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just-some-random-blogger · 1 month ago

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Tormented Spirit | 1

Part 2

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, eventual smut, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, mentions/depictions of death/suicidal ideation, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: i nearly decided on nuking this because it feels so fucking bad and aimless guess in the end I'M really the tormented spirit huh anyway if I'm glad i didnt and decided to wait it out. if you enjoy this please think of leaving a comment and/or reblog because i need the reassurance. | cross posted on ao3

Tagging: @arabellasleopardcoat

"Father," Alicent pleads, "she needs to see you."

Otto's jaw clenches as he lifts his gaze from his desk. He looks upon his youngest child's features. You were one in the same, his first daughter and last. He thanks the gods that she did not inherit the curse you bear.

Alicent picks at her fingers while awaiting a response. Though she draws blood, no sound leaves her lips. She did not know it, but her father catches this anxious tick. He mentally corrects himself: at least she did not inherit it at equal intensity.

"A man has no place in the dressing room of a bride-to-be," the Lord Hand dismisses.

Alicent knew about as much would be said, yet she still tries, "please. She is having a-"

"And when has my presence ever soothed her?" Otto interrupts, raising his voice to make his point clear.

It was enough. Alicent understood.

He turns back to his papers. He reads them but none of the words register. He says, "I am sure your brother is already there, coddling her as he does."

Alicent does not respond.

Otto lifts his gaze, "go," he speaks as though his daughter missed the obvious, "if she needs someone so badly, coddle her with Gwayne."

Alicent returns to your chambers. Her heart pinched in every which way at the sight of you. Here you stood, clothed in one the few precious dresses that belonged to your mother— a bride. Dark blue satin and gold jewelry embellished your form. Your brown hair was curled and plaited and pinned. Your face had a glow, only because it was stained with tears. It was terrible and magnificent all at once.

Rhaenyra goes to her best friend and the two girls clutched hands before walking towards you. Gwayne spots them and gives your hands a tight squeeze. Because of this, you turn from your older brother to your younger sister. Your eyes are pink with melancholy.

"Lord Hand," Alicent mutters, "is deep in his work."

On his daughter's wedding day, thinks Gwayne.

Rhaenyra clenches her jaw, loathing your father more than normal in this moment.

More than your own, you cannot stomach your sister's duress. You stroke her cheek, "I am well now. Worry no more."

Alicent catches Gwayne's expression and knows that is a lie. Still, she smiles and nods, "I am glad," she looks you once over, "you are an exquisite bride, sister."

Rhaenyra offers a smile, "I agree, dear aunt."

Your face twists at the young princess' words, though you knew she meant well. You will away the dreadful sensation in your stomach and manage a smile, "thank you... sweet niece."

You relish their company for as long as you can in this moment. You gather strength from Rhaenyra's smile, from Alicent's touch, and Gwayne's words. Then, all at once, you were alone, walking towards Daemon Targaryen.

In truth, he was not curious of you. He despised you, for after all, you were the spawn of that Cunttower. But, gods, what could possibly be the reason you were taking so long to walk down the aisle? It was not like this room was that big. And so, he turns over his shoulder to inspect you. His hand remains on Dark Sister and his weight still rested mostly on one leg.

He squints at the sight of you, moving like a snail. He is about to roll his eyes, but then he catches a glimpse of your countenance.

Tis strange.

You were not nearly as repulsive as he remembered you, and not nearly as similar in likeness to your rotten twin. How could that be, when it was not only- what, a season since he had pummeled Ser Cuntface to the ground? He will never forget your screaming face in the audience, and how deliciously distressed your father had been from hauling you away.

Even now, as Daemon's lilac eyes appraised your distant silhouette, gliding towards him like a phantom intent on haunting, he second guessed if that weeping woman from the tourney was you. But then he turned to your brother and saw his jaw harden. It was unmistakable then you were the weeping woman, and now, you were his weeping bride.

Gwayne, could not help the way his hands tightened into a fist as he helplessly watched you inch towards his most ardent foe. Beside him, unmoving, stood very man who allow such madness to ensue: your father.

You pass the pew that seated your family. Your twin's expression softens. He he nods, and you know he means take heart. Your sister does the same. But your father, who stood between his children, does not spare you a glance.

Daemon notices the coldness. He would feel bad, but then again, he has been proclaiming his ill-guided brother's Lord Hand was the biggest cunt in the realm for so long, so he doesn't. Oh, but then you look at him with those beady eyes, and he did not know why his thorax felt uneasy.

Twas strange indeed.

Soon you stood in front of your promised, and, finally, Otto lays his eyes upon you. He does not see you though. He does not see the woman dressed in the garments that once belonged to his wife. He does not see your trembling hand and glassy cheeks. He sees his timid, tremoring, little daughter that he had to leave a moon's length for work. He sees her frail body that shook on her tiny bed and found no comfort in the way he held her tiny hand when he returned.

As the septon begins this damning rite, all he could hear was the voice of the maester that promised the new medicine he procured would heal his girl. As tears rolled down your eyes, he remembers how he nearly killed the maester for feeding you herbs that caused you to retch the little food you had eaten.

Has my child not suffered enough?

ᴴⁱˢ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ ⁱˢ ᵐᵃʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵐᵒⁿˢᵗᵉʳ

Daemon turns to the pew beside the Hightowers' and finds his brother's face. Viserys seemed pleased to witness this wretched affair, as did Aemma, who clutched her pregnant belly. Rhaenyra beside her seemed more interested in you however, or at least the dress that she and Alicent helped dressed you in.

The septon blabbers and tells you both to speak your vows. You do, one as reluctant as the other. Then, as instructed, Daemon cloaks you and presses a kiss on your salty lips.

Twas bittersweet. On one hand, as he takes your clammy one, the image of Otto's face when Daemon told the King that he wanted to marry you comes to mind.

Oh, how excited he was to see the old fool look as though he was a breath away from lunging at him across the table, and how utterly horrendous that he hadn't. He would have simply, and justifiably, killed him. Then all this bother would not have ensued. The look upon the said man's face this moment, now that he's sullied what he so dearly protected, made his stomach giddy.

As the same time, as he held that same clammy hand of yours and felt it tremble, he remembers that you and he were bound. Though not in the manner of his house, he knew he could escape only so much of his wretched duties. Otto's vexation would only last so long, and deep down the cunt must enjoy that his daughter was now a princess. He knew soon Viserys would also begin nagging him again.

But then out of nowhere, he laughs. It was so abrupt that a few guests looked at him in confusion.

How could he forget? There was the matter of your... affliction. Perhaps he can frighten you to death on your wedding bed.

He chuckles once more.

The idea is so delicious, he is in good spirits the whole wedding feast. He does nothing but embarrass and shame you by entertaining literally every other lady save yourself.

What makes matters worse, at least on your end, is that your father refuses to go to your side and forbids not only your brother but as well as your sister from leaving their spots to come to your aid. There was no need to make the matter bigger than it was. You are left alone at your seat at the table, looking nothing but pathetic and weepy.

You sustain such temperament until you're in your marriage chambers, but then you do a funny thing and down two glasses of wine. Daemon laughs at how it spills from your lips, down your neck.

He, who had already much more than a measly two cups, comes behind you and takes the one you loudly prop on the table. You squeak and bolt away when Daemon's arm sneaks up from underneath your own; it only further amuses him.

"V'you a change of heart?" he pours himself a glass, "ready for debauchery, yes?"

You turn unbelievably pale, and it merits the fondest of laughs from your sadistic groom. Daemon drinks and licks the wine off his lips.

You gulp, reaching out a trembling hand.

He raises a brow at it. Suddenly, he's annoyed— twice was much because he has absolutely no idea what the gesture means.

That is, until you speak, "may I have some more?"

One of his faint silver brows raises. Suddenly, he is greedy with the wine he thought tasted too sour on his tongue. However, a curiosity within him urged to hand over the cheap drink, for why did his shivering wife have the nerve for this to be her first words to him?

He watched you throw your head back as you down the wine just as quick as you did the previous ones. He chuckles and crosses his arms. When you turn to Daemon, he tilts his head, "thirsty?"

You inhale deeply, though it is strangled, "for my anxiousness."

It takes a moment for him to realize what you mean, and when he does, his nostrils flare. Had he breathed fire, surely smoke would have come out his nose at this moment. Daemon releases an airy, unamused chuckle and averts his gaze, "eager to bed me, harlot?"

Your throat tightens, for that was not what you meant at all.

You forcibly swallow a lump that forms when he comes to your side. Your throat only further constricts when he grabs and yanks you into his chest. You whimper as he presses his nose against your ear. Goosebumps form when his hot breath hits your ear, "on the bed then."

Your heart thunders as he shoves you towards the bed. You nearly miss it. Actually, only your head and arms touch the cushion, and the rest of your body collides with the floor and the hard bed frame. Your tailbone throbs at the impact, but it doesn't hurt nearly as much as your chest that tightened, and tightened, and tightened and—

You barely manage to gasp. You are hard of breathing when Daemon crouches and grabs your thighs, pulling your skirts up. He feels your flesh tremble beneath his palm. His fingers touch your skin, and it brings him to hiss; you are ice against his burning hands.

He looks up at you. A line forms between his brows. You gasped for air that seemed unwilling to enter your lungs. Not only was your face stained with tears, but as well as your neck now

He mutters, "nyke pendagon jaelā naejot sagon ipradāri," I thought you wanted to get eaten, "I do so find fear delectable."

You continue to slump into the floor until you're a melted mess. You can do nothing but clutch your chest, not that it helps one bit.

Daemon is satisfied at this point. He stands and dusts his hands off. He looks at the pitiful Hightower, your dark locks spilled on the ground as if blood from a crime scene.

"Is that your affliction then, wife?" he tilts his head, "do you seize up when you're nervous?"

You look at him, but do not respond.

"S'rather inconvenient, no?" he sighs, as though he actually cared.

You shut your eyes and curl into a ball.

"Mmm, well, I suppose I will have to claim the womanhood owed of me some other time," he said, uninterested. With that, he exits the room with a skip in his step, pleased to know he had such a tremendous effect on you.

You remain in this turmoil for what felt like hours.

By the time you peel yourself up from the floor, your body is encased in sweat. You command yourself to calm; you cannot afford to slip into another bout of insanity. Your tears cannot be contained as you struggle to undo the ties of your dress; at least tremendous relief comes after you do. You struggle to your feet and remove the pins in your hair while making for the vanity table.

You sit before yourself; your horrid face reflects on the mirror that was far too clear for your liking. As you free your hair from its bounds, you think, perhaps it was fortunate that your husband did not lay with you. At least not tonight.

But then, comes to mind, the argument you with your father. Your chest threatens to tighten again as the severity of his voice replays in your head.

It was no secret, Otto despised Daemon. How then could he be so shocked at your horror of learning he had approved your marriage to him. His raging voice still rings in your head: "you ungrateful fool!"

You fall apart in your palms and nearly succumb to yourself again. Thankfully, you manage to take deep breaths and pick yourself up before you fall apart.

You always knew you were the spare in your father's eyes, but you thought that merited indifference. You did not think he hated you so deeply. How could anyone hand their child to their enemy? Perhaps this was his way of finally having use of you.

A spare. A pawn. Will it ever end?

You go to bed and wrap yourself tightly under the sheets. You stare at the ceiling, praying the same prayer you've prayed since you were eight: Seven, let this be my final slumber.

You nearly choke when you are awoken by such violent shaking. You jolt up, or at least as much as you can from the blankets you were so tightly bound in.

Daemon grins and brings the hands he had shaken you with behind his back, "I would say good morn, but it is apparently opposite to you, wife."

The name makes your skin crawl. You push yourself out of the sheets and sit up. You wipe your face and tell yourself; you must get used to this, "good morrow, husband."

Your brown curls spill down your shoulder as you sigh to yourself. Daemon thinks you look much more palatable this way, unlike yesterday, when your hair was jailed so tightly. He motions with his head, "ta. We make haste to the dragon pit."

Your eyes are suddenly devoid of any trace of sleepiness as you look at him.

His lips remain curled, "it would only be proper to do so, no?" He does not let you retort, as he is already making his way out, "tis Caraxes' right to know who his master has been shackled to," he opens the door, "at least momentarily."

If he was self-satisfied with how you shook under his grasp last night, one can only imagine his exhilaration over your severe disinterest in meeting his mount this morning. What's more, Caraxes could smell your anxiety, and it made him chuff and snap his jaws.

Of course, Daemon chastised his dragon, telling him to obey, even though he very much did not want him to. He eagerly fantasizes: oh, a shame my bride died the day I introduced him to my ride.

A true shame.

"Calm yourself," Daemon sniggers as he forcefully pushes you towards the blood wyrm, "the harder you make this for yourself, the harder it will be."

You found no encouragement in that, for no part of it meant to encourage. You continue to writhe against him, pushing yourself back, only to be pressed against the prince's chest and urged forward. It didn't help that he shackled his hands on both of your wrists, preventing you from elbowing him away.

Though your hair was braided to the side, you still manage to whip it to Daemon's face in your attempt to free yourself, only causing him to be more impatient. You could not help the harrowing shriek that left you when he ultimately brought you to the beast's maw, and the said creature pressed himself against your chest to sniff you.

Caraxes rips away and shakes his head at your piercing reaction. He shrieks in like, as if disapproving, or showing offence. He must exact appropriate retaliation. He draws a deep breath, readying to set you ablaze. Daemon would have let him, had he not been a direct target of his mount's wrath, "keligon, Caraxes!"

Caraxes hisses.

"Keligon!" Stop!

He does not enjoy the order, exemplified by the way he licked his teeth, but obeys, nonetheless. He roars one last time, spit sputtering onto your face as he does. It's enough to make you finally lose your resolve.

You cease your wrangling and find yourself going limp in his arms. Daemon is pleased. He can finally drag you on dragon-back and torment you even more mid-air. What he did not know, however, was that your stomach was tingling; it was not that of the usual dread so familiar to you, but twas familiar still.

Daemon takes you by the arm and tries to make you climb up to the saddle, but then he stills when he hears the sound you make. He pulls away just before the acid from your stomach rushes out of your mouth. You retch so much it comes out of your nose, and you feel yourself grow lightheaded.

"Fucking gods," Daemon recoils in disgust. He turns to one of the dragon keepers and orders you away.

The dragon keeper, who looked far older than your father, spoke to you in a language you could not make out. You understand the part where he says maester as he leads you out of the pit. You manage to convey you no longer needed his assistance once you were out and walked off by yourself. You flinch and shriek when Daemon takes off on Caraxes.

You do not go to the maester's, instead, you have your servants draw you a warm bath and stay in it until it is cold. Only then do you scrub your skin until it is tender.

Once you were clean, you looked for the only person in the world that did not use your name interchangeably with hysteria: your twin.

"That uliginous blinkard," Gwayne slashes the dummy before him. You watch him pace from the bench you were sat upon. "He is incapable of procuring a morsel of dignity out of his wretched existence."

You clench you jaw when he chucks his sword to the ground.

"I should smother him in his sleep."

The thought chills you.

"But then I would be no better than he, would I not?" he seethes as he walks to your side, grabbing the towel beside you.

He wipes his face. You look up at him, a line forming between your brows, "remember you are my confidant, not my vindicator."

"If not I," he chucks his towel back beside you, "then who?" His forehead wrinkles, "an affront to my twin is worse than one to myself."

"Then you would know better than anyone that I share your sentiment," you grab his arm, hoping to calm him down.

His face is hard. He pushes your hand away.

