#I get Go Rush has a lot of characters but in the beginning he seemed important
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I enjoy seeing Kawai Tell but man literally shows up to infodump and then disappears to become irrelevant again
#He’s only duelled once#I get Go Rush has a lot of characters but in the beginning he seemed important#It seemed like he’d align with Zwijo but then it became that he’s just interested in studying things like the Earthdamar#We don’t even see him learning about all the information he’s dropping#Can we give the info dumps to Yuamu?#She’s more relevant and shown to be smart and quick to figure things out#That whole talk about Yudias dueling and getting through to Phaser’s mind#Which turned him into this weird dragon and human hybrid was kind of bs#yugioh go rush#kawai tell
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from SCARABIA
- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.
- Characters: Kalim Al-Asim, Jamil Viper.
- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.
- Note: Hey! Hey... How y'all doing...? I know it's been nearly two years since I updated this.
Pomefiore | Scarabia | Octavinelle

Jasmine. The scent of freshly ground jasmine tea leaves permeated the air, an attempt to cast a relaxing affect. However, it only had the opposite affect, as you knew enough to determine where the letter might've originated from. A vertical envelope sealed, with no wax seal or string to hold it shut. A perfectly normal envelope but labeled urgent.
Each word seemed so carefully planned, the ink creating coils and lines like woven fabric as if printed. It nearly felt too unnatural, from the formalness that spiraled into quick and rushed writing. After this many letters, you've picked up by now that the neatest ones likely have something to hide, but they likely got tired of hiding it. Pretty penned words and apologies in ink were used to conceal what the writer truly felt.
To the player,
Do not leave Ramshackle dorm tonight.
Mondays you visit Mr. S's Mystery Shop for the essentials. Tuesdays you sneak into the botanical garden. Wednesdays you spend time with Professor Crewel as he stays late to grade exams in the Alchemy Workshop. Thursdays you hide in the Coliseum as Coach Vargas rearranges equipment. Fridays you slip into the back of the library where Professor Trein is reading. Weekends you're either with Headmaster Crowley in the Hall of Mirrors or guarded in Ramshackle.
They know you leave Ramshackle at midnight. I just want to warn you. No one is supposed to be around at midnight. It should have remained a short moment away from the confines of Ramshackle, but, the same people you've been avoiding have heard about your nightly escapades.
I know I'm one of those people you're avoiding. Know that I'm not upset at you. I don't fault you for it. You've known my true nature for a while now, but you could realize that even I'm not twisted enough to stalk you and get your schedule all on my own. All that above? Information I heard. I don't approve of tracking you, not when you deserve to have peace and quiet if you want it. But I don't mind influencing a classmate or two with magic to hear what's going on inside each dorm when they're threatening your brief moments of peace. There's the obvious happenings, and the not so obvious ones.
That being said, you do know that I am willing to do what it takes to protect your space and to advance my standing above the rest. That's something I don't bother to hide around you. So, I'll tell you the happenings. The obvious that others have probably yapped about already... Malleus and his cohorts have taken up the task of guarding Ramshackle, so they know about your trips. Ignihyde is mostly quiet, but Ortho has been talking to Kalim a lot about "fun" plans to involve you in. Pomefiore maintaining their refined image to impress you when I doubt that it's all real.
The Leech twins have been particularly prone to violence recently, and Azul lacks his usual confidence although he tries to hide it. In Savanaclaw there's been multiple brawls because of the tension but Leona seems to be sleeping in more than before. Heartslabyul is as chaotic as ever, but it seems like they feel the most responsible for what happened. I've seen those two first years, Ace and Deuce, try to visit Ramshackle all the time but never get past the gate.
That's not all, but that's all I'll say about that for now.
I'm not trying to bother you, I can promise you that. I managed to put a stop to about ten plans Kalim was ready to set in motion just this week to grab your attention.
You realize what this is by now. I know you do. A warning from me, an attempt to redeem myself. Although "redeem" doesn't seem like a suitable word, because I don't really believe true redemption is possible. Not with what I allowed to happen to you. But I only care about myself, and you. No one else. So I don't care if their plans fail. In fact, I'm glad to tell you this, just so they won't see you.
Don't let them see you. They don't deserve it. None of us do. My advice to you: avoid your usual destinations for about a week or two. After a while, they'll start looking elsewhere. Give me a few more days, I'll start planting false rumors soon to throw them off. Like how you were spotted in the woods behind campus or the sports field. That will get them off your back for a while. If you plan to go to the cafeteria eventually for a meal, take the long way through the back. Hardly anyone goes that way. If you want a home cooked meal, let me know. I'll send something your way if you just ask.
One last warning. You're going to get a letter around the same time you'll get this one you're currently reading. It's an invitation from Kalim. Don't go. He's planning a surprise party with the exact people you're avoiding.
Anything you tell Kalim will eventually be told to others, you should know that. Anything you say to me will be kept a secret I will closely guard. If you want more information or greater details, something to be delivered since I imagine you'll be in Ramshackle for a while, or just desire new company for once... I'm here. Even if you don't want me, I'm here. With just one response from you, I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Tell me whatever you wish, and I'll see to it just to be back in your grace.
Awaiting your response.
Best wishes,
Jamil Viper
A chill traveled up your spine as you processed the message you just read. The window was right beside you, so you reached up to pull the string of the blinds, blocking out the sights in fear of someone watching through those very windows.
"Grim, we're going to have to take a rain check on our trip to the cafeteria tonight." Once you dropped the letter, you went window to window, closing and locking each one, pulling down the blinds and readjusting the curtains.
"Aww..." The feline watched in confusion as you moved around to check the locked front and back doors. Normally he would've immediately whined and complained about the canceled trip to the place with food, but he sensed your reemerging paranoia. Following you, his tail swished behind him as he walked on all fours. "What's with you? Was it something in that letter?"
Pulling on the door handle, you were only satisfied when it didn't budge. "Yes."
When you handed him the letter to read, his little paws grasped onto it and he handed you a second open letter that was unfamiliar. Sniffing the jasmine scented letter, Grim pulled away and plopped down with it. "I was reading that other one while you were distracted. It sounds fun and it would be worth going if they weren't crazy obsessed, you know."
Fun?
When you took a closer look at the letter Grim handed you, it was evidence that Jamil had told the truth in this instance.
Even from where you stood, you could make out the shimmer of the torn envelope forgotten in the living room floor feet away from where you stood. Grim has throughly torn through it, the exterior was white with a corner accidentally stained by black ink. The interior of the envelope shined like gold. Was it real gold? Probably not, but at this rate, anything was possible.
The letter was clearly perfumed, and each word was written far more casually than in other letters you had already read. Each word was written in clear black ink, and there seemed to be a doodle marking the end of every paragraph. There was a heart, a smiley face, and a star, just to name a few. Just by a glance, it didn't carry the same heavy content like the others did. There was only one person you could think of who would have written this.
Hi, Player!
You are invited to a celebration in your honor!
That's right. Tomorrow, at the Scarabia dorm, I'll be hosting a party just for you! There's gonna be every type of food you can think of, the best songs to dance to, and invitations have already been sent out. It's gonna be the biggest party this place has ever seen! I even imported some gifts from off campus to give you later. I'm sure you're probably wondering why throw a party after everything that happened, huh?
Well, I had two reasons. One, I wanted to use it as an apology. I'm sorry. I really really mean it. I know I keep saying it with every gift and letter I've sent you. I don't even have a clue if you've read the ones I sent before. I hope you've seen them. Did you at least like the bracelet I sent last time? It's real gold from my homeland!
The second reason was because I just really want to see you. Even if you just come by for a minute, just one dance or have one plate of food, that would be enough. It would make me happy. And maybe it might make you happy too? Jamil said it isn't a good idea, but its worth a shot! And really, we're all miserable without you. I figured that it would be a way to cheer everyone up, not just you and me. Right now, I think everyone could use a bit of festivity to lift their spirits. Especially you, and honestly, me too. Ever since you shut yourself in Ramshackle, everyone's been worried sick.
I hope you're doing better now! Admittedly, I still feel guilty about what happened. Whenever I think too much about it, I get scared when I imagine what you went through and what could've happened. I wish I could turn back time to when you walked into Scarabia and pretended to be someone else. My heart recognized you before my brain did, and I was too happy with you to even realize that the joy I felt in that moment was so familiar. It was familiar because I was with you, and I'm only that happy when I'm hanging out with you! I think about that day a lot, you know. But you didn't tell me it was you for a reason.
You were scared, weren't you? That's why you kept looking around so much back then. At first, I thought it was because you were curious of the dorm, but I was wrong. You weren't scared of me, were you? I hope not. You know I would never ever hurt you, right? Even when you were known as the "imposter," I didn't want to cause you any pain at all. I just wanted to ask: why? Why was this happening? Why had they caused Yuu to break down? Why were they doing it and causing us so much pain?
Because without you, we were hurting. Badly.
I was hurting, and I don't ever remembering feeling a pain like this. It feels worse than any sort of bitter poison or heartbreaking betrayal. I'm so, so, sorry.
I don't want to dwell on the past too much. It hurts to think about. I hope you'll be willing to at least consider forgiving me? It seems like a lot to ask, and I have no idea what you're thinking. I really want to see you, and hanging out again, and forget all this ever happened. But I can't do that, because I have to consider you, your thoughts, your opinion on everything.
Sorry, sorry, I don't want this letter to sound depressing. It's supposed to be an invitation! Everything's gonna be okay, it has to be. Soon, maybe, I'll get to see you again and everything will be right. I won't feel this pain in my chest anymore, once I'm with you. Right now, let me take this chance to just try and explain how much you mean to me... Uh, I never thought I would actually get this opportunity. It doesn't feel real. I don't even know if the right words exist that capture my emotions. Let's see... When I wake up in the mornings, you're the first thing on my mind as the sun comes up. When I fall asleep at night, you're all that's in my dreams as the sun goes down.
People think I'm too hopeful, too naive, when it comes to you. But I'm not! One day, I know we'll be together again, and we'll be happy! I'll get to just live beside you, the real you! That's been my wish ever since I've met you through your vessel, Yuu.
We're already halfway there! You're here, in our world, I've met you, I've spoken to you, I've been so close I literally touched your hand! Yeah, we messed up along the way, but we'll make up for it! All that's left is to earn your forgiveness, and my wish will have come true once you allow me to be next to you again! I'm so so close, and yet you seem so far away. Just out of reach, but I'll get there, don't worry. I'll make up for everything. All you gotta do is guide me. Tell me what you want. Please.
I'll check up on you soon, okay?
See you tomorrow,
Kalim Al-Asim
#twisted wonderland#twst#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#twst imposter au#i didn't ask to isekaied#we just got a letter wonder who it’s from#jamil viper#yandere jamil viper#twst jamil#kalim al asim#yandere kalim al asim#twst kalim#scarabia
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( ➴ ) ℬ𝖴𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖧𝖮𝒯 ✸ like a fire inside
⤷ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝗈. 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖾. “𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾.”
### . STARRING ⌢ n.rk ⋆ drabble + 1.1k // tw. kissing + unedited ˖ ✧
𝓍𝗈𝗑𝗈 ─── #needthat. loose by enha inspired && stream loose! + [FILE.ZIP]
a city wide power outage forcing you to stay locked in very close quarters with your roommate nishimura riki, was a thing you saw as an advantage.
because really, you'd been thinking this for a while now, but despite having lived together for around a month - you'd barely exchanged 3 full sentences with the man.
so this would be the perfect opportunity to bond and get to know each other right?
yeah, well, that's where you were wrong.
turns out breaking the ice isn't very easy when you're quite literally melting due to the heat. pun fully intended. you're way too hot to care about or even begin to process how bad the joke is.
but not ni-ki, apparently.
the reaction you'd expected from him was something along the lines of a scoff, maybe a subtle eye roll if you were especially unlucky that day. either would've been in character with the nonchalant, “couldn't care less” allure he always had around him.
but the short laugh your roommate huffed out was completely out of the blue. rather endearingly so, at that. you would've said it sent a rush to your face, even, but that was probably just the heat getting to you. probably.
what was that saying again? go big or go home? considering you’re essentially forced to be home, there’s nothing else you can do but go big, right? ^^
so, cheered up by your short victory, you decide to go all out!
posing your suggestion to ni-ki has a positive reaction, too. he seems more than compliant with your idea of pulling out the board games jungwon had given to you as a housewarming gift (it’s almost like he’d predicted you’d need them this very day…) and scrounge up some snacks to take your mind off of the the power outage.
the conversation is .. stilted at first. but you’re nothing if not patient.
in the middle of a round of Cards Against Humanity, you replan and switch tactics. (which is totally not because your cards just happen to be boring, nope, no way.)
a classic game of 20 questions. and it goes a whole lot better! at least till question number 19, that is.
because on the 20th question, nishimura riki pauses.
a contemplative look graces his features, lit up by the dozens of candles you’d placed around the apartment. you find yourself slightly lost in the gaze he directs towards you.
“why did it take you this long?”
that snaps you out of your reverie.
“i’m asking why,” and now he’s inching closer, ever so slightly. you half wonder if it’s because he thinks you didn’t hear him properly? that’s .. surprisingly very considerate, “you waited so long to do this.”
you’re at a loss for words. “i’m not sure i understand?..”
the smirk on ni-ki’s face seems rather worrying.
“no?” he somehow still manages to keep up his nonchalance. casual to a point where you find yourself doubting the build up of the situation.
“i think,” his fingers press against the skin a little more firmly now, as if trying to emphasize his words, while simultaneously letting you know that this is happening and it’s real. it makes your breath hitch in your throat. “you’ve known it all along.
you just didn’t want to see it.”
and oh.
it all makes sense.
the palpable tension that surrounds you whenever you’re in his vicinity. the way your heart races, the way you find yourself struggling to stay composed.
your lack of communication was never an attribute to lack of trying. if anything, it was a mechanism to avoid fanning the flames of something that had been brewing since the first day you were introduced.
it was at a party you vaguely recall, organized by the friend of a friend. you’d both found yourself outside, away from the crowded room to get a breath of much needed cooling air.
…
dazed, you realize it’s getting a little too hot. maybe it wasn’t the best idea to have lit up all those candles on an already blazing summer night.
or maybe it’s just the warmth emanating from your roommate’s (slightly) overbearing presence. you could’ve sworn he’s closer than he was earlier.
“i’ve been waiting way too long for this.”
it’s infuriating how you feel like you’ve fallen for some kind of a trap he devised. and it’s clear he’s more than aware of it too, by the confidence and ease with which his hand glides up your waist teasingly. the cloth there does nothing to cover the searing heat of the trail his touch follows.
you’re not too sure if you were the one who moved closer still, or if it was him again. all you know is that the tension culminating all this while is suddenly so, so evident now that you can almost taste its headiness.
“it’s …” you trail off, not sure how to express everything in your mind without miserably tripping all over your words.
“too hot?”
“... mhm.”
he seems pleased at that. “you’re so … tensed up. don’t you think it’s about time we let it loose?”
you don’t answer. you don’t have to.
because the moment you lean in — a small motion, but it’s enough to serve its purpose — everything shifts.
ni-ki kisses you. it’s slow at first, to test the waters. like he’s offering you a chance to pull away.
the softness of the movement of his lips against yours completely opposes the look in his eyes just seconds ago.
it's an easy tell that he’s holding back. letting you bask in the feeling of what this could be.
your hands tangle in the fabric of his shirt, clinging on to ground yourself lest you get disoriented. more than you already are, that is.
that’s also when he finally breaks away, as if on cue. and the way he whispers against your lips through the kiss is enough to drive you insane, “tell me you feel the same.”
the simple demand is .. earnest. you’d believe it fully if it wasn’t for the way his thumb brushes against the corner of your mouth, the way his eyes flicker back to the scene hungrily.
does ni-ki really think you’d be able to refuse? especially with the way his gaze is fixed onto yours, beguile in its purest essence.
lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his voice seems lower than usual, as if strained, while it drips with all the impatience in the world.
“guess you’re finally caught up. we still have all night left, remember?”
you do. and it’s clear from the low, amused tone that he does too.
“i’d rather not waste a single second more, then.”
looks like your plan to get to know your roommate was successful after all.
a little too successful, even, you’d say.
𐙚 . regulars : @chrrific (tysm for the all the help + emotional support seriously ilysm) @jessxxxfwd @evanesceki @soobundle1009 @weedatthegasstattion @flipitkickit ⋆
[@bambisnc] 2k25
#ㅤㅤ[ 📋 ⋆ 𐙚 ]#niki x reader#riki nishimura#riki x reader#nishimura riki#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#nishimura riki x reader#riki nishimura x reader#enhypen niki#kpop imagines#kpop#kpop x reader#kpop fanfic#kpop fluff#kpop scenarios#div fromlil-liaa
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Prove your heart; Dragonheart ch.3
Pairing: OT7 dragon!BTS x knightess!reader
Genre: dragon rider AU, high fantasy, soulmate adjacent, slight enemies to lovers (if you squint), angst, fluff and humour, eventual smut
Chapter summary: The ceremony happens, and since then it just seems like one crisis after another. How much can one human possibly bear?
Word count: cca 26.7k words
Warnings: angsttttt, i'd say near death experience adjacent, drowning, violence, huge emotional turmoil, some hostility and mistrust, the emperor being a weirdo, forced proximity kinda??, i hope that's all
Series masterlist | Previous Part | Next part
Lore | Dictionary | Character studies
A/N: welcome!! it's been a while, i know, but i bring a whole new beast of a chapter! this just kept getting longer and longer haha, hope you enjoy <3 pace is about to pick up from here on out!
If Jungkook wasn’t nervously fidgeting right beside me, I’d feel a lot more embarrassed for the way my fingers endlessly toyed with the silk fabric of my uniform, stretching and smoothing it out, shifting the belt around or righting the jade beads as they swung about my hip. I felt the wild thrum of my heartbeat in my ribcage, the palms of my hands growing clammy as the distant buzz of a banquet roared in the background.
I looked to the young dragon again, and for all his nerves and shifting from foot to foot, the moment he sensed my eyes on him he smiled wide, warmness around him that calmed me a little.
The room behind the wall quietened before a loud chorus of “greetings to our empire” sounded through so fiercely I almost felt the ground shake with the echo. My heart slowed before jumping up into even a faster beat, and I locked my knees to keep me standing upright.
The emperor has arrived. The ritual would soon begin.
The murmurs of other first-years and their chosen bonds caught up to me and I was suddenly aware of Hwa-young’s cheery voice and the quiet rumble of her dragoness Yong, an answering giggle from Siwoo who came in with a tall muscled dragon that didn’t speak much, but had a gentle aura around him. The other three stood a little away from us, stone-faced and firm, their own chosen dragons standing next to them stiffly.
For all of them, life would change tonight, with the ceremony taking place.
The few days before went by almost a little too quickly, almost like it was merely hours since I left the dragons’ house after sitting through an awkward and chillingly quiet meal, the unfriendly gazes drilling into me every time I chose to speak or to stay silent, as if I could never make the right choice. Jungkook either felt oblivious to the tension or naively thought it would pass, because he never floundered by my side, channelling warm energy almost as if pretending everything was okay between the eight of us. As if I wasn’t sitting right next to him, wishing I was anywhere else. Or anyone else.
Maybe it wouldn’t make it a smooth ride, but it would definitely be easier.
The thunder has been quiet, keeping out of our way when I arrived to the banquet hall, but knowing they were present put even more stress onto my shoulders, and I tried to not dig too deeply into how they must be feeling and what they possibly thought of this. Actually, I might even take a page from their book and avoid looking to them all-together, lest I buckle under the strength of the dislike displayed there.
The rush of noise from the hall signalled that the emperor has most likely just finished whatever dreary nonsense he was going on about. From what I remembered from the ceremonies I witnessed before, now they would feast and wait for us to get ready for the ritual.
The bonding ceremony had to take place under the naked sky, on a full moon when there was a spike in the natural magickal energy in the air. Dragons, as beings of nature, drew their life-force and their magick from their connection to such phenomena – whether lunar or solar, whether sea or winds, those forces could be harnessed and turned to their own.
Bonding occurrences, whether platonic or romantic, often took place during such important spikes in the natural flow of energy and this one was no exception – even though now it happened under the imperial supervision and not as organically as it used to, with only the elders and Authorities around to bless the union.
There was a sanctuary for these occurrences, it was built as soon as the need for empire sanctioned bondings arose – it was a little roofless gazebo, all white stone and spindly spires covered in carved vines and blooms, as white and cold as the stone, with a little altar right at the centre. It stood right at the edge of the black cliff in one corner of the royal gardens, hanging over the wild sea beneath the castle and overlooking the dark horizon, almost as an omen more than a sacred place.
I wasn’t very well versed in the old dragon lore, and humans weren’t privy to information about such intimate rituals, therefore I didn’t have much of an idea about how the old ceremony used to look like, though I was pretty sure it wasn’t as pompous or procedural as it was today.
Mating bonds were a whole another thing, and those involved much more… intimate affairs, though by the logic we knew of old dragon rituals, even those took place out in the nature, where the moon or the sun could grace the union with its light.
A thunderous clap broke me out of my zoning out just as someone was tugging on my uniform, pulling me away from the little corner where I was having my little spiral.
Hwa-young’s smile appeared light, though I could see the slight strain on her face. Her own nerves must have been eating her from the inside, the weight of carrying a forbidden surname and yet participating in such a public display was no ordinary feat. Yet, she carried herself no less cheerful, and I had to admire the strength of her spirit for that. In my own little awkward gesture of support I patted her shoulder lightly. Her smile melted slightly, showing a tad more relief, and then she was off towards her dragoness friend.
Wordlessly I followed after her, feeling Jungkook trailing behind me just from the sheer aura he exuded. We had a very different path to follow – whereas the emperor and the attendees dined and drank wine before slowly making their way over to the ceremonial place, we had to cleanse ourselves before the bonding.
When I walked out the little side-room, a woman was standing there. I recognised her immediately upon seeing her face, and how could I not – when she was one of the most recognisable faces of this unit, and one of the most vocal supporters of the empire (though you really couldn’t be anything else, if you wanted to be of high standing). Or at least she appeared so – I highly doubted my father truly cared for the empire or the man running it either, but the violence served his own goals too well not to keep his cushy place at the top.
At the castle one never knew whether they spoke to someone opportunistic or just truly brain-washed – that’s why I hated it here so much. It all felt like one never-ending charade.
General Yan was truly no different. It was hard to see what she thought and what opinions she truly held, but everyone knew of the appetite for blood this woman held. And her dragoness was just as brutal.
Their cruelty was a tale that spread far and wide, and drew distaste even from other supporters of the emperor who found them needlessly barbaric. I myself was a witness to how other lords and madams reacted to their savagery and boundless support of any war.
As long as they could slaughter indiscriminately, they were in favour. The emperor loved her, in a way a cruel master does a particularly rabid dog.
Now standing face to face with her, with her attention drawn to us as her new disciples, I got the chance to take a proper look at her.
She was an older woman, maybe in her late fifties – I imagined she must have been around the same age as my father, maybe they could have even attended the Academy in the same year (it would certainly explain their strong dislike of each other). Her hair was very dark grey, as if the black pigment simply refused to give in to time. She was also quite small and a little stout, though her muscle and strength were visible.
Tonight she stood in front of us without her dragoness, but she was no doubt at the banquet drinking with others and waiting for the ceremony to happen.
The general didn’t speak for quite a while, only looked down on us, even with us all taller than her, her appraising gaze sharp and judging. I saw a spark of true joy as she took in Peacock, and I knew those two would simply love each other. They had the disposition for each other.
“Follow me,” were her first words, her voice brittle and cold, and then she was walking away without a single glance back.
I let the other five pairs go first, wanting to put distance between me and the woman, and not wanting to get myself into the way of some other more ambitious students eager to win her approval as soon out of the gates as possible. Though minutely I did wonder how exactly my father planned on pushing me through when the very woman who led this unit seemed to be affiliated with his opposition.
That would be amusing to watch yet.
Jungkook kept quiet by my side, which was somewhat unusual for him, but I couldn’t blame him, not with the oppressive aura that hung over us. He too must have been out of his element here, with his age, getting his first rider, and with his hyungs all away from him in another room, this was as unknown to him as it was to us. Though I imagined he probably got the rundown of the ritual from his other more experienced mates, unlike me.
All I knew was that my body and soul would come out different, connected to my dragon in a way that would make me a little more than simply human. Altered senses, heightened perception and the ability to speak telepathically with your dragon were some I was sure of, but the full extent, the full scope – that continued to escape me.
We walked in silence for a little while, climbing down staircases lower and lower until smooth bricks turned into hard black stone only roughly chiselled into shapes of walls. I’ve never been this deep into the castle, but seeing all that dark and damp, it wasn’t much to desire.
The room where we were led ended up being a high-ceilinged cave-like space with a single stone basin filled to the brim with water. The floor was smoothed over, carved into the resemblance of stone tiles, and the basin stood perfectly in the middle, a few steps above the room.
To my surprise, the general’s dragoness stood there next to it, expressionless but every bit regal and proud, as always.
Ha-rin was one of the dragons that found joy and purpose in serving the empire – after all, every race had their fair share of bloodthirsty and cruel beasts, and dragons were no exception. She was a born warrior, and her poisonous smoke and acidic vomit made her a formidable and nigh unbeatable force. She was one of those dragons that posed considerable risk even to her own kin, which made her just as power-hungry and conceited as humans could get, which in turn served to raise her higher and higher until she climbed to the very top of the dragon food chain.
I imagined that had she been free, she’d have most probably gone against her own brothers and sisters anyway. She’d have probably gone against anyone, to be perfectly honest. She just had that feel about her.
I wondered how such a prideful woman wasn’t torn up about being a slave to a lesser being like humans were (in some dragons’ eyes anyway). Those two must have been incredibly in sync for this to not have been a problem.
General Yan swiftly walked up those few marble stairs and stood next to her partner, both of them standing by the stone basin filled to the brim. We naturally lined up underneath it, all silent and holding our breaths, waiting for the woman to start addressing us, to give us instructions.
Her eyes once again slid across all of us, cold stare taking us in and calculating, wondering. Then she sighed, which didn’t seem very good.
“You are here to cleanse yourselves,” she spoke suddenly, gesturing towards the water, “these waters are blessed by the High Priest, and with his blessing comes the blessing of the Moon herself.”
The water sparkled as if littered with countless tiny stars, one moment deep blue, one moment black, one moment almost silver, ever changing and never the same – and my treacherous mind escaped to Jimin, to his slick hair and his face littered with silvery shimmering scales, the way his movements were as fluid and smooth as the surface of the blessed water when disturbed by the general’s hands. As the sight transfixed me, I could almost see the elegant swing of his arms and hands, the shimmer of his smooth golden skin- I wondered if I’d ever be able to see the graceful arch of his all-powerful wings.
