#then turning an apology into sun having to comfort moon and pull him out of his self pity

[moonlit-dreamers]

say youve never had your sibling chase you with a knife without saying youve never had your sibling chase you with a knife

Random video: New Moon/Nexus was always a bad brother and here's why! *mostly have gameplay clips where Reed and Davis are bullying each other and having fun*

So, are you calling Reed toxic or you've never really had a sibling fight? Lol. It's literally two guys having fun playing games and you're digging for any clip for your hate video and ruining the fun 😂

[lovelynicho]

"So let's go see the stars"

Pairing: boyfriend!Taesan x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, little suggestive at the end

Warnings: making out in public; not proofread (lmk if I made mistakes)

Note: this has been in my mind since forever, I decided to finally write it down; it's not a request again, so sorry for that TT; english is not my first language I apologize for any mistakes

Masterlist

It was really late. You didn't know the exact time but it was definitely late. The sky is in its darkest phase, the only things that are lighting it are the little stars everywhere where you can look and the beautiful moon that has just started waning. You were on the hood of the car, laying back, Taesan on your left, laying centimetres from you, a blanket creating a soft place for both of your heads. Your pinky is tangled in his softly as both of you were just staring at the sky, momentarily taking glances at each other.

You didn't even know what you were still doing here. You went out for a car ride to watch the sunset at a good spot where the scenery is so beautiful you couldn't imagine any better. But after the sun went down the two of you decided to lay down and stargaze just for a few minutes. But those minutes turned into more and more until hours passed and you were still there. Laying on the hood of the car, too afraid to move your legs as to not cause any damage to the vehicle but still feeling comfortable. Comfortable.... because when you're together, you're always comfortable.

But even the beautiful stars and the silent thinking can get boring after some time so you decided to look at something that was even prettier than the night sky: your boyfriend. The way his black hair, that was so similar to the color of the sky, created a contrast with his pale skin was so captivating. His eyes looking straight to the sky only stopping the gazing when he had to close his eyelids for a short moment for a blink. The shape of his nose was the most outstanding as you were staring at his side profile, but you still settled on his slightly parted lips that had this beautiful pink tone and you were sure it would taste amazing if you kissed him.

"Enjoying the view?" A deep voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You noticed that smirk on his lips that clearly meant, he noticed your staring and definitely wanted to tease you about it.

"I couldn't help, you looked too pretty under the sky" your answer seemed to satisfy him because when you finished the sentence his smirk grew into a grin that was clearly a sign of happiness.

You looked into his eyes. So full of love. You don't think anyone has ever looked at you the way he looks at you. Those dark eyes were shining, they were even more mesmerising than the stars above you. And you don't think you have ever looked at anyone else the way you look at him, when you can feel your heartbeat in your chest and millions of butterflies in your stomach.

You loved these moments. When words weren't needed. When it was just the two of you sharing silent love. You noticed his glances at your lips right before he started to lean closer to you. Soon he closed the space between the two of you. His lips felt amazing on yours, tasting as good as you imagined before. Every single kiss with Taesan was special somehow. Maybe it was the way he gently caressed your face or waist, or maybe it was just a feeling only he could make you feel. But it was special.

Soon he broke the kiss sitting up right before he stood up to get in front of you. You tought that was the end of the night out here so you got ready to leave the hood of the car yourself, but he stopped you when you were still sitting on it.

"Stay there" he whispered so quietly you were sure that if you were just a few centimetres further from him you wouldn't even be able to hear his words. But you did what he said, you just kept sitting on the car, curious about what his plans were.

Those plans weren't so hidden for long, only for a few seconds before he put his soft lips against yours again. Moving them slowly and gently at first, but soon they got stronger. He bit softly in your lower lip and as a result you opened your mouth allowing his tounge in your mouth. The kiss that started so slow and soft turned into a passionate make out session very soon. You opened your legs so he could stand between them to get even closer to you. His hands on your waist drawing circles on the skin under your shirt while your hands were grabbing his hair making him growl into the kiss.

You don't know how long that make out session lasted. It was long. But how could you stop when he tastes so good, when he knows exactly what to do with his hands and lips and what words to whisper against your lips? "Shall we go home?" He asked. You can't just keep making out in public afterall. So you gave him a nod, excited to continue what you started the moment you step into the apartment.

[2ch3rr13s]

From something to nothing

Weeks had passed since he last seen you, and he just can't take it anymore. You're his love, his darling, his; he wants you back already.

well i can't be predicable and just say everyone gets a bad/good ending, so it's going to be mixed

@swivy123 did part 2 and tagged u like u asked <3

pt. 1

cw/tw- angst (ofc), hurt/comfort, hurt no comfort, reader dies in one of them (lmao srry babes), gn! reader

Alhaitham

To love was simply a confusing emotion to Alhaitham. He never felt the need to be in a relationship or to see the reason to ever form one. But you, came into his life and made his see what it was like to loved and cared for. He didn't have the luxury of such after his grandmother passed away, and he never knew the feeling of such an emotion as it slipped through his fingers.

And the day he blew up on you, you wouldn't come around until he, himself, went out of his way to apologize. You didn't like confrontation, you didn't like be upfront with your emotions, and he knew you, maybe even better than you did.

So why? Why was it the first time he's seen you in weeks, his heart his heavy with guilt as you were wrapped in the arms of his blond roommate?

The two of you were in Lambad's Tavern, he thought he was just here to pick up his roommate again. But instead you were here also and you looked as bad as Kaveh, well in the sense of you two being drunk.

Your eyes were a bit puffy, and you had small tears rolling down your cheeks as Kaveh had you in his arms.

And when he made his way over to you, you looked up and began to cry even more. His lips in a frown as he pulled you up and into his arms.

Your hands formed fists as they began to pound against his chest, but his arms still held you as you threw your little tantrum. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other soothingly running through your hair.

Kaveh watched with a little smile of relief on his face, as he swirled his glass of wine before taking a sip. Well, at least the two of you looked as if you'd be okay.

At least Kaveh didn't have to hear you talk about how much you missed Alhaitham anymore or see how brooding his roommate could actually be.

Diluc

Once again, he had come home from being the Darknight Hero again, and he just couldn't take it anymore not seeing his lovely partner in bed waiting for him.

Swallowing up his pride, the next day he entered through the tall gates of Mondstadt and made his way over to Cat's Tail ignoring how Diona was by the door and looked as if she wanted to scratch his eyes out.

Entering the establishment, he straightened his clothes as he looked to see a surprised Margret behind the counter with Prince. "Master Diluc, what brings you here? TCG I'm assuming?"

Yelling could be heard as a little crowd was forming around a table and his eyes glanced over, and for some reason he thought he seen some hair that looked familiar.

Cheering was heard all around as he heard a loud 'yes!' being shouted by what he could assume was the winner as everyone parted leaving him speechless.

"Them... I'm here for them," he mumbled as he felt his legs move on his own making long strides over towards you. You were surprised to hear the breathlessness call of your name as you turned and was quickly pulled into his embrace as a kiss was placed on your lips.