You sigh, "and you know well that I suffer more in circumstances where you've acted on my behalf."

He clenches his jaw. He draws a deep breath and denies the thought with the shake of his head, "father will not hold it against-"

"Father holds everything against me," your eyes instantly water, "he would not be our father if he did not."

Your twin has never spoken your name any other way but in gentleness, yet it is precisely why it chips you apart. Gwayne continues, "be it as it may, but I do not believe that he gave to the prince— certainly not willingly."

You laugh and lift your countenance to the sky. Tears fall from the corner of your eyes, down your ears and neck, "does it matter?"

"It does," he urges, "he fought for you."

"He does not fight for me," you turn back to him, "allow yourself to come to terms with it as I have. It will hurt you less."

Gwayne does not manage a response as someone else speaks in that moment. The way you both tense at the sound is that of instinct.

"You vomited in the dragon pit?"

You turn over your shoulder and shoot up from where you sat. You watch as your father walks towards you. He places a hand on your neck and looks you up and down, "did the prince jostle you so on his ride?"

His touch is like a searing rod against your skin, his eyes, even worse. The raised hairs on your neck remain even as he pulls away. You quietly retort, "I did not even touch his saddle."

"Oh," Otto raises his brows, "then perhaps your affliction is that of you carrying."

Carrying?

Both you and Gwayne are mortified by the idea. You stutter, "s-surely it is not that quick."

"The blood of the dragon runs hot," he sighs, "as he would so boldly proclaim."

Your face burns upon hearing this.

Your father looks past you, "take your sister to the maester at once."

"No, I-"

"Make sure that she is good condition and take note of what will be instructed of her."

"That is not-"

"I am sure she will be required to take further precautions because of her affli-"

"We did not!" you blurt, finally regaining the attention of your father.

Your heart races as Otto looks at you. Suddenly, you are like a deer shot by an arrow, pained and powerless. He is annoyed that you interrupted him, only to say nothing. He presses, "we did not what?"

You take a strangled breath before reply, "we... did not consummate ou-"

"You what?!" he steps forward.

Gwayne immediately takes your arm, eager to get between you two, "father-"

But Otto does the same and pulls you toward him, "you did not consummate, or you did not want to consummate your marriage?"

Gwayne's hold on you falters. Your saliva lumps in your throat, "I-"

"You do understand the consequences if you do not bear your husband heirs, correct?"

You turn to your feet, unable to hold his heated glare, "I-"

"Look at me when I speak to you," he shakes you.

You lift your eyes, and hot tears begin to rush down your face.

"You've proven your point, father," Gwayne blurts, "release her."

"Release her?" Otto redirects his ire. Though he does just that, it feels as though an iron clamp around your neck replaces your father's hold. "Even if I were to release her, boy, your dearest twin sister will not be free of the truth," he turns back to you, "nor my point. Your failure to do what is necessary will lead you straight into the dragon's belly."

You clench your jaw tighter than anyone should.

"Do you understand, girl?"

You nod before you allow yourself to breathe. You blurt, "yes, my lord."

Otto looks you once over before turning around and walking away. The moment he is out of sight, you fold like a deck of cards, and Gwayne must keep you upright.

He hushes you and sits you back down. He kneels in front of you, observing if you were about to collapse into another episode. You do not, for he was with you, but you do weep until tears could no longer fall. He leads you to your room after this and urges you to rest.

You repeat the prayer you prayed on your wedding night before you sleep.

#daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon smut #daemon targaryen smut #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen fluff #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #daemon angst #daemon targaryen angst

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eraenaa · 5 months ago

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Tea Party (Modern AU)

Aemond Targaryen x Stark Reader Tag List

Synopsis: Aemond convinces you to let Helaena join your group’s exclusive tea party, using any means necessary just for you to agree.

Warnings: ¿Super Soft Aemond?, Mature, 18+, Stimulation, Aftercare, P in V Sex, {Using Sex as a Weapon}, Not Proofread

Word Count: 2,349

A/N: Based on a request by @slytherincursebreaker

“I have to go,” You sighed and pecked Aemond’s lips as you two were walking along the courtyard of your university. Aemond quietly groaned in protest, “Do you really have to? Just skip it this week,” He said, not letting go of your hand, instead pulling you closer to him, making you laugh. “I’ve already skipped last week’s session, per your request— the girls will have my head if I miss today as well,” You sighed and rested your palm on his chest as he rolled his eye and shook his head. “It’s just an hour… or two,” You added and went to the tip of your toes to peck his lips again, but Aemond took hold of your cheek to deepen your kiss.

When you parted, you breathed out a laugh, “Now I really have to go,” you sighed and turned away to hastily walk to the hall before your dearest partner could drag you to your shared flat, “Hi, Helaena!” You greeted her as you passed his sister, waving your hand and giving her a wide smile. “Where is she going?” Helaena quietly asked her brother, who sighed and shook his head, “Tea party,” He answered, and Helaena nodded, “That reminds me, we found another for you to add to your collection,” Aemond said as he walked with his sister, reaching in the pocket of his leather jacket and acquire a small, clear box that housed a beetle his sister was overly fond of collecting.

Aemond gazed at his sister, slightly frowning as she appeared unimpressed by the small gift you and he had acquired for her. Normally, a smile would adorn her lips, and her eyes would twinkle in mirth; now, however, her expression was threading to melancholy. “Are you well? Do you not like it? Or perhaps you already have this variant?” Aemond asked in concern, halting his steps. Helaena shook her head and plastered a small smile, but her brother saw right through her act. “Tell me,” Aemond insisted, and Helaena sighed, her gaze plastered to the ground.

“I… I want to join their tea party,” She said quietly, but that did not aid Aemond’s confusion about her sullen state. “It’s just… it looks like quite fun. The treats they serve always look so delicious, and I would always see them laughing in the hall,” She explained further. Aemond licked his lips and hummed, nodding in understanding. “Do you truly wish to join?” Aemond asked, and Helaena cast her gaze upward in hope and fervently nodded. “I’ll see what I can do,”

“No,” You responded to Aemond’s query; the both of you were having dinner when he asked you if you could let Heleana join your group’s tea party. “Why not?” Aemond asked. “Aemond, I love Helaena… I do, but she cannot join,” You say, and Aemond’s furrowed brows only severed. “Why not? You’re not giving me a reason. My sister truly wants to join— she noted how fun you and your group have, and she wishes to be part of it.” You sighed and shook your head, taking a sip of wine before speaking.

“Aemond, they’re not having fun— they’re making fun at other people’s expense!” You explained and stood, moving to clear the plates, but Aemond hindered you and took the empty dishes himself as he followed you to the kitchens. “What?” He asked as he placed the dishes in the sink. “Those girls are vicious. They look sweet, they truly do, but they’ll eat her alive,” You explained, but still, Aemond was just wholly confused. “Aemond, you and I know of your sister’s little quirks… and I love them; I find them endearing, but to others… they won’t be so… welcoming to it,” you said delicately.

“Helaena is a Targaryen. She belongs in that group with you and the other daughters of the great families.” Aemond insisted, and you drank the finality of your wine. “Yes, I am aware of your family’s standing— your family’s power is not the problem here. It is that Helaena is too… soft to be a part of that group,” Aemond scoffed, “You are part of the group,” He stated, and you shook your head, stepping closer to him. “I have been desensitized by those girls; our familiarity since childhood had prepared me for their harshness,” You said, “You should have been there today; they did a full half-hour making fun of Jacaerys’ posture alone!” You added, and Aemond snickered. You gazed at his reaction, noting that he would do well in that group along with the ladies who had no problem in drawing criticism at the expense of others. “I just don’t think she’ll be comfortable there,” You said quietly. Aemond sighed, not conceding until he had accomplished getting Helaena into your overly exclusive group.

“Are you not their leader? Can you not just order them to play nice?” Your lips agape at Aemond’s question. “There’s no leader here,” You denied, but Aemond raised his brow, a smirk slipping his lips as he knew fully well that you were practically queen in the eyes of those girls. You breathed out a laugh at the stare Aemond gave you. “Aemond,” You sighed as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Please, for me,” he said, and your heart grew soft at the pleading in his eye. “Aemond,” You sighed once more and tried to walk away, but he urged you to stay rooted on your spot, burying his face in your neck and placing small kisses upon it, trying to sway your mind.

“She… she would not like it,” You stuttered, mind distracted and your body filling with the familiar need that only he could conjure and sedate. Aemond hummed as he sucked on a delicate spot that made your knees weak and your whole being wanton. “How are you so certain?” Aemond hummed as his hands squeezed the flesh of your behind, smirking against your skin as he felt the buds of your breast peak and strain through the thin sheet of your dress. Aemond returned his lips to yours, kissing you in the way that he knew would leave you dazed, the two of you stumbling toward the bedroom of your flat, him gently laying on the bed as his hands wandered through your body, leaving fire in the wake of his cold touch.

You called for his name as his lips traveled from the apex of your neck to your bosom. His hands hiking up the fabric of your dress higher and higher. “Reconsider, my darling?” Aemond hummed as he sucked on your skin, leaving his little marks. Your breathing labored as he bundled the skirt of your dress to your waist. You mindlessly shook your head as he pulled down the bodice of your dress and took the bud of your breast into his mouth, his tongue circling and his teeth lightly biting it.

When Aemond heard no reply, he knew he should double his efforts. His hands slithered upwards, resting on each of your thighs. He tailed his kisses further south and planted them on the insides of your thighs. “Aemond, please,” You called, and you felt him smirk against your skin. “Reconsider first,” he said, and you groaned. His stubbornness and insistence placed a buffer on your wants. Aemond sighed as he felt you push him away, trying to stir away from his hold, but his arms hooked around your thighs prevented you from doing so.

“I’m not in the mood anymore,” You sighed and tried to release yourself from his hold, and Aemond started to regret pushing you further. Aemond sighed as he watched you hop out of bed, and he groaned as he was filled with need for you, but he had overplayed his hand. “Darling,” he called as he followed you to the washroom, trying to wash your face with cold water to lessen the flush on your cheeks. Aemond walked behind you and rested his forehead on your shoulder, a grieved sigh escaping his lips, and you felt his need pressed against your backside.

“I’m sorry,” you hear him murmur and place a kiss on your shoulder. “It is just… I do not want Helaena missing out,” Aemond sighed and brushed away a lock of your silky hair. “I do not want for her to miss out as well— and she won’t! She won’t miss out by not attending this tea party; she’d be saved from their ill topics.” You said and turned around; Aemond flushed against your frame, and you situated between him and the marble sink. You watched as Aemond licked his lips, eye darting around the room.

“Then let her decide. Let her try it first; if she does not like it, she does not have to return now, does she? Let her see for herself,” Aemond suggested, his hands cupping your cheeks. You sighed and relented, nodding your head as his fingers caressed your cheeks. “Fine,” You sighed and Aemond placed a kiss on the side of your lips. “Swear,” He said, knowing you could never go back on your word. You groaned at his tactic, “I swear to you,” You said quietly, and you felt a smile on his lips as he kissed yours.

You moaned quietly as Aemond perched you upon the cool marble of the counter, his fingers caressing your back and slyly undid the zipper of your dress, the sleeves of it coming loose on your shoulder. You moaned against his mouth as his hand yanked downward the bodice of your dress, and his hand toyed with you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, your need for Aemond severe. You hear a quiet sound emit from his throat as you ground your hips against his, your hands flying to the waistband of his trousers to remove it. Aemond parted your lips as he felt you cup his length, your soft hand lightly moving against the pulsating and stiff bulge.

“You’re teasing me, my darling.” He warned, his lilac eye turning deep amethyst with want. With your other hand, you reached to remove his eyepatch to see the whole of him, your thumb tracing his scar, and you breathed heavily as he leaned further into your touch. “You were teasing me first,” came your reply and Aemond smirked before capturing your lips again, him being the one to fully remove his trousers. “Fuck, I missed you,” You hear him breathe out as he sheathed himself inside you. Wetness had greatly gathered and offered no resistance to assist Aemond’s well-endowed length. “You just had me this morning,” You say breathlessly, slightly amused by his statement.

“That was not enough,” He hissed as he felt the tip of his cock press against the spongey spot in your cunt; his hand rested upon your waist as he tilted your head back and rested upon the mirror of the sink. “Aemond… oh god, don’t stop— just like that,” You moaned as his thrusts were relentless, presenting you with pleasure that consumed you whole. You feel his thumb pressed flatly upon your nubbin, drawing circles upon it, and he hissed as you clenched tightly around his length; you were quick to come undone. You moved and placed your hold on the nape of Aemond’s neck, locking your lips as the altered position had proved to lead his thrusts deeper. Aemond groaned as you bit his lip through your kiss, pulling you close and willing you to do it once more.

“Aemond… Aemond,” You cried as you felt the familiar knot in your core tightening once more, your orgasms always quick to follow one another. “Will you come again so quickly, my darling?” Aemond hummed as you guided his hand to your tit once more, him smirking as your eyes rolled back and his hands palmed your breast. “Only I can make you feel as this… only I can have you like this,” Aemond gritted in pleasure. You nodded your head, a moan escaping your lips as you agreed. “Swear it. Swear that you are only mine.” Aemond’s thrust began to falter, his own release coming quickly. “I am only yours; I swear.” You moaned and peeled your eyes open to watch his pleasure-etched face as he spilled himself deep inside your cunt.

You breathed heavily and simply observed as Aemond opened the faucet of the sink and took a towel to run through the water. You bit your lip as slipped out of you, watching as he smirked as he saw your cunt drip of your essences. Your hazy eyes observed as he sank to his knees and cleaned the consequences of your coupling, placing a kiss on the inside of your thighs before hoisting you up and carrying you to your bed so the two of you may rest. He tucked you in his arms and ran his hand through your hair, lulling you to sleep.

The following week, Aemond observed from a distance as you introduced Helaena to your group, who held their weekly tea party. He watched as a smile was on yours and his sister’s face and you guided Helaena to seat next to yours. He observed for a moment as the girl was rendered silent, and you tried to return them to their conversation to reassure them that the outsider they deemed his sister to be would not be a hindrance to their topics.

Aemond glanced to his side and saw his brother appear, his brow in a furrow as he observed the scene. “How… what is Helaena doing there?” He asked in disbelief. Aemond smirked, recalling how he had convinced you. “I have my ways,” he said lowly and watched you take a cup to your lips, the conversation of your group continuing once more. “Will she even fit in there? Does their group not just gossip and criticize other people?” Aegon asked. Aemond watched as his sister’s lips began to move, sharing an anecdote with your group, and he noted how the group’s full attention was on hers. “She’ll do just fine.”

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cameronspecial · 6 months ago

Note

I wanted to ask if you could write something with rafe where reader does selfharm and he finds out? Maybe with a soft version of rafe

Not Going Anywhere

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SELF-HARM and Talks of DEPRESSION (Please don't read if these are a trigger).

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

A/N: If you or anyone you know are experiencing depression, then please know you are not alone and there are people who can help. The internet has information on the best places for you to go to in your country. Not tagging anyone just in case this is a trigger for anyone on my tag list.

Masterlist

It isn’t for attention. That is one assumption most people make whenever they see the scars. It’s the reason why she hides them on her hips. She doesn’t have to worry about anyone seeing it because no one sees her naked, not even her boyfriend. The only times the marks see the light of day are when she changes or showers. She makes sure the cuts made can be hidden by her underwear and any panties or bikini bottoms she buys need to pass that test as well.

