#he may not be very open but he has his own strong convictions and he is slowly starting to open up but just starting
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zarekthelordofthefries · 1 year ago
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BG3 Companion Sexuality Headcanons
Astarion: Pansexual. Has a slight preference for men. Has a complicated relationship with feelings of attraction and connection, so doesn't usually like thinking about his own sexual identity. Thinks Wyll is the hottest other party member.
Lae'zel: Pansexual, kind of. Doesn't really relate to sex and gender in the same way as the Faerunian companions. Githyanki socially de-emphasize romance, and all sex is generally for pleasure since Vlaakith decides who bears eggs. Lae'zel is alloromantic, but romance isn't generally at the front of her mind in a relationship. Neither is gender; ultimately Lae'zel is attracted to conviction and fighting prowess, moreso even than anything physical.
Shadowheart: Bisexual. Very slight preference for men. (EDIT: I've rotated this in my mind after people pointed it out and I think actually Shadowheart has a slight preference for women.) Remained closeted into adulthood, not because the other Sharrans would discriminate against her (they generally don't care about sexuality) but because she wanted to impress everyone with how well she could keep the secret. Also, excessively kinky.
Gale: Bisexual. Has more experience with women than with men, but that has more to do with circumstances than preference. Though physical appearance isn't not a factor, he would probably describe himself as a sapiosexual; he's attracted to knowledge, intellectual curiosity, and strong opinions. Had crushes on several teachers in wizard school.
Wyll: Bisexual. Realized he wasn't just attracted to women at a young age, and his father was very supportive. No preference between genders, but one of his favorite things to do is court gentlemen exactly the same way he courts ladies; he likes being the devoted chivalric prince to men since he knows it's less common for them to be flattered and told they're beautiful.
Karlach: Pansexual. Years of being unable to make genuine connections with anyone have made her horny for affection, kindness, and commitment. Maybe had some gender preference before going to Hell, but her time there has given her lots of time to consider basically any options. Has at least a slight crush on basically every other party member.
Halsin: Pansexual. No gender preference. Halsin has had centuries to explore his sexuality, and his robust understanding of nature gives him a non-binary perspective on gender and sex. Nothing is a casual fling for this dude, though -- if you show the slightest bit of interest in him he will dedicate his whole heart to you. And also anyone else who shows interest in him at the same time.
Minthara: I didn't actually have Minthara in my party, but from what I've seen she seems like a pretty traditional drow, and when I think of drow and sexuality I sort of imagine a reverse of ancient Greek customs; bisexuality is the norm, men are prized for their beauty and for marriagibility, but it's expected that women will also have flings with other women, and those relationships are often considered more meaningful. I imagine Minthara follows those lines, being bisexual and assuming she may one day marry a beautiful man but being more inclined to meaningful, affectionate relationships with women, due to her own prejudices moreso than preference between genders.
Jaheira: Thought she was straight for the first century of her life, but has more recently opened up to other possibilities. Isn't particularly interested in marriage or a deep interpersonal romance at this point in her life, but she has entered a state of questioning her sexuality -- she's just not super interested in experimenting with actual relationships. She's got more important stuff to do. Did have a fling with Ninefingers that neither of them tell anyone about.
Minsc: Doesn't like labels. Minsc isn't interested in finding a partner, doesn't really care about sex, and is enthusiastic about romance mainly when other people do it. He hasn't given a lot of thought to where he might fall on any sexual/romantic spectrum, but he definitely sees beauty in all of his friends. He will give you the most heartfelt and often embarassing compliments on your personality, style, and appearance. Does that mean he's attracted to you? Maybe, maybe not, but there's definitely something queerplatonic going on.
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foreficfandom · 11 months ago
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POV: You Are Actually MUCH More Powerful Than Alastor (ch. 2 - "Flashbacks")
(Alastor x Reader, g/n, queerplatonic/sex and romance favorable, fan theories, God!Reader) (AO3)
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Alastor was always a man who craved control and attention. Ninety-odd years of being a demon has long since mutated his mortal desires into a festering appetite. While he was alive, it was a very mundane longing for the spotlight. Being the sought-after host of his own radio show was as close as being his own boss he could realistically hope for. The masses could listen and fawn over his charisma and humor while ignorant of his champagne hue.
If he wanted more, he would have to turn to drastic measures.
Young Alastor had made the station affluent, so they could afford to get their hands on any show recording they wished. One autumn, they aired The Witch’s Tale, a trailblazer for being the first horror-themed show on the radio. It garnered controversy from the conservative crowd, but ratings didn’t lie. New Orleans loved the series.
Alastor relayed the local news in his typical rapid-fire speech, a fashionable showman’s chatter made even faster thanks to his Creole blood, and as he speed-read his script in real time, he recited a quick advertisement for Madame Jones’ Hot Comb Oil before running the magnetic carbon ribbons of The Witch’s Tale. Voices of the actors took over the air. He drew a breath from a cigarette and leaned back on his chair. Alastor’s voice was now due for a rest until the current tape ran dry.
This was his first time hearing the show as well. Short horror tales were narrated by a fictional character named Old Nancy, one of the witches from Salem. The first tale was of a Venus statue come to life to slay the son of its sculptor, the second adapted from the real life confessions of the convicted Scottish witch Isobel Gowdie, the third clearly ripped off from Stevenson’s The Bottle Imp, and so on. After each tape, Alastor came back on the air for more news, advertisements, and the occasional social commentary. A quick joke about the Nipponese making waves on the West coast, a little update on McKinley’s first year back in office.
If he were to be candid, each episode of The Witch’s Tale was a gamble of hit or miss. Some were near contrived. But a few were quite satisfactory.
Most interesting was the narrator. After each tale, Old Nancy would reveal a bit more of her backstory. She never married. She grew her own food and earned her own money selling poultices. She may or may not have slept with both men and women. Her cat was a demon familiar. Her house was constructed partly from the bones of her victims.
Alastor found himself lost in thought. A young maiden, a pregnant mother, and an old widow swam through his mind. But the fourth woman … standing apart from the others, free from the grasp of a husband’s heavy greedy fist, proudly dangerous. A woman alone, but free. The maiden, matron, and crone, and now the witch.
Suddenly, Alastor saw himself repeated four times in place of the women. He was the scrawny teenage boy, then his current self, then a wizened old man, and in place of the witch was this enchanting visage of his long-lived personal fantasy, chest thrust upwards and smile brazen.
He tapped his fingers against his stomach as a strange thought overtook him. Could one become the witch?
Could Alastor be truly free from the Man’s grasp?
Hidden deep in the winding alleyways of New Orleans, voodoo was still going strong despite the coppers’ efforts. When mother was still alive, she would buy dry goods and miscellaneous wares from a small negro outlet run by Haitian immigrants, and locals knew that the shop’s upstairs hid a small voodoo church, an open secret amongst those uninterested in contacting police for any reason, even if they themselves weren’t practitioners.
Alastor knew nothing of voodoo. Mother was Lutheran, father had apparently been a loose Catholic. Church Sundays had tapered off by the time Alastor was nine, as did house praying aside from Christmas eve, and mother was near illiterate so there was no Bible reading. He never asked her if she was still faithful after dropping the more superfluous habits. Alastor’s heart ached at the thought of mother barred from the gates of Heaven.
He heard the horror stories of this dread voodoo religion. He, himself, has recited many sensational reports of sacrificial rituals and cannibalistic orgies, almost certainly all fear-mongering bullshit, but plenty enough believed that voodoo witches and warlocks used a black magic. Cursing good Christian families to die of plague, using living shadows to ensnare children away, poppets with needles, sigils that glow, that sort of malarkey.
If I could curse people, or control a tangible shadow, it would be a right gasser, he thought to himself.
A steady list of potential victims formed in his mind. Number one, the man who abandoned his wife and child to a stricken life of poverty. Just harmless daydreaming. Maybe.
Alastor used to say to himself, ‘thank God’ that mother was such a genius, otherwise they’d never have survived.
He wonders if he would soon be swearing different oaths.
To your nose, virginity didn’t have a strong smell or energy, but innocence did. The first time the two of you met, you had sensed Alastor’s putrid, gore-soaked body roaming the hotel long before he could sense you approaching the front door, although you allowed him to believe he had the upper hand. Murderers, especially those who lusted, were very blatant. A subtle pang told you that Alastor didn’t lust for flesh like many men did. His body smelled virgin, but more telling, his powers would not be affected should that come to change. After all, only someone uncaring of an aspiration would not evolve from achieving it.
Alastor was not innocent. Not like princess Charlie. Not like the children sinner souls.
He may not have a clue what Angel Dust meant by wearing a “special sort of ring ”, but hunger had many forms.
Flesh, blood, and bone were common sacrifices made to manifest power. A human’s physiology cultivated some of its greatest energy from fats and protein, so it made sense why Alastor’s curse would force him to fuel by consuming meat. But if he were in kinder circumstances, he might have instead been encouraged to eat any other sort of matter, or not fuel himself through food at all.
Clearly, Alastor’s debtors wanted to corrupt the man beyond what murder would do to his mind and soul. The more Alastor killed, the more he ate, the more powerful he grew, and the more he’d need to eat. He became a slave to his appetite.
You wondered if it was because they couldn’t affect him through his loins, so they chose the closest alternative.
In any case, Alastor did resent his need for nourishment, just not nearly as much as he resented the actual chains. It helped that he has always found fulfillment in creating, eating, and sharing food, and there was a very good place in Hell for that kind of attitude.
Cannibal Town didn’t become a proper, distinct district until Overlord Rosie’s rise to status. The industrial revolution had created a great epidemic of poverty, and many struggling in the developing American frontier had turned to cannibalizing the dead to survive, from the children to the elderly, only tapering off when a successful ‘20’s economy rose to the rescue. Rosie turned the predominant Edwardian-era population into its current image. Walking through Cannibal Town’s streets of petticoats and boater hats, it was like stepping back into one of your past lifetimes as a New Yorker under Taft, watching Florence Lawrence in picture shows and seeing oreo cookies on the shelves for the first time.
In fact, ‘oreo’ biscuits were sold in Cannibal Town, imitating their original tin box packaging, but they were made with rendered human fat rather than pork tallow. Rosie wanted her people to embrace their partaking, rather than languish in their past sins, or hide their undying appetite. Human flesh wasn’t an addictive substance, but cannibalism certainly was. It was as habit forming as any other ritual gesture, like how Vaggie wakes up in the morning to tie her hair ribbon right-over-left, or how Husk always arranges the bar’s bottle storage just so, or how Alastor uses an old pewter pot to boil his coffee over the stove fire. Many of these antiquated cannibals treat their slaying, butchering, and eating with the same love they used to have for the Eucharist.
Alastor’s affinity for Cannibal Town wasn’t quite because he felt kinship between their cannibalism. Fondness for Rosie aside, it was the best source of properly prepared human meat for sale, trimmed and bled as thoroughly as venison chuck. Passionate cook he may be, but he never had the patience for true butchering. Especially whilst mortal, and in Hell, a victim could easily be ten feet tall with several limbs. Who aside from the butcher had time to set aside eight hours for that?
No, Alastor’s reasons and fondness for partaking wasn’t commonly shared amongst the Cannibal Town locals. Most likened it to a sexual gratification. Many saw it as an alternative way to rape the weak. Some saw it as their only outlet for frustration. Some just wanted to fit in.
And to them, cannibalism was a very social hobby. Proper ladies found great sisterhood in tearing into a corpse like starving wolves, respectable men could now exercise their libido amongst other men by delving deep into flesh as a group. But whilst Alastor, too, socialized through food, eating mortal flesh was his curse, not his indulgence.
You knew for a fact that ever since the inception of his deal, Alastor's clause for cannibalism would quickly morph into an honest taste for it, but Alastor could only hypothesize if that was the case, or he just simply lost his mind sometime after his fourth killing.
Alastor shook himself out of his reverie as he approached the door to his favorite Cannibal Town grocer, you following close behind. He had been finding himself lost in his own thoughts more and more often, lately. No doubt due to your influence.
He could have shut down in complete bewilderment, but he was Alastor, damn it all, so he will garner the bravery to take the next step forward, then the step after that, and so on.
Towards a brighter future, he dared to hope.
He opened the door for you, and the two of you entered the little store. Like all grocers before the ‘50’s, the wares weren’t self-serve. Alastor summoned a paper list, and read off what he wanted to purchase. The mustached shopkeeper brought forward each item onto the counter before ringing them up on the register, using an old exertion scale for the fresh goods. A pound of dried red beans, a rasher of salted belly, a loaf of sugar, three pounds worth of scrap shin bones, and four red capsicums. You noticed that the capsicums - the bell peppers - were the smaller, pointier variety sold during Alastor’s lifetime, before cultivation increased their size and yield. Likewise, the sugar loaf was compressed into an old-fashioned triangular cone, wrapped in paper, not a pure white but a light flaxy yellow from its residue molasses. All the manufacturer’s labels were a parody of their living equivalents. The burlap sack of Camellia-brand kidney beans was of a bloody heart with green, thorny vines named “Carnillia”, instead of the original round flower.
The shopkeeper wrapped the raw meats into their own smaller bag. It went unsaid, but they were obviously human remains. You reached forwards to carry the groceries whilst Alastor was occupied with paying, but then said to you, “Nonsense, dear,” and reclaimed the load in a gentlemanly manner. A polite, but largely useless gesture, as it’d take monolithic mass to truly test your physical prowess, and Alastor had his own increased strength as an Overlord.
In fact, the last time you struggled to carry an object with all your true power, it had created a black hole where it fell.
Part of Alastor’s original deal for power was certainly to improve his meager physical ability, as he was like many young men who pictured their ideal self boasting some petal to the metal. His lean muscles did not swell, and he couldn’t bench-press an automobile, but he did find a great force behind his punches, and his running speed, and even when he twisted open a pickle jar. It had been a relatively mundane boon compared to his showier magic, but the knowledge that you couldn’t be physically overtaken was intoxicatingly empowering. Alastor finally understood why burly brutes acted so brazen, even if his silhouette didn’t display it.
Yes, his original deal was as righteous as any young person’s plea for bravery. But whilst some may only ask for a sword, he had asked for a legion.
And by mother’s grave, he got it.
Father had been his original sacrifice. He tracked down the drunkard squatting in a Chalmette hobo jungle, and knifed him in the belly until the wretch’s blood flow slowed to a crawl. He spent all night dragging the corpse across town and to the lake, right where the most notorious of voodoo orgies were said to take place, and mimicked the manbo’s ceremony, finger painting vèvè before shouting - begging, screaming, really - for anybody or anything to answer him.
He always tries to avoid remembering what came next.
Mother hadn’t passed, yet, but she was on her deathbed. She had been fighting scarlet fever for weeks, and pneumonia had developed. Alastor himself had a brief sick spell due to contamination, but he refused to move out of the house. If his mother was about to leave this world, he wanted to be there.
Mother’s pauper’s burial was baptized in Alastor’s second killing. A eugenic small-time politician one neighborhood over, who would have never achieved his meager position if it wasn’t for connections, thanks to the scandal of marrying his fourteen-year-old niece. For this attack, Alastor let his new powers bloom freely, but his inexperience left the corpse a complete mangled mess. Indeed, the shocking state of the body was what first sparked rumors of the Butcher Of New Orleans. Named so because of the man’s conspicuously missing flesh and organs, leading the police to rightly profile the suspect as a cannibal.
Life went on. Alastor’s mind and mood matured, and he hit his stride. He grew from radio host to radio star. He made plenty of honest friendships. He found innocent fun, and also learned to refine his not-so-innocent ones. By age 37, Alastor had a celebrity career, a Cadillac automobile, a sparkling reputation, and a total body count of twenty-eight men.
A month before he would turn 38, he found himself in hell. He remembered that his first action was to look around, expecting to see his father as if the man would, by chance, be standing on the nearby street corner. He looked up, and saw the glowing celestial body that must be heaven, high above and unreachable.
He wondered if mother was simultaneously looking down. Or was she still waiting for her dutiful son to show up and join her? Alastor had made great effort to ensure that mother never knew of how much of a monster her son really was.
Slowly coming back to the present, Alastor found himself wistfully looking at the morning sky as the two of you waited for traffic to halt. The haloed planisphere was partially hidden by daytime cloud cover, but one could spot the ever present gateway to heaven just about visible.
You followed Alastor’s gaze to the skies above. As remote as heaven may seem to the eye, you knew that it wasn’t a matter of distance. After all, heaven and hell weren’t places. They were states of being. You told him so last night, since he was under the impression that with just enough power, he could track down his debtor.
Unfortunately, if a suitably powerful being didn’t want to be found, no amount of searching would work.
He had bristled at that, fur on his ears standing, and paced away.
Then spun around with renewed, fake bravado, and said he would lure them here.
“How?” you asked.
He had no idea, but just twirled his cane into both hands with a closed eye grin. Apparently, he’d think of something.
Before the night concluded, he told you that all these earth-shattering revelations would have to be mulled over a hefty serving of his favorite comfort food, so you and him would dine privately a stew of baked beans. An especially fatty and. Well. Cannibalistic recipe of his.
So it came to be that the two of you left the hotel early next morning for some shopping, which of course caught the eye of nearby Niffty, who would most certainly be relaying the latest gossip to everyone else.
Let them talk. Alastor loved being the hottest gossip topic, and the friendships you choose to keep are yours alone.
Of course, most of them suspected that there was more than friendship involved. Not the wording you’d choose, but perhaps it wasn’t inaccurate.
There was divinity between the two of you, now. Every time you’ve muddled in mortal affairs, great cosmic connections formed between your souls. Inevitable, considering who you were, but they often had great repercussions. You considered every one of them worth the trouble.
That afternoon, the two of you entered the kitchen once more, but this time you stood by and watched as Alastor prepared a kettle to hang over his fireplace. Per his request (demands), you arrived to his room at eight on the dot to his little table set with sliced bread and a decanter of whiskey. The pocket swamp beyond was darkened and dotted with lazy fireflies. A radio station played, but not from the two sat on his bookshelf, nor emitting from Alastor himself, just directionless in the air as if the room itself breathed radio.
“Please, come on in,” he bowed, just a tad overweening. Say what you will about the man, he bounces back from existential despair pretty gracefully.
One of the seats slid out on its own accord. You sat obligingly to the tantalizing smell of spice, partially masking your ability to detect the human remains in the stew. As Alastor sat across from you, the disembodied radio chatter in the air twitched frequencies to instead play a wordless ballad.
“I took the liberty of choosing tonight’s choice of drink,” he said, pouring whiskey for the both of you. “I know it’s a bit early in the evening for the mule, but indulge this pitiful sinner.”
“It’s your meal, after all.” And true enough, Alastor stood no ceremony in digging a spoon deep into his bowl. Alcohol had its particular effects on you, so you reversed the fermentation of your whiskey into a poof of evaporated ethanol and a wet pile of sugar, mostly to amuse yourself, also to sneak a pinch of malt into your bow to cut some of the fat. Alastor had made the stew so rich, you could probably alchemize a toddler from the lipids.
You watched as Alastor relished deeply in his first spoonful. Fats, you remembered, was sometimes a more affordable grocery than sugar or flour, depending on the slaughter season. A poor Alastor would have grown up being treated to cheap, streaky bacon more often than beignets or hot cocoa.
“Just as mother made it,” he sighed wistfully, as if reading your mind. Far from the first time he’s mentioned his mother aloud, but before it had always been a set up for a jape, his comedian nature never at rest, and not unfiltered sentimentality. He must know that it was useless to hide secrets from you.
You forwent the malt sugar to taste the dish as it was intended. Surprisingly, it was shockingly laced with pure intentions that caressed your tongue and made tears well up behind your eyes. You didn’t think Alastor was capable of it.
It tasted like love.
Maybe he had more of a chance than you first thought.
Supper continued throughout the night. Alastor downed one, two, and was working on his third bowl before the conversation turned to the elephant in the room.
“- and when I kill the wretches souls who’ve clipped me like a duckling, I’ll -”
“Cool the jets, Alastor. We’d have to find them, first.” You stepped in before he could wind himself up.
“See, I’ve been thinking,” he took a hearty swig from his third glass of whiskey, "take it from a man with a couple of his own eggs in the basket. You know what makes a debtor knock on the front door faster than a twinkle?”
“What?”
He grinned angrily. “If he thinks there’s more debt to be had. You spot a way to keep your favorite minion closer to your chest for longer, you take it before someone else can.”
With a twist of his wrist, he downed his glass and slammed it none too quietly on the table. His eyes no longer meeting yours and burning holes into the wall over your elbow. “So! You help me advertise my devilish self as desperate for another deal, or perhaps just a clever amendment clause or two, and I promise you, they’ll show up.”
“And then what’ll we do?”
“End their wretched lives! What else?”
“Life began millions of years ago, and it hasn’t stopped since. Your jailer has long since learned to take advantage of that.” You calmly lounged with loosely crossed legs and arms, while Alastor was beginning to hover over the table like an angry ape. “There’s no way to ‘end their life’ in a manner you’d care about.”
With his face so close, you could smell the whiskey on his tongue along with an unfortunate whiff of antiquated dental hygiene standards. He wasn’t quite yet drunk, but was certainly not sober.
Your words gave him pause, but a radio star never let dead air stagnate. “Well, perhaps it was never a matter of killing them. No proper creditor makes their debtor more powerful than he.”
You said, “Your leash has its share of loopholes and weakness, like all contracts do. There’s never a way to fully avoid them, so most make additions that forbid them.”
Green stitches all along his maw. In one blink, you saw Alastor in his full pitiful glory, glowing neon-bright inverted hues, rotted body held together haphazardly with unforgiving threads. In another blink, Alastor was his normal outward self.
Back and forth you flipped your vision, trying to find any clues or conclusions. Snipping the threads would just make him fall apart. There must be a gentler conclusion.
Suddenly, you remembered what he said. “Alastor, how many debtors do you own?”
“Oh, I can’t remember the exact number. Ninety years is a long time. The answer’s somewhere in my ledger, I’m sure,” he waved a hand.
“Lend me a look. Please,” you added when Alastor’s glare turned vicious, “it’s important. You can trust me.”
“Now, how in the world would my own roster matter to my predicament?”
You leaned forward, meeting Alastor’s couched posture in the middle. “I made a promise, didn’t I? I promised you true liberty. If you want my help, then let me help.” You kept your voice low as if whispering a secret, even though no one was around to overhear. No one Alastor could see, anyways.
A heartbeat passed, then another. Then, with a great crackling of old vertebrae like he had suddenly aged decades, Alastor reigned in his defenses.
Has he ever yielded so completely since granted his powers? No wonder it felt so dreadful, like shaking off a carpet of cobwebs.
Never let it be known that Alastor was a chap who couldn’t learn something new, you heard him think bitterly. A dry exhale aired throughout the room as elongated shadows retreated, electric bulbs shone brighter, and the fireplace changed from eye-searing blacklight back to its natural warm glow.
Nonchalant smile back on his face, Alastor wiped his hands with a napkin and stood.
“Ah well. No time like the present, then?”
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the-world-of-nai · 1 year ago
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birth chart analysis: harry styles
today we are analyzing our air king, harry styles. i have noticed i've only been analyzing women so i wanted to switch it up. harry's chart kinda scares me, at least his big 6. anyways, let's get to it!
DISCLAIMER: this is just my interpretation of and opinion on his chart. it is not absolute truth, nor do you have to agree with it, but i'd like to hear your thoughts in the comments :) every sign has its shadow traits. i have aquarius and libra in my chart, but i will be pointing out the shadow traits of these signs. astrology is just for fun, not that deep. i feel the need to make this disclaimer as people are seemingly offended by some of my astro notes...
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sun in ♒︎, 11°
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ah yes, the aqua sun. what is there not to love? the pickmeisha behaviour? the emotional unavailability? the know it all syndrome? LOL ANYWAYSSSS BEFORE ALL THE BUTTHURT PEOPLE COMMENT I WAS JUST KIDDINGGGGGGG (i am an aqua myself, okay? i'm allowed to make these jokes💅). so this placement makes harry a mercury influenced aqua (if u are dumb that just means he is an aqua with some gemini vibes sprinkled onto him). off the bat, we can say that harry is a humanitarian at heart. he wants to change the world and be known for some big innovation. he has a way with words. he likes to learn new things, but he is quite set in his own convictions. harry believes that he is smarter than most people, and he is probably right. developed aquarians are open-minded, but they are hardly wrong about things so their beliefs/convictions don't change much. the shadow side to this is (drumroll plz) KNOW IT ALL SYNDROME!!! with all that aqua in his chart, harry believes himself to be a genius but he is also above the school and education system. 2 cool for skool. did i mention how rebellious he is? harry is a stubborn person in general. he is either super traditional, or super liberal in his beliefs. he does not like to follow the crowd. he likes to come to his own conclusions on things and he has a dislike of sorts for those who cannot think for themselves. harry is eccentric, social, friendly, accepting of others, and a bit flighty if anything. he has some special snowflake syndrome for sure. he likes getting attention for his innovative ideas. he wants to be a pioneer of sorts. he likes to stand out for his uniqueness, so to speak. he wants to help the world and make it a better place. i mean, just look at his merch LOL. he wants to encourage people to be their most authentic selves, because he cannot imagine not living that way.
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moon in ♎︎, 11°
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bro idk what it is with these celebs and libra moons! 3/4 of my analysis now have libra moons. it does add up though because libra moons value social status and luxury. harry is charming, emotionally aloof, attractive, and likeable. he is someone who does not like conflict. he values peace, harmony, and manners. MANNERSSSS. he is polite and sweet to people. he may be fake sometimes and pretend to like people who he doesn't like lol. he knows how to make others like/trust him and he can easily use this to his advantage (read: take advantage of other ppl after making them feel special and showering them with compliments!!). overall, he is very concerned with what is right. he will stand up to bullies, esp with that aqua influence. he likes fashion, luxury, status. he cares a good deal about his looks. he can be quite experimental/unique in his fashion tastes. he is not a very emotionally reactive person. it is rare to see him yell or get very angry. he is calm, cool, collected. a people pleaser at heart. he may have a strong conscience/gets guilty easily. he is indecisive on his feelings. he is a romantic and he longs to be in a partnership. he is very social and always wants to be around people because it energizes him, gives him meaning. the approval of others is important for his self esteem. without it, he may feel empty inside.
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asc in ♎︎, 28°
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again, it is all about the MANNERSS with this man. he is so polite and charming. all smiles and compliments. a 'gentleman' so to speak. he is medium tall, beautiful smile, pretty boy. always well kempt and effortless beauty. quite aloof and detached when you meet him (and lowkey always cuz like he's all air). he is the type of person that u meet and u swear he was flirting with you, but then u see that he flirts with everyone LOLLLLLLLLL. he may be a hugger. makes people feel quite special. again, cares a good deal about his looks. to harry, meeting new people is like a game: how fast can i make this person like me???
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mercury in ♒︎
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okay harry, we get it. you are not like other girls!! with mercury in aqua, harry likes to learn. he likes to write. he may be good at learning languages. he has a way with words, albeit a bit of a unique way. he is curious. he is fun to speak to. he may be interested in weird niche things like the occult, anime, poetry, etc. he likes to know about the world. could also be into debating and/or politics, esp with that libra in his chart.
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venus in ♒︎
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more aqua, are we shocked?? taylor swift also has a venus in aqua,,, soulmates? so basically this means many things. harry treats his lover like his best friend. this can make his lover wonder if they're even special at all lol. to his loved ones, harry is generous, caring, friendly, accepting, understanding, and quirky. though he is non-committal and flighty as well. he values mental connection above all else. he wants someone who he can have good conversations with; someone who stimulates him mentally. he may be the type who is open to poly relationships LOLLLLLLLLLL or like sexual experimentation?? with all this aqua lmao. he has a very unique/eccentric sense of style.
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mars in ♒︎
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harry does NOT CAREEEEEEE. he does not get mad or vengeful, he is a just a go with a flow dude who wants to have a good time. harry does not hold grudges either lol. again, he is rebellious and marches to the beat of his own drum. he does not like to be told what to do. he honestly could not give less of a fck what other people r sayin. he has his own methods when it comes to getting his projects done. his work ethic is: i will work when i feel like it! and if u tell him to work, he is less likely to do it because it triggers his aqua rebellion instincts.
anyways it's kinda hard to elaborate further cuz this man is just an aquarius through and through LOL.