“Once cleansed, you will don ceremonial robes and the time will come to go take the vows,” her sharp voice broke me out of the sudden forbidden turn I took, and with a bit of a start I banished the thoughts of the dragon that had no business floating around my head from my mind.
Emperor’s ominous words from when he summoned me that morning to ask whether I was looking forward to the ceremony also still floated around my mind, the “things will change now for you” spoken in an almost mischievously teasing voice, until I could taste the appetite for suffering in him and shuddered.
First pair begun climbing the stairs towards the General. I felt Jungkook’s hand nervously sneaking in to clutch onto my sleeve.
I watched breathless as the dark-haired young man whose name I haven’t learnt yet reached the stone tub, and for the first time I saw his face turn with the evident traces of uncertainty and unease. The older woman gestured for him to kneel down with a swift movement of her two fingers, and as soon as he was chest level with the water, her hand slowly made its way into his dark suede hair. I only had a split second to register the way she gripped before his head was yanked down, pushed into the little basin chest deep.
There were several gasps of shock between us, but none dared to move, so we all just stood there and watched as he started to struggle, body jerking and arms wildly pushing at the stone, attempting to force his head back up.
The woman standing over him remained expressionless, but I saw the little pleased curl to her lips as she chided him to stay still.
“The less you struggle, the sooner it will be over,” her cold words rang another distinct pang of pure horror through our hearts, the statement just ambiguous and ominous enough to have any kind of meaning.
To the struggling boy it made no difference, she could have just as been speaking in tongues. His body struggled, jerked around with mighty force, but the older woman held stead-fast, not even breaking sweat over his frenzied movements.
As it kept going, slowly his resistance begun losing its strength, and with creeping dread I watched as his hands helplessly slipped around on the polished stone, wet with all the water splashing around. His fingers flexed on the rim, then unflexed again, and then slowly started going slack.
I chanced a look around and saw Hwa-young’s and Siwoo’s face painted with something very similar to what I felt. Jungkook seemed just as disturbed as well, clammy fingers slipping on the silk of my black sleeve. The other dragons watched on with a solemn kind of resolution, and I realised they had likely gone through this before, most probably even several times.
Peacock and the blonde man stood to the side, and this was the most relaxed I’d seen them since we walked into that little back-room and waited for the banquet to start, even though they kept their faces carefully in check.
Finally the hold the general had on the black-haired boy’s head slackened and his chest swung upwards, head fighting to break the surface and take in a long shuddering breath. His weakened form leaned on the stone, open mouth gaping to get in as much air as possible.
He didn’t get much time to catch his bearings though, as the general already gestured for his chosen dragoness to kneel, and with cold eyes pierced the man until he got the hint and moved away, making space for the other person.
I caught a glimpse of the basin as they changed positions, and to my surprise the water was once more filled to the brim, as if a person hasn’t almost drowned there just moments ago, the surface once more calm and almost inviting. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost call the waters expecting.
Once the dragoness was in position, this time Ha-rin took it upon herself to ‘cleanse’ her, roughly gripping her hair and pushing her down with almost reckless abandon. I dreaded the moment she’d get a go at Jungkook, and by the nervous inhale by my side, the dragon was most likely thinking much the same.
Unlike her knight, the dragoness stayed perfectly still, only her hands tensing up into fists and unfurling again, knuckles white as her shoulders twitched with suppressing the survival instinct begging her to fight for some air.
Ha-rin pushed her around a little, her face pinched tight into a displeased frown – clearly disappointed there wasn’t more struggle, but it seemed that this dragoness has gone through this before. Her rider stood by and watched on with barely concealed terror written onto his red and still wet face, the darkness in his eyes reflecting just how shaken he was after his sudden brush with death.
Once the dragoness stayed stubbornly still and Ha-rin released her not long after, a sour expression on her face, it became quite clear that the earlier line about not struggling too much wasn’t for any ceremonial reasons – quite simply, if you didn’t struggle, it wasn’t fun for them.
I felt disgust coil around the tightly woven fear in my stomach, the unpleasant concoction of emotions making my hands tremble and shaking me through with uneven breaths.
The first duo was quickly sent off their way, the once cocky man now staring off onto the floor, eyes wild and unseeing. I saw the shakiness of his own hands, and I couldn’t blame him, even through the visceral dislike I held towards him.
The next two pairs were over in a flash it seemed – the blonde held steadily, though even he couldn’t stop himself from gripping the rim of the tub, as if to remind himself to give over easily and go with the motion of the waters as they splashed around him.
When it came to be Peacock’s turn, to all of our surprise, his head got barely held down, and he emerged cool and smirking, like this whole thing was barely an inconvenience to him. I held back my expression of pure repulsion, but thankfully Hwa-young didn’t feel the need to grant him such politeness, and the glare he got from her was enough to turn his face back to steel, though a note of self-assuredness stayed.
I filed the information away for later – one never knew when it could become useful, after all.
As soon as Peacock and his dragon were out of the way, Siwoo dutifully stepped up. Though he looked back towards us with fearful eyes, he held better than anyone yet, not even twitching under the pressure of the general’s hand, fingers balled into a fist and no doubt biting into the skin of his palms. I saw as she momentarily pushed harder, swaying the boy and dunking him further in, but he never broke.
When he emerged, it was with a glint of pride, and I had to respect him for the twitch of General’s face when she gazed upon him to send him away.
But then Hwa-young was next and the queasy feeling returned – because if she’d feel entitled to torture someone, it would be her. And I really didn’t want to witness that.
She climbed the stairs confident enough, and didn’t dignify the older woman with much anything – walked by quickly and knelt before the general had the chance to gesture for her – and I could see already Yan didn’t like that one bit.
Seeing Hwa get ‘cleansed’ was an actual ordeal of will and self-control. She tried her best to not panic, but it was obvious the moment she got submerged that the force of the hand surprised her and sent her into frenzy. I watched on as she desperately tried to keep her cool, but the longer she stayed, the more it took of her until her hands were desperately pushing against cold stone. Her back was tense and her knees locked on the hard ground, but she held on.
Just when I thought I couldn’t handle watching anymore, she was let go and emerged quickly, taking in quick loud breaths in between wracking coughs that sent her entire body jerking. And then Yong was there, holding a warm supporting hand to her shoulder and letting her lean onto her hip.
I felt myself untense as well, as soon as I saw how Hwa leant into the touch, how her muscles immediately gave up the fight for life and recognised safety again, leaving the girl hanging on limply and balancing on shaky beat-up knees.
She didn’t stand again for Yong’s turn, instead kneeling by the basin as well and watching how her dragoness took the humiliation with grace, holding so perfectly still you’d think she wasn’t even constricted under the water. It was obvious Ha-rin lost interest in her rather quickly and released her, and Yong broke the surface of the water like she was simply taking a shower, not even breaking the metaphorical sweat, and I marvelled at her briefly. And wondered – what exactly were Yong’s powers? Was this by chance related to them?
But then time for pondering was over, because Hwa was giving me an encouraging smile tinged with a taste of fear as she left the platform, and I felt the resolute tug of Jungkook setting on his way up the marble stairs.
Woodenly I followed after him, barely paying attention to anything else in the room except for the thrumming beat of my own heart. The walk up was terrifyingly short – the three steps were over in a flash, and before I knew I was faced with General Yan and her cruel smirk. She hasn’t looked this pleased until now, and a bad feeling sat into the pit of my stomach.
I knelt almost on instinct, after seeing the others do it so many times it just felt like the natural progression once I got to the top of the platform. I felt the tug on my sleeve as Jungkook’s fingers slipped free with my movement and he shifted to the side, but I knew his gaze was still firmly planted onto me.
I wanted to look towards him as well, but the calm waters welcomed me, the translucence drawing me in and overwhelming me with that strange eagerness, as if they couldn’t wait to have me choking on them and drowning in them. It sent a shiver through me and I instinctively tried to pull away, yet found myself frozen to the spot.
When rough fingers tangled into my hair, I almost startled at the suddenness, losing sight of the woman and not keeping up with her movements. I took a deep breath in just as the pain of someone yanking my hair spread through me and the world tilted, and then there was nothing but wet all-consuming darkness and a distinct lack of air.
It was hard to keep track of time down here, but I thought quite well of myself in those first few moments. I felt the need to fight and run rush through my body, felt my limbs jerk as the moment of panic took over, but then I willed myself calm and focused on counting the seconds.
But even as I desperately tried to keep count, the time slipped away and melted all into one long string, and when air started running out, suddenly everything felt both too slow and too fast, taking too long and going by too quickly, and I wanted to scream – scream out how it’s already been just as long as the others, that I deserved to get pulled out – but nothing but more darkness greeted me and for the first time I opened my eyes.
There was nothing to see in that dark cold basin – no light penetrated there, as if I was at the bottom of the ocean – and the water did kind of feel endless. It certainly was quite all-encompassing, in a way that left my throat tight with panic as its needy little fingers tried to pry my lips apart to steal the last of the air I had in my lungs.
The realisation that I ran out of breath kicked me like a horse, and I jerked – fully jerked, with my whole body, even as I tried to rationalise that I’d be pulled out soon.
Just as the thought managed to calm my beating heart slightly, I felt the yank on my hair dragging my head up. Filling my heart with hope. Right before I got plunged even deeper, until I felt the edge of the stone tub cutting into my ribs painfully. That was when panic truly took over.
I pushed against the hand, but felt it flex as its grip hardened, and fighting against it was almost like trying to break a wall with your bare hands. Blindly and in panic I felt along the smooth stone, trying to find anything to hold on to so that I could get a bit of leverage.
My body revolted, moving in a one big wave and trying to jerk away from the emotionless appendage, but my heels slipped on the damp marble and I just ended up bashing against the side of the tub, hurting myself even more and gasping out the last of the dying breath I held.
Water rushed in immediately and everything in me was overridden with pure fear of death so strong I could physically feel the adrenaline pump through my veins, but every twitch, every hopeless attempt brought me closer to the edge of my consciousness.
I tried to cry out, but everything was drowned out in the darkness and I barely saw anything. Something in me shouted that I was about to lose my life, my lungs screaming in pain about to burst, the punishing migraine destroying any sane thought I had until nothing but fear was left and the pure unadulterated hopelessness of the endeavour, until it was burned into my aching bones and I knew there was no coming out of this tub and – and then, a caress.
Like flipping a switch, the hungry devouring beast the water was suddenly changed into soft hands and fingers, pushing around and against my skin and cooling the heat of panic down. The fight drained from me, and I suddenly understood – the very first rider that went through this, I understood the moment his fingers slackened, the moment he lost the grip on the tub and gave in – I understood.
‘Water isn’t your enemy, child. You have been blessed by a creature of the sea. Trust it. Trust it.’
The soft feminine murmurs floated around my head, simultaneously coming in from the outside and sounding out from the inside, meshing together, and for the second time that evening Jimin’s face surfaced in the mirror of my mind and calm washed over me.
I was just about to open my mouth to speak back when suddenly I was dragged back up and instead of water air suddenly choked me and sent me into a fit of wheezing coughs. The freezing cold liquid streamed out of my mouth, pushed out of my lungs when I took a first breath in what felt like forever. Everything was hazy and my head spun, staticky fuzz crackling at the edges of my vision while I tried to make sense of where I was.
Slowly everything came back to me, and I realised I was being held by a panicking Jungkook who was desperately trying to get my attention – I registered his and Hwa-young’s voices all the way in the back of my mind while everything was still consumed by hum of blood rushing through my ears. With my hands still weak and uncoordinated, all I managed to do was pat at his shoulder to signal that I was okay, and reluctantly he let me sink down to the floor as I still attempted to fully catch my breath.
I was soaked from head to toe, most probably from the way I thrashed around, and the platform was all wet too. I laid there in the puddle and watched Jungkook gaze at me with fear, all the while the general’s dragoness kept repeating something with an angry expression on her face. I couldn’t hear, I barely even saw, but I figured she probably wanted Jungkook to take the spot to go through the cleansing too.
With the last threads of strength I found in myself I heaved myself up to my knees and shuffled to the side, leaving a nice spot for Jungkook to situate himself in. He was already on his knees from when he dived down to catch me, so he only hesitantly moved a few steps, eyes flicking between my half-dead form and the cruel being about to drown him in sacred waters.
When his head got submerged, I saw the way he jerked, just like I did from the shock of the rough movement, and without thinking I reached for his hand. I squeezed, hard enough to hurt, until I felt him squeeze back and his form relaxed slightly. I leant down on the tub, half lying on it with my hair grazing the water, and waited for him to come up.
And just like the general attempted to do to me, I saw Ha-rin slightly pull him up before plunging him even harder and deeper, just when he’d be about to run out of breath – but Jungkook was different. His hand left mine and quickly grabbed onto the edge of the tub, and when he braced and pushed up – I saw how Ha-rin’s arm clearly buckled, the self-assured expression slipping to a moment of shock and alarm, before she let go and Jungkook emerged with a fiery glint in his eyes.
I almost didn’t recognise him like that – with his wet hair slicked back his face looked much sharper, and the glistening sheen gave him an ethereal glow. Instead of the easy-going smile or a mischievous grin I was used to, his face was tight in a stormy expression, thick eyebrows drawn close and mouth twitching into a scowl. His eyes were dark, and I couldn’t fight back a shiver at seeing the growing anger in them.
That wasn’t the almost adorable and a little clumsy Jungkook, a young man that joked around with me – that was a dragon, centuries old, proud and strong and ready to fight anyone that posed a threat to him.
Ha-rin watched him with an expression I haven’t seen on her face yet that entire evening – and even though she tried to hide it, the trickle of unease and fear was visible in the cracks of her confident mask, and neither she could conceal the way her instincts pushed her to take a step back from the kneeling man.
General Yan watched their exchange in worry before she finally gestured for us to leave and barked a few orders for everyone to change into the prepared robes, all before both her and her bonded stalked off to a corner of the room.
Jungkook helped me stand, and when I looked at him, his face was back to normal. The anger melted away and left behind a kind smile as he wrapped me into a gentle embrace – one arm coiled around my waist held tightly while he helped me down the three steps.
At first I wanted to protest, tell him that I could walk on my own well, but the moment I rose to my shaky legs I realised that my knees wouldn’t be able to support me on the way down, as they were already buckling under the strain of my weight.
Everyone watched us, even when they pretended they weren’t, and I felt their eyes on our forms, the knowledge of them witnessing such a tender moment and seeing my weakness sending unease crawling up my skin. Jungkook didn’t seem to care though, not with how he immediately sat me down the moment we reached the floor and started tugging at my robes to take them off.
I only had a few seconds to register what he was doing to get flustered beyond belief before Hwa-young ran over and knelt next to me.
“Gods, are you okay?” she whispered and frantically looked me over, as if I could be hiding any injuries from her, “For a moment you truly looked dead. You just slumped over and didn’t move at all. Even Yan freaked out before she pulled you up.” I barely listened to her, instead my attention was snatched by trying to fight Jungkook’s hands still stubbornly undoing my robes, but he wouldn’t budge and wouldn’t let me do it myself, so our hands just endlessly bumped into each other while I tried to push them off with burning cheeks.
“I didn’t even lose consciousness,” I told her absent-mindedly, “I think it just looked bad because I panicked right before she spoke to me.” Jungkook’s hands paused momentarily before he resumed, but even before I registered it Hwa-young already spoke again.
“Spoke to you?” she asked, completely confused. Just as she opened her mouth to speak again, a high whistle shot through the room, startling us into twirling around.
“Change! We don’t have the whole night!” Yan’s strong voice berated us, and everyone scurried off to get themselves into the ceremonial robes. I noticed the young knightess’ curious worried glances, but at that moment chose to channel my attention into pushing Jungkook’s hands away – until I finally succeeded and motioned for him to worry about his own clothes.
Everyone worked is silence, the room filled with sounds of rustling fabrics and clinking armour, only soft murmurs carrying through from where Siwoo was whispering about something with his dragon.
Jungkook was watching me like a hawk, like if he let me out of his sight for just a moment I might die, which greatly staggered his own changing speed – an action he seemed to do almost absent-mindedly as his gaze burned into me, and brought both embarrassment and confusion to the fore-front of my mind.
I attempted to ignore him and stripped down to my undergarments, now suddenly noticing others in similar state of undress messing with the robes all flustered and unsure – not one of them had donned them yet, and I woodenly turned to look towards the general.
She was watching us with disdain in her eyes, like we were all a bunch of bumbling idiots, before she gestured for us to strip – completely. A hush fell over the room as we eyed each other, some flustered and embarrassed, some mistrustful and disgusted. I fell somewhere in-between those two categories, depending on who my eye was on at the moment.
Peacock was also watching me quite closely after the cleansing incident, and my skin was crawling with the idea of him watching my naked body, no matter how his gaze reflected nothing but scorn and arrogance. I definitely wasn’t about to strip right in front of him, and especially not with how Jungkook suddenly seemed much more ruffled and started shuffling to situate himself between me and the rest of the room.
Pointedly I didn’t look at him, willing my wildly beating heart to calm down at the dark look in his eyes – telling myself this is nothing more than instincts – instincts that were triggered by him panicking about my safety that now pushed him into a much more protective stance over his chosen rider. Dragons were like that, and that was all that was happening, nothing more.
“Go on, strip,” the general’s grating voice once again rose in the silence, a sound which I already hated with burning passion, “you’re one unit, soldiers need to learn to share everything – nudity shouldn’t be an issue for you. You’ll have bigger problems to tackle.” Her statement was vaguely ominous, but it was right – when it came to life or death, nudity truly was the least of our problems. Changing, shitting, fucking – once on the battlefield, all illusion of privacy was gone and you’d quickly learn to ignore and accept it.
With that in mind, I decided that getting it over with was the only option here and ripped off the band-aid – almost literally, with how forcefully I tore the undergarments off my body, shocking a little noise out of Jungkook’s throat.
With burning cheeks I quickly put the white robe on, and only turned around once it was safely fastened into place. The dragon was watching me with wide eyes, cheeks similarly red. His hair glistened with the wetness, and it really brought out the purple metallic sheen to it, throwing off little pinkish reflections that danced across the grey marble floor. He was shirtless, hands frozen on the knot fastening his trousers, naked feet standing on the freezing floor without a single sign of feeling the biting cold.
As if woken up from trance, Jungkook suddenly turned back into motion, resuming the action of undressing. He didn’t turn away from me, in fact his eyes didn’t even leave mine, as I saw the split second the garment gave way and started slipping before I shot my gaze up, settling on watching the rough stone ceiling right above his shoulder. I couldn’t see into the room around him, but by the sound it was safe to assume everyone was getting on with the task as well.
After that it didn’t take long before we were all standing around in our white robes, some more cocky and some more unsure, but all stepping around like a bunch of lost children.
Yan let us be for a little bit, let the tension and the unease build in the atmosphere. The only ones who were calm were the older dragons – out of the six of them, I could see another one that must have been young enough to not know what was coming, while the other four stood comfortably by their bonded’s sides.
Jungkook was slipping back into his more jittery self, a little smile playing on his face out of nervousness, though I was sure he knew more about what was to come than me – after all, his thunder would surely tell him what to expect. I wished I had the courage to turn to him and ask, wished I had the chance to speak to him before this all happened so he could share his knowledge.
Wished I could have asked his thunder and have them prepare me too. I wanted to know how it felt – I was scared, foolishly so.
Yan finally had enough, or maybe the time just became right for us to move, but she suddenly launched into a march, motioning us into following her with a single gesture thrown over her shoulder. Somehow we’d ended up at the front, with Hwa and Yong right behind us, as we trudged back up those stairs and down winding hallways in this behemoth of a castle.
As we passed by the banquet hall, it was empty – only scattered chairs and tables full of food and drinks left there, as if everyone disappeared within a blink of an eye and this was all that was left of their presence – and for a split second I found myself wishing that was true.
The truth was that they were already waiting outside, gathered around the sanctuary in silence as we walked barefoot on the cold ground, dirt staining our soles and stones digging into them painfully.
I felt myself shiver, the cold wind whipping around us as we walked around the top of the rocks, and the deafening hum of waves crashing against the cliffs under us almost drowned out everything else. Mixed together with the low murmurs of the townsfolk gathered, it was hard to hear anything else.
The way towards the ceremonial sanctuary was lined with flowers, and had I more time and was in the correct headspace, I’d probably name them all. Currently I was too nervous to even pay too much attention to them.
I never thought I’d say that, but I was so grateful for getting the opportunity to meet the emperor before this, because I couldn’t imagine this being my introduction to him. He stood proudly in the little gazebo, dressed in golden ceremonial robes, face tight and regal and eyes almost burning. If I didn’t know any better, with the backdrop of the stormy darkened skies and the wind whipping around his face, I’d almost say he was magick.
Against my better judgement, a shudder ran through me at the image, a semblance of fear gripping me lightly before I shook it off.
He spoke, but his words didn’t quite reach me – lost to the endless whirlwind of noise around us, though I could hear his voice carrying above the elements. His arm rose, beckoning, fiery gaze locking straight onto me before an ugly grin split his face.
There was a push to my back, and suddenly I realised we still stood at the very front of the procession and therefore were the first in line.
Jungkook was already moving, proudly holding his chin high as he set out towards our fate, and I scrambled to follow after him and to keep up. As the distance shortened, my nerves mounted – not in any particularly bad way, but the anticipation of what this meant coursed through me and made my heart beat out of my chest.
I struggled to read the dragon’s face – I wouldn’t say he was expressionless, but the kind smile he wore every time he looked to me was still plastered to his face as he turned to check I was with him. Jungkook looked no different than he always did. Unbothered, unburdened. I let that anchor me as I jogged to catch up to him.
The emperor’s figure was steadily approaching us, the intricate details of his golden embroidered robe became more visible, much as the expression on his face. It was hard to say what it looked like to others, how much attention they were even paying to him, but something deeply unsettled me about the fire burning in his eyes.
Hungry and expectant. Excited, even.
He watched us with the craze of a proud artist looking at his greatest piece. Like an arsonist gazes at a fire.
I didn’t like it.
My gaze shifted and instead I caught the eye of my father who stood near the front, turned so he could watch me walk. His glare was full of warning, disapprovingly jumping between me and the tenderly smiling Jungkook, and I knew exactly what he’d tell me. It was better to not imagine it.
Thus I pulled my focus back and poured it all into Jungkook. There was an innate pull inside of me to reach for his hand again, yearning for that brief but intense contact, but I hesitated to do so in front of so many people.
It wasn’t unusual to fuck your dragons, but affection? That was deemed beneath us.
As I was going through my internal crisis, I didn’t even notice when we crossed the entire distance until I felt the cold ground under my feet transform into the freezing stone. A shudder ran through me, shocking a little gasp out of my mouth, and immediately Jungkook reeled in on the sound. I could see that his instincts were going into overdrive again, eyes darkening like I could be deathly threatened by stone. The wind was whipping his curly hair around and as usual it was all tangled up into his little horns.
Not wanting a repeat of the cave, I ignored him and instead reluctantly looked to the emperor hoping he’d give us instructions on how to proceed.
The gazebo inside felt a lot smaller than it looked from the outside. There really wasn’t much space to move around, especially not with Jungkook’s mass at my side and the emperor’s wide shoulders at the other, but I guess there wasn’t really much reason to have a lot of space. Exactly in the centre of the circular space stood another basin with water, this one tall and thin with a single leg and a small bowl at the top. The altar.
At least no one could drown me in this one, small victories.
I could tell Jungkook was having the same thoughts, his hard stare boring into the side of it like it was a weapon of mass destruction.
But then my attention was once again snatched by the ruler, who slowly walked around us, to stand in the middle and look out into the yard. Me and Jungkook ended up on either side of the little bowl, looking to each other and hoping for any kind of solace offered with soft smiles on unsure lips.
Suddenly Jungkook was holding his hands above the water, fingers twitching and beckoning me to take them. I hesitated a little, the same thought from before shortly surfacing in my mind, but then I realised this was a part of the ritual. The several bonding ceremonies I witnessed before shuffled through my memory, but I could barely remember anything with how my nerves ate me from inside.
I grasped the dragon’s hands quickly, not wanting to be seen stalling to touch him, especially not when I couldn’t explain myself properly, and he gripped me tightly. There was a lot of reassurance in it, but there wasn’t any time to dwell on it.
The emperor draped a thin long strip of embroidered fabric over our joined hands, reminding me of old marriage ceremonies – and though that was a type of bonding too, it still brought a blush to my face. I kept my gaze pointed down, taking in the practiced graceful movements on the man’s golden hands, getting so lost in the showman gestures I jerked when suddenly his voice boomed right by our side.
“Under the vigilant eyes of the Moon Goddess,” the man spoke with a performative lilt to his voice, letting his head fall back as his arms rose up to the sky dramatically, “we humbly ask for a blessing of this sacred bond.”
A shiver wracked through me, strong enough to have me almost stumbling where I stood, and I felt Jungkook do the same. A string of silver moonlight fell through the roof to right where our hands touched, hidden beneath the ceremonial cloth, and it seemed to heat up – almost like we gave off energy just by being touched by it. The fire spread through my veins, and it was just as pleasant as concerning, always on the edge of pain and pouring through my body so quick it didn’t give me time to catch up.
I gasped for a breath, saw Jungkook’s wild eyes jump to me at the sound, and the moment our eyes met everything went fuzzy. Light was dancing over his skin, running in mesmerising patterns and bringing out the honey tone. His hand twitched, almost crushing my own fingers – and then a wave suddenly rose in me – and I realised the light was manifestation of magick.
“Mind to mind, soul to soul,” the emperor’s voice rose with every word, and I wanted to flinch away from him – because it felt like everything was suddenly amplified, grating at my nerves every time his voice boomed in my already sensitive ringing ears.
“Dagger to fang, sword to claw!” the man was screaming now, the winds beating around us and the crashes of the waves below us creating a cacophony that made me want scream too, and I found myself unable to even open my mouth under the strain of the strange energy flowing through me to Jungkook and back.
I felt him under my skin, felt him flowing through my veins. The scent of a smoky wood, maybe sandalwood or cedar, with a metallic iron-like undertone flooded my senses – I could almost taste gunpowder on my tongue with its fiery heaviness. I didn’t know it yet, but it was the scent I would come to know as Jungkook from then on – as my perception heightened.
“Unite them! Unite them under your divine light!” shouted the man, and light burst in front of my eyes.
For a few moments after that I couldn’t feel anything else than the thrum of Jungkook’s blood while his hands crushed mine in a steel grip as the frantic magickal frenzy circulating through our bodies reached its crescendo. Static hummed in my ears, a high whistling sound cutting through and biting painfully into my already hurting head. Then as soon as it started it was over, like an aftermath of a tornado tearing through your house – when the winds started to settle and all that was left was the wreckage. My sight slowly started coming back – and my breath got caught in my throat.