No matter how wrong she knows it is, she can’t help but hold the cold sharp blade against the tough skin. It is resting on top of a barely healing scar because she has no other place for it. Her breath hitches as she pulls the Exacto knife across her, going a little farther than the mark already made. Tears are running down her face. Her eyes blur as she repeats the motion below the blooming red line. Her breath is uneven and hitches every time the metal touches her skin. In some sick way, the pain gives her a small relief. It gives her a reason.

Most people wonder why someone would cause harm to themselves. They would guess that the despair is caused by a lack of food, shelter, money, clothes or love. However, Y/N doesn’t have that issue. How could she when she is a kook? No, she has never felt hunger or fear and that is the cause of the turmoil inside of her head. Nonetheless, ever since she entered teenhood, she would experience these months-long periods of extreme sadness. She would do her best to hide them from everyone by pushing herself to get out of bed and go to activities that she would normally enjoy. She would make sure to cry when no one else was at home and to track her family members’ phones to verify she was alone. It was a secret she kept so deep within her that she started to question why she felt this way. That is when the true problems began. She felt guilty for feeling this despair without a reason and it was furthered by the secrets she had to keep, so she began to self-harm as her reason. In her brain, partly because of what society has told her, she needed a reason for why she was melancholy because there are people in the world who were dealt much tougher times in life.

So, that is how she finds herself standing in front of the mirror, holding down the right side of her underwear and dragging an Exacto knife along her skin. She has fallen into one of her episodes and this time, it is the worst one to date. She has never pressed so hard into her skin with the blade. It has never bled this much. She curses as the blood begins to seep into the cotton of her underwear. Her attention is on stopping the red from staining her clothes, so she doesn’t hear the front door open.

Rafe whistles whilst he uses his copy of the key to open Y/N’s front door. People thought it was too early when they exchanged house keys after only six months of dating. They didn’t though. It felt like the next step when she told him that she was saving herself for marriage. They found a different way to reach a new level of intimacy and it worked for them. Her house is eerily quiet and dark. Normally, she keeps the hallway lights on when she is home and if she is watching TV/listening to music, it is so loud that it could make a deaf person hear. He doesn’t let the lack of normality stop him from making his way to her bedroom, thinking nothing that her door is closed. He uses the doorknob to push it open and he is surprised to see her standing in front of the mirror with her hands pressing against her hip. It takes him a second to process that blood stains her hand. His shock turns to worry as he rushes to her side. He trips over something in his attempt to get to her and looks down to see a bloody Exacto knife, like the kind she uses to cut things for her art. He kicks it away and removes her hand from her side. He curses at the amount of blood. This needs stitches.

“My love, what happened?” he asks, hoping the theory he has isn’t true. He sees the tears running down her face and the way her mouth opens and closes. She has no idea how to answer. The hiccups of her crying make it even harder. Instead of waiting for an answer, Rafe washes his hands and gets the first aid kit in her bathroom. He uses the bandage wrap inside it to catch the blood, instructing her to use it to apply pressure whilst he guides her to his car. The drive to the hospital is silent.

———

Y/N told the medical practitioner the truth as to how she got the cuts and scars. She couldn’t lie with Rafe in the room. He had offered to step out, except she asked him to stay. She was tired of lying. It only added to her exhaustion. Y/N didn’t have to say much before the doctor excused herself to get a hospital psychiatrist. Rafe said nothing as she described the anguish she felt. He felt a sharp stab to his heart at every word she said, criticizing himself for not seeing the mental pain his girlfriend was in.

With the doctor gone, he speaks up. “Is there anything I can do right now that can help you feel more comfortable?” She appreciates that he doesn’t assume that there is an easy fix to this or that at the moment there is something quick he can do to make her feel better. His focus on her comfort causes a flutter in her stomach. She nods, “Can you just hold me?” He joins her on the hospital bed and pulls her to his side. The buzz of the lights is the sole thing that can be heard for a while. “This isn’t your fault,” she clarifies, concerned that he might think it. He kisses her temple, “I know. Thank you for trusting me enough to be in the room when you told the doctor what happened. This isn’t your fault either and you are so brave for asking for help. If you want, I will be here to help you every step of the way.” A different kind of relief comes over her. She feels a glimmer of hope that she doesn’t have to do this alone. “I want you here,” she whispers, pressing her face into his side. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader

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icarustypicalfall · 7 months ago

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He'd fall harder

masterlist • ao3 • follow for more 🤍

note: fluff/ I'll make from this a series dw

if you want to be added to the tag list tell me :)

"Mon cœur bat aux rythmes de ta douce voix"

He was there again. He visited your café for the third time this week. It was a normal place, stays open till dawn and provides him with sweet pastries and drinks to pass the night.

Simon adopted this ritual of coming whenever you had your shift at night. You were oblivious he'll never show up in the morning, he only comes from dusk to admire you from afar.

You talked to him countless times, joking about the government, books and whatever else on the small TV. He found himself interested. His small ten minute pause turned into a three hour session of gossip and jokes. It was the first time he met you and he was already hooked on.

Tonight, he sat at the same booth, eyeing your sweet face from afar. He felt distressed, knowing you'd never be his. Shaking his head, he dived in the abyss of melancholy while looking in his pocket for his lighter, the cigarette between his lips a proof to his misery.

He closed his eyes, and a sound clicked in front of him, followed by the familiar smell of the smoke. He eyed you, your soft smile as you uttered:"I got you, Lt!" Your hand was extended in front of him, holding a lighter, he could smell off your skin the gentle musk of coffee and cacao.

It took from Simon so much self grounding to not fall on one knee and propose to you, offering his life to be yours.

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #𓆩♡𓆪 faith writes #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost #ghost simon riley x reader #cod ghost #cod simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #cod fics

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theothernads · 1 month ago

Text

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ ❛❛ 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 - 𝐘𝐉𝐖 ❞ ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

♡ྀི ₊ ❛❛𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬❞ ☰

Synopsis: ₊˚⊹♡

With the third magical academic year starting, you and Jungwon plan to have a normal school year and complete many goals. Except, you have to earn Enchantix with your frequent burn-outs, and Jungwon wants to become a full-fledged warrior and push past his anxiety. With their own goals in mind, they feel like 2 idiots that keep meeting by chance. However, when mysterious events threaten the magical kingdoms and schools, the specialists and fairies have to figure out the culprit and save the magical universe. But fate has other plans for their adventures and for your ‘coincidental’ meeting with Jungwon.

☰ TAGS: Winx Club smau, enhypen smau, slow-ass burn fic, violence, action and adventure, angst, college smau, fantasy au, strangers to lovers

╰┈➤𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 (comment or give an ask<3)

𝖸𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

➤ft. NewJeans, Enha, TXT, BTS, esp, Jungkook, Itzy, Le Sserafim

⚠️Warning: swearing, violence, manipulation, family problems, over-exertion, anxiety, kys joks, sexual jokes, suggestive/smut (idk, tbh??), health problems, crime

⤷do not proceed if u have a problem/sensitivity to any of those topics

ᯓᡣ𐭩[NADDI NOTES]: I am sorry for discontinuing the last Jungwon story, but um, here u go, lmao??? REBLOGS, LIKES, COMMENTS are very much appreciated <3 also, idk why the banner looks so crusty. But I promise, if u tap on it, it will look clearer. L tumblr

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⋆ཐིཋྀᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs:.ೃ࿔*:･. .☘︎ ݁˖ :

PROFILES: the fairies🧚‍♀️. || PROFILE: the specialists

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ 𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜: 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗥𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘇𝘃𝗼𝘂𝘀 ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

CHAPTER 1: back here again

CHAPTER 2: WE DID NOT FUCK

CHAPTER 3: the "W word"😭

CHAPTER 4: stress-baking

CHAPTER 5: I'm not into apex predators😒

CHAPTER 6: OH, it's YOU⁉️

CHAPTER 7: I may die??

CHAPTER 8: Why i don't f with dragons

CHAPTER 9: ur kinda a snitch 😐

CHAPTER 10: I'm not stressed abt a girl 🧍🏻‍♀️

CHAPTER 11: Drama Queen

CHAPTER 12: Attention hoe

CHAPTER 13: oh...

Tba...

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Do not copy/reupload my work. All rights are reserved to me. I worked hard to create my plot, so do not steal any of it otherwise you will be reported immediately, and I will have a go at you.

Any locations, characters used in this book DO NOT have a relevance to real life. Any event resembling anything to real life is coincidence. I do not condone harmful behaviours. This is fiction. It is all for entertainment purposes.

☰ [ENHA NAVIGATION]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊[TAGLIST]: @dreamiestay @melancholy-z @n1k1mura @wensurr @jiiyen @jwonistic

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blueparadis · 1 year ago

Text

꒰ I HOPE THAT YOU THINK OF ME ꒱ ⋮ GETO SUGURU →[ CONTENT & TAGS ] :: f!reader × geto suguru, angst, unrequited feelings, mixed feelings, first kiss, suggestive, slice of life, canon divergent, no manga spoilers but I wrote his character based on the first scene of the first episode. characters_ mention of gojo ( there is no Suguru without Satoru), mention of shoko, utahime, mei mei, yu, nanami. back to blog navigation.

Rain in Tokyo has always come with a touch of melancholy for Geto Suguru. It reminds him of the dread in the eyes of mundanes. It reminds him how in weather like this cursed spirits pop like soda bubbles, it is everywhere. But certainly, sometimes it becomes a little less desolate with Satoru, Shoko, and his beloved juniors around, that is, Yu and Nanami; only a little though. Today's downpour is nothing spectacular. The splattering raindrops are hitting the window pane persistently. It has been like that for hours even though the weather forecast did not foretell such heavy rainfall. The college hours have already been over but he is stuck here due to rain along with some other students and teachers. He thinks it might be a curse to be the cause of such poor weather. Heck! If this continues some might have been asked to go for a scrutiny. Teachers at Jujutsu High are extremely fond of practical work. If only the rain had started just after he reached his home, he would not have hated it so much. Every time it rains, either he is outside or stuck somewhere or forgets to bring an umbrella. And, on the days when he is cautious enough for bringing a raincoat as well as an umbrella, there are roses and sunshines everywhere. It is annoying. Why does the weather always be so treacherous?

“What's up?” Satoru asks leaning against the the desk, “Did you two fight again?” He takes his place beside Suguru keeping one foot on the bar of his friend’s chair. He loves the rain, in fact, he would not have bothered to run in the rain just to go home but then, he would have been greeted by a cold soon; enough to miss some days for college. So, he always carries an umbrella. But he can not leave his dear friend alone, especially in the times of wailing agony. He refuses to give him some moments of peace.

Suguru who was staring at the rain shifts his head towards his friend with no dunes and crescents over his forehead. His forearms are now resting on the desk which was supporting his sad face before. His eyes gauge Satoru. “Suguru, can you hear me? Are you okay?” Again with the theatrics. If his mind would not have been occupied by you, he would have been definitely annoyed by Satoru.

“with whom?” Suguru deadpanned. He can not let Satoru be a part of this, he can not let Satoru know what happened between you two the last weekend. So, he tries to play safe by asking ‘whom’ instead of ‘why do you think so’ which would have meant the gulf between you two is highly bothersome to him and Satoru would not have shut up about it for days.

“You know who,” Satoru can not help but smirk. He was just standing near your desk with Shoko before coming to him. Normally, you either sit in front of Suguru or by his left side. The right side is always occupied by Satoru. Shoko sits beside you. It's fixed. No one dares to dismantle this chain of friendship. But today, you sat at the first bench at the rightmost corner. The whole class has come to know the turbulence between you two by now. If that is not the case, some would have assumed it and some who are curious might have asked you why are you sitting here? So away from your dear friend. . .

Suguru rolls his tongue inside his mouth being cornered by Satoru like this. He does not have the energy to fight or avert him. He wants to but right now he can not afford to do so. He is trying his best not to look at you and make it obvious for Satoru, to confirm his confusion that something is going on between you two. “oh! C’mon ya'know you can tell me about it...” Satoru presses further.

A thunder flashes breaking the sky apart illuminating the classroom like being in the brightest daylight. Your shoulder reflexively contorted, heartbeat gets louder as if your heart just shifted in your ears. Shoko composes herself as she laughs seeing you jerk, enough to feel tears at the edge of her eyes. It is not natural for you to be frightened by lightning.

“Are you okay?” Shoko tries to breath in between her laughter ceasing it momentarily. “you startled me too” She mutters and glances at Suguru for a second. Many others also got shocked by the sudden tremendous thunder. It is natural but you had the most reaction almost losing your balance on chair probably because of the headsets you had. Rain and music always made you forget about this wretched world that you belonged and no matter what you could never turn your back to it. But even if it is just for a moment, would it really hurt?

Shoko is not the only one who had a reaction to you. Suguru had too. His eyes are now on you, your face that is marked with wide eyes and a warm laughter looking at Shoko. He almost left his seat when you lost your balance. Damn it. Why do you always affect him in the worst possible ways?

“Is y/n here?” You recognise that voice. Kouske enters the classroom with Mei Mei and the bruised skin of you heart are in tatters now. He looks around for a few seconds till his eyes land on you. “I was here for work but with this weather, i figured I might as well drop you home, or take you home.” He stated with a warming smile keeping his hand on your desk leaning a bit.

Seeing Mei Mei, Shoko might have gone to look for Utahime so Kouske can not be kept occupied like usual. Suguru’s jaw muscles shifted. He stretched his arms forward on the desk dipping his head in between them. “I kissed her.” Satoru’s eyes dilate at the confession. “Last Saturday.” Suguru raised his head to look at his friend and then at you. “At the cafe near her house. She was crying over—

“Are you seriously serious? You know the risks of your—

“—of my feelings? my actions? Yeah, I know. I know Sah-toru.” Geto takes a glace at Satoru before leaving his seat. Walking toward Kouske he exclaimed with a neutral tone,“What’s up Kou-san?” He stands beside your desk. “I heard about your first job. Congratulations on your first paycheck — As they kept talking Suguru rested one of his arms at the back of your chair. If you lean you would feel his skin burning against yours, just like that day, just like when he kissed you.

That day, it was raining like this too. At the back alley of the cafe near your house when you told him how your family wanted you to marry the next family head of Hirahara, when you told him that it was Kouske, when you were bowing your head down unable to meet his eyes because yours were so full of woe Suguru held your hand. He held your hand making you pause your talk and when you looked at him his fingers found it's way in between yours filling the gaps. He squeezed your hands, his lips distorting in guilt before it touched yours.

The first kiss tasted nothing like you had read or heard and indeed, nothing like you had imagined. He slipped his palm through your loose hair along your cheeks to get more of you but you pushed him, turned around, and left. You kept running and running and running; never looked back.

You had not picked up any calls, neither reapended to any messages since then. Suguru must be thinking you were avoiding him but that was not the case. You were avoiding your ex-boyfriend, Kouske. You wish you could curse him, like normal people have the privilege, when talks of your marriage started to unfold around the Hirahara family. The rainfall became more vivid coating the streets and the playground in white. Kouske pauses Geto for a second and takes your hand in his and places a soft kiss. “I’ll be waiting for you in my car, love.”

“Let’s go.” He states and Geto tags along. He waves at Satoru and he joins too. Before exiting the classroom, he looked back and a shiver ran down your spine. His look was so full of rage and jealousy minutes ago and now there is only disgust. It was hard to understand if you were the stimulus or was it Kouske? About an hour after you see Geto walking alone through the corridor. As you get out of the room, you found him leaning against the wall. You walk towards him while his eyes focused on you.

You open your mouth trying to thank him for cutting in and saving you from his attention earlier because the more you avoid Kouske, the more he gets irritated and greater are the chances of this marriage proposal to fail.

