#like ill survive but today i had a moment of Point Of No Return and im nervous about it.

[transgaysex]

i am so stressed btw

[gradstudentdrone]

Grief Diaries, Day One: The Enormity of Grief

Hello Tumblr, I am back.

When I started this blog, I was 30 (!). I was a grad student - hence the name: grad student drone; I was trying to finish my dissertation; I wasn't yet married to MOTL and thoughts of children were completely out of my radar. I blogged fairly regularly, then intermittently, and then rarely. The last post I made was in October, 2017. At that point, I was a year plus into a tenure-track job, I had one kid and was knee-deep in my first year of therapy, after suffering from a debilitating bout of postpartum depression. I thought I'd blog again, but always had something else to do: whether it was hustling to get tenure, realizing that the hustle was misplaced and that the rules were rigged and that academic meritocracy was a myth (all of which I speak about with awesome guests in my podcast, Academic Aunties), trying to survive a pandemic, and - quite honestly - trying to find an identity outside academia. The years since were also full of lots of love -- MOTL and I now have two kids! -- but also a lot of heartbreak, including pregnancy losses and the loss of loved ones.

And it is loss that brings me again to this blog. You see, exactly a month ago today, on June 30, 2024, I lost my dad, Leonides Fulgueras Tungohan, who was 73 years old.

Here he is, at 28, posing with a cig, with shaggy black hair, a precursor to today's shaggy, K-pop hair styles:

The loss was unexpected: my dad had health conditions, including gout and diabetes, but he wasn't terminally ill. Our last conversation was me, kissing his cheek, and telling him "I love you" and asking that he "drive safe" after he and my mom drove away from our house following my kids' dance recitals. My last sighting of my dad was when he was walking behind my mom while my mom and I Face-Timed, wincing in pain as he tried to walk to the couch. "Your dad is having another gout flare-up," my mom explained. I didn't think anything of it. When my dad peered into my mom's computer screen and saw that my kid, SG, was there, he brightened up, as he always did when he saw my kids, and said hi.

To say that these final moments haunt me is to make a huge fucking understatement. In fact, it would be no exaggeration to say that the last month has been a blur. It has been a month of complete and utter heartbreak.

I vacillate between two modes: debilitating, heart-wrenching, absolute sadness or run-of-the-mill sadness. When I feel the former, the enormity of my loss sometimes hits me, so hard, that I have to grip something -- a ledge, a chair, a table -- to keep from falling. When I feel the latter, I'm only kinda sad because I get caught up in day-to-day tasks, such as putting my kids to bed or doing the laundry. In these everyday mundane moments, my sadness is like a low hum -- it's there, in the background, but not so painful that it becomes debilitating.

Whether it's the former or the latter, there isn't a second in the days since June 30 that I am not sharply, keenly, viscerally aware that my dad is no longer here. It takes monumental effort to tamp it all down because when I allow myself to feel the full range of my grief, I collapse. And I can't collapse, not when I still have to live, not when there's so much shit to do, because what is most cruel about death is that with death comes a lot of work. Work that tends to fall on women. Work that tends to fall on eldest daughters. Work that is layered on top of the other work that we've got to still do, from paid work to social reproductive work.

One of my lowest moments in the last week was needing to find space to grieve, by myself, without interruption. And so I bought a ticket to watch a movie - Fly Me to the Moon - by myself. Sitting at the very back, watching couples and friends in front of me murmur and laugh among themselves, I could finally, in the dark, just be.

Having a space to just be is also why I am returning to this blog because it provides me a space to process and find a bit of a reprieve from all sorts of expectations. It's also a way for me to remember my dad, to think of him, to place my memories of who he is in written form. This is also going to be an experiment for me because I want to see just how the next year will be for me. A friend, S, who also lost her dad a few years ago, told me that grief is all-consuming in the beginning but that eventually, you make peace with it and that grief will almost be like a friend, who is always just there, whose presence you just get used to. So my commitment, on day one of my grief diaries, is to track whether I will ever make peace with my grief. Will grief be a friend who is always just there? Because right now, grief is (still) all-consuming and doesn't seem to want to give me a break. Grief isn't a friend yet. Grief and I haven't made peace yet. I have complicated feelings about grief: I want grief to just leave me alone, to stop suffocating me in its pervasiveness, but I also want grief not to ever leave. Because I fear that if grief leaves, does that mean my dad and my memories of him does too?

Along the way, I might write about work and my efforts to truly pivot away from prioritizing work over everything: if there is anything I now know, with absolute clarity, is that life is fucking short, and we all need to prioritize what matters. I might also write about my kids as they deal with the loss of their grandpa, about how my family and I reconfigure our lives to see what happens next. I will also write about the (gendered) work that accompanies death and dying and how the business of death is so grossly capitalist. Hey, I'm a researcher! I can't turn that part of my brain off!

We will see how this year goes. And if you're also working through your own grief, and want to process things with me, maybe we can do it together?

[d-trashbandicoot]

The last 4 years : a retrospection (part 1)

I guess looking back it wasn’t the running away that saved me, it was the time living the easiest way available. All these years growing up imagining the way the real world would be. Unaware that my mind was skewed, biased, against me. There was a simple reason for the way I felt. In between; the bouts of youthful despair, in fear of there being nothing to live for in the future, and the moments of overzealous joy, where the world was so bright and full of hope.

Perhaps it was this reason one would always return to Star Trek TNG and Avatar TLA, in the darkest of times. To remember that fleeting feeling of hope. To grasp at the last threads of love and humanity.

In my bipolar support group the other day I brought up the idea that if there was ever a magical cure all of a sudden for bipolar, I didn’t think I would take it. I’ve ridden this bull this long and boy when the adrenaline hits, sure life is sweet. Granted at the lowest it is normal to question whether one's ride will end violently this time under the hooves of the bull.

The topic shifted onwards and we ended up on the truth that this illness, in part, cranks the emotional feelings and reactions up to eleven. Our emotions hit us so strongly, we often feel more than our "healthy" peers. And whilst the downs may be horrific the ups are emotions many could only access with by intoxication.

Alas, it is my circumstance of being a middle class Nepo-baby that has not only kept me out of institutions but dragged me along to get where I am today.

That paragraph makes me sick. But I guess that's where my illness festers these days. The only valid target of the darkness. Capitalism and its proprietors. Those who put profit above life.

At this point I have repeated the last 4 years to so many as a quick snapshot of movement. I have also written plenty on the past around the time of my diagnosis. But I never really looked at the 3 years of healing that I did. At the time it did not feel like healing, but hindsight also makes for pleasant surprises. At the time it was about survival, just finding a way out from that godforsaken tax haven.

But it gave me what I needed. Stability, schedule and money. All I had to do was go to work each day, keep my head down, get through the day and then I'm home. On the couch with the family smoking weed whilst watching Tv. Except half the time it would be football. That made it very easy to let the THC work its way and process my past, present and future. In the presence of my own family I have spoken thousands of words to myself. My change was happening right in front of them, in my mind, and then never even knew. After all, it's not something a mother should hear of her own child. At least not till I could say I truly know myself. Not till I knew where I began and where the affliction ended.

Now, many times these introspections were triggered by the theme of the film or show we were watching, or the news. The news was the worst. And for the latter year'n'half I had to work in an office with bloomberg or some other 24/7 financial news channel.

I would say this was also spurred on by the DMT I brewed and drank back at Uni. The cannabis had started to bring up the elements of the trip and each night I was filled with I get it now moment. At least that is how it feels now after another year and 5 months of moping around the mainland.

Realistically it wasn't every night, no...

surely it couldn't have been...

Whatever it was, it worked and kept me going. When the family dog died I felt the weighted reason to stay, on that island, go. A deciding factor, the thing that tipped the scale was removed and now the scales swung to the other side. So I decided to leave..

Consciously, this time. Mulled it over for some time, although my mind was set. I went to Bristol for a weekend and told my parents when I got back, that this is my plan. We talked, they had reservations and it felt like a battle. In the end I felt as if I had offended them, betrayed them in a certain way. More so my father, I think my mother understood. Her prime concern was for my welfare, his was more focused on financial stability. After 2 more months I left.

[aetherose]

@the-lytenye-realms sent: REMINDED (with Zero!)

Glimpses of the Past

Some time before Zero became an Intoner...

It wouldn't be the first time Zero has been stolen from. She'd already experienced getting all her money taken by bandits when she'd initially escaped from that damned brothel. And even now, she always had to guard anything she had vigilantly, lest it get taken from her. But she'd slacked out of exhaustion today; her illness was beginning to catch up with her, leaving her ever more tired.

But that didn't mean she could just give up. Out of spite, she continued onward, refusing to die despite the way she deep down desired an end to this endless, brutal fight for survival.

What made today's incident of getting stolen from unique was the perpetrator. A girl, not too much younger than Zero, clothed in scanty and rather worn out lingerie. Zero remembers briefly seeing her in the city not long ago, returning to some brothel or whatever, hair a mess and evidently probably coming back from some unpleasant client.

Zero had deduced her a prostitute pretty fast, which soon led to the conclusion she'd now come to. This girl had escaped her forced employment, and now she was stealing from Zero. Unfortunately, Zero woke fast and always slept with her sword by her side. Zero thus had quickly kicked her to the ground when she'd seen her clutching some of her food in her hands, her foot on her back whilst Zero pointed her blade to the girl's head as she laid on her stomach.

"What do you think you're doing?" Zero questioned, and the girl looked at her in horror. "I-I...p-please, d-don't hurt me! I-I just- I was hungry, ok?!" The girl struggled as she released Zero's food, in hopes it'd persuade her to let her go. Unfortunately, Zero's foot only pushed her down harder, and the girl was starting to realize she might not be getting out of this alive. "P-please! I'll do anything- I-I only just managed to escape, p-please don't kill me-! Please!"

Zero's eyes narrowed, as she got confirmation of her theory as to why this girl was here and listened to her beg for her life. "I-it took me s-so long, I-I had to kill everyone so th-they w-wouldn't chase me down, I-I had to w-work so hard for this- p-please let me-" Zero's blade sunk into the girl's head unceremoniously, as she looked down apathetically at the now dead girl.

"Your mistake was stealing from a light sleeper." She knew the girl couldn't hear her now, and yet she still felt like saying it. She's not sure why. She pulls her blade from the girl's head as she continued staring at the girl as the wound Zero had made on her bled out.

This could've been Zero, in some other world, if she weren't careful. On so many occasions, she could've gotten herself killed and died a death this pathetic. But she got lucky. Or was she actually the unlucky one, continuing to live this hellish life? Was killing this girl more of a mercy? Not like Zero really did it for any reason, let alone mercy. She didn't even think about it in the moment. She just got tired of hearing the begging, and did what came most naturally to end it; killing the origin of it.

Zero would never beg for her life like that if it came down to it. Though she wouldn't thank the perpetrator either, but she's also not sure she'd curse them. Not like there'll be one, in frankness; she knows her illness will probably take her before anyone else does. But Zero still finds herself with complicated feelings as she steps away from the girl's corpse.

She won't become like this girl, that's for sure. Even if she knows her death is probably already assured, she'd certainly not die because of some stupid mistake like this. She's already gotten farther, with how she's survived years longer on her own than this girl has. She won't become like her.

'I'll be better than that', is Zero's final thought as she goes back to sleep.

[jjwho]

Hi! I saw your post about the exchange thingy and before I answer I would like advice for 2024 :) my initials are JCH

What is actually the truth?

There are so many truths. Lately, I've realized one truth is that nothing in this world is exempt from the pain that life brings. Humans, animals, even plants and trees. I used to think when I was younger “why me?” when bad things happened but I never once thought, “everyone goes through these situations in some form or another”. Just when I think something “bad” or “unfortunate” happens to me, there’s something else that follows that puts it in perspective. For example; not long ago I broke up with my long term boyfriend and was obviously upset. Then, a few days later I found out my grandmother’s lung cancer came back and she is going to die soon, then poof its like my break up didn’t even matter anymore. I’m not saying this as a “poor me” type of thing, it’s actually comforting to know that I’m not alone and that everyone else in the world can/will experience heartache, loss, grief, loneliness, mental illness, etc. If other people can get through it, why can’t I? How could I ever be self centered enough to think “why me?”. Why NOT me? And unfortunate/bad situations are so relative. I’m thankful I got the chance to even have had a long term relationship whether it was mostly positive or not, I loved. I was lucky enough to love and be loved at one point. I could’ve never seen today, I could’ve died as a child like some people do. I could be in the middle of a war zone right now just trying to survive. Of course that doesn’t diminish my struggles but doesn’t it? My “pain” is someone else’s glory. Another truth is that, “the probability of being alive right now is the same as if you handed out 2 million dice, each dice with one trillion sides… then rolled those 2 million dice and had them all land on 439,505,270,846”. That’s your chance of being alive today right now in this moment in time. Yes, humans (and every other living thing)  have struggles and those struggles are real but if you zoom out, even having those struggles are lucky. I’m not speaking on the people’s experience in Israel or Ukraine or anything drastic and horrible like that because then you’d have to think if being alive is even worth it, I mean, life like that is horrible and inhumane and even worse than I can put into words. I’m talking about me, right now, in America, educated, and yeah I struggle, but in the grand scheme of things… I am so lucky. 

Hiii thank you so much for participating, wow that's a lot so I tried to summarize that so basically your truth is "Instead of looking at situations in such a negative way think of other people and realize that your situations is the better option while looking at others situations as theirs might be worse"

I see.

Here's your advices for 2024:

"One life, one chance, a world that doesn't care"

"The bee gets honey taken away and nothing given back"

I see in 2024 you need tk do what you are feeling called to do whether it's a project or voicing out your opinions or beliefs, because really you only live once in this lifetime and it's a world that doesn't care, you don't want to die with regrets right likeee

And I see you need to stop letting people take advantage of you, stealing your work or coping your work with nothing in return, you have to put an end to that, because who would even listen to your truth if you can't even stand up for yourself

You've got this girl!!

[lotties-ashwagandha]

Hey 👋🏾 i was wondering if you could write a rhaenyra x fem!reader where reader is like melisandre a red priestess or is studying to be (shes young around rhaenyra’s age) but she has powers like wanda/scarlet witch but only her mentors know. she’s there for when rhaenyra is proclaimed the heir to the iron throne and they immediately connect!

- 🦕

omg this is such a cool request I love it ,, i combined it with a request where reader is a mage that left to study alchemy 5 years prior to meeting Rhaenyra again!

-

BLACK MOONS IN THOSE EYES OF HERS

pairing: rhaenyra targaryen x redpriestess!reader

word count: 1016

notes and warnings: ok my mental vision is that the reader is a red priestess ancestor of melisandre 👀 even tho that has no relevance to the plot.. anyway title from “sister of the moon” by stevie nicks. Flashbacks in italics

taglist (send me a message to be added or taken off!!): @paulsonsratched @mayfair-fleur @thedeconstructionist @goodeday2u @traumatisedfangirl @cordeliass

You listened as the church bell chimed above the Red Keep. It taunted you, mocking your greatest fears and greatest prides.

Today you would see her again, as if for the first time — perhaps in a way it would be for the first time, for that day she would be reborn, and over the last five years you had died a thousand times.

You had not seen Rhaenyra since you had left so long ago. Your powers had become too strong to stay, too strong for King’s Landing, and to keep a power such as yours among the defenseless royal family was to indirectly challenge the strength of the king himself.

You stepped into your heels — like the rest of your outfit, they were of a deep crimson. Rubies adorned your fingers, ruby necklaces stacked upon each other around your neck. You had made a point to wear the finest jewels you had squired during your travels.

A knock at the door startled you — it was time to go downstairs.

It was time, once more, to meet the very person that never left your thoughts.

—

The door closed quietly behind her, and all at once you were alone in the council chamber with the queen.

The queen stalked towards you, powerful in her approach yet bearing an air of peace. You held no prediction of what she was to say, if you were to be charged for a crime, though you knew very well that you had committed no crime to be charged for.

“Thank you,” she started sincerely, “for returning. You have done me a great service.”

You nodded, unsure of what you were to say.

“Soon, I will die.”

At this you glanced up, meeting her eyes — such a statement had taken you utterly by surprise. “Are you ill, my queen?”

A soft smile took hold of her features. Though she was not reminiscent, and she bore no joy, she had made her peace with what was to come. “No, not yet. I do not presume I will survive the duration of my pregnancy… something feels different, the way the baby is positioned feels different. Perhaps it is a sign from the gods. In any case, my absence will leave Rhaenyra in a frenzy, and she will be reliant upon you.”

“What are you asking of me?” You asked quietly. You could feel wisps of power surging in your hands in your agitation. You dared not glance down, for you feared that you would see the crimson glow of magic dancing upon your fingertips.

The queen stepped forward once more. The two of you were mere inches from one another. “I am asking you,” she said, articulating every syllable, “to protect my daughter in the case of my death. No matter the cost, you must always be at her side. You are the most powerful priestess the seven kingdoms have ever seen, and Rhaenyra will need you more than you know.”

You could hardly form words. “I will do my very best.”

“No, I need more than that.”

“I will protect her with my life.”

And after a moment, the queen smiled, backing away.

Again, you were alone.

—

Surrounded by the red priestesses you had been training with for close to six years, you were led to the gathering hall of the Red Keep.

The doors were thrown open before you — any moment you would see her, and perhaps you would meet her eyes for the first time again.

Everything could change.

Everything could be exactly how it was — no, nothing would ever be how it had been, too much had changed.

The night you had left the Red Keep all those years ago, you had never said goodbye.

There she was, standing at the foot of her throne. Her name roared through the hall in the voice of the king, and though the sound if his booming voice filled your ears, you could hear nothing he was saying.

All you could focus on was her. The way her eyes glimmered in the pale light coming in through the window, how much older she’d seemed since you had last been in her presence.

Power radiated off of her — she knew of her standing.

You felt a great reminiscence and at the very same moment a great shock. In Rhaenyra you could see the girl she used to be, and yet in her you could see the newness of the young woman she had become.

Her eyes scanned the room.

All at once, her gaze met yours.

—

After the ceremony, she sought you out in the crowd of noblemen and families tied to the Targaryens. When she approached, you pretended not to see her, unaware of where you were to place your gaze.

“No one told me you were back,” she said calmly, leaning against a pillar next to you.

“Surprise,” you said quietly.

“I recall you telling me before you left that not a single mage in King’s Landing was worth your time.”

“A lot has changed since I left.”

“Indeed,” she smirked, glancing at the Iron Throne. After a moment, she took your arm. “Come with me out to the gardens.”

You let her lead you to the gardens where the two of you were finally alone. The sun was nowhere to be found, and the atmosphere promised rain.

“I was angry with you for a long while after you left,” she whispered. She still held your arm.

“Are you still?”

“No.”

“Why?” You asked, mildly surprised.

“Your gaze is too much of a paradise to turn away.”

You suppressed a smile. “Be careful,” you teased, “I might curse you if you keep this up.”

Rhaenyra smiled. “I have full confidence that you would never.”

“Perhaps not.”

“Don’t make any promises, it’ll take all the fun out of this.”

“Out of what?”

“Out of asking if I can take you riding over King’s Landing on Syrax with me tomorrow,” she said, fiddling with a loose piece of her white blonde hair.

“That sounds nice… but keep in mind, I don’t make any promises.”

[ah0rmone]

dazai osamu x fem! reader

warnings: nsfw, minors, dni! dubcon if you squint because the reader finds dazai annoying but attractive, non-consensual touching (at first), enemies/rivals to fuck buddies I guess?, fingering, vaginal penetration.

there are literally two self-defence techniques from here and here

"Why it has to be you?" you grumbled looking at the person who stood in front of you.

"Oh, who else would you like to see as your teacher? Kunikida-kun who's doing everything according to instructions, even fighting? Ranpo-kun who won't lift a finger unless it's a murder case? Or Tanizaki-kun who's always followed by Naomi-chan?"

The obnoxious man in front of you was called Osamu Dazai and, to be fair, you'd actually prefer any other agency member over him. Sure, he definitely had combat experience and, probably, wasn't that bad at teaching, given that Atsushi was still following him. But something about him was off and you didn't like it. Nor that you had any choice, Dazai was there for a reason and that reason was Fukuzawa's order.

"Whatever," you sighed. "Can we get to it already?"

Today was the day when you were supposed to learn some self-defence techniques. Your ability wasn't really of a combat type, so you never participated in fights but it didn't mean that you had a zero possibility of running into problems. It was your own request to be taught how to protect yourself.

However, you didn't feel quite confident at all. You genuinely hated conflicts and tended to avoid people, so all of this was a somewhat essential but still itchy experience. Your sporty shorts and a skintight top wasn't helping the situation either. Especially, since a person with who you were going to get quite close physically was a rather attractive young man. You and Dazai weren't that close, just colleagues who barely communicated. For you he was just as attractive as he was annoying - you wouldn't mind having a fling with him but nothing more. Maybe it was the way he carried himself: overly cheerful, loud and noisy. Or maybe it was the things he was hiding: his true mischievous, manipulative personality.

Taking a deep breath you reminded yourself that it was your idea, something that your survival depended on and that you just had to get over it.

"Usually you're not the one who fights, y/n-chan. So what are we doing here?" Dazai asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

His eyes were gleaming with a vicious sparkle. Your power imbalance was uncomfortable to you. You shrugged, the feeling that he was a big cat and you were his meal strongly sat in your guts.

"I'm here to learn how to defend myself. Like some easy techniques. I'm not very strong, keep it in mind," you reminded with a well-controlled flat voice but some notes of irritation would have been apparent even to the densest person.

Osamu didn't answer, instead, he let his fake smile turn into a smirk. For a moment the room fell into silence and you could swear that your heart was beating too loud. Both of you just stared at each other for some seconds until the smile returned on Dazai's lips and the man joyfully clapped.

"Okay, gotcha! First of all," he took a step closer. "The most important thing in fighting is a stable stance. Stand like this," he put the left leg forward and motioned you to follow him.

Hesitantly you mirrored his stance, the feeling of embarrassment washing over you. It wasn't even the physical activity that you hated but the way Dazai was gazing at you. Predatory eyes were gliding over your skin like he was analysing your tiniest movements. Like he was about to pounce.

Just as you anticipated, once you've finished copying him, Osamu clicked his tongue and stood up.

"No, y/n-chan, you're doing it wrong."

You were about to argue but Dazai was already behind you. Suddenly painfully aware of the warmth of his body you tried to move from him but he was quick to put a hand on your hip.

"Let me help you," his hot breath ran over the shell of your ear making you flinch a little.

While you were contemplating whether you should allow him to be that close, Dazai had already brushed his palm down your leg. Now he was standing next to you, your bodies touching.

"There," he encouraged, moving your leg a little further by the back of your knee. His other hand was still placed on your hip and such a position was taking away any personal space you had before.

"Thanks," you muttered, feeling the light smell of his cologne.

"Now you're standing rather steady, aren't you?" he beamed with his hand still on your leg.

"Ah, yeah," you muttered, grabbing him by the wrist and pushing it off yourself then taking a step back. "Guess, we can move to the actual stuff now."

"Y/n-chan!" Dazai exclaimed. "The stance is very important, I didn't show it for fun!"

You saw the man's lips curl into a pout but either than that he didn't display any sign of irritation by you pushing him away. Keeping that in mind you decided that even though he might not have any ill intentions you should stay on guard.

Something dropped behind the door and as you inverted your gaze to the sound you felt your hair being grabbed.

"What," you didn't even have the chance to end the question instantly being pushed to the wall.

Your colleague's right hand was holding firmly your hair, the other one gripping your waist. You tried to push back, but to no avail - his whole body was pushing you to the wall.

"Dazai," you growled.

"Too bad, y/n-chan," he cooed. "How can you protect yourself when you have such a short attention span? Look at you - one move and you're helpless."

The sting of resentment piercing through your heart encouraged you to grumble through the teeth:

"I told you I'm weak."

"And stupid apparently," he gibbed.

"Listen," you tried to free yourself but instead just shook your hips clumsily. "If you came here just to insult me, let's end it, I'll ask Fukuzawa-san to send someone else," voice full with venom, you wanted to be as far from Dazai as possible but instead felt with dread as your hips bucked into his. You jolted forward fighting for the tiniest bit of space.

If Dazai noticed, he didn't show it as there was no reaction whatsoever. However, your little touch wasn't the only thing he ignored:

"Let me instead show you how to deflect it," he proposed, paying no heed to your words.

He backed up and you got a chance to glance at him with unhidden irritation. He met your gaze with a cheesy smile like he wasn't a person degrading you a couple of seconds ago. However, giving it a little bit more thought you exhaled and nodded. After all, you should've picked up something from this lesson, not just the revelation that Dazai was a total dick and you wouldn't want him to be near you ever again.

You moved from the wall and this time he gripped your hair slowly.

"What you want to do now is to grab my hand by both of yours, then stand back to the stance I showed you earlier, turn underneath the arm, so that you twist it and when the person lets go, just bolt. Got it?"

You hummed in acknowledgement. Perhaps it wasn't that difficult. Perhaps, at the end of the day, the lesson would be fruitful.

"Try it then," he prompted and then tugged at your hair lightly.

Following his instructions, you grabbed his hand and as you were about to go underneath his arm, he spun you. His arm was firmly holding your throat.

"No, y/n-chan, I've told you your stance was wrong," he whined. "Let me show you again."

"What just happened?" you asked confusedly but he already was spreading your legs.

Osamu didn't answer, too busy putting you in the right stance. And you tried your best to concentrate on how your legs were placed instead of his fingers brushing over your ass a couple of times, once getting a little bit too close to your clothed vagina.

"Just like this," he said and his hand slid up from your knee to your waist getting under the top a little.

From your point of view, the skinship was completely irrelevant but you decided to keep your sharky comments to yourself. For now, you were going to follow his instructions and maybe you could avoid the conflict.

Maybe not.

This time around when you were trying to deflect his arm, once again he outpowered you. You cursed as he said with disappointment in his voice (you were pretty sure it was the fake one, he was enjoying it, that bastard):

"You're too slow, y/n-chan. Do you think attackers would just stand there and watch as you crawl your way out of their grip as a turtle in slow-mo?"

"Dazai, I'd appreciate it if you-"

"Again," he cut you harshly, puppeting you around like you were nothing but a doll.

His attitude towards you was so demoralizing you were fighting the urge to end it here and there. Losing all the motivation and looking exhausted, you tried to go through the motion again but Dazai wasn't having it.

"Hm, y/n-chan, kinda feels like you're not trying hard enough. Should I give you a motivation boost?" he exclaimed cheerfully but before you could say that he should go fuck himself he had already pushed you to the wall. Again.

