#grey´s haven

[nvd94]

Middle earth washi tape has been done ✅

[stickthisbig]

Currently sitting at 200,142 words above my previous record year (313,462 in 2012)

I need to be taken to a quiet room to lie down

[screampied]

you don’t really realize you’re growing old with satoru until you spot a grey tress inside the roots of your hair as you’re looking in the mirror. the thing about marriage and life itself was that time really doesn’t stop—for no one. as you entrap the lock between your fingers, you murmur out to satoru with a cheeky grin. “satoru baby, c’mere.”and as he’s lying in bed with a wrinkled nose, he reads some book titled ‘three men in a boat.’ as he flips a thick page, his cerulean blue reading glasses crook down the bridge of his nose before he turns his attention toward you.

“yesss, honey?” he rubs his eyes, bringing a palm up to his growing stubble. as he got older, you noticed how he moved a bit slower. satoru was still fit as he aged, but he’d have a bit of a waddle whenever he walked. it was cute—how his limbs were getting more and more fragile, but he was still labeled as the strongest despite his inevitable aging.

he makes his way behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. the two of you make eye contact through the mirror that reflects you both, a happy married couple. “look, we’re finally matching now,” and his face softens once you bring the silvery colored strand up to his view. ‘matching,’ because his hair was naturally a snowy white . . almost similar to the strand of hair you just showed him.

although as the years progressed, satoru was growing ashen grey streaks too.

“i guess we are,” he replied in a gentle tone, his hands remaining on your hips. satoru’s touch was always gentle and ginger. he presses his lips near the back of your nape before letting off a soft sigh. “you’d look pretty with white hair, actually.”

“prettier than you?” you hum, glancing at him through the mirror. satoru towers over you as he holds you, the band of his wedding ring grazing against your hip.

again, you watch as the corners of his lips crease into a smile. a toothy genuine one where his dimples show.

“haha, veeeery funny,” and as he buries his face into your neck, he deeply ponders to himself for a moment.

to think . . how much time has passed, out of all the countless tiresome battles he’s had to face—

all those years at trying to keep the world safe and now, he could finally relax. having his arms around you gave him a peace of mind, and in the end it was all worth it because at the end of the day, satoru gojo—the strongest, came back to you. you were his personal safe haven and he was yours.

“but honeyyy,” he yawns with rosy pouty lips, shifting his chin up to rest against your left shoulder. satoru starts leading you toward your side of the bed. “ ‘s pretty late, let’s getcha back to bed, hm?”

“okay,” you mumble, already feeling your eyes starting to get heavy again. satoru’s still got his burly arms wrapped around your waist as he leisurely guides you back to bed. he was clingy, and that never changed. satoru gojo’s always been clingy ever since the two of you met. as he pulls down the cover for you to enter, you crawl back in and he gets beside you.

satoru slings an arm around you, pulling you close as his hooded eyes starts a staring contest with the swaying wooden ceiling fan.

it’s moving slow. . just like time was.

whenever he was with you, it felt as if time stood still. and as the both of you cuddled against each other with your head resting against his beating heart, he sighs. it’s a content happy sigh, and satoru’s hands find their way near the top of your head. his thin fingers maze it’s way near your soft grey growing strand before he leans in, giving the crown of your head a goodnight kiss. “mwah,” and he watches as your eyes briefly widen before glancing away, growing sheepish. “get some rest, my love. i’ll be here when you wake up. promise.”

you nod, too drowsy to reply and he pulls you closer. satoru’s heartbeat was steady and slow, and each pulse that bested against your ear made you felt more and more protected. as he holds you firm and close, a hand of his softly caresses your forehead—brushing against the soft hairs that cling onto your skin.

as your breathing starts to relax and your eyelids finally close, he realizes you finally drifted off to sleep. satoru exhales lowly, almost forgetting to take off his reading glasses. as he places them near the nightstand, he lies back down, giving your sleeping state once last glance.

“i love you,” he whispers against your ear before reaching for the pearled lamp switch. “so much.”your head nuzzles against his chest and he assumes that was your non-verbal way of saying it back, even in your sleep. cute.

the only sounds that could be heard were the faint tick tocking of the grandfather clock that stood near the hallway and your soft breathing as you deeply slept. satoru feels a smile tugging against his glossed lips yet again, but this time it’s different . .

it’s not the same smile from when you showed him that you were graying, it was a more genuine smile that was satisfied at everything—primarily at life. satoru’s long crystalline lashes gradually flap shut as he smiles to himself, a thumb brushing against your forehead. all those battles was worth it in the end, because right now, he’s at the only place he wanted to be . . with you.

life wasn’t a competition, but satoru finally felt at peace, true peace—and that peace was being in your presence. he wasn’t one for believing in good endings, but maybe this particular one wasn’t so bad.

“i . . won.”

[ace-turned-confused]

spin me around | joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist | read on ao3

summary: you find a vintage record store full of rare finds, the man behind the counter the rarest of them all word count: 2,4k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied & wears a dress, way too much music talk, food & alcohol consumption, pet names, touching in public, dirty talk a/n: written for @secretelephanttattoo's Secret Springs challenge! i saw record store on your wheel and ran away with it - this is highly self-indulgent with the music references (like woah) but what better place for it than secret springs :) not beta'd, keep slaying

The stair treads creak as you head up to the second floor, blank CDs are fastened to the risers and old warped vinyl hangs from the ceiling. A faint melody floats down the stairwell that you don’t recognise, the instrumentals rising in a crescendo as you climb, the varnished railing worn and knotted.

You’d found this place online on your quest for a bargain, the secondhand vintage vinyl shop is situated on a fashionable street at the top of town with picturesque mountain views. After stalking their social media pages, you decided you’d just come and see it for yourself. Having mentally prepared yourself for parallel parking, it was unusually stress-free for a Saturday morning, the sun just beginning to warm the air.

Reaching the landing and glancing around, the room is essentially wallpapered with band posters, crates and crates of records are alphabetically organised, and a gallery of LPs sits on shelves behind the counter. A few customers are rifling through the various collections, one man perched on a barstool with headphones wired into a cassette player. The space is light and vibrant, it feels like a sacred haven.

What really catches your eye is the man behind the counter — unruly silver-streaked hair, trimmed moustache and greying beard, unreasonably broad shoulders that fill out his faded thin t-shirt.

“Mornin’!” He looks up as you round the bannister and flashes you a winning smile, his brown eyes sparkling in the light filtering through the windows. “Anythin’ in particular you lookin’ for?”

You greet him shyly as you enter the room, “Just came to look around, thanks.”

“No problem.” He turns back to his newspaper and you can’t help but stare, stuck in place as you think you’ve found far more than you could’ve imagined.

-

The sheer number of records fitted into the quaint shop is amazing, with some dividers spilling over into two or three boxes. Flipping through the S category, you find Sade, Stealers Wheel, Steppenwolf, Stevie Nicks, and countless others — a never-ending supply of artists and albums, some popular and some obscure.

Your eyes go wide at seeing Pretzel Logic, a favourite album by a favourite band. You’ve considered for weeks whether or not to just buy the damn thing online at full price, but you never did. Now you see why, some sort of divine intervention leading you here to snatch it up at a fraction of the cost — or it led you here for that man.

You’ve been peering over to him every time you move to the next crate — crinkles around his eyes, plush lips, deft hands. It’s almost unfair how beautiful he is, hidden away up here from the rest of the world. Admittedly you tried looking if he had a wedding band on, but you scolded yourself before you could complete the task, not wanting to get caught.

Time slips away from you as you switch between scouring through everything and stealing glances at the mystery music man, your fingers cramping from holding onto far more records than you’d planned to take. You scan over the tables and check for anything you may have missed, slinking through the room and placing your selection on the counter. You rummage in your bag to find your wallet.

“Fan of Steely Dan, huh? Gaucho, Pretzel Logic, Countdown to Ecstasy… You’re cleaning me out here, darlin’.” You lift your head at his words, losing yourself at the endearment.

“Yeah, uh… couldn't help myself,” you huff a laugh, feeling heat under your skin as he keeps his attention on you, a half smile on his face. “I did pick out some others, too. For some variation, you know?”

He fans the records out on the table to see each one.

“Yeah, thought you might be a Fleetwood Mac girl, Eagles is a bit of a surprise, but a pleasant one… Steely Dan, though? Wouldn't have pinned a girl like you as a fan of ‘em.”

“A girl like me…?”

“Far too pretty.” He winks at you with a tilt of his head, that half smile now spread fully across his face before he moves to add up the total. Your mind races as you try not to stand and gawk like an idiot.

“I saw online you had Dark Side of the Moon… do you uh, still have it, by any chance?”

“Full of surprises… I’m afraid we sold that one already, noticed it’s a bit of an elusive find ‘round here.” He drums his fingers against the wooden top and looks at you briefly, his eyes warm.

Shuffling papers around, he picks up a notepad, big hands and thick fingers dwarfing the pages. “I can keep an eye out for you, if you’re okay giving me your number? Won’t bother you, just business.”

“Yeah, sure.” His fingers graze across your skin as you take a pen from him and write down your information. Tearing the page off, you slide it across the counter and tease him, “Wouldn’t mind if you bothered me.”

“Well then, maybe I will. I’d love to know what else you got in your carefully curated collection.” He doesn’t take his eyes off you as you pay for the records, and he slips them into a brown paper bag, folding and unfolding the top like he doesn’t want you to leave.

“There’s actually this nice restaurant—” he turns to look behind him, grabbing a small carton and repositioning it on the counter, stalling as he tries to find the words, “—they have uh, live music on Friday nights… if you’d be interested.”

“Sounds fun…” You mull it over, impressed by his boldness but still wary. “Can I let you know?”

“‘Course, no pressure, here,” he writes his own number on a new page and tears it off, holding on as you reach for it and brush your fingers over his hand.

“And you are?”

“Joel Miller.”

Joel Miller. You quite like that.

-

You’d stared at Joel’s number for days, a constant back and forth on whether or not you should go. On the one hand, you knew nothing about this man except his name and where he worked; on the other, you’ve seen just enough of him to be well intrigued… 

You caved and said yes, which brings you to the present day — it’s Friday afternoon and you’re pacing in front of your wardrobe, worried about what to wear. To avoid losing your mind over this, you text Joel for some insight.

You: So, what am I supposed to wear tonight?Joel: Place is smart casual, I guess

Smart casual — arguably the worst fucking dress code description in existence.

You: That doesn’t help meJoel: Just wear a dress or something nice? I’m sure whatever you choose will be perfect

Perfect? Well, that certainly raises the bar. You suspect that Joel isn’t impressed by material things, and isn’t phased by flashy appearances, but you still want to make an effort. He called you pretty once already and you’re hoping he’ll repeat it tonight.

-

Approaching the restaurant, the brick wall facade is lined with fairy lights, the stars just beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky, and muffled music sounds through the windows and glass doors.

Joel waits out on the pavement like a gift from God himself — black dress pants, a hint of chest peeking out from behind his button-up, a blazer hooked on one finger over his shoulder. You can’t help the way your gaze runs over him, noticing how his tummy just pokes out past the waistband of his pants, and just how well fitting those pants really are. You swallow to steady yourself.

“Hey.”

“Hi…”

You fall into silence as you take each other in — a low heat settles at the base of your spine and you drop your eyes to the floor, holding back a giggle like an enamoured schoolgirl.

“Shall we?” He pulls the door open and gestures for you to lead the way, eyes sparkling and a crooked but warm smile on his face, a guiding hand on the small of your back as you step inside.

Black-framed minimalist posters line the walls, the floors are polished dark wood and exposed brass light fixtures hang at varying heights from the ceiling. You pass a long, elegant bar lining one side of the room as you’re led towards the back of the restaurant — this place oozes sophistication, even the waitstaff are in fancy uniforms. Not smart casual.

Joel pulls a chair out for you as you reach your table, a small reserved card rests against a floating candle and two red roses bloom in a slender vase. 

“Do you mind if I take the wall?” you ask timidly, pointing towards the opposite bench.

“Not at all.” His gaze is soft as he shakes his head, eyes trained on you as you both take your seats.

“I just— I like being able to see, it’s uh…”

You smooth your hands over the tablecloth as your voice fades off, resisting the urge to make a game of blowing the candle out. You flit your eyes up to look at Joel, finding he’s already staring at you, candlelight flickering in his eyes. You drop your gaze to the table again, failing dismally at suppressing the grin that spreads across your face.

“You look gorgeous, by the way — if you don’t mind me sayin’. Knew you would, of course, but…”

It seems your outfit choice has paid off — gorgeous?

After hours of flinging clothes off hangers, you’d finally settled on a black, mid-length dress — a sweetheart neckline with white piping, the same white mirrored on the hem, a daring slit up one side of the skirt. There’s nothing casual about it, but seeing Joel dressed up and the finely decorated restaurant has calmed your nerves.

You don’t dare look at him again as the waiter returns and places two menus on the table. The night’s barely begun, and you hope it doesn’t end any time soon.

-

There hasn’t been a lull in the conversation once during dinner, a sharing dessert now in the centre of the table as Joel swirls what’s left of his whiskey around the glass. He held back all evening, fingers twitching and curling into a loose fist alongside yours on the table until he finally allowed himself to dance them across the back of your hand.

“How’d you get into all this record business?”

“Started workin’ there on weekends as a kid, wanted to earn some pocket money. The old man who owned it was like a mentor, he taught me all about the world. He left it all in my hands when he retired, and I’ve never looked back.”

A fond smile on his face as he retells his memories, you saw the first day you met how happy and comfortable he was in his charming shop, and it seems that charm bleeds over into him, too.

“And you get to meet all kinds of people — loud, friendly, aloof… pretty ones, too.” He gives you the same wink and devilish grin as before, continuing his stories as if you aren’t burning across the table.

-

Sometime during the night, he’d moved to sit next to you, claiming he ‘wanted to see the band’ — the arm draped on the bench behind you and fingers trailing across your shoulder says otherwise.

He mentioned at the shop that there was live music here on Friday nights — the one thing he didn’t mention? That tonight’s particular band was a jazz quartet — the slow, smooth, romantic kind of jazz, the kind that acts as the perfect backdrop for a night of cheeky flirting, lingering glances and desperate touches.

“Joel, can I ask something?”

“Shoot.”

You roll the edge of the tablecloth between your fingers. “Is this a date?”

“It can be, if you want.” You drop your hands and eye him, unimpressed by his response.

“Alright, I’ll admit, I was hopin’ for a date. I wasn’t really sure how to ask, didn’t wanna come on too strong.”

You’re silent for a beat, considering how to respond. “I mean, you could’ve just asked.”

“Well then, you wanna go on a date?” He tilts his head, eyebrows raised.

“I thought we were already on one.”

He chuckles at your remark, downing the last of his whiskey and momentarily tracing a finger along the rim of the glass. You focus on his movements, imagining his fingers tracing patterns into your skin instead.

As if he can read your mind, he twists himself towards you and plants that same hand just above your knee, fingers curled towards the inside of your leg as he scrapes his nails against you.

“And?” His voice is almost a whisper in your ear, “Has it been a good one?”

