#Everything is false except beat Love

[thetinkutohaniya]

[seventhcallisto]

Chapter VIII — "sensitive."

Deep down.

A/n: MDNI!!! MATURE CONTENT! smut under the cut. It's literally pure filth for jongho. There is absolutely no plot in this except for jongho being whipped. It's a lot. Bear with me!!

Toc + cw: semi-hard dom jongho(through the first half)/switch jongho. sub/switchy reader. guided masterbation (f. Receiving) fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (*gasps of false shock*) biting, boob worship, marking, slapping(ONCE), backshots(drink!), tummy bulge...., jonghos' mouth is kinda filthy, jjong has a noona kink low-key. There's a slight breeding kink in there, knotting!! Tugging!!, lots of cum, aftercare, big dick jongho, snuggly jongho, fluff!! Love you's after smex.

pet names/nns: doll, pretty, jagi(ya), noona, c0ck wh0re(once), little/cub (yours). jjongie, jjong, alpha, teddy bear (jongho's). min, (mingi's).

Wc: 8.6k

Jongho has an attitude that's hard to see, a personality that can be hard to grasp. That's what he's heard before, what he's read before- and he finds it accurate. Every time he says that, he remembers all the times you've caught him, as if he shared his feelings on his sleeves. The way your eyes scan him whenever you notice the tiniest detail is off, it's happened a lot.

You'd be kind enough to gift the young alpha a blanket if he seems to be curling in on himself a little more than usual. How you'd slip your hot pack into his palms if you catch him rubbing them together, when you'd make sure he was able to get a word in if his eyes seemed to light up at the topic of conversation, that's when he began yearning for you. Your simple affections had caught the alpha by storm. Taking care of him like you were his noona. It wasn't so simple when his friends began noticing it too.

Commenting on how often the two of you went viral for things that seemed more lovey-dovey than normal. How'd they ask occasionally if he was courting you yet, often in alpha traditions that had been abandoned decades ago. His friends could see jongho being old fashioned. Hell, even he himself could see that he preferred the tradition of courting. Maybe that's why he began doing it oh so subtly. Comforting you when you're nervous. Handing you anything he seems good enough for you. Sharing his clothing.

Buying you things, food, clothing, jewelry. He felt sick to his stomach with anxiety as you opened everything he gave you. Just wishing for your approval.

He had been courting you in his own way, unbeknownst to you and him. But in reality, he knew he was courting you, why else would he stop to look at a matching set of promise rings? He just didn't want to be rejected, so he kept it to himself. Kept his yearning to a minimum. And pretended like his heart didn't race when you called his name.

You had so casually swayed over, taking his hands in your own and spinning back and forth. You circled him as he sang. The caressing of your hands over his shoulders and waist as you leaned into him happily. Bouncing on the balls of your feet. Your group's song playing over the speaker. You all had just won an award. Yet the only thing jongho could keep his eyes on was you bouncing and swaying to the beat over his shoulder. Smiling brightly. Mumbling the lyrics into your mic flawlessly along with him.

Perhaps that's when jongho realized he was in love with you, or that he had known he would never love anyone else like he did you.

You trust jongho to guide you through the door of his shared room. Hands never leaving your hips, sliding down to nudge against the hem of your shorts just on the curve of your back. Strong and heavy and pushing you backwards, a waltz you can't see or predict because he's suffocating you with his tongue, shoving it around your own and swiping up every little noise you let out. Telling you to be quiet, so the other members can't see or hear you two entering their bedroom.

Jongho thought for a minute to take you on the counter in the bathroom, but why do that, when he could have his sheets covered in your scent? It'll give him something to remember. His hands pry the hoodie off, the shirt sticking to your skin, it's tossed somewhere in the room. Once your foot hits the edge of his bed you're falling atop it, splayed out so prettily in a daze for the younger alpha. Your hands reach for him, gripping the end of his shirt as you try to pull him above you.

He's staring and he knows he's staring. Your eyes squint, shyly. “Don't look at me like that” you mumble with your oh so swollen lips, he has a hard time stopping his lip from jolting up into a guilty smile, his hands coming around to grip the edge of the bed next to your thighs. “I'm allowed to stare, you're beautiful” he says honestly with a dreamy sigh, ignoring your protest, he goes on, holding eye contact as he’s leaning over your form with his strong arms that flex against the shirt he wears. He looks you over once for the go ahead, brown eyes caring and attentive. “Hurry jjongie” you huff.

His hands are rough, pulling your shorts and underwear off in one go, fingers digging their way down around the plush of your outer thighs. You whimper when you almost come off the bed, legs falling between jonghos. Again he stares, his hands sliding up to round up your thighs in his thicker hands and part them, your glistening cunt on display from the angle he bends your thighs to the side at. As he does you shift back to scoot up the bed. It's no use cause he holds you there, you're getting shy, legs attempting to close.

“Don't, I want to see you.” His eyes peek up from where you're leaking, his teeth prying his lip to hold back. You shake your head. “Stop staring” you mumble, turning your head away from him and closing your eyes. His hand snakes up your jaw, tugging you back to look at him.

“Show me how you play with yourself” he demands, eyes piercing. Your heart thumps out, jaw falling slack in his grasp. He pries your hand from the sheets of his bed, guiding it up to his lips. He's using his own fingers to guide yours into his own mouth, eyes prying as he gathers the slick on his tongue over your own digits, you let him guide you, a satisfied groan slipping past his lips when your knuckles bump the ridge top of his mouth.

He takes them out not a second after he deems them lubed up enough. His eyes cascade down your body, dipping your fingers along with his, he places them over your cunt, leaving them there for you to go on.

“Show me” his eyebrow shoots up as he demands again, eyes slotting from your flush expression back to the fingers he left over your cunt. He wants a show. And you're gonna give him one. You push them to open your lips, sighing softly. You slip one of your fingers in, then a second one, and pump them slowly. Gathering your palm to rub circles against your neglected clit.

He laughs lightly, it's a teasing sound, one that has you clenching your thighs close. He pulls them open again easily. “Come on doll, you can do better than that” he hums, glancing up at you. His hands come over to press against the curves of your thighs. Lifting you up so he can see you better, it's lewd and an exposing position that has you biting your tongue to hide any embarrassing noises.

He scoffs, using one of his hands to grip your jaw, it's not tight, just enough to get you to part your mouth open. There's a pinch in his eyes, a glint that has you staring back wide eyed. “Don't hide. Let me hear you.” His round eyes are piercing, he thumbs your palm out of the way to circle his thumb against your clit, slow agonizing circles that have you arching up into your own fingers.

“Jjongie-” You gasp when his thumb leaves, eyeing him up as he continues to look down at your cunt. His fingers prod your opening, that's when your jaw falls slack. He's pushing two of his digits in with your own, rubbing against the underside of your knuckles with his wider and heavier fingers.

“I didn't tell you to stop” he mumbles, pushing your thigh up again with his free hand that was just on your jaw. He's still digging his way inside, wiggling you open with little angled thrusts of his fingertips. “Keep going doll, use your fingers” you slowly pump them in again with his command, feeling the underside of his own fingers against your own steadily being slicked up. You feel a bit full with four fingers inside you, reaching for that spot that you can hardly reach.

Jongho seems to understand what you're doing, your own little moans picking up the farther you try to reach. “Mm, can't reach jagi? I'll help you” he shushes you softly. When he starts moving them you whimper, they're pressing down to move past your own, although you've had four cocks that are a thousand times bigger than your fingers, you miss how full you've been. Your stomach turns in knots, trying to reach an orgasm that's not gonna come without jonghos help.

You're slipping your fingers slightly out of your walls before you can even realize why. Jongho stops moving, gripping your wrist with his hand that's halfway buried inside you, stilling your fingers from coming out any more. “Where do you think you're going?” He scoffs, eyeing you as if you had the nerve to even pull yourself out. “Jongho-” You hiccup when he bottoms his fingers inside you, pistoning them to the hilt, a steady rhythm he begins setting himself as he grinds them over your other fingers. His free thumb digging into your clit.

“You don't listen,” he sighs, falsely upset. “Need me to do it all by myself” he whines into his words quietly. Thick thighs coming up to part your thigh over his lap. You twitch as he catches speed, free fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling them in and out with his own, getting you to open up. Your walls clench and unclench in a rhythm. When jonghos thumb drives your clit up and down in faster circular movements your face scrunches up.

He's got his fingers so deep in you, digging your own so deep in with his. Dragging them in and out and trying to pry for your g-spot. He reaches it easily with his own, feeling you jolt when he prods the spot.

“there it is, that wasn't so hard” he coos. You're gasping as he bullies the spot, fingertips prodding it for reactions. Your thighs are clenching hard, twitching at the stimulus.

“jongho m-” your orgasm washes over quickly, legs attempting to close because it's too much. He keeps his bullying pace, digging his fingers in to stretch your orgasm until the last drop.

You're panting as he finishes and pulls his fingers out with yours, gasps falling off the tip of your tongue. That was almost world shattering, he was rough- not like you didn't enjoy it, but the slapping of his palm against your sensitive cunt left you feeling tingly.

“What do you say, pretty?” he places your fingertips on his tongue, sucking your juices off. He hums when he takes them out, kissing up your stomach to where your shirt has ridden up. You wiggle, panting gently into the air. He wants you to thank him for your orgasm. It's authoritative- yet you like it.

“Thank you”

He hums against your skin. “You're so welcome little cub” he says with such fondness the tone behind it doesn't catch your ears. He's lifting his fingers under your shirt, kissing the skin as it becomes more revealed the more he pulls it up. It's agonizingly slow. Taking his time with you. Memorizing your skin against his lips. The bottom stops just short of the roundness of your breasts.

He kisses the plumpness of them from where they pool out, teeth nibbling on them the next second. You audibly jolt, gasping lightly. Your hands move to thread through his hair. Tugging on the soft strands. He seems to grow impatient, cause in the next second he's hiking your legs up his waist and pushing you further up the bed. Helping you remove wooyoung's shirt.

Jonghos plump lips still remain glued to your chest, kissing around your prickling skin, against the hardening expansions of your nipples. He's using both of his hands to grip them, the fat pooling between his thick fingers.

You can make out the pattern of his lips following the shape of a heart, he takes the nub of your hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking and tugging. You bite your lip, crying behind a whine. You squeeze him tighter, grinding up into his sweats over his stomach. He hums back, gravelly and heavy, glancing up to look you in the eyes. He pays equal attention to both of them. Rolling them in his hands. Warm and hot at the same time.

“Jongho” you pout “need you” he pops off your nipple with a smile, kissing the irritated skin. “Where?” He asks, kissing up to your neck, in search of the spot that has you clenching. He'll leave a mark, only cause he knows you don't have any activities soon. And because he can't help it. He wants to mark you as his- as theirs. To tell anyone else to fuck off. Just to fulfill that urge to be possessive of you.

You pout despite knowing he can't see it. “Inside” you mumble quietly. Jongho seems to catch it, head placed right on the swell of where your neck meets your shoulder. Breathing against your skin as his fingers rake up the length of your body. Mapping out every inch of you. He slides them down to your hips, sitting up quickly. You're being flipped over before you can gasp, jongho using his strength to move you.

“inside right?” He leans over you, breathing against your head propped up on his pillow. His erection skims the plump of your ass, making you lean into him. It's all jongho in his bed. Laundry, florals, all consuming. You dig your face into it some more. “Yes” you wiggle your hips to caress against his bulge. Teasingly so. He curses under his breath. Jongho works behind you, stripping off his shirt and sweats in an array of fabric noises. If you could peek, you would. But he's already lifting your hips up to slot a pillow under your pelvis, making you more leveled with him.

You know exactly what he's doing, teasing you by staying out of view. You whimper when his hands spread your cheeks open. It's like his eyes leave a trail of heat on you.

“Been wanting to do this since you put on that show earlier” he scoffs, edging into a smile. The slick of his cock tip digging into the underside of your cunt makes you clench, he's gathering your slick to rub it along his length. He must be referring to when you lightly grazed your legs on the inner side of his thighs.

“You're so sensitive” you mumble through the haze, jongho stops, and maybe then you realize you're actually talking back. “Say that again doll,” jongho encourages, hands grasping your thighs right under the swell of your ass. There's a tone there. He squeezes tightly. “i- I didn't mean it-” you wiggle, wishing for that added pressure of his cock again. He smacks your cheek once, the flesh stinging. You yelp into the pillow placed under your head.

“Sure you didn't? Huh?” He's mean, mumbling into his words as he pulls his dick between your lips again, poking and prodding your hole with tiny gasp and a drawn out groan. “sensitive,” he repeats what you say.

“We'll see who's sensitive.” there's no build up to the way jongho flattens his hips against your ass or the way his cock slides in easily, you're soaked, his pillow too. You gasp at the complete size of him, clawing up on the pillow as if it's going to save you from sinking further as jongho pushes his full length in. His groan is cut off, head falling into your shoulder as he props himself above your back.

He digs his free hand that's not holding him up to under you, sliding it down to press against your stomach. You choke as he presses down on his bulge, there's an indention from his cock nestled against your walls.

“Feel that?” He breathily says, pulling out til the tip of him sticks in, you whine at the loss, loosing his wide length as he goes. It's not long he's gone, hand still over the spot he once was at before he's plowing back into you. Hips snapping. “That's how deep I am” he groans when his tip prods his palm.

You flutter, chest heaving as you throw your hips back to meet the hard and bruising pase jongho is setting. He knows his own strength, he has his own self control. Somehow he isn't using all of it to rearrange your guts. “So tight, already had four cocks- and you're still this tight?” He grumbles. Lips falling over your ear, your head digs down, gasps and moans that get cut off cause of every slap of jonghos hips.

It's loud, it's sticky, and your slick is already coating jonghos dick and thighs.

“You're so messy” he sits up to gaze down at your cunt, using your back as leverage to lean his wide palm. Your hips meet every thrust of his, guiding him in easily.

You're clenching around him, whimpering into the pillow. “I bet you get off on this noona, having all your members plow their way into you. You're our cock whore now, yeah?” his eyes never part from your wet core. He's scoffing when you squeeze, clearly enjoying his words. You can't even respond, already too lost in jongho to think.

“You do” he hums, groaning shamelessly into the back of his palm as it comes around to cover his mouth. He's so loud already, he really can't control it. Attempting to bite back every groan that slips, “bet they enjoy it just as much as you do.” he leans over, squishing you completely with his body weight, the angle is harder to move in, so instead you just let jongho use you.

“gonna take you every rut and use you, just like this” jonghos fantasies are seeping into every word. Who knows where these new feelings came from, or the way he's bullying you as his cock gives you exactly what you want.

“shit- keep you so full.” There's a louder breathier moan that comes from his mouth, when he completely digs his dick back in, bottoming out every thrust. His hands come around to the sides of you, knees planted firmly on each outer side of your thigh. Heavy and rutting up every time he thrusts forward.

You can feel his skin scrape against your own, warm and new, skin that you haven't ever felt before from jongho. “Want to-” you moan quietly, “see you” you whine when he pulls out, length taken away and leaving you alone without him to fill you.

You're flipped back over onto your side as jongho comes behind you, spreading your thigh over his hip. He kisses your shoulder as he lines himself up again, throbbing against his fingers as he guides it in. You sigh as you're filled again. Head falling against his chest, just under his chin. He grabs the leg on your hip and widens you further, scrunching your leg up under his strong arm.

“Can't- jongho- alpha-” You whimper at the stretch in your muscles. “I need to be able to reach you jagi” he sighs, groaning through his words. His palm falls over your stomach again where the dent of him lies inside. His thrusts are slower this time, no doubt trying to hold off his orgasm. You're already so close to your own, even before he pulled himself out.

With every hard twitch of his thighs, he's slipping in and out of you. A heavy thump as he hits your cervix at the perfect angle. You gasp every time, tingling building up in your gut. You reach your arm behind you to hold him, threading it into the back of his head where his soft hair is. “Want you to cum, you got too.” he whimpers, the first time he has, just as your eyes take over his. Warm and lustful and round, more softer than they were minutes ago. The sight is peeling an orgasm out of you that has you shaking in jonghos grasps.

Jaw falling open. Jongho takes it as his opportunity to cut you off with a sloppy kiss, his heavy rhythm picking up. Both of his hands come around to grip the bulge of your stomach, dropping your thigh back over his hip. “Just like that- ah. fuck.” He curses quietly, thrusts slowing and becoming sloppy, he bottoms completely inside you. Knot swelling and keeping you close, jongho pulses inside you, hard. His head falling against the pillow next to you when his eyebrows scrunch and his own jaw falls slack. A shuddered gasp pulling from his throat.

A lot of his cum pools deep in you, even so much as spilling out around jonghos knot, you shudder at the warmth, hot and thick and consuming your insides with just jongho.

You grasp for his hand as you come down with him, he reaches back out, smoothing his palm over your tummy and gathering your fingers between his own. Adoring eyes scanning your features, your face shows no discomfort, just sleepiness. It's quite often you get tired after sex, and just like jongho everyone has noticed this. “Are you tired?” Jongho asks with a quiet sigh, planting a kiss on your temple. He's kept himself up, front pressed to your back so you can remain close.

You shake your head. “‘m comfortable, I like being full” you almost purr. Lost in your own afterglow. The younger alpha digs his nose into your shoulder; breathing in your scent as he looks across your body. Hickeys and bite marks align your neck, reaching your most sacred primal spot. They trail all the way down your breasts like patches of butterflies, stopping just below the bottom most round spot of your breasts. Your stomach is completely untouched, left to look round and untainted.

Jongho internally laughs, as if the spot were to be filled. Left untainted so it could be full of pups and cum, their pups. And their cum.

His hips jolt forward. You jump too. Jongho shushes you, softly apologizing. “Sorry, can't help it” he whimpers softly, head digging into your shoulder to calm himself. You press back against him, already asking for more softly. “jongho” you preen when the alpha kisses your neck, head pulling to the side. When you clench his hand over your stomach, jongho feels you flutter around him. A shudder sigh being pulled out of his lungs. “m- please, please move jjongie. Need more” you whimper, already swinging your hips back into him.

He shudders, head pulling out of your neck to look at you, gripping your hips. “You have all of me, pretty, i'm already so deep,” he builds a slow thrust, knot still pulling against you, your breath hiccups at the stretch when he pulls too far out, threatening to take his knot with him. He never does though, pulling it all the way back in, but only slightly out as he slowly works his cock in and out of you. Gradually bringing you two to that edge, even if your thighs are shaking from overstimulation.

You fall halfway over onto your stomach to hide your face into the pillows, jaw falling slack in a silent whine. You're so close, just barely any friction on jonghos part and you're already gonna cum. jongho follows you body with his own, leaning onto his knee to prop himself back over you, gasping short as you spasm around his cock. “jjongie- just like that- gonna cum” you warn him, he hums, strangled as he bottoms completely in you in another heavy thrust. The squelch of your already mixture of cum creating sticky sounds against your bodies. Jonghos eyes cloud over as he stares. It's a sight he prefers over everything else, your slick and his cum is gathering along his length and over your pussy, every time he pulls out more comes with him.

He audibly whimpers when you squeeze him again, overstimulating himself, his knot is not helping. It's painful but it's so good. The perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. “I'm gonna cum- You're gonna take all of it right?- ah. mm.” he bites on his lips to stiff any moans. “Cumming- ah- jongho” you gasp with a call of his name, fingers straining against his sheets. In the midst of going through it, you're flipped back into your side as jongho drapes himself completely over you, pushing your hips as he bends down to bite on your collarbone. Teeth digging deep, his hand once holding him up pulls your face into his neck, signaling you to do the same.

You tremble as you flutter around his cock, overstimulated in the best way. Your bite is wide, positioned a bit too close to a spot he can't hide well. Oh well. Hoodies and crewnecks it is. Jongho cums quickly after a few more shallow thrusts with your name falling off his tongue. Cum painting your walls in more of his scent, it gathers and works to push around his knot, pooling under your pelvis and ruining the sheet. He whimpers into your skin, pulling his teeth back enough to kiss the quickly bruising and deep spot, shallow thrusts as he guides you both through the aftermath.

You tap out quickly after, pushing against his hips as best you can. “too much-” you whimper, panting, jongho sighs as he falls on top of you. Clearly hoping you'd say that. His hands landing on either side to support himself up so he isn't squishing you, breathing harshly against your back. He swallows heavily.

“who's sensitive now”

You laugh lightly, tilting your head up so you can look at him, his boba eyes are endearing, forehead shiny with sweat. “shut up” your hand snakes around his neck, pulling him back in for a sweet kiss. A loving peck that lasts a second of comfort before you're falling back into the pillow, completely lost of strength. Jongho levels down with you, attempting to hold himself up. He's trying. It's not working well, his limbs are slowly becoming jelly.

“Move over” he asks with a kiss on your neck, eyes never leaving your lax face, you peek your eyes open and sigh, struggling to turn in his grasp, you both struggle for a solid second, attempting to rearrange your limbs without hurting the knot tied between you two. You both just end up sideways, facing each other in a mix of limbs. You're able to actually see jongho and all his beauty, he hides all of that under clothing, yet maybe you want him too. He's built like a god. You might actually get too distracted by him (more than you already do) if he were to wear anything more revealing than what he already wears.

“Remind me to take a picture next time” you joke, finger running along his bicep, memorizing the relaxed muscles under his skin and the way the muscles gather shadows. Jongho laughs lightly, eyes heavy with sleep. He watches you watch him, like he always has. Unbeknownst to you. You're his moon and stars. The prettiest thing in the world to him- most perfect too. You don't have to be actually perfect; he loves you as you are. His noona, his member, and his hard working friend. Friend isn't even the right word for jongho to describe your relationship. It's more so.. much more than that. It's a lot words can't describe.

His arm is curled under his head against his own pillow, his other hand reaching to pick up a piece of your hair and stroke it behind your ear. His thumb rubbing against your cheek. His gummy grin is nothing short of beautiful in your eyes when you make eye contact. Jongho has never been one for touch, but being mere inches apart; completely revealed to each other, you can't help but want to hold him like the big bear he is. Run your hands through his hair and kiss around his face until he's red.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks so quietly, you find it hard to believe he even did. You smile, nodding eagerly and shuffling into his embrace some more, hands enrapturing his neck to bring him in. He holds your face with his heavy palm, leaning down to passionately take your bottom lip between his. A slow sinatra that tells him exactly what he wanted to know and you the same. Both of your eyes close as you bask in each other's lips.

He pulls away with an extra breath against your lips, his hand falling away to rub against your shoulder. Soothing it in circles. Your own hands rubbing his neck, thumbing over the mole that you love to stare at. You lean up to kiss it softly, nuzzling your face under his chin affectionately. He lets you despite the racing of his heart, despite you being able to pull away and leave if you want. If you both want. His knot is gone but you're still with him.

The tissues on jonghos nightstand are soft enough to use to clean up, they're of great quality. He gently prys it from your hand as you reach for them and sits up to smooth it over your thighs, gathering yours and his fluids. He's a lot quicker than you're used to, a little rough as he swipes it over your still sensitive and soiled hole. You groan and he apologizes under his breath, tossing the last of it away after cleaning himself off, only the most soaked spots though. He grabs his sweats and shoves them on as he gets up.

He doesn't go far, the trash can by his bedside table is conventional. He takes your face in his hands when he leans over and kisses you deeply, just once before he's getting up and quickly gathering clothes from his drawer. His round eyes every so often flickering to you, as if you'll run away. As if you can. You laugh lightly at the thought, tucking yourself against his bed and pillows. You curl up with one of them, sighing heavily, avoiding the wet patch on jonghos bed.

Speaking of wet patch, jongho comes back with a pair of shorts and a tee on, you miss the skin, but his comfort is most important. He kisses your head when he leans over, hand placed over your back. He's touchy, so touchy. You love it, yet you're scared it'll only last so long. Scared of reciprocating it too much or else he'll flee.

“Look at me” jongho calls your name, interrupting your inner thoughts. You hum as you turn to your side. Jonghos palm falling across your cheek to turn your head towards him. “What's wrong?” Are you that obvious? You sigh “i- I'm just kinda, scared i'll touch you wrong” well. That's not exactly what you meant to say, but it's good enough. Jonghos eyebrows furrow. “Oh, jagi” he laughs at you softly, you go to turn away, suddenly embarrassed. “We just had sex and you're worried about touching me?” jongho voices his thoughts, head falling over your shoulder as he continues to giggle. “Nevermind,” you mumble, attempting to turn away in his grasp.

Jongho smooths his palm against your tummy, turning you back over to face him. “You can touch me, anytime” he responds softly. “Just be careful, we're still idols,” he jokes. You shake your head. “You're unbearable” you pout. “I know cub, but I'm not the one getting shy over touching” he slides in next to you, smiling wide. Eyes scrunching. Picture perfect as usual. His brown hair is hardly a mess, his cream shirt hugs him just right, and his shorts are gathering his thighs up under the loose fabric. He's pulling you gently up by the shoulders to slip his shirt over you now. At a loss for some bottoms.

You really could care less about going without underwear when jonghos shirt is practically a nightgown. The dark fabric makes you look genuinely tiny. You smooth your hand over the fabric when jongho manages to pull a towel out of his dirty laundry, shoving it onto the wet spot. “Where's that towel from?” You scrunch your nose at him. “Brought it back from the gym”

That explains the heavy odor of sweat.

You chuckle, pulling your hair out of the collar of the shirt. “So manly” you hum teasingly. Jongho rolled his eyes, caging himself against your back when he went to lay down on the pillow next to you. “You like it though, I saw you staring” you turn, he's hiding his face smugly in the pillow. “Jongho” you huff, a loss for words. “I don't stare” you mumble, slinking down to lay face to face with him. He shakes his head with a smile and laugh, smoothing his hand over your back once again. “You so do,” he hums. “I do too,” he goes on to admit. You grin cheekily. “Really? How often? When?” You encourage, hoping to get him to start turning red. He's slowly getting there, eyes scrunching closed.

“All the time, when you can't see” he says with a heavy breath, his body relaxing as he admits to it. You smile gently at the confession. “I do too” he laughs lightly at your words, eyes peeking open. “I know you do, you're not very good at hiding it” he bites his swollen lip before he continues, eyes raking over your comfortable figure. “you just can't help yourself can you?” He teases.

You shake your head. “Not when it's you” your finger trails up his neck, pushing on his lips. He parts them for you, kissing the tip of the digit. You sigh. He's so pretty. Your thighs clench. “Jjongie” you call his name softly, eyes glancing over his figure as you struggle to sit up, facing him fully. “Yes?” He quietly responds, hands falling to follow you. “Can you give me one more? Just one? Please” you whisper, head falling to his jaw and sucking the skin there in a sticky kiss.

Jongho moans silently, jaw falling open, he moves to your whim. Holding your hips as you lean over him. You take the opportunity to kiss his mole and neck, trailing down to litter tiny hickeys around the bite you left. Marking him some more. Sucking and teasing the skin. He's breathy, head pulled to the side to let you. You're maneuvering to lay on top of him. Straddling his hips.

