#and Thorn can join in too

[hall0wedwyrm]

HI HELLO I JUST FINISHED SONIC PRIME PT2 HERES MY OFFICAL REVIEW SPOILERS AHEAD (these thoughts are very unorganised just a warning)

The next post might be some like more general thoughts and theories

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

DJSKLHFJKDHgjkhgkljgkjJFDSKAGKHGJKD RAAHHHH

so yeah it was pretty awesome. Nine Villain Arc is gonna be a banger. Shadow gets to say 'I told you so' like 80 different times. Everytime someone turned on Sonic I was like Shadow was right. btw Shadow is so pretty its not fair, liek they weren't even doing anything and i was like pretty,,,,,

Also Chaos Sonic didn't deserve to be hit by a bus like that wtf. and then shot by a lazer. They were so goofy and silly and chaotic i miss them :(

ALSO ALSO I LITERALLY PRESSED THE PAUSE BUTTON SO HARD WHEN SONIC SAID "I heart you too Shadow" I HAD TO TAKE A MINUTE TO PROCESS. WHO DID THIS I NEED A WORD. I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE.

anyway, Prime Sonic might be my favourite because he has really good emotional moments (like nine turning on him) while also being silly and chaotic. The end with his Paradox power up (which i wish to call Paradox Sonic) when he was talking to himself also really reminded me of Movie Sonic (and when he high fived himself!? ohmygod thats my blorbo right there)

Im a very big believer in 'Please let Dread come back and cause more problems because hes so delightful' when he grabbed onto the Mothership and i was just like DREAD. DREAD NO.

[sena-seastar]

Heart to Heart

Aemond x Wife Reader

Summary: Aemond spends time with your child so that you can have a much-needed break.

A/N: I'm back with more, Dad!Aemond, because I adore him so much. Aemond deserves someone who will love him as deeply and unconditionally as he loves them, and his baby definitely would. (Also, any dialogue in italics means the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was too lazy to attempt to translate it.) No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes.

“Daenys, please calm down,” you plead as you try to pacify the wailing girl.

Though your words seem to fall on deaf ears, she continues to scream and flail in your arms. You want nothing more than to join in as tears well in your eyes. You were at your wit's end. Nothing seemed to placate your child. Not even the sweets you had tried to bribe her with. 

The nursemaids had changed her nappy several times. They’ve tried feeding, bathing, offering toys, and even taking her for a walk in the gardens. Yet none of it worked. They brought her to you as a last resort, hoping she might be missing her mother. Unfortunately, their hopes went unfounded.

Daenys continued to thrash in your arms, and you struggled to keep a grip on her. She was surprisingly strong for someone so small. 

“Shh, it’s alright,” you coo, bouncing the fussy girl in your arms. “Are you tired? Shall we take a nap?”

Your questions only incite her fury. Daenys lets out an ear-splitting screech. You groaned, eyes closing in frustration at the situation. 

“How about we give your mother a break, hmm?”

You look up, finding your husband now standing before you. He takes your little girl into his arms, and for the first time in forever, she settles down. She doesn’t squirm and try to get away from him, and her wails turn into low whimpers and quiet hiccups. You watch as he handles her with such ease. Aemond pats her back and talks to her in a soothing voice, gently bouncing her in his arms. Daenys rested her head on his shoulder, her tiny fists held tightly onto his coat.

“I’m terrible at this,” you huffed, shame blooming in your chest. 

“No, you’re not.” Aemond leaned down, pressing a gentle, reassuring kiss to your head. “I’ll take her for a bit. Get some rest.”

You nod, grateful for his help. He waves Daenys’ hand towards you as they leave. You wave back until the pair disappear from your view. You sigh in relief as your body slumps onto the Grecian couch beneath you. You debate whether to continue with your book or take a quick nap.

-

Aemond holds Daenys close to his chest as he maneuvers himself off his saddle. Ser Rickard Thorne stands to the side, wearing his freshly polished armor and pristine white cloak. Aemond nods at him, and the white knight quickly takes Aemond’s horse by the reins, leading the horse away.

The dragon lord looked down, watching Daenys as she toyed with the wooden dragon in her hands. He smiled. The familiar warm fuzzy feeling that filled his entire body every time he laid his eyes on her returned. It was hard to believe that something so beautiful and innocent could come from him. But here she was. The two of you had created something- someone so precious. 

A loud grumble sounded in the air. Aemond lifted his head, observing Vhagar. The giant dragon was hard to miss, even from a great distance.

The overgrown grass and twigs squish and cackle beneath his boots as he walked into the open field where the ancient she-dragon resided. Vhagar had outgrown the dragonpit years before he had even claimed her. Vhagar turned her giant head to the side, watching them as they approached. She shut her eyes again when she realized it was just him.

Daenys let out a delighted squeal when her eyes finally landed on the giant dragon. Aemond struggled to hold her as she excitedly kicked her legs and waved her arms. Aemound cursed under his breath as the wooden dragon toy fell to the ground. Oh well, he would retrieve it later.

“What is it, my little dragon?” He asked enthusiastically. “What do you see?”

 Daenys clapped her little hands and babbled, “Vava!”

“Vhagar? Do you see Vhagar?”

She looks up to him and nods her head. Her violet eyes lock onto his, and the two smile at each other. Aemond planted a kiss on the girl’s temple, gaining sweet, girlish giggles in response.

“Very good, my little dragon. It is Vhagar.”

Daenys begins to squirm in his arms and tries to push him away.

“What is it? Do you want down?”

Aemond looks down at the grass, checking for any potential dangers. Your little girl grunts and continues to try to push him away.

Aemond huffs, “Alright, alright.”

His lips curve downward into a slight frown. The two of you had been very proud and excited when Daenys started walking. However, Aemond was a little saddened by the fact that his sweet little girl didn’t want to be in his arms all the time anymore.

His mother had told him that it’s normal for them to want to be more independent when they start walking. The man understood that, but he still did not like it one bit.

Aemond carefully lowers the little girl to her feet. Her chubby little fingers hold onto his hands as she tries to stabilize herself. When she finally stops wobbling, she lets go. Aemond’s heart races in his chest as he watches her take a small, shaky step forward. His hands immediately reach out to grab her, but he stops himself.

Daenys takes another step; this time, she’s a bit more stable. She holds her arms out, trying to balance her weight as she trots forward. Aemond follows closely behind. With each step, he felt a twinge of panic in his chest. The man struggled not to swoop her into his arms every time she stumbled.

Thankfully, they made it to Vhagar rather quickly. Vhagar gave a small huff as Daenys small hands smacked against her snout. 

“Gentle,” Aemond warned sternly, well aware of his dragon's short temper. 

The man kneeled next to her. He took one of Daenys little hands into his own, showing her how to pet Vhagar’s snout carefully. Daenys let out another excited squeal that made Aemond wince. 

“Yes,” he nodded. “It’s very exciting, but we must be quiet.”

Daenys pulled her hand away from his, wanting to try it alone. Vhagar remained still, resting lazily on her chin. Aemond stood back up. He rested his large palm against her warm green scales with a joyous smile. She truly is a sight to behold.

Vhagar was the largest and fiercest dragon in the world. Nothing could stand against her. And yet she decided that he, of all people, was worthy of her. That he deserved the privilege to call himself her rider. No one could question or deny his worth now.

“Vava, pay?”

Aemond looked down, watching as his little girl tried to get the dragon’s attention. Her silver curls fell onto her face. The man reached down, pushing the strands of hair behind her ears. He felt a bit sorry for her. Vhagar was nowhere near as active as Daenys' little hatchling, who resided in the dragon pit. She did not flap her wings or let out any shrieks of excitement like Daenys’ hatchling did when they saw each other.

Daenys tugged on his coat. She turned her head up to look at him. Her brows were drawn together, and her bottom lip protruded further than her top lip. The look on her face tugged at his heartstrings.

“Play? No, Vhagar does not want to play.”

Your little girl does not seem to accept his answer. She turns her attention back to the dragon, gently petting her scales a few more times. Daenys tries calling out to her again, but Vhagar still gives no response. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. Aemond initially planned to take her to the dragon pit, but he decided against it. Mostly because he wanted to come out and visit Vhagar. He could seldom go a day without coming to see his winged companion. 

Suddenly, a loud grumble echoed in Vhagar’s throat. The dragon, finally having enough of the child’s affection, raised her head. Daenys, who was balancing herself on Vhagar’s head, fell back, landing on her bottom with a loud oomph.

“Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī,” Aemond commanded as he swiftly took Daenys into his arms.

Vhagar did not move, nor did she make a sound. The ancient dragon merely eyed the two of them. When Aemond felt confident enough that she would not act, he turned his attention to Daenys.

The look on her face is heart-wrenching. Her wide eyes filled with tears, and her trembling lips stretched into a deep frown. Her breath hitched as she tried not to cry. It makes Aemond feel like he wants to cry as well. He pressed a kiss to the child’s temple.

“Don’t cry, my little love. You’ll be alright.” He tried to reassure her.

She blinks, and tears fall from her violet eyes. Sad, quiet whimpers escape from her lips. Tears started to well up in Aemond’s eye, his breath quivered, and a lump formed in his throat. He was never one to cry. It made him feel weak and small, something he despised more than anything. 

But when his little girl was upset like this, he wanted to cry. Sometimes, he still wanted to cry even when she wasn’t upset. There were many times when he would just watch her while she played or slept, and then suddenly, he would be hit with a massive wave of emotions. Aemond wondered if Viserys had ever felt that way when he looked at him or any of his siblings.

Vhagar let out a loud huff. A wave of hot air engulfs Aemond and Daenys. Aemond looks up, observing Vhagar carefully. The green dragon lowers her head, gently nudging her snout against the crying girl. Aemond raises his hand to wipe away Daenys’ tears.

“Look, she’s sorry for making you sad.”

Daenys sniffled and turned to look at Vhagar. The corners of her mouth turned upwards. She giggled as she rested her forehead against Vhagar’s snout. Her little arms did their best to hug the dragon’s giant head. 

Aemond chuckled lightly, raising his hand to give Vhagar a few rewarding pats. His chest was bursting with pride as he watched his favorite girls interact. The only one who was missing was you.

[phantasm-echo]

POV: you wake up in the middle of your own autopsy with force powers then immediately get brainwashed into falling to the dark side

I was reminded of the fact that I haven’t drawn inquisitor!fives’ autopsy scars in way too long so here I am, delivering a few too many Fives 💀

Anyway I know I don’t post much about the AU on here so props to anyone who knows what’s going on here even slightly, I’ve decided to nerf siren!echo (who WAS part of this AU yes I know quite random) but since him being turned into a siren kinda limits what I can do with him story wise he is now an AU of the AU.

That means the name I came up with for the au (dead mean walking/swimming or dmw(s) as I’ve been tagging it) is kinda irrelevant. I’ll just call this the inquisitor fives AU but if you have any AU name suggestions feel free to drop them.

Here are some of the major factors of the AU:

It gets worse before it gets better

(WARNING: there are quite a few heavy topics covered in the AU such as torture, dehumanisation and su*cidal thoughts, so pls read at your own discretion)

- fives wakes up in the middle of his own autopsy with force sensitivity, then gets brainwashed into falling to the Dark Side by Palpatine. As an Inquisitor, he does not remember anything about his life because those memories were blocked by Palpatine.

- Palpatine discovers that Fives is essentially immortal, and any injuries inflicted on him will heal no matter how bad.

- when echo gets rescued from skako minor, he is recalled to Kamino for experimentation, first of all so they can figure out what the Techno Union did to him, second of all to see how he survived his injuries. Nala se, who knows that fives came back to life, theorises that since he and echo were tube twins they share the “immortality”. He is kept on Kamino for VERY extensive experimentation where terrible things happen to him (cough vivisection cough lobotomy) and so never joins Clone Force 99 even if he did work with them on Anaxes.

- Fives in this time is sent out on many missions by Palpatine that involve him unaliving many people, and after the rise of the Empire he hunts a few Jedi.

- Fox, who throughout the war had experienced many blackout missions where he woke up afterwards covered in blood, is the last living Coruscant Guard commander. (Thorn dies, stone vanishes one day, Thire mistakes Vader for a Jedi and pays the price) Despite the best efforts of his son secretary Dogma (no way!?) Fox has very little will to live, is extremely depressed and borderline suicidal, he would like nothing more than to bite the dust, but still feels he has a duty to the very few remaining corries and so tries to keep it together (he is failing)

- one day Palpatine decides he doesn’t need Fox to do his bidding anymore since he has much better assets at his disposal (Fives), and decides it would be ironic to sic his pet clone inquisitor onto Fox. Fives still doesn’t remember anything, and only knows that Fox is responsible for the main scars on his body and believes fox is the reason he doesn’t remember most of his life, and so sets out to kill fox. They battle it out (ref to that one animation wip I posted) and fives is on the verge of killing fox (who didn’t really try to fight that much, like I said he would very much like to die and dying at the hand of the vod he “killed” seems fitting to him) when he gets a sudden vision of echo.

- all fives knows is echo is extremely important to him and must be rescued and that snaps him out of palpatine’s control. He knows he probably can’t rescue echo alone, and since fox has already been betrayed by the empire he decides “fuck it” and basically kidnaps fox and they run. They make a deal, that once echo has been found, Fives will put Fox out of his misery (fox feels that fives should be the only person to kill him, and only goes along with the plan because he refuses to let anyone else kill him)

- fox and fives proceed to go on an intergalactic road trip to “rescue echo” even though neither of them know how to do that. They become closer friends throughout, and fives slowly regains bits and pieces of the Before

- meanwhile during the destruction of Kamino, the bad batch stumble on echo and rescue him and he stays with them for a little bit before leaving with Rex

- meanwhile Dogma helps the rest of the remaining Corries desert, kills too many storm troopers, and tries to go after his buir fox and the bastard inquisitor who kidnapped him

This is the main stuff you need to know for the AU haha so if you’ve got new name suggestions I’m all ears ty!!

[parkerslatte]

Uncertain Bonds

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: none

Summary: While posing as a couple at a high end event on a small kingdom the Night Court is supposed to make an alliance with, Y/N and Azriel uncover some shady business and need to act quickly to avoid getting caught.

Prompt(s): 4.Pretending to be in a relationship for a mission/ event. 31. "They're looking. Kiss me now." 16. Character A pushes B against a wall to kiss them. 29. “Do you think they bought the act?" "While I kissed you down your throat? They definitely did, honey."

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Azriel took a glass of wine from the serving table and brought it to his lips. He never took a sip as he surveyed the room. Everyone was dressed in extravagant gowns and danced around the room happily. So far, nothing seemed to be amiss. 

“You do realise that standing in a dark corner staring at people intensely may be a cause for concern, right?” Y/N said, sauntering up to Azriel. 

As he turned to look at her, Azriel felt himself become weak at the knees as he took her in. The dress she wore was one he has seen a couple of times before. She mainly wore it to Starfall or some other event. Though Azriel remembered her wearing it the day she bought it. That was the day the mating bond snapped for him. And it was the day he began to avoid Y/N. 

At first his avoidance wasn’t intentional. The first time he excused himself from her was just after the bond snapped and he was dealing with the shock of finding his mate. Someone he never thought he would find; he had never expected to find his mate within his best friend, the one he had loved for centuries. Everything overwhelmed him and the more he felt the bond, the more he unintentionally avoided Y/N. 

Up until he was asked to join her on her mission. 

“You know this isn’t the usual work I do,” Azriel said, taking a sip of his wine. Normally he would never drink while doing a job, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed it to help him relax in Y/N’s presence. 

“I know that, my love, but you need to relax tonight,” Y/N said, stepping closer to him, gently taking the glass of wine from his grasp. “Loosen up a little.”

Y/N took a sip before placing the glass down on the nearby table. She leaned up to whisper in Azriel’s ear. “If you don’t relax, people will begin to suspect.”

Y/N’s scent sent Azriel’s senses into overdrive as her perfume seemed to surround him. There was a small voice in the back of his mind telling him to wrap her up and take her right there in front of everyone, claim her as his own. Azriel knew that it was just the bond talking— the desire talking— but the image did cross his mind. 

Before Azriel even had the chance to say anything, Y/N pulled away and took Azriel’s hand in hers. “Now come and dance with your wife.” 

Oh, how Azriel wished that were true. 

Y/N led him onto the dance floor and positioned their arms herself. Azriel remained rigid as people surrounding them stared for a moment too long. Of course they did. After all, Azriel was the only one in the whole building who had a pair of wings sprouting from his back. 

Y/N giggled at Azriel’s rigid position. “You can relax a little more than that, Az.”

“I can’t,” Azriel replied. “We aren’t here to dance. We are here to do a job.”

A small frown appeared on Y/N’s face for a brief moment but it was gone and quickly replaced by an easy smile. “This is my job, Azriel.” Y/N began to slowly lead the dance. Azriel followed in step, though not as graceful as Y/N. “I don’t keep to the shadows and watch. I get involved and listen.”

“That is not how I do things,” Azriel replied

“No it’s not,” Y/N said. “But this is my mission, not yours. I am in charge.”

Azriel sighed. “I know. I don’t like feeling so exposed.”

Instead of the forced smile, Azriel saw that it was replaced by a small genuine smile. He felt his heart skip a beat. “I know,” she replied. “But you know that if anything were to go wrong, I will have your back and I know that you will have mine. That is the way it has always been.”

“And it always will be,” Azriel finished. 

Y/N’s eyes lit up and her grip tightened on him as they spun around the ballroom. “What happened to us, Az?”

Azriel frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean?”

For a split second, Y/N looked down at the floor between them and stumbled over her feet. Azriel quickly stopped and steadied her. 

“Perhaps your little girlfriend there should lay off of the wine,” a woman near the sneered as Y/N gently knocked into her. 

Azriel growled in her direction. The woman backed away quickly. 

“Az,” Y/N said, gaining his attention again. “Let us go to the side of the ballroom, perhaps it will be better for us.”

Azriel wrapped an arm around her waist and walked with her to the side of the ballroom, standing near another couple talking quietly to one another. As they neared them, the couple looked at the two as if studying both Y/N and Azriel. 

Azriel simply ignored them. 

“What I meant by my words, Az, was why haven’t we been as close over the past year? You have barely even looked in my direction and when we are alone you always find an excuse to cut out conversation short. You were meant to be my best friend, you seem to not want that anymore.”

No. Azriel didn’t want to be best friends anymore. He wanted so much more than that. He wanted to love Y/N freely. He wanted to kiss her. To hug her. To be with her every waking moment of the day. He was made to be with her. He wanted to be her mate. He wanted to be her husband. The ring on his finger used to keep up appearance felt so foreign but felt so right. The pair to it on Y/N’s finger. Azriel only wished it was real. 

All he wanted was her, but he couldn’t express that to her. 

“I do want that,” Azriel said. “I will always want that.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?” Y/N questioned. “You even asked if Cassian could come on this mission instead.”

Azriel sighed and looked around the room. “Look, Y/N I will tell you—“

Azriel cut himself off as he noticed the couple they had stood next to secretly slip out of the room and through the servants passage. “That couple is gone.”

“You think there’s a possibility that they are who we’re after?” Y/N asked, suddenly switching to her professional mindset. 

“We were told that they were young,” Azriel said. “So far they seem like the ones who fit the description the most.” 

“Let me slip out first,” Y/N said. “Follow me after.”

As Y/N went to walk away, Azriel gently took her hand in his. “Be careful,” he said. 

Y/N offered him a small smile. “I always am.”

Y/N slipped away and Azriel watched her, sending a shadow to wrap around her arm to keep an eye on her. Even though he was going to catch up to her quite soon, he wanted a piece of him with her to make sure she would be okay. 

Y/N slipped out and Azrie remained by the wall for a few moments longer. No one else in the entire room seemed to pay any attention. Azriel slowly made his way out into the servants passage. Still there was no one looking his way. Azriel slipped into the passage. 

It was dimmer in the passage but the moment Azriel’s eyes found Y/N, his heart yearned for her. In the dim lighting, she seemed to shine as the light hit her jewellery and dress. She was the most beautiful being he had ever seen. She looked ethereal. 

“Az,” Y/N whispered. “They didn’t go too far. Come on.”

Azriel and Y/N walk a little further down the passage until they turn a corner. The passage opened up to the main hall just off from the ballroom. 

“They went through the door there,” Y/N whispered. 

The two stood just outside of the door, just about hearing what the two were discussing inside. 

“The funds are paid in full,” the female said. “There shouldn’t be a problem sending them though now.”

The male seemed to sigh. “Do you know how long I have waited for those funds? Do you know how long I have been lying to my father because you didn’t do your job properly and allowed someone to get away with the entire kingdom’s fortune.”

“These things take time!” The female exclaimed. “I had a hard time trying to track down the one who stole from you father.”

“Eight months,” the male replied. “It took you eight months. My father needed those funds. That court in Prythian has been questioning where all of their trade deals are. Do you know how much my father had lied because of what you did? He’s afraid it will cause a war and you know that we do not have the army to back us up. We barely have the funds because of you.”

“I’m sorry!” The female cried. 

“I take it we found the reason why all of the trade has stopped suddenly,” Y/N whispered. 

“But can we get back to where we were before all of this happened?” The female begged. “I love you!”

The male didn’t reply. “I don’t think that is a possibility. You have betrayed my father therefore you have betrayed me. You are lucky I am not banishing you for what you did.”

“Please!” The female cried. 

“No,” the male replied. “Anything that was between us is over. I will tell my father the truth of what happened and that he can now send his trade deals again. Be lucky that the court in Prythian decided not to send anyone here. You know their reputation.”

Footsteps approached the door and Azriel and Y/N began to panic. There was nowhere to hide. Azriel frantically looked around the hall and there was a small alcove. He wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her into it. Her back pressed tightly against his front. 

Azriel could feel all of her pressing against him. Her soft skin against his. The scent of her shampoo wafting up to his nose. The slope of her neck enticing Azriel to press his lips against it. 

The door opened and two footsteps came out onto the stone floor. Y/N held her breath and pressed her body further into Azriel’s. As she did so, her hand accidentally brushed the sensitive skin of his wing. Azriel jerked. 

A small vase to the side of Azriel fell from the ornate stone podium it sat on, cracking on the floor.

Everything stilled. 

“Who's there?” The male asked. 

Y/N turned around to look at Azriel, her eyes wide in panic. 

“I know your there,” the male said and Azriel realised that he had caught sight of the edge of his wings. 

Y/N, seemingly realising the same thing as Azriel whispered; “They’re looking. Kiss me now.”

“What?” Azriel whispered. He knew exactly what Y/N and said but he needed that second confirmation. 

“Kiss me,” Y/N said. 

Not wasting a moment longer, Azriel surged forward and pressed his lips against Y/N’s. They were just as he imagined. Soft, slightly sticky from her lip gloss, but Azriel didn’t care. He needed more. 

He spun the two around and pressed her against the wall kissing her even harder. Pressing his body against hers. His hand pressed between the wall and her head to not harm her. 

Y/N’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands. Azriel couldn’t help but moan deeply. Y/N only smiled against his lips. 

Azriel couldn’t get enough of her feel. He wished he could stay like this for eternity. He pulled away slightly. “Jump.”

Y/N did as he commanded and jumped up to wrap her legs around his hips. The slit in her dress made it easy. His hand found her thigh and squeezed it tightly before moving to her ass and it remained there. 

Azriel pressed his lips against hers, feeling himself harden in his trousers. The need to have her had taken over. 

His lips left Y/N’s lips and trailed down her neck, slightly nibbling the sensitive skin. 

“Az…” Y/N whined. 

Her hips seemed to move as she gained more friction. 

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Azriel panted against her skin, placing open mouthed kisses against the base of her throat. 

Azriel gripped her hair and pulled her head back, allowing him more access. Y/N only pulled on him in return. Azriel smirked against her neck. 

In their lust filled haze, Azriel and Y/N forgot about the two figures standing just behind them. The male cleared his throat. 

“Excuse me?” The male spoke up. 

Azriel felt as if he were doused in cold water as he pulled away from Y/N’s neck to look over his shoulder. 

“What?” Azrie growled, annoyed that he was interrupted. 

The female’s face was bright red as she looked between Y/N and Azriel. 

“I will return to the ballroom,” the female said, clearly flustered. She left rather quickly. 

The male remained, his eyes narrowed. 

Y/N smirked. “You can join us if you want? Sometimes it takes more than one male to satisfy me.”

Azriel’s hand squeezed Y/N’s ass possessively as the male simply scoffs and walks away. Neither Azriel nor Y/N moved until they were sure they were alone. 

“Do you think they bought the act?” Y/N asked. 

“When I kissed you down your throat? They definitely did, honey,” Azriel replied. 

Y/N laughed. “Back with the pet names? Perhaps I have my best friend back after all.”

Azriel smiled before it fell away. Best friend. What they just did was not what best friends do. But like Y/N said— it was just an act. 

 “Would you mind letting me down?” Y/N asked. 

“Oh,” Azriel said. “Of course.”

Y/N’s legs unwrapped from Azriel’s hips and he helped her to the floor. Her hands lingered for a brief moment but Azriel thought they imagined it. 

“Well we have our information now,” Y/N said. “Looks like there was nothing nefarious going on. Just someone not doing their job properly.”

“I don’t understand why the king didn’t write to Rhys,” Azriel said. “He would and helped.”

“Yes but a king admitting his fortune was stolen can cause a dent in his ego,” Y/N replied. “Looks like we are not needed here anymore.”

“Seems like it,” Azriel replied, a sense of disappointment washing over him at the fact that the fake rings on their fingers would be taken off the moment they returned home. 

“We paid for the room in the city for another two nights,” Y/N said. “It would be a shame if the money would go to waste. We could perhaps stay a little longer. Make a small holiday out of it.”

“But we need to report this to Rhys,” Azriel said. 

The disappointment was apparent on Y/N’s face. “You’re right. We should just pack and get back home.”

As she turned to walk down the hall, Azriel took her arm. “Or maybe we can stay for the extra two nights. We haven’t had a chance to look around yet.”

Y/N’s face lit up. “Are you being serious?”

Azriel smiled. He couldn’t help it, her joy was infectious. “Deadly.”

***

It was late at night and Azriel laid in his bed looking at the ceiling. Y/N was sitting by the fireplace reading a book. The room they had book was the last one available at the inn. And with only one bed it was even more of a predicament. 

For the two nights they had been here already, Y/N had slept in the armchair by the fire. Azriel had offered but he simply couldn’t get comfortable with his wings. Guiltily, he had taken the bed. And even then, the bed was simply too small. 

Azriel sat up and looked at Y/N. Her hair was simply tied back and hung down her back and her face was devoid of the gold makeup she had worn earlier in the day. She was wearing simple sleepwear and slippers on her feet. Even if she was beautiful back at the ballroom, she was even more beautiful now. 

Since they had returned to the inn, Azriel couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss in the hall. If they hadn’t been interrupted, what would have happened? Would he have told Y/N that he was her mate? Would he have confessed his love for her? Azriel wasn’t sure but he was sure that Y/N had enjoyed what had happened. 

He didn’t mention it to her but he could smell her arousal the whole time when they retired to the inn. The scent had gotten fainter as the night progressed but it still lingered in the air. 

Y/N turned the page as Azriel stood up from the bed. “I’m taking a walk.”

“Avoiding me again,” Y/N said. 

“What?” Azriel asked. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N said. “I was only joking.”

The comment might have been a joke to Y/N but to Azriel it wasn’t. He was avoiding her. And he was avoiding his own feelings. Perhaps he should come clean. But there was that possibility that she would reject him. Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to survive that. 

“Az, you were going for a—“

“I love you,” Azriel confessed and felt a large weight lift from his shoulders. 

Y/N laughed a little. “You don’t need to pretend right now. No one is here to see.”

“I’m not pretending, Y/N,” Azriel said. “I love you. I am in love with you.”

Y/N frowned and Azriel dreaded her response. This was the moment she rejected him. 

“Are you being serious, Az?” Y/N asked

“I am,” Azriel said. “I have been in love with you since the moment I met you, Y/N. That kiss earlier. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Feeling you pressed so close to me. Feeling your lips against mine. Hearing you moan my name. It is the only thing that has been on my mind since we left the palace. I don’t think I can keep my feelings a secret anymore.”

“Az,” Y/N began and Azrie prepared himself for the worst. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it either,” Y/N admitted. “I’ve been sitting here reading for over an hour and I have managed about three pages. I cannot concentrate on anything that isn’t you.”

Azriel held onto that small bit of hope within him. “Why do you keep thinking about it?”

Y/N sighed, though it sounded happy. “I can’t stop thinking about it because I have been hoping to kiss you for many years now.”

“What?”

Y/N giggled and it was music to Azriel’s ears. “Your feelings are not one sided, Azriel.”

“Please say what you mean, Y/N. I need to hear it,” Azriel said, his voice breathless. 

“I love you, Az,” Y/N admitted. “I just never thought you returned those feelings because I believed you to be in love with Mor.”

Azriel let out a sigh of relief. “I stopped loving Mor centuries ago. In fact ever since you walked into my life I haven’t even thought about Mor at all. You are constantly on my mind, Y/N. You have a home in my mind and I can never rid myself of you even if I wanted to.”

“Why did you never tell me?” Y/N asked, standing from the settee and walking over to Azriel. “Why have you been avoiding me this past year?” Y/N gently caressed his cheek. 

“I never thought you were in love with me, I didn’t want to force my feelings upon you if you didn’t feel the same. I would rather be friends than lose you completely,” Azriel said. 

“But that doesn’t explain why you avoided me.” 

Azriel leaned into Y/N’s touch. Placing his hand over the one that resided on his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. “Feel it, Y/N. Allow yourself to feel it. Open yourself up to it.”

Y/N closed her eyes and it wasn’t long before Azriel felt a warmth flood his body. Y/N’s eyes snapped open, shock resided within them. 

“You’re my mate?” Y/N said. 

“Yes I am,” Azriel said. “The reason why I avoided you was because the bond snapped for me a year ago. I never thought I had a mate. I’ve been alive for centuries and I’d given up hope. But when it snapped for you, I was overwhelmed by it. At first I was happy but I didn’t think you returned my feelings so that is why I began to avoid you. I was always overwhelmed by you. Your scent. Your laugh. Your touch. I would have never been able to control myself. I never wanted to force my feelings upon you if you didn’t return them and I didn’t want you to only develop them because of the bond. If your ever loved me, I only wanted you to fall for me naturally.”

Y/N’s eyes softened. “And I did.” 

Azriel smiled. “And I am glad you did.”

“Az,” Y/N said. “Please just kiss me. I need to feel you again.”

Azriel took no time and pressed his lips against hers. It started out gentle but soon the hunger and the pull of the bond changed it into something different. Something feral. 

Y/N backed Azriel up to the bed and as he sat, she straddled his hips, pressing her core against him. Azriel groaned into her mouth. 

“Perhaps,” Y/N said, panting, “we should invite that male to join us.”

Azriel growled and flipped their positions. Y/N now spread out on the bed below him, her hair fanned out on the pillow. 

“You’re mine,” Azriel said, kissing across her jaw. 

“Good, I don’t want to be anyone else’s.”

[clonemando]

Imagine: Fox has Force-given plot armor, basically nothing is able to kill him.

Palpatine tries to lightning him at point blank and it... Just doesn't work. Fox gives him a tired look and finishes his report.

Palpatine tries to chop him with his lightsabers but they just go out as soon as they get close to Fox and Fox sighs deeply and explains that he can't die. That when he was a cadet he saved a aiwha and it turned into some green force goddess chick who blessed him and ever since no one can harm him. He's jumped from the top of Tipoca city, sat at the bottom of Kamino's ocean, left a ship while in space and walked around outside. His brothers have taken to surprise attacking him for the hell of it. Nothing.

Palpatine grins thinking of how great this is having Fox as his servant after all and tries to activate Fox's chip.

Nothing.

Fox sighs again. The Republic is corrupt and even with basic immortality Fox can't just fix it so he just does his job. He's not going to be controlled or whatever. He'll see Palpatine with the usual report tomorrow.

From then on it's just Fox tiredly going about his day while Palpatine tries more and more creative different ways to try to kill him or make him obey him.

Palpatine completely blows off Anakin because he's so obsessed with Fox and Anakin gets all pissy over it and starts trying to kill Fox too.

Thorn and the rest of the Guard find it hilarious and encourage it even joining in sometimes.

Fox: *sitting in the middle of the flaming cafeteria sipping a cup of caff* This is fine.

[mochinomnoms]

jade tries to get his pearl PTM to join mountain lovers club, and tries to appear all suave and cool but instead floyd ruins it

"i found these beautiful mushrooms in the forest, would you like to join me, i'll need a hand collecting them for my terrarium"

"yeah maybe after jade will put you in a terrarium, shrimpy"

to get revenge jade helps riddle hide from floyd and these antics continue, until riddle and yuu are found at the same time drinking tea in the heartslaybul garden and the twins make a truce instead of ruining it more

Jade and Floyd do love each other dearly, they're brothers after all, twins at that! And family is the most important thing!

However they also fucking hate each other in a way that only two close siblings could. They can also plan each other's murders in a way that isn't concerning because they are siblings.

But murder is illegal, being annoying isn't though! A skill that both are excellent at.

So Jade is happy to tip Riddle of everytime Floyd is on his way. Though he's not his keeper, he knows his brother like no one else, and almost has a sixth sense of where he is.

“Hey Jade, where's my Goldfishie?” Floyd had a pout as he looked around the classroom. He'd just seen Bluebottle walk out, so he knew that Jade was meeting with him and Shrimpy for his potions project.

“Oh, Riddle left already.” Jade was peacefully cleaning up his notes, tucking loose papers into his folder and closing his notebook. “He was in quite a rush when I mentioned that you'd planned on stopping by.”

Floyd's head snapped over to his brother, eye twitching at Jade's self satisfying smirk.

“...And why'd ya do that?”

Jade cleaned up the rest of the table, tucking his items under his arm. As he towards the door, he passed by his brother, leaning in and giving Floyd a rare, evil grin.

“Payback.”

“Oh, fuck you asshole, that's how you wanna play it huh?” Floyd hissed, jabbing a finger into Jade's chest. “Too can play at that.”

And thus, led to just about a week of the twins sabotaging each other's attempts to get closer to their desired mates.

Jade had been overly 'helpful' with Riddle, tipping him off to an incoming Floyd or coming over to 'talk' with his brother, giving Riddle a moment to escape. He'd even gotten Tony involved, though the little sharkmer wasn't privy as to why Jade had asked him to hang out with Floyd more often.

In Floyd's case, he'd taken time out of his day to interrupt any private moments between you and Jade. Floyd was delighted in talking up a storm with you, slipping in little insults at his brother while at it, much to your confusion. In retaliation to getting others involved in their spat, Floyd decided to bring along Wynfred, which got Jade immensely irked.

It's not until the two are walking within the rose maze, searching for both of their mates, that they finally come to an understanding.

“I haven't seen my Goldfishie all week, and it's your fault!”

“I could say the same to you, every time I manage to get a moment's of peace between us, you come and disrupt the entire thing.”

“That's not the same! You still get to see them, I haven't even managed to take a look at his red hair all week! I'm gonna forget what the color looks like Jade! I'm gonna forget unless I see Goldfishie right now!

“Hmph, I hardly doubt that'll happen. Speaking of, where are our mates?” Jade sighed, peaking around the corner to see a dead end. “They said that the two were having tea in the maze, but I can't even hear their voices.”

Floyd paused, taking a moment to go on his toes and peer over the hedged.

“Hmm...I can't tell, Goldfishie has this rose perfume, but everything around here smells like roses.”

Floyd wrinkled his nose before moving to look at the other hedge, as Jade looked down the other pathway, huffing at the unending paths and walls.

“Oh! I see them!” Jade turned back around to see Floyd halfway over the wall, hissing as he dug his palm into a thorn. “Ow! Geez, stupid flowers.”

Hopping off with a 'hup!', Floyd jogged down the path past Jade, a blissful smile on his face.

“I'm coming Goldfishe~” Jade followed after, snorting at the giggles leaving his brother's mouth.

Jade smiled, despite himself. It was always nice to see his twin happy. He used to make fun of his enamor for Riddle, but after you came around, he's begun to understand why Floyd was the way he was around Riddle.

