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hongism · 4 years

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belated - c.san (ft. jwy) 18+

↦ pairing: san x reader (ft slight san x reader x wooyoung) ↦ genre: pwp, smut, 18+, non idol au, friends with benefits au ↦ wc: 2.8k ↦ summary: san feels guilty for missing out on wooyoung’s birthday dinner, so he enlists your help in creating the perfect present for wooyoung as a belated gift | part 2 out now ↦ warnings: explicit smut, oral sex: f + m, fingering, filmed sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism mention, subspace mention, dirty talk, cum eating/swallowing, unprotected sex

“And you’re sure this is a good idea?” It’s a bit late for you to be backing out at this point; you and San have both completely stripped to be as naked as the day you were born, and San is fiddling with the tripod near the edge of the bed. He’ll start recording soon, though that isn’t the thing you’re hesitant about. You are more hesitant about San’s promise that Wooyoung will even like this. While you have entertained the thought of fucking Wooyoung on occasion – it’s not like he didn’t get the fucking best genes in the universe alongside San – you never thought that the feeling would be mutual or that he would ever see you in such a light. The two of you have a strictly neutral friendship through San: both having met the man at school and thus become friends through him being your mutual friend. You don’t think it to be the most extreme or strange thing to happen, but still, that doesn’t lessen your surprise the moment San asked if you would be okay with the offer.

Your relationship with San is far different from Wooyoung’s mainly due to the fact that you and San fuck frequently with no strings attached, and as far as you’re aware Wooyoung and San don’t do that in their spare time. Thus you had no issue agreeing with San’s suggestion, which has led you to this beautiful standstill with San’s toned and lean body on full display before you. You must be too enamored by San’s body before you to pay any attention to what he’s saying because moments later, his fingers come before your eyes and snap several times to pull your focus back.

“Hm?”

“I said I’m certain this is a good idea. Wooyoung has entertained the thought of you – well us, for that matter – many times, and he’s admitted it to my face. I’m positive that he’ll love the present.” San brings a finger under your chin and lifts your head a bit so that you can look him in the eye. “Besides you look so fucking gorgeous with my cock in you that I’d have a hard time believing he wouldn’t like it.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you grumble as you try to fight off the sudden surge of embarrassment rushing up your neck and face. San clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“That’s what I plan to do to you, sweetheart. Not the other way around.”

“Well hurry it along then.”

San only huffs out a laugh in response this time, but he steps away from where you’re perched on the foot of the bed to go fiddle with the camcorder a bit more. Seconds later, a small red light starts flashing at the edge of your vision, and you do your best not to stare directly at it as San walks back to you. He pushes your thighs open with his knees, slotting himself between your legs with ease, and leans over you to press a wet, open-mouthed kiss to your lips. You greet him like it’s second nature, and it practically is with the amount of times the two of you have done this. The only difference now is that there’s a camera present with you two, but as San’s tongue pushes into your wet cavern, you find yourself quickly forgetting that it’s there.

“Wanna give him a good show,” San murmurs, slipping away from you and leaving a thin strand of saliva between your lips.

Before you know it, he has dropped to his knees before you. His hands roam the expanse of your thighs, caressing the soft skin under his fingers, and he spreads you wider open with little resistance on your part. Two fingers sneak further upward and drag over the front of your folds. A bit of wetness has already pooled there, enough to make your core glisten as San pushes your lips open and exposes it to the camera. He’s managed to find the perfect angle to capture the action for the time being, but you know that will quickly change as the two of you lose yourselves in the arousal and sex-driven high. You drape a leg over one of San’s shoulders and lean back on one hand. The other finds purchase in San’s dark hair, combing through the soft locks as he presses closer to your heat. He greets your folds with a single, tentative lick at first, and the instant arch of your back under his tough encourages him to repeat the motion.

“Look at the camera,” San commands in a soft tone. The words aren’t loud enough to reverberate against your cunt, but it is enough to cause your arousal to heighten, and you don’t waste any time in obeying the command. “Don’t even think about keeping quiet. I want Wooyoung to hear every last sound that comes from your lips.”

You offer a quick and shaky nod, glancing down at San only once before bringing your gaze back up to the camera. San’s tongue finds your folds again – this time with more force than before – and you keen under his touch, a small moan ripping from your mouth before you can stop it. Your first instinct is to reach up and clap a hand over your mouth, but San hisses against your clit. It’s a warning, and you recognize it as one in an instant, pulling your hand back down to his hair with a bit of hesitation. His deft muscle teases your hole a few times before circling back up to flick over the bead of your clit. Even the slightest touch has you gasping under him, and his hands pressing down hard on your thighs are the only things keeping you firmly planted to the bed, otherwise you would be bucking your hips up into his tongue. It doesn’t keep you from begging for more. It should be shameful how desperate you are for more of his touch already, but the feel of his smooth tongue running over your folds is too good to be thinking about shame right now.

The next sound to fall from your lips is merely a whimper, and it comes out when San sets two fingers against your tight hole. He doesn’t even have to push them in for you to moan. It’s lewd and resonates through the quiet room, accompanied by the dry chuckle that falls from San’s lips, and this time, the sound sends vibrations across your clit. You writhe under his touch, and your elbow buckles under you. You slip backwards, tugging a bit too hard at San’s hair, and he groans from the sharp pull at his locks.

“Fuck, baby girl, if you keep that up, I won’t be able to finish the foreplay like I want to,” San hums. You offer another tug to his hair – an action more meant to tease him than anything else – and San responds by plunging a single finger into your hole. A gasp leaves you at the sudden stretch, which quickly breaks into a drawn-out moan as San sucks gently at your clit. You can’t keep yourself up any longer thanks to the sensation, and moments later, your back hits the mattress with a soft thud. “If you aren’t gonna look at the camera, then you had better tell Wooyoung how much you wish it was his tongue on you and not mine.”

“San,” you whimper, a bit breathless already. San slips a second finger into your tight heat rather than responding with words, and you squirm under the touch, hand tightening around the hair close to his scalp.

“Wrong name, sweetheart,” he teases back after a few seconds of terse silence. You nearly roll your eyes but a third finger pushes in beside the other two in you, and you see stars in the edges of your vision. “Whose fingers do you want in you, hm?”

“Woo – oh shit, Wooyoung’s!” You cry out, thighs squeezing together as San’s fingers brush over your sweet spot.

“And what do you want him to do to you?” San is straight-up taunting you now, and if you weren’t so full of pent-up arousal, you would probably kick him for being such a brat at the moment.

“W-Want his cock, I want it so bad.”

“That’s not good enough, baby.” San curls his fingers further, robbing you of the tantalizing sensation in mere seconds, and you whine in protest. You know that it won’t get you anywhere and he fully expects you to follow his orders like you always do, and once glance down at his face between your thighs pushes you further into that sweet headspace you love to be in while he’s fucking you. It doesn’t send you all the way there yet though, but it does cause you to beg.

“I want Wooyoung to f-fuck me hard. I want him to fuck me until I forget my name, I need his cock in me so badly. Just need to be f-filled up and – and fucked into the mattress, please.”

“There we go,” San coos while slipping his fingers out of the tight warmth of your cunt. “Such a good little girl for Wooyoung, aren’t you? Such a shame he can’t be here to give you that now.” San pushes himself up, one hand lingering at your hip and the other that was just between your legs sneaking up to your lips. You take the wet fingers between your lips without waiting to be told, and the taste of your juices on his digits has your body burning with shame. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll fill you up for him. On one condition—” San stretches his fingers in your mouth, spreading your lips wider as your tongue laps over him “—you have to call out his name instead of mine. And if you mess up, then I’ll stop fucking you.” He retracts his hand from your mouth, and you immediately try protesting to his demands once you can speak freely.

“S-San, no, pl-please—”

“No.”

It’s only one word but it hits harder than anything he’s said before tonight, and you sink your teeth into your lip.

“Will you do as told?”

“Yes… y-yes, I will,” you agree quickly, trying to shroud your face from the camera in your shame. San catches hold of your chin and pulls you forward once more.

“There’s a good girl. I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” He speaks the words with just enough softness and affection to have you preening under him. His cock brushes through your folds, teasing your hole a few times before he properly aligns himself and sinks into you with a shaky sigh.

“O-Oh, fuck, San,” you moan out before you can stop yourself. San’s member disappears from your heat quicker than you can process it, and you blink dumbly at the man above you in disbelief.

“Get it right, baby girl. You know whose name to say.”

“Wooyoung,” you mumble, walls clenching around nothing as you remember who and what this is for. San pushes back into you halfway this time, dick rubbing pleasurably against your slick walls, and you have to bite your tongue to keep from calling out his name again. You only release your tongue once he has bottomed out in you. He pauses there to let you adjust to the stretch of his member, chest heaving in an unbalanced rhythm as he tries to catch his breath. “Fuck me, pl-please, fuck me already.”

Your hands claw desperately at San’s shoulders in attempts to bring him closer to you, but San stays upright, fingers digging sharp crescents into your hips as he pulls out about halfway. His next thrust is so sharp that you feel your whole body slide backward on the bed, a startled moan breaking through your lips, and your hands fall uselessly by your sides. It’s with frantic grasps that you grab for the comforter, and all coherent thought leaves your mind as San begins to fuck into you at an increased rhythm.

“Sa–Wooyoung. W-Woo, pl-please,” you beg to the thin air above you, barely able to get the right name out in the haze of your pleasure. San chuckles above you. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the air along with the grossly lewd noises coming from your cunt as San thrusts into you. You can hardly think about that though, too focused on chasing your pleasure. Then all of a sudden, San slips a hand from your hip to your cunt, and he drags the pad of his thumb over your clit in small circles. “Fuck, gonna cum, please, I can’t – I can’t—”

You can’t even finish the sentence thanks to the mind-blowing sensation. San continues his staggered motions, tugging you closer to his body and holding you as close as possible as he approaches his high as well. He must not be expecting you to cum so quickly though because when you do cry out and squeeze hard around his member, walls pulsing as the orgasm ripples through your body, he releases a surprised grunt. His hand returns to your hip so that he can properly fuck you through your orgasm, but he doesn’t opt to cum yet. Instead, he slips out of your fluttering hole and pulls you forward until you’re forced to slip off the edge of the bed. The carpet is rough under your knees but you aren’t in a mindset to complain about it, still a bit dazed from the pleasure.

“Where do you want it, sweetheart?” San grunts the words out, hand jerking over his slick cock, and you brace yourself on his thighs. You don’t reply verbally, but the way you stick your tongue out and blink up at him through batted eyelashes is enough of an answer. Within seconds, hot ropes of cum spurt from the tip of his cock, lacing your face and tongue with his seed. You flinch under the suddenness of the action. With eyes squeezed tightly shut, you wait for San to finish milking his cum out onto your face.

What you aren’t expecting, however, is the sudden touch of his lips against yours, cum intermingling between your mouths and dancing over your tongues as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. You greet him with a pleased moan and dig your fingernails deeper into his thighs just to draw one last moan out of him before you’re satisfied. When San pulls back, there’s still a hefty layer of cum on your face, but he doesn’t let you clean up the mess yet, telling you to hold on a second. All you can hear is him shifting things a few feet away, then the heat of his presence returns to you.

“Show off for Woo, baby girl. Show him how pretty you look covered in cum like this.” Even though you can’t see San, you’re certain that he is dangling the camera in front of your face right now, and that thought alone causes you to stick your tongue out again and display the full extent of San’s cum on you. Fingers brush your cheek, collecting a few beads of cum before bringing them to your mouth and fucking the digits into your wet cavern. Once he’s satisfied with the amount of cum he’s pushed between your lips, he pulls back to examine his work. “Open your eyes.”

You do as told in a second, eyes fluttering as you make immediate eye contact with the camcorder.

“Now wish Woo a happy birthday, sweetheart,” San coos from behind the camera. You can barely make out the twisted smile playing at his lips.

“Happy birthday, Wooyoung,” you say, voice a bit raspy from the burn of the cum in your mouth and throat.

“And tell him that you hope he can join us next time.”

“I… I hope you can join us next time,” you repeat. A smile overtakes your lips at the pride in San’s expression. He doesn’t say anything else, fiddling a bit with the camera, and the red light stops flickering after a few seconds. “Is that all?”

“That’s it, baby girl,” San hums in response. “You did so well for him.” His thumb finds your chin once more, caressing the skin under a calloused finger. “I’ll get a rag, and we can get you cleaned up. Then we can send him the video and wait anxiously for his response. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” you murmur back, eyes falling shut as San presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “I can’t wait to see his reaction.”

“Neither can I,” San chuckles before stepping away from you to head for the bathroom. “Neither can I.”

...

↦ a/n: part 2 anyone? jkjkjk unless? okay but also it’s been awhile since i’ve written something like this so i hope you guys enjoy pls let me know what you think also this was written and prepared before my break so please continue to be patient with me as i work on coming back and spending time away to recover and heal!!

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

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My Side

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: language, lots of smut, prostate massage, fluff, some mentions of angst (but it’s very minimal)

Genre: Marriage AU

Word Count: 4K

Summary: Y/N has had her entire future planned out ever since she could remember: step one- graduate college (done), step two- find a good-paying job (done), step three- marry someone she adores (done), and step four- have kids (???). She understands that life is full of obstacles, but is it too much to ask for your husband to finally knock you up?

A/N: Big apology to this anon user who requested this and had to wait like 8 billion years for me to finish it.

The fertility clinic was unusually cold, and I found myself shivering in direct contradiction with the sweltering summer heat collecting outside of the office building. Maybe that was the point: the doctors wanted to keep you totally alert while you waited for what seemed like hours for a standard routine visit. Because I could’ve already fallen asleep at this point - taking advantage of my day off from work to do something other than fret over the working condition of my reproductive system.

Of course, there was also the issue of my grumpy husband who had been thoroughly displeased when he found out exactly what a pap smear test implied. “He was totally checking you out when we came in,” Chan said. “Then, he insisted on sticking that thing up your vagina?”

“Oh, give it a rest, Chan,” I said. “I knew they would do that before I even came here.”

“I think he just wanted to look at your pussy,” Chan insisted. “And he did it right in front of me like I didn’t even exist!”

“You weren’t forced to stay in the room,” I pointed out, which I would’ve preferred but Chan insisted on standing over me like some kind of jealous observer who actually wanted to watch such an intimate procedure.

“Yeah, he would’ve preferred that,” Chan said, leaning further back in his chair. “How the hell is this even supposed to help us? We’ve only been trying for a few months.”

“Well, I want to make sure everything is working properly,” I said, and (just to spite him) I glanced down at his crotch. “What if you’re having performance issues, honey?”

“My dick works just fine,” Chan insisted. “But you know what? I think it’s partially your fault that we can’t pregnant. You’re putting too much pressure on him and it’s hard for me to focus.”

“Him?” I questioned with a grin. "Do you really want to personify your penis?”

“That’s not the point!” Chan exclaimed. “Did you even hear me, Y/N?”

“But what is the point, Chan? What exactly are you having trouble focusing on?” I asked. “We’re talking about fucking, not a tax audit. Keep the office out of our bedroom.”

“You don’t think I know the difference?”

“Apparently not since it requires more effort than necessary for you to orgasm,” I screeched, barely getting the words out before the doctor’s return.

Immediately, Chan and I were both forced smiles, pretending like we weren’t just having a pointless argument. “Well,” the doctor said. “Everything is fine on your end, Mrs. Bang. I guess that means we can perform some tests on your husband.”

“Oh, that would be great,” I said, even as Chan shifted restlessly from next to me. “Is there anything you need?”

“We’d like to ask you for a sperm sample,” the doctor replied while handing Chan a clear, transparent plastic cup that he accepted with obvious hesitation. “I’ll give you some time.”

“Thank you,” I said, looking over at Chan who was glaring at the cup as if personally offended by its presence.

But at least he waited until the doctor was gone before looking at me with wide eyes. “What do I do?” Chan asked, holding up the plastic cup while appearing thoroughly taken aback.

“It’s just masturbating,” I hissed at him.

“They want me to jerk off into this cup?” Chan gasped like the idea was so totally perplexing to him.

“How else will they get a sperm sample?” I asked him, rolling my eyes because I was growing impatient.

But Chan still hesitated, using one hand to hold the cup while his other traveled down to the front of his jeans. “Do I just...”

“Yes!” I shouted while standing up from my chair. “It’s nothing hard, Chan, you’ve been masturbating since 9th grade!”

“Yeah, but it’s embarrassing to do it here,” Chan argued, and I sighed for what had to be the thousandth time that day.

“There’s a curtain for privacy,” I said, reaching for my bag from the floor. “I’ll be waiting outside until you’re done.”

“Y/N!” Chan whined, but I left without another word, hoping that Chan could get his shit together because I was exhausted and the prospect of the bed waiting for me at home was suddenly everything that I wanted.

It turned out that Chan and I were both perfectly healthy, and there should be nothing impeding my ability to finally get pregnant. Chan even managed to smile after our doctor complimented his sperm because they were powerful swimmers or whatever the hell that meant. But that had also been hours ago, and after a well-deserved nap, I was feeling exceptionally horny. Thankfully, Chan was never the type to turn down sex, and a few innocent kisses had turned into a full-blown pornography session within moments of me circling my hips against the front of his jeans.

“Fuck me, Chan,” I said, and he nodded eagerly as we both helped each other escape the obstacle of our clothes.