“Can i jjongie?” You reach for the hem of his shirt, he's nodding, way too quickly for his liking but he doesn't care, already pressing his shorts against your thigh so he has some relief from the growth in them. You help him work it off his head, he lands against the pillow. He sighs as you stare down at him. Lips pursing when your tongue sticks out to wet them. Jongho rolls his hips against you, cursing the fabric of his pants for being the only separation.

You're peeling your shirt off next, jongho helping you do so. Finally, he's taking time to feel you up, whenever his greedy hands can reach. His tough hands kneading the flesh of your breasts, his thumb rolls over your nipple. You buck, moaning his name quietly, he eagerly responds with his own breathy moan. Leaning up to ask for a kiss, his head falls back down when you smash your lips onto his, suffocating his groans in your mouth. You swirl your hips forward, grinding your cunt against his covered cock.

Jonghos face scrunches, jaw falling slack- completely open as he leans his head against the pillow. “Can't wait noona” he mumbles, reaching down to unhook his sweat strings. You help him, tugging down his shorts the rest of the way. Your hips wiggle in anticipation.

Jonghos dick is flush and red from the strain, bobbing against his lower stomach with need. He grips it, stroking it once to satisfy the ache if only for a second. You grip his hand, grabbing it with your own and squeezing. A whimpered gasp falling off his tongue. He calls your name. “I'm gonna put you inside now jjongie- gonna make us feel so-so good” you whimper at your own words, lining up the tip of him to your hole. He stutters up, holding your waist.

“no prep?” his eyes widened in concern. You kiss his face softly, thumbing over the slit of his tip. He whines softly, eyes fluttering. “Don't need it,, just need you” you whisper against his lips, toying with him. Your head falls over his as you sink your hips down. There's a slow stretch and you're stopping when he's hardly inside. He whimpers, resisting the urge to buck into you. To get himself fully inside your hot walls and paint you again with his cum and scent.

“Told you-” he gasps when your hips sink down a bit more, clenching and tensing around him. “You needed prep,” he cuts himself off, guiding his hands against your waist. You huff, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slack. “s’ too big jjong” you rock your hips, guiding yourself forward and breathing through the stretch. Jongho doesn't comment on the pride he feels or the smug feeling he gets hearing that from you. He helps as much as he can, breathing with you and stilling. His eyes lock with yours when his thumb smooths down over your stomach to circle your clit.

You try your hardest not to move, whimpering. You're seeping along his length, trying to draw him in with pulses of your cunt. “Stop squeezing me- oh. Shi-” he covers his noises by biting his bottom lip. “Gonna cum if you keep doing that” he looks back down at where he stretches you out. Rocking you slowly, back and forth to sink further, you fall down the rest of the way on your own. Gasping loudly when he bottoms out completely. You fall over his chest, grasping along his length as you dig your head down into his neck. Jongho kisses your neck, rubbing your back in soothing circles.

“too tight- ‘m moving? Okay? Gonna help you” he swirls your hips forward, gasping along with you. His hands capture your thighs, just under your hips to dig his blunt fingernails into you. He keeps the momentum until you're slightly lifting your hips up and dropping them onto him. The squelch makes jong buck, digging his length up to meet you. You moan his name next to his ear, your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders.

His heels dig into the bed every time he thrusts up, rolling his hips with yours, there a pace you two are setting, sloppy. Just trying to get each other off quickly. His hand comes forward to circle your clit from between the both of you, dragging your ass up with his free hand to plant back onto his own thrusts. It's so short, cause you're already spasming around his cock. Crying at the wave of your orgasm already creeping up on you.

“Jongho-! JJongie gonna cum too quick-” you cry against his skin. He digs his fingers, all the more reason to continue his assault on your clit. “Just let go cub, I'm- mm- cum with you” he breathes out quickly, head thrown back in pleasure. His thighs shaking, he's so close, closer than you are, he's been holding it back the entire time.

You curl forward with a cry of his name, sobbing against his shoulder in ecstacy. Your thighs clench around his hips and waist roughly, trembling. Jongho grunts and moans as he stills inside you, rolling your hips back down onto him one last time to get himself all the way inside. His knot pops in the most gratifying way, sticking deep inside you whilst his load covers your womb. His neck is covered in sweat and so are your thighs. Everything feels sticky as you both breathe in unison.

“good?” Jongho laughs lightly, you laugh along. He whimpers dramatically when he feels you clench, mumbling how you shouldn't move as his fingers dig into your waist. You ignore his words, “s’was really good jongho, good job alpha” you compliment him, leaning off his chest to even out your shaky legs. He helps as much as he can, gripping you gently.

You hum with a comfortable sigh as you lay against his chest now. Legs locking up against him. Jonghos hand comes to hold your shoulder against him, fiddling with your palm. The light on the side of jonghos bed keeps you from sweet sleep. Jongho watches your face, relaxed and full of content.

“I love you”

He holds his breath, an accidental whisper of his real feelings. He ruined it- ruined the safe space he just made and completely broke down a wall that's supposed to be there, he tenses. You sigh softly; lip curling. “Love you too teddy bear”

It was bound to happen eventually, the stomping of feet in the hallway only gives enough time for jongho to pull his almost disregarded blanket over your bodies. His tough hands wrap around your shoulders protectively.

The only person to swing the door open is san, his hands holding the knob in a vice grip. His cheeks puffed up when he pokes his head in, eyes completely screwed shut to avoid seeing anything he didn't want too. “There's a hot shower waiting for you, not you” San attempts to point his finger in your direction then to jongho's, based on instinct he measures out where jonghos bed is. He's off by a lot. “Just so you two know it's rude to sneak off, I thought you were coming back” he pouts. Clearly missing you.

You smile into your words, cuddling closer to jongho for warmth against the cold and once abandoned blanket. “Be out in a lil bit, promise” you're surprised at how jongho didn't immediately throw something at san, yelling and telling him to get out. The younger alpha seems flabbergasted as San shuts the door.

His eyes lock back down to yours when you turn your head to see his face, his ears are red. The corner of his lips lifting as you stare, puzzled.

“Do you need company?”

Your shower is quick and easy, jongho helping you to clean up whilst he himself also cleans up, making sure you're able to stand on your own. It's sweet and innocent with him laughing every once in a while when he splashes you, you do the same back to him. He dries your hair gently, running the end of a comb to brush through what he can. He uses it on himself occasionally, warm air puffing up his bangs. He leaves with a towel wrapped around his waist and comes back wearing pajamas, different from the other ones he had on, a loose graphic gray shirt that only barely shows off the bite on his neck. Matching with a pair of heavy sweatpants. Your eyes glance over the bite, sticky with ointment that you insisted on rubbing along it, bruising hickeys lining up against his tan skin, you grimace.

“Jjong, what happened to your clothes?” Your eyebrows furrow, stopping the movement of rubbing ointment against the sensitive bites on your body. “You got them dirty love” he shrugs, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily. He leans over to kiss your head. Basking in the height difference. You decide to just ignore his words, reaching for the clothing in his arms.

It's a pair of simple shorts and a shirt. A grey gym shirt? You glance up at jongho, the guy smiles shyly, hands creeping around your waist. It's fresh at least, still smells like jongho even though he hasn't worn it. You take a satisfied whiff and slip it on, pulling a pair of your own underwear on and lastly the dark shorts that are a bit too loose for you. They're not yours or jonghos. The length is too small for his taste.

“hongjoong?” you smell as his cologne wafts up to your nostrils, you shrug them on, tying the strings tighter before shoving the fresh pair of white socks on as well. “he wanted me to give them to you, to wear” he sighs, guiding you towards the hallway and shutting the light off behind you.

You smile at the younger alphas insisting to guide you, hands tugging yours with him. His larger palm is gripping around your wrist gently, rubbing against your scent glands.

The living room is noisy from the TV. Your nest comes into view as you both round the corner, jonghos hand slips from yours when he steps to the kitchen. You smile at the sight, seonghwa is practically laying halfway on hongjoong, sleeping, wooyoung on the other side of the leader. They're both on the far right of the nest, cuddled up with one of your blankets spread over each other.

Mingi and Yunho are sitting together on the propped up couch, probably taking interest in actually laying on it together instead of in it. Yeosang is laid face down in the middle of the nest, asleep on a pillow. San is placed on the far left of the nest, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. Yunho seems to have been drifting, before Mingi perks up and leaps.

“dibs!” He gathers you in his arms before san can spring up from next to yeosang. San pouts, hands thrown up in defeat. “You weren't even a part of the conversation!” mingi laughs quietly. His hands swing you back and forth in his embrace. You shake your head, having no clue what they were calling dibs on or talking about. You shuffle forward, mingi steps over the empty spots to pull you down onto the couch next to him.

You fall onto mingis lap, feet sticking out and onto yunhos. The sleepy member doesn't seem to mind, his hand curling around so he can hold your ankle. A soft caress of his fingertips over the glands there. You take a deep breath, relaxing against mingi. He tilts your head up, demanding your attention.

“hi min” you greet him, pecking his jaw softly, as if on instinct. He preens, grinning, his lips growing wider and more shy. “hi,” he simply responds, as if a school boy saying hello to a pretty girl. “So..” he starts quietly over the TV. A conversation being held only for the two of you. “Mhm?” Yunho chimes in as he seeps into the couch on the other side. “mingi and i were wondering if you wanted to do some size training tomorrow”

The mentioned male sputters, waving his hand as Yunho flat out says what's on his mind. Mumbles of “that's not.. well-” “i-.. it is, size training- i mean..” coming from behind you. Your eyes widen. If size training is what he truly believes it is, and knowing yunho is massive.. are they planning to… yunho smirks at your expression.

“You think you could take two?” Yunho's eyebrow quirks, genuine interest in his dark eyes. Can you take two? This discussion is so casual, at least they're warning you. “depends” you sigh, leaning into mingi shyly, a pillow brought across your chest so you can hold it. “you could hardly take me, even after i.. you know” yunho seems to grow shy. “it's easier now” your hand comes up to cover your face at your own words. “I.. think it has to do with my- slick?” Mingi shifts from under you, are you even using the right term?

Yunho hums, lip poking out as he thinks. “That's what seonghwa said,” Yunho nods, sighing. “It's still better to be prepared” yunho shrugs, his hand rubbing patterns against your ankle.

“When you do take two, we can know the signs if it's too much for you.”

Yunho's cock does happen to be the biggest in the group out of all you’ve seen, probably to match his size and height. He's just big overall. So if he's big, then mingi (according to your logic of alphas and having big dicks) might actually be massive to also make up for his size. The cute, giggly, wide eyed member who clings to you.. it's too much to think about.

You hum, wiggling on mingis lap. The man sighs, trying to get comfortable from under you. There's a bulge that he doesn't feel like mentioning, hard because you talked about having sex. It's embarrassing to him. “yeah, let's try, it's better when I'm not post heat hazy, after breakfast?”

Why are you scheduling sex? You don't know, but for some reason there's no awkward tension, just passive buildup. It feels like you're planning a date as a couple that has been together for years. Comfortable and tingling. You turn to look mingi in the eyes, he's beet red. Ears flushing under the lights of the TV. “What do you think?”

He nods quickly, a short conformational hum leaving his throat. It bobbles when he swallows thickly. You smile, a huff of air escaping your nose.

“We'll do some size training then” yunho nods, head falling back over the arm of the couch where a pillow is propped. You turn into mingis' side, enjoying his warmth and scent you haven't had on you in a long time. He jumps, hands jolting to lighten his grip just to let you move freely. “Nervous?” You tease.

Mingi smiles, his lips pulling down into a concerned grin, he slots back into his spot. “I might ruin you” he admits with a quiet sigh “I can be rough- I am rough” he's warning you. You glance up at his face. Heat pooling into your own.

You've heard it before, heard about mingi being too rough during sex. Especially during his ruts. He's broken plenty of rut sanctuary beds, you've had to pick him up to pay for it. His skin sticky with sweat and looking much more masculine than when the guys dropped him off. You have your license, yet all you can think about when you drive is how insanely hot mingi looked coming out of the alpha building block, you were probably a liability on the road at that time. His hair is messy on his head and his body completely reeks. He smelt like an alpha who had a tough brawl of it with himself. And he wouldn't even look you in the eyes.

Whatever toys or help they provide never seemed to do the trick cause he seemed much more frustrated and quiet being picked up. You'd ask him if he was feeling better and he'd completely ignore you. He hardly spoke to you afterwards, needing at least three days to recover his attitude. And even after then, you've heard rumors amongst your idol friends about mingi in bed, despite not wanting to know you couldn't help eavesdropping.

Your eyebrow quirks. “Is this your way of telling me you're a warning sign?” Mingi laughs lightly at that, you must be okay with it.

“I'm just letting you know, that's why yunho's there.” he thumbs your chin, his eyes growing more lax.

“To bring you back when it gets too rough”

I went off the deep end with this one !!!! Literally need to have jonghos babies immediately, I can be the perfect wife, please one chance, jongho!! I no longer feminism when jongho exists. Thanks to my cutie patootie @uhhheather and my pookie bear @hhoneylix for helping me thru some plot and some of the smut teehee!! Ily guys (kisses screen). Also.. size training with yunho n mingi?... mingi being rough?? I have so much to write oh lawrd.

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather (thanq u) @hyukssunflower @hhoneylix (ty, pookie) @tunaasan @satsuri3su @acescavern @edusweah @silentcry329 @silentreadersthings @ldysmfrst @idfkeddieishot @zdgx1 @lomons @rln-byg @mommahwa1117 @ddaeing @chngbnwf @mentoslol @spooo00oky @dawn-iscozy @ateezima @vannabanana1995 @fvlvy @caityelise99 @emmmui (thank u all! If the tag isn't working or i forgot to add u, please let me know ♥︎ if you want to be added to the taglist comment here -> ★ )

[neptuneiris]

for the crown (03/03)

two things can kill the soul, emptiness and false hope.

pairing: prince!aemond × lowborn!reader

summary: you gave yourself to him, you love him, he said that despite your low status at court, he will still marry you, because you are his, the woman who was his friend since childhood, until the war comes.

word count: 9.3k

previous part • series masterlist

and here ends another story, I can't believe it :( thank you so much to all the people who supported me and who read, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, you are incredible beautiful people, I love to write all this with pleasure for you❤ see you in the next stories. this is the end, there will be no epilogue.

warnings: angst, denigration, abusive behavior, possessiveness, infidelity, betrayal, mention of death, blood, cuts.

"Prince Daemon sends his greetings."

That's what the man says as he holds a dagger menacingly against your throat, feeling the cold metal firmly against your skin, while with his other hand he quiets your sobs as tears fall down your cheeks.

Even you still don't process how you got into this situation. It just all happened too fast.

All the commotion happened so suddenly, a soldier in green armor shouted ambush and suddenly men with black banners appeared surrounding the camp at Harrenhal, while everyone barely had time to react and suddenly they were already surrounded.

Even Aemond.

The maidservants were the first to flee towards the castle in fear, so you too quickly decided to go after them as the enemy soldiers began to surround everything and kill the men attacking them.

When you suddenly felt someone grab you from behind forcefully without expecting it at all and silenced your screams with his hand, instantly bringing the dagger to the side of your stomach, placing the tip ready to be embedded in your skin, threatening you.

"If you want to live a little longer, I suggest you put up no resistance and don't make a fuss, my dear," the unknown man threatens in your ear in a low, slightly amused voice.

He tells you as he moves the dagger threateningly firmer against your skin, warning you.

However, not thinking correctly and acting on a survival impulse, you gather courage and manage to get the man off you by hitting him with your foot in his intimate part as hard and fast as you can.

The man gasps loudly from the pain, releasing you, giving you time to run and call for help, crying and completely terrified.

But the man immediately pulls himself together and angrily grabs you again in a quick and calculated motion, knocking you to the ground.

You cry and cry for help as he drags you away and you continue to put up resistance, terrified and desperate, but still he places you at his feet and then stands over you, immobilizing your movements.

"No! No, please!" you cry out to him pleadingly, crying, resisting and beating him as best you can with your hands made into fists.

"Shut up!"

He shouts angrily at you, then unexpectedly hits you with his raised hand right on your right cheek, hitting your lower lip as well, bursting it, while a wave of pain runs through your face and you stop resisting.

When suddenly everything goes strangely quiet.

Rhaenyra's army does not kill Aemond's forces, there is no bloodshed or battle as such, except when the green soldiers put up too much resistance and the archers shoot them right in the forehead, killing them instantly.

This is strange to Aemond, who with his sword in hand, alert and defensive, watches as he is surrounded by all those men along with his army, attentive and waiting… though they are not actually attacking them.

Not yet.

Desperately he looks for some way to free himself from the situation, needing his dragon to have a better chance, observing how his men don't even have their swords with them or at least not many of them, most of them being unarmed by the unexpected situation.

When then he remembers you.

More desperate than before, he searches for you among all the people, unsuccessfully, starting to worry, feeling the nerves invade him even more, hoping and wanting to believe that perhaps you have escaped in time along with the maidservants.

But if you've been ambushed so suddenly and so carefully, where even he didn't have time to react, he doubts that you were able to get away from it all in time.

But if you're in the castle, hiding, equally that comforts him a little. However, Aemond did not expect to see Alys came out of the castle.

Static and with clear surprise on his face he sees how a tall man, of broad build, with strong arms, wearing brown leather clothes, with brown hair and beard of the same color along with his wrinkled face, holds tightly by her hair.

Alys gasps in pain and he make her walk and with his other hand he holds a dagger against her throat.

She cries and looks hopefully at Aemond, asking for his help and completely frightened, while the man continues to hold her tight to make her move forward and threatening her with the dagger in her throat, until they reach the middle of the whole ambush.

Aemond cautiously observes the whole scene, trying not to look as worried as he actually is, taking a few steps towards them, about to speak when a voice catches his attention.

"Ah prince Aemond, there you are!"

He then feels as if a wave of fire will burn him completely alive as he now sees how a tall, skinny, hairless man with some visible scars on his bald head and also brown leather clothes holds you firmly, making you walk as you cry and continues to threaten you with the dagger this time at your throat too.

Aemond wants to believe this really isn't happening as the man holding you stands next to the man holding Alys, his two women now in front of him, each being threatened with a dagger, on the verge of death.

His heart rate increases to a faster, unstable one, feeling like he will vomit at any moment, seeing the scene in front of him.

But his attention is drawn more towards you, with the man mumbling at you, threatening you to stop crying, as he notices the blow on your cheek and the blood coming out of your lower lip, instantly watching everything with his jaw clenched and his hands making them into fists, clenching his sword too tightly.

"We've been waiting to see you, Prince Aemond," says that man holding you, watching him amused, "Couldn't miss the show, could you?"

"Let them go, both."

He demands in a serious and deep voice, angry, hiding his desperation and concern, cautious and attentive to anything, while the man holding you watches him even more amused.

"I don't think you are in a position to demand a thing prince, or are you?"

"Then what do you want?"

Aemond instantly snaps at him, his voice hard and threatening, his whole posture tense and still clenching his hands tightly into fists.

He doesn't understand anything.

If they're here to kill them, why didn't they do it from the beginning? He doesn't understand what they're getting at with this by taking you and Alys.

"What do we want?" the man repeats, then laughs bitterly and with cruelty, "No," he denies with his head and then looks at you, "What we want we already have… right here."

This sends shivers down Aemond's body, who unable to hide it any longer, watches worried and alert as the man presses the dagger harder against your throat.

Your stir and cry in fright, to which the man quickly covers your mouth with his hand, making you gasp from the pain, so you close your eyes tightly and let out more tears, sobbing into his hand, wishing for this to be over soon.

"When Prince Daemon heard that his nephew took the Crown in the Usurper's absence and that he took Harrenhal to gain more support throughout the Riverlands against his wife, apparently enjoying the company of not one, but two women in the midst of war… this got his attention and he decided to act about it."

Then the other man holding Alys speaks with a deep voice and a determined look, while Aemond listens and watches everything carefully.

"Now he can avenge the death of his son, Lucerys, properly."

The tension rises at that moment, Aemond completely transfixed watches with his eye wide open at the scene in front of him, with the man's words constantly replaying in his mind as he sees the two of you more than willing in killing you and Alys.

Then the realization also hits him like a wave.

Blood and Cheese.

These two men are the same assassins that his uncle sent to kill one of his nephews, in revenge for Luke's death.

They were never found, both successfully escaping the Keep after such an act that his sister witnessed and drove her into madness.

Aemond truly took full responsibility and understood that his sister could no longer even accept his touch or tolerate his presence, crying completely devastated the next few days after losing her son and to this day.

But now… the victims are not his niece and nephews due to the lack of children of his own, now it's you and Alys.

He didn't bother to keep his activities with Alys discreet. Everyone knew there was an intimate relationship between him and her, he even knows that word must have gotten as far as King's Landing.

As well as with you, the words spreading since he stole you from the Keep and brought you here with him.

This is why he understands that these men have taken you and Alys successfully, until now realizing the grave mistake he made in carelessly letting his weaknesses be known.

Watch as Alys watches him intently, pleading, as the man continues to hold her tightly with the dagger at her throat, and then watches you, you already watching him the same way she is, frightened and begging for his help.

"We will tell you the same thing we told your sister, Prince Aemond," Cheese says in a more serious and firm voice, "We are debt collectors. In this case a son… for a mistress."

Cheese's grip on you grows tighter, as you gasp from the pain and continue to cry, while Aemond presses his lips together and stands as still as ever, afraid to make a false move, watching and listening to everything intently.

He feels as if his heart is going to burst out of his chest at any instant, he wants to vomit and wants to burn everything to the ground because of the fact that he can't do anything about it.

He is completely helpless in the face of the situation.

"We only want one to balance things out. The other one we won't touch a hair on her head."

Cheese continues, along with Blood still holding the daggers menacingly against yours and Alys' throats.

"Then… which one would you prefer to save, your Grace?"

The tension increases with every second, as Alys stares at him pleading and you too, crying.

These words hit not only Aemond, but also you, desperately asking for his help, terrified, crying harder, knowing full well that the dagger in your throat can kill you at any instant, the decision being his.

You watch him completely attentively, as Aemond slightly raises his hand towards the men, swallowing hard, wanting to keep calm and peace, as he feels the despair all over his body.

And now he understands what his sister had to go through.

"No, wait," he says instantly, trying to sound calm and look less desperate and worried, "Wait," he repeats firmly and cautiously, trying to reason with them, "I'm sure we can come to a beneficial agreement. Just let them go."

Cheese laughs bitterly, as Blood answers for both of them.

"An agreement is not a mistress, prince."

"It has to be one of the two of them," Cheese makes clear, in warning, "And I advise you to make up your mind soon before Blood gets bored and decides to enjoy one of the two, prince."

Your heart rate increases in panic, as Aemond purses his lips and starts to become clear in his indecision, really wanting to believe that none of this is happening, when the moment is more real, terrifying and vivid than ever.

"Choose or we kill them both," Cheese says as a final warning, his gaze determined.

Alys stirs hard, drawing the attention of Aemond, who with the clear worry and desperation on his face, watches as Blood orders her to stand still while she pleads with him to choose her. Worry invading him more, feeling his fingernails dig into his palms as he squeezes hard.

When then his gaze turns to you.

Your eyes completely teary, red and panicked look back at him, pleading with him to choose you, feeling just as scared as he is, feeling your fear increase and you breathe harder each time you feel the man place the dagger more firmly against your throat.

Aemond says nothing. His gaze is completely hard, his jaw clenched and clear indecision is on his face as he watches continuously between Alys and you, watching the daggers in each other's throats.

And in that moment you have hope.

All the moments you shared with Aemond since you were both children you remember, all the gifts, details and the caresses that happened as you both grew up.

All those moments together, when he gave you your first kiss and when he claimed you as his.

You've been his friend since you were both children and his companion ever since, to this day. And you are hopeful that he will choose you, because that is what you would do.

However, seeing Aemond's hesitation and how he watches you so deeply, his eye desperate and full of concern, you still wait for all this to be over once and for all, wanting to stop feeling the edge of the dagger against your throat.

But Aemond remains silent, being aware that he has to choose soon, because he can't lose both of them. But seeing you and then Alys, the decision is very difficult.

You watch him without understanding, expectantly, while begging and crying for him to choose you, while the man's hand hurts you by your broken lip, but still completely attentive to him, wishing that this horrible torture where you are on the verge of death is over.

When finally Aemond seems resigned and finally points.

"Her."

And in that moment… everything around you stops.

Your face slowly softens in surprise, watching Aemond with your eyes wide open, your soul falling at your feet.

You watch perfectly well as he points to Alys.

You watch perfectly well as he chooses her.

Then all the realization also hits you like a wave, not even crying anymore because of the panic and because of the man who can kill you at any second.

But you cry because you realize that not even in this kind of situation where you are on the verge of death, he will choose you.

All you feel is an empty feeling inside you, as if something is missing, with a huge sharp pain in your chest, as you watch Aemond and you can't even hear what he says to the man holding her, everything sounding too far away and feeling like you are flying for a moment.

With your gaze completely devastated, you watch as the man releases Alys and Aemond quickly takes her in his arms, concerned, everything about him looking for a moment relieved, as he holds her and makes sure she's all right.

The way he holds her face, the way she watches him as she is now safe in his arms, everything hurts.

Feeling completely weak and watching the scene, really not wanting to believe it, it's as if your very mind is going into a state of resignation unconsciously, as that sharp pain in your chest is more constant and you feel like you're breaking into a thousand pieces.

The man removes his hand from your mouth to hold you tightly by the jaw, you barely feeling his touch as you continue to watch Aemond's choice attentively.

The two of them embrace, he holds her against him as if she is the most precious thing he has, making sure that no one will ever take her away from him again.

When then his gaze turns to you and though you don't know it… his cold heart breaks into pieces at the sight of you.

All he can see on your face is how completely broken you are, tears streaming down your cheeks, confusion, sadness and betrayal completely to him, all of you totally devastated.

He presses his lips together, leaving Alys aside for a moment when you've seen it all and now you understand it all, looking away from him and focusing on the ground, all realization in your broken gaze.

And it all feels worse when Cheese says in your ear, loud enough for everyone to hear:

"Did you hear that, my lady? Your prince wants your death."

Letting out a sigh, you close your eyes and let some more tears fall, accepting all this, Aemond, Alys, your destiny, everything… and you wait for death, giving yourself completely to it.

Cheese watches Blood with a malevolent smile, that being the signal, while you silently cry and wait for it all, when Aemond again intervenes, worried.

"No, no, wait," he urges.

But both assassins already have what they wanted, so Blood watches him with a dark look.

"There is no more demand here, Prince Aemond. You have made your decision."

"No, wait," Aemond says again more firmly, desperate, watching behind both men and again at them, so continuously, "Just wait."

"No, prince," Cheese denies with his head slightly amused, "No more waiting."

He says to again place the dagger against your throat decisively, causing Aemond to freeze completely and you weak freely allow access, hoping it will all be over soon, as Cheese gives Aemond a dark smile.

"Prince Daemon sends his regards."

And then everything happens too fast.

You let out a last sigh, with your eyes closed, letting yourself go completely, waiting for the moment when you will feel how the blade cuts your skin and the blood will come out of your throat, running all over your body to the ground and so you will bleed to death.

However, the sensation of the blade against your skin never comes.

When suddenly, the whole place again explodes into chaos.