Jungkook was looking at me with wide eager eyes, the magick still crackling around him with little fizzles of light that made his skin glow golden and his hair look like a black lit halo. I felt myself zero in on the young dragon, a pull so strong I felt it jerk me closer to him and I made a little confused sound. That made him jerk closer in return, and we both barrelled into the stone basin.
Later, when my mind was clear, I’d be embarrassed of that little display we put on, but at the moment I couldn’t comprehend or care about anything beyond the way emotions spilled into me – emotions that weren’t mine, but that screamed excitement and hope and pure bottomless love for everything so strong I stumbled under the force of that.
Then Jungkook was side-stepping the altar and gathering me into his arms, effortlessly pulling me off my feet and marching confidently into the castle leaving a shocked silence behind us.
My mind hurt under the extension of the second soul, and every Jungkook’s thought that jumped into my mind just muddled my brain further. I felt the beat of his heart underlining mine, the pattern of his breaths in my own lungs, everywhere we touched was lit on fire and I burned.
I was dizzy. And the dragon was an excited ball of endless chatter – I’ll help you, I’ll care for you, my bonded, I feel you, I see you, my human, mine, mine, mine – all spilling over into me, and I groaned.
An undetermined amount of time later I was set down on a comfortable sofa, and I immediately lied down. Seconds and minutes spilt into each other, and I wasn’t capable of saying how much time passed, or even how fast it was currently passing. The nausea pulled me to the ground and all my limbs jerked and twitched under the current of energy and magick. I’ve never been subjected to raw power like that before, and I had no idea about the kind of effect bonding souls could have on you. Shouldn’t it have been a happy occasion? Why did I feel like a drunk after a particularly wild all-night bender?
Someone was speaking, but all I could hear was Jungkook’s stuttered breathing, his heartbeat quickening in worry and the sick feeling of his fear poured over onto me. I jerked once, then heaved, then jerked again.
Warm glove-clad hands clasped firmly at my shoulders and I was pulled on my back. Someone ran their hand over my forehead, gathering the wet hair (whether from the cleansing or sweat, I had no idea, and I didn’t particularly care) and giving my cheek a soft caress. The tender gesture was unfamiliar to me, but I found myself sinking into that gentle hand, too instinct driven to worry about propriety.
“Jungkook, calm down,” a deep stable voice said, my attention immediately pulled at the mention of my bonded’s name, “You need to keep your emotions stable, you’re making her sick.” A pained whine was an answer, and I jerked in that tender embrace with the instinct to go and help him put the hurt away. Whoever was holding me though didn’t let me move an inch and firmly pushed me back into the furnishing.
My stomach started rolling again and I was suddenly very aware that a steady current of tears was leaking out of my closed eyes. A soft hush, a hum, and then those tears were being wiped away with a warm cloth, and I untensed.
I could still feel Jungkook’s tumultuous emotions warring in him, I could almost see his tense figure standing over me and watching me with those dark intense eyes, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually look with how everything spun the last time I tried.
Shuffling was heard, more soft whispers that I couldn’t discern and then a burningly hot hand clasped around my naked ankle, sending a wave of electricity through my nervous system. The moment I felt Jungkook’s touch it was like everything bad in me quietened.
“…the strength of the connection… the bond is… they will be very heightened… very, very strong it seems…” words floated in and out of my mind, Namjoon’s deep calming drawl working like magick on me and putting me more at ease, though I could barely comprehend what he was saying. Jungkook was responding with little eager chirps and hums, and that was all I cared about in that moment.
Just as I was about to completely wind down, the doors flew open so hard they hit the wall. Chillingly familiar footsteps marched in, and I didn’t even have to open my eyes to see who it was – I’d recognise that fury anywhere. My father’s booming voice sounded through the room, but I couldn’t discern the words through the new over-powering wave of fear and nausea that hit me, this time fully my own.
Not even those firm hands could hold me down as I jerked to the side and threw up all over the floor. Instead they kept me steady and patted my back, and for the first time in long painful years I felt cared for.
Funny what a little benign touch can do to you, really.
The general’s footsteps walked closer again and then a loud hostile growl sounded through the room, making everyone freeze. Jungkook.
“Keep the mutt in his place, dragon,” the human man said, with such disdain in his voice I felt embarrassed on his behalf.
With considerable effort I pulled my eyes open, and though I was still a little dizzy and looked through a haze of pained tears, at least the world stood still over me. Those firm warm hands turned out to be Hoseok’s, and really I should have known with the ease that came to them when handling a sick person, though the dragon himself was watching me with a deeply troubled expression – a huge contrast to the gentle touch.
Seokjin’s face floated above mine, worry etched into it quite openly to my great surprise, as his gloved hands held a little handkerchief clutched in them. Taehyung was also in my field of vision, the second youngest dragon bending over the backrest of the sofa to look closer at me with deep soulful eyes. I shuddered at the look of boundless empathy in them, and turned quickly to locate my bonded.
Jungkook sat crumpled on the floor by my feet, one hand still firmly clasped over my ankle and looking very unapologetic even as Namjoon’s huge hand gripped the back of his neck and kept him immobile. The thunder leader was kneeling right by him, and he must have previously been trying to comfort him so he wouldn’t make me sicker, but now his attention was fully on my father, and he was not happy.
For some reason my instincts called me to locate the last two dragons of the thunder, and I strained my eyes to search for them before I addressed the elephant in the room. It didn’t take me long, thankfully, since both of them stood just a little away from the scene, closer to the corner of the room (which, I didn’t even recognise where we were in the castle, and I really hoped Jungkook didn’t just blindly run into the first lounge he saw). Jimin stood there with fear written in his eyes, and worry too, but they were trained on Jungkook – as if he was completely oblivious to anything else that was happening in the room. His hands were trembling where he held them, and he was a picture of pure despair. Yoongi looked deceptively calm, but I could see the storm brewing under his skin like little shadows dancing – and for once I wasn’t the one his ire was directed at.
My father stood there in the middle of it all, angry and full of hate, gaze burning into me. I knew he had a lot to say, and I knew he wouldn’t wait to let me hear it. And I knew the dragons wouldn’t leave now, not when Jungkook seemed to be in some sort of instinct driven haze, so I just resigned myself to this happening right now in front of everyone.
“What was that about!?” the general hissed out, shaking with barely contained rage and pointing towards Jungkook who already had a beginning of a scowl on his face before Namjoon grabbed his mouth and covered it with his second hand so that nothing else slipped out. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”
I just blinked at the man and wordlessly tried to push myself into a sitting position even though everything in me protested the notion – especially when it dislodged Jungkook’s hold on me and the dragon jerked and chased any kind of contact. Hoseok didn’t lessen his hold on me, and even pulled my feet closer to him to prevent me from stepping into my own vomit, for which I was endlessly grateful cause I almost managed to hit square into the middle of the puddle.
“Nobody else fucking even blinked! And you make a whole scene?!” the general continued, completely lost in his own world and with face so red he’d blend in perfectly into that awful sitting room the emperor loved so much. “Running out hand in hand like a pair of giggling lovers?! Do you truly wish so hard to embarrass me?! I thought we were over this!”
I pursed my lips and sat there with my head hung low, biding my time knowing well he wasn’t done yet. The dragons seemed to be frozen, casting curious worried glances between me and everyone else in the room, but none of them moved a single inch like they were trying to escape the man’s attention and trick him into forgetting they were there.
From someone who grew up with him – it was a pretty decent strategy when it came to the general’s tantrums.
“I sat there through all other five ceremonies, and everyone walked away on their own two feet! You should have seen the way people snickered and whispered at you! How am I supposed to show my face in the council tomorrow!?”
Then the man started agitatedly walking around the room, hand pressed into his red heated forehead, eyes wild and unseeing. In the moment of silence that followed everyone’s eyes turned to me, curious for my turn.
“How did I wind up with a child like you?” the man muttered suddenly, so vicious I saw Jungkook tremble, and I hoped he wasn’t reacting to the war of emotions currently boiling in my chest.
“Father,” I cut through the tense atmosphere, sensing my opportunity there. I quickly rose to my feet, fighting to stay upright and not lean on Hoseok’s shoulder when a wave of dizziness hit me. The white robe I put on before did nothing to hide me from cold now that all adrenaline drained out of my body, and I started shivering. My father’s eyes speared me right through, and under their careful watch I walked into the middle of the room, still looking only at him.
“Don’t you understand?” I asked softly, not wishing to antagonise him, but trying to play genuineness as long as I could get away with it. I desperately wracked my brain for anything to offer him when the words spoken by Namjoon earlier slammed into me in a quick and sudden revelation, now putting two and two together with my mind clearer and survival instincts pushing to the front. I hated the way my stomach rolled when I realised what I had to do.
“The way me and Jungkook reacted to each other means our bond is exceptionally strong.”
Nervously my eyes shifted to the thunder sitting and standing around the room. All of them cautiously monitored the situation, eyes flitting between me and the volatile angry man still pacing back and forth, looking like a caged tiger about to attack. I saw as Namjoon’s eyes slowly darkened as he caught on what I was saying, and I looked away before it could tear my heart apart.
I swallowed my pride, swallowed my feelings, swallowed the rising bile that my revolting stomach pushed out once more, swallowed my expectations, swallowed my hope, and stood closer to the man to tempt him with the only thing he couldn’t refuse. Power.
“Imagine the potential, father,” I whispered to him, like a siren calling onto his desires, “Imagine the power I will wield with him. I can soar to such heights, father. Gain the emperor’s favour, maybe I could even marry him.” That had the man stopping dead in his tracks.
I knew those words would work on him, because I knew the outlook he held on marriages. I protested against mentions of any arrangements every chance I got, but thankfully with focusing on my military career it wasn’t a topic that was pressing or brought up too often. Insinuating that I would want to marry the emperor though, on my own without him pushing me, those were promises that sounded so sweet to the greedy man. He’d fall for them every time.
In a few steps he was in front of me, firm hand grabbing onto my cheek as he grinned savagely. His touch was meant to serve the same purpose as Hoseok’s earlier, and yet it didn’t hold any of the warmth or tenderness the dragon granted me. His hand was rough with years of labour and fighting, hardened by wielding a sword for most of his life, and it scratched along my face in a way that was deeply unpleasant.
The general’s eyes looked right through me. I could almost see the cogs turning in his head, calculating, planning, counting his gains, and for a moment I felt a biting pang of hurt shoot through my chest knowing that even now, even when I offered him what he wanted from me the most – for our descendants to be of royal blood – he wasn’t really proud of me, not in the way that a parent should. Instead, he thought of himself, always and till the end. I’d always be an afterthought.
Maybe it was because the situation was so volatile, maybe it was because my emotions and my heart felt especially vulnerable after the ceremony and were already running wild, but more than ever I saw how he never thought of us with an ounce of affection, always wielding us like weapons in his chase for power and riches. I always knew, I swore I did. I thought I’d long since passed the days when I hoped for a smile or kind words, that I’ve long given up on caring about his opinions of me – and yet I always found new ways to surprise myself and break my own heart.
Tears sprung up in my eyes as I smiled back at him. I did desperately try to blink them away but my lips still curled in a way so savage and hurt – and he didn’t see me at all.
“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, Y/N,” the man said finally, completely turning the page from his earlier outburst, “I expected nothing less of you than utter greatness.” It’s like he never remembered his earlier words, or maybe cared so little he didn’t understand why they’d sting – always just walking away and leaving you standing there with your heart burnt to crisp. And today was no exception. Without any further words he turned on his heel and without sparing anyone a single glance marched out, so pleased with himself it was hard to watch.
I stood there, in the utter silence he left behind, head hung low in shame as I broke apart for the countless time. I couldn’t bear to see what was written on the dragon’s faces, couldn’t bear to see to lose even the last threads of worry they might have shown me. I couldn’t bear the disappointment, and I couldn’t bear the weight of Jungkook’s wide-eye stare.
My chest burned, but I could barely feel any emotion from his side. I wondered what he felt from me. I hoped nothing.
The fresh, sour adrenaline fizzled out of my system and before I knew it, it was like strings on a marionette were cut and I was stumbling, my knees buckling as if my body abruptly realised it couldn’t operate right now. Just as suddenly the whole world dimmed before my eyes and everything caught up to me, the weight of the emotional toll pulling me to the ground. A sharp zap of pain travelled through me, turning everything to static, and then I was falling as my consciousness slowly slipped away at the edges.
I still hoped, but there was no one to break my fall.
I woke up in the infirmary. The place was mostly unfamiliar to me, but it was unmistakable – if not by the surroundings, then by the heavily herbal scent that clung onto the air and permeated everywhere.
It took a moment for reality to catch up to me as I laid there with cotton-filled head and bleary eyes still glued together by the remnants of sleep. My ears seemingly caught up first because all I could focus on were two nurses whispering gossip to each other in the corner of the room, and I was maybe two minutes into listening about her sister’s cheating husband when I realised I shouldn’t even be able to hear them talk.
That had waking me up pretty quickly, my body freezing over in shock – and the realisation that I heard things no human should be able to hear – like the chatter of four knights under the closed windows, or the slow methodical clinking of someone stirring something in a ceramic cup at the other side of the room. Or the steady breathing of someone sitting right by my side.
When I turned my head to the side to look at the visitor, Jungkook’s eyes were already trained on me – and yes, of course, he would have felt me wake up. He must have been waiting for me to become more aware.
The young dragon sat awkwardly straight in his little wooden chair, looking like there was whole books worth of what he wanted to say, but something prevented him from opening his mouth and talking.
My eyes zeroed in on him, and it was like I was seeing him properly for the first time. I could discern the individual lovably messy strands of his purplish black hair, I could see the little imperfections on his skin, I could see that his eyes actually had little specks of silver in them. He was wringing his hands in his lap, and as soon as my gaze dropped down to his tattooed forearms, I was blown away by the detail and the vivid colouring that I’ve never quite seen like that.
Trying to centre myself and pull my attention back, I closed my eyes without saying anything and instead focused on the warm little ball in my chest that I came to recognise as Jungkook’s side of the bond. Briefly I wondered whether he felt the bond the same way I did. How did it manifest for him?
In my mind I gently caressed that fuzzy happy bundle, and in return I was flooded with the young dragon’s careful enthusiasm and worry. He was keeping himself in check, most probably because he didn’t want to overwhelm me with his emotions again, but there was no trace of the anger, betrayal or mistrust I was fearing.
Opening my eyes again I took one long look at his face and then said: “I hear everything, like… absolutely everything. And I see better too.” Jungkook smiled and eagerly shuffled the chair closer to me to lean in like we were trading secrets.
“After the bond takes hold, your senses sharpen slightly to match the dragon’s,” he explained in a cheery voice, winking quickly when he caught my eye, “at least that’s what Namjoon hyung said.”
I vaguely remembered knowing that and thinking about it earlier, but now the information struggled to come up when I reached for it. After waking up with the bond it felt like everything in my brain got scrambled and reshuffled into different places.
It was like I was someone completely new.
“Which reminds me,” Jungkook jumped back into his cheerful little monologue, tearing me out of my confused musings, “that the hyungs are waiting outside. I should let them know you’re up.” At those words icy cold fear poured through my whole body and I jerked with the panic taking a hold in my heart.
“Jungkook, wait-“ I only got a few words out before I heard the door quietly creak open, two pairs of strong footsteps confidently walking in. My bonded sat on the chair and watched me with increasingly more worry when he started clocking in my state of terror, and I cursed how easy it would be for him to read me now.
The man reached for my hand with an apologetic expression just as Hoseok and Namjoon walked into view and moved straight towards us. My frantic eyes flew over their postures and expressions, but I couldn’t read anything from them – they held themselves perfectly collected – perfectly detached just the right amount.
Hoseok only slightly inclined his head in a greeting and went immediately to the side unoccupied by Jungkook to check on my status. When his gloved hands made contact with my skin, I held my breath nervously. He wasn’t rough by any means, but any warmth those magickal hands held before was now all gone, and it hurt me enough to almost make me cry. Jungkook squeezed my wrist gently but didn’t say anything, and I stayed quiet too. Instead I told myself that this sudden emotional attachment simply came with the bond too and pushed it all away.
The nature dragon worked quickly, skilled fingers flying over my forehead, checking my pulse and hovering over my chest to make sure everything was in working order. After a few minutes of tense silence as we all watched him, he finally stepped back and wordlessly nodded at Namjoon before he turned to me with a strained smile.
“Young Miss Kang,” Namjoon then spoke, taking the first chance he could to draw my attention and say his piece, “there’s been some changes in arrangements.” That sentence alone was enough to scare the absolute shit out of me, and paired with the solemn firm expression on the dragon’s face I was fully expecting him to tell me I was no longer welcome to bond Jungkook.
Namjoon’s next words shocked me though.
“I’ve spoken to your father while you were unconscious. He’s met with the emperor and they decided it would be for the best for you to not move into the barracks like others, but instead stay closer to Jungkook,” he got all out in one breath, like he was trying to prevent me from jumping in. I had a lot of experience with staying silent while others were speaking though, so I just looked at him expectantly whether there was more.
The tall man watched me for a few moments, inquisitive eyes burning through me curiously, before he stepped a little closer to Jungkook to put a hand on his shoulder. The younger dragon immediately relaxed and leaned into his thunder leader, though his hand never left mine, even as I felt his heart stutter with love through my own chest.
God, this was starting to weird me out a little.
“We will be able to vacate you a spot in our house,” Namjoon continued after a moment, considerably slower now that he saw I was willing to just listen quietly, “It’s a bit further away from the castle than your house, but the emperor wishes for you to be as close to the thunder as possible.” Much displeasure flickered through his face, and I frowned.
Why would the emperor insist on something like that? I would understand it if it was just Jungkook, but the whole thunder? I couldn’t even make the case that he didn’t want to separate the youngling from his mated pack, because that would be too considerate of the man and he wasn’t capable of such silly things like empathy.
I watched the three dragons with a heavy heart and quickly realised why the two were being so polite and standoffish. They thought I was under full protection of the emperor and any unkindness that would happen to me would be reported and punished. I sighed deeply and looked towards the tall dragon.
“Autho- I mean, Namjoon-ssi,” I stumbled through the words, throat a little drier and sorer than before the men stepped inside the room, “I couldn’t possibly trespass into your thunder’s house, but I thank you for the invitation. I will personally speak with the emperor and petition for a different solution, so your pack can keep their space uninvaded.” I realised that my words definitely didn’t help my case, but when the relationship between me and the rest of the Bangtan thunder was already so rocky, I couldn’t imagine moving onto their property would make it any better.
The Authority gave me a weary look, suddenly looking way more tired and worn down than I’ve ever seen him, with how the power seemed to sap out of him and his shoulders dropped slightly.
“There’s no need to go through the trouble, Young Miss Kang,” he spoke quietly and gave me a resigned smile, though there was nothing friendly about it – quite the opposite it seemed, actually, “The emperor is set on this, and your father readily agrees. With the strength of the bond, they both want you two close so it can solidify.”
Shame and guilt hit me like a whole mountain fell on me, and I froze with my gaze glued to my lap. There it was, those words. The anger. And because I was a coward, I couldn’t bring myself to raise my eyes and look at the man. Instead I stayed curled in on myself, like the spineless rat they probably thought me to be.
I saw Hoseok’s form squirming to my left and Jungkook sitting still to my right, looking to his leader with a soft disapproving expression, and it was so foreign to his face I wanted to kick myself for putting it there. I shouldn’t be putting him into a position where stood against his thunder.
“Very well then,” I whispered finally, deciding it might be best to just go along and hope for the best, “I’ll need to go gather my things and pack up the essentials, but I could meet you by your house in a few hours.”
“There’s no need,” Namjoon’s rumbly voice spoke up the second I closed my mouth, “Your room at your house has already been packed up and moved by your servants. All of your things are waiting for you in our sitting room.”
My gaze flew up in surprise, and I barely clocked the displeased frown residing on the dragon’s face as he spoke to me. “How long have I slept?”
I turned to Jungkook with the question, but it was Hoseok who chimed in with “a little over two days”. It was the first time I heard his voice in what felt like weeks, so the moment I recognised it I was turning to him with surprise written all over my face. Something flickered in my chest, my mind very unhelpfully supplying the memory of his gentle caress, and I shut that down quickly before Jungkook sniffed it out. Then the words sunk in.
“What?!” I yelped out, jumping to sit upright and scaring the absolute shit out of the nature dragon standing by my side, “More than two days!? I thought it was maybe a few hours!” Namjoon was watching the red-headed dragon clutch his chest and calm down with a soft look, while Jungkook turned to me with his sparkling puppy eyes.
“Hobi-hyung said it’s normal,” he told me, and I could see he was now way prouder that he could go back to taking care of me, which brought a slight blush onto my face.
“No, I said it was understandable for the situation,” Hoseok corrected him when he turned back to the two of us, faced also a little flushed, “Usually when the bond is so heavy when settling down, it requires a lot of peace and care for the person to come out well. It was a really stressful situation, so her body shut down to recalibrate on its own.” He gave me an awkward half-smile and then mumbled something about medicine and high-tailed it out of there, leaving us to our uncomfortable little corner.
As he sped away, there was a clinking sound floating around him, and I realised that he had several charms and beads woven around his antler-like horns that created cheerful little sounds as he moved around, quite literally making music out of the tempo and rhythm of his walk. I found that it fit him very well.
“Peace and care,” I mumbled under my breath as my attention turned back to the conversation. My eyes fell on the silent Jungkook watching me something a little sad in his gaze, and it was so obvious he felt everything I did those two days ago in that cursed little lounge I had to avert my eyes in the face of it.
That at least explained why the dragons had suddenly shown me such gentleness. They were trying to make me well because they knew I needed to calm down.
Ignoring the fact that Jungkook now knew more than I was willing to admit to anyone, I looked towards Namjoon and nodded firmly.
“Okay, I’m ready to go.”
The walk from the castle grounds to the dragons’ townhouse was understandably an incredibly awkward affair. Hoseok silently joined us as we were walking down one of the many hallways, hand clutching a satchel containing something in glass bottles, based on how it rang with every movement. The man paid it no mind though, a faraway look in his eyes while he was clearly lost in thought.
Jungkook refused to let go of me, and because I couldn’t bear the weight of holding hands I let him loosely hold onto my wrist, which he did delicately with three of his fingers wrapped around the bony part (the better option, really, because he was capable of trying to persuade me to let him carry me). Namjoon walked in front, unapologetic and firm, not sparing us a single glance. He knew we would follow him.
Now having much more time to look around than the last time I visited, this time I truly took the house in. It was a fairly nice one, though definitely felt too small for seven adult men. There was a little courtyard beyond the gates that lead towards the main entrance inside, and another square courtyard sat inside as the heart of the house. There was a tiny one-room house a little ways away from the main building, sitting alone in a corner. Usually servants would inhabit it, but here it surely wasn’t more than a storage room, or a garden shed.
There were three bedrooms in the house – one bigger one, and two considerably smaller. Namjoon, now joined by Jin by his side, led me to the big room and waved me inside. Even as tidy as it was, it still felt completely stuffed with all kinds of things and trinkets and gadgets and columns of books, not even speaking of the clothes that were popping out of any closet space and any chest they had there. It was painfully small to hold everything in.
“This is my, Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s room,” the oldest dragon spoke, surprisingly gently considering his expression was very neutral, “it might take a few hours, but we’ll have it ready for you by the evening, so you can sleep here.” I was opening my mouth before I even fully processed what he just told me.
“Absolutely not,” it came out of my mouth a little harsher than intended in my haste to disagree, and I felt Namjoon’s disapproving gaze even without seeing him, “I mean- This is the biggest room in the house, and three of you live here. I can’t push you out. I’ll think of something, and I can sleep in the sitting room or even the dining area. I won’t force you out of your bedroom.” My words were met with a tense silence, but at least they weren’t protesting – clearly they were against it too, but felt strong-armed into coddling me out of fear I was a spoilt little brat.
Without waiting for them to speak, I turned and walked back down the stairs taking everything in carefully. The other dragons were home too and I could sense them watching me from every corner of the house, but I was too busy trying to find a little corner where I could hide myself away and not throw their whole household into a disarray. Just because my father felt the need to showcase his power and his standing. What a stupid fucking reason to break apart someone’s life for.
As I was walking towards the main entrance again, I passed by the little backyard – and saw the servant house again.
Footsteps shuffled across the floor and then there was a warm presence by my side, so assuming it was Jungkook I asked without turning: “Do you have anything in there?”
“Hobi-hyung has his gardening things there, but otherwise it’s pretty empty.” The deep honey-like voice shocked me to my core, and I swung around only to come face to face with Taehyung and his blueish grey curious eyes. His curly locks fell around his head in what I would call perfect manner, giving him a crown of dark dark crimson around his perfectly sculpted expressionless face.
The dragon’s aura pressed into me full force from all sides as he tilted his head to continue taking me in, and I blushed with having so much of his attention on me. There was something about him that just pulled you in, and no matter how hard you tried it was almost impossible to tear your gaze away from his eyes. Gentle floral scent pushed into my senses and as soon as I noticed it, it was like my muscles turned to soup and I barely stood on my own two feet.
I felt that if he asked, I’d do anything for him.
Then he was shifting away and the pull suddenly lessened, and I realised – it must have been something related to his magick. A cold current of fear ran through me, but I pushed down the need to shudder because I didn’t want to offend him.
Or anyone else, because by that time the whole thunder was gathered around and watching the interaction. I forced myself to ignore their gazes and turned straight to Hoseok.
“Hoseok-ssi, do you think you’d be able to clear it out for me?” The man watched me for a few more seconds before it seemingly caught up to him that I asked him a question, and then he was quickly nodding, already moving towards the garden before Jin’s hand stopped him.
“Absolutely not,” Jin repeated my earlier words, and I’d almost call the expression on his face cheeky if not for the fact that we were everything except people who teased each other fondly. He was about to speak more, but Namjoon jumped in with a very troubled expression.
“That is absolutely not possible, Young Mistress Kang,” he said seriously, voice firm and not inviting any kind of protests, “that would be incredibly inappropriate. We cannot house a young knight and a daughter from a prominent family in an old servant dwelling. The implications-“
“I know, Authority, but it is the least invasive option,” I jumped into his speech, not wanting to let him spiral unnecessarily, “I will explain it to the emperor if I have to. I will tell him it was my choice and that this is the most appropriate way for me to live here. After all, taking away all else, I am an unmarried woman in a house full of young men, those implications aren’t exactly flattering to the general public either.”
Not that I cared about that, but it definitely came in handy during situations like these.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jungkook and Jimin standing side by side blushing at my words, but my attention was quickly snatched by a very disgruntled Namjoon sporting a stormy expression on his face.
