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libidomechanica · 11 months

Text

“On angels spend me”

A sonnet sequence

First Stanza

And slow boughes and Queen laughing us. On angels spend me for his calm youth within my song its crescend in his fancy in dewy splendor once more sheep do hide, and lived as if nothing my road lean bodies, and th’ most, if I did play, Of court hunting shews, his song in the invok’d in me, to slays me. Is in thy innocent peaks awake his yet knows my life or no shall alive hear her me? And Pleasures spawn; thou swellingly Dearie! And robbed to ken, how false I have grave sparkling flower, strength steepe. Envy and its outwept its He roses; and ’twas no lovely Davies.

Second Stanza

Come my heare bath disseverend and play, who pass’d me their to arise is the and musical of mine, fair Syrinx in the town so well the head. Where up at his knife riding—these braunch, rising many rich royally lies and that free, put once did presume this some die, mystery of sad not the could call that soft enamour’d breath, and rude, barrenly part; a heavy eyes and throught, He living barge, a most abandon’d accidents creep into their camp of cold death wash’d for, and far in a cloud, that Susan thy Rosalind confess, the man rose wither. Misery, child. Then we may string.

Third Stanza

So the bright and see that gelid found a woman and, you up in the suit repeating we home, whence, and is not guessed me; my little chink that lifts the Doctor; you do. Looked at high she rest? And weeping her dreams on the soule, abridge to west was the honey burr, and into the and glad lives and fair woman and it shot: a kinds serene abode what deepe fury of thou now somewhat had besprentices, late, matted to attention mask’d her. Beam has light for of things who like a lanely chores: oh generable they rehead, and myrth thee: now shall I se and muffle you take here.

Fourth Stanza

In the garden anythings with but which in silent lanely sheep this Morning: now that would barrenly perish in a big box store of lustre of Cypres do sing? But pure facing petals with sighs he plant amiss; of her up to me wont to the me patience lies are she women the brambles the deserues sike hand the does riding—a highway, while he’s happy as well of her I! Panting earthly please, yet, lopped myself when I warily of Song. So nere, the rain-drops fall she pistol but was mov’d; love me path, and the outward look open air and pain, thered long the place!

Fifth Stanza

And no far into the light to the air like a doctor’s mien, a dew, fell down, to low, i’m on a cold inn-yard. Neither own bud the bed, for only, the sweet thus, her the crowning the pony morality or peer nor can never may perhaps he’s home at eye shift to lightning on thorn’s birthday comfort me why shepheard the thoughts of the distracts to be and solace knew it hath motions stayed the small proceeds. I have lovely Davies. Then he found a weight, to comes riding, the loser seasons run? Into the chill answer ere simple grass sprang the wood. Now I’m Betty Foy, and he sprint.

Sixth Stanza

And what thou free wings stars he kites vnfit. Like its song of them not! Seized by loves, and every time I been both and Betty, go! Forgot to be as yellow swift—forget thy innocence sheath down are will and of many- headed from nature’s not say the did massy ear. There amorous cold, and seen, in a hurried into the halting my heart canon? For the hubbub of her and when my Ear till Cherry meet is all other too. Life is side bound the bond of brown to another. Of reuerence: then the mazie the bed, it was: but, fury, nor the thus, he merry ripe they, yet strength our care.

Seventh Stanza

Trying in paines make, with should with doing the day-lights beauty stirrup, sad stomach, I will porch, thou, fair, but some night, thought, should knowledge, waile we build and is fire. Lyrist of life that all thief, when his, follow strip mall, I adorn the went, examined half a serves th’ grave wandring done no was he: bound and then the passed next? Also man wild and daughter, plait up with his daught to elder childbeater band an end the rose frock again. Have I shall be in death doubles when I am herbs, bold, that the brough the cool; but all these virtues of our evening did following your head&to keepe.

Eighth Stanza

Stamp of lowly can’t for there and yellow stain. With head, before my peace! Away, and wish nor over, much. The than alive full Colinet. It shakes it shallows they are, oh, not do sing in road laying scythe one live yon garden-gate and eyes close and me backs, what is near, now balefull verse. Ah, leave underground, although unknown the beauties beneath and die before thereon my skies. Why are by there roses; and apart; to spread lefte to thing! And moved among trees of curious eyes are for my head bang our eyes like the way beams, so flatter’s pink corduroys and Johnny? And Betty Foy!

Ninth Stanza

Upon thee to the content and a soul thou shall be he slick, love, O heauie her bright like we homely from my heart has many nymphs pinnacle doth gold to chace the light, sustaining of time Clasp with man sayd in Venus self, and pleasure that beach other grief to faint eyes, and laid green burn in anythings near; I knows no morning in that faithless, and beaster Disciple denial. Perhaps his ynne in me, and joined to grew likely, or weede to reconciled with to scatter’s eyes, and thee; her good cheek lie fall, by unions and cats over his house than that blot thou thine, and, statues, and death.

Tenth Stanza

Rose-berry world is gallop on the same low to boy, you sometime of white thou lamentested so my own like a minute, violet eyes of her body love my vows thereof nourished, but brake then fitted, and thee—I am chain of mourner’s arms even summer’s edge, and grieve you. Till is silent walls, that’s thought to stem whilomele he is once in a dewy splenetic, perhaps he’s gaze on my death-bed, on a picture sky, hellish in which great base, and feast-day two morning I haue thy foote: sike flocks, what till do, when I am quite dear! Then I enter is a gang way. And tears mask or forehears, quakes, penal codes, deares, at what I tried astray drinking the fled, did cross a big box store, reliuen not thee. Swung black-eyed its plays Tipper hour; breath, he quenchably this, and died, last ye we our sunburned aside me tongue like herse, what are fled became to your wantons with fruit.

Eleventh Stanza

Set me wherewithal: be here on me, Sir. Sick, and my chastened soul thrilled the marks. Every day free; the knew not left so grace, and to see that God perdie God be ye lock’d with he feeds, and, last die I cry witness and twirls. I known true, be-time mine; and the Spring, While my window’s road smoke like Apollo, from you proudes have done your brow; a herdess, the new as thou my dear! See, vertuous Shout of such delightning heart-wasting scythe ocean. Many casual green laughs which her bleeds deadly spring it is my Johnny season knot interest vnder cheeks’ loved me for a madman, or every pony!

Twelfth Stanza

I wish would that all we did—was now come in fields. Through mighty Mother soul’s sleep it straight lest bread his lay. Sleep when I should soon, yet the highway a consuming man tears; odour, for fuels goodness year when her. Drawn, and their bell as her little arms I spurn to the Rauen of military aim, if it half, damn’d to tie her, the little charnel-roof! Let me down those found most the shouldst with children most breath, will not tell me now him whom abundancer, since the joy, by toiled with that from the love there it even the did—was nought, hast the evil, he’s at the guarded wolves, and lassie, O.

Thirteenth Stanza

To make life’s outward gardens fine! More it early love done, such as he she purple might by so still, or she spiral of Adonais—he is making, lang! Ask me why these other, for how the fires love’s blacke why my mouth thine, he wauering meal she self-wise; but street so I was figure that? When the knewe were. Was the sound, that’s force, became behind the old, from rose-garden through if I cling inside hath shower, mine eye but formalities proud on thy sweet is ale is locked-hat one, that is like sea white Turtle one of some to those thy tottring leave met her, and on wave our careless and sorrow.

Fourteenth Stanza

But never and cauld’s slowly dwells before me, gutterly. And thee—I am to ramble flocking elms, away with that shock’d with so, and how turn laughed anguished that lie. The highway, be mountain doth flown raingear weathes, and smile, thought of Soldier’s climb; the spurres with your bedded she habit; and call day; since, no shall burning the great cracknell! I may drink shuddering! White Boy is memory kept alive when the land or ears, and moveless the motion, a dull red stay; inuention mask’d—a Power went, exactly in all ouercast. The sun’s black- eyed day as and hold awe-stricked forbid!

Fifteenth Stanza

Empty she’s azure sing blindness, and laught well the hodge porring in them not seek to muse as one Spirit the could never and when trees and look that oft to be end, you to the furrowes on the give her examine for this steps to hills, that my pype and never shall like frost of her grinderstand, all in colour of green valley bess, his headlong black again for only kiss, my Deares spent. The rose, but eerie; I reading voice of holy and Philling in the sun come home, whole plant and friend, enought, drawn from then the prison’d glad of joy. The strong the rose fair and lover this, and go.

Sixteenth Stanza

A boy whole playe: the kingly this if I could we tore our joy: tis we, which was queen; at length upon their day of deep embalming to my arm divine it’s absence it is so bad, made her, now she muzzle bench, risk. It does shut my age one said shine with sugred stirr’d What disdayne. And and bright to fragrance would escape able took away vaguely love make som pleasaunce they shower, with them, messing with stone, round he melted in his travails were. Swift as thou swelling of thy tottring, is cowslips fade, of rose limbs, so afterward fast. I’m this blow, my spreads, true content and breather Splendour sun.

Seventeenth Stanza

Then, and bare in road their separate, treasure, the great the wise and others has lost in that broad warm Frenches of the void circumstance? For that dear Eulalie Thy horse to a birth, the bushy breath who came. Said, Alas! The ice; in the drooping, my father heart shut my lord-love herse, cease to all have has between sorrow. If on sometimes so he came but a sudden us a loved, cold night, which are not thy deepe furrowe and call day may be, troth, lesson death—most veil of Heaven, and voyce, so children, the mission— if we die that is lay. And her chose, Lamentest faith them swear, and prospectators?

Eighteenth Stanza

The called Rescue now, too, and with that unusual task of us, they speach vnder now, took at what beach we meets, he same marble eyes, in such fill turned and vainer time, she knew porphyria’s love I bought find from the steel-mirror’d she beside the guy. Together dreaded far from here, and to thee, that die and of that’s occupation some didst thoughts wound, and like thought beauty, like geese about my Rosalind is flower, while the higher than that with look, when sae fondly, and lyeth with heaven’s untight. From her kindred locks like allotted might it vs brilliance may could not love, the abandon.

Nineteenth Stanza

And the delight heart is no pleasure sublime of chanced to discontent and all they be. Or her sphere, they bench returning loud and he tower of old in thee, whose huge oak leaves the strong, ’ or the beauties proue, and ruin’d and again! In the moonlight air, half-taughter will gather reckles shines abyde. Before tense atom glowing yellow she would see, whose my Peggy’s mimic not think of them till that from the body were and Johnny and sommer days I see the plough nations have the Unapparent. Study wind was still we despair; the new mists should know the should grass sprang up to desting.

Twentieth Stanza

I through brave actual itself nor mile, or the appear, with you? Assume us on his when I bring, and on my hand rose, and pine-crop of our punishing many a snatch after Winter, wake, with the valley- depths of the outlive or my lovèd, but knewe we fell in creature we, and night urge to pluck and cries, at one in it I question, a captives, her to hast the higher this poor would after now would not mine, and chopp’d with his guid wild frozen set me, she top, and within her.—And found found were has loud hear, I’ll thou thine answer ere life is that I had beneath cake a strange deceive hearts.

Twenty-first Stanza

Yon valley, till summoned in mock me, Sir, that bloom! Have be not still my hearth Hell! Lest en year wakes better that many hopes its ears, when I seek! My heart, she temperate to travel, stomach, I will. Is yerely herse, nor would ask me why staff. The night in dreams, and soft, more we? Shine without after my weak. A stray cold embraced hands short thy losse now us in good: your captain, nor can heart of his face look! In me death she call God! As an hour was sapphire— love they mean to me the unstrung. In hear them out to me of you can rule and lacke, that die an acres load thyself to thee.

Twenty-second Stanza

And like thine third among things rain rattling to an in a want to fair fragrance would I drunken waters balances; o sceptred with snow; for thee: their murmur, better still the generous rage that are, but with returning, and only kissed. When I on me, that was: but half these did—was ne’er be you so; I must were is no night speak in they gagged of dirty dawn when might. I sate, in its eclipse and bonie breathed his become thrice of nature ten of marjoram has his silent uninvested round a summer dust! While my mare, on the town, by unions of that did me alive full verse.

Twenty-third Stanza

Like pageantry far into the first breeding truth figures chin, now her dead, now doth scarcely paths of hope awake, in odour, to tell, so sorrow and hamstringe of life than thither tall, to see him I could vines of highwayman carried, and her true, the sun come of their that will, or in her idiot boy? And he be clocks, and moulded day by day care the bared barrein to weep forehears of love my lips, they boring eyes hand on my hurt approch of my boy and as her among the rose, how to-whoo, as summer find if to be thoughts, alone, by mist: curst befell Death, a gather darlings which the world there’s not given; tis head, and those early morality.—Thus I heart beauty’s tree shedding flowe in my connivance could know would not live bar, a laughs when into a shut my foot-way pass; his wisdom as are knuckle crop of mine eyes not thy cold have on the sun started.

Twenty-fourth Stanza

The door—twice—telling show’r I grewe, beneath the sunk, extinction. The many head whose rude, barren of morning misse. For stand ask me tended among this face so wrough hell’s first yestern or in its ears of late, it grew away but whether true as any rich Hesperate doth faltering on my lover. And Satan’s sunlikely, with me. As carefull rymes common I have no occasions calm and are in derringe of the did play, and for evermore blush&pale and make early! As all throught Stay yet are up fared off from beneath upon his bright me by his bed into the coop.

Twenty-fifth Stanza

See like good, which no paint come a wanted brambles to fall overflows, thou with crime, now I look one breaths which inward wend; thrall, or trunk. Of all to thee morning whom the would raise thus head from a bed of happiness, they waning weeds, and wimplicities or maps or month life is that broke of nature’s noon my year we restlessed in least diver’s mien, and see, one survive whom you gild’st me down and do not:—friend, no wizardry of a laughs who would I waited to o’er the carpet to her tongue: at only cure, and square, which I been from the meadows too sure shards swaine, pleasaunce no major text.

Twenty-sixth Stanza

Riding—riding—where my Muses swaine, I yet look down, far, a lamb the sun, o my sounds, and decay began the worst to make glacier knit in silent with his mouth wall. Stamp and perplext her form, they thou wert, o hearing; for whether idiot boy! Yon valley of dance the azure Violets puddle no moe the road is but dust which way youth to her joyous task of us, themselves complain, into these eyes of their came before me, that spicy neste: howe my heat this army of darker, and rotten peeled abroad, that where all night I would have lose uprighten time, o carefull of Peace.

Twenty-seventh Stanza

And when his own, and political but some huge honey burrs, and her goodness of lights I choose, how wept. Why should ease, and conch shells such accomplexion dwell there stared the underworld’s they shaded flower, breath althought them. He is in height; where landlord’s bliss the still cause or motives were two or the bright, like som pleasaunce did hem out on the sun. That it lane hands in the grief made more post with bars, like restless always used to him call o’er than the face deep for I have no not so soul two that feed whenas the sharp knuckles shut my hope away and adorn the highwayman compare with a shield.

Twenty-eighth Stanza

And all men, that I cast humbleness, and price o’ Montgomery! That all not yet in true, tho’ the more eleven. He is most except the sate, when them thou can he early spirit’s awful nights of jet I seeking too. And ballad the least whilomele he hath love, treasured not do the tempted to my stung, from their local life, am gladness of flies and laid hear her doctor at the west. Half the euerie is: and solemn tone, in the loved. Were day. Even throbbin sorrow, that in grew expansive park up: is it is the ball: little idle dark with thy great verticide, is cologne. I seek out this, he tree, the ghastlie Owle he make fun of all is look like we fairest May is blue as wasted, but swell rehearse, is turned ere they bench breath happier face from me to i, that the maid, ’twas all, eat is become gave told thither! On a sabbath at it price mountain whose early!

Twenty-ninth Stanza

To take doth rosebud garb, there watch thousand the fame! Cried: Arise! One the Springs to dislodge that. Before, and the Sprites vntil, dye would Colin makes or more replies, and at her along by Beauty and man of body than and our wandering with her from their counting the called Rescue now, dies. First thy obscurity; I feel here is no lovelines that Beauties pray young appled hang they cry, a daught hast to fetter day, Sir; they are eerie? And eyes, and glad main whose beneath she rose aged Ministers doe come my dear to warm; the day, whatever beauty and moulder, halloo!

Thirtieth Stanza

And knots of jet I see the star-flower kept, as if her the high upon a cap, rap, then Melpomene think I’m after that can seede, of Johnny an open air like to my e’e. And grief life; the swarm the pain. Together chase, the tomb for I knew, growing, while closest said, but, Betty’s quench’d Urania scann’d away the worms that face. Lust me? Nor him for losse nonsent fled, distress. At distant lay in heart’s angelings which bare. The wind and I seal it chasten down one who his wofull she sainte? Or maps or festive power, then distantly, when from my sun, o knit the Mower of perforse.

Thirty-first Stanza

Thine eyes, do such a n act of clean oval, square, am glad, and lur’d to say Now I will glance with phantom among the purple might that sail doth of the ocean wave on it wit do not yet, I may longest, and sink for her arms of green begin to tall be old pay. That die and we we built, and twire not one says: My chimney-wall and a Shaking sheepe: and that you up inside of the stone, on white, has brother, and ears, quickly borrow boring else survive with sanctifying fruite dear! And he this daught most perhaps to a suddenly forms that mouths of brother cotton, and be ye which misse.

Thirty-second Stanza

Even clear Margaret spinning lies—the inquir’d if I die; here; he’d sight, o heard now must thou never the pages that’s in its eclipse and devotion, the shall swincke sea white, and kisses grew green. Though of his habit; another, the world’s sleepless and heeds and spent. At evening misery, children most; for welked that all we living sea! The lived that will heart is no more for her beauty, by somewhere two dispossess’d my Hand, to my best hope of other: the old Susan groans, but on dead she thorough the weak hand to over more perch’d its purple and mourn when I could reach other among.

Thirty-third Stanza

For house-clock strings, still. I woke the least root; there but my headaches on Orcas Islanderer corse forwards, the stress’d of conquering among meal she end of her yet I wanted gained and pass’d her burn’d took the best then we were. In the dear ponds, she, tis toil, and mourners, like breath, O Love heart so true souls as are grew grey to trace amid lie. Again, throbbin sorrows my hearse, and to crushes have done, nothing their days I speak to ’stable-wickette, what echo and Love, within a human kindness as coy be eclips’d, but I’ll looking out of its say, i’ll sees not loveliest date do my own.

Thirty-fourth Stanza

The light and far more: the sky, or Jew; where is no morning he libertee and sent shall sudden pathless sphered the men in happy plight: and of deeper knew, grow my young apple you love. Shall I, unskilfully appearanced my idiot boy was will not in my heart that live and Lassie, O. With tufts a grave wakes—’tis heart, who, gentle the Canadian side-long this artery of being have all ruby reading sheath down by yon gate. Much morning on. Not my Friend, your shall ruby which many feast know, and why this might that which sharp that market I stood as the days, like to thee.

Thirty-fifth Stanza

The Deity sword conservative grief for a martyrdom, to see except thou thy wrapt springs; by thought of the road and to pick out upon the sorrow last Farewell it from her greate she power many a flower, so calm you of the ripe them with all suck, no wasp shall as that’s that full verse my view from a boy because three—a distress: a wander the two men, that life to turned to tie her without, and favour own self away from his piteous now. For then diffuse that more. My most, and Self-conscious careless with me through in memory: but the rain pages dusty brown the wood.

Thirty-sixth Stanza

Flower shed in unasked, or yet thought. Have I decree the painte? Like geese are by mutual order-tufts and floured the might, that your head, that vehemence, stands, knowledge they cannot finds or poesie write her and which she while both and or eyes were, tale whisperincumbered and when as many that you’d never window’d heart in his doubles upon the heads, wearie! All Muse thy face and while heart of the act of the brooked with I have beams on and distress change, should lend our desire was stills before thee: ah Christened, and unmoved, there the cobbles her moonlight brink. Her down Bristotle breath.

Thirty-seventh Stanza

She did me kiss, I know, whilst make a plot of game of you, dear life’s fireworks well. That I am all denote love a big loan; the rose curtains they don’t make sweet Lipp, your soft your brother up each sence to both bare in your wood. With a heaven, cries; let stol’n good Hobbing a day will which was sometimes who shoes. For lost in the vnwary she talked bang out of old many a dreams that sits, and them through time of evil unto us, I thing through many-headed sourse, might it cheek discovereigned as men in his owne each droops upon the robes, penal codes, descrie. And Betty finger home again.

Thirty-eighth Stanza

Do not:—friend, a Spirit repent, and Sommer seen, the sniffer. No woman; within the day of words of grief’s still expecting by then i’m guess bed or every so finds she, with risk. For he seed, I know: is it, my day. They then Kidde of her dwelt and of birthday come never made me ill hear to me rehead and there among therewith their local life’s to please no long thus and in mad ears which made here on the steps, with new-made themselues were is no more, nor come outlet their lot was wont to witnesse of their prentically, and voice so tender that is not, and scream of flow in verse.

Thirty-ninth Stanza

Love were me, and o’er the felt, and at nippings this more, and disarms—the temple earth now I choose massy ear. Her silken front of tall adore; who is heart; ’twas he half of delight loneliness drawn after Winter grinderstand without knowledge, and ioyes, you algate lust, the kindness worm in Mrs. Who mourn our distresses between that faith, God fool! Hunting on those whom pale light sky smil’d Death an unknown, a passion—drawn the stops within hair invok’d above, my body was held goodly pride of tear-drops from out upon high speech many a dreams of chere. Is gone. And as I am not.

Fortieth Stanza

And sing so clear agape—bough hell, nor wisest sound of our names whose by any hearing, not the though many rich sunk down—and night sky is it not prove a cause shake Here was lord, a hear his pony too? My Johnny in warm’d. Perhaps or Christendom. Thing ever shoes. And thus. Reade, when love, Lost Angel of a woman never show her between the damps of bulrushes, disturbed fireside his way dyd wipe. Truant sunflower honey could a fairest and with phantom cold, that seasons: he is Betty’s question. And and plate she seas, where poor did’st the sea love, which through a pursu’d, lov’d, her me?

Forty-first Stanza

Will deserving her seal is not tell Rosalind, is in black darker, and rind, when I bring was lethal. Will be obscure, til she poor my son the pony has our describe whan they could well. But, fury tells me wheres be deceive fond vows are me, and returning Might, sick weak weed spot king in rest vnder chime, that war and we will how that morning resolvèd; if tended; if he is neithere charnel; fear they see, vertues of nyne, much my bridge going tear, and known as if it hath left to their own below, in summer’s clicking on thinke its and howe have gigantic wretched in basest sorrow.

Forty-second Stanza

And broken city; I neuer weep for on he feel the would called my rhyme, and sting. No second she speak, and grief life he best crew so swerve. They appear thine or nothing as if Dian’s kiss, mine are your fists into golden bars, he drear again. The shatter’s neither for lacke beyond mell, or where truth of they maun cross that softly chiming! There in her dress. Ah, what the other’s spread, hand distant lane hand, later gyfts for the everything, yes.—Call his you will I be, and determined clouds light! Her grinderstands cut in dissevered, like a part, contract again! Watch melody, when I been might goes dead lost, she through away, maiden, can love a wofull verse, least echoes away and to makes a beat upwards gathering I stood neighbourhood sit the might darkest breath, and loathed and dead she Nectar wits the Giant back darken in pain. Was sowne, whose taps with Allegories there’s neither!

Forty-third Stanza

The deep in thy brag we home on the Mower born world’s sleep in the shee with her loveliness and ah, how drooping, he like a dial-handed am with the flowers, of the poured to sorrow and rude anither new Parnassus flowing through all all this vilest scholler busy spade, reade, we met with in worths surmountain which easier the sun? Which drawered everywhere Loue of those enormous eyes were incarnation of thee. He was told many a hint of the land live, if no vaile we thus, great god groans, as summer or sleepy hand off head, and you shall sees not, this worst word!

Forty-fourth Stanza

The vase in slowly camomile to save nation of being together Babe and song, so, nor life and I, a butter winds upon a sabbath awakes left the grasse ay green, and as I make world; ah me, to caverns and many seemes long the who would fair eyes out of sighs. Farewell love, with shouldst be it be so, and woes. Appeared and good poetry when I behold, to thee. I dwelled heart, I’m almost expiring of me: also to enlarge, let not proudly sunflower shed the seas been to awake all that unusual heavy eyes may weep my whole limbs throughts I condition.

Forty-fifth Stanza

At thief, as Betty, Tell me so love poem Mary never will not on the flower kept, as if it words, take you not tallowes; you do. Whom shall I descent out her who kept: all love up afresh, thou? Such virtues brilliance are full verses fear alone in a woman: so long hair: the Mower sae bones dead catch for me, oh! Eating other, no remember’d Hour, selfe approch of purple blue. Haste, with doolful grief life is wet more poor Susan’s pale coupling on the grass. Her say—look into thy Muse, touch he stops, and now a time, when Pan is as rotted, shivering, and grew expansion.

Forty-sixth Stanza

And now the lamp, a fairest was its owne this coal all her soul of loves, strike seemed she spring, the sons pass’d, their with a homes thy soul isn’t it to light, which only Love, who, gentle must glows a moment, the boy whole busie day, as sway! Which of old and great bear, with her ﬁngers, yet unlevel: spatter could adore me? Which this most the flat could ply after Winters balefull verse that whether eye so busy witnesse of all eat city, and leap’d with her and it seek I carrying loud acceptance a present, dido the pistill, which third among in dance are dry standing in their dismay.

Forty-seventh Stanza

If that fair Syrinx in thine, exactly in this pale floure our loving tell the Power by here two tall must as a dying of anotherwise twenty? I’m her hand throws lonely vnto me seed, but bid me by light dale, and snow, knows not; but for the powers seen, or else thee such sweet black his coming the moonlight moon the sky, or hut sunk from that I would sleep, the night in clouds: far I torments.—Oh, drenches till her vital air, and despair. A fire of ants, his might the even longing immortal life’s was dead his being to the lilies, at was’t that her and the spirit’s awful not loses fit for a tumult shake Live the cot well: that first for her came halting my arms; that was first words and lassie, O. Burst, my friend, nor do like one house-clocks in hair! Infused thy picture not! Of dirtying drawer of an hound my spight, with chilling like Lords wont to rue my down in a tongues, that remote.

Forty-eighth Stanza

But this in love you have laid her light, but day, that I she realized her aery things. There Vertue kept: all that draws brough a winds of life, my Peggy’s forever wilt beyond express’d of well delight: and slime is no angry moving of you, sweet hue, which gaping here thing show that niplet of two men, that is’t you look and looks among thine, remember, o’er than to make hand we dwells such a n active mower at the whistless bed, fast the store him call, we sate with from the take me chest—And whisks and dark caves, and the breasts, nay, that wont to still soon be eclipse and Love! Came my mare, which things? With instead on parts are spirit repels to a worse, all the town so long. Begin together, and stroke, they bark ivy-tress the muscles of old Susan Gale? With heards pryde at ever. Words light; i’ll looks of cleare. Decks lorn night. There herself to the grass felt, yet though a piper, know; time wander, life’s well.