The men surrounding Aemond's men are surrounded by Lannister and Hightower bannermen, neither of them expecting it and they are killed instantly, this being the opportunity for Aemond's unarmed men to take up their swords and defend themselves.

This immediately catches the attention of Blood and Cheese, also that of Aemond, who pushes Alys away and again takes his sword, looking desperately at Cole, who observing the situation, orders one of his archers to attack.

And then… an arrow pierces perfectly through Cheese's head, killing him instantly.

Without expecting it, you fall to the ground in a firm hit, feeling how blood splashes in your direction, only it is not yours, while the army that was with Criston Cole makes its way through the whole place to rescue Prince Aemond and his men.

And the moment that happens, Aemond reacts quickly, holding his sword tightly, in an instant heading towards Blood, who completely bewildered watches the whole scene confused, to then behead his head in a calculated and firm movement.

He yells at Alys to hide in the castle, quickly, then rushes towards you, who crying on the ground with Cheese's body next to you, he quickly takes you in his arms, lifting you up.

You look at him completely bewildered, while everything around starts to be a battle and a bloodshed, as Aemond makes you run for safety.

But the instant you finally react and understand what is happening after such a sudden situation, you move his hands away from your body, avoiding his touch, to seek refuge in the castle yourself, scared.

Aemond then begins to kill the men who had surrounded him before, with fury running through his veins, without measuring his strength and his limits, feeling how his fear from before is replaced by adrenaline and kills every man who fights for his half-sister and his uncle, furious for the situation he was forced into before.

And he kills every one of those men, until there are none left.

Some time later, all is quiet again, as carriages take away the dead bodies that were seen around and inside Harrenhal, while Aemond's men supervise everything and Aemond has a meeting with Criston Cole and all his advisors, talking and discussing about what happened.

Aemond immediately orders the word to reach King's Landing about the ambush and also how he has avenged his nephew Jaehaerys.

They also discuss how they could have been ambushed in such an unexpected way, really none of them having an answer, as Aemond runs a hand over his face and feels completely exhausted in every possible way.

It is not until he has a short break, still having many things to discuss and do, that he goes to your chamber, where he was informed some time before that you were being attended to by the Maester, that he can finally come to see you.

He finds you alone in your chamber, without any trace of blood and your hair still wet from the bath you took, the wound on your lip is already clean, but the bruise on your cheek is more than visible.

Even when you hear how they enter your chamber, you still don't turn around and continue watching through your windows, knowing perfectly well that it's him, since you would recognize the sound of his boots walking anywhere.

With your gaze completely broken, disinterested at the same time and with dry tears on your cheeks, you look at the mountains beyond, still feeling that sharp pain in your chest and still feeling weak.

Aemond lets out a long breath, shortening the distance between both of you, placing himself behind you, while you continue without watching him, the tears wanting to come out of your eyes again and pressing your lips together, avoiding sobbing and crying in front of him, not wanting him to see you that way.

In fact you don't want anything from him anymore, you just want to be alone.

"Y/N—

He starts to say to you in a soft voice, while his fingers touch your arm, but immediately your face hardens and you pull his hand away in a cold, abrupt and curt way, not caring, not wishing him to touch you, even without looking at him.

Aemond remains completely still, watching you, not expecting at all that reaction and behavior from you, while you continue firm, without looking at him and without saying anything at all.

He lets out another long breath as he looks away from you for a second, to look at you again with some anger in his gaze, expectantly.

"Now what's wrong with you?"

Nothing, you don't watch him or say absolutely nothing to him.

Do he still dare to ask?

You ask yourself, incredulous, not believing he's fool enough not to know what's wrong with you. Of course he knows, he just wants to make you look weak and dramatic.

But how are you supposed to feel and how are you supposed to act, when hours before in that horrible moment, he practically condemned you to death?

Aemond runs a hand all over his face and hair, his patience beginning to wear thin, not wanting to have to deal with you now when he's already had so much to endure this day and it's not even over yet.

"Are you done yet?" he asks you annoyed, "Believe me I'm not in the mood for your behavior right now."

And that's when you can't resist any longer, answering him even without looking at him.

"Then leave," you tell him without much emotion, "I didn't ask you to come and I'm certainly not holding you back if you have more important things to do. I'm sure Alys will be more pleased to see you, after all… she is part of your important matters."

Aemond completely loses his patience and in a second he's already grabbing you hard by the jaw to force you to look him in the eye, while you stare at him without expression, your gaze completely dead and empty.

"You are going to stop this fucking nonsense and you are going to stop it now," he warns you in a serious and threatening tone.

"Do not touch me," you tell him seriously as you again abruptly pull his hands away from you.

And again you turn your back to him, staring at the window, instantly feeling tears run down your cheeks, only you dare not make a sound, waiting for him to leave and leave you alone.

"Can you stop behaving like this? I'm sick of it," he demands, annoyed, "I knew Cole was coming, I saw him approaching and I knew you would be fine, I saved you," he exclaims serious, explaining.

Again you say nothing to him, not daring to look at him, tears falling more freely down your cheeks, unable to hold back.

It makes you sadder that he doesn't really know why you are this way, and it certainly isn't because you were terrified of dying. In some part if it was, but what hurt you more was that he chose her and you were condemned to death, is that because he didn't choose you… for her.

And if he knew Criston Cole was coming, then why did he still choose her?

He could have chosen you, he could have taken you in his arms as he did with her, that's what you would have done because you have known him for years and you are the one who has always been with him, not her.

However, you understand that you should stop thinking about what you would do for people, because that doesn't mean they will do the same for you.

That has become more than clear to you, because even if you choose him, he won't choose you.

He couldn't risk losing his precious Alys one way or another, wanting to make sure he had her really safe first, while you remained in that man's arms, waiting for your death.

You are not more important than his witch. He needs her to win the war for his brother, his family… and you are not more important than the crown.

"Hey, did you hear me?" he urges you, annoyed "I knew Cole would come."

You sniffle, lowering your gaze, then nod even without looking at him, looking the saddest and most disinterested, really wishing he would leave and leave you alone.

"Of course," you murmur to him without emotion, bitterly.

He didn't know anything.

Your mind tells you, only making you feel worse, even though you knew from the moment he chose her, not wanting to say anything to him about it, not having the energy to fight him.

And at this, Aemond has had enough of your attitude and disinterest, so he snorts bitterly, annoyed and tired, turning around to leave, not saying anything else to you and certainly having more important things to take care of.

You press your lips together, your gaze completely hard, really not wanting to say anything, but needing to get it out of your system, so in a low murmur you say:

"Liar."

And even though you've said it to yourself, still Aemond hears you and in an instant stops, turning to you again, instantly feeling his watchful and annoyed gaze, hearing you as he takes a few steps towards you, while you stand firm even though you don't even return his gaze.

"What did you say?"

He asks you slowly, like a madman about to explode, not liking your word at all. And you make it clearer to him, swallowing hard first.

"It was Criston Cole and the archer who saved me, not you," you answer him coldly, "Even in that kind of situation, you will always choose her," you tell him bitterly, "It was you who gave me over to death, because you didn't even know if Criston would arrive, it was just a coincidence that it came at the ideal moment."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Y/N. You don't know anything," he tells you menacingly serious, "So I advise you to stop acting like a fucking little girl and stop bringing Alys up every second when I've already explained to you, countless times, that I need her to win the war."

"Yes," you mutter, your gaze bitter, "You need her so much that you'd rather kill me first, than lose her."

"Seven fucking Hells," he mumbles, sick of it, "That was necessary, what do you not understand?" he says to you annoyed, "And yet why do you care so much? At the end of all this I'm not staying with her, it's you I'm marrying."

"Oh is that so?" you say without emotion, "I'm not sure about that anymore. At this point maybe your witch will marry you first before me," you shrug, "And I wouldn't be surprised. Even if that happens, you won't let me go. I'll just be just your whore, like I've been all this time."

"Don't say that," he warns you.

"Or I will finally end up dead."

"Y/N," he warns you for the last time.

You let out a soft sob, closing your eyes tightly, breaking into pieces again, the memory even more vivid than ever, the dagger against your throat and him choosing her, over and over again.

And you feel again how Aemond tries to grab your arm, but you push him away again in an instant.

"'Go away. Leave me alone," you beg him hurt and upset, no longer bearing his presence.

He tries to speak, when at that moment there is a knock on the door, so resigned and irritated he orders with a firm voice to enter, turning around to observe who it is, being the Maester.

He catches your attention as well, at once calming you down and wiping your tears away.

"Oh my prince," he bows his head to him, as you continue to turn your back to both of them, still controlling yourself, "I'm sorry to interrupt, my prince. I just came to attend to Lady Y/N's wound, I have already gotten what I need."

"I understand you have already cleaned and tended to her wounds, Maester," Aemond tells you cold and serious, watching him intently and intimidatingly.

"No, my prince. I tended to the wound on her lip, but the one on her throat is missing. I didn't have what I needed, so I went to get it," he explains softly.

Aemond frowns slightly, as the Maester makes his way across the room to you, who once calmed down and with a calmer and more serious attitude, you let him do his job, not looking at Aemond for a second and pretending that he is no longer there.

While he continues standing, observing the work of the Maester. He didn't even know that the assassin had managed to cut a bit of your throat, being a barely visible and small cut, but deep enough.

He lets out a long breath, looking away for a moment, running a hand over his face to finally leave the chamber.

He feels furious, annoyed and stressed by everything that still awaits him, instantly meeting again with all his advisors, the matters of the war at this point really bothering him and a lot.

While you, when the Maester finishes cleaning your wound, continue to be locked in your chamber, not having the energy for absolutely nothing, reliving the moment in your mind over and over again about Aemond choosing her… and not you.

You cry silently, thinking about it and also about Aemond's words of justification, only making you feel worse.

Even lying in your bed, really having no peace and unable to sleep properly, you still feel that sharp pain in your chest. Fortunately Aemond doesn't appear in your chamber again, but still you continue to suffer in silence.

And when you finally manage to sleep, the nightmare repeats itself, the words of that man leaving the choice to Aemond, and then he chooses her, and finally the man kills you in a fine and perfect movement.

At that moment you wake up, bringing your hands to your throat in an instant, breathing hard and gasping in fear, beads of sweat all over your face and body, hugging yourself and in an instant crying again.

He choose her.

Your mind tells you, not leaving you alone, thinking that Aemond probably hasn't come to see you because he is with her. After what happened… he must still be with her.

It's not like you want him to, but all this just reinforces more what happened and how you are nothing to him, how you are not more important than her and that you just don't matter to him.

All these thoughts don't leave you alone, feeling completely alone and more than vulnerable, letting the ghosts of the cursed castle of Harrenhal consume you in darkness… letting her consume you, the witch.

When the next morning, after one of your maids brings you a tray with breakfast, even though you have no appetite and do not wish to eat anything, there is something hidden among all the plates and napkins laid out for you.

Then it's as if you again feel like you're floating, the realization hitting you harder than before and that ache all over your chest making you feel weaker and more vulnerable.

Just now truly understanding… the role you play in Aemond's life.

Everyone in Harrenhal hears the huge roar of Vhagar in the skies, approaching.

It is not until shortly after that a vibration is felt throughout the ground, indicating the landing of the huge dragon and also indicating the return of the Prince Regent.

Aemond runs one of his hands over his face as he removes the helmet that complements his armor, instantly seeing the ash permeate his fingers from all that he ordered burned and destroyed to the ground, heading towards the black castle.

Since the ambush yesterday, having the meeting with all his men and advisors, this morning he decided to head alone towards Rhaenyra's army that was slowly approaching, deciding to wipe them all out from the skies, responding to the harsh ambush and killing all those men fighting for his half-sister.

He didn't act instantly, he had to wait for the perfect moment to attack and take them all by surprise.

And when the moment finally came, he burned every single one of them with their carriages and supplies, leaving absolutely nothing, making sure of it.

Criston Cole and all his advisors wait patiently for their return, watching Vhagar in the distance on some mountains, while the figure of Aemond begins to get closer and closer.

And once they are all in the Council Room, again the discussions begin.

"There is not a man or carriage left," says Aemond firmly, "All is cleared as to any movement on the part of the blacks."

"There are no claims that there are any more soldiers fighting for the blacks in the Riverlands, my prince. According to the spies and soldiers you sent."

"Good," Aemond says with a nod.

"Ravens arrived as well, my prince," Cole tells him, extending rolled parchments to him, "All from Kings Landing."

"There was an attack?" he asks instantly, taking the paper.

"No, they report that all is well, Prince Daeron is guarding the entire Keep. It is King Aegon's answers as to the ambush, the assassins Prince Daemon sent and he has also let it be known that he has sent soldiers for the loss, to equal again the men we had, all from Oldtown and Storm End."

Aemond nods, understanding and being pleased to hear that, finally hearing good news since he arrived at Harrenhal and feeling some of that peace he needed, also that hope of winning the war again.

He continues to discuss other plans, until finally the meeting ends after several hours, where his advisors begin to leave the room, except for Criston, whom Aemond watches him expectantly as he notices that he does not move from his spot.

"Is there anything else, Cole?"

The man watches him for a moment in silence, then lets out a long breath and finally speaks.

"Yes, my prince, there is something else."

"Well, speak," he tells him without understanding, watching him intently.

Cole again remains silent for a few seconds, while Aemond watches him, waiting, beginning to lose patience. When Cole finally speaks.

"It's Lady Y/N, my prince."

Aemond stands completely still, still watching Cole intently, not understanding.

"What about her?"

"She's missing."

He says and at that moment Aemond feels his whole body tense up completely.

"Her maid said she wasn't in her room this morning, so she searched all over the castle and the surrounding area but she didn't find her."

He lets him know as Aemond feels all that peace at seeing progress in the war fade away. He lets out a long breath, closes his eye and runs a hand over his face, wanting to believe this isn't happening.

"Since noon I've sent guards to search for her all over Harrenhal, my prince," Cole adds, "But there's no sign of her."

"Fucking Hell," Aemond mutters tired, irritated and now worried, watching him instantly annoyed, "And why didn't you say anything before?"

"I-I…" Cole is speechless for a moment, nervous, "I'm sorry, my prince. You had just arrived and I thought you would want to take care of crown matters first."

Aemond rolls his eye, beginning to feel furious, his whole face annoyed, instantly rising from his seat.

"Fetch the maid, bring her here. Now," he orders him upset.

"Yes, my prince."

Cole immediately complies with the order, while Aemond feels that at any moment he will go mad, trying to calm down.

When your maid enters the room in fear, followed by Cole, to be instantly interrogated by Aemond, being intimidated at all times and answering his questions in caution.

Then he himself gathers more men, even men on horseback, ordering several of them to head for the roads leading out of Harrenhal.

"If she's gone on foot, she can't be far, so find her and get her complete, do you understand? Without any wounds," he threatens, to which the men instantly obey.

Aemond at once gathers the men who are searching all over Harrenhal, wanting to hear news, but they all inform him the same thing: there is no sign of you.

And he instantly orders them to keep searching, not caring how exhausted they already are or that they have already scoured the area, he just wants to find you.

But the men last all night until the Hour of the Wolf looking for you, without success.

The next morning, Aemond in a sorry state, not having been able to sleep all night, being on the lookout to hear some news about you, receives the men he sent on horseback and they let him know that there is no trace of you on any road.

Aemond demands that they tell him exactly what they saw, how far they got and making sure they did their job well, annoyed and beginning to lose his patience completely, taking his bad mood out on all those men, demanding answers.

However, no one finds anything, but he forces them to search again, not caring about anything, feeling that at any moment he will go mad, despair and worry eating him alive.

When they leave him alone in the room, even Alys comes looking for him, asking him if he's all right and offering a distraction for a moment, but he dismisses her instantly, not having the slightest interest in her now, too occupied thinking only of you.

He is left alone in the Council Room, running his hands all over his face and eye, feeling more despair all over his body, when a few moments later, Cole enters the room, cautious and watching him with some pity.

"My prince," he makes him aware of his presence, approaching towards him.

"Did you find her?" he asks at once in a serious voice and looking completely tired.

"Yes, my prince."

He answers in a murmur to his great surprise, making him watch him instantly attentive. Then he lets out a long breath, feeling all that tension and despair leave his body completely, feeling relieved.

"Fucking finally," he mutters still angry, getting up from his seat, ready to head towards you.

"My prince," Cole tells you instantly, taking a step towards him, "You must know something—

"What?" he inquire annoyed, "I don't have time for this. Where is she?" he demands to know, putting on his black coat, watching him expectantly.

"Wait my prince, s-she's—

"Just tell me where the fuck is she!" he demands desperately.

"She's dead!"

Cole tells him without further ado, stopping Aemond completely, as he looks at him seriously and with a sorrowful look, assuring him completely that he is serious and that he would never dare to say something like this if it were not true, while Aemond is completely paralyzed.

He watches him with his lips half open and his eye wide open, surprised and not expecting it at all.

"She was found in the lake just beyond the main road of Harrenhal, hidden in bushes," he explains to him gently, cautious, not wanting to disturb him further, "She had a dagger and cuts on both wrists," he says very carefully, preparing to say the next thing in the same way, "Apparently she did it to herself, my prince."

Aemond feels like he can't hold himself on his feet, leaning back against one of the chairs, watching Cole in bewilderment and as if he can't believe it.

"She was brought back here and is now with the Silent Sisters," he adds, "She had this with her, as well as the dagger."

He tells him to then drop in front of him on the table apparently a letter, instantly Aemond's gaze hardening and refusing to believe that you, his Y/N, is dead.

"No. It's not her," he says firmly, "Y/N is not dead."

Cole watches him with pity, lowering his gaze for a moment.

"Yes it is her, my prince," he assures him gently, as Aemond looks at him completely serious and on the verge of losing control, "I'm very sorry."

Aemond feels as if he is floating, his whole body tense and his mind refusing again and again to believe his words, telling himself that it is impossible, that you couldn't have abandoned him like that, that you have always been with him, by his side, since he was a child.

He denies, feeling how his heart begins to beat strongly, besides starting to feel that sharp pain all over his chest, tensing more, feeling as if he were drowning and short of breath, besides an emptiness, something missing.

He hardens his gaze and tightens his lips, feeling a huge lump in his throat and a discomfort all over his stomach, as if he feels like he is about to throw up, losing strength.

It just can't be.

No.

That's all Aemond thinks, incredulous, in denial and feeling all his palpitations getting stronger, the whole world crashing down on him, despairing and feeling completely dazed.

It is not until some time later that Aemond, with his hard look and tight lips, orders Cole coldly to leave the room, to which the knight obeys, not really wanting to leave him alone, only to stand right at the doors once he closes them, being alert.

And a few moments later, Criston Cole hears how Aemond finally reacts and starts breaking everything in the room, listening to his screams of rage, he even breaks and curses that letter you had with you when you were found, because now he understands why you did what you did.

This is the first and last time I will respond to one of your letters, Y/N. But first I want you to understand that I don't want you to write to me ever again.

You have brought shame to our entire family name, you have brought shame to me, destroying the few things I built so that we could afford a life. After all I did for you, you decided to turn your back on me and give yourself away like a common whore to a prince, allowing him to ruin and disgrace you.

You are not my daughter, you are not that woman I cared for and raised, because if you had been, you would not have allowed any of this. And yet you expect me to forgive you by believing that the prince is going to marry you by the time all this is over?

The news has reached here about how the prince has taken another mistress, a witch, so you are a complete fool to believe that he cares about you and will marry you. Open your eyes at once and understand that you are nothing more than just a desire, a whim, a woman to warm his bed, becoming his whore and nothing more, which is all you will be useful to him.

You have not only embarrassed and disappointed me, but also your mother, because believe me Y/N she would be very disappointed in you. Don't write to me again and don't look for me when he leaves you and you have nowhere to go, you are just a naive fool who got carried away by the whims of a man, believing his lies.

I truly don't recognize you and want absolutely nothing to do with you, so as I told you, don't ever write and look for me again.

These same words are the ones you had read when they brought you your tray with breakfast.

You definitely not expect that your father would truly respond as you decided to send him a letter hoping he would forgive you by explaining the whole situation, why you left with Aemond and what would happen when the war was over.

You did everything in secret and with Ellya's help, fearing that Aemond would find out but fortunately that didn't happen, until you fortunately received your father's reply.

However, you did not expect such words from him.

Reading it all, with your mind still fresh from what happened with those assassins, Aemond and Alys, you now really understood what you mean in Aemond's life…. nothing.

Your father's words broke you completely, realizing that he is right.

You also understand that you have no family anymore and that you are completely alone in all this, that your father hates you for what you did and thinking about your mother too, how terribly disappointed she would be in you.

You understood that even if you stay by Aemond's side, you are only his whore and that is how everyone recognizes you now, Prince Aemond's whore.

You understood that even he could get bored of you at any moment and take Alys permanent, that made it clear to you the moment he chose her over you with the assassins, because you are of no other use to him, you can't see the future and help him in matters of war.

You are simply of no use to him, other than to warm his bed.

And you don't want to live like that, where at any moment Aemond leaves you unexpectedly, having no one else, nowhere to go, realizing that you yourself ruined your life for a man who doesn't even care about you and doesn't love you.

With your heart in a fist, sadness completely invading you and the realization getting harder by the second, the moment you found out that Aemond had left Harrenhal to attack an army of the blacks, you decided to escape.

You took a dagger from the kitchens without anyone seeing you, you passed the guards unnoticed and you walked away until you reached that lake, with tears in your eyes and feeling completely alone and hopeless.

The memory of Aemond choosing her over and over again, the letter from your father and how you ruined your life by making the wrong choices, did not leave you alone at all times and you decided to slit your wrists.

All alone, taking a seat on the ground, near the trees with bushes and the beautiful lake in front of you.

And with the view of the dusk, you let yourself go completely with blood dripping down your hands, staining your dress and tears streaming down your cheeks.

It wasn't so painful even though you felt completely alone, starting to feel very weak and disoriented, breathing hard and waiting for the Stranger to take you away.

That last memory of the world comforted you and taking your last breath, you closed your eyes and thought of Aemond. Even though he did not love you back, you truly loved him until the day you died.

And you left, not really wanting to leave, but being necessary.

Now Aemond finds himself watching you at the table in one of the large unoccupied rooms of Harrenhal Castle.

Earlier the Silent Sisters were about to begin their work with you, only to be interrupted by him and asked for a moment, where he had heard before entering how one of them had said in a low whisper; "Poor child…she died alone."

He continues to feel that sharp pain in his chest, all hard stare and tight lips, barely processing that this is really you.

Your eyes are closed, your whole face in a slight expression of pain, still looking completely serene and still, your skin pale and without color… without life, still wearing your dress, stained with dried blood.

Aemond clenches his jaw and gathers courage to look at your arms, all the way to your wrists, where he sees the deep cuts perfectly, feeling that pain all over his body again.

Then he dares to raise one of his hands and delicately touch your cheek, almost with fear, instantly not feeling that warm and soft touch from you.

When the first tear falls on his right cheek.

Just at that moment alone, Aemond realizes all the damage he did to you, understanding that you are dead because of him, because of the decisions he made, because of the way he treated you, because of Alys, because of everything, leaning towards you and holding you in his arms.

It's not just the feeling of loss, he's also furious with himself and your father for that letter, asking you in low whispers to please wake up, only to see your eyes closed again… forever.

He made you a promise and was always willing to keep it, yet he never thought about your feelings, never really cared about you, because his problem has always been that he thought he would always have you by his side and that you would never leave him.

Even choosing duty, the crown, his family, you were always with him and that kept him confident, until you couldn't anymore.

Until just then Aemond realizes the terrible decisions he made, regretting over and over again, wanting to tell you that nothing of what your father told you is true, that he does care about you, that you are important to him.

However, he never proved it to you, not in the way that was right, always treating you as his possession, choosing others over you, because he always thought he would have you.

He didn't know you were suffering so much and now… because of him you are dead.

Aemond doesn't know how long he lasted that way with you, holding you in his arms, wanting to feel that warmth and comfort you always gave him, but instead you were just a cold and lifeless dead body.

Criston Cole is the one who convinces him to leave you in peace so that the Silent Sisters can finish their work with you, leaving him no choice.

Then, before nightfall, Aemond gives the order to Vhagar to burn your body, not caring that this is a Targaryen tradition, only he and Cole being present, this being the least he can do for you.

And the last.

"You knew, didn't you?"

Alys Rivers, the witch of Harrenhal, raises her gaze and observes the figure of Aemond in the doorway of her chamber, watching her attentively, without much emotion on his face, but with a cold and distant look, catching the woman's attention, who frowns and adopts her posture willing and seductive at the same time.

"What do you mean, my prince?"

She asks him with her attractive tone, the one that always has an effect on men and also on him, only that this time no anymore.

"You knew about the ambush… and you didn't tell me anything," he tells her with a deadly tone, "Because you knew what would happen, you knew that I would choose you and not her… sending her to her death."

Alys is confused, not understanding the prince's behavior, when he has always been so responsive to her, continuing her seduction.

"You know that I have always kept my word, my prince," she says slowly approaching towards him, "I have told you every single one of all my visions. But in this case, I saw nothing about the ambush."

In an instant, Aemond shortens the little distance between them, unexpectedly for Alys holding her firmly and tightly by her neck in a threatening manner, while Alys opens her eyes wide in disbelief and horror as he begins to choke her, everything about him emanating fury.

She immediately brings her hands to his, trying to stop him, watching him in fright, as Aemond watches her like a mad man, demanding answers, his eye red and swollen, his pupil dilated and all the pain in his gaze.

"You knew about the ambush, you knew what would happen and that's why you didn't tell me anything," he repeats to her in a deadly tone, "All to get her out of your way, isn't it?"

Alys squirms and gasps for air, watching him in complete terror, beating her hands and chest desperately.

"N-no," she says as best she can, needing air.

"Don't lie to me!" he exclaims unexpectedly, furious.

Alys coughs, tears beginning to spill from her eyes, crying, as Aemond watches her with as much hatred as possible, completely disgusted, to finally have enough and let her go, instantly her falling tactlessly to the ground, gasping for air, coughing and with all the fear invading her body.

Aemond thinks of course she knew, again feeling the urge to cry, but completely resisting, he turns around and walks out of the chamber, completely exhausted, furious and hurting, no strength left.

The next morning, Aemond orders the death of the witch of Harrenhal, being beheaded in an instant for carrying out the prince's order, to continue leading his side of the war… with the difference that nothing is the same anymore.

Aemond Targaryen was always haunted by all the ghosts of Harrenhal, especially you. Every day he woke up and you were no longer by his side, it was complete torture.

He couldn't sleep, had very little appetite and began to lose the war slowly.

From the beginning he always chose the crown over you, but in the end, it wasn't worth it at all. Aemond lost himself, all the time thinking about you, where he also lost his sister, his brothers, his grandfather and all those sacrifices being in vain.

Nothing he did was worth it, not even Alys, because he lost you and he also lost the war, with nothing left of him or his family.

And all for what?

For the crown.

Taglist:

@targaryenmoony @skzenhalove @yentroucnagol

[chaotic-neutral-ferret]

i’m screaming over lyrics and the implications. lemme just prepare my fuckin motf essay over here. it’s mostly Whizzvin so be prepared. this is all my interpretation and if you have different thoughts then please share, i love talking falsettos. also sorry for any formatting issues i wrote this on my phone. (analysis after the read more)

ahem. so in Marvin at the Psychiatrist (part one). Marvin when prompted “Do you love him”, he replies with “sorta kinda” and explains further that he sorta needs him but that he makes him smile and feel smart. and then him and Mendel go on for a while.