You were expecting harsh words pouring from his mouth, but instead, it was the kisses as he roughly pulled your hair baring your neck for him. The hot tongue travelled from your shoulder to the globe of your ear, prompting you to jolt. Once again you attempted to push him away but could barely move. His left hand was pinning your wrist and his right one was painfully tagging at your hair, cranking your head to the side.

"Dazai," you wanted to let him know that you understood his intentions but he needed to stop when a not so gentle bite quickly shut you up.

He was licking and nipping leaving hickeys at your poor neck. You were squirming and whirling under his touch not giving up yet, so he thrust his hips into yours. There was no way you could keep any sounds in, so a whiny moan escaped your lips. You felt Dazai stopping, a satisfied smirk on his lips, then without saying a word, he continued torturing your sensitive neck. Two things were clear to you: a strong lust was taking over your body which meant that you were slowly losing yourself and that Dazai had just started playing with you, there were more to come.

Dazai. Dazai! Realising who was the man behind you, you tried to gain back control. Osamu was just being a bully, whywere you letting him see you in such a state? He certainly didn't deserve nor your moans, nor your hips grinding his.

You were thinking this but it took everything in you to not just give in to his touch. While you were having an internal battle, Dazai pulled away with a loud pop.

"Five."

"Five what?" you mewled weakly.

"There are five hickeys on your neck," Dazai murmured. "You look so good, all red and moaning. When you can't even do anything. You've been definitely enjoying it, sure you still want to continue learning self-defence techniques?"

You widened your eyes at his words.

"Excuse me?!" you exploded. "What the hell are you implying?!"

With all force, you shoved him in the side with an elbow. Dazai hissed and even though the attack was fairly weak he let go.

"I mean, no kink-shaming," he put hands in the air surrendering.

"What's your problem?!"

It was hard for you to overcome your desire of slapping him but no way in hell you were staying in one room with him for another second. You bolted but Dazai was quicker, catching your hand.

"Where're you going? For a moment there I thought you didn't agree and wanted to continue," he quipped. "Come on, that was just one technique."

"Dazai, let me go," you growled yanking your hand free. "I've had enough of you today, I'm leaving."

You had already turned to leave when he pulled you to the ground. You snorted in frustration, your legs fiercely kicking but the lack of strategy played against you and there you were - trapped under him. Osamu was sitting between your legs with his arms pinning yours to the ground.

You felt unbearably hot and weak, your cunt throbbing against his groin. His face was hanging right above yours, so close you could feel his breath. Unintentionally your eyes focused on his lips then you looked up. Only now you noticed how lustful his gaze was. He clearly was a winner today and he was about to enjoy his prize. As you licked your lips, your recognised your mistake - now your eagerness was more than obvious.

"I'm just parched," you faltered but it sounded pathetic even to you.

"I'm sure you are," Osamu whispered, sitting back. "One more technique and I'll let you go." His fingers gripped your thighs.

Since his weight was off you now, you felt kind of cold. Not knowing where to place your arms, you were about to put them next to your sides when Dazai commanded you to keep them still.

That position was too sexy for your liking - arms are placed next to your head, legs spread. All of it without his control felt like you were offering yourself to him. Like you were submitting. The man was clearly savouring it because his gaze was so intense, in the end, you even had to avert yours.

Dazai clearly didn't like it, tapping your left thigh:

"Look at me, y/n-chan, how else are you supposed to learn?"

You slowly turned back, embarrassed as your eyes darted all over him until they abruptly stopped at his crotch. There was a visible boner in his pants. When Osamu followed your gaze and loudly chuckled you felt your cheeks grow hot and desire growing stronger.

"Concentrate, y/n-chan," Dazai said amusingly but the only thing you could concentrate on was the wetness between your legs. You feared it might start to be visible through your shorts.

"Look, if someone got you into this position," Osamu continued like both of you didn't want the same thing and that thing was to fuck. "You have to keep your arms straight and put them on your shoulders, like this," he gently took your hands and placed them as he instructed. "Then you should put your leg on my hip," he tried to do it for you once again but your leg was wobbly. All the strength you had was wasted on keeping your arms straight.

Dazai sighed theatrically but he couldn't keep a vicious sparkle in his eyes.

"Y/n-chan," he whinged. "You're such a bad student. Weak. Stupid," his fingers were slowly stroking your thigh. "Having a short attention span. Don't you think that you should have concentrated on learning some stuff instead of thinking about my cock?" With this question his arm groped your ass, pulling you closer.

He gripped your hips and you let out a moan. Now you weren't trying to hold back. You were already a loser, might as well enjoy it. Being a tease he was, Dazai wasn't ready to give you everything right then and there but you were having none of it. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him closer by his collarbone. Osamu certainly wasn't ready for such a force so he confusingly complied.

"Call me stupid one more time and I'm leaving," you warned him, a confident smirk playing on your lips.

Dazai's face quickly changed from surprised to a perverse one. He dropped down on you, pinning you with his whole body and slammed his hips into yours. As you moaned he caressed your face, lovingly brushing your hair, and then whispered:

"I'm gonna break you, pretty doll."

With one swift motion, he put your wrists in one hand pinning it above your head, his tongue running over your lips then dragging you into a deep kiss. As you two were hungrily kissing each other you felt his fingers crawling under your waistband. You jolted, an instinct of placing your hand over his acting up but he was still holding you firmly. He ran one finger over your cunt but you were already shaking, silently begging for more.

"Dazai," you moaned desperately asking him to get down to business.

"You're so wet, y/n-chan," he licked your earlobe making you writhe. "I wish I teased you a little bit more," he started to kiss your jaw getting lower and lower. "I said that I'd break you but it seems you're already at your limit," he chortled, helping you to take your top and bra off.

"You look so beautiful," he murmured once you were almost fully naked in front of him.

Suddenly his gaze turned soft and you felt even more aroused than you before. Gladly the man wasn't planning on wasting any time as he started to lick, nip and bite one of your nipples, playing with his fingers with another. Moaning lewdly and rutting your hips you put your hand into his hair, curling soft strands in your fingers.

When he finished playing with your tits, he wanted to go further down, to place kisses on your lower stomach, but you decided to get back at him. Placing your straight hands on his shoulders, you put a leg on his thigh just as he instructed and squirmed out of his grip.

"You talk about me but look at yourself," you shoved a knee between his thighs, pushing it at his boner. "You were hard even before I started to feel something else besides irritation."

Now it was Osamu whose breath hitched. You were savouring your little win when he looked back at you with a dangerous grin. That was when you realised you fucked up. He quickly grabbed your leg and turned you over on the stomach. Laying down on you, he harshly seized your hair and hissed:

"A+ for learning the technique, but your attitude towards you teacher," he took off your shorts with pants nearly ripping them. "Needs some correction."

That was when the sound of a loud slap broke the silence of the room. You jolted, a gasp leaving your lips. You tried to crawl from him but his grip on your hair was strong.

"Come on, y/n-chan, it was just one slap. Don't you think you deserve it?" The hand that hit you was stroking your bruised ass cheek.

"It fucking hurt," you spit.

"Was it?" Dazai chuckled. "Say that you're sorry."

"For what?" you raged but another hit was your answer.

"Dazai, stop," you sobbed.

"Wrong," he retorted slapping your ass again. "Plus, if you don't like it why are you leaking so much?"

You embarrassingly bit a lip at his remark.

"A little bit of masochistic, are you?" Dazai noted. "Well, if you insist, I can keep on going."

You knew that both of you were barely holding it, so you decided to submit. Just this once.

"I'm sorry!" You squealed after another hit.

"Good girl," Osamu placed a soft kiss on your back still not letting go of your hair. "Now it's time for a treat."

And with that, he finally pushed the first finger into you. Since you were so wet there was a little pool under you, Dazai successfully pushed another finger shortly after. You quivered and jerked your hips begging him to move. This time around your colleague decided not to tease you.

As his fingers were pumping in and out of you, you were trying to push your head down to steady yourself but Dazai didn't let go. You were completely at his will.

"'m close," you mewled, your eyes rolling back.

Dazai hummed in acknowledgement and withdrew his hand. You groaned offendedly but heard the sound of a condom wrapper being ripped and then felt something else rubbing at your entrance.

Finally, Osamu positioned himself behind you and pushed inside, your pussy stretching obediently. The fullness made you gasp pervertedly. As he started moving your mind went completely blank. The only thing that existed for you at that moment was Dazai and his cock inside of you. He let go of your hair, one hand now was holding your hips and another one was giving attention to your clit.

You had no idea how he was still holding on but once your sensitive bud got stimulated you quickly come undone.

"Once more," Dazai panted while moving and playing with your clit simultaneously.

Even though you were tired, you had actually felt desire growing again. Osamu was just way too good for you to resist. You thought that the only thing he was chasing was his high, but he didn't cum until you orgasmed again denying himself every time he got too close. That's why when you cummed for the second time you did it toghether.

He rolled off you, but you couldn't move even a finger, for a moment you've gone completely numb. Your chest was going up and down with heavy breaths, your heart was racing. None of you spoke because you didn't know what to talk about. Especially, since you, personally, felt way too embarrassed to admit that you had just cummed two times because of an annoying Dazai Osamu.

"Looks like we ended in time!" Dazai chirped after some time and you looked at the clock realising that you spent here one hour. Just like it was promised.

"Wish I had actually learned something though," you remarked lazily, trying to pull on your shorts back. You just had to make it to the shower room and then wear your casual clothes. However, your pants were completely ruined.

"Well, if you think that you need another one, just let me know," you looked back at Dazai and his smirk told you that he wasn't meaning the self-defence lessons. You felt your cheeks grow hot again.

"Yeah, sure," you muttered, awkwardly leaving the training room.

From now on you intended on avoiding Dazai whenever it's possible.

Little did you know he had other plans.

[writing-on-the-wahl]

What Are The Odds Part 5

(Finally)

So fun story I wrote a continuation MONTHS ago but then realized I needed more to happen before that scene…. So i wrote this… PART 5 🤗

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

—————

The knock sounded at the door several hours after Hero had shut herself in the guest bedroom. She’d tried to fall back asleep, but their conversation and her childish flight from the room had kept her from slipping into a peaceful rest.

“What?” The word was harsh and sharp. Apparently it hadn’t been long enough to let her anger dissipate.

“Make a list of things you want my sidekick to pick up from your apartment.”

Hero’s heart sank at the unspoken message: you’re going to be here for a while.

Her back slid down the door as she sank to the ground, running the odds of surviving a jump out the penthouse window.

0%

Shocker.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she pressed her hands against them, hard.

If only she hadn’t asked Villain to kidnap her.

If only she hadn’t gone to the gala.

If only she hadn’t stumbled across those files.

If only, if only....

But the only odds she could see were in the future. There was no point looking back.

She ran the odds of Villain killing her today.

7%

Not bad.

She ran the odds of him catching her if she tried to escape today.

96%

Not great.

Hero sighed and pushed off the floor to find a pen and paper.

She had a list to make.

—————

Hero shifted from foot to foot in the entry of the Villain’s penthouse apartment as Sidekick gave Villain all the updates on the campaign and how many points Politician had lost in the polls thus far due to his association with and donations from Billionaire. Villain was leaning against the kitchen doorframe, a satisfied smirk growing with each bit of news. She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes kept flitting to her.

She’d avoided speaking to Villain all day, hiding in her room and ignoring his frequent attempts to lure her out with the promise of food and company.

Unnerved by the attention, Hero focused on the bag still clutched in Sidekick’s hand. Her own hands were uncomfortably empty as she stood there, unsure if she was supposed to be overhearing the conversation.

As Sidekick switched to discussing the declining quality of Politician’s speeches, Hero checked the odds of Politician winning, then couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. Serve him right.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she ran the odds a certain golden-eyed villain was looking at her.

Yep.

Her heart fluttered for the briefest moment before she remembered why she was here. The smile fell from her face.

Hero shifted backwards, wondering if she should just return to her room and come back for the bag later.

Villain caught the movement and lifted a hand to cut off Sidekick’s breathless spiel. “Thank you, Sidekick. We can continue this in the morning.”

She nodded in understanding as she looked between Villain and Hero before extending the strap of the bag towards Hero. Hero slid the strap of the duffle onto her shoulder, shifting under its weight while Sidekick assured Villain that no one had seen her sneak into the apartment. Hero wasn’t sure how anyone could not see her in her six-inch stilettos and bright pink pencil skirt, but she kept that to herself.

Thanking Sidekick, she began to turn back down the hall that led to her room.

“Why the shampoo?”

Hero froze, the blood draining from her face at Sidekick’s query. She’d made sure to specify on her list that Sidekick bring her drugstore brand shampoo and conditioner.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Villain looking on with raised eyebrows as she mumbled something about liking the way it smelled. Heart racing, she excused herself to take a shower.

She placed her bag on the bathroom counter and pulled out her vanilla-scented shampoo, pretending not to notice expensive salon-brand shampoo in the guest bathroom.

Sometime later, she cracked open the bedroom door, her rumbling stomach relieved to find it unlocked. She slipped down the dark hall in socked feet, passing the the living room, where the half open door spilled the colorful lights from the TV into the hallway.

She kept her eye on the living room as she turned into the doorway of the kitchen.

Where she promptly collided with Villain.

Hero stumbled back against the doorframe, grasping the edge of the wood as her heart raced.

“Running away?”

The low voice sent a shiver down her spine, and her eyes shot up to where Villain’s face hovered mere inches from hers. One hand rested on the doorframe above her, trapping her in.

“No! I was just going to the kitchen.” She glanced beyond him towards the granite countertops, mahogany table, and her least favorite chair.

Villain was looking down at her with an inscrutable expression on his face.

Hero dropped her head, cheeks burning with shame as she remembered all the times Villain had knocked on her door today, offering food, sending Sidekick for her clothes…

He was unexpectedly considerate.

And she’d given him the cold shoulder all day.

She wasn’t angry anymore. She just felt hollow.

In truth, she hadn’t really been angry; she’d been afraid. Politician had made it very clear what would happen if she revealed what she’d stumbled upon. But it was easier to be angry than afraid.

“I’m sorry I was so angry,” she whispered, studying her fuzzy blue socks. It was the best she could do.

“It’s okay.” Warm fingers softly tilted her chin up. “I promised not to press you for answers and then I did. I’m sorry.”

His face was sincere, his voice regretful. Warmth spread through her.

There were questions she wanted to ask, odds she knew she should run. But all she could think about was the way his hand slipped from her chin to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Vanilla.”

“I- what??” Hero’s brain struggled to make sense of Villain’s quiet comment because somehow he was standing even closer than before.

“Your shampoo.” He fingered a strand of her long hair. “It’s nice.”

Her stomach was a menagerie of butterflies as he continued to twirl her hair between his fingertips.

She drew in a sharp breath as his smoldering eyes met hers.

His handsome features softened. “Hero…” the quiet murmur faded as his gaze moved down to her lips. His other hand slid up her shoulders and into her hair, gently cradling her head as he slanted his mouth down towards hers.

Hero leaned forward, and her eyes fluttered closed as the distance between them shrank.

A cold rush of air greeted her as Villain abruptly shifted away, his hands falling to his sides.

His voice was flat as he gestured to the kitchen. “Dinner is on a plate in the fridge.”

Then he strode past her, his bedroom door shutting with a deafening click in the silence he left behind.

It was a long time before Hero was able to drag herself to the fridge and collect the perfectly arranged plate of food.

Taglist:

@im-a-wonderling @shieldmaiden-of-gondor @watercolorfreckles @distance-does-not-matter @onestopheroxvillain @lolafaiy @chaoticgoodandi @1becky1 @tobeornottobeateacher @himynameisorla @superherosweet @brekker-by-brekkerr @crazytwentythrees @great-day-today @sunflower1000 @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @selectivegeekwithstandards @chibicelloking @trantolette @sapphiques @jinpanman @genesissane @wish1bone1 @amongtheonedaisy @distractedlydistracted @kitsunesakii @glitterythief @jinx1365 @cherrychewingbrat @in-patient-princess

✨ Special thanks to @im-a-wonderling and @shieldmaiden-of-gondor for reading/editing ✨

[hongism]

the little things - c.san

↣ pairing: san x reader; poly ot8 x reader ↣ genre: sfw, fluff, slight angst, fantasy au, witch ateez au ↣ wc: 3.3k ↣ summary: one of your favorite things to do is look at the stars with san ↣ warnings: none !

“You’re out rather early.”

You don’t turn towards the source of the voice; just hearing him speak is enough of a clue for you to know exactly who it is. Although, even if he hadn’t spoken, you’re sure you would have known from the flutter of wings that resounded before his arrival.

“The stars are prettiest right before dawn breaks,” you sigh, hugging your arms a bit tighter around your knees. Your new companion moves forward and comes to a stop beside you. He doesn’t sit down quite yet; for a while, he merely stands at your side and stares up at the same sky hanging above your heads. The time is roughly four o’clock in the morning — a late night for you and an early morning for San — but your words hold true. The glimmering stars are tucked behind fluffy and luscious clouds that seem to herald coming rain, and they shine against a midnight blue background that seems infinitely deep.

San sinks down to sit beside you at last, tossing his legs over the lip of the stone wall you’re perched on, and he sways his legs in rhythm with an unknown melody. You squeeze your knees as you press your cheek to one of them, enough to have a clear view of San’s pretty side profile against a landscape of green pine trees and shining stars.

“I thought you were out here to look at the stars,” San whispers. He glances at you out the corner of his eye. There’s no malice in his speech, just a hint of teasing, and you can’t keep your lips from quirking into a smile.

“I’m looking at you instead.”

“I should be the one looking at you, little star.” San turns his chin to face you, and his dimples flash as he grins back through the hazy moonlit night. “Our precious star,” he murmurs before reaching a hand out to trace over your forehead, slipping down to your temple then to your cheek and dragging the pads of his fingers over your skin in an unknown pattern.

“Why are you up so early?”

“Waiting for Hongjoong,” San says through a sigh. His hand retracts as quickly as it made contact, and you can’t pretend to be oblivious as to why. Things are always… harsh for San when Hongjoong is gone. It’s much worse when it’s a job like Hongjoong’s current one where the witch has to be gone for weeks at a time. Then San becomes quite volatile and hard to deal with — it only makes sense when a familiar is separate from his master for so long. Seonghwa tries to do damage control every time, tries to use techniques that normally help his own familiar Yeosang calm down, but they never work for San. Hongjoong is the only person and thing that can quell the anxieties and worries and stress that flow through San’s veins in times like these. And seeing as they are a bonded pair, it makes the connection of sharing emotional states weaker. They can’t share emotions this far apart, and that weighs heavily on San’s shoulders after being so used to sharing his heart in such a way for so long. Even if Hongjoong has a tendency to cut San off from feeling the brunt of his negative emotions, there’s still a lingering knowledge that the other is right there, just within grasp.

Not now, however.

San has gone three long weeks without even a breath of a whisper from Hongjoong.

And tonight (this morning? Today? Whatever time it may be) the witch is supposed to return. San’s nerves must be getting to him if he’s out this early because usually he would curl up in Hongjoong’s bed and await the witch there, presenting himself like a neatly wrapped present for the other to unravel with warm kisses and soft touches.

San clenches his fingers blindly around the lip of the wall.

“Tell me a story?” You inquire out of the blue. Your eyes shift to look up at the sky again. San huffs out a weak laugh.

“What kind?”

“Hm, how you and Hongjoong met?”

A risky choice, maybe, but you know how near and dear that tale is to San’s heart, and how much comfort it brings him in simply thinking of it. So it is also a very wise choice on your behalf. San’s lips twitch into the shadow of a smile.

“You’ve heard it so many times already…”

“I’ll give you something in return,” you coo, reaching out to pinch the skin around San’s elbow. He yelps like a kicked dog and offers up a deep pout that has you ready to tease him further.

“Seven kisses.”

“Seven?” You echo. Confusion slips into your tone. You can’t recall any significance to the number seven, nor can you remember whether it’s supposed to have special meaning.

“One for each time I’ve told you this story,” San murmurs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. You scowl at the faint sensation as a laugh nearly escapes you, but you manage to bite it back enough to smile again.

“I always forgot how good a crow’s memory is.”

“Ravens remember well too, little star.”

You poke your tongue out between your lips in his direction, and San merely laughs at your expression before shifting closer to you. He loops a hand around one of yours, pulling it away from the leg you have propped up on the rock wall, then he loops his fingers through yours.

“Several hundred winters ago, this land we live in now held very different values and laws. The people were cruel and brash, only using their fists and crude weapons to handle gathering food and protecting their women and children. No one imagined there was any other way of doing things — the people knew nothing of what gentle prowess magic could offer.” San glances over at you, drawing a laugh from your lips when he makes eye contact with you. You shake your head ever so slightly.

“I didn’t mean for you to give me the version that’s in books and legends…”

San dares to giggle at that, and a moment later, he’s shifting his position so that he can rest his head against your thigh and look up at the stars like that. You have to push your other leg down to accommodate the shift, and once San is comfortably staring up at the sky with you, he begins speaking again.

“I was alone. It wasn’t something new; I was used to it at that point. Ravens don’t have the longest lifespan, and I was still a young familiar at the time. I had no owner or master. My mother’s master left our nest after she passed, leaving me with two sisters who were sick and close to death. They were too ill to shift to their human forms, so I couldn’t bring them to an apothecary or village. Ravens are seen as bad omens after all; had I brought them to a town, they would have been killed on the spot. I spent some time going between our nest and the nearest village, stealing food and medicine where I could because I couldn’t afford it. I worked some too, little odd jobs here and there, but it was a lot of delivery work. Made it easy to steal thankfully. Then… well, one day, I got too bold and tried pickpocketing a high-ranking guardsman. He was some lieutenant or something like that, I don’t remember. Too many years have passed since then. But I got caught trying to lift some coin off him in a bar, and he grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out to the streets. He was planning on killing me right then and there with no trial, but some short little witch came stalking up without a care in the world and knocked the guard on his ass. He was going on and on about how rude it is to grab random people off the street like that.”

“Of course he would,” you murmur, a bit of fondness slipping into your tone. “Don’t let him catch you calling him short though.”

“Eh, he’ll survive. In any case, when the guard tried explaining that I was trying to pickpocket him, this witch extended a hand to me and asked if I needed help. I naturally said no because I didn’t think I could trust him, then took off running. I went back to my nest in the hopes of finding my sisters and telling them to get out of the area, yet when I got there, they were already gone. It had been nearly two years since my mother passed, so they were well enough to do things on their own at that point, but they’d never up and left like that without warning. I couldn’t do anything but stay and wait for their return. We’d gathered some food and supplies, so I was able to live off of it for several months before needing to depart for more again. The entire time, not once did my sisters return. They just… disappeared into thin air. I waited every day, wondered when they would come back, and some nights I would stay awake all night flying around the area in search of them.”

“That part always breaks my heart,” you whisper. Stretching a hand down, you drag your fingers along the curve of San’s cheekbones then his jaws, torn away from the stars as you look at the familiar.

“Why? Had it not happened, I wouldn’t be here.”

“I know but…”

“But Hongjoong found me,” San continues through a smile. You huff but let him finish the story, pointedly ignoring the curling grin he sends your way. “After a few months, I started noticing magical residue near my nest. And sure enough, that little witch from before was setting up camp nearby. I did nothing at first, watched him from afar for a while, then I got brave enough to try to lift a few things from his camp. That turned out to be quite the mistake because he caught me within three seconds of setting foot into that camp. And yet… instead of threatening to kill me or harming me, the little witch simply asked if I was alone. ”Are you alone? Do you have anyone with you? A master? I feel your magical energy yet it doesn’t seem normal. You must be a familiar. Where is your master?“ When I said I had no master and was on my own, the little witch was… hm, I would say he was both confused and concerned. Said it was no good for a familiar to go without a master. Without one, I would die within a few years. He suggested that I hurry along with finding one, and I explained I had absolutely no one else in my life.”

“And after that?”

San hums to himself a bit, bringing his hands up above his head as he stares at the night sky. A delicate little smile graces his pretty lips and squeezes his dimples out, but he doesn’t speak any other words for quite some time. The next voice you hear doesn’t even belong to him.

“After that, I invited San to spend some time in my care and work an honest job for me before going on his way to finding a master.”

Hongjoong.

You twist your neck towards the source of the voice, finding the witch standing a little ways away from the wall you and San are currently seated on, and he grins through the moonlit night at you. San jolts upwards at the sound of his master. The smile that splits his lips is so broad and heartwarming that it feels too intimate to look at, even for you who shares in their love for one another. It’s different for them, and you know that, even if it’s just a different strain of the same love, it’s different nonetheless. San hops off the wall in one swift move, closing the distance between his and Hongjoong’s bodies within seconds.

“As it turns out, we were…we did quite well together. And thus, here we are,” Hongjoong says as he lets San press his nose into the curve of his neck. “I’m sorry I was gone so long. Had to make a few extra stops along the way to gather some supplies. How was he?” Hongjoong directs the words to you, watching with careful yet loving eyes as you pull yourself down from the wall as well and step closer to him and San. The familiar will be like this for a while; unmoving and unresponsive as he soaks in Hongjoong’s presence again and drowns himself in the sensation of having all those feelings doubled once more. Hongjoong will try to ease the burden as much as he can for both their sake, and you’ll do what you do best: taking care of both of them when it gets to be too overwhelming. While Seonghwa and Yeosang (who don’t go a long time without each other anyway) don’t have to deal with this type of ordeal, Hongjoong and San always do. Hongjoong thinks it has something to do with how frequent his trips are, or perhaps the lingering sensation of separation anxiety that San suffers from given his past. Either way, it makes their reunions that much more emotionally taxing and intense. Even you, who has not a drop of magical ability in your body, can feel the sheer power radiating off them both right in this moment.

“You came home at the right time. He was getting antsy,” you murmur back, reaching up to comb your fingers through the long hair at the base of San’s scalp.

“Next time I’ll leave you all with a bit more of a safety net.”

“Or you could come back sooner.”

Hongjoong nearly rolls his eyes, and you catch the way he stops himself just beforehand. The annoyance in his features is nothing serious, only something because he’s heard such words a hundred times over.

“No doubt you haven’t slept yet?” He inquires, trying his best to make his way to the door of the coven’s home. San proves to be quite the obstruction, as it seems, and Hongjoong has to hoist the slightly larger man up enough to loop his legs around the smaller’s waist. Hongjoong grunts from the added weight but manages to carry San the rest of the way with no other complaints. You trail along beside them, taking care of opening the door and grabbing Hongjoong’s satchel once inside.

“Welcome home, my sweet starlight. I see our star and bird found you before I could.” Seonghwa is the first to greet the three of you upon stepping inside. You only notice Yeosang’s sleek black cat form slinking around the hearth witch’s ankles when you’re helping Hongjoong out of his shoes.