He glides his hand up your leg and into the slit of your dress as you nod, higher, higher, higher until his fingers brush against lace. You wonder if he can feel the fabric dampening.

“Y’know the Pink Floyd you asked about? It wasn’t sold, I kept it for myself. I’ll play it for you sometime.”

“You’re gonna talk about music? Right now?”

“What should I talk about instead? The delicate panties you got on? How wet they’re getting?”

Your breath hitches as he shifts his fingers, tucking them just under the edge of your panties and caressing your skin. Glancing around, the band are still playing low and slow, most tables having cleared out by now.

“Would love to see ‘em, if you’ll let me. I’d really love to see what’s underneath though. Pretty girl like you’s bound to have a real pretty pussy, too. Certainly feels like it, Jesus.”

He presses his fingers into you with more force this time and you turn your head to him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide and not from the dim lighting. He glances down to your lips and back up to your eyes again and you close the distance between you. He repositions the arm around your shoulders, hand holding the back of your neck as you lock your legs together and grind yourself against him.

His lips are soft, beard and moustache tickling your skin as he swipes his tongue against the seam of your mouth. You moan into him as you part your lips, letting him lick into you and you can taste his whiskey. He pulls back and you whine, teasing you with just enough to leave you reeling for more.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Take me home, Joel. Please, I need you.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Wanna hear the music you can make.”

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[camille-lachenille]

I was thinking about how, in fanfictions and in the fandom in general, Elrond is often depicted as a pure Noldorin lord, if not a die hard Fëanorian. And while I do enjoy Fëanorian!Elrond, the more I think about it the more I am convinced Elrond is not the fëanorian one of the twins. Elros is. Elros who adopted seven eight pointed stars as the heraldic device of his whole dynasty, a symbol still used 6000 years after his death. Elros who had Quenya be the official language of Númenor. Elros who decided to leave Arda for an unknown fate after his death; not Everlasting Darkness but not the rebirth in the bliss of Valinor either. He choose to go to a place Elves aren’t supposed to go, just like Fëanor and his sons went back to Beleriand. Elros, the mortal man, who decided to forge his own path in the world.

And I am not saying Elrond didn’t, because Eru knows how much strength, patience and stubbornness Elrond must have to become who he is in LotR. But when I first re-read LotR after reading the Silm, he did not strike me as Fëanorian at all (except for the no oath swearing rule that seems to apply in Rvendell). In fact, Elrond, and all three of his children, are defined by being half-Elven. Elrond is so much at the same time they had to creat a whole new category for him. He is described as kind as summer in The Hobbit, but also old and wise, and his friendly banter with Bilbo in FotR show he is also merry and full of humour. Elrond is both Elf and Man despite his immortality, and this is made quite clear in the text.

But. If I had to link him to an Elven clan, I’d say Elrond is more Sinda than Noldor, and even that is up to debate. Rivendell, this enchanting valley hidden from evil thanks to his power, is like a kinder version of Doriath. Yet, the name of Last Homely House and Elrond’s boundless hospitality make me think of Sirion: Rivendell is a place where lost souls can find s home, where multiple cultures live along each other in friendship and peace.

In FotR, Elrond introduces himself as the son of Eärendil and Elwing, claiming both his lineages instead of giving only his father’s name as is tradition amongst the Elves. It may be a political move, or it may be a genuine wish to claim his duality, his otherness, or even both at the same time. But from what is shown of Elrond in LotR, he seems to lean heavily in the symbols and heritage from the Sindar side of his family, rather than the Noldor one. I already gave the comparison with Doriath, but it seems history repeats itself as Arwen, said to be Lúthien reborn, chooses a mortal life. Yet Elrond doesn’t make the same mistake as Thingol by locking his daughter in a tower and sending her suitor to a deathly quest. Yes, he asks Aragorn to first reclaim the throne of Gondor before marrying Arwen, but this isn’t a whim on his part or an impossible challenge. Aragorn becoming king means that Middle-Earth is free from the shadow if Sauron and Arwen will live in peace and happiness. Which sounds like a reasonable wish for a parent to me.

Anyways, I went on a tangent, what strikes me with Elrond is his multiple identity. Elrond certainly has habits or traits coming from his upbringing amongst the Fëanorians, and he loved Maglor despite everything. The fact he is a skilled Minstrel shows he did learn and cultivate skills taught by a Fëanorion, that he is not rejecting them. There is a passage at the end of RotK, in the Grey Havens chapter, where Elrond is described carrying a silver harp. Is this a last relic from Maglor? Possible.

But while Elros choose the path of mortality and showed clear Noldorin influences in the kingdom he built, Elrond is happy in his undefined zone he lives in. He is an Elf, he is a Man, he is Sinda and Noldo and heir to half a dozen lost cultures and two crowns. He is the warrior and the healer, the only one of his kind in Middle-Earth. And that is why I will never tire of this character and I love so much fanworks depicting him as nuanced and multiple yet always recognisable as Elrond.

[ladyoflindon]

Stressful Night (Ereinion Gil-galad, Rings of Power)

Author’s note: Itarille Peredhel is Gil-galad’s queen, and she’s Elrond’s sister. In this story, she’s bothered by a lot more work than usual, a much heavier workload. Gil is the supportive and affectionate husband behind closed doors, a comfort for her. (“Q.”  is meant to denote the use of Quenya, while “S.” denotes the use of Sindarin)

TW: Blood (from a paper cut wound)

Sighing internally, Itarille picked up her quill for the umpteenth time that day and signed the proffered document with a flourish. “Send it to King Oropher,” she spoke, exhaustion evident in her voice. “Make it hasty, or I’ll be receiving a host of complaints from the Greenwood again.”

“Yes, High Queen,” the messenger nodded before dashing out of the room, his feet barely making any sound. For that, at least, Itarille was thankul. She turned her attention to the next document, smiling as she read the elegant script. At least this one was from Elrond, about some matters he’d noticed while going about his duties as Herald of Lindon. She set it aside, deciding that it would be better to allow the High King to read about it as well before passing judgement.

Ah. The High King. Itarille had been so busy that she hadn’t been able to spend time with her husband the entire day, save for breakfast. He had headed out to the Grey Havens to speak with Círdan the Shipwright, and was absent from the palace for most of the day. He’d only recently returned, and from what his assistant, Estedir, had told her, the High King was thoroughly wiped out. She had spent her day taking up his duties at the palace, in addition to her own.

Smiling wryly, Itarille reached for another document. As she reached out to grab it, a sharp pain shot up the tip of her finger. Hissing, Itarille pulled her hand away, only to find a bleeding paper cut. Biting her lip to prevent herself from crying out in frustration, Itarille decided to look for the first aid kit. Alas, she’d forgotten to bring it back to her study after using it a few weeks ago.

She had had enough. With the mounting pile of documents on her desk, and the concern that Oropher of the Greenwood would have another complaint about her reply to him, Itarille had been driven mad. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of what exactly she was feeling at the moment. She stood up from her chair and told the guard standing outside the door that she would be leaving the night. With a respectful murmur of “High Queen” from the guard, Itarille strode briskly down the hallway, the hem of her gown trailing behind her.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the quarters she shared with her beloved High King. She stepped inside, cautious of remaining silent in case he was asleep. She had assumed he was asleep, and the sight of him standing by the window, staring at the starry sky above surprised her.

“Melda (Q. beloved),” Ereinion’s smooth voice called out. He walked towards her, intending to give her a kiss. His attention, however, was drawn to the drop of blood falling from the tip of her finger and dripping against the marble floors. It was soft, but he heard the sound as the drop made contact with the marble. “What happened?”

“Paper cut,” Itarille huffed. “I need a bath, can we discuss this later?” Ereinion was taken aback by the intensity in her voice. She shot him a brief glare before heading to her closet to grab a robe and walking to the adjacent chamber to take a bath.

When Itarille emerged, she was clothed in a white nightgown. In Ereinion’s opinion, a vision, like Varda herself. He rose from their shared bed, reaching out towards her to grasp her hand. “You’ve dealt with the wound, I see,” he spoke glancing briefly at the bandage on her finger.”

“I have,” Itarille said. “Can we go to bed now? I’m exhausted. It’s been such a long day.”

Ereinion was about to nod, when he saw the look in her eyes. It was one he hated seeing, the look of utter defeat. “What happened today, my starlight?” He murmured, gently easing her into bed and pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“I prefer not to talk about it.” Itarille sniffed. Ereinion almost laughed out loud internally; he knew his wife was a hypocrite when it came to matters like this. Sooner or later, everything would spill forth from her perfect lips.

“You know, Oropher sent another message today. He wanted me to sign it and send it back to the Greenwood the same day it arrived,” she said. “And your courtiers, they just won’t get off my back. Insufferable, the lot of them!”

Ereinion allowed himself a small chuckle. “Ah, but you’ve been handling it with such grace, my darling. Isn’t that right?”

“That’s an understatement,” she replied huffily. “There, I’ve told you everything. Can we go to bed now?”

The High King smiled briefly, lying back in bed and opening his arms to her. Itarille snuggled up to him, her head on his chest. She heard the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as she traced her fingers along his arm. “Yes, we can, my love,” Ereinion leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “You’ve done so much for me today, helping to take over my palace duties. I cannot thank you enough.”

Itarille’s patience was almost worn out. “Thank me by sealing your lips shut and letting me get some sleep. Shh!” The High King smirked. “You want to shut me up? Why don’t you do it yourself?”

There was a daring gleam in his eyes. Itarille knew exactly what he wanted, but her need for sleep was more pressing. She picked up a pillow and threw it at his face. “Goodnight, High King. Go to bed.” The last thing she recalled hearing before drifting into slumber was the soft laughter of Ereinion.

Her silly High King.

Author's note: Wow, churning out two fics in one day! I'm pleasantly surprised, but Elrond and Gil-galad are my comfort elves.

[novaursa]

heyy

Can you make a Jace x twin sister x aemond

She was very close with aemond when she was younger coz she didn’t have any dragon. And she was even engaged to him but after he loses his eyes their engagement went off.

She still had feeling for him and they often exchanged mail but Rhaenyra chooses to married Jace with her.

time pass she is now with Jace, but when her grandfather died she was sent with her brother Luke, aemond see her and want her for himself again.

he chase her in the sky (obsession like not to arm her) and he almost kill her but he rescue her just in time.

Aemond took her to king’s landing to be with him, and when Jace know he become furious

Stormbound

- Summary: You and Aemond were promised to one another since childhood. And when Aemond lost an eye, he also lost you. But the dragon doesn't deal with absolutes.

- Paring: Aemond Targaryen/velaryon!reader/Jacaerys Targaryen

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top. The requests are closed!

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 7 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: I've bonded reader with Grey Ghost, so this plot makes more sense. Also, Lord Borros can read in this one.

The sea breeze carries the scent of salt and wildflowers as you wander through the gardens of Driftmark. Though it was a somber day—a funeral of your aunt Lady Laena Velaryon. You walk beside Aemond, the soft grass beneath your feet muffling your steps. Though just children, you feel the weight of your family's history and the expectations placed upon you. The lush gardens are a refuge, a place where you and Aemond can escape the ever-watchful eyes of your elders.

Aemond’s hand brushes against yours, his fingers briefly lingering before he pulls away, his cheeks flushing with a hint of pink. You glance at him, noticing the way his silver hair catches the sunlight, shimmering like the scales of the dragons you both so desperately wish to ride. But neither of you has yet bonded with one. It's a shared pain, a bond that sets you apart from the other Targaryen children.

"I will have a dragon one day," Aemond declares, his voice full of determination. He always speaks with such confidence, as if trying to convince himself as much as you. "And when I do, I will take you flying above the clouds, where no one can reach us."

You smile at the thought, imagining the two of you soaring through the skies together, free from the burdens of your families and the complex web of alliances and rivalries that bind you. "And what if I get my dragon first?" you tease, nudging him gently with your shoulder.

Aemond's expression softens as he meets your gaze. "Then you will take me with you, won't you? We could fly to the ends of the world, just you and me."

The wind rustles the leaves around you, creating a soft, whispering sound, as if the garden itself is urging you closer to each other. You feel a warmth in your chest, a comfort that only Aemond seems to bring you. You've known him all your life, and though the world outside may be full of uncertainty, when you're with him, everything seems to make sense.

You reach a secluded spot, hidden away from the rest of the world, where the flowers bloom in vibrant colors, and the trees form a natural canopy above. Here, in this little haven, you can be just children, free from the expectations of your titles.

Aemond stops suddenly and turns to you, his expression serious. His violet eyes bore into yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch. "Do you know why I spend so much time with you?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tilt your head, curious. "Because we are friends," you reply, though you sense there is something more he wants to say.

"Yes, we are," he agrees, taking a step closer. "But it's more than that. You are... you're my future."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you feel a strange flutter in your chest, one that you haven't felt before. "What do you mean, Aemond?" you ask, your voice wavering slightly.

He takes a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to say what has been on his mind for a long time. "My father and your grandsire, King Viserys, spoke to me not long ago. He told me that I am to marry you one day. Our families have agreed upon it. He said that when we're older, we will be wed."

The revelation leaves you momentarily speechless. You knew that your future would likely involve a political marriage, but to hear that it had already been decided—and to Aemond, of all people—feels both overwhelming and strangely comforting.

Aemond reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours again, but this time, he doesn’t pull away. "I know we're still young, and maybe you don't think about such things yet," he continues, his voice soft and earnest. "But I want you to know that I look forward to it. Being with you, as your husband. Protecting you. Caring for you. I want to make you happy, as you make me."

You stare at him, trying to process his words. Aemond has always been there for you, a constant presence in your life, and the thought of him as your husband... it doesn’t frighten you as much as you thought it might. In fact, it feels right, as if it were meant to be.

"And you," he adds, his voice trembling slightly with emotion, "you will be my wife."

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, and you duck your head to hide it, but Aemond gently lifts your chin, his touch tender. "You don't have to say anything now," he assures you. "I just wanted you to know. So that you never have to wonder where you stand with me."

You nod, your throat tight with emotions you don't quite understand. "I... I don't know what to say, Aemond. But I do know that you're important to me. You always have been."

Aemond smiles then, a genuine smile that lights up his face in a way that you rarely see. "That's all I needed to hear."

For a moment, the world fades away, leaving just the two of you in this hidden corner of the garden. As you stand there, hand in hand, you know that your bond will only grow stronger with time.

The sound of distant laughter breaks the moment, and you both turn to see Jacaerys running towards you, his smile wide and carefree. He calls your name, beckoning you to join him, and for now, you allow yourself to be a child once more, running through the gardens with your brother and Aemond.

But in the back of your mind, you carry Aemond’s words with you, feeling a small spark of excitement for the life you will one day share with him.

The journey back to Dragonstone feels longer than usual, the silence within the ship heavy and suffocating. The waves crash against the hull, the only sound breaking the stillness, but even that seems muted, as if the sea itself is mourning the events at Driftmark. You sit in your small cabin, your fingers tracing the edge of a folded letter hidden within the folds of your dress, close to your heart. It’s from Aemond, a hastily written note slipped to you in the chaos after the fight. His words are brief, but they carry the weight of all that was left unsaid between you.