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thank you all for reading! lmk your thoughts below. who should i do next??
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electricbluebutterflies · 7 months ago
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Hiii! Can you write about Jessica and Leto consummating the binding? Preferably touching what they’re both thinking with a bit more focus on Jessica.
I tried to write more deliberate nsfw than usual and... almost 2.5k of feelings happened. Also on ao3 / prompt-comp 5 let's go!
This is what she was made for.
This is what Jessica reminds herself as she hears the soft click of the door. Her entire life so far has built up to this moment; there is a good chance that the entire rest of her life will hinge on how well it goes, and-
All she has to do is be compliant and keep her eyes open. Two things she very much does not want right now.
She has not been given time to process the details of her placement – an important part of how these things work is how quickly a Sister must adapt to unexpected conditions, and from what little she’s pieced together she is in a better situation than most. There is no wife to avoid here, and the man they gave her to is still young, and-
Still young. That means this placement will last longer. That means more pressure. That means-
He stands out of reach, in a cold room she knows does not belong to either of them. She is unsure what her own living arrangements will be here, but she heard something about the importance of the consummation happening in a neutral space and she isn’t sure why and-
She does not yet know this man’s specific reactions – they have been bound to each other for three hours, even she is not that good – but she knows general emotional signals and she tries to read his. Hesitant and guarded and displeased but not-
“We don’t have to do this right now.”
His voice is low and calm and she senses restraint in it. If he felt safer he would be more concerned, she thinks, but he is… she knows nothing of him specifically, but the bloodline is prominent enough and he must be one of the rare ones who isn’t completely-
“We do,” she counters. “To complete the binding. It is not considered… proper until you have touched me.”
He glances away for a moment and she notes the deep breaths. If he were not strange to her, she would offer her fingertips on pressure points to calm him; she suspects she will do that often in time, once he trusts her enough, but right now they are so new and-
“We could lie. No one here would counter me.”
“You will find that I am a terrible liar. If you do not want me, you do not have to do this again, but-“
“And if I do not know whether I want you?”
Her understanding of the world does not give space for such uncertainty, but that too may have to be an adaptation, at least for a time, at least-
“Pretend. Just for a few minutes. Close your eyes and think of whatever you must, just-“
“I would not dishonor you in that way.”
Prone to strong convictions, she senses. She will have to alter that, first towards her and perhaps as a more prominent flaw later, she will not make her plans right now but her goal is to find every weakness and-
“It would not be dishonor if I suggest it. If you are unsure of me…”
“Unknown,” he corrects. “And in a better world I would have been given time to court you before asking you to be alone with me in this way.”
“But that is not the world we live in.”
“I barely had time… I’ll show you your rooms in the morning, no one’s done anything to them in a century but-“
“I do not require much.”
“So they said, but you are still… part of the household now, and you will be treated accordingly. Whatever deprivations you expected…”
“I expect nothing. I was not told my specific fate until transport. I was prepared in a general way, but-“
He mutters an expletive she barely catches, and it is becoming apparent that his frustration isn’t her specifically but she will still be the easiest thing to take it out on and-
“Forgive me. I did not know. All the more reason to be cautious with you.”
“Will you at least come closer? Or would that too be too close to violation?”
He complies, and she will learn the way he moves later but for now she glances for signs of weakness and finds none. There is a presence to him once he is within her reach, and if she hears talk in the coming days of how charismatic he is she will not be surprised, and-
“I will not hurt you. I do not expect you to believe me, but-“
“I will try. You are already more gentle than I expected.”
“We are in an impossible situation. It would be cruel to assume you are any more delighted by it than I am.”
“What I feel has never mattered. Do not concern yourself with it now.”
He takes her in and she wonders how she must look through outsider eyes. Hair up and completely covered, a black lace dress more formal than anything she’s worn before, the slightest hints of what she might look like beneath it and-
“Do you want this?”
“Do I need to repeat myself? I am yours. Treat me like it."
He tilts his head and takes a kiss, softer than she expects. He has done this before and well, she suspects, and will know what he prefers to do with a lover, and it will be easier to learn existent preferences than to create them, and-
“Tell me if anything is unpleasant for you. I would not want-“
“I am meant to be cooperative.”
“Outright painful? Will you at least speak of that?”
Jessica is unsure to what extent her body can process pain, especially right now, and she could easily turn her senses lower to ignore, but… that does not seem to be what this man wants from her, and-
“I will try. I will endure, but-“
“You have never done this, I assume?”
“I have not.”
“More reason for caution. I am unsure… what you know, but-“
“I do understand the theory of what is expected of us, but not-“
He makes a low noise, almost displeased but again not-
“I will not have you fear me.”
He takes another kiss, and his hands slip up beneath her veil, finding and removing the pins that keep it attached to her body. There is something reverent in the way he touches her, and he takes her lower lip between his teeth and she feels something warm spike inside her and she makes a shrill sound and-
He recoils immediately, wide-eyed. “Was that displeasing?”
“Quite the opposite. I would like… if you could continue doing that…”
He resumes his attentions, eventually getting her veil off and to the ground and then moving to undo her hair. This too takes time, and she ignores the pain of a hairpin going the wrong direction for a heartbeat as he figures out their placement, and-
“You could touch me too, if you want.”
“How would you like-“
“Hands on my shoulders. It might be easier if I remove my jacket first, if you don’t mind-“
She takes half a step back and watches him do so, assesses what she learns about his body from the removal of an outer layer. Solid build, not quite yet what he will become but the structure is there and-
She will not mind the sight of him above her, she thinks, and this too makes her warm.
He pulls her in again and she places her hands as she was told and she decides that she likes being kissed with his hands tangled in her hair and-
“How do I remove your dress?”
“Let me. It’s not… most of what I have is far less complicated, I promise-“
“I don’t mind complicated.”
“I’m supposed to be accessible, so-“
He gives her a look like that will be a conversation for later, and then he is distracted by her. The dress has some difficult closures at the neck and wrists – keeping it on her, she thinks, which should be a negative given what she has worn it for – and it takes her longer than expected to undo them, but she manages to get them loose and the dress over her head and she stands there so cold in just a black slip and-
“May I hold you?”
“I would like to get this over with, but-“
“It’ll be more difficult if you’re an icicle.”
He does have a point, she thinks as he wraps his arms around her. She supposes private spaces will be warmer and this issue will not continue, but-
His fingertips find the hem of her slip and bring it over her head, and she is completely exposed and aware of her flaws. Not much of a figure, not unpleasant to look at but certainly not-
“Stay with me,” he murmurs as his hands wander. “Please. Give me that.”
She learns his hands in the movement of them, as he maps her skin. He is not looking for weakness, she notes, merely for where she is soft and where she is responsive and-
Two fingertips slip between her folds, and she focuses her senses on the space between her thighs, and-
“Am I… adequate?”
“Much more than that,” he murmurs. “I am unsure how much you will hear, but-“
“Talk to me. Whatever you’re thinking right now-“
“I will be more certain when you are under me, but-“
“As long as you are pleased.”
He detaches from her long enough to remove the rest of his clothing, and she knows she ought to focus more on what she sees but anticipation is starting to consume her, and-
There is an easy confidence to him, she thinks. It is perhaps unnecessary for him to completely undress, but it will be easier for her and she sees the mindfulness of that, words said earlier repeating over and over in her head, I will not have you fear me and she believes him now, she-
“It will be easier if you lie down and make yourself comfortable first.”
She is unsure about her own comfort at the moment, but she can at least position herself on the bed, on her back with her legs parted and she repeats every mantra she knows in her mind and she is unsure it is enough and-
“This may not be the most… a slight discomfort, if it is more than that please-“
“I had heard it was expected that I bleed.”
“No one here will ask to see a sheet for proof, if that’s what you-“
“Not for anyone else, but that you might… want that confirmation that I have not-“
“You have given more than enough confirmation, and I am not particularly concerned with such things. Not as you were told. It would be unfair to hold you to standards I do not meet, and-“
“So you have had lovers.”
“Have had, yes, but do not keep. You need not fear that. This… you change everything. I would like to think that I am loyal, and-“
“I would not expect it.”
“Your low expectations may be the worst thing about you,” he murmurs, and he does not sound as disappointed as such a statement might imply and-
He straddles her thighs and returns his fingers to her slit. She does not know why he takes such time with her, but a fingertip rests on her pleasure nerves and she can’t help but flinch and-
“Focus,” he murmurs. “I can at least…”
He takes a deep kiss, puts more pressure on her pleasure nerves, and sheathes himself inside her. There is too much going on at once and she feels herself overwhelm, feels her breathing catch and-
“Could you stay like this for a moment? Let me adjust? Please-“
He complies, and she processes new information. The weight of him above her is warm and she could melt into it, and the space of their collision… he had warned about discomfort and been correct, but the stretch is not completely unpleasant, and-
The rest of his body is near-perfectly still, but his fingertips move against her pleasure nerves, making her ache, making her-
“If you must do that, move in me.”
He rolls his hips against hers, and she feels what is not said, that he would prefer her to at least be warmed by their intimacies, that he would-
Jessica feels her body tense and then just as suddenly release, and there is nothing but this, but her and the man above her and-
“Was that-“
“Yes,” she breathes. “Thank you.”
He continues his movements until he spills inside her, and the tension of his back under her fingertips is pleasant, and… if this is to be such a part of her life, she will not mind, and-
He moves off of her almost immediately but not far, lies beside her and entwines their hands, bringing hers to his mouth, and-
“I hope that was not-“
“I am unsure,” she murmurs. “But you are not… you did not do harm, and I-“
“Would it trouble you to allow such affection sometimes?”
“I will allow whatever you want. I am made for-“
“Ignore what you are for a heartbeat. If you had control, if you knew I would hear you-“
“I don’t know that yet.”
She suspects this will become a recurrent fight between them, and something in her likes the idea of feeling that safe, and she could, and-
She is still overwhelmed, even after their bodies still, even after she rests her back against the man she is now bound to and tries to stay calm as he plays with her hair. She is still unsure what she has been pushed into, and-
She will endure. She knows that much. Maybe, she thinks, maybe in time she will do more.
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a-tale-of-legends · 1 year ago
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It's hard to define what exactly counts as the "old" and "new" protags since they're constantly growing, but here's a run down of how I see the older protag ocs when they were kids....as in actually protagonist.
Jin- Angry, has daddy issues. Wanting to prove themself despite no one asking them to. Petty rivalry with Amber that turned into a big crush. Calms down around Wally, only cause they don't want to scare him. Actively questioning why they- the 12 year old- is fighting eco-terrorist.
Amber/Kohaku - Energetic yet awkward gal, very athletic. Started on the wrong foot with Jin, starting their rivalry....which turned into a big crush ( but that happened a tiny bit later for her). Loves pokemon and wants to know as much as she can about them. Amazing battler but that isn't her priority. Wants to get closer to her dad via studying pokemon ( so she too has daddy issues)
Kenji- Another energetic kid, dreams of being a hero like the famous Red. Very excitable, occasionally loses focus and tends to be reckless. Likes helping in any way he can, even if he finds it boring. "I'm gonna be the very best >:D". Wants everyone, both people and pokemon, to be happy and hate seeing people hurt.
Aiko- Just as excitable as Kenji, though wasn't that interested in battling til Silver called her weak. Not sure what she wanted to do with her life, not sure if she wanted to take up her dad's mantle as a pokemon professor. Stubborn with a strong sense of justice, is not afraid to throw hands.
Beryl- Only planned to be a professor's assistant to Professor Elm. Was not expecting to be the babysitter to two energetic 10 year olds. She takes it the best she can, aiming to fill the Pokedex. They want to prove her older brother wrong, in that being a professor's assistant is worth something. Level headed and honestly very chill, keeps Aiko and Kenji on a leash, while also being the first person Silver properly opens up too.
Danica- Very quiet, borderline creepy girl. Doesn't emote much, no thanks to her scarf covering her mouth and her bangs over her eyebrows. Only friend is Barry, who isn't put off by her at all. Always had an interest in battling and pokemon, and had the goal to be a champion for a while. No one knows what she's thinking, and has an eerieness around her. But she has a good heart, willingly putting herself in danger even at her own risk ( reminder that this girl is 11). May or may not be a bit battle hungry. People think she's the brains for Barry's brawn but honestly they tend to share the same braincell.
Kiran- Son of a problem professors aid, Kiran is Rowans professors assistant that is honestly rather lazy. Rowan forces them to go out with him one day and all of a sudden he's now taking a journey all over Sinnoh, something he was not planning to do whatsoever. But Rowan is insistent that he accompany Danica and Barry so here he is. He's trying ( key word: trying) to fill up the Pokedex for professor Rowan, all while getting wrapped up in Team Galactic which again, he did not plan for. Wants nothing more than to go home and crawl back in his bed....but he would be lying if the situation didn't urk him. Often it is the one raining Danica and Barry in so they can think of a proper plan. May or may not also be trying to stick it to his little sister who somehow has gotten more academic awards than him.
Alexis: A shy kid with big dreams of being champion. Cautious to a fault, Alexis tends to worry about what his journey might bring. He had a right to worry; he is a nuzlocke protagonist. His anxiety and depression grows worse over the course of the journey, but also his ideals and conviction to stop Team Plasma and help N. His friendships with Cheren, Bianca and his twin sister Elliot keeps him together, as well as the surviving members of his team. He's still not in a good mental state by the end of it all.
Elliot: Alexis' rebellious and loud twin sister. She's younger, don't believe her lies. Ready to take on the world and become champion, she wasn't exactly prepared to face Team Plasma and N. However she saw the way they affected her brother and those she cares about and saw red. She has a fighting spirit, and is stubborn to a fault. She hates seeing the ones she loves hurt, and vows to use all the power she has to give those who caused such pain a severe ass kicking.
I think B2W2 and XY are the transition point of the old era to the new, so I won't be going over them here.
Here's the ages of my ocs in their respective game
Jin- 12
Amber - 12
Kenji- 10
Aiko- 10
Beryl- 13
Danica- 11
Kiran- 12
Alexis - 14
Elliot - 14
This is from Emerald/ORAS to BW, if that wasn't clear before.
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offsidekineticist · 1 year ago
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16 for Theoven?
Oooh, that's a tough one.
16. What do they look for in a friend? A love interest?
Theo wants to be everyone's friend, and he often is, but I'll focus on what he looks for in a close friend.
So one of Theo's big issues is he has trouble grasping his own agency in a lot of situations, and relationships are kind of ground zero for that. When he and Seelah become close friends, it's not because he cultivated a friendship or consciously decided she would be a good and trustworthy friend. It's because she snuck past his walls (or barreled through them, as the case may be) - he doesn't really let people in, so the only ones that can get close are the ones who can find their way in anyway.
In timelines where he's able to grow and heal, he does start opening up to people and deliberately cultivating friendships, and in those cases the common denominator seems to be strong convictions and a passion for bringing about justice (not necessarily legally...)
As for love interests...at the time he becomes KC, his self-esteem is such that if he has a crush (and he forms crushes easily), and they return his interest on any level, he's pursuing that relationship to the ends of the earth, probably by ignoring his own emotional needs. Once he's matured, though, he looks for the same things he looks for in a friend, plus empathy, respect for boundaries, and ability to compromise - he's ace (sex neutral or repulsed depending on the day), so he needs a partner who's willing to accept that sex will never be something Theo enjoys for its own sake, and on some days it will be a complete non-starter.
He also doesn't consciously look for it, but...he likes guys with a harder edge. Something about someone being very bad at love and kindness but still trying just makes him melt.
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fistfullofmilkcaps · 2 years ago
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CHAPTER 3: EINE KLEINE
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
      Chance sets his backpack down on a cement slab at the park. This is the same park where he battled Leo yesterday. The same place he got wrapped up into this whole “pog apprenticeship” nonsense. Shout is already laying down, doing stretches in the grass.
      “Well, Mr. Otsuka? Do you care to join me?”
      “I suppose, uh, Teach.” He sits down and mirrors her, doing toe touches. “Like this?”
      “Very good, Mr. Otsuka. Stretches are important to limber up, yes, but more importantly, to unfog the mind,” Shout lectures as if she’s 30 years her own senior.
      After a few more exercises, the pair get up. Shout moves from her standard stretching clogs to her pogging clogs. The 30 cm tall, reinforced foam soles make her taller than Chance.
      “Now then. Mr. Otsuka, before we begin our first lesson, I’d like to ask you a few questions about your IMAGE. It’s important to understand what I’m working with, so we can develop it properly.”
      The corners of her lips crawl up into an iota of a smirk. 
      “And to be quite honest, I just really wanna know what’s going on in your head! I want to cut into it with a surgical saw, y’know?”
      Chance blinks. Should he run about this?
      “Sorrysorrysorry! Not literally cut open! Sorry for not clarifying.”
      “No, I got that part.”
      “Oh, okay. Are you uncomfortable or may we move on to my interrogation? Interrogation figurative. Kinda. To clarify.”
      When going to bed last night, the high of getting sucked up into this pog whirlwind had started to subside and Chance had a chance to actually take inventory of what had happened that day. Ever since, he has been in a state of panic begging him to run from the people with the mind ghosts. The schoolday not easy to sit through, and he could pay less attention then he was usually able to muster. However, his sense of obligation to his task to become the best at pogging is keeping him rooted to the ground right now. He cannot tell if this strange girl is helping or hurting this prospect.
      “Yeah, ask away, I guess,” he mumbled.
      “Okay! Great.” Shout does a series of tiny claps like a seal with her hands joint at the wrists. “I find it interesting that you were able to summon an IMAGE so soon, especially at the level of an Avatar. An Aura would still be quite impressive, but being able to fully form an Avatar takes some level of conviction and a solid image of oneself. Meaning that Benkei… you have a strong tie to this character.”
      “First of all!” Chance slings back, “Benkei was a historical figure. The exaggeration of his famous acts is up to debate, but he was at least real.”
      “So quite the connection?’
      “...Yes.” Chance sighed.
      Shout glides over to a box and takes out a folding table and various milk cap game pieces. She continues the conversation without looking at Chance but maintains the same level of interest in her voice.
      “Would you be willing to tell me why you have such a connection to Benkei? From the information I’ve been able to gather about you, it seems you model much of your activities after the chara— excuse me, Mr. Otsuka — historical figure. The Godhand Middle-Schooler schtick you have going. Defeating strong warriors and such.”
      Chance twists his heel into the dirt. His leg jitters up and down without a sound.
      “‘No’ is an acceptable answer. We don’t know each other yet. I would hate to make you uncomfortable. You can tell me more once we become friends.”
      “Once we become friends?”
      “You do want to become friends, yes?” Shout asks as she looks at Chance for the first time since setting up the pogging materials. Her voice doesn’t hint it, but her eyes have a sad tinge to them.
      “Yeah! Yeah of course!” Chance assures her. He knows he’s a bit of a jerk, but he’s not mean. “I’m just surprised you’re thinking that far ahead. And being so forward about it…?”
      “As your teacher and future friend, I have too!” Shout hoots. “If we are to make it to the Slammer Summit, I have to make sure you are ready. And to be honest, you are our only hope for a third main team member at the moment, so I cannot lose any time. I do this in both of our best interests.”
      Shout pats her set-up pog table.
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      “Well then! In those best interests, I’m going to start you on the basics, Mr. Otsuka! Your fundamentals are quite good, but—”
      “Fundamentals?” Chance asks with an eyebrow cocked.
      “Yes, fundamentals! This is a competitive sport, of course, there are fundamentals. Don’t be a dummy.”
      Chance hadn’t considered it before. He nods his head in a careful way to not disrespect his teacher’s craft.
      “Okay!” She claps twice in quick succession. “Let’s begin.”
***
      The clock nears 5:00 and the sun is well into its descent beyond the horizon. Chance plops down exhausted into the grass. 
      Throughout the afternoon, Chance was led through a series of drills where Shout could access and correct his form. Being overly familiar with learning new skills, he was quick to transpose what he already knew from other sports. The first drill trained his angling and accuracy, the key to properly dislodging a pog from the stack and making it flip over. After he mastered flipping over one pog consistently, he was trained in power, the key to dislodging multiple pogs from the stack. Due to pogs being made out of a special cardboard composite, they have the ability to cling to each other unless a significant jolt disrupts their attractive force. Balancing power and accuracy is the key to the game.
      Shout was able to get Chance to be able to consistently hit a stack of four pogs with enough power to unbind all of them from the stack while also maintaining enough control to hit the stack in the right spot that they would all flip over and be counted for points. Most of their time was spent on the third drill: speed training. If a shot is not made within 10 seconds of a player’s hands entering the play area after resetting the stack, it is considered “slow play” competitively. After an hour, Shout was able to get Chance to be able to flip all four pogs over semi-consistently in a limit of seven seconds, imposed by herself. It was tedious, but she was working with serious talent in her eyes.
      Regardless, the exercise left Chance pooped. He stretches out on the grass like a tired cat.
      “Good work Mr. Otsuka! I’m proud of the progress we made in only one session.” She pops down next to him.
      Chance sits up on his side. “So you mentioned getting me ready for the Slammer Summit. That’s like a world champs type thing, yeah? Shouldn’t you be teaching me some more advanced stuff then, like that Atmosphere thing? Not that I don’t appreciate your lessons.”
      Shout chuckles. “Oh heavens, no! I’m not going to teach you to backflip before you can crawl. That’d be mean. But I will get to the Atmosphere training soon enough. You’ll have one before the pro exams.”
      “What are the pro exams like?”
      “Tough. There’s a lot of people taking them and a lot of people watching.” Shout croaks.
      “Well you must have been good to pass them!” Chance laughs.
      “I haven’t.” Shout says as the reflection of the sunset on her glasses obscures her eyes.
      The nearby river running by and distant traffic are the only sounds for a long time. Finally, Chance throws a human voice back into the mix.
      “Well, you will this time.”
      “Yeah?” she sniffles.
      “A student has to have faith in his teacher, right?”
      He holds his fist out to Shout.
      “Yeah! You better!”
      She shakes his fist like it’s an open palm.
      They both look into the darkening sky. Stars are beginning to poke through the veil and twinkle.
      “Welp! We should probably be getting back home by now. It’s dinnertime,” Chance yawns.
      “Mr. Otsuka,” Shout lingers, “Do you think… um… are we friends yet?”
      Chance breaks into a laughing fit.
      “Hey! No fair! You can’t laugh! I’m your teacher! Don’t laugh at that!”
      “Sorry! Sorry!” Chance collects himself.
      “You can say ‘no!’ You’re allowed to say ‘no.’”
      “Yes, Shout. We’re friends.”
      Shout waits a moment and stands up. Only a sliver of sunlight is left peaking.
      Without looking at him, she says, “I’m glad, Mr. Chance.”
***
      Two weeks have passed since their first training session. It’s a Friday, and the first day of March. The tournament that makes up the pro exams happens at the end of the month, during summer break. Time is ticking away.
      Even so, Shout has chipped away a sizable chunk of her lesson plans! Chiseling fundamentals and basic strategic theory into Chance’s head was not much of a challenge. She thought the next stage may have been more of a rocky cliff to climb, but to her relief, Chance fared well in the apprentice play groups at the Menko Association. At least performance-wise. As Chance had never officially played in a competitive event for any game, his etiquette was lacking. Hard to gain a sense of sportsmanship when his M.O. is usually to upstage someone! Rei dropped in occasionally between her duties as a pro to stomp Chance into the ground in a sparring match. To the boy’s credit, he would have won a number of those games if he had the approved score handicap appropriate for the difference between their ranks.
      Shout also spars with Chance, although they’re more of teaching games. By intention, they always lead him to a new discovery about his form, IMAGE abilities, or planning to play around opponent’s IMAGEs. Shout’s IMAGE is very versatile, so it was useful for this. In a lot of ways, Chance finds Shout a much more difficult opponent than Rei. It could be that Rei just doesn’t play to her nines with Chance, but neither does Shout. His teacher very purposefully holds back in her teaching games, navigating him to a win of her own design. He feels that the firm hand on his shoulder shepherding him in his training could easily snap and crunch him to dust if she so chooses.
      That’s why after their daily match, Chance asked her this, ignoring the voice in his gut that told him it was going to come off as rude:
      “How are you not a pro already?”
      “Pardon?” Shout asks in a tone that squeaks and pops like a balloon rolling over shattered glass.
      “I’m sorry, it’s just that you’re really strong,” Chance carefully chose his words, “I just don’t know if I’ll be able to make it as a pro if you haven’t.”
      “Chance, you’ll do just fine at your current pace,” Shout tuts, “You’re making good use of Leo’s slammer. It’s weight distribution is… odd to say the least, but you’ve managed to make it your own. Your skills are above standard. You’re a good learner. You’ll do. Just. Fine.”
      “Okay. I’ll do fine.”
      Chance hasn’t had any close friends other than Rei. Heart-to-hearts aren’t his wheelhouse, but he feels the need to press on. He has another friend now, one willing to spend so much time to help him. I should help her? Right?
      “Will you be fine?”
      Shout stays put where she is. She’s been packing up her bag since the conversation began. A few long moments into the pause in the conversation, she starts running the edge of slammer along the floor tracing the grooves of its woven texture, sometimes plucking perpendicular to it to end a stroke.
      “Shout, you don’t have to answer. It was a rude question.”
      “No, it wasn’t,” she exhales, “You’re in your right as a student to ask that about their teacher. You have to have faith that I can instruct you properly. I have to be transparent.”
      “I’m asking this as a friend, actually,” Chance murmurs.
      Shout blinks.
      “Oh. Well then.”
      She stands up.
      “It’s more important now that I answer your question,” she smiles, “I just get nervous sometimes. I’ll be fine this go around. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
      “Good! We’ll be pros together.” Chance flashes a thumbs up.
      They both sit down together as Chance packs his pogs and slammer into his school bag. They make idle chit-chat. Then Shout pokes him on his shoulder.
      “Hey Chance, can I ask you a question?”
      “You already have,” he says.
      “Oh?”
      “Sorry, that was a joke,” Chance apologizes, “Ask away.”
      “Do you have a lot of friends? I don’t mean this to be mean,” Shout explains, very embarrassed.
      “It’s okay! Um… hmm.” Chance thinks to himself. Since it’s Shout, he knows there’s no ill intent to the question. “I guess not. I have Rei and a few acquaintances, but I rub a lot of people the wrong way and I have poor grades. I’m not popular. I don’t do clubs, in a traditional way at least.”
      “Oh, okay,” Shout replies. “I guess I’m the same. I don’t make conversation well.”
      “I think you make conversation just fine.”
      “Thank you. I’m not enemies with anyone though! I’m just not really close to anyone. Except for my siblings and Rei.”
      “Well, Shout, uh. Add me to the list! If you want.” Chance reassures after stumbling awkwardly through the sentence.
      “I will!”
      Shout taps the ground.
      “Can I ask you more questions, Chance?”
      “Yes.”
      “Okay!” she chirps shyly, “Why do you do the Ultimate Godhand Middle-Schooler thing? Doesn't it put a target on your back?”
      “I guess I have something to prove,” Chance states in a snappy monotone before rushing to a friendlier voice asking, “Anything else?”
      “Yes, actually. About your IMAGE. There’s something I want to find out before we begin Atmosphere development. It’s about Benkei.”
      “What about him?”
      “Well, the first time you used him, he had a sword. In every fight since, he’s had those seven different tools. It’s natural for Avatars to change over time since they’re a reflection of your winning image, but why did it change so suddenly?”
      Chance mulls it over in head. With that, he crafts a theory.
      “So Benkei collected the swords of those he defeated, yes? I guess I was doing the same. Then he lost to Yoshitsune and served him. A switch must have flipped in my head since I’m serving a single goal for the time being. Or at least that’s my theory.”
      “Works for me!” Shout grabs her bag. “I have to leave now, but I think our next lesson will be atmosphere development. Okay?”
      “Awesome! Can’t wait.”
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      Chance holds out his fist for a fist bump. Shout shakes it like a handshake. They both laugh and go their separate ways.
NEXT CHAPTER
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casspurrjoybell-17 · 9 months ago
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Hart and Hunter - Chapter 8 - Part 1
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*Warning Adult Content*
Julian Hart
Vaguely, I hear Dane and Detective Vasquez exchange greetings but most of my attention is on Detective Rian Halloran.
He's a few inches taller than me and has fashionably cut black hair and sapphire blue eyes.
