#Kin all the Same AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adonis-koo · 8 months

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wicked • 18

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 12k

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tags: oral (f), tiddie sucking…love kink?, teasing, vaginal fingering, begging, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting (yeah…), soft dom!kook, loss of virginity, penetrative sex, it doesn’t fit, but only for a moment, size kink, possessiveness, multiple positions, slight spanking, corruption kink if you squint, creampies (wrap it before you tap it, condoms don’t exist in this au so…yknow)

Note: this chapter was not supposed to be so horny but the brain insisted 💅

Chapel bells could be heard, a somber cry of the hazy day ahead, you sniffled trying to get the smell of ash out of your nose, squinting as you glanced through the cracked tent, the sky tinted and hazy.

You didn’t remember the sun looking quite that color, it was distorted from normal, another bell chimed and you could hear the camp from even this distant, a crackle of the fire and a sob.

“Focus!” Baba Enàir slapped the stick in front of your desk making you jump.

“Sorry Baba.”

“You can say sorry to all the folks who rely on your hands to save their kin,” Her eyes glowered down at you, “As for me, you will do good and well to pay attention.”

Your lips twitched as you stared down at your desk, eyes slowly squinting into a glare before briefly glancing behind her once more towards the open flap of the tent where you watched the girls, hands all joined skipping in a circle.

“Why can’t I be excused?”

Baba Enair’s eyes followed yours as she sighed, perhaps taking pity on you, though if she did her eyes didn’t show it.

“You are the Princess of Eunoia, the people look to you for hope, not the court girls.” Baba Enair replied, “Your dryad blood allows you to heal in a way other girls cannot, that other people cannot. It isn’t fair, but it’s for the war, the amount of lives you can save alone compares to ten of the court girls. It’s imperative that your skill is honed. Now focus once more.”

You sighed, you had heard the same reason again and again, one day you hoped it would finally mean something to you though, today however, was not that day.

Regardless of how you felt, you stuck your hands back into the moon water, a small beautiful red fish, evidentially dying as it struggled to swim around.

You closed your eyes.

“Now start your three part breath, calm your mind.” Baba Enair instructed.

You took a deep breath from your stomach, slowly expanding it to your chest and then your throat, finally letting it exhale, after a few more breaths you began to speak.

“Ni esta- upon I cemen, eless- mama na- laiva,”

“Louder.” Baba Enair commanded.

“Let your coiv- mauime- celusse minna -yes’s eala-“ you winced as you yanked your hands from the water, the water boiling and your lips parting, feeling a piece of your heart crack at the fish, no longer swimming, but floating.

Your eyes watered as your lips trembled, you wanted him to have a peaceful passing, but all you caused was pain…

Baba Enair slapped the stick on your table, “You were too fast, too hasty! Rushing your studies will only make them last longer. Save your tears child, you will have much to cry for if you cannot even heal a fish.”

Your eyes only closed letting the tears stream down your face, the scene shifted, the tent no longer over you, but the sky above.

Thick with clouds of ash and the fire raged on, the sickening smell of death in the air, people groaning in agony and cries of mourning.

“How could you let him die you bitch! He was only a child!”

Your mouth was ajarred as you took an unsteady step back, “I’m- I’m sorry but I tried everything-“ the tent behind you being prepped for the fire, there laid a boy no older than four, a head wound that he had accidentally reopened when he fell down, attempting to play with his friend.

Blood was everywhere, even now covering your hands as tears gathered in your eyes, “I’m sorry.”

The older mother only glared as if you were nothing more than a speck of dirt under her shoe, “You’ve no right to cry!” She screamed out, reaching out as she grabbed your hair making you yelp, “You are no princess of this country! You are nothing! The dryads have abandoned your veins!”

Guards had already pulled her off but she made sure to shove you down, gravel digging into your palms as sharp jagged pain entered your body.

Tears dripped down your nose as you heard the woman scream and cry, throwing curse words your way only for her voice to be guided elsewhere as her son’s body was carried out of the tent.

Placed into a bag but it was evident he was in there, you glanced at the large bonfire, cowardly. You looked back at the ground, unable to watch them toss his body in.

You heard her wails and cries as the fire burned bright.

And suddenly, it was surrounding you, suffocating you as you cried out, the plead of a child, the skin melting from your hands and-

You gasped, sweat dripping from your body as you sat up in bed, wincing as if something of ash still lingered in your lungs, coughing you grabbed the water carafe from your nightstand, pouring a drink.

Leaning your back against your bed board, it was just a dream…you took a shaky breath, attempting to close your eyes,

‘blood covering your face, skin hanging and cartilage visible’

Your eyes shot back open upon being greeted with Di Jin’s dead face.

It had already been difficult to go to sleep, his cold dead face showing up every time you closed your eyes, or in your dreams once you had finally slept. Tonight had been different though, different difficulties deciding to present themselves this time.

All better forgotten nonetheless.

It had only been two days, and yet, it felt as if no time had passed at all, slowly you peeled the covers off yourself, shivering as you grabbed your nightgown cover, putting the long sleeve on as you walked to the door.

The room suddenly felt too closed in, too suffocating, you needed air.

Opening the door, you were greeted with your personal knight Yoongi, his injuries still healing, but he was doing far better than you.

When the unfortunate event of Di Jin and Seohyun showed up, Yoongi had shown up the morning after, bruised and battered, the entire operation of the tower being sieged a guise to bait him out and even better if it killed him, and worst of all it worked.

Well, the bit to draw him out, but evidently he was still very much alive.

“Your Highness?” Yoongi raised his brows a little, not surprised to see you up, but a little concern evident in his eyes.

“I wish to go for a walk.” Your voice was a quiet croak, shaky even.

“Of course.” Yoongi replied.

“Can it be…as if I were by myself?” Your lips turned into a small frown.

Yoongi gave you a weak smile, “You won’t even notice me.”

You nodded before walking past him, a little ways ahead before you could only assume he melded into the shadows, trailing behind unseen but still within a safe distance.

The corridors were empty, save for a few guards who bowed for you before giving you no grief, everyone looked at you differently though.

It was evident in their eyes, the way they all warily kept a distance.

Once upon a time, you had gotten used to your title, the Bitch of Eunoia.

But now they had all taken to calling you something different, something new, the Blood-Devoured Bitch. It was a hybrid name, both of Penumbrian and Eunoian background, sickening and yet flattering all the same, it suited you, you supposed.

Stepping out into the courtyard you innately shivered, ice cold air penetrated easily past your cover, wrapping your arms around yourself you took a big breath of air.

It’s crisp cool entered your lungs like new life, and for a moment you felt better.

Sitting down on the bench you curled into yourself, and suddenly the weight of your soul felt heavy again, you were so tired. A type of tired that sleep would not make go away.

Staring at the moon, you let its light be your only comfort, surely better days would come.

Jungkook couldn’t describe his level of worry for you, you had woken up physically fine, a minor wound to your chest where Di Jin had attempted to kill you. But you yourself were not fine.

You looked haunted, any food put in front of you was left untouched, and even if you did eat, you were unable to keep anything down.

Jungkook thought once Wheein was safe, things would get better. But it was clear to him this was hardly the case and what made it worse was you were isolating yourself now, refusing to talk to him or anyone else.

Wheein had desperately wanted to see you but Jungkook firmly sent her back to Skol demanding she take some time to herself, being in the dungeon for the last three weeks was no good for anybody mentally, especially her.

Meanwhile he was left to pick up the pieces of whatever had happened at the estate, and it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

He felt horrible, he wanted you to go to the estate because he thought it was safe, but as it turns out, he nearly sent you to your death. He hadn’t pushed the topic with you, left you alone if you didn’t respond.

He just wanted you to be okay, it pained him seeing you like this.

You felt unreachable, and it made him feel as if he was literally losing his mind.

But tonight was Sunday, the day the family gathered together for dinner, Jungkook’s hopes were low but he could only hope that you would show up, he was worried and even more so at a loss of what to do, or if he could do anything at all.

You killed Di Jin.

The Eunoian Princess, who had sworn an oath to never kill, who came from a pacifistic nation, who had divine dryad blood running through her veins, killed someone.

And Jungkook knew you wouldn’t listen to him, it mattered not that you did it in self defense, it didn’t change the fact that you still broke your oath. Dinner had been quiet, nobody talking and this was to be expected, after all, everyone almost murdered your hand maid, you almost died, and then not only killed Di Jin, the kings oldest and dearest friend, but also Seohyun, Jungkook’s old fiancé.

Guards had gone to the estate to clean up the mess only to find her mangled body, torn apart by a wolf- namely yours.

Perhaps it wasn't directly you, but it mattered not, you would still take the guilt.

The doors opened and Jungkook straightened in his seat, you gave a short courtesy before taking your seat next to him, your eyes looked sunken in and it was evident you hadn’t slept a single night.

Jungkook could feel it clawing at his chest with the urge to do something, anything, but he knew all too well this would be something you would have to reconcile with yourself, in your own time.

Dinner was quiet and his uncle and aunt only murmured conversation, Jungkook could only let out a quiet sigh as he lifted his goblet to his lips, wine almost never solved his problems but it did help him relax.

“Yes, apparently a wild pack of dogs attacked Vail yesterday,” Jeong Dae’s voice was quiet, Areum’s eyes on him as she took a sip of her wine.

Their voices were the only one’s at the table that have yet to talk, after all they had always managed to keep the conversation going in these awkward events.

You were twirling your soup in its bowl, having not attempted to eat, eyes strictly somewhere between the table and your food.

“Well there needs to be more guards posted in the outer district’s now that this whole assassin business is finished,” Areum replied, leaning back in her chair, “They had four fatality’s which could’ve been prevented with adequate soldiers number’s.”

“Or perhaps we just need better soldiers,” Jeong Dae mused, “Perhaps our War Matron should make her return.”

You finally gathered a spoonful of your soup, watching the steam rise from it’s surface before you pushed it into your mouth. Jungkook wasn’t trying to stare, but it was difficult to look away when you were having to force every drop of broth down.

Areum scoffed, “Unless war is on the horizon I would rather rot. There was only one guard there, and he was passing through on his patrol.”

You gathered another spoonful, looking at it once more as if having to mentally prepare yourself.

“Is a shame though,” Jeong Dae sighed, “It was an absolute mess when I arrived, blood everywhere, one of the poor lad’s had his throat ripped out-”

A loud cough cut off the conversation, all eyes on you as you grabbed your mouth, lurching in your seat as if attempting to not vomit, “Excuse me.” You didn’t even so much as wait for a reply, shoving yourself out of your chair and promptly exiting.

Jungkook was immediately pushing himself out of his chair, not even saying a word as he quickly followed after you. You probably didn’t want to see him, but he simply couldn’t stand watching you like this.

He needed to do something, anything.

“Y/n!” He called out as you rushed down the hall.

You shook your head as you took a sharp left, going down the stairs towards the cellar, Jungkook quickly stepping down the stairs as he called your name once more.

It was dark and only candles lit the air, dust could be seen if one got too close, walls of wine and dry goods stored as you turned the corner of a storage wall, weaving towards the very back where surely no one would go.

Jungkook quickly followed behind, turning the last corner of the storage wall before he sighed out, a dead end with you at the last wall, back still turned but your sobs evident, hands covering your eyes as you tried to regain your breath but struggling to do so.

It came out in choked wheezes as you coughed and gagged, struggling to calm yourself down, flashes of blood, images of flesh and gore, no matter how many times you washed out your mouth, you could still taste it.

Raw flesh going down your throat.

Jungkook finally stopped at your back, unable to find any words, he could only pull you to face him, and he hated it, how it always seemed your face was filled with tears more than smiles, “I can’t get it out!”

You felt like a helpless child all over again, unable to help yourself let alone anyone else, but you felt so lost, you didn’t know what to do, you had all of these new feelings, all of these new sins you had to carry.

You let out another sob as Jungkook pulled you in, and you could do nothing but collapse against him as you cried, “I can’t get the taste out! No matter- wh-what I eat, what I drink, I still taste it!”

Jungkook only soothing hushed you, pressing his lips on top of your head, “I know.” He ushered softly, “I’m sorry.”

His arms wrapped around you tighter as you cried, resting your head into his shoulder, after a few minutes passed you had finally managed to calm your breath into steady.

“I can’t go back, I can’t undo everything I’ve done, I don’t know what to do anymore,” You tried to not weep but the tears slowly began to trickle back down your cheeks as you lamented, “My whole life i’ve been told I’m supposed to save lives,”

You pressed your hands against his jacket, looking up at him, “So why is it, all I ever seem to do is take them?”

Jungkook tenderly cupped your cheeks in his hands, thumbing the tears away as he pressed his forehead against yours, “I can’t speak for all of your past doings, but I can speak for what happened at the estate, your survival was dependent on your ability to defend yourself. You were forced to do what anybody would do.”

You shook your head in remorse, closing your eyes as you stifled a sob, Jungkook tenderly stroking your cheeks as he continued, “Humans are instinctive creatures, though you are part dryad, it seems violence runs in your veins.”

You sniffled, “That’s terrifying! You should be terrified. Everyone looks at me differently now, certainly you do as well, I killed the woman who was supposed to be your wife!”

Jungkook sighed, tenderly tracing your jawline with those long fingers of his, “The only thing that truly terrified me? Was when you walked through those gates covered in blood, and I realized I had unknowingly sent you to your death, unable to be there for you, unable to protect you, failing as a husband. That terrifies me.”

Your lips trembled as Jungkook’s fingers traced down your neck to your collarbone, “But you? I told you to show me all of you, and that I would take you as you are, my words still stand.” His fingers trailed down the center of your chest, stopping at the covered wound, the mark where Di Jin had attempted to make his finishing blow.

“How could I be afraid of someone I love?” It was nothing louder than a whisper.

It caused your gut to wrench as you violently shook your head, “Don’t say that, please don’t say that Jungkook.” You immediately escaped his arms, every step you took back Jungkook closed the gap with another forward.

“I don’t expect it to be requited, you don’t have to say it back Y/n but I’ve went through all stages of grief about it, I can’t change it,” Jungkook wasn’t backing down though, “I am in love with you and everything I thought I knew about love, everything I thought I knew about women, feelings, all of it, you came into my life and taught me that I was a fool to ever assume as much. I love you.”

“Stop saying it! Please, you don’t mean that, please don’t say it so easily…”

Your back was pressed against the wall as you shook your head, Jungkook standing tall in front you, delicately leaning down, both his forearms on either side of you as he whispered, “I love you Y/n, and you will not dictate to me whether that is the truth or not. My love for you has been anything but easy, don’t discredit how I feel because I’m the first to admit it.”

“You can’t love me,” You whispered, eyes blurring once more as flashes of Seohyun’s mangled body appeared in your vision.

“Loving you is like loving the sun,” Jungkook replied softly, “Effortless, and if I’m meant to burn in its light, then I'd die happily in doing so. My precious sun, the light of my life. Let me love you, let me take care of you, let me protect you, let me never leave your side again.”

“Jungkook…”

“I failed you, let you leave my side, sent you to the estate. It’s ultimately my own fault, and I’ll spend the rest of my life redeeming myself for it. But please, don’t punish me anymore,” Jungkook’s eyes sombered, a sort of tender plea in them, “I can’t be apart from you anymore, I’ve tried to give you space, time to think, to heal, but just as you need me, I need you. I need you just like the moon needs the sun.”

You had no words, unable to speak, overwhelmed by so many different feelings, but one thing you knew for certain was that when you looked at Jungkook, you felt at home. You said nothing, only gently laying your forehead in the crook of his neck, arms wrapping around him.

Trying to drown out the voices, the memories in his warmth, you were so terribly homesick, and Jungkook was surely your only remedy to this.

His arms wrapped around you in return, holding you tightly as he pressed a kiss against your head, “It’s selfish, but please, don’t deny me, love me, lay with me, we’re married, but I want you to be my wife.”

“Take me back to our bedroom.” You whispered to him, curling into his warmth as you shuddered, trying so hard to not let the vivid grotesque images back into your mind.

There was nothing quite like the warmth a bath could offer, steaming wafting from heat and dipping your body in made you realize just how chilled you had become throughout the day. Perhaps the best part was sitting perched in your husband’s lap, head laying on his shoulder as he tended to you.

The warmth of the washcloth running along your body, his hands that had easily taken tens if not hundreds of lives tenderly running through your hair as he washed you, he of course didn’t miss the opportunity to feather your neck in kisses.

“Is this okay?” He whispered in your ear, you nodded wanting nothing more than for him to keep making you forget, you didn’t want to remember anymore.

Jungkook was still tenderly cleaning you up, lips occasionally going back to your neck with a few gentle kisses and eventually after bathing you both settled in the water, just enjoying one another’s embrace.

His fingers tracing circles on your back before running down your waist, squeezing your ass for a moment before his hand would return back up your waist, touching you however he wanted, simply because he could.

It was a comforting gesture, but it was also evident how aroused you both were, every time his hand would dip under the water, it made your body just a little more excited, feeling his hand gripping your flesh tightly, making you shift a little and the first tiniest audible moan escaping your lips.

You could feel it briefly, his hardened cock resting against his chiseled abdomen, Jungkook’s lips pressed against your neck once more, this time suckling the skin as his other hand trailing down your waist before gripping the other side of your ass.

A soft moan escaped your lips, making your hips shift, nudging his cock once more making his lips suckle your skin a little harder, he released the skin after a moment, as if not wanting to mark it, “Let me make you feel good, my little sun.”

His fingers digging into your skin, his tongue dragging on your neck, “Please.” You ushered out a small moan.

Jungkook’s hand’s suddenly grabbed your waist, “Hold on,” He said and you didn’t understand for a moment until he suddenly picked you up, bringing you out of the water, grabbing one of the towels from off the stool he laid it out on the bed to not get it wet before dropping you down.

The fire crackled on, the only light source in the room, leaving it dark and warm, but the silhouette of Jungkook’s body was still very evident, his hard cock even more so as he stood tall in front of your figure.

You felt so small in comparison in this moment, but it didn’t last long as Jungkook leaned down, “You’re so perfect.” He whispered, lips pressing into yours as if he could sense your anxiousness, your body was so pliable though, having his hovering over you protectively. You moaned into the kiss, body relaxing as one of his hands found your thighs, pushing them apart tenderly as you opened them for him.

Your cunt was throbbing and wet, eager to be touched by him as Jungkook broke the kiss, letting his tongue drag down your throat and to your collarbone before he feathered more kisses, pausing at your breasts.

Jungkook couldn’t resist wrapping his lips around your left tit, this forced a moan from you, hips shifting in need as a hand steady them, as if telling you to be patient, he traded for your right tit next, moaning softly against your skin as if relishing in it.

“Jungkook…!” You whined softly, watching the explicit sight, your thighs spreading a little more in need.

Jungkook’s eyes almost glowed in the dark, that icy blue piercing gaze, hazy and filled with lust as he released your tit from his lips, a small lazy smirk tugging on his lips, “Yes, my love?”

It felt like knots were forming in your stomach, “Love me, you keep saying it, show me how it feels.”

Jungkook gave you a small smile, “You don’t need to ask me twice.” His lips pressed down your stomach and your body was reacting in all the ways he could hope as he made his way down to your hips, tenderly, slowly, licking up every reaction he got before he settled himself between your thighs.

Still he seemed to enjoy getting you worked up, lips pressing against your inner thigh making you squirm, your cunt dripping wet as you whined, “Jungkook!”

His tongue dragged just a little closer to where you wanted it, “What do we say when we want something?”

“Please…!”

Jungkook moaned softly as his tongue pressed against your cunt making you let out a moan of relief, his hot wet tongue mixing with your arousal as he pressed against your little opening before dragging it up your slit, right where you wanted it.

You moaned softly as his tongue pressed against your clit, you shifted onto your forearm, your other hand reaching down to bury in his wet dark locks of hair, his tongue swirling around the tender bud as pleasure shot through your body making your thighs open further for him.

His eyes closed as he moaned against your clit, wrapping his lips around it as if suckling something sweet, it made a sharp whine escape you as you yanked his hair hips lifting for him.

“Mm Jungkook.” You ushered out softly as his lips parted, tongue lathing against the little bud that had you squirming in pleasure.

“Relax my love,” Jungkook moaned into your cunt, “Let me make you cum as many times as you please.”

His fingers snuck down to your cunt as his lips wrapped back around your clit making you whine, his tongue having found a particularly sweet spot that had you grabbing his hair.

His fingers toyed with your little hole at first, letting them get nice and sticky from your arousal before he pushed a digit in, your body immediately reacted, walls clenching around him as a strangled whine left you.

His lips parted as his tongue lathed your clit, continuously flicking the sweet spot of your bud as you whimpered, your cunt throbbing in pleasure as his finger began to pump inside you, “Relax princess, I got you,” Jungkook’s lidded eyes met yours, and briefly you could see his finger, knuckle deep in your cunt.

As if noticing this as well a small smirk curled on his lip as he pulled it out, before gathering both his middle and ring finger, pushing it back inside you, it made you wince a little in discomfort, “Shh, give your body to me, I’ll take care of it my love,” Jungkook moaned softly, his cock was rock hard at watching you moan and wither beneath him in pleasure.

Your walls clenching tightly around his fingers as he thrusted them inside you, his lips tenderly pressing into your thigh to soothe you as your body slowly relaxed just as he said.

Your hips slowly lifted in sync with his as you whined, Jungkook buried himself back in your cunt once more, tongue lapping at your little clit, getting the exact reaction he had hoped.

A loud cry escape you, thighs suddenly wrapping around his head just the way he wanted them too, wanting to be suffocated by your cunt and nothing else, his fingers immediately began pumping rougher inside you as you whined unable to keep yourself supported anymore as you collapsed back against the bed.

“Koo! Mmm! Please Koo!” Your words were mumbled and whiny as his tongue viciously swirled and suckled your throbbing bud, his fingers suddenly lifting inside you as if in search for something.

Pleasure was becoming more consistent, more intense as Jungkook's moan vibrated against your clit and his fingers pushing all the way inside you as they lifted once more, the pleasure that suddenly snapped through your body was indescribable, a loud whimper escaping you.

His name came in shambled shorter variations as you whined and moaned, your walls rapidly squeezing around his fingers as he kept thrusting into the same spot again and again.

Jungkook kept lapping at your clit, finding that sweet spot once more as you withered beneath him, back arching as your mind blurred with pleasure, “Oh..! Oh god, please! Yes! Mmm!”

Your voice echoed throughout the bedroom loudly as fits of moans escaped your mouth, lips parted at just how good you felt, “Cum for me, cum all over my fingers sweetheart,” Jungkook moaned before his lips parted against your clit, lazily rubbing into that little spot as his fingers ruthlessly rubbed into that spot inside you.

And you did.

Your walls rapidly wrapped around his fingers as he kept shoving them inside you, his tongue attached to your bud, milking your orgasm as unholy noises escaped your lips, mixtures of thanks, of his name, cries to the empty sky.

It just kept going, the pleasure only heightened as you squealed out, hands digging into his hair as his tongue swirled over your clit, fingers refusing to stop as they hit that same spot inside you over and over again.

It had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your thighs trembling as you completely gave your body up to him, relaxing into the building sensation inside your cunt as your walls kept squeezing around his fingers, his tongue not stopping on your clit as he suckled it once more.

His tongue finding just the right spot as it all spiked once more, your moans were shaky and cried out as blind pleasure washed over you once more, cumming all over his fingers but not only that liquid suddenly spewing lewdly from your little hole.

“Fuuck,” Jungkook moaned, lifting your hips suddenly as his fingers abused your little entrance, hitting that spot over and over again as your body withered against him, “Such a good girl.”

His fingers finally pulled out of your cunt, your thighs trembling as he set you down, moaning as he kissed your thighs, hands dragging against your waist, “Fuck, I want you so bad sweetheart, wanna fill you up, wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

You were heaving deep breathes, trying to comprehend the pleasure you just experienced, you were hazy still as your hand tenderly combed through his hair, “Then do so…” You gazed at him, hazey and the darkness made it difficult to make out his expression, “You said you wanted me to be your wife, then make me your wife.”

Jungkook’s gaze shot up to you as you weakly smiled, “I want you to be my husband, but we’ve never consummated it. I want to.”

Jungkook moaned softly, his cock throbbing as he crawled up to you, arms hovering on either side of you as he stared down at you, “You mean it?”

“Of course I do,” You whispered, hands creeping up his neck and back to his hair once more, pulling him down for a kiss that he would never deny you.

Jungkook moaned softly into the kiss before he broke it, pressing a kiss against your neck, “It’ll hurt,” He whispered, “But I’ll make sure it doesn’t last long.”

Jungkook shifted you further up the bed as he sat on his knees, between your thighs as you parted them for him, feeling nervous, but you felt so safe with him, you wanted him, craved him. Jungkook’s fingers brushed over your cunt, puffy and wet as you shuddered.

His hand was soaked in your arousal as before he wrapped it around his cock, just as big and fat as you remembered. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he pumped his cock in his hand, it made you feel shy as you shifted beneath him.

“Are you sure?” He murmured, you nodded.

Grabbing your thighs he pulled you closer to him before he grabbed his cock once more, rubbing the fat weeping head of his cock against your cunt as you let out a shaky exhale, you knew he was big but…he was really big compared to you.

Just the size of his head was nearly as big as your cunt itself, “Jungkook I don’t…-”

“It’ll fit.” He reassured, a little amused, pulling the head of his cock to your little entrance before attempting to push it in.

You winced in pain as you shifted, you weren’t sure how you expected this to go, it really wasn’t something you had ever fantasized about. But the first attempt was lackluster due to the fact that he indeed was not getting it in.

Jungkook’s nose wrinkled, “Ugh fuck. Hold on,” He whispered, shifting a little more, setting your thighs a top of his a little more, lining his cock back up to your entrance as he pushed once more.

He pushed the fat head of his cock against your entrance once more, this time however, you let out a yelp, the sensation almost burning as you shifted in discomfort against him, “Ah…! Fuck that hurts.” You let out a weak whine, biting down on your lip hard.

And it did, all you could focus on was how much it ached and burned having your walls pushed open by something so large and foreign.

Jungkook leaned down, arms on either side of you as he pressed feathery kisses into your neck, “I’m sorry, my love,” His whisper was strained, “Just let yourself relax, it won’t last long.” He let out a slight shaky moan as he pushed himself just a little deeper inside you.

You tried to let yourself relax as much as possible, but your brows were still pinching together and it was difficult for it to not hurt when he was just really that big.

Jungkook suddenly pulled out of you making you sigh in relief, Jungkook pressed another comforting kiss against your neck as he pushed the head of his cock back inside, only this time, it wasn’t nearly as painful, a little discomfort of having something foreign inside your body.

But it wasn’t nearly as bad, Jungkook’s muscles were completely tensed and his breath was shaky as he buried his face into your neck with a moan, “Fuck sweetheart, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me.”

Jungkook his deep raspy words in your ear made your walls squeeze around him, making him push a little deeper inside you as you let out a soft whine, shifting your hips as if trying to take more of him.

Jungkook could feel this, immediately pushing his cock deeper inside you, “Oh my god,” He whispered, “Fucking perfect, perfect cunt, perfect body, perfect for me. Look at that little cunt, taking me so well.”

You whined at his hips thrusting a little, as if testing the water’s, “Koo…mmm!” Your eyes snapped shut at feeling his cock splitting your walls open, hitting all the right places.

Jungkook moaned as his hips slowly began to thrust, his cock still not fully inside you but with each thrust it got a little closer, “Feels so warm, so little, fuck, keep wrapping around me like that love.”

His shaft rubbed right into that sweet spot that had you moaning, legs wrapping around his waist, your cunt felt so full and yet wanted so much more, Jungkook’s hips were becoming a little faster, “Such a perfect cunt, mine. All mine.” There was a hint of possessiveness in his words.

Your hands dug in his hair, “All yours.” You whimpered out quietly as your body started jolting, his hips becoming rougher at the words, “Your cunt, yours.”

Jungkook let out a rough moan, deep and raw as if those words made him all hot and bothered, “Fuck yeah it is,” He suddenly growled in your ear, “You’re my fuckin’ wife, my cunt to play with, my cunt to make cum again and again. Mine.”