And then after Mendel’s “Would he kill you?” Marvin seems to contemplate his own feelings and sort of retracts his former statements saying “But I love him, and I need it. If he loved me, I’d concede it”. He admits he does love Whizzer, but he can’t concede to his whims because he doesn’t perceive Whizzer as loving him in return. Which at this point in their relationship makes sense. Marvin despite cheating on Trina desperately wants a wholly committed relationship and Whizzer isn’t quite on the same track.

Whizzer and Marvin in March of the Falsettos love to poke at each other’s insecurities to harm, not just to joke and make each other laugh (as they do in Falsettoland). And this builds to the boiling point in The Chess Game. In which (OBC not Revival), Whizzer reveals that he can in fact beat Marvin at chess after Marvin repeatedly says “Winning is everything to me” (something we know to be at least mildly false) and Whizzer pokes at Marvin’s desire to be enough for him with “Nothing is everything to me. Except sex… And money”.

Marvin’s “need” to win in this is a kind of analogy for their relationship. He needs to win at their relationship, win Whizzer’s affections, win his lifelong fantasy of a perfect family. Whizzer despite never really fully on board with Marvin’s desires finally says no. He doesn’t want to be a housewife or play into Marvin’s fantasy. And Marvin makes the impulsive, but likely logical to him, decision that it’s over and kicks Whizzer out.

Further, in The Games I Play Whizzer describes his feelings for Marvin as love. When he prompts himself directly he has a similar first instinct to Marvin with “Ask me if I love him. It depends on the day”. But later in the song without direct prompting he admits “It hurts not to love him” and “It’s hard (to love him) when part of him is off playing family charades”. He doesn’t want to need Marvin (“Ask me if i need him. Get him out of my way”), but he does love Marvin.

Then in Marvin Hits Trina, Trina and Whizzer call Marvin a maniac, a clown, untrained, uncouth. He’s sweet but mean. And Whizzer leaves off with another direct prompting “Do I love him? No”

Finally in I Never Wanted to Love You, Whizzer says “ I never wanted to love you. I never wanted, til’ death do we two part…How do I start not to love you?” Admitting one last time (in MOTF) that he does love Marvin despite how much he doesn’t want to. And Marvin says he never wanted to love any of them (Trina, Whizzer, Jason, Mendel) even though he does (in his own bizarre ways).

Both Marvin and Whizzer when given direct prompting from themselves or others redirect and avoid admitting their love for each other. But when they contemplate it and speak without a direct line of questioning they have to admit to themselves that they love the other despite their behavior to the contrary.

[evilbihan]

Hii! So with the arrival of Takeda (hip hip hooray!) Also comes with his intros. There's a certain intro with Takeda and Tomáš that goes as follows:

Takeda: "From what I hear, Bihan was a bad brother."

Tomáš: "Because to him, I wasn't one."

So that made me :(((. I wanted to ask if this would change your perception for Bihan's and Tomáš' convoluted relationship? Because I wholeheartedly agree Bihan by nature - underneath his built identity and grooming of becoming the Grandmaster and by proxy wanting to act for the betterment of the clan - does hold love for Tomáš and can't help but be endeared to his little brother (no so little, Tom is HUGE). But i suppose the writers want to push the notion of Tomáš and Bihan not being brothers.

I love, love, l o v e yours and inflamedrosenkranz's posts so so much. So thank you if you do respond to my ask! <3

From what I hear, Takeda was a bad cousin.

Didn't he try to murder Kenshi?

(Not to mention, his official bio in MK1 says he enjoyed his former lifestyle. Doesn't seem like he has much remorse for trying to kill his cousin either... )

And additionally to being a bad cousin, he was an even worse son in the previous timeline who beat up his blind father for "abandoning" him while Kenshi only tried to protect him by leaving him with the only person he knew could keep him safe.

This is the guy who gets to point fingers at others???? Disgusting.

It's beyond me why some people like Takeda. They should have brought back Kung Jin instead.

Now that we have an idea of Takeda's credibility and moral compass, let me answer your question.

"I wanted to ask if this would change your perception for Bihan's and Tomáš' convoluted relationship?"

To me, this intro doesn't change much, if anything at all. Because it adds nothing new, except for Tomas' perspective and it's really not that surprising that Tomas would think Bi-Han never considered him a brother when Bi-Han has always been acting cold towards him.

However, this is Tomas' perception of the situation and Tomas doesn't know everything. Tomas can't read Bi-Han's mind, he can't know whether Bi-Han ever thought of him as a brother or not and again, Bi-Han not considering him a brother is the only point making him a "bad brother" in Tomas' opinion. He doesn't say Bi-Han ever mistreated him or Kuai Liang. In fact, there is no mention of him ever being a bad brother to Kuai Liang at all. This is just Tomas' opinion on Bi-Han and we need to keep in mind from what position it comes from.

Tomas is hurt and angry, the last thing Bi-Han said to him was that his blood is not Lin Kuei. It's understandable why he would jump to this conclusion and think Bi-Han never considered him family.

However, there is proof of this perception potentially being false. You can find my other posts analyzing their relationship here, here and here.

Bi-Han never corrects others when they speak of his brothers (plural).

He doesn't correct Tomas for calling Bi-Han's parents mother and father too.

When Tomas asks Bi-Han why he was cold towards him. Bi-Han says it was because he's not Lin Kuei, not because they are not brothers.

Bi-Han did seem concerned when Tomas almost died, so even if he doesn't think of Tomas as a brother, he did care about him to some extent.

Bi-Han doesn't necessarily want to be enemies with Tomas, He tells him they will only be enemies unless Tomas submits, leaving open the opportunity for Tomas to either be on neutral terms with him or even return to the Lin Kuei.

Lastly, here comes the most important point: Bi-Han doesn't owe Tomas anything. He has every right to refuse to call a complete stranger his brother. This was a situation Bi-Han was forced into by his parents as a young boy when his father chose to adopt Tomas. If it's true that he never considered Tomas his brother that is an entirely valid position to have. It doesn't make Bi-Han a bad person or a bad brother. I may have said this before, but if you go and ask random people what their defintion of family is, you'll get many different answers. Some will tell you family are those related to you by blood, others will tell you found family and the people you want in your life are the only true family. After all, you can't choose who you're related to by blood. And guess what? Neither of these takes are right or wrong. They're just different from each other and people will have different opinions on what family is. Trying to force Bi-Han to accept Tomas into his family is messed up and wrong.

Anyway, I'm glad to hear you like my posts and thank you for sending me this ask!

[alfredojesta]

i don't like jason the toymaker because he's hot

i like jason the toymaker because he's a little pathetic bitch boy who acts like he's more professional than anyone when in reality he's an overworked man child with anger issues and immense psychological issues that can only be relieved by a false sense of superiority and praise from people who don't even love him.

i can't list a single good thing about this guy except for the fact his sarcasm is sometimes funny and you know what. that just makes me love him even more. he's a total jerk, flawed in every sense, but when analysing his backstory and the deprival of love and affection — it makes sense why he acts this way. it's not a justification, god forbid i justify a woman killer's actions, but it's an explanation.

and i think my favourite thing about writing jason the toymaker is how i can make him change. throughout everything, there's still a lost child who wants to be seen. jason has a heart, albeit rotten, and one day he'll feel it beat for the first time. he'll be surrounded by love and laughter, but this time he'll be participating in it.

[shakingparadigm]

I love Mizi and I'm sorry I don't talk about her enough. I love characters who have their worlds turned upside down and have to break themselves free. I love characters who are so obviously changed by their circumstances, even down to their physical appearance.

(long ramble ahead! sorry.)

As anguished as I am by the fact that they cut her hair, it's honestly genius that they cut off the last part of her that symbolized her love for Alien Stage. She was iconized by her first round, a performance that she anticipated so much she planned her entire outfit beforehand. She wanted to wear a cute dress, she wanted to dye her hair, she even got rid of her glasses. She created a version of herself inspired by idols, blinded by glitz and glamour and false optimism. She sang and danced her way to the grave dressed as a spectacle. And she was happy to do so! So far in her life, very little went wrong. She lived a happy, loving life with her alien parent, showered in toys and such. In her eyes, being a pet was a blessing, singing was a privilege, standing on that stage was an honor. She was ignorant to the suffering of those who weren't as lucky. She never considered the possibility of losing Sua because they knew each other so well. Her voice followed Sua's like a moth to flame. She was naive enough to believe that everything would turn out alright, that within this glittery death game they would be the exception. So to have such a horrible thing happen to her, to see her universe drop cold at her feet, naturally it's too much for someone who lived her life through rose-colored glasses. Dying was supposed to be an honor, yet the crowd roared as if it were a joke. Barbaric, loud, cruel and mocking. Cheering and jeering over a lifeless body. Viewing her universe as nothing more than a broken plaything. Disposable, a loser. Her love for Alien Stage and the eager, shiny new persona she dressed herself up as died together with Sua. For the remainder of the competition she is in a daze, incredibly disoriented and in turmoil. Round 5 was even delayed because she refused to participate. In Black Sorrow, when Mizi and Till run into the Cerberus-like alien, Mizi is standing completely still, hand over her mouth in shock while Till moves to get up after being beat down. Mizi has a tendency to shut down (in VIVINOS' words, "crumble") in the face of danger and extreme stress. This trait becomes even more severe after the trauma of Sua's death. Mizi is so detached she's not paying attention for two whole rounds, delayed one, and even when she finally performs she's in constant terror and confusion. I think Mizi snapping and attacking Luka started something for her. She broke out of her daze and acted on the anger that's no doubt been rising inside of her since round 1. It's not necessarily growth yet, but it's something. After Hyuna saves her, she at least seems more present. The resistance was incredibly jarring for her because she's never been in an environment without aliens before, which can be seen in the first half of All-In. The turning point for Mizi is when Hyuna is restrained by guards, the large image of Luka causing her trauma to resurface. The interesting thing about Mizi and Hyuna's relationship is that they see themselves in each other. This familiarity is also the motivation for them to save each other. Hyuna temporarily disassociates, enough for the guards to restrain her and begin taking her away, just as they did to Mizi not too long ago. They both understand what it's like to lose someone, to break down at the thought of them. Mizi, who up until this point has been confused, clumsy and hiding behind backs, recognizes herself in Hyuna's response and springs into action.

Mizi built her life around lies and false hope, crumbled down after realizing the true nature of the game, and spent the rest of her time on that glorified chopping block just trying to process the weight of her situation. The long pink hair that she maintained resembled not only her naiveté, but her stagnance. Her idealization of Alien Stage, her blissful ignorance to suffering, and her blind compliance to a cruel system were traits that she carried with her for almost her entire life. Unchanging, just like the length of her hair. But within that moment of Hyuna's helplessness, Mizi shakily stands on her own two feet and dashes forward. Despite having no plans or experience, she attacks. Mizi picks herself up and acts on her own volition. No aliens. No restrictions. Her life is in her own hands now.

She's fired at. The bullet grazes her cheek. Her hair is shot off. Despite losing a part of herself, she does not falter.

Mizi has now cut off her old self. No more long pink hair, ready to be tidied and tied up with a neat little ribbon, dyed bright colors to catch the eye of an insatiable audience. No more dressing and prepping like a lamb to the slaughter. Her hair is short, pure pink, messy and unkempt and falling over her eyes. She is not the same person she was before. She's learning to fend for herself, pushing against opposing forces and moving forward despite everything. She drives the bike herself, determined, stronger. Hyuna calls her "solid". Mizi is no longer a commodity for entertainment, a plaything who's suffering is eagerly consumed by alien viewers. She's become her own person, hurt and upset and determined to save others from the fate Sua suffered. I love her for everything she is.

[lesbianoms]

Consider this:

A seemingly classic office rom-com but in a world with vore dynamics. One coworker that a bunch of others are fighting over, except they’re not necessarily interested in dating her so much as they are eating her.

The new girl who gets the job is straight out of a heteronormative dreamland. She’s naive and shy, but a hard worker who’s ultimately looking for love. She’s lasted this long in her career and she feels like it might finally be time to find a partner, and what better place to look than a heavily populated office building? She’s finally ready for romance!

Oh, and she also happens to be prey.

She shows up the first day and the office is ripe with hungry tension. All the other people there– the secretaries and receptionists, the men by the water cooler, and the women dressed in business suits or long skirts– they’re all staring at her, licking their lips idly. It’s like she’s a fresh piece of meat to them.

And then her heart just begins beating furiously as she realizes that the office is completely made up of predators.

But the new girl quickly puts up a front and smiles, eager to make a good first impression on her first day at work. Besides… she’s worried that they can smell her fear.

I like to imagine that the office is mostly female driven, so throughout the day the new girl is surrounded by hungry women who eye her up and down, wanting nothing more than to fill their bellies with her. Some of them might try to lull her into a false sense of security… maybe they compliment her on her fashion sense, or tell her how nice her perfume smells, or maybe a few of them invite her over into another room for some “girl talk.”

And maybe, just maybe, the new girl reluctantly accepts. After all, she does miss the downtime she had during her old job, the casual chats with her coworkers about life and men and the intricacies of doing your makeup right and all that other boring filler stuff. She convinces herself that she wouldn’t be that appetizing to them anyways.

And as she falls prey to her naïveté once more, she also falls prey to the women. They all jump on her and attack like the hungry preds they are, biting and licking her, tasting her, until one gets a steady hold of her, drags her possessively away from the group, and greedily swallows her down.

The new girl kicks and struggles in the pred’s gut, begging her to be let out and feeling her preyish fear kick into overdrive. The other women stare at their coworker in annoyance and jealousy, and she just grins, flashing her teeth and rubbing her swollen gut victoriously. Everybody else rolls their eyes and leaves. Oh well, maybe they’ll get lucky when the next meal comes along…

After work, the pred goes home, cradling her gut and cooing to the girl in her belly, telling her what a filling meal she made and how she actually lasted longer than most of the prey that worked in the office before her. She belches loudly, yawns, and makes her way upstairs, eager to sleep off her sweet little treat.

As the pred falls asleep the prey feels herself getting sluggish, losing the battle to the stomach acids. Her entire career, her search for love, her lifespan– all cut short by the churning walls of some hungry lady’s gut. Everything goes numb and dark…

And then, the new girl discovers something incredible about herself, something she’d never had any way of knowing before.

She can reform.

She wakes up in her own bed, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling. Everything feels too bright. It wasn’t possible, it just wasn’t; she’d just been digested, she should have been dead. And yet somehow, somehow she was still laying there, breathing and thinking and feeling like she’d always done every morning of her life. She was still living. She’d survived.

A confident, wide grin spreads across her face.

She shows up at work the next day, shocking everyone, especially the girls who’d fought over her the day prior. The pred that ate her actually becomes a bit pale and flustered. None of them have ever experienced a meal coming back to haunt them.

Throughout the rest of the series, the new girl flaunts herself to her coworkers, teasing them and offering herself up on a silver platter, only to slip away in the morning and leave their bellies emptier than she’d entered them. She builds up a reputation for being a fulfilling catch, too, squirming and writhing and stirring up a myriad of wonderful feelings in the pred’s body. Some of them are even encapsulated by her as a person, rather than a meal. There are office bets started up, debating who’s stomach she enjoys being in the most. The female pred from before finds herself fantasizing about being asked on a dinner date by the prey.

She actually grows to become a somewhat respected member of the company, spending her days heading boardroom meetings and her nights gurgling away in the depths of some lucky colleague’s belly.

Ultimately, she ends up leaving the office a better place than she found it. Her preyish nature makes a lot of the preds more opened-minded, and maybe they start hiring other prey around the office without any ulterior motives. Maybe some of them start holding memorial services for the prey coworkers that they’d eaten in the past. Collaboration reaches an all time high as preds realize they don’t need to be competitive anymore.

Sure, the work environment can be a little tense at times. The “new girl” is still prey, after all, surrounded by an office of hungry preds. That will never change. But this time around, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Dark Moon | Chapter Seven

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 2,8k

Warnings | +18, torture, beating, violence and threats, slight mention of past abuse, Jimin has much suppressed anger

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Dark Moon is a story destined to get darker and darker, be careful ❤️

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal, @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon, @hecateslittlewitchling, @namjoonsbuspass, @darkuni63, @xicanacorpse

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - Previous - Next

She had gotten out of the Dark Moon business, at night she no longer heard shady footsteps of clients coming and going from the rooms of her former colleagues, nor any alcohol-induced shuffling murmurs from the hallway, the thing still seemed impossible for her to believe.

Over the course of those three days Jimin had not approached her in the slightest, in fact she had not even seen him, there were only the objects he used to testify to his presence in the house. Perhaps she also had to "blame" her time spent in her bedroom, her new refuge.

She hid under the covers wearing the softest and most delicate clothes she had ever had, even as a child she had never been able to afford such things, her childhood consisted of hunger and nightmares.

She knew that Jimin had not given her everything for free, and that soon he would present her with a hefty bill.

But what she did not know was that Jimin had avoided any contact with her to keep his beast at bay.

The idea of having her in his house, the house he had recently bought for her, drove him crazy with desire. He wanted to bang her at every angle of the house, make her his, sadistically thinking that it would be like a baptism for the new home.

Just before he made the decision to accept Seokjin's offer, Jimin was living in a smaller apartment, suitable for a man who lived alone but, more importantly, spent most of his time outside.

He wanted to give her all the amenities necessary and suitable for a young woman like her: a nice, airy room, expensive clothes, a private bathroom, and even jewelry.

Things that Y/N had barely touched except out of strict necessity, but it didn't matter, the only thing that mattered was that she was there with him, ready to fulfill his every order when he decided the time was right.

"Earth to Park Jimin, hey... Hyung... Yah, Jimin-ssi!" he roused himself from his thoughts by bringing his gaze to Jungkook; the young man was staring at him with large, doubtful eyes.

It was not only Jungkook who squared him strangely, the others also had one question stamped on their foreheads, ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’

Jimin sighed, "Sorry, go ahead-were we talking about the Just Bloods?" he rubbed his hands over his face, he hadn't slept a wink that night.

"They took out four of our people, in return we are holding one of theirs hostage," Hoseok said, Jimin raised an eyebrow.

"Only one? At the very least I would have expected carnage from you, Hoseok" Hoseok glowered at him.

"While you were having fun picking out the furnishings of your new apartment, I was attacked without warning, lost men, and it's already so much that I only captured one of them," darted the redhead, causing Jimin's amusement.

"Don't feel bad, hyung, you did a great job capturing the strategist," said Taehyung trying to improve Hoseok's tension.

"The strategist?"

"Choi Kyungi," replied Jungkook, "He is the right-hand man of the Just Blood leader, I'm sure they will be furious now."

"Furious and vengeful, what do we do Seokjin?" Namjoon turned to their leader for an answer; Jin did not even think about it.

"I want him to confess what his gang's plans are exactly, if they attacked us it's because they plan to take control of our territory, but I want to hear it from his putrid mouth," he hissed, "Torture him if it seems appropriate, I want him to confess by hook or crook, these bastards have already dared to do too much."

It did not take a genius to understand that Seokjin was livid with anger. The men they had lost had received a strict military education to be the perfect killers, Jin had invested in them and hated losing money, Jin just hated losing.

The man's grim look was sublime, his feline eyes showed no mercy, much less did the eyes of the remaining Bangtans.

Jimin, Namjoon, and Jungkook saw each other again in the afternoon at one of their establishments, Choi Kyungi stood there, tied with chains to a wooden chair, the room mostly empty except for some "work" tools they usually used when they had to gouge information out of someone's mouth.

"Hoseok?" asked Jungkook.

"Jin doesn't want him here, he's afraid it might kill him," said Namjoon as he looked sideways at the man with the sack over his head; they had sedated him to keep him quiet for a while and now it was their turn to wake him up.

"I wouldn't even blame him," spat Jimin, tossing aside the black sack covering their captive's face, the bruised face showed a boy who could not have been more than twenty-six years old, Jimin growled in anger before unleashing a punch on the man's well-delineated jaw, knuckles collided painfully on the already abused face, and instantly Kyungi opened his spirited eyes, gasping breathlessly, "Lice striking from behind would piss off anyone."

Namjoon approached the boy, lowering himself to his height, "Choi Kyungi, may we know what the fuck you're planning to do?" he asked trying to be reasonable in tone, he wanted to save himself the trouble of another beating at least that day, but in response the prisoner spat a stream of vermilion blood into his face.

"Fuck you, Bangtan boy," laughed Kyungi with contempt.

For a few moments frost fell in the room, no one daring to move in the face of that deliberate disrespect, Namjoon wiped his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, which he later observed disgruntled.

"That was my favorite," he hissed, the kick that shot straight to Kyungi's stomach was swift and powerful, the man coughed up more blood as Namjoon adjusted the collar of the sweatshirt in question, his tense gaze betraying his apparent calm. That dog had unnerved him, "I wanted to be charitable and save you a lot of beating, but you leave us no choice," he made a sign toward Jungkook, who nodded with a grin, his dark eyes glittered with sadism, and walking confidently and cadencedly on on his amphibians, black as his soul, he went to pick up an interesting object.

It was a spiked bat, which he clutched in the palm of one hand with confidence, his swollen muscles flexing from beneath the light mesh, foretasting the little job that would soon set them in motion.

"You're not going to walk out of here on your own legs, Choi," he laughed softly, showing the bat to Kyungi, who swallowed slightly without blurting out a single word, "You're such a jerk, like those little friends of yours who tried to play with us, not knowing that for Bangtans there is no such thing as forgiveness," he pulled back his mighty arm with speed, bringing the bat down against one of the unfortunate man's legs, who held back no longer and screamed breathlessly, his eyes out of their sockets testifying to the lacerating pain that the bat equipped with dangerous ferrous spines had been able to inflict on him.

He trembled agonizingly with his bruised jaw clenched; he would not speak.

Jimin studied the whole scene over and over again, he had lost count of how many times Jungkook had hit him; with the bat, with his own kicks and punches, nothing, Kyungi was barely breathing. He was only capable of spitting his own blood, soiling even more of the already long gone floor; he was a tough cookie and this Jimin had to admit.

"Stop, Jungkook," Jimin put an end to that torture, Jungkook gasped with his forehead and upper lip drenched in sweat, his dark, brooding eyes seemed unwilling to lose sight of their prey, with his chest swollen with irritation he threw his weapon to the floor, backing away.

Namjoon stepped forward to take his place, but Jimin shook his head.

He had something far more useful than torture or a beating; he could be said to have let Jungkook continue just for the sake of revenge.

He approached the now unrecognizable man, put a hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a postcard.

Kyungi widened his good eye, a choked breath caught in his throat.

Jimin smiled serpentinely.

"She's very pretty, Choi," he said softly, "Those chubby little cheeks make my heart melt, I have to admit," he chuckled, waving the postcard, which turned out to be a picture of a baby girl just nine months old.

"How...how" Kyungi stammered without being able to finish the sentence; he didn't have the strength.

"How did I get this picture? Bangtans have their own connections, Choi...as a result I know about your little girl that you left with her grandparents so they would take care of her, you went off to keep her safe and that's admirable, believe me," he said sympathetically, "But I probably wouldn't do the same in your place, who knows how many wolves might kidnap and eat the hunter's family when he leaves the hut to look for more food."

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME, PARK?!" he suddenly ranted, throwing himself at Jimin just enough that the chains could allow him, the idea that his little girl might end up in the hands of those bastards drove him crazy, and Park Jimin looked like the biggest bastard there.

"That should be me asking you, what the fuck do you want from us?" he asked in a low, quiet voice, "You'd better tell us if you don't want anything to happen to Mada."

Kyungi remained silent, frozen. He even knew his daughter's name, how far had he gone?

"Namjoon, take this picture, tonight we are going on a visit to Daegu province, Yoongi and Taehyung know where to go," the boy stretched out the picture of the little girl to his friend, followed by their prisoner's shout.

"I will talk! Fuck!" he whined, "Don't touch my daughter, I'll talk!"

"You'd better start doing that now, because I really don't know what might happen to her if you don't cooperate: our boss might sell her to a rich family that can't have children, as well as he might raise her in our brothel, making her a respectable Bangtan whore in the future," joked Namjoon, "Or he might just kill her, what do you say Jungkook? One way or another, you will never see her grow up."

"He could indeed, once a decision is made Kim Seokjin doesn't give up, not for anything in the world," shrugged the younger man, holding up the game to his friend.

Now in tears Kyungi spilled the beans, "The Just Bloods would never attack the Bangtans for no reason! Shit..." he exclaimed.

"Bangtan never had any contact with Just Blood, what the fuck are you talking about," chafed Namjoon, already fed up with that play.

"Not with us... but with Choi Minho yes," he said, sending a shiver down Jimin's spine, "He provides us with drugs and prevents the cops from giving us unwanted attention, in return we fulfill his favors," he swallowed, "And..." he cast a glance at Jimin, "He asked us to eliminate one person, a Bangtan."

Jimin snickered openly; it was obvious who Kyungi was referring to.

Minho must have really tied his finger the night he had spent at the Dark Moon under Jimin's threats, and he wanted to retaliate with in other ways so as not to get his hands dirty, the idea pissed Jimin off, it was as if Minho was openly declaring that Jimin wasn’t even worth it to be eliminated with his own hands.

That cowardly behavior was intolerable.

"Listen to me carefully, Kyungi," he leaned slightly toward him, "I want to know every thing you have said to each other, the plan you have devised, and most importantly the place where you are meeting," at those words the man tried to shake his head, but Jimin grabbed him hard by the hair, nailing him with one lethal glance, "Maybe we have not understood each other, you will do it or I will personally visit your daughter and feed her to the worms, screwing anything else, understood?!" he blurted lethally, Kyungi trembled from head to toe bowing his head, he had no choice.

Namjoon and Jungkook accompanied Jimin to his apartment first, they had just discussed about giving a bodyguard to the direct concerned.

"No way, I am Kim Seokjin's bodyguard, and a bodyguard with a bodyguard is even ridiculous to imagine," he growled.

"Hyung, a bodyguard is not embarrassing if your life is involved," the younger man tried to reason with him, failing.

"It's embarrassing if I've been trained to defend and stand up for myself, okay? I don't want someone to protect me," he made adamant, causing the other two to snort.

He got out of the car stymied, but Namjoon called him back, turned listlessly, "What?"

"Would you really have hurt that child, Jimin?" he asked, there was no accusation in his tone, just curiosity. In their world they had seen anything and everything, but they had never gone that far.

Jimin remained impassive, before shaking off an uncomfortable feeling.

"It's just the way we live, hyung, no hard feelings," he said in a colorless voice, before turning and leaving.

When he returned to his new apartment waiting for him was a small figure, she held a plate in her hands and on it lay a soft slice of chocolate cake, the girl's eyes widened.

They had not seen each other for days and she did not expect to see him at just such a time, she cast a glance at the wall clock that read two o'clock in the morning. She believed he would not be back by that evening....

She made to set her plate down on the low coffee table, but Jimin beat her to it, slipping away into his own bedroom.