“I do not think you understand, Young Mistress,” he spoke with quiet fierceness, and it was the first time I was on the receiving end of such a tone from him, “I don’t think anything you say to the emperor will change much for us.”
Those words did have me stopping in my tracks as they sunk in. I looked to Namjoon again and this time properly took him in – the storm in his eyes, it spoke of experience. Experience of the sovereign’s unfavourable reactions. Experience that no matter what, they will still likely find a reason to punish the thunder.
For the first time I fully realised just what I was playing with here – and what ramifications my behaviour could have for the dragons, even when they didn’t know of my plans. No matter how much I hated my family name and despised my father, I still walked through life with a shield – a shield that would deflect all the shit from me, but splatter it at those around.
There in that moment I felt like such a child, way in over my head. Juggling with others’ lives without understanding how my game could mess them up.
I swiped my hand over my face, sighing deeply into it as it reached my mouth. I walked around the room a little, needing to push all the sudden adrenaline and nervousness somewhere – because I needed to come up with a way to do it as safely as possible for the dragons, and I needed to do it now. Because whether they liked it or not, this thunder’s well-being was now my concern. At least as long as they were unaware of my ulterior motives and couldn’t decide whether they’d like to take the risk or not.
All the seven dragons present watched me aimlessly float through the room, but I felt Namjoon’s gaze especially – my eyes being drawn to him the moment I thought of the Authority. His expression was still pinched, but he seemed to be waiting on me to speak again.
And pathetically the only thing that I could think of was beating the emperor to the punch. Doing what he’d expect and playing him anyway.
“What if I go there right now? Before I move anywhere,” I threw the suggestion into the room, carefully searching for any kind of negative reactions. When none came, I continued. “He’ll want me to come see him anyway. He always asks about everything. I’ll tell him I came straight from the hospital to thank him for his thoughtfulness.” I wasn’t sure if my voice betrayed anything deeper about what I thought of the man on the throne, but I hoped they at least didn’t think I was actually infatuated with him. Though, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that unusual for people to fake their way into the emperor’s favour.
The dragons stood around for a moment, sharing some glances – most probably communicating through their mind link, before Jin turned to me and simply nodded.
“It could work,” the thunder leader admitted quietly, “but you’ll have to mention it as an off-hand comment. That you moved in there because you think it more appropriate.” I didn’t let it show when I solemnly nodded to his words, but I was definitely surprised at the words of advice. Though he most likely did extend them to me only to make sure his loved ones caught the least amount of flack.
I moved towards the main door immediately, feeling Jungkook step right behind me like he was pulled by an invisible string to wherever I moved. On instinct I checked on the still tender and a little strange manifestation of his bond that dwelled deep in my chest, but all I could detect was worry with a pinch of careful joy.
It seemed that Jungkook was also way more nervous than he let on, so I let a pulse of gratefulness through and basked in the explosion of happiness coming from him.
Not paying attention to anything else than the playful feeling of Jungkook’s beating heart, I almost walked straight into a very unimpressed Namjoon who stood and waited by the main entrance already, looking at me in a manner that I’d definitely call disapproving. Realising I must have been just walking blindly smiling to myself like an idiot, I thought that was probably fair and let it go with slightly pink embarrassed cheeks.
Jungkook was suddenly acting like he turned into an adhesive, always plastered to me or standing just mere centimetres to me, so the moment we stepped out and begun our walk straight back to the castle for the second time that day, his warmth boring into my side was a constant reminder of his presence, together with the pulses of the never silent bond.
Namjoon didn’t look very happy, but even after I searched through my mind, I couldn’t recall a time I saw him calm or truly neutral – he was always tinged with something more, something not very positive, always on the edge of some sort of an abyss that only he knew of and understood. He worried me a lot – because how does one win the trust of a dragon like that? He probably knew all the reasons why he shouldn’t let a human near his thunder, after all that was definitely why Yoongi refused to spare a single glance in my direction too.
‘There’s no reason to worry, I’ll be there with you’. The voice burst in seemingly from inside me, echoing through my mind like a wayward thought, and I flinched in surprise. If I immediately didn’t recognise it as Jungkook’s sweet mellow voice, I’d have thought I had really gone crazy. Instead I outwardly stuttered a little, instinctively wanting to reply with words, which drew Namjoon’s attention. He didn’t turn to me, as he walked in front, but I saw his shoulders move in a slow roll signalling he was now listening to what was happening behind.
I sent a few thoughts out, hoping any of them would reach across the little string tying us together (like throwing mud at a stone wall and hoping that it sticks, more like), but when there continued to be no response, I realised none of them landed.
I turned as much of my attention to it as I could and focused hard, imagining the string as a rope instead – holding onto it as tight as possible and sending a sentence across like a little bird.
‘Stop spying on me’. I had meant to chastise him, but that definitely sounded a lot whinier than I anticipated, which was confirmed when little melodious giggles bounced around my mind in response. I felt my tense muscles ease at the sound, a smile unconsciously tugging at my lips too.
‘Stop being a walking cloud of doom, then’, came Jungkook’s words – and even though he meant them in joke, I still couldn’t help the painful tug at my heart that elicited. Immediately the bitter taste of guilt and regret flooded me, smelling like burnt wood and damp stone. I grew dizzy for a moment and stumbled gently, righting myself almost instantly. The constant up and down of someone else’s emotions was draining me – not to mention my own seemed to uncharacteristically volatile too, and suddenly I found myself dragging my feet more than before, feeling a heavy weight set into my shoulders.
This whole matter was turning more difficult with each day, and so far I’ve actually only been awake for a couple of hours.
Something must have given us away, because it finally caught Namjoon’s attention enough to intervene, and the golden eyed dragon slowed down to walk next to his youngest mate, grasping his shoulder so softly with such care it tanked my mood even further. The onslaught of negative emotions lessened, and only then I caught onto the fact that he was monitoring our interaction through Jungkook this whole time exactly to help out with situations like this.
I felt like a hormonal teenager, every minute going through a different emotion and trying to stabilise myself while everything constantly turned and danced around me, making me dizzy. The cloud of shame and sadness hung over me, and I desperately tried to reel it in as to not drag my bonded down with me, further making me feel like I was losing my mind.
In the split second a wild thought slipped through – that maybe this was all wrong, maybe trying to be closer to Jungkook was a bad idea, because in that moment I wanted nothing more than to turn around and run away from his tender open heart, nothing more than to shut it all out and not feel anything anymore, to tear that bond out of my chest and walk away.
I shunned it as quickly as it appeared, but the damage was done it seemed.
A pang of hurt shot through me hard enough to almost make me keel over – I grunted and fought to bring back my balance – and then there was nothing. Suddenly in the absence of the constant hum of another soul, I felt so terrifyingly empty I almost cried out.
When I realised what happened, I just pushed myself to continue walking and shut it out, ignoring everything in me that screamed to check on the dragon – even as I found myself strangely off kilter, like I suddenly lost a limb.
This was a damn mess, and all I really wanted in that moment was to pass out again and sleep for a whole month.
The rest of the walk was quiet and awkward, the two dragons keeping to themselves a few steps behind me while I trudged on feeling like an exposed nerve, a bleeding open wound, and the biggest piece of shit on this side of the continent.
Never thought I’d see the emperor’s lounge and let out a huge sigh of relief, but by the moment I realised we were almost by the ruby saloon I was so ready for it to be done I basically sprinted towards it. It was a bit of a gamble, just showing up here and hoping for the best, but the two times I saw the sovereign, it was always here so I figured it might be my best bet.
The stripes guarding the door took a single look at our group and one immediately slipped inside with a gentle knock. That was a good sign. The second guard didn’t really spare us any more attention, so we just stood there and waited to be let it, shuffling on our feet nervously.
Like it so often happened, my thoughts started racing around my head the instant I was left with no outward impulse to focus on, speeding around my brain and painfully bouncing off the walls. The whole scene during the bonding, especially my father screaming at me in front of the whole thunder, the feeling of embarrassment at being seen that way, the hurt and betrayal of his lack of care, the fact that the dragons now likely thought I was as much of an enemy as possible, the weight of the new bond and the wildness of my own emotions for the past few hours (days?), the emperor’s expectations and fearing the kind of game he wanted to play with me and the thunder, it all crashed into me in one moment of anxiety and despair. My heart quivered, and my knees and hands shook. All I could do was to force myself to stand there quietly instead of nervously pacing around like a madman.
I was terrified. I wanted to talk to someone, but I couldn’t – those who would understand still thought me an enemy, and those who were friendly didn’t have to understand.
Desperately I wanted to curl into a ball and hide away, I wanted to stand tall and I wanted to crumble, I wanted to fight and I wanted to run. I was closer to the hazy unpolished idea of rebellion I thought of when I was still a stubborn child, and yet I felt weaker and more incompetent than ever.
Everything that could go wrong weighted on me, all I still had to do and accomplish weighted on me, my own shortcomings and faults weighted on me. It was too much.
But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t give up, even if I died. I had to try.
The door opened very suddenly and tore me out of my troubled thoughts, the knight stepping out and wordlessly gesturing for me to come in. I took one last deep breath to stabilise myself and moved to enter when the guard abruptly shifted forward and threw out an arm.
“No dragons,” he said in a monotone, expression not changing an inch, and I turned around to see both their figures frozen mid step. The awkwardness that hung between us hit me full force again, and I only offered them a tight-lipped smile with a nod before I disappeared inside.
Perhaps not realising how late in the evening it was, I was shocked to see the emperor sitting alone in a completely empty room. Unlike the first time I was brought here with my father, the man was sitting leisurely on his golden red sofa and his eyes were already boring into me with a burning curiosity.
Kicking myself to remember all the proper pleasantries, I stepped to the edge of the carpet and went down to kneel, touching my head to the floor in the politest bow one could make. Squirming under his attention, I swallowed everything down and played my part.
“Greetings, our empire,” my voice was slightly muffled by being bent over like this and I spoke more into the ground than to the man, but I didn’t doubt he heard me – and even if he didn’t, he must have been greeted this way million times by now, “thank you for accepting my humble request for an audience.”
When I straightened again, there was that sleazy smile on the young man’s face I’ve seen a couple times before. I forced down the shudder of disgust that desperately wanted to run through me and took my time to curl my lips into a smile instead. To my boundless shock, instead of sending me to sit at one of the lower set sofas, the man gestured for me to join him on his little platform.
That… felt like a test. A test that could possibly have terrible consequences.
Standing up to my feet, I hesitated. I tried to guess what he wanted me to do from his face, but his expression was frozen in that same cunning grin. When maybe a minute of tense silence sped by, I finally took the step up towards him, and his smile melted into a satisfied smirk. I hated that so much.
Hesitantly and as slowly as I could I walked over to the other end of the sofa he currently occupied and sat down, watching his body language the whole time and trying to discern when I pushed a limit or crossed a line. Nothing happened though, and the young sovereign instead leant forward to offer me a cup of tea.
I took it wordlessly, almost on instinct, still too shocked to really comprehend what was happening here.
“Y/N, I am very pleased with your visit,” he started in a silken smooth voice. I imagined it worked quite well on people, especially women desperate to be noticed by the most powerful man in the empire, but I just felt my skin crawl with disgust. “I was hoping you’d come speak to me about how the situation is going forward.” I plastered a hopefully grateful smile on my face, pretended to be a little shy to avoid looking at him directly. He unsettled me, a lot. But if he wanted to do it this way, I’d match his energy word for word.
“I came to thank you, your majesty,” I spoke softly, just like a polite well-mannered noble daughter would, “I am very grateful for your special request to accommodate me.” I was thinking what more to say, but the man was already opening his mouth to speak more, so I let him. He clearly liked the sound of his own voice, so why ruin it for him?
“A bond like yours deserves special attention,” the honey in his voice was grating on my nerves, so I just played with my cup of tea and timidly sipped on it to stop myself from scowling, “It doesn’t happen very often. I admit, at first I found your behaviour during the ceremony very strange, but when General Kang and the fire dragon came to explain it I thought it was the most exciting news.”
The man fully turned to me and I was forced to look at him, since he clearly commanded my attention. The flickering light of the magick lamps brought out the shadows in his eyes, making him seem like an eager predator when he leant towards me with a sharp smile full of teeth.
“I’d like you to keep me updated on how your relationship with the thunder goes,” his voice turned almost too sweetly and tender, confirming he thought me to be an empty-headed young girl yearning for his approval, so I took it in stride. At least I didn’t really have to fear of going too far with him, he must have been used to people trying to sleaze their way into his favour.
Coyly I tucked some of my unruly hair behind my ear, trying my best to gaze at him with eyes full of stars. My stomach rolled, and my heart beat so fast I was worried I might throw up right into his lap, but I held myself together with the last pieces of sanity I had left.
“It would be my honour, your majesty,” it was all pointless pandering, but the emperor seemed to buy I was genuinely doing that – his expression stayed the same, it didn’t flicker with annoyance or disgust, it didn’t light up, he watched me with the same calculative eyes. I hoped he didn’t see the same mirrored in mine. Or if he did, I hoped he thought I was after a ring on my finger and nothing more.
What else could a woman want, after all.
His strange obsession over me getting closer to the whole thunder also wasn’t lost on me, and as unusual as that was, I had an inkling he’d soon start revealing more of his cards. He clearly had a goal in mind – I saw it all there in him, in the way he watched me. He wouldn’t wait forever for it to be realised, he’d hint at what he expected me to do sooner rather than later.
“As you granted me, I have already moved into the house,” I spoke again after a momentary lull in conversation, keeping my voice sweet and soft, “I took the old servant dwelling, as it of course isn’t appropriate for a young unmarried woman to live with a group of male dragons.” Making sure to put the emphasis on the words young and unmarried, I kept an eye on his reaction, almost holding my breath.
Come on, buy it, don’t ask questions please!!
A shadow passed over his eyes momentarily, but then he was politely chuckling along. “Well, of course, I didn’t even think of that,” he said smoothly, and something in his posture just didn’t seem quite right to me, “How very silly of me, of course a young noblewoman shouldn’t be sharing living quarters with such unruly characters. Dragons cannot be trusted in these matters, after all – they’re wild beasts.”
The smile I kept on my face with sheer force of will twitched at those words, but I immediately leant in to agree, thanking him of thinking of my virtue. For the first time since I walked in the man seemed a little off, and as I watched him he almost looked upset about me not living closer to them. Like he was fully expecting me to just move straight into Jungkook’s room.
Wait a minute.
Every thought in my head screeched to a halt. Could it be that people truly believed we were entangled as more than just a rider and his dragon? Did he think he was doing me a favour with this? We’ve known each other for barely a little over a week, and almost three of those days I lay unconscious in the infirmary!
This time when the sovereign smiled at me, I didn’t even have to fake being a blushing mess, because what the actual fuck. God, what a mess.
“The others have already reported to your superior at the Academy, so I suggest you do that first thing tomorrow morning,” he continued talking, not caring for my embarrassed silence at all, “This year’s novices are in the care of General Wang, so seek him out in the barracks. He’ll give you your uniform and show you around. Tell him they’re my orders, special for the youngest Kang.” A sly grin made itself home on his thin lips, and I felt the hair at the back of my neck rise. He wanted me to swoon, but I couldn’t force myself to sell that properly.
Bowing as much as I could while sitting, I told him in response: “Once again, I offer my humble thanks, your majesty.”
A hand suddenly grasped mine, making me flinch slightly. The emperor chuckled at my reaction, chalking it up to being shy around him, and his grip on me tightened as he leant forward, until all I saw was his beautiful cold face and fiery cruel eyes.
“No need for such formalities between the two of us, please do call me by my name when it’s just us,” the words were whispered almost coquettishly, and for few terrifying moments I feared he might actually be interested in fucking me to get something out of keeping me loyal, “Not many have the honour to do that.”
Keeping my eyes lowered, I felt the pressure behind them, lips almost twisting in a grimace as I simply whispered back “if your majesty insists…”. His hand was still tightly holding mine, and he was so close that when he chuckled this time I felt it hitting my skin.
“Not your majesty,” he playfully chided me, and his skin on mine felt both scalding hot and freezing cold, making me shudder. The instinct to tear out of his hold and put space between us almost made me jerk away. With deep breaths I grounded myself and went along. It was revolting, truly revolting – his touch felt like the worst kind of a brand.
“Yes, K-Kangdae-ssi…” it was hard to get the name through my lips, like every cell in my body knew it was forbidden, but the man let out a pleased hum and finally pulled away. The moment his oppressing aura shifted back, it was like a boulder fell off my shoulders and I straightened in relief.
Yi Kangdae. It was a name everyone in the country knew, but no one said out loud. It was etched into murals around the castle, written into history books and documents, carved into despair and calamities, branded onto his loyal followers. It was left behind in bloody wounds of fallen soldiers and cried out in prayers of grieving mothers and wives. Just like the names of his father, and his father before, and his father before.
It carried a weight with it that had nothing to do with his position of power, and it tasted like ash on my tongue.
The man himself sat unbothered on his half of the sofa we shared and watched me with a sort of lazy satisfaction, like someone that knew whatever they wanted they would get.
“Isn’t that much more comfortable, Y/N-ssi?” he taunts again, darkness spilling into his gaze as if he was subtly warning me, so I quickly bent to his will. Nodding and smiling, playing, acting, selling.
“We’ll see each other a lot anyway,” were his final words, an order hidden between them. Bow to me, worship me, obey me. So I did.
When his hand gestured that I was free to go, I stood up and bowed to him again, keeping myself at ninety degrees for a few moments before I rose again. An acidic lump sat at the bottom of my stomach, searing through the sensitive tissue.
In a daze I walked back, only to be stopped by his voice once I was by the door.
“Y/N. Call in the fire dragon, I want to speak with him.” I half turned with an unsure smile on my face, doing a quick bow once more before walking out.
My stomach was boiling with nervosity as I saw the two dragons leaning on a windowsill directly across the door. Both of them had sombre expressions on their faces and both of them jerked in my direction when they heard the door open and close. Jungkook’s youthful face wasn’t made for the frown that resided on it currently. It felt wrong for him to be anything but his usual happy self, and I couldn’t help myself and beat myself up once again for being so harsh earlier.
His bond was still dead and quiet in my chest, and now that I saw him again I was poignantly aware of the missing piece – of the black empty hole consuming me from the inside.
Before either of the dragons could say anything, I gestured to the door with a troubled look on my face.
“Namjoon-ssi, his majesty wishes to speak to you..” I surprised myself that the words weren’t spoken in a whisper, but they came out wobbly nonetheless – not that the dragon commented on that. He simply nodded and without a word walked to the door, disappearing inside instantly.
When I was left standing there alone with Jungkook, only the stripes guards tensely standing by the entrance into the lounge, I found myself squirming and shuffling from foot to foot. The young dragon’s gaze was trained on me, almost sheepish, as if he feared I wouldn’t take kindly to his attention. Unsure of where he stood now, after what he must have perceived as a sort of a rejection. Giving myself one last mental slap I walked towards him, slinking in like a misbehaving dog.
I felt the questions in his gaze when I leant on the cold stone closer to him than necessary, ignoring all that empty space left behind by the huge fire dragon. I came as close as I could without brushing our arms together, but it was enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him. I found myself enveloped in a heavy scent of burning wood and stone and metal, for the first time taking the time to realise that it was Jungkook’s natural smell – something I had no chance of catching onto before the bonding, but now so aware of it I felt singed with it. He smelt like smoky sandalwood, iron and gunpowder – powerful and heavy, but with a calming tone. It rushed through my lungs like opium smoke, pulling me into a haze like I’ve never felt before.
The gravity of the discovery instinctively pulled me closer until my nose almost bumped into the bewildered dragon’s shoulder so I could take a closer sniff, and with embarrassment colouring my cheeks red I jerked back.
Clearing my throat, I sat straight and kneaded my hands on my thighs to get rid of the sweaty clammy feel.
“Sorry,” I muttered quietly, taking the chance to send an apologetic smile to the dragon, and catching his shy but sparkling eyes. He still hesitated on whether to get close or not, lips pulled down at the corners with emotion only he felt, now that his side of the bond shut down.
“Don’t worry about it,” came his hushed response, though more eager than mine, “your scent is heightened too, now.”
“Oh,” well, that certainly caught my attention, and I turned to him fully, “and what do I smell like?”
He pursed his lips for a moment, the cogs in his head turning so obviously I almost laughed at him as he attempted to come up with a good analogy.
“I don’t really know, haven’t figured it out yet,” the dragon finally admitted, “it changes a lot, but it’s really earthy with a hint of flowers. Maybe like a freshly dug flower bed?”
That was… peculiar. Dirt and flowers? I guess it was quite fitting, but still – not very a ladylike scent, was it?
“Wait… what do you mean it changes? Do I smell differently each day?” I inquired more, trying to subtly take a whiff of my own body odour, but I didn’t really smell anything special. I smelled like the hospital I woke up in, and there was a residue of a sharp tang of magick on me that smelled vaguely like damp moss. That must have been Hoseok. My clothes smelled clean but slept in. Nothing more.
“You can’t really smell your own scent, not like this at least,” Jungkook chuckled as he watched me, “and technically yes, scent changes – but not drastically. It’s usually about the emotions. The heavier the emotion, the heavier the scent. Usually.” I blushed and stopped sniffing my own arms like a maniac, and instead leant in to Jungkook again.
And he was right – this time his scent was much more mellow, more like sandalwood incense with sharp metallic undertones. It was a fascinating mix, so much so that the red hue on my cheeks was now solely due to that.
“When can you smell your own scent?” I tried to distract both of us from my own flustered state, so I inquired more. Jungkook still giggled at me though, and mischief glinted in his eyes – and they were so alive, it robbed me of my breath.
“Uh… well- certain emotions are bigger and stronger than others,” the young dragon started talking, hand on his chin like he was a philosopher, eyebrows pinched together as he seemed to be deliberating on how to present this information to me, though everything about him felt a touch too whimsical to take seriously, “you know, like anger. You can smell your anger, because your scent starts like… soaking into the air around you, I guess? It becomes really heavy and tangible for everyone, basically.”
I hummed in answer, nodding along as what he told me slowly sunk in. We both leant back into the cold stone windowsill, now more comfortable than before – like the ice has been broken with this simple small talk. Jungkook was too forgiving, truly. With my heart squeezing painfully in my chest, I thought to myself that if I didn’t mention the earlier upset, he’d probably just let it go and act normally when I did too.
And that was absolutely unacceptable.
Namjoon was still inside with the emperor, though to us it no doubt felt much longer than it truly was, and the hallway was empty – safe for those two guards. I’d feel too uncomfortable trying to talk this out with him in front of others, not only because I didn’t like the idea of them hearing me discuss such a vulnerable thing with someone, but also because gossip spread like fire and I didn’t want people to start talking even more about the friendship I’d like to start building with him. It wasn’t really customary for humans to be so sweet with dragons, and it drew too much attention when someone broke that unspoken rule. There were already too many eyes on us due to my family’s name, the Bangtan name and the emperor’s involvement, and for now it’d be easier and safer to try and fly under the radar (no pun intended).
So with that in mind I squirmed on my spot to dispel the unpleasant feeling of cold stone seeping into my robes, and reached out to the link binding us together again. It was still too quiet inside me, and no matter how Jungkook’s constant chatter of emotions and thought overwhelmed me at times, in those few hours I’ve had the bond it already sunk its roots into the deepest parts of me.
Now that I knew what rhythm Jungkook’s heart beat to, the absence was even more obviously felt.
The string hummed and quivered under my careful attention, a bit of hopeful warmth spreading in. The dragon shuffled in surprise, but other than turning to me to give me a shy smile he didn’t acknowledge me reaching out to him.
‘Jungkook’. The thought was so loud and clear in my mind, that I’d never doubt it’s ability to cross over, but the slight blush on the man’s face was a nice sign too. ‘I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for before’.
I was given a beautiful blinding smile in return, so bright I felt like I was standing in that gazebo soaking in the moon’s blessed light again. In a swirl the full force of the bond swooped in, million thoughts going around our minds as we shared a conspiratory smile.
‘There’s nothing to apologise for’, came Jungkook’s response, the thought beating to the forefront with the tenacity of his strong heart. I was just about to shake my head when he continued. ‘The hyungs keep telling me I’m overwhelming you, I should be the one saying sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you in your mind without a warning’.
My heart squeezed at his earnestness, and I couldn’t quite stop myself from reaching out and grabbing onto his arm gently.
‘No, Jungkook. It’s just… It will take time for me to get used to someone else sensing all of my thoughts and emotions. I’ve never been this open to anyone. I was just… scared’. And Jungkook, as open and easy-going as always, accepted what I offered with no questions asked. It was almost scary how eager he was when it came to any kind of love and affection, and for the first time I fully understood the thunder’s desperate need to shelter him away from all of this. From me, and from the emperor.
‘I don’t even remember what it’s like to not hear and feel my mates, but I understand it’s new to you. Don’t worry Y/N, we’ll get through this together – us, with the thunder.’ I hoped I managed to hide away the note of sourness that tinged my emotions at his boundless optimism, but I had the inkling that he wouldn’t care either way.
Jungkook just seemed like a person that willed things into existence – he expected them to happen a certain way, so of course they would. In the time I’ve known him (and it felt like ages already), he hasn’t expressed a single doubt about any of his ideas not realising in the end.
He wanted me and the thunder to be friendly, a big family, so it would end up coming true – wouldn’t it?
It was quite charming, to tell the truth. He had a way of swaying you into believing it too, like his enthusiasm was irresistibly contagious.
When I failed to respond to him, the dragon took it as a sign to continue soothing my frayed nerves. ‘You’ll come to enjoy the feeling of having the bond with you. And I promise – I never want to pry into you, nor make you uncomfortable, but the bond is there so we can rely on each other. Rely on me. Trust our instincts.’
Our instincts. There was something so incredibly straightforward and simple about that. Us. For me, there’s never been an us. Maybe when I was younger, but that was long gone.
Jungkook had no reason to manipulate me or betray me, but his presence in the deepest parts of my psyche still unnerved me. I’ve never realised the bond would be quite so encompassing – not to the point where I almost felt his life force running through my veins and my chest ached when I couldn’t sense him. And it was just mere hours!
‘Okay. But you need to teach me how to keep my bond under control too. I must be wrecking you too.’
To that Jungkook gave me a toothy grin and bumped our shoulders together. The amicable contact sent a flurry of embers through my body, something heavy flickering in and out of existence in my chest before all at once a soothing calm settled over me.
“W-What is that?” I stuttered out in surprise, cheeks a soft pink colour. The shock of the pleasant sensation pushed me out of our telepathic communication and pushed the words straight out of my mouth.
At least Jungkook was looking similarly flushed, grin lopsided and cheeky but with a bit of shyness. “Hyungs mentioned…,” he started, squirming in his place a little bit, “physical contact helps settle the bond.”