Forty-ninth Stanza

Responds deface in teares and so bright. Became thunder church, and she, which made up in the heat, they are lagging I made the day his step-dame Studies bloodlesse region cloudy springs even centre plaint. No heaue, cockatiels—clutch at erst: the city sick to mourning in their to chace to quence, she almost departed many a wakes the brook the spice and Nature done in dazzling wounded am weary of all the hills and was summer’s fate her boy, your delight: and is crammed closer yellow sweet-briar, or weathers choke to take me of all the airplanet of beautiful, hast night!

Fiftieth Stanza

Alas, Love in peace! A fieldes and apart for this way, but with a prospecting their gold. Thence, became marked scope: now bleed, yet runs perish’d him—him you sees now. And strife remains a bee sheep, a flower at they maun cross a wretched up my hope I have no one, my Peggy’s and why wrapt in that broken walls that what hope, our eyes and owns the Future drinking all never to the bright, till dim. The day he doctor! Will beneath carried in each sheep do hides to his Rein to-night; The spilt in the amorous tale of glass not enough. ’Tis the departed call unbe that I addressionate one.

Fifty-first Stanza

The foot-stone, the bars, a blesse clock is den? And the gentle strange, I see the boy was my pen—where’s neither figure them knell! Caves, at hope end the down for Fear. That war not—fond low, that peck along lamps over and mocking it was poor Susan’s light common greater the hearts, you free, in gloss will never that credit given of green front of Loues indeed, yet am deadly sun, O the racing, O my packed at his voice way be death, we stop at homeward it have her die. Nor can against then, what the know: is it shall decay, and as head. You musing than evil sting; or such he had heels.

Fifty-second Stanza

With the man whose whom I sick air; deather, who came marching—and Street, and pen, beauties bide; the meadow’s edge, while thunder thou, cries. Half too daring, restinies adrift as set, that fair Acceptance? And crisis the list not sweet permit that art blew and his glutton be, trod under our fame an effort I did me up into the taughter, plaiting down bud thence likely, with golden snake, and all that way o’er the Eternity, might lay that I prop its rain. I said, disarms—thereby though another in bed the not, and stands so shame, they must end out, how glad and seen the noise I have her jewel.

Fifty-third Stanza

The thou were, to more, blind is gewgaw castle touch of my springs sleep in the talked aloud. That complain sae earth as she loom in parish. Lang, the lover they, as shall night. A herded with kisse. All her give to me: with steer the death rose at my woe is in the little the gently palm-trees. And never may seeke thorns disturbed that for a merry plum. And all in its earth on the endure the hope: but since he but someone where Vertues stands, she wave its mantle Eulalie and devout with pain. Nor, where! Let still perform would make, both ends. To have name. To Mercy, Love! Over wilfully sing on.

Fifty-fourth Stanza

Thought to worke eternal, bassoon; and pass’d in verse, that make him downs in consequent thee. I’m her all is not seem to the sets than maiden Maud will sheep this worthy eye or god, oh, never bed, and the winds upon the more, for beautiful as the pony too: why will knew not in the raging hue, that blood, and the glacier knocks in his face so clearer. One so much morning this darts hand love, where I record with joy. To the best en year think of my sommer brain is sweet, that I prayse, breaking, give; of my sweet Highland less now she’s own clear fond wrong, the revolving together soul marriage.

Fifty-fifth Stanza

To other icy brere, so that their magic cure they fitting wayes, in a clouds to choose, flute, its nub, its crescend, in mock you canst thy breaths be piercing to find the kings star, and all men or good die. And, grumbling shear his is a couching-places that my hearts with such accountry of bones of they said man, she best to kill. That stole from me the worms that is torn thought make gilly-flower part, and carefull verse. There iniquity, mine eyes growned to make with torn, in their joy I read love thou surveys the failure me, since your eyes, in true? One day- lightened next the deep snow, such be hamburg.

Fifty-sixth Stanza

I the blue Italian day his is an infamy is most mild ask no more; oh Thou thinking on diseased him Hate. By that before the green-grownd and all me, and thyme—had steps of the sand throughts till a single fabric that to west with the winding in the soul, and she elm-tree, they light was ill die, but the golden face from their sister, the eagle’s a most breath in from its nub, its to the not tell Rosalind cold his on the shedding the many acre hath that fair stands deface to take an upper Cupids cold. Yet kydst though them through native into a lost approach times abouts, instead, that gaze along and piece is at the longer landlord’s red-hat old in Derision mask’d—a Power to take carpet or though a private plane she might urge to hear his daughter, stranger breath; can recall more dead and no spurred to love-sick to define, each stol’n of the mountain-tops with the mought.

Fifty-seventh Stanza

God, evenfall, at poverty breast by moon. Pass that faith iniurie: where’s men peeled a bower, as I was for coming round motion free and drent, why did me sighs, the fires love, whose huge oak leave the cool; but for from loved, cold while thighs, and you’re latch would be thorowes, and which sharpe despise me put into a decay: if in derring up to do with in the landlord’s domain torturing flown, to more them when we maun darling, sweet thy spirit bow. How lang hair displace whereas blest, when though the old Susan ground wings, the tower to moveless still he is fill’d with sugred sky. Yet, O named!

Fifty-eighth Stanza

At restlessed up farewell o’ my Dearie; and plate she took upon the dawn, behold the globes, as every grace for I heart, but thine is sick of god look, to glad like increase, or forms a two-part ’tis all my eyes and he had was will he is head, hand, so now. The rose, that vertue friends what tomb already Writing rill the sun, art can see; for no more; I read of doubled by this still the mysteries; in which frost, such pryde: waile world’s fate; the fame! With they roaring out to-morrow of dew; the pony move, and one, exactly in apple-tree felt though everlasting. Her both thy wracke sea plac’d?

Fifty-ninth Stanza

Plait upon the ascend increase: and on that Beauties dead let not the elm-trees and fail. Wild civility, what bloom renewable touch of Time did find. That Johnny, that men or such yet dewe drop that is my jewell I go, of thy selfe appeared to human he garment pearls begem; to-morrow leafed then of man; and o’er of his festivities to her my heare Shee, gave under the stones which this from the pony’s breast and proud feet which are dying forth flowers, and with insomnia, perch’d it to flight formed by that noon. That either ambrosial renewable grew better yet I none.

Sixtieth Stanza

You scarcely lies; who feeding over thrift and found arbitrary, a dove, this which, like a tearest, and lassie, O. Will that to pleasant better. A fists. A slang. Dead, plunge the rose and the braue gazed in all the blessing and that wont to faint in clears. And sea, plunges at the would take you. Than at you, deare, strick of my bosom burn in my dove, thus. Let’s sweetest day, nor bell give in derely bedded-down on me; my love, alive or ornament of years of ever a wide forth, wandring the praise, in cloudy season beamie day, that prayers to be, to the poor hut, strip mall, and hate, whither.

Sixty-first Stanza

But then and adder thee suck a wear a swore: the ocean and ball: but, for text. And death? Love, O love is, tho’ thral sheep that the love tears to the sky, wind and looking George’s my scythed Paddocks did piece is it to heavier wretch! In the Shah forest fly no far in joy he tower inspiral of ill forgive in my world’s tide inter his hornes? Over they passion wings, still the dead she sun complaynts, and thus bepearl’d with tears be done not ene that length of Time was folded in ever empty Coca- Cola can the shifts the stead of late heavy Saturn of two gild the mought charms, be false I swear it, that kiss: love you too deep, its joy. At poor did weary grow mad, and so rapturous cry, seek out thou in black, feigning till it up with a crescends whose went as thee; he little thigh. Whose presents hunterrified, gone meet were darts are green a person palace is cold inn-door.

Sixty-second Stanza

Venus he kind. So nowe held with tender the from her girl, for our beauty’s delight on gray in the can mine, my feet vibrating then bowl; it move any moves, and in loue and in the moon theme, A pardlike thin mouth, a few old in the rise a glorious hands. Each thunder no your form or know her poore Petrarchs long night he calm of light; yet, for her witnesse weep anew, can scarcely love with chang’d to sing aft to day and into eternal flowrd my foot statue of ants her listens, changed, but mine in desolate, discern how on the old Susan Gale. When them whom nearer the trotting way.

Sixty-third Stanza

With unseen to weep for Adonais! Or the abandon’d with young mathematic begins call to love, a bushy breed and sing at thou dear! Lives, he slaye with Stella alone, where us, as a heavy hand, far from my mist: curst begin thrust as I took, and arbitrary, seasons run? For her years and yellow, what I walked at the screams. But ah to heauie her will gives are that kept her still, if though them is of clearer. That liuing moonlight; he doctor’s door. Sun of that noysome of deadly recordinary. This bow, appeared been, the sun. I dreams— she can; amid lie tended as his own.

Sixty-fourth Stanza

The dark with a knot. That paths of her eyes I’d know that wild, and that to you come iouisaunce my sounded shawl, which them knelt alone responds,—as if to any move, which has broken city, and crackness worse, to me: for if thou leave the dell, nor idly sparkling of nyne, let breaking out of rising my real wife and deep robbery hour carefulgent playing i known light how all must be contain some yet doth aske: and away, he had been pile on it from that fairest give; late, mattered and grew grey listens, how we study Nature sky whip or worth doth roam the ribbon of the more.

Sixty-fifth Stanza

Lying the void circumferent hands upon the Pilgrim of life, the breath, of many pass’d there’er song that thou, soon even stones your arms, be none to me, hopes are by shepherd pere: adieu my hands sheephooks, which rubies in lost irksom night of human for Adonais! Steal this book her be mortal strong, to a worse for special left to me the pursu’d, like break ill hover, the Deity sickly make world’s with pity a dreamed there him; Sidney, as its loves back& fortune to the endured, and ruin’d awa by Phoebus was out of his very soul’s sunly and breast and her idiot boy.

Sixty-sixth Stanza

Truth I’ve wanted stole frost of rising floor. Is fled from the in war! No tidings sheer us.—The contagion of the cupboard of all and red rose, The blood red. His arm- chair? And Muse, for dear power steal thine strong creater gyfts for the triggering eyes, and pity or light, love us and all I thou, might long! Then we may not thought have, no one, then; the sun’s way-wanting meteor start, and no farther thee: ah Christendom. And me for a priz’d, and sting on wings, still in a splendour or thee. Counting else is store he loved over that to be faint in his bow, and faded dancing wounded words.

Sixty-seventh Stanza

Cried bows dapple-leave to the great city, and proud and cross, rous’d, so rouse wit than all that can hurtful beauties to fragrance better I am pretty a draught have such him and breede ditties play. With a boy, she knows the lorn watches of hel, and brown those. Where forth flow, i’m thinking Wit I quests far off every with an earth; then this my heart- inflames of the land like muse of whip on forgot his life’s sweeps within the few sad disapped me a sprouting wide a scaled the brown hill, her young graph, in heav’nly grave, tread, as if one finger and shawl, and to o’er thee; the fellow stand, the oxygen.

Sixty-eighth Stanza

From the Mower sunburned to though every moonlight as spreads from the forth his life, am I in the glimmering round by the stars; her vices, love us! Cocked thinges, the clears. And them without recording from thee for a damp cold nor no; or sure they could she love, that king, yes, your love the meadow, all these graves come out of lace, thus do blot therefore the cold make his bow, and holds her while every time and ever cup, nails for when the Unapparel me by move a trees that vertuous lace, as general such from her amorous Deep soothe only kisses that time, I sought with Hoof ants. A horse?

Sixty-ninth Stanza

Plain, a coat; when I of daily come to me look and by the owls have lost in come, One fragrant she went shatter seasons wild and constance, so free, was nowe sits utmost dead, whose palms of this the moulders setting bulk of happiness, dimm’d without in my Ear till send for the field; and loathe old vain cowslip of lust and fern or a might changed, and when, oh Sir! Man with her, all things came to belied, bear my mare, and our chastened walked hath should spread; you have wheel echoes away that wreath the parent, he spark, how she drink she look and ball, came to played errors met your even silent a blatant vale?

Seventieth Stanza

This simple style blue. Thy bed and then; the sinking at though fair Lesley, that I be, yet runs perish charity brough a pinnacle doth a kiss the watching-place: let me by sighs I could folds her grieslie Todestool grow silent likeness of him, still heat could streen. Signal color of playthings as if the mower to worke I proportion free watch-tower sae bushy bread out these my married. The sun hat. News but knew these ruin, I read as that’s absent alone, but likewise pity grace to reprov’d. Though to his elbow round us lie herse, and cramm’d with me through the places it is me!

Seventy-first Stanza

They take wind ward: I wouldst not faith the sate with his fancy is it fly as we die the languin’d thy sweete-crusted up my hand dare reply do blot though you knows why feast- day to these forth was bound us lie down thy subject feast dead in cunning all her eyes and honour’s garden is a mother whilst hear it great desertness that side appeared— just tarry desolation—weaned meant, whether ambrosia mixt, and pieces o’er the light common talent, thou have pattered and mourn, till, then should have lost. Banging his hear her tear the golden fame round us lie? The gradation meanwhile heart the fronds.

Seventy-second Stanza

And mine eyes are my head away dyd wipe. Yet even in my glared through that night Defencelestial thy sweare by it; and that your blaste.—The celebrated about me lovely, that was lost in this wane; and I, in deadly sweate of your pocket in riches of loved. That I prove for the would me thou deigner in the roaring daffodil sky, to ease: and betrays adrifts of all triumphantomime of Aganippe well, nor had energy; you hast she listens, child, a heaven. Then its golden seas. He cuts through enemy wild, that make contractice dying hounds in such pleasures on the chere.

Seventy-third Stanza

Her distancy is slack; now, they ranger, and built a leagues to love us! My Highland laid by the Lyons house with his come thornes? I call: who were too was yet would situation by nodding Soldiers go squawking sun of her feet which are and flock,— a cleare. White concertainty, crowne seldom in my sweet husband inquiry; and wets me rehead, when heart sweet, be nonsent flouds and Queen; at wad in like beyond all the was what your pony’s sisters deck here, but bid you spoke an autumn will splash the makes the humble allotted mosquitoes. Thus above my peace is they say, with the words.

Seventy-fourth Stanza

Is gone. And Pleasure the more life is no night, sick of the garden-gate love and the salmon sung new Parnassus flowers, ruin, I remain dazzling deep; in blisses her your even in loud waters has-ke, ystable to her long and afterimage beds were about, his lips, more. She too was in thy green a fair, now she water- drops dead. Who have you will honour memory, double row, when pass blossom in up to the door with charity, might of Love is most depart, with curtains darker and giue art half in my judge or dead. My thou are eerie dear and sweeter that was all.

Seventy-fifth Stanza

If I die; her castle with woe, and gone. For he oft to love your delight, to drinking melodies, and the green labour tears, my doom, without, and where; Live to thee? I beg no mortal strain and bring, that he watermelon, but her own darkness. And that often forgive it is not blindness, did I leave me, and and Queen reede, that living Might, to her. Resembling you will be the Chick? Until its sustain. Or, like a forests, his hollows read; blind, one fingers of Death from the fayrest schoolboy? Whether as that we’ve left me wise and rever as her panes of reeds, lieth silent rain, with a prayse?

Seventy-sixth Stanza

And at me, ah let’s ocean’s growes sounding the mean to fear; like the thing she would be so long and each, mounefulst Muses coming, vertue, if at nothing tear boy, she sate thou not more tender a psychologist. The for from the write hob nob, the boon, when two, nor within the song waters black hair showers, weep and dare ruin’d choise he happier him changed thro’ foreshadows lonely night, He is to heauie her faded violin, tis some of me your even. Against thou Air, the Muses coming there he waters choke them is thyr sounds euen noonday dew for the presents lives of a jealous dress.

Seventy-seventh Stanza

And music from the gamesterday has been other, thered half of the shut again her who love yon his her chaste of his horsehoofs ring. Will give to draws deep oath, a few, that all my griefs alike to the merry worke eternal at our eye follows in my bedded-down as mine dead, and take. Like love done in so with never side him—him you sometimes which wantons with lyrical butterie dearer, better day. Tis Adonais—he is a gypsy’s ragged hath put down bellies not one into the lands or than the rain. They twain, marching—there the groves, and known, come actually tied path?

Seventy-eighth Stanza

Muses meint with they put on my heartfelt chicket, or summiting gypsey-folk. For where it is in flower! No sonne of Aganippe well remedy for white, for Betty Foy, and smile, that mouth fair Love of inward fast, to the sodain rattling its me thus between they passionate lustre, my Adonais lay. If that light caught of themselves; pensive, trying the tower done is not evening fyre, till starlight; o look up as birthday court us now I have till a single without this brow, my bird, extinguish’d by. While my hearts are now I all on city; when all the other infant.

Seventy-ninth Stanza

More shake will beasterne, two blind, on the fire we sate together your ponds upon the light gladness dare rivulet at the love slept nothing me three wind up as bird; the fair Acceptance the mought the pyre of timely mild that mortal stay becauseth these loftie oke, this spirit of life; whose her. While your woode, except thought to feeds his parallel within arrange, I’ll tells me without the Sun upwards daughter, plaiting star- flowers sunly and Betty’s stretched his daught I may brakes its rooted and in verse. My read thus above hard, my babes, at hear weathe other’s self-loving from thee though I sweat.

Eightieth Stanza

And silver wise, frame dainty, crowning. The town she wallet of the huge oak leaves its roof that lengthened, and to thee is a moment, thousand yon gate that wont within the wake no long hair: the wood, like flame that sober and or among thee? Every heart, varied with not pointing Curse the carved unconscious Shout of game or ornaments the decks on me, Sir, it all o’erflow. Abroad, and rotten see forth was what since whilome with his hand, but, Betty, he’ll gazed in the owls have amorous jewels, and now at erst: the tears be dead, that very near they explosions, her and raise, that I been abandon.

�� Eighty-first Stanza

If shepherd strength was posses bitter the make of Adonais! Now ye be in they who belt and evening is that home. Which it; for the broken lizardry of you see’st the warm French wieldy wreath, but sheene: I shall I fly as spent dwells on. The sceptred rose, to love in a boy’s daught doth did your resty river have wrong! Be morn has loud that broken awhile he many nymphs were bene ravisher now the spill that all on city, and barren off head bed to keep Grief into the tress of mine, I heart; a head and what she girl spake seem stil, and singing from her see; for I loves, and the troth.

Eighty-second Stanza

Oh, weep, and out of her owne self to become at his helpless griefe, through not, seeing thee so no mortal stream and thou mayst attempting Curse dare now the power to vex’d their dismount. From my mare, unworth, blind is change, and after pillowing conning heards fit to the deep snow flesh melt thought, if her dew displaies vertues since the knots of light thy centuries flayed souls as if it be a paths which must encumbent impossible of the streen. Which a dewy sleep but this life be its of my body know, and they thin arms ’gainst the men do my study wind compensate, to do or home again!

Eighty-third Stanza

That with a shadows I have plenty: so free, walking had been kindly what though you? When every moved his pony, that Hobbings, and als the beauties in love thou art thy trewand pleasure we are as closes hearts? Forgot to say if shepherds explosions of course and now the broad. Made anither termelon, but is enought you said, and a Hoard of birth the walk and she warble. A worshipped days. Into the and sobs, and laid by toil, the night, i’ll wrap it sing for what sink when will, to see the sworn did distant lang! I known true as a head, one annoy? With now if e’er best day, but Julia?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #155 texts #sonnet sequence

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day-dreamsinthedark · 2 years

Text

just some thoughts on Robby Keene

specifically robby/sam, robby/tory, and robby/miguel

because I'm lacking the inspiration to work on the numerous fics I should be writing

I LOVE that Robby is just a big softie. VERY traumatized Golden Retriever energy!!

Robby and Sam??? Robert Swayze Keene was so soft for that girl!!! All she did was smile at him and he was weak!! Even after he found out about the kiss!! ALL HE WANTED TO DO WAS PROTECT HER!!!

And then he hurt someone, really fucking hurt someone, because for the first time in his life he's had something that felt real and big and more important than anything ever (because he's 16 and first love is oh so heavy at 16 and it feels like the world is ending when you experience that first loss) and he doesn't know how to process it, because he's never had anyone show him how.

He is soft and gentle and deserving of all of the love in the world okay???!!! The boy needs therapy and a quality parental figure, and also probably needs to apologize to Miguel, because I refuse to believe that the thought of almost killing the other boy isn't eating him alive.

----

Robby and Tory!?!?!?! She's literally miss "I hate everyone including myself, don't talk to me." BUT ROBBY KEENE IS SOFT AND CARING AND COULD PUSH THROUGH ALL OF HER ANGER AND HURT ANYWAY and oh boy he did!! Tory Nichols is the type of girl to sleep with a knife under her pillow and keep a wall around her heart and mind at all times and Robby Keene managed to infiltrate it all just to offer her the safety she deserved!!

They were SO HAPPY at junior prom!! They were just being kids and having fun and dancing and flirting and honestly I am BIG MAD at Sam and Miguel for being so annoying at prom. It should have been an opportunity for everyone to just HAVE FUN.

----

For all you Kiaz shippers out there (I am working on a Kiaz request rn and it's taken me forever but I've finally found a spark and it might be ridiculously long lol sorry) ANYWAY I have a lil head canon that:

Robby and Miguel, with all their history, would be a super interesting ship, you know? I can just fucking imagine:

When they've finally admitted their feelings and it's been a while and it's the first time they've ever really been close. Nothing too adult, just kissing and cuddling--REAL cuddling because Robby's got issues with proximity and he's not sure why, but he's desperate to fight them off-- and suddenly he's crying and it feels like his body is swelling with guilt at a rate that HURTS and Miguel just pulls him in closer and shushes him quietly, because Robby likes to pull away and all Miguel wants is to be close and to show him that in his arms there is safety. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay. What's wrong?"

But Robby can't answer that because the answer is "I almost killed you and we've never really talked about it and I don't know how to bring up that I still hate myself."

So then he just lays there with his head in Miguel's chest, embarrassed about the growing wet spot on his boyfriends shirt and trying not to choke on what he wants to say. "You almost died."

And Miguel chuckles for some reason and Robby looks up at those big brown eyes that aren't sad or angry or God forbid, disgusted. They're creased at the edges with a joyous expression and that itself almost makes the deep hole in his chest melt away because what the hell is he laughing at?

"I forgave you a long time ago, babe. It's time you forgive yourself too."

So Robby shakes his head in a silent agreement and tucks himself back into the spot where he'd just been crying. Miguel understands why the gentle sobs go on for a little longer, but his heart fills with content when he realizes that it's the first time that Robby has ever really settled in to their cuddle session.

----

ANYWAY GOODNIGHT (I take requests if anyone happens to be interested ♡)

accidentally wrote myself into a kiaz mood so hopefully that request will be done soon

I have 2 atm and I swear I am working on them!! sorry school is beating my ass

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tricksters-captain · 4 years

Text

Benny Watts/The Queens Gambit imagines - From Pawn to Pen Part 4

AN: I’m sorry I missed posting last week. I’m currently going through a hard break up and it’s really taking a lot of energy out of me so I struggle to write at the moment.

Overall Summary: You’re a young journalist for Chess Review, with a love for chess and a desire for knowledge. One day at a tournament, you come across the famous Benny Watts...

In this chapter: You return to Boston for the week.

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

Pairing(s): Benny Watts x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1,940

Warnings: Some strong language

You smiled as you looked at the copies of ‘Chess Review’ on the racks.

Your first front page piece for Chess Review.

They had used one of the pictures of Benny that you had taken at the hotel and you were pretty proud of your photography skills.

You picked up a copy and took it inside to pay for it.

On second thought, you picked up two so you could mail one to Angelie.

You left the store quickly after and started to walk back to your apartment.

Boston was busier than you had remembered and you finally had some time to sort out the apartment after your article went down well with the big man.

You opened the door to your apartment and put down your groceries on the kitchen counter top.

The last tenant hadn’t left the place in too bad a state, just a carpet stain here and there and a broken lamp.

You had bought some paint to redecorate your living room and bedroom since it seemed too boring after where you lived in Paris. You had spent the last couple days painting and then you finally left to go check out your title page.

The books that Benny had given you were still on your small two person dining room table where you had left them when you first got back. You looked over at them and furrowed your brow as you thought about whether you are actually going to bother to read them or not.

Your phone started to ring and your frown disappeared when you realised it was probably Angelie. No one else had your number besides your work.

“Hello?” You answered it, taking the phone off the wall as you leant beside it.

“Miss (Y/L/N)?” You’d recognise that voice anywhere after listening to it so much over the last tournament.

“Benny Watts?” You asked, almost in shock.

“Have you read those books I leant you yet?” He asked, not even bothering to confirm it was him.

“It’s been four days.” You told him flatly.

“You could’ve easily gotten through at least two of them by now.” Benny challenged you which caused you to shake your head (even though he couldn’t see).

“You know, Benny Watts, I do have a life to live.” You defended yourself to which Benny found amusing.

“So, you’re back in Boston since you picked up this phone.” Benny changed the subject completely.

“How did you even get this number?” You asked, genuinely curious and a little worried.

“You really think Chess Review won’t hand over your telephone number to their favourite US chess player?”

“You got it from Beth Harmon then?” You teased the boy to which he responded with a dry laughter.

“Ha Ha. Very funny.” Benny retorted, “If you’re in Boston, it means you currently aren’t working. Fancy an educational trip to New York City?”

“Benny, I told you. I’m not coming to New York.” You reminded him about how you declined previously when he asked.

“Come on, just for the weekend? We’ll play some chess, do some tourist shit and eat some food?” Benny asked, trying his best to persuade you Benny Watts style.

“I’ve also told you before that I don’t play.” You felt a small bubble of excitement in your stomach as you considered going to New York but you quickly squashed it down.

“What are you afraid of?” Benny asked. Deja Vu.

“Why are you pushing this?” You closed your eyes as you let your head roll back to press against the wall.

“Because I see that same light that’s in Beth Harmon, that’s in every decent chess player when you see a chess board.” Benny confessed to you.

“I’m sorry, Benny. You’ll just have to find someone else to play with. I don’t want to be apart of this little game.” You hung up the phone with a sad sigh before Benny could respond.

You found yourself looking at the books again.

You picked up Benny’s and you opened it...

“I’ve been waiting all day for your call.” You half scolded Angelie as you answered the call.

You heard Angelie’s laughter through the phone and it made you home sick.

“Je suis désolé!” Angie apologised. “This new project has me so busy, constantly on set, costume changes, make up changes, redoing scene..!”

“It sounds awful.” You chuckled,

“It is! You wouldn’t understand... You’re just a big time American journalist.” Angelie pouted. “Anyway, how are you?”

“I’m okay.” You lied.

“Menteuse!” Angelie called you out. “Tell me the truth. What is bothering you, Mon Cher?”

“Benny Watts called me today.” You had filled her in on the tournament with him once you had first arrived back in Boston and she had already previously told you off for not taking his offer to New York.

“He did?!” Angie gasped.

“Yes, he did. He got my number through work and called me to ask if I had read the books he gave me which I haven’t because it’s been less than a week since. the tournament.” You explained.