"I did what I had to. I hope you can understand one day. I still care for you."

You read the letter again and again, memorizing the loops and slashes of his handwriting, the way his words seem to tremble with emotion. But each time you read it, the image of Aemond’s face, twisted in pain and anger as he lost his eye, looms larger in your mind. The boy who once held your hand so tenderly now seems like a distant memory, replaced by someone hardened by the cruelty of your shared world.

A knock on the cabin door startles you, and you quickly shove the letter deeper into your dress, your heart racing. When you open the door, you find Jace standing there, his expression a mix of concern and something else you can’t quite place—something heavier, more burdensome.

"Mother wants us," he says simply, his voice strained. There’s no need for more words; you know what this summons means. It’s time to discuss what happened, to face the reality of the fractured alliance between your families.

You follow Jace up to the deck, where your mother, Rhaenyra, and Daemon stand together, their figures silhouetted against the stormy sky. The clouds above Dragonstone are dark, reflecting the mood of the conversation that’s about to unfold. Your brothers are gathered around, their faces drawn and serious.

As you approach, you catch the tail end of a heated exchange between your mother and Daemon.

"Alicent has gone too far this time," Rhaenyra hisses, her voice sharp with anger. "Breaking the engagement without even consulting us—after all the promises made!"

Daemon scoffs, his expression cold and calculating. "She was always going to break it, Rhaenyra. Especially after what happened with Aemond. It’s better this way. That boy is dangerous, and his ambitions will only grow."

Your heart clenches at Daemon’s words. Dangerous? Perhaps, but Aemond is still the boy you grew up with, the one who spoke of your future together with such hope. And yet, as you recall the events at Driftmark, you can’t help but feel a pang of fear. Aemond had changed in that moment, his desperation leading him to claim Vhagar and then fight with your brothers. You know that things can never be the same between your families, but does that mean your bond with Aemond must be severed as well?

Rhaenyra’s gaze shifts to you and Jace, her eyes softening for a moment as she looks at the two of you, standing side by side as you have so many times before. There’s a deep sadness in her eyes, a weariness that seems to have settled into her bones.

"It should have been different," she murmurs, almost to herself. "But now we must think of what’s best for our family. For the realm."

You and Jace exchange a glance, both of you sensing that something significant is about to be said. Rhaenyra’s grip tightens on the railing of the ship, her knuckles white, as she turns fully to face you.

"The bonds between our families have been strained to the breaking point," she begins, her voice steady but filled with sorrow. "Alicent’s actions have shown that she no longer honors the agreements made your grandsire. The betrothal between you and Aemond is no more. It’s been annulled."

Your breath catches in your throat, though you knew this was coming. Hearing the words aloud feels like a blow to the chest. You instinctively touch the hidden letter in your dress, as if seeking some comfort from Aemond’s words. But your mother’s next words leave you reeling.

"To strengthen our house, and to protect our claim, I have decided that you and Jace will marry. It is what should have been from the start. It’s what’s best for all of us."

Jace stiffens beside you, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. You feel the world tilt beneath your feet as you try to process what your mother has just said. Marry Jace? Your twin, your closest confidant? The idea feels foreign and unnatural, even though you’ve always known that your future would be tied to political alliances.

Daemon steps forward, placing a hand on Rhaenyra’s shoulder in a rare gesture of solidarity. "It’s the right move, Rhaenyra. The Hightowers have shown their hand, and we must be ready to counter them. A marriage between the two of them will solidify our position and keep our enemies at bay."

"But—" you begin, your voice trembling. "Jace is my brother. We’ve never... I never thought..."

Rhaenyra’s expression softens as she takes a step closer to you. "I know, my dear. I know this is difficult. But we must think of the greater good. The two of you are the future of our house, and together, you will be stronger. We cannot afford any more divisions, not now."

Jace finally finds his voice, though it’s thick with emotion. "Mother, is this truly necessary? I would do anything for our family, but to marry my sister... it feels... wrong."

Rhaenyra’s eyes flash with determination. "You are not just brother and sister, Jace. You are heirs to the Iron Throne. And in our family, such unions have always been a way to keep the bloodline pure and our claim uncontested. You must trust me in this."

You look at Jace, seeing your own turmoil reflected in his eyes. You have always been close, sharing everything, but marriage? It feels like a betrayal of the bond you shared, something that could change the dynamic between you forever.

Daemon’s voice cuts through the tension, his tone commanding. "This is not just about love or comfort. This is about power, about survival. The Hightowers will stop at nothing to see their line on the throne. We must be prepared to meet them with equal strength."

Rhaenyra nods, her resolve hardening. "Jace, Y/N, you must do this. For the sake of our house, for the legacy of our ancestors. You are the future, and together, you can secure it."

There’s a long silence as the weight of her words settles over you both. You can feel the eyes of your younger brothers on you, their innocent faces not yet fully understanding the gravity of what’s being decided. You feel torn between duty and the remnants of your childhood dreams—the promise of a future with Aemond, now shattered, and the new path being forced upon you.

Finally, Jace speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. "If it is what must be done, then I will do it."

His words hang in the air, final and resolute, and you know that there’s no turning back now. Your mother’s expression softens, and she reaches out to touch your cheek gently.

"You are stronger than you know," she says, her voice filled with a mixture of pride and sorrow. "And together, you and Jace will be unstoppable."

You nod, though your heart is heavy, and as the ship finally docks at Dragonstone, you feel the weight of the future pressing down on you. The letter from Aemond still burns against your skin, a reminder of what might have been, but as you step onto the rocky shores of your ancestral home, you know that you must let go of that dream.

The path before you is set, and though it’s not the one you envisioned, you will walk it with your head held high, just as your mother taught you.

The air over Dragonstone is foreboding, filled with the weight of a war that has not yet begun but feels inevitable. The sky is a dull gray, heavy with the promise of rain. You stand on the edge of the cliff, the sea crashing against the rocks far below, the salty spray mingling with the mist. Beside you, Grey Ghost shifts restlessly, the massive dragon sensing your unease. His pale scales shimmer like ghostly silver in the dim light, his deep rumbling breaths a comfort in the otherwise oppressive atmosphere.

Your mother’s words still echo in your mind: "You must go to Storm’s End with your brother. Deliver our message to Lord Borros Baratheon and secure his allegiance. We cannot afford to lose the Stormlands."

You turn to your brother, Luke, who stands a few paces away, his face a mask of determination. He is trying to be brave, trying to embody the strength that your mother has instilled in all of you, but you can see the fear in his eyes. He is still so young, and the thought of him facing whatever awaits at Storm’s End fills you with a dread you cannot shake.

Before you can speak to him, you feel a presence at your side. Jacaerys, your twin, your closest companion in all things, steps close to you. His dragon, Vermax, waits nearby, his golden eyes watching you both with an intelligence that never fails to unsettle you.

"Are you ready?" Jace asks, his voice low and filled with a mix of emotions—concern, affection, and something deeper that has grown between you in these past months.

You look up at him, your heart swelling with love and fear all at once. "As ready as I’ll ever be," you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

Jace reaches out, taking your hand in his. The touch is warm, grounding you in the moment. "I don’t want you to go," he admits softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "Not to Storm’s End, not anywhere dangerous. But I know you must."

You squeeze his hand, drawing comfort from his presence. "And I don’t want you flying to the Vale or the North, but you must as well. We both have our duties, Jace. We have to do this for our mother, for our family."

His gaze softens as he looks at you, and in that moment, it feels as though the world has shrunk down to just the two of you, standing together on the precipice of something far greater than yourselves. "When this is over, when we’ve secured our mother’s throne," Jace begins, his voice full of conviction, "we will be together, as we’re meant to be. We’ll marry, and nothing will ever separate us again."

You smile at him, though tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I look forward to that day more than anything," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

Jace steps closer, his hand moving to cup your cheek. His touch is tender, and when he leans in to press his lips to yours, the kiss is gentle, filled with all the unspoken words and promises that have passed between you. It’s a kiss that speaks of longing, of a future that both of you desperately want but cannot fully grasp yet.

The wind picks up around you, tugging at your hair, but you don’t move away from him. His lips linger on yours, and for a moment, all the fear and uncertainty fades away, leaving only the warmth of his love.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and you close your eyes, savoring the closeness. "Come back to me," he whispers, his voice a plea that echoes in your heart.

"I will," you promise, your voice barely more than a breath. "And you come back to me."

He nods, and with one last kiss, he steps away, his hand slipping from yours reluctantly. The loss of his touch feels like a cold void, but you force yourself to remain strong. You have to be, for your family, for your future.

Jace turns to Luke, his expression becoming serious once more. "Take care of her," he says, his tone protective.

Luke nods, his face pale but resolute. "I will, Jace. I promise."

With that, Jace mounts Vermax, the dragon’s scales gleaming like emeralds in the gray light. You watch as they take flight, the powerful wings beating against the wind, carrying them up into the sky. For a moment, your heart feels like it’s being torn in two, but you push the feeling down, focusing on the task ahead.

You turn to Luke, offering him a reassuring smile. "We’ll do this, brother. We’ll make sure our mother’s claim is secure."

He nods, and together, you mount your dragons, the beasts shifting eagerly beneath you. You can feel Grey Ghost’s excitement, his connection with you strong and unwavering. With a final glance at Dragonstone, the place that has been your home and your sanctuary, you urge Grey Ghost into the air.

The wind rushes past you, the world falling away as you soar higher and higher. Below, the sea stretches out endlessly, the waves rolling in constant motion. You and Luke fly side by side, your dragons’ wings cutting through the sky with a powerful grace that fills you with a sense of invincibility.

But as you draw closer to Storm’s End, the storm clouds grow darker, swirling ominously. You can feel the tension in the air, a warning of what’s to come. You steal a glance at Luke, who meets your gaze with a determined nod. Together, you dive towards the fortress, your hearts heavy with the knowledge that this is just the beginning.

But through it all, you hold onto the promise of Jace’s words, of the life you will build together when the war is won. For now, that hope is enough to carry you through the storm.

The storm rages as you and Luke descend from the skies, the wind howling around you, and the rain pelting your faces like cold needles. The once distant silhouette of Storm’s End grows larger and more imposing with each passing second, its dark towers outlined by the flashes of lightning that split the sky. Grey Ghost’s massive wings beat powerfully beneath you, his body shifting with the wind as he angles towards the courtyard. Beside you, Luke struggles to keep Arrax steady, the young dragon’s movements more erratic in the harsh winds.

As you approach the ground, your eyes catch something that sends a jolt of dread through your heart—a massive shape looming in the distance, just beyond the castle walls. Vhagar. The ancient dragon sits like a shadow in the storm, her vast form barely visible in the driving rain. A surge of fear and unease washes over you, your mind flashing back to that terrible night at Driftmark, to the boy you once knew and cared for so deeply, who now rides the beast that haunts your nightmares.

You turn to Luke, his face pale but resolute as he prepares to land. You force yourself to push down the rising panic, knowing you must be strong for him. "Be brave, Luke," you call out over the storm, your voice barely audible above the wind. "We’re here to do our duty. Mother is counting on us."

He nods, his jaw set with determination as he brings Arrax down beside Grey Ghost. The courtyard is a whirl of activity despite the storm—guards and stablehands rushing to secure the dragons, their movements quick and practiced. You dismount swiftly, your boots splashing into the puddles that have formed on the stone ground, the rain soaking through your cloak almost immediately. The cold, damp air clings to your skin, making you shiver as you look around, your heart pounding in your chest.

The guards approach, their expressions stern as they motion for you and Luke to follow them. You fall into step beside your brother, your heart tightening with every step that brings you closer to the castle’s great hall, closer to the man you know is waiting inside. The memory of your last encounter with Aemond, the tension and hostility that had hung in the air during that fateful dinner after your grandsire proclaimed Luke the heir to Driftmark, is fresh in your mind. And the memory of Daemon’s blade severing Vaemond Velaryon’s head—another reminder of how fragile and dangerous your world has become.

Your mind races with the possibilities of what awaits you in the hall. Aemond’s presence here is both expected and dreaded. How will he react to seeing you again? And how will you maintain your composure in front of him, knowing all that has transpired?

The guards lead you through the corridors of Storm’s End, the stone walls echoing with the roar of the storm outside. Every step feels heavier than the last, your heart thudding in your chest as you approach the doors of the great hall. Luke glances at you, his eyes wide with anxiety, and you give him a reassuring nod, though your own nerves are frayed.

The heavy doors swing open with a groan, revealing the low lit interior of the hall. At the far end of the room, Lord Borros Baratheon sits upon his seat, a large and imposing figure, his expression unreadable as he watches your approach. And standing off to the side, his figure partially hidden in shadow, is Aemond.

Your breath catches as your eyes meet his. He is as you remember him, yet there is something colder, more dangerous in his demeanor now. The eyepatch he wears does little to soften the sharpness of his gaze, which is fixed entirely on you. The air between you feels charged, electric, as if the storm outside has found its way into the room.

Luke clears his throat and steps forward, his voice steady as he addresses Lord Borros. "Lord Borros, we come bearing a message from our mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne."

He extends the scroll, and one of Borros’s attendants takes it, bringing it to the lord. Borros unrolls the parchment, his eyes scanning the contents, but you can feel Aemond’s gaze never leaving you, the intensity of it almost unbearable. You force yourself to stand tall, meeting his stare with all the courage you can muster.

Borros reads the letter in silence, his expression darkening as he takes in the words. When he finally looks up, his eyes shift between you and Luke before settling on Aemond. "So, the whore’s son comes to Storm’s End to call upon the loyalty of House Baratheon," Borros says, his voice a deep rumble. "And what does your mother offer me in return for this allegiance?"

Luke stiffens at the insult, but before he can respond, Aemond steps forward, his focus solely on you. "She offers nothing that we cannot take by force," Aemond says smoothly, his voice low and dangerous. He moves closer, his gaze never wavering from yours. "You should be on your knees, begging for mercy. And you"—he nods to Luke—"owe me an eye."

Luke flinches, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword, but you step forward, placing a hand on his arm to stop him. "Aemond," you say, your voice trembling slightly, though you try to keep it steady. "We are here as envoys, not as enemies."

Aemond’s lips curl into a cold smile. "Are you?" His gaze flickers over you, lingering on the pendant around your neck—the one you’ve worn since childhood, a gift from him when you were both younger and the world was simpler. "You should be by my side, as was always intended. Come with me to King’s Landing. Leave this farce behind. It’s where you belong."

His words cut through you like a blade, stirring up a mixture of emotions—anger, sadness, and a deep, unspoken longing that you’ve tried so hard to bury. You stare at him, struggling to find the right words. "I am where I am meant to be," you reply, your voice firmer now. "My place is with my family."

Aemond’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. "Your place is by my side. It was decided long ago. If not for your mother’s ambitions and your brother’s blade, you would already be my wife."

The tension in the room is shimmering, the storm outside seeming to echo the storm within the hall. Luke looks to you, uncertainty written on his face, but before either of you can respond, Lord Borros rises from his seat, his patience clearly waning.

