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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 1 year

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Following you to the ends of the earth Pt. 2

Brandon Stark x Reader

Summary- Part 2 to my first work under the same title. As the story progresses, Bran and readers relationship does too. Taking place in the cave still, they face the white walkers. Part one right here! A/N- OH Em GEE you guys, tysm for all the likes and reposts, it makes me feel really good that yall are liking this story as much as I am! Love yall so much! Word count- 3,285

You were always a light sleeper. Maybe it was because you were never truly safe, that you always needed to be on your toes. That's what happens when your betrothed is Brandon Stark. The soon-to-be Three-Eyed Raven. A lifestyle you knew many girls would reject or resent, but you wouldn't change it for the word. If always being hyper-aware kept you close to Bran, then so be it.

Although you never slept very long, holding Bran certainly helped. Which you did a lot more since becoming engaged. Not a night went by where he wasn't leaning into your side, chest, lap, or shoulder. The only times you weren't holding him, he was holding you.

This particular night, Brandon was the restless one. His head resting on your thighs, acting as a pillow. You were fast asleep, back pressed up agaist some of the roots and stone inside the cave.

Bran looked all over in the darkness, trying to distract himself from his growing boredom. He contemplated waking you, but he knew you needed sleep more than him at that moment.

Ultimately, he lifted his head fom you, hair disheveled. He immediately regretted it as he heard you groan at the lack of warmth and pressure. Luckily you stayed asleep.

First, he started to play with the dirt that padded the floor. Careful to not get any on you, he lifted it in his hands and spread it back out. This amused him for only a minute. He then thought to Summer. She was ears-up watching him, but he was only greeted by a tilt of her head.

With a sigh, he tried to lean himself up against the wall, just as you were. He stared at you for a moment. Just taking in your features. The small pout your lip that had gained seconds previously, the way your head slightly leaned to him. Even the small scar you had on your temple, result of a bad encounter in the woods.

He then worried that you might think lowly of him for looking at you, sleeping so softly. That being said, he changed his glance to the Old man. How could the Three-Eyed Raven sleep so much? It made Bran upset just thinking about the wasted time in the cave.

The Three-Eyed Raven was always insisting that 'Bran needed rest', sometimes only after one vision. If Bran was going to become the Three-Eyed Raven one day, they would need to pick up the pace.

It was this mentality that had Bran picking up the finger bone of a far passed figure. He tossed the bone up to the Old man in an attempt to wake him, but was unsuccessful. With a deeper sigh this time, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

With a small grunt he moved to a crawling position to grab a branch in front of you and him.

"Bran?" You spoke out to him, noticing he was gone. "Are you ok?" You whispered.

He sqeezed his eyes closed for a second, scolding himself for waking you. "I am, go back to sleep." He said, turning to face you with a smile.

"What are you doing?" You persisted.

"Nothing, I'm just restless. I promise." He insisted.

As much as you wanted to call him over to smother him in affection and cuddle his worries away, you didn't know if he would be comfortable with that yet. The look on his face seemed like it had a goal, like he was trying to do something. But, you trusted him and did not want to bother him further.

Maybe if you knew what was going to happen you would have done things differently...

"If you need anything, let me know." You gave him a pleasant smile, which he studied with all his might, before turning on your side to try to gain sleep again.

His heart warmed, and he thought about returning to snuggle up and try to fall asleep. But, he couldn't deny that he felt a type of calling, and with frowned brows he faced the branch infront of him again.

Inhale. Exhale. Then he grabbed the branch, going deep into another vision.

Suddenly, he was outside. Powdered snow beneath him, with more falling from the sky. He walked on to the large tree in the middle of the snowy field.

Unusual stones flowed around the tree, but seemingly abandoned. With confusion rich on his face, he turned completely around to take in his surroundings.

After looking away then back to behind him, an army appeared. Thousands of bodies, but none human.

All were still and looked of decaying flesh, nothing humane about them except for the ripped clothing they wore.

This did nothing to help his confusion, but he marched on. Forcing his way through the frozen hoard of beings. Until he reached the end.

Four iced figures on decaying horses were sat at the back of the mob. Bran approached them, yearning for a better look. Until one of their heads snapped. Now looking directly at Bran.

He couldn't have possibly been seen? Right?

All of a sudden, the whole of the army was surrounding him. All looking right at Bran.

He turned fearfully, panting. Now met face-to-face with the leader of the hoard, The Night King.

Bran tried to back away, but was not quick enough. The Night King was too fast, and was right in Brans way.

A loud scream left his lips, he didn’t know if it was in pain or fear.

Your eyes snapped open at the sound and anxiety hit your veins like ice. You were fully awake now, adrenaline pumping.

"Brandon, Wha-" You were interrupted by a frantic Bran.

"He saw me, he saw me, The Night King saw me!" He exclaimed to you and The Three-Eyed Raven.

Surprisingly calm, the Old Man asked, "Did he touch you?"

'I-I don't know, he was close but.." At his words you were already on your feet, knelt down by Brans side. You examined him for and visible wounds.

"He touched you." The Three-Eyed Raven commented, and you raised both of Brans sleeves up. His left arm unscathed, thankfully. But he was not so lucky, for when you pulled up his right sleeve, you were met with an Icy hand print, that might have left an Ice burn scar.

Now everyone was awake, and questioning what happened. You let out a mix between a gasp and short cry at his forearm. "Oh gosh..." At your words, Bran looked up at you. Horror filled his eyes and you tried your best to console him with one hand to his back, and other fingers combing his messy hair.

"He knows you're here, he will come for you." The Old Man stated. Now you were terrified as well.

"But, he can't get in." Bran said, now doubting himself.

"Now he can." The Old Man claimed. "His mark is now on you. You must leave, all of you, now!"

You quickly kissed Brans cheek before getting up to help Meera and Hodor pack your things. You had to beckon the two others to get up, them still confused and dazed.

Meera gained some sense of urgency and went over to the sled, "Come on Hodor, help me with the sleigh." Hodor hesitantly walked over, assisting Meera. All while you crammed items into you bags, uncaring of wrinkles.

"Im sorry, I didn't mean to." Bran wasn't just speaking to The Three-Eyed Raven, but the three of you as well.

"The time has come." The Old Man began.

"Time for what?" With a quiver Bran answered.

"It is time for you to become me." The Three-Eyed Raven finalized.

Bran looked over at you, searching for some sort of familiarity and comfort. All you could offer was a look of reassurance and a smile while grabbing another bag. "But... Am I ready?" Bran asked, unsure.

He was met with a "No." Then both the Old Man and Bran snapped into a vision. Brans head falling back with a gasp and eyes white.

You let out a shaky breath, standing up to try to collect your thoughts.

"We can go home now Hodor." Meera exclaimed, trying to ease Hodors stress.

He responded with a chuckle and a "Hodor."

"Well, maybe not home-home, but at least not a cave." She said, smiling herself.

You tried to distract the ugly feeling in you stomach by joining the conversation, "I just want a nice fluffy bed and a hot bath." You added.

Meera smiled at you, "Oh, yes. And eat something that's not moss." Hodor laughed at the two of you.

"I want an egg." She stated, "How do you two like them, buttered? With a side of bacon. Maybe sausage?" Hodor ws very amused by this, his giddy 'Hodors" followed after him.

"Sunny side up for me." You said while gathering the blanket you and Bran were previously using.

At this Meera fell quiet. "What, what is it?" you questioned. Her face dropping, then eyes widening. You rose to your feet to follow her when she ran to the entrance of the cave.

"Meera, wait, we're not done packi-." Your words left your mouth as you were met with the sight of thousands of the dead. No, hundreds of thousands. All standing outside of the cave, with their leader The Night King, in front.

You had never been so scared. Not even when Jojen was attacked and killed by wights. Fear struck you onto your core. The hair on the back of your neck rose, your brow lined in sweat despite the cold. You were frozen still.

With wide eyes, you watched the Night King and his White Walkers advance.

Leaf and the other Children of the forest started throwing special balls of explosives out. Then lighting a ring of fire around the entrance of the cave. This would help keep them at bay. But you did not have a lot of time.

"Meera, we have to go now." She was just as shocked as you. With a grab of her arm, you pulled her back into the cave. She quickly came to and started running along side you.

At the commotion of running back in, Hodor became distraught. "Hodor...Hodor."

"Bran, wake up. Please Bran!" You called out to him, just as you fell to your knees beside him.

With your body pressing against his, you grabbed his shoulders and shook him. All while Meera tried to console Hodor into picking up the sled.

Bran laid there, eyes white as ever. It took all you had not to start throwing objects with foul language at the Three-Eyed Raven. If he was all-knowing, why couldn't he have prevented this?

Your cries became sobs as you felt tears bubbling up while shouting at Bran. "Bran, they are here now, we need you! Brandon wake up!" His name left your lips in a pitiful weep. If Bran couldn't hear your blatant plead for help, you would have to come up with another option.

"Meera, help me lift him." You called her over, whiping your tears away and giving one last sniffle. The two of you struggled to hoist Bran up to the sled. In your still blurried eyed state, you just about dropped him off of the sleigh, if it weren't for Meeras help.

The both of you panted at the activity, now out of breath. But you still needed to calm Hodor down. You went over to him stumbling as you did. A gentle hand was rested to his shoulder, calling his name.

"Hodor, listen, we need your help, you need to breathe. Inhale then exhale, buddy." You talked to him like a mother would, if Bran was conscious you knew he would make a comment about how nurturing you were.

White Walkers started pouring into the cave, and you had to quickly grab your weapon, an axe. As a walker came up to attack Hodor, he let out a cry. You jumepd to, slicing the walker across the chest. It fell to the ground, but more were approaching.

"Hodor, we need your help!" Meera shouted out, while swinging her sword at walkers who were trying to attack Bran.

You grabbed Hodor the best you could, pulling him to his feet. You urged him to walk to Meera and Bran. A walker some how pranced down from the ceiling, Meera letting out a scream. Summer hoped into action, tearing the walker apart.

It was looking hopeless as more White Walkers poured in. That was until Leaf and some other Children of the forest came in as well. All defending the four of you.

"Bran, wake up, we are all gong to die! We need Hodor, Bran!" Meera tried again. His white eyes stared back at the two of you.

Hodor was becoming more frantic, yelling out "Hodor, Hodor!" He shook his hands all around.

You knelt down at the side of the sled, while Meera stood up to fight more walkers off.

Taking his pale face in you hands, you brought his face close to yous. Foreheads touching, and one hand moving to be in his hair, you spoke to him.

"Baby please, we need you to warg into Hodor. My love, if this must be the last thing I ask of you so be it, but we will die if you do not wake up. Please, we need Hodor." You whispered directly into his ear. Then pressing you cheek to his own. Not before planting a quick kiss on his lips.

Unknown to you, while Bran was in his vision, watching the courtyard where a young Hodor and his father played and worked, he felt your touch. First, he leaned into the familiar feeling of you hand to his face. He didn't think about the fact that he had never felt you in a vision before.

He just thought about how your hand moved to his hair, smiling at the action. That was until he felt your cheek against his, then a whisper of your words in his ear, ringing out. You sounded weak, like you were crying. With a warm pressure against his lips, he felt your kiss. Bran said your name unconsciously. Just before snapping back to and warging into Hodor.

It was just a whisper, but you heard him murmur your name. You jumped up, looking to his eyes. They were still white, but now Hodor was standing tall, silent.

Hodor, under Brans guidance, marched over and picked up the handles of the sled. He started pulling Bran to the back exit of the cave. You risked the extra second to grab a bag. You weren't sure if it was the food or extra furs. Either way, you couldn't live without one or the other.

Just as you were pulling away, a walker ran at you. With a scream, you fell onto your back. Helpless, you prayed what you thought would be you last prayer.

With a snarl, Summer leaped up and attacked the walker. Giving you time to compose yourself and run with the others. You turned your head to see that Summer wasn't following you, but standing her ground.

"Summer! Summer, come here girl." You called after, but she stayed. Continuing to snarl at the walkers that advanced. You had no time, you had to run. With another sob, you tried a last time "No, summer, you have to come!" She didnt, and you ran.

You could worry about how to tell Bran later, right now you needed to make sure he stayed alive. You sprinted as fast as your legs would let you, bag now secured on your back.

You caught up to them by sheer luck. The two panting as they ran as well.

You made a glance behind you, seeing the corridor flooding with walkers. "We have to hurry!" You proclaimed.

Just a mere few seconds later, you all reached a door at the end of the passage way. Hodor dropped the sled down and went up to throw his body against it. Trying to urge it open. Meera and you helped the best you could, her soon bending with her hands on her kneees. She felt that she might pass out.

Looking at the long hall again, Leaf stood alone. Looking to the hundreds of walkers. She muttered a "Good luck." Out to you.

She then ran to the walkers, sacrificing herself with an explosive ball in her hands. The tunnel went up in flames.

You urged Hodor back, swinging your axe at the door handle. As a result, you were hrown back at the rebound. You weren't strong enough, but Hodor took the axe from your hands and swung it himself. This time it actually did damage, the handle popping open.

You all rushed out, Hodor turning around to close the door. But, the door wouldn't close all the way. Hodor used his body to keep it shut.

"Hodor, Hold the door!" Meera told. While you picked up one handle of the sled, Meera the other, you two pulled Bran away closer to the forest.

"Hold the door!" Meera called out again to the man.

"Good job Hodor, you've always protected us so well!" You yelled to him. Knowing it might be the last thing he hears.

You couldn't bare to look back at the walkers digging into Hodor. You kept a blank stare straight, and the two of you struggled to pull Bran.

The only reason you and Meera were able to get him to far so quickly was pure adrenaline.

You let out whispered cries. The storm had passed, now only a light flurry. The sky was still dark, or maybe it was the many leaves blocking the moonlight. But it only seemed to get darker in the forest. Every so often you called out to Bran, but he was still in a Warged-out state, or simply a vision.

Not knowing how far you were into the woods, or how much time had passed, you and Meera collapsed.

Meera tried to stand again, to pull Bran by the rope reigns, but was unable. You were both out of strength. She let out a wail, and you froze for just a moment before calling out to her.

Now in a full cry, she fell back to her knees, rope still in hand.

"Meera, Meera its ok. Shhh, its ok. You tried your best." You said as your pulled her into a hug. Her tears wet the shoulder of you furs, you didn't mind though.

With a sniffle she pulled back. You both turned to Bran and went by his side.

She sobbed again seeing him unconscious, and you wrapped an arm around her while you both leaned into the sled. You had one arm now cradling Brandons head, the other on Meeras back.

The three of you in a circle formation, in a way that had Bran against a tree, you and Meera with your backs to any attacker.

Brans eyes returned to their brown state, with your hand rubbing gentle circles on his cold cheek.

He looks to you then Meera, "They've found us." was all he said.

"I am so sorry." Meera cried out. She was holding everything that happened on herself. While all you could do in the moment was prioritize everyone's safety, though you knew your feelings would hit you hard later. If there even was going to be a later.

You pulled Meera down with you, both close to Bran all huddled together.

You saw the walkers approach, but the two of you had no strength left. You just held eachother. Accepting your fate, at least you would die with Bran....

A/N- I couldn't help myself yall, I love Bran too much. Lmk if yall want a pt. 3! Thanks for reading, and thanks again for the support guys! Lmk if there's any way I can improve the story! Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

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catmansquad · 1 year

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Special (2)

An irritating Spider-woman leaves you on edge, fortunately, the man you love can make you feel all better...

(Miguel O'Hara x M!Reader) (Pokes M!Reader tag. "C'mon... Do something...")

‘What’s up Spider-fans! It’s Spider-Selene here once again! There’s a whole lot of you who’ve been sliding into my DMs about seeing Across the Spider-Verse. Well, guess who’s gotten her own special invite? That’s right; I’m in Spider Society!’

She held up her phone, still recording as her other hand held up the silver-white bracelet that swirled with a soft neon blue light. ‘For those who don’t know me-? Seriously, how can you not? Well, let’s take it from the top; I was bitten by some radioactive guy in a spider costume- some sort of Halloween party at a power plant gone wrong-, and since then I’ve been the one and only Spider-Selene; half-spider, half-witch, and full on badass! Fighting crime and saving the world with kickass acrobatics, pure love, and white light magic! Well, I’m already in good; got some tight-knit friends… Uh… Like Ben! Hey, Ben! How’re you doing big guy? Just telling all my fans about how I’m-!’ ‘… Friends…?’ Ben hung his head, face vanishing beneath his messy dyed locks, voice low. ‘… My life truly can spiral into darker depths.’ Spider-Selene blinked, a little nervous laugh escaped her before she swiftly turned on her heels, panning her phone away from him. ‘Yeah, he’s just being himself- we’re really actually good friends, like… Uh… Like me, Jess and Peter! Heyy!’ She waved them down, watching the two in particular pause in their conversation and look to her. ‘Hey! I’m just telling all my fans about us, want to tell them about-‘ ‘Actually, Peter, I really need to get back home… We’ll catch up later, yeah?’ Jessica gave him a soft, fond smile, that Peter matched and quickly strode off. As soon as Spider-Selene’s masked face snapped to Peter, he shrugged with an apologetic smile. ‘Yeah… Sorry, I’d love to stick about and chat, but I promised I’d look after Mayday tonight; MJ’s having a girl’s night out. See you later!’ With a “thwip” of webbing he was off, leaving Spider-Selene staring at the empty space they had once been.

‘So, you know the difference between the movie and the actual Spider-Society? Well, the bracelets are different, for one… But the really bad thing is… Well…’ She panned the camera, over to where two figures lurked by a futuristic water cooler; tall and powerfully built, a man clad in the venom green suit of a scorpion with his tail lazily curled on the floor, and a man in green and purple carrying a fishbowl helmet under one arm. ‘… Last world I explored? Literally built in the skies; farmlands, windmills, quaint little towns. Local population had wings.’ Mysterio gestured calmly the glint of a fond smile on his face. ‘Why do you get lucky? Mine was a swamp where the trees would try to strangle you with their roots.’ She returned the camera back to herself. ‘See? Literal. Villains. Just walking about with travel bracelets on. In Spider. Society. I… I mean, Mysterio’s kinda hot though, but the point still stands! It’s for Spider-People!’ ‘What did she say?’ She froze up, slowly looking back to where the pair stared at her. Scorpion’s expression narrowed further, his tail lifting from the floor. ‘M-Mac, don’t get carried away now.’ ‘Listen, you entitled little s-‘ ‘Mac.’ Mysterio’s hand on his shoulder seemed to calm whatever rage was building. ‘Look.. Spider-whatever… This place is for all of us to explore and chart the dazzling expanse of the multiverse. Perhaps no-one explained it to you- perhaps you just didn’t want to listen- but me and Mac? In our worlds, we’re the heroes. Don’t take Mac too harshly, he’s had it rough; his local Spider-woman is a terrible villain.’ A look of concern crossed his charming features as he glanced over her shoulder. ‘Perhaps it’s not any particular heroes or villains you should be worried about….’

