#and if anyone wants to witness my OCs you should go look through there :3

[medeaft]

OC Deep Dive: Kai

Tagged by @porcelainseashore and @essie-essex. Thank you! <3

I have decided to do this with Kai (mine, not Porcelain's, of course), who is the Tremere Sire of my Bloodlines self-insert, and who was executed not nearly as permanently as some would expect (but that's a story for another day). I don't feel quite right calling it a deep dive, it's hardly that, but they are interesting questions, even if it does not nearly describe him wholly; and since this is apparently the name of this ask game, I'll leave the title as it is.

The picture is a portrait of him I painted earlier, it links back to the original post. I'll put the questions and answers under the cut, since it's long.

. ⋆ ˖ ⁺‧ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽˖⁺✩⋆◯⋆✩⁺˖☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ‧⁺ ˖ ⋆ .

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

He actually doesn't have many; not ones that stick around at least. To be sure, he'll be afraid when he can see a bad outcome threatening; but that will pass as the situation is handled. He is prone to worrying about his loved ones however, and his Sire, Emmeline, might be the one he worries about with the greatest frequency.

Do they have any pet peeves?

He has very little patience with intrigue. Especially people trying to get his cooperation in conspiracies without telling him the truth of what they are trying to involve him in. If anyone comes to him saying something like "there is no need to tell [trusted ally] this, it doesn't merit their attention/would only worry them/they already know", he agrees to nothing and immediately makes sure to tell [trusted ally] all of it first thing, even if he doesn't understand what they actually wanted and doesn't personally see the harm in it. There probably was going to be harm in it somehow. He's not here for the conspiracies, he's here for the magical studies, which are a much better use of both cloak and dagger.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

3 items? There are 3 000 000 items in his bedroom, and you can't find even one of them… Only he knows where he ever put anything, but he remembers exactly. These include, selected for no particular importance:

A Rubik's cube

A compass (the orientation kind)

A compass (the drawing kind)

What do they notice first in a person?

Behaviours; to wit, in context rather than by themselves. (Sitting on a bench at a train station and looking upward at the arrivals-departures display, sitting on a bench at a park and looking upward at the swaying flowering branches, and sitting on a bench in front of a house and looking upward at the lit windows are distinctly different behaviours.)

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

4. He'll get through it if he has to, but he is very aware of the function of pain as a warning of something that should not be that way, and he will not make it a point of pride to needlessly go through harmful things, he will remove himself at his earliest convenience.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? (or freeze and fawn)

Flight. That's not a permanent solution though. He might not articulate it this way (unless he is asked), but he is aware that if someone is engaging him unexpectedly (whether that be openly framed as a battle or not), that makes it a battleground that the other chose, and that consequently favours them, even if he doesn't know yet why; this fact informs his instinct that if there is any uncertainty, he would rather remove himself and choose a different time and battleground of his own liking, one where his opponent is the one surprised and, if possible, at a disadvantage.

What animal represents them best?

From an outside perspective, a cat. He looks attractive, non-threatening, charming even, socially presentable to have around; but you'll eventually find him doing atrocities, and he won't feel even a little bit bad about them; and then he'll rest peacefully sitting in weird positions, possibly draped across his friends' laps. A lot more loyal than many expect, because he's simply not very hierarchical about his loyalties. Also enjoys his hair being petted, but naturally only those he is close to are aware of (or have permission to do) this. From his own perspective, a scorpion. He likes them and thinks they are cool, and if he had a different form, he would want it to be a scorpion.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Cute young guy, friendly, probably into metal, what with the symbols and the piercings. A bit creepy, but probably harmless.

Do they have any hobbies?

Reading comic books and watching television are certainly hobbies he has. He also likes puzzles he can solve by manipulating objects physically (the Rubik's cube is a good example here, but there are many others). He doesn't consider learning new things to be a hobby; as a Tremere, that's his main vocation and goal in unlife.

. ⋆ ˖ ⁺‧ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽˖⁺✩⋆◯⋆✩⁺˖☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ‧⁺ ˖ ⋆ .

I had to redo this because there was something wrong with the post originally. Sorry about that to anyone who sees it twice.

Tagging @master-of-shenanigans, for when you are ready to return; @viiihouse; @ridiculus-mus (I know you do too have characters you wrote, they don't have to be VtM ones! I want to know more about them!! :D), and tagging back @porcelainseashore in the hopes that you do this with more characters!

[pengweng-quack]

Being a Witch with Vampires

Carlisle Cullen x Witch!OC

Summary: Stella (A witch) and Carlisle (A vampire), and how they blossomed from roommates to friends(?) to partners

Chapter 4/7

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Notes:

This was inspired by this fanfic on tumblr by lis-likes-fics titled "In My Defense, I Was Left Unsupervised"

This is also on Ao3 under the same title and same username too if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53448940)

Posting is random lol, hope you guys enjoy this story

Word Count: 3710 words

TW for this chapter: None

Timeline: End of New Moon to start of Breaking Dawn (there is some Eclipse moment, just not a lot)

Masterlist

“How are we gonna do this?” Rosalie asked after receiving some sort of message from Emmett in an apparent “Operation: Get Carlisle and Stella to Make Up and Make Out”

“Well, we need to trap them together first.” Emmett said

“Trap who together?” Alice asked, walking in on the two of them discussing

“Stella and Carlisle.” Emmett answered

“Ooh!” Alice said, joining in the discussion

“I heard Carlisle and Stella discussion.” Jasper said, joining the three of them

The four of them started discussing of ways on how to get them to talk to each other again. It was obvious that they didn’t have much planned. That was until a knock on their door was heard

“Who knocks on our house?” Rosalie asked, speeding and opening the door for whoever it was.

“Stella!” Rosalie greeted, a grin on her face spreading

“Where’s Carlisle?” She asked in a rush, her whole body tensed

“You’re talking to him now?” Rosalie asked her with hopeful eyes as Alice, Emmett, and Jasper enters the room, shocked to see Stella

“Where’s Carlisle?” She asked again, and it seemed that she wasn’t gonna let anyone distract her from her main purpose of visiting

“Here.” Carlisle said, it seemed like he had done something but no one could pinpoint what it was

“You and I are having a long chat.” Stella hissed angrily, dragging him in the kitchen of the house by the ear. From the looks of it, Stella could have pulled Carlisle’s ear off in anger.

“Should we worry for him?” Jasper asked, sensing the tensed atmosphere

“No, he’s at fault. He’s getting his karma.” Rosalie said, sensing that they were about to witness an angry witch

“What’s happening?” Edward asked, entering the house with Bella

“Stella and Carlisle.” The four answered in chorus

“You foul vampire!” Stella angrily yelled at the vampire, who was sitting down on one of the island chairs like a child that was about to be scolded “You can’t do that!”

“Dear—

"You can't just leave and come back and think that I'll be accepting you with open arms!" Stella angrily yelled at Carlisle, who cannot do anything other than to listen at her outburst

“You can’t casually send me an email as an apology thinking I will forgive you with just that!” Stella hissed, shaking from holding back her tears

“Because you know I will!” Stella yelled, frustratingly running her hands through her hair “You know I’ll always forgive you, I just wanted to hear it from you instead of some stupid email!”

"Stella—

"You can’t just persuade me to join a night’s out and get me to go home only to have all of you gone!” Stella continued, her tone louder than the last

“You can’t do that!” She cried, pointing her fingers at him and doing everything in her power, literally and figuratively, to not show weakness at this vampire she once trusted

However, she was unable to conceal it from Carlisle. As the next thing she knew was how she felt Carlisle’s cold but comforting arms around her, pulling her closer to him, and allowing her to cry on his chest. Stella always hid any sort of weakness to anyone, in fear that it would be used against her. It’s what they taught to her growing up. But she felt vulnerable, knowing that the guy she had discovered to be her mate may and can abandon her at any time.

Carlisle had never seen Stella break down as she did now in all the centuries that they've known each other. He was devastated to learn that he was the one who had led her to have such a big breakdown. He had long suspected that she was his mate, and his suspicions had been confirmed. And it was only after he departed that he understood how badly he screwed things up. Because he opted to depart rather than remain with her. He opted to be self-centered. With his selfishness came the risk of losing his mate by his side.

“I’m sorry.” Carlisle muttered repeatedly, rubbing her back and holding her close to him. He vows on that day to never leave her again; he has all of eternity to fix his relationship with her. And he’s gonna start now.

“My confident witch, my star, my Stella, I’m so sorry for hurting you this way.” He whispered, leaving pecks of assurance on the temples of her head “It was selfish of me to leave you after what had happened.”

“You l-left.” Stella cried, though it was muffled from the fabric of Carlisle’s shirt “You a-all left. You left u-us.”

“And it was the worst mistake that ever came across my mind.” Carlisle comforted, rubbing her back and playing with her hair “Leaving you is the worst mistake that I have ever done. And I apologize for hurting you this way.”

Carlisle made no attempt to make her stop because she deserved to let out all of the grief that she had been holding in for months in order to be strong for both herself and Bella.

“I’m sorry mi amor,” Carlisle hushed, looking at Stella’s swollen face “I will never, ever leave you again. Unless you want me to.”

“N-no.” Stella argued almost immediately “Never leave like that again, I need you.”

“Then I will never leave.” Carlisle decided at once “You will never be alone again, I will be with you from now on until the end of eternity.”

“You better be.” Stella said, a small laugh coming out her lips

“Come, it seems like you haven’t gotten a lot of rest.” Carlisle offered

“Will you be there when I wake up?” Stella asked, looking at him with hopeful eyes

“I will be with you until my heart stops beating.” Carlisle announced at one

Stella blushed at what Carlisle had said, wanting nothing more than to hold on to Carlisle’s words. She was still wary, Carlisle knew that. But he had all of eternity to prove that he would never leave her like that again.

And that eternity starts today.

“What’s happening?” Bella asked everyone who was listening intently just outside the kitchen

“Either we’re getting Stella back in this house, or I’m throwing Edward for suggesting that we leave Forks.” Rosalie said in an annoyed tone, getting Emmett to have a small proud smile on his face

"Let's not blame each other." Bella said, trying to ease the atmosphere

"Stella and Carlisle have always had this sort of relationship where you don't know if they're together or not. I can't possibly be at fault alone." Edward defensively said

“They’re each other’s mate!” Rosalie hissed angrily “They know that! And we know that!”

“Carlisle wouldn’t be this protective of Stella if she wasn’t his mate.” Jasper agreed with Rosalie

“I can’t believe we have a coven leader who has never asked his mate to be with him for eternity.” Emmett said, showing frustration at how Carlisle handles his relationship with Stella

“Because we play a part in getting them together.” Alice said, just finishing having a vision

“What’d you mean?” Edward asked, even though he could read into her mind

“We plan it out.” Bella said in realization “We see what we can do to actually get them to tell each other what they feel, given that they haven't said anything to each other yet.”

“What are you thinking?” Rosalie asked, hopeful that Bella actually had a plan on helping Carlisle and Stella to be together. It was the first time that Rosalie actually wanted to listen to her

“What are you planning?” Stella’s voice boomed from outside the kitchen, Carlisle behind her like some lost puppy

“Nothing!” All of them said in chorus. Even though Stella knew that it wasn’t just ‘nothing’

“Come, you need some rest.” Carlisle invited, his arms making its way to rest on Stella’s waist

“I think the fuck not.” Rosalie said, walking to Stella and hugging her, pulling her away from Carlisle “I missed you so so so much!”

“If it ever comes down to choosing between you and Carlisle, count me on your team.” Emmett teased, hugging Stella next as Rosalie pulled away

“Count me in too!” Alice gleefully said, tackling Stella in a tight hug

“Just for Carlisle, I’ll stay with him.” Jasper joked before hugging Stella “But I will make sure to miss you every day and influence Carlisle with it too.”

Edward was last, he was awkward while moving to Stella and facing her. He had a speech in mind before Stella tackled him to a hug

“Never ever be a dumbass again.” Stella said, feeling Edward hug her back

Carlisle watched as they all hug Stella, a content smile on his face. He didn’t know what could still happen, seeing as Bella was still human and Stella was on the Volturi’s watchlist.

But he was now back with his confident witch.

All is well.

~2006~

“Fighting again?” Stella asked an anxious Carlisle

“A newborn army, and no, you’re not joining the fight. You’re staying with Bella and Edward.” Carlisle quickly instructed, earning a groan from Stella

“I’m not babysitting two horny teenagers!” Stella argued, while Edward let out a ‘hey’ from upstairs “I’m gonna fight!”

“You’re not gonna—

“Who are you to stop me?” Stella asked in a dangerous tone

Her question caught Carlisle off guard. Who was he to be this protective of her? Was he willing to let her know his suspicion that she was his mate?

“I know I’m your mate and all but come on!” Stella whined “You can't be too protective of me, especially when I'm capable of handling myself. What good is being the blessed witch of today if I never use my abilities?”

“You know I’m your mate?” Carlisle asked, a hint of glee in his tone

“And you ignored the other part, of course you ignored the—

Carlisle had lost control of himself, 286 years of being with her, 280 years of pining. He ran in and grabbed her by the waist, kissing her on the lips in the process. The warmth of her body was pressed against the coldness of his. It was contrasting but it was perfect for the both of them. Her warm hands found its way to rest on his chest, taking support. They would have continued in that position for much longer if it hadn't been for the witch's need to breathe.

“I’ve waited bit too long for that.” Stella teased, wrapping her arms around Carlisle’s neck. The both of them having giddy smiles on their face

“I hope it was worth the wait.” Carlisle teased back, before going in for another kiss, pulling her closer to him

"Carlisle, we have train— that explains the emotions." Jasper said, seeing what was happening between their coven leader and his strong witch

"It's not what it looks like." Carlisle said defensively, pulling away from Stella. Before leaving the room, Jasper only nodded. But Stella knew he wasn't going to believe anything Carlisle said, especially since they'd all been waiting decades for them to get together.

“You seem so offended with the thought of us together.” Stella said, crossing her arms, and frowning at Carlisle

“Mi amor, I've been waiting for this for a long time; all I ask is that they don't find out through Jasper or Edward's abilities.” Carlisle comforted, wrapping his arms around Stella’s body. Smiling as he rests his head on her shoulders

“We have training!” Emmett shouted from outside the door, most likely receiving instructions from Jasper not to burst in.

~~

There were flying bodies everywhere. All the vampires are being destroyed by the Cullens or by the wolves.

“Carlisle, watch out!” Stella screamed, too far away to help Carlisle since two vampires were focusing their attacks on her.

Rosalie stepped in to help Stella beat the two vampires. Carlisle ran up behind Stella, refusing to be separated from her for the remainder of the fight. They were each other's eyes and ears, guarding one other against the vampires that wanted them dead.

The two was about to kill another vampire, though she showed hesitancy in fighting back. Carlisle looked at Stella, who was already looking at him, and knew what this would mean for them. She was young and it looked like she didn’t even know that this was the purpose as to why she was changed.

And soon, the battle between the newborns and the Cullens and wolves came to an end. Edward informed everyone that the Volturi are coming and that the wolves should leave. Carlisle informed their pack leader that he would follow soon to take care of Jacob, who had his bones broken from a newborn.

“Impressive. I've never seen a coven escape an assault of this magnitude intact.” Jane said, seeing glimpses of the burning vampires

“It’s only because they have a witch on their side.” Alec said, a chuckle escaping his lips

“What would a weakling like her do to an assault like this?” Jane snickered “Surprised that she’s still alive.”

“She’s more than capable of fending for herself.” Carlisle said, pushing Stella behind him.

Even though he knew Stella was capable of protecting him and herself, he was still afraid. He left the Volturi on bad terms centuries ago, but he didn't simply disappear. He pulled Stella into his mess, dragging her into the messy world of being a vampire in a world full of vampires that didn't think witches and humans were worth anything. He was now afraid that this was his long-awaited retribution, and that Stella would be the one to pay the price.

“It appears we missed an entertaining fight.” Alec said, looking at the vampire bodies burning near them

“Yes.” Jane agreed “It's not often we're rendered unnecessary.”

“If you'd arrived a half hour ago, you would've fulfilled your purpose.” Edward said, in annoyance of the Volturi’s presence

“Pity.” Jane said, before her eyes averted on the newborn behind Carlisle and Stella “You missed one.”

“She’s with us now.” Stella immediately said, taking a step forward

“We offered her asylum in exchange for her surrender.” Carlisle added, backing his confident witch up

“That wasn’t yours to offer.” Jane disagreed

“Nor should you offer any punishment as she surrendered herself.” Stella argued before stabs of pain was in her body. Stella let out a yell, dropping to the floor, and realizing that Jane was using her abilities on her.

“Stop!” Carlisle yelled, shaking Stella as she groans from the pain “She has nothing to do with this!”

“Oh, she has everything to do with this.” Jane said, looking at her

With Jane’s comment, she launched one more assault on Stella, knocking her out cold because of the excruciating anguish she was experiencing.

~~

“She’s waking up! Call Carlisle!” Stella heard a voice call, and multiple footsteps come in and out the room. But what was dominant was the pain in her head.

“Carlisle is in the middle of a surgery!” Another voice yelled, knowing that Carlisle would want to do some check-ups on her before allowing her to go back to moving around

“How are you feeling?” Alice’s sweet voice asked, trying to block the noise from everyone that was panicking

“Shit.” Stella muttered, opening her eyes and adjusting to the bright light of the room

“How does it feel, Jane’s power?” Bella asked her, wiping her forehead with cold wipes

“Like thousands of knives have been stabbed in me, but not so much.” Stella explained “How long have I been out?”

“Like 6 days or so.” Bella answered “Carlisle has been more anxious lately since he expected you to wake up after 3 days.”

“Do you want anything?” Rosalie asked

“Carlisle, maybe.” Stella said, frowning from the lack of presence from her vegetarian vampire

“Of course, she’ll ask for Carlisle.” Jasper grinned, knowing how much information he and Edward were withholding from those who couldn't sense emotions or read minds.

 “Carlisle’s on the phone, he wants to talk to Stella.” Edward said as Bella and Alice helped Stella to sit up. Stella grabs the phone from Carlisle and ushered everyone out the room to give a little bit of privacy between him and her

“Hello, mi amor.” Carlisle greeted, and even if he wasn’t in the room, Stella knew that he had a wide grin on his face

“Hi Carlisle.” Stella greeted back, a soft smile creeping on her face

“How are you feeling love?” Carlisle asked

“I don’t know how to explain it.” Stella answered honestly

“Throw words, I’ll understand you.” Carlisle comforted. Despite the fact that she knew it was because he was a doctor, Stella felt butterflies in her stomach because Carlisle seemed to understand her effortlessly, despite the fact that what she was saying no longer made sense.

“Dear, I know that I have my way to your heart, but you have to let me know what you’re feeling.” Carlisle teased Stella, followed by a light giggle, in an attempt to bring her back to her senses.

“It’s just there’s pain in my body.” Stella started explaining “Like there’s something in me just poking my head and sending pain all over.”

“Anything more?” Carlisle asked with a hum

“I don’t know. I think I just need my vampire with me at the moment.” Stella said in a low voice but she knew Carlisle got that

“Well, your vampire is needed at the hospital at the moment. Would you like any of the vampire kids to substitute in the time being?” Carlisle asked her “Or human, if you’re preferring Bella right now.”

“Eh, we’ll see later.” Stella shrugged “You go back to work now; I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Yes, you better stay in bed and rest, mi amor.” Carlisle reminded her

“But—

“If I get informed by any of the others that you left bed today. I won’t give you your daily cuddles.” Carlisle threatened, earning an angry gasp from Stella “I have not done any of my check up to you, I’ll need to make sure that you’re perfectly alright now.”

“Fine.” Stella could only mutter angrily before ending the call

“They’re together, aren’t they?” Rosalie asked from outside the door. They shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but it was Carlisle and Stella, and they have been waiting forever for them to end up together

“No.” Jasper and Edward answered at once

“Are you serious?” Emmett asked

“Yeah, they haven’t made anything official yet.” Edward answered to them

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

~~

Edward and Bella were on their honeymoon at Isla Stella, an island Carlisle bought for her way back the 1900’s, spending time alone as a newlywed couple while the rest of the Cullens stayed back.

“100 dollars, and we’re coming back with vampire Bella.” Emmett said, throwing the 100 dollars on the coffee table

“100 dollars and we’re not coming back with vampire Bella.” Rosalie intervened, throwing her 100 dollars next to Emmett’s 100 dollars

“Not coming back with vampire Bella.” Jasper said, throwing his 100 dollars with Rosalie’s money

“1000 dollars in the not having vampire Bella yet.” Alice said, grabbing 1000 dollars and placing it with Rosalie and Jasper’s money

“Are you betting the outcome of their honeymoon?” Stella asked, walking in and seeing the dollars on the table

“…no?” Rosalie answered, though it came out like a question

“2000 dollars and we’re not having vampire Bella until later.” Stella said, using her magic to make 2000 dollars appear on her hands and dropping it on the coffee table

“I don’t think so though.” Emmett disagreed, grabbing his wallet and dropping at least 300 more dollars on the table “I saw what Alice packed for Bella, I think dear Edward is to lose control.”

“Are you betting about Edward and Bella?” Carlisle asked, resting his body on the doorway. Stella turned around and saw her vampire, wearing a fitted button up sleeve that made her witch heart beat just a teeny bit faster

“Yes.” Stella confessed, a cheeky grin on her face

“What did I say about betting?” Carlisle reminded everyone

“That they shouldn’t do it with me.” Stella answered for them, grinning widely at him

“You really are a bad influence to our kids.” Carlisle said, an endearing smile on his face as he moves to where she was, resting his hand on her waist and pecking her forehead

Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper, and Alice exchanged smirking glances. They could see where this was going and couldn't wait. It had been much too long since they had known and had this kind of connection, and it was time for them to be together.

“You love me.” Stella teased, a giddy smile on her face

And before Carlisle could answer, Rosalie’s phone started ringing.

“Bella?” Rosalie asked as she answered the phone

“I need your help.” Bella said

Edward and Bella were returning the next day. Bella's baby bump was visible, and Edward remained silent. Carlisle began using ultrasounds, but none of them were able to penetrate the fetal sac. And Alice was not seeing the kid or Bella in the future. Stella went through all of her literature, looking for anything on a human-vampire relationship. Looking for anything that could be of assistance.

“Shit.” Stella said in realization, understanding that she has to leave.

And when everyone was out looking for food at night. Stella gathered some of her belongings into a tiny suitcase and informed Bella and Jacob of her plans. Bella's eyes showed the grief of Stella's departure, but she accepted after some persuasion. She grabbed one of Carlisle's shirts before heading out, just to have a small remembrance of her home.

Bidding her goodbyes to Bella and Jacob, Stella quickly flew up in the sky. So high that she wasn’t gonna be visible down where the Cullens were hunting. She didn’t think that the day will come where she’ll have to come back to where it all started. She was anxious, but she didn’t want to leave her family in the dark.

She was sure that Italy had some answers to her questions.

[luxuriq]

A Flower Frozen, His » Ch. 1 | Sub-Zero (Bi-Han)

[ 18+, minors DNI ; dom/sub, degradation, rough, third pov ]

Summary: An elite brothel, The Red Orchid, has sent six girls to their newest client: the Lin Kuei, an old warrior clan. But the brothel is just a front for a highly secretive group of spies, and their objective might be more than simply offering entertainment for the warriors: their target none other than the Grandmaster himself. How will the girls - especially their leader, codenamed Iris - navigate their dangerous mission, and what will happen if they get caught?

→ Reader character is named for clarity reasons, but it's still a reader character, not an OC.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | ...

Ch. 1 words: 1090

A/N: I've recently been introduced to MK1 and Bi-Han stole my heart in an instant. I mean I should be thanking him, he got me to write again after like 3 years. ( 〃▽〃)

Chapter 1

The Red Orchid was famous for being the best establishment of its kind. Even though their name was known only to people in very specific circles, they’ve earned a nation-wide reputation for their excellent services and discretion. While most brothels offered their entertainment at the location, The Red Orchid specialized in providing long-term and at-home services for their clients. That is why their primary clientele were wealthy individuals and groups, politicians, the emperors of old and even the Earthrealm’s protectors, a warrior clan of Lin Kuei.

She carefully applied some red lipstick as the final touch to the girl’s beautiful, painted face. Just enough to elevate her already natural beauty, and enough to make the girl’s lips visible through the veil, which was coming last and would complete her look.

“And you are ready!” she nodded at the girl in front of her with a smile.

They both stood up. Their preparations were complete.

The Red Orchid offered one more service, one not known to anyone outside their walls. It was only accessible through their sister establishment that served as a false front. They offered information. For the right price of course.

All five girls were perfectly dolled-up, each one in a differently coloured outfit that complemented their body, showing a bit more than appropriate, but still just enough to tease and not reveal. She gave all of them a final once-over and then nodded in satisfaction. They were ready.

She picked up her red fan, which matched her outfit, and opened it with a flick of her wrist. She looked at the girls again.

“Let’s do Madam A proud.”

Madam Azalea was the current headmistress of The Red Orchid. She was a stern but fair woman that took great pride in her work. So even when the nearly impossible request for information came in, she accepted it. Her girls were trained extremely well, and she had her complete faith in them. However, Operation Ice Blue required her best.

“You want us to gather information on who?” the girl with the fan stared at Madam Azalea in bewilderment.

The older woman let out a long puff of smoke, “You’ve heard me, Iris. The Lin Kuei have already requested a group of our girls. Reward for their warriors or something. The opportunity is too great to pass up.”

Iris tightened the grip on her fan. “It is going to be dangerous.”

Madam Azalea brought a slender pipe to her mouth and inhaled deeply, “That is why I’m sending in our very best. And you are going to lead them.”

When Iris walked out onto the makeshift stage, she was momentarily blinded by the lights. She could hear the voices though: men cheering loudly and excitedly. She stopped in the middle of the stage, the lower half of her face hidden behind her red fan. She could see them now, dozens of the famous Lin Kuei warriors, assembled in front of the stage to witness the reveal of the entertainers that The Red Orchid provided specifically for them. All of them tall and muscular, born warriors. She even spotted some women among the crowd.

“Thank you for your warm welcome, warriors of Lin Kuei!” she called. “I am Iris, the handler of The Red Orchid’s entertainers, here on behalf of Madam Azalea. Please enjoy the performance.”

She folded her fan with a loud snapping sound and pulled a silver flute out of the long sleeve of her traditional-looking outfit. As she began to play, the remaining five girls walked on stage and began their dance performance.

Handlers were The Red Orchid’s staple. They refused to just send their girls off without any kind of support. The handlers were there to take care of the girls’ well-being, emotional and physical, and to settle any kind of disagreements between the clients and The Red Orchid entertainers. Moreover, they relayed the information gathered by the spies back to The Red Orchid. As Madam Azalea’s heir, Iris was the headmistress’ most trusted handler and spy, so naturally she was her first choice for Operation Ice Blue. The young woman also had experience in martial arts, but both knew that Iris would be no match for the Lin Kuei.

“Not much is known about the Grandmaster, except for his exceptional fighting abilities. Any kind of information we can get is going to be valuable.”

Iris stared at the hastily taken photo of the Lin Kuei’s Grandmaster as she listened to Madam Azalea’s instructions. He was scowling at something outside of the frame and his height and stature made him downright terrifying, but she couldn’t help to notice how handsome he was. Wooing him to bed will be quite a treat.

“His routine, his favourite food, the people important to him, any kind of weakness, anything could be important and sold for a good price, hell, tell us even how he is in bed.”

The performance ended with a thunderous applause and cheering coming from the gathered Lin Kuei.

“Dahlia!” Iris called the first girl’s name, and the latter took a step forward and bowed. “Astra!” She called all the girls on by one, presenting them to the audience. “Camellia! Peony! Jasmine!”

So far, everything was going according to the plan, and the girls performed wonderfully, singing and dancing in the most graceful and alluring way. Iris hoped the rest of the mission was going to go just as smoothly.

The girls started leaving the stage one by one, Iris being the last. Just before she walked off the podium and behind a makeshift stage curtain, she glanced at the crowd. She had spotted him immediately back when she first walked on stage. Just the amount of power and confidence he was exuding made him stand apart from the rest of the warriors. He was wearing his signature blue uniform, his hair tied in a bun with some lose strands falling onto his forehead. His stare was cold, unimpressed, even after their performance. And it was directed at her.

A shiver ran down her spine and Iris quicky averted her gaze, rushing down the two stairs into the backstage area. Her heart was beating fast. She had hoped the rest of the mission was going to go just as smoothly, but that suddenly felt like a distant dream. It is going to be dangerous, Madam Azalea’s words replayed in her mind. It was going to be so damn dangerous when the target of your spying mission is none other than the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei himself.

Bi-Han.

❀

Next chapter »

[lazuliquetzal]

Fic Stats Game

Ohoho thank you @tavina-writes for the tag!! Pretty sure this is gonna be the same 3 fics over and over but we'll see :)

rules: give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the fewest words.

1) Most Hits

It's AA Batteries (Daiya no Ace). I know this without even looking, it's AAB 100% and by... not a significant, but a decent lead. That thing breached containment. I'm glad that it did, because I had fun writing it, but it always surprises me because sports anime twin OC fic? Really?

But I'm glad it's my most popular fic, even if I don't consider it my best, because even if it's a canon rewrite, I finished a 100K+ fic and I am proud. I'm literally never over it, I could talk about it all day.

Like, I usually don't ship things very strongly, but Misawa is insane to me. Also, do you know how embarrassing it is to relate to Miyuki Kazuya? And not even in a 'generic repressed character' way, I'm talking in a Hey I Literally Was In His Shoes And Made The Same Exact Fucking Mistakes And Decisions way. Nobody gets Miyuki Kazuya like I do. I'm fucking Miyuki kin. I didn't ask for this. I didn't--

2) Second Most Kudos

This one is also AAB, so I'll go with first place: Reflection (The Magnus Archives). A classic. A nice and simple time travel fix-it comedy.

I remember the writing of this one because I had been utterly obsessed with TMA. It would not let me go. I drafted the early chapters on my phone while walking across my college campus. I almost got ran over by a bike when I was writing the "Martin witnesses Jon have a mild breakdown in the break room" scene.

3) Third Most Comments

Dawn of the Fourth (Linked Universe). The LU fandom is super giving with their comments! Probably the most comment-friendly fandom I've been in.

I think it also helped that DotF is one of those stories where every chapter is a punch to the throat lol. If you didn't comment after ch7, it's probably because you zoomed through haha.

4) Fourth Most Bookmarks

It's DotF again, so I'll go with third place: ain't no rest for the wicked (Naruto).

Ah, this one... I'm fond of it, in the way I'm fond of all my writing, but also I was in high school. There's a lot about it that I would do differently now. But I learned a lot from writing it, and actually Chie, Issei, and Riku are still my children and I love them all. I'm proud of the color test. :)

5) Fewest Words

If you ignore the Zelda comic and the CSS formatting test and the anonymous April Fool's fic that I will not be claiming ownership of publicly, my shortest fic is Blackout Blues (Daiya no Ace) at 1101 words. If you subscribe to the belief that a picture is worth a thousand words, then that bumps the word count up to 4101 words.

I should draw more art for my fanfic. I have the power. It's fun.

tagging (if you want!): @yellowocaballero @xxsolar-writesxx @ellie-tarts @zarvasace @dottie-wan-kenobi and anyone else who wants to!

[w0rmdahl]

the snow ; day two — ilyily

gif ©: earthgif, theseulgis

film: i love you i love you (au)

synopsis: after successfully evading the lunes who'd been hot on their tails through the night, samir and yuna awaken to a shocking discovery and find themselves against an even tougher set of odds during their second day.

word count: 5.1k

featuring: (oc) yuna min, (oc) samir devgan, oc secondary characters

warnings: descriptions of animal mutilation (sounds horrible i'm sorry but that should be it for this one!)

a/n: whew this one just kept going idk what happened anywaysss here is day 2! not proofread before posting because i took a melatonin gummy sorry <3 but also today (5/20) is my birthday so i wanted to make sure i got something out :) hope you enjoy!

yuna was the first to wake. the sweet birdsong of day warbled outside the confines of the cave as she lifted her head from its perch on samir's shoulder and turned to check the world separate from themselves, eyes immediately squinting at the sunlight beaming off of the pearly white snow. if not for the sleepy squeeze around her waist revealing the aching muscles in her back, yuna would have believed they truly had perished through the night, with the blinding light beckoning them into the peaceful heavens. but as she blinked away the sleep from her eyes and groggily moved to sit up from the hunched position she'd slept in all night, it became apparent that they were still very much alive, a groan emitting from her throat as now she felt the painful buzz in her feet.

"prin—yuna" sam stirred awake now with a gravelly voice, probably disturbed by the loss of warmth due to her movements. his fingertips danced over her spine as he too readjusted upon waking his sore muscles and looked up at the grimacing girl in his lap.

"good god, my back," she grumbled and braced her hands on his collarbones to straighten out "i think we missed first light."

samir whipped his head to make the same fatal mistake as yuna had just a second prior, a yelp bouncing off the crystalline walls whilst he turned back to her with eyes squeezed shut.

"at least we survived" he'd mumble as he rubbed the blur from his vision. yuna painstakingly pushed herself off his lap and onto her back against the harsh stone with a content sigh.

"could've done without the pins and needles, though."

"i agree with you there," he wheezed as he reached for his toes "my feet are asleep."

yuna sighed more exasperatedly this time, her top lip snagging to the side as she whined "and now we have to walk alll the way back home." she couldn't see the smile on sam's face before he'd pushed himself to his numb feet, edging toward the cave entrance and brushing his curls from his eyes with a jovial chuckle.

"maybe you could give me a piggyback ride — since my feet are numb, and all."

"you're hilarious." the princess now begrudgingly pushed herself up to follow behind him, the cape around her neck trailing behind while he lent a hand to aid her step into the outside world. "if anyone's getting a piggyback ride it's me — with your new big muscles and all."

sam statued the moment the words left her mouth, eyes sparkling in the snow instantly going wide as he stared down at her with the faint outline of a smile imprinted on his lips. she seemed to realize what she'd said only after witnessing his astounded reaction and, chuckling nervously as if to hide the obvious blush blossoming on her cheeks, gave him a soft shove to the shoulder she'd claimed as her bed last night before turning away to face the tree line. samir couldn't stop the grin that then had his own face feeling hot, contemplating on what to say for only a moment before stepping forth to reassume his place beside her.

"what about half and half?" he teased, almost hurt by the lack of response from the princess as she continued staring forward, nodding shortly to whatever had caught her focus.

"look."

as prompted, samir redirected his gaze according to her gesture and felt the fuzzy warmth in his chest run cold upon the sight of a dead deer in the snow. not just dead, however; decapitated — windpipe and vertebra visible as its stiff bloated body lied in the blood-soaked snow that surrounded, a discernable path of crimson trailing their journey home. the most alarming, however, was not the haste in which this mystery person senselessly killed the deer, but the discernable footsteps that had been plotted up to where they stood now. sam's hand instinctively grabbed hers to take a step back.

"we should go."

running hand in hand and red nosed as they ducked through the trees, samir and yuna yanked each other back to their feet after one stumbled in the snow, further venturing into the wood and away from the castle. they could still hear the hammering feet behind them as clear as when they'd first noticed it; far too close for comfort and yet not close enough to locate through the natural sway of the earth around them.

samir helped her down as they came to a drop-off in the dirt and quickly surveyed the new ground before picking a new direction and running with it. with this new path before them they could see the end of the tree line waiting before them with a great wide-open expanse of light to better locate their pursuer. all they had to do was make it — just continue pushing a little bit further than they already had — just a little bit longer.

the trek back home hadn't started this way. originally they decided to embark on the longer path home following along the outskirts of the tree line with their guard high, sam's fingers brushing the pommel of his sword at each and every bump in the woods. but the further they went on their journey to avoid whatever had visited them during their time in the cave, the larger this gnawing feeling of something being off grew. yuna had a rock in her stomach the longer they walked through the woods, and eventually, she started to mask this eerie sense of danger with insignificant babbling.

"ooh! or," yuna and samir both checked over their shoulders before their attention was back on the other "we could grab a pint from the tavern and try to see the constellations from the north tower. i've always wanted to find the big dipper."

a wide-eyed look of disbelief had his brows raising as he surveyed the red, peach fuzz laden skin of her cheeks. "you can't see the constellations?" he asked with a smile creeping to his lips.

"you can?"

then, before he could respond, yuna would walk headfirst into an indistinguishable brown form dangling unseemly in the middle of their path that left a red blotch on her temple. further examination of this malformed object she'd unwittingly bumped into revealed the gruesome sight of a decapitated deer head hanging from a noose tied in the branches above. they only had the time to connect the dots before sudden crunching of snow under rapid footsteps had samir yanking her in the opposite direction as they took off into the woods.

the unfortunate pair now emerged from the trees with hope in their eyes on the new scenery other than the wide expanse of the ellyn forest they'd been lost to for the last hour. but, to their dismay, this treeless stretch of earth was no easy feat, nor a safe haven for them to pause and catch their breath in wait of whatever was in the woods; it was the frozen briar lake.

samir looked down breathlessly at the similarly panting girl beside him, "well?" he asked. she shook her head.

"i don't think this is a good idea."

"it'll hold."

"you don't know that!"

he edged closer toward the ice despite her pull in the opposite direction. "we'll go slow. all we have to do is get across."

"it's not that easy, sam" yuna whined, her features falling into an anxious frown as she dug her heels into the solid dirt below "if we fall in—"

"i'll go first." samir blurted with his toes already edging onto the ice "i'm heavier."

the perturbed princess now stepped closer to him and subsequently the frozen river below, her fingers clamping down on his whilst he treaded further onto the ice without another glance — like it had already been decided. so, with a disgruntled whine escaping her throat and obvious stress creasing her features, yuna would step onto the ice using sam's steady hand to keep stable. the slick ground under her boots brought her jaw into a tight clench before she pleaded once more through gritted teeth.

"please," she trailed off, unsure of what exactly she'd wanted in substitute. sam would conjure the most utterly reassuring smile he could while extending his arm to build distance between their weight on the ice.

“it'll be okay, yuna."

he spoke knowingly, tenderly as he slowly released her hand.

"trust me."

it came out like a plea of his own.

and so; she did. yuna suspended her disbelief and placed her trust in the soft brown eyes encouraging her now as she eked forward, shoulders tensed and back rigid as if to lessen the impact on the royal blue ice. the incessant wind biting at their noses hissed across the lake like a devilish laugh-track to the divine comedy these inept teenagers found themselves starring in, roaring louder at the pounding footsteps in the snow growing in proximity. yet sam remained steadfast in his comforting exterior for the tense girl tailing behind his meticulous footsteps.

"that's good," samir cooed, taking sliding steps backward with his eyes only on hers, working one foot at a time toward the midway point. "just like that. you got it." his heart would ache at her short nod despite the anxiety in her brow growing more apparent.

"just a little further, okay?"

she'd respond like a child fighting tears; voice high and wavering as her eyes bore into his. "okay..."

the pounding steps behind them grew to be near deafening in their ears as it perpetually inched closer and closer, instigating the heavy thrum of their weary hearts though neither would even dare to peek as the other side of the shore waited only a few more steps away — just a few seconds longer of feigned bravery and it would be over.

"we've almost got it yuna, just keep your eyes on me."

his only reply would be the restrained whine caught between her lips pressed tight together.

and then, while shifting his weight onto his left foot just a tiny — mere — few feet from safety, a ghoulish groan seeped through the sliver of a crack under sam's boot. he stilled instantly in order to quickly assess the situation they'd found themselves in, but as this tiny splinter in the ice began to crack outwards around him, he found himself stuck in place without any idea of what to do next.

crack.

sure, he could probably save himself, but yuna was really the only thing on his mind. what about yuna?

crack.

should he move? should he toss her to safety? could he even execute that?

crack!

knocked like a bulldozer in the ribs sam gasped in anticipation for the numbing waters that lurked below — but, instead, found himself gasping at the impact against his back into unforgiving dirt. his fingers would fist the snow below as he sat up to find a hole in the ice where he once stood that revealed the hellish black depths lurking underneath the frozen lake, the silhouette of yuna gone and replaced with the animal hunting for them on the other side.

there, wide-eyed on the shore from which they'd came, stood a bestial man adorned in lune-style armor heaving with the bloody axe in his white-knuckled grip. a taunting smile grew as his eyes made contact with the knight-to-be and he would offer samir nothing more than a hoarse chuckle before turning away and disappearing back into the wood.