But seeing you avoiding him, he caved in finally. “The rain stopped. Shouldn't you hurry to your fiancé ?”

“He is not my fiance.”

“Well, not yet.” You sigh heavily letting him know that his presence is as suffocating as Kouske’s. “but he is your ex.”

“I just wanted to thank you — You start and instantly regret. You turn on your heel without wanting to see his reaction. He is surely unaware of his mistake he committed last Saturday and he is not showing any signs of it till now. You just kept overthinking about something which was not worth it.

Suguru turns around and walks close enough to stand behind you. “don't get the wrong idea, princess. I didn't do it for you, I did it for myself.” He whispered near your ears rousing goosebumps on your nape. When you snapped your head back at him he was already walking away. You were still standing in the corridor, watching your friend walk away. He must really hate you for what you did.

Suguru smiled to himself. He might be selfish for stealing your first kiss, ruining the friendship you had with him, but at least every time it rains you will think of him. There is a strange sense of satisfaction for what he did and why he did. Of course he has no chance of winning you, neither get at par with Kouske but the jealousy of seeing you with another man drives him nuts. He will devour every touch, every voice and every pair of eyes that has on you but will never give you the power to shoo him away. He will do that by himself, so that every time a man haunts you he is the only one to put an end to it, to be the cause and then cease it, the suffering.

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discordantwritings · 6 months ago

Text

Feeling Better

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, we out here monsterfucking, Jinbe has two dicks, oral sex, fingering, double penetration, PiV sex, anal, belly bulge, use lube guys don’t listen to me

WC: 4.2k

Summary: You’re feeling down, but thankfully Jinbe finds you and gives you all the comfort you need.

Notes: sorry I’ve been ✨depressed✨ so I haven’t written too much but then the cure for being ✨depressed✨ was writing Jinbe comfort so. It all works out.

Tagging: @keiva1000

The aquarium bar was lit only by the lights in the tanks at this time of night, slowly shifting shades of blue thrown about the space as you curled up into yourself in one of the crooks of the long bench. You came here to calm yourself down but it seems the melancholy colors only drag you further into your own sadness, tears streaming down your face despite yourself.

You couldn’t pinpoint one good reason why you felt so painfully empty. Every day you were surrounded by people you were lucky to call your friends, going on adventures across the world, helping people. And yet still sadness crept up on you some nights, clenching your chest and refusing to let go despite all logic. The swimming of the fish around you, that normally fascinates you, feels almost fake as you stare at them for far too long.

You’re about to pull a blanket over your head and try and sleep through the tears when you hear heavy footsteps walk by the entrance and then stop. You do your best to stifle your crying but when a voice calls your name you can’t manage to call back.

It’s Jinbe, probably just getting off of his watch. You try and keep your face hidden but there’s only so much you can do as he slowly walks over.

“Hey, are you okay?” His voice is soft and laced with concern and all the effort you’ve put forth to stop your crying crumbles immediately.

You can barely see his face through your tears but he’s at your side immediately, kneeling on the ground to be more level with you. “Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

You shake your head no and bury your face in your hands. A large hand gently rubs your shoulder as you sob. You’re not sure how long you’re crying before you can pull yourself together, rubbing the tears from your face.

“‘m sorry…” You mumble as you dot the remaining tears from your eyes.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Jinbe gets up and sits next to you, strong hand never leaving your shoulder.

“No this is- it’s so stupid.” Your voice cracks as you feel emotions creeping up your throat again.

“I can assure you it’s not stupid.” He squeezes your shoulder gently. “Would it feel better if I gave you space?”

You furiously shake your head, suddenly hating the idea of being left alone as you feel tears welling up in your eyes again.

“Do you want me to sit next to you? I could hold you if that would make you feel better.” From anyone else you might have thought the offer was hollow but with Jinbe you know he’s sincere.

“If it’s not too much-“ You don’t even need to finish your sentence before strong arms are lifting you up and sliding you into his lap.

You’re sideways on his lap, legs hanging over his large thigh and your side tucked into his chest. There’s a few moments where you’re stunned out of your thoughts by how easily you were maneuvered and how muscular his thighs feel beneath you. But the second your brain catches up and you realize how tightly you’re being held it all comes crashing back.

You dig your face into his shoulder as tears come out again- you try to tell him that you’re sorry and it’s nothing serious but your words are all lost against his firm heartbeat near your head. It’s not long before he starts to hum, a tune you distantly remember from Brook’s playing, and the low reverberations from his chest to yours help your breathing slow. Eventually you’re able to steady out your breaths- partially from how exhausted you are but more so from the constant presence of your crew mate.

There was something about Jinbe that was always so steadying, even before this moment. An immovable and fierce presence that was somehow still endlessly kind and patient. You’re not sure how that was all wrapped up into one fishman but you were always grateful for it. And now, leaning into his chest, you appreciate him more than ever.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is soft and you feel his thumb rubbing circles on your back as he keeps you against his chest.

“I don’t know…” You answer honestly. “It’s just- I know it’s not logical. And I know once morning comes all these stupid emotions will be gone. Sometimes they just sneak up on me.”

“Emotions are like the tides like that. Controlled by forces we can’t see, ebbing and flowing endlessly. Do not feel silly for not being able to control the tides.”

“That’s…” You huff out a small laugh. “How do you always have just the right thing to say?”

“Years and years of experience.” You aren’t looking at his face but you can hear that wide smile. “And my experience is always available whenever you need it.”

“This is too much to ask of you already.” You say, referring to the fact you’re still being held and comforted despite the worst of your emotions having been spent already.

“It is not. Actually…” He trails off and you look up at him after a few moments of silence. “Never mind.”

Your brows knit together as a traitorous thought that you’ve done something wrong creeps into the back of your mind. “What?”

“No it’s-“ His eyes meet yours and to your surprise you can make out a small dusting of darker blue on his cheeks. “It’s selfish of me.”

“Now you’re just confusing me.” Worries have dissipated but his words still leave you with too many questions.

“I enjoy having you in my arms.” He confesses, movement stilling as he watches your reaction.

It takes a few seconds for his words to sink in but when it does you find a heated blush creeping up your neck. You never considered that Jinbe would like you like that, given the species difference, but you realize it’s not weirder than the way you feel in this moment. How much his presence has always made you feel better, how you felt so protected and cared for whenever he was around.

It was more than just the momentary emotional comfort that had kept you seated in his lap past your crying session.

“I… enjoy being in your arms.” You finally respond, eyes darting down to your lap.

Silence hangs in the room as his hand slides up and down your back again in a comforting motion. You find yourself curling up slightly, heels on his thigh as you angle yourself inwards towards his body. Your fingers play with the collar edge of his kimono absently. The blue hue of the room is no longer somber but instead calming as it glows against Jinbe’s similarly colored skin.

“How do you feel?” He asks after some time, gently breaking the silence.

“Better.” You respond honestly, the weight of sadness having long left your chest.

“Is there anything more I could do for you?” His fingers creep up your back and eventually come to play with the ends of your hair.

“Oh- I’m keeping you up aren’t I?” You sit up straight but Jinbe makes no movement to remove you from his lap.

“You are not. I was- forgive me I’m rather out of practice with this sort of thing.” He shifts slightly under you and you look up to see his face almost a whole shade darker.

Everything clicks and heat races through your body. Suddenly all of the contact you have with him feels electric and you fight not to shrink away.

“There is- I mean-“ You fumble over your words but quickly pull yourself together. “It would be nice to completely forget about earlier.”

“Would you like my help with that?” He asks as the hand playing with your hair sneaks around to your collarbone

“Please, Jinbe.” Your words come out nearly breathless and Jinbe does not waste a second.

His hand tilts your jaw up to give him just the right angle to capture your mouth in a kiss. The kiss is gentle but firm and you find yourself melting into his strong arms. His large tusks pressed into your cheeks but you didn’t mind their presence at all. When he pulls away you’re left breathless and before you can go in for another kiss he’s placed a quick one to your forehead before pulling away further.

Before you know it you’re sitting on the bench and Jinbe is knelt on the ground before you, surprisingly dexterous fingers unfastening your pants. He looks up at you as his hands hesitate, checking one last time. When you nod your pants and underwear are slipped off of you in one fell swoop. Before you can hide yourself Jinbe pushes your thighs open, guiding them to rest over his broad shoulders.

“Forgive me for moving fast but-“ He places kisses up you inner thigh between his words. “I need to taste you.”

Before you can say anything his tongue is at your folds, wet muscle pushing through them and playing at your entrance. You whine as you feel his tongue press into you, slowly working its way inside you. You don’t stop yourself from threading your fingers in his hair and pushing your hips further into his face, grinding your clit against his nose. This only seems to encourage him, his large tongue filling you more than your fingers ever had.

“Jinbe- Please-“ You’re not sure what you’re crying out for exactly but Jinbe is ready to give you what you need.

Sharp fingernails dig into the plush of your thighs just short of pain as his tongue slides out of you to dance along your clit. You have to bite back a shout when he presses and sucks against your bud, sensations suddenly overwhelming you as you see white.

Jinbe gently licks at your folds as you come back from your orgasm, eagerly taking as you run your fingers along his scalp. Once he’s throughly cleaned you up he presses kisses up your hip until he’s standing over you.

“Better?” He asks, face shiny with your slick.

“So, so much better.” You respond with a dazed smile, hand cupping his face.

“Good, we can get you back to bed now.”

His response confuses you, and you sit up a bit straighter. “But what about you?”

“This isn’t about me love, this was about making you feel better.” He turns his head slightly to press a kiss to your palm. “I’m sure I can manage.”

“But what if-“ You shift in your seat, embarrassed despite everything. “What if I want you. More of you.”

There’s a moment of hesitation before Jinbe speaks again. “Trust me there is nothing more I want right now but I don’t want to… overwhelm you.”

It takes a second for your pleasure riddled brain to fully comprehend what his words are implying but oh yeah- he’s a good few feet taller than you which would mean…

The idea only filled your head with more lust.

“Can I see?” You ask, hands already playing with the tie on his kimono.

He nods and you feel his gaze lock onto your face as you undo the knot holding his clothing together. Whatever you thought you were prepared for was quickly blown out of the water. Not one but two cocks stood flushed and erect under the drapes of his kimono. Different from the human anatomy you knew his started off thinner but tapered to incredibly thick at the base. Both looked like two halves of a whole almost, but you knew just one would be an impossible fit. The challenge sent a new wave of heat through your body.

“Like I said, I don’t want to-“

“I need you inside me.” You cut him off, looking up to lock eyes with him.

He looks at you, stunned for a second before a large toothy grin takes over his face. He surges down to meet you in a kiss, more heated and charged than the one you shared before. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue and you don’t pull away until you’re dizzy from lack of air.

“Stay here for just a moment.” He says before pulling away.

You watch as her gathers up some of the pillows and a blanket, setting them up on one of the nearby tables. You nearly giggle at how carefully he places every pillow and how he takes his time to make sure you’ll be comfortable. Obviously you’d both prefer a bed but there’s no crossover of beds and private space aboard the ship.

At least Franky always reenforces all furniture and bolts every table to the ground. You’ll have to thank him for that later.

When Jinbe is done with his makeshift bed he rushes back over to you and easily scoops you up into his arms. You yelp and wrap your arms around his neck and Jinbe laughs at your reaction. It’s only a few seconds before you’re sat on the table, the blanket and pillows softening the hard wood under you. You keep your arms around Jinbe’s shoulders and while he has to lean down a bit to keep his face close to yours it doesn’t seem to bother him. You try to wiggle your hips closer to grind against him but a firm hand holds you in place.

“I’m going to have to open you up a bit first.” He says as a hand creeps between your legs and his breath ghosts over your neck.

“But you just-“

His teeth scrape gently against your neck and you whine. “Patience. I’ll make it worth your while.”

One of his thick fingers presses into you easily and your head falls back. With more of your neck available to him Jinbe lightly bites and sucks your neck, never breaking the skin or causing you pain but using just enough pressure to make you feel him. There’s something about knowing he could very easily rip your throat out that made your brain fog with lust almost just as much as the finger slowly working in and out of you.

He slowly adds a second finger, whispering praises in your ear as he works you open. “Just like that. You’re taking my fingers so well, letting me stretch you out…”

“I can-“ You moan as his fingers curl inside you and one of your hands flies up to grip onto his shoulder. “I can take more.”

“I know you can love.” He places a gentle kiss to your jaw as a third finger begins to join the first two and your body is finally showing some resistance.

It was a stretch before, certainly, but there’s the sting of being forced open as Jinbe presses that third thick finger into you. He feels your body’s resistance and his thumb quickly finds your clit, rubbing slow soothing circles into it.

“Just relax for me, I know you can do that.” You nod as you take a deep breath, trying to release the tension in your body.

“‘s a lot.” You breathe out, almost jokingly.

“I know baby.” The three fingers are fully inside you by now but they aren’t sliding in and out easily. “How about you tell me how you feel.”

“Full.” You respond automatically, earning a huff of laughter from Jinbe.

“You’re going to get much more full than this.”

“That’s- fuck I need that-“ Remembering what you’re working towards and the deliberate movements of Jinbe finally have him moving without any resistance.

“You’re just about ready, do you feel okay?” Jinbe locks eyes with you, concern and care still prominent on his face despite the clear lust.

“I- um-“ You weren’t hesitating because you didn’t want him inside you- quite the opposite really.

Eyes glancing down for a second at his cocks, flushed and leaking, you can’t help the perverted places your mind goes. Of course you would take whatever he would give you however he would give it to you but…

“Use you words love.” He’s hesitant but firm as his movements still.

“Is there- and if you don’t want this please don’t feel bad but- do you think it’s possible that you could be in there-“ You roll your hips to push his fingers just a little bit further inside you. “And my other hole?”

There’s a painfully long pause after you ask that question- so much that you’re about to backpedal and call off the whole night but the Jinbe drops his head into your shoulder and lets out a loud moan. To your side where Jinbe’s hand helped him lean against the table you hear the sound of wood cracking and you look over to see the table has given in slightly under his grip.

“Fuck you’re so-“ He moves up again so his forehead is pressing against yours. “You’re so perfect. Wanting me to fill you up all the way? Just one of your holes wasn’t going to be enough?”

“No- need all of you.” You move your hips to grind into his hand, the idea that a fantasy you didn’t even know you had was about to come true sending you close to the edge.

“Are you going to cum just thinking about it? Need that from you- give me all that slick so I can get your ass ready for me. You want that don’t you? Want these fingers stretching you out again?” Jinbe might be just as far gone as you are, words almost slurred as he matches the rhythm you’ve set.

His encouragement is all you need, crying out as your walls clench around his fingers as you cum.

“That’s it baby just like that-“ He nuzzled against your cheek as the last of the tremors worked through your body. “Can you lay down for me now?”

You ease yourself backwards and Jinbe makes sure there’s a pillow ready for your head. With one hand he lifts your hips up and slides another pillow underneath them, giving him better access to you. He easily but gently manipulates your body, pushing your thighs up and apart.

“You can put your legs on me if you need to but I’m going to need you to help me keep you open, okay?” His hands knead your thighs, some of your juices from his hands smearing into your skin.

You shift and reach down, using your hands to pull apart your asscheeks for him. He groans as you hold yourself open, his hands digging into your thighs for a second before he remembers himself. One of his hands releases its grip so a finger can dip between your folds, gathering your slick before trailing down. His fingertip circles the right ring of muscle as he presses a kiss to the inside of your knee.

“Just relax, I’ll take care of you.” You do your best to listen as his finger presses in.

