#i think (hope) step by step guide makes the most sense and is easiest to read for everyone

[dailyfigures]

i'm an hour into writing a way too long step by step guide on how to spot bootlegs i better never see anyone falling for a bootleg again after i post this

[ka-za-ri]

Personal Assistant pt. 1

Hi. I’m in complete and utter Obey Me! Hell Enjoy some Lucifer x MC smut shamelessly put into a modern day CEO!Lucifer AU. Many parts to come. I’m completely covered in filth and thirst. Unbeta’d because we die like heroes here. Let me go back to being a gremlin now.

Paring: Lucifer x MC Wordcount: 5,000 ish Genre: Shameless, filthy smut Tags: Multiple Orgasms, sex on a desk, Finger fucking, overstimulation

Part 2: here Part 3: here Part 4: here Part 5: Here Part 6: Here Part 7: Here Also found on Ao3: Here

Lucifer has been sent to the human realm to study them and acclimate to and learn about their behaviors. By some miracle, you landed a job interview with his illustrious company as his personal assistant. A lot of extra work not listed on the job posting is required of you, to say the least.

Part 1: Interview

Adapting to the human world wasn’t hard. Humans were after all, predictable little things, easily swayed by their desires, it didn't take much effort at all to make them bend to his will. Lucifer’s time thus far ‘learning’ about the human realm had netted him a sizable company under his control. It wasn’t long before he became bored of that. Being a CEO of Akuzon meant many things. One being that he was always busy and needed some help around his office. Previous attempts at having a personal assistant failed him as they never satisfied his needs and kept up with the workload.

Somehow, you found yourself looking at the ad in the paper and hastily applying to the job It seemed too good to be true. It paid well, was for a reputable company, was close to home, and you fit the criteria listed. It was a shot in the dark, you knew there must be hundreds of others clamoring for the position as well. However, much to your surprise only a couple of weeks passed when you received an email requesting your presence for an interview.

The office building was massive, fitting right in with the many sky scrapers of the city. After putting on the best interview clothes you had and making your makeup was on point, you had thought you were ready for anything. Seeing the building and stepping inside it’s grand spaces had you faltering for a moment, a shiver of nervousness running down your spine. Almost everyone in the vicinity stopped what they were doing to see who it was at their front door. The nervousness increased as their gazes bored down into you, making you think you had gotten the wrong building.

“Are you here for an interview?” A young lady at the front desk asked cheerfully, noticing how lost you seemed.

“Ah! Yes! I am! For the position of Lucifer’s secretary.” You explained, relieved that there were some helpful people there.

The lady raised an eyebrow, surprised that someone so green would be chosen for such a high ranking position, but didn’t press the issue any further. Dialing a few numbers into the phone at her desk, she made a quick call. “Yes, she’s here… I’ll bring her right up.” She looked up at you, a sweet smile on her face and got up to guide you to the elevators on the other side of the floor. “He’ll be ready to see you once you get to his floor.”

“His floor?”

“Yes. His office is one of the top floors of the building. As his secretary, you’ll be responsible for taking care of it as well as any other duties he asks of you.” She explained. “You’re so lucky… I applied for that position ages ago, but couldn’t pass the interview phase. I hope you fare better than me.”

“I hope so too…” You agreed, hoping to hide the shaking in your voice.

The trip to the top floor seemed to stretch forever. The light music in the background did little to soothe your anxiety as you watched the numbers climb higher and higher until they stopped at 60 and the doors slid smoothly open after a soft chime.

“Well, this is where I leave you. He’s right beyond those doors.” The lady gave you a small reassuring push forward and before you could have any second thoughts, the doors closed and you were left alone, facing tall frosted glass doors. Taking one last stuttering breath, you took the steps forward to push open the doors. They were much heavier than expected and after a bit of a struggle, you finally managed to open it.

Before you sat the most impeccable man you had ever seen. The very image of power in a young and handsome man. The name plate placed at the very edge confirmed to you that he was indeed to be the man who was going to be conducting the interview. It was difficult to get your mind past how handsome he was. His perfectly parted hair framed his face and its long, delicate features. He wore a black fitted suit, one that probably cost more than any number you could imagine. Each stitch in its place to accentuate the lines of his body and to cut an imposing figure, even when seated. Everything about him oozed control and power. You had every right to be nervous.

He sat behind a massive desk; the only documents in front of him were what you expected to be your files. Most everything else, save for his nameplate, had been cleared off. If he had done this to intimidate you, he was doing an exceptionally good job without even saying a damn thing. “Come in. Have a seat. I’ve been expecting you.” He beckoned and gestured at the seat in front of him, his eyes raking up and down your figure, assessing everything about you. All the while, you were powerless to deny his request. His voice was soothing, low and lulled you into a strange sense of security.

Sinking into the seat in front of the desk, you sat just at the edge, reminding yourself to keep your posture proper and to keep your appearance as professional as possible. You needed to employ every trick in the book in order to succeed in the interview; and Lucifer knew that. His expression was unreadable as he waited for you to settle in, his hands idly flipping through your resume. “So, tell me, what do you think you can bring to this company working for me?”

Ah, there it was, the interview questions. You had prepared for this and the answer you rehearsed fell easily from your lips. “I have a lot of experience in working as an office manager. I understand that my duties may extend past what was listed in the job posting. However, I am willing to take in the extra hours and to work whatever job is given to me to ensure that your position and your reputation remains as impeccable as it has always been since the start. I will bring a new level of efficiency in your workflow and I will be a great asset to your company as such.”

He hummed, seeming uninterested in what you had to say. You began to sweat a bit at the back of your neck. Perhaps he had expected something more unique? Once again, he flipped through the pages of your resume, not really reading anything, just looking at the information you had put down. “I see… And how do you deal with pressure or stressful situations?”

Again, another question you had prepared for. “The easiest way to diffuse stressful stressful situations or overwhelming workloads is to make extensive lists. I like to break things down into their basic components so that large tasks are much more manageable in a timely manner.

He hums again, a vague sound of approval this time, nodding only slightly before making a mark on the papers in front of him. “Very good. Final question. How do you like to be managed?” His eyes flick up to you and there’s something in the way he gazes in your direction that makes your heart beat faster. There was something in the way his eyes trailed up and down your body that had you sitting up straighter than before.

“As long as I have clear direction, I will be able to work independently or as a team as needed.”

Much to your surprise, Lucifer smiles at the answer, circling something on the paper before getting up and sauntering over to you. “That’s very good to hear.” he said quietly, turning to look out the floor to ceiling windows to the cityscape his office overlooked. “There will be a lot of times where I can be demanding and ask you to stay later than usual hours. Will your priority still be this job if I ask this of you?”

You swallowed, not sure how you felt about the question, his tone had an undercurrent of electric energy that had you heating up and shivering at the same time. “Y-yes.” You stated after a brief pause, entranced by the curve of his spine and how well his pants fit his ass. “I can do that. I plan on making this position more than a job. I am looking for a career here.”

Lucifer nodded again, still not making any eye contact with you, which gave you plenty more time to ogle at how his posture and his stance against the window struck such a formal and imposing figure. At this point, he could tell you to work three twenty hour shifts in a row and you wouldn’t complain. The prospect of a hot boss, great pay and a job that was close to home was too tempting to you.

“If you accept this position, you will be placed on a probation period, as is customary for this company.” He explained and your heart started to beat faster. Did this mean you landed the job? You couldn’t tell if he was psyching you up for potential disappointment or if he was genuinely starting to offer you the job. “Once I’ve gone over your performance during your probationary period, your salary will increase. Additional raises and bonuses will be offered as I see fit for… exceptional work.” You couldn’t see it, but rather, you felt him smirking at his reflection in his reflection. “Does that sound acceptable to you?”

“Yes…” You breathed, mouth watering at the aspect of being able to make so much money. It was more than any other job you worked for paid.

Humans were such easy little playthings to control.

Lucifer walked back to you, standing in front of his desk and leaning against the heavy wood. “Your job will be of course to do what I request, many times without question. There will be many sensitive documents that you will handle and that requires your utmost confidentiality.”

“I understand.” You said bluntly, trying to calm your heart and your breathing to no avail.

“You understand that this position also may also involve some after hours activities which I will ask for you to partake in. They are not written on the job description, but they are paramount to this position. Don’t worry… I’ll be sure you receive clear and concise directions on exactly what to do as my personal assistant.”

You blinked. The way he worded the phrase seemed off, but you couldn’t put your finger on what. It was odd, he had always referred to the job as ‘this position’ until just now. It was the first time the actual job title until he tugged at the cuffs of his suit, undoing the buttons. “Oh…” You breathed, eyes wide, cheeks blushing brightly when you realized what he meant, the bulge in his pants was all the proof you needed for there to be absolutely no miscommunication. From the looks of it, you could only surmise that he was barely half mast in that state. Fuck, what kind of monster is he hiding in there?

“Before we sign the papers and you accept the job, I would like to do a test run to make sure you’re a good fit for the company.”

“Yes… of course.” You were practically panting, eyes blown wide and cheeks flushed. You pressed your legs together trying to hide the arousal that started pooling there after the realization that you would be servicing your future boss in rather intimate ways. That fact alone had you ready to sign whatever contract he produced in a heartbeat.

“We’ll begin by seeing how good you are at following directions. Stand up, please.” He flicked his fingers upward, eyes traveling up and down your body, knowing exactly the kind of reaction he was pulling out of you.

You were upon your feet in an instant, hands at your side, back straight as a board and your legs together. You barely dared to breathe as he left his spot on his desk to circle you. You could feel his gaze taking in every detail. He was close enough for you to smell the cologne he wore waft past you as he passed your side and you suppressed a shiver.

“What kind of posture is this?” He chided, pressing the spot between your shoulder blades gently, pushing your shoulders back. “Just because you’re standing up straight does not mean you’re doing it properly.” Lucifer tsked, shaking his head slightly. “How do you expect to represent me and this company if you look like a cardboard cut out.” His hands left a trail of goosebumps across your skin as he adjusted your body as he saw fit. Your hands folded neatly in front of you, your legs now just shoulder width apart and your shoulders back, he took another circle around you to reassess your stance. “Much better.” He murmured. “It will do you well to remember how this feels. I won’t be so lenient if I see you looking so foolishly in front of a client.”

You nodded, memorizing just how he had posed your body, reminding yourself to practice in the mirror. You didn’t dare speak unless he gave you permission to, just something about how he stalked around you made it impossible to raise any objections.

“Stay still unless I say otherwise.” Lucifer commanded next. “It’s important that you are at attention no matter what the circumstances. When I ask for your… special services, you will refer to me as Sir.” His finger traced the hem of your pencil skirt, pulling it up just a bit and you fought back the urge to flinch. “But of course, I should say that right now, you have the power to stop this at any time. Understood?”

“Yes…”

“Yes who?” Lucifer’s tone was sharp and the hand playing at the hem of your skirt moved to place a firm spank on your ass. The pain coursing down your leg, you jumped a bit, but remembered his command to stay still.

“Yes… Sir…”

“Good.” He nearly purred, leaning in to kiss the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your skin and his hand once again traveled to the hem of your skirt, playing with the fabric and pulling it up until he got a good view of the lacy lucky panties you decided to wear that day. “Very good.” he praises, tracing his fingers across the flimsy fabric. Your breath hitches as he brushes light touches across your bare skin. You stay still, demanding that your body stop trembling, though Lucifer can clearly tell just how nervous you are, shaking like a little lamb at his behest. In a show of dominance, he lets your skirt fall back down, cupping your face to pull you into a heated kiss.

Your mind is practically blank at this point, hands still clasped in front of you, gripping each other like your life depended on it while he claimed your lips and took your breath away. At some point you had reciprocated, kissing him back and earning a low growl from the back of his throat as a reward. He pulled away, your lipstick smeared across his face and his eyes glittering in lust as he looked at your disheveled form in perfect posture. “Hmm… yes… I think you’ll fit right into my needs.” He appraised, rubbing his chin and smirking. The expression sends a shiver down your spine but you didn’t dare move.

His hand guides you two steps forward towards his desk. “Bend over.” He commands and you oblige, your chest laying on the surface of the mahogany desk. Your hips flush against the edge of it while your hands stretched out to grasp at what it could to stay still as he asked. He readjusts you again, spreading your legs further, straining the fabric of your skirt. With a tsk of frustration, he pulled the offending piece of clothing up to your waist, letting the cool AC hit the back of your thighs and allowing him to spread your legs even further. In your heels, you could feel your calves tremble as you struggled to keep the position he had set for you. Thankful for the desk to cling onto, you used it to ground yourself as your ass is exposed to him. Your legs spread to the point where you were bent sharply, completely level with the desk and your hot core could feel the air conditioning blow past your heated nether lips. “You look good spread across my desk like this. I’ll be sure to make use of this position often.” He commented, rubbing your ass gently, teasing you through the fabric of your panties. His fingers brush across the wet spot on your panties and you can feel the it mold against your wet heat. Embarrassed, you stifled the whine that formed at the back of your throat. Even if the two of you were on a separate floor from others, you didn’t know if there were others right outside those heavy glass doors.

His teasing seemed to last forever and you could just see how much he was enjoying it whenever you dared to glance up and see your lewd reflection in the mirror with that salacious grin on his face as he fingered you oh so gently and left you on the edge of wanting more. Every time you glanced up even briefly, he always made sure to make eye contact with you in the reflection, knowing just how much you were affected by his basic touches.

Of course, he wasn’t getting out of the exchange with nothing. The slight bulge in his pants earlier had strained into an impressive tent seeing his new assistant splayed out before him, eager to please. Humans were such predictable creatures. Predictable, yet so much fun to toy with. He couldn’t get enough of the soft sighs that came from your lips as you held back your noises. It only made him want to see break for him even more. His slender, manicured fingers finally gave you a little relief, pressing against the wet spot in your panties and following the curves of your pussy lips that had molded themselves there due to your slick. At that, your hips bucked back, urging him to give him more but a firm hand on your lower back stopped any further movements. “I did not say you could move.”

You whined, clutching onto the edge of the desk, your fingers sore and locking up from how hard you were holding on. You weren’t sure how you were going to handle this sort of treatment on the regular when the trial run was already driving you mad with need. As if he could sense your impatience, he finally pulled down your panties, allowing your legs a brief reprieve as he took them off and tossed them to the side before making you resume the position you had held for who knew how long.

“For a trial run, you’re doing very well.” He cooed, smirking as he saw your glistening folds. “I should remind you that there are people still working in the building. We may have a floor to ourselves, but please keep that in mind and don’t scream too loudly now.” He chuckled darkly, tracing the curve of your ass and finally sinking a finger into your heat. Just the feeling of being penetrated by something had you keening and you struggled to keep yourself from screaming. “Ooh, that’s a pretty noise you make… Please make more of those.” he encouraged, slowly sliding his finger in and out of you.

“Y-yes sir.” You panted, your legs ached, but the pain was absolutely nothing compared to the pleasure that was building up in your abdomen just from feeling a finger slowly fuck you. You had come in for an interview and your soon to be boss was unraveling you in ways you had only fantasized about. All the while, Lucifer remained the very image of composure, if it weren’t for his very obvious hard on being pressed against the back of your thigh, you would have thought he was impervious to the scene he had orchestrated. Every time his finger dragged itself out of you, you let out an appreciative mewl, mind reeling as he pressed every button he needed for you to submit completely to him.

You lost track of time and how many times he left you wanting more with how his finger moved in and out of you. At some point, he had added a second, then a third, deliciously stretching you out. You were so wet and ready for him, you could feel your essence drip down your thighs as your legs struggled to keep you upright. Lucifer was patient, he had lived several millennia already, edging you until you were a begging mess on top of his desk for a few hours was absolutely nothing to him.

In a show of surprising restaurant, he pressed hot kisses against the back of your neck, nipping at your skin whenever you let out a particularly breathy sigh. The scent of sex and his cologne enveloped you and you were practically dizzy with need. “Sir…” You whined after he had curled his fingers in you, making you see stars and your walls trembled, clenching around his fingers. “Please… I need more…”

“Oh?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and removing his fingers, much to your dismay. He watched in amusement as your pussy twitched, clenching around air now that his fingers were no longer filling you. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he was surprised how long you had held out before you were begging for him. His erection had pressed against his impeccably tailored pants for so long, it was almost painful, yet, he couldn’t let you have your way just yet. Even if it was a trial, he still wanted to see just how far he could push you. “You think you really deserve more? You haven’t even gotten this job yet.”

His fingers were back on your wet, sopping cunt, sliding up and down your labia, rubbing slow, firm circles around your clit. You wailed, bucking your hips and forgetting the command to stay still until his other hand reminded you by spanking your ass cheek. “No moving.” He growled and you struggled to obey, stilling your body even though every part of you screamed to squirm and beg for him. “You will get more when I decide you get more.”

You could only nod in reply, letting him use your body as he saw fit. “For your next test. You will cum when I tell you to.” he breathed, pressing his finger against your clit, making you choke back a sob of pleasure. “After that, I promise you, you’ll be at the last part of the interview.”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll do what you want, Sir. Whatever you say, Sir.” You babbled mindlessly, your body aching for relief and release. The torture and pleasure he could pull out of you with just his fingers had your mind jumping to the future to what other things he could elicit out of you.

“Good girl.” He praised, patting your hair in a surprisingly soft gesture. He followed the gentleness with a chaste kiss on your lips before going right back to being the commanding figure you had met him as. He plunged his fingers into you again, knuckle deep and pumping in and out of you furiously, loving the way your walls fluttered and clenched as you held off on your orgasm until he permitted it. “You are so obedient… just what I like.” He praised breathlessly, working you closer and closer to the point of no return.

You couldn’t think straight, you didn’t care if others heard the lewd sounds coming from your lips as you whined, begging for release. You were so close, you wanted to cum so badly, but your determination to pass his test outweighed your desire and you held out until his silky voice whispered the blissful word into your ear. “Cum…” He purred and you gratefully crumbled, your body spasming around his fingers, milking it like it was his cock. Soft whines escaped your lips and tears of gratitude streaked down your face.

“Thank you, Sir.” You panted, blissed out and feeling weightless after such a powerful orgasm. Your vision blurred as you stared blankly at the wall, wondering if this was the end of the interview. Lucifer’s fingers leaving your sore pussy sure seemed to signal that things had reached a conclusion. Glancing up at the reflection in the windows, you flushed bright red when you saw Lucifer lewdly cleaning his fingers off with his tongue.

“Hmm… I think you would do well.” He said once his fingers no longer shone with your essence. He sauntered over to the other side of the desk where you clung onto for dear life. Sinking into his chair, he casually opened up one of the drawers, pulling out a contract and placing it in front of you. “If you believe you can keep up with my demands, then all you have to do is sign on the dotted line at the bottom. He slid you an ornate fountain pen into your hand.

Your trembling digits could barely hold onto the pen and you moved to start reading the contract, going over the terms and conditions of your new position. Most of it was the basic business jargon seen in every typical job. There were a few things that seemed out of place, but in your just fucked state of mind, it was very difficult to focus on what about them seemed wrong. Unable to really think straight about what you were getting yourself into, you placed the pen onto the paper, eager to start your new job.

Just as you the pen started to move, you heard the sound of a zipper being undone and the hard erection you had felt earlier on the back of your thigh now pressed up against your sore pussy. You gasped, eyes going wide at the feeling of being stretched out once again. “Well? Will you sign?” He asked casually, sinking into you inch by inch as you struggled to breath and think, let alone sign a contract.

“Yes… Yes, Sir…” you whined, starting to shakily write your name as he bottomed out inside of you. He hissed, taking a hold of your hips and roughly slamming them back into him to get as much contact as he could. You yelped, unable to write your name at all. Your hips banged against the edge of the desk with every one of his rough thrusts. No doubt, there would be dark bruises there the next day reminding you exactly what you did to get the job you were signing for now.

With each pass, Lucifer lets a little more of himself go, grunting in effort as he relished in the feeling of your hot walls surrounding him. He hadn’t found such an obedient human in a long time. It would be such a fun time for him to push your limits every day you were in his office. What he offered now was only a glimpse of what he had planned for you. Every time your hand stuttered in the middle of signing your name, his grin widened. The closer you were to sealing the contract with him, the closer he was to his own release that he had been holding back for hours now.

“Just a little more…” he urged, slowing down his thrusts so you had at least some time to get a few more letters of your name out. Just as you finished, he let out a primal growl, slamming his hips into yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the room as he fucked you without abandon. The fountain pen fell from your fingers and you were back to clutching onto the edge of the desk as yet another explosive orgasm started to build in you.

Glancing up into the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of what Lucifer looked like while he was coming undone inside of you, you were surprised at the image you saw. It was only for a brief moment, but you swore you saw horns on him, and dark, feathery wings framing his body. The sound of the pen you dropped falling to the floor broke the illusion and the image of the prim and proper business man with an utterly feral look was all you saw.

He knew he wouldn’t last long once he entered you and so, he chased his release inside of you. As soon as the contract was signed, he was done for. His hand snaked around your abused waist to reach for your clit, bringing you to climax in time with his own. With a grateful groan, he released all the pent up tension in him, spilling his hot seed deep inside of you while your walls spasmed around him, milking every inch of him and accepting what he had given you. “Very good…” he cooed, his eyelids fluttering as he relished in the rush that came after such an explosive climax.

You whined, your body bruised and beaten, but also feeling absolutely boneless and euphoric. You hadn’t experienced anything like that before and it was all rather mindblowing to say the least. The contract in front of you with your shaky signature, ink blots from when you lost control of the pen and a fair amount of your tears stared back at you. This was your future. This would be a regular part of your life going forward; and you didn’t feel a shred of regret from it. You zoned out for a moment, hardly believing that it was all real.

Lucifer’s cock slipping out of you and the feeling of his cum dripping out of you snapped you back to reality. “Very good job. I’ll say you passed all the tests with flying colors.” He said, fixing his suit and continuing on as if he hadn’t just fucked the living daylights out of you. “I expect you to come in on Monday ready to work. I have a lot of filing for you to catch up with.”

He smirked, taking the signed contract and slipping it back into his desk. He cupped your chin in his hand and planted soft kisses on your lips, once again leaving you dizzy and breathless. “You are free to move now.” He said and you gratefully worked on closing your sore legs, wondering how you were going to make it out the office in the state that you were in. You weren’t sure you were able to walk, let alone get all the way home with how weak you were. Lucifer chuckled, dialing a few numbers into his cellphone. “I’ll arrange for a ride home for you.” He offered. “As a thank you for such a lovely interview.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, knowing you had a way to get back without catching too many unwanted stares at your disheveled state. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Lucifer.” He corrected briskly.

“Thank you, Lucifer. I’ll be sure to arrive on time Monday.” You sank into the chair to gather your wits about you, staring at your trembling hands.

“Good.” He said coolly and looking up at him, you gasped when you saw him casually twirling your panties on one finger as he looked down at you. “Your ride should be here shortly, please make sure you’re presentable, you do not want to dishonor me.”

“Yes. Of course, Lucifer.” you hastily combed your hand through your hair, hoping to take care of the worst of the flyaways. You glanced nervously at the panties in his hand, figuring they were a lost cause at this point and simply accepted the fact that you’d be taking this arranged ride with your boss’ cum dripping down your thigh. Carefully standing up, you remembered to assume the proper posture he had shown you earlier and he smiled in approval.

“Very good.” He gestured to the heavy glass doors, opening them as if with magic with a press of a button. “I’ll see you Monday.”

“Yes,Lucifer.” You replied obediently, taking the first shaky steps out.

“Oh, and one more thing.” he called out to your retreating form. You turned, blinking and wondering what else he could want from you. “Wear the same lipstick, will you? I’d love to see what that color looks like smeared all over my cock.”

“Yes, of course. As you wish.” You replied, blushing a deep red and rushing out of the office now, high off of getting the coveted position of Lucifer’s personal assistant and the prospect of what else he could ask you to do for him.

Watching you slip into the elevator, Lucifer smiled to himself. He reached into his desk and pulled out the contract, skimming the terms and conditions you had agreed to.

Humans were terribly predictable. Yet, they were also infinitely entertaining.

[smelted-applejuice]

Peace Treaty, 01

(IMPORTANT) this fanfic was made before Fundy and KSI made their disgusting jokes, but I said it on my Quotev account; I want to go on with this book because I’ve had this planned for weeks, Fundy in this book is NOT AT ALL streamer Fundy but Dream SMP Fundy. I won’t write for him after this fanfic is over. Pairing(s): Fundy x Reader, Sapnap x Reader Pronouns: she/her TW: Fainting Pre-picked: LAST NAME, FATHER'S NAME Pervious part , Next part