She turned on her heels, and hurriedly tried to shove her phone back into its pocket. In a sleek black suit, you approached, peering from behind neon blue glasses, the scroll of data running across the lenses. ‘You.’ You paused before her, hands behind your back. ‘Spider-Selene.’ She corrected you, and you shook your head. ‘Lyla, pull her profile, please.’ The scroll of data stopped as you surveyed what had been brought up. ‘Hanna, please come to my office at your earliest convenience; you and I are going to have a little talk.’ She cringed softly at the mention of her name, like a scolded child who knew she had been caught out by a teacher. Finally, she hung her head, all confidence fled. ‘Yes, sir…’

You relaxed back into the chair of your office; its soft cream walls, shelves lined with tokens from other worlds, and the sleek desk with its hardlight screen scrolling the data that passed through the building. Sighing you, pulled the glasses from your eyes and set them aside, blinking at the world as it truly was. It was fascinating, just how easily you had slipped into this life, this job, in another world and time altogether. Your eyes glanced at the bracelet on your left wrist, the silver-white sparkling in the light, the engraving of a many-branching tree visible upon its surface. Gabriel had a wonderful sense of style for designing their aesthetics. How different your life had become solely because of one extraordinary, wonderful man… The soft knock on the door, the door with that bore your nameplate and title beside it; “Head of HR”. Lyla’s hologram flitted into being on your desk. ‘Got Spider-Selene, here for your chewing out.’ You sighed and sat up straight, feet flat on the floor and pulled the chair closer to the desk, trying to look professional. ‘Let her in, please.’

She slinked across the threshold as the door slid open, hands clasped nervously as she waited for your judgement. ‘Sit down.’ The chair opposite creaked as she did as ordered. You waited for a time before clearing your throat softly. ‘Since it’s nearly lunchtime, I’ll make this brief as I’m sure we’re both hungry…’ You closed down the screen and leaned on your elbows across the desk, no barriers between your eyes. ‘Hanna, I’ve been receiving some... complaints about you, recently. I know you’ve only been here a month and you might need time to settle in, but the frequency has quickly become… worrying. I deal with Spider-People relatively frequently, some are worse joke tellers than others…’ Realising you were beginning to drift off-topic you cleared your throat softly. ‘These complaints state that you have been… Irritating, unprofessional, and intrusive. Invading private conversations, recording and photographing without permission, and conducting yourself inappropriately in a manner that could be construed as sexual harassment.’ You watched the eyes of her mask grow wide, and you resisted the urge to grit your teeth at the last one. Needless to say, that Miguel certainly didn’t appreciate having his ass groped by yet another Spider-woman who thought he was the hottest thing since fire. ‘N-no! I’m not intrusive! I’m a superhero! I’m a good person!’ ‘We’ve also had complaints about… junk being left around the premises by you.’ ‘No! No, those are crystals and blessing bags! They’re to promote good energy and fill the space with white light… Y’know… cause I’m half-witch.’ ‘Riiight…’ You rolled the word, tone dry, you wished you had a drink beside you, something to stretch out the awkward silence.

‘I don’t know why we have villains just roaming the premises, I mean, surely for Spider-Society they should be sent back to their own worlds, it might damage the Ca-‘ You slammed a hand onto your desk stopping her babbling before she could utter that last, cursed word. ‘No.’ You closed your eyes, exhaling as fingers curled tight into your palm. You blinked your eyes back open, looking up. ‘We are not The Society. We do not wish to be their exclusive club, and we do not respect their views on the theoretical nature of the multiverse. Anyone can be an explorer of the Tree of Infinity. Now, Hanna, I want you to consider this a warning; we expect your behaviour to improve. You are still on probation, and if it does not improve, we may have to say goodbye to you. I will be discussing this matter with Miguel.’ She seemed to sink deeper into her seat at the mention of his name. ‘P-please, can you put in a good word for him with me? Let him know that I think he’s handsome? I-I mean, I don’t mean to brag, but I feel like we’ve got a real connection- we were bitten by the same spider after al-‘ ‘Really? What spider?’ You feigned interest with a gentle smile, knowing she had blabbed herself straight into a corner. ‘U-uh…’ ‘What spider, Hanna?’ ‘Uhh…. Black widow?’ You closed your eyes, chuckling softly as you nodded, and when you opened your eyes again, you could almost make out her relieved smile from beneath her mask. It was time to drop the hammer twice over. ‘Hanna? Miguel wasn’t bitten by a spider. Also, please stop flirting with him. He doesn’t like it, and his boyfriend doesn’t appreciate it. Mm?’ You watched her eyes slowly widen in realisation and drank it in before waving softly, triumphant. ‘You can go now, get some lunch.’

The gloomy room was Miguel’s office in the highest reaches of the tower, illuminated faintly by the sprawling, rotating image of a white tree with many branches. You knew its layout well enough to move through it without falling over anything, as long as Miguel hadn’t moved things around too much. As luck would have it, he had indeed. Your feet became tangled in a mass of cabling that had not been present on your last visit and you felt yourself stumble and begin to fall. You never hit the ground before familiar strong arms caught you and bore you close against his warm chest wrapped in soft clothing. ‘Heh… You’re getting clumsy.’ His deep voice was rich with amusement, right by your ear as he lifted you off your feet with effortless ease. You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him in a hug with all your might, and his body didn’t yield in the slightest, only a faintly amused huff escaped him for your efforts. ‘You’re the one booby trapping your office to trip me up, Miggy.’ He laughed again and placed a fond kiss to your cheek. ‘Damn, you’ve figured me out… Lyla tells me you’ve been busy. Want to tell me what it’s about?’ ‘Well-‘ ‘Actually, hold that thought. Let’s get comfortable.’

He supported your entire weight with one arm as his other reached out, the “thwip” of the white, organic webbing from his wrist as he launched both you and him up into the upper reaches of his office, to where a hammock of webbing had been constructed. He laid you down on the soft, silken threads and relaxed beside you, the glint of his crimson eyes visible in the faint light. He began to rock the hammock gently with one foot against the wall and you felt utterly safe with one of his arms over your waist. ‘Well… Uh, the crazy witch has been told off. She won’t be groping you anymore. So your ass is safe… Until the next Spider-woman tries….’ ‘Ay dios mio… You think it’s pheromones? You think I produce pheromones that drive them crazy?’ You snuggled closer into him, nuzzling into his neck and sniffing to inhale his wonderful earthen scent. ‘You always smell great to me, Miggy…’ Another little chuckle escaped him, and he kissed the top of your head with a pleased rumble. ‘Uh-huh…? Well, Lyla’s made sure we won’t be disturbed… So, maybe your ass won’t be so safe from me, my love. If you want to do more than just snuggle…’ You snuggled even closer against him, feeling his arm around you tighten with strength that was just shy of hurting- you knew he still held back the lion’s share of his might, he could snap you like a twig if he wanted. ‘I… Think I just want to be with my Spider-Man, right now…’ ‘Heh… Te amo, mi vida…’ He purred as he placed another kiss to your head, still rocking you quietly. ‘I am yours…’

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I designed Spider-Selene to be an incredibly shallow, irritating version of some of the Spidersonas I used to see around Tumblr. Also I love the fact that she just got chomped by a drunk guy in a costume and the world went "Ehh, techncially that counts". Probably doesn't even have any powers (which would explain why ATSV Miguel had no interest in recruiting her)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x male reader

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lake-archive · 4 months

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Track 3

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Series: Rekindled Passion

Characters: Eli (by @watersofcamelot), Ole (OC), Ann Wolff (OC)

AO3 Link

Track 2 - Track List - Track 4

Eli had been keeping his distance for a while now, ever since having come home. He said “I’m back” and then was silent ever since returning home, having been busy in the kitchen. Ole had tapped inside a few times to see how the boy was holding up and the result was… Worrying. All he did was stare at an empty pot for a while, as if lost in thought, and it took several meows to have him wake up from whatever daydream he was in. And it happened over and over and over. At a point Ole forgot his hunger and just wanted the boy to wake up, even trying to urge him to take a break. How? By nuzzling against the boy’s legs and trying to calm him down, have him soothed and thus allowing him to take a nap. But that was to no avail. Instead the cat got a (dreaded) pat on his head which only made him stare rather blankly for a moment. Talk about inconvenience. Because it would have two not so beneficial outcomes:

One – Dinner would be later on the plates than usually anticipated.

Two – If Eli is not in a good mindset then the group might be stuck where it is.

The two youngsters really needed to progress so operations could start but Ole was truly at a loss with the both of them. One is insecure, the other seems to be stuck in his past. And for now the cat could not figure out the roots. One had no opportunity as of yet, or he had not cracked the code as of yet. And the other… Ole barely knew Eli and still had to get to know him. All he knew was that something had bothered the boy, something in his past. How was that conclusion drawn? Well… No successful rapper would retire from out of nowhere. Something had to have happened. No, he had heard it. Something did happen. But was that all?

After all Eli was… Odd, to say the least. So many things did not add up with this young man. So very many things… His name already, his introduction at the time… There is something he is not telling them. Yeah, the cat knew… Everyone knew. Ole’s owner had probably figured it out as well.

After all, they were equally as concerned. They were not allowed entrance in the kitchen under almost any circumstance, especially if Eli was at home. But they took a peek inside and their face said the same thing… Something had happened, something worrisome. Something Eli refused to say. The boy always made things eat him up. But then again, that was what he and Ann had in common. Or so Ole’s conclusion.

And thus these young people are known to wanting to make rash decisions. So, in the late evening, at the dinner table, during food consumption, this is what Eli hd to say:

“Hey, if I were to quit…”

It had both Ole and Ann in a sudden shock. The cat had lifted his head up from the bowl, eyes wider than usual and looking at the male, as if asking: “Are you serious!?”

His owner was in equal shock, dropping the cutlery they were holding, right onto the table. So he didn’t even need to see their expression. “You… What?” They stuttered.

"You two could manage on your own, couldn’t you?” Eli asked, sounding quieter than usual. This was a very unusual tone for him, one the cat had not been used to in the slightest. “I mean, I would just hold you back…”

“Wh… Where is this coming from?” Well said Ann. Because Ole was wondering the same thing. Something must have happened!

“That doesn’t answer my question, does it?”

“You’re just bringing this up out of nowhere!”

“Are you going to keep complaining or will you just answer the question?” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. Yet despite trying to seem relaxed one could see the tension in his body, his face being the exact opposite of relaxed.

“H… How would we even—” They tried to reason yet interrupted themself mid sentence. “Nevermind that. What brought this up all of a sudden? Is something the matter?”

A direct question, only met with the gaze going to the side, trying to not face Ann in any way, as if avoiding eye contact on purpose. He did not even say anything, as if debating something… Before sighing and suddenly getting up, right off his chair. “I’m tired.”

“Ti— That’s just dodging the question now!”

“You’re doing the same thing Sis.” He countered before walking right past them, to the door of the kitchen yet did not walk out just yet. “Oh, you can take the rest with you tomorrow. You got a long day at uni.” And with that he just left.

Ann wanted to jump up, Ole could see it when turning to them. They wanted to scream, grab him and squeeze the answer out of him. And yet it may not have been the best choice so Ole tapped over to them and pawed against their foot a few times. It made them turn their head down to him. “B… But–!”

And yet a quick headshake. He needed no more to convey his message. ‘ Leave it be for now ’. They were about to open their mouth yet another paw made them go all quiet.

“You insist, don’t you?”

The cat nodded.

“Hah… Fine. I guess he should calm down first…”

Yeah, he should. The two would figure out what is going soon enough.

Track 2 - Track List - Track 4

#Nimue's Lake #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone #hypmic #hypmic fic #hypnosis mic oc #hypmic oc #original male character #male original character #original character

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josephseedismyfather · 1 year

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2 in 1 uquizzes

I was tagged by @inafieldofdaisies and @socially-awkward-skeleton for these 2 quizzes, sorry about the delay! I still haven't gotten all the tags figured out apparently!

What is your ocs true role in the story?

The "Oh" quiz

Harley Jane ❤️

the fallen prodigy

hello old friend, it's been a while hasn't it? I remember when you were just a child, gape-smiled and beaming like the sun. where have you laid your youth to rest my love? is it buried beside your heart perhaps? I know how deeply life has wounded you, it took away everything, didn't it? oh poor soul, you held onto happiness with bloody, shaking hands but still fate ripped even that away from you. your past lovers are dead or did some betray you? turning away in fear of what they once admired. your comrades have been slain, or their priorities shifted. I've heard you too have changed your way of thought. the people fear you know, do they normally cower at the sound of your name? ah don't fret, that makes two of us. the masses tend to despise the things they do not have the will to comprehend. the villain finds sympathy for you don't they, well I could have seen that from a mile away. you two are the oldest friends, you made a deal with them correct? to save your late love, they tried to hold their end of the bargain, really, but I fear you are cursed to forever be despondent. oh what a sad and miserable life without love. is that why you chase loneliness? for is it truly a life of sorrow if you yourself has chosen it? but don't become bitter from the pain. trust when I say I have seen wounds unfold a man, turning the gentlest spirits into seething beasts. please, keep seeking love, even if it seems you are forbidden from it. you are the master of your own fate, I see how tired you are. the scars never healed, they twist and wrap around your entire person. your eyes are dark and lifeless, rest. but keep fighting, not with the sword you have forsaken so long ago, but with your heart. I'll be rooting for you my friend.

the late-night talk

Oh. you figure it out when you realize just how vulnerable they are willing to be with you. it isn't everybody who could or would stay up talking into the night with you, not with such affection or easy familiarity. it isn't everybody who is so understanding of you. it isn't everybody who could bare their soul to you in return. that kind of intimacy... it means deep foundations. it means comfort. it means trust. maybe it's a secret, maybe it's a story, maybe it's something you just never thought of before -- but they say something, late at night, and you realize all at once how remarkable they are, and how special it is to exist in the same time and space as them. "oh" indeed.

Why do both of these fit her so well?! 🥹

Evangeline Rose 💛

the supporter

oh gentle comrade, you know what it takes to make others shine. you live your life assisting others to reach their goals, but many say you are lackluster and unnecessary. but alas, do we need the stars any less for their dim light helps the moon glow brighter! you are warm inside and out, perhaps made of sunshine one might ask? but I can see you are as weary and worn as the hero you so desperately cling to. your purpose is to serve? Is it not? it's those moments of undying loyalty that make your bones ring true with honor. "I am right beside you," you whisper, for unlike the ones who lie through their teeth you will be with your ally through joy, through heart ache, through death. it is a difficult thing to gain your trust back if one has shattered it though, you are forgiving yes? you give many chances, but alas, one can only look away from a wrong doing so long. you can't exactly turn your other cheek as once wrings a blade through your middle. you are made of a steadfast heartbeat and a tired, knowing smile. you bring solace to the aching, and comfort to the wronged. but what happens when your protagonist loses? what happens when your valiant heroes fail you? will you pick up a sword and vanquish their enemy or will you wait patiently for yet another savior to appear and save the day? one must live long enough to see their heroes die. but are you brave enough to take their place? the only strings that bind you to your oaths of subservience are your own doubts. "am I good enough?" they whisper in your ears. you answer that yourself love. for the only difference between the paladin and the stable boy are mettle. it is not the question of can you be a hero. it is simply, will you be?

the unrelated moment

you tend to be more preoccupied with practical things, to the point where you've been blinded to matters of the heart. sure, you're close with this person. you like to be close with people. it is rewarding to know and be known in return. you leave realization no choice but to sneak up on you. they're not even in the room when it happens. someone or something else spells it out for you, an observant friend's passing comment or a particular sentence you were reading in a book, and suddenly it hits you, what it all means. the person your feelings have been building themselves around. Oh. it's them. it's time. it's them and you, here and now, and you have to decide what to do at this crossroads. luckily, you're practically-minded.

Okayyyy but these ones are perfect, too. Especially "the unrelated moment"...iykyk 😏

Tagging my usual peeps because honestly I can't remember who did this and who didn't. So, SUPER apologies for doubles and no pressure!!! @wrathfulrook, @trench-rot, @jacobsneed, @vampireninjabunnies-blog, @ladyoriza, @cassietrn, @redreart, @hotmessteaparty, @g0dspeeed, @silenthqll, @the-silver-chronicles, @malefiquinn, @strangefable, @psyren-psyrpent, @noodlecupcakes, @neverthesameneveranother and anyone else who wants to play 🥰

#uquizzes #tagged 🖤#oc: harley jane #oc: evangeline rose #okayyy but they are so perfect!#for both of my girls!

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zorkaya-moved · 6 months

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"miss bodyguard, how very safe i feel with you." silken, honeyed falsehoods; safety is an alien feeling to aventurine, one he neither feels nor strives for in his endless pursuit of risk. most likely, she knows he jests, he supposes. safety would require trust, a commodity in rare supply among the ipc and its lapdogs. nevertheless, as if acting out the part of the gallant royal defended by their valiant knight, aventurine reaches for her hand. the gesture is dramatic, a flourish as he grasps her fingers in his own and presses a kiss to the back of her hand. his gaze does not leave hers. "i hope we can continue to cooperate."

@starspurn

Words of honey are often filled with poison, but the [bodyguard] remains receptive to them. After all, if her [liege] wishes to feed her poison, she would drink it without interrupting the eye contact. He may wish to use her as a weapon, and so be it. It is more intriguing to see hw he operates with a tool because it shows his willingness to survive, to move forward, to show ambition. Is there a desire to live if there is fear of death? It's a question best asked from the Apostle of Origin, but it's still a mystery and she is just a "bodyguard sent by diamond to guard another Stoneheart". A sacrificial beast to slay to prove loyalty or just to see if this man's [luck] will prevail when skill (Jade, Opal) could not.

Can luck beat skill? Can luck beat immortality? Can luck free Diamond from a cursed existence?

Oh, if luck truly meant salvation within death's embrace, then Aventurine would be praised for far more than he'd understand. Not just for loyalty, but for freeing his superior from a burden he cannot yet get rid off. The time is ticking, but time means the roots of frigid cold would dig deeper. And yet, the Stoneheart holds her gaze and shows nothing of his truer self. He is a liar, he is an actor, and he is a gambler, but Zarina watches him impassively, not allowing any ounce of emotion to be shown on her face. They both play a game of lies, pretending to be someone they are not and pretending to play gratitude when it is nowhere present.

They lie and they lie and they lie.

And so, she puts on a mask of a calm and collected bodyguard. The opposite of himself. The one who is seemingly absent in terms of emotions. A perfect tool to follow orders, but still one who speaks her mind and who is more 'honest' compared to others. Will he hate her if he were to learn the truth? The selfish choice, the fact that the beast chose him next to see what other stones serve under Diamond's watchful gaze. Perhaps, it was because she liked his eyes or... because she saw potential, survival and experience that no one from Stonehearts gave her. The desperation, borderlining on despair yet clutching onto hope (luck).

Will he be mad to know his 'valiant knight' is a 'dragon in disguise'? And that Diamond wished not to deal with her and make her a problem of another, allowing her to choose whom she'll protect after Jade's failures. Will he angry to learn that she could've walked away instead of lurking here? And that she remained because it was not yet time. Will be disappointed to figure out one day that what was given to him was an Emanator, an Apostle of Origin, and that she could truly become what he needed her to be if he requested? After all, this life was just a game. A long, terribly long game of life. A game until the script of Finality will kick in for her to return to stars.