She was petrified, was this the same intimidating man she had come to know?

She asked no more questions, grabbed her cake and ran to her room, to her shelter, before the boy changed his mind and came back to her with the intention of tormenting her.

But Jimin would not return to her that night, he was struggling with the blood that soaked his skin, after Kyungi's confession had made sure the man fully understood his situation, Jimin rubbed his skin under the shower water, bruised with rage.

Minho was not going to get away with this, the son of a bitch had finally moved, now not even Jin would find excuses to stop him from carrying out his revenge.

He thought back with disgust to his captive days spent in the dungeon of the Choi mansion.

His nerves tensed and he narrowly restrained himself from hitting the pale tiles of his bathroom with his fist.

That and more would be reserved for Minho.

He stepped out of the shower with a small towel tied around his hips, his shiny, flawless skin showcasing the man's beautifully fit figure.

He went to bed that way, not bothering to get boxers to sleep in.

He was tired and mentally exhausted, the last thing he wanted was to take one more step.

He closed his thin, magnetic eyes, trying to fall asleep, but in vain. Chaos reigned in his head, a woman's shadow stretched across his memories, and hours passed, hours where he tried to escape her hands, turned over and tossed and turned in bed in a sweat slick. The woman's laughter scratched his ears, while the Choi forefather's smile never stopped taunting him.

He jerked his eyes open staring at the ceiling in the dark, he breathed heavily for air, frustration made him kick between the clean sheets, he lifted himself up holding his head in his hands, a sickening rage that was hard to let go took over his body.

His beast.

He had to let it out.

He abandoned his bed in search of his vice, grabbed the pack of cigarettes and pulled one out, placed it between his fleshy lips inhaling its bitter substance once lit, after three or four puffs he realized it would do no good.

Frustrated and with damp hair in front of his eyes he pressed it down on the ashtray, putting it out in an unnerved manner.

He had developed an addiction to smoking to escape from his problems, but a bad feeling made him sense that even that habit would no longer be of any use, his crisis was not passing and he was going crazy after it.

With one last glimmer of lucidity he remembered her. Y/N.

He widened his eyes, pupils dilated. With his body trembling, invaded by negative emotions too painful to keep to himself, he prepared to reach out to the only life form in the house besides himself.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

The American people lost the debate last night, and it was more painful than usual to watch the parade of platitudes and evasions that worked in the debate format run by CNN. The network’s glossy pundit-moderators started by ignoring the elephants in the room – that one of the two men standing at the podiums was a convicted felon, the leader of a coup attempt, an alleged thief of national security documents who was earlier this year found liable in a civil court for rape, and has promised to usher in a vengeful authoritarian regime if he returns to office.

Instead they launched the debate with the dead horse they love to beat in election years, the deficit and taxes. Throughout the excruciating evening, Joe Biden in a hoarse voice said diligent things that were reasonably true and definitely sincere; Donald Trump in a booming voice said lurid things that were flamboyantly untrue. The grim spectacle was a reminder that this is a style over substance game.

Debates are a rite in which not truth but showmanship wins the day, and in which participants get judged as though it was a sporting event – which it pretty much is, in high school and college debate events. Before 2016, presidential debates were relatively decorous events in which the participants slammed each other, but more or less within the parameters of the true and the real with maybe a little distortion and exaggeration.

Then came Trump. You cannot win a debate with a shameless liar, because what you’re supposed to be debating are facts and positions. A lie is a kind of poison; once it’s in the room it makes an impression that is hard to undo, and trying to undo it only amplifies it.

Trump’s positions on anything and everything shift and slide at will, and he lies about his own past with pathological confidence – in this debate he both denied that he had sex with Stormy Daniels and that he praised the white supremacists who stormed Charlottesville in 2017. More substantively he lied – unchallenged, except by Biden – about his role in the January 6 coup attempt, and the CNN pundits did not trouble him further about his crimes. Trump talked about whatever he wanted – asked about the opiates crisis, he reverted to the lurid stories about sex crimes and open borders that obsess him and inflame his followers.

Most outrageous of all, and of course utterly unchecked, was one of the outrageous falsehoods Trump has been pushing for years – the claim that abortion continues on into infanticide, that doctors and new mothers are murdering babies at birth. That one candidate has long supported reproductive rights and the other has led the attack on them was not something you would learn from this debate.

Debates exist so that people can hear from the candidates, which makes sense when they’re relative unknowns. We’ve heard plenty from both of them for 40 years or so, since Biden was a young congressman and Trump was a young attention-seeker in New York City’s nightclubs and tabloids, and both of them have had the most high-profile job on earth for four years.

We didn’t need this debate. Because 2024 is not like previous election years, and the reasons it’s not are both that each candidate has had plenty of time to show us who they are and because one of them is a criminal seeking to destroy democracy and human rights along with the climate, the economy and international alliances. If you are too young to remember 2017-2021, this would not help you figure that out.

As political journalist John Nichols put it, “CNN is illustrating how a ‘debate’ where the moderators reject the basic responsibility of fact-checking in real time, and refuse to challenge blatantly false statements, is not a debate. It’s a chaos where lies are given equal footing with the truth.”

Much has been said about the age of the candidates, but maybe it’s the corporate media whose senility is most dangerous to us. Their insistence on proceeding as though things are pretty much what they’ve always been, on normalizing the appalling and outrageous, on using false equivalencies and bothsiderism to make themselves look fair and reasonable, on turning politics into horseraces and personality contests, is aiding the destruction of the United States.

The major American newspapers have been unable or unwilling to convey to the voting public that the fate of the country and its constitution are at stake, that the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025 is a game plan for authoritarian rule and the loss of long-protected rights for many kinds of Americans.

Trump dodged a mild question about taking action on climate change, and though moderator Dana Bash brought him back to the subject he then just boasted about how under his reign we had “the cleanest” air and water, on the very day that the US supreme court justices he appointed savaged yet another piece of environmental protection. The highly-paid pundits could have asked him about his recent promise to leaders of the oil and gas industry that he’d serve their interests if they donated $1bn to his campaign.

Because it’s not just the fate of the US but of life on earth that’s at stake in this election; in 2016, the US undermined global cooperation on climate by electing Trump, who withdrew us from the Paris climate treaty, installed Exxon’s longtime CEO as his first secretary of state, and went to war against environmental protections. Biden has a flawed record but many huge achievements on climate – plus less huge ones too many and complex to bring up in a debate format.

But the hacks running the debate were no more interested in substance or the fate of the country or the earth than Trump. They were putting on a show, and they were putting it on as though we still lived in a world that no longer exists. By so doing they further endangered the world in which we do exist.

[Rebecca Solnit]

[blingblong55]

Still beating- 141 + König

Based on a request:

Hi, I love the way you write :3 Can I make a distress call? Where you like each other but nobody takes action, so when you decide to confess you find him with someone else, basically him tired of waiting and moving on? I know it's sad but I love anguish 🥹 Please if you can include 141 + König

GN!Reader, angst, soldier!reader

Honey, my heart still beats for you Even though you don't feel it

It all started as a simple crush, feelings were mutual, conversations always hinting at more, and then the crashing down when you saw him with some other soldier. After so much time contemplating if it was good or not to tell him how you felt, you finally got the courage. You waited for him, his usual training would end around 7 p.m., so it made sense to just walk around and pretend to bump into him. That is until you saw him and another soldier. How he was flirting with them and making them blush.

Gaz:

His feelings for you developed after he and you had some rather funny conversations over comms during a mission. He liked how you can joke about anything, and found humour with you.

There were times when he made advances and did his best to let you know he had feelings towards you without saying or doing something that would jeopardise your friendship.

After months of making slow but in a way meaningful advances, he gave up. You weren't catching up to what he was meaning to say and just quit because he thought you didn't feel the same way and that's why you never did anything to better a future romance with him.

The second you saw him, it was like all that energy was drained. Gaz saw you, gave you a small smile and you gave one back. How you wished you had the courage to tell him, but now it's all gone.

As you walk away, he looks back at you. Maybe if things were different... Soap:

It was months of building up courage, and you got the news he too liked you. Ghost grew tired of the sergeant and just told you to confess, so that is what you did.

When you saw him with the other soldier, you thought Ghost played some cruel prank on you.

You liked him so much and watching him smile and be so close to someone who isn't you was what brought your confidence down. You kept overthinking about every sign he gave you. Was it all just false hope?

You weren't yourself anymore and everyone noticed it. The guy you had been head over heels for was with someone who you thought was prettier, funnier and better than you.

He did have feelings for you, but you never showed interest in him so he moved on, it's best to lose his feelings than to lose you as a friend.

Price:

It wasn't that he lost feelings, he just had a feeling you would not like him or need him the way he needs you that is why he had to occupy himself with some other recruit.

He really did all he could to wait for you to notice him in a more romantic way. And you worked so hard to make him notice you liked him.

If only feelings weren't so complicated, you wouldn't be walking back to your quarters with your heart in hand.

You were devastated, the only man you felt so strongly for, holding and kissing some other person.

Self-doubt swept in. Maybe you just weren't good enough and that is why you are now crying yourself to sleep over someone you thought would be the one.

Ghost:

He was always so open to you, except for his feelings towards you. He used to be so blunt about everything and now he is in some other's arms pretending it's you.

It stung, the guy who made you look forward to every morning, training and meetings now makes you want to stay in bed and not be seen by anyone.

He noticed your change in behaviour and wanted to ask about it but Gaz let him know it just wasn't right to ask, especially not if the question came from him.

You liked him so much, you liked how he had so many jokes to say and how he'd laugh at them. It was cute really, made you see a different side to him that he only showed you or Soap.

He is a strong soldier, having gone to wars with cartels, been tortured, and killed men and still you were the one thing he couldn't be brave about. All that training was nothing compared with his feelings.

König:

A colonel, a man who has waited hours in one position to snipe enemies and he couldn't wait just two more days to hear you confess.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt. You liked his charisma, how nervous he got around just you. The second you saw him with the other soldier, it made you realise that he indeed was leading you on.

The moment he saw you walk away with a frown, he understood the damage he had done.

It wasn't like you to look at him that way, to walk away and not speak to him for days on end.

The nights you couldn't sleep because you kept thinking of the events that happened throughout the entire day, a huge smile when you'd remember how he looked at you. All those little moments now bring pain.

[trancylovecraft]

(KNY) YANDERE PLATONIC! KOKUSHIBO x SISTER READER: You, Shibou. I, Kokoro (CHAPTER SIX)

Previous Chapter ☆♡☆ Masterlist ☆♡☆ Next Chapter

AO3 link

CHAPTER SIX: "Loathe the way they light candles in Rome But love the sweet air of the votives"

The response to fear or threats has several reactions, Often being called the Fight-Flight-Freeze-Fawn response.

Fight means to confront the threat. Flight means to run away from the threat Freeze means to shut down and block out the threat Fawn means to appease the threat.

Slow and cautious footsteps walked carefully down the hallway as if something was going to jump out at her any second. Shoulders tense, Her eyes travelled around the space in front of her.

It was the shrine hallway. Dimly lit. Hues of marine tinting the walls, ceilings and floorboards as she stalked along them, Okobo sandals clacking against the hardwood as she did.

[F/N]'s hand trailed along the wall beside her, Keeping close towards it.

She had woken up about half an hour ago, Tucked into the futon she had woken up from before with a throbbing migraine and aching legs.

[F/N] had lain there on the mattress, The memories of what happened some unknown time ago still fresh in her mind. She had tried to escape, She had gotten far too. Running for ages yet despite all her efforts it didn't matter in the end.

[F/N] had just wound up right back where she started. Her burning lungs, Beating heart and exhaustion. It was obsolete. She had just gone in a loop with all her effort gone to waste.

And him. Her captor and his insane ramblings, She didn't want to think about him.

She didn't get up for a while after that. Finding little to no motivation to do so coupled with her mind barely processing the information in her mind, Feeling as if she had been shackled to the frame. Like the bedding was trying to keep her down, To not let go. Feeding her false promises of ignorant bliss, Like it was just any other day back at the Kakushi base.

But [F/N] knew that was not the case.

She knew she had to get up eventually, It was an awful remembrance. Even worse when she eventually hauled her aching body off the futon, Swinging her tired legs over the frame and dragging herself out of the room.

[F/N] just wanted to go back to her bed, To crawl under the covers and never get out again. But to spite everything she so desired. [F/N] pulled herself out anyways, Not really knowing why.. Maybe to get a proper look at her birdcage, Perhaps.

The shrine was nigh identical to the one she had resided in before. From the hallway layouts, The group kitchens and to the library it was kept the almost the same to the one back in the real world. The keyword here being almost.

Everything was the same. Everything except a few key differences.

For one, The shrine didn't have any of the expansions the corps had built when they came. There wasn't any of the newer passages, There wasn't an aviary and the library was much smaller than it was.

Even then, [F/N] recognised this place. It was the older version of the shrine, The same once she had stumbled across when she was much younger. How it was here in this nightmare dimension was a mystery to her, It just added to the dogpile of questions she had spinning around in her head. One's she'd need to find the answer to later.

Two, While it was basically identical to the older version of the shrine, There was also a few changes of layout.

Some of it was small, Like a misplaced support beam or tapestries being of different patterns and shapes. On the other hand however, The differences were more.. Large.

For instance the wall she was trailing her fingers across wasn't like any the shrine had harboured. It was like wooden jacktop fencing, A criss-cross structure with diamond shapes as gaps letting spits of light through, An unknown source but one that wasn't aquamarine. A welcome change

Another was the shrine walls, The large stone fortress and the big mahogany gates separating the main building from the outside world were completely gone. Disappeared as if they were never there.

Lastly was the courtyard. Instead of compacted and smooth dirt as flooring it was replaced with a wide open port, Like something large ships would anchor down at but rather one that connected all the docks outside to it like the base of the tree and it's roots.

With both the courtyard and the walls gone it left just the shrine on its own, All by itself in this infinite sea.

But the one thing that ate away at her, The one thing that made the entire shrine feel so wrong in the first place. It was the emptiness.

There were no Kakushi or shrine maidens passing through the hallways, Their conversations and laughter ringing down the passage.

It was instead being replaced by cobwebs and their spiders, Scuttling quietly in the dark corners.

The libraries? Cold and dust-ridden. The kitchens were barren, Dirty and uncared for. Everything was old and seemed to fall apart. It was disgusting and [F/N] couldn't deny the pang it sent straight towards her heart.

[F/N] felt like her situation still hadn't registered in her mind, The entire thing scrambled in pieces. It was so overwhelming, This wasn't real. This can't be.

[F/N] stopped in the middle of the passage. Leaning up against the jacktop walls as her hand gripped the side of her jinbei, Hand over her heart as she tried to steady her breathing. Telling her everything would be alright.

Head leaned back as she calmed the rhythm of her lungs, She clenched her hands tight to feel the soft feeling of fibre in-between her palm.

Oh right.. That's why she got up.

Opening her hand she revealed a scrunched up note, One she had found beside her futon with a small serving of lukewarm soba. It was a note from him, The demon.

To [F/N].

When you receive this note, You should have already awoken from your slumber.

Once you finish reading this note, I expect you to eat the bowl of soba I have provided to you on the vanity desk. Once you have consumed it, Make your way towards the main dining room. I know you know your way there.

Wait patiently. And do not keep me waiting.

-黒死牟

[F/N] crumpled the paper into a tiny ball within her palms. She tossed it aside and let out a breath of air she didn't know she was holding as she mellowed out against the wall.

He wanted to see her. She wasn't completely sure of the reason but [F/N] had a creeping suspicion crawling up her spine. It was the same reason she dragged herself out of bed, Why she was going in the first place.

She wanted answers.

[F/N] placed her hands either side of her on the wall, Pushing herself up she dusted off her jinbei.

She had already spent what little time she had mapping out the fake-shrine. Don't keep him waiting, He said. Being on time wasn't exactly her strong suit but the vision of those amber eyes stalking her, Appearing in her peripherals yet disappeared when she looked that way.

It felt like cold water was being poured down her back. [F/N] felt helpless, More so than usual. She had no mask nor sword, What Kokushibo had done with them she didn't know. But [F/N] felt naked without them, Without it [F/N] was just herself..

And that didn't sit right with her at all.

☆♡☆

The tiny flame was brought up to the tip of the incense stick, The tiny fire starting to catch onto the wood, The flicker of an ember sparking up at the end.

Mitsuri set the incense down onto the platter. The aroma of cherry lotus started the dance in the air as it burned, A scent she breathed in deeply.

The smoke was sweet, It smelt like crushed cherries and freshwater rivers. A cool breeze on a summer day, A sacchariferous taste lacing it as the wind danced across the valley. It was calming, It was nostalgic. Anemoia, Yet Mitsuri knew it all too well.

She turned around towards the bath, Steam rising up from the water within. Mitsuri rested her hands on the cedarwood sides and slowly got in. Watching as the water parted for her as she sunk inside, Rising up until it was at her neck.

Mitsuri stared up at the ceiling above her, She felt.. fine.

She didn't feel good, Not by any stretch of the word but she didn't feel that bad, Not right now anyways. She just felt fine, For how long she didn't know. But right now was okay.

The smell of the incense kept the bad thoughts at bay, Keeping them away out of mind. Along with the bath that was hot against her skin, Most of the thoughts were burned away along with the sticks. Though, Only one still lingered in her mind.

Shinobu. Mitsuri knitted her eyebrows.

What she said to her the other day bubbled up in her mind like the foam rising up from the bottom of the bath. Mitsuri regretted it, She shouldn't of said something like that and it had been eating away at her for a good few days now.

"G-Get out.. Y-You did this, We both did.. But.. Y-You don't even care at all…"

Mitsuri sunk a little lower in the bath. It was wrong, She knew as soon as Shinobu closed the door that it was wrong. But everything felt just so wrong in that moment. Looking back on it, Mitsuri wanted someone to blame and Shinobu was just an easy target.

Mitsuri grabbed the oil from the side of the bath. Popping open the cap she poured some onto her hands as she started to massage it into her hair, Washing out all of the grease built up over weeks.

Mitsuri would need to apologise. It was nasty what she said, She'll need to see Shinobu later and apologise for their entire meeting.

Though that wasn't to say nothing good came out of it at all, This was the first time in weeks Mitsuri had bothered to leave her room. Not to go outside, Get food or bathe. She didn't want to leave either, The outside world feeling so foreign, So terrifying that she barely left the safety of her covers.

It felt like she was trapped under them at times. The weight of her heavy heart keeping her stuck down on the mattress. [F/N], Mitsuri never really knew how fast a loved ones face can melt away into an abstract masterpiece after they died.

But now as she watched [F/N]'s face appear inside her head, A faded blur of what it once was she understood perfectly now. The features on her face slipping away from her, Only the general splotches of colour and shape left now.

It was terrifying, But her meeting with Shinobu and Obanai seemed to make her shift. Pull her out from under the covers only slightly. The state of the room helped snap her out of her trance too. The rotten food, Piles of clothing and the gathering of dust.

It all helped, If only a little bit.

The promise Shinobu had given told her, The promise of revenge on the demon who did this. It was the one thing that got her moving, The last working cog. Vengeance, She desired it so bad her chest started to throb.

Mitsuri felt a small tear roll down her cheek, Letting it mix in with the bathwater. Even if she was able to get out of her bed, Pull herself and try to wash away the stains. How could she go on now, How could she get vengeance for her?

She could wash off the dirt all she wanted, Scrub and scrub until your skin is spotless but the filth she felt stayed on her like a cancer. How could she ever go on? [F/N], The person she grew up with, The person who stayed with her through thick and thin and the person who loved her despite all of her flaws.

It was hard enough when Rengoku died, Her master who she looked up to like a big brother and taught her everything he knew. When the crow delivered the news she was distraught, But then she at least had [F/N] there to hold her hand, Pull her into a hug and tell her everything would be fine.

But now [F/N] was gone there was no one to do that for her. Comfort her and tell her everything would be fine, Because the truth is it wasn't. Everyone around her that she loved and cared for were dying left and right and soon enough there would be no one left.

[F/N].. Mitsuri could lose everything in the world. She could lose her job, Her friends and her limbs. Even then she could smile and say it was okay, But [F/N].. She just couldn't lose her, Anyone but her.

Mitsuri can't go on, She just can't.

"I want you to know I did it I did on my on voilition. I chose this, You have nothing to feel bad over."

"How could I not feel bad over you, [F/N]?" Mitsuri whispered, Running her fingers through the strands. "You're my best friend.. My first friend. We were suppose to do this together yet I let you down.. I-I deserve this.."

"You deserved a better friend than me."

"That's not true.. You're the one who deserved a better friend.. I was stupid and did nothing at all to help you at all, I did this to you.. How could you say I deserved better..?" Mitsuri mumbled.

"The truth is its you. You were the only thing that made me feel like I had a family, Like I had my childhood, Like I was a normal person for once in my stupid little life. I adore you, Tsuri. I really do."

Mitsuri's tears started to pick up.

"I-It's funny.. You were always able to see the good in others, Even if they were horrible and mean-spirited you were able to find their worth. In everyone.. Everyone except yourself.." Mitsuri sniffled.

"I'm living a lie, Everyday I go to work as someone I'm not because of myself. It's pathetic. There isn't any meaning, I'm sorry for saying this but as these are my last words I feel like it's necessary."

"D-Don't ever say that about yourself.. Don't apologise.. Y-You have nothing to be sorry for. Just because you were someone else doesn't mean your true self has no value.. I-It's not pathetic.. Never say it is.." Mitsuri felt the oncoming tears flow out of her slowly.

The voices stayed silent for a moment. Mitsuri watched the ripples in the water as her vision blurred up.

"I love you, And I wish I said it sooner"

Mitsuri sunk just a little further into the water, She tilted her head up towards the ceiling. Staring far-off somewhere else. The cherry lotus incense still burned bright as ever, Smoke dancing in the air.

"Me too.."

☆♡☆

The ticking of a clock, An earworm that wouldn't stop ticking. Over and over, It repeated without any sign of stop.

There was no clock within the room however, The sound a hallucination to accompany the beads of sweat building up in the humidity of her palms. Ones that rested uncomfortably on her knees as [F/N] sat on the tatami mat.

The dining room, It had barely changed from the real one. Ignoring the dust and cobwebs scattered here and there things like cabinets filled with old china, Several talisman statues and empty incense platters were still lying about.

All of this of course was settled within the long layout of the room supported only by rickety wood support beams. [F/N] bit her tongue, The high ceilings and wide structure made her feel small within the confines.

She couldn't help but scan her eyes left from right, Trying to spot any sign of Kokushibo.

[F/N] had been sitting here for over fifteen minutes now just waiting for him to arrive. She had no idea how he would know she was here and waiting, How he predicted when she would be awake but figured he had some sort of way. However disturbing that way might be..

She rubbed the back of her neck, Trying to massage the ache out of it. [F/N] barely could recognise that same familiar sensation of eyes watching her, It only registering in her mind once she felt the cold breath hit her neck.

[F/N] froze, Body stilling like a lake.

"Good.. You are here." Kokushibo mumbled, Only a foot behind her as his eyes dug into her skin. His stare, It felt like it reached deep into her soul and was looking straight at her very being. Scrutinizing her, Judging her every inch.

[F/N] quickly exhaled, A shaky breath escaping her. She didn't dare to turn around, Gathering her bearings as she spoke.

"What do you want." [F/N] asked, Eyes dead set on the wall opposite of her. She didn't even need to turn around to feel his frown etched deep onto his face.

"When you speak to me.. I expect you to show some respect in your tone.." Kokushibo said. His voice was stoic and unwavering yet held such weight to it that [F/N] couldn't help but swallow down her nerves.

When she didn't make the move to speak, Kokushibo took the chance for her.

He placed down something in front of her with a clank, One that was so quiet yet sounded like sirens within the silence of the dining room.

It snapped [F/N] out of her nervous stupor and brought her eyes down to the object in front of her, Revealing it to be a cooked and cut unagi and rice. Grilled river eel that seemed to be sprinkled with chopped leek and black pepper.

[F/N] stared down at it, Seemingly surprised at what it turned out to be as Kokushibo sat down at the other end of the table.

She looked up at him. Even though he was sitting down on his knees, Hands on his shins he still stood towering over her. The darkness of the room cast a deep shadow over his face, One that was staring right back at her, Not saying a word.

They stayed like that for a few moments. [F/N] couldn't help but feel the growing sense of awkwardness under all the tension as she looked over at him. It was quiet, Unsettlingly so.

Compared to how he acted earlier, This was more.. Hands off than before.

When she had first awoken in her caricature of a bedroom he had been there, Watching her from within the murkiness. Once she raised herself from the bed he hadn't taken any time on approaching her, Grabbing her by the cheek and trying to display some kind of faux affection.

It sent shivers down her spine just thinking about it. He had gotten so close like it was a regular occurrence. He didn't want to let go either, Keeping her in place backed up into the corner in fear. He had absolutely no qualms about invading her space.

Though it must of changed once she had gotten out of there, Ran away down the shrine hallways and came face to face with the void outside. Maybe it was what she said to him or the fact that she had tried running away.

"Tire yourself out all you want.. Run as long and as far as you like but you will never be able to leave me.. Not again. When you come back.. Do not expect to be treated with such affection that I have offered you thus far.. Not until you stop with this stupid rebellious phase of yours.."

[F/N] supposed he had kept to his word. He wouldn't be treating her with any kind of 'warmth' or 'affection' as he so put it, Not until she stopped her 'stupid little rebellious phase.'

Her lip quirked. The way he phrased it sounded so wrong. So infantilizing like she was just a rowdy teenager with a lack of basic manners when in truth she was a wounded hostage, Desperately aching for escape, Salvation.

[F/N] hated him, The way he looked and the deepness of his voice. She hated it all. She feared him too, Right now she was helpless. Without the mask or her sword she was useless, Completely at his mercy.

The dressing around her mid-section was the reminder of that, He could kill her anytime he wanted and the fact that he didn't pissed her off.

Somehow, someway. [F/N] needed to find a way out of here, Away from this nightmare, Away from her captor.

"[F/N].. Eat.. I took time in preparing you that meal.. And I expect you to accept and consume it gratefully.." Kokushibo rumbled. His voice sharp and cold like the edge of his sword, Like he was pointing it right at her, Ordering her to do as he says.

[F/N]'s lip thinned before nodding slowly.

"Use your words.." Kokushibo interrupted, Not accepting her non-verbal communication. [F/N] itched, The words seemingly lost at the edges of thought before she spoke.

"Yes.. Thank you.." [F/N] muttered, Eyes locked onto his middle pair as she waited for his response on baited breath.

Kokushibo stared back at her, A blank unfeeling gaze seeming to weigh her words on a scale. He didn't speak, Just hummed lightly.

"Acceptable.." Was all he said.

He continued looking upon her as [F/N] shakily picked up her pair of chopsticks. The thin wood hovering over the unagi, Trying to determine whether the meat was laced or not.

[F/N] gulped. Was she willing to take the risk?

"What..? It's perfectly good eel, I should know.. I caught it myself." Kokushibo asked lightly. His head cocked to the side, Eyes unblinking as he stared her down. "..Why aren't you eating..?"

[F/N] bit her lip, Thoughts scrambling to find a good reason to present to him.