[YourName] and Fundy didn’t return home that night, prompting to spend the night in a local inn. [YourName]’s engagement had put a damper on the news she and Fundy wanted to share, so that night they laid in bed and held each other close. They snacked on carrots and berries for dinner, drank warm hot chocolate near the fire, and cuddled each other tightly. Who knew what tomorrow housed, what anyone should be expecting. The couple slept as peacefully as they could within the comfortable bed. [YourName] shot up in her sleep, her chest heaved, she had hoped now that she was awake- she would be back at her house and that whole night never happened. But she glanced around, the unfamiliar place reminding her of her reality. She laid back down, Fundy making soft squeaking noises in his sleep as he buried his chin into [YourName]’s hair. He was out like a light, and [YourName] wished she could do that too. She would drift off to sleep, the smell of Fundy easing her into a warm sleep. Fundy and her both woke up a few hours later, the sun had just risen and it was time for them to get their day on. If they didn’t make a move on now, they both knew their fathers would’ve sent out their men to find them. It seemed like this inn was family-owned and this place being stormed is the last thing the two would want. After checking out, they held hands as they moped all the way down to [YourName]’s house where Fundy departed after giving her his possible final passionate kiss. [YourName] stood there for a moment, dreading as she entered the house. Luckily, it was cleaned, nothing was tossed. “You’re here! Good! I was getting worried, head up and get ready, we’re meeting Sapnap and Dream outside the walls in about two hours.” Gregory said, fixing the cuffs of his shirt sleeves. Not even a minute into returning home after running away, and she’s being forced to meet her future husband. She didn’t feel like arguing, so she quietly made her way upstairs and decided to shower and prep for the day. Despite the meeting purposes not being exactly what [YourName] wanted, she still decided to dress nicely. She buttoned up her white top before tucking it into her black skirt, which she had zipped up against her body moments prior. After she placed her shoes on and focused on taming her hair. She brushed out her (HairColor) locks before doing a neat half-up-half-down look. She placed a clip, she admired herself in the mirror and felt sick. Just last night she and Fundy planned to tell their fathers about their relationship, and now she was preparing to meet her future husband that she had no choice but to be with. She wanted to throw everything off the table and cry, but it would be a mess she’d need to clean so she stuck to crying. After letting it out, she cleaned herself up with warm water and light makeup. [YourName] and her father walked through L’manberg, meeting up with Dream and Sapnap outside the walls. While Dream and Gregory did most of the talking, [YourName] stuck to avoiding eye contact with anyone. “[YourName], come here.” Gregory said guiding his daughter into the conversation, “Sapnap has a gift for you,” Gregory whispered into his daughter’s ear while holding her shoulders. [YourName] softly smiled toward Dream and Sapnap, “Thank you, but independence for my home is enough.” she said trying to turn down the gift in the easiest way possible. Gregory squeezed her shoulders, a silent ‘be quiet please’. “I insist..” Sapnap said, taking out a box from his bag. He opened it to reveal a dark grey gemstone choker necklace with other light-colored crystals to make it more friendly. “O-Oh..” [YourName] said blushing slightly, Dream and Gregory stepped aside letting Sapnap place the necklace around [YourName]’s neck. The necklace was cold against [YourName]’s warm skin, she nodded “Thank you..” she mumbled toward Sapnap and also nodded in return. Dream and Gregory talked with Sapnap for a bit more, [YourName] fiddling with the dangly crystals as she listened in to the conversation now and then. All around, she kept to herself and didn’t speak a word unless she was spoken to. She was nervous, and all she wanted was to see Fundy and be held by him. Gregory and [YourName] would make their way back into L’manberg soon. “That’s your engagement necklace, out there they prefer necklaces over rings.” Her father explained, and it just began to make sense. Why Gregory was adamant about [YourName] taking the gift, she hoped she didn’t just place herself on the bad side of her future husband. If war was bad against Dream, who knows how bad his friend could be. But she shouldn’t be focusing on the negatives. Her home would have official freedom soon. “Does L’manberg know I’m doing this..?” [YourName] asked looking up toward her father as they entered their home, he shook his head. “No, but by the end of the week, they will. Wilbur will be announced on Friday, we need to prepare you a speech..” Gregory said thinking out loud. [YourName] cringed at the thought of giving a speech, but if she were to marry Sapnap she didn’t know how much public time she had to place forth with him. Who knew, he probably;y did speeches every day and [YourName] would have to suck it up. [YourName] nodded, taking her leave for her room. The following morning, [YourName] met up with Fundy in the woods. She hadn’t taken her necklace off, honestly forgetting she was wearing it. She held her jacket close, it was still early and the chill was still flowing through their area in L’manberg. She perked up when she heard Fundy’s voice, “Fundy!” she greeted him in a kiss. “We’re getting as many baisers in as we can, dear” [YourName] said ruffling with whatever hair she could reach, both laughing. Things were quiet as they enjoyed the area around them, just being with each other was enough for them right now. Fundy glanced down toward [YourName], the light catching and reflecting off of her neck. “Necklace?” Fundy asked, [YourName] showed confusion, “When did you get that necklace?” he asked, tilting his head. [YourName] felt around her neck before sadly sighing out, her smile had dropped and it made Fundy panic. “Oh, no, Sapnap gave it to me yesterday. They don’t uh... They don’t do engagement rings over there.” She explained shamefully pushing herself off of Fundy, it just felt wrong to be loving on him. She would be hurting him more than she would be hurting herself. “Oh..” Fundy said quietly, “I can ignore it, we still have until the speech on Friday.” the hybrid said perking up. [YourName] nodded, “sounds good. I like that idea. Three days, just us, we should tell our fathers we’re going out into the deeper part of L’manberg and spend time in that inn!” the female said gasping as she took Fundy’s hands. Her lighter demeanor brought joy to the fox human, he nodded “I love that, we’ll be back in time for your speech, c’mon!” Fundy said getting up and dragging [YourName] off. And they did just that. Fundy and [YourName] had gone off together for three days. They told their fathers as little information as they could, just promising to be back in time for [YourName]’s speech on Friday. Fundy and [YourName] spent as much time together, walks throughout the city, nature hikes, baking, reading- anything, they could do before [YourName] would be forced out of Fundy’s protective grasp. Fundy and [YourName] held hands as they looked across the waters, “I love you, Fundy. I want you to know that I’m going into this marriage wanting you, not him.” [YourName] said, holding onto his arm. Fundy smiled softly kissing her hair, “I love you more, [YourName], I’ll get you out of that relationship some day.” Fundy whispered against her soft (H/C) hair. [YourName] breathed in his scent and nodded as she sighed out, “I wish this never happened.” she said referring to the marriage, Fundy made a noise in agreement. As promised, they were back by Friday. [YourName] was wearing something more fancier, the mesh was uncomfortable but the silk as the base made up for it. It was a soft grey color, glitter embedded into the material. It fit [YourName] perfectly and her hair was done up even better. Sapnap carefully took [YourName]’s knuckles and brought it to his lips, she simply smiled in response and giggled hoping she was playing this uncomfortable situation off well enough. Sapnap didn’t exactly have to put this show on, they weren’t in public and Dream wasn’t around. Soon, Wilbur settled the crowd down and began his announcements. He goes on about how L’manberg was finally free from the Dream SMP and how they had to thank his close friends for it; “L’manberg finally faces a day without fear of being invaded by Dream SMP, and that is thanks to Gregory Florence and his daughter, [YourName] who bravely sacrificed their family name for our freedom.” Wilbur spoke like a true leader. Dream and Sapnap, who sat next to [YourName] and her father shared a look. “I would love to introduce the family, more specifically [YourName] and express her plans for her future.” Wilbur finished with a bright smile. As Wilbur stepped down and [YourName] took his place, there were cheers, probably from the fact they heard the words ‘L’manberg’ and ‘freedom’ within the same sentence. [YourName] awkwardly smiled and cleared her throat, “I’m proud to place myself as a sacrifice for my home, L’manberg has been in the hands of Dream SMP even when we thought we weren’t. I will rest easy, in the arms of my new husband, knowing my home is now it’s own and can hold its own elections.’ [YourName] began holding the sides of the podium to distress herself. “I hope my presence in Dream SMP relaxes Dream and his friends as I will be marrying one of them, my home may rest easy now. Thank you.” [YourName] finished immediately walking back to her seat. She wanted to be held, she glanced over to her father for attention, but he was too busy focusing on Dream who had taken [YourName]’s spot. Sapnap just happened to look over to [YourName], a smile on his face when he noticed she was still wearing the necklace he had gifted her a few days prior, but her face showed a desperate emotion. He didn’t know what else to do, so he gently nudged her and offered his hand. [YourName] was hesitant, and he could tell, but she took his hand. She closed her eyes and breathed out as if so much had just come off of her shoulders. She gently squeezed his hand as a thank you. Eventually the speeches were over and everyone left the stage, [YourName] and Sapnap kept their hands interlocked until she saw Fundy. [YourName] dropped his hand, thanking him, before turning back around and hugging Fundy. Sapnap watched the two talk, Fundy’s hands were on [YourName]’s elbows while she held his arms as they spoke with smiles. Ah, so that’s how she looks when she’s happy. Sapnap had only met [YourName] a few days ago, but she wore his engagement necklace and held his hand and were to marry him, so watching the two bond like that set a sour taste in his mouth. Jealousy. Fundy was Wilbur’s son though, and from the looks of it, Gregory and Wilbur are close friends so perhaps Fundy and [YourName] are just close friends. Sapnap made his way over after letting the two talk for a few minutes, he gently wrapped his arm around her waist and waited to be introduced. [YourName] froze for a moment, but soon went with what was happening. “Fundy, this is Sapnap. Sapnap, this is Fundy. Him and I are close friends.” She spoke, cringing internally at the usage of ‘friend’. She wanted to be so honest, but this was Fundy’s possible safety on the line. Fundy seemed to understand that, thank god. Fundy offered his hand which Sapnap took and gave a firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you. If [YourName] starts to get on your nerves, just send her back for an hour.” Fundy joked, making Sapnap laugh, “Hey! Rude! I’m right here, asshole!” [YourName] laughed leaning over and punching Fundy’s shoulder. Fundy just laughed harder, rubbing his shoulder where she had hit him, “God damn, should’ve placed you in war.” he said shaking his head. [YourName] rolled her eyes, Sapnap just watched the two interact close up. It comforted him, they truly did just act like friends and that’s all he had to worry about. “Sapnap! [Yourname]!” Wilbur said, walking over with Gregory and Dream, the three looked up, Fundy smiling awkwardly being surrounded by the men he fought against and fought with. It just felt weird, especially when one of them had an arm around your girlfriend’s waist. Doesn’t feel good at all. “We’ll be helping out with planning your wedding.” Dream said while the other two nodded, “George will be here later.” he quickly added. Sapnap nodded, but the words ‘planning’ and ‘wedding’ just made the situation more surreal and [YourName] paled. Fundy recognized that look, “Oh sh- Sapnap, catch her!” Fundy yelped trying to dive in just in time to catch her. [YourName] had fainted right on the spot. Sapnap and Fundy kept her up, Fundy gently handing [YourName] off. “How about we take [YourName] home for a bit, let her rest, maybe the heat has gotten to her” Gregory offered leading the way to his home, Fundy shook his head but followed Gregory in the group. Fundy knew [YourName] was dreading the wedding, and [YourName] was fine moments prior with no show of heat affecting her. Once they arrived at [YourName] and Gregory’s house, Fundy showed Sapnap to [YourName]’s room and let him place her carefully on the bed. Fundy would show him the balcony where [YourName] had set up a nice area to relax, and the two just stood there. “You’re going to be careful with her, right?” Fundy asked looking over to Sapnap, he seemed human and not his enemy for once since he faced Sapnap. Sapnap softly smiled, happy to know [YourName] has people who care for her, “Of course, even if the situation isn’t ideal” he chuckled. Fundy smiled and nodded, even if it was forced, he was glad to know his childhood best friend, his girlfriend, would be placed into a safe area. He trusted Sapnap this one time, and he hoped he wasn't giving the man too much credit.

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Act 1, chapter 2

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Content warnings: None, still pretty light here.

It wasn't long before they reached a small encampment where another woman called out to the one who had been guiding Morgan. "Fiona, I swear you're the worst scout we have. There's something following you, you know."

The rogue - Fiona - put her hands on her hips.

"I'll have you know, Akara, that this is an adventurer. He's going to combat our evil."

"And why didn't you send him to the den?"

"I just wanted your blessing, ma'am."

"More like you didn't want to go out of your way." The woman, evidently a superior of some sort, looked Morgan over with a cool gaze. "There's a monster den about half an hour's walk to the west of here. They've been giving us some trouble. If you can exterminate them, we'll talk."

Talking was very low on the list of things Morgan wanted to do. But eliminating a nest of evil creatures - that was a good task, easily defined with no messy human contact. And, of course, it would also contribute in a small way toward restoring the Balance, to fulfilling the request that had sent him out here in the first place. Surely it was more than just one den causing problems, but they likely wanted to test his ability. He nodded to show he'd understood, then turned to go. The two women continued to talk as he left.

"Is he mute, or what?"

"Nah, he talks. But listen, you'll never believe this -"

He stopped listening. There were more important things to think about, like whether or not it would be worth the effort to concentrate on making clay golems instead of using skeletons. He debated as he walked, keeping an ear out for sounds of danger. Skeletons were plentiful in these parts, he'd discovered. So that was convenient. He paused to raise two out of a boggy patch of ground. Two was a good number, enough to draw enemy attention away without draining his energy too much. He could only manage one earth golem at a time, but if other risen skeletons were attacking the Sisterhood... yes, the extra effort was probably worth it to ease future interactions. He could always reserve the skeletons for use away from the encampment, lay them back down into the earth outside their view.

Morgan stopped, crouching down to touch the ground. He sent out a tendril of magical energy, spreading it thin to form a humanoid shape. The earth lifted, obedient but slow, a form rising up ponderously. It took almost a minute to fully form, and Morgan was breathing hard by the end of it. It was a small golem, only a little taller than him but considerably sturdier. It would do for now. He was admittedly a little out of practice, but he resolved to keep working at it. Later, after this den was taken care of.

It was early the next morning by the time Morgan returned to the rogue encampment. The nest of imp demons had presented a challenge, but not an insurmountable one. He'd had to rest afterwards, taking a few hours to meditate. It wasn't quite sleeping, but it was close enough. He'd also remembered to put his skeletons back into the ground outside the view of the little town. A clay golem plodded along by his side; he was just more comfortable with at least one construct to protect him.

A familiar voice raised a call as he approached the town gate. "Hey, ghoul boy's back!" The encroaching forces of darkness must have taken a toll on their numbers, Morgan surmised. Why else would a scout have two watch shifts so close to one another? The sooner he could get to the root of the problem, the better - for all of them.

The gate rolled open and a new woman approached. Judging by her more impressive-looking armour, Morgan guessed her to be some sort of commander. When she spoke, she certainly had the tone of a leader.

"I didn't think we'd see you back here, outlander. Did you clear the den of monsters?"

"They were demons, not monsters." He hung back by the gates, reluctant to enter without an explicit invitation.

"Demons. Monsters. I don't care what they are other than dead. Are they dead?"

"Yes."

"Good. Welcome to the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye - what's left of it, anyway. Fiona says you're here to cleanse the evil from this place. She also says you came out of the woods alongside some skeletons, so I'm not sure what to believe. Tell me about yourself, stranger."

A few more women clad in light armour had appeared, hanging back behind their leader. Not so different from the imps he'd just finished with, Morgan thought - skittish, wary. He decided to keep that comparison to himself. No sense in actively antagonizing them. They were already poised to dislike him based on his school of magic, based on his experience so far. It was possible that whoever had sent the request to his Order had done so in secret. It was also possible that they had passed on already, given the sorry state of things. He tried to skirt the issue delicately.

"I am a follower of Rathma. We are charged with maintaining the Balance between light and darkness. We received word of a source of evil nearby that threatens to disrupt that Balance. I seek to destroy it. If you can direct me-"

"The priests of Rathma are necromancers, are they not?" This was the woman from before, Akara. He hadn't noticed her standing behind the rest of them. He recognized the disdain in her face, her voice. He'd been hoping to avoid this type of interaction, but he'd never been able to figure out a good way to dodge the question without lying outright. And while he could technically lie - there wasn't anything physically or magically preventing it - he had never developed the barest shred of skill in the art of deceit, and it was impossibly difficult to guess what people would or wouldn't believe in any given situation. In cases where the truth would be unwelcome, the best option was usually to try to deflect.

"I don't intend to do you any harm," he tried.

"Answer the question, then. Yes or no."

Well, it had been worth trying. It seemed like Akara knew the answer anyway, and just wanted to hear it from him, for some reason.

"Yes."

Most of the women took a horrified step back, grimacing in disgust or fear. He didn't let it bother him on a personal level - it was easiest to work from the assumption that everyone would have these sorts of feelings toward him, based on either his appearance or his affiliation - but it rarely bade well for situations like this in which he needed information. The commander didn't flinch, which was heartening. She turned to face Akara.

"We can't afford to be choosy right now, Priestess. Whatever his methods, this is the best chance we've had in a while. I'm not going to waste it." She turned back to Morgan. "You'd do best to start by finding Deckard Cain. Word is, he knows just about everything there is to know. If he still lives, he should be able to tell you more about the evil that blights our land here."

He listened carefully as she described this scholar and his last known whereabouts. It was a good plan, to gather as much information as possible before properly facing down whatever evil had rooted there. It would likely take a few days to reach Tristram, which would give him time to work on his golems. He was pleased with these developments until the commander turned to address the women huddled behind her.

"Blaise, you'll go with him."

What? No, this wouldn't do at all. Other people just complicated things. What Morgan needed was the simplicity of solitude with his golems. He raised his hands in protest. "Madam, I really don't-"

"What the fuck, Kashya?" That was presumably Blaise, voicing a much louder objection. "Are you still mad about that thing last week? I said I was sorry, I don't deserve-"

"That wasn't a request," Kashya said calmly. "I think you're the best one for the job, and I won't hear any arguments. Now get your things together for the journey." The assembled rogues huddled in a group, chattering quietly amongst themselves as Blaise turned on her heel and stalked away. Morgan took a few steps toward their commander.

"Please, madam Kashya, I ask you to reconsider-"

"When I said no arguments, I meant it. Two heads are better than one. Now you can wait outside; you're making my girls nervous."

Morgan waited outside. It was clear that the matter was not open for discussion. He guessed that pushing it further would only serve to alienate the single person who seemed at all willing to work with him. One was better than none, so he would try to stay on her good side.

[jayeray-hq]

Blindfold

Hey guys, so this is a re-post and one of the things I’m most nervous to re-post. Feel free to ignore my art if you want to. I’m really, really new to digital drawing, but I wanted to practice. Story is under the cut! Make sure to read the warnings! Notes: 2

Like this? Check out my Goshiki Tsutomu character masterlist!

Warnings: 18+ minors dni! only NSFW big time! Sensory deprivation/blindfold, Dom!Reader, Sub!Goshiki, teasing, handjob, male overstimulation, unsafe (sort of) sex, riding, mistress, dacryphilia

“How does that feel?” you asked, gently tugging the knot a bit before circling back around him to the front, “Not too tight?”

             “It’s fine,” Goshiki assured you though his voice was a little wobbly his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

             “You’re sure?” you asked gently, “Remember we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

             “I want to,” he blurted, the vehemence in his voice clear, and if you were able to see his eyes you were sure they would be wide and earnest, but they were covered at the moment with a long length of red silk, the whole reason you were having this conversation in the first place, a blindfold.

             “And you remember your safe word?” you asked just to be sure.

             “Pineapple,” he told you confidently.

             “And the three colors?” you prompted.

             “Green for go, I’m doing well, Yellow for please slow down I’m a little uncomfortable, Red for stop, I need to pause or even stop altogether,” he recited dutifully.

             “Good boy,” you praised a smile earning a small smile in return, pleased and proud.

             When you’d first started dating Goshiki you hadn’t thought you would ever be here, teaching him what you knew about bdsm and experimenting with some of the more vanilla aspects of it. He hadn’t really struck you as a submissive, as confident as he could be on the court.

             However, then you’d gotten to know him and he’d let you take the lead more and more often, clearly enjoying intimacy more when you were in charge. Once you realized the two of you had sat down to have a long discussion about it, what he liked, what you liked, and what you both might like to try together, which led you to where you were now.

             This was one of the first and easiest things he’d wanted to try, a simple blindfold, and you’d been all for it. However not without drilling him on basic safety first. The two of you might never get further than this, content with just dipping a toe into the bdsm world together, but if you were going to do it, you were going to do it right for both your sakes.

             “And what color are you now?” you asked just to be sure.

             “Green,” he told you firmly, clearly settling down as you moved through familiar territory, which was the other reason you’d been so adamant about teaching him.

             “And you can’t see?” you double checked just to be sure, waving your hands in front of his face to see if you could get any kind of reaction.

             “No,” he told you honestly.

             “Good,” you affirmed slowly walking around him, your heels tapping clearly on the wooden floor.

             When the two of you had first discussed this, Goshiki had been confused about why you insisted on doing it in the living room and not the kitchen, the answer to which you hoped was now obvious. The bedroom had carpet in it, while the living room didn’t, and you knew from experience that when you removed one sense, the others almost seemed to enhance to make up the difference. He’d be able to hear your movements loud and clear, which was just what you wanted. After all using a blindfold was all about building up anticipation, which is exactly what the heels did.

             You’d also made a point to wear something sexy and let him look his fill before you tied the blindfold on, knowing it would aid his imagination and his visualization of what you were doing. Thus, you’d chosen a nice skin tight, short black dress and been sure to flash him a bit, the red lace of your underwear blatant against the dark dress.

             He was clothed normally, in a t-shirt and jeans, his hands at his sides as he waited patiently for you to begin, the only thing out of the ordinary the bright red silk of the blindfold over his eyes which perfectly matched the red of your panties.

             Gently you placed a hand on his chest over his heart, which you could feel racing under your palm even through the material of his shirt. He jolted slightly at your touch but then went still as you slid your palm upward, enjoying the feel of lean hard muscle under your hand as you reached his shoulder and traced a path up his throat, cupping his jaw in your hand and carefully tracing your thumb over his bottom lip, gently pulling it away from his teeth where he’d been biting it nervously and soothing over the bitten flesh.

             “I’m going to take such good care of you,” you promised him sincerely, gently tracing his jaw with your knuckle before pulling away, stepping back and slowly circling him so you were behind him his head swiveling on his neck to follow the sound of your footsteps despite not being able to see you.

             You stepped close, so close your toes were nearly touching the backs of his heels and you could feel the heat of his body through your clothes, and knew he had to feel it as well savoring the feel of it for a moment before wrapping your arms around his torso, letting your hands slip underneath the hem of his t-shirt to rest on his abdomen, gently stroking the muscles there, fingers idly tracing the thin treasure trail that led into his pants, making him shudder in your hold.

             “Let’s get this t-shirt off of you hmm?” you asked gently tugging at the fabric before ordering, “Arms up!”

             He obeyed and you traced your hands upwards again, savoring the feeling of warm skin and muscle under your hands, taking the t-shirt with you, eventually reaching the collar and stretching it slightly to ensure you got it over his head without dislodging the blindfold. Once it was over his head you had him pull it off his arms himself and accepted the garment from his hands, stepping away from him to lay it over the back of the couch for safe keeping.

             When you turned around again you took a moment to admire him as you slowly stalked back over. He was beautifully muscled, not bulky by any means, but well defined, with broad shoulders, lean hips and nicely sculpted arms and torso with an abundance of slightly golden toned skin. His small flat nipples had hardened in the cool air, the small brown buds erect and his skin lightly covered in goosebumps.

             “Cold?” you questioned carefully, a little concerned. You didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. You felt fine, warm even, but if he didn’t you would find a way to fix it.

             “No,” he answered his voice trembling slightly in a way that made you shiver in delight.

             “You sure?” you prompted, reaching a hand out so you could rub the pad of your thumb over one of his hardened buds, and he sucked in a harsh breath, his hips jerking the tiniest bit at the small touch, “Because I think this says otherwise.”

             “Not cold,” he assured you again, “I promise.”

             “And your color is?” you pressed just to be certain.

             “Green.”

             You nodded, though he couldn’t see the movement, pleased rewarding him with another faint brush of your thumb against his sensitive nipple before pulling away, running your finger tips lightly over his shoulder, tracing the contour and ridge of his bicep and the veins on his forearm.

             “You’re doing so well,” you praised lightly as you slowly circled him, giving him little touches that varied in pressure to keep him on his toes, a gentle sweep of your hand along the back of his shoulders, a warm palm down his spine, a single finger tracing the lovely trail of course black hairs that led enticingly into his jeans. Each touch made him twitch slightly, his breath hitching in small gasps of pleasure, a noticeable bulge pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

             Teasingly you stepped up behind him again blowing a gentle cold breath against his neck that made him shiver before placing your hands on his hips, thumbs massaging the dimples of his back as you caught his earlobe gently between your teeth nibbling lightly before using your tongue to trace the shell of his ear.

             “Do you like this Tsutomu?” you purred to him, one of your hands slipping around to his front to cup his erection through his pants, “It certainly looks like you do.”

             A soft groan left his lips as you gently squeezed him rubbing your hand over the bulge, stroking him through the fabric as you pressed your breasts to his back your lips moving to suck at the spot just behind his ear as your ordered, “Answer me sweet boy, use your words.”

             “Y-es,” he gasped as his hips bucked involuntarily into your hand, “I like it.”

             “Good boy,” you praised, giving him one last squeeze before returning your hands to his waist, running your palms up and down his sides before sliding both hands to the front and undoing the belt that was holding his jeans up, along with the button, and fly allowing them to fall open before sliding your hands back up his chest again.

             You tilted your head so you could reach the side of his neck, sucking and nibbling a path down toward his shoulders, letting your hands linger on his pecs brushing the palms teasingly over his nipples earning a soft whine from your boyfriend, the little needy sound making you rub your thighs together in pleasure.

             You found a spot you liked on his neck and began to suck determined to leave a mark as a low moan left his throat, clearly enjoying your ministrations as your hands found his shoulders. You traced them downwards enjoying the feel of the stiff muscle, tense with anticipation and desire until you reached his hands, which were clenched into fists at his sides, clearly doing his best not to reach out or grab you.

             “Relax your grip,” you ordered tapping your fingers on the backs of his knuckles, and then lacing your fingers through his when he complied the palm of your hands to the backs of his. With your hold on him and his willing cooperation it was easy to guide them where you wanted them, and you pulled one up so it was cradling his pec and the other down to cup his erection, shifting your hips forward, grinding yourself into his backside while pressing his hand down, forcing him to rub himself into his palm.

             “Ah-ah,” the little sound of pleasure escaping his lips as you continued the motion, repeating it several times was enough to make your mouth water, he sounded so utterly delicious.

             “Good boy,” you praised pressing a lingering kiss to the side of his neck in reward, “Keep your hand there for me, and play with your pretty nipple okay?”

             A soft gasp escaped his lips at the order, but he did as you said as you pulled your hands away and stepped back, to get a little room between you so you could slide your hands down his back and into the back pockets of his jeans, cupping his toned ass in both hands and squeezing earning a deep needy groan, his hips jerking helplessly.

             “So good,” you murmured almost to yourself as you pressed another kiss to the back of his shoulder before stepping back and removing your hands. The loss of your hands on him had a soft whine of protest escaping his lips, the sound utterly cute and needy.

             “Don’t worry Tsutomu,” you soothed, as you walked around to his front “I’ll come back to you, just let me look at you first.”

             “You look gorgeous like this baby boy,” you cooed at him as you took in the full picture of him, his lips were slightly parted as he sucked in needy breaths, his cheeks flushed pink, a flush that extended down his neck to the top of his chest. His hand was still playing with his nipple, gently pinching and rolling it between his thumb and finger, his other hand down his pants, which were hanging loosely around his hips enough that you could see the white briefs he was wearing underneath and watch the way his hand cupped and occasionally squeezed his clear erection.

             You stepped forward, to gently cup his face in your hands, guiding him gently to press your lips to his, unable to resist as your pressed several sweet open mouthed kisses to his lips, a smile curving your mouth upwards as he chased your mouth after each one trying to prolong the contact.

             You indulged him stepping forward into his body to kiss him more deeply, one hand still cupping his jaw but the other going around to the back of his head to tangle in his hair, the slightly coarse fibers tickling your fingertips. You parted your lips, and gently, but insistently pressed your tongue to the seam of his lips, and he immediately opened up for you allowing you to explore the cavern of his mouth.

             He moaned as you brushed your tongue up over the roof of his mouth and rubbed it along his, his own tongue chasing yours back into your mouth where you sucked on it sweetly enjoying the taste of him for long moments before pulling back to teasingly nip at his upper lip before diving back in.

             He was utterly pliant to your demands, allowing you to dominate him completely, which was an incredibly hot and heady feeling, especially as you knew that physically you would never be able to overpower him without his consent. Tasting him like this a part of you wanted to give up your teasing little game right there, but in the end managed to muster up the willpower to pull away, not ready to stop just yet.

             Goshiki whined when you pulled away clearly unhappy that you’d stopped kissing him, but the whine changed to a pleasured groan as you traced your lips down his chin, tilting his head back with the grip you still had on his hair and kissing the underside of his jaw, nipping playfully at his adam’s apple before moving lower.

             You were forced to relinquish your grip on his hair as you brought your face level with his chest. Instead gently pushing his hand away from his thoroughly abused nipple, which was swollen and pink. Looking at it sent a wave of heat through you, though you only gave it one, quick soothing kiss, flicking your tongue over the tip before turning to its neglected twin. The sweet keening sound that he made as you did so enough to send a gush of moisture to your throbbing pussy.

             You left several wet sloppy kisses to the little bud sucking it into your mouth and gently teasing it with your teeth and the tip of your tongue, your hands latched firmly on your boyfriend’s sides to hold him in place and to help keep your balance as he moaned in pleasure.

             One the bud was nice and pink to match its abused fellow you sank lower kissing, suckling a path down the middle of his abdomen and abusing the taught skin that was stretched tight over the muscle there Eventually reaching the elastic of his briefs, his other hand, which was still covering his cock, bumping your chin.

             You took hold of that hand and pulled it away, sitting back slightly on your heels to just look at him. The outline of his hard cock was clear through his underwear and there was a slight wet patch near the tip that let you know he was leaking precum. Your mouth watered slightly at the sight of him, but it wasn’t time for that, not yet anyway.

             Instead you brought your fingers up to toy with the elastic of his underwear, running your fingers along the edge and dipping your fingertips underneath, hooking your index finger in it and pulling it away from his toned hips only to let it snap back.

             “How are you feeling Tsutomu?” you asked teasingly as you traced a finger over the outline of his cock through the fabric, “Because you look good, so good, and clearly ready for me to touch you here.”

             “I’m ready,” he told you breathlessly, his hips jutting forward as if begging for your touch, his cock twitching underneath the fabric, “Please I’m ready.”

             You hummed in acknowledgment taking hold of him through his underwear and earning a helpless whine, but you didn’t stroke him, or do anything other than arrange him so that when you tugged the waistband down a bit the top part of him was freed, and then trapped against his abdomen before letting go again.

             “Please, please,” he begged through a ragged breath as the seconds dragged on without you touching him, too enraptured watching precum leak from his tip and smear across his muscled abdomen as his cock twitched as if it too was begging for you.

             “Look at you,” you cooed at him reaching out to run a single finger around the mushroomed head, “So pink and flushed and hard.”

             “Mm are you close Tsutomu?” you asked gently tapping your finger against the weeping tip and teasing the slit, “Are you going to come for me?”

             “Y-es,” he told you his voice breaking slightly in his desperation, “Yes, please yes. I want to come for you, please let me come.”

             His words decided you, and you hauled yourself to your feet taking several steps away, to the coffee table, glad you’d taken the time beforehand to lay things out that you might need, including lube and condoms especially when his voice followed you begging, “W-wait! Please wait where are you going? Don’t leave me.”

             “I’m not leaving you sweet boy,” you assured him the words making your heart hurt, especially when despite them he didn’t make any move to follow or take off his blindfold, still behaving perfectly, “Just need to grab something.”

             You took several quick steps back toward him with the bottle of lube in your hand, pleased that despite the small moment of distress he hadn’t softened any. Still you took a moment to wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing a soothing kiss to his shoulder blade, humming in satisfaction as some of the nervous tension left his body.

             “Color?” you prompted.

             “Green,” he told you with a shuddered sigh.

             “Good boy,” you praised hooking your chin over his shoulder so you could see down his front, your arms still wrapped around his torso as you commanded, “Put your hand out for me, palm up.”

             He did as asked, holding his dominant hand out, which was just as well, as you popped the cap to the lube, and warned, “Don’t pull away, it’s just lube.”

             You pressed the nozzle to his palm so he was ready for it and squirted a generous amount into his palm before recapping it, and tossing it lightly on to the nearby couch, your hand coming down to his hip, slowly easing the elastic of his underwear lower until his fill length was bared, bobbing and twitching eagerly.

             “I want you to stroke yourself off for me Tsutomu,” you murmured into his ear, “I want to watch as you come all over yourself. Can you do that for me sweet boy? If you do I’ll reward you.”

             He’d stiffened at first, clearly ready to protest, needy thing that he could be, but at the promise of a reward he nodded, his hand slowly going to fist his erection, spreading the lube over it to ease his passage.

             “Say is out loud for me,” you scolded lightly bringing your hands up so they were cupping his pecs.

             “Yes,” he replied immediately, “Yes I can come for you. I’ll be good for you.”

             “I know you will,” you told him affectionately, nuzzling your face into his neck, “You’re always such a good boy Tsutomu, and because you’re so good I’ll even help you out a bit.”

             “Help?” he asked curiously, then squeaked in surprise, a sound that turned into a low moan of pleasure as you gently pinched his nipples.

             “Yes help,” you affirmed with a smile, gently rolling the sensitive nubs between your fingers, “So why don’t you jack yourself off for me?”

             He did as told, his hand beginning to pump his hard length, working himself over thoroughly, most of his weight on his heels, leaning back into you and trusting you to keep him upright. You watched your arousal growing by the second and thighs rubbing together unconsciously to give yourself a little relief as he put on a show for you.

             His whole body was trembling slightly from the stimulation his hips jerking as he fucked his hand. The sounds that he made, deep groans and choked cries as you gently pinched his nipples and sucked at his neck were driving you crazy. You weren’t sure how much longer you could go before you shoved him down on the couch and rode him to completion.