Floyd stopped, peeking over the corner with a grin, which promptly disappeared. Jade furrowed his brows, speeding over to sneak a look at what made Floyd upset, though it really could be anything.

Though, he had to give Floyd credit, he could see why he was upset.

You sat next to Riddle in a small clearing with a table set, drinking tea and chattering. Based on how Riddle was smiling and laughing, Floyd was probably jealous.

“...not fair.”

Jade looked at Floyd and tilted his head. “Hmm?”

“Is not fair, why does Shrimpy get to make him laugh?” Floyd's frown grew as he pouted. “He never wants to laugh with me!”

Looking back at the pair, Jade felt his chest tighten at the scene. You looked so carefree and bright, like the sun shining through the waves. Floyd was right, it was unfair that you two never shared these sides of you with them.

“You're right, it's quite unfair. Why don't we go and try to get those cute reactions ourselves? I'll make sure Riddle doesn't run off, and you'll do the same with my pearl.”

Floyd grinned, giggling as and offered a hand.

“A truce?”

“A truce.”

The two shook on it emerging from their hiding spot and, rather loudly mind you, announcing:

“Oh Goldfishie~/My Pearl!”

If you were to ask the students of Heartslabyul, they'd say that yours and Riddle's screams of terror could be heard from all over the dorm.

[lavenderprose]

Emmrich is a morning person and Rook is only a morning person under duress, which becomes only a minor issue after the gods are finally dead because Rook's ideal wake up time is roughly noon, and Emmrich's up at the asscrack of dawn every day whether he works or not.

It's six thirty AM and Rook's face-down on the bed, titties out and hair splayed across three pillows, and Elgar'nan breathed this last breath less than a week ago. Emmrich gave the various factions of Thedas exactly three days to demand Rook's attention and, on the morning of the fourth day, grabbed Rook with one hand and Manfred with the other and asked the Caretaker if there was an Eluvian that might deposit one anywhere in the area of the Cumberland countryside.

Emmrich apparently maintains a small country house here, for 'Whatever occassion might arise' (demented) and it's modest but pretty. Manfred trampled straight into the rose garden when they got here and hasn't emerged since, but Emmrich claims that's normal for him. Rook personally believes that Manfred, even, is still processing their mutual ordeal, but she's content to let him do it with the caterpillars and the rose petals. Not like a skeleton can be pricked by a thorn.

The moment they arrived, Emmrich sought out the housekeeper and told her that her services would not be required for the coming week, and to stand by on the subject of next week as well.

"Go celebrate the world not ending, Helga!" he'd said, maybe a bit too loud and manic, as he closed what was surely much more than a week's salary into her hand. Knowing Emmrich, there was already a very robust system in place to assure that his housekeeper received her generous salary every week--this was merely some sort of consolation pay for the very difficult task of being given a week of vacation.

Helga was Elven, at least as old as Emmrich and blinked at him like a vaguely surprised cat. She swept her gaze over Rook as well before leaving. She'd been smirking, Rook thought, as the door closed behind her.

Thus, they've been alone in the house, and Rook has been sleeping, staring vaguely into the distance, sleeping, reading from Emmrich's extensive collection, looking at the ceiling while trying to forget the sight of Bellara's blighted eyes, sleeping, bouncing on Emmrich's dick like it's her job, and sleeping sleeping sleeping.

They've been here for two days, more or less 48 hours, and many of those hours were spent in his lap. Fucking him, yes, but also just clinging onto him like an extra limb because right now, she feels like she might disintegrate if he isn't touching her. He reads to her. Smiles and laughs through so many stories from his life. She thinks about Solas disappearing into the Fade, maybe never to be seen again. The last God of her people.

When she goes too quiet, sometimes he tells her a joke or puts a little chocolate in her mouth. Once, he ate her out while humming the Nevarran national anthem and she laughed as she came. Sometimes he joins her in melancholy and they lay together and cope. Sometimes she cries, mostly from exhaustion and relief and grief, and he kisses her face. Sometimes he cries. From exhaustion and relief and grief, probably. She tucks her head under his chin and rubs her small hand up and down his broad back, and then she swipes the snot and tears out of his mustache with her very own thumb because she loves him, she loves him.

This morning, she flutters her eyes open and enjoys the texture of the silk sheets against her bare body (Last night, and for lack of a better term, Emmrich fucked her to sleep--apparently, when the world isn't in active peril, he's very into the whole tantric thing. Hours of crazy hot, dragging sex that destroys braincells, but only the ones she's better off not having.) and she does that for about thirty seconds before she realizes it's just barely light outside, blue and cool. Then she starts wondering why the fuck she's awake right now.

The answer becomes apparent immediately: Emmrich is in the ensuite bath, running water and making the weirdest, loudest noises. She thinks at first that he's managed to gag himself with his own toothbrush, but then he sneezes, blows his nose with a honking noise like a malfunctioning horn, and clears his throat so thunderously that Rook thinks he must somehow be drowning.

She rolls out of bed and wobbles into the bathroom, birthday suit and all, because clearly he's become sick in the night and it's now up to her to guide him back to bed and care for him. She's surprised, then, to find him looking hale and healthy in front of the sink. He's wearing nothing but silk pajama pants and down slippers. He's making an absurd clicking sound and swirling a finger inside his ear.

"Are you okay?" Rook demands, propped on the doorjamb.

Emmrich jumps a foot on the air, winces as he jabs his own eardrum, and says, "Ow! Darling, please don't sneak up on--"

"You are being so loud," she says, because the polite section of her brain hasn't woken up. "Are you choking? Are you sick?"

"No," Emmrich says slowly. "I just--oh, the door must have fallen open. The floor isn't terribly even here. I'm sorry, darling--sound does carry in this old house." He twirls a finger behind his ear and clinks again. "I fear I suffer seasonal allergies, dearest, and it's been a long while since I slept more than a night or two outside of the Necropolis or the Fade. There's quite a bit of...mucus..." He clears his throat.

"Gross," says Rook, and then, "It's dawn, Emmrich."

"Mm-hm." Emmrich is now leaning across the counter, two inches from the mirror and examining his mustache like a jewel appraiser.

"Why are you making heinous old man noises at dawn?"

His eyes veer towards her reflection in the mirror, and they make eye contact in the glass. Very neatly, and with a raised eyebrow, he says, "Heinous old man noises."

Rook starts making hawking, gutteral noises in the back of her throat. It's a pretty faithful imitation.

"Dearest," he yells over the sound. "I apologize for waking you--"

"I cannot believe," says Rook, "that I'm going to spend the rest of my life being woken up at dawn by the hacks and sneezes of a man who wears wing tip shoes."

She's halfway through a half-asleep snicker at the hilarity of her own statement when Emmrich fixes her with a surprised look in his wet eyes and she realizes she's never actually voiced the idea that has become an unspoken certainty in her mind: That he's the love of her life, and her life may not be as short as she was thinking it might be this time last week, and that she wants nothing more than to spend the rest of her ambiguously-numbered mornings waking up to him.

She also realizes the truth of the situation. The baths in the Lighthouse were communal, and one never knew which companion they might encounter during their morning routine. Emmrich is fastidious and spends a great deal of his energy in broadcasting the image of a man who is utterly put together in everything he does. Never a hair out of place or a thread loose. It's a privilege of the highest order to witness him this way. Sleep-mused hair, shadow on his jaw. The bleariness of sleep in his eyes and, yes, even the throat-clearing and nose blowing.

Emmrich clears his throat and whispers, "Forgive me. I've...lived alone. For a very long time."

Rook's eyes water as she croaks, "Not anymore. I don't...want you to."

A smile spreads his face. It is wobbly, boyish, and so so beautiful. The absurdity of the situation finally reaches her--she is very naked and he's only slightly more dressed and there is a perfectly warm, perfectly comfortable bed steps away.

"Come back to bed," Rook says. "Please?"

He does.

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

‘Wrapped’ Around My Finger

“Good evening everyone! I’m your host Ann Romano joined tonight by two of the biggest names in music….please give it up for Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson and Grammy winner Steve Harrington!”

The crowd goes wild.

This is a big deal, two of the biggest names in history with a giant rivalry.

Everyone knew the story. They grew up in a small town together and were on different levels of popularity ultimately ruining what could’ve been a fantastic friendship. Even now ten years since high school they can’t get over it. They hate each other always trying to one up each other.

Eddie trying to make a point that even the freaks can become famous. Stating, “I didn’t need money like Steve Harrington to win a Grammy I have my talent to thank for that.”

The two walk out onto the stage and sit on the couch making sure to leave some distance between them.

“Thank you both for coming out tonight! I know it’s a big trip from LA to New York. It probably helps that you live here huh Steve?”

“Actually I moved to LA.”

Eddie turns to look at him shocked.

“You moved? When did you move? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would it have mattered? It’s not like we see each other anyway. You can barely look at me and you’re sitting two inches from me.”

Eddie huffs in his seat and turns towards Ann, trying to remember what little of his media training he had.

“I only care because I’m a good neighborly fellow of course.”

Ann laughs flicks her hand at him.

“Oh you guys are just too funny. I knew you secretly cared for each other which brings me to my next segment, a game I like to call, “Wrapped Up!” You see gentleman, both of your agents gave me access to your Spotify wrapped and now we’re gonna let the audience in as well!”

The two turn white.

“Is that necessary?” Eddie asks through gritted teeth.

“Why not?” Steve adds in. “I have nothing to hide.” He narrows his eyes at Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes at him.

Ann laughs nervously. “Fantastic! Let’s jump to it!”

She gestures behind her where a giant screen shows Steve’s wrapped.

“Alight fellas, Eddie gets three points for every artist he guesses on the first try. He gets three tries, one point if he gets the artist by the third try.”

“Easy.” Eddie smirks.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You always were easy.”

“Alright guys let’s focus on the game here!” Ann jumps in.

“Alright number 5….Wham.”

*a bell rings*

“Fantastic start Eddie!”

“What’d I say, easy,” he smirks.

“4. Tears for Fears.”

“3. ABBA.”

“2. Queen.”

“1. Toto.”

*incorrect buzzer sound*

“Ok…Madonna.”

*incorrect*

“Alright Eddie this is your last chance. You’ve done fantastic so far so I think you’re going to win no matter what. Sorry Steve.” Ann says.

“Hey none taken. I definitely didn’t even think he’d do this well.” Steve smirks at him.

“Alright big boy hold onto your pants. I got this.”

Eddie takes a deep inhale.

“Brittney Spears!”

*louder more incorrect buzzer*

“Ugh!”

“Sorry Eddie! But I don’t think even you could’ve guessed this one. Are you ready folks let’s see what it is-”

The crowd goes wild.

Steve’s smirks goes crazy.

Eddie is pale.

Up on the screen in big obnoxious letters is “CORRODED COFFIN”

“That’s right folks! Since Eddie did so well let’s let him play a similar game for Steve’s top songs. Are you ready Eddie!”

Eddie is not breathing.

“Um-”

“Great let’s start!”

“5….Girls just wanna have fun?”

*DING*

“4.Dancing Queen”

*incorrect buzzer*

“Material Girl”

*incorrect buzzer*

Eddie sighs.

“Crown of Thorns.”

*DING*

“That’s right Eddie! Your very own song Crown of Thorns was his number 4? Wanna take a guess at the rest?”

Eddie grits his teeth. “I’m not sure I have a choice.”

“Haha of course you don’t! Now! Number three!”

“3. Heavy is the Head.”

“2. Reign.”

“1….”

He looks nervous.

“Kneel Before the King.”

*DING*

“You got them! Fantastic work Eddie! Were you surprised that four of his five were songs written by you? How could you possibly guess them?”

“At first I was surprised…you know we have this rivalry thing going on but…I’ve been watching Steve since I was fourteen. I know him well. As soon as I saw his top artist I knew his top songs would be the ones I wrote about him.”

The crowd gasps.

“Don’t get me wrong I wrote a lot more about him but these in particular…”

“They’re about forbidden love.” Steve chimes in. His eyes are watering.

“Yeah.”

“That’s why they were my favorite.”

Eddie gives him a sad smile.

“You wrote them about me?”

Eddies smile turns into a frown. “About you, for you, it was always for you, all of them.”

“All of them?”

“Everything. My entire discography. Every performance. Every press tour. Every photo shoot. You just had to worm your way into my life Harrington…my heart.” He whispers that last part but they’re so close together Steve can hear it.

Well barely hear it…his heartbeat is so loud in his ears.

“Anyways Ann what’s next.”

Ann is staring at him in open mouthed shock.

“Wow. This so perfect.” She turns to Steve. “Ready for your turn?”

“Nah.” Eddie says. “Skip to my number one artist.”

Behind them a video starts playing on the screen.

“Hey it’s Steve! Thanks so much for being my number one fan! I mean top .01 percent is a tough spot to get! It means so much to me that I’m your number one artist-”

Steve can’t take his eyes off of Eddie, when could he ever?

“I’m your number one artist?” he asks so softly Eddie can barely hear it.

“Of course…I like the sound of your voice.” He shrugs his shoulder like it’s no big deal.

“Can we talk? I mean after the show?”

Eddie smiles at him.

“Of course Stevie, I’d like that.”

“I would also like to know!” Ann cuts in.

They forgot this was being streamed to millions of people and filmed in front of a live studio audience.

—————

Later Backstage:

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE MY NEW NEIGHBOR HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS!!!????”

“Honestly Eddie I don’t know. For someone who claims to be obsessed with me-”

“I didn’t-“”

“Obsessed.” Steve puts a finger to Eddie’s lips to shut him up. “You didn’t notice I’d moved in next door.”

“Hell just move in with me.”

“…alright.”

[drabblesandimagines]

Nettle Soup

Halsin x female reader 5,776 words of fluffy nonsense

--

It had started as an innocent tickle at the very back of your throat, something you’d barely given more than a moment’s thought to - fair enough due to the fact you had a tadpole squirming around in your skull to contend with. A day or so later, it had graduated from a tickle to an annoying and stubborn irritation which very much demanded attention – wouldn’t shift despite how many times you’d tried.

It would clear, surely, you thought, especially since the curse had lifted from the land and you were on your way towards Baldur’s Gate at last.

Except it didn’t.

If anything, it got worse - like you’d swallowed handfuls of crushed glass, the way it stung with every swallow – accompanied by heavy limbs and growing fatigue, no matter how much sleep you managed. Perhaps that was hardly surprising after the number of fights you’d undertaken recently, not quite as young as you once were. 

Although not comfortable with the hitchhiker in your skull, you were at least confident it wasn’t the first sign of ceremorphosis, though the concern that Lae’zel may try to slit your throat if you voiced any notion of feeling unwell remained, so you kept silent.

You powered on, as you always do.

Gale frowned when you didn’t finish your portion of stew that evening, all sat around the campfire. He prided himself on keeping the party well-fed and anything but clean bowls appeared to be a personal affront to his skill. It wasn’t that you felt nauseous, just a lack of appetite made the quarter you had managed sit too heavy in your stomach.

“Was it not to your liking?” The wizard hovers over your shoulder. “While I’ll admit it is a repeated recipe from a few days ago, you enjoyed it well enough then.”

“No, no, it’s wonderful, Gale.” You smile, trying to appease his anxieties by laying a hand on your stomach. “It’s just filling – I’m stuffed already.”

“I recall you had second helpings.”

Oh, he had you there. Think.

“We had just fought Ketheric Thorn too, quite a difference from the day’s leisurely pace.”

“Hm.” His pout remains, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach has been joined by guilt.

“Hardly a repeated recipe, though. I’m sure I noted something different on the palate?”

That did the trick, a wistful smile now gracing his face. “Ah, yes, I did stumble upon some splendid wild garlic that I thought would enhance the flavour profile – how kind of you to notice.”

You nod along, politely, as Gale tells his tale – something about how it elevates the spices - not noticing the wood elf staring at you curiously from across the circle.

You’re thankful it’s not your turn to keep watch as the githyanki takes her place in the centre of the camp, sword laying ready in her lap. You don’t wish to dawdle around the campfire like you do most nights, worried she might sense something off about you and jump to conclusions, so you bid the remaining members of the party goodnight and walk at a brisk pace to the safety of your tent…

..only for an icy cold grip around your elbow to jerk you into their own, your back now pressed against a firm chest with a thud.

“Surprised, darling?” Astarion murmurs into your crown, his other arm wrapped around your waist. “I thought you better than that. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Bed.” You reply as brightly as possible, overcompensating for how rotten you’re now feeling.

“Oh, but the evening is still so young! I have a fine idea that will while away the hours, if you would be so very kind.” He drops his grip on your elbow and ghosts his hand up your side, making you squirm.

“Not tonight, Astarion.” You shake your head. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him feed off you after that first night. “I’m tired.”

“I can wait until you’re asleep, my sweet.” His hand finally reaches the back of your neck, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’ll be sure not to disturb any of your pretty dreams.”

“No.” Your tone is firm, maybe a little too firm as the vampire stiffens against you and drops his hand, causing your stomach to squirm with guilt once again. “Another night, I’m all yours – I promise.”

Astarion spins you around and you nearly lose your footing – a fact not missed by the vampire as his face transforms from annoyance at your denial to mild concern.

“My, you are out of sorts.” He sighs, before he plasters on a smile that you know to be fake. “Very well, darling. Off to bed you pop.”

You nod a thanks and hurry out of his tent, casting your eyes to the ground in the hopes of keeping steadier footing, only to collide into something firm.

A large, solid chest, covered in familiar druidic garb.

“My sincere apologies,” two warm hands grasp your upper arms, steadying you once again. “I am afraid I did not see you there. Are you all right?”

Your scalp tingles from the gravelly tones of Halsin’s voice, a warmth flushing over your cheeks as you look up at the former archdruid, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m fine, Halsin. And I should be the one apologizing - I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

He chuckles at your concern. “Of course. Although you have remained polite by not yet mentioning my stature, I am sure you have noticed the comparison between us, little one.”

Although one to lose your temper with the use of such pet names in inns or in combat, there is something entirely different when Halsin says it. You know it is not meant to be patronizing, more a sign of his age, really – it’s wholeheartedly sincere, affectionate, perhaps even… loving? Well, you could still dream, couldn’t you? Even though he’d kindly turned you down at the celebration for the tieflings at camp all those weeks ago, you’d be a liar if you didn’t still kindle a flame of affection for the large elf. You smile, wryly. “I suppose I have.”

“Forgive me for prying, but is anything the matter? You seemed in quite the hurry after supper. I confess I’d hoped to catch you for a moment.”

Your throat stings again as you swallow. Halsin is a healer - he would be the one to mention it to…

But you don’t want to be a bother, especially so soon after Thaniel. What was a sore throat in comparison to being trapped within the Shadowrealm for near on a century? Pathetic, really.

You shrug it off, “A little tired, nothing an early night won’t sort. What did you wish to speak about?”

He smiles at your response, though you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. You wish you weren’t so observant of him to be able to identify which are real and which are polite.

“Ah, no, nothing of urgency. Please, do not let me keep you from your well-deserved rest any longer.”

You eye your tent in the distance, but hesitate all the same. “Are you sure?”

“Quite.” He squeezes your upper arms, gently, before letting go. “I bid you sweet dreams and a peaceful sleep.”

--

You don’t even fall asleep deeply enough to dream – tossing and turning for hours, one moment feeling too hot and then another too cold, periodically drinking from your waterskin trying to ease the rawness of your throat.

You give up at dawn, quickly dressing in your armor. Instead of waiting for your companions to rise, you set your sight on climbing the hill not far off from camp - it should provide a good vista of the road ahead to Baldur’s Gate. It shouldn’t be a long walk either, you’ll be there and back before even Karlach has roused, usually the last to do so.

You had only made it a quarter of the way up the admittedly gentle incline when you start to feel unusually winded from the exercise – it feels as if you are not quite breathing deep enough, oxygen stagnating at the top of your lungs. Perhaps you’d laced your armour too tight that morning in your haste to get moving? The sun is still only a little over the horizon, given the earliness of the hour, but you feel so very warm, a sheen of sweat already on your brow.

You raise a weary hand to wipe it away, but your vision swims in response and you stumble, all reflexes abandoning you and your face meets the dirt.

--

Halsin lets out a sigh as he rubs his back against the bark in his bear form, the ridges appeasing an itch that had been bothering him since he had wildshaped. It has been a while since he’d indulged the bear for purely pleasure and not combat – it hadn’t felt right to do so when traveling through the shadow cursed lands.

He’d woken early, as usual, and decided to take advantage of an hour or so to patrol the area before the plan would be to head towards Baldur’s Gate. Heading to the city wasn’t something he was looking forward to – to be cut off from the nature he so adored made he feel uneasy - but he’d made a vow that he intended to keep.

A familiar, invigorating smell crosses his snout, carried in the gentle breeze. He inhales it deeply, being drawn him from his thoughts.

White violet, jasmine, a touch of sandalwood…

You.

It is too strong a scent to have drifted in from camp, which must mean you’re close by. He drops down to all four paws and begins to follow the trail, curious as to what has brought you out so early and, perhaps selfishly, hoping to take advantage of your company.

He doesn’t have to travel far, though, lumbering a hundred or so metres out of the wood that lines the path. His stomach sinks when he sees you sprawled out on your front down the incline, unmoving, eyes open in a blank stare in his direction.

The next thing you were aware of was thundering paws on the earth, a flash of gold and then warm, heavy palms turning you over to face the dawn sky. A very concerned wood elf soon fills your vision, pressing a hand to your cheek as his eyes scan you over, frantically.

“What is it, my heart? Speak to me.” Heart…? The world goes black.

--

You wake up slowly. Your eyelids feel heavy, drifting in and out of consciousness until, finally, you manage to crack both eyes open to find yourself swaddled in unfamiliar furs and blinking up at an equally unfamiliar ceiling.

No, not ceiling, but the inside of a tent and one that is not your own. Various herbs and flowers are hung from the support pole across the top, seemingly set out to dry, dotted between other hand-made trinkets. There’s a scent of wood smoke, flowers, freshly cut grass, and something enticingly sweet...

You sit up in alarm, trying to work out where you are, panic rising in your already tight chest when your eyes meet those of the large wood elf’s, sat only a little way to the side of the bed roll.

“Ah-ah,” Halsin chides with a sympathetic smile, pushing you back down easily with one large palm upon your shoulder. “Please - you must rest.”

“This isn’t my tent.” Your voice is painfully hoarse, but you lay your head back on the pillow in defeat and watch as he tugs the furs back up to under your chin - the brief moment you had been upright a chill had prickled across your skin, almost down to your very bones.

“That is true.” The former archdruid nods, looking a little bashful. “We were camped at quite opposite ends this time round.” Your party did tend to spread the tents out across the ground you used, rather than all cluster together. “I thought it best to bring you here, where I have everything to hand to easily prepare, rather than go to and fro whilst I oversee your recovery.”

“Recov-” You don’t reach the end of the word as a horrendous, wracking cough emerges deep within your chest. You sit up again in panic, hoping it will cease. Halsin assists you with one hand on your arm and an arm around your waist, before he begins to rub large circles on your upper back.

“Easy, little one. Easy. I know it is uncomfortable, but it will pass.” He says, softly. It doesn’t feel like it will – the pain is sharp, a tightness in your chest, a burn in your lungs, heart pounding as you feel more and more breathless with every cough.

Tears burn at your eyes but, true to his word, slowly but surely, it begins to settle, allowing you to catch your breath at last and left feeling exhausted.

The hand leaves your arm then but one remains on your back, keeping you steady, before a waterskin is brought up to your lips. “Take small sips. If you drink too quickly, it might trigger another fit.”

You nod, reaching up a hand to hold over his as he tips the liquid into your mouth. It’s soothing on your raw throat, but only for a brief moment. When he deems you’ve had enough, he pulls the waterskin away, placing it back down to the side of the bedroll before pressing a hand to your forehead, a poorly concealed frown soon gracing his lips.

“You have a fairly high fever.”

“Can’t you…?” You reach out to mimic cure wounds – a spell you’ve seen him and Shadowheart cast many a time - but it seems even your depth perception has abandoned you as you brush up against the wood elf's firm chest, before snatching your hand back and circling your wrist in what you think looks a somewhat magical motion. Halsin lets out a chuckle that makes you feel flush – your temperature varying sporadically by the minute.

“Wounds and other injuries indeed, as can Shadowheart, but I am afraid for such illnesses as this the only treatment is rest for a few days, supplemented by herbal remedies to alleviate symptoms.”

“No,” you shake your head and immediately regret how it makes your vision and head swim. “We must press on - the Absolute are already in the city.”

He looks at you in alarm. “You cannot mean you wish to go and face them? You know I admire your unwavering resolve and strength to do what is right, but at the moment I fear a light breeze would be more than enough to knock you prone.”

“But-”

“No. I cannot allow it.” His tone is firm, a growl at the back of his throat – it reminds you of how he had spoken to Kagha once he’d returned to the grove. "You will rest. Lie down,” he doesn’t even need to push you back this time with a heavy hand, you’ve gone quite limp against the arm that had been supporting you, shrinking back at his tone of voice and nestle back down amongst the furs.

 “Thank you.” Halsin replies, sincerely, the tension dropping both from his shoulders and voice. “I… I apologise for my manner of speaking, but I know of what I speak - you must rest in order to make a full recovery.”

“I’ll try – I promise.”

He looks down at you with a smile before brushing some loose hair from your face and then cupping your cheek with a large palm and calloused fingers. If you’d had more of your wits about you, if you could think clearly, you would’ve noticed the flash of gold in his palm as he cast sleep upon you.

--

You wake up to a hand pressing a damp cold compress against your forehead and your chest feeling tighter than before. You can’t help the wince as you open your eyes, the light smarting despite it being somewhat dim inside the tent. Halsin is sat cross-legged by your side, a frown in place.

“I am sorry to have woken you, but I am afraid your fever has developed.”

“Oh.”

“I have prepared something that will help. Allow me to sit you up.” Somehow, he manages to slip his arm beneath your head and around your shoulders, assisting you upright to lean back against a pile of firm pillows. Once he is satisfied you are settled, he produces a bowl from his side – a waft of steam emitting off the top.

“Here. It has cooled enough to drink.”

“What is it?” Your voice is still awfully hoarse, a raw sting as you talk.

“A staple in every healer’s repertoire - nettle soup. Adept at reducing fevers.”

You take the bowl carefully from his hand, though his follows closely as you guide it up to your mouth lest your grip fail.

You gulp down a mouthful, but it’s absolutely foul upon your tongue, burns your throat as you swallow it down. It feels as if you’ve taken a gulp out of a particularly filthy pond, one thick with algae.

You hold the bowl back out with a shake of your head, hoping he’ll take it. “That’s disgusting.”

Halsin smiles, knowingly – seemingly a complaint he is not all that unfamiliar with hearing. “Whilst I admit the taste is far from what one might call pleasant, it will do you a world of good to drink it.”

You shake your head again, trying to hand it back to him. “I can’t.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Dare I enquire your age again, little one? The children in the grove manage it just fine.”

“I’m not a child,” you pout – too feverish to realise the contradiction of your actions. “And they surely do not.”

“They do…”, he retorts, a wistful smile crosses his lips, “albeit with the promise of something sweet after they’ve rested. Would that suffice?”

“Something… sweet?” Your mind drifts off to somewhere it should not as your eyes drop down to focus on the druid’s mouth.

“Mm. They are quite partial to honeycakes, does that appeal?”

You shake your head, placing the bowl down on the floor between the two of you. Though a fan of sweets, the idea of eating anything at the moment doesn’t entice at all.

“No? Well, perhaps you have something else in mind. I’m sure Baldur’s Gate itself will have something to your tastes.”

“I want a kiss.” You mumble.

He must have misheard. “What was that?”

“A kiss - that’s the sweet thing I want.”

“Ah,” if it wasn’t for the dim light within the tent, you would’ve sworn the druid was blushing. “Now, that’ll be the fever speaking.”

“No.” You gaze up at him, wishing you had the strength to curl your fingers in his hair and pull him in for the kiss you crave. “It’s not. I’ve wanted one since that night at camp, the celebration with the tieflings. I swear I’ll drink all the nettle soup in Faerun for a kiss.” “Since…” He trails off. “No, I couldn’t, little one.” He shakes his head, truly looking apologetic. “I won’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Why?”

He cups your cheek in a large palm, a small smile on his lips. “I do not believe you are quite aware of what you are requesting, given your current ailment.”

You purse your lips in thought, trying to seek a compromise. “What about when I’m better, then?”

He removes his hand and nods. “When you are recovered and if you recall this conversation and still desire it, then… yes, you may claim your sweet.” He mumbles towards the end, not quite believing what he was apparently promising. “However, you will still need to drink the nettle soup now.”

“Deal.” You acquiesce, and Halsin picks up the bowl in offering.

It burns as it goes down – all four or five remaining mouthfuls - but you manage the whole bowl.

“Good girl,” the wood elf murmurs with a smile – it makes the discomfort feel worth it for a moment - as he inspects the empty bowl, swapping it out for the waterskin once again.  

“Now, try and sleep some more. By the time you wake, it will have done its work and you’ll be feeling much better.”

You lie back down without protest, closing your eyes. The furs smell like Halsin and you soon drift off back to sleep, a feverish thought of being wrapped up in his arms and the kiss you hoped to claim come morning.

--

Day turns into night and then day once more, the hours passed with numerous bowls of nettle soup that still burn at your throat with every swallow, vegetable broth for more sustenance and countless naps to no improvement. Halsin has been trying to distract himself with whittling, but it is not proving successful – lopping off half of the duck’s beak when you stir momentarily. He’s checked your temperature with the back of his hand too many times to count. There’s a taunting rattle from your lungs between bouts of sharp coughing fits that doesn’t seem to be easing either. The nettle soup should’ve broken your fever at least – he hadn’t encountered one in all his years that it had failed to do so – but you seem to be growing worse by the hour.

He watches as you toss and turn, brushing your hair from your face. You’ve done so much for him – freed him from the goblins, ensured the safety of the Grove and its occupants, defended him whilst he recovered Thaniel, freed a realm from the shadowcurse of beyond a century and yet he cannot return a simple favour by ridding you of a fever?

“Is she sick?”

“Thaniel.” Halsin’s starts at the sudden appearance of the spirit. The boy is knelt besides him, staring down curiously at your slumbering form. “What are you doing here, my friend?”

“Your party hasn’t moved on - I wondered why. Is she sick?”

Thaniel remained as curious as ever, it seemed.

Halsin sighs. “Yes, I am afraid so. The fever and cough proves most stubborn – I fear I am depleting this area’s supply of nettles.”

“Nettles?”

“For the soup – it reduces the fever. Or it should.”

Thaniel frowns, leaning over you and taking a cautious sniff. “But she smells of spolar.”

“Spolar?” The word seems vaguely familiar, though it sparks a sinking, sickening feeling in his stomach.

“It will have been a long time since you’ve had to treat it.” The boy shrugs. “A large purple mushroom, remember? Its spores line the lungs – its growth accelerates if surrounded by nettles.”

“No…” It’s as if a hand is squeezing at his heart. “I don’t recall seeing any on our travels out. It would grow so quickly?”

“Nettles are sturdy enough even for the shadowcurse, so when it was lifted it had probably laid dormant beneath the soil until the time came. How long have you been treating her?”

“Nearly two moons – numerous bowls of nettle soup.” Halsin’s face has drained of all colour. “By Silvanus, I’ll have been nourishing the infection itself.”

“You did not mean to,” Thaniel replied, patting Halsin on his thigh. “Do not fret. Vapours from a wilted Sussur Bloom will clear the lungs when inhaled, suspending any further spread. Then she will just need rest.”

“A wilted…” He gets to his feet, his mind whirring with the next steps. “I must make haste back to the Underdark – I could be there and back by night fall with the aid of sigil circles.”

He hurries out of his tent, finding Gale sat outside of his, camped a stone’s throw away, and a large tome in his lap.

“Halsin,” Gale starts cautiously, setting down his book at the wood elf's urgency. “Is something the matter?”

“Everything.” The druid drops to his knees and empties out his pack – planning to stuff it full of as much Sussur Bloom as he can lay his hands upon. “I made her worse. She’s inhaled the spore of the spolar.”

“The spore of what? And how could you have made her worse?” Gale quirks an eyebrow, trying to keep up. He has never seen the wood elf so flustered. “I don’t understand.”

“Spolar… the spores line the airways. It feeds and thrives upon other vegetation – I’ve been giving her nettle soup. She told me it burnt and I insisted she eat more. And she did, because she trusted me.”

“Oh. Well, you didn’t know-”

“I should’ve known!” Halsin explodes in response, his voice echoing around their encampment. “I need to go to the Underdark, I-” He gets up to his feet and immediately stumbles, catching himself before he could fall. Gale is quick to stand in front of him, hands held up to try in a feeble attempt to stop the wood elf leaving.

“Halsin, when is the last time you rested?”

“It matters not-”

“It very much does.” Gale chides. “Look at you – you are in no fit state to look after yourself, let alone gallivant off to the Underdark.”

“What the hells is going on?” Astarion appears the other side of Gale, drawn out by Halsin’s outburst.  

“I must set this right. I cannot allow her to suffer a moment longer due to my negligence-“

“Okay, I’m sensing there’s a lot more to your feelings here, but allow me to assure you that we all care about her. Allow us to assist you, to aid you in whatever you need in this moment.”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Astarion almost stomps his foot, never one to be ignored.

Halsin sighs, running a large palm down his face. Gale is right – he is exhausted, unable to enter a state of reverie in the past days in fear of you needing him.

“A Sussur Bloom. I need to retrieve one from the Underdark.”

Gale frowns. “But they don’t work outside the Underdark.“

“Wilted ones, they-"

“Wilted, you say?” Astarion looks at his fingernails for imaginary dirt. “I’ve got a handful in my pack still, I’m sure.”

Halsin sets off running in the direction of the vampire’s tent and his pack, Astarion hot on his heels.

“Now, wait a moment!”

--

Halsin won’t look at you.

You’d woken up, confusingly, back in your own tent two days later to Gale sat by your side and your fever broken. Your voice was still a little hoarse and walking around the camp left you all but winded, but that was meant to pass in another day or two, then the plan was to finally set off towards Baldur’s Gate.

You’d felt bad for holding the party up for so long, but everyone has been rather kind about the delay, doting on you a little more than you’d like.

All but Halsin, really, who stares over your head – not a hard feat given his height, true – but still, it smarts when you cannot catch his eye, especially when it was something you used to achieve so easily. He appears to leave the campsite before dawn and returns for supper, though he moves away from the campfire when you take your place, thanking Gale for the meal before hurrying off.

It’s driving you mad.

Tonight, though, you have a plan. You took supper back to your tent, feigning the need for an early night to your companions and lying in wait for Halsin to depart the camp once more.

You find the elf stood at the very edge of the lake, standing in the shallow waters as it laps to and fro, hands held behind his back.

You approach cautiously, conscious of disturbing a meditation or ritual the ex-archdruid might be partaking in, but it seems he is already acutely aware of your presence.

“There’s a chill in the air tonight.” His voice is firm – you can imagine him using the same tone when he was chairing heated discussions amongst the other druids back at the Emerald Grove. “You should go back to camp and keep warm by the fire at least if you find yourself restless.”

“Halsin,” you choose to ignore him as you wring your hands together and take another step closer. “Have I… offended you in some way?”

“Offended? Never.” Still, he keeps his head turned away from you.

“I apologise sincerely if I said something that upset you whilst I was sick. I’m afraid I don’t recall much of the time in your tent – it’s all a bit of a haze.”

“That’s understandable. You were…” His breath hitches, as if it’s painful to remember. “..quite unwell. But, no, you did not say anything malicious or cruel – it is not in your nature.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

His biceps tense as he brings his arms back in front of him, his shoulders heaving up with a breath before dropping back down as he swings round on his heels. He meets your eyes for a second or two before his gaze moves back above your head, as if something was extremely interesting in the distance.

“There.” A forced smile – it doesn’t reach the wood elf’s eyes by a mile. “Now, will you go back to the camp?”

“No.” You huff, taking a step closer.

“Please. Your lungs are not fully recovered yet and the chill tonight will do you no favours.”