“You should apologize to my dick first,” Chan said teasingly when he had me spread open in front of him, fisting his cock as he started jerking himself off.

“What? Why?”

“You questioned my performance earlier,” Chan said with a shit-eating grin. “Maybe my cock isn’t good enough for you.”

“It’s fine,” I said, whining when I tried to wrap my hand around the base of his erection, only to have Chan knock it away with a sharp growl. "Alright!” I groaned. “I’m sorry I questioned your all-powerful shaft, okay? So, can you please just fuck me already?”

Chan chuckled at my easy compliance, and he ran his thumb across the slit of his cock before positioning himself at my wet entrance. “Remember that next time, Y/N,” he said, exhaling shakily when he started to push inside.

“Shit!” I cried, reaching out for his broad shoulders as I held on as tight as possible for the ride waiting ahead of me.

“Such a tight cunt,” Chan remarked, pausing a moment to grind himself against my insides just to feel the pressure around his cock.

“Go faster,” I requested, throwing my head back when he complied, smacking his hips into mine as he searched for the perfect angle to leave me seeing stars.

“Yeah?” Chan purred, and he started thrusting faster than before, dragging his cock against the pulsating walls of my cunt, forcing more arousal to leak out around him. “Look at how good you always take my cock, baby.”

I reveled in the praise, craning my neck to the side just so that I could watch him disappear inside of me over and over again to match the sensation of his thick cock filling me up so well that it was almost mind-numbingly good. The best part was the pleasing sound of Chan’s moans, and I admired the way that he held himself up over me so that his muscles were practically bulging as he rolled his hips with seductive grinds. Meanwhile, I was drooling over the visual of his bulging biceps, whining underneath him because Chan was being unusually rough. Not that I would ever complain since every thrust managed to brush the tip of his cock perfectly against my cervix.

But it was only after Chan reached down to add a finger to the already tight fit of his cock inside my pussy that I remembered something that I had read on the internet as part of my endless pregnancy research. My eyes flew open at the reminder, and the lustful haze surrounding my sex-addled brain quickly vanished. “Hold on, Chan,” I said, pushing against his chest and disrupting the steady rhythm he had been maintaining.

“W-what?” Chan stuttered, pulling out while watching me roll over onto my stomach.

“This is a better position,” I said, raising my ass high into the air before giving him a teasing wiggle.

“Whatever,” Chan grunted, still too gone in his pleasure to care that much about my shenanigans. He immediately caged me in with his thighs, fumbling with his erect cock before aligning the tip with my aching cunt. I was relieved when he started jostling his cock back where it belonged, meandering in elegant strokes that resulted in the best friction.

“Make sure you come,” I told him while decorating the pale skin of his shoulders with nail marks as I reached behind me.

“You first,” Chan insisted, and my heart warmed at his selflessness even while it felt like all the blood inside of me was rushing south, moving through my veins and spilling over with a rapid descent that left me seeing white while Chan moved even quicker, thrusting like a man deprived.

I felt him come only moments later with the familiar heat that I had grown to appreciate more and more over the last few months. Thereafter, I immediately reached for a pillow from behind me, wincing at the sensitivity that lingered between my legs. “What are you doing?” Chan asked when he collapsed on the bed next to me.

“It’s supposed to help,” I said, raising my hips to place the pillow directly underneath me. “This article said that raising your legs after sex can improve your chances.”

“That seems ridiculous, Y/N,” Chan said.

“Hey! Blame your sperm,” I countered. “It’s not my fault they need an extra boost.”

“My sperm are just fine,” Chan grunted. “You heard the doctor. They’re excellent swimmers.”

“This is just a precaution,” I told him, sighing in relief when I reached down to cup my heat, ensuring that all of Chan’s cum stayed inside where it belonged.

For the past several weeks, work had become something of a chore that I was forced to endure on a regular basis. It was often a struggle to force my way through piles of paperwork or tedious emails that always said much of the same thing. After a while, I would find myself glaring at the clock because I was quite certain that time was moving slow for the sole purpose of annoying me.

There was also the issue of dealing with my colleagues, especially the ones who liked to gossip and had effectively made a whole thing out of my failed attempts at pregnancy. “Oh, Y/N,” they would tell me. “It’s been three months, hasn’t it?”

Like they didn’t have anything better to do with their lives besides meddle in mine. But the worst of them all were the ones who decided that they were some kind of authority figures and tried to give me helpful “advice.” Everything from the shit that I had already heard from my doctor and the articles online, to bizarre practices that left me wondering where they found their information.

My manager’s personal assistant was a frequent advocate. She was far more insistent than the rest of them because she already had two kids at home who she described as future Mozarts in the making. And because she had already been successful (twice, I might add), she always sat next to me at lunch with a new suggestion that supposedly guaranteed fertilization.

“It could be that he’s under too much pressure,” she told me before biting into her salad.

“I’m asking him to have sex with me, not invent a new computer,” I grumbled.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ve both been having a lot of sex, which might seem like a good idea,” she continued. “But it might actually turn out to be far worse.”

“What do you suggest then? Should I kick him out of the bedroom for a week or two?” I snarked, but she was hardly bothered by my sarcastic attitude.

“My husband and I tried stimulating him more directly,” she explained. “Maybe you could try it out.”

“How so?”

“It’s something like a prostate massage,” she revealed in a hushed tone as if it was top-secret information. “There’s all kinds of information about it on the internet.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said, wanting nothing more than to brush aside her words, but maybe I was too desperate because I found myself skimming through countless articles after lunch, soaking in the vast amounts of information that I uncovered.

And I left the office that day with a new strategy in mind to surprise my husband.

The moment I first walked through the door, I was yanking off my jacket and calling for Chan who ducked his head out of our bedroom. “Why the hell are you yelling?”

“Because I have a wonderful idea,” I said, practically skipping over to him and offering him a deep kiss.

“Y/N,” Chan murmured against my touch, grabbing my shoulders to pull me back. “What are you going on about?”

“Just take your stupid clothes off,” I said, skirting past him into the bedroom. “I want you naked on the bed.”

“You’re already horny?” Chan chuckled, but he made no protest of yanking his shirt over his head.

“I want to try something,” I told him, opening the door to our closet to search for something that we hadn’t used together in a long time.

“Should I be afraid?” Chan asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as he fisted his half-hard erection.

“Not if you have an open mind,” I said, turning around to hold up the bottle of lube, and Chan’s smile instantly vanished.

“What’s that for?”

“Well, tonight I’m using it on you,” I said, laughing at the way his forehead creased in confusion. “My co-worker actually made a pretty useful recommendation today.”

“Okay?...” Chan trailed off with an expression of perfect concentration - like he was doing his absolute best to understand.

“The internet called it prostate milking,” I explained, biting my lower lip to keep myself from laughing at the horrified expression on Chan’s face. “I want to stimulate your prostate.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” Chan asked.

“Look, it has a lot of medical benefits,” I said. “Plus, I read that it can feel really good.”

Chan squired anxiously on the bed when I sat down next to him, and I could see that his cock was perfectly flaccid between his legs. “I don’t know, Y/N-”

“Don’t worry,” I interrupted him. “This is perfectly normal. Now, be a good boy for me and get on your hands and knees.”

Chan frowned. “Good boy?” he grumbled before obeyed my command, crawling his way up the bed to position himself in the way I had suggested.

“There we go,” I said, softly running a hand down his spine.

“So far, I’m not impressed,” Chan muttered.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” I said, situating myself behind him before palming his ass. “This looks better than I remember, Channie.”

“Yeah, I guess the squats helped,” Chan said, and he flinched when I snapped a glove in place over my right hand. “What’s that for?”

“You think I’m gonna mess around your ass without a glove?” I snorted. “That’s not very hygienic.”

“Hygienic, yeah, okay,” Chan huffed, and he let out a noise somewhere between a whine and a grunt when I opened the bottle of lube and drizzled some on my fingertips.

“Hold still,” I said, trying to get him to relax when my finger started circling his asshole, pushing against the tight muscle which wasn’t so easy to penetrate. However, with enough perseverance, I forced one finger inside and heard Chan release a rather unattractive sound.

“How does it feel?” I asked him, trying to move my finger around like I had read online.

“It just feels like you’ve shoved your finger up my ass,” Chan snapped, and I knew not to take it personally since he wasn’t so willing to go along with my crazy scheme in the first place.

“Don’t be so tense,” I said, rubbing my hand along his lower back. “Should I use more lube?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, Y/N,” Chan groaned, and I could tell that he was growing frustrated.

I was also losing confidence - wondering if this had been a bad idea because it definitely wasn’t as easy as my co-worker promised. Plus, I could tell that Chan was uncomfortable, squirming around under me while his cock hung limply between his legs. Clearly, he wasn’t finding any pleasure from this, and maybe it was entirely my fault for jumping into this without more preparation.

“Shit, Chan,” I said, removing my finger while releasing a sigh. “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have done this.”

I cleared my throat, feeling increasingly anxious when Chan refused to respond to my apology. He was still supporting himself on his hands in front of me, chest heaving up and down with each breath. I could see that the bright red tint to his ears betrayed his embarrassment and that only made me feel worse because the last thing I wanted to do was make this bad for him.

Eventually, Chan rolled off to the side of the bed, collecting his sweatpants from the floor before walking into the bathroom. I closed my eyes when the door slammed behind him, and I quietly left the bedroom to give Chan some privacy because it was obvious that he wasn’t pleased with the situation.

So much for my co-worker’s stupid suggestion.

However, in the grand scheme of things, I was always the first to recognize when my actions warranted reprimand.

After sleeping on the couch in the living room, I woke-up with a sore lower back and a guilty conscious. Chan had already left for work that morning, and he probably hadn’t paid me a single glance. But I probably deserved his wrath, which meant I would do everything that I could to make it up to him.

Consequently, I found myself flashing a bright smile at Chan’s office secretary who greeted me politely before calling Chan’s phone to see if he had some time to see me. There was a small part of me which worried that Chan might send me away because of last night’s events. Thankfully, his secretary waved me inside and I took a deep breath before opening the door while carrying the packed lunch I prepared for him.

Once inside, Chan offered me a cursory glance that only lasted a brief moment until his attention was once again focused on the file in front of him. “Channie,” I said, wincing at my shrill tone. “I brought you some lunch.”

I hesitated when Chan didn’t respond - walking over to his desk to carefully deposit the bag on his desk. I waited for a brief moment, but Chan refused to acknowledge me, which meant I needed to approach him more directly. “I’m sorry about last night, Channie,” I said, coming around his desk to perch myself on the edge. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m also sorry about the past few months because I’ve been so desperate to finally have my positive pregnancy test that I started to really neglect you.”

The pen Chan had been writing with stopped in the middle of whatever sentence he had been writing, and my husband finally allowed me the privilege of looking into his dark brown eyes. “It’s hard for me to stay mad at you, Y/N,” Chan said, and I nearly burst into tears at the simple declaration.

“You deserve to be mad at me,” I said. “I can’t believe you let me get away with acting like this. You should get the husband of the year award or whatever.”

Chan chuckled, tossing his pencil aside. “Sweetheart, I know how much this means to you, and I want it just as much, but maybe it would be nice if we could be intimate sometimes without worrying about whether or not we’re following all those advice columns you read.”

“You’re right,” I agreed, and I pushed myself away from the edge of the desk and fell onto my knees in front of him - reaching out to grab his thighs between my hands. “What if I blew you right here in the office?”

Chan’s answering moan was enough to solidify my resolve, and I easily worked apart the belt fastening around his suit pants. My fingers worked with an experienced touch because this wasn’t the first time we had done something like this in his big executive office and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. “Fuck, Y/N,” Chan said, grabbing large handfuls of my hair while directing my lips closer to his exposed cock-head.

“Let me take care of you, darling,” I said, offering a tentative lick to his pulsating tip. Chan was already hard, and I gave him a few strokes with my hand before allowing my mouth to take care of the rest - opening wide to take him as deep as I could without gagging.

“Look at you,” Chan snarled, and his fingers traced the seam of my lips stretched obscenely around his cock.

I moaned around his erection, and Chan closed his eyes as he fingers tightened their hold - hips moving every so often to force his cock even further down my throat. But I’m sure it made for one hell of a visual, and I hollowed my cheeks as I ran my tongue across the distinct vein trailing along the underside.

“Keep going,” Chan said, and I could tell that he was close. And I started bobbing my head up and down, mimicking the same effect of his cock fucking my pussy, relaxing my throat and encouraging Chan to do whatever he needed to push himself over the edge.

He eventually came with an exaggerated groan, and I wrinkled my nose at the taste of him. Yet, I knew better than to let anything go to waste, and I struggled around the rawness of my throat as I swallowed - swiping my tongue around the head of his spent cock to clean up the excess.

“Was it good?” I asked him with a hoarse voice.

“Of course it was,” Chan replied, encouraging me off the floor and into his lap. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as I listened to his heart slow back down to normal. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said, teasing his lips across mine. “You’re not gonna freak out over the fact that we just wasted my perfectly good semen?”

I rolled my eyes before playfully hitting his shoulder. “It’s never a waste if it makes you come like that.”

He smiled, bringing out the fullness of his dimples, and we sat together while Chan ate his lunch and I mindlessly talked about the latest office gossip. It was moments like these that I loved more than anything about my marriage to Chan - pregnancy be damned. Ironically, it was only a few weeks later that I found myself looking down at a thin white strip with a blue cross displayed across the surface: positive.

#stayverse #skzsmutnetwork #skzwriternet #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #bang chan fanfic #chan fanfic #skz chan fanfic #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz smut #skz fluff #skz reader insert

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cold-neon-ocean · 4 years

Note

Concerning the comics, do you dislike Thanos himself or the Black Order's previous (?) affiliation with him?

A mix of both but primarily the former. Thanos is my least favorite fictional character in existence so I’ll always grind my teeth at The Order’s subservience to him seemingly without much reason in the earlier comics aside from “they’re evil and Thanos is the biggest evil so they worship him!” because to me it’s boring. I don’t like god-mod characters and Thanos is the epitome of that trope. “He’s so powerful that only gets defeated by the heroes because he subconsciously wants to lose as punishment, isn’t he just the most tragic villain ever ;A;” gags

Regarding The Order’s affiliation with him I don’t.. MIND it, in fact I do like it as a set up for their coming together, I just wish it was written where the characters had some more agency and Marvel would actually allow them to move on once he’s gone. Admittedly with the Thanos 2019 comics they did seem to attempt this (despite how many holes it poked in the known canon among other things), and I liked some of the ideas presented, mainly The Order starting out as hired mercenaries with Proxima and Maw, I loved that a lot, and how their loyalty is conditional so long as they are benefiting from the partnership (maybe not as flip-floppy as they were in the comics) and are willing to dip out if they aren’t. THAT I really like even though that was clearly never the case in previous comics lol. The problem is that I- love Proxima SO MUCH, and I hate Thanos SO MUCH so my brain doesn’t want her anywhere near him, especially as some mindless lackey because she deserves better lol. Also my issues could stem from my primary introduction to The Black Order came from the MCU where they are VASTLY different characters than what they are in the comics, and far less developed so I had a lot more room to headcanon and make up my own stuff about them freely before I started looking into them in the comics (which could also explain my mixed feelings about how they’ve been written lately in the comics post-Thanos). I do want to preface that I don’t have a complete knowledge of The Order’s history because I can’t find complete lists of all the comics they’re in. Though from what I can find I’ve read most of their content if I’m not mistaken, but I’m sure there are some more obscure minor appearances that maybe explain some things that haven’t been listed anywhere that I’ve missed.

If I were to throw in my input and talk about MY rendition of The Black Order which is how I choose to write them based on my own personal tastes in my side AU where the Marvel Universe is much less CONVOLUTED(the same AU all my Ronan and Crystal content exists in), I have things set up jumping off the initial ideas of Thanos 2019, where the mercenary group Maw and Proxima were in were initially hired by Thanos, with Cull (I refer to Black Dwarf by his MCU name because I like it better lol) and Corvus being added later. And the affiliation is very conditional from The Order’s perspective. The Order are always watching and judging and gauging whether or not the partnership is worth maintaining, Maw and Proxima especially, and even though I try to write for Thanos as little as possible because I hate touching him and only do what’s absolutely necessary, he can feel the pulls of their defiance at times (with Proxima ESPECIALLY) and has to really think about how he holds onto them, hence the change from hiring adults to kidnapping children who are much easier to condition. Think of them as akin to the hyenas and Scar in The Lion King, loyalty and a willingness to do as they’re told until they stop benefiting from it (though the fear of being hunted down and killed for disloyalty keeps them there as well) and later on realizing, and some having known from the beginning, that they’re meant for more than just being servants and want more for themselves. But that’s in my perfect would.