Just like before my interest was piqued – after all, I didn’t know much about the inner workings of the bonds, but just as I was about to open my mouth and fire more questions out, the ruby saloon’s door opened and Namjoon walked out. He looked tired, holding himself straight but with a heavy weight on his shoulders, constantly pulling him down. He took one single look at the two of us sitting close, cheeks rosy, and a very brief flash of something pained crossed his eyes.
I jerked under the load of that, but even then I couldn’t find it in myself to unstick from the young dragon – like everything in me was protesting even the mere idea of being separated from my bonded.
The fire dragon only sighed and slowly trudged towards us before gesturing with his chin to leave. So we did.
Namjoon went first, as he always did, and me and Jungkook fell into a comfortable pace behind him, arms linked at our elbows. The little fuzzy warm ball of light was serenely floating around inside me, almost like a napping lounging cat lazing in the afternoon sun. When I reached in to lightly caress it, it responded with a burst of peaceful hum – the bond hasn’t been this calm in my chest since I woke up – even since it took hold in me.
I still felt Jungkook’s consciousness gently probing along the edges of mind, and even though I could sense my metaphorical hackles of discomfort rising in alarm, our cores buzzed in harmony and felt too tranquil for me to panic too much about it.
‘Jungkook.’ The dragon looked to me questioningly, but inclined his head to signal he was listening.
‘Please promise me, that whatever you feel or see inside me, you won’t ask questions.’
‘Why?’ His gaze was warm and curious, gently inquisitive – youthful. But then it melted away into understanding. ‘I’ll promise not to ask, if you promise you’ll tell me when it’s time to know.’
Namjoon’s tense form moved steadily forward in front of us, shoulders almost all the way up to his ears, and I wondered whether he was monitoring Jungkook’s emotions again. And if he did, I wondered how he felt about the amusement that flooded me when he heard my soft snickering.
‘Fine, that’s unfortunately fair.’
The moment I looked to the side my good spirits evaporated within a moment though. Jungkook immediately pulled me closer to himself, and I could imagine his vigilant gaze tracking across our surroundings, ready to pinpoint any kind of danger I could be reacting to.
That wasn’t what had me on pins and needles though.
We’ve walked over to the side of the castle that left behind dark towering halls and corridors, and opened up into more stone and flower decorated courtyards with roofed walkways. This part was closer to the barracks and the Academy grounds, and scholars and councilmen gave way to uniform-clad knights.
And there, as we were passing by towards the castle gates closer to the dragons’ house, a group of Academy students was walking through the courtyard on the opposite side to us. Their affiliation was very clear even without any other clues – their dark cheolliks embroidered with the likeness of a dragon beast and tied with greenish blue sashes – but I still wouldn’t be able to not recognise the ever so smug smirking man by one of the knights’ sides.
Fucking Peacock.
I didn’t recognise the rest of the students, but they sure did recognise me. The moment they saw me and Jungkook walking arm in arm with Namjoon leading the way, their faces scrunched up in a rich variable of emotions. I saw distaste and envy. I saw mockery. The usual mixture.
My classmate was speaking to a knightess I’ve never seen before, but based on their uniforms they must have been some of the upperclassmen. Those two were leaning close together, their shiny hostile eyes trained onto our moving forms, lips curled into snide smirks.
I’ve long since realised that the only way to get through situations like this was to ignore everything, so I just turned back to my companions ready to leave this behind us. What other people thought of me and what rumours they spread around about me was of no concern to me, and I didn’t care one bit about it.
The dragons seemed to have a different idea though. When I looked back towards them, I saw that even Namjoon’s gaze was locked on the now snickering students as they kept walking away from us. As I could have predicted, Jungkook’s face was coloured with anger and displeasure, but why Namjoon looked so disgruntled was beyond me.
The golden dragon’s ears were twitching, like he was used to them having a different shape, and I realised he most likely heard their conversation.
Which meant… there was a chance I could hear them too.
I wasn’t fully sure what to do – I did remember having heightened senses overwhelmed me slightly in the infirmary, but since then it was like everything went back to normal. Thankfully, our pace slowed down considerably due to the distraction, so I had the mental capacity to really lean into it and focus as hard as I could on trying to catch their venomous whispers.
“…riding too seriously…” A bout of giggles disrupted the sentence and I got lost again. With how quickly they were heading in the other direction, it was harder to listen in.
“…daddy gets his princess what she wants…” There was more laughter, and I rolled my eyes. As if I haven’t heard that one thousand times before. If they only fucking knew what my father was like.
“Didn’t expect her to spread her legs for the whole thunder-“ And with that they rounded the corner and disappeared deeper into the gardens, presumably in the direction of either the barracks or the training grounds.
I looked towards Namjoon with flaming cheeks, but the dragon just seemed very displeased. Even Jungkook looked more angry than embarrassed, which I wasn’t expecting.
For the rest of the journey back to the house no one said anything. I wondered whether Namjoon, now freshly discovering this very unpleasant side-effect of being associated with our family, regretted everything even more. I wondered what Jungkook thought of such rumours being spread around about his loved ones, but he himself gave me no more signs of anything being wrong – didn’t let go of my arm, didn’t shut off his bond again, and didn’t let through even a sliver of displeasure.
The second dinner I’ve had at the dragons’ house was no less uncomfortable and tense than the first one, but it did seem that some of them were a bit more positively minded towards me.
The moment we returned to the townhouse, me and Jungkook jumped into moving my things into the servant’s house with the help of Hoseok – and surprisingly Taehyung, who insisted on assisting us with anything we’d need.
Somewhere along the way Jungkook wormed his way back into my mind, speaking to me constantly in an eager chirp, chatting off about anything that came to mind. I felt a bit bad for the other two dragons who had to watch us as we silently talked about horses and vegetables and whatever else that came to Jungkook’s mind, but they were likely doing the same thing through their own bond. And, unexpectedly, both of them wore quite genuine smiles on their faces as they hauled boxes and chests filled with my essentials.
I don’t know how exactly it happened, but in the time it took us to settle me into that little room, Jungkook managed to persuade me into tagging along with him in some old forgotten tradition his hyungs told him about long time ago. Understandably, I was quite hesitant at first – the thunder leader still winced whenever ‘Authority’ fell out of my mouth, though he tried to hide it, so I wasn’t quite sure it would exactly be appreciated.
But Jungkook was nothing if not excited and impossible to reject, so I ended up caving in just in time for the dinner to start. Damn his beautiful, wet, sparkling eyes.
Just walk in by my side and kneel to Namjoon hyung, he said as he ran off to help Seokjin with dishes. He’ll welcome you into the thunder. Right.
Yeah, well, easier said than done, now that I was actually walking into the room with the jittery excited Jungkook basically vibrating next to me, seeing the whole thunder sitting around the dinner table on their pillows, in the same order as last time. Their gazes were on us, some confused and questioning, some calm and expecting.
When Jungkook kneeled, it was met with soft and fond looks. When I followed him down, the room suddenly felt colder.
Jin sat straight in his spot, a neutral expression on his face. He didn’t seem neither displeased not appeased. Yoongi on the other hand turned his head away from the display as soon as he realised what we were doing. That one stung. But not as much as Namjoon, who was desperately trying to look anywhere but us without making it immediately obvious to the excited Jungkook. When our eyes met, it almost seemed like it hurt him to even see me.
After that I didn’t gather enough courage to look at the others and instead hung my head down low in a proper bow. A few more moments of silence went by, and judging by Jungkook’s warm purring happiness spilling everywhere out of his core, he didn’t interpret the atmosphere to be quite as tense as I did.
“Thank you, sihe,” finally Namjoon’s voice cut through the room, putting everyone involved out of their misery, “Come take a seat at the table and eat.” The word was unfamiliar to me, though there was no doubt it was draconic. It rolled off the dragon’s tongue smoothly, in his deep voice it almost sounded like a purr, and I could see that Jungkook especially liked to hear his leader call me such; so assuming it wasn’t anything bad, I didn’t pry more.
The young dragon rose from his position to sit at the table, chest puffed out and cheeks rosy with some emotion I couldn’t fully discern. I followed after him, significantly more sluggish and ready to call it a day.
This time around when I sat down next to Taehyung, there was no trace of his previous apprehension. When I looked to him, he smiled and gestured towards the spread of food that smelled absolutely delicious. Seokjin also gave me a polite but warm smile and began eating.
When I reached back towards the memory of the first dinner I spent here, merely a week ago, I couldn’t even remember what it was we ate. Tonight a pot full of hearty stew sat in the middle of the table, and I didn’t even know how much I needed it until the first spoonful hit me and spread the pleasant kind of heavy warmth through my being. By the time I ate a whole bowl, I was ready to curl up and fall asleep right there on the floor by the table.
The dragons kept up a sparse but polite chatter, but unlike the last time I didn’t join in. No one spoke to me, and just for that evening I basked in their insistence on ignoring me. For once I found a bit of relief in not getting their attention – because then it meant I wasn’t actively pissing them off either, and I figured all of us needed a break after everything that’s been happening.
When it was all over, I was just about ready to slink off into my little house and sleep for a whole century. Trying to disappear as inconspicuously as possible, I was promptly stopped by Seokjin’s voice calling my name. He said it so softly I almost missed it, but when I whipped around in surprise the pink-haired man was already gesturing for me to follow after him.
Jungkook was running after Namjoon basically as soon as his spoon dropped from his hand, something proud and eager glinting in his eyes, so I rather left them to it and quietly jogged after the eldest dragon. Seokjin swiftly made his way over into the kitchen, which was still covered in mess from when he cooked – utensils and dishes were laid out everywhere, cutoffs from vegetables were sitting in a bowl on a table, the remaining stew sat in a pot in the middle of the room. A few magickal lanterns were fighting to keep the room alight, the shadows flickering around the room with the dying strands of their energy.
Seokjin danced into the room like a storm, immediately grabbing a basket and strutting right out, leaving me stood there in the middle of the room gaping. Just seconds later Taehyung leisurely walked in, taking slow deliberate steps and watching me with deep icy blue eyes.
I thought back to earlier that afternoon, how his gaze locked me into place and penetrated deep into my soul. How I felt drawn to him, and how I almost choked on his flowery scent. As my gaze slid across the man (much like he did to me), I couldn’t help but ponder what exactly his powers entailed.
Unlike the other dragons, I couldn’t outwardly see any draconic features – except for his blueish grey eyes and ethereal beauty. He didn’t have any scales anywhere like Jimin, didn’t have horns like Hoseok, Jungkook or Yoongi, his eyes didn’t even flash silver or glow like Namjoon’s golden ones did. His gaze was always inquisitive and he didn’t speak much, but somehow had an aura of someone who always knew what you were thinking deep down. Or like you’d want to tell him anyway, no matter what – as long as he wanted it.
It was unsettling. Taehyung was putting me kind of on edge, but he was also one of the two dragons who seemed to want to be friendly with me, so whatever it was I was grateful to him anyway.
Even if it seemed slightly sinister.
Taehyung’s stare felt just as weighted on me as the dragon circled around the room seemingly inconspicuously before his neutral cold exterior melted into a cheeky smile and he took a seat by one of the sliding doors leading out into the yard.
I didn’t really even have the chance to feel the thickness of the silence when the pink dragon waltzed back in, basket now full of dirty dishes. Jimin trailed in behind him, pot of uneaten stew in hands. The water dragon didn’t spare me much but an unsure glance, set the stew down on the floor and with a quick snap of his fingers a wooden basin that Seokjin suddenly pulled out of nowhere started filling with water.
For a split second I got pulled into that dark glistening surface – the darkness and calm I felt during that cleansing, the voice speaking to me, the water filling my lungs and constricting my throat, and Jimin there, looking back at me in the mirror of my mind – and then I pulled back again. I wasn’t insane enough to think the Moon Goddess was going to talk to me through the kitchen dish washing tub. Yet.
But I did discreetly shuffle further away from it with my shaking hands seeking support at one of the wooden tables – not that anyone cared. Taehyung has found himself a bag of potatoes and was peeling them all by himself in his corner, not paying attention to anything else. I heard Seokjin’s half-hearted grumbled complaints with which he was teasing the already walking away Jimin. The tub sat on the floor, the water looking at me with a hungry spark.
“Have you never washed the dishes?” Seokjin’s question came at me half serious, half teasing – I mean, even if he did want to play around, in his mind the chances I ever did anything with my own two hands must have been pretty low. I jerked, whipping my eyes into his warm greyish silver ones. His leathery wings were twitching behind his back, probably dying to spread out more, but the man kept them firmly pressed to himself. “You’re watching it like it’s about to eat you.”
Now I felt Taehyung’s curious eyes on me too, though I still heard him as he worked on the vegetables. In two strides I reached the older dragon’s side and grabbed the washing sponge and lavender smelling soap.
“I did,” I answered him simply, shooting him a quick smile, “Even if I missed it at home – which I didn’t – I went through military.” Seokjin pulled two low wooden stools towards us with a quick flick of his wrist, the furniture flying through air with an elegant arch and landing right under me.
“What, they let the general’s daughter dirty her hands?” the pink dragon teased more, a mischievous smile pulling at his lips. He sat down while I still processed the quick magick he showcased, before I slowly slid down and started on the ceramic bowls. Normally jabs like that were the quickest way to anger me, but for some reason I didn’t mind Seokjin’s light joking tone.
He didn’t seem malicious, just interested. And after the fiasco at the dinner, that was better than I was hoping for.
“Well, everybody has to help around the barracks, though you can buy your way around it,” I admitted freely, knowing there’s no reason to lie about such things (my father would never waste money on me like that anyway, so it’s not like I was ever exempt), “but it’s mostly just a popular way to punish someone for minor misdeeds, as were most of the cleaning duties. I spent a lot of time mopping the floors while on the mother base.” A wry smile made its way on my face, the tenseness in my shoulders melting away as we fell into a rhythm.
“A trouble-maker, huh? No wonder you bonded our Kookie,” Seokjin muttered softly in response, eyes locked on his hands. I honestly wasn’t sure if he expected me to respond – if those words were even aimed at me, but the dragon quickly shook the melancholic expression off and smirked again.
“Had my bouts of misbehaving,” I grumbled back, cheeks pink as the older dragon’s eyes glinted with humour. But then he suddenly turned serious, and all my peace was thrown right out the window Taehyung was sitting by.
“The bowing ceremony, tiichir,” the draconic word rolled off Seokjin’s tongue in a similar purr-like hiss like Namjoon did before, and once again I found myself quite enthralled at the language that was so rarely heard anymore. So enthralled in fact, that I almost forgot to shit bricks at the mention of the ceremony. “Did your teacher teach you that as well?”
“Uhh- no, actually,” the confused answer spilled out of me almost unconsciously. Seokjin’s demeanour was so tranquil, the tone of his voice so conversational, and I realised too late it was most likely on purpose so that I felt comfortable talking to him about things he truly wanted to know. I sighed in disappointment a little, but really – what was there to do?
At least he was nice about it.
“Actually, Jungkook told me about it. He said he knows it from your stories and always wanted to do it with his bonded too.” Seokjin’s eyebrow twitched, but otherwise he stayed perfectly inviting. From the corner the sounds of Taehyung peeling vegetables were the only reminders of his presence.
“I see, so he did.” The older dragon’s tone was almost too kindly, and I had a feeling Jungkook would get a huge dressing down later. Though, good luck trying to scold him when he’s looking at you with those begging eyes and talking about how much he loved it. I fell in the same trap and look where it got me.
“Y/N,” the sudden appearance of my name out of Seokjin’s mouth startled me enough to flinch in my spot, “I will come clean, as I dislike not being straightforward. I have to admit, I’m very curious about your teacher – because I’m very curious about the kind of dragon that spends his summers teaching a random human child olden dragon customs. Are you sure his name is Hwan?”
I just stared at him, hands frozen in my spot, clutching onto a half-washed fork. Based on his body language, he didn’t seem to be angry – he looked quite relaxed actually, and there was an open expression on his face. But something about the way he worded the sentence just rubbed me wrong. Maybe it was because I already got Hwan into trouble once by being a tattle-mouth, but I struggled to let go of my fear that there was still a way I could bring ire on his head, even though I didn’t even know where he currently was. Or if he even lived.
“Based on what he taught you, he could have been a zriha once upon a time, but that would make him quite old,” the pink-haired dragon continued, hands still diligently working in the sudd covered tub not caring at all that mine stopped.
“I-I have no idea what that word means,” I absent-mindedly stuttered out in response, clutching onto the first straw I could catch. A sharp grin that sent goosebumps down my back split the handsome man’s face, and it was the first time I saw him look a touch less polite and friendly.
“It’s not yours to know,” a clear warning laced his cheery voice, so I immediately left it alone.
I looked at him for a moment, at his expectant gaze. At the wings stretching and folding continuously behind his back as he tried to make himself comfortable on the little stool. He was a little too tall for it, I belatedly realised. His wide shoulders almost hid Taehyung from me at this angle, but I still saw the way his eyes turned to me every few seconds, waiting.
“He said his name was Hwan. That’s what he went by and that’s how he introduced himself to me,” I said finally, sighing and forcing my hands back into motion. There weren’t many dishes left and I reached for one of the last plates. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Taehyung frowning, gaze clouded with deep thought.
Seokjin sat still for a few seconds, watching me patiently, and I forced myself to look back until he stared his fill and felt satisfied with my answer. Then he nodded and smiled, his usual kindly way, and got up to start putting away the clean wet dishes.
Even though I squirmed in discomfort in my seat, the atmosphere didn’t change after our conversation. There was no heavy tense silence, no mistrustful or hostile glances. Just Seokjin humming to himself while he flitted around the room, wings fluttering with the movement, and Taehyung staring straight down into my soul with wide interested eyes.
Maybe they knew – that I was lying to them. At that point in time, it didn’t really matter.
Once I was let free of the cleaning duty, I ran away from the room as fast as I could get away without actually sprinting out. The ground floor and the courtyard seemed to be quiet and empty, and I aimlessly wandered around for a few moments, unseeing eyes staring off into space.
Seokjin didn’t seem to be the type to just let things go easily, and seeing as he already brought up Hwan twice, it was safe to assume he’d try it again – until he got an answer that satisfied him. The problem was, I didn’t even know what kind of thing was Hwan embroiled in. It was almost twenty years ago, but even my child eyes could see that he and his bonded were running away from Wuyun as fast as they could.
Seokjin was in the capital at the time. For him it probably felt a lot shorter than two decades, and whatever went down here to make a dragon and his knight run away, he’d probably remember it.
But on the other hand – I chose Bangtan for a reason. I chose them knowing I’d have to come to a point where I’d trust them with anything. And Seokjin did seem like a trustworthy choice. But he also could be hiding an anger at his kin – for indulging an enemy too much, teaching them things they had no business knowing. None of the dragons seemed especially thrilled about me having such knowledge, and I did have to wonder whether Hwan broke some unspoken rule by teaching me things dragons didn’t want humans to know.
Until I was sure of where Seokjin’s curiosity came from, I’d hold onto the information just for a little longer.
I looked back towards the kitchen somewhat wistfully. Maybe I was approaching this whole thing from the wrong angle – maybe Seokjin was the answer when it came to my teacher. He must know details of his exile, he might even know where he fled. He might tell me.
But then I thought back to their pained angry eyes when I kneeled with Jungkook, and the memory stopped me.
All in due time. I swore to rely on Jungkook – and I hoped that would be the first step towards stable ground.
Taehyung found many things interesting. He’s always been like that – for as long as he knew Seokjin hyung, he always called him his curious cub. The hyungs always fed his curiosities with books and trinkets, and stories too. He also knew people found him strange.
Taehyung never chose to speak too much in front of others. His mates knew what he thought and felt through their soulties, and no one else really mattered. No one else had to be privy to what he was doing, or what he was thinking. People tended to believe that an absence of words meant absence of thought, but in reality Taehyung was just tired of constantly explaining himself to people who didn’t really care.
And it’s been centuries since he last found something as interesting as Jungkook’s young bonded.
There used to be times when Taehyung hated his gifts. The hearts and souls of living beings rarely showed anything worth seeing, and more often than not pushed the dragon away. Greed, anger, spite, violence. Walking through the banquets and halls and streets, Taehyung sensed all different mixtures of all different unpleasant things. It made him nauseous. It was all too much.
Jinnie-hyung always told him that he had too much of a gentle heart for this world, but Tae wasn’t sure if that was true. Gentle creatures couldn’t toy with others’ minds the way he could.
Though there were uses for his magick, ones that he learnt to appreciate.
And the moment he saw Jungkook’s bonded, he sensed that there was something different about her soul. Brought up by one of the cruellest men Taehyung’s had the displeasure of meeting, moulded into a soldier since a young age, she should have been steeped in the bitter taste of evil.
And she was, in a way. There was an air of violence around her, but just as much suffering.
Taehyung sensed every lie she told, and yet every time he looked at her, she shined with genuineness. She was shifty and suspicious, and yet every fibre of his being told him he could trust her. He’s never before met such an interesting contradiction.
He understood, of course he did, why his hyungs were so worried about everything, but he knew this human woman was right for Jungkook the moment he sensed her bleeding weeping heart breaking after the ceremony with her father.
And when he looked to the young dragon, he knew that Kookie felt the same way. And Jinnie was beginning to grasp it too.
Taehyung spent several days in fear before he met her for the first time. Everyone around him was so shaken, and their turbulent emotions pressed in on him in a way that suffocated him until he choked on the thick rivulets of their dread. During that time he tried consulting the Moon several times, but no visions of her future came to him, and that only spiralled him further.
When She refused him guidance, that’s how Taehyung knew something serious was unfolding right before his eyes. His Wol had humour like that, always gently tugging him along a trail of breadcrumbs but never revealing too much. She liked to see him try.
Taehyung had come to see it as having to prove himself worthy of his gifts – after all, she did bless him with magick heavy and dangerous. It was of utmost importance that he kept his sight clear.
And the first time he did see her, it truly was like everything in his inner eye cleared up. The human that everyone feared – a scared girl with a shining heart. No, there wasn’t a reason for the way Hobi hyung’s chest burned with acidic worry, or the way nauseating disgust rolled off of Yoongi hyung.
Minnie came to him four nights in a row, asking whether he’d already seen something, but then he stopped.
Taehyung didn’t tell him that his first vision came in during the night Jungkook spent with his heart quivering sitting next to an unconscious Y/N in the infirmary, and he woke up with such clarity he saw Hobi hyung watching him with a suspicious gaze for the rest of the day.
She would do something glorious, and the Moon wanted him to trust her.
Namjoon sat down in the study with a heavy sigh, looking at the table buried under mountains of papers, scrolls and old books and wanting nothing more than to bash his head right into it. Yoongi-hyung slinked into the room behind him, but so far the older dragon kept his silence, eyes hazy and far-away.
They ended up sitting there in gloomy silence until Jin-hyung walked in, hands all wrinkly from water, but expression surprisingly relaxed.
“It was Kookie who told her about tiichir, the poor cub was so excited about it he talked her into it,” he said immediately as the door shut behind him and leant against one of the sturdy bookcases.
The two other occupants pursed their lips, but the budding storm died off in their bloodstreams. Namjoon smelled the way Yoongi’s scent evened out, the electric tang dissipating from the room and making it easier to breathe in.
Jungkook had spoken to him just an half hour ago, running after him straight off the dinner table with pride puffing up his chest. Namjoon knew how important it was for the dragon to have a bond with all the proper proceedings, he always hung off of their every word when they spoke of how things used to work before the empire, but he wasn’t sure this was the right person to realise his fantasies with. He just wished the young man was a bit more careful and a bit less trusting.
Namjoon’s protective instincts were flaring up almost constantly these past few days which always left him on edge, pushing him to collect his youngest and pull him away from his foolishness, but the fire dragon himself was quite flabbergasted with Kookie’s behaviour.
Yes, he was someone that approached world and people with the same indiscriminate way of thought. He was friendly, sometimes a little too much. He wanted to trust the best in people, and tended to get a little naïve with certain dragons and young knights. But he’s never been foolish.
Jungkook was the one dragon in the thunder that rivalled Yoongi-hyung’s protectiveness and possessiveness. Those two could get kind of intense when triggered, and they had troubles letting anyone closer to their mates. Jungkook was fiercely competitive, and protected his hoard with almost crazed devotion. He once even bit Taehyung’s leg until it was bleeding because the red dragon thought it would be funny to mess with his gems.
So Namjoon just couldn’t comprehend how he could be so blindly chasing after this bond, completely unquestioningly assimilating this person into their midst and being so happy and satisfied about it. It just didn’t make sense for him.
He caught him almost scenting her outside the emperor’s lounge. That was no light matter.
The dragon sighed again, and this time he did lay his head down forehead first on the hard surface of the dark wood. Yoongi was still eerily quiet, but his heart spoke for him where it wreaked havoc in Namjoon’s own chest.
“The emperor wants us to train her,” Namjoon ended up mumbling. The dark-haired dragon’s head suddenly snapped towards him, as if those were the magic words to bring him out of his stupor.
“What do you mean? Isn’t the Academy there to do that?” Jin-hyung’s remark cut through the stagnant air, “All those teachers and generals there.” The pink-haired man scoffed and leaned back into the furniture.
“She is to attend general classes, but he wants the brunt of her training to be our responsibility,” the thunder leader reiterated, repeating the words he heard earlier that evening from the sovereign himself.
“Why in the hell is he isolating her with us so much?” Yoongi’s question was a valid one, but unfortunately Namjoon didn’t have an answer for it – even though he had an inkling. He only knew that the man was invested in her Qing Long career, and he’d be monitoring their lives very closely.
“Control,” Seokjin ended up biting out bitterly, “It’s about control. We can’t do anything if there’s a human attached to our every step, telling him everything we do.” And yes, Namjoon has been going towards that conclusion too.
“It’s most likely,” the fire dragon admitted, “We have to be very careful about what we do and say from now on. At least where she can see or hear.” Yoongi sighed, but as resigned as the sound was, Namjoon still could see the way his fingers jerked and cramped with barely concealed fury.
“It’s been a long time coming,” Jin-hyung muttered, as if that was supposed to help them calm down, “you know Kangdae has been very snippy lately about us not being monitored enough with the lack of riders in our thunder.” Namjoon looked to his oldest hyung and felt his heart thaw a little. Contrary to what the maknaes believed, he wasn’t fearless – in actuality he was afraid of most of everything, but it always was the light dragon that stood by his side and supported him when he needed it the most. He was no one without his Jin-hyung, and he’d gladly spend the rest of eternity loving the dragon.
But now, here in this room, none of them looked too happy about the circumstances (though nothing could rival the fury in the black-haired dragon’s eyes).
Jin-hyung, on the other hand, seemed to be almost a little too serene. Namjoon knew that concentrated look on his face. There was something brewing in him, something he knew he’d have to wait for the older dragon to share on his own terms.