“I’m not going back until you look me in the eyes and tell me what I’ve done to be treated this way.” You stand firm, stubborn.

He sighs, seemingly exasperated at the conversation. “You have not done anything, my h… friend.”

“I must have done something.”

“You are mistaken.”

 “No, I’m not.” You retort back, placing your hands on your hips. “Ever since you healed me, you’ve been-”

“Healed you?” He scoffs, derisively, meeting your eyes at last with a furrowed brow. “Healed you? I did no such thing - I made you worse!”

You stare for a moment, bemused. “What? Worse how?”

“You said the nettle soup was burning your throat, you told me multiple times and I dismissed you saying it for not liking the taste, not of a symptom. Every time I had you drink it, I was giving the infection what it needed to thrive. I was killing you.”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t remember that.” And you don’t, everything’s hazy – vague memories of cooling compresses on your head, a supportive arm around your waist as you drank from a waterskin. “Why would I keep drinking it if it hurt?”

“Because,” he takes a shuddering breath, “we made a deal.”

“A deal about what?”

“I beg of you not to make me relive my shame.” Halsin sounds defeated, but you continue to push.

“A deal about what?”

“I… I told you of how the children in the Grove took their medicine under the promise they would receive something sweet when they were better. Honeycakes, candied fruits, the like. You…” His voice grows tight. “You asked for something else sweet.”

You feel your face flush, a hazy, whisp of a memory now becoming crystal clear. “A kiss.”

The wood elf’s shoulders shudder. “I took advantage of your trust in me.”

“Advantage?”

“Of your feverish state.”

“I’m the one who suggested the kiss.”

“And I’m the one who agreed due to my own selfish desires, ignoring what my patient was trying to tell me.”

“No, you thought you were doing the right thing. We all make mistakes, or misinterpret. I’m fine.” You wrap your hand around his forearm as best as you can, trying to tug him forward. “Besides the whole tadpole in my head, of course…”

He smiles, wryly, at your poor joke, though you see tears burn at his eyes. “I just… I cannot stand the thought that I have caused you harm, little one – intentional or otherwise.”

“You haven’t, Halsin.” You place your other hand tentatively on his chest and look up, feeling his heart beat beneath your fingertips. “I am well and, if you were still willing, I’m ready for my sweet.”

He shakes his head. “As much as my heart desires it – and it does - I do not deserve it.”

“Am I not allowed to be the judge of that? And I say a deal is a deal.”

“You… truly wish for it still?”

You stand up on your very tip toes and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, as far as you can reach. “More than ever.”

A firm arm wraps delicately around your waist – cautious of squeezing you too firmly – and heaves you up easily against his firm chest, his other hand cupping your cheek as he captures your lips in a kiss. It is soft and delicate, as if he’s worried you’ll break, but when you lift your hand to tangle in his locks and tug to bring him closer and deepening the kiss, there is no mistaking the growl that emits from his throat when your tongues intertwine.

As soon as you drop your hand from his hair, he retreats too, dropping you back down carefully to the ground, eyes scanning you in concern.

“You’re breathless, my heart.” You feel your cheeks prickle with heat at the term of endearment. “And flush too. Please, I insist you go back and keep warm-"

You cut him off, pressing your fingers against his lips, exhaling breathily. “Two things. One, I’m breathless because of your kiss. Two, I’m flush because of your words - what sort of reaction am I meant to have to you calling me that?”

He lifts his own hand then to hold yours in place so he can kiss the fingertips pressed against his lips, before tugging your hand back down and interlacing your fingers.

“My heart, my love, my sun, my moon, my stars - so many things I wish to call you whilst I lavish you with affection from dusk till dawn, and dawn till dusk… if you’d allow me, that is.”

“Allow?” You smile, “I encourage – heartily.”

It happens too fast to comprehend, a gentle twist of your arm to twirl you in front of him before one arm wraps around the back of your knees and you are swept off your feet, the wood elf commencing large strides back towards the camp.

“Then I insist we return to your tent where you will have as many sweets as you desire.”

“Oh, my tent now, is it?” You tease. “I thought I had to go and stay warm by the fire.”

 “Yes, but, lucky for you,” he smirks, “I am known to run quite hot.”

--

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[reidsbraces]

⠀ roses n thorns ⠀⠀﹒⠀　a.h x reader

this work includes / may include : rossi!reader, age gap (8 years), reader was born in 1979, aaron was born in 1971, reader is heavily italian, reader works at the bau, angst, rude!aaron because hes a sucker and doesnt know how to come to terms that he likes Y/N, fluff at the end, canon typical violence, fem!afab reader, reader is literally a ball of sunshine, religion mentions.

summary : when Y/N Rossi joins the bau at the recommendation of her father; aaron hotchner cant possibly see past the fact that she is far too happy to be in this field.

wc: 11.2k

The first thing aaron hotchner notices about Y/N is the smile plastered on her face and the box of canolis’ in her hands as she greets her new coworkers; he stares from his office window, arms crossed over his chest.

When the girl makes a b-line for his office a heavy grumble leaves his chest, he expects her to barge right in, but instead; she knocks and waits there patiently, holding the box of canolis’ in her hands.

He answers the door and she looks up to meet his gaze, that same sickly sweet smile plastered on her face, it makes his stomach turn and his chest feels like thousands of thorns are encircling it; he had only ever felt this way about Haley, and that was when he was in private school.

“Ah! SSA Hotchner right? my father said you’re the boss of this place.. he also told me that you like his canoli recipe.. so i uh, prepared a box of them last night” She smiles, and he can recognise that heavy twinge of italian in her voice, much like he can her fathers.

“Yes. That’s me, and you’re Y/N Rossi, correct?” He grumbles, and she notices how uncomfortable he looks, her brain flooding with thoughts before she stops herself; she’s not even been in the building an hour and she’s already accidentally profiled her new boss.

“Yes sir, that’s me.. where should i place these?” She squeaks, almost nervously, the confidence she once carried herself with dissipating into nothing, the smile also dropping from her face, in exchange for a nervous bite of her lip.

“The break room fridge, agent. it’s down the mezzanine to the left.” His arms still crossed over his chest, his eyes scanning the woman in front of him; watching as she walks away.

“Thankyou sir, i’ll be on my way now, goodbye” She mutters, and he could wear he heard her voice crack as she left.

He starts to feel bad, but he can’t place his finger on why, but when you leave, the thorns in his chest slowly unwind themself, and he’s at ease once more.

In the roundtable room, you take your seat inbetween your father and your newfound friend Emily Prentiss, you engage in friendly chatter as everyone filters in; and eventually the brightly and beautifully dressed tech analyst, Penelope takes the remote, clicking it to show the photos of 4 men, all without their eyes and a cross carved into their left thighs.

“These men were found in alleyways all over arkansas last week; the local PD didn’t think much of it until they got.. this letter” She pauses before a note on worn lined paper flashes up, an intricate rose stamped onto it.

You speak up, gesturing to the crosses on the men’s thighs; your father looking at you approvingly; “Those aren’t christian crosses.. they’re upside down those are petrine crosses, more recently dubbed the saint peters cross, it’s possible the killer believes he’s not high enough next to god to carve a christian cross; as peter crucified himself upside down because he believed he wasn’t as worthy as jesus..”

Hotch only stares as Spencer nods at youe statement, chiming in “Y/N is correct; he may believe that these killings are for god, and that they’re messages.”

And then penelope shows something else on screen; “Well.. it gets so much worse, my religious geniuses, because their eyes were found near them with bronze chains next to them..”

Hotch finally pipes up, asking the table for input and he rolls his eyes when you pipe up again.

“That’s similar to Jeremiah 39:7.. Zedekiah watched his sons be put to death and then his eyes were put out where he was bound with bronze chains and he was dragged to babylon..” You wince at the cold eyes of hotch as you look at Emily; she only shrugs her shoulders.

When you and Emily arrive at the latest crime scene of the victim, you lift the tape; stepping under it and holding it for your partner, you greet the local detective at the scene.

“Hello i’m Agent Y/N Rossi, and this is Agent Emily prentiss..” you smile, though it’s not as bright as the ones you extended to your coworkers, afterall you’re at the resting place of a victim.

“Detective Peter Warner, Fayetteville PD.” The slightly shorter man speaks as he shakes your hand.

“Do you know anything about who found the body, and when? we weren’t briefed on that..” Emily asks, and you nod, crouching down at one of the evidence cards, shifting one of the bronze chains, your eyes widening.

“Emily! cmere look, theres.. theres a- oh holy fuck!!” You jump when you realise what you had touched was a slab of skin, specifically with a rose tattoo on it.

“What?! oh what the.. is that the victims skin??” She crouches next to you, picking up the dirt and pebble covered flesh in her hands.

“Yeah- it it’s.. wait a second; let me call up the office real quick..” You mutter, stepping back to make a call as emily requests an ice bag.

“This is SSA Derek morgan, what’s poppin’ sweetcheeks?” His voice rings out, and you roll your eyes softly.

“Ha-ha Derek.. anyway, do you know if any slices of flesh where found at the crime scene.. or if any of the victims had rose tattoos?” You ask, looking back as Emily holds up the bag with the flesh in, you grimace.

“Uhh.. yeah; they all had rose tattoos.. why’d ya ask?” Derek chimes over the phone, you can hear the chatter of the department over the phone.

“Well me and Emily just found a piece of flesh from the victim, with a rose tattoo on it.. i believe this might mean something to the unsub, maybe something religious again.. we’ll be back at the station soon” You walk back over to Emily, sighing softly as you get back into the SUV.

Back at the station you lean over the files, biting your lip softly; staring at the tattoos of the victims, all cut off with a razor blade.

“Hey, papa can you come over here for a second?” You call out to your father, and it feels like recently everywhere your father goes that pertains to you and the case, Hotch follows.

“Which bible verse was about roses and brides.. was it Song of Solomon 2:1-2?” You mutter softly, tapping the end of your pen on your lip.

“Why yes Picolla Mia; it does.. the bride replies-”

“I am the rose of Sharon and lily of the valley..” You cut him off, immediately dialling up Penleope; your brows knitted together tightly as you exhale.

“Office of Unfettered Omniscience. Penelope Garcia is in. Speak, oh fortunate one.” Penelope Answers, and a small giggle escapes your mouth.

“Hiya penny it’s Y/N.. can you search the names of the wives of all four men for me?” You speak, hearing her hum in approval.

“Sunshine, I can run marriage certificates from here and still participate in simultaneous Tetris tournaments.” She hums, you snicker again.

“Okay.. are any of them named Sharon and Lily?” You ask, and Garcia gasps.

“Oh my god what a freaky coincidence.. yes- All of them are named Sharon and lily..” She sounds scared, and you look at the brooding figure of your boss behind you.

“and where they married for number’s with 1 & 2 in them?” Your voice quavers softly, writing it down quickly in your cursive handwriting.

“yes.. victim one- Hector Mariposa was married to Sharon Mariposa for 21 years.. victim two- Nikita Ivan was married to Lily Ivan for 12 years.. victim three- vitores fausto was married to Sharon Lily Fausto for 1 and 2 months at his time of death. and victim four- Abram Katz, to his wife Lily for 12 years..” She sounds like shes going to puke.

After 6 more gruellingly tension, religious and gore filled days you finally caught the unsub, Brian Vitores; a schizophrenic tattoo artist and ordained officiant.

He would tattoo the men he killed, and them weasel his way into the lives, and he had in turn ended up officiating their weddings, because he was close to them; at first it was a coincidence they all had rose tattoos and wives named Sharon and Lily, and their dates contained the numbers 1 and 2.

But when his religious psychosis began, he believed he should kill them for god, because only god would bless them with such wives.

On the plane back home, you slumped into your seat, staring at the roof as you hear Hotch over the other side of the plane, you frown softly as he seems so free and happy with the others.

You stand and pour yourself a glass of red wine, sitting back in your seat as you sip on it, starting to read your book with your headphones in.

And before you knew it, you had landed; you pick up your bags, but not before Hotch stops you, you look up at him, not with the same smile you once had during your first encounter.

“Agent Y/N, we need to talk about your workplace condcut. you cannot be laughing during such a serious moment, especially not in the middle of the station.” He says to you, and you feel tears well in your eyes, you dab them away subtly.

“Yes sir, I apologise.” You speak solomnly, and you push past him, walking to your car in the parking lot, quickly sliding into the seat, turning it on and beginning the drive home.

In your head you can’t tell yourself why your boss seems to dislike you so much, you can feel your phone buzzing in the cup holder, it’s JJ.

“Hiya JJ- i’m on my way home, what’s wrong?” You sigh, pulling up into the driveway of your home, locking your car as you sit and talk to JJ.

“We were going to invite you out for drinks, me and rest of the team but we couldn’t find you anywhere.. are you okay?” She asks, her voice concerned and confused.

“Y-yeah.. i just, had a bad encounter with Hotch on the plain, he uhm. doesn’t seem to like me all too much.” You whimper, tears smudging your mascara down your face.

“Yeah.. me, em and spence noticed that, i’m not sure what he’s doing at all.. i’m so sorry girl..” She say’s empathetically.

“I don’t know either, but he got quite angry that i laughed at how penelope answers her phone so i just left without a word..”

At your fathers house, it’s a pasta night and everyone from the BAU is gathered in the kitchen, you however already know how to cook this meal, and so you’re upstairs getting ready for the night.

You walk down the stairs, adorned in your designer attire, your hair curled, everyone’s eyes land on you as you pad over to stand next to Penleope.

By the time everyone has finished the pasta and a the glasses of whiskey and wine are flowing, you can only fees his eyes on you, and by his you mean aaron.

Being followed to the bathroom and cornered by him was also not on tonights bingo card but here he is, cornering you in a hallway.

“Listen Y/N you’re driving me crazy and i- i wanted to apologise for how horrible i’ve been toward you..” he mutters, his big hands moving to yours.

“It’s quite alright sir-” You mutter, desperately avoiding the eye contact he’s trying to engage in.

“Please, call me aaron..” He speaks, his voice softer now, he squeezes your hand gently too.

“I haven’t felt this way since i was a dumb teenager in private school.. and by this way i mean that i like you, Y/N Rossi.” He blurts out, and that makes you look at him now.

“I- i’m inclined to say i like you too, aaron.. you’re extremely handsome..” you admit, blush coating your face in a deep red tone.

“If you’ll allow me.. i’d like to take you on a date soon.. possibly wednesday, next week.” Aaron speaks, now holding your waist, his hands bigger than your waist by a long shot.

“Yes- i’d love to go on a date with you, Aaron.. wednesday sounds perfect.” You smile, and then it was set, you figured out why your boss hated you, he didn’t, he was just lovesick and confused.

Authors note: Hello my lovelies, this is my second fanfic in two days.. i’m finally out of writers block; so here’s something for my coworker enemies to lovers fans and my aaron fans :3

[anashins]

Seeds of Pomegranates

Pairing: god!Jaehyun x human!reader

Genre: Hades x Persephone reimagining, dark romance, hate to love, slow burn, smut

Word Count: 29.5k

Warnings: morally grey characters

Summary: The day the god of the underworld steals you away, he expects to have found a timid wife to make his isolated life more bearable. Little does he know that the rose he picked from the garden called earth bears knives instead of thorns, and he might not have found a timid wife, but a queen with a heart as dark as his.

A/N: Hi guys! Months worth of rewriting and editing is finally finished! This story grew very dear to me since this is my first plot based on greek mythology, and I took my sweet time for the world building. Thus, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The day the god of the underworld stole you away from earth, he didn’t only steal your body, but your soul too.

You were watering the flowers in the garden behind your small house before he did it. It was the first day of spring, the sun rays only slowly starting to feel warm and pleasant on the tip of your nose. Your plants were reluctantly awakening after months of hiding under a thick blanket of icy snow, but you were determined to make them flourish and blossom in all colors again. Your mother always said you had a magic touch for making flowers grow even from concrete, and every year you proved to her that she was right.

From the kitchen window that stood ajar, you smelled the delicious stew she was currently cooking with the help of your little sister, prepared from the self harvested vegetables that had survived this long winter. You were already looking forward to lunch - of which you were blissfully unaware you wouldn’t be able to join at that time.

When the watering can was slowly emptying, only droplets still coming out, you arose from your crouching position with the intention to walk over to the well and refill it one last time. Overhearing your sister placing the plates and cutlery on the table, you assumed the stew was finally ready, so you hurried with your steps to finish your labor quickly.

If you had known that the last words you directed at your mother and sister before leaving the house would have been “I’ll be back soon!”, would you have chosen other ones? Perhaps something with a deeper message like “I’ll always love you” or “I’ll be fine”? But you hadn’t known, so they were left with the promise that you’d eventually return from wherever you vanished to that day.

Even though you didn’t know yourself whether you would ever be able to see them again.

Lowering the bucket into the well, it never came to reach the water’s surface. Suddenly, it felt like the entire world came crashing down on you. Deafening noise replaced the birds’ singing and chirping that had accompanied you until now. You panicked and raised your head, looking over to the house where you wanted to make sure that nothing was happening to your family as the soil beneath your feed started to shake too.

Gathering your skirts around your hips, you prepared yourself to sprint, but as you were about to set one foot aside, there was nothing to support your body anymore in front of you. The ground under you was split, entirely gone, and only darkness gaping at you from beneath. You let out a scream and stepped away, rescuing yourself to the other side of the cleft.

Having no idea where this earthquake came from as they were unusual for this part of the world, you only thought about saving your mother and sister. But as you looked over to the house again, it still stood there, solid, steady and seemingly unmoving. And then, it was gone. Not because it fell into a crater like the one that had split in front of you, but because you fell into one that had opened up between your legs, forcing them apart.

Realizing the danger of the situation too late, there was no possibility for you to save yourself anymore as you fell right into the gap, into darkness, with a long lasting scream.

So, this was how you died, you thought.

____

You had dreamed of your mother and your little sister. Only the three of you, sitting at the lunch table, eating the delicious stew the two had prepared upon your return from the garden. You were chattering and laughing together as always, as though nothing had changed. But it wasn’t real, only a dream in which you wanted to linger a bit longer.

Silent tears had streamed down your closed eyes that were now dried around the rims and which you still refused to open. The surface on which you were lying felt a little too comfortable, almost like a soft mattress. A thick blanket was pulled over your body as well so that you didn’t freeze. You were able to move your fingers, feeling every breather your chest drew as though reminding you that you were very much still alive and not dead like you had assumed. 

Eventually, you had to force your lids open. Dim light coming from lit candles immersed the dark room in which you were situated in a soothing atmosphere. Though the term “room” was an understated description for the place in which you found yourself. The closet-like space back at home which you shared with your sister could be called a room, but this was way bigger than your entire house, including the garden, and way more. This was an entire suite.

You braced yourself against what truly turned out to be a soft mattress on a huge bed that was thrice the size of your own, the posts towering you on each edge and connecting over your head in a net of purple velvet. The bed was made of black marble glistening in the flickering candlelight coming from the golden chandeliers, and only then you noticed that the entire room was forged from this luxurious, dark material. 

To your right, you spotted two high pointed windows that reached to the vaulted ceiling with interlaced arches, but the view was hidden by curtains made of the same purple velvet that was hanging over your bed. The suite was decorated with long, golden mirrors and stucco of the same color, and to your left, you found a long closet stretching across the entire wall as well as a dressing table.

Before you could inspect the place further, a knock on the door made you gasp out loud and slide to the far end of the bed. You were at a loss about what had happened to you, where you currently were, why you were here. Had you, inexplicably, survived the earthquake and been rescued by someone?

You nearly didn’t dare look when the doors opened and in walked a girl, most likely a bit younger than you, dressed all in black with a golden tray in her hands. She was very pale, but the color of her skin stood in contrast to her dark hair and garments of the same color, the smile around her lips inviting, kind, and genuine. 

“Good morning, mistress, you’re already awake!” she chirped in a cheerful voice.

It was morning already? For how long have you slept? “Good morning,” you croaked, startled by your own, hoarse voice. “Where am I?”

“At my master’s palace.” She put the tray on top of the mattress, right next to you. There, you spotted a bowl filled with what appeared as porridge. “I came to bring you breakfast, mistress. After that, I’ll help you bathe and get dressed.”

“What for?” You furrowed. If anything, you wanted to leave right away to return home. “And please, I’m not a mistress.”

“To meet my master, he’s already waiting,” was the girl’s simple answer. “And as a guest of this household, you’re formally our mistress.”

At that moment, it made sense to you. Of course you would need to express your gratitude to the person who saved you from the earthquake, it was only polite. Then, you could return home, so you gave a nod to confirm your agreement despite being addressed as a mistress still not sitting right with you. You would act along for today.

“What’s your name?” you asked the girl as she put the tray on your lap, taking the spoon into your hand and dipping it into the porridge.

For a guest suite so big, the breakfast was very simple, plain even, you silently remarked. The oats were made with water, not milk, so the flavor wasn’t very rich as they also hadn’t been seasoned with sugar or cinnamon. But again, you didn’t want to be ungrateful and enjoyed what was offered to you.

“It’s Ara, mistress.”

The title sounded so bizarre to your ears. You were a simple girl from a small village, not someone who usually resided at such a place. 

“Ara, I would love to meet your master and express my gratitude. Take me to him.”

“Very well, mistress.”

____

After taking a bath in a room that wasn’t less luxurious as the one in which you had slept, with a tub made of the same dark marble that reminded you of onyx, Ara dressed you in a tame, but beautiful long-sleeved dress made of pastel pink silk that flowed down your body and fitted perfectly. During the process, you noted that you hadn’t caught any bruises or scratches from the fall, and you nearly started to question your sanity if falling into that crate had even happened at all. Miraculously, you had survived unscathed.

With cautious steps, you followed Ara along the dark corridor lit up by candles, the dark yet lavish theme of the place also present here. It didn’t take you long to find out that this wasn’t a mansion, but an entire palace you had only read about in books. For someone who had grown up in a small, rundown house, it couldn’t quite fit in your imagination how big a palace like this one must be as you rounded corners and passed by more corridors with walls you had to bend your neck to see them end. There were no windows open, all blacked out by the velvet curtains despite it being morning apparently, light coming only from the elaborate candelabras. 

You wondered how far from home you had been found as you had never encountered someone passing by a palace like this close to you, so fascinating yet intimidating. Surely, news must have broken out like wildfire already since village people devoured gossip like no one else, especially when it was about something as lavish as the owner of this palace. You were eager to find out and request an escort home. 

Ara eventually stopped in front of a heavy door after you had nearly clumsily flown down a stairwell. On your way to here, you hadn’t encountered a single other person. It was quite a huge residence for someone to call it a home to themselves only. You didn’t know what to make of this odd place.

“My master awaits you.”

As the door opened, you found yourself standing in front of a purple carpet that led into a grand hall. The carpet shaped a long aisle with swaths of the same colors on the walls, interrupted by golden candelabras. The windows, spaced every few feet, were taller than most homes you had seen, and the high ceilings as well as arches were just as extravagantly forged. 

And there, on a dais at the end of the aisle, raised a pompous throne, tapering at the top in spikes and forming sword-like adornments that were divided by a skull in the very middle of it.

On the throne itself was seated a tall figure. 

The master. 

“Please come in,” he called out to you.

Even though you were still at the other side of the hall, you heard him clearly, a voice so low, it could haunt your dreams, but also so melodic, it could lure you to listen to its owner for an eternity as well. The latter was what drew you closer as the door magically shut behind you without physical force. 

He was possibly the most beautiful man you had ever seen, and even this didn’t do a description justice, you thought to yourself as you stood in front of the dais after a long, silent walk toward it, eyeing the master hopefully, almost imperceptibly. In your small village, you had encountered many beautiful people on their journey across the lands, but even the most handsome ones didn’t come close to the man opposite of you.

Other-worldly, on the other hand, was spot on to describe his appearance. His hair was blacker than a crow’s feather, falling elegantly into his forehead and nape, his skin fairer than winter snow, and his dark eyes clearer than morning dew. He was everything you knew and way more than that, nearly impossible to fathom in human words.

His right leg hung loosely over the throne’s armrest, his elbow propped against the left one as though he was bored, but you didn’t miss the attention and slight wariness in his gaze. He was donned in a black jacket and black trousers with gold embellishments that ended in boots of the same shade. The attire rustled when he settled in a proper seating position and leaned forward as though to examine you. Only then you noticed the black crown that ended in spikes sitting on top of his head and nearly meshing seamlessly with his dark hair.

Having almost forgotten your manners, you quickly gathered your composure, suppressing your reverence for his appearance, and did a curtsey. “I apologize for having let you wait for so long… master. I wanted to express my gratitude for the rescue and for giving me shelter in your home.” You caught him raising a brow when you looked back up to him. 

He slowly repeated two words, “Rescue? Shelter?”

You were just as perplexed, but explained your situation calmly, suspecting there might have been a miscommunication from your side, “For having saved me after I fell into the crater during the earthquake. I am deeply indebted to you and will do anything in my power as a peasant to repay what you have done for me. But first, and I want to apologize beforehand for being so bold, I ask to return home and make sure that my mother and sister are well.”

“I haven’t rescued you.” Smoothly, he set both his feet on the dais’ surface and leaned back again as though more relaxed now, “It was me who tore the earth apart to get you.”

A shudder ran down your spine and you took a step back. Surely, you must have misheard. “W-what do you mean by that? I don’t understand.”

He rose from his throne, now standing even taller and higher above you, and you grew more intimidated than you already were, bracing yourself to flee as an eerie feeling settled in your stomach. 

“This is the underworld, my kingdom.” Pause. “And you’re going to be my wife.”

____

You were running as fast as your feet were able to carry you. Somewhere along the way, you had lost your slippers, but you didn’t mind your bare soles touching the ground in passing as long as you could find an exit. But there was none. With the long skirts flowing between your legs and your hair getting lifted up by each movement, you ran along the apparent endless corridors, but every door you opened led you into another, empty room, regardless of the floor and part of the palace you ended up in. 

There was no exit, there was only darkness.

Exhausted and having to support yourself against the cold wall, you gasped for air, your lungs hurting as you had been trying to escape for too long already. From the window, a soft breeze found its way in, but you didn’t dare to pull the curtains aside, scared of what you would find behind them.

He was the god of the underworld, he had said.

You had heard many people in your village and visitors talking about these deities, worshiping them even, despite no one having met one once. Except for… you vaguely remembered an elderly woman journeying through the country once and passing by your house as well. She wanted to spread the news that she had been abducted by the god of the sea when she was younger, but your mother only closed the door in front of her face. Now you wondered whether she had been right all along as you just couldn’t wake up from this nightmare.

With a start, when you were able to stand on your own feet without feeling on the brink of fainting from exhaustion again, you pried apart the curtains and were surprisingly delighted to meet with light.

But this feeling evaporated very quickly as you gazed into the distance. The landscape was the greatest contrast to your home country that shone with green fields, towering trees, scentful flowers and golden crops. What dominated the scenery here were rolling plains, mostly treeless with the exception of a few clustered pines. Beneath the sky, everything was tinged in a reddish hue, varying from light orange to crimson. Your field of vision was constrained by a gray mountain range so high, the sharp tops ending in red clouds that were so thick and heavy that no light of any sort was coming through. What caused the red lightning though, you couldn’t see.

When you lowered your head, you discovered you were currently on one of the top floors of this dark palace that was built in a foreign, but impressive way. It was a complex, rich system of forts, bastions and towers with sharp tops that sparkled in the reflection of the red lighting and melded with the clouds of the same shade. The building ended several dozen meters below you on a bridge that crossed a vibrant sapphire blue river.

So there was a way out of this palace. 

“This is my kingdom and as my wife, it will become yours too.”

You flinched upon hearing his voice, not daring to turn around to him. You hadn’t even heard him approaching, when he had caught up to you. If he was the god of the underworld, what kind of power did he possess? You weren’t sure whether you ever wanted to find out.

“This will never become my home.” When you finally faced him, you were sure passion and resistance flickered in your eyes almost as intensely as the sky behind you. Fear was not a term familiar to you now as you cared more about your remaining family. “And I will never become your wife. I demand my freedom right now!”

He sighed as though he was the one in the right to get annoyed. “I fear I might not be able to do that.”

“You brought me here without my consent, you tore me away from my family, you robbed me off my life,” you spat, “and you’re expecting that I’m going to stay?”

“Even gods cannot defy godly rules.” He stepped closer to the window, but this time, you didn’t withdraw, indicating that he didn’t have such an effect on you. When he stood next to you, tall and mighty, his presence radiating a threatening aura, you still didn’t waver in your position, the growing resentment replacing apprehension. “When a human comes to the underworld, they cannot return on their own.”

“Am I-?!” You gasped.

He only snickered dryly as he looked out of the window. “You’re very far from being dead. You’re still very much alive.” 

“Then I can go back,” you whispered more to yourself, this enlightenment getting your hopes up. You would find a way, with or without his permission. 

He might be a god, but he didn’t own you. He might have stolen you from your home, but he hadn’t taken control of your mind, or your body. You were still you, and you would use all of your remaining strength, mentally and physically, to reunite with your family on earth.

The god shifted his head as though catching your silent mantras, looking down at you with an expression almost so unreadable, it seemed on the verge of indifference even. “There is a way. But do you really think I will let you go after I did everything in my power and beyond that just to get you?”

Stretching out his hand, he grabbed your chin, and despite all the twisting and turning that you did, you weren’t able to wind yourself out of his grip. You bared your teeth, hissing under your breath, “I’m not a possession you can decide over. If you won’t let me go, I will do it myself!”

He jerked you towards him with his grip and you let out a squeal that sounded far more worrisome than you had wanted to let slip. But as he had you in control with only his fingers, you couldn’t defy the terrified feeling anymore that settled deep in your bones. It showed all in your eyes when he locked gazes with you, his look the total opposite of yours, stern and determined.

Bringing his lips to your ear, the god whispered, “Try, and we’ll see what happens.”

When his breath hit your skin, you shuddered. But not in a fearful, dreading way as his grip didn’t hurt at all. Goosebumps formed on the spot around your ear, running down to your shoulder and all along your arm, betraying your own body in what you should actually feel right now.

He let you go with a slight smile, observing you from head to toe as though he was able to read your body language. Then, he turned around and left, disappearing into the darkness of the corridor. 

Rage took over this slight moment of irritation when he was gone, making you kick candelabras out of your way, tearing curtains apart and screaming at the underworld that the opened windows revealed: death, isolation and endless darkness. 

And then, despair replaced fury and you broke down crying by the window, calling after your mother and sister.

____

“Mistress, you need to eat something.”

Ara placed a bowl of the same, plain oatmeal next to you on the bed that you, for the third day in a row, refused to eat. You had lost all your appetite, spending day and night in what had been assigned to be your bedroom, sleeping and weeping. Though day and night didn’t differ much from each other down here as you had figured. The days consisted of threatening red sky, the nights of dangerous darkness.

“You also have to change your clothes, mistress. I selected a few from the closet.”

“Why won’t he let me go home?” you whispered, turning to the window side away from her and watching the red sky fade into the black one as one single tear slowly rolled down your cheek. “Why do I need to stay here?”

“Once you’re here, it’s not so easy to go home, mistress. Almost impossible even.”

“Then why did he bring me here in the first place?” Your voice was hoarse from all the crying the days before, hair greasy and sticking to your skin, eyes puffy and swollen. “I’ve always tried so hard to be a good girl again. Do I still deserve this? Is this my very own punishment?”

“I don’t know what you mean, mistress, but it’s odd,” Ara stated nearly absent-mindedly, “the way you humans think. There are humans who would do anything to get into the godly realms, demanding entry into a harem or only bearing the child of one. You’re the first I encounter who doesn’t want all this.” 

“What do those humans expect from this?” 

“Endless satisfaction, glory and youth, mistress. In the godly realms, you cannot age.”

You chuckled bitterly. “Of course.” 

“Doesn’t this sound alluring to you too?” Ara wanted to know with genuine curiosity. “My master would be willing to offer you anything you want.”

“Absolutely not,” you instantly refused. “Having all your beloved ones die one after another until you’re all alone… for eternity? I wouldn’t be able to live like that, possessing all that richness but not what’s most important to me. The only thing I want is my family, nothing else.”

Ara fell into silence. “I don’t have a family, so I cannot relate. It’s nice to meet someone who adores their family though and doesn’t want to unalive them like most gods.” 

“I’m sorry.” You turned back around to her. “What happened to your family?”

“Nothing.” She was smiling again. “I’m an ordinary sprite with no powers, I don’t know where I originate from. That’s what we all are here… powerless in our nature, so we end up in a serving position. But I’m not sad about it. I have a purpose for eternity, it’s better than wandering around with no direction.”

You watched Ara spreading out the dresses on the huge bed. They were all in your favorite pastel colors, the color of the flowers that bloomed in your mother’s garden, the material so luxurious and soft upon touching the hem with your finger tips, you were sure you would have never been able to afford even one dress under normal circumstances.

If this was Ara’s only purpose in life, who were you to refuse her offer? A simple favor for someone who had been taking care of you, nothing more. Perhaps, changing your clothes after three days wasn’t a bad idea either. You sat up and inspected each dress in detail while asking, 

“You said humans demand entry to the godly realms, Ara. Where are they? The people in the harem here, for example.”

Given the possibility of staying young and wandering around in these rich clothes forever, living a lush lifestyle, you could very well imagine that other humans would do anything to be in your position now. But you weren’t one of those, you didn’t care about luxury, goods and money.

“My master doesn’t have a harem, mistress, nor do other mortals live here in his palace. It’s only us, other houseworkers and servants.”

“Oh. I was expecting…” You didn’t know what you had expected, but you weren’t surprised either. The darkness in this kingdom wasn’t very inviting to live in until eternity after all. 

“How about this dress, mistress?” Ara held up a light blue gown made of silk with long, almost translucent sleeves and cut-out in the back. You had never worn something as daring but also as beautiful as this. “I will bathe you and do your hair the way you prefer.”

“What would I need it for?” Only now you noticed that your stomach was growling. Although plain oats didn’t smell deliciously tempting, your body was telling you that you desperately needed to be fed. You already saw yourself giving in to your needs and devouring the oatmeal.

“To meet with my master,” Ara replied as though a given, and you froze.

“No!” you protested, causing her to flinch at your loud erupt. “Tell him I’m not going to meet up with him nor do I ever want to see him again! Even if I die here, I don’t ever want to see him again. I will find a way out myself and I will escape from this place. This, you can tell him.”

“My master assumed that you’d react this way, so he wants you to know that if you meet up with him tonight, he will tell you how your family is doing.”

Your stomach hollowed and not only from hunger as dread filled the empty space and your fingers gripped the sheets, tensely. You suddenly felt so sick at the thought of what he could do to your family out there if he really was so powerful. Would it now always be like this? That he would threaten and you had to comply for the sake of your beloved ones’ safety?

“Fine.”

In the bathroom, where Ara gently scrubbed your skin with oil that smelled of meadows, massaged your scalp in calming rhythms and washed your hair with white foam, you broke out in tears again, but she didn’t say a word and let you cry in silence. At home, bathing was a luxury you were only able to enjoy once a week in a small wooden basin.

Your homesickness came in waves, especially in the evenings when you missed the warm body of your little sister pressed into you from behind, the bed way too small for the both of you, but she was always refusing to sleep at your mother’s side on the bigger mattress as she felt too old for that already.

When Ara dried your body and hair, you were still weeping, but her careful yet comfortable treatment made it all a bit more bearable.

____

“Have a seat, little rose.”

The god was seated at the head on the far end of the long table, and although your set of plate and cutlery were placed right next to his, you seated yourself on a chair opposite of him where you were the farthest away. Immediately, a servant came by to relocate the tableware.

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Don’t you like that name?” he asked, arrogantly feigning offense. “I think it matches very well with you. A flower from earth, looking and smelling so beautifully, but bearing sharp thorns that she’s not afraid to use.”

At first, you were confident to interpret his words as an insult, but when you repeated them in your head once more, you weren’t sure whether they leaned more towards a compliment as there was something in his tone that gave the impression, and it irritated you very much.

“Why have you moved away from me?” The god leniently crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back on his chair, no crown adorning his hair this time. “You don’t have to be afraid. If I wanted to hurt you, you would surely not sit here now, invited to dine with me.” 