What I mainly don’t like about how The Order were written under Thanos in the canon is that they’re just lackeys with not much to them, we know nothing about them like when or why they joined (prior to Thanos 2019 ofc but even then we still don’t knew when or how Cull and Corvus came into the picture), just that they did and that’s all that matters. They’re there because they’re evil and that’s about it, they’re blind followers with not a single thought going on in their own heads. That did change over time of course but The Order are STILL functioning under a “what if Thanos comes back” basis, like they’ll have no choice but to go crawling back to him whenever/if he does because that’s just what they do? I knew Marvel would never keep Thanos permanently dead in the comics like they said they would lol I called bullshit on that from day one. When Maw mentioned Thanos’ return in Star #5 I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly fell out of my mouth because I KNEW that was coming (though I do appreciate how Proxima didn’t give a single shit about it lmao). There was also something said preceding the Black Order solo comics in 2019 about how Corvus will still ALWAYS choose Thanos above all else, even his wife and brother, which made ZERO sense??? and also I wasn’t sure why this needed stating when Thanos was canonically dead in the comics following the statement that he’d be perma-dead. It felt like they just weren’t gonna let him grow as there was always that possibility they’d bring Thanos back and send The Order right back to him, undoing all the development they’ve done without him like they’ve done before. I remember when Thanos made Corvus kill himself after he returned and formed a new Black Order and Proxima just... didn’t react to it, though this seemed to be retconned after the universe reset so I’m still confused about that. I also think about how in the Death Sentence novel (and I know this kind of exists in it’s own separate universe but just discussing the overall mentality of writing The Order), again Corvus in particular is written like he needs someone to lead him or he can’t even properly function and he even has a full blown emotional breakdown when he realizes Thanos is back and I just… hate it. Him and Proxima “needing” Thanos to be their god and lead them it’s just stupid and weird and I can’t stand it. I remember Proxima even makes an internal statement about how Corvus falls apart when he doesn’t have someone leading him???

So my main issue in regards to Thanos’ affiliation with The Order as it’s written in the canon is that they’re written as if they can’t do anything without him, ofc this is all before the big universe reset with The Challenger where Thanos is supposedly dead for good but we all know that isn’t true. They were given some agency when they were on their own but with the mention of Thanos in the recent Star comic I have… little hope for them remaining their own thing. They talk about how they don’t want to be servants and how they want to do their own thing then the writers have them fall right back into their old beats of being servants for someone and chasing infinity stones and worrying about what T fucking Hanos will think when he comes back and I just…….. want more for them. I want them to be more fleshed out as characters and have actual ambitions and goals that align with their actions. Because they’re such interesting characters that I genuinely love(well most of them) and have a lot of potential, and I want to see them grow and develop and actually follow through with what they say and not get dragged backwards every time the plot requires them to. I’m still catching up on all my Black Order related comics (there aren’t a lot of complete lists of their appearances out there for me to refer to sadly but I’ve read most of the major ones I believe) but all I really want is for them to finally and actually be able to move on from Thanos. Especially with Corvus because (prior to Star #5 which I’ll expand on in a sec) it makes him look fucking stupid to have him default to “we chase the infinity stones because that’s what we do” after having them talk in previous comics about about how they want to be different and work for themselves, and Black Swan is like “chasing the stones has only ever made us miserable, whymst are we doing this???” and have her bring up valid points about how they don’t need to and Corvus is still just like “nope, nope we gotta.” and doesn’t even explain why. And now apparently that ‘why’ is because they expect Thanos to return? Or at least Maw does? I choose to believe that Corvus wanted the reality stone because it could give them some protection from a possible return of Thanos and allow them to stay together and do as they please like they want. To “forge their own reality” as Corvus said in the Death Sentence novel ironically, that would at the very least be a reason to continue infinity stone hunting that I’d be on board with.

I dunno, lol perhaps my lack of the full scope with missing a few things from sporadic comics and just my own personal views and tastes regarding the characters clash a lot with how the canon wants to portray them and at the end of the day that just is what it is lol. I didn’t intend this to get so long and.. rambly, the subject of Thanos in general gets me on a soap box and I never know how to get off aah. But yeah I hope that made some semblance of sense? The main gist of the story was really that sentence about loving Proxima and hating Thanos so I just naturally want her nowhere near him; and it was actually that affiliation that put me off of The Order for so long before I finally saw the light and realized they’re all vastly more interesting characters than he is LMAO. But I’m gonna stop because this just hit it’s 3rd page in my google docs and I’m starting to get embarrassed wheezes :’D

#Ask Matsu #[ I don't even know what to tag this lmao #I've been refreshing on comics so if I don't have all my facts straight and am just making myself look dumb then whoops i guess lol #i just don't like thanos man..#like at all i hate him so much he embodies the worst of shitty villain writing to me #and it sometimes sadly bleeds into the order who don't deserve it #I guess that may be why I prefer their mcu versions so much more because they're more blank slates i can do as i please with #because the marvel comic universe is so convoluted at this point it's honestly exhausting trying to even think about keeping facts straight #proxissima

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kimvvantae · 6 years

Text

Umbra; 7

➜ being ruled by an ancient commandment, your sole purpose is to serve. you were born to protect the king with your life, tied by an everlasting oath; you are nothing but a shadow, a silent and insignificant being. he appears to you like the sun, the warmest and brightest star in the sky, and gives you a chance to live. it is then that your entire universe starts to orbit around this sun, and you decide that you are truly willing to die for him.

pairing: King!Taehyung x (f) hybrid!reader

genre: royalty au, fantasy, angst

warnings: descriptions of violence, blood and death that might be triggering.

word count: 11k oOF

A/N: gOSH this chapter is a beast. i’m sorry y’all but i couldn’t hold back this time klaskdlsd after reading, y’all are cordially invited to the tea party in my askbox, where we can drink tea, eat cookies and discuss about this week’s chapter. what are your thoughts on it? what’s your favorite part so far? we can talk about anything, just stop by!

enjoy uwu

➜ Chapters: check up marterlist in bio!

“Chuu? I’m here,” I said, patting her shoulder softly.

The girl groaned, but didn’t open her eyes. I looked back at Yoongi who was standing by the door with crossed arms, a shadow of concern over his features.

“What did the healer say?”, I asked.

“Infection. You know she gets sick easily,” Yoongi said, voice quiet and husky. “But she’s getting better. The fever ceased and she stopped vomiting. The medicine is working.”

I sighed and looked back at the sleeping girl. Chuu always had a fragile health because of her poor conditions when an infant. It was almost a common happening to see her like this, however it did not make us any less concerned.

The moment I stepped inside the palace after so many weeks, I immediately found Yoongi and he told me about her condition. I “vanished” from my superior’s sight before they could give me any task and ran to visit her on her quarters. Fortunately, her state wasn’t as bad as the last time she fell sick. I’ve never been so frightened to lose her as I was that time.

Of course, a guardian is not supposed to feel anything over the death of others. But I just couldn’t bring myself to be so cold anymore.

As I was about to ask something, we heard someone entering the room, what made Yoongi slightly startled.

It was Martha.

I frowned, looking at the chief of the servants. What was she doing this late at night?

She crossed her arms and stared at Chuu with a censoring gaze. "Is she awake?"

"No. Isn't it obvious?", Yoongi replied, glaring at the woman in front of him, anger taking over already. It always amazed me how he could be so blatant towards his superiors.

"I'm getting tired of your insolence, Yoongi! Perhaps you want to pass some days without any food?!" Martha snapped, eyeing him angrily.

"There's no need to scream. I'm right in front of you," I knew Martha hated when he sounded so unaffected by her, and Yoongi never missed a chance to do it. He never kept his head down.

I used to think it was a bad, stupid behavior. Now, I could just think of how brave he was.

Martha rolled her eyes and huffed. "I did not come here to argue with you. Instead, I want to make clear that, sick or not, that girl has to be up in the kitchen at five. Vanaheim's Royal Entourage will be here in a few days and I can't lose any staff. I won't let anyone have a break simply because of a flu or whatever. Understood?"

Yoongi tightened his jaw, gripped the sleeves of his shirt. If looks could kill, Martha would have fallen dead right there.

"Understood." He said between gritted teeth.

Martha nodded and looked back at Chuu one last time, disgust on her features. And I felt disgusted by her. How could she look at Chuu that way? A lovely, hardworking young girl? Couldn't she see how sick she was?

"This girl is bringing me problems ever since she arrived. I always say that we must never buy useless slaves..." she murmured to herself, clicked her tongue and turned around, leaving the room.

Anger took over me.

A small, quiet and evil voice whispered in my head... it would be so easy to hurt her... humans are fragile, tiny creatures. It would be so easy to punish her, teach her a lesson...

"Y/N? I'm talking to you."

I blinked and looked up at Yoongi, that stared at me with confusion.

"What?"

"We should let her rest for now. Hopefully she'll be feeling better tomorrow morning," he said, sighing. I nodded and got up from my sitting position near the bed, looking down at Chuu. She seemed peaceful at least. I adjusted her blankets and followed Yoongi out of her quarter.

We had much to talk.

"You look different."

I frowned. "What?"

Yoongi was still staring at me, all the weight of his body sustained on his hands. The nightly breeze played with his dark locks; his skin could be compared with porcelain under the moonlight. "I don't know. You just... look different."

I frowned and took the tip of my braid between my fingers. "I didn't even cut my hair..." Not that it was relevant, since my hair was always braided because of my conduct code. Yoongi shook his head.

"I'm not talking about appearance. It's just that... I don't know, your posture changed."

I still stared at him, utterly confused. We hadn't talked much for the past minutes, a peaceful silence reigning above us instead as we watched the night sky. It was a habit of us since we were children: sit on the roof of the servants' quarters and talk. Yoongi is a cat so he barely sleeps at night and enjoys high places naturally; I just learned to like this activity because of him.

I enjoyed Yoongi's company. He was a rather quiet man and I was even quieter, however our time spent together was never unpleasant. If Chuu wasn't with us we'd barely communicate at all.

I liked it. The silence has been my friend since my birth. With Yoongi, I felt that I did not have to think too much or act perfectly aligned. I could just breathe and have someone's company.

"I still did not understand," I confessed, what made Yoongi ruffle his hair, thoughtful expression.

"You looked angry down there with Martha." He said. "I don't know if you're aware of it, but you barely ever show any emotion at all. You look like a doll all the time. And no, this is not a compliment: stiff and emotionless. So, seeing you show anger was... shocking."

I nodded. Another thing that I admired about Yoongi: he was straightforward. He did not adorn his words or tried to make them less harsh. His brutal honesty was what I needed sometimes.

Yoongi knew me very well, so it was understandable that he could notice I have changed, however it still surprised me. Was it that obvious?

"Did something happen during your travel?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

Yes, Yoongi definitely knew me very well.

I pushed my legs near my chest and hugged them, resting my chin atop my knees. Instead of answering, I stared ahead in silence. Yes, many things happened during my travel. Things like interacting with other people freely, something that was completely foreign to me. Things like being "normal" for some moments, even though it was just pretending. Things like feeling freedom for the first time in my life - something absolutely denied to a dragon hybrid.

Things like Taehyung.

And also that gnawing, stinging sensation within my chest...

I needed someone to lighten me up. And this person would be Yoongi.

"Why do you hate humans so much?" I asked suddenly.

He groaned and rolled his eyes, annoyance shadowing his features immediately. "Y/N, please, if you're about to censure me again I'll leave..."

"No! You didn't understand," I said promptly, waving my hands. "I don't want to argue with you, Yoongi. I want to understand you."

The catman stared at me with mouth ajar, eyes narrowed.

"Did you hit your head somewhere?"

It was my time to roll my eyes. "Yoongi, please. This is important."

He still stared at me, looking suspicious, surprised and incredulous, all at once. I could understand why. Never did I make such question; I always said he was wrong, he should not hate humans, he should respect his superiors even when he was right, he should obey and obey and obey.

But Yoongi was right: I have changed.

I wanted to understand him. Of course, for a hybrid to hate a human wasn't a hard task, but I wanted to understand his motives. I wanted to know what my closest friend thought, because I never gave him the chance to explain himself and I never gave myself the chance to listen to him.

Yoongi went quiet for several moments. He stared ahead, adjusted his posture. "Honestly, the question should be how can someone not hate humans," he said.

I watched him in silence, eager to absorb everything he had to say. I knew Yoongi is not the kind to express himself easily, so it would probably take time.

His eyes darkened. It was as if his shoulders weighted. I saw something on his gaze very similar to what I saw in Mrs. Dayo's eyes that day...

"I don't know my parents," he started quietly, voice deep and husky. "I barely remember anything about them. Just like Chuu, I was very young when they sold me to this... particular rich woman."

I knew he had reached a sensitive area. He passed his hand through his dark hair, inhaled softly.

"Food in her house was great. I could eat anything I wanted. My room was big and comfortable. She bought me fine clothes and presents almost every day." Yoongi sighed and looked ahead. "She said she loved me. And I... I loved her, too. How couldn't I when she treated me so well?"

My chest tightened at each word of his, because I saw how Yoongi became smaller at each word. I have never seen him look... fragile.

"But then, as I grew up... I started to notice things weren't so perfect. Why didn't she let me play with other kids outside? Why did I have to stay inside the mansion all day? Why when she invited people to her house she introduced me as if I was some kind of exhibition? Why did she make me-"

Yoongi gasped at his own words.

My fists tightened. He massaged his own forehead, looked down at his legs. I could feel that his each word felt like spikes within him. I hated seeing him in that situation.

"That's when I finally realized. I was her pet." He let a humorless, hurtful chuckle past his lips. "I was just one if her possessions. She didn't see me as her equal. She said she loved me, but if she did, why would she make me walk around with a choker on my neck? Why would she make those things to me?" He exhaled weakly and whispered: "I was just a boy."

I gulped, my heart so tight it hurt. Of course, I had an idea of what Yoongi went through on his past, however he never said it out loud – and he didn’t even need to finish. I could fathom the things the woman made him do...

This explained so much about him.

And again – there was that small voice in the back of my mind whispering, you went through similar things in your childhood...

“And why is that?”, he continued, a newborn anger growing on his voice – the anger I always heard when he touched this subject. “What gave her the right to own me like that? She had money, but it didn’t matter; she wasn’t better than me. She couldn’t tell me what to do. That’s why I ran away. My life has been miserable ever since, and I still despise myself for having no other choice but to work for humans here, but I am aware that it is the best chance I’ll have for now. I’d rather face Martha or other superiors every day than go back to that woman that treated me like a toy.”

“Freedom in a sewer is still better than slavery within a golden cage,” Mrs. Dayo’s words echoed in my ears.

“And it angers me. Why us hybrids are doomed for a miserable life since birth? What wrong did we do?” Yoongi crossed his arms, face frowned. I could see his hatred, his resignation, his revolt. “Why humans think they are superior? We are biologically different, but it doesn’t mean we’re animals. We have needs, we have desires, we have feelings. And no, I don’t care about the elves!” he looked at me as if I would interrupt him, however I just wanted to hear. “It’s been millennia since an elf stepped foot on Earth. I don’t know where they are now, I don’t know what happened and maybe I’m wrong, but if they cared about what happens here they wouldn’t have disappeared, so they have no right to tell us how things should be now. And it includes you.”

Yoongi stared at me seriously. There was still anger on his eyes, however I saw something underneath it... concern.

“I’ll never forget the day we met. You had a fucking poisoned arrow buried on your shoulder, Y/N. Did your master care about it?” He scoffed and shook his head slightly. “I don’t care if you truly believe that the elves ‘determined’ that your race should exist to protect kings. And even if it’s true, then they’re just pure evil. You were a kid. I know you’ve been through worse than me. But still, you’re so... submissive.”

I avoided his gaze, feeling somehow exposed by his speech. “This is not about me...”

“Yes, it is. It is about us. It is about en entire race.” Yoongi stared ahead, his gaze far away. “I’m always arguing with you about it because I want you to understand. Because I know you’re not the only one. How many hybrids think the same way as you? They simply accept their condition without saying a word. They’re slaves; just because their ‘owners’ treat them with minimal care they think they’re blessed, but they are still slaves. I could have anything I wanted from that woman, live a comfortable life; but I was still a slave. This is not our fate. This is not right. And it doesn’t matter how many years pass, even if I die being just a miserable man, even if I’m not able to change anything, I will never accept it. I won’t accept human’s crumbs. I want everything. I deserve everything.”

We fell in a deep, solemn silence.

It was almost hard to breathe. I knew Yoongi was a rebellious person, however I’ve never seen him speaking this way... with so much feeling.

After everything I saw these past months, I could not ignore what he said. I could not ignore that flame inside of me, which just became stronger after I heard his words – as if my confused thoughts finally settled in a complete piece.

A part of me struggled. You are a dragon hybrid; you are a guardian. You exist to serve, to obey; this is the role the elves gave you, and you should feel honored. Hoseok’s voice echoed in my mind: “nothing is above honor.”

But then – there was that second voice, too. That second voice that was born the moment I accepted Taehyung’s offer, the moment I made a choice for the first time in my life, the moment someone offered me freedom for the first time:

Yoongi is right.

I shouldn’t. It was wrong. It went against everything I’ve ever done or learned my entire life...

But I agreed with him.

The whole Capital was at frenzy.

Vanaheim's Royal Entourage would arrive in a few days, so everyone - may it be at the palace or at the city overall - wanted nothing but perfection for their arrival. Squares were being decorated, streets impeccably cleaned, gardens reorganized; at the palace the work was just as hard, servants working with no rest to make every corner of the building pristinely clean and beautiful.

Vanaheim was Ëlv'en's greatest ally and one of the biggest and most powerful kingdoms of the continent. Placed at the Coast, they were well-known for the exportation of seafood, pearls, and their great navy, which possessed hundreds of ships both for war and exploration on their fleet. Rumors said that not even mermaids were brave enough to face Vanaheim's navy.

Ëlv'en and Vanaheim held good relationships since the Five Great Kingdoms were stablished millennia ago. They had been partners not only in commercial accords but wars as well. That is why every ruler had to be very careful to keep this relationship working well. It reflected in why King Satoshi was coming himself to meet Taehyung, and not sending a representative in behalf of him.