"Enough of this," Borros barks, his voice commanding attention. "I will not have my hall turned into a battleground for your family’s squabbles." He turns his gaze to you and Luke, his eyes narrowing. "You come here, expecting my loyalty, offering nothing in return but the word of your mother. I am no dog to be called when she whistles."

You feel a sinking feeling in your chest as Borros continues. "Tell your mother that House Baratheon will not be swayed so easily. My daughters are of age, and I will choose the best match for them—one that will bring strength to my house."

Your heart sinks further, knowing that this means Borros will likely side with Aegon, who can offer a marriage alliance. Luke’s face falls, his youthful optimism crushed by the reality of politics and power.

Borros waves a hand dismissively. "You may take your leave. But know this—if you try to force my hand, you will find yourself on the wrong side of Storm’s End’s walls."

You feel a chill run down your spine as you turn to leave, but Aemond’s voice stops you in your tracks. "You’re making a mistake," he says, his voice low and menacing, though it is directed at you rather than Lord Borros. "You cannot escape your destiny."

You meet his gaze one last time, a thousand words left unspoken between you. But you can’t afford to falter now. With a final nod to Luke, you lead him out of the hall, your heart heavy with the weight of what has transpired.

As you step back into the storm, the wind and rain battering against you, you feel Aemond’s gaze still on you, burning into your back. You don’t look back, even as your heart tightens painfully in your chest. You force yourself to focus on Luke, on getting him back to Arrax and out of this place safely.

You reach the courtyard, the storm raging even fiercer than before. Grey Ghost and Arrax wait anxiously, their eyes glowing in the darkness. You help Luke onto Arrax’s back, your hands shaking with the cold and the tension that still thrums through your veins.

As you mount Grey Ghost, you cast one last glance at Storm’s End, feeling Aemond’s presence like a shadow over your heart. Then, with a firm command, you urge Grey Ghost into the sky, Luke following close behind. The wind howls around you as you soar into the storm, the castle disappearing into the mist below.

The storm has swallowed the world in darkness, the sky an unrelenting swirl of black clouds and driving rain. You push Grey Ghost harder, his wings beating against the gale-force winds as you and Luke streak through the stormy sky. Lightning flashes, illuminating the rolling sea far below, the waves crashing violently against one another, echoing the tumult in your heart.

But then, through the roar of the storm, you hear it—a deep, guttural sound that sends a jolt of terror through you. You glance back, your heart leaping into your throat as you see the enormous shadow emerging from the clouds. Vhagar. The ancient dragon cuts through the sky like a nightmare come to life, her massive wings nearly blotting out the sky. And on her back, you can just make out the figure of Aemond, his silver hair whipping in the wind, his single eye locked on you with a frightening intensity.

“Luke!” you cry, urging Grey Ghost to fly faster, but the storm seems to conspire against you, the winds shifting, making it impossible to gain speed. You can see the panic in Luke’s eyes as he glances back, his young face pale against the dark sky. “We have to split up!” you shout, your voice barely carrying over the storm.

He nods reluctantly, his face set with determination. "Be careful," he yells back, veering Arrax to the left, disappearing into the churning clouds.

But Vhagar does not follow him. Instead, the enormous dragon continues to barrel toward you, her focus entirely on Grey Ghost. Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the gap between you and Aemond closing with terrifying speed. You glance back again, and in that moment, you catch Aemond’s gaze, his face contorted into a fierce determination. His eye is no longer on the hunt; it’s on you.

"Fly, Grey Ghost!" you urge, leaning low over your dragon’s neck, your voice tinged with desperation. But you know it’s futile. Vhagar is too large, too powerful, and even Grey Ghost, swift as he is, cannot outrun the monster that bears down on you.

In a flash of lightning, you see Vhagar’s enormous maw open, and Grey Ghost lets out a furious roar as he attempts to dodge the attack. But it’s too late. Vhagar’s jaws snap shut just behind your dragon, her talons lashing out to catch him. There’s a sudden jolt as Grey Ghost is wrenched out of the sky, and you’re thrown against the saddle, your grip slipping as you fight to hold on.

Vhagar’s claws dig into Grey Ghost’s side, pinning him against the rocky cliffs below. The impact is violent, the ground shuddering beneath you as Vhagar slams Grey Ghost down. You feel the air rush out of your lungs as Grey Ghost lets out a pained roar, his body pinned under Vhagar’s immense weight. The world tilts dangerously as you realize you’re about to be crushed beneath the two dragons.

With a surge of adrenaline, you unbuckle yourself from the saddle and leap off Grey Ghost’s back, hitting the ground hard. You roll to avoid being caught under Vhagar’s claws, the rough stones scraping against your hands and knees. Pain shoots through your limbs, but you force yourself to stand, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you look up at the towering form of Vhagar.

Aemond is already descending from the saddle, his boots hitting the ground with a splash of rain-soaked earth. His face is shadowed by the storm, but the determination in his single eye is unmistakable. His presence feels like a force of nature, as unstoppable as the storm itself.

Before you can even think to run, Aemond is upon you. His hand shoots out, catching your wrist in a grip that is firm yet surprisingly gentle. His touch sends a jolt through you, a confusing mix of fear and something else—something deeper, something you’ve tried to bury.

"You’re coming with me," Aemond declares, his voice low and unyielding. The rain cascades down his face, mingling with the strands of his silver hair, but his eye never wavers from yours. "This is where you belong, with me, in King’s Landing."

You try to wrench your hand free, but his grip tightens. "Let me go, Aemond!" you shout, your voice raw with anger and fear. "You can’t just take me like this!"

He steps closer, his body towering over yours, the heat of his presence cutting through the cold rain. "You were promised to me," he says, his voice a growl, filled with a barely controlled fury. "Before your mother, before my mother, you were promised to me. That was the true path, the one that should have been followed. I’m taking back what was stolen from me."

Your heart races as his words sink in, the sheer intensity of his resolve leaving you breathless. You can see it in his eye—the same desperation you felt that night in Driftmark, the desperation that drove him to claim Vhagar. But this is different; this is personal.

"I am not yours to take!" you shout, your voice cracking under the weight of the emotions roiling inside you. "I’m not some prize to be won!"

Aemond’s grip on your wrist loosens slightly, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that is somehow more terrifying than his earlier anger. "You’re wrong," he says, his breath warm against your ear despite the cold. "You’ve always been mine. From the moment we were children, we belonged to each other. I knew it then, and I know it now."

You shake your head, tears mingling with the rain on your cheeks. "No, Aemond. We were children then. Things are different now."

His expression softens just slightly, and for a brief moment, you see the boy you once knew, the boy who held your hand in the gardens of Driftmark and promised to protect you. "Things don’t have to be different," he says quietly. "We can still be what we were meant to be. I will make you my wife, back at the capital. No matter what Rhaenyra or Alicent say."

Your breath catches in your throat at the intensity of his words. You feel the world closing in around you, the storm raging, the dragons snarling in the background, but all you can focus on is the man before you, the man who is both your past and the future he so desperately wants.

But you know you cannot let him take you, not like this. Not as a pawn in the game your families are playing. "Aemond, please," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. "This isn’t the way."

He looks at you, his eye searching yours, and for a moment, you think you see a flicker of doubt, a hesitation. But then it’s gone, replaced by the fierce resolve that has always defined him. "It’s the only way," he says, his voice final. "You’re coming with me, and together we’ll make our own destiny."

Before you can respond, he pulls you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist with a possessive strength. The proximity sends your heart into a wild rhythm, confusion and fear tangling with the old, familiar feelings you’ve tried to deny for so long.

"Aemond—" you begin, but he cuts you off.

"We’ll be together," he says, his voice a vow. "I’ll keep you safe, no matter what. You’ll see, this is the only way."

The crackling fire in the hearth does little to warm the cold stone walls of Winterfell's great hall. The North is a place of enduring chill, where the warmth of the flames fights a losing battle against the ever-present cold. But for Jacaerys Velaryon, standing before the fire, the cold within him is not merely from the Northern air. It’s a cold that has settled deep in his bones, born from a letter that trembles in his hand.

Cregan Stark watches him, his gray eyes sharp and perceptive, though he says nothing. The Lord of Winterfell has seen many men face terrible news, and he knows better than to push too quickly. But even he cannot help but feel a flicker of concern at the way Jacaerys clenches his jaw, the muscles ticking with restrained fury.

Jacaerys reads the letter again, as if hoping the words will change, but they do not. They remain as damning and horrifying as the first time.

"My son, upon your return from the North, you will not find your sister here at Dragonstone. She has been taken, stolen from us by Aemond Targaryen. He has brought her to King’s Landing, and there are whispers that he intends to wed her against her will. I fear for her safety and what this means for our cause. You must return to me as swiftly as you can, for the time to act is upon us."

The parchment crumples slightly under his grip, the tension in his body vibrating with barely controlled rage. He can hardly breathe, the thought of his sister—your sister—in Aemond’s hands making his blood boil. The fire within him threatens to consume him, but Jacaerys knows he must keep his head. He must think, must plan.

But all he can feel is the roaring in his ears, the overwhelming need to fly south and tear Aemond apart with his bare hands.

Cregan steps closer, his boots barely making a sound on the flagstone floor. "Jacaerys," he says, his voice a deep rumble that commands attention but carries no judgment. "What has happened?"

Jacaerys clenches his fists, trying to force the words out without letting the fury consume him. "Aemond," he grits out, his voice low and dangerous. "He took her. He took my sister."

Cregan’s eyes narrow, understanding dawning in their gray depths. "Took her?" he echoes, his voice calm but laced with a growing concern. "Where? When?"

Jacaerys swallows hard, the words sticking in his throat like shards of glass. "After Storm’s End. I knew she was heading there with Luke, but I thought they’d return. I thought—" He stops, his breath hitching as the weight of his failure presses down on him. "I should have been there."

Cregan places a hand on his shoulder, a firm yet comforting gesture. "You couldn’t have known," he says quietly. "None of us could have. But tell me what you know, Jacaerys. We can’t act without understanding the full extent of the situation."

Jacaerys forces himself to breathe, to push through the fog of anger clouding his thoughts. He straightens, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "My mother’s letter," he begins, his voice still rough with emotion, "says that after they left Storm’s End, Aemond pursued them. He chased them on Vhagar and... somehow, he managed to catch up with them. He—" Jacaerys’ voice breaks for a moment, but he grits his teeth and continues. "He took her. He took her to King’s Landing."

Cregan’s expression hardens, his hand tightening slightly on Jacaerys’ shoulder. "And what does he intend to do with her?"

The question is a knife to Jacaerys’ gut, the unspoken implications clear between them. He can hardly bring himself to say it, but he knows he must. "There are whispers," he says slowly, the words heavy with dread, "that he plans to marry her. That he’ll force her to be his wife."

Cregan’s jaw clenches, and he nods, his mind already turning to the potential consequences. "If that is true, it would be a bold move by Aemond," he says, his voice measured. "He must know it would enrage your mother, perhaps even push her to act more recklessly than she might otherwise. But if he succeeds... it could strengthen his claim, and by extension, Aegon’s."

Jacaerys’ heart pounds painfully in his chest, his mind racing with the possibilities. "I have to go after her," he says suddenly, the urgency in his voice unmistakable. "I can’t just sit here while Aemond—while he—" He can’t finish the sentence, the thought too horrifying to voice.

Cregan’s grip on his shoulder tightens, grounding him in the present moment. "And you will," he assures Jacaerys, his voice steady and firm. "But you must not act out of rage alone. We need to think this through. If you fly south now, without a plan, you could be walking into a trap."

Jacaerys shakes his head, his frustration and anger boiling over. "I can’t just sit here!" he snaps, pulling away from Cregan’s grasp. "I won’t let him do this to her! She’s my sister—she’s everything to me! And Aemond—he can’t—he won’t get away with this!"

Cregan watches him with a calm, steady gaze, letting Jacaerys vent his anger. When the younger man finally stops, breathing heavily, Cregan speaks again, his tone measured. "I understand your fury, Jacaerys. I would feel the same if it were my kin. But I also know that anger alone will not save her. We must be smart about this."

Jacaerys turns back to Cregan, the fire in his eyes now mixed with desperation. "Then tell me what to do," he demands, his voice shaking. "Tell me how to save her."

Cregan’s face is grave, his mind clearly weighing the options. "First, we must send word to your mother," he says. "She needs to know that you’ve received her message and that we’re preparing to act. Second, we must consider how to approach King’s Landing. Charging in with dragons might provoke a response that puts your sister in greater danger."

Jacaerys opens his mouth to argue, but Cregan holds up a hand, silencing him. "But we cannot wait too long," Cregan continues. "Aemond’s intentions might not be clear yet, but the longer she remains in King’s Landing, the harder it will be to bring her back safely."

Jacaerys feels the weight of those words, the cold reality of the situation settling over him like a shroud. Every moment that passes could bring more harm to you, the sister he loves more than anything in the world. He looks down at the letter in his hand, his vision blurring with unshed tears.

"I can’t lose her, Cregan," he whispers, his voice cracking. "She’s... she’s everything to me."

Cregan’s expression softens, and he places a hand on Jacaerys’ arm. "You won’t lose her," he says with quiet conviction. "We’ll get her back. But you need to keep your wits about you, Jacaerys. For her sake."

Jacaerys nods slowly, trying to push down the overwhelming emotions that threaten to consume him. He has to be strong, has to think clearly if he’s going to save you. But it’s hard, so hard, when all he wants to do is fly south and tear Aemond apart for daring to take you.

Cregan steps back, his expression becoming more focused, more tactical. "We’ll start by preparing our forces," he says, already moving towards the door. "And we’ll send ravens to your mother, letting her know what we plan to do. We’ll need to coordinate our efforts if we’re going to succeed."

Jacaerys follows him, the anger still simmering in his chest, but now tempered by the need for action. "And then?" he asks, his voice rough.

Cregan pauses at the doorway, turning back to Jacaerys with a look of steely determination. "And then we’ll go to King’s Landing," he says. "And we’ll bring her home."

The words are a promise, one that Jacaerys clings to as he prepares to face the storm that lies ahead. No matter what it takes, no matter the cost, he will save you. And Aemond will pay for what he’s done.

But even as he steels himself for the battle to come, the fear lingers in his heart—the fear that he might be too late, that Aemond might already have taken something from you that can never be returned. It’s a thought that fuels the fire within him, the need to protect you from the man who has already taken so much.

As he follows Cregan out into the cold, Jacaerys vows that he will not rest until you are safe again, until you are back where you belong—with him, by his side, where no one can ever take you away again.

[winterfeeling1]

"Haven´t you noticed anything?"

And then Jackie realizes... He´s not in the normal world anymore, there´s strings in his neck, Anti is grinning, the world is grey, he´s... he´s trapped inside his own mind once again.

"I got you, hero."

aka

poor jackie beat anti´s ass but still got puppeted in the end lmao

[hypegirl1]

Take it off (Seven x fem!reader)

AN:Some random girl from my school told me yesterday that she liked my Seven keychain,idk who she was but I loved that. I APOLOGISE IF THIS IS SO MESSY 😭 Summary:Your boyfriend Seven finds you using one of his shirts,which he loved a little too much

Warnings:Suggestive language

Word count: 619

"Where the fuck did all of my shirts go???"