“Afraid?” You frowned at him and lifted your chin. “I’m not afraid of you. I just don’t want to be near you for your own sake, in case I want to stab you. Though depending on what you have to tell me about my family, I can’t guarantee it won’t still happen.”

Amusement played around the god’s lips in the form of a smug smile, your answer apparently surprising him entirely. “You’re a very interesting one, little rose, I must admit.”

“Is that why I’m here? Because you find me interesting?”

The servant placed a napkin on your lap, causing your mouth to water already. You were dreaming of a feast consisting of meat, potatoes, vegetables and fruits. At home, those things were rarely served together, but you assumed that in a palace as huge as this, it was something you could look forward to for dinner. 

In such a rare moment, you allowed yourself to be greedy. Mutedly begging for apology, you thought that if it stayed in your head only like all the other things you had sinned for, it wouldn’t taint your image anymore. Nobody had to know if you didn’t voice it out or act on it obviously.

“I find many things interesting.” The god snipped his fingers and you flinched. “But boring humans don’t belong to that category.”

“Yet, you stole one of these boring humans away to make her your bride.”

The next moment, another servant opened the door and brought in two bowls, one placed in front of him, the other in front of you. You were trying your best to hide your disappointed expression, but were sure that you failed when you saw what was in the bowl: plain porridge like the past few days and what you had nipped on shortly before. And 

“Others would trade everything they have to be in your place now.”

Your fingers hovered over the cutlery, but you withdrew them again, not wanting to give in yet, despite your stomach making demanding noises that mustn’t have passed by the god himself. Either this was his way of subtly punishing you while you were residing here, but that wouldn’t explain why he didn’t eat something else in front of you. Or this was the only food served in the underworld. Neither assumption satisfied you. 

“I’m not like others. I’m not a boring simpleton. I have responsibilities, a family to take care of. How can I reside here in peace when my family cannot even afford a life without me?”

“Because now they can,” he replied simply.

You tilted her head in confusion. “What?” 

“Let me assure you that your family has been taken care of. The day I brought you here, they were greatly supplied with a chest consisting of pure gold that will last them their lifetime and the generations after them.”

You shuddered visibly, having no intention to pay weight to his words. “That’s not the main reason. How am I supposed to reside in this palace and live carefreely when I cannot be certain my family is healthy and happy every day, when I’m not there to witness how they do without me?” 

“Such a peculiar way of thinking, I have never encountered this before,” he carefully said. “The humans who trade and bargain with us gods just to get the same privileges as you never look back, not even the ones who hadn’t decided on their own to enter the godly realms. When they see what kind of lifestyle awaits them here, they fold instantly. But you aren’t so selfish. You’re right. You’re no ‘such’ mortal. Maybe I shouldn’t have picked a flower with thorns like you, little rose.”

“Then set me free.” You glared at him across the table. “My family doesn’t care about gold or money. We just want to be together.”

He pursed his lips and sighed. “As I said, it’s difficult.”

“I don’t trust you,” you eventually pressed through gritted teeth, resting your fingers on the edge of the bowl, then pushing the porridge away from you. “I don’t believe anything you say.”

He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table in preparation to speak with his attention only on you. “I have no reason to lie to you, but I also won’t force you to trust me. I’m just telling you that I understand if you’re wary, considering the circumstances.” 

“Then tell me why you keep me captured,” you demanded again, suppressing your surprise over his honesty.

“And then you will eat?” You didn’t understand why he even cared in the first place if the porridge wasn’t poisoned, but agreed with a slight nod just to get the reply out of him. “Fine. You’re here, because I need a wife to keep me company. I can offer you everything a female human could ever dream of - a luxurious home with endless space, dresses in all colors under the rainbow, delicious food that doesn’t even grow on earth, and gold to fulfill all your further needs.”

You gulped visibly, but held his gaze. So the porridge truly was punishment only, physically and emotionally.  “That’s… that’s all?”

He shrugged, not touching his bowl either, you noticed. “Truth to be told, I thought it would be easier according to the stories I’ve been told. Other gods own harems full of humans who live lavish lifestyles until all eternity.”

“So I heard,” you retorted, utterly grossed out.

“I also admit that, apparently, I know nothing about humans.” A smile tugged on the corner of his lips that quickly evaporated again. Or had it only been in your imagination? “Certainly not about ones like you.”

You cocked a brow. “Humans like me?”

“Strong-willed, demanding, determined. Either I am very lucky in choosing you as my wife. Or rather unfortunate. We’re going to figure it out, right?”

“Again, I am not going to be your wife.” When he didn’t make a move to add something, you asked, “That’s all? That’s why I’m here? Because you needed a wife and I was just… there?”

Frankly, the god apparently didn’t know what else to tell you, what you wanted to hear from him. Did you know yourself, though? What kind of explanation did you expect to make you understand your current situation better? 

“That’s all.”

With a start, you jumped out of your seat, the chair making squealing noises as you pushed it along the marbled floor. You glared at him so deathly, it would possibly make every other god fear your presence. But he didn’t budge. 

“I’d rather die.”

____

“My master wanted me to bring you here, because he assumed you would feel a bit better in an environment resembling your home.”

A few more days had passed without you having to meet the god again, plain porridge being brought by Ara directly to your room, assuring you that real food was still being withheld from you, but you also didn’t want to ask and cave. You weren’t crying every day anymore, either because there were no tears left or because you knew it was for vain.

You hadn’t entirely given up though. The god and Ara both had implied that there was a way for you to return. Even if it might be almost impossible, almost was not entirely. But if neither of them were going to tell or show you how, you would rather figure it out yourself than sit here in captivity and boredom if either possibility would result in you not seeing your family ever again.

So it was a lucky coincidence that Ara had brought you to the palace’s garden, and you would lie if you said that you weren’t in the least bit impressed about it, because it had everything you had ever dreamed of growing and tending back at home.

You stood there, on green grass with your fine slippers, feeling every soily bump beneath your soles, and what you encountered amazed you very much. Patterned throughout the grass were different paths made of cobblestone, passing by rose bushes, colorful flower beds, perfectly trimmed hedges and marble statues that all came together in the middle of the location where a fountain made of limestone stood out, water splashing all around.

“This is magnificent!” you called out and followed the path that led to the center, the entire colorful and playful setting building a stark contrast to the red sky, but this was what made it insanely beautiful too, you had to admit. “I didn’t know something would be able to grow here!” Since you had been brought to the underworld, there was finally something that remotely awoke interest inside of you and let you push your pain and despair to the back of your head only for a little while.

“Contrary to popular belief, we can also grow fruits and vegetables here. See?”

Ara pointed at a tree that you were passing, red pomegranates hanging from the branches. After weeks of nearly tasteless porridge that was supposed to break your iron will, only the image of the crimson seeds caused your mouth to water immediately. They had been withholding this from you all along? The things you would have done just to taste something different were unimaginable, and you stretched out your hand, reaching for the fruit. You were just so hungry…

“Careful!” Ara warned you.

You reclined your hand, alarmed. “What is it?”

“Seven seeds.” A manly vice from behind you let you jump. “Seven seeds only, and you’ll be stuck here forever. Take one and you won’t be able to stop, because they taste so ungraspable wonderfully on a human tongue. Everything growing in the underworld will bind you to this realm and you will never be able to return to earth ever again.” The god walked towards you both and Ara did a curtsy while you refused to copy her greeting. “Thank you for bringing her here, you’re dismissed, Ara.”

You were petrified when a thought slowly sank in while the servant left you both alone. “But I’ve been eating-”

“Mortal food all along,” the god clarified. Today, he was dressed more casually and wasn’t wearing a crown like the last time you had met, you silently remarked. “That’s why you were served plain oats only. At least they always taste the same. Everything else we bring down here from earth rots right away. They’re living things, not made for death.”

You looked at the pomegranate tree, then back at him. You had been served porridge from your first day on before you even met, and a few days ago, he had been served the same dish as you, hadn’t he? Why? “You could have easily fed me these all along, and I wouldn’t have known. Why haven’t you?”

“I decide over the fates of the dead humans, not the living. I guess I always wanted to give you a choice, no matter how slim this chance might be. Deep inside, I assume I just couldn’t take someone against their will entirely.” His honesty bewildered you. That was not what he had indicated the first time you talked. “Even if you’re a human, you always have a choice. Even now you do.”

“I haven’t been given the choice whether I wanted to come down here,” you spoke monotonously, shaking off the expression he directed at you that nearly bordered sympathy. 

The god lifted his hand and plucked a pomegranate from the tree. Twisting it apart and presenting the red seeds in equal halves to you, your tongue instantly lusted after the taste of the fruit’s delicious flesh. You had only tasted pomegranate seeds once in your life, back then when you had saved enough money to buy a half from a piepowder. But you still remembered that moment very well, because it was so special.

“I was probably too naive as I have never been to the mortal world myself. I could only rely on what the other gods told me, and they all said the same thing.”

“Which was?” You averted your eyes from the pomegranate halves before you went insane from hunger. 

“That humans would do anything to live in the godly realms, leeching off everything they were offered, such as luxury and eternal youth. That humans are simpletons you could control, could do anything with.” He clearly saw you gulping, which was probably why he quickly added, “But I only wanted a wife, so I took my sweet time making a decision that day. A wrong and hasty decision after all, as it turned out that I’m the simpleton here.” He plucked the seeds from the pomegranate halves and placed them into his hand. You counted seven. Then, he squeezed his palm together, red juice dripping from his fingers onto the soil, staining it like blood. “You better make sure not to go near these in case your craving makes you go crazy.”

To weigh yourself in better safety, you turned your face away from him. “How do I get away from here? Tell me.”

The god drew in a sharp breath. “Someone must get you. Someone from earth must come down here and take you back.”

You got a feeling you didn’t want to know the details to that  “And how would they do that?”

To that, he didn’t seem to have a specific answer. “I cannot tell you as I don’t know exactly myself. I heard that there are ways humans can actually summon certain gods, and depending who they are able to reach, they might help if they’re in the mood. The god of the sea demands a human offering for example, but the god of the wind on the other hand just doesn't want his mortal companion to speak a single word all the way to our realms.”

“Why would they do that to humans?” you called out in frustration. “That’s madness!”

“To bargain with a god is a very dangerous game that they love to play all day long. Humans are pawns to them, a mere distraction to their boring lives.” A touch of snideness swung with his explanation that you couldn’t classify yet and thus dismissed.

“And what would you demand to bring humans here if you don’t take them against their will?”

The god rolled his pupils, his patience seemingly still not wearing out while you just wouldn’t let go of this topic when he replied full with regained composure, “Nobody ever did that, it’s quite not possible since my kingdom is separated from the mortal realms. But the gods of the elements or other parts of the earth are always there.”

“So that means… My mother and my sister have to find their own way to come down here. And depending on who they can reach out to, they either face an impossible quest or death?”

“Not very positively worded, but right.” He shrugged. “I guess so. Of course this applies to any human who would search for you, not only to them.”

“And before that happens, I will need to stay here?” 

“That’s correct.”

When you sucked in a rush of air, he braced himself for an outburst, but you only asked with a threatening calmness, “Why me?”

For such a question, the god apparently wasn’t prepared well enough. And even if… you were sure his answer wouldn’t have changed from the following dissatisfying one, “As I said, I was given the chance to wander the earth for a day and choose a wife.”

“That’s not what I meant. I asked ‘Why me?’ What did I do? Why not someone else?”

For the first time, you got the impression that you had taken him off guard as he raised his brows, not to talk back haughtily, but because he was genuinely confused and didn’t know how to answer. “Why… you? I can’t exactly say why you…” 

“So, the fact that I’m here is merely a coincidence?” There was a sharp edge to the way you uttered these words, and you nearly felt sorry. Nearly.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he patiently defended himself in that situation. “It was still my own decision. But the reason…”

“Be quiet! I have never been given a choice!” You laid your palms flat against his chest, pushing him away from you while anger burned beneath your skin like fever. He stumbled backwards although he could fight you easily. But he didn’t. “You have robbed me of that decision the day you stole me away! You have only fed me mortal food to satisfy your own conscience, but I have never been given a choice in the first place! Don’t talk to me like you actually respect humans, because you don’t!”

You saw him startled as if he were human too, a natural, human reaction, and that fueled your anger even more. “But if someone comes to-”

“Nobody will come to get me!” you yelled. “Nobody will come, because my mother and sister aren’t able to! I only have them, no one else! I’ll be stuck here, and all because of you! I have no free will! You have chosen the only human with no choice at all!”

You spun around on your heel and left the garden with him not following suit. And you were glad about it as the first tears started to fall again.

______

You spent your days restlessly wandering through the entire palace and the connecting garden, with no real destination other than the intention of wanting to make time pass in hope something life-alternating would happen. But it never did.

You rarely saw the god and you were grateful for that, only remaining in contact with Ara and the other servants. But despite them trying their best, they weren’t able to fill the gap your family had left. With each passing day, the hole inside of you grew larger. And with each passing day, you wondered how much bigger it must still grow until it made you end this once and for all.

Once again, you were standing in the garden, listening to the stream while having to watch the god cross the bridge every morning and evening to ride somewhere past the horizon as you started to notice a few days ago. You had never asked him about where he was going even though you were very curious about what laid beyond the river. If you wanted to find out though…

“I wouldn’t even think about it,” you heard an unknown male voice talk behind you that wasn’t as deep as this palace’s owner. “That’s the river of oblivion. Once you fall into it, you forget where you are, what you are and first and foremost… who you are.”

You spun around and encountered a man only a bit shorter than the god of this place with flaming, dark red hair, donned in all black with golden embellishments. You had never seen him here before, and his glamorous garments as well as sophisticated and elegant aura gave away that he was not a servant, but of a much higher status and with much power.

“Jaehyun told me that he had taken in a human to make his wife, so I wanted to see her myself.”

Jaehyun… In comparison to the god of this realm whose name was Jaehyun as you now knew, this person had a much friendlier appearance with a smile that was inviting and a voice that sounded playful. “And you are…?”

“The god of sun and light, and everything bright and pleasant. I’m very pleased to meet you, mistress.”

He stretched out his hand and took your fingers into his. Oddly, you didn’t withdraw but let him do so as you weren’t scared of him. After everything that had happened to you these past weeks, you felt numb to almost everything.

You sucked in a rush of air though as he lifted your hand and led it to his lips, pressing a kiss on our knuckles and causing you to gasp in surprise. It was not your first physical interaction with a man apart from your family, but the first with no ulterior motif from either side, a chaste and respectful gesture. You were taken aback and impressed at the same time.

“I must admit… if I were Jaehyun, I would have chosen you as well.”

You were flattered, but not impressed. “It doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like being here.”

“After all this time you still think like this?” He raised his brows. “I’m impressed. Every other mortal would have caved already.”

“Well… I’m not like them.”

“Obviously.” He tilted his head and smiled again. “Have you ever tried getting accustomed to this place? It’s not as boring as it looks like. Especially beyond the river. Even though I prefer the light, this darkness has something comforting, I must admit.”

“Enough, Taeyong,” another male voice cut through the air that you knew very well. “I didn’t invite you here today to put ideas into her head.”

“Even I see her potential, Jaehyun,” your new acquaintance talked back immediately. “Take her with you to the ha-”

“I said enough,” the god interrupted. “She has expressed more than once that she wants to go home, so if you don’t have a solution for that, I would rather have you stay quiet.”

“What is there?” you urged the sun god to speak, suddenly full of hope again. “What is beyond the river?”

But it was the underworld’s god that answered instead, “There is only death, so don’t even think about escaping through these lands. There is no way you will make it out there alive all by yourself.”

And with that, the topic was closed as he disappeared with the sun god back into the palace, leaving you behind in wonder about what there still was to this realm that you had to unravel. If you wanted to unravel that.

Later that evening, you caught Taeyong intending to leave through the main entrance, luckily all by himself. You jumped out from your den, causing him to nearly get a heart attack judging by the way he leapt back with a scream, and asked with a hushed voice,

“What is beyond the river of oblivion?”

Your fingers grabbed the sleeves of his shirt, and he leaned in to you, replying with an equally low tone, “He’s right, there is only death. But that is probably what you are looking for.”

And with another smile, he left through the gates, having opened up more questions than actually having answered one. 

____

“Where are you going?”

Jaehyun cocked his head to the side on his way out of the palace when he got surprised by you in the entrance hall the next day. “Underworld duties.”

“Take me with you,” you demanded, noticing that he was formally dressed and wearing his crown again as always when he left the palace. “It’s where you always leave to, right? Take me with you.”

He frowned. “What?”

“You heard me very well. I want to come with you,” you repeated and approached him until you stood right in front of him, already fully dressed in a cloak that Ara had pulled out of the closet for you. “Take me with you.”

He looked down at you, then let out an ambiguous chuckle. “You think if I take you with me out there, you will find a way to escape? You can put that idea right out of your mind. As a mortal, there are more gruesome fates than falling into the river of oblivion that will await you when you roam out there freely all by yourself. This is the underworld, after all.”

It didn’t pass by you that he, for the first time, used the term ’mortals’, not ‘humans’, a fine but significant difference. You wondered whether not all gods and sprites and whatever creatures also resided here were immortal. And if he was immortal too.

It was as though he could read everything shooting through your mind at that moment. Skepticism, anger, disappointment, then again, hope. He had seen right through you. But perhaps not entirely though as there was something he hadn’t discovered yet: the slight seed of curiosity that had been planted by the god of sun yesterday.

What was beyond the river that you were supposedly looking for? 

“Still,” you brought yourself to say and clenched your fists, moving your feet in restlessness.  “Take me with you. What am I supposed to do here all day, all by myself?” 

“No,” the god roared, deep and dominant, and you actually withdrew in response to his suppressed outburst. Regret turned visible in his expression as though he hadn’t intended to sound so harsh as he continued gentler, “No mortal has ever roamed the grounds of hell, and I won’t be the first one to allow one to do so.”

But you wouldn’t give in so easily. “Take me with you nonetheless!” You took a few steps forward until you stood right in front of him and with your fists, you now hammered against his chest. “Take. Me. With. You!” 

Coming down at his strong muscles with your hands over and over again, it felt like striking against those palace stone walls, sharp pain shooting up to your shoulders with each forceful motion, and it made you even madder. You now screamed, wanting your way and letting your anger and despair all out - but he withstood it all.

Even when you exhausted yourself, you didn’t give up, even when your motions grew slower and sloppier, your breathing more irregular. That was until he caught your striking fists with his palms, stopping your rebelling behavior with a single grip, obviously fed up now. His hands were so big in comparison to yours, and so unexpectedly warm and strong too.

“You done?” the god asked relaxedly when you had finally stopped fidgeting.

You had your teeth bared, glaring at him, but you weren't physically fighting anymore. Your chest heaved up and down, in unison with his, and for a moment, you both had your gazes locked, surveying each other until a smile raised the corners of his mouth, and it wasn’t in the least bit mocking.

You became aware of the fact that the god was still holding your hands, but it was something entirely else from when the sun god had taken yours into his. They were both gestures with different intentions, but somehow, this one caused your cheeks to heat and change color, and additionally, your heart to skip half a beat. 

With feigned disgust, you scowled and shook him off, then hid your arms behind your back in the safety of the cloak.

“I’ll get the horse prepared for two people.” The god looked at you for a second too long, which irritated you very much, then spun around. You didn’t know what had made him change his mind, but in the end, it didn’t matter. “Pull up the hood and make sure to protect your face at all times. The ride can get really dusty.”

As you followed him outside, there was a black-maned horse waiting for you both. You stood behind him, intimidated and amazed by the enormous animal at the same time. 

“Immortal horses are fascinating, aren’t they?” he asked you. “Every god owns at least one divinely-bred.”

He swung upon the horse’s back after a servant had saddled it properly for two, moving backwards to leave more space in the front. The next moment, he had grabbed you by your waist and heaved you on the horse’s back like you weighed nothing. Luckily, your skirts were wide enough for you to settle your legs on either side of the animal. 

The god then hauled you against his chest with one swift motion, his strong forearm pressed into your upper stomach. Before you could snap for air, he loosened his grip on you again, but left his hand resting right under your ribcage, always on the alert to secure your position if you tended to teeter too much to one side. You swallowed hard as the horse started galloping, and before you could notice, the both of you had already crossed the dangerous bridge with its eerie turquoise water, snippets flashing by that you only caught from the corner of your periphery under your wide hood. 

You knew your attention shouldn’t be on the main rider’s free hand gripping hard on the reins that made his veins pop out and your thoughts spinning with fantasies you had never had of him before, but you couldn’t turn your thoughts away from it either. Pleasant goosebumps ran all down your spine whenever you lost your balance for a second and his strong arm around your middle reared you right back.

You didn’t want this. Of course, as a young woman, you had needs and also a fair share of past experiences, but none of it had ever surfaced since you were residing here.

Until now.

____

While you were riding along the rolling plains, you came to a terrifying solution: The redness of the sky didn’t come from the sun and neither from another natural source of light in the underworld that would resemble a planet back up there on earth. In fact, they came from fields far out there close to the horizon. These fields were burning, flames ascending to the sky whose tips you only witnessed when you passed and eventually came to a stop close by.

“These are the torture fields,” the god told you. “It’s where souls reside who I refuse to let be reborn. As you might have figured by now, it’s why our sky is always red. The flames never diminish, they only get concealed by the god of sky during night time upon my request.”

“Why did you request for him to conceal it?”

“The red sky reminds me of what I’m doing, what my destiny as the god of the underworld is. If I can request for a few hours of peace where I’m not reminded of the souls on the torture fields that I sent down there myself, that I am the one causing this red sky, I would do anything for it.”

It was the second time he willingly let you take a quick glance behind his facade, his cold and dark exterior. You wondered whether there was still way more you would need to discover. But would you really want to?

“What’s the fate of those on these torture fields?” you asked instead.

“Imagine the worst pain you’ve ever felt. Maybe you have once broken a bone or sustained a similar fracture. Now, that’s not even the full extent of pain a human is able to feel. Multiply it by a thousand. That’s close to the pain you have to endure day and night, for all eternity. Frightening, isn’t it?”

Frightening didn’t even come close to describe the lump in your throat right now. A cold shudder ran down your spine despite you putting much effort into not letting your true emotions slip. “Do they literally burn there on the fields?”

“Something like that, yes. If you listen carefully, little rose, you can even hear their screams. My palace is located too far away, but right now, we’re close enough to hear their faint noises.” He brought the horse to a halt and gave you a sign to remain silent as well. “Listen.”

You did. From the direction of the torture fields, you heard a feeble clamor as though someone was constantly pressing on a piano’s keyboard, and the tone never subsided. It was a very faint sound, but so eerie that it made the hair on your arms stand up. You imagined pain so gravely, you were never able to stop screaming in agony despite the exhaustion. For all eternity.

“Don’t worry, little rose,” the god reassured you, and you didn’t flinch when he soothingly nudged your side. It had something calming to it. “Someone like you won’t ever land on the torture fields.”

You wished you could believe him and gulped, hard. “What kind of souls would find their fate here?”

“Murderers mostly, to summon it up. But I decide over all their fates individually, so it might also be possible that someone has committed a grave crime that doesn’t include murder and still ends up on the torture fields. And vice versa.”

You had been holding in your breath and only noticed when you let out a rush of air. “I see.”

“Why are you so tense, little rose?” the god expressed his concern that seemed genuine to you. “Someone as pure as you and with a heart as strong as yours would surely get another chance at life.”

“You don’t know me,” you answered repellently, but didn’t shake off his hand that had magically found its way on your shoulder as though he wanted to comfort you physically like a human, but didn’t exactly know how. “You know nothing about me, you cannot tell.”

“That’s true. But I cannot imagine you being a human who deserves to experience endless torture, and I’ve been with my duties for way longer than I can remember.”

“Perhaps, there are times where even you will get surprised.” It was intended to be a joke, but your dry voice didn’t make the sentence sound like one, which was why you added a light, choking laughter. 

“What could you have possibly done? Slept with someone before marriage? Screw that, just have fun. Stolen groceries? A peccadillo, nothing grave to be noted down, and even minuscule when you were poor and suffering from hunger. What else? Hurt someone? Most people only physically hurt when they feel threatened or have been hurt themselves before. I could tell you many, many more examples that won’t justify a destiny on the torture fields for you.”

You weren’t an appropriate girl in any sense as you had done all of the things he listed, and even many more. Feeling bound to your family for your whole life, you had never quite treasured your virginity until marriage like every other girl and had had way too much fun in the miller’s barn with his eldest son before you came here. Whenever you seemed short of groceries, you had developed a few tricks where letting fruits and vegetables slip into your bag during market visits always went unnoticed. And you randomly and happily thought back to the time you had once smacked a boy who had made fun of your sister and your situation.

And the god of the underworld wanted to tell you that these were all still justifiable? 

“No human is untainted, free of sins, little rose,” he continued. “But that doesn’t make every person a bad one. As a matter of fact, the majority are good people, and I can sense them from a mile away. You’re not a bad person who deserves to endure agony for eternity.”

You rather let him believe for as long as he could.

Though he added, “Everything will come out in the hall of judgment anyway.”

“The hall of judgment?” you asked carefully.

“Where we’re headed to now. That’s where I comply with my duties as the god of the underworld.” As though he noticed your disarray, he added with an edge, “You wanted to come with me, right? So be prepared for that.”

Nothing could have prepared you for what was about to come next.

____

The hall of judgment was a massive cave rather than an actual hall in the semi-darkness of a mountain range that had the river of oblivion flow through. The hollowed ceiling was carried by large pillars merging seamlessly with the stony inside, a long carpet indicating the way. There were only several candles alit, the flames mirrored and broken in the river that threw the reflected lighting into all directions. 

You were sitting next to the god on a throne of which you were unsure whether it had been there for your entire stay already as he had initially intended you to be his wife. Nonetheless, it made you feel inquisitive and intimidating at the same time, as though you didn’t belong there but couldn’t request being placed elsewhere either.

“This is where the souls face me, where I decide about their fate. And today, you will assist me,” the god explained after he had settled next to you.

“Assist you?” You weren’t repressed, but rather intrigued about what was going to happen here.

“You’re not going to watch me only, you’re going to judge yourself, whether you send a soul into the river of oblivion from where they will start a new life or send them to the torture fields for eternal pain.”

You frowned, full of suspicion whether you had heard right. “Pardon me? I will decide about their fate? Me?”

“Exactly,” he confirmed with a proud smile.

You raised a brow, but didn’t refuse instantly, to your very own surprise too. “How do I know what happened to them?”

“They will tell you.”

“And if they don’t speak the truth?”

“In the hall of judgment, you are only allowed to speak the truth, otherwise you cannot answer.”

You had many more questions, but since you had already delayed your arrival, you decided to remain silent and just watch. You trusted him to tell you what to do and when to do, and until then, you would only observe. To your clear surprise, a human in its physical shape walked in the next moment, a young boy, not even ten years of age just yet. Just like your sister. 

“They all remain in their human form so as to not shock them,” the god explained quietly while the boy made its way towards you. “They will lose their physical shape once I make my judgment, but by then, they won’t remember anymore.”

Your expression changed from perplexity to empathy when you encountered the state the young boy was in, ragged clothes, no shoes. He explained that he came right from the streets, having lived there for a few years already.

The child was nervously kneading his wrinkled hat in his hands as he stuttered, “M-my father died overseas w-when I was only a baby. My- my mother was the sole one t-to get us through the first years. U-until we ran out of money. Sh-she died shortly after and I… I had to start living on the streets a-all by myself.”

“For how many years did you live on the streets?” you asked empathically, not knowing whether you were even allowed to, but it didn’t matter to you at this point. You felt so much sympathy for him, your heart ached.

The boy dropped his head. “Three years.”

You gasped inaudibly, not wanting to unsettle the boy. Instead, you forced yourself to smile, the sorrow undertone hidden by concealing happiness. “You did well. For your age, you did so well. You can be proud of yourself. Your mother surely is too.”

“C-can I ask how did I die?”

“You slept in peacefully and didn’t wake up,” you started, and the god frowned, but didn’t interrupt you, which you appreciated. ”It was really cold, but it didn’t bother you, because for you, it felt like a warm blanket that you got enveloped in. Perhaps, almost like the one in your former home with which your mom would tuck you in. Did you have something like that?”

With sparkles in his eyes, the boy nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I remember!”

“Very well. That moment, you dreamed back to your warm house where there were the three of you. You died peacefully, engulfed in a dream that felt like reality.”

The boy started crying, and you wanted to get up with the intention of offering him a comforting embrace, but the god’s hand latched out onto yours, holding you back. Locking your gazes, he shook his head and you slowly settled back on your throne. “Dead souls cannot be touched,” he whispered only for you to hear. “Otherwise they are doomed to wander these lands forever as nightmarish creatures.”

“W-what w-ill m-m-my judgment b-be?” the boy hiccuped as you shifted your attention back to him.

You held yourself back this time to leave the decision to the god himself, but he remained quiet, only giving you a squeeze with his fingers that were still covering yours, both of your hands lying on your side of the armrest. Then, he nodded encouragingly.

So you spoke softly, “You will get to leave this miserable life behind. You will get to start a new life. You don’t have to suffer anymore.”

“Thank you.”

And while he was still expressing his gratitude, the god caught you shedding some light tears yourself, but you were smiling throughout them in all honesty, because you were so happy that the little boy wouldn’t need to continue living in a world that had been so cruel to him.

When the boy followed a servant to the outside after the god had officially pronounced the sentence that you had decided on, he started explaining, “The moment they step into the hall, I know their backstories, I have to tell you. They only explain their own opinion and point of view to me. Since you don’t have that privilege, I let them tell their backstories too. For the little boy, he actually died wh-”

“No,” you declined determinedly, emphasized by the shake of your head. “I don’t want to know. Perhaps, you don’t understand, but I’m not immune to feelings unlike you who has been doing this for so long. There is only so much I can take in and carry before every single story will break me apart over and over again. Perhaps, it’s better this way, safer. I want to stand by the stories I tell them.”

“I’m not immune either.” The look you shared that followed was something between surprise and a mutual understanding, until he followed up, “So you want to remain?” 

“I want to remain.”

In a gesture of encouragement, he squeezed your hand again, only now realizing that he hadn’t let go of it all along and that you hadn’t shaken him off, either.

____

By the evening, the god of the underworld had pronounced the sentence to all souls, you only chiming in when it was a case you could relate to, a case which needed a more emotional approach. In the beginning, it had been an overwhelming feeling for you, holding one’s destiny in your hands as the god of the underworld complied to all the judgments you made without a word of protest. 

It made you feel… powerful. And helpful, equally. You were able to take the pain away from these sad souls and plant a more pleasant last memory of their former life into their invisible hearts. No matter the real circumstances of their deaths, you always spun stories more pleasant for their ears, so the majority of souls were allowed to jump into the pool of oblivion, looking forward to a new life.

“My wife killed me, that bitch.” A middle-aged man spat in front of the dais later that day. “I should have taken her with me.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your thigh as you pricked up your ears. It was late already, and you started to get exhausted which was why the god had suggested going home after this case. Though this case would turn out way more different than the ones before, you could solely tell by looking at the man.

His obvious rampant demeanor had caught your attention right away, so you asked calmly, “Tell me in detail, what did you do to your wife?”

"Nothing!" he defended himself loudly. “I did no-”

You remembered that no one was able to lie in the hall of judgment which was apparently why no tone came out of his mouth anymore despite him continuing blabbering. You averted your eyes to your right, wanting to know how the god would react. 

You didn’t expect anything less than the following, “You really dare lie in front of the god of the underworld himself?”

“Please!” The man dropped to his knees and brought his hands together under his chin. “I did nothing wrong in my opinion!”

“How about we let your mistress decide whether you did something wrong to your wife, hm?” the god asked threateningly, his eyes narrowed.

“I only wanted to teach her a lesson,” the man pressed through gritted teeth. “If she hadn’t stayed out for so long, I wouldn’t have had to use my hands.”

Your fingers cramped around the armrests, uneasiness settling in where also nausea spread in your stomach, but the latter way faster. You already knew the end to the story before he could draw the entire outline. Again, like before when you had met cases that left you nearly breathless, the god’s palm found its way back to your hand, blanketing it, and his warmth somehow soothed your anger, restraining it. Somehow, you felt it had the same effect on him.

“How often did you hurt your wife?” you wanted to hear from the man.

“As often as I needed to.” There was no remorse in his voice. “Wives have to be obedient to their husbands, and if they aren’t, we have to remind them of our higher position.”

Anger burned in your veins, the knuckles on your fingers turning white, and even the god’s reassuring gesture could not hold you back from what you were about to say next anymore, “So you think lowly of women because we are female?”

“It’s what nature prescribes!” the man yelled.

“Do you have children?” you interrogated further, your fingers shaking by now. You were so close to jumping off your seat and physically taking it upon yourself.

“My wife never gifted me with one,” he tsk-ed. “Another task in which she has failed me as a woman.”

A growl was collecting on your tongue, and you nearly let the sound slip if it weren’t for the god cutting you off, “And yet, after your death, you stand in front of one. And this very one is deciding about your fate today.”

“Oh?” The man took a step back. “Forgive me, I haven’t known.”

“How about you tell your mistress about the child you deemed unfitting to continue living, no matter how hard it was for your wife to even conceive in the first place? Or the bar woman you impregnated instead, but chased away because you rather wanted to spend the money on alcohol? Or the rich man you once robbed and killed, all in one night?”

You didn’t need to put a second thought into your decision. He sounded exactly like the kind of man your father had been - ruthless, selfish, and so full of apathy, your chest swelled to the point of exploding.

“To the torture fields with him.”

It was the first time for you to use these words, you didn’t recognize your own voice.

____

You sent a man to the torture fields and you enjoyed it.

Even after returning to the palace, you still weren’t able to digest the latest happenings. Again. And again, like in the past, you didn’t feel any remorse afterwards. You felt satisfaction even.

“Is it always like this?” you asked when you stood in the entrance hall of the dark palace. “This lingering feeling of…”

“... satisfaction.” A slight smirk was playing around the god’s lips when he looked at your eager expression. “Yes. It absolutely is.”

“Wow,” you breathed, overwhelmed by so much power you had never imagined of ever possessing. “But… what if I made the wrong decision?”

Was that what the sun god had wanted you to see? A side inside of you that you had repressed for so long? The potential you offered when you were sitting on the throne right next to the god of the underworld?

“There is no right or wrong in the hall of judgment. There is only one truth. And the truth in that case was that you passed judgment on someone who deserved their fate.” He inhaled deeply before breaking down to you, “That is why I want to offer you the throne next to mine.”

Your head snatched upwards and you drew your brows together in suspicion. “What are you saying?”

“I offer you the title ‘the queen of the underworld’,” he repeated more clearly, gaze unwavering but not inscrutable. He meant every single syllable, no underlying joke in his voice, the smirk entirely gone and his dark eyes clear. 

“I’m not going to be your wife,” you declined immediately again, your voice failing you though, and you were afraid he’d notice.

“I don’t want you to become my wife in that sense if you find that thought so repulsive.” There was a chuckle simultaneously rolling from his tongue. “I offer you the position of the queen of the underworld. I offer you half my kingdom, a throne next to mine and a crown made of darkness, just like mine.”

You stood in front of him, feeling very lost at that moment, but also very intrigued. The words that he uttered, you had never dared to even take them into your mouth, let alone speaking them out. “I-” You opened your mouth, but no refusal came out this time. 

You wanted to reason with your mother and sister, but living here had made you realize that they were probably better off without you if they were going to get taken care of with gold to last generations. If you would ever get the chance to return to earth, you would need to get married to someone you probably loathed and lived a boring life as a housewife.

Then, you wanted to argue with the fact that you missed the sun, nature, flowers and everything earth offered to you. But did you really? On earth, flowers withered at the end of every summer, months of coldness dominating your part of the world for the majority of the year. You started to question whether you would have lived a fulfilling life if you had continued like this, only looking forward to spring and rotting away in boredom when the world got blanketed with snow, fighting for survival, year after year.