His skin is smooth and lightly tanned and his face is classically handsome.
He's dressed in a black suit with a black tie and wears a red silk pocket square.
The hand he extends to grasp mine is large, strong and elegant, with clean, manicured nails.
Dane says Wolves don't always recognize other Shifters but they always recognize their own kind.
I've had very little opportunity to put it to the test but as Halloran approaches and flashes us a blindingly handsome grin, I realize that the same may be said of Fae.
Halloran extends his hand towards me and all I can do is stare.
I look at Dane, expecting to see my shock mirrored but his expression is merely one of mild confusion and concern.
"Julian? Do you two, know each other?"
Halloran's perfectly groomed brows lift a fraction and my sudden conviction departs as suddenly as it came.
"N-no," I stammer and manage a smile as I accept Halloran's handshake.
"Sorry. Julian Hart."
He flashes me a wink and my doubt returns.
I don't know what it is but there's something 'Fae' about him, for sure.
"And you must be Dane Hunter," he says, turning.
"Of whom I've heard so many splendid tales."
Dane scowls.
"Dunno what's you've heard but I guarantee most of it's not true."
Halloran glances at Vasquez and smirks.
"So, you didn't break up a bar fight and single-handedly arrest an entire gang or leap from an overpass onto a moving car to stop a chase?"
Dane rubs the back of his neck and gives Vasquez an exasperated look.
"It was half a dozen drunk, middle-aged bikers and it was a low overpass."
Again, I can't hide my surprise as I realize how little Dane has talked about his past.
I'd assumed it was something he didn't enjoy discussing and so I hadn't pressed him but now I wonder just how much I don't know about my mate.
Sensing something of my feelings through that very bond, Dane's expression shows a hint of pain and I see him resist the urge to reach for my hand.
I wish he would.
"That's not the way Monica tells it," Halloran continues.
"In fact..."
"Where are you from?" I blurt, surprising even myself with the blunt question.
I'd caught a hint of an accent as he spoke.
Halloran turns back towards me, brows lifted but still smiling.
When he speaks, his accent is much stronger than before.
"Ah, found me out already, have you? I've been trying to sound as North American as possible... makes things easier, you know but you're right. I'm from Ireland. I'm actually here as part of an exchange program. One of yours trades places with one of ours and we learn how things are done different here and there."
"What part of Ireland?"
Vasquez frowns at my borderline rudeness but Halloran seems unperturbed.
"County Kildare," he says easily.
"Have you been?"
"No, I haven't," I say, and again look at Dane with a question in my eyes.
Unfortunately, he doesn't speak 'eyeball' and only lifts a shoulder in a half shrug.
Soft music begins to play and further up the hill, a small group gathers before an urn on a pedestal surrounded by wreaths and garlands of white flowers.
"Ah, well, we'd best join the proceedings," Halloran says and nods towards the little crowd.
He and Vasquez set off up the hill, while Dane and I trail behind.
"What was that about?" Dane asks under his breath.
"You know that guy?" I lift my brows at him.
"You don't see a... resemblance?"
"Resemblance to what?"
I gesture frantically between Halloran and myself.
Dane shakes his head.
"Should I?"
Ahead, Halloran glances back at us over his shoulder.
"I'll tell you later," I whisper.
We join the mourners gathered around the urn.
The burial plot is open, ready to receive its ashy tenant, and a non-denominational 'priest' recites a long prayer.
The crowd is small, made up of Lagrange's widow, Vicky and his two adult stepdaughters from Vicky's previous marriage.
The handful of others are the rest of the shop-owners from the same burglar-prone block... Stephanie Wong, dressed all in white, as well as Danni Spelling, Daniel and Liza Price and Marta and Sergio Ortiz.
Danni was the first to reach out and ask to hire us, they run a tiny shop across from Lagrange's bike-rental place, selling handmade soaps, essential oils, herbs, teas, incense and witchcraft supplies.
Marta and Sergio own a hardware store and sell everything from garden tools to candles and jewelry, while Daniel and Liza own Danny's, a bakery and café featuring the world's slowest espresso machine.
We ourselves make up the remainder and the sparse attendance tracks with what we'd learned of Lagrange so far.
The four of us hang back a little, not wanting to impose but when the priest concludes his prayers, we move forward to offer condolences and to observe more closely.
At least, that's the plan, Dane and Vasquez stick to it well enough but I keep my eyes on Halloran.
He moves through the crowd with ease, talking with everyone and none seems immune to his charms.
'Fae charms' possibly, though my confidence comes and goes like a tide.
One minute, I'm certain... the next, I'm equally certain I've imagined it.
A flash of his sapphire eyes swings the pendulum back towards 'Fae' again.
Dane notes my distraction and nudges me with raised brows, inviting me to clue him in but I shake my head.
Now's not the time to discuss who might not be human in this crowd.
With the service concluded, the mourners move forward to make their offerings and say their own prayers, each taking a white flower from a vase and tossing it into the grave.
With this ritual concluded, they move away down the long sloping lawn to a small picnic area, where a temporary pavilion and table laden with refreshments awaits. Dane and Detective Vasquez make their perfunctory offerings and follow the others down the hill.
I hang back with Halloran as he selects a white rose from the vase and twirls it between his fingers, gazing down at the pile already lying in the grave.
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ailtrahq · 1 year ago
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Renowned author Robert Kiyosaki, best known for his personal finance book ‘Rich Dad, Poor Dad,’ has once again underlined his conviction that traditional fiat currencies are on the path to obsolescence, while cryptocurrencies are poised to become the future of money.  Kiyosaki’s outspoken endorsement of cryptocurrencies has been a recurring theme in his public statements, and his recent comments on social media have reignited the debate on the future of money. Robert Kiyosaki took to the social media platform X to share his thoughts while he was coincidentally in Singapore during the TOKEN2049 conference, one of the largest annual gatherings for crypto enthusiasts and experts.  In Singapore at same time massive crypto conference is on. Very exciting. Crypto is the future. Fiat…a.k.a. FAKE money is toast. — Robert Kiyosaki (@theRealKiyosaki) September 17, 2023 Robert Kiyosaki: Unwavering Support For Crypto In his post, he declared, “Crypto is the future,” and went on to characterize fiat currency as “FAKE money” and referred to it as “toast.” This strong language underscores his belief in the impending shift towards cryptocurrencies as the primary medium of exchange. Notably, Kiyosaki has openly admitted to owning Bitcoin (BTC) and views cryptocurrencies as a crucial hedge against the devaluation of traditional currencies due to factors such as inflation and government monetary policies. He points to Bitcoin’s resilience, its ability to bounce back after market downturns, as a testament to its enduring presence in the financial landscape. Total crypto market cap at $1.04 trillion today: TradingView.com State Of The Crypto Market While Kiyosaki’s proclamations on cryptocurrencies may resonate with many, the crypto market is currently facing its own set of challenges. Notably, the market is experiencing pressure stemming from the liquidation of FTX, a major cryptocurrency exchange, which has announced its plans to divest its crypto assets totaling a staggering $3.4 billion by the end of 2023. FTX’s crypto holdings primarily consist of Solana, Bitcoin, and Ether, among others. To mitigate potential negative impacts on crypto prices, FTX has imposed a weekly cap of $100 million on its asset sales. However, the exchange has left the door open for this limit to increase to $200 million, pending approval from two committees representing FTX customers. This development in the crypto market underscores the inherent volatility and uncertainties associated with cryptocurrencies. While enthusiasts like Robert Kiyosaki see them as the future of money, the market’s evolution remains a subject of ongoing debate, shaped by various factors including regulatory changes, market sentiment, and technological advancements. Kiyosaki’s unwavering support for cryptocurrencies as the future of money continues to make waves in the financial world. However, the crypto market’s current challenges highlight the need for a cautious and balanced approach to navigating this rapidly evolving landscape.  Source
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onecopyoneyearinadvance · 2 months ago
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Part 2
Every day since the search began has so ''dripped in ambient rumor'' that the country side has been in a wild fever for fresher and more startling facts, and every imaginable distortion seems to have been indulged to keep it up Drinking in from day to day, the current rumor, prompted us to accept an invitation from John S. Doug, and Sam. Thompson to visit the farm and delve for ourselves into the mysterious suspicions and marvelous features of this red hot sensation. We went on Tuesday, and not less than a dozen respectable gentlemen were on the ground at the time, impelled by the same motive which prompted us. We found that a grave-shaped hole had been opened and that its sides seemed to be perfectly and solidly natural, and that the bottom had the appearance of having been much disturbed. The sides were nearly square cut for the first three feet, but after that they were very irregular. The dirt which had been thrown out contained no marked strata, but was evidently a good deal mixed. Pieces of molten glass short pieces of pine board, some charred wood, part of a broken pickle jar, some little pieces of candle, a small piece of tobacco, some pieces of broken crockery and other constituents of surface waste were shown us, which were said to have been dug from a depth of from six to seven and a half feet below the level of the cellar floor Some bones were also found-but in the adjoining cellar-which, in our best judgment, were never part of human anatomy. Such were the facts gained by us, and the reader may attach such weight to them as he or she may see fit. The almost universal sentiment of the neighborhood is that this hole was once a grave, and that there are nine-nine chances in one hundred that the mortal remains of Washington Orr festered and rotted there. The theory of the most earnest of the believers in this state of facts is: That Orr did go home when seen near there on the night of his disappearance. That he got into an altercation with his wife's father, who, by accident or design, in the heat of passion killed him. That his wife must have witnessed the deed. and, to save her father, helped him to secrete the body and shroud in further mystery his remarkable disappearance That when the house was burned, this indention in the cellar bottom which marked like "the sprig of Accusia ' the place of his interment, was known to his widow, and that that was the reason that she preferred to clean out that portion of the cellar herself That after suspicion had been directed to the spot by her peculiar actions, the remains were exhumed and otherwise disposed of, and that the dirt with which the hole was filled embraced much of the debris of the fire So strong is this conviction with Mr. Hunt and many of his neighbors that they will never believe otherwise unless Wash. Orr in his own living person appears to contradict their conclusions. Nine out of every ten who visit the spot adopt the same theory, supported as it is by many rumors bearing upon the circumstances of Orr's disappearance, so that it is no wonder that the excitement increases every day's discussion. Assuming that all that is claimed with regard to the digging is true, it is in order for somebody to rise and explain why it was originally dug. If made after the fire, Mrs. Orr and Mr McWilliams can tell just why. and if they fail to satisfy community in some reasonable way, suspicion is liable to follow them, even if the law does not reach them. The farm was sold in the interest of the children less than a year ago, and they and their mother are out west. as is also Mr. McWilliams, Mrs. Orr's father. Hence it may be some time before the suspicions of community are quieted. Until then Mr. Hunt is only too willing to enlighten those who visit to the place, and give them the benefit of his theory of the mystery on which to form their own conclusions as to the enormity of this "Local Horror."
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More on the story of Washington Orr. The full screenshot was unwieldy, but here is the text
A LOCAL HORROR?
Fourteen years ago one Washington Orr owned and occupied a well located farm in Steuben township, this county about one mile south-east of the poor farm. He had a wife and three daughters, and was comfortably fixed on land which brought a fair return for the labor expended Some time in the latter part of the winter of 1867-68 he came over to this city on business --to collect money; it was thought. Three days afterwards he was reported missing. and the woods were searched and the streams dragged in the hope of finding his body. He was never found. Six years ago the house occupied by his widow and children was burned to the ground, and the citizens turned out and assisted the family to build a new one. After it was completed a man was hired to clean the cellar of the debris of the fire, but there was one part which he was forbidden to disturb on account of the fact, as the family said, of that part of the debris being liable to contain articles of value which had fallen through the floor at the time of the fire. With memory freshened by this frivolous embargo, the man cultivated suspicions of something wrong and told the neighbors that he believed that Wash. Orr's body was buried in the cellar of his old home. Then people -near neighbors-began to remember that Orr had last been seen near his home-that his domestic relations were not agreeable, and that his father-in-law, a Mr. McWilliams, frequently quarreled with him. and was withal a very passionate man. But nothing further came of the gossip. Mrs Orr and her family had deported them selves in a manner well calculated to disarm suspicion, and had earned the respect and confidence of the neighborhood. Two weeks ago a piece of sunken ground in the woods gave rise to the supposition that an interment of some kind had once been made there. But only the rotted remains of some animal were unearthed. It was this however, that started anew the old gossip,--the old suspicions, and led the man who had cleaned out the cellar six years ago to request of the present proprietor of the farm the privilege of digging, to verify his convictions or gratify his curiosity. It so happened that at that point in the cellar which he had been forbidden to clean up, there was an indentation of a few inches deep, describing a length of a trifle over six feet and a width of perhaps two feet. Suspicion now took such tangible form that Mr Hunt, the owner of the place, was fairly consumed with it, and himself superintended the investigation. The spot indented in such suggestive shape, was covered with cement from one to two inches thick, and the diggers say lacked from three to four inches at the edge of the indentation of touching the earth below. They dug down, as they say, in soil which was quite loose and which readily separated from sides and ends cut pretty straight, in the solid earth. Every spade full of earth thrown up as the sides cleared themselves so freshened the convictions of the family that the entire neighborhood took on the spirit of investigation.and a number of them volunteered or were impressed into digging out the mystery surrounding the death of Wash Orr.
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ms-taurusvenus · 2 years ago
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What Mason is Like IRL/Behind the Camera's
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He exudes such confidence that it occasionally borders on arrogance/cockiness. He is bold and open to experimenting. fights for what he stands up for when his convictions are questioned. He is prepared to do whatever it takes to achieve his objectives, desires, and success. He needs to be careful when doing this or else he'll get caught due to him at times being sneaky, strategic, and cunning in terms of his career. However, he could also be slothful. He is finished once a cycle and an endeavour have been completed. With his loved ones, especially his family, he is fiercely devoted to and protective of them. He also nurtures and cares for them as well and wants to be able to take care of them.
Not always the best at taking criticism for things he's arrogant or self-assured about, which prevents him from getting him to his his fullest potential and constantly. This could explain why he performs well in some games but poorly in others, etc. (Or it could just be Potter being kinda shit IIBH). He might not be excellent at taking criticism, but it doesn't mean he won't try to improve. Good luck with that unless it's about something he's arrogant and confident about.  In general, quite open-minded. He is open to learning and improving himself. In general, fairly open-minded. He is open to learning and improving himself. He is conscious of his own errors and is prepared to correct them if he believes and realizes that they were made. He appreciates his own sense of independence as well as being busy and having things to do. He might also be very energetic, which would enable him to do his tasks more quickly. He like having a list of things to do but is also a free spirit who doesn't mind if they don't go as planned. Although, this could be due to him being indecisive. He is highly devout and upholds fairly traditional beliefs for his future family. Maybe he has a little spiritual?  Even though/if he doesn't put it into practise, he firmly believes in it. Has a very good intuition and believes in it. He is also fairly intelligent and frequently utilizes his intuition. Quite adept at concealing information (keeping secrets). He is very devoted to the causes he supports, loves, and believes in. Which makes sense considering how passionate he has always been to Chelsea.
He has the ability to get away with things and is quite cunning and clever. He may sometimes sneak up on individuals to acquire what he wants if necessary and get away with it because of his strong desires. If he is discovered, he can claim a justification to escape punishment. He might benefit from his insight in this. This relates to what I said previously about him doing whatever he needs to if the time comes sooner. In essence, he tends to seize opportunities and is kinda a opportunist. He might also be a competent liar. However, he won't harm or practice the behaviours mentioned to individuals he cares about, and he would only act in such a way if absolutely necessary. He maintains close bonds with the women in his life and  is connected to his feminine energy and doesn't hold a lot of toxic masculinity. He's a double Libra, so it's not surprising that he has some sense of fashion and beauty of his own. also appreciates finer things in life, such as high-end items and luxury goods. He loves a comfortable lifestyle and hopes to be able to preserve it for himself, his family, and his future family he may have. 
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impalementation · 3 years ago
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I find it fascinating that Xander, Buffy's metaphorical heart hates both Angel and Spike, the two love interests Buffy has a deeper connection with, while he seems found of Riley, the love interest Buffy has a more superficial shallow relationship with
Yeah it's quite interesting. Though I think the specifics of what Xander's feelings about Angel, Spike and Riley means depends on context.
In the case of Riley, I'd argue that Buffy does actually think she has a deep relationship with him. As she tells him in "Out of My Mind": “Nobody has ever known me the way you do. Nobody. I've opened up to you in ways that I've never opened up to...” Certainly she's had more opportunity for emotional and physical intimacy with him than she did with Angel. Yet her conviction that they have a deep understanding is at odds with their mutual blindness to each other. Both of them are too overwhelmed by their personal crises to recognize or appreciate the other person’s wants and needs. (Buffy’s crisis may be more sympathetic than Riley’s, given the way he goes about it, but his behavior and perception of her does nonetheless take her completely by surprise.). 
With this in mind, it fits that Xander is so enthusiastic about Riley, because Buffy herself is. Yet the things Xander likes about him tend to be the superficial, normatively masculine things. When Xander sees how big the Initiative is, in all its militaristic, institutional glory, that’s when he says: “Can I have sex with Riley too?” Or the way Xander calls Riley “a big jungle cat” as he does his silly military maneuvers in “Fool for Love”--and then asks "How come I’m not like that?” Or in “The Replacement” he tries to mimic Riley’s good-boyfriend behavior with Buffy, by massaging Anya--but Anya yelps with pain. Multiple times in season five, we see that Xander idolizes Riley and his relationship with Buffy, and then has that idolization disappointed. Say, Xander saying he envies Riley and Buffy’s relationship at the end of “The Replacement”, just before Riley tells him that Buffy doesn’t actually love him. Or Xander’s much-maligned speech to Buffy in “Into the Woods” that crucially leads to Buffy not catching Riley. Riley finishes the episode as blind and deaf to Buffy as ever. Xander has a romantic view of Riley, a view that Riley is who Buffy should want, which arguably matches Buffy’s own perspective. But it’s a view that ultimately leads nowhere real.
In other words, I’d say that Xander’s positivity towards Riley reflects what Buffy thinks she should want. And by contrast, I think Xander's antipathy towards Angel and Spike has to do with Buffy's fear and self-hatred towards her own emotions. (Though notably, Xander does call both Angel and Spike attractive, too. In “Teacher’s Pet” Xander says of Angel: “He’s a very attractive man, how come that never came up?” And in “Intervention” he describes Spike as “strong and mysterious and sort of compact, but well-muscled.” And “Teacher’s Pet” and “Intervention” are both early turning points in Buffy’s relationships with Angel and Spike. “Intervention” is obviously the first episode in which Buffy is shown to be capable of reciprocating Spike’s romantic interest. It might sound weird to call “Teacher’s Pet” a turning point, but similarly it is the first episode in which Angel is explicitly treated as a romantic interest and in which Buffy is clearly shown to be attracted to him, not just irritated by him. "Teacher’s Pet” is also thematically important with regards to Buffy/Angel because makes a very obvious parallel between an older teacher being interested in Xander, and Buffy being interested in an older guy. The show will even return to this female teacher/younger boy parallel with Buffy/Angel again in “I Only Have Eyes For You,” albeit with a different thematic bent.).
In season one, I’d argue that Xander is broadly treated as Buffy’s courage, and Angel is treated as her cowardice. Xander dives into helping Buffy, he “has heart”, whereas Angel keeps himself aloof. And so their antipathy is explained by Buffy’s bravery and engagement being at odds with her fear and detachment. When Xander forces Angel to help Buffy in “Prophecy Girl” you could see it as one of many symbols in the episode of Buffy conquering her fears. In seasons two and three however, Xander’s dislike of Angel seems more related to Buffy’s belief that her emotions are dangerous and destructive. Even before Angel loses his soul, there’s an ominous air surrounding the Buffy and Angel relationship, an association with death and horrible hidden faces. And afterwards this association becomes even more pronounced. Buffy spends the remainder of season two and much of season three, feeling tremendously guilty over the death and destruction that her love for Angel (seemingly) caused--including the death of Angel himself. So when Xander says things like “you wanna forget all about Ms. Calendar's murder so you can get your boyfriend back” I think he’s really the voice of Buffy’s own fears about herself. She’s afraid that to love means to romanticize, and to romanticize means to be selfish and naive. (To be like Spike, you might say).
In addition, I think the show’s ambivalent relationship to the romantic means that Xander’s negative feelings towards Angel have both a positive and a negative aspect. The positive aspect of Xander disliking Angel is the fact that some part of Buffy’s heart does see through romantic illusions. It’s annoyed and resentful of them. The negative aspect is the resulting shame that Buffy often feels about herself. Which blinds and inhibits her in a different way. But overall, I think the fact that Xander never really expresses a positive attitude towards Angel indicates the show’s overall position that while the romantic ideal that Angel represents is understandably compelling, it is still something that Buffy needs to ultimately let go.
Spike is a weirder case than both Angel and Riley though, because while Xander does express a lot of hatred towards Spike, and in specific cases with more vitriol than he ever does towards Angel, he also doesn’t just express hate. If anything, he can be downright tolerant of Spike, much like Buffy herself. While Xander and Spike regularly bicker, Spike nonetheless lives with Xander on two separate occasions (You might even make a connection between Spike living with Xander in season seven and Buffy telling Angel that Spike “is in [her] heart.”). They hang out in “Triangle.” In “Intervention” Xander expresses sympathy for how "thrashed” Spike looks. Just before Buffy kisses him. In “Him” Xander and Spike save the day together. (And there’s some symbolism for you--Buffy’s heart and her shadow teaming up to undo a spell that makes people see things in an immaturely romantic way).
It’s notable that the season in which Xander hates Spike the most is season six. Which is the season in which Buffy herself repeatedly, and violently, pushes Spike away. It is the season in which Buffy calls Spike dead, and a thing, in a mirror image of her own feelings about herself. Buffy spends the season hating herself and thinking she can’t feel, and thus it makes sense that she would be more alienated from her heart. In contrast to Xander representing bravery in season one, Xander in season six is defined by his cowardice--he is antsy about getting married, and his fears ultimately get the best of him. It is only after Buffy and Xander reconcile towards the end of season six, that Xander is able to return to his role of the heart and save the world by bravely expressing love towards towards the self-hating, shadow-consumed part of Buffy in the form of Willow. (And in parallel, Spike gets his soul and thus begins the process of becoming someone that Buffy doesn’t have to hate).
Then throughout season seven, Xander really doesn’t express much hate towards Spike. He’s very wary of him for a while, much like Buffy herself. But also lets Spike live with him, again like Buffy herself. The part of Buffy that expresses the most hostility towards Spike in season seven is Giles. Which suggests that it’s now Buffy’s reason and sense of tradition that stands in the way of her trusting herself and her emotions, rather than her heart. If anything, Xander and Anya resuming their relationship could be seen as a parallel to the developing romance between Spike and Buffy, given that Anya is also a reformed demon. (Regardless of one’s personal feelings about Spike/Buffy, they were undeniably written as a romantic pairing in season seven, and thus it makes sense to see symbolism echoing their relationship).
So in total, I think the idea is something like: Xander doesn’t like Angel because loving Angel is dangerous to Buffy. And loving Angel is dangerous because Angel is the romantic, and the romantic is something that in the early seasons, Buffy hasn’t yet developed a mature relationship to. Then Xander loves Riley because loving Riley is safe. But as it turns out, viewing someone as the safe option is its own form of romanticization and thus Riley also needs to go. Then Xander has a mixed relationship with Spike, because Buffy has an ongoing ambivalence towards herself, her emotions, and her romantic instincts.
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bthump · 2 years ago
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If you were in charge of an adaption of the Black Swordsman, Conviction, and so on arcs and you could make whatever additions or cuts you wanted, what stuff would be added or cut?
Thanks for the ask!
Immediate thought: Cut Moonbaby. Change the fetus into some kind of fucked up puppy looking thing which just exists to symbolize Guts' own pathetic inner darkness as a more objective counterpoint to the Beast of Darkness (which is what I think the fetus' original role was before Miura went ham with the baby shit). During the Conviction arc it doesn't save Casca a bunch of times, rather Casca is endangered less often and escapes from the occasional danger in ways that don't require magic.
No werebaby plot, if the Casca kidnapping turns out to be vital in some way and not something easily changeable into something else then Griffith shows up to kidnap her for other made up reasons, like, say, he needs someone with the brand of sacrifice to do some kind of magic thing, or something. If the Casca kidnapping plot turns out to be little more than an excuse to get Guts to Falconia then Guts just goes to Falconia to try to fight Griffith once Casca turns out to not be a good distraction.
Oh and of course there's no ambiguity wrt Griffith's feelings - we see inside his head at the Hill of Swords, he's going 'oh shit my heart's fluttering again,' and that's the last we get of NGriff's point of view. I feel like that would make his subsequent placidity with occasional hints of emotion even more fun.
I'd adapt the Black Swordsman arc very faithfully otherwise, including opening with the demon sex scene because I don't care, I think it's a fantastic opener, it would set that Verhoeven-esque tone I love perfectly. Guts blows her head off with a quip, cut to credits, cut back to Guts' more somber and haunted glance back at the corpse as he walks away, boom, perfect Berserk opening.
Also with the start of the Millenium Falcon arc I'd reframe Farnese as the point of view character and put Guts at a bit more of a mysterious distance, to mimic how his followers see him, and also to kind of underline his emotional ambiguity. I think canonically he's repressing his complicated feelings, and I think making his feelings kind of unknown but hinting that he's not taking Casca to Elfhelm solely for love would convey that complicated feelings vibe more overtly. Plus Griffith parallels. Make the last time we're in Guts' head for a whole arc like, the scene where he assaults Casca (which I would keep, if we're keeping the Eclipse rape) and we'd leave him on a very dark note and also suggest that he may have a strong emotional reaction to his own actions there, without showing exactly what that reaction is beyond hiring a babysitter lol. It would help fix the impression in canon that Guts just doesn't even have much of a reaction to it.
Oh and if we're centering Farnese more then I think she should have a longer arc of reconciling her religious black and white thinking with her new perspective, rather than a single fucking montage lol. This should be a process throughout the whole Millenium Falcon arc, so I guess I'd add some scenes where she still acts like a spoiled brat, maybe it takes her longer to treat Casca with decency and she has a revelation about protecting her that changes her attitude, still treating Serpico like a servant in an obnoxious way, either denying responsibility or being overly consumed by catholic-y guilt at points, etc. The whole point should be watching her slowly grow, not 180ing her personality.
Also Isidro goes home after the troll shit. Old Village Dude shows him the error of his ways. And consequently Puck is fun again.
Anyway yeah I think that's it. This was fun, ty!
If you're interested I've written a long answer to a similar question that includes the Golden Age here.
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moxfirefly · 4 years ago
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Heyo! I hope you're doing well! For the new NSFW asks, how about 39: "do you have a mommy kink", "no", "do you want one?" with leonardo, I've been waiting for a mommy kink with leonardo so I figured now would be a good time to ask lol 😂
Y’all heathens have to reignite my “Leo Has A Mommy Kink” debate.
So yes of course I can.
Rated Explicit (18+ only)
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There are several aspects about Leo’s life that he quite enjoys keeping private.
You don’t earn the nickname Honor Boy without exactly living up to it. So naturally he doesn’t go about voicing things that needn’t concern his chatty brothers and their abilities for dumb nicknames.
It just doesn’t concern them that he’s, well he’s not the purest of the bunch. So what he likes to blow off steam and said steam requires particular things for it to be blown off. Nobody needs to know how much he’s read up on rope play and shibari (it’s artistic he swears) and nobody needs to know that his own internet history searches could rival that of Donnie.
And nobody needs to know that he may have a slight, tiny, minuscule, itty bitty mommy kink.
He feels his neck already all hot and sweaty when it comes to you, so it was quite uncalled for (in his mind) for you to talk kinks with him one late night in his room. Because contrary to Donnie who isn’t ashamed of his likes, Leo is still working through that. He doesn’t know how exactly to voice it, he isn’t stoked about sitting down with Donnie (who would be the most understanding) because he’s a little repressed to this day.
But you’re much more open, shameless and so nonchalant about it. He quite envies it to be honest, how you can laugh and giggle your way through a list you found online and have been reading to him about kinks.
And yes Leo’s laughed too, some of them sound so bizarre and not in the least bit appealing.