"I-It's just.. The bowl of soba earlier was enough.. It.. It kind of made me lose my appetite is all.." [F/N] said. It was a lie, The bowl of soba that came along with the note wasn't even touched. She didn't feel hungry, She hadn't for a while now.

Kokushibo's eyes narrowed.

"Impossible.. You have been asleep for weeks, One single bowl of soba is not enough.. You must eat.." Kokushibo argued, An accusatory tone lacing him like a prosecutor as he examined her form.

[F/N] gulped. Weeks. Right, Apparently she had been asleep for weeks? It didn't quite register inside her mind, Her sense of time seemed muddled. Minutes and hours mixed together and became one, Measurement wasn't reliable.

[F/N] exhaled.

"R-Right.." She mumbled. The pair of chopsticks still shaking in her hands she slowly lowered them down towards the unagi. Kokushibo watched as she picked up a piece of eel in-between the sticks before raising it towards her mouth.

Nerves irrationally racing under his gaze, [F/N] parted her lips and placed the eel in her mouth as she stared back at him.

She chewed, A sudden sweet taste started to flood onto her tongue as she did. It was soft, Similar to squid in its texture and was unlike her expectation of a bitter, salty and greasy taste.

"..How is it?" Kokushibo asked.

[F/N] swallowed the chunk in her mouth.

"Good.." She answered and this time it wasn't a lie. It did taste good, It was perfectly cooked and seasoned, Made with care and wasn't laced, At least she thinks so anyways. It was good, But it didn't take away the way it felt strange in her mouth. Not from the taste or personal preference but instead in the way you'd try to eat more on a full stomach.

Kokushibo nodded.

"Continue then.." He said, And [F/N] complied under his command. She continued to eat the unagi however awkwardly it felt, Trying her best to focus on the bowl instead of his face. It was quiet, Neither [F/N] or Kokushibo spoke.

"..How was your sleep?" Kokushibo questioned, Breaking the silence between them.

[F/N] looked up at him, The grasp on her chopsticks grew slightly tighter at his attempt to start a conversation. For whatever reason he wasn't going directly in with the questions, It unsettled her stomach and quite frankly annoyed her.

"Fine.. Could of been better.." [F/N] grumbled, Alluding to the bloody dressing and the room walls surrounding her. She said it with a sarcastic tone and a bead of cold sweat running down her brow as she took another bite of the eel.

Kokushibo paused.

[F/N] kept her eyes down, Hoping she didn't go too far.

"You are still opposed to your new living arrangements.. I suppose.. It's understandable. This is a big change for you.." Kokushibo drawled. [F/N] felt another spike in her annoyance, It was that same infantilizing tone.

[F/N] decided to push her limits.

"Why am I here? Like.. H-How is this place even here.. I want you to give me the truth.." She asked, Raising her head up to meet his and lowering down her chopsticks. Her brows were furrowed.

Even though he had "explained" some of it earlier [F/N] had rejected it entirely. She wanted a truthful answer not hidden behind delusion or manipulation.

Kokushibo was quiet for a moment.

"I have told you over and over.. What I say isn't false nor do I intend to trick you.. What do I need to do to convince you of that?" Kokushibo's voice stated to grow colder, It started to sound irritated at her denial. It seemed like [F/N] was near the limits she could push with him.

"You are my younger sister.. I am your older brother. You are here because I want you to be.. This place is your new home now.. You will not be leaving anytime soon so I suggest you start to accept that.." Kokushibo said in a near deriding tone, Making sure to annunciate every word as clear as day to her.

[F/N] shook her head, She opened her mouth ready to speak but was cut off by Kokushibo's own speech.

"I suppose you already know why you're here.. Except for trying to spend some time with my little sister.. Which you ungratefully don't want to do.. It is also because I have questions of my own.. So.. Here is how this is going to go.." Kokushibo started.

"I will ask a question.. And you must answer truthfully. After you have answered.. You may also ask a question of your own.. And I will answer honestly in return.. We will take turns asking until we are both satisfied." Kokushibo suggested.

[F/N] bit her lip. The proposition he had offered to her was appealing to say the least. She would be able to get her answers while he would be able to get his, What kind of questions he had she had no idea.

It didn't matter though. [F/N] wanted to give in to the temptation, Whatever he could ask her couldn't hurt. She'd get her answers and have some kind of basis on this place.

[F/N] nodded.

"Alright."

☆♡☆

The strong smell of chemicals singed at the tip of her nose, It was the only thing she could sense with her entire sight being a dark nothing. She couldn't hear anything either, Nothing except from a high-pitched ringing that is.

The girl groaned, She writhed around tossing back and forth. It felt like every inch of her was in pain, All of her nerves flared up like bottle rockets and exploding in agony. It was barely bearable.

Where was she?

She had no idea. All of her senses were muddled by the pain in her body, It was hard to tell. A metallic bitterness in her mouth, It was really the only thing that she could taste and the only little thing she could sense.

What even happened, Why was she in so much pain? Everything was in pieces, Parts of her mind scrambled into thousands. It felt like something was just out of her grasp, A lost memory, Something she felt was.. Important.

She stretched out a hand, Reaching out into the abyss. Her fingers tried to grab down on something, Anything that she could touch within the shadows.

As her arm extended forward she could feel a sort of.. Light.

It was hard to explain to her, It wasn't visible nor was she sure it was really there. It was strange like a ghostly apparition reaching back out to her, Their spectral hand grazing the tips of her fingers with a cold touch, Sending shivers down the girls spine.

The girl reached out further, A sudden determination to fight through the agony as she tried to grasp the phantom hand.

Tears prickled at her eyes, The pain was excruciating but she fought through it anyways. The palms of her hands starting to graze the hands of the apparition.

The girl grappled onto them, The freezing touch of their grasp embraced hers like a mother holding their child's hand. It was comforting, Even though it chilled her to the bone it was nice, One that felt familiar.

The hand moved, Bringing the girl forward. The pain had completely dissipated now as she was guided upwards, Gently brought forth into the void.

Though as she felt herself rising upwards the darkness enveloping her started to shift too, The shadow parting for her as she went. A new light started to become visible, One independent from the hand as it started to shine.

The girls lips parted, She felt air rushing into her lungs and escaping out through her mouth. Was she not breathing before? The rhythm of her heart started to beat as the light started to grow larger and larger.

It was so blinding that she had to close her eyes. A sudden resonance echoed from within her mind, Lost memories starting to rise.

The girls obsidian eyes opened wide, The light fading out into the clarity of a room. A sharp gasp came from her, Hands gripping the bedsheets she lay on.

She remembered now.

☆♡☆

[F/N]'s brows knitted together, Her lip bit as she waited on baited breath for his question. The tension built up seemed near visible in the air, Almost suffocating so within the darkness of the room.

Kokushibo sighed, Stoic in face, Completely blank making it near impossible to tell what he was thinking. It was uncomfortable to say the least, [F/N] squirmed around under his gaze.

Though she quickly stilled, Keeping her composure. This was her time to get answers. She couldn't falter here, Not now. She needed to stand her ground, Raise her shoulders and look him straight in the eyes, No matter how herculean of a task staring at them was.

"So.. For my first question.. I'll start easy.. " Kokushibo started, Silence broken as his voice echoed lightly in the room.

"..What is your full name?"

[F/N]'s mouth turned into a frown. A rather anti-climactic question from what she was expecting, Though to be fair she didn't know what she was expecting. [F/N]'s shoulders drop only slightly.

"[F/N] Fujimori." She answered quickly.

Kokushibo stayed silent once more. A bead of sweat rolled down [F/N]'s brow, Though she tried not to show it from her hardened expression. What was he thinking..?

"Alright then.. As per our rules you may now ask me a question.. And I will answer honestly." Kokushibo said, Nodding slightly to urge her on.

A question. It was her time to ask.. But what? Where should she start, Which one out of a thousand should she ask? She could only ask one but that was nowhere near enough.

Another bead of sweat dripped down her side.

[F/N] bit her lip. Start easy. Take a deep breath, You'll be fine.

"Okay.. Where am I.. What is this place?" The first question that came to mind. [F/N] steadied her breathing, Good. It was probably one of the better questions she could of asked. She should get a basis of where she is first, Use it as the foundation to base her next few questions off of.

Kokushibo hummed lowly.

"You are in a replica of your shrine.. I ordered this place to be built a few centuries ago after your.. Accident.." Kokushibo paused. "Though it is not exact.. You may have noticed a few modifications.. They are rather recent and have been made for your comfort here.."

Comfort? Like hell this place could be of any comfort to her. It was a mockery of her home, Her sanctuary. Whatever modifications he could have made would never be able to provide any kind of solace to her.

But it was another part of his sentence that drew her attention.

"Accident?" [F/N] queried, Curiosity building on her tongue.

"It is my turn to ask questions.." Kokushibo cut in, Sharp tone cutting through her with a drop in temperature fastly following it.

[F/N] froze, But nodded along quickly not wanting to push her limits any further.

"Second question.." He started "When I found you once more.. You were injured by me in the rubble of your shrine. You appeared as a man, A Hashira.. Not just any but the one who killed a thousand of my kind.. So my question is to you, Why are you a slayer.. How did you do it..?"

Kokushibo's voice was calm yet [F/N] could sense a new undercurrent of bafflement mixed with.. Disdain. It was confusement, One of the only feelings he had shown throughout their conversation.

And if [F/N] was being honest, She shared the sentiment.

"Well.. I.." [F/N] stuttered. Answer honestly, Those were the rules of the game. But [F/N] barely knew what the truth was.

"..I became a slayer because I.. Because.. My friend was going to become a slayer and I just came along for the ride.. How I killed a thousand, I didn't really intend on doing so.. It just kind of happened.. " It was the truth, [F/N] didn't lie when she answered. But it wasn't exactly the full truth either.

Kokushibo's eyes narrowed.

"You became a slayer because.. You followed a friend?" Kokushibo asked. The disdain in his voice more prominent now as he stared her down. [F/N] swallowed.

"My turn." She answered, Expression turning to stone.

Kokushibo's nose twitched.

"Touché.." Was all he said.

"About the accident you mentioned.. What are you referring to?" [F/N] asked. Accident, The way he said it earlier was like the word was stuck on his tongue. [F/N] could tell it was hard subject, Both from the way he said it and how his face seemed to fall once she asked it.

Kokushibo took a moment before responding.

"Your accident.. Yes. It was around five hundred years ago now in the Sengoku era.. It.. It's still fresh in my mind." Kokushibo's voice started to go down, Only in a single pitch as he spoke. Eyes wandering off somewhere else.

"A few months before it happened you had fallen ill.. A hereditary sickness passed down from our mother.. I had been searching months for a cure to no luck. I had came back to your shrine with.. A kind of cure per se but when I had arrived.. It was too late."

[F/N] listened on intently. This was manipulation, This just a lie. But.. Did he really need to create such a narrative? He had explained her falling ill, Going so far as to describe it as an illness from 'their' mother. Was he really going this far..?

"It wasn't the illness that killed you.. Instead it was a pair of slayers. When I had arrived it was in the middle of winter.. A blizzard had picked up and you had ran out into the snow to escape.. You were fatally wounded and by the time I found you.. You were dead, Curled up in the snow, Your body was already frozen over.." Kokushibo trailed off, His voice growing lower until it wasn't heard anymore.

Kokushibo looked up towards [F/N], Eyes looking upon her form. She was still, Unnaturally so.

Not a single muscle moved, Neither from [F/N] or the demon across the table from her. Her lips were parted, Eyes stuck dead open as she stared down at the table.

"I.. You.." She stuttered. Her voice was so quiet, Her jaw started to shake.

[F/N] looked up to him, Glazed over eyes staring at him with a horrified yet disbelieving expression. She stared as if he had three heads, Her head shook.

"A blizzard.. You said.. You said it was a blizzard?" [F/N] stammered. It sounded like she hadn't spoken in days, Like all water had been deprived from her throat. A blizzard, He said she died in a blizzard.

Kokushibo's frown deepened, A grimace starting to play on his face. He didn't even care that she asked another question, The terrified visage she wore distracting him from that fact.

"..Why? Does that mean something to you..?" Kokushibo queried.

It did. It meant everything to her, Her dreams. The original visions that have been haunting her like spectres for months, The blizzard she had trudged through night after night only to collapse time and time again.

He told her it was the way his sister died. She was killed off by a couple of slayers, One's that fatally wounded. It matched up to the unbearable pain in her chest whenever she was there, The way she felt so frantic in escape. It matched but.. How?

These dreams she barely told to anyone, While she had admitted she suffered from night terrors what happened in them wasn't explained to anyone. No one he would have in contact with should know about her nightmares.

But somehow he knew, It was exactly like how he described.

"Answer me.. And consider it my next question." Kokushibo broke her chain of thought, Yet she could barely hear his annoyed voice from the cold sweat building up on her palm.

"DON'T LET HIM CATCH US, [F/N]. DON'T LET HIM FIND US!"

A voice she hadn't heard in a good long while cried out inside her mind. It was her.. Her double. The start of deviation in her visions, She had came to her with a warning. One she couldn't decipher.

Neurons connected. The end of her dreams, When she had fallen into the snow and curled up into a ball she looked up. And every time she'd see a man rush towards her, Clothed in a lavender nagagi kimono and hakama trousers..

[F/N]'s bottom lip shook, She tried to verbalize her thoughts. Put them into words yet it seemed so difficult from under the weight of her raging mind.

This.. This couldn't be what she thought it meant. It couldn't. It can't..

Kokushibo's expression was unreadable, It wasn't like the annoyance before but instead it was like ice. He was stone, Whatever he was thinking didn't show. And it scared her even more.

"Explain. Now." He said just like his expression, Levelled and untraceable.

[F/N] tried to steady her breathing. A little voice in her head spoke out. Don't falter, Ask further.

"I.. I.." [F/N] stuttered, Setting her hands down onto the table and trying to organise her words. She swallowed back a lump in her throat, Making way for her explanation.

"I.. F-For a few months I've been having.. Nightmares." [F/N] started, Slowly pronouncing her words as if to test them on her tongue.

"Nightmares..?" Kokushibo mulled. He didn't make a change in his expression, Nor did his glare stray from her for a second.

[F/N] nodded.

"Y-Yes.. I've been having night terrors for a while now and in these nightmares.. I wake up in a blizzard." She confirmed.

Kokushibo's stare was blank, His eyes near draining the life out of her as his lips parted slightly.

"What occurs while you are having them?" He asks, But [F/N] only shook her head.

"..Isn't it my turn to ask a que-"

"Forget the questions." Kokushibo interrupted. "Tell me what happens.."

[F/N] froze. His sudden aura of authority was something she could feel in her bones. She was never one to obey any kind of Jurisdiction or higher human power, It wasn't in her nature or her nurture to do so.

But a natural instinct burst up inside her from the new atmosphere surrounding him, One that made her want to answer in fear of the consequences.

"I.. E-Every time I fall asleep I wake up in a blizzard.. I'm in the middle of a forest.. There's this pain in my back.. I.. I'm trying to get out of there but every time I get far I collapse into the snow.." [F/N] explained, Repeated almost exactly what he described back to him.

She decided against telling him the last part after seeing his expression.

Kokushibo at this point had a hand resting on his chin, A nail dug onto the pale moonlight shade of his flesh while another pulled gingerly at his lip. He wasn't readable before, But now [F/N] could feel a sense of.. Elation.

She noticed his face start to turn only slightly. The corners of his mouth starting to tug up subconsciously into a small smile.

It was disturbing, It looked so unnatural on his face like it was a cheap replica of an honest smile. But [F/N] could tell this was genuine enough, All from the way his arachnid eyes gleamed. Though despite the light in his eyes he radiated a darker aura. Something she recognised from the time he had sliced her abdomen.

[F/N] shuddered. He was happy.

"I see.. So you do remember something.." Kokushibo muttered. His eyes were off in thought, His grin was so small yet contained such a feeling of obsessive glee. It sickened her, It made her want to puke.

[F/N] tried to shuffle away slightly on the tatami mat she was sitting on, The bowl of unagi went abandoned as she felt her instincts kick up again.

This was impossible, This entire situation felt so wrong. When at any point in her life did she think she would be here? Staring down the unhinged monster opposite from her while he tried to convince her of blood relation. Through her dreams, No less.

"I-It's only a vision. It.. It means nothing." [F/N] blurted out. A thought that ran through her mind and one that she didn't mean to articulate out loud. Also one that she regretted immediately.

Kokushibo didn't seem wavered at all, His claw just continued pulling at his lip.

"No, No. Even if it is just subconciously.. There is still a part of you that remembers.. This.. This is great." He said just a little louder this time, Exasperated and maybe even a tiny bit excited.

If [F/N] thought his visage couldn't get any more hideous then she was proven very wrong. The way his smile stretched wider to reveal his canines, The way his cheeks made way for it and the way all six of his eyes sparkled under the pale light.

It was horrifying.

She barely registered him getting up from his knees, Standing at his full height within the shadow-infested room. He stalked over, One foot in front of the other barely made any sound as slowly made his way towards her.

[F/N] was only snapped out of her trance one he was now looming over her crouched form. She gasped, Shocked at the sudden closing of distance between them. She tried to move her body away, Try to gain some space but she felt fixed to the floorboards, Body unable to move.

Kokushibo went down onto a single knee, He hunched over with his middle eyes meeting her own in a locked stare down.

He seemed to examine her just for a moment, That smile smaller yet still stretched upon his face as he looked at her.

"..The chances of your dream matching up to my own tale is.. Improbable to say the least. You must agree that it's uncanny.. Do you agree, Little one?" He asked. It was almost as if he was taunting her as she tried desperately to think of an exit, Instincts on overdrive.

[F/N]'s jaw trembled. She was unable to pry her eyes away from his, Keeping her steady in place. She felt words grow on the tip of her tongue, Ready to spill.

"E-Even if what you're implying is right.. If your story has any truth to it.. Even if I am your sister.. Why did you kidnap me and take me here?" She squeaked, Shrill and high-pitched under the intense gaze of the Uppermoon.

It didn't make sense to her at all. It was one of the question she had been wanting to ask for a while now, His story didn't add up. Between both the ruthless nature of demons and their lack of sentimental attachment it just didn't make sense.

If she was his sister then that wouldn't constitute kidnapping her, It wouldn't change the fact that he should of killed her. Why he was so insistent on keeping her here, Why he had such an insane demeanour to him eluded her.

Kokushibo let out a breath of air, A shine in his eyes that could of been mistaken for fondness gleamed bright.

And his teeth glowed even lighter under the pale luminescence.

"Because.. Kidnapping you was a necessary evil.. The outside world is dangerous for someone like you.. If I let you out the chance of you getting injured or killed grows too high for my liking.. You need to stay here where it's safe, You need to stay here with me.." Kokushibo started.

[F/N] had no idea what to say, There was nothing to say. What words could she ever use to explain the overwhelming feelings rushing around inside her. Fear.. Anger.. Confusion and Hopelessness.

None of those words portray how she really felt. How much it felt like her heart was going to explode or how badly she wanted to run away.

"I'm your big brother, It's my job to protect you.. That's why you're here with me. I can't let you go back to those pathetic little slayers.. They are the reason I lost you for so long in the first place.."

He continued his rambling, Spoke about her colleagues and comrades with such acidity. The expression on his face was growing even more deluded and unhinged by every syllable spoken. [F/N] couldn't understand a single word, All mixing into a hazy mess.

"Besides.. If you just accept your new living situation then I'm sure you'll grow accustomed well enough.. If you would just stop with your little tantrum then you'll be much happier.. I can assure you of tha-"

Kokushibo paused mid-sentence

[F/N] watched in confusion as his smile fell and his face reverted back into his usual cold and serious expression in an instance.

He got up from the ground and tilted his head up towards the roof of the room, Seemingly engrossed in something [F/N] couldn't make out.

"Muzan-sama.." Kokushibo spoke lowly, His voice was filled with cordiality and stoicism similar to how a knight would speak to a king.

[F/N]'s eyebrows raised, Her lips pressed tightly together careful not to make a sound. Was he.. Was he speaking to Kibutsuji? The demon king, The progenitor of all demons and the bastard who had ordered her to be killed?

That's.. Not good.

[F/N] didn't speak a word though, It looked like they had some sort of telepathic link. Her sweat dropped more than it already doing, One after the other things got more and more insane. How much more can she handle?

The silence was louder than any sound, It felt suffocating yet she didn't dare to break it for a second. She didn't think she'd be intimidated by the progenitor, The passage of his name back at the corps meant nothing to her but now?

[F/N] was alarmed, On edge. Her fate was juggled in the hands of demons and death would be the better option in this scenario. She needed to wait on baited breath and see what the verdict was.

Kokushibo stood there, Nodding once or twice without ever saying a word. However whatever conversation they were having seemed important, She could tell by the sharpening of his eyes and the way his shoulders stiffened.

Was he going to tell him about her? What were they talking about? It was impossible to tell.

"Yes.. I will head over now." Kokushibo said at last. It was the final thing he said, A small nod before all movements went still.

They stood there, It was dead quiet.

Kokushibo looked down at her, That same cold expression on his face as he looked back at her.

"..I have been ordered to leave.. While I am gone I expect you to behave.. Do not try and run lest you wish to waste your energy.. Think over what we discussed here today and then maybe you'll start to see reason.."

That was all that he said to her. Kokushibo didn't wait for her answer before vanishing into thin air, Gone in an instant.

[F/N] exhaled, A breath she didn't know she was holding was released into the now empty room. It was colder now, The silence returned once again to invade every corner of the walls confines.

She came in for answers yet came out with more questions than she expected or wanted, The entire ordeal rewinding in her mind like a cassette.

This couldn't be real, She just wouldn't accept it.

☆♡☆

[F/N]'s feet dragged behind her out of the room, She didn't bother sliding the door shut. Too enraptured with the thoughts of her own mind to care.

She trudged down the hallways, Her head felt like a hurricane right now. Swirling and rushing around at high speeds, Thoughts coming in and out even faster. [F/N] felt like a weight was dropped in her chest, Doing the best of her ability to breathe in and out and not collapse onto the wall.

What were the chances that her dreams and his story matched up? It was impossible, He had described the exact sequence of events that occurred and had linked it to his sister's death.

[F/N] couldn't be related to him, She couldn't be related to Uppermoon one, A centuries old demon who has most definetly killed thousands at this point. But.. The coincidence was too big to be considered one.

She was conflicted to say the least, It felt like her brain and her heart were at war with each other. Her brain was telling her that there was no way that this could be possible, There was no feasible way.

Her heart on the other hand said otherwise, It told her that he was telling the truth. That there was some semblance of honesty to what he was saying yet it also told her that she should run. It resonated in her like nothing else.

It's words reminded her of that dream, Her double's warnings screaming into her ear like an air-raid siren. Crying and wailing out into the storm.

"WE CAN'T LET HIM CATCH US, HE'S NOT THE SAME. WE NEED TO RUN OR ELSE WE'LL NEVER GET AWAY, PLEASE [F/N] LISTEN TO US!"

Her double spoke as if they were one, Which they technically were but it felt different. It felt as if they were really the same person, Not split into two but just one single person.

[F/N] thought it was a prophetic dream from Inari, A warning about the shrine's future attack and to be prepared. At the time it felt like the most rational meaning. But now she didn't think that was the case anymore, It wasn't about the shrine at all.

It was about Kokushibo.

Her double spoke as she knew him all too well, She was scared of him. She told her he wasn't the same, Could that be referring to him being a demon? Maybe, [F/N] wasn't sure.

Or could it be referring to his behaviour. Back when he was towering over her, Leaning down to her level she could see the primal feeling behind his eyes, Like a feral animal. Not unlike a rabid wolf, It was a look she hadn't seen in anyone.

He was so sure that she was his little sister, And at this point? [F/N] had no idea what to think.

Everything was so complicated, It was all happening in such a short period of time that she just couldn't wrap her head around it. [F/N] didn't even want to think about it anymore, It made her head throb and even though she had only been up for an hour or two she just wanted to go to bed again.

[F/N] kept walking through the hallways, She had decided that it was exactly what she was going to do. She needed to sleep on it, Come back tomorrow and figure things out on a clean slate.

CREAK!

[F/N] raised her head from the ground. The old floorboards made a loud noise up ahead from behind the corner. [F/N] could tell it was from the lowering of a foot, Heavy and firm.

She groaned. Kokushibo was back already? That was quick. She didn't want to put up with him again, She just wanted sleep. One that actually made her feel like she was refreshed and rested once she woke.

Sighing, She called out to him.

"..I don't want to continue talking, I'm tired and-"

[F/N]'s speech was cut off, Her pace freezing like water in a single instant as she stared the man down.

That.. That isn't Kokushibo.

The man that turned the corner didn't look like him at all. Instead it was a young man of average height. He had a salmon shaded short-cut for hair and his skin was so pale that it was near sheet white, The only breaks from the artic colour were the thick navy blue streaks wrapping around his entire body.

His eyes widened at the sight of her, They were golden with his sclera like broken glass. It seemed he didn't expect her either.

[F/N] inhaled sharply. The kanji in his eyes catching her off guard. This is a demon, Not just any.. But Uppermoon three.

He opened his mouth to speak, Vampiric fangs glistening in the turquoise light.

"You.. What are you doing here?"

☆♡☆

The evening sun was lowering down on the horizon, The sky painted with hues of red, orange and purple made it look like a masterfully painted watercolour canvas. It was beautiful, Along with the cool breeze brushing into the valley it made a perfect landscape.

The butterfly mansion sat as tall as ever. Several Kakushi and slayers walked in and out about the building, They were sparse in numbers.

Most of the injured from a few weeks ago were already healed back to full health and were sent on their way. The ones that remained still lain on their hospital bed, Being treated by the residents here.

Shinobu wiped her brow, Beads of sweat brushing off onto the side of her wrist as she knelt down in front of the garden patch. Cabbage and turnip halfway grown within the fertile soil. She was currently picking weeds out from the stone lining around the vegetable patch, Gloves clad on her hands as she plucked another out.

Shinobu felt the cold breeze brush against her skin and flow through her hair. She inhaled, Taking it all in. It truly was a beautiful evening, It felt serene. Tranquil in the warm rays of the setting sun.

She listened to the birds chirp and the grasshoppers sing from the bushes. An amaranthine setting. So peaceful that she could pick up the soft footsteps approaching her from behind.

They were slow and Shinobu could hear them stop a metre or two away from her, She didn't need to look up from her work to know who it was.

Shinobu smiled quietly as she pulled out another weed.

"Mitsuri-chan.. It's nice to see you outside." Was all she said to her, Focused on her work.

Mitsuri stood a fair bit away from Shinobu. She was dressed in a white kimono decorated with vivid burst of colour, Blues and pinks morphing into a floral pattern. Both it and her dripping watermelon hair gently wove back and forth in the wind.

Mitsuri didn't smile, Only looked down at her sandals.

"Shinobu-chan.. I.. Are you busy? I can come back later if you are.." Mitsuri asked, Her voice was as quiet as the breeze around them as she fiddled with her fingers.

Shinobu shook her head and stood up from her crouching position.

"No, No! Just doing a bit of gardening is all.." She said, Turning around to meet Mitsuri with that same smile she always did.