Taehyung has been impossibly busy ever since the moment he stepped foot at the Capital again, working to make sure that the King's stay would be perfect. Since he wasn't meeting any foreign at the moment and staying inside the palace all the time, there was no need to follow him everywhere, however I saw him being followed by assistants and counselors all the time. When Taehyung wasn't inside his office working, he was resting on his royal quarters.

It was odd (and stupid), but the fact that we could barely talk made a hollowness set inside of me. I should not be feeling this way. I should be his shadow; quiet and imperceptible. I should not seek for his attention...

But I couldn't say I did not miss our secret expeditions, when I could pretend for a few hours that we did not have this insurmountable wall between us.

The fact is: I was deeply, utterly confused. Confusion was something I was not used to; my life has always been like a river floating peacefully in a single direction. Now, it felt like the angry sea under a storm.

Yoongi's words did not leave my mind. Why I always thought that he was wrong? It's not as if I had no idea hybrids where badly treated before. I didn't know so many hybrid villages existed before the expeditions with Taehyung, however I always knew most of them were slaves. I am a hybrid after all.

It felt as if I was blind all along; as if I was deaf, until someone finally took what was obstructing my ears and I was able to hear for the first time.

And what I heard were screams of pain and hatred. Voices yelling desperately to be heard...

Voices yelling for justice.

Why never did I hear them before?

And apparently, I was so out of my senses that I couldn't even hear literally, because it took me several moments to notice there was someone calling my name.

I turned around in the courtyard and saw Jungkook waving to me.

I walked towards the rabbit-boy. He looked physically way better than when we first met him – Jungkook had gained weight, his skin had a healthy color again, and he even cut his ebony hair, since when we met him his hair was long and horribly dirty. He still walked with a limp, but his injury was almost healed and he could do almost any task again – what he was doing at the moment, carrying some wooden crates towards the kitchen.

Instead of just letting him go, Taehyung decided that he still needed medical assistance and kept the young man with the Entourage. Jungkook barely interacted with anyone else, actually. Whenever Taehyung came around him, he would just nod and reply with monosyllabic sentences.

He interacted with me, though.

It was odd, however I noticed that Jungkook felt somehow comfortable around be. Perhaps because I was one of the few females within the Entourage, perhaps because we were around the same age – I did not understand why, but he was slightly less stiff with me.

Just slightly.

I was the one who convinced him to come back with us and work at the palace. I knew they always needed manpower, and his good physique would be highly appreciated. As always, working at the palace wasn’t the best, but was also far from being the worst – and Jungkook surely knew the worst. He could work there for a while until he found out exactly what he wanted to do. Being honest, I didn’t even expect he would actually listen to me.

Of course, being a guardian, I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I’ve been doing a lot of things I shouldn’t lately, so I thought that one more thing wouldn’t hurt.

“Hello, Jungkook,” I greeted politely. “Are you getting used to the palace’s routine?”

The rabbit-boy cleaned his forehead with the back of his hand. “Perhaps. It’s not that bad.” He shrugged. “Is that woman Martha always so annoying?”

“She is worse,” I said honestly, what made Jungkook tilt his head – a very frequent habit of his, I could tell.

He exhaled and put his hands on each side of his waist, looking around. “Food is good here. The other servants are quite welcoming. I have more freedom than I had in my past work. I think having a bed is way better than sleeping on the ground. And, well... I like the fact that they call me servant and not slave.” he admitted. “Maybe you were right.”

“I’m happy to hear this,” I said, nodding.

“I am still a slave, though,” he murmured.

There it was again. That aggressiveness inside of him, a caged fire waiting for the right time to explode. I couldn’t judge him – not after what he suffered. I didn’t know what to say to ease his feelings. And honestly, I don’t think there was anything that could ease them at all.

“I can understand how you feel-” I started, only to be interrupted by his huff.

“No, you can’t understand me, Y/N. You’re a human, how could you understand?”

I stood there dazed for some seconds. Oh. Jungkook still did not know my true nature...

“I am not a human, Jungkook.” I said quietly.

The rabbit-boy scoffed yet again, quirking one eyebrow. “And what are you, then? A dog?”

Instead of replying his quite unpolite sentence, I just stared deep within his eyes in silence.

Jungkook still had that mocking demeanor for some moments. Then, slowly, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stared back at me.

From confusion, pure shock.

His eyes widened. He stepped behind. His breath got caught on his throat.

“You are... y-you are...” he stuttered weakly.

I just nodded once.

Jungkook let a shaky exhale, passed his hand through his hair. “I-I would never have noticed if you didn’t tell me... dragon,” he whispered the last word weakly.

“Yes. Believe me, I understand how you feel-”

“You are a dragon hybrid,” Jungkook repeated as if he hadn’t heard me at all.

Then, I saw a reaction I was definitely not expecting.

His big round eyes shining in pure amazement. His lips lifted up in a smile. He measured me from head to toe as if seeing me for the first time.

Why did he look amazed? The only person I saw showing a similar reaction was Taehyung, but with Jungkook it was much more intense.

“This is why I felt something about you- something I couldn’t understand back then-” Jungkook continued, his maniac grin only growing. “A dragon hybrid! How can you camouflage yourself so well between humans? Why are you covering your own presence? Now that you told me I can feel it- It’s like- it's like a noise so constant you get used to it and don’t even notice it until someone points out, and now that you pointed out... I can feel your power!”

I watched him, completely confused, as Jungkook mumbled his nonsense.

What?

“Of course I have to cover my presence. I am the guardian of the King,” I said, eyeing him.

And with a single sentence, all the amazement vanished from Jungkook's eyes, being replaced by shock...

And outrage.

"The King's guardian?", he crossed his arms over his toned chest, narrowing his eyes. "Why do you serve them?"

"You know why," I said, now even more confused. "It was the role the elves gave my species."

However, after hearing Yoongi's words, after everything I went through for the past two months, even I thought my words sounded empty. I did not pronounce them with the same intent, with the same pride I used to pronounce.

It was just an excuse.

I didn't even know if it was right anymore.

Jungkook rolled his eyes - eyes that just a few seconds ago looked at me with astonishment, now looked at me judgingly. "You are a dragon. How can you accept this situation? How can you willingly let them tame you? These... these humans?"

"You don't understand, Jungkook. I chose to be here. I chose to protect the King," I said, tightening my fists. Who this boy thought he was to judge me like that? He didn't know me.

"Why do you let them treat you like that?" Jungkook continued, once again, as if he hadn't heard me. "I saw that man slapping your face at the inn, one day before we came to the Capital."

I almost gasped.

"He is my superior..." I said weakly.

"And?" Jungkook shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe it. You are- your race is the most powerful in existence, and you still let these humans treat you like this? You let them treat you like a slave? You submissively let them do it to you?"

I could only stare at him.

I did not know what to say.

Jungkook shook his head again.

"My parents always told me about dragons. They said you were mighty and powerful. But now what I see is just disappointing."

Once again, I was confused. Why would his parents even tell him something about dragon hybrids in the first place? "And what did you expect of me?"

"Certainly not this." He stepped forward, suddenly lowering his voice. I could see the fiery anger burning within his eyes, within his soul. "You know very well how our race is suffering not only here, but through the entire continent. You know we are enslaved and treated like animals. However, you do nothing. Most of us can't fight against them, but you can. And you do nothing! You accept this situation, you agree with it. You let us rot and die."

"What?" I stared at him in disbelief. "Are you even hearing yourself? How can you blame me? This is not my fault!"

"If you have the power to change it yet you chose to do nothing, then yes, it is your fault!" Jungkook stormed, making me look at him in utter shock. "You prefer to serve a human, a man from a lineage of murderers, instead of helping the ones of your own race!"

"You are wrong." I immediately stepped forward, rage suddenly taking over me. I saw regret and fear passing through Jungkook's eyes for a moment, as if he realized he shouldn't have gone this far. I did not care if he offended me, but I wouldn't let him say such things about Taehyung. "His Majesty is not a murderer. You should know it. If it wasn't for him, you would be dead by now; he saved you. His Majesty is good."

Jungkook stared at me for some moments. I saw his anger calming down a little, but not disappearing. The flame was still there, burning him inside out.

"If he is good," Jungkook started, his voice quieter yet spiteful, "Then why did he make you his slave?"

"I am not his slave-" I tried to say.

"Can you quit your job?" He interrupted me. "Can you tell him you want to leave? Can you go anywhere without his or other superior's consent? Can you live a life of your own?" I slowly closed my mouth. I didn't know what to say. "We both know the answer is no. This is called slavery. You are just like me; you are a slave." He stepped closer to me, lowering his voice even more. "He might do some good things, like what he did to me. But he will never understand us or know what we feel. He is the most privileged one, why would he want to change anything? It might look like he will change things, but he does it to keep his good popularity. He is young, he is charismatic, people believe him easily. This is what the Kim Dynasty has been doing since the beginning. And if you don't believe me, then see things by yourself. You know him more than I do after all."

I hated it. I hated not knowing what to say. I hated not having an answer. I hated it that I could not defend my master.

I hated it that he managed to put this question inside of me.

Because something started to bother me terribly from the moment he pronounced these words.

"If she loved me so much, why would she make me walk around with a choker?", I heard Yoongi's voice saying quietly in my mind.

I carried something similar around my neck, too.

My medallion. One of the only five in existence. Five Great Kingdoms, five great guardians. The symbols that pointed me as Ëlv'en's Royal Guardian; symbols of loyalty and submission...

It was nothing but a choker.

A choker for a trained animal.

Why do you let them tame you like that?

No human should tame you.

"The King requests your presence at the principal hall."

That single sentence made a thrill rush over my body.

I thanked the guard that came to give me this message and closed the door of my room. What did he want? It's been days since the last time we've been close. Besides, it was already late in the night...

I gulped.

After dressing myself appropriately to be in the presence of the King, I left my room. A twirl of feelings made havoc inside of me - some I could recognize, some I couldn't. There was excitement, I couldn't deny. As wrong as it was, I missed him.

And there was... suspicion.

As if Yoongi's words weren't enough, now Jungkook's words also did not let me rest - especially what he said about Taehyung.

I have always been suspicious of him. Again, I did not know why he chose me as his guardian, and honestly most of his intentions were unknown. Jungkook just added more fire to the pit.

"If he is so good, then why did he make you his slave?"

Only a little time ago, I would never see things this way. I was always proud to be a guardian. But now... I couldn't deny that I partially agreed with what Jungkook said. I was a slave.

Did it mean Taehyung was just another evil King...?

No, an angry part of me said. I tightened my fists, my steps echoing through the quiet palace hallways. Jungkook didn't know what he was saying; he didn't know Taehyung as well as me. I might not fully understand him, but he was the man that helped hybrids with his own power after all. How could it be considered a political movement when the hybrids didn't even know they were at the presence of their King? I knew Taehyung hated this situation, he hated seeing people suffer. Besides, he was good to me from the moment we met. Taehyung never forced me to do anything. He was the one who made me feel freedom for the first time in my life.

He was not evil...

But I could not think much of it, because in the moment I saw him standing there my mind went completely blank.

It was odd how my heart was beating so fast. It's been just a few days since I did not see him from up close, yet the sight was enough to almost make me trip over my own feet. Why every detail about him was able to make me so amazed? His tanned skin, his soft dark hair, his broad shoulders and perfect posture. Graceful, but at the same time strongly masculine. Everything about him was perfectly balanced.

He had his hands inside the front pockets of his pants. Taehyung wore casual clothes (note that the royal standard of casual is what a common person would never be able to purchase). Black pants, navy blue shirt. I always thought he looked good in blue.

He turned around when noticed my presence and opened a small smile.

I stopped in front of him and bowed respectfully. "Good night, Your Majesty."

"Good night," he replied. It was also odd that I missed the sound of his quiet, deep voice.

"Your Majesty requested my presence. Did something wrong happen?" I asked. Why was I feeling so stiff all of sudden?

"We're going somewhere," he said with no further explanations. "Follow me."

I did as he said in silence as he guided me through the palace. The whole building was utterly quiet, almost empty, only guards doing the nightly vigilance. Vanaheim's King would arrive the next day, so the place was already prepared for his arrival. It was time for everyone to rest before the big event.

Taehyung should be included, but as always, he did the exact opposite of what everyone expected.

I side eyed him. The King looked weirdly relaxed, his hands still inside the pockets. He smelled of soap and his hair was slightly damp, what told me he had just taken a shower. However, I still noticed the bags beneath his eyes.

"You're uncharacteristically quiet today," Taehyung said suddenly.

He was right. But somehow, it felt strange to be around him again. I did not feel so comfortable to interact with him inside the palace where he was the King twenty-four hours a day as when we were traveling. Also, I could not forget General Seokjin's warning...

"I am a quiet person, Your Majesty," I said sheepishly.

Taehyung chuckled quietly. "I know. Well, it's not a big deal. I enjoy your company, quiet or not."

It was also odd how my heart nearly stopped because of his sentence.

We arrived at one of the palace's side exits near the gardens. The royal garden was gigantic, millimetrically pruned into perfection. Millions of flowers, fountains made of gold gurgling water quietly, and there was even a maze made of bush walls. The scenery still looked beautiful even at night.

We crossed the camp in silence and reached the almost hidden exit. There was a guard waiting for us. With no words, he handed us two simple hooded cloaks, which he put over our shoulders promptly. Before we left, Taehyung put his hand on the guard's shoulder and nodded.

"Thank you, Jaehyun," he said. The guard just bowed respectfully.

And in a few minutes we were walking freely through the city.

Most streets were quiet, but as expected of a big city there was a considerable number of people awake, inside taverns or restaurants, having peaceful walks at the Capital's many squares, enjoying the cozy night. Most big cities in Ëlv'en were safe, so it was not shocking to see kids walking around this late at night.

I have never been out at that hour. I could not leave the palace without permission. Seeing people having fun, dancing inside taverns at the sound of loud music or simply enjoying themselves was somehow pleasing-

My mind went blank again when I felt Taehyung's hand holding mine.

"Your Majesty-" I gasped, completely shocked.

"It will be less suspicious if people think we're just a couple walking around," Taehyung explained quietly, sounding unbothered.

I swallowed and nodded weakly. "Alright."

Alright. Yes, alright.

We walked through a busy street, people just too drunk to even bother noticing us. Taehyung walked unhurriedly, his other hand still inside the front pocket.

His hand was big.

It made a warmth spread through my entire arm, and my neck, and my face-

Focus!, I scolded myself. We're just holding hands. This is to make us less suspicious. There's no need to be so nervous.

He started to swing our hands between our bodies just slightly.

There's no need to be so nervous.

Taehyung looked so carefree and young...

Don't be nervous! It will be embarrassing if your hand start sweating!

He looked up to the cloudless night sky. A faint smirk adorned his features.

His grip around my hand tightened almost imperceptibly.

Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe-

"We arrived," Taehyung said, his steps coming to a halt.

I looked up to the building in front of us, placed in an empty street. The wooden board just above the front door said...

Royal Capital's Orphanage?

Taehyung stepped closer and knocked on the door three times.

Almost immediately, an old woman opened the door, a wide smile on her face.

"Tae Tae!" She exclaimed, opening her arms for a hug.

I frowned. Tae Tae?

Taehyung dropped my hand and engulfed the short woman into one of his tight hugs. "Zofia! It's been so long!" He said happily.

I watched the scene in utter confusion. I should be used to this already.

It took me some moments to notice the small deer horns peeking from her grizzly hair. A hybrid.

"Get inside!" She said, still smiling and patting Taehyung's back softly.

I followed them quietly, while that woman Zofia ruffled his hair and made questions such as "How have you been? How's your sister? Are you eating well?"

(I wondered why Taehyung held the love of each elder woman he encountered.)

He then looked at me. "Ah! Zofia, this is Y/N. She's my friend." He said happily. The woman's eyes fell on me and she smiled. I stepped forward and offered my hand for her to take, as I have learned to do when meeting someone, but instead of just the hand she took my entire arm and squeezed me in a tight hug.

"Y/N! It is a pleasure to meet you!" She said, laughing.

"Huh... the pleasure is mine, ma'am," I replied, bashful.

"Where are the kids?" Taehyung asked as Zofia finally let me go, looking around.

"They are already sleeping, Tae. What did you expect? You came so late," she said, crossing her arms.

Taehyung looked disappointed for a second. I already knew he liked kids a lot. "Well, unfortunately we can't stay long anyway."

"There's no problem, Tae. I know you are very busy." She then put her hands on her chest and sighed, looking up at him with yelling affection. "I can't believe my little boy now is the King! You looked so beautiful during the coronation ceremony!"

Taehyung smiled and scratched the nape of his neck. As odd as it sounds, he did look like a little boy in that moment. "Thank you, Zofia. I promise I'll come back another day when I have more time." He then straightened his posture. "Where's Jimin?"

"He's in the office, waiting for you."

Taehyung nodded and motioned me to follow him.

The orphanage was big and clean, although I could see some toys threw her and there. It wasn't a big surprise that Taehyung would know such place anymore.

He opened a particular door and smiled. "Jimin!"

I followed him inside the office and saw another man, a human, probably the same age as Taehyung. He had honey blond hair and feline eyes, which were almost completely closed as he smiled and approached Taehyung.

They hugged and patted each other's backs for some moments, mumbling greetings to each other. As usual, I stood awkwardly some steps away. Who was that man? Why did Taehyung want to meet him?