             Luckily the buildup meant he was more than ready to come, and it only took a minute or two before he was spilling into his hand with a choked cry, striping his abdomen, underwear and jeans with cum.

             “Keep stroking,” you ordered breathily, entranced by him, as his hand began to slow, “I want you hard Tsutomu so I can give you your reward for being so good.”

             He whined slightly but complied continuing to move his hand over his length even as his thighs began to shake slightly from too much pleasure, a good deal of his weight braced on you and soft choked cries on his lips.

             “So good for me,” you cooed, pressing your lips to his shoulder, “Such a good boy, brace yourself now love I’m going to step back.”

             He did as asked, relieving you of some of his weight, his hand slowing slightly, stroking just enough to keep himself hard without overdoing it. While he did that you knelt taking hold of his jeans and underwear and finally pulling them all the way off him.

             “Step,” you ordered firmly, gently tapping the shin of the leg you wanted him to lift, unhooking the clothing from him, and repeating the process on the other side before tossing them away and climbing back to your feet.

             You circled back around to the front of him, and gently took hold of his hands, stopping him from continuing to stimulate himself, full confident that his cock, flushed, hard, and weeping again would remain so.

             “Come on Tsutomu,” you urged gently tugging him toward the recliner. He came easily, shuffling a little rather than picking up his feet, but clearly putting his full trust in you to not let him run into anything, which you found incredibly touching.

             “Feel the chair?” you asked gently placing his hand on the arm so he could get a feel for where it was, “Take a seat for me sweet boy.”

             He did as you asked and while he did so you hiked up your dress and pulled your panties down impatiently, tossing them away, glad to be rid of the garment which had become soaked through and uncomfortable. You considered getting rid of the dress as well, but in the end decided not too as it would be too much work, instead hiking it up around your hips, as you climbed into your boyfriend’s lap, gently pushing on his chest so he was leaning back against the cushions instead of bolt upright.

             “Keep your hands here,” you instructed, guiding both so they were on the arms of the recliner, before using the buttons to set it back a bit as you ordered, “Don’t move them or I’ll stop.”

             You didn’t give him a chance to reply, instead ducking down to press your lips to his, kissing him hungrily. He immediately opened his mouth to meet you, tongue dancing with your own as you slipped the hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair down between the two of you to his hard cock, taking the length in your hand and giving it a couple experimental strokes. He groaned into your mouth, his body tensing slightly, but to his credit his hands remained where you put them.

             “Are you ready for your reward sweet boy?” you asked him as you teased his blunt head along your wet slit, shivering at the sensation.

             “I’m ready,” he agreed breathily, “Please I’m ready.”

             You hummed in acknowledgment, lifting yourself up slightly and pressing him into you, slowly allowing yourself to slide down his length, easing yourself into it until you were fully seated on his lap and impaled. The two of you didn’t bareback very often despite the fact that you were on the pill, but you both had gotten tested for STIs before you started having sex together and were clean so you didn’t see why you shouldn’t indulge yourselves once in a while.

             The moan he let out made you think he probably agreed with you, as you clenched yourself around his length, feeling pleasantly full, the heat of him far more apparent without the latex barrier along with every ridge and vein. He was practically throbbing inside you, the thought of which had you shivering slightly in pleasure.

             “Tsutomu,” you crooned as you shifted your hips, grinding into him in slow steady movements, “Tsutomu you feel so good inside me, so hot and hard, and filling me up so well.”

             “Do you like this baby? Like the feel of my pussy around your naked cock?” you asked thrusting your hips into his using a hand on his shoulder and one on the back of the chair for leverage as you worked yourself over him in slow hard thrusts the sound of flesh of flesh echoing through the room along with his near constant moans as he squirmed slightly beneath you fighting to hold still.

             He didn’t answer you as you circled your hips around letting him hit every single pleasurable spot inside you, the feeling indescribable and enough to make you more than a bit breathless yourself.

             “I asked you a question Tsutomu,” you reminded him pausing in your movements so you could be sure of his full attention, “Do you like my pussy baby? Or should I take it away?”

             “No, no please,” he begged desperately, between panting gasps, “Please I like it. I like it, feels so good!”

             “That’s all you had to say good boy,” you praised resuming your motions and planting a sloppy kiss to his mouth, a gesture he eagerly returned leaning into you as best he could from his reclined position.

             “Fuck yes,” you moaned unable to help yourself as you bounced on his cock nearly losing yourself to the sensation of it, the pleasure building with each movement you made. You’d been on edge for a while now, watching him put on such a beautiful show for you, being so obedient, sweet and trusting while he was unable to see. It was no wonder you were so close to bursting just the feel of him inside you was putting you close to the edge.

             “Tsutomu,” you moaned as you thrust your hips down on him erratically chasing your pleasure, though you still managed to retain the last vestiges of control as you told him, “Tsutomu I’m going to come. I’m going to cream all over your gorgeous cock sweet boy, because you’re so good for me, feel so go inside me Tsutomu.”

             “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he swore vehemently, desperately his hips shifting up to meet yours as best he could even as he kept his hands in place and begged, “Please, please, give it to me? Give it to me? I want to feel it, please mistress please.”

             That word, one he’d never actually spoken aloud to you before was enough to send you careening right over the edge your pussy clamping down on him hard, milking him, the sensation of your walls clenching and unclenching around him enough to make you feel a bit dizzy. The sensation was only enhanced as you heard your boyfriend keen desperately under you and the wet sensation as he throbbed and pulsed inside you jets of cum coating your insides.

             “I don’t think I gave you permission to come, sweet boy,” you murmured once you’d gotten your bearings back slightly, delighting in the way he shuddered in pleasure underneath you as you asked, “Did you come inside your mistress without permission Tsutomu?”

             “Yes mistress,” he whimpered panting for breath as if he’d just run a marathon, “I’m sorry mistress.”

             “I’m not sure sorry is enough,” you told him lightly, “I think you might have to let your actions speak for you and make it up to me naughty boy.”

             “Yes, yes I’ll make it up to you, I’ll be good mistress,” he assured you vehemently.

             “And your color is?” you prompted just to make sure he was as good as he seemed with this new turn of events.

             “Green mistress,” he reassured you.

             “Good boy,” you praised, slowly beginning to move your hips again, clenching around his still hard length and earning a whimper at the beginnings of overstimulation, “Now here’s how you’re going to make it up to me Tsutomu.”

             “You’ve had two orgasms now,” you explained as you slowly circled your hips, rolling them against his hard cock testing how sensitive you still were and finding yourself delightfully stimulated and thankfully not overly so, “And I’ve only had the one, that hardly seems fair now does it?”

             “No mistress,” he agreed readily his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides voice shaking slightly despite the firm tone behind his words.

             “So I’m going to keep riding you just like this,” you told him swiveling your hips sweetly over his for emphasis, and earning a whine of pleasure “Until I come again, and then if, and only if you haven’t come again Tsutomu I will let you put your hands on me, and help me out until you do come. However, if you come again before I let you sweet boy I’m going to remove myself from you, and get myself off, by myself while you put on a show for me, stroking and overstimulating yourself until I’m satisfied and you may or may not be allowed to come again afterwards clear?”

             “Clear mistress,” he gasped in confirmation clear desire and eagerness in his voice.

             “Good boy,” you praised gently stroking his cheek with your hand, “Now hold nice and still for me.”

             This time as you rode him, your pussy still sensitive and clenching around his cock, you focused on the sounds he was making, each one making your throb and tighten around him. He sounded so sweet, a litany of moans, whines and desperate cries that you egged on with every bounce of your hips gently reaching out to occasionally gently tug on his still swollen pink nipples.

             “Tell me how it feels,” you urged wanting to hear more of his voice your own hand going to your clit, unable to help yourself as you watched him, cheeks and chest flushed and dewy with sweat, his arms and shoulders rippling and flexing as he fought to keep his grip on the arms of the recliner, his dark bangs plastered to his forhead.

             “Feels so good,” he choked out desperately, “Feels so good, so tight on my cock, so hot and wet and tight, oh please, oh please mistress don’t stop.”

             His begging was just what you needed. The sound of his voice, ragged with desire and desperation and his cock rubbing you in all the right ways, the motion between you two obscenely wet with a mix of your own juices and his cum and the sound of your flesh meeting was too much, especially with your fingers desperately playing with your clit.

             You came again, body bowing tightly as your fingers dug into his biceps for purchase to keep you grounded a choked gasp escaping your lips as your pussy clamped around him again tight and full and oh so pleasurable.

             “Please,” the broken ragged cry pulled you from your brief haze of lust and fulfilled pleasure and turned your attention back to your sweet boyfriend who was trembling beneath you from sheer effort, clearly doing his best to hold himself back.

             “Please mistress please. I can’t…!” he cut off with a choked whine and you realized the dark stains beginning to form on the red silk still covering his eyes were tears as Goshiki literally cried from pleasure. The sight of it making you throb with renewed desire, though you set it aside to explore at some later date, right now you had a gorgeous sweet boyfriend to reward.

             “You’re so good,” you crooned at him, gently rubbing his cheek with your thumb, “Your so good Tsutomu and you’ve definitely earned your reward, so come take me hmm? Fuck me sweet boy.”

             It was if your words had snapped his last semblance of restraint, his hands jumping to your hips as he surged up into you, thrusting as best as he was able to from his back, his grip helping you move over him as choked pleasured sobs left his lips, the breath hiccupping and catching with pleasure. You moved to help him out thrusting your hips into his eagerly, leaning forward for more leverage and capturing his mouth in a sloppy desperate kiss.

             “So close mistress so close, feels so good,” he panted between kisses. It was almost like you’d unleashed some kind of animal his thrusts rough and desperate and his grip on you nearly bruising, the way he was thrusting making your whole-body tremble with pleasure as you were barely able to keep up with him. Still this was meant to be a reward, and you were determined to do your part.

             “You’re close sweet boy?” you repeated gasping for breath yourself a drawn out moan escaping your lips as a particularly deep thrust had you seeing stars, “You going to come for me? Going to fill me full of your seed? Give it to me Tsutomu, give it to me!”

             He did as you asked thrusting hard several more times before sealing you to him, thrust as deep inside you as he possibly could as his head rolled back on his shoulders and he came with a ragged cry, the feel of him throbbing and releasing inside you enough to send you into one final orgasm of your own your body milking him for all the seed he could produce.

             His body went lax against you as he finished his orgasm, though his hands remained firmly on your hips both of you panting desperately for breath and trying to process everything that had just happened.

             Belatedly you realized his blindfold was still on and you carefully reached for it, gently tugging it up so you could finally see his eyes. The look on his face was completely and utterly fucked out, his lips parted as he sucked in deep lungful’s of air, his cheeks still flushed and eyes dazed, the pupils blown wide.

             It took him a minute for his eyes to focus on you as he blinked several times trying to get accustomed to the light again, but when they did manage to find your face, the affectionate and adoration in his gaze nearly stole your breath away again. Unable to help yourself you leaned down to nuzzle your face into his pressing a sweet kiss to his willing lips before resting your forehead against his.

             “I love you,” he murmured quietly still a little shy about saying the words aloud, his hands stroking up and down your back.

             “I love you too Tsutomu,” you told him fervently, “So, so much.”

             “I’m glad,” he told you a little shyly before hesitantly asking, “W-was it good for you?”

             “I feel like I’m the one who should be asking you that,” you told him with a slightly incredulous laugh, “That was amazing for me, you were amazing, but what about you?”

             “I liked it,” he confessed a slight shiver going through him and his eyes becoming slightly dazed for a moment with pleasure, “I liked it a lot. And I-I”

             “Liked it enough that you’d like to try it again sometime?” you prompted, taking a guess about what he was trying to say.

             “If you don’t mind?” he conceded clear vulnerability in his gaze as he peered up at you, obviously a little nervous, but trusting.

             “I’d love to do this with you, to explore this with you,” you assured him running your fingers gently through his sweat damp bangs,

             “Okay,” he breathed out clearly relieved, “Okay.”

             “I love you Tsutomu,” you reminded him, your heart feeling as if it could burst from the sheer amount of affection you felt for this man.

             “I love you too,” he told you sincerity practically dripping from the words even as his eyelids began to flutter shut, and you realized he was right on the verge of passing out.

             You smiled affectionately at him and settled in against him your head on his shoulder as you decided that clean up could wait at least for a little bit. Right now savoring the afterglow and reflecting on how lucky you were to have him with your amazing boyfriend sweet and pliant beneath you was far more important. There would be time for clean up, and other important discussions of just what all he wanted to explore with you later.

[wing-dingy]

Hey there! So I said I was half tempted to post some mk fanfics, so i did *nervous jazz hands*

Basically just some subscorp, fluff with very little plot, basically Hanzo has a restless night and decides to drop by the Lin Kuei temple for some comfort in his lover, Kuai Liang. Also includes Hanzo feeding Kuai, because Kuai is such a workaholoic that when he has time to eat he forgets to. I’m a sucker for lovers taking care of each other 🥺😭 like literally the file name for this fic was “oops all fluff” lmao

Oh, and a few puns because back when I rped as Kuai, I had this whole thing going on where he makes more puns than he should be allowed to and i got too attached to it as a hc lol

well hope y’all enjoy cuz all i want is some gotdamn happy subscorp

     Kuai Liang took a deep sigh as he laid back in the snow. Far past midnight, many of the students fast asleep, but not the Grandmaster himself. No, instead he was laying in the snow, bare of any clothes save for his briefs. His clothes were neatly folded in a pile by him as he laid, now closing his eyes. The thoughts were vanishing, nothing but emptiness in his mind. It was a new form of meditation he had picked up, becoming one with the snow. It was always when the ice began to coat his body as he let go of himself and his grip on the world that he knew he had succeeded in his meditation session.

     Sometime into his meditation, he heard in the distance the sounds of snow crunching. Someone was approaching. He opened his eyes and sat up to prepare himself for a potential visitor. But when he looked around, he saw nobody, only the footsteps. Perhaps just a student wondering, looking for something to do to tire themselves out. He laid back down, then closed his eyes after a few thoughtful blinks. And there they were again, the footsteps, snow crunching and packing under the weight of somebody approaching near. Next he heard the slow scraping of metal, and that was when he rolled over and stood up to face his visitor.

    “Your hearing hasn’t failed you quite yet,” Hanzo teased as he sheathed his katana. He was without his armor, just casual clothes as it was late, but he still carried his weapons on him, just in case. “But still, that was too close.”

    Kuai smiled sweetly as he faced Hanzo. “Hearing is one of the most important senses. These ears will never fail me. But I felt my timing was amusingly dramatic no?” The cryomancer stepped forward to Hanzo, arms open. Of course Hanzo opened his arms and they united in a tight hug, cold and warmth meeting, fulfilling the temperatures each other craved. “It is wonderful to see you again, Hanzo. But why are you here? It is quite late.”

    “I was having another restless night, I wanted to see you...” Hanzo let go of Kuai just slightly, just enough to see his face while still holding him. “Why were you laying in the snow? Is your cryomancy not enough to keep you cool?”

    “I was meditating.” Kuai answered. "You are free to try it with me, if you're interested."

     Hanzo looked down at the snow, then back up at Kuai. "I worry I may melt the snow."

     "You are quite hot, you make even me melt." Kuai winked at him, causing Hanzo to blush lightly.

     "Is that another pun of yours?"

     Kuai had an awful cheeky smile. "Perhaps.” The cryomancer let go of Hanzo to retrieve his clothes he left on the ground and began to at least put on the pants. Sweat pants, just to emphasize it was the Grandmaster’s leisurely hours.

     “You can still meditate if you please,” Hanzo offered.

    “And what would the fun be in having to pretend you’re not here with me? I would much rather spend time with you.” Kuai took a hold of Hanzo’s hand, once again the cold meeting hot, and out in the snow it caused a subtle steam from their strong hands holding each other. Then Kuai gently pulled Hanzo guiding him towards the doors. “Come inside with me, I will prepare you some tea.”

    “Perhaps I can make you some food, too.”

    “You needn’t, Hanzo. Not if it is making you go out of your way.”

    “I want to feed you, my snowflake. I know you forget to eat sometimes when you get so caught up between work and your own personal time.”

    “A fair point.”

    “When was the last time you had eaten?” Although it sounded like Hanzo was scolding Kuai, he really wasn’t. He wasn’t mad at all with Kuai, it was just his worry for Kuai’s well being coming out in how he naturally expresses it.

    “Lunch time, about… 6 hours ago.”

    “Do you not feel hungry?”

    “I suppose I do now that you mention it. I suppose I can’t ever say no to your cooking, I do enjoy it.”

    “Good,” Hanzo huffed.

    Inside the temple was much warmer, something the Grandmaster always made sure of every night for his students. While he was a cryomancer himself, and he understood some of his students were also cryomancers, there were plenty that were not. The nightfall’s cold would be far too bothersome if they tried to endure it in their sleep, and a warrior without proper rest is a vulnerable one. It was even warm enough for Hanzo to notice, giving him a cozy vibe, which he didn’t mind at all given he tends to like it warmer… Except for when holding Kuai.

    Kuai took Hanzo around to the temple’s large kitchen, and let go of his hand just to begin preparing to boil the water for their tea. In the meanwhile, Hanzo looked around at the options of foods to work with for him and his lover. Something meaty, of course, since there were tons of meat stored and ready for cooking. Much of the Lin Kuei’s diet consisted of meat, it was easiest to obtain, as animals were more abundant than anything agricultural. What they did have besides meat was always received by the Special Forces to help them maintain at least some semblance of a balanced diet. Very nice of them.

    “What do you plan on making, Hanzo?” Kuai asked.

    “I am thinking of kushiyaki. It should be quick enough to prepare,” Hanzo answered as he began to pull some meat, labeled ‘game’, out of the fridge.

    Kuai loved hearing Hanzo’s Japanese. He could literally just be listing various foods in their Japanese names and Kuai would be head over heels for his lover’s mother tongue. “What is kushiyaki, dear?”

    “Kushiyaki is like the yakitori, except that it can include non-poultry meats on it. Usually it is only meat on it, but I suppose some vegetables would benefit us.” It probably didn’t count as kushiyaki then, rather than a regular grilled kebab.

    “Would you like some help preparing the meat?” Kuai asked, already drawing a knife from a drawer. “I can hardly cook, but I am quite skilled in cutting.”

    Hanzo nodded. “I would appreciate that.”

    And together they chopped the meat into cubes and rectangles. They cut off enough for five skewers, part of Hanzo’s plan. Of course, this was unnoticed by Kuai Liang until Hanzo had already flavoured and spiced them and began to put them on the skewers. “Hanzo, we may have to make another one to even the amount.”

    “No, my love. I am only going to have one, maybe two. I want you to eat the rest so you are eating enough.”

    “Hanzo,” Kuai muttered as he felt the love and care from his love. “Are you sure?”

    “I am.” Hanzo set down some bell peppers and carrots on the counter in front of Kuai’s cutting board. “Now please, help me chop the vegetables. You seem to have quite an abundance of peppers.”

    Kuai took a few peppers, and with a new knife began to cut them. “General Blade warned us the harvest would be plentiful that shipment.”

    “You do know if you ever need produce, I can supply you with some, right? My temple has a garden with plenty of vegetables.”

    “Indeed, but I do not want to take from your supply for ours.”

    “Our clans are allies, Kuai. We must help each other.”

    “I cannot disagree with that, but I do want you to take care of your clan.”

    “Just as I take care of you?” Hanzo teased as he leaned in to kiss Kuai’s cheek, then continued on to set up the grilling process of their food.

    “I have no idea what you are talking about.” Despite how deadpan his tone was, he was very clearly joking. “But of yourself, what made you so restless tonight?”

    Hanzo closed his eyes for a moment and sighed deeply. “Nightmares, I suppose.”

    Kuai frowned with deep sorrow for Hanzo. “I am sorry to hear that.” He knew that they both suffered deeply from trauma, from all the fighting, protecting Earthrealm, their past feud, their own hardships through life and death as revenant and wraith, and their losses through time. They really had gone through it all, and then some. Nightmares were just a side effect of the trauma, one they both suffered from, sometimes together. “Did you need to talk about it?”

    Hanzo thought about talking about it, but shook his head. “Not this time, thank you.”

    “Very well then.” Kuai gave Hanzo a tight hug from behind and sighed. “Regardless, I am always happy to be here to help you, and I am glad you have come over here for comfort. I will always welcome you here, my love.”

    “Thank you, my snowflake…” Hanzo did straighten himself from his vulnerable position, and instead began to help Kuai put the meat and vegetables onto the skewers so they could grill them.

    “I almost dare to ask if you can cook those yourself, but alas you had already set up the grill.”

    “You seem to have an affinity for my hellfires cooking your food.”

    Kuai smiled. “It leaves a taste of love.”

    “You are a sap.” But of course, it was one of the traits Hanzo loved about Kuai.

    As their food cooked, the tea had successfully boiled. Kuai began to place the chamomile tea bags in, to turn it into tea. That was when a horrible pun came to mind. “Hanzo, how do you make holy water?”

    “I would not know.”

    “You boil the hell out of it.” That cheeky smirk again that showed the self-proclaimed pun-master was proud of another crack of a joke. Of course, it was always adorable, the way Kuai actually thought these puns were humorous.

    Typically Hanzo didn’t like puns, they were cheesy and cheap, but Kuai was the only person allowed to make puns. He shook his head with a small touch of a smile. “You are adorable, Kuai.”

    “I take pride in being the only one allowed to make puns around you.”

    “Good. Though I still would not have thought of you to be the one to make such jokes.”

    “Cage may have had a slight influence.” Kuai Liang gently touched along Hanzo’s forearm with his cold finger tips. “It’s easy to make puns when you’re as cool as I am.”

    Hanzo huffed a small snicker. “You are certainly cooler than Johnny Cage, I will give you that. ”

    “How generous of you, Hanzo.”

    “I can say plenty more nice things about you, my dear snowflake.”

    “And I, about you.” While the chamomile tea was finishing boiling into the water, Kuai grabbed a lemon from the fridge to chop it in half. A strong squeeze poured lemon juice right out of the lemon and into the tea kettle where it boiled into the tea, then back into the fridge it went when it was no longer of use. Next was the honey, which he had to retrieve from a jar within the pantry. As he set the jar down, he looked over at Hanzo. “You know,” Already Hnazo knew a pun was about to come, it was that damn set up. “I’m not sure if honey is needed in this, since you’re already ‘sweet’ enough.”

     Okay, that pun may have got Hanzo blushing lightly again. “Yes… Well… Not as sweet as you.” Oh Hanzo, bashful at sweet praises, just as he had been with his wife a very long time ago. He tried to carry on, returning to the task at hand. He took the skewers off the grill and set them down onto a plate. With the tea finishing just in time, Kuai poured them both a cup, and the settled at one of the kitchen’s islands to consume.

    Together they ate and drank their teas, discussing their lives and what they had been up to. Kuai had plenty of new stories about his dragons, and the ghosts he’d been noticing at the temple. Hanzo spoke of his students, the gardens’ new blooms, and a new training regiment he had started. But what they both had in common was missing each other. Kuai could fly over on his dragon any time, Hanzo could hellport any time, but alas it was about their scheduling. They missed each other deeply, they missed each other’s quips, touches, shared pain and healing and comfort, each other’s languages of love. All of it. They were both Grandmasters of their own clans just wanting to forget about the world to be with each other.

     Which eventually led Hanzo and Kuai in front of the door of the Grandmaster's bedroom. Initially it had just been to walk him there, and Hanzo had planned on leaving to return to his own temple, but Kuai pulled Hanzo in as he entered his room. "You should stay the night here, Hanzo. I think the both of us could use a night together."

     "I should return to my temple, I do not want to be leaving my students without word of where I am."

     "My dear, they know of our love, and they know you have slept here before. They will take the hint in the morning when you return."

     "I suppose. I just worry if something is going to happen while I am gone."

     Now Kuai realized what Hanzo's nightmares were about, what caused his restlessness. He was having nightmares of losing his clan once again. He was having those traumatic memories of losing them before. Kuai Liang sighed. "I will not force you to stay here or there. But I promise you, they will be okay. I understand your fears, as a Grandmaster myself. When I leave, I get worried my clan will be attacked and slain. We worry because we care, and we care for them as deeply as we should be. But alongside care, we must provide them with trust. We must be able to trust that they can fight for themselves and protect each other, should they be attacked. I know your students will be safe, because they have been taught by the greatest warrior I have ever fought in my whole life. Nobody compares to you, Hanzo.” Hanzo reflected on Kuai’s words. Funny, he felt the same way, that Kuai was his toughest opponent, so surely the Lin Kuei must be great, too. “And as well, Hanzo, I’m unsure if you noticed but one of my students is at your temple for the night. We’re not the only ones visiting each other. Should anything go wrong, I’m more than certain she’d come home to alert us.”

     “I was unaware of your student staying at my temple. That does help to know, I suppose... But you are correct in your words, I need to give them trust that they can protect themselves.” Hanzo looked at Kuai’s large bed, noticing one more blanket on the bed than before, and a rather thick one, too. A significant difference that warmed his heart. It meant Kuai was seeking warmth in his sleep, attempting to reach the same warmth of the pyromancer. “It seems I should sleep with you tonight anyway,” He noted as he lifted the blanket.

     “I find myself sleeping better with a bit of warmth, it reminds me of you,” Kuai confessed as he sat down on his own bed.

     “I find myself needing at least a fan on when I sleep,” Hanzo also confessed. “The cold grounds me when I start to get too nervous.”

     “We truly do complete each other.”

     Hanzo began to start taking off his own clothes, as well as leaving behind his weapons all onto a neat pile on the floor close to the bed, so Hanzo may retrieve them in the morning. Then he got in bed with Kuai, and as he got comfortable Kuai was already holding him, admiring the natural warmth of Hanzo rather than the blanket.

     “Do you feel well enough to sleep again, Hanzo?” Kauai asked.

     Hanzo nodded. “I think I do.”

     “Good, I’m glad.” Kauai closed his eyes with a sigh, and started to feel himself drift to sleep. “Sleep well, Hanzo. Wake me up if you need anything, I won’t mind.”

     “And I hope you sleep well, too.” Hanzo hesitantly closed his own eyes. And together, in each other’s arms, in each other’s elements, they both fell asleep together.

[kryativelogos]

The Young Six's Elements

Hi hello! Since MLP G5 is coming out soon, I thought it’d be fun to explore and discuss the Young Six’s elements from G4! This may or may not be long based on how you look at it. I would also say spoilers but guys, this show ended nearly 3 years ago.

Let’s get something right off the bat, these elements will be different from the Mane 6′s for two reasons: (1) the Pillars had different elements from the Mane 6 which leads me to believe they are stemmed from one another but not 100% identical and (2) that based on the colors from S8E26 when they pulled out the artifacts, Gallus isn’t- magical, not in the old-fashioned way that Twilight or Starswirl is at least. So I will be coming up with “new” elements that encompass the Young Six’s character while staying true to their predecessors. I also want to focus on the idea that each of these groups had an underlying goal, the Pillars were protecting a ‘primitive’ time for ponies, while the Mane Six were focusing on relationships between ponies and later extending out to other species. I want to believe that the Young Six’s goal would be to strengthen relationships between different species and unifying them under friendship based on how they’re all different species themselves and are connected to the rulers somehow.

Gallus - Guidance Gallus glowed purple, which means he is most closely related to Twilight (Magic) and Starswirl (Sorcery). Which might not make much sense here since again, while he is considered a magical creature, most creatures in the MLP universe are considered as such (and honestly the definition of what is and isn’t a magical creature is a completely different discussion all on it’s own). But because Twilight’s strongest magic is ✨The Magic of Friendship✨ I’m going to run with that. In S8E22 Gallus’ fear was being closed in / tight spaces, which I personally believe this to be physically closed in but also metaphorically closed off from people around him. In S8E15 Gallus explains that there really isn’t much of a family at home and that he really believes he found his family in the Young Six. So I picture him as both the leader of the Young Six because of Twilight’s and Starswirl’s own status of their groups and also that he values family the most. I want to also add that in the future (S9E26), he also becomes a guard for Twilight’s Kingdom. I believe that because of this, Gallus is basically ‘the head of the family.’ He is the supporter, the protector, and therefore is the one that would want to guide and help others around him to the best of his abilities. He even showed this while helping Silverstream conquer her own fears in S8E22. Gallus is the element of Guidance because while every-creature is capable of learning and making mistakes on their own, having someone there to help and just support them is always something nice.

Ocellus - Inspiration Ocellus glowed white, therefore closest to Mistmane (Beauty) and Rarity (Generosity). Ocellus’ fear (S8E22) was being feared again - as a species - and being “ugly and hideous” because she looked like Queen Chrysalis. However, the beauty Mistmane represents is not skin-deep, it’s the beauty within a person and Ocellus learns to love herself as a ‘reformed’ changeling - you can see this in S8E1 when she tries to pretend to be a dragon and pony to blend in and learning to just be herself and share her talent to help in the best way possible (see S8E2 + E9 at least). Her generosity comes from her love of learning and studying, giving her time and love to help the other students study and share the information she learns with others (S8E22). I see this as almost being a mentor or tutor, and giving your time for others is the greatest form of generosity in my opinion. This is why I believe Ocellus’ element would be Inspiration because as a changeling she is inspiring others through teachings and also sharing her past with others, and potentially shapeshifting into other creatures to show them all what they can be.