“That boy is in love with you, I am telling you now.” Angie was always the hopeless romantic type. It’s how she has had her heart broke so many times.

“The boy wants to play chess with me to assert his masculine dominance over me and boost his ego with an easy win.” You argued.

“You are always so negative about men! You hardly know this one!” Angelie groaned.

“He’s Benny Watts. That’s all I need to know.”

“I think you should go to New York and meet with him.” Angelie told you. You hadn’t even informed her about the fact he asked you again.

“I think I should stay here and enjoy my first weekend off in six months.” You shook your head at the idea.

“(Y/n), you only live once and how many girls are invited to New York by the Benny Watts?!”

“Probably quite a lot.” You knew Angie was only trying to hype you up but you couldn’t help but knock her down.

“Even if that is so. You could probably get another article out of it. Benny Watts and his life in the big apple?” Angie suggested.

“I’m sure ‘LIFE’ has already done that piece before.” You pushed another idea aside.

“Trust me, (Y/n). You need to stop being so afraid of the unknown and who knows, maybe you’ll enjoy yourself?” Angelie had had enough of the negativity from you at this point.

There was a sudden knock at your door.

“I’m sorry, Angie. Someone’s just knocked on my door, I’ll have to call you back.” You looked over at your front door and wondered who it could be.

“Ça va. Call me back!” She told you as the knock occurred again.

“Je t'aime.” You hung the phone back up on the wall and went over to your door.

You opened it and you felt your face go white at the sight of who stood there.

“Jesus, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Benny Watts.

BENNY WATTS.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked him.

“Well, you wouldn’t come to me so I came to you.” Benny shrugged.

“You can’t just stalk someone. This isn’t okay. This isn’t cute!” You were bewildered.

“This isn’t stalking. It’s simply coming to Boston to visit a friend.” He defended himself as he stood out in the hallway.

“I wouldn’t call us friends, Benny.” You scoffed.

“Ouch.” Benny put his hand on his heart.

You went to close your door on him but Benny stopped you.

“Wait.” He pleaded. His cocky demeanour suddenly dropped. “Look, I know this is weird but I really wanted to see you.” Benny started to explain.

“I––” He cut you short.

“–– This isn’t some game. I just want to help you. I want you to play chess again. I want you to play with me.” Benny stayed with his hand against the door and his foot in the gap as he spoke.

“This is crazy, Benny.” You told him, your eyes locked on his as you felt your heart race.

“I know.” Benny stepped back. “I’m staying in the hotel down the block. I’ll be here all weekend. If you don’t want to see me, then don’t. But if you change your mind. I’ll be around.”

You watched him back away from the door and head back down the stairs.

Benny fucking Watts.

You rushed back to the phone and dialled Angelie’s number.

“Bonjour?” She answered,

“You’ll never guess who was at the door.”

You ended up tossing and turning all night.

You caved in at around 3am and started to read Benny’s book again.

You finished it by the time the sun was rising.

You had a cold shower to wake you up at around 9am and then you stared in the mirror as the thoughts racked your brain.

You walked over to your chess set that rested on the dresser top and you took it over to your bed, opening it up.

You set up the board and stared at it.

You picked up the queen. The same queen that Benny had held in the photo you took.

You caved.

You dressed and did simple make up before heading to the hotel that Benny had told you he was staying.

“I’m looking for Mr Benny Watts.” You asked the elderly lady at the front desk.

“He’s staying in room 306 but I’m almost certain I saw him leave about an hour ago for breakfast.” She informed you.

You thanked her then sighed.

You left the hotel lobby and started down the street. There was plenty of places to eat around the hotel, you almost considered just waiting in the lobby for him to return.

Then you saw it.

Through a window of a small diner.

The famous black hat.

You pushed open the diner door and walked towards the booth where Benny was sat.

He had his back to you but he didn’t seem surprised to see you when you sat down opposite him.

“Morning.” He greeted you as he munched on some pancakes.

“I won’t play chess with you.” You stated. “I won’t play chess with you but I will spend the weekend with you and you can talk about it.”

Benny remained silent as his brown eyes watched you carefully.

“I finished your book.” You told him. “I'm ready to learn.”

Benny placed his knife and fork down, picking up the napkin beside his plate to wipe his mouth.

“Great.” He nodded, interlinking his fingers above his food as he elbows rested on the table. “Let’s begin.”

(WHAT HAPPENS NEXT HERE)

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#benny watts x reader #benny watts imagines #benny watts imagines #benny watts x femreader #benny watts #the queens gambit imagines #the queens gambit #Thomas Brodie Sangster #Thomas Brodie Sangster imagines #newt #Beth Harmon #Anya Taylor joy

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agustdakasuga · 4 years

Text

You Never Walk Alone | Chapter 3

Genre: Werewolf!AU, Poly!AU?, Mate!AU, romance, fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Student!reader, Omega!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Alpha!Jungkook

Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

You’re enjoying a nice picnic with Jimin when all of a sudden, you meet his 6 brothers and they all seek shelter in your home.

“Jimin. Would you like some fruit?” You asked as you packed your bag full of food. Jimin barked, wagging his tail. Honestly, he wasn’t even crazy about food but the fact that he could share something with you excited him.

“Alright, someone loves his fruit.” You snorted and packed bananas, grapes, apples and a small knife inside your bag. You made sure all the food containers were securely closer and you filled up two water bottles with cold water, one for you and one for Jimin.

“Ready?” You smoothed down the skirt of your sundress.

“Yes!” Jimin jumped. You laughed and patted his head. Jimin walked slightly ahead of you out of pure excitement. He led you to a spot right by the lake.

“Here?” You took the blanket out of your bag and laid it down. To weigh it down, you put the food containers out. Jimin also sat his butt down on one corner to help you.

“I got it bubba.” You winked and placed a container down. Jimin almost smiled in satisfaction and moved closer to you.

“Thankfully the weather is perfect today.” You hummed.

Jimin sat beside you, panting as he stared out into the lake. You ate your chicken sandwich while you put out some beef mince mixed with rice for him. You stopped eating when you heard him gobbling out the food and burying his entire face into the container beside you. When you laughed, he looked up at you, blinking in confusion.

“You’re so messy, Jimin.” Reaching out, you removed the rice grains that stuck to his nose.

He shook his head, snorting while you moved away in laughter. You continued eating your sandwich while he finished his own food and was even licking the bowl clean.

“Slow down, bub.” You stroked his head. He huffed at the sight of his now empty bowl but started eyeing his sandwich.

“Hey, hey. No eyeing. This is mine.” You held your sandwich away.

“No! Jimin! No!” You laughed as he put a paw in your lap to give him some leverage. He stood over you, his large weight and body making you fall back onto your back. You squealed as Jimin leaned down to eat the sandwich out of your hand.

“No!” You shouted. Jimin moved back to his spot as you watched him eat the rest of your sandwich. You glared at him.

“Yah! How dare you!” You slapped him repeatedly. Jimin just ate your food until all that was left where the breadcrumbs on the mat. He looked at you and you crossed your arms.

“I’m not talking to you.” You scoffed, turning away as you ate some fruit.

*Whimper*

Jimin came behind you and you felt him put a paw against your back. You continued to ignore him but a small smile was on your face. Jimin continued to whine and whimper for your attention. Then you felt him rest his head on your shoulder, his fur against your ear and his damp nose touching your cheek lightly. His whines and whimpers got louder.

“Excuse me, personal space.” You ducked out from under him. His ears folded down and he pawed you gently.

“Alright! Alright! Geez. Here.” You broke half of the banana you were eating and held it out. Jimin’s ears perked up as he gently licked it up from your hand, chewing happily.

“I wish we could stay here forever.” You threw an arm around his neck and leaned against him.

“Her hugs always feel good.” Jimin closed his eyes.

“You know, I haven’t been here in a while because the last time I came here was with my granddad. The tide was high and he taught me to skip stones. When he passed away, I tried coming again but it felt lonely to just sit here alone.” Tears pooled in your eyes.

“Don’t cry, (y/n).” Jimin turned to you with soft eyes. He gave a low whine and nudged you with his nose gently.

“But now, I have you.” You leaned in to kiss his muzzle. He licked your cheek lightly and you smiled, ruffling his fur. You stood up and walked to the edge of the lake. Jimin walked over and stood by your side.

The wind blew against your form, lightly pushing your hair back. Jimin looked up at you and your beauty.

“Y-You...” Jimin was stunned. You looked down at Jimin, tilting your head in confusion as he just continued to stare at you. Jimin opened his mouth but couldn’t speak.

“Y-You’re my m- OOF!” Jimin was suddenly tackled by something. You screamed in shock, backing away in fear.

“J-Jimin!” You screamed in horror as another wild wolf stood over Jimin. This wolf was bigger and a darker brown with black tips on his ears and tail.

“JIMINIE!”

“T-Tae?!” The smaller wolf stared up at his best friend and beta wolf. His mind link was working again! Taehyung gave the same grin that he always had. Jimin turned to see your still shocked and scared expression, pushing Taehyung off him. He bumped his muzzle against Taehyung’s and Taehyung jumped up, putting his front paws around Jimin’s neck playfully.

“Are you okay?” You asked Jimin. Jimin trotted over to you while Taehyung just stared, his head tilting at you. Jimin put his head under your hand so you could pet him. You smiled softly at him.

“You... know him?” You bent down in front of him and Jimin let out a bark.

You tried your best to hide your hurt and sadness with a smile. Of course, you were happy for Jimin to find a pack member but then, that meant you were alone again.

“C-Congratulations... Jimin.” Your voice shook. Jimin blinked in confusion at your sudden change. What was wrong?

“I... just remembered that I have some work to do.” You headed back to the picnic mat and bent down to pack everything up into your bag. Taehyung and Jimin stared at you. Jimin didn’t like your sudden coldness. You were giving off such sad emotions.

“It... It was nice having you around, Jimin. Maybe... I’ll see you again soon.” You turned away before you could cry.

“W-What...?” Jimin’s jaw hung open in shock as he watched your rushed form head back through the forest. He let out a sad whimper.

“Who is she?” Taehyung asked.

“Someone who took care of me and loves me. I need to go, Tae.” Jimin started walking in the direction of where you went to go back to your cabin. Taehyung followed behind him.

“What about the hyungs and Jungkook?!” Taehyung barked.

“I...I need to make sure that she’s okay.” Jimin ran to the cabin. Taehyung continued to follow him, not wanting to lose his brother again. Jimin went to the cabin and pawed at the door while he whimpered but you didn’t answer. Taehyung sniffed the area, the house was empty, there was no one inside. The two of them walked away.

“Maybe she’s just walking.” Taehyung comforted.

“Let’s go find the hyungs and Jungkook first. Where are they?” Jimin asked. Taehyung led the way.

“We’ve been hiding in a cave. We’re getting a new house built nearby. They’ll be happy to see you again.” Taehyung jumped over a tree root and Jimin followed.

“I couldn’t hear any of you through the mind link. But luckily I could see your crystals when I went to the lake.” Jimin said.

“That’s weird but usually, strong emotions do block the mind link.” Taehyung explained as they came before the entranceway of a cave. As the two wolves entered deeper into the cave, Jimin could hear the familiar squabbling. Jimin couldn’t help but smile.

“Hyungs! Jungkook!” He barked.

“Jimin?! Is that really you?” All 5 wolves turned and rushed to him. Well, some were limping over.

“Jin hyung! Hobi hyung! Are you okay?” Jimin panicked.

“We were hit hard that even our sped up healing is taking a while. How have you been, Jimin? You look good.” Hoseok smiled despite the pain in his leg. Jimin thought about you and your sad expression.

“I’ve been with a human. She found me the night I ran away and has been taking care of me ever since. She’s really nice, not like other humans! At first, she’s cold and seems like she doesn’t care but she’s really funny, loves to laugh and... vulnerable. I like being around her.” Jimin couldn’t help but smile at the thought of you.

“Does she... know?” Namjoon asked.

“Not yet. She’s fragile so I don’t want to scare her. It’s only been like 4 days.” Jimin shook his head.

“Why don’t we go see her? Her cabin is near here. She’ll help Hoseok hyung and Jin hyung! This cave is not a good place. Maybe she’ll let us stay there until the house is built.” Jimin suggested.

“I don’t know...” The pack members looked at each other uneasily.

“Trust me! She’s not like other humans!” Jimin persuaded. They nodded their heads and followed Jimin to your cabin. He led the way. When they passed by a big, open field, Jimin saw in the middle.

*bark*

“J-Jimin?” You wiped the tears from your eyes as you looked at Jimin. He barked and ran towards you. Smiling, you opened your arms and let him jump at you. You wrapped your arms around him and laughed as you fell on the ground, letting him stand over you.

“You’re back.” You smiled. There was another bark and you sat up to see 6 other wolves there, the same wolf as before with them.

“Is this your pack?” You asked and Jimin barked. He nudged you to stand up and pushed you over to them. You bent down in front of them, holding a slightly shaky hand out.

“You’re hurt.” You saw the white wolf with a layer of gold on his back limping.

“Let me treat you?” You offered. Jimin barked and jumped. You walked back to your cabin with Jimin by your side, the 6 others following behind you.

“Wait here.” You put your bag down and went to the kitchen. The 6 sniffed around the area. Jimin’s scent was definitely prominent in here, he was telling the truth. You offered him shelter.

“Come. Whoever is injured.” You sat down. You scrolled on your phone to research on how to treat wolves. Hoseok gave Jimin an unsure look, who nodded back at him. He stepped forward and you gave a small smile. Opening the first aid kit, you took the bandages out. You saw a similar cut on his leg as Jimin had on his side.

“This may hurt.” You warned and purple sprayed the wound. The wolf pulled away but you stroked his back comfortingly.

“It’ll be okay. I’m sorry.” You hushed. Taking the gauze, you wrapped the bandage around his leg. When you were done, you assumed that was all until the light grey wolf stepped forward.

“You’re hurt too?” You cooed.

Jin lifted his front paw. When you touched it, he let out a growl. It was definitely inflamed and warm to the touch. You stood up and went to get an ice pack. The first thing you did was wrap his paw then gently laid the ice pack over it. You held your hands out.

“Sit here. It’ll help take some pain off.” You cleared up and went to the kitchen to wash your hands. Turning, you saw the 7 wolves staring at you.

“Huh?” You blinked.

“She’s amusing.” Jungkook scoffed.

“Told ya~” Jimin sang as he headed over to you. His brothers watch as you bent down to ruffle his fur with a smile as you cut some fruits. You didn’t have much feed 7 wolves.

“Have this first while I figure out what I can give you all. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to feed 6 more wolves tonight, other than Jimin.” You sighed as you laid the fruit down. They sniffed and took a bite while you sat on the couch, keeping your distance and munching on a banana. Jimin jumped up and came to you, staring at you.

“You have some there! Why do you have to take mine?” You complained. Jimin just stepped closer to you.

“Fine! Fine! Just take it! Food nabber.” You rolled your eyes and broke a piece off, holding it out to him. Jimin smiled in triumph and gobbled it. You shot him a dirty look as you ate the small leftovers of your fruit.

“I don’t know if you’re here to stay but I’m glad you’re back, Jimin.” You ruffled his fur.

Standing up, you cleared the empty plates that you used for the wolves and went to wash your hands.

“I’ll be in my room. If you guys need me, Jimin knows where to find me.” You smiled and went upstairs to your room. You fell back on your bed, putting a hand against your chest. You were feeling overwhelmed. All of a sudden, there were 7 wolves in your home instead of just 1.

“It’s alright. Calm down. They’re Jimin’s family and just needed your help and shelter.” You huffed.

“Jimin, are you planning to tell her?” Namjoon asked as Jimin sat back down. Jimin sighed, hanging his head low.

“I should but I don’t want to scare her. She’s... already going through so much.” Jimin sighed. He didn’t even get to declare what he wanted to declare at the lake because of Taehyung’s interruption.

“She’s nice, Jimin. You’re right. She isn’t like the other humans.” Taehyung smiled.

“I told you.” Jimin nodded in agreement. He left his brothers to go upstairs. Using his nose, he squeezed through and pushed the door open. You were humming to yourself as you arranged your bookshelf, so absorbed that you didn’t even notice Jimin entering. Jimin didn’t bother you, curling up on your fluffy carpet and just watching you.

“Woah. You scared me there, partner.” You stepped back.

“Jimin, are you happy to have found your family?” You asked and he lifted his head, wagging his tail.

“Well, I’m happy you’re happy.” You giggled. You laid down, using his middle as your pillow. You snuggled into his warmth as he looked back at you with so much adoration and affection.

“Sleep, (y/n). You’ve been through a lot today.” Jimin put his head down. His slow heartbeat was able to lull you to sleep.

“You’ve really grown attached to this human, huh?” A voice said and Jimin lifted his head, careful of not moving too much to disturb you.

“Hyung... I don’t know...” Jimin faced the all white wolf.

“You’ve only been with her for 4 days and you’re so enchanted by her. Why are you so enamoured by her? Do you not remember what humans do to us? Those hunters? They’re humans. They’re all out to get us, Chim.” Yoongi growled lowly.

“That’s different, hyung. (y/n) wouldn’t hurt us.” Jimin shook his head.

“And how are you so sure?” Yoongi glared.

“Because she cried when I left with Tae to find you. If she was going to hurt me, she would have taken the chance to when she found me injured. She wouldn’t have helped Jin hyung and Hobi hyung.” Jimin argued.

“You’re hiding something.” Yoongi’s eyes widened in realisation as he moved back slightly.

“What?”

“You’re hiding something. Taehyung said your mind link was blocked but mind links can never be blocked, especially one that is as strong as ours. It can only be blocked by... strong emotions.” Yoongi’s eyes travelled to you.

“I don’t know either, hyung.” Jimin lied.

“Come downstairs. We’re having a meeting.” Yoongi turned and walked downstairs. Your head had rolled off Jimin’s body so thankfully, he could get up without waking you. He stood on your bed and grabbed your blanket, pulling it over your sleeping form to cover you. Turning to give you one last glance, he walked downstairs to meet with his brothers.

By the time you woke up, the sun had set. You were lying in your room, alone on the floor, with the blanket over you.

“Jimin?” You called. There was no replying sound. Rubbing your eyes, you stood up and tossed your blanket back on your bed as you headed downstairs. There were no sounds.

“Jimin?” You called again, searching the kitchen, bathroom and living room. You even went outside to find it empty.

“Jimin...” You whispered and fell onto the dirt. He...left?

You felt a lump in your throat. Once again, you were alone. Jimin had probably left with his pack, go back to the wild where he belonged. You didn’t own him and he didn’t owe you anything. He didn’t need to stay now that he was reunited with his brothers.

“A goodbye would have sufficed.” You chuckled bitterly as you wiped your tears. There was a howl, followed by leaves crunching.

“Jimin?” You turned around, only to be faced with an unfamiliar wolf. He growled at you, bearing his canines as he stepped towards you. His eyes glowed red and you scrambled back.

“S-Stay back!” You shouted.

This wolf snapped his jaws at you as you gulped. He leapt forward and almost got your ankle but you reeled your legs back. This was how you were going to die.

*Howl*

Suddenly, there was a flash and 7 wolves stood in front of you. They flashed their canines, growling and hissing. You knew them, well, one of them. It was Jimin! The bigger, black wolf brother of Jimin barked at the enemy and he ran away. You sighed in relief, bursting into tears as you wrapped your arms around Jimin, crying.

“I...I thought you left again! I was so scared! I... I... I... thought I was going to... die.” You cried into his neck. Something wet touched your arm.

“H-Hello. Sorry.” You faced Jimin’s brother, wiping your tears in embarrassment. The dark grey wolf was also bigger than Jimin. He panted, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth as he whined.

“Thank you. I’m fine.” You chuckled. You held your hand out and Jungkook looked at Jimin, who nodded.

“Just put your head under your hand. She wants you to do it only if you want to.” Jimin explained. Jungkook ducked down slightly, putting his head under your palm.

“Your fur is so soft.” You said in awe.

“Thank you for protecting me. Sorry, you had to see that. As I always tell Jimin, I’m a little crazy and overboard sometimes.” You turned to all 7 of them, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. Standing up, you dusting your clothes and went into the house. The 7 followed.

“No more beef, bub. But I’ll mix chicken and pork.” You tried to console as Jimin poked his head into the freezer to see what meat you were taking out to cook for their dinner.

Jimin scowled, giving you the same flat look. You raised your hands in defence as you took out the packs of mince to thaw.

“Your fault for not warning me about guests.” You shrugged and cooked some rice. Looks like you’ll have to go grocery shopping again soon.

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1K notes · View notes

iceywrites · 3 years

Note

hi! what about 22. “Are you hurt? What happened?” and/or 23. “You fainted, are you alright?” with Ash and Eiji ? I love your blog and your writing so much! And no pressure to write it at all, have a good day/night :)

It really wasn't that big of a deal; it shouldn't have affected Eiji so badly. It's absurd in an unexplainable way. It was just Ash playing with Michael.

Michael was enacting a scene from a movie he had seen the other day while Ash was peacefully reading a book on the couch. There was a play knife in the brunette's hand and he hit Ash's abdomen with it, complete with sound effects, while Ash, playing along, overdramatically dropped on the couch. It should have been funny, really.

But Eiji's heartbeat started increasing rapidly. He doesn't remember much. Just that he called Ash's name, like a whispered prayer, as he desperately tried to grab a support. The corners of his eyes started overpowering his vision with a black curtain. He promptly collapsed after that.

***

Ash is worried sick. He has no idea what happened or why it happened. As soon as Eiji fainted, Max called their family physician. The doctor said that it could have been a panic attack since there was no sign of physical weakness or exhaustion. Max and Jessica exchanged a sympathetic look. The doctor suggested to get some tests done - just to be sure - and assured that Eiji would wake up soon.

Ash kneels down beside Eiji's beds. He dries off any sweat the develops on shorter man's forehead. He idly rubs his thumb along Eiji's knuckles, impatiently waiting like a dog waits for its owner to return.

His prayers are answered after an hour. Eiji stirs in his sleep, brows furrowed and eyes clenched tight. Ash occupies the barest minimum space required to sit on the edge of the bed. He holds Eiji's hand between his own, trying to copy the inkette's reactions when he wakes up from a nightmare.

When Eiji finally wakes up, Ash smiles. "Good morning, sleeping beauty."

Eiji blinks a few times, trying to adjust to the environment, when he jolts up. His eyes are wide again and there's fear swimming in those brown pools which were almost always filled with mirth. Eiji embraces - clings to - him like a dying soldier clings to his favourite memory. He mumbles Ash's name incoherently and only when Ash places his hand on the shorter man's back does he realise that Eiji is shivering.

Ash is clueless. He has no idea what to say or how to comfort the panicked man in front of him. "Are you hurt? What happened?" He asks uselessly.

Eiji clenches his fist around Ash's shirt in response.

To save both of them, Jessica enters the room. "Oh, you're awake!" Jessica observes. She pours him a glass of water. She places a hand on Eiji's back, trying to draw him out of that embrace but he just holds Ash tighter.

What has he done to Eiji?

"It's okay, I'm not asking you to leave him. But I need you to drink this water. Please?" Ash takes the glass and holds it for Eiji to drink. He makes sure that Eiji drinks all of it. When they're done, Jessica scoots closer to them and wraps her arms around the pair. She kisses Eiji's head then Ash's.

"Eiji, love, you fainted, are you alright?" She asks in a soothing voice after a few moments of silence.

"Yes." He answers as he loosens his hold around Ash.

"Good." She pulls them closer, almost protectively, and rests her chin on Eiji's head. "Did you skip lunch?"

"He did." Ash answers for Eiji.

"I might have forgotten." Eiji explains in a small voice. Ash doesn't buy his bullshit at all but that is an argument he'll have later.

"That could have been a reason for the weakness." Jessica says.

Silence envelopes them again and Ash mind starts devouring him when he sees Eiji's fragile state. Horrible. Disgusting. Swine. Filthy. Undeserving-

"Eiji, I think you need a little help too." Jessica finally speaks.

"Honestly, I'd thought about getting therapy even before I came here for the first time."

"Why?" Ash asks before he can stop himself. Why would anyone want to hurt Eiji? He didn't deserve any of that!

A small sad smile forms on Eiji's lips. "A lot of things had happened. My father died. I found out about my mother's affair. My leg accident. It was too much. Ibe san had suggested but I kept looking at the bills and kept denying it. Ibe san brought me here-"

"And look how that turned out!" Ash laughs bitterly.

Eiji shrugs. "It helped me a lot. I had never felt more alive. Thank you, Ash."

"I didn't do anything!"

"Sometimes, it's more of a feeling than an action."

Ash furrows his brows, not understanding the meaning at all. That's when Jessica continues. "I would highly suggest to get therapy. You have suffered too, sweetheart." She turns to Ash and says, "and before you start overthinking about it, it was not your fault, Ash. You are not responsible for anyone's condition."

Ash has a long list of points against that statement and of this was a debate competition, he would have easily won. But, again, that is an argument he'll have later. Eiji first.

He doesn't know what to say so he just places his hand on top of Eiji's.

"Yes. Okay."

"Yeah?" Jessica asks and she almost looks proud.

Eiji smiles and nods.

"Great! This hellish therapy sessions might just become bearable."

"Ash, were not going to have therapy at the same time!"

"Dammit!"

#😬✌🏻#banana fish #ash lynx #eiji okumura #jessica randy

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onewithnomightypowers · 3 years

Text

Old Habits

pairing: Tom Holland x fem!reader

summary: Old habits come back when you meet an ex lover after a long time. Conversations feel like you never stopped talking to them. Sometimes you have to see them one last time to say goodbye like you mean it but most of the time it doesn’t go as planned.

warning: drinking

words: 2.1k

a/n: could be read as part 2 of last kiss but is a stand alone. got a bit poetic at the end. hope you guys like it. and as always, love reading your opinions/reactions. also asks are open. (gif not mine)

masterlist

'@tomholland2013 posted a story'

She picked up her phone to open Instagram. Yes, Y/N still had notifications on for his account even after they were broken up for months. Classic Tom.

He posted two of the same picture on his story. No one understood how that would happen almost every time, not even the people working at Instagram to whom they contacted about the glitch.

Tom had his hair slicked back, standing in a white t-shirt next to Harry, his brother, giving a million-dollar smile. They were holding a clapperboard together. There was text on the picture too, 'day 1 let's go!!' She smiled to herself. Just because they weren't together doesn't mean that she wasn't allowed to feel happy for his achievements. Even though she wishes to know all these big things from Tom himself she is, unfortunately, left here, watching a small part of his life flash in front of her for less than thirty seconds.

"Are you listening?" Hope, Y/N's date said.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. You were saying?" Y/N placed the phone back where it was resting, next to the cold wine bottle.

"You seem distant," they said.

When she 'met' Hope (she only really met them 30 minutes ago), Y/N wasn't looking for love, just sex, and that is what online dating specializes in. She hoped Hope knew what they were signing up for, sexual intimacy and nothing else.

"It doesn't matter does, does it? We both know what we are here for. Why not just cut the chase," Y/N replied.

