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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 5 months ago

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Wishing On Golden Stars [1]

Welcome to Teyvat

genre: isekai, slow burn, fluff, hurt/comfort, humor(?)

warning(s)!!!: tenryou samurai being rude lmao (good cop/bad cop situation)

chapter w.count: 4k

a/n: welcome to the first chapter of my isekai, kamisato ayato series! buckle in buckos, it's gonna be a long ride c:

The final chime of the bell attached to the convenience store door rang as the shift lead more than eagerly crossed the room to lock the entrance for the day. Letting out a collective sigh of relief that the day was finally done, you both slump into less-than-ideal postures. You're left leaning over the counter, your company-issued polo feeling way too hot and uncomfortable from the amount of sweat it had soaked up from your last-minute rush of people who just had to wait until almost closing to do their shopping. Popping open a few buttons, you look up to see the shift lead heading back in your direction doing the exact same thing.

“Thanks again for agreeing for the last minute cover,” the lead, who’s name tag read Max, comes to the counter and turns so his back is against it to lean and soak in the newly acquired quiet of the store. Max was a pretty good guy, taking college courses online on top of working himself to the bone for a company that would probably never remember his name if not for his badge.

“It’s not like I was busy, so it’s fine,” you reassure. It wasn’t a lie anyway. Genshin had gone down for a 5 hour maintenance that day, and while you could’ve done something else to pass the time like watch a new show or even go out and walk, an extra shift for bringing in money didn’t sound like such a horrible pastime. Straightening out from your slumped over position on the counter, you direct your eyes to the flickering digital clock hanging on the wall that really needs new batteries soon.

10:07 PM

Perfect.

“I’ll make sure to have Sam cover for you tomorrow since she was the one who was supposed to work with me today.” Normally, this would be something you turn down since an extra shift would typically push you into overtime, and like it or not, that was more extra moola in your pocket. Still, the facts at hand were that the maintenance was finished and new stories and quests had been added to Genshin. And the kicker? New banners had just begun to run and you hadn’t been saving up for nothing!

“That’d be nice. I have some plans that take place far into tomorrow morning.”

“Pulling another all-nighter on that one game you play?”

“Yup,” you ashamedly admit. It wasn’t a secret that a big chunk of your down time went into your games. Why would you feel ashamed about something you like? Be it a game or tv show or anything else. It made you happy so of course, you’d work around it as much as you could. Besides, it wasn’t the only thing you did- you weren’t a complete shut in. It was also the middle of winter, so being outside wasn’t on your agenda. “The servers were down today, but it should be back up now. I’m going to be playing through some new quests.”

Standing fully up, you stretch and start making your way to the back room where your bag and jacket sit patiently in a locker with your name on it via a tacky store-bought (and customized) magnet. You can hear Max’s footsteps fall in step with your own. You were sure he was eager to get home too.

In the back, while you both gathered your things, mindless conversation that held no real topics came and went. Asking about how his classes were and if he had a paper due soon that he’d have to rush home and complete. He was more of a social butterfly than you, so he took the reigns on most conversations he found himself involved in.

“Do you need me to walk you back? You live in a pretty nasty neighborhood don’t you?”

“Oh, no, don't worry about it. I don't live anywhere sketchy like that.” You chose to leave out the fact that even if you don’t live in a sketched-out part of town, you do have to walk through one to get to your apartment though. If you told Max that, there’s no telling the lecture you’d get as he marches with you back home without argument. Besides, you’ve walked it hundreds of times back and forth already since you moved and got this job… and it wasn’t like you didn’t have pepper spray and a compact stun gun on you anyway. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Be careful!” He calls as you start the normal trek back home. Normally the only weirdo’s out at this time were drunkards you could easily kick in the groin and give a harsh shove into a wall to make a quick getaway. When someone comes rushing around a corner of an alley, you yelp at the sudden appearance. Their shoulder checks into yours and from the sound of their (his?) gasp, he didn’t expect someone to be around the way either.

Both of you stumble, and you feel him grab your bicep and yank you so you don’t trip off the curb into the road. His fingers catch onto the strap of your bag that rests over your shoulder and in the midst of making sure he wasn’t going to start yanking you around some more, you neglect to see the small object drop easily into the pit of your bag.

“S̶o̵r̸r̴y̴” he mumbles before he’s rushing off away from the scene. You stand there on the sidewalk for a moment wondering what that was all about and what his deal is. And why his voice sounded so... fake to you.

‘Is it me, or did he sound kinda… weird?’ You stand bewildered for a moment longer before dismissing it all. Thinking about it would only make you nervous, so shaking the thoughts away was the best course of action. You promptly spin on your heel and with a little more speed to your steps, high tail it home.

Your desk chair never felt more welcoming. You drop your bag on the floor beside your desk and promptly sit yourself down to boot up your computer. The game resources would take a few minutes to download, so while that was running, you rush to get a few snacks and drinks that would make an all-nighter easier to pull off. Shutting off your main light, you flick on the desk lamp you kept beside your monitor. By the time all was said and done, you remembered you should probably text Max that you made it back safely. He would go full ‘big brother’ mode on you if you didn’t.

Digging around your bag for your phone, you pull it out, and with your action, a small item flings out of your bag with it. Hearing it dully hit the ground, you push your chair back and see a small hard object under your desk. Dragging it closer with your toes, you pick it up and examine it under the desk light.

“A piece of candy? No, maybe a trinket or… charm? Where did this come from?” Looking around your room, you look to see if maybe this small item- which with its colors of blue and lilac weaved together looked oddly familiar- had fallen off something you forgot you owned. Coming up short with theories on the origin of the piece of (possible) candy or knocked loose charm, you shrug it off and toss it ceremoniously in the trash bin under your desk by your legs. “Whatever,” you roll closer to your desk and after a click of your mouse, that familiar entry door into the game appears and allows you entry.

Instead of immediately starting to pull on the now-running Kamisato Ayato banner, you decide to knuckle down on some quests and dailies for just a few extra primos to up your chances of that beautiful, easy, golden 5-star man.

Ayato’s banner was one you have been waiting for. Playing through Inazuma (as painstaking as it could be) and meeting Thoma and Ayaka made you excited to meet the head of the family, Ayaka’s older brother. Playing through his character story, you were happy to see that he was as appealing as you hoped.

A cheeky and clever man who has been through more than his fair share of situations that try to lessen his imposing image. Being able to come up with plans that can not only put him in the place of playing ‘villain’ but also not directly involving himself was appealing. A man with the means to put together such a ploy and solely devote himself to the role- Teyvat better thank its lucky stars that he wasn’t an antagonist. Of course, it helped that he was a looker to boot. An exceedingly beautiful man if you’ve ever seen one.

“I’m getting him, come hell or high water,” is the mantra you keep repeating as your grind session continues until almost 3 in the morning. Feeling the creeping of about the hundreth yawn in your throat in the last 20 minutes, you lean your elbow on the desk before opening up the Wish menu. Curling your hand, it pushes into your cheek as your eyes droop dangerously close to shut and you yawn... again.

“Why am I so tired?” You mumble. Normally, pulling all-nighters wasn’t too hard for you. You could usually last until around 6 the next morning on a good day. Maybe work wore you out more than you bargained for since it was an unexpected shift.

You feel yourself slipping further into your palm as your head feels heavier by the second. Your finger clicks for yet another round of 10-pulls. You could hear the sound effects of the transition screen, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pry your eyes open again. A golden color lit up your room behind your eyelids but you were already far past the point of wondering if the five-star screen was always that bright or if maybe your lamp was about to explode from some random burst of overheating- even if it never had any issues before. Nothing else registered in your mind before you were completely falling asleep.

It was noisy.

Your mind wakes up before your body does, and that is the first thought you have. The noise. It was so loud. Way too loud for your bedroom that you know you just fell asleep in. You were playing your game, so maybe you were hearing in-game sounds and ambiance. Of course, that didn’t explain why you were on your back.

You could feel the hard surface of the floor against you, and while still only half-conscious at this point, it still crosses your mind on why it didn’t feel like your bedroom floor. It was like planks of wood were digging into your shirt and threatening your skin with splinters like anxious tiny spears against a giant.

Maybe you had fallen off your chair. If you had though, surely the fall would have woken you up. You weren’t so dead tired from working that you could stay asleep through the tumble of the chair to the floor. Not to mention you must’ve slept through the last few hours of the night because you could feel the sun warming your skin to a near-uncomfortable degree. It almost felt suffocating with the misty humidity hitting your face and assaulting your senses. The sound, feel, smell- all of it felt like you were washed up on some wharf.

Either you were lucid dreaming, or you had sleptwalked into the bathroom or something where you somehow turned the shower on.

Still, there was one thing you could try and rule out, and that was the occasional rough prodding of something solid jabbing into you every few seconds. A jab to the shoulder. A jab to your stomach. A jab to your leg. Even a nudge to your head that tossed your forward-facing position onto your cheek and hit that same wooden surface you feel under your back. Then the shouting starts to finally register in your eardrums.

“..up… ‘ey!” It sounded like a man? What was a man doing in your house? A police officer maybe? But that still didn’t make sense. For the first time since your consciousness started coming back to you, you groan. Your sideways resting head twitched and somehow you found the strength to swivel it back to face the sky. Eyes wrinkling at the bright sunlight behind your eyelids.

You feel small vibrations before hearing accompanying footsteps along the floor before another voice starts speaking. It was much closer than the one you could barely make out before.

“Miss.. ‘ear me… ‘llo?” It was softer, almost nicer to try and listen to. Good cop, bad cop sort of vibe.

You manage to crack your eyes open for just a moment before the closed-eyed warmth of the sun turns into a blinding flash bang that assaults your retinas. You hiss, chest jumping as your shoulders and arms twitch and tighten. The first signs of movement must’ve startled the people around you since you could feel their rushed steps in startlement through the floor. Moving your head slowly, you rock it from left to right trying to will a cloud over the sun; or if you were actually in the bathroom, for someone to draw a curtain or something.

You got your wish of shade when something hovers over your squeezed eyes. When the shade persisted with no signs of slipping away from you, you try once again to crack your eyes open.

Your vision was blurry. You could barely make out shapes, the world just a blob of converging colors and textures that started to register in your mind like code being processed. You must’ve hit your head way harder than you thought if you fell off your chair. Groaning was all you could do to communicate how uncomfortable you were in the current moment; that and the small shuffling movements of your limbs you could finally start moving.

The way the world shifted from blobs to shapes then into objects was astonishingly quicker than you expected and soon enough you were narrowly looking at a face you hadn’t seen before. Though, this stranger’s clothes looked oddly familiar to you. A cone-shaped hat that tied under his chin with a symbol on its front. Dressed in a uniform consisting of shades of dark purples- parts of it almost resembling armor. Laying on the floor- which you now see are planks of wood outside, so more so laying on the ground- next to him was a long spear-like object.

“Wha…” is all you can articulate at the confusion personified in front of you. The shade you had gained was given graciously by the man beside you lifting his hand to cover your eyes from the sun.

Your lethargic state was quickly swatted away by a sudden and painful jab to the stomach. Lurching up with a choked ‘Oomph!’, you jump into a coughing fit. Your arms come to fold over your gut as your body positions itself into a semi-half sitting-up angle. One of your arms comes to perch behind your back, holding you up and keeping you from flopping back onto the wooden ground as coughs scratch up your throat. You were parched.

“What are you doing?!” The man who had been crouching beside you this whole time had not only said a full complete sentence that you could actually understand but had shouted directly next to your ear. His bickering aimed at a man who had the same uniform and weapon as him. The standing guard- Bad Cop you’re guessing- had apparently grown restless and impatient as he lifted his spear and hovered it over your stomach before letting the butt end of it jam you in the gut. Hospitality was in the negatives with Bad Cop.

You felt Good Cop’s hand come to rest on your shoulder and you instinctively shrug it off. The realization of something being wrong finally starts to dawn on you. Maybe Bad Cop’s little assault was a good wake-up call after all… even if it was a jerk move.

Eyes wide with a fully functioning brain and processing intuition, you look beyond Good and Bad Cop and all around the area you were in. It was a dock… a port? On the edge of a small little town, there was a starting crowd beyond the wooden dock. Far off to the left up atop a cliff was a statue, one that was carved into the shape of a person, and even farther and higher than that were the beautifully pink and purple sparks of what seemed to be a shrine rising above all else.

With a yelp of recognition, your legs kick out and scurry your body back until you're dangerously close to toppling into the water at the edge of the dock.

“No way… there’s no way,” you mutter to yourself. “This has got to be some freaky dream. There’s just no way..!” That was clearly your denial talking. You’ve felt your fair share of pain- although none of it was lasting- to know if that this is a dream you would have woken up well long ago. Bad Cop, with a click of his tongue, stomps towards you and bends to snatch your arm in his palm before yanking. His rude attempts to get you on your feet are met with well-deserved resistance.

“On your feet! You have some explaining to do!” His voice boomed in your ear like it was bouncing off the ocean waves and back again. “Who are you? Where did you come from!”

“Let go of me!” His grip wasn’t gentle and you could feel your skin pinching painfully from his grip between his gloves. Since he had at least brought you to your feet, you plant them as firmly as you can into the wood beneath you before yanking back. He must’ve underestimated a washed-up person’s strength because you had ripped free easily, but all that power you put into your backward retreat lands you back on the ground. You hiss as you land on your side and scrape up your elbow. You could feel the burning sensation of broken skin and probable splinters making a new home in your arm.

You look back up to Bad Cop and your eyes shine with a glossy frustration.

“I don’t know how I got here! And what’s with your attitude! I’m not telling you anything with the way you’ve treated me- someone who's just as confused as you by the way!” That was a partial lie. In your heart of hearts, you know you’re in Inazuma. You have no idea how or why or what the hell is happening, but you weren’t about to tell him that. Good Cop- who had been anxiously kneeling with his arm barely outstretched in a poor attempt to mediate? Maybe. At least he was more or less kind. If not a tad whimpy.

“Outsiders are not permitted within the boundaries of Inazuma by demand of the Sakoku Decree! Now, how did you end up here!”

“I. Don’t. Know.”

While you and Bad Cop face off in the most pointless round of shouting roulette, there was a buzz circulating from the crowd that had fully gathered to witness the whole debacle. You took no notice of it or the person who had emerged from that buzz to step confidently onto the dock along with the three of you.

“Ah, good morning!” A bubbly, warm voice breaks the extremely tense atmosphere of the argument between Bad Cop and you. Shattered it so much that you were both rendered speechless for a moment before setting your sights on the newcomer. You choke back a gasp since any form of recognition was strictly off-limits unless you want Bad Cop to pick up on it and thus pick another fight.

In front of you, behind Good Cop who had finally risen to his feet with a relieved expression, was the ginger haired Thoma. His happy and friendly smile was present on his face like it was natural to break up fights on the street (on the dock?) with his hand raised in a relaxed, quick greeting. The Fixer himself had somehow come to your aid... you hope.

Being harassed by the Tenryou Commission and having Thoma show up and hopefully save your butt? You’re really getting the Traveler Treatment.

Thoma struts up to the three of you and claps his hand on the shoulder of Bad Cop, a small signal of ‘back up my friend, let's talk about this’. His quick glance towards you finally makes your shoulders slacken- you weren’t aware of just how tense your body was. Even your jaw started to ache from all the clenching you were doing.

“Let’s start from the beginning. Now, what’s the situation?” Bad Cop goes through the trouble of explaining- in his harsh tone- the sequence of events. They had shown up to the harbor for regular routine checks, and had found you unconscious on one of the wooden docks. They had tried waking you up, he leaves out that he had used his spear on your gut, and that when you woke up you started verbally attacking them.

“Now, hang on!” You almost screech when he finishes his spiel. His glare is overshadowed by the quizzical look of Thoma’s. “I did not ‘verbally attack’ anyone! I'm just as confused as you are and you slammed your stupid little spear into my stomach to wake me up. Remember that? It hurt you know! Of course I’d yell at someone so hostile!”

As you both started bickering once again, Good Cop anxiously tried to get a single word in, that was always drowned out while Thoma just watched. He couldn’t see a trace of deception on you; your face was the dictionary definition of confused and scared. Sure, you were full of fire at the moment, but given the opportunity to calm down maybe you’d realize just how you're really feeling instead of being so fired up. So, he saw no reason not to help you.

“For the time being, why not take them into custody of the Tenryou Commission?” Thoma pitches and your jaw drops in betrayal. Prison? You? Before, you could open your mouth to defend yourself, he starts again. “If they really have no memory of how they got here, then the safest place for them is a monitored location defended by guards. Right?” He looks at you and your jaw shuts with a small clack of teeth.

“You… might have a point.” A stupidly good point. “Fine,” you relent. There was no point in drawing it out. You really didn’t have anywhere to go, so at least a cell is a roof and protection from the elements. Bad Cop was fighting back a smug smile, you could see it tugging behind his teeth. “I’m not going anywhere with Ba- I mean, this guy though.” You cross your arms adamantly and mutter, “he’s been enough of a pain in more than one way.”

At your attitude, Thoma laughs. Even though it’s amusing, the calming atmosphere doesn’t deter him from the slight trembling of your hand tucked under your crossed arms.

“Of course. You can have your other Tenryou friend here escort you there,” he gestures to Good Cop and you nod. You can get behind that plan.

With little conversation left to be had, Bad Cop leaves the dock, Thoma speaks privately to Good Cop for a moment, and then soon you’re ushered off to Tenryou property where you’re expecting to be good friends with iron bars for an unforeseeable, undisclosed amount of time. The small wave Thoma gestures at you to come over has you walking cautiously his way. Once at his side, his back curves down as he cups around his mouth to your ear.

“Just bare with it. I’ll help you the best I can.”

He straightens back up and with a pat on the back, sends you off. Your first morning in Teyvat- as absolutely asinine as that sounds- is ending on a pretty low note. Jail time.

|- prev. / INDEX / next ->

a/n: its a slow start but you hAVE to trust me gang

#ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato #genshin impact #ayato x you #ayato x y/n #ayato fluff #genshin ayato #ayato angst #ayato hurt/comfort #ayato comfort #genshin impact ayato #genshin impact kamisato ayato #genshin impact x reader #genshim impact x you #genshin impact x y/n

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celtigxr · 7 days ago

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THE PINK DREAD - CH. 34 (Masterlist)

Chapter Summary: Dinner with the Valyrians. Goes as well as you'd think. Word Count: 4592 CHAPTER WARNINGS: STILL talking about menstrual blood. Only proof read once again. Not satisfied with this chapter, but it is what it is. Canon Episode Divergence.

Series tags: Aemond x Plus size!OfC, Aegon x Plus size!OfC, Celtigar!ofc, Plot with Smut, mdni 18+, Aemond End Game, Angst, Comedy, The Dragons Don't Dance, slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers.

Credits: Lace Banner by Aquazero, pearl divider by Pommecita

Notes: For people who are like me, that need a visual, I have made a google sheets image for you to understand where everyone is seated, lmao. The link the image is here Also, because I fumbled, just in case you missed it, last chapter I forgot to add in the image of Valeana's dress. It's up there now if you didn't get a chance to see it.

Valeana’s eyes trailed over to the statue at the other end of the ballroom, her eyes glued onto the middle dragon head caught in between the two others. She was very much in that position, but she felt less like a dragon and more like a lamb for the slaughter.

“Valeana,” a voice that belonged to neither of the princes that flanked her, snapped her out of her panic-induced paralysis. It was Lucerys, of all people, who had not even acknowledged her existence since the day of his arrival. “Blink twice if you’re in need of rescue.”

Rhaena elbowed him, but he only chuckled in response.

Aegon shifted beside her, his arm around her shoulder only loosening when he reached to grab his goblet to take a sip, his eyes never leaving Luke for a moment.

“I should congratulate you, nephew,” he briefly looked over at Rhaena with a tilt of his head. “You finally get to lie with a woman.”

Aemond hummed amusingly next to Valeana, his hand still clutched in hers. All she could do was use her right hand to pick at her food in front of her, though now she was too tense to eat anything substantial.

Luke’s smirk wavered as he regarded Aegon; he was clearly the more imposing son of Rhaenyra’s, but he did not lack insecurities. His legitimacy was the biggest one, but his worthiness of the gifts freely given to him was another. Jace was the honourable one, bound to duty and respect and etiquette. Luke was bound to the need to prove himself, as all second sons were.

Aegon leaned forward into the table, peering up at the Velaryon prince with raised brows, “You do know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle, where to put your cock and all that.”

“Let it be, Aegon,” Valeana put a placating hand on Aegon’s arm, but he was undeterred. Though the exchange had not gone amiss by Jace, who leaned in their direction.

“Uncle,” he called his attention, “You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue when there are ladies present.”

Aegon nodded mockingly, “Mhm.” He turned to Valeana, “You don’t mind my tongue, do you, Crab Cake?”

Before Valeana could respond beyond a wide glare and a slight flush to her cheeks, Rhaenyra was suddenly standing, moving slightly so she was not just addressing her table, but the room as a whole. Her arm was up, hand cradling a goblet in the air to present a toast.

“I wish to raise my cup to her Grace, the Queen,” The princes started, her voice loud enough to be heard by all. “I love my father. But, I must admit that no one has stood more loyally by his side than his good wife. When he was at his weakest, she tended to him with… unfailing devotion, love and honour. In our youth I always believed that our children would be destined to unify us, and it seems that it is in the Crone’s will that it be true. For my father, you have my gratitude, and my love… But you also have my apology.”

Alicent’s bottom lip wobbled as she looked up at her, her brown eyes glossing over so much that she had to turn away demurely to her plate, the ends of her lips tugging downward.

“Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess,” she sniffed as Rhaenyra slowly descended into her chair. Finally Alicent looked up, “We are both mothers… and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow.” At this point, Alicent ascended from her seat, her own goblet raised. “I raise my cup to you, and to your house. You will make a fine queen.”

Alicent’s final statement sent a ripple throughout the room. Six words that ended a decades old feud. Six words that ended the threat of usurpation. Aegon did not want to be King, he made that clear to his mother the other day, and Alicent was tired of fighting. Tired of plotting. In the end, they both won; her victory lay within her daughter, and Rhaenyra’s within her son, both destined to be one house once and for all.

At their own paces, everyone raised their goblets to Alicent’s tribute and took a sip as smiles were shared amongst friends. Valeana tipped her glass towards Jacaerys, and he to her, and then she did the same with Helaena. Aegon and Aemond did the same, though grudgingly before returning their cups to the table un-sipped.

Aemond’s hand hadn’t left Valeana’s the entire time. The heat of his palm was all encompassing, almost numbing to the point that she had forgotten it almost completely. It wasn’t until she felt him move her hand from the table that she realized it was still trapped in his. Valeana turned just in time to see Aemond bring the back of her palm to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss before returning it back to its original spot. His smile was kind, his gaze was loving, and Valeana was all nerves and fluttering moths.

Aegon downed his wine in one swallow and looked at the bottom of his cup with disdain. Valeana felt him move next to her, pushing back his chair and silently padding around until he was hovering at the end of the table next to Luke, and reached for the pitcher of wine that was sitting between him and Rhaena.

“I, um,” Aegon looks down as he pours himself a drink into his empty cup. His eyes lifted up to catch Rhaena’s before he continued. “I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer. But, if you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask–”

Fists bagged on the table, effectively shaking it from north to south. Lucerys stood abruptly, fiery onyx eyes on Aegon as he moved slowly back around the table, not a care in the world. The fair-haired prince settled back into his seat, flashing a displeased Valeana a faux innocent smile.

Aemond stood up, slowly and foreboding like the shadow of the Stranger. Valeana’s hand fell from his, her fingers suddenly became stiff and cold. Both he and Lucerys stared at each other from across the table, three threatening eyes between the two. Everyone in the room was now looking over at them, with baited breath and on the edges of their seats should something happen.

“Luke,” Rhaena placed a placating hand on her betrothed, which effectively pulled Luke’s attention away from Aemond and onto her. His thinned mouth eased, his cheeks dimpling as he smiled disingenuously.

Then Luke swiped his goblet, the remains dwindling down to mere drops after so many tributes. Silence befell the room once more, the peace that was once sowed now destroyed by the hubris of youthful male bravado. But mostly by Aegon, really.

Aemond watched Luke closely, his one lilac eye wide with anticipation, as if to say: give me a reason.

“To Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond, the Celtigar sisters, and my future good-sister, Princess Helaena. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth,” Valeana narrowed her eyes up at him. His words sounded sincere to those who could not see his face, that fox-like expression. “And as men and women, I hope we may yet be friends and allies,” Luke gestured to the two princes that sat in front of him. “To the health of my uncles, my sweet aunt and my old friends. And to Lady Valeana, I wish to say: Sȳz biarves (good luck).”

She felt Aemond move next to her. It was so subtle, that it would not be noticeable to anyone else that wasn’t directly beside him. Valeana reached for Aemond’s sleeve, silently imploring him to back down. With a slight tug, he finally relents and slowly sits back down, eye trained on Luke as he also descends into his seat.

“Issa daor pretium ziry (he is not worth it),” She whispered to him once he was sat.

“What did that bastard say?” Aegon whispered when he leaned into her space, his mouth was pinched and his gaze was fixed on the wood of the table.

Valeana hesitated before divulging that information. The table on the platform seemed unsure what to make of Luke’s little speech, particularly the last bit to those that didn’t understand Valyrian. She could spot Rhaenyra’s turned head, glaring at her son the way mother’s do, and Daemon biting his lip to contain his amusement.

Their own table was thick with unease and judgement. She could feel Clement’s eyes on her from above Helaena’s head, like some lurking gargoyle with amethyst stones for eyes.

“Good luck,” Valeana answered, then shook her head dismissively. “He is just being provocative… Because you were.”

Aegon rolled his eyes, “I can be more—”

“Please don’t.”

The sound of another chair being pushed against the flagstone alerted everyone once again to the long table. For a moment, she braced herself for a confrontation with her brother, since the sound came from his direction. So imagine Valeana’s surprise when she looked up and saw it was Helaena, of all people, holding a goblet and wearing a contented smile on her lovely face.

“I would like to toast to my betrothed, Jacaerys. He was always kind and patient with me as children, and did not shy away from my bugs,” Helaena spoke with an innocence about her that was both endearing and calming to watch. It was clear that she was the most beloved person in that room, and the most gentle and fragile. “So, I believe our marriage will not be so bad. It will be good, I think. Oh, and the eggs on the milkweed plant you gave me have hatched into two healthy caterpillars. I’ve named them Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.”

And with that, she sheepishly sat back down in her chair. There was a gentle applause and claps around the room, accompanied by smiles of adoration and appreciation that her simple little tribute had eased the tension berthed by the arrogant princes in the room.

“Well done, my girl,” Viserys said from his table, raising his glass to his youngest daughter.

Jacaerys smiled broadly, then leaned forward into the table, “Mayhaps those are the names we can give to our future children?”

Helaena paused to consider, and then shook her head decidedly. “No, I think not. They are from another life… a sadder one. Here, I would like them to be free.”

The first course was cleared from the table, and Aemond’s plate was removed to make room for a fresh one. He had nothing on it other than oyster shells on them anyway – still void of any pearls. The music seemed to pick up, something a little louder, and a little more merry in an attempt to liven up the room. Aemond was stewing in his seat, one hand poised on the back of Valeana’s chair, the other one tapping on the table as he watched the room like a patient hawk.

With all the tributes and toasts, the House of Valyria was already feeling the effects of wine and spirits. Faces flushed, conversations loud, laughter was heard. Even his dear mother seemed to be in a good mood, which admittedly made him feel… content. It wasn’t often that he saw Alicent genuinely happy, and even longer since he last heard her laugh.

Aemond wasn’t entirely convinced that peace had truly been found there that eve, but it was a start. Otto Hightower was still a piece on the board, and he doubted his grandsire would just simply roll over and give up the potential of having full power. Helaena may be his granddaughter, but he knew very well that she would not be a queen in practice, and that Jace wouldn’t be one to be manipulated or coerced by Green influence. No, for Otto, it wasn’t a win-win situation.

The servants were still clearing the table and bringing in the larger platters – roasted duck, lamb shanks, meat pies, and various vegetables that have been steamed and rubbed with herbs and sauces. A pile of snow crab legs were placed in front of Aegon, red and steaming, dripping with melted garlic butter. Insufferably, he turned to Aemond with a smug look.

Jacaerys raised from his seat, moving around the table until he got to Helaena’s chair, his hand extended for her to take. She seemed surprised for a moment, but immediately took it and allowed him to lead her onto the empty dance floor.

Aegon rolled his eyes so heavily, that they momentarily disappeared into the back of his head. He loathed the idea of Jace marrying his sister almost as much as he loathed the idea of him marrying Valeana. He was relieved, in a sense, but now he was given another, different misfortune. He worried as a brother too, knowing his sister’s nature and doubting that his nephew was equipped with handling it.

After that, more couples joined the dance floor. Shyla pulled Daeron up and dragged him to join in, though he didn’t seem to mind. He had a large stupid grin on his face. Then, in an interesting turn of events, Clement and Baela joined in, followed by – Oh, he nearly laughed when he saw it – Rhaena and Joffrey. Aegon’s mouth twitched when he witnessed Luke watch with clear annoyance at Joffrey (three and ten!) when he asked his betrothed to dance.

Aegon felt so utterly satisfied and gitty over this, that he decided he wished to sow displeasure amongst present company. He turned to his fair maid and scooped up her hand to pull her up without so much as a request.

“Come on, my darling,” He pulled Valeana’s hand to his mouth to give it a kiss before practically dragging her onto the dance floor. She was in the middle of putting food on her plate when she was whisked away, her eyes wide in surprise, the fork clattering on the plate when she was forced to let go.

Aemond twisted in his chair to glower at his brother, though he made no move to stop them. Instead, he tried to calm himself by focusing on her alone. The sway of her hips, how her vermillion dress swept around her elegantly; the curve of her back, framed by the lace of her well fitted bodice. The glimpse of her pale arms through her red veiled sleeves, just a hint of scandal in its reveal. The way her braids swung to and fro with every movement, eventually one landing over her shoulder, and the other hanging behind her back. He longed to kiss every inch of her skin, to commit every piece and corner of her body to memory so he would never forget her again. But most of all, he wanted to be the one to dance with her, to be able to publicly be seen with her, letting everyone know just who she truly belonged to.

But, no… That privilege belonged to his eldest brother.

At least for now.

“So,” Aegon drawled out as he and Valeana swayed to the music, keeping a fair distance away from the other dancers, particularly Clement who kept on sending heated glances their way. “You’re the one responsible for Helaena and Jacaerys. You’ve ruined my life, I hope you’re happy.”

“Immensely,” she answered with equal sarcasm.

He catches her glance at the two in question, a small little smile creeping on her face. Truly, Aegon did not enjoy the idea of Jace of all people marrying his sister— he thought of no one marrying his sister, frankly. For years he had simply been anticipating the impending nuptials that he and Helaena would have to share that the idea of her being a bride to anyone else never occurred to him. But at the look Valeana gave them, he couldn’t help but concede to her good judgement. Politically, it was sound. It merged both houses and took Aegon off the chessboard, which he always wanted. If anything, he should be thanking Valeana.

When she turned back to him, she raised a curious brow at his little smile, “What?”

Aegon gave a tiny shrug of his shoulder, “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

His smile grew a little before moving their bodies so they were blocked by the other dancers, away from prying eyes of the adults that watched them all. He leaned into her ear, “About how beautiful you’ll look when I peel that dress off you.”

Val’s eyes flashed and flickered around to make sure no one one heard that, “Aegon–”

He softly chuckled at her reaction, his fingers on her waist rubbed her side tenderly yet suggestively. Aegon pulled her in closer to his body, so his chin hovered over her shoulder, lips near her ear. “Tonight, do not fall asleep. I intend to spend another night with you under the stars.”

Aegon felt an immense satisfaction when he heard her breath hitch and her fingers curl around his shoulder. Valeana bit her lip when she lifted her chin to look up at him, her eyes fretful, yet bashful, as evidenced by the sheepish smile she was trying to withhold.

“I switched rooms,” she told him, and when Aegon merely stared back at her, unsure of what she meant, she elaborated. “With Floris.”

The realization dawned on him in blink, and soon he was smiling wolfishly. Humming in his elatedness, he dipped his dance partner in a flourish and pulled her back up. Aegon chuckled at the look on her face, then pulled her flush against as he dipped in close to her ear. “Well then, my life just got simultaneously more interesting and easier all in one go. And–” he pulled back a bit so he could look at her, “We do not have to do… anything you don’t want. Though, if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, you should know…” He trailed off, the corner of his lips tugging upward as he whispered in a lower tone. “I do not mind blood.”

“Wha–”

His violet eyes flickered downward, and she froze for a moment, eyes flashing in sheer embarrassment. Valeana sighed, her hand leaving his shoulder for a moment to rub her thumb on the space between her brows.

“How did you know?”

“You left me a little present.”

She grimaced and turned away, the tips of her ears pinked. Clearly amused, Aegon pulled at her chin so she could look at him again. “I told you, I don’t mind. Sometimes it adds a little extra lubricant–”

“I’m not bleeding anymore.”

“.... You’re not?”

“Are you disappointed?”

Aegon’s eyes flickered off to the ceiling to contemplate the answer to that question, “...no?”

She pinched his shoulder, making him hiss.

The main course dishes were beginning to pile on the tables. The King’s table had already begun their feasts, having been served first, and now the dancers were starting to return to their seats. All save for Jacaerys and Helaena, who remained dancing, creative and improvised and not at all traditional. That was possibly the most carefree Aemond has ever seen his sister, and as he loathed to admit it (like, very much loathed), it made him quite happy to see Jacaerys bring out that side of her.

“Ooh, hells,” Viserys suddenly said from his table, one hand grabbing his cane, and the other bracing the armrest as he pushed himself from his seat. “All those toasts are catching up with me. Excuse me for a moment, as nature calls.”

“Allow me to accompany you, your Grace,” Bartimos stood up as well, “I have the same ailment.”

Everyone stood up as the King left the table, followed by Bartimos at his side. Once the two had left the room, everyone resumed their seats or their dancing. Chatter continued as more servants poured in one at a time to bring platters of the main meal. Two came in holding a large one, heading towards the end of the longer table to slide it in between Aemond and Lucerys before walking away.

It was a full roasted pig, still sizzling as it sat there on the platter, waiting to be sliced and eaten.

Valeana settled in her seat beside Aemond, who was facing away from the table, his leg casually crossed, his eye trained on his sister and Jacaerys dancing. Aegon sat down after he tucked Valeana’s seat in, the feet of his chair scratching softly against the flagstones. The sound of utensils being used as people picked at the platters became background noise, ones that did nothing to drown out the chuckle that Aemond heard from across the table.

Slowly he turned around, his one eye peeking over at Luke over the bridge of his nose. His nephew was laughing; eyes squinting in a mischievous glint as he stared at Aemond, and then back at the roasted pig… And then onto Valeana, who was unaware of it all.

Suddenly the table jostled, the bang of Aemond’s fist on the table immediately halted everyone’s chatter and movement, bringing their collective attention to his side of the table.

Fisting his cup, Aemond ascended from his seat and extended his arm, his eye trained on his nephew in front of him, “Final tribute.”

The music stopped, Jace and Helaena ceased dancing. Everyone turned to him, surprised and apprehensive over Aemond’s voice. He was the stoic prince, more keen on observing than in conversing, least of all with most of the people present. The sudden presence of his voice felt like a single arrow leading the charge of a barrage of them that would pelt everyone on the battlefield.

“To the health of my nephews: Jace,” he looked over at the prince in question on the dance floor. The brunette looked tense and unsure, sharing a look with Helaena and then at his brothers at the table.

“Luke…” When Aemond’s eye returned to the one in question, the muscles in his face hardened like steel. All his intentions were poured into his one lilac eye, wide and challenging. “And Joffrey…Each of them handsome, wise…”

The tension grew as he trailed off; everyone was holding their breaths. Every second felt like an hour long as he simply pursed his lips and kept his blazing eye trained on Lucerys.

Finally, he hummed and subtly nodded to himself, “...Strong.”

“Aemond–” Valeana’s plea tried to reach for him, but he was too far gone. He hadn’t even registered that she had spoken his name.

“Come–” He turned to the crowd, his goblet brandishing like a sword, but his ironic smirk was sharper and more dangerous. “Let us drain our cups to these three… Strong boys.”

Aegon, ever the reveller in chaos, raised his cup high in the air. Valeana shot him a warning look, but he didn’t seem to notice or really care either. This was probably the first time the two brothers had been on the same page since she had arrived in King’s Landing. The closest thing she’d ever see to brotherly support for each other.

“I dare you to say that again,” Luke challenged, standing up from his seat, Rhaena was quick to grab his sleeve, but he was undeterred by the attempt. Actually, he pulled away from her and started to move around the end of the table.

“Why?” Aemond moved as well, goblet still in his hand, but his eye still held unwavering challenge. “‘It was only a compliment,” As he said this, the two moved towards each other like two rival wolves trying to assert dominance. “Do you not think yourself Strong?”

That is when all hell broke loose. A string of reactions all overlapping each other, it was difficult to see everything happen all at once and know who reacted and when. But what was certain was that Luke punched Aemond across his left cheek, which resulted in a reaction in both Aegon and Joffrey, having been nearest to their brothers. Joffrey strode over to them, hellbent on entering the fray, but Aegon grabbed hold of the back of his neck and pinned him against the table before he could reach Aemond.