Surprised you pulled away as his gloved hands cupped your cheeks, "I'm sorry [Name], i love you so much." His crimson eyes stared down into your that were skeptical of him

The whispers around you made you turn to the crowd that were were watching wide eyed and murmuring. "God damn it Diluc..."

Kaeya

You and Kaeya were different; like night and day, the sun and the moon, snow and shine. You were bubbly, loving, and were too nice for your own good; he was flirty, sly, and had was around everything.

After you little 'fight' you left your shared home, and returned the next morning after going to Lisa's home and crying to her about what had Kaeya said and did.

Opening the door with your key, you entered your home to see Kaeya asleep on the couch, where he was actually asleep or just faking it you didn't want to stick around to find out.

As quietly as you could, you began to pick up your papers from the floor, Kaeya's words from last night ringing in your ear as you began to fight the tears brimming your eyes.

Little sniffles and hiccups escaped your mouth as you began to gran your papers, looking over at some of the poetry you wrote dedicated to your loving... well, used to be loving boyfriend.

Making a stack of all the papers that were dedicated to the calvary captain you placed them on the table you worked on and picked up the rest that weren't dedicated to him.

"[Name]...?" His head peaked from over the couch as he stood up and walked over to you, only for you to take a few steps back. "What's worng? Why are all your papers on the floor?"

Does he seriously not know? You inhaled sharply, as you went to your shared bedroom, him following behind. "Kaeya... I can't keep doing this. You keep getting drunk and you never remember anything. You seem to lash out on me and I just can't take it anymore!"

His bit his lip as he rubbed the back of his neck and shift his wieght to his other leg, "Come on [Name], I'm sure-" You turned around, and his eye widen at the tears pouring from your eyes.

"No! I don't- I can't," letting out a groan of frustration you wiped your eyes and pushed passed him. "I'll come get my things some other time. Bye Kaeya."

Once again you left him in a cold empty house, and this time, you weren't going to come back to him, in his arms ever again.

Albedo

Time is such a fleeting thing really, and no one had enough of it. Well, mortals never had enough time, ever.

It started with weeks going by since you last seen Albedo, you felt a bit guilty for how you kicked him out from your home but what he said deeply hurt you. So, with a determined mind and a aching heart you gathered up some supply and got ready for a hike up Dragonspine.

The cold nipped at your nose and cheeks as your boots crunched the snow beneath you with every step you took. No one liked coming to Dragonspine be it commissions, food, or resources. The place was filled with monsters and the Fatui, so it was reasonable.

Hiking up to where Albedo's lab was, it was damn tiering. Pulling your jacket closer to you, there was a loud boom from behind you, which made you turn your head unaware of what was in front of you.

Apparently a Frostarm Lawachurl woke up from it slumber and it locked onto you, before it charges towards you, the loudness made you turn as you were then thrown off the side of the mountain. What a terrible day to forget your wind glider.

And then days passed since you were last heard of, Albedo believed that you were still locked up in your home ignoring him anytime he went by your home.

It wasn't until Aether and Paimon ran up to him a week later, "ALBEDO!" Paimon screamed as the two ran towards him when he was as the alchemy crafting table with Timaeus.

"Traveler, Paimon what-" Paimon was sobbing as she was holding onto Aether as he was trying catch his breath. He held a necklace to the alchemist, who was confused until he looked at the pendent.

Yours, it's yours. His heart dropped as he clutched it into his hand, "[Name]? A-Are they safe?" He looked over to Paimon who was sobbing as she was behind coddles by Aether. "Where are they...?"

"We were in Dragonspine, and there was an avalanche, I fell but I had my wind glider. We looked down to see that there something down by your lab... They were buried underneath the snow... I'm sorry Albedo."

Albedo closed his eyes as he nodded his head as he took your necklace holding it close to his chest. "Thank you... I-I have to go now..."

He never got to apologize to you, now how will he live knowing that his last words to you were hurtful?

Xiao

The conqueror of demons, the last remaining yaksha, Atalus, and Xiao; he was one by many names, many titles. He didn't necessarily dislike humans, mortals, he just didn't want to get attached only for their life to end abruptly.

His karma debt already affects the monsters around him, and he doesn't need it to affect someone he cares deeply for. So, when push comes to shove, in order to protect the people of Liyue, he is willing to strain his own relationship in order to protect the mortals, even if his love is also a mortal.

I would rather sacrifice you in order to keep the people of Liyue safe, how could anyone you love ever say that to you face? He didn't even look at you when he said those words either, that's what probably made it hurt even more.

Days, weeks, months, and Xiao hasn't heard from you, nor has he seen yo, he would be lying if he said he wasn't worried for you. At night he could barely hear the small whispers of his name from you and he would be by your side in a second.

But when he arrives, you're asleep with your face contorted into one of pain as you toss and turn in bed. With a heavy heart, he sits on the edge of the bed, and leans down pressing a kiss agaisnt your forehead.

This is the last time, I will let you go so you can be with another mortal who pays attention to you. I love you [Name], and before you wake up from your nightmare, he's gone in a wisp of teal and black.

if anyone wants to be tagged in up coming works of mine just ask <3

[nc-vb]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧, & 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡

sowwy. i thought of this at 3am and now it’s 6am and the idea of this just makes me sad. so y’all need to be sad with me, ok?

summary -> the sun sets, the moon takes its rightful place amongst its people, and the truth comes out.

pairing → dan heng x gn!reader

warnings → sfw, hurt, angst & comfort triple threat.

wc → 1.3k

Ethereal. There'd been no other way to describe it; no other word comes close to begin to explain the sight before you. Clad in a form unrecognizable to you but one as familiar to him as if it were the back of his own hand, Dan Heng parted the sea of the Scalegorge Waterscape like a god. And yet, of course, it was him.

For all your time aboard the Astral Express, you knew each of its passengers harboured a secret or a shame or two. You never pressed or pried or pondered, not even once. Especially to Dan Heng. An unopened book, you often times had to guess what he'd been feeling within a moment. This, too, you were fine with, because whenever he did decide to open up to you, even just a little, you'd been elated. Whatever amount of trust he had in you, even if only a smidgen, that'd been enough for you.

But this was big. A huge secret. Dan Heng is beside you. And yet, not.

At this point in your Trailblazing, you'd only ever encountered the Vidyadhara species here, on the Xianzhou Luofu. Not only are they a long-life species, but they're also descendants of the Aeon of Permanence. Equipped with tails and horns, ones that you couldn't help but stare at in awe (poor Lady Baiju had been victimized by your intense staring until she'd offered to let you touch them, only to learn of their soft-scaled nature; the horns? Just as soft).

But seeing them on Dan Heng is... a different story. Somehow, you're finding it difficult to meet his eyes, but you feel him staring at you, now, so very vehemently so, even while locked in conversation with Jing Yuan and Lady Fu.

Why are you avoiding him? You feel so strange, the longer this behaviour persists. After learning of his story's details, your heart screams at you to comfort him, to pull him aside and give all of your promises to him during his unease. But instead, you decide to walk away from their strategy session to face Phantylia — it's simple enough, just take her down, right? You don't need to hear all the details — and instead, face out at the open waterscape just steps away from you, perched on a shattered pillar.