It’s a strangle feeling at first and you have to fight not to tense up as he slowly pushes his finger in further. Once your body is used to the feeling though you can feel the heat seeping into your stomach again as Jinbe works you open, whispering praises to you the whole time.

“You’re taking me so well baby. You’re going to feel so good around me, squeezing me so tight. You can take more, can’t you?” The press of another finger has you tighten up reflexively before you force yourself to relax. “That’s it-“

The stretch of two of his thick fingers stings initially but his actions as slow and careful and the stretch soon becomes almost natural. His other hand leaves your thigh and while it’s getting a bit tiring to hold your legs up and open his skilled fingers working against your clit easily make up for it. You groan as his fingers scissor you open and grow impatient.

“Jinbe please just- I’m ready I need you inside of me.” You whine, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“I don’t want to go too fast-“ He starts but you cut him off.

“You would never hurt me. Please.”

You watch his hesitance fade away as he leans over you for a surprisingly soft kiss. “Alright love.”

He straightens back out and slides his fingers out of you. You whine at the loss but are easily distracted watching him take his cocks in his hands, fingers covered in your slick pumping each of them a few times to get them coated. He carefully lines them both up, dragging the tip of one over your clit before pressing it slightly into your entrance. Once his tip is seated in you then he pushes his other one in and you are already overwhelmed.

He slowly pushes into you and only gets a few inches before you’re tapping his shoulder, needing him to pause. The stretch in both of your holes at once overloads you and you know you need a bit more time to adjust. He understands you immediately, stopping and running his hands over your skin.

“Take your time, you’re alright, I’m right here with you.” He praises, words and hands soothing you as you take deep breaths.

You’re not sure how long it takes before you’re ready again, but the strange feeling of being stretched out bleeds into something far more pleasurable quickly enough. All it takes is for you to nod before he starts slowly pushing in again.

There’s a few more times you have to stop him but he’s just as patient with you every time, non stop praises flowing from him. Soon enough you feel one of his heads press into your cervix and he stops, holding himself in you. When you look down you see that his whole length isn’t in you- that just wasn’t possible- but you had taken most of him. His hand runs over your stomach and you can see and feel his cocks bulging through your midsection. There’s something so maddening to see your body contort in such an unnatural way to accommodate him that makes your head fuzzy with desire.

“Look at that- fuck- you take me so well-“ One of his hands lightly pushes down and you both moan at the feeling. “You feel that?”

You don’t have any words left anymore, so you just nod and whine as his hips lightly grind into you. One of his hands drifts slightly to hold onto your hip while his other finds one of your hands, interlacing your fingers together. He gives you a reassuring squeeze as he slowly starts to move, dragging his cocks out of you.

“You’re so tight and- fuck- warm- baby I’m sorry I’m not going to last long you just- you feel so good.” The hand on your hip holds you still as he pushes back into you, pace slow but deliberate as both of you fight to hold on for just a bit longer.

Your brain couldn’t hold any more thoughts, everything pushed out by the overwhelming sensation of being stuffed full. You’re sure you’re going to rip in half at any point in time but honestly you feel way too damn good to care. Both of his cocks drag against every spot you know and didn’t know about, pleasure in every small movement you’re given. After this you’re not sure how anything will ever compare.

“Are you- I can feel it baby- you’re close too? Getting tighter around me-“ His hips move a bit faster now, unable to stop himself from indulging just a bit more in the way you grip him. “You can let go- I want feel it come on-“

His hand leaves your hip so his fingers can press tight circles against your clit and like that you’re gone. You scream- probably, you can’t really hear yourself but something is ripped out of your throat as you cum harder than you ever have before.

“So good- I’m gonna-“

Jinbe goes to pull out of you but you manage a needy- “Inside” and he quickly shoved himself back inside you as much as he can.

You feel as he releases inside you, his cocks pulsing almost in unison as warm cum fills both your holes. You look at him as he looks down at where you are still connected, his cum spilling out around his cocks. Slowly he pulls himself out of you, mesmerized as he watches his cum slowly seep out of both of your holes. He shakes his head quickly, snapping himself out of his trance and immediately gathers you up in his arms. One arm is behind your back and the other is underneath your knees as he holds you to his chest. He kisses your forehead gently, nuzzling into you slightly.

“Do you feel better now?” He asks, a dazed grin on his face.

“Much better.” You respond, knowing confidently any bad thoughts had been shoved far away.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up and to bed.”

You think you could get used to being taken care of like this.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #x reader #jinbe x reader #jinbei x reader #Jinbe x you #discordantwritings

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whxtedreams · 6 months ago

Text

Uncertain, Unknown

a joel miller x reader oneshot

Summary: You were ready for the end, but a stranger wasn't.

Word Count: 2.6k

Tags: near-death experience, drowning, acceptance of death, (no actual deaths) joel saves you, idk what this is- just felt like writing this. no description of reader.

Main masterlist

You have held a deep-set fear of large bodies of water, their vast depths an abyss of the unknown that suffocates your very being as it reaches out to embrace you in its cold, unforgiving embrace. Its watery tendrils seem to caress the edges of your consciousness, seeking to pull you in and feed on your fears, trapping you within its endless expanse.

As you plunge deeper into the lake, an unexpected tranquility washes over you. The cold and forbidding waters no longer seem menacing; instead, they wrap around you like a warm embrace, flooding you with a sense of familiarity and comfort. In this moment, the lake transforms from a source of fear into a soothing reminder of what home used to be – a safe haven filled with love and affection. You sink effortlessly, held gently in the arms of the water, feeling a deep sense of security and contentment.

As you fall into the depths of the water, time seems to elongate, stretching out into eternity. Yet, deep down, you know that it has only been a mere minute since you hit the surface. You succumb to the pull of gravity, allowing yourself to sink deeper into the aquatic embrace. There is no struggle, no fight for survival. Instead, you surrender fully to the abyss, each second passing like an hour, as your body slowly surrenders to the warm, welcoming grasp of the water.

You had been running with all your might, your legs and chest on fire with exhaustion and fear pumping through your veins. In a moment of panicked desperation, you turned your head to check if your pursuers were behind you. Alas, a concealed log laid in ambush, and your foot caught upon it, sending you crashing to the ground. Panic flooded your being as your body rolled and tumbled uncontrollably, the harsh earth tearing at your skin ruthlessly. Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the torment ended in a splash as you plunged into the cold, dark depths below.

You are going to die, and you don’t fight it.

You’re so tired.

The lake seems to come alive, its depths reaching out and grasping at your body, tearing at your skin and constricting your chest with an implacable grip. The lake's sinister intentions become palpable as it seeks to consume you, to claim your essence for itself. Weary and exhausted to the core, you surrender to the lake's malevolent embrace, allowing yourself to be consumed by its fearsome hunger.

As your body instinctively craves air, the lake relentlessly smothers it, its relentless grasp stifling your every breath. Your lungs burn with desperation, and each attempt to inhale only draws in more suffocating water. The lake's relentless hands envelop your face, leaving you with no escape as it ruthlessly suppresses your very breath, depriving your body of the oxygen it so desperately needs.

As you sink deeper into the lake's abyss, a surprising sense of gratitude washes over you. Despite the circumstances leading up to this, you are thankful that this is how your life will end – not torn apart by the infected or cut down by the malevolent force that shadows the earth. As the water envelopes you completely, you find solace in the thought that this peaceful end is preferable to the horrors that awaited you on the surface.

Your mind drifts back to the events of the morning - a time when everything seemed so normal, so mundane. How innocently unsuspecting you were about the cruel fate that awaited you. Now, as you reflect, you can't help but feel a profound melancholy - you realize that that is the last time you will wake up in this world to witness the beauty of a sunrise.

The memory of the infected still pierces your mind like a sharp sword. The guttural growls, the chilling shrieks, and the rustling of leaves as they closed in on you - it all replays like an awful nightmare. Despite your abilities, you knew that taking on four infected at once was a certain death sentence. So, with sheer terror coursing through your veins, you did the only thing you could - you ran. And running is something you knew how to do brilliantly. But even the most masterful escape was not enough to save you from your impending fate.

Above the murky depths of the lake, a series of thunderous booms reverberate through the water, causing a surge of pressure that pressed against your body. You feel a mixture of hope and trepidation wash over you as you ponder whether drowning would claim you before the unknown entity reaches you. Suddenly, something hard and solid wraps around your wrist, its grip unrelenting. The shock of the contrast between the soothing water and the harshness of this newfound grasp causes you to gasp in surprise. As the solid form forcefully pulls you upwards, encircling your middle, you struggle fiercely, attempting to free yourself from its tenacious hold.

As the mysterious entity pulls relentlessly, you feel the shift in the water's demeanor - the soothing embrace transforming into a bitter, furious grip, angry at the prospect of losing its new victim. The water screams loudly in your ears, the intense pressure leaving you with a throbbing headache. The temperature plunges to near freezing, and the realization of the water's true nature sends waves of panic coursing through your body, making it increasingly difficult to stay calm and collected.

As your head breaks the surface of the water, you desperately gasp for air, yet you find yourself hacking and choking on the water still trapped within your lungs. The shock of exposure to the outside air mixed with the remnants of ingested water leaves you struggling to catch your breath, your body convulsing in protest.

The strong arms that had pulled you from the depths adjust themselves around you, seeking to hold onto the lingering vestiges of your life as they guide you back to the safety of the shoreline. As your back makes contact with the muddy ground, urgent hands swiftly push away the strands of hair from your face, gently turning you onto your side. With each subsequent cough, more and more murky lake water spills from your mouth, mixing with the damp earth that cradles your weary body.

"There you go, you're alright," The reassuring voice washes over you like a calm tide, its soothing tone wrapping around your nerves like a protective blanket. The hand rubs your back firmly, providing a solid and comforting presence as you struggle to expel the water from your lungs.

Your clothes cling to your skin, their cold and soggy embrace causing you to shiver violently. Yet as the hand gently rubs your back, you become acutely aware of the stark contrast between its warmth and the bone-chilling cold of the lake water. The sudden realization hits you - the water was never truly warm; it was merely a cruel trick, a twisted ploy to lure you into its sinister grasp.

As you struggle to turn onto your back, your head heavy and fatigue setting in, you muster the strength to look up at your savior. He sits beside you, panting heavily, his own chest rising and falling with each labored breath. Despite the frigid waters that cling to his clothes and the wet strands of hair that fall onto his face, his gaze remains focused solely on you, unwavering and intense. The hand that once firmly rubbed your back now lays beside you.

As your breathing steadily slows and your consciousness begins to fade, your thoughts turn to the one who has saved you. In that moment, he appears like an angel to you with an aura of divine intervention surrounding him. Whether he is a fallen angel or a heavenly being sent to rescue you, you care not, for the overwhelming sense of gratitude and relief washes over you, lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

You awaken to the unfamiliar feeling of harsh concrete beneath you, replacing the cold and damp mud that cradled you when you drifted off to sleep. The windows are eerily boarded up, allowing only a limited amount of light to trickle in and leaving you completely disoriented as you try to determine whether the sunlight outside indicates a sunrise or a sunset. Confusion mixes with a lingering sense of disorientation as you struggle to piece together how much time has passed while you were unconscious.

You muster the strength to push aside a hefty jacket that rests on your body, sitting up slowly and tentatively. It's not your jacket, that much is certain. The realization hits you like a wave - it must belong to the one who rescued you. As you recall the events leading up to this moment, you remember that he wasn't wearing a jacket when he pulled you out of the water. In this cold and unfamiliar environment, the jacket offers some comfort and warmth, a small lifeline to cling onto.

The dim flicker of light filtering through the boarded-up windows provides enough illumination to make out the contents of the small storage room you find yourself in. The shelves, once perhaps stocked with supplies, are now bare and covered in a thick layer of dust that speaks to years of disuse. Broken pieces of wood and metal lay scattered about on the ground, undisturbed and forgotten by time. The thick, stale air hangs in the room like a heavy pall, an ominous stillness that weighs heavily on your senses.

The quiet of the room is disrupted by a sharp huff followed by the heavy and purposeful thud of approaching footsteps. They come to a standstill just outside the closed door, and for a brief moment, there is dead silence. Suddenly, three gentle yet firm raps echo through the room, jolting you from your contemplations.

His voice breaks the silence, his words carrying a mix of both hope and concern. “You awake in there?” he calls out, his tone low and steady. After a brief pause, the door slowly creaks open, its hinges protesting the movement. His eyes sweep the room until they finally land on you, sitting in the exact spot where he left you. Relief washes over his features, his shoulders relaxing as a faint smile quirks up the corners of his mouth.

As the door swings open fully, the bright afternoon sunlight floods the room, illuminating every corner and casting harsh shadows upon the walls. Caught off guard by the sudden brightness, you instinctively raise your hands to shield your eyes, squinting as you attempt to adjust to the dazzling light.

He leans against the arch of the door nonchalantly, his arm braced against the frame in a lazy yet protective manner. He casts a watchful gaze onto you, studying you carefully as you attempt to catch a glimpse of your surroundings beyond him. His tall stature and strong build serve as an imposing yet comforting presence, casting a shadow over your seated form that shields you from the intense light streaming in from outside.

His voice breaks the silence once more, a mixture of relief and concern tinting his words. “That was some mighty cold water you found yourself in,” he says, the lingering worry evident in his tone. “Thought we were both gonna freeze” he adds, his sigh reverberating through the room. He pushes off from the arch, rising to his full height and placing himself before you, his shoulders broad and firm.

He crouches down before you, his eyes searching your face intently. As your silence lingers, he asks, “You got a name? Or am I going to have to make one up if you won't talk?” The question hangs in the air, filled with curiosity and a hint of a challenge. His gaze remains steady, patiently awaiting your response, wondering if you will finally break your silence.

You hesitate for a moment, the syllables of your name feeling unfamiliar as they roll off your tongue, having gone unspoken for so long. Finally, in a soft, tentative voice, you respond. The words are barely spoken, yet they hang in the air, carrying with them a hint of vulnerability as you offer this small piece of yourself to this stranger who has saved you.

He nods in acknowledgment, a small gesture of introduction. “Joel.” The name rolls off his tongue with a certain ease, his voice carrying both strength and warmth in equal measure. As he straightens up, his knees crack audible protest, yet he gives no sign of discomfort, perhaps used to the sensation of pain. He stands before you, a tall and steadfast presence, solid and reliable like a pillar amidst the chaos of uncertainty.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” He begins as he leans over you to retrieve his jacket. “Looks like you’ve got two options. Either stay here or I can smuggle you into Boston QZ. But I gotta move, wasted a lot of time dragging you out of that lake.”

He stands with his arms crossed over his chest, the muscles rippling under his shirtsleeves. It's a relaxed yet assertive pose, one that exudes a sense of authority and control. As he waits for your response, his eyes never leave your face, watching you intently, silently urging you to speak with a slight lift of an eyebrow.

You grapple with the decision, torn between the logical course of action and an inexplicable pull deep within you. Something within you whispers fiercely, urging you to say yes, to join this stranger named Joel. Despite the risks and uncertainties that lie ahead, the force of this invisible pull is simply too strong to resist. A flicker of something wild and untamed dances in your eyes as the answer slips past your lips.

As Joel reaches down and takes your hand firmly in his, an almost gentle strength radiates through his grip. He lifts you easily onto your feet, the warmth and solidity of his touch providing a stark contrast to the cold memories of the lake. The lake had wrapped around you like a warm embrace, flooding you with a sense of familiarity and comfort. But in this moment, the lake cannot compare to how safe Joel makes you feel in his presence.