Aemond took the punch as if it was a swat of a kitten. Taller and more muscular than his nephew, all it took was one rough shove in the shoulder, and Lucerys was down on the floor. Watching the dark-haired prince scramble there to get to him delighted Aemond like nothing else. He had a smug sense of satisfaction of reducing Luke to a pathetic pile on the floor; the boy who had left him half blind with no consequence. As he placed the goblet back on the table, Aemond turned away from him and darkly chuckled, his smile dimpling his cheeks as he shared that cruel amused glint with Aegon.

Valeana is standing now, having successfully pried Aegon off of Joffrey with the help of Rhaena just as the guards started to interfere. Jacaerys had also attempted to get involved, but Rhaenyra and Alicent were there in an instant, both collecting their sons like a shepherd dog collecting their herd.

Alicent gripped on Aemond’s shoulder as she yanked him off to the side, “Why would you say such things in front of all these people?”

Aemond turned to his mother, casual and uninspired by her question, “I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, mother.” His light tone dripped with sarcasm like tar. He hummed, blinked and turned away from her to look towards his nephews that continued to struggle against the restraint of the knights. “Though it seems my nephews are not quite proud of theirs,” he said this while yanking his hand from his mother’s grip, and stalking towards the Velaryons.

At that moment, Jacaerys frees himself from the knight’s hold and is bounding towards Aemond with steely determination. But another strode forth, his long legs cutting between the battling princes like a dragon cuts through wind.

“Wait, wait,” Daemon held up a finger, effectively stopping Jace from moving another inch. Daemon stepped in front of his step sons, pushing them back into the fringes of the room next to their mother with their tails tucked between their legs. Then Daemon turns around and faces his nephew, a sigh filtering through his open mouth and his hands clasped in front of himself.

Aemond and Daemon just stared at each other; an immovable object and unstoppable force. Everyone was holding their breath, creating a thick silence throughout the room. The tension was so thick, no one could move, but it was clear in the slight twitches of Aemond and Daemon’s fingers that they desperately wanted to. It was a battle of wills at this point; who was going to take the first step to the challenge, who was going to blink, who was going to walk away…

“Enough.”

A phantom in vermillion cut in between the two black princes. Valeana first looked at Daemon, her viperous eyes wiping the smirk off his face and causing the muscles in his cheeks and forehead to slack. Then she turned to Aemond, and her brows turned upward, looking up at him with disappointment and something that he could not place…

Something that was so disarming that his eye widened with panic.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE SNEAK PEAK “Where are you taking me?” He asked with a sly grin, already knowing the answer. She turned to him with that innocent little smile of hers. “Nowhere special,” The slight curve of her lips turned into a grin as she pulled him into an alcove before pulling the drapes that framed it tightly closed .

Notes: I never want to write that damn dinner scene again, lol. For those of you that might be ??? on why Valeana is upset, don't worry, next chapter we get into it.

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel, @t0biasparabatai

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

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taradactyls · 17 days ago

Text

Progress of Janeuary Prompts and Chapter 43 of Trying to Tread Water

*Edit*

24/01/25 Update

No real change from last week. I've been busy with the twins turning 3 (!!) and we currently all have a cold.

The Day 20 Janeuary prompt is probably closest to being posted, but when I finish it is heavily dependant on how fuzzy my head feels. Btw, I don't think any of the prompts will be done on the right day but they're all still going to be posted, regardless. I laugh in the face of due dates.

18/01/25 Update

Chapter 43 of T3W: I'm about 5k words in and it's going well. I might have to do some heavy rearranging of the second section depending on how the last goes but I don't think anything has to be scrapped so that word count should only be increasing.

Janeuary: Very behind but still working away (before anyone comes for me: I'm doing this during the times I can't work on T3W because I'm too tired or there's too many distractions and I have to keep pausing, etc. The proper fic requires significantly more brain power and care than quick one-shots).

Also:

I can only see one of these, so unless you sent me a Day 20 prompt about Kitty/Colonel Fitzwilliam (an update on that below) please resend your ask! I think the inbox ate some.

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Janeuary 2025 Prompts done so far:

Day 8: Cravat 'Elizabeth Overestimates her Ability to Tie a Cravat' - Rated G, 3k words, Elizabeth/Darcy, sweet, first kiss, post-canon.

Over the period of their engagement, Elizabeth and Mr Darcy take many long walks. During an unseasonably warm late October day, Mr Darcy loosens his cravat and removes his jacket. Elizabeth finds this a very educational experience. But when it comes time to put them back on, she cannot for the life of her figure out how to knot the cravat properly after insisting she do the honours.

“My dearest, and loveliest, Elizabeth,” he gently began. “You have no idea how to knot a cravat, do you?”

Also Day 8: Cravat 'Inappropriate Use of a Cravat'- Explicit, 6k words, Elizabeth/Darcy, author's first smut, the prompt was from the wildest ask I have ever received but I made it seem normal, smut, established relationship, post-canon, the cravat is part of the smut.

After an absence of some weeks, Mr Darcy and Elizabeth are very eager to be alone together and don’t even make it to the bedroom. As it’s been a while, Mr Darcy doesn’t think he’ll hold out very long if Elizabeth keeps lavishing attention down there – so she ties his cravat around the base of his shaft, to prevent an early end to their enjoyment.

Her surprised gasp was silenced by his lips, her own eagerly parting as she tangled her hands into his hair to keep his face pressed to hers. Pushing Mr Darcy against the wall – door – something, she melted against him, his hands digging into her waist, revelling in the taste and feel of her. “I missed you,” she said again, drawing back to kiss a line down his throat, “so much.”

Day 11: Card Playing Artwork- Which is the banner of...

'A Losing Hand' - Rated G, 2.9k words, Elizabeth/Darcy, canon compliant, falling in love and FIGHTING it, banter, awkward flirting, unrequited crush.

Mr Darcy is falling in love with Elizabeth Bennet, and he is not best pleased about it. His pov of that enlightening card game in Chapter 8 of Pride and Prejudice when they discuss accomplished women.

Darcy could only look at her – the light challenge in her gaze, the slight smile that accompanied it. He could debate with her all day.

Day 16: Gossip 'Dear Lady Catherine' - Rated G, 4.2k words, Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley, Canon divergence, Lady Catherine is in peak form, and facing someone who's allowed to argue back, Character development, Speedrunning Darcy's realisations, Self-reflection

Following the Netherfield Ball, Mr Collins happily gossips in a letter to Lady Catherine that her that her nephew may be on the verge of matrimony… to Miss Bingley. He overheard his cousins talking of the lady’s attentions and quite misconstrued everything. Lady Catherine, as incensed as she could ever be, goes to confront her nephew in London… and arrives in the middle of the ‘Why You Should Not Marry Jane Bennet’ intervention.

Yelling ensues. And maybe more than one instance of self-reflection.

In which Mr Collins has the sacred duty of sharing gossip he wasn’t supposed to know; Lady Catherine is of infinite use, which ought to make her happy, for she loves to be of use; Miss Bingley learns what all her attempts to secure Mr Darcy’s affections have amounted to; and Mr Darcy himself is full of pride and confronted with his hypocrisy.

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Janeuary Prompts in progress/ideas:

Day 13: Christian Name - A few people wondered what Darcy was really thinking in Chapter 42 of T3W when he was talking about how he imaged Elizabeth calling him Fitzwilliam:

“How did you imagine it?” she enquired with a frown. Mr Darcy blushed a deep crimson. “Mostly, mere casual use.”

And I thought that made a great prompt for trying my hand at some more smut.

Day 20: Dearest - An anon sent a prompt for some Kitty/Colonel Fitzwilliam Fluff, and since I've never considered them before it was a fun exercise to think about how that would work! I started a draft of it as I worked out some ideas so this will definitely be happening.

Day 27: Cousins - Toying with the idea of doing a sweet glimpse of 5 or so years into the future, featuring little Bingleys and Darcys. Not sure if that's something anyone's interested in though.

Day 29: Carriage - A missing scene from Pride and Prejudice featuring Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam

Day 30: Garden - Another Pride and Prejudice missing scene with Darcy's pov of something Elizabeth mentions in passing.

#turns out when I'm not worrying about story and character arcs and keeping consistent tone and narrative purpose etc etc #I write like a mad thing #I've written over 22k words (not including what's been deleted) in under two weeks #I turn off my brain and just let the movie in my head run as I desperately try to type fast enough to keep up #have I sometimes been too inspired and forgotten to sleep at a reasonable time?#MAYBE #but it's great to be doing little things that I don't have to think too deeply about and replenish my creativity #fanfiction #ao3

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cherrycola27 · 2 years ago

Text

Star Spangled Seresin

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Political situations. Unrequited love, one night stand, military and political inaccuracies. Smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Series Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 1: (I was) Enchanted to Meet You:

After you had left the apartment, Jaycee decided to take some time to herself and get some writing done for work. She was halfway through her article when her phone chimed. It was a text from Jake.

She took a deep breath. She shouldn't have given Jake her phone number. Jaycee didn't do relationships. Not after what happened. But Jake was sweet and made her cum three times and then fixed her breakfast the next day. So, in a moment of weakness, she gave him her number.

She checked his text. It was a message checking to make sure she had made it home okay. After confirming, she was fine, he asked her about her day.

Feeling bold, she snapped a picture of herself with a messy bun, glasses, leggings, and her oversized Georgetown sweatshirt with her laptop. Jake chuckled when he received the image before texting her back a selfie of him in a US Navy tank at the gym.

Jaycee blushed before typing back, "I figured you'd be the kind of guy who works out shirtless 😉." Jake quickly replied, "Normally, I do, but my back had a run-in with some nails last night 😏."

Jaycee's face turned red. And before she could fire off a response, Jake texted her again, "When can I see you again?"

Jaycee sighed. She wasn't a second date or first date, whichever this was kind of girl, but Jake did seem sincere, a nice meal, and some good sex did sound appealing. Of course, she'd have to keep it a secret from you, but that shouldn't be too hard. So, before she could talk herself out of it, she texted him back that she was free on Monday.

Moments later, a smiling selfie of Jake graced her screen with the message, "Fantasic. Meet me at Marcel's at 7:30. The reservation will be under Seresin, party of two."

Jaycee collapsed against the throw pillows of the couch. Was she really about to do this?

The rest of the afternoon was spent texting with Jake. She learned all kinds of things about him, from where he grew up, to his time in the Naval Academy, to his career in the Navy, and some about his family. Jaycee shared more details about herself than she had in a long time. She was about to order some takeout and text you to see what you wanted when she got a message saying you'd be out late and wouldn't be home until after midnight. Something with the campaign.

Jaycee rolled her eyes at how dedicated you were to your job before placing her order.

She'd just settled down to enjoy her orange chicken when a FaceTime from Jake lit up her phone.

"Um, hi?" She said as she answered it. "Hey." Jake said smoothly. "Sorry, I probably should have texted to see if you were busy, but I really wanted to see you again." Jake said.

"It's fine. I just got some takeout and was about to watch some true crime." She told him. "Oh, true crime? Are you more unsolved mysteries or serial killers?" Jake asks. "Unsolved mysteries for sure. And I love a good conspiracy." Jaycee replies as she grabs her chopsticks.

"Conspiracy theories are fun. Once Bradley and I get elected, I can't wait to learn all the secrets they keep locked in the Library of Congress. After the inauguration, I'm heading straight for the JFK file." Jake says without missing a beat. "Why JFK? Is it because he was assassinated in Texas and you're from there, or is it because he was a Navy man, too?" She asks him with a mouthful of noodles.

"Both." Jake confirms

Jaycee snorts out a laugh. "You know that secret section of the Library or Congress is a myth, right?" She tells him. "Guess we'll just have to wait and see. Maybe you and I can look for it together after the election." Jake tells her with a bright smile.

"Yeah, maybe," Jaycee shifts uncomfortably.

"So, other than run for office and fly planes, what do you do for fun?" She asks, changing the subject.

"I like to hike. If I am back home, I love riding horses on my family ranch. A pickup game of football or basketball is fun every now and then. I'm a great bowler, but even better at darts and pool, and I'm a sucker for a good musical or theater performance. My sisters were in drama and dance in school, so I always went to their shows and then started seeing a few shows on my own." Jake tells her.

"Oh, so you have culture?" Jaycee teases him. "What's your favorite show?" She asks him. "Hamilton, obviously." Jaycee can't help but laugh. "Basic." She teases him. "But it could be worse. I figured you would have said something like Oklahoma." She says.

"No self-respecting Texan would ever say their favorite show is Oklahoma." Jake says in a serious tone.

"So what about you, other than grilling potential vice presidents, what do you do for fun?" Jake asks her.

"Um, I like hiking too, I've never rode a horse, I like yoga, and reading, and mini-golf, and kickboxing. And I, too, enjoy the theater."

"So, what's your favorite show then?" Jake asks her. She can tell he's waiting to tease her.

"Wicked." She admits sheepishly. "Oh, and I'm the basic one." Jake rolls his eyes dramatically. "Hey it's a great story about fighting for what you think is right and denying social norms!" Jaycee defends herself.

"If you say so. I've never seen it." Jake shrugs. "What!" Jaycee shrieks. "You said you have sisters. How have you never seen it?!" She asks him. "I tried once. The flying monkeys creeped me out." He admits.

"Okay, okay. I get that." She tells him. "So, I had a really good time with you last night." Jake tells her.

"So did I. Three really good times." Jaycee admits. "I was talking about at the bar. Like, don't get me wrong, the other stuff was great too, but I enjoyed getting to know you." He tells her.

Before Jaycee can answer, she hears keys in the door, and your voice calling out to her. "Jaycee, I'm home!"

"Oh, shit, Jake, I've gotta go!" Jaycee says before quickly ending the call.

"Hey! I thought you said you wouldn't be back until after midnight?" Jaycee asks you. "Yeah, Bradley and I finished up early. Who was that on the phone?" You ask her.

"Um, no one." Jaycee says quickly. "Wait—was that Mr. Tongue Tricks? You gave him your number? Where you guys having phone sex?" You ask her.

"No, no, and ew, no." Jaycee says as she cleans up her mess in the living room. "Okay, whatever you say." You sing-song back to her.

"Hey, do have plans Monday night? Candice and Talia are going to be in town and want to get drinks." You tell her.

"Actually, I do have dinner plans. Sorry." Jaycee tells you. "No worries." You respond before heading to your room.

All of Jaycee's Sunday is spent texting Jake. The two of them talk about everything under the sun. He makes her feel good— happy even, something she haven't felt from a relationship in quite a long time. But then—

Jake had brought up the topic of dumb things he did as a teen and told her about the scar on his ass from a bull. Jaycce laughed at him. Then, he texted, saying how he loved how she had turned her surgical scar into something beautiful. She asked him what he meant. And then he replied, "The one on your side, that's the quill tattoo. Did you have your appendix or something removed?"

Her heart sank, and she dropped your phone. The scar he was talking about wasn't from surgery. It was from the worst moment of her life. She quickly got up and went to the mirror in her room. Jaycce lifted her shirt and traced the jagged lines that ran across her right side.

You had convinced her to get the markings tattooed as a way to reclaim them, but even though she had tried to make them beautiful, they still carried ugly memories.

Flashes of that night flooded her brain, the yelling, the glass, the blood —so much blood. She shook the thoughts from her mind.

Jaycee quickly changed the subject, but suddenly, her heart wasn't in it anymore. Who was she kidding? She couldn't date Jake, she had too much baggage for a guy like him.

On Monday, she barely texted him. And that evening, just as you were able to leave to meet up with your friends, she came out of her room dressed to go out. "Hey, wait up!" She called to you. "You're coming? I thought you had plans?" You ask her skeptically.

"They got canceled. Let's go get drinks!" Jaycee cheered as the two of you walked out the door.

At 7:10, Jaycee, you, and your college friends got a table at the bar right across from Marcel's

At 7:15, she watched Jake enter with a bundle of flowers.

At 7:25, he texted her that he was there.

At 7:30, he asked if she was on her way, and if she was running late, that was fine.

At 7:40, he tried calling her, and she immediately sent it to voicemail.

At 7:45, she stopped checking her texts.

At 8 p.m., she watched a deflated Jake Seresin leave the restaurant. Jaycee finished her drink and excused herself to the restroom.

Once she was alone, she turned off her phone and allowed a single tear to slip down her cheek.

"This is for the best." She told herself in the mirror." But she knew she was lying to herself.

Okay! Here we go yall! Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @princess76179 @bradshawseresinbabe @sunlightmurdock @lewmagoo @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @mj-l4 @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @dakotakazansky @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @gretagerwigsmuse @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis @bradshawsbaby

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msnanu · 2 years ago

Text

Life Twist 09 | JJK

⏤ banner by the talented and sweet: @archivedkookie ❣

⏤summary ❧ After an enormous loss in your life and breaking a long relationship with your now ex boyfriend, you decided you needed a life twist. So you move into a new country to try restart your life and seek for your happiness. What you weren’t expecting was someone like Jungkook entering into your life as soon as you got to Seoul.

⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ❧ jungkook x female reader

⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 ❧ fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, 4 years age gap (reader is JK’s noona)

⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ❧ mature language

⏤𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ❧ 11.7K+

⏤ author’s note❧ New chapter, guys 😍 this is one of my favorites and I have to say - enjoy while the fluffiness and happiness lasts - not gonna spoil anything for the future, we'll have to wait to see what comes next for these two cuties. As always enjoy this new chapter and all of your comments/thoughts are more than welcome 🤗 P.S: Jeon Jungkook gave me a heart attack after the release of 'Seven' 🤸🏼

'Would you be my girlfriend?'

Did your ears deceive you? Is it possible that you’re already asleep and you’re in the middle of a dream?

'Could you repeat that one more time, please?'

He chuckles and nods complying to your request.

'Would you be my girlfriend, noona?'

You heard well. He really asked you to be his girlfriend. Your smile grew from ear to ear, and you didn't even have to think your answer for a second even though, a giggle is all that comes out of your lips while you feel your cheeks starting to blush like crazy.

‘I really hope that cute giggle means yes, baby’

'Yes, of course JK!' you respond happily hugging him tightly.

'Really? Fuck yes, baby.' He hugs you back while peppering your face with kisses.

You realize you are all sweaty and stinky from the previous sinful activities and the sheets are a mess too.

'As much as I love hugging you, I think I should help you changing the sheets'

'Don't worry baby, I'll do it. You can go ahead and start the shower meanwhile'

'Are you sure? I don't mind helping, Kook'

'Yes, my beautiful girlfriend, I'm sure. I'll be there as soon as I'm done so I can help you get cleaned up' he says while winking at you and showing a little smirk.

You feel your cheeks blushing hearing him calling you 'girlfriend'. It sounds surreal but you love the sound of it.

You kiss him on the lips briefly, then trail three kisses down his neck, to his shoulder. 'K, I'll be going first then' you say, sliding out of bed. At the door to his en suite bathroom, you break into a little smile and say 'Don't take long, boyfie'

'I won't, gorgeous' Jungkook drops his head back to the pillow with a smile plastered on his face. This is a dream - he thinks to himself.

Over the time you've known Jungkook, you've developed a mental gallery — sort of like a list you could say, because that’s the way your brain works — of things you want to do with him. To him, actually. And over the course of the night, you made a real dent in that list. Waiting for the water to heat on the shower, you spend those minutes running over those items.

You relive a particularly excellent moment from your explosive first time with Jungkook, which reminds you of this thing he did, and a cry — did that really come out of your mouth? — and then that look on his face when you...Ugh you really have to stop your dirty memories.

You shake your head, then your whole body, and then open the shower glass door stepping into it. Tilting your head away, you hold a loofah in the shower flow and pour a little bodywash over it. As you start to scrub, you notice a little reddish patch below your right breast, and you chuckle because you know immediately that it was from his mouth working on your skin when he found your third tattoo. Your thighs clench together involuntarily, and you immediately try to refocus on the loofah.

You're facing the flow of water, rinsing the lather off your arms, when you hear the glass door of the shower opening. You smirk to yourself before turning around to find giant, naked, rock-hard Jungkook behind you.

'I thought you fell asleep for a moment'

'And missing out having a shower with my beautiful girlfriend? No way'

Without saying another word, Jungkook joins you and cranes his neck to kiss where the water hits your collarbone. You can only move your hand through his hair and feel around his forearm, Jungkook's lips joining the spattering flow of water along your shoulder and up to your neck before he finds your lips again. The free hand that isn't holding your face finds its way down your stomach, finally catching you free and open where his hand slides against you in staid pattern before he kisses down to your shoulder again.

'Everything about you is amazing, you know that?' Jungkook pulls his palm up to your clit, firm, while his fingers spread and find you waiting.

You give him a sarcastic nod trying to hold back a moan, then say, 'You're such a menace Jeon Jungkook' reaching for his arm and sliding past him, shifting him under the shower head 'Get warm, boyfie. I don't want you to get sick'

He feels goosebumps every time he hears the word 'boyfie' coming from your beautiful lips. He obliges, but never takes his eyes off you.

You can’t help but glance downward, to his cock and for a moment you feel like a perv.

It’s a fairly small shower so you barely move before that hard heat is pressing against your abdomen, as you go up on your tippy toes to kiss him. This time, the kiss is immediately heavy — heat and tongue and moans, wet hands slipping all over wet skin. Jungkook’s hands run up and down your back, then flatten over your hips, over the curve of your ass, squeezing and urging you closer to him.

But you keep some space between you two, because you have plans for him. You slide a finger down his chest, then all your fingers over his magnificent abs, down that trail to his pelvis — the one that practically taunts you when he’s shirtless — until you find once again his hard shaft. A shudder runs through his midsection, seeming to transform into a groan in his throat, as you wrap your hand around him. You catch his bottom lip between your teeth, gently, and then break the kiss. When you look at him, his eyes are dark and intent, lips slightly parted - a look you think you may never entirely get used to, may always be powerless against; a look you know you wear as well.

And then you bend, your lips following the trail your fingers made, and Jungkook inhales sharply and hisses, 'Y/N' as he realizes what you're doing.

'Shhhhh' you whisper, planting a kiss below his navel, getting situated on your knees. You slip your hand over his tip, down the shaft, wrap it around the base. JK’s breathing is shaky; without looking, you can tell his jaw is clenched. His hands in your hair are jittery too, and you still for a moment to let him settle.

When he does, you lick a path away from your hand. Jungkook lets out a harsh breath, quickly followed by a 'Fuck. I could never get enough of you' when your lips close around the head. And just like that, he is in your mouth. Your lips and your tongue are sliding over the ridges and planes and curves of his truly remarkable cock. You take your time, once again getting to know the feeling of him, tasting him, testing for his reactions, and you're rewarded with rasping strings of sounds and half-words. 'Ahhhhh…s-shit. Oh, my g-... b-baby'

And then his hands are on your shoulders, gently pressing you away from him, pulling his hips back a bit. You release him and look up. He’s flushed and you can see his pulse pounding in his neck. “I want to...” he trails off, breathlessly, and then he lifts you by the arms and you get the message. Jungkook kisses you savagely, desperately, and you wonder for the millionth time in the last hours why the hell and how on Earth you avoided doing this for so long.

And then all thoughts cease, because Jungkook’s hand is between your thighs, easing them apart. Without any sort of teasing, he simply slides a finger into you. And then out. And this time another finger joins on the way in, and his thumb presses firmly against your clit.

'Mmh, so so wet, always so ready for me baby' says your boyfriend between kisses with his raspy voice.

A moan comes from somewhere, probably from you - you think vaguely, you are already out of it - as Jungkook works his thumb in a circle, never breaking contact, never letting up on the pressure, and after a minute your lips fall away from his. He immediately bends to kiss your breasts, licking all around your nipple before pulling it into his mouth, then following with the other.

'Fuck. These tits drive me nuts. You're so fucking beautiful' he says while he keeps licking your already perked nipples.

You can feel yourself beginning a crescendo, and your hand goes to his wrist against your pelvis and you still it. With your other hand, you lift his chin back to your level. Confusion flickers in his eyes, and then slowly but never taking your eyes of his, you turn around. You place one palm against the cool tile wall, and the other guides his hand around your hip.

You look at him over your shoulder, and you smile when you notice how his gaze automatically fell to your ass while he bites his lip piercing and then you say 'Just ticking a few more boxes on the list of things I’ve wanted to do with you since...well, let’s just call it a long time and leave it at that'

Jungkook shakes his head slightly, his look of wonder slowly replaced by a little smirk. You're so hot, so freaking dirty and he's so down for it to the point where he could fuck you day in and day out. He leans in and bites your earlobe before whispering 'I didn’t keep a list, but if I did...all of this night? Right at the top. You and those goddamn dresses of yours…you don't have any idea how many times I imagined myself fucking your brains out'

And with that, his cock is pressing against your backside, and you stop breathing for a second. You let go of his hand and reach behind you to guide the hard length of him between your thighs, angling your hips back and up until his tip brushes against your entrance, and then slides in.

You both let out a long breath when he is fully inside, and a rush goes through your whole body at the feeling of him filling you from this angle. He moves gently within you. His hands work over your hips, paying special attention to your ass, palms sliding up the sides of your torso, down your arms, covering your hands against the tile, interlacing your fingers. Then, as he thrusts into you slowly, he trails his right hand back down your torso, over your abdomen and down until his fingers find that tiny, inflamed mound.

With just the slightest pressure, your knees buckle, and you let out a low cry. Jungkook’s left hand clenches around yours against the wall, and then he begins thrusting with more force. Longer strokes, picking up speed. And now you can feel him hit that elusive spot inside you, and you rock your hips back into him so that they find it together again and again. Jungkook’s finger continues to work a rhythm on your clit, matching the speed of his thrusts, and when you close your eyes, all you can feel is him, all around you, inside and out.

And all you hear is a rushing sound— the blood behind your ears or the flow of water or maybe it’s your heaving breaths, but probably all three — and then nothing at all. You're climbing, climbing, like a rollercoaster car approaching the peak, until all at once you're flying over the edge - you've lost count of how many times you have felt this way tonight - and now your only thought is his name, which you cry, over and over and over.

Jungkook follows seconds after, hips bucking against yours, a now-familiar groan ripping from his throat, reverberating against your neck, where his mouth comes to rest. You can feel his heartbeat against your back. You hold onto each other that way until your breathing evens out. JK plants a few soft kisses on your shoulder then steps back and you turn into him, once more savoring the feeling of his heat against you.

He turns you both, as one, so that you're under the flow of water and don't get cold, then he grabs a bar of soap and hands you the loofah with a shy little smile while you both share a chuckle. You both finally manage to bathe somehow in the tiny shower.

He's out first not before giving you a little peck on your lips and handing you a towel to dry off and then one of his oversize shirts to sleep in. After a few minutes when you finally walk back into his bedroom, he's already laying on his bed with the fresh new sheets and he sighs, 'First item on the list for our new place: bigger shower'

You stop your tracks to his bed and look him full in the face; you can see that he didn’t really intend to say that, not exactly. There’s a small, nervous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and he coughs out a tiny laugh, then stammers, 'I--I should probably ask you out on an actual date first as boyfriend-girlfriend now. Before talking about moving in together? I’m sorry; somehow, I keep finding new ways to screw this up. Just can’t seem to get it right' he ends while rubbing his temples.

If it was someone else, you would probably run like a coward feeling that what he said it's too much pressure for something that it's so new and it's just getting started. But somehow you don't feel scared anymore. Not after the amazing last weeks with him and specially not after this unreal past night.

You study him for a minute finding him cute being all nervous and then say, 'I don’t know. Doesn’t sound so wrong to me for the future'.

His eyes dart to yours glimmering and you continue, slowly, 'I mean, are you thinking like a loft, or like a house-house? Because I think something downtown would probably make the most sense for now, but someday down the road, I could see us in a real house with a little garden for Bamie to enjoy and, ooh, maybe a home theater would be cool...'

Jungkook’s face goes full sunrise and fireworks and double-rainbow, and he closes the distance between both, pulling you in for a big smacking kiss. 'I thought I was going to scare you away, you're so fucking amazing'

You shake your head. 'I'm all in for us if you are' you beam back at him, wrapping your arms behind his neck while he nods smiling enchanted with you, thinking how the hell he got this lucky.

Then you put on a serious face again, 'Okay, back to this shower thing, though: one of those stone walk-in porno showers with like 86 showerheads at every possible angle? Or just like a really awesome double soaker tub?'

'Yes. Both of those' He peppers you with kisses. 'Anything. Whatever it is that you want'

'Oh. Well, I already have that' you smile while looking at him straight to his doe sweet eyes that look at you with so much love.

It’s a short list. Everything you could ever want, right here in this five feet-ten inches package that's laying on bed with you. House and giant shower optional.

‘I think I really like her’

You were taking a sip of your gin tonic when you choke after hearing your best friend’s words. Something you weren’t expecting to hear after you asked how’s it going with Irene, the waitress from the cat café that he started to hook up a while ago.

‘You do?’ you didn’t mean to sound so surprised but what you’re hearing is something that you didn’t expect at all coming from your best friend’s mouth.

Jackson had invited you all to his house, this time no special occasion just hanging out in a calm environment without any loud music and rooms stacked of drunk people. You were pouring yourself a drink along with Chris away enough for the guys not to hear your conversation. JK hasn’t showed up yet, he was swamped in work and said he was coming as soon as he finished some designs that he must present tomorrow to his bosses.

‘I think I do’ he says and nudges your shoulder a little bit with his ‘Hey – don’t act that surprised, I’m perfectly capable of having feelings for someone else than my dick’ says Chris chuckling at your surprise face.

‘Of course, you do. I know that!’ you smile sweetly at your best friend while grabbing his hand and squeezing it a little bit. ‘It’s just… It’s been a long time since I heard you saying that you like someone’

‘Yeah…I know’ he says while pausing for a few seconds and sighs ‘Ugh…I didn’t even remember how the hell it was to feel this way about someone, I even get nervous when I’m around her you know?’

‘I get you. But it’s a good kind of nervous tho’ you say giving your best friend a comforting smile. ‘So, do we know how she feels about you?’

‘To be honest we haven’t really talked about that in particular, we have been hooking up nonstop since we met but we also hang out a lot during the week and there’s days where we just get together to grab dinner and talk about how our day went so I’m guessing she might be in the same place as me but she also has been in a pretty similar situation as me, where her asshole ex cheated on her and since then she has been in non-serious relationships’

‘Wow… did you talked with her about your ex?’

Your best friend nods at you and your eyes widen ‘That’s definitely new!’

‘Yeah, I know I’m fucking whipped. You were the only person that knew about my heartless ex. But I swear it’s just so easy to talk to Irene, I feel…safe. Just like when I talk to you’ he says, and you look at him with so much awe.

But then your best friend opens his potty mouth again and ruins the moment saying ‘The only difference is that I get to bang her’ Chris laughs hysterically at your sudden change of features after his last words, you went from giving him the sweetest gaze to glare at him and put a disgust face.

‘You’re disgusting’ smacking his arm while his laugh continues.

To be honest, you haven’t seen him this whipped over a girl in a long time. And you haven’t seen him this happy either. Not that he didn’t look happy before, not at all. But there’s something different of your best friend that makes you realize he’s in a better place now and this girl seems to be taking a huge part of it. It warms your heart because he definitely deserves all the happiness in the world, and you just hope this time he doesn’t get his heart broken like last time.

‘I think you should talk with her about your feelings, from what you’re telling me it sounds like she might be in the same place as you. Maybe she needs some reassurance. Take her on a nice romantic date and see how her reaction is, you’ll know what to do from there’

‘Yeah, I think you’re right. I’ll do that, I’ll take her on a romantic date and see how it goes’

You nod at your friend and engulf him in a tight hug that he quickly reciprocates.

‘You know, I’m happy for you’ you say while keeping your head in his chest.

‘And I’m happy for you too, babe’ he says giving you a little kiss on the top of your head. ‘Now enough of me, how’s it going with the golden maknae?’

‘It’s been amazing so far, he’s amazing. He’s so attentive and so sweet. 2 months in together and I don’t have anything to complain, so that’s good’ you say while chuckling.

Then you get a little bit more serious and say ‘Though, to be honest, he gets so fucking jealous that sometimes I want to punch him a little bit’

‘Jealous from who?’ asks your best friend almost not believing what he’s hearing.

Chris knows that you’re respectful of your partners, you don’t give reasons to be jealous. And he also knows that all the people that you know in Seoul is right here in this house – which are all JK’s friends - plus some people of work that you barely see because you work practically remotely full time. So, who the fuck could JK be jealous of?

‘Of every guy that looks towards my way pretty much’ you say while snickering along with your best friend ‘But there’s one guy that he’s a little bit more serious about and I don’t know why. You know Ethan, right? The guy from the gym’

‘Ethan? The tall blonde guy?’

You nod while taking another sip of your drink.

‘I think I know why he gets serious with Ethan’ says Chris while sighing ‘He’s one of the guys that Lina was screwing while she was with JK too’

That’s definitely news for you. You didn’t know about that. How is it that Lina’s name keeps coming up? It’s tiring to this point. You don’t talk to a lot of people at the gym and of all the people that could talk to you, it had to be the guy that Lina fucked while she was dating your boyfriend? Well… from what your friends have told you, she basically fucked everything that was moving so there’s probably a lot more guys at the gym that also slept with her. Not much of a coincidence.

‘Huh? I don’t understand, he never told me this’

‘Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk about it. But JK knows it that’s for sure. To be fair, Ethan never knew that Lina was seeing Jungkook. Jackson one time talked to him at the gym and asked him if he knew that Lina was dating one of his friends and Ethan looked surprised as fuck and had swear that he didn’t knew, she never told him or any of the other guys. That girl is really a blonde demon.’

‘I mean… I kinda understand now why he doesn’t like Ethan but whatever Lina has done it’s not my fault, I’m not like her. I’m not gonna sleep with anyone else’ you say in a defeating tone while sighing ‘I just feel like he doesn’t trust me completely’

‘Hey – don’t overthink this. I don’t think he doesn’t trust you. JK has been always a jealous guy, maybe with you he is a little bit more jealousy than in his previous relationships, but you can see a mile away that he’s fucking smitten with you’

‘You think so? That he’s smitten?’

Chris laughs and says ‘God, are you kidding me? He is like a puppy when he’s around you. I never saw him being like that with someone’

‘A very hot tattooed puppy’ you say while smiling and imagining his toned physique and gosh… that fucking tattoo sleeve that drives you crazy whenever you see it.

‘Is it possible for you to talk about your boyfriend without thirsting over him?’

‘I don’t think I’m capable of doing that honestly. Not with him at least’

‘You’re unbelievable’

‘Thank you’ you respond winking to your best friend while he rolls his eyes at you.

‘Anyways, did you schedule your weekend trip to Jeju already?’

‘Oh, yes! I almost forgot to tell you. We’ll go next month, these few next weeks are going to be a little bit hectic for both of us, so we already arranged everything to travel when things are calmer which is not until next month’

‘Cool! You’ll see, it’s a paradise. I know you’re going to love Jeju, bestie’ said Chris while you were both walking towards the rest of the group that were hanging out on the living room.

You take your seat again on the sofa between Emma and Aria. They are still talking about the wedding date; it’s already set to be in about 9 months. Emma told you both that she really wanted to have the wedding in spring season since she loves the weather in Seoul when it’s springtime, so the wedding will take place around the end of April.

’You are literally glowing since you started dating Jungkook, you know that?’ said Emma while giving you a little smile and nudging your shoulder with hers.

‘Both of you are glowing honestly, I’ve never seen JK that invested on someone’ adds Aria

‘Yeah, I feel like that too. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before. Though the first stages of relationships tend to be like the honey-moon phase, but I don’t know… it feels different this time around’

‘Yeah, I remember the first months of our relationship; it was all sex and talk, sex and talk and more sex. God, that stage is the best’

Both you and Aria snort at Emma’s words before you talk again ‘You’re engaged to be married and that’s the best stage?’

The three of you laugh hysterically in unison and Emma then clarifies ‘It’s just different. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been and planning the wedding has been amazing so far. But I’ve to say, that first stage of the relationship is a special thing’

‘Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s like you can’t keep your hands to each other’ complements Aria.

That’s when you see Jungkook entering the living room along with Jackson, you didn’t even realize that the doorbell had rang since you were invested in the conversation with the girls. As soon as Jungkook sees you, he smiles widely and winks at you while walking towards your way.

‘That’s a fact, I really can’t keep my hands of him. Now if you excuse me girls, I have to say hello to my boyfriend’ you say while getting up quickly and heading towards JK.

The girls giggled while Aria was rooting for you with a ‘Go get him girl’

You put your arms around JK’s neck and give him a sweet peck on his lips. He then leans his forehead against yours.

‘Hi baby, I missed you’

‘Hi, my handsome bunny, I missed you too’

‘You guys seem like you haven’t seen each other in days. When was the last time you saw each other?’ asked a curious Namjoon making you turn your head towards him.

‘Um. We were together this morning’ you respond shily with a little smile on your face after seeing JK’s neck and the mark you left him, reminiscing how steamy today’s breakfast at your kitchen counter was.