"yuna!"

his focus was back on her in an instant. samir dove chest-first into the edge of the shore to plunge his arm into the water, icy depths searing the flesh up to his bicep when his fingertips carded through a cascade of hair, now submerging himself further until the numb met his shoulder. suddenly he was clamping down on the cloth meeting his palm, and then he was dragging her out by the wrist, pulling her soaked form into him while simultaneously throwing themselves back ashore.

upon looking down at the princess tucked into his side, samir would find yuna's skin to be alabaster white, lips purple and wet eyes struggling to focus as she shivered. if not for the dire circumstances they'd found themselves in she could've been mistaken as the world's greatest art piece — like a greek sculpture; with monotoned skin akin to stone that displayed her perfectly-sculpted features in the bright midday light. but the short, labored breaths just barely raising her chest would work to spur samir back into action as he hooked his arms around her shoulder blades and under her legs to lift her. "i'm so sorry, yuna."

he was already pleading, with the princess or the gods — he wasn't sure.

"just — just keep your eyes open," braving the wood once more he pushed onward with shuffling footsteps through the snow and past the thick trunks that surrounded, puling over the abrasive sound of the crunching ice. "i'm gonna get you warm, just keep your eyes open. can you do that for me?"

yuna's complete and utter lack of response was more than enough to pick up sam's pace. at this rate he needed to find a solution — and fast. the subject of his lifelong devotion was actively running out of time with each second that passed and the longer it took to get her warm only brought the heavens closer to reclaim one of their angels. this thought made his stomach turn in tandem with the swirling anxieties in his mind and urged him further to pick up the pace, his frantic eyes scanning for anything and everything that could be of use.

it all looked the same, to his dismay, but as he searched through the nearly identical landscape of ice and trees around him, he could see what looked like another clearing in the woods. the fearsome yet courageous boy seemed to be offered hope once more as he now broke out into a full sprint — or as much of a sprint as he could muster considering the circumstances — and held the frozen girl tighter as if to hold on to this hope.

'it'll be different this time,' he thought 'it's going to be different this time.'

samir always did have a way of willing things into reality. yuna used to say that he had magic inside of him that brought his wishes to fruition — though she stopped saying this after one of the nuns became suspicious. the point is; strange phenomena had occurred around sam all of his life as long as he believed, so he snuck up on the second clearing with undying optimism housed in his calloused palms.

and there it was; the relief to the harshest struggle he's ever had to face. like an answer to his prayers, samir stumbled into the clearing to find nothing more than an innocuous looking house whose chimney was already billowing with grey clouds, a middle-aged woman sitting inside the window looking down at something.

"fair lady!"

although he was too far to be heard and likely seen as well, samir didn't waste time in willing his way to get help from this red-haired woman in the house, walking all the way up to the front steps before she'd noticed him. he'd watch with wide puppy dog eyes put forth as her eyebrows furrowed, then turning to say something over her shoulder before she moved to open the door.

"hello there." she said cautiously. the mysterious woman stood at a meager height in the doorway closed against her side, obviously on guard and yet still strangely warm towards the amateur adventurers on her doorstep.

"i apologize for disturbing you, fair lady, but the princess is in dire need of aid. i'm afraid she may freeze soon if not warmed up."

suddenly the door would open further, a large hand wrapping around the wood above the mysterious woman's head to reveal a much taller lady hidden behind her. she did not read as kind or welcoming as the first, with her furrowed brow and lips pressed into a thin line at the sight of these two teens. and yet, the ginger woman would offer a short nod as she analyzed the celebrated princess in the arms of this lanky, floppy haired boy before her.

"alright, but leave your sword at the door."

samir nodded fervently. "of course. here," turning the stained metal on his hip towards them, he offered the blade with a tightening grip around the princess in his arms, watching as the shorter woman went to grab it before the latter stepped in front of her. she made direct, intimidating eye contact with him as she took the pommel in her hand, unsheathing the sword to then place it against the wooden wall.

"follow her."

the ginger woman now turned on her heel for sam to follow after, his full attention on the broad lady shadowing his heels while they passed the kitchen to enter the den. a strong fire crackled in the hidden corner of this room where a comfortable and home-y looking lounge chair sat, motioned to by the ginger woman.

"lay her here."

samir obliged instantly and carefully laid yuna down on her back, only now noticing her sickly color. she looked like nothing he'd ever witnessed before — like a being from nowhere that had blue-hued skin and icicles for lashes. a firm hand landed on his shoulder.

"listen," said the short woman, "i need you to go upstairs and find clothes that would fit her. we need to take off the wet clothes."

sam's guard began to raise again, shaking his head at the request from the mysterious woman he'd deemed as asinine. "no, i have to stay with her." now the curly-haired lady spoke up from behind him.

"you're needed elsewhere for this, devgan. upstairs on the left."

there was a moment where he nearly turned — almost instinctively reached for the sword missing from his hip — but the kind green eyes of the frail woman before him made him pause. of course they knew who yuna was, everyone in elora had to know their royal family, so when the divine day of her birth came it had been announced far and wide for all to hear. — but him? that he wasn't so sure about.

the kind woman nodded back towards the stairs they had passed with a reassuring smile, "she's in good hands. women's linens are worse than a maze. i'll have amina call you down once we're done."

it was only then that samir understood why exactly they wanted him out of the room, not because he had something to worry about, but because they worried about him. with a short breath he'd inhale the musky fire smell to settle the lingering pit of suspicion in his stomach before conceding to the task laid out before him, ultimately abandoning yuna with these peculiar strangers to explore the second story of the home in search for fresh clothing.

their house was rather incredible to be quite frank. not only had the wooden walls been built tall enough to accommodate the broad woman, amina, but the tables in the den had actually been made accessible for the shorter of the pair. it seemed that they had been the ones to build this home in the middle of nowhere, surrounded only by the thick foliage left formerly un-adventured by the ellyn wood natives, yet almost perfectly cleared into a circle of short grass around the home. it was like a kingdom of their own, really.

by this point, samir had spent countless hours analyzing the space around him as he sat with yuna beside the warm fire, noticing even the smallest of details like the worn-in footsteps leading to the garden. every so often he'd look up again to check on the sleeping beauty who'd been swaddled in a wool blanket by the ladies of the house, and a smile would curl his lips once more as he reminisced on the summers they'd spent watching butterflies emerge from their cocoons.

fortunately, the princess's natural color had come back by now, and though their kind hosts said that she would likely be fine by morning samir still couldn't sleep until he saw that she was okay. so here he was; well into the darkest hours of the night just waiting for the beloved girl to wake.

which is why he nearly leapt from his seat on the floor when a hand met his shoulder. if he hadn't been a little more careful he swore his skeleton would've jumped right out of his skin. samir whipped his head over to look at the owner of the hand — only to find the groggy looking eyes of yuna staring back. he was turning to face her in an instant.

"hey," he cooed with a tender smile, fire-warmed fingertips reaching to touch her rosy cheek. "hey, yuna. how are you feeling?"

after a few more slow blinks her brows would furrow as she noticed the room around them, the sturdy wooden walls far homier than the cave they'd slept in last. she'd groan and grumble for a moment while squirming in the blanket before finally unraveling it around her waist so she could prop herself up on an elbow. "where...?"

samir readjusted to help un-cocoon her legs from the wool as he explained, "it's okay, we're safe here for the night. the two generous ladies of the house said we can leave with their map in the morning."

yuna was now pushing herself to sit up, aided once more by the gentle hand on her spine and attentive eyes on her every feature. she took just a second longer to really survey her unfamiliar surroundings with narrowed eyes before then looking back to samir on his knees before her, dark circles under his eyes despite the blithe smile on his lips. she reached out to grab his shoulder again.

"are you okay?"

"am i okay?" the tired-eyed boy would chuckle "you're the one we're worried about, yuna. how are you feeling? any numbness? cold? confusion?"

yuna sighed and pulled away to rub her eyes, "no, nothing...well — confused about how we got here. and where we are."

samir's lips would part just before he began to fill in the gaps, but the soft tapping of footsteps on the other side of the room would catch the princess's attention, subsequently pulling his own gaze to peer over the side of the couch. from the doorway separating the den and the kitchen stood the red-haired woman from before with a steaming bowl in her hands, the motherly smile on her face emphasizing the wrinkles at the edges of her eyes under the fire light.

"you're just a few miles south of the kublai river, your highness. this is my home."

the frail woman would dutifully tip her head towards the princess in a short bow before taking careful steps closer to offer the bowl in her hands. "amina and i prepared a hearty stew for your quick recovery." her warm grin would grow brighter as yuna accepted the dish, "it's a pleasure to meet you, your highness. i'm orla."

the now-embarrassed princess offered a meek nod in return, both hands clutching the warm bowl as she thanked the kind woman stood at the edge of the lounge chair. her lounge chair.

"thank you very much, orla. i'm glad to make your acquaintance — and i appreciate your generosity."

"oh, no matter" orla waved her off with a jovial chuckle "i'm delighted to be of help. you can finally put our guest bed to use."

yuna would hum offhandedly and mutter "you're very kind" in passing, only to be met with an overwhelming intentness within the older woman's response. it was the most off-putting samir had seen since their initial meeting with the way her smile fell and her brows raised, her tone so matter-of-fact he would've thought it was a popular saying.

"you can accomplish by kindness what you cannot by force, your highness."

the teens seated before this peculiar ginger woman, orla, would share a not-so-subtle look with one another before either decided to speak. and when samir's lips would part just prior to his follow-up question, 'is that a publilius syrus quote?', orla would speak again with a resumed motherly glow in her eyes.

"the two of you have a long day ahead, so i'll leave you to it. please don't hesitate to knock if you need anything. i hope you rest well, your highness."

and once again, in the manner she always had when growing up with an image to uphold, yuna would thank her graciously with a genuine smile on her face that met her sparkling brown eyes. orla offered the final tip of her head before exiting the den and the puzzled pair now whipped to look at each other.

"that was...odd..."

sam nodded in agreement, "yes. yes it was."

yuna would then shrug as she fished the spoon from the bowl, always pointing out the silver lining in every situation. "still got some stew out of it, though." she was honestly thrilled just to have something in her stomach after not eating for a full day — even if it was mostly liquid. so much so, in fact, that she wouldn't notice the fond eyes watching her every movement; notably massive mouthfuls of stew being ingested. it was only when she finally felt it hit her stomach that she looked up to find samir's loving gaze on her, cheeks growing red as she wiped the broth dripping down her chin.

"want some?" she offered to cover the embarrassment she felt. sam would simply shake his head. "no thank you, i ate already."

he'd watch the princess nod politely before looking back down into the bowl — away from his eyes — and giggle sheepishly to herself while she scooping another spoonful. then, just as she began to lift the utensil to her mouth, yuna looked back up at him.

"so, how'd we get here, again?"

sam smiled. "i'll tell you before bed."

"she kept the pot boiling just for me?"

sam tossed the comforter over the mattress. "yep. i told you; orla has only been extremely kind. i would've expected that stunt from amina if anything." he then traveled to the foot of the bed to tuck the blanket in, the view of the back of his head unfaltering yuna's questioning as she stood by the doorway wrapped in the wool.

"but why? what does it mean?"

samir, though exhausted and running entirely on fumes to continue providing her with answers, then turned to motion to her now-made bed. "i'm not entirely sure yet, yuna, but i think a good nights sleep may help."

the princess, who stood barefoot in a nightgown only covered by the blanket around her shoulders, would giggle as she picked up on his totally subtle hints. she'd offer a short nod in acceptance of bed time and ambled to the left side of the bed before climbing on top of the covers — a movement that kicked samir right back into autopilot. he'd tip his nose to offer their version of the customary bow for royalty and turn on his heel to exit her 'chambers,' stopping only when yuna called his name.

"where are you going?"

sam turned back with his lips in the shape of an 'o' indicating that he, too, was puzzled by this compulsion of routine. though, expecting to lie in bed with the princess was...impossible — presumptuous, even. he didn't even stop to consider it being a possibility, so as naturally and nonchalant as he could muster, samir pasted on a chivalrous smile. "i'll just be downstairs. sleep well, yuna."

he wasn't given the chance to move even an inch before she was responding, "wait — why? that's a horrible idea."

"huh?"

"you're gonna sleep on the lounge? so you can be strangled in your sleep by whatever beast is out there looking for us?"

sam's shoulders slumped inward on himself. "you think i'd let that happen?" even from his disappointed stance by the door he could see yuna as she sat forward to catch his eye before responding in a sickly sweet tone that made his ears hot under the dark strands of tousled hair.

"i think you're tired, sammy."

sammy. it nearly made his knees weak — though that could also be the impact of the day finally taking its toll. no one had ever called him that, not his father nor anyone else in elora, it was always the proper and prudent samir. only sometimes did he get called by sam, though the vast majority of those times were from the one and only yuna who'd began when they were 11. but this one was special — why? he didn't know — but it made his insides warm and gooey, and his lips sweet like candy as his tongue darted out to wet them.

"i'm well rested." she continued with a sweet smile on her face like she knew his current ailments. "i could keep watch for a while."

sammy couldn't help the nervous chuckle that had a goofy grin on his flushed face. "your hi — yuna...what are you suggesting?" her quiet giggles in the silent home would only have his cheeks growing darker.

"we're not in the castle, the rules don't apply here. remember?"

honestly, he did not. by now he could barely keep his eyes open so it wasn't far fetched to believe he just forgot what he'd been calling the princess, though the wonderful thought of sleeping beside said princess was heavily outweighed by the anxieties of having laid with the princess. if the king found out —

yuna spoke up again. "sammy." she called. his attention was back on her. "it's alright. come on. it's my turn to take care of you now."

and so, with a breath caught in his throat and his heart hammering against his chest, samir would apprehensively walk to the right side of the bed before taking off his shoes. he'd undress his outer clothing with a nervous gaze locked on the princess sitting patiently in her own undergarments, finding her eyes to be looking up at the ceiling until the moment he slid under the cool covers. she'd then do the same with a beaming grin.

"see? you didn't combust into flames or anything!"

sam chuckled and looked over at her through the dark lashes of his heavy lids. "i think i'm already in heaven."

yuna paused. 'he must be really tired,' she thought 'he probably didn't even mean to sound that fond.' with a chaste pat to his chest the princess would feign ignorance and swallow the feelings welling in her throat.

"get some sleep, sammy."

[baelonthebrave]

'til queendom come, ch. 8

[masterlist] [Ao3] [playlist]

aemond targaryen x targaryen oc

wordcount: 15,870 😮‍💨

ch. 8, fire and blood: ���Prince Aemond and I are to march on Harrenhal, take it back from your father.”

She shook her head. She felt so numb. She could not remember the last time she had felt anything that wasn’t agony. “What authority does Prince Aemond have to make such a decision? Where is Aegon?”

warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-typical incest, abusive parent/child relationship, nsfw/18+, rough sex, choking, mentions of canon sexual violence & abuse (including against minors), spoilers for HoTD/F&B

a/n: tags have changed for probably the last time in the story, so double check and stay safe <3 asks, reblogs, likes, replies are like crack to me. I am the mouse hitting the pleasure button until I die. *drops this and runs the fuck away*

The days seemed to blur together as Sena was held in the Tower of the Hand. Once for guests, her room had been converted to a cell with the door barred from the outside and everything that could be fashioned as a weapon ripped out. She knew she should be grateful that they had not just thrown her in a Black Cell and left her to rot. Still, it was somehow equally aggravating to be a dragonrider who bested the King himself but somehow be too gentile to be kept in the cells with the rest of the prisoners of war. She paced the floor and tugged at the ill-fitting cotton gown they’d given her. She had no idea where Rhaenys was, only knew she’d been pulled from the carnage around Meleys’s body, blessedly still living and in good health, and taken back to King’s Landing in chains. Aegon had not been so lucky. Sena had winced when she’d seen her older cousin dragged from the battlefield, burnt and twisted. She’d done that, she had realised, with a sickening twist in her stomach. Groaning and moaning, King Aegon II had been spirited away into a wheelhouse for the ride back to King’s Landing, tended to day and night by maesters.

Sena’s only indication that he still lived was that she hadn’t had her own head struck off.

Months. That was how long she paced that floor, took her meals alone and yelled out through the door to anyone who would listen. The only people who ever came into the room were the servants and Ser Criston. Not Alicent. Not Helaena. Not Aemond.

Sena had laughed when she’d heard Aegon had sacked his grandfather as Hand and replaced him with Cole. Cole was clever and filled with enough spite to carry this war, that she knew, but Ser Otto had engineered all of this from day one, lurking in council meetings and pouring poison into his daughter’s ear. If Aegon wanted to truly win that throne he sat on, Sena would have counselled him to hold faith with his grandfather. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“You’re going to drive me to insanity,” she snapped at Ser Criston one day. He stood before her with the simple missive he had drafted to keep her up to date on the war, although she suspected it was a heavily edited version as it only ever seemed to bear bad news for her side of things, as though trying to convince her resistance was futile. For example, this newest one stressed that whilst Jace was currently combing Dragonstone for wayward seed of their house who would be capable of mounting dragons, he had been incapable of finding a rider for Silverwing. Sena did not point out that being incapable of finding a rider for one dragon did mean he had successfully found riders for two. Two more to their already vastly more impressive score of riders than that of the Greens. “The maid who brings my meals and draws my baths does not even look at me. How am I supposed to keep a grip on my wits if my own family won’t even speak to me? All I have is you, and you despise me.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. He looked handsome, out of his heavy plate armour and dressed in more simple garb, the pin of his office gleaming on his chest. But his was the sort of treacherous beauty that Sena instinctually mistrusted on sight. It was like one of those carnivorous plants from Sothoryos that Helaena liked to read about, the sort that drew in insects with their pretty colours and then snapped shut around them. Her father had that sort of beauty. She’d seen it in Aemond too, that day on the battlefield, his hair pulled back from his sharp features, his armour gleaming. 

“I don’t despise you, my lady,” Cole told her, and the sympathy in his voice made her shudder. “Keeping faith with your father was just about the only honourable thing you could do in your situation.”

Sena could not help the smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth as she thought of how Daemon’s blood had looked on the front of her dress. I did not even do that, she thought grimly.

“I’m sure you understand that the Queen Mother, the Queen and Prince Aemond are all kept busy by their duties,” he said. 

“Then why are you here?” She snapped. “That is a clear lie, my Lord Hand. If anyone has no time in the day, it ought to be you. At least tell me how they are.”

“The Prince-“

“I didn’t mean Aemond,” she cut him off. There was no part of her, no piece of her being that was ready to confront the mess the two of them had made for themselves. “Tell me how Helaena is, how Queen Alicent is.”

Cole sighed and looked at her.

“Please, Ser Criston. From one soul who loves them to another. Please tell me.”

“There’s not much to say, my Lady,” he said with a shrug. “The Queen Mother is throwing herself into every small council meeting, every letter coming and going to keep her mind busy. And Queen Helaena- she is not well.”

Sena’s heart was pounding in her ears. “Then let me see her,” she breathed, drawing closer to Cole and taking one of his hands in hers. She would beg if she had to. “Let me do what I can to ease her suffering, Ser Criston. Let me at least hold her.”

To his credit, Ser Criston looked to be genuinely struggling. His throat bobbed, and his brow was furrowed deep. “You know I cannot do that,” he said.

“Why not?”

“The King, the Prince-“

“Fuck them,” she rasped, her throat burning at the thought of Helaena all alone, lost in her grief. “This is about Helaena, Ser Criston. Not Queen Helaena, or Princess Helaena but our Helaena. The girl we have both known and loved since she was a child.”

He sighed, blinking back tears, went to say something then thought better of it. He stiffly pulled his hand from her grasp. “I’m sorry, my Lady. I’ll bring you a book next time I visit, to assuage the boredom.”

Sena threw up her hands in frustration, tears of anger spilling from her eyes as he turned to leave. Well, thank the Gods, a book was bound to solve all her problems, she thought bitterly. But she would not lose her temper at him, would not lose the only human contact she had in the entire keep.

She would have been as well throwing her dinner plate at him, though, as the next visit was so dreadful she wished it had never come. Ser Criston laid a copy of the Seven Pointed Star on her dressing table, then turned to face her. The missive in his hand was crumpled, as though he’d been stressing on how much he ought to tell her, and instead of reading it to her he simply handed this one over.

With one son dead and one daughter in chains, it seemed Daemon and Rhaenyra had finally decided to send the rest of their children to safety. As Prince of Dragonstone, Jace was to stay with the black council and Sena could all but hear Baela refusing to go anywhere without him, but Joffrey and Rhaena had been sent to the Vale of Arryn, ostensibly to lend protection with Joffrey’s Tyraxes. As for her youngest brothers, Aegon and Viserys had been sent East on a ship. 

However, the ship had not made it clear of the Gullet before it had been attacked by the Triarchy of Free Cities that Ser Otto had enlisted to the Green cause. Jacaerys had immediately rushed to his brothers’s aid, along with his new dragonriders, Addam of Hull - now Addam Velaryon by royal decree, supposed bastard son of Laenor - and the peasant girl, Nettles. But a third of the Velaryon fleet had been dashed on the Gullet, young Viserys had been taken prisoner and Jace-

Jace.

Sena stopped reading.

She looked up at Ser Criston sharply, her throat going tight. “Ser-“

“I take no pleasure in telling you this,” he said grimly.

“Like fuck you take no pleasure in this,” she spat and knocked the copy of the holy book he had left on her dressing table to the floor. He flinched but did not move to pick it up. What did he- what did any of them know of holiness, piety, virtue?

Jace was dead. Sweet, handsome Jace who should have been a King. His gentle smile, his strength with a sword that always caught her off guard, his piss poor High Valyrian, all gone in the blink of an eye. “Oh Jace,” she breathed, tugging at the neck of her dress in an attempt to get some air. The room seemed stiflingly hot all of a sudden. “Jace.”

With him went Viserys, for all they knew. With him went Vermax and Stormcloud, her brother Aegon’s dragon. With him went a little more of her light and love.

“There’s more,” Ser Criston said.

She clutched at her stomach, feeling nauseous. “More?” She hissed. Her cheeks were damp. “I don’t have many brothers left, Ser,” she moaned.

He shook his head. “Not your brothers,” he said. “Prince Aemond and I are to march on Harrenhal, take it back from your father.”

She shook her head. It was all too much, far too much. She felt so numb. She could not remember the last time she had felt anything that wasn’t agony. “What authority does Prince Aemond have to make such a decision? Where is Aegon?”

“Incapacitated,” he told her grimly. And now she knew why he had not told her that earlier, because the small thrill it sent through her was shameful but emboldening. She had done that. Then the guilt twisted inside of her. He was still her cousin, how could she be so cruel? This war was turning her into a shadow of her former self. With every child lost, every great destiny wiped out, she felt herself becoming a crueler, harder person. But why was Ser Criston telling her now? “Aemond wears the crown, serves as Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm.”

Sena’s heart lurched. Aemond, crowned in Valyrian steel and rubies. Would he truly wear it better than his brother, as he thought he would? Or would his head bow under the weight of it also? “What does it matter to me?” She hissed. “My father is a seasoned battle commander, rides the Blood Wyrm, defends one of the strongest keeps in the realm. What could you hope to accomplish?”

“You will be accompanying the Prince and I to Harrenhal as ransom,” he told her, “so your father might give it up without a fight.”

Oh Gods. Oh no. Hysterical laughter climbed her throat. She was torn between telling him Prince Daemon would not trade a hot meal for her, let alone Harrenhal, and the creeping fear that he would, just so he could have her back at his mercy. And that scared her more than anything else. “I’m not sure I am the ace you think I am, Ser Criston,” she sniffed. Her nose was running and she swiped at her cheeks with her sleeve angrily. “My father and I are not exactly the image of familial harmony.”

He shook his head. “Perhaps not, but it would be shameful,” he said, “not to pay the ransom, not to take that deal. His eldest daughter, hale and healthy, still a maiden, in exchange for a burnt out shell of a castle.”

She could not help the little smirk that teased at the corner of her mouth at the thought. “Come now, Ser Criston,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. “When has my father ever known shame?”

That was how she got out of that tower cell, though. Shackled at hand and foot and immediately bundled into a wheelhouse in the courtyard before she could catch a glimpse of the Prince Regent, yes, but at least she was past the four walls of that room.

The wheelhouse hit every bump in the Kingsroad and her tailbone suffered for it. Still, no one spoke to her. Not for days, not for the weeks it took to venture North with an entire army trailing behind them. She was left to her thoughts. Her ruminations, her tears, her dark spirals of dread. Jace, Luke, Jaehaerys. The only people she saw all day were the guard who took her to relieve herself in the woods and the cook who served her meals. When she was led away from the column of the army during a rest break to piss, King Aegon’s men leered at her. “Oi! Dragonrider! I’ll give you something to ride,” one man hollered at her, and Sena yanked at the chains around her wrists, desperate to go choke the life from him with the cold steel. But her guard had a firm hold of her and led her on at a shuffle. The men’s laughter echoed in her ears. 

Her head whipped around, this way and that, searching for Vhagar in the sky.

The guard - Jarrad, she’d heard his commanding officer call him - dutifully stood with his back to her as she relieved herself. She looked down at her chains, wondered how far she would get if she choked him out now and ran. Not so far in a thin cotton gown, shackled at hand and foot, with few places to run and hide in the scorched Riverlands. Aemond would hunt her down by sunset. “Where is the Hand of the King? Where is the Prince Regent?” She grumbled at the guard. “Shouldn’t one of them be making sure their high-value hostage is being held securely?” She was a Targaryen, she had been a dragonrider and she was the entire conceit of their plan to get Prince Daemon to give up Harrenhal without a fight. It was almost insulting that they were ignoring her like this.

The guard shrugged a little uncomfortably, not looking back at her. “We got told, ma’am, before we marched. The man who lets you escape will watch his wife and children hung, drawn and quartered. The man who molests you will be fed his own cock. The Prince Regent was quite clear, m’lady.”

She shuddered. “That’s one way to inspire loyalty,” she muttered with a grimace as she righted her skirts and bent to wash her hands in a nearby stream. Jarrad turned around and offered her a hand up. She took it gratefully. “You can relax, Ser Jarrad. I won’t run away.” Moons ago, back on Dragonstone, she had thought of it. She should have then. But she had too much unfinished business to run from all of this now.

“‘M not a knight, it’s just Jarrad,” he mumbled. “But thank you.”

She nodded. “Please excuse Prince Aemond. He is a good man underneath it all, I promise,” she said with a grimace.

Jarrad raised an eyebrow in confusion. “We heard you were trying to slice him in half at Rook’s Rest, m’lady,” he said, eyeing her shackles.

Sena pulled a face. “Yes, well… he upset me,” she said. “How far to Harrenhal?” She looked around, trying to spot anything to be used as a landmark. Between Aemond’s army and her father’s, they had made short work of this scarred land. Every field her wheelhouse rolled past was scorched, every town pillaged. It made her sick.

“Head of the column says not far now,” he told her. “Three days, mayhaps.”

Three days. Three days to come up with a plan before there was a bloody battle for Harrenhal. But what plan could she come up with, held prisoner as she was? She looked to the guard. “Do you have a wife, Jarrad? Children?” She asked as he followed her back to the column. She was dragging her feet, she knew, but finally someone was speaking to her and she was desperate not to be left alone again so soon.

“A wife, m’lady. Her name’s Marigold. We live in Fleabottom for now, but we’re saving to get somewhere nicer before we try for a babe,” he told her.

She gave him a soft smile. “Well, see, now I know Marigold’s name, so I definitely won’t run from you,” she said. He returned her smile uncertainly. “I’m going to do my best to get us home safe and end all of this, Jarrad. Then you and Marigold can move out of Fleabottom.”

He nodded, but she could tell he didn’t quite believe her. “Are you married to some Lord, m’lady?” He asked out of politeness.

Something in her gut twisted and she glanced overhead for Vhagar once more. “No,” she said with a sigh. “That wasn’t on the cards for me, Jarrad.”

His nod was stiff but he did show some sympathy at the sadness in her voice. “Don’t despair, m’lady. The Gods have a plan for us all.”

Sena agreed with him now more than she ever would have before. She just wasn’t sure if she wished to know what the Gods had in store for her.

She only grew more uncertain when the monstrous Harrenhal loomed into view and its drawbridge simply fell open at the sight of the approaching army. The men at the head of the column faltered at that and if Sena squinted out of the window, she could see Ser Criston directing his horse this way and that in the confusion, white cloak snapping in the wind behind him.

Then, the sound of Vhagar’s wings in the skies above echoed like a thunderclap, and Prince Aemond at last descended to the scorched fields before Harrenhal. He was so far away she could only tell him apart from the others by his hair.

If Vhagar had happily set herself down on the fields before Harrenhal, open on all sides to attack, slow and sluggish as she was, it could only mean that Caraxes wasn’t here. And neither was her father.

What in the Seven Hells was going on?

After much confusion and distant arguments, the column jolted back into motion and the head of King Aegon’s army trooped into Harrenhal’s walls. The larger part of the army began to set up camp around the keep, but Sena’s wheelhouse was drawn right into the courtyard.

When Jarrad finally freed her from the carriage, she shuffled out in her shackles into the yard. Harrenhal was even larger than she imagined, even more dizzying than when it was viewed from a distance. Her head spun as she looked up to try and see the heights of the twisted towers. The stones had melted when Aegon the Conqueror had descended from the sky on Balerion and burned Harren the Black and his sons in their beds. The ruined towers still smoked, a century and then some later. 

When she looked back down to the assembled men before her, she was greeted with the sight of a harried Ser Criston sharply questioning a man in the heraldry of House Strong. “-we had no choice, my Lord Hand. When Caraxes came down from above- it was either surrender or die.” 

“Is he truly not here?” Sena asked. They all turned to look at her - except for Aemond, who was resolutely looking anywhere but at her. When the Strong castellan could only shake his head weakly, Sena could not help the mad burst of laughter that bubbled out of her throat. “So you’re all saddled with me for no good reason?”

Prince Aemond’s jaw twitched. “You,” he said sharply to her guard. “See that the prisoner is found a suitable cell and guard the door with your life.”

“His name is Jarrad, Aemond,” she said even as Jarrad started to lead her away by her shackles. “And mine is Sena, if you don’t remember.”

He still did not so much as look at her, only gritted his teeth.

Jarrad only got her halfway across the courtyard before they stopped at the sight of a harried Maester. The middle aged man in a heavy robe and thick chain came rushing down the steps from the keep with a crumpled scroll in hand. “My lord!” He called in a distressed tone. The Maester went to give it to the castellan, but Aemond swept forward and snatched it from his hand before he could.

The Prince’s eye scanned the text, and they all watched with bated breath. What could have possibly happened in the time since they had left King’s Landing? No sooner was Aemond done reading the scroll than he was drawing his sword from his belt and placing the point against the Strong castellan’s thick neck. Gasps and shouts rose around them. “Fucking traitor,” he growled. “You had a choice when Caraxes descended, you just chose wrongly.”

“My Prince!” Ser Criston warned, and strode forward to grab the scroll from Aemond’s hand. He read as quick as he could whilst he attempted to keep Aemond at bay. “Gods be good… King’s Landing has fallen.”

“What?” Sena breathed as outcries broke out around her and Jarrad stiffened.

“The Black Queen’s dragonriders have taken King’s Landing, and Ser Otto Hightower has been executed…” Ser Criston said in disbelief. “Did you know about this, Ser Simon?”

Something hysterical was mounting inside of her. It was a trick, letting Aemond and Ser Criston lead their army back north to Harrenhal and taking King’s Landing out from behind them. Sena pulled at her shackles, still held by Jarrad. Over the din of the questions and exclamations from the assembled lords and knights, Sena spoke loudly. “Is there any mention of Helaena? The children?” She asked with panic in her voice.

“No,” Prince Aemond said, and at last turned his gaze to meet hers. He looked so tired and frustrated, the underside of his eye bruised a deep purple.

Ser Simon Strong used the Prince’s momentary distraction to draw his own sword and knock the Prince’s blade aside. Silence once again fell on the courtyard as the Prince turned his icy gaze back on the old knight.

“Can we calm down, please? And try to ascertain the truth of what has happened, like the honourable men we are?” Ser Criston insisted coolly, but Prince Aemond and Ser Simon were still eyeing each other, swords at the ready. 

“We know what has happened. Ser Simon has turned his cloak to my lovely sister and thought we would not notice,” Aemond said, dangerously quiet, and Ser Simon glared at him, holding his blade steady. It would not be a true match of skill - Ser Simon had grown stout and weary with age, whereas even exhausted, Aemond held himself like a viper ready to strike.

“Aemond,” Sena insisted, willing him to calm himself, pulling at her shackles in Jarrad’s grip. 

“Jarrad, I believe I gave you an order,” Aemond snapped, never looking away from Ser Simon. “See to it that it is done and she is out of my sight, now.”

“Right away, my Prince,” Jarrad said hurriedly and gave Sena an apologetic look before pulling her along with him.

“No,” Sena hissed, throwing glances back over her shoulder and tugging against her chains even as she was led away by the much larger and stronger man. Gods, Aemond, stop! Before you are truly lost, she longed to beg him, but he was not hearing her, lost in his own grief and anger.

No sooner was she out of the courtyard than she heard raised voices - Ser Simon, Aemond, Ser Criston - and the clash of steel.

At least it was over quickly.

Once Jarrad found her a tower cell, she did not see him again. Aemond seemed dead set on taking every friendly face away from her, and all she had were the maids who came in and out with food, water and fresh clothing. From what she could glean from the whispers of the maids and the guards on her door, Aemond put the rest of House Strong to the sword over the following days in his rage at losing King’s Landing and as punishment for the stain of bastardy their kin had left on the royal House Targaryen. Vhagar ate well.

The fear within Sena that there was no way to stop what was already in motion was starting to rise like a tide. 

She stopped eating, finding the food they sent her tasted like ash on her tongue and rolled around like putrid sludge in her uneasy stomach. She had one small window in the room, and confined herself to sitting in the sill throughout the day, her forehead resting against the cool glass, ignoring everyone who came and went. All she could see out the window was a small corner of the courtyard, the comings and goings of servants and soldiers. The occasional crow. Her breath misted on the window pane when she sighed.

“Again?” A woman’s voice - the one who had come to take her empty plate - sounded. Sena had not touched the supper she had been brought - it smelled like rot to her. The woman sighed. “That’s the second night in a row. You’ll get me in trouble, y’know.”

Sena huffed out a small laugh. “Can’t find it in me to care, if I’m honest,” she mumbled, never looked away from the rapidly darkening yard.

“Of course not,” the woman said coolly. “People like you never care when you tread on people like me.”

That got Sena’s attention.

She whipped her head around and caught the gaze of a tall, willowy woman. Beautiful, with long black hair and earthy brown eyes. She wore an uncommonly fine dress for a servant and a shimmering pendant about her throat. Who on earth did Aemond have serving her, that would speak to her in such an unguarded manor, even if it was deserved? “I do not know who you are to tread on,” she said shortly.

“No reason you would, I suppose,” the woman said. She dipped into a curtsey, fanning out the skirts of her dress with impressive grace. “Alys Rivers, m’lady.”

Sena swung her legs off of the windowsill and regarded the woman - Alys - curiously. “Rivers?” She asked. Some highborn bastard, then? Even the mere thought made her throat close up, her mind drifting to Jace and Luke. Dead and gone.

“Yes,” the woman said and gestured around. “This is my family’s keep. Or it was, before your Prince put them to the sword.”

Sena’s stomach twisted uneasily. Every enemy he was making was another person she could not protect him from while she was locked in a cell. “Not my Prince,” she protested weakly. She was locked up, after all.

Alys Rivers raised an eyebrow. “Could have fooled me. He speaks of you, day and night.”

Something lurched in Sena and her temper flared. “And why are you spending your nights with the Prince?” She gritted out, icy and monstrously jealous.

Alys laughed with satisfaction. “Not your Prince, eh? Don’t bother lying to me, girl, I’ve been walking this miserable realm a lot longer than you have,” she said, and Sena flushed with embarrassment at having been tricked so easily. “Don’t worry, I haven’t laid a hand on your Prince, as pretty as he is. I just report back to him about you and see his wine doesn’t run dry. It’s quite the task, right now, with you being insolent and him being rather depressed.”

Sena swallowed hard. “Why would you care if the Prince is depressed? You said it yourself, he put your family to the sword.”

She shrugged and gave Sena a little smirk. “Never said I liked my family, did I? You of all people should understand that, Visenya Targaryen.”

“I love my family,” Sena gritted out, “and I go by Sena.”

Alys Rivers gave her a smile that was all teeth. “You can love someone and not like them, Sena. Though you know that already, don’t you?” Sena chewed her tongue, did not like being read like she was an open book. Alys picked up her cold dinner plate with a sigh. “Be sure and eat everything tomorrow, for the both of us. Wouldn’t want that pretty figure of yours wasting away, would we?” Alys looked her up and down, and the feeling she sent through Sena was strange. Just like she was. Like there was something not quite normal about her, but Sena could not put her finger on it.

It was only when Alys Rivers had left and Sena readied herself for bed that it came to her. How old had she been? She had looked maybe old enough to be Sena’s mother, if a young mother at that, with fine creases around her large eyes and full lips. But she spoke as though she were an old crone and every time Sena had tried to look at an imperfection - a frown line or grey hair - her gaze had slipped off of it like water off a duck’s feathers. An exceedingly bizarre woman who confounded Sena long after she ought to have been asleep.

The next day brought the same dull parade of officers and washer women in the courtyard, but today, Sena’s mind was occupied by the strange woman. It was a serving girl who brought her her breakfast, but Sena forced it down on the off chance that Alys would return and keeping her happy would allow Sena to ask more questions. The fact that she was growing ravenous also helped her choke down the thick porridge.

After she had eaten, her eye caught on a familiar figure standing guard outside her door, through the small barred opening. “Jarrad!” Sena said with a smile in her voice, and the tall man’s head whipped around to meet her gaze.

He nodded uncertainly. “Mornin’, m’lady,” he said. There was an awkward beat of silence. “Are you… alright?”

“Yes!” Sena said, a little too quickly. “I just- I’m glad to see you, is all. I haven’t seen you since our first day here, I was hoping you were alright.”

Jarrad gave her a small smile at that. “I’m alright, m’lady. Just… worried, is all, about this King’s Landing business,” he said, but the shadows under his eyes and the crease between his brows betrayed the fact that worried was perhaps not sufficient.

Sena nodded, a lump forming in her throat. “Have you heard anything? From Marigold?” She asked.

Jarrad shook his head. “Sounds as though it wasn’t too violent, most of the casualties were soldiers and city watchmen,” he said. “There wasn’t much of a fight since King Aegon and his heirs have disappeared on the wind.”

It was the most she’d heard about Jaehaera and Maelor in months. She let out a small sigh of relief. “My closest friend is there, too, Jarrad. If your wife is anything like her, they’ll both be wise enough to keep out of trouble,” she said, trying to sound reassuring.

Jarrad nodded with a sad look on his face. “I’m keeping Marigold in my prayers, m’lady. I just hope the Gods hear me,” he said and gave an exhausted sigh. “I can pray for your friend too, if you wish?”

Sena smiled at him and reached her hand through the bars to lay a gentle touch on his shoulder. “That would be most appreciated, Jarrad,” she said.

“Are you getting paid to talk or stand guard?” Came an icy voice, and Sena stepped back from the door as Jarrad jumped to attention, turning back to his guard post. There was a rattle of keys in the door and Alys Rivers was pushing it open.

“Leave him be,” Sena warned. “It was my fault. His wife is in King’s Landing, I only wished to know if he had heard from her.”

Alys gave her a strange look, like she did not quite know what to make of that, and kicked the door shut behind her. “You do know he does not have the keys to your cell? I’m the only one with them. It’s me you need to sweet talk, if you want to escape.”

Sena glared at her, not caring at all for the implication. “That might be what would go through your head, my lady, but we are not all the same.”

Alys laughed and gave her that same strange look. “You are an odd one, aren’t you?” She said, shaking her head in disbelief. Sena did not know what to say to that, only watched as Alys crossed the room and checked her breakfast plate. “You’ve eaten. Good girl,” she said and quirked an eyebrow at Sena. Sena did not like how Alys looked at her, like she could swallow her whole. “Have you bathed?”

Sena’s eye flitted to the door of the adjoining chamber, where the bathtub was. “No,” she admitted. “The maids filled it last night, but I was-“ What? Busy?

Alys just rolled her pretty brown eyes. “Right then, get in,” she said and pushed open the washroom door.

Sena followed her through to the next room and winced. The water was from last night. Even with the fire the maid had lit in the washroom, it would be stone cold by now. “I do not mean to be a priss but I would rather not get into a bath of cold water,” she muttered as Alys closed the door behind them.

Alys arched an eyebrow. “Blood of Old Valyria, are you? The toughest, most fearsome lot of dragonriding sister-fuckers in the known world? You’re all rather disappointing in person,” She said with a little laugh. “Worry not, Princess.”