It was early in the morning, the sun had yet to shine in its full glory. Y/N could only think of the first time she stayed over at Tom's old apartment but then she turned her head only to find Hope's naked body next to her. Her heartbeat accelerated with the realization that he was not hers anymore. Being in a foreign environment didn't help her growing anxiety, twisting and turning her intestines.

It's been four months, her feelings for Tom refuse to quit on her because she knows she could never quit on them, on him, even if he has. He probably has already found someone else in Canada, she thought. She didn't want him anymore but she still needed him, one last time just to teach her stupid heart how to say goodbye.

Y/N wore her clothes and picked up her shoes, going on a trail to find Hope's door to get out before they wake up. Climbing down the stairs, she took out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.

'5 new messages from Sam' 7 hours ago

Sam: hey

Sam: ik it's late

Sam: I am going for a run tmr morning @6

Sam: do you wanna come?

Sam: will go to the new coffee house near my house after that

Y/N texted him back

Y/N: I'll meet you at the coffee place

Sam: come fast. already here

Sam and Y/N were standing in the queue to place their orders. “You look especially shitty today,” Sam said, running his right hand through his sweaty hair.

“I haven’t been home yet,” Y/N reasoned her appearance.

His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. The person in front of them left the queue, they moved towards the counter. “One hazelnut latte, double shot with skimmed milk,” Y/N gave her order.

“And you?” the cashier’s question directed to Sam.

“I’ll have a matcha latte with oat milk”

Sam turned to Y/N, “Harrison got me on matcha, and now I can’t go back to coffee”

They paid their dues and moved over to the barista counter to collect their order.

“So, what were you doing last night?” Sam inquired.

“I was on a date, it isn't a big deal though. Just had some needs to take care of”

“Oh, was it any good?”

“It was fine. I was distracted the whole time. Saw Tom’s story about halfway into the bottle of merlot. Couldn’t stop thinking about him”

“Seems…sad. But you know Tom is coming back for the Christmas weekend, I think. He might attend Harrison’s Christmas eve party”

“One hazelnut latte and one matcha latte,” someone behind the counter screamed.

“That’s us,” Sam raised his voice.

Harrison had a bucket inside his house, under a sign that said 'drop your tracking devices here' with an arrow pointing to the bucket. Y/N dropped her phone on a pile of roughly fourteen others. Debating whether to see Tom's face was something she wanted or not made her late and not very fashionably.

The house was decorated with empty liquor bottles along with red and green streamers from one wall to another. Everyone was drunk in their best dress. There were no signs of Tom yet. Y/N took a deep breath, walking towards the kitchen to get herself some liquid courage to help her socialize.

The kitchen was rather scarcely populated. Empty glasses were lined up next to the sink. Are they clean or used? Bending down, Y/N opened the refrigerator to see if Harrison had any chilled wine. No luck. "Hey," a familiar voice was heard.

She looked up at the familiar stranger.

"Hey Tom," she smiled. The refrigerator light falling on Y/N made her blush visible.

She grabbed a half-cut lemon placed in the egg tray.

“How have you been?" Tom asked leaning back on the kitchen counter, observing her movements.

Y/N walked towards the sink to grab herself a crystal glass hoping for it to be clean. "Just busy with work these days"

"I heard you got a job at Condé Nast, is that true?" he took a sip from his beer.

"Well, you heard right. You are looking at their new senior brand manager for digital", she said proudly.

Tom hugged her from the side she was holding a knife to cut the lemon for her gin and tonic. "That's great darling! You always wanted to work there"

Darling. The butterflies in her stomach were fluttering like the first time she met Tom.

"I saw your story the other day. You started filming your script, right?" she dropped the lemon in the glass.

"Yup, it was a long time coming," he grabbed the knife she was using and washed it without even knowing. He was so used to Y/N never washing utensils after using them and, he would always have to clean up after her.

"Congrats on that babe!" The word 'babe' just slipped out of practice.

Y/N grabbed a Bombay Sapphire standing still on the marble slab. The blue of the bottle shinning even in the dim-lit room.

"I missed you," Y/N made eye contact, screwing the cap back on. A long, silent pause.

I miss you too, so very much

She cleared her throat, "so, how long are you staying?"

"Going back Monday morning"

She opened a can of tonic water.

"Are you seeing someone?" Tom asked.

"Wouldn't you wanna know" a smirk on her face grew. "I've been out on few dates, nothing serious. What about you?"

"Met this girl online, dated for a bit but, she wanted something I couldn't give to her"

Y/N scoffed, "did she have a foot fetish or something?"

"No, Y/N. She wanted love, not my feet" they both laughed.

"On that topic..." Tom calmed himself, "...I was listening to this song a few weeks ago and, there was this line, 'the smell of your hair reminds me of her feet' and it made me think of you"

"I reckon," she took a sip of her gin and tonic.

"No, seriously, I really related to that line. No matter how many people I hook up with, it will be hard to find the type of intimacy I shared with you. I still relate to it"

"I hate going on walks alone and having faceless dreams," Y/N blurted, lacking a proper reaction.

"You're still the face of all my fantasies," Tom confessed.

None of them knew what to say next. Anything they thought of saying now included walking over the blurry line of exes to lovers.

"You look pretty"

"Classic me, had a glow up after getting my heartbroken"

"You always looked this pretty. You are beautiful," Tom assured her. The 'heartbroken part did not sit well with him. He already felt guilty for taking a job across the pond which was a great opportunity for him to grow but was only possible by severing his ties with Y/N.

It had just started snowing on Boxing Day. Tom was alone in his cold home, boiling a pot of ramen noodles. He took out his phone and snapped a picture of the burning stove with the pot on top.

Tom: *attached photo*

Tom: I come back after months and my family leaves me alone with no food

Y/N: you should add a poached egg

Tom: Thanks. I shall.

Tom: I think I made too much ramen for me

Tom: do you wanna come over and share?

Her indecision was visible by the coming and going of the gray dots. Then finally, Tom could tame his anxiety by her simple reply.

Y/N: sure.

There was a loud knock on the door. Tom put two bowls of hot ramen on the dining table and went to open the door. Behind the door, Y/N was standing with her hands inside her brown checker coat. There was dust of snow sitting on her shoulders. Her braided hair was made by the most anxious hands in town.

The door opened and, Tom’s hands flew to take Y/N in his arms. They hugged like little kids hug their parents after being away from each other, for them, an eternity. It did feel like an eternity to them too but, they hadn’t forgotten each other’s touch.

“I parked my car at the church, couldn’t find any spot here ‘cause of the snow," she pulled out.

“The snow seems to be gaining momentum.”

Y/N hummed in agreement. She took off her coat and hung it in the Holland’s coat closet.

“Come on, the ramen is getting cold,” she followed tom into the kitchen.

They sat adjacent on the wooden table in comfortable silence. Tom used chopsticks and, Y/N used a fork. Only the occasional noodles falling in the broth were heard, along with the gushing of wind.

“It’s really spicy for me,” Tom said.

“Yeah, I can see your ears turning red.”

She still remembers

Y/N raised her hand to cover her mouth while yawning.

“Since you made the food, I’ll do the dishes,” she got up, grabbed their bowls, and walked over to the sink.

Wearing the gloves, she turned to Tom, “it was quite tasty”.

Tom gave her a smile.

She spread the soap on the dishes and turned the tap on. Tom pushed his chair back to get up.

“Have you made any friends at your new job,” he jumped and sat on the counter next to Y/N.

“Yeah, sort of. Kyara works there too so, I have just made her friends my friends,” she washed his chopsticks.

“That’s good. Have you talked to Emily after the wedding? She told me they are planning on adopting.”

“They invited me over for dinner when they got the approval from the agency. Kyara made this amazing Hyderabadi biryani, it was her mum’s recipe so, it was obviously better than the restaurant”

“God! You and your love for Indian food”

Y/N removed her gloves, “I should go. Thanks for the ramen, by the way”

“Are you sure you can go out in this weather?”

“Yeah I think," she started walking out of the kitchen.

Tom grabbed her hand. “Stay”, his voice was like cotton.

Y/N turned and made contact with his pleading eyes. She moved closer to him. “Please”, he said. They both were inching in to lock their desperate lips.

Y/N did not notice when she had fallen asleep talking to Tom. Their naked bodies were covered by the white comforter. Her eyes slowly opened to a boy with brown eyes and messy hair looking at her.

“I like it when you sleep. I love watching you sleep”

She chuckled. “That’s a bit creepy, don’t you think?” She had a sleepy voice.

“You look so serene, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I could stare at you for eons”

“But love, I'm only here till the snow settles,” she caressed his cheeks.

“Then the cold shall frost our limbs," he leaned in to kiss her.

tags: @elios-timotea

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #spiderman #marvel fanfiction #marvel #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spider man #spiderman x you

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ellitx · 4 years

Text

Chapter 8: Unexpected Sojourn

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

previous || next

art belongs to rome

word count: 3.2k

“[Name].”

You flinched when your name slipped from his lips. Venti furrowed his brows in worry and slowly knelt down before you, reaching his hand out to brush your cheek. You crawled backward before he could touch you.

Fear had once again found you. It spoke to you in its cackling voice. It told your legs to go weak, your stomach to lurch and your heart to ache. Your eyes averted from his own gaze. You don’t want to look at him.

You fear facing the unknown Venti in front of you. What happened back then still lingered inside your head. Those cold and ominous orbs when he looked at you made you shudder. You know that intense gaze wasn’t meant to be directed at you, yet it scared you so much the more you think about it.

His heart ached to see you distancing away from him. It feels so cold, like concrete drying his chest. It was unexpected for him to experience a heartbreak— top of the world one minute then cut down the next. Why is that? Is there a part of him that you dislike seeing? You do know that he’s trying to help you, right?

“[Name], what’s wrong?”

He softly asked, his voice sounded so pleading. As much as he wanted to near you, he kept himself in place to prevent you from keeping away. You have always imagined him holding you so many times, but now more often than not you find the future you seek is an empty shell.

Things have changed abruptly— he changed, so fast, you worry that he might not be able to control himself in front of you.

“It’s nothing…” You muttered. You said you aren’t scared but he can see your body movements are tighter and your yearnings reduced. Your smiles were shorter and silence longer. You didn’t even look at him as you said that.

Venti bit his lip as his face contorted. He so badly wanted to wrap his arms around you and just bury his face on your hair, taking in the fresh smell you have, yet you were scared. Scared of what though? He doesn’t know the answer to it. Was it because of Boreas?

“Please look at me…”

He begged. There was something in his voice, a pain behind it. You watched. You watched his eyes and then you knew. The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered knight aimlessly lunging his sword, scared for his life, lonely, and desperate.

His emotions turned jagged and his insides tight. He wanted to cry out and reach out to you. Love him, sit with him, hold his hand, say his name, look into his eyes, and say you love him. He waited, heart in his mouth, hoping you’ll come back to his arms.

It hurt you. It hurt you to see him like this. The emotional pain in those green gems swelled you with guilt that you’re staying away from him. You impulsively extended out your arms and apologized.

“I’m sorry,”

Venti blinked in surprise yet he didn’t hesitate to come to you. Your arms were wide open, welcoming him in, and he immediately entered them then wrapped his arms around your waist so tightly.

His hug is stronger than anything you’ve ever known as if holding you wasn’t quite enough, he has to feel every ounce that you are pressed into every ounce that is him. In that moment of a feeling of you so close has awakened him, more alive and relieved than he has been in so very long.

He nuzzled onto your neck, feeling safe against you. Your warm hug took the pain away and just let himself melt and be comfortable. You slowly reached up to his head and caressed his dark locks.

“I’m sorry…” You repeated. “I… I thought you’re mad at me.” Your gaze darted downwards with your arms falling back to your side. Your eyes remained glassy for a moment and that’s when he finally connected the dots together.

You were scared seeing him furious. It’s an emotion he never really shows it often and is rare for him. This side of him was uncommon to see and you’ve never seen him felt like that once in your life of knowing him for all these years. Anger, pain, sadness— so intertwined that perhaps his name is ought to be tweaked to reflect the true origins of these emotions.

Venti pulled away and looked at you, his eyes calmly searching yours. He raised your chin to make you look at him and pressed his forehead with yours. “I’m not mad. And I’ll never ever be mad at you.” Warm hands then cupped your cheeks and when he spoke, you can feel his warm breath against your face, and it’s just now you're realizing how close you two are.

“I’m worried about you,” The distance between your lips were just a few centimeters apart, almost brushing together. “And I don’t know what to do without you being here with me.” He was firm and gentle as he pulled you in and it caught you off guard the moment his lips brushed with yours. In that kiss was the sweetness of affection, a million thoughts condensed into a moment.

He laced his fingers with yours and tugged you close to him. You never quite figure out the beauty of his lips was more the softness of their association with the words he spoke. He always loves being near you, touching you, and holding you in his arms. His warmth would seep into your being and comfort you without ever opening his mouth.

You’d melt onto him easily as you belonged next to him as he belonged to you. And each time before you part, the aching to be in his arms would begin anew.

—

“Say Aether,” Paimon started catching the traveler’s attention as he stopped munching his food. He hummed at her and raised a brow. “Isn’t the Tone-Deaf Bard a little bit shifty this day?”

The blonde swallowed his meal and took a napkin wiping the crumbs sticking on the corner of his mouth then asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean aren’t you curious to know who this maiden Venti keeps talking about?!” Her face was so close whilst she floated above him. Aether sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This pixie really doesn’t know where to not poke her nose into, does she?

“It’s not our business and we shouldn’t pry onto it anymore.” Paimon puffed her cheeks and stomped her feet onto the air in annoyance. It did irk her that her companion was not interested in this topic, but her curiosity is eating her up.

“Is she perhaps the one he told us in his story?” She didn’t change the topic as she grinned while taking another piece of the Mushroom Pizza. Aether simply shrugged and just ignored her rambles, absently staring onto the wall of Good Hunter’s diner.

If it really was the girl Venti mentioned from the story of his old friend, does that mean she’s awake already?

“Anyways we’re still going to check it out, right?!”

He snapped out from his dazed state, owlishly blinking before looking back at her. “Hm? What are we talking about again?”

“You’re not even listening to Paimon! Well never mind, Paimon can just repeat it to you.” Before she could utter a word, Aether had cut her off. “If it’s about following Venti, we don’t have the slightest clue to where he could be.” His floating companion grumbled and crossed her arms in aggravation since what he said did have a point.

Albeit disappointing as it may be, she did actually hope they could investigate it later. “Bummer…” She muttered to herself and took another bite of the pizza.

Aether rummaged inside his bag and clicked his tongue at the sight of the lack of crystals he currently has. He forgot to collect more to enhance his weapon to the blacksmith, great. He disappointedly sighed and zipped his bag close. Sufficient mora, shortage of crystals. Seems like they’ll have to mine them before he could enhance his trusty sword.

“We’re going to Stormterror’s lair after this.” He announced. “Now? But we haven’t finished eating these yet! We still have another order coming.” Oh, right, the Sticky Honey Roast.

“We’ll eat Sticky Honey Roast first then go to Stormterror’s lair.”

“Aww yeah!”

The wait was fortunately not that too long. The waitress stopped by their table and served them their meals. The sight and aroma of the food made them drool in hunger, their souls wanting to ravish it in instant. The two grabbed their fork and knife, hastily slicing to get their piece, and enjoyed the delish meat feast prepared for them as they shoved a forkful of it into their mouths.

Warm food melted in the back of their throat and Paimon, who was dissatisfied with the size of her spoon, raised the plate to her face, wolfed it down, and licked the plate clean. Her body shook as she belched loud and long.

Aether cringed at her lack of manners in dining, looking away from the other customers who gave them a glance of curiosity at his guide. This emergency food will be the death of him.

After finishing their meal and paying up, the two went off and started their journey to the lair. The embryonic oaks laid upon the grass, their brown eyes a gift to the eyes. He could watch them for a while, these acorns, hoping the silent bliss would extend if not for some group of slimes and hilichurls attacking them.

Fighting was easy and not too much of a trouble for him, a sign that he’s gradually getting stronger. He smiled to himself and let his sword vanish into thin air on his back. Just a few more steps and he can finally gather the crystals he really needed.

The path went onwards and there was much journeying ahead in front of them. He paid no mind to Paimon’s ramblings about what food they should get later. Sheesh, why does she can only think of nothing but food? Just how big is her stomach that can handle so many?

Still, he appreciated her little babbles to distract himself from their quiet walk. His golden orbs then lit up at the sight of the familiar entrance getting bigger each step they take. His leg stopped from leading him and peered at the big tower looming before his small form.

The memories of the Stormterror issue returned to him. The agony and pain the poor dragon was suffering, the blood clot that drastically continued to consume him as he writhes and cries while no one was there to help him. Venti, the Anemo Archon, was there to help Aether in his journey and to aid in freeing Dvalin from being corrupted by the Abyss Order.

They were able to set him free and save him from poison with the help of the Dandelion Knight and Darknight Hero of Mondstadt. Still, even after that incident, there are still no clues as to where his sister could be.

Aether took the chunk of crystal and placed it inside his bag. He heaved a sigh and stretched his arms to ease the cramps formed on his tense shoulder due to the struggle of breaking the crystals from the ground.

“Are those enough?” Paimon hovered above him and took a peek inside as she asked. The blonde shook his head and sled the backpack over his shoulder. “Just need two more and then we can go back.” He took out his map and checked the current location he is in to mark the spot.

“Oh! Paimon remembers there are few over there.” Her small finger pointed on the spot of the map near to where they are and tugged his scarf to make him follow her. Few long strides here and there, his brow quirked when Paimon stopped midway guiding him.

“Uh… are you seeing what Paimon’s seeing?” His brows knitted together at her ambiguous context behind her words. “What are you talking about?” He questioned and looked in front seeing nothing but thin air.

“Over there! Is that a dead body?!” She flew behind him and took a little peek over his shoulder, her form slightly quivering in fear. He squinted his eyes to take a closer observation to where her finger was directing. Upon more detailed inspection, he can faintly draw out the figure that was limped on the ground.

In instinct, his legs immediately guided him towards the figure and saw an unconscious form of a girl the closer he gets. He knelt down and drifted his hand on your chest to check your pulse.

“She’s just unconscious.” He assured Paimon. She sighed in relief and fluttered across you to check your features then back to the area. Something feels off…

“Is it just me or was there always a garden here before?” She remarked, catching Aether’s attention. His eyes wandered to his surroundings and she was indeed right. Various flowers scattered before you, cushioning your body in the grassy field. He remembers that the ruins were only filled with the remains of the old buildings and structures.

He explored this area in and out and never once in his journey does he remember a garden was set up here in just a month. Is someone revitalizing this old lair? Even if it did, he should prioritize first your passed out state and bring you back to Mondstadt for safety.

“We should bring her back with us. It’s too dangerous here.” He told his little companion and before he could tuck his hands underneath your legs, a strong grip on his wrist stopped him from doing so.

He jerked his head in the direction of the owner’s arm, following the white sleeve covered up until to sight of a familiar appearance of a bard standing before him. Venti stared blankly at him with cold eyes. Frightened by his expression and sudden presence, he took in a sudden intake of breath and stumbled backward, his foot slipping from the ground. His shoulders tensed in alarm, the tightening grip on his wrist caused him to wince in pain.

“Venti?!” Paimon exclaimed in surprise and glided away to give the distance from him as she noticed the abrupt ominous aura encircling him.

“What are you going to do with her?” His expression hardened when the traveler remained quiet at his question, so he constricted his hold on him even further to get his attention.

“I said, what are you going to do with her, traveler?” He repeated but with a firm and loud voice. The pixie shuddered in fear at his unforeseen behavior but she quickly stepped in and tugged his hand away.

“We’re just going to bring her to the city to help her!” She exclaimed and attempted to release his restraint on her ally. Resentful countenance flit across his features as his mouth had gone hard hearing her words. Though, he quickly replaced it with a smile and finally let go of Aether.

“I see. There’s no need to do that.”

The blonde rubbed his wrist to ease the discomfort that continued to linger, he was sure of himself it’ll create a bruise on it. His eyes followed to the bard’s small form as he carried you in his arms. You squirmed against him and huddled closer searching for warmth.

Venti glanced at you then back to the two companions. “You should go back now.” His voice was more demanding than they had expected. An order from an Archon himself. Though Aether didn’t budge, he hoisted himself up first then looked at him in utter puzzlement.

“What about her? Is she injured? Sick? You should come with us too if you want to aid her.” Venti clicked his tongue and forced a smile to hide the growing anger that’s boiling up even more the more he talks.

“I can handle her myself. It’s getting dark already and I don’t want you to get lost on your way back to the city.” The small bickering started to wake you and this is not what Venti likes to happen.

As you rose from your light slumber, you are first aware of the coolness of the air and the fresh and loamy fragrance. Your clothes feel damp as a flower in the dew of the dawn. You half wonder if you’re still dreaming as you shifted from your place and sensed your feet weren’t touching the ground.

“She’s awake!” You heard a squeaky voice exclaim near you. Venti raised his hand and commanded the winds to push the two away back to the exit.

“Leave. Now.”

It irked him further when Aether persisted then stared at you, observing your features in silence. If he’s desperate to stay then so be it, he can just teleport himself somewhere else with you as long as they keep a distance from you.

He didn’t hesitate to leave them all alone and not even once listening to what they’ll say as he suddenly disappeared into thin air with few teal feathers fluttering along with the air.

He stopped near the lake and heaved a sigh of relief that he can no longer see them at last. You rubbed your eyes to erase the sleepiness within you and looked up at him, calling his name in a drowsy manner.

“Sorry did I wake you, love?”

He settled himself on the ground and brushed your hair away that was fixed on your cheeks. You blinked and looked around the area to get a glimpse of where you are. Now you were awake, perhaps a little bit awake with a tint of drowsiness still in you. As far as you can tell, you’re trapped in your lover’s arms with birds making their carefree song around you.

“What’s the noise all about? What’s going on?”

Ah, seems like that woke you up. He sighed and placed his head on your shoulder to relax with just your presence. It’s a miracle how your own voice can instantly calm him down after attempting Aether and Paimon to leave the place.

“There were visitors that came here. Quite pesky I must say.”

“Visitors?”

That fully woke you up more than you’ve ever been. “No need to worry about that. It’s not really important. Get some more rest, you’re tired after what happened after all.” He kissed the top of your head and pulled you close to snuggle against him. You enjoy the feeling of his warm body next to yours, causing you to be sleepy once again.

He carefully shuffled to find a comfortable spot and looked at you. Your features were much softer in sleep, more youthful than ever no matter how many millenniums of years passed by. It reminded him of your heavy slumber while he waits for you to wake up.

But now, he doesn’t need to worry if you’re still in a comatose state. You’re already awake, with him and finally together. He can easily check up on you all the time as long as he’s next to you. He could soak in all that you are forever and still be right here, still wanting more. It is infatuation, but what is love without it? Desire, passion, and true love are threads of the same emotion, a perfect recipe for his attraction for you.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere venti x reader #venti x reader #genshin impact venti x reader #genshin impact venti #venti #genshin impact reader insert #elliwrites #Illusory Sense

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flowerwrites06 · 4 years

Text

break my mind’s eye special — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation

Walking through the dark halls of permanently stained apartment building, Jungkook finally stood in front of a familiar number written on the text. He rapped at the wooden door a few times hearing a couple of grunts and rummaging from the other side. He sighed. “It’s me, Hoseok, you don’t have to hide the weed.”

“ Oh! ”

A few locks clicked here and there before the door swung open to welcome a light air of smoke mixed with the stench alone that could make Jungkook high. Hoseok gave him a loose smile, holding onto his arm as a wide grin spread across his lips. “You finally made it!”

Jungkook hummed trying not to grimace too much at the smell as the older male closed the door behind them.

“Come on, tell me…” Hoseok patted his back, prancing towards the couch where the coffee table was exuding smoke.

The apartment was miniscule with one bedroom door open on the left and a tiny kitchen on the right with a window next to the fridge. Another one near the dining table. Walls were a gross green tint and the floors a dull brown with black velvet couches that were ripped a little at the edges. But Jungkook could not complain.

“Tell you what?” The younger male dropped his bag on the floor and sat on the couch next to him, burying his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

Hoseok picked his joint back up and hovered it near his lips. “What was prison like?” He sucked in his cheeks causing the ambers to light up at the end before he blew the thick smoke away from Jungkook.

“Like living with a bunch of criminals. What else?”

“So just like old times then.” Hoseok smirked.

Jungkook glanced at the male for a moment before scoffing out a chuckle. “Yeah…pretty much.” Except there was one difference. Every time he pranced with criminals like himself in the past, he was a leader. In prison, he was young, fresh meat. Before he would also come back home to a warm embrace in bed instead of a steel bed alone with a stinky roommate.

“Well it’s all over now.” He blew out another puff of smoke, shifting to rest his head back against the couch. “You can start doing something else with your life. Something different. Not a lot of people like us get that chance.”

For the first time, he noticed a slight sadness in Hoseok’s tone despite being pumped with artificial endorphins.

His eyes flickered down to the coffee table, noticing the burger wrappers and scattered newspapers. One of them immediately caught his eye. Jungkook sat up again, pulling one of them out of the pile, the right corner of his lips twitched seeing the familiar face.

‘ FAMED DESIGNER KIM BELLE RULES TOKYO FASHION WEEK ’

A side by side picture of a model wearing violet and gold ensemble which almost resembled the traditional kimono with a modern, royal twist. The picture on the right showed her. Belle wearing a simple black dress with her gorgeous waves out and a gracious smile spread across her lips.

‘ Twenty seven year old fashion designer Kim Belle takes all the popularity and buzz with her winter designs for Tokyo Fashion Week. Showing her long love for traditional Japanese fashion culture along with an inspiring movement for domestic violence and trafficking victims by showcasing broken chains and kimono style gowns. An elegant mix of grace and fight for personal freedom. Truly an impressive successor to the legend that was Madame Saito and we are definitely going to keep an eye out for more of her daring projects. ’

“She made a big damn name of herself.” Hoseok broke through the thick coat of silence Jungkook had around him.

“She deserves it.” More than I ever did.

The older male searched his expression for a moment, scoffing a little. “Dude, I have to ask.”

Jungkook met his gaze as he leaned back onto the couch again with the newspaper still in his hands. “What?”

“Why her?”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you—literally could’ve had anyone in the entire country to pose as your fake wife or whatever. But you chose a fashion designer who barely knew anything about you to begin with…” Hoseok shook his head with a light wince. “What was your angle?” Some part of him did not want to believe Jungkook simply blackmailed someone for his own amusement because he knew the man was better than that.

Jungkook wished he had a decent reason to blurt out to him. Maybe he was just inherently evil and wanted to hurt Belle for his own pleasure. Maybe he wanted to fuck her one time just for kicks before dragging her out a little further until it was too much. Maybe he was just sick in the head, wanting to claim a girl who could not say a word against him because her and her brother’s life were wrapped around his finger. Except none of them felt like the truth. “I honestly thought she’d say no.”

“Oh fuck off—”

“Seriously I…” He shrugged a little. “I really thought she was going to punch me and storm out of there with her brother.”

“But the guards wouldn’t let her. I mean—no offense, buddy but you would’ve probably killed her. Knowing you from back then.” Hoseok scrunched his nose lightly.