Jungkook buries himself deep inside your tight walls, hands tightening roughly around your upper thighs. You moaned against his lips, overwhelmed at how completely full you feel. He seems a little overwhelmed too, stilling once he’s all the way inside you and holding on to your soft upper thighs for dear life.

“Fuck you’re always so tight, baby” He grates out against your cheek, and you feel his cock twitch inside the confines of your pussy.

Your hands come up to cup his face and you kiss him again, lips moving against his as your walls flutter around his cock, pussy dancing with the shadow of your orgasm. He hasn’t even moved yet and you’re already feeling your orgasm coming to you like a wave. Every place he’s touching you buzzes with electricity, your lips, the skin of your thighs, your pussy. You feel delirious from the way he’s making your body sing.

Jungkook kisses you deeply, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he starts to rock his hips back and forth. He's so thick you can feel every inch of him moving in and out of your entrance.

The sensation of his cock dragging up and down your oversensitive walls makes your eyes roll back into your head and you moan into his mouth wantonly, sure you’re going to cum again already.

JK growls, pulling back to look in your eyes as he slides out and plunges back inside you. Your eyes flutter closed, and you wrap your legs around his waist. When your eyelids peel open again, he’s watching you intently as he eases his hips back with agonizing slowness.

You miss the fullness of his cock inside you, and unable to wait for him to fill you again, you rock forward, smashing your hips back together. You moan into each other’s mouths as his cock is buried even deeper inside your cunt.

“Jesus Christ, baby” He pants, rocking his hips backwards before sinking into you again, falling into a rhythm that satisfies your infinite need for him. Every time he thrusts inside you, you rock your hips forward to meet him, sucking him deeper and sending hot sparks shooting across your pelvis.

You fall back on your palms just as he fucks up into you and his cock touches something inside that makes your thighs tremble.

“Oh my God, I-I’m gonna cum” You gasp, falling back on your elbows as your spine convulses.

“Wanna feel your tight little cunt cum around my dick,” Jungkook groans, mouthing at the hollow of your throat as he pounds between your legs.

"You're gonna,” you promise as you feel a tightness start to coil inside you, "Jesus Christ, Jungkook, you're gonna."

Your pussy flutters around his cock wildly, spiralling towards your release. He shoves your top up, yanking your bra down and takes your peaked nipple in his mouth.

You moan, arching your back and rocking up into him. JK sucks your nipple deeper into his hot mouth as he thrusts inside you and feels it tighten against his tongue as your walls suddenly clamp down around his dick.

You fall back against the counter as your orgasm rips through you, each of your muscles shaking uncontrollably before turning to liquid.

Above you Jungkook moans against your breast, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His hips stutter between your legs as your pulsing walls milk his dick.

"Oh fuck, fuuuuuck,” He cries as he starts to cum, flooding your insides with heat.

He comes hard, a tremble running through his entire body as he empties his release inside you. His hips stutter to a stop and he collapses on top of you with a grunt.

You stay like that for a moment, crumpled against the kitchen counter, held together by sweat and tangled limbs

‘You’re so beautiful’ he breathlessly says while leaning his sweaty forehead on yours.

‘Not as much as you are’ you respond still panting and placing a few pecks on his lips.

With a shaky breath, Jungkook straightens up, pulling you up with him into a sitting position. You stare at the red love bite on his neck through hazy eyes, moaning softly as he drags his cock out of you.

'Too fucking long if you ask me' said JK without taking his eyes off you and making you come back to Earth. You really need to stop thinking about your dirty memories with him, but you can’t control it. He’s so addictive and you really can’t take your hands off each other, these past weeks you’ve literally had sex from Monday to Sunday – not that you’re complaining, oh no, not at all – but you fear you’ll be turning a nymphomaniac if you keep up with this rhythm.

You probably looked like two idiots right now smiling to each other without registering anyone else in the room.

For you it is so easy to get lost in those beautiful eyes. Jungkook is so fucking attractive in any possible way. There's something in the way he moves, the way he looks at you, the way he holds you as if you were the most fragile thing on Earth. He's alluring and you're hypnotized over him. When you’re with him, you're just like a moth to a flame.

‘Jeez, get a room you two,’ you heard Taehyung complaining by the PDA that you two were offering to your friends.

‘Oh! That’s actually a pretty good idea’ responds Jungkook quickly. He then looks towards Jackson and says ‘Hyung, what room can we use?’

‘Jungkook!!’ you say outraged giving him a little smack on his arm making your friends start laughing at you two.

‘I’m just kidding!’ says JK towards his friends but then he leans in towards you and whispers ‘Not really tho, one word and I swear I’ll take you to the nearest room and make you scream my name until you’re out of voice, baby’

You gasp and not even a word is coming out of your mouth, he’s so shameless sometimes and he always catches you off guard.

He smiles at you, but suddenly you notice his lusty eyes softening while he starts caressing your face and you hum to the warm feeling of his hand on your skin. You somehow see through his eyes that he wants to tell you something but he’s restraining so you softly say ‘What?’ while giving him a little smile.

‘I-it’s just… that I’ll never get tired of seeing how cute you look when you’re flustered, noona’

You were so excited over this weekend. Your first trip with Jungkook as a couple. Even though you were together 24/7, it felt different being away from the busy Seoul and you both needed some time off.

The trip to Jeju on plane was really short. A little bit over an hour and you were already landing on this beautiful island.

As soon as you got to the resort where you’ll be staying for the weekend, you accommodated your belongings on your room – which was insanely beautiful with a balcony right in front of the sea – and you took a cute picture of you and JK with the sea view from the balcony to send it over to your best friend, since after all this was all a gift from him.

Chris bestie: Enjoy it, love birds! You look happy!

We are, thank u bestie, this is beyond beautiful. We’ll surely enjoy it

Chris bestie: Just try not to break the bed, they have my credit card information 😅

I’m not gonna promise anything, but we’ll try. Love u 😘

Chris bestie: 😒

Chris bestie: Love u too babe!

Jungkook’s bunny smile appears when you show him the messages you’ve exchanged with Chris and in a matter of seconds, he’s caging you against the bed mattress ‘I think before heading to the beach we should try if the mattress is comfortable enough’ he says with his lusty gaze on you while tracing his fingers along your thighs. You’re perplexed, it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen him changing his demeanor in seconds, you’re always surprised of this man’s duality.

And of course, you couldn’t resist. So, you easily compelled to his wishes as always and quickly dishonored your hotel room for quite a long time before changing to your bathing clothes and going to the beach.

“You know, I haven’t seen the sea in almost three years” you explained with a pout that Jungkook simply had had to kiss away. ‘This is so gorgeous’ you say while admiring the sea standing next to the shore.

Two of those three years where fully dedicated to being with your dad as much time as it was possible. That meant no vacations for you or even if you took days off from your work you spent that time right beside your dad. That was the least you could do for him since you weren’t able to take away that awful and unfair illness that was taking his light in a slowly and torturous way.

Jungkook hadn’t seen the sea in some time either, although not as much as you, and it really was gorgeous. Yet, his eyes were easily moved away by the woman standing beside him, you.

‘What are you doing?’ he asks with a frown on his face when he sees you tugging the end of your dress up.

‘Uh, taking my dress off so I can get a little bit of vitamin D in my system’

‘Yeah, no. You’re almost naked, I don’t want anyone to be thirsting over my girlfriend’

You look around and you see you’re basically alone in this beach. Chris had told you that it was one of the most private beaches of Jeju and that’s why he also chose the hotel resort that’s just in front of it.

You snort and roll your eyes at your boyfriend ‘Are you kidding me? We are at a freaking beach and it’s just a bikini Jungkook, I’m not naked. Plus, we are all alone’

He looks around confirming that there’s no one near you.

‘Okay, but just for a bit baby, the sun is hitting quite strong, you’ll might get burn’

‘Yeah, you’re right, it’ll be just 10 minutes’ you say handing him the sunscreen ‘Could you apply sunscreen on my back, cutie?’

He gives you a little smirk and softly turns you around while whispering on your ear ‘Sure, baby’

He takes his time applying the sunscreen on your body, too much time – you think – so you slightly turn your head around and you see he’s staring at your ass while biting his lip piercing and caressing your skin on your shoulders. He obviously already finished applying the sunscreen but he’s salivating at your body, as if he hasn’t been inside you, just half an hour ago.

‘Stop ogling me, we’ve just had sex you beast’

‘I’m down for another round if you want to’

‘You’re unbelievable’ you say giggling at Jungkook’s bunny smile then wrapping your arms around his neck you whisper ‘But I like that idea, maybe when we go back to our room we can have a nice shower time together, baby’

He grabs your ass squeezing it tightly and nudges his nose with yours while saying softly ‘You drive me crazy’

‘Fuck. Stop it Jungkook, you’re such a menace I swear to God’

He laughs and then he pecks you on the lips ‘I’ll take you on a dinner date tonight, there’s a nice restaurant that I found on the internet that supposedly serves amazing pasta, you’ll love it’

‘Yaaaay!’ you say applauding like a little kid. You’re so adorable, he thinks.

‘Now come on, let’s go into the water baby’

He takes off his shirt and now you’re the one salivating. He catches you right on action and while he grabs your hand heading to the sea says, ‘Now who’s the one drooling?’

You’re at the restaurant that JK had chosen. It’s beautiful, all wood interior with stone walls that gives such a warm rustic atmosphere, and the highlight is that it’s placed on a second floor right in front of the sea with the most amazing view of the island and not too far from the resort where you’re staying at.

‘This are, so far, the best short vacation I’ve ever had’ you say while Jungkook smiles brightly at you.

‘Let’s do something like this more often, noona’

Your smile widens. ‘Coming back here?’

When Jungkook shakes his head, though, your smile drops and a small pout appears, making Jungkook laugh at your childish – but always adorable - behavior. ‘Let’s go somewhere else’ he says.

‘I thought you weren’t much of a fan of traveling’

Jungkook’s right hand reaches out to touch your left one, holding it gently on the table while a small smile reappears on his handsome face, making you turn red in an instant. ‘I’m not but I really want to wander with you and make memories, not just here, but somewhere else so we’ll have plenty stories to tell our kids someday’

You swear your heart skips some beats when Jungkook says the words ‘our kids’, and your cheeks once again turn red in a second while your mind wanders to the future where you could picture you two together with little toddlers running around you.

But then again, you aren’t really sure if JK really means what he just said because it’s the first time he says something about having kids, you haven’t discussed a lot about your future yet. It’s not like you don’t want to talk about it or never think about it, but it’s because you don’t want to force off to take your relationship further. You just don’t want to rush things with him, it’s okay to take your time and let things flow naturally.

With those thoughts running through your mind, you couldn’t even produce a word to utter so you just opt to grip Jungkook’s hand tighter, signaling him that you like the idea of you traveling together.

Five minutes later, when you’re both giggling at the silly, weird jokes Jungkook throws at you – which you’re pretty sure he learnt from Jin-, the waiter comes with your meals.

It’s definitely a good evening where you could witness with your own eyes how the sun is starting to go to sleep, yawning away and hiding herself from you slowly yet carefully. The golden light is starting to illuminate the beach below you, and all you could see is the monochromatic colors, something so amazingly beautiful. The sky above you turn into three different colors—rich hued of pink, purple, and yellow.

You eat in silence, but sometimes you utter some words that describe how tasteful your pasta is, and you make a mental note to plan to take Jungkook to some nice restaurant of your choice in your next getaway just like what he did tonight. In ten minutes, you’ve emptied your plates and wiped clean your mouths, smiling from ear to ear. This night felt so special, and you knew it was going to be even more special when JK suggested to have walk by the beach back to the resort under the stars.

The sound of the waves echoed quietly in the darkness of the evening. Fine grains of sand mixed with the waves at your feet and flowed as if you were melting to the seawater. The moonlight was dazzling tonight, and the breeze was mild and warm. The moderate temperature of the tropical summer night air felt good against your both short-sleeved skin.

“Wow, this is amazing” you exclaimed in amazement, stepping closer to the cove as the calm sea surface in front of you reflected the glow of the moon rising into the deep indigo night sky. A wide streak of light stretched from the edge of the waves to the ocean beyond. ‘It really is, just like you baby’ says Jungkook earning a giggle from you.

You are still struck admiring how gorgeous the landscape is when you take a seat over the sand and say ‘Lie down here, Kook. Your neck will hurt if you keep staring at the sky like that’

He quickly follows you sitting right beside you.

‘Look!’

Jungkook turns around to see you pointing at the sky with a mesmerizing stare. Above, the sky is like a black colored blanket—a swirl galaxy of brilliant sparkling stars. Jungkook unconsciously smiles upon seeing that.

You lie next to each other, almost no space between you two and when JK opens his arm to hug your figure, you easily rest your head in his strong arm where you feel safe.

‘When I go sky gazing like this, it seems like the time slows down and everything is in slow-paced’ you say, eyes still staring at the sky above. ‘It's calming’

‘It's good to have an escape from the busy world’ Jungkook says in a whisper.

You nod at that, and when you see the sparkling stars in the east, you continue your rambling. ‘I wonder if many people notice how pretty the night sky is today. It's dark up there but something about it feels calming and terrific at once. I don't know how to put it into words, though, but it feels like when you look at those stars, they look back at you and see right through your eyes into your soul’

Sometimes Jungkook is amazed at how you are so good with expressing what you’re thinking, and how beautiful your words are even though sometimes they come in jumbled sentences.

‘I think the night sky is so much like you, though’ you continue to speak, and even when he tilts your head to look at you, you don't move your gaze from the sky above you. ‘It's awesome and brave but it also looks soft and serene. Its tranquility brings so much joy to many, and its splendor makes you braver and bolder to live. Just like what you always do...’

You then shift your gaze to Jungkook who now looks at you like he's touched by your words. His eyes become softer as if he's telling you how he loves hearing those words coming from your own lips.

‘...to me’

You seal your words with a soft kiss, something innocent-like and you could feel that Jungkook is smiling in your kiss.

You continue to sky gazing, not minding what time it is now because you feel like you have forever to stay there. Suddenly, you have this sort of feeling that you’ve already had in the past a few times and say ‘I feel like my dad is watching over us’

Jungkook turns to you with a little smile and squeezes tightly your hand. ‘I’m sure your dad is watching over you, baby’

‘You know, I talk to him from time to time’ you confess while you study JK’s face, he just looks at you with the same sweet doe eyes as always, but you feel the need to clarify ‘I’m not crazy I promise but I do feel his presence a lot and it makes me feel better every time I talk to him’

‘I don’t think you’re crazy at all’ he says while grabbing your chin and giving you a little peck on your lips ‘You should talk to him now then, if you feel comfortable talking to him in front of me’

You smile at his sweetness and say ‘Of course I feel comfortable, Kook’

He smiles back at you and softly says ‘Go on then, baby’ while turning his head again to the stars in the sky.

‘Hi dad’ you take a second and go on ‘I haven’t talked to you in a while. I miss you so much’

Jungkook’s heart ached for you. The tone in your voice just showed how much you meant every one of your words. He placed a kiss on the back of your hand while you continued to talk to your father.

‘I have a lot to tell you. Remember that sweet doe eyes guy called Jungkook that I talked to you about last time?’

Jungkook eyes started to feel watery coming to notice that you’ve talked about him to your dad. His heart now starts to feel warmer while he keeps silent hearing attentively your sweet voice, you’re just a dream to him.

‘Well, he’s my boyfriend now. I’m sure you would have loved him if you had the chance to meet him. He’s amazing, he takes such a good care of me, and he makes me so happy that I feel like my heart is about to explode. And…’ you pause for a second thinking about what you’re about to say, it’s huge for you but it feels right, it feels natural, and you can’t keep it to yourself anymore, so you brave yourself and continue confessing ‘I’ve come to realize that… I love him’

You turn your head towards JK, his eyes were already full of tears. He couldn’t believe that you were saying that you love him for the first time. He had been feeling the same way for a long time, but every time he was about to tell you those three words, he would chicken out afraid that you wouldn’t be able to reciprocate his feelings and now here you are, telling him in the most beautiful way that you love him.

‘I love you Jungkook, I really do’ you say while some tears start falling from your eyes too. ‘I don’t know what I did in my previous life to deserve someone like you by my side. I’m just so fucking happy when I’m with you and I want you to know that I love you with every fiber of my being’

Jungkook felt like his heart was exploding in happiness. He cupped your face while you both had tears coming down your face and made you look him straight to his beautiful eyes. ‘I love you too, Y/N. So-fucking-much’

‘You’re a dream come true and falling in love with you has made me the happiest guy in the world. I love you; I love that you have such a kind heart, I love every part of you, and I swear I’ll do everything that I possibly can to make you happy always’

At this point you were both a mess, tears were falling non-stop from your eyes. You crush your lips together in a passionate kiss for a solid minute and suddenly JK stops it making you furrow your eyebrows when he looks up to the stars while saying ‘Sorry Sir for cursing out earlier. I just love your daughter a lot and I’ll take good care of her, I promise’

You snicker and he replicates you then going for another sweet kiss.

After a few more minutes, you start to feel the air a little bit chilly and JK noticing the goosebumps on your skin, suggested that it was time to go back to your hotel room which you complied, and you both happily returned together hand in hand.

As soon as you entered your room you couldn’t stop touching each other, kissing as if your life depended on it and Jungkook made sure to take you directly next to the bed.

He is so romantic, such a dream come true. All in all, in every aspect. While dominant, he will always make sure your pleasure comes first. He will tease you until you writhe and moan for more. He will not focus on himself until you are begging, your mind breaking, your mouth open for what feels like an eternity, calling his name with sweet coos. He will always give you what you want; what you need so desperately, without question. While your walls clench around him, begging for his own release, only then will he give in.

That is what being with Jeon Jungkook is like. Much like an oncoming storm, where you feel calm and collected until you see the clouds threaten you with rain. You know what is coming, every time, but you are still taken by surprise.

He starts with lavishing you with kisses, starting from your jawline, inching toward your ear to give it a slight nibble. The pressure from his teeth, the sound of his breath enhanced, and the need for him to keep going eggs him on. He continues placing soft kisses down your neck until he gently nips at the flesh, sucking slightly to create patches of purple to mark you.

You are his, after all. While he is eliciting the gentlest of noises from your mouth, you tousle his hair in your hands; an action to tell him to keep going. You can feel as he smiles against your skin at the crook of your neck, where you feel him lick and suck at the flesh.

To his dismay, you are both still clothed. He looks at you for your consent, bright brown eyes lidded with lust, as he begins to unbutton your shirt. You nod, gently squeezing at his scalp. He plants more kisses on the newly exposed skin, as his hand makes quick justice to release your clothed skin to him. You are so beautiful to him, a person to be loved and appreciated. The way you look at him with anticipation of his next step; the way your eyes glimmer with hope when he makes you feel good. He could paint many pictures with the mental images he stored ensuring that you are taken care of.

He finally unbuttons the rest of your shirt, taking it off of you to see the beauty of your curves. He still needs to address your bra, but that can wait for now while he worships the rest of your exposed torso with his marks and kisses. He wants you to know that you deserve proper lovemaking, not just a quick fuck.

Marks peppering your torso to prove that you are his. Knowing that while he has never allowed himself to know this kind of love before – real love he would call it -, that he has accepted his defeat of the heart when it comes to you. He looks at you as he plants one last kiss above the button on your trousers, keeping them on for now as he wants to lavish the still exposed parts of you slowly. He does not want this to end, knowing that each day could be the last. He wants to give you everything and more.

He places you on his lap, still clothed and extremely hard. His bulge strains his pants, urging for release, but not giving in. The focus is entirely on you and your needs. He can wait.

He takes his time, slowly unclasping the white lace bra you have on, and peeling it off of your now glistening skin.

The full moon accentuating your breasts as the light peaks into the room. He takes no time placing the right bud on your breast into his mouth, gently nipping and sucking, while using his fingers to pinch the left bud.

The sweet sounds you make, the mewling, the way you writhe in his lap at his every touch swells him with pride in knowing that only he can make those beautiful noises come out of you.

He looks up at you, wanting to not miss how you slightly open your mouth with hooded eyes staring down at him. He had not noticed when you took your hands off of his head to bring your hands to his knees, which helps support you.

His hands then travelled past your waist, onto your trousers, gently using a finger to trace along where your skin meets the material. He continues sucking and nibbling at your breasts, wanting to make sure that you feel pleasure the entire time he is with you. A finger would eventually find the trousers button, pulling at it swiftly to pop them open.

Strong hands begin to pull down your pants, urging you to change positions, as it is impossible to take them off while sitting in his lap.

You hold onto his neck like clockwork; knowing what his every whim and want is. He lifts you, legs still wrapped around him, until he places you onto the bed like a porcelain doll. Your hair splayed out, a slight blush on your cheeks, your chest falling up and down. You watch as he takes your trousers off, peeling them from your skin, while keeping the white laced panties covering your sex.

He gently traces his finger along your inner thigh, while placing kisses above your panties. He continues kissing along the white fabric, slowly heading toward the covered bundle of nerves.

He mentally notes how soaked you are from just his tender touches, this time not wanting any vulgar comments to change the mood. He gently places both hands to keep your legs spread, as he kneels in front of the clothed flesh.

You would feel as he gently laps at the panties that houses your burning desire. You want more, need more, but he refuses to give in just yet. He traces along your clothed folds with his index finger, watching how your hips buck ever so slightly to his touch. He knows the power he has over you, which makes him chuckle to himself. He wants you to feel every ounce of pleasure, and that means taking it slow.

The gamble of teasing, as he likes to call it, where you will either hate him or love him for it. So far, it looks like you are loving it, which means his gamble paid off. His devotion to make sure you feel every touch, every lick, every pulse - has paid off.

He comes back up to your face, kissing your lips feverishly. Both of you melt into the moment, as your legs wrap around him to keep him close.

Your hands are back in his hair, kneading at the scalp as you hungrily desire more. His tongue begs for entry at your lips, to which you oblige, giving him access to meet your tongue. His finger would start drawing circles around clothed clit, not wanting you to have the full exposure to pleasure just yet. You claw at his back, demanding more stimulation from him, still not backing down from the clashing of tongues.

You feel his finger stop all motion, lifting his hand away from your clothed sex. You feel the pull of your panties, helping to guide them off your ass, while slowly feeling him peel them off your sex and fabric glide down your legs. You are fully exposed to him, legs kept open with his hands on the inside of your thighs.

He breaks away from the kiss, fully knowing that he is finally going to give you what you desire at this moment. He places strings of kisses down your neck, your torso, all the way to that sensitive bundle of nerves that you want him to touch. The kiss sends electricity through your body, as he begins to suck and lap against your clit. He holds your legs in place as he feels you twitch and writhe at his every touch. He nips gently at the bud, urging you to feel more and more sensation.

He leaves one hand on one of your thighs, and you begin to feel his index finger slide up and down your entrance. He enjoys knowing how wet he makes you; gathering your slick so he can make you feel more. You feel him stick his index finger against your entrance, pushing past any clenching of your walls, and proceeds to utilize movements in a come-hither motion against your sweet spot.

You cannot help but moan, the tension from his tongue, the sucking, and the way he presses his finger into you creating more and more build up. You can feel as he smiles against your clit; his sense of pride swelling, knowing he can turn you into a moaning mess with just his mouth and finger. He can feel how your walls tense more and hear your sweet sounds becoming hastier.

‘You're doing so good for me, baby. Cum for me, cum on my fingers baby’ He coos, then continues sucking and lapping at the most sensitive part of you. His encouragement gives you the final push you need for your release.

You begin moaning his name as you thrash under his unrelenting touches. He continues his movements while you tug at his hair, your body on fire for what feels like an eternity.

Finally, he slows his own movements and allows you to recuperate, coming down from the high and letting your breathing settle. He brings his body up and kisses you, giving you a taste of your own nectar. You look up at him, knowing that you want him to feel good, too.

His bulge strains his pants still, ready to break free and feel your warmth. You begin unbuttoning his shirt, while he continues sloppily kissing your mouth. You gently use your index finger to touch every muscle, feeling how they tense from your movements. He takes off his now unbuttoned shirt, the moonlight highlighting every muscle.

He truly is a handsome man, he takes your breath away every single time, it almost feels like your eyes are not able to assimilate how perfectly gorgeous your boyfriend is.

You break away from the kiss and stare up at him. You want him to feel good, and you buck your hips so that his bulge finds friction against your folds. He lets out a strangled moan from the clearly torturous action. You bite your lip, still staring at him with hunger, and unbutton his trousers. He takes the hint, as you watch him stand up to take off his trousers and boxers to reveal his swollen member. He shows you how you have made him feel by gathering the pre-cum from his pink tip and using it to lubricate his painfully slow motions on his cock.

You swiftly move so that your head is in the direction of his cock. You want him to feel good from your own movements, just like he did to you. You look up at him, as he removes his hand, and you begin to take his swollen member all the way into your mouth. You suck, hollowing your cheeks, back and forth. You feel as he places his hand on your head, gently tugging your hair, but giving you full reign. He watches as his cock enters almost fully to your mouth, how your spit lubricates and enhances the feeling. He rolls his head back, moaning out your name, as you softly tease his cock with your tongue. He wants you badly, he wants to lavish you in pleasure, he wants you moaning only his name while he gives you your release.

With a subtle pop, he pushes you back onto the bed. You know from the look in his eyes that he wants to be in charge; not just for his own release, but for you to orgasm again. Jungkook, always such a gentleman, finding a way to make his own pleasure yours. He pushes your legs around his hips, giving him ample access to your slick entrance. He knows there is no need for lubricant, as he pushes his cock up and down your slit.

'God, you're so wet for me, baby' his eyes filled with lust and hunger, 'Only I can make you feel this way. Isn't that right, noona?' He kisses your neck, slightly sucking on the flesh to mark you again.

'Yes, Kook! Only you can make me feel this way' You keep feeling him tease your entrance, keeping you on your toes on if he will enter you or not. You look up at him with pleading eyes, twitching every time his cock finds the entry to your cunt, only to feel it vacate again.

'Beg for me, baby' The smirk on Jungkook's face said it all, knowing that he loves making you so needy for him.

'B-baby, please… You know I need you, that only you can make me feel so good! Please, Kook, please fuck me! Make me feel good!' In one fell swoop, you feel his cock enter you to the hilt, filling you up entirely.

You gasp at the sensation, never wanting it to go away. He pushes his head back slightly at the feeling of your warmth, giving you a moment to adjust to the feeling. You put your arms around his neck and kiss him passionately, which gives him the okay to start moving.

His actions are slow but with the intent to build up your desire, wanting you to writhe and scream his name as he gets closer to his release. He continues kissing you, tongues finding one another once again. He uses his index finger and thumb to tweak and tug one of your nipples as he hardens his thrusts to the sounds of your exquisite sounds. You moan fervently against his lips, unable to contain them.

He takes this as an opportunity to place more marks on your neck, the feeling making you even louder than before. He grunts against your ear, sending shockwaves down your entire body. You knew you were not going to last much longer with Jungkook paying so much attention to your needy body.

He stops tweaking your nipple and brings his index finger down to your clit. He knows how good it makes you feel when he is deep inside, thrusting intensely, while your sensitive bud gets some well-deserved attention. He watches your face contort, how your head falls back slightly and the way your eyes roll back as he quickens his thrusts. This is the image he wants kept in his mind forever, the sounds he wants played in his head forever; you are entirely his.

His grunts quicken as he gets closer to his release; he wants you to be first, though. He sucks on your earlobe and begins to tell you how beautiful you are on his cock, how you take him so well, how you sound so gorgeous to him with your needy moans. You were getting closer to your release, knowing you will not last much longer with his thrusts deepening, the circling on your clit, and his words egging you on. You can feel your muscles clench more and more, and your walls begin to tighten more. You were close, and he knew it.

‘Baby, cum for me. Cum on my cock and squeeze me dry. Let me give you all of me’ His voice began to waver, holding back his release. That was all the permission you needed, as you felt your entire body tense, your pleasure rising through your spine all the way to your clenching, wet pussy. His fingers still tracing circles gently against your clit, making you writhe and scream. He quickens the pace, enjoying the feeling of you so desperate around his cock, feeling your walls willing him to cum.

‘Baby, I'm going to c-cum… where do you want me, noona?’

‘Inside, baby, inside. Cum inside me Kook, make me yours!’ You scream out, still highly sensitive from your orgasm, still writhing from Jungkook's actions. The invitation sent him over the edge, as if he has never been allowed to cum in you before. There's something about you ordering him to cum inside you that always turned him on like nothing before, sending a fire through his entire body.

He felt your walls milk every pulse of his swollen member, his cum threatening to overflow. He moaned your name, telling you how much he loved you, telling you how much he needs you.

At the end of his high, he collapsed onto your glowing body. Both of you spent, not wanting to move, while he was still inside.

After a moment to catch your breath, you gently placed a kiss on his forehead. You wanted this moment to last forever, seeing him so peaceful, his brown eyes looking at you with devotion. He kisses your nose and begins the process of worshipping your body with gentle touches and kisses.

He then takes the time to grab a clean rag that was on his bedside table, quickly using it to grab any cum that may seep out of you. He took his time, cleaning your sensitive area, while peppering kisses on your thigh and stomach. You just laid back, relaxed, and occasionally placed the palm of your hand on his cheek with adoration.

‘Would you care for a bath, baby? You deserve it. You won’t need to do a thing; I saw there’s a bag of lavender and chamomile for bathing. Only if you want to, of course’

You looked up at Jungkook and smiled, gently nodding your head. He left the room to get ready the bath, the distinct noise of running water from the tap vibrating through the room. You felt yourself smiling, knowing how devoted and loving he is. You heard the water stop running, some rustling around, and he came into the room. He gently pulled you to him, lifting you up bridal style, as you placed your arms around his neck. You trusted this man with your life, both on and off the field.

You felt the water slowly submerge your body as you were placed into the tub. The smell of chamomile and lavender enhancing the feeling of love and devotion. You looked up at Jungkook, watching as he took soap into the cloth on his hand, lathering it up, and using the utmost care to clean you. You hummed, the feeling of sweat and sex coming off of your body. Once he cleaned your body, you allowed yourself to give him room in the tub.

‘Come join me, cutie. You deserve some aftercare, too’ You smiled, taking the soap filled rag from his hands. He slowly stepped into the tub, allowing himself to sit and submerge himself on the opposite end of you. You took to gently washing his body, your touch making him recognize how truly lucky he is.

Once you were both clean, he hopped out and grabbed a set of matching towels. He placed one along his waist and offered his hand to you so that you could stand. Once standing, he wrapped the towel around your body, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you into an embrace.

He kissed every mark he left on your neck gently, holding you tightly, almost as though you were at risk of running if he let you go. He then took the time to dry your body off, urging the towel you had on off. After he carefully dried you off, he did the same to himself quickly. He then placed your hand in his and led you back to the bed, taking the blankets off so you both could enter the sleeping world.

You both got onto your respective sides and faced each other. You caressed his face and he melted into your touch, as he held your wrist with his hand. You smiled sweetly at him, both of you wishing that you could live life in this moment forever.

‘I love you, baby’ He was gentle, voice barely over a whisper. His eyes glimmered, heart full of happiness.

‘I love you, too, bunny’ You closed your eyes, and drifted to sleep, knowing that the man in front of you made you feel loved and safe.

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charliespringsleftconverse · 1 year ago

Text

Kiss Me Again

Word Count: 8,645 | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Writer’s Notes: I was going to have a friend proof this for me but they were busy so I did some multiple self-revisions in the past few days in hopes that I caught as many grammar errors as possible. Apologies if I missed any! Anyway! This is a college AU ACOTAR Feysand fic. The concept was idiots in love. As in, they’ve baaaasically been doing couply stuff but they were too blind to see or acknowledge that they’d been in love and acting as a couple for a while. <3

I don’t typically write AU fics, so this is a first for me! That being said, it was so much fun to write. It’s actually the longest one-shot I’ve written! A HUGE Happy Holidays to @thegloweringcastle <3 I hope you enjoy it and finally find out who got left at the supermarket! 😂

Thank you to @acotargiftexchange for putting this event together once again! I LOVE participating in this every year! <3

Squinting at the scribbles below, my eyes attempted to decipher the notes I’d borrowed. I had been able to make out the date thanks to the simple fact that it hadn’t been written in cursive like the rest of the details. It was a lost art form for me just like any other calligraphy-related configuration. I would have written down my own notes for the humanities course I was taking, in plain print, had my younger sister not lost the key to her dorm room. With her roommate out of town for the week, there wasn’t much Elain could have done outside of calling her Resident Assistant, which, to her dismay, also happened to be her ex-boyfriend. So, rather than having to face Grayson more than she needed to, she’d called me.

Lucky for Elain, I kept a spare. All of my sisters and I did, actually. Nesta, Elain, and I all had a key to each other’s place. It had been especially helpful when we all lived on campus last year. We could just walk into each other’s rooms at any time. Like when I needed help with my homework for Calculus with Analytic Geometry and borrowed Nesta’s notes from her sophomore year. Or when Nesta needed to borrow my curling iron for a date. And, of course, how could I forget the night that Elain and her then-boyfriend broke up. She had refused to leave her room for two days. I had never been so grateful to have access to a spare key. Nesta and I had been so worried having not heard from her for more than a day. We spent that entire weekend taking turns bringing her food from her favorite places across town in hopes that they’d brighten her spirits. Thai food from Adriata’s Palace, Italian Cuisine from Neve’s Garden, and Mexican from Rita’s Margaritas. I had never seen my sister so devastated in her life. Although to be fair, Elain had never dated a boy before Grayson.

I turned the notebook a bit to the side in hopes that the lighting from the new angle would bless me with a hint as to what words hid behind Mor’s beautiful script. Mother above. Shaking my head, I bit my lip. I should have listened to my mother when she said that learning cursive would be an invaluable skill. She was certainly right in thinking that it was a dying skill. It was dead on me for sure. Hell, the only people I knew who still wrote in cursive were sorority recruitment leads when they made their colorful, extravagant banners with fancy lettering and doctors. Which would make sense at the moment given who I had borrowed these notes from. Zeta Tau Alpha’s latest Chapter President. My mother was certainly wagging her finger at me from wherever she was.

I sighed.

“You look more concentrated than my morning orange juice,” said Rhysand, sitting across the table. His violet eyes studying me, his brows raised in concern. We’d—he’d been studying for the past thirty minutes, meanwhile, I’d just been heavy-breathing and decoding what looked like a cipher like a treasure hunter in search of the coordinates to an ancient Greek secret temple. But unlike an archeologist, my work proved unfruitful.

“I’m trying to decipher Mor’s handwriting,” I said. Leaning back on the chair, I let out another loud sigh. “It’s beautiful. But I can’t read cursive for shit.”

Rhys and I had known each other since freshman year. More specifically, ever since I accidentally dropped a shoe on him from the fourth floor of the residence halls. I had originally been aiming for my roommate Viviane to catch, who to this day still wanted to room with me. She hadn’t wanted to come up again to retrieve the missing shoe and I didn’t want to go downstairs in a towel as I’d just come out of the shower and was still undressed.

The natural decision was to just fling the sneaker out the window of our dorm room, obviously. What we didn’t account for was my terrible aim and Viviane’s lack of hand-eye coordination. Not only did Rhys get bumped in the head by a single white platform Vans but he also got pushed into a bush by Viviane. She had been so busy looking up, that she forgot to look forward and completely missed the 6-foot man inches from her. It had been a miracle Viviane herself hadn’t impaled the shrubbery along with him. I’ll never forget the mortified look Viviane and I mirrored, eyes wide and hands over mouth. All I could think was, he’s concussed. I concussed a man.

Personally, if someone had smacked me on the head, I would have at least yelled at them. Maybe even called them a prick. Rhys, however, was a different breed of man. He had certainly groaned on impact but as soon as he realized he had backflipped into a small hedge and held a women’s size 8 shoe on his lap, he laughed. He let out a full belly laugh. This man—this stranger—had the audacity to laugh given the circumstances. I suppose I should have realized from that moment that nothing could truly take him by surprise or upend his day. A trait I admired. One I hoped seeped into my bones by osmosis or whatever symbiotic science allows personal characteristics to flow from one person to another.

I apologized profusely to this man. In a towel from my window. In my pajamas after I ran downstairs. In his residence hall, after Viviane helped me put together an apology basket when we discovered he lived across from her boyfriend Kallias. Even then, this 6-foot-something of a man thought it was funny. Every. Single. Time. To which I convinced myself, I’d more than concussed him. I convinced myself I’d done serious damage for a man to laugh at that level of pain. Although, I suppose that if two people showed up in their dinosaur onesies at 9 pm on a Thursday evening with a basket for me, I’d also laugh. But still.

It wasn’t until that very week that I realized Rhys and I shared similar classes. We were both in English Composition, Principles of Chemistry, and Introduction to Sociology. Which, quite honestly, are more than enough courses for you to figure out if you have the same schedule as another student. What can I say, I’m oblivious—an ongoing theme in my life.

Another thing I’ll never forget, the smug look on Rhys’s face when we were paired together in English Composition for a research paper on the portrayal of minorities in the media. I’d wanted to find the nearest cliff and jump off it but destiny had other plans. No, fate looked me straight in the eye and said, “Hold my drink, bestie” because two years later, here we are. Best friends.

Rhysand snatched the paper out of my hands. “The Gate of Athena Archegetis was dedicated to the patron goddess of Athens, Athena.”