You suddenly whimpered at feeling his cock going deeper inside you, your eyes shutting as you moaned for him, knowing he wanted to hear them, knowing how much he liked to see you in pleasure, “Mmm! Like that.”

“Oh? Like this?” He smirked against your skin as he thrusted particularly harsh, his cock going deep inside you once more, your walls rapidly clenching around him as you moaned, nails dragging against his back.

“What about this?” He murmured in your ear, pushing his hips all the way until they met yours, his cock completely buried in your warm little cunt as you shakily moaned, eyes squeezing shut at how deep he was inside, how thick and fat his cock was, completely splitting open your walls.

“Mmm fuck, yeah.” You ushered softly, creaming all over his cock, arousal coating it as your walls squeezed around him, you had finally found heaven, it was Jungkook buried inside your cunt.

Jungkook moaned as well, feeling how tight your walls squeezed around him in pleasure, as if suddenly starved Jungkook grabbed your thigh, bringing it over his shoulder as his hips shifted, rapidly thrusting into you as you yelped in surprise.

But pleasure was immediately blooming side you, his shaft rubbing all the right spots, balls slapping against your skin as you whimpered for him, “Oh! Right there, yeah! Yes, god…!”

Jungkook moaned, “Fuck yeah, squeeze around me baby, know you wanna cum on it, cum all over this fat cock, gonna fill you up until your dripping.”

Your hips lifted with his, moaning at how good it felt, his cock roughly dragging in and out of you, pushing your walls open with each thrust, “Mmm wanna cum all over it.”

Jungkook moaned, thrusting particularly hard this time making you whine before he suddenly shifted, letting go of your thigh as he suddenly sat up right, but dragging you with him, his cock pulling out of you as you whined.

Thighs trembled and uncertain of this new position as Jungkook sat you in his lap, immediately grabbing his cock as he pushed it back inside you, except you were a little awkward, “Mm Koo I don’t-”

“Like this love.” Jungkook moaned, grabbing your hips as he lifted them, this new position made you feel him in an entirely new way, your lips parting as an involuntary moan escaped you, trying to mimick the way his hips guided you.

Sliding down his cock as you moaned, feeling how deep he was inside you, your walls rapidly clenched, Jungkook’s hands tightened around your ass, “Fuck yeah sweetheart, can feel you wrapping around it, cum.” His head suddenly dove down, lips parting on your right tit as he suckled it harshly making you cry out, walls clenching around him as you lowered your hips all the way down.

Your arousal dripping on his balls as he lifted you, fucking you on his cock as you whined pathetically, not of much use when he fucked you like this, his lips suckled your tit harshly once more, “Cum,” He growled, his hand suddenly smacking your right ass cheek making you yelp.

Your body however, loved that feeling of pain, your cunt squeezing around his cock as he roughly bounced you on it, “Like that? Like getting spanked sweetheart?” Jungkook grinned deviously, suddenly smacking your ass even harder, your body reacting to it as your walls clenched harder around him.

“Mmm! M’ gonna cum..Koo!” You whimpered out, all the sensations overwhelming you as Jungkook continued to bounce you on his cock, pushing you deeper on him as he smacked your ass once more, this time hitting just under the cheek, the pain mixed with the pleasure as you moaned loud, walls squeezing rapidly around his cock.

Your lips parted as you came all over his fat shaft, being bounced roughly as Jungkook moaned, “Fuck yeah, thats it princess,” Jungkook moaned, wrapping his around around your waist as he laid back on the bed, bring you with him a top as his hips lifted, rapidly thrusting up inside you, this orgasm was much deeper, more powerful as he continued to bottom out inside you making sure he was completely buried inside you.

“Fuck my love, that’s it.” Jungkook ushered a moan, you felt it before you heard it, something indescribably warm shooting deep inside your cunt, “Mm that’s it, take it like the good girl you are.”

You let out the tiniest whine, burying your head in his shoulder as he let out a deep sigh of contentment, relishing in his orgasm, how long had he imagined holding you like this?

His lips tugged into a lopsided smile as his eyes opened, looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world, as if in deep admiration, love.

You supposed that look in his eyes, could only be described adequate as love, “My goddess,” He mused, fingers trailing your face, his hand trailed down your side before grabbing your hand, the skin discolored in large patches.

Jungkook pressed his lips against the palm before tenderly planting a kiss on each finger, the gesture was so full of love it made your eyes fill with tears that did not shed, his lips pressed against your wrist, “The love of my life, I know I cannot change the past,”

Jungkook laid you both on your side as he wrapped his arm around you, “But we will get through this together.”

You weren’t sure what it was, the earnest look in his eyes, the pure devotion in his voice, but you believed him, you wholeheartedly believed him, “We will.” You whispered back, leaning in to press your lips against his.

It was filled with nothing but sweetness, tenderly pressing over yours as he let out a soft moan, his hand finding its home around your neck, not squeezing but simply holding it, “My wife.” He moaned against the kiss, “My beautiful wife. I don’t think there will ever be a day I don’t love you. Sleep, and if you wake, I’ll be here to hold you.”

Sleep did not come easily, Jungkook had managed to get you both under the warm covers, scaring off whatever little coldness that had tickled your skin, the last hour before he fell asleep had been silent, his fingers tracing circles against your back, enjoying one another's warmth.

You had eventually fell asleep but dreams you could not remember had plagued you back awake, your eyes were tired but you could see blue light streaming in from the window, it wouldn’t be long before your day would begin.

Still, you laid dozing off enjoying your Jungkook who hadn’t let go of you the whole time, skin to skin contact soothing, you had rolled onto your stomach, letting the weight of his body near on top of you soothe your eyes back shut.

Shifting a little to get comfortable this must have accidentally awoke him as you felt a gentle kiss press on your shoulder a sleepy groan escape his lips, “How long have you been awake?” He mumbled, his voice quiet, deeper and raspier than normal.

“...Not too long, I’ve woken up multiple times though.” You whispered, keeping your eyes shut as you felt his hand slowly stroke your waist.

You would never say it out loud, but you could definitely get use to being petted like this.

“You should’ve woke me up,” Jungkook pressed another kiss against your skin, this time your neck, “Let us lay together in silence.”

“We could be laying in silence right now.” You offered a tiny tired smile though you weren’t sure he could see it.

“We could.” Jungkook murmured, his lips pressing onto your neck once more, this time parting as his tongue tenderly lapped over your skin, the act itself made your breath hitch, body stirring as you tilted your head, letting him have more access to your skin.

You kept your eyes closed, allowing him to give you open mouthed kisses over your neck, not too long in each spot to be mindful of marking, his tongue delicately tracing over each patch just enough to tease.

It seemed he finally got what he wanted out of you, a tiny moan as he shifted you both, now spooning you, your bare ass promptly snug against his hard cock, his lips suckling the skin of your neck as his hand snaked over your waist, grabbing a handful of your tit as he pinched your nipple.

You whined as you rubbed back against him a little, this made his hand immediately grab your hip, squeezing it to stay still before it hooked over your thigh to lift it, your cunt glossy and wet, dried cum staying your thighs no doubt.

Your face felt hot and flush and suddenly the covers that had kept you warm were like an inferno, Jungkook shifted, grabbing his cock as he let his fat weeping head rub along your puffy slit.

A small breath escaped you as he rubbed it over your sensitive clit before back to your little entrance, and then pushing it in, your brows pinched together in discomfort, his size still big for your body to adjust too.

“Shhh,” He whispered against your neck, moaning softly as his hips started thrusting, his cock pushing further inside you as you whined, “Fuck, can’t believe this pussy is all mine,” Jungkook ushered quietly, “Mine to fuck, mine to love, mine to cum inside. Mine.”

You moaned against the pillow, your walls squeezing tight around his cock as he thrusted further inside you before pushing all the way in, his shaft rubbing just the right way inside you, “Mmm, Jungkook.” You moaned quietly.

You could feel his wicked smirk on your skin, hips suddenly thrusting rough up into you, his cock throbbing as his balls smacked against your skin, “Moan my name, only mine. Want everyone to hear, to know how good I fuck you.”

You bit down on your lip at his hips thrusting at a steady but rough pace, each time pulling almost out of you only to shove all the way back in, the fat head of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you each time.

“That's right sweetheart, cream all over it, wanna feel this pretty little cunt cum all over my cock,” Jungkook moaned in your ear, that deep rasp in his voice had your clit throbbing and your walls wrapping around him as you whined.

Overwhelmed by how big he was, how good it felt you nearly cried out at the feeling of his cock pulling out of you, your muscles tensed as your eyes snapped open at being robbed of your pleasure.

Jungkook had a sleepy smirk on his face as he sat upright against the headboard, pulling the covers off to reveal his fat, proud cock, glossy with your arousal as he offered you a hand, “Come sit on your throne my goddess.”

Your body felt hot in all kinds of ways as you took his hand before slowly crawled to him, Jungkook however manhandled you to sit on his lap, your back pressing into his chest as he pried your thighs apart, the position was all too familiar as you whined.

“Jungkook…!”

“Remember what I said last time?” Jungkook pressed a long kiss against your neck, shifting you as he grabbed his cock, gleaming coated in your arousal as he pushed the head back inside you, an audible moan from you echoing in the room as you watched in arousal and horror at how much he was splitting your cunt.

Your body could do nothing but sink down on it, whines and whimpers escaping you once again at just how thick his cock was, finally meeting the base as your body rested against his, Jungkook however had different plans, grabbing your thighs to lift them a little as he suddenly starting thrusting.

His fast pace took you off guard as you gurgled a moan, eyes unable to look at anything except his cock pulling in and out of your cunt, covered in slick arousal as you felt his shaft squeezing past your soft warm walls each time, hitting up into your sweet spot that had you moaning.

“You like watching?” Jungkook grinned, a breathy moan escaping him as his chin rested on your shoulder, eyes hazy as he watched his cock push all the way inside you, “Like being made to take this big fat cock while being made to watch.”

Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut at how hard your walls suddenly clenched around him, taking everything in him to not cum this very moment, “You’re so fucking little,” He groaned, fingers digging into your thighs, “Love feeling that pretty little cunt wrap around me, heh yeah like that fuuck.”

His fingers found your clit rubbing them as you yelped out, walls rapidly clenching around him in a feeling that he was quickly starting to familiarize himself with, it made his cock throb in pleasure as he lifted once more, shifting you both a little so you laid back more against his chest, thrusting harder and faster this time as he pressed your clit between his fingers.

“Mmph! Koo-! Fuck, ah! Yes! Oh god, like that, please! Please!” Moans escaped you incohesively, surrendering your body to him as he fucked you roughly, hips snapping up into yours, his cock stretching out your walls each time.

Jungkook’s fingers toyed with your throbbing clit, “Thats it, moan, let them know who’s taking care of this pretty pussy, who’s filling you up with cock right now,” His hips drilling into you as he watched his cock snap in and out of your cunt each time, “Look, watch.” He growled in your ear.

Your eyes opened as you moaned, your cunt puffy and wet, stretching for him with more ease now than before, Jungkook’s hips slowed down, “You like watching yourself get fucked?”

Your throat felt dry and your body hot as his hips sensually moved, slower, deeper, making sure you felt every thrust of his hips as his cock buried deep in your cunt, “Answer.”

“Yes,” You stammered, whining a little at his cock burying inside you once more but this time not pulling out immediately after, “Like watching.” You whined quietly.

Jungkook had a wicked grin on his lips, “You like it? Being fucked by the wicked prince?” His thrusts were short, keeping his cock as deep inside you as he could, your walls clenched at the short snapped sensation, “Like it when I cum deep inside this pretty virgin cunt of yours?”

Pleasure was building rapidly in your body, your walls squeezing tightly around him each time, watching his long thick fingers rub into your clit, finding that sweet little spot that had you gasping a whine.

“Yes, yeah, fuck, mmm! Fuck Koo, gonna…!” Your body was contorting as his cock pushed all the way inside you once more.

“I remember that little mouth of yours our wedding night, remember wanting nothing more then to bend you over and stuff you full of cock,” Jungkook moaned, hips becoming sloppy, thrusts uneven, some slow, some rough, “Fuck you so hard all you’d be able to do was thank me. But look at you now.”

Jungkook smiled against your shoulder, “My pretty wife letting me fuck her tiny little cunt, letting me ruin the little virgin dryad princess. Fuck yeah, that’s it, cum all over it my love. Cum all over this cock.”

You were moaning so loud, surely people out in the halls could hear, and it only turned Jungkook on further, his cock buried inside you with the need to make sure you kept moaning, needing others to hear, to know that you were his.

His thrusts were short, keeping buried deep in your cunt as his fingers kept rubbing into the sweet spot of your clit, your walls rapidly clenching around his base as he buried into you once more before you came.

Jungkook let out a loud moan as your walls squeezed him so tight he was unable to thrust, pleasure was contorting in every part of your body as you came all over his cock just as he wanted, your clit throbbing in pleasure as Jungkook tenderly rubbed into it, milking every last bit of pleasure he could.

“God I love the way your cunt wraps around me,” He murmured, eyes tightly shut at the sensation, what he had dreamed of for so long now, the feeling of your cunt squeezing tight around him, begging to be filled with his cum.

The feeling was still foreign, having something warm and slightly sting as it roped inside you, his hands squeezing your thighs tight as he came, moaning softly in your shoulder, you both were heaving breathes.

Jungkook pressed a flutter of light kisses against your neck, fingers tracing your thighs, is fingerprints still prominent in them, “So that’s what you meant…”

“Hm?” Jungkook hummed out, nose nudging your neck in a loving manner, his fingers tracing over the skin that was slowly discoloring.

“You…once told me bruising could be attractive, is this what you meant?” You whispered, voice raspy a little humored.

You could feel the tiny smile on your neck, “Maybe. Maybe not, do you find it attractive?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook’s fingers continued to trace over the marks, “When they’re mine,” He pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear, “They’re the most attractive.”

You had gotten distracted though, his cock slipping out of you and cum oozing from your entrance you squirmed in discomfort, your face felt warm at the lewd sight.

“Mmm, that’s even more attractive though,” Jungkook moaned softly, his index finger scooping it back up before pushing it back in making you squirm.

“Jungkook…!” You whined out, immediately closing your legs.

He chuckled as he pressed a kiss against your head, “Let me grab a washcloth and get you cleaned up.”

Jungkook shuffled you out of his lap before standing up with a groan, grabbing his undershort that had never gotten worn last night as he put them on, grabbing a washcloth from the stool, walking back over to bed where you had shuffled, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed as you sat naked on his bed.

It didn’t matter if you both had just finished laying together and his cum dripped between your thighs.

Jungkook looked down at you for a long moment before a smile curled on his lips, “Are you going to let me see?”

“I…can clean myself.” You replied flustered, unable to look at those pretty blue eyes of his.

“What kind of partner would I be if I made you do that?” Jungkook snorted, grabbing your legs as he pulled you closer, it made you squeak now at the edge of the bed.

You thighs parting only a little for him, but he had quickly made it more as he pulled them further apart, his tongue grazing his lips at the sight before the warm wet cloth dragged over your thighs, his hands were attentive and gentle as he cleaned you up.

Jungkook had gotten himself halfway dressed and had just gotten your slip on just in time for the timely knock on the door, Taehyun’s voice on the otherside.

Jungkook had allowed him to come in, bowing to you both before going to Jungkook’s wardrobe, “Would you like for me to send for a maid to help the Princess?” Taehyun asked, you could tell he had to have known something was up but obviously not about to ask.

“No,” Jungkook replied, leaving your side as he walked over to Taehyun, “I’ll help her get ready for the day.”

Taehyun said nothing more aside from going over the duties Jungkook would need to attend today as he got him dressed, you had fidgeted in bed, eyes glancing at the window as light began to filter in, brighter than usual.

You would be expected to carry out your duties today as well, the rebuilding of the market had slowed down since winter had approached and Jeong Dae had warned you the building would be very slow in the winter, but to be patient.

You also had to meet with a few noble houses today to discuss resources once more, just the idea exhausted you. It had been nearly a week since the incident and yet it felt as though a day hadn’t past.

You hadn’t even noticed when the door had been shut.

“You’re in your head again.” Jungkook frowned, staring down at you, fully dressed in black today.

“So much has happened since we married,” You frowned as you looked at the window once more, “It’s difficult to not these days.”

You parted your lips but no words came, uncertain of how to express your feelings, Jungkook patiently waited as he turned away from you walking to your wardrobe, most of your clothes had been taken out, but evidently he had somehow managed to keep most of your winter wardrobe here.

“I knew it would be difficult, when we married and I would move here, leaving my land behind. I had two years of mental preparation for what may happen,” You sighed softly as you glanced at your hands, flipping them over to look at your discolored palms, “I had mainly prepared myself to be killed here. And yet…somehow, it never occured to me that living might possibly be worse. That living and yet, unable to recognize myself, would be a thousand times worse than death.”

You felt alienated from yourself, perhaps deep down you always knew you were capable of murder, the rage so deep in your bones that certainly it would strike a god down, but to have done it?

To go against everything your nation stood for? The oath you had so proudly taken as a little girl, your mothers eyes beaming down at you with pride.

Jungkook set the material out on the bed he had gathered before kneeling down in front of you, gently taking your hands in his, “Or perhaps this is just another side of you, something different, something new, change is uncomfortable. Growth is painful. I remember my first time…”

Your eyes slowly moved, meeting his as he frowned, “I was nothing more than a child, holding a sword too big, he was a grown man. It was one of our drill sergeants in training, he had despised the Jeon name and had taken to treating me as nothing more then dirt beneath his boots.”

Jungkook sighed, “He had been ruthlessly sparring with me, going as far as kicking me into the ground well past my attempt of surrender. And then he stopped, and just stared at him before laughing, saying I was pathetic, that I’d never live a day in battle. And like that he just turned his back and walked away.”

Jungkook’s eyes dropped, “I don’t even know what possessed me, but he kept laughing as he called out to his little friend that he was done with the Jeon Scum, suddenly I had unsheathed the dagger in my hand and ran at him.”

“And?” You whispered out.

Jungkook shrugged, “I don’t remember much of it anymore, I’ve been told I stabbed him over fourteen times though, I was covered in blood by the end of it and I only remember crying in the bathtub while washing myself.”

Your heart painfully squeezed for him, he couldn’t have been older than ten? Nobody would ever be fit to kill, let alone a child, “Were there consequences?”

Jungkook shook his head, “Areum had given me a light slap on the wrist, extra watch duty, less rations, things of that nature. But being the prince gave me certain privilege,” He a bitter smile grew on his face, “I think that was the first time my father ever told me he was proud of me. Said I had great promise on the battlefield and that I was meant to rule.”

“You say it with such disdain.” You frowned.

Jungkook sighed as he stood up, grabbing the dress he had picked out for you, a purple dress with long thick velvet sleeves, the material was sheer and thin but he had grabbed a thick under slip to pair with it.

Jungkook pulled the slip over your head, “Do you want my honest words on it?”

“Of course I do.” You whispered out, eyes meeting his as he pulled the material down.

“I’ve never had the desire to rule,” Jungkook said it no more than a whisper, “I don’t want the crown, I don’t want to be king.” He ushered it as if it was a crime, but suddenly he looked a little relieved as if this was the first he had ever voiced it, “I don’t want those responsibilities that come with it…”

Jungkook held your dress in his hands as his brows furrowed, “...I don’t want to be like my father.”

He spoke it as if that was the underlying reason, you stood up in front of him before wrapping your arms around his waist to hug him, “You’re nothing like him.” You whispered out, his hands wrapping around you as he squeezed you tight, nose burying in your hair.

Jungkook broke away only a little as his forehead pressed against yours, “But then I think about you, crown on top of your head, the way you visit the outer districts, redistribute what's left that the royals waste, how you sacrificed something so sacred to you…” His hand grabbed your own, pulling it towards his lips as he pressed a kiss against your palm, “And I think about how you were made to be a queen, and if I were to rule by your side…then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Truthfully?” You whispered back, looking up at him with a soft smile, “It doesn’t matter to me, as long as I’m with you.”

Jungkook only smiled, fingers tracing your neck as he gave a flutter of kisses to the palm of your hand before he let go of you, grabbing the gown as he helped you change, tentatively lacing the back of your dress before turning you around.

A sort of satisfied look on his face as if he had made the right choice, “Leave your hair down today, it looks nice like this.”

“Jungkook…” You gave him a look, you felt incomplete if you didn’t have your hair braided or styled at all.

“Indulge me today.” Jungkook replied with a sort of saccharine dripping off his tongue you had never heard before, pulling the velvet gloves over your hands.

You hated how much he had so easily convinced you as you sighed, shaking your head, “Very well, anything else.”

He nodded walking to your jewelry box once more, “I didn’t say anything, but it didn’t mean that I didn’t notice.” Jungkook walked back over to you, gently grabbing your left hand lifting it up as he held out the large black ring, your wedding ring, “Wear it with pride.”

Jungkook slid it on your ring finger making you smile as you glanced down at it, you had worn it a few times in the past, but it felt different letting him put it on you.

Your lips slowly fell though, “...I’m not ready for today.” You whispered out, Jungkook had been completely taken you away from your sickening thoughts for the last twelve hours, and soon you would have to return to reality.

Jungkook frowned as his fingers traced along your neck, “It’ll be over soon my love.” He ushered quietly before leaning in, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips, your eyes closing as you leaned into his warm touch, fingers curling around your throat as you let out the softest moan.

Jungkook refused to let this go further though, letting his hand drop as he broke the kiss, “If the day gets hard, you know where to find me.”

Your day had become tones of gray, monotonous without having even realized it, your mind was elsewhere and nobles had looked at you with mixed reactions, some in fear, some in disgust. After all, they had all seen you, seen what you had done, what you were capable of.

You had been hold up in the library the last hour and a half though, reading up on some of the policies for building that had a headache beginning to turn up in your head.

Flipping the page you had went to drink your tea only to find it ice cold, the fire crackled at the far end of the library, but here in the nook you had found it towards the window was cold.

Time had passed more than you had realized when you found your husband standing at the front of the table, looking at you expectantly.

You glanced up from your book, “Are you finished with your duties already?” He usually worked later than this.

Jungkook’s nose wrinkled, “I’ve been done for over an hour, it’s nearing seven Y/n.”

Your eyes widened as you glanced out the window, realizing it was dark outside before you looked back at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t even realize…”

Jungkook rounded the table, fingers dragging to your book before shutting it, “Enough of burying yourself in work.”

You frowned before you glanced up at him, “Do you have something in mind for us then?”

“Dinner,” Jungkook replied with a tilt of his head, “But first come, we should check on Fenrir and…you’ll enjoy the walk.”

You took the hand he offered you before hooking onto his arm as you both walked down the hall, it was a quiet night but the glances maids and nobles alike didn’t surpass you, the looks never went away.

You tried your best to ignore them as you entered to the courtyard, lips parting as you both stepped out.

Large fluffy snowflakes fell from the sky, almost shimmering against firelight as they softly landed on the ground, small piles of powder already forming as you looked around, enchanted at the sight, “It’s snowing…!” Your lips twisted into a smile, “I’ve never seen snowflakes so large…”

Jungkook’s eyes softened on you as he smiled, “I figured so, it’s our first of many snowfall to come this winter. I thought you might like to see it.”

Jungkook had led you down to the stables but your eyes were still captivated by the sky, filled with little white puffs that gracefully landed onto the ground, a loud whine however brought you back as you frowned.

“Oh my sweet boy,” You ushered out softly at the sight of seeing Fenrir limp towards you, large tail wagging behind him as you reached out for his face, tenderly rubbing his snout before planting a kiss atop his head, “I’m sorry I haven’t visited you today.”

“I saw him this morning, I let him loose while watching the guards spar,” Jungkook said, “He’s healing, by the time we travel for Yule he’ll be good as new.”

He reached out, giving a firm pat to Fenrir’s side, “We’ll be taking him with us?” You glanced back at him in surprise.

“Wolves will be roaming for food no doubt by the time we leave, it would be most safe to have him with us to scare off any predators.” Jungkook replied with a nod, “...He’s also bound to you, the grief he’d give royal staff would be something I’d never hear the end of from my father.”

You gave him a guilty smile, “I wouldn’t want to part with him either.” Fenrir had managed to lick your face causing a quiet giggle to escape you as you leaned away from him, lovingly stroking his neck.

You had gone inside his pen to straighten out his blankets and to pull out one more thicker one, now that it was snowing you were certain the winter nights would be long and cold, you truly did wish the castle would let him stay inside.

After spending a few minutes with Fenrir you let out a soft sigh, wishing to not have to depart from him so soon, but your duties had kept you all day, and tomorrow would most likely not be much better.

Fenrir as if sensing this let out a whine, his ears flattening against his head and his tail fell, “Don’t look like that,” You whispered out, your heart aching for him as you rubbed his ears, “I’ll be back tomorrow, and maybe Jungkook will let you out again.”

“We’ll see,” Jungkook replied neutral, “Inside Fenrir.”

It was a soft command the Fenrir hesitated to listen too, “Inside.” Jungkook repeated more firm making the wolf whine once more as he went back into his pen, making circles before he laid down, another high pitched whine escaping him.

“I’ll be back soon.” You whispered before kissing his head once more, closing his gate as you tried to not let his whines make you sad.

Jungkook had extended his elbow out to you once more as you took it, sighing with a frown as you gave the pen one last look, “It’s only a day, he’ll survive.”

“I still don’t know why we can’t keep him in the castle…” Your words trailed off at the sight ahead.

A silvery cloaked figured and…Wheein, bundled up in a green cloak, cheeks rosy pink from the chill as you both paused, it hadn’t been fair that you hadn’t even gotten to see her since she had been trialed.

You had immediately left Jungkook’s side, “Wheein!”

Tears filling your eyes as she met you halfway, “Y/n! I’m so, so incredibly sorry!” She whispered out as you both embraced, tears of joy, tears of relief, you weren’t sure, but seeing her in person, being able to tightly hug her.

It had all suddenly rushed in your mind, that what you had committed, why you had done it, it wasn’t just for your own survival, but it was for the survival of someone else, your arms squeezed around her.

You broke away from her, grabbing her hands in our own as you both looked at one another, Wheein immediately noticing your tiredness, “Are you okay?” She whispered out.

“You were nearly executed, I should be asking you that.” You frowned.

“But you…” Wheein couldn’t bring herself to say the words, the silence loud as you looked away from her.

Your eyes dropped down to her own gloved hands before finally back at her, “You are alive, and so am I. I will be okay…with time.”

“You should be at home resting with your family Wheein.” Jungkook had decided to step into the conversation, words softly reprimanding.

“I couldn’t stay away any longer, not after everything that has happened. I owe you both my life, and I wanted to give my thanks for all you have done for me. As well as…” Wheein frowned disapprovingly as she turned to the cloaked figure.

Taehyung.

“I’ve heard about the ill-spoken words.” Wheein stared him down as she let go of her hands, taking a few steps back as she gestured the man over.

Taehyung frowned, scratching his cheek as he shuffled in front of you, “What I accused you of Princess…I cannot take back my words, but all I can do is ask for your forgiveness.”

You gaped as he dropped to one knee, bowing his head, “I spoke without thinking and let my emotions get the better of me.”

“Taehyung…” You whispered softly, true his words had wounded you but you couldn’t entirely blame him, you had no idea what would do if Jungkook was in such a similar situation, “While your words hurt, being upset like that is understandable. We were all afraid of what would happen, I would never hold it against you.”

“Stand up Taehyung,” Jungkook spoke, his eyes not quite as kind as yours but it seemed he had a similar line of thought, “While your words were border treason…” He trailed off, glancing down at you briefly, “If the love of my life was also on death's doors, there’s no telling the hell I would raise.

“Love of your life?” Wheein squeaked out, clearly embarrassed at the comparison, but it made a soft smile tug on your lips.

Taehyung bowed at this, “I won’t speak out of line again. I still hope to one day serve as your hand Your Highness.”

Jungkook snorted, “We’ll see about that. Now you need to escort Wheein back-”

“With all do respect,” Wheein spoke up, a small shy smile on her face, “I would like to return from my leave early, I would like nothing more then to be back in service to the Princess once more.”