Silverstream - Curiosity I think Silverstream’s might just be the easiest one to explain. She shares characteristics of Laughter (Pinkie Pie) and Hope (Somnambula). Silverstream's past involves the Storm King and hid all her life underwater, so the problem here is she doesn't know anything above the water until the King's defeat (see MLP: the Movie). So when she is above the surface, she's constantly interested in everything (see S8E22 where she gets excited over plumbing) and wants to learn about everything. She gets excited over everything (see S8E2 for excitement over stairs) and this is a really good tie into laughter as part of her core characterization. Hope is also a really indicator for Silverstream because she and the rest of the hippogriffs really believed that staying underwater was the safest way to keep from the Storm King's rule. It wasn't until his defeat did the hippogriffs ever had a sense of hope of being able to live back on land. Curiosity is Silverstream's element because of her desire to learn.

Yona - Courage Yona is honest (AJ) and strong (Rockhoof), we didn't even need to know her elemental predecessors to know that. However, while her development as a character really isn't all that deep, we do see a softer side is S8E22 and S9E7. In S8E22, Yona can be seen terrified of spiders, but instead of just conquering her fear by smashing the spiders, she takes that extra step to befriend them instead, asking them for help to get out of her current situation. In S9E7, Yona is worried about embarrassing Sand Bar at a dance (I can't remember the name of the event sorry). She goes out of her way to learn everything 'the pony way' so she can fit in better. While this whole thing makes sense, it strips away Yona's identity of being a yak and that the dance was adapted to suit all creature. It takes real courage to step out of your comfort zone to change for someone, but also more so to just be yourself. Seeing that in Yona in both scenarios and also seeing how she can admit that she's scared of flying/falling (S8E1/2?) takes real courage. Because of her honesty, I think she wouldn't be afraid to speak her mind - or hesitate - and in that sense can also be quite courageous especially if it's something they don't want to hear (see basically every episode where there are consequences to not telling the truth). It takes courage to step out of the comfort zone and I think Yona really encompasses this idea.

Smolder - Integrity You may be wondering: Yona and Smolder have their elements backwards! Not quite, and here's why: Smolder's elemental predecessors are Flash Magnus (Bravery) and Rainbow Dash (Loyalty). I think it was a fun addition how her element is strongly tied to dragons (see S7E16) since the beginning and it's a nice touch. Smolder is the roughest of all six members and while she shares a lot of personality traits with Rainbow Dash (like being cool) she's also very honest with herself. In S8E22, Smolder's fear isn't really a fear and more of a wake-up call to herself. She likes cutesy things. She admits it and even joins the cheerleading team which is considered a more feminine sport (S9E15). I think it's really interesting how she also evokes characters to be more true to themselves such as Garble (S9E9) and even Rainbow Dash (S9E15). With these ideas in mind, I think Smolder's element is integrity for the sole reason that she is just really good at making people realize that there is no reason not to be true to yourself. She sees how other creatures perceive dragons, and does her best to allow characters like Spike and Garble be the dragons they want to be (liking pony-things like sewing and pillows S2E21 and S9E9 for Spike and slam poetry for Garble S9E9). How these tie to her predecessors is as such: it's brave to be yourself in a world (or in this case, species) that may not appreciate the full you, and it takes a loyalty to stand by your side while you admit to yourself who you truly are.

Sand Bar - Patience Finally, we have Sand Bar. Sand Bar was the hardest and yet easiest of the six to come up with an element. He has the least character development and also not a lot of personality aside from being very chill and being a really good ally to the other creatures. Because of this, I think he is the element of patience. His predecessors are Healing (Meadow Brook) and Kindness (Fluttershy), and both are key in being patient. This pony took his time with the other creatures, sharing his culture and making them feel welcome. He went out of his way to find Yona and listened to her, making her feel better by letting her know how he felt (S9E7). It was interesting to see the juxtaposition between Yona and Sand Bar, since Yona is very impulsive while Sand Bar is a 'go-with-the-flow' type pony and this just confirmed the idea that he is very patient, especially if he [romantically] likes Yona of all creatures. Aside from that though, there isn't many other eps I can reference that can support this decision. FINAL THOUGHTS--- So with everything said and explained, overall I think these elements are really necessary for both friendships but also could be helpful for them to be ambassadors or something along those lines to their kingdoms or go around helping stop feuds among kingdoms. The idea that these elements could be used to stop evil through artifacts is also something that could be further explored into although there's not much I could look into since there wasn't much information about all of them to begin with. One final thing, this is all just my interpretation and obviously can be up for debate, I only ask that if you do want to counter or even bring more evidence to the table that you do it kindly. I thought about this for a long time and tried my best to provide references as much as possible, so please respect that! Other than that, thank you for reading up to this point, I hope you enjoyed it and maybe sparked some conversations!

[madlymiho]

Since the first didn't get through, I'll try from my PC this time. Again, thank you for co-hosting this event. Can I get a Scenario with Issho and his s/o enjoying the christmas-decoration in a port and she just can't stop describing everything to him (how beautiful everything is under the soft snow and with the lights) because he can't see it and she wants him to enjoy it as well?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!! 😱 I honestly fell in love with the wholesome emotions of this request! 🙈 I'm happy to write about Fujitora, because that blind man deserves so much happiness 🥺 I hope this little scenario will suit you! ☺️

Winter Event #2

Words: 1444

Informations: fluff - gender neutral s/o

In your Eyes

The meeting couldn’t have been better, the harbor quite well decorated at this time of the year, the air filled with numerous scents you’re honestly unable to count. Rare are the occasions when you are able to enjoy a bit of Issho’s time, your man busy of course, and always wandering here and there between Grand Line and the New World to fulfill his duty. You know how it’s important for him, somehow to find his own place in the Navy, despite his apparent strength and his obvious intelligence skills to command the soldiers of the Government. It’s never easy to reach such a high post without having to deal with some inner trust issues from time to time, especially in such a chotic world, always in motion. Both of you believe in the mission of Issho, but as you gave him this invitation, you truly expected he would actually put aside his duty for once and clear his schedule, to finally enjoy a bit of well-deserved rest. Being under the command of Sakazuki is definitely not the easiest job in the world.

Breathing some warm air in your cupped hands, you eventually hear a rather explicit hubbub among the crowd, the tall figure of Issho appearing in the middle of the couples, the children, and the busy merchants. Of course, they are all surprised to see such a high commander of the Navy wandering in the streets of their cozy harbor. A smile curls the corner of your lips as you immediately jump back on your feet, crossing the distance to meet him half way. As always, you make sure not to enter his personal space too quickly, his perception of the world honestly different from yours, since you have eyes to see, and his only has other senses to know you’re around.

“I’m here, Issho.” You murmur with an audible voice, even if you know you really don’t have to yell that much, despite the general noisy atmosphere. It has always been your way to greet him.

He offers you a content smile, always discreet, his hand gripping his baton to keep his balance, as he eventually comes closer, his other fingers cupping your shoulder. Intimate gestures aren’t a thing he particularly display in public, but the very fact he’s here, with you, is enough to make him feel at ease. He raises his chin up, intrigued with the sound of flapping wings above his head, as you definitely notice the frown on his features.

“Seagulls are probably looking for some food at that time of the day, and they are brave enough to fight the cold.” You state with a cheerful voice, placing yourself at his side, before you wrap your arm around his. You won’t necessarily guide him, he doesn’t need it, yet you also know that he appreciates when you take the time the describe the way you see the world when you’re both walking side by side. “It’s busy today. I think we’ll have plenty to do.”

He nods, his quiet attitude always pleasant and contrasting in the middle of such a busy crowd, people thrilled and talkative, eager to discover all the new shops on the streets and the various activities offered by the harbor. Issho begins to walk, as you cautiously lead him to whatever destination who would both pick.

“I smell… Sweets.” Issho comments after a moment, stopping in front of a wooden stall. “Can you tell me what they are selling here? I know this isn’t reasonable, but perhaps there’s something we both would like to buy”.

“Aye!” You happily smile, and pulls on his arm to bring him closer, kind people immediately stepping aside, quite surprised to see a navy admiral around, making him some room as a sign of respect. “Well… Apparently, they have ginger cookies here, fresh made waffles or crepes with brown sugar and different toppings such as melted chocolate, fruits, or marshmallows! You can also pick candies; they have candy canes, candy apples…”

Issho listens carefully, more amazed with the sound of your voice, almost chirping, than the quantity of sweets displayed on the market place. He doesn’t necessarily wish to eat something, but he loves the way you sell those products with the most excited voice, as a child would describe a firework.

“Would you like a free sample, admiral?” The shop owner offers, and immediately begins to gather a few items from their stall, stuffing a paper bag with various candies to eat on their walk, quite content to see such an important man stopping in front of his shop.  

Issho eventually accepts, bowing slightly to thank the man, as they both decide to keep going, the line behind them full of children, all so eager to use their berries to buy a few candies while their parents wouldn’t be too careful regarding the amount of sugar they are ingesting. You eventually leads him back in the middle of the alley, as you notice how intrigued he seems to be. You find it somehow adorable, Issho always amazed by the world surrounding him, and finding beauty in the little details someone wouldn’t even see.

“The street…” You begin to talk, because you wish to tell him everything, and share your eyes, even if it only comes with your words. “The whole harbor is decorated with shiny tinsels; they are all rolled around the light posts, falling like stalactites. It looks like ice stars falling in long drops, reflecting on the buildings behind them, giving the area such a heavenly look that it seems to be a dream.” You pause for a second, before you eventually look elsewhere. “All the ships anchored here have candles on the rail surrounding their decks, with mistletoe and holly attached to their windows, and most of the captains have opened their gates, offering tours to children if they ever wish to see how it looks inside a navy ship.”

Issho nods, silent, as usual, but listening careful to your words.

“There are so many stalls in front of the ships and the usual shops that I can’t even count them. All of them are so beautifully decorated, with angels and other items such as snowballs, starts and little imps, homemade crowns with pine branches, pinecones, and ribbons. Some of them are golden, silver, or red…” You can’t help but think that it’s quite a marvelous show, and it’s a shame Issho can’t properly enjoy all the lights of this beautiful place. “I can’t even tell you all the things they are selling as well. Homemade wooden angels, surprise gifts boxes, crafted wooden toys and figurines, fortune cards, candies, foods, spicy hot wine, bottle of various alcohol and wines, gingerbreads, biscuits, cakes in so many shapes, candles, and bouquet of winter flowers…”

He smiles to the more than detailed description, and eventually turns around, his closed eyes almost looking at your features, as you can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed. You really sounded like a child for a few seconds, didn’t you.

“And you, Name,” he says with his usual quiet and appeasing voice. “What kind of gift would you like to have? It seems they have all worked hard to please their customers. I wish to find something which will always make you forever smile the way you’re smiling right now.”

“Honestly?” You immediately answer, the two of you standing in the middle of the street, Christmas Lights surrounding you like the softest wings. “I only need one thing, Issho.” You pause, your hand gently caressing the top of his forearm. “I only need to spend more Christmas like this, with you.”

You thought he would find it silly, perhaps even immature for someone so old and serious. Even though, Issho just kindly cups your cheek, his large thumb describing a small circle on your skin, as he offers you a discreet grin. You feel your heart pounding harder to this beautiful vision, his soft and intimate gesture so unexpected and yet so heartwarming.

“And I wish you keep describing the harbor during Christmas time.” He confirms, his own way to pronounce those words a timid person would have a hard time to express.

Smiling like two idiots, you eventually pull on his sleeve to drag him further in the middle of the Christmas Market, feeling on cloud nine, as you know that you found within Issho the anchor you needed. The two of you would forever remember that day, your completely intimate little bubble filled with many emotions, lucky, for sure, that you have been able to find each other in the middle of this raging storm and those desperate wars.  

[hyuniebaby]

Fractions (1)

GIF originally posted by chanshine

Pairings: Minseok x Y/N

AU: Soulmate AU

Inspired by this tweet:

A/N: I’ve had this in my drafts for over a month now but I still haven’t finished writing it yet so I decided to cut it in half instead of posting it in one go. 😅 I didn’t even proofread it because it made me anxious for whatever reason. Now please excuse me while I hide after I post this. 🙈 I hope you enjoy this...

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

When you were younger, you’ve always dreamed of being married to your soulmate. Your parents were soulmates and having seen how they deeply loved each other growing up, it made you want to have the same thing they did.

You recall coming home from school one time with a skip on your steps. When your parents asked you how your day went, you gave them a toothy smile and exclaimed, “I learned about fractions today! My teacher said that if you divide something into equal parts, each part is a fraction of the whole.”

Your mother smiled at your enthusiasm. At that moment, as she heard you explain what you learned, she knew you were going to grow up to be a wise lady.

“Mom, Dad, do you know fractions?” You ask cheekily, back then you thought they didn’t know it because you’ve never heard them mention the word.

“Of course, darling,” your father scrunches his nose at you, a hint of smile in his lips.

“Can you give me an example, Daddy?”

He pauses, thinking deeply. He turns his head away from you and looks at your mother’s eyes, “Your mom and I, we’re two halves of one soul.”

You watched as they looked at each other with sparkling eyes and warm smiles.

“Why are you smiling? Did I miss something? Was it a joke? I don’t understand,” you whine. “I don’t think you’re talking about fractions, Daddy.”

“You’ll understand when you’re older, darling.”

And he was right. When you grew up, you understood what he meant, theoretically, at least. He was talking about soulmates.

You found out about it from your best friend Jess. You were still young back then, maybe around twelve years old. Her parents told her that they were soulmates when she saw that her mother’s skin on her arm was glowing. Her mother preferred wearing t-shirts and long sleeved blouses rather than sleeveless clothes which was why Jess hadn’t noticed it before. Her parents explained that when you meet your soulmate a part of your skin lights up in daylight and glows even brighter in the dark.

When you got home that day, you remember immediately walking up to your parents to ask them if they were soulmates. They were startled by your question at first, but gave you a gentle smile. “Yes we are, darling,” your mother confirms.

That night you learned that the patch of skin that shines when you meet your soulmate is called the soulmate mark. But most people initially called it an “invisible tattoo” because it was the easiest way to describe it. It was like a tattoo in a sense, because it was a permanent kind of body art, except that you were born with it instead of having a tattoo artist injecting ink on your skin.

Each soulmate has distinct patterns on their skin and they have it at the exactly the same location. Your parents’ tattoo was like a very intricate design of leaves located just a few inches above their hips. When your mother showed you her glowing tattoo, you couldn’t help but gawk at it as you gently ran your fingers over it.

It was then that you realized why your parents were perfect for each other. Whatever your father lacks, your mother makes up for it. They complemented each other. They told you that was how soulmates work, that everything falls into place as you meet them. They were two halves of one soul.

That was how you got really excited about weddings, not just normal weddings, weddings of soulmates to be exact. It was the reason why you were close to tears right now as you heard the priest say, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Your breath hitched and you placed your hands over your heart. You were so overwhelmed with happiness. You couldn’t close your eyes, if you did, tears would start to fall and you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to ruin your makeup.

You watch as Jess smiles adoringly at Chanyeol before they both leaned in for a kiss. You were extremely happy for Jess. Chanyeol is a nice man, and a romantic one at that. When you first met him, you knew he was Jess’s ideal man and when you introduced them to each other you were shocked to know that they were actually soulmates.

You couldn’t imagine how Jess must be feeling. This was Jess’s dream too, to marry her soulmate. You wonder how she managed not to cry while you were barely holding your tears.

You look over the other guests. Their reactions were similar to yours which made your heart swell. You were glad the couple were surrounded with people who love and care for them.

Your eyes meet with your friend, Yixing, and you both smile at each other and wave. You and Yixing became friends when you were in high school. He’s heard you daydream about meeting your soulmate a million times already so he knew that you were also feeling a bit sad deep down, despite your joy for Jess. You knew too that he felt the same. You were both in your 30s and you both haven’t met your soulmates yet after all.

When the wedding and the reception was over, you bid Jess goodbye and congratulated her once again. You wished Chanyeol and her to live a happy life together. Jess pulled you into a hug and whispered, “You’ll find him too. Don’t worry,” as if knowing what’s plaguing your mind.

You smiled and nodded, although you weren’t sure if what she said was true. It was uncommon for people to meet their soulmates beyond 30 years old after all. What’s more uncommon is if one doesn’t have a soulmate. Just the thought of not having a soulmate made your heart ache terribly.

Yixing, oh sweet Yixing, suggested one time that if you both haven’t met your soulmates by the age of 35, you should just get married with each other. You agreed instantly, you didn’t want to end up being alone for the rest of your life. At least, you had Yixing who you knew would treat you right if you did get married with each other.

But fate was cruel. On his 34th birthday party which you planned, he met his soulmate, Diane. She was Jongin’s cousin who worked in China. She flew home to Korea to visit her family after years of working overseas.

How timely it was that Jongin brought her to Yixing’s party claiming that she needs to expand her social circle.

When Jongin introduced her to Yixing, you saw how they both froze. You wondered if it was true that you’d feel a slight buzz in your body once you find your soulmate. Out of nowhere, Diane and Yixing’s left elbows shined. You watched with amazement and slight sadness as four seemingly interconnected circles appeared glowing on their skin.

You had to admit, despite the bitterness on the tip of your tongue, it was truly breathtaking to watch the invisible tattoo come to life. It was magical to watch your skin shimmer and take form into something beautiful — all because of love. Maybe this was why the expression “You’re glowing” is said when you meet someone who treats you right.

With Yixing finding his soulmate, you felt lonely. Among your friends, you were the only one left without a soulmate. But Yixing finding his other half at such an age did give you a small flame of hope. That small flame was enough to make you happy, so when you got to talk to Yixing again, you congratulated him sincerely. But you could sense his worry as soon as the words left your mouth. He didn’t have to voice his thoughts, you knew well enough what he wanted to say.

You smiled at him. He truly is the sweetest person. “I’m fine Yixing, I really am. It rarely happens that you meet your soulmate when you’re more than 30 years old, but it happened to you. I have a feeling it’s gonna happen to me too.”

Yixing knows you’re a pessimist so he naturally gets worried about you, but today, he knew you weren’t lying when you said those words. He was glad you were being optimistic for once. “I know it’ll happen soon, darling. I have a good feeling about it too.”

That was enough for you. Yixing doesn’t lie and the fact that he believes you’ll find your soulmate flares up the hope you were feeling.

As much as you wanted to spend your time finding your soulmate, you have to work too. The previous company that you worked at unfortunately closed down. So you didn’t have a choice but to go look for a new job.

The company you’ve always dreamt to work at was EXO Pharmaceutical Company but it was a highly competitive company and when you applied back then, you lacked the credentials. You’ve been building up your resume and your credibility with seminars and training from your previous work, so this time you were really hoping to get the job. You just have to impress everyone there.

When you got a call from Jongdae, the HR personnel, saying you got the job, you were beyond ecstatic. You couldn’t help but jump around and scream as soon as the call ended. You called your parents informing them of your good news. You were close to tears as you heard them say that they were proud of you and the woman you became.

Just before you ended the call you father whispered, “We’re three parts of a whole.”

This made your heart melt. To you what he said was loud and clear: You don’t need another man to make you feel whole because you have us – your family. With that, your worries on whether or not you find your soulmate is gone.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was your first day of work at EXO and you were really nervous. Junmyeon was assigned to help you familiarize yourself with the workplace and to guide you on what to do. When he first introduced himself to you, your breath hitched and your heart started thumping faster. Was he your soulmate? But then you notice that he had a glowing tattoo on his wrist when he offered his hand to shake and yours didn’t.

You felt embarrassed. This has happened a lot of times to you. You often mistake people as your soulmate. People had different descriptions on what they felt when they first met their soulmates so sometimes when you find someone overly attractive that it makes you nervous, just like Junmyeon, you get confused if that person was your soulmate or not.

You quickly push your momentary attraction aside because it felt wrong. Sure you were free to think some men are good looking but somehow you felt like you were cheating on your soulmate if you think of other men that way. What a hopeless romantic.

You clear your throat and greet Junmyeon warmly. He then guides you to your workplace. He points and names which equipment you’ll be handling. He teaches you how to handle the machinery and equipment. You were a fast learner and have handled almost the same equipment before so by lunch time, you were able to do things by yourself.

“Thank you for your help, Junmyeon.”

“No problem! Come on, let’s grab some lunch with the others,” he smiles at you. “The CEO wants to meet you later, by the way.”

This made you freeze. The CEO of the previous company you worked at never once visited you or asked to meet you. You’ve only ever seen him when there was a company event. So this was something that you weren’t familiar with. What if he sees something in you that he dislikes or asks something that you don’t know the answer to? Sure you just got the job, but he can fire you on the spot, no? You pale.

Junmyeon notices your panicked state and immediately says, “Hey, don’t worry. Mr. Kim is really nice. Although he does have an intimidating aura but that's just the CEO vibes,” he shrugs. “It’s customary for him to greet his new employees. I’m sure you’ll be fine as long as you’re polite.”

Junmyeon has a warm smile and a soothing voice, it did help a little in alleviating your nerves but you still couldn’t help but think of the worst. With a sigh you just nodded your head then plastered a smile.

Lunch with your coworkers was fun. You may have forgotten about meeting the CEO as soon as they graced you with their presence. Baekhyun, Sehun, Kyungsoo, and Junmyeon were all fun to be with. Mostly it was Junmyeon and Baekhyun who talked a lot while the rest of you listened and laughed. It was nice to have people welcome you so warmly.

You weren’t used to talking a lot and you mostly kept to yourself when you’re in a new environment so this was quite different than what you’re used to. Different in a good way.

By the end of lunch, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief that you successfully made friends just on your first day at work.

As you were walking back towards your workplace, Baekhyun assured you that you didn’t need to worry about meeting Mr. Kim — the CEO. If Junmyeon liked you, then Mr. Kim would too. Apparently they were cousins.

You don’t really know if Baekhyun was lying, it was after all the first day you’ve known him. But his face was wiped off of mischief and the tone he used was comforting, so you found yourself believing him.

You were in high spirits when Mr. Kim’s secretary came to call you. But even when you weren’t as nervous as before and definitely less worried, your palms were sweating.

The secretary, Ms. Moon noticed you kept fidgeting, although, you swear to god you were trying to be subtle. She gives you a smile and says, “You don’t have to worry.”

You cringe internally. You’ve been awfully bad at hiding your nervousness today.

“Mr. Kim is really nice. Just be polite and professional.”

You nod your head and compose yourself.

“You ready?” She asks.

“Yes Ma’am.” You say as you rub your palms over your pants for the last time. You immediately put on a smile.

She knocks on the door, “Mr. Kim, Ms. Y/L/N is here.”

“Let her in.”

You entered the office with a smile on your face. Mr. Kim was still busy signing papers so he hasn’t looked up to you yet.

You stood in front of his desk, not really knowing what to do. Your heart was pounding so fast, you wanted to make a good first impression so badly.

It didn’t take too long though, after a second he has plastered a smile even before he looks up. When he finally turned his face to you, everything felt like they were moving in slow motion. You couldn’t even hear the clock ticking anymore. You freeze.

Mr. Kim is gorgeous. If Junmyeon made your breath hitch, Mr. Kim took your breath away. It was impossible, but you felt like your heart was pounding ten times faster than before.

Mr. Kim didn’t move. The smile on his face falters a little. You wouldn’t even notice it if you weren’t staring at him.

It felt like you were both staring at each other's eyes for an hour when in reality it was just one hot minute.

Mr. Kim was the first to break off from the trance. He clears his throat and smiles wider, “You must be Ms. Y/L/N. I’m Kim Minseok, CEO of EXO Pharmaceutical Company.” He offers his right hand to shake.

You return a smile and look over to his hand and shake it. As you raised your hand, your eyes focused on the back of his hand that was glowing. From the tip of his ring finger to his wrist lay a pattern of flowers. The pattern seemed to have surrounded his wrist too. It was beautiful and you were mesmerized. You unconsciously stopped moving to stare at it in awe.

Unbeknownst to you, Mr. Kim was observing you too. But when it took you a tad bit long to reach for his hand, he tears his gaze away from your face reluctantly. His eyes trail to his right hand which you were looking at. His eyes widened at the sight. He was quite sure the soulmate mark wasn’t there before. Which only meant one thing…

You. You were his soulmate. He was yours.

You realize that you were staring and so you straighten your back and reach for his hand. “I-I’m sorry—” but you stop in the middle of your sentence when your hand finally touches his.

There was a tingling sensation when it happened. You knew you weren’t imagining it because you felt Mr. Kim jolted slightly.

After the initial shock, Mr. Kim tightens his hold on your hand as he shakes it. You firmly shake his hand in return.

You clear your throat, “I’m sorry… for... zoning out, Mr. Kim,” you face down. You felt all your blood rush to your face in embarrassment.

Mr. Kim doesn’t respond. When you looked up, you noticed he was staring at your hands. He was still holding your hand and you didn’t know if you wanted to retract it at all. His hands were warm and soft.

But then you suddenly remembered that he was the CEO, he was your boss. So you carefully removed your hand from his grip.

That’s when you saw it. The back of your hand was glowing, exactly the same pattern and position as Mr. Kim’s. You almost gasped.

You closed your eyes really quickly and tried to compose yourself. Internally, you were screaming and jumping, but you have to suppress your emotions. It was highly unprofessional.

[rainbowsky]

Final round-up of fan fic asks

I've gotten a few more interesting responses to the fan fic discussion so I'm going to round them all up here. This will be my final post on the topic until/unless there's a dramatic new development, or a particularly notable response I want to highlight. Thanks to everyone who brought their thoughts and experiences to the topic. I hope everyone at least feels heard.

The biggest piece of advice that I would like to offer is for everyone to focus on what they love rather than what they hate. If we all did that, the world would be a better place. Alongside that, I'd like to remind everyone to please support authors whose work you like. It's so important. Give them a kudos, give them a nice comment, recommend their work to others. You never know what kind of grief and harassment they are dealing with to bring you these great stories, and our support means a lot.

This is in reference to previous posts here and here.

Anonymous asked:

With regard to fandom and fan fic issue, my years of experience being part of very large fandoms has led me to believe that big accounts are v important in facilitating and enforcing the general consensus of the whole fandom. Unless there will be big accs who'll remind everyone of being respectful & just not being a dick over other's preferences, nothing will change.

This is also the reason why I think certain solo fandoms have adapted weird and twisted narratives as their general fandom story because no big acc has tried to police them & and say hey pls be rational. Whether we like it or not, in a place where how far voices, ideas, tweets, posts get heard is based on the number of followers you have, big accs will have the power and influence in creating/curating/shifting the narratives.

So, if you want to know why your/our fandom thinks like this in general, look at what big accs are tweeting/posting, look at what ideas & values they follow, look at their preferences or how strongly they react to certain situations. it's taxing and toxic for big accs given the nature of social media these days, but it's also the reality of system, the more followers/audience you have, the more influence you will have.

So to anyone reading this I hope we all practice more restraint and reflection before we post anything. Remember that words, no matter what medium you write it in, will always carry weight.

So true. It is easy - even for myself who spends a fair chunk of time answering people's asks - to forget that people can sometimes be impressionable and what we say can influence people whether that's our intent or not. I get used to thinking of myself as a regular guy just doing my own thing when sometimes my thoughts and words go well beyond where I initially posted them.

I think it's important for us to be careful what we say, and it's equally important to be careful what we take from what other people say. Especially when it comes to big claims. Always get a second, third, fourth opinion and don't be afraid to ask for clarification if something doesn't sit right or sounds confusing.

It's also important to reflect on how our words and actions might affect other people's experience of fandom, and err on the side of 'live and let live' wherever possible. It's great to have our own preferences and to champion them, but we should try to do so in a way that leaves space for other people and perspectives.

The more unique perspectives and the more friendly, open dialog there is, the healthier the community will be as a whole.

There's nothing wrong with encouraging and guiding growth in the particular areas we are interested in, as long as it doesn't step on, oppress or attack those who are peacefully enjoying something different.

Anonymous 2 asked: bjyx fans attacking gdgdbaby for including zsww/lsfy dynamics in an event named bjyx then turning right around and attacking the zsww/lsfy event organizer for excluding bjyx? god, can you hear my facepalm and sigh of resignation and incredulity from over there? im genuinely not surprised that they're trying to drive an entire part of the fandom out by disgusting them (and me) with these immature tactics. i believe what im about to say next will sound quite bait-y and i respect your decision 1/?

should you choose not to post this. but i do know that it is not only me, in fact there are many out there, that is of this opinion. we just dont talk about it on twitter to avoid the potential mess it will bring lol. okay, here goes nothing. (do note that im talking about the majority here, not every single person is like this) so bjyx fans tend to be cishet females whereas zsww/lsfy fans are more diverse in terms of age and gender, and most of them are part of the queer community too 2/?

i would like to clarify that most of these zsww/lsfy fans are not dynamic exclusive (in the sense that they are friendly and interact with all ggdd fans) they just prefer to "identify" themselves as zsww/lsfy fans (on twitter specifically) just to form a distinction from bjyx fans who mostly are dynamic exclusive (as in; they do not consume non-bjyx content, and straightup refuse to interact with non-bjyx fans, often blocking them). as a result, id say that the zsww/lsfy communiy is way more 3/?

mature and respectful (after all, they're mostly queer people talking about a queer ship) whereas many problems in this fandom, such as the homophobia, adamantly insisting on "drawing lines" between dynamics, stem from the bjyx exclusive fans, comprised of cishet females who "may not know better". so, it is of no surprise to me that they're resorting to these immature tactics of calling gg unsavory names, and organizing retaliatory events with controversial topics in an attempt to "purify". 4/4

I trust that you have arrived at that theory through your own experience and observation. I haven't personally spent much time immersed in this stuff so I can't claim to have any real insight or expertise. If you say that's your experience of it, then at the very least that's how you've seen things up to this point.

I just want to say that I think we should always be careful about making assumptions about people's age, gender/gender identity, etc.