And yes he’s tried not to look too shameful about knowing some that you’ve never heard of.
“People really make a kink for anything, I bet there’s somebody right now inventing a new one” You scrolled on your phone, grinning when you landed on one in particular you knew all too well. You sat up a little straighter on Leo’s bed and cleared your throat.
“Daddy kink? Does is spark joy or not?” You gave your best game show voice and Leo shook his head with a chuckle. “I dunno, not really, there’s better authoritative names” He clears his throat, trying not to allude too much to what would end him if a girl ever said it to him.
“I suppose you’re on to something there, I’m either or, maybe in the heat of the moment who knows” You do notice that some of these have probably hit home for him, he had been a little more talkative before but as the list progressed, the more shy he got.
Something about that makes you so astonishingly delighted.
“Once a guy called me Mommy and I have to say, awakened something in me” You studied his reaction, Leo swallowed and did not in anyways let his eye stray towards you.
Oh boy.
“Do you have a mommy kink?” You flat out asked him, grinning. Leo kept his eyes anywhere but on you.
“No” With just a little more conviction he could’ve made it believable the poor soul.
“Do you want one?” You ask him with every seductive incentive that only serves for Leo to swallow.
You sit up on your knees and rest your hands on his shoulders, Leo can’t really stay with his eyes glued to one of his bonsais forever, so he caves.
Oh god does he cave.
“What’s wrong sweet boy?” You coo at him, hands running up his hot neck and resting on his cheeks. “Is my precious little boy embarrassed?” You caress his cheek, even going so far as to adjust his mask and Leo feels like he’s going to scream because blood rushing to places it shouldn’t right now.
“It’s ok, mommy’s goodest boy doesn’t have to be embarrassed about anything, yeah?” And you have to bite your lip from smiling so much when Leo honest to god shakes his head at your inquiry. You thumb his bottom lip and lean in close enough to feel his warm breath. “Have you been good? Have you been the most good boy for me?” You watch his tongue dart out to lick his dry lips as he nods.
The surge of power that shoots through your veins, it was definitely something you us become a fan of. But Leo’s reaction had been way more entertaining than that of your old flame. Your eyes landed on his lap, clearly this had pulled a very interesting reaction out of him. “Tsk tsk, did I say you could get excited?” You chastised him, tapping his lips with your finger.
How the night shifted to this was beyond Leo, he was lost in the mood, in the heat behind your words and there was no way he could stop his cock from filling up due to it. A part of him wanted to be embarrassed, he considers himself such a strong willed person, not easily cracked but yet here you were making putty out of him with such sweet words. You leaned in, voice a whisper. “Are you okay with this? Want me to stop?” You wanted to check in after all, but you would not continue if this was overstepping any boundaries with him.
Leo took a shuddering breath.
“No...mommy”
You bit the inside of your cheek, that shouldn’t have made you so hot. With a soft fingertip to the middle of his plastron, you followed a path downwards toward his already tenting shorts. You heard him gulp and once your hand was inside you gripped him with every intention of making squirm.
And messy.
Because Leo has to appreciate some messes.
“You’re such a good boy, my good blue boy” You jerked his cock slowly, each pump deliberate with the goal of hearing him struggle to autores a noise. A strong hand found your thigh and gripped it, several choked moans and whines escaping him. Pressing your lips to his cheek you hushed him, you kissed the spot just as you began to speed up your movements. Leo’s hips wanted to buck up into your tight grip, he felt your lips travel towards his ear and a smug tone that only served to make his cock leak. “Who has a mommy kink after all?” Oh he would’ve crawled into a hole and the way you giggled only made the situation worse.
He felt himself cum without warning, which only made the situation even more amusing for you, some of it shot up towards your shirt as you kept pumping. Leo didn’t even know if he could muffle his sounds more by. “Messy messy, you ruined mommy’s shirt” You grinned, still lazily stroking him as he slumped back against the pillows. His soft blue eyes found yours, if he could turn red he would’ve been by, you leaned down and kissed him.
As you pulled away, Leo gently reached for your stained hand and brought it towards his lips.
“May I clean my mess up...mommy?”
You bit down on your bottom lip and nodded.
Oh this would be such a fun new thing for the two of you and even as Leo (embarrassed to high end but still greatly enjoying himself) licked your fingers and palm of his own cum, he knew as well that maybe sharing his likes wouldn’t be so bad after all.
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softyoongiionly · 4 years ago
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Portraits of a Tiger - The Finale
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Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.
And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.
Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi
Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst, not intended to be a historical au. 
Word Count: 28k
Warnings: depictions of violence, death, blood, choking, mentions of battle, heavy angst (happy endings only), LONGING, explicit language, mentions of grief, mentions of loss, mentions of insecurity, explicit smut: scratching, biting, lovebites, unprotected sex. 
A/N: welp :( This is the end for now folks. I can’t believe I finally finished a series on this freakin’ blog lol. I am so incredibly grateful for your patience. I truly hope you enjoy it and if you do, I would love to hear from you. Whilst this is the end of the series, I wouldn’t be surprised if I wrote drabbles for it in the future so, if there is anything you’d like to see more of, please let me know :D
A few thank you notes to my sisters from across the globe @yoonia​ and @randombtsprincessa​, the two of you are so important to me and, I am forever grateful for your friendship. I love you lots. 
To @kithtaehyung @missgeniality​ @noelleydances​ thank you for always hyping me up and, being willing to chat with silly ol me. You’re all amazing and I LOVE YOU ALOT.
To @gldnrecs LISTEN IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW, LAY. I am so thankful you and, your willingness to scream with me in my dms. I’m so honored to know you and, I hope you know that I am always here if you need anything. ALSO HAPPY COLLEGE GRADUATION YOU FREAKING GENIUS. Please consider this (and Hobi’s conclusion specifically) my graduation present. Love you. 
Love letter to Rachel: It’s very important for anyone who comes across this story to know that I would have NEVER EVER EVER be able to conjure up this universe without the help of my bestie @bulletproofbirdy​. My friend, you are a genius and, it has truly been such an honor designing this world with you. I am so grateful that I’ve been able to create something with someone as amazing as you but, ON TOP OF IT??? We became so close that we literally talk every single day. I don’t know what to say without being the mushiest person ever but, I just want to thank you for being you. Without your love, your support and your BIG BRAIN, I would have never finished this series. I hope it lives up to all of your expectations. I love you. 
The clouds hung in the air with a heaviness that was almost palpable. Storm season was looming over the horizon and, although you’re aware that the rain is more than overdue, you still feel a sense of doom clinging to your subconscious. This time of year, arrives like clockwork and your village is well-equipped to deal with all the rainfall, the thunder, the lightening...
But there was always a chance that the river would flood and thus there was always a chance for tragedy to strike; a chance for everything you’ve ever known to be swallowed whole. You know you can’t stop a flood. The water operates on its own axis, untethered by human convenience. It terrifies you yes but, you’re fascinated none the less.
With a deep sigh, you step away from the edge of the river. The soft bubbling of the water is intriguing you, eliciting a yearning within you to step inside just one last time. However, you know the bite of the water would be too much to handle on your bare feet and you really don’t want to catch a cold before the winter season has even started.
Turning around, the breath you are preparing to take gets lodged deep in the center of your throat. It’s Yoongi and he’s reaching out for you but the look of pain on his face alerts you that something is horribly wrong.
“Y/n...” He croaks, his eyes wide with fear as he reaches out to you and it’s then that you see the blood dripping from his fingers. Your eyes frantically travel down his figure before realizing the source of the blood.
A wound similar to that of a sword brandishes his lower stomach, staining his tunic and causing the bile in your stomach to swirl uncomfortably.
He’s hurt.
He’s hurt badly.
“Yoongi!” You cry to him, your heartbeat rising to a level that feels painful.
As you try to run to him however, he falls to his knees, the life sparking in his eyes one last time before he collapses.
The scream coming from your lips is unrecognizable but, thankfully it draws you upright in your bed, informing you that horrible scene you just witnessed, was only a dream.
You clutch your hand to your chest, breathing heavily, your eyes stinging as they well up with tears. Without thinking, you sob into the clasped hand over your lips, trying your best to calm down but the morbid images continue to assault your mind over and over.
The light streaming in through your window, informs you that the sun has risen. At least your nightmare had allowed you to sleep a full night before rudely interrupting. You swallow back another sob, forcing a deep breath through your nose while you remind yourself that Yoongi is ok.
But you can’t know that for sure, can you?
The small break in your logic is enough to make you rush out of bed and into your coat, not bothering to fix your appearance as you shove your feet into your shoes. Thankfully, your parents are still sleeping soundly in their beds when you bustle through the main room and towards the door.
You have to see for yourself; even a glimpse of him could loosen the grip that fear currently has on your mind. You take the back way to avoid the marketplace which already shows signs of coming to life. You would need to make it quick to avoid missing the morning crowd: that’s usually where most of your sale’s come from.
With everything in you, you hope that he’s already awake because if he isn’t, you’d just have to move on without the reassurance, which is what you should do anyway, but you can’t bring yourself to let it go.
Thankfully, Yoongi is awake and by the looks of it, he’s out with the new recruits, running drills in the grass right in front of their camp. You see Jungkook out there as well, assisting one of the men with his form as he brandishes a sword.
The sight floods your mind with images of your dream once again, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut.
He’s ok though, so regardless of the images, you feel content seeing him in good health. Logically, you know you need to go about your day and allow him to go about his but, as you move to turn back towards the village- he notices you.
At first, a smile passes over his lips almost involuntarily but, his keen observation skills notice something is array. You see him gesture to his men to continue before he starts making his way in your direction.
Embarrassment washes over you without any warning and you try and wave him off, reassuring him that everything is ok, but he ignores it and jogs over anyway.
“Good morning-” He murmurs, his hands reaching out for yours. As he laces his fingers between your own, he tilts his head, “Are you ok?”
Instinctively, you nod but when you open your mouth to say something, nothing comes out.
Glancing up towards his face, your eyes pass over the area your mind brandished with blood and, without thinking, you throw your arms around him.
Yoongi is a little taken aback but he reciprocates nonetheless, his arms encircling you and pressing you against his chest. You feel a sigh of relief leave your lips as you cling to his robe, breathing in the subtle scent of him.
“I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”
The whisper of your voice sends an aching into his chest and although you don’t disclose exactly what happened, Yoongi trusts that you had a valid reason for checking on his well-being.
With a soft smile, he presses a kiss to your temple, “I feel a little more than ok now...” He confirms before pulling back to look into your eyes, “May I do my own wellness check?”
There is a playfulness to his tone that softens the hard exterior of your residual panic and you bite your bottom lip when you nod.
His expression grows pensive as he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts your face from left to right, his own head following the motions whilst he narrows his eyes,
“Hm, nothing out of the ordinary here...” He grins, his blonde hair rustling slightly with the pace of the wind, eyes alight with fondness, “Still beautiful- still curious, still driving me insane because, I don’t know what’s going through her head...”
A small bit of laughter leaves your lips as you slide your hand up his forearm before settling gently on his wrist. With your fingertips, you press lightly against the bone beneath his skin, relishing in any tangible part of him you can touch, “I had a nightmare about you.”
He purses his lips together, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, “Did I turn into a tiger and try to eat you? My men have told me they had this dream quite a lot during training...”
Yoongi attempts to keep his tone playful but he looks slightly deflated now as he waits for your response.
With a small smile, you shake your head tightly. You take his hand away from your chin, lacing your fingers together, ensuring that the grip you have on him is tight.
“No. You were-”A sigh leaves your lips whilst you shake your head, “You were hurt.” You spare him the details, “I woke up and just started running over here to make sure you were ok...it’s a bit silly now that I’m thinking of it.”
Yoongi can’t help but smile at you, his heart flourishing with the promise new romance often makes. He is saddened that you were worried on his account but, he would be lying if he said that this wasn’t endearing.
Ok- so perhaps it was extremely endearing.
“And if I wasn’t ok?” He wraps his arms around you, “Would you have come to my rescue?”
The smirk on his lips makes him all the more handsome and the feeling of his hands on the small of your back, makes your mind fuzzier than you’d care to admit.
“I would have-” Your voice grows higher with determination which causes Yoongi to chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief, “Why are you laughing???? Do you doubt my ability to hold my own on the battlefield?”
Yoongi’s laughter is choppy and warm, it soothes every sore spot of anxiety in your head in almost medicinal way.
You wish you could hear the sound more.
“Absolutely not.” He shakes his head, still chuckling a bit, “In fact, I think you’d make a fine solider, ma'am. It’s just-” He glances down at your feet, “I don’t usually recommend wearing house slippers on the battlefield.”
The rolling of your eyes, brings Yoongi’s laughter back into the conversation.
“I would have managed just fine, thank you. You underestimate how powerful house slippers can be when brandished by the right person.”
He raises his brows, “Is that right? You wouldn’t need a sword then? Just your slippers?”
“Mhm.” You grumble with certainty, your fingers finding the ends of the hair hanging down from his pony tail, “My slippers and my wit are more powerful than any weapons you have here.”
Yoongi chuckles, the sound low and slow in the base of his throat, “Now that sounds a bit more realistic- that mouth of yours would certainly be enough to guarantee your victory.”
As he’s replying, you’re gently tracing your fingertips up the length of his spine, admiring the strength clearly present in the muscles of his back.
“Hm-” You muse, stealing a look directly into his eyes, “I do hope to show you what my mouth is capable of someday-” Fluttering your lids innocently, you try to stop the smirk from taking over your mouth but, when Yoongi’s grip tightens on you, it takes over anyway.
Drawing a deep breath through his nose, you see his Adam’s apple bob in the center of his throat as his jaw fills up with tension. An audible swallow comes from him as his gaze slowly shifts from playful to perturbed.
“I find it ironic that you’ve chosen to threaten my wellbeing…whilst in the middle of a wellness check …”
You hum with a sense of false innocence, “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.”
“You’re dangerous” He murmurs, and you don’t miss the lust that coats his voice, “and unarmed...” A chuckle leaves his lips then as he presses his hands further into your skin, “and in your house slippers. I think you might be the biggest threat I’ve ever encountered.”
This makes you giggle now, dropping the salacious tone from your voice but, as you lean up to press a kiss to his lips- a voice brings your motions to a halt.
“General Tiger! Are you going to join your men for training this morning or were you planning on teaching them the art of seduction?”
It’s Jin and he’s stood outside their tent with his arms crossed. It’s then that you notice the lack of movement in his camp. Most of the recruits were sort of standing around awkwardly, many of them sneaking a glance at the two of you.
They look rather shocked at Jin’s choice of words, expecting Yoongi’s wrath but instead he merely smirks and leans in so his lips are at your ear before whispering, “We’ll talk about this later...”
His slightly menacing tone sends excitement rushing into your chest as you reluctantly pull away from him.
You salute him, “Yes sir.”
Yoongi forces a breath out of his nostrils, shaking his head at you, “You’re going to kill me one day.” He mutters to himself as he practically saunters back to his camp.
Yoongi is still smirking as he returns amidst his group of men, which Jin promptly comments on.
“Even after a decade with you, you still surprise me.” He notes, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek.
“Third line, run those last two again! I need you sharper than that!” Yoongi calls out to his men, replacing his commanding expression with one full of nonchalance, “What are you referring to?”
Jin merely nods to the place the two of you had just been canoodling in, “I wasn’t sure that I’d ever see the day you took a partner- let alone the day that you’d publicly display affection for one. I wouldn’t necessarily think to question it but-”
Yoongi smirks, his eyes on the men in front of him but his focus clearly elsewhere, “And yet here you are...”
Jin rolls his eyes, “You can’t possibly blame me. I mean, you have a reputation that spans across the entirety of this land- does it concern you that they might mark you as vulnerable? From what I’ve gathered around the plaza, many of these villagers have already began to view you more casually.”
Yoongi’s smirk never fades as he calls out another command to the recruits, “If an enemy brands me as vulnerable- that is an error on their end, not on mine. In fact, I imagine it would bode quite well for me in the end. In regard to the villagers viewing me in a certain light- I can’t say I mind. Being feared was never something I asked for- you know this well. I would hope that more of the people I’ve served find me approachable.”
Jin doesn’t look convinced, knowing Yoongi far too well to believe that this was the end of his explanation, “There is more to it than that, isn’t there?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have other motives for being so open about her.”
Yoongi tilts his head in thought, still not bothering to look at him, “I just don’t think it hurts to send a message, to anyone who might be observing us.”
Jin scoffs at his vagueness, attempting eye contact, “What message might that be?”
Finally, Yoongi turns towards him, the ghost of his previous smirk on his mouth, “That she is both protected and accounted for.”
With that, Yoongi draws his sword and heads back amongst the large crowd of men who, having finished their drills, were now eagerly awaiting his instruction.
Jin finds himself smirking as well now, undeniably intrigued by his general’s newfound attitude.
Your day in the marketplace moves slowly but, you find yourself largely unphased. With a mind full of budding romance and unresolved passion, it’s difficult to focus on the mundanity of everyday life.
“So- “ Jane begins, with a curious gaze as the two of you begin packing up your wares for the day, “I’ve seen you over at the military camp quite a lot these past few weeks...”
Unable to resist, you roll your eyes at her observation whilst lining your bags with your belongings, “I’ve been making bread for the battalion.”
You’ve learned over the years of working with Jane that keeping your responses to a minimum is a good idea, particularly when she decides to fish for information.
She has an impressive habit of picking your words apart in search of anything potentially scandalous.
“Oh? So I suppose canoodling with their leader is just a part of your services then?”
With wide eyes, your head whips in her direction, “What do you mean?”
Jane chuckles, smoothing her hands over the many fly aways atop her head, “The man clearly moves as though a burden has been lifted from him and, given the way he looks at you every time he visits our plaza- I have no choice but to assume that you were the one to do so.”
Most of the time, you’d shy away from her attempts to gossip but, you’re in a bit of a mood after your earlier encounter with Yoongi so, you decide to give her something to work with. “I am a healer Jane, if I can lift the burden of stress from my patrons- I won’t shy away from the opportunity.”
It’s her turn to widen her eyes now as she chokes back the small gasp coming from her throat, “Are you- are you saying it’s true then? You’ve laid with the Tiger?”
In an almost child-like manner, you giggle to yourself, glancing over at her briefly, “Is it still considered lying with him if I were pressed up against a tree?”
Jane’s face shines like a summer tomato, fit to burst, as she hustles closer to you, “My girl!” She whispers, “What has gotten into you?”
Brushing off leftover debris from your cart, you turn towards her, “Well according to your theory-” You wager, “I suppose it was the Tiger,” You smirk, “Wasn’t it?”
Jane smacks your arm now, causing your laughter to increase in volume, “Y/N! I am shocked by you-” She begins before her features seem to morph back into her previous curiosity, “and slightly impressed...I thought I was the only whore around here.”
“Jane!” You swat her arm now, shaking your head at her and trying your best not to laugh, “Aren’t you married?”
She shrugs, a smirk now present on her lips, “I am but-” She eyes her husband, who is obliviously untangling his fishing line across the plaza, “Morris and I are well-acquainted...” She allows the word to drop from her mouth like maple syrup, “with other members of the village.”
Did she just-
“Whatever satisfies your heart and mind, Jane. I’m glad you and Morris are active community members...” You wave her off, giggling once again and desperately hoping she won’t divulge any further details, “I’ll see you tomorrow...stay out of trouble.”
“Don’t give me advice you know I won’t take Y/N...” She chuckles loudly before calling her husband, “Oh Morris! Don’t forgot we have plans with the minister and his wife this evening!”
Morris’s eyes widen, seeming to understand the hidden implication behind her words as he puts his index finger to his lips in an effort to silence her.
With that disturbing piece of information, you rush out of the plaza before you learn anything else that has the capability of scaring you for life.
Before heading to Rachel’s with her steamed buns, you decide to stop at the library to check out the new arrivals from the Queen’s province. Every month or so, they send new copies of the latest publishing from the capital and, given how coveted they are- you always try to make it to the library on the day of delivery.
You’re able to snag a title on growing herbs in the wintertime before spotting someone you’ve been quite eager to see: Rachel.
You find her perusing the history section, completely unaware of her presence even as you slink up beside her, “Oh hi there- fancy meeting you here; how was meeting your new student?”
Jumping slightly at the unexpected interruption, she pivots towards you before her eyes narrow with accusation, “Oh NO you don’t!” She chides, though her red cheeks suggest something else, “I cannot believe you used my love of teaching to stage a romantic COUP in my own schoolroom!” She rants, eyes wild with disbelief.
Ignoring her completely, you lean against the shelf- admiring the scent of the parchment before repeating your question, “Uh huh yeah-” You dismiss, “How did it go?”
“It went...” She clears her throat, mindlessly running her fingers over the spines resting on the shelves, “very well- it went very well.”
Looking at her expectantly, you raise your brows, “Can you define ‘well’ for the courts please?”
Rachel’s eyes seem to light up all over again as they drift into her story, “I never thought a man like that could be interested in such a quiet life like mine...we hardly know each other but, there is such kindness and passion in his eyes...it feels like I’ve known him for years.”
Seeing your best friend so enamored warms your heart; if anyone deserved happiness in this world, it would be her.
She goes on to tell you everything that happened between the two of them, recounting the nervous glances, flushed cheeks and a romantic confession from Bambi with the biceps himself.
At her conclusion, you’re unable to help the excited squeal that leaves your lips as you wrap your arms around her flushed frame, “I’m so happy for you!!!” Your scream comes out as an excited whisper, not wanting to feel the wrath of the librarian before you recall her earlier comment, “I think your quiet life and impeccable charm is what drew him in, in the first place...” You nudge her playfully, “You should have seen him talking about you- even I was swooning.”
She glows brighter, her figure emanating a bright carnation as she smoothly changes the subject; Rachel will only take the spotlight for so long, “Speaking of swooning, how is that ferocious general for yours, eh?”
Suddenly, you become very interested with a book on the shelf beside you, “Hm? What general? I don’t know a general Rachel, I’m just a silly little medicine woman.”
Her eyes widen as she smacks you playfully, “APOTHECARY!” She corrects and, the two of you giggle like schoolchildren as the librarian shoots daggers in your direction, “Don’t play coy with me- I spilled my guts about Jungkook. Fair is fair.”
Resigned, you let out a sigh and try to contain all of your emotions towards the subject, “Fiiiiine. The general simply explained that...” you look around to make sure no one is listening before lowering your voice, “that the reason we haven’t, hmmm what’s the word-” You pause once more, looking rather pensive, “defiled one another yet, is because he wants to wait until he has no more distractions. Which basically means we must wait until retirement, which of course also means- I am likely to go insane.”
Rachel snorts, slapping a hand over her mouth in an effort to conceal with laughter, “Wow he is serious about his intimacy.” She comments as she places a hand on your shoulder, “It’s been nice knowing you. I will tell the world your story.”
Slumping against her, you groan, feeling the full weight of your impatience, “If you’re wondering whether or not he still kisses me passionately beneath the moonlight despite the fact that he wants to wait- the answer is a resounding yes.” You explain, matter of factly, “it’s like he is wishing for the destruction of my sanity...”
Rachel links arms and giggles once again, “Look at us hm? Being pined for by heroes like in the poems that line these shelves...” She nods to them, “Who have thought?”
“I am slightly regretting all of my daydreams involving a knight in shining armor- who would have thought there would be so much yearning?”
She merely laughs again, shaking her head at you, “Have you two discussed his retirement?”
You nod, “His entire battalion is retiring this year. He said it should be around the wintertime, all of them have been in service for 10 years, including Jungkook.”
“That’s incredible: ten years of such a hard life. I couldn’t imagine. Do you know what they will do?”
“That means Jungkook joined the queen’s army before he was of age,” You observe, furrowing your brow, “I imagine they will retire with their chosen partners. Yoongi said that, that was his plan at least-” Your voice turns slightly coy at the end, “I don’t imagine they will have to work for the rest of their lives. My parents always talk about how well taken care of decorated soldiers are.”
Rachel’s face falls, “I’m just imagining Jungkook choosing this life at such a young age...the things those men have seen and, the rough life they have in service to the two queens...” She shakes her head, “I hope they all find peace and happiness, no matter what they choose.”
You nod, resting your head on her shoulder, “I think they have made their choices already- it all depends on if their partners reciprocate their advances.”
Rachel nudges you when she hears your teasing tone, “Quiet down you, we’re in the library...”
After much more giggling and, gushing over the men that have stolen your hearts, the two of you part ways.
Rachel has an evening to prepare for after all...
She rushes home after her time at the library. The books she gathered for her lesson on Monday are carefully placed on her bookshelf and, the ingredients for tonight’s meal are sprawled out on her countertop.
As she begins the long process of preparing for her night with Jungkook, she allows her mind to wander to a place she seldom visits: the past.
Like most people, she finds indulging in this subject to be quite the slippery slope. Today, she finds herself remembering a time where finding love seemed like nothing more than an elaborate fantasy. Rachel is a brilliant woman yes, but she has mistakenly branded herself as invisible for most of her life.
Now, she is faced with the reality that not only does someone see her but, they are enamored with her.
It’s slightly terrifying.
Another quiet breath is pulled through her nose then as she smooths her hands over her dress once more.
Glancing back towards the home she’s shared with herself over the years, a small smile comes over her face as she realizes that she might need to get used to the idea of sharing.
But then again, it will be nice to have someone around during the winter...
Especially when that someone has biceps like Jungkook.
Rachel waves at a group of students who scream her name excitedly from across the street whilst desperately hoping that they don’t try to follow her to her destination.
With another deep breath, she begins heading out of the market plaza and into the deep emerald of the clearing just before the camp. Normally around this time, she would be heading there with Y/N to deliver bread but, tonight she takes a sharp left into forest.
She had given Jungkook instructions on how to get there and he had then insisted on getting there before her to set things up. Rachel realized at that moment that her ability to refuse him was at a minimum, especially when he flashed those beautiful eyes her way.
Curse him and his ethereal beauty.
Narrowing her eyes slightly, she navigates through the maze of trees as the sound of running water slowly makes its way into her ears. A smile comes across her lips then, as she realizes she’s getting close.
The sun is beginning to take the minimal warmth of the day with it as it begins its descent towards the horizon and, she feels slightly regretful that she chose to meet with him around sunset.
Sometimes you have to sacrifice body heat for the ambience.
As she nears one of the many pools that come off of the main river, she finally sees Jungkook waiting for her. Slowly but surely, she can make out his appearance for the evening and as she does, her heart swoons.
He’s standing somewhat awkwardly at the edge of a large tan woolen blanket, dressed in a red tunic and red cloth pants, with his onyx locks freshly washed and curling in various directions atop his head. She sees him swallow at the sight of her, the tiniest of smiles etching onto his lips.
“Good evening.” He bows slightly, gesturing to her, “You look- um, you look very nice.”
She returns his smile, fingers clutching the basket of food a bit tighter, “Good evening. I could say the same to you, red looks really great on you.”
His stance seems to light up at her compliment, the tiny smile growing, “That’s what my hyungs said, I wasn’t sure if it was too much but, if you like it then-” He nods, cringing at how nervous he feels, “-then that’s good.”
Rachel bites her lip, noticing his nerves immediately, “I love it,” She assures him before raising the basket up, “I brought dumplings. I wasn’t sure what kind you liked so I brought a few different ones.”
At the mention of food, the tension within his figure seems to dissipate.
“I can’t wait to try them,” He grins now as he gestures to the blanket, “You can sit wherever you’d like, I can take those from you-” He shakes his head then, regretting his choice of words, “No wait... here-” He is gentle as he takes the basket from her before turning around to set it carefully on the blanket. He then reaches out with his palm extended, “I’ll help you down...”
Her heart bursts.
It seems she isn't the only one flooded with nervous excitement.
“Thank you-” She insures to heighten the gratitude within her tone, wanting to soothe his anxiety in any way she can, despite feeling so much of her own.
He plops next to her in a less graceful manner then he would have hoped as he looks regretfully toward his canteen, “We don’t have an extra canteen in the camp. They were all given away to the new recruits. I would have brought you your own but, I washed mine for you and filled it up. I can drink from the river over there.”
“Oh goodness no, you don’t have to do that-” She shakes your head, pulling out her canteen from the basket, “I figured you would have had your own; I should have brought you one just in case though-”
“No really, it’s ok! I can just use mine.” Once again, he cringes, “I guess it’s a bit strange that I would have thought you’d want to drink from mine...I don’t know what I was thinking.”