My hand rushed to jot down what he said. The table vibrated from the ferocity with which I scribbled on my notebook. What I couldn’t crack in thirty minutes took Rhys all of two seconds to read out. Why our professor for that course didn’t allow laptops or tablets for note taking, I’ll never understand. I was just grateful I had something legible transcribed now.

“You can read that? It might as well have been written entirely in Latin,” I said.

“I’ve had practice reading my cousin's handwriting for years. I’d be disappointed if I couldn’t, at this point.” Rhysand chuckled. Passing the page, he eyed the notes, likely reviewing the contents from the course he’d taken himself the semester before.

“I, unfortunately, was blessed with my father’s handwriting.” I tugged at the sleeves of my V-neck indigo cardigan and shyly pointed at my hideous penmanship. It might as well have been written by a third-grader. It was practically childlike. There wasn’t much fixing that could be done at this point in my life when it came to my writing unless I signed up for a calligraphy course. And even then, life had no guarantees.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. An art major who couldn’t read or write a visual art form. Who could paint true-to-life full-body portraits, vivid illustrations of natural landscapes, and dramatic high-colored oil paintings but couldn’t read or write in cursive. I dropped my shoulders, frustrated with myself, and propped my legs up on the tufted dining chair pulling them against my chest with my arms wrapped around.

Rhys’s eyes were back on me. He had a way of reading me like a billboard sign, and I could tell he was trying to figure out what was going on through my mind, what today’s bold neon letters were. I was never sure how he did it but he always knew exactly what I was thinking. Which either meant my face was easy to read and I had the worst poker face of all time or…he just knew me.

“The ‘A’ in cursive is not a sharp letter. It’s more rounded and looks the exact same in both upper and lowercase. Similar to the way you’d write it in print,” he said.

There were several traits I admired about Rhys outside of his keen observations and nonchalant perspective on life. Like his level of empathy. I knew what his academic grades looked like but boy did I also want to know what his emotional quotient score was. Whatever it was, that score was certainly high. He never made anyone feel like their shortfalls were a hindrance. Nor would he want to. That wasn’t his style. Rather than point out my flaws and make me feel embarrassed, he read the notes aloud.

“The Greek language served as a lingua franca,” he continued.

“That last phrase was actual Latin,” he added. Rhys flipped through the pages of Mor’s notes. I could have asked him for his own from last semester since he’d been able to sign up on time. I, on the other hand, had been wait-listed. Hence why I was taking the course in the spring. It was one of the few classes we all needed to graduate as it was one of the general requirements for all offered degrees. I probably should have asked him for his notes since I could his penmanship but I’d been too caught up with Elain yesterday to even consider asking.

“Here’s another one, in vino veritas,” said Mor, raising two bottles of wine toward us. “In wine there is truth.”

“Amen,” said Cassian, lifting a third bottle.

“I thought you two went out grocery shopping,” said Rhysand. Laying the notes on the table, he crossed his arms eyeing the two figures by the door. The corner of Rhys’s mouth twitched as he raised an eyebrow at his cousin and roommate.

“We did. We brought back the essentials,” said Mor. Smiling back at her cousin, she winked at him before closing the door to the apartment with a kick of her red platform heels.

“Hmm,” Rhys hummed.

Bringing his eyes back to me, Rhysand continued reading off the notes while the other two flocked into the kitchen. I bit the inside of my lip as I followed along the soothing sound of his voice. His warm tone always calmed me when we studied together. Which was why I was his favorite audience member when he needed to practice his presentations. I’d listen attentively, the first time. I’d even provide feedback, the second time. But I’d almost always fall asleep to the sound of his enchanting mellifluous voice any other time after that.

“It’s wine night, Rhys. You know the rules,” said Mor from the other room. Every Friday was wine night, the one day of the week our friend group could get together with no interruptions or excuses. No one had an evening class on Fridays or a night shift so things worked out this semester. Most of the extracurriculars each of us participated in typically held events over the weekend so we’d truly lucked out with everyone’s schedules this time. It wasn’t something we were likely to have again so we were taking advantage of every Friday we had before some of us graduated.

Though, that was one of the rules. No talks about graduation. The point of wine night was to live in the moment and enjoy however many Fridays we had left as the “Inner Circle.” It was a silly name Cassian spewed one night after downing 3 bottles of wine, and it kind of stuck. We didn’t exactly call our group that but we did change our group chat name accordingly.

“You too, Feyre.” Mor’s voice echoed.

Another rule. No homework. That rule was more of a precaution so none of us would accidentally email professors the wrong file while inebriated. To be fair, I was only taking notes but we all tried to abide by the no homework rule as best as we could.

“Give me a few minutes, and I’m all yours,” I said.

“You’re telling me you’ve had all day to write those and you still haven’t?” asked Mor, her voice trailing from deeper in the apartment as she stepped from room to room. She had her apartment across town but, like me, she practically lived here too.

“Yeah, well…there have been some delays,” I said, fidgeting with my pencil. My face began to feel warm as blood rushed into my cheeks. Biting my lip, I kept my eyes down. I didn’t want to let Mor know that I hadn’t been able to write her notes because I couldn’t read her notes. Not that she would make fun of me for it but I knew that if I confessed the truth she’d barge me with questions. And I simply did not feel like answering any of that in front of everyone else. All I wanted was for something to distract her from prying right now. Just about anything would do. A pigeon flying in through the window. The fan in the living room mysteriously falling onto the table. A fire alarm. A knock on the door. Anything would do. Please.

“Weren’t there three of you when you left?” asked Rhysand.

I felt my body relax, and my shoulders dropped. I hadn’t realized the muscles down my back had tightened and tensed so firmly until my body loosened and eased back into the chair. My eyes lifted, meeting Rhysand’s whose amethyst orbs were right on me. He winked. The man knew I’d been on the brink of jumping out a window and needed assistance to divert the tall blonde in the kitchen and I loved him for it.

“Azriel!” said Cassian and Mor in unison. The sound of shoes running filled the kitchen accompanied by that of drawers shutting in a hurry, and the jingle of keys. The pair dashed around the apartment like parents who’d just forgotten their child at the supermarket, which was exactly what had happened. Somewhat.

A knock sounded at the door.

The four of us froze and exchanged glances. The only thought I had in my mind was of Azriel, hoping he hadn’t walked all the way back here. Mor took slow steady steps towards the entrance and when she reached the doorknob, she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, took a deep breath, and pressed her lips together. Ever so delicately, she turned the knob and pulled the door towards her.

"Today was not my best day. I dare say it didn't even make the top five," said Azriel. He had one hand reaching the top of the doorframe, leaning slightly. His handsome face held no clear emotion but his eyes. His cold eyes stared down at Mor, making her smaller than she was. Oh, he is pissed.

“You left something at the grocery store,” said Nesta, pushing past the brooding body. Her heels clicked as she waltzed into the room wearing a black satin sleeveless dress that hugged her in all the right places from her chest to her hips. The slit on the right side exposed her up to her mid-thigh with every step. Cassian’s eyes immediately caught the movement as they slid up her body, stopping once they met her eyes.

“I would never have left you, Nes,” said Cassian. He took a step toward her, almost challenging her gaze. She held it, eyed him up and down sizing him up, and spun to face the rest of the room. With her back to him, she placed a hand on her hip, blatantly ignoring the door-framed-sized man behind her.

Cassian stepped closer and slid his hands around her body, holding her closer. Nesta didn’t fight him. If I had blinked, I might have missed the slight shift of her body against him, leaning against his chest even closer. It was beyond anyone’s pay grade to understand where they stood in their relationship if it was even that. They’d been on and off for so long that their situationship was like the weather, something that had to be measured in every room.

“I despise you,” said Nesta, with a hint of a smile on the corner of her lips.

“Keep telling yourself that,” said Cassian.

“Are you headed out tonight, Nesta?” I asked.

“I only came to deliver the lost puppy,” said Nesta, taking a step forward and away from the figure wrapped around her. Cassian’s jaw ticked as she untangled herself from his embrace. “I’m headed out with the girls.”

Gwyn and Emerie, I thought. That’s who she almost always referred to. They’d been her closest friends since freshman year and they’d been inseparable from the moment they met. It was surprising that they hadn’t come up with her since they all lived together.

“Gwyn’s downstairs waiting for me, and Emerie is already in the car,” she said.

There it was.

“You should take better care of pretty things,” said Nesta, walking towards the door. Elegantly spinning, her eyes met Cassian’s from beneath the doorframe. Her fingers slipped up her thigh to her waist sensually, her eyes never breaking contact as she spoke. “Someone else might steal them.”

She closed the door on her way out, leaving the rest of us too stunned to speak.

“I’m gonna marry that woman,” said Cassian.

“Wine, anyone?” said Mor.

——

"I almost fist-fought you last night when you took the blanket," I said. Tugging on the dark blue throw-over, I pulled it over myself enough to cover my legs entirely as I sat criss crossed on the couch. The star-filled spread was dark and fluffy like Amren’s black Bombay cat. With three glasses of wine in me, if I closed my eyes and traced my hand down the blanket, I could almost picture Ruby on my lap. She was soft and cud—

A pull on the blanket brought my thoughts back.

“You snore. Loudly," said Rhys.

"I do not snore, you liar." I scoffed, tugging back on the blanket.

We’d both fallen asleep on his bed last night after an intense studying session. Although our schedules were no longer as identical as they’d been during freshman year, we still shared one or two courses every so often. Like this semester, we had Solar System Astronomy together. We’d stayed up late on the balcony of his apartment looking up at the constellations seeing how many we could name and then placing their locations on a star map.

With 88 constellations in the sky, as recognized by the International Astronomical Union, we’d been able to spot at least seven. Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Orion, Cassiopeia, Cepheus, Draco, and—my face was beginning to feel very warm.

"How did the blanket end up on the floor? No wonder I was freezing," said Rhys. He was leaning against the backrest of the couch, one hand on the armrest holding his glass of wine. Rhysand’s dark lilac eyes sparked with mischief. He was baiting me and I was definitely too inebriated to ignore his comments.

“How could you be freezing? You’re a freaking furnace!” I exclaimed.

“Then why’d you steal the blanket? I’m basically primed for cuddles.” Rhys’s other hand reached around me and tugged me towards him. I laughed against his chest, and let my body lean into him.

“Mother above, you two bicker like a married couple,” said Mor. She was leaning against the doorway leading to the balcony. With the door open, the cool breeze blew in, brushing her long golden hair past her shoulder. Her eyes darted between where Rhys and I sat on the couch and then shifted to something behind us. I was too focused on the elegant way she held her glass to glance away from her posture.

“It’s not bickering if I’m right.” I slapped Rhys against his chest playfully. His chest vibrated with a chuckle.

“Az, play that one song from the other night,” said Amren. With her wine glass inches from her lips in one hand, she pointed at Azriel with her other. There was a lot you learned about a person while under the influence. In Amren’s case, during the day, she was a short-tempered finance major student who ate boys and numbers for breakfast. There was no doubt that she’d be valedictorian of the College of Business Administration. She studied hard, but she also played hard.

“Thisssisss my jaaaaammm.” Amren’s words slurred. She raised one of her hands as if meaning to touch the ceiling lamp like a fly attracted to a zapper light. Swaying to the rhythm, Amren praised the white light above.

“Oh, she is gone,” said Mor, taking a sip of her wine.

All eyes were on Amren now as she led an interpretive dance to the beat of Dance the Night by Dua Lipa. Her choreography involved a lot of hands swaying in the air. While her claps to the music were slightly off-beat, she was giving it her all. She was the choreographer—the lead dancer. She was Barbie at the giant blow art party and the rest of us were just Ken.

“Here’s another piece of Latin for you, Feyre. Nemo saltat sobrius,” said Mor, nodding at Dance and Flex Barbie™.

“What?” I asked. Clumsily leaning forward, I propped one hand on Rhy’s thigh as I leaned closer to Mor in hopes I could read her lips over the music. I felt a hand steady me from behind.

“Nobody dances sober,” said Azriel.

“Unless you’re Azriel, then you don’t dance. At all,” said Cassian. The couch bounced as he threw his body on the empty spot on the other side of me. He smiled at Azriel, threw his hand over the sofa's backrest, and leaned back.

“I’ve definitely seen him dance,” said Rhys.

“No way. In his room?” Cassian chuckled.

I took this as an opportunity to make myself more comfortable, while they were distracted. Shifting my body, I leaned further into Rhys, the shape of his own welcoming me back to my spot. A soft giggle escaped my lips as Cassian grabbed my feet and placed them on his lap. Somehow my body had slid down Rhys’s and I was fully lying across the sofa on top of the boys. I was comfortable. So comfortable, I could fall asleep.

“At a party, actually,” said Rhys, his eyes glanced at Azriel while a small smile edged on his face.

“With a girl?” Cassian’s voice sounded surprised.

“With a girl.” Rhys nodded.

“No fucking way,” said Cassian. He couldn’t help but smile at Az, his mouth gaped.

I understood Cassian’s reaction, Azriel didn’t dance let alone run or jog for anything. He was an enigma; an unsolvable riddle. The man was calm, cool, and collected at all times. Always unfazed by things that would distress the common Joe. It was slightly unnerving. If someone spilled wine on the carpet, Azriel wouldn’t panic at the thought of a huge red stain on the rug. He’d walk into the kitchen, no questions asked, and come back with a dry cloth, dish soap, and hydrogen peroxide, and blot the patch until it made you doubt if anything had actually been spilled. Whereas Mor and I would have stared at the ink-stained rug and exchanged wide-eyed looks before quietly agreeing that the room could do better without a rug.

Azriel shrugged completely unbothered.

“With wh-

“I don’t kiss and tell,” said Azriel. Cold eyes stared back, silently telling Cassian to back off without any need for words.

“You’re just jealous he didn’t kiss you,” said Rhysand. He was trying to diffuse any rising tension. I could feel the sound of his voice vibrating across his chest. At some point, I’d given him my glass of wine or he’d taken it from me very smoothly. It would have been a disaster if I’d spilled it over the three of us on the sofa. I would have felt especially bad about it considering it was new. Their last one had moved on to a better place after Cassian put a hole in it from jumping on it during a karaoke session two months ago.

“Hell yeah, I am!” Cassian exclaimed.

Azriel raised an eyebrow, a lopsided grin on his lips. "Are we about to kiss right now?"

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” said Rhysand.

“Come here, you,” said Cassian. Throwing my legs off him, he jumped across the room embracing Azriel. The room filled with laughter at the show the two of them were putting on. Even through the loud ruckus, the short-tempered finance major was far too deep into her slumber to awaken. At some point, Amren had tucked herself into the armchair by the window and nodded off. She looked cozy and peaceful with her head lying on the armrest. We’d learned long ago that it was best to leave her alone when she dozed off. A lesson learned the hard way.

Through the open doors leading to the balcony, the sky was briefly illuminated with a bright light followed by a faint sound of thunder. I glanced at the digital clock beneath the TV sitting on the television stand. It was late and I needed to get home. There was still a buzzing feeling that tingled across my body from the earlier drinks but I didn’t live far. It was ten minutes max walking. Plus, if I left now, I could avoid the rain.

Sitting up, I scanned the room looking for my shoes. “I should get going,” I said.

“Let me call you a ride,” said Mor, already taking out her phone.

“Mor, I live within walking distance,” I said, gathering my shoes.

Azriel jumped in, “I barely drank. All I had was a sip earlier. I could give you a ri-

He didn’t finish his sentence as his eyes glanced toward the other side of the room at the sound of boots hitting the hardwood and the sofa shuffling. I didn’t think too much about it, not that I could in my current state. I was more focused on figuring out where I’d placed the key to my apartment.

“Do you want us to walk with you?” asked Mor.

Holding on to the wall, I hooked two fingers into one of my white platform Nike and pushed my foot into the shoe. Was it counterintuitive to own sneakers with shoelaces if I never had any intention of tying them? I couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought as I did the same with my other shoe. It was unclear to me if I genuinely found the thought funny or if it was the alcohol coursing through me. Before I could respond to Mor’s question, I felt the close warmth of a tall figure standing near me.

“I’ll walk her,” said the familiar voice.

“Rhys-

“That wasn’t an offer, darling. That was me making a statement,” he said.

I sighed, looking up at him. It was late, and I didn’t feel like arguing knowing that it would delay my departure before the oncoming storm. Having someone walk you home wasn’t the end of the world. It was an act of the purest love. That someone cared about your well-being enough to ensure you’d made it home safely. That’s what I loved about my friends. The genuine love we all had for each other.

Sliding my baby blue nylon backpack over my shoulder, I double-checked I’d gathered everything. I went through my mental checklist. Phone, wallet, keys. Patting my pockets, I ensured I had them. I made sure to hug everyone goodbye before heading out. Well, everyone except Amren, who was ever so sweetly tucked in the armchair with a blanket twice her size. Likely one of Cassian’s massive blankets.

When I turned, Rhysand was already by the door holding it open for me. Slipping his hand over my shoulder, he grabbed my powder blue bag and placed it over his. With the motion, my white plush bear keychain swung against the two baby penguin pins on the cerulean fabric. My backpack had a very soft aesthetic that stood out when held by Rhys who was dressed in dark tones from head to toe. It didn’t fit his aesthetic. At all. I was about to object that I could carry my own bag but his voice interrupted my thoughts. “Don’t put the top lock on the door, I’ll be right back.”

As we headed out, the sky flashed again. The air felt cool against my skin and smelled like dew. It was a calming, fresh scent. It reminded me of potted flowers and succulents like the ones I had by the window in my room. The ones I always forgot to water but always survived, courtesy of one Elain Archeron. She knew I couldn’t keep anything alive, plant or fish, so she’d made sure to get me greenery that required minimal attention, which reminded me that I hadn’t watered them in a week. If it started pouring by the time I got home, I could stick them out the window and have them be watered au naturale.

I jumped at the sound of thunder and instinctively grabbed Rhys’s hand. His fingers wrapping around mine were warm and rough whereas mine were cold and soft. He squeezed my hand and held on to mine as we continued walking. “It caught me off guard.”

“Mmhm,” he said.

The wind picked up slightly as we headed down the illuminated path amongst the trees and apartment complex gardens that stretched across an open space. Rain was certainly on its way, it was just a matter of when. We likely had a couple of minutes before the downpour began. Thunder sounded all around us, and one, two droplets landed on my cheek. Damn. Other than being way off in my calculations, I’d also forgotten to borrow an umbrella before we left. There was no avoiding that we were going to be caught in this.

“I’m glad I grabbed this before we left,” said Rhys, opening an umbrella large enough to cover us both. At what point he’d grabbed the umbrella was beyond me. I stepped closer to him as he fumbled opening it. He gave it a slight jiggle with one hand that became more aggressive by the second as he attempted to push the sliding metal piece with his fingers. After about a minute, the section loosened up allowing for more movement. The issue now lay with the broken stretchers that were meant to hold the fabric.

“Who the hell leaves a broken umbrella in the umbrella stand?” said Rhys.

“Someone who forgot to throw it out?”

“That’s why trashcans exist,” he sighed. Rhys let go of my hand and continued fumbling with the umbrella trying to see if the pieces would lock into place. Thunder sounded above us and more drops of water began falling slowly picking up.

“If we pick up the pace, we can make it before it really hits,” said Rhys. His eyes surveyed mine and I could tell he was both disappointed and worried that he’d let me down somehow. But unless he was secretly in cahoots with Mother Nature, there was no way any of this could be his fault or something for him to blame himself for.

“I’m sorry about the weather,” said Rhys. The way he rubbed his neck and his brows drew together, I couldn’t bear the look of disappointment on his face for something out of his reach.

I shook my head and smiled up at him. “What are you sorry about? A broken umbrella that you had no idea was broken? The sky? Rhysand, unless you secretly own a weather machine, there’s nothing to be sorry about. Forget the umbrella.”

“In fact,” I continued, “I think this is an opportunity.”

I took my bag and the umbrella from his hands, chucked the latter in the nearest bin, and placed my bag on the ground.

“An opportunity?”

I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the moment, but I’d always wanted to dance in the rain like in movies and musicals. I felt bold and giddy at the idea of doing so now. All I could focus on was this tune from the third High School Musical installment. “Take my hand, take a breath.”

Standing in front of him, I stretched out my hand and offered it to Rhys. He looked puzzled but accepted my offer. “Pull me close, and take one step.”

“A song with instructions? I can follow that,” he said. A small smile formed on his lips.

“Keep your eyes locked on mine,” I continued.

His violet eyes twinkled beneath the moonlight and it almost looked like stars danced across his eyes as they softened, placing his other hand on my waist. He knew exactly what song I was referencing. After all, I’d made him watch it enough times with me. “And let the music be your guide.”

I nodded, cuing him to step with me. With his eyes wholly fixed on me, we slowly stepped into time, our shoes gently tapping against the pavement.

“Won't you promise me,” Rhys chimed.

Pulling me closer against his chest, Rhysand guided me across the makeshift dance floor—the walkway between the trees—with a step here and a half turn there. We were dancing through the gardens illuminated by the night sky and lamp posts down the pathway as we waltzed further in.

“Now won't you promise me, that you'll never forget.”

“We'll keep dancing,” added Rhys.

“To keep dancing.” A smile curved across my lips.

“Wherever we go next.” Our voices intertwined as we spun together, my hands held on to him tighter as the rain picked up. Swaying through the path of greenery, the scenery around us dissolved. It was just Rhys and I.

Thunder crashed above, and the true downpour began.

“It's like catching lightning the chances of finding someone like you,” we continued. I couldn’t help but smile brightly up at him as rain trailed down his face. The buzzing feeling from earlier that had coursed through my body now turned into a tingly feeling that reached from where Rhys was holding my hand—my fingers—to my chest. No, my body wasn’t buzzing, it was humming. We might have been dancing but I was floating in his embrace. I couldn’t look away from him.

With every lyric, raindrops painted our clothes a shade darker. My indigo cardigan was now inked navy as we swayed to the invisible music. My feet splashed against puddles, drenching my white shoes in rainwater. They’d likely be gray by the time I got home but that didn’t matter. As our feet shuffled across the pathway, the sky reflected itself over the water on the trail creating an illusion of stars beneath our feet. We were dancing among the stars.

We sang the rest of the song, never messing up the lyrics or missing a beat. We might have been recreating a moment by singing a song from one of my favorite films but this waltz was entirely made up by us. Rhys’s hand still grasping mine, spun me around as we brought the sound of the music in our chests to a slow end. His eyes were still on mine as we held our soaking bodies close. Was he always this beautiful?

I couldn’t help but marvel at his handsomeness and let an intrusive thought get the better of me as I ran my fingers across his cheek. He leaned into my warm touch, eyes softening. His eyes glanced from mine down to my lips. Please, I pleaded. I could feel my heart racing and my chest tightening at the thought of his lips on mine. Rhysand cleared his throat as his hands gently let go of mine, breaking the spell.

Taking a step back, he scanned me from head to toe and chuckled. “I bet we look like drowned rats to anyone looking out their windows.”

I shook my head, holding back a smile.

“I feel like one too,” I said. Looking down at my jeans, there was not a dry spot on them.

I bit the inside of my cheek. Had we just had a moment? I must have hallucinated it in the dark lighting. There was no way that Rhysand had looked like he’d wanted to kiss me two seconds ago. I wasn’t ignorant, I’d known Rhysand was objectively attractive. He had a strong jawline and he was fit from working out every week with Cassian and Azriel. He had nice cheekbones, luscious lashes, soft lips, and intelligent eyes. He was delightful to look at. He was…

Who was I kidding, he was handsome beyond compare. I just had never seen him in that way until now. Mother above, I was oblivious as they came. And I wished I could have blamed the alcohol for all of it—the way I was feeling, the thoughts I was having—but the truth was, I’d burned it out of my system with that dance.

‘We should get going,” said Rhys.

He grabbed my bag off the ground and we walked the rest of the way in awkward silence. I kept glancing sideways at him every so often. I’d definitely hallucinated that moment we’d had for a split second. The rest of the way to my place, I spent it looking at the ground contemplating while Rhysand stared at the stars as if searching for a cosmic answer.

By the time we made it to my place, we were full-on drenched. I was sure my hair looked like a wet mop attached to my head. I patted my pockets in search of the key and found it in the left back pocket of my jeans. They jingled in my hands as I fumbled looking for the right one.

“I hope you’re not planning to walk back in this. At least let me offer you a towel.” I glanced sideways as I turned the key.

He didn’t argue. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all. He’d stayed quiet and simply nodded as I led him in. With Viviane at her boyfriend’s for the weekend, there was no one home. All the lights were off as we walked in. I flipped the light switches as we stepped through the place in search of something dry. In the hallway closet, I found some towels for us. Meanwhile, I could hear Rhys in the kitchen opening and closing the cabinets.

As I turned the corner, I could see him pulling out two teabags from a box before his head turned in my direction. "I'll put the kettle on."

"So sweet of you, you're an angel," I said.

On top of being handsome, he was very thoughtful. Was I really falling for my best friend? I couldn’t help but keep my eyes locked on him as he turned on the stove and prepared tea for us. I bit my lower lip and turned towards the dryer that was hidden behind a sliding door. Neither of us was shivering or in any danger of getting frostbite, but a warm towel would certainly go well with tea. After a few minutes, the machine beeped just as the kettle began hissing. I pulled both towels out of the dryer and practically moaned at the warm touch against my skin.

“Would you like a dry towel?” I offered.

“You don’t want my wet handkerchief to dry your wet face?” He glanced sideways at me as he poured water into each cup with a smirk painted across his face.

I giggled and walked further into the kitchen. As soon as he placed the kettle back on the stove, I threw a towel over my shoulder and placed the other one on his head as he turned around to face me. I ran the towel over his head, drying his hair before sliding it over his shoulders and wrapping it around his body.

I looked up at him. “My hair is soaked, Rhys.”

The clothes we were wearing could have easily squeezed out two gallons of water. I could have probably fed my succulents with the amount of liquids soaked into our outfits. If I could have thrown myself in the dryer too, I would have knocked out two birds with one stone.

Standing in front of me, wrapped around in my towel, he looked adorable. Rhys’s eyes met mine and I could have sworn time stopped. All I could do was stare up at him. Oh gosh, was I staring? I blinked rapidly and dropped my gaze.

“You still look beautiful,” he said.

I felt my heart stop and my breath hitch. My hands stilled on his body still holding on to the light blue towel. Did he mean it in a friendly way? I glanced back up. His eyes peered down at me searching for something in mine. My lips parted as if to speak but I wasn’t sure what to say. Instead, I closed my mouth and swallowed.

“Feyre.”

The way he said my name made my heart skip. He took a step, closing the gap between us. My name sounded low like a prayer on his lips. If he was praying, then I wanted to bless him but I needed a sign. I wanted a clear sign that he wasn’t just whispering my name in an empty apartment for no reason.

“Why didn’t you kiss me earlier?” I half whispered.

His eyes glanced from my eyes to my mouth and back in a triangle manner. A small smile painted itself across his lips like a prayer answered. “You caught that.”

It wasn’t a question, he was making a statement.

“I wanted to be sure your head was clear when I kissed you,” said Rhysand.

“Rhys?”

“Yes?”

A pause.

“My head’s clear now,” I said.

Rhysand's head slowly leaned forward, stopping inches from my face, giving me time to take a step back if I wanted to back out. I didn’t. I wanted—needed, to know what his lips felt like on mine. If they were truly as soft as they looked. His fingers titled my chin up and kissed me. Gods, his kiss was more than soft, it was life-changing. His lips were gentle against mine, so sweet and delicately slow like he’d been waiting an eternity for this moment and now that he had it, now that the moment had arrived he wanted to savor it. If I’d been floating earlier when I danced with him beneath the rain, then I was soaring above the clouds and beyond the moon now.

His hands cupped my face as mine slid into his hair, pulling him closer by the neck. Neither one of us parted to take a breath. I could tell this wasn’t just any kiss, this was the kiss. The one that would change our lives—my life—forever. The kiss I’d compare any other to. I could feel his chest against mine as our legs brushed against each other. Rhysand's hands slowly slid down my shoulders and arms and made their way down and around my waist. We pulled each other closer, our bodies seeking contact where they could as we continued wrapping ourselves against each other. We were two colliding stars, bursting with sparks and ever-changing hues.

After what felt like forever, I pulled back slightly, eyes closed. Blood had rushed into my cheeks, and there was no doubt that the heat against my flushed face had painted them rosy. I could feel his head leaning against mine, both of us breathless. Mother above, I truly was oblivious to everything. That definitely wasn’t a friend kiss. That was an I-want-to-be-more-than-friends kiss.

Rhysand’s hand came up against my face tucking strands of semi-wet hair behind my ear. It felt like he was looking at me for the first time or trying to memorize every freckle on my face. A beat passed and he broke the silence. “I think I’m falling in love with you. I think I have been for a while.”

My heart skipped at those words—at his confession. My mouth gaped. There were no words. I wasn’t sure what to say. All I could focus on was the rising and beating in my chest as I focused on taking the next breath. Had this really just happened? Had we truly just kissed? Did he just say that he—

“I’m hoping you didn’t just kiss me to then break my heart, Feyre, darling.” He cupped my face as he spoke the last two words.

“I never knew you liked me,” I said, stumbling on the words.

“Now you do. And correction, I said I love you.” The corners of Rhysand’s mouth turned up. I couldn’t help the way my eyes widened in disbelief. He’d said the words again.

“You love me?”

Rhys chuckled as he shook his head. He lifted my head with a hand beneath my chin as if inspecting me. “Did you hit yourself with the dryer door? Do I need to kiss you again? Or maybe hold your hand as we walk through a storm? Or dance in the rain while quoting your favorite movie?”

He loved me. He loved me, and he not only meant it with the words he’d spoken, but Rhys had demonstrated and proved time and time again that he truly meant it, body and soul. A man who could talk the talk and walk the walk. Dare I say, he was a man after my own heart.

“If you let me, I promise I’ll spend every day making sure you never doubt how worthy of love you are,” said Rhys. The back of his hand caressed my cheek.

“I’ll do anything with you, Rhys. As long as it’s you,” I said.

His lips met mine again, this time with more passion and intensity. Wrapping my hands around his neck once more, I felt the towel slide off his shoulders and plop to the ground. Rhys's hands traveled around my hips, to the back of my thighs before he lifted me into his arms. Instinctually, I wrapped my legs around him and deepened our kiss. I wanted him closer. I wanted his body against mine without the barriers of our wet clothes.

As if he’d read my thoughts, I could feel us moving down the hallway to my room. Every kiss turned deeper than the last and I knew I couldn’t deny myself the truth. I was completely and utterly in love with him. And I was a fool for not noticing before that maybe I had loved him longer than my body knew. Longer than I truly knew. He was my safe space, my person, my best friend. He was everything I could want in a man. He was everything. Rhys was everything.

Gently laying me against my bed, he pulled back slightly to look down at me. His eyes were like lilac-blue stars glistening against the moonlight as he marveled at me. It was almost like he couldn’t believe that this was real. I placed my hand on his cheek, rubbing my thumb. His lips smiled against my warm touch.

“I can’t stop smiling when I look at you,” said Rhys.

He gazed at me like a painter setting eyes on their muse. Like he’d been seeking inspiration his entire life and now he’d found it. Rhys shook his head in disbelief. “How did this happen?”

The question wasn’t for me to answer, it was rhetorical. He was speaking his thoughts aloud as if waiting for a cosmic answer to shine through the window. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Feyre.

“When I wake up, when I’m about to fall asleep, even in my dreams I can never stop thinking of you. When you’re not with me, it feels like something is missing. And, gosh, I hate poetry, but when I think of you…I can’t help but imagine that this is what the greats write about. This feeling. It’s like poets are reciting their writings in my head.”

I could feel the corners of my eyes becoming damp. I could spend the rest of this night in his arms simply admiring him. His honest eyes were full of more unspoken words of love. I could feel the wetness of my clothes seeping into the blanket below but I didn’t care. I thumbed his lips, his Apollo’s arched bow, memorizing this moment. I could feel my shaky voice escaping me as I spoke.

“All these years, I thought we were just friends, and I was okay with that…but now I realize that maybe I’ve felt like this for a while about you. That I’ve loved you without knowing that this is what it was.”

“You love me?” A smile spread across his lips.

“Did you hit yourself with the door coming in? Or do I need to kiss you again?” I mimicked his earlier question.

He gently rubbed his nose against mine, his lips inches from my own.

“Kiss me again,” he whispered.

I moaned against his lips this time. I wanted him to hold me, to touch me, to kiss me, to say my name. I wanted everything and more. We tugged against wet clothes, which were much harder to take off thanks to their added weight. They stuck to our bodies and made it difficult to slide out of them. But we didn’t care. We kissed and laughed our way out of the heavy wet clothing until we were skin to skin. Until we were finally warm in each other's embrace. And for the first time in a while, I prayed.

Rhys.

I prayed the rest of the night as his body melded against mine, pulling prayer after prayer from my lips. His name, the only one I wanted to whisper against the moonlight shining through my window. It was only our names echoing from the other’s lips against soft I love yous with every touch and shift against hips. We were dancing like stars in the night sky, and holding on to each other as if we’d collided into one. Our whispers and sighs grew more uneven. He was my gravity, my center, and I was his. With Rhys’s eyes on mine and a final waltz around the universe, I felt my world burst like a nuclear fission. Like a star reaching its last evolutionary stage.

Rhys kissed me again, softer this time, and wrapped me in his arms as we lay beneath the comfort of warm blankets, tangled in each other. Pulling me against his chest, he whispered. "Did you know that rainy day cuddles are two times more effective than sunny day cuddles?"

“Don’t you have to tell Cas to lock the door for you,” I said.

“That can wait,” said Rhys, kissing the top of my head.

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misschanadlerbong · 2 years ago

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Chapter 12 - Let's Kick Some Ass

Summary: Charlie struggles to propose a promposal to Alex, while Y/N struggles to prove her worth yet again in the team.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault.

Genre: Fluff, Clay x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

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Your last couple of weeks were pretty hard but finally, you gathered up all the courage to tell people what Bryce had done with you. You told your parents the night Clay came to visit you and gratefully your parents were incredibly supportive. They did not overreact at all and acted rationally with the situation. Though it was hard to control the testosterone energy of the group.

Everyone was filled with rage, but you never wanted to fight with violence, you complained about Bryce to the Principal, and he was given suspension and a probation order from the police. Days passed eventually and every day felt a little better and with Clay, by your side, you had a sense of relief.

You were back to practice and now all you focused on was the finals of the Basketball Tournament which was being hosted by your school this was the first time your school qualified for finals and providing the fact that this was the last game you will play with the team made it more important.

You reached school, today was important because it was the game night and you agreed to help Charlie with his plan of asking out Alex for the prom. Charlie had an overly sweet and romantic plan, he decorated the main hallway and Jessica, and you were supposed to hold a huge banner written “PROM?” on it, Charlie stood beside the banner with Alex’s favorite flowers in his hands.

Alex entered the hallway and gave an opposite reaction to what you guys were expecting, all you got from him was a sigh of disappointment. Alex was never a fan of cheesy romance but Charlie on the other hand was the king of cheesy romance.

“Oh, Alex! Enough with your tantrums, just say ‘yes’ already. If you don’t go, I will go with him” you say to Alex.

Alex chuckles and walks up to Charlie and says “If I will not go with you then with whom will I go, Charlie? You did not have to do all this. It is obvious that if I go, you will be my date.”

Charlie was still not satisfied and said “You did not answer my question. So, Alexander Dean Standall, will you be my date to the senior prom?”

“You’re lucky you’re adorable otherwise I would have dumped you a long time back, and Yes Charles Hayden Brixton St. George it would be an honor to be your date.” Charlie started deep into Alex’s eyes and gave him a sweet passionate kiss.

The school air was filled with promposals, and every room and every corridor was full of red roses and confetti.

“It sucks to see all these people happy when your boyfriend has not even asked you about prom yet,” said Jessica.

“He hasn’t yet? But aren’t you guys dating for like a couple of years now? Isn’t it obvious?” you asked.

“But still you know.”

You could hear the frustration in her voice. Making Jessica mad is one of the many things that you should never do in your life. To calm her down you said, “If Justin doesn’t ask then I’ll go with you because Nerd hasn’t asked me yet too.”

“Yes, screw the boys, they are of no use”.

After your fourth period, you were supposed to go to the gym and get ready for the game tonight. Before going you met Clay to see him for the last time before the evening.

“Sup Nerd?”

“Hey, you look pretty happy. Excited about the game?”

“Yeah, more like nervous but yeah excited too. Anyways I’ll go for the practice so see you at the game?”

“My fifth is free so I can hang around longer.”

“Good, you can help me stretch” you winked at him.

“Nah, you can do it. If a coach sees me then he will make me exercise too.”

“Okay then, I’ll just ask Zach to help.” You say teasing him and starting to walk away.

“No Y/N wait, I’ll be there. I will just keep my stuff in the locker, okay?”

You smile at his innocence and proceed toward the gym. When you enter the gym, you see Justin standing beside one of the machines. You walk up to him and say, “Hey Justy, we have a problem.”

“What? What is it Y/N?”

“You have not asked your girlfriend yet to be your date to the senior prom.”

“Holy shit, just tell the coach I’ll be right back” While saying this Justin ran out of the gym as fast as he could panicking. That was the effect Jessica had on him. As the gym was almost empty you hear your coach and principal having a conversation in the coach’s office. You go there and knock on the door.