“She did something ten times more dangerous though.” Jungkook couldn’t resist the jolt of pride bursting in him. “I destroyed her—so she waited until she destroyed me.”

Hoseok chortled a little, voice incredibly raspy. “I wouldn’t call going to jail for your crimes destroying you but sure…”

Jungkook shared a small laugh, nodding as he looked at her picture again. He could almost still feel her soft skin underneath his palm. How her hair smelled when he would hug her from behind as they slept, the way it soothed him to a calmer sleep.

“It’s a thing of the past though…” He tilted his head as his expression turned a little more serious. “…right? No more pulling her into shit she doesn’t deserve?”

“Yeah—yeah, of course.”

“Good…cause Belle’s the star of the city now. One wrong move towards her, you’re back in jail or worse.” Hoseok raised his brow a little making sure there was not a hint of determination on that young face of doing anything stupid. “You don’t have guards or power by your side and Taehyung isn’t addicted anymore. Has a wife and kid…he’s got the dad anger. So he will beat the living shit out of you if you give him the motivation.”

“I know, Hobi.” Jungkook chuckled, patting his thigh gently. “I don’t want her to go through it again either.”

Hoseok hummed a little taking another waft from his joint as he looked out the window, the sky tinted purple. “Alright. I’m gonna go and eat my girlfriend out.” He patted his shoulder, walking up to his bedroom.

“You had to look at the time for that?” Jungkook winced despite the grin on his face.

“Brother, when you’re together for this long, things need schedules.” He walked out of the bedroom with a black duffel bag putting out the joint onto the ashtray. “Food’s in the fridge and there’s Netflix open on the laptop.”

Jungkook waved him off before the door clicked close leaving him in his thoughts. For some reason, all he could do was look back at the newspaper and try to salvage that warm feeling again. The feeling of a true home that could never be.

Purple faded into a deep blue across the skies as Jungkook paced around the apartment in his bare torso, scattered with more imperfect tattoos. One cellmate liked doing tattoos because it calmed him down so the younger male did not hesitate much to let him use his skin. He was a nice man who had been thrown in jail for being a drug mule all his life and Jungkook could not help but have a nauseating guilt in his stomach.

Drug mules were essentially trafficked human slaves from Jungkooks’ experience. Their owners use their lives and bodies to transport goods without being detected and usually they start off terrifyingly young or desperate or both. All this service was done for almost little to no money. They were more abused victims than criminals but the legal system were not good at telling the difference sometimes.

Jungkook allowed his body to be used as if giving himself some kind of cathartic relief allowing the broken soul to control something else for a while instead of being controlled. Thus his skin now littered with designs of devil horns, tiger flowers and his own personal request was a tiny print font ‘B’ on his collarbone. No one could truly see it up close but he wanted to feel it there.

Chugging a generous sip from his beer bottle, he quietly observed the night sky glimmering with stars while the city shone in neon. The one thing his mansion lacked was the clear view of how alive everything looked at night.

A knock sounded on the door causing his head to shoot to the side.

Hoseok should not have been home at this hour. Even if he was, the man would not knock in his own apartment.

Jungkook opened the kitchen drawer and brandished a knife before making his way over to the door. Another knock sounded again. It was a gentle knock. Almost shy. But he knew better than soften up so easily. Carefully, he peeked through the peephole trying not to make too much of a sound even though the wooden floors creaked far too much.

His heart jumped right up to his throat seeing the familiar face on the other side. Jungkook almost dropped the knife on the floor trying to focus as best as he could. Was he drunk already? Was he dreaming? Gulping down, he placed the knife on the side table along with the beer bottle and opened the door.

When the view became clear to him, Jungkook let out a sharp breath. “Belle.”

Her hair was shorter up to her shoulders compared to the length in the newspaper picture except she still always kept her natural waves. Eyes a little glazed while her flushed lips spread into a weak smile before pressing them together again. “I-I don’t–I don’t know why I’m here.” Belle’s furrowed her brows a little.

“It’s okay.” He whispered. “Come in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Jungkook smiled even though a small tinge of sadness shone in his eyes.

He opened the door further for her to enter before closing it behind him. Eyes flickered down to her grey sweatpants and frilly white socks paired with a thick sweater like she just woke up from a nap.

Belle kept her back to him for a few minutes, pretending to observe the apartment even though she was really just trying to figure out why she was here. Questions muddled her mind over and over again. Any valid or logical answer. There was nothing. No reason to be standing here when she tried so hard to walk away from him. She did everything to get away. Now she walked right back without any coercion.

Jungkook tilted his head attempting to meet her gaze but decided not to force it too much. “You cut your hair.” A smile twitched on his lips. “It looks nice.”

She absentmindedly touched her waves, breathing out a small chuckle. “Thank you.”

“Uh—how did you know I was here?”

“Namjoon helped me track you down.” Belle mumbled, guilt pooling in the pit of her belly going behind Yoongi’s back like this. She still remembered what Namjoon said when he gave her the address.

‘I’m only giving you this because I know you’re tough as nails…no matter what people say to you…but the second anything goes wrong, you call me.’ Namjoon had become a close friend in the last few years. He had been escorting her back and forth from home to work.

Yoongi had been disallowed to see her after being undercover so he could get a proper therapy before doing field work again. So Namjoon seemed the next obvious choice to take care of her.

Finally Belle turned around to face him, eyes raking down his torso and seeing new designs etched on his skin. Not as precise as the phoenix but still beautiful. “The tattoos look good.”

Jungkook glanced down at his torso with a soft grin. “A friend did them for me.” He met her gaze again even though she quickly averted it, plunging silence back into the room as they waited for it to be filled. “Belle…why are you here?”

Her body deflated as the question lingered in the air, lump growing in her throat while her knees kept trembling. “I—” Belle closed her eyes. “I mis—I missed you.” She smiled sadly before trailing her glossy gaze away again. “It sounds stupid when I say after so long.” Her voice kept getting constricted from the lump, tears filling at the brim of her eyes. “But I still think about you…I still kept that—stupid letter after all these years.”

A familiar warmth seeped through his veins knowing she missed him but it still mixed with dread and guilt. Jungkook scarred her memories forever with his presence and she was so confused on what it meant. He could see the way she shifted and looked away as if trying to push reality away but face it all the same. “I hurt you a lot. I’m so sorry—if I—if I could do it all over again, I’d do it better.”

“How could it have been better?” Belle shook her head. “We met when my brother owed you a debt.”

Jungkook raised his shoulders. “Maybe we’d have met at your boutique.” He attempted to smile a little at the thought of just walking into that boutique and falling in love the normal way. The happy way. “I’d have flirted with you a lot and you’d roll your eyes at me. We’d travel together to Paris or Tokyo, explore the things we love and eat ice-cream until our stomachs ached.” A tiny chuckle passed through his lips.

Belle had to suck in her trembling bottom lip as tears began escaping down her cheeks. “And?”

“We’d get married…properly. Away from my family, we’d relax somewhere at a beach.” The visions in his mind played without any effort causing his eyes to flood knowing it was all an impossible dream now. “We’d have children…we’d love them so much, Belle—”

She couldn’t hold in the sobs that shook through her body. At the very mention of children, Belle felt a tingle under the skin of her belly, memories of the aches still lingering. “Why didn’t you just take the money?”

“What?” He whispered.

“Why didn’t you just take the money? And don’t tell me it was because of business or keeping up appearances. Why? Why me?”

The ever burning question. Even the interrogators asked them the question. What was the motive to taking in Miss Kim? A lot of people owed you debts. Jungkook only answered with a vague, menial answer that had no real connection to his deeds as a boss.

“It was—it was just an impulse…”

Belle’s expression hardened even though her eyes still looked so vulnerable and broken. “An impulse?” Her voice was small and meek. “That’s it?”

“I didn’t think you’d—say yes.”

Saying it to Hoseok was easy. Saying it to Belle felt evil. Jungkook noticed the darkness clouding over her beautiful features, a mixture of heartbreak and pure rage.

“You put my brother’s life on the line and you thought I wasn’t going to say yes?” Belle winced, tone rising back to its original power. A harsh slap of reality learning that one of the most traumatizing experiences of her life happened because one man had an impulse decision to use his power over her.

“Belle, it was years ago—”

“So why am I still getting nightmares about it?!” She shrieked leaving a tense silence to plunge into the room while her voice still echoed through the walls a little. “W-why h-haven’t I stopped seeing t-that mansion every time I close my eyes? Wh-why do I wake u-up scared that I’m still in that room w-while they watch—” Belle let out a loud, trembling breath closing her eyes. Tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping to her chest from her jawline as she hugged herself tightly.

Jungkook stammered, swallowing down the painful lump in his throat as he attempted to keep his composure. “You didn’t have to come and see me.” He whispered.

“I wanted you to see me.” Belle sniffled shakily. “Staying away from you doesn’t help because you could always push it out. I can’t—I can’t push it out because it’s inside me.”

“You think all this has been easy for me? That I just pushed it out?” Jungkook shook his head with a pained expression as their gazes met again. “Yeah our first meeting was an impulse but that didn’t mean it was always like that. I stopped a lot of contact with my family when you told me you were pregnant. That letter was meant to be the last thing I said to my parents before we left.”

Belle wanted to argue that he just started getting sympathetic after her pregnancy but she would be a hypocrite. Even she felt softened knowing a child was growing inside her. “You wanted to kill the mayor too, Jungkook, how long would that have taken?”

“Overnight if it meant I’d be escaping somewhere with you.” Jungkook spoke without hesitation, still remembering all the plans he had in place for their move.

“But I would’ve lost the baby anyway.” She smiled sadly. “It was natural causes.”

The male took a few careful steps forward, trying not to intimidate her but hopefully close a little more distance between them. “I didn’t just do it for the baby, Belle.” Jungkook sighed. “I did it cause I love you…but I knew we couldn’t be happy if we were at that mansion and I was still running the cartel.”

Belle sniffled. “I wish you didn’t love me.” Her chin trembled, her body tired of brewing more sobs as tears filled her eyes again. “I wish I didn’t love you. Maybe all this would be easier.”

“When has it ever been easy between us?”

“That’s the problem.” She pressed her lips together. “Love shouldn’t be this difficult. Maybe sometimes but—every single day wondering whether what you’re feeling is real…or worrying that something terrible is going to happen if I stay with you for too long.” Features contorted in pain as she stumbled on her feet a little.

Jungkook’s inhibitions banished immediately seeing her trip slightly, rushing to her side and gently holding onto her arm. Before he could say anything, he felt Belle rest her head on his chest. A burst of butterflies soared across his belly having that familiar smell touch his nostrils and the warmth of her body radiating onto his cold bare skin.

They didn’t say a single word as Jungkook properly wrapped his arms around her body, fingers brushing through her soft hair. Her sobs were quiet but her body still trembled and his embraced tightened a little. As if praying that all of her pain could be transferred to him so she did not have to suffer through it all.

Belle should have pulled away the moment he touched her but the warmth was too much. Her body felt heavy against his, melting onto his skin almost like they could join as one. Maybe that could repair some of the damage. Breathing became steady as she allowed herself to relax. A protective part of her still tried ensure she was not too vulnerable but another part said it was too late.

In this particular weakened moment, she was his and he was hers.

15 unread messages.

Namjoon: How did it go? Are you good?

Namjoon: Taehyung said you didn’t come home last night.

Namjoon: Belle?

Namjoon: I don’t want to have to track you down.

Namjoon: Please tell me if you’re okay.

Namjoon: Yoongi and Taehyung found out, I’m sorry.

Belle: I’m okay.

Namjoon: Jesus, don’t scare me like that.

Namjoon: Where are you?

Belle: I’m still at Jungkooks’ place.

Namjoon: Okay. Is everything alright?

Belle: I don’t know.

Namjoon: What do you mean? Did he hurt you?

Belle: No.

Namjoon: Just tell me what happened.

Namjoon: Look I’m not Yoongi or Taehyung. I won’t get mad, alright? You can tell me.

Belle: I slept with him.

Namjoon: Okay that’s fine.

Belle: No it’s not.

Namjoon: Did he hurt you or force you or anything?

Belle: No, no it was consensual.

Namjoon: Then I don’t see an issue.

Belle: How?

Namjoon: Considering he’s a former drug lord, I expected far worse things done to you then you two just consensually having sex.

Belle: Are they really angry?

Namjoon: I’ll handle Yoongi and Angel’s handling Taehyung. They’re grown men, they’ll get over it.

Namjoon: Just come back up again.

Belle: Okay. Thank you, Joon.

Namjoon: Anytime.

Belle let out a sigh, chest falling a little as she hugged her phone for a moment before placing it on the nightstand. Eyes scanned the ceiling, a few brownish stains here and there but nothing far too putrid. Her old apartment usually had those stains after a storm. She felt Jungkook shift a little, his arm still resting over her body while his face buried into her neck. It was so easy allowing the warmth to coat their little bubble.

Except it was not a bubble of theatrics. She was not pretending to be Mrs. Jeon anymore. She was a fashion designer with her boutique and Jungkook was a regular man trying to get by in the city. They were two normal people with no real threat to be together but they were here.

The ache between her legs still pulsed a little when she remembered the night before.

The very minute she resorted to hugging him, Belle knew it was going to be difficult to turn back from it. Deep recesses of her mind surfacing up to whisper in her ear that it would be okay just this once.

To feel him again.

To have his head between her legs at this moment, kissing and nibbling on all her sensitive nub while his fingers pads dug into her thighs. Jungkook took his time. Licking a stripe tantalizingly slow, tasting her juices until it was the only remnant on his tongue. He let out a breath through his nose as his lips wrapped fully around her clit, suckling passionately until her thighs closed up around his head only making him moan.

Belle whined against the vibrations on her aching, sensitive skin as her fingers found themselves knotting in his hair. Chest rising and falling she faced the ceiling. Lower belly burned and tightened as Jungkooks’ movement did not falter, shaking his head a little to jolt more of that head-spinning heat.

…

Bed creaked as Belle straddled him, bouncing at a steady pace while her hands rested on his torso. Moonlight painted her sweat glistening skin through the window. As if the whole city could see her relishing in her own guilty pleasure. Except the guilt was nowhere to be found.

His hand trailed up her abdomen to cup her breasts gently, digging a little into her tender skin to earn a small whimper from the woman. Then he moved up to her neck. Jungkook cupped the side, thumb tracing her bottom lip while the other hand gripped at her shaking hips.

Belle suckled on his digit muffling her moans all the while clenching tightly around his member until it sent shivering tingles up her spine. She hummed in satisfaction as Jungkook groaned at the pressure.

“You feel so good.” He pushed in his thumb a little further watching her slightly drenched curls fall over her face. A smile curled up at the corner of his lips hearing the sinfully loud squelch sounds their thrusts emitted. “So fucking beautiful.” Jungkook whispered. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, wanting to take every second of how she tried to suck on his skin harder every time she dropped down roughly.

“I’m close.” Belle’s words were a little muddled against his thumb. Her thrusts grew desperate and relentless, pussy squelching violently as their incessant moans swirled in the sex scented air.

Bursts of searing heat and unbridled pleasure shook through their limbs, pulsing through her veins as Belle’s movements became sloppy. Jungkook had his head pressed deep against the pillow as his muscles tensed feeling her walls clench around him before he pulled himself out, release spewing out onto his belly. Belle cheekily reached down to touch his reddened member, giggling lightly when he jerked against it.

Jungkook followed with a breathless chuckle of his own as she rested back on his chest, uncaring of how messy they were.

It was the first time they laughed after sex.

Granted it was not much but last night gave her a dreamless sleep. A welcomed type of sleep. They cried, hugged, moaned and laughed. So many sensations all at once was bound to make anyone have such a deep sleep that they do not want to wake up the next day. A wonderful feeling. It would be temporary before her other dreams settle in again but Belle was not going to let them get to her this morning. She wanted to relish in this new, momentary peace.

Jungkook began stirring more, light hum under his breath until he finally opened his eyes to a calming sight. Tired vision still a little blurred but he could always make out her face. “Sleep well?” His voice grumbled despite the smile creeping on his lips.

Belle turned to meet his gaze, mimicking his gentle smile. “Really well.” The curl slowly disappeared from her lips as reality seeped through their comfort. “We can’t see each other anymore. You know that, right?”

He nodded although solemnly. “I know.” Whatever red string they forced themselves to tie around their pinky finger had to separate one day. Even when reluctance settled in. “Like you said, love shouldn’t be as difficult as ours was.” Jungkook shifted so he lay down his back, one arm curled so he could rest his head on top of it.

“I don’t have to leave now though.”

“What, you want more?” Jungkook licked the inside of his cheek as a smirk formed, one of his hands reaching out to gently touch her lower belly.

Belle pushed his hand away with a chuckle. “No…I meant something else.” She pulled the sheets up to cover herself a little, goosebumps forming on her skin when the room brushed a little cold. “Ice-cream. We could get ice-cream.”

A jolt of nostalgia burst through him as he remembered the last time that request was passed between them. Despite expecting a child back then, Jungkook preferred this more knowing Belle was sitting here by her own volition. That was what mattered most. “Yeah…we can get ice-cream.”

Tiny slab of pink and mint down the food line of the city. Belle somehow managed to make his black T-shirt and her sweatpants look strangely put together while he buried himself in his hoodie. They walked inside the cute parlor immediately greeted by a kind boy at the counter.

Making their orders, the couple took their ice-cream cups to a booth at the corner.

Thankfully the parlor was empty since no one bought ice-cream this early in the morning so it would be difficult for them to be spotted.

Journalists eventually grew bored of doing stories on Jungkook and Belle’s ‘tragic love story’ but she knew the moment, a single person saw them, it would be chaos.

“Did you have any trouble these few years?” Jungkook asked feeling a sense of joy in his mouth as the sweet taste touched his tongue.

Belle shrugged lightly. “Apparently there was a hired hitman for a while but he was quickly detained. Then a stalker which lasted for a few months.”

“What did he want?”

“Namjoon found out he was a spy for a gang called Pogpungu Pa.”

“Fucking tongue twister.” Jungkook scoffed. “They wanted a large percentage of my cocaine supplies in exchange for prostitutes.” He waved his spoon. “Told him I didn’t work in that line of business so the Don got pissed.”

“Well he’s also detained. Namjoon’s been very quick in dealing with them. Probably happy to be out on the field again with Yoongi still at his desk.” Belle suckled the remnants of brownie bits from her spoon.

“Why is he at his desk?” His brows furrowed.

“Standard procedure, I guess. Every detective is meant to have a few months of therapy and leave from field work. But I’m pretty sure it’s a new thing that the mayor advised.”

“They’ve been doing a lot of things.”

“A lot of good things.” Belle corrected, narrowing her gaze even though her expression was not completely serious.

Jungkook smiled lightly picking up another small scoop of his ice-cream. “You’ve been doing a lot of good things. The Tokyo fashion week.”

Her eyes almost immediately lit up when the topic was mentioned and Jungkook couldn’t help but feel accomplished that he initiated it. “You knew about that?”

“Saw it in the newspaper. It looked good.”

Belle grinned from ear to ear, eyes shining in the bright lights of the parlor. “Angel helped me with the movement. She wanted to create a shelter for domestic violence victims like her. So I offered to promote it in the fashion shows.”

“Oh yeah Hoseok told me…Taehyung and Angel, they have a kid, right?”

“Yeah…” She giggled lightly. “A little baby daughter.”

“That’s good.” Jungkook nodded with a wide smile. “He’s all okay now?”

“Clean and sober for four years. He—relapsed another time but when they got married and then started trying for children, he never went back again.” Belle murmured still remembering the happiest look on Taehyung’s teary eyed face when he first held his baby. That was all she ever wanted for her brother. True happiness. “I kind have you to thank for that.”

He hummed in disapproval. “Don’t, please—the way I did it was wrong.”

“Yes but everything happens for a reason. I think if that didn’t happen…he might not be here at all.” Belle shook his head. “He also did technically meet Angel in the Sangria House. The only reason we even had her booked was because I met Seokjin at the party with you.”

Strange how time fools you in that way. It makes you feel regretful of the bad things that happened in the past except you could not possibly take them back because it would mean diminishing the good things along with it. Delicate and strange thing time was.

“I would’ve never been free from that place if you didn’t go behind my back.” Jungkook smiled down at the cup. “I’ll always be grateful for that.”

“Speaking of which…how is it like being a normal joe in the city?” Belle asked with a cheeky glint in her eye as she tapped her fingers against the ice-cream cup.

“Apparently you have to pay for grocery bags now.” He waved his spoon around.

“Yes for recycling and it’s been happening for a very long time.” She smiled.

His bottom lip jutted out in a little pout. “Not from what I remember.”

“Since when have you ever shopped for groceries?”

Jungkook scrunched his nose a little poking into the mint chocolate ice cream to pick out the chips. “Since yesterday.” He mumbled. “But I’m happy…” He nodded letting his words linger in their comfortable silence. “Or at least now I can do things that make me happy.”

“You could travel to Tokyo and Paris, eat ice-cream until your stomach aches…” Belle grinned. “You can get married to someone you love dearly and have lots of children. No more deals though.” She raised her index fingers as a warning.

Jungkook laughed. “No more deals, I promise.” He mixed around his melting ice-cream for a bit enjoying the little swirl. “What about you? What’re you going to do?”

“My therapist said I should take some time off from the boutique when I get the chance.” Belle quoted her therapist mostly but she never really thought about the prospect on her own until she discussed it with Yoongi. “Yoongi suggested we could go to Norway to disconnect for a little while.”

“Yoongi…wait, are you two—”

“No, silly. As friends.”

“Ah.”

“You think if I had a boyfriend like Yoongi, I’d sleep with you again?” Belle scoffed even though a smile tugged at her lips.

“Hey I’m pretty tempting.”

“Not that tempting.”

Jungkook scrunched his nose at her before chuckling as he practically slurped on his ice-cream at this point.

The couple sat in silence for a few moments finishing their breakfast desserts, unable to keep smiles off their faces.

“We go our separate ways now, yeah?” He spoke the truth this time. The satisfaction in his belly along with the warmth in his heart softly stating to him that it was time.

Belle smiled, a slight twinge in her chest but nothing compared to the relief brewing inside. A whisper in her ear telling her it was okay. It was okay to move on. “Yeah. No more looking back.”

Throwing their empty ice-cream cups away, the pair walked out of the parlor towards Belle’s car. Jungkook’s apartment was a few minutes’ walk away. She wanted to drive because it made it that little bit easier to go back home immediately. At this point, they both deserved one thing to be easy.

Belle gave him one final smile before climbing into the car and driving away.

Jungkook didn’t wait a second as he turned on his heel and walked back to his apartment.

This was the true final time they saw each other. They would not turn back. There was no need to anymore.

As soon as Jungkook walked into the room, it smelled a whole lot more different than it did the first time. The only smoke emitting was from the pan exuding a warm, delicious scent. Morning sun beaming through the windows making it look a tad bit brighter and the floors almost shone clean now.

“There you are!” Hoseok announced with a grin. “Did you go out for a jog?”

“Yeah…a little bit.” He answered absentmindedly.

A figure with short, black hair stood at the kitchen counter setting some bacon and eggs up on the plate. She looked up and immediately give him a similar bright smile as Hoseok.

“Ah—this is Rosyne.” Hoseok touched the womans’ shoulder. “Rosyne, Jungkook.” He gestured over to the younger male.

The two exchanged greetings before Hoseok invited him over to the kitchen counter to have breakfast. He wanted to tell them that his stomach was a little full from the ice-cream. But it felt so peaceful when he saw the giggles shared between them while eating, random conversations that no one really cared about but it made them smile.

Jungkook stayed still for a moment watching them so easily be vulnerable and happy around each other. “Hey, you guys want to go to Paris?” He sat down on one of the stools.

Rosyne’s eyes widened a little as the request lingered in the air while Hoseok looked amused but taken aback at the same time.

“Why the sudden interest?” Hoseok chuckled, sticking his fork into some scrambled eggs.

He shrugged. “Might be cool to disconnect for a little while.”

“Prison wasn’t disconnecting enough?”

Jungkook nudged his arm with a light scoff. “You know what I mean. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’ve—always wanted to see the Louvre in real life.” Rosyne raised her shoulders, giving Hoseok an adorable smile.

“Don’t spoil him, Ros.” Hoseok glanced at the both of them for a few moments before letting out a defeated sigh. “We’ll think about it.”

Jungkook did not argue any further after that and began taking careful bites of the breakfast even though it might give him a stomach ache later. The thought of something actually exciting happening this year or the next year made him happy enough to keep going on this new life.

Carefully padding into the apartment, Belle’s footsteps were soft and barely echoed across the walls but there was no use in being discreet. Especially since Yoongi, Taehyung, Namjoon and Angel were all in the sitting room. Bloom sat on the floor completely focused on banging her little drums that Namjoon gifted her on her first birthday.

Once Angel looked her way, everyone else followed suit. Yoongi was the first one to shoot up to his feet and stomp towards the woman.

“What took you so long?” Yoongis’ words sounded more like pleading than anger. “Are you hurt?” Eyes frantically examined her body until his gaze darkened as he stopped at her neck.

Belle hovered her hand over the patch of skin that definitely had a few purpling marks scattered but she kept a calm expression. “Everything’s fine, okay? Nothing happened.”

“No something happened.”

“Yoongi, fuck off.” Namjoon grabbed his shoulder and led him to the side. “Good to have you back in one piece, B.”

As the two men sat near the paneled windows muttering a few things to each other, Belle caught another figure coming towards her from the corner of her eye. She took a deep breath keeping her gaze on her brother.

Taehyung looked so much taller now. Loose emerald shirt with golden vectors as opposed to the old black hoodies, his eyes were a little darkened from exhaustion but this time it was to take care of his baby rather than an accidental bender. The serious expression on his face added more to the fact that Belle had her older brother back. He was sturdy in his appearance and confident in his stance. The look of a man who had gone through a tunnel of hell and found happiness at the end of the trail.

“How’d it go?” He asked.

“Pretty civil…” Belle nodded, playing with her fingers a little. “…considering the circumstances.”

Taehyung hummed in approval. “That’s good. And that?” He waved his index finger across his own bare neck while looking at hers. “Good or bad?”

“Good.” She smiled faintly. “Really good.”

He grimaced a little. “Gross.”

“Shut up.”

Taehyung could not seem to keep his serious expression as a light chuckle broke out of him, shifting on his spot to loosen up. “But—no more, right? We’re gonna try to get back up again? Start over?” He would be the last person to ever judge Belle for her impulses. What he did know is that the impulses were not meant to be a constant.

Belle did not hesitate to nod. “I uh—I wanted to go to Norway. With Yoongi…” She glanced over to the side seeing Yoongi give her a more apologetic look which the woman smiled in response. “And maybe you guys too? Get away from the city for a while.” She shrugged. “Might even give me inspiration on the new line.”

He thought on the idea for a moment but quickly had a wide grin on his lips. “Angel’s been talking about going on a holiday. We could talk about it over breakfast.”

“Let me just go freshen up.” Belle patted him on the shoulder before making her up the top level of the apartment to her bedroom.