And eventually, when Dan Heng confirms his presence is no longer required before the two, he makes his way over to where you sit, now absentmindedly fiddling with the grip of your weapon. You bristle upon hearing him approach, and he wonders if you would've reacted the same if one of the others had approached you; if it were Caelus or March or Mister Yang, would you have shot such a concerned look over your shoulder?

Your name feels a little acidic, sitting on his tongue, so he forces it out to relieve him. You swallow, and turn away once more, only to shuffle to the left of the broken pillar to allow him room to join you. And he does, albeit in caution, because for some reason, you have your guard up against him now.

He raises a hesitant hand that curls around your waist, his other following to hold onto your right arm’s sleeve, and in the corner of your eye, Dan Heng spots you biting down on your lower lip and glancing down at him. The expression you find on his face tells of two things— his eventual apology for his unintended deceit, and, that he has so many things to say, but knows not where to begin.

“Dan Heng,” you call, your voice soft— he easily recognizes it as the one you choose to use when you find yourself having to lecture March 7th, or when you’d chastised Caelus for digging through the trash for a chance at finding treasure. You never shout, but your firm, monotone voice is enough to make even a guiltless criminal flinch. Now, you’ll use it on him, the man you once called your “first and only love”. Now, you’ll call him a pretender, a liar, a fraud, a— “are you okay?”

For the briefest of moments, his mind stalls, his heart quick to follow. It’s hard to breathe all of a sudden, he finds. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and despite your very specific reservations, you throw your arms around him, hands running smooth across his back and between his shoulder blades.

Dan Heng doesn’t want to cry. If anything, they’d be tears of frustration — toward his circumstances, toward his past life’s relationships, toward you, toward himself — and if he started crying, he just might not stop. So he speaks, instead, finally breathing, and hoping the distraction helps.

“… are you mad at me?”

It barely does.

“At you? Never.” You, too, exhale a long breath, one you must’ve been holding for a while, and part from him. “At myself, for thinking the unfair thoughts that I am? For behaving the way I’d just behaved before? Extremely. I’m angry. I’m embarrassed. I’m… I’m sad.”

Dan Heng’s grip on you tightens from behind, and he rests his head on your shoulder.

“Why are you sad?”

You can’t bite back the chuckle that’d settled in the back of your throat. It’s not one of humour, either.

“Because I’m just a human,” you answer, tone light, but still embittered. “I’m just a human… I’ll grow older and older until I die, and you’ll stay the same as you are for decades, for centuries. We won’t grow old together. But you knew that. Time passes so differently for the two of us. And eventually, you’ll have to leave me; you’ll have to move on and leave this… this speck of ash I’ll become behind.”

Dan Heng’s lips part in horror. “N-No, I— no, please, don’t… don’t say any of that. I… I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I was… I never wanted to hurt you by omitting the truth, but it was too hard for me to say anything… yet.” This time, saying your name leaves his tongue dry, and it’s left heavy in his mouth. “I’d planned to tell you eventually. Soon.” In his lap, he twists his fingers around, the anxiety welled up inside him pulling out his old habits. “It… isn’t easy for me to speak about my past or my lineage, and I’d been trying to come with a way to talk to you about it.

“And… I’ve felt the same way for as long as we’ve been together, you know.” You turn to him, hearing his words pass through clenched teeth. “That one day, you’ll… you’ll just be gone. It… isn’t fair.”

“Dan Heng…”

“I thought… you were mad at me,” he adds lowly, “with the way you were ignoring me before.”

“… for a second, I was,” you murmur back, instantly feeling guilty. “But when I joined all of you, I made a promise to myself to not ask questions, and to not be offended if any of you had any secrets you wanted to keep to yourselves. I-I think that, because you and I are together, I started to want to know more about your past… not thinking it might’ve been so painful that you wanted to leave it be. I’m sorry.” Your head instinctively bows a little. “It was selfish of me to act like that. I’m sorry.”

Dan Heng wastes no time in grabbing you from around your shoulders and pulling you into him again. You huff, blinking quickly to send away the tears lining up along your eyelids.

“Don’t apologize. I was… inconsiderate. I promise— I’ll be with you for as long as you wish for me to.”

You raise your hand to rest it atop one of his, and squeeze.

“… I wish it could be forever.”

© nc-vb 2023 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

@trailblazernet :)

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Devotion

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.2K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: agression, insults, general rudeness, crying, soft boy Astarion

--------------------------

Tensions were high in camp generally, being beaten down on the daily fighting such powerful beings was enough to irritate everyone. For the most part you were just trying to avoid everyone, give them peace. You sought out your lover, Astarion, for comfort yet were greeted with annoyance and dismissal. It hurt your feelings and you were open with him about that. That is where the fight started but gods did it evolve. Every little annoyance with each other came spewing out until it turned into this giant ugly monster that enveloped you both. 

“Just leave me alone!” Astarion yelled at you but stayed in his spot.

“Excuse me? You’re in my tent.” you said, crossing your arms. 

“I have had enough of your attitude.” Astarion said in a low voice. 

“Likewise my dear.” you shot back at him. 

He stalked towards you, his eyes were sharp and you could see the anger in his face. “What was that?” he growled.

“I said I’ve had enough of you. You want to be alone? Fine. Be alone but go do it somewhere else.” you shoved past him.

He gripped your arm tightly pulling you harshly back to where you were standing before. You winced, his grip hurting you. You tried to yank your arm away but all that did was make him grip you harder. 

He walked you backwards until your back hit the pole holding your whole tent up. You winced at that as well, the wood scraping against you roughly.

“I would speak more softly to me.” Astarion gritted.

���You’re hurting me.” you said while trying to pull his hand off your arm. 

He squeezed your arm tighter, you let out a yelp. This cleared his mind right up; he let go of you but you remained where you were. He reached up to inspect your arm. You flinched away, shielding your face. 

Astarion took a step back from you, his face contorted with a look of utter sorrow. “I wouldn’t hurt you…” he murmured.

“You did hurt me.” you said as you shrugged your cloak off, looking down at your arm. A red mark already forming into a hand shaped bruise laid where he grasped you.

His eyes widened at the mark, he looked down at his hands. His eyes met yours and as he moved towards you he saw your face flash with fear as you moved away from him. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. 

“Get out.” you said, tears brimming in your eyes.

“Darling I…”

“Get out! Touch me again and I’ll cut your fucking hand off.” your tears fell but they weren’t from sadness or fear, they were from rage. 

He flinched at your harshness, having never seen you like this before. He wanted to stay, to make it right somehow. But he couldn’t and that's what hurt the most. He left. His mind went elsewhere as he sank down into his own bed. It felt cold. He hadn’t been without you in months, everything felt dark and lonesome. 