"Our cooperation is only possible if you wish for it," she speaks, her tone awfully monotone. If he wants to play roles, she will happily keep up hers. But somehow, it feels all too similar to something from the past. Zarina pushes that thought away. "Your word is my order, Mr. Aventurine. Anything you wish of me shall be granted. As long as it does not interfere with my oath to protect you." Oath, is it? Truly, like a gallant knight. A knight for a gambler. A truly marvelous crossover of genres. "If you wish me to put on a mask for others to think I'm someone else, I will do so. Use me as you wish, I am now in your hands." Not Diamond's, Jade's, or Opal's.

As she takes her hand away from him, Zarina does a step back to put a distance between them as if showing him that she wishes to keep him 'comfortable'.

"To kiss the hand of your bodyguard is not befitting of a man your status," she brings her hands back behind her back, straightening up while looking straight into his eyes. It doesn't help that she stands a bit taller than him, her golden gaze examining but lacking any bright light. If he wants to lie and play a role, she will do the same. "I do not wish to taint your reputation. I am only a chip in your hands."

More like an ace up his sleeve, but does he know of it yet? Oh no, not yet.

#❄ ― IN CHARACTER. ╱ you breathe by the sun，i breathe by the moon.#starspurn #GOD THIS IS SO FUCKED UP WHEN U THINK ABOUT IT #WHY COULDNT I MAKE IT FUNNY IM SO SORRY KIT ORTUTHYBRTY

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hallucinateonpaperspines · 6 months

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Hi!! I just found out you had a tumblr and I saw your rdr2/tfp (of timelines and trolleys) crossover idea and I was just wondering if you’d be willing to expand on that? 👀 (unless you don’t want to give away any spoilers lol)

My rdr2 and tfp hyperfixations have made resurgence lately and the idea of that crossover sounds so cool!!! (I’m rereading your fic atm, it’s so fucking good I need it injected directly into my bloodstream)

WELCOME!!!! and thank you so much for the compliment （＾ω＾）

I've actually been working on the rdr crossover here and there, but I'll definitely start giving it more attention. (I feel I've moved to the acceptance stage of grief, but writing fanfic about it might implicate bargaining... eh I'll get some laughs out of it regardless)

I do want to make a mini-fic that's more put together than my PJO au, but has more content than some of my drops in Worlds of A Disgruntled OC so instead of rambling, how about I give you a sneak peak of what I'm working on?

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Ashlyn Moore was an incredibly unlucky person. It wasn’t a matter of opinion, it was an objective fact of the universe. As cut and dry as gravity’s rules or the laws of energy conservation. A dependable and evidentially supported fact of life, and much like Murphy’s Law, it could be invoked at any moment.

Such as right now.

Here, lying here, with a rock pressed against her spine and dirt rubbing against her skin, Ashlyn Moore was faced with such evidence that would seal her title as the unluckiest person in the world. Because how many people crossed dimensions not once, but twice within a year?

Wrinkling her nose, the girl didn’t bother to open her eyes. She was content to simply lay there, in the dirt, ignorant to the specifics of whatever world she’d wandered into for now. Not much different from what Ashlyn had been doing with the voices, and that had been working out great so far.

As much as she would love to reveal in unknowing bliss, dimensional travel had a very distinct feeling. An odd dreamlike haze, as if reconnecting a mind to a body that had been nothing but split atoms and a handful of migrating molecules moments before was an arduous task. A process not quite complete, even after eyes opened and sight returned. Ashlyn only had a rough guess of the moment her world had first blended with fiction, the transition too vague to truly define, but the sensation of other was too distinct not to connect to. And now, she had relived it once more. That was one aspect of reality, of whatever had happened when energon met that stupid rock, that she could not ignore.

The world had shifted, yet again, and she had no clue how to fix any of it.

Honestly, it was rather predictable, wasn’t it? Didn’t take a lot of brain power to figure out once those few details became clear and the story came into focus like the tapes of an old film.

Miko had tried to sneak out and watch a bot fight. Jack following to make sure the girl didn’t get herself killed was typical. Ashlyn, herself, had been bored out of her mind and resorting to watching mind-numbing videos of a survival expert cooking some Michelin-level salmon with tin foil and alternating to a shirtless man digging out an underground house with a piece of bamboo. Feeling faintly inspired, she’d been prepared to give the latter a try in the base’s walls. The fact that mud and roots were replaced by stone and steel would only add to the challenge. When Jack had catapulted after Miko, narrowly missing in his half-hearted tackle attempt, it was like a dinner bell rang.

Entertainment! Come get your free, entertainment! No broken nails or mining is required!

A pity, she’d been fascinated by the chance to create a hiding place in the walls for the whole 5 minutes the idea had spawned in her mind.

But this would work too.

Sharing a look with Raf, the pair had slyly put the computer down, still playing a collection of YouTube’s greatest survival tips, and followed their fellow homo sapiens. She may have been the oldest of the quartet, but Ashlyn was not their keeper. She was going to enjoy this little impromptu field trip while she could.

Hidden on a cliff-side, the group held front-row seats to the mini-battle that unfolded beneath them. Ashlyn hadn’t recognized the scene or location, so she’d been too engrossed in the drama to take note when Miko had once again started to move. She’d only realized that anything had changed when Raf had asked what the younger girl was doing near a cave.

Ashlyn hadn’t stopped Miko from interacting with the carvings. Not from the photos or touching the chipped pieces. The design was familiar, even as it seemed jarringly wrong, but Ashlyn couldn’t quite identify what episode those odd drawings were part of. But if they were here, they must be important.

Who was she to stand in the way of the plot?

Her hesitation was a mistake.

Bad luck had decided to strike again, and the last thing Ashlyn remembered seeing was a sudden blast and hearing the sudden screams of her companions.

In the glare of the light, Ashlyn could have sworn that the carvings had started to dance.

Thus, the latest evidence proving the Laws of Ashlyn had been added to the cosmic tally. She was unamused, but at least she was no longer bored. Ashlyn almost wished she was bored.

Yet, one must count their blessings. The air was warm and pleasant, breathable which was good. The rock that was pressing between the vertebra of her spine had not cut into it, and the tickling sensation of grass and dirt proved that she still had sensation in her limbs.

Somehow she was the unluckiest person in the world, but she still had enough luck in her to walk away with that evidence. Perhaps, in another life, she might’ve been a cat. A black cat with nine lives and the audacity that can only come from not having a single one stolen.

She smiled at the thought of sauntering down fence tops and lounging on tree branches. It must feel something like this, shadows dancing over her face as leaves danced in a merry breeze. Warm sunbeams caressed her form as she would laze away the day, blissful and unconcerned about the troubles of reality.

If only she was actually a cat.

Maybe if she opened her eyes she’d find that such a dream had been fulfilled.

Considering her luck, probably not. But now, with everything but her soul in question, she couldn’t prove that she wasn’t one. Schrodinger’s Cat was her preferred state of being usually, just for the simplicity of it. Why tack on a feline version for her sanity’s sake?

She is a cat. She is not a cat. She is Ashlyn, and that’s more than enough.

With that line of thought, the girl’s mind drifted off into a strange breed of nonsense that could not help but taper off into a dream. Ashlyn Moore took a nap, not knowing where she was but quite sure that she was alone and that such problems could wait for whenever she deemed it prudent to leave this uncomfortable spot.

Had she not been so nonchalant, some things would have carried on very differently. For instance, a man, full-bearded and with a sour attitude came across the sleeping girl. Spotting a young woman, dressed oddly and splayed out beneath a tree, Bill Williamson shouldered his gun and stared.

What exactly was he supposed to do here?

Bill had seen many strange things in his life, from his stint in the army to his career as an outlaw, life had a way of tossing weird shit all over the place.

Stepping closer to the stranger, dry earth crunching beneath his boot and fingers itching to grab the carbine repeater once more, the man gave a start as some wild beast bellowed in the distance.

It took a moment to realize it was just the lady snoring… so she was alive then. Sleeping like a baby grizzly, complete with a little snot bubble that rose and fell with every “mehu.”

Stepping back, Bill sighed and rubbed his head. Just their luck that first thing after getting off that goddamn mountain a stranger appears right outside of camp. The women hadn’t even unpacked yet, Mr fucking Morgan’s wagon with Hosea and Charles hadn’t even arrived yet! Dutch hadn’t even done one of his speeches yet and already something unexpected had happened. Lone woman or not, the situation was suspicious.

The gang couldn’t risk gaining any attention or trouble, not until they had the money to split properly. Or until Dutch come up with another plan.

Looking back at the woman, Williamson took in her odd clothes. Jeans a few sizes too small, boots that didn’t look like anything he’d ever seen and a jacket that might’ve dyed leather. Oddly dressed, yes, but, other than a branch sticking out of wild hair, she was well-groomed and appeared healthy from a quick glance. Not some poor waif, likely had a family that would notice if she went missing.

Drat.

Dutch also wouldn’t appreciate killing a random woman just because she decided to nap near the camp. Besides, there was no confirmation that she’d seen anything. No confirmation that anyone knew where she was or would suspect them if she went missing. Valentine was a small town. People talked in small towns. People were suspicious.

The Van Der Linde Gang did not need help to be seen as suspicious.

Poking her with his boot, Bill watched as that lady scowled and swatted it. He thought he could hear her muttering about something.

Leaning closer, Bill hovered over the girl in hopes of overhearing. Maybe pick up some clues on this latest shit that had been tossed his way.

He failed to account for the girl waking up.

Ashlyn Moore, opening her eyes to a strange, kinda familiar, ruffian hovering over her acted on pure, engrande reflex.

Always aim for the eyes, her mother had told her.

Her hand moved quickly, fingers winding in the coarse foul-smelling beard, and pulled. Her other hand met the surprised and teetering man’s face.

A solid crack sounded off as blood spurted. The man screamed, shrill and high as he fell back on his heels, hands too occupied with his broken nose to reach for his gun.

What luck. What wondrous, good-for-nothing, terrible luck.

“Y-you! YOU BITCH!”

Amid the whining, Ashlyn could hear trees rustling and other voices sounding off in the distance. Had she not just woken from a nap, the girl might’ve taken her wake-er hostage with that pretty rifle. Or maybe she would have demanded to speak to his boss, manager, or mother about his horrid manners. Alas, still sleep-addled, Ashlyn felt the incoming forces of retribution and bolted out of the forest, into an open clearing, and ran out into the plains without bothering to think about where she was going.

Bill for his part, was left with explaining to Javier what the hell happened when the Mexican bounded over pistol drawn and just quick enough to see a shadow darting away. As Mrs. Grimshaw set his nose and smacked his head, Javier wouldn’t stop laughing about Bill losing a fistfight to a deer.

Uncle said it must have been a branch.

Bill remained quiet, sulking as Mr. Morgan drove his wagon in and listened to the tale.

“Nah. Must’ve been a twig.”

Bill really wished he had shot that girl.

#ao3 author #ao3 #of timelines and trolleys #ashlyn moore (oc)#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #crossover #sneek peak #I have nothing but scenarios and I'm stitching it together #a quilt of nonsense #watch ashlyn set it on fire #sorry Bill #but you came at Kerian so this is my retribution #we'll come back for ya later #Arthur Morgan will be oblivious #the himbo shall be at peace #can't say the same for the rest of the gang #IVE GOT PLANNNNS DUTCH

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sttarttsar · 8 months

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The Redwood Tree

Today, I read a good book under the redwood tree. It was a book about the life around us and to adore it. I stay under the redwood because I am the book’s audience of nature. I am part of nature. I adore it. The tree was tall and mighty, eclipsing even the peaks of the other tallest lifeforms around him. Healthy roots allowed the tree to balance himself, although not to completely help him. He was a strong plant, firmly able and apt for a long life. Even without roots, he would be able to stand strong for years. Although without the nutrition of his roots, he would be a long forgotten corpse in the depth of a forest in nowhere. The hollow of the redwood was home to an elder owl. Many years ago, even before I came to the redwood, she arrived. She was a wise owl; one who emitted a spirit to the forest and its animals. The redwood always welcomed life into him, but the owl was special. The owl had a certain elegance to her; a glow in her mind. She could see what little others saw in the world: a glimpse of emotion. Not just any emotion, but of all, it was her fear. Times change, and so do the people; the magnates, the bloodthirsty, the otherworldly evils. The wise owl, the wisest of them all, saw a world burn before her at birth, a time she couldn't bear to remember. All she could see was a tall man in a dark brown suit, coming out of large vehicles in and out, and all she could see was the green in his eyes. The redwood’s hollow was the owl’s new safe space; a new niche, with whoever passes by being her new family. The redwood was a pleasant, welcoming figure. The figure I now sit under and lay to see the stars on. The figure that is like a father to me, as the owl also sees. He does not speak. But his towering elegance tells me all I need to know of him. The rustling of his leaves above in the autumn wind, some of them blowing around and piling around the ground. The scent of the dirt and the moss on the bark, piling up around the hollow where the owl lives, in an oddly harmonizing fashion. The creatures and substances around it, feeling in the distance a light crisp from a pond rich in its ozone and sea life. I once felt a squirrel run over my lap while laying under the redwood. He was a fun fellow for a bit, but he seemed in a hurry. I don’t know what he could have been in such haste for, but perhaps he was desperate to find something. Food? Water? Or perhaps the squirrel was simply on a run. Rodents are always on the move. To me, it gives them a specific angle. It makes me think of us humans; always on the move to do something, always prepared, always on the run, before one day we can’t anymore. Before one day, we’re too lost in our adventures to find our lives. The squirrel was a charming creature nevertheless. He was of the redwood. He was pure. The redwood truly yields the life of his forest together. Including me, a reader. I have told you of the book I’ve read, and how I have come to appreciate the redwood as the soul of this forest because of the book’s wisdom. But, in truth, it was not the book that taught me to search in a new dimension for life, but it was the redwood tree himself. He chants words of wisdom and yet cannot say any of them; he lets nature speak them. And if I know one thing from his words, it’s to the forest he shall return it. It being the doorway to a new dawn: away from the footings of technological despotism, from oleaginous sovereignty, from the torture us humans bring to these innocent creatures and life. But to his new leaf, in the sunrise of a new age, when he is gone.

#poetry #this took me two days #probably the best thing i've ever written right now i'm super proud of this PLEASE REBLOG THIS OR REPOST IT SOMEWHERE IDK BUT IMPROUDOFTHIS

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diejager · 2 years

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Ok so i had this random thought about your yan!diluc. How would he react if someome close to him says something bad to his S/O?

Lats say, for example, Jean ?

Disclaimer: i love jean, dont hate her at all, im simply curious because its very obvious they respect eachother

Anyways, what would happen of jean makes diluc lover cry/feel bad? Would Diluc let it slide? Would he ruin jean? Ive been thinking about this for quite some time now not gonna lie

Also i just want to say i love your fics<333

I had a spur-of-the-moment idea, so I wrote this pretty quickly.

Also, you're really sweet <333

No hate for Jean though, she's my main healer, other than Barbara and Qiqi. So I like her a lot, but it was fun writing this!

I mourneth not f'r thee! pt1

Yandere Diluc

Tw: yandere behavior, jelaousy, verbal abuse/attack, mention of punishment but no punishment.

Note: not proofread.

Wc: 1.5k

"You're not fit to become a knight, (Name)," her voice is steady and strong.

Clad in beauty and regalness, her blond curls and straight face adorned her majestic, blue eyes. Back straightened and voice steadily warm, Jean stared you down with cold, unfeeling eyes. For a woman full of purity and dignity, she shallowly declined your employment. Out of spite or out of jealousy, you couldn't tell nor could you see it. Oblivious to the cruelty of this world's citizens. That was why you decided to go against the love of your life and aim high, aim to become the thing Diluc hated: a knight of Favonius.

To help those in need without any favours returned, that's what you dreamed of, and becoming a knight was just a stepping stone. However, not being accepted by the acting grandmaster of all knights put a stop to your plans.

"Can I know why I'm unfit, Jean?" your voice wavered slightly, trying to understand where you went wrong to fix it.

Her glare was as sharp as her words, explaining all that was rightfully wrong, small and insignificant mistakes you made to prove you wrong. Her actions are vain and resentful - she knew that, but how could she not when you had all she wished for. Lisa would probably reprimand her for being so spiteful towards you, for being ruthless to a pure and innocent heart and for the tearful face she caused from all the words she spewed. The harmful and distasteful insults that she spat out with a dignified and proper tone, made her reasoning even more painful to hear. She knew you since your childhood, acquaintances through Diluc's family. She loved him and cared for him as much as you did; she was as pure as you were before your honeymoon, and she still was; she was dubbed the prettiest leading figure in Mondstadt; she was responsible and independent; and much, much more. So why? Why were you worth so much more to Diluc than she was? Was it how truly pure you looked and acted? Or maybe it was how your heart was so gentle that she just knew you would protect her from Diluc's harsh insults if he ever knew what she did to you. It could be either of those, or it could be that you had this great generosity in your soul and being that matched Diluc's fiery personality with your docile nature and caring smile. Who was she kidding, you had everything she wanted.

That's why when you came to her for help, she indulged you until the last moment when she would drop you from the high ledge she led you to; disappointing you after all the efforts you made in making connections, friends and helping gestures. Jean knew how much that would break your heart like you shattered her dreams of being with Diluc, marrying him and building a family with the man she loved.

That's why she felt no shame in her words and actions. How it became a spur of the moment driven by hate and envy, sins that corrupted her heart and rooted deep within to birth a demon of her own.

"I will not accept your candidacy, (Name). You'll have to leave disappointed in yourself and us, Knights of Favonius." Jean sat back down on her throne-like chair, looking like a king in all matters of royalty. "You can leave, now."

How cruel and brutal. She watched you leave with tear-stained cheeks, eyes puffy and red as the apples on your wet cheeks. Your fists clenched, nails piercing through the skin as you bowed politely to the acting grand master of the knights - a curious gesture even after the verbal beatdown from the leading figure.

A silent plea for help, a shoulder to cry on. That's what you needed right now. One from your husband.

With knights asking about your wellbeing to others wanting to know what happened, you brushed them off in your trail to find Diluc. Past the gates and through the streets of Mondstadt city, pushing away the worried citizens that you've helped in the past with their problems and weird requests. Mind blank and feet moving by muscle memory, you eventually arrived at Diluc's beloved tavern.

Through blurry eyes, you caught sight of Diluc's bright, fiery locks behind the counter, shaking a drink from a patron's order. He looked handsome in his area of expertise and with his hair pulled so high, unlike his usual low ponytail.

"Diluc..." your voice cracked as you called out to him, hand reaching out for him.

Orbs fleeting from his work at the familiar voice, he looked up to a scene he dreaded from the deepest parts of his heart: tears rolling down your face like waterfalls and lips puckered in a heartwrenching pout that made your brows furrow and eyes squint sorrowfully. He dropped whatever he was doing in favour of holding you in his arms. Snuggled comfortably and warmly against his chest to ward off all your pains and sorrows.

"(Name), it's alright, I'm here," he shushed you, one hand on your back and the other holding your head to his neck.

Some sober patrons inquired about your safety, but none tried to pry too deeply, this was a lover's moment. Deeming it too public to have you bawl your eyes out and howl in pain, he looked back at Charles, the second bartender :

"I'm leaving the tavern to you, we're going to the back a bit."

"Yes, Master Diluc."

Without another word uttered from the employer, he pulled you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and arms around his neck, he carried you to the storage at the back of the tavern for some much-needed privacy.

Seated on a crate with you in his lap, Diluc wiped your tears away, thumb gently massaging the skin around your puffy eyes. He wore a frown, one deeper and more concerned than his usual stoic mien.