“Mm, they were waiting outside,” Hongjoong mumbles into the chaste kiss Seonghwa delivers to his lips. Seonghwa also places a sweet kiss on the back of San’s head before Hongjoong steps around the taller man, continuing to carry San as he goes.

“Mingi fell asleep in your bed last night, so don’t be surprised if you find him there,” Seonghwa calls out over his shoulder. You stretch up to your tiptoes in front of him, half-expecting the kiss that he presses to your lips a few seconds later, but the sudden appearance of Yeosang’s human form popping up on your left is much less expected. You nearly jump out of your skin, and probably would have if not for Seonghwa placing a steadying hand on your hip.

“You haven’t slept either,” Yeosang comments, nose pushing hard against your cheek. You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“No need to lecture. I’m going up with them, don’t worry.”

“I’ll come by after Jongho heads out for morning work.” Yeosang smiles a little before turning on his heel and heading back into the kitchen, no doubt where Jongho waits. Seonghwa huffs out a laugh but sends you on your way without any more conversation. You catch him slipping back into the kitchen as well just as you start climbing the stairs behind Hongjoong.

“Did San fall asleep already?” You ask after the man. You can barely see the familiar’s face from how hard he has it pressed into Hongjoong’s neck, but his eyes seem to have fallen shut at some point. He’s either basking in Hongjoong’s presence as much as he can or he’s entered a pleasant state of unconsciousness with Hongjoong’s warmth around him.

“Almost. He’s calming down some though. I’ll put him in bed with Mingi then take a bath. Care to join?”

“Such a temptress,” you snort to his back.

“I’m only joking, my dear. Keep San and Mingi company while I’m washing up for me instead? We can bathe together another day.”

“Of course darling,” you murmur, drawing a hand across his shoulders once the two of you reach his door. “Be quick though. Mingi will want some time to cuddle before he joins Jongho for yard work.”

As Seonghwa warned, Mingi is already curled up into a tight ball in the center of Hongjoong’s bed when you enter the room. It’s not hard to move his lanky limbs to the side to make room for San, and when Hongjoong eases the familiar down to the mattress, Mingi immediately takes to curling his body around the smaller man like it’s an act of pure instinct. San nuzzles into the touch, releasing a content little hum. You feel a hand brush the small of your back and jerk to look Hongjoong in the eye. Turns out, it was only a way to distract you because he captures your lips in a quick kiss that tastes a bit of honey and cinnamon. You have no time to savor the taste, however; Hongjoong pulls away just as quick and mumbles something about being quick to clean up. You bring a hand up to touch the spot where his lips just were. The smile that overtakes your face is one you can’t hold back, and now it’s your turn to be content and happy as you pull the sheets back to join Mingi and San under the covers. A large hand clamps down hard on your waist, tugging you flush against San’s chest.

“Where’s my kiss?” Mingi’s voice rises through the silence, thick and groggy from sleep. You reach around San to smack him as gently as possible on the arm.

“Go back to bed.”

“Joong home yet?”

“Mhm, he’ll be in bed in just a bit.”

“Good,” Mingi sighs. He settles back into the mattress, maintaining his hold on you around San’s body, and you twist just enough to lean over the sleeping familiar.

“Kiss,” you murmur, and Mingi rushes to meet you halfway with a cheeky grin. “Okay, now sleep. You don’t have long before you have to be up.”

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep wrapped up in that embrace, and even when Hongjoong does finally come to bed, he doesn’t stir you from sleep except for the barest sensation of lips against your forehead. You might hear him mutter some loving words to all three of you, perhaps lingering a little while longer on San because he knows the familiar needs that reassurance and comfort right now more than ever, but once he settles down and tucks your head against his chest, a wildly comfortable and deep sleep overcomes you.

[valhallasubstitute]

Blind

Sihtric x reader Modern AU

Request: Ok so reader has a crush on Osferth, but the feelings aren't mutual, reader is sad because her crush likes another woman. But Sihtric steps in and helps reader to feel better and he ends up asking her out, because he always had a crush on her. It can be modern or Tlk era, you decide!😁🧡

WARNINGS: like none, mentions of smoking?

Tags: @flowers-in-your-hayr @geekandbooknerd @mariaenchanted @solinarimoon 

If you could go blind right now you would, but even then, this would still plague you late at night.

You knew that look so well. The doe eyes, the softness that filled them and the lopsided grin that you couldn’t fight. Why would you want to fight such an expression anyway? It was all soft and obvious and warm like the summer sun.

And he was looking at her.

Not you.

You were sure that even if you stood in front of him, butt naked with neon paint covering your tits he still wouldn’t see you, not when she was in view.

You knew the look on his face so well because it was the same one that you had every time you looked at him.

Even now you could still feel the last of the butterflies, the ones that hadn’t yet been crushed by the sinking feeling that washed over you, fluttering in your stomach.

You could feel the tightness in your throat as you watched Osferth laugh and place his hand on her arm – the subtlety of his affection it hitting you like a freight train. She leaned into it, batting her lashes and practically glowing with his attention.

Just like you had done a million times, but he had never smiled at you like that, his hand had never lingered, and he had definitely never cupped your cheek and brought his lips to yours.

You were a big girl; you could handle this. You had survived high school and your friend’s teasing. You wouldn’t cry. Not now, not on the phone to your girlfriends and not in your bed tonight.

You repeated the words in your head, a mantra of tiny lies that faded with the welling of tears. He was your friend, you should be happy for him, shouldn’t you?

‘Y/N,’ Sihtric’s voice brought you back from your spiralling melancholy. ‘It looks like it’s going to rain soon, do you still want a ride home? … Y/N?’

Wiping your eyes quickly you turned to him with a small smile, you knew he wouldn’t buy it, but he wouldn’t push either. You were close with all the Coccham boys, but Sihtric seemed to understand you the most. He was quiet, and mischievous and lovely. And right now, he was offering you a ride home, away from Osferth and his new girlfriend.

‘Yes please.’ Sihtric placed a warm hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly with a small smile.

‘Come on then, kid.’ You scoffed but didn’t hesitate to follow him. He made your excuses for you, nodding along with the protests and shouted goodbyes. When it came for you to walk past Osferth he stepped in front. Sihtric made brief conversation with him, giving you the chance to slip away.

He knew. You didn’t know how but he knew, and you couldn’t have been more grateful in that moment.  

He guided you to his car with his palm gently pressed to the small of your back, opening the door for you with a little bow. Away from your friends and the music it felt like you could breathe again. Inhaling deeply, you let your sadness be dulled by the smell of leather and cigarettes and that one slightly spicy aftershave Sihtric used.

With the slam of the driver’s side door Sihtric was next to you once more. ‘‘Some party huh?’

‘Oh yeah, one of Uhtred’s best.’

Sihtric looked at you with a single eyebrow raised and amusement in his mismatched eyes. You shrugged, turning your gaze from him back to the house. You kept getting flashes of Osferth kissing her.

As if Sihtric could hear your thoughts he turned on the radio, setting the local station to a comfortable volume. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel gently and ever so slightly off beat. You turned to him, glancing from his fingers to his face pointedly.

‘Can I help you Y/N?’ He was grinning at you, dimples appearing as he feigned ignorance.

‘You could at least try to be match the song.’

‘Is it annoying you?’

‘No. Not at all.’ A lie and an ill hidden one at that. The car slowed to a stop as the lights changed from green to amber, and the drumming of Sihtric’s fingers only got louder. ‘Oh, come on!’

‘What?’ His grin was shit eating but infectious. You made a grab for his fingers, a hopeless attempt to pin them to the wheel at least but Sihtric was too fast. He grabbed your wrist and held it high as his other hand attacked your side. Your battle and squeals were cut short with the horn of another car, the green light flashing at you.

As your laughter faded the sinking feeling returned. You could feel the mood in the car change and cursed yourself for it. You could feel Sihtric’s eyes on you too. You shook your head, as if that would physically dislodge the feelings you had.

‘Hey, it’s okay to be sad you know.’

‘I know but…’ Sihtric let the silence hang, turning down the radio as you fiddled with the cuff of your sleeve. ‘I just don’t want to be sad about it. He’s my friend and I want him to be happy, if she makes him happy surely I should support that.’  The Dane hummed in response. ‘I mean, there are plenty more fish in the sea, right?’

‘There are.’

‘Do you know any who would be interested in all of this?’ You gestured to yourself with a vague swish of your hand. Sihtric’s eyes crinkled at the sides as he puffed out a laugh.

‘Oh, I know a few. Half of them wouldn’t be able to handle you though.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means women like you are rare, Y/N. You should be treated that way.’ You could feel the blush rise from your chest to the tops of your ears. Sihtric took another quick glance at you before taking a turning that wasn’t on route to your house.

‘Excuse me, where are we going?’ You welcomed the distraction, perking up in your seat as Sihtric shrugged.

‘Just some place I know.’

You huffed at his mystery but let yourself relax as the grey buildings faded into lush greenery, and eventually the ocean.

‘You know what I said about there being plenty of fish in the sea? I didn’t mean it literally.’ Sihtric scoffed at your words, gently nudging your leg as he changed gears.

‘Shut up.’

Sihtric parked the car in a passing place, and once the engine stopped you could hear the roar of the waves. It was far colder by the coast, the wind nipping at your exposed skin and blurring your vision. You rubbed your palms together as your fingers turned icy.

You could hear Sihtric yelling something at you, but the words were lost on the wind, it wasn’t until his hoodie was thrown in your face that you understood. You didn’t bother trying to yell back, instead you mouthed a thank you, hoping he’d see the sincerity in it.

The fabric was well loved but it smelled good, and it still held the warmth of Sihtric’s skin. You pulled the hood up, tying the sting under your chin as you walked closer to the edge of the cliff face. Sihtric came to stand beside you a few minutes later, a packet of cigarettes in hand.

‘Why here?’

‘It helps clear my head.’ Even this close Sihtric’s voice still sounded distant, but you found comfort in his words regardless. The waves took the heavy feeling from your heart and washed apart of it away, the rest seeming to subside as Sihtric tapped your shoulder, his eyes shining as he mimed for you to pass him his lighter.

You smiled back, questioning until he pointed to the front pocket of his hoodie. You reached for it, turning the cool metal of the lighter in your hands.

You shook your head. No. Sihtric’s eyebrows shot up, mimicking the action once more before you started backing away from him. The confusion slowly started to fade from his face and your footsteps quickened.

Before he could make a grab for you, you were already sprinting back to the car, glancing over your shoulder every now and then. Sihtric’s legs were far longer than your own and he closed the gap quickly, but not quickly enough to catch you.

You darted from left to right, right to left. Your heart was pounding, and your laughter took your breath away, betraying the pace you had set. The game of cat and mouse came to halt as you locked eyes with the car between you.

‘Y/N,’ You could hear the warning in his voice. ‘Give me my lighter.’

‘And what if I don’t?’

‘I’ll leave you here.’

‘You wouldn’t.’

The car doors unlocked with a click and a flash of headlights. ‘Wouldn’t I?’

As long as you’d known Sihtric he’d always been good at masking himself, a face made for poker. The longer you looked at him the more unsure you became, slowly you rounded the car towards him. As soon as you were in arms reach you could see his plan clear as day on his face, yet there was nothing you could do to against his speed. His arms circled your waist quickly, his laughter mixing with your own. You fought him with the same vigour as you had done before, slapping his forearms and flailing legs. He only let you go when he has the lighter in his hands.

‘I believe that’s one one.’

‘Pfft, get in the car.’

Even with the heating blasting you kept Sihtric’s hoodie on, whacking him with the oversized sleeve as he tutted at your feet resting on the dash.

‘Do you feel any better?’ You turned to face him, confused at the look on his face. His eyes were searching yours and you could see the concern in them.

‘I feel great.’ As soon as you said the words you remembered why you shouldn’t. You waited for the sadness, the weight of a heavy heart but it didn’t come. Not while Sihtric was smiling at you like that.

‘Good. You should always feel this way.’

‘That’s the second time you’ve told me that today.’

‘I mean it. If Osferth couldn’t see that, and I say this with love, then it’s his loss.’

‘Thank you.’ Sihtric shook his head, his eyes going from you to your lips back to your eyes. You followed the curve of his mouth and the sharp lines of his cheekbones, to the softness in his eyes, trying to work out if this was all a part of making you feel better or if he meant it. He had never lied to you yet.

‘You don’t need to thank me, Y/N. If you gave me the chance, I’d show you that every day.’

‘As in date me?’

‘I’ve wanted to date you since the day I met you, I thought it was obvious and then I saw the way you looked at Osferth and how could I deny him a chance with someone like you.’

‘Well, I’m looking at you now.’ And you were. You saw the small smile, the softness in his eyes and the loveliness that was Sihtric. You saw it all and wondered how you could have been so blind.

‘Is that a yes?’

‘How could I say no?’

[thorinsbestie]

First time writing in english, is still hard for me to make paragraphs have sense, sorry :'3

War and Victory

Five months stood in the past since (y/n) magically appeared in front of everyone's eyes thanks to a mischief of Gandalf, after that she had been reluctantly accepted into Thorin's Company. Her relationship with the dwarves at first was not the best, however with the passing of days it improved little by little; now everyone treated her as if she were an old friend of theirs.

(Y/n) was lively, although most of her scandal and shamelessness led her to be the victim of the constant scolding that Thorin dedicated to his nephews. The three of them were somewhat common personalities, after a week or two the Li brothers and (y/n) had easily turned to nail and grime. It was no wonder why they had become best friends so quickly, both princes adored her, especially since (y/n) used to cunningly challenge their uncle, defying his words with a playfulness that drove the poor dwarf king mad and ended him musing incomprehensible words in khuzdul.

Today everyone had stopped in a town of men to reload ammunition of food and medicinal herbs. Being so late Thorin had agreed to stay in a tavern, the dwarves would share two rooms and the last one was left free for Bilbo, Gandalf and the human; luckily for (y/n) the hobbit was downstairs with the rest of the Company enjoying their free time. (Y/n) needed to talk with the Istari about a painful subject that she had been hiding in the depths of her soul since her arrival in Middle Earth.

As they approached the Lonely Mountain her heart stumbled more full of regret while remembering the tragic losses that all would suffer in the future.

"Gandalf, it's time for us to talk," she began, turning her cheerful face off with a pained expression, "you told me in the beginning that it was you who brought me here. You revealed to me that you were aware of everything I know about the future of Durin's sons and you asked me to keep the secret until I understood the purpose of my visit" the wizard looked towards the wood of the floor instead of her pleading eyes "I ... I think or rather I feel that from the first moment I came I knew what my role was. Five months have passed and my suspicions about this purpose it's now confirmed ... and I... I have made a mistake" she swallowed "a feeling that I already brought with me from my world was reinforced, I feel so desperate to prevent them from dying that…"

"Do you think it is correct to change the flow of events?"  the wizard interrupted.

"I believe… is no longer important if this is correct or not. I adore Fili and Kili, and I love Thorin. I have been in love with him since I read his story in my world!"

"And do you love him enough to lay down your life for him?"  he asked sternly. Gandalf's pale eyes piercing her soul. "You must think wisely about what you want to do, young lady. Yes, it is true that I have brought you to be the one who is choosing the destiny of Durin, and I know this is a difficult decision. But why would you lay down your life for someone whose feelings are not mutual?" his words were a hard blow to (y/n), but she remained firm "what will you gain by saving them? If Thorin lives he will be king of a kingdom of dwarves, do you think there will be an opportunity for you if you survive as well? Do not judge me as cruel, I just want to open your blind eyes from an illusion whose expectatives of being fulfilled are almost nil. If Thorin becomes king he must marry a dwarrowdam, a lady of noble birth; diplomacy does not allow a human to sit on the queen's throne or let an hybrid inherit the crown" his face became sympathetic, almost paternal "think, dear (y/n), you love Thorin however you don't need to risk your life for your feelings to be returned".

By now with such crude words spilled out from Gandalf's mouth, (y/n) was already biting the inside of her cheek as helding the fat tears that yearned to fall from her eyes.

"I don't care about my feelings! If he lives, I'll go happily into the arms of death!" she exclaimed with a broken voice, "he has been one of my greatest wishes! I am willing to fulfill it at all cost!"

The dwarves found themselves drinking huge mugs of ale that accompanied the stories and jokes that were told. The atmosphere down there was happy, even Thorin kept a tiny curve in his lips that, unfortunately, fell as soon as his eyes were fixed on the person who was coming down the distant stairs in a hurry.  The dwarf King distinguished crystal drops sliding in her face. She was crying. Why was she crying? Why was her vivacity reduced to ashes? At no time in the five months that they had been sharing Thorin had seen her discouraged like that.

Without even thinking about it Thorin apologized and got up following (y/n), who had left the tavern. He didn't just go with her out of curiosity, night was falling, it was dangerous for her to be defenseless outside but he would never admit it out loud, not yet at least.

Thorin found her curled up in the barn where the ponies rested, her arms hugging her legs that kept her face hidden. He approached carefully as she quietly sobbed. Was a matter of time when Thorin felt his throat go dry as he discovered how much he hated seeing her so blue.

"(Y/n)...? " he called soft.

When he didn't obtain an answer, he preferred to take a seat next to her. Thorin gently dropped his hand on her back for support. There he stood by his side, feeling unable to formulate a word as he heard the heartbroken whimpers that made him wonder what was the reason for such sadness. And finally, after half an hour she calmed down, straightened her back and proceeded to lean against the wall of wood; her expressionless face was soaked, eyelids as reddish as her nose, yet the pained glow reflected from her orbs was the last straw for Thorin's patience.

"Who made you cry?"  he asked demandly.

"Myself," (y/n) said in a whisper "Thorin, please answer this with honesty. If you were aware that your life is shortened with each step taken ... and if you have in your hands the possibility of preventing it, would you do it? Would you try to save yourself?"

What kind of question was that?

Upon analyzing his words, Thorin was clearly desconcert.

"What are you talking about (y/n)? Is your life in danger?" 

 "Answer my question, please" she turned her face bathed in anxiety, "would you save yourself even if it means paying with what you love the most?"

"I wouldn't, living without what I love the most would be a punishment worse than death. Tell me now, what is wrong with you? Are you ill? Should I call Óin?"

(Y/n) smiled without grace, but such action was interpreted by the dwarf as the synonym of a goodbye. A bad feeling took hold of his stomach that churned at the simple idea of ​​losing her, because Mahal, it was clear than water how much Thorin appreciated her. She was his One! His true love, and if she had fallen from another world right into his arms it was because she was predestined for no one but him; she was his by right.

"Since the first time I met you in my world you became my greatest admiration, Thorin, and for that reason I would follow you further to Mandos' halls"

��"Don't say that, (y/n), I haven't …"

"I'm sorry" she interrupted getting up and wiping another fallen tear, "keep in mind that no matter how difficult the circumstances are, I will be by your side until ... until my visit to these lands is over, I promise you."

Her words were never erased from Thorin's memory.

On Raven Hill there was no noise except for the cries of a King crying disconsolately the name of his One. She was slowly perishing in his arms. The dwarf did not cry easily since his heart was made of stone, however his hardness was cracking, cracking to release the unbearable pain that he suffered when he saw that life abandoning the human's eyes.

Why? he wondered, why had she taken her place? Why had she given her life in exchange for his?

Minutes before this heartbreaking scene, a battle had unfolded between Thorin Oakenshield and Azog the defiler. The King had no other thought than defeating the orc. At no time crossed through his mind the thought of (t/n) leaving the throne room where he had demanded her to wait for his return until the war was over. Thorin thought she had listened to him, but now the misfortune of her disobedience was manifested by a reddish thread of blood that trickled from between her lips and ran down her chin, staining her shirt more than it had already caused the deep wound on her abdomen.

"Thorin ... don't cry ..." she spoke in low whispers.

"Why have you broken your word? I asked you to stay on the throne where you'd have been protected, why have you taken death for me?! You shouldn't have ...!"  Thorin broke into sobs, "you can't abandon me, don't do it, I implore you to stay with me"

"Don't you remember what I told you? I would go by your side further to Mandos' halls. I have come to Middle Earth with a purpose that I have already fulfilled, my visit is over" she smiled weakly. "I knew your destiny. Many times I begged in my world for being able to change it and give you the happiness of enjoying your effort to recover Erebor. My wish was listened, and…. " a fit of coughing interrupted her. Each second passed her voice was hard to hear" I will leave happy knowing that you can be King, Thorin…"

The dwarf never imagined that she would actually follow him to Raven Hill, that (y/n) would wait hidden in the mist and debris to impose her goal. He didn't see her coming when she leapt to get between the sharp edge that was pointing against his torso. He even had a chance to push her away from him.

"How could you be so cruel to yourself? You didn't owe me anything! Then why did you give your life for me ?! Why did you do it ?!"

 "Because ..." her eyes narrowed, already becoming opaque, "I have admired you since I read your noble feat in a book, because I fell in love as an innocent little girl night after night, the naive illusions of meeting my hero one day in person were just lovely…." she was about to die "because I grew up adoring you and… I have loved you since the first moment I met you… Tho… rin… " her voice finally trailed off.

Her eyes finally got closed. She did not speak any more.

" (Y/n) ....? (Y/n) wake up, please open your eyes givashel, wake up, open your eyes!" cried the king in despair "please come back to me! You cannot abandon me!"

The cries returned, Thorin clung to the human's body as if he wished with all his soul to become one with her. His tears fell without frenzy, drenching the face that would have loved with such devotion if fate had not unjustly taken her away from his embrace. At that moment Thorin felt alone again as when he lost his father and grandfather during the Battle of Azanulbizar. This time Fili, Kili and (y/n) joined the memories that only came to life in his head; the three partners in shenanigans slipped from his hands like souls he could never caress or see.

In war there is no victory when lives as loved as those of your family have been lost.

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

@sicktember Prompt # 20: Doctor Visit/Checkup

Title: The Best Medicine

Fandom: N/A

Based on this post by me. (Sick doctor)

A physician leaves work miserably sick. His RN girlfriend takes care of him.

(Author’s Note: This breaks the rule I set of less than 2k words but I wrote it before I decided to do this challenge and thought it worked well here. I just needed a sick doctor having PE performed on them ok 😅)

Due to the fact that it was 6:30 AM and she was still more asleep than awake, it took her a while to realize the man she was dating was standing behind her as she waited in line for coffee. However, in her defense, she had never seen him in this coffee line at this time of day before (and she herself was here at this time every day).

It wasn't until she heard a familiar, sniffly yawning noise that she turned and caught his eye. 

"Shane? What are you doing here? You're usually sleeping right now." She didn't go to greet him right away, mainly because she didn't want to lose her place in line, and only two people stood between her and caffeination.

He too looked startled, though happy to see her. "Molly, hey," he said. There was a squeaky rasp to his voice and he had to clear his throat before he could continue. "Had an early meeting that got cancelled at the last minute. Since I was already awake, figured I'd come into the office early and clear out my inboxes."

"Gotcha. Well cool, that means I get to treat you to coffee for once. You find a place to sit and I'll get the drinks."

He shot her a grateful look and stepped out of line.

Molly ordered, received, and paid for the coffees quickly, tipping generously, before going to join Shane. He kissed her on the cheek as he took his cup, and they shared a warm smile as they made their way to a little sitting area, sharing a bench against the wall.

"Kathy's coffee is the best in the hospital. You'll love this."

"So you've told me many times. I'm glad I finally get to try it. What did you get me?"

"A surprise. You'll like it, trust me."

"Cheers, then." With another smile, they tapped their cups together before taking long pulls of their beverages.

"This is delicious," he said after a moment. "Best I've ever had from here. Thanks, babe."

"My pleasure." They sat for a bit in companionable silence, sipping their drinks. However, Molly couldn't help but cast sidelong glances at her partner with increasing frequency. Now that she was next to him, she saw he looked quite unwell. He was pale and shivery, with a flush over his cheeks and ears, and looking overall rundown and uncomfortable, a far cry from his usual easy smile and warm, steady demeanor.

"Is everything ok, doc? You really don't look good."

"You're saying I look ugly today?" he countered teasingly, dodging the question. 

She nudged him playfully. "You're just as handsome as ever. I'm saying you look sick. Are you feeling ok?"

He shrugged. "Think I'm just tired. Not used to being up so early. My head and throat are kinda sore I guess."

"Just tired, huh?" She reached out and placed her palm to his forehead, then his flushed cheeks, and finally his neck, where she could feel the swollen lymph nodes she had already seen. She clicked her tongue scoldingly.

"That's a fever, Doctor Mitchell, and a high one at that. Why in the world did you come to work today?"

"No kidding, really?" Shane leaned back against the wall, rubbing his neck and looking sheepish. "I can't even remember the last time I had a fever. Had to have been before medical school. Guess I forgot what it feels like."

"Hmm. Well regardless, you need to go home. You can't risk infecting your patients and staff."

"Yeah, of course. I'll go now."

When he stood, she did as well, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Feel better. Get lots of rest and fluids."

"I know the drill," he rasped, smiling a little. "I am a physician."

"Sometimes I have my doubts, mister 'doesn't know what a fever feels like.' Sports medicine doesn't deal with the flu much." She kissed his shoulder fondly.

"Yeah, yeah." He pulled away, running his thumb over her jawline. "Thanks again for the coffee. I'll see you later. Text me when you have time. I'm sure I'll be bored out of my mind."

"Will do."

She watched him go wistfully, wishing she was going with him.

Naturally he wasn't far from her thoughts for the rest of the day. The hospital OB-GYN clinic was as busy as ever, and the hustle and bustle kept Molly, an RN, quite distracted, but every moment of downtime found her wondering how Shane was doing.

She texted him a few times as he requested. The first time he replied right away, saying he had made it home safely and was relaxing on the couch. The second time he replied a few hours later, saying how tired he was and how he really was starting to feel unwell, but he was doing fine. The third time he never replied.

Her plans for the weekend had been solidified in her mind as soon as she felt how feverish he was. She practically ran out the door as soon as she clocked out. Her first stop was her house to change clothes, shower, and gather some supplies. Her second stop was Shane's favorite soup and sandwich place for two quarts of soup and two sandwiches to go. From there, she headed to Shane's condo across town.

She hadn't informed him she was coming because she had wanted it to be a bit of a surprise. Initially her plan was to leave the soup and sandwich on the stoop and ring the bell, then duck out of sight until the last minute. However, her plan changed when she caught a glimpse of him through the front door.

He was fast asleep, sprawled out on his stomach on the couch. Bundled under two blankets and snoring with his mouth open, surrounded by a nest of used tissues and dishes, he was the picture of illness.