“Y/N, good you are here. We want your opinion on something.” Said the Coach.

“Yes sir, what is it?”

“Umm, Principal thinks that we should not let play Bryce today’s game. I know it is not easy for you to play with him, but still, what do you think?”

You turn to the principal and say “Uh sir, Coach is right. Whatever he did to me shall not come in between the game we are going to play. We cannot let it ignore the fact that he is one of the best players we have on the team that can guarantee a win. I think we should let him play, otherwise sir, it is your call.”

Principal Bolan was convinced by your point, and it was true that above everything it was more important to win the trophy for the school.

The decisive moment arrived. All the Liberty Tigers gathered in the locker room and Justin gave a pre-match motivating speech as his duty as the captain. Everyone was filled with a desire to win the goddamn match and show the opposite team who the Liberty Tigers are. The cheerleading squad did their segment before the game began.

After that, both the teams entered the basketball court to start the battle. You found it hard to admit but the other team was playing too well which made the chance of the Liberty Tigers winning less.

As you looked at the crowd who came to watch the game, you caught Clay’s eyes which were gleaming at you. He raised both his thumbs to cheer you up and you turned your focus back to the game after a five-minute break.

While Clay was attentively watching the game Tyler approached him with the camera. He was taking pictures for the yearbook and went up to Clay to say ‘hi.’

“Clay! Hi! Since when you started liking sports?”

“Oh, hey Tyler. Uh I am here for Y/N”.

“Yeah, I get it. She is pretty hot, isn’t she? And when she plays”

“Um, bro she is my girlfriend.”

There was an awkward silence between the two, but Tyler had to make it worse and asked with disbelief “Really?” Clay simply nodded to Tyler’s question and Tyler shrugged and went to a different location to take pictures.

It was halftime and the score was 20-15 and your team was losing. Everybody went inside the locker room to cool themselves down and discuss the strategy for the other half of the game. Justin was going to give another speech, but you cut him off by saying “Justin, can I take this?” Justin nodded in trust, and he let you speak.

“Guys, many of you think I do not belong on this team. But today the game is not about me or you or the school. It is about the fact that this is our last game together before we graduate. Now, will it not be better if we win that goddamn trophy in our last game rather than losing to some private school that think they are better than everyone. So, let us play. Let us play for that sportsmen spirit inside us which will not take losing as an option.” You stretched out your hand and made eye contact with Zach “So...”

Zach cut you off, said, “Whatever it takes?” and put his hand on your hand.

“No, let’s kick some ass”.

Everyone held hands and unity and said in unison, “Let’s kick some ass.”

Everyone went back to the court filled with new energy and you did kick all the asses. Your team won by 35-28. In excitement, the whole team lifted you on their shoulders as you were the lightest and made a round of the whole court. Principal Bolan announced the winner and handed over the trophy to the team. After giving his speech of gratitude you asked him for the mic.

The audience was still cheering as you said “Thank you all for your support, now I wanted to say something. This guy in this crowd is supposed to be my boyfriend and hasn’t asked me to the prom yet. So, I thought why not make this big gesture and ask him myself.” The crowd started cheering with anticipation. Hearing this Clay was both embarrassed and confused. You continued “So Nerd, would you like to be my date to the prom?”

Clay climbed down from the audience stand and started walking towards you. You gave the mic to Justin and ran towards him. You looked at him with hope in your eyes. He held your hands and said, “Yes Y/N I’ll go with you to the prom.” He kissed your forehead, and you hugged him with excitement. While you hugged him you realized that he was not hugging you back. You said, “Clay, you should hug me back otherwise it will be very awkward.”

Clay struggled to speak “Yeah, I will if you leave my hands free.” You let go of him you both laughed at your stupidity. Clay hugged you firmly and the entire crowd started cheering for your courage.

Shower your love by liking and commenting on the post. Refrain from copying, plagiarism, or posting on any other platform.

THANK YOU!!!

P.S.: I also upload on Wattpad @immafreakingmoonstone, feel free to check out my account :)

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bobbybutterfly · 1 year ago

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A Squirrel and Hedgehog OC. OoooooOOOooo. I was about to say it’s my second one (I’ve got a squirrel I never posted about before) but then I remembered Geumseagi’s dad. I think we could also have a philosophical discussion about how many head cannons can you lump up on a character before they become an OC. I imagine it’s when you change the character’s name. That’s just the last straw.

Changing up pre existing characters is a skill I learned from writing real people fan fiction. By the time you’re done writing your femboy pagan priest turned an immortal 20 something sparking dictator after the film market collapsed with the rise of AI, people will scratch their heads as to how this character ever started life as Tom Hanks. But most importantly you don’t get sued!

By the way this was an actual character I made. I never put out the unfinished book on the internet outside of one chapter on AO3. I was getting tired of working on it for I think over 2 years with no results.

This character though is original in that they’re not inspired by any character from Squirrel and Hedgehog specifically. I will talk about my inspiration for them later.

So. Their name is Shiho Tenshi as you can see. It means white angel. Originally they were supposed to be called Shiho Akuma, meaning white devil But it didn’t make sense to me that they would be called that by the weasels. They’re a war hero to them after all. Probably the Flower Hill animals would call them whatever the Korean translation of white devil is. Hayan Agma. Language is something that goes unaddressed in the series. It’s an idea I want to incorporate into my AU. Primary example being that the weasels kept Mulmangcho around as a translator.

Shiho Tenshi isn’t their real name. No one knows their “real name”. I should also mention that they’re gender fluid and use they/them pronouns. Also also they’re a white weasel if you didn’t notice. Growing up they were a poor orphan on the streets. They learned very quickly that by changing up how they behave and look they were gendered differently. Seeing their love for performance a traveling acting troupe took them in. They would preform for soldiers at military bases. Providing cheap entertainment.

One day though the base they’re performing at gets attacked. Using their sword skills they heroically defend the base earning them a place in the military. They rarely use guns or martial art. Preferring their elegant silver sword. The military allows it as it makes for some good propaganda posters. They absolutely despise all Flower Hill animals. Appearing ruthless and brutal. The peak of military masculinity. But when it comes to weasels and surprisingly mice they are kind almost motherly and willing to sacrifice themselves whenever it comes to it. They like mice because the acting troupe was primarily mice.

What do you think? I wanted to play with gender roles when it came to them. My main inspiration was Hoshiko Kawasima. They are a very interesting World War 2 queer historical figure. I would recommend checking them out. Then the character Lady Oscar from the manga Rose of Versailles. They were totally based off of Kawasima. There’s too many coincidences! Lastly their whole acting part was based off of the Takarazuka Revue. It’s an all female acting troupe in Japan. They’re really cool.

This picture was based off of a promotional image of Lady Oscar for their performance of Rose of Versailles. The background inspiration was from @32girassoisdevangogh I am trying to go more abstract graphic design for backgrounds of character art. Mainly because I’m just too tired after 5 hours of rendering. So prepare yourselves for more comic sands and pixelated images of puppies and kittens because graphic design is my passion as you can see from my tumblr banner!

I’m not really sure what I’m going to do with this character. They’re not going to be included in my Super Secret Project. Maybe I can write a short story about them or roleplay. We will see.

Bobby out!

#my art #digital art #fanart #squirrel and hedgehog #furry art #digital painting #procreate

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kazscrows · 2 years ago

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Six of Crows Reread 🪶

Chapter 39: Inej

Inej’s heart careened against her ribs. On the aerial swings, there was a moment when you let go of one and reached for the next, when you realised you’d made a mistake and you no longer felt weightless, when you simply started to fall…

She’s getting dragged back into the prison…

Oh no oh no oh n—

Yeah Inej! Break that guys nose!!

And yay Jesper and Wylan!

It was all part of the plan

Sort of…

Jesper snatched the choker from Inej’s hand, mouth agape. “Kaz said we needed a diamond. He didn’t tell you to steal Heleen Van Houden’s diamonds!”

Oh lmao I forgot Heleen had a last name

There were plenty of other diamonds she could have stolen for their purposes and other trouble she could have made to attract the guards’ attention. But it was Heleen she’d wanted to dupe. For all the secrets she’d gathered and documents she’d stolen and violence she’d done, it was Heleen Van Houden she’d needed to best.

I still can’t believe they just killed Heleen off in the show like.. what the heck??

Inej needs to be the one to best this awful woman—

During the scuffle in the rotunda, Inej had made sure that she was too focused on being choked to worry about being robbed.

Inej your Kaz-ness is showing

The best way to steal a man’s wallet is to tell him you’re stealing his watch

The best way to rob Heleen is to try choking her to death—

“Hurry,” Inej said.

“Saying that doesn’t actually make me work faster,” Jesper complained as he concentrated on the stones. “If I just break them down, they’ll lose their molecular structure. They have to be cut, carefully, the edges assembled into a single perfect drill bit. I don’t have the training—”

“Whose fault is that?” put in Wylan, not looking up from his own work.

“Again, not helpful.”

Lmao poor Jes getting bossed around and bullied

Jesper, Wylan and Inej might actually be the most chaotic trio of the bunch

Just. Constant Panic!

So much screaming

Then she was running, her feet light, her silks like feathers. In this moment she didn’t mind them. She’d duped Heleen Van Houden. She’d taken a little piece of her away, a silly symbol, but one she prized. It wasn’t enough – it would never be enough – but it was a beginning. There would be other bawds to trick, slavers to fool. Her silks were feathers, and she was free.

So so proud of her

It was an impossible leap, a mad leap, but she was once again her father’s daughter, unbound by the rules of gravity.

And you know what?

She succeeds

She doesn’t fall, she flys-

Every time Inej thinks about her dad I’m so soft-

Ajzxbnxdsafh

I’m giddy-

Here comes the tank scene—

Inej figures out the guns so fast!

“Prettier than diamonds” Inej thinks as she shatters a massive glass wall with essentially a missile

Destruction is a love language

Inej heard footsteps and clanging as Jesper and Wylan climbed onto the tank. Jesper’s head appeared, hanging down from the dome. “You letting me drive?”

The image of Jesper poking his head in and hanging upside down is really funny to me

I should draw it

Also question-

Would Jesper be good or bad at driving a car?

Does the grishaverse have cars?

“Oh, hello, darling,” he said happily. He pulled another lever, and the armoured wagon seemed to shudder to life around them, belching black smoke. What kind of monster is this? Inej wondered.

“That noise!” she cried.

“That engine!” cackled Jesper.

He’s in love

Wylan has competition

Wylan had scratches from the glass all over his cheeks and neck. He was beaming.

Jesper has introduced him to the thrill of danger and violence—

Wylan clutched his middle, still snorting laughter, and pointed downwards. Trailing behind them was a banner, caught in the tank’s treads. Despite the smears of mud and gunpowder burns, Inej could still make out the words: STRYMAKTFJERDAN. Fjerdan might.

Absolute legends

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#technically it’s still the same day for ten more minutes so I didn’t lie about when I’d post this-#inej ghafa #six of crows #shadow and bone #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone season 2 #grishaverse #reading #books #leigh bardugo #kazscrows #kazscrowsreadssoc

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bouwrites · 2 years ago

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Those Warm and Halcyon Days: Chapter 58

Blood of the Eagle and Lion

Ao3.

First, Previous, Next.

Story under read-more.

Veery doesn’t expect Claude to be happy when he and Lysithea give their report on what happens in Ordelia territory with Dimitri. And he is not. Every new word that comes from Lysithea’s lips makes Claude’s scowl deepen until he lands on a face that Veery doesn’t think he ever sees on Claude before.

When all is said, Claude takes a long, slow, deep breath. “I heard from Judith about a group flying House Blaiddyd’s banner, but… damn it. If we could have gotten Dimitri on our side…”

“He’s unstable,” Lysithea says flatly, no happier to say it than anyone else present is to hear it. “I’m sorry, Claude. I would have liked to bring them here, too, but I had to make a call, and I have to put this campaign first.”

“No,” Claude sighs, “I understand. I’m not angry with you. Either of you. I’m just… I just wish the news weren’t so dire.”

“He needs help,” Professor Byleth says. Her jaw is tense, lips drawn into a firm line. She’s angry. Veery grabs his tail and sinks a little into himself. “We can help him. You should have brought him here, not left him alone.”

“With all due respect, Teach,” Lysithea says, head likewise lowered, “we’re at war. We can’t afford that kind of unnecessary risk. Especially not at such a critical moment in our campaign.” She hugs herself for a moment, then quietly adds, “I want him to be okay, too, but you’re letting your emotions cloud your judgement.”

“It’s not the choice you would have made, Teach,” Claude says diplomatically. “Honestly, I’m not even sure it’s the choice I would have made. But it’s been done, and they didn’t completely abandon him. They left him with Ingrid, Felix, and Sir Gilbert, and did all they could to help Dimitri get better. For now, all we can do is believe in Ingrid and the others and trust that they’ll manage to reach Dimitri before they do anything stupid.”

Professor Byleth frowns at the map on the table between them. As her hair falls to shroud her eyes, she says, “We’ll be seeing him soon, anyway. I’ll save him then.”

Claude eyes the map, too. “At Gronder Field, you mean? …Yes, that seems likely. Even if they’re crossing the Airmid in Ordelia, if they want to reach Enbarr to get at Edelgard, the easiest way would be to come back this way. Besides, a massive army is gathering at Fort Merceus, possibly led by Edelgard herself. If they hear wind of that, there’s almost no doubt at all that we’ll see Dimitri at Gronder Field when we engage the Empire.”

Veery hopes not. Claude and Professor Byleth are absolutely right, of course, but Veery still hopes not. Even if Dimitri does start listening to his friends over the voices in his head after their meeting, he cannot be nearly well enough to throw himself into battle again.

Warring, especially in a battle like what they’re expecting, especially when the object of his obsession may be present and within reach, will only worsen his condition. For Dimitri’s sake, Veery hopes vainly that he will grow sense and retire from the war, at least for now.

“That’s a few days out yet, though. While we wait for the last of our reinforcements, Lysithea, Veery, you’re dismissed. If you want to help draw battle plans, you’re welcome to, but otherwise rest up. Once we begin, we won’t have much opportunity to rest until we take Fort Merceus.”

“I’ll help,” Lysithea says. “We spent nearly this whole month at rest already.”

“That’s clearly a lie,” Veery groans. “You spent all month organizing spies and fretting over the next battles.”

“True, but I did so under no serious pressure. Remember, us humans are used to sleeping through the night and working all day. Just because I’m not napping doesn’t mean I’m not rested.”

Veery goes to retort but then realizes that he does sometimes forget that. He knows it consciously, of course, but still when he sees Lysithea regularly working before he settles down to nap and working when he wakes up and he starts growing concerned.

But if Lysithea says so…

Claude laughs at him, understanding the mistake, but Veery tries to ignore him. He shakes his head and says, “Well, I’m going to take a nap. See you later.”

He’ll leave the planning to Claude, Teach, and Lysithea. They’re good at that, anyway.

Only a few days later, the time for battle has come.

The army is gathered on the Empire side of the Great Bridge of Myrddin, organized, and given their orders. Then, they march.

It’s not far to Gronder Field, where they expect the Empire to meet them. In fact, it’s so close that, when they set off, Veery is frowning at the sky, anticipating what is to come. This fog will make fighting more difficult. If they don’t find Dimitri before it starts, there’s a good chance the limited visibility will lead to a few skirmishes between Faerghus and the resistance in the midst of the fighting. Everyone is briefed, of course, so that kind of situation will hopefully be avoided, but Chaos is powerful.

On the bright side, it will allow them to move their army closer to Gronder Field without giving away that now is the time of invasion. Edelgard is already preparing her massive army to meet them, but the timing can still be advantageous. Or, that’s what Claude says, anyway.

Speaking of Claude, he’s quiet ever since hearing about Dimitri. Professor Byleth doesn’t speak much, usually, if she has nothing to say, but she hardly looks at Veery or Lysithea since their report. It feels very much like they’re being chastised, even though she is not actually saying anything.

Because of that, and because of their previous venture to Ordelia together, Lysithea continues to spend a lot of time with Veery. They continue their work in Ordelia, attempting to decipher anything they can on Crests, Crest Stones, the effects they have on the body, and the Agarthans as a whole. Between that, training, and resting, they have quite busy schedules.

And they don’t have to deal with Claude and Professor Byleth’s disappointment. It’s easier to focus on work than it is to watch their leaders struggle to try to find a way to get Dimitri on their side, when it’s them who push Dimitri away to begin with.

But Veery stands by his decision, as does Lysithea. He thinks, perhaps, they could have found a better way to test it, admittedly, but he is firm in his belief that Dimitri is too dangerous and should not be accepted into this resistance force.

The few days between their report and the start of their march feels like years, and Veery knows there’s a schism here now. It hurts almost as much as he expects, but marching to battle is not the proper time to linger on this fracture.

It’s not hostile, at least, but it is quiet. Ordinarily, Veery appreciates the quiet, but from Claude – when Veery knows the quiet is because Claude doesn’t quite know what to say beyond what’s relevant to the war – it feels exceptionally lonely.

Lysithea doesn’t say it aloud – that she feels the same way – but she shrinks into herself as well, and sticks close to Veery’s side. He doesn’t complain because he feels a little better to be alongside the one other person in the same situation right now.

“Lysithea, Veery,” Claude calls to them as they walk. They slow to match his pace and ask what he needs. Claude frowns, eyeing them both with… something far off before he shakes the expression away and gets down to business. “I don’t like this fog. It reminds me too much of Magdred Way five years ago.”

“The Gaspard Rebellion?” Lysithea hums. “No, I don’t believe so. This fog feels natural, and it’s the right season to find it in this area.”

“I think so too,” Veery says. “Active magic like that makes my skin crawl. And it’s still early morning. It’ll probably burn way by the afternoon.”

Claude runs a hand through his hair. “I guess I’m just being paranoid. If that’s the case, though, our enemies are subject to the same conditions. Once we get into place, we’ll just have to wait for the fog to clear up.”

“With everything shrouded by fog until the moment we start,” Lysithea says, “it’s hard to predict this fight. There’s no way to know what will happen.”

“There never is,” Veery says. “Just stay calm and survive.”

“Of course,” Claude says. “Always.”

They walk in silence – awkward silence, which makes Veery shuffle anxiously, wanting to just step away but not wanting to be obvious about it. Only after some time of this does Claude audibly sigh and purposefully slow down himself, quickly dropping back away from Veery and Lysithea.

Veery shares an understanding look with Lysithea, brows furrowed as they cast surreptitious glances back to Claude and, joining him, Professor Byleth. (She does not even try to approach while Claude is still near Veery, he notices, and that is a knife to his heart.)

Neither Veery nor Lysithea utter a word.

Everyone is in position. With Edelgard no doubt already perched on the hill and holding the southwest towards Merceus and Enbarr, Dimitri possibly approaching from the east, and Claude commanding their own forces approaching from the north, Veery can’t help but be reminded that these are the same positions they fought in years ago during the Battle of the Eagle and Lion.

Of course, Veery was not a part of that battle. He was in the healing tent. Or, outside of it, anyway. Funny how that works – he seriously doubts anyone here today would refuse healing from him just because he’s inhuman.

And he remembers talking to Dimitri that day. The Blue Lions were the first to be defeated, and Dimitri refused to enter the healing tent, instead insisting on Veery tending to him despite his lack of experience, all because he was offended for Veery, unable to suffer the injustice of prejudice. Ironically, at the time, Veery didn’t even think twice about it.

And now, what are they fighting for? Veery, to protect a land that is not his home, all for a hope of one day building an Arcadia where that prejudice which Dimitri cannot accept no longer exists, and Dimitri… for what?

Maybe Veery really does make a mistake. Waning nostalgic like this, remembering the Dimitri of their academy days, tugs at the heavy, hanging doubt in Veery’s chest. Dimitri is one of the people who protected Veery, back when Veery was too new, too unfamiliar, and too scared to protect himself from what he viewed as inevitable.

It’s not inevitable for Dimitri. That’s why it outrages him. That injustice is something he can’t let stand, and he protests it because he is capable of imagining a world without it. And that’s good, until it leads him to where he is today.

“The fog isn’t clearing up…” Caub murmurs, gaze so far into the thick blanket around them that he cannot possibly hope to see anything. “How’s your nose working?”

Veery hums and tests it, even though he knows already how useful it will be. “No good,” he says. “Too wet.”

Caub stands by Veery’s side. “Are you worried about Dimitri?”

Veery cringes, and the thick fog weighs heavier on his lungs. “I’m just… reminiscing.”

Caub hums gently. “That’s right, all of your academy houses had a battle here once, didn’t you? Leonie mentioned it. It sounded like it was kind of a big deal.”

“The biggest mock battle of a student’s academy days,” Veery says. “Winning is apparently very prestigious, or something. I don’t know; the competition never made sense to me.”

“Of course, it doesn’t,” Caub chuckles. “I get it, though. You know I can be competitive sometimes. How’d you do, back then?”

Veery takes hold of his tail in both hands. “I didn’t fight. I wasn’t technically enrolled, so I was hired as an assistant healer. But the Golden Deer won.” It was close, though, if Veery’s memory is correct.

After a short moment of quiet, Caub tosses one arm over Veery’s shoulders and squeezes him gently. “Veery…” He sighs, then switches to Albinean, for the sake of the soldiers close enough to overhear. “I know what’s really bothering you. And it’s going to be okay. Trust me, every time you’re together with Claude, I’m jealous of how much you trust each other.”

Trust. Veery laughs hollowly. “But did I just break that trust?”

“Why would it? You did what you thought was best for this army. Claude knows better than anyone that- that sometimes, you have to make sacrifices. He’s in charge of this whole thing. I’m sure he’s been making hard decisions that we haven’t even thought of.

“And he trusts your judgement. With Lysithea backing you up, that’s doubly true. He’s upset because Dimitri is his friend. He doesn’t know what to say because he’s conflicted. He wants Dimitri with him, but he knows you’re right. But he’s not angry at you, and you didn’t break his trust. You just made a decision he’s not sure he would have agreed with, and Claude, of all people, would not lose trust in you just because you disagree.” Caub gently nudges the edge of Veery’s lips with a knuckle. “Smile. Give him time and he’ll be begging to nap in your fur again.”

Veery does smile. “Maybe. But… What about Teach?”

Even Caub’s smile drops. “Honestly… I can’t read her at all. I don’t know a thing about her. But what I do know is that you’re precious to her. You’re as precious to her as you are to me, and so I know that she won’t stay mad at you – if she even is. She may just be angry with the situation, not at you in particular.”

“It feels like she’s mad at me. Or… maybe worse. Disappointed.”

“Teachers are like that,” Caub grins. “I mixed up some herbs once and accidentally ended up ruining Yrsa’s whole stock. You won’t believe how bad that woman can make you feel with just a look. I swear it’s magic.”

Despite it all, Caub drags another smile out of Veery. “It is something like that, huh?”

“And who knows,” Caub says. “Maybe, if we see Dimitri today, he’ll be a little better. It’s not too late to ally wit-”

A commotion interrupts Caub, snapping both of their attentions to the source of the noise. They’re far enough away that the fog blocks any visual, but it doesn’t take long to rectify that.

“Calm down, Dimitri!” A familiar voice shouts. “What does it achieve, us killing each other here?”

Shit. Veery gets just close enough to see Areadbhar’s sinister glow when he hears Dimitri’s response. “Move, Claude. I have no time to exchange words with you.”

“Don’t fight us, Dimitri,” Professor Byleth says calmly. “Wait with us until the fog clears, then we can fight Edelgard together.”

Dimitri scoffs and does not lower Areadbhar. “If you wish for her head, too, then join the fight. But I will not wait for you.” His eye turns to Veery, emerging from the fog, and Caub at Veery’s side. “You!” Dimitri roars. “What did you do? Where is Father? Where is Glenn?”

Surprisingly, despite the pained fury in his voice, Dimitri doesn’t move to approach or attack.

Caub gapes for just a moment before collecting himself. “I helped you see the proper place of things for a while. That’s all.”

Something unreadable writes itself across Dimitri’s face. “…Will they return?”

“Without continued treatments? Yes.”

Dimitri lowers Areadbhar, leaning on it like a walking stick. His eye stares into the distance at nothing. “…I have not been able to think this clearly in a long time… This silence…”

“It’s okay, Dimitri,” Claude says gently. “You don’t have to carry that weight anymore. We can help you.”

“Please, Your Highness,” Ingrid, who Veery barely noticed standing next to Felix and Sir Gilbert, “listen to him. We can fight the Empire together.”

“I…” Dimitri shakes his head like a dog. “No… This is mine to bear. Even if the dead have no will… I will be their will for them. I chose this path – not Father, not Glenn, not Stepmother… Even if they cannot speak to me any longer, my path remains the same.”

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” Felix groans. With a glance to Veery and Caub, he says, “We tried. Thought we were getting somewhere for a moment. Then he heard Edelgard might be here at this battle and it all just fell apart.”

“If you all wish to hide like cowards in this fog, then hide. I will hunt,” Dimitri growls, already picking himself up to continue stalking towards Gronder Field.

“You only have to wait a few hours at most.” Claude protests. Only his agility and grace keep him from tripping over himself trying to keep up with Dimitri. “But going alone is suicide.”

“I will not fall,” Dimitri says. “Not until her head is removed from her shoulders.”

“Be realistic, Dimitri,” Professor Byleth pleads. “You cannot fight this large of a force on your own. Even with the Sword of the Creator, I couldn’t hope to do this by myself.”

“The time for waiting is over. Edelgard is too close. If you mean to stop me, I’ll kill you, too.”

Professor Byleth stops dead in her tracks, looking completely heartbroken as Dimitri trudges on beyond her. “Dimitri…”

“What now?” Felix sighs. “I’m not following him to my death. If he can’t be stopped, I’ll break off here, join the resistance army instead.”

“Felix!” Ingrid protests. “We cannot abandon His Highness! Even if it means dying for him.”

Sir Gilbert, slower than the rest, catches up with them and quickly assesses the situation. “Byleth, Claude… I hesitate to ask something so significant of you, but…”

“You want us to strike now,” Claude says grimly. “Dimitri… it seems like he’s at least aware enough that he won’t kill us if we join the battle alongside him. Still, that’s a huge risk, and the fog…”

“I understand if I am asking too much of you,” Sir Gilbert says. “But for His Highness’ sake, I must.”

“Let’s do it,” Professor Byleth says firmly. Her eyes find Claude’s. “I won’t let Dimitri die. If you won’t charge, I will. He’s not going in alone.”

Claude sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re really going to force my hand like this, aren’t you? It’s not as if I’m completely against it, but… well, I suppose there’s no time for indecision. Fine. We’ll attack now. Give the signal, Teach.”

Now? They really mean to attack now? Damn it, Dimitri! This is why Veery can’t trust him in this army! This is why he and Lysithea make the call that they do! Sure, he doesn’t kill anyone on their side, but his erratic behavior is leading them to fight in this fog, which will surely lead to more death and injury than a battle in fair conditions would.

And this battle is already shaping up to be a bad one.

Cursing, Veery runs with Caub to their positions. Claude hopes to take advantage of their mountain-dweller sure-footedness and set them upon the central hill, which means that Veery’s group is essentially leading the charge into the most dangerous area of the field.

(Ordinarily, Veery might question it. But really, he feels like maybe it’s Claude’s punishment. Not that that means he accepts it, but someone has to take the hill.)

They move swiftly, stealing through the fog, doing all they can to turn the terrain to their advantage rather than against them. Unlike Veery, Caub, Hoarvug, and Sadi are unfamiliar with the area, so the fog is even more perilous. But they follow him without question, trusting him to know where he’s going.

An earth-shaking crash appears behind them, and moments later the fog glows orange (and the damn fog makes it impossible to pinpoint the source of that light). A few minutes later, while Veery is still picking his way closer to the hill, all senses on alert, picking up the first hints of smoke over the oppressive damp in the air, there’s another crash from behind them.

Screams.

It’s probably the ballista. Aiming in this should be impossible, but if whoever is on it is just throwing fire far enough that it has to be beyond enemy lines… Then Veery, at least, is safe from it. He can’t waste time worrying about everyone else.

Ethereal orange glow in the fog disorients like will-o-the-wisps drawing them off course. It takes so much of Veery’s focus just to maintain the map of Gronder Field in his mind through the fog and fighting that he almost stumbles right into an Imperial knight’s axe.

Sadi saves him by catching their attention so that Hoarvug can leap and, together with Caub and Veery, overwhelm the poor knight.

Then, Veery has to reorient himself and hope he hasn’t lost track of where he’s going.

It takes longer than it should, not because they move at all slowly – though their allies, for the sheer number of soldiers alongside them, do slow them down – but because they actually wander into the more forested area of the east before switching gears and finally finding their way to where they should be.

Five years ago, Veery tells Edelgard that the forest is where he’d be. It’s where he has the greatest chance of survival. He’s adapted to guerrilla warfare. Ambush and the hunt. Not open battle, and certainly not an uphill one.

It’s with a deep, fleeting sense of longing with which Veery turns his back on the forest and ventures to where he now knows the hill to be.

(Someone has to take out that ballista, because even blind shots can destroy their army if the Empire is lucky enough. This is what Claude is trusting him to do. Something deep and desperate within Veery screams that he cannot fail Claude’s trust here. If he messes up, if he steps out of line again or fails to prove his usefulness… Not while Claude is already doubting him. Not while Teach is already doubting him.)

When the grass turns to old wooden planks and the flat field turns into an incline and the scattered soldiers around him turn into a packed force, Veery knows he’s in the right place. He fights his way all the way to the top. A slow, steady ascent through waves upon waves of opposition.

Then he finally sees the ballista through the fog, and next to it, operating the controls…

Bernadetta.

Veery chokes sharply as his throat seizes shut at the sight of her. Little Bernadetta. Scared, trembling, cowering Bernie.

She looks so strong now.

It’s stupid. It’s the stupidest thing possible to feel here on this hill, in this bloodbath, staring down an old friend, the timid little girl who is a second away from loosing her arrow into his eye. It’s so stupid that, when he sees her, his chest puffs up with pride.

She is so strong, now. That look in her eyes as she trains her bow on Veery… it’s scared, yes, but it’s brave.

Oh, Bernie. Flashing through his head, Veery sees the scant few times he really interacts with her. Five years ago, she is so frightened of him that those moments are rare, but even so he remembers them. Adjusting her by the fire so she won’t get cold after she faints because he accidentally scares her. Walking with her to the ball, where he doesn’t even get a chance to dance with her because she taps out long before the Golden Deer release Veery from the dance floor.

She sees him. She steps off the ballista, preparing herself to face her enemies head-on. “Veery. I’m sorry,” Bernadetta says, voice hard, but not cold. And not trembling. “But this is war.”

He understands. There are no hard feelings. Not from Veery. He’s going to try to kill her, too. This is war, after all.

Veery has to admit, he had hoped that, if it comes to facing an old friend like this, he will at least be able to frighten off Bernadetta. He can be quite intimidating when he wants to be, after all, and Bernadetta has always been afraid of him. Maybe, if he scares her enough, she will put down her bow and choose not to fight.

But these are not the eyes of someone who will be cowed. Bernadetta is stronger than that, now. It’s a shame that her growth will lead to her death, but Veery finds himself proud of her all the same. From one coward to another, who have both found themselves lionhearted on the battlefield, Veery has only respect and admiration for this girl in front of him.

The white flames of Abraxas lap at Veery’s lips. She apologizes to him, wishing for no hard feelings. Veery would do the same, but… maybe it’s Claude’s influence, or maybe it’s just Veery’s own pragmatic view on death, but it doesn’t matter much. If she wants to hate Veery for what he’s about to do, then that’s okay. He will accept that hatred. It is not undeserved.

And once she is dead, it won’t matter.

Bernadetta’s arrow flies. Veery does not flinch. He already knows that Caub is there to deflect it with his shield. Hoarvug barrels towards her, but Bernadetta is not the same Bernadetta from five years ago at the academy. She faces the massive golden lion without hesitation.

It’s a distraction. Veery releases Abraxas. A massive pillar of pure white flame erupts around him as he leaps ahead of his line, into the enemies. Bernadetta, by the skin of her teeth, bats Hoarvug away with her bow and slips out of range of Veery’s spell, but she is not his aim, anyway.

No, Veery’s pounce is not on the commander here on this hill, but on the ballista. He lands aside the wooden contraption and brings his spell down as hard as he can, trying in all his effort to recreate the scorching sea of Brigid after it is touched by the flames of Ragnarök.

And then, because this is the Empire, led in this battle not only by Edelgard herself, but more of the old Black Eagles, and thus Veery knows that a dazzling display and the loss of the ballista will not be enough to break these platoons’ ranks, Veery tears through space itself, using Rewarp, to land right on the armored helmets of the poor fools just past the crest of the hill.

No matter how orderly and well-trained these men are, no one will react with grace to a flaming, teleporting, predator like him. Simply jumping in to destroy the ballista, sure, they can handle it, but when he jumps in a heartbeat from the ballista to behind their lines?

Veery can only smile, because this is the selfsame pandemonium that wins Claude the Battle of the Eagle and Lion so long ago. Chaos favors the Deer. Veery isn’t sure when he realizes that, but he can only conclude it to be true. And Veery is very much one of the Golden Deer.

The Empire quickly loses its hold on the hill. It only takes a moment. A moment when the Empire’s line breaks, when they’re distracted, and there is Leonie. There is Raphael. There is Lorenz, with Lysithea, Thyrsus thrumming, to capitalize on that break and shatter the force here completely.

Veery supports Sadi. Her opponent is Bernadetta, still fighting despite the chaos, wickedly dangerous with a thin blade. Bernadetta’s bow is broken, and from the stinging, bloody line on Hoarvug’s leg, he snaps it and gets the string in retaliation. Her quiver is fallen, cut off from the same swipe that leaves her with a gash on her hip.

But Sadi and Hoarvug are hurt, too. Bernadetta is not someone to be overrun and underestimated, as she has proven. Veery, with Caub ever at his side, jump in to assist. Bernadetta may be strong, strong enough, even, to hold out against a pair of agell, but not for long.

Bernadetta knows this. Veery can see it in her eyes. He hears it, when she murmurs, “Wish I could have at least died at home… not in this big, stupid field…”

All the same, she raises her blade, prepared to accept that death for the person she trusts the most. And that is where Bernadetta and Veery are different. Even for Claude, even for Caub, Veery does not believe he can face down certain death and stand as bravely as she does now. Maybe, just maybe, if their lives are on the line, Veery might do something stupid and put himself on the chopping block ahead of them. But he will not simply fight to the death for their cause.

Veery gathers his legs under him, preparing to pounce and put an end to this. It’s Bernadetta. If he takes the lead here, he can cripple her and save her life. He can save her life. She doesn’t have a say in it. She doesn’t get to fight to the death, if Veery and his friends can subdue her even if she’s fighting to kill. Then, they merely have to imprison her until the war is over. In secret, if necessary.

But Veery has to try. He can’t just outright slaughter her. He has to give her a chance. The odds are such that he can give her that chance. Even if she refuses on the field of battle, he’ll keep her alive and she’ll be thankful when the war ends and she’s still breathing to see it. Bernadetta will not be the next Ferdinand. Veery will not look on helplessly as Dorothea and Petra cry over another lost classmate. Not while he still has a choice in the matter.

And then Veery hears the distinct release and swing of trebuchets, and his heart falls straight through his chest to the blooded earth.

Hoarvug and Sadi, of course, hear it too, and Veery yowls for the rest and directs his gaze upwards. There, sailing through the air, aimed right for the hill they stand on… he can’t see through the fog, but Veery can hear them in the air, and he has a fair guess of what’s coming. Flaming barrels of pitch.

It’s the same damn strategy that the resistance uses in the second battle of Garreg Mach. It’s basically the same damn strategy that Claude uses in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion five years ago, except that was a practice battle, so they had to make do with only the shock and chaos of the explosion rather than literally setting the whole hill on fire.

Veery can’t get off the hill fast enough. The best he can do is watch the barrels so they don’t land on him, and navigate through after.

If he can.

He checks his allies. Hoarvug, Sadi, and Caub all grimly watch the sky, at the ready but unwavering at Veery’s side. Lorenz is pulling Lysithea atop his horse even as he hurdles down the hill at full speed, heeding Veery’s warning whether he understands the threat or not. Leonie is doing the same with Raphael. The latter pair catches Veery’s eye but can’t afford to hesitate if they want to be clear of the flames.

Veery does not hold it against them. He would leave them, too. Better that they get clear and try to open a path from the outside than get trapped in the middle like Veery. He can tell from both Leonie and Raphael’s expressions that they are not planning on leaving them to their fate, regardless, so it’s not as if they’re being abandoned to the blaze. They just need to survive the impact and find a way to regroup.

The rest of their allies, the resistance soldiers, as the silhouettes of the barrels appear through the fog, are scattering, running like chickens without their heads, fleeing for their lives when they realize what’s bearing down on them. That’s if they aren’t frozen in sublime horror.

Then, there is only just enough time for Veery’s eyes to land on Bernadetta, and for his heart to plummet, before fire consumes all.