That´s what you thought to yourself,you had just gotten out of the shower and you were going to put whatever shirt you found with some grey sweatpants,it was sunday,you had no plans for today besides staying at home with your boyfriend playing some videogames or watching a movie,it was one of those rainy lazy sundays where you didn´t felt like hanging out with your friends or even talking to them.

When you opened your closet you found everything,except for your shirts.Skirts,jeans,tops,sweaters,shorts,and even your favorite winter jacket,but no shirt in sight,and it´s not like you lacked shirts, you had A LOT of them,but of course,they were nowhere to be seen.

"Lemme recall some stuff...okay Yoosung called me yesterday saying that he needed help with laundry because he had too much,if I remember well,I took my shirts with him because they smelled weird,and we did laundry at his house,and- fuck,I forgot all my shirts at Yoosung´s house..."

That´s when realization hit you,you could just steal one from your boyfriend Seven! right?... He´s kinda possesive about his stuff,but when it comes to you,he doesn´t care,so why not? You opened his closet and searched for a plain shirt that he wouldn´t mind being taken.

"Lemme see...god why is his closet so messy? I´ll tell him to organize it tomorrow"

It was hard to search for a shirt with all the mess that was going on in that closet,how did he got dressed like that???

"Finally!This one´s perfect"

You removed the wet towel that you had been using for the past 10 minutes and put on the shirt with the sweatpants,it looked kinda big on you,but it was comfortable.

"I´ll have to call Yoosung now to ask him about the laundry"

20 minutes later...

"He told you what? Girl dump him right now,that´s the worst red flag I´ve seen on a guy"

You were on the phone with your bestfriend talking about some gossip that she had,you talked with Yoosung earlier and he said he would leave a spare key under his doormat so that you could pick up your laundry,because he had class tomorrow.

"I know right,what? Seven? I told him to go to the store like half an hour ago to go pick up some snacks for tonight,yeah maybe we´ll watch a movie,I don´t know why he´s being late but yeah-"

"Honeeeey I´m home!"

"That´s him,I´ll call you tomorrow,bye"

The sound of bags dropping on the floor and fast footsteps didnt even lasted 10 seconds before Seven jumped onto the couch with you.

"Well hello,where have you been?"

"To the store like you told me"

"And it took you 30 minutes?"

"I was trying to find your favorite chips because they ran out of them,but after searching for 10 minutes I found them"

"Thank you,that´s so sweet"

"Well,wanna- is that my shirt?"

"Huh?Oh yeah,sorry,mine are at Yoosung´s house"

"No no,it´s fine,it´s just that-fuck,it looks so good on you,but it would look better on the floor"

You were speechless,it´s been a few months since you started dating Seven,it´s not the first time he says something like this,but you haven´t got used to it yet

"Wha-"

He crawled on top of you,grabbing your wrists so you couldn´t go anywhere,you could feel your cheeks getting hoter and hoter every second

"You heard me,what do you think?"

Words couldn´t escape your mouth,your mind was already feeling dazy with all the thoughts that were coming into your mind about where this was going to lead later.

"I think you´re right"

But as he picked you up, the thought of how sore your legs were going to be tomorrow crossed your mind,however,at this point it didn´t even matter anymore.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Did anyone do the character ask game for Price?

Ha, Anon, I didn't. I had a few sporadic individual ones. I think people went: ahh, he's a Price guy, someone else will ask the Price guy about Price. But no. No.

Favourite thing about him

His disregard for bullshit rules. His frustration with the bureaucracy in the way of achieving just goals. I think he has a strong sense of justice (dictated by his own moral compass), and perceived injustice cannot stand. If you slight him, or the people he cares for, he's coming for you, and nothing on this earth or the next will save you from him. We share the frustration and the strong sense of justice in common. Mine gets me in trouble a lot, because I will absolutely tell people when I think they're being cunts or what they're asking me to do isn't right. I've landed on my feet most times, but not always. So, I guess I can relate.

What else? He's an overachiever and I love exploring where that drive comes from. I think I project a lot in coming up with the cause; disappointing your parents by being queer, so you work yourself down to the bone to prove yourself worthy of a love that will only destroy you in the end, because it's conditional on your soul bending in a way it's not meant to.

I love his fiery temper. Love it when he snarls and snaps. He's not the emotionless commander, blank slate protagonist who is perfect so we can project ourselves onto him thoughtlessly. Kind of linked to the rest of him: asymmetrical face, thinning hair at the crown, receding hairline, scruffy facial hair, strong build but not Hollywood ripped. He's an every man; flaws, freckles, n' everything in between.

Least favourite thing about him

He's intelligent and manipulative. He finds the broken boys, he tells them they can make a difference and all they've got to do is what he says, he puts the gun in their hands, points and gives the kill order. I think Price cares for them in his own way, but I also think he knows when someone is vulnerable to his particular brand of maverick justice. Price knows he inspires loyalty and devotion to an almost unhealthy degree, and he uses that to his advantage.

I say "least", again, but I think it makes him interesting. I think Soap throwing himself between him and a bullet would have profoundly affected him. Soap throwing his life away for Price - not the mission, for Price - was never part of the plan.

Favourite line(s):

"Haha, you think of ev'ryfin'."

"Ahh, sing it a lullaby, we gotta go!"

"Let's get evil."

"We fight not so that the world will remember us, but so that there will be a world to remember."

"This is for Soap."

Basically every time he opens his mouth, to be honest.

BrOTP

Price & Laswell; gay-lesbian solidarity. Price & Farah is also sweet.

OTP

Nik/Price, now and forever. Ghost/Price a very close second.

NOTP

Price/abuse. So, Makarov, Shepherd. Anyone who's gonna hurt him. Can't do it.

Random headcanon

I mean... I'm constantly writing them. But the one that comes up now and then is his accent. I think he trained himself out of it at Sandhurst because he wanted to be taken seriously. There's still a lot of snobbery in the British military at that level. Scouser Price is still very fun to write.

Unpopular opinion

That man has absolutely internalised a truckload of toxic masculinity that he needs to work through to heal.

Song I associate with them

Favour picture of him

Every artist that draws Price ever. But also...

QUOKKA PRICE!

[xxkitty13]

Circus Freaks

LA Buggy x Fem Reader

Storyline will contain: young reader (20’s), nsfw, violence, dark themes

One Piece characters belong to Oda and the One Piece franchise, do not sell.

Next chapter- Part 2

Part 1: The Carnival

The East Blue is a calm ocean. Some consider it boring, but it's a safe haven for most. Unlike the other three Blues, it is not known for its notorious pirates—despite one. Many settle here hoping for a life of tranquility; however, life is always full of surprises.

It was to everyone's surprise when the small island of Febe was visited by pirates. No pirate has set coarse here. Why would they? There is nothing valuable for them unless they intend to take the farmland.

The small coastal town became clueless on the matter. Should they fight or flee? Neither of those things do any good. The mayor decided to stand watch, as many did the same. Who knows . . . maybe they're not hostile?

The ship pulled up to the dock— fairly large and full of colors. The Jolly Roger was unusual, it had a big red nose on the skull. Not what they had a mind when they approached the ship. The people became curious to whom these pirates might be. The crowd became larger, awaiting to see the people on board.

A large plank fell on the the side of ship, allowing the crew off. Strange they all looked. They did not appear to dress pirate like, instead they dressed in circus outfits.

The crew stood menacingly, observing the townspeople who dare make a move. It was then a loud laugh boomed from the ship; the pirates made way for laughing man.

Like royalty, the crew lined up to make way, it was the captain of the ship. A large orange hat, with dangling blue hair caught the eyes of the people. He had crossbones taking up the space of his forehead with blue stripes on each eye. He gave a flashy smile, showing off his exaggerated red paint that covered his mouth. Tying it all together was a large circular red nose that could be seen from a mile away, grasping their attention. Could this be the captain of the ship?

"Ladies and gentlemen, yours truly has arrived." He boasted. The red nose man looked at the crowd awaiting for their reaction.

No one said a word, but the look in their eyes gave plenty to say. Buggy grinned.

"Captain . . ." a man whispered.

"Shh Cabaji, there's no need for that."

Cabaji, the pirate with the side part with three yellow stripes, rolled his eyes stepping away from his captain. He has no clue to what he's up to. The captain is always full of surprises.

"There's no need to fear. We are not the pirates you think of," he said as he approached the crowd.

He raised his arms in the air. "I'm Buggy. Buggy the clown and I'm here to give you a show you've never seen before."

The surrounding people whispered to themselves. Not sure if they should believe this pirate clown; after all, pirates should not be trusted.

The mayor took the courage to take a step forward. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"I'd say you're the leader of this town, am I right?"

"Yes, I'm the mayor."

Buggy walked up to the man. The mayor was a bit larger than him. Rugged actually. He wore cowboy boots and a hat, covering his bald head. His puffy orange beard swayed against his grey suit. Buggy was not intimated to say the least.

"I go island to island to bring the circus to the people. I'd say this little town is in the need of some entertainment . Don't you think?"

The mayor looked at him puzzled, but it got him thinking. This island was well known for its ranching and agriculture. All the townspeople do is work. This proposal was intriguing of course.

"Mr. Dun, don't you think it'll be exciting?" Someone spoke.

"I've never been to a circus," another voice announced.

The people gleamed in excitement. Harvesting season was almost to an end. Many are burnout; the town was in much need of a break.

"Well I speak for the people that some livery is much needed. Better yet! I'd say we should host carnival! What do ya think, Mr. Dun?" Buggy roared.

The crowd went wild with the thought of a carnival.

"What?! A carnival? That would be so cool!" Someone blurted.

"Mr.Dun you must give them permission to set up in our town."

"Oh yes! Please Mr. Dun, nothing ever takes place here. So what if they're pirates? I don't think it will do any harm."

Mr. Dun became overwhelmed with the people shouting at him. He sighed as he stroked his orange beard. "Well . . . I can't go against so many."

His eyes met Buggy's as he took one last sigh. "Let me know what you need for your little carnival."

The clown gave toothy grin, chuckling to himself.

"Thank you mayor. I promise you won't regret it," he said shaking his hand. "Just let my crew know where to set up and they'll take it from there."

With a nod, the mayor stepped away and went to speak with one of Buggy's crewmates. The townspeople gathered amongst themselves laughing in joy.

"Captain Buggy what are you up to?" Cabaji said, eyeing the clown. Who walked away, heading back up the ship.

"I thought we were supposed to capture the townspeople. This was not apart of the plan."

Glaring at him, Buggy muttered, "Watch it. I changed my mind."

"But why captain? I find that odd of you."

"Don't know. I'm feeling a bit merciful today," he chuckled to himself. "Aw don't give me that look Cabaji. You'll have your fun when the time comes. We're taking a different approach this time. Besides the people seem to like us compared to the other towns."

"Now, go help set up"—threatening with a dark glare— "my carnival needs to be ready by morning or else . . ."

Before Cabaji could leave, Buggy grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close. "Oh, I almost forgot. If you see any bounty posters, destroy them. These people are unaware about us and I prefer for it to stay that way. Got it?"

"U-um y-yes captain!" With a sweat he scampered away.

He cackled watching his subordinate run off. Taking one last look at the people below he made way to his quarters. Opening the door to his room, he yawned. He sat at his desk and opened the cabinet to his right. Reaching in, he took out a map.

Buggy opened it. "If everything goes according to plan, getting this treasure will be easy. All I have to do now is wait." He smirked to himself.

"Maybe . . . just maybe . . . I'll spare the blood for once." With his maniacal laughter he took one last look at the map and placed it back.

[jeonjungkookenthusiast1997]

Surrender to the Night

Synopsis: Y/N is looking for a safe haven from the packs of wolves hiding in the dark. In the middle of the forest she finds Hwang Hyunjin, who patches her up before stealing her away into his bedroom away from prying eyes.

Do not repost or translate my work! This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only.

Content Warnings: vampire au, mentions of blood and mild violence, supernatural abilities, oral sex (m & f receiving), shameless smut, porn with feelings, creampie, unprotected sex

Word Count: 6,425 (she's long I do apologise)

Navigation

{ How I imaged Hyunjin looking in this fic }

It's a dark and dreary Friday night as Y/N walks aimlessly through a dense forest. She'd been at a art exhibition in a neighbouring town when she realised how late it was getting, unfortunately it was so late that public transport was a definite no good meaning she would have to make her own way home 'just great' she thinks as she hugs the thin material of her baby pink blouse closer to her chest. 

It has to have been about an hour since she had left the warmth and safety of the convention hall, her phone battery long dead and her hope of finding somewhere to stay for the night was quickly dwindling. Y/N comes to a clearing with a tree stump hidden away to the side, needing to rest her feet at least for a moment she sits as she racks her brain on what she should do next, she thinks to herself it's almost eerily quiet when a howl not too far away makes her jump up from where she had been sat. 

Y/N may not know much about surviving in nature but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to realise she needs to leave…now. She walks off from the clearing back into the thick of the woods, weaving her way through the trees as quietly as she can. The shaken girl has her eyes staring straight ahead as she walks, more howls sound off in the distance which is slightly reassuring but they're definitely getting closer to her as her pace starts to pick up in a bid to get to some form of safety quicker. Y/N passes through another patch of tall trees and thick bushes when she looks ahead to see, what she's sure is, a very big house with one light still on. A cry of relief leaves her throat as she starts to run to the house, she almost gets out of the greenery entirely when something large and heavy jumps onto her back knocking her to the floor. 

The wolf that's on top of her body is bigger than any other wolf she's ever seen before, its eyes are dark and unforgiving as its claws slash at her arms causing thick globs of red blood to ooze through her blouse staining it red. She's crying now as she tries to push the beast off of her body, luckily she manages to find a decently thick fallen tree branch she hits the wolf with knocking it down momentarily giving her enough time to hobble over to the house. 

Holding her injured arm tightly she places her small hand on a large brass lion which appears to be a door knocker, she gives the heavy item a few quick taps but no one appears at the door. Terrified that the grey beast wasn't done with her she gives the door handle a little shake, once she knows the door is unlocked she makes her way in slowly. Y/N closes the front door behind her as softly as she can, to what can only be described as a mansion, jumping when she turns to see a young beautiful man standing in the doorway with a scowl on his face "who are you?" He asks with a look of distrust "right of course I'm Y/N. S-Sorry to bother you... I got into an accident and your home was the was the only safe space I could find" his piercing brown eyes look the small girl up and down before he slowly nods his head "I see, my name is Hyunjin" he gestures to himself as he replies before his eyes land on her arm "what happened?" Y/N moves her hand away from her arm to show the two large gashes that line her skin "I got lost in the woods and before I realised it was almost pitch black outside, a very large wolf found me... I barely got away with my life as you can see" she shrinks away at his intense gaze, her eyes dropping to inspect the intricately patterned tiles lining the floor. 