She didn't have the heart to wake him by knocking, so instead she used her copy of his house key to let herself in quietly, being careful not to let the cold air in with her. He didn't stir even after she shut and re-locked the door. After removing her coat, she deposited the items she had brought in the kitchen, then returned to his side. Perching on the edge of the couch, she ran her hand over his face and through his hair to wake him.

He stirred weakly, mumbling and snuffling as he opened his eyes. His face lit up upon seeing her, and he quickly sat up, leaning all of his sleepy, overly-warm weight against her for a tight hug.

"Molly, you're here! I'mb so habby to see you," he croaked earnestly.

She hugged him back just as tightly. "Of course I'm here. When you stopped replying to my texts, I knew I had to come check on you. You look so sick, poor guy, and you're so stuffed up. Are you surviving?"

He shrugged, pulling away. "I guess. I'mb doi'g ok. So achy and tired. Just been sleebi'g all day." He licked his cracked lips and tried to swallow, which resulted in a grimace. "Budt you should go, babe. I don'dt wandt you to catch this. It's ndasty."

As if to prove his point, he turned away from her to cough productively into his elbow, thick and chesty. He followed it up with a honking nose blow that was far less productive. She watched this display sympathetically.

"I'm not leaving you all alone and sick like this. And anyway, if I do get sick, I think I know a doctor who could take care of me." She bumped her shoulder against his. He smiled wanly. "Now, have you taken any medicine recently?"

He sheepishly averted his eyes. "Umb… ndo. I… don'dt really have anythi'g to take."

"Ugh, Shane. Don't tell me you're one of those 'it only treats the symptoms' purists."

"Ndo, it's ndot thad. Like I told you, I just haven't been sigck in years. I've never thought to buy cold mbedicine."

"You're such a guy," she sighed. "Even if you are a doctor. You at least got your flu shot right?"

"Yeah. Budt they're already sayi'g it's probably ndot goi'g to be very effective this year."

"Of course they are." She sighed again. "However, I had a hunch this would happen, so I came prepared." She quickly retrieved a bag from the kitchen which rattled with medications, sitting down beside him again. She selected the ones she wanted and shook them into his hand, watching closely as he swallowed them.

"You're acti'g like you don'dt trust mbe to take care of mbyself," he teased, taking several gulps of water to chase the pills. 

"That's not necessarily true. I just want to do everything possible to help you feel better."

He had to cough harshly again before he could answer, hard enough to redden his face. "I love thad you wandt to take care of mbe. Budt you should really go. I'mb so contagious right ndow, and I don'dt wandt to try to stay away from you."

"Then don't. I came here to be close to you. I don't care if I get sick. It's the weekend anyway. I'm here for you and only you. Besides, you were probably contagious yesterday too, and we still made out. So it doesn't matter anyway."

"You're too good to mbe," he mumbled, finally succumbing and leaning his full weight against her, closing his eyes as he wrapped his arms loosely around her. "Budt I still don'dt approve. You're staying AMA, just so we're clear."

"Call me a rebel, then," she murmured, stroking his sweaty hair.

He sneezed suddenly, only once, but wet and laborious, catching it in his elbow. She quickly pulled a tissue from the nearby box. He took it gratefully, blowing his stopped nose as best he could before resting against her again. He sighed deeply as she resumed her petting.

"You're lugcky the desire to be taken care of when sigck is a deebply ingrained biological traidt," he continued to mumble, sounding sleepier by the second.

"I am, huh? Well you're talking an awful lot for someone who has no voice."

She felt him smile against her, but he did fall silent for a while, aside from his sniffling and soft coughing. She thought he was going back to sleep when he spoke up again.

"You know whad would mbake mbe feel even better thad mbedicine? Sumb soubp."

"Hmm, well it just so happens you have a girlfriend who thinks of everything." She gently shifted him off of her, going back to the kitchen and returning with a quart of soup and a sandwich.

"Sal's chigcken rice?" he rasped, his eyes lighting up hungrily as he sat up straighter. 

"Naturally. We've been together almost two years. I know what you like when you're not feeling good."

"You're a lifesaver," he groaned, taking the proffered food and digging in right away.

"I'm glad you have an appetite anyway. I won't ever forget last year's stomach flu incident."

 "Ugh, don'dt rembind mbe," he said with a shudder. "Bud other than thad one time, I'll always have an abbetite for this soubp. This is all I've wanted all day." He wolfed down the food with unexpected vigor.

"Well then you're lucky I think of everything, like I said. And to think you wanted to kick me out."

"I ndever *wanted* you kigck you oud. I'm just goi'g to hade mbyself whed you ged sigck," he mumbled, swallowing a mouthful.

"Maybe I won't get sick, did you think of that? And like I've been saying--" She leaned in to kiss him fully on the mouth, long and hard, until he pulled away gasping. "--I don't care. As long as you promise to take care of me if I do, I won't complain about a few days off. So stop worrying."

"Ugh, take it easy babe," he moaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. "This fever has mby blood flow all mbessed ub. You can'dt be usi'g your lips on mbe like thad."

"Don't worry, I'm not planning to seduce you today. Unless you instigate it of course." She gave him a wicked look and he flushed. 

"You're something else, Mol," he muttered, unable to hide a smile.

"Just eat your 'soob'." 

He did what he was told while she tidied up his sick bed area. When he was almost done, she fetched another bag from the kitchen and began rummaging through it. He eyed the items she pulled out suspiciously.

"How much crabp did you bri'g? And whad are you doi'g ndow?"

"Something I've always wanted to do. And something I think will make you smile."

"I feel like I've been smili'g since you godt here."

It was Molly's turn to flush and smile. "Something that might make you laugh, then."

She sat close beside him on the couch with her stethoscope around her neck, placing a little tablet of paper and a pen in front of her on the table. 

"Constitution:" she both said this out loud and wrote it on the paper. "Well-nourished. Unwell appearing today. Complains of malaise and myalgia. Lymphatics:" 

She had been neatly writing everything down as she spoke. After the last word, she reached out to gently palate the visibly swollen lymph nodes in his neck. He moaned softly as she massaged them, the moan turning into a cough.

"Cervical lymphadenopathy noted. Lymph nodes tender to palpation." She wrote this down as well.

"Whad are you doi'g, Mol?"

"You get to be a doctor all the time. Today you're definitely the patient, so I'm taking my turn being the doctor and doing a physical exam on you. We need to make a diagnosis after all."

"Ah, of course. Mby apologies, please continue," he said with a little laugh, wiping his nose with a tissue.

"Thank you. Open your mouth please." Inserting a thermometer under his tongue, she also took his pulse with her watch as the thermometer calibrated. 

"Resting heart rate is elevated at 86 bpm. Temperature is abnormal at 101.8 degrees Fahrenheit."

"I could've told you thad. I just toogk my tembp before you godt here."

"I find that hard to believe since you were sleeping when I got here. Now shh. Actually say 'ah'." She situated a tongue depressor in his mouth, peering in. "Throat erythematous and inflamed," she said and wrote. "Now lean forward a bit if you would."

He did as he was told, looking slightly put-upon and she slid the diaphragm of her stethoscope under his worn university tee shirt, placing it on his back as she listened to him breathe for a moment. "Minor ronchi noted. No crackles or rales. Minimal concern for pneumonia at this time."

"Well thad's a relief," he said, sniffling wetly.

"Shh, I still need to listen to your heart," she said, sliding the diaphragm of the stethoscope around to his chest. 

"Terrible beside manner. I'm leavi'g a ndegative review."

She gave him her sternest "doctor" look. He merely smiled impishly. She sighed, biting back a smile of her own, and listened again.

"Normal rhythm. L-1, L-2 heard."

Setting aside the instruments, she slid her hands under his shirt, feeling gently.

"Skin is overly warm or feverish. Abdomen is soft, non-tender and non-distended."

"You didn't have to go under mby shirt, you know. Abdominal exam cad be done over clothi'g," he said, smirking.

"I was being… thorough," she said with a wink.

He chuckled hoarsely. "Someone's godt the hots for their patiendt. Thad's trouble," he murmured, stifling a yawn as he pulled his blanket closer around himself with a shiver. 

"Neurologic: grossly normal. Tremors noted due to chills. Psychiatric: patient is oriented to person, place, time. Behavior normal, but appears lethargic, fatigued and sleepy."

After writing down these final notes, she cuddled up beside him on the couch, wrapping him in her arms and pulling him close as he started shivering in earnest. He nestled against her wearily.

"How did I do?" she murmured. "Did I make you laugh a little at least?"

"Very thorough and efficiendt," he mumbled sleepily, coughing. "And yes you did. Whad's your diagnosis and treadtment plan, doctor?"

"At best a severe case of rhinovirus. I'm more inclined to think influenza due to the fever, but we'll continue to monitor. No active intervention needed at this time. Bed rest at home, OTC medication as needed and adequate hydration recommended." At this she handed him his water bottle. He drank several big gulps before handing it back to her and snuggling in again.

"If that's what the doctor orders," he sniffled, closing his eyes. 

She held him for a while, since that seemed to be all he wanted, just rubbing his back and stroking his hair. However, they were forced to move when Shane pulled away to break into one of his barking, painful coughing fits. He tried to settle again after the fact, making a face. 

"I don't feel good, Mol," he mumbled pathetically. "This sugcks."

"I know, doc. But I'm doing everything I can to help you feel better. I didn't realize your fever was so high though," she murmured. "And that was after you took medicine. But you seemed just fine yesterday. You don't do anything by halves, do you?"

"Thad's one of the reasons you have the hots for mbe, you know id is," he croaked.

"The only thing with the hots around here is that fever. You're sweltering."

"Sorry," he mumbled, yet made no effort to move off of her. Instead he sneezed wetly into his elbow.

"Update, you're sweltering *and* gross," she said conversationally. Yet she made no effort to move away from him either, kissing his forehead instead. He yawned as she did. "And sleepy."

"Thingk I'm just sigck," he muttered.

"Yeah, let's go with that. Do you want to go back to sleep right now?"

"Ndo. Ndot while you're here. I'm too sigck to sleeb anyway."

"There's no such thing as being too sick to sleep. But if you don't want to sleep right now, I have one more present for you." 

"You've already given mbe too mbuch."

"There's no such thing as that either." She carefully shifted out from under him again and attempted to head to the kitchen once more. Before she could take more than a step though, he caught her hand and made her turn around. Seeing his imploring look, she stepped back into the V of his legs. He wrapped his arms fully around her, burying his hot face in her abdomen. 

"Thangk you mbuch for the soubp and mbedicine, baby. You really are a lifesaver. I just wanted to tell you thad."

She nuzzled her face into his messy hair. "Anything to help you feel better. I can tell you're still miserable though."

"Nodt miserable with you here." 

"Just sick."

"Mhm," he mumbled, sleepily as ever. She let him hold her for another moment or two before speaking again.

"Seriously though, I have something else I want to give you. It'll just take a second to grab."

"Fine," he sighed. As he pulled away, she saw a hazy, pre-sneeze look cross his face. Sure enough, as she trotted to the kitchen, behind her she heard him emit a pair of messy, rough sneezes.

"That soup really got your nose going, huh?" she asked as she reentered the living room.

"Guess so," he sniffled, blowing his nose thickly. "Thad's the poindt though, right?"

"Indeed it is." She moved to the entertainment center and quickly plugged her laptop into the TV.

"Now whad are you doi'g?"

"Maybe you should stop asking questions and just wait and see."

"You know I hade surprises."

"That's not true at all in my experience, so I'm calling your bluff on that one. But you won't have to wait long for this one either way."

After a few setting changes to allow the laptop display to be projected on the TV, Molly popped a disk into the drive and started it up.

"Are we watchi'g somethi'g?"

"You and your questions." She tossed a thick DVD case into his lap. He picked it up, his eyes widening happily.

"The original Jurassic Park trilogy? Holy crabp, this is awesome!"

"I'm glad you approve," she laughed, stepping into his arms again. "It was going to be your Christmas present, but I figured a sick day at home is an even better occasion."

"This is perfect, love. You're ambazing," he mumbled, squeezing her tightly.

"Anything for my best guy." She nuzzled his hair again fondly. "Anything to help you sleep."

"I don'dt wandt to sleeb while you're here though. I don'dt wandt to mbiss out on seei'g you."

"Well then you're in luck, because I'm planning on staying here all weekend. So I'll be here when you fall asleep and when you wake up. No time wasted at all."

A grin split his face. "You'd do thad for mbe?"

"I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise. Doctors need to be looked after too, especially by their nurse girlfriends. So you stretch out and get comfortable and leave the rest to me."

"You're cooler than anadomy and dinosaurs combined, you know thad?"

Molly giggled happily. "I don't know if I'll ever come back from such high praise. You better quit while you're ahead, Dr. Mitchell."

"Only if you promise to make mbe coffee in the morni'g. Your good coffee."

"Sounds like a plan," she said with a grin and another kiss.

[softlyjiminie]

to hold a dragon’s heart | k.t.h

⇢ pairing(s): dragon prince!kim taehyung x warrior princess!reader,

⇢ word count: 19.1K.

⇢ rating: 18+, mature.

⇢ genre: smut, angst, fluff,  forbidden romance, dragon shifter!au, royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au.

⇢ summary: two kingdoms, two hearts and the world between them. your whole life has been a challenge,  never an easy moment on your road to becoming queen but will one decision, one encounter with the man you were destined to hate, change the fate of your worlds, forever?

⇢ warning(s): please read! major character death, violence ( torture scenes + fight scenes ), war, cursing, alocholism, unrequited love, arranged marriages, failing marriages,  imprinting, painful sickness, unexpected pregnancies, slight prejudice against mythical creatures and women, heavy smut, unprotected sex ( please wear protection ) , virgin + dom!taehyung, virgin + sub!reader, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral sex ( male + female recieving ), nipple play, light degredation + dirty talk, breeding kink, cumplay, creaming, cunnilingus, slight exhibitionism, male masturbation,   taehyung has a two-headed penis (with spines), teaehyung has charcoal flavoured cum— i may have gotton carried away…

⇢ author’s note(s): hello everyone! this is my contribution to the @ficswithluv​ Love Library project! i was a part of the fantasy category with @jamaisjoons​ !! i worked really hard on this fic, and it’s probably my biggest work, i’m so proud of it so i really really hope you guys enjoy and leave some feedback <3

⇢special mention(s): i would like to thank my baby, miss gia of @fantasybangtan​ for helping me muse and giving me inspiration to complete this fic, as well as giving me feedback on this hefty boy n making it’s beautiful banner !! ( also i named the sea after you ) anddd my little babie @fantasyjoon​ for letting me name a kingdom after her teehee. I wuv u guys <3

two kingdoms, two hearts and the world between them. your whole life has been a challenge,  never an easy moment on your road to becoming queen but will one decision, one encounter with the man you were destined to hate, change the fate of your worlds, forever?

on opposing sides of the enchanted forest, lay two kingdoms. one, painted with magic and mystery, from the soils to the creatures that rules the skies. the other, a land blessed with human life, cultivation and opportunity.

the Avalerian dynasty, land of the mystical and the Phantis empire, land of the man. both peaceful kingdoms, until war struck.

when you were young and with a curious mind, when tales of battle between warrior and warlock were used to put your infant heart to rest, you would ask questions. many of them, but one always seemed to snub the minds of your elders. 

“why do we fight the war? why did it start?” you would beam curiously up at your mother, Queen aadaya. she was a beauty, hair dipped in the white snows of the Huntcan tip mountains, laced with the silver moon at its highest. her skin was smooth, illuminated by starlight and her heart, as pure as any gold. but queen aadaya was a warrior, trained in the arts of her people, like her mother and her grandmother before that. she had hoped to one day, train yourself and your siblings as well.

your mother shuffled over on the bed, squishing your eldest brother, hoseok and yourself, while pulling your younger sister—tamarae, into your lap. 

you remember so clearly, your mother tilting her moon crescent eyes and brushing back the hair on your face. “we fight for safety, of you and all children.”

lies.

you had yet to learn, as a naive little five year old, what war could do to innocents such as your mother. such as your people. war was not kind to anyone it met, it’s  raging scent of death and decay and blood reaching every corner of your once ethereal home until nothing was left. nothing but sadness, loss and a hole in your heart. 

you lost your mother by order of assassination on the night of your eighteenth birthday. they say, as a revenge attack, for the death of the dragon king but it was then that you learned that war took no prisoners, it had no mercy. war was not like the lullabies and stories your mother told. that day, the kingdom mourned the loss of their queen, and you mourned the loss of your mother, the safety she promised, a lie on the ghost of her lips. 

hoseok was drafted into the war not a year later, his own doing. he trained hard but not as good as yourself, you would joke. he was to keep hold on some land by elvin territory and whilst it wasn’t much, it was everything to your brother. hoseok could do something to avenge his mother. the day before his deployment, you sat with your siblings on your bed like you would as children, sneaking snacks from the chef’s daughter that hoseok promised to wed on his return. the three of you giggled and smiled and reminisced, ending the night with tears and tight grips on each other, praying that your family would be together again.

years later, you sit aged twenty one in front of the royal court. with hoseok gone and your father unfit to rule, you were next in line to inherit your mother’s throne. the chair itself, towering with a twisted golden design, was forged from the molten treasures of the dragons themselves. tamarae sits to your left, poised in a lesser dramatic chair and gown and to the right of you, your advisor, jungkook.

“why have you come?” your voice drifts through the throne room, eyes narrow on the pathetic excuse for a man before you. your father rises from his kneel, watching you with pleading eyes. in the years between now and your mother’s death, any relationship with your father had dwindled. he grew power hungry, gambling away any riches in hoping what he earned would replace the loss in his heart. he drunk whatever he could find, rendering himself ill. you often wondered why your mother ever allowed such a man to father her children. 

“i come, with but a suggestion, daughter.”

tamarae looks to you, worry struck on her young, delicate features. yet, your steely gaze remains in line with your father’s, an anger brewing in your stomach. it was not uncommon for your father to want to challenge you in front of the court, undermine your power as you made your road to queen. you had yet to prove yourself, according to the court but you hand an inkling feeling that was your father’s doing.

 “a suggestion, pray tell?” you jest, replacing your glare for a delicate smile. a giggle bubbles from your lips, making the lords and ladies flinch. “my people and armies are fed, the livestock and farms are thriving, we have hold on all land claimed by men and yet, dearest father, you continue to doubt me.” like your mother, you had many who doubted your role as a women in power, you learned to be kind but ruthless, in order to survive. 

the man himself, withered to the bone with sagging old eyes and a wheeze in his chest, rises from his knees with a dark glint in his eye. “my grace, whilst i mean you no disrespect, but by royal decree you are still unfit to rule,” he explains, gesturing to the court with wide arms. “you lack one thing.” 

narrowing your eyes, you lean forward in your throne as your jewellery glitters and rustles around your neck. the tension in the room is thick, a knife would barely be able to cut it, “like, what?” 

“a king.” 

you rip your body from your seat, sister following suit along with your royal guard. how dare he? the sick man, run along and say you needed a king to help guide you as queen. your mother had managed just fine on her own, taking the throne from a young age and resisting the temptation of men. until she met your father, a lowly bread maker and made him the man he is today. 

he had always envied her power, much as he did with yours. 

“a king? a king like you? pathetic and on his knees like the drunk bastard he is. i digress,” you seethe, much to the amusement of your court. but your father knows your wit, knows your weakness, after all he is the man who raised you. 

“it is by royal law, for a young queen to marry, my dearest YN...” the man begins, tilting his head up at you as he basks in the support of the lords and ladies around him. “and if you want to prove yourself worthy to the court, i suggest you start, with accepting a suitor.” 

“ridiculous!” 

an advisor from beside you, the predecessor to jungkook, steps forward wordlessly and blinks to you as if he’s asking permission to speak. “with all do respect, your highness, your father does have a point...it is required of you by law to...” 

their words are silenced with a quick glare, your nostrils are flaring from how angry you are and suddenly the blue silk gown that you wear is too tight and too fitting. tamarae places a hand on your shoulder to help calm your nerves, your little sister had always been in tune with your emotions, much like your mother had.  the young princess even resembled the queen, with tumbling wisps of snow white hair and kind eyes. 

“breathe,” she whispers to you, helping you fix your poise. “you’re doing just fine.” 

standing up talk, you ease your shoulders and smile smugly at your father. “since the men of this room, seem to doubt my ability to lead... i will prove the council before me, wrong,” your grin only widens when they ask you how, and you feel your sister’s worrisome stare burning into your cheeks. “by bringing you the heart of a dragon.” 

“don’t be ridiculous, your highness!” 

a lord from goodness knows what county calls, you only roll your eyes, making your way down the steps to pass your father smugly. the court has broken into a series of whispers, anxious, excited and concerned. the men around you have grown complacent, too comfortable with the idea of overthrowing you and making you weak. 

“silence!” you bellow, turning to address every being in the room. you hum in satisfaction as the quieten down, letting your mantle made of the finest cotton, trail behind you. “no man, no king has ever brought the heart of the dragon to this kingdom. if i am to prove myself worthy to you, then this is how it shall be. laugh if you must, doubt me if you will. but i was born and raised a warrior and in my mother’s footsteps, i shall follow.”

with that, the meeting is concluded and your father is left gobsmacked, once again. 

“don’t do anything stupid, YN,” tamarae mumbles to you that evening. you stand in her quarters, dressed in traditional fighting gear. the pants are a dark grey, patterned with swirls of a lily flower and embroider with your kingdom’s emblem of a crystal lily. the top matches, only this time you wear padding to ensure your protection. “and make sure you don’t get hurt.” 

you scoff, shuffling on a cloak and pulling the hood over your head to disguise your face. royalty wasn’t allowed out of the palace after dark, due to the risk of unexpected assassination. the council put the law into place after the tragic loss of their beloved queen. “as if I’d ever allow myself to experience any form of pain.” you tut, twirling around to locate your sword.

the weapon had been a gift from your mother, on the day of your eighteenth. she had deemed you a  worthy warrior, fit for battle after many years of training. it was a shame that she would not be able to see  you use it now. 

“you know what i mean, YN,” your younger sister sighs, pushing herself to stand and handing you the sheathed sword. a bright smile pulls at your lips and you lean down to press a kiss into her moonlit hair. “what if you don’t bring back the dragon heart? you’ll call yourself a fool and beat yourself up about it.”

“i won’t, i promise,” you hum, shaking your head down at tamarae. she was young and she worried for your recklessness, much like a mother would for her child. guilt was deepset within you, despising how your sister grew up barely remembering the woman who gave her life. “now if anyone asks...” 

“you wish not to be disturbed.” tamarae gives you a soft smile, manoeuvring her hands to grip yours. she gives them a gentle squeeze before backing away.

you give your sister a quick nod of the head before sliding out of her window and slipping into the night. 

the enchanted, Mailtaria forest was nothing like you had imagined. 

according to fairy tails, it was full of beasts and blood and gore but instead, you found twisted oak trees forming the shapes of hearts, soil that illuminated beneath your feet. the air was crisp, yet some how, warming and scented with the faintest of flowers. 

roses. 

you know in your heart, that if the war was nothing but a myth, yourself and your siblings could play here for hours on end as children. as you walk, your mind drifts to hoseok, wondering if he’s safe. the eldest of your siblings had been determined to fight the war ever since your mother’s passing, a headstrong boy who was fast on his feet but not with his mind. 

the crack of a snapping branch in the distance kicks your senses into overdrive, making you duck in anticipation of a sudden attack. with a hand hovering over the sheath of your sword, you inhale deeply through your nose to keep your heart rate steady. there is no time for nerves, YN, no time for hesitance. 

dragons were not creatures of remorse. 

you ease yourself out of the bushes, mindful of the ruffling leaves that glow with some kind of fluorescence, magic that you’d not once laid your eyes on in your entire life. had you not been in the deep wood of the enchanted forest, to find and kill the dragon prince, you would have admired them more. 

“why do you come, bearing a weapon?” 

perhaps you may have spent too long, admiring the glistening petals.

you gasp, whipping out your sword and holding its point to the throat of the boy before you. slowly, your eyes trail upwards, shock connecting in your irises as you realise that he’s...floating. the boy has the hair of the silver moon, eyes as deep blue as the rough and raging Gialara seas, his lips are the colour of a blood rose with small and pearlescent fangs resting comfortably against their plumpness. he also wears a loose silk shirt that hangs simply from one shoulder, exposing his pale and slightly scaled skin. his pants are also lose, black in colour like the night sky to match his shirt. you note, that while he floats upside down, head tilted back towards you and body arched, he is also barefoot. 

this must’ve been him, this must’ve been. “the dragon prince,” you hum cooly, steeling your eyes and reaffirming your stance. “i’m here to kill you.” your brows furrow in concentration, and the boy’s, in confusion. the dragon prince, pushes his bottom lip into a pout as he twists his body to face you fully. he sets himself down, against the plush grass and uses a single finger to flick your sword to the side. 

“you have found me, yes,” the boy nods, giving you a tilted and faint smirk after his curious stare fades away. “i am kim taehyung, son of Veles and prince of the dragons...” the dragon watches as your stance falters, mouth open in shock at his strength to manipulate your mother’s sword. your palms begin to sweat at the sound of his full title, the name of the dragon king reminding you of the loss of your mother. “and i know, you will not kill me. i sense your being is far too compassionate to kill a living thing.”

you huff, dropping your arms and sending the vile thing a seething scowl. “you don’t know a thing about me-“ 

“my apologies, princess YN, i’m afraid i don’t,” taehyung interrupts you, stepping forward to inspect you closely. it was almost as if he had never seen a human before, but then again he was nothing like what you expected, especially in a dragon prince. before you can blink, you have been cornered into a tree, completely vulnerable and in the open. if he wanted to, taehyung could kill you right then and there, for the first time that night, a sprinkle of fear and adrenaline pumps it’s way through your veins. you  glance up at the regal creature, shocked that he even knew such detail about yourself and bite your lip. “in that case, might you enlighten me as to, why you seek to take my life?”

taehyung is not what you expected at all, the question bouncing softly from his lips, as you begin to loosen up. his eyes shift to yellow under the light and you start to feel warm, as if you can trust him. “my father wants proof, that i would make a great and honourable Queen.” you explain bluntly, unsure of why the words feel foreign when mentioning it.

“interesting,” the prince comments, quirking  a brow and smirking down at you as he rises off of his feet. “humans and their need for death and honour, i will never understand.” 

and with that, taehyung disappears into the darkness of the forest. a chill runs up your spine, confused at your meeting but left wondering, what more was there to the dragon prince?

“...and then there’s the marriage proposal from prince seokjin, from the shatus kingdom overseas, would you like me to accept or deny?” jungkook drawls, feeling accomplished as he skips over the final sentence with a light frown. his heart clenches, but he doesn’t say anything further.

“yes, very good jungkook.” 

“YN...”