Jungkook frowned disapprovingly but you had spoke before he did, “You are always welcomed to return Wheein, your company would be a light that I need right now.”

Jungkook sighed, “Very well, then return to your quarters for the night,” He began walking, pulling you along with him, “And we’ll see you in the morning.”

Snow fell quietly and you could hear the owls trill out, your heart feeling just a little more light, the road ahead would be only just as treacherous, but with Jungkook by your side, and the friends you had made.

You could only hope it would be enough.

#bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook smut #prince!jungkook #prince!jungkook x reader #bts au #jungkook imagine

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oxbellows · 5 months

Text

Welcome Home! Nothing Weird Happened.

Written based on @emilybeemartin's spectacular Boromir Lives AU comics, with permission. I might write more, who knows.

My whole thought process here is this: if Boromir lives and makes it back to Minas Tirith, he is about to receive an absolutely ludicrous quantity of bad news. And I for one think it would be both plausible and hilarious for Pippin to be the one who ends up delivering that news. So here we are!

Trigger warnings for that whole pyre situation from Return of the King.

It was fitting, to Boromir’s mind, that the battle for Minas Tirith should be decided by dead men. So many had died for the city of kings already, their blood seeping into her soil like rain. Why, then, should her fate rest solely in the hands of the living? An unnatural justice rang out in the clang of steel against phantom blades, heralding the return of a hope long since given up for lost.

“None but the king of Gondor may command me,” the wraith hissed.

“You?” Boromir had roared. “You, Oathbreaker? I am the heir to the Stewards of Gondor. Generations of my kin have died for an empty throne. None but the king of Gondor may command ME. Here stands the king of Gondor before us, and you will suffer him as I have!”

And suffer him they did. Sickly green washed over the last armored oliphaunt as the dead claimed more souls for their own. Boromir pulled his eyes away from the spectacle and spun his sword in his hand, scanning the area around him for the next foe. He found none. Only the backs of retreating orcs, and weary Men attending to their fallen brothers. That and, out of the corner of his eye, the strangest possible trio of a Man, a Dwarf, and an Elf. Finding no enemy to engage, Boromir instead turned his step toward the strange trio to embrace his friends in the wake of victory.

Aragorn, king of Gondor, did not appear especially regal at the moment. He was covered in grime and gore, surrounded by the corpses of orcs left to rot in the open field. Gimli’s sturdy metal armor was slick with blood, and it dripped steadily off the edge of the axe that he had slung over one shoulder. Legolas, of course, was only as disheveled as he might have been after a short run, clean of the muck that covered the rest of them. His hair still fell properly at his shoulder, what witchcraft did the Elf use to maintain it?

Boromir could only imagine what he himself must look like. He knew that he was damp and smelled like death, which did not bode well for a lordly appearance. Nonetheless, even in all his heavy armor Boromir felt lighter than he had since childhood. The battle was over, fought now only by those straggling beasts that had not managed to escape the field on foot. Boromir was still, impossibly, alive, and so were his companions. So was his king.

The enemy may yet prevail, but Gondor would not fall before the White Tree bloomed again. It was more than his grandfathers had ever dared to hope.

“Is that blood in your hair or just its natural grease?” Boromir asked his king, sliding his sword back into its scabbard and stepping over the body of a fallen orc to approach him.

Aragorn laughed, raising one dirty hand to skim his fingertips over the top of his head. “I cannot say, Captain. I only know that in either case, I would wash it before I present myself to your lord father.”

Boromir clicked his tongue dismissively. “My lord father’s not the one we have to worry about. If my brother hears that I’ve brought Isildur’s heir home in such a state, he’ll throttle me.”

He almost continued speaking. He almost added, if he’s alive. Aragorn heard the unspoken caveat all the same. His dark eyes had a softness in them when he spoke.

“The battle is over, Captain of the White Tower,” Aragorn said. “We must turn our efforts now to the dead and wounded. May we not find you kin among them.”

If the taste of ash settled on the back of Boromir’s tongue, it could be attributed to the smell of Mordor’s filthy army laying dead at his feet, and not to the terrible image that flashed across his mind’s eye of Faramir’s bloodied and unblinking face.

“My father will be well,” Boromir asserted, determined not to speculate on his brother’s wellbeing. “He is past his time as a warrior. He will have commanded our troops from a place of safety within the walls.”

Aragorn inclined his head in assent. His hair really was a sight- black blood had matted chunks of it together, and where they stood now in the open field, with the sun just beginning to peek through the enemy’s unnatural bank of shadow, Boromir could see that his clothes were in much the same state. Perhaps this was why Aragorn so persistently favored black for his travel clothes. Were he wearing any other color, it would be obvious that he was as drenched in the blood of orcs as if he had bathed in it.

A warrior of staggering skill was this king of Men, but he preferred not to proclaim his deadliness to the world. He tucked it away into shadow until such skill was needed. Perhaps one day Boromir might look upon this man that he called brother and not be humbled by the mere sight of him.

Perhaps.

“I will search with a sharp eye, then, for Captain Faramir,” Aragorn promised.

Boromir closed the distance between them to grip Aragorn’s shoulder in thanks. Aragorn returned the gesture with ferocity, digging his fingers into the mail covering Boromir’s upper arm. Gimli thumped Boromir’s back in a heavy handed gesture of approval, and Legolas bowed his head with a coy smile. A river of unspoken words passed between the four of them, about great and important things like love and fear at the end of the world, and then they released each other. Aragorn turned his stride towards the Citadel to lend his knowledge of elvish medicine to the House of Healing. Legolas and Gimli set out together to help carry the wounded into the city for aid. Boromir made for the rocky outcrop at the city’s outermost wall, the one that archers favored for its vantage point. There he was sure he would find rangers, and hopefully news of Faramir.

The walk carried him past countless dead orcs and uruk-hai, but also more dead men and horses than Boromir had ever seen on a single field. For every pair of comrades he saw embrace in giddy relief, another wail of grief reached his ears from somewhere else. His mail grew heavier with every step he took.

Boromir had scarcely made it halfway to the archer’s outpost before he was stopped by the sound of his own name.

“Captain Boromir!” a familiar voice shouted. “You live!”

Boromir stopped and whirled about. There, about ten yards from Boromir, close enough to the outermost wall to be half-concealed in its shadow, crouched a man in a forest-green cloak. His hands still hovered over a fallen Gondorian soldier, as if he had frozen partway through checking for signs of life. Before the man in green rose to stand, he brushed a hand over the fallen one’s face, coaxing his eyes shut before stepping away. Boromir felt a dull pang of grief in his already overburdened heart at the confirmation that yet another of his countrymen was dead. He had no time to acknowledge that pain, though, as the man in green righted himself fully. The green cloak, brown leather vambraces, and longbow on his back all sparked immediate recognition.

Boromir knew this man, had met him before, but his weary mind failed to provide a name for him. It hardly mattered. The uniform he wore told Boromir everything he needed to know. Faramir had been clad exactly the same, the last time Boromir had seen him. This was one of the rangers of Ithilien, his brother’s own company. Hope swelled painfully in his chest. He hastened his step towards the ranger.

The ranger rushed to meet him and performed a quick, obligatory salute when they were close enough to speak comfortably. “My lord,” he greeted, breathless. “Your father thought you dead, but we in Captain Faramir’s company held out hope.” A wide grin split across his face. “You cannot imagine how sorely you’ve been missed!”

Seeing his smile finally dragged the ranger’s name to the front of Boromir’s memory. “Anborn,” he said warmly. “It’s good to see you alive and well. Tell me, what news do you have of my brother?”

Anborn’s smile dropped, giving way to a look of naked concern as quickly as a candle being snuffed out. “I have no news, my lord, none that is not two days old at least.”

"Then give me the old news,” Boromir pressed, trying not to snap.

Anborn grimaced and nodded. “My lord,” he said, haltingly, “The last time I saw your brother, my Captain, was on the day he rode out to reclaim Osgiliath with a company of forty mounted soldiers.”

Boromir could only stare for a long moment, turning over Anborn’s words in his head to try and make them comprehensible. No clarity came to him. “My brother is- in Osgiliath?”

Another grimace. “If he is still there, he is dead.” Boromir’s lungs constricted and froze. Anborn continued, “Osgiliath was overrun more than a week ago. I’ve heard rumors that Faramir made it back to the Citadel, but I cannot say any more than that without inventing rumors myself.”

“The Citadel,” Boromir repeated. He forced breath into his uncooperative lungs. He would go to the Citadel, and he would find Faramir there with their father, incoherent with frustration after arguing strategy with Denethor. He turned on his heel and started walking. Anborn said something as Boromir strode away, but he didn’t hear it properly over the ringing in his ears.

What he had heard of Anborn’s words clamored in his mind- it sounded as if Faramir had taken a company of only forty men to reclaim an overrun city. That would be absurd, though. Faramir may be prone to bouts of melancholy and brooding, but he wasn’t suicidal. And even if he did, for some reason, decide to seek his own death, he would never bring any number of Gondor��s defenders with him to do it.

Your father thought you dead.

Boromir broke into a run.

Faramir didn’t hold sway over all their troops’ movements. Faramir wasn’t the Steward.

He was moving too slowly. Stumbling to a halt, Boromir grasped at the leather straps holding his pauldrons in place and did his best to unfasten them with numb fingers. Denethor had not been the same in recent years. The shadow in the east had darkened his thoughts, day by day, and set him talking as if the end were already here. His gray eyes had glinted in a way that Boromir scarcely recognized when he’d spoken of the One Ring. He’d never favored Faramir, never encouraged him the way he deserved, but the cruelty that had colored Denethor’s every interaction with his secondborn in the year or two before Boromir left shocked him.

Boromir’s pauldrons landed on the ground in a heap, and now he doubled over to escape the shirt of mail. It was a difficult task without taking off his sword belt, but he managed. He needed to be faster, but he could not bear to go unarmed. The chain links poured gracelessly down over his head, yanking his hair as they went, and then he was free. Boromir took off running again, now unencumbered.

Faramir would never plan a suicide mission.

Would he accept one, though, if he was ordered?

Boromir’s feet touched white marble bricks for the first time in months that had felt like decades. He did not pause. Shouts followed him as he went, calling his name or exclaiming surprise. Arches and edifices flew by overhead. Rubble littered the street. He caught glances of bodies crushed under great stones.

Boromir made it to the stairs. His weary legs burned and protested, but he dared not slow his descent. He needed to know where Faramir was, now. He needed to know what had happened in Osgiliath, before any more ideas had the chance to take root in his head. If he finished the line of thinking that Anborn’s news had set off-

Boromir might kill his father with his bare hands.

So, he would not stop, and he would not think, until he found answers.

He reached the top of the stairs.

A small group of guards, maybe five or six, clustered together at the Citadel gate, all spoke over each other in urgent tones. Boromir could not hear most of their words over his own ragged breath, but he caught a few. He heard “Mithrandir” and “Witch King” and “wood”, and then, “Denethor.”

“Where?” Boromir barked. Every one of the men before him startled and turned to him with unabashed fear written across their faces.

If Boromir had looked a mess back on the fields, by now he must appear absolutely deranged. Half his armor gone, hair wild, white shirt drenched with sweat and blood- he could hardly blame the unsuspecting guards for the shock and confusion they displayed so brazenly at his question. Nor could he blame himself for the urge to grab the nearest one and shake him until he spoke sense.

Fortunately for all present, the guard furthest to the left, a man of slight and youthful stature underneath his plate armor, spoke up.

“The House of Stewards,” he said, voice trembling. He pointed in the right direction. “In the tombs. Both of them, lord and son, with orders from the Steward to be left undisturbed.”

Boromir ran like he had never done in his life.

For what possible reason would his father and brother be in the tombs in the midst of battle?

He threw himself against the door to the tombs of his forefathers. They gave way with no resistance, and as he stumbled through the opening, he noted that the floor was dusted with splintered wood. This door had already been broken through. There he stopped short.

He could not, for the life of him, make sense of the scene before him.

In the center of the foyer, directly on top of Húrin’s memorial etching, were the remains of- a bonfire? Heaps of ash and charred wood covered the usually immaculate white marble floor, built up into a high, still-smoldering mound in the chamber’s center. The air reeked of smoke. Neither Denethor nor Faramir were in sight, nor was anyone else. The tombs appeared deserted.

“Faramir?” Boromir called warily.

A clang of metal and the scuffle of unshod feet on stone answered his call, and then-

“Boromir!”

A small form collided hard with his midsection, forcing him to take a staggering step back. Small arms wrapped around him like a vice, a familiar vice, and Boromir abruptly realized that he was in the embrace of a hobbit.

“Pippin?” he demanded, aghast.

The young hobbit turned his face up to meet his gaze and a fresh wave of panic seized him. Pippin’s face was coated in ash and streaked with tears.

“Boromir!” Pippin cried again. “You have to help, Gandalf said that healers were coming but nobody came, there was screaming in the halls so I dragged him as far as I could but he’s heavy and I don’t know where Gandalf went and just- just- come here!”

The hobbit released his iron grip around Boromir’s waist in favor of clutching one of his wrists and started hauling him off to one side of the room, into a corridor of mausoleums. There, poking out of the nearest alcove, Boromir spied the lower half of a single black boot.

Pippin pulled him onward when his own pace faltered. With each step he could see more of the body that Pippin had apparently tried to drag to safety. A small, or rather, hobbit-sizedsword lay carelessly discarded on the floor beneath the alcove’s arching entrance where Pippin had dropped it. That would explain the clanging sound Boromir had heard just before being tackled, then. Which would mean that when he called out, Pippin had been guarding this archway with sword in hand.

Pippin’s relentless tugging finally forced Boromir to where he could see the stricken man on the floor.

It was Faramir.

Of course it was Faramir.

A rough, strangled sound echoed through the quiet tombs, and Boromir only realized a moment later that it had come from his own throat. Pippin darted from his side to kneel at his brother’s head, petting his hair and murmuring a soothing word. Faramir did not react in the slightest. He wasn’t dead; Boromir had seen enough dead men in his life to know with unfailing precision the difference between a dead body and a dying one.

No, his brother was not dead. He was only dying.

Boromir dropped to his knees.

In all this time that he had dreaded coming home and hearing that Faramir had fallen in battle, it had never occurred to Boromir that he might watch him die.

“He needs medicine,” Pippin pleaded, his little hand nestled in Faramir’s hair. Boromir now saw that the hobbit was dressed in the garb of the guards of Citadel, mail under a velvet tunic embroidered with the white tree. What had happened in his city? When had this barely-trained halfling become his brother’s last line of defense?

“Go,” Boromir rasped. He touched the hilt of his sword. “I will protect him now. Go to the House of Healing, down one level. Aragorn is there. He will listen to you.”

Without another word, Pippin took off at a sprint. Boromir and Faramir were left alone, together for the first time since Boromir had left for Rivendell.

Boromir wanted to scream.

Instead, he maneuvered himself carefully to sit at his brother’s side. How Pippin had managed to stash Faramir away in this little nook, Boromir had no idea. He could only just find room for himself against the wall without jostling the motionless body beside him. He reached a tentative hand out to lay it on Faramir’s forehead. He paused before he touched skin, momentarily stunned by the radiating heat. When his fingers settled on his brother’s brow, it was like touching metal that had been left in the sun too long. Faramir burned. Boromir gently smoothed his hand over damp hair.

It wasn’t just Faramir’s hair that was damp, actually. It was everything on him. His short beard, the finely embroidered collar of his tunic, the silk of his sleeves. If his fever was so high, it was not so surprising to find him coated in sweat. The choice of clothes, though, was undeniably strange. There was no blood staining the fabric. Had he not been hurt in battle, then? Had he simply been taken by a violent illness? Was there a plague in the city? That might explain the lack of gore but not the presence of finery. Boromir had only ever seen Faramir wear this tunic for ceremonies. He wouldn’t have put it on before battle, and he would certainly have taken it off if he were falling ill.

No, the only reasonable conclusion was that Faramir had not been the one to dress himself. A terrible, unspeakable suspicion wormed its way into his heart.

Boromir almost regretted sending Pippin away without first asking him what had happened to create this bizarre tableau. Almost. His answers could wait until Faramir had been brought safely into the care of physicians. He lifted his hand to stroke Faramir’s hair again, but the slickness that clung to his palm bade him pause.

That wasn’t sweat in his brother’s hair, it was something else, something more viscous. Puzzled beyond words, Boromir brought his hand close to his face to inspect it.

His palm was smeared with oil.

All at once, a dozen disparate fragments of information arranged themselves into nightmarish clarity.

Someone had dressed Faramir for a funeral. Someone had brought him into the place where the bones of their ancestors rested and covered him in oil. Someone had lit a bonfire in the center of the tombs.

Not a bonfire. A pyre.

Someone had tried to burn his little brother alive.

“No,” Boromir whispered, as if he could prevent his next thought from taking shape.

Only one person in Gondor could do any of this without being stopped.

In the tombs, the guard at the gate had said. Both of them, lord and son, with orders from the Steward to be left undisturbed.

Boromir launched himself upright, out of the cramped alcove, and was sick all over the marble floor.

For the second time in a day, Pippin found himself running for someone else’s life. At least he didn’t have so far to go this time. He could not remember ever being so tired. It was also fortunate that he knew already where to find the House of Healing. Gandalf had insisted he memorize the route there as soon as he’d made his oath to Denethor, which was a bit insulting, to be honest, but turned out very useful in the end.

The first time he’d entered the House, just a few days ago, he’d thought it was very full. Most of the rows of clean, simple cots had been occupied by rangers returning from outside the city. As he dashed through the sturdy oaken door now, though, he entered a different world entirely.

The cacophony of sound, smell and movement that surged up to meet him stopped Pippin in his tracks. The House of Healing was so crowded he could not see the far wall. He could barely see the nearest row of cots. Tall ladies rushed about in every direction, shouting orders to one another above a nauseating din of groans and cries. Pippin had been standing guard in a cloud of smoke for hours, and yet the onslaught of ugly and unfamiliar smells that accosted him here made him wish for the scent of smoke again.

His foray into the front lines of a battle had been terrifying. This place might be worse.

Boromir had said that Aragorn was here, though, and Pippin would walk headfirst into an army of orcs right now if it meant that Aragorn would help him. He never wanted to be in charge of anything, ever again, especially not trying to keep great lords and heroes alive. Aragorn was good at that sort of thing, he could take over now. Pippin took a deep breath and began forging a path through the chaos, calling Aragorn’s name as he went.

As he weaved his way through cots, ducking underneath outstretched arms and around long legs, Pippin heard questions following him that he had no desire to answer.

“How old is that boy? Who let a child in the guard?”

"Is that one of those halflings? The wizard’s pet or something?”

“Are you lost, little one?”

Some of these Men had the most terrible manners, clearly. Most of them were bleeding very badly, though, so Pippin could forgive them for their rudeness. He ignored them all and kept moving.

“Aragorn!” he shouted again.

A women that had been rushing by him paused for an instant to glare down at him. “Hush, you,” she scolded, in a voice that spoke of unquestionable authority. She wore a sort of veil with a nice brooch on it, so Pippin supposed she might be in charge here. “Lord Aragorn’s doing very important things right now and I’ll not have you disturbing him.”

Pippin’s heart jumped. “Where is he?” he asked.

The woman tsked and shook her head, making to continue along her original path. She held a bowl in her arms that Pippin was quite sure he did not want to see the inside of. Whatever it was sloshed unpleasantly when Pippin lurched after the women and grabbed a handful of her skirt to prevent her from leaving.

“The Steward has ordered me to fetch Aragorn! Show me where he is!” Pippin declared. He didn’t think it was a lie. Denethor was dead, so that made Boromir the Steward in his place, probably.

The woman gasped in surprise. “Lord Denethor lives?” she asked. “Wondrous news, we thought lord and son dead already.”

Pippin avoided the question about Denethor by standing up as straight as he could. “Lord Faramir needs medicine,” he said imperiously. “He needs Aragorn’s skill. Take me to Aragorn.”

With a quick hand gesture to follow and not another word, the woman took off walking at a brisk stride deeper into the crowded hall. Pippin had to run to keep up with her. After what seemed like a dozen maneuvers around clumps of people and cots, a figure clad all in black finally came into view.

“Strider!” Pippin cried with relief.

Aragon knelt at a young man’s bedside with a wet rag and bowl of water in his hands. He turned his face at once toward the sound of Pippin’s voice, a genuine smile gracing his lips as he did. Some of the panic that had been driving Pippin these last several hours faded away at the sight. If Aragorn was here, then surely things would get better now.

His relief faltered a bit when Pippin noticed that Aragorn was simply covered in blood- both red and black, and sweat, and grime that Pippin could not begin to identity. The Men gathered round him didn’t seem to mind Aragorn’s state, but then, most of them were splattered with blood as well, probably their own. Even Aragorn could not dispel the somber truth hanging in the air, that unimaginably many people had died today.

Faramir would join the dead soon if Pippin didn’t get a move on, so he marched past all those tall, bloodied Men to stand right at Aragorn’s side.

“Faramir’s dying,” he hissed, hoping he was quiet enough for none but Aragorn to hear. He didn’t especially want to deliver more bad news to the people in this room. “Boromir is with him, but he needs medicine, now.”

If Aragorn found this news distressing, he did not show it. He just nodded thoughtfully, and asked, “Can he walk?”

Pippin shook his head. Aragorn hummed an acknowledgment and rose to his feet. He handed the bowl and rag he’d been holding to another woman that Pippin hadn’t noticed before, murmuring something that sounded like instructions. He then spoke to the lady that had led Pippin, the one who seemed to be in charge.

“Ioreth,” he addressed her. “We have need of a stretcher.”

“It will be done,” she said, and turned on her heel to vanish back into the crowded hall.

Aragorn wiped his hands on his trousers to dry them. Pippin suspected he made them dirtier in the process. “Pippin,” Aragorn said. “Will you please lead me to Boromir and Faramir?”

“Yes, this way,” Pippin answered quickly. He was eager to be out of this terrifying place. He found it easier than before to navigate through the throng. He realized after a few moments of uninhibited movement that people were stepping aside to make way as soon as they saw Aragorn following him.

Had Aragorn already gotten around to being crowned while Pippin was busy? These people were certainly treating him like a king.

“Did you already become the King?” Pippin asked without thinking.

Aragorn chuckled dryly. “No, and I don’t think the lady healers would much care if I had. They care only that I know how to draw out the poison that covers many orcish blades, and that I’ve shared what I know.”

“Oh,” said Pippin, feeling queasy.

Finally, the door came into sight, and with a quick burst of speed, Pippin flung himself back into fresh air. Mostly fresh, anyway, permitting for some lingering smoke. The smell of blood and death that lingered in his nostrils seemed even more vile when contrasted against another, cleaner scent, and it made him gag. Aragorn placed a sympathetic hand between his shoulders.

“The battle to save the wounded is the hardest and the bloodiest,” he said gently. “There’s no shame in being shocked by it.”

Pippin couldn’t quite speak yet, so he bobbed his head in a jerky, shaking nod. He allowed himself two deep breaths before turning his attention back to the task at hand. Right. Faramir. Shot full of arrows and nearly burned to death, currently stashed in a mausoleum, actively perishing of fever. He had to bring Aragorn there, and then maybe he could sit down for a moment. He set off again at a jog.

Aragorn, being unfairly long-legged, could follow him with a brisk walk. Pippin was growing weary of these big people, he really was.

Back over the same cold marble stone he went, retracing his steps to the tombs. Two men carrying a stretcher had started following them at some point- Pippin hadn’t noticed exactly where they came from, but the stretcher they carried was already stained with red, so he suspected that they had been going back and forth from the House of Healing for a while already. Aragorn let there be silence between them for several yards, but began asking questions as soon as they crossed under a crumbling archway.

“What happened to Faramir to leave him needing medicine?”

“He was shot at least twice, I’m not sure when. Sometime yesterday.”

"Where has he been?”

“Well, he got shot when he was fighting in Osgiliath, and then the horse dragged him back, and that probably made it worse, actually, but then Denethor put him away someplace for a day or so and then brought him into the tombs and tried to burn him alive.”

Aragorn froze for a moment. “What?”

“Denethor lost his mind just before the battle started, he tried to burn Faramir alive on a pyre. And himself too, I think. He thought the world was ending.”

“Where is Denethor now?”

“He jumped off the wall.”

Aragorn took up walking again, now at a faster stride. “Boromir is with his brother now?”

"Yes,” Pippin confirmed, doing his best to keep up with Aragorn’s pace.

“Does he know what happened?”

That was a good question, actually. Had Pippin explained the situation at all? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember most of today, to be honest- it was all a blur of screams and fire.

He remembered the blinding panic he’d felt when heavy footsteps had entered the tombs. He remembered clutching his sword with sweaty hands and bracing himself to get torn to shreds by uruk-hai, and then abandoning his sword to hurl himself at Boromir once he’d heard the man’s voice. What had Boromir said, though? Anything? Had Pippin said anything?

He remembered Boromir dropping heavily onto his knees. The look on his face had been awful. He looked sad and scared and sick all at once. Pippin had never been sure what the word anguish meant, but he was sure now.

“I don’t think so,” Pippin finally answered.

Aragorn muttered something to himself, a string of elvish words that Pippin had never heard before. It sounded like what Legolas said when he missed a shot, though, so Pippin could wager a guess at what it meant.

At last, they reached the door to the House of Stewards. Pippin darted through, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Aragorn was still following. Through the foyer, around the smoldering remains of the pyre, down the corridor on the right, and there they were. The lords of Gondor. Not quite as Pipping had left them.

Boromir had extracted Faramir from the alcove where Pippin had dragged him to lay his brother out in the open. The fine silk tunic Faramir had worn lay in oil-soaked shreds scattered about the floor, and the mail shirt he’d had on underneath was similarly cast aside, half-obscuring a puddle of vomit near the entry to the alcove. Pippin was sympathetic- being in this place made him want to retch, too.

Faramir lay on his side in his undershirt. The fabric had been white once, Pippin knew, but blood, oil and ash had colored it through. Boromir knelt at his back, holding him steady by the upper arm with one hand and gently tearing the cloth of the ruined shirt with the other. The cloth didn’t move the way it should when Boromir tugged it. It stuck stubbornly to Faramir’s scorched upper back and shoulder, like it had been glued there.

Pippin gasped in horror as the realization hit him. Boromir couldn’t get Faramir’s shirt off because it was stuck to his burnt skin, fused in place by the heat of the fire. Had his skin melted? Could skin melt? The thought alone sickened him.

Boromir must have heard Pippin gasp, because his head snapped up to fix the hobbit with a wild stare.

Pippin didn’t usually think of Boromir as frightening. Fearsome, of course, but not to his friends. Certainly never to Pippin.

He looked frightening now. His eyes were wide, and his pupils were tiny pinpoints. His lips were pulled back into an animalistic expression, somewhere between a grimace and a snarl, showing just a hint of teeth. His shoulders curled forward, hunching slightly over Faramir’s still form, and through his thin, damp shirt Pippin could see he was shaking with pent up energy.

When Pippin was younger, one of Farmer Maggot’s dogs had gone missing. They’d found the creature hiding under a shed, nursing a bleeding paw, growling and snapping at any hobbit that tried to approach. Boromir did not make a sound, but Pippin swore he could hear the same wounded dog’s growling all the same.

Pippin felt rather than heard Aragorn approaching from behind him, and it was a great relief when Boromir’s gaze flicked up off his face to fixate on Aragorn instead. With what seemed to be a tremendous effort, Boromir opened his mouth to speak.

“Where is Denethor?” he rasped, voice shaking.

Aragorn took a cautious step forward, moving in front of Pippin. He held his hands up, fingers splayed open, the way he did when trying to settle a spooked horse. “Boromir, my brother-” he began, voice soft and steady.

Boromir interrupted before he could take another step. “Tell me where my father is, Aragorn,” he croaked. “Tell me so I can find him and gut him.”

“He’s dead,” Pippin blurted. “He set himself on fire and then he went off the edge of the wall and died.”

Aragorn stiffened. Boromir’s jaw went slack. He heard gasps from the men carrying the stretcher behind him.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have spoken. Gandalf was always telling him something to that effect.