----------------------------

He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t think. He had never had to apologize for hurting somebody, if anything he was rewarded in the past for it. But he never wanted to hurt you, and now that he had, all he felt was confused. He truly didn’t mean to. Having just fed, he didn’t realize his strength. He consistently forgot how strong he was now that he was feeding on thinking creatures. He cursed himself, he wanted to cut out his heart. He decided he would do what you asked, he would get out.

He sat on the hillside watching the sun go down and the moon rise. He had his bag packed, just a few things, including a ring you had given him less than a week ago. A ring of devotion. He held it between his fingers, a single tear slipped down his cheek. Gods how he wished this all turned out differently. How he wishes he could have been better for you. Perhaps Cazador was right, he was nothing, and he would always be nothing. 

------------------------------

You were still angry, he hadn’t left his tent in days and the first thing he did was go sit on a hill? You glared at him as you watched from the mouth of your tent. You looked down at your arm, the bruise was fading, just yellow and splotchy now. You knew he didn’t mean to hurt you, he would never. But that didn’t change the fact that he did. You didn’t fear him, you just wanted an apology and for this stupid fight to be over. You went to bed, tossing and turning all night, unable to slip away. 

You rolled over to the sound of footsteps. Keeping your eyes closed but just barely cracked, pretending to sleep, you saw Astarion looking at you from the front of your tent. His face was so sad, so forlorn. He watched you for a moment longer before leaving. You listened to his steps, but they didn’t lead back to his tent. They got further and further until you couldn’t hear him anymore. Something in your gut told you to follow him, so you did. You saw his tracks lead out of camp.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” you said as you caught up to him about a mile from camp. 

He looked shocked to see you when he turned around. “To wash.” he lied quickly.

You raised your eyebrow as you walked up to him, “Really? A mile away from camp? With a backpack? If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were leaving for good.” you put your hands on your hips, awaiting his answer.

“I… am.” he said, his shoulders slumping and his eyes looking downwards. 

“Oh? And why is that?” you asked.

“I am a danger. I don’t want to hurt you again.” he said, tugging his backpack closer to him.

“This will hurt me more than you could ever imagine.” you said, holding his cheek. You weren’t angry anymore, irritated was a better way to describe it. 

His shaking hand rested over the top of yours, he sighed, “I don’t know how to fix what I’ve done.”

“An apology would be a good start.” you mumbled with a small smile.

“I am sorry, truly. I forget myself, my strength. My temper is so… easily rattled. I just… I’m so sorry Y/N.” he said with a shaky voice. 

You kissed him softly, “I accept your apology. Now I need you to make me a promise.”

“Anything.” he said quickly.

“Promise me we'll talk things through. That we’ll be rational, patient. And that you won't just pick up and leave after every small fight.” you pleaded with him. 

“Yes! Yes, of course… Is your arm alright?” he asked, his eyes glancing towards it. 

“Good,” you leaned up to kiss him again. “It’s fine, I can hardly even see it now.” you said as you showed him your arm.

“Do you still trust me…? Love me?” he asked, he wanted to hold you close so bad but he restrained himself. 

“Of course. I’m not afraid of you Star, I was just angry. Of course I love you and trust you.” you pulled him to you in a crushing hug. 

He cautiously wrapped his arms around you, he looked down to the ring on his finger. Devotion, he thought. He was devoted to you above all else.

----------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello!!! This was based off a request and I loved writing this. As a reminder to all - REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!! I have another fic idea so be on the look out for that in the next few days. Thanks for everything! XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX!!!!!!

[ohsunnyboy]

steal your night (part 1) | sung hanbin ˚₊‧⁺˖

you never knew you had a boyfriend until sung hanbin eats your tiramisu and steals your heart under the stars of monaco

SERIES: a night in monaco — one, two

TAGS: fake dating, strangers to lovers, business man!hanbin, gn!reader, flirty hanbin and you ehe, meet cute <3, summer vibes

A/N: sorry for the disappearance lmao take my hanbin pining as an apology, and as always, purely self indulgent

WORDS: ~1300

Trouble comes when dessert is served.

Everything considered, it’s horrible timing. Sun setting just so over the Mediterranean, hearty chatter firing all around in all sorts of languages and your wine being warm company on a supposedly lonely night. It makes a perfect set-up as your spoon hovers mid-air as you prepare to dig into some well-deserved tiramisu.

Until someone slides into the very empty seat across from you, slips a crisp black business card across the table to you – it reads 'Sung Hanbin' – and uttering the most insane thing yet: "Love, I'm so sorry for being late!"

What.

You barely get to say anything before he's swooping in for la bise. As you lean in, his expensive cologne lingers like smoke in the air. It's a narrow dodge of your lips, but he swerves and lands a quick kiss to your right cheek and then dares to go for a second on your left. Consider yourself stunned because all you do is watch him pull away and a grin at you with a gorgeous smile.

You want to sit and gape for a second, let yourself breathe, and now with a longer look, let him breathe.

This, Hanbin, has flushed cheeks and is twitchy with how he holds your hand – when did that happen?! – across the table. There's a light sheen of sweat on his skin and not due to the heat, more like he's either embarrassed or nervous about this. He breathes in short, sharp gasps as if he's been running and mouths something to you.

Please play along. His hand still holds yours, and he squeezes just so.

Hanbin turned his head to the right slightly. Stood at a table near the entrance was a woman with a flowy silver dress on and hair pulled into quite a severe bun. Her pointed heels tapping on the spot and her jittery eyes glance over at you two, but quickly look somewhere else when she catches your curious gaze.

“She’s been trying to get me to buy her a meal all day,” he sighs. “Thing is, I even saw her scoping me out yesterday at a bar last night. I was naïve enough to buy her a drink to start some conversation, but she’s taken it as personal permission to stalk me. She clearly hasn’t gotten the memo.” And he squeezes your hand again, this time to comfort himself.

“What about me? What if I turn out to be some crazy that’s out to steal your Amex and claim my fifth husband?”

“You? No way, you have a top shelf wine and a second plate of tiramisu in front of you already. You're doing perfectly fine without my money," Hanbin lists before his gaze turns considering. "Unless... you weren't lying about the husbands.”

You laugh into your wine and eye Hanbin over the rim. "You wouldn’t look too bad in a wedding tux, pretty boy, who knows?”

The long column of Hanbin’s neck is exposed thanks to the open collar of his shirt. Revealing the delicate sun, moon and star on his collar that only keeps you stuck in wonder for longer.

You can only imagine how smooth the skin feels – under your hands and lips – but maybe that’s the wine talking when he sits there fine and handsome against the candlelight. The sunset paints saturated hues against his skin, you can barely see the blush that peeks above his collar thanks to it.

If you friends were here, you know what they’d say about him: trouble, hot and wealthy trouble.

“Eyes up here, love.” Your eyes leap back up to Hanbin’s to only see amusement in them. Getting caught flushes your face with heat but his eyes are dark enough to forget yourself in.

You try to push on, clearing your throat and pulling yourself together. “So, the deal is we act like lovers the rest of the night?” The weight of the word lovers is a syrupy one, overtly sweet and something far from familiar for you but Hanbin only smiles at it.