“mhm...”

jungkook sighs, closing his book before tucking it under his arm for safety. he wouldn’t have been so annoyed if you were at least, half listening to him. tapping his foot in annoyance, the young advisor furrowed his brow deeply. “well in that case, i’ll spread word to  the royal bakers that you will be requesting a cake made of pigs slop for the wedding party?” 

“sounds wonderful,” 

“...we’ll even give out small favours of their droppings too...”

“i’m sure the dukes and duchesses would love that, jeongguk...”

“i’m sure the whole kingdom would be delighted to know that you’re marrying kim seokjin.” 

you slam your palms down on the windows, whipping your head to look at jungkook in shock. an amused grin tugs at his lips, as he approaches you to ruffle your hair fondly. now you were paying attention. “i will do no such thing!” you protest, pink painted lips forming a pout as you make an effort you lay down your tundra of wild locks. “me? marriage? what a preposterous idea. i should have you executed for that.” 

“maybe now, you’ll learn to listen to me, your highness?” the raven haired boy titters, giving you an exaggerated bow. “you could never do such a thing to your oldest friend, YN.” yourself and jungkook had been acquainted ever since you could walk, a beautiful friendship blossoming over the many years. his father, had been your mother’s most trusted advisor during the war, he too passing away after the loss of your queen. it seemed that fate had its own twisted way of keeping yourself and jungkook together, for he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, much like you.

shaking your head, you push at his shoulders with a hidden grin and listen to the chime of his medallions as he sways. the silver lily on his chest, the symbol of the royal court, glistens much like the eyes of the man you met last night. taehyung’s beauty had entranced you so much, that the task at hand had been forgotten. of course, no one in the castle expected you to bring the head of a dragon back straight away...but something in you longed to see the awe, the shock and the respect on their faces when you did. they would learn to see you as their queen. 

but something about taehyung, made you weak in the knees. an inexplainable feeling, a shy tint to your cheeks and a beat in your heart. he was different, not at all what you expected. walking away from jungkook, you pivot on your heel, the flush to your cheeks becoming more obvious by the second. “there will be no more marriage proposals from now on, jungkook. make that clear to the neighbouring kingdoms.” you remark, nodding your head with the wisps of a smile against your lips. 

one of things, about having known you so long, is that jungkook could read you like an open book. the advisor could tell you were distracted, softer. it was almost as if his soon-to-be queen’s resistant and hard exterior had crumbled. this wasn’t your usual rejection of proposal, whereby you would growl and grumble so much so that the Huntcan tip mountains would quake in your presence. no, this was much like the time where the baker’s eldest son, yoongi, had snuck some treats up to your room when you were children. you had developed an infatuation for yoongi throughout your early teenage years, until he left the kingdom to open his own bakery, kissing you behind the rose bush in the royal garden on the night before he left. 

this was fascination, this was admiration. “you like someone,” jungkook teases lightly, a knowing smile tickling at the corners of his lips. “did you find a compatible suitor, is that it?” 

“the throne is my only object of affection,” you sigh, zealously. you twirled, a bright twinkle igniting stars in your eyes as the thought of taehyung’s silver lined ones and you can feel the excitement build in your veins. “a suitor? perhaps not,” the corner of your lips twitch up into a mischievous grin. “but the throne...it is a rather large one, is it not? awfully big for just one person.” 

jungkook raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed while his jaw tightens and his tongue pokes into his cheek. “i see, i’ll be sure to have the staff engage in some...extensive cleaning of the throne room. we can’t have her highness leaving messes.” he states, lips falling into a flat line. tilting your head, the glint in your eye dissipates and thick somber feeling fills the room. 

“jeonggukie?” you question with a quiet voice, swallowing thickly at his unexpected change in mood. 

the advisor shakes his head, tussled locks falling over his eyes. jungkook turns, shrugging with the book still tucked under his arms, prepared to leave the room. “if i may be excused, princess, i have duties to attend to.” 

“ah yes, of course...duties.” the whisper falls from between your lips, as you watch him go with an aching chest.

the view at castle ashwyn was one not to be taken for granted. the skies were daubed with gradients of apricot, papaya whip, and cherry blossom pink with dusting of baby power white as cotton candy clouds. the breeze was fresh, tinted with mint and rose, carrying the scents of the many flowers that twirled along the turquoise marble pillars of the castle. 

the grass outside was freshly cut all the way up to the village, where creatures of all kind walked amongst each other. pixies, werewolves, elves and all, living together in harmony and if you squinted hard enough, over the towering trees, you could see where they lived. the humans. 

taehyung hated it. 

the sickly sweetness that constantly surrounded himself and his people, where all that was in the human world was death, despair, greed and power imbalances. he hated the falsities that engulfed his father’s death, how everyone pretended. 

that there was no life of suffering outside of his own.  

it was beautiful here, life touched every corner to cover the illusion of the war beyond these walls. the prince felt trapped. he wanted to break free of all expectations, experience the world and see the legends he had been told as a child. taehyung was not a fool to the whispers, the taunts and teases from the royal courts. they had always doubted him for his optimistic view on the simple things, on them, for humans had taken his father and so he was destined to resent them for the rest of his life. 

“taehyung, my love, what preys on your mind today?” 

taehyung’s mother, the dragon queen, was a soft spoken and wise woman. ever since the death of his father, there had been many attempts to overthrow her from many kinds...including the sirens. and yet, they never once succeed as only royalty of dragon’s blood can bestow the crown. dragons had ruled the land of the Avalerian dynasty since the dawn of time, forging the first crown from the molten minerals buried deep beneath the castle’s soils. they were the most powerful of all creatures, dominating the earth as their large majestic forms but the dragons were also prime game for hunting, their scales and horns could go for up to a hundred gold coins. so the dragons learned to adapt, becoming shifters with a half human form, this allowed them to retain their abilities as dragons whilst allowing them to walk free amongst the humans.

the queen was stunning, and perhaps that is where the young prince inherited his charming look. her scales were of a deep cherry, shimmering under the lights like the brightest of diamonds. her black hair had curled tendrils that spiralled down her back and her skin was tanned by the golden suns of apollo. with piercing, aquatic eyes, queen elantris tilts her head to look at her son, she had always known his shifts in mood and thanked her maternal instinct for being able to read her ominous child.

“it’s nothing, your highness,” the young prince muses simply, turning to his mother with soft eyes and an awkward smile. smiling fondly, elantris shook her head and approached her son, wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug. her tail swishes behind her, in her half shifted state, the castle being too small to accommodate for the large size of royally bred dragons. taehyung spares a glance to the older, and shorter woman, squinting carefully to see the diamond-slit irises in her yellowing eyes. it was almost laughable at how well dragons were able to shift between states, taking on a human form is completely desired. that is how they killed the human king. mastering the art of disguise. “perhaps, i am exhausted, i had a rather gruelling night.” 

“deep in thought again, my love dear?” elantris chuckles, brushing back  the fading ashy locks from her son’s forehead. taehyung sucks in a calmed breath, closing his eyes at his mothers warm touch and allows himself to shift too. he is much more relieved to have is tail free, blackened and swishing behind him. his ears become pointed and irises shift into diamond slits. elantris beams as her child transforms. “you’ve been keeping yourself hidden, i see.” 

“i needed to be out, some fresh air to clear the mind, mother...” the prince whines and stretches, shivering as his ash scales form over his skin and hair fades from grey to black. 

taehyung pouts under the gaze of his mother, what a sight to see. the most regal prince, pouting under the amused gaze of his parent. “away with your thoughts, as you always have been, my prince...” elantris lilts and lets go of the boy, moving towards her seat on the throne. the seat itself is glorious, spiralling toward the ceiling with peaks in its molten crystal. “what preys on your mind?” 

the young dragon, ruffling out his hair and adjusting his clothes. he wears a jewelled black jacket, a gradient of white pearls to obsidian diamonds. he adorns a fitting pair of black pants and boots with heels. taehyung shift his gaze to the diluting pink skies above and breathes heavily. “humans...why is that we despise them?” 

taehyung’s mother sucks in a breath,  tongue swiping over the ruby of her lips. the prince turns his body to look at the queen properly, tilting is head and poking his own tongue into his cheek as he eases a brow, awaiting his mother’s answer. “dragons are stubborn creatures, most unforgiving...it is not easy for us to forget,” elantris explains noncommittally, keeping her voice study and demeanour controlled.

“what is there to be forgotten? how did this all start?” 

“that is what we have yet to learn my son, this conflict has been raging on for centuries now, words and swords alike...twisted,” the dragon queen pauses, looking her son directly in the eye. “twisted into lies and fatalities...”

“and so...we fight?” taehyung prompts, his stomach bubbling with unease at his mother’s cryptic words. 

elantris nods, head held high. “and so, we fight.” 

“you are forgiven, you know.” 

you look up from your flower crown, fluorescent roses and tiger lillies woven together by their grass green stems and frown. taehyung is sitting in the trees, his hair is now the colour of a teal tinged with blue while his eyes simmered a warm amber in the cool night. 

meeting taehyung had been nothing but a coincidence, yet you found yourself becoming grateful for your accidental meetings. the clearing you shared with him had followed you to your dreams, being with him under the moonlight now brought you to ease.

“forgive me for what? do tell.” you probe tartly and turn your body in the grass to ask why. the dragon prince drops from the tree and you screw your eyes shut in fear of hearing the sickening crunch that often accompanies broken bones. but instead the prince floats above you, face but mere inches from yours as a taunting smirk touches lightly at his lips. a rosey hue tickles the apples of your cheeks as you look away, cursing the creature from under your breath. 

taehyung smiles and settles himself on the ground, sinking to his knees to aid you in making some flower crowns. “for being human,” the dragon shrugs nonchalantly and picks up a completed crown, leaning forward to place it stop your hair. his lips are a breaths width from your skin, and a warmth bubbles in your chest at the prospect of feeling them against yours, eyes closing. when you open them, you gasp at the proximity of they prince, blinking rapidly and blushing. he’s so close that it seems like he was watching you. “mother says dragons must learn to be forgiving. so here i am, forgiving you.” 

“what makes you think, that you are not required to seek my forgivenesses well?” you counter as a slight aggression weaves it’s way into your question, tilting your head upwards with stern eyes. taehyung bites his lip, slit tongue poking out to wet them at their swell. “should you not owe it to me? while my people die fighting against your best men, do you not believe that an apology from yourself, would be quite fitting?” 

you chose this moment to shuffle away from taehyung, turning to face the trees

in the distance as you pat the heat away from your cheeks. “your people have magic, powers. and mine? nothing but a bare chest, swords and a shield. yet, you do not hear me forcing the forgiveness of my people upon you,” you point out— almost too harshly, twirling a piece of grass between your fingers. “you sit, protected in your realm while only your most powerful touch the bloodied soils. you kill, as do i. i do not seek your forgiveness, but the life of my people instead. the life of young boys,” a pause in your speech allows your mind to flicker back to hoseok, your fingers how clenching the grass within your disgust. “barely fit to fight, that are drafted into the war. women and children who are torn apart. please, forgive me, for not wanting to accept your so called forgiveness.”

“how do you know this? that we only send out best?” taehyung queries nervously, his tone quiet as his feet come into your blurry field of view. he senses in his chest that you’re hurt, scared and in pain. this is what the war did, not to his people but to the humans. it hurt you. everyone. 

the laugh that passes your lips, is cold and cynical. your eyes possess a glassiness, glittering with fresh tears as you look to taehyung with anger painted against your face. “you have just told me.”  

guilt washes over the dragon as he crouches down before you, placing a finger under your chin to tilt your head up to face him. his thumb brushes the tears that spill from the corner of your eyes as his lips form the words that whisper, “i’m sorry.” 

he is sorry for your pain, he is sorry for the burden that you bare on your shoulders. he is sorry that he cannot make it stop, he is sorry. 

the following weeks bring you back to the clearing, where taehyung desperately tries to erase his night of ignorance. you would meet nightly, under the sky with glittering constellations and stars that told a thousand and one stories. you were away from the world where lives were torn apart and the cloud of death was ever growing. 

you were alone and happy.

taehyung would show you many of his tricks, how he could birth a flame just by the click of his fingers. how he could make smoke rise from his ears and nose and how the colour of his hair changed with his mood. the prince had become your friend, a regular occurrence to your life that you could not deal without. 

but tonight, you would be prevented from such luxuries. 

the tips of your fingers dabbed lightly at your lips, buffing the ruby red into your flesh. a maid worked by your side, primping and prepping locks of your hair so that they shone under the crystal lights. your makeup was light, yet fierce, shades of mint and green spreading across your eyelids to match the fitting ballroom gown you wore. it was lace that curled into silver lily flowers,  from the shoulders and down to your hips, twisting into a wide tule skirt that was painted with frosted blues and mint green fading into white. a necklace of pure diamonds rested just above your breast,  a matching crown woven into your tamed hair and a pair of earrings, your mother’s earrings to go with. as you sit still, letting the maids pretty you for the evening to come, you recall a time where you would have loved to be in a dress like this. times where your mother would only faintly dust your cheeks with blush whilst your father readied hoseok in the other room. tamarae was but a twinkle in your mother’s eye back then.

the girl in the mirror stares back at you, the trace of queen aadaya on her skin. closing your eyes, you take a deep breath to calm your aching heart and hum in agreement when the doors to your quarters open. tamarae beamed at you as her own maids helped her inside, she was a gown less bold than your own but equally pretty as fuchsia pinks spiralled soft lavenders. dresses like these were reserved for special occasions, to impress guests from outside castle walls, making a sick shiver crawl down your spine at the thought of elder dukes and lords and men vying for the attention of yourself and the young princess. 

of course,  the banquet for tonight was your father’s doing, in an attempt to find you a suitor right away. he claimed that you had failed to prove yourself in the last weeks, with no trace of the dragon’s heart in your possession. so with nothing but the grace of the queens before you, you accepted his invitation to host a banquet.

“you look beautiful, sister...you’ve grown so well,” you stand slowly, lifting your skirts to make your way over to the young princess. she bows her head in a small curtesy for you causing you to chuckle fondly. you allow your finger under her chin to tilt her head up, smiling softly at the girl, the spitting image of your mother. “now now, you are my sister, tamarae. formalities are not required for tonight, even if it is a special event,” you tease with a whisper in her ear, causing the younger to giggle slightly. “for you and i both know we shall be sneaking into the royal kitchen after the night is done!” 

tamarae tucks a white lock of hair behind her ear, giggling happily as her small hands clasp onto yours. “big sister, we both know hoseokie would have made me take watch if he were here,” she remarks in response  and pokes your nose, ignoring the glares of maids who had spent hours perfecting your look. 

as a young adult— becoming a queen, the ballroom was often a reminder of simpler days whereby warm summery breezes wafted through the large french windows, carrying soft scents of the fresh lemons and oranges that grew in the royal gardens. hoseok would have been chasing you down, playing the role of big bad dragon whilst you pulled a fumbling two year old tamarae behind you. your parents would always come running in to save the day, mother playing the knight that took hoseok down and your father the one who saved his two princesses. 

those were happier times, better times.

before you knew it, you were seated on the throne with the best view of the entire room. the ballroom had towering white pillars sprouting like flowers against a mahogany glossed wooden floor, the walls are splashed with an egg-shell blue with small cherry blossoms contrasting against the colour. accents of gold decorate every nook and cranny of the room and the ceiling paints a picture of fairytale creatures dancing amongst the man. men gallop across the hall with blushing ladies in their arm, those who aren’t dancing are stuffing their faces with the array of sweet treats and savoury delights that are positioned precisely against white sheet banquet tables. 

introductions pass without you paying any mind, distracted by thoughts of taehyung whisking you away to your clearing in the forest, playing with the many creatures there. you slip back to reality when a sudden pain spreads across your left rib, making you scowl at the culprit...tamarae. the younger smiles sheepishly and points to the man apparoaching your throne. 

his hair is a soft, candy pink, contrasting with the black blouse and dress pants he wore. when he bows to yourself and your sister, you catch a glimpse of his dark, misty brown eyes and find yourself curious to search them more. “he’s handsome,” tamarae teases you, moving to stand up as he steps forward. her gaze flickers up to your stoic face as she giggles. “don’t you think?” 

“he looks like he’s full of himself.” 

the man eyed you darkly while you held out your hand for him to take. “namjoon, kim namjoon...” his voice sends shivers down your spine, good or bad , you’re not sure. his skin is golden like honey and his tone drips with the same smoothness. “of the Kevimore kingdom.” 

namjoon gives you a dimples smile, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lush lips for a gentle kiss. tamarae giggles by your side as you watch the man through your lashes, humming in content. it was always nice to see a man bend his will for you. “you may address me, as princess YN of the Phantis Empire,” you say, equally as smoothly whilst you tilt your head to the side. namjoon straightens his posture, bowing in respect. “i do hope you enjoy your stay here, tonight.” 

with your final word, you turn your gaze to the crowd and watch as they twirl about in tune with the orchestra but smile when you catch the eye of your beloved advisor. you had not danced at a ball like this, since you were a child and back then, hoseok had always been your partner but he wasn’t here now, he was fighting a war that wasn’t his. your sister delivers a sharp elbow to your side, causing you to grunt as you ready to scold her into next year. “ahem,” she whispers, jabbing your side again and nodding her head in gesture to namjoon. “he’s still here.” 

“i’m aware,” 

“that means he requires your attention.” 

“attention that i do not have for a man, tamarae.”

“YN, he’s right there!” 

“and he can hear you...” namjoon interjects with a small chuckle, poking his tongue into his cheek while his lips form an amused smirk. he taps his ear while a light flush rises beneath the skin of your cheeks, much to the prince’s delight. 

you duck your head, imagining that the prince before you gets off at the thought of making you blush. “is there anything i can help you with, prince namjoon?” 

he nods once, pink locks falling into his eyes as his dimples smile appears once more. “a dance, with you? my queen?” 

blinking, your lips part in shock. the only person to ever acknowledge you as the soon to be queen was jungkook, and that was often a joke between the two of you. but for a split second, it seemed— that namjoon’s dark, stormy eyes saw past the extravagance and diamonds— and saw you. the queen you were meant to be. 

“she would love to,” you sister answers for you, pushing at your shoulder to force you to stand. you rise to your feet,  unsteady on them and almost toppling forward. namjoon quickly catches you by the arm, offering you an earth shattering smile with dazzling eyes as he chooses that moment to lead you onto the ballroom floor. following namjoon, you turn around and give your younger sister a faux frown, sticking your tongue out at her. the maids around you gasp at your behaviour, while tamarae giggles and mocks your face.

upon reaching the dance floor, namjoon skilfully pulls you into his arms, pressing his chest to yours to guide your steps into the waltz. “you’re light on your feet, are you sure you’re not a dancer?” he chuckles quietly into your ear, making goosebumps arise across the planes of your skin. 

you turn with him, taking the lead from his grasp and smile cheekily. “i’m trained to fight, being light on my feet is part of the battle.” but your grin quickly falls upon seeing jungkook turn away with disappointment, what was going on with him? 

“ah, i see.” the prince falls silent at your words, offering you a quiet noise of agreement as the pace of the music rises and you start to speed up your dance. 

namjoon is a handsome man, his terracotta lips seem warm and inviting, his eyes although dark make you want to lose yourself in him. the prince is tall, at least a head or so taller than you and his arms that hold you are firm and large. namjoon is attractive but...

but he is not taehyung. 

the pink haired prince dips you, face hovering over yours as he takes a moment to tuck a fallen hair behind your ear. your cheeks heat up at his proximity but you swallow down your nerves and stutter out. “n-namjoon...i,” 

“you’re beautiful, my queen,” he says simply, running a thumb over your bottom lips before he pulls you back into his chest. “what i wouldn’t give to have you ruling by my side.”

“e-excuse me?”

“you’d make an excellent wife, YN.” 

gobsmacked, you try to rip yourself away from namjoon but his grip on your waist is too tight and suddenly he no longer looks charming and gentle, a sinister stare taking over his features. “let me go, namjoon. by order of the princess i demand that you let me go!” you scoff at him through gritted teeth still struggling in his grip. “if you believe that flattery will get you my hand in marriage then you are severely mistaken, my prince. i am a queen born to rule without a man, and i shall do so, just fine.” 

namjoon tilts his head in a sympathetic fashion, pressing you closer to him. “oh but princess, we are already on the path to being wed,” he hums, his lips ghosting over yours as you squirm away from his touch. “by order of your father, i am set to marry you three weeks from now, since you failed to bring the head of the dragon prince.” 

“no that’s not, it can’t be...he wouldn’t...he wouldn’t do that,” you mumble, feeling panic rise in your chest and lodge itself in your throat. your perfect world suddenly shatters, your view for the future torn to shreds. your father had sold your soul away to namjoon, who you now saw as a man who yearned for power. “he can’t.”  

“then your father is not the man you believed him to be.” namjoon concludes. “now put on a pretty face and smile for our loyal subjects, my queen.”

you gasp with tears beginning to flood your field of view, your eyes searching in the crowd for someone, anyone to tell you it’s not true. who’s face falls at your wounded expression, he knows, you think. jungkook knew and he didn’t think to tell you. your heart shatters into a million pieces and all you can think is out out out. you need to get out. 

but for now you turn to namjoon and give him a dazzling smile through your tears, as jungkook watches you with a guilty gaze.

running.

they say that running is able to clear your mind. but instead all of your thoughts and fears ran wildly beside you as you bolted through the forest. you could feel them, all of your worst nightmares crawling up your spine and scratching at your skin as you tumbled through the forest. 

by the time you reach the clearing, you’re clawing at your throat and desperately gasping for air through your choked sobs. you can’t marry namjoon, you won’t marry namjoon. your body trembles with the sobs that wrack your tiny frame, the dress that you wear is suddenly too tight and all you can do is wail for an escape. 

“YN! you have returned, i have to admit i missed you dearly-“ taehyung starts to ramble, just having come from a flight amongst the canopies. the dragon cuts himself off when he notices you collapsing onto your knees and tearing at the dress. “princess YN? YN, are you alright?” he drops to his knees beside you, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. the prince hates the way your chest is heaving, how a wild panic has spread through your darling eyes. “breathe for me princess, it’s alright, i’ve got you.” 

your eyes stay with his as taehyung coaches you through, his ice like irises calming you down as they watch you with concern. the dragon prince brushes a hand through your hair to soothe you as you hiccup and sniff, attempting to ease your panic. “off, i want it off, all of it...” you grumble moving to tear at your gown. taehyung follows your movements, using a  shifted dragon claw to shred off the remains of your skirt and help you out of the tight fitting corset until all that remains is your sheer and tule petticoat. 

“better?” your companion asks, pulling you into his silk shirt. taehyung is warm, much morse so compared to the cool evening, you remember him explaining that dragons have a heart of coal. meaning that the blood that flows through them is heated and molten. 

you nod shakily and move to hold his hand as a wave of comfort washes over you. “much, thank you taehyung.” 

“are you going to tell me what happened?” the prince presses gently, not wanting you to hold it in. if there was anything taehyung had learned about you in the last few weeks, is that you never had an outlet. you were closed off from the world, locked away and never let anyone see the vulnerable sides of you and yet...you somehow found it in you to trust him. 

nodding slowly, you turn and bury your face into his firm chest, fisting at the silk of his new azure blouse. “my father...” you sigh, letting your breath even out as you stumble to find the words. “he betrayed my trust...he turned the court against me and made them promise me to another man...” you feel taehyung’s breath hitch as his chest moves. quickly, you move to look up at taehyung and all you can think to do is kiss him but you can’t, not when you’re now promised to another. “i don’t love him, i could never be in love with someone so horrible.”

the now raven haired, dragon prince says nothing, instead choosing to squeeze you closer into his broad frame. he doesn’t look at you, mind racing a million miles an hour. you were to be married. and it wouldn’t be to him. so it is with a waking start that taehyung realises he is deeply, sorely in love with you. his chest rumbled at the thought of another man’s hands on you, kissing you and touching you, touching what was his. without meaning to, you place your hands on taehyung’s chest and grab at his attention. his usual ocean eyes flash with yellow and his primal senses are suddenly full of you. all he can see is your face under the light of the moon and stars, all he can feel is your touch on him and all he can smell is the sweet scent of lilies, of you. 

“tae...taehyung?” you whisper, sniffling as you lean up and tilt his head to look at you. “i will be alright, i refuse to let this stop me from seeing you.” 

he ignores your words, pulling you to stand with him. “lets go for a fly.” the prince says with bright eyes, staring at you.

“a fly? taehyung have you lost your mind-?” 

“it’ll be fun, i promise you. it’ll clear your head.” 

you slowly tear yourself from taehyung’s grip, holding your hand to your chest with a nervousness swirling in your stomach. flying. taehyung had told you that he was able to fully transform into a dragon, with all the same abilities as well. he called it shifting, and that meant he was able to breathe fire, roar like a mighty beast and fly. “i’m scared...” you admit, sheepishly. “what if...what if i fall?” 

“do you trust me?” taehyung asks sternly, stepping towards you and holding his hand out for you to take. 

“i...what?” 

“i said, do you trust me?” 

you hesitate before closing your eyes tightly and nodding, taking taehyung’s hand. “i trust you.” 

your eyes remain screwed shut as the crunch of bones fills the unoccupied silence of the woods. you flinch at the sound and the slip of taehyung’s hand from yours, whilst his heaves and groans become growls and roars. away from the warmth of taehyung’s body, you realise how cold the forest is in just your petticoat but you’re shivers are quickly ceased when a puff of hot hair surrounds you and a large head nudges your body. opening your eyes slowly, you gasp at the large beast before you, the taehyung that you know has been replaced with an oblivion black dragon, hints of silver and blue illuminating his scales under the shimmering night sky. the dragon presses it’s head to your hand, making you reach out hesitantly as you stare deep into its amber irises. 