Screams drown out everything else. Veery pins his ears back flat against his head as the flames lap at him. He burns. He can feel it, a splashing of pitch, sticking to him. Flaming tar that sinks into his fur and sets it alight. Caub’s shield blocks much of it, but it’s just a small thing, and cannot possibly protect them from the black spray of the barrels’ impact with the earth. At best, it protects them from the larger debris, though even then Veery knows that a shard of one of the barrels finds its way into his flesh. The stinging in his leg is hardly of note over the searing of his flesh and stench of burning bodies and fur, but Veery is a healer, trained to notice these things.

His best guess in the moment? Veery has debris in his leg and the pitch splashes across his hip. That’s on fire. He needs to smother it.

Veery growls and, lacking options, tears his claws through the earth. There is some wooden planking here on the hill, but it’s old and half-destroyed already from the battle, so it takes but a moment to rip through it and expose bare dirt. It’s good. The planks protect the earth, for the most part, from the pitch, so the dirt is dry and not on fire.

He would use Blizzard to conjure some ice in the little fire pit he makes – is still making, expanding it just enough to flop down into, and turning over enough dirt to get rid of the pitch that does seep through the wood – but he has no idea what this pitch is made from. Some fire mediums react explosively to water, and the smoke and death and burning are far too overwhelming for Veery to so quickly identify this specific formula by scent, if he knows it at all.

So, he just gets enough clean dirt showing and rolls aggressively into it, first focusing on his hindquarters, where he knows he gets the pitch on him, and then for good measure ensuring he gets a complete, rushed dust bath just in case.

With this much adrenaline, so much that he hardly registers the pain his body has to be under, even he might miss something. It won’t do to have his fur burn off.

It’s an embarrassing flailing. Scrabbling, really. Not as purposeful as Veery intends in his panic, but it gets the job done. Once he’s sure he’s not on fire, he sees that Sadi and Hoarvug are following his lead, rolling in their own self-made bowls of clean dirt.

Caub, however, is still on fire – or his clothes are, not him, except for a small patch on his arm where the pitch splashes over his shield – and stares fixated in horror at something just beyond the nearest flames.

No time for that. Veery grabs Caub with his teeth – he can’t really singe his whiskers any more than they already are, but it’s still not nice – and hauls Caub down into his own dirt sanctuary, batting as softly at he can without burning himself at the side of Caub’s pants, which is burning from the pitch and trying to force Caub’s pitch-stained and burning arm into the dirt.

Caub gets the hint and does a much better job of it himself.

Okay. Good. He and his friends are no longer literally on fire. The others are off the hill. The soldiers? Gone. Those screams are a lost cause. At least, so long as Veery has himself and his Albineans to look out for, they’re the priority, not the everyman soldier.

…That’s exactly why Veery isn’t a commander. Even so, it’s his priorities, and it’s the truth. He doesn’t want to be a commander either way, but he has to take command now. Of his group.

Oh, there’s the pain. Fuck.

Fight it. Veery grits his teeth. He feels like he’s still on fire. There’s really no more apt description than what literally happens – that it feels like he’s been splashed in pitch and set alight. Thank goodness the dirt gets that off of them fairly well. He’s sure the rubbing doesn’t help the injury, though.

A wave of cool, of soothing, overcomes him, and Veery glances over to see Caub grimacing as he holds a hand to Veery’s flank. It’s not so much a proper healing of the burn as simply easing the pain so that Veery can examine the situation and think, and that isn’t lost on Veery. It’s just the sort of thing Caub would do.

Okay, so think. The screaming isn’t helping. If the pitch doesn’t react with water, a Blizzard spell can open up a path, at least momentarily. But that’s a gamble. He can kick dirt up making a path slowly, but they’ll all likely die from the sticky smoke burning their lungs before they can make it all the way off the hill.

Damn it. Fire is not Veery’s specialty. In fact, he famously sucks with fire.

And that screaming isn’t helping!

…Oh, gods. That’s Bernadetta. He catches sight of her through the flames and stills, transfixed. Veery watches, unable to do a thing, as Bernadetta burns alive. Veery and his friends have small, temporary shelters from the flames. They won’t last long, but it’s enough to give them a moment to think, but Bernadetta is covered in pitch. She has no shield to protect her, and apparently gets unlucky, too. She wails, and burns, and sobs, and when she says something halfway coherent, it’s just an anguished cry out to Edelgard.

Edelgard.

This is Edelgard. Bernadetta is still alive and fighting when she gives the order to set the hill aflame! Bernadetta’s death, this haunting, horrifying scene of pain and despair, is Edelgard’s doing. Not in the abstract, for starting the war and bringing Bernadetta into it, but in the very real, literal sense that it is Edelgard who is killing Bernadetta. Not the resistance.

This… is a new low. This is the kind of low one does not rise from. How can she do this? Veery wants so desperately to save Bernadetta. With the odds as they were, he would have saved Bernadetta! But Edelgard makes the decision to throw away her life for this blood and flames.

It only hurts more, knowing that Bernadetta fights here, so bravely, because Edelgard is the person she trusts the most.

Would Claude burn Veery along with his enemies, if it means winning the war?

The terror in Bernadetta’s burning eyes, her frantic, anguished wails as she collapses and does not rise, terrify Veery beyond all imagining. He wonders if Edelgard, at some point, promises Bernadetta that she can count on her. He wonders if Edelgard, at some point, calls Bernadetta a friend. Or a sister.

Veery cannot breathe, and he does not know if it is because of the smoke. He does know that it is far more than that which brings the tears to his eyes.

A large hand roughly scruffs Veery. No one is quite so large that they can actually pick him up by the back of his neck like that – even Hoarvug needs two hands to lift another fully grown agell, even a small one like Veery – but they give him a firm, painful yank that snaps him quickly out of his horror.

Caub knows not to do that. Caub has never done that before, always knowing without even asking that something like that is far beyond his bounds. But Caub does that here because Veery is the one who is supposed to be thinking of a way out of the flames, and instead he’s staring helplessly, thoughtlessly save for the unspoken doubts that sink into his heart as his… friend? Enemy? Someone he cares about, for whatever reason, dies.

And that is a fair enough reason to scruff Veery, honestly. Caub has the right of it. This isn’t the time to lose himself.

It’s not as if Veery will ever stop seeing Bernadetta being eaten by those flames, so he’ll have plenty of time to linger on it later.

So, what does he do, when they’re still trapped by the fire? Blizzard? He hesitantly sniffs at the burning pitch. The smoke given off should tell, if he keeps his wits about him and scents carefully. But his nose is singed and breathing in the smoke only burns him, so it is difficult to be certain.

Veery doesn’t think water is an option. That sticky texture of the smoke, that tangy smell… he can’t be certain, but if he risks it and it is what he thinks it is, Blizzard might blow up right in their faces and kill them all. The winds of Fimbulvetr might just as easily fan the flames as extinguish them, even if Veery can be sure he’s capable of casting it right now, and even then, they run into the same water problem.

Claude flies overhead on that beautiful wyvern, breaking through the black smoke sky, calling out to him but unable to land to retrieve him. The wyvern can likely lift them out if they have enough rope, but putting that together requires Claude landing, assembling the lift, then coming back, and Veery is already lightheaded.

Which leaves only one option, really. They have to go through the flames as-is.

Veery shifts back, gasping, then coughing, as his throat scratches him from the inside. With a raspy voice, all he can muster, he tells Hoarvug and Sadi to shift as well, then rips the debris from his leg, stifling his scream as he does so, and quickly ensures no pieces remain in his flesh. What they’re going to do won’t be good for them either way, but leaving that in him will only make Marianne and the other healers despise him. They won’t be able to maintain the control it will take not to accidentally heal the debris into him.

Even as he works, he turns to Caub. “We’ll heal through the flames.”

“What?” Caub gapes. “Are you mad? Do you know how much magic that would take?”

“The Albinean way. Like Celica taught us.”

“Like Celi- You want to test that now?”

Veery growls and snaps, “Do you have a better idea?”

Caub opens his mouth to protest, cuts himself off with a coughing fit, then, grimacing, concedes.

Veery grabs Hoarvug and, settling one hand on his back as Caub arranges Sadi the same way, and then placing his free hand on Caub’s back, and feeling Caub’s hand on his, Veery opens his heart to Hoarvug.

This way is faster than explanations.

In their square arrangement, Hoarvug and Sadi lead the way into the flames. They each reach behind them to grab their respective healer’s wrist, holding them firmly to their backs, and step forward steadily. Quickly, but not rushing. Steady, but taking care. The ash and their boots protect their feet from the flames but kicking up embers will burn everyone in the party even worse than they already are.

But if they do, Veery and Caub are focused entirely on healing. And by the gods, it hurts. As if the flames don’t hurt enough, Albinean magic tears through the body, ripping it apart from the inside out. They walk, one hand on their guide, healing them continuously, at full power to keep pace with the damage the flames do on the way, and the other hand on the other healer, pushing beyond their limits to heal both the burns and their self-inflicted magic tears.

Of course, it’s brute force healing. None of the careful stuff that needs doing when internal structures are damaged. Neither Veery nor Caub, while doing something like this, can possibly do any careful work. It would be one thing if they can soothe pain this way, but under the pain inflicted by their own magic alone, they cannot do something even as delicate as that. They can’t even walk forward on their own, instead having to rely on Sadi and Hoarvug to pull them out.

They feel every burn, every tear, and then they’re healed to feel it right over again. Simply put, it’s pure agony. They are, quite literally, being burned alive and torn asunder at the same time, all while being magically healed in perpetuity to ensure that the torment doesn’t simply kill him.

In theory, this strategy can go on all day. Albinean magic is exceptionally magically efficient, and though this form of healing isn’t technically Albinean, it’s derived from the same principles. If they can tough out the pain and stay standing, they can fuel even this overt overexertion constantly for at least a few hours. And that’s considering Caub’s small magic pool and Veery already using powerful magic in this battle.

For a simple walk off of the blazing hill? Magical exhaustion is so far from a worry that it may as well not even be a concept. The hard part is not passing out from the pain. Or lack of oxygen. The smoke is getting really bad.

Veery really hopes that Hoarvug and Sadi will be able to get them out before he passes out. Not that he’s in much of a state to consciously hope for anything. All he is is the pain. It is so overwhelming that it is the only thing his brain is capable of processing. There’s just no room for anything else.

It feels like forever. The agell don’t have the concept of the Eternal Flames, a form of hell bathed in constant fire, where sinners are punished for eternity. Even Caub’s Helheimr is a frozen place, but the agell don’t have a concept of hell at all. Even so, that is what it feels to Veery. Eternity and all.

But, eventually, they do emerge on the other side of the flames. Much of the nearby fog is burned away, and Veery thinks, on the other side, he can even see a blue sky.

#write #fanfiction #FE Fanfiction #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fe3h

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yanderepuck · 6 months ago

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Salai-Chapter 8

WELCOME TO SALAI'S ROUTE. This is a FAN MADE route of my oc, Salai. This means this route contains my headcanons for the characters and in no way is suppose to represent the canon story. This is just a fun little time because I know many of you enjoy Salai. Feel free to engage, talk theories, send asks (even to @ask-salai ).

DISCLAIMER: His route his not canon to his character. Also, all of his lore in not in the route for simplicity reasons plus please feel free to ask about him.

Banner by @spooscribbles

You finally get to the mansion after hailing down a carriage and you hurry inside.

Sebastian: Mitsuki!

You look over and see him and Napoleon rushing over to you. Napoleon takes you in his arms and holds you.

Napoleon: Where were you?!

They sound so worried about you.

Sebastian: What happened? Are you hurt at all? Why didn’t you come home?

They start bombarding you with questions and then Sebastian sees the bandage on your arm.

Sebastian: You are hurt!

You haven’t even gotten a chance to say anything.

Napoleon: What?

He lets you go and looks at your arm. He then picks you up.

Napoleon: Let’s get you cleaned up.

Mitsuki: H-Hey! I can walk! Plus I’m fine. It’s just a little scratch and Andrea took care of me.

Napoleon: Andrea?

Sebastian: You mean that guy you went to lunch with the other day? The one you just met and I told you to be careful around.

He would flick your head if you weren’t already hurt

Mitsuki: It’s not like that! We spent the day together yesterday and I was going to leave-

Napoleon: You spent the day with some stranger?

Mitsuki: I've lived with you guys for a month and we’re all strangers

You pout. Is it really any better? Maybe you could argue that it’s different, but not by much.

Mitsuki: But I’m fine! He took care of the cut and I stayed in his apartment for the night since it was too dangerous to go out at night. He took care of me.

Napoleon: But did you-

Mitsuki: I slept in his bed and he slept on the couch

You already had a feeling that you were going to be asked that.

Sebastian: Well we should still clean up your arm

Napoleon is still walking with you in his arms, taking you to your room. You pout the whole way, not wanting to be carried. You just want to bathe and change your clothes.

Mitsuki: Can I at least bathe first? I’ve been in the same clothes since yesterday.

Napoleon and Sebastian both hesitate to answer.

Sebastian: Fine. But when you are done go to Arthur to look at your arm, okay?

Napoleon sets you down finally in front of your door.

Napoleon: I’ll let everyone know that you’re back

You spend a long time in the thermae, wanting to relax and think back on last night. Why did you feel like that when he fell on you? Did he feel the same? He didn’t get up right away after all. So many thoughts are running through your head. You feel your face get flushed but just blame it on the heat of the water. You finally get up and pat your body dry, putting on fresh clothes and wrapping your hair up in the towel. You go back to your room and then you look at the cut on your arm.

It stings, but it isn’t deep and should be healed in a few days. There was a lot of blood in the moment but it seemed to have closed up already. You continue to dry your hair. You might as well see Arthur to get it bandaged, you didn’t have anything to do it yourself.

You sigh and leave your room. You go directly to the parlor, expecting Arthur to be in there, possibly playing chess with someone. And you were right. Arthur was sitting there with Theo, and you knew Theo was losing with the look he had on his face.

Mitsuki: Arthur?

He had his back to you. Hearing his name he looked over his shoulder and smiled.

Arthur: Mitsuki! Glad to see you are safe.

He gets up from the board and comes over to you. He immediately takes your arm and rolls up your sleeve. In any other instance you would yell at him, but surely Sebastian told him why you were here.

Arthur: Go sit down while I get my things.

He leaves the room and you sit in the chair Arthur was originally sitting in. Theo watches you and looks at the cut on your arm.

Theo: Are you okay? What happened, hondje?

Mitsuki: It stings, but I’m okay. I was on my way back and some man attacked me, but…a friend saved me.

You weren’t sure how to word it without going into too much detail, and you didn’t want to go into detail. You are fine now and that is what matters.

Theo: I’m glad you are safe. Maybe next time you need to go out one of us should go with you.

Mitsuki: Well… I do need to go out tomorrow… and I was hoping you would come with me. Remember that painter I was telling you about, Andrea? He’s open to the idea of having his paintings at the gallery and if you weren’t doing anything he’s happy to have us over tomorrow for you to look at them.

Theo was a little caught off guard. Not the question he was expecting after the panic everyone was in over the night.

Theo: Sure. If you think his paintings are good then I guess they are worth giving a look at.

Arthur comes back with a few things and kneels on the floor next to you

Arthur: Are you two making date plans without me?

Mitsuki: It’s about the gallery

You let Arthur take your arm and let him do his thing.

Arthur: Right, that is coming up. So what is it about this guy that swept you off your feet that I couldn’t do, luv

So Napoleon even told them that the friend is a guy, and that’s where you were

Mitsuki: It’s not like that! He saved me and then let me stay at his apartment until this morning.

Theo: The painter?

Mitsuki: Yes, and nothing happened. We were hanging out, I went to his place to look at his paintings, and when I went to leave it was already late and I got hurt. I don’t see why it is a big deal.

Arthur and Theo both look at each other, both having the same thought.

Theo: Hondje… how does that not sound like an issue to you?

Arthur: You barely know the man, and you went to his apartment

Theo: Sure that isn’t a normal thing even in your time

You pout. You weren’t going to get through to them. You can trust him and you know that. He’s not dangerous and he helped you.

Mitsuki: It’s not like that was my first time spending time with him. We went to lunch too and-

Arthur: So you got yourself a boyfriend~

He teased and Theo sighed. There is no point in trying to explain to them.

Mitsuki: It’s not like that!

You felt your cheeks getting red, feeling embarrassed. You stand up once Arthur is done bandaging your arm.

Mitsuki: He’s here looking for someone. He’s not interested in me.