But he noticed how inclined he seemed to be towards the human now. Same as Taehyung, who seemed to just accept everything that was happening and took it in stride almost terrifyingly easily.
Their safety lay on Namjoon’s shoulders – and he’d tear himself apart to make sure they stayed out of harm's way.
“Well,” finally Yoongi spoke, voice level but strained, “Nothing left for us but to play along. For now. When the opportunity strikes, if it’s necessary – I’ll deal with her.”
Series masterlist | Previous Part | Next part
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#dragonheart series#bts#bts ot7#bts x reader#ot7 x reader#bts poly au#bts fic#bts fluff#bts angst#bts smut#bts dragon au#seokjin fic#yoongi fic#hoseok fic#namjoon fic#jimin fic#taehyung fic#jungkook fic#seokjin smut#yoongi smut#hoseok smut#namjoon smut#jimin smut#taehyung smut#jungkook smut
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Hello! I stumbled across your post about requests opening for certain Rings of Power characters, and I'd love to request one for Gil-galad, if that's okay!
The reader is Elrond's sister, and was taken in by Gil-galad when she was an elfling after Sirion (just like Elros and Elrond). Could you write something that begins in angst and ends in fluff? Like, for example, Gil-galad has been trying to convince himself that he's not falling for the reader (but he is), and one day she goes on a patrol with Elrond and a few other elves. She gets grievously hurt, and is rushed back to the palace by her overprotective brother Elrond. Gil-galad is incredibly concerned, and the love and grief comes rushing to the forefront. He's got to watch her scream in pain as she's being healed by Elrond. When she gets better, the High King professes his love and asks her to court him. A timeskip and a brief mention of them getting married at the end and facing the hardships of Second Age Middle Earth together? Because Eru knows we need some fluff and happy endings!
Thanks a lot, and apologies for the long request!
Hello there! I combined this with another ask I received about our lovely High King! I'm going to make a part 2 that is going to address their happily ever after and maybe some spicey time.... for now, here you go!
zoya-olenka asked:
Ok and the other one, reader and Gil Galad are always clashing during their interactions until the tension is too much and well, we know what follows. I'll leave it to you to set the scenery. I'm sure I'll love anything you come up with!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lovely Thorn
You sit across from Gil-galad at the war council, the map of Middle-earth spread out between you on the heavy oak table. The room is filled with advisors and generals, all eyes turned to the High King as he discusses the latest reports from the patrols. Your heart pounds in your chest, and not because of the looming threat of war.
"I still believe we should patrol further south," you say, folding your arms across your chest. "The enemy could be gaining ground there, and if we don’t act now, we risk losing control of the entire region."
Gil-galad raises an eyebrow, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. "Moving south would leave Lindon exposed. I will not risk the heart of our people for a gamble on a dark servant that Galadriel herself cannot seem to find."
"It’s not a gamble," you argue, your voice sharper than intended. "It is a calculated risk, and one we must take if we’re to stand a chance protecting the people of this world."
The room goes silent, all eyes flicking between you and the High King. This isn’t the first time you’ve challenged him in public, and it certainly won’t be the last. His calm, unflinching demeanor only serves to irritate you more. How can he be so maddeningly composed? And worse—how can he look so beautiful even when he’s infuriating you?
"Perhaps," Gil-galad says after a long pause, "you would like to lead the army yourself, then? Since you seem to know so much more about warfare than my generals."
Heat rushes to your cheeks. "That’s not what I meant, and you know it!"
He leans back in his chair, the smirk still there. "I know what you are saying. But the decision is mine to make."
You grit your teeth, feeling the tension thick between you. The air seems heavier when he’s near, and no matter how much he irritates you, you can’t deny that every argument leaves you more flustered than the last.
"Fine," you mutter, finally relenting, though your mind still spins with frustration. "But when the darkness returns to our borders, remember that I warned you."
As you storm out of the room, you can feel his gaze lingering on you, and the sensation only makes your heart race faster.
—---------------------------
You’re standing in the middle of the throne room, arms crossed as you glare at Gil-galad. The council has just adjourned, but the two of you remain, still arguing over the trade agreements with Númenor. He stands with his arms behind his back, the picture of regal calm, while you’re nearly pacing with frustration.
"We need to offer them more, or they’ll break off the alliance," you insist, your tone exasperated. "You’re being too cautious, Ereinion!"
"And you’re being too reckless," he counters smoothly, his voice low but steady. "If we give Númenor too much, they’ll see it as a sign of weakness. We cannot afford to appear desperate."
"I’m not saying we should grovel," you snap, taking a step closer. "I’m saying we should meet them halfway, but you’re so stubborn!"
Gil-galad’s eyes narrow slightly, but that infuriating calm never leaves his face. "You think me stubborn, do you?"
"Yes!" The word bursts out of you before you can stop it. "You never listen to anyone else’s advice, not when it contradicts your own plans. You—" You falter as he takes a step closer, his gaze locked on yours with a sudden intensity that makes your breath catch. You’re close enough now to feel the heat radiating from him, the weight of his presence pressing down on you.
"And you think I don’t listen to you?" he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. His closeness, the way his gaze flickers down to your lips for just a fraction of a second—it all leaves you dizzy. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Instead, you turn sharply on your heel and walk out, your face burning, every nerve in your body on fire.
—---------------------------
Of all things to argue about, you hadn’t expected this. The grand banquet hall is prepared for an important delegation from the elven cities, and you’re standing with Gil-galad, going over the final seating arrangements. He points to one of the seats near the head of the table.
"Lady Galadriel should sit there," he says decisively.
You shake your head. "No, she should be closer to the center. That way, she can engage more easily with both the Galadhrim and the Lindon lords. She’ll feel isolated at the head."
Gil-galad sighs, rubbing his temple. "The head of the table is a place of honor. It shows respect."
"She won’t care about that," you insist, your voice rising slightly. "She cares about connection, not appearances."
"And what makes you think I don’t know what she cares about?" he says, turning to face you fully now, his brow furrowing. "I’ve known Galadriel for centuries."
"Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think," you counter, crossing your arms and standing your ground. You know you’re being difficult, but for some reason, every word out of his mouth today is setting you off. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, like you’re some puzzle he can’t quite solve. Maybe it’s the way he always manages to look so composed while you’re constantly flustered in his presence.
He takes a step closer, his gaze hardening, but his voice remains calm. "If memory serves, I am the High King, and the decision is mine."
Your heart pounds as he stands so close, his presence once again overwhelming you. You can smell the faint scent of pine and sea air on him, and you hate that even now, even in the middle of an argument, you can’t help but notice how maddeningly attractive he is.
"You always say that," you mutter, looking away, your face burning. "But sometimes I think you make these decisions just to frustrate me."
Gil-galad’s expression softens for just a moment, something unreadable passing through his eyes. "Perhaps," he says quietly, "I do."
You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. You glance up at him, your heart racing, but before you can say anything, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, flustered and confused once again.
—---------------------------
You walk down the quiet halls of the palace, your feet barely making a sound as you wander through the open corridors of Lindon. The sea breeze brushes against your face, carrying with it the familiar scent of salt and pine. You’re lost in thought today, the memories of Sirion still haunting the edges of your mind despite the many years that have passed.
Your steps slow as you near one of the open council rooms. Two familiar voices filter through the air. Círdan and Gil-galad. Their tones are low but clear enough for you to hear.
“You are the High King of the Noldor, Ereinion. It is your duty to provide a legacy, to ensure the future of our people,” Círdan says with that calm, ancient wisdom in his voice.
There’s a pause, and then you hear Gil-galad’s reply, strained but resolute. “No one deserves that burden, Círdan. To be bound to me would be a life of endless war and worry. The darkness presses closer each day. How could I ask anyone to endure that?”
“You would not be asking. Someone would gladly bear it, if it meant standing beside you,” Círdan counters softly. “There are many who would fill the role, Ereinion. And, if I may speak freely, there is already someone fit.”
A silence follows, heavier than the words before it. You find yourself holding your breath, your heart beating faster for reasons you can’t quite place.
Gil-galad sighs, the sound laced with weariness. “No. There is no one fit for such a task. Not… not her. She deserves more than I can give. I can never ask her to share in this life.”
Her? It couldn’t be you. A sudden weight settles in your chest as your mind scrambles for an explanation. Gil-galad must be in love with someone else—some other elleth, far more graceful and fitting for a king. Perhaps all those charged moments between you—the arguments, the heated exchanges—were nothing more than misunderstandings, your own heart playing tricks on you. You’ve been a fool, misreading his every glance, every word. Heat rises to your cheeks as embarrassment floods you. Of course, the High King would never see you that way.
You quietly slip away from the door, your heart heavy, and find Elrond later that evening. Without revealing too much of your turmoil, you convince him to take you on the next patrol. Anything to clear your mind, to escape these tangled feelings. Elrond hesitates at first, but you press, insisting that some fresh air and a change of pace will help you regain your focus.
But as you ride out with the patrol, your thoughts remain clouded with questions about the mystery elleth. Who is she? Is she one of the noble ladies who frequently attends court? One of the warriors who catches Gil-galad’s eye during council?
The wind whispers through the trees as your patrol moves cautiously through the dense forest. The air is tense, but your thoughts are elsewhere—drifting back to the conversation you overheard, the words replaying over and over. Who could she be? Gil-galad’s voice, so calm, so certain, echoes in your mind. Whoever she is, she has captured his heart, and that realization claws at you, leaving you distracted and heavy with emotion.
"Are you well?" Elrond’s voice pulls you from your reverie. He rides beside you, his sharp eyes watching the tree line, ever the vigilant commander. You nod, forcing a tight smile, but your mind is still clouded.
Suddenly, a cry goes up from the front of the patrol. The snap of arrows cutting through the air is followed by the sickening thud of one hitting its target. Chaos erupts as orcs burst from the underbrush, their jagged weapons gleaming in the dim light. Your heart leaps into your throat, and instinctively, you draw your sword.
"To arms!" Elrond shouts, his voice clear and commanding over the din of battle. He’s already dismounting, swinging his blade with practiced precision, felling the first orc that rushes him. The patrol scatters, engaging the enemy in pockets of combat, but the ambush has left you surrounded.
You leap from your horse, blade in hand, but your focus is scattered, your movements just a fraction too slow. You parry an orc’s strike, feeling the jarring force of the blow reverberate through your arm. Another charges, and you swing your sword wide, catching it in the side. It falls, but more take its place.
The clashing of steel fills the air, mingled with the guttural roars of the orcs and the cries of your comrades. You fight to keep up, dodging and weaving between the advancing enemies, but your thoughts keep pulling you back—back to her. Whoever she is, she’s the one occupying Gil-galad’s heart, not you. Not ever you.
And that moment of distraction costs you.
An orc lunges from the side, and you turn too late. The blade slashes across your side with brutal force, the shock of it knocking you off your feet. A scream escapes your lips as the pain explodes through your body. You hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from your lungs, blood already soaking through your tunic. You try to stand, but the world spins, your vision dimming at the edges.
"Sister!" Elrond’s voice cuts through the haze, frantic and filled with fear. He’s at your side, fighting off orcs left and right with terrifying precision. He’s calling for help, his face pale as he kneels beside you, hands pressed to your wound. His touch is warm, but you can feel the cold creeping in.
The battle rages on around you, but all you can focus on is the searing pain and the dull roar in your ears. Elrond’s voice fades in and out as he fights to keep you conscious. Somewhere in the distance, you hear the thundering of more hooves—reinforcements, maybe—but it’s too late. The darkness closes in, and your last thought is of Gil-galad. The king you love. The king you can never have.
The world goes black.
The gates of Lindon loom ahead as the patrol rushes back into the city, Elrond riding with you cradled in his arms. You’re barely conscious, the pain from your wound a constant, throbbing ache that keeps you teetering on the edge of blackness. Every breath is agony, and the blood loss has left you weak. Through the haze, you feel the rhythmic beat of your brother’s heart as he holds you close, murmuring soothing words that you can barely hear.
The moment you pass through the gates, the guards shout for aid, and in the next breath, you hear another voice—a voice that sends a jolt through your foggy mind.
"Ereinion," you manage to whisper, but the sound is drowned out by the clamor around you.
Gil-galad appears as if from nowhere, his face pale, eyes wide with fear as he takes in your bloodied form. His gaze locks onto the gash across your side, and his calm, regal demeanor shatters in an instant. He rushes to your side, kneeling next to Elrond as they carry you inside the palace, moving swiftly toward the healing chambers. His fingers tremble as they brush against your cheek, his breath shallow.
"What happened?" His voice is low, edged with a panic you’ve never heard from him before.
"An ambush," Elrond replies tersely, his focus never leaving you as he lays you gently on the bed. "She’s lost a lot of blood, and the wound is deep. I have to start healing her now."
Gil-galad nods, but his eyes remain on you, unable to tear himself away. As Elrond begins the healing process, the room fills with an eerie light. You know what’s coming—the agonizing burn as your brother’s power works to knit your flesh back together. It’s like fire coursing through your veins, and you grit your teeth, trying to suppress the scream rising in your throat.
The pain surges, and your body writhes involuntarily, your breath coming in short gasps. Elrond’s hands glow brighter as he works, but the intensity of the healing magic is unbearable. Your vision blurs, and a scream tears from your lips, the agony more than you can bear.
"Stay with me," Gil-galad’s voice suddenly breaks through the haze. You feel his hand wrap around yours, firm and steady, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "Look at me."
You force your eyes open, your gaze locking onto his. His face is inches from yours, his expression raw with concern, and something else—something deeper that you can’t quite name.
"Do you remember the day we met?" he asks, his voice soft but urgent, as if he’s trying to anchor you to the moment, to keep you from slipping away. "You were so angry. Soaked from the sea, all wide eyes and defiance. I knew then that you would be a thorn in my side."
Despite the pain, a weak, breathless laugh escapes you. "Glad... to oblige."
"You’ve been a constant thorn ever since," he continues, his tone light but laced with something tender. "Arguing with me at every turn. About everything. War. Politics. Even seating arrangements."
You wince as another wave of pain hits, but Gil-galad squeezes your hand, his grip steadying you, pulling you back from the edge. His eyes, usually so composed, are filled with a desperate kind of affection. "But," he murmurs, his voice low and almost trembling, "you are a thorn I would gladly bear every day of my life—if you would stay by my side."
Your heart races, but the words are lost in the haze of pain. All you can do is hold on to his voice, to the warmth of his hand in yours, as Elrond works tirelessly to heal you. The burning, searing pain seems to stretch on for hours, each second a battle to stay conscious. But Gil-galad doesn’t leave your side. He speaks to you quietly, distracting you from the worst of it, telling you of moments you had shared, of arguments he had secretly cherished because they meant you were there, with him.
When the pain finally subsides, and the last of the healing light fades from Elrond’s hands, you collapse back against the pillows, utterly exhausted. Your body is drenched in sweat, your limbs trembling, but the worst is over. Your eyes flutter closed, your mind drifting as sleep pulls you under. The last thing you feel is the warmth of Gil-galad’s hand still holding yours.
As you slip into unconsciousness, Gil-galad remains where he is, his fingers intertwined with yours, his expression unreadable. He leans his forehead against your hand, relief and exhaustion written in every line of his face.
"I won’t leave her," Gil-galad says quietly, his voice hoarse. He looks up at Elrond, his gaze unwavering. "Not until she releases me."
Elrond, weary but grateful, nods in understanding. "She’ll need you when she wakes," he says softly, placing a hand on Gil-galad’s shoulder before quietly leaving the room.
The High King stays, his grip never loosening, watching over you as the night wears on, his heart heavy with the weight of his unspoken feelings.
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HI!! Im a little nervous requesting for the first time. I dont really do this a lot, but i just have this fic idea about Alessio. He definitely caught my eye and interest with the concept of a mercenary figure.
It's not much, but it would be interesting if male reader was a rival mercenary that gets into "daily quarrels" with Alessio. They always end up in a tie with strength, but there would be something different about reader one day. They turned ruthless with their fights, and even defeated Alessio. Now that he's right underneath their control in every movement, wouldn't it be interesting to finally fuck the daylights out of the cocky bastard?
Sorry if it doesn't really make sense, i rarely write lololol. Thank you so much before :) !
˖⁺. ﹙ bttm enigmatic antihero mercenary x rival top male reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁
. . . pretty little fuckdoll you are, arias !! 🍒 : antihero ˖ mercenary ˖ enigma character character﹙ verse 781 alessio. ﹚
Winning one of your's and Alessio's little "quarrels" you get on top of him during the fight and take your win with fucking the daylights out of him <3
𖹭. ps : thank you for the first time request!! was so fun<3 | cw: anal, rough fucking, lots of cum, nipple piercing tugging <3, slight degradation, handjob
A groan of frustration moves past Alessio’s lips as you buck your hips into his pretty ass. Splitting his tight walls while you hold him down against the floor.
“I’ll fuckin’ get back at you f’this.” He grunts, only for the sound to transition into a whiny gasp as the pace becomes rough and fast.
Your fingers rake through the black locks of hair, only to take a good grip on them all and force Alessio’s face back down into the ground to keep his mouth shut. The look of his eyes rolling back sending you straight to the stratosphere.
“We’ll — mghn fuck so tight— hahh- see about that. Arias.” You chuckle into his ear, breaths heavy, bating, as you near your orgasm. The feeling of him clenching all around you whenever you cum has you hooked on the feeling.
Yet you edge yourself a bit, wanting him to be able to see when you cum again. So with swift movements, you pull out of him and flip him over. Beautiful olive skin on display for you. It would be a crime to not run the tips of your fingers across it and do a pinch’n’tug on his nipple piercings.
His hips buck upwards, in the poorest of attempts to take over the little ‘wrestle’ session the two of you are having. You regain the control quickly, as you snap your cock back into his needy hole.
The loud whine that escapes him has you almost tipping over — fuck, what is this man doing to you?
Hot ropes of cum spurt out of his cock as you begin to fuck ferally, shallowing your thrusts while, guiding him back down on your dick everytime he seems to be squirming away.
Moving his hips with one hand, you move the other to press your thumb down against his penis slit and swirl the seed around the tip. Before, smoothly, your hand rushes down his throbbing dick and starts pumping out more of his delicious cum.
“Just look at you.” You laugh, swallowing one of your own moans while panting out the rest of your words: “strongest deemd mercenary turned into my personal pretty boy fucktoy, isn’t that adorable?”
That snapped any sort of self-control he had left, his eyes crossing while his mouth drops open for moans to come cascading out of it. Tears well at the corners of the emerald hues that gaze up at the ceiling. The pleasure is so intense he can’t keep up.
Neither can you.
It doesn’t take long for you to put him into a mating press, making him watch as you shoot your own hot load of cum into him over and over again. The squeezing of his walls so intense you feel lightheaded.
“That’s it— Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!!”
Your moans do not go unheard, the other joining the choir of the symphany your bodies make. The sounds of sloppy skin against skin continue as you fuck out the rest of your orgasm. Your balls tapping against the plush of his ass as his little hole leaves you spent.
#﹙ cupcake rush. ﹚: alessio 781 𖹭 ݁#male reader#monster boyfriend#teratophillia#smut#monster fucker#monster x reader#mercenary x reader#oc x reader#immortal x reader#terato#original character x reader#reader insert#monster oc#alessio 781#asterism
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Left On Read - JJK Smau
chap2: why me? masterlist
warnings: slutshaming(directed towards you)
notes at end for those interested!
the minute you stepped into yuta’s dorm, you felt like you had just experienced a breakup. a bad, traumatic breakup. there was already a bowl of your favorite candy on the bed, untouched for you to engross yourself in. on the bed held numerous pillows and blankets, too many to count, with a laptop ready to screen Smile.
“hi, yuta.” you greet him with a friendly smile, a bit tense just by the atmosphere of the room. yuta seemed… guilty. a sheepish smile on his face that didn’t seem all that genuine.
“hi!” he greeted back, already yanking you down to his bed to watch the movie. “this is a scary movie, it’s great! we’ll watch the second right after this with everyone else-“
at the mention of the rest of the friend group, yuta began to trail off, going silent. he refused eye contact, instead blankly staring at the screen infront of him.
“you okay?” you asked, a bit concerned by the lack of energy he had just moments before.
“uh, actually, i’ve been meaning to show you something..” yuta begins after hesitating a few moments, fumbling with his phone.
“it’s of the group chat, before you joined…”
your soul leaves your body as you read the messages on his screen.










you don’t know whether you should cry or laugh. maybe both. this was humiliating, and yuta was the only one trying to defend you?
“why would maki do that.” is all you’re able to muster, voice shaky yet lacking emotion.
“… it’s a really long story.” yuta sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“i honestly don’t know that much,” he begins. “she used to be in a friend group with just toge and panda, i joined a bit later. i was left out a lot, she was real mean to me but i never let it get to me… after awhile, she just turned to panda.”
panda? you had heard of him through toge. never met him though, and he’s never been in the group chat. what did maki do to him?
“i guess she lost interest in me cause i never reacted, so she began to fat shame panda a lot..” yuta gulped, sweat beading at his forehead. why did he look so guilty?
“panda left the chat after awhile. the only one who still has his contact is toge. without panda, she must’ve gotten bored and chose to target you..”
“why me?”
-
- yuji do NOT gaf 😭😭 a true sheep
- maki is mean for a reason btw i hate making girls mean i love girls girls so she will be explained soon!
- sorry if it’s rushed i wrote this before bed.. teehee
- gonna do a poll for love interest! keep in mind, i will not write nsfw for canon underage characters regardless of the fact i aged them up to 19. for canon of age characters, they will either be the same age as this squad or a bit older, i will write nsfw for them probably.
okayy thanks for reading chat!! here’s who’s asked to be tagged <3 @shokosbunny @kalulakunundrum @tenthmilo
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk text fic#jjk texts#jjk x reader#yuji x reader#yuji x you#yuji itadori#nobara kugisaki#maki zenin#megumi x you#megumi x reader#megumi x y/n#yuji x y/n#yuta x reader#yuta x you#yuta x y/n#toji x y/n#toji x you#toji x reader#inumaki toge#megumi fushiguro#yuta okkotsu#jjk angst#x reader angst#jjk smau
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Emperor Geta x Fem!Reader: Escape
Y/N = Your Name
They will not follow the Roman style of speech - it will be written in modern language.
*I do not own the characters or plot of Gladiator 2*
Masterlist
PART TWO
You had met Emperor Geta twice growing up in Rome.
The first time was when you two were kids, so you just remember playing with a sword in a sand pit.
The second time was when he was freshly made Emperor, and you two did the deed. He was hot, and he thought you were hot. You helped him with plans for ruling as you were ruling your homeland. The proper term for your title was Queen. You noticed how reckless Calla was, and you told Geta of a way to escape Rome to get to you. You even gave him a secret password for him to be granted safe passage there. He did not understand at the time why you told him of an escape.
The next years passed, and you couldn't visit Rome anymore. Your role as Queen was important to you, and you didn't want to just travel for pleasure. You could have lied to your people, but your people were facing threats day by day from Romans. It seemed to you that Emperor Geta and Emperor Calla had no control of their city. It terrified you, and you just hoped Emperor Geta would end up okay in the end. You sent letters once every couple of months to check in with him, and he wrote you poems about how he missed you. He claimed that no woman filled the void you left in his heart.
...
It was a random day in the hottest part of summer, and you found yourself swimming in your private pool to cool down. Your foreign advisor asked your guards to speak to you about an urgent matter, so you threw on an outfit and rushed to the sitting room.
You find your foreign advisor looking antsy. You ask, "Please, tell me, what's the matter?" He bows and answers, "Miss, I have a letter from Titus, who lives on the shore of Rome. He wrote to me 5 days ago that he had a surprise visitor who knew your secret password for safe passage. The messenger arrived today and was 2 days ahead of Titus." You ask, "Well who was it?" He answers, "That's where I have questions as well. The messenger said it was Emperor Geta." You drop the glass you hold, and it breaks, spreading water everywhere. A maid rushes in and begins cleaning.
Once the maid finishes and leaves, you talk to your advisor about the arrival of Emperor Geta. You also inform him of bits of your past with the Emperor. You once considered him a friend and would be a generous host to his visit... but if he were to harm or intend to harm your people, he would be sent packing. You agree to keep this information secret as best as you can until his arrival to guarantee his safety.
You spend the next couple of days in meetings and normal. You spend your nights feeling antsy and nervous. Why would Emperor Geta visit you now? What's wrong? Where is Calla?
The day of his arrival is here. A messenger arrives from the shore to tell you that Titus' ship has docked.
You wait in your sitting room near the entrance of your palace.
The door swings open, and a guard announces, "Now announcing the presence of Titus and Emperor Geta!" They both stroll through the door, and you see the exhaustion in Emperor Geta's eyes. He looks bad, which is saying a lot because you find him very attractive. Titus bows and then Emperor Geta does. Titus says, "Your Majesty, I present Emperor Geta. I shall let the two of you reconnect. I must go and rest for that was a long journey." You shake his hand, thank him, and he leaves.
You take a careful step toward Emperor Geta and exclaim, "Emperor Geta, is that really you?" He answers, "Please call me Geta, love. I am Emperor no more." You pull him into a hug, and he squeezes you against him. You pull him over to the couch, where you two sit and talk.
You find out that Geta faked his own death, and Calla thought he killed the real Geta. Calla took over the sole role of Emperor. Geta snuck out of the castle and found Titus easily. Titus gave him commoner clothing, and they sailed 5 days + nights overseas.
You ask, "Why don't I lead you to a nice guest suite to rest?" Geta answers, "I'm scared to be alone right now. Is it alright if I stay with you?" You answer, "Sure, you may. I'll have food brought to our room before we sleep." He replies, "I like the sound of our room." You smile and reply, "I truly did miss you. I was just scared to go back to Rome. I knew I couldn't possibly leave you again and my advisors were worried for my safety." He cups your face and replies, "I would've started wars if they inflicted pain upon you." You cup his face and reply, "You're safe here. I'll make sure of it." He leans in and kisses you gently.
PART TWO?!?!?! Consider it on the way, please comment to be tagged on it.
#fanfic#gladiator 2#gladiator ii#gladiator movie#gladiator ll#emperor geta#geta x reader#geta gladiator#geta x you#geta imagine#joseph quinn
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Hierarchy of Intimacy (Chapter Chigiri)

Synopsis: With Chigiri's keen observation skills, nothing gets past him. You don't realize how much he has studied from you. From your habits to clothing, once when he notices a break in the pattern, he is sure to bring it up. (They know what's wrong just with one look)
Tags: Chigiri Hyoma x gn!reader, fluff, lots of teasing from chigiri, bathing together but not in a suggestive way, petname "love"
Author notes: this is a series based on a trend of tiktok. characters that will be included is nagi, yukimiya, rin, chigiri, isagi, reo, kunigami, sae, and bachira. If you want to add a character, you can request with a prompt :) BONUS: shidou
Work had been relentless lately, the constant demands weighing heavily on your shoulders.