‘do you trust me?’ 

you remember taehyung’s words as the majestic beast bows to you, you chuckle and watch as the dragon moves back, stretching out to spread its wings. you imagine that the wings themselves must be as wide as the west wing of your castle back home. when the dragon returns to his original position, you’re met with a puff of warm air, strong enough to blow locks of your hair away from your face. “impatient creature, aren’t you?” you giggle to yourself and clamber up onto taehyung’s head, making him shake it in response. 

with a deep breath, you hold on tightly to the spines feathering taehyung’s neck and close your eyes once more, listening to the sounds of his wings flap as he lifts you both off of the ground. the next time you open your eyes, you’re up in the air, soaring above the clouds. the pair of you are so high that the colour of the sky fades from a soft pink to the deep blue below, the beginnings of the sun shining in the distance. 

then taehyung makes a nose dive. 

the air rushes through your hair as you squeal, heading face first for the land beneath you. taehyung spirals his body as you throw your hands into the air, squealing loudly with happiness, you can feel every fear and doubt that clogged your mind and body rush away with the wind in your face. the dragon prince evens out his body, spreading his wings as you drift across the night sky, watching the world go by with you above it. you lean forward and rest the palms of your hands on taehyung’s, stroking it lightly as you fly past the stars.

when the clearing reappears in your field of view, taehyung tilts his body and begins the descent through the clouds. he flies low, letting you reach your hand out to touch the glistening water below. “w-woah, tae...taehyung!” you cry in amusement, feeling him shift beneath you, his bones realign as he grows tired and reverts back to his human form. his wings somehow manage to remain as the prince’s familiar face returns and he beams up at you. his wings encircle you as you make a crash landing into the clearing. the pair of you roll and tumble out onto the illuminated grass below you, taehyung’s wings protecting you and softening your fall. you manage to uncurl in his grip, landing beneath him as his palms flatten out by your head to stop himself from crushing you. 

“hi...” you pant, looking up at the dragon prince with glittering eyes. your hand reaches up to touch at taehyung’s soft face, his eyes still golden glowing irises and his curled hair now a faded black. he’s beautiful, he always has been but in this moment, you feel like you have finally see him. you can finally see that you love him.

taehyung looks down at you through hooded eyes, moving to run a thumb over your pinkish bottom lip, his breath uneven from the flight. “hello, my queen.” he says simply, face nearing yours. you feel your lashes against your cheeks as your eyes flutter shut, taehyung nosing your cheeks until his soft lips reach your own. hands in your hair, the prince tilts his head and kisses you. his lips mould perfectly against yours and you can feel your heartbeat wildly in your chest as your arms wrap around his neck and fingers curl in his wavy locks. taehyung kisses you like you’re his, and only his and all you want is to feel is him.

taehyung’s hands use a tentative touch as they slide down to your sides, slipping under your petticoat to smooth over your bare skin. you gasp as his lips venture out into the junction at your neck, curling your fingers in his hair as his hands push further and further up your clothes. he roams your skin like foreign terrain— fingers dipping at peaks and the curve of your body.  “taehyung...” you whimper breathlessly, pushing your head back into the lush grass below. 

the dragon freezes at the sound passing from your lips, moving to pull away. “are you hurt? did i hurt you?” taehyung asks worriedly, honey  eyes boring into your soul. you sit up, confused as you shake your head no, wondering if your eagerness to kiss him has driven him away. “i’ve never...i haven’t done this before...” the ravenette adds, gesturing between you both. never done...what? 

oh...

“been with a women before?” you ask gently, sitting up and leaning your chin on taehyung’s shoulder. you tilt your gaze towards him, smiling softly and move to cup his cheek. “i have never...been with a man either...you would be my first.” you whisper shyly, you had little time for courting as a princess, your royal duties taking up much of your time. but here you were, curled up with taehyung on possibly the most beautiful place on earth, feeling more ready than you had ever been.

“let me have you, if you will?” the prince asks lowly, warm breath fanning over your lips.

“you have me, all of me...” 

that was all it took for taehyung to crash his lips against yours once more, this time his tongue tracing over the seam of your own as he pleads for entrance to your mouth. you happily oblige, welcoming his warm tongue with your own in a battle for dominance, dancing together while his large hands pulled at your under clothes. you arched your back, letting him tug the tule garment off of you and spreading your thighs as he nudged them apart. 

“you’re so beautiful,” taehyung murmurs, pulling back from the kiss to admire you. his amber irises darkened to a dark gold as he drunk in your naked body, leaning down to ghost his lips over your neck. “i want to mark you...” he added, biting down on your supple flesh and sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. “fuck you, breed you. would you like that princess?” he growls. 

you arch your back as his hands come to cup your breast, squeezing them between slender fingers whilst he works a trail of purples down to your chest. “god, please...taehyung!” 

chuckling deeply, using his  dragon abilities, the prince blows a gust of hot air over your left nipple once his mouth reaches its destination. his snake like tongue pokes out to lick a stripe over the perky bud before he takes your breast into his mouth harshly, biting down and letting his primal instincts take over. even if he was a virgin, being a dragon, taehyung was genetically programmed to please during breeding seasons. he knew what he was doing, especially when you moaned aloud. 

a hand slips down your sides and into your panties, circling over your clit to spread your wetness as it glistened under the moonlight. “you’re soaking, my princess,” taehyung hums, still squeezing your breast as he sucked your nectar off of his fingers. “may i taste you?” 

“yes, please...” you gasp.

taehyung raises an unimpressed brow, pinching your nipple causing you to whine. “please what?”

eyes rolling, you moan out the only title you can think of, hoping it will urge the dragon on. “please...my king.”  

the prince with obsidian hair curses under his breath, making quick work of tearing off your panties and shuffling onto his belly on the grass so that he nears your entrance. taehyung spreads your lower lips widely, chuckling at the juices that flow from your flower. “so pretty, petal.” he says, watching you writhe under the night air before locking eyes with you through his curled locks. the air that hits your pulsing heat, is cool but taehyung’s breath is hothothot. his lush lips suckle on your clit before his burning tongue swipes over the length of your pussy, heated from his dragon’s core. taehyung sweeps at any of your sweet nectar that gushes from your hole, humming in content before pushing his tongue past your entrance making you cry from pleasure and curl your fingers in his hair. 

“look at you, absolutely dripping just for your king,” taehyung growls against your burning cunt, the vibrations sending your eyes rolling back in your head. desire burns brightly in the pits of your stomach, as you start to rut your hips into his face, the prince having neglected your wetness in favour of whispering foul words into your thighs. taehyung flicks at your swollen clit, making your legs wobble and threaten to close around his head. not that you would mind the view. “such beautiful sight, baby.” 

he dove his tongue into your tight hole, as arousal fogged your senses and his instincts to your body heightened. the world between your sweet thighs was slick, tasting of the most luxurious of treats to taehyung and he could tell he was becoming addicted to you. a finger slipped past your entrance, along with his tongue, thrusting inside of you and catching on the walls of your pussy. you wriggled against the grass, spread out in the open nature whilst taehyung claimed you with his tongue. “m close, m close!” you squealed when taehyung added another finger, fearing that your high was coming to soon. the prince was giving you pleasure that you had never felt before, that couldn’t be achieved with your own hand or imagination. you weren’t sure that you wanted it to end.

nimble fingers gripped at taehyung’s mop of sooty hair as he lapped faster and faster at your sensitive bud, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter until suddenly...it snapped. “cum for me, princess, reward your king.” 

white flashes behind your eyes as your release crashes over you, signs of your arousal painting taehyung’s chin and face. he licks over his bottom lip, chest rumbling at the taste of you before he moves between your thighs to and up to your face. he kisses you sweetly, once...twice... allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before deepening the kiss. the pair of you become a pile of limbs, entangled in the grass as teeth and tongue clash together. your hands wind down the path way of the prince’s body, stopping above his belt loop hesitantly. 

taehyung forces himself to pull away from your onslaught of kisses, pressing his forehead to yours— eyes closing with a pant falling from his lips. “you don’t have to...” he mumbles, lips ghosting over yours while he noses your cheek.

 taehyung’s hair brushes softly over your forehand, his eyes tightly shut away from the world as if, when he sees you again, he won’t be able to control himself. you stare up at him, taking in his every mole and freckle that dots his face. you trust him. “i want to, please— let me, my liege.” you insisted, a neediness sparking in your eyes.

“fuck...the things you do to me, princess,” hisses hotly, his cock twitching in his briefs as you rolled him over. the dragon prince quickly stood, helping position you comfortably on your knees before letting his hands fly to the buckle of his breeches. watching him closely, you felt your mouth water in anticipation— you’d never in your life seen a man in full glory before, let alone a mythical creature such as taehyung. you suspected him to be girthy, but your expectations were exceed as he proceeded to roll down his breeches and undergarments in one. 

taehyung’s cock was not only thick and girthy, but lengthy as well, so big that for a brief second, you were unsure that your own two hands would fit around it, let alone your mouth. your jaw dropped in awe as your eyes observe him. “well...uh, there’s something about us dragon’s that.... that perhaps i failed to mention-“ taehyung but his lip with nervousness, his confident and dominant aura suddenly wavering. 

“you have two heads-“ you blurt out, gaze trained on the second head of his forked member. “there’s two!” 

the prince blushes, running a hand through his curled hair and swallowing thickly. “for mating purposes, it increases the success of a female carrying...” taehyung pauses is breathe explanation, frowning deeply as you touch curiously at his cock. “—carrying offspring, princess.” 

the pet name comes out as some what of a warning, making you smile sheepishly at the man above you. “it’s got spines, taehyung...you cant expect me not to touch you!” you defend yourself,  watching him closely. “it’s hot too.” 

“for pleasure purposes, dragons are also naturally hot.” 

“do you think it will fit? i’ve not been with a man before i-“

seemingly sensing the nerves that stir in your stomach, taehyung leans down to grip your chin and tilts your head upwards to catch your eye. “i’ve got you, petal,” he whispers and presses a light chaste kiss to your lips. “do you trust me?” 

“yes, more than anything.” you breathe, settling back onto your knees as taehyung guides your mouth towards his pulsing cock. your eyes trail up his body as he tugs off his shirt from above you, his skin is glazed with a layer of sweat and desire pours through your system like the molten lava that intertwines with his dragon blood. you imagine that he tastes sweet, like the finest wines of the Ubeozia dynasties. 

leaning forward you shakily take taehyung’s tips past your lips, sucking on it hesitantly while he starts to groan. the dragon sucks in a breath from the night air as you take him further into your mouth, looking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “you’re doing so well, my darling  princess, so good for me.” he sighs.

his cock his hot against your tongue, forming tingling sensation at your lips while you work on bobbing your head. curses fall out from underneath taehyung’s breathy moans whilst his eyes flash golden like Apollo’s sun. his large hands thread between your loosened locks as they tickle at your exposed shoulders, encouraging you to give him more. 

your hands sit small on the base of his girth, fisting at what you cannot fit making a wetness pool between the apex of your thighs as you think about being stuffed full of him. taehyung lets out a small moan, closing his eyes and throwing his head back to face the stars as he shallowly thrusts his length into your welcoming mouth. your tongue works circles around his cock making taehyung’s fingers curl in your hair, massaging your scalp as he gently pushes your hot mouth further down on his pulsing, red hot cock. 

he hisses and grunts when you’re tongue glides over his slit, abdomen clenching as he feels himself fall into his high. you gasp as the dragon paints your tongue with a smokey release, his cum is a foreign feel against your tongue but brings you satisfaction as he quivers through the after shocks of his orgasm. softly, you let go of his member, sliding your tongue over your bottom lip to capture the rest of his cum— keeping your eyes trained on him. 

“how does it taste?” taehyung asks darkly, sinking into his knees to cup your face.

you hum for a moment, parting your lips gently as his thumb brushes over them. “salty, no...ashy.” you conclude, breathing lightly. taehyung quirks a brow, leaning forward to press a searing kiss to your lips, his tongue swipes over your bottom one as he gradually pushes you back into the lush grass, positioning himself between your legs.

“that’s because our release is fuelled by the fires that burn in our hearts,” the prince explains, pulling away from your lips to whisper in your ear. now that you’ve tasted me, it’s time i mark your beautiful little cunt.” 

you gasp as the tips of his thick cock brush as your entrance, instinctively locking your thighs around his hips. your chest rises and falls with the anticipation of having taehyung, the man you love, claim you. you’re in love, you love taehyung with all your heart and now he was to make you his. sighs of adoration fill the air between you as taehyung slowly pushes into your virgin hole, of course, having more than one tip would make it hurt, but only just— making your nails dig into the skin at taehyung’s shoulder. 

he stops is movements, the prince knows that it will be difficult for your tiny human body to handle his stamina and size, after all, you had already cum once and were nearing exhaustion. “i’m sorry, my petal...my queen, i know it hurts,” he cooes, nosing at your neck to ease the pain. one hand curls in taehyung’s thick locks as he fully enters you with one tip of his cock, the second slowly slipping past the lips of your cunt. the dragon prince drops a hand to your clit, slowly rubbing in circles until the pleasure overrides the sting where you bleed. “you’re doing so well for me, taking all of my cock like the good queen you are.” 

taehyung waits for you to adjust as he continues to lazily flick at your bud, while you slowly start to open up for him like the roses at his mother’s place. “please...move taehyungie...move!” you mewl, throwing your head back into the soft grass as pleasure begins to overwhelm your senses.

the prince smiles down at you, taking in the the twisted look of delight against your delicate features and the curve of your breast as you arch your back. taehyung bottoms out inside of you, gently thrusting his length within your tight, dripping walls and closes his eyes at the sound of your sweet moans. you feel like you were made just for him, for him only and when he opens his eyes, he can’t help but lean down and claim your mouth, slipping his tongue past the barriers of your lips when you part them. 

“look at you, princess, so tight for me— your king,” he praises tenderly against your hips, dropping his face to your neck as you tighten around him involuntarily. “you’re mine, made for me and my cock. you got that princess?” 

“yours, yours my king.” you pant, fingertips dancing across the expanse of your lover’s freckled back.

taehyung deepens his thrusts, the spines on his cock catching against your slick walls as he reaches deeper inside of you. he sucks a little of bruises into your neck, purples, pinks and burgundies painting a picture of his love for you while he works their. your hips lift to match his thrusts, sucking him in as you both move together under the moonlight. the sounds of love filled moans and groans fills the cool air of the forest, long forgotten as taehyung pounds into you, letting you feel every inch of his cock. his grunts send shivers down your spine, making you arch your back into him. taehyung pushes your hips down, pushing his member into your sweet spot causing more of your juicies to gush down your wobbling thighs. 

you bite your lip in an attempt to silence your cries, an unexplainable wave of pleasure coursing through your veins as taehyung yanks your hips down to his. “s’good…please don’ stop,” you slur pathetically into the night, a sheen of sweat dousing your skin, the sound of your desperation making the head’s taehyung’s length twitch inside of you. he wasn’t sure how long he would last, with the way your virgin cunt clamped down on him like a vice. the tightness was almost unbearable, each thrust bringing him closer and closer to the edge. “need you, need you m-my king!” 

taehyung’s mop of hair drops to your collar bones as he bites on them to silence his growls of possession. “fuck me, princess, fuck,” he slurs, his cock swelling as if he’s about to burst. the first head of his member stimulating that special spot, while the other fills your needy hole. “wonder what your courts would say if they saw you like this, princess,” taehyung pants into your neck, one hand sliding between your bodies to stimulate your clit while the other grips your breast, as he leans against you, pressing his hips into yours. “saw their queen spread out for the dragon king so desperate and needy for his dragon cock...fuck baby, what would they say?” 

“t-they’d be ... ashamed!” you squeal, arching your back and lifting your hips to meet taehyung’s thrusts. 

he smirks, fucking into you harder, until you’re full to the brim and you can feel him deep in your womb. “but i wouldn’t be, m’ so proud of my princess for taking me like this...” taehyung pants, looking deep into your eyes, sweaty hair falling over his own amber irises. “cum with me, my love.” 

you grab and pull at taehyung, touching at skin hair and lips as your release starts to creep up on you. the pace of taehyung’s hips never slow but start to become sloppy as your senses become overwhelmed with him. the tips of his cock brush at your spot once more, making you scream with pleasure as the damn finally bursts and you cream on his member, painting him with your release as the first spirts of his cum fill your hole. “taehyung, tae..please,” you cry, soft tears springing in your eyes as he locks his gaze on yours, hips slowing to a grind as he pumps his thick, hot seed inside of you. there’s so much, never ending as his release gathers within your cunt, searingly hot as lewd sounds of your wetness’ mixing fills the air. “i love you...”

your words are barely above a whisper, tears of warmth and happiness spilling from your eyes as taehyung cups your cheeks and swoops down to kiss you lovingly. “i love you so much, more than anything.” he responds, never ending his onslaught of kisses. 

taehyung doesn’t soften inside you, making another wave of neediness wash over your body. he loved you, he loved you just as you did with him. the kisses become sweeter and sweeter, like the finest honey against your tongue and you smile against taehyung’s lips as he lifts you into his arms. “you love me.” it’s more of a statement than a question, but taehyung answers regardless, brushing strands of hair away from your face.

“i will always love you, beyond my dying breath.” 

the dragon scoops you up, carrying you to a nearby tree and leaning back against it, refusing to put you down despite your giggles and protests. you notice, from over his shoulder that moon lillies grow in place of the spot you made love in. “what’s that?” you ask quietly, as taehyung sits, turning you around gently in his lap and barely lifting you from his cock. 

he watches darkly as only small traces of his charcoal black cum seep from your cunt before he follows your gaze to the flowers. “those, moon lillies appear when a dragon has found his or her mate, in place of where they have mates for the first time.” he mumbles shyly, hiding his face in your neck and kissing the back of your shoulder. 

“let’s... let’s make more,” you whisper and admire the flowers that act as a symbol of your love. although your thighs still shake from your last two releases, you pull your hips forward and drag them back against taehyung’s lap, twitching around his length from the overstimulation. your turn your head to face the dragon prince from over your shoulder, watching as his chest heaves with pleasure. “make love to me, dragon king. make love to your queen.” 

taehyung’s hips twitch at your words, the ghost of his fingertips settling on your hips  before gripping them harshly, helping to move you back and forth against his cock. “as you wish my queen,” he mumbles, starting to move his own hips in time with yours. “you’re going to be the death of me, love.” 

taehyung bites down harshly on your shoulder as you begin to mewl, lifting yourself off of your cock and slamming your hips back down. the spines on taehyung’s cock stimulate your spasming, cum soaked walls, catching on each ridge and causing you to shiver. the forest is once more filled with the sound of skin slapping on skin, and a mixture of lost words and moans and ‘i love you’s. you are lost with taehyung, in a world of your own as he claims your cunt over and over again with each thrust. 

you circle your hips, clenching around the thick cock that stretches you open and gasp when one of taehyung’s heads slip out from your tight core. biting your lip, you take a finger and coat it in the remainder of your last orgasms and smear it against taehyung’s tip, thumbing it hardly. the prince groans, hips stuttering as he lets out a loud moan, thrusting into you at a faster pace and circling himself inside of you. “princess, please...fuck me.” 

“forever, my sweet.” you whisper, slapping the head against your cock before pushing it back into your entrance. you rock yourself back and forth, tears of pleasure stinging the corners of your eyes as your sensitive pussy pulses with want. you know, you will not last as long as the previous rounds, indicated by your throbbing clit and collapse forward against taehyung’s legs. the dragon takes this as an opportunity to slap his palm against your bare ass, watching the flesh jiggle at the contact. 

you squeal at the spank, sinking your fingers into the grass as taehyung repeats his ministrations on each of your cheeks. his cock swells with every desperate moan that passes from your lips, stretching your tight cunt open to accommodate for his cum. he wants to breed you, fuck you full of all of his dragon seed and watch your stomach swell at the heavy load. he wants you to have his children. with new found motivation and his orgasm closing in on him, taehyung grabs your hips and forces them down against his cock, slamming into you every time you come down against him. your abused hole drips with newfound wetness and remainders of taehyung’s hot seed as he pushes it further inside of you. 

the pace is wild, and heat flares up between you both as your bodies move together completely uncontrolled. “m gonna cum again...” you gasp as you feel taehyung pound repeatedly into your g-spot. “please, please fill me up.” 

“gonna cum with you princess, gonna breed you with my dragon pups,” taehyung practically whimpers, mumbling an i love you into the air. “gonna fill you up and fuck my cum deep inside you.” he rambles now as his thrusts become erratic. having his length nuzzled inside of you is what pushes taehyung over the edge, beating the feeling of endless hours of pleasuring himself during breeding seasons. he had never held or touched a woman in the way that he did with you. you were his first, and that was what made his heads fill you once more with a heavy load of his seed, shooting further into your cunt as you cream against him once more, pushing your hips down while his cum smears against your clit. “

“taehyungie!” 

you collapse against the grass, panting shakily as taehyung pulls you into his arms again, turning to lay on his side as he pulls you into his chest. he doesn’t remove himself from your body, keeping himself inside you as more of the glowing blue flowers begin to bloom around you. taehyung’s hand settles on your belly as his arms wrap around your waist, rubbing it in circles while he kisses your hair. everything is perfect, just as it is meant to be. you’re in love with the man you had dared yourself to kill, but could now only find it in you to lay with him under the stars. 

“i love you taehyung,” you say for the millionth time that night, drawing patterns into the hand that rests on your stomach. “i won’t ever love anyone else. i am yours and you are mine.” 

“we are one, YN.” taehyung adds, sweetly, holding you closer as you feel yourself start to drift into a sweet slumber. “and i will love you forever.” 

forever. 

you smile at the word, placing his hand over his as you finally fall into sleep. you stay with taehyung, in forest for a night or two, loving each other under the moon.

“and you will see to it that the dragon is captured and killed, immediately?” 

jungkook hesitates, a pause in the air at the prince’s request. when namjoon and the king had asked the young advisor to follow his queen out into the woods, he had never expected to see what he did. the nights where you would disappear for hours on end, coming home with scorch marks and ruffled hair all seemed to make sense now. you were with the dragon prince, the one who’s heart you had promised to capture. except, only you could not do it, you had been soft in the heart. a trait that lay with your deceased mother. 

jungkook had seen you take round after round of the dragon’s cock, wishing that he could be in place of the beastly creature. he hated how that thing claimed you like he had been trying to for years, he despised how he fisted himself to orgasm behind the trees as he watched you cum for the dragon, moan for the dragon, love for the dragon. jungkook hated himself for betraying you due to his own jealousy, he wanted to see the dragon pay for what it had done to his queen, his love. and although, the advisor was unsure of what namjoon planned to do with the information, jungkook knew the least he could do was set you back on the right path. 

he had already owed you this debt, in where he failed to warn you about namjoon. perhaps, he would make it up to you by freeing you from the dragon’s grip. 

“jungkook...”

“yes my liege, we will send our best troops to their location and have him captured within the next week or so...” the boy explains, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles nervously. why does guilt rein free in his mind? he was doing what was best for you. 

prince namjoon nods proudly, nodding his head and standing from his seat to leave the dining room. the prince had moved into the palace due to your absence over the last three days, presumably to take over rule as your father was too sick to do so. namjoon was brought in to have you wed before your father’s passing but the courts knew you were more than capable of doing so on your own. 

they just hated to see a women in power.

“you are dismissed, jungkook.” 

the young advisor nods his head gratefully, running a hand through his wavy locks and massaging his scalp to calm his guilt ridden mind. “what the fuck, jeon?” he mumbles to himself, starting walk back his quarters. he needed to be a lone, he needed time to convince himself that what he had done was right. jungkook could pretend that everything would be fine and maybe it would be. 

he paces down the twisting and winding halls of the castle, chest squeezing as he begins to feel trapped within the walls and lies. jungkook doesn’t even hear the call of his name. 

“jeongguk!” tamarae gasps, catching up to the young advisor. the boy freezes, the princess much resembled the queen before YN, her features her sloping and graceful and you could see shift in her eye colour of the light hit them just right. everyone had been in awe of tamarae since she was born, but she was no YN. he looks down at the girl, just a year younger than jungkook himself, and parts his lips to speak. they were aquatinted well, but never spoke more than a passing hello when YN was around. 

but he never gets a chance to speak. 

the princess’ hand falls sharply against his cheek, the connection is enough to send his head to the side. it is now, for the first time, that jungkook really looks at the young princess. her snow white hair is dishevelled and slightly out of place, dark eye bags beneath her usually glowing eyes and her skin has paled significantly. “how dare you?” tamarae seethes, stepping closer to jungkook and pointing a finger in his face. he flops guiltily, his actions coming to haunt him. “how dare you, give my sister’s location to that treacherous prince?”

“i’m doing what is in the best interest of our queen.” 

tamarae opens her mouth in shock, casting a glance up and down jungkook’s frame before taking a breath to calm herself. “what would you know about her best interests?” she begins, now poking a thumb into the firm of the advisor’s chest. “she is happy there, out in the woods in her clearing. he makes her happy.” a breath, “— but you’re so foolishly and selfishly in love with her, you would do anything to make her love you back. well, jeon jungkook...now she will never.” 

“tamarae, i—“

“and you slept with me, i let you wrestle me to bed in your quarters and make a woman of me,”  the princess starts to feel tears form in her eyes, breath becoming shaky and anger rising within her chest. “just so...so you could find where she is. i didn’t tell you, for you to hurt her. i told you because you’re her best friend...” 

jungkook is left, trembling with guilt as the princess turns away and heads back in the direction she came. 

he was desperately in love with you, but was too blind to see the love he was given too.

the feeling beneath taehyung’s skin is nothing like he has ever felt before. it’s a bristling pain that jabs at his flesh, pinches at his every fibre and burning away at his heart. 

it hurts, it pains him and he doesn’t know why. 

the servants strip him of his shirt, sweat licking his honey dipped abs as they douse him with cold spurts of water but nothing helps and the pain doesn’t cease. one places a stick between his teeth for him to clamp down on as they rub at his skin, trying to massage the pain away. instead the supposed, soothing feeling is replaced by a thousand small stabs to his flesh, almost to the point where tears pool in his ocean eyes. 

the double doors to his bedroom open suddenly, Queen elantris making an entrance as maids and servants alike withdraw from the heaving prince. his stares over at his mother as she dismisses all other personnel in the room, dropping his head back into his tangled sheets while he pants, eyes falling shut. 

“mother...”

“shh, my boy, you are in a lot of pain,” elantris hums quietly, brushing her son’s curled charcoal locks from his paling face.  the prince whines like a young dragon pup, the hurt becoming too much to bare. elantris looks down at her child, seizing the moment to rub a cooling herb mix against his chest, despite the growls and roars that emit from taehyung’s lips. she coos at him gently, once she’s done, whispering sweet words into his hair as he shivers in a cold sweat. the dragon queen had seen this once before, never as severe. her child was sick with a deep poison, known as love. 

“what’s happening to me?”

the tone of fear rings in taehyung’s voice as he roars, scales reappearing across his skin and eyes darkening into their golden state. his mother leans down and noses taehyung’s cheek, trying to ease him through the pain and coaches him through it despite the groans he lets out.

“you’ve imprinted, my love,” elantris whispers, linking their hands. “you’re in love, taehyung, with that human girl.” 

the boy gasps through his pain, feeling like a pup being caught stealing from the kitchen like when he was young. taehyung had known that he had always felt strongly towards you, felt strongly for the way your eyes sparkled under the moon and the way your smile shone brightly whenever the dragon had a new trick to show you. taehyung had known, all along, that he was in love with you. “how, how did you know?”