Following closely behind him, you reflect on the events that have transpired since your encounter with Joel - how this stranger has not only rescued you from freezing waters but also taking you to the safety of a QZ. A sense of gratitude mixes with uncertainty in your thoughts, unsure of what the future holds, but trusting in Joel nonetheless.

Your thoughts turn to the false sense of safety the lake had offered you as you sank to your death, how easily it had lured you into its depths. Now, as you follow Joel out of the abandoned gas station and into the uncertain unknown, you make a silent vow to yourself. Regardless of what lies ahead, you will follow Joel for now. With each step, you cling to the hope that he will lead you toward sanctuary, and away from the shadows that seem to lurk everywhere around you.

Your mind is filled with thoughts of caution and doubt, wondering if Joel is simply leading you into a false sense of hope and security. Trust is not given lightly in this new world, and yet, you find yourself following him nonetheless, desperate for a lifeline in this sea of uncertainty. As you try to quell the unease in your heart, you silently hope that Joel's intentions are sincere, and that he will provide the protection and guidance that you so desperately need.

notes

i’m back from the dead. haven’t sat down and written anything for a while, stardew valley took over my life for a little bit there and then my wifi broke.

don’t really know what this is, but i felt like writing it. just a moment, nothing too long or short. no smut or fluff really, just an interaction and the start of a new life.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel fanfic #joel miller fanfic #joel x fem!reader

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casually-salad · 4 months ago

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cutie pox chronicles, full master-post.

welcome to my sick and twisted world.. everything will be found below.

so firstly! i know theres a couple people coming from off tumblr sites to check this out (( hi jay!!! )) so ill explain somethin real quick!

All of my comics have hand written text! now sometimes these can be hard to read, and so if you press this button ( image below ) and ive wrote out all the text in there for your convenience! make sure as well to read the body of the post and also the tags! usually i have some post upload thoughts or feelings i talk about there - some add context and some are fun!

normally i would recommend going through my archive and searching for "mlp infection au" or "cutie pox chronicles" but you wont have to do that here - but for nontumblr users if you want to check out other blogs i recommend that method.

now before reading there is a massive trigger warning: on all posts with these topics everything is tagged as "tw (topic)" and so i would recommend blocklisting ones that make you uncomfortable or understand what youre going into! triggering contents include: blood, gore, body horror, eye horror and eye trauma, child death, dismemberment, and cannibalism.

now! all posts will be in upload order, liked here with the title and the in story date ( as it changes. ) as well as which posts are single images and which ones are comics. when looking at stat sheets, the more full the better! 0% - or empty health is death, and 0%- or empty, composure is maina. alright!!!!! here we gooooo!!

The Cutie Pox. (day 0) comic

stat sheets ( day 1 ) comic?

Lillys last cutiemark. - single

first sightings -single

first nights out. - comic

how far away does a home stray? - single

lillys last mark - comic

the everfree - single

from hell and back - comic (day 0)

imbalance - comic (day 2)

finding the spark - comic

moon dancers melancholy part 1 - comic

moon dancer sheet - single

fleeting feelings - comic

helping hoof..? - comic

moon dancers melancholy part 2 - comic

freezerburnt - comic

fleeting calmness - comic ( day 3 )

dreams fall hard today - comic

princesses stat sheets - comic?

wilting lilly - comic

youre going to live with that guilt - comic

home - home again. - comic ( day 4 )

hurt everywhere you go part 1 - comic

bracing for impact ( hurt everywhere you go part 2) - comic

get well - comic

fly free canary. - comic

getting worse - comic

a storm on the horizon- comic (day 5 )

CLOSING THOUGHTS:

i really never thought this comic would get me as far as it did, seince i started posting i went from having 100 followers to about 210, thats more than double! thats insane. i wont lie i am SOOOO ANXIOUS to have such a following!!!!! usually my posts prior wouldnt get more than 5 notes but now!! almost all of them ( at least of this comic ) have over 30 on every one!!! thats just, so crazy. i hope everyone continues to look forward as i begin preparation on chapter 2, and what else i have to offer on here - i have a whole lot more story to tell and im excited to!

#mlp #my little pony #mlp infection au #cutie pox chronicles

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therealmintedmango · 14 days ago

Text

Cerberus - Part Four

Genre: Werewolf/ Shifter AU; Medieval AU; Strangers-To-Lovers AU; Heavy Angst; Soulmate AU; Eventual Romance/ Smut

Rating: NC 18+, Explicit

Words: 8,746

Pairings: (Eventually) ot7 BTS x Human Female Reader

Warnings: Dark themes; Yandere Vibes; Blood; Death; Gore; Murder/ Killing; Dark Dreams; Non-consensual touching/being touched without consent; Men who pray on women when they are vulnerable

Tag List: (Please notify me if you wish to be added/ no longer want to be apart of the tag list!) @openup-yourmind, @deeepvibes, @xxsunny-side-upxx, @heoniebaby @applelovesposts, (Sorry I've I've missed anyone! It's been awhile!)

Cerberus Playlist — Apple Music (Let me know if you have a good song to add to the playlist and I’ll chuck it in there!)

A frightened yell ripped through the large estate, shattering the peaceful, quiet evening like fragile glass thrown against a wall. The blood-curdling scream stopped all the brothers in their mundane tracks for the evening while they all were sitting in the parlor.

Taehyung flicked his paintbrush down on his wooden easel, flecks of green splattering across his canvas, a deep growl of confusion emitting from his throat. Hoseok snapped the book he was reading about hunting large game animals closed, eyes narrowing at the harrowing sound. An awful sour tone rang out, Yoongi’s long fingers slammed on the ivory keys of the piano as he stood abruptly.

A beat of silence ticked, stretching between the princes’, as realization set in.

“Little bird!” Seokjin yelped as he leapt from the news docket and the glass of brandy he was nursing all evening.

They take off into the house like dogs deep in the thick of the hunt. Their legs pushing into the carpet and marble of the home, scrambling for purchase against the ground. Snarls, whimpers, and growls echoed in the mansion as the brothers seemingly moved as one, thundering through their halls. The wolf-boys arms pushing them faster as their nails rake across wooden walls, shredding banisters in their wake. They feel like time is slowing, the clock is the enemy, pushing them back from the only thing they’ve cared about in what feels like ages.

In reality, they move like a flurry of hungry, wild beasts. The wolf brothers fly through their home with quick, superhuman strength. Worry and fright heighten their senses, a kaleidoscope of emotions changing every few milliseconds.

They needed to get to her. They needed to race her. They yipped and groaned, pushing, clawing their way to her room. Their wolf blood pulsing and flowing with fear scorching through their human forms.

Nails grew from deep within their human skin. Lips lifted, exposing their gleaming canines and bright pink gums as her room came into view. The prince’s wolf bodies rippled against the soft flesh of their mortal forms. The feral, wild hounds that they really are were threatening to escape as snarls and low growls toppled from their throats.

Malice, violence, something benevolent they all think as they enter her room unannounced. They wanted to choke, maim, take pleasure in killing something that would hurt her…Make her scream like that.

Seokjin enters first, throwing the wooden doors open. Normally he would knock but he hasn’t a clear thought, wanting to know what or who could have made their little bird react the way she did.

It’s eerie and quiet inside the guest living quarters.

The younger princes’ enter next. They pant, shake and sputter, drinking in the smell of sharp terror that hangs heavy in the air of her lavish room. The fire in the hearth is out, moonlight pools through her windows creating a dim glow to cascade across the room…Their mate is passed out in a cold sweat in her bed…

And their youngest brother was in the corner of their room looking utterly ashamed.

A gust of melancholy October wind hit the house, the fallen leaves rustling on the ground and in the trees outside. The windows rattled, the panes shuttered against the cold breeze howling against the walls of the mansion. Silence coated the room, hanging in the still air was the chill of fear from their mate and the scent of shame wafting from Jungkook.

It took the wolf-boys a beat longer until it finally clicked.

“What is wrong with you, Jungkook?” Seokjin remarks, lips peeling back, white teeth bared at the youngest brother. Rage flashing across his amber eyes. “Revealing your wolf form to her?”

“She was having a bad dream, hyung.” Jungkook sheepishly responded, shaking his head back and forth. “I wanted to be there for her when she woke up.” He bit his lip as he grabbed his cloak, covering his naked form. “She was terrified, hyung. I could smell it through the walls.”

“Poor thing.” Hoseok cooed as he placed a cool hand across her blazing forehead. His amber eyes roamed over her still face, drinking in every inch of her flushed flesh. Her hair pooled around her head on her pillow, wrapping herself in a halo of strands and tresses. Hoseok’s nostrils flared as his eyes reached her slightly parted mouth; her split lip she arrived with was almost completely healed.

How badly did Hoseok wish to press his lips into hers...

“What if she died on the spot, Jungkook?” Taehyung asked, standing next to Hoseok, watching her attentively. His voice shook with concern, his thick brows furrowed as he studied her like a beautiful painting. “She looks like she has seen a spirit!”

“I-I used my magic on her to make her forget seeing me and go back to sleep.” Jungkook then admitted in a soft, small voice.

Seokjin gasped softly.

Another egregious sin they were not supposed to use upon the poor mortal kind. Using their werewolf powers on a regular human was quite shameful. That was something that the creatures beyond the veil would do, nay, not the brothers that rule Bangtan.

“Magic?” Seokjin snapped and Hoseok yelped at the same time, sharing a look of anger and dismay, respectfully.

Yoongi heaved a heavy sigh, collapsing into a purple velvet armchair by the hearth of her fireplace. The second eldest licked the edges of his mouth, running his long fingers through his white hair in a defeated manner. “Jungkook, we cannot shift in the mansion. You know how we all feel about this.”

Jungkook couldn’t meet his older brother's amber glare. “I know, hyung. I just—“

Without even looking at him, Taehyung and Yoongi both emitted low, warning growls, their voices deep and huskiest of the brothers. It was quite a scary duo to witness. Jungkook froze, his amber eyes sliding to the ground in obedience.

Pack order, as well as family dynamic, was something that was established, but changed from time to time. In this room right now, the order was Yoongi, Seokjin, Hoseok, Taehyung, then Jungkook. When all the princes were together, the order was usually eldest to youngest, though that was challenged by Taehyung and Namjoon often. However, Seokjin never failed to be at the top of the pecking order normally due to his birthright.

“No ‘hyung’ this or that.” Yoongi snarled, head hanging as he rested his elbows on the tops of his thighs, speaking directly to the cold ground beneath his feet. “You shifted…then got scared when she screamed at the sight of your wolf form, so you made her pass back out with your magic!” He got up then, pounded over to the youngest brother and single handedly picked Jungkook up off the floor by his robes. “Why were you in her room in the first place, huh?” The second eldest’s eyes were ablaze, fury seeping out of his pores as he searched the youngest’s own fearful orbs.

Yoongi had already reprimanded Namjoon today. Tensions were on high alert today because of that. He was so fond of all his kin, he hated being the villain, the bad part about their day. Seokjin and himself very much had to play parent because theirs have since passed.

“I’m going utterly insane, hyung…” Was all Jungkook could muster before Yoongi let out another deep sigh, his free hand rifling through his white locks.

“I know.” Yoongi admitted, releasing him gently. Yoongi agreed, solemnly nodding, the fire extinguishing from his words and his sunset colored eyes. His gaze traveled to the lovely young lady in their guest room who they worshipped the ground she walked on. His nostrils flared, “We all are, Jungkook…we all are.”

———-

Soft, featherlight touches upon my cheek roused me from my slumber. Though I remember fainting, I cannot recall why that occurred. Blinking slowly, I opened my eyes only to see rich amber-coloured orbs peering down at me in the flickering candlelight. Pushing the sheets away, I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my weary eyes. I wasn’t fully awake nor was I registering who was in my room with me in this present moment. The air around me was thick, laced with anticipation and it smelt of fresh linen and morning dew. I stopped moving at once and drank in the human sitting opposite of myself.

Prince Jungkook.

My mind started to race with questions. Why was he here? In my room? What time was it? His eyes widened as I stared at him. “Little bird-“

“Prince Jungkook.” I clutch the sheets to cover my chest, my cheeks flushing a bright red hue. Jungkook looked completely sheepish as an innocent gleam flashing across his amber eyes. “W-What are you doing here?”

“I beg your pardon, my lady.” He sheepishly looked down and away from me. “One of the hunting dogs became loose in the castle, found its way into your room and gave you quite a scare.… I think.” The youngest prince runs a hand through his curly, richly-colored locks, sliding his palm down to stroke the side of his neck. “I do not wish to frighten you or have you think ill of me, as I know a young lady should never be unattended without a chaperone…” Jungkook turns the complete opposite direction of me, looking toward the foot of the bed. “It was my turn to put the hounds away and I utterly failed.” Jungkook solemnly looks out the window, his tone grim. “I’m deeply sorry, Y/N.”

My heart cracks into little pieces.

Prince Jungkook reminds me of my brother Chan at this moment. So sweet and earnest, never truly meaning to harm anyone, a wash of teasing in his tone. He was all but sass and silliness, but he would never bite--lest not bite me.

My stomach lurches at the memory of my brother.

I lightly touch Jungkook’s shoulder to steady my spiraling thoughts of my family I left not long ago. I lean into the young prince and whisper, “Do not feel ashamed, Prince Jungkook.” He whips his head back around to look at me with his bright, amber eyes. His lips part while his eyes appear glassy in the soft glow from the morning light flickering through the sheer curtains.

Prince Jungkook opens and closes his mouth several times, reminiscent of a fish gasping for air once plucked from water. His amber eyes flit from my own eyes to my extended hand on his shoulder. Jungkook suddenly clears his throat and gets up off my bed in a fluid movement. He bows deeply and silently exits my room in the blink of an eye.

And like the breathing out of a candle, he is gone in an instant.

I look to the end of the bed, a small shudder skates down my spine, a chill of ice flows through my veins, my teeth chatter. That hound from last night was utterly frightening. Its glowing eyes, its huge body, curled up by my feet…I can still feel its eyes upon me, raking over my flesh as if it was cognizant, searching my features as if it was a real person…

“That’s impossible…” I whisper to myself, pulling the covers up over myself, turning to the other side of the plush bed. “A hound cannot possibly be a person!” A chuckle leaves my lips as I nod into my pillow, rationalizing that magic isn’t real and I should probably see a doctor before someone claims I am mad. “What utter nonsense.”

“You' been having bad dreams, Miss?” Sophia asks me, worry clouding her features as she helps me get ready for the day. Lacy, Sophia’s sister, braids the other side of my hair, twisting and folding my locks to look perfect. This is the trend for young girls my age right now--or so they tell me.

“A few,” I sheepishly admit, shrugging my shoulders. “Can you tell?”

“Jus’ look like you’ seen a ghost, tis’ all.” Lacy worries her brow as she works on the other side of my locks, preparing me for the day. “Tis’ the time of year for goblins and demons and other creatures from the realm below to run amuck on Earth.”

A small snort leaves my nostrils. “You two don’t believe that,” I say as I study them in the mirror behind me, “...Do you?” They share a look behind me, adding the finishing touches to my hair with their long, hard working hands. My heart sinks into the pit of my empty stomach. I know that sibling look.

They know something I do not.

“You’ feel it right, Miss?” Lacy whispers, stepping back, gathering her skirts as she turns and walks out the door. “This time of the year especially.”