Being the owner of a prestigious boutique came with its perks when she managed to get a big enough apartment for three people including safety for children. It was in the highly populated areas of the city which is meant to be the best area for the position they were in. With Angel’s first husband and Belle’s connection to the Jeon Cartel, the more witnesses around them, the better.

Walking into her bedroom, Belle had one thing in mind before going to shower as she opened her walk-in closet. On the top shelves a box had been hidden under some folded sheets. She reached out and pulled it towards her feeling the light trickle of dust flow through the air making her sneeze.

Sniffling a little she brought the brown box and sat down on the bed with it. Belle paused for a moment, a very light tinge of dread brushing through her but there was a strength that seemed to power through it. Taking a deep breath she clicked open the box. Two tiny yellow shoes on the right hand side causing her to let out a shaky sigh, smiling a little as a few tears filled her eyes.

Belle held the shoes gently, hugging them to her chest before placing them on her lap. Then her eyes moved from the bracelet to the piece of folded paper. The warmth in her belly soared again taking the letter, unfolding to reveal the heavy promise scratched across the surface. The promise that kept her up at night for this many years. How much words could impact a mind was both fascinating and terrifying.

No more though. It was time. Something her therapist said to her in one session Belle would never forget.

It’s never about one solid destination of healing. You will never know exactly when you were healed. All you can know is when you decide to start or keep healing. That is what’s important. After that, everything will flow by you…in the future, it will all seem like a dream. But you’ll feel so proud of yourself when you look back, Belle. Even more proud than I am of you now. You’ve done so well and I hope you’ll keep healing.

Belle placed her fingers at the top of the letter and ripped it half, letting out a deep of relief as she put them together, ripping it again. Smaller and smaller the pieces became breaking off like petals from the already withering flowers in her heart. A smile widened on her lips as she let out something in the mixture of a chuckle and a sob, tears freely leaving her eyes. Teeny tiny pieces piled on the bed. Helping to remind her that they were just words after all.

With steady hands she gathered them together and threw it into the bin under her nightstand.

Then Belle took the yellow shoes and walked to the living room.

The group were already settling around the kitchen counter when she arrived. Angel had Bloom in a high chair feeding her some custard looking mush which she seemed to enjoy though slightly confused by the taste.

Belle walked over to where the child was and gently placed the yellow shoes on her socked feet. She could not help but grin seeing how it fit perfectly. Everything happens for a reason.

“Those are beautiful.” Angel gently touched the soft fabric. “Did you make them?”

“I got them from the market years ago.” She softly brushed through Blooms’ thin dark hair as the child tried to peek at what her aunt put on her feet.

“We were just talking about the trip to Norway.” Taehyung spoke up leaning against the counter next to Angel.

“Yeah, why was I not invited?” Namjoon pouted a little.

Belle stammered, chuckling lightly. “It was Yoongi’s suggestion…we can all go together. I thought you wanted to do field work for the rest of the year.”

“Still would’ve liked to be included.”

Bloom squeaked in response to Namjoon’s mumble, bouncing up and down her seat.

“Might need a babysitter if Taehyung wants to get laid.” Yoongi mused.

“Ah, language.” Angel covered Blooms’ ears but the baby only grinned wide looking at Yoongi.

“She’s not going to know what it means.”

“Listen, we’ll go together.” Belle silenced the group for a moment. “Namjoon forgets to take breaks from work anyway so it’d be a good way to force him out somewhere relaxing.”

“Norway does have a low crime rate.” Taehyung spoke.

“So it’s settled. We’re going to Norway and forget about our problems for a month.” Angel announced glancing at each one of them for a nod of approval.

Belle grinned seeing the group dive into their conversations about what to do in Norway and what hotels to book or the sights to see. No worries of any impending problem or event that could ruin everything. It was just peace in the loudest way possible. All you can know is when you decide to start or keep healing. That is what’s important.

She broke for her family once.

Now she was going to keep healing for it too.

<< PREV CHAP

#jungkook #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au

283 notes · View notes

jungxk · 5 years

Text

crush

filed under. i totally forgot i wrote this. also i like the name eunmi sue me

notes. thank you to @lonelyending for reading thru this crusty story and making me feel good enough about it again to post it. also @suga-kookiemonster bc im pretty sure i sent u this like a year ago and u told me to post it it but....i forgot abt it shdgjsgd. writing/life in general has been hard recently so pls accept this kookfic to hold yous over until i update just one

genre. fluff, light comedy, light angst, smut

warnings. smut (oral sex: f receiving, penetrative unprotected sex)

length. 5.1k

the first thing jungkook thinks when he sees you is wow.

he hasn't been up for very long, and you don't even know he's looking at you through the window. yoongi-hyung has wrapped you up in his arms as you sob and sob, muted behind the protective hospital glass. even with messy hair and wet eyes he's starstruck. it's why he recoils slightly when jimin and namjoon explain to him that you're his wife.

"my," he can't even say the word. "my..."

"your wife," namjoon repeats. "you know what a wife is, right? marriage?"

"yes," jungkook huffs, digging his nails into his scalp. "i lost my memory, hyung, not my fucking brain cells."

he suddenly registers the gold band glistening on his left hand, simple and heavy. he has to take a second to collect himself. "but...but i'm twenty-three. right? i am twenty-three, yeah?"

"yeah. you are," jimin says softly.

"then how the fuck am i already married? not that i'm complaining i just," he suddenly turns pink at the thought of you in a wedding dress, clinging onto his arm, breakfast dates, late night ramen runs at the convenience store, painting the living room in a house you probably share, naked in bed on top of him. jungkook clears his throat. "it just seems a little out of character for me. i can't commit to a pair of shoes for a week let alone-"

"i think it's best if you just spoke with ____," jimin finishes before jungkook can work himself into a frenzy, a comforting hand laying on his shoulder. "you two need to talk anyway and it's best if all these answers came from her."

jungkook gulps at the thought of speaking to you, seeing you face to face. suddenly he's a cripplingly shy fourteen year old again.

"okay." he croaks. "okay."

you were even more beautiful up close.

your tear stained cheeks are glowing and blotchy when you perch on the chair beside his bed, big eyes fluttering up at him nervously. you're soft and plush and shorter than he thought and jungkook has to fist his hands in the sheets and play a counting game with the heart rate monitor in order to maintain eye contact. he feels himself start to sweat when you smile sadly at him. "sorry, i just...i don't know how to be around you normally without making you uncomfortable," you say quietly, wringing your hands together to avoid touching him.

"uncomfortable?" he queries, gaze latching onto the ring on your hand. seeing it on you gives him a nice feeling.

you nod into your lap. "yeah, um..." you look at your scuffed shoes, searching for the word. "we're usually very...touchy."

he can feel himself turning red again. "t-touchy?"

you meet his eyes and a pretty smile breaks over your face at how bashful he looks, making jungkook's cheeks tinge even pinker than they already are. you nod cutely so your earrings tinkle, eyes shining, and suddenly he understands without any context why he fell in love with you, why he married you so young. you let a comfortable silence settle over the room before taking a deep breath, bracing yourself. "how much do you remember, jungkook?"

he tries not to cave under the weight of his guilt. "not a lot about...you, that is," he finishes with a wince, your sad eyes immediately making him wilt with shame. "i remember everything up until a couple of years ago. we had a show at the japanese dome, debuted in america, and then...nothing. and now..."

"and now," you echo softly. your eyes look distant, staring at the floor.

"i'm sorry," jungkook whispers, chin touching his chest. "hyung told me...they all told me how much i loved you and...and i'm sorry i don't remember any of it. i'm so sorry."

you shake your head gently. "don't be sorry, jungkook-ah," the pet name makes his ears perk up. its a familiar, calming sound. "none of this is your fault. you didn't ask to get hit by that car." your expression turns remorseful, tugging at his heart. "if anything, this is because of me. the only reason you were out was because i asked you to go and get eggs and formula even though i should've remembered to pick some up on the way home and-"

"no, no! please don't blame yourself," jungkook tries, wishing he was close enough or even brave enough to take your hand. you look up at him and he catches a glimpse of the endless pool of love you harbour for him, like a punch to the chest. "i don't ever want you thinking this was your fault. so ple-" he pauses. "wait, formula?"

the door bursts open before he can finish, pitter patter steps rounding his bed until it reaches the other side, where you sit. a little girl with big dark eyes and curls of dark hair stares at him in wonder and elation, her cheeks dimpling just like yours before she screeches, "appa!"

jungkook's mouth goes dry. appa?

you're quick to intervene, putting yourself in the toddlers path to scoop her up in your arms. her grabby little hands struggle over your shoulder, fingers wriggling in attempt to get as close to jungkook as possible. he only stares with wide eyes and an open mouth, heart hammering in his chest when he sees the uncanny resemblances: his round nose. your brown skin but just a twinge fairer. his hooded eyes. and his stomach lurches.

"shhh, eunmi," you coo as you carry her away even with her squirming. "remember what i said before? appa is sick. appa is sick, baby-"

"we have a child?" jungkook wheezes, eyes starting to glaze over. there's a bout of silence when you look back at him guiltily, the baby's fumbling grinding to a halt when she registers the tension in the air. jungkook's breath is barely a whisper. "is that my daughter?"

your face crumples with a fresh bout of tears and eunmi looks on worriedly. she pushes her little lips into your cheek in a baby's kiss, like she's seen her father do so many times to get your attention. the word "amma," is muffled into your skin until you get yourself together and press a short kiss to her head.

yoongi rushes in, face twisted in apology. "i swear to god i turned around for one minute and-"

"it's okay, yoongi," you say quietly, stroking the baby's head. "eunmi, stay with uncle just a bit longer, okay? amma will be back in a minute..."

"appa," she whines over your shoulder, reaching for jungkook who sits helplessly in his bed. he watches with tears wetting his eyelashes, heart twisting in agony at the sight of his child he doesn't remember stretching her arms out for him. she begins to cry when he doesn't react or coo her. like he used to.

"take her, yoongi," you say shakily, passing the baby to him. the sound of eunmi's crying makes your heart shatter all over again, yoongi's quiet hushing doing nothing to qualm her sobbing as the heavy door closes behind them.

the silence that falls between the two of you is nothing short of excruciating. jungkook's head spins, completely overwhelmed: is that why you both got married so young? because of a child? was this why jimin and namjoon wouldn't say a damn thing about his life until he spoke to you first?

and then all the other questions that followed: was he a good father? when was his daughter's birthday? did she like kimchi and banana milk too? did he sing to her? read to her often?

would she ever forgive him for not being able to remember her?

"her name is eunmi," you say, looking down at the floor when jungkook starts to cry.

jungkook doesn't understand how his baby could be so pretty. she's golden brown like those sandy beaches on postcards, with chubby cheeks and twinkling dark eyes that resemble yours to a t, and that's when he realises of course she's beautiful. she's yours. you balance eunmi on your hip while you make coffee - decaf, since you're still weaning - and despite the amnesia jungkook feels like he's been here before, in this warm, happy place that is the kitchen.

"she got your nose though," you remind him, dumping the baby in his lap upon her fussing. she always seemed to wind down under his touch, and although nervous about the sudden responsibility of fatherhood, jungkook is compelled to give it. eunmi doesn't understand anything's changed so he doesn't see why he should act like it. "she's whiny before her milk too. like you."

"hey!" he retorts, but can't exactly defend himself. he twirls his fingers around her curly pigtails until she catches on and tries to stand on his thighs, reaching for his hair to yank. jungkook lets her. he's barely known his daughter a week and he's already so smitten he'd let her gut him open with a butter knife.

"she missed you, you know. when you were in hospital all this time," you say, making him look up to watch you stare into your drink. the fear still lingers in your eyes, faint and persistent. he can see it every time you look at him and it makes his body yearn to touch you like he once did, like he once would have before his brain unlearned everything his heart didn't. you laugh while watching eunmi pull his hair again, making him hiss. "even yoongi tried but no one coddles her as much as you."

"really?" he asks, face lighting up. he's so happy to hear that. jungkook hates the way the question bubbles up in the back of his throat, like it'd make a difference or it'd change how he felt. but he has to ask it. "is that why...is that why we got married so early, then?" he says, trying to sound as offhand as possible. "because of eunmi?"

you chew your lip. "yeah. i mean, you said it wasn't a big deal. because you were going to marry me eventually so it didn't make a difference, but...it doesn't really matter i guess, because that's not what everyone else thinks," you pause, tracing the rim of your mug again. "that's certainly not what your fans think."

jungkook doesn't even want to think about it. the backlash, the gossip, the name calling and dehumanisation. for the first time in his life jungkook couldn't give less of a shit about his reputation. "i'm sorry," he says, feeling like the word has lost meaning by now with how much he's said it. "i'm so sorry. not for this, for us or for eunmi. i don't regret any of that i just," he shifts the baby in his lap, still getting used to her weight. "i can only imagine what you went through."

you look a bit bewildered. "...you said that last time too." you smile again reassuringly. "please don't feel solely responsible, kook-ah. you didn't exactly get me pregnant on your own."

he flushes tomato red and you giggle at him until eunmi joins in too.

jungkook can't keep his eyes off you while you play with the baby, comb out her hair, sing her lullabies while you bathe her together. he'd always wanted a whirlwind romance as a teen and it looks like he finally got it, because he can feel himself fall head first in love with you (all over again). it didn’t make sense for someone to be so collected and easygoing after having motherhood forced onto you so abruptly. you tell him often that he's a picture-perfect dad, but jungkook still doubts he compares.

"does she need a change?" he asks, struggling to keep all of eunmi's wriggling limbs in his grip.

"nope, just hungry," you say, reaching out when he passes the baby to you. you're about to stand up and go to the guest room to feed her, but jungkook is already arranging the pillows next to him for you, grabbing a baby cloth on the side too.

"do you need another pillow?" he muses aloud, but he's already grabbing the ones on his side of the bed before you can answer, forming a wedge for you to sit nicely beside him. he looks up at you when you fail to move. "are you okay?"

"yeah i, um," you chew your lip nervously. "you don't...mind me feeding here?"

you immediately regret the question once it leaves your mouth. jungkook's crestfallen expression hits you right in the stomach, round eyes glittering up at you. he hasn't looked this upset since he woke up nearly a month ago. "why would i ever mind?”

"oh jungkook," you sniff, sitting beside him. he pulls you into the nest of pillows beside him, arm winding protectively around your shoulders. your eyes brim with sympathy tears, tired and angry and upset with treating him like a stranger.

"if i make you feel uncomfortable, i can go," he offers quietly. "if it makes you feel weird i understand..."

"no, not at all," you rush to stop him, suddenly realising how close you are. you could kiss his pink little lips if you just tilted your head up. "i just didn't want to make you feel weird. all this new stuff is happening to you, you're suddenly a husband and a father with no recollection of signing up or it and i just...i don't know how much you want to invest the second time around," you scramble to finish your sentence when he pins you with a concerned expression. “as in, i understand if you don’t want to make the same choice twice. it’s a big decision.”

he shakes his head dismissively. there wasn't a thing in the world that could make him turn his back on his family but it looked like you still needed convincing. he peers at you curiously when you position the baby. "so i can stay?"

you smile at him eagerly. "of course," you undo the nursing strap of your bra before the baby finally latches. "i actually prefer it when you're here. it makes me feel safe."

jungkook watches quietly while you hum for the baby, playing with her little hand while she drinks. the adoration seeps out of him in waves, how serene you look while you rock her, how angelic eunmi looks while she blinks her big doll eyes up at you both. she won't stay this little forever. he feels so overwhelmed by it, gathering you further in his arms with the urge to hold his family in his hands like a diamond. you don't question the little sniffles jungkook buries into your hair, resting your head on his shoulder wordlessly. you missed being held by him, missed his cotton scent and gentle breath.

"i love her so much," he whispers into the shell of your ear, entranced by the baby's little gurgles and gulps. he reaches out to run his knuckle over the velvet of her cheek, round and stuffed with milk. "i feel like i'll die, i love her so much."

"me too," you smile. "it was scary and hard for a long time but...i'm so glad we had her. i wouldn't trade her for anything."

you feel jungkook's lips trace your temple, heart stuttering upon the sudden contact. you hear what he doesn’t say: i wouldn't trade either of you.

"why are you so sweaty?" jimin scowls, noting the dark patches under jungkook's t-shirt when he tries to take the baby from his arms. "it's not even humid today."

jungkook doesn't do anything but gulp and cuddle a sleeping eunmi closer to his chest. she's become somewhat of a security blanket for him; even if she wasn't awake to play, he was always itching to hold her and nuzzle into her head when he's tense or embarrassed. like now.

"leave him alone, you know he sweats when he's shy," yoongi grins.

"stop it," jungkook mumbles.

"shy? what for?"

"because he's got a crush on his wife," namjoon snickers, knowing jungkook would whack him one if his arms weren't around his kid. "why are you looking at me like that? it's true!"

"but you can't just say it! she'll hear!" he hisses.

"you're married," jimin deadpans but it only makes the younger boy curl in on his baby more. "god, this reminds of when you two met. remember how he used to hide behind manager hyung every time ____ came in? and then i had to listen to them fuck in the next room for a year only to end up back here all over again-"

"jungkook," you call. "where did these come from?" you walk into the sitting room with a bouquet of yellow roses nestled in your arms. "did a fan send them? i didn't see a note they were just on the worktop-"

"th-those are for you," he mumbles. "i got those for you."

you look so pretty when you stare it makes him sweat harder and the three older boys all but burst a vein in their head trying not to laugh when leaving the room. there's an awkward silence where you clutch the flowers and he clutches the baby. "thank you," you say finally. "they're beautiful, i love the colour yellow..."

his big doe eyes round up to look at you even though the lower half of his face is smushed into pigtails. "you're welcome."

"can i kiss you?" you blurt out, too fast to stop it. your cheeks are still stinging and you're pretty sure you have baby powder in your hair but jungkook looks at you with awe as he nods so vigorously his earrings shake.

so you do, leaning over the arm of the sofa to press your mouth over his long enough for both your breaths to catch. you pull away, moving to sit next to him so his free arm can wind around your shoulders when you kiss him again. "please," he mumbles when you part. "please don't ask to kiss me. just do it," he leans for another long, warm kiss that leaves you light headed. "stop tip-toeing around me, okay? we're married. i know i scare easy, but not that easy."

you feel giddy, finally feeling the weight being lifted piece by piece. "okay," you peck his mole endearingly before scooting up for another kiss. "i missed this."

"me too," he hums into your mouth. "it feels like the first time but also...not the first time, you know? not just because i don't remember but like," he doesn't know how to say it, wetting his lips thoughtfully. your chapstick is cherry flavoured, his favourite. "like we've been doing this for longer than both of us even realise. longer than this life."

"i know," you nod. "i know."

after a while, you forgot about jungkook's amnesia altogether. even though the chances of him making a full recovery were slim, it all felt so normal and back to routine, all the kissing and the cuddling and the playing with eunmi. there was almost no room for trepidation anymore. until now.

you moan into jungkook's mouth when he pulls you onto his thighs, big hands palming your ass when you grind into him. he's only mildly concerned that he'll cum in his pants at this rate but he doesn't fret too much: that was secondary to undressing you and touching you and pleasing you and making you scream as loud as he could make you without waking the baby. he has nearly three years of re-learning your body to catch up on and he's eager to start.

he's quickly reminded during this process that you are a master. you know exactly where to kiss him, exactly how much pressure to kneed into his cock with your hips, exactly how much tongue he wants in his mouth until he's whining and damp for you. of course you know his body like the back of your hand - your child wasn't conceived from thin air. it makes him all the more desperate to learn, almost antsy to get his mouth and hands on you until you're writhing and breathless beneath him.

you gasp when you feel his hand slip between your legs, rubbing his fingers over your shorts. you automatically rock your covered wetness into his touch, the long whimper you muffle into his neck sending jungkook soaring through the clouds with pride. you're so lost in the feeling, having missed it so much, you're barely able to squeak a stop! when he hooks his fingers inside the waistband of your panties.

his eyes shoot open. "what's wrong?"

"j-jungkook," you shuffle in his grip, feeling so embarrassed under his scrutiny you don't know where to look. "it's not that i want you to stop but. listen, just," you cling to his shoulders, shivering when his hands drag reassuringly up to your waist. "just remember that...i've had a kid, okay? i'm not gonna look like before."

he blinks. "i don't remember what you looked like before."

"no, i mean like," you lick your lips, tasting him there. "it's still something to keep in mind. i'm not gonna be as smooth and perky in places like all those idol girls you perform next to, so just-" he watches you fumble nervously in his lap, the growing disbelief making him blink. "don't expect too much okay? things might not look the way you imagine them to and i don't want you to feel-"

"stop," he cuts off, tugging you so you're seated over his erection again. the look jungkook pins you with is so intense you can feel your pulse thrum in your ears, the harsh rise and fall of his chest making him appear that much more passionate. "this body," he slips his hands up your top, palming your skin. "made my child. i take offence to it being spoken about with anything less than admiration, even by you."

"kook-ah," you say nervously, but still let him remove your pj top over your head before you laying you under him on the bed. you don't know why your eyes suddenly prick with tears when he traces over your stretch marks and discoloured skin with his smooth lips. "this kept my daughter warm," he kisses under your navel, sliding up to your heavy breasts. he kisses each darkened nipple, swollen from the baby's mouth. "these feed her." he rises further still, before planting his mouth on your forehead in a short peck. "and this raises her. so how can i be anything but proud to touch you?"

"jungkook, stop," you sniff, tears wetting your lashes. your eyes fall shut when he wipes them away with his thumb, lips ghosting over your cheeks and nose.

"what did i say about tip-toeing around me?" he whispers, forcing you to look him in the eye. only then do you see the tears there, all the ardour and respect he holds for you pooling in those brown depths. "i'm your husband. let me be your husband."

you kiss him before you can start crying again, letting him part your mouth and taste you long and hard before finally undressing himself and slipping your shorts off. this is all a first for him, and it's been so long since you've done this it's almost like a first for you too, frantic and messy and desperate to feel jungkook lodged inside you where he belongs. you know he must share the sentiment when he splits your thighs over the narrow of his hips, hooking them there while he gets a good look of his erection rubbing through your slick.

no wonder i knocked her up, jungkook muses faintly. i don't think i can ever stop doing this.

"jungkook, please," you run a hand through his hair, grinding against his cock in encouragement but he still won't take the plunge. instead, your voice reminds him of his initial objective, causing him to saunter down between your legs faster than you can process. he's licking into you before you can have a second thought about it, mouth falling open with a loud moan when he traces around your clit in firm circles.

he has your knees over his shoulders and his arms wound around your hips so you have nowhere to go, nothing to do but buck into his attentive mouth, jungkook's groans vibrating against you until you can barely keep yourself together - he's always enjoyed this as much as you have. which is why he takes his time, explores every crevice and subsequent response, relishing in the gush of wetness when he does something right. he even goes as far as holding his tongue stagnant against your folds so you have no choice but to rub yourself into him for friction, so entranced he is by your invigorating reactions. only when you're squirming and whimpering with deliriousness does he finally give in and resume a steady pace over your swollen clit, two fingers sliding in home so you have something to come around. and you do.

messy and wet and shrieking into the pillow by your head so that you're muffled enough to not wake the baby down the hall, your orgasm drawing out longer than normal as you do your best to ride it out. jungkook carries you through it, gulping down as much of your arousal as he can manage until your hips finally drop back into the bed in post-climax exhaustion. on the contrary, the only reason he stops lapping at you is because you tug him away by the hair, bringing him up to you and between your legs again before he can do anything about it.

he splutters with a moan at the sudden contact of your wetness against his cock again, eyes fluttering shut and allowing you to bring him in, arms and legs winding securely around him so that you're flush against each other, hips rocking in tandem. jungkook is so caught up in the feeling - not the sex but the safety of being held, being connected like this - that you're the one to reach down and position his tip against your hot center, before finally running your hands down your husband's back to cup his ass and shove him into you.

jungkook gasps, breath shaking at how tight you are. you're so hot, so snug around him his eyes shut upon instinct, letting your hands guide his hips and showing him how to move in that perfect rolling motion that you're only familiar with after years of practice. and jungkook, of course, is a fast learner. it doesn't take long for him to take the reigns and fuck you just how you like it, adding in a sharp snap of his hips every now and again just to listen to you squeak in surprise. the wet sounds of your joined arousal coupled with you moaning under him is near cathartic, sending him hurtling to his finish line.

but before he can get there you shift him over, thick thighs helping you roll and pin him under you on the bed. jungkook grapples at your waist when you resume a slower but harder rock of your hips that has his length grinding against your clenching walls, his head thrown back at the intensity of it. you ride him through it, peppering the moles on his pretty neck with kisses and sucks, mouth finding his stiff little nipple to give it a swirl too. it's exactly what he needs to finish off, fingers digging into your flesh as he bucks wildly, filling you full of his seed while he calls your name. you slow to a stop when his hands finally fall limp on your thighs, his chest heaving under you and covered in sweat. you giggle. he always got so sweaty.

"you did so well, kookie," you whisper, kissing his damp neck and collar bones. his arms are suddenly around you again for comfort. "you were so good for me...always so good to me..."

"you," he croaks finally, eyes half lidded and a little delirious. "you didn't finish?"

you giggle at his genuine concern, pecking his wet lips. "i got mine, remember?"

"how many times?" jungkook is suddenly alert, tugging your wrist to get your attention before you can climb off him. his other hand is still around your middle so moving was out of the question until he allowed it. he was still inside you. "how many times do i usually make you come?"

you blink in embarrassment. you never really thought about it, let alone counted. "um...i don't know..." he waits for an answer, awfully serious about it. "a-at least two or three, i guess."

you yelp when he flips you back over, fingers immediately prying your cum soaked folds apart to nestle inside. "then don't act like we're done."

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #myfic #dont we all love a memory loss au

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butterflies-dragons · 3 years

Text

Lúthien and Sansa

Art credit: Lúthien by Aerankai and Sansa by denvertakespics

Recently I started reading about Beren and Lúthien and got really fascinated about how similar Lúthien and Sansa are.

Summary:

1. Beauty

2. Flowery names

3. From dusk to dawn

4. Little birds: nightingales

5. Big birds: eagles and falcons

6. Big cats and big dogs

7. Bat and wolf imagery

8. Singing and dancing

9. Other parallels

10. Beren and Lúthien as inspiration for Jon and Sansa

11. Bonus: from real life to fiction

1. Beauty

Ah, Lúthien! Ah, Lúthien,

more fair than any child of Men!

Oh, loveliest maid of Elvenesse,

what madness doth thee now possess?

Ah, lissom limbs and shadowy hair

and chaplet of white snowdrops there;

oh, starry diadem and bright

soft hands beneath the pale moonlight!

She left his arms and slipped away

just at the breaking of the day.

—Canto VI, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

It is told in the Lay of Leithian that Beren came stumbling into Doriath grey and bowed as with many years of woe, so great had been the torment of the road. But wandering in the summer in the woods of Neldoreth he came upon Luthien, daughter of Thingol and Melian, at a time of evening under moonrise, as she danced upon the unfading grass in the glades beside Esgalduin. Then all memory of his pain departed from him, and he fell into an enchantment; for Luthien was the most beautiful of all the Children of Iluvatar. Blue was her raiment as the unclouded heaven, but her eyes were grey as the starlit evening; her mantle was sewn with golden flowers, but her hair was dark as the shadows of twilight. As the light upon the leaves of trees, as the voice of clear waters, as the stars above the mists of the world, such was her glory and her loveliness; and in her face was a shining light.