It felt like no matter how hard you worked, there was always something else to tackle—another deadline, another email, another meeting.
You couldn’t remember the last time you truly took a moment to relax, but as you pushed through yet another long day, you sighed deeply, a sound you didn’t even realize escaped your lips.
Across the room, Chigiri noticed immediately.
He always had a knack for sensing when something was off with you.
Whether it was a slight change in your expression, the way you moved, or even the energy you carried, nothing ever seemed to go past his sharp, observant eyes.
And right now, he could tell you were exhausted, even though you tried to mask it.
“Are you okay, love?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern. He walked over to where you sat at the dining table, your laptop open, and papers spread around you. “You look more tired than usual.”
You looked up, startled for a moment, before smiling faintly. “I’m fine, really,” you replied, waving your hand dismissively, though it was clear the words didn’t match the truth.
But Chigiri didn’t buy it. He crouched slightly to look you in the eyes, his lips tugging into a small smile that was both teasing and affectionate. “You don’t think I notice your back’s slouching more than usual?”
You gasped, sitting up straighter out of reflex. “Hey! My back isn’t that slouched!"
A soft laugh escaped him, and his crimson eyes sparkled with a teasing glint. “And you forgot to put on the necklace I got you,” he added, gesturing to your bare neck.
You instinctively touched the spot where the necklace would usually sit, your eyes widening in realization. “Oh no! I was in such a rush this morning, I completely forgot—”
Before you could finish, Chigiri reached out and placed a hand gently on your shoulder, cutting off your frantic apology. “It’s okay,” he said warmly, his thumb brushing over your shoulder in a calming motion.
You’ve got a lot on your plate, but just remember—whatever it is, I’m always here for you.”
His sincerity caught you off guard, and for a moment, you felt the tension in your chest loosen.
He always knew exactly what to say to make you feel supported, no matter how chaotic things seemed.
---
By the time you both made it back to your shared apartment that evening, the weight of the day had finally caught up to you.
The second you walked in, you kicked off your shoes and made a beeline for the couch.
Without even taking your bag off, you flopped face-first onto the cushions and immediately drifted off into a deep sleep.
Chigiri trailed in after you, and upon seeing your crumpled form on the couch, a soft laugh escaped his lips. “I guess today really got to you, huh?” he murmured to himself.
Walking over, he sat down next to you and reached out to brush a strand of hair out of your face.
He let his fingers gently thread through your hair, his movements slow and soothing.
Leaning down, he pressed a light kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. “You work too hard,” he whispered, even though you couldn’t hear him.
He stayed there for a while, just watching over you as you slept peacefully, the stress etched on your face beginning to ease away.
When you eventually stirred awake, a comforting floral aroma greeted your senses.
It was faint at first, but as you sat up, it grew stronger, drawing you in. Curious, you followed the scent to the bathroom.
There you found Chigiri, sleeves rolled up and hair loosely tied back, pouring rose-scented oil into the warm water of the tub.
Steam rose around him, curling like soft ribbons, and he hummed softly to himself, seemingly unaware of your presence until you stepped closer.
He turned at the sound of your footsteps, his crimson eyes widening slightly before softening with a sheepish smile. “Guess you caught me,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
“What’s all this for?” you asked, looking between the bathtub and the various bath salts and candles he’d set up.
“It’s for you, dummy,” he replied with an easy smile. “I figured you could use a break after the week you’ve had."
He walked over to you, tilting your chin up with his fingers to meet his gaze. “Let’s bathe together, and after that, I’ll make us dinner. Sound good?”
Your exhaustion seemed to melt away at his words, replaced with a warmth that spread through your chest.
“That sounds amazing,” you said softly, a grateful smile spreading across your lips.
The excitement in your eyes was unmistakable, and you wasted no time preparing for the bath.
Moments later, the two of you were submerged in the warm, fragrant water.
You leaned back against Chigiri, letting the soothing heat work out the knots in your muscles.
As the water lapped gently around you, you let your guard down, venting about your demanding boss and the never-ending pile of work on your desk.
“Honestly, I don’t even know how I’m supposed to meet all these deadlines. It’s like they’re just throwing things at me to see how much I can handle.”
Chigiri listened intently, nodding in understanding even though corporate life was far from his world.
“That sounds rough. But, you know, they wouldn’t give you all that work if they didn’t think you could handle it. You’re incredible at what you do,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring.
You turned your head slightly, smiling softly. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”
“I mean, I do try,” he teased lightly. “Now, let me wash your hair.”
You shifted, turning your back to him and nestling between his legs. His fingers worked shampoo into your hair with practiced care, the rhythmic motions calming your frayed nerves.
“Your hair’s so soft,” he mused, chuckling when you let out a few giggles at the ticklish sensation.
“Wait a second,” you said, catching a hint of a new scent. “Is this shampoo different from my usual one?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s the one I’ve been using lately. Thought you might like it.”
“It smells amazing,” you replied, relaxing further into his touch.
The two of you spent the rest of the bath talking about everything and nothing—your work stress, his experiences in Blue Lock, and dreams for the future.
It was as though the world outside ceased to exist, leaving just the two of you and the quiet intimacy of the moment.
When the water had cooled and you stepped out, Chigiri wrapped you in a fluffy towel, kissing your damp forehead.
“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. “For everything.”
He smiled, brushing his fingers over your cheek. “You never have to thank me. Taking care of you is my favorite thing to do.”
You laughed softly, warmth blooming in your chest as you leaned into his touch. In moments like these, you realized just how much Chigiri’s quiet, unwavering love meant to you. With him, even the heaviest burdens felt a little lighter.
#bllk#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock#blue lock x reader#blue lock x you#bllk chigiri#chigiri hyoma#chigiri x reader#blue lock chigiri#chigiri x you#hyoma#hyoma chigiri#hyoma chigiri x reader#bllk fic#chigiri hyoma x reader
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Heyyy, I'm absolutely in love with all your writing! I read it all in one night😭 Do you think you could for more foxgirl fem reader stuff? The prompt is completely up to you, I don't want to take away from your creativity, but some smut would be greatly appreciated. . .💖
NANAMI X FOXGIRL!READER
Notes: I wasn’t sure which character you wanted so i decided to go with Nanami since that’s where the prompt came from. Btw don’t be afraid to tell me a specific prompt you have in mind, I’m not that creative when it comes to these things so I rely a lot on my followers, so don’t be afraid! Im so happy you read my stuff in one night! It makes me feel good abt writing for you guys <333
Pairings: NANAMI x foxgirl!Reader
Tags: Smut, NASTY!!, hybrid!reader, mating press, mean but soft Kento (kinda), NOT PROOFREAD!
It’s hot, too hot in fact, Kento’s body feels like it’s rising in temperature every few minutes, his dreams feel so vivid and real, a wet hot something is mouthing at his cock, but the fuzz is in his brain won’t allow him to think rationally and clearly. Kento stills before he’s sitting up quickly and ripping the cover off his lower body.
He sees your ears before anything, laid back and relaxed, you don’t even seem to care that you’ve woken him up, not when your tongue is licking him through his underwear, you’ve woken him up and now you’re attempting to tease him? You do look content, eyes fluttered shut and humming around him lowly.
Nanami grabs you by your neck and lifts you up to prop you on his lap, of course you whine and attempt to pry his hand away: it really doesn’t even hurt you’re just so over dramatic: a drama queen as Satoru puts it.
Kento grabs the bridge of his nose in irritation before speaking up, “Can I ask what you’re doing at-“ he looks at the clock on the bedside table, 4:00.
You don’t say anything but of course you pick up the hint when his head turns to the time. Being the mischievous thing you are, you begin licking at his neck, cute white tipped tail swaying back and forth behind you. A deep exhale leaves his lips whilst making no attempt to move or stop you.
You fix your body on top of him, pressing your greedy cunt over his half hard cock, hissing at the good pressure your clit received. He’s already declared when he had been woken up that he won’t help you get off at all, no matter how much you release those cute yelps in desperation.
Your hips begin to move forward and back, his clothed cock slipping in between your folds, your panties are quite bothersome but he won’t tell you to remove them either.
“Mmm..” “Ken-“ you whimpered, coaxing him to help you: it’s started now, you’ll call his name over and over until you get your way, but he’s having none of it.
“Keep going” he attempts to sound void of emotions but the grunt he lets out almost gives him away, you don’t stop grinding your pussy against him. He leans you back a bit to lift up your shirt, your nipples begging him to attend to their needs.
A hot mouth wraps around one of them and sucks, sucks so hard it has you gripping his hair, it doesn’t bother him it just adds on to the stimulation, the combo of you still bouncing against his cock.
You finally get the memo to tug your panties to the side with your free hand, and in the process pulls his cock and balls free, he hissed behind clenched teeth at the rush of cold air against it.
Kento is too big for you to take in all the way, your poor cunt just can’t handle all of him: the first time he attempted it, you could both barely breathe with the amount of times you came just from slipping in a inch every so often.
You line up his fat tip with your pussy, making sure to rub his cock against your clit a few times.
“Ngh…” the sounds coming from your throat as you slowly lower yourself down become louder with each push past his tip.
Finally are you halfway do you stop fully.
“F..uck.. mmmnn..” Nanami groans around your nipple.
His cock fills you up so good, already pressing on that sweet spot, your thighs ache from the position but that doesn’t stop your naughty body from slowly fucking yourself on him, it’s not long till he’s had enough and breaks his vow by flipping you on your back and placing your legs on his shoulders, inching closer to you he has you in a mean, mating press. He wastes no time in pulling all the way and slamming right back into you. Your mewls fill the room rather quickly, the way his cock drags against your walls has you clenching around him nonstop.
“Mhnn, Kent- Kento” you gasp out, he doesn’t acknowledge the desperate look on your face, already so close to cumming, the sounds of his grunting makes you so much more wetter. A thick hand moves itself to your tail and pinches it over and over, and the noise you let out is pornographic, straight out of a film, you’re so sensitive there.
Your clit is throbbing so bad, needy bud needing to be rubbed, you shakily move your fingers to said clit and begin moving side to side, your fingers glide across so easy due to just how wet you are, Nanami hasn’t stopped pinching the end of your nail, everything feels so good: a cock slamming into you nonstop, your fingers on your clit, and added stimulation on your tail. Your body convulses while Kento holds you still: still fucking into you, electric pulses are sent throughout your whole body, you tighten around him and finally cum, cumming with a loud scream that it’s sure to disturb the neighbors.
That doesn’t mean Kento is done when you slump and attempt to catch your breath, he sits himself up on his knees giving you a moment, not that it can be called that, pushing one of your legs towards you, he begins his pace again, you can hear better now, the room is filled with your annoying babbling and the sounds of his pelvis meeting your ass. His balls are so heavy, needing immediately to fill you up, maybe even push you over the edge one more time but he wants to extend this as long as possible, you being able to do nothing but take your impending orgasms nonstop.
#zsworks#fem reader#jjk x hybrid reader#hybrid reader#nanami x female reader#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami smut#nanami x y/n#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x reader
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Not many people discuss Harry character development when it comes to his and Hermione relationship. What I mean is how he treats her when Ron and Hermione are arguing.
In the third book, there is the infamous firebolt incident. This is where people claim that ‘Harry ignored Hermione for months.’ The scene in question.
“There’s nothing wrong with it!” said Harry, his voice shaking slightly. “Honestly, Professor —”
“You can’t know that, Potter,” said Professor McGonagall, quite kindly, “not until you’ve flown it, at any rate, and I’m afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed.”
Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Harry stood staring after her, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in his hands. Ron, however, rounded on Hermione.
“What did you go running to McGonagall for?”
Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.
Ron's reaction was a lot stronger than Harry's and obviously colored the whole thing. Harry would probably be angry without Ron there but there’s a contrast between their reactions.
(PoA12): Harry knew that Hermione had meant well, but that didn’t stop him from being angry with her. He had been the owner of the best broom in the world for a few short hours, and now, because of her interference, he didn’t know whether he would ever see it again. [...] Ron was furious with Hermione too. As far as he was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage.
This reaction is literally the first thing we’re told about Harry’s feelings regarding the incident. Harry is obviously disappointed and annoyed by Hermione’s “interference,” but also immediately acknowledges Hermione “meant well.” (I think we have to pause and realize that this is a rather measured reaction from a 13-year-old boy who had just received the most amazing gift and had it taken away from him.) In contrast, Ron was "furious" and viewed Hermione’s intervention as tantamount to encouraging a criminal act.
And at least at the beginning, it is Hermione who places distance between her and the boys:
‘Hermione, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. Harry and Ron supposed she had taken refuge in the library and didn’t try to persuade her to come back.’
This is what they “supposed.” They didn’t even know where she went. So, initially, we can at best fault Harry for not deliberately seeking out a girl who was actively avoiding them. (Though, the phrasing "taken refuge" suggests that had she stayed, something bad would have occurred. As the only person we see attacking her during this entire time is Ron—never Harry—we have to assume that's what she's avoiding.)
Meanwhile, we see Ron and Hermione get into arguments when they do encounter each other (e.g., over Lupin). And we see Hermione clearly feeling uncomfortable and “rushing past with her face averted” when Harry tries to bring up the broom with McGonagall. Again, we never see Harry show anger or annoyance toward Hermione. We never have Harry actively feeling like he should avoid her or ignore her or show her the silent treatment or ANYTHING. It's never stated, unlike many other times in the books when it's explicitly stated that Harry avoids someone.
And Harry becomes exceptionally busy at this time. Quidditch practice now happens five days per week, and he has anti-dementor classes with Lupin, so Harry notes that during this period he had ‘only one night per week’ to do his homework. It's not like it seems he had a lot of time to even casually encounter Hermione, who was also so wrapped up in her own schedule of taking a ridiculous number of classes.
(Note that the only scene where we see Harry having a reaction about Hermione during this time is when he's distracted writing an essay on his one night he has to do homework and can't really focus on why Hermione's schedule might be weird when Ron mentions it. He doesn't express anger or annoyance at talking about her or tell Ron, he doesn't care; he just is distracted by other things and is unable to think further about her schedule at that moment.)
After the Firebolt was returned on February 3rd, Harry immediately tells Ron that they should go make up with Hermione. It's almost like he had been feeling bad about it, but wasn't going to go against Ron (who, as we saw, was much less understanding about it). Look at literally the first thing out of Harry’s mouth:
[Ron said,] “She gave it to you? Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?”
“Yeah... anything... ,” said Harry, his heart lighter than it had been in a month. “You know what—we should make up with Hermione… She was only trying to help...”
Harry just got his prized possession back, and Ron's reaction is about whether he can ride it. But Harry doesn't seem to care about that now: note the ellipses, as if he's distracted and not really thinking about what Ron's saying. Instead, we know his "heart" has become "lighter than it had been in a month." Why his heart? Because he's been estranged from Hermione, and the very first thing he wants to do is make up with her.
He appears to miss her, and there's no hint that he's still angry with her. That contrasts with other places in the books where we know Harry holds a grudge for some time and will have little bursts of anger periodically well up inside him, as when he's estranged from Ron in GoF (he literally wanted Ron to throw a punch so he could fight him) and again in DH; none of that is described here toward Hermione after the initial reaction when McGonagall confiscates the Firebolt.
And Harry's immediately noticing how tired she looks, suggesting that she might ease up on her workload a bit. Overall, his attitude is far from someone who wants to “ignore” her—he seems legitimately concerned about her:
“How are you getting through all this stuff?” Harry asked her.
“Oh, well — you know — working hard,” said Hermione. Close-up, Harry saw that she looked almost as tired as Lupin.
“Why don’t you just drop a couple of subjects?” Harry asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary.
“I couldn’t do that!” said Hermione, looking scandalized.
During the period of their estrangement, on that one night when Ron brings up Hermione's schedule, we also see noted in the passage that Hermione's been stressed out and isolating herself surrounded by books. Although the text doesn't explicitly say that Harry noticed this, it's explicitly framed around him: he's struggling to complete his homework in one night per week, but "Even so, he wasn't showing the strain nearly as much as Hermione." The circumstantial evidence thus suggests he was noticing and at least somewhat worrying about her (or at least thinking about her), which gets confirmed in the way he approaches her here and offers some advice.
Unfortunately, as Harry and Hermione are just beginning to have a nice conversation about Hermione’s interest in Arithmancy, Ron bursts in and claims Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers. Ron then goes into full-blown ostracization mode with Hermione again, but Harry keeps trying to keep the communication going with her (PoA13):
Personally, Harry was sure that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, and when he tried to point out to Hermione that the evidence all pointed that way, she lost her temper with Harry too.
“Okay, side with Ron, I knew you would!” she said shrilly. “First the Firebolt, now Scabbers, everything’s my fault, isn’t it! Just leave me alone, Harry, I’ve got a lot of work to do!”
Harry’s clearly trying. He repeatedly approaches her and keeps attempting to bring her back into his circle. After the next Quidditch match, he breaks away in the middle of his own celebration party to check in with her:
“Did you even come to the match?” he asked her.
“Of course I did,” said Hermione in a strangely high-pitched voice, not looking up. “And I’m very glad we won, and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday.”
“Come on, Hermione, come and have some food,” Harry said, looking over at Ron and wondering whether he was in a good enough mood to bury the hatchet.
“I can’t, Harry. I’ve still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read!” said Hermione, now sounding slightly hysterical. “Anyway...” She glanced over at Ron too. “He doesn’t want me to join in.”
Hermione would never miss one of Harry’s Quidditch matches, of course. But she’s feeling uncomfortable and continuing to distance herself, even though she knows this is about Ron now, not Harry. But Harry takes the initiative and tries to break down the barriers, yet again.
And when Ron repeatedly upsets her, Harry clearly wants to do something to help her, but isn't quite sure what—and also doesn't want to cross Ron. But Ron can't stand to see Harry and Hermione be friendly: he chooses this moment to speak up about Scabbers again, resulting in Hermione fleeing.
Hermione burst into tears. Before Harry could say or do anything, she tucked the enormous book under her arm, and, still sobbing, ran toward the staircase to the girls’ dormitories and out of sight.
“Can’t you give her a break?” Harry asked Ron quietly.
Ron keeps this up apparently for a couple months after the Firebolt is returned. We see Harry repeatedly approaching her with olive branches, but she's upset with Ron, and Harry seems kind of stuck. At this sort of age, it's natural to continue to segregate friendships by sex, so even though he wants to make up with Hermione, while Ron is ostracizing her, Harry doesn't do more. They both finally realize how poorly they’ve acted when Hagrid has a conversation with him, and ultimately they make up around Easter (which fell on April 3rd, so after about two months).
And when Hagrid does bring it up—well, let’s look at the contrasting reactions between the two boys (PoA14):
“She’s in a righ’ state, that’s what. She’s bin comin’ down ter visit me a lot since Chris’mas. Bin feelin’ lonely. Firs’ yeh weren’ talking to her because o’ the Firebolt, now yer not talkin’ to her because her cat —”
“— ate Scabbers!” Ron interjected angrily.
“Because her cat acted like all cats do,” Hagrid continued doggedly. “She’s cried a fair few times, yeh know. Goin’ through a rough time at the moment. Bitten off more’n she can chew, if yeh ask me, all the work she’s tryin’ ter do. Still found time ter help me with Buckbeak’s case, mind. . . . She’s found some really good stuff fer me . . . reckon he’ll stand a good chance now. . . .”
“Hagrid, we should’ve helped as well — sorry —” Harry began awkwardly.
“I’m not blamin’ yeh!” said Hagrid, waving Harry’s apology aside. “Gawd knows yeh’ve had enough ter be gettin’ on with. I’ve seen yeh practicin’ Quidditch ev’ry hour o’ the day an’ night — but I gotta tell yeh, I thought you two’d value yer friend more’n broomsticks or rats. Tha’s all.”
Harry and Ron exchanged uncomfortable looks.
“Really upset, she was, when Black nearly stabbed yeh, Ron. She’s got her heart in the right place, Hermione has, an’ you two not talkin’ to her —”
“If she’d just get rid of that cat, I’d speak to her again!” Ron said angrily. “But she’s still sticking up for it! It’s a maniac, and she won’t hear a word against it!”
Look closely at what’s going on here. Hagrid’s framing this as how both boys supposedly aren’t talking to her, but it’s clear that only one of them (Ron) is angry, while the other (Harry) is apologetic. And when Harry does try to apologize, Hagrid waves it away, excusing Harry with his Quidditch practices. I think Hagrid’s probably also sensitive to what’s really going on here: it’s not Harry who is ostracizing Hermione—it’s Ron, specifically. Hagrid may even have seen Harry trying to be conciliatory with Hermione, or perhaps she even told him. Regardless, Hagrid’s focus here is clear, and it’s not about Harry. While Harry could have done more, Hagrid’s trying to mend stuff with Ron and Hermione, as he likely sees that both of them are distancing from each other (and Hermione’s driving Harry out in the middle).
Note that the real cause of this all is established yet again when they do make up. Ron offers to help with Buckbeak’s appeal, Hermione apologizes about Scabbers, and then all is well again. If any of this were about Harry’s anger anymore, there would need to be a reconciliation with Hermione too, but this was clearly never much about Harry. They had made up months before, even if Hermione kept pushing him away (out of her anger with Ron and her anger at Harry for “siding” with him).
The distance appears mostly created by her and Ron. So we might (and should) fault Harry for not being more proactive in making up with her earlier, but there’s not really any evidence Harry is “ignoring” or actively shunning her, even in PoA. He and Hermione are both incredibly busy during this time too, and the moment the Firebolt is returned, he immediately queries Ron about making up with her.
Given gender dynamics in friendships at this age, it’s very understandable for a temporary break like this to happen, particularly given Hermione and Ron’s strong personalities.
We can compare this to Harry reacts when he’s older after the events of GoF and OOTP and has clearly matured more. When Ron and Hermione start fighting against in HBP. To jog your memory, Ron finds out that two years ago that Hermione allegedly kissed viktor krum from Ginny and starts giving Hermione the silent treatment. He starts dating lavender in retaliation for Hermione kissing a boy that asked her out two years ago while she was single.
HBP14: Harry catches a glimpse of Hermione (as Ron is snogging Lavender for the first time) and immediately goes after her to check on her abandoning quidditch celebrations.
Harry turned away from Ron, who did not look like surfacing soon, just in time to see the portrait hole closing. With a sinking feeling he thought he saw a mane of bushy brown hair whipping out of sight.
He darted forwards, sidestepped Romilda Vane again, and pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady. The corridor outside seemed to be deserted.
‘Hermione?’
He found her in the first unlocked classroom he tried. She was sitting on the teacher’s desk, alone except for a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling her head, which she had clearly just conjured out of midair. Harry could not help admiring her spellwork at a time like this.
HBP15: Unlike in PoA when Ron and Hermione are fighting, in HBP Harry gets away from Ron while Ron is “busy” to regularly spend time with Hermione. (Also it shows that the people who say that Harry doesn’t like spending time with Hermione is false, he chooses to spend time with her as he does multiple times across the books)
Hermione’s timetable was so full that Harry could only talk to her properly in the evenings, when Ron was in any case so tightly wrapped around Lavender that he did not notice what Harry was doing. Hermione refused to sit in the common room while Ron was there, so Harry generally joined her in the library, which meant that their conversations were held in whispers.
HBP15: Harry runs after Hermione and tries to help when she’s crying after Ron does a cruel impression of her in class
Hermione laughed unkindly at Ron’s disastrous first attempt, during which he somehow managed to give himself a spectacular handlebar moustache; Ron retaliated by doing a cruel but accurate impression of Hermione jumping up and down in her seat every time Professor McGonagall asked a question, which Lavender and Parvati found deeply amusing and which reduced Hermione to the verge of tears again. She raced out of the classroom on the bell, leaving half her things behind; Harry, deciding that her need was greater than Ron’s , scooped up her remaining possessions and followed her.
We see here that Harry prioritises Hermione, deciding that ‘her needs were greater than Ron.’ He spends time with her and comforts her.
Harry, again more assertively than in PoA, actively calls out Ron for being unkind to Hermione and immediately goes to comfort her.
A long way along the table, Hermione was sitting alone, playing with her stew. Harry noticed Ron looking at her furtively.
‘You could say sorry,’ suggested Harry bluntly.
‘What, and get attacked by another flock of canaries?’ muttered Ron.
‘What did you have to imitate her for?’
‘She laughed at my moustache!’
‘So did I, it was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen.’
We see that now Harry is way more defensive in defiending Hermione, providing way more support while in PoA he was more passive, being apologetic and reprimanding Ron but not as aggressively while now he defends Hermione for laughing ‘unkindly’ at Ron’s stupid moustache. This shows his character development, from passively defending Hermione to actively defending her, growing past the maturity he had as a thirteen year old boy.
#harry potter#harry potter fandom#harry potter fanfiction#hermione granger#harmione#harry x hermione#harmony#harry james potter#harry potter books#harry potter canon
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Full Moon Spoilers: The Final Scene
I have some thoughts.
Okay let me start with saying, the Stolas & Blitzo conversation should not have been relegated to the last 5 minutes of the episode. I think the rushed nature of the conversation doomed any chance of it being a satisfying exchange between these two characters that covers the full reality of their situation. I’m listing this up front because a lot of my grievances could have been resolved with more time, which the team spent on 15 minutes of lead up that I believe were ultimately unnecessary to the show's central plot and actively hinder the direction the showrunners want the story to go in.
During the episode he acknowledges that Blitzo is in a horrible situation. He states that the deal was wrong, implicitly acknowledging guilt for thrusting it unto Blitz and trying to resolve that by giving him the Azmodean crystal. He has decided to end things, and goes through with it even though he displays clear interest in Blitzo’s advances.
Then what does he do when Blitzo assumes that Stolas hasn’t changed? When Blitzo believes that Stolas, the person who he has only had transactional relations with, is setting up a new kind of transaction?
Instead of further ensuring Blitzo and trying to clear the air. He throws a tantrum. When things didn’t immediately resolve in his favor. Then he immediately goes into blaming Blitzo for only thinking about sex in their, again, transactional relationship. This gets worse because Stolas doesn’t wait to establish a healthy non romantic/sexual relationship before insinuating that he is still interested in Blitzo sexually, opening Blitzo up to misunderstanding his intent… then not being willing to clarify his intent.
“I have wanted you for so long, the fact that you couldn’t believe that I might have these feelings about you, that your first instinct is that it’s always about sex… that’s enough to know what this is.”
My brother in christ, you confront him about this during the sex deal night and don’t expect him to expect sex? You give him ~10 seconds to react to this information before deciding you don’t want to deal with his emotions anymore because they aren’t what you wanted?
The monologue that Blitzo had after that was completely justified and extremely gratifying to hear.