Here in the underworld, there were no such things as seasons. The darkness might have appeared threatening at the beginning, but you had slowly started to grow accustomed to the different lightning and the constant pleasant temperature. By now, you had also found beauty in the absolute darkness of the night and the sunset-like sky during daytime. 

A conflict spread out inside of you that you had never imagined of ever leading. Had you already found your true fate back then on earth or have you always been destined for more in another world? 

“You only want me to stay because you feel lonely, that’s why you’re offering me the throne,” was your feeble attempt of rejection. “But I’m not like you, Jaehyun. I cannot live this life here.”

“You are very much like me, little rose,” Jaehyun corrected with a growing, new smile you couldn’t define, and then reminded you, ”Did you forget that destiny doesn’t only mean endless torture? The little boy who you sent into the river of oblivion, he will get the chance to start a new life, leaving the one behind in which he only experienced sorrow and suffering. How did you feel at that moment? Didn’t you feel helpful, relieved or even happy for him? Because that’s what will also be required of you as the queen of the underworld. You’re an executor and a savior both at the same time. You’ll be the most powerful queen to ever exist.”

“T-tell me,” you stuttered, “t-tell me the truth. That day… it might have been a coincidence that you were near me, but what made you choose me?”

It couldn’t have been a coincidence only. There must be more to it. There must be a reason you were here now, a sign that this was your fate for which you had always been destined. It would give you the ultimate assurance, a reason less to doubt your entire existence.

“Aren’t you one sneaky little thing, my rose? I wanted to tell you that day already, but you weren’t ready to hear.” Jaehyun stretched out his hand and let the tip of his index finger run along your chin. You shuddered - in full pleasure so obvious, he must have felt it too. And he must have also felt your disappointment when he withdrew his hand again. “Before you appeared here… I mean, before I stole you - pardon me - I was very lonely. So I asked for one day on earth to search for a fitting wife as I haven’t found one among my own kind. But who I got drawn to, precisely by their sugary scent that even overshadowed the flowers and morning dew wrapped pollen on the fingers, wasn’t a timid daisy in a bed full of asters. It was a rose itself who harbored thorns, and I believe, deep within, I knew all along that I finally found someone not only fit to warm my bed, but to reign alongside me. Seldomly have I met someone so strong-willed and fierce like you, lest a mortal. If you decide against the crown of immortal flowers that I offer you, it will be really unfortunate for me as I paid a huge price for getting you.”

You gulped. “...Which price?” 

“I will never be allowed on earth again.”

You understood why he wanted a companion as you couldn’t imagine living at such a huge place all by yourself either. The corridors were long, dark and branched, servants strictly following their duties and always keeping their distance to their master despite him treating them respectfully. Then, there were the endless rolling plains with nothing but dust and nightmarish creatures. The darkness from the underworld must have taken over his heart a long time ago as well, and he was looking for a glimmer of light.

You just weren’t sure whether you were the right one. He hadn’t been able to give you the entire reassurance you still needed.

“That’s unfortunate,” you brought yourself to say eventually. “But I can’t.”

A strand of your hair got lifted up, and he twirled it around his finger, observing it closely and seemingly enjoying the softness that curled around his skin. You had never seen him so at your mercy and apologetic before. “I only had one chance that would define my own destiny which will last an eternity. If I made the wrong choice in selecting you, I am deeply sorry. If there was more that I could tell you, I would. But there isn’t. You were there, and I wanted you. Why don’t you want me too, little rose?”

Your breathing came in hitches. “What would that make me, Jaehyun?”

Leaving your family behind to live in sin here in the underworld. It would make you an outcast, someone expelled from society, someone with no dignity. But then again, when had you ever been someone who was worth more on earth? Weren’t you exactly where you were supposed to be, where darkness reigned like the one which occupied your heart ever since that fateful day a century ago?

Jaehyun’s hand was now on the side of your face, and you fought the urge to nestle against his palm. You relished the feeling the tip of his thumb made when he brushed it over your cheek though, and you wanted more of it, all over your body precisely. You just knew it would be entirely different than what you had experienced with mortal men before. But then again - what would that make you?

“It would make you a human,” Jaehyun calmed you, his expression smoothening despite the obvious threat on his throat. “Just like you are. Don’t you ever forget that. You are allowed to accept every part of you, to feel everything you’re harboring.”

“But it’s just… so hard,” you whispered, unsure what he was even talking about anymore, you being queen or the possibility of you two sharing more than the throne, but also a bed.

“You are a constellation, waiting to be explored and loved. Did any man who ever tried to court you understand that you were so much more than a maiden hidden away in her house’s backyard? Because I understand.” 

There was something glittering in his eyes despite stars being absent here. You opened your lips and closed them again, fighting so hard against the need of wanting them to taste his. 

“You fought so bravely against it. You can allow yourself to finally let go, little rose,” Jaehyun encouraged you with a low whisper. Again, you were questioning whether he actually meant the darkness in your heart or the need of his lips covering yours.

“I-I-...” You let out a long breath that you had been holding in this entire time and took a step back, away from him and from his alluring appearance. “I’m tired. I will return to my chambers.”

You almost stumbled over your own feet running to your chamber, setting one hasty foot after another. When you reached your room, you locked the door behind you as though you were afraid he might follow you and barge in.

As you laid in your bed shortly later, you caught yourself wishing he had done so. And you also caught yourself having naturally addressed him by his name somewhere along the way.

Like he wasn't a distant god or master anymore. But an equal.

____

“Do humans live with you?” you asked Taeyong the next day after encountering him in the garden, joking around with the servants. 

Apparently, he had had a few duties close by and decided to pay the dark palace a visit. As it came to your attention through him a short while ago, Jaehyun’s palace was described as such by outsiders. 

Taeyong laughed, but the smile that he forced himself to wear meanwhile wasn’t sincere. “No, I don’t support this kind of lifestyle.”

“Why? Don’t get me wrong, I’m on your side, but why does your opinion differ from the other gods?”

“The woman I love is a human, what would that make me, abusing her own kind?”

The pain in his voice couldn’t be ignored, it was too obvious, intended or unintended. But it was not the kind of pain a rejected lover would express. “So you’re in love with a mortal, I see.”

“Not just a mortal, a human,” he corrected. “We gods are all immortal, but there are other creatures such as sprites who are also otherworldly, but can indeed die, so they’re mortal. Some humans here have also gained immortality. Mortals and humans are not the same term.”

He confirmed what you had suspected all along. Finally, you understood why Jaehyun had always spoken about humans only and not about mortals when addressing your kind. It was because in the dark palace, he was the only immortal one. 

“I understand. Then… tell me about her, Taeyong. What makes you so sad about her?”

“The fact that I don’t want to love her, and she doesn’t want me to love her either, but I would even give up on my immortality just to be with her. I would instantly go and trade my immortality despite a god never having done that before, and I don’t even know whether it’s possible, but if, I would in a heartbeat.”

The way he spoke about her, soft and passionate, reminded you of the way Jaehyun spoke to you lately, and suddenly yearning tugged on your heartstring, even though he was only a few yards away from you inside the palace.

“It must be a huge sacrifice for a god to be willing to give up their immortality for a human. It sounds like you sincerely love her.”

“I don’t love her sincerely,” Taeyong continued bluntly, shocking you. But a tinge of the same yearning resonated in his tone too, so you were truly confused about his contradicting reaction. “It’s not the kind of love I wish upon anyone. I haven’t chosen her, but every fiber of my heart longs for her love. One day, it will tear me entirely apart. It will be the day she dies.”

You frowned. “I don’t think I understand…”

“I’m cursed by the god of love. Ironic, isn’t it?” He let out a laugh, but it didn’t sound amused at all, bitter even. “I’m cursed to love her until the end of days, and she’s cursed to not reciprocate it.”

It sounded so sad and unfortunate to you, you didn’t quite know what to say. “I’m so sorry.” You couldn’t imagine how painful it must be to feel and live like this. And what would happen if she died one day? Would he continue loving her and longing for her when all traces of her had evaporated, for all eternity? You repeated, this time much more sensitively, “I’m so sorry, Taeyong.”

“Now, don’t look so sad, there is nothing to be sad about,” Taeyong tried to cheer you up. “I have arranged myself to live like this. That’s why I think you’re very lucky.”

“Me?” You pointed at yourself. “Why should I be?”

“Because humans still know what true love is. They can decide on who to be with, who to open their hearts to, who to let in. Most gods solemnly seek for the comfort of a warm body next to them at any given time, or marry only out of convenience. Some gods are cursed, just like me, some even happen to face a worse fate. Only the minority don’t seek for a puppet or an arrangement, but a real partner. Like Jaehyun.”

You sneered. “According to everyone else, he’s one of the most powerful gods in your entire realm. Why would he care for a real partner, a human even?”

“You don’t know him very well, do you? He might have only searched for a timid wife to sit next to him in the throne hall and perhaps show him a bit of affection. But that would have never been enough for him, and he always knew, otherwise he would have picked the first human he saw.”

“All I’m saying is,” you defended your opinion, “I might not be the right person for whatever he requires of me.”

Taeyong shrugged, but not with an indifferent intention. “You might be the exact right person for this as he doesn’t require anything from you except for you just to be you.”

“Why would you say that?” you sighed, distressed.

“Jaehyun traded his permission to be allowed on earth to find you. It was risky and stupid, I can admit that, but at least he went after what he had been searching for this entire time. It impresses me very much. Doesn’t it impress you too?”

“That’s not a good enough reason. He only had one shot,” you tried to understand. “And he picked me. What if he chose wrong?”

“That is your perception.” Taeyong smiled, no trace of sadness anymore. “Mine is that he was a lonely man looking at a million women in the span of half a day. And he didn’t need to look at a million other women and take the remaining hours to settle with the last possible option out of pure panic, because he ran out of time. He went for what caught his eye, felt right to him and gave him hope. Isn’t that a good enough reason?”

You fell into silence. 

“Ah, I must go now. But just let me tell you this one last thing.” You raised your brows in expectation, watching Taeyong shift around and seamlessly continuing without looking back, “Jaehyun is the god of the underworld. Never has he made a wrong decision.”

You wished you didn’t believe him.

____

Jaehyun probably knew it the moment you walked into the great hall that day. He probably saw it in the nervous flickers of your eyes, he probably smelled it in the light sheen of sweat glistening around your cleavage, probably heard it in the ragged breaths of your lungs. 

You had come to kill him. 

But he didn’t say a single word.

Your walk wasn’t as determined and full of confidence as usual, the steps barely heard as though you might change your mind every second. The silver blade was glistening between your fingers and then slipped up your sleeve again in hope he hadn’t seen.

“Did you think about my offer, little rose?” Jaehyun asked almost nonchalantly as he moved on his throne, but didn’t descend. 

Today, he was wearing his dark crown at home again. Ironically, on his death day too, you thought silently to yourself. “Yes,” you announced and let your head drop when you stood in front of him. “I can’t.”

“And why is it that you think that you can’t? You’re a human, someone with a free will. We gods don’t have that.”

“It’s because I have a free will that I decide against your offer.”

“Very well. I accept that.” He let out a long sigh that didn’t sound in the least bit agitated though. “If you ever change your mind while you’re still here, I am willing to get back to my offer.”

“I’m afraid there is not enough time.”

Then you lashed out, and the  next moment, he had a knife to his throat, blood spilling where the blade cut into his skin. It was only lightly, but enough to tear apart even the sheerest of paper. You didn’t dare to push deeper, your trembling fingers clinging onto the handle when you settled on his lap with your legs locking him in place on either side.

“Why don’t you stab me?” Jaehyun whispered, not moving a single inch.

You were aware he couldn’t die, not from your mortal hands. This action was your feeble attempt and last resort of holding onto something you should have left behind the moment you had stepped into the darkness: humanity. If you stabbed him, you wouldn’t feel the same as with your father back then. If you stabbed him, you would feel remorse, and that would remind you that you were still all that - a human.

You ground your teeth, breathing irregularly while having difficulties remaining the knife in its position. Jaehyun was still sitting quietly beneath you, looking up at you with expectant eyes that didn’t mirror anything like reproach or anger. He knew you wouldn’t do that, he knew that exactly, and that fueled your despair even more, because, in the end, you had known all along too.

“You can defy everything, little rose, even me,” Jaehyun muttered, stretching out his hand that then touched a strand of your hair and gently tucked it behind your ear. “But the truth is that you want me, and this life. And it’s killing you. Not me.”

You had never wanted to be anything less than extraordinary, but no one had ever told you that you could possibly be bound for so much greater either. Restless in your own world, you had tended flowers day for day, wondering if there was more to life than the one you were living. You had always been subconsciously rattling on the invisible chains of simplicity, boredom and too much comfort, struggling to let go fully.

And now he, the god of the underworld himself, was pressed into the throne in front of you, not fighting back under the threat of your knife, even though he was able to unalive you with only the flick of his finger. He was patiently waiting for your decision, had seen and fostered your potential from the very beginning.

You weren’t a timid little flower in the backyard anymore. 

You were the dangerous seeds of pomegranates. 

“Tell me, little rose, will you accept even the darkest parts of you like I do?”

A few beats of silence passed by where Jaehyun only heard your rattled breathing going hand in hand with the erratic rhythm of your chest heaving up and down, until the knife dropped to the dais with a loud noise. His fingers grazed over your scalp, settling there shortly before they grabbed a bundle of hair, preparing to haul you to him.

But he didn’t need to. Willingly, you leaned down, stopping right before your lips touched his, wavering in that moment a little too long. Jaehyun’s fingers slipped from the back of your head past your ear, touching your cheek. He was so close, you could feel his breath stroking your chin as his finger tips slid further, trailing over your bottom lip.

Your eye contact was so strong and more intense unlike anything you had ever experienced before. He was exploring the deepest parts of your soul with his gaze only, making you wonder how much longer it would take Jaehyun to unravel all of you without even having touched you more intimately.

Instinctively, you parted your lips, and he slipped his thumb past them. With the tip of your tongue, you licked over his skin, then started sucking on his finger. This gesture had something so tainted yet intimate to it, you feared that he might withdraw right away, but the look in his eyes and his own slightly agape mouth only reassured you of the fact that he found it as seductive as you. 

But Jaehyun was still awaiting your answer before it was processed. You were sure though that whatever would start to happen next, it would be world-destructive in so many senses. You only hoped you would be prepared for it.

You sucked in a huge breather and Jaehyun retracted his hand from your mouth as he assumed you wanted to say something. There was much expectation lying behind his awaiting eyes, even though you both knew by now what your answer would be.

“Beg.”

Jaehyun cocked a brow. “Pardon?”

“Beg for it.”

You could clearly see the struggle in his eyes, and even a touch of indignation, but as he saw how serious you were about it, he apparently swallowed all his pride.

“Please,” he growled lowly. “Be my queen.”

“You don’t have to be alone anymore,” you finally whispered as you hovered above him with not much resistance.

At this moment, you laid bare in front of him, with your soul and mind at his mercy, and he could do anything he wanted with it. 

But he didn’t. 

Instead, Jaehyun let you come forward and close the last remaining space between the two of you as you pressed your lips against his, reassuring him of your words’ honesty. You had made your decision, and you were willing to take everything that came along with it - including the god of the underworld himself.

Suddenly, Jaehyun gasped in shock when he tasted something familiar on your tongue. 

There it was.

Pulling away, he snatched your hand, spotting red stains on the tips of your fingers and whispering breathlessly, “Pomegranate seeds.” And then louder, “You ate pomegranate seeds!”

You clarified, “Seven of them, to be exact.”

By the way he examined your lips and licked over his own, he must by now also spot and taste the red seeds on your own mouth that had passed by him before. 

"You deceived me,” Jaehyun realized. “You never needed me to beg for you to be queen.”

“I needed to be sure you truly meant it,” you disclosed the truth to him. “Whether you would be able to lay your title aside for me and open up to me about what you truly want, as a man and not as a king. Whether you would see me as an equal.”

He hesitated. “What if I had said no?”

One edge of your mouth curved upwards. “From the very beginning, I knew you wouldn’t.”

“How lucky you are, as a queen isn’t to be opposed,” he then said with a smirk, “she’s to be obeyed and worshiped.”

When your lips came together again and his hands grabbed hard on the tender flesh of your buttocks, you were both aware that you had never needed to be convinced to stay with him in the first place.

_____

Jaehyun’s hands weren’t on your face anymore as his mouth gave you all the attention you needed there, lips and tongue deep inside you. Instead, you felt his palms pressing into your exposed thighs after he had successfully and nearly imperceptibly pulled your skirts up, skin grazing against skin, his touch causing you to shudder with craving so unfathomable, you believed you were going to burst. This time, from bliss only.

His tongue outlined the form of your lips, your mouth then again melting into the kiss you two were sharing, so passionate and full of yearning as though you had been waiting a lifetime for only this moment. In both of your cases, it was applicable - the god of the underworld who had been alone all along, and a mortal girl who was bound for so much more than a simple life on earth.

Your back arched into Jaehyun’s body when his hands wandered upwards and curled into the curve of your spine, his fingers dancing across the naked skin under all the fabric which hung flattery around your figure. Without breaking your kiss, you gripped onto the very first button of his black shirt and undid it, your hands stained with the blood of the wound that you had caused earlier.

Snapping back to reality, you bounced back with a gasp, inspecting Jaehyun’s neck that now looked surprisingly unscathed where your knife had once slid through, only the spilled blood remaining. “Wha-”

“We gods heal way faster than humans, because that’s what we are…” he explained patiently, “immortal.”

That was something you hadn’t put further thought into, but absolutely made sense considering that you technically couldn’t kill him. Somehow, a bad conscience still seeped into you, so you said, “I’m sorry” with much regret in your voice. 

“Don’t apologize, little rose,” was only his answer, adorned with a smile while his fingers fiddled with the collar around your cleavage. “You did what you had to do. It was important to me that you weighed all your options and still decided to be with me.”

Jaehyun tugged on your sleeves, pulling the upper part of your dress all the way down. The fabric settled around your hips with loud rusting, and only now you noticed that he had grown distinctively hard between your thighs. It aroused you very much as well, a cool breeze caressing your breasts and making your nipples turn hard. 

You had never carefully paid attention to what you considered flaws on your body, but the god sitting under you was incontrovertibly perfect and you, as a human, certainly didn’t perceive yourself in the same way. There was nothing to hide your naked body behind in this short span of doubt, but your shoulders slacked nonetheless, especially in this dominant position, and he noticed.

Jaehyun lifted you off his lap with a surprised sound falling from your lips. Your thighs were locked around his hips and you held onto him while he descended from the throne and placed you with your back on the carpet in front of the dais. With your arms slung across your chest while now lying in front of him, you tried to hide from him what you considered unpleasant for his eyes. You had never had this problem during your fleeting intimate encounterings before.

“Please don’t be insecure,” Jaehyun spoke gently, looming over you. “You’re so beautiful, I can’t take my eyes off you.”

Oddly, you believed every single word and willingly freed your chest as your thoughts and worries started to leave your mind. His tongue flicked over your nipple and with a moan, you threw your head back against the carpet, your fingers buried in his thick hair which was free from a crown now, scratching his scalp when he decided to gently suck on your peaks in alternation. It made you grow hot and wet in your nether regions, and you started to ache with the need for release.

You whined when Jaehyun suddenly withdrew, but let out a yelp when he grabbed your thighs, yanking you towards him and burying his face between your legs under the many layers of your skirts. His tongue indulged you, making hard passes over your folds before flicking your clit over and over. You hadn’t known what to expect of a god, but literally devouring you kind of made sense now.

His tongue was long, wet and thick, and it slid over your exposed parts in delightful strokes, the groaning sounds Jaehyun made meanwhile vibrating through you and almost making you cum on spot if it weren’t for him deciding to use his lips next. They felt full and warm on your wetness when he sucked on you, and you calmed down a bit, moving your body to the same sensual rhythm as his caressing mouth. 

“You taste better than the pomegranate seeds,” Jaehyun told you when he appeared by your face again, licking over his wet lips. 

He wanted to prolong the act, but that didn’t withhold him from having fun, so he started playing with you through his rough fingers rubbing soft circles around your clit while observing you with a satisfied grin. These fingers then moved past your barrier and started to thrust inside of you, causing you to fidget with your legs, wanting to get rid of the dress that you suddenly didn’t see as a protection from your mortality anymore, but an annoyance.

Jaehyun, as though an expert in reading your needs now, helped you with that and dragged the entire dress down your legs, throwing it aside. You watched him then elegantly and calmly undressing himself too, and when he dropped on his knees in front of your spread legs, entirely naked, his appearance just took your breath away.

He was magnificent. And he had decided on you to make his queen. Out of all creatures, mortal and immortal, human and god, he had decided on you. Suddenly, you didn’t see it as a punishment anymore, but a blessing. You were so lucky.

Jaehyun positioned himself between your thighs, slowly stroking his length against your entrance that was already slick with precum. You guessed everything that worked for humans worked for gods too. And that also included pain as you hadn’t had sex in so long already.

There was indeed a pang as he pushed himself inside, but it lasted only the break of a second that he luckily didn’t catch before it melted into pleasure, and it was the kind of pleasure you hadn’t been able to ever fathom before. It felt like something fell into place, like finding something that you had grasp seeking for all your lifetime and had just now discovered.

The way he slid his length in, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, was what you would describe as pure bliss, the most decadent, indulgent pleasure you had ever felt. You reached down and grabbed his bum, pulling him into you so that he sank even deeper if that were even possible as he had already hit the brim.

“Already so insatiable, little rose?” Jaehyun groaned with an underlying chuckle, propping his hands against the carpet on either side of you. “Or should I call you ‘my queen’ from now on?” 

He wasn’t even expecting an answer as he knew your clear response to it. His first thrust then inside of you was already so powerful, it nearly knocked the air out of your lungs. 

You weren’t his captive, nor his prisoner. He had never seen you as such. You were soon to be the queen by his side, his equal. Yet, all you wanted was him to fuck you senseless, devour you, ravage you, and worse. And you had the feeling that the god of the underworld wouldn’t mind doing all that as the sinister grin on his lips slightly gave away while you whispered almost absent-mindedly,

“More, more!”

Your fingers curled around the rug beneath you whenever he pulled back, his muscles straining and drawing in a deep breath before he slammed right back into you, causing you to gasp loudly, the echo getting carried across the wide hall. You hadn’t deemed it to be possible, but you swore that with every thrust, he drove in even deeper. A cry strangled in your throat, your vision rolling back as you had difficulties keeping eye contact with him. Your naked bodies moved together in unison despite you having feared at first that you might have forgotten how this act worked. 

For this being you two’s first joining, you didn’t feel inferior or controlled like in the past when you had used sex and everything forbidden only as a coping mechanism. Every noise you made, whether dry moaning or lustful cry, was because of pure pleasure, and Jaehyun always responded with a short pause where he looked you longingly in the eyes and halted his motions for a moment before starting off shallowly again as though he quite couldn’t believe you were there. You couldn’t either.

With each kiss, you felt adored. With each touch, you felt appreciated. With each thrust, you felt worshiped. It wasn’t only about him, but about you too, regardless of your human nature. 

Pleasure quickly started to build and grow within you, and you were afraid you were going to faint on the spot as Jaehyun’s rhythm changed and he picked up his pace. Your mortal body was supposedly too weak and too fragile to take everything he could give all at once despite you wanting to explore everything, all of it. 

But you couldn’t just yet, despite him clearly willing to give you all you needed, for as long as you wanted. If you continued, you feared you might really splinter and be impossible to put back together, dying right there in his arms, because the bliss was too much for a human to take in.

“Please,” you were the one begging now, your hands coming forward and clutching around his toned arm muscles. “I can’t anymore. I need to-”

“Very well, my queen.”

The new title was music to your ears, and the moment you saw stars exploding in front of your eyes, you also witnessed the sparkles merging and forging a crown made of darkness, just like his.

You were screaming and writhing under him, grabbing onto anything, something just to make sure that you would stay here and not fly off into another realm or worse, back to earth. But you were still with Jaehyun when you calmed down and his own orgasm ripped through him, the god of the underworld coming undone right above you.

His chest heaved as he tried to regain his breath, his toned body gleaming with sweat, but he still took his time to end your session with a kiss on your mouth that sealed the eternal proposal you had accepted.

“This is the only time I wouldn’t mind giving up power as a queen,” you reminded him as he pulled you to his chest, still there on the carpet. “Don’t you forget that.”

“Very well, my queen.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you felt his smile on you.

____

When you woke up the next morning, you only after a short while realized that you weren’t in your own chambers. Warmth rose to your cheeks when you remembered what happened after you had threatened Jaehyun with a knife. And after that. And after that again. And…

Each joining had lasted longer than the one before, him giving more and you taking more, until your experience wasn’t only earth-shattering, but also soul-rendering. Every session tightened the bond that had formed between the two of you even stronger, and you wondered how long it would take until it couldn’t break anymore. Perhaps, it had never been destructible to begin with.

You blinked against the dim reddish light and got into a seating position before observing the room that was almost identical to yours, probably just a bit bigger, furnished fuller and more luxuriously. 

“I figured you wanted to remain true to mortal customs.”

You hadn’t spotted Jaehyun sitting on the edge of the bed, hair messy and body bare safe from a pair of satin bottoms. Again, you remembered that on earth, you had never seen a human so beautiful like him. You couldn’t even bring yourself to believe there was.

“What do you mean?” you asked with a raspy voice, and he apparently found it endearing in the way he reacted to your question.

“I heard that on earth, after you propose marriage and the other person accepts, you’re engaged. That’s the time before the actual wedding, right? And that the woman is gifted a diamond ring. At least that’s what Taeyong told me.”

“That’s right,” you confirmed, but you had never seen a real diamond ring before. When people in your village got engaged, they usually bought a cheap ring or used an heirloom, but as you had never expected to get married, you had never put much thought into owning one yourself.

“I didn’t know which kind of stone you liked and neither which kind of cut you preferred, let alone the color,” Jaehyun spelled out, insecurity swinging in his undertone. “I spent the entire rest of the night only deciding on that.” He slid closer to you along the mattress which let you spot the softness in his voice resonating in the look of his eyes. “And then I came to the conclusion that all of that doesn’t matter. Trivial things like these don’t matter to you. But… I still wanted to give the mortal girl I stole from her family a diamond ring. Simply because she deserves it.”

From the corner of your periphery, you spotted something glittering. When he opened his palm fully, a dainty silver ring got revealed to you, a black diamond sitting on the very top. Its shape reminded you of a blossoming flower, held together by silvery thorns that twined along the outline. 

“It’s the shape of a rose,” Jaehyun explained, “cut of diamonds from deep inside the mountains where only the residing god has access to.”

A rose for his beloved little rose cut of stone in the same color as their hearts.

It was the most beautiful jewelry you had ever seen, one of those you usually only read about in fairytale books. Jaehyun reached out his hand and took yours into his, sliding the ring along the right finger until it sat perfectly where an engagement ring was supposed to be seen. You had never wanted to pay much attention to materialistic stuff, but as soon as you saw the diamond adorning your hand, you were flooded with so much pride and an overwhelming feeling of finally having found your place in this world that it drove tears into your eyes.

“Did… did I do something wrong?” Jaehyun suddenly sounded so worried and squeezed your fingers together, expressing his concern. “Isn’t it what you wanted? We can change the diamond, the color, or if you don’t want a ring at a-”

You shook your head. “It’s… it’s not that. The ring is perfect. This is perfect.”

“What is it then?” 

Pause. “I don’t want to be your queen.”

He let go of your hand, his forehead now in creases. “So, you don’t want to get married to me anymore?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I don’t want to be your queen only.”

The frowns only deepened. “What are you saying?”

“At the beginning, you wanted me as your wife, but I refused. Later on, you said you were looking for a queen. I only accepted to be a queen, not a wife.”

“That is correct.”

“Ask me again.”

“What?”

You chuckled. “Ask me again.”

Jaehyun needed a moment to process, but then his eyes started to sparkle when it dawned on him what you were trying to ask of him. He then took your hand with the engagement ring back into his and held your fingers in front of his chest, the black rose diamond sparkling in the candlelight. 

“Will you marry me? Will you become my wife, loved and cherished every single day, and also become my queen, reigning over the underworld with me?”

Loved and cherished? You had never heard someone speaking these words in the same breath and directing them at you. And now you had the king of the underworld offering you more than you had ever thought possible on earth. He sealed his proposal with a kiss that he gently placed on the top of your knuckles, right by the diamond.

You let your fingers slip out of his palm and shifted your arm to sling them both around his neck. With a careful movement, you motioned in his direction, his hands on your waist guiding you until you settled on his lap, eye to eye with him.

“Will you love and cherish me always?” With your thumbs, you tenderly brushed over the back of his neck. “Whatever will happen?”

“I will always love and cherish my wife and queen,” he replied. “So please, marry me. And this is the only time I will ever beg again outside of the bedroom.”

He knew that you had always been meant for more than a silly, fragile doll of earth. And maybe, your family provided acceptance to the same extent, but you wanted pomegranates and death, and you craved the cruel shadows of the night. He saw more in you than a corrupted child of light, he saw a queen worthy of reigning alongside him. And you would gladly let him believe so.

“Yes,” you whispered before you leaned into his lips. “I will.”

The kiss was chaste and innocent, a stark contrast to the previous night, sealing a proposal you had never dreamed of receiving. To be loved and cherished until all eternity… you thought, despite the equal darkness in your heart, you could give all of this to him too. And eternity by his side didn’t sound so excruciating anymore.

“What is it?” Jaehyun halted in the middle of the kiss to look directly at you, his palms steadying either side of your face. “Is something wrong?”

You shook your head, taken aback by a warm feeling that suddenly spread from your lower stomach to the very tips of every limp. “Nothing.” Your fingers massaged the back of his head, his soft hair slipping through the gaps between them. “When are we getting married?”

“So impatient already?” He narrowed his eyes and tilted the corners of his lips up to an evil grin. “If you want to repeat last night, all you have to do is ask, anytime you want, anywhere you want.”

“As promising as it sounds… I’m serious,” you assured him. “When can we get married?”

“I stand by my answer, anytime you want.”

“Then tomorrow?”

“As you wish, my wife.”

____

You married the god of the underworld on a day when the sky was exceptionally red. Or so it seemed to you as your lips had been painted in the same promising color that resembled the dangerous pomegranate seeds as well.

You stood in a tiny, open chapel forged of stone in the middle of the mountains you always watched from Jaehyun’s chamber’s window where you had resided the past nights. Donned in black garments of the finest fabrics instead of pastels, you were facing and holding each other’s hands, the priestess in a white tunic and veil that barely revealed her face reading from a book to you that you had never seen in churches on earth. 

You didn’t have witnesses, there were no family members or friends to celebrate this special day with you. Under these circumstances, it would have been the saddest day in a young woman’s life. But not for you. Of course you wished your mother and sister could have been here too to share these feelings with you, but they also wouldn’t have understood.

Why you did this. Why you needed to do this.

“I do,” you heard Jaehyun say first.

This was where you belonged. At the end of the day, you had still found your way into the arms of the darkest god in the entire realms.

“I do,” you repeated after the priestess, barely a whisper, but still strong enough to be carried by the breeze to everyone’s ear.

You met Jaehyun’s confident smile, and you only now grasped the fact that you barely remembered the last time you had been happy to this extent back there on earth. It had been a long, long time.

When your lips closed around your husband’s, marking his mouth with stains of the same redness as the sky and the pomegranates that bound you to this place, you claimed him as yours just like he claimed you as his.

Two equals from different breeds, but from now on of the same value under this red sky.

____

“Congratulations on your wedding. I was a bit sad that I wasn't invited.”

“Nobody was invited, Taeyong,” Jaehyun sighed. “Why did you come here anyway?”

“I have a message for your wife.” The sun god jumped down the stairs until he stood in front of you both, but only eyeing you. “Talk about timing, you have just gotten married and I will have to separate you again.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned, suddenly very wary.

“I have a message for you from the god of the sea. Since he was banned by your now husband from ever entering the underworld again and your husband was banned from entering the sea too, he sent me as a messenger.”

That statement didn’t only cause you to freeze, but Jaehyun as well. “What does he want from her?”

The few things you had heard about the sea god so far hadn’t been really pleasant. What could he possibly want from you?

“He has been reached out to by someone who wants to get you back,” Taeyong declared carefully.

You shook your head. “That’s impossible. No one from my family can come and there is no other person who would care enough for me to do that.”

“Why would that be the case?” Taeyong asked.

“Her mother is limping gravely and her sister is still a child. She doesn’t have other living relatives,” Jaehyun reasoned for you.

You were grateful for his support as you were having struggles digesting Taeyong’s information, having the fact pass by you that you had never actually told Jaehyun anything about your family yourself by then.

“Well, someone is there who you matter very much to. And they want to take you back with them. A distant relative? A friend?”

“It must be my mother or sister. It must.” You were petrified while two pairs of eyes laid on you, both gods lost for words too.

The tears that spilled from your eyes shortly later weren’t tears of happiness or relief. They were tears of guilt, because you felt neither. You couldn’t move but shook with your whole body against your will at the same time. What eventually settled in your stomach was the feeling of disappointment.

Disappointment, because whoever had come they had succeeded in that task - all to no avail.

Taeyong touched your back in a comforting gesture. “I’ll accompany you.”

“No,” Jaehyun cut in and took you into an embrace in which you couldn’t stop trembling too, even though you weren’t cold. “Let her digest that information first, and then we’ll figure out what to do.”

Despite the stream of tears that clouded your vision, you still brought yourself to shake your head. “N-no,” you sobbed. “I-I will go now. I have to go n-now.”

“The horse is already saddled,” Taeyong supported you. “Don’t worry, I will safely escort her and bring her back to you, Jaehyun, you have my word.”

“You want to do it now?” your husband asked you carefully, eyes full of worry.

You nodded determinedly, voice steadier now. “Yes. They came all the way here, I owe them. Whatever they risked, I owe them. I cannot let another minute go reactionless to waste.”

“I understand.”

Not much later, you had hurried to your own room, Ara helping you peel out of your wedding dress and changing into a comfortable, dark gown, more suited for riding and traveling. You didn’t want to lose much time as Taeyong was already waiting outside, so you hastened along with the servant until your husband stepped into the room right before you were about to leave again.

“You’re dismissed, Ara,” Jaehyun said and she nodded, quietly departing and shutting the door behind her.

“What’s he like?” you asked dryly, tears now having entirely subsided, but fear only growing. “The god of the sea, I mean.”

Your husband turned mute for a bit too long before he replied discreetly, yet clearly enough with much pain in his voice, “I wish you wouldn’t have to go.”

“I must.”

“I know. It’s just so unfortunate it happened on our wedding day.”

You felt his breath hitting the parting of your hair when he stood close to you and eventually hugged again which you instinctively reciprocated. You didn’t want to leave him either - but, again, you must. If only he could come with you, you would feel safer and more protected. Even though Taeyong offered probably the same amount of comfort, it would have been something entirely else to have your own husband by your side.

“Remember, you’re the queen of the underworld now,” Jaehyun whispered into your ear. “He doesn’t stand a chance against you. By title alone, you’re mightier than him.”

“I’m still a human and mortal after all,” you expressed your worry and buried your face in his chest, fingers clutching hard into the fabric of his shirt. “He could keep me captivated, blackmail you or just end me with one single grip of his hand. I don’t stand a chance against him.”

“If he dares to lay a finger on you,” Jaehyun continued with an underlying groan that indicated he was suppressing long planted anger, “I will have the permission to end him. I promise to you, if you’re not back by the day after tomorrow, I will tear every single realm apart just to find you and take you back with me.”

In the security of his embrace, you smiled, more at ease now. “If he won’t let me go, I will fight my way back to you. Through every single realm.”

“That is exactly what my queen and wife would say.”

The proudness in his voice made you proud too, and suddenly you weren’t so scared anymore. The promises you had given to each other in the secrecy of your room was sealed with one last kiss that was dripping with longing over the lost wedding night before you got on Taeyong’s horse and rode off with him into the fallen darkness.

____

“So, you’re the wife of the king of the underworld?” 

The man in front of you motioned his pupils up and down, inspecting you from head to toe. You couldn’t pinpoint the look in his eyes, but it was everything except kindness that got mirrored in them. It was mostly mockery that bordered disgust even.