“Of course, love. Shouldn’t be too hard with someone as sweet as you,” he grins however his eyes still linger on that woman in silver, clearly on edge.

You drum your fingers on the table, the rush of meeting each other melting quickly in the air. Awkward tension is bound to seep in soon and you'll be damned if it does! you're not losing this chance no matter how much trouble this man could be.

A stroke of brilliance brings you to push forward your untouched plate of tiramisu over to him, careful with the spoon balancing precariously on the plate. “What?” you smile at his confused face. “I wasn’t eating it anyway and you need a distraction.” But he just raises his brows like he doesn't believe it.

At his reluctance, you sigh and begin to flag down a waitress.

“Hey! Hey, don’t kick me out please—I’ll eat it!… even pay for it!—” Hanbin flusters even further as you push a finger against his soft lips to shut him up as the waitress arrives.

It’s a beat of silence.

“Two more tiramisus, please.” Hanbin’s laugh of disbelief trails the waitress as she leaves.

What you do find out is that it’s stupidly easy to talk to Hanbin. You tell him why you’re even here in Monaco: about your crazy best friends marrying after years of adventures, about being the responsible one in a group of misfits, about growing up and never quite finding the one unlike how they did. Loneliness is a familiar tale on your tongue, the wine tinging everything you say with bitter honesty you’ve never been able to let out with anyone else.

With Hanbin, you learn about his job as a business consultant: his annoying – but endearing! – juniors Yujin and Gyuvin, how him and Zhang Hao – his other colleague – are out here for strictly business. Until of course, he met you.

“What are your doing out here so alone, anyway?” he probed. He’s so much closer now, having moved his chair to be next to you instead of opposite you. “You’re too pretty to be single but I really hope you are.”

You shrug off the flirting for once and let yourself disappear back into the chair. “Everyone else I know are in relationships so they’re all away on dates across the city. I figured stealing myself away on a self-date would be better than sitting lonely in a hotel room all night.” 

He hums, a low and melodic thing. You can feel the heat of him next to you, the weight of his presence and the cut of his cologne all over again. Though nothing prepares you when Hanbin takes your hand in his.

He raises it, gentle and kind, slow and despairing, and presses his lips to your ring finger.

"Well then, may I steal your night?" he asks like a dare. A whisper barely heard but shared between you two.

Eyes far too low and gaze far too heavy for a look between strangers. The implications are clearer than the night sky above. Hanbin's lips linger with a smirk, and you can feel everything in you screaming to look away before you melt into the floor but all you can do is stare.

Trouble. Is what your mind is screaming. It's what you really want after all this pining in silence. Someone to crash into your life and take you with them.

"You don't even know my name."

It comes out like an accusation. Trouble, trouble, trouble. It brings you here and leaves you dizzy, craving for more.

"Why would I need it, love. You'll be saying mine all night.”

The woman is long gone into the night so there's no need for this play-pretend. But trouble looks you in the eyes and you kiss him with a heart that yearns for more.

ahjbsdkh thanks so much for reading <33 i had a lot of fun writing this so a like and reblog would be nice if you enjoyed :] ⭒ masterlist

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

6 - King and Queen in the North

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 10.4k

Warnings: Angst/hurt comfort, slow burn, discussions of warfare, strained parent-child issues, mild mentions of blood and violence, smut, oral (m receiving), slight dom/sub dynamics, consensual degredating langauge, symptoms of post coital sub drop, secret relationship, unexplained nightmares

Notes: Robbs campaign in the Westlands begins now. Disclaimer, I am not a war expert so if you are, just don't read into it too closely. Series Masterlist Here.

Men in the camp all spoke of different stories to explain it, some fantastical, some of ominous warning and many in their spare moments keeping their eyes peeled to the sky following the slow moving streak of red. The tip of it burned brighter almost as an orange or yellow that deepened in colour as it stretched into a striking red tail. It appeared in the bright sun of the daylight it seemed many days ago and it had barley moved along the skyline as it peeked into the night. The moon was barley visible in comparison, the red comet burned so bright that it demanded all of the skies attention. 

Now in the dark of the night, it was much more the centre of talk and yet as you walked through the camp you paid it no mind. Olyvar Frey to his credit, was trying very hard to be a dutiful squire to the King in the North and he seemed to show you a similar level of respect. Yet as you heard his squeaky voice shouting, you felt a tinge of annoyance in your chest. You would like just one singular night that would allow you any sleep. “Your grace,” 

Turning to see him, he paused in front of you, leaning his hands onto his thighs as he huffed out, “Your grace, my apologies, I,” taking another breathe he hoisted himself up and straight as he held out a raven scroll. “A raven came in urgently for the King.” 

Grabbing it, you glanced at the unbroken wax seal to see that of a Stag. Heart picking up a small bit, you nodded a thanks to the squire and he took a moment before realizing you were waiting for him to take his leave. 

There was much getting used to now, this new title. The Northmen respected you as their Queen as much as they did when choosing Robb Stark as their King. You had stood beside him, fought beside them as he did, and knew the North as well as any foreigner could. You had knelt and pledged in front of his men, that you vowed more then that of a wife’s love to him but your sword and loyalty. Even when it would mean standing opposite of your own father. 

You could only wonder just how he had taken it, learning of your allegiance, that these people called you Queen in the North. Now with a letter in your hands to the King you knew him well enough that Stannis Baratheon was not one to broker peace after being insulted so. Coming to your own tent, you could see that Robb had barley gotten inside before preoccupying himself with the papers in front of him. 

So much so, you seemed to have not even been noticed. “Your grace.” Robb having propped part of his head up by a closed fist with his elbow perched on a table, he raised up quietly with narrowed eyes until they flattened out to an amused smirk. “I know a King such as yourself is ever so busy, but pray tell could he spare a few moments for a girl such as myself?” 

Standing up, the smirk grew to a more wolfish grin as he stepped towards you. Slow, purposeful steps that made you feel like the prey before he stood tall over your leaning his face into yours. “For such a pretty one, I have more then a few.” Two fingers pulled your face up to his from under your chin, as he pressed his lips gently to yours. His other hand moving up to find the back of your neck, but finding you pulling back before he had the chance. 

One hand on his chest plate, he glanced down to see what the other was holding. His eyes narrowed more in question, before you turned it in your fingers so he could see the sigil. You found the others eyes, him pulling you in further away from the entrance. He leaned back against the table, using one hand to pull you to stand between his legs so he could keep his touch at your waist. “What’s it say?”

Raising an eyebrow, “It’s for the King in the North.” 

Robb only shook his head in a slight no, running one hand smoothly up and down your waist to hip and back. “And you are my Queen, which means what I know, I want you to know too.” It still took getting used to even from him, “Read it for me.” 

If you took a deep breathe no doubt it would come out shaking, instead you let your lungs burn as you unveiled the writing. Not in your fathers own hand, but it was indeed in his words nor was it addressed to one person. Th contents though, made you raise your eyebrows in surprise. Whatever ideas the realm had of this war before, certainly they knew now. 