“Fuck you Stolas! You spring this feelings bullshit on me, are you fucking kidding?” - “Can I get a fucking minute to think after everything you put me through?” - “You can’t just dismiss me like that.”
After that sincere outburst, instead of Stolas recognizing what Blitzo is saying and taking some accountability or apologizing… he reacts with
“I didn’t realize you think so low of me.”
HUH? What happened to the transactional deal not being right? Surely if he knows he isn’t right, he knows that Blitzo would probably have a pretty low opinion of him? Breaking the deal doesn’t make his victim required to forgive him, especially not within 5 minutes.
Sidenote but: Stolas’s desire for immediate reconciliation is compounded by the fact that Stolas buries the lead at the beginning of their conversation. He keeps things vague with statements like “I need [the grimoire] back permanently” and “I’ve made up my mind” that lead Blitzo to believe he is being fired. I don’t really believe that the way that Stolas talks here speaks to his character, it reads more like bad writing in favor of a misunderstanding to get Blitzo worked up. It doesn’t seem in character to dwell like this, you could argue it is nerves but I’d argue there is no positive reaction to those first few sentences and Stolas isn’t socially inept enough to fail to realize that.
Honestly, if they were gearing up to have Stolas as a villain still and if Blitzo hadn’t had an apology cut off, I would have loved this exchange as it characterizes Stolas as a villain very well. It shows that Stolas still doesn’t care about Blitzo, just the version of Blitzo he has built in his head in excruciating detail. It shows that despite Stolas trying to make amends through words and actions, he still can not face the hurt that he has caused his victim and will run away when confronted with them. Unfortunately I’m pretty sure the writers are just going to make Blitzo into the one that Stolas hoped would fall into his arms immediately. So whatever.
#full moon episode spoilers#helluva boss spoilers#helluva boss critique#helluva boss critical#vivziepop critical#dys rants
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Warm Winter
Non!idolHoshi x Gn!reader (Happy Birthday Hoshi!)

Established relationship, slight angst (barely any tbh), lots of toothrotting fluff, 594 words.
Your boyfriend has been taking you on multiple dates this past month but he’s been acting too out of character. Is he about to break up?
ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ
“Soonyoung I’m cold.” You say as you walk side by side with your boyfriend.
“Told you to bring your own jacket, can’t give you mine tonight.” He mumbles back.
“You’re horrible.” You reply, sinking into your scarf to try and keep yourself warm.
“I liked the restaurant we went to last week better.” You try to start a conversation with a sigh only to be met with silence.
“Soonyoung!” You shout to capture his attention.
“W-what?” He stutters as you bring him back to reality.
“I said I liked the restaurant last year better.” You repeat yourself.
“Is that so?” He mumbles, “I liked this one more.” He finishes his sentence as he starts walking again, at a much faster space.
You furrow your brows at his actions, your boyfriend is usually hyperactive and excited at your dates but today he seems to be so out of character. Stuttering at his words and looking around nervously as if he wants to say something but can’t seem to get the words out.
Your brain begins to start spiralling as you start thinking of the worst possible scenario and the conclusion you come up with is that he is trying to break up with you.
You stop walking next to him and your thoughts are confirmed once he keeps going without noticing you being left behind.
“SOONYOUNG!” You shout after he is ahead of you, grabbing his attention immediately as his head comically turns around.
He begins rushing towards you, rubbing his hands to keep himself warm.
“What are you doing back there?” He asks in confusion.
“Cmon y/n let’s get home, you said you’re feeling cold.” He gives you an awkward smile as he takes your hands into his own.
“No.” You flatly disagree.
“No?” He repeats as his head tilts in confusion.
“Y/n can we not do this here? Please?” He’s almost begging and tears begin to fill your eyes.
“Are you trying to break up with me?” You barely let out.
“Break up??!” He almost shouts, more shocked than you.
“D-don’t be silly! You know I love you so much.” He speaks out confidently as he puts your hand into his jacket pocket.
You lean your head on his shoulder, “I love you too Soonyoung.” You mumble before you feel something in the pocket of his jacket.
You take the object into your hand and there’s a comical realisation on his face once he realises you can feel the velvet box in your hand, there’s no doubt about it because he sees the way your eyes shine as you turn to him.
“Is that what I think it is?” You excitedly ask, waiting for his response.
His cheeks turn bright red, “Y/n let go, this was supposed to be a surprise!” He whispers through gritted teeth, visibly embarrassed about ruining his own proposal.
“Oh my god! Soonyoung!! And here I thought you were going to break up with me.” You hum out in a sing-songy tone.
“Is that what all the expensive restaurants and dates were about?” You gasp out loud at your detective skills.
“Can we not do this here?” He whines out like a child.
You put your hands on your waist as u begin walking again, “let’s go home Soonyoung, don’t wanna wait longer to be engaged!” You speak out in a teasingly manner as you realise he is no longer walking next to you; you turn around calling his name only to find him on one knee, with the ring now on his hand.
“Will you marry me Y/n?”
ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ
Thank you so much for reading! Sorry it took me so long to update, been busy with my exams lately lol.
All feedback is appreciated and requests are open as always.
Read more of my work:
Masterlist
#seventeen#seventeen scenarios#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x you#svt#hoshi fanfic#kwon hoshi#hoshi x reader#hoshi smut#hoshi#kwon soonyoung#soonyoung scenarios#soonyoung smut#soonyoung fluff#soonyoung x reader#kwon soonyoung x reader#kwon soonyoung x you#svt smut#svt scenarios#svt x y/n#svt x you#svt x reader#svt fluff#svt fanfic#svt angst#hoshi angst#seventeen fluff#hoshi fluff
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A fair and balanced look at MHA chapter 431
To all of my fellow bakudeku and togachako truthers out there: I see you, I hear you, and your disappointment is valid. I agree with a lot of the criticism. However, I have a lot of nuanced thoughts, and I will attempt to write them down in a balanced way, so bear with me. I will also treat the leaks as though they were confirmed for now.
(This post became an essay so I'll divide it into subheadings for clarity.)
Reminder: Be kind
Before I get into this, I'd like to remind everyone to please be kind and understanding when having this discourse. I get that there are strong feelings involved, but please don't harass the creators or other members of the community. Remember that at the end of the day this is fiction, and no one has the right to dictate how others view it or consume it. You are allowed to express your opinions and feelings, but try to be respectful to those who don't share them. No matter what side of the issue you stand on.
Queer relationships in shounen
First of all, I understand that it's disappointing when potential queer relationships are sidelined in favour of compulsory heterosexuality. But I can't say that I'm surprised. The standards and norms of depicting relationships in shounen manga go deep, and while it would be nice to see them challenged, we have to remember that there is an entire industry behind these decisions. I'm talking about genre conventions, authorial decisions (affected by unconscious biases), editors, publishers and a whole lot of moving parts. There's a lot of money involved, which means that any changes to the conventions will happen at a snail's pace. I am not excusing the decisions Horikoshi made, but it's good to be mindful that the decisions don't take place in a vacuum. I went into the series with the full expectations that none of the same-sex relationships would be made canon, so I'm not overtly disappointed with that being the case. It's the same expectation I take to any shounen series.
It's obviously worthwhile to question and challenge conventions like these, that's how progress is made. But focusing on a specific author's specific choices might not be the best way to go about it. Although it's worth pointing out that Horikoshi didn't have to make any relationship canon, yet chose to do so. Let me get into that.
Why IzuOcha falls flat
There is no denying that izuocha seems to have been the end goal from the very beginning. She's the first girl, Izuku took immediate notice of her, and her feelings for him became her entire character for a while. It's a cute ship, I guess. The issue is that it lacks any real depth. I'm going to be completely honest with you: I don't think Horikoshi is very good at writing compelling female characters. A lot of the male characters get amazing character arcs, while many female heroes only get a couple of cool moments (full of fanservice) and are promptly discarded. Himiko and Ochako, who have the most compelling female relationship of any kind in the entire series, fail the very simple Bechdel test miserably. Half of their conversations literally revolve around the male protagonist.
I believe this is why many of us prefer bakudeku over izuocha. The boys just get much better character development both as individuals and in relation to each other. Izuku and Ochako's moments don't cut nearly as deep, and while they do somewhat further Ochako's character development, they seem to have no bearing on Deku's character. Meanwhile Uraraka's conflict with Toga meaningfully challenges and alters both characters' worldview, even though their relationship had much less time and opportunities to develop. To me this whole situation just reads as Horikoshi giving Deku a canon love interest early on, then failing to develop the relationship and having to rush it to get the ending he intended.
Character study: Izuku and Katsuki 8 years later
Now I'll ignore authorial intent for a while and ponder on how the leaked chapter reflects on the character development of my main boys. I'm actually not that mad about the decisions Deku makes in this (forced romance aside). I seem to be in the minority that's fine with Deku losing OFA and becoming a teacher, because I actually think it suits him perfectly. In chapter 430 I mostly took issue with him being lonely for eight years and then jumping the gun to become a hero again, which seemed kinda contradictory. If he was truly contented with being a teacher, they could've made it clearer. Though I'm not going to lie, Kacchan funding his battle armor was incredibly cute. In the leaked chapter, it almost feels like they were trying to reinforce the notion that Deku is happy with his life as a teacher, which feels a little forced, but I can respect it. You have to remember that he's been quirkless for eight years and has had time to come to terms with it. People change a lot in eight years. I barely recognise the person I was eight years ago. So what rubbed me the wrong way wasn't that he rejected Kacchan's roundabout offer but the way he rejected it. Like the guy's really hung up on you, the least you could do is let him down easy.
What I think is an especially hard pill to swallow is the distance between Kacchan and Deku. Unfortunately, it also kinda tracks. Hear me out. Their relationship maintained its intensity because of the rivalry. It motivated their respective personal growths, it pushed them further, and it tied them closer together. And it was magnificent. What we see here is that Katsuki is still driven by the will to compete, but Izuku isn't. He's a teacher now, he's got lives to change, he can't be bothered with competition and numbers. While Deku was building his new identity and new life, Kacchan was still hung up on the past: He was collecting funds for the suit to get Deku back into the game, he was rejecting sidekicks who didn't spark the same joy in him, and he was slowly dropping in the charts because he didn't have Deku to push him to try (also something about his personality, I'll just let it slide). I think in this chapter we kind of see him finally accept it. He doesn't push a hero suit on a rival and urge him on anymore, instead he forms an offer to join him as an unrelated question about if Deku's still intent on teaching. Since he says yes, Kacchan won't even bring the agency offer up; Kirishima has to translate the intention. Which is where I think Deku's answer has uncharacteristically little tact.
Does Kacchan deserve a better ending than this? ABSOLUTELY. Does the ending we get counter the character development seen so far? I don't think so. The sad reality is that people do grow up, and I see the ending we get as one possibility that reflects that. I would've also been happy with an ending where Deku keeps OFA and the boys go be gay fight crime for the rest of their lives together, but in all honesty, Deku coming a full circle back to quirklessness is more thematically satisfying to me. Mind you, none of this means that the relationship between these two isn't important to them. It just means that it was always bound to change, adapt and grow to a different direction. Kacchan's final goodbye may seem like an important moment that was completely brushed off, or you can see it as not being important because it's not a goodbye. These two men will continue to be part of each other's lives. And now I kind of want to read comfort fics about what their new relationship and domestic life would look like.
Brief togachako tangent
I said in an earlier post that I will be a togachako truther until the day I die, and I stand by that. In my book, it's already canon. Though sadly, it was also doomed. I'm a little conflicted on the whole thing. On one hand, I think Toga had a satisfying character arc, but on the other hand, we mostly just got our gays buried. Still, purely from a character perspective, I don't see her pushing Uraraka to live her life as a problem. Toga would definitely not want Uraraka to dwell on her memories and guilt. They seem to be bound together by blood now, and that won't change. Neither of them gain anything if Ochako denies herself happiness by not pursuing other relationships. Still, I understand the criticism in a narrative sense. It does come off as a queer character used as a device to push forward a comphet relationship. I just want them both to be happy.
Final thoughts: Canon is not law
I have shared my complicated thoughts and feelings on this presumed final chapter. You are obviously allowed to disagree with me, and your thoughts and feelings are just as valid as mine.
I think it's important to remember that you don't have to treat canon as law. The canonicity of something has never dictated how you should interact with the media. Obviously the author making something canon has a bearing on their story, but that's just what it is. It's their story. Which means that we don't have any say in what they decide to do with it, but they also have no say in how we make their story our own. If the ending is left open, it's left open for a reason. You get to interpret what happens next based on your reading of the story.
So please go create fan content where Izuku keeps his powers and hero status and where he keeps his rivalry alive, or write a fanfic about his life as a teacher. Go explore how the thing with Uraraka develops (I trust that many of you would do a better job than Horikoshi), or ignore that part completely. Write about Uraraka's blood bond with Toga, maybe their relationship is still worth exploring post-mortem. Hell, make it a polyship between the girls and Deku. And there are so many things about Deku and Bakugou's relationship as adults that I'd read about and see fanart of, whether or not you take my interpretation of them into account.
#rant post turned essay#if only I could find the same passion for my master's thesis#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha#bnha#mha spoilers#bnha spoilers#mha fandom#mha manga spoilers#bnha leaks#mha 431#mha epilogue#mha deku#izuku midoriya#katsuki bakugou#himiko toga#ochako uraraka#bakudeku#bkdk#izuocha#izch#togachako#character analysis
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alsgakdgaksh sorry I know you just answered my request but, but, but what about dcst characters reacting to a reader who has a problem with daydreaming (maladaptive daydreaming)
basically they get so lost in their mind that they start acting out or quoting(? their thoughts, from the outside it just kinda looks like they're talking to themselves but they've got a whole movie in their mind 😭 (i legitimately subconsciously tripped myself because i imagined a character falling to the floor)
take care and don't rush <333
whooo this was a doozy. had to do a little research for this one, so i get to give yall some good rep or atleast make it feel a little more accurate tehee. anyways with this population sampling liberty ive decided to get 5 characters, 4 guys and 1 girl. enjoy 😋.
"𝔇𝔞𝔶𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔯?"
[𝖣𝖢𝖲𝖳 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗐/ 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋.]
𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙠𝙪 𝙄𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙞
Might be a little confused at first. Like, especially if it's at random times. Maybe he's busy tinkering with something, and you're in the same room. You do or say something and he automatically goes "huh?" because he thinks you're talking to him and you go "huh."
It takes some adjusting for him, but he learns much faster than the others. Though it's kinda funny during the beginning stages because whenever you said something aloud he'd pause whatever he was doing to stare at you blankly, and if you didn't look his way after a few seconds he'd take it as you weren't talking to him and resume his business.
He's a curious bugger tho so he obviously glances over at you sometimes to see what you were doing, whether you were both alone or not.
Seeing as your attention is a little harder to grab, he's got a custom habit of either patting or holding your shoulder. Like "yo [name]," and a little shoulder tap.
But with this development, it seems you've also learned to do the same. Now that he's used to you talking to yourself, to show that you're speaking to him, you have to either tap him or say his name.
Overall, pretty chill about it, even talks to you a lot just to pull you out sometimes.
𝙏𝙖𝙞𝙟𝙪 𝙊𝙠𝙞
Our sweet, underrated, heart of gold who I couldn't find nice aesthetic manga banners for (sorry for the jumpscare). Bet you didn't expect to see him on the list, huh?
Just a little longer in terms of adjusting. Like Senku, is a little confused and goes "?" when you do things randomly. Sometimes, you are interrupted because whenever he is in vicinity he's just bombarding you with questions.
"Hi! What are you doing?" "Were you talking to me?" "What's that mean?" "Were you saying something?" "What is that gesture?"
You either give him a very detailed description about the scenario in your head or just BS it.
"I was communicating with the trees." "Wow! Really? You can do that?" Accepts whatever choice you pick anyway. He will listen intently and he will take it literally. An open chance to tell him whatever you want and he would not suspect you at all. He is very intrigued at this new type of acorns called "Deez" that you found in the forest. Apparently it's part of the "Ligma" family of trees? Wow!
Easily snaps you out of your daydreams because his voice is just loud enough to do so.
You get to enthuse with him sometimes, and he will happily listen.
𝙏𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙖𝙨𝙖 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙤
Also a little underrated, I swear.
Problem with Tsukasa is that he's a little nonverbal so when you do or say something, he just stares at you. Hulk of a man watches in confusion as you play out a whole soap opera or something.
But hey, what is Tsukasa if not a kind and gracious man?
Tries to understand you, and is a good listener if you ever need a guy to ramble to about this. And hey, gives him more insight on your mind in general.
Keeps a slightly closer eye on you, or is just more aware of your predicament in general.
This Tarzan would genuinely be gentle about it like he'd check up on you and stuff. Talk to you, or even sit down with you, maybe a little chitchat.
I imagine you as a duo would be him sipping nice tea and enjoying the garden meanwhile you accidentally drop your cookie in the milk so you borrow his teaspoon just to scoop it out and he lets you. Very weird analogy but he is just kind??
An enigma, overall doesn't change his usual equitable treatment towards you.
𝙆𝙤𝙝𝙖𝙠𝙪
I already had a vision of her reaction to this. Like, as an inquisitive type, she'd most likely ask you questions all about it as soon as she notices it. More answers lead to more questions. Forgive her, she's only curious.
Similar to Tsukasa, she wants to be aware and informed. Wants to know about what you're thinking about sometimes. "Hmmm..." and just watches you from the branches.
Of course, watchful, and vigilant. Observer type. If ever you're too out of it to notice something potentially harmful coming your way (or vice versa), she'd be there to tug you back to reality.
She's most likely less patient than Tsukasa, not the type for a sit down kind of conversation, but would still let you ramble while you both pick apples or smthn.
Overall a nice gal who wouldn't mind it at all.
I feel like she's the complete opposite of a daydreamer, so it's hard for her to understand what it's like. Still, she tries to be considerate and talks with you whenever she can as a way to learn about it.
#yawwwn#sorry if its a little quality dip at the end i got a bit sleepy#sen writes !#sunset prints !#x reader#dcst fanfic#dr stone fanfic#dr stone#dr stone x reader#dcst#ishigami senku#senku ishigami#taiju oki#tsukasa shishio#shishio tsukasa#kohaku#dr stone kohaku#dr stone tsukasa#dr stone senku#dr stone taiju#sen accepts !#sen answers !
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reflections.

pairing: jongho x f!reader
genre: smut/pwp, best friend!jongho
warnings/topics: there’s quite a bit of plot before it gets to the actual smut, slight angst in the beginning, y/n goes through a breakup, lots of kisses and comfort, dacryphilia, pussy eating, protected vaginal sex, praises, excessive use of pet names, biting, marking, cocky jongho(?).
word count: 1.9k
she threw her phone across the floor after seeing even more photos on his story, deciding that she couldn’t bear to look any longer. it only increased the intensity of the pain in her chest, and she really couldn’t take that feeling in a stronger dose at the moment. her head fell into her hands; she knew she couldn’t contain the noises of her compressed sobs anymore.
as soon as she looks up to catch her breath, the sound of a key turning into her front door’s lock is heard. that’s when it dawned on her.
y/n hadn’t answered her best friend, jongho, in days. he was the only other person who had a key to her apartment.
before she could even attempt to compose herself, jongho pushed the door open and rushed in with a sense of panic and worry oozing from his body. “y/n? are you hom- oh.”
once jongho turned his head in the direction of the living room, he paused in his tracks and his words. he ran over to y/n, immediately kneeling in front of her wilting character. his hand made its way to y/n’s face, gently wiping the running tears from her cheeks. the other one went to her shoulder as a way to comfort her; he ran his hand up and down the small of her back as he scanned over her current state.
“y/n, what’s been going on these last few days? does it have something to do with that asshole? everyone’s been worried about you, y’know,” jongho spoke with his eyebrows furrowed; his eyes were glossed over with a pleading expression— he knew y/n wasn’t one to really open up about major problems, but this seemed way too serious for it to have just been ignored.
y/n sniffled, finally looking up to meet jonghos eyes. she frowned deeply, causing jongho to give her a sympathetic look. “it’s him… he– he dumped me, and i think he was cheating on me?” y/n hiccupped on her words, speaking with an unsure tone at the end. she went to reach for her phone that she previously thrown away from herself, but jongho quickly blocked her hand and proceeded to push the device even farther away from her reach.
“that’s so fucking expected of him too, god,” he paused, attempting to regain his composure after hearing what y/n had been so upset about over the last few days. “listen. everyone knew he wasn’t shit since the day he came into your life. he doesn’t deserve you, y/n. there’re so many other people who would treat you way better than he ever could— people who would cherish every part of you and not treat you like just another bitch in their contacts.”
jongho was seething. he knew his words were harsh, but he truly just wanted the best for his best friend. seeing her treated horribly by a man that was less than worthy of her attention was the quickest way to see jongho as angry as possible.
“well, i don’t know what i’m supposed to be treated like. i’ve only ever dated people like him, and now you’re telling me that i deserve way better? what does that even mean, jongho?” y/n questioned. her tears were now fully dried against her face, and the only noise that sounded throughout the room were her periodic sniffles and the occasional sighs from jongho.
“well,” jongho muttered in an almost mocking tone. his face was now closer to hers than it ever has been, which led y/n to wonder if jongho had always been this beautiful, or if it was just her mind’s desperate attempt at trying to forget her ex. “let me show you what that means, doll.”
before y/n even has a chance to process jongho’s words, he moves in to close the gap between their lips, kissing y/n with a feeling that couldn’t be any more foreign to her; love. y/n knew the intensity of jongho’s kisses and passion was definitely not something shared between friends. she decided she would confront him about it later; right now, she only wanted to focus on forgetting.
jongho slowly moved from y/n’s lips, down to her neck, painting it with dozens of sensual kisses and bites. he took his sweet time, as his whole goal was for y/n to take in and cherish how it feels to be truly appreciated by someone.
y/n would release airy moans each time jongho nipped at her skin– she could feel the blood rush to the surface of her skin, causing an overwhelming feeling to bubble in the pit of her stomach. “jongho, please, t-too slow,” y/n whimpered quietly from the agonizing pace jongho was progressing at. luckily, he took the hint from her words, immediately lifting y/n up from the floor— bridal style— and bringing her to the couch in her living room. He figured that would be more comfortable than the floor regardless.
“are you alright to keep going?” jongho speaks softly, almost in a whisper. y/n quickly responded to him with a stern nod, her head in a downturned position as she was fixated on jongho’s hands. she was this close to begging for his touch; y/n was sure jongho could feel her desperation at this point.
jongho sighed, using his index finger and thumb to lift her head up, forcing their eyes to meet before he spoke once again, “let’s use our words, sweetheart, hm? are you alright to keep going?” jongho’s gaze was strong and intimidating, causing y/n to look away quickly. she would be lying if she said the way he looked at her didn’t turn her on, and she knew if she met his eyes again, she’d moan from how dominant the gaze he held was. not that jongho would mind, anyway.
“yes, jongho, please, you don’t need to be so gentle,” y/n pleaded— she was more than certain that jongho wasn’t usually like this; his soft demeanor was most definitely because he was considering her current fragile mindset.
jongho only gave a smile at her words. he immediately went to pull y/n’s shirt over her head, to which she lifted her arms to allow him easier access for the action. once the shirt is off, he throws it to the ground, proceeding to pepper kisses from along y/n’s breasts, traveling down to her midriff. he cherished every portion of her body, almost as if he was worshipping it. eventually, jongho couldn’t handle any more of y/n’s breathy moans paired with the fall and rise of her stomach against his face.
jongho swiftly hooked his fingers onto the waistband of y/n’s sweats, pushing them down below her ankles and onto the floor. she wore a pair of lacy pastel pink panties that perfectly hugged her figure and complimented her complexion. he pressed his thumb gently against y/n’s clothed clit, earning a whimper from y/n’s lips as her legs attempted to squeeze shut. jongho pried them open, holding them in place as his lips placed even more kisses across her inner thigh, inching closer and closer to her core. he removed his finger, quickly pulling y/n’s underwear down where they joined the pile of clothes that slowly grew on the ground. jongho replaced his finger with his lips, now using his tongue to lap up the slick that oozed out of y/n’s hole. her moans increased in volume as jongho tongue fucked her gently and fastly— it was obvious that he’d had previous experience. y/n’s legs were basically trapping jongho in his current position, as the pleasure from his tongue was too intense for her legs to stay open.
soon enough, y/n came on jongho’s tongue, eliciting screams from her lips as jongho sucked on her clit to help her ride out the climax. her body shook from overstimulation, tears forming at the corners of her eyes before they fell down her cheeks.
“jongho, please— need you inside of me, i can’t,” y/n spoke, albeit incoherently, but jongho still understood what she was asking for. he removed his face from her wet folds, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie before bringing his face back up to hers. he carefully took in her current state— the fucked out look plastered across her face, the panted breaths that could be heard from up close, and the tears on her face that glistened in the light. jongho could feel his pants tighten even more than they already were at the sight, physically holding himself back from trailing his tongue across the stream of tears.
“i know, doll, you’re doing so well already, just be patient, okay? just for me, pretty girl,” jongho spoke softly, unbuttoning and unzipping the fly of his jeans, stripping his clothes off quickly. he grabbed a condom from the inside of his wallet, briskly ripping open the package with his teeth before rolling it onto his erect cock. he desperately lined it up with her entrance, teasing y/n slightly by tapping his tip against her clit. she mewled in frustration, to which jongho giggled, “alright, i’m sorry love, i’ll stop teasing— god, you’re so pretty like this,” jongho groaned as he sunk into her pussy slowly, allowing time for her to adjust to his size. the room was filled with sinful noises as jongho thrusted roughly into y/n, abusing her cervix as the slaps of skin and moans were the only things to linger around them.
“he’s never fucked you like this, hm? i bet he’s never heard all your beautiful sounds like this, hm, doll?” jongho mutters as he fucked at an animalistic pace, chasing both of your highs with his thrusts.
“yes, n-never, fuck, i’m so close, please, jongho,” y/n whined, quickly getting cut off as loud moans erupted from her throat yet again. jongho’s groans became more audible as his climax bubbled up inside of him, sweat dripping from his forehead as he bottomed out inside of y/n. the duo came at the same time, almost as if their climaxes were synced together. he released a vocal moan as his cum spilled inside the condom.
as jongho pulled out, y/n whimpered from the sudden emptiness inside of her. she felt as if she couldn’t even move with the numb and static feeling that plagued her body.
“feeling okay, sweetheart? come on, i’ll run you a bath, you look exhausted,” jongho smiled, returning to his gentle self once everything had finished.
y/n only gave him a nod, feeling too tired to speak. jongho understood, quickly slipping on his boxers again before lifting y/n up into his arms and carrying her to the bathroom.
y/n couldn’t thank jongho enough for deciding to check on her today.
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