There are plenty of good reasons to avoid doing that; because those assumptions could be very wrong, because those assumptions are often laced with ageism, sexism, etc., because those assumptions - even when correct - might not be an accurate basis for the conclusions we draw.

But the primary reason I recommend avoiding those type of assumptions is because anything that enables us to clump a group of people together in our minds like that will tend to make them easier to demonize and dehumanize. They are no longer individuals who are each responsible for their own unique perspectives, they are now 'the X group' who is known for 'A B C series of easily attackable ideas or behaviors'.

If we attribute undesirable traits and behaviors to a group of people we feel opposed to in some way, that makes us feel more righteous and justified in behaving unfairly toward them, dismissing their humanity and warring with them. It's just risky behavior to engage in, even when it's well-intentioned.

There might actually be some truth to what you're saying. It could very well be that most of these people are young, inexperienced, heteronormative, etc. but if that's the case then we should try to use those traits to better understand and empathize rather than to better dismiss and discredit.

Just my two cents on that.

It can be really frustrating dealing with what feels like other people attacking us, trying to oppress us, etc. - especially when there are more of them than there are of us. In my experience the best solutions to that sort of problem are generally the ones that focus on what we are doing and want to do rather than what they are doing that we don't want them to do.

As I am always preaching, we can't control what other people say, do or think. The only thing we have any control over is what we say, do and think (and how we respond to what they say, do and think).

I have found in my experience that the moment I step out of a conflict mindset and instead step into a problem-solving mindset, everything starts to come together. I feel better, my outlook is more positive, I can begin to see solutions and allies rather than problems and enemies, and most of all, I become more focused on what I am doing than what others are doing.

So I would recommend everyone who is invested in resolving these conflicts focus on that. "How can we best showcase and encourage the types of stories we enjoy?" instead of "How can we stop these other people from doing things we dislike?"

Anonymous 3 asked:

Hello again! It’s anon #3 from the fanfic post. I really do appreciate reading your thoughts on various issues like this, so thank you for always taking time to write in depth. As for supporting without going to war, the simplest way has always been to just show appreciation for the creators, hype them up. Kudos are the easiest way on ao3 but comments in addition are great. This goes for all content—art, fics, vids..etc. Creators love to see and read how people react to their content. Sharing is also great, fic recs are very helpful, just be cautious with art and reposting though. Hope this helps a bit!

Thanks so much, Anon. I think this is excellent advice. And it's true that appreciation is great, but helping to expand the audience is also great. Recommending stories, pointing people to the pages/websites of artists we like (as opposed to reposting), sharing our own ideas and approaches, encouraging people to try new things... all of this helps build healthier communities.

And here's another one: WRITE! DRAW! CREATE!

I urge anyone with creative interests or talents to bring their voices to the community because we all can benefit from hearing from you.

Thanks again everyone for sharing your thoughts on this issue. I hope that over time we can all work in positive ways to improve the situation.

I think this subject has been well-covered now so I'm going to retire it for the time being. If anyone still feels they want to discuss it further please feel free to message me privately. Thanks.

[blissfulsun]

could you pleasee do 70&76 with Jeff from the angst prompts? 💞

hello my darling!! I’m sorry this took a couple of days, but its lowkey my favourite thing Ive ever written???🥺 Hope u like it just as much, ily💓 I changed both the slightest to fit into the idea I had I hope u don’t mind!!

word count: 1,713

Pretty little fears // Jeff Wittek

Jeff Wittek was a name you knew all too well. Except it used to bring visions of playgrounds and games of hide & seek, later swapped in for nights of sneaking out and stolen liquor from your father's hidden cabinet. Now, the man standing across the living room resembled more of a stranger.

Yet you somehow noticed him, eyes still instantly drawn to his taller figure in any room, this one particularly overcrowded. Your attention shifts when the friends you came with suggest a move to the garden.

He's listening to Toddy's story, or rather trying to make sense of the drunken rambling when a familiar head of hair passes in the corner of his eyes. It can't be, he tries to convince himself, searching past surrouding faces netherless, hopeful of the outcome but you're already gone.

You keep missing each other like that most of the night, you intentionally and Jeff still unsure if longing for you has finally materialised into him imagining you there in person.

The two of you collide when David stumbles across your group of girlfriends and invites you guys to 'rate his hot and less hot friends for a video'. You have no reason to say no, unaware of his connection to your hometown friend, never one to care much about social media and its content.

You make eye contact the moment you pass the threshold into the kitchen where the vs is gathered, Jeff first to speak despite the initial shock. 'y/n/n?' Others quiten down around you, eager to understand the connection between the two of you.

‘Long time Wittek' he's slightly confused and hurt by the careless tone of your greeting, his own mind going a hundred miles an hour at simply having you in such close proximity again.

You're silently seething, body simultaneously hot with rage and cold with faked indifference. You remain that way as he closes the distance between you, stiff in his arms when Jeff pulls you into a tight embrace.

The two of you remain like that for a while, your body melting into his form without permission. When he pulls away eventually, it's only far enough to look down at your face and ask 'wanna head outside? We have some catchin' up to do'. You sigh and nod, all too knowing that he wouldn't really let you have the choice.

Jeff couldn't let you go now that you seemingly fell back into his life, his hands guiding you as if you were to get lost in the house you've been in for the better portion of the night, you let him have at least that.

As soon as the two of you are outside and in a less crowded area you step away, distancing yourself from him in spite of the puppy eyes he directs at you. 'Well?..' You ask, hands wrapping around your waist in an effort to appear stand offish, the effort noted but futile.

Jeff just thinks you look adorable trying to stay mad at him, the attempts always failing in the past: from the time he tripped and accidently fell into your pride and joy of a sandcastle at four to the days when he began to fall into the wrong crowd, showing up at your window past midnight, asking to stay the night in a broken voice you could never say no to.

That's what your relationship with Jeff was, you gave and gave and he took. It wasn't always the case, early formative years of your friendship spent in mutual affection. He would push, punch and kick the bullies and in return you would offer him half of your snacks.

Then it transitioned to fighting just about anyone, and for any reason, not just for you. Still, you would bandage up the cuts and bruises, gentle kisses healing his scars better than any ointment.

You were a team, is what both of you would say whenever questions arose, jealous girlfriends & boyfriends alike or your parents increasingly protective in light of his misbehaviours. Even his own mother, who really just wanted the best for him and you, unsure at one point if you could pull him back and if it was fair to put such pressure on a 17 year old girl. You couldn't, evidently.

Jeff continued to hang out with a crowd you refused to be around and then you left for college. He was upset at first, his fear of abandonment and simply missing you translating into weeks of radio silence until he showed up at your dorm, the two of you falling back into the friendship no one else could understand.

It was fine like that for a while and then he left for Miami, promising to stay safe and in touch, though less often than either of you would like. His seventh arrest was the final blow, you mostly unaware to the extent of his illegal activities and the number of times Jeff found himself behind bars. That last time was the worst, not only because he was sentenced to at least a couple of months but because his own mother finally informed you.

'Jeff? Seriously...' your anger snaps him out of reminiscing. You look far less eager to take a trip down memory lane, but if he's already taken up your time you might as well get some answers, you decide. 'Why?' you grit your teeth, continuing 'why did you abandon me?' It's a loaded question and you're terrified of it's outcome.

‘Darlin' Jeff tries, his hand reaching for your own but you stand your ground despite his softened expression. 'No. Enlighten me. How do you spend every day with someone, write and call for months and just...just lie until you had no choice but admit you were fuckin' dealing drugs Jeffrey.' You want to shout, holding back for the sake of not gathering yourself an audience.

Meanwhile he visibly flinches at the accusing tone of yours. After a couple of calming breaths you look up at his face and begin to feel small again, back to the little girl barely reaching his shoulders & always gripping at the sleeve of his jumper.

'That's not even the worst part...' your words are softer now, Jeff can't decide if that and the tears gathering in your eyes are worse than the angry dialogue. 'The worst part is that you never responded...to any of my letters. I drove hundred of miles as a broke ass student only to find out I was already written off your visitors list' you pause, looking up to the sky to gather yourself and prevent the waterworks begging to start.

He just watches you both in awe and undeniable pain, heart split between letting you go as to not relive the pain and bringing you into his arms, body aching for the familiar comfort no one else has ever been successful in replacing, not really. 'After everything we've been through?' The last question comes out broken.

'I'm sorry...' he scrambles to reword when he catches sight of the perplexed anger adorning your face. 'I...you were goin' places alright? You were always going to be someone great darlin'. I just slowed that down and then...the final arrest happened. And I...you didn't need to see me like that, behind bars. I would rather do it alone a million more times than to put you through that.'

Jeff can only hope his explanation comes across half as elegantly. It doesn't, he realises at your sudden outburst, 'That wasn't your choice to make! Fuck you.' The response draws some unwanted attention to the pair of you, his friends standing in a corner nearby and trying to work out your significance.

'Angel please...' Jeff decides to try an old method of calming you down, hand wrapping around the back of your neck under the cascading hair you let down for the night. Your mind is still focused on the erupting anger, but your body, it surrenders to the familiar hold, shoulders unwittingly losing tension and expression softening while he stares in your eyes.

'You weren't alone.' The softness with which you deliver your next response shocks you both. The thought continues at sight of his confusion, 'You didn't have to do it alone. We were a team, from the time we were barely four...' Jeff nods at that truth. 'I know...' he's not sure whether to continue, unsure if this was the right place or time but already in too deep with a single look into your glassy eyes.

‘I know but I loved you-' 'wha' your attempt at interruption and shocked expression is ignored. '-and I know you loved me too angel. That's why...I could never do that to you' The confession hangs in the air, but at least it's finally out there, Jeff thinks. Years of repressed emotions and regret spilling over in favour of gentle relief inside your childhood best friend.

You clear your throat, 'right..' the eye contact is broken as you force your body away from his hold. He's confused, heart dropping into his stomach in disappointment as you stiffly walk around him and back inside without another word.

Jeff takes the leap and catches up to you outside, short of breath from the chase. '-wait!! That's...that's it? ' he has to ask. You whip around to face him for the second time tonight.

‘Yes! That's fuckin' it you asshole. You single handedly ripped my heart out and disappeared from my life like it was the easiest thing in the world! Of course I have always loved you, you..you selfish arrogant little pri-' the rant was left unfinished, a soft pair of lips shutting you up.

Jeff had to kiss you. It's been all he's thought about since you stepped into the random kitchen a couple minutes ago, the need so intense and eerily reminscent of his teenage years and early adulthood, always left unfulfilled for your own sake.

This time...he's tired of denying himself the pleasure, years older and maybe wiser, unwilling to ever let you go again. 'm still mad at you..' you mumble when he finally has to pull away for some air. The laugh that escapes him both infuriates and enamores you further, 'I know darlin...but I love you too.'

[indraste-darktalon]

It's such a lovely day/ To have to always feel this way

A bit of fluff for @blixvoronin, both for birthday and just generally being an awesome person purposes. <3<3<3

-----

Indy was slowly getting used to being in crowds. It was easy when outdoors, because the option to just turn into a bird and fly away was available, and it was even easier when she knew some of the vendors. (Which being a return customer tended to make happen organically--shocking, that.) But it was easiest when Blix was with her.

Though that was true of most things, these days.

Right now, they were standing in line for the chocolatier, waiting for their chance to put an order in. Indy was using her height to her advantage, peering at the vendor’s menu over everyone else’s heads and rattling the options off to Blix.

“Do you remember which one I got last time?” Indy asked, lightly rubbing a hand down Blix’s back, mentally envisioning where her fingers would be on the tattoo. Mm. Maybe not a good idea to do that in public, no. It sent her mind indecent places.

“The Gentleman,” she replied after a pause. “I can’t remember what I got, but I want to try something new this time.”

“I want to find the darkest chocolate they have. The last truffles I got took me two months to finish.”

“I’ve noticed your lack of sweet tooth.” Blix laughed and squeezed her hand, and then guided them forward as the line moved up. “Thank you for standing in line with me anyway.”

“I actually used to have one! I was a cookie fanatic. Fifteen years of fruit being my only real source of sugar apparently changed that.” She peered again at the menu. “Maybe a dark chocolate bar. Worst case, I cook with it.”

Her partner squinted up at her. “Suddenly the fruit trees in the living room make even more sense. You’re just growing your own dessert.”

Indy grinned, teeth flashing happily. “Peaches. Peaches are the best.”

The customer in front of them had a short order, and soon enough it was their turn to put in their requests. Once their purchases were wrapped, Indy stashed her chocolate bar in her hip pouch and waited until Blix had a hand on her bag. They stepped out of the way to let the line progress, and then Indy put a hand on Blix’s shoulder.

“I want to sneak off a bit and give you something.” The two of them had a habit of trading gifts in markets at this point, so she wasn’t surprised to see Blix’s expression brighten.

“Oh yeah? You’re not just going to stealthily slip a present in my bag this time?”

“Not this time, moonfire. I was actually going to ask you back to my apartment and show you there, but I’m ridiculously excited about giving these to you, and I don’t think I can wait.”

She laughed. Night, it was such a good sound to hear. “Now I’m really curious.”

Blix guided them to the shade of a nearby tree and sat down beneath it, then smiled as Indy sank down beside her. “Alright. Show me!”

She rummaged around in her hip pouch again for a moment, losing her hand in the expansive space within it, and then felt her prize against her fingertips. She immediately pulled out three shirts and rested them in her lap. After closing her bag again, she lifted the top shirt and showed it to Blix with no fanfare. It was black, sleeveless, with a halter neck that was held closed by a red button. The back itself draped low, so that it would sink towards the hips when worn, leaving a great deal of skin exposed.

“To show off your tattoo, if you want to,” Indy explained, offering it out.

Blix took it, turning it back and forth as she inspected it. “Did you make this?”

Indy nodded. “I hope you like the style, because there’s a blue and a red one, too. The red one I matched to the red ink on your wolf, so it should really make it pop.” She held up the red one, which had the same style back, but a neck that was made from a gold chain to match the wolf's eyes.

“Thank you, wildflower. These are perfect.” Blix gave her that smile that made Indy’s heart skip a beat every time, and she felt her ears flushing lightly.

Indy felt her head tilt, envisioning once again how she expected these shirts to fit. “...Thoughts on heading back and modeling for me in private?”

She made a dramatic thoughtful noise, folding the shirts and tucking them away in her shopping bag with teasing slowness. “Of course,” she said with a chuckle.

Indy rose fluidly, brushing off her kilt, and held out her hand. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Oh, I bet you will.” Blix winked and let herself be pulled to her feet.

No. Now Indy’s ears were flushing. “Gah,” she said articulately, and then began leading Blix from the market.

[ahsbitch]

Yes, Mr. Langdon---Fire & Reign!Michael Langdon x Reader

Word Count: 3228

Summary: Reader is F&R!Michael’s assistant, who is always quick to do whatever he asks. Michael wants to see how far she’ll go to do just that. 

Warnings: NSFW, lots of swearing, masturbation, Reader gets a facial, bootlicking, degradation, humiliation ish?, some Mean!Michael, but also kinda Soft!Michael at the end bc I’m soft and lonely at heart, that’s all I can think of idk

A/N: Hi I’ve literally never written any AHS stuff before so I apologize if this sucks but I really hope it doesn’t  

Being the personal assistant to the Antichrist was definitely not the easiest job in the world.

But when held in comparison to your time in restaurant service, it definitely wasn’t the hardest either. 

At least here, you rarely had to deal with obstinate customers. Most people were too frightened of your boss, Mr. Langdon, to yell or be rude in his presence, which you were constantly in, and on the occasion that they were rude or stubborn anyway, he had a tendency to give a little wave of his hand, incinerating them before your very eyes. 

No, the rudest and most needy person you typically had to deal with was Mr. Langdon himself. 

The rude came and went in waves. He could be cruel, demeaning, downright evil at times. He acted, in short, much like one might expect the Antichrist to. But sometimes, he could be charming, gentle, occasionally even sweet. 

The neediness came and went in waves too, although it was more often very subtly present than anything else. Usually he was commanding, powerful, clearly in charge. But sometimes, although still commanding, he could be almost childlike in his confusion and frustration. 

He was kind of an asshole, but he wasn’t the worst boss in the world. There was something about him that was compelling, that made you feel a great desire to please him. He was always specific about what he wanted, and you always complied, no matter how out of the box, how insulting, how simple or extreme, how kind or how demeaning. You said yes to everything he asked you. 

And he had begun to take great notice of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fucking, fuck, dammit to hell, this fucking, son of a bitch!” 

You sat at your desk just outside of Michael Langdon’s office, transcribing a giant tome of text as instructed by the Cooperative, and listening to your boss curse loudly at inanimate objects. 

You should probably get up, check on him, but you decided that until he reached the point of breaking things-

“Fuck!” He shouted, and then there was a bang and a very, very loud crash. 

Yeah, until he started doing stuff like that. 

You rose with a shake of your head, knocking sharply on his door three times. 

“Come in,” Michael sighed, and as you walked in you took note of the shattered computer against the opposite wall of his desk, turning back to look at your boss with his head laying against said desk, hands gripping at his golden curls.

Dammit, he was frustrated. 

Frustrated Michael could be particularly difficult to deal with. 

You stood before him, hands folded neatly in front of you, smiling pleasantly even though he wasn’t looking at you yet, “You sounded like you might be in need of assistance, Mr. Langdon. Would you mind fixing your computer?” 

He grunted quietly, giving a little swirl of his hand, although he didn’t lift his head, and you stepped out of the way as the technology flew back into place, drifting into its original position. 

“Very good. Now, if you don’t mind, could you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I’m not a child, Y/N,” Michael growled, and you bit your tongue gently to resist the urge to laugh. 

Moving to the side of the desk, you smiled to yourself at his little temper tantrum, “Of course not, Mr. Langdon. I am merely at your service.” 

“Of course you are,” Sitting up finally, he turned to you, and you were amused to see the pout that sat on his lips, the intimidating man looking suddenly very young, more his own age, “The mouse won’t work.” 

“May I?” You didn’t wait for him to agree, already wiggling the mouse once and then moving to the wires of the computer, fiddling with them quickly before sliding the mouse back to Michael, “That should do it.” 

“What was wrong with it?” He glanced up at you, voice gruff, although you could hear a hint of curiosity.

You shifted where you stood, trying to mask your discomfort, “Just, uh, just technology stuff.”

“Y/N,” Turning in his chair, Michael pinned you in place with his gaze, and you were unsure whether this was metaphorical pinning or not, with how frozen you felt, “Tell me what was wrong with it.”

“Yes, Mr. Langdon,” Trying to keep your smile in place rather than let a grimace take you over, you grit your teeth in preparation for him to do something violent, “The mouse wasn’t plugged in all the way. It’s a fairly common issue. Happens all the time.”

You tensed, but to your surprise Michael didn’t yell or break something or curse, like he usually did when he felt a sense of ineptitude. Instead, he laughed, and normally that would’ve scared you even more, but it was such a warm and gentle laugh that you felt yourself relaxing ever so slightly as he spoke, “Of course it was. Tell me, Y/N, is there anything wrong with you?”

Shrugging, you let yourself perch on the edge of his desk with a giggle, “Plenty of things, believe me.”

“Tell me some?” 

“Yes, Mr. Langdon,” Pausing, you mused over your words, testing each on the tip of your tongue before you said it, “Let’s see. My left foot is bigger than my right. I think jealousy is a very ugly emotion, and I hate it, but I have a lot of insecurities, and often find myself jealous of people around me in spite of my best efforts. Um, I read cheesy romance novels in my free time even though the writing usually makes me cringe. When people ask me what type of lipstick I use I always lie because I don’t want anyone else to have lips that look as good as mine. Oh, and even though I exclusively call you Mr. Langdon out loud, I will confess that in my head I usually refer to you as Michael. It’s faster, y’know.”

Chuckling softly once more, Michael nodded, “Those don’t sound too bad, as far as problems go. You’re lucky.”

“I prefer to think of myself as adaptable.”

“Fair enough,” He grinned, but something dangerous glittered behind his eyes, “You can go now, Y/N.” 

“Yes, Mr. Langdon,” You flashed him a small smile before hurrying out of the room.

Michael watched you leave, musing over your words. 

How far, he wondered, how far could he go with his wishes, before you gave in, before you said no. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why the hell wouldn’t you say no to anything?

It was beginning to drive Michael crazy, watching the way that you gave in to whatever he asked, even when he was being absurd. 

You spent a full day doing all your work in nothing but your underclothes, simply because he asked. 

You gave sat on his lap through a whole meeting with other members of the Cooperative, your superiors, simply because he asked. 

You let him order you to do tiny things. Hand him pens that were two inches away from his fingertips. Kiss the floor where his chair had been sitting. Adjust the brightness of his computer screen for him only to come back and adjust it to its original brightness approximately two minutes later. Simply because he asked. 

What wouldn’t you say yes to? 

He was musing over this as he waited for you to return from a coffee run.

There you were, carrying two paper cups, a pleasant smile on your face. 

Always that same damn smile.

“I have your hot chocolate, Mr. Langdon,” You set the cup in front of him on the desk, “Thank you again for allowing me to get myself a drink.”

Michael glanced up at you, frowning, “Y/N, I always let you get yourself a drink.” 

Shrugging, you raised the cup to your lips and took a sip, “I know you do, Mr. Langdon. But it feels right to thank you. You’re a good boss.” 

Maybe not so much, He thought to himself as he twitched his hand, watching you drop the cup almost in slow motion, watching as the lid came off and your drink spilled just a bit onto his lap, just a bit onto his legs, cursing as the rest came splashing down onto his shoes. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” You gasped, staring at your now empty hands in shock.

Sneering at you, Michael snapped twice, “Don’t just stand there, Y/N. Clean up your mess.” 

“Right, I’m sorry, Mr. Langdon, let me go get-”

“No,” He grabbed your wrist, not allowing you to move away, and you turned back to him in confusion as he continued to tug you closer, “Get onto your knees, open your mouth, and clean up your mess.” 

Holy fuck.

Ignoring the way your face burned, you averted your eyes, whispering, “Yes, Mr. Langdon,” As you dropped to your knees.

Where exactly were you meant to go with this? 

Michael raised his foot, nudging your chin with it until you looked up and met his gaze, his eyes holding something dark and urgently, compellingly dangerous, “Well? Get to work, Y/N.”  

“Yes, Mr. Langdon.”

Before you could even think any further, he had touched the toe of his boot to your mouth, pushing gently against your bottom lip until you opened for him. 

He was a remarkably clean person, and beyond the taste of your coffee even the shoes themselves didn’t taste particularly bad. 

Probably because they cost more than your apartment. 

You moved slowly at first, but as Michael brought his hands down to wind tightly through your hair, you sped up. You lapped at the droplets of coffee, over the grooves of his laces and up to the sharp, pointed toe of the boot, and when you were done with one you switched to the other. He gripped your hair tightly, guiding your head, forcing you to bob up and down as you cleaned his shoe, and you wondered vacantly to yourself if he did the same thing while he was getting a blowjob. 

Probably. 

“Good girl,” He praised as you worked, his voice softer than you expected, and even Michael seemed surprised as he cleared his throat, his tone becoming darker, “You’re not bad at this. Do you do this often?”

Pausing your ministrations briefly, you shook you head, “No, Mr. Langdon.”

You were back at it immediately, feeling him tug at your head.

Michael was trying hard to sound intimidating, and of course he did, he always did, but there was something shockingly gentle behind his voice even as he growled, “Good. I should be your first priority. Tell me, do you enjoy this?” 

You had finished against his shoes, pulling away, and he released your head as he examined them, smirking at your heavy breathing, at the way you panted your answer, “Would you, uh, do you want me to enjoy this, Mr. Langdon?”

Narrowing his eyes, a frown etched across his face, “What? I mean, no. No, I don’t want you to.”

“Then I don’t,” You shrugged, rocking backwards.

Fuck, you were going to kill him. 

“What if I wanted you to?” 

“Then I would.”

Clearing his throat again, Michael stared at you for a moment before patting his thigh, “There’s coffee on my pants, as well. You’ll need to take care of that, too.”

“Yes, Mr. Langdon.” 

He didn’t touch you this time, instead bringing his hands up, reclining further back in his chair and resting his head against his palms as he watched you. 

Starting at the cuff, you stroked your tongue up his pant leg, pressing absentminded kisses occasionally as you went. By the time you’d reached the tops of his thighs, Michael was straining forward ever so slightly, dragging the chair closer to you with one ankle hooked around his desk, and then meeting up with his other ankle to lock behind your back. 

You took the hint, mouthing along the outline of his cock.

Holy shit, he was huge, and you hadn’t even seen it unconstrained. 

He hissed, quietly, his hips bucking forward as you licked your way up to his zipper, clamping your teeth onto it and tugging down without much thought. 

“Stop,” He said firmly, almost laughing as you scrambled back, “Don’t be greedy.” 

“Sorry, Mr. Langdon,” You dropped your gaze and licked your lips, tasting the remains of your coffee. 

“Is this...” Trailing off in thought, Michael guided your face upwards once more, forcing you to make eye contact with him, “Is this embarrassing for you, Y/N?”

“Do you want it to be embarrassing for me?” 

“Stop that,” He snapped, his grip on your chin tightening, “Stop bullshitting me. Give me a real answer. Truthfully, is this embarrassing for you?”

Tapping your fingers along your thighs, musing over your answer a moment, “Truthfully? Of course it is. A lot of the things you have me do, especially lately, I find humiliating.”

There it was. Now would you finally give in, finally reject a request? 

He didn’t say anything, just reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. 

Neither of you spoke, staring at each other instead, and hesitantly you reached for it, flinching as Michael slapped your hand away just as you brushed your fingers against him.

“I told you not to be greedy.”

“Sorry, Mr. Langdon.”

After a moment more, Michael nodded, wrapping his own fist around his cock and beginning to pump it. You watched in fascination as moved, at the way his long fingers wrapped around his thick, long, perfect cock. 

“Y/N,” Snapping you out of your daze, Michael paused to spit into his hand, moving rubbing along the head of his dick before returning to his former position, “I want to jerk off onto your face. I want you to sit there, and watch me, and I want to finish on your face, and when I’m done, I want you to thank me, and I want you to leave it there. Leave it for the rest of the day, so everyone can see how desperate you are to please me.”

Surely, surely you would say no to this. 

“Yes, Mr. Langdon.” 

A growl made its way out of his throat before he could stop it, and he sped up his pace as he watched you fold your hands in your lap, adjusting your knees a little, staring up at him through your fluttering lashes. 

Snarling, Michael grunted, “You’re pathetic, do you know that?”

Did he want you to answer? 

“Keep your pretty little whore mouth shut, got it?” He spoke like he could read your mind, and you decided he probably could as you clamped your teeth shut, nodding quickly as he continued, “Fuck. You’d do anything I asked you to, huh? If I told you to kill someone, you’d do it without question, wouldn’t you? Hell, you’d kill yourself without question, if I asked you to. I think you like feeling humiliated. I think that your pussy gets wetter and wetter every time I tell you what to do. I- shit- I’m your fucking boss, and you’re on your knees for me before I can even finish telling you that’s where you need to be. It’s absurd. You probably want me to fuck you right now. You’re probably wishing I would let you open your mouth so you can swallow me down, you’re so desperate to get a taste of me.”

He was getting closer to finishing, you could tell, his rhythm getting faster and faster, his words becoming more sharply articulated. 

Michael kept going, almost like he was talking himself into cumming, “You can’t wait for me to finish, can you? You can’t wait to feel completely possessed by me, like I’ve somehow claimed you. You can’t wait for everyone who you see to stare at you, full of disgust and confusion. You want it, don’t you? Don’t you?”

“Yes, Mr. Langdon,” You nodded, shutting your eyes as he let out a low, shaky groan, his warm cum coating your face.

Fucking hell.

You opened your eyes slowly, carefully, unsure of whether or not you should move. You watched as Michael stuffed himself back into his pants, zipping them quickly, and then he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, holding it out to you.

You didn’t take it but blinked up at him, staring, “I, um, I thought you said to leave it.”

Clicking his tongued, Michael started wiping your face himself, his touch incredibly light, “I thought you’d say no. Tell me to stop. Maybe report me to HR.”

You flicked your eyebrow up, an amused smile settling on your lips, “Do we have an HR for the apocalypse?” 

Chuckling mirthlessly, he raised the handkerchief to his mouth and spat lightly, cleaning your face more intently, “You could say no, do you realize that? Why don’t you ever say no to me?” 

You closed your eyes as he rubbed across the bridge of your nose, dabbing delicately at your eyelids. 

“Have you ever seen The Princess Bride?” You asked, finally, as he moved to your hairline. 

His brow furrowed in confusion, “I, uh, no? No, I’ve never seen it.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” His hand moved to your cheek and you leaned into it before you could stop yourself, humming as his thumb moved to run across your skin, “You should watch it sometime. Before you do the whole ending the world thing and kill me and pretty much everyone else in the world and inevitably ruin Netflix. Forget about that. Let’s just say it’s because I’m afraid of you, yeah? You scare me, so I do whatever you say.”

Hesitating for just a moment, Michael pulled his hand away, eyes closed, frowning, “Is that what The Princess Bride is about? Being afraid of your boss?”

You laughed before you could stop yourself, and you found yourself wishing that he would touch your face again, although you didn’t dare say so, “Not quite. Just, uh, forget about The Princess Bride. It doesn’t matter.”

He nodded, folding his handkerchief and slipping it into his pocket without opening his eyes, which you found oddly impressive. 

You kept waiting for Michael to say something, to look at you, to move, to do anything, but he wasn’t and he didn’t and so you stood, and started to move away. 

“Wait,” He spoke finally, and you felt as though you’d been in silence for hours although you knew it must’ve only been a few moments.