“To the High Lords of Westeros, all men know me for the true born son of Steffon Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End, by his lady wife Cassana of House Estermont. I declare upon the honour of my house that my brother Robert, our late King left no true born issues of his body. The boy Joffery, the boy Tommen, and the girl Myrcella being born of incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. By right of birth and blood, I do this day lay claim to the Iron Throne of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Let all true men declare their loyalty. Done in the Light of the Lord,”

For a brief second, your eyes narrowed at the wording in a mix of confusion and then to a distant concern. All which were not missed by Robb as you continued. 

“under the sign and seal of Stannis of House Baratheon, the first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the realm.” Your voice trailing out by the end with a mixture of acceptance and yet frustration in it’s sound. 

Robb pulled one hand back open as you handed it to him to scan over for himself. Your own hands now free, found themselves resting gently along the side and back of his neck. “It seems he’s not willing to make the same mistake.” Glancing up to you with a knowing look, “The whole realm knows now.” 

Robb meant no offence and you knew that. His father and you had made a few too many of them in both of your failing confidence in allies. Ned Stark, having sent one of his men to give a letter detailing the truth in the wake of Robert’s death meant for Stannis and only Stannis. Your own father however, seemed to think that no such subtly was required. “He wants everyone to know if you oppose him, then you’re opposing the one true King.” Your words a bit more pedantic then calm. 

There was no doubt when you chose to stand by his side what this meant for your family. It meant that now two of you were pulling the remains of the Baratheons apart, but before you could look to Robb, your men, and the united front that the Lannister forces how three times could not keep up with and ignore it. Now however? There was no more room to pretend otherwise. 

Robb would be considered a usurper, and you a traitor. At the least the punishment was the same for both crimes, but the once idea of your heads on spikes were whispered to be something new. Something this letter only added validity to such rumours. Robb gently calling your name, getting you to look him in the eye. “There is something else, something I wasn’t sure of until this.” Your fingers tapping at the letter. “He had said in the Light of the Lord,” 

“He did,” Robb watching carefully as you tried putting pieces together. 

Your nails lightly scratching at the ends of curly hair at the back of his neck almost like a nervous tick needing to fidget with something. “I’ve been hearing things from Dragonstone. About my father and mother.” 

It weighed in your chest unsettled and uncomfortable enough that you pulled out of Robb’s touch entirely as the feeling closed in on you. Choosing instead of sit back against the surface next to him as one arm draped across your stomach and the other with your fingers curling up against your lips. “My family has never exactly been considerably dedicated to the Seven, as you likely could tell.” 

A lightness in Robbs eyes glazed over as he looked at you, “Aye, considering there is actually a small sept in Winterfell and you never even considered getting married there.” 

Nodding, you didn’t think of the ceremony a lot actually. Most of it felt like a blur of anxiety that you barley remembered any of it until the crowd had left entirely. “My father and I approached it much the same. That the gods exist, but neither of us particularly liked them very much. He saw it was, we have our duty down here why should we too trap ourselves in obeying all of their demands as well.” 

Robb found himself trying not to laugh, unknowingly much like his father had said to his mother, “It is your gods with all the rules.” The Old Gods had not rules, but ways of life to adhere to that worked in conjunction with the way they saw nature was supposed to work. Likely why most Northerners found little care to move South, when many Southerners found little issue in going place to place. 

The Andals had came through the lands and cut down almost every Weirwood south of White Harbour, and pushed the First Men up behind that point to stay out of their way as they brought the Faith of the Seven with them. You smiled a little yourself. “My uncles weren’t exactly much different, just a little more into the debauchery of it all then us. But I’ve heard things about my father.” 

“He’s taken an advisor in a woman from Asshai. A red priestess of this,” You paused to find the words but none were too kind, “fanatical religion. One of the men here call it R’hllor. This red god that works through fire and blood magic and sacrifice.”

The image in your mind of the blackness of the cell in Kings Landing, your memory of that dream was so faded now all you could recall was a terrible chilling cold, and that of a flame that seemed to fly past you before you woke up. The dream at the time unsettled you then, and yet now as you could barley even recall anything but that it still did. 

You must have been quiet for longer then a moment, as Robb leaned closer into your side as he murmured your name. “Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Shutting your eyes, you felt the nerves soothed once more by his thick warm voice draping like honey in your ear. 

You shrugged though, “I’m not sure. I shouldn’t even care, we have more to worry about.” He could tell you were rapidly changing the topic, but thankfully you knew that Robb knew better then to push you to talk when so much of how you worked things out was in the quiet of your head. 

“I’m going to speak to him.” Looking back at him, Robb had dropped more of the softness only you were privy to these days. “Jaime. He had admitted it to my mother, that he pushed Bran from the window. But now that the whole realm knows his secret, I want to hear him confess his crime to my face.” A look in his eye grew darker and harsher when he met your eyes. 

“I’d wish you luck, but I know neither of you need that now do you?” 

This time, he was far less soft as he pulled you into him by the back of your neck. Pressing his lips roughly to yours, and deepening it just enough to steal your breathe before pulling back with a bite to your lower lip. Smirking at the low look in your eyes as he brushed against your lips still as he spoke lowly. “Your King expects you to show me just how lucky he is later tonight, understood?” 

He kissed you once more before departing. If Robb was good at one thing, it was making you forget everything you were raised and trained to be as soon as he got that lustful, demanding look in his eyes. 

The growing disparity of numbers was doing your head in. So many men here, so many here and yet the amounts changed depending on the source and of course each man saw it differently. Lord Karstark across from you arguing about the sheer size in the Stormlands. “Even if he had twice that, he’s no better then a boy playing games. He’s fought no battles, and neither have half those summer boys camped out.” 

Biting your tongue as you considered it, you shook your head at the dismissal finally. “He has Highgarden and the Tyrells, which means he also has Randyll Tarly at his command.” 

The Greatjon beside you loud and brash as any, “Tarly’s more likely to inspire those men to pack their bags and head home then follow that rat into battle. Some say he had his eldest killed and his second sons not the sharpest one either.” 

Tilting your head in doubt you glanced up at him, “It doesn’t matter what he did, what matters is if he’s on Renly’s side then they have more leadership then none. I don’t care what the man’s like in private, I care about how quickly he can train his men.” 

Bolton to the right of you spoke much calmer much to your growing headache’s relief, “We should have approached the Tyrell’s before Renly married the girl.” 

Now that was a news you hardly could picture, no more then a political move but you had no concept of what your uncle was going to do to even try selling that reality. “There’s nothing we could’ve done, Renly’s been in with the Tyrells for longer then even Roberts been dead.” Roose glancing at you curiously as you elaborated. “He’d been trying to find a way to get Lady Margaery in Robert’s bed for over a year, and he didn’t just leave the city when Robert died he left with Ser Loras and fifty retainers with them.” 

“You think he already knew about the Queen?” 

Nodding to Karstark with confidence. “I know he did. There’d be no reason for it otherwise. He gets the Tyrells in with his brother, exposes the Queen’s secret and suddenly there’s a gap to be filled on the throne and oh would you look at that.” Hitting your palms with some force onto the table, “Someone already has a tie in with Highgarden that just so happens to have a hundred thousand men at arms.” 