“Lady,” Sena corrected, a blush rising in her cheeks.

“And yet you act so like a Princess,” Alys said with a deriding grin. “Take off your clothes, let me worry about the temperature of your bath.”

Sena frowned but awkwardly went to pull at her dress. She was used to getting undressed before servants, of course, but Alys was no servant and had a way of looking at her like she was a meal. Her nerves - and everything else - evaporated from her mind as she watched Alys raise a hand to her pendant necklace and mutter to herself, eyes flitting shut.

The fire before the bath guttered out in an instant, and so did the pillar candles lighting the recesses of the room. Sena’s eyes went wide and she was so shocked it took her an instant to realise there was steam rising from the bath water. “How-“ her words caught in her throat, her nostrils flared.

Alys gave her an easy grin and moved for the fragranced oils on a shelf. “Do not tell me you ride dragons but you don’t believe in a little magic?” She quipped and Sena’s eyes somehow went wider.

“Magic?” She breathed. She had seen strange things in her life, things that no logician or maester could explain. Dragons bending to the will of mere humans and great beasts that stalked the Kingswood, making the very air around them shimmer. She had heard tales of things that lurked beyond the Wall, of Old Valyria, of Asshai-by-the-Shadow. But she had never seen-

“It will go cold again if you keep standing there gawping like that,” Alys said.

“Right,” Sena said dumbly, and shrugged off her shift.

Alys was swirling lavender oil into the water by the time Sena was disrobed and stepping in. The water was so hot it would have made someone else hiss, but it was soothing to Sena’s dragon’s blood. She leaned back in the water and let her curls go damp.

“You are a pretty thing, aren’t you?” Alys remarked, and Sena wasn’t sure whether she should be embarrassed or proud. “The swordplay has made you strong and a little mannish, yes, but you still have lovely breasts, full hips. And your face… yes, I can quite understand why the Prince is so taken with you.”

Sena reached up to cover her breasts and her bottom half, feeling heat rise in her face. “Can we not talk of him, please?” She asked stiffly. “And let us not talk of my breasts either.”

She could practically hear the smirk in Alys’s voice behind her as she started to work a lather into Sena’s hair. Long fingers worked her scalp firmly and Sena could not help the little sound that escaped her. “He’s a sore subject, then? You must be truly angry with him, to be so sensitive to the very mention of him. Either that or… he’s left you a maiden. Is that why you’re so bashful and demure?”

Sena flushed a deeper red, if that was even possible and Alys let out a low laugh. “Or both? Oh, my lady. That is sad,” she said with a malicious humour in her voice.

Sena twisted around to face her, the hot water sloshing against the sides of the metal tub. “Who are you to judge me? It’s not the same for me as it is for you, you know. I carry my family’s name. If I am not a maiden, I am ruined, I bring shame upon my House.”

Alys smirked at her. “Oh yes, things must have been truly difficult for you, Princess. Being raised in a fine castle and doted on by your royal father. Dancing at balls in silk dresses and falling asleep on satin sheets. I’m positively weeping for you.”

“You do not know the first thing about me,” Sena snapped and turned back to face the other way. “I’m not a Princess and my father never doted on me. Quite the opposite, he despises my very existence.” She ground her teeth as Alys resumed washing her hair. “I have spent the last year watching my family slaughter each other in cold blood. Two brothers. My best friend’s son. Countless men-at-arms and smallfolk and we carry on and step over their bodies as if they were nothing, as if they did not have families and hopes and prayers. And there has been nothing I could do to stop any of it - believe me, I tried. I will not pretend I have faced the same trials as you, my lady, but I have faced my own. They have been agony.”

That won her some silence from Alys as the elder woman washed the suds from her hair. The quiet was oppressive and Sena’s words bounced off of the walls around her, echoing in her ears. The heat of the water now felt uncomfortable more than soothing, like the temperature was slowly creeping up and she was being cooked from the inside out. “So… it is true, then?” Alys said, breaking the silence once more to Sena’s distaste. “What Jarrad has been saying about you? You’re the talk of the castle, you know, in the kitchens and the barracks.”

“I do not know what they say,” Sena gritted out. “That’s rather the point of saying it behind my back, is it not?”

“They call you a peacemaker,” Alys said, getting up from her position at the back of the tub and coming around to sit on the side, holding Sena’s eye. Under Alys’s strange, unreadable gaze, it did not even occur to Sena to cover herself. “A conciliator. They’re saying you want an end to the death and destruction as much as any servant or soldier.”

Sena gave her an odd look. It was true, but why did Alys care? “What does that matter to you?”

“Your Prince put my family to the sword,” Alys said. “And whilst I did not care for them, it took away any protection there was for every cook and serving girl and stablehand that has loyally served House Strong. Now, we all serve at the pleasure of the infamously merciful Targaryen Dynasty, whose dragons melted the towers of the very castle we’re standing in. And I’m sure it did not escape you on your journey up here from the capital that there is very little of the Riverlands left to lay claim to. Like I said, people like you never care when you tread on people like me.”

Sena rose from the bath, not caring for the water that sloshed over the side. She stepped out of the water and stood before Alys Rivers, naked as her name day. “It is not a responsibility my kin takes lightly, being sworn to protect and serve the people of this realm. Though we have been doing a piss poor job of it recently, I’ll give you that. I have fought my whole life for peace in my family. Now, I know I do not care who sits on that abominable throne so long as nobody else has to die for it. Not a dragonrider, not a soldier, not a peasant. I want this done, as much as you, and then I want to live out what days remain to me in peace.”

Alys considered her critically, but there was a small smile on her face. “You will not end this war without another drop of blood, Visenya. ‘Tis a beautiful dream, but it is just that, a dream.”

“But if we keep going the way we are, dragon fighting dragon, sister fighting brother, uncle fighting nephew, we will leave nothing but scorched earth and corpses,” Sena bit out. She finally saw this for the opportunity it was. The opportunity to escape this cell and maybe finally put an end to it all.

Alys stood and rounded the bath, passing her a clean sheet to wrap herself in. Sena took it gratefully, a small shiver running up her spine as she covered her skin. “You truly mean it? You wish to end this bloodshed more than you care about black or green, Queen or King? More than you care about your siblings and cousins, even your Prince?”

“I want to end this because I care about them. I do not care for their titles or their power or even whether they can stand the sight of me, so long as they all live. That would be enough,” she breathed, stepping forward to pull one of Alys’s supple hands into hers. “Just… tell me how.”

Alys gripped her hand tightly at that, so tightly it almost hurt, and Sena gave her a confounded look. “Listen carefully, girl, for I will only tell you this once,” she said, and her voice cut as sharp as Valyrian steel. “If you truly want to end this, no more asking others to tell you what to do. Can you honestly say you have done anything in this war besides reel and react? If you wish to lead, if you wish to bring peace, you must act. Show some initiative, girl. Wrestle back some control now or you will be left with no one and nothing to direct you.”

Sena looked down at their joined hands, her scarred and calloused skin in Alys’s smooth, flawless grip. She looked up at the vibrant pendant at Alys’s throat, then met her eyes. 

She nodded. “Okay.”

Alys nodded with her and released her grip on Sena’s hands. “Okay,” she said. “What is your first act?”

Realisation hit Sena with the force of an anvil. She knew exactly what she had to do. “I need to speak to Aemond. Alone.”

-----

It wasn’t until Alys pointed it out to her that Sena realised they actually looked quite alike. Dark hair, large eyes, similar height. All it would take was a simple spell - a glamour, Alys called it - and Sena would be indistinguishable from the true Alys Rivers for a short time. Unless she did something to expose herself to an observer.

That was how, some hours later, Sena found herself able to slip out of her cell, past Jarrad who knew her face and walk the corridors of Harrenhal. She and Alys had swapped clothes  and Alys would stay in her room and pose as her until Sena returned. Unassailed by all who saw her, she followed Alys’s directions down to the kitchens and without even a second glance at her, a cook was pressing a silver tray into her hands and hissing at her to get it to the Prince before it cooled. 

It wasn’t until she was at the door of Aemond’s chambers that she faltered, the tray wobbling dangerously in her hands. It was not a hypothetical anymore. If she could do this, if she could actually talk some sense into him, this could be the beginning of the end. If she could meet his eye, if he had the patience to look at her anymore. She drew a ragged breath. This was like to be one of the most important moments of her life, she realised. The moment where she would be made or unmade. But first, she would need to do her best to glean what information she could from his papers - Alys could only tell her so much. That Prince Daeron was at the head of the Hightower army and Ser Criston Cole was straining to leave Harrenhal and join their forces together. The rest of it she would have to figure out for herself, and decide how she was going to break the pretence and reveal herself.

She held her head high and pushed the door in.

The rooms were cavernous, like the rest of the keep. Aemond had a fire roaring in the hearth, but it did little to assuage the pronounced chill on the air. At the far end was a sitting area with soft cushions that looked untouched, and to one side was an arch that led to a bedchamber. In the centre of the room was his own war table, with maps and markers, a pitcher of wine, pillar candles that dripped wax. Aemond was sat at the table and did not even look up to acknowledge her entrance, so buried was he in a mass of scrolls and letters. He always had been an avid reader, but this was not the sort of reading he enjoyed - his brow was furrowed and he was chewing at his lip. His left hand was rolling something along the length of the table - no, not something, the crown of the Conqueror. Aemond toyed with his brother’s ruby crown as he read, twisting it on its edge, sending crimson glimmers arching over the ceiling, over his face. 

How does it rest on your head? She longed to ask him. But she could not break character, not yet. Although, it suddenly occurred to her that she had not the slightest clue how Alys acted around Prince Aemond. Was she as flirtatious as she was with Sena, as wickedly unknowable and sharp? Was she deferent?

He looked up from his letters and gave her an odd look. “Are you going to stand there all night or am I to eat at some point?”

She shook her head free of her stupor, her blood thundering in her ears. “Of course, my Prince,” she said hurriedly and moved to the table to set the tray down.

He watched her with his sharp eye and for a second, she could have sworn he saw right through her. Then he raised a hand and waved it. “Lay the table, then,” he said coolly, his brow furrowing further. “If you have not completely misplaced your wits.”

That made her jaw tick. “You’d do well to be polite to the person who could spit in your food,” she bit back, and she flushed at the obviousness of her mistake. There was no way, no way Alys would speak to him that way-

But Aemond only smirked. “There you are, Alys,” he said and went back to his papers. Relief swept through her. “Fill my goblet as well.”

Did he say please? Had he always been such a brat? She had never noticed it before now. She did as she was told, grabbing the pitcher to fill up his goblet from the other side of the table with wine of the deepest claret. Then, she took her chance to round the table and shuffle some of his papers out of the way so she could lay his meal. She slowed her hand as she scanned the seals - the flaming Hightower of Oldtown, the three-headed dragon of her own family. A peak and sunburst that made something tick deep in her memory of boring morning lessons in Queen Alicent’s solar. It was a Westerman, she knew that much, but why was a vassal lord writing directly to the Prince Regent instead of the Lannisters?

Oh, that was why, she thought as she scanned the letter quickly, setting it aside as slow as she dared. The Westerman - a Reyne, mayhaps, or a Lefford - had taken control of the Lannister forces after the death of Lord Jason Lannister, and they had been… slain on the shores of the God’s Eye by men calling themselves the Winter Wolves. Good Gods. Aemond caught her looking. “Careful, Alys, anyone would think you were scouring for information to sell to the enemy,” he snipped, and he would have seen the way her face drained of colour if he had not immediately bowed his head to his hand and pinched at the bridge of his nose, as if staving off a headache. “Untold loss of life. The smallfolk are calling it the Fishfeed.” He laughed bitterly and reached for his goblet. “It was the God’s Eye that Lady Visenya’s dragon retreated to, after our victory at Rook’s Rest. At least he will eat well out of our losses.”

Sena did not know what to say. She shuffled aside more papers to make room. “She is well… the Lady Visenya, that is,” she said as evenly as she could manage. “Eating again.”

Aemond nodded stiffly. “Some good news, at least,” he said.

It was enough to raise a lump in her throat. She took his dinner plate and leaned across him to put it before her. She caught him giving her an odd look. “What?” She asked, her pulse thrumming.

He narrowed his eye, then shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “Carry on.”

Her heart was in her throat as she leaned in to put down his fork and knife. His head turned to her once more, confused by something.

The knife was in his hand and back off the table as soon as she’d laid it down. He brought it down so swiftly and sharply she did not even have time to react, and he skewered the sleeve of her dress to the table. A scream jumped from her throat. “My Prince!” She cried.

He was up and had his hand under her jaw, tugging her face sharply to meet his. The melting of the glamour felt like a trickle of cool water. A cruel smirk spread across his lips as brown eyes gave way to violet. Sena swallowed hard.

“Nice try,” he said, almost a little admiring. “But remember for next time, most bastards cannot afford lavender oil for their baths.”

“You could smell me?” She balked.

He raised an eyebrow and schooled his expression. “You love lavender,” he said, as if it was obvious. “Are you going to tell me why you are here before I have you taken back to your rooms? Maybe clapped in chains for good measure."

She met his good eye defiantly. “What did you expect me to do?” She asked, belligerent, pinned to the table and caught in his grasp. “You won’t speak to me, you won’t even come and make sure I’m still alive, you just send some woman-“ 

“Whom I trust to know it is in her best interests to be loyal to me and protect you,” he snapped. He shook his head at her in disbelief, thumb trailing along the underside of her jaw. She tried to jerk out of his grasp. “Although it seems I trusted her a little too much, and once again seem to have underestimated your refusal to stay down when you’re beaten.”

She blustered out a laugh, sounding more confident than she felt. “From what I can tell, Aemond, you’re the one who is losing. Not me,” she picked up the letter telling him his casualties from the God’s Eye and held it up. 

He did not look at it, holding her gaze with frightening intensity, then ripped the knife free of the table. 

She stumbled back. Watched him as he carefully composed himself, an irrepressible undercurrent of rage running just beneath the surface. He sat back down again and fixed his steady glare on the crown on the table. “I have won all my own battles yet I am losing this war,” he admitted. “We lost King’s Landing- I lost King’s Landing. My grandfather is dead and gone. Aegon has vanished. I cannot even speak to my mother. All I have is Cole and we cannot even see eye to eye.”

Something in Sena gave a pang. How she hated seeing him lonely. They were supposed to be there for each other, supposed to stop each other feeling alone in the world. They had promised. Five-and-ten years ago, now, they had made that promise, holding hands in the dark. “You have me,” she breathed and his head whipped around to face her.

“What?”

She drew a steadying breath and leaned on the table next to where he sat, surveying the map. “Tell me what the situation is. Maybe I can help.”

He looked up at her from his seat and his throat bobbed. He dropped his head into his hands and began kneading at his brow. He was so tired there was an uncharacteristic slump in his shoulders. “Why would you help?” He asked bleakly. “It is your family I am trying to destroy.”

She huffed and shook her head. “It is our family, Aemond,” she said sharply. “You - all of you, Aegon, Rhaenyra, my father - are trying to destroy our family. We are one house, the last dragonriders, fire and blood. Do not forget it.” She did not wait for his response before she turned and looked at the map that showed all the realms below the Neck. He had it spread on the table and weighed down with crowned dragons representing his own forces, a cobbled-together mix of Arryn falcons and Velaryon seahorses representing Queen Rhaenyra’s. It made her ache to see it - nobody had ever chiselled two sets of dragon markers. Nobody had anticipated their house turning on itself. “What do we know of what is happening in King’s Landing?”

Aemond let out a long breath. “There is some good news there at least. When all this started, my brother’s council was prudent enough to split the treasury into four and send off three parts for safekeeping. Rhaenyra will be spending the last of what we left to her, by now.”

Sena grimaced at the thought. That would be putting pressure on her indeed. “The smallfolk will be suffering for it. Trade is already disrupted in the Narrow Sea, the Goldroad and the Roseroad cut off, so no trade from the Westerlands or the Reach.”

Aemond nodded. “They’ll be hungry, and what they can get will be taxed viciously by my sister to pay for the war.”

She drew a breath and looked at him. Did her best to steady herself. This was her chance. “This has gone on long enough, Aemond. This family has lost too much. This realm has lost too much.” 

He leaned back in his chair, considering her. “And what do you wish me to do about it, Sena?” He sounded more tired than anything else, shrugging his shoulders. “Crawl on my knees to King’s Landing and beg for forgiveness? Pray your father doesn’t have me strung up by my entrails? It’s not going to work, we’re too far gone to turn back now.” 

She shook her head. “It is never too late,” she said, and his eye flitted to hers.

He managed to give her a wry smile but shook his head. “You have heart, of that there is no doubt, but I will not see her on the throne, Sena. Nor will I see her bastard go after her. She has taken too much - from me, from all of us. My mother has given up her life, her whole life in service of the crown, the people. She gave the King, my father four heirs. Four pregnancies, four births and that is not even considering how she shouldered the running of the realm or the countless times she endured his rutting. And never once has she been thanked or loved or honoured for it. Only disrespected, treated like a brood mare, brushed aside and forgotten.”

Sena frowned, wrapping her arms around herself. “I do not expect you to forget that, Aemond. I do not expect you to forget any of it. I only wish for you to admit this has gone too far. That no throne or crown or title is worth this.”

He suddenly looked as though he was far away from her, in some deep dark place, and he swallowed hard. “Do you know what happened to Maelor?” He asked.

Maelor? A cold fear gripped her. All she knew was what Jarrad had told her - that the King and his heirs had vanished from King’s Landing the night of the Queen’s invasion. She knew not what had befallen Helaena’s infant son. She did not wish to know, if Aemond’s expression was any indication. 

“He was spirited away by a member of the Kingsguard, the night King’s Landing fell, to be taken to Oldtown and my brother. They only got as far as Bitterbridge before the smallfolk caught on, realised they were not who they said they were. They found Maelor’s egg in Ser Rickard’s pack, realised they had a dragon prince on their hands that was worth more than all their pitiful fortunes combined. The fight that broke out, they-“ His words caught in his throat and he cleared it harshly. Sena felt sick. “Some say they tore him limb from limb, Sena. So they might each claim a part of the Black Queen’s price on his head.” 

“Gods,” she said. A wave of nausea rolled through her. He had just been a little baby. This vile, vile war, the fact that their own shortsightedness and vengefulness had done this to them, led them to do this to each other. “Helaena,” she breathed, and Aemond swallowed hard, brushing angrily at the tears on his cheek. “Does she know?”

Aemond shrugged weakly, looking defeated. “I do not know. I fear my half-sister would delight in telling her.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, felt a twinge of pain where it had healed a little crooked. Closed her eyes as she willed the roiling in her stomach, the thudding of her heart to calm. There was a clammy sweat on her skin and she just wanted to cry. “We need to get to her, Aemond. If we can do nothing else, we need to get her back. We need to take care of her.”

“How?” He asked, sounding defeated. “Helaena, my mother, they’re being held in chains. I do not know what to do.” He sounded so small, so beaten down, and it was breaking Sena’s heart.

Sena stood and rounded the table, planting her hands and surveying the map in an attempt to occupy her mind, stop the dark, yawning pit in her heart from consuming her. “We need to force Rhaenyra’s hand,” she said quietly. “We need to make her come to the table, talk peace. Right now, she has King’s Landing, but that is all she has in the South. You still control nearly everything North of the Dornish Marches and South of the Eyrie and the Neck. If we can make her position untenable…“ 

Aemond was watching her with his reddened eye and drew a deep, ragged breath. He pushed himself up from his seat and came to the edge of the table. He picked up a crowned dragon marker from the Westerlands and rolled it in his hands. “You truly believe there is a way for us? We can end this, stop the bloodshed?”

She looked up and met his gaze steadily. How could he simultaneously look so young and so weathered? So terrified and so exhausted? “I will end this war,” she told him, with every shred of certainty she could muster. “We will save this family, save this kingdom or die in the attempt. That is the only acceptable path left to us, Aemond.”

He studied her for a moment, then looked back down to the figure of the dragon wearing a crown in his hand. He nodded once, then reached up with his other hand and snapped the crown off in one clean motion. Sena was taken aback for a moment, then watched him reach for the next marker, doing the same. Then the next, then the next. She took one up from in front of her and bent it with her hands, feeling the wood splintering under her grip.

The dragon markers went back to their previous places, now without their crowns, and Aemond nodded to himself. Convinced he was doing the right thing, at long last. “No more sides,” she said to him. “No more colours, no more division. Just us. One family. One realm.”

“Show me,” he said, watching her with his piercing, clever eye. “Show me how we end this.”

Sena took a deep breath then looked down at the map before her, a sudden surge of something unnameable in her stomach. Courage? Fear? Love? 

Whatever it was, it was time to get to work.

She had been thinking about this for weeks but now was the time to finally put it into motion. “We need to lay siege to King’s Landing. Block every road in and out, cut them off at sea. Choke Rhaenyra until she has no choice but to meet us under a peace banner.”

His eye flitted between the map and her, and he reached across the table to take her hand, pointing out to her the positions of two of his armies. Lightning sparked through her where their skin met, but she did not let it show on her face. “We have the roads, for now. If I direct Ser Criston Cole and my brother Daeron to march and siege the city…” he looked to the sea and grimaced. “There must be a way to broker another deal with the Triarchy, cut off the Velaryon fleet at sea. But we are low on funds, low on anything they would want. It will not be a pleasant negotiation-” 

“No. Not the Triarchy,” Sena said, shaking her head vehemently. “Your alliance with them is at an end. It will be hard enough to get Rhaenyra to treat with us as it is. We cannot sue for peace with a foreign power backing us and being seen to have a say in the outcome. They shot down Jace and Gods only know what has become of Viserys. Your sister will not listen to a word we have to say with them at our backs. We need another fleet.” 

He considered her words and conceded with a nod. “You have a point,” he said. “But that does not solve the problem. What fleet do we block off Blackwater Bay with if not the Triarchy’s? It will take months to sail ships from Oldtown or the Arbor, and I doubt Dorne would take too kindly to seeing a fleet of war galleys in their waters.” 

The question was making Sena’s head ache. What other options did they have besides the Hightowers and Redwynes? But he was right - it would take time they simply did not have to muster a fleet from the Reach that could rival the Velaryons and even then, they would be putting blind faith in the Gods that their southern neighbours would let them pass by unmolested. She scanned the map. Her eyes fell on the eastern coast. “The Arryns.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow at her. “They are sworn to Rhaenyra, Sena. Her lady mother was an Arryn-“

“I know, I advised Jace on brokering the deal,” Sena ground out. How wrong it felt, to be undoing her lost brother’s good work. Some part of her said that Jace would understand, though, if he was still here. “But if there is one thing our ancestors have shown us about the Vale of Arryn, it is that the impregnable Eyrie is vulnerable to dragons.”

Aemond looked a little bewildered. “We cannot just land a dragon on the Eyrie and demand they switch banners, Sena.”

She sighed. “No, we cannot, but my sister is ward to Lady Jeyne Arryn. Rhaena is a good girl, a gentle girl, she has always loved me like I was her true sister. She will hear what I have to say. And if a deal had the support of House Arryn’s most powerful bannermen-“

Aemond shot her a look. “You mean-“

“Yes,” she said with a nod and the certainty she felt in her was as strong as castle-forged steel. This was how they would accomplish this. She ran her hand over the place on the map where Runestone was nestled. “It is high time I raised my claim to what is mine by rights.” When she looked up, Aemond was smirking at her, brimming with pride. Her cheeks coloured and looked back to the map, desperate to move things along. “A city the size of King’s Landing could withhold siege for untold time, Aemond. They need to fall from the inside, too.” 

Aemond nodded and considered her words, trailing his fingers over the soft blue colouring of Blackwater Bay. In real life, it was a far moodier navy-grey. “My mother,” he said finally. “She’s a pious woman, she has friends in the faith that I reckon she would still be able to reach, even in chains, if they are letting her see a Septon. And if anyone could turn the smallfolk into a mob, it would be the Faith. If we can somehow sneak in a message to her…”

“What about Vhagar’s cavern?” She suggested. “It opens onto the cliffs. If we can get a man in that is familiar with the city and the Red Keep, we could reach her that way.”

He nodded vigorously. “Good. Good thinking.”

They both looked down at the map, moving their markers into place, surrounding King’s Landing fully from all sides. A lump was forming in Sena’s throat. The city was already tense, the smallfolk already being taxed to starvation. “This plan would be like throwing a torch in a hayloft,” she said, fear flooding through her.

Aemond considered the map, considered the armies that spilled out in every direction. Every orphan and widow they would make if they did not end this quickly. “What choice do we have?” He asked.

“Their dragons still outnumber yours,” she pointed out. “If this comes to a battle, you are outnumbered, two to one.” 

“Daeron’s Tessarion has grown into a fine beast, and Vhagar is worth half their dragons put together,” he insisted. “And you forget about your own dragon. We have Vermithor now, once we travel to the God’s Eye. I have received reports that Silverwing has been brought to the capital for Princess Rhaenys to claim, but the she-dragon will not fly against Vermithor. They are mated for life.” 

Sena repressed a grimace at the thought of the unruly dragon who had no love for her. She missed Grey Ghost everyday. But she had no choice and he was right, Vermithor would go a long way to evening the score, even if it was just to lay more pressure on Rhaenyra to negotiate.

Then, she thought of a person she had vehemently not been thinking about up until now. “What about my father?” She breathed, cold dread trickling through her. “Rhaenyra can be reasoned with. She loves her sons above all else. But my father… he will be unreasonable to the end.” 

Aemond gritted his teeth at the thought. “Let me deal with your father,” he said, looking for all the world like he longed to reach out across the table and touch her. “We just have to get them to the table, first of all.”

“And then, all we have to do is get the most unreasonable and obstinate family in the known world to agree with each other?” She asked, taking up the dragon marker and running her finger over the broken crown with a humourless laugh.

He reached across the table and grabbed it out of her hand, their skin grazing for the barest of seconds. “Be careful, you’ll give yourself a splinter.”

Sena could not help the laugh that bubbled out of her throat. Aemond looked up at her sharply as if he’d been slapped. “Sorry, I just-“ she shook her head. Laughed some more. “After all that’s happened… Luke, Grey Ghost, Rook’s Rest, you’re concerned about me getting a splinter?” She held his eye steadily.

He looked away from her, his shoulders bunching up around his ears. “If I could take it back-“

Sena shook her head, morose. “That’s not how anything works,” she said and reached for the pitcher of wine on the side of the table, the one Alys said she was working overtime keeping filled for him right now. Right enough, it was half empty. He was struggling and she was making him feel worse right now. 

No, he would not get her sympathy. So much of what had happened, of what was still happening, he could partly blame on his own pride, his inability to mind his temper or bite his tongue. And maybe that was a luxury of his station in life, maybe that was just one of the privileges of being a man, being a prince. But if he wanted to be at her side and help her end this, he had to learn control, learn remorse. She poured herself a generous glass and drank heavily, rolling the full-bodied wine over her tongue and savouring the bitter taste. “Are you going to apologise to me?”

“How do I apologise for something I did not mean to happen?” He asked quietly.

Was he determined to get on her very last nerve right now? “By saying you’re fucking sorry,” she snapped, slamming her goblet down on the table. A spatter of wine coloured the map and he looked up at her, shocked. Had she ever been the one to lose her temper first between them? She could not recall. “Now, Aemond. I will have your apology. My honour demands it. Either that or your head.”

He watched her with a flicker of something dangerous in his remaining eye. “Done playing the good girl, are you?” His voice was controlled - pure, cold control - and it only made the fiery rage inside her burn hotter.

“It wasn’t an act,” she bit out. She took another heavy swig of wine and wiped at her mouth. “It wasn’t an act. I love you. I love all of you. And you’re all ruining me. You’re making me into an angry, vengeful woman.”

The Prince only smirked at her and it stoked her rage. “Let the fire burn, love,” he said, something dark in his voice, a heat in his eye. “Part of me always wanted to drag you down to my level.”

“Say you’re sorry,” she demanded. “Say you’re sorry for shackling me hand and foot. Say you’re sorry for every bruise and broken bone. Say you’re sorry for Grey Ghost, for Luke.”

“Say you’re sorry for Jaehaerys,” he countered coolly, “for Maelor.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Aemond, I put a knife through my father’s neck when I learned about Jaehaerys,” she growled. “Do not play this game with me.”

That revelation made him come alive. His chest swelled, his eye went dark. He smirked. “Of course you did,” he breathed. “You are Visenya. My Sena.”

“Your Sena?” She said and her insides were on fire. What right did he have to claim her when all he had ever done was hurt her, cast her aside and place her dead last in his priorities? “Fucking make me yours, you coward.”

She did not know where the words came from. She did not even have time to draw breath before he was round the table and at her side, taking her hips in his hands and pushing her up onto the polished oak. Her blood roared in her ears and a guttural moan broke free of her throat as he fell upon her lips. Biting, licking, bruising. It was hot and wet and desperate, and his hands tangled into her curls, pulling her head back for him. Her hair strained at the roots. The pain was sweet. The pain was like fire.

Her hands flew up to tangle in his hair but he caught her before she could even lay hands on him. He pulled her arms sharply behind her back, held them there with one hand, and used his other to tug her head back by the hair at a sharp angle. “Say it again,” he hissed. His eye was malevolent. “I’m warning you. You have tested my honour too many times. Say it again and I’ll do it.”

The very air in her lungs was molten. She gasped in a breath, her lungs struggling for room as he bore down on her, her arms screaming in protest behind her back. She could break his hold on her if she really wanted to - he was wiry for a man and she was strong for a woman - but there was a current of heat running through her at the way he bowed her to his will. They were already agreeing to betray both their families, the people who had raised them, making a pact writ blood. Everything they had done in the last months - they were without honour, without virtue. That ship had long set sail. What was one final sin to add to her list? The very sin she had burned for, for years. And instead of hatred and despair, it would be committed with heat and desire. With love. It was only right that this final betrayal should be sealed with the blood of her maidenhead. “I won’t beg,” she bit out, her voice trembling. They were nose to nose, brow to brow. He had a beautiful nose. Strong, large, sharp.

He barked a malevolent laugh. “I’ll make you beg.”

Even with her throat bared, her head pulled back, she met his eye steadily. “Would you just shut up and fuck me?”

He gritted his teeth. His iris was swallowed up by the black of his pupil and she could feel a growing hardness pressed against her belly. “As my lady wishes.”

His hand still held hers tightly behind her back, the callouses where he gripped his sword dragging on her skin exquisitely. His other hand left their grip on the roots of her hair to tangle into the laces at the back of Alys’s dress. It was not as fine a dress as her own back on Dragonstone, though, and the eyelets caught on their laces. Aemond’s expression twisted with annoyance and he wrenched the lacing loose.

Sena felt the sharp tug, heard the ripping and pushed back against him. “Aemond,” she snapped, “this isn’t mine.”

He grinned maliciously and pressed his nose into the hollow under her jaw, pressing against her pulse, kissing against the place where she had struck her father with the letter opener. “Only allowed to rip your dresses, am I?” He asked with dry, dry humour in his voice.

She drew in a ragged breath. “Yes,” she gritted out, burning with shame at how needy she sounded. “Only mine. I’ll cut you open from your throat to your balls if I ever hear of you touching another.”

He grinned against her neck and bit her skin sharply, making her hiss. “Only you, my lady,” he hissed, and yanked her dress down, baring her breasts. He licked his lips and sighed shakily, raising a rough, calloused hand to pinch at one nipple, then the other. Sena whined low in her throat, and he dipped his head to latch on. She watched him suckling at her with desperation, watched him switch to her other breast and tweak at the tender, wet nipple with his teeth and tongue. She threw her head back in a moan.

Bent at an awkward angle, Aemond raised his eye to her and watched her sigh in pleasure at his ministrations. He came off of her breast with a wet pop and brought his spare hand up against one flushed, tender nipple in a hard slap. It stung and Sena moaned. “Aemond,” she hissed. “Fuck, please.”

His smirk was so infuriating it set a fire beneath her skin. He drew closer, pressed them together, her thighs parted for him. Chest to chest. He pulled her hips to the edge of the table and ground himself into her, and Gods, she could feel every last inch of him, straining through his breeches. Her bare, sensitive nipples grazed on the silver fastenings of his doublet and it sent a flood of heat through her. “Such a good lady, so obedient and demure for twenty-one long years, just to turn into a wanton whore at the end of it all. All for me.”

“I’m everything for you,” she breathed, hot against his lips. They were eye to eye, her throat bared to him at the most vulnerable of angles. Her shoulders were aching from the way he strained her arms behind her and his other hand was thrust up the skirts of her dress, shoving aside her undergarments and grazing a callous against the height of her pubic bone. “For you, I’m a lady, a whore, preacher, warrior. Fighting for forgiveness you do not even desire. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. I was made for you, Aemond.”

That sealed the deal.

He let go of his grip on her so he could grapple with the front of his breeches and Sena brought her aching arms up to help him. Laces, laces, why so many fucking laces? There was a growing wet spot on the front of his breeches and it was making her mouth water. At long last, together they parted the fabric covering his manhood, and Sena winced, biting her lip. She took his thick length in hand, thumb grazing the weeping head. “Gods be good,” she breathed, trying to calm the small surge of fear at the sight of it.

Aemond smirked, proud, and watched her hand on his cock with avid interest. When she brushed a spot just under the flushed head, his eyelid flickered. “You do know how to flatter a man, don’t you, sweet girl?” He brushed her hair from her neck as she palmed at his cock, her cheeks burning. “It might hurt a little. Just for your first time.”

She drew a bracing breath. Wondered what it said about her that the idea of the pain was even more thrilling. She withdrew her hand from his cock, savouring the low grunt of protest in his throat. She spat into her palm and brought her hand back to him, grazing her fingers over that spot just as she reached the head. Just to watch his eyelid flutter. “Mightn’t be so sore,” she murmured. He slipped a hand between their bodies and used two fingers to stroke her entrance, spread her wetness. He gave her a pleased smile when he found her practically dripping. “I’ve spent so many nights fucking myself with my fingers, thinking of you, imagining it was you,” she sighed as his fingers caught on the rim of her hole. He groaned, his eye fluttering shut. With her spare, trembling hand, she reached up and unbound his hair, pulling his eyepatch from his beautiful face. The sapphire in his left socket glimmered at her and she brushed along the underside of his eye, the jagged line of his scar. “I want the real thing now, Aemond. Do not hold back,” she breathed.

“Fuck,” he choked. Even when his eyes slipped closed in pleasure, his damaged left eyelid let out a sliver of deep blue. He was bent so close to her that his beautiful hair fell like a curtain around them, and for a second, Sena could believe that the world only went as far as them. The table unrelenting against her arse, her own throbbing cunt, Aemond’s weeping cock. That was as far as it went. That was all there was.

Suddenly, he was in motion, pushing up her skirts, pulling down her undergarments and grabbing at her fleshy thighs. He pulled her forward so she was positioned at the edge of the table, at the head of his manhood. He took her hands in his, positioned them on his shoulders. Then he took hold of his cock and stopped for a second, eyeing her for any sign of hesitancy. “Last chance,” he warned her. “We can stop if that is what you desire.”

She pulled him down to her and kissed him. “Do not stop. Please, Aemond. Please.”

She let out a sharp cry when his cock pierced her core.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, gripping her jaw firmly in his large hands. He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, held her gaze unshakeably, held her body steady. She knew he wasn’t just apologising for the pain of piercing her. Knew he was apologising for all of it, every last bit of pain he had caused her. Knew this was the best he could do. “I’m sorry.”

Every inch of her was alive, hot and white and bursting with agony. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Aemond,” she whimpered. “It’s- it’s too much-“

“You can take it,” he whispered. He was seated in her fully now. She could feel his balls brushing against the lips of her cunt. His own pale hair at the base of his cock against her black, coarse curls. The drag of their skin together burned with sweet friction. “You can, Sena. You can do it. You can do fucking anything, my girl.”

They were trembling together as they looked down at where their bodies joined. He groaned when he saw her skirts were in the way and pulled the ruined dress up over her head, leaving her as bare as the day she entered into the world. Now he could see, could see where he had parted and entered her. Her maiden’s blood mingled with her slick and his precum on the base of his cock. He dragged her hands up to his neck and held her trembling form steady. “Beautiful,” he groaned. “Look at us. I told you we’d be beautiful, didn’t I? As one? You impaled on me- Gods, Sena-“

“I’m ready,” she whined. She grabbed his hands in hers, caught them up, twined their fingers together. With a measured breath, she leaned back a little. The new angle set her on fire. She could feel the swollen head of his cock dragging on some dark and secret place inside of her. “Make me yours.”

His hands left hers so he could swipe away the wooden markers in her way, holding her lower back and easing her down to the table. Her shoulders and arse rested against the polished wood, but her lower back and hips curved upwards and met his in an unholy arc. Unholy, good Gods, if only his mother could see them now- “You were always mine, Sena. I was always yours,” he mumbled and she could see the thinnest of threads his restraint was dangling by.

She was in disbelief that it had taken them so long to realise it, such a simple, unassailable truth. She shifted back onto him, wanting to take every part of him and even the minute movement had pleasure spasming through her lower belly. “Well, seal the deal then, beautiful boy. My Prince."

That was all the encouragement he needed. His hips snapped into hers with a lurch that made every muscle in Sena’s core seize, and there was a deep stabbing sensation in her as the head of his cock seemed to push against the very limit of her insides. He groaned and leaned down onto her, covering every inch of her with himself. One hand found her left nipple, tugging and tweaking. The other found the base of her skull, forcing her up into a savage kiss that had her lips singing and swollen. His hips pumped into hers, setting up a punishing pace. Sena brought her hands up to his scalp, knotted them into his hair and pulled. Her body jolted, her breasts bounced, the table creaked in protest. Every inch of her sung.

“Aemond,” she moaned, legs wrapped like a vice around his waist, her wetness running down her arse and the front of his breeches, urging him deeper and harder. He brought his hands down under her arse and pulled her up to meet him, changing the angle in a way that had sharp cries spilling from her lips. He was watching her moan and cry, a malicious, hungry look in his eye, hips slapping into hers, squeezing and kneading at her arse cheeks. He leaned back from her so he could bring one hand between them and a calloused thumb started rubbing relentlessly at her pleasure. The thickened, scarred skin that wielded swords and commanded dragons was building a wave of pressure in her as easily as he might finger out a note on a lyre. He was playing her like an instrument. 

The snap of his hips was growing more frenzied, more urgent, and it was driving her wild. “Yes, yes,” he moaned, “take it, Sena. Take me."

“Gods-“ she gasped, as the wave built.

“Name them,” he hissed. The relentless force of his hips was pushing her up the table, but he grabbed her by her hip creases and pulled her flush back against him, drawing a low moan from her. He was trembling. They would not last long. His hand flew up to fasten around her throat, choking, burning. It was too much, her every sense was screaming, it was way too much and it felt fucking divine. “Balerion, Vhagar, Meraxes, Syrax… Maiden, Mother, Stranger-“

“You,” she moaned. She gripped the hand that covered her throat, holding it tighter around the airway that fed her very life. “Aemond.” 

Her body threw her into fits of pleasure. 

Spasms, tides, relentless waves.

He moaned, let out a sharp grunt as her cunt tightened around him. He was shaking, his eyelids fluttering, and all of a sudden his hips stilled against hers. “Sena,” he groaned and his balls went tight against her cunt, her arse. His cock pulsed deep inside of her.

She pulled him down on top of her and took every inch, every part of him. Thick, hot liquid coated her insides in ropes of syrup, ropes of nectar. Her throat burned to taste it. Soon, soon, she would taste him, taste his seed. “Fuck-“ she moaned, “Aemond.”

His grip squeezed around her throat as his hips continued to spasm, and she choked. The sounds of her gasping for breath alarmed him and he drew back. His head dipped to her collar bone. He licked at the sweat pooling there. “My lady,” he whispered into the hollow of her throat, his hair falling around him. “Are you okay?”

She gasped in a breath and drew his gaze up to meet hers with a finger under his chin. “I’m better than okay,” she said in a whisper. “I’m in bliss.” 

He moaned against her throat and the vibrations went straight to her swollen, abused pleasure. “My beautiful, beautiful lady-“ his cock was softening inside of her, but she never wished him to leave her. She wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs and held him against her. She could feel the coarse hair coating his thighs and his crotch against the most private parts of her body. The rub and the burn was exquisite.

With a grunt, he leaned back and pulled her up from the table. Wooden markers scattered on the floor, maps torn and creased, his cock still buried to the hilt inside of her. She squeezed her thighs around his slender waist and moaned wantonly as his swollen head dragged inside her. Balancing her on his hips, he carried her through to his bed, and laid her down on the softer surface. She winced at the loss of him, but he kneeled down at the edge of the bed and brushed aside the curls that were stuck to her forehead with sweat. She could feel his seed spilling out of her between her thighs, mourned the fact that she could not hold on to every last drop.