“Yes, Mr. Langdon?”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Michael opened his eyes, looking at you carefully, “I mean, the apocalypse. It’s not going to kill you.”

“It’s not? I thought only members of the Cooperative, and the people rich enough to buy a ticket, I thought they were the only ones who were going to make it.” 

He wrapped his hand around your wrist, just as he had before, but this time it wasn’t aggressive, wasn’t rough. He was very gentle, his fingers skimming along the veins, pausing to feel your pulse thump against him, “And you. There will be a place for you in the new world, Y/N, I promise you that.”

And then Michael had released your wrist and turned away, and you made your way out the door and back to your own desk with a soft, “Thank you, Mr. Langdon.”

[tsarisfanfiction]

Long Way From Home: Chapter 12

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Friendship Characters: Scott, Tracy Family

Watch me forget to update again last week, whoops.  This is also the final chapter of this ‘arc’, so we’ll be taking another break for a while because uni means I don’t have time to keep writing at the moment (and a certain character is being awkward in the next chapter).  Still, I hope you’ve enjoyed this pile of Scott&Other-Gordon, and I’ll get back to work on this when I’ve got the time.

For now, enjoy!

<<<Chapter 11

The subject wasn’t broached until they were back in the car, Scott feeling comfortably full as the food settled in his stomach.

“I guess there’s nothing I can say to persuade you to finish the trip now?” Other-Gordon sighed.

“I’m not quitting,” Scott said firmly.  “It’s just some sneakers.  I’ll try them on, find the ones that fit best, and we’ll be done.”

He half expected Other-Gordon to contradict him and tell him something was different about buying shoes in this universe, but he didn’t.

“That’s the spirit,” he said instead.  “I’ll keep them talking, like the last shop.”

“Thanks.”  Scott appreciated the thought; if they were distracted with Other-Gordon, then they’d be focusing less on him.

He was looking forwards to being able to wear comfortable shoes. Other-Scott’s fit well enough, but after several hours in them he was starting to feel the rub of an unfamiliar style.

“Mr Tracy!” he was greeted as they stepped through the door upon arrival. “Is there a problem with your last purchases?”

“Oh no, not at all,” Other-Gordon cut in, inserting himself slightly ahead of Scott and into the flustered-looking man’s line of sight. “You’ll have to forgive Scott, he’s gone and lost his voice, but he really liked them, so we’re here to get a couple more pairs,” he assured them.

The fluster turned to relief and then delight as the man no doubt realised he was going to be making another expensive sale to round off his day.

“Of course!” he beamed.  “If you’d like to follow me.”  They were chivvied along to a section of the shop lined with various designs of sneakers all along the wall, which Scott immediately started to eye up.  The designs were varied, and none of them looked exactly like he was used to, but he could definitely see a few that looked hopeful.

Ignoring both Other-Gordon and the salesman, he walked over to the wall to get a closer look.  You’re Scott Tracy.  He just had to take the initiative instead of hovering awkwardly and waiting for a cue, and then it would be fine.

No-one would suspect he was the wrong Scott Tracy.

Behind him, Other-Gordon was talking a mile a minute, playing the distraction he’d promised, and after the day they’d had it was almost effortless to trust him.  The other man had proven time and time again that despite the bizarre nature of the situation, he cared and wanted Scott to be as comfortable as possible.

It wasn’t even a case of just trying to preserve his brother’s reputation. Just as he was Scott Tracy, Other-Gordon was Gordon Tracy.  They might not be each other’s brother, but they didn’t need to be related to care. The man that had guided him out of two panic attacks and subtly grounded him at the first sign of other ones had done it because he cared about him.

Scott was used to being the rescuer.  He was used to being the one picking up strangers, helping them find their feet and offering whatever aid was needed until they were safe.  He’d never been so thoroughly on the other side before.  It was terrifying, he realised as he picked up a hopeful looking sneaker for a closer inspection.  Putting all your trust in someone you knew of but didn’t know was much, much harder than he’d ever realised.

What Other-Gordon was doing for him wasn’t quite the same – his life wasn’t in danger; he didn’t need snatching from the jaws of death – but the parallels were there.  Scott was lost, and there was no denying that he was scared of what had happened, why it happened, what it would be doing to his brothers right then, and Other-Gordon was offering a life line.  Something he could cling to while he found his feet, and caught him when he stumbled.

“Scott?” the man in question asked, appearing beside him.  “How are you doing?”

Scott looked at him, the heart-achingly familiarity of his face even though it wasn’t the same, and the searching amber eyes that were exactly the same, right down to the concern shining through, and nodded. He’d only known him for a few hours, but Scott trusted him, and that was enough to keep what-ifs and concerns about recognition at bay.

He could do this.

The sneaker in his hand looked like a good start, so he held it up, drawing attention to the selection.

“Would you like to try that pair on, sir?” the salesman asked.  Scott nodded confidently, and handed it over so he could bustle over to the store room to retrieve its partner.

Other-Gordon didn’t say anything, even after they were left alone, so Scott continued looking around, searching for another design that looked hopeful. He could feel the other man’s eyes watching him, but he wasn’t asking if he was doing okay, or attempting to provide other reassurances, and Scott wondered if he could tell that he was, as much as he could be, relaxed.

He probably could.

By the time the salesman returned – this one called John, it transpired, but with black hair and brown eyes it was just another man with a common name, and not a painful reminder of his younger brother – he’d found another three to try on.

Four times pacing and then jogging around the room, jumping up and down and feeling a rush from being active, even if it was just rather aggressively putting through sneakers through their paces, and he ended up walking out the shop with all of them.  It was easier than picking two when they all felt right.

There was also the nagging feeling that Other-Scott didn’t test shoes quite the same way he did, judging by the look on salesman-John’s face, and the panic had started to bubble up when he abruptly remembered that Other-Scott had only been there recently.  Grabbing all four pairs and nudging Other-Gordon into paying for them so that they could leave – a nudge that, yes, might have comprised of four smaller ones that instantly sharpened amber eyes – had been the easiest way to avoid questions and quell the panic.

Other-Gordon didn’t outwardly hurry them out of the shop, but Scott felt the underlying determination as he quipped about getting late and the flight home as an excuse for their departure.  The amount of money the quartet of sneakers cost definitely went a long way towards distracting the salesman from anything else.

“Are you okay?” the ginger asked once they were settled back in the car. He didn’t mention that Scott had been fine for most of the time, but the unspoken observation hung between them.

Scott took a deep breath and pressed his head back against the headrest, feeling the hat digging in.  He was looking forwards to taking it off.  “Yeah,” he said.  “I’m okay.”

“Too much cooped up energy?” Other-Gordon asked, clearly determining that he wasn’t about to panic and turning the engine on.  “You were mighty energetic in there.”

“They’re nice sneakers,” Scott defended, not responding to the secondary observation.

“So it seemed,” Other-Gordon shrugged.  “Well, unless there’s anything else you need, I’d say it’s time to head back to the airport.”

Scott glanced at the backseat of the car, where a small pile of bags nestled.

“That should be enough,” he agreed.  “I don’t suppose I can persuade you to let me pilot back?”

Other-Gordon did a double-take.

“What happened to ‘different technology’?” he asked.  “You’ve not understood anything here.  I saw you looking at the car earlier.”

Scott shrugged.  “Apparently the only thing that is the same are plane controls,” he admitted.

Other-Gordon groaned.  “You mean you actually were judging my piloting?” he whined.

“I didn’t say anything about your piloting,” Scott defended.  Other-Gordon huffed.

“You didn’t need to, but I figured you were just comparing it to what you were used to,” he said.  “It didn’t occur to me that you knew exactly what I should have been doing when.”

“So you’ll let me pilot back?” Scott tried hopefully.

“Sorry, fella.”  He couldn’t stop his shoulders slumping in disappointment at Other-Gordon’s firm answer. “Look, I would rather you piloted, because I’m not daft enough to think you’re not better at it than me, but you don’t have a pilot’s license here, and it’s not my call whether you sneak by on Scott’s.”

The argument made a frustrating amount of sense, and Scott sighed. “Can’t we ask him?”

“He’ll say no,” Other-Gordon said confidently.  “Unless you’re telling me you’d let someone pilot on your license with only his word he’s as good as he says.”

The ginger, annoyingly, wasn’t wrong.  Scott wouldn’t.

“We can add it to the things to talk to him about when we get back,” Other-Gordon pointed out.  “Still, if planes aren’t so different, maybe that’ll make the training easier.”

He had a point.  Scott hadn’t considered that the Thunderbirds might have the same controls, when the jargon seemed so different.  “I saw a few external differences,” he said.  “Didn’t get a good look at the cockpit, and her engine makes a different sound.”

“Why aren’t I surprised you took all that in?” the ginger asked rhetorically. “Then again, I suppose in a way she’s ‘yours’,” he mused.  “Good luck fighting Scott for her.”

Scott groaned, well aware that no matter how good a pilot he proved to be, he was never going to wrangle primary pilot of this universe’s Thunderbird One.

“I don’t think I’ll bother,” he muttered.  “He won’t give her over unless he has no other choice.”

“Voice of experience?” Other-Gordon asked, amused.  Scott raised an eyebrow at him.

“The last time I let Gordon near her he tried to turn her into a submarine. Virgil hates piloting her, Kayo is banned from going near the pilot seat, John prefers being a passenger in Two if he’s down from orbit and Alan’s too inexperienced,” he listed. “No-one pilots my girl except me. No exceptions.”

Other-Gordon laughed.  “That doesn’t surprise me; Scott’s the same,” he confirmed.  “But who’s Kayo?”

Scott had forgotten he hadn’t mentioned Kayo to anyone except Tin-Tin yet.

“My Tin-Tin,” he said.  “She’s a hell of a pilot, but her ‘bird gets damaged even more than Three.  Too many stunts.”

“Hold up.”  Other-Gordon even raised a hand to emphasise his words.  “Her ‘bird?  Do you have six or- but Three?  No, you said more than Three.  Who pilots Three?”

That was entirely too many questions, and Scott dodged most of them.

“Tin-Tin doesn’t have her own?” he asked in return.  “I know she’s an engineer, but so’s Virgil.”

“Tin-Tin co-pilots Three sometimes, but otherwise she stays on the island,” Other-Gordon told him.  “Your- Kayo goes out?”

They think we’re delicate flowers, Tin-Tin had more-or-less said. Scott hadn’t made the connection with participating on rescues.

“I get the feeling Kayo would give you all a heart attack if you ever met her,” he said.  “There’s no stopping that girl when she gets an idea in her head.”

He should know.  He’d tried. It normally ended in shouting matches and her doing whatever she wanted anyway.  Sometimes he wondered if building Thunderbird Shadow for her had been a mistake, but then he remembered how miserable she’d been without her own reliable transport.

Other-Gordon eyed him.  “There’re more differences than technology and fashion, aren’t there?”

“Yeah,” Scott confirmed.  “I haven’t decided if more is the same or different yet.  Most of it seems to be small things.  Just enough to be off from what I’m used to.”

“Like us,” Other-Gordon sighed.  “Sounds like we were too hasty with this trip,” he added.  “Even if you needed new underpants.”

Scott shrugged.  “We were never going to know all the differences.”  He wouldn’t have thought to ask about the minor details, and none of them had even considered that the family business – the actual one – would have a different name.

“I guess that’s true,” Other-Gordon conceded.  “But we should still have given you a little longer than a few hours before taking you off the island.  Sorry about that.”

He wasn’t wrong, but, “what’s done is done,” he said.  “I survived.”

“Get yourself straight in the Ladybird when we get to the hangar,” Other-Gordon said.  “If anyone tries to get in your way, ignore them.  I’ll get Scott to soothe any ruffled feathers later.”

“I can handle it,” Scott protested.  “Jones, right?”

“You don’t have to handle it,” Other-Gordon told him firmly.  “It’s been mighty awful day for you, and the last thing you need is Scott’s airfield buddies bothering you.  Those fellas know Scott better than anyone else we’ve seen today.”

Scott had almost forgotten that.  Other-Gordon was right; returning to the Ladybird was when someone was most likely to notice something wasn’t right.  The sandwiches from earlier felt uncomfortably weighty in his stomach all of a sudden.

He couldn’t afford a panic attack in the hangar; Other-Gordon wouldn’t be able to take off, so they wouldn’t be able to get away from Other-Scott’s so-called ‘airfield buddies’.

It would be an absolute disaster.

“Okay,” he agreed.  “But I’m not leaving you to load her alone.”

Other-Gordon rolled his eyes.  “Maybe it’s different where you’re from, but here we have valets for that sort of thing.  Appearances and all that – although Dad’s got them trained to be extra vigilant if it’s me. They won’t let me pick up a single bag, just you watch.”

Other-Gordon’s back hadn’t even occurred to him, but if even his family were treating him like glass, Scott supposed it was no surprise there was hired help to stop him straining himself.

“I don’t know how you stand it,” he admitted.

“Aw, it’s not always so bad,” Other-Gordon admitted.  “Helps with the cover.  No-one would expect poor, crippled former Olympian me of still being an active aquanaut, let alone be capable of pulling the stunts those fine young men in International Rescue manage.”

That was true, Scott supposed.

“Look,” the ginger said.  “If it makes you feel better, you can run through her pre-flights while I’m dealing with the chaps on the ground.”

Scott startled.  “You trust me to do that without supervision?”

“I know you were watching me when we left the island,” Other-Gordon shrugged. “I figure if you do come across something unfamiliar, you’re not daft enough to let me take off without getting it double-checked it first.”

Scott could accept that.

“Besides, no-one’ll find that strange around here.  It’ll look more strange if Scott Tracy isn’t doing all the checks himself.”

“You could have just said that in the first place,” Scott pointed out. Other-Gordon scoffed, but said nothing.

Jones wasn’t amongst the men that seemed to be waiting for them when Other-Gordon rolled the car up behind the hangar.  Scott supposed his shift was over for the day, and in a way that made it easier to reluctantly leave the car and head straight for the hangar.  The T.A. was a beacon, and once the door opened, the red of the Ladybird stood out amongst the many planes housed inside.

“Hey, Scott!” an unfamiliar voice called.  He ignored them, remembering what Other-Gordon had said about them all knowing Other-Scott and knowing he couldn’t handle trying to interact with any of them without the ginger to act as a buffer without making them suspicious.

Pre-flight checks.  Those, he could do.

He slipped into the cockpit, taking the pilot’s seat for the moment although Other-Gordon was doubtless going to shove him over when he arrived, and immersed himself in the blessed familiarity of flicking switches and running all the checks that had long since become second nature to him.  While the Ladybird was a far cry from Thunderbird One, she wasn’t so far from more conventional aircraft that he couldn’t work her out.

Engrossed in the task, he barely noticed the ground crew flitting around as their shopping was loaded into the cargo hold under Other-Gordon’s supervision, or the questions about him being fired the ginger’s way, only to be expertly deflected.

He did notice the jab in his shoulder when Other-Gordon clambered up to join him.

“Finished?” the ginger asked.  Scott ran his hands over the controls one last time, before reluctantly pronouncing himself satisfied.

“She’s good to fly,” he said.

“Then budge over,” Other-Gordon retorted.  Scott reluctantly shimmied over into the passenger seat. “Everything’s fine?”

“Just like our training jet at home,” Scott promised.  “I taught Alan to fly with controls like this.”  He glanced over at the ginger settling himself into the pilot’s seat.  “Gordon, too.”

“You’re calling the Ladybird a training jet?” Other-Gordon asked.  “I’d like to see you tell Tin-Tin that.”

Scott chuckled.  “Anything’s a training jet compared to my usual ride,” he pointed out.

Other-Gordon rolled his eyes.  “I’d like to see you tell Virgil that.”

“His girl’s not a jet,” Scott retorted.  “Not unless that’s got a very different definition here.”

“I suppose you have a point,” Other-Gordon conceded, before reaching for the radio.  “Tango Alpha Ladybird to Auckland Air Traffic Control.  We’re ready for take-off, over.”

Static crackled for a moment.

“Auckland Air Traffic Control to Tango Alpha Ladybird,” the radio responded. “Clear to proceed to runway three-bravo, over.”

“Tango Alpha Ladybird to Auckland Air Traffic Control.  Understood.  Proceeding now, over.”  The hangar door opened and Other-Gordon taxied them out onto the tarmac.  Scott occupied himself with looking out at the other planes as they travelled past.  Some designs were instantly familiar, while others looked very different to anything he’d seen in his own universe.

Other-Gordon made a few more calls over the radio as they finished taxiing into position, and Scott settled back in the seat comfortably as they waited for permission to take off.

He had to admit he didn’t miss all the bureaucracy with Thunderbird One, and John acting as his ATC wherever he was in the world.  VTOL launches helped.

After another half a minute or so, the all-clear was given, and the Ladybird rumbled to life, surging forwards and up under Other-Gordon’s hands.

“Auckland Air Traffic Control to Tango Alpha Ladybird, your route is clear,” the radio crackled again.  “Have a safe flight.  Over.”

“Tango Alpha Ladybird to Auckland Air Traffic Control,” Other-Gordon replied. “Thank you.  Over and out.”  He fiddled with the radio for a moment.  “Ladybird to Tracy Island, come in.”

“Tracy Island receiving you, Ladybird,” Not-Dad’s voice filtered through. “How’s it going, Gordon?”

“We’ve just left Auckland, Father,” the ginger said.  “Estimated ETA in two hours.”

“I’ll let your grandmother know,” Not-Dad replied.  “You boys didn’t have any problems?”

“No, sir,” Other-Gordon said, to Scott’s relief.  “No problems.”

“Well, I expect to hear about your trip when you get back,” the man told them.  “I’ll see you then.  Tracy Island out.”

“Thanks,” Scott said after the connection ended.

“I’m still telling Scott,” Other-Gordon reminded him.  “But you can thank me by not judging my piloting the whole way back.  Stare at the clouds or something.”

Scott chuckled.  “I’ll do my best,” he said.  Other-Gordon just groaned.

“I am never piloting you anywhere ever again,” he swore.  “Cloud watch.  Don’t you dare look at what I’m doing.”

Scott rolled his eyes but obliged.

Like the outward journey, their return one passed in mostly silence, Other-Gordon focusing on piloting and Scott doing his best not to make idle comments whenever he didn’t react to changes in the air currents the same way he would.

He liked to think he was successful at it.  The aquanaut would no doubt disagree.

“I can still feel you judging me,” Other-Gordon grumbled eventually. Scott wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it seemed like they should be nearly there.

Up ahead was a small, rocky island.  It looked utterly unfamiliar, but Other-Gordon was straight on course for it.

“Home sweet home,” the aquanaut commented when he caught him looking at it. “The same?”

“The only similarity is that it’s volcanic,” Scott answered.  “Ours has twin peaks, to start with.”  This Tracy Island seemed to have some sort of plateau mountain, rather than the jagged peaks he was used to.  It also seemed less like it was making up part of the lip of a caldera.

“That’s interesting,” Other-Gordon hummed.  “Your house is nothing like ours either, is it?”

Considering he’d needed a map to find Other-Scott’s room earlier, Scott thought that was rather obvious.

“Not at all,” he said.  “Even the pool’s a different shape.  Ours is a regular Olympic-size pool.”

“Really?” Other-Gordon asked.  “I suppose that makes it easier to retract, though.  Easier to pilot through, too?”

“If I ever get the chance to compare, I’ll let you know,” Scott replied. Other-Gordon laughed.

“I should let them know we’re on approach,” he said, reaching for the radio again.  “Ladybird to Tracy Island.”

“Tracy Island receiving you, Ladybird.”  It was Other-Scott on the line this time.  “You’re clear to land.”

“F.A.B., Scott,” Other-Gordon acknowledged.

“How much damage control have you left me with?” Other-Scott continued. “Dad says you said there were no issues?”

“I’ll give you the run-down once we’re down,” the aquanaut told him. “There was paparazzi.”

“If I don’t like what they publish, you’d better watch your back, Gordon,” Other-Scott warned.  “I’ll meet you two in the hangar.  Tracy Island out.”

“Well, no sense in putting it off,” Other-Gordon commented as the line went dead.  “You want to hang around for the debrief?”

Scott shook his head, having no wish to stand around and listen to an account of what he’d already lived through.  “Just him,” he reminded.  “I’ll get changed while you do.”

“You finally get to change underwear,” the ginger commented, and Scott rolled his eyes.  “Coming up on the landing now.”

Sure enough, there was the runway, protruding out onto a pier and lined with palm trees.  Definitely Thunderbird Two’s runway, and now that they were approaching it, Scott could see the cragged rockface that no doubt moved somehow to reveal the giant cargo plane.  A little way up was a white building, built into the cliff.

He filed that away to ask about later, not wanting to interrupt the aquanaut as he brought them down onto the tarmac with a slight bump, decelerating until they were taxiing towards an open hangar door.  It wasn’t quite central to the runway, further cementing Scott’s conclusion that Thunderbird Two was just behind the cliff face.

To his relief, Other-Scott seemed to be alone, standing next to the blue beauty he’d spotted earlier, as Other-Gordon brought the Ladybird to a stop and started the post-flight checks.  Wherever the rest of the family were, it didn’t seem like they’d planned a welcoming committee, at least.

“So?” the older man asked once they left the cockpit, already at the cargo hold and looking at the bags.  “Dad seems convinced everything went fine, but you didn’t tell him about the paparazzi, did you?”  He was clearly talking to Other-Gordon, but his eyes flicked to Scott.

Scott shrugged and reached past him for the bags.  “Gordon’ll give you the run-down,” he said.  “I’m getting changed.”

“Don’t forget the underpants!” Other-Gordon chirped at him.  He rolled his eyes and walked away, but not fast enough to avoid overhearing the start of the conversation.  “I’m sworn to silence to everyone except you, and you’re only the exception because he’s your clone, so don’t even think about telling anyone,” the ginger said, quietly but not so quietly Scott couldn’t hear while he waited for the elevator to swallow him up.  “Which definitely includes Dad, by the way, but-”

The elevator doors clanged shut, cutting off the conversation.  Scott jabbed the button labelled second, which was also the highest option, so he assumed that was the bedroom level.

It was, and to Scott’s private delight there was no-one in the landing, so he managed to slip past the door to the lounge – out of which piano music seemed to be coming – and into the guest room designated as his without being intercepted.

Once there, he upended the bags over the bed, letting the neatly-wrapped parcels of clothes fall out haphazardly, before picking up clothes to get changed into.

It was a relief to finally get out of the waistcoat, shirt and slacks belonging to his counterpart, and even more of a relief to find himself wearing something that much more closely resembled his idea of casual.

Setting the discarded clothes to one side, he rummaged through the rest of the new clothes and set about hanging them up in the closet.  His uniform was where he’d left it, he was pleased to see. No doubt Other-Brains would request it at some point, but Scott intended on supervising his investigations.  It was good that it hadn’t just been taken while he was out.

A knock on the door startled him just as he was hanging the last pair of jeans.

Who would that be?  It could have been anyone on the island – although he suspected Other-Alan might be less inclined to seek him out, and Other-Gordon would probably announce himself, if he didn’t walk straight in.

It was honestly weird having anyone knock rather than just walk in. His brothers had long since stopped waiting to be invited in, although Virgil and John did at least announce themselves with a knock most of the time.

“It’s me.  Can I come in?”

Other-Scott.

Scott supposed he should have expected that one.  Did he want to talk to his doppelgänger?  Most of the island’s residents he could probably predict how the conversation was going to go, but ironically, Other-Scott seemed to be the hardest to read.

He guessed it was because he had no idea how he’d react if things were the other way around, and Other-Scott had ended up in his universe.

His gut told him he probably wouldn’t give up trying to have a conversation if he was going out of his way to initiate it.

“Yeah,” he called back, closing the closet door.  The door opened and Other-Scott walked in, closing it behind him.

“Is that what you wear at home?” he asked, blue eyes scanning the clothes Scott had changed into.

“As close as I could get,” Scott shrugged, sitting on the bed next to Other-Scott’s discarded clothes and folding them up, mostly for something to do with his hands.

“Dad’s not going to approve,” Other-Scott warned him.  “But if it makes you more comfortable, I don’t see the problem.” He picked up the hat and discarded sunglasses.  “You’ll have to stay out of sight whenever we have visitors anyway, so no-one’s going to see you.”

There was an awkwardness about the other man that Scott thought was uncharacteristic of himself, until he realised it was the same awkwardness he was feeling, because there were no guidelines in any training he’d undergone about how to interact with an alternate universe version of yourself.

“Are you checking up on me?” he asked abruptly.  It made sense if he was, after getting Other-Gordon’s account of the day, and Scott thought they’d do a lot better if they stopped trying to test the waters.

From the quirk of Other-Scott’s lips, it was a shared opinion.

“I heard what happened,” he confirmed.  “Gordon was adamant you don’t want anyone else to know, and I can understand that.”  He sighed. “This is weird,” he said, and Scott gave a wry smile in agreement.  “And maybe, considering you’re literally another me, I’m not the best person to talk to, but.  I’m here. If you have questions, or want sane conversation.”

“After a day with Gordon, sane conversation is sorely lacking,” Scott quipped, and Other-Scott laughed.

“I owe him a billiards match or ten now,” he said.  “Remind him he can’t actually beat me.”

“Little brothers,” Scott shrugged.  “Give them an inch, they’ll take a mile.”

“Some things don’t change wherever you are,” Other-Scott agreed. “Gordon said you recognised the Ladybird’s controls?”

“Yeah,” Scott confirmed.  “We’ve got a plane like that at home.”

“I’ll talk with Dad about taking you for a flight,” Other-Scott said. “Once we’ve established how much is familiar, we can figure out anything else.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Scott agreed.  Other-Scott grinned.

“I wonder which one of us is the better pilot,” he said.  “I’m looking forward to seeing you fly.”

That thought hadn’t occurred to Scott.  “Best pilot gets primary dibs for Thunderbird One?” he dared.

Other-Scott laughed.  “If it’s my ‘bird on the line, I’m not going to go easy on you,” he warned.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Scott replied, and they both laughed.

“Well, I’m going to go teach Gordon a lesson or ten now,” Other-Scott said. “You’re welcome to join us if you’re not sick of his company by now.”

Scott chuckled.  “I’d like to see that,” he said.  “He might be better at chess, but if he’s anything like mine, billiards is not so much his territory.”  He stood up, gathering the dirty clothes.  “Where’s the laundry room?  Might as well drop these off.”

“I’ll show you,” Other-Scott said, opening the door again and stepping into the hallway.  “It’s next to the games room.”  Scott followed him, letting the door close behind him.

Chapter 13>>>

[joontier]

The King’s Guard | Chapter 2

–> Pairings: kim seokjin x reader; jeon jungkook x reader

–> Rating:  R

–> Genre/warnings:  M U C H  A N G S T; y’all I even cried while writing this sksksk why do I torture myself like this; slightly graphic mentions of dead people, mentions of blood, super slight gore; suggestive language, SMUT AGAIN (voyeurism, shit why do i expose myself too much, petting, unprotected sex, kitchen sex) 

–> Word count: 8.8k

–> A/N: Korean vocabulary used will be placed at the end of the chapter :-) Also, all history indicated here is fictitious, then again, it is fan fiction after all. ALSO, GOOD LUCK WITH THE END OF THE CHAPTER ;) tell me whatcha think!!!

The King’s Guard - Masterlist  ||  navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 2

The warmth in the room makes you stir in bed, the sun’s rays attempting to peek through the paper windows creating too much discomfort for you to continue your beloved slumber. As you turn your body, you see a scroll accompanied by a carnation on your bedside table. Hastily reaching for the scroll, your other hand clutches onto the blanket to cover your chest.

Your stomach drops. With trembling hands, you open the message. No, No, No. NO!  

“My love,

Truthfullly, I do not know where to begin, nor do I know why I am writing this in the first place. What I can be somehow certain of is that I do not have full confidence that my plans shall come into fruition. I guess this letter shall provide me with the least solace for my judgments. The matters of the south have cost me sleepless nights and days, moments that I could regrettably have spent with you, and for that I am truly sorry. It pains me that you might have perceived last night a selfish act to heed to the wants of the flesh but know that every word I have uttered during our throes of passion was not made in jest.

I will not have to lie – you carrying my children, the two of us finally creating a family – the thought alone gives me unparalleled happiness. In the near future, I desire twelve children with you representing the twelve lunar animals, that is, if you allow me to do so. I will be satisfied with eleven, if you must.

Great is the pain that I have to bear with my decision, but great too is the weight of my duties to my country. You of all people have reminded me of that. It is treason against the country for me not to find a way to make amends, yet is treason against my heart to have left you like this.

Alas, I too am scared myself with this journey that I must take, but your love and prayers shall give me strength. My queen, I ask you to not worry much for I did not come unprepared, for I have brought with me the greatest warriors known to our nation, and they shall stand by my side, should the time come that our peaceful exertions shall lead to one of violence.

If, however, may our ancestors and the gods forbid, that the circumstances shall not permit me to return to you, the only love of my life, I cannot ask you remain alone without me in this cruel world because that would be most selfish of me. Live and indulge yourself in the pleasures of life, my dove, continue your flight in this world even if it no longer has me in it.

If I truly have gone for good, I want you to be happy. I am begging you to be happy. Find a man that shall love you from the tiny mole by your forehead to the tips of your toes. Find a man that shall cherish you for your entire being, find someone that shall bestow upon you love more than you deserve, just as you have done the same to me and to the people around you.

Let this reassurance console you that the happiest days of my life have been from your love and affection, and that I die loving only you and with a fervent hope that our souls shall be reunited after this and will have to part no more. Just because I would have passed away does not mean I am not with you, I will always be here looking over you, keeping you safe. Should the day come that you succumb to the sadness of my loss, just close your eyes and I will be by your side in an instant.