I introduced myself and Jimin smiled sweetly in reply. There was a smoothness about him I didn't frequently see in common humans; his gaze was almost as piercing as Taehyung's.

"So, why did you call me?" Jimin started, crossing his arms and leaning his hip on the wooden desk. "I have to say, all this mystery made me nervous. Why is Ëlv'en's King wanting to meet me in secret?"

I saw Taehyung rolling his eyes and they smiled at each other. Jimin said "Ëlv'en's King" with a mocking playfulness, as an old friend would say.

"I need you to do something for me, Jimin," Taehyung said, still smiling, however his voice got serious.

"You understand that I can't do it without asking something in return, don't you?" Jimin said quirking one eyebrow.

Taehyung huffed and crossed his arms. "Of course you'll be fairly paid."

"Well, taking money from the King is not something that happens everyday. I can't let this chance go," Jimin said, shrugging, a mischievous smirk on his plump lips. "What is it?"

"I need you to find some archives to me at the Tower," Taehyung said. "I want to know the name of every shapeshifter in this continent. A wolf shapeshifter, to be more specific."

Oh.

So that's why we came here. I should've figured; Taehyung did not explain what he wanted to do inside the palace because it would be dangerous, since he thought the culprit was one of his own family and could be hearing our conversation.

Jimin nodded. "Well, it won't be difficult. There aren't many shapeshifters out there." The blond man narrowed his eyes. "But why don't you ask for it yourself? You are the King, Taehyung. You could get anything you wanted from the Royal Mages."

"No questions, Jimin. For your own sake," Taehyung said seriously. Jimin still eyed him suspiciously, but ended up agreeing.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." Taehyung then smiled sadly. "Unfortunately, I can't stay long. We can talk properly when I have more time."

"But I won't have time from now on," Jimin said, his eyes suddenly gleaming with excitement.

He approached Taehyung and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Seulgi is pregnant, Taehyung."

The King looked at him in complete awe, his mouth forming a perfect "o".

“What?” Taehyung exclaimed, a huge, genuine smile growing on his lips. He immediately pushed Jimin (rather roughly) into a tight hug, both men laughing – while once again I stood there uncomfortably, feeling like an intruder. “God! I am so happy for you!”

“It was unexpected, but we’re happy, too,” Jimin said. If auras had color, Jimin’s would be bright yellow; pure joy.

“Where is Seulgi?” Taehyung asked, finally leaving the shorter one.

“She’s hidden and safe.” Jimin assured. I frowned. Why would she – Jimin's wife, apparently – need to be hidden? “I promise that when things get calmer, I’ll take you to visit her. She misses you, too.”

I watched as they kept talking with smiles on their faces. As usual, I did not fully understand the situation... but all I could focus on was Taehyung’s smile. Taehyung’s eyes shining in delight.

He got so happy simply because of other’s happiness.

How could someone like him be evil?

Our way back to the palace was silent, but it was my fault. I couldn’t think properly with Taehyung holding my hand.

The moment we stepped out of the Orphanage (after Zofia shoved Taehyung with hugs, kisses on his cheeks and said “may the elves guide you” to us hundreds of times), his hand immediately held mine again. I had to gather all of my self-control not to gasp. I was not used to such physical contact; however, if it was any other man, I would have pushed them away. With Taehyung, though...

Well.

He looked even more relaxed after our visit, a lazy smile on his lips all the time. We entered the palace’s property again and-

And he was still holding my hand.

Why is he still holding my hand? We’re not in the streets anymore, there’s no need to pretend-

“I have to keep reminding you all the time that you can make me questions, isn’t it, Y/N?”

I blinked, side eyeing my master. It was difficult to look at him when he was so close. He probably thought I wanted to make questions about today, when in fact I was trying not to combust.

“I apologize, Your Majesty,” I said weakly. Taehyung chuckled.

“You don’t have to apologize all the time, Y/N.”

“Oh. I apologize for apologizing too much.”

Taehyung laughed for real at this, looking at me playfully. “Was that a joke?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know how to make jokes, Your Majesty,” I said.

“And this was sarcasm.” Taehyung tilted his head slightly. Why did he look endeared? “Who are you learning these things from?”

Only if he knew my closest friend was the most sarcastic person in existence...

“Why does Jimin’s wife needs to hide?” I got brave enough and decided to ask, changing the topic completely to take his attention off of me.

“Because she’s a hybrid. You know how hard this situation is for pregnant hybrids,” Taehyung replied. I knew it; their babies could be stolen so they could be sold as slaves. It was a sad, common occurrence free hybrids had to deal with.

That’s not what shocked me, though.

“She is a hybrid? And they are married?” I exclaimed to myself. Taehyung nodded.

“Yes. Many humans are married to hybrids, Y/N. You just don’t hear about it because it’s against the law,” the King explained.

Before I could make any more questions about this strange and unexpected situation, Taehyung gasped and his steps came to a halt, making me stop as well. He stared up to the sky.

"It's full moon," he exclaimed, as if he had remembered something very important.

"It is," I murmured, looking at the silver orb glowing brightly in the cloudless sky.

Taehyung thought for some moments, then faced me. It was one of these moments which I couldn't bring myself to look away. And he has never been so close...

His eyes gleamed with newborn excitement. "Do you want to see something amazing?"

I stared at him in awe. How could a man look so pure? How could I say no to whatever he was proposing?

"Yes...?" I said, confused.

Taehyung nodded, his grip on my hand tightening. "Then let's go. We don't have much time!"

And with that, he started to run towards the entrance of the palace, dragging me along.

I accompanied his pace with no difficulty, our hurried steps echoing loudly through the building. Taehyung guided me through the labyrinth that is this colossal palace, turning on corners and going upstairs, never once slowing his pace. I recognized where he was leading me to: the royal quarters where members of the royalty had their private rooms, a zone usually forbidden to me.

"We're almost there!" He said, stopping momentarily in front of a great painting, just as tall as the entire wall. I watched as Taehyung pushed the frame, revealing it to be actually a hidden door. It was not surprising; this palace had hundreds of secret passages, all of them which I had memorized...

But I never entered this particular passage.

Taehyung guided me inside and closed the door behind him; I saw a spiral staircase that led several floors up.

"Let's go," he said, panting. We started to make our way up relentlessly until, after some minutes, we finally reached the top.

Taehyung opened one door and I found myself breathless.

Not because of our run, though.

We were at the top of one of the highest towers of the castle, hundreds of meters away from the ground. It had no ceiling, what gave us a beautiful sight of the entire Capital, blanketed by the night.

Taehyung finally dropped my hand, breathing heavily, and dried the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. I too took some moments to recover my breath.

Taehyung looked up. "Good. It seems we arrived just in time," he said.

"In time to what, Your Majesty?" I asked. Wasn't this beautiful view the "amazing" thing he said before?

Taehyung stared at the horizon. Slowly, a smile creeped up on his lips.

He pointed ahead. "In time for that", he said quietly. I looked in the direction he was pointing, confused.

At first, it was just a tiny white point.

But it started to grow. It was approaching us, flying in the sky in our direction.

When I finally figured out what that thing was, I gasped loudly. Taehyung laughed.

I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing.

"Y/N, I introduce you my friend Alpha," the King said proudly.

I watched in utter shock as it finally landed on the tower, its gigantic wings making so much wind it made our hairs and clothes wave violently. Its feathers and fur were completely white. Head and wings similar of an eagle; bottom similar of a lion. Its eyes were icy blue - intelligent eyes that landed on Taehyung immediately.

It was...

"A griffin", I whispered in pure astonishment.

Taehyung approached the majestic creature, a wide smile on his lips. "Hi, Alpha. How have you been?"

The griffin stared at him and lowered his head. I watched in pure awe as Taehyung caressed his head, making the creature close his eyes, pleasured.

Taehyung looked back at me, who was still completely frozen in place. "Come here, Y/N!" He exclaimed, gesticulating for me to approach.

I stepped closer hesitantly. The griffin was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen; his snow-white body seemed to shine under the moonlight. He was colossal and his claws could rip a person apart. Beautiful, however powerful and lethal.

Taehyung held my wrist gently. "It's okay. He won't hurt you," he said quietly, guiding my hand to rest on the griffin's head.

The creature looked at me intently. I tentatively caressed him, and Alpha seemed to like it. I couldn't hold my smile.

"Alpha," I pronounced his name in a whisper. The griffin stared at me. I could tell he was too intelligent, so intelligent he could understand us to some level. I noticed his completely white body - the perfect camouflage. A creature of ice. "Were you born in Niflheim, too?" I asked. Alpha blinked slowly, as if saying 'yes'. My smile only grew. "Then it means you're my brother."

"He knows who you are," Taehyung said slowly, his voice barely audible over the sound of the wind. "He respects you."

He looked amazed. Not by Alpha; by me.

I immediately avoided his gaze.

"How...?" I questioned, unable to formulate a coherent sentence.

"I saved him from hunters, three years ago. He was severely injured," Taehyung explained. I noticed a big scar crossing Alpha's face. "I also helped him to heal. After that, Alpha visits me wherever I go, always during the first full moon of a lunar cycle. I don't understand why he chose this specific date, though."

I nodded, my hand still resting on Alpha's head. He seemed comfortable. "It is said that griffins were the familiars of elves," I said quietly.

Taehyung nodded. "I know. That is, until mankind almost made them extinct." Taehyung sighed, staring at Alpha deeply. "I can't understand how someone could be able to hurt such creature. They almost don't exist anymore. That's why nobody knows about Alpha. I'm concerned that someone might hurt him again."

I nodded. An idea popped up on my mind.

"Do you think Alpha wants to be your familiar, that's why he follows you?" I asked.

Taehyung crossed his arms and shook his head. "Ah, no. I just think he wants to show his gratitude. Sometimes I think he sees me as his child," Taehyung chuckled. "He is not tied to me; he is free. That is how everyone should be, don't you think? Free."

In that moment, I couldn’t agree more with what he said.

But a small voice inside of me whispered... am I free, too?

Alpha suddenly moved, straightening his posture and watched us from above. Taehyung put his hands on his waist. “It’s time for him to leave. He never stays long when I’m at the Capital; he knows it’s dangerous to be in such a crowded city.” The King smiled and waved to the ethereal creature. “See you soon, Alpha.”

The griffin landed his gaze on Taehyung for some moments, then he looked at me. I could see and feel the purity of his soul. A creature so imposing and noble, the last reminiscent that elves once lived among us in Earth. I never thought I would live long enough to see one in person. So little of them remained after the elves disappeared...

“Bye, Alpha,” I said softly. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

Alpha looked at me intently, and I swear I saw him nodding his head. We stepped behind when he extended his immense wings, flying away with yet another gust of wind.

We watched in silence as the creature became smaller and smaller, until he disappeared in the night.

“This is yet another secret I ask you to keep,” Taehyung said lightheartedly. I nodded.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Stepping away from him, I looked around. The sight was breathtaking; the city below looked like a glowing map. The sight extended kilometers and kilometers in front of us, so far I could see where the city ended, so far I could almost see the Styx River at West and the Great Forest Baïkarh at East. Legends said Baïkarh hid the entrance to Alfheim and the Styx River hid the entrance to Helheim; East and West, good and evil, mighty and dishonored side by side.

“It’s wonderful,” I whispered to myself, putting my hands over the parapet made of stone.

“I’d rather say frightening.”

I frowned and looked back to my master.

Taehyung seemed uneasy, shifting the weight of his body uncomfortably. His eyebrows were frowned in a concerned expression, he gulped and suddenly looked small-

“Is Your Majesty scared of heights?” I questioned, quirking one eyebrow.

The King scratched the nape of his neck, looking bashful. “Is it embarrassing?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Of course not, Your Majesty. This is a common phobia,” I reassured him.

Taehyung almost screamed when he saw me sitting on the parapet, my legs swinging into nothing.

“Hey- this is dangerous! You shouldn’t-” he tried, approaching one step.

He froze whein I extended my arm encouragingly in his direction in silence.

“Hm, I don’t think so...” he murmured, staring at my hand with pure fright on his eyes.

“It’s alright,” I reassured him again. “I won’t let Your Majesty fall.”

Taehyung looked at me. He definitely caught the slight tone of challenge in my voice. The King sighed, passed his hand through his hair and rolled his eyes, giving in. “I hope you’re not trying to kill me, Y/N.”

He approached with hesitant steps, gripping my hand. Very carefully, he sat by my side on the parapet. It was almost like seeing a cat approaching water. Taehyung gulped, his legs wobbly, his hand gripping mine so tightly it would’ve hurt if I weren’t so accustomed with pain.

“Wow, this is high. Very, very high.” he gulped again; I could feel his hand shaking slightly against mine. His voice sounded uncharacteristically high pitched and I had to control myself not to laugh. “Oh my God, I think I’ll vomit-”

“Don’t look down. Look ahead instead,” I advised.

Taehyung did what I said, however his body was completely stiff. “How can you be so relaxed when we’re hundreds of meters away from the ground?”

“I am focusing in the view instead of caring about the danger, Your Majesty,” I said softly. And of course, there was the fact I can actually fly, but he didn’t know about it.

“Hm. Okay.” Taehyung went quiet for some more moments. “I get quite talkative when I’m scared, so you’ll have to bear me right now.”

“If it makes Your Majesty feel better,” I said, still looking ahead.

“I remembered something interesting these days,” Taehyung continued, his voice sounding slightly maniac at the moment. “I remember you from when I was little.”

I widened my eyes, shocked. “You do?”

“Yes. Sometimes, I had the impression I saw a little girl following my father. Seokjin said it was the angry spirit of a dead princess that haunted the palace. I couldn’t sleep for weeks.” Taehyung laughed shakily. I smiled too, imagining a frightened young Taehyung under the blankets, trying to sleep. “When I told my father, he simply scolded me as always.”

I side eyed him; it’s been a while since I noticed Taehyung held some hard feelings towards his father, yet he never said it out loud. “He was indeed a severe man,” I said very carefully.

Taehyung huffed. “He was beyond severe. It’s alright, Y/N. We don’t need to pretend. We both know he was not a good person.”

The words got stuck in my throat.

That was unexpected; the stinging sorrow in his voice, the amount of feelings he had within himself. And more importantly – I never thought of my past master this way...

Not yet.

“I... can’t say it for sure,” I admitted, suddenly feeling that turmoil of feelings again. It’s been a while since I’ve been remembering my interactions with King Taejun; he was severe and serious, did not accept any failure. Yet – saying out loud he was bad was something hard to do.

Taehyung watched me in silence for some moments.

“Did you love him, Y/N?” he asked quietly.

I didn’t know what to say.

More importantly, I didn’t understand why he was asking me that.

Love? I respected King Taejun. He was my sun, the reason I would wake up every day. He was the main purpose of my existence. But... love?

“I don’t know,” I whispered, almost as if it was a secret confession. “I don’t know what love is.”

Taehyung nodded and looked ahead.

“It’s alright. I don’t have much experience in this area, either. At least when it’s about paternal love.” I watched him in silence, eager to hear more – especially because I noticed how his grip in my hand was softening, how he was slowly relaxing as he talked. “I was a long-awaited son, but not for the right reasons. My father needed a heir, someone to carry on his legacy. But my mother always had a fragile health. They tried to have children multiple times and failed. My father was going desperate; if he did not have a child of his own, then one of my cousins would become the heir. The crown would leave the principal branch of the Kim House, and disgrace would fall on his shoulders. So you can imagine how satisfied he was when my mother finally gave birth.”

I nodded slowly, encouraging him to keep talking. I did not know why he decided to talk about his life, but I was more than satisfied.

“In the end, I don’t think Taejun saw me as his son after all. I was just the heir, the crown prince. And in order to carry his legacy, he wanted me to be like him.” Taehyung tilted his head. I could see his mind was far away, drowned in memories. “I had classes with the teachers he chose about the themes he wanted. He never approved my interest for magic, because he thought it was useless. However, when I bothered him way too much, guess what? He chose who would teach me.”

“Sir Gael,” I remembered. Now things were starting to make sense. Taehyung nodded.

“Yes. I was always surrounded by people that thought like him. People that said things like pure-human supremacy and unholy hybrids.” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “I would escape to that Orphanage we visited when things got too boring, you know. I met Jimin and Seulgi there. In that Orphanage, both human and hybrid kids grow together with no difference between them. While at home I heard things like unholy hybrids, at that Orphanage I played with these kids and they were just... normal. How could them be bad and unholy? Even as a kid I could see there was something wrong with it.”

His entire body was relaxing slowly, voice getting lower. His grip around my hand was comfortable now.

“When I was old enough, I finally got tired of my father wanting to control every aspect of my life. I wanted to see things with my own eyes, to learn from people that did not think like him, to see the real world. Me and my father fought every day. It felt like hell, honestly.” Taehyung let a quiet, humorless chuckle past his lips. “Until we finally made a deal. How did he like to say? “You don’t gain things, you negotiate them.” And so did I. Taejun finally let me go. For the past six years, I’ve been traveling the world. I’ve been visiting places, learning from different people.”

“This is how Your Majesty met your mentor?” I asked quietly.

“Yes. This is how I met Petrus. My father would never approve it if he knew who was teaching me, but now he couldn’t tell me what to do.”

“And this is why people know you as ‘Vante’”. So many things were getting clear right now, like the fact that I barely knew or remembered anything about him; he has been away. Taehyung nodded.