Boromir let out long, low groan and slumped in on himself, bowing his head so low his forehead grazed Faramir’s hair. He released the firm grip he’d been maintaining on his brother’s upper arm to grab fistfuls of his own hair instead.

Aragorn moved swiftly to kneel beside Boromir. He wrapped one arm around Boromir’s shoulders and pulled him into a lopsided embrace. Boromir went without protest, deflated and boneless against his king. Aragorn spoke to him, too softly for Pippin to hear, and coaxed him to shuffle backwards just a pace or two to create space at Faramir’s side. The two half-forgotten men with the stretcher between them seized their opportunity and swept in to gather Faramir up. Boromir twitched forward when they lifted his brother, but Aragorn held him back with a hand on his chest. With quick, synchronized steps, Faramir was taken out of the tombs.

Louder now, so Pippin could hear again, Aragorn spoke with real regret in his voice. “I must follow them. I promise I will give all the skill I have to make Lord Faramir well.”

“I’m coming,” Boromir stated.

Aragorn fixed him with a hard stare. “It will be ugly,” he warned. “I’ll have to cut the shirt off his back, and I expect much of his skin to come with it. If he wakes it will be to scream.”

“I know,” said Boromir.

“I would rather not find your blade shoved through my heart while I work.”

Boromir flushed. “I would not.”

Aragorn raised one eyebrow. “All the same, if you wish to follow, leave your sword at the door for my peace of mind.”

Boromir opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it and simply bowed his head in assent. Aragorn hauled himself to his feet and offered Boromir a hand up, which Boromir accepted without hesitation.

“Can I help?” Pippin asked, surprising himself.

Aragorn eyed him up and down. One corner of his lips twitched upward. “Yes, Pippin, I think you can help us all very much by staying at Boromir’s side and keeping him calm. If you have any more news to deliver, however, perhaps you could share it beforewe enter the House of Healing?”

Pippin recognized the admonishment for what it was and ducked his head, chastened. On the other hand, now that he mentioned it-

“Gandalf’s staff is broken,” he announced.

Aragorn closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I see. Thank you, Pippin. Anything else?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Very well. If you think of something, take Boromir out into the hall and tell him.” Aragorn turned to Boromir and spoke sternly. “Boromir, if Pippin takes you out into the hall, I forbid you to pick up your sword until we have had a chance to speak.”

Boromir huffed out something very close to a laugh. “Wise council, my king.”

#@emilybeemartin #lotr fic #Boromir Lives AU

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 month

Note

could you do a yandere demon mitsuri or shinobu with a demon slayer darling

Demon Slayer Reader in Reverse AU | Yandere KNY

In this alternate universe the hashira are the equivalents of the Upper Moons. Unbelievably strong, incredibly devious, and just as responsible for innumerable deaths as their creator. You on the other hand are like Tanjiro Kamado, a demon slayer dutifully following the orders of Muzan as he’s determined to finally stop the rampant killing that those demons do. But there’s something special about you. Something that the demons just can’t deny. That has them persistently chasing you their greater their connection to their beloved creator. Maybe it’s the blood of their kin, or your kissable lips, or the curses you mutter as your sword doesn’t slice through their necks. Either way they are down-bad:

Mitsuri Kanroji

Turned after being rejected for her strength and differences

Now she uses them to eat scores of humans particularly the most bland people she can find

Can you believe just how few people she actually loves?

Too few people are special because of their differences or physical traits

Which means she’s happily devour all those who don’t which is a lot

She of course claims it’s love at first sight when she sees you

It really can be something as simple as a colorful hanafuda or being deaf

Anything unique to you makes her weak in her knees

“You’re making me so happy just to have met you! I love you!”

So busy fawning over you, she barely misses your swing

Stronger than others she only falls for you deeper

In her twisted mind the blood of Ubuyashiki makes beautiful people of his divine choice even more beautiful

Thus her mission when fighting you is to turn you

So she can have your beauty be eternal

“Don’t avoid me for long my Love! I’m going to make you perfect soon!’

The biggest challenge other than her flexibility, the cherry blossom flooded air, and her insane physical strength is her beau

Rarely does the Demon Moon of Love leave without the Demon Moon of Snakes in tow

And while for your first meetings he definitely is not trying to keep you alive for the change

After he get’s to know you and a nice talk that involves lot’s of dying lower rank demon slayers they’ll both be on the same page

Which will spell absolute doom for you as the conniving duo is not going to bother being upfront

They’ll scheme

They’ll plot

Hold your tsugoko or friends from up high as they take advantage of your heightened emotions

“I want to love you forever and ever and ever. And no one is going to stop me! Not even you”

Shinobu Kocho

She was turned along with her sister who Ubuyashiki saved after she fell ill

For years prior she had devoted herself to science, to medicine only for it to fail her at every turn

Only when she incorporated the great Ubuyashiki’s blood into her creations does she find proper results good results

And she is praised with having so many willing addicted meals and servants to offer as she produces her remedies for masses

Interacting with prey so often gives her a better way to hide and know about the demon slayer’s actions

And amateur slayers that come into her shop swords drawn are usually bullied by the surrounding towns folk

All to be beaten up and kicked out of the town becoming easy pickings at that point

She thought she’d do the same to you

By the way you walked she could sense your power and her mortal end coming closer

But you didn’t attack

Surrounded by many of her loyal customers you ask that she try the contents of a vial to tell what it is

Since it’s suspicious to the people you offer to drink it, another villager drinks it

“You’re the greatest medic in this region. Won’t you tell me what it is and where to find it?”

It’s Wisteria

Potent and poisonous wisteria

Here shinobu is faced with a choice

Attack you ruin her reputation and have to deal with a mob

Or…

drink it and writhe revealing her demon form to be attacked by the mob

“You think you’re a cunning little butterfly don’t you. Flashing your poisonous colors at me. You aren’t aware of the hunger you’ve aroused in me!”

She wasn’t happy as a human with the limits she had

So she doesn’t choose any of those options opting to kill everyone

You block the attack finding out it’s a feint for her to run away

Run away with a snarl that she hasn’t shown for hundreds of years

How dare you!?

Ruining her perfect system

When she reports to the Ubuyashiki compound by night she’s got her head down low while reporting

As expected she was chewed out not only by The Ubuyashiki but the Upper Moons as well

And there is one person she blames above all for her shame

“That despicable little demon slayer!! I’m going to make them pay!”

Her hatred for you becomes a widely welcomed truth among the other demons

Hanging your whereabouts above her head

As she snaps at them like a snarling dog

But her hatred is not simply that

She wants to own you

To hold your face as she successfully demonstrates her mass attack absorbing all within the vicinity

To clip your pretty little wings and delight in your forbidden flavor for as long as possible

When one of her colleagues theonesheclaimsshehatesthemost pressures her she’s rambling to him about how she’d never want to actually kill you nor turn you completely into a demon like she

“They’re not good enough for Master…but it’d be a shame for such a beautiful butterfly to die so quickly.”

So she’ll turn to science

Once again using her expertise to craft some serum that she plans to keep you attached to for the rest of your not-so mortal life

She’ll use her own blood measuring and testing how little is needed to give you the best parts of being a demon

She knows the clock is ticking as your life goes on

So she’ll be excited to track you down, learning as much as she can about you

Almost as much fun as she’ll enjoy making simple humans that remind her of you as test subjects

She’d even be willing to get help from one of the Upper Moons with her hunt for you

“I hope your ready for a change, butterfly! There’s nothing I can’t do without his blood.”

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cryptidclaw · 9 months

Text

Star Firesight!

Bonus! Healer/Second Firesight:

And Outsider/Apprentice Rusty/Fire:

Design Notes:

I redesigned him again despite saying I would stop doing that... Prev design and old bio here.

He still has a lot of the same features as my previous design, i mostly just changed his pattern and coloring! I wanted him to be a rustier color!

I also changed his cheek fluff to be round, mostly just for an interesting face shape! his cheek fluff hangs a little more flat when he's older just to give him a more matured look (hes been thru some shit, his cheeks hath deflated)

Character Bio:

Star Firesight

(Fireheart/star)

Bisexual & Polyamorous; Trans Tom; he/him

Age as of 1st arc's beginning: 7 moons; 11 Hyrs

Age as of 1st arc's end: 2 cycles, 5 moons; ~26 Hyrs

Title meaning: -sight = this cat can spot things that others cannot; a cat with a close connection to the Stars; this healer receives many signs from the Stars; the healer may also be very good at spotting illnesses or injuries.

Outsider -> Healer -> Second -> Leader of Thunder Order

Mentor: Redtail (died) -> Spottedleaf

Mother: Nutmeg

Father: Jake

Sibling: Sapheart (Princess)

Half Siblings: Socks; Ruby: Tinyclaw

Mates: Sandstorm; Shriketail

Kits: Squirrelflight (sire: Sand); Leafpool (sire: Shrike); Foxleap (sire: Sand); Icecloud (sire: Shrike)

Grandkits: Star Hollyleaf; Falconstrike; Jaywing; Alderheart; Sparkfire

Other notable kin: Cloudtail (nephew); Snowshoe (nephew); Mistletoe (niece); Spiderleg (nephew); Shrew (nephew)

Notes:

Firesight has chronic pain (and mobility issues later in life):

Fire has the Scottish Fold breed's mutation which effects cartilage in the body, this causes his ears to fold, but it also causes chronic joint pain and can progress into swollen and inflexible joints.

For Fire, he is has the heterozygous version of this mutation, which means that his disability progresses more slowly, as a young cat he does experience some joint pain, with some days being worse than others. He is able to medicate with his own chronic pain herbal mix he created as a Healer. However as Fire grows older his joints will worsen, and by the time of his old age he will be unable to jump and some days is unable to walk.

He is able to still use his medication to aid him and is able to lead a happy life, but he is disabled and I didnt want to leave that out of his character! It's important to have disability rep (and spread awareness of the issues with the Scottish Fold breed) and I hope I serve him justice!

Character Summary:

In Progress (to be added later)

...

[Image 1 ID: a digital drawing of Star Firesight, an AU version of Firestar from Warrior Cats. He is standing with his left side showing and has a proud and happy expression with a smile. He is a short, chubby and round shaped rusty orange and red tabby tom with small folded ears and green eyes. his chest, underbelly and paws are all a lighter shade of orange, and he has a red stripe down his back as well as a single red swoop shaped stripe on his side. He has red to orange striping on his face and red freckles on his cheeks. His right ear is brownish-black, he also has a small black spot above his nose and a black stripe on his back. He has a white flame shaped spot on his chest, a white muzzle, white paws and a white tail tip. He wears yellow flowers and green leaves in his pelt and a simple crown rests on his forehead made up of a diamond shaped red stone and a small teardrop shaped white stone below it./End ID]

[Image 2 ID: a digital drawing of Firesight, an AU version of Fireheart from Warrior Cats. this drawing is almost the exact same as the first image, but in this he has no crown./End ID]

[Image 3 ID: a digital drawing of Fire, an AU version of Firepaw from Warrior Cats. this drawing is almost the exact same as the first image, but in this he has no crown, or flowers and leaves adorning his pelt. his face also seems younger and he has a brighter happy expression on his face with his mouth open in a smile like he is talking./End ID]

#millionth redesign lol #cryptidclaw's warriors au #rise of change #firesight #firestar #fireheart #firepaw #firestar design #fireheart design #firepaw design #firestar au #warrior cats au #warrior cats design #warrior cats #warriors

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1nthedarknessofthenight · 2 months

Text

﴾ i drink your blood and i eat your skin, part nine.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x f!reader

genre: vampire au

word count: 17K

warnings: suggestive

masterlist

playlist

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Was is it love or was is it obsession? Or perhaps it was the need to possess someone, so the only thing they could see, hear or taste was him. Your fingers grazed over the page that you kept reading over and over again. “And you, their best beloved one, are now to me, flesh of my flesh; blood of my blood; kin of my kin; my bountiful wine-press for a while; and shall be later on my companion and my helper.” Your frown deepened at those words.

Were you just as blinded as her? There wasn’t any love, only the need to dominate. Were you just as blind as Mina was too blind to see the truth? This portrait of love — this obsession was completely different from what you have seen with your own eyes. You thought that maybe reading would make you feel better, see that you are not alone, but it only made your thoughts worse. Her supposed lover was nothing more than a greedy man. He didn’t love her. He didn’t.

Though somehow you feel like it didn’t reflect your situation at all, the story progressed into something completely different than you thought it would. You thought it would make the fog disappear and help you understand him better, but the confusion is only greater now. He is not the same as the man in the book. He wasn’t cruel to you. He wasn’t a bad man. He saved you, was nothing but kind to you. He was a real person afterall, more than a few words in a book, more than a creature thriving from the fear of the innocent.

You can’t just let words on paper tell you how to feel. You just have to go to him and…then maybe you could finally see him for he truly is.

You close the book, sighing at sight of all the other books on the nightstand that were still waiting for you, placing the one you were holding on the rest of them. Your right hand played with the soft fabric of the sheets — cold. Your eyes then flicker to the spot next to you, caressing the dent left behind and somehow you just don’t have the heart to smoothen down those wrinkles.

You remember the way his cold skin felt on yours, so piercing that you don’t even remember any fabric separating you two. He isn’t here, but it is like you could still feel him. You hate yourself for pulling away, so abruptly that you were yourself hurt by your own lack of touch. You just can’t help yourself from thinking that one day he would just vanish, like he was just a figment of your imagination. That you would touch him and he would turn into nothing — but you already now that won’t happened…You have touched each other, hands on each other’s skins, delicately grazing in a sense of eagerness…hunger. You could see it sometimes in his eyes, just for a split second, like he didn’t actually want you to see it. Maybe to not scare you away...but it only made you want more.

For how long can you pretend that he isn’t the only thing you can think about? From the moment you met him, there wasn’t a time of the day when you didn’t thought of him, dreamt about him. From his voice, to his simple smiles, eyes and lips…you hope this isn’t turning into what you think it is. You did feel this emotion easily, too easily and you are determined to stop it from ever coming out again, as you only got hurt in the process. But this feels different from any other time, because it felt like it wasn’t only coming from you. You don’t know what to do…you really do say that a lot. You didn’t even know him and if you did get to know him, would it change — or would it become even more difficult to ignore?

You have to keep yourself occupied, so you wouldn’t think so much, but every time you were with him, it seemed like you didn’t think at all. Almost like you were comfortable enough for him to think for you. After all those moments, when you finally got your moment alone, you always thought about what you should have said instead. However you realize that each time you spoke to him more and more, you would become more honest with your answers, but still being bashful enough to say more than a few words. You think that sometimes your own words confuse you, because you kind of got used to not talking so much. But he did listen every time. Carefully going over each syllable that would fall from your lips, looking at the smallest of changes in your expression.

Letting your feet carry you to the closet, you become highly aware of how quiet it is. Every step you took, the floor creaked under your feet that high pitched noise echoing in the silent room. Somehow you hated it, the silence. You did get used to it, but everything that happened yesterday made shivers ran down your spine. Your eyes would stare around each corner of the room, just waiting for something or someone to jump right at you.

The feeling of being watched made goosebumps appear on your skin, anxiety stabbing you in the heart that only seemed to acrease on speed. The thing that scared you the most was the fact that you didn’t want to be alone. Your eyes started to play tricks on you, making you see things that weren’t truly there, but you just knew that somehow there was something — someone just lurking. Creeping up on you and the thought made you feel like a scared little girl. Was it the need of being protected that made you want to be closer to him? You hate that somehow it wasn’t the only thing.

He did make you feel safe — still remembering how it felt to be in his arms. You think you are slowly starting to lose your mind…

Your fingers wrapped around the handle to the closet, opening it, ready to pick the robe hanging on the inside of the now open door, but your hand only glazed over it. Your eyes were dead set on a piece of clothing that you thought, you would never see again. You didn’t even realize it till now how much it was imprinted in your mind. You don’t even register your own hand, falling on the soft fabric of the shirt, however as you do that you almost jump away when you suddenly feel something touch your fingers. You know that it is slightly inappropriate for you to run through his closet, but you simply thought it was yours and you were already pulling the shirt from the hanger.

You could remember exactly how the fabric shined under the moonlight that night. How it almost mirrored the river and how it got stained with…blood. Your lips parted as you see the stain at the front of the shirt. It still felt wet, fresh, but your fingers weren’t coated in the red liquid, it was only the cold fabric tickling you. You take in a deep breath, smelling the irony smell from the blood as well as the smell of him. Why did he not throw it away or at least washed it? It made you feel a little uneasy and it wasn’t because you were holding something stained with someone’s blood.

It was the thing that he probably kept it like this because of you…He kept it like a trophy.

You started to become slightly sick at the thought of him just keeping it like this for you. The shirt started to get wrinkles from your tight hold as it burned your skin. You can’t forgot when he basically told you that he stalked you every night after that. You don’t think he redeemed himself enough to win your trust. Maybe it was just his nature, but you can’t help yourself from feeling relief wash over you as you put the shirt back in the closet, closing the doors quickly after that, like it would jump on you.

A heavy breath leaves you then, before deciding to just ignore this little information. Should you ask him why he kept it? And also admit the fact you were basically going through his stuff? You couldn’t possibly survive the embarrassment. You will keep quiet for now, maybe to see if you would get even something more creepy out of him. This definitely isn’t the only thing that he didn’t tell you…

You walk away from the closet to the other, opening it and realizing that you didn’t even took the robe. Though as you stare at the gleaming fabric of those dresses Hyunjin was so happy to give you, you completely forgot about your usual option of attire. ‘I wish to see you in them…’Your fingers hover over a dress that particularly spoke to you, tugging it to you. The soft yellow and pink color reflected in the light, multiple layers spilling over your fingers. So soft to the touch and light — you couldn’t help, but sigh at the feeling.

As you took it off the hanger, even knowing this is a gift for you, you somehow know that he will be the one getting the most pleasure from seeing you dressed in it.

────

Your lips puff out as you exhale, flickering away the loose piece of your hair that fell into your line of vision. The door, still closed, like a barrier, seem to mock you. It was calling you a coward. You stood few feet from it, the distance almost feeling like it was truly miles away. Somehow it was, because you felt like you were doing a big step. You spend a good time putting yourself together — and it seems like it was only for him. However after putting that dress on, the soft pink and yellow fabric spilling around you, hair brushed and pulled loosely up, you realize you also needed this.

Were you only this nervous, because you were scared of what he might think of you? You have never seen yourself like this. The expensive dress hugged you so well and you become highly aware that he somehow had to sneak in to your own home to know your exact size. Was it thoughtful and nice or just borderline creepy? Both you think…You are really being nervous because of him. That scared you more than him telling you, he didn’t like what he was seeing.

You take a careful step forward. Feeling your legs get heavy, hands clamping together, sweat pooling inside your palms. You still can just walk away, dress back in to your nightgown and just lay back into the bed. You are your biggest enemy right now, waiting to see if you truly have the courage to let him see you like this, knowing that it was mostly just for him. You really can’t do this…not going further, but back. Back to being your old self again, scared and just surviving. You can finally go and do something about this thing you were calling life. And what do you even know? Maybe if someone truly is trying to kill you, this might be your only chance. As silly and overdramatized as it sounded, it is the truth. So you do take a step. Each one feeling lighter and lighter, the ringing in your ears clearing up and the fog before your eyes disappearing as you got closer and closer to your destination, before you finally stood right before it.

Your eyes fall firstly to the light peaking under the door, before following the length of your skirt, fingers immediately smoothing down the invisible wrinkles. Your hand exchange to the handle, seeing yourself in the reflection of the gold, letting you get a last look at yourself, before you would open it. However you wondered if you should knock firstly. Battling with yourself, you decided to just let yourself in, but before you could do that a muffled sounds came from behind the still closed door.

Frown falls on to your face, fingers just grazing the cold metal of the handle. From what you could hear, there were probably multiple people talking at once, almost sounding like they were having an argument. Before you could stop yourself, you were already listening in, trying hard to ignore the fact that you are literally eavesdropping right now. The hushed voices were too quiet to pinpoint at least the topic of the conversation, making you press your ear to the wood. You want to justify yourself that you are only listening to know if it is a proper time to come in. The mumbling voices died down at your move, making confusion strike you, little frustrated of not getting anything. The cold wood touching your ear suddenly seem to burn you or maybe it was just the embarrassment as you almost jump right out of your skin when there is a sudden booming voice piercing through the silence.

“You know…it’s not very nice to listen to someone else’s conversation.”

You cringe at the fact you were just caught, feeling so stupid of even trying, because you sometimes forget the fact that this house has ears everywhere. They probably already knew about you from the moment you step out of the bedroom and you just had to embarrassed yourself further.

You take a step back, hand tugging at the top of your dress, like there is an invisible collar choking you. You were actually ready to just turn around and leave, running down the hallway in embarrassment and falling down on to the soft bed in hopes it would swallow you whole. However you don’t even have time to take another step back as the same voice, now softer, like just knowing about your own inner battle, spoke up and you know your heart could be heard pumping even through the door. “Come in.” You think you do recognize the voice, but hearing it in such soft tone as well as also through the heavy wooden door, you can’t put a face to it.

Do you want to? You are now acting like if you wouldn’t embarrassed yourself, you would be already inside, fully confident in yourself. There probably isn’t a way out of it now it seems. It would only be rude of you to just walk away and ignore their invention. You were so curious about what they were talking so passionately about till now…You start to feel sick, anxiety bubbling inside you the more you just stand there. Your eyes fall back to the handle, hand reaching out and twisting it, hearing a satisfying click. The sound echoes a little in your head as you open the door wider, before finally stepping inside.

The second you close the door behind you, you finally look up. The room was lighted only by the big fire place right behind the long table where they all sat. Your eyes, before going to them, look around the room. It seems like every room had its own personality — this one made you feel safe, however the authority and dominance radiating from the men before you, made you also feel so little. On the walls were few paintings and you let your eyes travel to each one of them, but one particularly stood out to you.

On the painting were the same eight men who sat just a few feet away from you. The painting was almost the whole size of the wall and seemed recent, but what can you know — they probably never changed since. Their eyes held power, the real ones piercing through your skin, giving you a real sense of how truly powerful they feel.

Your head turns to them, stopping on the man who sat on the left end of the table. You remember him from yesterday. Longer blond hair, eyes darker than a night, but they seem to flicker golden the longer you would look into them. He looked the youngest out of everyone, but those eyes were telling you that he has seen more than you could ever imagine. Next to him was the dark haired man you met at the stables and not like his friend on his right, you did know his name. Seungmin, his eyes held the same color, right hand playing with a cup that held a suspicious red liquid. However he held a small amusement at your silence, almost like enjoying the attention you were giving him and as the right corner of his lips started to turn up, you had to look away to the next one.

This one also smirked at you, but it was softer, sweet even. His features were delicate, cheeks round, eyes hidden behind his hair. You almost thought that you haven’t met him before, but as his head tilted ever so slightly at your stare, you realize you did know him. You have met him briefly, well seen him. You didn’t know his name either, but you were sure this man was with Minho the night at the club. Remembering the way he calm down the usually, cold man when he was upset about something. You at that look at the said man and of course he didn’t mirror the happy expression as the man next to him. You didn’t expect anything else from him, but you note that he was the one who spoke up when you were behind the door. It was like his eyes were just telling you it was him, still slightly shocked about the fact that he could even talk in such tone as his face didn’t seem to match it. Maybe it was just a mask, still being careful around you, though you both know, you wouldn’t be able to do anything.

At the center of the table sat the man you had just few ocounters with. On the day you were basically kidnapped — you don’t think you will ever forget or forgive about that and also yesterday when it happened. You from the moment you first saw him just knew he was somehow in charge here. Everyone here was…but he looked like the leader. Almost scary aura radiated from him as he looked you up and down with his brown eyes. The way the fire gave him a halo around his head, made you again unable to look any longer at him, because he was simply too intimidating. So your eyes then fall on the man on his left. Now, how can you not remember him? The man who held you hostage in his arms, the man who made you feel so useless and weak under him. You remember the way he was so smug about the whole situation, finding it even funnier when you try to wiggle out his grip and he reminds you of that time again as the corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly. Your own lips purse at that, already knowing he is thinking about that memory.

From the same day, you remember the man with even longer hair than the first one. You think that out of everyone, he seemed the most happy with your presence — other than the man with puffy cheeks. Felix, if you remember correctly. You remember his name, because he was the one who was the first to show you real kindness. When you felt scared, he made you feel safe in this foreign house. You do have to thank him for that someday. Your own face softens at the bright smile he sends your way, eyes twinkling in the orange light of the room. You just couldn’t help yourself from giving a small smile in return, but it fell as you looked at him.

Hyunjin couldn’t look away from you the moment you stepped inside the room. If he did need to be breathe, it would only be taken away from him simply by the sight of you. You were a breath of fresh air, delicate as a flower. You do remind him of that as his eyes kept trailing over your figure that was wrapped in a dress which he specifically picked out for you. It warms him from the inside, head completely clean of every thought. The colors complimented you so well, looking even more beautiful in the soft orange light coming from the fire place.

His lips were parted, simply in awe of you. He realized, he was starting to get soft. Just a look it all took for him to feel at your mercy. When his eyes fell onto your features — that beautiful smile you just shared with his friend still lingered on your lips, softly bitten and pink. He can’t argue with the fact that he was also slightly jealous as you haven’t given him such a soft and bashful smile before. Though he felt small pride at the fact that he wasn’t the only one mesmerized by you.

Your heart skipped a beat the moment when you first looked at him. The blue eyes of his, you become quite found of, held softness so deep, you couldn’t help but feel giddy inside. He didn’t say anything to you yet, but his eyes told you everything you needed to know. He liked what he was seeing — he liked…you. In a sense of you dressing up for him, you have to remind yourself…

A cough coming from the man at the center of the table, makes you snap out of your thoughts, head turning to his direction. “Please–“ He spoke up, hand gesturing to the empty seat right next to Hyunjin, almost like it was meant for you all along. “–as you were so eager to join us.”

An embarrassed sound comes out of your mouth, hearing that only made him more amused. “I didn’t mean to…” You say, rather quickly. Looking around the table, before a sigh leaves your lips. “But if I’m part of this conversation shouldn’t I be present also?” The man next to Minho gave you a grin in return, the whole table a little shocked by your sudden statement. You actually just had a small feeling that the conversation was about you, but by their reaction it seems like you assumed right.

You then make your way to the chair meant for you, eyes completely everywhere, but him. Hyunjin at your closeness quickly stood up from his seat, straightening his back, before going around the table to pull out the chair for you, making you momentarily stumble as the movement was so quick it almost scared you. A short laugh leaves you at your own doings, expecting the gesture by looking up at him. You did meant to only glance at him, but as he was already looking at you, it made you jump slightly. The closeness your faces were in made time froze, but you do quickly got yourself out of it at the realization you two were not in fact alone, a whole audience right before you. Not like something would happened if they wouldn’t present.

Hyunjin wraps himself around your natural scent. The way your hair was up, made you completely bare for him to take in. His eyes just for a split second flicker to the prominent vein in your neck, skin looking so soft that he has hard time controlling his hands. His knuckles turn white as he let himself stand behind you, his own casting a shadow over you. These quick moments that felt so long for both of you, weren’t definitely missed by the others. He, other than you, did look at them, almost rolling his eyes at the obvious teasing looks.

A laugh, so quiet you couldn’t possibly hear it, was released from the youngest’s lips, a few smiles being shared in return. You look up, eyes traveling to the man who held the most authority. He looked at you with a hard stare, but the furrow in his eyebrows told you, it wasn’t anger, but concern instead. Concern over you.

The more you look at each other, the more the others seem to notice the change in the room. “Y/N.” He says and at the sound of your name you remember his. Chan. “Someone knows that you are here and I won’t sugar coat this situation any further…you are in danger and not only you, but also your closest.”

Air gets stuck in your throat. How did you not think of that? A new sense of fear strikes you, eyes wide, frightened. You felt horrible that you didn’t think of this yourself. Your mind was till now so occupied, basically only thinking about your own safety first. You know that if you would voice out your thoughts about how horrible you are starting to feel, because you didn’t even think about your loved ones, Hyunjin would immediately shot those thoughts off. You are grateful for him being so concern about you, but he just needs to understand that you are also concern about others. You could feel his stare at the back of your head and you are sure that he already knows about your feelings.