This is goodbye to your kisses that shall continue to linger on my lips even if I could not have them again. This is goodbye to your caresses that have kept me warm during the harsh, cold winters. This is goodbye to your endless patronizing that has grounded me through the many decisions I had to make. And finally, this is goodbye to you, my angel, my sweet carnation.

With every word written comes forth a tear, and I fear that I may not finish this letter without wetting the entire page. I will have to leave shortly, and now I will leave your security to the hands of our new captain. He has my trust.

Know that I would have traded a decade of my life just to spend ten more breaths with you. I love you, my queen, with all that I was, with all that I am, and with all that I ever will be.

Seokjin”

A loud, broken sob escapes your lips. Your cheeks become wet with tears, visible wet patches staining your blanket. You let yourself fall back to the bed, body crumpling in anguish. How could you have let him go? You curse at yourself for letting sleep take over you again earlier, when he was already at arm’s reach, so close to forbid him from leaving.

You stay like that on the bed for a few moments, body quaking with distress and clutching onto the piece of paper close to your chest. This was it. Although there was still a part of you that Seokjin will come home to you in one piece, your brain is already betraying you with images of your husband covered in blood, left lifeless in the middle of the road.

Crying harder at the image, you try to muffle them with your blankets that vaguely smell of Seokjin. Your chest constricts. You already know he had intentions of visiting the south even with your constant reminders of the dangers of the south. Your heart clenches when you recall the one time you had argued about it.

‘It’s a lost cause, Seokjin.’ You already felt that one thing was going to lead to another and this conversation was definitely going to end up in an argument.

“What I am I supposed to do here then? Stand and join festivities while my own people are being attacked by rebellious troops? While riots occur on the daily? While there are people dying of hunger on the streets?”

“No! I- That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what am I to do then?!”

“I just—If you go there…” You hiccup, unable to continue when your lips start to tremble. You choke as you suppress a sob, covering your face with your hands as you start to bawl your heart out. Seokjin flees toward you, apologizing profusely as he had probably scared you with the risen pitch of his voice. “Shhh,” he engulfs you in a hug, pulling you close to him.

You begin to calm down after some time, the warmth of Seokjin’s body easily consoling you. Your husband doesn’t let go when you finally catch your breath and your grip tightens around his waist, creasing his durumagi.

With your voice slightly muffled as your mouth is pressed against your husband’s chest, you continue talking, knowing that Seokjin will have no problem comprehending your words. “I’ve lost everyone because of them Seokjin. My father, my real mother, my friends…” you sniff, wiping your cheeks with the sleeves of your jeogori. “Please,” you beseech, “I can’t lose you to them too,” your voice cracks at the thought, eyes brimming with tears once more.

“I won’t let that happen, love.” He doesn’t know that.

You feel your chest starting to heave again, Seokjin slowly guides you to the bed, seats you both, and lets you lay your head on his lap as he rests his own on the wall adjacent to the bed. Gently, he strokes your hair until you finally, truly calm down this time, silent tears now rolling down your cheeks.

The words are heavy on your lips, every emotion rolling off your tongue as you say the words you dread the most. “They’re going to kill you Seokjin.” You take his hand and rest it against your cheek, his hand still seemingly larger with the way your two hands are clutching onto it. You continue with bated breath, “Maybe even before you enter the southern gates, maybe even before you get a single step out of the capitol...” Your voice comes down to a whisper when you repeat your earlier words. “They are going to kill you.”

You tilt your head a little to take a good look at your husband. You see the faint stubble just under his chin. He probably hasn’t shaved yet with the lack of free time on his hands. Shamelessly, you always imagine what he’d look like with a beard but you’re willing to bet your life that he’d be just as handsome as he is now. He keeps on shaving it, much to your dismay, countering that he doesn’t want you to feel and discomfort or itch when he kisses you. You’ll have to leave your bearded Seokjin fantasies somewhere in the future. If the future still has Seokjin in it.

In the past, the five major cities of Korea never got along. It was more of an unspoken rivalry for years on end between the kings and their subjects. People from the east took pride on their agricultural lands and livestock, the westerners’ livelihood depends heavily on lumber, northerners brag about their coal mining and fishery, the south leads the nation’s masonry and defense, and finally, the capitol is the center of textile and is otherwise known as the home of the scholars.

Combined together, this nation would have been unconquerable. But these royals are still human beings and human beings are vulnerable to temptation, constantly fueled by the idea of acquiring something that another does not have.

Unfortunately, a nation with citizens that had no sense of nationalism was the perfect target, the easiest to penetrate for the colonizers. The promises of an alliance to a foreign nation seemed to great an offer to decline. Fools. Just like that, the foreigners tricked each king to go against the other cities – their own people, their own blood. Empty promises drilled into empty heads. Blinded by inane vows of wealth and power, these people who call themselves leaders never knew they were being deceived altogether.

That is, until King Seokwoo of the capitol, Seokjin’s father, realized the deception early enough to stop the war but too late to pacify the nation’s internal turmoil. With his heart and dignity on the line, the brave king of the capitol had gone to the other kings to make them realize their mistakes, their greed, and their shameless thirst for power.

Nobody wanted to believe him at first, not when he too was a part of it all. He apologized in court – the one thing a king never does. He put his pride on the line for the country he loves, bowing his head in front of the other kings, and their respective advisors. King Seokwoo knew he was going to lose his credibility like this with his heart and pride on his sleeve, but only he knew, and only he understood, that a king should not be loyal to the throne and the power it holds, but to his country.

Only when he revealed the scrolls of plans he stole from the colonizers that they collectively decided to temporarily set aside their present caprices and decree a pact for the good of the nation. For once in a very long time, the kings had agreed on one thing.

That night, they had agreed to choose a king to lead the fight against the colonizers – the king who would lead Korea back to greatness. Three kings, in honor of Seokwoo’s bravery and humility, chose him to be the leader of the nation. Only one king of a city voted against Seokwoo as King of Korea – your father.

“My Queen?” A soft voice calls from outside your door. Haesoo.  

“Leave, Haesoo.”

“Jungjeon-mama, please. You have not left your room all morning, and lunch—”

“I said leave!”

You recoil the moment the words spill from your mouth. You hadn’t meant to snap at her, she was your favorite court lady after all. She was stubborn, above all things, and you likened her to your younger self that’s why she earned your favor the most. But her adamancy only causes her more trouble, especially in times like these. Perhaps her slight insensitivity came with her youth? You’re certain that you’ve caused worry because of your audible wailing earlier, but company was the last thing you needed right now.

“Yes my Queen.” She replies, voice small.

You don’t know how long you stay in bed like that, watching your chest rise and fall under the covers with every breath. Your head is swirling in emotions – fear, anger, misery. As you continue to stare into the ceiling, your stomach grumbles so you deem it wise that you have at least one meal for today - just enough to satiate your hunger and give you strength to face the rest of the day. But not before indulging yourself in your favorite bath first.

You stay much longer in the bath today – letting the water cause wrinkles in the pads of your fingers. Shoving your husband’s image to the back of your head temporarily, your thoughts drift to other the other predicaments you have to face while Seokjin is away. ‘You have to be strong,’ you mutter to yourself. For Seokjin. For the future. For Korea.

The court ladies get startled when you suddenly rise from the pool, one of them hurriedly draping a towel over you. You let her lead the way to a dressing room where your royal garments are neatly folded on a table. Staring at your reflection on the mirror, your eyes linger on the red marks littered across your torso. You feel your chest constrict one more time. Taking a deep breath, you repeat to yourself. ‘For Seokjin. For the future. For Korea.’

Chaeyoung waits until you have worn your undergarments and helps you with the rest of your hanbok. You can feel the nervousness radiating off her, clammy hands tying the ribbons on your dress. You can’t really blame her; this was probably the first time they have seen you this cold and distant. You usually made small talk with the court ladies, genuinely curious about their individualities and because they’re the closest you can get to your subjects.

Certainly, Seokjin’s leave also has the whole palace on edge. Everybody was aware of what was going on in the south, and with their king’s sudden absence this morning, word has been going around in the palace. You’re thankful that the palace workers are discreet with their whispering, but these wooden walls were never thick enough to maintain secrecy between two people.

You leave the room as soon as Chaeyoung finishes and you come face to face with a familiar red and white uniform. “Wangbi,” Captain Jung greets as he bows his head. “Captain.” You acknowledge, finding yourself looking up at him when you do so – he was taller than you expected him to be.

“I am under the King’s orders to watch you wherever you go, my Queen.” He tails after you when you start walking.

“And does that include the private royal baths Captain?” You turn to face him again.

He gets flustered at your question, quickly averting his gaze from you. Looking down, the captain shakes his head, muttering under his breath something along the lines of ‘security’ and ‘king’s orders’.

You don’t know what urged you to tease him like that – probably because of his innocent-like features that makes him so tease-worthy, but since his arrival and inauguration as captain of the royal guards, you can’t help but get drawn to the man. Sure, he was attractive with attributes of youthful exuberance on his face, that, and that he was a finely built man, taut muscles hiding underneath those silken robes. At least, that’s what you presume from listening to the whispers among the court ladies.

They also said he’s had quite the reputation from where he came from in the East, famous for his looks and even more famous for his ways of luring skirts to his bed. So, you’ve heard. Genuinely surprised at how these rumors even came out in the first place, it still makes you laugh when you recall the obscenity of it all, despite the court ladies supposedly being the spitting image of modesty observed in the palace.

The rumors are true. You could easily attest to that as you have personally witnessed it once, how the captain could easily captivate women with his face alone. But his charm wasn’t the reason why you seem to magnetize towards the captain.

During their inauguration day, as you were too preoccupied with how dashing your husband looks in official robe, you hadn’t been paying attention to the event, let alone the emotional speech that the captain shared to the crowd. It was only when you caught sight of the scar on his left cheek that got you so curious. You wonder where you’ve seen that scar before. He looks familiar. He feels familiar. You can’t put a finger on it right now, but you certainly feel like you’ve known Jung Jungkook from somewhere, sometime in your past.

You don’t realize you’re lost in your thoughts when a hand suddenly pulls you back by your elbow, stopping you from walking straight to a wall. “Jungjeon-mama!” The lady beside you exclaims. “My Queen, are you okay?” The captain behind you asks, his grip now loosening on your elbow. You nod sheepishly, dismissing the whole fiasco with an awkward cough.

“You can go ahead, Chaeyoung. I’ll be back by sunset. Make sure dinner is ready by then.” The court lady nods curtly in acknowledgment and bows before leaving the both of you. You turn your head to look at Jungkook who continues to stand by your side. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way, your Highness.”

You plan on spending the rest of your day in one of the most serene places in the palace. Besides yours and Seokjin’s garden, the doltap shrine is another place you head to for peace and quiet. The shrine, complete with a mini pavilion, is situated on a small hill, surrounded by the beauty of nature – a place so perfectly serene that only monks and royalty are allowed to visit to maintain its tranquility.

It’s significantly father than any other house or office in this palace that it requires quite a tedious, long walk and a boat ride across the Gaeun river. This is why you rarely visit the shrine, but on the days that you do, the wearisome trek is always rewarding. It’s perhaps part of the whole process of meditation, you presume, as the shrine is a place where you offer your greatest, deepest prayers.

The captain trudges behind you, unable to cope with your leisurely pace. He quickens his steps when he sees he’s falling behind, but when he deems he’s walking too close to you he slows his pace once more until he has to catch up again. You become curious at his strange feat, unable to stop yourself from asking him about it.

“Captain, have you not taken a leisurely walk like this before?”

“My deepest apologies, Mama. I am really not used to a pace like this.”

Who knew the greatly feared captain could be so mildly…amusing? Jungkook gets surprised when you let out a giggle after having stared at him for a moment at his confession. He is unable to stop the small smile etching into his face at the beautiful sound, deciding it’s something he wants to hear all day long.

“You are a mirthful one, Jung.”

There is a skip in the man’s heartbeat when he hears you say his surname – or, at least, the surname he’s been using since his arrival at the capitol. He supposes it satisfactory that he’s made you comfortable around him, enough for you to call him by his alias. Not like you were going to be on a first name basis anyways. Jungkook found it easier to keep up with your pace after your verdict.

You were beautiful. Well, you still are, and probably will be for a very long time. He wonders if you already had your portrait painted. It used to be a hobby he thoroughly learned and enjoyed from where he’s from and now it has blossomed into a business around his past village, selling portraits for a few silver coins. He takes pride in his paintings, having learned the skill from the virtuoso himself – his father. He was the first man in Korea to add colors to a drawing, bringing forth life to an inanimate illustration.

Even if Jungkook painted you though, it would probably be useless for him to do so, because a portrait - even if done on the finest paper or painted with the brightest colors, could never capture your real beauty, nor give justice to it. In the past, he had heard stories of what the queen of the capitol looked like, but none of these rumors had prepared him for the genuineness of it all. Your beauty was indescribable, but Jungkook only knew one description that fit you the best – that you are the epitome of a woman’s unadulterated pulchritude.

Jungkook could not question why the king is absolutely smitten with you, admittedly, the rest of the nation is. If you were a lady that belonged to the same class, he would have tried to capture your heart from the very start. Maybe in another life, perhaps. But to him, it wasn’t just your pretty face that made you so riveting.

Unlike any other woman in the nation, you were headstrong, refusing to submit to the societal morals and principles. You were the only woman who would stand proud and tall amongst a sea of men, and one gaze from you had the power to intimidate both man and woman alike. Undoubtedly, you were raised like that: to be the queen – with your childhood nurtured with doctrines and routines only afforded to a king in the making. That fact he knew all too well.

When you look to your left, he spots a red mark on your neck, just below the smooth slope of your jawline. He flushes at the sight of the rose-colored blotch staring back at him, the base of his neck turning red at the recollection of the events last night. Jungkook can see your lips moving as you talk but he can’t seem to hear you, let alone take his eyes off the love bite on your neck.

“Captain Jung?”

Jungkook coughs to mask his surprise, “Sorry, Jungjeon-mama. I thought I saw something in the woods. It must’ve been a squirrel or a small animal.” You nod your head in acknowledgement and reply, “We still must be wary. There are…people…who do not mean well…” your words fade, voice cracking at the thought of your husband. Jungkook notices your anxiety.

“I will protect you with my life, my Queen. Please do not worry.”

“Of course, Captain Jung. I believe you.” Giving him a small smile, you continue walking, your shoes softly squishing against the green dewy grass. It’s a beautiful day today: the sky is clear and the sun is out, compared to your heart which is now clouded with storms and thunder. You shall try not to dwell on your emotions today.

“So, enlighten me Captain.”

“Ah, but Mama, my life may not measure up to yours in terms of adventure.”

You raise an eyebrow at his reply. Your life story isn’t known to many, even a number of the citizens don’t even know you are a southerner. Gazing into Jungkook’s eyes, you look for any mysterious truth hiding beneath them, but you’re only faced with his curious doe-like eyes. You’re conflicted if you’re supposed to feel disappointed or not if he was truly a part of your past, but you’ll have to leave that for another time.

“Surely, it can’t be that uninteresting.”

“If you insist, Jungjeon-mama. But don’t complain if you fall asleep before we reach the shrine.” The captain knows he’s pushing the line by teasing you like this, but the way you roll your eyes at him tells him you feel otherwise.

He tells the story he’s practiced endless times lacing a few truths from his past. “Well, I belong to a family of four. My parents work in the fields and my brother and I would play in them all day long until my mother would call us back in for supper. During the Great Colonization, my father used to serve King Donggeun of the East…” He steps aside to make way, a hand shooting out to help you to an elevated part of the head of the bridge. You place your hand on his gratefully, your feet taking quite the leap.

He continues with his monologue, “My mother always told us that she never thought father would never survive the Great Colonization. Even before the pact, there had already been attacks on the borders, the rivalry too much for people who call themselves citizens of the same nation. He had come home greatly wounded one night and my mother was crying so much that she could barely treat my father’s wounds. He had even offered her a literal bloody hand with the treatment, causing my mother to cry more, complaining about how he could have found pleasantries at such a grievous time.”

“Thankfully, the pact has been completed before things ultimately became worse. He was called to fight again to drive off the colonizers, but with the people from all the cities fighting as one force, casualties from our troops were only at the minimum. He has fought side by side with King Deonggeun and even saved the late king’s life at one instance. He had been promoted to a higher rank since then.” He pauses his narrative momentarily when your hand hooks around his elbow, clutching onto him as you go down a light slope to where a narrow dock is situated.

The captain tries not to be obvious about his astonishment at your actions as he places his hand over it, supporting your balance when you place a foot inside the boat. “But with a promotion in the military ranks comes more visits in the palace, and more visits in the palace only lead to one thing: King Donggeun taking an interest in my mother.” Your hand flies to your mouth to mask your shock. And just moments ago, he thought his life wasn’t supposedly as colorful as yours?

When Jungkook finally seats himself, he grabs at the oars and starts to row. It would have been fun if Haesoo had gone with, as you would inevitably tease her with her ogling the captain. She would’ve gushed at how his muscles must ripple underneath the uniform, or how his chest puffs out with every row. As your favorite court lady occupies your thoughts, you reckon that you owe her an apology later.  

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened next?” The captain lets out a chuckle at your wide-eyed curiosity. “Of course, Mama. I am a man of manners. A story must have a beginning and an end.”

“King Donggeun tried to conceal his feelings at first. But the rumored loss of his wife was too great of a sadness for him to bear. And he longed for the kind of comfort only a woman could give. Soon enough, father noticed the king’s longing looks, knowing all too well the sentiments the king hid behind his eyes. After all, he too was a man in love and a firm believer of the famous saying ‘the eyes are windows to our souls’.” The captain says the words with such drama that you fail to suppress the giggle that escapes your lips. Jungkook’s own lips twitch, chest beaming with pride with the fact that he has made you laugh twice today.

“Things kept in hiding will always come out, one way or another. And so, the king ended up confessing his feelings to my mother. He had begged her to be his concubine, even when they both knew she was tied to another. She fled from the king’s arms that night in fear and confusion, telling the whole confession to my father with teary eyes.”

The captain slows his rowing, creating small ripples against the clear water.

“That same night, my father learned that love meant having to constantly make sacrifices for the better, even if we end up losing that which matters most in our hearts. What the king wants, the king gets,” the captain’s lips fall into a tight-lipped smile. “There was too much at risk, my father couldn’t say no to his own king. Needless to say, even if we did eventually get to live nearer the palace, mother’s visits became less frequent, and soon our mother became only a figment of our imagination.”

Each word of the captain struck at your heart. You had never expected so many shared similarities in your past. His eyes are swimming with emotion. Not once had you seen a royal guard like this, looking so vulnerable, so human in front of your eyes.

“With nothing to lose, the three of us left the eastern city and headed to the capitol. We begged for food and slept on the streets for days until a family took pity and welcomed us into their home. When the father of the family introduced himself as a royal guard, my father offered his services as payment for their kindness.”

When you’ve reached the other side of the river, Jungkook sets the oars aside before guiding you up to the dock. You wait under the shade of a nearby tree until he’s fixated the boat properly onto the dock. He approaches you, dusting his pants with his hands. “Where were we? Ah. The kind family. I, too, have also had a realization here in the capitol. Happiness does not last for long, so we have to learn how to live each day with glee and gratitude.” You both continue the walk, with each step getting closer to your destination.

“A few days after our arrival, my brother caught this incurable illness. We had consulted every physician in the city, but all our efforts were in vain. My father and I had to lay him to rest just when we thought we had started a new life here in the capitol.”

“My father? Like I had mentioned during our inauguration, my father sacrificed his life for his country. Because he loves our nation, and because he loves us. All he wanted was a bright future for me, and for my mom as well, though he’d never admit that out loud. He never stopped loving her, even when she exchanged her family for the kind of life we could never give her.”

“Well, Mama. Are you sufficiently enlightened now?” You stay quiet at first, reciting a prayer to the gods and to your ancestors and you place another stone on the pile of rocks.

“I am Jungkook. I am.”

The journey to the south was filled with dread from the very start. The troop left the capital in silence, every man anxious of what is to come. Or rather, who awaits their coming. Seokjin had not said anything before they exited the gates of the capital because he knew words of encouragement would have done nothing to soothe the disquietude evident amongst them. The company had chosen to take a shortcut through the woods, one that will allow them to reach their destination within a shorter period of time.

They already have been traveling for quite some time, yet it feels like they have been for days. There are far fewer villages near the woods where there are to pass, but Seokjin had not expected this particular village to be so different from the others.

Dust rises when the horses halt, Seokjin abruptly putting up his fist in the air. It’s eerily quiet. Empty stalls of goods stand with no merchant behind them. Houses feel empty, with no person coming out and about. A gust of wind passes them, like an omen being whispered into their ears. The hairs at the back of Seokjin’s neck rise.

“What happened here?” A guard from the front asks.

“Jeonha, look!” Another shouts, pointing to a nearby house. A boy comes forth and walks, limps rather, towards them. Seokjin dismounts from his horse and takes a few steps forward. He lets the child come to him, the king lowering on his knees to receive the child. The child approaches Seokjin with a steady pace and with one final step left, he loses all his strength and falls. Luckily, Seokjin’s reflexes are quick enough so he catches the child before he falls to the ground.

“It’s quiet now,” the child mumbles. He takes a deep breath, body quaking with exertion as he does. “They came here…took everything…killed everyone and…s-south,” Seokjin holds him tighter as the boy’s breathing shallows, “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” He consoles, tears swelling in his eyes as he gently rocks the child in his arms. The boy’s chest stops heaving and he finally closes his eyes. The king’s fingers fly to the child’s neck, looking for a pulse. None. Seokjin’s brows come together in anger, his beautiful face contorting into one of rage.

He stands, the boy in his arms now seemingly smaller and lighter than before. “Namjoon, with me. The rest of you, check the village. See if anybody is still alive, go over every house, every room, every corner. If you see a southerner lurking around, bring him to me.” Seokjin orders. “And I’ll execute him myself.”

As the troop disperses, Seokjin commands Kim Namjoon to look for a shovel and follow him to nearby open lot afterwards. Thankfully, the king doesn’t need to tell the guard what to do. As Namjoon digs a hole, Seokjin gently lays the child on a wooden bench while he looks for a cloth to wrap him in. His heart breaks for this child – that the young boy had to go through so much at such a young age, and now at the time of his death, he couldn’t even be afforded with proper burial rites.

The burial was shorter than expected and Seokjin ends the rite with a prayer to his ancestors and the gods above. The pair sit beside the child’s makeshift resting place for a while, both in deep contemplation. Their reverie is cut short when another guard calls from behind, “Jeonha,” he calls again, breathless, “there is something you must see.”

He leads the pair through the woods and towards a small clearing, where the troop has gathered around. “What’s this?” Seokjin takes his steps cautiously, the group beginning to make way for the king. Once the path clears, Seokjin stops in his tracks. From his peripheral, he sees Namjoon’s failed attempt to not gag at the scene before them.

The villagers. The stench. The message.

Seokjin tries to close his eyes, wanting to forget he even saw something this terrible. But no, the image has already etched itself into his memory forever. He can’t even imagine what type of human would have the guts to do this…monstrosity?

Scattered across the clearing are the villagers, stacked on top of each other, the formation with a similarity uncanny with the rock formation in front of them. The villagers were piled behind the doltap, where one muddy hand from each pile reaches out, holding a scroll with the words written with the villager’s own blood. “You can never keep us out.”

Seokjin’s hands ball into fists as he realizes what instigated this massacre. During the height of the turmoil in the south, he had sent out a proclamation weeks ago to implore the entire nation to remain strong and as one amidst these trying times which put their patriotism to the test.

The doltap is a stack of stones, usually erected at village entrances – a natural representation of guardians of the village, keeping away the bad and inviting the good. It had been tradition for people to pile rocks on top of each other along with symbolisms of their intentions placed near the stack.

Since the proclamation, the citizens had been placing more and more objects in front of their shrines, like a bowl of rice grains or the emblem of the south. Inevitably infuriated with this new practice, the southerners wrecked village after village in rage, leaving nothing but desolation in their wake. These people are but a number from the villages they victimized. Seokjin is lucky this is first and only village he will see.

The sky is a purplish pink by the time they have finished the burial rites for the village. “The sun is setting,” Seokjin announces to the group, “we will take shelter and camp there, by the woods. It will not be smart to individually use the houses here.”

Nobody could sleep a wink that night, especially not the king. He supposed no one could ever, not when you had just witnessed such a horrific sight. He continues to stare at the moon, head swarming with endless thoughts. As he rests his head against the bark of the oak tree, Seokjin’s thoughts race to you, what could you possibly be doing in this hour, if you were thinking of him right now. If you’d taken supper or skipped your meals today. You always did that when you were upset, and he had no doubt you were.

“Namjoon,” Seokjin calls to the trusted guard. Namjoon has been like him the whole night, staring into the distance, curious what the future might hold for them.

“Namjoon.” He calls again, this time with a louder voice, successfully getting the younger man’s attention.

“Jeonha,” Namjoon turns, “my sincerest apologies, but the moon seems to have a wonderful glow tonight. Might this be a good sign?” The guard bows, shame coloring his face as he got caught preoccupied with other things on his mind.

“I too fervently wish for that…I…” He was not about to make the same mistake to Namjoon. Seokjin gets frustrated at the thought of always being a step behind the enemy. He’s made this mistake with Minseok, and he wasn’t about to do the same with Namjoon.

“You wanted to say something, my King?”

“I…I just wanted to thank you, for always being loyal to the throne.” Seokjin is all too aware of what the people are saying. They are his people after all. He ought to know them best. They’re blaming him for these agonizing events, if he just hadn’t sent that proclamation, then this wouldn’t have happened in the first place.

“Only because the throne is worth being loyal to.” Namjoon replies, not missing a beat.

“So,” the king moves to a lighter topic, not wanting to ruin the illustrious mood afforded by the bright sky like this night. “how is the romance in your life? Haesoo, is it?”

The younger man gets caught off-guard, startled at the king’s sudden inquiry and knowledge. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, jeonha,” Namjoon looks down, cheeks starting to tinge with a blush. ‘He can’t give this away’, the guard thinks, suddenly all too aware that the king is sitting right beside him. As all of them had taken a pledge of loyalty to throne and the throne alone, so a relationship between workers of the palace was considered taboo, at least, until Seokjin’s reign.

“Namjoon. I am speaking to you as a friend. And even if I did speak to you as king of the nation, who am I to take control of the matters of the heart? You yourself can’t seem to help it. What more of I?”

“Jeonha, please tell me. What does love feel like?”

“Love comes in many forms, my friend. In fact, it’s everywhere. Personally, I think it’s what makes the world go around, if the studies and calculations of astronomer Lee is correct. What we’re doing right now is love, love for our country, our citizens. The memorials we hold for our late relatives is also a commemoration of our love. Love is not exclusive to human relations though, there is love for animals, love for nature…” The king turns to face the young guard who blinks owlishly back at him.

“I know that wasn’t the kind of love you’re asking about. I’m getting there, worry not, my friend. I just needed context.” Seokjin looks away, partly embarrassed at himself. “As I was saying… there is one kind of love however that I treasure the most, and for me, it’s the kind of love that enraptures you the most: the love for a special person. I hate to say this, but it’s something so complex that it’s indescribable. It makes you feel plenty of emotions all at the same time. For instance, when you see her, you feel your heart pumping out of your chest, or sometimes your heart constricts at the realization that she’s yours and yours alone.”

“That wasn’t that much of a help was it?” Seokjin sighs defeatedly.

“Can I be honest with you, jeonha?” The king nods. “No, not really.” The pair chuckle at that, both relieved that at least they found something to laugh about tonight.

Heaving a sigh, Namjoon turns to face him with glossy eyes. “Well, it is unfortunate that we are not lovers then. Yet. Then I shall ask her to be my betrothed, if we come home.”

“When, Namjoon. When we come home.”

The two continue return their eyes to the moon. It looks bigger tonight. Astronomer Lee says bigger moons bring about luck to all those who look upon it, Seokjin fervently hoping that this journey might somehow be in their favor.

You’ve been tossing around in bed for quite some time now, unable to sleep. Perhaps a cup of milk would do the trick, you thought, pulling the covers away from your body. You wrap a robe over the flimsy garment you usually sleep in and head over to the secret door of your room. It’s been specifically designed to blend in with the wall, only to be used in worst-case scenarios.

Sliding the door open, you creep out of your room, dragging your cotton-clad feet against the wooden floor to make minimal sounds. You head to the bridge connecting your hanok to the palace kitchen. You don’t realize you’re too concentrated on not making noise that you don’t notice the body in front of you. “Jungjeon-mama?” the guard asks, peering down at you. “I’ll just get something from the kitchen, I will be quick.” Discretion could only last for so long. He bows and moves out of the way.

Rummaging through the kitchen as quietly as you can, you silently curse at yourself for not bringing a lamp with you, now all you can do is sniff at the vessels of liquid, hoping that you’ll uncover the right one. Thankfully, you manage to choose the right vessel in no time. As your eyes had adjusted to the light, you manage to grab a ladle and a nearby bowl with almost no noise at all.

As you pour yourself some milk, you return the cover and rest your behind against the table.

You figure it’s time to apologize to her. As you open your mouth to call, a male voice beats you to it. “You’re so beautiful.” Mouth parting in mild surprise, your eyes widen, searching for the voice’s owner. You couldn’t make out who’s voice it belonged to as it was said just barely above a whisper, and you continue peeking through the small space when your eyes land on the captain.