“I wanted to get close to people, hybrids in special, but if I went to them and introduced myself as the crown prince they would probably kill me or worse. I’m sure you noticed how the common population hates the royal family. Because of that, Vante was born. My disguise was more a safety measure than anything... well, being honest, as I started to help people in these villages, I didn’t want them to know who I was after all. Everything I did as the prince would reflect in my father’s reputation, and I didn’t want to make him seem good at this point.”

“Didn’t your father know what Your Majesty was doing?”

“Not really.” Taehyung said, tilting his head. “I knew he sent people to follow me, but I always managed to escape. Of course, sometimes I had no other choice but come back for official events and such. In the meantime, I was just Vante.”

I watched him in silence for some moments, just the sound of the wind between us. His hair waved softly. “Your Majesty likes being Vante.” It wasn’t a question, for I already knew the answer.

“Being Vante is simple. No luxury, no pretending, not having to impress everyone all the time.” Taehyung sighed deeply. “Unfortunately, I can’t be him anymore from now on.”

I frowned slightly. What did he mean?

“Who do you like the most? Taehyung or Vante?” he asked suddenly, voice playful, making me avoid his gaze, flustered.

“You and him are the same person,” I said sincerely, making Taehyung roll his eyes.

“You know what I mean.”

“But that’s what I see. You and Vante are the same, I don’t see any difference between you. Both are good people that cares for others.”

Taehyung stared at me, a smile slowly growing on his lips. “So, that means you like me.”

My lungs failed.

“I- well-” I stuttered, looking at anything but him, feeling my entire body get hot when he suddenly intertwined his fingers with mine. Why did I get so nervous? Why was my heart beating so fast? He didn’t even say something shocking – he was my master, so it was no surprise that I would like him, right?

But King Taejun used to be my master, and my heart never fluttered when I was around him. Not this way...

Why is that? What does he mean by “like”? “Like” in what sense?

Taehyung laughed loudly. It seems that he was already very comfortable.

“Well, I personally prefer Vante,” he said, looking at our intertwined hands. While his was warm, mine was cold. “Vante is a simple guy. Kim Taehyung... he is complicated. He has many secrets.”

Again, I saw a glimpse of sorrow in his eyes. Beautiful, dark eyes. How could he be so honest, but at the same time so difficult to understand? It felt like staring at the surface of a lake; beautiful at sight, but impossible to know its true depth.

It was scary how I wanted to get into this lake.

“It seems that Your Majesty isn’t afraid of the height anymore,” I pondered after some seconds of silence. Taehyung chuckled.

“No, I’m still frightened. Please, don’t ask me to do this again.” A small smile adorned his lips. “But... you were right. The sight is beautiful.”

I smiled too, focusing in the gorgeous sight in front of us.

Trying to pretend that I didn’t notice how he said that last sentence looking at me, and not at the landscape.

I watched as King Satoshi entered the Throne Room accompanied by his Entourage.

The short man smiled widely as his gaze locked with Taehyung’s, who was approaching as well. Vanaheim’s king has always been a warm person, as far as I remembered; he didn’t change much in appearance, his long black hair the same, as well as his extravagant green attire. He was considerably young, barely fifty years old.

Instead of shaking Taehyung’s hand when they were close enough, King Satoshi hugged my master, patting his back and smiling.

I couldn’t really focus on them because of the other man behind Satoshi – barely a shadow.

Yuta.

Vanaheim’s dragon-guardian stared at me with confused and shocked eyes. However, instead of showing anger the way Hoseok did, Yuta locked gazes with me and nodded respectfully – his way to greet me in silence. Yuta has always been a pondered and calm man after all, the exact opposite of Hoseok.

I knew my brother was probably judging me, though, and yet again I would be forced to give explanations – but not now.

Satoshi put his hands on Taehyung’s shoulders and measured him from head to toe, eyes shining.

“Ah, look at you, Tae. The elves sure have been blessing you. I remember just yesterday you were a skinny brat running around. The man you’ve become!”

Taehyung laughed loudly, and I could hear his laugh was sincere. Satoshi’s choice of words was quite inappropriate, but for a man that was similar to an uncle, it was no problem.

After greeting Taehyung, King Satoshi proceeded to greet the Queen Mother, Seojeon, in one of her rare appearances. The woman was still incredibly beautiful; it seems that the years had no effect on her at all. He then greeted Taehyung’s younger sister, Princes Yeri – just as beautiful as her mother.

“King Satoshi, it is an honor to receive the Minatozaki Royal House in our Kingdom,” Taehyung said when the greetings ended. Satoshi nodded.

“I am excited to begin our negotiations, Taehyung. I’m sure that the bond between our kingdoms will get stronger than ever. We have many issues to discuss, but I don’t want to delay things; you probably already know our main theme.”

Probably nobody noticed it. Nobody knew Taehyung as well as me. He stiffened just slightly for a single moment – too fast for anyone to notice.

When King Satoshi spoke again, I could understand why.

I not only understood, but also felt a foreign, deep and agonizing pain strike my heart like an arrow. Something I shouldn’t be feeling, something that didn’t make any sense. But I felt anyway. As stupid and inappropriate as it is, I felt it.

In that moment, I finally realized: Taehyung wasn’t just a master to me.

And he would never be anything more than this.

Satoshi’s voice sounded lighthearted; however, each word of his echoing in the vast Throne Room just made me feel smaller until I wanted to disappear:

“I came here to talk about your betrothal with my daughter, Princess Sana.”

370 notes · View notes

blue-hazewhite-light · 5 years

Text

LFC Balmung - Ayri Himaa

basics ––––

NAME: Khetayri (Ayri) Himaa

ALIAS: n/a

AGE: late 20s

RACE: Xaela Au Ra

GENDER: Female-presenting

SEXUALITY: Bisexual

MARITAL STATUS: Engaged - Open Relationship

ALIGNMENT: Neutral-evil

BRIEF HISTORY: Born a twin in typical fashion of the Himaa tribe, Ayri and her sister Kazili were raised and trained as a unit, learning a language of their own between one another, conditioned for perfect synchrony both on and off the battlefield. Their central strategy of feigning death to increase shock or ‘change places’ worked masterfully, mostly, until such a battle that Kazili Himaa did not walk away from the scene, did not get up after ‘falling’. Ayri, in a state of shock and unwilling to accept the truth, walked away. Walked away until she couldn’t continue to walk, and slipped into something of an emotional torpor.

The process of this destruction of the self as a pair, the deconstruction of Ayri from the fundamentals of her beliefs, was a silent agony which she now seems far from and well beyond. To date, save for a brief stint under Garlean incarceration, Ayri has established herself in the role of drug dealer, taking advantage of the more addictive curative methods - at a lower cost and easier accessibility than from a true medic, of course - and those who rely on them.

physical appearance ––––

HAIR: Tinted pastel pink with occasionally visible platinum roots, resting naturally curly and bound into elegant pigtails.

EYES: A cool blush tone. The pupil of the left is distorted from damage, resulting in a much darker iris and exaggerated appearance of its limbal ring.

HEIGHT: 4’8

BUILD: Mostly lean, hourglass silhouette

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Slight ridgelike outgrowths of spines along her horns and wrists

COMMON ACCESSORIES: Bladed jewelry at the end of her tail, gold body chains, usually well kept and brightly painted nails.

personal –––-

PROFESSION: Alternative slum pharmacist, spearwoman

HOBBIES: Gambling, people-watching, adrenaline chasing, getting really and truly very high, tarot, crystal (inherently nonmagical) collecting

LANGUAGES: Au Ra old language, Doman, Common, Garlean

RESIDENCE: Semi-transient

BIRTHPLACE: The Azim Steppe

RELIGION: Mostly agnostic theist, not really of interest.

PATRON DEITY: None

FEARS: Being completely alone, being tied down, large and empty spaces, invasions of privacy

relationships –––-

SPOUSE: Engaged to Valerian (kir) Sanguinus (another OC of mine for writing and backstory fodder but I love him ): )

CHILDREN: N/A

PARENTS: Unnamed mother, Unnamed father who died before Ayri and Kazili were born.

SIBLINGS: Kazili Himaa (deceased)

OTHER RELATIVES: N/A

PETS: None

traits –––-

extroverted / introverted / in between

disorganized / organized / in between

close minded / open-minded / in between

calm / anxious / in between

disagreeable / agreeable / in between

cautious / reckless / in between

patient / impatient / in between

outspoken / reserved / in between

leader / follower / in between

empathetic / apathetic / in between

optimistic / pessimistic / in between

traditional / modern / in between

hard-working / lazy / in between

cultured / uncultured / in between

loyal / disloyal / in between

faithful / unfaithful / in between

additional information –––-

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

rp hooks ––– –

Your Weed Man: Ayri seems to know a guy; she can get her hands on damn near anything you’d want for a good high, at an incredible quality and potency. For a price, of course.

Passive Observer: Wherever Ayri goes, she takes plenty of time to give her surroundings - and those within them - an intense ocular patdown. She isn’t particularly subtle about her staring, and frankly doesn’t seem to understand what the big issue might be for some.

Model Prisoner: A deal on the inside and a stint in the prison’s medical facilities seemed to take this once-captive Au Ra from ambivalent thug to star citizen. Though some might have known both sides of her on the inside, this inexplicable change of heart saw her released under oddly unrestrictive probationary conditions.

Big Stick Is Back In Town: On top of being kind of a frigid bitch with a moral compass stored in a magnetic case, Ayri occasionally takes side gigs for clientele of status who might have need of a tiny, dead-eyed lizard with a particularly sizable spear and the seemingly instinctual capacity to wield it with deadly efficacy. Ayri maintains a position of being more to the effect of a personal guard and escort, however, than a mercenary or assassin.

the ooc stuff ––– –

Twenty-something nonbinary edgelord. Roleplay makes me extremely anxious, and I apologize constantly for everything even when it’s best I don’t. I love, love, love, love dark themes and don’t shy away from much so long as the players involved seem to be on the right side of things out of character.

#balmung #ffxiv rp #xaela #benzo lizard

6 notes · View notes

anthony-kate · 7 years

Text

***Nearly 3 weeks into the hiatus and I am missing Magnus and Alec desperately. Matthew Daddario voice: *When is it gonna end?” Siiigh. But well, what better way to spent the hiatus then reading some great Malec fanfics, right? Right. Because I have read a lot of amazing fics incl. discovering some great new authors. And now that autumn is coming.... the perfect time to read more.

Also, I am overwhelmed how many notes the last rec post got and how much you all enjoy(ed) it. So I hope this 5th edition will get a lot of love, too. Again, let me know if you liked this and if I should continue doing this. But now, have fun reading, pumpkins.***

Volume 1

Volume 2

Volume 3

Volume 4

FALL WITHOUT WINGS by @notcrypticbutcoy [ M | 144k | WIP ]

Alec has been told the same stories all his life. He's been taught the same lines, over and over again. Downworlders are reckless, impulsive, demonic. They're not to be trusted.

And Magnus Bane is the epitome of everything evil about Downworlders.

At least, that's what people keep telling him. Alec's not quite so sure anymore.

Or: In which the Nephilim have wings, are taught to loathe Downworlders, and Alec is presented with a conundrum when Magnus Bane saves his life.

HOLDING THE STICK by @baneismyexistence [ M | AU | 80.3k | complete ]

Alec Lightwood has dreamed of hoisting Lord Stanley since he was eight. It's in his blood. He's spent the last five years trying to make that dream a reality, only managing to fall short each time.

Until a scandal leads to a multi-team trade that sends Magnus Bane his way. One of the top performing wingers in the league. An up and coming star.

And the most handsome man Alec has ever met.

He's doomed.

STRANGE LOVE by arandomfan91 [ M | AU | 46.6k | complete ]

Alec is in love with Magnus. Magnus needs Alec to be his fake boyfriend. What could possibly go wrong?

STRANGE LOVE - EXTRAS by arandomfan91 [ T | AU | 13.8k | complete ]

Missing scenes and chapter re-writes from Strange Love, all told from Magnus' POV.

These extras are tied in with the fic Strange Love. You should read that story first before reading this!

FOOLS RUSH IN by @m-aleciseverything [ M | AU | 85.2k | complete ]

Alec, Jace, and Simon go to Vegas for Jace's bachelor party and things get a little bit ridiculous.

Alec wakes up the next morning and...wait a minute, who's that in his bed?

AND THE OSCAR GOES TO... by @lecrit [ E | AU | 21.5k | complete | Stars Aligned #1 ]

Working for Magnus isn’t easy. Magnus is out of control and Alec has to yell more often than not to get him to listen to him. He hates everything formal because it means he has to watch his mouth. Most importantly, Magnus is an incorrigible flirt.

Which would be alright if Alec wasn’t utterly, irremediably, unfathomably in love with him.

IT’S ALWAYS YOUR MOVE by @lecrit [ E | AU | 15.5k | complete | Stars Aligned #2 ]

Maryse Lightwood is fierce, determinate and she is standing right in front of Magnus, on the threshold of his house, the scowl on her face announcing nothing good.

Magnus hasn’t seen her since the Oscars ceremony three days ago. To be fair, he hasn’t really seen anyone, too busy that he had been catching up on lost time with Alec.

Magnus thought he could be tranquil forever after winning an Oscar and finally confessing his feelings to Alec. Magnus was wrong.

WALK OF FAME by @lecrit [ M | AU | 13.5k | complete | Stars Aligned #3 ]

Alec is fairly certain he is the luckiest man in America. On earth. Possibly in the entire universe.

He slowly started to convince himself of the now indisputable fact when Magnus and him started dating a year ago after the ceremony that crowned Magnus as King of the World (or Best Actor, but Alec isn’t always objective when it comes to his boyfriend). A lot happened in a year, and Alec knows eventually the wheel is bound to spin and his luck might dim and vanish but as of now, he still feels like the luckiest man on earth, and he is going to make the most of it for as long as it lasts.

CATCHING THE LOVE BUG by @daddariossmile [ M | AU | 3.5k | complete ]

In which the Lightwood siblings always end up in the hospital, Alec spends a lot of time waiting around, and the charming Dr. Bane is more than a little attractive.

SYMPATHY FOR THE PRINCE by @ketzwrites [ M | AU | 31.9k | complete ]

Prince of Hell Magnus Bane, was tired of his life in Hell. Every day was the same; condemned souls being punished for their wrong doings, demons feasting on the worst humanity had to offer, two or three deals with a few greedy humans. It was dull, uneventful. Boring.

So Magnus packed his bags and moved to New York City. As the owner of the lavishing club Pandemonium at the heart of Manhattan, Magnus enjoyed a life without worries for five years, until the fateful night where a former client was murdered on the streets.

It was then that he met no-nonsense Homicide Detective Alec Lightwood, owner of incorruptible morals and the tightest ass Magnus has ever seen. Earth was fun, after all.

TODAY YOUR BARISTA IS... by @baneandgone [ G | AU | 2.4k | complete ]

alec works in a coffeeshop. one day jace hijacks the chalkboard out front

(aka one of those 'today your barista is' sign aus)

THIGH HOLSTER by @everydayisonfire [ E | PWP | 2.2k | complete ]

Magnus doesn't get distracted by a certain Shadowhunter, wearing a tight thigh holster. Nope. Absolutely not.

ON THE SUBWAY by The_Forgotten_Nobody [ G | AU | 1.4k | complete | On The Subway #1 ]

Confused, Magnus followed Rafael’s line of site to the opposite side of the train where a young man sat, pulling silly faces. However, the moment he realised Magnus was staring his face flushed and he stopped, averting his eyes as if he hadn’t just answered all of Magnus’ prayers. In more ways than one as well because not only had he calmed Raf down but he was gorgeous.

MR LIGHTWOOD, MR BANE by TruePlainHearts [ E | PWP | 2.2k | complete ]

"Lovely to see you, Mr Lightwood."

"And you, Mr Bane. Thank you for taking the time."

*****

The kinky, shameless smut that occurs right after the rest of the clan leaders leave. Magnus and Alec make excellent and creative use of Alec's new office and its expansive mahogany desk... and its sturdy door.

MR. LIGHTWOOD by @nanf1c [ M | 1.2k | complete ]

A ‘no kissing, looking at suggestively or touching’ rule was applied when it came to Magnus and Alec at the downworlder meeting. Magnus respected that, respected his man, and tried his best as soon as he walked through the doors of the institute. But now, back in his loft, with the night fallen and Alec returning through the front door from a demon attack, looking battered and exhausted, Magnus couldn’t help but keep the game going.

YOU HAVE ME by @hufflebee [ G | 664 | complete ]

They stay on the balcony for a while, listening to the sounds of New York at night. Alec noticed the glasses and the discarded pillows when he walked in, but he doesn’t want to break the comfortable silence they’ve fallen into. He looks over at Magnus, and by the angel, he looks beautiful, breathtaking. but the longer Alec watches him, the more he can see the makeup and hair and the clothes for what they really are.

An armour.

PARADISE IN BETWEEN by Teumessian [ E | 7.8k | complete | The Boundless Saga #4 ]

In the months following the loss of the Mortal Cup, anxieties run deep. It's no time for a vacation, and yet... Magnus has had a lot of years to practice the art of persuasion.

WITH MY BODY AND SOUL, I WANT YOU MORE THAN YOU’LL EVER KNOW by liamandzayn [ E | PWP | 4.3k | complete ]

Alec captures the defined line of Magnus’ jaw between eager yet clumsy fingers, tilting his face upwards as they gasp into each other’s mouths, exchanging fevered gusts of breath. Magnus seizes the swollen flesh of Alec’s bottom lip with gentle teeth, nipping gingerly, suckling with avid hunger and Alec’s groan resonates loud and clear throughout the room. By the angel, he wants this man desperately; his need has become a physical ache, pulsating through his nerve endings and coiling strictly around his burning muscles.