“She’s right,” the gruff voice of Brynden Tully speaking up from the side of the room. “We dismiss Renlys army and it gives them the chance to smarten up without us noticing and sneak up behind us while we’re busy with Lord Tywin.” 

“Most of his men backed themselves into Harrenhal, he’ll join them most likely. Knows it’s too risky for us to march on him even in those ruins.” Your head continued to grow louder in it’s pain. There were four armies at this point, and frustratingly the North were the only ones who weren’t fighting for claim of the Iron Throne and yet it seemed all of the weight of this war was falling on your shoulders.

You stared at the lap, marks laid out as the debate continued. There was a certain amount of worry you were purposely keeping from them, one that you knew Robb was watching fester inside. You were not worried about Renly’s army against the North, no you knew better then that. 

Stannis would go after Renly first, considering him as his biggest threat having claimed his seat for himself and brought maybe ten thousand men of Storm’s End onto his side. Guessing you’d say your father was left with around five thousand which to most is something to scoff at, but you knew better then that. 

He had skill, drive, and little mercy for those who were in his way in ways that Renly had never even seen before. His enemy was Renly, then the Iron Throne and finally you had no doubt your father would end his campaign by coming after Robb. The North hadn’t declared independence just to hand themselves over to the crown without a fight. 

If Lord Tywin was your current enemy, it was your own father’s Iron fist that left you awake at night. The men around you bowing with mutterings of “Your Grace,” causing you to look up. Robb entering the room looking to you as you gave a slight grimace. Renlys numbers it seemed, continue to be the rotten apple of the bunch that was ruining the strength of the rest. 

Moving aside from where you were stood, palms braced against the table as you leaned over the chair as Robb moved around. Theon came in after him with a nod, “Your grace.” If there was one person who such formality felt odd being directed towards, it was the strangest coming from the Greyjoy. You had spent far too many years bickering and bantering to be used to being addressed as such from him. 

Taking a similar stance as you had, Robb looked over the map. “I assume we haven’t reached an agreement yet?” Brynden confirming that no you all had not, as he explained that the problem seems to be what to do about Renly. Robb considered the words, “He has the numbers, but he has the weakest claim and no talent for warfare. Last I heard he was busy holding competitions just to elect a kingsgaurd. Either we deal with him now when he’s no threat, or we let him turn into a threat and it is too late to come to any agreement.” 

Lord Karstark opened his mouth, speaking the first few syllables of protest before Greatjon’s voice bellowed pushing right back. “You not hear your King, Karstark? Or do you think this is up for debate.” 

The man muttering an apology, “No offence is taken, my lord. You are all hear to have your opinions heard.” Taking a seat, Robb begun to glance around to his men. “Now, why I’ve called you all here so late.” 

If you were being honest, it was far to much work to keep with the amount of Lannisters there. Some looked alike, some looked nothing like any you’d ever seen making you wonder just looks their parents had to create such a mix in appearances. The man in front of you had darker hair, somewhat similar eyes to his cousins but little else you saw that would place him but name. 

For all of the damage such striking blonde hair had caused in Kings Landing, the Lannisters did not seem to share the strength in familial looks that the Baratheons or Starks shared. He was still and quiet, but had nothing but an earnest respect on his face as he looked to the King now speaking to him. “You’re Ser Alton Lannister?” 

“I am, your grace.” 

He had been called upon in wake of the fresh defeat of forces, Robb to send him to Kings Landing and present the Queen with his peace terms. “She won’t care.” Renly’s voice had spoken once more in your head, and yet when telling that to Robb he wasn’t perturbed at all.  

“You’re right, she won’t. But then I’m the one who extended an offer to end the war, which means the fault lies with them for denying us. We have our enemies, but none who hate us quite as much as they hate the Lannisters.” 

It was clever to be honest. Make a simple offer of peace that could end Robb’s campaign against them with ease, especially considering it was incontestable the degree which they were losing the war against him. Give them one less army to fight and the North far more time to plan and resource how to handle Stannis should his own campaign for the throne succeed. 

“I offer your cousins peace if they meet my terms.” Robb spoke with the roughness of authority and yet the powerful calm of a man truly in charge. He suited his role perfectly, as if truly destined for him. “First, your family must release my sisters. Second, my father’s bone’s must be returned to us so he may rest beside his brother and sister in the crypts beneath Winterfell.” 

Your heart ripped a little at his demand. It ripped at his even though he did now show or speak it here and now. Your uncle had called such a place dark and depressing, when to the Starks it was where they belonged. A place they could stay together in the home they belonged in. Eddard Stark did not belong rotting away in Kings Landing, sick thinking of how long did they let his head decay away on those spikes. 

“And the remains of all those who died in his service must also be returned. Their families can honour them with proper funerals.” 

Alton for his part, had a look of understanding to each request so far. “An honourable request, your grace.” But your eyes narrowed at him, and he caught the look with a tiny shift to something more unsteady at the sight. You knew he wouldn’t take the next quite as easily as Robb too knew what he was asking him to deliver. 

“Third, Joffery and the Queen Regent must renounce all claim to dominion of the North.” Oh the look on the Lannister’s face that dropped so quickly. “From this time ‘till the end of time, we are a free and independent Kingdom.” 

The nervousness dripping from him as the loyal men surround you and Robb all unified in their words together, “The King in the North.”  

“Neither Joffery not any of his men shall set foot in our lands again. If he disregards this command, he shall suffer the same fate as my father. Only I don’t need a servant to do my beheading for me.” 

A chilling pride filling your veins. For as much learning as you had been given in your years growing up, none at all gave you anywhere near the ease of leadership that Robb had so quickly grown into. Alton Lannister in his place, stammered out “These are...Your grace, these are...”

Robb finding no issue in finishing his sentence for him. “These are my terms. If the Queen Regent and her son meet them, I’ll give them my peace. If not?” His voice dropping harsh and deep with no false or pretend in it to be found. “I will litter the south with Lannister dead.” 

As if he forgot where he was, Alton spoke out, “King Joffery is a Baratheon, your grace..”

“Is he?” 

Silence fell over the Lannister as he looked at you, a paleness in his face growing ever more white at the unblinking stare you gave him until the silence threatened to swallow the man whole. Robb had taken quite a bit of internal struggle to not smirk at just how quickly you turned the Northerners in the room to quick amusement at the mans expense. “You’ll ride at daybreak, Ser Alton.” 

Nodding, he was brought out of the tent as Robb dismissed the rest of his men. “That will be all for tonight.” 

Standing together, Robb raised an eyebrow with a playful glint in his eye. “Is he?” His smirk turning to more of a grin as you broke your own face into a smirk. “Nearly send that man into an early grave. Who would’ve sent the understanding Queen my oh so reasonable terms then?” 

Shrugging a shoulder at him, “I have no doubt there’s an endless amount of Lannisters around you can scare into it, my King.” 

Nudging you ahead of him playfully you both could see Theon waiting around the front as you three now stood at the opening of the tent. Looking to the camp settling itself in. “A word, your grace?” 