Why wouldn't he when his darling was in tears from something he knew not?

"Darling, breathe slowly, in and out," he instructed, tone laced with worry.

Gripping his white shirt, you did as told, trying to regulate your breathing from its erratic and crying one.

"That's it, you're doing it. Take it slow, (Name)," his deep voice drowned your fears away, it calmed you down. "Good, that's it. Good work, darling."

His warm hand was rubbing your knuckles, it was soothing. His other one was helping him kiss your pearly tears away, softly and gracefully.

"Now, would you tell me what happened? Did something happen when you went to report to Jean?" he seethed at the name he uttered but tried to keep it down for your sake.

His words were soft-spoken and caring, unlike Jean's venom-laced spits.

You shook your head, not wanting to cause Jean any more problems than she already had. Your poor heart wouldn't be able to live with itself if it knew you caused more work for the sleep-deprived and workaholic knight. Although sweet, Diluc felt the opposite, he couldn't let this go without any punishment, even if he has to lie to you.

"Darling, be honest, did Jean do something to make you cry this much?" he tried again, wanting to hear an affirmation from your lips, one that would truly give him a reason to punish the blonde that hurt you.

"J-Jean didn't d-do an-any-thing," your words were mixed with hiccups and soft whimpers. "I-I just realized ho-how my cand-candidacy had so ma-ny issues w-with it."

"Is that so?" he hadn't voiced his suspicion, tone pensive and caringly warm. "What were the issues?"

"I-I- was missing s-some stuff, didn't f-feel like I helped e-enou-gh people-"

More tears leaked from your eyes, staining Diluc's clean gloves with salty water. More shushed left his thin lips that kissed your lashes and nose.

"You've helped more than all those useless knights combined, (Name). Stop doubting yourself, you've done far more than what an apprentice knight, more than a knight, would usually do in their whole lifetime. In all honesty, they don't even deserve having you in their ranks."

Diluc placed more kisses on your face and fleetingly touched your lips with his before touching the rest. He was soft and handled you with care as if you were made of fragile porcelain and glass.

"It would be better if you worked here, with me. I always feel better with you by my side, (Name). Wouldn't that sound perfect? Husband and wife, working together outside of their home. Doesn't it sound romantic?"

He knew you were a hopeless romantic and that such an offer would fluster your sweet, sweet heart. Words played well, and opinions swayed, you felt no need to decline such a proposition from Diluc. It reminded you of his proposal, poetic and blunt in its own right, but romantic all the same.

With you in his clutches 24/7, all he needed to do was find that wretched woman from the knights and discuss about her unbecoming actions.

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#yandere diluc #x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #diluc x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere diluc ragnvindr #yandere diluc x reader #jean genshin impact #jean gunnhildr #diluc ragnvindr #Diluc x reader #knights of favonius

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kojinnie · 4 years

Text

Why you should NOT date AOT boys...

Headcanon on what kind of headache you're bound for when dating the AOT boys, and why I advise you NOT to date them! Enjoy, loves!

levi - eren - armin - reiner

part two here | erwin - zeke - jean - connie

— LEVI

He's an incredible man with a lot of talents and he'd be doing real good at his job, that dating him would give you a huge sense of pride. However, this man suffers from being emotionally constipated. He'd always keep you in the fine line of "are we or are we not?", even though you’ve been seeing each other for a long time. He’d never say “I love you” or any type of flashy display of affection. His love language is acts of service and quality time, so if you’re the type to wanting outward reassurance of how someone feels about you, Levi’s not gonna be the person to give you that.

This problem stems from his deep, unresolved insecurity about the nature of relationship. It’s not just the “Am I good enough?”, he genuinely thinks that he is not a good person, and thus the inherent belief that everybody will abandon him in the end — something he picks up from his traumatic childhood. He’s wary about establishing relationship because he’s afraid to succumb into his own feelings and vulnerability. He fears at certain point he has to feel and suffer the emotional consequence of being left by someone he cares for. He dreads the idea of getting caught off-guard with being fragile.

You gotta be extremely patient and understanding when it comes to Levi, the reassurance needs to come from you, and frequently too. Bluntly saying, “I’ll stick around” or “I’ll accept your shortcoming” is really soothing for Levi, because although he never shows it, he really thinks he does not deserve you.

— EREN

If you wanna be frustrated in a relationship where you constantly feel like you’re in an endless coaster, then dating Eren gotta be your poison. Sure the honeymoon phase was intoxicating, sure he makes you feel like the prettiest girl in the world. The morning text, the playful neck peck out in the public, the butterflies you feel in your tummy when you catch him staring at you even from afar with those oh so enthralling green eyes. But once the honeymoon phase over, Eren is quick to get bored. Especially if you’re an unproblematic, matter-of-fact type of person. Eren likes to fight, he gets thrilled by it, and he’s high with the rush of adrenaline. He likes it if you’re jealous, if you sulk, if you argue. He likes you to be ‘childish’ because then he gets to be the adult, the savior, the knight in shining armor. It grinds his gears. If you’re unfazed by his antics, if you’re easy to forgive, if you’re chill, Eren will think that you’re not really into him, and will exit the closest door out before his ego gets bruised even further.

Eren is sort of babied by people around him – his parents, his friends, and constantly being compared to his older brother doesn’t help either. He realizes that he got saved a lot of times by a lot of people. And this creates a deeply rooted insecurity with him that turns into an incessant impostor syndrome. The constant thought of not being good enough and the idea that all the achievement he’s ever got was the result of someone else’s help really crush him. You can shower him with praises and reassurance, but he would completely dismiss it, because he thinks your compliments are not based on objective views and that he does not deserve it. He painfully seeks for approval from any authority figure that (he thinks) does not have any emotional connection with him. And it can be really hurtful when he constantly dismisses your sincere compliments while desperately chasing from others who don’t care about him.

— ARMIN

It’s really hard to hate Armin. He’s a really nice man through and through, but what is his strength can also be his deepest weakness. He’s too nice and unsure about a lot of things. He knows he is knowledgeable, but he often doubts himself for being too ‘text-book smart’. Which is a valid cause, because at times he would get very oblivious to how relationship works, and treat feelings like it’s a quantifiable system. It will literally take years for him to finally get down and say how he feels about you, because all these times he was so busy filling the check-list in his mind to convince himself whether you truly like him or not, even though you couldn’t be any clearer with your intention towards him.

He is perceptive with what you think and how you feel, unfortunately this does not materialize into any action as he doubts his own intuition when it comes to his significant other. He fears that his own sentimentality has affected his intuitive judgment and thus deems it invalid, which is completely untrue because every hunch he has about you has always been accurate! That’s just how much he understands and knows you from years of quietly observing and taking each of your word into account.

He really relies on you sitting him down and telling him in details how you feel and the things you expect from him. He will do it, in a flash with no hesitation, but really, he just needs that verbal affirmation that he is doing the things that you want, and it’s not just based on his assumption. So, if you like sweet surprises, impulsive dates and expect your significant other to read your mind, Armin might not be the person.

— REINER

Oh my, truthfully, he is such a sweetheart, and can be completely smitten for the entirety of his life if he has found that one person. However, it’s a treacherous road for both Reiner and you to get to that stage. Initially, when you start to get closer to him, he may seem rigid and uninterested. The first date you had with him probably went awkward and although you really liked him, you were pretty sure he didn’t like you back, until he texted you the morning after, asking for a second date. That’s basically how being with Reiner is, a series of you being sure that he feels nothing towards you, only for his following action to prove the otherwise. He is really awful in displaying his emotion, he tries to be stoic all the time, and it often frustrates you because you cannot really tell how he feels, and you fear that you might have hurt him without realizing.

He may start to open up, only when you open up first about yourself. He thrives in romance with someone who he thinks shares his inner pain, and that’s very important for him, because he is always in a position where everyone expects him to be strong, and to have a significant other that understands his struggle is all he wants. But this gets hard for you, because sometimes Reiner’s sadness can be quite extreme and you cannot match that. Once Reiner realizes that you’re not on the same boat, he may become withdrawn, as he thinks he’s a burden and inadequate for you, and may end up self-sabotaging the whole relationship he has with you.

Although he does not like to admit it, but Reiner often slips into his sadness too deep, that it almost seems like he victimizes himself with his self-hatred. He will be the one to say stupid shit like, “You deserve someone better.” Or “I cannot make you happy.” When in fact you are perfectly willing to be with him all the way through.

With Reiner, you gotta be the bigger person, with bigger gestures and bigger patience. It’s because Reiner needs an anchor and a figure to lean on. In returns he would be the best lover that you will ever have for he is selfless and will be helplessly devoted to you.

Racking my brain writing for the rest of the boys (Erwin, Jean, Connie, Pocko) because they're the ones we SHOULD date.

Update: Thanks thanks thanks for everyone who read this! I received a lot of love and you dunno how much this encourages me to keep going. Anyway, 2 things:

- My Masterlist

- Talk to meeee ♡

[ON-GOING REQUEST EVENT]: Kojinnie's 200 Followers Celebration - 24/7 Writing Event

#aot headcanons #snk headcanons #levi headcanons #eren headcanons #armin headcanons #reiner headcanons #levi ackerman #eren jaeger #armin arlert #reiner braun #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot levi #aot eren #aot armin #aot reiner

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deniigi · 3 years

Text

Please take this section from a piece about Baby Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon bonding post Bandomeer.

I’m sure that this isn’t how their master-apprentice relationship was formed but I refuse to read so this is it for me 🙃🙂

Title: platelets

Summary: After the smoke clears on Bandomeer, the Agricorps gathers 12yo Obi-Wan into their ranks and prepares to train him to become one of their own. Qui-Gon thinks they should wait a damn minute here. He’s had a change of heart.

---

Obi-Wan was no longer in the med bay. It took Qui-Gon two hours to find him and two years off his life trying to look casual under the irritated gaze of so many suspicious Agricorps members.

The foreman (forewoman) was the first to crack under Qui-Gon’s very charming smile—and she didn’t so much as crack as tell him that his attempts to be subtle disgusted her to the core.

Obi-Wan had been given over to a young lab manager. A friendly man in need of his first supervisee. He was soft at heart and, according to the foreman, very good with kids.

Qui-Gon understood implicitly and rapidly that this was his new competitor.

He asked the foreman what the knights had done to incur the corps’ ire and she told him to search his fucking feelings.

She closed the door behind him, effectively locking him into one of the Agricorps terrarium-lab bubbles.

Qui didn’t like to snoop. He loved to snoop.

Nothing was more satisfying then having a poke through the lines upon lines of glasses and test pockets that covered the tables. He had a sniff around the experimental cuttings taking root in their glasses and then took cover when he heard a voice break out into a laugh.

He peered over the edge of the counter and spotted the familiar green smock-tunic of the corps. Its owner had tan skin and narrow eyes and his back stooped into an arc. Qui-Gon craned his neck and found that the arc came over the tuft-y red hair of his future apprentice (because there was no real question here, regardless of the corps’ agitation; the knights would always get first choice over the initiates).

The lab manager, however, gave no sign of trepidation. He held in front of Obi-Wan a handful of seeds that sprouted and curled under his smile. Obi-Wan watched them with wide eyes. The manager turned his gentle face down towards Obi-Wan and nudged his hands until Obi-Wan was holding the mass as it grew.

“Look, you’re a natural,” the man said.

Obi-Wan sucked in a lip and focused hard. One of the plants’ first adult leaves began to unfurl.

“Well done. Fantastic,” the manager said. “Look at you already. Great job and for that, a reward.”

“A reward?” Obi-Wan asked, handing the tangle of roots off as the manager held out his hands for them.

“A reward,” the manager agreed, plucking one of the fat stems from the bunch and holding it out to Obi-Wan, “A snack.”

Damn. This guy was good.

The foreman was smug as a dungbeetle in shit when Qui-Gon skulked out of the lab. She asked him how his proposal had gone. He scowled at her and made off back to his quarters.

Normally, he would call someone to lament the traitorous actions of these supposed-allies, but no one was going to be sympathetic right now—not even Tahl. She was going to say what everyone else was going to say which was “Man, you had how many chances to get this right?”

He smashed his face into the pillow of his bunk, then flung it off and flattened his cheek against the mattress.

There had to be some way to turn these tides back in his favor. He wasn’t losing to the Agricorps. Master Dooku would have a heart attack. Qui’s failure in this—more than Xanatos—would kill him and then he’d have to live with that guilt for the rest of his life.

UGH.

Alright, Jinn. Think.

He had a brilliant plan. It involved a lightsaber. Obi-Wan loved lightsabers. Qui-Gon had witnessed him loving them many a time.

He scrounged up some tools and squeaked past the Agricorps security for a quick bounce off to acquire a crystal. A blue one. Obi-Wan looked like a blue saber sort of kid. It took a while to find one because everyone, everywhere, was conspiring against Qui-Gon on this. Even the Force seemed to be telling him that he was too late.

But for once, he didn’t care. There were only so many times you could fuck up before you started fucking up at least in the right direction.

He got the crystal. He brought it back to the corps headquarters and went on the hunt yet again for his (his damnit) future apprentice.

This time, Obi-Wan was in the dormitories. Qui-Gon almost gasped in horror to find him outfitted in an over-large green smock-tunic. He flapped the too-long sleeves with a goofy smile while his lab manager reached around him and tightened the belt at his waist as far as it would go.

“You’re so scrawny,” the lab manager told him. “We’ll fix that.”

Obi-Wan beamed up at him and held up his sleeve-covered hands.

“I like green,” he said.

A small piece of Qui-Gon screamed internally.

“I think you’re more of a blue, actually,” the lab manager said. “But this is what we’ve got for now. When you get bigger, we can see if there’s a blue that fits you.”

“There are so many colors,” Obi-Wan said as the manager trapped his arm and started rolling up one of the sleeves. He tried to do the same with the other on his own, which just made the manager’s job harder.

“There are,” the manager said.

“Do you get to pick?”

“You sure do.”

“How do you pick?”

The manager patted Obi-Wan’s head and turned around to hunt down something else from the spare clothing supply.

“It comes to you,” he said, muffled.

There was a long silence. Qui-Gon had just decided to step out of hiding, when Obi-Wan, looking at the rolled edges of his sleeves said,

“I think I want to leave.”

Qui-Gon’s heart stopped. The manager’s rummaging did, too. He pulled himself carefully out of the cupboard.

“Leave?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan said to his sleeves. “I think I want to leave.”

No.

“You’re a little young to leave, aren’t you?” the manager said awkwardly.

“Maybe,” Obi-Wan said. “But I’ll figure it out. If I can survive those people in the mines, then I can figure it out, can’t I? And then I can pick my colors out there. You get to pick, right? Maybe I’ll do blue after all.”

Fuck. No. Qui-Gon was gonna—

“Hey, why don’t we do this?” the manager said, setting aside a set of gaiters to kneel down in front of Obi-Wan. “Let’s give us a trial run, huh? Two months, max. I know we didn’t make the best first impression, but give us two months—eight weeks—and after that, if you don’t like it, we’ll make sure you’ve got somewhere to go when you’re ready to leave. Does that sound okay?”

Qui-Gon held his breath. Obi-Wan studied the knuckles of the hands holding his. He rubbed his split lips together.

“Eight weeks?” he asked.

“That’s all, no more and if you really, really can’t stand it, then even less,” the manager said.

“And you’ll help me? Even if I say I don’t want to stay?”

“Even if you don’t want to stay.”

Maybe Qui was operating on another, less child-friendly level here, but why in kark’s name you’d even give the boy the illusion of choice was beyond him. The answer was, truly, that the second Obi-Wan set foot away from the jedi, he’d be signing his own death sentence.

Xanatos wouldn’t care if he wasn’t Qui-Gon’s true apprentice. He wouldn’t ask those kinds of questions. He’d just seize the opportunity the moment Obi-Wan no longer had someone standing behind him, and when he was through, he’d bring the body to the Temple and lay it out cold and open-eyed on the front steps.

There were no other options for the child now. Qui-Gon was being kind with this process of trust-building. In reality, if he really needed to, he could contact Yoda and acquiesce to his previous wisdom and arguments for Qui-Gon to take the kid on. Yoda would then change the boy’s assignment and orders; he would return to the temple and thereafter again go through the selection process. But this time, Qui-Gon would select him without hesitation.

That wasn’t how Qui-Gon wanted to do this, but if the boy thought that he was going to leave, to step out into the cold of space, then to spare him a cruel, meaningless death, Qui-Gon would.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said quietly to the manager.

“Anytime, hon,” the manager said. “Who knows, anyways. You might even like it here.”

The trouble with the damn Agricorps was that they were phenomenal talkers. They talked to people about their problems and all these insecurities and they gave them food and drinks and told jokes and laughed and hefted their littlest supervisees up onto their shoulders and all that served to make their members loyal to each other to a fault.

In short, Obi-Wan’s lab manager was winning this battle more every day.

This was not helped at all by the fact that Qui-Gon had discovered through a surprise meeting that Obi-Wan was afraid of him.

They’d bumped into each other in the hallway as Obi-Wan came from the mess hall and Qui-Gon went to drop off some documents, and the kid scrambled away from him and flattened himself against the corridor’s wall.

Some serious meditation (and agitating Mace, great tower of sleep-deprived wisdom) had brought Qui-Gon to the conclusion that yeah, a month in forced labor, being banished to a mine, food deprivation, physical assault, and so on really did a number on a twelve-year-old’s trust in people and their associates.

Further, Mace pointed out that Qui-Gon was approximately ‘half a mile tall and covered in overgrowth.’

He did not appear to be a soothing presence to children. Mace said that if he’d deigned to join him and the other masters in chatting and cuddling the younglings in the crèche, this wouldn’t have been a problem, but alas, Qui, you stuck-up nerfherder. You reap what you sow.

Mace’s hind and foresight was, as per usual, invaluable.

Qui-Gon decided that he was going to be the nice version of himself. He was going to smile at Obi-Wan. That would do it.

It didn’t do it.

The foreman came to Qui-Gon’s quarters to gleefully tell him not to approach the corps’ young supervisees unprompted. He was giving the children hives.

He explained to her outright that he intended to take Obi-Wan on as his apprentice.

She told him good luck. Obi-Wan, she claimed, was already settling in with the others. He was making friends. And Qui-Gon wasn’t so cruel as to separate such a traumatized boy from such comfort, now was he?

But there, she was mistaken.

He definitely was that cruel.

The foreman told him to die miserable and slammed his door.

It took another two tries, but eventually, he managed to find Obi-Wan tucked away on one of his breaks from his training in the lab. He appeared to be at a loss for what to do with himself. He’d settled against a window and had splayed both hands on it as he stared out into the cracked soil of Bandomeer.

Qui-Gon watched him for a little while and then cleared his throat.

Obi-Wan jumped. His eyes came up for the briefest second and then his head went down.

“Master,” he greeted.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon replied. “You seem bored.”

Guilt colored the boy’s cheeks in a flush.

“I’m not bored, Master,” he said, fidgeting with his rolled sleeves.

“May I sit?” Qui-Gon asked, gesturing next to where Obi-Wan knelt. He nodded and arranged himself in a more dignified posture. Qui-Gon let him; he sat down next to him, grumbling and creaking and popping.

His bones weren’t what they used to be.