An hour ago, she might have felt horror at the idea of going to Alys or the maester and asking for moon tea. An hour ago, that might have made her so ashamed she could combust. But every last second of Aemond inside her, losing himself in her had been so worth it, she’d let the whole fucking castle watch if he’d just do it again.

Now she knew. Now she knew why married lords and ladies guarded that act with their honour, their lives. Why they had to make it so dirty and wrong and shameful. Because if unmarried maidens knew such pleasure… they would be unstoppable. They would know their true power, know what they could give, know what they could take. Know they could turn lords and princes and kings into desperate, wild animals.

Aemond got up from the side of the bed, his legs shaking a little, she noticed with satisfaction. He grabbed a clean cloth, dunking it in the basin of fresh water and came back to the bed. “Open your legs for me,” he said softly, knuckles of his spare hand brushing the underside of her jaw.

She parted her legs and felt the ache in her hips, the stretch of her hole, and she winced.

“Shhh,” he soothed her and gently wiped at the stickiness between her legs. “You took me so well, sweet girl. Let me take care of you, now.” The washcloth was soft against her intimate skin and he pressed a kiss to her hair. “It won’t hurt so bad the next time, I promise.”

The next time. Her entire body was exhausted but the thought managed to raise a small flush inside her. “What if I liked how it hurt?”

His eye flickered to hers, his gaze catching on where he had gripped her neck. She reached her hand up to feel the ghost of his hand on her. “I lost control,” he said quietly. “I- You spend your whole life wanting something, and when you finally get it- I should have been gentler with you.”

“No,” she hissed, sitting up and pulling him down to sit next to her. “I made you grab me harder. I liked it, Aemond.”

“I should have asked.”

“I will tell you if you do something I do not like, my sweet boy. Do not fear,” she said and pressed a kiss to his brow. He bowed his head against hers and sighed. “And I want to know what you like.”

“I like-“ he stopped, struggling for words, and there was an enchanting blush rising in his cheeks. Was he… embarrassed? “I think I would normally be gentle, tender. It’s a form of worship, isn’t it, really? Honouring something so perfect?” She flushed a deep red at the flattery as he brushed his thumb along the underside of her breast. He looked so genuinely admiring of her body it made her blood sing. “But if I’m frustrated or angry or jealous, I’m going to want to… manhandle you.”

“I’m not fragile,” she said, skimming her thumb over his lower lip. He dipped his head to press a kiss to her palm. “And that was exhilarating. I can see myself enjoying slow and tender, or sitting on top of you and taking my own pleasure. But I loved that. The pain and the pleasure, it was exquisite. You did so well, my sweet boy. You made me feel so good.”

His breath stuttered at that, and his eye was dark. She looked down at the open front of his breeches, the fabric stained with the evidence of their exploits and watched in wonder as his soft cock gave a valiant twitch. She smiled. She would have to remember that for next time, that praising him got such a reaction from him.

He looked down at his own cock and laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back to clean himself with the cloth and then fasten his breeches again. “How come you are naked as your name day and I am still in full court dress?” He grinned, pushing himself up off of the bed and pulling back the sheet from under her so she could get comfy.

“I quite liked that too,” she said with a cheeky smile. “But next time, I want to see all of you.”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. “As you wish, my lady,” he said. “I’ll come to bed soon and we’ll get you moon tea in the morning. I’m just going to stoke the fire and write to Daeron. We’ve got a war to end, after all.”

She gave a shocked little laugh. “Don’t tell me that was what you were thinking about when you were inside me? Writing to your brother?”

His answering grin was beautiful and boyish, his sapphire eye twinkling at her mischievously. “No, sweetheart, I was thinking about how I could die quite happily right now with you on my cock.”

She knew it was only a jest, but her heart seized in her chest and her hand flew out and grabbed him, stopping him from walking away. “Don’t ever leave me,” she breathed. “Don’t ever, ever make me carry on without you.“

“Oh Sena,” he breathed and sat back down beside her. He pulled her close and dipped his head so he could kiss her tender throat. “You are mine,” he murmured, his voice rumbling against her vocal cords. “I am yours.”

“Mine,” she sighed happily, pressing her nose into silver blonde hair. They reeked of sweat and sex, and Aemond gently lowered her to the pillow. “Yours.”

He pressed one last kiss to her lips, then the bed shifted as he rose to go back to his writing desk.

Sena only lasted a few deep breaths before she dipped out of consciousness, so utterly blissed.

taglist (dm/ask/reply to be added): @stargaryen22 @trap-house-homiecide

[exosmutfactory]

Six Phases FINALE Pt 1

Originally posted by sefuns

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓  P(2) (also on AFF)

networks — @supermwritersnet​ @/bbh-net

pairing — Baekhyun x Riley (OC)

word count — 28k+ (Finale part 1 - [19k] & 2 - [9k])

genre  — ceo! baekhyun, playboy! baekhyun, strangers to lovers, hurt & comfort (heaven knows they need that comfort), slow burn! kinda

[ contains: angst, fluff, smut ]

A/N: Buckle up, loves. Here comes a long one. ♡ Let’s go! (^-^)

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⏰🌹Six Phases Tag List: 🌹⏰

@to-all-the-stories-i-love @insta1010 @sorrowinblood @bellamendoza @bbhflrt @weirdoome​

I was unable to tag one of you so I’ll DM you from @candyfizzbyun 💗💗💗

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July is upon us before we know it, bringing forth more of the summer's blazing sunlight and smothering heat. Jenny's birthday is right around the corner, merely 3 days into the hottest month of the year. There's no wonder why she's throwing a party in a venue that has both a beautiful indoors and outdoors setting. The breezy summer-style dress code for the event is a given—and I plan to crash it with my wintry flare.

It's July 3rd, 90 degrees, and I'm strutting down the stone path leading up to the venue in a two piece velvet outfit. The wine color compliments my skin, hugging my body in all the right places. Between the bra-shaped, crop top that ties in the back and my waist-high pants with high slits to reveal my nude colored heels underneath, I feel like the baddest and sexiest woman up in this bitch.

"Riley!" Jenny beams the moment I step through the door, looking stunning in her light blue dress. It's a plain form-fitting dress, but nothing is simple about her wearing it. The light blue material goes well with the ocean hue of her eyes. The sleeveless, spaghetti-strapped fabric that wraps around her beautifully is the shortest dress I've ever seen on her—and Jongdae should feel like the luckiest man alive to see her like this all the time.

Her makeup is done perfectly, highlighting the softness of her round face and sharpening the gaze in her oval eyes. She nearly runs someone over when she comes barreling my way in her black heels with a drink in her hand.

I laugh at her excitement, accepting her hug without hesitation. "Hey, Jen."

"Hey," She smiles, pulling back a little to look at me. "You're early."

A little grin forms on my face; if only she knew. "I didn't want to risk any traffic jams," I explain, smiling more. She's practically buzzing with happiness.

"Ah," She nods, pursing her lips. "Maybe I should have chose a different time-"

"Hey," I place my hand on her shoulder, giving her a look. "Relax. Everything will be fine."

She sighs but nods, her owl-shaped, dangling-earrings sparkling prettily under the warm lights. "I hope no one else gets stuck."

"They won't," I shake my head, adding cheekily, "Especially Chanyeol, he drives like a madman."

"That big oaf," She mutters, a smile back on her face. Her blue eyes meet mine before she takes my hands between hers. "Come, I want to introduce you to someone."

"Oh?" I inquire, raising a brow as she leads me further into the venue. "This isn't one of those matchmaking situations is it?"

"No. Fuck men." She immediately rebukes, fire burning in her eyes. "I'm not dealing with anyone's bullshit. Not on my day."

"Damn straight," I mumble, amused at the disgruntled expression on her face. Jenny and Jongdae are back together—if you can call their last fight a breakup. Witnessing him show up on their doorstep with her favorite chocolate and a new plant to add to their home was a sight to see. He must have done something else for her to react this way though. I can't help but chuckle. Half a year later and he is still tiptoeing around her. That Haneul must be someone significant. My lips downturn at the thought.

"Eunjung! Eunjung!" Jenny's loud voice brings me back to the present. "Ugh, where is that woman?" She grumbles, searching the extravagant room. More partygoers are starting to stream in, filling up the building with every shade of the rainbow and then some. My eyes drift over to the fruit buffet on the long tables in the back when Jenny's eyes widen. "There she is!" She smiles, leading me over to the mini bar on the other side of the room.

I follow her line of sight, my heart dropping in the blink of an eye. It's the same woman I've been seeing around Baekhyun since May. Her once long black hair is now a short brown mohawk, the curly ends perfectly framing her oval shaped face.

"Eunjung, this is Riley." Jenny smiles, gesturing to me. "The wild child I've told you about," She jokes.

"Hello," Eunjung greets in a low voice, smiling warmly. She holds out her hand to me. "I've heard so much about you."

I can only shake her hand and smile back, glaring at Jenny out of the corner of my eye when Eunjung is distracted by the bartender bringing her a drink. "Nice to meet you."

Jenny takes a seat while I survey the room, making sure there aren't any heads of silver hair around. Jongin won't be coming tonight, he's busy preparing dance classes for the elementary students that he'll teach for the upcoming school year, so I keep my head on a swivel. As much as I consider Jenny one of my best friends, her ties with a certain someone cannot be ignored after what happened the last time we went to a party. 

"How's Miss Eunae?" Jenny's question catches my attention, pulling me back into their conversation.

"She won second place in a dance competition last month." 

"Really?!" Jenny gasps and I stiffen.

"Yeah, I couldn't make it." Eunjung smiles sadly, swirling the melting ice in her drink. "Thankfully her girlfriend could. And Baekhyun too."

"Wait," I interrupt, feeling wary when both their eyes focus on me. "You have a twin?"

"Yes. About my height, long black hair." Eunjung sets down her empty glass on the counter. "You might have seen her around before, that woman can't sit still to save her life."

"She has a girlfriend?"

Eunjung and Jenny share a brief, knowing glance before turning back to me. "Yes." Eunjung smiles.

I clear my throat, avoiding their dancing eyes. "Good for her."

"They've been together since high school." Jenny nudges me, a shit eating grin on her face.

"I'll be surprised if they marry before you and Jongdae though," Eunjung raises her hand to get the bartender's attention again. "Chaeyoung is always working overseas."

My chest vibrates. I pull my phone out of my secret breast pocket, tuning out the rest of their conversation.

*

Sat, 07/03 - 7:30pm

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Y'all ready?

//

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Ready as I'll ever be!

//

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Kyungsoo?

//

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

You owe me for this shit

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

I promise to help you bake in his place

\\

…

\\

As long as Dae and Yeol pick up the groceries :')

\\

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Chanyeol delivers and Jongdae unpacks

//

I don't trust his clumsy ass anywhere near my produce

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

\\

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

😂

//

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Hey!

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Ready guys?

\\

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Yes

//

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Yeah

//

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Mmhm >:(

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Let's go 🤫🎂🚚💨✨🥰

\\

*

I can't help but chuckle, pocketing my phone. When I look up, Jenny is the only one sitting at the counter. "Hey," I frown, noticing the sad look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," She mumbles.

"Come on," I rest my hand on her arm, trying to catch her eye. "I can't let the birthday girl mope. You can tell me."

A smile quirks at her lips. "I just…" She sighs, turning to me. "I can't believe Jongdae is busy with work today."

"Awe," mimicking her poked out bottom lip, I nudge her softly. "Well, I guess you're just stuck with me—Deal with it."

"Riley!"

I burst out into laughter, back hugging her when she playfully pushes me away. "Hey, don't lose hope, yeah? He might surprise you."

"No he won't," She mumbles, full on pouting now. "He never surprises me."

"Well," Making eye contact with a certain mischievous brunette on the other side of the room, I tap her shoulder. "Maybe that will change today."

Jenny turns her head and gasps, leaping off of her bar stool. "Chanyeol? Kyungsoo? Jongdae?!?!?!?!"

Everyone in the room watches on with smiles on their faces, but Jongdae's is the brightest of all. "Hey, babe," He beams, opening his arms.

Jenny sprints over to him, colliding so hard with his body that she almost sends them both to the floor. But Jongdae takes it all in stride, holding her close while bellowing that signature laugh of his.

Smiling at them, I quickly walk over to help Kyungsoo and Chanyeol roll in the food cart. "Hey guys, everything okay?"

"We made it all in one piece," Kyungsoo mutters, glancing at the tall dome plate cover. "The cake too."

"Three different chocolates?"

"Mmhm."

"Perfectly symmetrical?"

"Yep," Yeol chimes in.

I grin, "She's going to love it."

"She's going to love you, you mean." Chanyeol sets his shining eyes on me. "How did you even know all this?"

I give him a small, secretive smile, "I have my resources." His grin only widens. "Did the gifts come in today?"

Kyungsoo nods, "Right on time."

"The delivery man showed up just as we were packing the cake into the back of the truck," Chanyeol chuckles, nearly tripping over the edge of a carpet. Kyungsoo and I look at him with our respective wide and narrowed eyes.

"Huh," I purse my lips, nodding in approval. "Now that is some high class two-day shipping." They both hum in agreement, Kyungsoo straightening out the table cloth before they begin to set the cake onto the round table.

"You guys good?" I look between them when they succeed in placing it down. Thank god for that; if that cake falls to the floor that's all our necks.

Kyungsoo nods, "Go on." He gives me a look that's hard to identify. "He's coming too."

"Oh," My heart leaps at the thought. Oh. Shit. He's coming. I should have expected as much, but to actually hear it makes it ten times more real... Shit. "I-Imma just…" I point behind me to the backdoor, slowly walking backward. "You know."

They nod, Chanyeol's eyes holding a hint of sadness. "It's okay. We got everything covered."

"Thank you," I breathe, smiling apologetically. Spinning on my heel, I hurry as fast as my high heels allow to the door. With one last glance back to make sure Jenny is okay, I slip out into the summer night.

Music from within the venue spreads out into the backyard, but it's much quieter out here. I survey the area, making sure no one else is around. Not that I am against anyone being outside, I've just had enough social interaction for one evening… and the night has barely begun.

Sighing to myself, I walk further out onto the patio, my lips quirking up at the light blue cushions on the chairs. Jenny planned this event to the Tee, huh? I chuckle, sighing softly.

The deck is a nice light gray shade, contrasting against the black base of the table and lounge chairs. Running my eyes over them, I hum, choosing to lean against the table instead.

Pain buds in my chest when my thoughts wander. I shouldn't care—I really shouldn't but… Even after everything. Even after all this time, it hurts to think of him with anyone else. The thought of him holding someone in his arms, in his home, in his heart… It crushes me to the core. It eats me up on the inside. It keeps me up at night.

I shouldn't care, yet every time I hear his name, every time I see his face... I go back to that January night, and I regret it every single time.

No matter how hard I try, my head is constantly full of 'what ifs.' What if I stayed? What if he was willing to change? What would we be right now if I hadn't walked away? 

I love—I loved Baekhyun with all my heart…

Can I really move on from this? Will I ever wake up one day and not imagine his sleeping face next to mine?

He could still have someone already for all I know, but for tonight… I rather tell myself that he is alone.

Leaning my elbows on the patio table, I watch the sunset, admiring the pink and orange hues streaking across the blue sky.

"You're staring."

"I love admiring art."

"So I'm an object now?"

The unmistakable love in his sparkly brown eyes… "You are the source," He pauses, holding my heart in his warm smile, "Of my love and affection."

My heart squeezes in earnest. God… why does this hurt so much? Why do his words linger in my mind and actions take hold of my heart? When will it end? When will it fucking end—

"Miss?" A low, raspy voice startles me.

I spin around, staring at the culprit with narrowed eyes. They widen as I take in the man in front of me.

The first thing I notice is his sharp jawline, leading up to his thin lips that curl up at the ends, reminding me a little of Jongdae. My eyes trail up further, taking in his tall nose with a rounded tip, his prominent cheekbones and narrow eyebrows. His slicked back, brown hair shows his broad forehead, and then—

His eyes…

They are the darkest shade of brown that I've ever seen, their almond shape perfectly suiting the rest of his face. They appear black in the dim light of the setting sun. Looking into them has me feeling many things, wondering what story those dark pools of molten hot coffee hold. 

"Are you alright?" He asks, his low voice in a husky tone that I'm slowly getting used to hearing… until I feel the drop that lands on my cheek.

"Oh—yeah!" I inwardly curse, hastily rubbing the tear from my cheek. "I-It's just, you know... allergies."

He nods and I cringe on the inside because I know he can tell that I'm completely bullshitting him right now. "What are you doing out here?" He inquires, tilting his head. His tone of voice isn't judging or hostile, it's more… caring. And sweet. I wish I could read his eyes though...

"Needed a breather," I shrug, repositioning myself in a more attractive manner. I am not about to let some stranger see me hanging out back here like a socially awkward potato on top of everything else—I refuse. "You?"

"Business call," He murmurs distractedly, repocketing his vibrating phone.

"Oh," I inwardly roll my eyes. Right. As if I don't have enough business men in my life.

"The Tech team found a corrupted file," He sighs, checking his expensive gold watch. "They don't know how bad it is yet… The film might have to be delayed."

Film? I perk up at that. "You help film movies?"

He smiles, glancing up at me, a lock of hair falling over his eye. "I'm the director."

A very casual one at that; I note, taking in his outfit. He's decked out in a light blue denim jacket and a white t-shirt, but I know those aren't cheap. Nope, I've seen enough of Baekhyun's cotton shirts to—

"What's the theme?" I blurt out, curling my hand into a fist as I lean further back on the table. "Classified information?" I raise a brow, smirking at his speechless face.

"Aish…" He closes his mouth, smiling a little. "Something like that."

"Eh," I shrug, smiling softly. "I can respect that."

The temperature suddenly starts to drop. A chilly wind blows, ruffling the ends of his hair. The scent of something I haven't encountered before reaches my nose. Bourbon and vanilla; citrus and peach... It's hard to describe, but it creates an aroma that catches my attention.

"What's your name?" I tilt my head, my eyes widening at the sparkle that reflects in his dark eyes from the last rays of the setting sun.

His eyes widen before he points to himself. "Me?"

"Who else, silly?" I laugh, holding back a snort, a smile tugging at my lips at the sheepish look on his face. He's pretty cute, I'll give him that.

He clears his throat, looking away. "Jackson."

I fight back my smile seeing how flustered he is. "I'm Riley." A thought occurs to me for a moment… What is a business man—director doing here? This is an invitation-only event, and I helped Jenny painstakingly arrange the guest list... "How do you know Jenny?"

"Hmm?" Jackson blinks, flickering his eyes back to mine. "Oh!" He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's an old friend."

"Oh," My eyes narrow in the last rays of sunlight.

"We kept in contact after her and Yugyeom split," He explains, and the apologetic expression on his face has my eyes widening again. Did he just see through me? Uh—Wait.

"Oh my god, Yugyeom?—Kim Yugyeom?"

"Yes…" He trails off, looking me over carefully. "Do you know him?"

Do I know him? My reddening cheeks are enough of an explanation. "Not really," I laugh awkwardly, standing up fully. Alright, I've had enough human interaction for today. Between him, the discovery of Eunjung's twin not seeing Baekhyun, meeting someone who is friends with that tall guy I was drooling over months ago, and having to keep Jenny's birthday surprise a secret all week, I'm drained. Time to go—

A crack of thunder echoes across the sky, and then the bottom drops, rain drenching us in seconds.

Well shit… Did none of us check the weather for today? I rack my brain for answers, trying to remember—oh... Oh. Jenny… likes… thunderstorms…

The rain continues to pour, soaking my velvet outfit and flattening my hair without remorse. It won't melt me, but the venue is a city away from Seoul and if I don't hurry home now...

"Well!" I turn away to hide the bitter smile on my face, pushing off of the slippery table. "Time for me to go. Nice meeting you, Jackson."

"Wait-"

I puff up my cheeks, blowing the air out as my hair sticks messily to my forehead. Fighting the urge to brush it back is difficult, but if there's one thing I know about my hair when it's wet, it's the agony that comes with ruffling it up. I rather not cry while detangling it when it's air dried later—

A yank on my arm makes me yelp, my head slamming into something hard when thunder cracks across the sky again, followed by the horrifying crackle of lightning. My head snaps up, eyes squinting against the onslaught of rain. I can barely make out Jackson's face, his features twisted in concern with his hair mattered to his forehead like a mop. The sheer amount of fear in his wide eyes has me more than confused. I take a look around, my heart stopping right in its tracks.

The doorknob of the back door sizzles, steam floating from it in a cloud of smoke. The crack from a lightning bolt visible as the rain washes the spark away.

My face pales when I look back up at the man in front of me.

Jackson steps back, steading me with his hands on my arms when my knees buckle. "Sorry," He clears his throat. "I tried to warn you but-"

"Thank you," I mumble, moving away when I find my balance again. "That could have been…" My head spins at the thought, "Bad."

He nods with a concerned frown, worry written all over his handsome features.

"...Well!" I clear my throat, giving him a small smile. "Thanks again for saving me, stranger." I joke, my eyes shooting down when I feel something rough shielding my shoulders from the rain. "Oh-" They snap back up to meet his, "You don't have to-"

"Keep it." He shakes his head, placing his denim jacket fully on my shoulders. "You're shivering."

"I…" My face is so hot the rain does nothing to cool me down. "Thank you."

Jackson smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No problem." He starts walking backwards, glancing up at the sky before propping open the back door with his leather boot.

"Wait!" I blurt, blushing all the way up to my ears when he looks back at me, having to raise my voice over the unmerciful wind. "H-How will I return it without your number?"

A shy yet boyish grin forms on his face. "Not here."

"Huh?" I blink.

Jackson smiles even more, holding the door open before giving a little bow and outstretching his hand to me. "Ladies first."

A dozen thoughts race through my head while looking at his waiting hand, the action so familiar my heart tugs painfully in my chest. Smiling my prettiest smile, I place my palm in his.

•••

I forgot how refreshing it is to talk to someone new. Stepping out of my comfort zone to get to know a person outside of my friend group—an attractive person at that.

Texting Jackson is a treat. He's a man of high intellect, giving me great advice with years of director experience under his belt. The most shocking thing is that he is only 24—24! Two years older than me. He breaks my dating rule of pursuing anyone less than 4 years older than me, but his maturity makes up for it. Age doesn't define maturity as I have come to realize after a certain someone.

He's super sweet too. We haven't been able to see each other in person since Jenny's party last month, but a day hasn't gone by where we haven't texted. And boy does he text—the most flustering things that is. Jackson has a way with words that makes my heart squeeze in giddiness and me hide behind my hand while peeking at my screen.

He laughs at all of my jokes; he sends good morning and goodnight texts without fail. If nothing else, he is a great conversationalist who would make an even better companion, and I can't wait to see him again. I have a denim jacket hanging up in my closet to return, after all.

A knock on my office door brings me back to the present. I blink a few times, carefully reading over the email I've been working on for the past 20 minutes. "Come in," I permit, glancing at the time. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door when it opens stops my typing in its tracks.

Ms. Kim Eun, the newly appointed book editor, steps into the room, setting off my internal warning signals. Her outfit matches the company dress code, that isn't the problem here. No, it's the sheer amount of dread, sorrow, and fear coming off of her shuffling body in waves. "You asked to see me, Ma'am?" She inquires in the most broken of tones. A fragility I know very well.

"Yes." Saving my progress on the computer, I beckon her over with a reassuring smile. "Please, have a seat."

She slowly walks further into the room, sitting down in one of the leather chairs.

"Ms. Kim," I start as tentatively and professionally as possible, lacing my fingers together on top of my desk. "It has come to my attention that you have been behind on editing the book."

"Oh..." She mumbles, fidgeting with the purse in her lap. "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"I understand you might have other obligations and factors outside of work," I continue, reading her steadily panicking face like a book, "But we don't have a lot of time to get this novel done. We're on a tight schedule here."

"C-Can…" Her eyes lift from the purse in her hands, still holding onto it for dear life. "Can you do it for me?" She whispers.

I let out a short laugh. "No." Her eyes shake as my face hardens. "You were appointed as editor 3 weeks ago, correct?"

She nods, fear glimmering in her wide eyes.

"Your job is to edit the book," I remind her, my lips pressed into a thin line. "That's what you get paid for, that's your responsibility."

"But-"

"If I could do it myself, I wouldn't need to hire you." Her bottom lip starts to tremble; she's about to break. "If you can't do the job, I'm going to need you to put in your 2 weeks," I slide the slip of paper across the desk, "In early. Unless you can get half of the book done by Friday."

"T-That's only 3 days," She gasps, her voice wavering. "I can't-"

"You've had nearly a month in advance to work on it as an Intern." My voice lowers, "I'm sure you have plenty of time to catch up in-"

"I can't!" She wails loudly, hiding her face in her hands. "I-I'm not qualified for this position. I'm just a high school graduate with inside connections." She sobs, the dam of her built up emotions spilling over. "I didn't even finish English 12 with an A."

My clenched jaw ticks. I know she isn't faking it; she's been off for the past two weeks. It's her lack of sharing this important information that is getting to me. If she isn't qualified to take over the editing position, why the hell is she—my eyes widen and then narrow. Mrs. Park.

Looking at Eun, I finally understand. Her bowed head, slouched shoulders, and quiet hiccups dawning on me as clear as day.

"My boyfriend c-cheated on me with my best friend." She croaks sorrowfully. "He said that I deserved it, t-that I made him do it from working late all the time." She runs a hand through her hair, laughing brokenly, her tears leaving a trail of inky black mascara in their wake. "My editing isn't good anyway."

Reaching across the desk, I offer her my box of tissues. "I know how you feel," I mutter, keeping my voice even. "You feel lost, broken and tossed aside as if a part of you is gone." She nods, sniffling while smearing the makeup under her eye. "You ask yourself how you will ever move on from it." Leaving the box on the edge of the desk, I meet her eyes again. "But you will move on." The conversation I had with Jongin in the studio that day comes to mind, quirking a small smile on my lips. "You will wake up one day and not think of them. As long as you want to. You shouldn't stay stuck on someone who has hurt you." 

Tucking the resignation document into a drawer, I turn my sleeping computer back on. "You are worth more than how they've treated you, but you have to decide that for yourself."

"O-Okay," Eun sniffles, wiping her face. A couple tissues fall out of her hand, but her tears have stopped.

"Good." I lean back into my rollable leather chair with a stretch, smiling softly. "Let's settle this. Make me a list of your strengths and weaknesses."

Her wide eyes snap back up to mine. "I-"

"Now."

"Damn, Kyungsoo, how many of these cakes do you need in a day?" I sigh, my hands cramping up. We've been at it for hours, baking desserts at his restaurant because today is a national holiday. Funny how he let all his workers take the day off and here I am handling enough flour to make me sneeze in Jongdae's place.

Kyungsoo doesn't even look up at me, continuing to knead the dough in his hands. "I'd give an estimate but I don't want to overwhelm you."

I'd dramatically flop down into a chair if I wasn't molding a ball of my own dough, so I just groan instead. "You're killing me over here."

"Who offered to help me bake in Jongdae's place?" He raises a brow, shaping the churro in his hands with precession.

"It was all for the good of Jenny's last minute birthday cake!" I whine, starting to place a hand over my heart until I remember the torment I went through last time I got cake batter on this floral shirt. "Have you no heart?" I pout, giving him puppy eyes.

Kyungsoo slowly raises his head and I quickly get back to shaping the fancy doughnut in my hands without a word.

"So," I clear my throat, smiling sheepishly. "Did Dae and Yeol deliver everything okay?"

"They were late." Kyungsoo neatly arranges his perfectly shaped churros onto a tray, sliding them into the preheated oven. "Any later and the milk would have gone bad."

"Yikes," I wince, reaching to rub the back of my head only to pause mid-way, stopped by the wet flour sticking to my hand. "I should have helped more."

"Chanyeol would have slowed down to not give you motion sickness and then the cheese would have gone bad too." He points out.

"You sound a bit grumpy today," I note softly, glancing over at him again. "Did Chanyeol do something?" Kyungsoo starts another row of churros, staring blankly at me as he almost crushes the long sticks in his hands. "Okay, okay! I'll drop it, no need for the third degree. Spare the churro's life, please..."

"I'm going to ban him from my restaurant, I swear." He grumbles under his breath.

"At least he offered to help," I mumble, setting the last doughnut onto the non-stick pan. "How many more you got for me?" I ask, dusting off my hands.

Kyungsoo comes over to take the tray off of the counter. "None."

I raise a brow. "That's it?"

"No," He slides it in with the baking churros. "I'm sending you home."

I frown, "Why?"

"You're loud, chatty and keep dripping flour all over my floor." He deadpans. "And you're falling asleep."

Gawking at him for a few moments all I can do is huff. "I am not-"

"You're gonna get cake batter in your hair."

I flinch, putting my hand down at once. "Are you really kicking me out right now?" I mumble, blowing annoying strands of hair out of my eyes. 

"You're fired." He wipes his clean hands with a towel and walks back over to turn on the sink for me. "Now go home and sleep."

"I don't even work here!"

He gives me a look.

"Alright, alright," I mutter, scrubbing flour from under my nails. "Fine. I'll be out of your hair-"

The chime on the door of the restaurant rings, capturing my attention. I crane my neck around to see who the hell is coming in here when there's obviously a "CLOSED" sign out front and it's freaking 9pm. My face pales at the black baseball cap and leather jacket figure stumbling through the door. I tug on the sleeve of the busy man next to me. Um, Kyungsoo-

They pull their hat off before they reach the middle of the restaurant, revealing a familiar flushed face and unmistakable silver hair.

Oh fuck no.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Kyungsoo," He mumbles, his head down while approaching the counter. "I got held up at the office and the traffic was-" His head snaps up just as I contemplate ducking out of view. "R-Riley…?" He whispers, his face paling. He looks like he's seen a ghost and I can't imagine I'm doing any better.

"You're late." Kyungsoo deadpans, busying himself with washing the used baking trays and utensils in the sink.

"I…" Baekhyun steps closer and I feel like I'm going to throw up. My heart isn't in my throat at this point, it's somewhere lost between my nose and my gag reflex.

"Have you been drinking?" Kyungsoo finally looks up from the spatula in his hands, his eyes narrowing at the lack of response.

Baekhyun's red face glows brighter under the harsh kitchen lights. He purses his lips, "No-"

"Where's your car?" Kyungsoo demands. "I'm not letting you drive."

"Kyungsoo, I'm fine," He rolls back on the heels of his feet, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "You have an important client coming in tomorrow-"

"I don't care who the hell is coming tomorrow." Kyungsoo cuts him off, full-on glaring at him now. His normally calm voice growing deeper with anger by the second. "I'm not letting you drive-"

"I'll take him home," I mumble, shrinking in on myself when both their eyes snap over to me.

Kyungsoo frowns, "Riley-"

"I'm taking him home, Kyungsoo." I cross my arms, shaking my head at the disapproving expression on his stern face. "You have a huge event tomorrow, you sent your staff home, and your kitchen is covered in cake batter," I list off of my fingers, daring him to say another word. "His apartment is on the whole other side of town. I think we both know what's the best course of action here."

Kyungsoo stands there silently for a long moment, but I don't back down, merely arching a brow. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" He softens, not even acknowledging the other man in the room.

"Yeah." I smile, uncrossing my arms. "I know I'm a disaster with a knife but I know how to drive, Kyungsoo. You got to give me some credit here."

"Alright," He chuckles, smiling a little before shifting his eyes back to the man on the other side of the counter. "Don't cause her any trouble, you hear me?"

Baekhyun's dazed eyes widen, "I-"

"If you mess with a single hair on her head," Kyungsoo continues, lifting the butcher knife in his hands. "Say goodbye to your kids."

"I-I won't fucking!" Baekhyun tangles a hand in his messy hair, sucking in a deep breath. "I'm walking home."

"Oh no you aren't," I rebuke, rounding the counter.

He grits his teeth, spinning around on his heel, "I'm-"

"Yah, Baekhyun." Kyungsoo's deep voice cuts through the air.

Baekhyun freezes up, looking over his shoulder with wide eyes. "Y-Yes?-"

"Take this." Kyungsoo starts, slamming a couple bags full of food to his chest. "Shut the fuck up and let Riley take you home."

"I-" Baekhyun shakes his head, "I can still catch the bus. There's no need-" His face drains of color when he meets Kyungsoo's eyes again. If looks could kill, he'd be 6 feet under.

Kyungsoo turns back to me then, "If he gives you a hard time, call me, okay?"

"Yes, Kyungsoo," I immediately agree, fearful of his sour mood as well. Note to self: angry Kyungsoo is scarier than angry Jongin.

"Good," He grumbles but smiles, patting my arm before walking back to the kitchen. "I'll save some of the churros for you."

"Thank you!" I beam at him, waving until he walks into the backroom. My smile doesn't fade, my cheeks starting to hurt until I feel a certain someone's stare on the back of my head. Oh shit.

Slowly turning around, I drag my eyes up to look into the most beautiful puppy eyes in the world, my heart going into overdrive.

"Hey," Baekhyun whispers.

A sad smile quirks on my lips, "Hi." Sighing a little, I take a look around, hanging up my apron and retrieving my hidden purse from the back of a chair at one of the extravagant dining tables. "Let's go."

Baekhyun nods, following me out of the restaurant. I open the door and hold it for him until he reaches the doorstep. We may not be on good terms, but that doesn't mean I'll just let a door slam in his face.

…

I most definitely should have let that door slam in his face.

Shaking off my aggressive thoughts, I take a deep breath and power walk to my car, shivering in the cold wind. It's the middle of July and a tropical storm has blown in, bringing its cold rains and chilling nights with it. Trust Seoul to have these extreme temperature changes, I should have kept my ass back in the South.

Baekhyun doesn't say a word as we make it to my red Porsche. I unlock the car when we are a few feet away, rolling my keys around my fingers. "Hop in, Byun."

He climbs into the passenger seat and by now the silence is killing me, but I shove it down. I'm here to drive him home and that's it. No more, no less.

Sighing inwardly, I settle into the driver's seat. "Buckle up," I mutter, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. "You may be more likely to survive a car crash in your drunken stupor but I sure as hell am not getting a fine for your ass."

I swear I hear him mutter, "of course," under his breath.

"What was that?" I pointedly widen my eyes, looking directly at him.

"Nothing." He grumbles, keeping his eyes facing forward.

"I thought so," Making sure he's strapped securely and checking my rearview mirror, I stick the key into the ignition and pull out of the parking lot.

Driving to Baekhyun's apartment feels so surreal, for many reasons. Never in our relation—our previous relationship have I driven him anywhere. I never dared to get behind the wheel of his Audi, that car is too expensive. If I had wrecked it and looked at the cost to fix or replace it, combined with the look of pure rage that would be on his face from me crashing his baby, I would die. Bad blood or not, I rather not be on Baekhyun's bad side.

My heartbeat picks up the longer the car ride goes on. Fuck, it's getting harder to breathe. I literally have the biggest problem to ever walk into my life right next to me months after I swore to never speak to him again. Why did I agree to this? What was I thinking? 

No. No time for that, I'm going to drop him off at his apartment and continue moving on with my life. That's why I left him in the first place.

"...Riley?" He speaks up a few streets away from his house, his voice the softest I've heard in a while.

Nope. Don't engage. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

"Can… Can we talk?" He continues, sounding sadder by the minute. "Please?"

"We're ten minutes away, Baekhyun."

"I…" The bags rustle in his lap as he sighs. "I knew this would happen."

"What?" I glance sharply at him at the next red light.

Baekhyun looks down at his hands with the most pitiful expression on his face, tears building in the corners of his eyes under the bright city lights. "I knew you would hate me."

Oh my fucking—My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I want to roll my eyes and launch myself out of the car window at the same time. "Stop bringing it up, Byun." I mutter, focusing back on the road. "It's a thing of the past. Let it die there."

"Yeah," He laughs, his voice raw with emotion. "Like my heart the night you left me."

I clench my jaw, taking a deep breath, inwardly cursing the hectic late night traffic. Come on, fuckers, I need this man out of my car asap.

"You don't even want to talk to me about it." He continues, growing more frustrated and louder by the minute. "You don't even want to see me-"

"Of course I don't, Baekhyun!" I snap, whipping my head around to face him. "After all the shit you've done I have every right to not speak to your smug fucking face again."

"Smug?" He laughs weakly. "You think I enjoyed what happened to us?"

"Yep," I chirp, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn pale. "There's no other explanation for why you are in my car right now."

"You insisted for me to be here." He fires right back. "You break up with me, hang out with all my friends, then act like a cold hearted bitch every time you see me."

"It takes one to know one, Baekhyun." I jab right back, curling my upper lip in a cruel smile.

"Yeah," He scoffs, crossing his arms and facing the window. "I'm sure you know that very well."

"If you're going to be a whiny little bitch," I start, smiling widely at him, "I will put you out on your ass, Baekhyun."

"Wouldn't you love that," He laughs, anger coming off of him in waves. "You were always obsessed with my ass."

That's it.

Baekhyun yelps when I slam on the breaks, bracing his hands on the dashboard. "Riley, what the hell?!"

"You wanted to talk?" I make sure the curb of the street I pulled onto is clear before facing him with a grin. "Huh? You want to talk now?" Baekhyun shrinks further into the passenger seat when I lean over him. "Fucking say it to my face then, you bastard." I snarl. "Go on. Give your little practiced speech."

Baekhyun parts his lips a few times, making my rage raise even more—"I miss you." He mumbles sadly.

I blink, staring at him. "...What?" I chuckle, growing wary as he keeps giving me those kicked puppy dog eyes. "What the fuck are you on about, Baekhyun-"

"I miss you." He repeats. "I miss your voice, I miss your eyes, I miss waking up to your sleeping face next to mine." He takes a shaky breath, tears filling his eyes. "I miss your strawberry scent on our pillows. I miss your loving words. I miss you complaining about my random ramblings and shutting me up with a kiss… I miss everything about you." He drags his eyes back up to mine then. "I miss you so much I wake up every day and fall apart when I remember that you aren't there."

Sucking in a breath, I look away from him, my anger long forgotten. I… I don't know what to say. "You…" A lump forms in my throat. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to restrain my wobbling chin.

Baekhyun keeps his eyes on me, pleading with me with their sad, brown depths. He doesn't expect the slap I land on his pretty face.

"You fucking bastard," I mutter lowly, shaking in anger, the last of my sanity flying out of the window. "You don't get to come in here and say all this fucking bullshit when you couldn't even tell your fucking mother that you were dating me!" I scream, my vocal chords pulling harder than my heart strings. "You were dating me, living with me, loving me, fucking me-" I laugh, throwing my hand out to show off the car. "For a whole year. Then you come here with your pretty, pitiful little empty words and expect me to forgive you? Really? You really think so little of me?"

"Ri-"

"Did you not get it the first time?" I ask in the sweetest of tones, my Southern accent out on full display. "Huh? You told your dear mother about us then suddenly come running back after me? Did having her approval feel that good little puppy?"

Baekhyun's face burns a dozen different shades of red, but I'm not fucking done yet.

"Here comes the man who was so overcome with jealousy over my best friend that he pretended to fuck another whore at his party," I list off on my fingers, my voice growing louder with every word I fire at him."Here goes the man who accused me of fucking Jongin because I wanted to be left alone at a mother fucking party. Here sits the man—who had the audacity to cheat on me not once, but twice!" My lips curl up into the ugliest sneer, glaring at Baekhyun hard enough to kill. "And here lies the cowardly man who will lie like a pig in mud for the rest of eternity as far as I am concerned."

I'm huffing and puffing by the time I'm done, not even waiting for him to say anything before starting back up again. "You know I never and would never have cheated on you, right?" I ask, lowering the volume of my voice. "If I didn't want to be faithful to you, Baekhyun, I would have been with someone else. I don't pull stunts to be petty and shit. If you didn't know that about me now, you're a fucking idiot, and if you don't believe me, then I don't know what to tell you." I shrug, leaning back tiredly into my seat and keeping my eyes forward on the empty road ahead.

"I get that," He says quietly.

A chuckle bubbles in my aching chest. "Do you?" I raise a brow, trying to calm down. "Do you understand how stupid it is to cheat on someone just because you're feeling petty or uncomfortable in a situation-"

"I never cheated on you."

"Ha!" I bark out a laugh. "And I don't have 4C hair." Rolling my eyes, I throw my hands up. "What? So that model at the photoshoot and the lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt wasn't you cheating? Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Really? You really are going to deny-"

"Melody tripped over a sewage drain and that model forced herself onto me." He states firmly. "Neither was consensual or intentional."