At the rather innocent pout on his lips, he looks up at her- feeling slightly hopeless.
A bit of silence lingers in the air for a moment before Rachel giggles and at the sound, Jungkook’s lips twitch.
“It’s not a good sign that you’re already laughing-” He laments, the smiling that was threatening his mouth fully taking over, “Even though I quite like hearing it...”
Rachel places a cautious hand over Jungkook’s knuckles, relishing in the warmth of his skin, “I promise you it is-“ She disagrees, “It’s important that I’m around people I can laugh with- even if its at our own expense sometimes…”
The corner of Jungkook’s mouth turns up in a half smile, “That might work out in my favor then- my hyungs say I appear one way but, behave another…I guess that’s why I feel so nervous now…”
He looks up at her quite innocently through his long eyelashes as Rachel furrows her brow, “What do you mean?”
Jungkook’s fingers are now aimlessly toying with the bit of loose thread and, with her heightened sense of empathy, Rachel can sense that he is burdened in some way.
“I am slightly afraid that you will be disappointed when you get to know me…” He admits.
This shocks Rachel as she cannot imagine how someone as beautiful as Jungkook could lack confidence in any capacity. But still, she feels the urge to understand him.
“Well, I don’t want to discount your worries Mr. Jeon but, “ She tilts her head slightly, a hint of sternness in her gaze, “I sincerely doubt your ability to disappoint me.”
Jungkook’s cheeks begin to burn all over again; there is something about the way her lips look curving around the words ‘Mr. Jeon’ that he stores away for a later time.
“Aren’t I already different than what you expected?” He chuckles, and the sound is boyish and full of airiness but, it still holds a bit of tension.
He was right.
He was much different than she had anticipated but that isn’t saying much, considering the fact that her first impression of him came after he took down a group of raiders.
“Different doesn’t always mean disappointment…” She assures him candidly, “In fact, I am quite relieved that you aren’t what I expected.”
He is intrigued, “Most of the people I meet are afraid of me but, I can’t say I blame them; My hyungs and I come with a reputation. Were you afraid of us when we came here?”
Jungkook wants to know what she thinks, even if he might be uncomfortable with her answer.
Rachel eyes the dumplings collecting the cool air around them and, doesn’t even notice the fact that they have yet to start eating. Both of them are too overcome with anticipation to pay attention to much else aside from each other.
It felt instinctual to begin things this way.
“Yes.” She replies honestly, catching the way his face falls and regretting it instantly, “But that wasn’t your doing. I have come to understand that you and the rest of your battalion are merely victims of village gossip. Besides, the fear I felt quickly disappeared once I saw you.”
Jungkook’s face lightens once again as he extends his hand towards hers. Rachel feels a shiver rush eagerly up her spine as he slips his fingers between her own, “You aren’t afraid of me now?”
Anyone else may have found it odd that Jungkook needed this type of reassurance so early in the evening but, he simply couldn’t relax until he knew that he wasn’t perceived as a threat. He is so used to putting on a tough persona and, even more used to people fearing him. He has grown quite tired of always needing to disarm himself.
Tightening her grip on his hand, she allows a playful smirk to etch across her lips, “I wouldn’t have agreed to meet with you in the middle of the forest if I was afraid of you. That would be quite foolish don’t you think?”
Jungkook’s teeth are brilliant as he grins, a breathless bit of laughter leaving his mouth, “Not unless you were some sort of thrill seeker…”
Sensing the bit of suggestion in his voice, she takes her chance and utters, “Those aren’t exactly the type of thrills I’m seeking…”
Jungkook feels his mouth dry up at her words but, before he has time to process any of it, she raises the basket once more, “These are getting cold.”
And ever the gentleman, he doesn’t comment on it but just as he did with the image of her lips, he stores her comment away.
For later.
The two of them begin eating and, Rachel watches on fondly as he shoves more than half of the dumplings in his mouth. She can tell he is doing his best to appear civilized but, Y/N did mention that they don’t eat proper meals very often so, his manners weren’t exactly in tip-top shape.
Rachel didn’t mind. In fact, she took great pleasure in watching him stuff himself. His cheeks puffed up adorably to accommodate the volume of dough he was shoving in them but, despite him wanting to eat the entire batch, he kept insisting on feeding her bites of food every 30 seconds or so.
During dinner, they talked about all sorts of things:
Rachel’s childhood, her work as an educator, her favorite seasons…
Jungkook wanted to learn it all.
He was fascinated by her entire existence.
However, after a certain amount of time, Rachel begins to notice how he continuously shifts the conversation back towards her. He doesn’t look uncomfortable when she asks him questions but, he keeps answering them as quickly as possible.
Finally, Rachel decides this theme has gone on long enough before she finally asks the one question that’s been on her mind all night.
“What led to you joining Yoongi’s battalion so early?”
Jungkook swallows the instant lump in his throat, “Uh well…it wasn’t hyung’s battalion yet when I first joined. We both went in together. He took over when he was about…” He thinks for second, “20 I think? So I would have been about 17. But we were both running in missions long before that.”
Rachel almost comments on the fact that he didn’t answer her question but, he beats her to it and, continues.
“Yoongi-hyung and I are brothers but, not by blood.” He begins, “His family took me in when I was 7.”
She can sense that he is about to tell her something quite serious so, she hesitates to ask any further questions; he would clarify if he was comfortable enough to do so.
“Hyung and I are from the same village. Our families had been neighbors for three generations until-“ He averts his eyes, preparing to tell the story that started it all, “we were attacked. Our village was destroyed by a raider clan. The first incident wasn’t so bad but, they came back and-“ Jungkook swallows the emotions that have balled up in his throat, “they decided that they weren’t after our valuables any longer; they were after blood.”
Rachel’s whole body is tense with the weight of his story, her mouth seemingly frozen in its slightly parted position as she tightens her grip on his hand.
“I still can’t comprehend it.” He breathes, shaking his head, “It wasn’t even like they were trying to recruit us or take us as laborers; they just wanted to create chaos.”
She can see the way his eyes are growing glossy and the way his breath seems to shorten and with her whole being, she expects to wipe his tears but, they never come.
“Our families tried to flee the village together but-“ He clears his throat, “my parents and I were shot by the enemy’s arrows. I remember seeing them go down in front of me and, then there was this horrible pain in my side. I tried to stay with them but, Yoongi-hyung wouldn’t let me. He just threw me over his shoulder and ran. I still don’t know how he did it; he must have ran with me for hours before we made it to the next secure village.”
Still captivated by his story, Rachel runs his thumb over the backs of his knuckles to ensure that he knows she’s right there with him.
“I’m so sorry.” She whispers and, he offers a sad smile in return, squeezing her hand.
“Hyung told me many years later that the shots my parents received were fatal. There was no chance of rescue. But, for so long I believed I had abandoned them there. From then on, the only family I knew was Yoongi-hyung and, the parents he decided to share with me; He shared everything with me actually: his food, his clothes, his bed, his patience,” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “When the military council came for him, I panicked; we had been inseparable for so long. I couldn’t stand to see my hyung going off to war alone so,” At last the heavy emotions begin to lift from his face as a slight smirk comes over his lips, “I may have snuck out in the middle of the night and, followed him out…”
Rachel’s eyes widen, “You could have been killed!” She smacks his arm playfully which causes him to break out in a fit of laughter, “How on Earth did you manage that??? I’ve always heard they were so meticulous!”
Jungkook shrugs, somewhat smugly, “I fit in quite well. I was already taller than hyung at this age and, he and I had been training together since we were young.”
“What did he say when  realized you had come along??? I’m surprised he didn’t send you home himself.”
He is chuckling again, his eyes lighting up fondly at the memory, “Oh he nearly killed me himself actually…he found me hiding out in a barn on the military camp and, it was truly the only time I’ve ever seen him that afraid. But once he was done lecturing me, we both decided it was safer for me to stay. Hyung was worried that I’d be punished if he turned me in to his general so, I passed as a volunteer. The rest is history…”
Rachel grins, overcome with fondness, “History indeed, especially the part when you became the youngest recruit to ever join the royal army.”
The faintest blush crosses his cheeks, “Well technically, the records will never reflect that, most people in our land believe hyung and I are the same age. I personally find this hard to understand as he clearly has so many more wrinkles than I do but-“ He shrugs again, “I suppose it works out.”
She smirks, “I suppose it does. I don’t know where the royal army would be without it’s Terror Cub…”
Jungkook groans, his face turned up in disgust, “I will haunt the historian who writes that name down in the books. Could they not have come up with something more menacing? Terror Cub? It sounds like a character in a children’s book…”
He is pouting profusely now and, Rachel decides that his adorable expression is far deadlier than any weapon he could wield.
She was simply powerless against it.
“I promise not to go blathering to any of our historians about it. If anyone asks, I will tell them you were the fiercest solider in all of the land.”
Jungkook’s heart swells with pride as he subconsciously puffs out his chest, “While you’re there please tell them of our involvement as well. I hope to be remembered for the pursuits of my heart rather than just my skills on the battlefield…”
Rachel’s lips twitch, “What exactly shall I tell them?”
His demeanor shifts slightly and, it's as if the sparkle in his eyes turns to lightening, “I think you should tell them that-” The distance between their lips seems to lessen almost subconsciously as Jungkook licks over his bottom lip, “our connection was medicinal, that it was almost as if we had been holding our breath until we finally found one another.”
Despite Jungkook’s words raising every hair upon Rachel’s skin, he seems to grow immediately nervous by his candid statement.
“That’s really excessive isn’t it? My hyungs always tell me that I should think before I-“
But he isn’t able to finish his sentence…
Rachel has closed the distance between them and, is pressing her lips against his own. Jungkook’s body stalls at the feeling and, he assumes the whole world stalls along with him.
For in this moment, there is nothing else but her lips.
Jungkook’s hands are unstable as they reach her cheeks and, he grimaces because he knows his palms are damp with the evidence of his nerves.
But Rachel doesn’t notice.
She can only sigh hopelessly into his mouth as the two of them deepen their kiss.
============================
The river welcomes you with open arms this evening. The chill of the oncoming fall season is no match for the thick woolen coat your mother made for you last year. Tonight, you are overcome with peace as you stroll along the embankment. You’ve always felt so much happiness around the river but ever since meeting Yoongi, the meaning of this piece of land has shifted and intensified.
He is unlike anyone you’ve ever known. He’s wise and controlled but, he carries a type of wildness that is uniquely his own. The great and powerful Tiger: he is so much more than just a rumor.  Even though you claimed to make your own judgements about things, you still expected Yoongi to be some sort of brut; an egotistic warrior at best or a bloody thirsty monster at worst.
But you had been wrong.
Yoongi was a man of great skill yes, quick like lightening and deadly like his feline persona but, his heart contained so much depth and so much warmth, that you found yourself drowning in it. The two of you hadn’t known each other long but, the emotions are already so strong. Your future with him is all you find yourself daydreaming about and, you can only hope that he is able to keep all of the promises he made to you.  
The anxiety surrounding his departure strikes again, right in the middle of your heart.
You have half a mind to join his ranks or even stowaway amongst the new recruits…
Surely he wouldn’t notice if you wore a disguise, right?
The twigs snapping on the forest floor behind you remove you from your ridiculous plan as a smile immediately graces your face.
“You’re late.” You call, not bothering to turn around, “Did the recruits keep you tied up again?”
There is a bit of silence before a voice answers your question.
“I didn’t realize you were expecting me- although it doesn’t surprise me that Yoongi’s plaything would have a heightened sense of awareness…” The voice is unfamiliar and, it causes your blood to run cold, “…given that she’s canoodling with a monster.”
It all happens so quickly.
Just as you’re about to turn towards the voice, a burly arm is wrapping around your neck. Gasping for air, your hands immediately fly up to claw at your attacker’s forearm.
Panic is rushing through you, your feet kicking around as he attempts to drag you backwards into the trees.
“You really shouldn’t be out in the dark by yourself, pretty.” He snarls into your ear, his breath reeking of alcohol, “There are a lot of maniacs out here…”
You can feel yourself losing consciousness as he tightens his grip on your neck. Your fingernails are desperately digging into his skin, trying to cause him any discomfort that you can.
“I want to see the look on his face-“ Your assailant cackles, “I want to see his reaction to your cold body laying in the place where you first kissed…He thinks he’s strong but-“
You hear him gasp for breath as an unknown force seemingly knocks it out of him. When he releases his grip on your neck, you frantically suck in the air around you, wincing as you fall to your knees.
In your attempt to distance yourself you scramble up against the nearest tree and, just as you’re about to scream for help, you realize that you’re not alone.
A golden dagger sticks out of your attacker’s shoulder as he attempts to get away from the one who threw it: Yoongi.
“Stay right there.” He calls to you gently, his eyes devoid of any emotion.
You are still reeling from nearly being choked to death but, you listen to his command, nonetheless. The man on the floor is dressed in the colors of the royal army and, you gather that he belongs to Yoongi’s battalion- or at least he pretended to.
Yoongi catches him by the hair as he drags him up to his knees. The man is spluttering from the pain, his brows drawn in tightly as he struggles against Yoongi’s grip.
“Do you remember the lesson from this morning, rat?” He ventures, his voice casual and icy cold.
“Y-yes sir…”
Yoongi rips his hair back again so the tip of his nose is facing the sky, “What was it?”
“Ah!” He groans, his hands balling up at his sides, “N-necessities, sir.”
“Necessities- very good.” Yoongi would sound like he was praising him if it weren’t for the heartless smirk painted across his lips. “Now, would you say your head was a necessity?”
As Yoongi asks his question, he unsheathes his sword with his free hand and presses the blade to the man’s throat.
“Yes!” The man practically yelps, his body freezing beneath Yoongi’s grip, “Yes, sir! Very necessary, sir!”
You can’t help but watch in complete shock. There is a part of you that knows Yoongi would never kill someone in front of you but, the way the light has drained from his eyes is forcing you to doubt yourself.
“Oh is it now? What about your throat?”
Yoongi’s expression barely shifts but, you can literally feel the fury emanating off of his figure as he presses the blade further into his skin. Ruby red blood barely peeks out of the man’s skin as he whimpers.
“Yes-“ He chokes out, “It’s necessary! Please! They told me to kill her, I’m just the middleman! If you spare me, I promise I will tell you everything just-“
Yoongi stalls his movements, his eyes flashing towards you for a moment before yanking his head back again, “Who is they?”
Through another pained groan, the man spits out his answer, “The Meddleways sir.”
Although unfamiliar to you, the name seems to affect Yoongi greatly. However, he quickly composes himself and pulls the man upwards by his hair, “Stand up.”
Wincing, the man rushes to his feet, his hands lingering out in front of him with uncertainty.
With his lips curled beneath his fury, Yoongi offers one last eerily calm sentiment in the man's ear, “You are very lucky that I am in the presence of a lady. Had I come across you on my own-” He stops himself, taking a deep breath in through his nose. He shuts his eyes for a moment, collecting the storm inside of him before continuing, “I will put you with your leader after my men are done questioning you. From there, you will make the journey to your trial and, whilst you are on your way- please be sure to thank whatever god you believe in that I am not the one tasked with your punishment.”
Yoongi’s voice is nearly unrecognizable. It’s like a glacier, cold and enormous but, slow moving. It seems to inch into the man’s subconscious as he cowers beneath him.
“Do you understand?” Yoongi confirms to which the man nods immediately, “Good.”
With that final word, he rips the dagger out of the man's shoulder. His yelp is cut short by the handle of said dagger as Yoongi whacks it against the side of his head. The man falls to the ground unceremoniously, his body going limp for the time being.
The events that have transpired, leave you frozen against the bark of your favorite willow tree. Yoongi seems to know something you don’t and, you can’t fight your instinct to ask questions.
“Do you know him?”
Your voice seems to pull Yoongi away from his urges and back to reality. In an instant, he is rushing over to you, his cold gaze defrosting slightly as he assesses your wellbeing.
“Did he touch you?” He mutters, his fingers on the end of your chin, tilting your head to the side.
“Well, he was choking me but-”
Yoongi glowers, his nostrils flaring slightly, “Did he touch you?”
The way he emphasizes the word ‘touch’ gives you the hint that Yoongi is referring to whether or not he violated you.
“No...” You whisper, allowing your fingers to brush against his cheek, “He was only on me for a moment before you found us.”
Yoongi deflates under your touch but, to say that he relaxed would be an overstatement. In fact, it's safe to say that he has never been more tense in his entire life.
“Are you hurt?” His voice breaks at the end as he swallows back his emotions. Before you’re able to answer, Yoongi’s eyes light up with quiet rage all over again, “Your neck- it's going to bruise-”
“Hey-” You coax his gaze up to yours, “I’m safe. You saved me and, I’m safe.”
Your words unfortunately do nothing for him but, he doesn’t want to center this interaction around his fear. Instead, he simply nods and places a tense kiss to the center of your forehead before nodding to the limp figure behind him.
“I need to take him back to the compound, Namjoon and Jimin will get out any information he has. In the meantime, I need you to stay away from here. In fact, don’t go anywhere alone after sunset- not until I can assess the-”
“Let me come with you. I want to know what’s going on-”
Yoongi shakes his head, “No. It’s too dangerous to have you on the compound right now. My entire battalion may be compromised.”
“But Yoongi-”
His eyes grow cold again, “This is not a discussion. A civilian has no place in these matters.”
With his words, he drops his grip on you but just before he steps back, you are shooting a glare his direction.
“Civilian? Is that what you call me now, Min Yoongi?”
Using his full name would be considered disrespectful if the two of you didn’t know each other the way you do but, it still feels foreign coming out of your mouth.
Yoongi technically has authority over you and your entire village. If he wanted to, he could order you to do anything he wishes. Yoongi never exercises his power this way but, he is so overcome with fear that he wants to do anything to protect you. “You know that isn’t what I was implying. Don’t twist my words.”
“Then please feel free to untwist them for me. That term comes with a loaded meaning, and you know it...”
The tension clings in the air between you like moss to a tree. It’s uncomfortable and more importantly, unfamiliar. Yoongi stares you down, his hardened gaze wavering as the seconds pass. His eyes trace each feature of your face with desperation, seeking to memorize your current expression and, not because he is particularly fond of it but, merely because it belongs to you.
Yoongi’s future is not guaranteed and, therefore- neither is his life with you.
So he must memorize it all.
“I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.” He concedes, his features softening, “I just need some time to sort through my men. I won’t deny your request for information but, I have to gather it first. I am asking you to stay away until then and, its only because I fear for your safety- not because I don’t regard you as my equal.”
His words gnaw at your guard until it disappears and, suddenly you wish to be in his arms. You know both of your reactions came from a place of fear as its woefully unlike the two of you to misunderstand one another.
“I’m scared.” You whisper, “I don’t want to leave your side.”
Yoongi’s heart breaks at the worry written on your beautiful face and, he loathes the unconscious man beside him even more for making you feel this way.
“Come here,” He reaches a hand out towards you and, as soon as you take it, he is pulling you against him. He places a kiss atop your head, allowing his lips to linger for a moment. When he feels your fingers curl into fists around the fabric of his tunic, his eyes squeeze shut.
He is terrified.
“I won’t let anything happen to you ever again, do you understand?” He murmurs, his voice unstable, “I will protect you with my life and, gladly lay it down for your own.”
All you do is nod, burying your face into the crook of his neck, “But you’re going to leave me...”
And for this Yoongi has no response.
Because he will protect you yes, but he will never lie to you.
He is going to leave you and, it will be much sooner than he had planned; there is no use in training the recruits now- as far as he is concerned, they have all gone bad.
“Only my body will leave you.” He answers with another kiss to your head, “The rest of me is bound to you forever.”
----------------------------------------------------
It’s been nearly a day since you’ve seen Yoongi.
After he tied your attacker to a tree, he walked you back home and, fetched the rest of the men for reinforcements.
You have yet to see the man since Yoongi disarmed him but, more importantly, you hadn’t seen any of the battalion.
It was as if they had disappeared overnight.
The only indication of their presence was their horses roaming around the compound. The rest of the men were seemingly confined to their tents, a tactic likely used by the leaders to ensure they kept track of everyone whilst they interrogated the wayward recruit.
But still, it was unnerving.
It gave you another glimpse at what your world would look like very soon. Your life had changed so drastically since Yoongi’s arrival and, you simply weren’t ready to move throughout your day without the promise of meeting him by the river.
But you had to be ready.
You had to be ready a lot sooner than you anticipated.
The day had moved like slugs along the riverbank after the summer heat has dried up parts of its shoreline. Despite the nerves brewing within you and the ache of anticipation all over your body, the clocktower stared back at you defiantly, refusing to move.
Yoongi promised you he would come to your house as soon as he had the information he needed but, you weren’t planning on waiting for him any longer.
It had been nearly twenty-four hours since you were attacked and, without answers, you slowly felt yourself going insane with impatience. Once your wares were packed up and taken home, you strode with determination to the makeshift compound.
Still appearing to be deserted, you don’t have any clues as to which tent to start with first. You opt for the one that the seven men usually stay in and as you approach it, you desperately wish you were here delivering bread.
The illusion of simplicity had been shattered. You were being courted by the leader of the Royal Army and because of this, nothing was never simple to begin with.
You felt foolish for believing otherwise.
Before you’re able to ring the bell outside of the tent, you are met with Yoongi rushing from the opening, still dressed in the same clothes he wore the night prior. Dark rings of exhaustion are positioned around the sockets of his eyes and, his lips look as though they haven’t had a sip of water all day.
He is beautiful but, he looks like hell.
“I had a feeling I wouldn’t need to come looking over you-” He smiles but, it doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he offers his arm and jerks his chin towards the trees, “Walk with me?”
This can’t be good.
You nod, interlocking your arm with his and, taking a moment to relish the warmth that still ebbs and flows from him. Even with the gnawing monster of the unknown staring daggers at you in the distance, you feel safe with him.
“Did he keep his promise?” You ask him as the two of you step into the forest. The light shining through the trees is painted the same color as the sunset on the mountains and, if this were a normal meeting between the two of you, you would have admired it. However, the only thing you can focus on is what Yoongi has yet to tell you.
“He did,” He nods.
The promise, of course, refers to the attacker vowing to tell Yoongi anything he wanted to know if he decided to spare his life.
“And?” You cock your head, trying to catch his gaze that seems to be fixated upon the dirt beneath your feet.
If only you knew that he was actually staring at the way your dress billows in the wind, the way the shadows from the leaves bounce off the soft skin of your ankles...
He must memorize it all.
“I have to leave...” He finally says, looking up at you, “...tonight.”
The news is reasonable but, it feels like a cruel joke. You have half a mind to deny him, to lash out and, scold him for toying with you in such a way.
But Yoongi would never lie to you.
Ever.
“Tonight.” You whisper, swallowing the bitter flavor of the word. And almost involuntarily, your hands are curling gently around his forearms in protest, “Why tonight?”
Yoongi can quite literally taste the pain in your voice and, it sickens him; it sickens him because, there is nothing he can do about it.
He leaves his arms in place for you to touch however you want, thoroughly shocked that the desire still manages to coil in his stomach even in the face of such sadness.
“The man who gave me this scar on my face was the leader of a cruel wayward group known as the Meddleways. Years ago, after Namjoon successfully lead them to our army, the leader and I fought to the death. Xansa, was his name. It was the closest I had ever come to losing my life.” Yoongi almost smiles as he feels your grip on him tighten but, he opts for gently caressing beneath your elbows instead, “This group, they had plans to attack the Queen’s capital and assassinate the people who lived there. After the death of their leader however, many of them came to our side- claiming that they were held against their will. There were a small number who escaped and, I foolishly assumed they would dissolve.”
You look up at the scar he speaks of, gazing at the angry strip of marred flesh running down the center of his right eye. In complete silence, you reach up and trace your index finger along the shape of it, letting out a shaky sigh at the thought of someone causing him pain.
“They haven’t.” You conclude whilst Yoongi closes his eyes beneath your touch, “Have they?”
He simply shakes his head as his hands secure themselves round your waist. His eyes stay shut even when you move your hand from his scar to cup his cheek. The skin there is splotchy from the evening breeze and, surprisingly soft. You almost think to question it but, Yoongi is already answering your silent observation.
“Your salve.” He chuckles as his beautiful eyes finally open, “It would be swept up by the people of the capital in no time; it’s a miracle in a tin.”
Allowing just a moment of reprieve, your mind drifts to the not-so-distant future, “Shall I make a career there then? I imagine if you’re retiring, I will be the one providing for us.”
A bit of ego flashes through Yoongi’s eyes, his fingers curling into the fabric of your dress, “My villa is nowhere near the capital. And as for providing for us, I am pleased to inform you that I have enough gold from my military service to last us several lifetimes.”
Good, you think, one lifetime together wouldn’t be enough anyhow.
“Am I to be a housewife then?” You arch your brow, throwing an unimpressed but playful glance his way.
Yoongi smirks, “You are to be whatever you wish. It’s just worth noting that I have the means to take care of us both. Although, I will admit that whilst my retirement will hardly be noticed as there is already someone taking my place, if you chose to retire now that- that would have some dire consequences.”
His compliment, however silly, makes you giggle as you roll your eyes, “Your logic is insanely flawed my dear general however, I will accept your flattery nonetheless.”
Your laughter soothes the rawness in Yoongi’s heart, even if it’s just for a moment. He follows suit, unable to help the small bout of laughter that leaves his lips. But before long, you two seem to settle back into the solemnity of the moment and, you’re asking:
“There after you...aren’t they?”
Yoongi is nodding, his brows drawn tightly together whilst he murmurs, “They are coming for me now. My battalion and I must reconvene and cut them off before they attack here. Xansa is dead but, according to the man who attacked you, there is a new leader, Xansa’s brother. Their objective remains the same: they wish to destroy the peace the Queen’s have built and, exploit the land and it’s people for power.”
To know that not only is Yoongi tasked with defending the lands from violence, but also that he is being targeted specifically, frightens you beyond belief.
“Why can’t you stay hidden? My family will hide you; you could blend in here until they are defeated, I know it isn’t ideal but-” You sound panicked now and, it breaks Yoongi’s heart that he must deny you any reprieve.
“Darling,” He cups your face, his own bottomless gaze searching yours, “There is only one place in the world where I can truly hide. And someday,” A calloused thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek, “I will take you there and, we will live out the rest of our lives. But as of now, anywhere I go- weak minded men will follow, desperate to prove their idea of strength. My head is a trophy to all men who are poisoned by their masculinity.”
“Your head is not a trophy,” You protest but your voice barely reaches above a whisper, weakened by your own despair. For the last time it seems, you brush your fingers against his skin- electrocuted by the sensation, “and you are so much more than the rumors that follow you. So much more...”
Yoongi has to summon all the strength within him to keep his emotions at bay, not wanting to break down in front of you. Instead, he silently brings your lips to his and, presses the softest kiss to your mouth.
He pours everything he wish he had time to say into it, his breathing picking up slightly as you return the passion with everything you have.
The two of you know you have to break it off, especially as you hear the compound finally come to life beside you; they were preparing to leave.
With foreheads pressed together, you are the first one who speaks with bated breath, “Promise you’ll come back to me...”
His hands are on either side of your face now as he centers your focus on his eyes. You had yet to see such silent determination within them since you met and for the moment, it convinces you that his word is golden.
“I will crawl back to you if I have to.”
When you part, you gather that most of Yoongi’s men have already left. It appears that only the main unit and, a group of thirty or so remain in the compound.
“Hyung!” Hoseok calls from the front of the tent, his normally bright expression full of contempt, “It’s time.”
You detest how well their readiness to leave coincides with the end of your conversation but, it almost feels easier this way. Being unable to anticipate the exact point of Yoongi’s departure has allowed you to be suspended in ignorant bliss.
The pain isn’t as drawn out.
Yoongi returns his statement with a tight nod before, turning his attention back to you for the last time.
With all the power in him, he musters up a type of promise one can only convey with their eyes and says, “I’ll meet you back at the river...” He swallows around all of the words he wishes to utter but, with a delicate brush to your cheek, he leaves you with only two, “...my love.”
And suddenly, the world between you is massive once again.
Suddenly, he is a thousand miles from you even though he only moves a few yards away.
You feel frozen in place almost, your cheek burning with the remains of his touch as you try to catch the breath his words stole from you.