“I’m not only his wife, I’m his queen and the queen of the underworld, so you will address me as such.”

He raised his dark brow that was of the same color as his hair - petrol blue. In comparison to your husband, the king, he was a bit shorter and of a more slender figure, his aura far more sinister, nothing that would draw you to him like what had drawn you to your husband at the very beginning.

“Very well, human queen.” He grinned, his grin sharp and his smile crooked. “Does your oblivious husband know you killed your own father and only accepted his marriage proposal to get spared from the torture fields?”

Your blood froze.

“I see, that’s enough of an answer. When I heard your father went away a decade ago, but I couldn’t track him down, I found it very suspicious, so I did a background check on you. What came to light truly fascinated me.” He put his index finger on his chin. “You and the god of the underworld are so similar. That you accepted his marriage proposal solely for that purpose, I only guessed. But I know you stupid, greedy humans. You’re all the same. In comparison to you, your sister is very talkative though as she had come all the way down here by herself.”

Your jaw dropped. “My… sister?” You were conflicted about what to do first as you did everything at once, gasping, breathing and talking simultaneously. “My sister is here? Alone? My sister can't be here, she’s practically still a child!”

“She’s very mature for her age,” the sea god explained, partially smugly, partially matter-of-factly. “She reached out to me herself through a summoner that she had tracked down in a nearby village and even offered her life, wanted me to trade hers for yours. Unfortunately, that was when I found out you ate our food already. What a pity.” He let out a long sigh and touched his forehead as though annoyed in a phony manner. “And now that you’re even queen of the underworld, I’m not allowed to go through with my plans.” When he fixed his gaze back on you, his expression had some kind of madness to it that caused goose bumps to appear all over your body, and not the pleasant ones. “But that doesn’t mean that I cannot still have a bit of fun. Let’s see how much you both love each other.”

The undersea palace was equally impressive as the dark palace, the entire building forged of corals of different colors, lightning coming from the sun that was still able to make its way through the entire ocean’s depth until the last rays reached down here. It seemed like a lively and vibrant place with the residents also breathing air as water was kept outside, many mortals roaming around in colorful attires that reminded you of another part of the earth. The palace was like an own world in the middle of the undersea, but it was exactly this colorful and lively world that you would make the worst memory with.

The sea god suddenly spread out his arms like wings. Behind him, where a mass of deep blue curtain had adorned the back wall of the throne hall until now, a glass window revealed itself when the thick fabric parted, presenting the foggish undersea through a hole as big as a human’s house. The view was striking and intimidating at the same time, and you would have appreciated the sight for a bit longer if it weren’t for your sister who you found swimming like a fish in an aquarium behind the glass, a tiny dot on a huge painting. 

Her long hair was floating around her head like a halo, her skirts spread like a summer breeze had lifted them up, and it would all have been a heavenly painting with the fishes swimming across the picture if it weren’t for the look of horror in her eyes that she directed at you from the moment the curtains parted.

“I heard,” the sea god pulled you out of your petrifying realizations, “humans can only live approximately three minutes without air. How long will your sister make it? I think she’s already been in there for more than a minute.”

You panicked, and for a few heartbeats, you had to deal with a blackout about how to proceed, how to save your sister. Luckily, rationality kicked back in and you acted on implementing your first idea. The sea god watched you running around while continuously wearing his mocking smirk, heading into different directions in search of something that could break the glass.

You heard him laugh, his petrol blue strands shaking in the same rhythm as his dancing shoulders when you took a chair into your hands and dragged it to the massive glass window behind the dais. You were of a natural build, but that didn’t mean you were weak for a woman. Years of working on the fields finally paid off when you heaved the chair up and slammed it against the glass, over and over again.

The more often the chair came in contact with the surface, the weaker your arms and the bigger your panic grew as time passed uncontrollably and you knew that soon, it would be too late.

“It’s not human glass. A chair cannot break it. It was amusing watching you though, but now it gets boring,” the sea god snickered and yawned. “Humans… such imbeciles.”

You hadn’t noticed how tears started streaming down your face, hot and wet, until you desperately laid your palms against the glass, trying to make out your sister’s body. But at this point, she had already floated so far away, you could barely spot her anymore, perhaps mainly also because of your tear-smeared vision.

You sank onto your knees, hands sliding down the glass as you felt hope shrinking the further you lowered your position, until you were a crying mess on the ground. Your sister would now die and it was entirely your fault - because you were so selfish and only thought about saving yourself. Just like back then with your father.

But suddenly, your hiccups stopped in unison with your tears when you felt something prick against your right thigh, and you gasped when a fact dawned on you: There was still hope. Before you had ridden off, Jaehyun had strapped an item around your leg that you had shortly forgotten about.

A knife.

“Take this with you,” your husband had said. “It’s made from the strongest material to ever exist, in this and the human world. It cannot kill an immortal, but it can break through every surface imaginable.”

Like he had seen coming, because he had been in a feud with the sea god for a long time already. Like he had wanted to prepare you for every possible situation that could occur. 

The moment the glass broke with only a single strike of you and water mercilessly swamped into the hall, you just thought about how much you loved your husband and that it was only thanks to him that you were now able to hold your sister in your arms again - breathing and alive.

And that you hadn’t killed another family member and would never need to again.

____

Your little sister was shivering in your arms, but you tried your best to keep her warm with your coat while you were wearing Taeyong’s as you were equally cold after the throne hall in the undersea palace had been entirely swamped.

“I’m tired,” your sister yawned.

It had been an almost impossible battle to get her out of there with the sea god going on a rampage after you broke the glass, and without Taeyong’s help, it wouldn’t have been successful at all, but here you were now, both exhausted and injured, but alive. That was all that mattered.

“Not long anymore,” you assured her.

Not long anymore and you would be back at the dark palace. It had only been two days, but the further you approached the location, the more your anticipation grew to finally see your husband again. You hadn’t been aware of how much you actually missed and longed for him until the moment you felt him by your side when you saved your sister - with his help.

“Where are we going, sis?”

Taeyong was controlling the horse from the back while you and your sister were seated in front of him. You slung your arms tighter around her before you answered,

“My home.”

“But your home is with me,” she protested weakly before dozing off again, and you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her the truth just yet.

“She can also live here, you know,” Taeyong told you quietly from behind. “If Jaehyun breaks the bargain she made with the sea god, she will be able to stay.”

“Her heart is not as dark as mine, her past not as tarnished, her future not as corrupted. She doesn’t belong here,” you defended her. “I’m darkness and she’s light. She belongs to where flowers grow, where spring returns and where she can see the sun rise every day.”

“You’re also everything that she is, do you know that?”

“You heard the sea god talking about my background. I don’t have an excuse for the things that I did to our father. If I don’t belong to the torture fields, who does?”

“Your father,” was Taeyong’s matter-of-fact reply. 

You added, “And I would have to follow him.”

“That is not true,” he disagreed. “I’m not Jaehyun, but I’m positive that this is not true. He wouldn’t have sent you to the torture fields if you had died one day on earth as a human. I know your entire story now, and he wouldn’t have done that.”

“Even if that were possible…” you smiled sadly into the slowly falling night, “how would my husband react if he knew that I had initially agreed to this marriage just to avert my possible destiny?”

“You only wanted to do what you had to do in order to survive. That’s normal. That’s not even human only, that’s instinct we all carry within us.”

“I don’t want him to send me away,” you admitted, voice cracking and making way for tears that threatened to spill behind your eyes. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here and only because of him, not because of my position or my title.”

With your front teeth sinking into your bottom lip and nearly making it bleed, you held yourself back from crying the nth time today. 

“Sounds like you married him for other reasons as well,” Taeyong concluded with a lighter tone in his voice. “In the end, isn’t that all that matters now?”

“I don’t want him to regret choosing me,” you added hesitantly, stroking your sister’s damp hair as the fist spires of the dark palace came into sight, even in the settling darkness.

“Jaehyun has been the god of the underworld for an eternity already. As I said, never has he ever made a wrong decision. He has risked everything to get you. All you have to be is as courageous and confident as him, and believe in your love.”

Love…? 

Was it even possible to love someone you didn’t entirely know?

The last part of the way was covered in silence, and you expected your husband to be already asleep by now as night had long fallen. But you were able to make out the shape of his body even from miles afar. He stood in front of the gate as though he had known exactly when you would return - or had been standing there the past two days and nights.

You didn’t even have to ride all the way to the gates. Jaehyun came running in your direction, his crown falling off his head while sprinting, but he didn’t seem to care about that. 

“My wife,” he greeted you when you slid from the horse and into his arms, welcomed back into the darkness to where you belonged, but that suddenly didn’t feel so cold and threatening anymore. It felt warm. Just like home. 

Not “little rose”, not “my queen”. 

But “my wife” you were now.

You couldn’t lie to him any longer.

____

You gazed at your husband who was sleeping soundly next to you. Even though night had not given way to daytime yet, you couldn’t sleep anymore, too many thoughts keeping you restless and awake. 

Upon your return, you and your sister had been examined by a physician, but to your both luck, you had escaped with only minor injuries such as scratches from the broken glass. Yet, you had demanded for her to be observed the entire night. Initially, you had wanted to stay by her side yourself, but the physician had required absolute quietness and bedrest for her as she would sleep for many more hours, so you had decided to stay by Jaehyun’s side in the meantime.

For what seemed like hours, you had talked. And reliving the entire story in your tellings had you crying in your husband’s arms once again, partly because of the horror, partly because of the relief that you had been able to save your sister.

“She cannot stay here for long,” Jaehyun had made clear after comforting you until all your tears had subsided. “Part of her bargain was giving up one year of her life for every day she stays in the godly realms, so she has to recover fast and hurry home.”

How were you supposed to tell him that this wasn’t the only thing you were worried about? Now that your sister was here to take you back, but with you having already eaten the pomegranate seeds, you didn’t have a choice anymore. Deep inside, you deemed yourself lucky that you didn’t even have to make one in the first place afterwards.

Because that would mean that you would have had to hurt someone consciously. And it wouldn’t have been your husband.

Which was why you had decided to come clean with him now. 

You were sitting next to him, stretching out your hand and gently tracing the outline of his jaw. He was so ethereally beautiful, it nearly made your breath catch again. But that wasn’t the reason why you wanted to stay by his side forever. 

It was because, after living a quarter of a human lifetime, you had finally found the place where you belonged. You had found your counterpart, your partner for eternity, your equal, your twin flame. The one who accepted every edge of your soul, no matter how frayed it was. At least, out of all mortals and immortals, he was willing to.

But would he still be if he had explored every last part of the darkness inside of you?

“Why did you stop?”

You hadn’t noticed how you had halted your motions, your fingers coming to a stop right under Jaehyun’s bottom lip. 

“Good morning,” you whispered with a smile, and he kissed the tip of your index finger.

“It’s long not morning yet.” He looked at you, but he wasn’t mirroring your expression. “What are you so sad for?”

So, he had seen right through you already. You gulped. “I had a bad dream,” you said. 

“Tell me about it.”

“I dreamed that you left me.”

Jaehyun let out a light-hearted chuckle that was still hoarse from sleep. “Why would I ever do that?”

“Because I might not be the person you think I am. The more you get to know me…”

But he didn’t let you finish, which you gladly accepted, because you were unsure about how to end the sentence anyway. “In my entire lifetime, I have never made one decision that I regretted, not even after an eternity. And you’re one of them.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

What your husband said next made you possibly love him even more. He didn’t tell you the usual phrases that any man would tell their wives in order to silence them for they got too annoyed. Instead, he said, 

“You’re the queen of the underworld now. You have to believe in yourself first.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that in your own words how much you have come to love him though. Instead, you bent down to him and covered his mouth with yours in a passionate kiss.

“You know, we were never able to celebrate our wedding night.”

“You mean what happened in the hallway earlier didn’t count?” he wondered with feigned innocence as though he hadn’t been the one ripping your clothes apart the moment you were finally alone and hastily took you on the stairs right there and then.

You tugged on the hem of your nightgown, sliding the thin fabric over your head and simultaneously motioning towards Jaehyun until you were sitting naked on his lap. “That was your present for me. Here’s my present for you.”

The way your husband moaned into your ear when you were hovering over him shortly later, your hips coming down on his in a steady rhythm and your nipples grazing over his muscular chest, made you wonder if this was the last time that you would be able to hear him utter sounds like this. 

You were bouncing up and down the mattress, knees already strained as you leaned backwards and braced yourself against his shins with your hands, arching your spine in such a way to give him full access to your whole body.

And he did worship it, every single inch, every part you considered a human flaw. His hands trailed upwards, stopping by your breasts and kneading them gently as he met your hip motions with thrusts that hit all your sensitive spots inside through the curved angle. 

Your face was turned against the ceiling as you decided to close your eyes, your hair cascading past your shoulder and winding with each rock of your groins. Only a little longer, you swore to yourself. For only a little longer, you wanted to stop time and lived in this moment as long as possible.

But your body was human even though you couldn’t age in the godly realms, it painfully reminded you of that when Jaehyun dropped his palm and his fingers landed on your clit. You didn’t have the same stamina, nor the same endurance to prolong and go on for hours, so when you came undone right above your husband with a scream, body and soul, you felt betrayed by your own remaining humanity.

You fully rode out your orgasm, but as Jaehyun made a move to take the lead now and flip you around, you pinned him in that position by locking his arms in place with your hands. Even though he was able to change positions easily, he didn’t, and having you dominating turned him on so much, it didn’t take you much more until he cum in long spurts all inside of you himself.

“I never believed you were a virgin in the first place,” Jaehyun breathed under you. “But that you were capable of doing these kinds of things, I didn’t believe either. I’m impressed.”

“There is so much more to me you won’t believe I’m capable of,” you said, gaze stoically directed at the wall behind him, not moving from his lap to cuddle with him like usual, and he noticed.

“Didn’t we talk about this?” Jaehyun brushed it off, assuming this was what withheld you from coming closer to him. “Peccadillos.”

You inhaled deeply, then lowered your gaze, hiding behind strands of your loose hair, because that was how cowardly you actually were. “Ten years ago, I killed my father in a cold blooded murder,” you finally confessed. “Now, do you still want me as your wife?”

____

Jaehyun found you much later in one of the endless corridors as you had run away right after your confession. You had roamed through the palace in the meantime, at a loss about where to continue from here, and because you were afraid of his reaction. After all, you were always good at running away from things, no matter whether they were crimes or feelings.

As redness crested the horizon, you were leaning out of the window, guilty, but simultaneously full of relief to still see another dayrise.

“You can think of a punishment fit for my crime,” you offered to Jaehyun without turning around. “I won’t mind.” 

Whatever it might be, it couldn’t be as horrific as suffering on the torture fields for eternity. At least, he couldn’t punish you with that. That was all you had wanted, wasn’t it? 

“I cannot judge over my equal,” your husband replied monotonously. “Only the god who reigns over all godly realms can.”

“Oh, so it’s like this.” You had thought you were oh so smart to trick yourself into staying in the underworld as a mortal only to find out that there was possibly a much more gruesome punishment than what Jaehyun would have had in store for you. “I was wrong in the end.”

All this time, you had had this secret locked away in a chest that you had thrown into the deepest abyss of your heart, pretending it was whole when it was frayed on every edge. Once you unlocked the chest that you had sealed shut for nearly a decade, the darkness that was kept within would consume all of you. Perhaps, right now was the perfect time to face it.

“When I was much younger,” you began deliberately, staring out of the window while sensing your husband approaching you with deliberate steps, “and my little sister barely a toddler, my father came home one night, totally drunk. At that point, he had been drinking almost every day for a few years already. What he earned from his cabinetwork and from what we sold in crops, vegetables and fruits, he spent it satisfying his addiction. My mother was always very careful to put us to sleep before he came home, but I was already old enough to witness with my own eyes and ears what was going on each night. Every morning, my mother came out of the bedroom with another bruise showing on her body when my father had long gone out again. That certain night though, he was thrashing around furniture, even waking my baby sister up who I then carried around. When I opened the door, he shoved the table against my mother, hitting her legs with full force and rendering her unconscious. Upon seeing us, he snatched my little sister out of my arms.”

“Please.” Jaehyun’s attire made a rustling sound and then stilled, but he didn’t reach out to touch you. Outwardly, you reacted as though you didn’t care. You didn’t want to care. Inwardly, you longed for his fingers traveling over your thighs just one more time. But he was willing to give you the space you needed. “You don-.”

“That night, I killed him,” you cut him off, because you knew that if you didn’t do it now, you might never come so far again. “When he didn’t want to let go of my sister and give her back to me, preparing himself to do to her what he did to our mother, I took a knife and stabbed him many, many times. My sister’s crying was ringing in my ears long after he was dead, but I was still stabbing. I managed to calm my baby sister down and put her back to sleep. I tended my mother’s wounds and also brought her to bed before I took my father’s corpse and buried it deep in the woods. I spent half of the night digging his grave, the other half cleaning the wood off his blood. The next day, I told everyone I chased him off and he would never come back to hurt them again. The relief in their eyes made up for everything. They were so happy they were finally able to live in peace. But me? I have never found peace. I sacrificed my own happiness for my family. And I don’t regret it. I was only a teenager when I made that decision.”

With every syllable, you felt the darkness eating up a bigger part of your heart, and it wouldn’t be long until it had digested the entire organ. That was what you had always been afraid of, but it was also very relieving on the other hand. There was no pain anymore, just deep satisfaction, indicating a hint of regret for not having done it sooner.

Jaehyun didn’t say anything afterwards, but you were prepared for everything that would happen now. At least, you could move on, at peace with yourself after a decade.

“My soul might be dark, but I was not suffering. I was only afraid of what the darkness would do to me if I didn’t keep it locked, under control. That I would hurt more people, especially my family. But I would do it over and over again if this is the only way to keep my family safe from monsters. Even if this monster is me. But you have to understand…” You finally shifted around to your husband, revealing a face wet from tears. “When I ate the seeds, I had already decided to be your queen. But not for the same purpose for which I have decided to be your wife. When I decided to be your queen, it was because of the fear of ending on the torture fields myself if I ever got the chance to return to the mortal world. I thought I didn’t deserve to continue living on earth alongside pure people like my mother and sister, because I’m so filthy and corrupted. It was for my own protection, I was so scared after visiting the fields, that’s why I ate the seeds.”

You fell down to your knees and the thin fabric of your nightgown couldn’t cushion the pain that you felt when you smashed against the marble. But you didn’t care. The only thing important to you now was to not lose your husband. You wanted to fight for him so that if he were to let you go, you could say you had been finally courageous and confident enough to have fought for your love.

Yes, love.

“But when I decided to be your wife too, it was because I whole-heartedly wanted to stay by your side, because I-” The following confession twisted your guts, because you had never believed you would be able to say this to someone or even feel a sliver of it one day. But it was true, every single syllable. “Because I love you.”

For a long moment, nothing happened, only your whimpers and sobs filling in the silence that stretched in the hallway, and the more you waited for a reaction, the more agonized you turned to the point of coming to accept the truth that you might have lost your husband forever. You cried even more.

“I finally understand.” You then felt Jaehyun’s fingertips on your skin, wandering along your shoulder and eventually resting there. “All those years, you dedicated yourself to a simple, peaceful lifestyle to conceal the bloody tumult that you’ve been through. In contrast to your flowery, colorful appearance, your soul was dark and suffering.”

The tip of his index finger then traveled to your chin and lifted it up, and the man whose eyes you locked with were neither your husband here in the palace nor the god of the underworld in the hall of judgment. Somehow they were both. 

“If possible, I might love you even more now,” he said before he kissed your tear-stained lips.

____

You shouldn’t sit in the hall of judgment the same day when your sister still wasn’t awake, but there was something you had to be shown according to Jaehyun, which was why he had ridden with you all across the deadlands again.

Today, there was no soul awaiting their judgment, so you wondered why you had been brought here in the first place. Painfully, the truth dawned on you though as Jaehyun urged you to stand in front of the dais and he took his own seat on his throne, the one in which you were supposed to sit empty this time.

You were the one to be judged.

“There was something I have only informed you shortly about the first time you were here,” your husband then opened up as he settled in his throne. “The fact that none of the souls entering the hall has to tell me their backstories. It would consume too much time and they would be able to conceal parts for they cannot straight up lie. I know their entire lives, histories and stories upon entering, they only tell me their point of view, their opinion. And…” He took a meaningful, long pause. “With every soul, I mean every human, dead or alive.”

You stared at him for a moment, your brain processing what then washed over you in shocking realization all at once. With your hand, you covered your mouth, swallowing a gasp. “You always knew?!”

Only then, you were able to relive the scene from three days ago when Taeyong broke down the news to you that someone from your family had come to get you. Jaehyun had known about the circumstances which made you believe that none of them were able to come down here despite you never having told him anything about your mother’s condition and your sister’s age yourself. But back then, you had been so stressed, it had totally passed by you. He had indeed always known.

“It’s true, a decade ago on earth you made a drastic decision to self-judge and rob your father of his life, but you didn’t bring this fate over him. I did when I decided to throw him onto the torture fields. I did the exact same thing as you. So why would I punish you for something that hadn’t only protected you, but also the people you love the most?”

For that, you didn’t have an answer. That your actions could be justifiable, you had always talked yourself into. But you had never been able to shake off the shadow that sometimes crossed your mother’s face when someone mentioned your father or your sister getting bullied for not having one. They believed he was still alive, but didn’t fear he would ever return. If they knew the entire truth, it wouldn’t change anything about their mindset other than seeing you as an entirely different person.

Yes, your lives had gotten considerably better without your father in regards to the living circumstances as he had barely financially and emotionally supported your family anyway. But by the looks of the village people, it had only brought you shame and misfortune to live like this as no one had wanted to marry your handicapped, single mother again - or even you. Subconsciously, you perpetually felt guilty for that you had to live the way you used to live. This all, you also told Jaehyun, and he only shook his head.

“You cannot blame them for feeling this way like they cannot blame you for saving their lives. What if your father was still alive? This is a scenario nobody can answer to rightfully. You couldn’t have sat around, waiting until he would change. Perhaps, you would have lost more than one person. Even when the tiniest part inside of them blames you for not having him around anymore, even if they knew the entire truth, you don’t have to blame yourself too and make amends by playing the commendable child when there is so much more to you.”

“Much… more?”

“You were leading the life of a good daughter, always obedient, always loving. You grew flowers in hope they could conceal the darkness in your heart. But the truth is…” Jaehyun arose from his throne, carefully stepping down the stairs while keeping his hands hidden behind his back, “with the darkness that had settled inside you that day, you would have never been able to live a fulfilling life on earth, that was why you had decided to stay with me in the first place, not because you were scared. You were never afraid of me or anything else down here. You always only wanted to believe that because your mortal side couldn’t justify your true feelings. The moment I saw the true you, I realized I couldn’t let you go. Everything I said, none of that has ever been a lie, I always knew who you were.”

Was that true? Had he seen right through you from the very beginning? The day you had entered the hall from the very first time was the day he had proposed the throne to you without a second thought.

“You fought hard against this, against us, because you thought you owed your life to your mother and sister as you might have ruined theirs to the point of nearly forgetting that you can bloom in your very own way when you don’t dedicate your life to someone else. Of course you love them, but be brave and start loving yourself equally as much. Just like I do.”

For a split second, you were asking yourself whether you had made the wrong decision to eat the pomegranate seeds out of your own free will. But that was what it all boiled down to: Everything you had done happened out of your own free will that you had always been possessing as a human, even here, even now still.

“Listen,” Jaehyun spoke gently when he finally stood in front of you, on the same level, as equals again. “To be my queen is not a duty just any human is capable of. It’s difficult, straining for body and soul, and requires a lot of self-control to not lose your mind. I wouldn’t have proposed this position to you if I hadn’t been sure you harbored all that. Your story has only assured me of the fact that in you, I wouldn’t only find a wife, but someone who thinks and acts the same as me. So today, I pronounce your sentence.”

Even though his words had been sweet and everything you had been longing to hear, the last statement made you shudder. Would he still send you away?

“My sentence for you is to be my queen, to stay by my side and reign alongside me always. Will you accept it?”

You felt something getting placed on the very top of your head. When you raised your arm and came in contact with the object, you touched something heavy and spiky - your very own crown, made of darkness and flowers that would never wither. You had exchanged flowers and pastels for flames and darkness.

“As I said,” your husband smiled proudly this time, “never in my entire lifespan have I ever made a wrong decision. You chose me. You love me. This is real, not the seven silly seeds you ate sealed the deal, but your love for me.”

The king of the underworld had accepted you. He was both the kindest and cruelest thing that had ever happened to you, even if others wouldn’t perceive your tale like this. He had seen the darkness that resided inside you demanded its own throne, and he had shown you how a love like yours could turn even the coldest realm into a warm home.

You had never been afraid. You had never been held captive. You had voluntarily stayed. Why would you have cared about being a human bride when you could have been an eternal queen all along? 

Oh, how you wished for everyone to know that the god of darkness who you could also call your husband, had the silkiest hair that felt especially soft when he was on his knees, coaxing spring from inside of you with your thighs wrapped around his neck. 

____

“But I don’t want to leave without you,” your sister sobbed and wrapped her arms around you just a bit tighter. “Why can’t you come with me?”

By now, you weren’t able to hold your tears back anymore either, and you just cried in each other’s arms. The horse was already settled and stood by the main gate not far from you. Taeyong had volunteered to bring her back and was waiting there. 

“As I told you,” you explained patiently for the nth time to your little sister, “I cannot leave.”

“Did you truly eat the seeds of your own free will?” she asked warily. 

You nodded. “I did.”

You weren’t able to bring yourself to tell her the entire truth. One day, if you would ever get the possibility, when she was only a bit older and your paths crossed again, you promised to yourself that you would. 

“But how could you! He took you from the earth to a world where not a single living thing can grow and live!”

“Sister, have you seen that every single flower on earth withers away?” You pried her from you and flashed an encouraging smile, all through the veil of blurring goodbye tears. “Where is the difference? Our garden might only be small, but whatever grows there blossoms to its full potential, just like I can.”

“I don’t understand, sis.”

“You don’t have to understand. You only have to believe me.”

“What will I tell mother?” she wanted to know. “She misses you.”

“Tell her I miss her too. And that she’s going to be fine. You’re both going to be fine, even without me.”

“Sis, when will I see you again?”

Another wave of sadness rolled over you, but you swallowed it down this time and brushed over your sister’s hair in a reassuring gesture. “I don’t know.”

“How will I live life without you?”

“Stay kind, confident and courageous, always believe in yourself. After all, you made it all the way down here by yourself only. I wouldn’t have been able to, but you did all that. Do you know how proud you can be of yourself, sis? You’re going to grow up to be such a beautiful, smart and brave woman. I’m certain about that, and I’m already so proud of you, don’t you ever forget that.”

“Actually,” a manly voice interrupted you, and you both simultaneously turned to the side to watch your husband speak, “you don’t have to worry about that, dear. Your sister will come with you.”

“What?” you both called out, also simultaneously, but the fine difference lied in either of your tones.

While your sister’s was full of joy, you barely brought out a syllable that wasn’t dripping with worry and fear. Why would Jaehyun suggest something like that? Had he already forgotten everything he had said to you since your wedding day?

But the smile that spread across your husband’s lips was full of happiness like your sister’s with no hint of grudge as he approached you and placed his palms on each side of your face, looking at you with much love as opposed to his statement. You didn’t understand. 

“Why are you sending me away?” you wanted to scream, but only brought out a whisper, fingers clutching onto the hem of his shirt. “Please don’t send me away!”

“I’m not sending you away.” His thumbs caressed your cheeks, and you only noticed then that something had changed in his eyes. It wasn’t a look or a feeling that had been there before, and not weighing on the negative side either. In fact, nothing had been replaced or exchanged, only something slightly different that you couldn’t pinpoint. Perhaps, it was all in your mind after all. “I’m sending you to live with your mother and sister each year for six months, spring throughout summer.”

Your brain was still processing when your sister was already expressing her joy through little bumps and screams that gradually turned into a singsong about how you were returning home.

“Don’t worry,” Jaehyun calmed you down. “You are the bones of my spine, the ground beneath my feet, the air I’m breathing in. How could I possibly ever live without you again?”

“But-!”

He silenced you by putting his index finger on your lip. “Every year, when the first flowers bloom, you will be able to return to earth to live with your family. When you see the first leaves falling, that is when I will take you back to the underworld. You will bring spring, bursting with light, and leave with winter, dreary and cold. Does this duality fascinate you too?”

You had so many questions, first and foremost what he traded your freedom for, but you also didn’t have time to ask any of them anymore as every minute that you lingered in the underworld robbed a sliver of your sister’s lifespan. 

You expressed your gratitude through hasty kisses with his arms slung around your back regardless of the presence of the other two as these would need to get you through the next months. 

“I don’t want you to feel lonely again when I’m gone,” you said to him.

“Don’t worry about that,” he reassured you. “I was patiently waiting half an eternity for you. I can wait another few months every year as long as you always come back to me.”

From now on, you could see yourself as a child of spring, wearing pastel colors and flowers in your hair on earth, and when returning home that was literally the underworld, donned all in black, you would pass sentence on lost souls in the hall of judgment as the queen of hell.

Yes, such duality fascinated you very much.

“Will you wait for me?” you asked when you were seated on the horse’s back with your sister in front and Taeyong behind you.

“Even if it takes you an eternity to come back to me.”

You leaned down, your husband embracing your cheeks on either side and giving you a long kiss that was supposed to last a few months in the moment a breeze came by and lifted the strands of your hair up in a swirl.

He trembled under the last gaze you threw at him before you rode off.

It wasn’t a punishment, it was a reward - for you to see your mother and sister again, and live where flowers grew and never see them wither again.

After all, you’d come back this time, every time.

Out of your own free will.

_____

Jaehyun had known he should have regretted that certain forenoon of hasty decisions on earth. He had sensed you before he even saw you, soft, warm, light - everything he needed his future queen to be, so he didn’t look further as he had gotten spared only one day.

There, in your mother’s garden, sun on your nose and wind in your hair, enveloped in the intense scent of yet to bloom flowers, it made even the hardest of hearts unharden, and suddenly the god of the underworld was only a man with an uncontrollable longing for your innocent sweetness.

“She’s coming back today,” Taeyong said, pulling Jaehyun out of his thoughts. “I’ll pick her up from the river and bring her here.”

“Very well,” Jaehyun answered, trying to downplay his excitement to welcome back his wife after so many months.

But his friend wouldn’t stop budging. “So, when are you going to tell her? What you traded her freedom for?”

“Possibly never, this is not something she will easily find out anyway. It’s not like I traded being a king, a god. We’ll be fine.”

“As long as no one wants to see you dead,” Taeyong stated with rolling eyes.

“Then let’s hope we’ll live alongside in peace,” the king answered dryly and his friend only gave him a long, last sigh in response before riding off to his duty.

Jaehyun had searched for a fitting wife for so long, sick of isolation and darkness, but no one living in the godly realms matched with what he had been looking for. Every resident was involved in an endless game of rivalry, too cunning, too vile to make his already hard life easier. He needed someone simple, timid and narrow-minded who would gladly accept what a god could offer to them without a single complaint. A human.

But the person he had chosen wasn’t all that. In a garden full of colorful plants, he had plucked the most dangerous flower of all. She was as beautiful as a rose, lulling him with her pure appearance and sugary scent, but her thorns stung and could cause him great harm. 

Even on that day, he hadn’t made a wrong decision, though it had looked like it in the very beginning as it all boiled down to either his instincts, luck or coincidence. But somehow, he had ended up combining all three and chose her.

His human guest only needed time, he had thought when she fought him like a panther in a cage upon their first meeting, so he had given her a few days to adjust and then intended to break down the advantages for her, hoping she would finally settle here in peace and then do for what he had brought her here: offering him company in all senses.

When she had walked into the dining room that one evening though, in a pastel silk dress he had chosen for his wife himself, looking and smelling like a freshly bloomed flower, but with eyes so fierce, Jaehyun swore he saw fire burning inside them, flames so intense like the ones on the torture fields. 

Just like now.

She hadn’t changed one bit since the day they had said goodbye to each other. Dressed all in black now with fiery eyes, she had returned to him, her attire as splendid as the crown in her hair, fitting for the queen of the underworld who was about to start her duties.

They were grinning at each other from afar already, and she was coming to a halt right in front of the dais. 

“You’re back,” Jaehyun stated stoically, but his voice shook with emotion when he arose. “I missed you.”

“I am,” you whispered. “And I missed you too.”

When he had been an immortal god, he had felt invincible. But Jaehyun hadn’t felt like this in months, and for a long while, he had been worried about that, about never being able to feel so powerful again.

But as he was holding his wife and his queen in his arms again after such a long period of separation, inhaling her scent, feeling her soft skin, hearing her warm voice whispering his name, he suddenly regained all of what he had thought lost when he had traded his immortality for her freedom, for her true happiness.

He didn’t need his immortality to feel immortal.

He only needed her.

[rebelliousmuse]

Little Pet - M.S.

Controversial fanfic.

Based on a dream I had (and a fantasy of mine too).

Summary: in which, Matt hasn’t been paying attention to you that much and you reach your limit, initiating an argument with him. After a few minutes of screams, he leaves frustrated. Hours later, he comes back, finding you still mad at him, and he decides to try a different tactic with you this time.

Warnings: CNC KINK, smut, initial non-consent, unprotected p in v, pet names.

If you’re not into this topic, please keep scrolling and don’t read.

--------------------------------------------------------------

You’d been simmering for days, the resentment growing with each passing hour. Matt’s inattentiveness had been a constant thorn in your side. You'd tried to bottle it up, to ignore the gnawing feeling of being overlooked, but it had become too much to bear.

When the final straw came as he ignored you again the entire day, you exploded. Words tumbled out as screams in a torrent of frustration, the pent-up emotions finally finding their release. Matt's response was less than ideal, his indifference only fuelling your anger, making the argument escalate.

Hurt and disappointed, you watched as Matt stormed out frustrated, joining his brothers to record another Friday video. Left alone, the anger simmered in you, overthinking everything, every interaction between the two of you.

When Matt finally returned hours later, his entrance was met with a cold silence. He saw the storm still raging in your eyes, making a familiar irritation twist his features. Instead of attempting to address the issue head-on, he chose a different tactic, hovering over you, pulling up your skirt, and forcefully taking your panties off abruptly, followed by the unzipping of his jeans, and freeing his hard length.

“What the hell, Matthew?!” You speak up, irritated, trying to stop his strong hands. But instead of listening to your complains, you feel him rubbing his tip against your entrance, making you gasp sharply. “Stop it” you said firmly, but even if you tried to squirm away, he holds your hips harshly, leaving the marks of his fingers on your skin. “Shut the fuck up, slut. I’ll teach you a thing or two about respect”.

With a swift, decisive motion, he lines himself up with your entrance and thrust forward, sheathing himself to the hilt inside your welcoming heat. A low groan escapes him as your tightness envelops him, your body stretching to accommodate his girth. “Fuck, you feel incredible,” he grunts, his hips beginning to move in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “So fucking perfect.”

“Matt” You complain trying to get him off you. Yet, he sets a steady pace, each thrust driving deeper into your body.

He picks up the pace, his hips snapping forward with each thrust. The slap of your bodies colliding echoes in the room, each impact sending ripples of pleasure coursing through you both. “You like that, don't you?” He taunts, pulling your shirt off you and leaning down to capture your nipple between his teeth, biting down gently. “Tell me how much you love it.”

Hearing you whine and still squirming beneath him trying to escape, he speaks up. “What's wrong, babygirl?” He purrs, his hands finding their way to your hips, rolling you over and guiding you to straddle him. He gives your ass a playful squeeze, his fingers digging into the supple flesh as he positions you above his length. “Why don't you ride me?” He suggests, his voice low and seductive. “Show me what a good little slut you can be.”

“I don’t want to! Stop it, Matt” you say wriggling on top of him, using your hands to push him away. Ignoring your feeble protests, he grasps your hips firmly, positioning you above his eager cock. He gives your ass another firm squeeze, his fingers tracing the curves of your cheeks before slipping between them to guide his member towards your slick entrance. With a determined thrust, he sinks back into your welcoming heat, his cock sliding home with ease. Your tightness wraps around him like a velvet glove, each twitch and spasm of your inner walls sending waves of pleasure coursing through his veins.