Once he was finally more or less comfortable, he turned to notice Obi-Wan staring at him with eyes like a cat’s.

“What? You never seen an old man sit?” he asked.

“What happened to your hair?” Obi-Wan asked.

Oh.

“It’s in a bun,” Qui-Gon explained, reaching up to release the mane. It tumbled down over his shoulders and cheered for fresh air.

Obi-Wan’s gaze became even more cat-like. Qui-Gon fought off a smirk.

“You want to touch it?” he asked.

The kid looked away abruptly.

“It’s okay. You can touch it,” Qui told him. “It looks better than it feels, I must say. Needs a trim—look at these ends, little one. I ought to be arrested for crimes against decency.”

Aha. Gotcha. Look at that wobble in those lips. Trying not to smile. They’d see how long that worked, now wouldn’t they?

He badgered Obi-Wan until he finally broke and reached up to brush his fingers against the hair Qui-Gon put within his reach. His attention snapped into place.

“It’s soft,” he said, amazed.

His fingers started combing without permission. Qui-Gon let it happen.

“Very useful for cold climates—have you ever felt a snow-yak, Obi-Wan?” he asked.

The boy shook his head. Of course, he hadn’t.

“Do you know what they look like?”

Another shake.

“Well, perhaps one day, you will see them,” Qui-Gon said indulgently. “When I was a boy, my master told me not to try to pet them—he told me at every step of the way, he knew me well. But you know what I did?”

There was that smile now.

“You pet them?” Obi-Wan asked.

“I sure did,” Qui-Gon told him. “And you know that they did?”

“Kicked you?”

“Me? No. I was too small a target. They charged my master—Master Dooku; you may have heard of him.”

Obi-Wan shoved his giggles into his palms.

“I want to pet one,” he said.

“Yes, you do look like the type,” Qui-Gon said. “Tell me, Obi-Wan, what are your feelings on pathetic lifeforms?”

“What’s that?”

“You tell me. What’s a pathetic lifeform to you?”

Obi-Wan settled in and thought about it as he gazed out the window’s thick glass.

“Me,” he decided.

Bless him.

“You?” Qui-Gon said incredulously. “No, no. You saved a jedi master. I said ‘pathetic.’”

“Me,” Obi-Wan insisted again.

Qui-Gon held a finger out between them.

“If you are a pathetic life form, then I am in grave danger,” he said.

The giggle this time wasn’t hidden. It make Qui-Gon’s own grin grow.

“I was thinking a lothcat,” he admitted. “Or a dragon—love a dragon. Of course, the yak—perhaps not pathetic to my master, but to others yes. They’re not smart, Obi-Wan, poor things.”

“You like animals,” Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon weighed this statement with his head.

“’Animals’ isn’t quite broad enough, but yes, they fall into the category,” he said. “I’m also a big fan of rescuing the plants that no one can keep alive.”

Obi-Wan brought up his knees and wrapped his arms around them. He settled a soft cheek onto the top of the right one.

“That’s what I’ll be doing here,” he said.

“Indeed,” Qui-Gon said.

There was a long pause. The boy sniffed softly.

“You will be happy here,” Qui-Gon told him gently. “They will take care of you.”

Another sniff. An eye scrubbed with a too-long sleeve.

“I’m sorry I’m not good enough,” Obi-Wan whispered.

Well, this was a conversation Qui-Gon hadn’t wanted to walk into. There were, from his vantage point, a few ways out of it, but at the end of each of those paths was a set of brown eyes framed by intense, wispy green brows.

“You are good enough,” Qui-Gon said. “I am just a foolish master. You deserve someone better than me, Obi-Wan.”

“There is no one else,” Obi-Wan said.

“There will be,” Qui-Gon said.

“No, there won’t. I’m out of time. All that’s left for me is...this,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing to the landscape beyond the window.

Qui-Gon studied it; the cracks in the soil, the piles of broken stones.

“It is a little bleak,” he admitted.

“What is it like for non-jedi people?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do they go to school? How do they find somewhere to sleep?”

“You will not be a non-jedi person,” Qui-Gon said.

There was a long pause.

“What?”

Qui-Gon sucked in a breath and let his shoulders fall.

“Unless you really want to be one,” he added. “Apologies, I spoke without thinking.”

Those blue eyes were the same color as the crystal in Qui-Gon’s pocket. He put his hand inside of it and pulled the carefully wrapped parcel out so that Obi-Wan could see it. He rolled it slowly until only the crystal sat in his palm.

“There is greatness in you, Obi-Wan,” he said. “And I am not a good enough Master, but you are more than a deserving padawan.”

The eyes flicked from the crystal to Qui-Gon’s face once, then twice.

“Do you mean it?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Are you okay with having a silly master?” Qui-Gon asked. “I will not sugar-coat it—one of my students has already fallen. I am the type of person who Master Windu has been dreaming of the unfortunate demise for since we were children.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan asked with eyes only for the crystal.

“Excellent question. I am told that my brain is fundamentally ill-suited for human interaction,” Qui-Gon said with a smile.

Obi-Wan huffed.

“Does Master Windu really dislike you so much?” he asked.

“He speaks to me in such ways only out of love. My other friends say that I am dedicated intensely to the flight of fancy.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Obi-Wan said.

“You know, funny thing,” Qui-Gon told him, reaching over to take his hand and press the crystal into it, “Neither do I.”

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #qui-gon jinn #I think Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon should be the kind of apprentice and master who deserve each other #and by that I mean that they both do shit that make the other's teeth grind but they bear it with a smile #fic #ficlet

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years

Text

Chapter 9

WC: 1196

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: fluff?, mentions of physical disability & self consciousness, mentions of substance use

A/N: Wavy Gravy is the raddest man. I love him.

🧠

The room was beyond crowded as you stood next to Dr. Kreizler. Bitsy really wasn’t joking when she told you how chaotic these conferences get. You had already sat through one reading with him that morning. It was interesting enough.

“And you must be the famous TA Laszlo has told us all about!” came a rich bellow from behind you. You whipped around to face the man, a good head taller than you. He wore a bright smile which was so in contrast to the face of the doctor.

“Oh…?” you go to shake his proffered hand.

“John Schuyler Moore, photojournalism professor and friend of our dear alienist.”

“Oh! Yes, Dr. Moore,” nodding your head a little, you notice a much shorter blonde woman stroll up beside him. “Please, just John is fine,” he insists.

“Don’t give the poor girl a heart attack, John. Sara Howard, it’s nice to finally meet you.” You shake hands as well. She is petite, but right away you can sense a strength and poise about her. “Laszlo has told us a great deal about you.”

You glance at the man from the corner of your eye. He is giving Sara a stern look. “I see. I wasn’t aware he spoke of me.”

“He sings your praises on the regular,” she laughs.

An awkward grunt makes its way up your throat at her comment. He’s told you that your work was ‘satisfactory’ but there was no way he would go so far as to talk about you with his friends and colleagues. You figure the two are just being friendly.

“Laszlo, if I may,” John signals to another part of the room for the doctor to follow. With a nod the two men go off, leaving you with Dr. Howard.

She moves in to stand closer to your side. “I hope he’s been treating you well, Laszlo is not the easiest to deal with at times. He pays no mind to what is considered polite conversation etiquette.” At your blanching she adds “you can speak freely with me about it. He can be an ass, I’m the first to admit and call him out on it.” She smiles at you.

“Dr. Howard I’m-”

“Oh no please, call me Sara. We aren’t so far apart in age and you’re a graduate student. There is no need for formal titles.” The two of you chat for almost half an hour, mostly on the topic of the doctor before the men rejoin you. You don't speak as you would with Bitsy, but you find it very easy to trust and confide in Sara. John looks rather pleased with himself upon his return. You do catch the slight wink he gives Sara. Dr. Kreizler, on the other hand, appears as though he’s been told he needs a root canal.

The four of you spend the next couple hours perusing the new selections and attending a few of the reading demonstrations. John is almost like a dog, you think, overly friendly and does his best to include you in the conversations the trio have. Sara communicates with you through her facial expressions and eye rolls at the men. You are certain you even hear the doctor crack a joke or two. You carry the tote bag of books that Kreizler has purchased, despite John repeatedly attempting to assist. It’s good that the doctor has people like them, you think.

Sara and John eventually excused themselves for the night. Around 8pm the doctor turns to you. “There is a reading on a new monograph about Woodstock that starts in fifteen minutes. I have put our names on the list.”

You blink at him. “Woodstock. Like sex, drugs, and rock & roll, Woodstock '69, Woodstock?”

“Is there another?” He lifts his brows in exasperation as he considers you.

“No? Doesn’t sound like something you’d be into, though,” you argue lightly.

“Not particularly. But I thought you would find it useful towards your own studies. I know you are fond of it.”

A faint flutter broke out in your gut at his words. Never in your life had you thought this man would care enough to think of you and your own interests, especially not when this trip was for his own benefit. You had assumed you would need to beg to be let off for a few hours to seek out the history and sociology seminars. Time had frozen as you stared at him.

Maybe he did care?

“Are you alright?” he finally asked, concerned.

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. That sounds really great, thank you.”

Dr. Kreizler guides you to the proper hall and you find your seats. The space was more cramped than you were overall comfortable with. Or rather, you were uncomfortable due to the proximity in which you and the professor sat. At least that is what you told yourself.

The room was packed, chairs placed tightly together. You sat to his right side. It was close enough that you could smell the cologne he wore; something spicy and citrusy and intoxicating. Barely a hair's breadth separated you from each other. He was warm against you. Often your thighs would touch, or even his weaker arm along your own. You could just feel the boney limb through your sleeves, which often hid how skinny it truly was compared to his left side. If it bothered him he gave no indication.

Midway through you lean close to his ear. “You know, the whole concept shouldn’t have worked. It was fucked from the get go. They literally had everything working against them, the rain, the traffic, the lack of sanitation, food. Wavy Gravy and his posse really made all the difference. When things got rough he was able to use psychoanalysis techniques to encourage the new social ideals of free love and the 'cooperative', reminding everyone why they were there in the first place. He appealed to the collective psyche of the counterculture movement. The whole thing is insane!”

You don’t notice how close you had gotten to him as you spoke, your chest was nearly pressed against his shoulder. At first you touching along his bad arm made him want to instinctually pull away. As you spoke you were still facing the stage, paying no mind to the feel of it. It quelled his anxiety that you didn't seem to care. So Laszlo had tilted his head closer towards you as you whispered. He found that your eyes were lit up similar to when you would argue with him. But this time it wasn’t because you were annoyed at him - this time it was because you were passionate and excited - and it was breathtaking.

You face him when he doesn't respond; only a few inches separate you. His eyes lock with your own. A beat passes and he doesn't look away. "What?" you ask. Maybe you had offended him by speaking during the lecture?

Laszlo gathers himself. "It seems you have been paying attention during my lectures.” He smirks.

You face back forward in hopes that he doesn’t see the heat in your cheeks. “Don’t flatter yourself too much, professor.” You can feel his silent chuckle.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams

#the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #daniel bruhl laszlo kreizler #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #laszlo kreizler fanfic #daniel bruhl fanfiction #scuttle-buttle

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lemonjoonah · 4 years

Text

Blood Bounty - Part 3 (M) - Finale

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader, Taehyung x Reader, ft. Seokjin x Namjoon Word Count: 15.5K Rating: M Genre: Historical fantasy AU, Vampire AU, Thriller, Drama, Smut Warnings (CONTAINS SPOILERS): Dub-con (consent is freely given but the context is dubious), non-con vampire feeding, non-con kiss, unprotected sex, light bondage, oral sex (f. rec.), cum eating, pain during intercourse (don’t be like the OC here in the beginning and try to conceal it, you should tell your partner if something hurts), somewhat antiquated thoughts on virginity, virgin reader (it’s a flashback and there’s a small amount of blood...), death of major and minor characters, drugging (with vampire blood), murder, violence, blood, gore, sexism, blood slavery, kidnapping, captivity, forced marriage, manipulation, gaslighting, once again it’s some pretty dark shit, consider yourself warned.

| Series Masterlist |

Summary: He’s taken everything from you, your blood, your memories, your life, and after months spent as Taehyung’s own personal feast, you eagerly take your chance to flee. Unfortunately your escape doesn’t go as well as you had hoped, as you are soon caught by another blood thirsty beast. The vampire Yoongi claims to know you, and that he wishes to return you home. But when you can only remember the pain caused by his kind, you find it difficult to trust him, since he too could just be another monster waiting to feed.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who stuck with me through this mini-series. I truly hope you enjoy the end of this tale (and the hints to another separate series in the works 😉).

...

Your new stead is surprisingly responsive to your commands, possibly desiring to get as far away from the predators as you. Taking you down the road to the kingdom at a startling pace, causing several branches to whip painfully in your direction. When a stinging blow inevitably lands on your brow, enough to draw a spot of blood, you pull back on the speed of your mount. You are not so far now that you worry about making it back before nightfall.

The route home becomes more populated the closer you get. For the first time in years you are among people like you again. Those who see you as just another person passing by, not a temping entree, nor a traveller to rob. Some even nod to you as they cross your path, you respond in kind, but keep your face hidden beneath the hood of your cloak.

Your first few paces inside the town comes as quite a shock. The notable gathering spots are even more vacant than they were during your nighttime strolls. With the stalls of the market bare, and so many businesses closed, the only well occupied space appears to be the mounted boards on the end of every other street. You stop at one littered with official orders for curfews, new regulations, and missing souls. The most notable of all to you is the obituary detailing your brothers passing.

You swallow back your grief, and proceed to examine the document claiming that he had died of a devastating injury and no more. It seems your parents will still not admit to any weakness that might carry in the family's blood. But with each stamped flyer, there’s been an addition made, one that was obviously not approved by the crown.

‘The crown prince is dead, and our princess lost. If we let them rule any longer we will be next!’

You are stunned by the note, fearing how bad the circumstances must have become in your absence. Backing away from the board you prod your stead onward and in the direction of the public stables. Hoping to find the mount it’s own new home, while you return to yours.

“Three pence for a night,” The master grunts, looking up from his work as you dismount near the entrance to the paddock.

“I have no coin, but-”

“No coin, no stall. Don’t waste my time and move along.” He interrupts before returning to shovelling the pungent manure.

You wrinkle your nose at the odour and persist in your efforts. “I was going to offer for you to take ownership of him instead. I have no use for him now.”

“Keep him? Tell me, how did you come to own this stead? Is it truly yours? ” He leers down, placing you beneath his scrutinous glare. “People don’t just give up a worthy horse. How can I know that there is not someone out there who will come looking for it and will blame me for their loss?”

“I can assure you the last owner will not come to retrieve him. Now do you want the horse or should I go find another who is willing to take my offer? Maybe that nice family there.” You point to a couple making their way into a nearby building.

Your bluff calls his, leading the man to grimace and huff, “Fine. I will take it, now be gone with you.”

With the horse now tended to, you start to walk away, passing the entrance to the tavern, the door the mentioned pair just walked into. It’s hard not to take note of its current occupancy, for it is packed with people, all shouting and trying to have their say. With the entryway cracked open an inch you are able to catch several snippets of the debate.

“We can’t wait any longer. They are changing the narrative as we speak! Now stating they hold out hope for the princess’s return.”

“And what if she does?” A familiar man stands in argument. “Would you have us send the kingdom into turmoil when hope still exists? I would not be as I stand before you today without the surgeon she sent to us. A blacksmith cannot work without a hand. My wife and I would have been out on the street before long.”

“Can you not see what they are doing for what it is?” The first speaks again to counter his point. “It’s a convenient ploy! With an heir lost, only the promise of another, with more favour than them will quell our anger. If she was still alive they would have found her by now.” He pauses to pat the smith on the shoulder. “I mourn her loss too my good friend, but we can’t wait for a small sliver of hope when we continue to live the way we do. Taxed within an inch of our livelihoods, while the list of missing continues to grow and those who are in charge hide behind their walls, keeping secrets that affect us all. If she returns we can offer her a good standing among us. But their rule must end.”

You edge closer and closer to the door trying to get a better view of the meeting in progress, when a throat clears and grunts, “Run along lad...” Nearly jumping from the fright you turn around to find the stable master having come up from behind. Bowing your head you comply, thankful that he had not realized the gravity of what you overheard.

What had truly happened in the time you were gone? This isn’t just contempt but a full blown revolution building. Your people think you dead, and understandably so, but if they see that you are alive and well, maybe a better path can be found than one that will surely end in blood.

When considering your options you know there will be no way in through the front gates, your parents have always kept them heavily guarded, and no one will believe you are the child of the king and queen dressed as you are now. Rather than stir up trouble, you proceed to your fastest route in, the trap door hidden on the perimeter.

In your absence it appears to have remained unused. The roots of the hedge have grown over, needing to be tugged out of place until the hinges and wood are freed from their grasp. You drop down into the passage, closing the hatch behind. With no light, nor lantern you are left to navigate the abandoned hall in the dark. The palm of your hand brushes against the damp stone wall, crossing cobwebs and critters on it’s trek to lead you to the portrait door. You try your best not to think of the time spent in this place, and the company you are now left without, but the sound of your steps resonates around you. Tricking your ear into thinking it a whisper of the past, as if his promises still remain locked away down here, echoing off the bedrock for you to claim.

You are grateful when you finally reach the castle's interior, although for the time of day even the palace appears deserted and cold, you slip about the halls feeling like a stranger in your own home. Hoping to return to your old bedroom before you find anyone else, so you can at least reclaim another part of what you once were. But when you find the door and step inside someone is already there, crying at the foot of your bed. It’s too late to back away for they look up, just as startled as you. It’s your former lady’s maid who steps back from shock at your appearance, followed by a baffled stare when she catches a glimpse of your face.

“My word...” She gasps as tears continue to roll down her cheeks, “I never thought I’d see you again. He brought you back, I can’t believe he brought you back.” She runs forward wrapping her arms around you, a blubbering speech follows. “I’m so sorry, your b-brother... he’s gone. After everything that happened, everything you did, he’s still gone. An-and the threats to the crown, ever since his death everyone has been in an uproar. I haven’t dared to leave the grounds out of fear that someone will know I work here.” “It’ll be okay. We will figure this out.” You attempt to calm the maid you can only remember fragments of. She must have thought you had run off with Yoongi that night, but now is not the time to correct her with actual horrors you endured.

“Having you back now will surely pull the king and queen from their stupor. They have been pleading and praying for your return.” She looks down at your clothes with apprehension. “Court is in session right now. They are locked away until a matter is settled, but we can ready you to meet with them once they are finished.” You nod prompting her to seek out your wardrobe. “I’ve been keeping them well looked after in case of your return.” She pulls out a dark dress, a sign of mourning for your brother. “I believe this will still fit. You don’t look to have changed much.”

As she laces you in you can feel the garment tug on your ribs and chest. Maybe a little too small, but it will have to do for the time being. Once finished she escorts you to the dining room, while you continue to marvel at the empty halls. “Where is everyone?”

“Much has changed... your parents' fears have grown in the time you’ve been gone. They feel they can trust far fewer than they have before, and so, many of the staff were let go. If anyone ever even asked about you they too were sent away.” She stops at the set of double doors and urges you inside. “If you remain here and I will go and have the King and Queen informed as soon as the proceedings let out.”

“Wait, don’t leave...” You were going to ask her more questions to address the gaps in your past, hoping you might stir more than a few moments you have of her and your life here, but she has already closed the door and departed.