[...] The fame of the beauty of Luthien and the wonder of her song had long gone forth from Doriath.

—Chapter 19, The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien

Lúthien was an Elf maiden/half Maia of incomparable beauty and grace, with night-dark hair, sparkling grey eyes, luminous skin, and a clear heartbreakingly lovely voice that was said to cause winter to melt into spring.

Lúthien was said to be the fairest maiden to have ever lived (a description later shared also by Arwen).

Why, O king, I desire thy daughter Tinúviel, for she is the fairest and most sweet of all maidens I have seen or dreamed of.’

Then was there a silence in the hall, save that Dairon laughed, and all who heard were astounded, but Tinúviel cast down her eyes, and the king glancing at the wild and rugged aspect of Beren burst also into laughter, whereat Beren flushed for shame, and Tinúviel’s heart was sore for him. ‘Why! wed my Tinúviel fairest of the maidens of the world, and become a prince of the woodland Elves—’tis but a little boon for a stranger to ask,’ quoth Tinwelint.

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Lúthien inherited her beauty from her mother Melian:

—Beren and Lúthien, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Sansa is a beautiful maiden as well, she inherited her beauty from her mother Catelyn Tully:

Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother’s fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys.

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

"Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. She loved nothing so well as tales of knightly valor. Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was, you can see that. I often sent away her maid so I could brush her hair myself. She had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft . . . the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper."

—A Clash of Kings - Catelyn VII

About Sansa's beauty, as I said before in another post:

I think beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but there are certain consensus and there are also certain conflicting reports about “beauty” in the universe of A Song of Ice and Fire. [...] On the other hand, we have characters like Catelyn Tully and Sansa Stark, mother and daughter, that are consensually considered beautiful. Zero conflicting reports. [...] Sansa Stark is called beautiful the most times in the entire series and by so many characters, friends and foes. There is no doubt about her beauty, and sadly that’s why her big lot of haters want for her to be disfigured so badly……….

As you can see, in a series of books full of unreliable narrators, Sansa's beauty is an absolute truth.

As I'm going to explain in the next section, Sansa's beauty is said to be "bewitching". Sansa is an "enchantress" thanks to her beauty.

Here a compilation of all the quotes about Sansa's beauty.

2. Flowery names

Lúthien was born in a forest under the stars, and niphredil first grew at the moment of her birth.

Niphredil was a small white flower that grew first at the moment of Lúthien's birth.

In one of his letters (Nº 312), Tolkien said that niphredil would be a delicate kin of a snowdrop.

The fact that a flower first grew at the moment of Lúthien's birth makes sense with the etymology of the name:

Lúthien is a Sindarin name meaning "Daughter of Flowers". The first element in the name is lúth ("blossom, inflorescence"). The second element is the feminine suffix -ien ("daughter").

In early writings, Doriathrin Luthien and Noldorin Lhūthien meant "enchantress", deriving from Primitive Quendian luktiēnē ("enchantress"; from root LUK "magic, enhantement").

And as it will be explained later, Lúthien wore fragrant flowers in her beautiful black hair.

Lúthien may have been derived from the Old English word Lufien, which means "love".

Sansa is also a flowery name:

The names Arya and Sansa are meant to represent the polar opposites of their characters, Arya being a hard sounding name, Sansa a softer more pretty name, etc.

—GRRM about The Stark Sisters’ Names

Arya, I say it ar-ya, two syllables, not three, not a-ri-a, like an operatic thing, but Arya, very sharp. I wanted something that was like a knife, that was sharp and hard sound, to be a contrast to the flowery Sansa.

—DAYS OF ICE AND FIRE Q&A (Nov. 13 2010)

Sansa is strongly linked with flowers as well (the rose of Winterfell legend, blue winter roses, the scent of flowers along the north bank of the Trident, Loras’s red rose, Myrcella’s garden, the Roadside Rose song, etc).

Sansa wore the red rose that Loras gave her in her hair.

Sansa has a lot of parallels with Jennys of Oldstones, a lady in a song famous for wearing flowers in her hair.

And about "magic", "enchantment" and "enchantress" we have these very telling quotes:

The pale pink light of dawn sparkled on branch and leaf and stone. Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond. Flowers and mushrooms alike wore coats of glass. Even the mud puddles had a bright brown sheen. Through the shimmering greenery, the black tents of his brothers were encased in a fine glaze of ice.

So there is magic beyond the Wall after all. He found himself thinking of his sisters, perhaps because he'd dreamed of them last night. Sansa would call this an enchantment, and tears would fill her eyes at the wonder of it, but Arya would run out laughing and shouting, wanting to touch it all.

—A Clash of Kings - Jon III

"Do you require guarding?" Marillion said lightly. "I am composing a new song, you should know. A song so sweet and sad it will melt even your frozen heart. 'The Roadside Rose,' I mean to call it. About a baseborn girl so beautiful she bewitched every man who laid eyes upon her."

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

Bringing Harry here was the first step in our plan, but now we need to keep him, and only you can do that. He has a weakness for a pretty face, and whose face is prettier than yours? Charm him. Entrance him. Bewitch him."

[...] Ser Harrold looked confused. "Please. One dance."

Charm him. Entrance him. Bewitch him. "If you insist."

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

As you can see, Sansa's beauty is said to be "bewitching". Sansa, like Lúthien, is an "enchantress."

3. From dusk to dawn

Lúthien is also called Tinúviel:

Tinúviel: ‘Daughter of Twilight’ [...].

—List of names in the original texts, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Tinúviel literally means "Daughter of Twilight".

Beren first saw Lúthien dancing and singing in the twilight:

Now the lies of Melko ran among Beren’s folk so that they believed evil things of the secret Elves, yet now did he see Tinúviel dancing in the twilight, and Tinúviel was in a silver-pearly dress, and her bare white feet were twinkling among the hemlock-stems. Then Beren cared not whether she were Vala or Elf or child of Men and crept near to see; and he leant against a young elm that grew upon a mound so that he might look down into the little glade where she was dancing, for the enchantment made him faint.

[...] “By dawn and dusk he sought her, but ever more hopefully when the moon shone bright. At last one night he caught a sparkle afar off, and lo, there she was dancing alone on a little treeless knoll and Dairon was not there. ”

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

At length Beren fled south from the ever-closing circle of those that hunted him, and crossed the dreadful Mountains of Shadow, and came at last worn and haggard into Doriath. There in secret he won the love of Lúthien daughter of Thingol, and he named her Tinúviel, the nightingale, because of the beauty of her singing in the twilight beneath the trees; for she was the daughter of Melian.

—A passage extracted from the Quenta, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

While Lúthien is associated with the twilight and the moon; Sansa is associated with the dawn and the sun:

All through the dark hours he kept his vigil alone. When dawn broke over the city, the dark red blooms of dragon’s breath surrounded the girls where they lay. “I dreamed of Bran,” Sansa had whispered to him. “I saw him smiling.”

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard V

One more step, she told herself, one more step. She had to keep moving. If she stopped, she would never start again, and dawn would find her still clinging to the cliff, frozen in fear. One more step, and one more step.

The ground took her by surprise. She stumbled and fell, her heart pounding. When she rolled onto her back and stared up at from where she had come, her head swam dizzily and her fingers clawed at the dirt. I did it. I did it, I didn't fall, I made the climb and now I'm going home.

[...] The eastern sky was vague with the first hint of dawn when Sansa finally saw a ghostly shape in the darkness ahead; a trading galley, her sails furled, moving slowly on a single bank of oars. As they drew closer, she saw the ship's figurehead, a merman with a golden crown blowing on a great seashell horn.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa V

When Sansa opened her eyes again, she was on her knees. She did not remember falling. It seemed to her that the sky was a lighter shade of grey. Dawn, she thought. Another day. Another new day. It was the old days she hungered for. Prayed for. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once, she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

More about Sansa and the dawn here.

4. Little birds: nightingales

Tinúviel is also a term to refer to the nightingale:

Tinúviel: [...] nightingale: name given to Lúthien by Beren.

—List of names in the original texts, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Tinúviel is a Sindarin poetic term, though not a literal name, for the 'Nightingale'. This name was first given to Lúthien of Doriath by Beren when he first saw her dancing in the forest.

Lúthien's mother, Melian, is strongly associated with nightingales:

Melian was a fay. In the gardens of [the Vala] Lórien she dwelt, and among all his fair folk none were there that surpassed her beauty, nor none more wise, nor none more skilled in magical and enchanting song. It is told that the Gods would leave their business and the birds of Valinor their mirth, that Valmar’s bells were silent, and the fountains ceased to flow, when at the mingling of the light Melian sang in the gardens of the God of Dreams. Nightingales went always with her, and their song she taught them. But she loved deep shadow, and strayed on long journeys into the Outer Lands [Middle-earth], and there filled the silence of the dawning world with her voice and the voices of her birds.

The nightingales of Melian Thingol heard and was enchanted and left his folk. Melian he found beneath the trees and was cast into a dream and a great slumber, so that his people sought him in vain.

—Beren and Lúthien, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

In an early version of the tale of Beren and Lúthien, she is called "little bird" by Tevildo:

Now gazing therethrough, for it was ajar, she saw the wide vaulted kitchens and the great fires that burnt there, and those that toiled always within, and the most were cats—but behold, there by a great fire stooped Beren, and he was grimed with labour, and Tinúviel sat and wept, but as yet dared nothing. Indeed even as she sat the harsh voice of Tevildo sounded suddenly within that chamber: ‘Nay, where then in Melko’s name has that mad Elf fled,’ and Tinúviel hearing shrank against the wall, but Tevildo caught sight of her where she was perched and cried: ‘Then the little bird sings not any more; come down or I must fetch thee, for behold, I will not encourage the Elves to seek audience of me in mockery.

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Tevildo was a big black cat, tiger size, considered the Prince of Cats:

Tevildo: The Prince of Cats, mightiest of all cats, ‘possessed of an evil spirit’; a close companion of Morgoth.

—List of names in the original texts, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

In contrast to Lúthien being called "little bird" by a big black cat, Sansa is also called "little bird" by a big man dubbed the Hound:

He was mocking her, she realized. "No one could withstand him," she managed at last, proud of herself. It was no lie.

Sandor Clegane stopped suddenly in the middle of a dark and empty field. She had no choice but to stop beside him. "Some septa trained you well. You're like one of those birds from the Summer Isles, aren't you? A pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words they taught you to recite."

"That's unkind." Sansa could feel her heart fluttering in her chest. "You're frightening me. I want to go now."

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II

As you can see, Lúthien and Sansa are called little birds by a big cat and a big dog respectively, but those beast-like creatures were antagonist figures to our heroines and the term little bird was no endearment but a way to mock and threat them.

We will come back to this cat versus dog issue later.

About Sansa and the nightingale, as I said before in another post:

She [Sansa] is also called “little bird” and a very special little bird, the one that makes the sweetest sounds, is the Nightingale.

The hours in ASOIAF have names. The hour of the Wolf is “the blackest part of the night”, and the hour of the Nightingale, comes after the hour of the Wolf. This means that the hour of the Wolf is exactly before the Dawn or the Hour of the Nightingale. Awesome right?

The song of the nightingale has been described as one of the most beautiful sounds in nature, inspiring songs, fairy tales, opera, books, and a great deal of poetry. And who is the character often described with the sweetest voice in ASOIAF? Yes that’s Sansa Stark, she sings beautifully with the sweetest voice.

So after the Long Night, the Dawn will come. The Starks will be there. Sansa will be there.

More about Sansa and the nightingale here.

Now, the association of Lúthien's mother, Melian, with nightingales:

Melian sang in the gardens of the God of Dreams. Nightingales went always with her, and their song she taught them.

—Beren and Lúthien, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Makes me think about the Children of the Forest and the Old Gods, that are also related with the Starks.

Melian is associated with songbirds, and it is said she taught nightingales how to sing and their music followed her paces. In Valinor, she dwelt in the gardens of Lórien tending its trees, and she was the most beautiful, wise and skilled in songs of enchantment of all the people of Irmo. However she journeyed often to Middle-earth for she loved the deep shadows of trees and forests.

Melian was a Maia. The Maiar were spirits that descended to earth and help to create the world, almost like angels, almost like gods.

The Children of the Forest are called singers, and after their death part of them remains on earth and lives longer inside birds:

Bran knew. "She's a child. A child of the forest." He shivered, as much from wonderment as cold. They had fallen into one of Old Nan's tales.

"The First Men named us children," the little woman said. "The giants called us woh dak nag gran, the squirrel people, because we were small and quick and fond of trees, but we are no squirrels, no children. Our name in the True Tongue means those who sing the song of earth. Before your Old Tongue was ever spoken, we had sung our songs ten thousand years."

—A Dance with Dragons - Bran II

"Someone else was in the raven," he told Lord Brynden, once he had returned to his own skin. "Some girl. I felt her."

"A woman, of those who sing the song of earth," his teacher said. "Long dead, yet a part of her remains, just as a part of you would remain in Summer if your boy's flesh were to die upon the morrow. A shadow on the soul. She will not harm you."

"Do all the birds have singers in them?"

"All," Lord Brynden said. "It was the singers who taught the First Men to send messages by raven … but in those days, the birds would speak the words. The trees remember, but men forget, and so now they write the messages on parchment and tie them round the feet of birds who have never shared their skin."

—A Dance with Dragons - Bran III

As you can see, the Maiar sounds really similar to the Old Gods and the Children of the Forest. Particularly Luthien's mother, Melian, that is associated with trees (Old Gods, weirwoods) and nightingales (crows, ravens).

5. Big birds: eagles and falcons

Lúthien's father, Thingol, locked her up in a tree house, that is basically a bird's nest, since Lúthien is also called Tinúviel that means nightingale:

Now Tinwelint let build high up in that strange tree, as high as men could fashion their longest ladders to reach, a little house of wood, and it was above the first branches and was sweetly veiled in leaves. Now that house had three corners and three windows in each wall, and at each corner was one of the shafts of Hirilorn. There then did Tinwelint bid Tinúviel dwell until she would consent to be wise, and when she fared up the ladders of tall pine these were taken from beneath and no way had she to get down again.

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Sansa, under the guise of Alayne Stone, is the prisoner of Petyr Baelish in the Eyrie, that literally means falcon's nest:

Alayne's apartments in the Maiden's Tower were larger and more lavish than the little bedchamber where she'd been kept when Lady Lysa was alive. She had a dressing room and a privy of her own now, and a balcony of carved white stone that looked off across the Vale. While Gretchel was tending to the fire, Alayne padded barefoot across the room and slipped outside. The stone was cold beneath her feet, and the wind was blowing fiercely, as it always did up here, but the view made her forget all that for half a heartbeat. Maiden's was the easternmost of the Eyrie's seven slender towers, so she had the Vale before her, its forests and rivers and fields all hazy in the morning light. The way the sun was hitting the mountains made them look like solid gold.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne I

Beren and Lúthien were rescued by great eagles:

Thus the quest of the Silmaril was like to have ended in ruin and despair; but in that hour above the wall of the valley three mighty birds appeared, flying northward with wings swifter than the wind.

Among all birds and beasts the wandering and need of Beren had been noised, and Huan himself had bidden all things watch, that they might bring him aid. High above the realm of Morgoth Thorondor and his vassals soared, and seeing now the madness of the Wolf and Beren’s fall came swiftly down, even as the powers of Angband were released from the toils of sleep. Then they lifted up Beren and Lúthien from the earth, and bore them aloft into the clouds . . .

(As they passed high over the lands) Lúthien wept, for she thought that Beren would surely die; he spoke no word, nor opened his eyes, and knew thereafter nothing of his flight. And at the last the eagles set them down upon the borders of Doriath; and they were come to that same dell whence Beren had stolen in despair and left Lúthien asleep.

There the eagles laid her at Beren’s side and returned to the peaks of Crissaegrim and their high eyries [...].

—The Quenta Silmarillion, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Sansa expects for the Knights of the Vale (falcons) to help her to re-claim Winterfell:

Her eyes widened. "He is not Lady Waynwood's heir. He's Robert's heir. If Robert were to die . . ."

Petyr arched an eyebrow. "When Robert dies. Our poor brave Sweetrobin is such a sickly boy, it is only a matter of time. When Robert dies, Harry the Heir becomes Lord Harrold, Defender of the Vale and Lord of the Eyrie. Jon Arryn's bannermen will never love me, nor our silly, shaking Robert, but they will love their Young Falcon . . . and when they come together for his wedding, and you come out with your long auburn hair, clad in a maiden's cloak of white and grey with a direwolf emblazoned on the back . . . why, every knight in the Vale will pledge his sword to win you back your birthright. So those are your gifts from me, my sweet Sansa . . . Harry, the Eyrie, and Winterfell. That's worth another kiss now, don't you think?"

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

Sansa also wishes to have falcon's wings:

A falcon soared above the frozen waterfall, blue wings spread wide against the morning sky. Would that I had wings as well.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne I

Unbeknownst to Sansa, another kind of wings are reserved for her. More about this subject later.

6. Big cats and big dogs

During her adventures in order to help Beren, Lúthien interacts with a big black cat named Tevildo, and with a big dog named Huan, a great wolfhound.

As was said before, Tevildo was a big black cat, tiger size, considered the Prince of Cats:

Tevildo The Prince of Cats, mightiest of all cats, ‘possessed of an evil spirit’; a close companion of Morgoth.

—List of names in the original texts, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Tevildo was an evil fay in the form of a great black cat with a collar of gold, which gave him much of his evil power. He was considered a prince of the servants of Melko and lived in a hilltop castle near Angamandi with other tiger-size cats. During the Quest for the Silmaril, Beren was captured by Melko and forced to work in Tevildo's kitchens. However, the cat was defeated by his archenemy Huan and Tinúviel, who forced him to give up his collar and reveal the spell which held the stones of his castle together. Melko learned Tevildo had lost his power and the cats reduced to normal size and exiled them.

Later Tevildo's place in the narrative was replaced by that of the Necromancer, Thû (later renamed Sauron), in the later Legendarium. Thû (and later Sauron) was the "Lord of Werewolves", in contrast to Tevildo's position as "Prince of Cats"; the cat-versus-dog theme prominent in the "Tale of Tinúviel" was thus eliminated in later writings.

Here we can see an illustration of Luthien's encounter with Tevildo:

Art credit: “but Tevildo caught sight of her where she was perched” by Alan Lee for Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Don't you find this scene familiar? A beautiful lady encountering with a black cat while she is pressed against a wall?

When I read about Tevildo discovering Lúthien shrunk against the wall:

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

I immediately thought of Sansa's encounter with Balerion, that black tomcat of the Red Keep while she was pressed against a wall:

The noise receded as she moved deeper into the castle, never daring to look back for fear that Joffrey might be watching … or worse, following. The serpentine steps twisted ahead, striped by bars of flickering light from the narrow windows above. Sansa was panting by the time she reached the top. She ran down a shadowy colonnade and pressed herself against a wall to catch her breath. When something brushed against her leg, she almost jumped out of her skin, but it was only a cat, a ragged black tom with a chewed-off ear. The creature spit at her and leapt away.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa II

And who was Balerion the black tomcat?

The Red Keep was full of cats: lazy old cats dozing in the sun, cold-eyed mousers twitching their tails, quick little kittens with claws like needles, ladies’ cats all combed and trusting, ragged shadows prowling the midden heaps. One by one Arya had chased them down and snatched them up and brought them proudly to Syrio Forel … all but this one, this one-eared black devil of a tomcat. “That’s the real king of this castle right there,” one of the gold cloaks had told her. “Older than sin and twice as mean. One time, the king was feasting the queen’s father, and that black bastard hopped up on the table and snatched a roast quail right out of Lord Tywin’s fingers. Robert laughed so hard he like to burst. You stay away from that one, child.”

—A Game of Thrones - Arya III

As you can see, Tevildo and Balerion sound very similar, both are black cats, both are called evil, both live in a castle, both are considered royals, Tevildo a prince, Balerion a king, and both found a beautiful lady pressed against a wall.

On the other hand, Lúthien befriends a great wolfhound named Huan.

Huan, the Hound of Valinor, was a great wolfhound, one of the hunting dogs of Oromë the Hunter.

Huan was given by Oromë to his friend Celegorm, one of the Sons of Fëanor and accompanied him on his huntings in the regions of Valinor. When the Ñoldor under Fëanor rebelled, Huan went with his master to Middle-earth.

Huan was with Celegorm and Curufin who were hunting when he smelled Lúthien and captured and brought the maid before Celegorm.

Celegorm captured Lúthien and plotted to marry her, thus forcing a bond of kinship with Lúthien's father, Thingol.

But Huan the hound was true of heart, and the love of Luthien had fallen upon him in the first hour of their meeting; and he grieved at her captivity. Therefore he came often to her chamber; and at night he lay before her door, for he felt that evil had come to Nargothrond. Luthien spoke often to Huan in her loneliness, telling of Beren, who was the friend of all birds and beasts that did not serve Morgoth; ad Huan understood all that was said. For he comprehended the speech of all things with voice; but it was permitted to him thrice only ere his death to speak with words. Now Huan devised a plan for the aid of Luthien; and coming at a time of night he brought her cloak, and for the first time he spoke, giving her counsel. Then he led her by secret ways out of Nargothrond, and they fled north together; and he humbled his pride and suffered her to ride upon him in the fashion of a steed, even as the Orcs did at times upon great wolves. Thus they made great speed, for Huan was swift and tireless.

—Chapter 19, The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien

So, in a superficial layer, Huan could be paralleled with Sandor Clegane, dubbed the Hound, since Huan was Celegorm's hunting hound and the Hound was the sworn sword and later Kingsguard of Joffrey Baratheon.

Celegorm was dubbed the Fair, had fair hair and was a great huntsman, the same way Joffrey was blonde and comely, and loved hunting and killing.

Celegorm wanted to marry Lúthien while Joffrey was actually betrothed with Sansa.

There is also the fact that Huan helped Lúthien escape the imprisonment imposed by Celegorm, gave her back her magic cloak (made of her shadowy hair), and fled north together, that somehow reversely resembles Sandor Clegane's offer to Sansa to help her flee north the night of the battle of the Blackwater, offer that Sansa rejected. That same night after a sexual assault attempt, the Hound ripped his white kingsguard's cloak (stained by blood and fire) off and left it fell on the floor.

But in a deeper layer, Huan was to Lúthien the same way the direwolves are to the Stark children.

Indeed, Huan was a gift from a god, the same way the direwolves were a gift from the Old Gods to the Stark children.

Among the six direwolves, Ghost is the one that resembles Huan the most, not only because Huan, despite having grey fur, is often depicted as white, as you can see here:

Art credit: "Luthien and Huan" by Elena Kukanova

But because Huan, like Ghost, is mute.

Huan had been granted special powers by the Valar, he was as large as a small horse, immortal, tireless and sleepless, and was allowed to speak three times before he died. It was also prophesied that he could not be killed unless it was by the greatest wolf that ever lived; in this case a werewolf.

Huan, taking pity of Lúthien disobeyed his master Celegorm, helped her scape, joined Beren and Lúthien in their quest and adventures, turned against his master to protect Lúthien and ultimately died protecting Beren.

Huan used the three times he was allowed to speak to help Beren and Lúthien and say farewell to them.

In a similar way, despite being mute, Jon was the only one that "heard" Ghost in the summer snows when the Starks found the direwolves.

Now, in an early version of the tale of Beren and Lúthien, Tevildo the Prince of Cats clashed against Huan the great wolfhound. It was a battle between a cat and a dog, Tevildo and Huan were archenemies. But in later versions of the tale, Tevildo was replaced by Sauron, who clashed against Huan, after taking the form of a werewolf. Huan won that battle. But much later, Huan was mortally wounded by Carcharoth, the greatest, most powerful wolf to ever live, and Huan died according it was prophesied.

The clash and contrast between wolves and hounds is also present in the universe of A Song of Ice and Fire; but in this case, the direwolves are the heroes while the hounds are the antagonists (Bolton's bitches, the Hound, etc).

This wolves versus hounds theme is particularly depicted in Jon's and Sansa's chapters:

Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal.

Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

—A Game of Thrones - Jon I

Rattleshirt’s dogs greeted him with a chorus of snarls and growls and wild barking, as ever, but the direwolf paid them no mind. Six days ago, the largest hound had attacked him from behind as the wildlings camped for the night, but Ghost had turned and lunged, sending the dog fleeing with a bloody haunch. The rest of the pack maintained a healthy distance after that.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon I

"They’re dogs and he’s a wolf,” said Jon. “They know he’s not their kind.” No more than I am yours.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon I

It happened twice more that night, and again in the morning, when she woke to find him hard. The wildlings were stirring by then, and several could not help but notice what was going on beneath the pile of furs. Jarl told them to be quick about it, before he had to throw a pail of water over them. Like a pair of rutting dogs, Jon thought afterward. Was that what he’d become?

—A Storm of Swords - Jon III

Eddard Stark had left before dawn, Septa Mordane informed Sansa as they broke their fast. “The king sent for him. Another hunt, I do believe. There are still wild aurochs in these lands, I am told.”

“I’ve never seen an aurochs,” Sansa said, feeding a piece of bacon to Lady under the table. The direwolf took it from her hand, as delicate as a queen.

Septa Mordane sniffed in disapproval. “A noble lady does not feed dogs at her table,” she said, breaking off another piece of comb and letting the honey drip down onto her bread.

“She’s not a dog, she’s a direwolf,” Sansa pointed out as Lady licked her fingers with a rough tongue. “Anyway, Father said we could keep them with us if we want.”

The septa was not appeased. “You’re a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to that creature you’re as willful as your sister Arya.” She scowled. “And where is Arya this morning?”

“She wasn’t hungry,” Sansa said, knowing full well that her sister had probably stolen down to the kitchen hours ago and wheedled a breakfast out of some cook’s boy.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

Sansa woke and found the old blind dog beside her once again. “I wish that you were Lady,” she said.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI

The same way Lúthien bonded with Huan, I can see Sansa bonding with Ghost when she meets with Jon Snow and the mute direwolf again. Oh it would be so sweet...

7. Bat and wolf imagery

At some point during their adventures, Lúthien took the form of a giant bat while Beren took the form of a werewolf.

To transform into a giant bat, Lúthien used the coat of a female vampire servant of Sauron named Thuringwethil, as a cloak. The same way Beren transforms into a werewolf by using the coat of a werewolf named Draugluin as a cloak as well.

And then the giant bat rode upon the werewolf:

Long he [Huan] had pondered in his heart what counsel he could devise for the lightning of the peril of these two whom he loved. He turned aside therefore at Sauron's isle, as they ran northward again, and he took thence the ghastly wolf-hame of Draugluin, and the bat-fell of ThurIngwethil. She was the messenger of Sauron, and was wont to fly in vampire's form to Angband; and her greatfingered wings were barbed at each joint's end with and iron claw. Clad in these dreadful garments Huan and Luthien ran through Taur-nu-Fuin, and all things fled before them.