BEGIN AGAIN by ReneeWritesx [ not rated | AU | 21k | complete | A Light To Call Home #1 ]

Unpacking sucked. And Magnus had only brought like half of his things. Okay, maybe two-thirds. But whatever, it didn’t matter. What did matter was that Magnus was sweating from carrying boxes, the cottage had no air conditioning, and he was super close to packing everything back up and driving back to New York in about three seconds.

Or the one where heartbreak is a pain in the ass, Magnus is forced to spend the summer in a small cottage in the hopes of finding his passion for design again, and manages to piss off the cute neighbor after only being there for two days.

"The only real pain in life is between hanging on and letting go."

IN THE INSTITUTE by sarahrae5135 [ E | 6.1k | complete ]

Magnus stays at the Institute for the first time.

THE MORNING AFTER by @asexualalexanderlightwood [ not rated | 733 | complete ]

A small little post finale fic for anyone in need of more Malec loveliness

BETTER FOR YOU by @zrdu [ not rated | 9.2k | complete ]

Magnus' and Alec's relationship comes to a sudden halt when Maryse interferes. They both try to cope without each other.

WITH YOU WRAPPED AROUND ME, THE WORLD FEELS PERFECT by @matsdaddario [ E | 3.6k | complete | Lovely Firsts #3 ]

Magnus is still asleep; Alec can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against his own back, and Alec takes the few minutes just to enjoy being wrapped up in Magnus’s arms. He looks down at their hands threaded together, resting against his stomach. He loves the contrast between them; tan and pale, long and lean, deep red nail polish and short, bitten nails. There’s something comforting there too. How different they can be, but how well they fit together. Alec has a moment of feeling like they were made to fit together. It might be stupid, it brings a blush to his cheeks, but a warm feeling settles in his stomach at the thought. He likes that.

ONE DAY by @magnusragnor [ T | 1.3k | complete ]

“Do you -” Alec started, hissing his teeth in pain and looking up at Magnus. “Do you have any more of that free of charge warlock TLC?”

“What are you -?” Magnus asked, before the memory hit him full force and he tried not to laugh, because Alec was hurt, god damn it. But Alec was smiling up at him and his eyes were shining bright full of hope and love, so Magnus leaned down and kissed him.

MORNINGS LIKE THIS by @softmagnusbane [ G | 1.1k | complete ]

Alec feels all his love for the man in his arms bubble up to the surface looking at him like this. Sleep rumpled and peaceful, his hair is a soft mess that Alec almost can’t wait to run his fingers through when Magnus wakes up, his lips so kissable and slightly open. There is nothing better in this world than being able to wake up to this he thinks idly.

PLAYING WITH FIRE by Obsessivecompulsivereadr [ M | 3k | complete ]

Alec’s breath catches nearly every time he looks at Magnus, and it happens even during times they haven’t been on an official date. But tonight is different. Magnus isn’t his sedate and dignified self right now. He’s back to being flirty and relaxed, and he looks so good that Alec can’t stop thinking about touching him.

SO BRIGHT by @lemonoclefox [ G | 17.5k | complete ]

Alec has come out, but that doesn't stop his parents from their continuous attempts to set him up with a nice shadowhunter girl. So, what better way to finally get them off his back, than to say he has a boyfriend? Problem solved. Except they now apparently want to meet this guy, who doesn't exist. Thankfully, Magnus Bane -- who encouraged Alec to come out in the first place, and whose silent crush on Alec is just as bad as Alec's crush on him -- is more than happy to help. Even if the night doesn't end up going entirely as planned.

SLOW ME DOWN FOR A MINUTE by @abloodneed [ E | 7k | complete ]

They stared at each other for a moment, each beat of Magnus’s heart seeming to thicken the air again, pulling them back to the charged space they had fallen into on all of their dates. They’d fallen into this feeling here in the loft, out in the world, so many places where everything suddenly just felt intense and present. They were in this charged space where their bodies were saying one thing, and one thing only.

I want you so badly.

BLUE CHRISTMAS by Hobbit69 [ E | AU | 1.5k | complete | Blue Steels Series #6 ]

Just a quick fic to fill in a Christmas need I have for my Blue Steel Series. Takes place between "Blue Extravagance" and the upcoming "Blue Righteousness." Magnus and Alec "come" together for the first time since Alec's injury and the boys wake up for Christmas morning.

BLUE RIGHTEOUSNESS by Hobbit69 [ E | AU | 41.1k | complete | Blue Steels Series #7 ]

After returning from medical leave, Detective Alexander Lightwood-Bane catches his roughest case up to date. When one of his properties, a club called Kebebasan is attacked by two gunmen, Magnus Lightwood-Bane calls the best cop he knows. During the course of the investigation, Alec discovers that this shooting isn't an isolated incident, but the result of domestic terrorism; a group attacking what they consider to be amoral. Alec and his partner, Jace Herondale have to move quickly to stop this group before it causes wide-spread panic in the city and more loss of life.

LUNCHDATE WITH AN AFTERNOON DEBATE? by eenkhjin [ G | AU | 5.7k | complete]

Magnus Bane goes out to get lunch but comes back with a mission to prove someone wrong. Kind of...

TO LOVE A SHADOWHUNTER by Madalena [ E | 10k | complete | The Peacemaker Chronicles #1 ]

“Are you really going to risk your life for a Shadowhunter?”

Those were some of the last words that Magnus Bane had said to Dot before he stepped through his portal to his lair, protecting only the warlocks. Abandoning the rest of the Shadow World to Valentine and his Circle.

Dot wasn’t sure how long she had been under Valentine’s control, but now as she stood on Magnus’ balcony, hours after Magnus and Clary had portalled away to the Institute, to save both Shadowhunters and Downworlders, she knew something had changed.

Someone had changed him.

OBLIVION by @champagnemagnus [ T | 2.7k | complete ]

Alec stood up, keeping a careful distance and being sure to move slowly as he approached. “Magnus, I am so sorry. For everything you had to go through.”

Magnus’ eyes never moved from the spot on the floor he was staring at. He shook his head slightly, eyebrows furrowed deeply. “That agony rune…” He paused, taking a moment to swallow. His face was drawn in so much pain that Alec had to look away for a moment. He immediately punished himself by digging his fingernails into his palm. It was selfish to worry about his pain. He had certainly inflicted more than enough on Magnus that he had to atone for. “Made me remember things that I spent…centuries trying to forget.”

ONE SHOW ONLY by @gingersnapwolves [ E | AU | 29.4k | complete ]

It's hard to stay in the closet when the guy you had a one-night stand with two nights ago turns out to be your new partner ... but Alec will be damned if he isn't going to give it a try.

THE RED BUTTON by @ketzwrites [ M | AU | 38k | complete ]

After one black out too many, Ragnor and Catarina had enough of Magnus trying to drink himself to an early grave. It was time for an intervention and they had the perfect place in mind: The Institute, the best rehabilitation installation in the New York state.

Only Magnus wasn't exactly asked for his opinion on the matter. And if there is something Magnus doesn't like, is to be forced into something.

Maybe the Head of the Institute, Alec Lightwood, is enough of an argument to chance his mind?

#malec #malec fic #malec fic rec #shadowhunters #malec fanfic #fic rec #fanfic #i think this is the longest fic rec post ever #but well... you had to wait a while for this so #i plan to do another one before christmas maybe?#if you are interested of course so let me know if i should keep doing this #until then... have fun reading #and i hope you enjoy this one too #otp: look what i have waiting for me

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sicheng-blr · 7 years

Text

grocery store baker! sicheng

My first au!! All my future au’s will be in this bullet point format unless I think something will be better off as a scenario. Enjoy!! (p.s: sorry if it seems rusty, i haven’t written a lot since like last year, but i promise i’ll get my touch back)

sicheng was beyond excited when he found a job where he could bake and didn’t have to compete with others that wanted the job too

the plus side was that it was a grocery store that was popular for its bakery and close to his home

when the head baker handed sicheng his nametag, he nearly cried because he was finally doing what he wants

all those years studying law because of his strict parents when he just wanted to bake really came flooding back to him in that moment

not gonna lie most of the staff there are pretty old,, like early 40s to late 50s

so when they saw sicheng they were heart eyes af especially the women,, they just wanted him as a son(-in-law)

on his first day, he was so bubbly and energetic he was saying hi to everyone that passed by the bakery section

some gave him weird looks but he didn’t care because he’s finally !! baking !! for !! a living !!

one day sicheng was kneading the bread and the store wasn’t that busy so he noticed you walked in

honestly, he didn’t pay much attention to you and just went back to kneading the bread

but,,,, then he noticed you kept coming back again,, almost three times a week

and sicheng is like ?? what are they doing here again ?? do they not buy enough food for the month ??

except you do buy enough food, its just that this is your favorite grocery store

all the staff recognize you and know you by name, and vice versa because you’ve gone there since you were little

sicheng once overheard the butcher say,”hello, _____!” while he was placing bread in the glass displays

and he just thought “do they have nothing better to do than visit a grocery store ?? or what ??”

he was just confused tbh

......and a little curious

everyday sicheng became a little bit more giddy to see you walk through the sliding doors and see what they had newly stocked

but then he noticed you never came over to the bakery even once since he was hired

he got a little sad about that, even the other bakers noticed but they didn’t know why

its not your fault you never went to the bakery... you just decided to cut back on pastries, chocolate, and candy when you were seventeen ok so maybe it was your fault

sicheng became hopeless at that point...he hasn’t been able to say a word to you in the 3 months he’s been working there

then the stars finally aligned for him

it was a tuesday when he looked up from decorating a cake that he saw someone looking at the desserts displayed

he set down the frosting and walked over to where they were to help

“good morning! do you need help wi-”

but then you looked up at him and he lost it

“d-do you need...help, or are you,,, lost?”

“umm ?? no, but...do you have dessert platters?”

you were there on a very rare occasion, the only time you bought anything from the bakery was when you were invited to a party

more specifically, forced to go by a friend

this time you had a high school reunion to go to, one filled with people you very much don’t want to see

“we don’t have any, i’m sorry”

sicheng said sorry many times to people before but this time he meant it

you frowned and he took notice in how you pouted just a little

you were about to turn around and leave when-

“but we take custom orders! what would you like in your platter?”

you smiled big at him and he swore his heart flipped a little

“is it possible to make cheesecake, tiramisu, and cookies by friday?”

“sure anything for you”

you didn’t deny to yourself that this baker was cute, his pointed ear made him look like a fairy and so did the way his eyes sparkled naturally

plus,,, he was so excited to be talking to you finally!

“thanks...” you looked at the nametag on his chest,”sicheng, see you friday!”

the name sicheng suddenly sounded like angels singing after you said it

the rest of the day he had a faint smile on his face and complimented everyone who passed by

he highkey got in trouble with the head chef after you left but he didn’t care as long as it was for you

“sicheng, we don’t even do custom orders!”

“well,,,, we do now”

friday couldn’t come sooner for sicheng, he couldn’t wait to see you again

likewise, you couldn’t wait to see him

you spent all friday morning looking through your closet to see what’d be best to wear

when sicheng saw you walk through the entrance, his poor heart couldn’t take it

he physically couldn’t take it; his legs gave out a little

you showed up to the store in a fitted silk baby blue dress, seeing as you were going to the party right after leaving

sicheng rushed to get the platter from the back before you got to the register,,, you didn’t hear it from me but,,,, he slipped on the way from how excited he was

“hello, sicheng...its nice to see you”

both of y’all were blushing so bad and it wasn’t even the first time y’all see each other

“hi, _____”

wait,,,,,

“how do you know my name?”

“oh u-umm,, uhh… you gave it to me for your order”

it was a little awkward tbh, he didn’t know whether to keep talking or just give you the dessert platter already

he just gave you the platter so you can leave and not make him any more flustered than he was lol

“how much is it?”

he thought for a while before saying “you don’t have to pay…it was my pleasure making it for you”

it left you a little shocked,,, this was the first time in your life you ever got something on the house

and it was from someone very cute

thank god you didn’t pay for it, that thing was like $50

“thanks so much sicheng! i’ll pay you back some way for this! see you later then!”

sicheng could only wait for that ‘later’

at the reunion, you only got compliment after compliment on the platter and it gave you butterflies in the stomach

because it would remind you of the baker back at the store, the way he smiled at you, how he looked so handsome in his apron and sleeves rolled up, how cute he was when he had a bit of flour on his cheek and,,, oh shit you almost fell into the pool

the next morning, you went into your trusty store to tell sicheng about all the nice things people said about his platter

of course, he was thrilled when he heard all those compliments, eyes shining even more when you kept talking to him

and you were just trying to take a mental picture of how he was leaning forward, smiling with his cute snaggletooth and all

the other staff were lowkey staring at y’all, seeing how heart eyes y’all were for eachother

they shipped it

“_____, let me make you a special treat… as a thank you for telling me all this when you didn’t have to”

that’s when you knew you’d have to break it to him,, and it already hurt knowing he’d get pouty

“actually,,, i don’t eat...pastries….and stuff”

poor sicheng felt the world stop, in his opinion, this tragedy was worse than romeo and juliet

“you mean... i can’t do what i like….for the person i like?”

it took both sicheng and you a while to realize what he just said

“w-what did you just say?”

“n-nothing,,, oh well look at the time !! my shift is over !! bye !!”

his shift was not over, he just went to the back and sat in the corner, face palming himself for saying that

and boyyyy were the staff shook at the sudden confession

they knew he was shy and all,,,, but they didn’t know he could be so honest,,,, the boy wasn’t even subtle with his confession

and maybe it was the cookie you ate last night when you weren’t supposed to.... but you suddenly felt a sense of confidence wash over you

you didn’t leave the store just yet, taking your time to look for a,,,, certain,,,,, aisle before paying and leaving

at night, sicheng kept reliving that moment and drowning his face in his pillow whenever he remembered what he said

he thought of how stupid he was for excusing himself away when he could’ve had a chance to tell you everything he thought of you

he almost considered calling in sick in the morning, but what if you went to see him ??

sicheng couldn’t stand losing a chance to talk to you no matter how embarrassed he was of yesterday

that morning, you were especially nervous

you arrived at the store, peeking in to see if sicheng was there before going through the sliding doors

with the box in hand, you made your way to him, the path seemed longer than usual

he was in the middle of putting in freshly baked muffins into the displays when he heard the soft thud of a box on the counter next to him

looking up, he made accidental eye contact with you which he wished he hadn’t,,, because now he has muffins on the floor

“oh, do you need help?”

sicheng fumbled with the muffins in his arm,”no, its okay...i’ll just throw these away...”

when he came back from throwing away his muffins, he pointed to the white box in front of you,”what’s that?”

you had forgotten about the box and now you were thinking about how stupid this whole idea was

but still, you opened the lid to reveal to sicheng a wonderfully done cake, frosted white and on top of it,,, a heart

“i might not eat pastries or know how to make them as good as you do, but… i still appreciate what you do… even if it means i can’t come over and buy something for myself...and see you”

sicheng could only smile and tear up a bit from how cute you were, standing there saying the most cheesy thing he’s ever heard,,, although it still made his heart grow by the second

“_____… are you confessing to me right now?”

“...…..maybe…….yes”

he felt so many emotions then and there that all he could do was lean over the counter and hug you

and give you a kiss on the cheek

“how about you go on a date with me… as a way for you to pay back the platter?”

you smiled at him,”of course”

~cue the applause from staff~

on the third date, he invited you to his apartment to watch a movie

you went to the kitchen for some juice but when you opened the fridge,,,,

you saw the cake you made for him in perfect condition and in the same box

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winterballads · 7 years

Text

The Light Inside You Chapter 2: The Garden for @cuteandtwisted <3

Summary: the Evak Middle-earth AU nobody asked for Pairing: Isak/Even Words: 3,940

[READ ON AO3]

I found the perfect garden spot To spread the ashes of my heart All in the hopes that it would grow Rows and rows of forget-me-nots - Mike Hauser

18 years earlier Foreyule, FA 48 Bywater, the Shire When he finds his mother kneeling on the cold floor of their hobbit hole, a piece of paper clutched so tightly in her hands that her knuckles have turned white, Isak knows.

The realisation creeps into his skin, his bones, his veins, spreading in every corner of his body until all the warmth left in him has been quenched in fear colder and sharper than ice.

He’s gone. He’s really gone this time.

As far back as his memory reaches, Isak remembers that he’s witnessed his father threatening to leave them many, many times, shouting in a havoc of harshness and hatred that he couldn’t stand this life anymore, that he needed to get away from his insane wife and the child he’d made the mistake of having with her. Even though Isak’s mind was too young and innocent to understand his father’s words at the time, the scorching fire of disdain burt him and the edge of revulsion cut into his skin. Isak felt and somehow knew what it all meant. And now, Isak thinks, Terbold has finally acted on his long-standing promise. Despite being a coward, he really always was a man of his word.

Overwhelmed by thoughts weighing much too heavily on his shoulders, all Isak can do for a long while is stare at his mother helplessly, at her frail back falling and rising in a succession of sobs which vibrate inside Isak. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do to make it all better and take the pain away.