You quickly left the room storming down the hall. You go to your room and lay down in bed. Did you say that to get them to be quiet, or is it because you wanted to convince yourself?

~~~

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caelesjjk · 2 years ago

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sanguine | jjk | pt. 2

⟶title: sanguine pt. 2

⟶au: vampire au, arranged marriage au, royalty au

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ genre: romance, kinda slow burn?, smut, angst

⟶wc: 12k

⟶warnings: some swearing, mentions of blood, blood drinking, biting, drowning, lots of sexual tension, a damn good kiss, Jungkook is the perfect man which makes for some very sweet moment, jealousy

⟶ summary: Marry the vampire king. Save the kingdom.

Your father is the king of a rare human kingdom that has been plagued by famine and sickness. And in a last ditch effort to save the kingdom, he has arranged for you to marry the vampire king to the north. Your hand in marriage in exchange for his help in saving your kingdom.

Everything you swore could never happen between the two of you begins to unfold as you spend more time in the vampire kingdom with its king and his subjects. Can you learn to love this place and it’s beloved ruler?

⟶ authors note: hello darklings, welcome to part 2 of the sanguine series. I cannot wait for you to read this and tell me your thoughts. So much happens in this chapter and the ride is just getting started. I also promise that the smut is coming. Not in this part, sorrrrrry. But so soon 👀

Special thanks once again to jords @jeonjcngkook , hali @haliiimede and Kay @tea4sykes for reading over this and convincing me it’s not crap and fixing all of my epic grammar mistakes. You guys are my hero’s honestly.

banner: @missgeniality

One last thing, this is a link to the playlist I made for when I’m writing Sanguine. It really sets the mood when reading too, enjoy!

Sleep evades you most of the day. You’re too exhilarated by the thoughts of what Jungkook plans to show you tonight. You’re unsettled, but even more curious.

You change your clothes several times, having no idea how to dress. Finally, you decide on a deep green velvet dress that just barely brushes the floor, its long sleeves and turtleneck have you hoping it will keep you warm in the new autumn breezes. The nights have become chilly recently.

You find a half cape made of fur to wrap around your shoulders before a knock echoes throughout your bed chambers. It makes you jump slightly from the sudden sound but you quickly recover, heading to the doors expecting it to be Jungkook on the other side.

“Ready to take our leave, my lady?” Yoongi bows to you as the door opens.

“You’re coming too?” Confusion evident on your face.

“I am.” Yoongi moves aside so that you can exit the room and walk ahead of him down the hallway. “Protecting the king and queen is in my job description.”

“Why will we need protecting?” You try to walk next to him, but he stays a step behind.

“I hope that you don’t, my lady.” Yoongi clasps his hands behind his back, some of his dark hair falling into his eyes as he watches you.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“I think I should let the king give you that information.”

“I’m the queen though, aren’t I? You have to tell me if I ask.” You lift a brow at him in defiance. Yoongi laughs quietly.

“Are you always this insistent, your highness?” He offers his hand to you as you approach the staircase.

“Perhaps. How insistent must I be to get information out of you?” You place your hand into his, still not quite used to the cold feeling of vampire skin against your own.

“Let the king have his time.” Yoongi half smiles, helping you from the last step. You glare at him in disappointment, making him laugh quietly once more.

You pull your fur around you a bit closer and look towards the huge front doors of the castle where Jungkook and Seokjin are waiting.

Jungkook looks…beautiful. Casual. Comfortable. His hair unstyled and hanging over his forehead. Brown dress slacks fitted against his muscular legs and tucked into knee height leather brown boots. His white button up shirt has more buttons undone than it does done up. It is absolutely maddening.

“Good evening, your highness.” Seokjin says, his cheery voice breaking you from ogling your husband for too long. You pray he didn’t notice.

“Good evening.” You clear your throat and bow as you approach the two of them.

“You look…” Jungkook starts to say.

“Is it too much? I had no idea how to dress for whatever it is we’re doing.” Your hands rub nervously at your thighs.

“Perfect.” Jungkook finishes, taking a step towards you. “You look perfect.” You feel heat rush to your cheeks at his words.

“Thank you.” You bite at your bottom lip, feeling lost for words when he’s so close. “You look nice too.”

“Was that a compliment, my queen?” Jungkook teases, holding out his arm for you to take. You roll your eyes.

“Do not get used to it.” You take the arm he’s offered, watching Seokjin open the doors so that the two of you can walk out first.

Outside on the stone path awaits a carriage, different from the one you remember riding in on the night of your wedding. This one seems smaller but still just as intricate in its gold embellishments and filigree wheel designs.

Jungkook helps you inside, letting you slide to the other side of the bench seat before he joins you. Yoongi and Seokjin climb into the seat at the front, the former taking the reigns and bringing the horses to a gallop.

“May I know where we’re going now?” You don’t look at Jungkook, your eyes are too busy taking in the way the orange and red leaves glide down from the trees in the moonlight. They make an autumn colored blanket over the dirt road and waft out beneath the wheels of the carriage as it passes over them. Jungkook loves the wonderment on your face.

“To see the kingdom at night. I think the city of Asteria will be something you rather enjoy.” Jungkook finally gives you the information you’ve so desperately wanted since last night.

“Asteria?” You ask, breathless at merely just the name of it.

“You may hear others in the kingdom call it the city of stars. It’s the largest part of the kingdom where most of our subjects reside.” Jungkook leans forwards and looks out the window of the carriage with you. “It’s there, between those hillsides with the cliffs.”

As the carriage approaches the hillsides, you start to see more of what Jungkook is referring to. More lights. Soft and gentle and not too bright. Buildings, so many buildings. Large ones, small ones, some at ground level while others were built into the cliff side.

The closer that you got, the more you could hear. Voices of the subjects who lived here. Vampires. So many vampires. More than you imagined existed walking around the busy cobblestone streets.

“This…these are all vampires?” You finally turn from the window to look at Jungkook.

“Yes.” He smiles gently. “It isn’t something we go around advertising. Keeps everyone safe that way.”

You look at him dumbfounded for a moment before turning back to the window as the carriage comes to a stop. Yoongi and Seokjin don’t even have enough time to jump down from the front to open the doors before you’re swinging it open and jumping out, almost tripping on your skirt as you do.

“Your majesty?” Yoongi scrambles down when he sees you, worry in voice.

You can barely hear him though. Every single one of your senses switching into overdrive as you take in the sight in front of you.

Flowers. There are thousands of flowers with their bright colors and heavenly fragrant smells. They’re lined in almost every windowsill on the main road in front of you. There are also shops and vendors placed throughout selling even more of them. It’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen.

Your feet have adapted a mind of their own, propelling you forward towards all the hustle and bustle happening on the street. You almost forget that you didn’t arrive here alone.

“_____? Are you okay?” Jungkook’s hand comes to your shoulder and stops you from going further. When you turn to look at him you know your eyes must be blown wide as they can get.

“This is beautiful.” You bring your hand up to the one he’s resting on your shoulder and wrap your fingers around his. “Can we please go and see it?”

“As if I would deny you a single thing.” Jungkook smiles, moving your hand down from your shoulder and holding it instead. You look down at your intertwined hands for a moment before you’re taking off in a rush towards the busy market. Jungkook merely laughs at your excitement.

Overwhelmed is an understatement, as you try to take in everything along the busy street. There are large glass windows in front of all the shops, displaying some of the things you might find inside of them.

Multiple shops are selling beautiful handmade clothing. Gorgeous dresses, embroidered shirts, sparkling skirts and dazzling leather. Your hands itch to run over the materials and feel them for yourself. But you’re too excited to go inside them, you need to see what else there is to discover in this beautifully hidden city.

You see jewelry shops stacked full of effervescent gems, chains of silver and gold, and bracelets made from both. There are also watches and braided leather. It’s absolutely incredible.

“See anything that you like?” Jungkook asks and you suddenly remember he’s still holding your hand as you drag him to all the shops.

“Oh. No, do not even think of it. It must all cost a fortune.” You shake your head at him.

“You continuously forget that you’re the queen of this whole kingdom, _____. Anything you want is yours.” Jungkook tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

You look down at the blood drop shaped ring on your finger, wondering if this is the shop that made it for you when you married Jungkook. The ring doesn’t feel as heavy as it used to. It stopped burning your skin where it sits against your skin. It doesn’t remind you of the terrible days anymore. Now you only think of the vampire who slid it down your finger all those months ago.

“I have enough jewelry for now.” You squeeze his hand and move to the next shop. As you approach the window, you feel confusion wash over you like a massive wave.

Toys. Children's toys.

“Why is there a toy shop?” Goosebumps cover your skin. “Vampires are forbidden from biting children.”

“You’re right, darling. We are forbidden from biting children.” Jungkook pulls your hand and brings you to stand at the corner of where one street meets another.

As your eyes focus on what he wants you to see, your breath leaves your lungs entirely. The sight in front of you is so shocking that your ability to think clearly has completely disappeared.

“What…children?” You whisper.

“Indeed. Born, not bitten.” Jungkook takes you closer to them.

“How? Vampires cannot have children.”

“And who is it that told you that? Old legends and lore perhaps?” Jungkook rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “Vampires are capable of having children with other vampires. Works much the same way it does with humans.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing, beginning to wonder if anything you thought you knew was true at all. Your chest feels heavy with this new information.

“What other lies have I been led to believe are true?” You can’t take your eyes off of the children running about in the grass kicking around a ball.

“We can debunk them as they come up. There’s no need to overwhelm you more right now.”

Before Jungkook can say anything else, you’re letting go of his hand and jogging over toward the children. Once you reach them, you lower down onto your knees in front of them and they all stop their game to gather around and regard you.

Their parents, you assume, all bow to you and encourage their children to do the same.

“There’s no need for that.” You smile at them gently. “Do you think I could play your game with you?”

One of the little girls amongst the children steps forward, a look of confusion painting her sweet face.

“Don’t you hate us, your majesty?” She asks simply, your heart sinking in your chest.

“No. I could never hate you, little one.” You reach out and gently touch the cool skin of her hand, thankful that she doesn’t flinch away when you do.

“You can be on my team, your majesty.” She smiles, her little fangs poking out and reminding you that even though she’s small, she is a vampire.

But that doesn’t seem to bother you at all.

“I would like that very much.” You let her take your hand and lead you towards the area where they were playing their game.

Looking back over your shoulder, you see Jungkook standing nearby with Yoongi and Seokjin a few steps behind. His arms are crossed over his broad chest as he watches you with a fond smile. You smile back just before the children begin shouting and explaining the rules of their game to you.

You lose track of time. Not sure at all how long you’ve been playing with the children. Your skin is warm and flushed from chasing the ball around and running about.

Jungkook still waits for you, he and Yoongi talking as you pick up your fur cloak you had discarded earlier in the game from the ground. His eyes meet yours while you’re watching him, neither of you breaking that eye contact for what seems like forever.

“Did you enjoy the game?” Seokjin asks, suddenly at your side.

“I had a lot of fun, yes.” You attempt to smooth out your hair to no avail.

“I don’t think many queens would be caught playing games with children of the kingdom. It was rather heartwarming considering how you once felt about them.” Seokjin says, not meaning to be rude. You appreciate the honesty.

“I am not sure how I feel. But what I do know, is that I was far too harsh towards the people of this kingdom. Whether they are vampires or not, I never should have said the things I did.” You sigh, walking slowly towards Jungkook and Yoongi with Seokjin at your side.

“I was the same way, you know. I hated them. Vampires have the worst reputations in this realm. But they’ve never tried to dispel the rumors…makes them seem dangerous. Keeps them safe.”

“I think that I have a lot to make up for. I have not been an easy person to deal with these past few months.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, your majesty. I think you’ll find if you keep your heart open here, you’ll be surprised by what can happen.” Seokjin smiles, the apples of his cheeks lifting in the cutest way.

“I’ll do my best.” You lift a hand to give his shoulder a squeeze, pulling it back a little too quickly when you feel how warm he is. “Are you okay? You’re burning up.”

“Ah, yes. No need to worry. It’s a werewolf thing, blood temperature is warmer than a humans and far warmer than a vampires.” Seokjin assures you.

“It seems I’ll learn something new around here every day.”

“That will make two of us, my lady.” Seokjin bows to you as you reach Jungkook and makes his way towards another group of people.

“Did you have a nice time?” Jungkook asks.

“Yes, I did.” You smile at each other, knowing your cheeks are warming the longer that you look at him.

“Shall we return to the castle soon?”

“If that’s what you wish to do.”

“We can come here whenever you like. I admittedly do not do it enough these days.” Jungkook holds out his hand for you to take and you do without thought.

“I’ll keep that in mind, your highness.” You let him gently lead you back towards the busy street you had entered the city on.

“May I ask you something?” Jungkook inquires.

“Yes.”

“Do you still have that kitchen knife strapped to your thigh?” His eyes seem to darken slightly as he watches your face.

You aren’t sure what comes over you, but you pull his hand to a stop, looking around to make sure no other eyes will hone in on what you’re about to do.

Swiftly, you lift the slit of your dress a little higher up your thigh, revealing the same kitchen knife that you had come by in Hoseok’s kitchen all those months ago.

“Just in case.” You smirk as Jungkook groans quietly.

“You’re bewitching, do you know that?” Jungkook stares at your thigh until you let your dress fall back into place.

“And you are out of your mind.” You laugh with a shake of your head.

“I merely appreciate beauty in the form of a woman with a weapon strapped to her thigh.” Jungkook's smile reaches his eyes revealing his perfectly shaped teeth, along with his own set of sharp weapons. It doesn’t frighten you as much as it likely should anymore.

“Masochist.” You tease, putting your hand back into his.

“Only for you, my queen.” He brings your hand up to his lips, brushing a kiss against your knuckles.

It catches you off guard, to feel his cool lips against your skin. The contrast is maddening in an unexplainable way. The invigorating touch of his kiss and the burning hot fire that ignites in your belly.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, letting it sink in that Jungkook has just done something very intimate with you. The most intimate the two of you have been and it was merely just a kiss to your hand.

“Are you okay?” He finally asks. You nod your head yes. “Good. I want to make one more quick stop before we take our leave then.”

“Of course.” You clear your throat.

You walk with him down the street until you reach a shop with leather workings in the window. All sorts of intricate belts and straps with the most beautiful details hang from the displays.

“Wait here a moment?” He asks, releasing your hand as he heads inside the shop. You nod and turn to see Yoongi standing behind you.

“Your highness.” He says, bowing slightly.

“You’re never too far from Jungkook, are you?” You smile tenderly and he does the same.

“He is my king and my oldest friend. I only wish to look out for him.”

“Was Jungkook born or bitten?” You ask curiously.

“Bitten, my lady.”

“He was human once.” You say more to yourself than to Yoongi, letting the thought sink in.

“A very long time ago.” Yoongi steps up a bit closer. “He was chosen to be the king because he refused to stand down when the king before him sentenced us all to death.”

“How?”

“The former king disapproved of making treaties with the humans. But obviously, we require their blood to live.”

“That’s something I’ve been curious about…how do you get the blood?”

“Donations. Humans come to us by their own will and are paid handsomely for their donations. The people of your kingdom have been given this option now as well.” Yoongi looks in the shop window, making sure that he can see Jungkook.

“There are not many human kingdoms left.” You say, sadness evident in your voice.

“Jungkook hopes to prevent any more loss. We need each other to survive.” Yoongi bows once more when he sees Jungkook is walking towards the exit of the shop.

Everything Yoongi has told you just now, has your brain reeling. You were never kept in the loop enough as a princess in your fathers kingdom, it wasn’t your right. You didn’t know half the things going on in this realm that you really should have known.

“Have something for you.” Jungkook says, breaking you from your thoughts.

“You didn’t need to.”

“I rather think this gift is necessary.” Half his mouth rising into a smile. “Come here.” Jungkook lowers down onto one knee in front of you.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes widen in surprise.

“No one is looking, and if they do I’ll kill them. Place your foot here.” He pats the top of his thigh.

“Have you gone mad?” You hiss through your teeth at him.

“Trust me, darling. Aren’t you curious about what I have for you?” Jungkooks tongue slyly licks over one of his fangs as he watches your face.

“Fine then.” You look around once more before lifting your foot and placing it on Jungkook’s thigh as he requested. Your dress slides up and reveals your makeshift knife sheath.

“You are immaculate.” His eyes hungrily roam your exposed skin. Like he could quite literally consume you whole.

His fingertips come to your skin, sliding up and burning in their wake. It didn’t matter that his skin was cool to the touch, he was setting you ablaze. They stop at the sheath wrapped around your thigh, removing the knife before far too easily ripping the material away.

“Jungkook…” You barely recognize your voice.

“You see, my queen. If you insist on carrying a weapon, and I so hope that you do,” he pauses for a moment, taking something out of the giftbag next to him, “You should at least have a proper sheath.”

Jungkook withdraws a black piece of leather from the bag, holding it up to show you. The leather looks so soft that it could possibly be velvet. Silver threads sewn into intricate designs up and down the surface. It’s an absolutely stunning piece of work.

You slide your foot through the opening, letting Jungkook glide the sheath up your leg until it fits snugly around your thigh. He lets his hands roam your skin and you instinctively feel the need to clench your thighs together to keep the foreign feelings at bay.

“It’s really beautiful.” You whisper to only him.

“You’re so deliciously soft. It’s fucking maddening.” Leaning forward, his nose skims your knee. Your eyes fall shut, lips trembling slightly.

“Why?”

“Every day is a new test of my restraint, my queen.” He moves his face back away from your skin, trying to breathe in air that wasn’t full of you.

“Are you restraining yourself from biting me?” You open your eyes slowly, just in time to see Jungkook rise from his knee to stand in front of you.

“Yes.” He answers, making you shudder. “But I never will. Not unless you ask me to. I would never hurt you.”

Before you had spent all this time with Jungkook in the vampire kingdom, you would have been disgusted by the mere thought of him biting you…drinking your blood. But now the only thoughts in your head are whether it would really hurt. Would he kill you? Would it change you into a vampire as well?

Yoongi and Seokjin return and give you an excuse not to continue the conversation further and decide to return to the carriage instead.

“Did I frighten you?” Jungkook inquires gently.

“No.” You release a shaky breath. “I think I’ve just begun to forget that you’re a vampire. It must be very difficult for you to be around me.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t start blaming yourself. I would suffer a thousand years before I ever let you do that.” He declares, voice stable and a little stern.

“I just don’t like the idea of making your life more difficult than it already is.” You huff, scooting over across the bench seat to put more space between the two of you.

“It’s very selfless of you to feel that way.” His fingers tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, cool skin brushing over the skin of your jaw until they reach your chin, gently bringing your face around to look at him once more. “But you are the most important thing to me now. I will never do anything you do not ask of me. I mean that. I do not care about the discomforts it causes me.”

“Now who’s being selfless?” You tease, leaning into his touch when his hand slides to cup your cheek.

“Stubborn girl.” He mumbles quietly.

The carriage suddenly feels very small. And very warm. The look on Jungkook’s face as he studies you, makes you shift in your seat. All of these new feelings for him begin to bubble at the surface and beg to be released. If only you weren’t such a coward.

“Have you gotten any word from Taehyung?” You clear your throat and slowly move your face away from his gentle touch. Jungkook smiles, but it’s more out of frustration than anything else.

“We expect to hear from him in the next few days. I’m sure he will want an audience.” Jungkook sighs, leaning back against the seat and running a hand through his silky hair.

“Will he come to the castle?” A different type of nerve pricks your stomach. You do not know much of Taehyung other than he is a ruthless leader always waiting for the next fight.

“If I allow him, yes. And I think it best to have these conversations with him on my terms.” Jungkooks jaw is tight and sharp as he finishes speaking.

“He wants to bargain for my fathers kingdom, doesn’t he?”

“Yes.” He turns his body towards you. “But no matter what he says or offers, I will not let him take it. I made a promise to your father and to you.”

You don’t speak of it any further on the way back to the castle. But your mind continues to reel with thoughts of the merciless werewolf king and his unwavering determination to rule your fathers kingdom. You know Jungkook will do his best to keep everyone safe, but at what cost?

The carriage stops in front of the castle's huge front doors, Seokjin jumping down from the seat at the front to open the door for you and Jungkook.

“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asks, taking your hand to help you step down from the carriage.

“A bit, yes.” You continue to hold his hand as the two of you ascend the stairs, the doors opening as you approach so that you can enter.

“Shall I have Hoseok make something for you? Seokjin is probably hungry as well.” Jungkook points out something that you had not thought of during your time here. Jin is not a vampire and requires food as well. How silly of you not to think of such a thing.

“Could hear your stomach growling the whole ride back, my queen.” Jin teases as he comes up behind the two of you.

“Perhaps a little.” You laugh quietly, eyes finally honing in on the group of people standing at the foot of the grand staircase. “Who are they?”

“You need to eat your meal, and I need to have mine.” Jungkook squeezes your hand but you suddenly feel uncomfortable.

A woman in a pale pink dress steps forward as you approach, curtsying to Jungkook but not to you. She’s very pretty, small and petite. Her hair is swept up neatly but the smile on her face is vicious.

“My king.” She says in an overly sweet voice that makes your skin crawl.

“Celeste.” Jungkook addresses her. “Shall I meet with you after you have your dinner?” He’s speaking to you but all you can do is stare at the woman in front of you.

“Will you be long?” You clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Not long.” Jungkook smirks, sensing your unrealized jealousy.

“I’ll just head to bed after dinner. Enjoy your…meal.”

“Do not worry your majesty, I will take good care of the king.” Celeste practically purrs. You want to stab her in the neck with your kitchen knife.

“I’m sure you will.” Grabbing your skirt in your hands you stomp off towards the kitchen to find Hoseok and beg him to talk you out of murder.

You slam open the swinging door of the kitchen causing poor unsuspecting Hoseok to screech and almost drop his mixing bowl. You’re pacing the floor before he even has a chance to recover.

“Did you know Jungkook has a woman that he drinks from? A pretty little thing. He had the audacity to introduce her to me. As if I give a fuck.” You grab a piece of bread off the counter top and bite into it with very little care.

“First of all, could you please stop barging in here like this? You’re going to give me a heart attack.” Hoseok sits the mixing bowl down, wiping his hands on his apron. “Second, don’t say fuck, it’s very unqueenly.”

You glare at him and savagely take another bite off the bread you were eating.

“Why do you care who he drinks blood from? You don’t even like him.” Hobi laughs and shakes his head before your eyes meet his. “Wait…you do like him! When did that change?”

“It hasn’t! I mean not really…I don’t know! All I know is that I do not like the idea of him drinking from her.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s…I’m told it’s very intimate. Drinking someone’s blood…it’s very intimate.” You can feel sweat forming on the nape of your neck.

“So what you’re saying is that you don’t want him to be intimate with her?”

“Correct. There’s something not right about her.”

“Then do you want him to be intimate with you?” Hobi stops what he’s doing and stands in front of you to halt your pacing.

The question throws you completely off guard. You should know the answer. You should not want the answer to be yes. You hate the thought of Jungkook being that close to anyone else.

“No! How could you say that!” You smack his shoulder.

“What do you propose he do then? He needs blood like you need food. You’re being unreasonable.” Hoseok rubs his shoulder.

“Who’s side are you on Hobi?” You pout your bottom lip, sad that you know he’s right.

“I’m always on your side.” He hands you another piece of bread before continuing. “But I think you need to tell the king how you feel.”

“Well that’s not going to happen.” You scoff. “I don’t…I don’t know how I feel about the king.”

“Yes you do. You’re just a stubborn ass that doesn’t want to admit it.”

“You cannot call me an ass! I’m the queen!” You laugh, only slightly surprised at his words. Hoseok has always been honest with you.

“A queen that I have known quite literally my entire life. Would it really be so bad to love him, ____?”

Love. You were especially unsure of what love meant. You felt the love of your father…from Hoseok as your friend. But you had never been in love. It was something you always assumed you would just know as soon as it happened. You also thought you would marry for love and maybe you hadn’t at the time…but now? Now you still didn’t know.

“I need to get some air.” You tell Hoseok, moving towards the door.

“At least take this food with you.” He hands you a basket with more bread, along with some cheese and fruits. You notice a second basket sitting on the counter.

“Who’s that for?”

“Seokjin. He has to eat food too.”

“I’m aware of that now.” You look at its contents a little closer. “Why does he have more in his basket?” You raise a suspicious brow.

“He’s a werewolf. He requires more food than a nosy little human queen.” Hobi pinches your side, pushing you towards the door. “Out of here, you menace.”

You can’t help but laugh, still feeling slightly suspicious of Hoseok and his beautifully packed food basket. But you decide to let it go for now, turning to hug him quickly before leaving the kitchen and finding yourself alone in the dimly lit hallway.

It doesn’t take long to find your way into the garden. You weren’t sure where else to take out your annoyance and frustrations.

Annoyed that you let that blood bag of a girl get under your skin.

Frustrated that you cared.

“Digging somewhere in particular?” Jungkooks familiar voice says from behind you. You don’t turn to look at him.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“The hole you’ve dug has gotten rather large.”

You roll your eyes, finally focusing on the ground you had been digging at. You’re surprised to see that he’s right, you’ve been so inside your head that you had no idea how long you had been digging in the same spot. This annoys you even more, taking your small shovel and shoving it into the ground in front of you as if it were a sword.

“Do you need something?” You stand from the ground, brushing off your knees in the process.

“You seemed upset earlier. I wanted to know why.” Jungkook stands with his hands behind his back, not coming closer.

“I am not upset.”

“You are.”

You roughly grab a rake from where it sits against the concrete fountain, walking to a different spot to make more distance between the two of you.

“You are mistaken.” You start to rake some of the fallen leaves that were making a mess of your flower beds.

“Tell me what you are thinking then.” Jungkook comes a bit closer, trying not to smile as he watches you. You don’t answer for a moment.

“I’m thinking about stabbing you.” You throw the rake to the ground and trudge towards Jungkook who stands unmoving. “I’m thinking that you’re probably having sex with your dinner as well.”

“I love when you threaten me with sharp objects.” Jungkook smiles widely and it makes your blood boil.

“You should have stopped feeding from her when we got married. It’s the least you could do.”

“Would you like me to?” He asks.

“Yes!” You throw your hands up.

“Done. You’ll never see her again.”

“Then you’ll just get another woman to drink from?”

“Are you offering to let me drink from you?” His infuriating brow raises.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Are you afraid that I’ll turn you?”

“No. I know that you won’t.”

“Not unless you ask me to.” His fingers come beneath your chin, grasping it gently to bring your eyes to his. “I will do anything that you ask of me. But I need to eat.”

“Does it hurt?”

“For a moment. But what follows is the opposite.” His fingers move along your jaw, caressing the skin.

“Will you…fuck me when you drink from me?” The words fall from your mouth before you can sugar coat them in any way. Jungkook growls quietly in his chest.

“Such a filthy mouth.” His thumb brushes over your lips. “Do you want me to fuck you, my queen?”

“I do not know.” You breathe, eyes falling shut when he closes the last bit of distance and his nose skims over yours.

“I think that you do know, but are afraid to admit that you may in fact want such a thing.” You can practically feel his lips ghosting yours as he speaks. Your breathing is ragged and the burning in the pit of your stomach is spreading to the apex of your thighs.

The earth feels as though it could crumble beneath you at any moment and swallow you whole. He was so close to you. Breath fanning your lips. All you have to do is lean forward and you can kiss him. Tell him that he’s right and you do want that. You want it so badly that it’s making you feel deranged.

But instead of giving into the desire, you pull back. You need to get out of his intoxicating presence and his addictive smell.

“I should go.” You try to bow and almost trip, stumbling away towards the back stairs that lead into the castle.

You don’t make it to the stairs though, a strong hand seizing the back of your neck and spinning you back around to face him. He doesn’t give you any time to protest, full lips coming down to cover yours, stealing away the breath in your chest and lungs. Your eyes flutter closed at the gentle way he cups your cheek and neck.

Jungkook is kissing you. You feel such shock that you don’t realize you haven’t kissed back just yet. When your wits return your hands seize his hair, tangling in the dark locks and pulling him closer to you. He hums against your lips, his tongue begging at the seam to slip inside the cavern of your mouth.

You’ve never kissed anyone this way. You don’t know if you’ll do it right. But you part your lips and let Jungkook take the lead, his tongue skimming your lips once more before the kiss deepens and your tongue is moving with his.

One of Jungkook's hands leaves your face and travels down your side to your waist until it reaches your lower back, bringing you flush against him. Your own hands come down from his hair and wrap around his neck instead.

Everything feels so warm. How could a man who is cool to the touch feel so warm when he’s kissing you?

When Jungkook withdraws his lips from yours, you feel dizzy, afraid to open your eyes. But you want to see his face, see if he has been as affected by the most perfect kiss you had ever experienced, so you will them to amble open.

The way that he’s already looking at you makes the fire in your stomach spread to your muscles and bones. His eyes are so dark, that crimson red ring that surrounds his irises just a bit brighter than usual. He looks as if he wants to devour you and you know that you would let him in an instant.

“Are you alright?” He finally asks.

“I am.” You ache to touch him again. “Are you?”

“I was afraid you would consume me. Steal away the small bit of humanity I have left…but it was so easy.” He smiles softly, reaching out to touch your warm cheek.

“You kissed me that way without knowing if you’d lose control?” You glare at him.

“I told you I would never hurt you. That was not a lie. But my desire…no, my need for you is something I’ve never experienced.”

“Idiot!” You step forward and push against his hard chest. He doesn’t budge, but it gets your point across. “I should have stabbed you! You could ha-“ Your sentence is cut off by his lips on yours again.

This kiss is much more bruising than the last. Jungkook wants you to understand that he’s in control of himself and that your life means everything to him. Your blood sings to him, it begs him to drink from you and not leave a single drop behind. But he won’t let that monster win, not when it comes to you.

Your fingers grip at the soft fabric of his shirt, needing something to anchor you to the earth before you float away.

“I should walk you to your rooms. The sun will be up soon.” Jungkook's lips stay close to yours as he speaks, his lashes tickling your cheek when he kisses it.

“Okay.” You try to breathe in deeply, something to steady your mind. His lips move to your temple, pressing a kiss there before the defined shape of his body leaves yours.

“Come.” Jungkook takes your hand, leading you back inside. He doesn’t let go as you make your way through the halls and up the staircase to your rooms.

“I may have forgotten to say thank you earlier. For showing me Asteria. It really was incredible.” You stand close to your bedroom door, eyes falling to the floor when you feel unable to look at him. But he won’t have any of that.

“We have much to prepare for in the coming days…” His fingers brush your jaw and cup it to bring your eyes to his. “And we must also prepare for your coronation celebration.”

“My what?” Confusion veils your face. “I didn’t think we would be having one.”

“The kingdom loves an excuse to have a party.” He laughs quietly. “And you deserve a formal welcome as Queen here.”

“I’m still not sure that anyone in the kingdom wants me here.” You step up a little closer, seeking the new found comfort Jungkook’s presence brings you.

“Anyone who has an issue with you ruling as queen here can easily be exterminated.”

“You wouldn’t do such things.”

“For you? I think you underestimate the lengths I will go to keep you safe, darling.” A soft kiss to your lips that has your knees trembling.

“Masochist.” You smile against his mouth, teeth bumping his when he does the same.

“You should sleep before I throw you over my shoulder and have my way with you in my rooms instead.” One last kiss to your forehead as if he didn’t just threaten to have his way with you.

“I am rather tired…suppose I’ll need to call on my ladies in waiting to help me out of this dress.” You decide to tease him as well, letting the shoulder of your dress slip off slightly when you turn to open the door.

“Your husband is here now, isn’t he?” Jungkook glares, fingers itching to touch your exposed skin.

“You should rest, my king.” You bow to him, knowing your cleavage will spill out and his eyes do not miss it.

“______.” He groans your name, but you’re already slipping into your room.

“Goodnight, Jungkook.” You close the door when he tries to step closer, pressing your back to the cool wood, listening to him whine on the other side before it gets quiet and you know he’s gone to bed.

A few days have passed and Taehyung has not yet sent word of when we will be arriving in the vampire kingdom to discuss your fathers land.

It baffles you each time you think of it. Why would someone want the land of your kingdom so badly? It wasn’t as if it was more special than any other kingdom in the realm.

You find yourself walking the halls just as the sun has fallen beneath the horizon, the clouds swirling with deep blues and hues of purple. A perfect twilight.

“My queen.” Yoongi suddenly appears, making you almost jump out of your skin.

“General.” You manage to squeak out.

“Are you well?” He asks.

“Honestly…I’m rather bored.” Yoongi smiles at your statement, the endearing gums above his teeth showing along with the dangerous shape of his fangs.

“Shall I teach you something then?” He questions.

“What will you teach me, General?”

“I’ve heard you’re harboring a knife for safety.” He chuckles quietly. “I thought perhaps you might want to learn how to use blades properly.”

“You’ll teach me to fight?” Your eyes light up at his words.

“To protect yourself.” Yoongi begins to walk down the hall, looking back over his shoulder at you. “Are you coming?”

“Yes!” You almost stumble trying to move your feet too quickly, but manage to follow him without injury.

Yoongi brings you to a large room downstairs, the walls filled with weapons of every sort. There are mats made of a padded material spread out across the floor as well.

In one corner of the room, you notice a very large pile of silver fur, and said pile of fur seems to be…breathing.

“What is that?” You ask, voice shaking slightly.

“That…” Yoongi smiles, “is Seokjin.”

“Oh…” You continue to stare, never having seen Seokjin in his werewolf form.

He had taken some time a few days ago to explain that he’s in fact, a lycan, he was born and not bitten. The kind that depends on the moon to change are werewolves that were bitten by a lycan.

Jin hears the two of you approach and lifts his head, ears perked before he bows his large head to greet you. You return the gesture.

“Are you going to stay and watch me teach the queen how to use a blade?” Yoongi directs his question towards Jin.

Jin huffs through his nose once, laying back down with his eyes on the two of you.

“Is that a yes?” You wonder.

“It is. He also said that if I hurt you he will rip out my throat.” Yoongi smiles again, pointing the sword he had just picked up from a table towards Jin across the room.

“How would you know he said that? He didn’t speak.”

“Because I can read his mind.” Yoongi says so matter of factly.

“You…I’m sorry. You can read his mind?”

“Yes, my lady. He can read mine as well. It happens between beings like us after we’ve spent long amounts of time together.” Yoongi picks up another sword and hands it to you but you’re too distracted, almost dropping it to the ground.

“Can you read mine?” You’re absolutely fascinated and terrified at the same time.

“No, I cannot. We haven’t known each other long and you are very…human.” Yoongi adjusts your grip on the sword while you barely pay attention.

“What about Jungkook? Can he read my mind?”

“That’s a question the king will need to answer.” You can hear the frustration in Yoongi's voice as he continues to try and help you hold the sword while you barely acknowledge what he’s doing.

“Fascinating.” You mumble.

“If you will, my lady, hold the sword.” He finally says.

“Oh, yes. I’ve got it.” You’ve held a sword before, but have never needed to use one in any type of battle.

Yoongi begins to explain that the movement is all in your wrist but the strength comes from using force from your upper body. He goes over the basics: how to hold the sword, how to step, how to avoid counterattacks and how to do some very simple counter attacks of your own.

You can feel sweat forming on your brow and dripping down your back. You haven’t done this much physical activity in quite some time.

“You’re doing well, your majesty.” Yoongi compliments.

“I wish I could know it all, all at once.” You sigh, leaning against the wall. Yoongi laughs quietly.

“With due time.” He places his sword back on the table. “We can train whenever you like, as long as the king doesn’t have me out and about.”

“I would like that very much, General.” You smile and he does the same as you place your sword into the holster.

As you do, the sheath pinches your finger and makes a small cut. You hold it up with a wince, seeing a small drop of blood form on the tip.

“All that swinging a sword around with no injury only to get a cut from a small pinch.” You wipe it against your thigh, wondering why Yoongi has become so quiet.

It did not click in your mind that this would be a problem.

“You need to get out of here. Right now!” Yoongi half yells and half growls, breathing rapidly through his mouth. The earthy color of his eyes was now soaked in a blood red.

“I’m sorry…” You take a step back towards the exit door, tripping over the table leg and landing on your back.

“Your blood…it’s screaming at me.” Yoongi groans and covers his ears with his hands, trying to stop himself from pouncing on you and draining you dry.

In the next moment, a mass of silver fur appears in front of you, blocking Yoongi from moving any closer. Seokjin growls deep in his chest, the rumble of it vibrating your bones. He turns his head towards you, nudging you with his nose and huffing, silently telling you to get out now.

You don’t hesitate, scrambling from the floor and dashing out the exit door and up the stone stairway. You look back once, only to run directly into the chest of your husband.

“What’s going on?” He asks, hands steadying your shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I didn’t even think.” You're prattling on and making no sense you’re sure.

“Shh.” Jungkook hushes you, cupping your face in his hands. “Look at me and tell me what’s happened.”

“Yoongi was teaching me to use a sword…for protection. I just…I nicked my finger a little…I’m so sorry.” You feel as though you’re unable to string a coherent sentence together.

“Did he hurt you?” Jungkook asks, jaw tightening.

“What? No, he didn’t hurt me. Seokjin was there, he stepped between us so I could leave.” Jungkooks face softens a little at that bit of information. You’re about to speak again when Jin comes up the stairs in his human form.

“Are you okay, your majesty?” He asks the question to you, but looks at Jungkook. They’re talking with their minds.

“I’m fine.” You tenderly take Jungkook's hands from your face so you can turn to face Jin. “Where is Yoongi? Is he alright?”

“He could have killed you and you’re wondering if he’s well?” Jungkook shakes his head, a slight smile on his lips.

“It wasn’t his fault. I was bleeding in front of a vampire…and he resisted.”

“Yoongi will be fine, my lady. He just needs a moment.” Jin bows to you and Jungkook, obviously saying something else with his mind before heading back down the stairs.

“That’s going to get very frustrating.” You exhale loudly, turning back to face your husband who has an amused look on his face.

“I suppose my General filled you in on more than just swordsmanship.” Jungkook takes one of your hands in his, bringing it to his lips and brushing a kiss across the knuckles.

“Can you read my mind?” You ask, trying not to crumble at the feeling of his cool lips on your skin.

“No. That may take time to happen.” Jungkook turns your hand over to inspect the small cut on the top of your finger.

“Why does my blood not bother you?”

“It does.” He stares at your finger, swallowing harshly.

“Then why are you torturing yourself by being close to me now?”

“Because I will never hurt you.”

“I know.” Gods, you want him to kiss you again.

“I should kill Yoongi for even thinking of hurting you.” Jungkooks mouth was suddenly covering yours. Was he sure he couldn’t read your mind?

You allow the kiss and the rush of warmth that spreads through your body before your mind catches up, pushing Jungkook back from you.

“You will do no such thing. Yoongi is your friend. Promise me right now that you will not harm him in any way.” You look at him sternly.

“Seeing as I’m afraid you may stab me if I don’t do as you say, I suppose I’ll let the General keep his life.” He grabs your waist, pulling you back against his body.

“I’m glad I’ve gotten my point across about the stabbing.” Your hands travel up his chest, fidgeting with the lapels of his jacket. Jungkook smiles as he lifts your chin with his fingers to look at him.

“I came to find you so that I could speak with you about something.” He whispers the words, breath fanning your lips.

“And what would that be, my king?”

“I like when you call me your king…very much.” He playfully kisses your lips and makes you giggle. An actual giggle leaves your mouth.

“Stop changing the subject! What did you want to speak about?” You hold him at arm's length until he tells you what he needs to. His face becomes much more serious.

“Taehyung arrives the day after tomorrow. He’ll be here at sunset.”

“Oh.” You knew the time to meet Taehyung was coming but it was still surprising to hear the news. “Should we make arrangements?”

“That’s what I want to talk about, _____. I think it would be best if you stayed away while Taehyung is here.” Jungkook's eyes are on the floor as he speaks, he knows this won’t go well.

“Suddenly you want to keep me out of things? How did you think this conversation would go, Jungkook? That I’d be your good little wife and submit to your request? I refuse!” You push past him, starting towards the staircase.

“I thought perhaps you would be reasonable.” Jungkook sighs, his inhuman speed bringing him in front of you again.

“If you wanted a quiet and pliant wife you should have married your blood bag.” You scowl, fully prepared to pull your knife out of the sheath.

“You’re pulling away.”

“You’re pushing me out! Why? I want to know why.” You step up and shove your finger into his chest.

“Because Taehyung is already aware of our marriage. Now he knows that I have a weakness. I want to keep you out of harm's way where he can use you against me.” Jungkook takes one of your hands in his, begging you with his eyes to understand.

“If that’s the case, your highness, then perhaps we should be showing Taehyung that I am not a weakness and will not take his threats.” You yank your hand from his, walking up the stairs without another word from Jungkook.

Once again, sleep evades you. Every time you close your eyes you see the hurt look on Jungkook's face when you walk away and it makes tears threaten to escape.

The sun is still up, beginning its descent to drop below the horizon. You throw off your covers and make your way over to the window. Tiredly, you undo the latch and push open the panes.

It’s a strangely warm day out for this time of year. A comfortable breeze brings the scent of the flowers and trees floating into your room and tickling your nose.

You breathe it deep into your lungs. It feels good to just breathe.

Out past the gardens, you can see a turquoise colored lake. Willow trees surround it and dangle their long branches across the water's surface. It’s stunning and enticing.

Not having been out in the sun for months, you decide to forfeit sleep and make your way outside the castle to the lake that felt as if it was calling your name.

You wrap a shawl around your shoulders, quietly padding through the halls and down the staircase towards the back doors. Quickly, you check on your flowers in the garden and thankfully they are all taking nicely to the soil and growing.

Looking towards the veranda across the garden, your eyes fall onto the oversized pile of silver fur that you’ve come to know. Seokjin lays in a ray of sun, warming his muscles and bones and soaking it in. You’ve seen him do this quite often. He must miss the sun as well at times.

His head lifts when he hears you begin to walk across the lawn.

“It’s okay, Jin. I’m only going for a walk.” You reassure him. He tilts his head to the side, huffing through his nose. “You don’t need to accompany me. Enjoy the sun.” Jin whines a little and lays his head back against the stones.

You make sure that he doesn’t decide to follow you before continuing the short journey to the lake. The long grass tickles your calves and fingertips when you flatten your palms to feel the silky blades.

When you reach the bank of the lake you breathe in as deeply as you can manage. Everything smells fresh and earthy. The urge to get into the water is too hard to ignore even though you know it will be cold this time of year.

Gingerly, you slip off your boots and the shawl you had grabbed on the way out of your bedroom. The breeze makes you shiver when more of your skin is exposed to the outside elements, but you ignore it, standing at the water's edge in only a flimsy camisole and sleep shorts.

Unable to resist any longer, you step into the water, pushing away any protest from your body as the cold water rises up your body the farther you submerge.

You let your body float on top of the pool, tendrils of your hair sticking to your face. Floating here may be the closest thing you can imagine to heaven. Light. Airy. Blanketed. Free. It was almost overwhelming.

As you begin to move your arms to move across the top of the water, something seizes your foot and pulls you back. Jolting upwards, you look around frantically but the surface of the water appears calm as far as you can see. You almost begin to wonder if you had imagined it happening.

But something feels wrong.

Swimming back towards the shore, your heart pounds in your chest. You almost make it before you’re being pulled under completely.

You hold your breath but you’re losing air too quickly. Daring to look down, you see a creature with pitch black eyes and orange fins sticking out in every direction on its face. It smiles when your eyes meet, it’s mouth full of sharp teeth.

You scream. It won’t do any good beneath the water but you scream and thrash and try to kick your foot free from its grasp to no avail.

Looking up, the sun dances across the surface of the water in the most beautiful way. You’ve never taken the time to see it from this side of the water. And you suppose if this is how you have to die, there could be much worse views to have.

Losing too much air, your body begins to tire and your vision becomes blurry.

You hope that your father knows that you love him. Even if he kept so much from you, you know his intentions were to protect you. You miss him. You wish you could have the chance to invite him back to the vampire kingdom and see it properly.

You also hope that Hoseok won’t miss you too much. You hope Jungkook will take care of him and make sure he can still cook for Seokjin. You hope he knows how much he and his friendship means to you. You’d be so lost without him in this life.

How you wish you could have at least said goodbye to Jungkook. Tell him that you didn’t hate him if he didn’t already know. That you had started to warm up to the idea of living here with him for the rest of your days. That…kissing him was the single best feeling you’ve ever experienced. If the gods would let you live now you swear you’d tell him.

Your surroundings begin to fade and the last sliver of hope you held onto goes with it. The claws of the creature scratch at your skin and pull you farther down.

A loud crashing sound reverberates around you but you’re unable to open your eyes to see what it is. But what you can feel is the creature releasing you very suddenly. If only you had strength left to swim back up to the surface.

Strong familiar arms wrap around your waist, jerking your body and bringing you out of the water in an instant. Why can’t you open your eyes?

“_____. Look at me. Open your eyes right now.” You recognize Jungkook's voice as it floats into your ears. “Come on, my darling, look at me.”

Water suddenly fills your throat, making you twist to the side to spit it out, coughing and choking slightly. You gasp for air to fill your lungs again and your eyes finally open.

You turn back towards Jungkook.

“There you are, my queen.” Jungkook smiles, softly stroking your cheek. He’s holding you in his lap, an arm behind your head holding you upright.

“You saved me.” Your voice feels hoarse and scratchy.

“I do wish you wouldn’t go swimming with nymphs, darling.” He teases.

“Thank you.” You cup his cheek in your hand. But when you touch his skin, it’s not the usual cool temperature you’ve come to know. It’s burning hot and blisters are forming in places across his face and exposed arms.

“It’s okay…I’m okay.” Jungkook winces.

“Jungkook…what’s happening? What is it?” It takes your mind too long to catch up with the situation.

Jungkook is a vampire and he is outside in the sunlight.

“Shit. What should I do? How do I stop it?” Your body aches but you don’t care, you force yourself to sit up.

Jungkook's eyes roll to the back of his skull and he falls onto his back from his sitting position. Panic floods your veins like wildfire.

“Jungkook!” You scramble onto your knees, throwing yourself on top of him. You cover his body with yours to block out the sun the best that you can. “Seokjin!” You scream. “Please hurry!”

You pull Jungkook’s arms beneath you making sure they stay covered from the sun. His beautiful flawless skin is covered in burns and chars. Fuck…how do you make it stop?!

Seokjin comes over the hill in his wolf form, lifting his head up towards the sky and releasing a long howl. After, he rushes towards you, shifting to his human form right in front of you.

You heard his bones crack and watched as his fur disappeared and turned into perfect human skin.

“What’s going on!?” He demands.

“I was drowning…there was a nymph. Jungkook saved me but the sun…” You hadn’t realized that you had started to cry until just now when you tried to speak.

“We have to get him back inside immediately.” Jin states the obvious but you nod your head in agreement.

“As fast as your legs can take you. Please.” Your eyes meet Jins and he nods. Jungkook begins to shake beneath you, groaning in pain.

Seokjin shifts back to his wolf form, you move just enough to let him lay next to Jungkook and roll him onto Jin's back. The sun is starting to lower more but it’s still too much. Jungkooks fingers grip tightly into Jin's fur just before the wolf takes off at a dead sprint.