You are left in the dining hall, waiting only with the excessive spread of your parents forthcoming dinner. The feel of the room compared to the passage below is unfamiliar, unlike the dark narrow tunnel this place is void of memory and the feelings that come with it. You pray that such a disconnect will not last long.

Mounted up on the back wall you find your family’s portrait. Staring at it at the faces and details, you remain so until slivers of the painting's creation surfaces in your mind. You hated that gown, for its rigid seams and heavy fabric took quite a toll as you stood there for hours behind your brother. He was seated due to his condition but you were told to stand and remain still, while the prince takes the forefront of the picture.

It had been made not long before you disappeared from the kingdom. You can recall dwelling on how little blood you had left, while the painter took your likeness. Your parents look so happy in the portrait, thinking their son to be healing and ready to take on the throne, while you spent the whole time daydreaming of Yoongi’s return.

Your anger spikes as you think of him now, it is beyond doubt that he has noticed your absence. You will have to warn your parents and their guard of his possible travel to the kingdom to claim you for his clan. The secret passage will have to be sealed, taking with it your hopes to ever leave again.

Grabbing one of the many decanters and with a shaking hand pour yourself a goblet of wine. Seeking to soothe your trepidation of meeting your parents, you sip on the bitter drink while picking at the food of the central spread.

The hours pass while you take your fill, until finally, when the sky has long been dark your mother hurries first. Looking exactly the same as she once did in your memories, frantic and worried. “Thank heavens you are back. You are safe, we are safe.” She looks down at you, her face unchanged with time, and the skin of the arms which clutch you... you stare at them for a moment, perfect and untouched, but you remember... you recall deep gashes and blood, so much blood pouring down your fingers. Disturbed by the thought you shake yourself from your horrific vision and smile back at her. Expecting her to launch into a flurry of questions but to your surprise, both her and your father pose no queries.

“We knew he would find you again,” your mother cries with happiness. “We knew he would bring you back. The people, they will be so thrilled to hear of your return. The threats, the violence it will all be over soon.”

“You knew him? You asked him to find me?” The facts of her statement confuse you greatly, had they been privy to information your maid had not? For if she thought you were with him... what did your parents believe?

“My dear, are you well? Of course we did.” Your gaze once again focuses on the flesh of her forearms, as if entranced to the spot, while she brushes at your unkempt hair. Upon following your sight she pulls at the shawl of her dress in an awkward fashion, covering the length of her exposed skin. “Think not of what happened at our parting. All is well.” A painted grin plasters your mother's face. “We made all the changes necessary, you my darling, are to be next in line, not your children, but you. Your father had to work so hard to gain the approval of his lords, they thought it pointless to change the law in your absence, but here you are! Once your consort holds up the rest of his bargain your father will sign and you will be heir to the throne.”

This is all too much, you trying to keep hold of all the information while more is poured on to you. Unable to focus on anything other than their knowledge of Yoongi. Did they really meet him and make the request of him to bring you home? But to what bargain are they referring? “He did but I fear his clan has plans to remove me once again. We have to guard the old passage too, it’s already been nightfall for some time and I fear he won’t be far behind.”

“My poor girl... are you sure you are not ill?” Your mother’s head tilts in confusion. “He is already here, he has been for some time... you fled from his estate when he was just about to send for your return.”

You step away from your parents as fear tightens and grips your chest. “No, you can not mean. Not him, please not him-”

But your greatest nightmare returns to join you, with Taehyung waltzing through the double doors as if your parents castle is his own. “Princess, so good of you to join us. You shouldn’t have run off like that, you had your parents worried.” He approaches, inciting you to back into a wall in an attempt to keep your distance. Your parents don’t react with shock or fear at his sudden advancement on you, surely it is just a dream or vision then? One you are bound to wake up from soon. “But I knew you couldn’t run from me... only towards. Isn’t that right my sweet princess?” Though when his breath comes to find your ear you know him to be real. “I would have gone to find you myself, and take you back sooner, but your parents have been a rather large thorn in my side. Refusing to let me go until I-”

“And what of the other part of our bargain?” Your father calls from behind Taehyung, who grimaces and rolls his eyes at the interruption.

“They will be here shortly. My kin are acting on my behalf tonight, for I could wait no longer when I heard news of her arrival.”

“You have short changed us before,” the king admonishes. “I will not sign until I am certain the problem is dealt with.”

Taehyung turns from you entirely, the accusation leading him to snap back in anger. “That was your own doing, not mine, human. I gave you what you asked and you chose to squander it.”

With Taehyung now focused on your father, you are ready to run, to seek anything you might use against him, but your mother catches you before you can take two steps.

Shouting and jeering can be heard from just outside of the room, along with the heavy footfalls of several men, far too loud for what should be expected of the staff and guard. The procession outside bursts into the dinning hall. Your father’s lip curls ever so slightly as several men are pushed to their knees in front of him, muzzled and chained by the vampiric clan that restrains them.

Taehyung introduces them with a proud and theatrical air, as he takes a seat at the head of the table. “As you requested my liege, the leaders of the now failed rebellion.”

You recognize many of them from the tavern earlier, even the blacksmith whose hand Yoongi saved long ago. Your father after taking stock, waves them away, ordering them to be held out of his sight, until a public execution can be arranged.

You open your mouth to argue and condemn such brutal tactics when you are pushed down in the chair beside the monstrous vampire by your own mother. “You will sit still, be quiet, and do your duty for the family.” Despite her insistence your nails claw at her hold trying to free yourself from his side. As blood breaches her skin, so too does the memory of your first meeting with the vampire lord.

...

-Five years ago-

You look through the streets for hours hoping to catch even a glimpse or a whisper of Yoongi. Asking several people who pass you by, but no one knows of his whereabouts, nor has seen the distinguished surgeon in months.

With the sun ready to rise, you retire from town for the night. Stripping from the simple dress, you toss it to the side and return to bed for the hour you have left to sleep. When forced awake by duty, your day ultimately passes with you a hollow shell. Barely able to keep your eyes open from lack of rest, with a gnawing disappointment taking root in your stomach, distracting you from much else. You tell your maid of your plans to venture out again to find him, but she looks concerned by the prospect.

“You can hardly stand! What if, as a result of your current state, you cannot find him tonight? Your brother needs this and if you should fail... maybe we should tell the king and queen and let them put out a search for him?”

“No, I must do this on my own. He would not want them to be aware of his kind.” You go to take the plain gown but your maid grabs it first.

“I understand that you feel you must go. But please take an hour or two to sleep before you journey out. You look dead on your feet.” She does not relent, prodding and scolding until you are between the covers of your bed. “I will wake you once the castle is quiet enough for you to leave without being spotted.”

Nodding in agreement you submit to the coma of slumber rather quickly while she sits in the seat across from your bed. You wake hours later not by the hand of your staff, but from the hammering of rain pelting at your window.

You rise and call out, confused as to why she did not wake you earlier, but no answer responds. Lighting the candle on your bedside you find the chair empty of both her and the dress. You jump from your bed, in only your dressing gown and slippers reach for the door. When she bursts through it first, wearing the dress you intended to wear on the street.

“Where were you? Why didn’t you-”

“Princess, I found him!” Your lady’s maid exclaims happily, despite being absolutely drenched from the weather outside. “I went in your place so you could have more time to rest, and I found your friend, or I should say he found me.”

“You found him?” You breathe a sigh of relief, your brother is now safe and your plans with Yoongi can come to fruition. “Where is he now?”

“He’s with the king and queen.”

“My parents?”

“He wished to see them, mentioned something about desiring their permission. He’s already healed your brother, your mother and father couldn’t believe it.” She grabs hold of your hand and pulls you from the room, not caring that you don only your bed attire. “Come! They are waiting for you.”

Still half asleep and only semi-coherent you allow yourself to be ushered along to your father’s den. There he sits behind a desk quill pen in hand, your mother hanging over his shoulder, and settled across from them both is... someone who is not your vampire, someone who is not Yoongi.

The stranger smiles, showing off his sharp teeth as he gets up from his seat to deliver a sweeping bow. “Lord Kim Taehyung, at your service princess.”

You take a step back upon hearing the name that Yoongi warned you of so many times. “W-why are you here?” With concern immediately drifting to your lost vampire, for if his enemy has found you what could have befallen him.

Your mother scolds your response, “This man has offered his assistance, to aid in your brother's care, you will show him your respect.”

“It’s no matter,” Taehyung shakes his head at your mother. “Though I must ask, why do you look so scared princess? Your maid was looking for one of my kind, were you not seeking my help?”

“Is this true?” Your mother interjects, glaring at you. “You knew of people like him, those who could help your brother and you told us nothing?”

“I was looking for another,” you attempt to explain. “One who had been helping us in the past without your knowledge, he forbade me from revealing his kind to you.”

“What did this other tell you of me?” The lord smiles. “I should like to set my story straight, because you, princess, looked ready to flee the moment you heard my name.”

“What is it that you want?” You ask again. If he refuses to answer your question why should you obey his own. “I thought your kind did not wish to reveal their existence to humans.”

“When the situation is as important as this, exceptions can be made.” The vampire justifies, a crooked grin refusing to leave his mouth. “I am only here to offer my services to your family.”

“We already have the services of another. He was doing so for years before you came here, he will help my brother should he need it in the future.”

“Then where is he now?” Taehyung asks the dreaded question which stabs at your heart.

“He will be back...” You retort, hoping it to be the honest truth. “We do not require your help.”

Your father silences you with the stern call of your name and the hammer of his fist on his desk, before he too jumps into the argument. “I will overlook the concealment of your past acquaintances, along with the fact that you gave your brother treatment without our knowledge and consent. But I will not have you demean this man who just saved his life.”

“He is not a man!” You shout back at your king and father. “He is a monster. I have been told of his misdeeds, of his ethics. We can not trust him-”

“We have no choice! Without an heir the whole kingdom will become a place of ruin, an unclear line of descent will lead to chaos.”

“Then we wait. We wait for the one I can trust. He will be back soon, I know it.” Certain at least in this instance you know better than your parents, you plead for them both to listen.

“This is not a discussion.” Your father clarifies while the vampire takes out a bag, pulling from it two large corked bottles filled with a fluid far thicker than wine. “We called you here merely to inform you that we have accepted his services.”

“This should be enough to keep him healthy for a long span of human life. It will heal most ailments, and injuries, and when enough is consumed will even slow the course of ageing.” You watch as the vampire's attention falls on your mother during his explanation, his lip curls even further when her eyes brighten in interest over the properties of the cure.

You go to her, grabbing her arms so that she will focus on you alone, trying to convince her of the vampire's true nature. “This is a trick it must be. You can’t accept this, he will bring only ruin.”

“All that remains is the payment.” The Lord Taehyung adds, ignoring your plight.

Your gaze snaps back to him, when you hear of his charge. “What payment? What did you ask of them?”

“The cost for such a bounty of blood requires an equal sacrifice on your family's part.” The vampire beams with delight. “The blood needed for his life, in exchange for the blood of yours.”

Your stomach drops when you see your father dip his head in confirmation. They already knew the cost and still they bartered you off without much thought. Your hands continue to grip your mother’s arm. “Please... please listen to me. It doesn’t have to be like this. There’s another way, there has to be.”

“There is no other way.” She responds, her tone cold enough to match her words. “It is time you stop living in your dreams dear girl, those books you cling to, those maps you draw, they will bring us nothing in the end. You have scorned numerous suitors in the past few months alone, leaving your father and I at wits’ end trying to secure a noble future for you. If you will not have that duty, you will take this. Better to have your hands stained with blood than ink if it will at least save our prince.”

As she starts to push you towards your new fate, your fingers dig into the soft flesh of her arm, desperate to try and keep hold of your past life. Taehyung takes you by the waist and pulls you towards him leaving long lacerations down your mother’s skin as you continue to sob and beg for her to stop this. The thumb of your captor crosses your lips, bringing with it a metallic taste to your tongue. There’s a hushed order whispered in your ear to be quiet and complacent, and you do just that. Relaxing into Taehyung's arms while he carries you out and into a waiting carriage in the dark and drenched courtyard.

Once out from the castle walls his slick smile falls. He may have taken your ability to speak, but not your tears will to flow. Pulling out a kerchief, he cleans your hands of your mother's blood. After removing every spot he lifts the fabric to his nose, and winces at the smell. “It is still amazing to me that one like yourself could be born of such soiled stock.” He then tosses the cloth out the window of the carriage. “That’s better.” His hand lifts up to the stream that continues down your cheeks. “Do not weep my princess. They may not see the same value in you that I do, but I promise we will prove it to them soon.”

Angered by his declaration, you look away to the door, not wanting to give Yoongi’s adversary the satisfaction of your gaze. You knew you always weighed less in your parents mind. For you were second in their hearts even before your brother was conceived, second to the mere hope of a son. Swaying their love even a fraction in your favour was and is an impossible feat, a battle you could never win.

“I know you wished to leave them, my kin intercepted a letter addressed to a royal who was willing to abscond with a vampire.” You look back at him with eager eyes. A letter? Yoongi must have sent word and this lord stopped it from reaching you. “I see that I have your attention now do I?” Taehyung scoffs and sits back in the carriage clearly enjoying your regard. “I knew of a woman much like you before I became what I am. I once travelled the land with a troupe. Entertaining both the nobles and the masses, while dressed in simple white garments, with only a tapestry as a backdrop, and the floor as our stage. It was invigorating, the life that came from holding the eye of the courts, and one lady... one princess in particular.”

Taehyung pauses to look back at your castle before continuing his tale. You can do nothing but sit there and listen, his blood and previous demands continuing to hold you in his custody.

“She too was not content with the possible suitors before her, they could not offer her the multitude of lives she wished to live, but through narratives and plays I fulfilled that need. We could become whatever she or I wished ourselves to be. I was sure to see her as often as I could, but when her parents learned of our tryst, my group was banished, and she, to the bed of a neighbouring prince.” The vampire sighs as the story takes a darker turn. “I promised I would return to her when I could offer her a better home, but my cast and I, we ran afoul of a beast one night. When another caught the scent of our tragedy and found only me hanging by a thread, he took pity and made me one of them. I was so fearful to return to her at first, it took me several years to work up the courage and restraint before I could send her a letter begging to call on her again.”

Now engrossed in the tale and the comparison of his story to yours. You stop an attempt to fight his will, too curious of the outcome.

“She agreed to meet, stealing away from the castle at night to find me at a nearby inn. It was my intent to flee with her that evening, to give her not only all the lives she had desired, but an endless supply of existence. What I did not expect was for her to deny my proposal. In the time I had gone she bore the prince a child, and no longer desired to part with her new role. I was not willing to accept her answer... lost in the heat of my anger and hunger for her, I took the princess with me. Draining her of life, I added her blood to mine.”

You stiffen in your seat wondering if this too will be your end, recalling a cautionary tale your mother used to tell you. The story of a noble lady, who was bled dry by the parasitic and sinful world outside. You thought back then it was her way to scare you into not leaving the protection of the castle walls, never did you consider it to be real, nor that she would be the one to give you to the monster of the fable.

“The smell and taste, I have not had anything quite like her since... until this night, when I caught wind of your own scent upon your maid's dress. I was already on my way to see you, but she made it so much easier, for she spoke on my behalf to gain my entrance. Such a sweet girl, and so very much in love with your brother isn’t she? A shame that she will likely feel the same pain as I once did, a love that crosses classes only to end in death.”

Seething with rage at his confession, you wish to fight back and escape from his carriage but your own body will still not comply. You knew it, you knew he never intended to save your brother, he only wanted a bargain that would play in his favour. There is still a catch that remains unseen by you and your family, one that will result in the prince’s demise.

“They’ve hitched their kingdom to a dying horse, keeping it alive by selling off their only hope.” His finger follows the path of a tear down your jaw and falling to your collar. “I can promise you I will have far more roles and lives for you to play, more than you ever would have had with them. And you, you who have so much to give in return.” He opens his mouth, his breathing heavy as he leans towards your throat. “It's been so long since I’ve had someone of your calibre... I plan to savour you for far longer than the last.” Pushing you down, until you lie on the seat of the carriage, his teeth latch on, piercing the skin of your neck.

...

You drop your mother’s arms, leaning back upon remembering the part she had to play in giving you away. “You forced me into his custody? You are the reason I was made to endure his torture.”

“We had no choice. Your brother, he was dying.”

“And where is he now?” You shout back at them, all decorum vanished from the room. “You were given the cure, so why is my brother still dead?”

With that Taehyung smiles bringing light to the answer. “It would seem the temptation was too great for their own vanity. Even your lovely parting gift to her, erased by my remedy.”

The marks that should be on your mother's arms from your own assault, the ageing that should have become apparent since your last moment with them, none of it is there. All wiped away by the blood that would have given your brother a longer span of life. “You-you used it didn’t you... I should have known. It’s always been about appearances with you. Playing the strong hand to keep both me and your people in line. And when you ran out... you asked for more didn’t you?”

“He said he would keep our prince alive!” Your mother replies shaking from the accusation, but not denying it.

“I told you that what I gave you would be enough. It is not my fault that you chose to waste it.” Taehyung counters with a wicked grin, pleased by their faults and presumptions. “They let your brother die, not I.”

“Then why return now? Why come if you already received what you wanted out of the deal?” You question fearing his answer, for what more could he want.

“I promised I would one day make them see the value in you.” Taehyung explains. “And there is always another bargain to be made.”

“With your brother dead and you gone we needed an heir.” Your father sets out his quill and ink on the table along with a rolled document he’s been clinging to. “It is as we feared what might happen. Our rivals at court have been stoking the fires of our people, without any official descendant they grow discontent and worried about the security of the country's future, we need you back.”

“Though you still belong to me as per the first agreement,” Taehyung interjects. “So you will return, the law will be changed, and you will become the next in line instead of any child you might have produced. With me by your side, living as husband and wife, the future rulers of this kingdom.

“I won’t allow this.” You shake your head aghast by the thought of such a deal. “First you give him me, and now your people?”

“Those people are currently rallied against us, they would see the end of us if they could. You witnessed the proof.” The king gestures to the floor where the captured were held just a moment ago. “We need assistance in controlling them.”

“Because you’ve given them nothing to stand behind! Instead your first instinct is to feed them to a beast. Why do you still trust this monster? He will double cross you, my brother, your son is already dead, don’t let him take any more!”

There’s a knock on the door with the return of Taehyung’s vampire kin having stowed away the prisoners. He bids them to enter, while your father looks on somewhat ruffled by the impermanence of the lord’s comfort in his own home. “My part of the deal has already been given, they cannot back out now. Unless they would like those rebels to return to their people?”

The king shakes his head. Dipping the feathered pen he signs the parchment, and hands it off to the vampire lord.

“Thank you for your cooperation my liege...” Taehyung bows his head as he takes the paper, passing it off to one of his clan, before returning his unwanted attention to you again. “Your parents will live out the remainder of their lives as king and queen. As long as I can assure that their people will not revolt while they live. The throne will pass to us, and your people to mine.” He tilts up your chin, his thumb crossing over the small scratch on your forehead from your travels. Dipping his finger in your goblet of wine he touches the cut again. The familiar itch of healing skin crosses the surface of your brow. Your stomach turns with the knowledge of what you unintentionally consumed. “It’s a shame for them though...They won’t live long enough to see the benefits of my work here.” With the brush of his hand he gives the order to his clan, “Kill them.”