“There are strange things that happen ere’ every day, Miss.” Sophia nods, doing the same as her sister. “But this time of year…” She trails off, looking at the portrait of the prince’s with amber eyes, “is dangerous…even for people they consider family.” She whips around suddenly, throwing me a cautious, soft smile.“Best keep a watchful gaze in front as well as behind you during this time of year, Miss.”

The door announces it is shut with a small click and I am all alone in this big, wide room.

I look at the painting she was giving the oddest glance at. Sophia was wistful, yet apprehensive in her stare which was odd for her. Lacy and Sophia were usually very warm(and a little neurotic), but maybe they heard me scream last night and I spooked them with some local superstition or something? I get up from the vanity to study the painting a little closer, moving to stand in front of the hearth, looking at the enormous canvas stretched almost the eternity of the wall. The prince’s golden eyes shine and sparkle under the warm morning glow that hits the painting perfectly. They all look so regal, so handsome and yet, so mysterious at the same time, hanging over the hearth just so.

Something catches my eye. My gaze narrows, squinting as I see the tiny, orange and black butterfly in the corner of the painting.

I slowly realize as a thought fills my mind, my eyes widening. “...Just like the one I saw in the garden-”

A knock sounds at my door. “Little Bird?” Prince Hoseok’s voice filters through the wood, startling me from my thoughts.

“Y-Yes?” I stammer, collecting my dress in my fists to move to the door quicker. “Yes, Prince Hoseok?” I ask, opening the wooden frame with a small smile on my lips.

“Good morning, Little Bird.” The cheery, red-headed prince, bowing slightly. He was already dressed to the nines in his gray wool day suit. The princes’ all dressed handsomely, but I do have a thought that Hoseok and Taehyung sport the most trendy and interesting colors and pieces out of all the princes. “I hope I am not disturbing you, but Jungkook informed us of the-” he pauses, looking for the correct word, his amber eyes roaming my face as he does so. “-incident that occurred last evening.” His eyes seem to flash with acute anger for a split second. “We have all come to the conclusion that we would not want you to be unaccompanied today, if that is quite alright with you?”

His hand extends to mine and I take it almost right away, leaving the comfort of my room.

“Good girl,” Hoseok purrs softly so only I can hear as he loops my arm to intertwine with his. A jolt of lighting rushes to my nether region and I know my eyes expand at the feeling. That has never happened to me before. It excited me, however, it also made me feel a small speck of terror stewing in my guts. “Right-o! Shall we?” He happily carried on as if I wasn't going through an internal crisis at this very moment.

“Ye-yes.” I squeak.

Hoseok began to walk me down to the dinning hall, the smells of breakfast wafting through the mansion. The prince quipped to me about how he wanted to dance with me right away at the ball as it was one of his favorite activities after hunting.

Once Prince Hoseok and I stepped down onto the main floor from the grand staircase, the large house seemingly exploded with a flurry of hurry and mild panic. Maids and butlers ran to and fro, the service staff were almost fully complete with their ritual of turning the lavish home into one of pure royalty and splendor. One day more and the Harvest Moon Ball shall be hosted in the Bangtan Castle. Everyone has been in such a state of hustle and bustle, it was making me a little dizzy watching them shuffle around the marbled floor!

The staff look like worker bees, buzzing about the hive, making it the most spectacular ball I have ever laid my eyes upon. Which might not be saying much as my father never threw such parties and gatherings. He hated that sort of frivolity.

I thought of my beautiful dress Prince Seokjin had carefully crafted for me and sighed. “I am very delighted I can take part in the ball tomorrow.” I said as beautiful flowers from Jimin’s garden came through in huge golden vases by the tens of hundreds. The fragrant, colorful plumages needed two or more gentlemen of the Bangtan kingdom staff to carry them as the ornate containers appeared rather cumbersome to tout around.

A wolfish grin spread across Hoseok’s face and he watched her with hungry, ravenous eyes while she took in the wealth and glamor that they have worked tirelessly to transform their den into. “We are too, Little Bird…We are too.”

Breakfast was simple: sweet fruit, perfectly cooked porridge, crispy bacon, and fluffy eggs. The options were less plentiful then when I first arrived, but I imagine the staff very obviously had their hands full and they were busy attending and preparing other facets of the mansion. And rightfully so. A ball seems like it takes weeks, if not months, to prepare for.

And now I am an extra burden for the brothers to shoulder.

I must give them my thanks tomorrow. I did not have a lot to give them nor do I believe they are hurting or could ever want anything more. They live a comfortable life, or so it seems. I ponder as I chew my food all the ways that I could thank them as only Hoseok and Seokjin eat beside me. All the other brothers had their hands full with the impending ball happening tomorrow eve.

I scanned the table as I watched the two princes nourish themselves for the day. Seokjin ate slowly as he read the news docket, his amber eyes roaming row by row, drinking in what he was reading. Hoseok scooped porridge into his mouth quickly and snatched more bacon off his plate, wolfing down his meal as it would be his last. He didn’t eat like a child or like a brute, he just consumed his meal with haste and less tack than his oldest brother.

It was peaceful. Even with so much movement happening throughout the castle, the dining hall was calm, the demeanor of the room was quite content. I am happy I think to myself, basking in the glow of autumn sun pouring in from the windows. I inhale deeply as I set my teacup down which earns me glances from both princes.

“Everything alright, Little Bird?” Seokjin simpered, amber eyes gazing at me over the black and white folded paper.

“Oh, yes, indeed!” I exclaim as the dining staff start clearing away the fine china in front of me. “I was just thinking about how content and happy I am.” I smile at him and Hoseok at the head of the table. “It is the first time I have felt like this in a long while.”

They both smile with warmth and adoration. The prince's grins are genuine, which made my own smile spread across my lips. A thought from this morning crossed my mind and I uttered the question without thinking. “I have a question, if you both don’t mind?”

They nod in tandem, Hoseok finishing the food on his plate finally. Seokjin folded the docket and set it down on the table beside his teacup.

“Well, uh-” Nervousness flooded through me, their bright eyes watching me with anticipation made my heart skip a beat. “I was studying the lovely portrait of you all in my room. And I couldn’t help but notice a small butterfly in the corner like a signature an artist gives…” Their faces fell as I continued. “And I saw a monarch butterfly in the garden and wanted to know, I suppose, if your family has a connection to butterflies in some manner?”

“You what?” Hoseok choked, panicked in his query as he coughed and beat his chest with vigor.

“Are you sure you saw a butterfly?” Seokjin asked me in alarm as he stood from his seat. “An orange and black butterfly?”

I became puzzled. “Ye-Yes?” I questioned, glancing between the two brothers as they stare at me with shock, worry coloring their handsome features.

“We do not have butterflies in Bangtan.” Seokjin spoke in a grave manner, approaching me with slow steps. His golden, amber eyes were the size of dinner saucers, looking down at me. I have never seen him behave in such a way. I fear I have said the wrong thing at the wrong time, shattering the peaceful and tranquil morning in the dining hall with my stupid question.

I spoil everything.

“They are a bad omen here,” Hoseok stood, walking over to join Seokjin, staring grimly into my orbs. I have rarely seen Hoseok not smile and it was a sight I wished not to see again. His smile was one of my favorite things about him. “Butterflies are the harbingers of death and destruction.”

An eerie feeling like I was being watched spread across my body, just like in the garden, causing a shiver to climb its way down my spine. I fret I truly made a mistake bringing this up to the princes. My raw questioning and curiosity has gotten the better of me once more. I felt like this was a rabbit hole I did not want to dig around in, lest I fall in.

BAM!

“Seokjin-hyung! Hobi-hyung!” Jimin cried, flying through the dining hall door, worry and terror clouding his pale face as he puffed, out of breath, “He is here early!”

I whip around behind me to the cause of the noise and see the silver-locked prince shaking. He appeared disheveled in his haste to get to the dining hall as quick as a crack of lightning. Jimin’s always perfect hair was out of place, his breathing labored, and his legs wobbled as he scrambled for purchase, for support on the wooden door.

A low rumble leaves Hoseok’s throat now as he stands behind me. “How?” He hisses out through gritted teeth, his hot breath tickling the top of my braided locks.

“Are you certain?” Seokjin asks, all niceties gone from his tone.

“P-Positive, hyung.” Jimin clamored, knees buckling as he fell to the ground in a heap. Prince Jimin was as still as a statue then. No movement came from his lump of a body on the floor.

I lurch forward, my arms extending in concern toward the silver -haired prince on the ground. I was still, not daring to move as two strong, mighty hands held me back, gripping both shoulders so I could not move.

“Who is here?” I question in a whisper, not daring to move. The situation was dire it seemed. Jimin needed assistance, a mysterious guest had appeared and butterflies were quite a sore subject in the kingdom of Bangtan.

My peaceful morning was no more.

My ears perked at a hearty laugh that suddenly echoed through the halls. All the commotion happening in the halls seemed to die out, like the flame of a candle being snuffed out. Time was slowing, melting around me as if I was trapped in molasses. A cold shiver radiated through my body making me rigid. My back burned but I still dare not move a muscle, still in the confines of the two prince’s grasp.

A black-gloved hand pushed through the frame of the door Jimin was slumped in front of. The two men behind me inhaled, holding their breath as the easement produced a man in orange and black riding leathers standing before us. The air was tense as this mysterious stranger floated through the door as if he owned the wind he strode through.

“Is this how you treat an esteemed guest?” His voice had an accent to it, definitely not from your kingdom or the one you’ve stumbled into. “And right before the ball too?” He grinned a devilish gleam as he made his way over to the three of you, which you all were as still as statues.

He flicked a strand of curly, dark brown hair back away from his face, his warm, chocolate gaze was locked onto the men behind you. This man was handsome. The type of man that would make women swoon and make men jealous. He was neither too large nor too short. He was neither too feminine nor too masculine looking. This stranger was a nearly perfect man, seemingly sculpted, handmade from the gods.

Though, you couldn’t help but think the princes’ would be the ideal personalities you’d like to be courted by...as if that would ever happen to someone like you…but, maybe one day.

Prince Seokjin and Hoseok were utterly quiet as this man fluidly strode toward the three of you.

“Thank you so much for the snack after the long journey.” The stranger continued, surveying the beautifully ornate dining hall. “Next time could you provide me with a virgin, you know how much I prefer them over--”

“Chris.” Seokjin practically snarled, disdain rolling off his tongue. “Why are you here?”

The man shrugged, his riding leathers crinkling, cracking the tense air around the lot of you. “You didn’t get my RSVP?” This Chris fellow tilted his head, smiling as he did so. “My creature said it found someone in the garden.”

“You. Are. Early.” Prince Seokjin said, ice dripping with every syllable he uttered. The Prince gripping my shoulder tightly glazed over Chris’s question. “Today is not a good day.”

“And you are uninvited until tomorrow.” Prince Hoseok growled over my other shoulder.

“Gentlemen, please.” Chris chuckled, plucking a strawberry from the tray of colorful fruit, examining it in his long fingers. “My brothers and I came to spend an evening with you, for old times sake.” His brown orbs glow red in the sunlight hitting his face in the dining hall windows.

“We do not have time to entertain guests until tomorrow, good sir. I suggest you leave.” I blurt out. I jump with the sound of my voice, startling myself.

I blush, flushing a crimson color I am sure, and look to the floor immediately. “We” I said...I do not truly live here. I am nothing more than a visitor here. What gives me the right, the gall, to say any of this at all?

“Is this your ward I’ve been hearing about?” Chris said, bending so our eyes could meet. “My, you are a pretty thing, aren’t you?” His nostrils expanded as he leaned down to stare into my orbs. At this angle they look ravenous, mad with desire or hunger…I cannot tell the difference nor do I wish to dwell upon the thought any longer. “Now, this is the type of snack, nay, meal I’ve been hunting for.”

My brows furrow as Chris’s devilishly playful grin deepens.

“Christopher Bangchan.” Prince Namjoon’s deep timbre cuts through the tense air. He helps pull prince Jimin to his feet as he comes-to. The silver-haired prince grabs his face in his hands, groaning like he just woke up from a long, restful slumber. “Let us talk in the parlor or library, perhaps. That way we do not disturb our ward any further.” Namjoon grins, dimples popping out of his cheeks and I swear I think swoon every time he so much as smirks at me. “Now, shall we? We have much to catch up on.” He steadies his younger brother like nothing even happened, righting him upright to his feet with a few pats on the back.

Jimin stands on his own two feet, however they wobble like a newborn calf. The prince finds the nearest chair and slumps over in it, giving a slight moan of pain as he does so.

I find Prince Namjoon’s amber-colored orbs and hope he can feel my many words of thanks and cunning praise I am sending him with my gaze. He gives a small wink in my direction, turning his back to the group of us and exits the dining hall. Christopher retreats with a salacious grin upon his face, gliding to follow behind silently.

A chill runs up my spine as his orbs flash red for a split second before he fully vanishes from view.

Another wash of awkward silence ticks, time seems to come back into focus for me. Birds chirp and chatter outside the windows, the staff chatter amongst themselves as they are hard at work preparing for the ball tomorrow. The world begins to spin again and I feel like I am coming out of a year-long slumber.

What an odd fellow. I think as I exhale a deep breath I never even realized I was holding. I shall try and stay clear of him tomorrow.

“Y/N…” Hoseok says, spinning me around. A large smile sat upon his face, gazing at me with so much adoration. “You can be quite the powder keg, can’t cha’?”

“My little bird.” Prince Seokjin strokes the side of my cheek with the back of his long, comforting hands. He looks at me with his kind, rich eyes. “Well done.”

I smile wide, grinning from ear to ear. I don’t know that talking rudely out of turn was deserving of so much praise, but nonetheless, I am happy once more. I am content with these brothers I have come to live with.

“But, please Little Bird…” Prince Seokjin furrows his brow, his smile slightly falling. “Please do not go anywhere unaccompanied without one of us from now on.” I’m sure I give him quite the puzzled expression as he continues. “The Harvest Moon Ball, while magnificent and splendid as it is, also brings with it some…unsavory characters to the castle. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“Good.” He claps his hands. “Wonderful, wonderful, yes.” Prince Seokjin nods back to me. “Now, let us go fetch some things I need in town. I believe they should all be finished.”

“What about Prince Jimin?” I ponder, giving his brother a worrying glance. “Is he quite alright?”

“I have got him.” Hoseok exclaimed, walking over to the silver-haired prince and ruffled his hair about. “You two make sure the ball will be fantastic for tomorrow. I’ll manage things here.”

“Marvelous!” Seokjin took my hand in his and led me to the door as footmen rushed and worked to dress the oldest prince in his outside attire. “We have much to do in town, Y/N. Much to do, yes.”

There must have been an accident in the kitchen or maybe with a decoration? Several staff members were mopping and cleaning a giant spot of dark-colored liquid near the door. They always work so hard, I hope the princes give them enough time off. And especially after the Harvest Moon Ball. The substance was both liquid and gooey at the same moment; chunks of possible beef or pork were being scooped up with haste, the castle staff meticulously restoring the ground of the threshold of the grand entrance way. Did one of the staff drop a stew of beef on accident?

“Shall we wait for Paisley?” Another query finds my lips as we walk outside to the gleaming black carriage that was getting ready to go into town for the day. Two beautiful tawny work horses snorted, stamping their feet onto the ground, their hooves large and heavy in the mid-morning light. I noticed Jongbak was nowhere to be seen on this morning either, which was rather odd. He would do everything in his power to be in the presence of Paisley.

Seokjin paused, stilling his movements as a footman opened the door for both the prince and I. He was a few steps in front of me and I felt his aura darken with my question. My heart was beating wildly, trapped behind my sternum. I haven’t seen Paisley this morning…or come to think of it, last night Sophia and Lacy have been attending to me. They often rotated in their care of me, but it was not normal to go this long without seeing my friend.