“i could smell her on you, taehyung,” elantris chuckles and releases her child’s hand, helping him to sit. “i may be old but i am not a fool. you have learned to forgive, unlike those of our ancestors. you must go to her, the girl and the closer you are to her, the less pain you will be in.” she hums. “you just go to her.” 

the prince stretches his limbs, a cool slick sliding over his skin. “i will, i love her.” 

the clearing.

when you thought of the clearing, you thought of happiness and love. your love, with taehyung that bloomed solely under the night of the stars but another that grew strongly inside of you. the news you had for taehyung sent a series of fire works bursting in your chest, coursing through your veins— this could be it, could be what could end all the suffering and consequences, letting yourself and your prince be together. 

the familiar sent of sweet moon lily fills your nostrils, easing your nerves as you approach the clearing, your love. the sky is clear above your head, milky pink like the roses your mother used to weave into your hair. you like to believe, that she would be excited for you, looking down at you from the constellations above with joy.  this was not always your plan, but you would not let this get in your way of becoming queen. 

you take care with your steps, unlike times before this, wearing your traditional warrior fit makes the journey easier.  you want to be careful and prevent any harm to what is to come — but suddenly, the air around you feels different, thick with smoke and heavy with  an eerie vibe. something is off, something is wrong. 

peeking through the leaves you spot several men, heavily armed with swords and arrows, in a uniform you do not recognise. upon closer inspection— you notice the emblem on the crest of a soldier from your kingdom . these are your people, men from your army. 

in your clearing. 

rushing forward, you burst from the trees and slap a hand over your mouth at the site. the dragon prince, fully shifted into his beautiful dragon transformation is hooked to the ground with thick metal chains that rub at his skin. taehyung roars, in pain, in fear, you cannot tell and panic begins to rise in your chest, clawing at your throat and tearing at your insides. 

they had found him.

the beast sniffs the air once, twice, the bones in his back cracking as he fights to stand—pulling the men that held him back, off of the ground. yellowed eyes tilt towards you, barely hidden in your precious spot as the prince tries to rip free and expose you. he could sense your presence, your emotions and desperately needed to be with you, he needed you to know about the imprint. 

but before taehyung can reach you, a guard calls and has you on your knees in a second, many others spearing your lover to get him under control. tears sting in your eyes as the first drops of his blood hit the pure grass beneath your knees, where you had made love for the first time, where you were supposed to be safe. 

“taehyung!” you scream, attempting to rip yourself away from the men, your men... that hold you down. it’s almost as if you can feel every pierce of taehyung’s flesh as he roars out for you. yanking your arm free, you attempt to stand, but your pathway is blocked by a pair of black boots and a talk slender figure.  your wobbling lip turns to a sneer, gaze darkening as you look to him. “you...”

namjoon smirks, kneeling down to your height as your own men hold you down. “hello, my queen,” he hums, eyeing your sweat streaked face and angry expression. the man lifts your chin with his forefinger, tilting your head to look up at you. taehyung’s chest rumbles possessively as the latter male’s hands slip to clip your jaw tightly. “you seem to be right on time, love. you’re about to witness the true harvesting of a dragon heart.” 

a flare of outrage ignites in your chest as you lunge forward, biting at namjoon’s finger so hard that you draw blood, while vexed tears cloud your vision. the pink haired prince pulls back, holding his hand tightly in pain. “unhand me.” you breathe heavily, staring up at the men beside you, holding you down and betraying you. “unhand me by order of your princess.” you muster up a stern expression, although your lip wobbles and your eyes water as the pain of your lover courses through your veins. you had not known it was possible to feel so connected, so in tune with someone before. but you understood now, that this was love. love was not your mother and father arguing during nights, where hoseok would cover yourself and your sister’s ears, love was not tolerating and suppressing your bitter hatred for your father. love was not war. love was taehyung. 

the men look to namjoon for guidance as you thrash within their grip, he simply shakes out his wounded hand and stalking towards you, before landing a harsh slap across your face. your head whips to the side, your chest heaving in shock while your lover growls in the distance.  

“i’m afraid they cannot do that your highness,” namjoon spits, pushing you down into the soil. you clutch at your stomach protectively, glowering at the prince. “you father has handed all authority over to me, after your absence for the last two nights. the court has ruled you, unfit to rule until we marry.” 

the prince then turns to the dragon, signalling for his minions to tighten the chains around taehyung. “and he shall be executed in consequence of your action. for imprinting on our queen, like the filthy creature he is.” 

it feels like your world is collapsing, and you are falling underneath the surface. but you cannot give in, you cannot give namjoon the satisfaction of your favour without a fight. you cannot lose taehyung. you close your eyes and swallow thickly, remembering what your mother had instilled in you. every battle has a way to be won. 

“unhand me,” you repeat, steadying your breath. “and i will go with you willingly.” namjoon only chuckles deeply, shaking his head so you take action. ripping yourself from the men behind you, you kick your leg out and take the men down by swipe their feet out from underneath them. elbowing a soldier in the nose and snatching your sword from its sheath, burying it in the chests of two traitors. rolling your shoulders back, you kick down two more men and stay light on your toes. 

you aim for the prince next. 

taking a running sprint, you thrust your sword towards him, barely slicing his cheek as you pant heavily. “release the dragon, and i will spare you,” you seethe through gritted teeth, watching your wounded lover from over namjoon’s shoulder. “don’t be a foolish man, my prince.” you mock, venomously.

“i see that carrying a child has softened your mindset, princess YN,” namjoon comments softly, pushing the blade away from his throat. how could he know? who could have told him? your confident demeanour falters slightly, but you do not allow yourself to slip, holding up your blade again. “the castle maids talk, you show early signs. disgraceful, how you are willing to bare the child of the beast that killed your mother—“ the prince remains cool and collected whilst your resolve starts to crumble, he wins. taehyung wails for you in the background, weakening as you begin to shake. “you will marry me, tomorrow at sunset if you wish for child to be speared. i feel no remorse for ending two lives tonight.” 

the world around you begins to spin lightly, taehyung calling for you to stay strong. namjoon had won, he had you exactly where he wanted you, and there was nothing more you could do. “very well,” you whisper, dropping your gaze along with your mothers sword. “we shall be wed.”

you had never been to a wedding, if you had, you may have been too young to remember. sometimes, if you were lucky enough to hear, your mother would tell you of her own, her white dress and wolf furs, her pearl crown imported from across the sea. when she explained to you, brushing your hair and tying it neatly before bed, she had never smiled, never grinned at the thought of a royal feast. her face had always been void. 

you now, realise why. 

today you would marry, to a man you bared no feelings for. today you would marry out of duty and out of the love you had for someone else. you realise, being older and less naive, that your mother, the queen— married your father as a debt to her kingdom. 

“you look beautiful, YN...” your sister offered, taking over for the maid in weaving flowers into your hair. orchids. the national flower of namjoon’s kingdom. the smell was too sweet, sickly to the point where you felt you would heave. they were everywhere, in your hair and your bouquet, in gifts given by royals from other kingdoms— you hated it. a constant reminder of what you had to lose. tamarae notes your silence, stopping her hands that move to fix hair that has already been tucked into place. “please, say something...”

you blink twice in response, parting your lips as if the words will come on their own — but you’re hollow inside, a ghost of who you once were. there were no more tears to cry, or screams to let out. all of those had passed in the cold night, when your sister held you as you cried because your child would grow without the father they needed. because you were going to lose your love. tamarae sinks to her knees before you, creasing the sweet powder blue dress that she wore. her hand take yours, squeezing it gently as if to remind you that you’re still a person, you still feel. 

“you don’t have to do this,” she whispers hoarsely, white hair falling over her face to shield her from the world. her bottom lip trembles as tears slip down her cheeks— she had lost her mother, her brother and now her sister. what more could she lose? “you don’t have to...”

for the first time in hours, you make a movement...your face twitches into a sad smile as you cup your sister’s cheeks and hold her close. tamarae’s face finds the tule of your wedding dress, trying her best not to stain the expensive fabric imported from namjoon’s kingdom, not that you cared much for it. “i have to, for you and for the people. our people. they have lost faith in me, and they need me—“ you swallow sharply, no more tears. “they need me to show them i care for our people, i care for this war...”

“i don’t want to lose you...”

“you won’t.”

the door bursts open, yourself and your sister jumping apart at the sudden entrance. jungkook inhales deeply, eyes flickering between the two princesses before tamarae scoffs and parts ways with you but not before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

she shoves past the boy, maids flurrying after her, leaving yourself and the advisor alone. he is the first to speak. “YN, my queen, you’re stunning-“ 

“no,” you interject, looking up at your old friend, coldly. “don’t speak. you don’t get to speak today or i’ll have you executed for treason.” you punctuate your every word, begging yourself to keep it together because if you cry now, jungkook will be the only one to comfort you. your best friend, the man who betrayed you, silences himself, before it’s too late. “you don’t get to say a word, not after what you did to me. not after betraying my trust.” 

“YN, i-“ 

“please,” you hiccup this time, the air in your lungs being sucked away from you with every passing second. jungkook is here to walk you down the isle, towards the man that will only abuse his power of you and your people. jungkook is the reason you are walking this path. “please don’t say anymore. have you not said enough? given away my secrets, out of love you say?” jungkook falters, every fibre in his being screaming out at him to comfort you, but his love for you did this, he destroyed the strong girl he once knew. “then your love is truly misplaced- i have loved you, jeongguk...but only ever as a friend. you used that against my sister, which i truly cannot forgive. so please do not say anymore than you must, for your words only ever hurt us.” 

jungkook bites his lip and nods, offering his arm to you to lead you down to the ceremony. he watches you with sad eyes, but a kind smile, sighing heavily when you return his with a watery one. 

if he had not loved you, this would not have happened. if he had not loved you, he would still have his friend.

the sun is coloured a shade of honey, ribbons of its light casting a warm hue against your skin. sunsets like this are rare, beautiful and not to be taken for granted— they remind you of sweet days with taehyung, his curled hair buried in your neck and his soft giggle filling the air. sunsets reminded you of your love for taehyung.

you watch the sun dip it’s toes into the navy blue of the water, just behind the prince’s head at the end of the isle. namjoon had wanted a wedding by the sea, with enough room for all of your people along with visitors from kingdoms far away. he wanted sea air and a fresh breeze, he wanted open waters, clear enough to see the dye of taehyung’s blood when he executed the dragon prince after the ceremony. he wanted it all, and you wanted to escape. your stomach twists and turns, as the orchestra begin to strum a wedding tune. this isle was not a path to happiness, but one to your death. 

to the people of your kingdom, saw you as a beautiful bride but you saw yourself as a ghost of a human being. jungkook holds you by the arm, steadying your steps as he walks you towards your doom, your own funeral. your own father couldn’t even give you away, too drunk to even stand. you scowl at him as you pass his pew, accompanied by your sweet sister. 

if you had it your way, it would be taehyung at the end of the isle, dressed in his kingdom’s traditional fits as he gave you that toothy grin. his eyes would light up as your brother gave you away, and your mother’s light shined on you from above. taehyung would take your hand firmly in his, slip on the ring and tell you how much he loved you. the dress that you wore would be off at the end of the night, as you made love to one another. but now, here you were, reaching the dreaded prince namjoon, as he smirked at you greasily. 

jungkook gave you a tight, apologetic squeeze before handing you over to namjoon, shielding his face once he joined the rest of the crowd. your gaze slowly shifts to namjoon, hating the way he looked at you, when the ground beneath your feet starts to shake and you hear the pained cry of your love. “taehyung...” you whisper, standing on your tip toes to find him. over the shoulder of the prince, you spot the dragon shivering from pain behind the alter. 

he spasms in his chains, wrists red and sore whilst purple bruises litter his tanned honey skin. he whimpers our for you, causing tears to well in your eyes. all you can do is watch helplessly as the dragon steadies his laboured breathing. small tears slip down your cheeks, streaming through the layers of make up that you wore— the pink haired prince lowers his lips to your ear level. “take a good look, my princess, for this will be the last chance you will ever get.” the prince chuckles, pouting at you mockingly. 

with watery eyes, you glance back at the dragon prince, watching as he falls weak at namjoon’s proximity to his imprint. the injuries taehyung sustained over the time had weakened his dragon transformation, the scales that patched his skin were becoming dull as he bled from wounds here and there. the only way for him to heal would be to be near you again. 

sucking in a deep breath, you blink away the oncoming tears and replace them with a bright smile. smile for the people, smile for your family. “of course, my king,” you say with wobbling words. be strong, you chant. 

the ceremony begins with namjoon’s consent, rushing by with your mind focused on your lover. he’s hurting, in pain and all you want to do his hold him, ease him through it all. you cannot focus, sick to the stomach of what is to come, will you live out the same fate as your mother?  bare beautiful children from the seed of a hateful man. will he ruin your kingdom? what your mother had worked hard to build? this couldn’t be your legacy. 

“and do you, princess YN LN of the  Phantis empire, take prince namjoon of the Kevimore kingdom— to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health...as long as you both shall live?” the minister’s words fly over your head, your mouth suddenly feeling dry and the air in your lungs no longer present. 

namjoon leans down to whisper into your ear, warningly. “YN...” 

“i-“ you hesitate, saying yes would mean taehyung would be executed sooner and you couldn’t bare to lose the only love you’ve ever had. namjoon’s arms snake around your waist, pulling you into him, causing taehyung to fall to his knees behind your shoulder, ocean eyes full of tears. he can’t lose his soulmate, not now, not ever. “i’m...”

the words formulate on your lips, the pressure weighing down on your shoulders. 

“stop the wedding!” 

you clutch at your chest, relief flooding through you as the crowd turns their attention to the oncoming voice. an armoured soldier and his men, enter the ceremony eliciting gasps and stares of the congregation, you take the opportunity to slip from namjoon’s slimy grip, while they create a distraction. 

“who do you think you are?” namjoon scowls, stepping forward and pointing an accusing finger at the intruder. “interrupting an officiated ceremony, what authority do you have over a drunken king and his weak daughter?” 

the soldier dismounts from his horse, stepping forward to the middle of the isle and removes his helmet— revealing the similar sloped and heart shaped features of your elder brother. “hoseok,” tamarae calls, stealing the words from your very lips. you watch as your younger sister rushes into his arms, the reunion warming your numbed heart. 

the red heard clutches your sibling close, pressing a kiss to her hair in a protective fashion before glaring daggers into namjoon. if looks could kill the prince would be five miles under. the soldier’s namjoon has under his rein, bend the knee to their rightful prince, giving you time to make a dash for taehyung before he collapses to his side. 

“prince hoseok... what—what are you doing here?”

the man in question raises a brow, ordering his men to take namjoon into custody. “the war is over, with word of my sister’s union with dragon prince-“ hoseok nods his head over to you, smirking as the latter male is brought to his knees in front of the entire court. “— spread across the battle field, man and mythical creature alike have found a way to bring peace,” the eldest sibling makes his way toward the pink haired prince and drawing his sword up to the other’s chin. “and next time...you will think twice before treating my sister, thinking you have power over us all. she is stronger and a much better leader than you will ever be. so stand, take your men and leave before i have your head.” 

namjoon nods vigorously, clearing himself and the ceremony up as you sniff thankfully, turning your attention to the dragon prince. as soon as you hold him in your arms, taehyung collapses, barely breathing as you come into his field of view. his perfect lips are dry and slightly cut, a gash along his brow that will surely scar and purple, burgundy bruises just under his ribs where his wings would be. he looks bad, but your dragon has never looked better. “t-tae...my love, it’s okay..hold on for me, please?” you whisper, brushing his hair back as his eyes flutter open and closed. “please don’t go, don’t leave me now...”

the dragon prince open and closes his mouth, head rolling as you move it into your lap. biting back tears, you brush your curls through his now silver locks, faded from the pain most likely. “don’t leave us, taehyung. don’t you dare.” you add, hoseok ordering servants and men to help give you the medical help that you. you can’t bare to part from your love now, chest heaving with your cries as the dragon slips in and out of consciousness. 

“you’re with a child...” he manages to mumble, gripping your hand tightly as his lips form a slight smile. “i could never leave my soulmate, my imprint behind.” 

your heart lifts, taehyung had told you tales of imprints only once— when his mother and father met, they couldn’t stand to be away from one another... in far too much pain. the story helped you believe in love. an imprint is when a dragon finds their mate, their one true love...and taehyung had found that in you. 

“i love you, taehyung.” 

“and i, love you.” 

you let go of his hand, allowing hoseok’s men to whisk your dragon prince away before going to reunite with your siblings. pulling off your veil, you open your arms to join hoseok and tamarae’s hug, nuzzling into them. “we’ll be okay, right?” your little sister asks, nearing tears.  this would be the first time, the three of you have held each other since hoseok left for war.

“we will be,” your brother promises, kissing your hair sweetly. “we always will be.” 

a year later, you find yourself dressed in another gown. the same fabric as your mother’s from her own coronation, emerald green silk made by those in the village embroiled with crystals from the caves of taehyung’s very own kingdom. your smile shines brightly as your younger sister fixes your hair around the crown you wear, diamond encrusted, silver plated, like the one your mother was. “sister, if you don’t stop moving, you’re going to miss your presentation to the public,” tamarae scolds you, stepping back when she’s finished with her work. “as queen.” 

“queen— that does sound delightful, don’t you think?” you tease, touching at your makeup gently before snaking your lips. tamarae rolls her eyes and pushes your shoulder gently, mumbling something about seeing you out there. over the course of the year, your father had stepped down from his position in the court allowing you to take the lead on your path to queen while you and taehyung reunified the human and magic worlds. after he recovered, you married taehyung in the dead of the night, under the stars in his kingdom, with blessing from his mother and today, you had finally been coronated as queen. 

“incoming!” a voice called, bringing a babbling baby into the room. your smile widened as jimin, the Phoenix and taehyung’s most trusted advisor stepped in, bringing over your daughter of three months. “taehyung is being dressed at the moment, hoseok is doing a cover of the grounds and jungkook,” jimin lists— adjusting cahira, your baby, in your arms. her name meaning, warrior. “he’s setting up things out front on the balcony.” 

“thank you, jimin,” you nod, bouncing your sweet girl before dismissing your husband’s advisor. 

after namjoon was punished for an attempt at overthrow, you managed to salvage your friendship with jungkook, only to the distain of your husband (it took several growling matches and attempts to calm him down before he let your advisor anywhere near you). but nonetheless, you couldn’t help but turn to mush as you watched over your baby, cahira’s eyes were large and bright like yours, taking on the blue colour of taehyung’s. her black hair was curled, with a patch of white from your mother’s side. her nose was most definitely yours, however. taehyung said that from her early months, it was impossible to tell whether she would show traits of a dragon or not, you would have to wait until her first tooth to see. 

but you knew, just by looking at your young princess— she was made to be a queen, just like you and her grandmother before you. 

“i love the way you look at her, like she is all that there is to the world,” your king grins from the doorway, moving over and bending down slightly to play with his daughter’s tiny hands. it truly is a sight to see, a large and mighty beast, cooing at his tiny baby girl. “hi there, cahira...it’s your daddy!” you sweep over your husband, taking in his floppy hair and his tight fitting black blazer that’s spiralled with silver patterns to match your dress. the ash haired dragon preens happily, primal instincts kicking in while he occupies himself with his daughter on your hip, before looking up at you through the curtain of his hair.  “and i must say, i do enjoy the way you look at me as well.” 

shaking your head, you lean down to meet taehyung’s sweet lips, wiping the small smirk off of his face,” a look of adoration, for the people i love most in this world.” you say, standing straight as your lover takes you into his arms, mindful of the giggling baby between you. “i am happy like this, with you.” 

“i am happy with you, completely and utterly in love with you, and my daughter,” taehyung whispers into your hair, kissing it. “we ended the war, and finally received the happy ending that we deserved.”  you stand in the middle of the throne room, just off of the balcony, listening to the chants and calls of your people— both yours and taehyung’s, in the distance. the war had been ended, your love had united the people and your people finally brought together. 

your maids enter the room, opening the doors to the balcony as jungkook comes through to salute you. taehyung separates from you, lacing your fingers together— allowing you to catch glimpse of the wedding rings you both wore. together, for an eternity. 

“ready to face the world, my love?” taehyung asks, taking cahira from your arms and settling her on his hip. “my queen?” 

you stand on your tiptoes, adjusting the matching crown on his head. you thought that you would never rule with a man by your side, and you didn’t need one. but taehyung would never take away from you as a woman, you were his queen and you always would be. you smile brightly, squeezing his palm and nod. “with you, i always will be.” you answer, taking his hand and stepping out towards your future. 

you had once wanted to hold a dragon’s heart, little did you know, he would be holding yours instead. 

⇢ author’s note(s): hi everyone! thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this fic, i think im most proud of this project and so, in the future im thinking of doing some kind of spin off seires/drabble collection, let me know what you guys think? feedback is always appreciated :D

[ot3]

Sorry to bother - feel free to ignore. I’m trying to write an orv fic bc. I like them. And I’m having trouble understanding why with the regression depression it’s the happy memories that get yjh the most. Best I can figure it’s bc he can use the bad memories to propel him forward - like he’s doing this to avenge them. But the good memories force him to realize these people are gone and he’ll never see them again. Do you have any thoughts? Thanks!

i think that's definitely more or less accurate! i think the 'those people are gone and he'll never see them again' bit you've pointed out is the critical piece here. ill stick my further thoughts below the cut. this is really long because i've pulled a LOT of long chunks of text from the novel to shore up this point. i just got home from work so my thoughts are gonna be a little bit incoherent here. skip to the end if you're not interested in reading all the segments i pulled from the text. spoilers all the way up through chapter 508

first things first, let's just go back to the novel and look at all the bits where YJH's depression gets brought up

“Maybe Yoo Jonghyuk-nim has already repeated a few lives. You have fought against terrible enemies and struggled against the beings of this world to save people. Enduring alone, lonely memories… We respect your sublime spirit.”

This jerk, such skillful flattery. Yoo Jonghyuk would be moved to tears if he heard. Later when he was depressed, I would have to tell him these words.

“But Yoo Jonghyuk-nim should’ve realized it from your past regressions. Even if you have an outstanding miracle, you alone can’t fight against the disasters that will come.”

Plus, he was right.

- from ch 48

「 Everything is twisted because of this person. 」

「 It is different from what I know in the earlier regressions. The amount of information available is too limited. I can’t save the world like this. 」

What was this?

「 The reason I was hurt by the Salvation Church was because we spent too much time in the last round. It was a mistake to train for 100 years then. My mind was permanently damaged. 」

「 Maybe it was a mistake not to get the Absolute Throne.  」

「 I will start from the beginning again… 」

Dammit, the regressor’s depression had begun. Was it due to the mental attack? I cried out in fear of what he would decide. “I’m hurt you jerk!”

- from ch 140

「 Those people can’t save the world, even with 100 trucks. 」

「 Once again, the answer is regression… 」

“Now now, our Supreme King isn’t in a good mood right now so back off. Do you want to die?” I personally stepped forward to get rid of any causes of depression.

- later on in ch140 as well

This jerk, he was always so impatient. He had been given time to rest but he was still busy thinking. Regardless of his depressed state, Yoo Jonghyuk was Yoo Jonghyuk.

“Before that, let’s take a moment to breath. The view is great.” I said while sitting on the roof railing.

Yoo Jonghyuk asked me, “What are you up to?”

“I’m just looking at the world. Isn’t it beautiful?” The city of Seoul was destroyed by the monsters. I quickly added, “It was originally a beautiful place.”

“I don’t like landscapes.”

“Why?”

“They are things that will disappear someday.”

I thought I had a bit more understanding of the third regression Yoo Jonghyuk after fighting against Shin Yoosung. I wanted to believe he was a person who could love this world without giving up or feeling despair.

I told him, “However, we need to protect these things.”

“Kim Dokja, you don’t know.”

This might be my misunderstanding. Yoo Jonghyuk could give up at any time because he was still in the midst of his regressions.

In the end, Yoo Jonghyuk’s purpose was to prevent the ‘destruction of this world.’ Paradoxically, he could give up on this world at any time. His essence was regression and this fact would never change.

“No, I know,” I replied.

“What?”

“The fact that you can regress at any time means that death is meaningless.”

I looked down at Lee Seolhwa caring for the injured. Lee Seolhwa was feeding her boiled soup to an unknown person. Despite her efforts, there was a high probability that the character would die. Even if they lied now, they would die tomorrow. If they miraculously survived tomorrow, they would die the day after tomorrow.

It was the same in the fourth regression and the fifth regression. There would always be ‘death’ in the world of Yoo Jonghyuk, even after passing the 100th regression.

“If there is no sense of death then the value of life also disappears.”

- ch141

There was the vague belief that he could do better in the next round with more information. It was easy for him to give up on this regression if something went wrong.

This was the precursor symptom of ‘regression depression.’ Some of the contents of Ways of Survival passed through my head.

It was around the 48th regression. Yoo Jonghyuk had consulted with an incarnation of the constellation ‘Discoverer of the Subconscious’ on the ‘regression depression.’ At the time, he seemed to be speaking like I was now.

I continued speaking, “Yes. It might be as you say. If you repeat it 10 or 20 times then it will surely get better. You’ll be exposed to more scenarios and see more of the future. The real problem is when you someday save the world in this manner.”

“What does this mean?”

“At that time, do you really think you saved this world?”

“…”

“Do you think you will be able to keep the same mindset after repeating it 100 or 200 times?”

“I won’t regress that many times.”

I silently stared at Yoo Jonghyuk.

「 …Don’t tell me? 」 Yoo Jonghyuk’s eyes slowly widened.

I kept speaking, “Are you having nightmares these days?”

“…”

“You won’t be saved, even if you save the world. The moment you save the world, the worlds you have forsaken will come to you. Despite saving one world, all the other worlds you abandoned will drag you to hell.”

- from further down in ch141

「 Yoo Jonghyuk felt lonely as he saw these watches. They got their time back but he still wasn’t

living in this time. Yoo Jonghyuk suddenly thought. If so, where do I live in those countless hours? 」

It was the monologue of Yoo Jonghyuk, who once saved the Demon World. It was also one of my favourite scenes from Ways of Survival.

I suddenly seemed to understand a bit of his mind. To the regressor Yoo Jonghyuk, the time in these worlds didn’t belong to him. In a life that could go back over and over again, the present time was meaningless.

Once this was over, I would ask Aileen to make me a watch. If he had something like this, he might become more attached to this world. Maybe the regression depression would get better…

- ch 207

A person who regressed more than a thousand times. A spirit that had become insensitive from the hundreds of suicides and tragedies that an individual could suffer. The extremely widespread regression depression…

「 Yoo Jonghyuk of the 1863rd round is the despair of the world itself. 」

- ch 285

Abnormal condition? There was no way. Who was the 1863rd regression Yoo Jonghyuk? This was Yoo Jonghyuk who was the Ruler of the East Hell and killed the Devil of Principles. There was no one among the constellations who could place an abnormal condition on the present Yoo Jonghyuk.