You can’t breathe from the thought of someone hurting Mia or the Johnson’s, eyes unwillingly stinging as you look up from the glossy table to Seungmin. “This someone only after few days of you being here, knows about your presence and position.” He says, red lips pulled in a thin line. Even if he didn’t seem like the type to show emotions often, you could just feel the worry radiating from him.

Those nights that you spend here, felt so quick and blurry in some way to you, but they were probably enough for someone to notice you. You can’t help, but feel confused. You know about their powers, but you didn’t spend so much time outside for anyone to see you, but even in the few minutes when you did, this someone certainly wanted you to remember that day. The logical and frightening truth probably is that they already knew about you from the beginning, maybe even right after Hyunjin made his appearance…

“But how?” You breathe out, looking over the whole table, throat dry. “I mean, why my presence matters anyway?”

Chan shakes his head at your words. You should know that you do matter, you are significant. The brunette looks at his family, before again looking at you. “After being on this earth for more than a millennium, we all made a lot of allies as well as enemies and those who seek revenge, now have seen a new light, hope…” He clasps his hands together, gesturing at you. “And you are it, Y/N.”

Your head swirls, fuzzy from his statement. Goosebumps rise all over your body, feeling how the fingers behind your head tighten around the headrest, wood cracking slightly. “It also doesn’t help that you are human.” Continues Minho, stating the obvious for the whole room.

It is quiet after that, the only noise being the flames licking at the wood in the fireplace. Were all their enemies so scared of them that they didn’t have the courage to even try going after them firstly? You can’t question this person’s motives as you are easier, way more weak opponent. However you are simply not getting over the fact that going after you, is meant to hurt Hyunjin more.

His lost half, soulmate held captive, tortured, only held alive for them to ease their thirst or just killing you — it makes him sick to his stomach.

The dark haired man is again the one slicing through the silence as he takes his cup before him, sighing into it, throwing back anything that is left. “Or we can make it easier for you — you know just a little pain and…”

You don’t know if it was meant to be just a little teasing remark, but you weren’t really in the mood as well as the others. Your whole body vibrates when the man behind you growls at those words. The noise came from the back of his throat and if you would just turn around, you would quiver at the horrifying sight of his eyes turning completely red. “Now it’s not the time for jokes, Seungmin.” Hyunjin sneers, looming over you, like caging you into him and you could feel his scent really pulling you into him.

The man that just joked, gives him a funny look, but you can’t miss the brief look at others who are also a little shocked, but not surprised. They have never seen Hyunjin so protective over someone like that, but they can’t judge him, because Seungmin’s words were really not fitting.

Though you can’t keep yourself back from thinking about the offer. You don’t think you could, you actually feel like this is the first time you felt alive as wild as it sounds. The thought of how long you will stay alive did come over you. Hyunjin is immortal and you are just a human. Would he let you live? Get old? You don’t want to think further, because you are still not close enough to each other to even think about this. But you do wonder if in the future, you would really think about this offer…

The thought of death leads you to the present. You were close to it multiple of times since you met him and you really can’t stomach that something like those things or even worse would happen to your friend Mia or the Johnson’s family. Your lip quivers, but you still held your unshed tears, knowing that they won’t help you in this situation, knowing that they would only make you feel deeper, make you blind. You need to think and quick about how to safe them from this person. You don’t even care about yourself anymore.

“So because of that my family — my ehm…there are in danger just because of me?” You whisper, already knowing the answer. Your voice unwillingly broke at the end, not missing everyone’s darkened expressions.

You swallow the lump in your throat, breath momentarily hitching as you feel a brief touch at the back of your neck, making you turn your around. Hyunjin leans over you, giving you a look of determination, his fingers still playing with the short hairs at the back of your neck. “We will protect them. I will make sure that the best of my men will be there to protect them, at night and even at day.” His voice is firm, letting the weight off your shoulders slightly fall as he sounded so confident in himself.

You give him a look, sort of sweet for a split second, catching the frown on his face soften. “This is so….I just don’t understand.” You really do say that a lot, your brain really can’t take all of these things at once, finding this whole situation — reality quite insane. Why did everything became worse? Now you are scared even more, because someone you didn’t even know wants to intentionally hurt you and more.

Hyunjin’s blue eyes flicker to the wrinkles on your forehead, wishing that they won’t become permanent. He couldn’t say this, but he also feels lost. He thinks that before all of this it was already hard for him, but now someone is trying to hurt you again. And he thinks that he maybe will not be enough. They were so close to you…He will not stop fighting for you, he will protect you, even if this someone could be anyone, he will protect you. Hyunjin knows that it is wrong to feel like this somehow help him and you get over the less important things, letting each other see both of yours more vulnerable sides.

He again, straightened his back, but he lets his body rest on the side of the armrest of your chair. The subtle move and you letting him be so close to you, meant so much for him. His gaze falls on to his dear friend, blond hair tugged behind his ear and by that he could see the concern on his soft features. Everyone is concerned for you, but him being the closest to him — he couldn’t help, but feel the most determined to eliminate this danger. “What should we do?” Felix cuts the tension.

“What can I do?” You join in. You can’t let them get into this without you. You know that this is probably their issue to solve, but you are still relevant.

“Nothing.” Says Minho, looking at you like you just grew second head. “We do nothing.” He looks around the whole room, his words shocking you and you definitely weren’t the only one confused about his verdict.

Hyunjin stares at him with wild look, scoffing at his statement. “I’m not going to sit here and wait, knowing that there were this close to her.” He says, voice raised, but you don’t have the courage to say something to him to calm down, because something tells you that maybe you shouldn’t be taking this lightly at all. Yesterday you try to block out everything that happened, but it was only the beginning to this horrible person’s plan and that did make you fear for your literal life.

“If they wanted her dead, they would’ve done it by now.” Says now the man who you only met the first day here, the one that hold you captive in his arms, but it all seems so long ago to you now. He held his head high, hand rubbing his chin. “They are seeking something more.”

You did already know that but hearing it like that makes you shiver from the unknown. “Yes, but if we do stay quiet, we will only give them time to build an alliance with everyone we’ve ever wronged.” Points out the vampire next you, looking up at him, just catching him stumble over his words. Though he held his voice leveled, the look of distress can’t be missed. You are starting to feel even worse, knowing that all of this is just because of you.

“Hyunjin’s right–“ Speaks up the man with puffy cheeks, leaning over the table to see you properly. “This isn’t just about her anymore.” What did you got yourself into? What did you get them into?

The man in the middle sighs, clasping his hands, gaining everyone’s attention. “So we shall do the same…we will make even more powerful army.” Chan then glances at you, reaching his hand out to you, like he wanted to touch you. “We will protect you.”

The way he voice out those words made you feel like there is something more to it. The undertone didn’t come unnoticed, everyone’s mood shifts into something you couldn’t quite understand. There was a hidden meaning in his statement and they all seem to be on high alert.

“If you’re referring–“ Starts off Minho, but he is only caught off by the elder.

“I am.” Chan says, making his brother only blink at his answer.

Confusion from your side is obvious, watching how the room turns glum. You can’t help, but look at each one of their faces. Some had their lips pulled down, others try to keep their faces as hard as possible, but in all of their eyes shined the same thing, completely different from the emotions they are showing. You turn your head, trailing your eyes from the hand wrapped on the armrest, going up to the length of it, before you stop at Hyunjin’s face. He didn’t turn his head to you, his Adam’s apple subtly bobbing up and down as he could feel your hard stare. They all looked unsure, sad…scared. Your lips part at your assumption. Can there even be something for them to be frightened of? Maybe it is not it fully, they are hiding something though, you will have to know sooner or later.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, eyes going everywhere around the room and Minho is the one to answer to you, eyes reflecting the flames in the fireplace.

“We are talking about the first ever vampires.” He sighs through his nose, head hanging low. “The same vampires that created us.” You choke over your answer, before realizing that you don’t even know what to say to this information. You sit up straighter, invested. The first ever vampires…

“We were their first ever creation and that made us equal. We are known as the second strongest vampire clan.” Chan continues, you holding your breath. “The original vampires can’t be killed, because it would also mean that every other vampire that was ever created would die with them…their blood bounds us all together.”

“Every vampire yearns for power.” Hyunjin says, looking down into your wide eyes. “They can’t kill the strongest, so the only option for them is us…it’s not the first time someone tried to take over everything we made.”

“The originals don’t care about anyone.” Says the blonde at the far end of the table, but his eyes are set on the table before him.

“We became unusable for them after a while…” Says Minho through gritted teeth, the man with soft features putting a hand on his shoulder, but he only shrugged it off.

You have never seen Minho since you met him so emotional, it only answers your question if the vampires that created them were somehow close to them. Your head spins slightly from all of the things you just heard. “So someone is trying to get to you, through me?” You ask, whispering, but you know all of them could hear you.

You are just stating the obvious and you can’t help, but become again concern, but it was now for them. Someone is trying to use you, knowing that at least one of the members of the second strongest vampire clan would try anything to prevent them from hurting you. Something is telling you that Hyunjin would not be the only one protecting you. If something would happen, each one of them would protect the other. You don’t know him for that long…but just the thought…the thought of something happening to him makes your heart ache. You can’t breathe simply at just the thought, hand pressing into your chest. You could feel your heart jumping wildly, awful, painful feeling coming over you. “But why?” You breathe out, mostly to catch your breath that was stolen from you.

“Jealousy must of the time…why were we picked over them?” Felix answers you. “But also, because we couldn’t control our hunger for many years, creating vampires unknowingly, because we killed their loved ones…” His teal eyes, flicker to the man next to you, before going back to you.

“We’ve done many terrible things, all of us.” Chan explains, listening to the sudden rapid beating of your heart, not ignoring this subtle sign. By it they could tell that your feelings you were expressing were genuine. “And also — no one likes being told what to do after some hundred years or so, they want new rulers.”

“We take orders from the originals.” Says to you the strong man next to him. “We have a list of every vampire ever created and take responsibility for keeping humans unknown of our existence.”You still at that, leaning your back into the chair as if to make yourself smaller. You are not scared that they would do something to you, but you just know that them going against the rules, because of you maybe meant even a bigger threat to their undead lives.

Hyunjin could feel your body go solid for a second, leaning his own on the back of your chair to possible tell you to not be frightened, but as Minho speaks, his efforts go completely unnoticed by you. “You’re human and you know about us, but maybe if we would talk this through with them, they wouldn’t have to kill you.”

Everyone could hear the small noise coming out of your mouth, noise of complete fright. However you feel that death is really becoming such a close friend to you in some way or another, but you still don’t feel charmed by it. You feel like both ends are slowly closing around you, your fate sealing right before your very eyes. “Kill me?” If you all would just wait, there is a high possibility of this person to just snatching you from them as they were already so close to you. If you would all come begging the oldest vampires for their mercy, it would also lead to possible death.

You don’t even hear the room anymore, eyes wide open, staring into the palms of your hands. You think you are drowning yourself slowly into the thought of death. You can’t help the small tears of horror forming in your eyes. You don’t hear anything for a moment, their voices just a high pitched ringing sound.

Hyunjin never felt so defeated before while looking at your state. So pathetic of him to not be the only one to protect you, but if it meant for him to visit his past to save your future, he will do it. Your hands shake from your nerves, so many emotions seeping out of you, intoxicating the air in the room. His hand travels from the chair to your high cheek bone completely unknowingly to him till his cold skin touched your burning one. He feels your body melt at the subtle touch and before you can’t even react yourself, your head tilts up to look up at him.

The ghost touch from the tip of his fingers move the fine hairs away from your sight, blurry eyes gazing into his. They were suddenly so deep in color that you for a moment stop the thoughts running through you, calming your racing heart like a sweet melody. A voice cuts in to the shared moment of vulnerability, your hearing suddenly clearing, not even realizing the conversation still kept going.

“If we tried to hide her, it would only raised more chaos. We all know the rules, because we helped creating them.”

Everyone knew the high possibility of all the vampires taking this opportunity to strike, but at what cost. This all could lead to something greater than your death. You could be the leading cause of a massacre, you could result the death of him, them, your loved ones and possibly even more people. You are starting to see the cost you will bring if this doesn’t go well planned. Even creatures like vampires, had their own rules and would happen if they would be free? You really do not want to know.

You swallow your unshed tears, eyes still on the man before you. Hyunjin doesn’t look away from you, even for a second, chest rising, like showing you to take deeper breaths. It did help you find your ground again. You are starting to feel more leveled with your emotions and it is only because of him.

As you calm down a little from the rollercoaster of emotions, you just realize how much silent it is. Everyone seem to be deep in their own thoughts, lost. Every thing they will have to do has to be well planned, though everyone seem to notice that anything still will be risky. They are walking on the edge. You can’t hide the fact you are angry with yourself that you could bring them to their possible downfall. Everything they did to make vampires live at the edge of society, unknown to normal people could be turned.

The blonde at the end of the table chew on to his lip, before his teeth nip dangerously too deep at it as something comes over him. He wants to laugh at his own idea — maybe thinking too deeply about this situation is not the key. Less is more. Even with your decisions, you sometimes have to take the obvious option. His brothers could make out the sudden shift in him, as they all lived together for so long, they are basically one.

“Why should we hide her?” He says, gaining all of their attention. “We should celebrate…perhaps a ball.”

The faces gained are obvious disbelief and confusion with his request, but they don’t immediately disagree. However you probably out of all of them seem to be the most against it, as it is maybe too risky and little provocative. “A ball?” Repeats the other blond vampire, testing the word on his tongue.

The other shrugged, the uncertainty in his tone obvious to him, because he also isn’t so sure with his own idea, but he still will stand by it. “Isn’t there supposed to be a celebration ball after a vampire finds his soulmate?” Celebration like these weren’t so unknown amongst vampires, it is almost like a tradition. Though as finding a soulmate is so difficult, near impossible, there wasn’t a ball like this in a very long time. Considering that one of the oldest, most powerful vampire did find himself amongst a human, it would really pick up the interest.

The vampire, on the left of the leader frowns. “Yes, but wouldn’t that be provoking?”

Minho humms in thought. “Maybe.” He says, starting to see what his younger brother meant by this idea. “But it sure would pick up their interest and give us some leverage.”

Your eyes follow them, each word however making your confusion bigger. The pull at your eyebrows is noticed by Hyunjin who answers those racing thoughts in your head. “Every time a vampire finds their soulmate there is celebration.” The word, the status of your relationship rolls out of his lips with a different tone that you do pick up as also his ocean blue eyes gave away how much this simple word means to him. “Before they take their vows for an eternal life together.”

He says the words slowly, each syllable piercing through you like it was some kind of a spell. He before saying that felt unsure, perhaps even shy voicing them out to you. Your breath hitched, eyes widening while still looking into his. He knew about this, but didn’t tell you. Maybe because to not make you uncomfortable, seeing as you till a day ago let him in just a little. You just started to become vulnerable, deciding for yourself if you even want to have something with him.

You don’t want to say you are now forced to be by his side, you don’t want to say that these walls around you are slowly cracking…However the thought of marriage, vows that are maybe totally different from the normal ones meant everything. It would mean that you will be forever his…

Your lips parted, a small noise coming out of you, you are simply speechless. Hyunjin watch the small reaction, taking it as maybe not so good one. He can’t judge you. He is immortal, he lived multiple lives, but you are still on your first one. And maybe even your last…No, he won’t let anything happen to you. Just the memory of your tear stained face, your scream of terror ripping out of your chest makes him sick. If you do not want him, he will understand, even if it hurts to see you so against it.

You never knew that they would be even the possibility of you getting married. Meeting someone who would love you till death will do you apart. But you did meet someone, he was death. Walking in the shadows, living and thriving at night, while you roamed through the day, surviving. Could you really marry him? Let him be the one to possible lead you to your death and then never see the light again. Would you let him turn you after a while? Would you truly love him even after he would turn you?

You drown in your thoughts again, falling silent, joining the others who also didn’t have anything else to say. They felt like this should be discussed in a private matter, maybe even romantic, but all of them knew there isn’t much time. The others feel bad for you two that you didn’t even have the time — time to get to know each other, fall for one and other. They don’t want to say that there is not hope for you to see the truth and for Hyunjin to expect your possible loss. Every vampire in the room knew about how important the thing that happened to you was, they do not wish for your death, but they also can’t let themselves fall.

“As said we’re quite old fashioned.” Cuts the tension the man next to Minho, laughter way to sharp and inappropriate, so it only dies down hallway at the reactions sent his way. Minho pinches him at that, making the other yelp dramatically, though it does ease the tension in some way.

Your vision set on the palms of your hands is dimmed as Hyunjin steps before you, blocking the light of the fire. “Y/N…” He calls out to you and to your own shock you do look at him with sorrow expression. He looks stressed, chest rising with heavy breaths that you knew he doesn’t have to take, eyes wide, trailing all over you. “It doesn’t mean that we would be married, just because of this situation — I don’t want you to think that I’m only using you–“

The urgency in his voice to and justify himself is heard and you do believe him, it is just…absolutely crazy. “No…I understand.” You mumble, gaze falling back to your hands, because you couldn’t watch his face fall even more.

There is some truth to your words, you really did understand and you were so eager to help just minutes ago, but this? Is this really the solution to this problem? It seemed risky, plan incomplete. They will put themselves into spotlight, showing off and provoking their enemy who could also possibly be at the event. The original vampires, if they would attend, will determined if you should live or not and if you somehow do, it still wouldn’t mean they would protect you. Well, if the enemy won’t get to them first.

“It is done then…” Chan says, his voice echoing around the room, making you look past the vampire before you to him. “There will be a ball as soon as possible, so it won’t seem like we’re hiding this information — your presence from the higher.” He ends his speech, not missing the small mumble from the raven haired vampire, still gripping your chair which you sit on.

“Something tells me that they already know.”

────

What happened after that became a blur, you could see from the corner of your eye how all of them stood up, walking their separate ways. Some stop to watch the fireplaces, some went to pour themselves drink and others just left. Hyunjin was one of them. You didn’t miss the way he look at you. So empathic for you, but he himself couldn’t help, but feel sad. You watched him stand up to his full height, how he pulled his long black hair back behind his ears, how he didn’t spare you another glance.

He always gave you a moment of peace to think and you hold yourself tightly to the chair, so you would do the same for him. You realize how difficult it actually is to hold yourself back. You want to tell him the truth. That you don’t in someway feel oppressed from the idea of you being his, but you just couldn’t…because you can’t accept it yourself. You can’t let these sudden emotions change everything that happened so far. However you do not want to overthink again, because you do it all the time. You want to talk to him.

You stand up, stumbling momentarily as your feet felt like jelly, while looking around the room. From the still two unknown men standing next to the fireplace gazing into it, to Chan drinking with the man that you for a split second met at the club. They stood next to a small stool, on it few glasses holding different colored liquids, but the one in the leader’s hand you could recognize as whisky. The crystal clear glass twinkles, inviting you. You decided to at least talk a few words with him, let him see that you are more than just a scared little girl, but you just know that these creatures always knew more about the person than the person themselves.

You pick up the front of your dress, making your way around the table to the two men drinking. You are sure that they are all waiting for your next move, counting your each step, listening closely to your heart — even if none of them still didn’t look at you, it felt like you are being analyzed. The aura they all radiate is unbearable, yet alluring — like a poison. You wonder if it comes with the gift of eternal life or if it just comes from the heart.

As you stop in front of Chan, he pours himself another glass, head still turned away from you. However the one next to him doesn’t look away, big doe eyes glaring into your soul and you are having a really hard time to look away from such intense gaze. The older fills his drink hallway, cocking his head into your direction, looking at you like he didn’t already feel your presence. “You want some?”

You stumble for a second over your answer, the amber color does look delicious, but you really don’t have the appetite and also it wasn’t your drink of choice. “No, thank you.” You say simply, watching him pull the glass to his plump lips, swallowing it all in one go. You are not sure if you should be impressed as vampires don’t probably feel a thing, only the subtle burn at the back of their throat as you learned in the past. Finishing his drink, he sets the glass back down on the table and then again looking at you.

From your past encounters, you weren’t so close to each other, so you are more obviously taken back by the vibrant color of his eyes. They looked dark from far away, but up close they look like dripping honey, like the liquor inside his glass. By the look of his, you realize that he is giving you a silent question mark, like he just knew you wanted to say something. You blink rapidly, waking yourself up, hair at the back of your head standing up at his gaze, but mostly at the vampire’s next to him. “I just…I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say exactly, but thank you, it is–“ You shutter over your words, eye screwing shut in small embarrassment. “I know the risks you are taking for me. You don’t even know how much this means to me…” You laugh shortly, feeling your cheeks burning when from the corner of your eyes, you see the other two vampires at the fireplace turn to your direction. “All of you are family and I am so sorry that when I came into the picture — I just ruined everything…I don’t want anything to happen to you, all of you. I kind of wish that Hyunjin never met me-“

“No.” Chan says, stopping you for continuing, making you jump at his voice. He sounded angry and when you look up at him in shock, you see it with your own eyes. “You really don’t know what this means to a vampire — to a person to find their soulmate do you?” He stays quiet for a split second, you only shaking your head softly. “When we become death, everything is more vibrant, clear, with our powers we also see the truth. There is nothing left for us to do. We are only lost souls roaming the earth, taking other’s energy and life to somehow fulfill our own.”

You see something in his eyes, something hidden, but you do not dare to even move at his sharp words, eyes falling onto the man next to him. “Soulmates exist. Humans can’t have soulmates as they do not feel the connection, they do not cross death and come back, they don’t have the ability to see beyond. As a vampire you see a new light, you can feel it, see it.”

“It was a bond known between two undeath people, but never a human and a vampire. The fact you can feel it too, even if everyone can tell you are trying to hide…it is extraordinary.” Explains to you further the blonde, scaring you as he stood right behind you. Turning to him, you glance briefly to the last man next to him who watch you closely like everyone else in the room. “You and Hyunjin are the perfect balance. Maybe your fate is already being written, maybe you are meant to become like us…but what if not? This bond maybe is so strong that it can defeat death itself.”

“Do you now see how important you are? You are not just a normal human to us and everyone will see that. We won’t let anything happen to you.” Chan says to you. You can’t help the warm feeling spreading inside of your chest. “You do not have to apologize or be greatful. You are family now.”

You feel tears forming in your eyes. How can you not be grateful? They are all so kind to you, you have never felt so appreciated and seen. Your mouth opens, but you can’t find the right words. He said not to thank them or apologize, maybe because these words were so little and not meaningful for creatures like them. You think that even if you kept saying these words, it wouldn’t be enough. You believe them, but you do not know if you believe with their statement. Nothing about you is extraordinary…however you can see this thing between you two. You thought the same as him, maybe you are just too good at hiding your feelings that you become blind yourself, but the fact is that you somehow you can’t be compelled by him. You don’t know why, but both of you know that this meant that you two are meant to be together, he can’t make you feel things for him because — you somehow already do…At the night on the bridge you could feel it so greatly, but now you are only trying to make these things go away — what if this would only end up in another heartbreak?

You flash the man before you a small smile, knowing that if you would even dared to say one of those forbidden words, he wouldn’t let you go till you learn otherwise. “Where do you think I could find him?” You want to shake your head at your own idea, sheepishly fidgeting under their gazes. You think you do need to see him, you think he needs you. He let you take the first steps, simply because to not overwhelm you, but you are slowly becoming unsure of these feeling you are so desperately trying to hide. You need to see for yourself if you are really being honest with yourself…but also you want to see him. You can’t let him just walk away from you anymore.

The blonde comes into your line of vision, a teasing smile spreading across his face. His eyes twinkle almost teasingly at your question, but not so surprised by it. “His workroom propably, he’s there all the time — go down the stairs, turn left, it’s the door with a painted flower on it.”

You take all of the information to your heart, silently repeating the words to yourself, because you just know you would forget otherwise. You give a nod in return, stopping yourself before you could even mutter a thank you, but you do catch the small smile of amusement on Chan’s lips. You leave silently at that, head turning to give them a last small look, because you just couldn’t resist. They really could mesmerize you by their own presence alone.

Your footsteps didn’t feel heavy as the other times you walk your way through the house, but you can’t help yourself from going back to the conversation. Learning about your importance, seeing that your existence could harm your closest. You trust Hyunjin and the others with keeping their word that they will protect them, because they all know how even not blood related family can be the most important thing in the word.

You need to talk to Mia. You need to hear her voice. You know that you can’t say anything to her, but you need to make sure everything is alright and that they she just didn’t disappear. You do not have much friends, but the ones you have were always in your life, you didn’t even realize it till now. You are so used to their presence that being without them is like losing a part of yourself. However the last part already became known…

If it comes to the question yes or no, you don’t want to say the first option only because you had to. You want to get to know him, he’s not seducing you, he’s actually just being himself. Maybe this magic pull he held is just the bond. Though even if you could feel it yourself, the need to think of him every moment when he’s not with you, needing him to look at you when he is — you really need to know if this isn’t just some kind of a trick. Is he smitten with you only because of the bond or is a truly you?

Your head starts to throb, so many thoughts at once that you didn’t even realize you already walking down the stairs. The whole house in some way feels so empty, unknown, because they were so many different wings, rooms and stairs leading to somewhere you do not known. You only been down here, when you ran out of the main door which you walk past right now or the other time when you actually took your first walk outside. Now you don’t even want to think about going outside, even if the gardens look absolutely breathtaking.

With the curtains closed, you only see a small streaks of orange light coming from the sides, letting you take a peak at the setting sun. You are starting to feel like one of them, because the day would go so fast for you, the night really is the more lively one by of the bunch. You don’t stumble over your feet, because of the few candles lit around the house. You wonder if they just don’t like electricity or are just really old fashioned, but you do appreciate their old spirit.

You are thankful that they didn’t do anything to this magical place. You could just tell by a single look that it was just kept in touch, loved. You really are surprised that you didn’t know of this place before this, you are sure it would be very popular in some sense, but also this meant that you must be somewhere completely cut off from any civilization.

The door wasn’t really hard to miss. The description gave to you was spot on, but it lack the depth. You have never seen such a beautiful painted door before. It was a red rose, petals springing out while the thorns and leaves went up to the edges of the door. The details, outlines made of gold and when you came closer to inspect it more, you realize that the whole piece was molded. You couldn’t help but trace your finger over it, marveling at the colors that in some places were faded, maybe from the age.

You smile softly at the soft detail of the handle — a smaller rose at the end of the handle which look like a few tangled stems. At the sight you however don’t let yourself in or maybe again eavesdrop again, because you know better than that, so you raise your hand, knocking carefully on the door. Few pieces looked particularly sharp and you don’t want to risk cutting yourself in a house full of vampires and also you are scared to even touch it more than that because you don’t want to destroy it by your clumsiness.

You hear noises on the other side of the door, loud footsteps, stopping before it. You gasp out as the door swings open so wildly that it knocked the air out of your lips, hair falling into your eyes. However you could still see Hyunjin’s face controlling into a small shock at your appearance, like he couldn’t just feel you through the wood.

“Y/N?” Is he really that surprised to see you? “Do you need anything?” With his next words he closes the door a little, not letting you have even a glance inside. He frowns down at you, thinking that something must have happened and it kind of did, but it was way more simple than he expects. He doesn’t see your bashful expression, his concern blinding him. “If there’s anything you need, just ask one one of the servants, I can’t right now-“

“Oh…” The noise stops him from continuing, watching the way your fingers bunched up the fabric of your dress. He still can’t believe how beautiful you look…”I came here to…talk.” You swallow the last word, but he could still hear it.

“Talk?” He repeats, tasting the word on his tongue with a concentrated face.

You want the ground to swallow you whole, because how difficult is it to talk? Nervously you fidget even more as he straightened his back, standing up to his full height. The way he towered over you is too much for you to handle, because he looked too good looking down at you. “Yes, I wanted some company, but if you don’t have the time—“

Hyunjin hides his shock behind his long hair. Is he even worthy of your company? You probably don’t even know how much your words warmed him. His cold heart jump at your honesty as yours pumps so fast, because you were actually nervous. He thought that maybe after that you would go back to your isolation. Talk to him only if necessary. Because the conversation held back in the room felt like something you wouldn’t like to talk about anymore and maybe you don’t…you really want to talk to him…

He is taken back by your words, mind swirling, eyes going back and forth at your expressive gestures, because you are simply becoming even more embarrassed. For once you did the first move and he just told you he didn’t have time for you, but how wrong you were about….