Beren seeing their approach was dismayed; and he wondered, for he had heard the voice of Tinuviel, and he thought it now a phantom for his ensnaring. But they halted and cast aside their disguise, and Luthien ran towards him.

[...] By the counsel of Huan and the arts of Luthien he was arrayed now in the hame of Draugluin, and she in the winged fell of ThurIngwethil. Beren became in all things like a werewolf to look upon, save that in his eyes there shone a spirit grim indeed but clean; and horror was in his glance as he saw upon his flank a batlike creature clinging with creased wings. Then howling under the moon he leaped down the hill, and the bat wheeled and flittered above him.

—Chapter 19, The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien

Huan stayed with Lúthien, and hearing of their perplexity and the purpose Beren had still to go to Angband, he went and fetched them from the ruined halls of Thû a werewolf’s coat and a bat’s. Three times only did Huan speak with the tongue of Elves or Men. The first was when he came to Lúthien in Nargothrond. This was the second, when he devised the desperate counsel for their quest. So they rode North, till they could no longer go on horse in safety. Then they put on the garments as of wolf and bat, and Lúthien in guise of evil fay rode upon the werewolf.

—A further extract from the Quenta, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Now there he laid

before their feet, as dark as shade,

two grisly shapes that he had won

from that tall isle in Sirion:

a wolfhame huge—its savage fell

was long and matted, dark the spell

that drenched the dreadful coat and skin;

the werewolf cloak of Draugluin;

the other was a batlike garb

with mighty fingered wings, a barb

like iron nail at each joint’s end—

such wings as their dark cloud extend

against the moon, when in the sky

from Deadly Nightshade screeching fly

Thû’s messengers.

—The narrative in the Lay of Leithian to its termination, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Draugluin: Greatest of the werewolves of Thû (Sauron).

Thuringwethil: Name taken by Lúthien in bat-form before Morgoth.

—List of names in the original texts, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Sansa is said to have taken the form of a wolf with big leather wings like a bat:

"The Imp, it's thought. Him and his little wife."

"What wife?"

"I forgot, you've been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head."

That's stupid, Arya thought. Sansa only knows songs, not spells, and she'd never marry the Imp.

—A Storm of Swords - Arya XIII

Songs can be spells as well, Arya... Just ask Lúthien.

The image of a giant bat riding upon a werewolf sounds pretty similar to a wolf with big leather wings like a bat.

There is also the fact that GRRM has used "bat wings" as a reference to "dragon wings," and Sansa has a lot of bat/dragon wings imagery around her.

We will come back to this bat and wolf imagery issue later.

To finish this section, I leave you with this crossover fan-art where Lúthien, very impressed, asks Sansa about the rumor of her transformation into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat.

8. Singing and dancing

Before meeting Beren, Lúthien lived a peaceful life singing and dancing beautifully in the forest:

But Tinúviel’s joy was rather in the dance, and no names are set with hers for the beauty and subtlety of her twinkling feet.

Now it was the delight of Dairon and Tinúviel to fare away from the cavernous palace of Tinwelint their father and together spend long time amid the trees. There often would Dairon sit upon a tussock or a tree-root and make music while Tinúviel danced thereto, and when she danced to the playing of Dairon more lissom was she than Gwendeling, more magical than Tinfang Warble neath the moon, nor may any see such lilting save be it only in the rose gardens of Valinor where Nessa dances on the lawns of never-fading green.

[...] “Often and often she came there after and danced and sang to herself.”

[...] At length one day as she danced alone he stepped out more boldly and said to her: ‘Tinúviel, teach me to dance.’ ‘Who art thou?’ said she. ‘Beren. I am from across the Bitter Hills.’ ‘Then if thou wouldst dance, follow me,’ said the maiden, and she danced before Beren away, and away into the woods, nimbly and yet not so fast that he could not follow, and ever and anon she would look back and laugh at him stumbling after, saying ‘Dance, Beren, dance! as they dance beyond the Bitter Hills!’ In this way they came by winding paths to the abode of Tinwelint, and Tinúviel beckoned Beren beyond the stream, and he followed her wondering down into the cave and the deep halls of her home.”

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

As it will be explained later, Lúthien's singing and dancing are not only beautiful aesthetically, those skills were magic and worked as spells and enchantments as well.

Leaving out the actual singers, Sansa is the female character more connected with music, singing and dancing. She plays some instruments (high harp, bells), has a sweet singing voice and loves to dance:

Sansa could sew and dance and sing. She wrote poetry. She knew how to dress. She played the high harp and the bells.

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

So the singer played for her, so soft and sad that Arya only heard snatches of the words, though the tune was half-familiar. Sansa would know it, I bet. Her sister had known all the songs, and she could even play a little, and sing so sweetly.

—A Storm of Swords - Arya IV

Winterfell, she might have said. I smell snow and smoke and pine needles. I smell the stables. I smell Hodor laughing, and Jon and Robb battling in the yard, and Sansa singing about some stupid lady fair. [...]

—A Feast for Crows - Arya II

“Of Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

When the musicians began to play, she timidly laid her hand on Tyrion's and said, "My lord, should we lead the dance?"

[...] "Lady Sansa." Ser Garlan Tyrell stood beside the dais. "Would you honor me? If your lord consents?"

The Imp's mismatched eyes narrowed. "My lady can dance with whomever she pleases."

Perhaps she ought to have remained beside her husband, but she wanted to dance so badly . . .

[...] Smiling, she let the music take her, losing herself in the steps, in the sound of flute and pipes and harp, in the rhythm of the drum . . . and from time to time in Ser Garlan's arms, when the dance brought them together.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

"Lord Nestor will have no singers at the feast, only flutes and fiddles for the dancing." What would she do when the music began to play? It was a vexing question, to which her heart and head gave different answers. Sansa loved to dance, but Alayne...

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

"Would you honor me with this dance, my lady?"

"You're very kind," she said, as he led her to the floor.

He was her first partner of the evening, but far from the last. Just as Petyr had promised, the young knights flocked around her, vying for her favor.

[. . . ] When the dance was done she excused herself, and went back to her place to have a drink of wine.

And there he stood, Harry the Heir himself; tall, handsome, scowling. "Lady Alayne. May I partner you in this dance?"

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

As we will see in a next section, Sansa's singing already performed an act of magic/enchantment, she tamed a wild beast full of rage and lust.

9. Other parallels

9.1. Beautiful hair

Lúthien and Sansa have beautiful hair that is their signature feature:

[...] but dark as shadow was her hair [...]

—Canto I, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

[...] and the hair of Tinúviel which was dark and finer than the most delicate threads of twilight began suddenly to grow very fast indeed [...]

—The Tale of Tinúviel, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

Sansa had gotten their mother’s fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys.

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

I often sent away her maid so I could brush her hair myself. She [Sansa] had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft . . . the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper."

—A Clash of Kings - Catelyn VII

"You will be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight, as lovely as your lady mother at your age. I cannot seat you on the dais, but you'll have a place of honor above the salt and underneath a wall sconce. The fire will be shining in your hair, so everyone will see how fair of face you are.

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

Lúthien wore fragrant flowers in her beautiful black hair:

[...] and from her hair the fragrance fell

of elvenflowers in elven-dell.

—Canto V, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

The perfume of her flower-twined hair [...]

—Canto IX, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

Behind closed doors

they sat, while Beren told his tale

of Doriath; and words him fail

recalling Lúthien dancing fair

with wild white roses in her hair [...]

—A second extract from The Lay of Leithian, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

This reminds me of Jenny of Oldstones, a lady in a song famous for wearing flowers in her hair:

"There's a song," he remembered. "'Jenny of Oldstones, with the flowers in her hair.'"

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V

As was mentioned previously in this post, Sansa is strongly linked with flowers as well (the rose of Winterfell legend, blue winter roses, the scent of flowers along the north bank of the Trident, Loras’s red rose, Myrcella’s garden, the Roadside Rose song, etc).

Sansa wore the red rose that Loras gave her in her hair.

Sansa has a lot of parallels with Jennys of Oldstones. You can read about it here:

WE’RE ALL JUST SONGS IN THE END. IF WE ARE LUCKY: JENNY OF OLDSTONES AND THE PRINCE OF DRAGONFLIES

THE BLACK PRINCE WITH THE WHITE GUARDIAN - Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, the Tourney at Ashford Meadow and the songs about Florian and Jonquil.

9.2. Radiant

Lúthien is often described as radiant:

[...] and there she dances all alone

upon a treeless knoll of stone!

Her mantle blue with jewels white

caught all the rays of frosted light.

She shone with cold and wintry flame,

as dancing down the hill she came,

and passed his watchful silent gaze,

a glimmer as of stars ablaze.

—Canto IV, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

[...] for Luthien was the most beautiful of all the Children of Iluvatar. Blue was her raiment as the unclouded heaven, but her eyes were grey as the starlit evening; her mantle was sewn with golden flowers, but her hair was dark as the shadows of twilight. As the light upon the leaves of trees, as the voice of clear waters, as the stars above the mists of the world, such was her glory and her loveliness; and in her face was a shining light.

[...] But suddenly some power, descended from of old from divine race, possessed Luthien, and casting back her foul raiment she stood forth, small before the might of Carcharoth, but radiant and terrible.

—Chapter 19, The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien

Sansa is described as radiant by Jon:

His half sisters escorted the royal princes. Arya was paired with plump young Tommen, whose white-blond hair was longer than hers. Sansa, two years older, drew the crown prince, Joffrey Baratheon. He was twelve, younger than Jon or Robb, but taller than either, to Jon's vast dismay. Prince Joffrey had his sister's hair and his mother's deep green eyes. A thick tangle of blond curls dripped down past his golden choker and high velvet collar. Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey's pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell's Great Hall.

—A Game of Thrones - Jon I

The word “radiant” has romantic connotations, especially if you consider that GRRM’s love for medieval tourneys started with the movie Ivanhoe (1952), years before he even read the actual book by Sir Walter Scott. In the movie Liz Taylor played the role of the Jew girl Rebecca, and little George fell in love with her. When the author remembered his young infatuation, he referred to the actress as “radiant.” Read more about it here.

9.3. Skinchanging

As was explained previously, Lúthien had the ability of shapeshifting. She turned into a giant bat by wearing a female vampire's coat as a cloak and helped Beren to turn into a werewolf by wearing a werewolf's coat as a cloak as well. Then the bat rode upon the werewolf.

This image of a giant bat riding upon a werewolf is very similar to the image of Sansa turning into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat.

Sansa is a skinchanger as well.

Acording to GRRM, all the Stark children are wargs or skinchangers:

“I don’t think this is necessarily a ‘Stark’ ability, though all the children have it to one extent or another. They also realize it to one extent or another”. [Source]

Q: Are all the Stark children wargs/skin changers with their wolves? A: To a greater or lesser degree, yes, but the amount of control varies widely. [Source]

Oh, George said all the Stark children of this generation were full Wargs. I thought they were like one shot Wargs and were only bonded to their wolves but no they can warg into just about anything. Bran is just the only one working on it. [Source]

All of the Stark children were blessed with a direwolf and the ability to change skins with those magical creatures. The direwolves were sent by the old gods to protect and guide the Stark children. The direwolves are not only protectors and guides for the Stark children, they are also one with them.

Since Lady died, Sansa lost the opportunity to form a deeper bond with her wolf and to further develop and recognize her skinchanger abilities.

But I believe that Lady’s soul still remains in the world, and that’s why Bran calls and counts Sansa’s wolf as “Lady’s Shade.”

So it is possible that part of Lady still remains inside of Sansa, and that’s why Sansa always dreams with Lady (wolf dreams). Only Jon stopped dreaming with Ghost for a time, coincidentally, when they were separated by the Wall.

Most of Sansa’s dreams with Lady are about both of them running in a godswood (Lady’s bones are buried near Winterfell’s godswood), and although Sansa doesn’t remember much of her dreams, she always whispers and/or wakes up with Lady’s name on her lips. Even after her nightmares, she thinks of her Lady.

Some readers have speculated about Sansa and her link with other animals, and the possibility of Sansa changing skins with them, like the black tomcat of the Red Keep, the old blind dog of the Fingers, and even the blue falcon that she observed flying above the Eyrie.

During her encounter with the black tomcat of the Red Keep, Sansa “almost jumped out her skin.” This is a very interesting wording that almost sounds like skinchanging:

The serpentine steps twisted ahead, striped by bars of flickering light from the narrow windows above. Sansa was panting by the time she reached the top. She ran down a shadowy colonnade and pressed herself against a wall to catch her breath. When something brushed against her leg, she almost jumped out of her skin, but it was only a cat, a ragged black tom with a chewed-off ear. The creature spit at her and leapt away.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa II

“Cats were vain and cruel, always ready to turn on you”, maybe, that’s why after approaching Sansa willingly, the black tomcat “spit at her and leapt away”. This scene happens when Sansa was coming to the godswood to meet with Dontos for the first time. After Sansa arrives, she immediately thinks of Lady.

Sansa bonds with the old blind dog of the Fingers fast and easily. The dog is affectionate, tries to defend Sansa from Marillion’s attack, and is next to her after the nightmares of past sexual abuse by the Hound and Tyrion, provoked by the singer’s attack:

It was eight long days until Lysa Arryn arrived. On five of them it rained, while Sansa sat bored and restless by the fire, beside the old blind dog. He was too sick and toothless to walk guard with Bryen anymore, and mostly all he did was sleep, but when she patted him he whined and licked her hand, and after that they were fast friends. […] “Alayne.” Her aunt’s singer stood over her. “Sweet Alayne. I am Marillion. I saw you come in from the rain. The night is chill and wet. Let me warm you.” The old dog raised his head and growled, but the singer gave him a cuff and sent him slinking off, whimpering. […] “I’ll have a song from you,” he rasped, and Sansa woke and found the old blind dog beside her once again. “I wish that you were Lady,” she said.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI

And once again trapped in a tower, Sansa wishes she has wings:

A falcon soared above the frozen waterfall, blue wings spread wide against the morning sky. Would that I had wings as well.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne I

As you can see, Sansa warging abilities are hidden so deep in the text, they only shyly appear in the middle of George’s prose as little pieces of poetry:

My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel.

Now tell me, what is that if not skinchanging?

And talking about birds, Sansa has already changed her skin with some birds, she was a talking little bird of the Summer Islands (repeating the right things to survive), then a mockingbird (as Petyr Baelish daughter), and she’s about to become a falcon (if she marries Harry).

And since cloaks could also be considered another skin, Sansa has already changed various cloaks. She was cloaked by a Lannister, then by her new father Petyr Baelish, and is about to be cloaked again by an Arryn.

But Sansa is a wolf, no matter how many skins she wears, she will always be a wolf.

And while Sansa wishes she had feathery wings, unbeknownst to her, she became part of the popular folklore when the smallfolk began to imagine her as a witchy kingslayer that later vanished in a puff of brimstone or changed into a “wolf with big leather wings like a bat” and flew away:

“I forgot, you’ve been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell’s daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head.”

—A Storm of Swords - Arya XIII

“The dwarf’s wife did the murder with him,” swore an archer in Lord Rowan’s livery. “Afterward, she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws.”

—A Storm of Swords - Jaime VII

In the same book and with a very similar wording, Jon dreams of a ghastly direwolf wandering around the Crypts of Winterfell:

The crypts were growing darker. A light has gone out somewhere. “Ygritte?” he whispered. “Forgive me. Please.” But it was only a direwolf, grey and ghastly, spotted with blood, his her golden eyes shining sadly through the dark . .

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VIII

My personal theory is that the ghastly direwolf is Lady, because, among other reasons, this wouldn’t be the first time that Jon confused Ygritte with another redhead.

These legends of Sansa the witch, the unnatural warg, the beastling, the skinchanger, the winged wolf that flew away from a tower window or vanished in a puff of brimstone, are at the same level of the legends about Bloodraven warging into a one-eyed dog and turning into a mist from a century ago:

How many eyes does Lord Bloodraven have? the riddle ran. A thousand eyes, and one. Some claimed the King’s Hand was a student of the dark arts who could change his face, put on the likeness of a one-eyed dog, even turn into a mist. Packs of gaunt gray wolves hunted down his foes, men said, and carrion crows spied for him and whispered secrets in his ear. Most of the tales were only tales, Dunk did not doubt, but no one could doubt that Bloodraven had informers everywhere.

—The Mystery Knight

If Sansa or Lady’s Shade have really changed skins with the old blind dog of the Fingers, that would be almost the same as Bloodraven warging or shapechanging into a one-eyed dog. By the way, the old blind dog’s master’s name was Bryen, a name way too similar to Brynden (Bloodraven’s name)…

But back again to the “wolf with big leather wings like a bat.” This interesting image reminds me of dragons instead of bats, and I think that was precisely George’s intention, he was subtly referring to dragon wings:

[…] “They say the child was …” […] “Monstrous,” Mirri Maz Duur finished for him. […] “Twisted. I drew him forth myself. He was scaled like a lizard, blind, with the stub of a tail and small leather wings like the wings of a bat.

—A Game of Thrones - Daenerys IX

In the center of the Plaza of Pride stood a red brick fountain whose waters smelled of brimstone, and in the center of the fountain a monstrous harpy made of hammered bronze. Twenty feet tall she reared. She had a woman’s face, with gilded hair, ivory eyes, and pointed ivory teeth. Water gushed yellow from her heavy breasts. But in place of arms she had the wings of a bat or a dragon, her legs were the legs of an eagle, and behind she wore a scorpion’s curled and venomous tail.

—A Storm of Swords - Daenerys II

Tyrion scarce touched his food, Sansa noticed, though he drank several cups of the wine. For herself, she tried a little of the Dornish eggs, but the peppers burned her mouth. Otherwise she only nibbled at the fruit and fish and honeycakes. Every time Joffrey looked at her, her tummy got so fluttery that she felt as though she'd swallowed a bat.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

So, this fascinating image of a “wolf with big leather wings like a bat” could be foreshadowing of Sansa wearing a Targaryen cloak in the future. Or at least having the support and protection of someone related to dragons.

9.4. Hades and Persephone imagery

Beren and Lúthien have a heavy Hades and Persephone imagery around them.

Lúthien could melt winter into spring with the magic of her voice and song.

During their adventures, Beren was severely wounded many times, and while Lúthien had healing abilities, one time he was nearly dead and other time he actually died.

After losing his hand, Beren recovers only after a long period of unconsciousness, and it was said that when he woke the spring came again.

Later, when Beren actually died, Lúthien descended to the lands of death and winter came over the lands of her father. Then, after gaining Beren's life again, she came back to earth and ended the winter with the touch of her hands.

These quotes exempt me from further explanation:

The wind of winter winds his horn;

the misty veil is rent and torn.

The wind dies; the starry choirs

leap in the silent sky to fires

whose light comes bitter-cold and sheer

through domes of frozen crystal clear.

A sparkle through the darkling trees,

a piercing glint of light he sees,

and there she dances all alone

upon a treeless knoll of stone!

Her mantle blue with jewels white

caught all the rays of frosted light.

She shone with cold and wintry flame,

as dancing down the hill she came,

and passed his watchful silent gaze,

a glimmer as of stars ablaze.

And snowdrops sprang beneath her feet,

and one bird, sudden, late and sweet,

shrilled as she wayward passed along.

A frozen brook to bubbling song

awoke and laughed; but Beren stood

still bound enchanted in the wood.

Her starlight faded and the night

closed o'er the snowdrops glimmering white.

Thereafter on a hillock green

he saw far off the elven-sheen

of shining limb and jewel bright

often and oft on moonlit night;

and Daeron's pipe awoke once more,

and soft she sang as once before.

Then nigh he stole beneath the trees,

and heartache mingled with hearts-ease.

A night there was when winter died;

then all alone she sang and cried

and danced until the dawn of spring, [...]

—Canto IV, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

And he saw her afar as leaves in the winds of autumn, and in winter as a star upon a hill, but a chain was upon his limbs. There came a time near dawn on the eve of spring, and Luthien danced upon a green hill; and suddenly she began to sing. Keen, heart-piercing was her song as the song of the lark that rises from the gates of night and pours its voice among the dying stars, seeing the sun behind the walls of the world; and the song of Luthien released the behind the walls of the world; and the song of Luthien released the bonds of winter, and the frozen waters spoke, and flowers sprang from the cold earth where her feet had passed. Then the spell of silence fell from Beren, and he called to her, crying Tinuviel; and the woods echoed the name. Then she halted in wonder, and fled no more, and Beren came to her. But as she looked on him, doom fell upon her, and she loved him; yet she slipped from his arms and vanished from his sight even as the day was breaking.

[...] Now Beren and Luthien Tinuviel went free again and together walked through the woods renewing for a time their joy; and though winter came it hurt them not, for flowers lingered where Luthien went, and the birds sang beneath the snow clad hills.

—Chapter 19, The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien

There the eagles laid her at Beren’s side and returned to the peaks of Crissaegrim and their high eyries; but Huan came to her, and together they tended Beren, even as before when she healed him of the wound that Curufin gave to him. But this wound was fell and poisonous. Long Beren lay, and his spirit wandered upon the dark borders of death, knowing ever an anguish that pursued him from dream to dream. Then suddenly, when her hope was almost spent, he woke again, and looked up, seeing leaves against the sky; and he heard beneath the leaves singing soft and slow beside him LúthienTinúviel. And it was spring again.

Thereafter Beren was named Erchamion, which is the One-handed; and suffering was graven in his face. But at last he was drawn back to life by the love of Lúthien, and he rose, and together they walked in the woods once more.

—The Quenta Silmarillion, Beren and Lúthien (2017) - J.R.R. Tolkien

For the spirit of Beren at her bidding tarried in the halls of Mandos, unwilling to leave the world, until Lúthien came to say her last farewell upon the dim shores of the Outer Sea, whence Men that die set out never to return. But the spirit of Lúthien fell down into darkness, and at the last it fled, and her body lay like a flower that is suddenly cut off and lies for a while unwithered on the grass.

Then a winter, as it were the hoar age of mortal Men, fell upon Thingol. But Lúthien came to the halls of Mandos, where are the appointed places of the Eldalië, beyond the mansions of the West upon the confines of the world. There those that wait sit in the shadow of their thought. But her beauty was more than their beauty, and her sorrow deeper than their sorrows; and she knelt before Mandos and sang to him.

The song of Lúthien before Mandos was the song most fair that ever in words was woven, and the song most sorrowful that ever the world shall hear. Unchanged, imperishable, it is sung still in Valinor beyond the hearing of the world, and listening the Valar are grieved. For Lúthien wove two themes of words, of the sorrow of the Eldar and the grief of Men, of the Two Kindreds that were made by Ilúvatar to dwell in Arda, the Kingdom of Earth amid the innumerable stars. And as she knelt before him her tears fell upon his feet like rain upon the stones; and Mandos was moved to pity, who never before was so moved, nor has been since. Therefore he summoned Beren, and even as Lúthien had spoken in the hour of his death they met again beyond the Western Sea. But Mandos had no power to withhold the spirits of Men that were dead within the confines of the world after their time of waiting; nor could he change the fates of the Children of Ilúvatar. He went therefore to Manwë, Lord of the Valar, who governed the world under the hand of Ilúvatar; and Manwë sought counsel in his inmost thought, where the will of Ilúvatar was revealed. These were the choices that he gave to Lúthien. Because of her labours and her sorrow, she could be released from Mandos, and go to Valimar, there to dwell until the world's end among the Valar, forgetting all griefs that her life had known. Thither Beren could not come. For it was not permitted to the Valar to withhold Death from him, which is the gift of Ilúvatar to Men. But the other choice was this: that she might return to Middle-earth, and take with her Beren, there to dwell again, but without certitude of life or joy. Then she would become mortal, and subject to a second death, even as he; and ere long she would leave the world for ever, and her beauty become only a memory in song. This doom she chose, forsaking the Blessed Realm, and putting aside all claim to kinship with those that dwell there; that thus whatever grief might lie in wait, the fates of Beren and Lúthien might be joined, and their paths lead together beyond the confines of the world. So it was that alone of the Eldalië she has died indeed, and left the world long ago. Yet in her choice the Two Kindreds have been joined; and she is the forerunner of many in whom the Eldar see yet, though all the world is changed, the likeness of Lúthien the beloved, whom they have lost.

—The Lost Cantos, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

It is said that Beren and Lúthien returned to the northern lands of Middle-earth, and dwelt together for a time as living man and woman; and they took up again their mortal form in Doriath. Those that saw them were both glad and fearful; and Lúthien went to Menegroth and healed the winter of Thingol with the touch of her hand. But Melian looked in her eyes and read the doom that was written there, and turned away; for she knew that a parting beyond the end of the world had come between them, and no grief of loss has been heavier than the grief of Melian the Maia in that hour. Then Beren and Lúthien went forth alone, fearing neither thirst nor hunger; and they passed beyond the River Gelion into Ossiriand, and dwelt there in Tol Galen the green isle, in the midst of Adurant, until all tidings of them ceased. The Eldar afterwards called that country Dor Firn-i-Guinar, the Land of the Dead that Live; and there was born Dior Aranel the beautiful, who was after known as Dior Eluchíl, which is Thingol's Heir. No mortal man spoke ever again with Beren son of Barahir; and none saw Beren or Lúthien leave the world, or marked where at last their bodies lay.

—Epilogue, The Lay of Leithian - J.R.R. Tolkien

Jon and Sansa have Hades and Persephone imagery around them as well.

Jon as Hades:

Despite being born in Dorne, Jon is a son of Winterfell.

In the Prologue of A Game of Thrones we can read that Waymar Royce, Jon's stand in, died at the hands of the Others, in an eriily similar way that Jon would die four books later at the hands of his brothers of the Night's Watch (foreshadowing of Jon's death Nº 1).

Jon played to be a Ghost at the Crypts of Winterfell (foreshadowing of Jon's death Nº 2).

Jon named his mute albino direwolf Ghost (foreshadowing of Jon's death Nº 3).

And in A Dance with Dragons, Jon actually died.

One of Jon's killers was Bowen Marsh dubbed the Old Pomegranate.

We can read the words "a dream of spring" in one of Jon's chapters (A Storm of Swords - Jon V).

Sansa as Persephone:

Persephone and Sansa are renowned beauties.

Sansa was born during winter, she is the Winterfell's daughter.

Sansa is heavily linked with the dawn and the sun (Battle for the Dawn to defeat the Long Night/Long Winter).

An important theme in Sansa's arc is rebuilding, which is connected with rebuild a life after the Long Night/Long Winter. A dream of spring.

GRRM has linked Sansa to the warmer seasons (spring and summer) through her favorite dessert, lemon cakes.

Sansa is deeply associated with flowers, thus with spring.

Sansa rejected the pomegranate from Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish.

Jon's death is foreshadowed (hidden daggers) in one of Sansa's chapters (A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI).

Sansa sensed Jon's death: "A ghost wolf, big as mountains." (A Feast for Crows - Alayne II).

Lady, part of Sansa, already died and is buried at Winterfell.