Both my brows raise. "Huh. You know, it's real funny how you have an explanation for that now." I roll down my window to cool off, leaning my elbow onto the window seal and my chin in my palm before turning to him again. "Where was this energy months ago?" 

Baekhyun nods. "You're right. I am a coward," He admits, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Dumb enough to not say anything and dumb enough to think that you'd figure it out because I…" He trails off, biting his lips before those teary brown eyes lock onto mine again. Taking my breath away with the endless storm of emotions swirling within them. "With you, I'm like an open book. You always saw right through me, so I thought… I thought I didn't have to say anything," His head drops, looking down at the neat bags sitting at his feet. "And when I did, it was too late."

My eyes narrow. "How do I know you aren't bullshtting me?"

"I have nothing left to lose," He shrugs, smiling sadly.

Anger flares up in me again. "What is that supposed to mean-"

"I already lost you."

My mouth snaps shut, a feeling I haven't felt in months squeezing my heart in earnest.

"Everything you said was true," He mumbles. "All of it. The secrets, the lies-"

"And what makes you say that?"

His ears burn brighter than the red handprint on his cheek. "I'm seeing a therapist."

"Oh—Shit..." A wave of white hot shame falls over me. "Baekhyun, I-I'm sorry-"

"No." He shakes his head before bending down, the paper bags rustling in his grasp. "Don't. You said nothing but the truth."

"That still doesn't make it okay…" I rub the back of my neck, cursing myself inwardly for my anger. I hadn't meant to go off on him, that wasn't my intention—

"It's only fair," He mutters, shrugging weakly. "I've said worse to you."

"I…" I can't help but sigh, at a loss for words. "...I'm proud of you, seeing a therapist takes a lot of courage and self awareness."

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you're doing okay," I mumble.

Baekhyun stiffens up. Suddenly the atmosphere in the car shifts into something more melancholic.

"B-Baek?"

He lifts up his head, revealing his tear-stained face to me. "You think so?"

My heart clenches in anguish. "Baekhyun-"

"After everything you…" His voice breaks. "You think I'm fine? You think I'm okay?" Tears dampen the long strands of silver hair dangling in his eyes. "I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I haven't breathed—I haven't lived since the day you left." He croaks, sucking in a breath. "So if you think that I am okay, I am not."

I have nothing else to say after that. What can I even say...?

Feeling tears form in my own eyes, I turn the car back on. My mom always taught me that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say nothing at all. And after I slapped him and said all of those things…

I pull off of the curb, hiding my tears away from him. There's nothing I can do but take him home and hope that in the distant future… In a brand new life… He can forgive me for everything I've done to him and move on too.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence. No radio. No cars zooming past. The only thing I hear is his quiet sniffles and the cry of my wheezing heart.

"Thanks for taking me home," He mumbles in the softest of tones, mumbling more to his scuffed up sneakers than to me.

"No problem," I say softly, reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder only to pause, gripping the steering wheel again. "Make sure to take some Advil from the third cabinet on the right, okay?"

Baekhyun nods, hiding under the strands of his messy hair. He scares the hell out of me when his head suddenly shoots up again.

"Baek…?" I whisper, not sure what to do as he starts leaning in. He reveals his face to me up close for the first time in months. Heart-wrenching features that I know so well. The droopy shape of his brown eyes, the soft slope of his button nose, the cute little mole on top of his soft pink, thin lips that are pursed in concentration. For what? I have no idea. "Baekhyun-"

He slams his hand down on the dashboard, making me flinch. "Spider," He mutters, opening his hand to reveal its creepy squished body. I shiver at the sight. "I don't want you getting into a wreck. I know how you hate-" He sighs loudly, shaking his head. "Never mind…"

Yeah… I gulp, forcing a smile. Never mind.

"Travel safely, okay?" He takes his bags of food and steps out of the car, moving to close the door only to pause, meeting my eyes from under the bright city lights. "Goodnight, Riley."

It takes everything in me not to break down right there and then. "Good-" My lips wobble. I clear my throat, brushing my hair back before daring to look into his dull brown eyes again. "Goodnight, Baekhyun."

He smiles so small and sadly, making my heart weep when he closes the door and walks off to enter his apartment building.

I sit there for a few moments, staring out at the busy street ahead. It's so funny… This empty feeling in my chest. It's… It's like I never left…

•••

It's unfair… how much your heart hurts when you're stuck on someone. Realizing that no matter how many times they've hurt you, your broken heart still beats for them… and only them.

No matter how hard I try to deny it, the heart doesn't lie…

Baekhyun… is still a part of me. His scent may have faded, his t-shirts and hoodies are cleared out from my room… but the memory of him lives on in my heart. And I can't get rid of him without breaking myself completely and reforming a "perfect mold" to fit myself in.

Ha… funny how that works. 7 months of moving on has led up to this. Nothing. 7 months, 12 months, or 30 years, Baekhyun's scent can wash off of my skin, but the rest of the world won't let me break the two of us apart. If I am my brain, he is my heart. And you can't live without that muscle pumping steadily in your aching chest.

It's so unfair… because I'm trying my hardest to move on with someone else.

It takes me forever to get ready for my date tonight, and when I do… Something tells me to cancel it. But I can't. Jackson will be busy for the next month and a half. This is the only time in his schedule where he can take me out on the "proper date" as he likes to call it. Which he doesn't have to, I'm not that hard to please. I mean for fuck sake, I haven't had an official date until I was 20. 

I'm not picky about these things, but I ended up agreeing in the end anyway. The sad puppy look on Jackson's face when I tried to decline going to a restaurant to just stay in and watch movies instead still haunts me. Those almond shaped, dark brown puppy eyes… Damn him.

Sighing softly, I carefully apply my eyeliner in my vanity mirror, checking over my appearance one last time and smiling at the result. My lips are the richest shade of red, dark brown, waist-length hair curled to perfection, and the crystal earrings I haven't worn in ages sparkle every time they catch the light. Perfect for my chosen dress for the night.

It's a little something that I've bought recently. A spaghetti strapped, black velvet piece with a cowl shaped neck that shows off a bit of my cleavage, form-fitting all the way down to the V shaped end of the dress. It ends high on my thigh, but I have no plans to go dancing tonight, (for Jackson's sake). It's just enough to make him a little hot under his expensive collar. Especially with the lace strings crisscrossed in the back that are the only thing holding the dress up.

A low buzz makes me jump, startling me out of my thoughts. I fish for my phone in the vibrating purse in my lap. I haven't taken it out since last night… The weight of Baekhyun's unblocked number in my phone is a heavy load... and I only have myself to blame.

My eyes widen at the caller ID on the screen: Him. And I know exactly who he is.

Biting my nails, I weigh my options: answer now and end up canceling my plans or call him back tomorrow... 

…

Would it really be that bad to cancel? No—I can't. Jackson thinks I'm a punctual woman and…

"Always so sweet for me," He murmurs lowly, painting my skin with the shape of his lips.

My breath hitches, mouth going dry as more memories dance in my mind. Skin on skin, hushed whispers, champagne painted breaths...

"Mmm you're so wet," He groans, grazing my clit with his teeth. "Making a mess all over me."

A knock on my door makes me pause, staring down at the buzzing phone in my hand.

7 months without Baekhyun… and it has resorted to this.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—Fuck!

I power down the phone, toss it back into my bag, pull it onto my shoulder and launch myself out of my chair to open the door before I lose my nerve. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door makes my heart flutter, but…

"Hey," Jackson smiles softly, his dark brown eyes sparkling under the bright lights.

It doesn't take my breath away.

"Hi," I manage a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"You look beautiful," He compliments, his eyes sparkling even more as he looks over my dress before meeting my eyes again.

My smile grows, warmth spreading over my cheeks. "Thank you," I mutter softly, laughing a little. "You're not too bad yourself."

He smiles again, gesturing to me, the shine of his thin gold bracelet reflecting the hallway lights. "May I?"

"Hmm?—Oh!" I gasp, noticing the red and black corsage in his hands. "Y-Yes," I smile shyly, my heart pounding when he holds out his hand to me.

Jackson gently takes my hand, carefully slipping the corsage around my wrist. The caress of his rough fingertips makes a shiver go down my spine, goosebumps left on my skin when he pulls away.

His outfit catches my attention. Normally I'd feel a little shameless for looking at him from head to toe, but after what happened earlier… I can use a distraction.

He's wearing a black blazer with a matching lace turtleneck shirt underneath that gives me a glimpse of his toned skin, making my breath hitch. A golden necklace with a pendant rests in the middle of his chest, making him look so attractive when it twinkles under the lights. And with the way his shirt is tucked into his stylish black jeans… Fuck me ten times over.

My eyes trail further down his body. He has on that expensive gold watch I saw the first time we met and elegant rings on his veiny hands. I forget to breathe remembering how it felt to be held in his strong arms...

Snapping out of my daze, my wide eyes dart back up to his, finding the sweetest of shy smiles on his lips and a pink hue to his cheeks. He just caught me checking him out and he's blushing. Adorable. Clearing my throat, I smile, feeling my own face heat up under his admiring gaze. "Not bad at all."

His soft chuckle makes me feel less embarrassed. Maybe he can tell that I'm nervous… but not what has me so nervous.

Baekhyun's tear-stained face has been haunting me all day and I barely managed to get any sleep last night. His small voice replays in my head and soft spoken words cover my skin. My face heats up and pales at the same time at the reminder of what I was thinking about not even 10 minutes ago. I had a memory of him going down on me for Christ sake! Looking up at Jackson's handsome face, I feel another wave of hot shame. Can the ground please open up and swallow me whole?

"Shall we?" Jackson asks, bring my attention back to him. He offers his elbow to me, waiting for me to lock my arm with his. Another smile forms on my face; I have to suppress a giggle bubbling in my chest. He's so sweet and gentle compared to all the other men in my life. Ugh, my poor heart is racing like crazy.

I lock the door behind me and wrap my arm around his, appreciating the firmness of his bicep as he leads us down the hallway. The taps of our respective shoes echo around the quiet hall while we wait a few minutes for the elevator to arrive. "I'm not taking too much of your time, am I?" I mumble, watching the floor numbers rise to avoid his gaze.

"Hmm?" Jackson hums, his alluring cologne hitting me when he turns his head to look at me.

"Your schedule," I elaborate, glancing at him from under my eyelashes. "I'm not infringing on your work time, am I?"

"No," He shakes his head, holding the metal doors open for me while I walk into the elevator.

"But you said you are in the middle of the most important part of filming and-" I stop, my eyes widening at the warmth on my cheeks.

"Riley." Jackson looks right into my eyes, his rough palms cradling my face. "You are not 'taking too much' of my time, alright?" He mumbles, brown eyes drifting over my features while his thumb swipes over the top of my cheek, leaving a blaze of gentle heat in its wake. "This night is for us."

My heart practically leaps out of my chest the longer I stare into his warm eyes. I break eye contact. "O-Okay," I whisper, smiling shyly.

Jackson smiles, taking my hand when the elevator doors open onto the ground floor. As we walk past the security guard in the lobby, I wonder how I look next to him… He's the same height as Baekhyun, more toned where the latter has softer edges. They both have sharp jawlines, but Jackson's cheeks are more chiseled than squishy like Baekhyun's sweet face—

"Ladies first," His low voice muses.

Lifting my head from my white high heels, I look into Jackson's eyes, realizing that his dark brown eyes don't hold the same tension Baekhyun's does when I am taller than him like this. My shyness aside, with my almost average height and tall heels, I'm a few centimeters taller than Jackson. But instead of finding that spark of insecurity I'm used to seeing in Baekhyun's eyes, Jackson looks at me as if I am the goddess who put the moon in the sky.

Stepping out into the quiet night, I look up at the stars, having to blink a few times when I see a pair of droopy brown eyes staring down at me. No. I shake my head, sighing in frustration. God, why do I see him everywhere I go?

We make our way to the parking lot on the side of the apartment complex. The silence between us isn't striffling like the one I've come to grow wary of over the past year. That piercing void full of held back frustration and heated glares...

A car unlocks in the distance, drawing my attention to a sleek black vehicle when it lights up. A Jaguar, stunning with it's cat-eye headlights and the way the engine purrs to life. The car is honestly mesmerizing, and it suits Jackson well, but my heart tugs painfully in my chest when he opens the passenger door for me and I don't see any red accessory detailing on the inside...

"You look stunning in that dress." He says when he climbs into the driver's seat, his low voice making me feel something deep in my stomach.

"T-Thank you," I blush scarlet, shifting towards the passenger window to hide my red face. It's been a long time since someone has complimented me so genuinely. I haven't felt like this since—

"Are you really that insecure?"

The memory hits me like a punch to the gut.

"You okay?" Jackson asks, his eyes shining with concern.

"Y-Yeah," I whisper, clutching onto my purse. My face hasn't cooled down since I left my apartment and I doubt it will at this rate. Between Jackson's sweet eyes and Baekhyun's teary ones that haven't left my mind, I'm royally screwed. "How's work?" 

Jackson hums. "It's good." He keeps his eyes on the road, pulling out of the parking lot. "The movie is coming along nicely."

Taking a few discrete and deep breaths, I rest my head on my arm, focusing on the low timbre of his raspy voice. "Did the tech team find any more of those files?"

"No." He shakes his head, making a left turn. "Thankfully those were the only ones," He smiles, glancing over at me; the twinkles of excitement and affection in his eyes is hard to ignore. "Now the editing team can take over."

I fight the urge to rest a hand over my heart. "The movie won't be delayed?"

"The movie won't be delayed," He confirms warmly, focusing fully on me at the next red light. His brown hair falls attractively over his forehead, casting a shadow over his dark and expressive eyes. "We'll be ahead of schedule. Everyone worked in advance while waiting for the tech team to sort through the files."

"That's good," I smile, turning my attention to our surroundings streaming past the window.

Jackson navigates us down the long Seoul streets, the city lights reflecting in his dark eyes while he steers the wheel with both hands. He looks handsome under the favor of the moonlight, the headlights of passing cars sparkling across his thin necklace. For a moment I imagine a future—an us. How it would feel to hold his calloused hands and gaze into his adoring eyes. What it would be like to wake up to his face in the mornings. That deep, raspy voice… I shiver at the thought, praying the traffic lights don't show the red hue I feel on my cheeks.

Soft and slow R&B floats from the quiet car radio, caressing my ears with its gentle melodies while Jackson turns his blinkers on. I hum, tapping along to the beat, a smile curling at my lips. It's a perfect song for a summer night like this, adding a calming atmosphere to the intimate space of Jackson's car—

"I love this song."

Baekhyun raises a brow, his eyes focused on the road as he turns up the radio with a smile. "Really?"

"Yeah." He has such a stunning side profile, I could gaze at him for hours. "I listened to a lot of their songs growing up."

"Your parents have great taste."

"Mm." The sunlight reflecting in his brown eyes has nothing on the sparkles of happiness in his shining orbs. "I guess you do too."

I sigh through my nose, shoving down the emotions budding in my chest. No matter how hard I try, memories of him continue to play in my mind. All our romantic mid-day drives and late night talks of a future we thought we had in store… Our shared hopes and dreams that went up in flames before our very eyes.

Next thing I know, Jackson is putting the car into park, the purr of the engine cutting off in exchange for the summer heat seeping in through the pause of the air conditioner.

"You ready?" He looks over at me, the urge to brush his hair out of his eyes hitting me full force.

"Yeah," I smile, curling my hand around the strap of my purse. The giddy smile he gives me in return is so damn sweet I want to cry.

Jackson steps out of the Jaguar and it doesn't take him long to round the car. He opens the passenger door for me before I realize that we've reached the restaurant.

"Thank you," I giggle in embarrassment, placing my hand in the one he offers me with another one of those adorable smiles of his. My heart skips a beat when he presses a kiss to the back of my hand while I step out onto the asphalt. If he keeps this up I'm going to have a heart attack over this softness. What the hell, why aren't there more guys like Jackson in the world? And how the hell has he been single this whole time with him out here sweeping me off my feet like this?

His widened smile and the way his eyes drift over my features has a comforting warmth settling over my beating heart. He leads the way to the restaurant, opening the door for me like the heart-fluttering gentleman he is. He's going all out on winning me over tonight and I'm loving every minute of it.

The smell of freshly baked lasagna and garlic bread has my mouth watering as we make our way up to the counter. I catch a peek at the beautifully arranged, round wooden tables under a romantic lighting in the next room.

"Reservations for Wang." Jackson's voice sounds more firm when he addresses the lady at the counter, a flicker of his director persona flashing across his face. If nothing else, one look at him and you can tell that he's about business—even for a little date like this. A first date too. It's hard fighting my adoring smile.

The receptionist checks on the computer in front of her and looks down at her clipboard, nodding with a polite smile. "Right this way," She gestures to the next room. Her black suit, matching bow tie, and crisp clean, white dress shirt add onto the expensive air of the restaurant. The food is fresh, the atmosphere is dreamy, and every surface shines brightly under the dim candle-lit lights.

The further we walk into the restaurant, the more I have to be sure not to let my jaw drop in awe. Everything about this place is magical, from the happily conversing customers to the beautiful chandeliers in the hallway. The receptionist leads us to a table in a more secluded area, the muffled chatter of the rest of the patrons coming through the velvet walls. "Your water will be out shortly," She sets the menus on the table before taking her leave with a bow.

"Allow me," Jackson murmurs, his words caressing my ear. His cologne washes over me when he walks over to the table, pulling out a chair and waiting for me with the most charming smile on his face. I can't hold my own back even if I tried.

"Thank you," I say warmly, humored and flattered beyond belief. The proximity of his hand to my bare shoulders has a pleasant shiver going down my spine. A flush forms on my face. The man has done nothing but be a gentleman and I'm over here yearning for his touch like a giddy teenager.

Jackson's scent hits me once again when he moves to take his seat. The minty smell of aftershave and a hint of his own unique manly scent has me damn near drooling and we haven't even had appetizers yet. My stomach is building tension and I doubt it has anything to do with the menu.

"How was your day?" He inquires.

I startle out of my horny musings like a cat doused in cold water. Oh shit. "It was alright," I laugh nervously, trying to keep my voice from wavering into that annoying raspy tone it gets when I'm not careful enough. "I turned in my final assignments and am awaiting my test results for the semester." 

A waiter comes to take our order, sparing me a few minutes from having to explain myself. I'm struggling to find words here. What am I supposed to say? "Oh yeah, I spent all day daydreaming about my heartbroken ex and the steamy sex we used to have." I'd die of embarrassment so damn fast. I'm appalled at myself.

"What are you studying?" His dark brown eyes are back on me when the waiter walks away. A flutter stutters in my chest under his attentive gaze.

"Business," I resist the urge to rest my chin on my palm, choosing to swirl my fork around my salad instead. "I'm working on my bachelor's degree. I want to improve my performance at work."

His eyes widen, curiosity painting on his handsome features. "What do you do?"

I smile softly. He's adorable. "I'm the Director at Park's Publishing."

"You work in a publishing house?"

"I manage the 5th floor," I share, a smirk quirking at my lips. The last thing I did this morning before going home around lunch was inform everyone about our busy schedule at the end of the month. "I miss my editing days, not gonna lie." I laugh, poking an olive. "Sorry, work kind of stresses me out."

"No," Jackson shakes his head, smiling softly, "I get it. Taking a group of people under your wing is a big responsibility."

"It's sooo difficult." Sighing, I cross my legs, the back of my heel clicking against the leg of my chair. "Since I'm not directly in charge of editing, I have to guide others and keep reminding myself that I can't do the work for them. They have to learn on their own."

"Same," He nods, swallowing a bite of Italian seasoning drenched tomato and lettuce. "I have to fight the urge to take things over that the marketing and editing teams are supposed to handle." A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, making me smile in understanding. "Good thing I'm not Ceo," He jokes. 

I laugh, thinking to myself: Yeah, thank fuck you aren't one.

When the waiter brings our food, the reminder that I haven't eaten all day stirs in my hungry stomach. I take a bite of my chicken alfredo before it can growl, closing my eyes to hide how they roll back when the gooey goodness of cheese and perfectly boiled noodle hits my tongue. Holy fuck. This food right here is the shit. If I had a meal like this more often, I'd never complain again in my life.

I find myself observing Jackson while he enjoys his own meal. He chews with his mouth closed, neatly cutting his chicken with a fork and knife. The room is quiet with only the soft music playing overhead and the sound of our silverware clicking against the pristine plates.

"I want to wake up every morning to your sleeping face curled up by my side," Baekhyun murmurs, smiling shyly.The red hue of his cheeks endearing under the dim lights. "Your hair products cluttering our dresser and your toothbrush next to mine."

"You really like cucumbers, huh?" Jackson muses.

I jolt out of my thoughts, realizing to my horror that I've been leaning over the table, picking the cucumbers from his salad. "Oh! Y-Yeah," I chuckle, my face burning scarlet. From humor or embarrassment, I have no idea. Probably both at this rate. "You could say that..."

Originally posted by sefuns

August fades seamlessly into September, urging the leaves on trees to change into red, orange, and pretty yellow hues. Gone are the dog days of summer smitting everyone from above. Now the best season of all is coming out to play, and I am all for it.

Skipping down the street in my newest yellow skater dress and nude sandals, I check the GPS on my phone to search for the street that I'm on. Today I decided that walking around aimlessly for hours was the best course of action to clear my mind, and now I've found myself in a part of Seoul that I've never been to before.

The architecture of the landscape around me is something to behold. The windows are cut out squares that only allow light to be seen from within the rooms as the sun goes down, and the buildings are curved this way and that in the most intricate of ways. It surely is a view I wouldn't mind venutring over here to see again sometime. The lively chatter of pedestrians on the sidewalk is refreshing too.

Smiling to myself, my eyes catch sight of a particular building in the distance. I quickly cross the street for a closer look. It's a giant library that looks to be 4 stories tall, showcasing a huge bookshelf on the back wall from the view of the front windows. Highly intrigued, and lowkey smitten, I step inside for a closer look.

The smell of books hits me in an instant, the young and old novels arranged neatly in little bookshelves compared to that mountain of literature on the farthest wall. There's a small cafe serving up delicious muffins to my right and a huge sitting area full of the perfect lounge chairs on my left. Crowds of people make their way to and fro between the aisles without hiccup. There's so much to do that I don't even know where to start.

Walking over to the Romance section, I skim my fingertips along the book covers, aimlessly striding down the aisle until a thin, blue book catches my eye. Curious, I move to pull it out only for another hand to beat me to it. A familiar, slender hand.

I yank my hand back at once. "Dude!" Lowering my voice, I glare at the man in front of me. "Why the hell are you always everywhere? Are you following me around or what?"

"W-What?" Baekhyun's wide brown eyes stare back at me.

"I never thought you'd resort to stalking, Baekhyun." I shake my head, brushing past him, the silver buttons of his waist-length jacket cold against my sun-kissed skin.

"I'm not fucking!" He slaps a hand over his face, exhaling deeply. "I'm not following you around."

"Then why are you here, huh?" I keep my eyes forward, marching into the next aisle.

"Because—will you stop walking away from me?!?!?!"

I freeze, the sheer desperation in his voice roots my feet to the floor. "Why are you here, Baekhyun?" I cross my arms, shivering under the air conditioner overhead.

"Hannam-dong library extraordinaire," He utters, his shadow moving closer as I tense up. "You put it on the bucket list. The one we made together." Hope pours out from his every word, his painfully slow footsteps seeming to stem from the faint memories crowding his mind. "You listed every place you wanted to go and w-we, we never…" He stops when his voice cracks, clearing his throat. "You made a copy by hand so we'd always have it," He mumbles sadly. "I guess it's meaningless now."

Emotions grip at my throat and tears threaten to fill my eyes. I slowly turn around, snatching the book out of his hands. "Give me that." Flickering my eyes up to his hurt-filled eyes, I gesture to the sitting area with my chin. "Follow me."

Baekhyun follows behind me without a word, shuffling his boots noisily on the carpeted floor. I have half the mind to tell him about it until I remember where we are—in a library and in life. Biting my tongue, I plop down into the longest couch available, staring at his nervous figure when he doesn't join me. "Come on!" I snap, throwing a pillow at him that he's quick to catch. "Sit your ass down, I don't got all day." I grumble, opening the blue book. "I came here to read and I plan to do so."

A few moments go by, nothing but the quiet chatter of visitors and the coffee pot whistling on the other side of the room fills the air. Just when my heart drops at the thought of him being gone, a weight sinks down into the couch next to me. I look to see Baekhyun in a grey sweater, his jacket left on the back of the chair. His eyes are closed and neck is bare while resting his head on the back of the couch. Silver locks of hair messily dangle on his forehead, long eyelashes caressing the tops of his cheeks. I frown at the lack of fluff I find there, his mother's words a distant whisper in my ear.

Baekhyun makes me jump when he peeks an eye open, opening the other before blinking slowly at me. "I'm listening," He murmurs softly, keeping those expressive brown eyes on me.

My heart skips a beat. Smiling to myself, I focus back on the book in my hands, flipping to the first page and beginning to read aloud.

•••

Weeks fly by once mid September hits, endless clusters of colored leaves blowing away in its wind. The sun rises later in the day and sets at a different angle at night, casting warm shadows over my bedroom window that never fail to bring a smile to my face. Everything about this time of year puts me in high spirits. The weather is perfect for my velvety outfits and the annoying ass bugs are finally starting to go away. It's a calm, homey fairytale land full of sweet breezes and mid autumn adventures.

I lean over my vanity while painstakingly applying my red lipstick in the mirror, smoothing it out with care. My makeup for tonight goes well with my newest party dress, a burgundy velvet, off the shoulder piece with a deep v neck. It has long puffed sleeves with fitted cuffs that wrap comfortably around my wrists and a matching belt to emphasize the hourglass shape of my waist. The thick material is perfect for early October, the nights beginning to get just the littlest bit colder.

Humming to myself, I carefully put on my gold dangling earrings, smiling at the reflection of my wavy hair. Just letting it air dry with curling irons in it for a few minutes ended up with the subtle result. I'm attending one of Jackson's infamous parties tonight as his date, not his seducer. Although, I don't need to get all dolled up to impress him anyway. Batting my eyelashes and looking intensely into his deep, dark brown eyes is enough.

This time around, I'm prepared for the knock on my door. Two months of various dates has sunk a certain time into my core. 10pm on the dot. Punctual as always. My red painted lips quirk up at the thought. With one last glance into my vanity mirror, I spin around on my one-inch, open-toed black heels, strutting over to open the door and whistling at the sight.

Jackson smiles, looking hot as hell in his black blazer and thin gold chain with no shirt underneath. His muscular thighs look amazing in his tight jeans, and with his brown hair brushed back with a few strands of hair attractively left on his forehead…

"You look gorgeous," He murmurs, planting a kiss on my forehead while I'm distracted by his two sets of gold earrings.

I smile coyly, tucking my finger in his necklace and tugging on it lightly. "You're not so bad yourself."

Conversations between us flow more easily over the past few months. I show him my sass and he throws it right back, making me laugh every time. His attractive mind comes up with the most astounding ideas and points of view. There are many different sides to him as well. His confident, professional way of handling business to how he likes to roll over on my couch to rest his head in my lap and look up at me with those dark brown puppy eyes. 

Things are easy—that's just how it is with Jackson. It's a nice change from the complicated men in my life. He's adorable and sexy all in one.

The clicks of my heels echo across the sidewalk as we walk up to the frat house, my hand wrapped around his bicep. The party is just starting to pick up it seems; a fair amount of party goers are streaming in the front double doors.

"I want to introduce you to someone," Jackson perks up the moment we reach the entrance.

"Really?" I bat my eyes at him, stepping closer when someone brushes past us in a hurry. "Well, I'm down for that."

He smiles, holding the door open for me. I softly squeeze his bicep before letting him go, walking into his alumni house for the first time in almost a year. Last December I was crossing this same threshold with Jenny by my side, can you believe that? A lot can happen in 10 months, and I can't wait for what's in store for me.

"Jackson!" A deep voice reaches us over the loud music and growing crowd. I can barely make out a figure under all the neon lights, beckoning us over. Jackson's cologne washes over me before I feel his arm brush against my back.

"Let's go," He takes my hand in his, a smile audible in his raspy voice. I follow his lead, swiveling my head around to take in the view of the house. Just as I thought, everything is impeccably arranged. From the mini bar in the back corner to the DJ booth, it screams Jackson. Charming. Intelligent. And expensive. Even with the clumsy party attendees stumbling around.

He turns the corner on the right side of the hallway, following the medium-build figure walking down to a slightly ajar door at the end of the hall. The chatter from within the small room comes to a halt when the stranger pushes open the door.

"Took you long enough, Tuan!" A high-pitched, bubbly voice laughs, their plump lips smiling in amusement.

The man we've been following turns around, smiling while 5 other pairs of eyes land on us. "Hey, man."

"Mark," Jackson steps forward for a bro hug, clapping a hand over the raven's back. He goes around to do the same and fist bumps the other men in the room before standing next to me again. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

All of them smile, curiosity and friendliness coming off of them in waves—except for one.

Yugyeom sits with his legs crossed in the far corner of the room, smirking while leaning his head in his hand. I make a point to ignore him, shaking everyone's hand with my most polite smile. Their compliments of my dress has me blushing all the way up to my ears. Thankfully the dim lights hide it from view.

Jackson and I take a spot on the only available couch in the cozy room, sitting between Mark and another man with sharp cat-like eyes and a barbell piercing.

"Is this your first party?" The latter asks, swirling the brown alcohol in his glass.

"No," I smile, way too aware of Yugyeom's stare burning into the side of my head. I carefully open a can of beer that Jackson hands to me, taking a long sip.

"Huh," He takes a swing of his drink while I lean my head onto Jackson's shoulder. "Why haven't I seen you around before?"

"I have," Yugyeom joins in, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at me from over the rim of his glass. My eye twitches. Yeah, I see why this little shit and Jenny broke up.

I quietly observe everyone while the night carries on, the faint bass from the music down the hallway vibrating through the floor. Jackson catches up with his "brothers," in the meantime, updating them on the progress of his film. My eyes lazily sweep over the well-furnished room, the edges of my vision turning blurry. I make sure that the next two cans of beer that I drink aren't open when they are handed to me.

Sometime around midnight, I loosen up, the buzz of alcohol rushing through my veins prompting me to lose my filter. Between BamBam with the plush lips playful banter and the juicy tales of Jaebum's romantic conquests, I'm positively beaming, chatting without a care with my legs draped over Jackson's lap.

Mark cracks a joke that sends me reeling, nearly falling off of the couch if it wasn't for the man next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist. I hide my face in the crook of his neck, taking in his vanilla scent. The hint of citrus on his honey-toned skin has warmth spreading over my chest, the image of his sweet, brown puppy eyes printed behind my eyelids.

I laugh until I realize how dead silent the room has gotten. Lifting my head, I look around before tugging lightly on Jackson's sleeve. "Hey..." I murmur with difficulty, growing unnerved under their piercing stares. "What's-"

"Let's call it a night," He mutters, not meeting my eye.

Snapping my mouth shut, I nod, wondering what I did wrong while he bids everyone goodnight. I stand up with the help of his hand on my arm, guiding me over to the doorway that seems to be tilting to the side.

"Hey…" I try again, focusing hard on putting one foot in front of the other. What happened…? Did I laugh too hard? React too dramatically? Is there a piece of fruit stuck between my teeth? I knew I shouldn't have had that parfait before—

Jackson pulls aside me to an empty corner shielded by large plants in the hallway. His lips part a few times before he presses them into a thin line. "You just called me Baekhyun," He mutters, clenching his jaw.

Oh. I sober up in a heartbeat. "S-Shit, I-" The color drains from my face the longer I gaze into his disappointed dark brown eyes. I can feel tears filling my own. "I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine." His stiff posture says otherwise and I've never seen such a hard expression on his features before. "I'll drive you home."

"Wait…" Resting my hand on his arm, I brace myself with a racing heart for the backlash I'll get for what I'm about to ask. "C-Can you drop me off somewhere instead?"

•••

The car ride into the heart of Seoul is stifling. I can't recall us ever being like this… let alone having Jackson angry with me. His grip on the steering wheel has his knuckles turning white, the clench of his jaw concerning me as well. I can only blame myself, swearing inwardly for coming out tonight. 

This wasn't supposed to happen… None of this was. The Baekhyun; the shy smiles; the longing. The Yugyeom; the drinking; the nerves... If I could go back in time, I never would have gone to that frat party last year. I would have stayed at Jenny's apartment, bonding over skincare routines and shitty tv shows. But no... I had to go out that December night, and now I am facing the consequences.

It's taking everything in me just to hold back my tears.

"We're here." Jackson speaks up after an hour of silence, nothing but the zooming cars and lively nightlife filling up the empty space from beyond the tinted windows. It does little to ease the tension in the car—it only seems to build when he pulls up to the curb, leaving the engine running.

A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I can't even face him right now. By the cold look in his eyes, I know there is no use trying to talk to him. I can't even defend myself. There's only one explanation for what happened earlier, and it's the most shitty one of all... 

Baekhyun.

On my mind; in my thoughts; in my heart. The way his long eyelashes brush the top of his glowy cheeks and the world swirling in his sparkly brown eyes when he looks at me. Everywhere I go, I see him, feel him, and wish he was there… From the darkest crevices of my anxious mind to the deepest depths of my beating heart.

No matter where I turn. No matter how much I try. There is only one man in the world for me in this lifetime. There is only one name my soul cries out for… and it isn't the one next to me.

I swallow hard, my heart aching for Jackson. The telling shine of tears reflected in his brown eyes can't be hidden when a truck drives past, revealing the vulnerability in his dark eyes. I hate that things are ending this way. The pounding of my head and sour taste on the back of my tongue are only reminders of how much I've messed up tonight.

Working up my nerve, I step out of his Jaguar, ducking my head back inside with a tight grip on the door.

"Thank you," I whisper over the loud crickets and crying tree frogs, "For everything." Sighing shakily, I crack one last smile as a tear rolls down my cheek. "Thank you for showing me how wonderful life can be."

Jackson turns his head, regarding me with teary, fire-filled eyes. His throat bobs and he manages a small smile in return, nodding slowly. "The pleasure is all mine, Riley."

With a pounding heart, I close the car door with care, walking onto the curb. I look back over my shoulder one more time when I reach the doors of the apartment complex, watching him drive off with a sad smile. The quiet night wraps around me, bringing me little comfort against the bitter cold that I feel inside of my heart. What if I'm making a mistake? I just walked away from the only man who treated me the way I deserve… A stable, well off man for a broken, world shattering one.

A million thoughts race through my mind while climbing the stairs to his apartment, my hand clutching onto the railing for dear life. What if he's not home? What if I'm too late? What if he's finally moved on and I'm the only one still stuck in the past? Still stuck on us?

Tears spring to my eyes, making it hard to see the wobbly steps with my blurred vision, but I carry on, one step at a time. Something tugs deep in my chest—a gut feeling. One that has me pausing from the sheer force behind it.

Baekhyun is my home, and he is waiting for me.

I break out into a run, nearly slipping on the last step before I reach the landing of the fourth floor, swinging the stairway door open so hard it collides with the wall. My heels pound against the marble floor until I trip over something, slamming my head on his door. The resounding thud echoes across the silent walls and the door is yanked open within seconds.

His wide, shock-filled brown eyes stare at me from the doorway, with his messy silver hair and a white wrinkled t-shirt.

I all but throw myself at him.

Baekhyun gasps, catching me before I fall. "Riley, I-"

"No." I shake my head, hugging him tighter, my voice wavering. "You listen to me." Looking up into his brown eyes, I cup his warm cheeks in my cold hands. "I don't care how long it takes, I don't care how much my heart breaks." My chin wobbles, salty tears streaming like a waterfall down my face, but nothing else matters. Nothing can hurt me when I'm in his comforting embrace.

"If it's not with you, I don't want it," I breathe, staring deep into his glimmering eyes. "Do you hear me? You can break my heart a million times, and I can do the same." Swiping a tear from under his eye, I cradle his face in my palm, painting his vulnerable expression into memory. "As long as we mend it back together, we will be okay." I nod, looking between his wide eyes. "We will get through this." I state firmly, melting against him when he tightens his hold on my waist. "We are in this together. Okay?" His silence is worrying me… "B?"

"Are you…" He slowly reaches up, cupping my cold cheek in his warm hand, his frantic brown eyes searching mine for answers. "Are you really here?" He whispers.

"Yes." I watch the light begin to return to his tired eyes. "I'm here, Baekhyun." I pull him closer, squeezing him in my arms, his racing heart beating in sync with mine. "I'm here." My heart drops when he pulls away.

Baekhyun shakes his head, moving his hand from my cheek to take mine into his. "I'm stubborn, insecure, and possessive." He mutters, gazing right into my eyes, determination written all over his face. "I'm… I'm annoying, overbearing, and a workaholic."

I give him my softest, loving smile. "Well, me too." Slowly reaching for him again, I paint my name on his honey-toned skin with my fingertips. "Let's be fucked up together, hmm?"

"I…" He sighs, resting his forehead on mine, staring lovingly and worriedly into my eyes. "I don't want you to regret this."

"I won't," I murmur, tracing three little words across his collarbones. "If I do, we'll fight and then have makeup sex."

Baekhyun chokes. "You're terrible." He coughs, patting his chest, the red hue on his cheeks more endearing than ever before.

I shrug, smiling at him. "When it comes to you?" Sliding my hand up his chest, I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, hovering my lips over his, "I am many things."

•••

It's funny; how easy it is to fall back into him. His loving arms and secure embrace. Every day spent with him slowly mends the cracks in my fragile heart, filling them with the most everlasting remedy of all. Love.

Time is endless when I am with him. Moments become weeks. Seconds turn into hours. Being with Baekhyun makes any taxing and mundane task into a precious activity that I'd love to do again—just because it's him.

Our dynamic has changed, even the air around us is new. We talk about everything. We face problems head on. A few arguments break out sometimes because we are two stubborn individuals, but those aren't a problem now. No big fights. No tearing into each other. I may call him an asshole and he'll rebuke with that I'm being a bitch, (which I am more often than not,) but at the end of the day. When the tension is gone and our sad eyes lock from across the room. We work things out and fall more in love with each other, no matter the struggle we've been through.

—Like right now.

"Perfect," I laugh bitterly, taking out my earrings while storming into the living room. "Fucking perfect."

"Riley," Baekhyun sighs, closing the door.

"No. Fuck this." I spit heatedly, throwing my hands up. "You always do this bullshit. Every time I go out you have something to say. What is it, huh? Why you always got to be up in my shit-"

Turning to him, I'm met by tired brown eyes, his hands falling limply to his sides. "Can we talk this out?" He asks softly, eyes pleading. "I rather hold you than fight."

Still huffing and puffing, I stare into his puppy eyes and sad pout. Without a word, I march over to him, tucking myself under his chin and wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I get it, okay? I have no problems with you going out with your friends." He mumbles into my hair, kissing my head. "I just want to make sure you are safe. Call me, text me, send me a pic to let me know that you're alright." He pulls back a little to cup my face in his hands, staring deep into my eyes. "You're my baby," He whispers, brushing frustrated tears from my cheeks. "If something ever happened to you I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Please understand where I'm coming from."

"Okay." I mumble against his shoulder, hiding more in his vanilla scent. "...I'm sorry for going off on you."

"Shh," Baekhyun hugs me tighter, surrounding me in his warmth and tangling his fingers in my hair. "I trust you, okay?" He nuzzles in my hair, sighing softly. "It's the rest of the world that I don't."

I love him. I love him with every part of me. If I had the chance to go back in time, I'd choose to meet him every time. Even on days where I have to walk out of his apartment to catch a breather. Those cold nights where I stubbornly shiver on his balcony until he comes out to place his jacket on my shoulders. And the times I ask myself why the hell I'm fighting with him over which color we should switch his window curtains into again. Despite all the good and the bad. The happiness and earth shattering agony. I wouldn't change it for the world.

"Are you cold?" Baekhyun mumbles, bringing the back of my hand to his cheek.

"I'm fine, B," I reassure, ignoring the goosebumps that erupt on my skin. From his loving touch or the cold bite of the November air, I have no idea. Most likely both.

"You're shivering." He points out, already struggling off his jacket before I can respond. "I told you it would be cold today."

"I wanted to take the risk, okay?" I sigh, smiling into the cinnamon scented fabric he places on my shoulders.

"It's the middle of November," He murmurs with a shake of his head, tucking our joined hands into the pocket of his jeans.

"Maybe," I mumble in amusement, beaming at him and batting my eyelashes. "But you love this dress on me. Admit it." Today I'm wearing a royal blue summer dress. The weather may be shifting from windy fall to bitter winter, but that won't stop me from rocking this sleeveless, v neck, shirt dress with a tie around my waist.