Mitsuri looked better than she was last time Shinobu saw her. Her hair wasn't plagued by grease and her kimono looked fresh and recently washed. Though Shinobu could pick out a few outliers like the bags under her eyes and the way her braids weren't as carefully done as they usually were.

But overall, It was a good change.

"If you came here to apologise, It's fine." Shinobu spoke. Though her smile was taught her tone was genuine. Mitsuri shook her head.

"No.. No it's not. I said some really nasty things that I shouldn't of said. I'm really sorry Shinobu-chan, I-I hope you're doing fine.." Mitsuri sighed. She couldn't bring her eyes to meet Shinobu's, Too ashamed to see her face.

"Really, It's quite alright. You weren't thinking straight, I understand that.. And if it's any consolation I didn't take anything to heart." Shinobu assured, Taking a few steps towards the other girl.

Mitsuri didn't answer, Neither did she look up from the ground in shame.

Shinobu took a few more steps forward until they were only three feet apart, Approaching slowly her smile started to slightly decrease.

"Mitsuri-chan. [F/N] wouldn't of wanted you to be like this, I know this because it was in her last words.. I know it's hard but you need to stop blaming yourself." Shinobu assured, Her voice grew to a gentle whisper as she approached the other girl.

Mitsuri's expression didn't change.

"I-It was my fault though. And entirely mine.. I'm sorry about that by the way.. But the thing is if I had just tried a little harder or recognised the signs sooner I could of prevented this.. I could of done something.." Mitsuri lamented, A dull sorrow in her voice as she looked up at Shinobu.

"No, You couldn't of. Things like these are hard to recognise.. Some people can appear so happy and carefree but we never know what's going on down below. You couldn't of known.. I promise." Shinobu reassured her, Her hand reached out and grabbed Mitsuri's shoulder in a comforting manner.

Mitsuri's frown started to shake.

"N-No.. Shinobu. I could of, I did. I knew it was there yet I did nothing.. And now I need to live with what I've done.. What I could of done to stop her." Mitsuri whispered, Tears starting to prickle at her eyes.

Shinobu looked back into her shamrock eyes, Her glazed over violet a comfort to the girl.

"She really meant that much to you, Didn't she?" Shinobu asked lowly.

Mitsuri sniffled.

"She's half of my soul, As the poets may say." She replied.

Shinobu smiled.

"That's a quote from a book, Isn't it?" She asked, A lighter tone playing on her words.

Mitsuri's frown tried it's best to turn back into a smile.

"You've read that one too..?" She asked her.

"Of course, It's a romantic tragedy. One of my favourite genres.. I'm guessing it's one of yours too then." Shinobu questioned in turn. Mitsuri nodded.

"Yeah.. I was always into those kinds of romance books when I was younger and I don't know why but.. That quote kind of stayed with me, You know..? I always thought when I grew up that I'd find the person who I could say that about" Mitsuri's smile lowered.

"..I guess I just didn't realise I had her until she was gone.." She mumbled.

Shinobu rubbed Mitsuri's shoulder, A comforting action to try and soothe her nerves.

"I know.. I.. I'll miss [F/N] too. She really was one of a kind.. One day we'll avenge her though, We'll find the demon alright? We'll make sure her death meant something.." Shinobu admitted lowly, The smile on her face now gone as she looked down downwards her shoes.

Mitsuri thought over her words, Considering every vowel and consonant. All before bringing Shinobu into an awkward hug.

It was one that made Shinobu flinch on touch, But her figure relaxed before returning the gesture, Arms wrapping around Mitsuri's back.

"Alright.. We'll find them. We'll get revenge.." Mitsuri confirmed.

Shinobu was unable to see her face but she could feel the patter of tears fall onto her haori. Shinobu nodded, Staying silent.

They stayed like that for a good few seconds, Before a voice called out to them both.

"Lady Kanroji, Lady Kocho!" The voice yelled out.

They instantly retreated back into their previous positions away from each other. Shinobu recognised the voice as Aoi, One of the staff working at the estate.

She stood wide within the doorframe of the main entrance, Her face was alarmed as she looked at the both of them.

Shinobu and Mitsuri shared a look before running over to Aoi, Stumbling to a halt in front of her.

"Kanzaki-san, Is everything alright?" Shinobu asked, Her personality switched back into it's usual exercised type. A serious expression lain on her face as she looked at her staff.

A bead of sweat rolled down Aoi's forehead. She took a deep breath in, Unable to find the words.

"I shouldn't explain it, I think it's better if you hear it yourself.. Lady Kanroji, You especially." Aoi said. She took no time in turning around and speed walking down the hallway, Head motioning the two to follow her down the passage.

The two followed along with her down the butterfly mansions hallways, Their footsteps echoing out as it hit against the polished wood. Pristine white walls and mahogany doors passed them by as they went, But they were focused on following the girl in front of them.

Shinobu wondered what could've gotten into Aoi for her to act like this, All while Mitsuri was confused on why her especially needed to be there.

It wasn't long until they reached a certain door at the end of a hallway, It was cracked open only slightly letting the light from inside the room flood into the passage.

Aoi didn't hesitate to push the door open and step inside. Mitsuri and Shinobu following after as the room came into view.

It was a single bedroom, One usually used to care for patients in critical condition. It was decorated with a single bed in the middle, Two nightstands at the side and a closet. The source of light being a tall window to the side of the bedding, Letting a single warm ray shine down onto the patient on the bed.

Laying down under the covers was a small girl. She was wrapped in bandages and her unruly blonde hair was a mess, She looked tired when her dark eyes peered up to meet the three who just entered the room.

"H.. Hey.." She stuttered out, Her throat hoarse.

A neuron connected in Shinobu's mind. She remembered who this was. Her name was Maika Heihachiro, She was one of the shrine-maidens at the Kakushi base. A few weeks ago she was found passed out under a bunch of rubble, Right next to where [F/N]'s pool of blood was.

She wasn't able to be questioned on what happened however. Maika had suffered several injuries including severe blood loss, A deep cut on her back and bad frostbite. She had to be put into a medically induced coma to let her body heal.

Though she had awoken now, Conscious and sound of mind by the looks of it.

Shinobu quickly brushed past Aoi and Mitsuri, Speed walking over to the girls smile. Façade brought back on.

"Hello there! Are you doing alright? You've been asleep for quite some time!" Shinobu exclaimed, Looking down at her with a sugar sweet smile.

"I.. I'm fine.." Maika coughed. Shinobu quickly reached over to the wooden nightstand beside her and grabbed the pitcher of water.

She handed to the girl who gratefully accepted the refreshment. Mitsuri moved over to the other side of the bed to look down at the girl. Her expression still hurt by her mourning but curiosity danced along her features anyways as she looked at her.

"Mitsuri-chan.. This is Heihachiro-chan! She was one of the shrine-maidens back at the Kakushi base" Shinobu started.

"I.. I see." Mitsuri responded solemnly.

"That's not all, But you were also there when Fujimori was killed and eaten, Yes?" Shinobu asked, Turning back around to face Maika with an expectant look on her face.

Mitsuri's eyes widened in shock, Surprise coursing through her bloodstream as she looked down at Maika with wide eyes. A sudden hope rising inside her, Circling in her chest.

Maika paused, Then shook her head.

"N-No.."

Mitsuri's face fell, Her thou-

"T-That's not what happened..!" Maika exclaimed however instantly broke out into another coughing fit, Body spasming and her hand covering her mouth.

Mitsuri's brows knitted together, The words coming out of Maika didn't make sense. Not what happened.. What.. What does that mean.

Mitsuri came closer, Her hand reaching out going to grip Maika's free one with a reassuring hold. Mitsuri's fingers entwined with hers as she looked down on her.

"What do you mean..?" Mitsuri whispered. Eyes not taken off Maika for a second.

Maika's coughing fit died down, Her body laid peacefully on the bed.

"[F/N]-sama.. Fujimori-san.. T-They're the same person!" She explained.

Shinobu shook her head.

"Yes.. We're aware. But, Do you mind telling us what you mean by 'that's not what it happened'?" She asked softly.

Maika paused for a second, The sunlight from the window rested down on her face. Pale skin glowing in the luminescence as she spoke.

"[F/N]-sama.. She.. It's hard to remember, It's all fuzzy in my mind but.. She.. She wasn't eaten.." Maika explained, Eyes clenching shut. A headache forming in her frontal lobe as she spoke.

Both Mitsuri and Shinobu looked at each other. A shared stare that meant disbelief, Confusion and sheer bafflement. Maika didn't stop explaining as she squeezed Mitsuri's hand, Bringing her back into the conversation.

"What.. What do you mean [F/N] wasn't eaten?" Mitsuri asked, Levelling herself closer to Maika. Eyes wide as she looked at her, Confusion played all over her face.

"S-She wasn't eaten.. No.. S-She.. She was taken.. I.. The demon that tried to kill her just.. He just stopped.. Picked her up and.. and walked away.." Maika said. "It's all so fuzzy.. I.. I'm having a hard time remembering..

Mitsuri and Maika's eyes locked. Mitsuri looked at her, A sudden shine sparking up inside her like a lighter grew bright in her eyes. It was one she hadn't had in weeks, It was the glimmer of hope.

"I-It's fine.. But what.. What are you saying?" Mitsuri asked, Her voice was so small yet her face held such light to it.

"I-If I am right.. If I am remembering correctly.." Maika's eyes shared that same spark, That same light swirling around in her eyes.

"[F/N]-sama is alive."

Next Chapter

[divinemare]

Req: Fourth Wing Violet x Xaden

Song: Dangerous Hands by Austin Giorgio

Maybe an early training session on the mat that turns a little spicy ;)

i cant believe i slept on this request for so long bcos i hadn’t seen it, I LOVED THE SONG AND WRITING THIS. i’m so sorry this took me this long to see but i hope you enjoy this. it’s short, not extra mega spicy, but i honestly liked it.

thank you so much for the req and lemme know what u think!

Dangerous Hands

FOURTH WING ONE SHOTS: Xaden x Violet

summary: just xaden being a horny for violet, honestly

tw: a lil bit of spice

Light filtered through my windows, warning that I had officially lost any chance of rest whatsoever. Only now, after hours in the dark contemplating how fucked up I was, did I come to feel the exhaustion of a night without sleep.

As I slowly rose from my bed, stretching my muscles and massaging my neck in search of false relief for my aching muscles, the pressure in my chest that hadn't left me all night increased in intensity to the point where I felt a fire burning inside me for every memory that came back to me.

Her mouth; so close to mine, her legs; spread wide as I lay on top of her, her chest; rising and falling with such acceleration as sweat drenched her body, and her hands; her fucking hands, all over me like chains that wanted to plunge me into the depths of hell.

Who knew, that a woman who looks so innocent could have such dangerous hands. I craved her in the morning like a mad man, I craved her in the night like a starving man, I craved her every fucking hour of every fucking day like a desperate man.

There was no hour, no minute, not even a second, when I wasn't cursing myself for not being able to stop thinking about what Violet's hands could do to my body. To my whole body.

Including that stupid piece that kept pressing on my trousers with the memory of her chest pressed to mine as her dagger, the one I'd custom made for her, was pressed into my neck last night.

Her heartbeat matched mine as her open lips made way for my mind to imagine scenarios where, that same mouth, was open wrapped around my dick.

I had no fucking idea how I was going to get on with my day, to see her, and not think of all the things I wanted to do to her when she was underneath me on the floor last night.

"You can do better than that," I said to Violet as I sent another of her daggers flying away.

Violet rolled her eyes in irritation, causing that tick in my chest to rise in intensity and a smile to pull my lips sideways.

"Shut up," her attack came fast and accurate, and I couldn't help the small low chuckle as I dodged her attacks and launched my own.

From one moment to the next, Violet had me on the ground, a moment's distraction was all it took for her to find my weak spot and exploit it, just as I taught her. But here it turns out, my weak spot, was the whole woman who was now on top of me. The very peace in all my war.

"You’re not laughing so much now, huh," she said between quickened breaths as she carefully placed her knee on my dick.

"I taught you well, Sorrengail," I smiled sideways, hiding that burning desire to wrench the smile from her face with my lips on hers.

Damn, I was so hot, I wondered if Tairn and Sgaeyl were doing their thing. Or if what I was feeling for Violet was simply getting out of hand.

"But I must do a little better," my hand flew to her throat and, without pressing too hard, I rolled her on her side to position myself on top of her, her throat still under my hand.

There were lines I still didn't know if I was crossing with her, thoughts that kept me awake at night, my secrets haunting the infinite possibilities of fucking all this up. But as long as I held her like this, close to me, with my body pressed into hers and my heart beating to the same rhythm, it all stopped mattering.

Everything except the absurd desire that invaded me to kiss her, to touch her, to make sure that everything in her was mine, and everything in me was hers.

Then a dagger was pressed to my throat, and my dick pulse it hurt.

"Fuck, Violet," I closed my eyes at the feeling of the cold dagger, unable to look into her eyes that were silently begging me to tear her apart.

"What?" She asked, her chest rising and falling with the intensity of the workout we were in, but her eyes detonating a mischief that added fuel to my fire. "Am I doing it too good?"

"Too fucking good," with the hand I still held on her neck I began to make circles with my thumb on her throat, moving down her chest until I reached her breasts.

Her back arched into me, as if asking me to touch her, not to stop, so I did, I squeezed her breast and made her sigh, gasp with the same desire that was already pressing in my trousers so hard I felt like I was going to explode. The dagger in her hands fell the moment I slipped my hand under her shirt and started playing with her already hard nipple.

Her hands went to my ass, squeezing it and pulling my hips closer to hers, my dick to her own pants.

A soft moan at the contact caused me to crash my mouth against hers to silence the sound of pleasure.

"We don't want to make too much noise, now we, Violence, or they're going to know we're not exactly training before I can make you explode with real pleasure."

"You're way too confident," she taunted, but the flash of pleasure and hunger in her eyes gave away how aware she was of all the ways I could make her come on this mat.

"Oh, and I'm about to show you just how much," as I brought my lips to her ear to murmur the words, I made sure to press my erection against hers and rub until her gasps flooded my chest with burning desire.

Just as my sanity was lost in her sounds, her dangerous hands crept upon my body, her touch leaving traces like a feather of flames.

[lissrissye]

𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔶’𝔯𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔭𝔞𝔦 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔄𝔶𝔞𝔫𝔬… 🔪💗

ੈ✩‧₊˚ synopsis : it’s valentine’s Day… you gathered all your courage, and with that, you decided that you will confess to them, and ask them to be your valentine!!~ however… there was someone else with him … if he can’t be yours, then nobody should… they can’t have him.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ content warning : mentions of blood, slaughter, corpses, extreme violence, gore, jealously, etc. please click off if you feel uncomfortable !

ੈ✩‧₊˚ including : hyoma chigiri, seishiro nagi, yoichi isagi, and meguru bachira !

ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre : horror !

ੈ✩‧₊˚ notes : be aware, I don’t watch Bluelock, I just know some of it because of my friends. so i apologize if their personalities are off, I’m googling them— also, again, the context below may be very triggering, so PLEASE click off if you feel uncomfortable. if my post it to much, please tel me and i will refrain from writing violence.

ちぎり ⚽️ ʜʏᴏᴍᴀ ᴄʜɪɢɪʀɪ ⚽️ ひょうま

You had a bouquet of roses with an envelope in between the cherry red flowers, and a box of chocolate. It was Valentine’s Day, the day for love … the day for couples … the day for confessions. Just thinking about Chigiri makes your mind run wild. Anything could happen!~

You sprinted down the halls, peeking the corner just to see another girl blushing while handing Chigiri some flowers. Your heart sunk… Chigiri was yours, and yours only! … Nobody else can have him … you had his favorite flowers, not her … the worst part? Chigiri looked interested … she can’t have him ! Never, never, never, never, never …

You waited for the girl to then the corner, asking as if you were just walking by. Purposely, you bump into her, making her fall backwards. In order ego give her a false sense of trust, you help her up with a kind smile. But really? You wanted to twist her arm right then and there … though, not in front of Chigiri, then he’d think you’re a monster … you were only watching over him, it’s not even anything bad ! Now, is it ?…

The girl thanked you with gentle and sweet eyes … she was too delicate. Was that why Chigiri liked her? You hate it, but it’s good to know. The bell soon rang, and so it meant dismissal time. However, you quickly caught up to the girl, telling her that she had a bit of period blood on her skirt. This was completely false. You walked her to the bathroom. A few other students in there just left as they were fixing their hair or makeup. You closed the door, leading her to one of the stalls and grabbing a piece of tissue, handing it to her. When she was looking for any blood on her skirt… you pressed her against the stall door, banging he head on the door repeatedly until she blacked out and bled before stuffing her head in the toilet. You quickly fled the scene … Chigiri was yours, you would never let anyone take him away from you … he was the one that made you see colors in this cruel world, you wouldn’t leave him …

Your plan succeeded. The student was eliminated, you weren’t questioned, and police closed the case without suspecting you as the murderer ….

凪清 ⚽️ ꜱᴇɪꜱʜɪʀᴏ ɴᴀɢɪ ⚽️ 史郎

You’ve been obsessing over Seishiro for a very long time now. Ever since he helped you up, he brightened your entire world … he may only be one man, though, he was the only reason why your heart started beating again. You couldn’t see it, but you obsession just increased more and more. You dedicated your room to him and write about him in your journal everyday.

It was Valentine’s Day … you bought Seishiro a small bottle of cologne, a box of chocolate, and a teddy bear. Everything was perfect !! Except for one thing … Seishiro had a lover. Of course, you saw the two holding hands with Seishiro gifting his girlfriend a box of chocolate, a bouquet of roses, and matching shirts … that should’ve been you! You scowled, dropping the items and pulling on your hair. You were like a volcano about to explode … you had to get rid of her … now. And you knew exactly how.

It was the end of class, meaning it was lunch time. Seishiro’s girlfriend was still packing her things while Seishiro waited at a cafeteria table. You left the class with everyone else, but once the halls were clear and everyone was in the cafeteria, you took another door inside the classroom. You pulled out a small dagger and hid it behind your back. —“Hey, h/n! Do you need help with that?” You asked softly, and h/n nodded in response. You didn’t want to just catch her off guard since she’d scream. She was thanking you until …

You stabbed her in the back, with no remorse. With a crazed look your face, you slashed her neck, leaving a huge, bleeding cut. You then quickly shoved her corpse in a locked as well as her backpack and things, shutting it quietly before dropping the knife, making sure you don’t leave you fingerprints on it as you used your sleeve. She was finally eliminated, it gave you satisfaction and satisfaction only … you finally had a chance ! All you had to do now was comfort Seishiro who was obviously completely devastated after the situation was announced on the speakers. You reassured him and stayed by his side, the two of you growing closer to eachother.

Your mission was accomplished. The police didn’t suspect you as the killer, and suspected the last student that left the class as the murderer instead …

伊佐 ⚽️ ʏᴏɪᴄʜɪ ɪꜱᴀɢɪ ⚽️ 木洋

You woke up almost immediately before your alarm even went off. You double-checked your calendar … it was indeed the day for love, Valentine’s Day! Nothing and nobody else mattered, just Isagi … you pictured the two of you guys holding hands together under a cherry blossom tree, daydreaming for a few moments before quickly getting ready for school.

You grabbed the items you planned to give to Isagi … a stuffed animal, his favorite animal, a book of his favorite author, and a box of chocolates. Basic, though you knew he was going to love it ! It was just that he was quite pipular, so of course, many other female students surrounded him, wanting to be his Valentine …. Of course. You observed the group of ladies surrounding Isagi, writing each of their names on a piece of paper…

After writing all the female’s names, you proceeded wrote a small letter for each student. It was a letter to threaten and scare them off … luckily, Isagi didn’t choose anyone for his valentines yet. You slid all the letters into the girl’s lockers, and one in your own so you wouldn’t be suspected as someone behind all this. This was during lunch time when the halls were empty… after all, if anyone went in you and Isagi’s way, you will not hesitate to resort to violence …

When lunch finally ended and everyone went to the locker to grab their books, every female that had surrounded Isagi from earlier had gasped as your letter fell on them as soon as they opened their locker. You made it seemed as if you got the same letter and acted surprised. Everyone looked around …

After school hwieved, you went to Isagi to ask if he could be your valentine shyly, staring at the ground while shifting you weight from one side to another. He … accepted ! You couldn’t be happier. Anyone who overheard didn’t suspect a thing either since they saw you get a letter as well, so they just thought you were brave…

めぐる ⚽️ ᴍᴇɢᴜʀᴜ ʙᴀᴄʜɪʀᴀ ⚽️ バチラ

You arrived at school first before anyone else. Why? Because today was Valentine’s Day, and you had promised yourself to ask Bachira to be your valentine today … you couldn’t let anyone steal him, now could you ? As soon as the other students, you immediately xmained the crowd insanely, looking for the one you obsessed oh so much over … he was the purpose of your life, you were convinced the two of you were just meant to be, that the two of you were soulmates.

Finally! You spotted Bachira, then you see the school’s cheerleader flirting with him, shaking her damn rear in his face. What angered you the most? Bachira, being the eccentric guy he is, flirted back with the cheerleader … oh how you just wanted to push her to the ground and punch her face … you were going to do something with her, and it wasn’t going to be good.

You had chemistry with that same cheerleader. Before class, you poured some gasoline in the cheerleader’s beaker. You knew the potions you guys would use today would create an explosion, so you put gas in hopes it would catch that bratty cheerleader on fire. You weren’t going to have mercy to her or anyone who would get in your way of having Bachita.

Once it was chemistry, the teacher instructed everyone to pour the clear liquid on the desk inside the beaker, so that’s what everyone did. You heard a scream of distress and held back a sinister smirk while turning your head to the cheerleader who was on fire, a student quickly putting in the flames with the emergency extinguisher. Everyone’s faces froze in horror.

As for the investigation, the police failed to catch the murderer, you. You had smashed the cameras so there was no evidence. All fingers were then pointed on the teacher, as he was the only one in the classroom as day …

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 하이에나/Hyena.

Okay, I'm assuming I just convinced a lot of you by that poster alone. But just in case, here's a trailer along the same lines!

Hyena is a 2020 Korean drama about two lawyers who get into a relationship under false pretenses, end the relationship, and then still have to deal with one another in their professional lives, while also uncovering massive corruption in the halls of jurisprudence.

This is absolutely one of those shows where, if this is the kind of thing you like, this is a strong example of that kind of thing. You know the beats it's going to hit and the turns it's going to twist, so you're just here to watch the rest unfold. It's not really a courtroom drama; while there are court scenes, they're few and far-between. Most of it is about their lives outside of court: preparing for cases, negotiating power dynamics, and working for some shady-ass rich people alongside a cast of delightful supporting characters.

It's no great work of art, but it's a lot of fun, and it's surprisingly more complicated than it appears at first blush. It's also not a huge commitment, as shows go -- just your standard Korean block of sixteen hour-long episodes -- so here's a shortish set of five reasons I think you should give this a trial (get it? trial?) run.

1. Just fuck that pretty boy up

This show knows that women want one thing, and one thing only: Ju Jihoon in mild to moderate distress.

I love this tall drink of water in everything I've seen him in (just wait until the day I finish my rec for Kingdom!), and this is no exception. I imagine that the entire pitch for this show was, what if we put Ju Jihoon in sharp, well-tailored suits and have him menaced by a bunch of beautiful professional women 10-25 years older than he is? And the Netflix executives, in a startling moment of common sense, greenlit the heck out of that.

His character, Yoon Heejae, is a hotshot lawyer from a family of hotshot lawyers and judges who works for a hotshot law firm. He embodies that certain kind of cocky, toxic masculinity that makes you idly fantasize about getting his tie caught in the shredder so it strangles him. Over the course of the show, you get to see him taken down a peg time and again until he learns to be submissive to the right people, instead of to the wrong ones. And he's much, much happier that way! So yeah, if you enjoy seeing a beautiful man get that smug smile metaphorically and literally slapped right off his handsome mug, Hyena has you covered.

I had to replay the champagne scene like ten times, fuck. No, I'm not going to tell you what I mean by that. Watch the show!

2. The titular Hyena

The major disappointment I had with this show is that it did not bring up the one -- one! -- thing everybody knows about hyenas, which is that a lot of people think the females have penises. Because oh boy, Jung Geumja has the biggest dick in the show by a mile.

A lot of times when people say a female character is a disaster, they mean, tee hee, she spilled her coffee and accidentally said something she shouldn't have! Bitch, Jung Geumja said that shit on purpose.

She's an attorney who's willing to adopt some hella unethical tactics for her clients. She's got her goals, but good luck getting her to reveal what they are -- and good luck to her when it comes to achieving them, considering that she's a complete nobody who went to law school much later in life than all the other high-powered attorneys in the show did. That's okay, though! What she lacks in experience, she makes up for in balls-to-the-wall fearlessness.

I love how intentionally bad her aesthetic is. They give her awkward outfits and the worst possible haircut, to say nothing of her hideous cell phone necklace/lanyard/thing. She adopts a more professional demeanor partway through, but the second you let her off the respectability leash, the track suits and big clunky sneakers are back. The couple times she goes real femme, she looks like she's in bad drag. It's ugly-delicious.

Her actor, Kim Hyesoo, is a beautiful woman who looks very good in evening gowns and low-cut blouses. This show intentionally steers her hard in the other direction. It's a kind of protective coloration, Jung Geumja's way of telling all the other predators not to fuck with her, or she will fuck right back.

She's scrappy as hell, despite not actually being a physical fighter -- in fact, she gets the shit beat out of her a couple times. You don't get a whole lot of media where the female lead gets her face kicked in good and proper, or if you do, it's painted as a tragic, vulnerable moment. Jung Geumja slaps on a bandaid and gets right back out to the club the following night.

Her superpower is basically that she has no shame. You think ambulance-chasers are bad? She takes it to the next level.

You really don't see a lot of female characters like this! Sure, you get the Boss Bitch archetype in a lot of legal dramas, but she's always composed and dignified. Jung Geumja has no dignity. She's a sloppy bitch who makes pretty much no effort to leverage her feminine wiles in her day-to-day life (even though the show makes a point that there are men who'd be receptive to it if she did!). She's a nasty top who clearly loves to horrify dignified, presentable people with her yakuza lounge aesthetic.

You could maybe accuse Jung Geumja of being a Mary Sue, but she's, like, a middle-aged woman's Mary Sue. If your teen girl fantasies are all about how you're the most beautiful girl at prom and all the boys like you and you become independently wealthy at your dream job as an interior designer, then your middle-aged fantasies have become how you can look super-hot wearing whatever the fuck you want and still get respected by your colleagues for your extreme competency in your profession and also have handsome men with good jobs beating down your door no matter how much your hair looks like you scalped Paul McCartney c. 1964.

She's absolutely one of those characters where I'd hate her if I had to deal with her myself, but because she's fictional and can't hurt me, I support all her wrongs.

3. Everybody else!

As is the case with good legal dramas, the main lawyers are not the only lawyers! Instead, Hyena has a wonderful cast of supporting characters who become part of the legal eagle team.