“I am sorry that I didn’t inform you earlier,” Prince Seokjin walked to the carriage door, spinning on his heel, holding out his hand to assist me into the carriage. “Paisley is no longer with us.”

A small gasp climbs from my throat, my eyes widening with surprise. “You mean she left? She no longer works in the castle?” I find his gloved hand in mine as I step closer to the carriage door. He helps me climb into the wheeled device, seating on the other side of me as Sophia silently follows, sitting next to me with a grim expression on her face.

Seokjin shakes his head, a sheepish smile springing up upon his pillowy lips. “I’m afraid not, Little Bird…I’m afraid not.”

“Do you know where she went off to?” I query further. “I will miss her so!” Growing up with brothers was fantastic and I wouldn’t change it for the world, but in recent weeks I have grown close to Paisley, considering her akin to a sister to me. I felt utterly shameful. I didn't know she was planning to leave Bangtan Castle. I would have done everything in my power to make her stay.

Prince Seokjin shakes his head, his rich locks swaying with him as the carriage begins to move. “She didn’t say anything except I know she went somewhere far, far away.”

Riding into town, it was exceedingly calm and quiet today, which is out of the norm. Usually the village is swimming with life. Everyone outside, the shops full, restaurants buzzing with customers, the park always packed with lovely couples and families playing. The weather was not a deterrent as it was indeed chilly, but altogether sunny. I’d be remiss not to say that it was a beautiful autumn day!

Seokjin visited the butcher, which he told me was no place for a lady, so the Prince had me wait in the coach. Footmen carried crates full of items in glass, storing them above and below the carriage. I wished to know more about what was in the containers, but I held my tongue.

I had enough outbursts and speaking out of turn for the day, I thought.

Next, the carriage strode to an apothecary where Prince Seokjin let me pick a delightful, sweet yet mild tea. He said he was very fond of my choice. We received bundles of dried herbs, containers of what looked to be sludge, and colorful powders in vials. The prince paid the apothecary a hefty sum, a sack of coins exchanged for these small items seemed like the shopkeeper was ripping Seokjin off, but, no haggling was made, so I said not a word.

We stopped for tea and sandwiches in a restaurant which was inside of an enormous green house located in the heart of the town. Fragrant flowers, leafy green vines, and tall tropical plants inhabited the glass dome. The air was warm and the atmosphere was relaxing as we made polite conversation. There were only a small handful of other patrons in the dining hall, making it feel as if I was shouting to the prince sitting across the table from me.

“Y/N.” Seokjin addressing me by my name made my cheeks flush. I do hope he doesn’t notice, I shall just play it off if he does! The warm air in the greenhouse must be affecting me so! “Are you most excited for tomorrow's event?” Seokjin queried, finishing his meaty sandwich.

I nod, wiping my mouth with the edge of my napkin. “Indeed.” I smile at him. “I am most looking forward to wearing my sparkling, glittering gown Madam Hwasa has created for me in little-to-no time. My mind wanders away from itself as it thinks of the dressmaker pointing to the middle of my back, to the small, bird wings-like birthmark I’ve carried with me since I came into this world.

“I do hope you save me a dance, Little Bird.” Prince Seokjin purs, looking at me with a glimmer of desire in his eyes. I am sure my cheeks have only grown more pink by the minute. My fleshy center in between my legs jolts with electricity and I blink rapidly, trying to think about morphing away from my ever changing thoughts. “...Possibly two dances?”

I melt at his velvety, swoon-worthy words. “Y-Yes, of course.” I stammer.

“Good.” A wolfish grin spreads across the prince’s face. His amber eyes glint as he lightly touches the top of my hand. “Very good.

“Why the fuck are you here early, Chris?” Hoseok thunders, throwing the wooden library doors open. His amber orbs flash red, anger seething out of every pore. “Who invited you in?”

“The cute little maid with the freckles.” Chris stated, a coy smile on his lips. “She was quite the snack.” Chris smuggly looks over his glass of brandy. The outsider was sitting on the red velvet couch in the library, looking comfortable in his orange and black riding leathers.

“Monster.” Yoongi’s deep timbre growled, baring his pearly canine teeth. The brothers, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook, all stood facing the man adjacent to them, scowls on their faces, brows knit in frustration.

“Come now,” Chris chidded as Hoseok strode across the room, standing in the menacing line with his wolf brethren. “We cannot help what we are. You all should understand better than mortals, no?”

“There is a contract in place. You cannot harm one of our staff during the ball.” Namjoon frankly states.

“But, it is not quite time for the ball, now--is it?” Chris snickers.

“You never sent a calling card, which is something you are supposed to do as well.” Jungkook folds his arms across his chest, a loathsome attitude souring the merriment of today.

Chris gives a fake gasp, putting his free hand across his smirking mouth. “I did,” he said, feigning innocence, “my butterfly said someone saw it who lives in the castle.” He shrugs. “I thought you boys knew.”

“Y/N saw it, but she didn’t know it was one of your…creatures.” Hoseok sneered down at the man sitting down, sipping his brandy casually.

Yoongi slams his hands on the coffee table, splintering the wood on the cherry-wood table, sending pieces flying. Spittle flies from Yoongi’s peeled back lips, snarls erupting from his throat. “You are not welcome here this evening.” Prince Yoongi decides, the collection of wolf-men nod their heads in agreement.

“Tell me about your ward.” Chris chuckles, his accent coming out in full force now that he is becoming more comfortable, ignoring the question. “She is awfully pretty.” The wolf-brothers snarl, feral noises emitting from their lips. “Keeping her all to yourselves, huh?”

“Don’t. You. Dare. Think. About. It.” Jungkook riles, enunciating his words with dark, animalistic noises. His wolf form rippling under his human skin, threatening to burst free.

“Once you finish your drink, you need to leave.” Hoseok snaps. A darkened look glazing across his usually happy-go-lucky features.

A small snort leaves the stranger’s nostrils. “You haven’t marked your territory very well, boys.” Chris takes a small sip of his brown colored alcohol. “Anyone, or anything, could gobble her right up.”

“I’m going to get my hunting rifle.” Hoseok angrily says as he spins on his heel to retreat out of the library.

“I’ll go with you.” Namjoon agrees, his lip lifted in disgust.

“Alright, alright.” Chris stands, draining the last drops of the strong drink from his glass. “I know when I’m not wanted.” He stretches, smiling as his fangs poking out from his top lip, smiling at the angry group of wolf-men. He makes his way to the window, climbing through the frame, and disappearing into the daylight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” His words echo in the library.

Hoseok lets out a wild howl, informing the pack what just happened here and who they need to watch out for.

The next day, I was told I should keep to the guest room as the princely brothers were very busy preparing for the ball happening this evening.

I was rather confused as to why. Did they not wish me at their side all the morrow? Do the princes not deem me fit to be in my company? Do the princes of Bangtan wish me not good enough company? Do they loathe me now for speaking out of turn yesterday?

In these moments, I deeply missed my brothers. I fear I would never be a solitary creature, preferring the company of many over being alone. I craved their smiling faces, their boisterous laughs, the way they teased me so.

I wondered about why I was in solitary confinement all morning while I ate breakfast of buttered toast, sausage, and eggs. My mind raced as I read through the latest news docket, my eyes scanning other the black and white text, never actually reading anything. I pondered as I was scrubbed from head to toe, being rubbed raw as if I was poultry, going to be prepared to be eaten as the ball later. Thoughts of confusion were all that hovered in my brain all morning and afternoon.

I couldn’t concentrate on anything. My mind is springing back and forth like a ball on a wire. And to top it off, my two attendants were no help to my restless mood.

Sophia and Lacy flit and flounce about the guest room, rushing in and out all day. They brought me breakfast, the news docket, and all other petty gossip that was brought up from downstairs. The women are usually on edge, but I have never seen the sisters in such an anxious state.

This just added to the tense air of the guest room, making me feel desperate to leave. I felt like a trapped, caged animal in this wide room the princes have provided for me. I felt both ungrateful and agitated with the same thought. I am grateful I have a place to live, a home that has welcomed me even though I am a complete stranger. However, I am rather displeased because they are telling me I need to be shut up in my room all day, never getting to help or see what the ball will look like. I felt as if I was in my role of little sister once more, being told what I can and couldn’t do. I feel like these thoughts were unfair, but true at the same time.

The only moments I was allowed some respite from my whirling thoughts and oppression room was when I needed to relieve myself.

Staring at myself in the mirror of a cold, private bathroom on the second floor where the guest room I stay in resides, I wonder why the princes have shut me out this morning. My brow wrinkles and I raise an arm to the ceiling, turning my head to my armpit. No, I don’t suppose I smell, but perhaps one's own smell doesn’t affect themselves?

I look rather odd, I think, clothed in a very casual and modest dress of thin, light blue colored silk. It was chilly this morning and I had chosen to skip wearing socks on my journey to the lavatory. I feel like I have rings under my eyes, sleep torturous from the nightmares of large wolves and dogs that meet me when I shut my eyes. I shall give my face a good wash before Sohpia and Lacy apply makeup the princes have purchased and wished for me to wear. It was almost time time for me to step into my beautiful-

Run.

I still, sucking in a breath. I was mid-rinse of my face with cold water, feeling a shiver run down my spine. A dreadful feeling was crawling down my back, making every hair on my body stand at attention. My body is crying out that I am in danger. My heart was beating quickly. I need to flee!

Water drips down my chin, as I hang over the marbled wash basin. I am too afraid to look up as I hear a shuffling sound behind me. I had not heard anyone come through the door and I was worried that the man from yesterday would be making another unexpected appearance. I gulp. I am alone. Sophia and Lacy are at the opposite end of the hall…Would they hear me if I screamed?

Would I even be able to scream?

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” A smooth, buttery voice wafts from behind me. I jolt, though, still not brave enough to look up at the reflection in the mirror. A man’s voice. This was not the same accent the man, Chris, had from yesterday. This voice was new, more playful, more devious--if that was even possible. “Such a pretty ward.”

I should run. I plead with myself. I think about a few weeks ago, a scowl forming on my moist face. I am not helpless. I remember the red spray from my fathers wrinkly throat. I will not run anymore.

“This room is occupied” I say, not glancing up, my tone cold and not friendly. “Do you have no manners that you do not knock when a door is closed?”

“Oh-ho!” The man behind chuckles, his fingers lightly brushing across my exposed shoulder blades. I shudder. It felt like this man reached into my body and caressed my soul with a simple stroke of his warm fingertips. “You are a feisty one, aren’t you?”

“Who are you?” I clench my fist, whipping my head up, my fears dissipating with his jeer.

My eyes blew wide as I stare into the reflection, wildly looking behind me in the mirror. There was no one in this dimly lit, cold room. No, that’s not right. It can’t be. His fingertips trail down my clothed spine, the silk making it easy for him to trail down lower and lower. I have never been touched like this and I have never been touched without permission which makes me feel queasy.

“What, pet?” The man with the rich baritone was still behind me, taunting me. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Enough of this nonsense! I turn suddenly, punching the man square in the face. He stumbles backward, a loud crack emitting from the middle of his face. “Unhand me, you heathen!” I shout, bellowing as loud as one possibly could, hoping someone would come and assist me with this ruffian in the lavatory.

“Fuck.” Shiny, bright red rubies drip from his broken nose, falling on the beautiful white marble floor. His eyes flash red with anger as he cradles his bloody face, staring daggers at me. My tight fist throbs, hurting from the force I just used on this stranger. “I’m going to kill you, you filthy human.”

Human? I don’t dwell on his weird descriptor of me. “Try it.” I sneer, adrenaline flowing through me, making me speak before I think clearly.

This evil man lunges at me, giving a loud shout as I glower at him, my fists coming up defensively to my chest, ready to hit him again. I’ll show you who has killed a man.

“Y/N!”

It happened so fast, I feared if I was blinking too fast, I would miss it.

In a flash of black and white, Jungkook, who is dressed rather smartly in a posh tuxedo, races into the room, kicking this man in the face. This sends the stranger flying, hitting the hard, marbled walls. A loud thump He lands with an, “oof” sound, his head lulling to his chest.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook’s amber eyes search mine, sparkling in the dim light. He lightly grips my shoulders, looking me over to see if I’m alright.

I quake, my body shaking with pent up fear coursing through my veins, adrenaline dying down. But I nod. “Y-Yes.” I manage. “I am fine.” I look at the man slumped over, knocked unconscious. “My fist hurts a little…I suspect I broke his nose.”

He blinks slowly, jaw dropping down, my words sinking into his skull as he processes what I uttered. “You what?” His sunset-colored orbs expand. The youngest prince stares at me with a mix of admiration and awe. “You what?” He repeats.

I can’t help but give a small laugh at that, my frown flipping into a small smile. “He touched me inappropriately,” I sighed, “…So, I punched him.”

Jungkook snaps his jaw back in place, hastily removing his hands from my shoulders. I notice how cold it was without his warmth there. “I was coming up to tell your attendants that the ball was kicking off soon and I heard you yell.”

“Thank you.” I shiver, looking back at the man as Jungkook guides me out of the room. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“I know today must have been agonizing for you.” The youngest prince ushers me into the hall, closing the large lavatory door behind us. It groaned on the hinges, making a loud thud as it clasped shut. “I am sorry we had you stay in your room all day.” Jungkook nodded to the door, "We didn't want riff-raff like that to find its way to you.”

A thought crossed my mind now that I was more rational, more-level headed. “Prince Jungkook, I didn’t hear him enter.” He blinks at me as I continue. “I had the door shut and locked.” I shake my head, brow furrowing. “He had no reflection in the mirror…” Jungkook continued to blink slowly at me as I finished. “And…he called me a…human? Isn’t that all…rather odd?”

A beat of silence and I feared I was going to be burned at the stake, accused of witchcraft or something akin to that for saying a ridiculous thing. A person with no reflection! What a queer thing to suggest! Maybe I was losing my mind, maybe I was seeing things and needed to be locked away, living away from others until the end of time.

“Indeed, rather odd.” Jungkook nodded, leaning down to place the back of his hand on my forehead. “Are you feeling poorly, Y/N? I know that man gave you quite the fright. Are you sure you would like to attend the ball this evening?”

A wave of calm fluttered over my body at his touch. I reveled in the feeling of this soft, light sensation traveling through my body. It was a tingling feeling like butter melting on a hot stove or chocolate in one's mouth. I felt my worries float away on a fluffy cloud with his touch. “I feel fine.” I respond, feeling like I’ve been rejuvenated.

“Wonderful.” He grins, gently guiding me back to my room to be placed in the eager hands of Sophia and Lacy. “One of us will be here to escort you to the ballroom when you have finished getting ready.” He says as he shuts the door softly in my face.

The youngest prince gives a low snarl, Hoseok and Taehyung stalking upstairs in tandem, scowls painting their handsome faces. Jungkook rolls his shoulders, his wolf form rippling under his human skin as he marches to the lavatory. The brothers growled, throwing open the door as the strange man moaned in pain on the ground. Jungkook snickered as he hoisted the man up by his lapels. “We have vampire trash to take out.”

Author's Notes: Wow, has it really been two years since I worked on this story? That's crazy to me! Thank you for sticking around if you have been waiting for this story to continue! I have a portion of the ball written out, so hopefully it won't take me years to complete and upload the next bit! Haha. Anyway, a comment, like, or reblog is always appreciated but not necessary. Love you all and thank you again for reading. 💕

Part Three l Part Five

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