Your human legs and weak muscles from your near drowning don’t propel you quickly enough but you force them to move you back to the castle, shoving open the door and listening for any sign of where they have taken Jungkook.

Groans of pain take you to the right hallway where you find your husband laid out on the meeting room table, the other vampires scrambling to help him.

“Have one of the servants fetch a human donor right now!” Namjoon shouts at Yoongi.

“There’s no time for that! He’ll be dead before they return with one.” Yoongi tries to cover one of Jungkook's arms with a medicated towel, but he only screams.

“He can have mine. I’m right here.” You announce, ripping open the collar of your shirt to expose your throat as you walk towards the table.

“My lady…you don’t know what you’re doing.” Yoongi grabs your wrist to stop you.

“I’m the reason he’s dying, so let me do this for him now.” You gently touch his hand, you need him to let you go. Yoongi nods once before releasing you.

You climb onto the table where Jungkook is lying, his body shaking. You sit near his head, lifting it to settle in your lap.

“Jungkook…I need you to bite me, okay? You need my blood to get better.” You press a kiss to his forehead and hold your wrist to his mouth but he doesn’t bite you. “Jungkook…please.” You beg.

He moves his face away from your wrist each time you try to bring it near his mouth. His body still shakes, sweat soaking his white shirt as he lies there in pain.

“I’m asking you to. Jungkook, it’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” You hold your wrist to his mouth once more, hearing him groan before you finally feel the coolness of his lips press to your skin. “That’s it…go ahead.” He presses a very weak kiss to your skin in preparation for the bite that follows it.

You flinch at the sudden feeling of fangs piercing your skin. It’s foreign and strange. Jungkook moans and it makes your head swim. His hands come up to circle your wrist and hold it tighter to his mouth while he takes a long, fluid draw of your blood.

Each time he drinks, your veins fill with liquid fire. It’s too hot. You’re burning up. Tingles shooting from your nerves too many at a time.

You let your free hand come to Jungkook's hair, brushing it from his face and watching him. He is lust personified. Dark eyes practically flooded with red. His chest rises and falls rapidly while his tongue licks at your skin and catches any drop of your blood that tries to escape him. Deep rumbles of pleasure radiate from his chest.

You’ve never wanted someone so badly. You want him to touch you and feel you and taste. You want him here and there and everywhere. On top of you, beneath you, inside you. You want, want, want.

No, you need him.

“Jungkook…” Your voice sounds weak in your ears but you know he hears you.

“You’re fucking exquisite.” His voice is suddenly in your ear making you reach out to touch his body that’s made its way into your space.

“Are you…okay?” You focus on his face, seeing that the burns and chars have disappeared from his beautiful skin.

“Tell me how you feel…” His tongue is exploring your jaw and throat and you feel too much.

“I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t have you.” Your arms slide beneath his arms to hold him around his shoulders.

“How do you want me, darling? I’ll give you anything that you want.” His words slither into your ear and spread until they bloom between your legs.

You grab at the buttons of his shirt, ripping them open to expose a torso sculpted by the gods. All the dips and curves of muscle are begging to be licked by your tongue and stroked by your fingers.

Jungkook kisses his way from your ear to your jaw until he reaches your lips. Devouring your mouth with his own. He grabs your thighs and lifts you onto his hips, wrapping them around his waist.

“I want you so much.” You can barely get the words out between kisses and strokes of his tongue.

“Take what you want.. Every bit of me is yours” Jungkook drags his fangs across your jaw in the most enticing way.

“Your highness…” A voice that doesn’t belong to Jungkook says.

“What?!” Jungkook's firm body leaves you as he spins around, snarling at the person interrupting your moment of passion.

“You should clear your head and think about whether you really want to continue this…here.” You recognize the voice as Yoongi now that the fog in your mind has a moment to start lifting.

Jungkook whirls back around to look down at you, your shirt ripped open, blood covering your arm where he had drank from you. You are beautiful beyond words.

You watch as the heaving of his chest begins to slow and the deep brown of his eyes becomes more prominent than the red that was there just a moment ago. His hair is tousled and his mouth was stained from your blood. How was it possible to look like an angel and a demon all at once?

“I’m…I'm sorry.” He bends forward and cups your face in his hands. “Tell me that you’re okay?”

You try to catch your breath before you answer him, afraid that your voice will shake. The fog in your head lifts more and you suddenly don’t know what has come over you. You were ready to fuck the vampire king on the middle of the meeting room table in front of his most trusted friends.

You scramble away from Jungkook, pulling at your shirt to cover yourself from all of the eyes in the room.

“I can’t. I need…I should go.” You bite your bottom lip to try and keep the tears from falling.

“______, please don’t go. We should talk about what just took place. My bite…” Jungkook follows you off the table, grabbing your wrist.

“I cannot even look at you right now, your highness. Please let me go.” You don’t look at him, eyes instead meeting Jins as he stands in the doorway. His face shows concern and sympathy that you can barely stand to see.

“Don’t walk away.” Jungkook quietly begs.

You don’t answer him, you simply continue walking out of the meeting room, looking down at the floor the entire time to avoid any more looks from the others. You felt awkward and uncomfortable…but mostly humiliated.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, the oversized front doors of the castle swing open, a royal guard rushing inside.

“Your majesties.” The guard bows as Jungkook joins you in the foyer. You make sure to keep distance between the two of you.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asks the guard.

“He’s here, your highness.” The guard seems almost spooked.

“Who is here?” You question. Jungkook visibly stiffens as if he is on high alert.

“I can smell them.” Namjoon says, his deep voice making the hair on your arms stand at attention.

Suddenly Seokjin is changing into his wolf form, growling quietly as he comes to stand between you and the open doors in front of you. Your heart begins to beat too quickly as the pieces fall into place and you remember who it is that is arriving earlier than everyone thought he would be.

“I’m not going to tell you to hide away. I won’t do that ever again. But Taehyung is dangerous, a loose cannon at best. I won’t hesitate if he threatens you in any way.” Jungkook is in front of you now, desperation in his eyes as he waits for you to answer him.

“I’m ready. I promise.” You whisper the words and Jungkook nods, thankful that he doesn’t touch you like you thought that he would.

“Ready for what?” A deep, buttery voice that you don’t recognize says from the doorway. You had not even seen them approach. “How sweet of you all to greet us.”

You presume this man is Taehyung. His long, dark hair is half pulled back and his smile is intimidating and full of menace. The long cloak he wears is made of thick fur and drags the ground as he walks back and forth, his golden colored eyes landing on you.

“Have you come to discuss land or have you come to stare at my queen? Only one of those choices allows you to leave here alive, Taehyung.” Jungkook stands in front of you slightly and Jin lowers his head to snarl at Taehyung.

“So hostile and I’ve only been here for a moment.” Taehyung begins to walk in a circle around the three of you. “I suppose I can’t blame you for marrying a human when she looks the way this one does.” Those golden eyes flash and follow any move you make.

You can feel his eyes rake over you, your soaked pajamas doing nothing to hide you from him. There’s also blood slowly drying to your arm and to Jungkook’s mouth. You can’t even imagine what all of this must look like to these strangers.

“You’re pushing your luck already, Taehyung.” Jungkooks jaw is wound as tight as it can be.

“Fine then. You want to talk? Let’s talk.” Taehyung practically growls, scowling at Seokjin before he moves to spit at him. “Traitor.”

You’ve had enough.

You reach down to your thigh and yank your knife from its sheath, rushing between Taehyung and Seokjin who was starting to cower and whimper. You can see Taehyung's guards moving behind him but they’re too late, your blade is at their king's throat.

“You have a lot of nerve coming into his home and spitting at him. I should slice you from ear to ear for even thinking such a thing would be allowed.” You seethe through your teeth, watching as the menacing smile returns to Taehyung's face. He raises a hand in the air, signaling his guards to stop.

“_____…” Jungkooks says from behind you, his teeth clenched.

“My king?” One of the guards comes up closer behind Taehyung. He has one golden eye and one pitch black eye. He’s smaller in stature than the others, black hair that falls into his face and full lips pulled into a scowl.

“It’s quite alright, Jimin.” Taehyung puts both hands up when you tighten the blade against his skin. He looks at Jungkook over your shoulder. “Managed yourself a rather feisty one, didn’t you Jungkook?”

Jungkook snarls loudly, his chest pressing up against your back and an arm wrapping around your waist protectively.

“That’s enough! If you want to talk, I suggest you follow the king's advisor to the meeting room or these negotiations will be over before they’ve even begun.” You look at Namjoon, who is standing with his hand on his sword and a very large werewolf guard in front of him. He nods to you, straightening his stance.

“This way.” Namjoon says and you remove your blade from Taehyung's throat, letting Jungkook move you a few steps back and out of reach. Taehyung laughs quietly.

“It will be in your best interest that these negotiations go well, your highness.” Taehyung let’s Jimin stand in front of him now. You glare at the werewolf king, making sure he can see your distaste for anything that comes out of his mouth.

“We shall see, your highness.”

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #vampire jungkook #bts fic #jungkook smut #bts #jungkook #btsdreamcourt #btshoneyhive #btscarnivalnet #btscreatorscorner #bangtansorciere #52hertz #btswritersclub #bangtanarmynet #clubzerooclock #btswritingcafe #Spotify

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daechwitatamic · 2 years ago

Text

Faithful || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon) - thank you so much for the super fast turnaround on this!!!!)

Title: Faithful - a Complete Faith epilogue

WC: 3.7k

Warnings: explicit sex, kissing, language - minors DNI pls

The request/summary: Again, @pamzn is to blame for this. The request for the “cut-away” scene in Chapter 10 is here, as is the request for dinner with Taehyung’s lovingly nosy mom, and a few little scenes of where CF!Tae and OC end up.

Alternate Summary:

Note: I just want to say thank you to everyone who cared about these dummies with me along the way. :’) I appreciate your presence so much, and I hope my story brought you escape, peace, happiness - whatever you needed.

“Tae,” you start, “I want to apologize.” This gets his attention. He’s frowning, trying to figure out what you’ve done wrong. You continue, “I’m sorry for letting my fear be bigger than my trust. But I do trust you. I always did. I actually…”

You swallow, looking at the floor, then back at him. You have to be brave. It’s your turn to be brave. “Fuck, I actually love you. I’ve loved you since the lake. I think I’ve loved you since you threw a water bottle at me after we fought.”

You laugh a little, and he’s just looking at you, eyes still wide. You push on. Whatever happens, at least he’ll know.

“I remember you telling me that no one ever fought for you, no one made you feel like you’re worth the fight.” You spread your hands before you, like saying here I am. “I’m fighting. I want to be with you. I want to choose to trust you every day. I want to choose to love you every day.”

He’s pulling you by the wrist across the couch and into his lap, hands going for your face as soon as you’re close enough. You straddle him happily, heart soaring, pulse racing, as he kisses you again and again.

As you make your way into your room, still trying to kiss as you walk, you kick your bedroom door shut unceremoniously. There’s part of you that thinks you should maybe slow this down, talk things out a little more; you’d apologized, you’d climbed the hurdle and told Taehyung you love him - but what does it mean? Are you back together?

It doesn’t matter. It can’t matter, not now when his mouth is moving, hot and insistent, against your neck. Not now, when his hands are gripping your waist like he’s scared you’ll get tugged out of his grasp. Not now, when his forehead nudges your cheek, urging you to make more room for him in the crook of your neck, a happy, rumbling groan spilling from his throat.

The last time you’d kissed him, drunk on a dancefloor, it had felt like a bloody victory, like a hard-won battle littered with casualties. It was a moment tinged with darker glimmers - all the ugliness between you two, the guilt you carried at knowing you’d caused him pain, the ache of being without him, the uncertainty if it could mean anything beyond his mouth on yours. It had felt like: I’ve won, but at what cost? It felt like: I win, but as soon as it ends, I lose.

This time, it feels like coming home.

It feels like breaking the surface of water after holding your breath just a few strained moments too long.

It feels like the first moment of reprieve when you step inside out of a rainstorm, when the peppering of cold droplets and bite of battering wind suddenly stop, and even though you’re still cold and damp, it still feels so much better than it did a second ago.

You can’t decide what you want to do with your hands; they cup his face, tug his hair, hold fast to his biceps, sneak under the hem of his shirt. You want to touch all of him at once. You want to memorize what each centimeter of him feels like under your fingertips just in case you ever have to miss him again.

His shirt is off, somehow. You don’t notice a pause in the kissing when it happens. Your fingers skin the flat of his belly and he shudders, squirms.

You’re still in the clothes you wore to work - you haven’t been home to change. Taehyung works his way back up your throat, teeth grazing just slightly - enough to raise goosebumps along your arm. He kisses you again, insistent still. He kisses you like he’s asking for more, every time. Kiss me more. Kiss me harder.

He straightens and goes for the buttons of your blouse, eyes steady on yours. You look back at him evenly, drinking him in. You can’t believe how beautiful he is, sometimes. You can’t believe you get to claim him. You can’t believe he wants to claim you.

Your shirt and bra join Taehyung’s shirt on the ground. You both step over them, towards your bed. Taehyung’s large hands splay over your ribs, fingers settling naturally in the gaps between bones, like he’s trying to sink between them, finding the fastest route to your heart.

He presses his forehead to yours, inhales, holds his breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers on the exhale. His fingers twitch against your ribcage. He shifts on his feet, presses his head more firmly against yours. “I’m so sorry for all of it.”

“Tell me after,” you murmur, fingers playing with the waistband of his sweatpants. “Wait until after, and we can both say how sorry we are.”

His hands leave your ribs to roam lovingly across your back, to tug you closer by your waist as he kisses you again. The empty spaces he leaves behind feel cold in his absence.

You experience a moment of deja vu as he unbuttons your black slacks, slides the zipper down, uses both hands to guide the waistband over the curve of your ass, leaving you only in a not-cute pair of underwear, since you hadn’t seen this coming at all when you got dressed for work that morning. Taehyung doesn’t seem to care, or even notice; he’s too busy running his busy fingers over all the parts of you he’s missed for the last few months - gripping your thighs, rubbing along your ass, slipping through the slickness seeping through the cotton of your panties, pressing just so over your clit, the way he remembers you like it, earning a hopeful, eager moan from you.

The deja vu because it feels a lot like your first time with him, after the first date he took you on. He’d been slow with you that night, eyes seeking yours constantly, checking for any sign that you weren’t enjoying something, or if you felt uncomfortable in any way.

It had been an appreciated but wasted effort on his part; you wanted all of it, all of him, every touch, every sound, every look.

It’s the same tonight. He’s being careful with you, and you don’t want careful.

Tonight, you’re burning, filled with an inferno - your confession and the months you’d spent painfully apart acting as accelerants. You can’t wait; it’s all on fire already.

“Touch me,” you beg him, and he gasps against your mouth as you continue. “Please, Taehyung, please touch me.”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he teases, fingers pressing into your ass. You let him guide your hips forward, into his. You press against him needily, provocating. His sweatpants hide nothing, not the heat of him, nor the wet circle where his tip must be leaking.

“Don’t tease,” you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes, pressing even more insistently against him, as if you can entice him into doing what you want just from proximity and friction.

Maybe you can. He lowers his mouth to yours again, reaching down as he does to push his remaining clothing over his hips and down his legs. The movement sends you backwards towards the bed, the kiss breaking, and you let your back meet the mattress, scooting back to make room. Taehyung crawls over top of you and hooks his thumbs under the waistband of your panties, pulling them away and adding them to the mess on the floor.

Your heart pounds in your stomach as sheer want courses through you. Taehyung’s body along yours feels divine - even the most mundane parts. Even his bare legs against your legs, even his stomach touching your stomach. Every part of him looks like sin, even his arms as they cage you in from above, even the little curve of his ass.

“Please,” you whisper again, because you need him now. You’ve never needed anybody or anything this much in your life. He reaches between your legs, those happy grumbles still falling from his lips as he lightly scrapes his teeth along your jawline, but you make a discontented noise. He pulls back, looking at you quizzically, hand stilling in place.

“What’s wrong?” he breathes, eyes combing over you, trying to decide if he’d hurt you somehow.

“I don’t need that - I want you - please.” You can’t finish a thought, you can’t make sentences. You just want him, you want him as close as he can be, you want to feel him inside and out, you want to forget who and where you are and become only aware of the stretch and friction he gives you, only aware of his body beneath each desperately clinging fingertip.

He understands. He always does. When he enters you, slowly but unfalteringly, you groan - low and loud and broken. The noise drowns out the hiss he releases from between his teeth.

“Baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out, hips flush with yours. You shift minutely, trying to take him just a little deeper, gasping at the sensation when you succeed. He stills, holding himself over you, and you meet his eyes. They swim with something you can’t name, roving over your face.

This is what you wanted, what you were burning for. You reach up, brush his hair away from his eyes, slip your hand along his cheek. He closes his eyes at the touch, leaning into it, just a little. Then he’s lowering himself, burying his face in the crook of your neck, and sliding out of you only to slam back in hard enough to make you cry out.

You lose yourself in feelings and sounds - his body solid under your searching hands, his stomach muscles rippling as he keeps a quick pace, his breaths coming out in stutters and stops, breathy little whines punctuating each exhale. Your legs shake as the tide of pleasure pulls tighter and tighter in the base of your belly, tingles surging down your legs and settling in your toes as you meet him stroke for stroke.

Then, abruptly, his quick pace disappears. He slows, each stroke purposeful, ending each thrust with a little extra push. His arms come tighter around your shoulders, his forehead drops to yours. He presses all of himself to you and you revel in it, drown in his heart racing against your own rib cage, sink beneath the feeling of each teeth-chattering thrust, cling desperately to his biceps as if they are the only thing tethering you to this earth.

The sensations and feelings swim together, a vortex of happiness and pleasure both. You’re overwhelmed with it - the joy of having him again, at the way he’s cradling you between his arms so carefully, the surge in your chest that screams I love him I love him I love him and the fact that you no longer feel the need to hide that scream away.

As if he can read your mind, Taehyung noses closer to your ear and whispers, “God, I love you.” The words are followed by a shuddering breath as he buries himself as far inside you as he can reach. “I have for - Y/N, I -”

“I know,” you whisper, reaching up to kiss him again. He rests his weight on one elbow and cups your face with the other, hips stilling. You break the kiss, smiling sheepishly. “Is it bad to say it for the first time while we’re fucking?”

“I don’t care,” he laughs on an exhale. Without warning, he scoops one arm under your waist, adjusting the angle and starting a bruising pace that makes you clench your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut. Your response to him comes out in shattered syllables, caught up in a web of moans and gasps. When you come unraveled moments later, his name leaves your mouth in a single, drawn-out breath, your eyes rolling back as your muscles all go taut. He fucks you through it, each breath he lets out just a little more desperate than the one before as his rhythm jumps and stumbles.

“Fuck, baby! I’m -” he warns you, and you hold him tighter, whisper praises and coaxes, urging him on. He comes with a shout, throwing his head back, eyes screwed shut, a deep flush working its way up his chest.

He drops next to you, panting, and you stretch to kiss him again. He weaves his fingers through your hair, kissing you sweetly.

“I’ve been trying to tell you since the beginning, Y/N,” he tells you, when you pull away, looking at him with stars in your eyes. “It’s different with you. It’s been different with you the whole time. I’ve been in love with you since before you were even available. I never doubted for a minute that we could make it.”

“Complete faith,” you murmur. “You had complete faith.”

“From day one,” he agrees, and kisses you again.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Mrs. Kim says lightly, reaching for her glass of water. Across the dinner table, Taehyung shakes his head at his mother’s predictability. He knows exactly what’s coming. Honestly, he can’t believe she waited two weeks to broach the topic. “How is Y/N? Have you spoken to her much since the day she came to help you?”

Taehyung’s been in this position too many times - his mother keeping her eyes mostly on her plate, shooting him furtive little glances, her tone hopeful despite her deepest efforts to school it into mild interest, hoping this time her baby boy will give her news she’s wanted for him. His father eats silently, letting his wife pry. And Taehyung - usually - starts dancing around questions, answering without answering, diverting and redirecting conversation like it’s what he was born to do.

Ah, she works with me, of course we’ve talked. It’s right on this tip of his tongue.

Normally, he wants to avoid the fifty questions. Normally, he doesn’t want to see any spark of hope on his mother’s face. Because he knows - he always knows it isn’t what she hopes it is.

But, this time. This time, it could be.

What would be the harm in being honest, this time? Taehyung knows he isn’t going anywhere - and neither are you, not again. Not after you both waded through rushing currents to get here. Not after you fought back against everything you ever learned about how to be loved and learned a new way, for him.

“We’ve talked,” Taehyung says, heart racing. This confession feels bigger, heavier, than telling you he loved you. Telling his family was somehow harder, way more frightening. “We’re… we’re kind of dating.”

“Kind of,” his father echoes with a scoff. “Say what you mean, Taehyung.”

Taehyung straightens in his chair. “We’re dating,” he clarifies, as asked. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Taehyung!” Mrs. Kim cries, clasping her hands together. “You’ve never -!”

“I know, I know,” Taehyung grumbles, feeling himself flushing.

“How long has it been…” Mrs. Kim pauses, hunting for the word she wants. “Official?”

Taehyung sighs good-naturedly. “Since the day we brought you to the hospital together,” he admits.

“Is it serious?” his father asks, and Taehyung almost drops his glass. His mother interrogates him about who he’s dating; his father acts indifferent and gets all the gossip later from his wife.

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, shell-shocked straight into honesty. “It’s pretty serious. We dated… most of the summer. We spent some time apart in the fall, but… we worked it out.”

Mrs. Kim says nothing, which is frankly alarming. Taehyung peers at her closely, noticing some color on her face, a pinched, emotional look taking over her features.

“Ah, Mom,” he scolds, standing and picking up his empty plate. He heads towards the kitchen to rinse it, giving her a reassuring shoulder pat on his way by. He thinks it’s over, but when she hugs him goodbye on his way to his car at the end of the night, she holds him in place and whispers, “I’m so happy. She seems so wonderful for you.”

“She’s okay,” Taehyung says, half-teasing, and Mrs. Kim swats at his arm.

“We’d love to have her for dinner sometime,” she says carefully. “When you’re ready.”

“Okay,” Taehyung says. “When we’re ready.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

On the other side of the altar, Taehyung’s eyes crinkle shut as he grins, his smile taking up his whole face. You feel your own heart swell, as Nikki presses her lips to Seokjin’s and their friends and family cheer heartily.

Later, on the dance floor, he holds you close as you sway together to a slow song, leading you in lazy circles.

Not many couples join you dancing; it’s late in the night, and everyone’s energy has started to flag. It gives you some privacy as you lean your weight against Taehyung, resting your head against his chest, listening to his heart. It’s one of your favorite things to do.

And, as such, you notice something - his heart is beating fast. You lift your head again, peering at him carefully.

“You okay?” you ask gently. He meets your eyes, instantly looking caught, maybe a little guilty. He clutches your hand a little tighter and spins you in a new direction, as if he can dance away from the question. “Taehyung?” you prod.

He sighs, looks determinedly over your shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about something,” he admits finally. He notices your alarm and quickly adds, “Nothing bad!”

“O-kay,” you say slowly. The song you were dancing to ends, and Taehyung leads you to the edge of the dancefloor. “Want to get some air together?” you ask him. Despite his assurances, you still feel anxious. Taehyung doesn’t get like this - nervous. Not with you.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. His wavy hair bounces with the motion.

Outside, a long, sloping lawn leads to a line of trees. You know the river runs beyond them, and you can see the bridge lit up in the distance. The air is chilly, summer not fully in bloom just yet.

“What’s going on?” you ask. “Talk to me, Taehyung.”

He sighs, reaches for your hands. “I’ve been thinking…” he says finally, “and I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it.”

“You’ve got to just spit it out,” you beg him. “You’re scaring the crap out of me.”

He smiles ruefully, gives both of your hands a squeeze. He licks his lips nervously and tries again. “I’ve been thinking about… living together.”

You freeze, leaning back a little to look at him.

He hurries to continue. “If you don’t want to join me at my place, we could do yours. Or we could look for a new place together. Or if you don’t feel ready, it’s okay, we don’t have to, we can wait -”

“Your place has my nook,” you say, cutting off his nervous babbling. He shuts his mouth with a snap, looking at you with widened eyes.

“You - it - what?” he manages.

You say it again, calmly, though your heart beats against your sternum so hard it almost hurts. “My quiet-morning-time nook. It’s at your place. And you’ve got the balcony.”

“So…” He’s still looking at you, wide-eyed. “So, you want to? You’ll move in with me?”

You grin at him, suddenly so happy you want to hop around. “Yeah,” you tell him, still grinning. “Yeah, I want to.”

He kisses you hard, one hand coming to the base of your neck. You kiss him back happily, lips still trying to smile even as you give them other directions.

“Taehyung!” you bellow, bending down to pick up the small pile of dirty clothes from your bedroom floor. “If your clothes can make it next to the hamper, then your clothes can make it into the hamper!”

“Don’t yell!” he calls back from the living room. “You’ll upset the baby!”

You enter the living room, playfully scowling, arms crossed.

“I’m not a baby,” Sierra grouses, not looking away from the tv screen. A white controller is in her hands, her fingers working the control deftly. Beside her, Taehyung’s hands do the same on his own controller.

You sink down beside them, careful not to block the screen - they’re scary when they gang up on you.

“Mom’s almost here,” you tell Sierra, after checking your messages on your phone. “Last round, okay?”

“Yeah,” she grunts. “I kicked his ass anyway.”

“Hey!” Taehyung objects loudly, as you add, “Don’t swear, Sierra.”

“You swear,” she points out. “And Taehyung swears.”

You narrow your eyes at him, accusing. Over Sierra’s head, he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Sometimes more than others,” he says saucily, and you whack him with a pillow. Sierra shrieks that you made her lose right as the round ends.

After you escort Sierra downstairs to your mom’s waiting car, you join Taehyung on the balcony. The sun is setting, casting everything in an orange tint. It reminds you of the night you ended things, right here, right as the sun set. The memory still hurts, a little, but it’s made better by the knowledge that it led you and Taehyung to this: your life together, the ability to have lazy evenings and hurried mornings together, the people you love around you. Contentment. Stability. Him.

“Nikki and Jin want us to come to the restaurant,” you tell Taehyung, eyes on your phone screen. “You up for it?”

He shrugs easily. “Why not? I’ll text Jimin.”

You sit beside him, resting your head on his shoulder, and feel the peace of the moment. He turns and gives the top of your head a kiss as he waits for Jimin’s answer to come in.

Sometimes you wish you could go back in time to your past self, tell her to shake free of Ben sooner, tell her to give Taehyung a fair chance, tell her not to walk away from him and the love he’s ready to give you. But mostly, you think as he reaches an arm over your shoulders, you want to tell her that it’ll all be fine in the end - she just has to hang in there.

She just has to have faith.

#complete faith fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #bts x reader

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istumpysk · 2 years ago

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: The Wayward Bride (Asha I) [Chapter 26]

Asha Greyjoy was seated in Galbart Glover's longhall drinking Galbart Glover's wine when Galbart Glover's maester brought the letter to her.

The Greyjoys always tell on themselves.

Same chapter:

"Asha of House Greyjoy. This is my castle."

+.+.+

And that seal … the Boltons of the Dreadfort went into battle beneath pink banners spattered with little drops of blood. It only stood to reason that they would use pink sealing wax as well.

This is poison that I hold, she thought. I ought to burn it. Instead she cracked the seal. A scrap of leather fluttered down into her lap. When she read the dry brown words, her black mood grew blacker still. Dark wings, dark words. The ravens never brought glad tidings. The last message sent to Deepwood had been from Stannis Baratheon, demanding homage. This was worse. "The northmen have taken Moat Cailin."

"The Bastard of Bolton?" asked Qarl, beside her.

"Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell, he signs himself. But there are other names as well." Lady Dustin, Lady Cerwyn, and four Ryswells had appended their own signatures beneath his. Beside them was drawn a crude giant, the mark of some Umber.

Those were done in maester's ink, made of soot and coal tar, but the message above was scrawled in brown in a huge, spiky hand.

We have to focus on the huge, spiky hand.

That same handwriting is present when Jon receives his first letter from Ramsay.

Ramsay Bolton, Lord of the Hornwood, it read, in a huge, spiky hand. - Jon VI, ADWD

But huge, spiky hand is never mentioned when Jon receives the Pink Letter, so many have speculated Ramsay didn't write it.

However I would argue huge, spiky hand is implied.

The wildling gave the letter a dubious look and handed it right back. "Feels nasty … but Tormund Thunderfist had better things to do than learn to make papers talk at him. They never have any good to say, now do they?" - Jon XIII, ADWD

Tormund can't read, what's making him think the letter feels nasty?

+.+.+

It spoke of the fall of Moat Cailin, of the triumphant return of the Warden of the North to his domains, of a marriage soon to be made. The first words were, "I write this letter in the blood of ironmen," the last, "I send you each a piece of prince. Linger in my lands, and share his fate."

Asha had believed her little brother dead. Better dead than this. The scrap of skin had fallen into her lap.

Asha learns Theon is alive, which is important for later.

+.+.+

Whether Sybelle Glover would find any joy in the fall of Moat Cailin, Asha could not say. Lady Sybelle all but lived in her godswood, praying for her children and her husband's safe return. Another prayer like to go unanswered. Her heart tree is as deaf and blind as our Drowned God. Robett Glover and his brother Galbart had ridden south with the Young Wolf. If the tales they had heard of the Red Wedding were even half-true, they were not like to ride north again. Her children are alive, at least, and that is thanks to me. Asha had left them at Ten Towers in the care of her aunts. Lady Sybelle's infant daughter was still on the breast, and she had judged the girl too delicate to expose to the rigors of another stormy crossing.

Unreliable narrator Asha Greyjoy.

Her young children would also be alive and with her if you hadn't claimed their castle.

+.+.+

"Euron has no interest in Balon's conquests. My nuncle's off chasing dragons." The Crow's Eye had summoned all the strength of the Iron Isles to Old Wyk and sailed out into the deepness of the Sunset Sea, with his brother Victarion following behind like a whipped cur.

Lmao.

Forgive me, Vicky.

+.+.+

"We should go to Torrhen's Square and join the fight," urged Quenton Greyjoy, a distant cousin and captain of the Salty Wench.

Somehow I knew he was going to be dead by the end of this chapter.

+.+.+

Asha had four longships and not quite two hundred men … including Tristifer Botley, who could not be relied on. For all his talk of love, she could not imagine Tris rushing off to Torrhen's Square to die with Dagmer Cleftjaw.

Numbers update!

Asha has 4 longships.

Asha has 200 men.

I don't know how many men are still alive after this chapter.

And those ships are anchored on the western coast of the north. Unless there's a mission involving the Shadow Tower, the Frostfangs, or Bear Island, they're not terribly useful.

+.+.+

"I'd sooner fuck you." One quick slash unlaced her jerkin. Asha reached for her axe, but Qarl dropped his knife and caught her wrist, twisting back her arm until the weapon fell from her fingers. He pushed her back onto Glover's bed, kissed her hard, and tore off her tunic to let her breasts spill out. When she tried to knee him in the groin, he twisted away and forced her legs apart with his knees. "I'll have you now."

"Do it," she spat, "and I'll kill you in your sleep."

George would call this consensual love making.

+.+.+

She was sopping wet when he entered her. "Damn you," she said. "Damn you damn you damn you." He sucked her nipples till she cried out half in pain and half in pleasure. Her cunt became the world. She forgot Moat Cailin and Ramsay Bolton and his little piece of skin, forgot the kingsmoot, forgot her failure, forgot her exile and her enemies and her husband. Only his hands mattered, only his mouth, only his arms around her, his cock inside her. He fucked her till she screamed, and then again until she wept, before he finally spent his seed inside her womb.

[...]

She liked the feel of his smooth, soft skin beneath her fingers. She liked the way his long, straight hair brushed against his shoulders. She liked the way he kissed. She liked how he grinned when she brushed her thumbs across his nipples. The hair between his legs was a darker shade of sand than the hair on his head, but fine as down compared to the coarse black bush around her own sex. She liked that too. He had a swimmer's body, long and lean, with not a scar upon him.

[...]

Drunk, smiling, she crawled beneath the furs and took him in her mouth. Qarl stirred in his sleep, and after a moment he began to stiffen. By the time she had him hard again, he was awake and she was wet. Asha draped the furs across her bare shoulders and mounted him, drawing him so deep inside her that she could not tell who had the cock and who the cunt. This time the two of them reached their peak together.

why

+.+.+

The room was cold. Asha rose from Galbart Glover's bed and took off her torn clothes. The jerkin would need fresh laces, but her tunic was ruined. I never liked it anyway. She tossed it on the flames. The rest she left in a puddle by the bed. Her breasts were sore, and Qarl's seed was trickling down her thigh. She would need to brew some moon tea or risk bringing another kraken into the world.

This never happens. . .

+.+.+

A shy smile, strong arms, clever fingers, and two sure swords. What more could any woman want? She would have married Qarl, and gladly, but she was Lord Balon's daughter and he was common-born, the grandson of a thrall. Too lowborn for me to wed, but not too low for me to suck his cock.

If he knocked you up, you can make him your salt wife.

+.+.+

"My sweet lady," he murmured after, in a voice still thick with sleep. "My sweet queen."

No, Asha thought, I am no queen, nor shall I ever be.

We're still trying to figure that one out, Asha.

'Sweet lady' is almost exclusively reserved for Sansa and Catelyn in this story, but I think it would be a stretch to suggest the above has anything to do with Sansa.

+.+.+

To east and west were empty fields. Oats and barley had been growing there when Asha took the castle, only to be crushed underfoot during her attack. A series of hard frosts had killed the crops they'd planted afterward, leaving only mud and ash and wilted, rotting stalks.

+.+.+

It was an old castle, but not a strong one. She had taken it from the Glovers, and the Bastard of Bolton would take it from her. He would not flay her, though. Asha Greyjoy did not intend to be taken alive. She would die as she had lived, with an axe in her hand and a laugh upon her lips.

I respect it, Cersei.

+.+.+

If anyone fled, it was me. The memory still shamed her.

[...]

"If I stand with my other uncles …"

"… you will die outcast, with every hand against you. When you put your name before the captains you submitted yourself to their judgment. You cannot go against that judgment now. Only once has the choice of a kingsmoot been overthrown. Read Haereg."

Only Rodrik the Reader would talk of some old book whilst their lives were balanced on a sword's edge. "If you are staying, so am I," she told him stubbornly.

"A book can be as dangerous as a sword in the right hands," said Haldon. - Tyrion IV, ADWD

Rodrik the Reader will save the world.

There might be clever wordplay happening above, see if you can catch it.

+.+.+

"Don't be a fool. Euron shows the world his smiling eye tonight, but come the morrow … Asha, you are Balon's daughter, and your claim is stronger than his own. So long as you draw breath you remain a danger to him. If you stay, you will be killed or wed to the Red Oarsman. I don't know which would be worse. Go. You will not have another chance."

Is this about Euron or someone else? Why not both!

+.+.+

Asha was still at Ten Towers taking on provisions when the tidings of her marriage reached her. "My wayward niece needs taming," the Crow's Eye was reported to have said, "and I know the man to tame her." He had married her to Erik Ironmaker and named the Anvil-Breaker to rule the Iron Islands whilst he was chasing dragons.

[...]

She had to pay her nuncle his just due. With one stroke, Euron had turned a rival into a supporter, secured the isles in his absence, and removed Asha as a threat. And enjoyed a good belly laugh too. Tris Botley said that the Crow's Eye had used a seal to stand in for her at her wedding. "I hope Erik did not insist on a consummation," she'd said.

Lol, how can you not love Euron?

Arya fans like to use this proxy wedding to support their belief that Arya is Lady of Winterfell. Nobody tell them this is a different religion, and that's the dumbest thing anyone has ever said.

+.+.+

The sound of the waves washing against a rocky shore was in her blood, but there were no waves at Deepwood Motte … only the trees, the endless trees, soldier pines and sentinels, beech and ash and ancient oaks, chestnut trees and ironwoods and firs. The sound they made was softer than the sea, and she heard it only when the wind was blowing; then the sighing seemed to come from all around her, as if the trees were whispering to one another in some language that she could not understand.

Tonight the whispering seemed louder than before. A rush of dead brown leaves, Asha told herself, bare branches creaking in the wind.

BRAN?!

+.+.+

"It's not food I want, my lady. You know that." Tris had grown himself a thick brown beard at Deepwood. He claimed it helped to keep his face warm.

Yeah, I bet that's why.

Qarl pleased her more than all the rest together. He might shave but once a fortnight, but a shaggy beard does not make a man. - The Wayward Bride, ADWD

You ever notice there's numerous love triangles that feature one spurned man, who isn't wanted by the girl? :)

+.+.+

"Would you have me run?"

"I would have you live. I love you."

No, she thought, you love some innocent maiden who lives only in your head, a frightened child in need of your protection. "I do not love you," she said bluntly, "and I do not run."

Be fair Asha, I'm sure there's many men who fantasize about these things, whether they admit it or not.

+.+.+

"I have hostages, on Harlaw," she reminded him. "And there is still Sea Dragon Point … if I cannot have my father's kingdom, why not make one of my own?" Sea Dragon Point had not always been as thinly peopled as it was now. Old ruins could still be found amongst its hills and bogs, the remains of ancient strongholds of the First Men. In the high places, there were weirwood circles left by the children of the forest.

What a weird insertion that was.

Why in the world would a Greyjoy who worships a Drowned God mention that?

+.+.+

"You are clinging to Sea Dragon Point the way a drowning man clings to a bit of wreckage. What does Sea Dragon have that anyone could ever want? There are no mines, no gold, no silver, not even tin or iron. The land is too wet for wheat or corn."

I do not plan on planting wheat or corn.

Please learn to sow. Don't doom yourself like the other one.

+.+.+

"Do you know what I think?"

"I am about to, I suspect."

"I think the Damphair's dead. I think the Crow's Eye slit his throat for him. Ironmaker's search is just to make us believe the priest escaped. Euron is afraid to be seen as a kinslayer."

"Never let my nuncle hear you say that. Tell the Crow's Eye he's afraid of kinslaying, and he'll murder one of his own sons just to prove you wrong."

She's right, he does not care.

"Not even you would dare," said the Damphair. "I am your brother. No man is more accursed than the kinslayer."

"And yet I wear a crown and you rot in chains. How is it that your Drowned God allows that when I have killed three brothers?" - The Forsaken, TWOW

He ties Dam-phair to the prow of his ship for everyone to see. Is he really worried about appearances?

+.+.+

"Even if you did find your uncle Damphair, the two of you would fail. You were both part of the kingsmoot, so you cannot say it was unlawful called, as Torgon did. You are bound to its decision by all the laws of gods and men. You—"

Asha frowned. "Wait. Torgon? Which Torgon?"

"Torgon the Latecomer."

"He was a king during the Age of Heroes." She recalled that much about him, but little else. "What of him?"

"Torgon Greyiron was the king's eldest son. But the king was old and Torgon restless, so it happened that when his father died he was raiding along the Mander from his stronghold on Greyshield. His brothers sent no word to him but instead quickly called a kingsmoot, thinking that one of them would be chosen to wear the driftwood crown. But the captains and the kings chose Urragon Goodbrother to rule instead. The first thing the new king did was command that all the sons of the old king be put to death, and so they were. After that men called him Badbrother, though in truth they'd been no kin of his. He ruled for almost two years."

Asha remembered now. "Torgon came home …"

"… and said the kingsmoot was unlawful since he had not been there to make his claim. Badbrother had proved to be as mean as he was cruel and had few friends left upon the isles. The priests denounced him, the lords rose against him, and his own captains hacked him into pieces. Torgon the Latecomer became the king and ruled for forty years."

Asha took Tris Botley by the ears and kissed him full upon the lips.

Well looky here.

Asha learns Theon is alive, and then we get this. The one time a kingsmoot was overthrown, it was because the king's eldest son Torgon wasn't present. Urr(Eur)agon the Badbrother was chosen instead.

There's only one way to interpret that, but I think the author might be playing tricks.

Only once has the choice of a kingsmoot been overthrown. Read Haereg.

Red herring.

I'm sorry, there isn't an ironborn alive who would look at Theon and think he's king material. This version, or the one from ACOK.

+.+.+

She broke off suddenly. When Tris tried to speak, she shushed him, listening. "That's a warhorn. Hagen."

[...]

"Cromm and Hagen saw them coming over the wall," Grimtongue explained.

"Just these two?" asked Asha.

"Five. We killed two before they could get over, and Harl slew another on the wallwalk. These two made it to the yard."

[...]

"How many more?" she said. "Tell me, or I'll make your dying last until the dawn."

"Many," he finally sobbed, between screams. "Thousands. Three thousand, four … aieeee … please …"

Numbers update!

Stannis has 3000-4000 men.

Stannis had come north with no more than fifteen hundred men - Davos III, ADWD

1500-2500 of those men are the mountain clans, and we desperately need most of them to survive his downfall.

+.+.+

Galbart Glover's maester had claimed the mountain clans were too quarrelsome to ever band together without a Stark to lead them. He might not have been lying. He might just have been wrong.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but we'll later learn the mountain clans are only helping Stannis to restore Stark rule, yes?

+.+.+

The maester pushed forward, with blood dripping from a broken nose. "Lady Asha, I beg you, strike your banners and let me bargain for your life. You have used us fairly, and with honor. I will tell them so."

"We will exchange you for the children." Sybelle Glover's eyes were red, from tears and sleepless nights. "Gawen is four now. I missed his nameday. And my sweet girl … give me back my children, and no harm need come to you. Nor to your men."

The last part was a lie, Asha knew. She might be exchanged, perhaps, shipped back to the Iron Islands to her husband's loving arms. Her cousins would be ransomed too, as would Tris Botley and a few more of her company, those whose kin had coin enough to buy them back. For the rest it would be the axe, the noose, or the Wall. Still, they have the right to choose.

All I can think about is Theon.

"I do not speak of running. Take the black."

"The Night's Watch?" Theon let the bow unbend slowly and pointed the arrow at the ground.

"Ser Rodrik has served House Stark all his life, and House Stark has always been a friend to the Watch. He will not deny you. Open your gates, lay down your arms, accept his terms, and he must let you take the black."

A brother of the Night's Watch. It meant no crown, no sons, no wife . . . but it meant life, and life with honor. Ned Stark's own brother had chosen the Watch, and Jon Snow as well.

I have black garb aplenty, once I tear the krakens off. Even my horse is black. I could rise high in the Watch—chief of rangers, likely even Lord Commander. Let Asha keep the bloody islands, they're as dreary as she is. If I served at Eastwatch, I could command my own ship, and there's fine hunting beyond the Wall. As for women, what wildling woman wouldn't want a prince in her bed? A slow smile crept across his face. A black cloak can't be turned. I'd be as good as any man . . . - Theon VI, ACOK

+.+.+

The wooden watchtower was the tallest thing this side of the mountains, rising twenty feet above the biggest sentinels and soldier pines in the surrounding woods. "There, Captain," said Cromm, when she made the platform. Asha saw only trees and shadows, the moonlit hills and the snowy peaks beyond. Then she realized that trees were creeping closer. "Oho," she laughed, "these mountain goats have cloaked themselves in pine boughs." The woods were on the move, creeping toward the castle like a slow green tide.

This is so cool. I want to see the crannogmen fight next.

+.+.+

She thought back to a tale she had heard as a child, about the children of the forest and their battles with the First Men, when the greenseers turned the trees to warriors.

Yo, the trees are warriors!

Everything turned inside out and upside down, and Bran found himself back inside his own skin, half-buried in the snow. The burning wight loomed over him, etched tall against the trees in their snowy shrouds. It was one of the naked ones, Bran saw, in the instant before the nearest tree shook off the snow that covered it and dropped it all down upon his head.

[...]

"The snow," Bran said. "It fell on me. Buried me."

"Hid you. I pulled you out." Meera nodded at the girl. - Bran II, ADWD

Kill Melisandre. Do it.

+.+.+

"We cannot fight so many," Tris Botley said.

"We can fight as many as come, pup," insisted Cromm. "The more there are, the more the glory. Men will sing of us."

Aye, but will they sing of your courage or my folly?

She knows the answer to that.

+.+.+

Asha was not ready to die, not here, not yet. "A living man can find the sea more easily than a dead one. Let the wolves keep their gloomy woods. We are making for the ships."

Smart girl.

Greyjoys being adamant they must die near water is my favourite thing.

+.+.+

From beyond Deepwood's mossy wooden walls came the sudden sound of trumpets.

Trumpets? Wolves with trumpets? That was wrong, but Asha had no time to ponder it.

Here comes the loser with his trumpet to ruin a fun stealth mission.

+.+.+

As Hagen came scrambling down the watchtower steps, a wolfling's arrow caught him in the belly and sent him plunging headfirst to the ground. His daughter ran to him, wailing. "Bring her," Asha commanded. This was no time for mourning. Rolfe the Dwarf pulled the girl onto his horse, her red hair flying.

I don't know what to make of this red-headed girl.

+.+.+

Deepwood was aptly named. The trees were huge and dark, somehow threatening. Their limbs wove through one another and creaked with every breath of wind, and their higher branches scratched at the face of the moon. The sooner we are shut of here, the better I will like it, Asha thought. The trees hate us all, deep in their wooden hearts.

[...]

After the scouts had vanished into the trees, the rest of the ironborn resumed their march, but the going was slow. The trees hid the moon and stars from them, and the forest floor beneath their feet was black and treacherous.

[...]

Asha cursed beneath her breath, wondering if it had been a mistake to leave the castle. No. If we had stayed and fought, we might all be dead by now. But it was no good blundering on through the dark either. These trees will kill us if they can.

THIS SHOULD BE STANNIS.

Stannis should have to fight threatening trees! It's not fair he gets to weaponize them! Where's the justice!

+.+.+

Hagen's red-haired daughter seized Tris Botley by the hand to draw him off into the trees. When he refused her, she went off with Six-Toed Harl instead.

Would that I could do the same. It would be sweet to lose herself in Qarl's arms one last time.

Sex before the final battle is a classic trope, but this is a little out there.

+.+.+

Something flew from the brush to land with a soft thump in their midst, bumping and bouncing. It was round and dark and wet, with long hair that whipped about it as it rolled. When it came to rest amongst the roots of an oak, Grimtongue said, "Rolfe the Dwarf's not so tall as he once was." Half her men were on their feet by then, reaching for shields and spears and axes. They lit no torches either, Asha had time enough to think, and they know these woods better than we ever could. Then the trees erupted all around them, and the northmen poured in howling. Wolves, she thought, they howl like bloody wolves. The war cry of the north.

[...]

"Seven," shouted Grimtongue, but beside him Lorren Longaxe sprawled with one leg twisted under him, and the shadows kept on coming, shouting and rustling. We are fighting shrubbery, Asha thought as she slew a man who had more leaves on him than most of the surrounding trees. That made her laugh.

I'm so bitter the author wasted this on Asha instead of Stannis.

+.+.+

Behind her Grimtongue shouted, "Nine, and damn you all." Hagen's daughter burst naked from beneath the trees with two wolves at her heels. Asha wrenched loose a throwing axe and sent it flying end over end to take one of them in the back. When he fell, Hagen's daughter stumbled to her knees, snatched up his sword, stabbed the second man, then rose again, smeared with blood and mud, her long red hair unbound, and plunged into the fight.

This girl is ruining the immersion.

+.+.+

The world went red and black and red again. Pain crackled up her leg like lightning, and far away she heard her northman say, "You bloody cunt," as he lifted up his axe for the blow that would finish her.

A trumpet blew.

That's wrong, she thought. There are no trumpets in the Drowned God's watery halls. Below the waves the merlings hail their lord by blowing into seashells.

She dreamt of red hearts burning, and a black stag in a golden wood with flame streaming from his antlers.

Is that hidden foreshadowing or more R'hllor nonsense?

Patchface is a servant of the Drowned God, confirmed.

Patchface jumped up. "I will lead it!" His bells rang merrily. "We will march into the sea and out again. Under the waves we will ride seahorses, and mermaids will blow seashells to announce our coming, oh, oh, oh." - Jon XIII, ADWD

Final thoughts:

This doesn't count as a victory for Stannis. The trees and Jon Snow won.

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#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #the wayward bride #asha i

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