They’re exactly the kind of charismatic background weirdos I’ve come to expect from Korean dramas. You’ve got the whole batch: the potential love rival, the secondary romance couple, the supportive nonthreatening bestie, the workplace misfits who are both extemely competent and completely underappreciated at their jobs, and the childhood-friend-turned-cop I couldn't find good promo pictures of for reasons prrrrrobably related to the actor's DUI arrest.

No matter how enjoyable a main romance is (and it is! see point 5!), it cannot sustain a whole sixteen-hour drama on its own. You need to mix it up and give your primary pair other party members to bounce off of! Hyena pulls together a good group of characters that are wacky enough to be entertaining, but (mostly) not so wacky you have to suspend your disbelief about how they got to where they are in life.

And they’ve also all got some interesting relationships to masculinity and/or femininity, which is pretty par for the course with how the show clearly enjoys…

4. Getting gender all up in your business

While it's not an overt, in-your-face theme, the status of women in Korean society is definitely at play in this story. The realm of law, politics, and buisness as depicted here is absolutely a man's world, where few women are allowed, and only in a very limited number of roles. Of course there are always wives/girlfriends and secretaries doing all the helper grunt work, but a token handful of ladies can be allowed into actual ranks of power ... sort of. They'll always be second best to their male peers and relatives, of course, but doesn't that gender diversity look nice in the company's annual report!

As mentioned earlier, Yoon Heejae starts out as a good ol' boy from a long line of good ol' boys, dick-measuring with the rest of them and shooting straight for the top. It's only when he's blindsided by soft power that he starts to re-evaluate what he's gotten himself into. Maybe being a good son is actually a racket! Maybe these squads of tie-wearing ass-kissers aren't actually that fun to be around at all! Maybe he's actually much better-suited to playing on the girls' team.

Meanwhile, Jung Geumja's "ruffian from the wrong side of the tracks" role is such a man's role, but she's definitely a woman inhabiting it. Hell, half the stuff she gets away with, she does because everyone's just so shocked to encounter a woman doing and saying these things. So she does weaponize gender expectations - just not in the way you might expect a woman in a romance-centered drama to.

In the aforementioned support squad, the male attorneys are all gender failures in one way or another, which is why they haven't advanced in their jobs the way their colleagues have. They cannot perform hard-drinking, ethics-ignoring, 90-hour-workweek masculinity to the standards of the high-powered suits who run their law firm. It's only Jung Geumja who, given the choice to assemble her own crew, can see that they have immense value beyond the very gendered expectations of their profession.

Meanwhile, Boon Hyunah, the only female attorney on their team, is great at both representing and subverting that Exceptional Woman femininity. I was cautious at first, because she was clearly introduced in a way that made her seem like she was going to wind up being the evil popular girl/rival bitch whose entire job was to prove by contrast that Jung Geumja is Not Like The Other Girls. Not so! They actually wind up good friends and trusted colleagues. Female solidarity is so much more fun than contrived romcom catfighting!

Maybe my favorite character in the whole show, though, is the littlest gender-nonconforming angel, professional soft butch Lee Jieun: Jung Geumja's eternally beleaguered secretary, sidekick, gofer, co-conspirator, caretaker, and only friend.

She's clearly taken her haircut notes from Jung Geumja, but instead of going the track suit route, she's dedicated herself to the tweed lifestyle. And I love that nobody ever tries to give her a makeover or make her feel bad for not being femme! She makes friends with the other, much girlier secretaries, who seem to welcome her into their group with no problems. She finishes the show as frumpy as she was when she started.

I was prepped for the drama to give her a male love interest to defuse her obvious lesbian vibes, but it does not! She does not even, to my recollection, express desire about anyone. She oohs and ahhs over flowers and other gestures of romantic interest that happen to other people, but not in a particularly jealous way. She ships Yoon Heejae and Jung Geumja, and that's what matters to her.

The entire reason I found this show in the first place is that it has a "sismance" tag on MyDramaList, presumably for the relationship between Jung Geumja and Lee Jieun. Their relationship is wonderful, but it's way more sis than 'mance. They're more like two sisters with a huge age gap, where the dweeby younger sister has dedicated herself to doing anything her cool older sister wants her to do, and the cool older sister has decided that having a minion is worth putting up with having to wrangle a dweeby younger sister.

This show is also very female-gazey. Not only does it gleefully ogle Yoon Heejae's long-legged frame pretty much every chance it gets, but it makes Jung Geumja gross-hot in a way that only a lesbian could love. And that makes the fact that she has not one but two handsome men fighting over her even better! This is a world where our gorgeous male lead has a choice between a conventionally attractive, professionally dressed, charming, dignified woman in her early twenties, and a fifty-year-old human tornado with a foul mouth and a bad haircut, and he goes straight for that cougar without even blinking. He wants her to step on him so hard.

And speaking of:

5. Law, Partners

This is a romance worth being into.

Sure, they're both real hot (at least, by my bisexual lesbian standards), but we all know by now that being hot separately doesn't always guarantee being hot together. Fortunately for this show, they very much are.

What makes this pairing so interesting is that this is a relationship between equals. They start out with huge power mismatches both ways, since he's socially her superior, while she's lying to him real hard. When they're finally at a point where they're on even footing, it's so good, especially since she's clearly on a trajectory to emerge as the senior partner in this relationship. They’re such a great team, in fact, that the kissy part of their dynamic becomes secondary by the end. Yeah, sure, they like one another -- but more importantly, they can finish one another’s closing arguments. When you're a middle-aged Mary Sue, that right there is some good fucking romance.

If you read my other rec posts, you know I'm very picky about my het. This is good het. Maybe not great het, but still very good. Solid 8/10. Their chemistry is strong. I can absolutely imagine her strap-on collection. He's like a foot taller, but we still know who's going down.

Into it?

Netflix made this one, so Netflix is where you're going to find it. This does mean, annoyingly, that a lot of the onscreen text doesn't get translated, and none of the English lines get captioned, both of which are incredibly bad practices. Come on, Netflix, you've got eleventy bajillion dollars, you can do better.

...Also, am I wrong about people knowing that other people think female hyenas have penises? Is this knowledge what I deserve for spending too much time studying the ancient world? Dammit.

Kick his ass, baby; I'll hold your track suit.

[evans23]

RICKMAS 2024 - DAY 12 - MISSING MIRTH

Pairing : Hans Gruber x Reader OC

Summary : She misses him. She has no more joy in her life. Except for him. Their little son. But maybe Christmas miracle exists after all.  

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Angst. Mention of death. Depression. Mention of suicide.

A/N : Enjoy dear reader 😁

This is Part II of FALLING

Also read on AO3 - Wattpad

A card had arrived in September. A card with nothing on it. A card from Germany. Your heart had skipped several beats. You only knew two people in Germany: Hans and his brother.

Hans had died following the attack on the Nakatomi Tower. This simple thought brought tears to your eyes that had never lost their veil of sadness since that cursed day. You had always had doubts about who Hans was and that night, when in the house you shared in the outskirts of London you recognized him on television, your suspicions were confirmed. At the time, you did not know the exact nature of what he did for a living. Hans and you had a tacit agreement: you did not ask questions. Never.

You had tried, of course, but each time you had done it was the only time you had seen him get angry with you and Hans' anger was impressive. You had quickly stopped questioning him, being angry with him was something you didn't like to experience even if later in the night, to make up for it, Hans offered you your best sex.

His death had taken a toll on you. You were still tired, your eyes were surrounded by black bags and your smile no longer reached your gaze. The spark of life that had captivated Hans two years before had gone out.

If you continued to hold on day after day, it was for your son, a surprise gift from Hans, his only inheritance. Of course, no one could know who the father was and your family was very angry with you for having made a baby all by yourself. So you received very little help from them. Fortunately, Hans had thought of everything and his house in London as well as his English and Italian bank account had been put in your name.

Indeed, when he died, a lawyer came to find you accompanied by Simon, Hans' big brother. The two men had explained to you that Hans had prepared everything in case one day he didn't have to come back so that you wouldn't be left with nothing. The man was cunning and intelligent. He had many bank accounts in different parts of the world as well as many properties, all under false identities.

In order to have the full acquisition of the money and the house, you had to sign papers that ensured your silence. As if you would have been shouted from the rooftops that you had been the mistress of one of the most infamous terrorists ?

It was only a month later that you had discovered that you were pregnant. It was a surprise as you had always used contraception, but when the doctor had asked you if you wanted to keep the child or not, you knew that you could never be separated from this little being that was growing inside you. It was a piece of you and Hans, of the love that you had shared. That was all you had left of him.

Your son had celebrated his first birthday in July. It had been a sunny day that you had spent in Kensington Park, where it all began. You had then eaten cake for dinner and drank chocolate milkshakes until your stomach hurt. It had been a good day. One of the few where you had not cried thinking about his father.

Hans haunted your thoughts day and night. You had never realized how alone you were until you had him in your life. Of course, you had not been alone for long as eight months later the fruit of your love came into the world.

Your pregnancy had not been easy, between the incessant nausea, the swollen legs and the lack of support from your loved ones. But to your greatest surprise, one fine morning, you had found Simon on your doorstep. He had heard the good news, though he had refused to tell you how he had done it.

He had stayed by your side until your nephew was born, and then, as his brother knew how to do, he had disappeared without leaving you any news. You didn't even know where to find him, but it didn't matter, he knew where to find you.

So when the card had arrived, you had assumed it was from Simon. Did he want to meet you in Germany ?

There was no way you were traveling with such a young child. If Simon wanted to talk to you, he would have to come himself. Besides, you had started working part-time at a small local bakery and you didn't feel like asking for time off yet. Not that you needed to work, not with what Hans had left you, but it allowed you to get out of the house and take your mind off things for a short while. Meanwhile, your son was in daycare and you knew it was for the best because he was socializing while you were learning not to cling to him like a lifeline. This child couldn't grow up with your traumas.

However, two more cards had arrived inSeptember, four in October and eight in November. Finally, on December 13th, a final card had arrived, a funny Christmas card with a three-dimensional reindeer and with only one word written on it: Magdeburg.

In view of Simon's insistence, you had decided on a whim to pack up your and your son's things and had driven to the station where you had taken the train to Cologne. The five hours of train travel had passed like nothing. Your son had slept the entire journey to your great relief while you had tried, in vain, to immerse yourself in a book. Indeed, your mind had not stopped drifting to Hans. Hans, your tender lover who had taught you to love and to be loved.

You also wondered what his brother could possibly have to say to you to insist so much. Why couldn't he come? Was he in trouble? You didn't want to be mixed up in the dangerous world to which he belonged. You didn't want your son to be in danger because of his father and uncle's inheritance.

In Cologne, you had rented a car and driven to Magdeburg, but once there, you didn't know what to do, who to look for, where to go. You didn't have to wait long. You were in front of the Kriegerdenkmal with your son who needed to stretch his legs when your phone rang. A German number.

"Hello ?" you said carefully.

"You took your time [Y/N]," Simon's voice rang out.

"What do you want ? I'm traveling with a baby," you answered curtly.

Simon just chuckled.

"You have a room reserved at a small inn in the city under the name of Sarah Fears. You'll spend the night there," he ordered you.

"I'm afraid the name on my passport isn't Sarah Fears," you scoffed.

"It's a code name. The receptionist is one of my men. He'll give you new papers. Tomorrow, he'll go and bring back the car you rented while another one will be waiting for you. The GPS will already be programmed, you'll just have to follow the directions."

You didn't have time to say anything before he had already hung up. A minute later, your phone rang, a message from Simon with an address, that of the hostel you assumed.

The hostel, which reeked of Christmas, was stuck between two old dilapidated houses. Nothing that inspired confidence. However, you obeyed Simon and as expected, a man gave you new identity papers for you and your child as well as money.

"I need the car keys and your phone," he ordered you bluntly.

You hesitated for a second, asking him what all this was about, but he refused to answer, stating that he was following Simon's orders and that he didn't have to answer your questions. Frustrated, you handed him your keys and phone, in exchange for which he gave you a new one.

"Don't turn it on until you get permission from the boss," he said before leading you to your room.

You didn't like it much, but there wasn't much you could do. The room was small and musty, yet you didn't have a better option. You were in a foreign country in the middle of nowhere. You didn't speak German and you didn't have a cell phone anymore. Well, you did, you had a brand new, state-of-the-art one, but you weren't allowed to turn it on. You didn't know why, but something told you that it was better to listen to what you were told. You were in dangerous waters. The price to pay for having loved Hans, you thought bitterly.

The night was long, your son refusing to sleep and crying until exhaustion. He was now asleep in the back while you struggled to keep your eyes open. The GPS had indicated Liepzig. You didn't even know this name before this morning, but that was where you were going now.

You stopped in front of an old abandoned building. It was your destination apparently. Before leaving, the receptionist of the hostel had given you an envelope and told you not to open it until you arrived. So you opened it, eager to know what was inside. Another Christmas card, with a snowman with a smile more scary than friendly was inside. On the back were instructions. You had to leave the keys in the ignition, take your son and all your belongings, put the phone in the glove compartment as well as your old passport.

Worried, you wondered if you and your child were in danger. Did anyone know that Hans had a child? Was that why Simon was taking so many precautions ? Adrenaline, mixed with fear, invaded your body and you felt bile rise to your mouth. You took a sip of water, then you followed the instructions to the letter. In the glove compartment, there was another card, this one illustrated with a Santa Claus. On the back, Simon ordered you to enter the building.

You entered cautiously, holding your son tightly in your arms. Anxious, you wondered what you would do if this was all a trap. You didn't know how to fight and you didn't even have a knife on you, although you probably wouldn't have known how to use it other than to cut your hand. However, you were certain of one thing: Simon would not put his nephew in danger.

You waited for about twenty minutes inside the old building. You heard someone drive away mixed with the sounds of the city. After twenty long and interminable minutes, Simon came in.

"Simon," you said in a breath, "why all the mystery ?"

He didn't answer, just walked briskly towards you to grab his nephew.

"There's the little prince," he said with a smile.

Your son watched him, intrigued. After all, he had only met him once, when he was born.

"Simon ?" you insisted.

"Hush ! You'll get the answers in due time. In the meantime, don't ask any questions."

His authoritative tone and his gaze that left no room for discussion reminded you of Hans. Hans that you saw every day in the hazel eyes of your son who had also inherited his hooked nose and his predatory smile.

"You're going to stay at my place until the 24th."

"What ? No !" you cried.

You told him that you couldn't stay that long, that you had your life in London and your job.

"A job ?" Simon mocked, "my brother made sure you would never have to work again in your entire life, that you had money to do what you wanted, your art school if you wanted and you have fun playing the baker ?!"

His mocking tone didn't please you, but he didn't give you time to answer him as he was already heading towards the exit, your son still in his arms. Understanding that you had no other choice, you followed him, carrying your bags at arm's length.

"Why until the 24th ?" you asked as you settled into the passenger seat.

"You ask a lot of questions. Hans was right about that," he replied playfully.

"And you never answer my questions. Like him," you retorted sharply, triggering a small laugh from the man.

Simon's villa was every bit as good as the one Hans had left you. It was a huge building, lit by huge windows and whose garden was adorned with a swimming pool and a jacuzzi. Everything exuded luxury from the walls to the ceiling to the furniture that decorated each room and that must have been worth more than a month's salary that you earned when you worked as a souvenir saleswoman.

Simon showed you the room that you would share with your son until the following week. And time passed slowly. Very slowly. Simon was rarely at home, but men stood guard all around the house that you were not allowed to leave under any circumstances, which only fuelled your anxiety. He refused to tell you if you were under threat and you had stopped insisting, tired of being confronted with a wall of silence. But finally, the 24th arrived.

"What a sad Christmas it's going to be," you said to no one but yourself as you watched your son play on Simon's out-of-control carpet, a carpet on which he had spilled your coffee a few hours before to your great satisfaction as you were so annoyed by him.

"Is that so ?" Simon's voice made you jump.

You shrugged without even turning to him.

"I think it's going to be the best Christmas of your lives for both of you," he said laughing.

You finally deigned to look at him. The man looked nothing like Hans physically. He had dark eyes, salt and pepper hair and a nose that was nothing distinctive. On the other hand, he had the same charisma and the same proud and confident posture as his brother.

"I have a gift for you," he added with a playful smile.

"Explanations, I hope," you replied sarcastically.

He chuckled at your cheekiness but he didn't say anything else. Instead, he asked you to take the cell phone that you still weren't allowed to turn on, the things that were particularly important to you, and leave everything else behind.

"Simon," you whispered as he prepared to leave the room, "I understand that you can't tell me anything but... are my parents in danger ? If men are after me, they could hurt my parents," you explained, genuinely worried.

His face softened when he assured you that you didn't have to worry about them and that if you wanted to contact them, there would surely be a way to find a solution later. For the moment, he thought you were on vacation in France with a friend and he received news from you regularly. Or at least he thought that it was you who sent them messages every day when it was actually Simon.

You didn't try to find out more, knowing that it was useless and that you were safer that way. Instead, you did as he asked, gathering the few things that had belonged to Hans and that you carried everywhere with you to remind you, even if you didn't need them. You did the same with your child's things, Simon having told you that you didn't have to worry if you forgot anything because everything you needed would be provided to you in due time.

You were going to leave at night, so you had time to do what you wanted during the day, which was nothing. There wasn't much to do at Simon's place except snooze in front of the TV or read books. Except that the vast majority of his library was in German, much to your dismay. You had thought that a cultured man like him would have a wider selection of books in English or French. Your son was easier to entertain, everything fascinated him in his uncle's big house which was the perfect playground for a child looking for mischief to do with his expensive vases and his Persian rugs most of which now had stains of vomit or other undetermined fluids.

It was only at 11pm that Simon came home to pick you up. You felt a mixture of emotions ranging from fear to annoyance to anger. Yet another day without knowing what was happening in your life. A life over which you had no control since that December 13th. Yet another night where your child was not going to have a proper night, yet another night where your stomach was going to turn and turn, making you sick with worry.

"Believe me, you're going to thank me after tonight," Simon said in a cold voice when you had expressed your displeasure to him.

You snorted, doubting that it was true, yet, once again, you obeyed him not without grumbling, but that was the only difficulty you posed for his greatest relief. Your irritation amused him more than anything else, you were at the end of your tether, so it was easy to get angry and he often teased you on purpose just to see you transform into a little fury, eyes flashing and words as sharp as a blade. It was in those moments, when you came out of your torpor, that he saw what Hans had seen in you and that he understood why his brother had fallen in love with you so easily. If you had not belonged to his brother, he could have fallen in love too.

You rolled for half an hour under the indistinct babbling of your son that Simon maintained by answering imaginary questions, to the great pleasure of his nephew who was listening. You stopped in Schkeuditz. A town you knew all too well. It was where Hans, or at least a tombstone with Hans' name on it, was laid to rest.

"Simon, why are we here ?" you asked when he stopped in front of the cemetery.

The man didn't answer. Instead, he handed you a card. Another stupid Christmas card with reindeer dancing around a sleigh. On the back, coordinates. You arched an eyebrow as he laughed at your expense.

"These are the coordinates of Hans' grave. Go there. Stay there until someone comes to get you, then you'll follow his instructions as well as you've followed mine so far. Are we okay ?"

"No! No! Explain! I'm scared, I don't know what you're getting me into, but I'm not alone, there's a child here with me! Are we in danger? Simon, I need to know..."

"Hush !" he cut you off, "if I didn't trust the person who's coming to meet you, I wouldn't let you and my nephew get out of this car. I know what I'm doing. Don't be afraid, trust me," he said firmly.

You still weren't convinced and tears welled up in your eyes.

"Come on, come on, don't cry. Trust me. All these days spent here in Germany are part of the plan. But I'm not the one who's going to explain all that to you. I don't have time. Now, be a good girl, get out of this car, take your son and go to Hans' grave."

You nodded, swallowing back your tears, and complied. Before leaving the car, Simon had allowed you to finally turn on the cell phone. He told you that you couldn't turn it on before in case you tried to get in touch with your family.

"Why let me do it now ? I could call them right now," you told him defiantly.

"No, you won't. I trust you. You'll wait until you receive further instructions before using it," he told you seriously.

You were now using it to light your way through the tombstones. You finally reached Hans's, one of the only ones that wasn't decorated with flowers. You tried your best not to cry as your son looked around intrigued.

You didn'tYou didn't have to wait long to see a large figure walking towards you. You shone your phone at the stranger, but immediately dropped it. If you hadn't had your son in your arms, you probably would have collapsed to the ground.

The newcomer picked up the phone, a cheeky smile gracing his distinguished face.

"Hallo, mein leibe."

You shivered, and, unable to hold it in any longer, you let out a loud sob.

"Hans !" you managed to say.

"It's me, mein leibe."

"But... What ? The tower ?! I saw you on TV... And Simon... I..." you struggled, unable to string two words together or form a proper sentence, almost crying.

"I'll explain everything to you, but not here, mein leibe, follow me."

You followed him without hesitation, your head swarming with questions. Your son had finally fallen asleep, his head resting on your shoulder and was completely oblivious to what was happening at the moment.

Hans made you get into a spacious Audi. You settled into the front seat, your son still asleep in your arms.

"Hans, it's really you," you whispered as you watched him carefully.

It was him. Despite the scar that crossed his left cheek, he was still the same man with the same black hair and hooked nose that he shared with his son.

"How is that possible ?" you asked as he started the car.

"It's a long story. I know what they said in the press, that I had fallen from the top of the tower, foiled by this McClan, it was a good story, a story that held water. It allowed me to disappear more easily."

"Disappear more easily ? Disappear ?" you repeated, raising your voice.

"Mein leibe, when you steal 600 million dollars it's better to be dead..."

"And me !" you cut him off harshly, "you thought of me ?! Two years Hans ! You left me two years without any news ! I was heartbroken, I wanted to die ! I would have died if it hadn't been for our..." you interrupted yourself, your throat tight with grief.

"Mein leibe, there wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of you. And I had men to watch over you."

"What ?" you said, stunned.

"You didn't really think that I was going to leave my most precious possession unattended ? Everything was set up with Simon to ensure your safety well before the events at Nakatomi Tower."

You couldn't believe it, shaken by what he had just told you.

"Was your fake fall from the tower part of the plan ?"

Hans remained silent and suddenly hysterical, you started hitting his shoulder with your small, not very thick fist.

"I hate you ! I hate you Hans ! You had no right to do such a thing to me. You say you love me but you're nothing but a liar. You broke my heart, your death, your fake death, almost killed me."

"Mein leibe, it would never be certain. Simon was watching over you in the shadows and he would never have allowed this to happen. But when we found out about your pregnancy, then we knew that you were going to cling to this child like a lifeline. I was relieved, it gave me time to put everything in place for the next stage of our lives."

You stopped pounding his shoulder with your fist to look at him with wide eyes.

"And who says I still want you in my life? "

"Mein leibe, you can lie to yourself but not to me. I can read you like the first day."

"Bastard !" You shouted.

"You can insult me ​​as much as you want if it makes you feel better, but now that I've found you and my son, I'll never let you go again."

You said nothing, your mixed feelings preventing you from thinking rationally. Hans took advantage of your silence to explain to you what happened after Nakatomi Tower. How he had reached a doctor in the pay of people like him to treat him without asking questions. How he had managed to launder the money he had stolen and how, for two years, he had been forgotten by everyone so that he could arrange the future of both of you. Of all three of you.

"Why did you wait two years Hans ? Didn't you want to meet your son ?" you asked in your voice weakened by emotion.

"Of course I did, but I was afraid of putting you in danger. I waited, patiently, for the right moment."

"How did you know it was now ?"

"Simon," he simply said.

You drove all night until you reached France. There, you drove to a small house in the countryside, far from any human existence.

"Can I ?" Hans asked when you wanted to pick up your son and take him inside.

You nodded and watched with affection as he gently lifted his child, his eyes filled with an indefinable emotion. He carried him to the living room and set him down on the couch.

"He's beautiful," Hans murmured.

"He looks just like you."

"I hope he has your soft heart," he replied sincerely.

"And now Hans ?"

"The choice is up to you. Either you decide to stay with me, or you leave. But I won't let you take my son from me."

"What about me ? Do I matter to you or are you just here for him ?"

"[Y/N], mein leibe... I wanted to give you the illusion of having a choice."

You shook your head in disbelief. However, he didn't need to make you feel like you had the right to choose, because you would always choose him no matter what. You and your heart were completely his.

"Where are we going ?"

Hans pulled out a stuffed koala from the inside pocket of his jacket that he had planned to give to your child.

"Australia," he said cheerfully.

"Australia ?"

"You're always cold there, you'll always be warm," he said playfully.

"We're going to have to change identities ?"

"I've already planned it all out."

"I don't have my name to say about my next name ?" You teased, well only half-heartedly.

"You can choose whatever name you like, mein leibe, but your last name will be Marston."

"Marston ?" you repeated stupidly.

"My new identity is Elliott Marston and I thought you'd like to be Elliott's wife."

You froze, your mouth half-open.

"Are you proposing to me ?"

Hans laughed.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to have a conventional princess wedding."

"I never wanted a princess wedding," you said under your breath.

"So ?"

"So ?" You repeated.

"So, do you want to be Mrs. Marston ?"

You nodded frantically.

"Yes ! Hans, yes !"

You threw yourself into his arms and he caught you laughing, kissing the top of your head.

"Well, that's settled Mrs. Marston, we're leaving for Australia in two days to start our new lives."

A whimper caught your attention. A muffled "mommy" came from you and you rushed to your son before he started crying at not seeing you as he woke up in a place completely unfamiliar to him.

Hans watched you interact with the child in the doorway, unsure of what to do. You held out your hand to invite him closer, which he did cautiously so as not to scare the child.

"Hans, let me introduce you to Christopher, your son," you said with emotion.

You had dreamed of this moment for so long, a moment you thought you would never get to experience. Hans sat down next to you and you handed him the child who was watching him with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. Finally, he rested his head against Hans' chest, his thumb in his mouth and you smiled affectionately. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. Hans, although stoic as usual, couldn't stop the pride and love from flooding his usually cold and calculating gaze.

"My son," he whispered as he kissed the top of his head, "I promise to give you the best that life has to offer. You and your mother will never want for anything, you both have my word."

You leaned down to gently kiss the man who had made you come alive the moment you met him, the one who could break you in an instant if he were to disappear.

"Hans, I'm so happy that you're here with us. With Christopher, I was someone again, but without you, I'm nothing."

"Mein leibe, we'll never be apart again, I promise."

He dug into his pocket to pull out a small square box that he handed to you.

"I'm sorry I'm not doing this by the book, but I have a precious package in my hands," he whispered, kissing the top of Christopher's head.

You opened the box to find the most beautiful emerald sitting on a gold band.

"Hans, it's beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you, mein leibe."

He placed a soft kiss on your lips before setting Christopher down on the ground, who was starting to get agitated, annoyed by the lack of attention towards him. Hans held you close and you let yourself fall against his chest, sighing contentedly as you both watched with affection your son playing with his stuffed koala.

"Merry Christmas, mein leibe," Hans whispered in your ear.

"Merry Christmas Hans," you replied as you snuggled a little closer to him.

"The best of all," Hans whispered, "and I can't wait for the next one in the middle of a beach surrounded by the two loves of my life."

Finally, you thought happily, Christmas miracles really did exist and this year that had started with some missing mirth was finally heralding a bright future.