Hyunjin sighs heavily "I'm sorry that happened to you, the wolves shouldn't be lingering around here they know better than that..." His tone is cold as he looks back at her arm "you'll need to get that cleaned up, follow me" he gestures for her to walk with him as he ventures further into his home. The beautiful man's comment about the wolves gives Y/N pause 'they know better than that' what does that mean, she turns to look at the ornate door leading back outside thinking maybe she should just brave the elements and find a town to stay in like she originally hoped when a howl sounding off scares her into blindly following the taller man "come along" Hyunjin motions for her to follow him once more as they enter into a large room, he proceeds to lead her to a kitchen filled with various powders, potions, and bandages. He nods his head in the direction of a stool set in the corner "sit" she looks at the stool and blinks her eyes shocked at his cold demeanour "r-right of course... sorry" she scrambles to quickly sit on the seat waiting as patiently as she can. Hyunjin walks over to one of the cabinets and pulls out some supplies, taking them back to the table where he carefully sets them down, he motions for her to take a hold of his hand as he cuts away the shredded material of her shirt with a pair of scissors. His movements suddenly halt when he accidentally nicks her arm causing fresh blood to trickle from the wound, she winches in pain but he doesn't acknowledge her as his eyes stay trained to her bloodied arm. Y/N tries to pull her hand from his grasp but he doesn't let go of the appendage, his eyes never moving away from her body "excuse me, Hyunjin?" She asks timidly, her body growing cold as she swears his eyes glint a dark hue of red, her voice seems to snap him out of his thoughts as he clears his throat "sorry" he mumbles giving no explanation for his behaviour.

His slender fingers set the scissors down on the table "this may sting a bit" he warns her as he starts to clean the wounds with some antiseptic wipes. He makes sure not to touch her too much, knowing that even the smallest bit of contact could cause problems for both of them. As he bandages her up she notices his hands start to shake. His delicate face holds a scowl so deep she's never seen something quite like it before as his shaking becomes worse "if the sight of blood makes you queasy I can do this myself, you've done the hard part" she tries to joke as she offers to take over, a soft chuckle at her cluelessness leaves his lips at her offer, sounding almost musical she thinks, a small smile forms on his face as he shakes his head "that's not it, I'm almost done anyway so stop squirming" his eyes narrow at her. Her moments freeze as his hands tug her body closer to him to make his work easier "you sure? 'cause I could have sworn that before your eyes..." She trails off as his head snaps up, eyes cold and dark as they zero in on her own. He suddenly drops her arm from his hold "you saw nothing" he grumbles his eyes not dropping from her own "all done" he finally looks away from her as he washes her dried blood from his hands with a strained look on his face. 

Y/N gulps as her eyes stay trained on his back "right yeah of course, I'm probably just hallucinating or something from the adrenaline of the attack" she huffs out a laugh as she examines his work on her arm "I mean what average person has glowing red eyes right?" she jokes brushing off the weirdness of the situation, his body stiffens before turning to face her once again, a dangerous grin on his lips  ``actually I was wrong...we're not done here" he walks back over to her, moving until his body is inches from her own "what is it exactly you think you saw?" her heart starts to beat erratically almost like a rabbit sensing a predator is nearby "I mean it's nothing really... I just thought I sa- but it couldn't have been" she shakes her head, he simply stares at her face not moving back with an expectant look on his face "I thought I saw... your eyes turn red when you nicked me" she whispers feeling her breath come out in shallow bursts. His eyes widen for a moment as his mouth parts slightly in surprise, he takes a step back before bringing his hands up to his face, gripping the bridge of his nose "goddammit Chan is going to kill me" he curses out loud "you saw" he murmurs to himself, shaking his head in disbelief "I knew I should have just turned you away dammit, you actually saw…" he slowly turns to stare at her incredulously "and yet you didn't try to run away" he tilts his head "how curious" he smiles darkly. 

Y/N backs away as he starts to walk closer until her shoulders hit against a long cabinet "well yeah of course. I mean I figured it was just a trick of the light or something, right?" She tries to play the whole situation off as light-heartedly as she can but deep in her heart she can feel that she's treading into dangerous waters. Hyunjin chuckles softly as he leans forward placing both hands on either side of the floor to ceiling glass cabinet boxing her head in between his hands ``it wasn't a trick of the light" he says calmly, inching his face towards her slowly "but if you insist on playing innocent then fine by me" he smirks mischievously. The shaking woman musters all the courage she can looking up into his eyes "if it wasn't the light then what are you?" she asks slowly and carefully. His lips curl up into a small smile, a predatory glint in his eyes "I’m a vampire, of course" he murmurs watching her body as her eyes widen in shock "don't worry I'm not going to hurt you, if i’d have wanted to hurt you I could have done it when you opened the door to my home and entered without permission" He pauses for a moment and tilts his head to the side "it's been a long time since we've had a human here I want to savour the moment" his long and slender fingers trail soft touches against her cheek and across to her jaw as his dark eyes watch her rapidly rising chest closely "a vampire?" she questions keeping her voice as calm as she can "how can I be sure you aren't just fucking with me?" she asks with a determined shine in her eyes. The gentle fingers stop mid-touch, turning his hand so that his thumb grazes against the corner of her lips, his eyes studying her every move "you're asking me to prove to you what I am? Isn't that a little dangerous" he asks with a laugh "you should trust your instincts, they never lie. Your poor little heart has been thumping so loudly I can almost feel it in my bones" he says calmly a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he continues to run his hand down her cheek, trailing down her neck until he reaches her collarbone.

Y/N’s eyes drop down to watch his fingers move across her body, the air between the two changing as their bodies move closer to each other "apparently I'm in the mood for a little danger tonight" she looks up at his face as she leans close and whispers "you still haven't proved your actually a vampire" his fingers continue to trace along her collar bone slowly moving lower towards her cleavage, "Are you saying you don't believe my word? That I would lie about something like this?" he asked softly as he looked into her eyes. The look on his face was playful but there was an underlying seriousness behind it "if you're so set on this then I will prove myself to you" his soft touches are making the nerves in the body tingle as his fingers move down her chest, she's about to press him again about proof of who he is when his head suddenly lifts causing him to stand tall. His beautiful face twists into something akin to frustration as his head shifts slightly to the direction of the door before his smile returns, he wraps his arms around her waist holding her tightly "hold on tight" he murmurs into her ear as he moves them from the kitchen downstairs to a bedroom upstairs within seconds slamming the door behind them as he drops her onto a bed "h-how did you do that?" she gasps as she sits on a nearby bed catching her breath. 

Hyunjin chuckles lightly at her bewildered expression, "I've been a vampire for centuries now little one, I know how to handle things my abilities" he said with a wink, she nods as she looks around the beautifully decorated room "fuck you weren't lying then" she laughs as he shakes his head 'no' "yours?" she asks as she gestures to the room, her eyes take in the plush room decorated with vibrant shades of red and gold with a look of awe on her face. He chuckles lightly and nods "yes mine" he says smiling happily, "it holds mementos of everything i've experienced through this tediously long life" he says looking over at the beautiful furniture and decorations in the room. He moves closer to her "I live in this mansion with my brothers, I heard the youngest of us coming through the door which is why I had to bring you up here... so I can have you all to myself" she gulps slightly at the predatory gaze he fixes on her body "I didn't realise vampires could have brothers" he hums in acknowledgement at her statement "we aren't blood related but we've been together for centuries now, we're all we have left" she thinks over his words wondering how many of these 'brothers’ he has and after a moment she speaks again "am I your prisoner now Hyunjin? because I was unlucky enough to stumble onto your property, does that mean I can't leave?" she asks showing no real emotions negative or positive.

He smiles widely as he hears her questions "you are not a prisoner little one, you're free to leave this place whenever you'd like" his voice gets very low as he stares deeply into her eyes, "but why would you want to when I'm here" he smirks as he bends in front of her "you barely know me Hyunjin, why would you want to keep me here?" she asks as she subconsciously reaches her fingers out to touch his cheek, almost recoiling as she feels how cold his skin is. He laughs softly as he pulls away from her hand, "because I find you interesting little one," he whispers huskily before leaning forward again pressing himself closer to her body, "and because I enjoy being near you…" he whispers as his breath licks at her ear, "and lastly because..." he pauses for effect "you smell absolutely divine" he nuzzles his nose into her neck just below her earlobe. Y/N gasps at the feeling of his nose nuzzling along her pulse point, her hands reach up as her fingers weave themselves into his long, dark hair. Hyunjin wraps his hand around her waist, using his hold on her body to push her gently onto his bed making sure to keep his body close to hers as he crawls on top of her. Her breath hitches in her throat at his intense stare into her eyes "didn't you say one of your brothers was home? won't he hear if we…" Hyunjin smiles mischievously as he looks down at her, "don't worry about him... as soon as Innie smells your sent mixed with mine, no doubt he'll leave to snitch on me to Chan'' he says with a small laugh "we're not meant to have friends over you see" he whispers as he leaves feather light kisses along her jaw "too... much... of a... distraction” a blush creeps up her cheeks at his words. 

Y/N nods her head whilst tilting her head back to give him more access to her body "is that what I am to you? a friend?" she giggles teasingly as her friends play with his dark, silky locks. He chuckles softly before placing more soft kisses against her delicate skin "I suppose we'll see, won't we little one" he says with a smile. Hyunjin lifts his body so that he's leaning above her smaller frame with his hands splayed at either side of her head, he waits for a moment as he looks into her eyes. Sensing some hesitation Y/N removes her fingers from his hair choosing to hold onto his jaw gently giving a slight pulling motion, he lets her pull his face to her own as she places a slight kiss against his soft and full lips. He groans slightly as she pulls away from their kiss, but doesn't resist the action. Instead he leans forward pressing his forehead against her own. His voice is low and husky when he speaks again, "you really are quite something aren't you?" Y/N bites her lip as she looks at his face taking in his delicate, almost princely, features. She moves forwards catching his lips in another delicate kiss "are you sure you want this?" Hyunjin asks surprisingly softly as his eyes scrunch shut "once I've had you... I may never be able to let you go" she thinks for a moment watching as his pretty eyes flutter open at her silence, she nods her head but doesn't speak she just pulls his head back down to her own.

Hyunjin allows her to pull him close as she kisses him, this time he decides he has given her enough time to back out and deepens the kiss. He moves one hand to hold her jaw in place as his tongue slides across her bottom lip requesting entry, she smiles into the kiss opening her lips just enough to let his tongue slide against her own, she moves her hand to wrap around his wrist keeping his hold on her jaw firm.  Hyunjin feels himself getting lost in the kiss, all thoughts of trying to convince her to think this through and make sure it's what she wants disappear completely. He kisses her harder as he groans softly "you taste heavenly little one" he grins the irony of his words making him chuckle, she gasps softly as she feels his teeth nip gently at her bottom lip, she gives him one last passionate kiss before pulling away slightly "are you trying to corrupt me Hyunjin?" she enquiries teasingly biting her lip. The vampire hovering above her rubs his nose against her cheek "I wouldn't have to do much to corrupt you little one, you're already so... responsive to my touch" he winks, before leaning in to give her a tender kiss on the lips before reattaching his lips to her neck, sucking gently to leave red and purple marks littered across her collarbone.

Y/N whines as Hyunjin teases her, grazing his sharp canines against her skin "doesn't it scare you that all I'd have to do is press...a little harder and I'd be feeding on you" he asks with a dangerous glint shining in his eyes. She surprises him by shaking her head boldly "I'm not afraid" as if to prove her point she takes a hold of the bottom of her shirt, lifting it up and over her head before throwing it to the floor. His eyebrows raise at her boldness, but his smile remains wide and smug as his hand moves from her throat to her breasts. His touches are soft and teasing as his fingertips run along the underside of her gold laced bra, Hyunjin lowers his head to place kisses across her bust. He sucks the skin into his mouth, leaving his marks decorated across her body and once he's happy she's sufficiently claimed he uses his enchanted strength to snap the bra in two sliding the material down her arms. Y/N notes how careful he is as he slides the broken material over her injured arm "your paying for that I hope you know" she smirks as she watches the tatters flow to the marble floor, her nipples start to rise to attention as the cold air of the room wraps around her uncovered body. He nods with a cheeky grin on his face as he lifts her arm up to examine it closely, running his thumb across the newly exposed flesh, a small pout forming at her condition before turning his attention back to her chest. 

Hyunjin places soft kisses against each of her nipples, using his thumb to rub soothing circles into her bare skin. She waits as patiently as she can with the sexual tension building between them until he finally wraps his lips around one of her nipples, licking his tongue over the hardening bud to soothe the slight ache from the cold air. He lathers her chest in attention before moving to her other nipple once he's happy to repeat his process, Y/N tugs a few strands of his hair to get his attention "why are you such a tease Hyunjin" she whines wanting more. He smiles softly as he hears her words and then looks deep into her eyes and gives her a kiss so passionate that it makes her protests melt on her tongue. His hand moves to cup her breast gently squeezing the flesh softly "I'm not teasing baby" he replies in a husky voice "I just want to enjoy every second I have with you" his reasoning makes her mutter to herself "you make it hard to be frustrated when your answer is so rational" she rolls her eyes playfully "you're wearing too many layers" she pulls the white suspenders down from his broad shoulders, moving to tug at the hem of his white t-shirt wanting it off.

He chuckles softly as he feels her fingers tugging at his shirt "you're right, I'm wearing far too much" he says with a smirk as he helps her pull the offending material off, a gasp leaves her lips as his sinfully sculpted body is revealed to her eyes. Her hand reaches out to run her fingers down the ridges of his muscled body "who knew you were hiding this under your clothes" she smiles in awe of his beauty. Hyunjin laughs softly as he watches her eyes unabashedly rake across his upper body, he leans back so that both his hands are free and moves to unbuckle his belt throwing that to the floor too "like what you see baby?" he asks her smugly, Y/N mutters a soft 'yes' almost in a daze as she lifts herself up off the bed to undo his button tugging the edge of his dress pants down "want it off Hyun" she tells him, pushing against his chest slightly so that he can stand and remove the clothing. Hyunjin smirks as he backs off the bed standing so that he can step out of his pants making sure to take his time letting her drink in his form. Before rejoining Y/N on the bed he also pulls down his boxers, throwing them off to the side to join the clothes lining the floor. 

Y/N gulps as she watches him crawl back onto the bed towards her, his impressive length standing to attention between his thick well toned thighs "I didn't realise you were so...big" she bites her lip as she watches him smiling impishly at her "will it even fit?" she squeaks as he tugs on her legs making her back land on his plush sheets, "oh it’ll fit alright baby," he says with a wicked grin as he rocks his hips forward making a hiss fall from his lips as his member rubs against her pants. His hands move to the waistband of her pants as he grips the edges ``now who's overdressed" he breathes out as he tugs the material down her legs leaving her almost completely bare to his predatory gaze. Almost immediately his head is between her thighs as he pushes his nose into the damp spot forming on her lace panties, his eyes roll back into his head as he inhales her scent making her cover her eyes with her hands in embarrassment. Y/N wiggles her hips as a whine bubbles in her throat "please Hyun'' she pleads with him breathlessly "shhh," he soothes in a deep tone as his tongue prods at her underwear. His teeth nip at the thin material between her legs as more of her wetness coats the panties "I'll give you what you want baby if you're patient" he smirks. 