After a few more moments of petrified silence, Isak approaches his mother, slowly, quietly, as though afraid of frightening an injured animal. Crouching next to her, he starts stroking her back soothingly with his thumb. Up down up down up down up down. When he feels her sobs resonate through his palm and fingers and everywhere inside him, he bites back the whimper threatening to tear itself out of his throat.

Marigold, the hobbit full of light carrying in her heart a love bigger than the world, the hobbit with a melody of happiness always dancing on her lips — what has she become? She’s gone, Isak realises, replaced by an empty shell. Nothing remains but dark despair and a concert of misery echoing in every corner.

“Mamma," Isak murmurs, barely noticing the way his own voice cracks at the word. “Mamma, I’m sorry.” I’m sorry for being a bad son. I’m sorry that my father, your husband, didn’t love us—didn’t love me—enough to stay.

Isak brings his other hand to Marigold’s face and brushes his thumb against her cheek, feeling the cool wetness of her tears on his finger. He shushes his mother absently, barely aware of what he’s doing, until the wrecked whimpers eventually die down and Marigold tears her gaze away from the ground to look into her son’s eyes.

When he takes in the face carved with lines of misery, the haggard eyes ravaged by a storm, Isak feels his own hand freeze on his mother’s cheek in horror. He needs to fight the urge to recoil.

Mamma, what has he done to you?

“Isadorac, my son,” Marigold whispers, her voice feeble like a bird’s broken wings. “It’s not for you to apologise, you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.”

Isak can’t bear the intensity of her gaze still soiled by tears. He looks down, drawing his hands into his lap to start playing absent-mindedly with the coarse and dirty cotton of his shirt. The stone lodged at the bottom of his stomach feels too heavy now for Isak to be able to focus on anything else.

He doesn’t know what to respond, but he knows that he doesn’t believe this mother’s words.

“Mamma,” Isak starts after long seconds of silence, “why did father actually leave? Everybody’s talking about it, you know. Before coming here to check on you, I heard people say... stuff, but I don’t know if any of it’s true.”

A cold finger nudges his chin, making him look up, and Isak’s gaze is met with a sad smile, pale and thin as a shadow.

“What did you hear, baby?”

Isak gulps heavily before answering, not sure how to formulate his thoughts.

“Um. People say he was bewitched. That he left with one of the tall and beautiful women from Bree who sometimes visit the Shire.” Isak takes in a shuddering breath, finding deep within himself the courage to continue. “Berril Bucklebury says he saw father sneak away with a woman like that at dawn, hand in hand and all. Old Berril may be many things, but he’s not a liar, so I figure there must be some truth to what he's saying. Can Men do that, mamma? Can they cast a spell on hobbits and make them leave their family?”

Isak is surprised to hear an edge of desperation in his own voice, something raw and hopeful and almost pleading. Perhaps (perhaps) his father wasn’t entirely himself when he left, a small voice at the back of his head insists. Perhaps someone else made him do it, made him leave the home he’d had all his life without as much as one look back.

Marigold sighs and catches a golden curl of her son’s head between two slightly trembling fingers. By now, the glistening trails of her tears have dried up, crystallising into livid wounds on her cheeks.

“Isak, darling.” Her voice is unbearably gentle, unbearably miserable. “There are many forces in our Middle-earth that are too big and mysterious for me—or any of us, really—to grasp. There’s a wide world full of unknown dangers right past the borders of our beloved Shire. But in spite of that, I’m certain of one thing: whatever made your father leave, it wasn’t something or someone else. It was him. It was his decision.”

Although he’s not sure he understands exactly what his mother means, Isak instinctively knows she’s right, and that realisation makes exhaustion settle all over his heart. In that instant, he wants nothing more than lie down and wake up in another place, in another time, anywhere where everything doesn’t hurt.

“It’s me who’s sorry,” Marigold continues after a bit, her hand now pulling softly at Isak’s hair just like she does every night when putting him to bed. “It’s me who should be there for you, and here you are comforting me.” The reassuring caress of her hand, although it doesn’t quite manage to relax Isak this time, makes his eyes flutter close and a small sigh of content escape his lips. “Still a child, and yet so responsible and mature. So grown up. This life has robbed you of your childhood. I’m sorry, baby.”

Isak’s eyes immediately snap back open when he hears the regret and the guilt in his mother’s voice. He can bear his father leaving. He can bear his life being shattered into splinters. But if there’s one thing he cannot bear right now, it’s the thought of Marigold feeling sad not only about his father, but also about Isak. I never want to cause you pain, mamma. I only want to make you smile and laugh that beautiful laugh of yours.

For the first time since Terbold sneaked away like a thief and took almost everything with him, Isak suddenly feels completely steady, completely grounded. Neither his hands nor his voice tremble when he places his right palm on his mother’s huge belly and lets the truth inside his chest make its way into the world.

“It’s okay, mamma. I don’t care. I love you.”

I’ll be a good son. I won’t ever abandon you, like father did. I’ll always be there for you. For both of you.

Isak feels something—a foot, a hand, or maybe a head?—nudge his hand through his mother’s thick dress, and the trace of a smile tugs at his lips.

No matter what happens, he’s always going to have his mother and his little sister. Nothing will ever take that away from him.

Present time Forelithe, FA 64 Bywater, the Shire

Isak breathes out a deep sigh of satisfaction. Pearls of sweat are budding along his temples, every muscle of his body is screaming from overexertion — and his mind, his mind is peacefully blank, floating in a contended haze which nothing (not even the ever-present intrusive thoughts Isak knows like the back of his hand) can dissipate. Wiping his damp forehead with the back of his arm, he leans back to admire the result of two hours’ hard work.

The small garden he’s been keeping behind the family home is doing well, he thinks. Very well. At the back, following the curve of Bywater Road stretching just outside the Valleybarrens’ patch of land, are seventeen kinds of flowers aligned in neat rows: some glittering like so many golden bells, others delicate and butterfly-shaped, others silver as a handful of stars scattered across the dark earth. Then come eight more rows, this time seemingly barren but bearing the promise of a rainbow of textures and colours waiting to come out.

Isak has calculated when and where the greenery in his garden should be planted to mature under the very best conditions, and he knows its growth is going to follow his predictions with unfailing accuracy, just like it always has ever since he started dedicating himself to gardening some years ago. Everything else in his life may be slipping between his fingers in an eluding wisp of smoke, but Isak can at least count on the small, controlled haven under his care to follow a predetermined course and never let him down — if the climate of the Shire allows it, that is, which it thankfully always does.

With a satisfied nod to himself, Isak bends over and collects two enormous baskets he has filled with all manners of herbs and flowers, humming tunelessly as he feels their weight on his forearms. He’s going to have a lot of work to do at home, and the prospect makes a thrill of joy run through him.

One moment, he’s about to turn around and go inside his home to get started on the methodical process of categorising, labelling, dissecting, cutting and boiling which has become a reassuring routine, a rock keeping him grounded. The next, a familiar head of dark hair (cut much shorter than the tousled and curly mane typical of hobbits) catches his eye, making the quiet content flowing through Isak moments ago evaporate in a heated daze. Isak quickly averts his gaze, as though looking away from the girl is somehow going to make her disappear — but he glimpses a flash of two huge bright eyes and of an all-teeth smile thrown in his direction, and he realises with a feeling akin to dread that it’s too late. The hobbit lass has seen him.

She quickly circles the fence surrounding the Valleybarrens’ garden, her steps energetic and confident, until she’s standing in front of Isak and an obnoxious sweet perfume (smelling like a terribly mismatched bouquet of flowers) assails his nostrils. He involuntarily scrunches up his nose in distaste, managing in the last moment to cover up the movement with a slight sniff and a back-armed rub on his nose.

“Hi!” The girl’s high-pitched voice disturbs the peaceful calm Isak has been basking in all morning, and he has to make a conscious effort not to frown at her at the offensive sound.

“Um, hi Emilda,” Isak responds in the most friendly tone he can muster. His voice sounds suspiciously strained to his own ears. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much! I was just on my way to the market and saw you, so I thought I should drop by and say hi. We haven’t seen each other in ages, what have you been up to?” She gives him a searching look at that, and Isak feels irritation gnaw at his chest as he hears a trace of accusation beneath her light tone of voice.

“Eh, I don’t know, just… planting stuff, I guess. As usual.”

At that, Emilda’s laugh resonates loudly in the crisp morning air, making Isak flinch.

“Oh, yeah! So exciting! How’s that going?”

“Well, it’s going great, actually.” Isak decides to ignore the ball of panic lodged in his throat in favour of focusing on Emilda’s question instead. “The mellys are doing even better than I would’ve expected, I’m soon going to be able to make them into balm. And I’ve collected a lot of Pipe-weed this morning, so I’m quite happy about that.”

“Pipe-weed? You goin’ to smoke a bunch, you little rebel?” Emilda almost shouts in what Isak assumes is meant to be a joke.

“No,” he answers levelly, happy to note that his voice sounds reasonably collected despite the groan he can feel bubbling its way up his throat. “It’s purely for medicinal purposes. That’s why I grow most of the flowers, plants and herbs I have in this garden.” Emilda doesn’t need to know that Isak has enjoyed the quiet haze of pipe smoking on quite a few solitary nights, letting the heady smoke envelop him in a semblance of peace before dissipating into the cold starry sky.

“Oh, right.” Emilda looks down meekly at her hairy feet. She seems at a loss for words for a moment, but then she seems to quickly regain her confidence and looks up at Isak with purpose, craning her neck to fix him with a stare. The look she gives him feels intrusive, almost violating, and the forcefulness of it makes Isak shift his weight and gulp forcibly. As he gapes at Emilda, distaste and anxiety coil up inside him, two all-too-familiar snakes squeezing and making a wave of nausea rise up his throat.

Silently, her eyes never letting Isak’s go, Emilda reaches inside one of the baskets Isak is holding. When she holds up a fragrant sun-shaped flower—eirien, Isak thinks dully—and places it deftly behind his left ear, an icy shiver runs down Isak’s spine. The flower, touched by Emilda and now resting against his damp hair, seems to suck in the brightness of the morning sun until Isak can’t remember, can’t notice its presence anymore.

“Here,” the girl whispers, standing on the tip of her toes to lean into his ear as though trying to breathe some mysterious powers into the flower she put there. Isak’s head is spinning round and round and round. No sound can make it past his mouth.

“By the way, Isak... I’ve told you. You can call me Emma.”

Isak is desperately trying to push past the painful grip he can feel throttling him, internally shouting at himself to say anything (anything) to make her voice and her touch and her gaze on him disappear, when—

“Isak, darling! There you are!”

His mother is walking towards them. A curious and questioning expression colours her face, as though she’s surprised to find her son spending time in their garden despite the fact that he’s done so every day for the past three years or so — but Isak sees something earnest dancing in her eyes as she approaches, and he instinctively guesses that her interrupting Emilda and him is no accident. There are rarely any accidents with his mother.

“Good morning, Emilda,” Marigold says cheerily when she’s reached them. Isak notes that the smile twisting her lips doesn’t reach her eyes, and that the skin of her face (except for the many wrinkles of age and tiredness already carved there) remains obstinately smooth. Emilda may not know this, Isak thinks — but when his mother is genuinely happy, small delicate branches grow at the corners of her eyes, making her face crinkle and come alive.

“Good morning, Mrs. Valleybarren!” Emilda answers in a voice exasperatingly close to a squeal. Isak resists the urge to roll his eyes, annoyed by the way Emilda always smiles a bit too bright and always talks a bit too loudly whenever his mother is around. There’s a ghost of nervousness hovering beneath Emilda’s almost aggressive cheerfulness, he can feel it. They’ve never talked about it, but Isak knows that the girl—like everybody else in the Shire—is all too aware of Marigold’s reputation and of the gossip following her every movement like a cloud of flies drawn to honey. The thought makes Isak’s stomach churn up.

“I was just going to discuss some family matters with Isak, if you don’t mind,” Marigold continues. Her eyes flutter briefly to Isak as if to emphasise her words, and the smile she flashes Emilda is more tense than ever.

“Oh.” Emilda finally seems to pick up on the tension cracking in the air all around them. “Yes, of course! I’ll leave you to it.” She gulps and grins a bit, this time with noticeable discomfort. Isak feels the corners of his own mouth twitch as the raging tempest inside his chest comes to a halt and is replaced by relief rushing through him in a tide. She’s leaving now, finally. She’s leaving.

After one last exchange of forced rictuses, Emilda offers Isak a weak “See you around” and waves a limp hand at him, turning to leave the garden and get back onto the road. Isak, overwhelmed by the weight of Emilda’s presence being lifted from his shoulders, can’t find in himself the energy to respond with anything more than a mumble and a vague gesture of his fingers.

He’s now free — if only for a short blissful moment, until the next time Emilda corners him and tries to engage him yet again. She’s been constant in her efforts ever since they met at Eglantine Took’s birthday party some months ago, and Isak suspects her tenacity and naivety will probably keep fueling her attempts as a flame steadily burning against the wind. Yet, although the phantom of Emilda’s bright smile and sparkling eyes often keeps him awake through long sleepless nights, Isak can’t bring himself to care. Not in that instant. He concentrates instead on the grounding presence of the nature all around him: the earth underneath the coarse sole of his feet, the wind stroking his cheeks gently, the eirien flower tickling the baby skin behind his ear...

Isak is brought back from his reverie by a humming sound. He looks up, a bit disoriented, and his eyes immediately meet his mother’s — not hard and calculating anymore, but soft like a sweet, fleeting kiss on the cheek. For the thousandth time, Isak reflects that his sister Leanora has inherited their kindness, their beauty. Oh, those eyes feel like home. Isak desperately wishes he shared the same vibrant seas of green with the two persons he loves most in the world, but a small nagging voice at the back of his head takes pleasure in reminding him that he doesn’t. No. His eyes are ever-changing, treacherous: sometimes fresh spring leaves, sometimes melancholy ponds frozen over by the breath of winter. His eyes are his father’s. They’re nothing more than another reminder of what he’s lost and what he’s never had. And so Isak can never look his own reflection in the eye whenever a puddle or a glass mirror whispers to him look, look, this is who you are. He can’t bear to look.

“Isak.” His mother interrupts his train of thought, her mellow voice still barely above a hum. “What was Emilda talking to you about?” Isak feels a small ball of warmth form in his chest at the realisation that Marigold seems to know he wasn’t talking with Emilda but was rather being talked to.

“Um,” he starts with a cough. “She was just asking me what I’ve been up to. Nothing special, really.” He shrugs and hopes (quite futilely, he knows) that his mother won’t pick up on the strained edge slicing through his voice like a knife.

Of course, she does.

Her eyes on him turn even softer, and the calming balm of her gaze is soon followed by a cool hand settling on his warm arm, the freshness of it seeping through his pores and making him hum absently in his turn. Isak looks down for a short moment, smiling a bit at the sight of Marigold’s small pale hand lying on his slightly muscular and sun-kissed arm. A snow-bird resting on a field of golden wheat, he thinks.

Then, Isak looks up again and wills himself to change the topic of conversation.

“You said you wanted to tell me about some family matters?” he asks. He’s still unsure whether there was any truth in the statement, or whether it was an entirely fabricated lie his mother came up with for the sole purpose of rescuing him.

“Yes!” Marigold’s face lights up in recognition. “Yes, I did. I wanted to tell you that your grandfather has sent you a letter from Minas Tirith. It just arrived this morning.”

She holds up something to him, and Isak realises for the first time that his mother has been holding an envelope in her hand the whole time. Isak takes the white object gratefully, a smile tugging at his lips as he turns it around and recognises his grandfather’s seal (a mallorn leaf impressed on dark blue wax). The envelope feels warm and heavy in his hand, and Isak is already looking forward to reading and rereading it before going to sleep, like he always does whenever receiving one of the rare and long-awaited letters from his grandfather.

Those nights are always particularly magical. Bundled up in two or three woolen blankets with Lea sleeping soundly against his side, the darkness around them softened by the flickering flame of a candle and the far-off twinkling of stars shining through the window, Isak feels content seep into him as he lets his grandfather’s words lull him to sleep. On those nights, Isak’s dreams are filled with bright colours, with the exhilarating glimpse of far-away places and the echoes of warm laughter bringing him back to evenings spent reading stories by the fire; and he wakes up drenched in a longing so piercing it makes his bones ache.

When Isak once again snaps back to reality, he finds his mother looking at him with a tender and contemplative smile. Her hand on Isak’s arm has started stroking the skin and the soft blond hair gently, as though trying to provide some sort of comfort, and Isak doesn’t know what to say. What does he need to be comforted for?

“Come inside, baby,” she tells him, nodding her head towards their small hobbit hole a short distance behind her.

“Mamma, I’m not a baby anymore!” Isak retorts in a whiny voice. “I’m going to be of age in thirteen days, remember?” He tries to sound irritated (or at least petulant), but the chuckle threatening to escape his lips and the slight blush creeping up his cheeks betray him. Marigold just laughs heartily in response, reaching up to pluck the flower still sitting on Isak’s ear. Looking at the silky petals glittering under the morning light like the sun and the stars melted together, Isak is suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to give the flower to his little sister and watch her turn into a giggling mess as he tucks it into her thick, long curls.

His mother’s hand curled around his wrist, Isak follows inside with a heart light as a feather.

[READ EXPLANATORY NOTES ON AO3]

#char: isak valtersen #even bech næsheim #evak #skam #theskamfam #skam fic #writing: isak valtersen #writing: even bech næsheim #writing: isak x even #writing: skam

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