Your hand shoots over your mouth as your lips fall wider apart. It’s finally happening! But wait… you stand up straighter in realization. Namjoon? You’ve heard the guard has been harboring affection towards your favorite court lady for quite some time now. Seokjin was first to notice it, pointing out how Namjoon would sneak glances at Haesoo whenever you were together, both parties walking as one. You heart clenches at the perplexity of the situation.

Surely you’re not meant to stay here and watch the spectacle? Milk was what you came here for, you remind yourself, but like always, curiosity gets the best of you. Jungkook takes another step towards Haesoo, who seems frozen at her spot. Do something lady! You watch as the captain slowly reaches out his hand, the back of his fingers gently caressing the lady’s face. Haesoo leans towards the man’s touch.

“May I?” Jungkook asks, eyes searching for any signs of doubt in Haesoo’s. The girl nods curtly and without waiting any further, Jungkook closes the distance between them. Watching their lips move in sync, you take this as your cue to leave, that is, until you hear a pot clanging against the floor. Your line of vision suddenly returns to the couple to check if someone got hurt, only to find out quite the opposite.

Jungkook has already backed up Haesoo to lean against a table adjacent to the wall. The captain lifts her with ease to sit on the table, Haesoo pulling her knees apart so she could properly hold onto the man, her nimble fingers pulling at Jungkook’s hair. The captain starts smothering her with kisses all over her cheeks, jaws, and neck like a frenzied, starved man. You can’t look away, not when Haesoo is failing miserably at her attempt to keep her whimpering at bay.  

Jungkook’s fingers work deftly in undoing the ribbons on her hanbok, lips still trained on lavishing her skin with kisses. As the garment falls easily from Haesoo’s shoulders, Jungkook’s large hand palms her breast while the other is busy kneading the expanse of her thigh. The captain revels in Haesoo’s pliancy, with the girl tilting her head back at Jungkook’s ministrations, begging him for more.  

Her hanbok is completely off her torso now, the silk bunching up at hips. Jungkook takes this moment to take a hardened nipple between his lips and swirling his tongue around it as a hand squeezes the supple flesh of the other. Haesoo mewls at the captain’s actions, back arching, words no longer needed to show what she wants, what she desires.

This is wrong. You aren’t supposed to be watching such a private moment, let along seemingly enjoying it. Like Haesoo earlier, you’re just as frozen in your spot as she was.

You no longer see much of Haesoo torso, considering their proximity, but you see Jungkook’s hand removing itself from the assault on her breasts, traveling to her core. She shivers when Jungkook’s fingers swipes against her folds and raising his fingers under the moonlight seeping through the window, observing how wet the tips of his fingers are due to the court lady’s essence.

“Look at you,” Jungkook murmurs in a low voice, watching the slick coating his fingers. “So wet and ready for me. I bet I’d slip right in hmm?”

“Please,” Haesoo begs, hiding her face between his shoulders in pleading. “I need you.” Jungkook seems to have no problem complying, abruptly bring his pants down to his thighs.

You don’t see much due to the lack of light in the room and their compromising position on the table, but this seems all the more thrilling like this. You reprimand yourself, as if Seokjin was lacking in bed. But you have not tried being intimate anywhere else but your room and his office – and the thought of doing it at such a common place like the kitchen where anyone from the palace could easily enter excites you in the strangest way possible.

Surely you can’t be going crazy, can you? Is it normal to find such a spectacle so strangely arousing? The sight of two lovers getting intimate?

Jungkook gently lays her down on the table, pushing her down by her shoulders. He parts her legs wider before adjusting his stance and slowly thrusting his hips forward. Your jaw slackens the same time with Haesoo. You feel your own nipples harden at the sight, the sensitive buds trying to pry through the material.

He pauses for a moment, letting Haesoo adjust to the feeling as his head tilts back, the lady’s velvety walls clenching wonderfully around his cock. When Haesoo tilts her hips, Jungkook takes this as a sign to start moving, each roll of his hips earning a whimper from the writhing girl beneath him. A few more slow rolls and Jungkook thrusts harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping ricocheting against the walls.

A gasp escapes your mouth when the captain maneuvers her legs to rest against his chest and the two stop at once, heads shooting up to look for where the voice came from. Haesoo winces when Jungkook pulls out and puts his pants up.

You flee from the kitchen at once, Jungkook abruptly looking for the intruder, he catches a glimpse of your white-clad figure run towards the door and he briefly questions himself who could you possibly be, but the royal seal at the back of your robe is a little too hard to miss.

Seokjin’s eyelids start to droop, sleep finally taking over him when he hears rustling behind. Namjoon, equally alerted by the sound, stands up and looks around. “Jeonha, we might have company. Please stand.”

It’s awfully quiet now, and the two of them are unsure of its because the troop has fallen asleep or… or if the unspeakable happened… They take a few cautious steps in separate ways, eyes scanning every tree surrounding them.

They wake the troop in silence, warning them of possible danger coming their way. Namjoon orders the company to stay more vigilant than usual, especially in the dark where they won’t able to see if an enemy is lurking around or not. Suddenly a guard falls to the ground, a bow lodged in his back.

“Watch the trees!” Seokjin shouts before chaos ensues. Men coming from all directions charge towards them, the sound of steel clashing against steel echoing throughout the forest. Seokjin’s troop is outnumbered greatly, he realizes. They have to escape before everyone gets killed. “Guards, fall back!” his arms are getting tired too but he can’t find the strength to give up, not when he sees his men falling one by one.

Time seems to slow down around him as he watches each royal guard get shot or stabbed to their death. He backs up slowly, bumping into Namjoon. “You ready?” Seokjin asks, finding it difficult to breath. There’s a slit in his sleeves, a cut a few inches long, feeling the blood trickling down his arm. “’Til death, jeonha.” Namjoon nods, wiping away the blood on his lips with his sleeve.

A group surrounds them – ten to two. “Now!” Seokjin commands, screaming  as he charges against the men. He gets kicked at the back, the king falling on his knees. Seokjin’s head bows at the pain, but he plunges his sword to the soil, using it to support his weight as he stands up from his knees. He swings at them, the armed men laughing when he blindly thrusts the sword in the air. He’s been cut again, this time across his pectoral, the stinging pain felt until the tips of his fingers. His vision is getting hazy by the minute. He can’t give up.

Seokjin falls one more time to the ground, his arms bearing all his weight. He sees Namjoon’s body on the side – lifeless. He musters all his strength and attempts to push himself back up one more time. Before he manages to get on his knees, a blade of a sword points at his neck, one more move and the steel will pierce through his skin.

He follows the blade of the sword ‘til he looks up to a masked man with… blonde hair? His eyes narrow at the sight. It was his first time to encounter a man with hair of such color. The man pulls the mask over his head, a healing scar cutting through his right eyebrow and down to his cheek. 

“Yoongi?”

“Told you, you can never keep us out.”

That’s the last thing Seokjin hears, as he feels the blade slicing through his abdominals. He falls to the ground, clutching onto his stomach as he spits out the blood accumulating in his mouth. His chest is heaving, everything is hazy. He’s losing consciousness.

The image of you smiling is the last thing he sees before blacking out.  

© joontier 2020. All rights reserved.

[taglist] : @aretha170​

[joonsdiary]

worth fighting for (06)

pairing: jungkook x reader genre/warnings: a pinch of fluff, a dash of angst / royalty au, historical au / tw: indignant!koo, apologetic!reader, jimin being the supportive bun that he is, if you came for a fun time this chapter probably isn’t? word count: 4,815

summary: fresh out of the perils of war, jungkook didn’t think that his task as the newly appointed general would be to look after you.

                                                                       SIX.

“Congratulations, Y/N. The distance you so crave is finally there.”

You mumble to yourself as you watch Jungkook’s back disappear into the horizon. Had it not been for your sharp tongue, perhaps you would’ve prevented the damage you’ve inflicted upon him. You hadn’t seen his expression as he didn’t bother to face you, but his slackened shoulders are enough to let you know how he feels. Your heart wrenches painfully as you swallow thickly.

Yes, his mistrust towards your capabilities is unwarranted, inflicting your pride. You aren’t some weak helpless princess who needs to wait around and be rescued – you are more than capable of saving your own ass. But that doesn’t give you the authority to overstep your boundary and bring up his dead brother, of all people.

You blink up at the sky, unable to keep the tears pooling from staining your flush cheeks. There’s no use in feeling sorry for yourself now, though. You have to apologize, and somehow make it up to him. An action that’s easier said than done if Jungkook does not brush you off with every attempt.

But he does.

Throughout the rest of the day, you chase him around like a puppy does their master. There’s not much left to do since Jimin gathered firewood when you were busy stomping on Jungkook’s feelings. The tents have also been set up, courtesy of both Miyoung and Jimin. That doesn’t stop Jungkook from coming up with creative ways to dismiss your presence, though.

“I’m going to relieve myself. Will you follow me there, too?” Jungkook deadpans and you wilt away, cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

“No,” you toy with the string of your dress. You look up at him and open your mouth to say the words that are eating you up. You don’t have the chance to, though, because he turns to leave in search of a dense forest area. Your shoulders slump in defeat as you massage your temples.

“Did something happen between you and the general?” Miyoung approaches you with caution. You don’t turn to address her presence, but you nod at her inquisition.

“I was being a dimwit.”

“You can be a bit dense at times,” Miyoung mumbles thoughtfully, and you give her a slanted gaze. She returns the favour with a playful smile. “What is it; you finally confessed, and he rejected you? It was so bad that he wants to avoid you, but you can’t help how your poor heart yearns for him.”

Her statement is like cold water being splashed to your face. “What do you mean finally?”

“I’m not going through the whole spiel about you acting jittery around him again,” she says wryly. “But you’ve been really, really obvious.”

Your face blanches, and Miyoung gives you a puzzling gaze.

He hasn’t noticed though, right?

You push the thought away since what she said hasn’t crossed your mind. You’re bound to someone by agreement, and you have no plans of tearing that for something as meagre as your feelings.

“Judging from your reaction, I’m guessing that’s not what happened?” her brows creased with worry, and you shake your head.

“Would you believe me if I say that I’ve done something more idiotic than that?” you give her a sheepish grin and dive into telling her what happened. Your gaze travels to Jimin, ensuring he doesn’t hear any of what you’re saying. It’s enough that one other person knows of your stupidity. She listens with intent and waits for you to finish.

“…and then he just walked away. I’ve been trying to apologize to him since, and you can guess how that went,” you awkwardly point to the direction Jungkook has gone. She doesn’t say anything for a while, and dread fills your chest. Her silence speaks volumes on her position in this matter; she thinks you’re in the wrong as well.

“I can see where you’re coming from,” she begins slowly, uncharacteristically picking her words as if not to say anything that will disfavour you. “But you didn’t have to bring up the topic of his late brother like that.”

“I know,” you exhale, feeling exasperated. “I know that. I slipped in the most immodest way possible. But he doesn’t want to give me the room to explain.”

“Perhaps you should give him some space. It looks like he needs it if he’s actively avoiding you.”

I know that, too.

You sigh defeatedly. “Maybe you’re right. It seems selfish of me to keep pushing myself where I’m not wanted.”

“He’ll come around,” she offers a reassuring smile, which lifts your mood in the slightest.

But two days pass, yet there’s still no sign of Jungkook’s temper thawing. He rescinded his offer to teach and you agree amicably, opting to listen to Miyoung about taking the diplomatic approach in order to give him the space he needs. It’s not like he had been willing to teach you more either way, so you graciously collect your losses. If avoidance is what he desires, it’s what he’ll get.

Jimin has noticed the surly atmosphere, but he doesn’t dare ask anything. You feel apologetic for placing him in the dark by not saying anything, but you don’t think your ego could handle another moral beating after confiding with Miyoung.

You’ve chosen to stay in the carriage in the instances where you’re not needed, which happens to be most of the time since they still refuse to task you with too much work. You occasionally volunteer with Miyoung but otherwise avoid Jungkook like the plague, and you refuse to eat any meals with them as you hide away in your tent. You delude yourself into thinking that it’s the easiest task you could possibly be assigned but hearing his laughter on the other side of the closed doors prove harder than anything you’ve ever done.

You prepare your heart, nonetheless, telling yourself it’s the punishment you deserve after breaking his.

On the third day post-Jungkook, a soft knock comes at the door of your carriage. You put down your embroidery — a suggestion from Miyoung you’ve gingerly agreed to complete despite how tedious you think it is. Hope blooms in your chest and you eagerly open the door. Perhaps Miyoung talked to Jungkook about your intentions to apologize —

“Your Grace.”

Jimin’s crescent eyes greet you, and you try to hide your disappointment with a stiff smile. He steps aside as you disembark, stretching your limbs that have been bent to one position for hours. The afternoon sun is hidden beneath grey clouds, and you don’t have to squint too much as your gaze sweeps the surroundings.

“General Jeon wants to unrein the horses. It seems like we might camp out for a while. He predicts a storm might be coming and would rather be stationary when that happens.”

You nod as your eyes search for the said general. Your shoulder deflates when you don’t find him.

“I can still stay inside though, right?” you offer a meek smile, hoping he’d say yes.

“Actually…” he trails off as he rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “I’ve noticed you’ve been keeping to yourself a lot and…well…”

He meets your gaze, a grin forming on his lips. “I was wondering if you wanted to go for a horse ride. Help you stave off some of that dark aura surrounding you lately.”

You allow yourself to laugh at his statement, already feeling more at ease than you’ve been the past few days.

“If you insist,” your words are filled with excitement. He offers his elbow and your palm rests on the crook of his hand.

“None of them are Luna, but I promise you they’re just as wild-spirited.” You allow him to guide you to where two horses await, saddled and unbound from the carriage. Approaching the caramel-coloured steed, you hold your palms out and run it along its neck.

“I’ve been so preoccupied these past few weeks to even ask if this was possible,” the horse neighs as you run your fingertips through its thick mane.

It doesn’t take long for you to settle down and once you do, Jimin mounts his horse.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you turn to him with a genuine smile. “And having a horse of your own to ride this time around.”

“I wasn’t going to let the same thing happen where you leave me behind. As powerful as my thighs are, I still don’t stand a chance in catching up to a horse,” his tone is bright as he claps his hand on his thighs for full effect. You laugh at the memory as your grip tightens around the rope.

“Don’t blame me for feeling excited. I’m sorry it got you in trouble though,” you lament, feeling apologetic since you heard he was severely punished by the stable master. You suspect the order came from your father, though, hence his reluctance for you to bring Jimin along. But in a scenario where you had to place your trust in the hands of a few, there’s not an inkling of doubt in your mind that he would be one of them.

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle.” The certainty in Jimin’s tone is enough for you not to press.

The two of you begin at a slow pace, and you welcome the cool breeze of tousling your hair in every direction possible. You bask in your false sense of freedom, your spirits already lifting the slightest.

“I’m sorry, too, for my recent actions,” you begin as vaguely as you possibly can. You’re not sure how much Jimin knows about your situation, but you have been ignoring him too as of late. It doesn’t feel fair, especially because he’s the one making an effort to bridge the gap you’ve built.

“That’s quite alright. Given your circumstance, I understand if you feel closed off at times.”

“Circumstance?” Your brows knit in confusion and you face Jimin. He returns your confusion with a small smile.

“Trekking an unknown path towards the Northern border, where no Southerner has been able to do in three generations since the conflict started. Not only that, but you’ll have to marry their monarch.”

“Oh, that,” your eyes flit back to the small patch of road ahead of you. You’re unsure what Jimin has in mind as a destination, but he promises it’s not a long ride. “The least I could do.”

Jimin dips his chin.

“I know you’re attempting to diminish the responsibility you’ve chosen to bear, but you have a lot to lose, too.”

You shake your head at him, unable to acquiesce with his considerate words.

“Compared to what you went through during the war…” you trail off, unsure of how to continue. The last time you talked to someone about death and loss, they walked away from you. Perhaps you’re not as eloquent as you’d like to think in spite of your status, so you don’t say anything further.

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but this isn’t a competition of who suffers the most like you make it sound to be.” His smile is mellow, his voice gentle but not condescending. The kindness in his eyes almost deceives you into falling infatuated with him. “You don’t have to undermine your sacrifice just because you think you’re not losing a limb or getting stabbed with an arrow.”

The sentiment is enough to fill the corner of your eyes with fresh tears. You laugh softly, sounding slightly unhinged. “You make me sound so benevolent.”

“Aren’t you, though?” His lilt is playful, but you shake your head in disagreement.

“Far from it, actually.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, you know. You both.”

You don’t have to ask twice to figure out who he’s talking about. Curiosity is nagging you but you’re unable to find the right words, so you let silence permeate.

“Did he say anything…?” you whisper, and you’re sure Jimin didn’t hear it.

“About you?”

His reply catches you off guard, and you make an effort not to seem overly eager. “No, just… broadly speaking.”

“If you must know,” Jimin pauses and eyes you suggestively. You pull the ropes to halt the movement of the horse. He mimics your actions, and you fall in step with each other, pulling the reins so the animals would follow. His features soften as he looks ahead. “He hasn’t spoken much of anything. Of you.”

“Oh.” You try not to sound distraught, but your voice wavers. “I guess he must still hate me.”

“Do you think he’d still be here if he hates you?”

You blink up at him, and with the most impassive tone you can muster, you answer, “Yes.”

“You’re right,” he says after a short pause. “He’s hard-headed in that way where he’ll see this through to the end, regardless of how he feels.” Jimin chuckles as he shakes his head. You grin up at him. “You’re both stubborn— ”

“— as a mule, I am aware,” you finish for him, and his eyes twinkle in amusement.

“Am I that predictable?” He places his hand on his chest in mock offence. You nod at his inquiry, realizing that you’ve been missing this type of banter.

“Thank you, Jimin.”

His eyes form into crescents, smiling from ear to ear at your appreciation. He stretches his arms out wide. “Now that you owe me…”

“Name your price, Park.”

He throws his head back and barks out a laugh.

“It’s nothing complicated,” he begins once he’s calmed down. “But Miyoung refuses to tell me what went on between you and General Jeon. I know she knows.”

“And you couldn’t have asked Jungkook?”

“The man will snap me in half if I so much as attempt it.”

“You’re being dramatic,” you roll your eyes and bite back a smile. “Also, quite bold of you to assume that I’ll tell you. Is that why you’ve decided to bring me along on this trip with you — butter me up so you can get the answers from me?”

“It was worth the try,” Jimin grins, shrugging. “But really, I’ve brought you here because I think you need to unwind. You’ve been spending a lot of time stacking brick walls around you. Miyoung was starting to worry.”

Your heart swells and your face grows warm, thankful you have the company of the right people. You slowly realize you did yourself a disservice when you decided to close the door on the two people who care about your well-being.

“Now help me help you end this lover’s quarrel so we can move on along,” Jimin’s tone is still light. But you shake your head defiantly, ignoring the pervasive radiance of your cheeks. He pauses his walk, and you do the same.

“It’s not like that at all.”

You close your eyes, steeling your nerves as you let out a shaky breath. Jimin nods in understanding and patiently waits for you as you gather your thoughts.

*  *  *

Jungkook treks through the sparse wooden area. The task has been like clockwork every time you stay somewhere new. He doesn’t want a repeat of what happened weeks ago, so he’s thorough in his search. He wants to make sure no stone is left unturned, metaphorically speaking.

The only difference this time is he didn’t bring his horse along. When he told Jimin to free the horses for the night, the older suggested that he leave his horse to be looked after, as well. He agreed, but now he doesn’t think it was a good idea. Especially since his thighs are throbbing from all the walking he’s done. The weariness is enough for him to call it a day and head back to camp.

Until he hears an inconspicuous laugh. By a man.

His body goes rigid, his brain wires into autopilot as his legs deftly take him to the source. The closer he walks, the clearer it’s becoming that he’s heading towards the carved-out path he’s already gone through hours prior.

“…snap me in half…”

His ears perk up in recognition, eyes thinning into slits as he attempts to form the image of Jimin’s face from a distance. He steps closer but realizes he’s not alone, so he turns his back against a sturdy tree.

Your voice cuts through the air and arrests him on the spot. He still couldn’t make out much of what is being said, and he desperately wants to know.

“No, you don’t,” Jungkook grumbles to himself.

But his feet move closer and he stands behind another tree.

“…brick walls around you. Miyoung was starting to worry.”

Jungkook is beginning to feel like a half-wit. Nothing is stopping him from going up to them as a normal person would. None of this sneaking around horseshit. But he’s unsure what your reaction will be if he does show up all of a sudden. He has been the biggest idiot in the whole country the past few days, so he will not be surprised if you walk away and leave abruptly if he steps out.

“Should I really disturb them?” He mumbles to himself.

He’s surprised that you’re even doing something besides isolating yourself either in your carriage or your tent.

No thanks to you, his subconscious nags.

It isn’t his intention to push you out all the way. He wasn’t feeling bothered by your subsequent attempts to talk to him after he walked out on you as he makes it out to be. But his ultimatum had been the sword fighting lesson; your lack of protest when he revoked it made him think you gave up trying. He didn’t let his surprise be known – he’d been the one who wanted to cancel, anyway. Then so be it.

He’s not surprised when you took it even further and refused to converse or have a meal with anyone. The action feels like an exaggeration to him. He’s the one who lost a brother, after all, not you.

He is caught in a daze for a moment, lulled by the soft timbre of your voice. No discernible word files in his mind — it’s not information he doesn’t already know. He isn’t the least bit surprised that you chose your confidante to be Jimin; as Jungkook has learned himself, Jimin gives quite the advice. The man is practically like a walking library — at times he could be spewing utter nonsense, but more often than not he says the most knowledgeable things only an elder would know.

Yet it seems odd to Jungkook. Yes, you talk to Jimin and are friendly with him. But to be able to confide in a stable boy, of all people, when you are royalty? Technically you can command anybody to talk to you and keep you company, but that’s not the case. It seems to him that it had been Jimin who’s coaxed you into opening up; like how friends would.

Jungkook’s stomach drops. There had been a moment where he genuinely thought of you as a friend, but he needlessly threw it aside by being obtuse.

The next words you utter disarms him.

“...I didn’t mean for him to interpret as if I wish it had been him who died instead.”

A twinge of guilt carves out of Jungkook’s chest as he tries to remember exactly what you said that day. The more fragments of his memory slip through his fingers like coarse sand, the more foolish he feels. He scarcely recalls what you’ve told him verbatim that had him so irate at that moment. He can only remember his reaction to it.

The anger bubbling from the pit of his stomach. The jealousy and hurt coursing through his veins. The regret looming over him as he walks away.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

Stalking around private thoughts that you choose to share with anyone but him, feels all sorts of wrong. He shouldn’t pry, especially after ignoring your attempts at apologizing and pushing you away roughly like a rag doll.

He wills himself to walk away from the conversation. It’s the least he can do.

*  *  *

Speaking to Jimin after refusing to talk to anyone for a few days feels cathartic. You’re thankful that he provides a peaceful aura and being able to let everything out is invigorating.

“How do you know Jungkook’s brother, anyway?” Jimin asks as you descend back to the path you came from.

“Oh,” you blink for a few moments before chuckling. “I guess I haven’t told you. I grew up with them, so to speak. Hoseok taught me everything I know about bows and arrows. We were practically —”

“— attached at the hip,” Jimin cuts you off suddenly. You look at him quizzically, but nod in agreement.

“Are you sure you’re not my soulmate? We practically finish each other’s sentences all the time,” you tease. But his face is unreadable as if he’d gone in a completely different dimension without you. He grows quiet and you let him soak in the information.

“You didn’t grow close with General Jeon, though.” He says slowly, sounding more like a statement than a question. You nod your head, nonetheless.

“He was quieter and more distant back then if you can imagine,” you begin softly. “Although he was quite a pain to deal with at times; who isn’t at seven?”

Jimin laughs, nodding in agreement.

Your memories of Jungkook are sparse, but you’ll never forget the day he challenged you to a game of archery at the height of your lessons with Hoseok. You were eleven and Jungkook would only be around every so often, always getting called by his father for his own training. You shake your head at the thought, still unable to wrap your mind around how a mere thirteen-year-old boy could be shoved into the harsh environment of endless training.

“But he had always been competitive, especially against me. Although he still hasn’t beaten me at archery. Maybe that’s why he dislikes me so much,” your nose wrinkles at the thought.

Jimin scoffs and shakes his head. “On the contrary…”

“Hm?” you look up at him, and Jimin’s eyes widen in panic. He looks away momentarily before clearing his throat.

“What I meant was — you lied, completely! About having beginner’s luck.” Jimin’s cheeks are ruddy when he turns back to you, and you wonder what has him so flustered. “The highwaymen that stop us next time better be on the lookout. We have a master archer in our midst.”

You eyed him suspiciously, but a grin forms on your face all the same. “Flattering could only get you so far, Jimin.”

“I only aim to tell the truth, Your Grace,” his head shakes and you roll your eyes. Jimin hesitates before continuing. “I’m sorry for your loss, albeit belatedly. I’m sure you were devastated to hear about what had happened to him.”

Your mood plunges, but you muster a small smile. “Hoseok was like an older brother I always wanted to have.”  

Jimin’s forehead creases in confusion, but he nods in understanding. You swallow the lump that wedged itself in your throat.

“His presence was always so bright; his ability to bring a smile to everyone is such a gift. That’s why losing him feels like you’ve been robbed of warmth,” your eyes trail forward, but they’re unseeing. Your thoughts flit back to Jungkook; if you are here feeling like your heart has been ripped out of your chest, you can’t begin to imagine what he’s going through.

“You remind me a lot of him,” you beam at Jimin, anxious to shift your mood.

“Sounds like I have a lot to live up to,” Jimin chuckles.

“You have the whole radiant part down. You’re practically bursting with sunlight at the seams.” You squint and pretend to cover your eyes for full effect.  

“Flattering could only get you so far, Your Highness,” his eyes flicker with playfulness, lips unable to hold back a grin.

“I only aim to tell the truth, Jimin.”

His laugh bubbles from his chest as satisfaction fills you to the brim.

*  *  *

“I don’t want to speak out of turn…” Miyoung begins cautiously, but her lips are set in a straight line. “But will you stop pacing, for the love of god?”

Jungkook glowers at her, fists balled as steam billows out of his ear. The frigid wind does nothing to cool down his boiling body, but the grey clouds mirror his current mood. Despite the overcast masking the skies, he knows that the sun is about to set sooner rather than later.

Yet there are no signs of you or Jimin returning from your impromptu trip. He’s been mulling over the decision to leave you for hours, and every second that ticks by weighs heavier on his shoulders.

I knew I shouldn’t have left. He sighs in an attempt to alleviate the tension in his muscles. “They were supposed to be back hours ago.”

“I had no idea. It’s not like you’ve said it about five times in the last ten minutes.” Miyoung says sardonically, but Jungkook knows she’s just as anxious as he is. It’s evident in the way she looks towards the direction where he also came from every minute. “I’m sure they’ll be back at any moment now. I’ll start preparing a meal.”

She turns to leave just as the winds pick up their speed, ruffling Jungkook’s tunic. He nods wordlessly, but at her proclamation of finding something to do, Jungkook resumes his pacing. He’s thought about going to the same spot he saw you and Jimin, but that seems like a terrible idea the more he thinks about it.

One, you’re probably long gone by now and he wouldn’t know where you went next. Two, there’s an off chance that you’ll miss each other, so leaving would be futile and a waste of energy; you’ll be back, he’ll be gone. What a travesty.

“Why did I decide then to have some morals and leave them be?” he groans and dips his head into his palms, slapping himself in the process.

For a man with a calibre such as him, he’s currently lacking in all his areas of expertise. Nothing makes him feel more inept than his inability to care for you, which speaking candidly, is his sole task. Surely, he’s had more daunting responsibilities; one that requires him to think on his feet but at the same time not make haste decisions. So far, he’s done neither and no one is to blame but himself.

He feels the soft patter of the rain on his forearm, followed by the quivering rumble of thunder. Jungkook comes to a halt, his heart being propelled faster than a horse in a race. The light drizzle turns to a torrential downpour within minutes, and he curses the heavens; their timing couldn’t be more perfect.

“General!” Miyoung beckons, which compels Jungkook to run and seek shelter. Encased in the warmth of the tent, he shakes off the remnants of water in his hair as he heaves a deep sigh.

“There’s no reason why I shouldn’t go out there now.”

Miyoung rolls her eyes, and Jungkook gains an inkling as to why you insist on keeping her around out of all your chambermaids. If he didn’t know any better, he might think you two are cut from the same cloth.

“Terrible idea. Do you not hear that?”

As if on cue, the second round of thunder rippled through the silence. The wind howls louder, causing the tarpaulin to tremble with fear. A shiver runs down his spine.

“We don’t really have a choice—”

Jungkook is cut off by the pounding of hoofbeats against the dirt, which is all the consent he needs to bolt out of the safety of the tent. He squints against the rain as one horse approaches. His heart sinks.

“I was closer here than I was to her, so I assumed it would be better—” Jimin slides off the saddle and Jungkook quickly takes the ropes from him, not bothering to take his own ride.

“Where?” his tone is clipped, head swimming with endless thoughts as he awaits Jimin’s reply.

“She said something about dipping her toes in the water, I—” Jungkook’s feet slipped in his first attempt to embark and he cursed under his breath. Calm down, Jeon. His trousers squelch uncomfortably beneath him as he takes a seat, but that might be the least of his worries.

“Stay put in case she comes back.”

He doesn’t need to ask why Jimin had left you in the first place; you had probably forced him to go back on his own. Tugging at the reins slightly, he carefully steers the horse in the right direction. With one command he is off; his lungs burning in his chest as thousands of water droplets pellet his face, blurring his vision.

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