Y/N grumbles in frustration and waits as patiently as she can, spreading her thighs to give him more room. Hyunjin holds her thighs apart with his hands as the crotch of her panties is completely dripping with slick, once he's satisfied with how riled up she is he rips her panties to shreds leaving her finally completely bare. Y/N's hands fist into the bed sheets as she waits for him to make a move, with a smirk Hyunjin lowers his mouth to her damp slit and licks up the pearls of wetness that coat her folds. His tongue twirls around her clit, making her buck off the bed at the sudden stimulation. He growls in satisfaction as he watches her quiver under his attention. A keening whine leaves her lips as her head falls back onto the pillow below her "Hyuuuunnn" she rocks her hips up to meet his tongue as he licks long strips up from her weeping hole to her throbbing clit "like that baby?" He asks, his face smug, he smiles wickedly before plunging his tongue deep into her folds. He licks and sucks, flicking his tongue against her clit in a teasing manner before pulling back slightly to drag his teeth along her inner thighs, leaving small nips in his wake. He licks up the slick that has trailed down her thighs, wrapping his arms around them as he moves his tongue back to her lips. 

Y/N nods her head vigorously at his words "yes, yes" her back arches slightly off the bed as she tries to angle herself better for him "your tongue... so good Hyun" she babbles as her hands shoot down to his head, her fingers wrapping around his soft locks pulling his head closer to her body "don't hold back baby, let me hear you moan for me" he grins, his eyes glinting with mischief as he flicks his tongue against her clit in slow steady movements letting her feel every roll of his tongue. He smiles as he feels her hips bucking up involuntarily, he lifts up her legs throwing them over his shoulders as he moves one of his hands to push a longer at her entrance, his tongue rubs firm circles against her clit as he pushes his finger inside her hole. Her whines and moans increase in pitch as his finger starts to thrust at a steady rate, once he's sure she's comfortable she adds another finger pumping them into her fast curling them to hit that spot which makes her eyes roll back into her head. Her thighs start to shake around his head as she grips his hair tightly rocking her hips forward as his tongue licks up all the slick he can moaning at her taste. Hyunjin’s thumb replaces his tongue as he licks her juices off his lips seductively "that's it little one, give yourself to me" he groans as he watches the way her pussy tightens around his fingers, sucking them in deeper "can't wait to see your pretty little pussy wrap around my cock" he takes one last moment to enjoy the way her face consorts in pure pleasure before he's sucking her clit back into his mouth.

YN’s breaths come out ragged as she pants harshly "hyune, hyunnie I- I need" her fingers pull at his hair making his scalp burn slightly but it only pushes him further "you wanna cum baby?" He asks her sweetly as he watches her nod with tears streaming down her cheeks "need it...need it please" she barely knows what she's saying as her high creeps closer and closer teasing its way up her body as she chants and pleads. Hyunjin’s dick throbs at how sweet and desperate she sounds begging him to make cum, the thought alone makes precum dribble from his slit. Hyunjin adds another finger fucking her quickly as they hit her g-spot with every thrust "I've got you baby, cum for me~" her thighs cage his head against her core as they shake and tense.  Y/N cries out as Hyunjin's tongue circles her clit just right making her mouth drop open as her head and back arch, she's soundless as she cums her throat raw and tired. With a satisfied smile Hyunjin continues lavishing her clit with attention as she cums only slowing down as her body becomes less rigid and settles onto his sheets as her climax finally subsides, Y/N lays there panting trying desperately to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling heavily as she tries to regain control of herself. Her legs still locked around his head she whimpers as he finally pulls away licking his fingers clean as he does "good?" he asks with a wink and a smile

"good?" she repeats with wide eyes and her breaths coming out ragged "your tongue is... you're a fucking god" she giggles as she smoothes down the strands of hair she had been gripping. Hyunjin smiles proudly before kissing her thigh, he then begins nibbling on her inner thigh slowly working his way towards her core again. Hyunjin gives her abused pussy one last kiss before pulling back "glad you enjoyed it baby" he smirks as he admires his work, his pretty little human spread out over his bed with her chest heaving and covered in his marks. 

Once Y/N regains her composure she lifts herself up to rest on her elbows with a sneaky smile on her face "your turn Hyunnie" she pushes him down so that his back is on the bed and she's crawling on top of him, she smirks at his surprised face before lowering her face to place kisses over his shaft. She licks up the length of his dick circling her tongue over his slit lapping up the precum that had dribbled out. Hyunjin gasps as she takes him into her mouth, her warmth and wetness driving him crazy. His hands clenched into fists as he tries to control himself, every lick of her tongue on his cock sending waves of pleasure through him. Hyunjin hasn't been with anyone in a while making his sensitivity shoot through the roof, he whines prettily as his hands grip her hair "Y/N baby...n-need you to stop" she hums but doesn't move off of him instead she takes the head of his cock into her mouth sucking and licking as she moans at his taste "hm why Hyun?" she questions with a smirk dancing over her lips. She rubs his cock head over her tongue a few times before taking him back into her mouth slowly sinking deeper, she uses her other hand to hold the base of his cock pumping what she doesn't have down her throat. 

Hyunjin gasps as she takes him in deeper, the feeling of her hot mouth on his cock making him clench his fists into the sheets and his head falls back onto the pillows. His hips start to buck up into her throat without him realising what he's doing, whines and moans tumble out of his throat as he pleads with her "p-please baby, wanna cum in your pussy" his hand grips her head in an attempt to slow her down "if you don't stop now I'm gonna... gonna cum" his brows furrow as sweat clings to his bangs. Taking pity on him Y/N gives his shaft one last suck before pulling off with a 'pop' and a smirk, she watches as his breaths even out and he glares at her, with no real malice in the action, as he picks uses his increased speed to pick her up and throw her onto the bed with her giggling at his behaviour. Hyunjin gives Y/N a quick peck on the lips before he asks her "you ready?" She nods her head mumbling a soft 'yeah' before looping her arms around his neck to pull him to her body. Hyunjin gives his cock a few quick pumps before spreading her thighs and lining himself up with her pussy, he gives her one look before pushing in slowly letting Y/N feel every inch he has to give her as he fills her up completely pushing in to the hilt they both let out a long moan at the way he stretches her walls "fuck Hyun" she whines as he gives them both a moment to adjust. 

Once he's certain he won't hurt her he starts to shallowly thrust building up a steady pace as she digs her nails into his back. Hyunjin bites his bottom lip as he starts to speed up his thrusts, burying himself deeper with each passing minute. He can feel his climax approaching as he feels Y/N's pussy tightening around his dick; her walls clenching around him like a vice with every thrust, making him feel like he's being consumed by her. Y/N throws her head back exposing her neck as she is rocked back and forth, sweat slicked to their bodies "you feel so good Hyun" she whines as he drills his cock into her pliant body, his headboard knocking against the wall with each rough thrust. Hearing that only makes him go faster, pounding away at her even harder than before, feeling her tight cunt gripping his cock with every movement he makes. He can hear her moaning below him as he leans down giving her a deep kiss. His tongue pushes past hers to taste her sweet saliva as he continues to fuck her, her scent envelops his body making him feel almost feral. 

Having his senses invaded by her body makes his mind conjure sinful thoughts that he dare not act on, his sharp eyes trained on the veins throbbing in her throat as he pounds into her almost like she can read the thoughts racing through his mind. Y/N slips her hand between their bodies rubbing quick circles against her clit "F-fuck Hyunnie, bite me" she moans out as his cock hits her g-spot roughly. His hips stutter at her request "w-what? Baby no I might hu-" she grips the back of his head giving him a passionate kiss "you won't" she assures "wanna feel you bite me as I cum" she whines as her fingers rub faster. The sound of her pleading voice sends shockwaves through his body, his dick twitching at the request. With a deep growl, he lowers himself down, his fangs extended as he bites down on her shoulder causing her to cry out in pleasure. Her sweet blood fills his mouth, making him moan with need as his fangs pierce her skin and his cock throbs against her walls pleasure shoots down her limbs "I-I'm gonna cum Hyunnie" with a final thrust and rub of her clit she falls apart in his arms, cumming hard with his name falling from her lips. Feeling her pussy tighten around his cock makes him slam his hips forward, burying his cock inside her pussy as he paints her walls with his cum. Hyunjin's fangs stay attached to her neck as he finishes feeding while they come down from their highs, panting harshly Hyunjin licks over the two small puncture holes left in her skin. 

Hyunjin places a soft kiss on Y/N's nose before pulling out of her walls "you might be a little tender for a few days sorry little one" he bites his lip looking worried for her, he licks over the wound one last time before settling down with her in bed "my saliva should help them heal faster at least" she shakes her head at his worrying "I'll be fine Hyunjin I promise" he nods gently, kissing her forehead softly before turning off the light and snuggling close beside her. His arm wraps tightly around her waist protectively "that's my good girl" he says, running his finger through her hair in thought. Y/N's eyes close for a brief moment as she enjoys his body against her own, Hyunjin nuzzles his nose against her own as he smiles "I want you to stay here tonight regardless of what happens between us, it's too dangerous to be out in the woods, especially at night" Y/N nods her head smiling at his concern for her safety. Hyunjin kisses her forehead ready to get some rest when an door slamming shatters the tranquility "Hwang fucking Hyunjin! Get your ass down here right now!" Y/N's eyes widen as Hyunjin shakes his head with a frown on his face "aaand Chan knows your here" he huffs out a laugh as he gathers his clothes starting to redress "I'll fix this mess baby don't worry" a yawn tumbles from her lips as she snuggles into his soft sheets "okie Hyun" the dark haired vampire smiles at her sleepy form before quietly leaving the room. Y/N's eyes are about to drift shut when she suddenly hears her vampire lover whine loudly "I know we aren't meant to! But hyung she's so pretty!" Shaking her head she giggles at his words, a smile etched across her face as she drifts off into a peaceful sleep. 

Banner by: @cafekitsune 💙

[qvinx]

~Stormy Embrace~

Walker Scobell x Fem/Reader

Summary: Y/n can´t sleep, Walker comfort her

Warnings: None

Word count: 1k

A/n:

Lying in bed next to Walker, his arms wrapped around me, I felt the steady rhythm of his breath on my neck. Outside, darkness shrouded the world in a foggy mist, and the soothing sound of rain tapping on the window filled the room with a serene melody. It was 4 a.m., and I had woken up five minutes ago, unable to fall back asleep. But that was perfectly fine, as this moment was one of pure comfort.

Walker had left his window slightly ajar, allowing the crisp, fresh air to drift into the room. Every now and then, a cool breeze would brush against my skin, sending a gentle shiver through me. The scent of rain mingled with the faint aroma of his shampoo, creating a calming fragrance that enveloped us. I nestled deeper into the warmth of his embrace, feeling the soft, smooth sheets against my skin.

The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a streetlamp outside, casting gentle shadows that danced on the walls. The occasional gust of wind rustled the trees, adding a faint whisper to the symphony of the night. Walker's room was a haven of coziness, with books scattered on the nightstand, a plush throw at the foot of the bed

I turned around, burying my face into Walker's chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. I tried to fall asleep, but suddenly my throat felt so dry. I turned again, swinging my feet over the side of the bed, letting them dangle for a moment before standing up. I walked over to the door, my hair in a messy bun, wearing one of Walker's shirts that was a little too big and a pair of grey shorts.

I opened the door, the light from the hallway spilling into Walker's room. Quietly, I closed the door behind me and tiptoed down to the kitchen. Opening one of the cabinets, I took out a glass, closed the cabinet, and turned on the faucet. The water splashed into the sink, and I placed my finger under the stream, feeling it get colder and colder before I moved the glass under it. Once the glass was filled, I turned off the faucet and took a sip, savoring the coolness.

I made my way back up the stairs and into Walker's room, surprised to see him sitting in his chair, facing the window. I walked up to him and settled onto his lap, leaning into him, my head touching his.

"Why are you up so late?" he asked, his voice still sleepy as he closed his eyes and leaned deeper into me, his hand brushing my thigh.

"I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep," I said, staring out the window at the rain still falling. His fingers traced gentle circles on my left thigh.

"Okay," he murmured softly, his lips barely moving. I set the glass down on Walker's desk, the cool surface contrasting with the warmth of his room.

Walker's chair creaked slightly as he shifted, his attention still fixed on the raindrops streaking the window. I lingered for a moment, my fingers grazing the edge of the desk, before deciding to return to his lap.

Settling back onto his right leg, I leaned into him once more, the steady rhythm of his breathing calming my restless thoughts. Walker turned his gaze from the window to me, his eyes soft.

The room was filled with the soft sound of rain tapping against the window, a soothing rhythm that matched the gentle movements of Walker's fingers tracing circles on my thigh. I rested my head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, and let out a quiet sigh.

"Y/N, you seem restless," Walker whispered, his breath warm against my ear.

"I guess I am," I admitted, my eyes following the raindrops as they raced down the glass. "Sometimes, it feels like my mind just won't shut off."

Walker shifted slightly, his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me closer. "Anything in particular on your mind?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

I took a moment to think, my fingers tracing the pattern on his shirt absentmindedly. "I just... sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me."

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. "What made you wonder that?"

"I don't know," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe since people started commenting on the things I do and how I do them?"

Walker tightened his hold on me slightly, his touch reassuring. "There's nothing wrong with you," he said firmly. "People can be thoughtless and cruel, but that doesn't mean their opinions define you."

His words hung in the air, mingling with the sound of the rain. I felt a sense of relief wash over me, though the doubts still lingered at the edges of my mind. We sat there in silence for a while, just enjoying each other's presence. The rain outside continued its steady patter, and slowly, I felt my eyelids growing heavier.

"Feeling any sleepier?" Walker asked after a while, his voice a gentle murmur.

"A little," I replied, nestling closer into him.

He said, his hand moving to gently stroke my hair. "Let's try to get some rest then."

I nodded, allowing myself to relax fully in his embrace. We stayed like that for a few more minutes before he gently guided me back to the bed. As I lay down, Walker pulled the covers over us, his arms wrapping around me protectively. I closed my eyes, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my back. The worries that had kept me awake began to fade away, replaced by the comforting presence of the man beside me.

"Goodnight," he whispered softly, his lips brushing against my ear.

"Goodnight," I replied, a contented smile spreading across my face as I finally drifted off to sleep, feeling safe and loved in his arms.

A/n: Do not copy my work or claim it as yours!

[vodika-vibes]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a fic about CX-2, because he needs some love and maybe a reader or S/O could rescue him from tantiss and take care of him and feed him good food and make sure he’s happy and healing

Idk if he is tech or dogma or anyone we’ve met before cause nameless clones deserve so much love and idk why I feel lowkey emotional, but it made me so sad when he got turned into a kebab, after all the torture and stuff he went through, I just wanted to hug him

Anyways, I hope you have a wonderful day!

In The End

Summary:  It’s been a year, 12 long months, since the last time that you saw CX-2. You went on a date with him, and then he vanished, with only a simple message saying that he had to work and that he’d contact you when he could. And then he fell off the face of the map. And now, almost a year later, and with the able assistance of a group of Wookie Mercenaries, he’s back with you, safely on your ship headed for the haven you’ve arranged beforehand.