“Ride me, babygirl,” he commands, his grip on your hips tightening. “Make yourself cum on my dick.” You don’t listen to him, still angry that he thinks he can just fuck you after all the awful things he said to you hours ago, and not paying attention to you for the past two months, you’re still trying to squirm away.

“Still trying to get away?” he chuckles, his voice laced with a hint of mockery. “Not so fast, sweetheart.” With a firm hold on your hips, he keeps you grounded atop his lap. He keeps moving his hips, grinding upwards to hit that sweet spot within you. “Fuck, that's it” he encourages.

Your continued struggles only amuse him more, “Looks like someone's having trouble sitting still,” he teases with sarcasm. “But I've got news for you, babygirl. This is where you're staying.” Without warning, he gives your ass a sharp spank. The sting of his hand against your skin is immediately followed by a surge of pleasure as he thrusts upwards, hitting that sweet spot once again.

A fresh wave of anger surges through him, fuelled by your continued defiance. He gives your ass another punishing spank, harder this time, the sound ringing out in the quiet room. But instead of trying to mount him, you wriggle even more. “Damn it!” he curses, his grip on your hips tightening. “Stop fighting me!”

Despite your desperate attempts to free yourself, he maintains his ironclad grip on your hips, keeping you pinned above his throbbing cock. Each movement designed to remind you who's in control here. The slap of skin against skin fills the air as he spanks your ass repeatedly, each strike punctuated by a grunt of satisfaction. “You're going to sit on my cock until I say otherwise.”

One of his hands trails up your sides to grab handfuls of one of your breasts. He pinches and twist your nipple roughly, eliciting yelps of pain that mingle with your ongoing moans of discomfort. “Shut up and take it like a good little slut.” His free hand’s thumb starts rubbing your clit in quick circles.

As you continue to writhe above him, your initial cries of pain gradually morph into breathy moans of reluctant pleasure. Despite your best efforts to resist, your body betrays you, responding to the relentless stimulation of his cock buried deep inside your tight heat, slowly beginning to meet his upward thrusts halfway with your downward bounces. “Look at you,” he taunts, “Fighting it one minute, then riding me like a bitch in heat the next.” He tightens his grip on your hips, guiding your movements as you start to grind down onto his shaft. The change in your demeanor is palpable, your earlier resistance melting away under the onslaught of building ecstasy. “That's it, babygirl,” he purrs. “Let go and enjoy it. We both know you want this.”

As you begin to move atop him with tentative strokes, he can feel your resistance crumbling, replaced by a growing need for release. “Show me how much you love taking my cock.” Your moans grow louder, more desperate, as you start to pick up speed, your hips moving in sync with his. “Don't fight it anymore,” he commands, his voice strained with exertion. “Just let go and fuck yourself on my dick.”

“It hurts” you moan while you bounce on his dick. “Hurts, daddy, please.”

“That's right, babygirl, tell daddy how much it hurts,” he groans, his fingers digging into your hips as you bounce on his cock with increasing urgency. “You love hurting so bad, don't you?” He thrusts up to meet your downward motions, driving himself deeper into your clenching cunt with each stroke, as you nod frantically at his question.

He leans up to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours. As you make out passionately, he reaches to fondle your tits, pinching and rolling your sensitive nipples between his fingers.

Feeling your body finally surrender to the pleasure, your whines of pain transforming into mewls of pure bliss, sends a surge of pride and arousal coursing through his. His cock twitches inside you, threatening to spill its load prematurely. “Look at you, fucking loving every second of it,” he growls, his voice rough with lust. “You're such a dirty little whore for daddy's big cock.” With renewed vigor, he guides your movements, and he thrusts upward, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes your back arch and your pussy clench around his length. “That's it, take it all,” he encourages. “Daddy's gonna fill you up so good.”

After a few minutes, your whimpers get louder and louder signalling impending release, Matt flips you over again, laying you on your stomach and he keeps fucking you relentlessly as he watches your plump ass cheeks jiggle with every thrust. “Mmmph need… n-need to cum, daddy.”

Matt snarls possessively at the sound of his nickname falling from your lips, your impending orgasm only serving to heighten his own building pleasure. “Not yet, slut. You don't get to cum until I say so…” He bites down on your shoulder, the sharp sting mingling deliciously with the intense pleasure radiating through your body. “Beg for it. Beg for permission to cum on my cock like the desperate little whore you are…” Matt's hand snakes between your sweat-slicked body and the mattress, finding your aching clit and rubbing merciless circles around the sensitive nub, making your eyes squeeze shut. Using his free hand, he grabs a handful of your hair and yanks it, making you face over your shoulder at him.

“Open your eyes,” he demands. “Look at me while you beg to come undone on daddy's cock.” As if obeying an unseen force, your eyelids flutter open, revealing glazed, lust-drunk pupils staring back at him. In that moment, he knows you're completely lost to the pleasure, your mind shattered by the overwhelming sensations he's inflicted upon you.

“Please, Matt… ‘m sorry for screaming at you… sorry, please, please let me… let me cum, please.” A devilish grin appears on his face at your pleading. “Go on then, slut. Cum for me.” Your walls clench deliciously hard against his hard cock, covering it in your juices, making his eyes roll back and his self-control slip. You feel as his dick lets hot spurts of cum fill your pussy and a whimper escapes his lips. Your legs are left shaking from the intense sex you two had and he collapses on top of you while you two are left panting heavily.

After a few moments, he helps you roll over and he watches you intently, drinking in the sight of your tear-streaked face, your puffy lips parted. “You look so beautiful like this,” he murmurs. “All fucked up because of daddy.”

He lays down beside you, bringing you closer against his body. His arms wrapped around you. Your head rested on his chest letting you hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. As he traced gentle circles on your scalp, his fingers seemed to possess a magical ability to melt away all the earlier tension. His hands moved to your hips, kneading them with a gentle pressure that sent a wave of pleasure through your body.

“I think you've earned yourself a reward, babygirl,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your neck. “How about daddy takes you out for a nice dinner tonight? Somewhere fancy where everyone can see what a perfect little pet you are.”

You nodded in agreement, a smile spreading across your face. As you stood up, feeling your legs tremble a bit, you give yourself a second before you start to make your way towards your closet to see what you’ll wear for your date tonight.

He watches as you stumble towards the closet, your legs clearly struggling to support your weight after the intense session you just had. Part of him wants to scoop you up and carry you the rest of the way, but he resists the urge, wanting to see you push through the discomfort.

“There's my brave little pet,” he encourages, his voice filled with admiration as he watches you manage to walk without his help. “You're doing so well, sweetheart.”

Once you reach the closet, he gets up from the bed and steps up behind you, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he leans down to murmur in your ear. “And don't forget, babygirl,” he purrs, you feel his hot breath against your skin. “No panties tonight. I want easy access to my favorite toy.”

[reidmotif]

Coffee and Consequences

Summary: Reader joins the BAU, and Spencer seems insistent on being a problem for her.

Request: pls i am such a sucker for angst/smut, can you do one where spencer is closed off and cold to a new recruit, and it upsets her, so she tries to get him to like her, which leads to an argument and confession, with soft smut?

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut/Light Angst (Happy Ending)

Content Warning: Reader POV, little shit Spencer, oral sex (f recieveing), gunshot wound/typical canon violence, unprotected sex

Word Count: 6.1k

Upon starting at the BAU, I believed there was no question about me, especially when it came to my skills and ability to perform my job. From stellar recommendations from my superiors at the Academy, to general demeanor and tact, there was no question about whether or not my success was imminent. Most of the team were more than elated to welcome me to the small family they’d built over the years, despite my younger age than most of them, which I was eternally grateful for. 

Most, being the keyword in that sentence. Since I’d begun, there’d been one thorn in my roses, the bane of my existence, you might say. Spencer fucking Reid. I’m aware of the fact that not everyone could like me, that was a given. I'm an FBI agent, for god’s sake. To expect warmth and friendship from everyone would be naive and lead to disappointment in any given scenario. 

But Jesus Christ, this was getting absolutely ridiculous. 

I consistently replayed the events of our first meeting. In an attempt to make a good first impression, (which seems stupid, in hindsight) I brought coffee to each of my new co-workers, hoping to establish myself as a friendly, non-threatening presence in their lives. I’d covertly asked Emily for help, as within the interviews and background checks required to even be considered for a position in the BAU, there was a certain camaraderie and friendship forged through the continued exposure to each other. 

Emily advised me carefully, understanding the intentions behind the act, and being more than happy to help.  “JJ likes vanilla lattes, nothing too fancy. Rossi is a little simpler, a Caffe Americano.” I spoke, and continued to go through my team’s regular orders, until there was hesitation on a somewhat infamous name, one that I myself was already intrigued by. “Spencer’s an easy order to remember, but you have to make sure you get it right.” 

I found myself nodding, the seriousness of Emily’s words striking me- momentarily finding myself forgetting that they were speaking about something as mundane as coffee. "Emily spoke slowly, as if I was advising a child. 'Reid likes black coffee, but you have to make sure to add extra sugar.'" I nodded quickly, "Alright, black coffee with extra sugar, got it-" Emily interrupted me abruptly. "No, no. You're not hearing me, extra sugar. I mean a lot, okay? Otherwise, he quite literally won't drink it."

I found myself chuckling a little bit, thinking about the image of Spencer Reid I’d built up in my head before I’d even met him. I knew he had been framed and had endured a considerable time in prison. I was also aware of his intelligence, a natural by-product of all the papers he’d written, and how many of his own techniques in geographic profiling were referenced during my time in the Academy. Working with him seemed like a dream come true. The idea of a grown man needing as much sugar in his coffee as Emily made it seem added just a bit of charm to the already positive perception I’d had of him. 

In the coffee shop, I carefully recited the orders of my new teammates, taking extra caution in advising the barista that the black coffee needed extra sugar. I could tell the patrons behind me were definitely annoyed, but it didn’t matter. First impressions matter more. Even after my incessant requests about sugar, I took the time to open the lid of the steaming black coffee to add in 3 extra packets of brown sugar provided at the customization station in the back of the coffee shop. I could tell the barista was boring holes into the back of my head, and I honestly wasn’t surprised or could blame her. At this point, the sugar had to be more than the coffee itself. I gave a satisfied grin to myself, knowing I’d followed Emily’s directions and the possibility of friendship with someone I’d already come to admire wasn’t something far-off to wish for. 

God, was I wrong. 

I approached the bullpen cautiously, being greeted by an assortment of new faces. I quickly matched names to descriptors that had been given to me from Emily. I then noticed one face that hadn’t greeted me yet, sat alone in the back with his nose in a book. I couldn’t discern the title, which I quickly figured was due to the fact that the book appeared to be some European language I’d most likely never even heard of. The man had a mess of brown hair on his head, and even from across the room I could tell it was curling softly near the nape of his neck. He was handsome. More handsome than I had pegged him for. I knew almost immediately that this had to have been the infamous Spencer Reid, and I cautiously approached him, flashing a small smile. 

He heard me a mile away, looking up quickly and putting away his book. His eyes seemed to size me up, and he didn’t seem to return my smile. I knew better than to shake hands with him, being predisposed to his germaphobe nature and instead held out the coffee, almost as if it was a peace offering. 

“Hi, uh. I’m the new recruit, I believe Emily warned you all about me and I just wanted to introduce myself. (Y/N). That’s my name. It’s nice to meet you.” I said, a little dumbly, still holding the coffee out. I quickly realized I hadn’t explained the reasoning behind the coffee cup and quickly added, “Coffee. I asked Emily about how you liked it. And brought it. So, yeah.” I said. I was aware of how awkward this conversation was becoming, considering I was still holding out the cup, like an idiot, and he hadn’t said a word to me yet. He nodded, taking the coffee cup from me and placing it on his desk. “Dr Reid. Welcome.” His greeting was short, but I tried not to let it bother me. Perhaps he wasn’t as forthcoming to strangers, nevermind that. The coffee was enough. I smiled, again, hoping to make my intentions clear. “Nice to meet you, Dr Reid.” 

I turned back, feeling satisfied. I’d done what I’d come there to do. Except a sound from behind me alerted me that maybe I was a bit early to assume that, because when I’d turned around, an incredibly displeased Dr Reid was throwing away his coffee- the coffee I had brought! That I’d waited for in a morning rush for, that I’d taken the time to add even more sugar to- that coffee! In the trash! His eyes met mine as he dropped it into the trashcan near his desk, shuddering a bit as he did so. He didn’t even look apologetic. 

I approached him, a bit upset and sad, but there was caution in my tone, not wanting to offend him before he even had a chance to know me. “Dr Reid, I’m sorry was the coffee-” Dr Reid quickly interrupted me. “Did Emily not tell you my order?” He asked, a little bit of sharpness to his tone. 

Okay, so this guy took his coffee seriously. Emily was not kidding around. 

“Um, yes-” He interrupted again. “Yes? Are you sure?” He said, a bit of condescension in his tone. Okay, holy shit. All this over coffee? “Very sure.” I responded, confidently. “Black, with extra sugar- I even put extra at the counter.” I added this, trying to convey that while I was sorry it wasn’t to his liking, it’s not like I didn’t try. That had to count for something, right? 

Wrong. Spencer Reid did not seem like the type of man who cared about trying. He retorted with, “Well, it wasn’t enough.” And with that, he shuffled to the breakroom, seemingly to make his own coffee. 

It seemed like from there, things only got worse. In one of my first cases, I quickly made a quip about the statistics on suburban murders, hoping to add some valuable information to the conversation. I tried hard not to overpower anyone and stay in my lane as the resident newbie, but Spencer seemed to take personal offense to it, going out of his way to argue that it meant nothing. I fired back, hoping to affront my point but Reid quickly cut me off.

 “You’re new, alright? And young. It’s granted that you should be clueless when it comes to some of these things.” His words, although somewhat true, were accompanied by a harsh tone and a coldness in his voice. What could’ve been well-meaning advice from a senior agent on the team was clearly not that at all. All signs pointed to one thing: He absolutely hated me. 

For all I tried, it seemed like he only disliked me more. It wasn’t unnoticed by my teammates, how he’d dismiss me. I was aware of my newness, of my inexperience, how this team had had years to grow around each other before I was ever even considered for this position, but it seemed with the more time I spent at the BAU, Spencer’s disdain only increased. He seemed to go out of his way to not sit by me on the jet, or how he seemed absolutely uninterested in anything involving me. I understood that not everyone would like me, but a bit of respect would be nice. I didn’t need friendship, just his tolerance, and even that seemed out of reach for Dr Spencer Reid. 

Eventually, this led to the dynamic  we harbored now. A year into the BAU, and instead of a friendship, or even acquaintanceship, it was constant bickering. It’s not like I wanted to argue- he just made it impossible for me to find footing within the BAU. I obviously stood up for myself, but was met with resistance from the doctor, and so the cycle continued. 

Still, despite the obvious dislike Reid harbored for me, it wasn’t like that magically made him dumb, or any less attractive to me. His intelligence was as impressive as I’d expected it to be, if not even moreso. I watched in real-time as the cogs in his mind turned, his slender fingers finding a point on the side of his mouth to tap, before stopping and sharing what he’d just thought of. He was brilliant, and no one could take that away from him

 However, in this particular case we were currently dealing with, it seemed that brilliance simply didn’t matter, because how could someone like him be so absolutely stupid? 

The hostage situation we were dealing with was tricky, to say the least. Multiple civilians, and a trigger happy unsub. Any experienced agent would be at a loss when handling something like this, but Spencer seemed confident. He’d been pushing to storm the building, citing that more people would get hurt the longer they allowed the unsub to continue making demands. I found myself  wholeheartedly disagreeing, attempting to put my foot down and be heard. I found that perhaps, through negotiations, we could not only save the civilians, but walk away with zero people hurt. Naturally, this caused commotion between the senior agent and myself. 

“Reid, I’ve told you for the millionth time that this unsub can’t be approached like this!” I whisper-yelled, clearly fed up with Spencer by this point. He questioned every decision of mine, and it's gotten to me. 

“(Y/N), you’ve dealt with maybe 3 hostage situations in your life. This isn’t something for you to take point on. We have civilians in there, and it’s more important we save them.” He responded, in his own hiss. 

“You’re being ridiculous!” I retorted. 

“You’re naive!” He shot back. 

We’d clearly reached a head when it came to this. Spencer huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m using my seniority here. We’re going to give the go-ahead to SWAT and make our way into the building.” 

I found myself returning the gesture. “Spencer- '' I began, only to be interrupted.

 “Dr Reid.” He corrected, venom in his voice. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I replied, furrowing my brows. 

“What?” He countered, seeming calm, but his eyes gave away simply how determined he was to win this. 

“This is a terrible idea.” I said, firmly. “Someone’s going to get hurt.” 

“Oh, and how do you know that?” Spencer quipped. “Is it your years of experience in the field? Or your time spent as an FBI agent?” He said, sarcastically. 

“I understand I don’t have as much experience as you, but-” I started, but I found myself cut off by him again. Bastard. He never let me finish my sentences. “Exactly.” He responded, calmly. “You don’t have as much experience. I know what I’m doing. Let’s go.” And with that, he walked, leaving me to simply follow. God, I fucking hated that guy. Forget the intelligence, none of that mattered when he was such a dick. 

As they entered the warehouse doors behind SWAT, I  knew that it was wrong. Something was off. We’d profiled this unsub as the dominant type, and an egotistical personality that wouldn’t allow for a partner. It was a part of the profile that they were sure of. It was part of the reason why Spencer was so confident of going in. 

Upon entering though, the SWAT team had a clear shot of the unsub, but in a split second, there were shots heard from an entirely different part of the warehouse. From the direction in which Spencer was directly in line of. 

It wasn’t like I thought about it, maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have done it. It was based on pure instinct. I found myself in front of Spencer Reid, the man who’d questioned my every decision since I’d begun my job, taking a bullet for him. Maybe he was right, maybe I was an idiot. 

I heard the gunshot first, then felt the cold floor pressing into my cheek where I’d been knocked down. Then a tight pressure in my arm. I finally looked down, seeing a bloom of red appear under my dress shirt where a bullet had struck, away from the vest I wore to prevent this sort of thing. I took in a sharp breath of air, eyes widening as my breathing began to quicken. I rolled onto my back, only to be met with Spencer’s concerned and frightened expression above me. I heard ins and outs of his speech into his receiver, as I faded in and out of consciousness. 

“Yes! We have an agent down. We need medic, now!” He yelled. I watched him in fascination, his face currently seeming to be the only thing I could focus on besides the overwhelming burning that I felt. I heard him speak to me, calmly. “Y/N? Stay with me, okay? You need to stay conscious. Okay?” He spoke to me calmly, but the waver in his voice was unmistakable. I found my eyelids growing heavier as I nodded. 

It wasn’t long until I came to, groggily opening my eyes to see Spencer’s concerned face looking back at me. I heard his voice, soft and distant. 

“(Y/N)..?” Spencer said, cautiously. 

“Dr Reid?” was my response. I was still a bit dizzy, and a bit confused about my whereabouts. 

“You were shot.” He replied, immediately. “In your arm.” He added, as if that wasn’t already obvious. 

I found myself chuckling, “Yeah, I can tell.” I said, my eyes meeting his. His expression was a bit unreadable, a mix between sternness and apprehension. I watched him, as his gaze shifted and he bit his lip. “You took it for me.” He said, suddenly. “The bullet, I mean.” He continued. “It would’ve hit me if you hadn’t gotten in the way.” 

“Gotten in the way?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Gotten in the way.” He repeated back to me, his face hard. 

“Are you upset I took a bullet for you?” I said, furrowing my brows, my lips parting in shock. Was this guy serious? 

“Yes.” He said, his voice angry. “What were you thinking?” His voice wavered with anger and another emotion I couldn’t quite discern in that moment. 

“I wasn’t thinking, I just-” 

“Exactly.” He responded, harshly. “You weren’t thinking.” He said, his voice reaching a volume I’d never heard before, granted, it was still collected, but I’d never seen this side of him. 

I contemplated how to respond to this, actually not being able to believe that he could be mad at me for something like this. Yes, it was brash but- he didn’t get shot! Isn’t that a plus? His voice broke my thoughts, now a bit more shaky, softer. “Do you have any idea what that would mean? If you’d been hurt worse, what that would mean for me?” He said, looking right at my face, into my eyes with a blaze. “What you mean to me?” 

I found myself unable to respond, still not being able to grapple with what he was saying. What he was implying. “Sorry?” I asked, softly. 

“(Y/N)..” He said, softly. His own expression mirrored my confusion mixed with longing I’d never seen before on him. Especially when he looked at me. His hand brushed across my face, moving some hair that had drifted near my eye. I held my breath as he did so, watching as his tongue slipped out to wet his bottom lip, still watching intently. I felt my lips slightly part as he came closer, unsure what was going to happen in this moment, but regardless, my gaze was intently trained on his. 

In a split second though, the sounds of the rest of the BAU filtered into the hospital room. They jumped away from each other, Spencer now 4 feet away from me. Emily came up to my bedside, looking at the wound. 

The typical chastisement came, and the general choruses of appreciation that I was still alive. The diagnosis revealed that (Y/N) would be just fine, given I remembered to clean my wound liberally and change the bandages.

In about a week, I found myself discharged. I was given about 2 more weeks to rest at my apartment. I assumed the time would be enough to forget the strange moment I’d had in the hospital room. At some points, if I tried hard enough, I could convince myself it hadn’t happened at all. The tenderness in his eyes, the way his gaze drifted to my lips, so subtle it could’ve as easily been a figment of imagination. I shook my head, as if I could rid myself of all the feelings I’d harbored about that specific moment. I made my way to the kitchen, grabbing a fresh-set of bandages to apply on the recovering wound, wincing as I peeled away the layers of gauze to reveal the injury. As I began to apply the anti-septic, I began to wrap the gauze, until I heard a knock at my apartment door. 

I put down the gauze, looking through the peephole and being surprised to see the senior agent that had been haunting my thoughts for the past few weeks. I opened the door quickly, meeting his pensive gaze. 

“Can I come in?” He said, quickly, almost if he didn’t say the words fast enough, he’d bolt the other direction. I sensed the confusion about his own actions, and opened the door wider, allowing him to push past me into my apartment. He noticed the gauze, and the open wound, and raised an eyebrow. 

“I was changing the gauze, sorry.” I said, explaining the sight on my kitchen table. He immediately took a step towards the table, picking up the bandages. “Let me help.” He said, quietly, motioning for me to sit down. 

I found myself sitting, out of pure habit of obeying him, but still shook my head. 

 “Dr Reid, no, it’s fine.” He quickly shook his head, mirroring my previous actions,  already beginning to take my arm, his light touches on my bare skin shooting a shiver up my spine. This was noticeable to him, him immediately retracting his hand. 

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” He asked, softly. 

I found myself shaking my head. “No, no. Sorry. Just. Continue.” I said, trying to get the words out without looking at him. I suddenly remembered the strangeness of this situation, and forced myself to calm down as he began to carefully wrap the bandages around my injury, swallowing and looking up. 

“Dr Reid, why are you here?” I asked, carefully. I made sure that my tone was neutral, not trying to express displeasement, but still a bit confused about his intentions here. 

“You took a bullet for me.” He replied, simply, as if that explained why he was in my apartment, looming over me as he tenderly wrapped gauze over my arm, looking at me with the gentlest gaze I’d ever seen on him. I sighed, locking eyes with him. “I know, but-” He interrupted. “No, (Y/N), you don’t know.” 

Immediately, the rage returned to my eyes, the months of dismissal I’d faced from him flooding back in a moment, and those emotions came to full light in that moment. my brows furrowed, my face turning sour. “Oh, I don’t know, Spencer?” I said, sneering at him. “Am I too young, too stupid, too inexperienced for you?” I question, sarcastically. “Am I so dumb, that I wasn’t aware of what I was doing when I stepped in front of you?!” I say, my voice practically yelling at him now. 

“Yes.” He whispered, dangerously close. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Yes. You weren’t aware.” He says, repeats, softer this time. “It’s the only way any of this makes sense. That.. that you were so unaware, so blinded that you weren’t thinking when you stepped in front of me.” He said, quietly, remaining just as close as before. 

“I wasn’t.” I said, firmly, my brows still furrowed but the tension slowly left my face, being replaced with a softness. 

“Why did you do it then?” He said, dropping his gaze as he began to focus more on the bandages. “I haven’t been very forthcoming with you since you’ve begun your time at the BAU.” 

“Ah, so you’ve noticed.” I said, trying to make humor of the situation, but it came out a bit more breathless and dry. I was aware of the intimacy of the situation, and it seemed my body was catching up. I could physically feel the way my cheeks were heating up, and how they were close enough that I could see every breath that exhaled from his lips. How, despite everything, I still desperately wanted to kiss him at that moment. 

I couldn’t be crazy, when he secured the bandages and slowly trailed his eyes over my figure, sitting in front of him. I saw the same desire I felt, reflected in his eyes, and I found myself biting my lip. What the fuck was going on?

“So why’d you do it?” He repeated, still looking at me. 

“It felt natural, I..” I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain what I had felt in that split-second, but instead went with the simplest retelling my brain could manage, considering how close he was. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” I said, looking at him. “I.. I care about you.” 

I felt stupidly vulnerable. His breath fanned over my face, and I bit my lip. I waited for him to say something, anything, staring anxiously at his face. 

“I’m a good profiler, you know.” He says, softly. 

I  chuckle a little at this, moving away so the tension can be relieved. “Trust me, I’m reminded of that every day.” I said, feeling like the distance between them was now more manageable, allowing me to talk.

But in a moment, he closed that distance to its predecessor, just as close as they were a moment ago. “You learn a lot about body language. Not just by learning to profile, but through years of experience. It just comes naturally, reading people. You can’t really turn it off. It’s like trying to forget how to breathe.” I hung onto his every word, and found my breath hitching when he directed his monologue to me. 

He gently inquires, “Do you understand?” 

I nod, looking up at him, as he inches closer. 

“So I hope you’ll understand and not take offense when I say I’ve been profiling you.” He pauses.  “Would you like to know what I’ve found out?” He says, looking right into my eyes at this point. 

My brain is screaming at me to say no, to not take the bait that he was dangling right in front of me, and to not cross that line tonight. Because, surely, that’s where this was going. I had a sneaking suspicion that the man in front of me was going to ruin me, if I let him. 

Instead, I ignore the instinct and intuition I normally rely on, and nod. “What did you find out, Dr Reid?” I responded, a bit shakier than I wanted to sound. 

“Your pupils dilate when I come near you. It’s an involuntary response, but I notice it every time. I’ve seen it in low and heavy lighting, the only commonality in both those situations being that we were in some proximity to each other.” His voice was low, and seductive, something I’d never heard from him before. 

“Your heart rate.” He murmurs, slowly picking up my wrist and pressing a thumb to the pulse point. “This isn’t exactly the best way to measure heart rate.” He explains, “My thumb. It carries its own pulse that can make it hard to distinguish between mine and yours. But right now, (Y/N)?” He mumbles. “I can tell. Because your pulse is going crazy right now. It’d be hard to miss.”  He said, with a low chuckle.

And he’s right, I can feel my heart getting faster with every second he speaks to me, in that hushed tone that seems to be driving me crazy. 

“It’s not just tonight. I’ve noticed it since the day you walked in.” He whispers, getting closer to my ear, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Since you brought that terrible coffee, actually.” 

I pulled back, letting out a noise that was both composed of surprise and amusement. “Oh come on, it was not that bad.” 

“It was, but I can tell you tried.” He said, a small smirk playing on his face. “It was cute.” He said, now taking the time to brush some hair out of my face. It all happened quickly, his gaze tender and soft, before he captured my lips in a swoon-worthy kiss, pressing himself against me. I quickly melted into the kiss, letting out a satisfied sigh as I gripped his forearm, before rising from the chair as he slowly guided me to my couch. I let out a nervous laugh as my knees hit the cushions, tumbling a bit as I fell onto the soft pillows. He immediately pulled back, breathless, looking at me worriedly. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He murmured softly, kissing me again, a bit more gentle so I could murmur a soft “no” against his lips. 

“Good.” He growled, positioning himself above me on the couch,  beginning to press hot kisses down my neck, eventually reaching my exposed sternum, and looking up at me through hooded lids for implicit consent to continue, to which I nodded, feverishly. 

“Please.” I whispered, hoarsely. 

He took no time in obliging my request, rising a bit to remove the fabric of my shirt in one, clean swoop and continuing his assault on my chest, leaving open-mouthed kissed, eventually switching to nips and playful bites, as he sucked marks into the swell of my breasts, leaving me letting out delighted sighs and soft moans, which only seemed to encourage him to go lower. I arched my back, screwing my eyes shut, until he felt him stop, and come back to my neck. 

He murmured against me, close to my ear. I could feel his lips slowly brush the sensitive skin between my ear and neck, barely giving me any real stimulation, but it was enough to drive me crazy anyway. 

“Keep your eyes open, baby.” He whispers. “I want to see every part of your pretty face when I do this.” He says, returning lower again, leaving little kisses everywhere he could possibly go with his lips. I opened my eyes on command, watching as he went lower and lower, before finding the button on my jeans, slowly undoing them with nimble fingers and moving them off  my legs. I could imagine them so vividly inside me, expertly guiding me to pleasure in a way that mine couldn’t. But right now, if I wasn’t fucked senseless by him right now, I’d just about lose my mind. 

“Spencer.” I whispered, breathlessly. “I need you.” I breathed out. “Please.” 

“You need me to do what?” He asked, smirking as he already began to undo his own belt. 

“Spencer.” I repeated, firmly, not wanting to say the words. 

“Say it.” He says, in a much more commanding tone. 

“Spencer..” I repeat, breathing out again. “Fuck. I need-” I waver on the words, biting my lip. “I need you to fuck me. Now.” 

His smirk turns into a grin of satisfaction and pride, capturing my lips in yet another passionate kiss. “Mm. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He says, cockily. I whined against his lips, tacitly begging him to just get on with it and he chuckles, moving off of my mouth. 

“Alright. I get it.” He says, moving his lips downwards again, his lips brushing against my underwear, as he began to remove that fabric as well. He nearly moaned when he saw just how wet I really was. It was a bit embarrassing, just from a few touches and words, but it was hard to care when I felt his tongue right on my core, beginning to lap at the hot flesh, reducing me to moans as I knotted my fingers into his hair, arching my back and bucking my hips to feel more of his ministrations. He seemed to understand, hooking his strong arms under my thighs, firmly planting me to the couch we were currently on, continuing. I could feel his moans against me, sending vibrations that only heightened my arousal in that moment. As if that was even possible. 

And then it was, because I heard him murmur against me.“You taste-” he paused, using his tongue to lap up more of my arousal. “So fucking good.” He finished, beginning to now harshly flick at my clit, which caused an entirely new slew of sensations. I recognized my end was fast approaching, and I tugged on his hair, unable to form the words as the white-hot pleasure overtook me quickly, he seemed to understand this without a word, nursing me through my orgasm as my thighs shook around him and he held my hips down. Even then, he didn’t stop, continuing to flick his tongue, lapping up my arousal until I had to physically push him away with a soft groan. “Spencer.. It’s too much.” Even then, he continued, reducing me to nothing but moans, and I heard him whisper. “Come on. One more. Please.” The words unintentionally caused a flutter in my stomach, and in record time I was being pushed towards my second orgasm in a matter of 5 minutes.

His mouth was clearly so much better at this than arguing. 

I felt him lap up the last bit of my arousal, looking up at me with a glistening chin, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was the most erotic sight in the world at that moment. The man that had questioned me at every turn, now in between my legs. He gave a smirk, moving up and giving me a rough kiss, and I didn’t hesitate to moan in his mouth when I could taste myself on his tongue. He smiled as he broke the kiss, caressing my cheek with one of his hands. His thumb moved along the smooth expanse of my cheeks. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, gently, concern in his eyes. 

I couldn’t help but break out into a dazed smile, nodding, a thin cover of sheen over my body, where I was still breathing heavily. “Yeah. I’m good.” 

“Good.” He breathed out. “I’m not stopping.” 

“I don’t want you to stop,” was my response, his shirt coming off before I’d even finished my sentence. 

I watched in fascination as he undid his belt, the very sound of it filling me with anticipation and desire. I could feel myself getting more aroused by the second, despite my previous two orgasms. I wanted him, I wanted this so badly. 

I felt him position himself over me, and feeling the head of his arousal run through my folds. I let out a breathy groan, as I felt him push into me. He let out a moan of his own, shutting his eyes. “You feel.. So fucking good.” 

I whimpered slightly as my body adjusted to him and his size. He was so big, and I’d never felt full like this before. He noticed this and placed a gentle kiss against my lips, watching my face as it contorted in pleasure and pain. As the pain began to subside, I looked up at him nodding. 

“Move, please.” I begged, the desperation evident in my voice.

He took no time in obeying my request, beginning to slowly thrust in and out of me. I moaned, feeling his cock stretch me and fill me up in a way I had never been full before. A pleasant sensation bloomed through my lower abdomen, and I could feel him bury his head into my shoulder as he pushed into me, my walls clenching on his length with every movement he gave. He pressed wet kisses into my neck, and I moaned happily at the feeling. In an instant, I could feel him fucking me desperately, placing both of his hands on either side of my face. I could feel my jaw drop, and no sound came out. I was being hurdled towards my third orgasm of the night and it was all at the behest of the man in front of me, plowing into me like it was his job. 

I moaned loudly, my legs wrapping around his waist in an attempt to keep him buried in my deepest point, feeling my release creeping up on me. 

“Sp-Spencer..” I groaned, attempting to alert him of my impending orgasm, but he simply swooped down, kissing me roughly, which only caused me to moan into his mouth. 

“I know, baby.” He whispered, in a deliciously dark tone. “Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you make a mess all over my cock.” 

It took no more provocation from there, as I felt my hips buck up once more and my thighs shake. I came with a loud moan of his name, my free hand gripping onto him and leaving scratches I knew wouldn’t go away for a while. 

My release seemed to spur him on, the wetness allowing him to fuck into me harder. I watched the man above me lose all control, and it was beautiful. He grunted a bit, and I could feel his hips stutter, chasing after his orgasm. 

“Please, Spencer.” I begged. “Fill me up, I need to feel you come inside me.” I whispered. 

It didn’t take long after that, after a particularly hard thrust, a warmness filled me at my hilt and Spencer nearly collapsed over me. He gave me a kiss, murmuring into the skin of my neck. “So perfect, so fucking perfect for me.” 

I smiled at the praise, biting my lip. I let my hand traverse over his back, drawing figures into the warm skin. I looked at the man laying on my sternum, looking absolutely fucked out despite being the one to give me three orgasms tonight. “Perfect, you say?” I teased. 

He looked up at me, kissing my lips softly, before mumbling against them, “Mm. Perfect.” 