Baekhyun's eyes shift away from the red crosswalk light ahead to look me over, taking his time with a little cheeky smile on his face. "Well," He murmurs, mischief shining in his sparkly brown eyes. "I can't deny that."

I giggle, ignoring the warmth on my cheeks when he softly squeezes my hand, leading the way as we cross the street. I've missed this feeling: walking hand and hand—our fingers interwtined and young hearts racing as one. Not even the chilly wind can ruin the mood I'm in—I just tuck myself closer to his side.

Baekhyun hums, wrapping his arm around me, pulling me closer when a group of children come running down the sidewalk. The shrill voice of their scolding mother has us sharing a knowing look, smiling shyly. Yeah, nothing quite gets better than this.

"Riley?"

I stiffen, that low, raspy voice shakes me to my very core.

Baekhyun's brown eyes shoot to mine in an instant. "Baby?" He murmurs, a worried frown on his face as he leans to my ear. "Do you know him?"

"Um-" I avoid his eyes, holding onto the hem of his shirt for dear life. "I- Uh-"

A shadow falls over us before a figure walks around to face us, and those dark brown puppy eyes have never looked so solemn. Fuck.

"Jackson Wang?" Baekhyun blinks, sending me into an internal panic. "Hey, man," He smiles, going in for a handshake. "Long time no see. How's the movie?"

Jackson's brown eyes stare into mine before he looks down at Baekhyun's hand. "Good."

Baekhyun frowns, retracting his hand, confusion written all over his face.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," I manage a small, polite smile, my heart racing nervously when Jackson pulls the towel from around his neck, his dark brown eyes landing back on me. "What you up to?" I tilt my head, resting a hand on Baekhyun's back.

"Out for a jog," Jackson shrugs, the fabric of his black t-shirt sticking to his damp skin. His eyes track how Baekhyun reaches back to take my hand into his. "I was supposed to play basketball with the guys," He continues sourly, "But they blew me off."

"Ah…" I purse my lips, straining another smile. "I hope you all can meet up soon."

He nods, the clench of his jaw and unreadable look in his eyes telling me all that I need to know.

"Well!" Resting my hand on Baekhyun's bicep, I risk a glance at him, unnerved at the equally hard to read expression on his features. "Baekhyun and I will be heading out now. We have reservations to make."

Jackson merely nods, his eyes burning into the back of my head as I lead Baekhyun around him. "See you around, Riley."

Cursing under my breath, I shoot him one last smile over my shoulder, urging Baekyun to walk faster. I hold my breath until we turn the corner onto the next street. "Geez what a mess," I mutter, loosening my death grip on his hand.

Baekhyun continues to securely hold onto my hand and his calm, quiet reaction has me more anxious than all the fights we've had combined. "B-Baekhyun?" I ask tentatively, trying to read his side profile. "Are you okay?" The way his silence stretches out is killing me. "B?"

"Well," He mumbles, nudging a stray rock on the ground. "Jackson is nice. He seems cool."

Uh oh. "Baekhyun-"

"No no, it's fine." He shakes his head. "I see the appeal, you know?" He looks over at me, smiling sadly. "Sharp jawline, muscular, more manly than I'll ever-"

I pull him into the nearest alleyway for privacy before facing him head on, resting my hands on his chest. "You know I only want you, right B?"

"I-I do, I just-" If the kicked puppy expression on his face was for anything else, I'd find it endearing. "He's so well put together and-"

I promptly press my lips to his, pulling back after a few moments with a raised brow. "Better?"

Baekhyun's lips part a few times, the open expression on his face cute as hell. He makes a small noise and hugs me close, sealing my lips in another kiss.

After that day, the ice has broken between us—the last wall I had built up came crumbling down. Hiding from Baekhyun isn't needed anymore. The reassurance that we can actually talk about things instead of letting tension build is all I could ask for, alongside his love and time of course. If only I could be with him tonight.

Mrs. Park wanted me to attend a press conference or whatever with her out of the blue, saying something about it being "a big deal" and "very important" that I be there. So here I am, accessing my options for the night.

Three different outfits cover the entirety of my bed, each bringing forth a slightly different mood from the last. The first one is my trusty go-to, below the knee length dress. A simple black piece of material that's flattering for my figure without exposing my wild side. The second outfit is a basic black blazer, white dress shirt, and black dress pants—the bore of all boring clothing. Nothing wrong with it, but I'm not feeling really "plain and dull" tonight.

Now, the third option is one to behold.

A dress that is a combination between the two: a long sleeved, low cut, black dress with pretty lace for the left sleeve and solid material on the right that wraps over more lace underneath. The perfect mix of femininity and authority. I think I know which outfit is the one for me. 

Slipping into the warm material with ease, I grab my car keys and head out to meet Mrs. Park at the venue. The thought of sending Baekhyun a text crosses my mind while taking the elevator. Now that I think about it, I haven't heard from him all day. Where he at?? Is he still working late or did my comment about him never cooking a meal in his life hurt his feelings last night? If I wasn't piled up to my ears with paperwork all day I would have stopped by his office to have lunch…

Frowning to myself, I keep both my hands on the steering wheel, leaving my phone untouched in my purse on the passenger floor. Worried or not, I'm not even going to pull out my phone at the next red light. In a big city like Seoul, it's best not to take any chances, if any for that matter.

I navigate down the bright streets with ease, thankful that my GPS is cooperating with me today. Within an hour of traffic jams and watching out for jaywalkers on the street, I'm pulling into the parking lot of the venue. And with Mrs. Park leaning against the hood of her car, she isn't hard to find.

Making a three point turn, I back up into the parking space next to hers, not up for the hassle of dealing with gold digger assholes who will want me to hit them with my car later. Seoul or the South, the bullshitty ways of the road aren't that different.

"Hey," Mrs. Park smiles when I step out of my Porshe, dressed to the nines in her black pantsuit. She tilts her head towards the venue, the twinkle of her diamond earrings catching in the bright streetlights. "You ready to go?"

I walk around to her side to retrieve my purse from my car, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Yes, ma'am."

She smirks, a knowing look in her eye before locking her car. "Let's go."

Eyeing her warily, I follow her to the grand building, the clicks of our heels echoing across the pavement. For a moment the silence around us has me worrying if we are late until I see a red carpet surrounded by paparazzi in the far distance. What the hell?

"What exactly are we attending?" I ask carefully.

"A press conference," She doesn't miss a beat, glancing over at me. "Don't look so scared."

"I-"

"Smile," She continues, smiling reassuringly, "Just be yourself."

Sighing softly, I nod, preparing myself for anything. I trust Mrs. Park a lot, but if her cheeky son is anything to go by, I might be walking into something right now. And I have no idea what is awaiting me.

The clicks of the flashing cameras become more audible as we approach, a dozen cameramen throwing questions at us at once. I just smile, making sure all my sides are my best side while walking down the red carpet. Mrs. Park dodges their questions with ease, falling into step with me. We enter the open double doors of the venue without a hitch and the sight on the inside takes my breath away.

Floor to ceiling windows occupy the spacious hall with rows upon rows of velvet covered seats and a chandelier sparkling overhead. The stage at the far back has the first set of burgundy curtains drawn, showing a microphone stand. What kind of press conference is this? The amount of seating astounds me, let alone when Mrs. Park walks us right up to the front row.

I have so many questions to ask, but I just sit down in the seat at the end of the row, on the left side closest to the stairs leading up to the stage.

"Are we early?" I crane my neck around, watching other sharply dressed businessmen and women slowly fill up the venue.

"No." Mrs Park shakes her head as the lights dim down, smiling knowingly. "We're right on time."

Before I can reply, something shiny catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to face the stage, my eyes widening at the silver haired man walking out onto the stage.

"Good evening, everyone." Baekhyun's honey-smooth voice echoes around the hall. He struts over to the mic stand with a white microphone in hand, his Ceo aura and chosen outfit for the night taking my breath away.

He's wearing a sparkly black blazer with a black button-down shirt underneath, the first few buttons undone. The sleeves of his jacket have a glittery gold embroidery design shaped like a crown and there's a matching necklace resting around his shoulders, twinkling alluringly under the dim lights. His snug black jeans and heeled boots nearly have me on the floor. Pardon my French but—step on me please? 

I gulp, sitting back in my seat while Baekhyun commands the stage. He has the whole crowd wrapped around his finger with every charming smile and deep chuckle he sends our way. I graciously accept a glass of wine from a waiter and cross my legs, too busy admiring him to listen to a word he says. It's been a while since I've had the pleasure to see this kind of view.

Baekhyun continues to speak to the crowd, coaxing adoring 'ah's' and the occasional applause. I lose my sense of time the longer he gives his speech, idly swirling my drink around my glass. I've barely drank half of it by the time the event starts coming to an end.

"Everyone." Baekhyun's voice rings over the murmuring crowd, clasping his hands together over the microphone, a soft smile playing at his lips. "If I can have a moment of your time, I'd like to say a few things before we wrap up."

My eyes widen to the size of saucers when he says my name, holding a hand out for me to take. I look around, narrowing my eyes at Mrs. Park's smiling figure. The wink she sends my way tells me everything that I need to know.

Everyone else in the crowd starts looking around, some of them settling their eyes onto me. I take a final sip of my wine and slowly set my glass down in the cup holder next to me. With one last breath and a weary glance, I approach the stage, the clicks of my heels echoing around the room.

The closer I get to Baekhyun's beaming face, the more my heart pounds, butterflies erupting in my stomach. But the moment my cold hand is securely in his, all of it fades away. With Baekhyun, I know I am safe.

He smiles, looking me over with affection shining in his eyes. "Everyone, meet my girlfriend." He announces into the microphone, softly squeezing my hand and facing the crowd again. "She didn't expect to be here tonight..." He trails off, smiling sheepishly. "I'll probably be getting an earful later." He chuckles, joining everyone in their brief laughter while I shoot him a look that screams 'you're damn right.' "But for now," He continues, settling his sparkly brown eyes back onto me, "I have something important to say."

Baekhyun takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be standing here today." He squeezes my hand again, flickering his eyes back open to stare into mine. The warmth and undeniable love swirling within them sends my heart into overdrive. "If it wasn't for her patience, care and timeless, endless bounds of love." He sighs softly, smiling so sweetly while wrapping an arm around my waist before turning us both to the second set of curtains. "I wouldn't be here to present the newest clothing line."

The curtains go up and my jaw drops at the sight.

A huge glass container stands in the middle of the stage, showcasing mannequins wearing various articles of clothing. Soft looking blue sweaters, comfy jogging pants, black leggings with white embroidery flowers on the ends, and short jean shorts. There are over a dozen different clothes on display with the letter 'R' scripted on the front in beautiful cursive, but what really captures my attention is the red dress. Front and center. 

The backless, sleeveless burgundy mermaid dress covered in sparkly jewels from start to finish, twinkling prettily under the dim lights while spun around on its high-rise platform.

"This goes out to Riley." Baekhyun hugs me close, making me grateful that I'm facing away from the crowd when tears spring to my eyes. He smiles shyly while gazing at me with those warm brown eyes. "The woman of my dreams and love of my life."

I stare right back into those deep brown pools of love, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my chin from wobbling. Not able to take it anymore, I cup his glowy cheeks in my hands, pressing my lips to his.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) | ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓  P(2)

A/N: This was a mouthful, don’t mind me, I’m formatting the other 9k 😭💗

[maddiwrites]

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Pogues x OC, Eventually JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Changed my update schedule to two times a week (probably Sunday and Wednesdays) because three days was kind of overwhelming hahah. Again, thank you for all the wonderful reviews and feedback!! I appreciate every single one!!!

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Being shot at?

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3

The Pogues come over later to hang out like usual. No one mentions last night's party. I don't know whether its because they don't want to talk about it or we're pretending like it never happened. I'm fine with either.

I sit next to Kie who taps her fingers on a bongo and bobs her head to her own beat. Pope's shuffling a deck of cards to my right and JJ sips on another beer across from me. It's hard to concentrate on what they're talking about. I'm too busy locked in my own head, thinking about what Peterkin said - foster care - what life would be like if we were taken away. Would I ever see my friends again? Would John B and I be in the same foster home? The thought of being separated makes me sick.

"Look, I'm calling it off. All right?" John B pulls me out of my thoughts. JJ rolls his eyes at my brother and glances at me. "Peterkin said if we stay out of the marsh, she'll help us with DCS."

"And you believed her?" JJ asks. "An actual cop, John B. You believed a cop."

John B sighs. "All I gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a couple days, and she'll help me out. It doesn't help that your ass was the one shooting a gun."

Here we go.

"You know what I should have done? Just let Topper drown your ass."

"Topper was gonna drown me?"

"Sure looked like it."

"Funny," John B deadpans.

"Have you looked in a mirror?"

"Tell me some more. Come on." I can tell by the look on John B's face that he's getting annoyed. It's pinched and he keeps rolling his eyes.

JJ steps closer to him. "They always win, don't they, man? Kooks versus Pogues. They always, always win!" He turns around and punches one of the small volleyballs we have tied in a string like a decoration.

"Look, it's okay!" Kie tries to calm him down.

"No, it's not okay! It's not! They don't want us to go down into the marsh." JJ comes back. "That means there's something valuable down there, and you know it." He turns to me and points. "I know you do." Then he looks at Pope. "I know you do. And I understand why you don't wanna go. You're the golden boy. You got way too much to risk. And you -" He turns to Kie. "I mean, you're already rich as fuck anyway. Why would you bother? But you and me, and Marleigh, man, we got nothing to lose! We really don't all right?"

"JJ -" I sigh.

"And I know it didn't use to be that way for you -"

John B shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to talk about it!"

"So that's it?"

John B shoves past JJ. "Just get out of my way, bro."

"John B, listen to me. I have a plan." Well thats never good. "You got the key to Cameron's big boat right?"

"No," John B says, already knowing where JJ's head is at.

"There's scuba gear. We borrow that, and then we go down to the wreck this afternoon, and that is what's gonna save you, man. You don't see rich kids going into foster care, do you?"

Here's the thing about JJ. He can be really convincing, which is usually the reason he and I get into the most trouble. Because I always fall for what he's saying. He gives me hope when I don't think there is any. He can be surprisingly optimistic sometimes. And when he is, I fall for his charm and agree with everything he says. If he told me to jump off a bridge, I probably would.

When he looks at me, my lips tug upwards into a smile. This creates a domino effect, and soon the other Pogues get excited. John B looks at me, trying to look disapproving but I shrug in response. I mean, JJ's right. What do we have to lose?

                                                       ~ ~ ~

I light a match and ignite my gas stove to make myself lunch. A can of chicken noodle soup that's been in my food closet for who knows how long. John B left to grab the tanks from the Cameron's boat, so the rest of us are waiting here until he comes to pick us up.

"You're eating soup? Its like a hundred degrees outside." JJ walks into the kitchen and lifts himself up on the counter next to the stove.

I stir the liquid around with a wooden spoon and smirk. "Do you see any other edible food around here?" JJ chuckles at that. He knows better than anyone how horrible John B and I are at food shopping. "I meant to go to the store today but..." I sigh. "I've been busy."

JJ pauses, causing me to look up at him. He's usually so quick with his wit and humor. Something I admire and love about him. How he always manages to put a smile on my face with some dumb remark or a sarcastic reply. Only now he's staring at me with curiosity. "Are you okay?"

"You mean other than the impending doom that is foster care that's going to hit me and John B in the near future?" I say sarcastically. I turn the stove off and grab two bowls out of the cabinet behind JJ's head. He ducks for me and my waist presses against his thigh. I pour half the soup in each bowl and hand him one with a spoon.

"Yeah, I mean other than that," JJ says. I blow on the liquid on my spoon to cool it down. The steam that comes up from my bowl already makes me feel hot.

"I'm fine," I tell him.

He gives me a look that says he's doesn't believe me, but I ignore it and he doesn't press me on it. Truth is, I am fine. I just have a lot of my mind but I'm going to do my best not to let it ruin my summer. JJ got me excited again. He's promising an adventure and possibly a fortune. He's right. John B and I have nothing to lose. If we don't go on the marsh today, DCS will find another reason to snatch us. So why hold ourselves back?

"Mar, JJ, he's back!" Kie calls out to us from my yard.

JJ sips the last of his broth out of the bowl and I shovel in the last couple of scoops into my mouth. We throw the bowls in the sink and run to the dock where John B and the others are waiting for us.

Pope directs John B to the part of the marsh where we found the wreck. I sit next to Kie in the front of the boat. She's looking at the two tanks that John B was able to snag off the Cameron's boat. Her brows are furrowed in confusion as she studies the gear.

"This is empty," Kie says, looking up at my brother who stops the boat when we find the sunken Grady-White. "You took empty tanks?"

"I..." John B says slowly. He definitely didn't look at it before he took it.

"Okay, this one's a quarter full," Kie says, pulling the tank to her left closer to her. "Its enough for one of us."

"Love it when a plan comes together," I say sarcastically and pass a look to JJ who rolls his eyes.

"Does anybody know how to dive?" Kie asks.

I purse my lips and look around at my friends and brother. None of them speak up.

"Uh..."

"Anybody?" Kie asks.

"It's kind of a Kook sport," I say.

Pope raises his hand. "I...read about it."

"Great, Pope read about it so someone's gonna die," Kie says.

JJ walks towards us and picks up the mouth piece and shrugs his shoulders. "Look, you put the thing in your mouth and breathe. How hard could it be?"

Pope answers, "If you come up too fast, nitrogen gets into your blood, and you get the bends."

JJ glances between Pope and the rest of us. "Bends like..." JJ bends forward, purposely sticking his butt out, "bend over and..."

Pope cuts him off. "The bends kill you."

JJ snaps straight up. "Right."

I roll my eyes and stand up. "I'll do it."

"Uh, I don't think..." JJ starts to say but my brother cuts him off.

"No. I'll do it."

"What, why?" I turn to my brother and send him a glare.

"Because Pope just said it can kill you and you don't listen to instructions very well." My brother glares back at me. I roll my eyes. He does have a point and evidence to prove it. I usually follow my own gut and ignore others' directions. And because I don't want him to bring up past events, I decide not to fight him on it.

"He has a point," JJ says, earning a punch in the bicep from me. He looks at my brother. "You can dive. I'm cool with that."

"Since when can you dive?" Kie says not liking the idea any more than me.

He shrugs. "I'll do it. It's fine."

"Let me do some calculations real quick," Pope says as John B starts putting on the scuba gear.

"You serious?" JJ asks.

"That boat's about thirty feet down. Okay? So it'll take twenty five minutes at that depth. Twenty five. Which means you need to make your safety stop at about...ten feet."

Contrary to popular belief, I do the actual listening to instructions, I just don't always follow through. But I process everything Pope just said and think of a way to make this easier for John B.

I shimmy out of my jean shorts and pull my top over my head, leaving me in a purple and white striped bikini. Without saying anything, I jump into the water with my shirt.

"Uh..." Pope says, looking into the water where I just disappeared. "What was that about?"

"I don't know. But I liked it. A lot," JJ says, staring at the same spot. John B slaps the back JJ's head and glares daggers in his direction. JJ pretends to clear his throat and turns away from John B.  "Uh, so..."

Pope pretends to focus on his calculations again, not wanting to get caught by John B for staring at his sister too. "Yeah. Uh, when you uh, when you're down there, you look for the cargo hold. You stick this thing inside and twist and pull, okay?"

I guesstimate how deep ten feet is and tie my shirt around the chain attached to our anchor. I look one last time at the blurry image of the sunken boat and pull myself back up.

"Hey," I say to grab their attention. They all look at me. "I tied my T-shirt to the anchor chain about ten feet down. It's where you need to do your safety stop."

John B nods. "Cool."

I stay in the water, loving how the water feels around me like a protective blanket. I listen to Pope explain the important parts of diving. There's some kind of meter he has to pay attention to to keep track of time.

"Okay, how much do I need?" John B asks.

"Unclear," Pope answers. "Breathe as little as possible."

JJ slaps John B on the shoulder. "Zen. Think zen, you know?"

John B turns to the water, preparing to jump in next to me.  "Yeah. Got it."

"Hey," Pope says, stopping him. "If we get caught in the marsh, we're basically screwed, so better get a move on."

"No pressure or anything," I add.

"Copy that," John B says.

Kie approaches my brother and stands in front of him. She's really close to him, almost inches away from his face. Then she leans in and kisses his cheek slowly. Way more intimate than usual. My eyes widen in surprise and I look at Pope and JJ to see their reaction. They mirror mine.

"Diver down?" Kie says softly.

"Diver down." John B says just as softly.

"See ya, dude," JJ says.

John B jumps in the water and sinks down below me. I lay on my back in the water and bathe in the warmth of the sun above me. I even close my eyes, letting relaxation overcome me. I could probably sleep here if I wanted too.

"Shit, JJ," Pope curses, catching my attention.

"Guys, that's the police," Kie says.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," JJ says, glancing at me.

My eyes go wide with anxiety. I swim closer to the boat and look up at JJ. "JJ, they can't know I'm here. If they find me-"

"Hey, hey, hey. It's gonna be okay. They're not going to, just stay there."

I nod and press myself tighter against the boat.

"Just act freaking normal," Kie says through clenched teeth.

I can hear the sirens coming closer until I feel their boat bump against ours. I flinch against it and kick my feet faster to stay afloat. I look down at the water, but I can't see John B. My heart races at the thought of him running out of air.

"Evening," I hear one of the cops greet my friends.

"JJ, tie it off," Pope says.

"How you kids doing? You know the marsh is closed?" The officer asks them.

"No."

"No. Wow."

My friends play dumb. I look up, finding comfort in seeing JJ's long hair. I can tell he's trying hard not to look down at me.

"Why - why is it closed?" Pope asks.

"Well, we're conducting a search out here. Boat went down." The officer explains.

"Oh."

"See anything?"

"No." JJ purses his lips and shrugs.  

"No boats," Kie says. "No."

There's a pause and for a split second I think he's gonna call their bluff. But he doesn't. "Where are the other two kids you always hang with? The twins? They here?"

I bite my bottom lip hard in anticipation for what's to come. He knows we're here. He has to. I can tell by how suspicious he sounds. I look back down in the water, John B still invisible to me. I don't know how much time he has left, but he's definitely running out of it.

"They both had to work," I hear Kie answer.

"Hm," The officer hums. "I'm gonna check your little boat out."

Shit, shit, shit, shit. I look around for a place to hide, but the only thing surrounding me is water. I'm going to have to go under.

"Yeah." JJ coughs, risking one last look at me before pretending to help the officer into the boat. "Yeah, hop aboard."

I push myself under the water and swim directly underneath the boat. I open my eyes, ignoring the sting of the salt water. I can see John B's silhouette by my T-shirt and the blurry light of his timer.

Thirty more seconds pass. I swing my arms upwards, pushing myself deeper into the water. The shadow of the cops' boat is still next to ours. My lungs are screaming at me for for air like they're tearing into my chest. Just like John B, I don't know how long I'm going to be able to last down here.

My body reactively gulps for air, forcing myself to swallow the salt water. It feels like a stab in my chest, my throat on fire. I've got to pop back up to the surface or I'm going to drown.

Just as I'm about to reveal myself, the shadow of the boat drives off. I push myself up, coughing up the water I swallowed and gasping for air. Less than a second later, John B pops up next to me.

"Oh, god! Jesus Christ," Kie says with her eyes closed and her head looking up.

"Don't scare us like that!" Pope says.

JJ watches me instead of John B, concern laced into his features. As I feel my heart go back to its normal pace, I smile at him and laugh the anxiety off. "You good?" He asks me. I nod and let him help me back up to the boat. "How'd it go down there?" He asks my brother. "Did you find anything?"

"Did I find anything?" John B scoffs and holds up a dark velvet bag.

"Yeah, there we go!" JJ claps his shoulders. "That's my boy!"

"Jeez, dude," Pope sighs.

"You okay?" Kie asks John B.

John B pants as he swims closer to the boat. "Yeah, I ran out of air."

"You and me both," I tell him.

John B pulls himself up. When he stands, he's met face to face with Kie who shoves him back playfully. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Yeah, the cops were up here, but, uh...we took care of 'em." Pope says, trying to act like he wasn't going to piss his pants the entire time he was talking to them.

"My bad," John B laughs.

"You're all good."

"Yeah, you kinda missed the show, brother," JJ says.

I move to the back of the boat to ring my wet hair out when something catches me eye. Its another boat, but it doesn't look like the one the cops were just using.

"Hey, guys? Guys!" I call louder to grab their attention. "Bogey, two o'clock."

"What?" JJ comes up next to me and eyes the boat that's making its way closer to us.

"Do you recognize the boat?" Pope asks.

"I've never seen it," I answer.

A bad feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I can make out two people, I think men, standing in the front. They keep their eyes straight on us. No laughing or talking like a couple of buds would on a boat day in the marsh.

"What are they doing here? The marsh is closed," Kie says.

"Let's not stick around and find out." JJ places his hands on my bare waist and pulls me to the side so he can pull up the anchor.

"JJ get the bowline," John B says, not realizing that JJ was already on it.

"Yeah."

"Should we wait on 'em?" Pope asks.

"No. No. We should leave now. Right now," Kie says, looking directly at John B.

"Go get the stern," John B tells me. "Go!"

I kneel next to JJ and help him. Similar to how I felt in the water, my heart beats violently against my chest and my breathing becomes static. I try not to think of the fear that creeps through my veins as I help release the boat from it's hold in the marsh.

"Guys, don't wait for us! Go!" JJ yells.

"Go!" Kie says.

"Pull out the stern!" Pope yells at us.

I yank the chain hard, revealing the slimy anchor covered in seaweed and moss.

"I don't like this," I mutter to JJ between clenched teeth.

John B pulls away from the wreck. JJ looks between me and the boat that still driving in our direction. "Are they coming for us?"

"Maybe they're fishing," Pope says.

"Go, go, go, go!"

"Go into the marsh," I tell my brother, constantly glancing between him and the other boat.

"Let's go," Kie says. I can hear fear creep into her voice and her hands shake around the drivers seat she's holding with a death grip.

"I'm going. Act natural!" John B hisses and revs the engine of the boat.

He takes a left turn into the marsh. I watch anxiously for the people in the other boat to make its move.

They turn left.

"Guys, they're following us!" Kie says.

"This can't be good," Pope says.

"Dude, you gotta go faster!" JJ says.

"I'm going!" John B yells back.

"Gun it!"

I look behind the boat. They're getting closer. Too close. Can't say I'm surprised. The HMS Pogue is no match for their boat that looks more expensive than my house. However, something catches my eye. Something long the guy in the passenger seat is holding and pointing right at us.

"Is that..." I mutter before I'm cut off by exactly what I was going to say.

The gun shot rings through my ears as if the person who shot it was standing next to me. Before I can react, JJ pulls me down to the floor of our boat by my waist and covers me with his own body. I gotta say, this isn't how I pictured him being on top of me. His left arm outlines my head, keeping me face down while other bullets pass our boat. The cries of my friends are dull through the blood pounding in my ears and my heart inching its way up my throat.

"Holy shit!" Kie shouts.

"John B, get down!" JJ yells.

I try looking up at my brother but JJ's hold is strong. John B's still behind the wheel, trying his best to duck from bullets without crashing the boat.

"We're gonna die!" Pope yells.

I try looking around the boat for anything we can use against these guys. Of course JJ decides to leave the gun he stole at my house for the day, leaving us practically useless against these two strangers.

My eyes find a net pooling in front of Kie's face as she keeps her head down. I try crawling out of JJ's embrace which only makes him tighten his arms around me.

"Kie!" I shout. She looks up at me with wide eyes. "The net!"

Immediately she understands what I'm trying to tell her. She pulls herself away from Pope and army crawls to the wide net. This only makes my friends yell at her, telling her to get down, but she doesn't listen.

"Get down, Kie!" John B shouts.

Another gun shot echoes through the air, making me flinch closer into JJ.

Kie throws the net overboard towards their boat and drops back down to her knees. The sound of the other boat's engine clanging against the net gets my head to perk up and I watch Kie's reaction. She's surprisingly smiling. When she looks at me, she lets out a breathy laugh and shakes her head in disbelief because that just worked. Their boats gets stuck.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go," Pope says.

One last gun shot rings through my ears before we make our getaway.  I pull myself off the floor and look back at the boat one last time. We severely underestimated how important finding that boat was. Whatever John B found was worth killing us for.

A couple minutes later, John B pulls the boat up to the Chateau and docks it by the wooden slacks that I used as a bed last night. My friends cheer and actually smile after what just happened.

"That was insane!" Kie says.

"Whoo!"

I look at my brother with adrenaline rushing straight to me head. I feel giddy about finding out what JB found - what must be so important. "What do you think it is?"

"Gotta be money, right?" He asks, looking at me.

"That or a couple of keys with street value to the low-to-mid-mills," JJ says, leisurely danglingly his arm around my shoulders.

"Can we please just open the bag?" Pope says loudly, forcing everyone's attention at him who now looks at us sheepishly.

"Wow, Pope," John B laughs. "That's a rare outburst of emotion."

"Okay, you guys are literally killing me with anticipation," He says. "Open the bag!"

"Jeez." JJ whistles.

"We almost died over this," Pope says like its an explanation. But he's right. We did almost die for this, which is why I need to know what's in it now.

John B opens the velvet bag. Something heavier than money falls out of it with a thunk. Its round and metal. Dirty and dented. Physically ugly and maybe priceless, but it looks familiar. I narrow my eyes at it, trying to study it and rack my brain through where I've seen it before.

"Oh, wow. Yup. That's about right," Pope sighs at the sight of our treasure. "Good job, everybody. We found a compass."

The word compass hits me like a train and my body goes slack like my limbs just turned into jell-o. John B is already looking at me, shocked at the real meaning of what we just found. I push myself in front of JJ and look down at the object he's holding. Priceless maybe true to the others but not to me. Not to John B. This means everything.

JJ looks between John B and I and laughs nervously at our reactions. "Dude, what? It's not worth anything."

My brows furrow together in confusion as I try to wrap my head around how we just found our dad's possession on another man's boat. A dead man's boat. But I feel blank. Like someone just wiped all my thoughts and memories.

"This was our father's compass," I say emotionless, keeping my eyes on JB who looks equally as terrified.

Tag List: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz  @jeeperky​ @realistic-breadstick  @moniamaybank  @urbinoutfiters​ @brebear121​  @x-lulu​

[obwjam]

the tiniest jedi

okay folks, here we go... i’d like to introduce you all to my oc, Jedi Knight Jayla Nor’al! she is five inches tall, 22 years old and the former padawan of good ol’ yoda. she was knighted so she could fight in the clone wars, and now she’s off to help command her first-ever battalion! 

when i rewatched clone wars recently i basically took note of episodes where a tiny could fit into the plot (spoiler: there’s a lot lol) so this is part 1 of the first installment of me recreating the filoniverse into the obwjamverse

i hope y’all enjoy <3 love you all sm

the hidden enemy, part 1

>> part two

To say Jedi Knight Jayla Nor’al was nervous would be a tremendous understatement.

It had taken a lot of convincing that bordered on begging to get the council to agree to this. Having Anakin vouch for her seemed like a good idea in theory, but in practice it usually ended with Obi-Wan rubbing his eyes while the council fiercely debated the merits of Anakin’s argument. 

Anakin was always sticking up for her. She was a few years older than he was, but more than anyone, he understood what it was like to have a tough life. They first met one day when he was a padawan, no more than 13 years old. Obi-Wan was sent off on a mission by himself to retrieve a holocron and a disgruntled Anakin went to Yoda to continue his training. He was far more advanced than the group of younglings he was with, but before he could complain too much, something -- no, someone -- caught his eye.

She was standing on a table at all of five inches tall, arms crossed in a dim corner of the room. The other younglings were practicing basic combat stances. She looked rather bored with it all. Anakin would have probably glossed right over her if it wasn’t for the tunic she was wearing.

“Master Yoda, who is that?” Anakin asked while the group was taking a break. She had now sat down, cross-legged, with her eyes closed and her shoulders relaxed. He marveled at how her tiny silhouette almost blended in with the scenery entirely.

“My padawan, she is,” Yoda stated. 

“Padawan?” Anakin was shocked. Obi-Wan never told him Yoda had a padawan.

Yoda hummed. “Surprised, you are, hmm?”

Anakin could only nod as Yoda trotted over to her. “Well, it’s… she’s…”

“Padawan Nor’al, ready, you are?” he asked quietly. Anakin gasped at how Yoda practically towered over this tiny person. She calmly opened her eyes and gave a single nod.

“Younglings, gather here,” Yoda called out to the group. He nodded to Anakin, who curiously followed. He heard a couple of the other younglings snicker in disbelief. “Demonstrate Form III, my padawan will. Close attention to footwork, you must pay.”

Anakin’s eyes widened as a training remote whirred to life. To a normal-sized person, practicing with a remote could sting if you didn’t know know what you were doing. But she was not a normal-sized person. That remote must look like a tank to her!

“Master Yoda--” Anakin started, but Yoda held his hand up.

“You may begin.”

What Anakin witnessed next may or may not have changed his life. 

It was like she knew where the blasts were going before they were even fired. She was so quick that Anakin’s eyes could barely adjust to the blinding speed she seemed to be moving at. She firmly stood her ground as she deflected blast after blast, her eyes moving wildly as she deciphered the shooting pattern of the remote. She found her opening, charged forward, leaped up and sunk her lightsaber straight through the metal. The droid sputtered and sparked before falling to the table, lifeless. She hopped down and gave Yoda a small bow as if nothing had even happened.

“Thank you, padawan. Continue to practice, younglings. Much work to do, you have.”

Still in shock, the younglings picked up their sabers and began to practice, some yelping in surprise when the blasts stung at their legs. She had made it look so easy.

She was taking note of the younglings’ form when she paused to raise her eyebrow. Anakin was still standing there.

“Staring is rude,” she said shortly. Looking at her up close, Anakin could clearly see how she was nervously eyeing him.

“That was really cool,” he said, crouching down a bit so he didn’t loom too large. 

She gave a small smirk. “Master Yoda is a good teacher.”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Jayla... Jayla Nor’al,” she said, giving Anakin heavy side-eye. What does he want?

“My name’s Anakin. I’m Master Kenobi’s padawan.”

“Anakin Skywalker?” she asked incredulously. “What -- what are you doing here?”

“My master is on a mission and didn’t want to take me.” 

She scoffed. “That’s silly. Padawans should always be with their masters to learn.”

“Tell that to Obi-Wan,” Anakin sighed. “Does Master Yoda take you on missions with him?”

Anakin’s lips pursed into a frown as she sat down, looking dejected. “Mostly, yeah. But sometimes I think he thinks I’m too… well… you know.”

“Too small.”

She gave him a surprised look. “Yeah.”

“A little ironic, coming from him.”

Jayla laughed. “You can’t say that!”

Anakin laughed back. “Sure I can.”

It was hard for Jayla to really grow close to anyone, no matter how hard she tried to befriend the others. Anakin knew exactly how that felt. The two were lonely, and they found each other. Their friendship only grew stronger as they got older -- Jayla helped Anakin learn to trust in the Force more and Anakin helped Jayla grow her confidence. Obi-Wan admired how well they complimented each other.

Yoda eventually began to take Jayla on more dangerous missions. Spending time with Anakin and Obi-Wan had diversified her skill set more than most padawans and, as the Jedi Council sensed the growing discourse between the light and the dark, Jayla and Anakin were both knighted so they could fight in the Clone War.

But everyone had underestimated the fierceness and enormity of the conflict.

It was evident from the beginning of her training that Jayla was fearless -- that she would not let her size stop her from doing anything. She was a fierce negotiator; a skilled fighter; she had a deep and powerful connection to the Force. And yet, her size was the very thing stopping the council from giving her any responsibilities outside of putting together training recordings, teaching younglings and spearheading negotiations.

“I can’t believe this,” Jayla groaned to Obi-Wan one rare quiet day on Coruscant. Anakin was off on a recon mission. Obi-Wan had duties to attend to, but he would always take a pause to talk with Jayla.

“If Master Yoda and the council feel this is for the best, then you need to listen.”

“I didn’t become a Jedi to play it safe. I just… I don’t understand why Yoda keeps babying me.”

“You’ve only recently become a Jedi knight,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “You need to be patient.”

“Yeah, the council did that so I could fight in the war.” Jayla got up, pacing around the windowsill. “I mean, it doesn’t make sense! I’m trained in combat. I have useful skills. I’ve been out there before, Obi-Wan! Why spend my entire life telling me ‘size matters not, hmm’, then use it as a reason to hold me back?”

Obi-Wan frowned. He hated how her frame seemed to get swallowed up by the bustling backdrop of the Republic captial outside.

“Can I be honest?” Obi-Wan asked slowly. Jayla’s expression softened as she plopped down, resting her elbows on her knees and meeting Obi-Wan’s gaze a few feet from her. 

“Always.” 

“Well, I shouldn’t really tell you this, but I think it’s important that you know. The council has its reservations, but they mostly agree that you are more than capable of being a general. It’s… it’s the Chancellor who has persuaded them into keeping you here.”

“The Chancellor? Why would he care?”

“It’s my understanding that many in the senate feel it would be a sign of weakness if you were to command a battalion.”

“That’s ridiculous! It’s not even the senate’s decision to make!” she cried.

“On military matters, it is. And until Chancellor Palpatine changes his mind, then I’m afraid there’s nothing that can be done.”

Jayla tried to forget about that conversation every time she got upset. But as the conflict raged on and Republic forces took beating after beating on the Outer Rim worlds, Obi-Wan felt the situation was becoming dire. It was less about who had strength and more about who had the tactical advantage. The better strategy. The better intelligence. 

Yoda too felt desperate. He was engulfed in the war and convinced that winning it was the only way to save the galaxy from certain doom. He heard the plight of his former padawan day after day, to the point where he began to question if his gut feeling was really right. He hadn’t been meditating as much lately. The Force always gave him the guidance he needed. Between Anakin, Obi-Wan and her own former master, the council was able to convince Palpatine that allowing her to lead stealth and recon missions was a perfectly reasonable starting point.

Since it was nearly impossible to plant a conventional spy into the droid army, Jalya and Anakin had conspired and came up with the idea of using her as a spy. Mace Windu was concerned about her being captured. Anakin argued that her life sign registered so faintly on scanners that capture wasn’t as easy as it seemed. Ki-Adi-Mundi feared she would get lost in the blur of so much violence. Obi-Wan said that all she needed was a wrist comm and someone to use as transportation and protection.

So after months of debating, planning, talking to Yoda and gear-building, the perfect situation had arisen. Today, it was finally going to happen.

And she… didn’t know how to feel.

She was accompanying Anakin and Obi-Wan on the Resolute to Christophsis, where the GAR was getting whalloped day after day. Most recently, a secret plan was thwarted before it had even gotten underway. It was obvious that the Separatists were somehow accessing Republic intelligence. And it was Jayla’s job to find out how.

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

From the comfort and privacy of sleeping quarters, she was perched pensively on Anakin’s shoulder; which, in retrospect, was probably a bad place to be with the way she was fiddling with her hands and bouncing her leg. 

“Don’t ask me that when you already know the answer,” Jayla mumbled. 

“I didn’t, actually, but thanks for confirming it for me.”

Jayla groaned. “I’m not nervous about going into the field.”

“Good. You shouldn’t be.”

“It’s…” she started, but couldn’t bring herself to admit. She was hoping Anakin could connect the dots.

“It’s… what? It’s the ship?” Anakin knew how much she hated flying.

“This isn’t my first Star Destroyer. It’s the starfighters that make me sick.”

“Okay, so it’s not the ship. Is it Obi-Wan?”

Jayla sniffed a laugh. “Why would it be Obi-Wan?”

“Well, it took a little bit of convincing to get him to agree to this.”

“You mean a lot of convincing,” she sighed. “I can personally guarantee you that Obi-Wan is not making me nervous.”

“Well, Tiny, I’m at a loss--” 

Anakin was cut off at the sound of his wrist comm beeping. She quickly grabbed onto a stray piece of his hair for support as he moved his arm up.

“Anakin, Jayla, come meet me at the bridge. Captain Rex will be arriving here shortly.”

“Copy that.” Anakin turned his head slightly to meet Jayla’s gaze, and the Force flashed in a brief moment of worry. Anakin furrowed his brows.

“You’re nervous about Rex?”

Jayla sucked in a deep breath. “No -- not particularly -- no. No, I’m not nervous about Rex.”

Anakin knew she was lying, but he wasn’t about to push it. After all, he didn’t want Obi-Wan lecturing him for being late. Again.