Is this really it?
The last guaranteed moments of your incredible connection with a man you could only dream about- is this truly how they end?
You’re standing there longer than you realize because, the next thing you know, you hear the whinny of the last horses and, the sharp commands of Jin’s voice.
Spinning around, you aren’t thinking clearly as you sprint towards the group of men beginning to ride away into the forest.
“General Min!”
You are surprised at how well your voice carries over the noise and, out of the group pops Yoongi riding on the back of a black stallion.
With his gold sword attached to his hip and, his capable hands controlling the reigns, Yoongi brings the movements of his horse to a stop.
“Don’t be late.” You call to him, fresh tears spilling silently from your eyes. But despite the tears, you are smiling- offering some semblance of hope to the two of you.
He chuckles, bowing his head towards you, eyes outlined in red, “Yes ma’am.”
Then he is gone.
And with him goes all of your steam for the time being.
It’s as though the energy has been pulled away from you, leaving you sullen and exhausted regardless of how much rest you’re able to get.
The weeks without Yoongi begin with nightmares. The one you had just before he left seems to haunt your subconscious day in and day out. It’s as if your brain were torturing you with worst case scenarios, preparing you for a world without him.
Without Yoongi.
The night the battalion left, you rushed over to Rachels and, upon her opening her door, you simply collapsed into her arms.
With your head on her shoulder, the two of you cried together. You hated the fact that she understood the pain you were in but, you were happy to have someone relate to.
She understood.
To live such an ordinary life one day, only to fall for a mysterious stranger the next…
And then to have that stranger seem so familiar, to connect so deeply with someone you haven’t known for very long and, then having to say goodbye…
It was a very specific type of pain and, your best friend knew exactly what the sting felt like.
Nearly a month of this passes before you receive something that has your monotone soul seeing color once again: a letter from Yoongi.
A young man, who identifies himself as a royal messenger, shows up at your door with a tightly wrapped piece of parchment that contains enough hope to keep you going for the foreseeable future. This young messenger explains that he was commissioned by the “the Royal General” to deliver two letters to this village every month until his return.
Two letters meaning, one to you and of course, one to the beloved schoolteacher next door.
The thought of Rachel getting to hear from Jungkook makes your heart sing.
Trying to contain the tears in your eyes, you thank the messenger profusely before practically tripping over your own feet as you rush back to your bedroom. You waste no time in removing the protective fabric from the letter, your shaky hands nearly ripping the corner of the parchment.
Y/N,
I know we didn’t discuss writing to one another but, I couldn’t handle not contacting you in some way. Thankfully, I’m privileged enough to have access to the royal messengers and, they have promised me they would deliver my letters until I return. Are you staying healthy? I know how cold it must be getting where you live. Please reassure me that you’re staying warm so, I can stop obsessing over it.
Our men have been successful so far. We’ve encountered many obstacles but, we have the strategies to hold our own. Most of my days have been spent working on a pathway out of this mess but, we have been unable to find the new leaders of the Meddleways. The Queens are aware and have sent reinforcements but, we still have a long way to go.
Not to worry, I still plan on keeping my promises to you. It’s the only thing that keeps me alert most of the day as I haven’t been able to sleep as much as I’d like to. Our time at the river spoiled me, I didn’t realize how much energy I was getting from your lips. Sleep depravity meant nothing when I was with you.
Yours,
Yoongi.
By the time you finish the letter, a teardrop is regretfully staining the center of the page. Frantically, you wipe it from the parchment before it’s able to blur the ink placed there by your lover. The indents from his lettering are the only piece of him you have so, you press your fingers to the page in an effort to feel closer to him.
Over and over, you read the words he wrote, overcome with gratitude that he would go to such lengths to have this message delivered to you. By the time you’ve read it for the tenth time, your mother is calling you from the other room, signaling supper is ready.
You have no interest in eating at this moment but, you know that family dinners aren’t something you’ll be able to enjoy once Yoongi returns. So, you decide to file your thoughts away for later and join your parents in the main room.
The meal your mother prepared takes a lot of time and effort so, you insist on cleaning up after the three of you finish eating and, send your parents to bed early. They work so hard and, deserve all of the rest in the world.
After cleaning up the kitchen, you eagerly return to your room to draft your response to Yoongi.
General Min,
I am pleased to report that I have not one but, two woolen blankets at my disposal. You can put your obsessions regarding my warmth to rest for the time being. Other than missing you, my health has kept up just fine since you left. The village is preparing for a rainy season as we do every year but, I’m actually quite excited for the storms.
It’s good to know the Queens are supporting your mission as I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to track down such a volatile group. Nevertheless, my faith in your abilities is still strong. If anyone were able to apprehend them, it would be you. In regard to your sleep deprivation, I can only offer you my energy from afar. I visit the river every night since you’ve been gone and, I find myself leaning against our tree, wishing that it was you who was pressing me into it.
Continue to think of my lips, General. They will be all over you before you know it.
I cannot wait to hear from you again,
Y/N  
A smirk is on your lips as you seal your letter with melted wax, hoping that your wayward tongue motivates him to keep going. The promise of finally being able to consummate your passion for one another burns brightly within you and, you can only hope he will feel the same.  
The messenger had explained to you that he would return for your letter in the morning as he had other deliveries in the area. That night, you slept particularly well and, for once you were able to dream of something peaceful.
As promised, the man returns to your home the next morning to collect your letter and with a tip of his hat, he assures you that he will return the same time next month.
And he certainly does but, it seemingly comes at the cost of said month dragging on endlessly. However, when the messenger shows up at your home, you are quick to forget the last four weeks and, instead just focus on the small piece of Yoongi waiting for you. Before the boy continues on, a nagging question enters your mind and, you are stopping him before he reaches Rachel’s house.
“Excuse me, I hate to pry but, have you been in contact with the general at all?”
He offers a small smile as he shakes his head, “No, ma’am. The general leaves his letters at one of my many posts throughout this land. I met with him only once but, he specifically instructed me not to come looking for him if he didn’t leave anything for me to deliver; he said it was too dangerous.”
This frightens you as it comes ripened with the devastating possibility of Yoongi being incapacitated in some way. Of course it isn’t the man’s intention to worry you and rather than unloading all your anxieties onto him, you merely smile back and thank him for his time.
Before he knocks on Rachel’s door, you also learn his name and, silently scold yourself for not thinking to do so sooner.
He tells you his name is Hyunjin and, expresses his gratitude for your business before leaving you alone to read your letter.
Y/N,
I am trying to find the words to properly convey how many times I re-read your letter and, all of the ways I managed to use it, without sounding crude, but then I remembered that my Y/N doesn’t really care much for decency does she? So I shall be candid for once…
It’s very late when I’m writing my response and, I am overwhelmed with my desire for you. It’s quite sickening actually. I feel lightheaded when I think of us alone together.
Never in my entire life have I wanted someone so badly.
I wish I could see you somehow. Jungkook draws pictures of Rachel on every surface he can but, I don’t possess the artistic abilities he does. My attempts to draw you would be insulting. Although, I wouldn’t commission anyone to illustrate you either; They would mess it up somehow.
How has your month been? Are you still baking bread as often now that my greedy battalion is away?
Yours,
Yoongi
You are immediately transported back to your schoolyard days as you squeal into your bedsheets at his confessions. Yoongi truly had a way of saying everything you needed to hear in only a few words. More notably, he had a way of speaking so passionately; it took your breath away.
Feeling full of unbridled optimism, you pull out a fresh piece of parchment and your ink to begin drafting your response to him. 
General Min,
I can’t help but wish you had been a bit cruder. Next time, feel free to include all of the way you used my words; it would comfort me to know that I am tending to your needs from so far away.
It seems as though you and I share the same illness. I can’t help but, think of you in the same light every evening when I’m trying to sleep. I only wish I was able to dream of you the same way, I’m certain I would wake up feeling much more rested.
Are there any updates on your progress? It’s been three months and, yet I feel as though it’s been twice as long. Are you feeling alright? Are you able to find adequate shelter?
I’m sorry for the interrogation but, I can’t help myself when I begin worrying about you.
Tell Jungkook that Rachel draws him as well. Every time I visit her at home, she is shoving one of her pictures into dress pocket. She thinks I don’t notice but, I most certainly do.
What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t know when she was in love?
In regards to the bread, I am baking slightly less than I was before but, I still find myself adding in extra ingredients for you all every now and then.
I’ve gone on long enough but, I still have so much more to say.
Just know, I miss you terribly.
Love,
Y/N
Hyunjin returns again the following morning and, graciously accepts your letter before heading on his way. When you hand him the parchment full of late night confessions, you truly think nothing of it.
Despite the longing you felt for Yoongi, you had grown used to looking forward to his letters. In a way, it was almost as if he were much closer than he actually was. The letters made you feel like he were writing to you from the capital while he was away on business rather than out in the middle of the battlefield.
But that didn’t change the reality.
Yoongi was out in the battlefield and, things were growing far more complicated than he was letting on.
“Hyung, we can’t keep evading their fire. They are going to catch up to us eventually.”
Yoongi has been trying to write his response to you for over an hour and, every time he sits down to do so- he is interrupted.
This time, the interruption comes from Hoseok who stumbles into the tent, sore from yesterday’s battle.
“Yes they will,” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “and when they do, we will lead them to the outskirts of the capital where the Queen’s have established reinforcements.”
“Aren’t you worried they will strike before then? We have already lost-“
Yoongi interrupts him now, trying his best to control the frustration and pain in his tone, “I am aware. I write down every single one of their names. That does not change my plan. We will not engage unless we absolutely have to. I don’t want to see another village go down beneath our fire.”  
Hoseok is dissatisfied with his answer but, he knows better than to question Yoongi when he is like this.
“What is our plan for tomorrow, hyung? Are we moving to a new area?” Jimin asks quietly, his tired eyes barely lingering open as he runs his fingers through Taehyung’s hair. His head is positioned in Jimin’s lap whilst his injured body tries to recuperate; everyone was losing their steam. “I don’t know if Taehyung should be travelling right now. He might have to ride on the back of my horse if we must move on…”
Yoongi’s chest tightens as he sees the state of his men.
The most prestigious army is now littered with bruises and open wounds. There isn’t a single muscle in their bodies that doesn’t feel strained or damaged in some way and, he doesn’t even remember the last time they had a proper meal.
Clutching his quill in his fist, he nods solemnly at Jimin’s comment, “You are probably right. I will walk the perimeter with the rest of our men tonight before bed and if all is clear, he can camp out an extra day whilst he heals.”
Jimin offers a small smile in return that only just reaches his eyes, “Thank you, hyung.”
He nods tightly, adjusting the grip on his quill before continuing to write; he has so much he wants to tell you. He wants to cry out to you in his letter but, he doesn’t want to worry you. Instead, he’d rather pretend like everything is alright, like the two of you are merely star-crossed lovers sneaking around after dark and, writing in code to communicate with one another without being caught.
He wants to pretend like he is anyone else but most of all, he wishes to pretend to be the man he promised you he would be.
But, he won’t lie to you.
He can’t.
Y/N,
This might be the last time you hear from me for a while. Things are growing extremely difficult for my men and I. We must now focus all of our efforts on making it to the outskirts of the capital safely so, that we have the reinforcements we need.
My entire body aches for you, Y/N. There is no comfort for me aside from your letters.
And as much as it pains me to say it, I am beginning to fear that I might not make it home to you. I have yet to express this to my men because, I don’t want to worry them. I just don’t know what our future holds anymore.
We have sustained so many losses.
I don’t want to worry you either but, I am only doing so because, I need you to know something. My need for you to understand this overcomes my need to make you comfortable.
I love
BANG.
With a flash of fire, the tent Yoongi resides in is quickly overwhelmed with chaos.
And as he hears the desperate calls of his men, he knows he has no choice but to abandon his words to you and, fight.
Or else he and his men are doomed.
---------------------------------------
There wasn’t a particular day Hyunjin arrived but, you did expect him to come some time during the middle of the month. However, the middle of the month comes and goes without a word from him and, while you find this to be quite odd, you chose to think nothing of it.
Yoongi was in the middle of a lengthy mission, it was a miracle you had been able to hear from him as much as you did.
However, when the second month passes without word from him- you begin to feel the tidal wave of panic swelling inside of you.
You feel idiotic for getting sucked into the romance of letter writing. It had convinced you, only for a moment, that there was nothing at stake.
But this couldn’t be further from the truth.
Everything was on the line.
How could you lessen your vigilance?
Yoongi could very well be in a grave danger somewhere and, you would never know.
Does he have arrangements for such a thing?
Did he consider this?
Of course he did, you think, as you begin to choke back your tears.
He has seen more carnage than you could ever imagine; he most certainly thought of informing you of his passing.
So maybe this is a sign to be hopeful.
Maybe this means that he is merely stuck somewhere or far too busy to send letters.
With an almost delusional sense of certainty, you furiously wipe your hand across your face and, try to gather yourself.
Today was a busier day at the market so, you desperately hoped things would move quickly.
For once, you are lucky enough to have your wish granted.
The next month however, isn’t so merciful.
Every day is the same. You wake up, try to muster up a smile, pack your wares and sell in the plaza. You bring Rachel her snacks and, the two of you eat in silence before it becomes too much and, you both end up crying.
She hasn’t heard from Jungkook either.
It’s been three months and, you have heard nothing about the whereabouts of the men you intended to be with for the rest of your lives. It’s as if the world is turned upside down and, you spend the majority of your time thinking the worst.
The next morning however, you are granted the briefest moment of respite when Hyunjin knocks at your door. You barely manage to pull on your coat when you yank open the door and, beam at his presence.
“Thank goodness, I was so worried-“ You are cheering for only a second until you catch a glimpse of his expression.
“Good morning ma’am. I’m sorry to have disturbed you but, I felt it was my duty to give you an update on the General…”
Your blood is cold and still within your veins and, the sickening feeling of grief begins crawling its way through your senses.
“We haven’t heard from his battalion for months now. The Queens have sent out a league of experts to find them but, we have yet to-“ He swallows back his nerves as he sees the look on your face, “-we have yet to be successful.”
The tears are unstoppable as they quickly flood the sockets of your eyes. Your hand feels clammy whilst it grips your door frame, your whole body growing numb with each word he utters.
“This doesn’t mean the worst, ma’am. The Tiger’s army is well known for disappearing like this, it’s part of their strategy. I just didn’t want you to be left wondering why I didn’t return. When I went to the postal location, nothing was waiting for me.”
With a shaky and unrecognizable voice, you ask, “Not from Jungkook either?”
He frowns, looking at you with pity, “Nothing, ma’am. There are normally hundreds of letters for me to deliver and, I didn’t find a single one.”
Regardless of his attempt to comfort you, you knew exactly what this meant: something was horribly wrong.
You couldn’t even manage to think of the word but, all of your terrifying nightmares containing Yoongi begin to flood your subconscious. It's all you can think about now.
“I promise to update you as soon as I hear from them, ma’am.” Hyunjin feels immensely uncomfortable delivering this news and, he is eager to return home as quickly as possible.
All you can manage is a nod before you robotically begin closing your door, “Thank you, Hyunjin.”
Thankfully, your parents are out for the day so, you’re able to shut the door quietly before sliding against it, allowing a broken sob to leave your lips.
You knew in your heart that the likelihood of Yoongi and his battalion being safe was next to nothing. The lack of his letters had been evidence enough but, you wanted to remain hopeful, you wanted to convince yourself that he was just busy.
But you were lying to yourself.
Cupping your hand around your mouth, you let out all of the emotion you couldn’t relinquish in front of Hyunjin. Your eyes burn as your tears stain your cheeks, your lips parted in a silent scream. With your body shaking, you cry for the life you were never able to have and, for the man you were never able to love.
That evening, your mother helps you into bed. She understands when you refuse supper even though she made your favorite. She lets you cry in her lap like you did when you were a little girl only this time, you weren’t crying over schoolyard bullies.
You don’t leave your bed for two weeks. The only time you have contact with anyone other than your parents is when Rachel finally decides to drop by to check on you. Of course, the feeling had been mutual and, just as you had before, the two of you spend most of your time crying together.
Once she decides to leave, you are once again left alone with your thoughts, all of which are of Yoongi. Today in particular, you are remembering his hands and, the first time you intertwined fingers.
“Why are you looking at my hands?” You had asked him
“Because I want to hold them.”
His voice echoes in your mind now as fresh tears find their way out of your eyes for the millionth time and, it’s this memory that prompts you to visit the river.
You hadn’t been back since Hyunjin came to deliver the news. The thought of going there alone sent a deep sadness through you but, part of you felt like it might be a good idea.
If you were to ever truly mourn him properly, you would have to grieve every piece of your time together.
Wrapping yourself up in your winter coat, you make the short journey towards a place you once called your favorite spot in the world. At first, it was because of the inner peace it had brought you but once Yoongi came into the picture, it took on a whole new meaning.
The rain had stopped hours ago so other than a bit of extra mud and a much colder breeze, the river looked just as it did during the summer.
Securing your coat tighter around yourself, you sniffle whilst looking out towards the river. The palette of the sunset is reflecting off the water and, bouncing against the ground beneath your feet. If it had been under any other circumstances, you would have felt content here. You would be collecting herbs, humming to yourself, speaking with the forest creatures- despite their lack of understanding you but...
Most importantly, you would be waiting for Yoongi.
The thought once again causes you to cry as your brain tries to conceptualize a world without him.
It seems so impossible.
...
“So- is this where the tree bark grows?”
Your eyes widen and you turn around so quickly you nearly fall over. As if out of a fairytale, General Min Yoongi stands just beneath the entrance to the river, dressed head to toe in his strongest armor. His hair is slightly messy and framing either side of his face and his mouth is portraying a brilliant smile.
He’s alive.
You’re crying harder now, frozen in place as you call to him, playing out the first time you two met here,
“You of all people should know not to ambush someone like that...”
If you aren’t mistaken, you see him sniffle as the smile on his face only grows, “I’m sorry, I’m late ma’am...”
His voice breaks at the end and the next thing you know, you are running. Opening his arms, he braces himself for you and, as you crash into him- he uses all of his strength to lift you off the ground. Spinning in a circle, he chuckles fondly when you start placing kisses anywhere you can reach: his cheeks, his lips, his nose, his forehead, his chin...
It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s him.
“You bastard!” You cry to him which only causes him to laugh harder, “I thought you were dead I- I thought you were...”
He stops spinning as his gloved hands come up to cup your face, his eyes wet with the slightest evidence of tears, “Shhh I know, I’m so sorry- I tried everything to reach you but, it wasn’t safe...”
You’re shaking your head, your hands coming up to rest over his, needing to feel every part of him, “It doesn’t matter- you're here now.” You say the phrase but then suddenly, you are overcome with a sickening feeling. What if you were just imagining this? What if you had simply dreamed of him? With a desperate glance, you press your hands into his harder, searching his eyes, “You are here aren’t you? Like- you're really here? You came back to me?”
Yoongi’s expression crumbles, his thumb brushing over your cheek, “I am, my love. I am here- this is the only place I know now.”
Sniffling again, you lean in towards his lips, your mind completely fuzzy with emotion, “Show me, show me you’re here.”
He takes the hint, closing the distance between you and, tucking his mouth into yours. It’s a much harder kiss than you’re expecting but, you relish in it nonetheless. Yoongi’s lips taste like medicine to you, all of your pain melting away beneath his touch. He sighs shakily as he presses your body into the cool steel of his armor, slightly wishing that he had been able to wash up before coming to see you.
It’s been a long journey.
“You’re here...” You whisper into the kiss, your hands tracing over his features, “You kept your promise...”
Yoongi is nodding, pecking at your lips over and over again, “I told you I would crawl didn’t I?” When you nod, he continues, “Well I crawled, darling. I crawled all the way back to you...”
You pull back slightly, unable to get enough of his face, your fingers coming up to brush the hair from his face. Elated, you laugh breathlessly, a smile burned onto your mouth.
“You will never have to crawl again, General Min. It is now my life-long mission to make sure you are in a warm bed with a full belly for the rest of your life.”
Yoongi beams at your sentiment, his eyes lighting up along with his grin whilst his hands slide down your body before settling on your hips, “I love you.”
There it is.
Those three little words that have been etched in your mind for longer than they should have been.
Gripping his face between your palms, you are bringing his mouth down towards you once again, “I love you too.”
After much more kissing, Yoongi mentions that he hasn’t eaten properly in quite a while and, that he has a few things to discuss with you before you can leave with him. You insist that he can use your family’s bathing area to wash up and, that you will pick up clothes for him in the plaza; the armor he’s wearing looks incredibly uncomfortable.
The two of you decide to visit the local tavern as it will be a good place for Yoongi to eat and, update you on what’s going on. He does specifically mention however, that he doesn’t want to speak of what he’s just been through. He only assures you that all six of his leaders survived and, that the Meddleways had been apprehended. He promises you that he will tell you stories from the mission later down the line but for now, he only wishes to speak about your future together.
However, there is one question that’s been nagging at you since he arrived that is slightly off-topic.
“Is Jungkook here?” You take your seat at the table across from him, slightly hating how far apart the two of you are.
Yoongi grins, a bit of fondness in his eyes, “He wouldn’t even wait for me to get out of the chariot before he was already sprinting like a mad man towards her home.”
You feel overjoyed at the thought of how your best friend’s day is going. The grief hit the two of the same way so, you hope she is feeling all of the happiness you felt when you realized the man you loved returned home.
“Are the four of us riding in the chariot together then? You might need to stay in town for a few days if that’s the case- I can throw all of my worldly possessions into a trunk but, Rachel would need more time to prepare.”
Yoongi reaches out for your hand then, smiling as you instinctively lace your fingers between his, “The chariot only has room for two, I’m afraid. My brother has decided to stay here for the time being. I think this final mission was especially hard on him, he’s expressed that he just wants to stay in one place for awhile.”
This resolution warms your heart. The idea of Rachel and, Jungkook making a quiet life for themselves in your home village, brings you so much joy. In many ways, it seems as though they had found a home in each other and, you couldn’t wait to see what their future held.
“I couldn’t imagine a more perfect scenario for the two of them. Although, I do know someday Rachel wishes to leave the village…I’m sure they will work out the details when the time is right.”
“My brother has already insisted that he will build her a house with his bare hands,” He chuckles, “so, at least she doesn’t have to worry about finding a carpenter.”
“What a gentleman.” You giggle before taking a sip of your drink.
Yoongi squeezes your hand gently, acknowledging your sentiment before eagerly moving back to what he wanted to discuss with you.
“My villa has been prepared for the two of us whenever we are ready. We have an entire battalion waiting to escort us there but, we will have to return to the capital after a few days.”
“Retirement ceremony?” You venture with a smile to which he chuckles and, shakes his head.
“I opted out of the theatrics actually. As much as I appreciate the sentiment, those ceremonies last far too long. I am just eager to start my life with you. However,” He sighs, wincing slightly, “my successor doesn’t seem to feel the same way. He wants his full induction ceremony which of course, I would have to attend...”
You cock your head, “Who is your successor?”
Yoongi smirks, “Seokjin-hyung.”
This doesn’t surprise you. Jin is the oldest member of the lead battalion and although Yoongi was technically their general, Jin never failed to assert himself as his right hand.
“I thought the seven of you were retiring this year. Did he re-enlist?”
Yoongi shakes his head, “No, he is taking on the position I turned down.”
You cock your head, brow furrowed with confusion, “Oh? What position is that?”
A rather arrogant look flashes in his eyes for just a moment until he seemingly reigns it in, attempting to keep his tone as casual as possible, “I was asked to serve on the royal council as an advisor to the Queens…”
Its impossible to hide the widening of your eyes causing Yoongi to chuckle at the expression on your face, “You must have made quite the impression, General Min. My father has always told me that positions on the royal council are passed down by blood…you really turned it down?”
Yoongi merely squeezes your hand, “I did. Do you think I was mistaken?”
You shake your head, “Oh, of course not. I mean- selfishly, it’s the outcome I would have hoped for but, I just want to ensure that you didn’t do this for me.”
A small grin comes over his lips whilst his thumb brushes over the backs of your knuckles, “Unfortunately, I can’t exactly guarantee that, ma’am. I don’t think any of my decisions are made without you in mind…” You open your mouth to protest and, Yoongi merely chuckles again, holding his finger up to signal that he isn’t finished, “However, even if I didn’t have you in mind- I still would have turned it down. As flattering as the offer was, I don’t wish to work in this field any longer. I’m grateful for my time and, honored that I was able to serve my land properly but-“ He stares into your eyes and, you can finally get a look at how exhausted he is, “I’m very tired. I’ve spent my entire youth with a sword on my hip and, I want to live simply now. If I’m being honest, I want to be detached from the rest of the world for a little while...”
You admire the man sitting across from you so much.
He’s only ever given to others, laying his life on the line over and over again, only to have his reputation constantly called into question. Staring at him now, you can’t even remember a time when he was nothing more than a rumor.
“I can’t even imagine the hardships you’ve endured. Your desire for peace is only natural after everything you’ve been through.” You place a kiss on the back of his hand, allowing your lips to linger there as he responds.
“What I desire is you.” He counters, his voice slightly raspier than before, “Peace will just allow me to indulge in you properly. I want no distractions... just as I told you before.”
Yoongi’s voice is laced with something that is wholly inappropriate for a public setting but, neither of you seem to care- instead you just stare at each other for a moment. You watch as his eyes travel over every inch of your face before slowly easing down your neck and, back up again.
The pain of missing him is one thing but, the lack of opportunity to bury into one another is physically painful.
You clear your throat and, send a smirk his way, letting him know that you understand what he’s getting at, “Did you offer the position to Seokjin? Or was he just next in line after you?”
Yoongi leaves his lust in the back of his head for now. He doesn’t want to rile himself up in the middle of the busy tavern.
“The Queens offered him the position when I turned it down. He was named my successor a few years ago when I fell ill so, he was already in a position to take over for me if necessary. Out of all of my men, he is the most capable but, also the most willing.” He chuckles, thinking fondly of his hyung, “He will do a far better job than I would anyhow. He is much more social and, outspoken. Plus, he will be living in the palace- I couldn’t imagine a better life for such a man.”
The warmth in Yoongi’s tone is palpable and, you can’t help but admire the way he talks about his men; its as though they are family to him.
“To Seokjin,” You smile, raising your glass.
Yoongi follows suit, clinking the rim of his goblet yours, his eyes brightening, “To Seokjin.”
As the two of you sip from your cups, Yoongi continues on with his explanation, “The journey to the villa will be brief. We will visit the palace for the ceremony in a few days and, then make our way back home again. From there, we are free to do whatever we wish.” The word home fills you with bliss. For the first time in months, it seems as though everything was falling into place. Now, the two of you could truly be together and, live out the rest of your days in peace.
“Free-“ You muse with a smile, “I quite like the sound of that.”
He smirks, “Of course you do. You have never failed to remind me that you don’t care much for the rules…”
Shrugging, you lean back in your chair and regard him for a moment before replying, “I don’t care for the rules that keep me away from you, General.”
His smirk never falters, “Consider them retired then, apothecary.”
The two of your resist the urge to maul one another in public and, decide to return to your home so that you can pack up your things and, Yoongi can bathe.
You try very hard not think of the fact that Yoongi’s naked body is on display in your back garden as you neatly fold your belongings away in your trunk. There are some things that you’re leaving behind so, that your parents can continue to sell your wares if they wanted to. Yoongi has arranged for them to receive part of his retirement so, they never have to worry about working again. It’s been discussed that the two of you will visit often and, you promised your parents you would write them every week.
Yoongi returns from his bath whilst you’re shoving the last of your clothing away. You can smell him immediately, the scent of your lavender soap wafting away from his skin as he walks toward you. He says nothing until his arms are wrapped around your waist, his chin coming to rest atop your shoulder, “I’ve never been in here before but, your room is very much like what I pictured.”
“Oh?” You lean against him, “I didn’t realize you would imagine what my room would look like.”
You feel him grin against your shoulder, “Well- I suppose I thought more about what we would do in your room…”
Biting your lip, you turn your head to the side to get a better look at him, “And what exactly would we do in here?”
You have half a mind to check to make sure Yoongi had closed the door to your bedroom but, when his hands start sliding up the front of your body, you no longer care.