I had a sneaking suspicion the next time we were at work, and he’d have something to say about my work, (because he always did), it wouldn’t take long to have him whispering sweet nothings to me in an instant, just like he was now. At least I could do something right on the first try.

hi!! this is my first fanfiction i've written since i was literally in middle school. spoiler. far from middle school right now. leave a comment, reblog, like, whatever! i had fun writing this. my ask box should be open for more requests? if anyone would like. anyway! hope u enjoyed!! :3

[dipperscavern]

jon snow brainrot rn.

like imagine finding him after the whole thorne execution, post-death and post-revival

i need to hold him so bad🙁🙁 in spite of the horrid crawl of his skin, hair at his nape standing on end, urging him avert his gaze as you approach, he can't help but seek your soft stare, his own eyes weak with feeling, brows curved with vulnerability. and his heartbeat is quickening, and his breathing grows sharp

his hand trembles and no matter how desperately he tries to hold fast, he crumbles when you near, raising a hand to his cheek; warm and soft and tender. his breath hitches violently in his chest and his head falls to the crook of your neck, his silent sobs disrupting the quiet with small soundless gasps

and you hold him close, with a gentleness he deserves that he'd never before recieved, a hand in his curls and the other a firm warmth on his back as he helplessly leans his weight on you to finally release the overflow of agony he'd all but drowned in 🙁🙁🙁

SWEET BOY, I NEED TO HOLD HIM💔💔

SONGBIRDS — JON SNOW

pairing: jon snow x fem!reader, 3.1k words

synopsis: the ask above <3

authors note: ouh this was a rough one! i did in fact steal sentences from this ask, so thank u anon!! i love u!! become a writer!! thank u to my febu frongers @useralba & @eldrith for helping me not lose my sanity over this, love y’all!! enjoy i guess 🙄(if possible) (i’m gonna be quiet now)

SNAP

you’re brought out of your thoughts with a jolt, startled so badly you near fall out of the tree you’ve found sanctuary in. that doesn’t sit well with you, you’ve always been steady.

so was bran, a small voice whispers. so was he, another part of you agrees — and the one it mentions has naught to do with climbing.

was, your mind echoes bitterly. it seems like everyone who once surrounded you is only that anymore, a was. a whisper of the past, faces seen nowhere but in living memory; and now, he has joined them.

fresh tears roll down your cheeks, and you wipe them as soon as they join the conversation of grief. bitterness — mourning — desperation, all cradling you at once.

you readjust your form, limbs beginning to fall asleep from the tight position they’re in. if only you could do the same. it seems the gods have deemed you unable, as every time your eyes droop, you see the face of the lord commander.

the mere thought of him is paining, and the sight of him was entirely too much to bear. so much so that you fled, the memory squeezing uncomfortably at your chest.

his eyes, once ever-expressive, dulled to nothing but an expressionless saccharine blur. lips parted, yet no air being brought in to fill his lungs. the snow beneath him was stained a bloody crimson, and you can almost feel the familiar cold of the icy ground beneath your knees as you kneel beside the form of the man you love.

at first, you had cried. whispering pleas to whomever would listen, clutching any part of him you could reach — you had even attempted to stop the bleeding. stupid, stupid girl.

then, it seemed to occur to you that you were touching death. slowly removing your hands, looking down at the lifeless body of jon snow. and just like that, repulsion had entered your veins. no — rejection.

you rejected this. you rejected death, you rejected the finality you had been dealt. you had stood, clutching your bow, arrows lightly jostling from the movement. hunting.

you had been hunting while jon was dying.

if only time had dealt you a mercy, perhaps you would’ve made it back in time. to save him, or just to say goodbye, you’re not greedy in your wishing.

you glance to your hands, still stained with his blood. suddenly, your eyes flutter shut as you see the image of his body again — his wounds smoking in the cold nights air. it feels like a lifetime ago. rejection has long since abandoned you, leaving bitter acceptance in its wake.

you blink, eyes threatening tears, and your gaze finds the white and red blur of a weirwood tree. you return to the woods to escape, yet the gods find you anyway; what cruel mockery.

how could they, yet again? don’t they see all you lose? they must, you think, as they’re the ones who keep taking. is that the only joy a god may find? maybe now, that’s why you hunt; to send them a life as sick compensation for the one they took. what an acidic dance.

CRACK

this time, when a twig breaks, you are not so foolish as to think it only by coincidence. you aren’t the only hunter out here — yet you did not think to find yourself as prey.

whatever stalks you is enough to bring you out of the cynicality of grief, snapping you into a different mindset. though previously unsure how much more you can withstand, your body proves otherwise, flawless in its transition and execution.

you heart increases its rhythm, surefire in its performance, allowing extra blood flow and oxygen to be pumped to your aching muscles. your breathing changes, now quick and rapid breaths to take in more air which prove effective as you shift yourself from your sitting position.

you had chosen not the tallest tree, but the thickest and most concealed. it gives more room for stability, allowing you to exercise your position; a small decision you now are thankful for as you move forward, outstretching yourself on its thick limb to try and catch glimpse of whatever it is that seeks you.

unfortunately, the concealment that hides you does its job too well. you try to peer through the branches and leaves for what feels like ages, but they prove too thick. you curse under your breath, withdrawing from the branch to retreat back to the trees trunk once more.

closing your eyes, you listen. the gust of wind, the rustling of leaves, a raven cries in the distance. you wait.

there — your ears are graced with the light chirp of birds, in your own tree and in others nearby.

“If danger is near, the birds don’t sing.”

ned starks voice rings through your ears, so loud and clear that for a moment, you almost lose concentration. if asked why, you’d never be able to directly say why your eyes didn’t snap open, why your head didn’t swivel around, looking for the source of the voice you’ve heard. can you and the gods share a secret, if it’s one they decide not to include you on?

as the melody of songbirds continue, you shift to begin your descent.

in any other scenario you would stay in the tree, concealed by its branches until the threat was certainly gone. but things are different. jon is dead — you seek a fight. (do you, or do you refuse to allow the stranger your soul as well?)

the decision made, even in grief, isn’t a rash one. whatever it is isn’t nearby enough to silence the singers, and this may be your only window of opportunity to flip the coin; restoring yourself as predator, not prey.

your feet hit the ground, and you wince at the noise made. it’s midday, so you cannot hope for nightfalls rescue of concealment.

you pause, peering around you while you allow yourself a moment to think. your hunting grounds have always been the forest that surrounds castle black, and you had retreated to the very edge of it. your hunter has come from the north — funny enough, from the direction of castle black itself. if you’re careful, you can make a loop back east, foregoing your usual trail. swallowing your nerves, you begin to move your feet.

your senses are heightened, alike to how they are in battle, but this is different. instead of blood pulsing in your ears, they’re attuned to every sound, no matter how minuscule. the smell of blood and death is replaced by nature, the scent of oak & pine leaves fighting to not be smothered by the cold.

you don’t make much progress before you turn a corner and yelp in surprise, being met with a hulking figure, red eyes boring into you.

“Ghost—!” you shout; in surprise, frustration, and relief all at once. your breathing heavies, heart now beating wildly, ready to supply you should you need to run at a moments notice. then, somehow, you’re smiling. you smile at ghost, at the birds, who didn’t notice him enough to quiet themselves, and the childness of it all. you kneel, shouldering your bow and outstretching an arm.

ghost seems like he’s been waiting for your action, stepping forward immediately. you register his willingness — had he been searching for you? or did he find jon dead and left, as you did, finding you accidentally? if only he could speak; the phantom of a thousand words.

he’s soft under your hands, a small comfort parading in the wake of sad relations. and suddenly, you feel guilty. how long has ghost been by jon’s side? how fierce, the loyalty the direwolf has shown him? how fierce the devotion jon had shown him in return? he mourns alongside you, grief arguably more substantial, as he was given no explanation. how could he understand such matters?

an idiot thought, you're quick to push it away. you both have every right to grief, there is more than enough to go around.

eventually, ghost pulls away, and begins padding in the direction to castle black. you think he means to be solitary, but after a few paces, he stops, turning to look back at you. expectant.

though your breath hitches and grief nags at you once more, you swallow it down, and begin to follow the only remnant of jon snow — a piece of him that the gods saw fit to leave you. what cruel mercy, coming from the same hands of injustice.

though content to wallow in your anger, your disbelief, you refuse to allow the direwolf to return to castle black alone. strangely, the farther you follow him, the more you get a sense of deja vu. it can’t be more than a few minutes before you see a tree with bark missing, torn off and left bare its left side, which is now your right. a mark you had left to remember your trail. ghost has tracked your scent from castle black.

with the realization arises conflicted feelings, as if they can’t agree on how you feel. loyalty rings faintly in the back of your mind, the things done for love.

you forcibly close your mind, numbing yourself as to be fully in the present. you’ll have the rest of your days to dwell on it; but only now are you here, in the company of trees and wolves and birds, oh how they sing.

and suddenly, the melody is quiet.

time itself has been stopped, halted in its tracks. there’s no rustling of branches, of leaves, no sound of birds, no sound at all — the world has become inaudible.

you and ghost mirror each other in the ways you both lurch to a halt. a sick feeling infects your gut, hairs rising on the back of your neck, and the instinctual need to flee almost takes over. but something keeps you there, rooted to your spot, feet unmoving. what anchors you, is another secret between you and the gods; another peculiar joke that you stay the punchline of.

then, after a moment, a gust of wind graces the forest. it blows your hair, rustles through the trees, and almost hesitantly so, the birds begin their song again. ghost looks back at you, surveying as if this is the first time he’s seen you.

he begins to lead the way once more, but a thought still lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re unable to shake off the unease in your gut. what has dismantled the harmonious balance among living things so?

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

he wakes with a gasp.

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

it must be hours later when you approach the gates of castle black. one of the guards on watch takes notice, shaking the other awake. as they both stare down at you, you wonder.

are they close enough to see the mourning that rests forefront on your face? were they the same men who opened the gate for you upon your return last night, only to do the same thing minutes later after you found jon? do they feel guilty? should you?

the wooden gates protest opening, loud creaks and groans as it gives you access, and at first, you don’t see it.

at first, you walk in, and your gaze is trapped on the ground, lost in thought. you’ve come back empty handed, as you came back to jon — or rather, his body. but you don’t think anyone was expecting a stag draped across your shoulders. amidst the unexpected.

when you finally do look up, you’re startled for the ? time today. four men hang in the middle of the courtyard.

you stop in your tracks, but this time, ghost pads on ahead of you. he stops not for anybody, curving them all to fair left. the direction to jon’s chambers.

you don’t have long to dwell on the wolfs mistake, as peoples eyes find your frozen figure. among them, friends; edd, grenn, pyp, others you don’t recognize. some, not dressed in black. wildlings. you begin to walk forward, and a tall, ginger bearded figure spots you. tormund walks to meet you, an expression on his face unreadable — unable to be identified by your tired eyes.

confusion — surprise — apprehension — curiosity; all fight for their seat at the forefront of your mind, but they’re forced to share.

as you and tormund find each other, you glance past him at the hanging men. then to your left, expecting to see ghost still scratching at jon’s door — but he’s not there. was he shooed off? did you misread his intention?

“I don’t— what’s…” you start, but don’t finish. how could you even begin?

tormund reaches for you, hands settling on your biceps. whether he’s keeping you in place or checking for injury, you don’t think you care. the weight and warmth of the gesture is welcomed.

“Tormund, you’re scaring me—” your admission wouldn’t usually come so easy, but you can’t be bothered to guard yourself. you’re exhausted, your muscles are stiff, you’re confused, and you hurt.

he only turns you toward jon’s chambers, pointing, a hand on the small of your back. “In there, little bird.” he says, and you wish to tell him what a help he is. but you don’t. for some reason, you bite your tongue, sparing a last glance at him, before slowly making your way over.

all of the eyes on you make you nervous, and frustrate you all the same. why do they all act like they’ve seen the father?

it doesn’t take long for you to reach the door, curiosity guiding your step. you see ghosts muddied paw prints on the wood, but they don’t turn left or right — ending at the chamber door. your brows furrow almost instinctively. you can’t help but linger on the thought, setting your bow & arrows to lay nearby; your shoulders welcome the reprieve. with bated breaths, you push on the wood, stepping inside. what you find is beyond even your wildest imaginations.

what you find is jon’s head turning to look at you, and you can’t help the sharp inhale of air you take.

his bottom half is clothed, but his upper is uncovered, torso wrapped in bandages; covering the stab wounds that you know took his life.

you think him a hallucination, mind willing his fate to change so desperately it has conjured up its own delusion. but you glance to ghost, dutifully curled by his feet, and shift to turn, looking at the paw prints that led you here.

you turn back to (jon?), closing the door behind you. while your own flickers to ghost once more (an affirmation), jon’s gaze remains fixed on you. you inch closer, surveying him.

his eyes, now encasing life — not quite the same as you knew, but life nonetheless. lips, parted, as to suck in air to fill his lungs. lungs that in return, work in correspondence with his heart, beating to keep him alive.

no. this can’t be…

but it is.

he’s rigid — uncomfortable, yet a part of him fights to relax in your presence. how can it all be so unbalanced and so right all at once? you’re here. you’re all he’s ever wanted. but a part of him keeps him withdrawn, fighting him on reaching out for you.

perhaps it’s the horrid crawl of his skin, urging him avert his gaze as you approach. even so, he can't help but seek your gentle stare, his own eyes weak with feeling, brows curved with vulnerability. you see it as you close in — the turmoil within himself.

a different part of him wins, and he reaches for you. you’ve been waiting, it seems, and reach for him with equal fervor. his hands are cold on your waist, strikingly so. your eyes widen, disbelief written on you like ink on parchment.

you had not expected to feel him. no, you expected for him to vanish underneath your very fingertips.

one of your hands find the bare skin of his torso, experimentally reaching out. jon is hungry for your touch, offering any part of himself for your taking. he has craved you desperately ever since he awoke.

he watches, patient as you register the warmth underneath your hand. there’s blood circulating through his veins. your pupils blow wide in the realization.

you’re anxious for more assurance, your right hand moving to his forearm to keep him in place (jon wouldn’t dare to move), as your left finds his chest. specifically — the part of his chest that keeps safe his heart. you feel it beat underneath your palm, and your reaction is immediate, eyes fluttering shut.

if he didn’t want to be touched, jon would’ve shied away from you by now. but he hasn’t. no, his eyes bore into you with the attention only divine beings receive

jons breathing heavies in anticipation, expectant. he gauges every ounce of your reaction, waiting for your evaluation of him — as a sinner would their god. is he worthy? do you deem him so?

when your eyes open, something clicks into place. jon is here, in the now, alive and breathing; your fingertips said so themselves. you don’t know how, but you can’t find it in yourself to care much in the present, not when you finally have him in your hold once more. what you would’ve given for this, hours ago in your tree. what wouldn’t you have given?

and now, your eyes roam over every part of him, drinking in all that you can. your gaze trails fast, mapping the expanse of his shoulders, down his arms, to his torso, across his bandages again.

your hand removes itself from his chest, only momentarily, but jon chases your touch all the same. you can’t bear to leave him wanting, sliding a hand up his shoulder, feeling the lithe muscle beneath it. you’re desperate to ground the feeling of him, to commit it to memory — and jon seems equal in his need.

you hand stops it’s ascent when it reaches his neck, cradling the juncture of it, thumb smoothing over the soft skin of his cheek, as you meet his gaze. your touch is warm and soft and tender, and in an instant, his eyes are watery. the hands on your waist tremble, and his breaths turn shaky in an attempt to hold himself together. his brows pull together, and his breath hitches violently in his chest. something stirs in you at the sight, the expressions of a broken man.

jon has passed your test of realism with flying colors, and when he realizes, he crumbles.

his head falls to the crook of your neck, closing the small distance between you. you’re quick to wrap your arms around him, and jon’s immediate in pulling you closer — as close as you can get. the tears begin their flow easily, releasing the buildup of emotions harbored from death snaring & absolving him; akin to poison swallowed and retched before fully digested.

your touch is gentle, a hand in his curls and the other a firm warmth on his back. he leans himself into you, almost helplessly so, as if he couldn’t stop himself if he tried. you accept his weight with open arms. if jon was asked why he fights so desperately, even in times it seems hopeless, he would say to repay the gods for their gift to him; you.

the only things that disrupt the steady quiet that surrounds you are his silent sobs, accompanied by the small soundless gasps that flow from his lips as a river of melancholy.

his grip is tight; he drowns in a vast sea of agony, and you alone are his anchor.

[parkerslatte]

Mutual Love

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: alcohol consumption. mentions of beron's torture. scars.

Summary: After spending time with some friends, Y/N returns home to find Eris amongst a few of his trusted advisors. Though he is acting a little different then usual.

Prompt(s) Used: 14.They are drunk and they keep mumbling I love yous and how much they want to kiss you.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

When Y/N decided to visit some of her friends in the nearest village, she never thought she would return to the Autumn High Lord in the midst of a drunken ramble amongst his two most trusted advisors, really Eris’s only friends in the court– other than Y/N of course. 

As Y/N stepped into the room with an amused expression, she noticed the small smiles spread across the advisors faces. Eris's back was facing her as he talked, hands flying everywhere. Y/N smiled softly at the sight. 

“And you should have seen Y/N, she looked absolutely–”

Eris’s words were cut off by one of his advisors, Ansel, clearing his throat and gesturing to Y/N. Eris turned around and a lopsided grin appeared on his face. 

“Y/N!” he exclaimed happily. “Come and join us!”

Y/N dropped her small bag onto the floor by the door and walked over to Eris and the others. As she neared closer she noticed the nearly empty bottle of drink on the table. 

“We’ve had about a glass each of that,” Ansel said. “Eris has had the rest.”

Eris scoffed. “You have had more than that. Come and sit down, Y/N.”

“There isn’t another seat, Eris,” Y/N pointed out. 

Eris uncrossed his leg and gestured to his lap. “There is right here.”

Y/N flushed and looked away from Eris quickly. Ansel stifled a laugh. 

“I’m fine here Eris,” Y/N mumbled. 

Y/N shuffled her feet and winced as she did so. The heels she wore were a good idea earlier but after standing up nearly all night and walking back to the Forest House, Y/N was beginning to regret her decision. 

“I can get another chair–” Yvette, Eris’s other advisor offered. 

“It’s okay,” Y/N said and perched herself on the arm of Eris’s chair. “I’ll be okay here.”

As she turned to look at Eris, he was frowning. “You’re hurting.”

Y/N let out a quiet chuckle. “If you wore heels all night, your feet would be hurting too.”

Eris still continued to frown as Y/N reached forward and picked up his glass and took a sip from it. As she settled on the arm of the chair, Y/N felt an arm snake around her back until Eris had his arm securely around her, his hand resting upon her upper thigh. Y/N became flustered just at the sight. 

As she looked up Ansel and Yvette both hid their grins as they each took a sip from their glasses. Y/N only glared at them. 

“So what were you all talking about before I interrupted?” Y/N asked, trying to ignore the warmth of Eris’s hand. “I believe I heard a mention of my name.”

Eris lit up. “I was talking about how beautiful you looked at my coronation last month.” 

“You thought I looked beautiful?” Y/N questioned. 

“He always thinks you are beautiful,” Yvette chimed in.

Heat swarmed to Y/N’s face as she felt Eris’s hand grip tighter onto her thigh. “Is that true Eris?” she asked. 

Eris scoffed. “Of course I do! That dress you wore was exquisite. It only exemplified your beauty, my love,” He took his glass of alcohol from Y/N’s hand. “No one holds a candle to you.”

“Not even me?” Yvette teased. 

Eris’s lip curled. “Yvette, as much as I value our friendship and I like your company, please don’t ever say something like that again.”

Yvette only cackled and downed the rest of her drink. “I was only teasing, Eris. I know that I would never stand a chance when Y/N’s around.”

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”

Yvette’s eyes held an amused glint as she looked between Eris and Y/N. “Y/N, my love, if you are this oblivious, I don’t see what I can say to help.”

Eris shushed Yvette. “Stop telling Y/N my secrets.”

Yvette chuckled before standing from her chair. “They are far from secrets, Eris. I’m heading to bed and from the looks of it, you should take Eris before you get a headache in the morning. I don’t want to deal with your fathers old advisors so early in the morning.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “Goodnight Yvette.”

Y/N waved goodbye to Yvette and she only sent a small wink Y/N’s way before slipping out of the room. 

“I’ll head to bed too, I think,” Ansel said, also standing from his seat. “It seems like I am out of drink.”

Eris didn’t seem to hear as Ansel’s chair scraped back on the floor. He was too busy filling up his glass to do anything else. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ansel,” Y/N said. 

Ansel bid a quick goodbye before slipping out of the room leaving Y/N and Eris alone. As soon as Eris placed the bottle down on the table, Y/N began to stand up from the arm of the chair. 

“Where are you going?” Eris asked, his hand gently gripping onto her. 

“Well there’s two free chairs now,” Y/N commented. 

For a very brief moment, Eris seemed to pout but it quickly faded away. Y/N only smiled. 

“Stay here,” Eris said. “I want to be close to you. I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“You saw me this morning,” Y/N replied. 

“That is too long,” Eris said, and offered Y/N his glass. “I wish to be by your side all the time.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say, words failed on her tongue. She hadn’t a clue what Eris meant by his words. The underlying romantic tone in them was mostly just wishful thinking on Y/N’s part. But if there was a possibility that they were true…

Y/N took a sip from Eris’s drink and handed it back to him. Eris took a long sip for himself. Y/N knew she should stop him from drinking any more. She was sure that if he got even more intoxicated, he would not remember anything in the morning. 

“I have a meeting with my father’s old advisors tomorrow,” Eris said. “Most of them want their old positions back.” 

Y/N wasn’t sure what to say. Despite being Eris’s friend, she was never involved in the politics of the court. She was only a seamstress after all. 

“I don’t want to give their positions back, they were the most despicable males I have ever met,” Eris continues. “I know that I will have Ansel and Yvette there but can you be there too? I don’t know if I can dismiss that many people without you.”

“Eris, you know that I don’t have a clue how court politics work outside of basic knowledge,” Y/N replied.

Eris clutched onto her hands tighter, seemingly afraid that she would walk away. Y/N had no intention to. “Please Y/N. All you need to do is sit there for me. I always feel better when you are around.”

“You’re only asking me because you are drunk,” Y/N said. “If you were sober you wouldn’t be asking.”

Eris frowned. “No, not at all!”

The arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist tightened and Eris pulled her closer until she was situated on his lap instead of the arm of the chair. Y/N let out a small gasp of surprise and clutched onto Eris. His arms circled her waist until she was securely seated in his lap, feeling warmer than she did a few moments ago. Though Y/N wasn’t sure if it was because of Eris himself or the rising heat spreading throughout her body. 

Eris had never been too physical with her. Occasionally he would hold her hand or give her a long comforting hug, but nothing ever went beyond that. This was entirely new territory. Y/N felt herself relaxing. 

“See,” Eris said, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I told you it was more comfortable.”

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the cheek of his tone. It felt nice to see him so relaxed. “I guess it is.”

Eris smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her bare shoulder. Y/N stilled. 

“What was that for?” she asked. 

Eris only did it again. “Just because I love you.”

Shock was evident on Y/N’s face as the words left Eris’s mouth. 

“What did you just say?” Y/N asked, wanting confirmation. 

“I said I love you,” Eris said, clinging to her tighter, burying his head into her neck. “I love you, Y/N.”

“You can’t mean that,” Y/N said. 

Eris didn’t reply. All he did was press small soft kisses against her neck. Y/N’s body felt as if it were on fire. And by now she knew that it wasn’t Eris. 

“Eris,” Y/N said, pulling away from him the smallest amount. “You are drunk. You don’t know what you are saying.” 

“I know perfectly well what I am saying,” Eris replied. “I love you, Y/N. I always have and I always will.”

“Are you being serious, Eris?” Y/N questioned, still not believing his words. 

“Deadly,” Eris replied and took a sip from his drink. 

The room was quiet and Y/N was worried that Eris was able to hear how fast her heart was beating. In his intoxicated state, Y/N hoped he didn’t. The two remained silent as Eris finished off the rest of his drink, his hand laying on Y/N’s thigh the whole time. Everytime Y/N moved, Eris’s grip only became tighter. 

Just as Eris went to reach for the bottle once more, Y/N stopped him. “Perhaps you have had enough for tonight.”

Eris looked at the bottle thoughtfully before pouring out a very small amount of drink. He downed it in one gulp. 

“For confidence,” he said, his words becoming increasingly slurred. 

Y/N didn’t get a chance to respond as Eris’s lips crashed onto hers. It caught Y/N off guard as she fell back slightly, though Eris held her up. Their teeth clashed and it was not like anything Y/N imagined a kiss with Eris like. Partly because when she imagined it, Eris preferably wasn’t intoxicated and was in complete control of his body. 

After her shock fell away, Y/N gently pushed Eris away. His lips only chased after hers as she did so. 

“Eris,” Y/N said softly. “Stop.”

The amber of Eris’s eyes met Y/N’s and she hated the look within them. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “That was stupid of me.”

“No,” Y/N said, gently cupping his face. “No it wasn’t. But perhaps we can talk about it tomorrow when all of your senses are intact.”

Y/N slipped from Eris’s lap and she instantly felt cold. She took her heels off of her feet and allowed her feet to rest on the cold floor. Eris remained in his seat, looking down at his hands. He twisted a ring around his middle finger. The ring Y/N had bought for him for his five hundredth birthday nearly forty years ago. He had never taken it off. 

“Well,” Y/N said, holding out her hand to him. “Are you coming?”

Eris looked up at Y/N, his eyes lightly glistened with unshed tears and Y/N’s heart broke. “Where are we going?”

“Bed,” Y/N said. “You need to sleep before the meeting tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Eris said and shakily clambered to his feet. 

As he stood up, he lightly swayed on his feet and Y/N quickly reached out to steady him. The moment her arms held onto his biceps, Eris reached out and pulled her body to his, enveloping her in a hug. Y/N hugged him back, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I love you, Y/N,” Eris confessed. “I can’t keep it a secret anymore.”

“Eris,” Y/N whispered. “We can talk about this in the morning when you actually realise what you are saying.”

“I know what I am saying,” Eris said. “I just wished that I could have told you when I was sober.”

“You can tell me in the morning, Eris,” Y/N replied, pulling away from the hug. 

“I’m afraid I won’t have the confidence in the morning,” Eris admitted. 

Y/N caressed his face. “If your words are genuine I believe that there will be nothing to worry about. Now come on, before you fall over and drag both of us down.”

Y/N carefully and slowly helped Eris to his room. The doors were a struggle to open but as she did so, she was shocked at what she saw. It had been at least six months since Eris had become High Lord of Autumn and the most unexpected thing was how bare his room was. It was as if no one lived inside.

As Y/N helped Eris through the threshold of the room, Eris seemed to shrink into himself. “Can I sleep at your house tonight?”

“Eris, that is at least a two hour walk from here,” Y/N said. 

“I can winnow,” he replied.

“And possibly take us thousands of miles away in the state you are right now,” Y/N said. 

Eris sighed. “Okay, fine.” he let go of Y/N and began to stumble his way to the bed. The sheets were pristine, as if Eris hadn’t slept in them in ages. 

“Y/N,” Eris called out as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Can you stay with me? I don’t want to be alone in here.”

Y/N’s eyes softened. “Of course.”

Only a small smile appeared on Eris’s face before he began to dress down to his sleepwear. Which consisted of only his underwear. As she turned back around, she gasped at what she saw. 

Scars. Many of them. Large ones across his back that shone silver in the moonlight. Smaller ones littered his torso and chest, but none were as bad as the ones across his back. 

“Eris, what happened, my love?” Y/N asked, walking over to him. 

“My father is what happened,” Eris said. “Any act of disobedience and the scars are what I received. My mother had a healer who would always help me after any of my fathers beatings. The scars that remain were the worst of them. I received them just there.” Eris pointed over to the fireplace and the seating area surrounding it. “That is why I try to avoid sleeping here as much as possible.”

“If I knew that I wouldn’t have brought you here,” Y/N said, shifting on the bed. 

“It’s okay,” said Eris, looking at her for the first time since entering the room. “It feels better to be here now that you are here too.”

“Are you sure you want to sleep here tonight?” Y/N said. “I am sure that there are other rooms we can sleep in.”

“None of them have any bedding since I dismissed most of the staff my father hired,” Eris explained. “I will be fine here, with you.”

Y/N offered him a small smile. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Eris replied. 

Y/N nodded and took one of Eris' shirts to sleep in as he got comfortable on the bed. She watched him constantly move to find a comfortable position but it seemed as if he couldn’t. 

Once she slipped into one of Eris’s shirts, she moved over to the bed, slipping beneath the covers. Y/N could tell that they were brand new and had never been slept in. Y/N moved so she was laying behind Eris. The scars on his back were even worse up close and Y/N wished that she could rewind time to make Beron pay even more than he already did. Y/N wasn’t a particularly violent person but what she would do to Beron if she somehow found a way to time travel, she was sure it would even make the shadowsinger of the Night Court deathly afraid. 

Y/N shuffled closer to Eris and carefully wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing herself against his back. 

“What are you doing?” Eris asked. 

“What I should have been doing every single night since you became High Lord,” Y/N answered. 

She pressed soft and gentle kisses against the scar that ran across his upper back and she felt Eris sigh in contentment. 

“I am lucky to have you in my life,” Eris mumbled. 

“No, I’m lucky to have you,” Y/N said, holding onto him tighter. 

Eris threaded his fingers with hers and relaxed in her hold. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” Y/N said. “Now try to get some sleep.”

“You’ll be here in the morning?” Eris asked.

“Eris, I am never leaving you again,” Y/N replied. 

Eris didn’t respond as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Y/N made sure that he was fully asleep before drifting off herself, holding Eris within her arms. 

***

When Y/N awoke the next morning, she immediately knew where she was. Within the night, Y/N and Eris had switched positions and now she was wrapped within Eris’s arms. Y/N laced her fingers with his. 

“I was wondering when you would wake up,” Eris muttered against the top of her head. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You could have woken me,” Y/N said and shuffled around to face Eris. “I wouldn’t have minded. How is your head?”

“Surprisingly I haven’t woken up with as bad of a headache as everyone was expecting,” Eris said before some of the light left his eyes. “Y/N, I just wanted to say that I am sorry for last night. I shouldn’t have said all of those things. You must have been uncomfortable–”

“Eris, I am going to cut you off there,” Y/N said. “In no way, shape or form did you make me uncomfortable last night.”

“But I made you sit on my lap, I made you sleep in bed with me, I confessed– I confessed my feelings,” Eris said, avoiding eye contact.

“You also kissed me,” Y/N said.

Eris’s eyes widened. “I did? Gods, Y/N I am so sorry.”

“Eris,” Y/N said, caressing his cheek and forcing him to look at her. His beautiful amber eyes were full of regret. Y/N wanted to change that. “Do you remember exactly what happened last night?”

“Not all of it–”

“Not all of it, so do you remember what happened just before we fell asleep?” Y/N asked.

“No, I just remember falling asleep after you climbed into bed,” Eris answered.

“Well before we fell asleep, you said that you loved me,” Y/N said. 

Eris sighed. “If this is just a way to tell me that you don’t feel the same–”

“Eris you seriously don’t remember what I replied,” Y/N said, fighting the smile threatening to appear on her face. 

Eris shook his head.

“I told you that I loved you too,” Y/N confessed. 

“You did?” Eris asked, a small smile toying at the corner of his lips.

“I did,” Y/N said. “And I do mean it, Eris. I do love you. I am in love with you.”

Eris pulled Y/N’s body closer. “I am so glad to hear you say that.”

“I am so glad to finally say it out loud,” Y/N said. “I have loved you for a long time, Eris.”

“I have loved you even longer,” Eris said. “Possibly the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Y/N smiled. “Kiss me, Eris. And let us pretend that this was the first time.”

A tinge of red appeared on Eris’s cheeks. “Gladly.”

This time, the kiss was sweet and gentle as Eris seemed to pour all of his emotions into it. This was more what Y/N imagined what kissing Eris would feel like. Y/N could feel Eris smile into the kiss. 

“That felt like more of what I imagined,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.

“So you’ve imagined kissing me?” Eris questioned as he cupped her jaw. 

Y/N sheepishly glanced down for a brief moment and it was confirmation of her answer. 

“Well, it is only fair that I have fantasised about kissing you as well,” Eris muttered. 

“We still have a couple of hours until your meeting,” Y/N said. “We can stay here for as long as you like.”

Eris smiled. “I wish I didn’t need to go to the meeting so I could stay here for eternity with you.”

“Your meeting is for an hour, I’m sure you can survive that,” Y/N replied. 

Eris chuckled. “I am sure you are overestimating my restraint around you, Y/N. You have no idea how hard it has been keeping my feelings for you a secret. First it was because I didn’t want my father to know how much you meant to me. I never wanted him in the vicinity of you. And secondly, I just thought you would never return my feelings. You always mentioned never wanting to date or find a relationship.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “You can be so stupid sometimes, Eris. The reason why I didn’t date or find a relationship was because I was in love with you.”

Eris scoffed. “So you mean to tell me that I have been torturing myself ever since I became High Lord when we could have been sleeping together like this the whole time?”

“I’m afraid so, darling,” Y/N said, kissing the tip of his nose. 

Eris scrunched up his nose and chuckled. “Well now we have all the time in the world.”

Y/N smiled, her heart skipping a beat. “Yes we do.”

“How do you feel about moving in here? I’d like to finally feel comfortable in this room and I think a large redecoration is in order. Perhaps building a balcony to allow light inside. My father did always deteste natural light. We can decorate it so it feels homely, and not a torture chamber. A large ‘fuck you’ to my father,” Eris aid. 

“I would want nothing more,” Y/N said. 

“Perfect,” Eris said. “If we start after the meeting, we can get all of your things moved in by nightfall. And–”

“Eris,” Y/N said, cutting him off with a light chuckle. “Please shut up and kiss me again.”

Eris smiled. It was the most genuine and loving smile she had ever seen grace his beautiful features. “It would be my pleasure.”

Eris kissed Y/N once more and she felt herself falling in love with him all over again.

[bibuckaroo]

i need to talk about this because this is very important to me:

yes, khun is down bad for bam and we KNOW that, but we need to start appreciating the fact that bam is down bad for him too and he’s just as embarrassing about it, like, this is not one sided, guys. the only difference is that bam always has a lot of shit going on, while khun always only deals with bam related problems.

but examples of bam being down bad:

• always singles khun out in a group, he’s the first person he sees and unless someone else interacts with him, he continues to only focus on khun, to the point that endorsi herself talks about this more than once, because she’s jealous that bam isn’t paying attention to her.

• while bam doesn’t like seeing any of his friends hurt, he usually doesn’t stop them from joining fights if they insist on it, he’ll just do his best to protect them. but here’s the thing: if he can help it, he doesn’t even let khun join a fight in a physical way and when khun looks like he’s going to leave his post in his lighthouse, bam explicitly tells him not to do that because it’s too dangerous, because to him khun belongs in the safety of his lighthouses, strategizing and protecting their friends.

• at the end of the day, the person bam is going to open to will always be khun. this is explicitly made aware when he bids both endorsi and yuri good night (two people who are his close friends and he’s known for years, and could’ve open up to at anytime) because they said they were going to rest, but when khun tried to do the same, he stopped him and asked if he could speak to him about the master key. very important!!! bam also wants to be the person khun opens up to, but every time he manages to ask him something personal, they get interrupted (looking at you, endorsi).

• bam actually stated it himself that khun ‘is his most precious friend’ when talking about why he was protecting ran, in terms of him being khun’s brother. enough said about it, khun is already on a whole other level to anybody else, and how insane it is that he’s willing to lay down his life for ran because he knows it would upset khun if anything happened to him?

• RACHEL HERSELF POINTED OUT THAT KHUN IS BAM’S PRIORITY!!! when she asked bam why he was giving her a fair chance in terms of getting the thorn fragment, literally her first assumption was because she had saved khun’s life.

• i also feel that is important to point out that while bam may not want khun in the direct line of danger, there is no one he trusts more than khun, because he knows that at the end of the day he can take care of himself, he just wishes he wasn’t put into a position where he had to. like in the sweetfish situation, he had a choice of where to go and he chose to go to hoaquin because he knew khun was with the sweetfish and he trusted khun to have a plan, even though he was worried.

• lastly, i need to mention this because i have never seen nobody talk about that: bam tries to hold on to the image of himself from the test floor in his interactions with khun a lot. after his time as jue viole grace, every time we see him interacting with other characters we see him serious and determined but rarely smiling, even with his old friends, but with khun i noticed a lot of instances that he does the closed eyed smile to reassure that everything was fine and while a part of me wants to believe that the only reason this happens is because khun just brings out this side of him, i also believe that is because (at least in a subconscious level) he believes that is the version of himself khun grew to care for (since we know bam segregates his personality, since his sworn enemy is the version of himself that is jue viole grace) and if he’s not that version anymore, will khun still care for him? (welp, this just got really angsty).

to end all of this: basically, i feel like we talk a lot about khun and his obsession with bam (affectionate) but we don’t talk enough about bam’s with him because his moments are always more subtle and usually get lost in everything else that’s happening on bam’s life.

and i noticed that we, in the khunbam fandom, tend to be able to read khun better (he truly is easier to read) than bam, but now this post makes me want to do a character study on bam.