He stops you with his hand, mouth hanging open as he shakes his head at your expression. “I would really appreciate your company.” He says, a small smirk on his lush lips. You feel your tense shoulders relaxing at his answer, watching closely as he moves out of the way, opening the door wider. “Please, come in.” His hand is still holding the heavy door for you, even as you take a step in, the top of your head catching his outstretched arm. You hold your breath as you pass him so closely, you just know he did that with an intention.

The room is a little bigger than you expected, because a work room simply isn’t supposed to be so big. Though you quickly realize why it is like that, separated into sections it. Everything, everywhere — on the walls, on stands, on the multiple tables were paintings and drawings. You wish for more light to see fully on the canvases, because you become simply speechless at the sight alone. You walk around, finding different angles, even more art to look at.

You stop before one of the tables. On it there were scattered many drawings. Flowers, animals or just a small details of a person’s face. You can’t help yourself from going through them, hands just grazing softly over them, to not destroy them. You were simply in awe at each one of them. Every single one of them had their own character, they were all so beautiful…But then as you moved out of the way more papers, you came across a one that immediately spoke to you.

It was a drawing of the Moon, light scratches on the paper indicating its light that mirrored on a river. On the left edge of the paper is a bridge, still unfinished and on it you could make out a small figure. You quickly realize who it was — you. He drew you at the night you two met…he drew the moment you kept repeating inside your head. You reminisce the peacefulness yet tension there was when your eyes met for the first time. How it felt to be seen for the first time.

A smile spread over your lips, simply because you found it quite endearing. “I presume you drew these.” You say, turning around, only finding him leaning closely to you on his main desk. However you do not know that he didn’t look away from you since the moment you step inside this room. He listened how your heartbeat slowed down to a pleasant thumping.

Hyunjin if he could, would blush under your praise, but even in his small bashfulness, he can’t look away from your beautiful smile. “Yes.” He answers, proudness prominent in his voice as he also looks around the room with you.

“They are all beautiful.” You breathe out, taking it in. Every painting in the house, in the corridor you passed through is probably his, you find it absolutely amazing. “You are very talented.” You do not know where the confidence in your voice came from, but you don’t even think twice about it, simply too distracted at the moment.

The vampire is also stunned by the sudden compliments send his way, a fizzy feeling warming up his insides. Your presence and that you choose to be with him meant so much, you can’t even imagine. Lights of the few candles he lightened up, made your dress shine, skin looking so soft to touch. He wish to paint you like this — he wishes to paint you at any given moment. You are just too mesmerizing to not be painted. His eyes travel to your bare neck, listening to your pulse that jumps dangerously too loudly to his ears at the moment. He looks away from your neck, like the sight of it burned him, throat dry, thirsty. Those thoughts were forgotten for a moments when he hears you shuffling through paper, hand just grazing at a one particular drawing.

Your fingers brush against it, seeing just a glimpse of someone’s strained neck, before it is grabbed from you. You gasp at Hyunjin’s sudden appearance, his moves so quick and shift that you are left slightly spooked. His speed made some of the drawings on the table fly away, but he payed no mind to them as the drawing you were looking at is pushed tightly to his chest. “Thank you for your compliments, painting has always been a passion of mine…” He says, smiling sheepishly, a short laugh following from his lips. You just nod your head at his weird behavior, watching him lean over the table to your side, opening a book to just put the drawing inside of it. He snaps the book shut, looking up at you as he slowly straightens his back.

Shiver runs down your spine, tickling the back of your neck as your wide eyes stare up into his. He was so close, so so close. If you would even take a breath in, your chest would graze over his. Your eyes fall onto his neck, watching his Adam’s apple jump, because if you would tilt your chin up, his chin would touch your head. His hand still lingering on the closed book, made its way back through his drawings to his side, but you could see it from the corner of your eye stopping next to yours. You can’t believe you are so taken back just from this. You already touch each other like this, but it still was only, because under a certain situation. Never just to feel each other…He could sense the air around you shifting, how your shoulders tense up, he by that figured you are becoming uncomfortable, so he steps away from you. He had to so say that these tensions between you two are slowly killing inside.

He clasps his hands behind his back, walking back to his main desk, turning to you, now a decent distance between you two. “I see you are learning to enjoy my gifts.” Hyunjin remarks, eyes traveling down the length of your body. Your response is small laugh, because you are still finding your ground, back leaning on the table. You stay away from him to not go absolutely insane, but his next words almost make you. “You look beautiful.”

Such simple words, but to you they meant a lot. You did struggle with your self image, because you always thought that the way you look was the leading cause of your loneliness. So that word made you simply speechless, because he is the literal definition of it. The way he voiced out those words…made you for once really feel like it. “Thank you…it is a beautiful dress.” You say, looking down at your body. The pink and yellow fabric shifts with any small movement of yours, looking back at him, only for your eyes to fall onto his desk.

A silent gasp leaves you at the sight of your favorite flowers. You love any flower, because they all have their own uniqueness, but a traditional rose held your heart. He follows your gaze immediately, noting the way your eyes light up at the sight of the bouquet. “You like roses?” It came out more as a statement, because it was his favorite flower also.

You nod, smiling at how his features softened. “I love roses, but I must say, I prefer white over red.” A different kind of smile is send your way, his fingers taping at the table, like deep in thought by this almost useless information.

You just realize how quiet it is, it almost felt awkward between you two with all these stops before moving on with the conversation, but you prefer it this way. You finally had time to think, before answering, but you know yourself too well — it won’t stop you from saying whatever. You stay at your spot, both hands balancing your body while you watch him walk to an another, smaller table.

His back turns to you, preventing you to fully see what he is doing, but then you get a glimpse of a bottle, the glass winking at you. The context still unknown to you, till he pours it into his glass. The thick liquid, could be recognized even from far away, but you still ask just to be sure. “Is that blood?” The word rolls out of your tongue in displeasure and he just gives you a small look. His fingers played around the rim of his glass, rolling the liquid around like it was just a glass of wine. You didn’t need any conformation from him as he tips the glass to his lips. “Did you…?” You wonder, watching him take another, longer sip.

He knows what you are asking and he immediately shakes his head. Hyunjin could feel your small expression of what seemed like betrayal and disgust. He himself feels disgusted by the idea of betraying you and not keeping his promise, it hurts him a little that you would even think that. “No, I haven’t touched anyone…if that’s what you are asking.” Smacking his lips, his tongue licks at a small drop rolling down the corner of his mouth. He sees the immediate relief, how your grip on the table loosens. He then let his eyes linger on your neck again. So pretty, unmarked, you really shouldn’t tease him like that with your soft looking skin. “—if you are not offering yourself…”

Heat raises to your cheeks and you just know that he could see the blood traveling to your face under your skin. His comment wasn’t meant to be said like that, it should’ve been a small joke perhaps. Though when he said those words himself, he couldn’t fight his sultry tone. Your hand momentarily raised to your neck, his eyes following the movement. You don’t know if you should be even breathing as every move of yours made him so hopeful. You know about his desire to drink from you, maybe it is only his nature, but you could tell it meant something more. Your hand falls to your side again, deciding to let his comment be forgotten, but it still lingers a little as you try to distract yourself with looking at a painting behind his head.

The colors on it are dark, way too dark to make out the scenery. With only the few lit candles in the room, you could however make out a small house, a cottage, its windows painted dimmed orange color. In the background is something you couldn’t quite make out, but it did help your heart to stop beating so fast. Though you think again about yesterday when from the corner of your eye, you see him finish his glass. The woman who he drank off…

“I saw human and even vampire servants…” You say, instead of just saying what you wanted to say, but this small statement of yours still needed to be explained.

A smirk falls over his face, too quick for you to catch, the darkness also not being really helpful to you. You just hope that he couldn’t feel the jealousy radiating from you as you thought of the woman who he had bitten. “We only hired humans to look after you when we cannot…feeding from them is quite optional.” No, he did know your intentions, he knows why you asked him that. Embarrassment is understandable from your side, but he didn’t see it as he realized that even with more people in the house, he couldn’t protect you.

“So you compel them to stay and feed from them?” You mumble, again asking a very obvious question. He only gives you a small nod in return, but you only start to feel more bad for them. They just manipulate normal people for their pleasure. They stole someone’s freedom…”So you really keep innocent people here under your spell, feeding from them till they one day bore you?” Your words almost spit out of you.

He almost feels like a child caught doing something, he shouldn’t. You are right in one way, but you still don’t know that the humans here really don’t mind being here. They feed from them, yes, but they still have some heart to provide them with anything they want. They are not as cold hearted as you think, you should be thankful that you are not a possession of some other vampire clan. “They let us themselves, trust me the blood tastes better when the person is not opposed to it. They give us their blood and help and we give them anything they want in return…besides it’s not that often. We enjoy more going out — playing with our food.”

You frown at that not quite getting what he is saying, but the small amused raise of his eyebrow isn’t missed. “How so?” You ask, after learning that these people here are safe, not really held captive if you can even say that, makes you feel at ease.

Hyunjin can’t fight the small amusement, because you always don’t see the obvious, however you really do have a particular eye for details. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, the darkness making his eyes shine like eyes of a predator which he is. “Someone likes the chase, the thrill of seeing someone scared and completely hopeless, but more so it’s the immense pleasure of seducing someone.”

Your lips form into thin line, mainly because that the thought of him doing that to someone is making your skin crawl — you don’t want to admit it however. His voice was laced with honey, but you quickly learn that this is the way he speaks. Does he speak to his victims like this? Lurning them into his arms? If you would look at it from far away, it made you sick that vampires just use human for their pleasure only, they find thrill in their weakness. “And then what? Kill them?” The frown on your face deepened, looking at him.

He cocks his head slightly, like thinking, but both of you knew that he already had an answer ready for you. Hyunjin could see right through you, knowing exactly what you are going to ask by just a look into your eyes. “Sometimes yes…” He says in honesty. “But we prefer not to — I look at humans as equals as much as it is amusing with our nature. I was a human once too, I just simply take what I need and then make them forget.”

Forget…simple word, but you did not do that when he asked you to. After his statement you feel yourself relaxing slightly. Maybe you are looking too much into things way too quickly. You judged too hard, only being proven otherwise by him after. You have to stop seeing him like the creature that he is and see him as a person who once had dreams, like you. He was once just like you, he knows how he would react in your position — maybe he would be even more dramatic, overreacting and overthinking more than you do.

When you met him, you found yourself in a completely different world. The world of supernatural beings that you only saw on a screen. You did wonder if vampires were the only ones, because when you learn something new, you always need to know more. “Are there any other supernatural beings?” You wondered out loud. There is so much you want to ask that you forget about this most important one of them all.

“Yes.” Your breath comes out jagged, small excitement rising in your chest as well as fear. “They are werewolves and witches who created us.” You can’t believe that humans do not know of their existence other than you now, were humans this ignorant?

Your eyebrows knitted together at the last sentence and in curiosity you had to take a small step closer to him. “Why?”

He knew that you would ask, but it is important that you know. It would help him get closer to you, get you to trust him. He doesn’t see it as him being manipulative to get you close enough for him to finally feel a part of you, but he can’t help, but feel needy to answer as you did come closer to him. Though it hurts a little for him to go back to his past. “There are many types of witches, good and evil, they all take their power from the Earth.” He sighs a little, head hanging low, eyes full of emotions. “Mother Nature turned their back on them when half of their clan was murdered by werewolves. They seeked revenge so they created us, making us and werewolves the perfect rivals for each other.”

You are in disbelief that this is how vampires were created, but it somehow made a prefect sense. They were created from revenge. “Werewolves existed before you?” You asked him, walking closer to him, away from the table till only the tips of your fingers touched the wood.

The small excitement is obvious to him, even if you try to hide it. His future was painful, talking about it is painful, but as he told you more, he felt better somehow. You made him realize that is not so important as the present — future with you. “Yes…there’s actually one in this house right now, but he prefers not to speak of it.” Hyunjin whispers to you as you lean ever so slightly closer to him, him looking up to the ceiling like he could just tell that the person is listening to the conversation.

You don’t hide your shock at that. A vampire and a werewolf? Your childish excitement is interrupted by a sudden feeling of fear of the unknown. It felt like the first time he told you about their own species, your head started to hurt a little from this much information. “Who?” You ask him, the word also coming out as a whisper. It was so silly to even try to be quiet, but he found it cute when you imitated his tone of voice.

“Chan.” Your eyebrows jump for a second to your hair line, not even realizing you were standing right at the edge of the table, just a few steps away from him. “He was a werewolf before he was turned. He was the first one to be turned by the originals, so that’s why he became our leader.” The one word came out from his mouth with a weird undertone, but you don’t comment on it. “Werewolves are going extinct and so are witches, because of our hunger for blood and power.”

You gave him a look of understanding, but you know that he still was holding back, not telling you the whole truth. Your mind goes back to the man upstairs, the one who held the most authority and confidence in his steps. He seemed to be the type to somehow not be moved by anything, but hearing this about him, makes you realize that he is more than just their leader. “So he is a hybrid?”

It was a silly question perhaps, watching him immediately shake his head. “No, his werewolf side died that day with him.” You suddenly feel bad for him, it must have been so painful for him, either of them, but turning into your own sworn enemy must be painful to even imagine. “However being an Alfa made some of his followers still believe he was, even after turning, not their enemy.” You nodded, him seeing the small downside turn of your pink lips.

It was quiet for a moment after that. You are thankful a little, because you needed to sort out your thoughts. Some things were still unanswered. Though the main thing that kept your mind occupied were the first ever vampires, the ones who turned them. You don’t want to ask if they all knew each other, but something told you that they did. Your heart burns at the fact he was killed by someone close to him, turning into the creature of the night. You can see how much it hurts him to reminisce his last moments as a human. It must have been so scary for him…

Your fingers played on the table, body swaying back and forth as you change your weight on your feet. You then make your way closer, justifying yourself that it was only because you wanted to take a closer look at his drawings. Hyunjin held is breath as you passed by him, simply to not intake your scent. He watches your fingers nibble carefully on the paper, caressing it so softly he wishes it would be his skin instead. A candle on the table illuminates your most prominent features, loose hair from your up-do falling into your eyes. He can’t believe he is doing that — his eyes fall quickly to the empty glass next to him, swallowing the saliva forming in his mouth, though throat even drier than before.

“How many are there?” You ask him from the other side of the table, at his silence looking up at him. Only your look makes him snap back into reality, gazing at you with half lidded eyes, but you ignore his weird behavior. “The originals…” You continue.

“Seven.” He says, blinking at your pursed lips, like in thought, already answering you further before you could even form the next question. “Seven of us were turned by the originals…”

“But who is-“ He hates that you are really asking him that. He should’ve known better, your curiosity is immense.

Hyunjin is not the one to make your question die down hallway, your voice became little, because as you gaze at him, it became clear to you. “Felix…. I turned him.” The silence between you is heavy as you watch him slowly lose the mask of strength. Your heart burns for him, because you feel for him. He lets you see him vulnerable and part of you is feeling bad that you had to remind him of the darkest parts of his past. “I-I couldn’t control my hunger and almost killed him…I couldn’t bare the thought of him being gone, so I gave him another life…I was so selfish—“

His breath is heavy, fighting back the tears at the memory when he almost lost his dear friend, only to make his fate even worse than death. He knew it was selfish of him, he felt like one of them, because they showed him what it is at need to become a vampire. His blond friend forgive him way too quickly, he didn’t hate him for a split second for what he did. He should’ve. Hyunjin is reminded with what he did by every look at him, he could never forget how his friend’s droopy eyes looked into his. How they lose light while he slowly realized what he had done. He couldn’t let the person he loved die by his hand, so he gave him another life instead…He couldn’t watch the way your beautiful eyes dimmed from his state, you should not feel like this. He doesn’t deserve your tears.

You haven’t seen him show emotions that much, but when he did, it was overwhelming. Every emotion he let out strikes you in the chest and now you can’t, but feel sorrow, sad from the way he seems to be hating himself for a thing like this. He was scared, confused, he is not responsible for doing those bad things, but you do understand him. You can’t even breathe from the thought of something like this happening to Mia and You, but the way out of it is not beating yourself like this. You didn’t know what came over you, it was way too bold. You should’ve known better and let him calm himself down, but how could you keep yourself from him when he looks like this?

You made your way around the table, hand falling onto his shoulder in comfort. He jumps at your touch, eyes wide, shocked by your presence. He is not alone…”I am so sorry” You say, your apology also meant for your bold move. You didn’t know what else to say to him, because that is truly how you felt about him. Your hand falls from his shoulder while he looks at you with a completely different look in his eyes that made you want to back away. You translated it as a plead for you to step back, but as you do that, his hands grip your upper arms. Your lips parted into a silent gasp at the painful grip, eyes wide in small shock when you are turned around to be only pressed into the table.

Your breath becomes heavy, matching his as you try to wiggle out of his painful grip, but he doesn’t even want to look at you. His head hung low, your back digging into the table in the hopes of taking a deeper breath, more than just a few shallow gasps. He pressed himself into you and the way he breathed so deeply, makes you scared of what he might do. You shouldn’t have touched him, you think you angered him by taking a side with his blond friend, but you still stand by the fact he shouldn’t feel responsible for what he did.

The silence could eat you alive, your gasps of air and his heavy breaths were the only thing filling up the room. You could feel his chest rise, his dark blue shirt rubbing at your skin, the tips of his fingers dangerously digging into your exposed skin. You ignore the pain, scared to even look away from him. You don’t however feel as scared as you should be, you quickly learn. You are scared, only because you don’t know what made him like this. You wiggle a little in his grasp, thighs bumping into each other and by your restraint, you hit the painful spot on your leg. A small hiss leaves you and you almost jump when he finally looks at you.

Your wide eyes meet his. You think you will never get enough of the color and the red outline of his iris. Your noise of pain made his grip loosen around your arms and you could feel your skin bruising under his fingers. You watch his face as it falls into a frown, looking at you in small concern. “Does it hurt?”

You do not know what to say, because you think he is not really referring to his painful grip on your body. “What?” Comes out of your mouth, because his expression is making you confused. You hold your breath, sighing through your nose in relief when his left hand releases you, but you only become more frozen from what he does next. His left hand travels down the length of your arm, before stopping at your skirt and you are left speechless when he starts to lift up the fabric.

You stood there in shock, heart jumping maybe not so much from fear anymore as he bunched up your skirt, just to stop at your waist. It draped over you enough to not reveal anything too scandalous, but you do want to instinctively run from him. Just barely his fingers touch you and you are already feeling like you are on the edge, before you would simply crumble at his feet. You close your eyes, not being able to handle his eyes on your skin that no one has ever seen, but when you feel his fingers on the same spot your eyes fly open.

As you look down, you realize what he meant. His long fingers graze over the bruise on the inside of your thigh. His touch makes you feel hot, head fuzzy, but he didn’t mirror your expression. Hyunjin felt sick to his stomach at the purple color of your skin, where his hand gripped you in anger. Even if he didn’t linger his hand there for too long, it was long enough for it to bruise. “Does it hurt?” He asks you again.

His cold skin tickles you, watching his fingers dance across the sensitive skin. “A little…” You whisper the truth. He doesn’t show his reaction nor he says anything to your answer, the hand gripping your skirt, keeping it up, makes the material of his trousers brush over you. You don’t really understand his reaction. Yes, he did hurt you, but you do forgive him, because they are way more important things than something like this. You know that he didn’t mean it that is important. Now you just have to keep his mind out of it, because you can’t let him feel bad anymore. “Do you have any idea why I cannot be compelled by you?” You question him, trying to ease the tension.

He answers you, though not clearly, like he just didn’t simply want to be rude. It is a good question you are asking, but it is a little too much for him to think about as there is only a one thing on his mind right now. “Maybe…it is because you…” He speaks up, before looking up at you with desperation. “What are you doing to me?”

Air gets stuck in your throat at the look he gives you, feeling the tension around you suffocating you or was it just his body pressing into yours? “I don’t understand.” You rasp out, shaking your head, trying to look away from him, but his expression won’t let you.

“Just by your touch, only by a look, I become your slave…and your smell—“ You gasp, freezing when he leans his head closer to your neck, moving the loose hair away from it with a quick flick of his wrist. You couldn’t breath, short gasps ringing in the air as he leans closer to your pulse, nose ticking the soft skin. “I had to stop feeding from someone, because any time I would, I would only think of you instead—“

You gasp softly, you don’t even know if you are still frightened or something less — something more raw. You could feel each word, lips bumping into your skin. You feel adrenaline piled up inside your chest, heart beating so fast that you think you are going to pass out. The graze of his soft lips, the feel of your skin, he can’t help the animalistic growl realising from the depths of his chest. The noise makes you gasp again, almost whimper as it vibrates over your skin, awaking goosebumps all over your body. It was so erotic, you have never been in this situation before, only in your dreams, but this was real. You could feel him against you, taking in the smell of your sweat forming on your hair line and also what seem like an arousal. You did try to stop it, but this situation made you thirst for more, tummy rumbling in a well known feeling. You couldn’t help it, there was a beautiful man before you, simply breathing from your scent alone and you can’t hate yourself for enjoying it.

“Hyunjin.” You whisper, hands grabbing his shirt, scrunching the fabric on his chest. Your fingers touch his skin briefly, shaking, but deciding to scrunch up the silky material in your hands instead. To pull him closer or away? You don’t know.

At your move he pulls himself away from the crook of your shoulder and when he looks at you, you can’t help, but whimper at the state of him. You have only seen him like this from far away, too far from you to fully look at those veins around his crimson eyes. Your hand just had to graze over one, the one right under his eye. You could feel it, but you know there is actually nothing pumping the blood inside his body. You don’t feel scared, even after your eyes fell onto his fangs, sharp tips peaking out from his flushed lips.

Hyunjin watched you in awe as you don’t seem to be frightened by his appearance. He always thought this side of him was never appealing to look at, but you — you looked him like you have never seen something so beautiful as his true form. Your thumb caressed the skin under his eye, like scared you would hurt his delicate features. He hates himself for needing to pull away from you, but the sight of your pulse was becoming really hard for him. He already let you see him like this, now he could just lean in and take a bite…maybe you would even like it. However he felt this was already too much, more than enough for today, so he pulled away from you.

Your hand falls back to your side, his leaving sensation that felt little too delicious. You watch him turn away from you, making you realize your dress was still at your waist. You quickly pulled down your skirt, feeling your ears burning, trying to calm down from the whole situation. “Are you…are you alright?” You ask him, breathing still heavy as his, but when he looks back at you there is no sign of his true nature.

“Yes, I apologize for my behavior…” Hyunjin breathed out, hand running through his already messy hair.

You want to shake your head at yourself, because you only feel disappointment by his actions. He looked like nothing happened, you don’t know if he is only acting like this to safe you from the embarrassment which you are now feeling or just doesn’t want to talk about the fact that he just let you willingly see him like that. Though you have to address the big issue in this room. “You are hungry.” You stated and he looks at you like you just grew a second head — the answer is obvious.

That is the thing he doesn’t want to talk about. “Please don’t–“ He says, shaking his head. “Don’t want to even think about it…”

You sigh at his tone, the need for warm blood is shining in his eyes. “You can feed from someone. Yesterday I didn’t mean it like that and would definitely be against it, if I truly knew how difficult it would be for you…” He let’s you talk, staring at you as you take a small step closer to him. “So please feed, before either of us do something stupid.”

“But you are against it…in what way I must now.” He frowns, because he could tell even know, how you somehow despised the idea and also he always only thought of you, but it would really help him get back on his track.

“I just–“ You sigh again, nervously biting at your lip. “…biting someone in the neck isn’t it for you…”

“Arousing?” He finishes for you, raising his eyebrow. “No….not when it’s not you.”

You cough lightly, choking on your own spit. He still wears a straight face, even as your reaction was a little dramatic. Your head is starting to spin from him, because how he could he just do and say a thing like that? “S-so you will feed, yes?” You say hopefully, clasping your slightly shaking hands before you.

He sighs in small displeasure, because he knows that even if he will feed again, it won’t tame his hunger. “Yes, maybe I should now seeing that I already finished my last drop.” He says, eyes momentarily going back to the red stained glass.

He doesn’t want you to leave him right now, but he will take the risk to preserve both of yours sanities. You also don’t want to part ways so soon, but you have a lot of things that need to be sort out and those were mostly your emotions. Maybe, you are a little relieved as you leave him in his workroom, because you know that you will find each other again…

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taglist (still open);

@babrieeee @akaligogrrr @hyuninslutbbgirl @satosugu4l @rockyhedgehog @lovemeorleavemetonight @dandelions-143 @skzfelixlove @syedazarintasnim @rylea08 @ahluvisyou @oddracha @what-am-i-doing-here2503 @annairacheyenne @dabiscrustyfeet @blankdyean @chartrucewhore @shuporanporang @palindrome969

i tried to get anyone but for some of you it just doesn’t work for some reason, it keeps telling me that your block doesn’t exist, I honestly don’t know what I’m doing wrong, I’m sorry :(

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achillesuwu · 4 months

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What is very interesting with dragonlord [especially if EVERY son get the title and not just the eldest] : the more they are the less powerful they individually are.

Like, it's kinda hard to use dragon as powerful weapon in war if dragonlords will just turning them back to each other like an hot potato.

Which must have made a very interesting dynamic in term of Noble house rankings? Like, dragon lord householdS must have been higher than king on a power scale (maybe they were living in remote communal castles groupe. Kinda living outside of the non-magical world so they were not really counted as threatening by the kingdom living in their territory) BUT at the same time one single dragon lord must not have been very high on the power scale especially if there was even 1 single dragon lord against them AND even dragon lord household individually must not have been high either. They are powerful against common enemies and in their territory but not against each other (if they even wanted to go against their kin).

They can't even be used to move things fast since they don't even use dragon to fly (I 100% headcanon that dragonlords used to have a very specific kind of mount that could keep up with a dragon flying speed and it baffled everyone else lol)

Which mean that Uther plan of killing them all was a very very VERY risky gambling. He must have killed them all in one go because the less they are the more fucked up he was. Like Balinor must have kept him awake at night.

Also RIP to Arthur Pendragon in au where he makes magic legal once more and give back their titles and land to magic users because it must be a nightmare to have to learn all of this new complex ranking of noble houses ( Arthur : so Merlin's household is on the same rank as me????

Gaius : you could say that.

Arthur, continuing to read : but he is also lower in rank than me even as one of the... Elder Dragonlords of his household?

Gaius : well. Usually yes but in this case no since he is the last surviving member of his household?

Arthur : so he has the same rank as me???

Gaius : it depends if there are any Dragonlords for across the sea in the rooms and if his title of court mage is—

*two weeks after arthur finally learned all of that shit*

Arthur *slam the door open* : WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME HE WAS LIKE A FREAKING DEITY AND I DIDN'T HAVE TO LEARN ANY OF THIS?!??

#arthur pendragon #merthur #merlin #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #bbc merlin #bbc gaius #merlin meta

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nobody-nexus · 4 months

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Obsession AU: UPDATED

I promise I didn't forget about this AU- In fact I've been updating it behind the scenes ever since episode 2 released! And now, with proper reference sheets, you now have a better idea of what they look like, and who they are! Alongside the new members!