“I would have love to take you in this bed…” A low chuckle comes from his throat as he starts kissing up the side of your neck, “Although, I wouldn’t be able to make you scream properly with your parents in the next room would I?”
His words send a jolt of electricity up your spine, your body growing weak beneath his touch. Through your nose, you emit a deep and unstable sigh before gripping his hands that are resting just under your breasts.
“You could have kept my mouth occupied somehow-“ You counter, feeling your attitude brewing beneath the surface of your patience.
At your comment, you feel Yoongi’s grip tighten on you as he moves his lips to your ear, “Excuse me?”
But all you do is smirk in return, regretfully pulling his hands from your body so you can continue packing.
“You’re excused.”
Yoongi is about to grab you again but, the knock on your door interrupts your flirting.
This seems to be a very irritating trend.
The two of you eventually part ways with your parents and, although you feel a bit of sadness, you’re overjoyed that they are able to live their life together in comfort. And because of Yoongi’s connections, you will be able to come visit them whenever you want.
The sexual tension between you and Yoongi has yet to fully fizzle out and, he reminds you of this as he grips your waist whilst the two of you walk towards Rachel’s home.
He has many things he’d like to say to you after that comment you made back in your bedroom but, the excited greetings from villagers prevent him from doing so. And all the while, you continue to grin, pleased that you’ve been able to pierce that carefully crafted demeanor of his.
You scamper away from him as you near Rachel’s front door, eager to see your friend after everything that has happened today. You’re anxious to see Jungkook too; Yoongi mentioned that this mission had been hard on him so, you’re hoping more so than anything that he isn’t injured too badly.
Yoongi lingers extremely close behind you as you knock on Rachel’s door, practically bouncing in your steps as you await for her to answer.
And boy does she…
Swinging open the front door, Rachel is still giggling at the man seemingly attached to her from behind. Her hair is absolutely destroyed and, her dress is buttoned up improperly as she addresses the two of you.
“Good evening, Y/N-“ She practically slurs, her eyes lit up with the type of insobriety that does not originate from alcohol. She bows her head towards Yoongi, “Good evening, General Min.”
Your lips are parted in delighted surprise as you survey the two bumbling humans before you. Jungkook is dressed only in his linen trousers, his black tendrils sticking in every direction atop his head and, from what you can see- his neck is littered with various reds and purples.
“Good evening to you- harlot…” You chide, trying to contain your laughter.
She shrieks, reaching out to smack your arm, just as she always does, joy painted all over her face, “Excuse you! I am a respectable woman of education.”
“Uh huh-“ You smirk, unconvinced before nodding towards the man behind her. He’s not even really paying attention to you, his eyes are just staring up at your friend like a lost puppy, his lips swollen from their previous activities, “Jungkook, it’s good to see you. Are you well?”
He merely smiles, only glances at you for a moment before his eyes rush back to Rachel, “Very well, thank you.”
Yoongi clears his throat, “Jungkook-ah,” He scolds, “Answer her properly…also, why are you answering the door if you aren’t decent.”
Jungkook seems to snap out of it, hiding behind Rachel in an effort to shield his body from your view, “My apologies. I’m feeling much better now, I’m glad to see you are looking healthy as well.” His tone shifts once again as he addresses Yoongi, his brown eyes lighting up with mischief, “I just wanted to see you off hyung and, uh- Rachel said this was decent in this village, I’m just adapting to the new lifestyle.”
Yoongi raises a brow, unconvinced but endeared nonetheless, “I am highly suspicious of that explanation…”
Jungkook giggles like a boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “You should be.” He winks at his hyung, giggling harder as Yoongi wrinkles his nose in disgust. He rests his chin back upon Rachel’s shoulder before speaking again, “Are you two heading to the villa then?”
You’re grinning now, admiring how relaxed Jungkook seems around her, “We are. I was hoping to hug my best friend goodbye before we made the journey…”
Jungkook gets the hint, his eyes widening a bit as he reluctantly moves his arms from her, “I will give you thirty seconds.”
This causes Rachel to laugh, waving him off playfully as she opens her arms to you, “Come here you…”
You throw your arms around her, smiling even as the tears sting the corners of your eyes, “I’m going to miss you… far more than I care to admit…”
She laughs again, patting your back gently, “Oh you know I’ll be around…” She assures you but, her voice is tightening with her own emotions, “…but please make the journey to me often…I fear how stale this village will become without you.”
You’re looking at Jungkook now as he grins softly, admiring the two of you and, send a look his way, “I’m sure this one will keep you properly entertained…”
Finally, the Jungkook you remember returns as he seems to shy away from your comment, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Rachel is staring at Yoongi too and, she musters up the courage to throw a pointed finger in his direction; she is still slightly intimidated by him after all.
“You’ll take care of her, won’t you? She is precious cargo, General Min.”
Yoongi tips his head toward her as he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart, “You have my word, ma’am.”
Rachel smiles, sniffling a bit as the two of you release each other, “Good.” You pull away from her, trying not to give in to your urge to cry as you both sort of giggle, exchanging a series of knowing glances with one another.
“I love you, my dear friend.” You squeeze her hands and, she returns the gesture, her eyes glossy while she slowly begins to release your hands.
“I love you.”
Jungkook is back on her then, his brow furrowed with concern at her saddened state. He says nothing, not wanting to ruin the moment between you two and, chooses to press a soft kiss to her shoulder instead.
Yoongi moves closer to you as well, winding his arm around your waist and, squeezing your hip reassuringly.
“Write to me?” Rachel asks, trying to mask the cracks in her voice.
You nod, blinking back the remainder of your tears, “Every week.”
Leaving Rachel is one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do but, it feels so much better knowing how happy she will be. Yoongi stays silent for the moment, gently escorting you down the street, waving at many of the civilians that bid the two of you farewell.
Roughly 10 minutes later, the two of you are huddled in the back of a massive wooden chariot, pulled along by four black horses and accompanied by a group of guards. The interior is lined with padded silk and, is easily the softest thing you’ve ever sat on in your life. After the two of you are settled inside, Yoongi mentions your departure with Rachel:
“You two have a special bond, I’m sorry that you won’t be living near her for the time being…” He feels guilty for the moment, wondering whether or not you were happy giving up so much for him, “You know, we can always come back. I could commission the architect to design us a home out here.”
You squeeze his hand, touched that he would suggest such a thing, “I appreciate your concern but, I promise you that I am beyond content with my decision.”
His lips curve slightly, feeling satisfied with your answer for the time being. He would be sure to check in with you often, the last thing he wants is for you to feel unfulfilled.
“I’m happy to hear that but, please don’t hesitate to let me know if you ever get tired of me.” He chuckles, squeezing your hand as the two of you approach the chariot.
“I promise you, you would know...” You assure him, nudging his leg with your foot. Yoongi grins and quick as ever, he grabs your ankle and, places it upon his lap. The sudden motion makes you jump, a bit of laughter coming from your lips. Silently but still grinning to himself, he gestures for your other foot with his hand until you get the hint to rest both of them in his lap. He looks down at them, something unreadable flashing through his eyes whilst his fingers brush over the tops of your ankles.
Its such a simple gesture and, yet it sends shivers across the surface of your skin. Yoongi continues to touch you, not saying a single word as he traces the faint shape of the veins beneath your flesh.  Resting your head against the silk lining of the chariot, you allow your eyes to close in order to enjoy his touch. As your lids fall shut, Yoongi grins softly, finally allowing himself to ogle at you the way he wants to.
And oh, can you feel his eyes on you. They burn into your skin despite the fact that you cannot see exactly where he is looking. Truthfully, it wouldn’t matter even if you did, his eyes were everywhere.
His fingers slowly venture up to slide along either of your shins but, he is careful not to reach your knees just yet. And it's here that you decide to set your curiosity free.
“When was the last time you had sex?”
You feel his motions stop for a split second as he processes your question, the silence of the chariot much louder than before.
“Not long before I first arrived at your village.”
The effort to hide your frown is in vain as Yoongi’s rickety laughter gives you the hint that he’s already spotted it.
“Does that upset you?”
You keep your eyes shut, trying to stifle your smile, “Immensely.”
And there is another beat of silence before the two of you are laughing together. Yoongi flattens his palms on your legs, rubbing them gently in an effort to soothe them.
“I suppose that’s reasonable.” He concedes, his tone thoroughly amused, “And you?”
Your teeth are on your bottom lip then, trying to stifle yet another smile, “Not long before you first arrived at my village.”
Yoongi is pinching the skin of your calf playfully as an affronted scoff leaves his lips, “I see what you mean now, that is a truly upsetting answer.”
At long last you open your eyes and, the two of you regard each other for only a moment before you’re laughing again. It feels quite juvenile to jest about something like this but to you, it’s merely a testament of your comfort around Yoongi.  
“I guess it sounds odd on my end though, doesn’t it? Since I’ve been so insistent on waiting with you...”
You shake your head, “I don’t think so. I never assumed you insisted on waiting because you were protecting a virtue of some kind. You are a 28-year-old man, it would be silly of me to think that you hadn’t taken a partner before.”
“Taking a partner sounds far too intimate...” He retorts, “...my reputation caused many people to throw themselves at me in attempt to satisfy some sort of fantasy. Occasionally, my physical needs made me privy to their advances. But, that’s all it ever amounted to.”
It does sadden you that people interacted with Yoongi in this way. If they had taken just a moment to get to know him, they would have discovered someone worth spending their time on. In your case, spending a life time with...
You’re adjusting your position so that you’re able to get closer to him. With your feet off of his lap, you move across the seat until you sitting right beside him. His arm immediately positions itself around your shoulders, hugging you against him whilst your fingers venture towards the free hand now resting in his lap. Silently, you run your fingers over his skin, not missing the way his breathing shifts as you do.
“I am exceptionally grateful that you allowed me to get to know you. I don’t think I could have been this happy with anyone else.”
Your voice is smaller than normal and, it makes Yoongi feel warm inside, his head cocking in such a way to signal that he wants you to look at him.
“The pleasure has been all mine, ma’am- I can assure you.”
He leans into to kiss you then, barely capturing your lips before he’s pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. In the small beat of silence, you choose to utter the words you’ll be saying every chance you get for the rest of your life,
“I love you.”
And with a brilliant smile and, a kiss to your nose, he is whispering, “I love you too.”
On the rest of the journey, Yoongi updates you on the status of the rest of his battalion:
Seokjin, as he mentioned earlier, is making arrangements to move into the royal palace as he will be taking the coveted position of the royal advisor to the Queens. Yoongi also explains that he will likely take a partner in the coming years and, that his family will be well-taken care of for generations to come.
Namjoon returned to his home village to reconnect with his beloved, Danielle. The two of them plan to move towards the ocean and, raise a family there. Yoongi explains that it will likely be awhile until he sees him again but, that you both can expect a wedding invitation in the next year or so.
As for Jimin and Taehyung- they will be following a similar path that you and Yoongi are. Their villa is positioned deep in the forest, even further from civilization than the one you’re headed to. The last thing Jimin said to Yoongi when they parted ways was that he plans on dropping by once every other month to catch up, emphasizing how much he would miss him.
Hoseok’s status was somewhat of a mystery and, Yoongi smirks with a sense of fascination as he explains where he might be. Years ago, Hoseok met a woman who matched his skill with a bow and arrow. She lived in a village not far from yours and, takes a rather firm position against any kind of authority. Hoseok took a liking to her attitude and, challenged her to a marksmen competition. She won. Naturally, Hoseok was both wounded and intrigued by this woman and, Yoongi suspects that they had been lovers for quite some time until his battalion eventually had to move on. Her name was Orion, just like the constellation and, Yoongi bets all the gold in his possession that Hoseok disappeared to look for her.
The ride to Yoongi’s villa comes to an end nearly half a day later and, you’re asleep on his lap when he gently shakes your shoulder.
“We’re here, darling.”
And here you most certainly were.
Beyond a massive wooden gate laid the most beautiful structure you had ever seen. The villa sits proudly in the middle of a massive stretch of emerald grass with an array of flowers blooming around the perimeter of the cherry oak that winds in intricate patterns up into strong pillars. The windows are tan and, made of a screen like material which is intended to keep pests out of the home. There is a pond just off to the side, which you are eager to explore later and, a balcony facing the right side of the forest. Yoongi had not exaggerated when he said that the villa was quite far from civilization for the backdrop of the scene before you were the mountains themselves, enormous and calm as they loom over the property.
Everything inside Yoongi’s villa was a brand of luxury you had never known: art, elaborate furniture, plumbing, and more space than you knew what to do with. Still however, it was uniquely Yoongi in that it was comforting.
It felt like home.
He explains some of the interior to you as he leads the way to his bedroom. He mentions that you can get comfortable and put your feet up while he checks the perimeter; something he says to expect every night.
Old habits die hard.
With a kiss, he opens the door for you and, promises he will return in shortly.
His bedroom, or our bedroom as he had called it, matched the rest of the villa. It was quaint but clearly displayed his immense wealth as he had an enormous bed in the center of the room covered in likely expensive linens. The windows were all shuttered for now, the only light coming from the lanterns hanging by the door and the entrance to the balcony.
Whilst Yoongi is checking the perimeter, you figure you only have a few minutes to prepare before he returns. Rushing over to your trunk, you settle beside it on your knees as you rifle through your belongings, looking for the one article you had been saving specifically for this evening. Tucked into the bottom, much neater than the rest of your items is a sapphire robe made from the finest silk your village offered. You had been working on it slowly every since Yoongi had left, preparing for the night when you two were finally alone.
You were buzzing with anticipation as you take off your clothes, neatly folding them and setting them aside. Then the cool silk is drawn over your body before you secure it with the tie just above your belly button.
With a deep breath drawn in through your nose, you pad over to the end of his bed and, take a seat upon the cream-colored linen. The rain begins marching prominently upon the outside of the villa bringing a cold breeze through the cracks in the shutters. The glow of the lanterns placed at the entrance of the chamber throw shadows onto the tile floor, entertaining you for only a moment until the creaking sound of the door grabs your attention.
Yoongi enters the room, not looking up as he relays the findings of his perimeter check, “Other than a few rabbits, the coast is clear and, I think after all my years of training I can handle-“ He is in the middle of this joke when he looks up at you, the rest of his sentence dying on his tongue. You see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, his eyes darkening as they trail over your figure.
It seems like forever before he says something, his body simply frozen by the door, unable to do much else aside from staring at you.
“I don’t remember you packing that…” He breathes, his tongue wetting his lips.
“That’s because I hid it from you intentionally.” A nervous but sly smile comes across your lips, your hands sliding over the tops of your thighs, smoothing down the robe for the millionth time, “Do you like it?”
He’s shaking his head, his lips kissing his teeth, as he steps just a little bit closer to you, “That’s really not the proper word to use…”
“Well-“ You swallow, standing up from your position on the bed, eyes searching for his, “You are free to use whatever words you’d like…”
“I’ve suddenly forgotten most of the words I know, unfortunately.” He counters, his eyes darting from you to the floor multiple times before finally focusing on your face. And he’s shaking his head all over again, a sort of desperate look in his eyes, “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?
The sincerity in his tone takes your breath away but, you do everything you can to hold his gaze, trying to beckon him toward you, “I want you to see all of me.” Your hands are moving towards the tie that’s concealing you from him but, when you’re about to undo it, his voice stops you.
“Wait-“ He pleads, hands lingering out in front of him, “May I?”
You try your best to swallow but, the sheer look of desire in his eyes is removing all moisture from your mouth. Nodding, you hold a hand out to him, your fingers wiggling to beckon him toward you.
He finally seems to thaw out his frozen posture, heeding the gesture of your hand and, closing the distance between you. Almost involuntarily, he leans down and places a soft kiss against your mouth. His lips are dry, almost sticking to yours as he pulls away.
He’s nervous.
You both are.
But at the same time, you feel so incredibly at ease. There is a sense of peace between you now and, even though you’re about to experience something incredibly intense, you are both finally free from the bonds of the outside world.
Now, it is only the two of you and, all the unresolved passion that needs tending to.
Yoongi leans his forehead against your own, his hands slowly moving towards the tie at the center of your robe. You can see that they are unstable, the breath that leaves his nose is proof of that but, he continues forth anyway until his fingers are beneath the bow.
“You’re sure?” He whispers, his breath hot on your lips, making you want to kiss him all over again.
Your hands come up then, cupping either side of his face as you pull away, eyes desperately searching his own, “Certain.”
With your confirmation, he pulls the tie forward, drawing the robe apart and revealing your bare body to him. You never allow your eyes to leave his face, wanting to capture every bit of his reaction.
When you come into view, his expression seems to collapse slightly, his lips immediately parting in awe. Doing the impossible, he tries to swallow again when you use your fingers to slide the robe the rest of the way off.
And without saying a single word, he drops to his knees right in front of you, his hands coming up to grip your hips. Looking up at you, he shakes his head in disbelief, entirely overwhelmed by your beauty.
“There isn’t a battle in the world that could have prepared me for you.”
His words knock the wind from your chest, your breath leaving your lips in an unstable burst when your hand comes out to touch his cheek. When you do, he smiles, with nothing but bliss present in his expression. He turns his face so that he can press his lips into your palm a few times before rubbing his mouth over the area. Your other hand comes into play then, brushing over the clips in his hair and then allowing your fingers to slide down the length of his ponytail.
Right before he speaks again, he drags his lips to your wrist and, nibbles at the skin there, his grin broadening when he hears the change in your breathing, “Will you take my hair down for me, darling?”
His request is nearing the likeness of a coo. It’s a tone you’ve never heard before but, you now know you’d do anything if he asked you with this voice.
You pull your hand from his face and, allow it to join your other one in gently removing the accessories in Yoongi's hair. They might add a level of luxury to his look but, you know for a fact you prefer him without them.
He is beautiful without any embellishments.
When you start on undoing the elaborate work in his hair, he rests his chin just beneath your belly button and, simply stares up at you. The intensity of his gaze actually makes your cheeks hot but, you do your best to continue taking down his hair, scratching at his scalp once you’re finished removing the clips.
His eyes close as you do, a low hum resonating in his throat at the sensation. Yoongi’s hands begin moving down the sides of your body whilst his lips pepper kisses all along your stomach. They’re wet and lacking urgency and, they send a wave of pleasure directly between your thighs.
“Your hair is so beautiful- you'll have to let me practice my skills on it one day...” You murmur with a smile, letting out a sigh as he takes a bite out of your hip.
“You may do whatever you wish with me...” Yoongi smirks, sponging his lips down towards the ache between your leg, “For however long you wish.”
“I wish to undress you-” You reply, coaxing his gaze up towards you, “and then maybe have a turn on my knees...”
At your comment, Yoongi takes another bite out of your hip, his eyes blazing with lust. And almost defiantly, he begins kissing towards the tuft of hair between your legs, his tongue licking and just barely tasting the skin above your core.
Your fingers are back in his hair when he buries his face in yours and, you hear him inhale deeply before exhaling with a groan.
“You smell so good…” He nearly whines, kissing over the mound of your pussy, “…wont you wait your turn? I want to taste you first.”
And it’s so unbelievably lewd isn’t it?
The two of you had only pecked each other’s lips and, your lover is still completely dress and yet, he is begging to bury his head between your legs.
“Before you’ve undressed?” You tease, trying to maintain some level of sanity but, the way he’s looking at you is making that an impossible feat.
He looks absolutely maddened.
His response comes in the form of his tongue, licking over the top of you whilst his hands grip the outside of your thighs to coax them apart.
“Do you want me to starve?” He accuses, a sense of darkness in his eyes. Before you’re able to answer, he licks up the length of your pussy, his fingers pressing into your flesh, “Hm?”
The lust that’s running through your body is peaking at dangerous levels from his touch but, the way he’s talking to you is sending you into frenzy.
You feel like you’re going to explode.
“No, of course n-“
He cuts you off then, his eyes nearly black with desire, “Then let me eat.”
Your head is on the pillows seconds later with Yoongi nudging your legs apart so that he can situate himself between them. The silk of his own robes tease across the surface of your sensitive skin with every movement of his body. He still seems to be taking in the rest of you with hungry eyes but, as soon as he uses his hands to part your legs, his gaze turns ravenous.
Bared before him, you can feel how wet you are when the cold air of the room hits the moisture between your lips. You’re positively drenched and, he hasn’t even touched you yet.
This fact doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi who is now smirking darkly betwixt your thighs. He says nothing as his index finger draws a line straight down the center of your pussy before curling towards himself as he follows it back up, collecting the evidence of your arousal.
Even in the dimly lit room, you can see the way you’ve drenched his finger but, he emphasizes the visual by rubbing his index against the tip of his thumb, only to pull them apart and display your arousal drawing a string between them.
Yoongi stares at you with slight quirk to his lips as he raises his fingers to his mouth. He makes a show of sucking each of his digits until his cheeks hollow out, his eyes closing at the taste of you.
Your cunt quivers at the sight of him, mouth parted in disbelief at how unbelievably good he looks.
When he pulls his lips from his fingers, he allows the smirk to form on his mouth once again before whispering, “Oh- I’m going to devour you.”
And then his head is buried between your thighs.
Yoongi’s tongue moves with contradiction, like lightening and mud all at once. He traces the tip of it around the circumference of your clit slowly but, sucks it into his mouth with fervor. In an effort to torture you with pleasure, he never does one movement for too long, knowing that this would draw you to your end far too quickly.
You can feel your breath leaving your lips at an unstable rate, your fingers searching for something to grasp onto. Yoongi has this covered of course, his hands reaching for yours before resting both of your intertwined digits on your hips.
His tongue continues to explore each fold of you. It’s as if he were collecting every ounce of moisture from your cunt before becoming determined to make you to make it all over again.
When Yoongi is satisfied with cleaning you up, he sets his sights on your clit, his tongue licking over the throbbing bundle of nerves three times before releasing his grip on of your hands and, placing one atop his head.
With an adoring glance, he slurs, “Use my mouth, darling. Show me how you like it…”
His gesture makes you let out a breath you had been unconsciously holding, your grip tightening in his hair at his request.
The sensation sends a shiver down his spine that he most certainly plans on addressing later. For now however, he is preoccupied with learning how you like to cum.
You tug his hair gently so his mouth his back over your clit and, slowly you move his head up and down. Ever the fast learner, he quickly picks up on the pattern you want and begins licking his tongue over the throbbing muscle.
The relief that comes with consistent pleasure finally pulls a moan from your lips, to which Yoongi immediately mirrors between your legs. You find yourself parting your legs further, your hips angling up to get closer to his mouth which only causes him to increase the pressure of his tongue.
The pleasure is mounting inside of your stomach like a hurricane and, for some buried reason, you bite your lip to attempt from crying out. Yoongi stops what he is doing and pulls his lips from you, which are completely soaked with your arousal.
His brows are drawn together in disappointment, his hair tickling your thighs as he shakes his head, “Oh please…let it out my love, no one can hear you but me.”
He pulls his tongue up the length of your clit slowly, his gaze nearly predatory as he reinforces his request, “Won’t you sing for me, darling?”
You nod, licking over your lips as you guide his mouth back to your cunt. He seems to work twice as hard now, flattening his tongue as he continues to rub it against your clit.
The muscles within your core are fluttering inside of you, your orgasm not far from reality. At Yoongi’s pleading you allow yourself to be more vocal, whimpering his name when he sucks at your clit.
He groans again at the sound of it, his fingers digging into your hips for the moment and then, suddenly pulling back. Eyes locking with yours, his wet lips get to work on lubricating his digits before positioning them at your entrance.
Yoongi licks his lips and, with a salacious look he says, “Deep breath…”
And try as you might, the feeling of his fingers curling up inside of you, yank the breath you attempt to take right from your throat.
“Ah-“ You preen, leaning up on your elbows to watch him fuck you with his fingers, “Oh Yoongi…yoongi…”
He grins up at you, securing his fingertips against the spongy tissue you inside of you whilst his other hand comes down to rub at your clit, “I shall ban anyone else from uttering my name, only you know how to say it correctly.”
With the increase in speed and pressure, you can feel something mounting inside of you that you’ve never felt before. You don’t quite know what it is, you just know that you’re going to make a mess.
Slightly panicky, your shaky hand reaches out for him, “These are clean linens…I feel like I’m going to soil them.”
The breathy and desperate nature of your tone goes straight to Yoongi’s throbbing erection but, instead of burying myself in you as he wants to, he merely increases the pace of his fingers.
“They will be much cleaner if you do, my love.” He assures you, his voice nearly cooing, “Just remember to say my name.”
His right hand is massaging against your clit at the perfect pace as his fingers curl up harder inside of you. The squelching sounds from your body would normally embarrass you under different circumstances but now, the pleasure is too overwhelming for you to care.
“Oh- oh Yoongi…yoongi…” You whine, your back arching off the bed as the dams inside of you break, your orgasm gushing out of your cunt in a way it never has. And although you can’t see him because your eyes are screwed shut, you feel Yoongi’s breath grow closer to your core until his mouth is back on your clit.
“Yoongi!” You whimper, toes curling into the sheets as he draws the pleasure from you.
He groans against you once again, his tongue repeating the same pattern you showed him earlier until you are shivering mess beneath him. Once he can sense you growing sensitive, he gets to work at slurping up every ounce of your release. His lips are sucking at your folds, your entrance, the inside of your thighs, nibbling and licking up every single thing you gave him.
With spotty vision, you anxiously reach down for him, suddenly despising the distance between you. He takes notice instantly, crawling up the length of your body and, placing kisses on every bit of you that he can.
Yoongi’s hair forms a platinum curtain around your head, which closes quickly when you grip the back of his neck to pull him down towards you. You meet each other’s lips with a type of hunger you now fear that you could never satisfy, tongues intertwining with desperation.
Ever so tenderly however, Yoongi his cupping your cheek and whispering sentiments to ease your overstimulated body.
“Shhh it’s ok, its ok my love.”
“You did so well.”
“You fed me so well.”
“I love you- I love you so much…”
With each phrase, he seals it with a kiss, the rest of his body settling between your legs and its then you are reminded that he is still clothed and, desperately hard.
“I love you too.” You whisper shakily against his lips, “I want to see you, I want to please you now…”
You’re practically begging, filled with disdain that his body is hidden from you, especially after you’ve just cum all over his face.
And he’s grinning against your lips, a rather sly look twinkling in his eyes, “And how do you plan on pleasing me?” He hums, kissing up the length of your nose.
“Well…” You begin, allowing a hand to travel down the black silk adorning his body before finding the solid length of his cock, leaning away from his hips. Smirking softly, you place your palm against him, relishing in the way he twitches up towards it, “You said you’d give me your soul didn’t you? I want it down my throat first.”
Your comment causes him to groan, hips pushing forward against your hand as he furrows his brow. Almost frantically, he stares down at you and shakes his head, “I know you think of me as a strong man but, I don’t think I could contain myself if you put your mouth on me- not with the taste of you still on my lips.”
Using your hand, you encase his length in the silk of his pants, squeezing gently as you move it up towards the tip of him. And you have his head hanging on his shoulders now, arms trembling beside your head whilst he tries to hold himself together.
“I don’t remember asking you to contain yourself. Those have always been barriers you designed.”
Yoongi looks up at you, eyes drawn in with a mix of pleasure and apprehension. When you squeeze him again, he shivers, a wanton groan leaving his lips. When he opens his eyes again, they look more nervous than when he stood before you at the end of the bed. In fact, it’s a look that you’ve never really seen before.
It compels your hand away from him slowly as your other one comes to cup his face, “What’s wrong?”
He breathes out a laugh, his mouth turned up at the corner, “Why is it that you can always find your way into my head and yet, I can never find my way into yours?”
You ignore his attempt to lighten the mood, your thumb brushing over the apple of his cheek, “Yoongi- what is it?”
The tone of your voice is gentle but, the look in your eyes compels Yoongi to bear his truth, no more how vulnerable he feels.
“My body is-” He sighs and restarts his sentence, leaning his face into your hand, “The last battle, it left me with many injuries. Most of them have healed but, I don’t want them to startled you.”
You sit up then, causing him to take a seat on the backs of his legs. Unable to help your saddened expression, you simply shake your head, “Yoongi, the only thing your body can be is beautiful. You have laid your life on the line for the people of this land, myself included. I could only ever love everything about the body that brought you home to me.”
With glassy eyes Yoongi is reaching out for you, placing a searing kiss upon your lips and, through it he murmurs “I have never let anyone undress me before…”
You kiss him once more and pull away a bit to lock eyes with him, “Do you trust me?”