Your parents both stand in alarm, attempting to reason with the monster before you. “No, you swore-”

“That I would keep you safe from your people, not that you are protected from myself or my kind.” He addresses his fellow vampires once again, “If you insist on feeding on them do not do it here. I find their smell distasteful and I would rather not lose my appetite.”

His progenies take hold of your parents, dragging them away. They scream for their guards, but when no one comes to their rescue they call for you next. Pleading with you so that you might speak up on their behalf, with all dignity lost while they come to face their own mortality. You remain silent, any words frozen inside out of fear and hate. Your last duty to them would be what they always asked of you, to be quiet and still, until their screaming comes to an abrupt halt as they meet their end.

Now alone Taehyung rises from his chair and lifts you up onto the dining table, locking you in with his arms on either side. “I told you I could give you so much more than them, didn’t I promise you that? Do you remember?”

“I never said I wanted it from you.” Your furry has reached a new level, overwhelmed with contempt towards Taehyung, your parents, and yourself for not remembering sooner. “You believe their deaths will give you the kingdom? You forget that you had them sign it off to me. I will never consent to marrying you, and we both know your blood will not force me into such a binding contract. It's why you had to make deals with my parents is it not? Compulsion will not work when it comes to such bonds in ink, and you have nothing left to play in order to sway me.”

“Such a smart girl,” Taehyung coos, while brushing the side of your face. “However, it is not I who has forgotten but you, for I have already won that battle too. Here...” He takes a swig of the wine, and firmly grasps the back of your neck. Pushing more of the drink between your lips with his, Taehyung forces you to choke it back and drown in your own past. “Let me help you remember, my princess... my bride...”

...

- 4 years ago -

You open your eyes, to be greeted by unfamiliar surroundings. A soft bed beneath you, lying between warmed sheets with a handsome yet concerned looking man sitting at your side.

“Thank heavens you’re awake. You took quite a fall.”

You lift a hand to your head trying to dull a sharp ache in your temple. The man leans in closer without hesitation, an action which surely indicates a close tie with you, but you have no memory of him. His hands are cool yet you welcome them on the side of your face, for they diminish the pain. “I don’t remember-”

“It’s okay my princess. I'm glad you are saved from the trauma of reliving that event.” He comforts you with a boxy smile, that doesn’t quite reach the sadness of his eyes.

“No, not just that, I mean I don’t remember... I don’t remember you, where I am, nor why I am here.” You strain to recall your most recent past, everything seems so long ago. There are glimpses and fragments of moments and people which you manage to pull forth, your parents and their rule, your brother and his suffering, your castle and it’s cold walls that once surrounded you. The loneliness of your past brings a tear to your eye for it is all you can recall. Everything about this man before you seems to have vanished from your mind.

“No, no, no, don’t cry.” His expression falls, as his hand shifts to wipe beneath your eyes, he swallows his shaking breath in clear distress over your loss. “I promised that I would look after you, that I would treat you well. Your parents, what will I tell them? They will rightfully blame me for letting you get hurt like this.”

The fear and sadness strewn across his handsome face is more than you can bear. You reach out a hand to his to comfort him back. “Could you remind me of your name sir?”

“Taehyung, and please don’t be so formal. There’s no need with me.”

“Then our relationship to each other...”

He takes your hand, tracing your fingers with his, before planting a kiss on your fourth digit. “We have been promised to one another. Your parents agreed to let you leave your own kingdom to be with me.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry... I don’t remember, I don’t remember anything. I can’t-”

“It’s okay my princess. It’s not your fault, but mine. You were hurt under my care. I’ll help you to rebuild what we have. We’ll start from the beginning, if we have to. I just can’t endure the thought of losing you entirely. Please just tell me what you need, whatever I can do, it will be done. I will help you to fall for me over and over, if it means I can continue to be with you.”

...

Taehyung spends the nights alongside you tending to your every desire, reciting poetry and plays to keep you entertained while you remain on bed rest for your injury. You feel bound by his kindness, and so guilty for not being able to recall your own past together.

During the day he is forced away from your side. He has a demanding role filled with travel and responsibilities, your only hope is that when he deems you well enough, you will spend that time together too. That you will be able fulfill this building desire within, to go out and journey for his role together.

But the weeks pass with no change in your situation.

Until one night when it all becomes too much to conceal. When left by his caretakers to bathe, you dissolve into sorrow over the fact that your loss of memory is holding you back. Your wedding to him was to be days from now, but he has called it off until you can recover what you lost. Your wracking sobs echo through the empty room as you commiserate alone. Questioning what you could possibly do to dispel this suffering.

You did not expect the sound to summon Taehyung, who comes bursting in without thought to your current state of dress. “Princess I-I...” He stops in his tracks and turns on his heel, shielding his eyes from your nude form. “Forgive me, I was not made aware that you were bathing.”

You press yourself to the side of the tub. Shy at first but when you find him more so, you beckon him over, just as he is about to reach for the door. “No wait, don’t leave. If you go I fear I will only feel more guilt over our situation.”

“Guilt? To what shame are you referring? Have I not made you comfortable here? Do you not have everything you need?” Taehyung abides by your call, joining you beside the tub, and swallowing as he glimpses you in the water.

“I do, and that is the issue. I remember nothing other than your care and kindness. You have given me everything you can, and I have nothing to grant you in return.”

“That’s not true-”

You press a damp finger to his lips, urging him to let you finish. “Despite not having a memory of our past, there is this need inside me... it’s difficult to express, but it calls out for someone like you. I do not wish to continue this cautionary stance, waiting and hoping for something that might not return. I do not want to hold us back. I think we should still marry, for I cannot see my life in any other way.”

Taehyung gives you a small smile along with a kiss to your hand which still lingers near his mouth. While his own reaches into the tub, his fingers twirling in the water just above your leg. “There is still much you don’t know about me.”

“Then I will learn it as it comes. Please, I long to move past this. I cannot and will not remain in this present, with you restraining yourself because of me. I truly believe that moving forward with the original plan is the best course of action.”

“If that is what you desire,” He the tips of his fingers submerge further until they draw against your thigh. “I will resume the plans between you and I.”

...

The ceremony is modest, with only you and Taehyung reciting your vows under the night sky. After signing a document to confirm your ties, he whisks you off to the bedroom to consummate the new promise between you.

The strength of the man before you comes as quite a shock as he rips the laces of your gown in his eager hunt to find the flesh beneath, until your best dress soon lays in tatters on the floor. His hunger for you appears to reach a new level, with his mouth nipping and devouring every inch he has exposed. Your situation has held you both back for so long, but at least now you will both get to revel in the path forward together.

Once bare he flips you on to your stomach and disrobes himself. His taut legs come to straddle your hips, while his hands run up your back and down your arms. Taking your wrists he pins them over top of your head. “Just a precaution my princess,” He chuckles your ear as his leather belt wraps around. Tightening them together before the strap loops the headboard and is once again threaded through the buckle, wittingly securing you to the bed. “For if I am worried over the possibility of you fleeing, I might lose myself, and consume too much of you.”

“I have no plans to run.” You muse, giggling at his passion.“But I will concede to your bondage if it satisfies you.”

“I was hoping you would agree.” He teases his index along your slit, drenching your sensitive skin, and preparing you for his swollen cock. You raise your hips eagerly towards him and he takes the hint. Laying down over top of you he guides himself in with one hand while the other loops your waist.

You gasp from the stretch before gritting your teeth trying to hide the brief moment of pain. Taehyung swears as his forehead comes to rest on your shoulder, his breath shaking as much as yours while he inhales deeply. A growl echoes in his throat which he promptly clears. “Princess, am I... am I your first?” There’s a hint of surprise in his voice, but you can not understand why that would be so.

“If I was promised to you... I can not see why I would have laid with another.” You answer somewhat hurt by the notion that he thinks you would have been unfaithful in the past. Your memories might be limited, but you can not believe that would be the kind of person you are, to be unfaithful to one so kind would make you a monster.

“Yes, of course.” He sighs, “I just, I had not...” He empties his throat again. Hugging you tightly as he pushes his cock in further. “My dear princess, so good to trust me with such a gift.”

You exhale with a confirmation. “I am all yours.”

With Taehyung resting deep inside he pauses for another moment. His fingers trapped between you and the bed shift down to your mound where they press and cause you to buck back onto him. “Forget the pain for now...” He whispers in your ear while the deep circles he rubs shift you from discomfort to pleasure. Your twitching responses beguile him as you clench down on his shaft. The growl in his voice returns and grows deeper, he thrusts along with you. A need inside your start to build, your breathing stutters while he continues on. “...And come for me.” Your nerves reach their peak at his words, holding you in place until the tension inside you finally releases and the warm waves run from head to toe.

As you ride out your climax Taehyung pushes forward with his own. His cock continues to swell, demanding more of you, until he comes to his end and collapses twitching with content. With a groan he wraps his arms around you and nuzzles your back, while you remain trapped beneath him.

You tug on his belt wanting to touch him and hold him as he does to you. But even once he has come himself, he does not appear to be fully parted from his lustful needs. He shifts down so that his face can be found between your thighs. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you inquire for him. “Taehyung, please-”

“Don’t fret my princess, I just- I just want to- there was some blood drawn in my haste to have you, I would like to kiss it better.” He chuckles before his tongue comes to find your folds. The beastly sounds from him become far greater than before as he laps at the spot. Your hesitation is cast aside as you soon delve into pleasure once again.

His fingers clamp down on your legs as he feeds from your cunt with an even stronger resolve. “I must- I must have more.” He begs of you.

“I am yours to take.” You respond, eager to indulge more from his affectionate appetite.

But as soon as your permission is granted an unimaginable pain pierces the skin and muscle of your thigh. His mouth latches onto the source of such misery, and draws on the wound taking deep drafts. “Taehyung?” You cry out in confusion, pulling the bonds he left you in.

Your lord and husband suspends the act. Rising up to release you from the headboard, he takes your restraints in his hand. Flipping you back over and pinning you back down beneath him. You find your groom smiling while his mouth drips with blood. He chuckles lightly at your horror, taking in your fear. “Did you have a change of heart my princess? I’m sorry to have brought such a swift end to our happy scene, but tomorrow we may start over... once I’ve had my fill.”

...

After the first Taehyung proceeds to push upon you several moments wrought in passion and pain. The concealment of his identity to become your love, and of course the times when he chose purely to torture you as your captor.

You come to understand that your past with Taehyung is a series of tales, with him portraying the villain, or the hero. Going from captor, to suitor, to husband, only to break you by becoming your captor once again. He’s crippled you countless times, in so many different ways, choosing whichever act suits him in the moment, gorging himself off your emotional defeat the same way he feeds your blood, in the most painful way possible.

“A small sample of our time together, but you see princess, you are already bound to me in matrimony. I have what I need for my clan. My followers will have access to any house, any dwelling on our kingdom’s land once I give them my consent to enter.”

“Y-you have no right to do that!” You stutter, trying to push down the past to focus on the present.

“Oh but I do as your husband, as the new king I now have partial claim. My men will be able to feed within the safety of your peoples homes. Hunting them in their beds will be far easier than being restricted to the streets.”

“They are not cattle for you to feed upon!”

“How is that any different than your family's rule?” Taehyung scoffs, looking to the ornate room around you both. “Your parents in their vanity and greed bleed them dry, to the point where they were begging for a change, even if it was the rule of a young man who had barely stepped into adulthood. They will be grateful for the passing of the king and queen, and for the new rule. Remembering the vampires who will now stalk them while they sleep only as a passing nightmare.”

“That does not make what you are doing any better.” You argue, though you know it to be pointless.

“Not in your eyes, but my people will at least benefit from the sacrifice of your own. They trust me to do right by them. Can yours say the same about you? Will you bear the pain of your suffering and theirs? All that’s left is for us to choose which story we should play next. Would you like to forget it all again? To have me return to the role of doting lover and husband? Or would you prefer to recall that which has brought you pain? Your parents, your brother, and myself, knowing that soon my people will feast on yours.”

To remember would be the only chance you have in finding a weakness to him, any attempt to remove him from his position will require your knowledge of what happened in the past and what is happening in the present. Who knows what story he would otherwise weave next, but he will no doubt pull the wool over your eyes if you let him.

“I will give you until the end of this night to choose, if you don’t I will do so for you. But I am so very ready to return to our routine. These past few weeks have been a torment without you to entertain and fulfil me.” His finger traces an x on your neck, marking the spot he intends to bite. “I will never again allow us to be parted for so long.” The point of his teeth make contact with your skin, when the door opens and one of his keepers calls for him. “What?!” Taehyung shouts back in frustration. “What could possibly be so important that you must interrupt my dinner?”

“There is a hunter demanding entrance at the gate.” The vampire informs, looking rather shaken for having displeased his lord. “Says he won’t leave until he sees proof that you received your princess. It seems that he was trying to deliver her when she ran off in the daylight earlier today.”

“So someone did find you... that would explain...” His hands soften on your neck running his fingers over the previously tortured flesh. He then turns to the vampire waiting for his answer. “What is the hunter’s name?”

“Agust, my lord.”

Your head snaps up with your eyes wide. Yoongi is here, and he knew to call himself Agust? That can only mean, the secrets kept from him by his clan, the truth that would break you, it was the knowledge of Taehyung’s presence here.

“Is this the case my princess? Did this Agust find you and intend to bring you here?” You bite your tongue but he pushes his power over you again. “Tell me the truth of this matter.”

“He did.” You can’t be sure of what Yoongi intends to do once inside, but at least your forced honesty did not betray his cover.

“He has my permission to enter. Bring him to me now, I owe him my gratitude for taking such good care of my princess.” The vampire guard leaves to grant the other access.

Taehyung traces his teeth with his tongue. Appearing unusually happy despite the fact that his meal was disturbed. “You will remain seated and quiet, while I reward this hunter for his deeds, is that understood princess?” You reluctantly nod, submitting to his compulsion.

Yoongi, accompanied by four of Taehyung's kin, enters the dinning hall and promptly bows. “My lord.”

“Agust... I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of speaking before have we?”

“No my lord, I’ve dealt only with your keepers. But it was my honour to retrieve your princess as requested.” You meet his eye when they flicker in your direction trying to decipher his plan, but are unable to see a way out that could have possessed him to take such a risk.

“Yes, I must thank you for bringing her most of the way. I am surprised that you knew to find me here though, I thought that was kept confidential from the hunters.”

“It was my lord but I learned of your occupation here only recently, such a large group of vampires in a human city does not go unnoticed for long.”

“Then I commend you, for doing what many of my other hunters could not.” Taehyung smirks at his own kin’s expense. “Tell me who was your maker, from which line do you descend?

“Your caretaker Egan, my lord.” Yoongi offers, his tone flat and even. “Though I don’t know if he would recall me, I am one of many.”

“Egan you say?” Taehyung pauses, with a raised brow and pout, which soon fades into a smile after a moment's hesitation. “He has created a fair few hasn’t he?” He chuckles. “Now you were not able to finish my task to completion, but I will still grant you the reward of becoming a keeper if you can complete just one other challenge.”

“Of course my lord.” Yoongi promises, watching adamantly with his hand twitching at his side.

“There is someone I need you to find, one who has been haunting me for quite some time. Before my princess met me she fell in love with another of our kind. A vampire who works for Lord Hoseok, and goes by the name Min Yoongi. It took me a year to find the full extent of the boundaries in her memory that relate to him, I needed to empty her of love for that fool, and take it for myself. I was successful in the end of course.” He tips your chin with his finger delighting in the pained expression you bear at the thought. “But I would like to see the end of him, and purge anything that might hope to take her from me.”

“I understand...” Yoongi responds through a clenched jaw. Peeking a concerned glance at you when Taehyung's back turns to him.

“I think she might be able to help you start your quest. You know where to find this Yoongi, do you not my princess?”

You dip your head, as a tear slips from your cheek and falls to your lap. You bite your tongue in an attempt to hold back your answer but Taehyung presses again with the compulsion of his blood. “You will answer me, out loud.”

“Yes,” you confirm, your eyes meeting with Yoongi’s again, pleading for him to go now, and escape before you reveal anything else.

“Do you think it will be an easy task for this vampire Agust to find him?”

“I do.” You utter with a reply stolen from your lips.

Taehyung mutters in your ear for his final question. “Is he the one who stands before us now my princess?” Panic instantly seizes you, with every function of your body coming to a halt, wondering how he could have found out. The moment your mouth starts to open, Yoongi launches himself at Taehyung, but his attack is quickly brought to a halt by the vampire lord who draws his own stake. Shoving Yoongi across the room and into the arms of his guard.

“You thought you could fool me after so many of your brethren tried and failed?” The cruel lord chides with a low chuckle. “There have been too many errors on your part, the greatest of which was the name of your false creator.” He approaches his new prisoner dragging the point of the stake along Yoongi’s chest while he is held in place. “A misstep of Egan’s allowed for her to escape, and so I sent the order for him to be disposed of. I knew the deed was done mere hours ago when I watched a progeny of his wither away before my eyes. If you were of his blood you too would have perished.” Taehyung explains before he paces away twirling the stake between his fingers. “What a wicked curse we must endure is it not? Though it does have its advantages... I wonder how many will I wipe out with your death?” Your heart beats wildly in your chest longing to run forward and prevent such an event. “It will come soon, of that there is no question, but not before I take every ounce of information you hold about Hoseok’s current plans.”

“You will get nothing from me unless you let her go,” Yoongi growls.

“Let go of my own bride?” The restrained vampire flinches at the comment as Taehyung grins and prods further. “I suppose you didn’t know. You must forgive her for not informing you, she couldn’t recall it herself until a few minutes ago. Regardless, I have no plans to free her, for I believe the closer I am to your beloved the more I will get from you.” Taehyung joins you at your side again. “What do you think princess? Would you like an admirer for our performance? I’m sure even the steadfast Min Yoongi would bend to my will if he witnesses you in my favourite roles.”

Taehyung’s attention is drawn away from the pair of you when more of his keepers enter the room greeting him with a nod. “Alas the show will have to wait. I have permissions to grant, and a story to feed your staff,” The vampire lord sighs and acquiesces to their needs, grabbing the decanter from which you took a glass. “The rest of your people will come after.”

Taehyung gestures to one of his men. “He will take you to your room, and you will remain there until I return. I look forward to having a more fulfilling reunion between you and I come dawn.” His fingers brush against your cheek one last time before addressing the vampires holding Yoongi. “Keep him locked up along with the revolutionaries for now. I will call upon him later.”

Yoongi continues to lash out as you are both dragged in opposite directions. Barring his fangs at those who hold him, but he is soon subdued with the addition of another clan member and carried out of sight.

Your own escort doesn’t say a word as he takes you through the empty halls, and staircases with one hand grappling your upper arm. Any attempt to pull it from him is met with a snarl and tighter hold. As you pass the rooms of the hall you wonder where Taehyung has the remaining staff kept and despite the lies forced down their throat you hope they will remain untouched.

The guard opens a door and pushes you in, sending you to the ground before locking it behind. The dimly lit room is unfortunately not your own, consisting only of a bed, washstand, and shuttered windows. Rising from the timber floor you find a stain on your hands and dress originating from the spot on which you landed, a spill, red enough to be the remnants of a vampire's meal. You start heaving at the thought, running to the filled basin desperate to remove the sticky scarlet substance. With hands shaking as they are submerged in water, your entirety follows suit, quaking in fear of what has just transpired and what is left to come.