Jayla clung to Anakin’s robe as they made their way through the gray halls of the ship. Even from her perspective, the walls seemed suffocating, so Jayla kept her eyes trained on the ground, avoiding the gaze of every trooper that passed. The rigidness of clone armor was… off-putting.

As they approached the bridge doors, Jayla cautiously took a seat and closed her eyes. When all else failed, the Force was always there for her, guiding her and bringing her to a place where she felt at ease. Going into this mission with any apprehension would be fatal, and she knew it. The Force was pulling her toward the battlefield -- to Anakin, to Obi-Wan, to the citizens of the worlds they were helping to protect. The Jedi Order was her life, and that meant she was forever in service to the people of the galaxy that needed her. She was chosen by the will of the Force; bestowed this great power that so many lusted after. In the galaxy’s biggest conflict, she could finally start making a difference. She could finally be worthy of the gift she was given.

“There’s gonna be a lot of clones in there, you know.” Anakin’s tongue-in-cheek remark broke her from her meditation. “You could always turn back and let me and Obi-Wan handle this.”

Jayla sniffed a laugh. “And let you have all the fun? I’m alright, Anakin, I promise.” She paused, took one glance up at her giant friend, and stood up. “I’m ready for this.”

Anakin smirked. “Well then, here we go.”

The vastness and buzzing energy of the bridge brought about a sensation that Jayla would never get tired of. There were clones on the lower levels punching buttons and pulling levers; there were clones standing around tables, going over strategy and making sure they were ready for the fight. Then there was Obi-Wan, standing in front of a star map and pretending to read it. His mind was occupied with other things.

Anakin nodded his head to Obi-Wan. “Master.”

“Ah, Anakin. And here I thought you’d show up late.”

“For Tiny’s first mission as a general? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Is now really the best time to bring up nicknames?” Jayla groaned. It was times like these she was glad she was small; nobody could see her blush.

“I thought it’d help loosen the tension.”

“Sure you did.” She wasn’t going to admit it, but in his weird Skywalker way, it did help bring her back down to earth. This was her first mission as a military general. She outranked nearly everyone in the room. To the clones, that meant everything. Even if they didn’t want to listen to her… they had to.

It was then she noticed a tiny brown bag on the holotable below. Just poking out of the side was something that looked like armor. 

Armor fit for a tiny.

She slid off Anakin’s shoulder and flipped down to the holotable. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but grin as she pulled out two shoulder pads, two wrist guards, a pair of black gloves and a torso pad. They fit perfectly.

“We couldn’t have you going out in the field unprepared,” Obi-Wan said as she practiced some stances in her new armor.

“Huh. You look like a tiny Obi-Wan,” Anakin smiled.

“I thought we were done with the degrading comments,” you said smugly.

“Oh, very funny, you two. It’s a wonder the council took this long to allow you both to work together.”

Jayla was prepared for another quip when the main door slid open. Her eyes first fell on the wide shoulder wing, then to the Jaig eyes painted on his helmet. She had never seen clone armor quite like what Rex was wearing. She blinked and straightened her posture.

“Captain Rex. Nice of you to finally join us,” Anakin joked.

“Sorry sir. Needed to help Fives find his other blaster.”

“He lost it again?”

“...more like misplaced,” Rex clarified.

“Good to see your troops are on top of things, Anakin,” Obi-Wan quipped.

“Sorry sir,” Rex repeated. Jayla could sense… unease. “So, where’s the new general?”

Anakin’s lips curled into a smile. He had told Rex that the 501st was to be accompanied on this mission by a Jedi knight who was a master of stealth. When Rex asked who it was, Anakin refused to say. He wanted it to be a surprise.

“Rex, I’d like you to meet Jedi General Jayla Nor’al.”

Rex was glad he had kept his helmet on, because the look of confusion on his face would not have done him any more favors. 

“Uh… sir?” Rex asked cautiously, trying his best not to sound too lost. Is this some kind of joke?

“You know, I think it’s helpful to scan the entire room before saying something.”

Rex’s stomach dropped. That voice… that voice was coming from the holotable. Ever so slowly, he tilted his head down. He tried to keep his body language as neutral as possible, but he had a sinking feeling that all three Jedi in the room could sense his surprise.

“Oh,” was all Rex could utter for a moment. It was like this Jedi had stepped right out of a holoprojector and onto the table in front of him. This has to be some kind of test. She’s only a few inches tall! She won’t survive five seconds out on the battlefield. 

Anakin cleared his throat. Rex snapped back to attention.

“Right. Uh, sorry about that, sir,” Rex fumbled, giving this General Nor’al a nod of acknowledgment. “Nice… nice to meet you.”

Rex tensed up when Jayla ever so slightly rolled her eyes. He was surprised he could even see her do that.

“Likewise, Captain. General Skywalker has told me all about you.” She smiled softly when she sensed Rex’s heartbeat escalating. “All good things, of course.” 

She turned to Obi-Wan and, without either of them saying a word, Obi-Wan placed his hand next to Jayla and she casually stepped on, using his thumb for support as she was lifted up from the holotable.

“You’re going to be offering General Nor’al support in the field,” Obi-Wan said, tapping the holotable to life. “We’ve drawn up a plan to get her to the chief tactical droid stationed here to extract information and battle strategy.”

“I think we can finally turn the tide if we can get ahead of the Seps like they seem to keep getting ahead of us,” Jayla added. “Once I get the information, I’ll need an extraction team to get me out of there quickly.” Without warning, her tone shifted from stern to somber. “The last thing I need is to be caught by those stupid battle droids.”

Obi-Wan and Anakin exchanged a brief glance.

“I’ve got to finish some mission prep,” she said quickly. “When are we getting to Christophsis?”

“Should be there within the hour, sir,” Rex replied immediately. 

“Great.” She tried to peer through Rex’s helmet, but unsurprisingly, she only had the downturned expression plastered on the front to work with. Rex was not expecting to see a five-inch-tall Jedi -- that much was obvious. Her worry lied more in the possibility that she was embarrassing him just by being here. 

“I’m sure Anakin will become bored and come join us in, oh, five minutes or so,” Obi-Wan cut into her thoughts with a smug smile, throwing a glance to his friend as he walked out.

“For mission prep? You know me so well,” Anakin shot back with a smirk, turning back to the window. 

Before Obi-Wan left the room, he turned to Rex, who was all but frozen to his spot.

“Do come and join us when you’re done here,” he said shortly. Rex could only nod.

Once the doors finally closed behind him, he stiffly made his way to Anakin’s side and took off his helmet.

“Rex…” Anakin sighed, already prepared for the conversation they were about to have.

“Sir, you know I mean no disrespect…” Rex paused to see if Anakin would say something witty to that. He didn’t. “...but I’m not sure how well my men are going to respond to taking orders from someone who can fit in the palm of their hand. Especially someone who hasn’t done this before.”

“Rex, she’s a Jedi knight, just like me. She wouldn’t have achieved that rank if she wasn’t fully capable.”

“I--I believe you, General. It’s just… well, they’re used to the way things work. We’re used to a Jedi leading us through battle.”

“And she can’t do that?”

“Well, it’s not like she can cut through clankers like you or General Kenobi.”

Anakin was prepared for this, but it still didn’t change the awkwardness of the conversation. He knew how fierce of a Jedi she was. Rex didn’t. He was hoping this mission could change things. He knew as well as anyone else that a warrior of her size would wreak havoc against the Separatists if used properly. Plus, he knew how painfully boring it was to be stuck inside the temple all the time. He wanted this to work for her.

“Her strengths lie in other areas. She doesn’t need to cut through droids like me and Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, putting his hand on Rex’s shoulder. “Given the world she’s grown up in… the things she’s had to overcome… I’d say she’s the bravest out of all of us.”

Rex hummed and turned his gaze to the front of the ship. He never really grew tired of the swirling brilliant blue of hyperspace. He found himself wondering if it looked any different five inches off the ground.

“...I should go brief the men,” Rex said finally. 

“Yeah,” Anakin said, pursing his lips. “You probably should.”

[rinzis]

writing about my new genshin oc??? okay?????okay!!!!!! i’m on mobile so i can’t add the read more option i’m so sorry

—

details

—

name: kiyoharu misa

birthday: august 3rd

sex/pronouns: female, she/her

region: inazuma

constellation: lunam lilia

vision: electro

weapon: sword

rarity: 5*

title: princess of the kiyoharu household, moonlit swordsmaiden (unofficial)

affiliation: kiyoharu clan, the resistance

—

synopsis

—

the princess of the fallen household kiyoharu. she carries a patterned umbrella which she is seldom seen without, and within which lies her precious katana. a gentle yet influential soul, she is well known for her impressive swordsmanship throughout the resistance in inazuma.

—

character story

—

character details

at first glance, people might not think that kiyoharu misa was anything special. seeing a young woman strolling through the land of inazuma carrying an intricate paper umbrella would not faze anyone. but, under this delicate guise, misa conceals both her dear katana and her vision.

the princess of the kiyoharu household is known to be a gentle soul who yearns for freedom from the raiden shogun and the tenryou commission. since her childhood, she has always been fascinated by the moon and its rays, a particular trait of kiyoharu descendants. misa earned herself the title of ‘moonlit swordsmaiden’ after combining her unparalleled swordsmanship with her illuminated vision.

story 1

the kiyoharu clan was once a widely respected and loved clan across inazuma. the household was known for its tendency to produce talented swordsmen who earn themselves visions through selflessness and helping others, and for this reason they were seen as high nobility. however, members of the kiyoharu household were reluctant in hiring many maids or servants - they believe that if one can be capable of harnessing the power gifted by gods through blade alone, one should also be able to cook a simple meal, or wash their own clothing. through this doctrine the kiyoharu descendants earned themselves unwavering respect from all citizens of inazuma, and even the raiden shogun herself - for a while.

story 2

descendants such as misa are taught from a young age to honour their ancestors, but also those who currently serve inazuma as well. misa excelled in swordsmanship, being able to wield a blade so gracefully to the point where it appeared as though she was dancing, using it as simply an accessory. the leader of the clan gifted to her a delicate paper umbrella, and he spoke to her these words: “do not mistake kindness for weakness. from dainty petals drip deadly poisons.”, and with that, misa understood her duty. she would protect the citizens of inazuma with her life, with her dainty umbrella and deadly blade at her side. she is seldom seen without either.

story 3

the kiyoharu clan were known best for the number of descendants who possess visions. thus, when the vision hunt decree was issued, the tenryou commission sought out every member of the household owning a vision. misa’s family would rather have died than hand over their precious visions. despite their unyielding fighting spirit, the kiyoharu household was overcome by the sheer numbers in the tenryo commission. there were supposedly no survivors, but it just so happened that the young kiyoharu misa was dispatched on a mission on behalf of the household the day it fell. the young swordsmaiden returned to her home in ruins, her whole life taken from her. she knew at that moment that as the sole descendant of the kiyoharu household, she would avenge her clan and return lost visions to those who suffer at the hands of the tenryo commission.

story 4

misa met all sorts of people on her journey through inazuma as a vision-bearing fighter, the most notable of all being the ronin kaedehara kazuha. she used to live a life of solitude in a small house near the edge of the islands of inazuma, but this life of solitude was changed upon seeing the rain-soaked samurai appear at her doorstep one evening. seeing each other’s visions, misa realised that kazuha was not a threat at all. the days they spent together inspired misa to venture out, to find the resistance in inazuma alongside the swordsman and reclaim justice for the fallen. and so, she left yet another life behind to travel with kazuha through inazuma in search of everything and nothing at all. nights of listening to the ronin’s musings and conversing under the moonlight unknowingly planted a blossom in misa’s heart, one which would remain there forever.

story 5

misa and kazuha’s travels took them all across inazuma. despite them both being wanted for their visions, the tenryo commission’s lackeys and treasure hoarders were no match for the pair’s skill in bladework. misa secretly yearned day after day for any sign of affection or mutuality from the young samurai, but as the princess of a famed clan she chose to remain composed and calm about the whole ordeal. however, when the ronin told the princess of his plan to leave inazuma with the crux fleet, he explained that he did not want to take this life from her. he confessed that his musings and haikus about the heart and its desires he so often shared with her were about her, and that his own heart would belong eternally to her. thus, he left her with a simple promise. “the wind will bring us together once again, misa. i will return home to you, and then will i forever devote myself to you. this i promise, my princess.”

the kiyoharu sword dance

those who have witnessed kiyoharu misa in battle often note how she appears more to be dancing than harshly fighting. the kiyoharu household drew its strength and style in battle from the moon and its light, and they channeled this into their blades during battle. misa’s god given agility combined with this graceful power leads ultimately to her captivating swordsmanship. with the electro imbued in her blade, misa is all too capable in taking down foes with ease. in the night hours, a stroll down to a clearing or open beach may lead you to find the princess honing her blade under the silver of the moon, with a sword that never sleeps. she is renowned throughout the resistance as one of the most talented swordswomen in inazuma.

the vision

misa was granted her vision during a particularly dangerous incident during her early training years. one fateful evening, she was out with other kiyoharu swordsmen, practicing her skills with her blade in the open country.

“lady misa, please remain here while we briefly survey the area. we have had reports of active treasure hoarders roaming this area, and we would hate for anything to happen to you at this time. we will be back shortly.”

and so, they left her on the path to scout the surrounding land. clutching the hilt of her sword, the very thought of being ambushed by grown men with malicious intentions worried misa, especially since she hadn’t obtained a vision yet. but alas, how wrong her fellow swordsmen were.

“well, what do we have here? the prestigious kiyoharu misa, is it? count ourselves lucky boys, it’s just the one we were after.”, drawled the advancing treasure hoarders.

her hands trembled on her sword. how could she possible deter these twenty, no, thirty treasure hoarders alone? glancing down at her sheathed blade, misa wondered if she’d see her family again.

no, why was she thinking like this?

steady yourself, misa. focus on your breathing. the dance will go on. your blade does not rest.

she draws her sword.

to the young swordsmaiden’s surprise, a new energy unlike anything she had witnessed before struck her senses. and so she danced, her blade piercing the air and with it bringing down the treasure hoarders in quick succession. but she could only go on for so long.

panting, misa retreated towards the edge of the river. the men relentlessly kept on coming, and she knew she was almost completely spent. her legs and hands quivered, and her mind raced with prayers to the goddess baal. with a small breath, she spoke these words:

“archons, guide me. i beg, lend me your strength.”

a faint crackling filled the air, before a tremendous burst of silver lightning struck the ground before her. the sword in her hands glowed a pale purple, and it was then that she realised the archons had answered her prayers. wielding this newfound power, she swung her blade with a new fervour.

twenty, no, thirty treasure hoarders lay at the princess of the kiyoharu household’s feet. the chime of a small ornament hitting the ground was the only sound after the crackling died down. at long last, kiyoharu misa’s vision had been granted to her by the gods. holding the electro vision in her hands, she whispered these words:

“the dance will go on.”

—

voice lines

—

hello

“i’m kiyoharu misa, nice to meet you! l-lady misa? oh no, please — there’s really no need for the formalities. i’m just as ordinary as you are. say, how about we travel together for a while? i’m sure your stories are bound to keep me entertained on our arduous journeys.”

chat: urgency

“a storm is brewing… let’s keep moving.”

chat: resting

“you’d like to rest? alright, want to share a quick meal?”

chat: sword

“i should really polish my sword soon…”

when it rains

“my my, it seems the heavens really have opened. let’s find shelter quickly, i’d hate to continue travelling in this weather.”

after the rain

“the lingering scent of the rain is one of my most favourite smells… for me, it heralds a fresh start. well, come on then! shall we head off?”

when it snows

“hmm… i really do enjoy the snow. especially when the moonlight casts a glimmering sheen over the world, enveloping inazuma in a soft silver. i hope we can witness it together sometime.”

when the wind is blowing

“i have a friend who adores the wind. he left some time ago, but i know he will return home to me one day. sometimes i wonder if i can hear his voice catching on the breeze, lines of poetry drifting along with it. hey, don’t give me that look! we’re just… uh… friends...”

good morning

“[sigh] i’m really not much of a morning person. i’m certainly not on my best form in the late morning hours… oh, you’re ready to leave already? r-right, i’ll be ready as soon as possible!”

good afternoon

“hmm, i’m feeling a little hungry… would you like to grab a bite to eat? no, it’s alright - there are inns up ahead that know the resistance. we’ll be just fine. and, if not, we have our blades. heh.”

good evening

“the setting sun is particularly pretty this evening. once the storm has fully settled, i hope to see the true beauty of the inazuman skies once again. i will see that vision to the end.”

good night

“you’re heading to sleep? alright, sleep well. me? well… the moon is my friend, i suppose. a little sword dance under its light helps me retain my focus. i won’t be too long, don’t worry.”

about kiyoharu misa

“my umbrella? oh, it was a gift from the leader of the kiyoharu household when i was born. i had it altered to accommodate the length and width of my sword - see? though it appears to be but a dainty paper umbrella, what lies within is a retribution sentence. it is my will given form.”

about us: kiyoharu origin

“my title as princess of the kiyoharu clan is something i will carry with me forever. despite the unjust fall of my household, i will bring back its honour. the raiden shogun’s vision hunt decree stripped my family of their lives, thus i swear i will reclaim justice. for them, and for the future.”

about us: kiyoharu motto

“the motto of the kiyoharu household is: “with grace and with fortitude.”, and i channel this saying into my sword whenever i draw it. it is the foundation for the kiyoharu way of life.”

about us: sword art

“ah, i see you have taken an interest in my fighting style. for me, fighting with a sword should not just be about the battle. it is an art, and i find myself overindulging in the grace and fluidity of swordsmanship all too often.”

about the vision

“my vision? i see it as a way of showing solidarity against the oppressive raiden shogun. i do not wish to hide that which is so dear to me, and that which forges my identity. this vision is my symbol of strength, and the tenryo commission who seeks it will be met with my unyielding blade.”

something to share

“i’m not sure how long you will be in inazuma for, but traveler - one day, i’d like to take you to a festival here. they are truly wonderful, and members of the resistance always find ourselves sneaking in to witness them as well. ever since i was young, i’ve loved them so much, and i’d love to share this memory with you as a reminder of your time in inazuma.”

interesting things

“traveler, is it true that in liyue there are gods that walk amongst the people? huh… adepti you say… so, they just co-exist with mortals peacefully? you’ve met them?! wow… it seems i underestimated your power! just what else have you witnessed since being in teyvat…”

about kazuha: relationships

“kaedehara kazuha? ahem… well… yes, i suppose you could say that we are… lovers, of sorts. on his final night here, he left me with a single promise. i often spend nights staring up at the moon with him in my mind. i will wait for him, for as long as it takes, i know that i will see him again one day. i know that he will return home soon.”

about kazuha: poetry

“kazuha would often recite haikus to me as we’d live together when he was here. i remember him arriving at my doorstep, drenched in rain from head to toe, and i hadn’t the heart to turn him away. he stayed for a while, and after a few days i decided to risk it all for him. the bond we share… is unbreakable. if you see him, let him know that i am waiting for him.”

about kamisato ayaka

“i have a lot of respect for the princess of the kamisato clan. she conducts herself in a light i admire greatly, and she and i are close friends. her swordsmanship is just as impressive, and i would love it if we could spar once more as we used to. perhaps i will visit her soon…”

about yoimiya

“yoimiya? oh, of course - festivals in inazuma aren’t complete without a firework show organised by her. i have also heard her skills with a bow are unique, to say the least. paired with her passion for fireworks, i assume the combination work… interestingly in battle.”

about sayu

“hm? sayu… you mean the ninja who resides in the forests? i can’t say i’ve seen much of her… which is odd, considering she wields that great claymore…”

about gorou

“oh, gorou! i know him very well, actually. he was one of the first people i befriended as part of the resistance. he is a sound fighter, and i believe he can achieve great things. perhaps i can see him again soon.”

about the raiden shogun

“the raiden shogun… her despicable vision hunt decree… the tenryo commission… i detest it all. to see so many people’s dreams stripped, to see the colour fade from so many precious hopes… i will see to it that this is all restored. i cannot sympathise with a god who robs her people of their dreams.”

more about kiyoharu misa i

“you’d like to know more about me? i’m flattered. i know that your journey through inazuma won’t be easy, so please don’t hesitate to drop by every once in a while. my blade never rests, after all.”

more about kiyoharu misa ii

“the carvings on my sword are most intricate. a swordsmaiden’s weapon is her will. i find myself staring at the moon night after night, and the patterns on my sword are a tribute to the power it lends me.”

more about kiyoharu misa iii

“you want to know about my title? well, moonlit swordsmaiden refers to the way i utilise my vision. the light of the moon reflects through the electro element, and i believe that through this combination i can convey the power of the resistance.”

more about kiyoharu misa iv

“i’m an only child, so the fate of the kiyoharu clan rests in my hands. traveler, i believe that through knowing you i have become a better person. i hope that you will visit inazuma once again.”

more about kiyoharu misa v

“here, this is for you. it’s a charm made from pure sea glass. the way the sun and moonlight reflects through its unique colours is a rare sight to behold. i suppose this is a thank you gift, for everything we’ve been through together.”

kiyoharu misa’s hobbies

“my hobbies? well, in the late night and early morning hours, i enjoy heading down to a secluded beach and basking in the moonlight. those hours are the perfect opportunity to practice swordsmanship, and the art of sword dancing too. besides that, i suppose i enjoy embroidery too, although i’m not particularly good at it…”

kiyoharu misa’s troubles

“i often worry about the other members of the resistance. i find myself questioning as to whether they still have their visions, or even their lives. on top of that, i hope that one day i will be reunited with my lover… i pray that he too made it out safely.”

favorite food

“my mother used to make the most takoyaki. my family weren’t so insistent on having maids running around when we could cook everything ourselves, so i would always snack on my mother’s dishes. even today, the taste of takoyaki brings back vivid memories of my mother.”

least favourite food

“honestly, i’m not much of a picky eater, but i’m not too fond of anything containing fish eggs…”

birthday

“happy birthday! it’s a special day for you today. is there anything in particular you’d like? no, don’t be silly, of course i’ll get it for you! seeing as you’ve helped me this far, it’s only right that i give something back to you! on top of that, if there’s anything you ever need at all, i’ll be sure to help you out, friend.”

feelings about ascension: intro

“my blade only grows stronger. let’s continue working hard.”

feelings about ascension: building up

“how to describe this feeling… lightweight, but more powerful. the dance will go on.”

feelings about ascension: climax

“with each passing day, my blade grows keener. the moon seems more radiant than ever before.”

feelings about ascension: conclusion

“i believe i owe you a great thanks. the moonlight that rains down on the world will forever be in your favour, traveler. both you and i will improve leaps and bounds from here on out.”

addition to party

“are we heading off?”

“alright, ready when you are.”

“it’s time, let’s go.”

elemental skill

“will of my sword!”

“shrouded in moonlight!”

(convergence) “cut them blind!”

(convergence) “beams, converge!”

elemental burst

“kiyoharu art: carver of radiance!”

“dance of death.”

“face my blade!”

fallen

“i thought… we’d meet… again…”

“friends… i’m sorry…”

“no… i wasn’t… done…”

—

talents

—

normal attack - kiyoharu sword art

perform up to 5 consecutive attacks with a sword.

charged attack: consume a set amount of stamina to unleash a more powerful attack, dealing physical dmg to enemies.

plunging attack: plunges from mid-air to strike the ground below, damaging opponents in an aoe upon impact.

elemental skill - remnants of moonlight

tap once: kiyoharu misa dashes quickly forwards, dealing electro dmg to enemies in her path. she leaves a thunderblade at her starting and end point of her dash.

tap again: the thunderblades converge with kiyoharu misa as the focal point, creating a triangular zone of convergence. enemies within the zone of convergence are dealt electro dmg and are knocked up. a mark of radiance is applied to enemies within the zone of convergence.

if the skill is not reactivated, the two thunderblades will converge in a line after 4s. marks of radiance last for 12s.

elemental burst - kiyoharu art: carver of radiance

kiyoharu misa leaps into the air, before plunging down and dealing a powerful slash to enemies, dealing massive electro dmg. for 3s after her slash, thunder strikes will crash down on enemies who are marked by mark of radiance, dealing extra electro dmg.

passive 1 - swordsmaiden’s revenge

enemies affected by a mark of radiance will take 15% more damage from kiyoharu misa’s normal and charged attacks.

passive 2 - thundering retribution

kiyoharu misa’s crit dmg is increased by 10% for 5s after a zone of convergence is activated.

natural passive - lightning clarity

all party members’ crit dmg is increased by 10% when kiyoharu misa is in the party.

—

constellations

—

constellation 1: tenacity of lightning

the duration of thunderblades on the field is increased to 6s, and the duration of marks of radiance on enemies is increased to 16s.

constellation 2: shredding thunder

enemies marked by marks of radiance have their elemental res decreased by 20%.

constellation 3: roots of kiyoharu

the level of kiyoharu art: carver of radiance is increased by 3.

constellation 4: fatal reunion

if there are more than 5 enemies within the zone of convergence cast by remnants of moonlight, the cooldown is decreased by 3s.

constellation 5: swordsmaiden’s unwavering will

the level of remnants of moonlight is increased by 3.

constellation 6:

kiyoharu art: carver of radiance deals 50% more dmg to enemies previously affected by electro.

—

appearance

—

kiyoharu misa is a young woman and is of average height, with light brown hair, tied half up in a braided bow and then tied at the very bottom. she has bangs which frame her face. her eyes are deep gray-purple, and she has a small scar across the bridge of her nose. her outfit is coordinated with white and lavender colours, and her paper umbrella is also patterned with lavender coloured lightning and flower patterns.

i’m horrible at art so here’s a fun picrew of misa …… this isn’t what she’d wear but it’s the closest thing to what i was imagining ig …… also the band aid is supposed to be her lil scar LOL

[junquisite]

Master’s Pet : Introduction + Preview

PAIRING : Mafia Leader! Seungwoo X Mafia Member!OC X Mafia Member! Seungyoun

GENRE : Mafia smut AU

WARNING : Mature content, mention of violence and firearms, implied sexual content.

further warning for each chapter would be provided.

Word Count : 1.8k

Han Seungwoo - the man who can fulfill all your requests but at a certain price. You just have to to know the right people and the not so right people and the certainly not right places to hang. Most people who have had Seungwoo do something for them have never met him. This is how he works.

There are three people through which you can ask him for help.

Kim Yohan - the man you can find in any high class parties or lounges - as long as there would be good food and good booze, you'll find him there.

Lee Hangyul - the one probably easiest to find. The club he runs is the biggest in Seoul, he's always there. You just need to know how to get his attention - either you must have a lot of money or a girl he wants. Place your best bet, he gets both.

Kim Wooseok - the hardest to get. You need to have an appointment to see him. Go to the hotel he runs, ask the front desk to see him. If you're lucky, you can see him in the same month.

The Coaescie Group, or more like the front for the mafia which owns both the hotel and club has the Owner as Kang Seungsik who manages the front of the mafia. The CEO who is loved by the public and feared by the people who wrong him. An apt representative of the Coaescie gang. The perfect personality for the public’s eye but the tattoo at his neck states otherwise.

The Coaescie gang - dealing mainly in drugs and assassinations - has more than a 100 people working under it, most of whom have never met more than 1 main gang member. One of the main 21 gang members.

The one at the top - Han Seungwoo. Most feared and most respected - a name known in the underground as an equal to god, you never wrong him, it'll always have its consequences. The leader of the gang.

His right hand man - Cho Seungyoun. The one through whom all messages to Seungwoo goes through. Specialises in close combat, uses his Glock and is equally familiar with knives. Been with Seungwoo since the start. Known as the "Sadistic Torturer" - can torture someone for days to get something out, success rate of 99% in extracting information.

His other jewel - Cha Jieun. A sniper user with a success rate of 100%. Equally strong in close combat and weapons, prefers knives, especially her trench knife. Is the youngest in the gang but third in lead after Seungyoun. Seungwoo picked her up from an alley a few years after he started. Had barely spoken more than three words with anyone. Known as the "Soulless Killer" - shows close to no remorse or expression when killing.

The gang members share one house which is well equipped with bulletproof windows and walls, a basement completely furnished with a shooting range and training rooms, another room containing all sorts of weapons and a floor even below holding the prisoner and torture cells. It was just them 21 members and a couple of trustable servants who were paid just enough to keep their mouth shut, and obviously their family’s life also depended on their secret keeping so.

There were a few unspoken rules in the house. You don't talk with Cha Jieun unless you absolutely have to. She remained secluded either in her own room or Seungwoo's. Seungyoun was the most approachable person in the house and you can talk to him about anything.

The biggest unspoken but followed rule was - you never question what Han Seungwoo does. Or with whom. So it was never questioned why Jieun was found more easily in his room or office then her own room. Why his office was off limits for everyone except Seungyoun. What relationship more than a simple gang leader and gang member, did Han Seungwoo and Cha Jieun shared. You don't question these things nor do you talk about them, at least in the house. No one could stop Hangyul’s mouth anyway.

The other thing is, after Han Seungwoo, you never question Cho Seungyoun about what he does no matter how readable his face is. Because he never shows what he's truly feeling - you can never trust Seungyoun’s facial expressions. And he’s the loyalest of all members - he had never gone against Seungwoo’s order even once, ever done anything that might be disliked by him. He was the epitome of loyalty. So no one but Hangyul, because he has zero fears, has ever called him out on his extremely apparent attraction to Cha Jieun. No one knows if it was his utmost loyalty to Seungwoo overpowering him or his potential fear from him that he never once acted on his possible feelings. Nor has he ever paid any heed to Hangyul’s extremely invasive questions and given him the satisfaction of letting him see any slip on Seungyoun’s facial features. He has denied any attraction to Cha Jiuen - all 11 times that Hangyul has asked him.

But wooseok was the smart one. He notices things that Hangyul the loud mouth doesn't. Like the way Seungyoun sometimes joins Jieun in the dining area at her table when she’s home and how caring his every action is. How his eyes linger a bit too long on Jieun whenever she sparsely is seen. How, whenever, Jieun stays too long in Seungwoo’s office, Seungyoun stays distracted and his eyes keep on wandering to that door. How he had seen Seungyoun, on multiple occasions, checking Jieun’s room when she is home but not in her room and sighing and looking longingly at Seungwoo’s room’s direction. He had seen it all. And he was sure Hangyul’s accusations actually hold some weightage. But he was not dumb enough to voice that. Wooseok was the third person to join the gang, after Seungyoun and in all this time he had never seen Seungyoun lose his temper. But he was close to betting that it would happen soon.

~

Seungyoun might go on his missions but he always has a few tasks fixed. Like how he only owns the keys to all the rooms of the house including the basement rooms so his first task every morning is to open those rooms. And how daily before sleeping he has to report all the things to Seungwoo. Seungwoo has told Seungyoun multiple times that he trusts him enough that he doesn't have to tell him every detail but Seungyoun does. He feels better after telling him and believes that the leader should know every detail - he was Seungwoo’s eyes and ears and the brain must always be aware of everything.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. He knocked on the office door and entered at the soft ‘come in’. Seungwoo was as usual sitting on his chair behind his desk, a file opened in front of him, a smile on his face as he looked at Seungyoun. Seungyoun had often wondered why Seungwoo didn't decide to establish himself as the face of the group when he had such a charming face himself but he never questioned it.

“Anything new?” was his first question as he looked at his side, one of the doors to his bedroom which was attached to his office slightly ajared and whistled lightly.

“Song Yuvin got busted and he needs us to hide his whole stash till then.”

“Didn't he tried to run off without paying us last time?” Seungwoo asked as he stared at Seungyoun, business face on and they both heard the bedroom door opening. None of them looked at it.

“He did. I have raised the price to double and the condition is that he has to pay 3/4th of it front up tomorrow. If he can, then we’ll actually do it. He’ll be meeting Yohan tomorrow.” Seungyoun finished and he finally saw who it was that walked out of the room.

Cha Jieun who walked from the bedroom to Seungwoo who was signing his hand for her and she  didn't even glance at Seungyoun, she went straight to Seungwoo and sat in his lap.

Seungwoo pushed his chair back slightly and adjusted her so that her face was hidden in his neck and he started running his fingers through her hair. 

“Anything else? I'm sure you can manage Yuvin.”

“Nothing Sir.” Seungyoun said stiffly and turned around.

“Seungyoun-ah” Seungwoo trailed off and he turned around and saw Jieun peeking at him too. This was new.

“Can you bring a glass of water for Jieun? I would ask the staff but no one is here now and I don't have any water in my office.” he said and Seungyoun nodded.

He was bringing the jar of water and the glass to the office and with gritted teeth, swore. It was not the first time something like this has happened - multiple times situations like this have arisen which had left him wondering if Seungwoo knew everything and was slowly testing him. Testing his breaking point because lately it feels like the scene he walks in on or witnesses keeps on worsening.

Last time he came to his office, everything was normal and Seungwoo was behind his desk like always. Except after staying in the office for a few minutes he heard someone choking and finally looked down at the desk - the slight gap between the desk and floor showing small feets meaning someone was under the desk on the other side. When he looked up at Seungwoo, he just smirked at him. Seungyoun had spent half an hour at the training room that night after that.

He knocked on the door and instead of Seungwoo’s deep voice, Jieun’s soft voice asked him to come in. and he finally took in her sight after a few days - she was on a mission for the past 4 days. She still looked as good as ever - although her arm had a bandage on which meant a sniper kill turned into more during the mission. He wanted to ask her how it went but she looked tired so he decided to leave it till the next time he sees her, preferably in the dining hall.

She took the glass of water from him and thanked him softly and he took that time to scan her for any other injury she might have and that's when he saw it. She was wearing a huge shirt, probably Seungwoo’s, and he was hoping there were shorts underneath it. But when she raised her hand to drink water and the shirt went up, it was not a sight of shorts that greeted his eyes but bruises. Thighs littered with small bruises and bite marks and that was not all - there were hand prints and grip marks. He really did not wanted to dwell on that any more than necessary so he was about to leave when Seungwoo came out of the bedroom and said, “aah Seungyoun-ah! Whenever you go outside can you drop by some pharmacy and buy some ointment? Jieun bruises easily.”

Seungyoun really didn't had to know that. And he really didn't wanted to hear it from Seugnwoo.

[beldroxramscal]

Sway ~ part 1

Javier Pena x female!OC

Word count: 2.690

Summary: One of Javier’s former informants came back to Bogotá. On his way to find out why, he encounters some unexpected trouble.

Warnings: guns, strippers, mentions of sex, language

A/N: No one asked for this and I doubt many people will read this, but I was so proud of myself for writing more than a few sentences, I decided to post this. My first fic in maybe 3 years? This is also my first time not writing for a ship and my first time posting something with my OC (very exciting and terrifying). I have a little more in mind with this, but we’ll see.

English is not my first language and I have no one to beta for me. That is just a very long way to say: sorry, my English sucks.

Part 1//Part 2//Part 3//

However he thought, or God forbid hoped, this night would go, this was not even in his top ten. Sweat rolled down his back, as the barrel of a gun dug under his chin. The mixture of gunpowder, iron, and raspberries hitting his nose while a pair of green eyes looked up at him. All he saw were flames. It was hard to connect her to the woman he saw just 5 minutes ago dancing with soft blue lights reflecting off of the glitter on her body. Along with the soft smiles and white bodice, she looked almost angelic. It was a stupid thought back then, and it’s even more stupid now.

“Layla! I don’t think this is a very good idea,” a shaky voice of reason came from the most unexpected source. Sweet Valentina hasn’t moved from the door since she brought him here, and he almost forgot she was standing there.

“Yeah? You know what’s not a very good idea? Bringing strange men backstage! How many fucking times have I told you?” Layla barked back without taking her eyes off of him. Her voice was angry and annoyed, but she was a complete picture of calmness.

“Look, my name is Javier Pena–”

“And you are looking for Izzy. I heard you. Where is your badge?”

Oh, so she knew who he was. He just hoped that was a good thing.

“Jeans. Back pocket.”

Layla moved to stand by his side as she blindly reached to his pocket. Instead, her hand landed on the small of his back, and she pulled out a gun from the back of his jeans. Without giving it a look, she threw it on the small couch behind her. Finally, she pulled out his badge, and her eyes left his for the first time since he came into her dressing room.

“What the fuck am I supposed to find out from this?” She closed her eyes forcefully, scrunching her nose in frustration.

“I am a DEA agent,” he answered a bit confused. No one ever questioned his badge before.

“So fucking what? Is there only one DEA agent? Anyone can fucking have this. Where’s some kind of picture, name… something. Jesus. Where’s your ID?”

Before he could tell her that it was in the inside pocket of his jacket Valentina started slurring words in a panic. By the look on Layla’s face, she wasn’t sure of what was said either, but it didn’t take much guessing when her last words were, “HE IS THE POLICE?”

“Why the hell are you still here, Val? Just get out.” Layla sounded as tired of all of this as he felt. He had some actual fucking work to do and instead he was here. Trying to figure out why one of his former informants came back to Bogotá and make sure she got out safe again.

“I’m not leaving you alone with him. What if he does something to you?”

“And how exactly would you help me?” There was a silence for a few moments, and then he heard Valentina move. Judging by the sound, she moved very slowly. Layla’s eyebrows raised in question and then her lips turned into an amused smile. “Good girl,” she said finally. Javier tried to turn his head and see what was going on, but Layla dug the gun even deeper into his skin making him hiss. It didn’t matter much either way because Valentina stopped in front of him. His own gun pointing at his chest.

“Now, where’s your ID?” Layla turned her attention back to him.

“Jacket.”

He felt her patting the side pockets and finally find her way to his wallet and ID. She studied it for a moment, looking up at him and back down to the piece of plastic and then, finally, lowering the gun.

“Give him back his gun, Val,” she nodded at her. Valentina almost threw it at him before Layla even finished her sentence. He caught it and put it back into the back of his jeans.

Layla took a few steps back and took Valentina’s hand into her own, giving it a kiss. “Go home, love,” her voice was full of tenderness and warmth as she spoke to the younger woman. Such simple gestures and somehow it felt too intimate for him to witness. “I’m sure Agent Pena will gladly pay for any emotional distress he caused you tonight.” Layla looked up from the woman up to him again with one of the fakest sweetest smiles he’s ever seen.

God, he hated strip clubs. You always pay way more than necessary for much less fun than a fucking brothel. Still, he took out a few bills from his wallet and reluctantly gave them to her. Valentina shoved them into her bra and, with a promise of a call from Layla, left.

“Unbelievable,” he let out, the bizarre nature of the situation finally hitting him.“Can’t say I’ve ever been held at gunpoint by a stripper.”

“I believe that,” she shot him a cold look. “Considering,” she gestured vaguely at him, “your whole deal. I mean, most strippers don’t have the inside information you want and very few of them fuck for money.”

He felt her words burn in his chest as he lit a cigarette to avoid her stare. He pondered if he should defend himself, but it seemed like she only wanted him to know that she knew what went down between him and Izzy. “Where is she?” he asked instead, trying to get to the point of this whole night.

“Safe. Her grandma got sick, so she came to visit her. She leaves tomorrow afternoon.”

“I would like to see her and make sure she’s alright,” he pressed. He didn’t come all the way down here and got his head almost blown off for words of reassurance.

She studied his face, lighting a cigarette of her own. Javier wasn’t sure of what she found out, but after a few moments, she turned her back to him and started packing her things into a bag. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll meet you outside.”

———-

The second she heard the door close behind him her hands tore away at the robe draped around her body. The material was light, but it felt like she was caught in a vice. Letting the flimsy material pool around her feet, she was finally able to take a deep breath. It still did not seem like enough. It did not matter though, she had no time to panic and wouldn’t have until Izzy and David were safely out of Colombia.

Taking one more deep breath she took off the silver bra and thongs and exchanged them for the more comfortable cotton pair she came to work in. She hastily stuffed all the costumes she used that night into her bag and then swept all the trinkets on the table on top of them with one broad sweep of her hand. She was already annoyed at the mess she’d have to go through later.

In her own clothes, she made her way through the back door outside the club. It took a little longer to get to the main street, but still better than being stopped by patrons asking for a private show.

Agent Pena was leaning on the hood of, what she thought had to be, his car. He was just finishing another cigarette, his eyes already on her as she stepped from around the corner of the building and into the street.

“That was more than five minutes,” he commented when she was within the earshot. Pushing off the hood of the car, he walked to the driver’s side without giving her a second look.

“I was hoping you’d fuck off,” she muttered to herself before sliding into the passenger seat.

He started the car and looked at her impatiently, waiting for instructions. She reluctantly told him their destination, not exactly ecstatic that she was about to take him to her flat.

Silence fell over the car when they hit the streets he was familiar with, and she didn’t have to navigate him anymore. Her head rested on the window, and she watched him drive. He seemed tired. Bags under his eyes and even his hands on the wheel kept sliding down now and then. She smiled to herself when his nose scrunched up as if something tickled it.