(5 Facts About Pomni)

-She will never feed human meat to any person. It is THEIR hunt, and therefore if she eats it, it's ALL THEIRS. She'd never give it to others for that very reason

-Their hands are heavily damaged, having MANY scars. Due to this, she will wear as much hand covering as possible, refusing to give any more details on their appearance due to her record

-As if their stalker like obsession with Amanda isn't enough of an issue, she also has a mannequin in their home that she practices dancing with to old songs they like

-She has Hematolagnia- AKA a blood fetish. YES, she has issues if that wasn't already clear enough

-The scars that are on their body are from self-defense attempts from three different victims

(5 Facts About Amanda)

-Her damaged eye is from an incident where a kid hit her with a meat cleaver. Although she thankfully didn't lose her eye, she's 1/3rd blind and legally isn't allowed to drive because of it

-She knows how to cook! Although she does more baking than cooking, she loves to collect cookbooks and learn new recipes of various kinds! Especially ones from outside the United States

-She has scented candles in her home, and her home never smells like the same thing twice

-While she was away from her hometown, the only one that she kept in contact with was her brother, Jackson via text

-Her vitiligo started to pop up when she was 19

(5 Facts About Jackson)

-He is Zoey's roommate

-Jackson was an accidental child unlike his older sister

-He plays violent video games of all kinds. He loves being able to cause blood, death, and chaos without having to go to jail for it

-He likes sour candy a bit too much. Like it's a borderline issue with how much he's willing to pay just for sour candy and the feeling of it numbing his mouth

-Has a habit of stealing and shoplifting, being a bit TOO good at the action. He's gotten in trouble a few times before, but nowadays no one really seems to notice or care

(5 Facts About Grace)

-Grace was born an albino, having the palest skin out of most people in the town along with red eyes and white hair. It's unknown if her being albino was why she was so sickly as a child

-She loves to draw and will constantly have drawing/writing tools with her alongside notebooks or loose paper

-She's in the middle of quite the complicated situation between Amanda and Pomni

-Her most eaten food is soup, stew, and ramen

-She sees Ceaser as a father figure, being the most to visit him and keep him company ever since Quinn went missing. She'll occasionally even sing for him to make him feel better

(5 Facts About Zoey)

-They're very talented on the drums and are willing to be a temporary drummer for a price

-Zoey has a bit of an anger problem, quick to snap and easy to piss off given the topic of discussion. However, they are going to anger management classes to help with it

-Strangling is a common attack it does

-They decorate their prosthetic leg commonly

-VERY much smokes weed and makes edibles. Once tricked Amanda into eating some- and it likes the memory

(5 Facts About Kinger)

-He has a bit of a staring problem, however no one knows why

-He refuses to touch knives of any kind. This was a more recent thing about him, so most people just help him cut things in case he needs any help with it

-Still loves insects, and you can get him to ramble about bugs depending on his mood. He can't help but love em

-He has a nurse help him in his home, however it's not uncommon for Grace, Amanda, or even some of the new outbackers to come back and help him

-Has a daughter, but she moved out of state years ago. They talk occasionally

(5 Facts About Caine)

-He wears a top hat to not only stick to his brand, but also because he's kind of compensating for his height

-He has a small limp to his walk, thus why he constantly has a cane

-Caine's pet is a white pug named Bubble

-Pomni is his favorite customer! He constantly attempts small talk whenever she buys from him because he's always so curious as to why his pigs love her so much

-Although it's undiagnosed, he very much has ADHD and is on the spectrum to some degree

(5 Facts About Marina)

-She was a detective before she even moved into town, however her skills were finally noticed more so thanks to moving there

-She straightens out her hair

-Marina HAS to work in silence or she'll 100% get distracted. Caine's not allowed in her office for that very reason (but he knows)

-She is usually the one to come home late at night and snuggle in with her partner at like 2 in the morning

-Her favorite activity to do is stargazing, finding the night sky to be absolutly beautiful

(5 Facts About Summer)

-She is LOUD. You can and WILL know when she's talking and what she's talking about

-Constantly will ask her sister Marina about Caine. She is VERY wary of him even if Marina keeps telling her to stop

-Never share secrets with her because she IS a gossip girl. She adores to overshare about others and spread rumors just because she finds it fun

-Summer's seen to be a lot better around kids then people closer to her age. Thus why she's a teacher

-Can NOT let go of grudges no matter what

(5 Facts About Gabriela)

-She was the one who came up with the idea of the stripper outfits for her club. It somehow works

-She calls herself the 'Gloink Queen' as a bit of a joke whenever she's on the floor

-Can, will, and HAS flirted with at least half of the adult residence in the town just for the fun of it

-Although she claims to be married, no one has ever met her husband before, and probably never will

-Gabriela is the reason Pomni sees adult based activities as more of a transaction than anything else

(5 Facts About Gareth)

-He has a picture of his mom in his wallet. His mom nicknamed him Gummi at some point, but it's not known why

-He seems bossy, but only around his friends OR when he's upset. He's a lot more chill when one on one

-He has a manual truck that he drives around, but no one is ever impressed by it

-The reason he's good with skinning and cutting up meat is because he helped his dad since his father was a hunter

-His favorite music is country music

(5 Facts About Max)

-He's the one who came up with the idea that him, Gareth, and Chad all wore hats. He somehow convinced them to do so

-He bickers with Jackston a lot because they're both working at the same diner

-Out of the three friends, he's the most likely to flirt with someone, but if they reject him he will respect the fuck out of that

-Constantly forgets how NOT flexible he is as a person, will and has gotten stuck in multiple locations

-Always calls things that almost killed him 'the reaper'. He has also almost died WAY too many times

(5 Facts About Chad)

-He has a super high metabolism, thus why he's so skinny

-Usually carried medication in his fanny pack alongside trail mix and breath mints for some reason

-He's trying SO hard to grow facial hair, but it never cooperates with him like ever

-Chad has a habit of slumping/crouching constantly, and he has back pain as a result

-Is the most likely out of the friend group to be VERY confidently incorrect

(5 Facts About Loo)

-She was born in Britain but moved to the United States for an easier start. Who know it'd lead to being the mayor of a town?

-She's been the mayor for about 5 years by the time Amanda moves back to the town

-She dyes her hair cause she doesn't like the grays that have started to pop up

-She's painfully oblivious to how unhinged the town can be sometimes

-Loo hates being called Penelope unless it's by close friends or family

(5 Facts About Ivy)

-Although she DOES shower, just speaking to them makes you think it doesn't actually shower

-She never thinks before they speak, leading in incredibly horrid things leaving its mouth in common conversation

-Ivy is the only one who actually knows Pomni is a killer, however she finds it very attractive (this is NOT a good thing)

-Their diet consists of purely junk food and as a result it has basically a beer belly

-She has a dark/deep web fanbase, and they simply refer to itself as 'The Influencer' on the web

================================================

If you have any questions, feel free to ask me!

If you want to make your own OC for this AU, here's the blank sheet for it!

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novaursa · 2 months

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- Note: So, I'll give this a go here. Those who followed my work on AO3 will notice some changes, but the gist is the same. Also, please be kind. If you don't like it, just scroll over it. I post stuff for people to enjoy them and escape the burdens of their lives with me for a while. There is no grand conspiracy here. Just read and relax. Also, this is an AU fanfic and my own personal toxic blend of the show and the book(s).

- Title: zōbrie ānogar

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Romance: (Aegon II/OFC)

- Warning: All flags are up for this work. Aegon is also a warning on his own.

- Summary: It was written by Archmaester Gyldayn that on the day Princess Vaella Targaryen was born she was supposed to die. Until she fed upon her twin, Baelon. And when she turned one and five, she sought her end in the lair of Cannibal, in Dragonmont. But instead of feasting upon her, the dragon wept with her. And Archmaester had written a lengthy thesis on how wild dragon recognized a kindred soul in the Princess, as they both dined on their kin.

- Word count: 9 000+

- Parts: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Final

Part 1

The air was thick with anticipation and the clang of swords as the tournament raged on in the fields outside King's Landing. Knights clashed in the lists, banners fluttered, and the crowd roared, their cheers echoing through the castle walls. Yet inside the royal chambers, the atmosphere was tense and fraught with fear.

Queen Aemma Arryn was in labor, her cries of pain mingling with the distant sounds of celebration. King Viserys I Targaryen paced the length of the chamber, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, worry etched deeply into his face. This was the moment he had long awaited, the birth of his male heir. But the labor was not progressing as it should.

Maester Mellos hovered nearby, his brow furrowed as he consulted with the midwives. "The babe is in breech, Your Grace," he said, his voice grave. "We cannot turn it. If we do not act soon, we will lose them both."

Viserys halted, his heart pounding. "What can be done?" he demanded, though he feared the answer.

"We can attempt to save the child," Mellos replied, his tone heavy with the weight of the decision. "But it will mean sacrificing the queen."

The king's breath caught in his throat. He looked at Aemma, her face pale and slick with sweat, her eyes filled with agony and desperation. She had given him so much, had borne the burden of his ambitions and dreams. And now, he was faced with a choice that would haunt him forever.

"Aemma," he whispered, kneeling beside her and taking her hand. "My love, they say... they say they can save the babe."

Aemma's eyes met his, wide with fear and pain. "Do what you must," she gasped. "Save our child, Viserys. Promise me."

Viserys felt his heart shatter, but he nodded, pressing a kiss to her trembling hand. "I promise."

The maester and midwives moved quickly, their faces set with grim determination. Viserys stood back, his hands shaking, as they prepared for the terrible task. He could hear the clamor of the tournament outside, a cruel reminder of the celebration that had turned into a nightmare.

The room was filled with the sounds of Aemma's cries and the maester's steady instructions. Viserys felt his world narrowing to this moment, every second stretching into an eternity. And then, a piercing wail broke through the tension.

"It's a boy," one of the midwives exclaimed, holding up the tiny, wriggling form. The babe's cry was strong, a sign of life and promise.

Viserys felt a brief surge of relief, but it was short-lived. "Wait," the maester said, his eyes widening in surprise. "There is another."

The midwives worked quickly, and soon another child was brought into the world, a girl this time, smaller and silent. The room fell into a hushed silence as they examined her, worry etched on their faces.

"She is not crying," one of the midwives whispered, her voice trembling.

Viserys stepped forward, his heart aching. "Vaella," he said softly, naming her after an ancient Targaryen ancestor. "My daughter, Vaella."

The maester nodded, though his expression remained grave. "She lives, but she is weak."

The twins were placed side by side, Baelon strong and crying, while Vaella lay silent and still. Viserys looked down at them, his heart torn between joy and sorrow. He reached out to touch Vaella's tiny hand, and in that moment, her eyes fluttered open, indigo and bright, meeting his with a quiet intensity.

"She will be strong," he murmured, a fierce determination filling him. "She will live."

The room was filled with the mingled sounds of the babes and the distant roar of the tournament, a poignant reminder of the life and death that intertwined in the halls of power. Viserys knew that this day would be remembered, not just for the birth of his heirs, but for the choices and sacrifices that had marked its passing.

...

A few hours later, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen arrived at the nursery, her heart heavy with grief for her mother. She had loved Aemma deeply and the pain of her loss cut through her like a blade. The celebrations outside had turned into whispers of tragedy, and the joy of new life was mingled with the sorrow of death.

Rhaenyra’s steps were slow and measured as she walked through the halls, her mind reeling from the news. She understood, intellectually, why her father had made the choice he did, but it did little to soothe the anger and resentment boiling within her. She had wanted a brother, yes, but not at the cost of her mother’s life. And now, not only had she lost her mother, but her father had chosen a name for her sister without consulting her. She had wanted her sister to be named Visenya, after their legendary ancestor.

As she entered the nursery, she found the room softly lit and quiet, save for the occasional murmur of the maids tending to the infants. Rhaenyra’s gaze fell first upon her brother, Baelon, lying peacefully in his cradle, a small dragon egg nestled beside him, warm and glowing with promise.

"He's so small," she whispered to herself, reaching out to touch Baelon's tiny hand. His fingers curled around hers instinctively, and she felt a pang of tenderness mixed with her sorrow.

Then, she turned her attention to the cradle beside her brother's. Her newborn sister, Vaella, lay there, wide awake and silent. Vaella was pale, almost translucent, with an ethereal quality that unsettled Rhaenyra. Unlike Baelon, there was no dragon egg to keep her warm, yet the babe seemed content, her indigo eyes staring up at Rhaenyra with a calm intensity.

Rhaenyra knelt beside the cradle, her heart aching. "Hello, Vaella," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I'm your sister, Rhaenyra."

"Hello, little sister," Rhaenyra said softly, reaching out to gently stroke Vaella’s cheek. The baby did not react, her gaze unblinking. "Father named you Vaella, but I would have called you Visenya. A name worthy of a queen."

Vaella’s tiny hand moved slightly, as if reaching out, and Rhaenyra took it gently in her own. She marveled at how small and delicate Vaella was, a stark contrast to the strong and robust Baelon.

"She doesn't cry," one of the maids said quietly, approaching Rhaenyra. "She hasn't made a sound since she was born."

Rhaenyra nodded, her eyes never leaving Vaella's face. "She will be strong," she said, echoing her father's earlier words. "She has to be."

The maid hesitated before speaking again. "Your Grace, we were instructed to place a dragon egg in Vaella's cradle as well, but..."

"But what?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone sharp.

"We couldn't find one that seemed... right," the maid replied, her voice faltering. "The eggs are all warm, but none of them felt suitable for her."

Rhaenyra’s gaze hardened. "Then find one," she ordered. "She deserves the same chance as Baelon."

The maid bowed her head and quickly left the room. Rhaenyra turned back to Vaella, her expression softening. "I wanted you to be named Visenya. A name worthy of a queen," she whispered, brushing a finger gently across Vaella's cheek. "But Vaella is a strong name too. You will make it strong."

Vaella’s eyes remained fixed on her, unblinking and serene. Rhaenyra felt a strange sense of calm wash over her, as if the silent babe was imparting some of her tranquility.

She leaned closer, her voice a soft murmur. "I will protect you, Vaella. I will protect both of you. Mother's gone, but you have me. And I will not let anything happen to you."

Rhaenyra stayed there, watching over her siblings, her heart heavy with the weight of her promises and the sorrow of her loss. She knew that the days ahead would be fraught with challenges and dangers, but in that quiet moment, surrounded by the fragile beginnings of new life, she found a glimmer of hope and determination.

The nursery was a haven of calm amidst the storm, and as the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, Rhaenyra vowed that she would honor her mother's memory by standing strong for her family, no matter the cost.

...

The next day dawned with a hushed stillness that seemed to permeate the entire Red Keep. The jubilation of the previous day had been tempered by the tragedy of Queen Aemma's death, but the court still held a flicker of hope in the promise of the newborn twins. Servants moved quietly through the halls, attending to their duties with a solemn air.

In the nursery, the maids and servants who had tended to the twins throughout the night were greeted by a scene of unexpected and harrowing sorrow. The once lively Baelon, who had been sleeping peacefully beside his dragon egg, was now eerily still in his cradle. His tiny chest no longer rose and fell with breath, his eyes closed in eternal slumber.

The discovery sent a shockwave through the nursery. Gasps of horror and grief filled the room as the realization settled in. The King's heir, his long-awaited son, was dead. The dragon egg that had been placed beside him now seemed like a cruel mockery of the life that had been so abruptly extinguished.

"Fetch the Maester," one of the servants choked out, her hands trembling as she tried to comprehend the tragedy before her. "Quickly!"

Maester Mellos arrived swiftly, his face a mask of concern as he took in the scene. He approached Baelon's cradle with a heavy heart, gently placing his fingers against the babe's tiny neck, hoping against hope for a sign of life. There was none. He bowed his head, his heart sinking with the weight of the loss.

As Mellos turned to the cradle beside Baelon's, a sudden and piercing wail filled the air. It was a sound so unexpected and startling that it caused everyone in the room to freeze. Vaella, the silent and still babe, had come alive with a cry that seemed to resonate with a power far beyond her fragile form.

"By the Seven," Mellos muttered, his eyes wide with astonishment. He moved to Vaella's side, noting the newfound vitality in her eyes, the strength in her cries. She was more alive now than she had been since her birth.

The servants exchanged uneasy glances, their grief for Baelon now mingled with a sense of unease. Mellos looked down at the wailing Vaella, his mind racing. It was an old superstition, a whisper from the past: when one twin died, the other sometimes took their soul, their strength. It was said to be a bad omen, a dark portent.

Mellos kept his thoughts to himself, though the notion unsettled him deeply. "It is a tragedy," he said aloud, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "The Princess Vaella has found her voice, it seems, but the loss of Prince Baelon is a heavy blow to us all."

One of the servants, a young woman with tear-streaked cheeks, looked at Mellos with a mixture of fear and confusion. "What does it mean, Maester?" she asked. "Why now?"

Mellos sighed, shaking his head. "I do not know," he admitted. "But we must inform the King. This loss... it will cripple him."

The servants nodded solemnly, their hearts heavy with the task ahead. As they prepared to deliver the devastating news to King Viserys, Mellos turned back to Vaella. The babe had quieted, her cries giving way to a strange, serene silence. He couldn't shake the feeling that something profound had shifted in the balance of life and death within this room.

"I will note this in my journal," Mellos murmured to himself, making a mental note to document the strange events surrounding the twins. He would keep his suspicions to himself for now, but the memory of Vaella's piercing wail would haunt him for years to come.

As the maids and servants moved to carry out their somber duties, the weight of the tragedy settled over the Red Keep like a shroud. The joyous celebrations of new life had been overshadowed by death, and the realm would feel the ripples of this loss for years to come. King Viserys, now a father and a widower, would have to navigate the treacherous waters of grief and responsibility, his heart forever marked by the sorrow of this day.

...

The day of the funeral dawned cold and overcast, the sky heavy with clouds that mirrored the somber mood of the assembled mourners. All gathered before the grand pyre that had been erected outside the Red Keep, a stark testament to the loss of both Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon. The scent of incense and the crackling of torches filled the air, but a profound silence hung over the gathering, broken only by the distant sound of waves against the shore.

King Viserys stood closest to the pyre, his shoulders slumped and his eyes red-rimmed from sleepless nights of weeping. His grief was a palpable thing, weighing down the very air around him. He seemed almost a ghost of himself, hollowed out by the dual tragedies that had befallen him.

A little further down, Rhaenyra stood with her newborn sister Vaella cradled in her arms. She held the babe tightly, as if drawing strength from her tiny, warm presence. Vaella was silent, her indigo eyes wide and watchful, taking in the scene with an uncanny stillness.

Behind Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon Targaryen watched with a mixture of sorrow and concern. He stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Rhaenyra’s shoulder. "It's time," he said softly. "Your father needs you now."

Rhaenyra turned her tear-streaked face towards her uncle, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and resignation. "I will never be a son," she whispered, her voice trembling. "And neither will Vaella."

Daemon's expression softened, and he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "You are stronger than any son, Rhaenyra. And your father needs that strength now more than ever."

Taking a deep breath, Rhaenyra nodded. She stepped forward, feeling the weight of her duty pressing down upon her young shoulders. She could feel the eyes of the gathered nobles and courtiers upon her, their silent expectation adding to her burden. She glanced at her father, who seemed lost in his own world of sorrow, barely aware of his surroundings.

With tears streaming down her face, Rhaenyra looked up at Syrax, her beloved dragon, who waited patiently beside the pyre. The golden beast’s eyes glowed with a fierce intelligence, and she seemed to understand the gravity of the moment.

"Dracarys," Rhaenyra commanded, her voice breaking.

In an instant, Syrax unleashed a torrent of dragonfire. The flames roared to life, consuming the pyre in a brilliant blaze that lit up the overcast sky. The heat was intense, and the air filled with the acrid scent of burning wood and flesh. The mourners stepped back, shielding their faces from the searing heat, but Rhaenyra stood her ground, her eyes fixed on the flames.

The crackling of the fire was accompanied by the soft sobs and murmurs of those gathered. The loss of their queen and the young prince was a blow to the realm, and the grief of the people was a reflection of the profound sorrow felt by their king.

Rhaenyra looked down at Vaella, her tiny face illuminated by the firelight. "You are all I have left of her," she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her sister’s forehead. "I will protect you, always."

Vaella gazed up at her, silent and solemn, as if she understood the weight of her sister's words. Rhaenyra felt a fierce protectiveness surge within her. She might never be the son her father had wished for, but she would be strong for him, for her family, and for her realm.

As the pyre burned, Rhaenyra stood with her sister in her arms, a silent vow forming in her heart. She would honor her mother's memory, and she would ensure that Vaella grew up knowing the love and strength that had defined their mother. The flames roared higher, a testament to the fire that burned within the Targaryen bloodline, a fire that Rhaenyra vowed would never be extinguished.

...

Six months had passed since the tragic deaths of Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon, and King Viserys had made a decision that shocked the realm. He chose to marry Alicent Hightower, the daughter of his Hand, Otto Hightower. This alliance was seen by many as a strategic move to stabilize the kingdom, but it also stirred whispers and discontent among the nobles. In a further surprising move, Viserys named his daughter Rhaenyra as the heir to the Iron Throne, a decision that defied tradition and set tongues wagging throughout Westeros.

Another year passed, and Queen Alicent gave birth to a son, Aegon. The realm celebrated the birth of a male heir, but the decision to place him in the nursery with Vaella, who continued to grow normally and thrive, added an interesting dynamic to the royal family. Despite Rhaenyra's attempts to give her sister a dragon egg to hatch, Vaella showed no interest in any of them. After several unsuccessful tries, Rhaenyra stopped bringing the eggs, accepting that Vaella was different in her own way.

The connection between Aegon and Vaella was immediate and profound. Vaella's quiet presence seemed to calm the newborn prince, who basked in the comfort of his half-sister's company. This bond often agitated Rhaenyra, who felt a mixture of protectiveness and jealousy. She would frequently 'steal' Vaella away from the nursery, taking her for walks around the Red Keep or in the gardens, much to the dismay and complaints of the servants. Aegon would become fussy and cry until Vaella was returned to him, a fact that both frustrated and amused Rhaenyra.

One sunny afternoon, Rhaenyra and Vaella were walking through the lush gardens of the Red Keep. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided a serene backdrop. Vaella, now a curious toddler with pale blonde hair and indigo eyes, held tightly to Rhaenyra's hand, her steps wobbly but determined.

"Do you like the flowers, Vaella?" Rhaenyra asked, kneeling down to pick a bright red rose and handing it to her sister.

Vaella nodded, her eyes wide with wonder as she examined the flower. "Pretty," she murmured, her voice soft and clear.

Rhaenyra smiled, but her expression quickly turned somber. "You know, sometimes I wish things were different," she said, more to herself than to Vaella. "I wish Mother were here to see you grow. She would have loved you so much."

Vaella looked up at her sister, her indigo eyes filled with an understanding far beyond her years. "Mama," she said simply, reaching up to touch Rhaenyra's face.

Rhaenyra's heart ached with the weight of her sister's innocence and the loss they both shared. "Yes, Mama," she whispered, hugging Vaella tightly. "But you have me, and I will always be here for you."

As they continued their walk, they passed a group of servants who were nervously whispering among themselves. One of them, a young maid, approached Rhaenyra hesitantly. "Your Grace, Prince Aegon is very fussy. He won't stop crying without Princess Vaella."

Rhaenyra sighed, feeling the familiar pang of frustration. "He can wait a little longer," she replied curtly. "Vaella needs fresh air and sunshine."

The maid bowed her head, retreating with a worried glance. Rhaenyra led Vaella to a shaded bench under a sprawling oak tree, lifting her sister onto her lap. "You know, Vaella, sometimes I feel like I can't do anything right," she confessed, brushing a strand of hair from Vaella's face. "But when I'm with you, it feels like everything is okay."

Vaella looked up at her with a solemn expression. "Love Nyra," she said, wrapping her small arms around her sister's neck.

Rhaenyra felt tears prick her eyes, but she blinked them away, smiling through her sadness. "And I love you, my sweet Vaella," she whispered. "Always."

As they sat together in the peaceful garden, the bond between the sisters grew stronger, a beacon of light amidst the complexities of court life and the looming shadows of their past. The challenges ahead were many, but in each other's company, they found solace and strength to face whatever the future held.

...

Two years had passed, and Vaella continued to grow normally, blossoming into a lively child. She spent her days in the company of her half-brother Aegon, who refused to be parted from her for long. This inseparable bond often infuriated Rhaenyra, who cherished her moments alone with Vaella but had to contend with Aegon's tantrums whenever his sister was taken away.

Despite Rhaenyra's best efforts, Aegon and Vaella were rarely separated. The young prince's attachment to his half-sister was so strong that the servants, exasperated by Aegon's constant cries, eventually allowed the two children to sleep in the same crib. It was the only way to ensure Aegon's peaceful slumber.

In the royal chambers, Alicent Hightower, now visibly pregnant with her second child, often expressed her concerns to King Viserys about this arrangement. One evening, as she lay in bed with Viserys beside her, she broached the subject once more.

"This is not healthy, Viserys," Alicent said, her voice tinged with frustration. "Aegon is far too dependent on Vaella. They should not be sleeping in the same crib. It's not proper."

Viserys, weary from the day's duties, sighed and rubbed his temples. "They're just children, Alicent. They'll grow out of it. Let them be."

Alicent's eyes flashed with irritation. "It's not just about them growing out of it. It sets a bad precedent. Aegon should be learning to be independent, not clinging to his sister all the time."

Viserys shrugged, clearly not wanting to engage in another argument. "They're happy, and they're safe. That's all that matters."

Alicent opened her mouth to retort, but then thought better of it. Instead, she turned away, fuming silently. Her pregnancy had made her more sensitive to the disturbances in the household, and Aegon's dependency on Vaella was just one of many concerns weighing on her mind.

Meanwhile, in the nursery, Rhaenyra watched as Aegon and Vaella played together. Aegon's laughter echoed through the room as Vaella chased him, her own giggles filling the air. Rhaenyra felt a mix of love and exasperation as she approached them.

"Vaella, come with me," Rhaenyra said, holding out her hand. "Let's go for a walk."

Aegon's face immediately crumpled, and he clung to Vaella. "No! Vaella stays here!"

Rhaenyra's patience was wearing thin. "Aegon, you can't always have her with you. She needs to spend time with me too."

Aegon shook his head vehemently, his eyes filling with tears. "No! Vaella stays!"

Rhaenyra sighed, knowing that any attempt to separate them would end in another tantrum. She knelt down and gently pried Aegon's hands from Vaella. "I'll bring her back soon, I promise."

As she led Vaella out of the nursery, the sound of Aegon's wails echoed down the hallway. The servants exchanged resigned looks, knowing it was only a matter of time before Vaella would be brought back to soothe the young prince.

In the gardens, Rhaenyra and Vaella walked hand in hand. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the path. Rhaenyra looked down at her sister, her heart aching with a mix of love and frustration.

"Why do you let him cling to you so much, Vaella?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone softer now that they were alone. "Don't you want to have time just for us?"

Vaella looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "Aegon needs me," she said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "He cries when I'm not there."

Rhaenyra's heart softened at her sister's words. She knelt down to Vaella's level, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I know he does, but I need you too, Vaella. You're my sister, and I love you."

Vaella smiled and wrapped her arms around Rhaenyra's neck. "I love you too, Nyra. Always."

As they embraced, Rhaenyra felt a renewed sense of determination. She would find a way to balance her love for Vaella with the demands of their unusual family dynamic. No matter the challenges, she would protect and cherish her sister, just as she had promised on that fateful day by the pyre.

Back in the royal chambers, Alicent lay awake, her thoughts troubled. She placed a hand on her growing belly and sighed. The future seemed more uncertain than ever, but she vowed to do whatever it took to ensure the safety and well-being of her children. As she drifted off to sleep, her mind remained filled with the complexities of their intertwined destinies, each step a delicate dance in the ever-shifting sands of power and family.

...

Vaella was six years old, and her fascination with dragons had only grown with time. Despite her lack of interest in dragon eggs, her eyes would light up whenever she saw Syrax, Rhaenyra’s majestic golden dragon. One crisp morning, Rhaenyra decided it was time for her sister to experience the thrill of flying.

Rhaenyra led Vaella to the Dragonpit, where Syrax awaited. The dragon’s eyes gleamed with intelligence as Rhaenyra approached, her scales shimmering in the early morning light. Vaella’s excitement was palpable, her small hand gripping Rhaenyra’s tightly.

“Are you ready, Vaella?” Rhaenyra asked, a smile playing on her lips.

Vaella nodded eagerly. “Yes, Rhaenyra. I want to fly!”

As Rhaenyra helped Vaella climb onto Syrax’s back, the young girl’s laughter filled the air, a sound of pure joy and exhilaration. With a final check to ensure Vaella was secure, Rhaenyra mounted behind her and gave Syrax the signal to take flight.