Pairing: CX-2 x F!Reader

Word Count: 1359

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So as much as I love Tech and Dogma, I love the idea more that CX-2 is someone else entirely. So, here you have CX-2 being happy with his family. I just needed to take a break from my AU event, I have so many ideas for them, but it's like there's a traffic jam in my brain, I can't get the words to word.

Your knuckles are white as you grip the sleeves of your jacket. You’re very, very stressed. But then, you’ve been stressed for the better part of a year.

Hopefully, now that CX is safe, your stress levels will drop to a more reasonable level. And your medical droid will stop chiding you to practice yoga. That would be nice.

Speaking of said medical droid—

The door to the infirmary slides open and the silver droid hovers out and over to you, “The Patient is awake and aware. There seems to be no lasting damage due to his year-long confinement.”

“So I can see him?” You ask.

“He needs his rest.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

The Droid sighs heavily, a very human reaction you can’t help but notice, but then he nods his head. “You brought him food, I take it.”

“Uh, yeah,” You gesture to the small tray of some of CX’s favorite foods. A pasta dish, with some roasted veggies, and a proper dessert. 

The droid eyes the food critically, and then nods, “That is all acceptable.” He says, “I am returning to my charging dock.” And then, abruptly, he hovers off.

You watch him fly into another room, and then slowly stand and grab the tray of food. Hopefully, he’ll be happy to see you. It’d be heartbreaking if you went through all of this trouble, and he wasn’t happy to see you.

Lightly, you knock on the door and then press the control to allow the door to slide open when you hear an answer from inside. You step into the room, making sure to shut the door behind you before you focus your attention on him.

He looks…well, he doesn’t look well.

Oh, sure, he’s still the handsome man that you fell in love with. Only he’s lost a lot of weight, his abdominal muscles are clearly defined, not protected by the thin layer of fat that gave him a very pleasant squish. He also has bags under his eyes, and you’re pretty sure that there’s a hint of grey in his dark curls.

But he’s still CX.

Your name falls from his lips, he looks astonished to see you, and then he averts his gaze, as if ashamed of something.

And that just won’t do.

You cross the small room and set the tray of food on an open table, and then you reach out for him, stopping just shy of touching him. “I missed you,” You say, your voice soft.

His dark eyes snap to meet yours, and the smallest smile crosses his face. “I missed you more,” CX replies, his voice slightly raspy, and for once, you believe it.

He reaches up and takes your hands in his and pulls your hands to his face, and you eagerly cup his face, content to feel his warm skin against your hands again. You don’t fight him when his arms snake around your waist and he pulls you as close as he can without pulling you onto the bed.

He buries his face against your chest and just breathes.

You gently card your fingers through his curls, your other hand moving from his cheek to wrap around him, holding him as tightly as you can. Just enjoying him.

You lightly drop a kiss on the top of his head, “I thought you were dead,” You murmur against his hair.

He trembles slightly, “I’m sorry. I never meant to disappear.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You should be.”

“Never.”

He pulls back, and looks up at you, “Cyare,” this time his hands come up to cup your face, “You don’t understand, I’ve hurt so many people—”

“It doesn’t matter.” You reply, “Not to me. You didn’t have a choice, CX. I know that.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

You shush him gently, “We’re going somewhere else. Somewhere where the Empire can’t touch you ever again. You have brothers there.”

CX looks baffled for a moment, “Brothers?”

“I think they called themselves Nil…or null?”

He blinks at you, “We’re staying with the Nulls?”

“Yeah, when I was looking for you, I managed to stumble over them. We’ve been offered a place with them. They have a whole settlement for clones and their families.”

“Even clone assassins?”

“All clones,” You reassure, “What do you think?”

He looks uncertain for a moment, “I suppose we can try it out, and see if it works.” CX finally agrees, and then he pulls you in so he’s able to press his face against your chest again, “cyare?”

“Hm?”

“What scent are you wearing?”

“What scent am I—?” You pause and your face flushes, “Oh, right. I’m not, not really.” You gently push him back and lean in to kiss his forehead, “There’s actually something I need to get for you, I left it in my room.”

CX peers at you, “Can it wait?”

“It’s a surprise. And I think, well hope, that you’ll like it.”

CX watches you for a moment, and you smile at him reassuringly, “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He unwraps his arms from around you, “Alright,”

You beam at him and quickly drop a chaste kiss against his lips before you turn and hurry out of the room. You’re vaguely aware of him sitting up in the medical bed and swinging his legs off the edge as the door slides shut behind you.

You walk the short distance to your room, and don’t bother shutting the door behind you. There’s no need, you’ll only be in here for a moment, after all. You walk around your bed (big enough for you and CX to share), and lean over the much smaller bed, a loving smile crossing your face as you look at the face of your sleeping daughter.

CX’s daughter.

He vanished before you even found out that you were pregnant, so hopefully, she’s a good surprise.

You scoop Eli into your arms, adjusting her weight so she’s comfortably nestled against you, and you head out of the room. The scent that CX asked you about was baby powder, which you seem to always smell like since giving birth to Eli.

You step back into the infirmary, and CX opens his mouth to say something but stops when he sees Eli.

“...cyare?”

You sit on the bed next to him, “This is Eli, she looks like you.” You lightly brush a dark curl off your daughter's forehead, “Luckily, can you imagine if she got stuck with my hair color and your skin tone?”

CX doesn’t say anything, you glance at him and notice that he’s staring at Eli, wide-eyed.

“I found out that I was pregnant 2 weeks after you vanished,” You explain, “She’s 5 months old now. Would you like to hold her?”

“Can I?” He asks, his gaze darting to your face, “Am I allowed?”

“She’s your daughter, you silly man. Here.” You pass the baby over to CX, and adjust his arms so that he’s cradling her properly, “She’s a very calm baby, she doesn’t fuss a lot.”

Cx stares at Eli, mesmerized, “Was the pregnancy easy?”

You shrug, “Unimportant, I had plenty of help.”

“Cyare—”

You smile at him adoringly, “Next time, we’ll do it properly.”

He blinks at you, “Next time?”

“Um, well…if you want a next time.” You correct sheepishly.

You watch as he brushes a finger down Eli’s nose, “I’d like there to be a next time.” CX murmurs, “I can’t believe you gave me a baby.”

“Well, you gave her to me first,” You say with a soft laugh, “I’m just returning the favor.”

He glances at you and a genuine smile, the first one since you’ve been reconnected, crosses his face. “We’re going to be okay,”

“Of course we will.” You lightly lay your head on his shoulder, “We’re going to be better than okay, we’re going to be great.”

You feel him press his head against yours, “I love you,” The words are soft as if he’s not sure he has the right to say them, and you smile. 

You turn your head and press a kiss against his bare shoulder, “I love you too, CX.”

[lostyesterday]

Percentage of Star Trek Voyager Episodes Focused on Each Major Character

I’ve been thinking about which major characters Voyager spends the most time focusing on, and which characters are more often left in the background. I decided to collect data on this topic, and I made the following graph:

The percentage for each character on the graph represents an estimate of the percentage of the total number of Voyager episodes that are focused on that particular character. Double episodes were counted as singular episodes, bringing the total number of Voyager episodes counted for the graph to 160.

Episodes that I judged as focusing fairly equally on two major Voyager characters counted as half an episode for each of those two characters in my percentage calculation. I decided to do this because I felt it more accurately represented the overall proportion of time that Voyager allocates to each character than if I were to only count episodes that focused solely on one character. Episodes that focused equally on three or more major characters were not counted in the graph.

After tallying every episode that I judged as focusing primarily on either one or two major characters, 22% of Voyager’s episodes remained uncounted. These were generally episodes that focused on the crew as a whole, or on characters outside of the main cast.

Obviously, all of my decisions about which episodes to count for which characters are subjective. There are a lot of complicated questions to ask, such as, how does one draw a distinction between an episode focused on Janeway in particular versus an episode that focuses on the whole crew where Janeway takes the most significant role in the plot simply by virtue of being the Captain? Or how does one count episodes such as Someone to Watch Over Me or The Haunting of Deck Twelve where the major subjects of the story and the character whose perspective it is told through differ? I made my own determinations for each episode, but there is plenty of room for alternate interpretations, some of which might cause a significant shift in the allocation of episodes to each character.

I welcome any disagreement with or discussion about the methodology I used here. I also welcome analysis of what this data means – whether it reflects positively or negatively on Voyager as a show, how it fits with or contradicts popular perceptions, or anything else.

A full list of episodes that I counted for each character is below the cut.

Kathryn Janeway:

Parallax (with Torres – half points)

Time and Again (with Paris – half points)

The 37’s

Resistance

Alliances

Deadlock

Resolutions (with Chakotay – half points)

Sacred Ground

The Q and the Grey

Macrocosm

Coda

Scorpion (with Chakotay – half points)

Year of Hell

Concerning Flight

Prey (with Seven – half points)

The Omega Directive (with Seven – half points)

Hope and Fear (with Seven – half points)

Night

Counterpoint

11:59

Equinox (with Chakotay – half points)

Fair Haven

Good Sheppherd

The Void

Q2

Endgame

Seven of Nine:

The Gift (with Kes – half points)

The Raven

Prey (with Janeway – half points)

Retrospect (with EMH – half points)

The Omega Directive (with Janeway – half points)

One

Hope and Fear (with Janeway – half points)

Drone

Infinite Regress

Bliss

Dark Frontier

Think Tank

Someone to Watch Over Me (with EMH – half points)

Relativity

Survival Instinct

One Small Step

The Voyager Conspiracy

Tsunkatse (with Tuvok – half points)

Collective

Child’s Play

Unimatrix Zero

Imperfection

Body and Soul (with EMH – half points)

Human Error

Natural Law (with Chakotay – half points)

EMH/The Doctor:

Heroes and Demons

Projections

Lifesigns

The Swarm

Real Life

Revulsion (with Torres – half points)

Message in a Bottle

Retrospect (with Seven – half points)

Living Witness

Nothing Human

Latent Image

Someone to Watch Over Me (with Seven – half points)

Tinker Tenor Doctor Spy

Virtuoso

Life Line

Critical Care

Body and Soul (with Seven – half points)

Flesh and Blood

Author, Author

Renaissance Man

B’Elanna Torres

Parallax (with Janeway – half points)

Faces

Prototype

Dreadnought

Remember

Blood Fever

Day of Honor

Revulsion (with EMH – half points)

Random Thoughts (with Tuvok – half points)

Extreme Risk

Juggernaut

Barge of the Dead

Muse

Drive (with Paris – half points)

Lineage

Chakotay:

Initiations

Tattoo

Maneuvers

Resolutions (with Janeway – half points)

Unity

Scorpion (with Janeway – half points)

Nemesis

Waking Moments

Unforgettable

In the Flesh

The Fight

Equinox (with Janeway – half points)

Shattered

Natural Law (with Seven – half points)

Tuvok:

Ex Post Facto (with Paris – half points)

Learning Curve

Meld

Innocence

Flashback

Alter Ego (with Kim – half points)

Rise (with Neelix – half points)

Random Thoughts (with Torres – half points)

Gravity

Riddles (with Neelix – half points)

Tsunkatse (with Seven – half points)

Repression

Harry Kim:

Emanations

Non Sequitur

The Chute (with Paris – half points)

Alter Ego (with Tuvok – half points)

Favorite Son

Timeless

The Disease

Warhead

Ashes to Ashes

Nightingale

Neelix:

Jetrel

Parturition (with Paris – half points)

Investigations (with Paris – half points)

Fair Trade

Rise (with Tuvok – half points)

Mortal Coil

Once Upon a Time

Riddles (with Tuvok – half points)

The Haunting of Deck Twelve

Homestead

Tom Paris:

Time and Again (with Janeway – half points)

Ex Post Facto (with Tuvok – half points)

Parturition (with Neelix – half points)

Threshold

Investigations (with Neelix – half points)

The Chute (with Kim – half points)

Vis a Vis

Thirty Days

Alice

Drive (with Torres – half points)

Kes:

Elogium

Cold Fire

Warlord

Darkling

Before and After

The Gift (with Seven – half points)

Fury

[cantsayidont]

Something that bugs me a little about the reactions to LORD OF THE RINGS is the way that fans pointedly overlook the sometimes uneasy class politics that are involved in the relationship between Frodo and Sam.

This is in no way denying that it's a homoerotic relationship, which is something that comes through vividly even in the weird, truncated Rankin-Bass RETURN OF THE KING animated adaptation from 1980. However, it's important to understand that until the last few pages of the novel, Sam is literally Frodo's servant.

Tolkien is quick to stress, as stories from class-conscious societies often do, that Sam is happy and eager to serve Frodo, and willingly does so even when there's nothing in it for him, but the story emphasizes throughout that Sam is not the social equal of Frodo, Merry, Pippin, or Bilbo. When Sam calls Frodo "Master," it's not a D/S thing; Sam is Frodo's household employee (and in a sense his batman, which Tolkien said was the inspiration for their interactions), having essentially inherited that role from his father, who was Bilbo's employee. When, in the final chapter, Frodo tells Sam to marry Rosie Cotton and movie her into Bag End, he isn't proposing a menage à trois, he is offering to hire Rosie so that Sam can combine his marriage with his full-time duties. It isn't until Frodo tells Sam, on the way to the Grey Havens, that he has made Sam his heir that Sam becomes Frodo's social equal and the master of Bag End rather than the head of its staff. (Tolkien implies elsewhere that this caused Sam some legal trouble, since there was no indication that Frodo was dead or permanently gone — and if Merry and Pippin hadn't been there to witness Frodo's departure, people would have wondered if Sam did away with his master to try to steal his estate.)

Moreover, Tolkien expressly links Sam's perseverance, loyalty, and ability to resist the power of the Ring to his knowing his place. Toward the beginning, Sam's father recalls telling him:

‘Elves and Dragons! I says to him. Cabbages and potatoes are better for me and you. Don’t go getting mixed up in the business of your betters, or you’ll land in trouble too big for you, I says to him. And I might say it to others,’ he added with a look at the stranger and the miller.

Later (in "The Tower of Cirith Ungol"), Sam is tempted by the Ring, which shows him wild fantasies of his overthrowing Sauron and building a garden in the vale of Gorgoroth. However:

In that hour of trial it was the love of his master that helped most to hold him firm; but also deep down in him lived still unconquered his plain hobbit-sense: he knew in the core of his heart that he was not large enough to bear such a burden, even if such visions were not a mere cheat to betray him. The one small garden of a free gardener was all his need and due, not a garden swollen to a realm; his own hands to use, not the hands of others to command.

The word "free" is doing a lot of work here, since Sam is, back in the safety of Hobbiton, quite literally a hand for others to command; he tends Frodo's garden, not his own. But the point is that he recognizes his humble, inferior position in society and accepts it "freely," and that that choice gives Sam what Gandalf might have called the strength and good purpose to heroically resist a temptation that more noble and lordly types like Boromir could not.

My point is not that Sam doesn't love Frodo, which obviously he does, or the reverse, which the narrative makes plain. However, if you are not so reflexively comforted by classist fantasies of this kind, it's hard not to periodically stop and wonder, "Is this sexual harassment?"