Pena turned his head as he stopped at an intersection and did a little double-take when he noticed her watching him. “What?” he asked seeming almost self-conscious. It made her laugh.

“Nothing,” she shrugged and kept her eyes unashamedly on him.

He looked at her again, holding her gaze for a few moments as if he was testing her, averting his eyes back to the road when she didn’t flinch. “I thought you wanted me to ‘fuck off’.”

“Oh, I do,” she agreed, completely serious. “I’m also kinda intrigued. I mean, Izzy risked everything for you. I’m just trying to figure out what it is about you that was worth it.”

He seemed to be caught off guard by her honesty. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel, and he shifted in his seat. This was obviously not a very comfortable topic for him. “I think you are giving me more credit than it’s due. I just offered her a safe way from Colombia with her son.”

“Sure,” she nodded, “seems reasonable enough.” The sarcasm in her voice did not escape him, but she just did not want to talk about that anymore. Both of them knew Izzy liked him more than she should have. She didn’t risk only her life, but also the life of her son and her grandmother. It didn’t matter now anyway.

“Is Layla your real name?”

She let out a laugh because the question was simply ridiculous. Especially after that little exchange they just had. The corner of his lip quirked up just a little. He seemed happy she wanted to move on from the conversation as well. “You are the big DEA agent here. What do you think?”

“So, what is your real name?” he looked at her again. The streetlights reflected in his eyes, and she realized that they were not as dark as she previously thought.

“Why? So you can go back to work tomorrow and try to look me up in one of your files?” she kept her tone light, teasing. He seemed more responsive to that, and it was nice to see him relax a little. Plus, she felt she owed him after holding a gun to his head.

“Of course not,” he shook his head, “I’m going back to the office right after I’m done with this.”

She laughed again, and he joined in with his reserved chuckle. “Well, I’m tempted to see how good you are and what you come up with only my address and a stage name.”

“So,” he turned his head to her and slowed down the car when she motioned to the apartment complex she lived in and parked right in front of it. “You think we will see each other again.”

“I think you like a challenge, agent Pena,” she winked at him as she got out of the car.

She closed her eyes in the cool air, mentally banging her head against a wall. Why did she always have to flirt? Barely, but still. It was like a curse she couldn’t get rid of, and it always came up in the most inappropriate of places. Like with a fucking DEA agent who fucked one of her best friends.

Pena closed the car door and caught up with her on the steps into the building. She led him to the second-floor terrace when he tried his luck one last time. “So you won’t tell me your name?”

“No,” she answered simply as she unlocked the door to her flat. “Izzy!” she called out into the apartment, but instead of Izzy, little David came running from one of the rooms.

“Auntie, Nat! Auntie, Nat!” he almost tackled her to the ground trying to show her little cars his grandmother bought him.

“No way! These are amazing!” she yelped, trying to match little David’s energy even if he just told Pena her real name.

“Auntie, Nat,” Pena repeated after the boy with a winning smile.

Natalia just shook her head at him disapprovingly, “that’s cheating.”

“Nat! I made di–” Izzy’s words died in her throat as her eyes landed on the man next to her. “What are you doing here?”

“Izzy,” Pena walked slowly to her, “I just wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

Izzy nodded at him, her eyes blown in shock. “Why are you with Nat?”

Hearing her name, Natalia took David into her arms. “Why don’t you two have a little chat and David,” she turned her attention to the youngest one, “can tell me all about these fancy cars.” The little bugger nodded furiously and twisted his way out of her arms.

“Yes! Of course! He couldn’t wait to show you,” Izzy agreed, kissing her son on the forehead as he ran past her and into Natalia’s room. Nat followed him in silence, only squeezing Izzy’s hand as she walked past her.

Her room was a mess with bags and clothes and toys all around the place. It looked like Izzy was in the middle of a packing up. Natalia made some room on her bed and sat down with David, trying to give him her full attention. It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would. David made damn sure she wouldn’t have anything on her mind but the story of the two racing cars.

It didn’t take long before the doors to her room opened and Izzy came in. She was genuinely smiling, content. “He’s leaving, but wants to talk to you.”

Nat nodded and walked out of her room and to the living room, where Pena was standing by the door with his hands on his hips. He didn’t seem very happy with anything that just happened. “What’s going on?” She stopped closer to him than necessary, but she didn’t wanna risk David hearing anything.

“Do you know how to use that little gun of yours?” he ducked his head down, bringing him even closer.

“I-I,” she stammered. The intensity in which his eyes bore into hers scared her. “Yes… Yes I know how to use it.”

“Good. Izzy doesn’t want me to go with you tomorrow.” He handed her a little white card with his name and put it into her hand. “If there’s anything weird. If you see anyone you don’t like or even if you have just a bad feeling,” he closed her hand around the piece of paper with his hand, not letting go just yet. “I want you to immediately call me, okay?”  Somehow he was even closer now, but instead of recoiling from him, she stood motionless.

His eyes slid to her open lips that were unable to form the word to go with her nodding.

“Good,” he said slowly, dragging his eyes up to hers again. She felt as if she was under a microscope as if he could see every emotion she was feeling at that moment plainly in her face. Could he tell how scared she was?

“Good,” he repeated when his eyes landed on hers again. “Call me.”

“I will,” she finally found her voice. It was quiet and shaky and downright pathetic. She should have stuck with nodding like an idiot.

His head was tilting back and forth as if he could not bring himself to get out of her space even though he should. There was no reason for him to stay this close to her now, and she wasn’t sure if there was any need before, but neither of them was ready to make the first move.

With a quick swipe of tongue over his lower lip, he finally stood up to his height, squeezing her balled up fist in his hand as he turned to the door. “Good night, Nat.”

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch 21)

Chapter 21

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13, ch 14, ch 15, ch 16, ch 17, ch 18, ch 19, ch 20, ch 21

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 2,998

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France, human trafficking

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​ @fallenstar-7​​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing...

TW: violence, gore, graphic descriptions of gore

(sorry for the wait, but it think it turned out pretty good, if i do say so myself. Also, i just don't know what to do for the pictures anymore lol.)

“Just so we’re clear, you’re probably not going to use this thing the day of,” said Jimmy K. “You two and Jin are gonna be evacuating the captives while the rest of us fight. All this training is just in case.”

               “I know,” said Jungkook. “I still want to learn how to use it.”

               The heavy double propane tanks were strapped to Jungkook’s back, the hose in hand.

               “It’s pretty easy,” said Jimmy K. “Just open the valve and pull the trigger.”

               Training with Jimmy K was fun but grueling. They had been doing target practice for hours, which was tedious. By the time evening hit, Catalina’s shoulder hurt and she just wanted to see her boyfriend use a flamethrower. She wasn’t disappointed. He was downright giddy as he twisted the valve open on the tank behind his head, then blasted the practice dummies. The dummies, along with all the arrows sticking out of them, burst into flames. Jungkook laughed gleefully, the light of the fire glinting in his eyes.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~

               She couldn’t move, and the metal against her neck was pressing harder. She wished she could reach out for Jimin’s hand beside her, but he couldn’t move either. She wished Jungkook wouldn’t look at her like that, with dread and desperation in his eyes. She wished he wouldn’t try so hard to get to her, she didn’t want him to die too. He needed to get out safely. She tried to open her mouth to tell him that, but then the hand holding the knife to her throat moved and the last thing she heard was a scream.

               “Cat! Wake up!”

               Catalina woke with a start, sweating, tears streaming down her face. She was in her room.

               “Cat?”

               She startled again, her heart still pounding before she saw Jungkook beside her. He was looking at her with concern, a hand reaching out to cup her face.

               “You were having a nightmare,” he said. Catalina sighed and closed her eyes, leaning into his palm.

               “I don’t remember it,” she said. That was a lie. She did remember it, but she didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t know what all these dreams meant and she didn’t want to. She felt him pull her closer and wrap his arms around her.

               “Go back to sleep,” he said. “No more dreams tonight.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

               The mansion was packed. Well, the foyer was packed. When Catalina and Jungkook arrived, they were surprised to see so many people, so many vampires, already there. The unfamiliar faces stared at them as they pushed through the crowd.

               They found Hoseok in the back of the lounge, playing on his phone on the couch.

               “This is a party in here,” said Catalina.

               “Yeah, Namjoon’s friends from up north got here yesterday,” said Hoseok. “Can you believe this is all one clan?”

               “Out there?” Jungkook asked. “That’s all one group? There’s like twenty of them out there!”

               “Is he expecting more?” asked Catalina.

               “I don’t think so,” said Hoseok. “Namjoon already went over the plan with them over night. Most of them don’t even care a whole lot about saving humans, they’re just in it for fun. I guess it’s okay, as long as the job gets done.”

               “True,” said Catalina. “We’ll need all the help we can get. So, we’re doing this thing tonight? Are you nervous?”

               Hoseok thought for a moment before turning to her and saying, “They ruined my life. I’m fine now that I have these guys, but I could have finished college and done something with myself. And they ruined that chance for me. So, I think I’m ready to end them.”

               The conviction in his eyes was almost startling to Catalina. She’s never seen him like this, but it made her happy. He was ready to take his life back.

               “Are you ready?” Jungkook asked Catalina, taking her hand.

               “I think so,” she said. “I want this to end.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

               They arrived at the same time as the police. Catalina waited outside the entrance for the signal. Emergency vehicles lined the perimeter, ambulances opening their doors and readying themselves for patients.

“How many do you think will be in there?” she asked Namjoon. He looked confidant ordering the vampires around, but he hesitated when he answered.

“There should be no more than thirty,” he said. He sounded sure of himself, but Catalina caught a flash of nervousness in his eyes. She looked over at her other friends. Yoongi was dressed in a tracksuit, an ornate sword on his hip. His grip was tight, knuckles white. Taehyung looked fierce and determined, but he was chewing on his lip and pacing. Hoseok looked the most nervous, picking at his already torn sleeves, eyeing the building with trepidation.

They called themselves immortal, but Catalina knew they weren’t. They were just as nervous as she was.

She watched Jimmy K lead the vampires into the building, one small group at a time. She watched Namjoon, Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok go in. She waited three minutes, then went in herself. She knew Namjoon was going to try to find Makai and make a deal first. If that didn’t work, they would fight. Catalina hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but as she descended the stairs and entered the tunnel, she knew it wasn’t going well. Voices bounced off the cement walls, mixing with the clanging of her footsteps against the metal floor. As soon as she reached the end of the tunnel, one of Namjoon’s friends, Priya, Catalina remembered, met her there.

Priya supposedly had very good hypnotic abilities, even against other vampires, which was why Namjoon chose her as their cover. She would make sure Catalina, Jungkook, and Jin got in and out without being seen. Catalina never got the chance to witness those abilities, so she just had to trust Namjoon’s word for it.

The fight had broken out in the central part of the basement. She couldn’t see her friends, but she didn’t want to spend too much time searching for them in the chaos. She needed to focus on her task. Catalina made it to the first door. The metal lock mechanism was tight and she had to get Priya’s help opening it. Once it was opened, she rushed to the person inside. It was a pale woman, lips so blue and eyes so sunken, Catalina would have assumed her to be dead in she hadn’t cracked her eyes open.

After taking the needle out and checking for any other wounds, she asked, “Do you think you can walk?”

The woman just stared at her, so Catalina lifted the woman’s arm and draped it over her shoulders, helping the woman to her feet. She was almost dead weight at first, surprisingly light, but then she slowly started shuffling her feet, trying her best to stay upright. A loud boom shook the ground, making Catalina flinch.

As fast as they could, they made their way back to the tunnel. Catalina glanced into the crowd. Across the giant room, an entire wall was destroyed, dust still in the air. She still couldn’t see her friends.

Jungkook and Jin, along with two police officers met them at the bottom of the stairs. The officers took the woman from Catalina.

“It sounds bad,” said Jungkook, his eyes wide.

“I can’t really tell what’s happening,” said Catalina. “I didn’t see any of them.”

Jungkook squeezed her hand once before heading down the tunnel with Priya.

“I’ll be quick,” he said.

Catalina watched him go. The sounds of the battle seemed to get louder. A scream broke through the noise, but it didn’t sound like someone she knew. She hoped Jungkook was staying safe. Waiting for him to return was agony. She didn’t know what she would do if he got hurt. Her worry must have been showing through, because Jin put a hand on her shoulder.

Two more officers came downstairs and waited with them.

By the time ten minutes passed, Catalina was shaking. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the entrance of the tunnel.

Footsteps echoed against the metal floor and Catalina’s heart sped up. When she saw Jungkook round the corner, she felt the tension melt off of her. He was carrying a young man in his arms and the woman hobbling beside him was clutching his arm and leaning into him. He passed the young man off to the officers, one of them carrying the man, the other helping the woman up the stairs.

As soon as Jungkook’s arms were free, Catalina threw herself at him. Jin took off down the tunnel with Priya next.

She didn’t let go of Jungkook for several minutes.

“Did you see them?” she asked. He shook his head.

The two officers from before came down the stairs and about a minute later, Jin appeared, helping someone down the tunnel.

The three of them continued like this, eventually trying their best to pick up two or three people each time.

The battle seemed to be calming down, and the next time Catalina went in, she noticed that almost everyone was either subdued or standing around. Someone was talking at the other side of the crowd, but she couldn’t see who it was, she couldn’t tell by the voice either. She still couldn’t see her friends.

The hallway was almost all open doors and empty rooms now. There were only a few left at the end of the hall. If the people inside could walk, she would try to get all of them at once.

Before she could reach the end of the hallway, a woman stepped out from one of the rooms, blocking them from going any further. Catalina recognized her as the blonde woman, Amanda. She was just as glamorous as she remembered, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulder, her red lips curled into a sinister smile.

Priya stepped in front of Catalina.

“Just go back to the others,” said Priya. “They must be looking for you.”

“I can smell her,” said Amanda. “You’re trying to hide her from me, but I know her scent. She’s right behind you, isn’t she?”

Priya didn’t say anything, she just clenched her fists at her sides.

“You don’t have to try anymore,” said Amanda. “I know her scent from the field. And when she visited us pretending to be Yoongi’s familiar.”

Catalina realized with a start that she never saw Amanda that day they bought Jimin. Which meant she was watching them the whole time, keeping herself unseen. Catalina felt a shiver run down her spine.

“We have your little friend,” said Amanda. “He’s our bargaining chip. Would you like to join him? It’ll pack a bigger punch if we have two of their pets instead of one.”

Priya growled and stepped forward. She didn’t get much of a chance to attack before Amanda lunged at her, faster than Catalina could even see. Amanda made quick work of Priya, wrestling her to the ground and snapping her neck so far around, her flesh was torn and her dead eyes stared at the ceiling as her chest hit the floor.

Catalina turned around and ran. She ran into an adjoining hallway, taking turns down tunnels she had no idea existed. She didn’t look back to see if Amanda was behind her. She ran until her lungs burned.

Where was she? She didn’t recognize this part of the facility. It looked like a service tunnel; cement walls were covered in pipes and access panels. The ground was metal grating, just like the entrance tunnel. Red, caged lights sparsely lined the bottom of the walls. The red light did nothing to calm her fear. Amanda wasn’t behind her. How? She was faster, Catalina shouldn’t stand a chance.

If I can get to Namjoon, or any of the others, they’ll protect me, she thought. But she didn’t know how to get back. She couldn’t stop moving though. The twists and turns were almost labyrinthine, taking her further and further away from her friends. Further away from her safety. That’s when another thought crossed her mind.

The longer she was gone, the more likely Jungkook was to go looking for her. And that was the last thing she wanted. They already had Jimin, or that’s what she thought anyway. She assumed that’s what Amanda was insinuating.

“Here, kitty kitty,” Amanda’s voice echoed throughout the tunnel. “If you keep running, you’ll run into some monsters down here. And pretty kitties like you will most certainly get eaten by the monsters.”

Catalina couldn’t see Amanda anywhere, but her voice sent a chill through her. Where has she heard those words before? Where has she seen this tunnel before? The familiar burn in her lungs forced her to stop and catch her breath.

Why did it feel like Catalina had already done all this?

A shadow dropped from the ceiling in front of her. Before she could scream, Amanda lunged at her and slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Where’s your other human friends?” she asked. “Where’s the pretty one with the big eyes?”

The hand over her mouth didn’t let up, so Catalina couldn’t answer even if she wanted to. Amanda wasn’t waiting around for an answer though. Catalina’s arms were secured behind her back with ease and she was forced to walk. They somehow made it out of the winding tunnels and to Makai’s office unnoticed.

Laying on one of the couches was Jimin, bound and gagged. Catalina’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, I wondered why I recognized this guy when we first got him,” said Makai. He was sitting behind his desk, looking over at Jimin. “I thought maybe I had run into him somewhere in town, or maybe at my yoga lessons on Thursdays. But then Yoongi bought him, and I realized he was one of the humans at the baseball field that day. I can’t believe it took me so long to figure it out! Yoongi was a good actor that day, wasn’t he?”

Catalina didn’t answer.

“Yeah, you guys were good,” said Makai. “And at first, it was fine. He bought his friend back. No big deal. At the end of the day, I still got paid and could keep doing what I was doing. But then you all came in here and wrecked my stuff. It made me kind of sad. I really did like Yoongi. I thought he was cool. I thought his whole clan was cool! Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill them. At least I’ll try not to. I want to work a deal out with them, and that’s where you come in.”

“It’s just a harmless trade,” said Amanda.

“Right! It sounds like they’re talking out there right now, so let’s go out there and see if we can work something out,” said Makai. His smile then disappeared as he stood up from behind the desk. He pulled out two large pocket knives, opening one and handing the other to Amanda. If it’s a harmless trade, why do they have those?, Catalina thought. She didn’t want to die today. She didn’t want Jimin to die and she hoped to God Jungkook stuck to the plan because she didn’t want him to die either.

Makai hauled Jimin to his feet and pushed him out the door. Amanda shoved Catalina after them.

The battle was still halted. Namjoon was at the front of the crowd, speaking with a woman. Mohati. Catalina remembered her from the baseball field. Yoongi was beside him. Taehyung was there as well, a subdued vampire on the ground under his knee.

“ALRIGHT, EVERYONE SHUT UP!” Makai bellowed. The crowd went silent and everyone’s attention was brought to the two vampires and their human captives. Catalina saw Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of them. She saw panic flash through Taehyung’s eyes. He almost stood up. She couldn’t see where Hoseok was. She hoped he was okay.

Makai began speaking, addressing mainly Namjoon. They argued, but Catalina couldn’t focus on the conversation over her own pounding heartbeat. Namjoon took a step forward and Amanda brought her knife to Catalina’s throat. Makai did the same with Jimin. His eyes were wide and terrified. He was staring at Taehyung, who matched his expression. Catalina squeezed her eyes closed. The metal dug into her neck. She swore it was breaking the skin. She could hear Jimin’s panicked breathing and she wanted to reach a hand out to him, but her arms were held in an iron grip. Another voice made her eyes fly open.

Jungkook had pushed through the crowd and Yoongi was now holding him back from approaching. Catalina met his eyes. She never wanted to see that kind of terror in his eyes. That pain. She never wanted to see him crying the way he was. Catalina felt tears well up in her own eyes at the sight.

“…you know we can’t let you do that,” Namjoon was saying. “There has to be something we can work out…”

Catalina assumed Makai wanted to bribe Namjoon into letting him continue his organization. She assumed Namjoon was trying to work out a way to not let that happen, but without casualties. Blood was rushing in her ears and the only thing she could focus on was Jungkook. She wanted to tell him not to do anything rash. He needed to stay alive. He needed to get out of this unharmed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of movement. A vampire she didn’t recognize tried to attack Makai. Namjoon yelled at him to stop, but it was too late. The vampire was tackled by Mohati and the last thing Catalina heard was Jungkook, screaming her name, before she felt the searing pain of the knife dragging across her throat.

Within seconds, her hearing went out, her vision went dark, and before her mind went blank, she prayed she was the only one dying today.

[clouds-rambles]

Love is eternal... but you are not

Pairings; Ara x Selene

Warning(s); Major character death, angst, hurt no comfort, panic attacks

Summary; Mortals and immortals should really have relationships... Ara knew that much. But she was loved and she loved. Why is it never enough?

Words; 943

Notes; *YELLS INTO A PILLOW* Comfort ship is when two oc's, Ara and Selene deserve the world but alas I like to punish myself, @clouds-amnesia for you my dear <33

Keep reading under the cut!

Ara!

Wow it's been a while since I last saw you (67 days and 12 hours from when I'm writing this letter) and I know I don't normally write letters when I'm out and about but I'm missing you.. a lot..

I miss your cute hugs, your kisses, your smile, your laughter, the pet names you use for me. I feel lonely. And my exhibition is supposed to last another fortnight so I can't see you for another three weeks... it sucks... I just want to be by you

Do you remember last summer solstice? We went atop that mountain to witness it, and we saw those mountain lions? I do. I didn't say it then because I was too busy kissing you but. The way the two were basking in both the sunlight and each other? It reminded me of us. The way we'd open the curtains on the nice summer mornings just to lie together in bed and soak in the sunlight. I coo at the memory of you pouting at the sun because it was in your eyes.

I want to be back home now... see you and our litter of kittens. I'm sure they're more like cats now. Have you given them all names? If so I have to tell you I've basically already named the kitty with the paw socks 'Socks' super unoriginal but it just fits her so much, and she looks super cute. If you do give some of the kittys away just don't give cute lil' socks away please <3

Now that I bought up the memory of solstice I'm just overcome with so many emotions and memories... so excuse the odd happy tear on the paper

Love you Petal. I hope you're having a good time and you're not overworking yourself.

Selene xx

Selene was alive when the letter was sent, she was actually alive up until a week and a half ago according to the letter than accompanied this letter but now? Selene's gone. Beaten thanks to some inexperienced adventurers walking into a hilichurl camp.

Now level headed, rational Ara would have nodded and gotten on with her day. Ara is not level headed. Especially not in this moment. She's angry, upset, she's in mourning and she just wants her precious wife back.

And in all fairness Ara didn't storm to each of the adventures homes and beat them half to death, she just wrote several... extremely strong worded letters with more than enough death threats to sink a battleship.

It's been hard for her though...no body to bury and no sibling to let her speak to her ghost just once just to maybe get some closure.

'Ara isn't supposed to be like this' she tells herself, in the mirror, as she's brewing tea, as she's trying to sleep. Ara doesn't cry, because she doesn't lose people. Ara doesn't cry because Selene was supposed to be here forever... Ara doesn't cry....

Ara sits in her bathroom rocking back and forth. Her body screams for, her body yearns for the touch of her lover. Or at the very least to have her siblings here to comfort her. But alas she can't have the former anymore... and the latter are littered across the continent... she could find Cael with ease but... she isn't sure how she'd break it to her brother that the woman who has saved his life multiple times is gone. Ara isn't really bothered how Cael would react... more how she'd react. Telling people that Selene is gone... just makes them even more gone. The tiny chance that Selene will walk through the door goes away the second Ara tells anyone. It goes away the second Ara has to accept that Selene is gone. The chance of seeing her wife again... gone. More gone than it already is...

Ara isn't sure how much time has passed, her life has slowed... patients come and go to see the Green Witch. But every time someone asks where her cute wife is. Her composure is gone and the client has to go home.

Ara tries doing things. The things that she used to do before Selene arrived. But nothing feels the same. Sleeping is met with coldness no matter how hot the evening is. Cooking is met with memories of Selene complimenting the spiciness of her dishes, with memories of the two of them dancing to nothing more than the rhythm of their hearts. Inside feels cold, memories of cuddling by the fire and reading books together spring to mind. Outside feels colder, Ara's met with memories of Selene happily talking to vendors asking about their families.

Ara desperately wants to go back to domestic bliss with her wife. So desperately that it almost hurts.

Ara has experienced loss before. Loving mortals is a losing battle. It only ends in never ending regret. And Ara seems to have a think for women who put themselves in danger.

A losing battle really...

But...

This time was supposed to be different. Ara made a contract. Selene was supposed to be immortal that was what their spirit contract entailed.

And yet...

Bested by a hilichurl camp...

Three hundred years is a long time for mortals. It was a long time for Selene. It took almost a hundred years to get over seeing her closest mortal friends and family dying. Selene was doing fine.. more than fine. Selene had been happy and in domestic bliss

And yet..

Fate took both Ara and Selene's happiness.. again.. and at the cost of Selene's life.

Fate has never been friends to the lovers...

Maybe unhappiness is what fate wanted to give Ara

[kyber-kisses]

Through A Mothers Eyes (Part 3)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Wanna start from the beginning? Here is the masterlist!

Warnings: crack, cursing, idiots to lovers trope (that good shit)

Summary: When Mary meets Deans closest and best friend, she cant help but see the chemistry between them. . .but she might be the only one as well.

A/n: Its back! It took me awhile to motivate myself to write the next chapter, but I did it! I hope you enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated! (gif made by rainbow-motors)

If Mary thought living in a bunker with her two sons and you was chaotic. . . She was definitely not prepared at all for what game night meant. Not. One. Bit.

It was like a fucking war zone.

Halfway through Jenga she almost expected you and Dean to slap on some war paint, she had never seen such competitive people before in her life.

And then you brought out Uno.

“Fuckin demolish him Cas!” You yelled, hands planted firmly on the table as you watched the angel and hunter slap down colored cards furiously. You, Sam, and Mary had all lost already, resulting in you being Cas’s new hype man.

“Y/N, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“There are no sides in Uno, Dean!”

“Then why the hell are you cheering on Cas?!” Dean slapped down another card. The two were almost running out of cards to play that it hit the point where Sam had to start shuffling the played cards so they could continue. “As your best friend let me just say; I find that insulting.”

“False. Cas is actually my best friend.” You responded bluntly, raising your hand to connect it with the angels in a loud high five.

Dean paused to narrow his eyes in your direction. “. . . Anyways, as your best friend- I’m telling you, you can’t pick sides.”

“Oh and where pray tell did you get that idea from?”

“The best friend rule book.”

You laughed. “Oh yeah, let’s whip that one out and crack it open, I’d love to read it!” You paused, turning to his mother with a soft smile. “I’m so sorry you have to witness this. He’s just a pain in my ass.”

Resting her chin in her hand, Mary returned the smile, still mildly amused at what was playing out in front of her. “I can tell. But I’m pretty sure he’s a pain in everyone’s butt.”

Deans mouth popped open in shock as his lips momentarily failed at trying to form words. “Now you’re taking her side too?!”

“I mean-“ you paused, flicking your hair over your shoulder. “I am fucking amazing. Plus, your mom just knows who the cooler person is out of the two of us-“

“Oh you little-“ dean growled, rolling up his sleeves after slapping his cards down on the table.

“Is this really necessary?” Cas muttered, eyes still on his cards and clearly trying to plan his next move.

“Oh you fuckin know it.”

“Maybe your mom should just adopt me. I could replace you! I am way more fun!” You laughed, backing up as Dean slowly rose from his seat. “Plus, you’re moms way more cool than you.” You joked, eyes lighting up when you looked at Dean and saw him moving towards you. You maneuvered around the table, the two of you moving back and forth as you tried to dodge Dean, trying to keep the table between you.

“You’re such an asshole!”

“You know it baby.” Shooting him a wink you ducked behind Sam's large frame, using him as a shield.

“Oh no- don’t go bringing me into this.” Sam tried, shaking his head as you gripped his shoulders.

“Just hold him off for me will ya?”

“And what do I get in return?”

“. . . the next time its your turn for a supply run, ill do it.”

A pause. “Deal.”

“Sam!”

The younger Winchester shrugged as he held out his arms, stopping Dean from reaching you. “What? Y/Ns more negotiable that you are.”

You let out a cackle before standing on your top toes to press a firm kiss to Sams cheek. “Thanks Samantha!”

You took off down the hallway before Dean could even attempt to move Sam. The younger Winchester continuing to block his brother as he tried to move past him. After a moment Dean gave up, falling back into his seat. “Alright, fine. I admit defeat. . .you can put your arms down..”

“If I do are you gonna go kill her?”

“. . . Maybe.”

“Dean!” Mary hissed, shaking her head at her sons antics.

“What? She’s a pain in the ass!”

Mary only shook her head again. That was until Cas spoke up again. “Am I supposed to say Uno?”

*. *. *. *. *. *.

The rest of the night became much calmer after that, you and Dean were back to your usual shenanigans and held up in the Dean cave watching some old western, Sam had headed off to bed because apparently you and Dean “drain his energy” Or whatever. Cas was for some reason still up cataloging some of the bunkers lore. As for mother Winchester, she found herself seated at the kitchen table, reading a book you had lent her a little over a week ago.

Mary almost didn’t see you walk in at first, with most of the lights still off it was like darkened hallway spit you out. Hands in the pockets of your sweatpants you quietly trudged into the room, pausing at the sight of Mary.

“You liking the book?”

Mary looked up, a small smile gracing her lips at the sight of you. “Yes I am, thank you for lending it to me.”

“No problem. Honestly it was just sitting on my desk collecting dust. I read it and never picked it up again” You admitted with a shrug. Walking past her, you filled your empty glass at the sink before moving back and lowering yourself into the seat across from her. “I’m sorry about earlier. Deans and Is energy can be a little overwhelming at times.”

“You don’t need to apologize. If anything I should be thanking you.” She closed her book, folding her arms over the surface of the table.

“What for?”

Mary let out a sigh. “Even if I haven’t been back for very long, it’s easy to see the effect you have on Dean. He’s happier when you're around, you get him to laugh more than anyone else here.”

“I think you're just seeing his slow decent into insanity.” You chuckled, looking down at your folded hands. “I’m told I have that effect on people.”

“Oh I don’t think that’s true.”

You opened your mouth to answer but stopped when you looked past Mary, eyebrow instantly raising. “What?”

Mary turned in her seat, her eyes finding her oldest son standing in the darkened doorway, your blue blanket wrapped around him. Dean narrowed his eyes at you. “You left me.”

“. . . I’m sorry?”

He stepped down into the kitchen, eyes still glazed over with a slight sleepiness. “It was rude.”

“You were asleep! I didn’t want to wake you up!” You threw your hands in the air, unable to believe the man sinking down into the vacant seat next to you. He yawned, his head falling against your shoulder as he closed his eyes.

“But by your didn’t have to leave me by myself. I woke up and you were gone.”

You rolled your eyes, hand coming up to pat the side of his head. “You poor baby, whatever shall you do now?”

“Mmm haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“Did you really just come in here to fall asleep on me again? Just go to bed Dean.”

“Don’t wanna.” He sighed, wrapping your blanket tighter around him.

“I swear you like a five year old.”

“I am not.”

“You totally are.” You paused. “But seriously Dean, go to bed. I ain’t dragging you down the hallway to your room when you fall asleep on me again.” You gave him another pat before standing up put your now empty glass in the sink, having practically chugged it moments before.

Groaning once more, Dean slowly blinked his eyes open and turned his attention to his mother. “What are you still doing up? I thought you went to bed.”

“Couldn’t sleep, thought I’d stay up and read instead. Y/N lent me a book to read.”

Turning his head to look between you and his mom he shook it in disbelief. “God, I live with a bunch of nerds.”

“Dean you can’t say anything about that. You're like the biggest nerd out of all of us.”

“. . . Shut up. Plus, you're no better. If anything I'm this way because of you.”

“Sure, Jan. You keep telling yourself that.”

Dean paused when he looked back over to his mom, seeing a soft smile on her features. “What?”

“Just the two of you-“

“What about the two of us?” He questioned, sliding the blanket off of his shoulders as he stood up before folding it and handing it back to its rightful owner.

“I just- I think you two would make a cute couple.”

There was a pause as the two of you looked at each other.

“Me? . . .And her?” Dean threw a thumb over his shoulder in your direction.

“Me and Dean?”

Another pause. And then a light laugh was bubbling up from both of your throats- before quickly turning into full bellied laughter. Dean had his hands planted on his knees and your head was thrown back as you grabbed at you gut. The two of you quickly dissolving into fits of hysteria. It went on for a good minute before starting to fizzle out.

Ahaha! Whew-“ Dean chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes as he stood up properly again. “That- that was good.”

“Oh god-“ you bent over, hands still on your sides. “My gut hurts- I haven’t laughed like that in awhile.” You panted.

“Yeah, thank you for that mom.” Dean patted his mother’s shoulder as he passed. “That just made my entire day.”

Once you had mostly regained your composure, you took a deep breath. “Okay, well as much fun as that was- I’m gonna go to bed. Goodnight Mary, Dean.” Giving gone last nod you stepped into the hallway along with Dean, the two of you connecting your palms in a loud high five before walking off in separate directions.

Meanwhile Mary sat silently at the table, the only thing running through her mind being what the fuck just happened?

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[word-scribbless]

Family part 1

This is my first Gibbs fic I’m posting! I intend to do more parts but I’m not there yet!

This is a gibbs x female reader it also includes an OC, Cori

Masterlist

Part 2

(Italics mean the character is signing. In most cases, they are speaking as well, except for Cori.)

———————

Gibbs and y/n had been seeing each other for the past 5 years. She was a linguistic specialist at the FBI who had consulted on several cases with NCIS. Gibbs would never tell Fornell, but he was beyond greatfull everyday that he brought y/N into his life.

Their relationship started off slow. Gibbs was a functional mute as usual, but Y/N had a way of reading him like no one else could. She understood that he would never stop loving Shannon, but helped him see that he didn’t have to stop loving his first wife in order to fall in love with her. Y/N understood all too well what losing someone felt like. Her fiancé had been killed during a deployment as a marine while she was deployed her self as an interpreter in the navy years ago. She had never felt the need to fall in love again until she met Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

After 3 years of dating they decided to officially move in together. Most of Y/N’s belongings had lived there anyway. So for the past 2 years they had been living together and were happier than either had been in a long time. The month before they had ended a long weekend trip together by getting married, just the 2 of them and a witness from the courthouse. They hadn’t told anyone yet, but it really wasn’t anyone’s business but theirs as far as they were concerned.

Y/N was sitting at her desk at the FBI working on finishing some paperwork when her phone rang.

“Y/L/N” she answered out of instinct without looking at the caller id

“Liar” she heard Gibbs say with a laugh, referring to her name being Y/N Y/L/N Gibbs now. She chuckled. “you busy?”

“Hey you! Sorry, instinct” she smiled “No I’m just finishing some paperwork, you need me?” She asked

“Yeah” Gibbs sighed. “I have a girl here, about 10, she won’t talk or let any males near her, but everytime she says no, she signs it.” He explained. “Our victim was her foster mom... so we need to talk to her but I’m the only one here that signs and she won’t let me near her. Ziva is sitting with her now but she’s not talking. I don’t wanna drag Abby out of the lab if I don’t have to.”

“I’ll be right there J. Let me just tell Fornell” Y/N said, already standing in front of her boss’s desk. “I knew I shouldn’t have introduced you to my best agent Gibbs” he yelled with a smile. “Get outta here”.

“Thanks boss, call if you need me.” She said as she left.

When Y/Ngot there she saw ziva sitting on the curb next to a little girl wrapped in a blanket with tears in her eyes. She walked over and approached slowly signing as she talked, even to ziva.

“Hey ziva.” She greeted before turning towards the young girl. “and hey there, I’m Y/N. Can I sit with you both?”

“Yes” the girl signed and mouthed back.

“Can you tell me your name sweetie?” Y/N asked

“Cori” she spelled “this is my name sign” she said making a signal for her name.

“This is ziva” Y/N sighed

“I know” cori responded “I can hear but not talk very loudly or too much. I was in an accident when I was younger. Can you tell her I said thank you for sitting with me?”

“Sure, would you be okay if I talked what you signed so we can all talk?” Y/n asked

Cori nodded. Y/n explained and ziva smiled “you’re welcome.” She said.

“I work for the FBI and ziva and her team work for NCIS, they’re like police but they help people who are in the navy like your foster mom.” Y/n explained.

“Do you guys have to ask me a ton of questions?” Cori asked.

“We’ll have to talk to you, but we want to make sure you feel safe too.” Ziva said.

“Ziva’s boss” y/n said before pointing over her shoulder at Gibbs talking to tony and McGee “Gibbs, the one with the silvery hair, he speaks sign language also. Would it be okay if he came and talked with us too?” She asked

Cori curled up a little bit signed “ he’s a good guy?”

” a very good guy” ziva said with a nod. Y/n added “yes! he used to be a marine and now he helps people as a NCIS agent.”

“You trust him?” Cori signed to Y/N.

“I married him” y/n laughed causing ziva to look at her with a raised eyebrow. “So yes, I trust him very much.”

This made Cori laugh and nod “okay I’ll talk to him.”

“Ziva can you go get Gibbs?” Yn asked

“Oh you mean you husband?” She questioned sassily

Y/n rolled her eyes “yeah him. I’ll tell you more about it later!”

Cori giggled “she didn’t know you were married?”

Y/n shook her head. “No. She knew we were together, but we got married by ourselves about a month ago” she said with a smile. “Gibbs is very nice, but not much of a sharer most of the time.” Cori nodded at this.

“Thank you Y/N” she whispers and signs causing Y/N to nod, happy that she trusts her enough to use her voice.

“Hi there Cori I’m Gibbs” Gibbs signed and said as he walked up to them and sat on the curb.

“Hi, I’m sorry I wouldn’t talk to you before.” Cori signed

“No need to apologize, I can look a little scary” he said, making both Cori and Y/N laugh slightly.

“Your wife says you’re really nice, I just haven’t known many nice men.” Cori admits with a sniffle.

Gibbs raises his eye brow to y/n at the word wife causing y/n to smirk shyly. His face softens at cori saying she didn’t know any nice men. He could only imagine the things this girl as gone through already.

Cori explains her story and what happened to her foster mom. She opens up to Gibbs quickly and is even okay when y/n has to step away to answer a call from Fornell.

“What’s going to happen to me?” Cori asked Gibbs. He is surprised to hear whisper her words as she signs them.

“Well let’s take one step at a time. You’ll come back to NCIS with us for now because we have some more questions and want to make sure your safe.” He explains.

“Okay” Cori nods

“It looks like y/n is probably going to have to go back to her work, would you like to ride back with ziva?” Gibbs asks

“Can you come with us please?” Cori signs, looking worried.

“Of course” he says.

Gibbs gets ziva set up in the car with Cori and goes to check in with Y/N before he drives them back to NCIS.

“Hey, you gotta get back?” Gibbs asks

“Yeah, Fornell has a case he needs an interpreter for and says it’s gotta be me. Will she be okay?”

“Yeah, she trusts me now. I’m gonna get her set up with Abby when we get back hopefully.” Gibbs explains.

“Alright, I’ll try to get back over as soon as I can. This has to be so scary for her.” Y/n said remembering what it felt like to lose her parents at a young age.

“She’ll be okay. She’s strong, I can tell because she reminds me of you.” He says rubbing her arm gently.

They usually didn’t do PDA but he could tell where her mind was.

Y/n smiled. “That explains why she trusts you then.” She says, making him smile.

“Alright I need to get back, but I should warn you that the whole team is gonna know we’re married by the time you get to head quarters. I’m sorry I just was trying to get Cori to trust you.” Y/n explained.

“That’s alright, I’m glad they’ll know. I hate not wearing my ring at work.” He said smirking “see you soon. Be safe.” He leaned in And kissed her cheek.

Y/N had been back at work for a few hours working on Fornell’s case when she stopped to call Gibbs.

“Yeah, Gibbs” he answered

“Hey me too” she joked back

“Hello Mrs. Gibbs” he said with a smile in his voice. “I was just about to call you after I talked to Abby”

“Mmm I love hearing you call me that. Need to call me back?”

“Nah I’m good, I need to talk to you about something important.” He said turning down a hall where he could be alone.

“Okay shoot”

“ Cori needs a place to stay while we work on her case. I talked to the social worker and she said that if we had the right clearances one of us could....”

“Yes. I’ll bring by the paperwork that proves I’m an emergency foster parent. Call the social worker and get yours started, don’t forget to tell her I have mine. It’ll make it easier.” Y/N quickly blurted. She had gotten emergency qualified when one of her nieces friend’s single parent had been admitted to the hospital.

“God, I love you!” He responded right away. In awe of how selfless his wife was.

“Ditto marine” she responded

“You’re positive this is okay?” He checked

“Yes! Ask cori her favorite color. I’ll take her shopping later, but she at least needs fresh sheets that are all her own. I’ll pick them up on the way home, and I’ll get the stuff to make my lasagna while I’m at it.”

“ I’m a lucky man” he answered

“Don’t you forget that” she laughed “I’m lucky too Jethro. I’ll see you at home okay?”

“Yup love you”

“Love you” she said hanging up the phone smiling at how amazing the man she loved was.