The dragon’s powerful wings beat against the air, lifting them off the ground. Vaella’s eyes widened in wonder as the Red Keep grew smaller below them, the world unfolding in a breathtaking panorama. The wind whipped through their hair, and Vaella’s laughter echoed in the skies.

Meanwhile, back in the nursery, Aegon was throwing a fit. He had watched in dismay as Rhaenyra took Vaella away, his cries growing louder with each passing moment. Alicent, now heavily pregnant with her third child, tried to soothe him, but Aegon was inconsolable.

“Where is Vaella?” Aegon wailed, tears streaming down his face. “I want Vaella!”

Alicent knelt beside her son, her patience wearing thin. “Aegon, you need to learn to be apart from Vaella. She has other things to do, and you need to be strong without her.”

Aegon shook his head vehemently, his face red with anger and frustration. “No! You can’t take Vaella away from me! Rhaenyra can’t take her away either!”

In his tantrum, Aegon grabbed one of his toys—a wooden dragon—and threw it across the room, where it shattered against the wall. His screams grew louder, and Alicent’s attempts to calm him seemed only to fuel his rage.

“Aegon, please,” Alicent said, her voice strained. “This behavior is unacceptable. You must learn to control yourself.”

But Aegon was beyond reason, his cries echoing through the halls of the Red Keep. Alicent stood, her hands clenched at her sides, her irritation mounting. She had tried to reason with Viserys about their son’s dependence on Vaella, but he had merely shrugged it off, much to her annoyance.

As Aegon continued to scream for Rhaenyra to bring Vaella back, Alicent felt a surge of frustration. She stormed out of the nursery, determined to find Viserys and make him understand the gravity of the situation.

She found him in the council chamber, discussing matters of state with her father, Otto Hightower, and other advisors. Ignoring the decorum, Alicent marched up to him, her eyes blazing with anger.

“Viserys, we need to talk,” she said, her voice low but fierce.

Viserys looked up, surprised by her sudden appearance. “Alicent, what is it?”

“It’s Aegon,” she said, struggling to keep her composure. “He’s in the nursery throwing a tantrum because Vaella is not there. He’s become too dependent on her, and it’s not healthy. You need to take this seriously.”

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alicent, they’re just children. Siblings often form close bonds.”

“This is more than that, and you know it,” Alicent snapped. “He can’t be apart from her for even a moment without falling apart. This dependency will only grow if we don’t address it now.”

Viserys looked at her, seeing the worry and frustration etched on her face. He nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll speak with Aegon. But give them time, Alicent. They’re still so young.”

Alicent sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering frustration. “Thank you, Viserys. I just want what’s best for them.”

Meanwhile, high above the Red Keep, Rhaenyra and Vaella soared through the skies on Syrax. The city of King’s Landing spread out below them like a tapestry, and Vaella’s eyes sparkled with wonder.

“This is amazing, Rhaenyra!” Vaella shouted over the wind, her laughter infectious.

Rhaenyra smiled, her heart swelling with pride and love for her sister. “I knew you’d love it, Vaella. There’s nothing quite like flying.”

As they flew, Rhaenyra felt a sense of peace. Despite the challenges and frustrations that awaited them on the ground, up here, they were free. She vowed to cherish these moments with Vaella, to protect and nurture her sister as best she could. For now, they had the sky, and that was enough.

...

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the Red Keep, Rhaenyra and Vaella returned from their exhilarating flight on Syrax. The dragon landed gracefully in the courtyard, and Rhaenyra helped Vaella down, her heart still racing from the thrill of their adventure. The moment their feet touched the ground, Aegon came running toward them, his face streaked with tears and his cries echoing off the stone walls.

"Vaella!" Aegon wailed, rushing to her and wrapping his small arms tightly around her. "You’re back!"

Vaella hugged him back, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. "I’m here, Aegon. I’m here."

Rhaenyra watched, her annoyance simmering beneath the surface. "Aegon, you can’t just cling to Vaella like that all the time," she said, her tone sharp. "She needs her own space too."

Aegon looked up at Rhaenyra, his eyes filled with defiance and tears. "You can’t take her away from me! She’s mine!"

Rhaenyra’s patience was wearing thin. She knew it was foolish to argue with such a young child, but the possessiveness in Aegon’s voice grated on her. Vaella was the last connection she had to their mother, and the thought of sharing her sister in this way was intolerable.

"Vaella is not yours, Aegon," Rhaenyra snapped, her voice cold. "She is her own person, and you don’t own her."

Aegon’s face crumpled, and he let out another wail, his small body shaking with the force of his tantrum. "No! No! Vaella is mine! You can’t have her!"

The servants in the courtyard exchanged weary glances, clearly exasperated by the scene unfolding before them. Vaella stood in the middle, unsure of what to do, her eyes darting between her sister and her brother.

"Aegon," Vaella said softly, trying to soothe him. "It’s okay. I’m here now."

Alicent, drawn by the noise, arrived in the courtyard, her face set in a mixture of concern and frustration. "What is going on here?" she demanded, her gaze shifting from Rhaenyra to Aegon, who was still clinging to Vaella.

Rhaenyra’s eyes flashed with anger as she looked at Alicent. "Your son doesn’t understand that Vaella isn’t his to command," she said sharply. "He needs to learn some boundaries."

Alicent’s expression hardened. "Rhaenyra, he’s just a child. He doesn’t understand these things yet."

Rhaenyra’s temper flared, and she took a step forward. "And he never will if you keep coddling him like this! Vaella is not his to cling to every time he wants. She’s my sister too, and I won’t have her treated like a toy!"

Alicent’s face went pale, and she took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. "This isn’t helping anyone, Rhaenyra. We need to find a way to help Aegon understand without making things worse."

Rhaenyra’s eyes filled with tears of frustration. "Vaella is all I have left of my mother. I won’t let him take her from me."

With that, Rhaenyra turned on her heel and stormed away, leaving the courtyard in tense silence. Alicent watched her go, a sigh escaping her lips. She turned her attention back to Aegon, who was still clinging to Vaella, his sobs quieter but no less heartbreaking.

"Come here, Aegon," Alicent said softly, kneeling down to his level. "It’s okay. Vaella isn’t going anywhere."

Aegon looked up at her, his face streaked with tears. "But she left me. Rhaenyra took her."

Alicent gently pried his hands from Vaella and pulled him into a hug. "I know, darling. But sometimes Vaella needs to do things with Rhaenyra too. You’ll see her again soon, I promise."

Aegon nodded, sniffling, but his grip on Vaella’s hand remained tight. Vaella, sensing his distress, squeezed his hand back, her expression one of quiet understanding.

Alicent sighed, looking at the two children. "Let’s get you both inside. It’s getting late."

As she led them back into the Red Keep, she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of worry. The tensions between Rhaenyra and Aegon were growing, and she knew that unless something changed, these small conflicts could become much larger as they all grew older. For now, she focused on comforting her son and ensuring that Vaella felt secure, hoping that they would find a way to navigate these troubled waters together.

...

Fifteen-year-old Vaella Targaryen sat quietly beside her father, King Viserys I, in his chambers. The room was filled with the intricate model of Old Valyria that Viserys had been painstakingly working on for years. The delicate spires and towers of the ancient city gleamed under the soft light of the candles, casting intricate shadows on the walls. Vaella's small hands delicately placed a tiny bridge between two towers, her face scrunched up in concentration.

Viserys, now looking much older than his years, his health visibly deteriorating, watched his daughter with a fond smile. Despite his efforts to hide it, Vaella knew he was unwell. The signs were clear in the way he moved, slower and more deliberate, and the occasional wince of pain that crossed his features.

"You're doing wonderfully, Vaella," Viserys said, his voice soft but filled with pride. "You have a steady hand."

Vaella smiled up at him, her indigo eyes bright. "Thank you, Father. I love working on this with you."

Viserys nodded, his gaze drifting to the model before him. "It's a piece of our history. A connection to our roots." He paused, then turned to her. "How was your time with your nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys?"

Vaella's face lit up. "It was interesting. Maester Mellos was teaching us about Targaryen history, the stories of our ancestors. Then Laenor told us about the great sailors who ventured all the way to the Summer Isles. I love hearing about their adventures."

Viserys chuckled, a raspy sound that ended in a slight cough. "I'm glad you're learning and enjoying your time with them. It's important to understand where we come from." He hesitated for a moment before asking, "And how is Aegon handling the changes?"

Vaella's smile faded slightly, and she frowned, her brow furrowing. "Not very well, Father. He doesn't like it when I'm away. He gets upset and still sometimes throws tantrums."

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. "Aegon has always struggled with separation. He has a strong bond with you."

Vaella nodded, looking thoughtful. "I know he loves me, and I love him too. But sometimes it's hard. He doesn't understand that I need to spend time with others too."

Viserys placed a gentle hand on Vaella's shoulder. "It's not easy being the center of someone's world. Aegon needs to learn that you have your own life, your own interests."

Vaella looked up at him, her eyes filled with determination. "I'll help him understand, Father. I'll be patient with him."

Viserys smiled, his eyes softening. "You're wise beyond your years, Vaella. Your kindness and patience will serve you well." He paused, his expression turning more serious. "And how are you, my dear? How are you handling all these changes?"

Vaella shrugged slightly. "It's a lot, but I have you and Rhaenyra. And I love spending time with my nephews. They make me laugh and I enjoy learning with them."

Viserys nodded, feeling a pang of pride and sorrow for his young daughter. "You're a strong girl, Vaella. Stronger than you know. Always remember that."

Vaella hugged her father tightly, feeling the frailty in his embrace but also the warmth of his love. "I will, Father. I'll always remember."

...

In a quieter corner of the Red Keep, Aegon paced back and forth, his young face twisted in frustration. His younger brother, Aemond, sat nearby, trying to focus on a book but finding it impossible with Aegon's incessant complaining.

"They took her again, Aemond! They took Vaella to spend more time with Rhaenyra and her bastards," Aegon fumed, kicking at a loose stone on the floor. "They think those boys are more worthy than me!"

Aemond looked up from his book, his blue eyes sharp. "You shouldn't talk like that, Aegon. It's dangerous."

Aegon scoffed, his face a mask of indignation. "Why shouldn't I? Mother calls them bastards all the time. Everyone knows it's true."

Aemond closed his book with a sigh, setting it aside. "Just because Mother says it doesn't mean you should repeat it. It's disrespectful, and it will get you into trouble."

Aegon glared at his brother, his anger unabated. "You’re just jealous because Vaella likes me more than you."

Aemond raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued despite his annoyance. "Why is Vaella so special to you, Aegon? Why do you always want her around?"

Aegon’s expression hardened. "You're stupid for even asking that, Aemond. She just is. Nobody loves me like Vaella does. She understands me."

Aemond rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall. "That's stupid. She's just a girl. She can’t make everything better."

Aegon stepped closer, his fists clenched at his sides. "Shut up, Aemond. You don't understand anything."

Aemond shrugged, his expression indifferent. "Maybe I don't. But I heard Maester Mellos talking to Mother once. He said Vaella ate her twin. Maybe that’s why you think she’s so special. She’s got something extra from her dead brother."

Aegon’s face contorted with a mixture of horror and fascination. "What are you talking about?"

Aemond smirked, enjoying the shift in power. "It’s true. Mellos said Vaella didn't cry when she was born, not until her brother died. Maybe she took something from him. Maybe that’s why you feel so close to her."

Aegon stood silent for a moment, absorbing his brother’s words. Then, a twisted smile spread across his face. "Good. If her dead brother gave her something extra, then it's better for me. He would have taken her from me too."

Aemond frowned, not expecting that reaction. "You’re strange, Aegon. You know that?"

Aegon shrugged, a hint of madness in his eyes. "Maybe. But Vaella is mine. And no one will take her from me. Not Rhaenyra, not anyone."

Aemond sighed, shaking his head. "You’re going to get us all in trouble one day, Aegon. Mark my words."

Aegon ignored his brother, his mind already returning to thoughts of Vaella and the frustration of being separated from her. He would find a way to keep her close, no matter what it took.

…

The morning sun cast long shadows over the Dragonpit as Jacaerys, Lucerys, Aegon, Aemond, and Vaella made their way to the massive structure. The air was filled with the heady scent of dragon musk and the sound of wings flapping. Inside the pit, three dragons awaited their riders, their scales shimmering in the sunlight. Vaella stood quietly by Aemond's side, the two of them the only ones without dragons to bond with. While Aemond's frustration was evident, Vaella seemed content, her serene demeanor a stark contrast to her younger brother's visible agitation.

As the dragons were led out one by one, Vaella watched with a mix of awe and quiet longing. When Sunfyre appeared, his golden scales glinting brilliantly, Aegon eagerly grabbed Vaella's hand and pulled her along. "Come on, Vaella, let's attend to Sunfyre together."

Vaella allowed herself to be led, her eyes widening as they approached the magnificent dragon. She gently stroked Sunfyre's scales, feeling the warmth emanating from his body. Aegon stood beside her, his pride evident as he showed off his bond with the dragon. Vaella smiled softly, her affection for her brother momentarily overshadowing her usual frustrations with him.

Later, once the dragons were fed and content, Aegon let go of Vaella's hand and turned his attention to Aemond. There was a mischievous glint in his eye that Vaella did not like. Aegon, Jacaerys, and Lucerys huddled together, whispering and giggling before calling Aemond over.

"Come here, Aemond!" Aegon shouted, his voice filled with feigned excitement. "We found a dragon for you!"

Aemond's eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and suspicion. He approached cautiously, glancing back at Vaella for reassurance. She gave him a small, supportive smile, but her unease grew.

As Aemond drew closer, the boys stepped aside to reveal a pig adorned with makeshift dragon wings and a painted snout. "Behold, the Pink Dread!" Aegon announced with mock grandeur, barely able to contain his laughter.

Jacaerys and Lucerys burst into laughter, pointing at the pig and doubling over with mirth. Aemond's face turned bright red with humiliation, his eyes welling up with tears. Vaella's expression darkened, her initial amusement giving way to anger.

"Aegon, Jace, Luke, that's enough!" Vaella's voice was sharp, cutting through the laughter. "How dare you humiliate Aemond like this?"

Aegon's laughter faltered as he met Vaella's furious gaze. "It was just a joke, Vaella. We didn't mean—"

"Do I deserve the same?" Vaella interrupted, her voice cold. "I don't have a dragon either. Is this how you plan to treat me too?"

Aegon stumbled over his words, his face turning pale. "No, Vaella, I didn't mean—"

But Vaella had already turned on her heel, her expression stormy as she walked away from the Dragonpit. Aegon rushed after her, desperation in his voice. "Vaella, wait! Please, don't be mad at me. I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

Vaella stopped and spun around to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. "You always do this, Aegon. You act without thinking and hurt the people who care about you. Aemond looks up to you, and this is how you treat him?"

Aegon reached out, but Vaella stepped back, shaking her head. "I thought you were better than this."

"Vaella, I'm sorry," Aegon pleaded, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean to hurt you or Aemond. Please, forgive me."

Vaella took a deep breath, her anger still simmering but her voice softening slightly. "Apologize to Aemond. Make it right with him. And think before you act next time."

Aegon nodded, his eyes filled with regret. "I will. I promise."

As Vaella turned and walked away, Aegon stood there, watching her go with a heavy heart. He knew he had to make amends, not just with Aemond but also with Vaella. The bonds of family were fragile, and he had to learn to cherish and protect them.

Inside the Dragonpit, Aemond stood alone, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Vaella approached him, her expression softening. "I'm sorry they treated you like that, Aemond. You deserve better."

Aemond looked up, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Vaella. You're the only one who seems to understand."

Vaella hugged her brother tightly. "We'll find our own dragons one day, Aemond. Until then, we have each other."

As they walked away together, the bond between them strengthened, a promise of loyalty and support in a world filled with uncertainty and strife.

…

That evening, Vaella sat in her chambers, the events of the day weighing heavily on her mind. The candles flickered softly, casting gentle shadows on the walls, as she tried to find some semblance of peace. Her thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door.

“Vaella, it’s me,” Aegon’s voice came through the door, hesitant yet determined.

Vaella sighed, already knowing why he was here. “Come in, Aegon.”

Aegon entered, closing the door behind him. He looked uncertain, his usual bravado tempered by a mix of guilt and frustration. “I wanted to apologize again. The idea was Jace and Luke’s, not mine.”

Vaella made a grimace, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Then why does it reek of you, Aegon?”

Aegon’s irritation flared, and he stepped closer, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why do you care so much about annoying Aemond? He’s just—”

“He’s my brother too, Aegon,” Vaella interrupted sharply, her eyes blazing. “Just like you are.”

Aegon pressed on, his voice lower but intense. “But you love me more, don’t you?”

Vaella frowned, seeing the familiar possessiveness in Aegon’s eyes. It had not diminished with time, if anything, it had grown. “Aegon, I will always love you. But I also love Jace, Luke, Aemond, and even little Joffrey. We’re all family.”

Aegon stepped even closer, their faces now mere inches apart. “But you love me more, right?” he asked, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper.

Vaella’s heart pounded in her chest, her emotions a whirlwind of love, frustration, and understanding. She met his gaze steadily, her voice soft but firm. “Yes, Aegon. I love you more.”

Aegon’s tense expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead, a gesture that held both affection and possessiveness. He then began to shed his attire, his movements slow and deliberate. Vaella watched him, her own feelings a mix of resignation and affection.

“Aegon,” she warned gently, “if your mother finds out we’re sharing a bed again, she’ll yell at both of us.”

Aegon shrugged, climbing into her bed with a dismissive smile. “Let her yell. I don’t care. Come here.”

Vaella’s resolve wavered, and eventually, she couldn’t help but smile. She slipped into the bed beside him, the ritual familiar and comforting. They had been sharing a bed since they were babes, a habit that had persisted despite Alicent’s disapproval.

As they lay together, Aegon wrapped his arms around Vaella, holding her close. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The warmth of his embrace was soothing, a reminder of their unbreakable bond despite the chaos around them.

They didn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, they lay in the quiet, drawing comfort from each other’s presence. Vaella felt Aegon’s breath against her hair, his hold on her gentle yet possessive. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax for the first time that day.

“Vaella,” Aegon murmured, his voice soft in the darkness. “I promise I’ll never let anyone come between us. Not Rhaenyra, not anyone.”

Vaella sighed, her heart aching with a mixture of love and sadness. “I know, Aegon. And I’ll always be here for you.”

They held onto each other, finding solace in their shared closeness. The world outside might be fraught with tension and uncertainty, but in this moment, they were simply a brother and sister, bound by love and loyalty.

…

Alicent Hightower strode through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep, her frustration mounting with each step. She had been looking for her eldest son, Aegon, to confront him about the cruel prank he and Rhaenyra’s sons had played on Aemond. Finding his chambers empty had only intensified her annoyance, as she knew exactly where he would be—once again with his half-sister, Vaella.

Alicent had tried her best to separate the two as they grew older, understanding the potential complications their bond could bring. But no matter her efforts, Aegon always found his way back to Vaella, their connection unbroken. She couldn't help but recall Maester Mellos’ words about Vaella being strange since birth, and the implications of that observation gnawed at her.

Meanwhile, in Vaella's chambers, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to Alicent's rising tension. Vaella and Aegon lay in her bed, still entwined in their embrace. Aegon’s lips trailed down her cheek to her neck, eliciting a soft hitch in her breath. She clutched at him gently, feeling the warmth of his body against hers.

“Aegon,” she whispered, her voice breathy with both pleasure and concern, “promise me again you won’t mock Aemond like that again.”

Aegon’s kisses paused for a moment as he sighed. “I promise,” he murmured before resuming his tender exploration. His hands roamed over her curves, their touch growing more familiar and intimate with time. His movements against her nightgown became more urgent, her quiet moans filling the room.

Just as Aegon’s urgency peaked and he found release, spilling his seed onto Vaella’s thigh, the door to her chambers swung open. Both Aegon and Vaella sat up abruptly, alarmed and disheveled.

Alicent’s worried frown deepened as she took in the sight before her. She quickly closed the door behind her, her gaze intense. “Did you do it?” she demanded, her voice strained with a mix of anger and fear.

Vaella blushed deeply, realizing the insinuation behind Alicent's question. “No, Mother. We didn’t… we never go that far,” she stammered, her words tumbling over each other.

Alicent sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly with relief, though her irritation remained. She turned her focus to Aegon. “And what about the pig, Aegon? The Pink Dread?”

Aegon deflected, his tone dismissive. “It was Jace and Luke’s idea.”

Alicent scolded him, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t lie to me, Aegon. You were just as much a part of it.”

Aegon rolled his eyes and lay back on the bed, clearly unwilling to continue the conversation. “Fine, whatever,” he muttered.

Vaella interjected, her voice calm but firm. “I made him promise not to mock Aemond again, Mother.”

Alicent’s gaze softened slightly as she looked at Vaella. Despite the tension, she recognized the sincerity in her stepdaughter’s words. “Good. That’s good,” she said quietly. Before leaving, she turned back to them, her expression resolute. “This is the last time you two will share a bed.”

Vaella nodded, understanding the gravity of Alicent’s words but knowing deep down it was a promise neither she nor Aegon intended to keep. “Yes, Mother,” she replied.

Alicent gave them one last look, a mixture of concern and resignation in her eyes, before she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

As the door clicked shut, Aegon sat up again, his demeanor shifting from defiance to a more contemplative mood. “She won’t keep us apart, you know,” he said softly, reaching out to take Vaella’s hand.

Vaella squeezed his hand gently, a small smile playing on her lips. “I know, Aegon. But we should be careful.”

He nodded, pulling her closer. “Always,” he promised.

They lay back down together, the quiet of the room wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. In the stillness of the night, they found solace in each other's presence, knowing that no matter what, they would face the world together.

…

The meeting of the small council was underway in the grand chamber of the Red Keep. The air was thick with the scent of burning candles and the tension of unresolved conflicts. Rhaenyra, dressed in her regal black and red attire, sat at the head of the table, her face composed but her eyes betraying the urgency of her thoughts. King Viserys, though visibly weakened by his illness, was present, his presence lending an air of gravitas to the proceedings. Alicent Hightower, her face a mask of controlled composure, sat beside him, her eyes watchful and calculating.

As the discussions turned to matters of succession and alliances, Rhaenyra seized the moment to present her proposal. "To ease the tensions between our families," she began, her voice steady and clear, "I propose that my son, Jacaerys, be betrothed to Helaena. This union would strengthen our family bonds."

A murmur ran through the room, and all eyes turned to Alicent, who clenched her hands in her lap to keep her composure. "And to further show goodwill," Rhaenyra continued, "when Syrax lays her next clutch of eggs, Aemond may choose an egg for himself."

Alicent's face tightened, her distress at the idea of her daughter marrying a boy widely rumored to be a bastard threatening to show. She forced herself to remain calm, her voice measured as she replied. "While your proposal is... thoughtful, Princess, I counter with a suggestion of my own. Let Aegon and Vaella be engaged to each other instead."

Rhaenyra's eyes flashed with anger, but she controlled her temper. "That is out of the question," she said firmly. "Vaella deserves more than a life tied to Aegon."

Viserys, who had been silent, finally spoke up, his voice weak but resolute. "I agree with Rhaenyra. Aegon is my son, but he is not suitable for Vaella."

Alicent's composure slipped for a moment, her eyes blazing with frustration. "You did nothing to sever the link between them, Viserys. And now you dispute this match? How can Rhaenyra's son be good enough for Helaena, but our son is not good enough for Vaella?"

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. "Aegon is impulsive and lacks the qualities necessary to care for someone as precious as Vaella. She deserves a kind and understanding partner."

Alicent stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. "This is not about what Vaella deserves," she snapped, her voice shaking with barely controlled anger. "This is about your favoritism, your willingness to sacrifice my children’s future for the sake of Rhaenyra's."

Rhaenyra remained seated, her expression unyielding. "Alicent, this is not about favoritism. It's about what is best for Vaella and the realm. Jacaerys and Helaena's union would benefit everyone."

Alicent glared at Rhaenyra, her frustration and anger boiling over. "I will not allow my daughter to be used as a pawn in your game, Rhaenyra. This discussion is over."

With that, Alicent turned and stormed out of the chamber, her mind churning with resentment. How could Rhaenyra's bastard be deemed good enough for Helaena, yet Vaella be too good for her son? The injustice of it all gnawed at her, fueling her determination to find a way to secure her children's future.

Back in the council chamber, an uneasy silence settled over the room. Viserys looked tired, his earlier resolve waning. "Let us continue," he said quietly. "There are other matters to discuss."

Rhaenyra nodded, her mind already moving to the next topic, but the tension from the earlier confrontation lingered. She knew that Alicent's anger was far from quelled and that the coming days would bring new challenges. But for now, she focused on the task at hand, determined to protect her family and secure a future where they could all find peace.

…

Vaella Targaryen noticed the change in the atmosphere of the Red Keep after the birth of her sister Rhaenyra's third son, Joffrey. The castle felt like a simmering pot, ready to boil over. The departure of Harwin Strong and his father, Lyonel, back to Harrenhal only added to the tension. Whispers and sideways glances became more frequent, and the sense of unease permeated the halls.

One afternoon, as Vaella was wandering the corridors, she overheard some of the servants talking in hushed tones. "Did you hear? Princess Rhaenyra is taking her family to Dragonstone."

Vaella's heart skipped a beat. The idea of her sister leaving was unthinkable. She hurried through the winding passages, her mind racing with worry and confusion, until she found Rhaenyra in her chambers, packing her belongings.

"Rhaenyra!" Vaella cried, bursting into the room. "Is it true? Are you leaving for Dragonstone?"

Rhaenyra turned to her, her face calm but her eyes betraying the storm of emotions within. "Yes, Vaella. We are leaving."

Vaella felt a lump in her throat. "But why? Father will be devastated. And I can't bear the thought of losing you. Please, you can't leave me here."

Rhaenyra walked over to her sister and placed her hands on Vaella's shoulders. "You know why I must leave," she said gently. "The situation here is becoming untenable. For the safety of my children and myself, we need to be away from the court and its intrigues."

Vaella's eyes filled with tears. She knew the truth about the parentage of Rhaenyra's children, but it mattered little to her. They were her nephews, and she loved them dearly. "But people will talk no matter what you do," she said, her voice trembling. "Why can't I come with you?"

Rhaenyra sighed, her heart aching at the sight of her sister's distress. She pulled Vaella into a tight embrace. "You are so brave, Vaella," she whispered. "But I need you to stay here and look after our father. His health is failing, and he needs someone he can trust by his side."

Vaella clung to Rhaenyra, her tears soaking into her sister's dress. "I don't want to lose you," she said, her voice muffled.

Rhaenyra pulled back slightly, looking into Vaella's indigo eyes. "You won't lose me. We'll write to each other, and I'll visit whenever I can. But you must promise me that you'll be strong and take care of Father. He needs you more than ever now."

Vaella nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of the responsibility. "I promise," she whispered.

Rhaenyra kissed her sister's forehead, a bittersweet smile on her lips. "You are my heart, Vaella. And I know you will do great things. Stay strong, for both of us."

As Rhaenyra continued to pack, Vaella stood by, feeling a mix of sorrow and determination. The castle felt more oppressive than ever, but she knew that her sister was right. She had to be strong for their father, to be the anchor he needed in these troubled times.

The day Rhaenyra and her family left for Dragonstone, Vaella stood beside her father, watching the dragons take flight. The sky was filled with the beating of powerful wings, and Vaella felt a tear slip down her cheek. She glanced at Viserys, who looked frail and weary, a shadow of the king he once was. She took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

"Don't worry, Father," she said softly. "I'll be here for you. Always."

Viserys looked down at his youngest daughter, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and sadness. "Thank you, Vaella," he whispered, his voice trembling. "You are my strength."

As the dragons disappeared into the horizon, Vaella felt a sense of resolve settle over her. She would honor her sister's trust and protect their father, no matter the cost.

#game of thrones #romance #dragons #house of the dragon #viserys targaryen #daemon targaryen #alicent hightower #otto hightower #aemond targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #jace velaryon #luke velaryon #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x you #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon x oc #helaena targaryen #fanfic

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