Yoo Jonghyuk’s eyes were blank.

I felt uncomfortable like something was stuck in my throat. No, there was. There was only one person who could cause an abnormal status in Yoo Jonghyuk.

+

* The target is suffering from ‘regression depression’ due to an unknown cause.

+

It was Yoo Jonghyuk himself.

Regression depression. The spirit of the man who had been broken over 1863 lives made the regression depression almost a passive, low level skill. Once he fell into the depression, his consciousness was caught in the weight of his memories and he couldn’t wake up.

[Kill him! He isn’t invincible!]

The ruthless strikes caused Yoo Jonghyuk’s body to bleed little by little. It was strange. Originally, the regression depression shouldn’t occur in this situation. In the 1863rd round, Yoo Jonghyuk had learnt how to manage this disease.

- ch 286

then this REALLY LONG BIT from 287. it has stopped letting me indent for some reason so i guess ill bold this.

I knew how to wake up Yoo Jonghyuk from his regression depression. In other words, it meant I also knew how to sink him deeper into that melancholy.

I saw Yoo Jonghyuk’s fingertips moving and opened my mouth. “Do you remember? The 33rd round. You cleared the 40th scenario and Lee Jihye said this.”

Yoo Jonghyuk’s eyes dimmed and his moving fingertips stopped.

「 “It would be nice if Master didn’t have to go to the next round.” 」

“Think about it. You weren’t always unhappy. Right? In all the rounds, there were moments when you were happy.”

Yoo Jonghyuk’s expression was becoming stiffer.

“The 173rd round. You protected Earth for quite some time. You also saw Lee Jihye receiving her high school diploma and Lee Seolhwa smiling at someone’s child.”

「 “Jonghyuk-ssi, are you happy that you’re alive?” 」

Every time I spoke, Yoo Jonghyuk’s expression collapsed. It wasn’t despair that broke down Yoo Jonghyuk.

“The 383rd round. You finally cleared the 75th scenario. Fortunately, nobody died in that round. That was the first time. Then Lee Hyunsung told you.”

「 “Jonghyuk-ssi, I won’t forget today until I die.” 」

The feather-like memories sank into his head.

“Then the 498th round…”

Yoo Jonghyuk’s palms moved to cover his ears. The usual Yoo Jonghyuk wouldn’t have fallen from this much. Now it was different. I held his hands and kept talking. “That happened 10 times.”

A human sank deeper into the water just because of the weight of these feathers.

“Twenty times.”

My breath clogged up and my lungs tightened. I could feel what Yoo Jonghyuk was going through. Only I could feel it. The most primitive darkness at the bottom of one person was swallowing his ego greedily.

“100 times. It repeated over 1,000 times.”

All those words were destroyed. All the happy memories flowed back to a time they could never return to. Through the countless regressions, the meaning of happiness faded. All the values he preserved became pieces of torn paper.

“Yoo Jonghyuk.”

Yoo Jonghyuk’s self was sinking into the deep sea. It was to a place that he could never come up from without someone’s help.

“Have you protected all the things you wanted to keep?”

I looked at Yoo Jonghyuk’s miserable face and thought: Don’t worry Yoo Jonghyuk. I’ll do the rest. You stop and rest.

[Your understanding of the character ‘Yoo Jonghyuk’ is increasing explosively.]

Yoo Jonghyuk’s empty eyes were showing memories of losing his master. I didn’t use Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint but it wasn’t hard to read.

「 I want to die. 」

「 I want to finish all of this. 」

「 If only I can never wake up. 」

A few drops of rain fell from the sky. It was black rain made from the blood of the demon kings and constellations. Liquid also flowed onto Yoo Jonghyuk’s face. Yoo Jonghyuk’s gaze lowered and finally fell on me.

I was looking at the moment a human’s spirit collapsed. There was a broken voice. Like a creaking machine, Yoo Jonghyuk stammered, “Wh,at… should, I, d…o?”

i think this one is obviously very important.

then, the 'have you protected all you wanted to protect' stuff obviously reaches its culmination in the finale

⸢The regression depression.⸥

That was the only weakness of Yu Jung-Hyeok, who had repeatedly regressed for a very long time.

[In the 173rd turn. You managed to protect Earth for a pretty long time. You got to see Yi Ji-Hye receive her high school diploma, and you even got to see Yi Seol-Hwa smile with another’s child in her arms.]

The light in Yu Jung-Hyeok’s eyes was wavering.

⸢It wasn’t despair that could defeat Yu Jung-Hyeok.⸥

⸢Small feather-like memories settled down inside his head one by one.⸥

The ‘Dokkaebi King’ was using the exact same method I relied on back then.

⸢The breathing got harder, and the lungs were getting tighter.⸥

⸢A man drowning in water would sink even deeper under the surface from the weight of a mere feather.⸥

I couldn’t afford to idly watch on anymore. I shouted at Yu Jung-Hyeok, telling him to wake up, and not to fall for such an illusion.

However, my voice couldn’t reach them as if a non-conductive barrier was set up between us. And the ‘Dokkaebi King’ was smiling away, perhaps to mock this entire story.

[Yu Jung-Hyeok, have you protected all that you wanted to protect?]

Slowly, Yu Jung-Hyeok’s knees sank down.

I roused the Status of Fables. I needed to undo that ⸢Stage Transformation⸥ right now, But, how should I…

Grab.

There was a hand still tightly clutching mine. It was Han Su-Yeong.

“That’s not a battle you can interfere in.”

“But, if he’s left alone….!”

“….Even a star that can’t be seen still emits light. You said that, right?”

….A star that can’t be seen?

Her words made me look back at Yu Jung-Hyeok once more.

His gaze being lowered had come to a stop. Blinding sparks were completely enveloping him.

Tsu-chuchuchuchu….

Something was waking up his fading consciousness.

[Great Fable, ‘Ones that Remember the Apocalypse’, has begun its storytelling!]

That was a Fable I wasn’t aware of.

As the sparks lessened gradually, several silhouettes revealed themselves. Now that I took a closer look, Yu Jung-Hyeok wasn’t alone. No, four others were standing beside him.

A tall man, a young man with blonde hair, a girl with a ponytail, and finally…

[[He couldn’t protect anyone. That’s why he now stands in this place.]]

….An Archangel with blindingly-pure wings.

Astonishment quickly dyed the Dokkaebi King’s expression.

The Fable from the destroyed 999th turn was now burning brightly like the conflagration of end times on the edges of the Archangel’s blade.

[[Because he believes there are still things left to protect.]]

- from ch 508

Now here's a couple of tidbits about depression when it comes up for Other entities:

The fastest thing to get shaved away after becoming a Constellation was their own ‘Fable’. The more a Constellation depleted its story, the weaker its power would get. They would grow bored, disinterested, fall into depression, or lose themselves in tedium.

Constellations would desperately seek out other Fables in order to escape from such a quagmire. In other words, they would search for a new tragedy to escape from this horrible eternal cycle, even if it was only for a brief moment.

- ch 498

⸢[Constellation, ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’s’ ■■ is ‘Something that can’t be found’.]⸥

I had read what his ■■ was from the original novel. His description showed up when he became Yu Jung-Hyeok’s ally for a little while during the 1863rd turn.

⸢The evil dragon suffering from the worst possible depression in this <Star Stream>.⸥

The reason why the ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ believed his age to be 15 was simply that he’d not be able to continue on if he didn’t.

A life stretching for thousands, no, tens of thousands of years, made an originally solitary dragon into such a creature.

In order to stop itself from decaying, he chose not to age. He chose not to lose his curiosity of the world. He chose to torment Incarnations or play bizarre pranks. And for his final prank, he even chose to betray the ‘Absolute Evil’, too. He stood on Yu Jung-Hyeok’s side and while mocking the <Star Stream>, breathed his last.

- ch 503

okay so

i think there are a couple of different ways to look at the regression depression in line with each of orv's 'themes'. of course despair at losing his comrades is the main primary emotion here, but there's subtler stuff going on here too.

for starters, the foundational components of any creature within the star stream is its stories. the more your stories are known and shared the more powerful they are, etc, etc. time and time again their shared stories are the thing to save them and ground them. but as we see with the hellscape of eternity, yjh begins to become isolated from the interpersonal aspect of the story as he loses the people he originally formed these stories with. the stories are how people communicate. as YJH progresses through his regressions he is unable to relate to the 'story' in the way you are supposed to, and this essentially causes a complete ego death. life no longer has any meaning for him, because he is fundamentally incapable of connecting with people. the [impossible communication] of a life and a burden that can't be shared.

then there's the [samsara] aspect - being worn down by the endless repetition of fate. everything is the same, over and over again, and yet we still delve into it hoping to get something new out of it. maybe the story will be different this time. ABFD was able to stave off depression by keeping himself in a state of permanent novelty - there was still something left to discover - but as YJH progresses through the regressions and falls deeper and deeper into repeating the same pattern, the tedium becomes too much. he has nothing new to experience. he has repeated everything this reality has to offer - or so he thinks - and it shows no sign of ever changing. if it's the same every time, why stick around? why not go again? it doesn't matter. none of it matters. you are just part of the wheel.

and if we think of it in terms of [good and evil] we see yjh slowly become something that almost any human being would call a monster. as kdj says in that conversation with anna croft near the end, "can you really call someone a human if you have to look so hard to find their humanity?" as far as it goes. yjh commits some atrocities! Because of said aforementioned removal from reality and ego death, he is able to fully justify any action it takes no matter how horrendous. and yet his noble goal never changes. undeniably, what he is by the end is some sort of monster. but still, of course, just a man. and he knows this. he feels himself slipping a little bit more, every regression. he knows its coming. and he doesn't want it. he wants to maintain his humanity.

but really i think we can almost best think of yjh's regression depression as almost his equivalent to the [fourth wall]. whereas the 4th wall is a unique passive skill that protects kim dokja by preventing him from fully conceptualizing what's happening to him as 'reality', the regression depression harms yjh by preventing him from conceptualizing what's happening to him as 'reality'. in a sense, his friends and loved ones have almost become 'characters' to him as well, as he already knows the way this story happens. he is an outsider, observing these beings interact with each other but not quite the same as them. he is an anachronism. this isn't his present. this is a present, one he can take or leave at any time. the thing yjh does in his later regressions - using people as tools - is something kdj does in the beginning of his journey. because, well, it doesnt matter if this isn't the 'real world'! they mirror each other.

that ended up being so much longer than i thought it would im sorry. i hope this was even like 10% helpful.

[notabloodmage]

Anders Clinic: early Act 1

hello! i am handers trash! here is the first time my hawke helped Anders around the clinic! thank u!

The clinic was crowded today. There was another fever burning its way through Darktown. Anders was stretched thin as it is, with very few volunteers in recent days to help him keep the clinic running and safely hidden. As it turned out-- operating for free meant that help was hard to find. His mana was low, even with the extra reserves that Justice granted him. The clinic was overrun with patients-- his little corner of Darktown a filled with a cacophony of retching and the groans of the ill. He shuffled tiredly, but with purpose, from patient to patient. He was grateful that Justice wouldn’t let him rest until the job was done. It wasn’t good for Anders, sure, but it helped save the lives of all these people, so it had to be worth it, right? 

“Uh, Anders?” A familiar voice broke through the crowd. Hawke was… unexpected. The little rogue had weaved her way through the crowd somehow to make it to his side. He didn’t even look up from his work to greet here, focusing on blue fade-energy pulsing at his fingertips. 

“Sorry, Hawke, but I really don’t think I can be of any help to you today,” Anders said balefully. He was knelt over an old woman, a Ferelden refugee not unlike the rogue before him.

“Er, actually, I was wondering if I could help you…” 

That made him look up, and the sight was so beautiful it made his head spin (or perhaps it was the fact that he was going on 50+ hours without sleep). 

Hawke was looking down with her signature crooked grin, brow cocked with concern at his appearance. She wasn’t wearing her armour like usual, he’d never seen her without it before, all that tan freckled skin in the open. She was wearing a casual peasant shirt with a hastily lased collar and simple trousers torn at the knees. He snapped his eyes onto her warm brown gaze to keep them from wandering. Her eyes always had a twinkle in them, somehow, like she knew something you didn’t. 

She just had a way with people, Anders supposed, even the woman he was treating seemed to relax at her mere presence. 

And more than that, he realised, she may as well have been handing him a pot of gold. She was holding out a basket of fresh picked herbs. Elfroot, Embrium, Blood Lotus-- everything he could possibly need to treat this flu. She beamed when he looked up at her incredulously. 

“Bethany is here too, somewhere-- healing isn’t her speciality but Father did teach her the basics. And I may not be a mage, but I do know my way around a cauldron.” She winked down at him, turning toward the back of the shop. “You do have a cauldron, right? Or at least a pot I can cook with?” 

“I… What?” Anders gaped--half-convinced the exhaustion had finally gotten to him and he was hallucinating. Hawke giggled.

“A cauldron, Anders, so I can make some healing potions for these people. Father used to make this awful potion for us whenever we were sick, it tastes like the void itself but it always works! I’m not as good as he was but I do know the recipe!” She looked back at him quizzically.

“There’s a cauldron on the fire near the back, miss.” One of his other patients, a young boy who had been in the clinic before spoke up for him. 

Anders still couldn’t believe this was happening. This couldn’t be some kind of stress-induced hallucination, could it? Hawke wasn’t really just sweeping in to solve his problems again was she? First with Karl and now this...

“That’s… I…”

Before Anders could fully process the situation he was whisked back into his work. 

The sunset bled the day into night, the work still hard but going significantly more smoothly now. He’d bumped shoulders with Bethany a few times throughout the day, who’d always given him an encouraging smile before returning to her work, she may not have been as adept as he was at healing but she did better than fine. Her proficiency with the elements kept the fire burning and kept them supplied with clean water so Anders could focus solely on his healing abilities. The atmosphere of the clinic had changed, it was no longer so frantic, and although he felt as though he was about to collapse with exhaustion, Anders was cautiously optimistic. With all the help they’d been able to give it looked like most of the refugees would actually survive this. 

Plus, Hawke wasn’t kidding. She did know her way around a cauldron. Between patients Anders caught glimpses at her slicing up herbs at an alarming speed, Anders hadn’t considered that he proficiency with daggers would translate to something as mundane as chopping up potion ingredients. She’d brought more than enough, too.  With this potion a little goes a long way, she’d assured him, and she proved herself right. Sip after agonising sip of the sludge-like fluid had patients perking up already. She’d even been able to slip in a lyrium potion or two to keep Bethany and Anders running late into the evening. 

She hummed a cheery little tune to herself as she stirred away, serving patients with a smile and a joke. She made it look so easy, but she had to tired by now...

The clinic finally began to slow around midnight, most of the patients had cleared out and those that remained were asleep. Hawke had sent Bethany home before sundown-- Leandra got nervous when Bethany was out late, apparently-- so it was just the two of them that remained, in the back of the clinic. Anders was warming himself by the fireplace, hands gripping his mug tightly to keep them from trembling with exhaustion, as he sipped the tea Hawke had pushed into his hands. It smelled like like home somehow-- Ferelden. 

Mint, fennel and elfroot, sweetened with honey.

Hawke bit back a yawn, she was sat on a stool, scrubbing out his old cauldron-- he’d gotten it second-hand after he’d set up shop down here.

Her curly brown hair was tied back with a white rag, and at some point she had lost her overshirt, leaving her in tight camisole. Anders tried desperately to ignore how it gave him the perfect view of the way her chest heaved as she worked. Her toned, tanned arms were in full view, every inch of her skin patterned intricately with freckles. Sweat dripped down her neck into the valley between her breasts and Anders cleared his throat in an attempt to clear his thoughts.

“Thank you for today, really. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” He fixed his gaze on hers once more. She was smiling at him with something that looked like admiration her amber eyes, and he didn’t know if that terrified him or turned him on. 

Maybe both.

“I can’t believe you do this every day… I don’t even think I can stand back up…” Hawke leaned back, setting the cauldron aside so she could stretch, letting out a sweet sound of satisfaction at the relief on her sore muscles.

Anders nearly cursed aloud when Justice forced him to avert his gaze.

“It’s not always this bad…” He stammered out, as Hawke stood focusing his eyes on the hearth, where the fire had burned down to coals. She was looking at him again. He could see it from the corner of his eye, she was studying him intently, it seemed. 

The silence hung over them--warm, wanting, and not quite comfortable. 

Anders wanted to thank her again, but he couldn’t find the words. He still couldn’t believe she’d come at all. Completely unprompted, unasked. He’d asked her a few hours in what she was doing there and all she’d said was that Varric told her was busy at the clinic and she wanted to help. She didn’t say how she got the herbs or found the time, in her busy schedule though, and Anders thought that maybe he should ask if he could pay for those... not that he could afford them, he thought bitterly. 

The silence was broken by Hawke bursting into a fit of giggles. 

He looked at her, brow creasing. She was… Odd. Always smiling, always laughing at something or other. She’d tripped over her feet on the way up the Chantry steps that first night they’d met and he could’ve sworn her laugh echoed through all of Hightown, far too loud for someone as small in stature as she. In that moment she’d put him at ease, and even though his meeting with Karl went as terribly as it did she stuck by his side, even inviting him out on jobs with her in the days after, knowing full well that he could use the money, and time out of Darktown. 

Her eyes glimmered with mirth as she turned to him.

“I just realised I never told you my name.”

Huh. 

So she hadn’t. 

It was strange, given how much they’d been through together in the, what, few weeks? Since they’d met? Anders found himself laughing alongside her. 

Maybe they were delirious-- maybe the fever had finally caught up to them-- but Maker did the two of them laugh.  A gross, hard day full of grief and sickness that had left them both worn and covered in vomit and the pair laughed themselves to tears. 

Justice was confused. Anders was laughing. Why was Anders laughing? 

Anders didn’t quite know the answer himself, but he figured it didn’t matter as Hawke extended a hand to him. 

“I’m Minerva Marian Hawke, and you are?”

He took her hand in his. His handshake was a little too firm in an attempt to disguise how his hands were trembling. 

“Anders. Just Anders.”

“Just Anders, hm? Coooool~” She grinned, voice regaining its familiar teasing quality. He couldn’t help but return her grin. “Well, Just Anders, I’ll come by tomorrow, okay? I think it’s time to get some rest. Both of us, okay?” Her eyes flickered over him, an expression of genuine concern on her face. Anders didn’t know what he’d done to earn such kindness from her, but he couldn’t deny the way it made his heart pound in his chest.

She smiled her farewell and turned to leave.

“Goodnight, Minerva.” Her name tasted sweet on his lips. “And thank you.”

[ballofray]

what about 21 with ler!techno and lee!tommy?

Maybe Tommy got caught stealing some of technos stuff or smth

The idea of Tommy getting caught stealing from Techno has always kinda been in the back of my mind and now I get to write it today is a good day

Also, it came to mind that you probably wanted Tommy stealing stuff from Techno’s house in the SMP but I did it where they just live in the same house and Tommy’s being a little shit so I'm sorry-

21: “I’ll give you five seconds to run.”

Techno never took off his crown.

It looked like it weighed a decent amount. Wasn't it a hassle to keep on all the time? Did it fall off often? If he kept it on all the time, then it must be comfortable, right? So what would it feel like if Tommy wore it?

Tommy had been wondering these things for quite a while now. And he decided that if he wasn't going to get an answer from Techno, then he should find one himself.

He opened the door to his older brother’s room, peeking inside and taking a glance around. Is this considered an invasion of privacy? He'll just be taking Techno’s crown, so as long as he doesn't go around snooping through his stuff... It should be fine right?

Tommy took a few steps inside the room, looking around to make sure nobody saw him. He felt like a criminal. Spotting Techno’s crown on top of a dresser in the corner of the room, he quickly stumbled his way towards it, gently reaching out to pick it up and being careful not to drop it. The last thing he wanted was to break Techno’s property. As he picked it up he quickly realised that it was much lighter than he first thought it would be - a pleasant surprise considering his goal was to try it on and he wasn't sure if he would like having a heavy ass crown on top of his head.

Tommy lifted the crown above his head and put it on, only for it to immediately fall over his eyes. He let out a small snicker and pushed it back a little, to ensure that the front of it it would stay at his forehead. The crown was surprisingly comfortable. It didn’t look that way when Techno wore it, but honestly, Tommy could see now how the pinkette can wear this about the place.

Tommy took one look in the mirror and instantly decided that he was stealing the crown. He knew it’d be a short-lived theft, he was bound to get caught soon, but he wanted to feel like a king. This must be why Techno is so confident in everything he does. The crown just hits different, you know?

The teen walked out the door, head held high as the crown still sat atop it. He took a few steps away from the door before he heard footsteps behind him, and his heart dropped. “Tommy.” A deep, monotone voice interrupted his joyful humming, and he slowly turned around, coming face-to-face with Techno, only this time cloakless and crownless. He looked way less intimidating without his signature king outfit. “Give back the crown, now.”

Tommy felt a nervous smile tug at his lips as he let out a sheepish chuckle, averting his eyes and already planning his escape. “Um- naaaaah. Listen, big man, you wear this thing all the time so it's only fair if I get to.” He knew exactly what he was getting himself into. He knew exactly how deep a hole he was digging for himself. Did he care? Nope! This was gonna be fun. “I look better in it anyways.”

Techno was eerily silent for a few seconds, causing butterflies to form in the blonde’s stomach. He pushed down his nervousness and faced him with his usual cocky smirk, which faded a little as his brother returned Tommy’s smug expression with his own. Fuck. “Ill give you five seconds to run.” Double fuck.

Tommy didn't move for a moment, but as soon as he saw Techno’s fingers twitch and heard the sound of his monotone voice start counting down from 5, he took off running, dashing past Techno and leaping down the stairs. When he’d reached the living room, he looked around frantically, looking for a place to hide as he knew there was no chance he’d be able to outrun Technoblade. After a moment of panicked searching, he saw it. A couch with a small space between the back and the wall. He’d be able to fit in there.

Tommy rushed over to the small hiding place, shuffling into the gap and curling into a ball. The silence that followed only made his heart pump faster. God, why couldn't he just have given him the crown? But then again... The rush this give him was kinda fun. He gasped quietly as he heard the sound of Techno’s footsteps come thumping down the stairs at a running pace, and Tommy’s immediate thought was ‘I fucked up’.

“Oh, Tommy~” Techno’s voice still sounded rather bored, but this time it was also sing-songy, giving it a teasing edge that Tommy wasn't used to hearing come from his usually stoic older brother. His face flushed as he clamped a hand over his mouth, silencing any giggles that he could already feel building up in his throat. He didn't pick a good enough hiding spot. He was definitely gonna be found.

“There’s no point in hidin’, Tommy. I'm gonna find you. Might as well come out, y’know, save yourself the anticipation.” The brit would’ve glared at Techno for saying this, but, in this situation, he couldn't. He’d make sure to fucking murder him later. That was, of course, if he survived his current predicament. “C’moooon... Where are you?”

Tommy sat in anticipation as he heard Techno’s footsteps slowly become louder and louder as he grew nearer, letting a small squeak slip through his lips once he heard him stop right at the couch. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding his breath and preparing himself, trying to rapidly come to terms with the fact that he was royally fucked. And all over a crown too!

“AH-” Tommy let out a shrill shriek as he was suddenly pulled out of his hiding place by his sides, the two hands which had a hold on him also rapidly squeezing up and down as they dragged him out. He let out a few surprised giggles and began to lightly squirm, looking up and being met with Techno’s smirking face. “Nahahahah- Tehehechno no!”

“This is your fault,” Techno stated, shifting his attack up from the boy’s sides to his ribs, vibrating in-between each of them and making him let out a few squeals. Tommy kicked his legs and tried to sit up, only to be dragged onto Techno’s lap and trapped in a back-hug. “All I wanted was for you to give me my crown. Then none of this would've happened, but nooooo...” His nonchalant ranting only served to make the teen more flustered as he frantically shook his head, babbling out pleas and insults amongst his bubbly laughter. “You just had to make this difficult for the both of us. Didn't you?”

“Nahahah! Tehehehechno yohohou mahahahassive dihihihick!” Tommy said through his bouts of giggles, melting into the hug despite his constant squirming and kicking. His face was bright red by this point, especially since the anticipation was absolutely killer and the surprise attack took him off guard.

“You wanna give back my crown now?” Techno asked almost mockingly, leaning down to muzzle into Tommy’s neck and blowing a couple of tiny raspberries. Tommy squealed at each raspberry, his squirming and laughter only increasing as he felt the embarrassment rise from how vulnerable he was. All he wanted was his goddamn crown. Now he has to go through all this?

“N-nahahah! FuhuHAHAhuck ohohoff!” Tommy shook his head, lifting his arms to grip onto the crown, making sure it stayed on. Turns out this was a giant mistake, though, as Techno took advantage of his now exposed underarms and began to scribble at his hollows. The teen’s arms came crashing down in an instant and his laughter grew squeaky. “NAHAHAH! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE! TEHEHEHECHNO!”

The pinkette shook his head, sighing in mock disappointment as he continued to wiggle his fingers inside Tommy’s armpits. “Not there! Techno! No. You brought this upon yourself,” Techno said, mocking Tommy’s British accent at the beginning of his sentence. “If you agree to give me back my crown, then I'll stop.”

“NEHEHEVEHEHER!”

“Never? Well, guess this is your life now. Get used to it.” Tommy let out a loud shriek as he felt Techno move one hand down to squeeze at his hip, letting out a snort as now two of his worst spots were being attacked. “Oh? What was that?” Techno asked, a grin forming on his face. “Did you just snort?”

“NAHAHAHAH! NO IHIHI DIHIHIHIDN’T!” Tommy protested, looking down in an attempt to hide his glowing red face. Between his embarrassment and his two most ticklish spots being attacked at once, he felt himself quickly nearing his limit. But he wasn't gonna give up yet. He could go for a little longer. “T-TEHEHEHEHECHNOHOHO!”

“Yes? You gonna give it back now?” Techno seemed to be growing impatient due to how stubborn Tommy was being. And so, just to finish him off, he blew another raspberry on his neck. The teen screeched and fell into silent laughter for the duration of the raspberry, before rapidly shaking his head as his laughing returned.

“YEHEHEHEHES! TAHAHAHAHAKE THE CROHOHOHOHOWN!”

And just like that, it stopped. Techno grabbed the crown off of Tommy’s head and walked away, leaving him on the floor to regain his composure. And as he gasped for breath, he had a thought.

‘I should steal from him more often.’