Your parents are lost, they dug their own grave, but your fellow citizens, and Yoongi... you have to find him, before he too is lost and your people are reduced to a mere spattering on the floor.

You pull on the shutters of the window, releasing them to peer out and see if there is any hope to scale out of this one too. The height from the ground might be manageable, but a pair of glowing eyes looking up to you from the garden stops your attempt. The gaze from below continues to watch until you retract and close the space between you again. Taehyung's caretakers and keepers are as eager to keep and feed on you as he is. Visions of past attacks start to flood your mind, making you regret your venture to look out. You tried to escape so many times in your past captivity. Each one with the exception of the last was foiled by his keepers or caretakers, some brought you straight back to your room, while others... others were swiftly intercepted by the lord of the fortress, but only after they landed their first bite.

Retreating to the corner of the room, you set yourself down at the furthest point from the door and window. Left alone to stare at the crimson puddle, as you wait for Taehyung’s return. There is no question that you have to bear the weight of your memories as painful as they are, you can not afford to forget the past. Not now, not with Yoongi nor your people in jeopardy. You wonder if Taehyung will strike such a deal with you. If you promise to abide by his command without his blood, will that be enough to buy at the very least Yoongi’s safety?

The minutes pass while you consider your options, distracted only when there comes a thump from the shutters. You rise from your spot and move closer to the door. The boards made to conceal the daylight shatter inward with another hit, knocking over the solitary candle and casting you into darkness. The shadowy intruder leaps in, their gleaming eyes holding you in their sights.

Figuring it to be one of the Taehyung’s progeny’s come for a taste, you draw breath to scream. Until the vampire collides with you, holding you down, and covering your mouth.

“I told you to stay in the room.” The hushed tones of Yoongi greet you to your immense relief. “Why didn’t you listen to me? Why did you run?” He waits there for a moment, removing his hand only when you finally relax beneath him.

“Yoongi...” You gasp in relief. “I overheard you and Seokjin. When I saw you give into the demands... I-I didn’t know, I didn’t realize-”

There’s a knock interrupting your explanation, the vampiric guard no doubt alarmed by the commotion. You both fall silent, but that does not seem to satisfy the sentry, who proceeds to unlock the door. Yoongi jumps up ready to meet him with a stake. As the barrier opens, the vampire tries to step inside, making it only far enough in for the wooden weapon to reach his heart. Yoongi grabs the enemies throat in the last moments, committing him to silence until death before tossing the corpse to the side. Treating the newly dead as nothing more than a bothersome distraction.

Yoongi turns back to you but keeps his distance, a growl rattling in his throat as he takes deep breaths. “I told you before, I would never take you there. I had no wish to abide by the request from my lord. I could not tell Seokjin of my plans to disobey while we remained in his house. I was going to take you as far away as I could after learning the whole truth behind your capture, but your stunt put everything in jeopardy, including yourself.”

You start to sob upon hearing his deception, you should have guessed that with such a reveal from his own clan he would try to deceive them too, like the others he dealt with on your behalf. He closes the gap between you, pulling you in close, allowing your tears to fall on his chest. “How-how did you escape just now? I thought for certain he had us both in his grasp.”

“I kept hold of the tainted blood, and those holding me were in desperate need of a drink. One sip and they were at my mercy instead.” He lips grace the top of your head with a kiss as you cling to him. “We’re going to get you out of here okay? We’ll go down to the passage. I have already released those he captured, if he has a mob on his hands, we might slip out undetected.”

“I can’t leave, not yet-”

“Why, because he compelled you to stay?” Yoongi questions, attempting to dismiss your concern. “I will carry you out if your own volition fails to do so.”

“It is not that alone... he was not lying when he told you I was his-his-” You stall on the word unable to say it yourself. “In those five years, he played with my mind, he made me forget you and desire him instead, a-and I fell for it. It is because of me he now has a claim to every home in the town. This is my error to fix. I will not leave those who dwell here to feed his own.”

“You are not to blame for his actions.” He counters, his own voice cracking in desperation. “Your remaining here will not change that.”

“I only wish to remain so I can bring an end to him, to kill him.” You promise. “Either way, whether successful or not I will not exist here long.

“No, I am not letting you near him again. If we must do this then let him be mine to kill.”

“He thinks me in here unarmed and broken to his will,” You open Yoongi’s jacket to find another stake that he must have stolen from Taehyung’s followers. “I will have a better chance. It would be better for you to ensure that his clan has not brought harm to anyone else.”

“And leave you here to face him? If he falls so do his own progenies, which includes most if not all of his keepers. There will be no point in my leaving to dispose of them, if your main goal is to defeat him.”

“If he sees you he will be instantly aware. When he is as strong as you say then even you won’t be able to defeat him without catching him off guard.”

“I am not leaving you alone with him even if you are armed, and that is final.” Yoongi takes his firm stance, while grabbing at the stake in your hand. “I will not lose you again...”

You look down at the deceased on your floor, fearing the same fate for Yoongi should he remain here with you. Taehyung has proven time and time again that none can fool him for long, not Yoongi, not his clan members, even those who disobeyed him attempting to draw blood from you were cast aside... with Taehyung throwing himself between you and them. “If you will not leave then... I need you to bite me.”

Yoongi follows your gaze in confusion, “What is it you are plotting your highness?”

“He will no doubt come running if he smells my spilt blood. He has before. If he thinks I am in danger from his own, I will be able to get close with his guard down.” You take the stake back from him while he considers your plan, gripping it in your fist behind your back. “All you have to do is play the threat.”

“Will you not wait for another alternative? My clan could be here in a day to deal with them.”

“He is hungry, and all too confident of victory.” You plead with your vampire. “If we wait-”

“If we wait he will be more likely to catch on...” Yoongi growls confirming your thoughts, as he begrudgingly bends down to take the cloak of the defeated guard. Tying it around he pulls the hood over his head. “This is unbelievably reckless you know. I should just take you from here this instant.”

“But you won’t.” You reply with a sad smile reaching up to touch his cheek with your hand, and press a kiss to his lips. “You long for an end to this as much as I.”

With his back to the door he takes you into his arms. When hunched over you Taehyung should not know who he is until it is too late. Yoongi places his mouth ready to sink into your neck. “Are you sure you want to be the one to-”

“I have to.” You cut him off before he can even try to change your mind again.

With a deep sigh his teeth pierce your skin, the blood starts to flood from the wound and Yoongi lets out a low pained groan as he resists the urge to feed. For the more blood that escapes and is left to the air, the sooner that Taehyung will come running to investigate your situation. After a minute passes, you start to feel light headed and grip your weapon tighter.

“If he doesn't come soon I will have to put a stop to this.”

“He will come,” you gasp. “Just wait.”

Right on cue there comes a shout from down the hall along with the thunder of footsteps. Your door crashes open to reveal the ferocious monster.

Yoongi is thrown to the wall, and promptly disregarded in the moment by Taehyung, whose immediate attention is more occupied with you spilling out before him. “She is mine,” he seethes looking ravenous after not feeding on you for weeks. His hunger distracting him from the arm you have tucked behind your back. While pulling you closer to take a taste himself, you draw your own weapon, stabbing him through his heart with the stake.

He looks down to injury with a sobering disbelief, his words heavy on his lips with a low chuckle as he forces out his final thoughts before his demise. “Well played princess... you had me thinking I was to be your hero again.”

“You were never my hero, only my assailant.” You shove the stake deeper into his chest. “And now my fatality.”

Taehyung gasps and delivers one last cruel smile. “A fitting end, though I can think of one better. Why part here, when you can join me in death.” He launches at your throat ready to strike and bleed you further, when his actions are cut short by another.

With the stake pulled from the other vampire, Yoongi pierces him through the back, and takes hold from behind preventing Taehyung’s last threat. The vampire lord's eyes go wide showing a brief moment of fear before he finally succumbs to death. Pulling yourself from his clutches you take a deep breath and rejoice in the freedom, though the feeling doesn’t last long.

Already dizzy from the loss of blood you are in no way prepared for the surge of memories that flood back. With Taehyung dead his physical hold on you diminished, but the pain of his manipulation, the trauma and loss he has inflicted on you hits as a wave, and pulls you under.

Yoongi is there to heal the wound on your neck, he calls to you repeatedly though his voice along with your vision of him are clouded amongst your thoughts. Your heart pounds and head races as it continues to try and register the influx of everything you lost.

There’s a soft touch to your temple, as a whisper from him finally makes it through. “Be strong my love, you can conquer this too.”

You can feel yourself being lifted as the room moves around you. Clinging to his coat you utter your wish to leave, unwilling to spend another moment in this castle. Fully slipping as he draws you in closer.

...

When the haze lifts you come to find yourself in another bed. Not one of the castle’s no, it seems Yoongi had observed that request, but the location is still worrisome for it is the same room you had shared with him in Seokjin’s house. You immediately sit up, panicking over your last memory of this place, and fearful of Yoongi’s clan’s intent.

Your vampire sleeps on a chair beside you, though his head and chest are slumped over on the mattress and his hand encasing yours. Stirring the second your grip leaves his and you attempt to get from the bed. He grabs at your shoulder pushing you back down with ease, “What do you think you are doing? You are in no state to be running off.”

“Yoongi... why are we here? If Seokjin-”

“This was the only safe place I could think to bring you. You have nothing to fear here now. Seokjin will not do anything, he knows he was in the wrong to suggest such compulsion, and Namjoon has promised retribution on your behalf if he continues such behaviour.” Yoongi briefly smirks at the thought of the pair, though his expression soon darkens as his hand brushes your hair from your face as you relax back into the bed. “I thought- I was worried I lost you back there.”

“I-I couldn’t control it, there was so much that I had lost and most of it difficult to bear again...” You grimace at the pain of it, prompting Yoongi to lean in to kiss your blow and pull a small smile from you again. “I should never have returned. I should have trusted you more, I’m so sorry for putting you in danger like that.”

“It was not your fault. You had every reason to doubt me given your past and what you knew. I can’t imagine what it was like, but...” He looks down avoiding your eyes as he rubs your hands, the words that follow are just as tentative and soft. “If you should- I don’t know if- if you need me to help you discard any memories I will do so. Doesn’t have to be now or ever, but if you ever need me to... don’t feel like you have to carry the weight of it alone.”

You nod your eyes tearing up with gratitude for his offer. “Thank you, there will be some moments that I- that I will be glad to be rid of.” Yoongi’s warm smile comes with his arms to wrap around you in a tight hug. You wince as your muscles stain to return the affection, feeling as though they have seized from lack of use. “How long have I been under?”

“The longest two nights of my existence.”

“Two nights?” You exclaim pulling out of the embrace in shock. “What has happened since? Was anyone else hurt before I-I-”

“No one else, but the castle,” Yoongi sighs looking hesitant to tell you the rest. “The castle was set aflame in an act of defiance. It was sentenced to burn once the staff and resistance had cleared it of everything of value.”

“Good,” you whisper.

“There is more... Seokjin has been keeping a close eye on the situation.” Yoongi discloses. “But, when word spread that you returned only to vanish again, many believed your appearance to be that of an imposter rather than their former princess. They thought you a tool of the mysterious lord attempting to gain power.”

“And their plans to create a new form of rule?” You ask, the focus of your question leading Yoongi to tilt his head in confusion.

“Going forward without much backlash, but-”

“Then they have every right to think so. I am very different from their lost princess.” You smile to Yoongi’s surprise. “I am a threat to them now, a threat to the future governance they plan to install. Any version of me might sow the seeds of discord in progress if I was to return. If this story of me being a deceiver will help them to rebuild, then let them think it. I will make no plans to return.”

Yoongi nods in understanding, though his expression still holds regret. “I am sorry I was not able to deliver you home as promised.”

“That place was not my home for so long, not since you-”

A loud knock comes from the front door of the small home, reaching you all the way in your upstairs room. Yoongi stiffens in the seat next to you as muffled voices are soon heard too. Your vampire stands going to the door where Seokjin appears a moment later with news. “It’s Lord Hoseok. He’s here, and he wants to see you.”

“Don’t you dare let him in.” Yoongi pushes back. “Not with her here, not now.”

“I can’t exactly deny him entrance,” Seokjin scoffs. “This is his house-”

“Fine, then I will.”

Seokjin puts a hand on Yoongi’s chest and prevents him from storming off into a confrontation. “You know you can’t stop him. If he wishes to see her he will, but right now I think his main concern is you. Do not anger him if there is no reason to. See what he wants then come to a judgement.”

The same loud knock you heard below then arrives at your bedroom door, breaking off the disagreement between the two vampires.The guest you know not to require permission, but it seems that he would rather enter on your terms rather than his own.

“Yoongi?” You call to him, witnessing the dread in his face when he turns to look at you. “I should like to speak to him too.”

Yoongi’s reluctant hand turns the lever, letting his lord inside. Your own vampire stands between the two of you preventing you from getting a good look as the first words are exchanged.

“My Lord.”

“Tell me it is so, that it is true. Is Taehyung- ” The vampire lord immediately launches into the heart of the matter. The weight of his tone sends shivers to even you.

“Dead, my lord.”

“Thank you Yoongi, I am in your debt.” The tension in his voice quickly falls away.

“It was not I alone who defeated him sir. The credit also goes to the woman who you thought you would contain to your fortress.” Yoongi mutters with malice.

“I app-” His lord steps further in, allowing him to finally catch a glimpse of you. He pauses for a moment as he takes you in, his mouth hangs open and a single word falls in greeting, “Mansin?”

Though the word is foreign to you Yoongi reacts in an instant, returning to your side, he growls and his superior in defiance while positioned in your defence. “She is not-”

Lord Hoseok seems to catch himself and apologises. “A mistake Yoongi, an honest mistake, I see that she is bound to you. You must forgive me,” He whispers while giving a sad smile in penance. “Something in your expression reminded me of someone I once knew.” He politely touches upon his error, but leaves you with no reason for Yoongi’s reception. “I must give my thanks to you as well then, for you saved me the pain of having to kill my own creation.”

Alarmed by the confession you try to stand but Yoongi’s hand once again comes down to your shoulder. “Then Taehyung was yours? You created that monster?!”

“It was not my intention to have him turn out in such a way.” The vampire lord growls at the censure, causing Yoongi to grow ridged next to you. “I found him as an innocent young man dying, whispering the name of the one he loved, the one he was bound to. I took pity on him, would you not have done the same?” Hoseok raises an eyebrow as he throws his choice back at you.

You swallow and nod in response. “I suppose I would have.” The swift changes in mood of the vampire lord keep you on guard, intimidating in one moment and considerate in the next. It’s easy to see why Yoongi might be wary of him around you.

“I chose to banish him from the clan when he killed his former mate, your ancestor, for I could no longer trust him. He sought revenge on both your family and mine, and it is my fault alone. I knew that Yoongi would prefer to keep you as far away as possible, but Taehyung would likely have tracked you down sooner or later. I wanted to make up for that by offering you a safe place at my fortress but I can see that it was misconstrued.”

“Thankfully your assistance with my residence is no longer required.” You convey, hoping that he has abandoned the notion, since the threat is no longer stalking you.

“Yes... thankfully.” Lord Hoseok reiterates with a weak grin.

“If you are in our debt as you say then I would like to make a request of you.” You ask much to Yoongi’s surprise, resulting in his head snapping in your direction.

“A request?” Hoseok blinks, a grin twitching in his lips. He grabs the chair from the desk, turning it to face you before taking his seat. “What have you to ask of me?”

“My old kingdom, I want to ensure the health of the people. I ask that if your clan goes there to feed they use the tactics that Yoongi has been operating under.” Yoongi finally exhales and relaxes, as you explain your wish, a small smile crosses his lips with what looks to be pride.

“I understand your position, and would agree immediately if there were to be no recourse, but to put such limitations on my clan without any amendments or accommodations to offer in return... many would turn rogue.” Hoseok shakes his head. “No, if I ordered that, we might find ourselves in another situation like before.”

You consider what you have left to give with nothing left from your family to offer, you have only what you may have acquired through matrimonial bonds. “Tell me when a vampire dies, what happens to the ownership of their residences.”

“It will go to whomever they deemed a second who was not created by their own lineage. Yoongi was once my own. I don’t know if Taehyung- ”

“But if they had taken a wife who survived them?” You ask.

“They would be yours...” Yoongi mutters beside you in understanding.

You nod grimacing at the prospect of owning his land. “I want no part of them. But if they will help you to convince your clan to adjust their feedings and continue to help those of my former kingdom they are yours.” You offer to Hoseok. “Every fortress, waypoint and house that belonged to him will all be transferred to your own clan. ”

“Then I accept your terms,” Hoseok nods in agreement. “But where will you go?”

You look to Yoongi to give the answer. Caught off guard he pauses before responding with the simple direction of, “East, we plan to head east.”

...

...Two months later...

Yoongi stops the horse and dismounts beside an overgrown field, looking at the land with a deep contented sigh. “This is it.” He lights a lantern for you before treading into the long grass, in search of the foundation of his old home.

He was right, there is little left, but regardless of that fact you help him by clearing the roughage from any remains you can find. Pausing only when he does, while uncovering what seems to be a rotting wooden board laying on the ground. Upon further inspection you find it to shield a substantial cavern below with steps leading into the darkness.

“If that’s the cellar... Then that must mean.” Yoongi mutters, before taking a few steps away, counting his paces as he goes. Hunching down over a higher patch of ground, he tears away the long weeds, until a stone hearth reveals itself. He takes the rotting wooden board, and breaks it apart into several pieces. Building them up before he sets them alight with the fire of the lantern.

He lowers himself to sit in front of the burning wood and beckons for your hand, kissing you knuckles, raw from the cold wind of your journey as you take a seat next to him. Despite the lack of walls and roof, you are overwhelmed by Yoongi’s peace as he looks into the fire, feeling that same comfort and warmth within yourself. “I never thought I’d see this place again, but now, it feels right to return. Perhaps-” He meets your eye before expressing the rest of his tentative question. “Perhaps we could stay here for a while?”

“I would like that.” You answer with a nod, prompting him to beam back at you.

While Yoongi moves to lay on the grass relaxing in the light of the flame you pull out the new map you’ve been working on since the start of your journey east. The other still remains, not entirely forgotten, but of little use in this region. The fresh start on parchment comes as a much needed reprieve, the chance to begin again.

“You are marking this place down for me?” Yoongi asks as you draw with your quill pen.

“For us,” you correct him.

Looking down at the new point on the map now labelled with your description, he smiles at the sight of the single word you had written. “Have I fulfilled my duty to you then? Should we part ways here?” He jests pushing to rise up until you tug him back down by his long coat.

“You have,” Shaking your head at his joke, you explain your true feelings behind the word. “But if you leave, this place ceases to be so. It only exists as such when I am with you.”

“Then I must stay by your side, or risk breaking another promise?” He continues to tease you, with a twitch to the corner of his lip.

You can’t help but laugh at his attempt to conceal his eagerness. “So it would seem. How long do you think you can keep your vow?”

“For eternity.” Yoongi whispers, leaning in to kiss you over the setting ink of, ‘Home.’

...

-The End-

...

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