And looking like a much younger man, his wide-eyed gaze full of innocence he nods, his hand coming up to brush against your cheek, “You’re the only one.”
His response accounts for several sentiments. His trust, his love, his dedication…
All meant for you.
“May I undress you then?”
His answer comes in the form of another kiss, lips attaching to yours with passion as his hands reach out for your fingers. He leads them to front of his robe, which covers the length of his tunic and his pants and urges you to remove it from him. Taking his lead, you push the material from his shoulders and, allow it to drop behind him before finding your way to the hem of his tunic.
The two of you find each other's eyes once again whilst you slowly draw the material up his torso. He follows your motions, lifting his arms above his head and placing them back by his sides when his tunic is removed.
The first thing you notice is his hair, flowing in prominent waves down his chest and, stopping just above his belly button. Then come his arms, strong and lanky all at once, much of their surface littered with the evidence of his missions. You can see what he meant and, you try to control your expression when you gaze upon the bruises and, cuts that have yet to heal.
You want to scold him for not acknowledging his injuries earlier so, that you could tend to them. But, you can clearly see that they have been taken care of by someone with much more skill.
His eyes are on you, searching for any sign of disapproval, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
He wish you could hear what you are thinking.
But just then, a soft smile comes over your lips as you carefully take his chin betwixt your fingers, “Just as I thought- you are molded from the gods, Min Yoongi. There has never been a man who contained more beauty.”
Your words hit his heart like a dagger, some of the air nearly forced out of his lungs. And he’s wanting to kiss you again, his lips desperately chasing yours before your hand comes to rest on his chest.
“Easy tiger…” You giggle, causing his lips to twitch into a smile, “I haven’t finished yet…”
He eases up, moving back into place with both of you still on your knees, facing one another. With tender hands, you move the tendrils of hair from his chest so that they flow freely down his back. His chest is fully exposed to you now, the swollen muscles beneath his pecks also displaying traces of the life he has lived.
Of the life he is finally able to leave behind.
Now, with just your fingertips, you trail your them across his clavicle, stopping for a moment at the ball of his shoulders before trailing them all the way to his wrists. A prominent shiver rattles through him, his hands twitching by his sides with the need to reach out and touch you.
But he doesn’t.
He stays perfectly still with only his eyes falling shut as you explore the surface of his skin. You take your time, dipping your fingers into the lines of his muscles, tracing the maze of veins beneath his skin, and smoothing your palms across the tops of his shoulders.
He’s properly turning to mush when you whisper, “Lay down…”
Like a man bewitched, he feels the urge to obey every command that comes from your lips and, commit every statement you make to memory.
He pushes his hair back, allowing it to settle on the pillows in various directions. And beneath you now, with his arms outstretched above his head, he looks like a king.
A sort of curve settles on his mouth when you position yourself between his thighs and, although he may look strong and confident beneath you, you can’t hear the way his heart is hammering in his chest.
Sex is familiar to Yoongi.
Intimacy however, is not.
Smoothing your palms down the muscles in his stomach, you use your fingers to hook under the band of his pants.
“You might need to help me with this part.” You smile and it only broadens as he chuckles, lifting his butt in the air and maneuvering his body so that he can help you pull the material down his legs.
Settling back into his position, Yoongi takes a deep breath whilst you take in the sight of him. He’s so hard. The skin of his dick, reddening towards the tip, the veins winding patterns up his shaft, the whole length of him begging to be touched.
“My, my- so the rumors are true…” You muse, slowly tickling your fingers up his inner thighs, which send his dick twitching in response.
His brow is furrowed however, wondering what you’re getting at and, you answer him before he ends up asking you.
“You do keep a viper on you at all times.”
And for the first time this evening, he is laughing. The full bellied and rickety sound leaves his lips as he wipes a hand over his face.
“You are incorrigible.”
His tone is disapproving but, his eyes are still filled to the brim with adoration. Because of course you would make this so easy for him.
Of course you would make love so easy.
All of his fears seem to mean nothing when he is with you, even when he is at his most vulnerable like he is now.
“And you, my dear Yoongi-“ Your tone lowers a bit as your brush your fingers over his balls, smirking when you see his chest puff out, “-are beautiful.”
With that, you lean down and lick slowly up the length of his cock, collecting the bit of precum that has collected on the tip. He tastes like the salt of the earth and, with that small bit of him- you now find yourself craving so much more.
His lips part, a sharp breath leaving the confines of his throat, his fingers quickly rushing to the sheets in anticipation. It’s been nearly half a year since he received any sort of pleasure from another person but, seeing as it’s now coming from the woman he loves, he is overwhelmed.
You are licking up the length of him again, your ass sticking up there for him to gaze upon as you slowly encircle his throbbing dick in your palm.
He is melting.
With his chest rising and falling unsteadily, Yoongi’s stare blazes right through you, when you suck him into your mouth.
“Oh fuck-“ He swears under his breath, the sound of that word coming from his lips sending an ache back to your core. You start him out slow, your cheeks hollowing out with the force of the suction you’re providing him.
His fingers toy helplessly with the linen beside him, the pleasure from your mouth numbing the tips of his toes.
With your free hand, you cup his balls, sighing through your nose at the almost desperate groan that leaves his mouth. He looks beautiful, his lips parted, stomach caved in at the pleasure he’s experiencing, his hands fisting in the sheets beside him.
“’sso good…” His brow is furrowed now, hips jolting a bit when you take him deeper towards your throat, “Be c- careful love, I don’t want to hurt you…”
But you don’t listen and, instead you continue your motions, your two fingers pressing behind his balls as you attempt to swallow his length.
“A-ah…” He throws his hand over his mouth, still slightly apprehensive at the sounds he wishes to make. You watch him as he breaths through the gaps in his fingers, eyes squeezing shut whilst you take him further down your throat.
He moans into his hand, his toes curling into the linen. And to address his attempt to conceal his sounds of pleasure, you simply walk your fingers across his trembling stomach and tap lightly.
Instinctually, he looks down at you- nearly cumming when you suck off of his length, your lips swollen and covered in saliva which you then spit back down on his dick.
Rubbing your lips against the sensitive underside of him, you coo, “We’re the only ones out here, my love. Let it out…”
He leans down, rubbing his thumb over your lips for the moment as he nods rapidly before allowing his head to hit the pillow again.
Chest heaving, he tries to prepare himself for your mouth all over again but, fails miserably. The pleasure is just so intense.
You waste no time in easing him back into your mouth, paying careful attention to relax your throat. He is confident, even in all of his years of sexual exploration, that he has never felt like this before.
He feels like he barely has a grip on his sanity and, when you take him down your throat- he has no choice but to whimper.
The sound only encourages you, your eyes unable to leave him as you watch his nipples harden, his stomach cave again, his eyes roll back…
“Fucking- fuck…fuck fuck…” He mutters through gritted teeth before his mouth parts again, “Please- don’t stop.”
Fucking him into your throat is no easy feat but, the sheer state of ecstasy he seems to be in, allows you to continue.
You rub at his hips, attempting to sooth him, your motions on his dick now becoming hands-free as his hips start pumping at their own pace. Despite the burn in your throat, you don’t ease up, wanting to see him overcome with the sensations, wanting to please him completely…
He shakes his head, eyes blown out and searching for an explanation as to why it feels so good but, he comes up empty.
Its just you.
Yoongi slams his head against the pillows, exposing his Adams apple when he swallows back the scream that wants to leave his chest. But when he feels his balls tighten and throb with his impending orgasm, he caresses your cheek.
“Please, my love- wait a moment…please…” He’s only pleading because it’s the only thing that can properly leave his mouth right now, for your motions on him have left him bewildered.
You’re careful to suck off of him cleanly, kissing the tip of his dick as you bat your eyes at him, “Are you alright?”
He’s smirking now, and a breathless laugh comes from his lips, “I think you’re well aware of how I’m doing.”
You giggle at his comment, kissing his dick again before resting your cheek upon his hip, “Then what is it?”
And with that same rather innocent, slightly humble look in his eye, he confesses, “I’ve always pictured being inside of you…the first time.”
In his earnest and rather proper way of explaining himself, you are simply taken over by your love for him.
He looks at you as if he is asking for the world but, little did he know- you would think nothing of giving him such a thing.
You’re kissing his hip now and starting a trail up his naked body. His hands come to life beside you and take their time caressing over your skin.
One last trail is place up the valley of his chest before your lips are hovering over his.
“Then be inside me.” You whisper into his mouth, sucking the bottom half of it into yours.
A deep growl resonates within his chest and, the next thing you know he is flipping you over, arms placed on either side of your head as he reconnects your lips.
Wildly, he kisses at you, allowing your tongues to intertwine in a somewhat disorganized fashion, neither of you concerned with rhythm at this point.
Yoongi is pulling away to take a look at you, silently reassuring himself that this beautiful creature below him, desires him too.
It’s slightly hard to wrap his brain around.
But as you raise your middle finger to the scar marring his right eye, you are breaking down the last of his concerns. He closes his lids beneath your touch, his chest tightening as you whisper,
“No more wounds, my love. I will make sure you feel only pleasure for the rest of your life.”
With a last and exasperated sigh, Yoongi guides himself inside of you in one quick motion.
“Oh-“ He breathes, his eyes widening as he chokes back a moan.
Your own moan is forced from your chest, Yoongi’s rhythm not giving you a chance to last very long.
He presses his forehead against yours, his mouth hanging open even as you kiss at it, hips quickening with each thrust inside of you.
“I love you.” You moan, whilst your hands come up to secure themselves behind his neck.
He is hurling towards his release so quickly, he fears the intensity of it, but the only thing he can tangibly focus on is confessing his love to you over and over.
“I will l-love you forever, it is a-all I will ever do for the rest of m-my life…”
Even as he stumbles over his words, his eyes never leave yours, pouring all of the emotion he feels into his movements.
He pours and he pours…
And you drink and you drink…
Until there is nothing left to do but surrender to one another.
The first rope of his release leaves his body with a jolt, his hips jerking forward and, immediately his eyes screw shut, his face burying into your neck.
You rub his back, kissing all along the side of his face as another hot spurt of cum leaves his cock.
“Oh Y/N…” He whines finally, sounding in pain and relieved all at once, “Y/N…Y/N…Y/N…”
He calls your name over and over and, somewhere along the edges of bliss, you tip over the edge too, digging your nails into his back as you do.
You seem to take turns saying the name of one another, the two of you riding out your highs for as long as possible until finally, your lover collapses on top of you.
In the stillness of the night, the only sound either of you allow is the rainfall atop the roof and, the whispering sound of your breathing.
For awhile, you just trace shapes into the skin of Yoongi’s back as his lips sponge into your neck and across your shoulder, or any part of you that he can reach. Moments later, his concern for his bodyweight upon you takes precedence and, he finally rolls over, the two of you wincing at the loss of contact.
You quickly take your place atop his chest as he leans over to the bedside table and, grabs the goblet of water waiting there. There was one on either side when you came in and, you assumed the staff had put them there.
Yoongi takes a deep breath and, attempts to steady his hand as he brings the goblet towards you but, to no avail.
His hand continues to shake.
Placing your hand around his, you try to assist him as a soft bout of laughter leaves your lips, “You’re trembling.”
And with waves of messy hair framing his beautiful face, he simply grins and corrects you, “I am in love.”
He raises the glass to your lips and, admires you when you take several big gulps, feeling good that he is able to take care of you.
His reply sends butterflies into your stomach, which seems like a rather impossible feat considering the fact that they had taken up a permanent residence there months ago.
When the Tiger moved into your life…
You usher the glass towards his lips with a soft smile, feeling so much happiness at the peace present in his eyes.
“As I’m I.” You whisper, rubbing your hand over his hip as he drinks the rest of the water in the goblet. There is also a sense of exhaustion in his gaze however and, you are met with the reminder that he probably hasn’t slept properly in months.
Your telepathy pays off once more as Yoongi addresses the heaviness upon his lids.
“I always pictured this to end with one of our elaborate existential conversations…” He chuckles softly, laying back on the pillow. Before he continues, he is reaching up to brush his thumb over your lips, “…but I do believe you’ve drained me of energy for now, my girl.”
A kiss is placed against his thumb, “Sleep now. We have plenty of time to question our existence.”
Yoongi chuckles again, using the hand that’s on your face to pull you closer to him. He kisses you one last time, ensuring that it reaches your soul before he’s puling you beneath the covers with him.
The last thing you remember before drifting off is another exchange of those three words.
The three words you would never grow tired of saying.
Yoongi sleeps well past sunrise. His chest rises steadily beneath your head for the better part of the morning and, although you want to wait it out, your desire to see the view from the balcony finally overtakes you.
You’re careful not to wake the sleeping man beneath you as you slip out of his grip. And as you’re pulling on the silk robe he had left discarded the night before, you take the time to admire him. Cheeks puffed out, lips pouted, brow smoothed over, none of his features containing a single ounce of worry…
You planned on keeping him this content for as long as you both shall live.
The mid-morning air was cold but, it felt nice upon your skin. Sleeping with Yoongi was new and, you now know that he emits as much body heat as a fully grown bear.
Or a Tiger…depending on who you ask…
This of course is wonderful, especially given how harsh winter can get but, you were growing quite warm beneath his arm.
The balcony was simple. It was painted the same color as the rest of the villa: a deep cherry red and, other than a few plants in the right corner, there was nothing else aside from the view.
Overlooking the grounds of the villa, the balcony displayed all of the elaborate architecture as well as the natural aspects of the grounds themselves. You set your eyes on the mountains to the left of you and, are overcome with excitement at the thought of them being covered in snow.
A hawk flies high above your head, his call echoing off every surface around of the villa, connecting the two of you for that single moment. As your eyes move to admire the thick expanse of trees before you, a pair of strong silk-covered arms wrap around your waist.
And normally, you would jump in surprise but, this time you don’t.
You could sense him staring at you for quite a while now but, rather than disturb him, you just let him have his moment.
Most of your moments would be spent staring at him if you had it your way.
“I had feared for a moment that I had only dreamt of you again…”
The tone of his morning voice is much deeper and covered in gravel, the sound sending a shiver through you. You lean back against him, lips curving up in a smile.
“We are finally alone, General Min.” You assure him softly, rubbing over his forearms. He kisses up your neck, causing your eyes to shut, just basking in the feeling of him.
Of the man you love.
“Well-“ And you can hear the grin in his voice, “Not completely alone.”
You open your eyes, confused by his response but as you try and look back at him, he is jerking his head towards the trees. At first you are confused by the amazed expression on his face but, when you see the mix of orange and black moving through the forest in the distance, you gasp in understanding.
“Is that?”
“A tiger?” He chuckles and when you look back once more, to confirm your suspicion, he winks at you, “It most certainly is.”
“Should we be worried?” You breathe, quite amazed yourself. The tiger doesn’t seem agitated from what you can tell, they merely move through the trees slowly- seemingly locked onto a destination.
“No, this one I have seen before.” He replies confidently, “They maintain their distance just fine…” Yoongi pauses for a moment and, then smiles to himself, “Unless of course, he falls in love…then we’ll never get him to leave.”
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oss-punishment · 3 years ago
Text
Chapter 1-”Ma” Survival: Intro; Scene 1
Original Sin Story: Punishment, pages 27-39
That day, Nyoze’s heart had been filled with melancholy at the monumental responsibility he had been given.
“Hah…”
Taking advantage of the fact that there was no one around him, he let out an unrestrained sigh.
Nyoze was waiting for visitors to arrive, alone in the great white reception hall.
It was about ten minutes until the arranged time.
As yet there didn’t seem to be any indication that anyone was coming.
Good grief, how did it come to this…
Nyoze could only feel that he’d had a burden foisted upon him.
Despite the face they put on to the public, the social statuses between the members who served on the senate were not necessarily equal. To the others, Nyoze was little more than an appendage of his older brother, the senate head.
And who is it who keeps blundering the “Project” in the first place?
With regards to the first project’s failure, that had been the responsibility of the elders of each family headed by Nyoze’s own father, and as a consequence of that they had all been overthrown. Nyoze couldn’t be faulted for anything that happened after that point.
He’d had hardly any participation in the project right up to its sixth iteration. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he couldn’t participate.
Gammon could likely see that Nyoze had little inclination nor confidence in himself as a senator. That was why his brother had deliberately kept him away from the “Project”.
To others this may have looked as though it were some sort of power struggle between siblings, but he was rather grateful to Gammon for it.
Nyoze had been doubtful of the “Project” from the very get-go. He didn’t understand how the others could have such blind acceptance of the prophecies of a “queen” they had never met themselves.
More important to Nyoze than such indefinite things was his own family. He believed with strong conviction that it was much more worthwhile to instead devote himself to showing affection towards his wife and newborn child.
His father had expressed disapproval towards his marrying a foreigner, but he wasn’t around anymore. Gammon had inherited the honor of the Loop Octopus clan for him. Nyoze should have been able to enjoy some degree of freedom, while doing the bare minimum of his basic tasks as a senator.
…But now here he was.
Out of the blue, Nyoze had been appointed as proxy agent for the man in charge of the seventh project iteration, Seth Twiright.
The reason for this being, as Gammon explained, Seth having become unable to show himself in public due to personal reasons.
Not even Nyoze, as his proxy agent, had directly met with Seth in person.
All of their exchanges had been conducted through letters. To Nyoze all of the scientific contents written therein were no more than an enumeration of meaningless jargon, but the specific orders they contained at least were always clear.
At any rate, today Nyoze was here under Seth’s direction to meet with a selection of four women.
Five more minutes until the arranged time.
The door opened, and a slender girl with twin blades tied at her hip entered the reception hall.
When she saw Nyoze there, she slowly knelt, and bowed her head.
From her bearing it was clear she had the good breeding characteristic of a distinguished family.
“It has been a long time, Senator Nyoze.”
“Ah, Ly Li. You’ve grown.”
Nyoze had last met her somewhere around seven years ago.
The innocent young girl that Ly had been then had now become a woman of attractive face and figure.
“You’re a little earlier than planned…The others haven’t arrived yet.”
“I don’t mind. Acting with decisive speed is a precept of the Li family, after all.”
“I see, well then please wait here for a little bit.”
Ly was the daughter of senator Irta Li.
Frankly, Irta and Nyoze didn’t have a good relationship with each other. One could even go so far as to call it stormy. It even went as far back their father’s generation…No, for ages now there had been history of their respective families always quarrelling about something or other.
Still, as a child Ly had no way of knowing about this relationship between their two families, and so Nyoze had always treated her warmly. He had also doted on her, getting the impression that she wasn’t loved much by her own father.
They had become estranged lately owing to Irta not thinking very highly of this connection between the two of them, but--
It was now the arranged time.
A beautiful woman who radiated sensuality slipped into the reception hall without a sound.
The scent of lavender began to fill the spacious room.
“Am I on time?” The beauty briefly inclined her head to Nyoze, passing Ly right on by. “Nice to meet you. I’m Milky Eights. And you are--?”
“Nyoze Loop Octopus. I will be supervising the project this time around, as proxy for the man in charge.”
“Proxy, huh…Hmph.”
A slight expression of disappointment crossed Milky’s face.
But she quickly returned to her smile, staring at Nyoze’s face with narrowed eyes.
“A senator of the Loop Octopus clan…It seems the rumors of you being a looker are true.” She gently caressed Nyoze’s jaw as though in invitation. “I wouldn’t mind servicing you, haha.”
Watching this display from behind her, Ly spat out in a mutter, “…Rotten whore.”
Milky didn’t miss that remark. “My my, what an awful thing to say.”
“I’m just stating a fact. Also, you smell.”
“Do you not like the scent of lavender, young mistress Li?”
“It’s alright. When it’s not overly strong like this. It seems the rumors that whores douse themselves in perfume to hide other smells is true after all.”
“…Aren’t you a vulgar woman.”
“Not as vulgar as you are.”
Nyoze could only hold his head as he watched the two women glowering at each other.
Hah…And here we’ve got this right at the start…
Though he wanted to just get on with things, the other two remaining still hadn’t arrived yet.
All he could do was wait through this threatening atmosphere.
--Five minutes after the arranged time.
A short girl raced into the reception hall.
“S-sorry I’m so late!” The girl gave a cringing bow towards the other three people already in the room. “Erm, um…I’m Irina!”
Nyoze replied warmly to her as she introduced herself, “Welcome, Irina Clockworker. You must have come here in a hurry, yes? You ought to take a moment to calm down a little and get your breathing settled.”
“Yes sir! …Huff, huff…I’m so sorry, I was helping my older brother with his work and I lost track of time—"
“It’s quite alright. You aren’t that late at all. …Well then, that just leaves one more—"
Irina restlessly looked around them. “Huh? I could have sworn…my sister-in-law came to the castle with me…”
“The castle is quite large. It’s possible she’s gotten lost somewhere. How about we wait here for her a little longer?”
Thanks to the intrusion of this somewhat boisterous girl, the turbulent mood between Ly and Milky had diffused somewhat.
And so…
Thirty minutes after the arranged time.
The remaining woman still hadn’t shown herself.
“Hey…This uh, ‘sister-in-law’ of yours is still a no-show?” Ly asked Irina, looking irritated.
“H-huh? …That’s strange? …Maybe we should go look for her?”
Nyoze was just pondering what was up with Irina, seeing her cower with her eyes shifting back and forth, when it happened.
“Sorry I’m laaaaaate!”
A cheerful yell rang out through the hall.
And then a red-faced woman with an unsteady gait walked inside.
“Big Sis Elluka!”
Irina raced over to the woman and moved to support her.
Milky started speaking to her, dumfounded, “Are you…drunk?”
“No waaaay, I did all the drinking last night. Seems like the…hic…alcohol hasn’t worn off yet.”
“Unbelievable…I thought you were supposed to be a Lighwatch shrine maiden.”
“Nnnooope. I got kicked outta the temple, so it’s former shrine maiden.”
“…Ah, I see.”
--Whatever the situation, this meant that the four of them had finally been assembled…
And apparently all four of them were going to be a handful.
Good lord…I’m not going to forget this, Gammon.
He couldn’t very well abandon the job that he’d been given.
Nyoze made a quick cough to maintain his sense of gravity.
“Now then…I would expect that everyone gathered here is aware of the basic situation, however—"
Ly stood before Nyoze as though to interrupt him as he started to speak out. “Senator Nyoze. I find myself confused.”
“About what?”
“Outside of me, these girls…I can’t imagine that any of them have the qualifications to become queen. A prostitute, a delinquent shrine maiden—or rather, former shrine maiden—and the daughter of a humble crafting family…Why in the world must I, someone hailing from a senate clan, be made to compete with people like them--?”
“Parentage and rank have nothing to do with it, Ly.”
Upon hearing that, Milky started to snicker. “It’s just as our esteemed senator says. In our Magic Kingdom the most crucial thing is the strength of your magic ability. All the more if you’re to become the queen ruling at the apex of it all.”
“Oh ho, so you’re saying you have an adequate amount of magical power for that?” Ly pressed Milky.
“Naturally…More than you, at least.”
“What?”
“I’m the one who’s confused here. Leaving these two aside,” Milky gave a quick glance at Irina and Elluka before rounding back on Ly, “Ly. You really don’t…look like you have particularly strong magical power.”
“Wha…”
“I have no way of knowing how you managed to pass the ‘Queen Test’…But you’d best keep in mind that your senate family’s influence isn’t going to do you much good from here on out.”
“You tramp…You dare to insult me?”
Ly drew a sword, pointing the tip at Milky’s face.
“Stop it, the both of you!” Nyoze roared in remonstration. “I will not allow any violence within this most sacred castle.”
“…I humbly beg your pardon.” Ly reluctantly sheathed her sword.
Once he was sure she’d settled down, Nyoze resumed talking.
“At any rate—it is undisputed fact that all four of you here cleared the ‘Queen Test’. In other words that means that all of you have the right to become successor to the queen.”
This was an unprecedent state of affairs.
Naturally, only one person could take the throne as queen. So it was beyond Nyoze’s understanding why the current queen had granted that capability to four different people.
There was no one raising any objections to this decision…Or, well, there might have been from the head of the senate, as the only person allowed to meet with the queen directly…But at present, now that Gammon had given his approval to having ‘four queen candidates’, the rest of the senate had no choice but to go along with it.
“However, as only one of you can become queen…The senate has decided that they need to carefully and definitively conduct a screening process.”
“…So then, what exactly is going to happen now?” Irina nervously asked Nyoze.
“For the four of you—starting today, you will come to live here in Alicegrad. Here you will receive more accurate measures of both your magical power and other qualities, and be scrutinized as to whether you have the disposition to act as queen.”
“Whaa!? You’re gonna put us on house arrest in the castle?  …Gimme a break,” Elluka cried out, voicing her frank dissatisfaction as she clutched her head.
“Are you sobering up some, Elluka Chirclatia?”
“Listening to this nonsense, sure.”
“Don’t worry. This doesn’t mean that you won’t be allowed to leave the castle, really. If you need to, you can even return to your homes temporarily. Only…you aren’t permitted to leave the country. Additionally—” Nyoze turned to Milky. “You…will need to quit your current employment. As one might expect, we can’t have you taking clients inside the castle. And we must make sure to safeguard your dignity as a candidate for future queen.”
“Oh my…But I can’t make a living if I’m not earning money.”
“All of your necessities will be provided for. I’m sure your standard of living will be higher than it has been, even.”
“Well well. If that’s the case, sounds like a decent gig.”
Milky appeared satisfied with that.
“Living here in the palace, huh…I wonder if my older brother will be alright without me and my step-sister around…”
As ever, Irina was gazing into space with a worried look in her eyes.
“And your brother is—” Nyoze glanced over the documents in his hands before once more looking up. “—Kiril Clockworker, a music-box maker, yes? It’s not like you’ll be here for very long. There’s no cause for you to worry, I should think.”
“B-but…my brother isn’t very good at doing laundry and cleaning up…”
“If necessary, we can dispatch a housekeeper over there.”
“…Well, he’s actually quite shy around strangers, my brother…”
Elluka clapped a hand on Irina’s shoulder. “Come now. Kiril’ll be fine. I mean, it’s not like we cant’t go home ever, right?”
“But—”
“You just don’t want to live apart from Kiril?”
“N-no, that’s not…”
“Hahaha.”
Elluka patted her step-sister on the head.
And then she turned to ask Nyoze, “We’ll be in separate rooms, right? So it’ll be okay if I still do some drinking?”
“You will each be furnished with your own bedchambers. You’re allowed alcohol, but please try to restrain yourself.”
“Roger.”
“There are servants waiting outside the reception hall. You should have them show you to your rooms.”
Obeying his words, Elluka went to quit the reception hall, Irina tagging along behind her. After giving Nyoze’s face one more glance, Milky too followed suit.
That left only Ly, who continued to glower at Nyoze, clearly still not on board.
“Don’t scowl so, Ly. I get how you’re feeling right now, but—"
“Senator Nyoze…do these girls really understand what’s going on here?”
“Know what?”
“That becoming queen…What that truly means—I’m asking if they know about Project ‘Ma’.”
“…I couldn’t say. It likely wasn’t explained to them explicitly, but…It wouldn’t be strange if Elluka at the very least had some inkling, considering her history.”
“What do you mean?”
“Her older sister Zellana took the ‘Queen Test’ in the past, and as a result…has passed away.”
“My word…I see.”
“Well, I’ll be investigating into the specifics later. That is the duty entrusted to me.”
“…Then I wait with anticipation…For the senate to make the right judgment.”
And then, giving a final bow, Ly also left.
Yes…I will have to do some digging.
Not just when it came to Elluka.
It applied to all of them.
When it came to magical ability, it wasn’t Nyoze’s place to involve himself with that. That was something the scientific organization under Seth’s jurisdiction would look into, and they would produce the accurate data for it.
The job that Nyoze needed to carry out was to make inquiries into each of their backgrounds.
All four of them had suspicious points, things that caught his attention.
Honestly…what a nuisance.
It wasn’t the ‘project’ that was causing Nyoze’s agitation.
Whether it would succeed, whether it would fail again…In the end that was nothing more than one of those matters that, as the phrase went, “Only God knows”.
What was more important was��the matter of the queen, someone who stood at the apex of the country.
And whether he would be able to keep even a single scrap of “malice” from intervening there.
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