Robb sounded almost bashful as he turned to him, “You don’t have to call me your grace when no one’s around.” A small pocket of ease settled between the three of you, for a short moment you were not the leaders of a war as Theon shrugged. 

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it.” 

Feeling Robb’s hand run gently along your arm and wrist where he could find without looking, as you twisted to run yours over his hand back as he sighed. “I’m glad someone’s gotten used to it. “

Cutting to the chase Theon at least understood what was happening. “The Lannisters are going to reject your terms, know.” Robb wasting no breathe in affirming that of course they would as Theon turned to you both. “We can fight them in the fields as long as you like, but we won’t need them until you take Kings Landing. And we can’t take Kings Landing without ships.” 

Glancing at you, Theon could clearly tell by how quickly glanced to Robb that you could see exactly where this was headed. Both of your families had ships, but only one of you had any chance at bringing them to Robb. “My father has ships, and men who know how to sail them.” 

“Men who fought our fathers.” 

You felt doubt, not in Theon but perhaps in those who he was speaking of. He looked at you with a plead, and you felt for how long he must have considered bringing this up. “Men who fought against King Robert to free themselves from the toke of the south, men who fought against the very father that you’re siding against now.” Your jaw clenched, but you didn’t argue back. He wasn’t wrong. Not at all. 

“I’m his only living son. He’ll listen to me, I know he will.” 

Flickering his eyes to you, a trust was found in both of your eyes in the man before you both that had been as close as could be for over ten years now. Theon’s words were quiet, hitting you with an emotional weight that he hadn’t intended, nor do you think either considered. “I’m not a Stark, I know that. But your father raised me to be an honourable man.” 

You thought of those dreams, those visions of nothing in your eyes that appeared out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly. A deep rasp that spoke too much of the same words, and yet filled with a pain that send him towards the edge of the world. Neither you not Robb had mentioned it yet but you both certainly felt it, especially as you, him, and Theon all stood here fighting for the same thing. 

A fourth person was missing and both of you felt his absence each day grow more difficult. 

It felt as if the night had never ended. One thing turned to another and another, and little by little by the point you had a chance to peel off the heavy fabric weight you down. Or was it the war around you doing that all on its own? You could hear just outside the quiet mutterings following by a distinct wolfish huff that had you smile. 

Something about the way only Robb could speak to Grey Wind intrigued you. Like it was a companion that understood him, maybe even others. The direwolf was smart enough, but seemed to choose to obey only one. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that Grey Wind did not follow Robb inside, choosing instead to rest comfortably out at the entrance like a lock to the door that didn’t actually exist. Also ignoring the dark look in his eye as he looked you over, turning away from his eyes as you hid how flustered he made you look. “She didn’t take it very well, I’m assuming.” 

“No she didn’t. To either.” Glancing over you saw him move to tear off the layers himself, narrowing your eyes as you crossed the room, motioning for him to turn around. Standing behind him, you had rise up on your toes to comfortably reach at his shoulders as Robb turned slightly to glance at you, a cheeky grin on his face. “You know I have a squire to do this right?” 

Pausing mid movements you leaned over more to meet his gaze, “My apologies, your grace. Shall I go fetch him to undress you tonight?” Robb tried turning to grab at you, only to be stopped by your hands bracing against his shoulders. “No? Then don’t move.” 

As you undid the pauldrons on his shoulders, the weight did nothing to rid him of the itensity in his muscles there, pausing your work only to run your palms over then. Digging in slightly, his breath hitched for a second, exhaling when you moved continued down his arms to undo the armour. “Told me never to trust a Greyjoy.” 

You were glad to be behind him, not wishing for him to see the irritation in your face despite how much you tried to hide it. “We’re not trusting a Greyjoy, we’re trusting Theon. She should know by now there’s a difference.” 

Robb could hear it in your voice however, but he didn’t blame you nor did he hide it in his own frustrations. “If we didn’t make allies in anyone who hasn’t been our enemy before, it’d be seven kingdoms all blindly fighting each other with no one to trust.” As his arms were released, you could see Robb flexing and relaxing them in a pattern, trying to keep the stress from tensing him too much. 

“Hell if that were the case I certainly wouldn’t be allowed to be here would I.” This time he turned to fast for you to hold him in pace. His eyes were unamused as they bore into yours. “I mean if this all goes the way we think it will, it’s not just the Lannisters we’ll be fighting against.” 

His voice was low, and the hefty concern in them made you feel small, or smaller perhaps. “I want you to listen to me.” Shaking off his chest plate he had far more room to pull you closer. “You are far more then just Stannis’s daughter. You’re my wife, the woman I love, and the Queen all those men out there call their own.” Grasping your face gently, he pulled you to look at him, his face serious but the blue in his eyes shined brightly in the dim yellow light. “If we fight him, we fight him. But you won’t do it alone.”

Staring at you until you slowly nodded, he gave you a light, gentle kiss before pulling back. “May I continue?” Kneeling down you started on the last of it quickly, having done it enough times by now for him. Walder Frey gave him a squire, but you much preferred doing certain things yourself for him, you had to share the other with some thirty thousand men out there the least the boy could do was find anywhere else to be at night but in your tent. 

You were quiet and didn’t glance up as you spoke, “I love you as well, just if we’re being honest.” 

The chuckle above you was darker then you thought, a shiver down your spine as he spoke. “Dangerous thing to say to a man when you’re on your knees before him.” Tearing your eyes up you had no way of stopping the way your gaze took it’s time strolling up his body as you freed him from the remaining metal. His hand ran over the side of your face, thumb brushing against your bottom lip before beckoning you up. 

Undoing the laces to slide off the thin material covering your own body, you felt your body want to shake from the sudden cold air but the deep breathe Robb let you as he rested his forehead against yours make you warm. His large hands grasping your hips and pulling you to press against him. “You cannot keep doing this to me, I’d like to get my whole thought out for once before you make me want to shove you into my bed.” 

Pulling back, you looked into his eyes now a much deeper colour then before as you very gently undid the shirt covering his chest. Not looking away still as you slid it open and off both his shoulders to let it drop to the ground. “Well, I’m listening.”  

Either such a quiet growl you were meant to hear, or something only meant for himself you felt his hands tighten against you. “How is it I have five siblings, and yet you’re the one whose the biggest brat?” Not moving, you much more calmly pressed your palms against his chest and up to rest along his shoulders and neck as he collected himself. “She tried telling me I should just send you instead.” 

You bit your tongue as the scenario played out in your mind, “The last time I saw Renly, I told him he was out of his mind thinking he could be a king, and not to do anything stupid. I’m not sure he’d be so keen on letting me walk in and out of his camp.” 

Robb adding, “Not to mention all they’ll see is their enemies daughter, not the wife of the King trying to offer a truce.” The conflict in your heart just never left did it. It was always bubbling to the surface waiting to escape and taunt you. “We agreed to stay together from now on. Where I go, you go, and right now we belong here, with our men fighting this war. I’m not sending you off miles away where anyone could take you.” 

Sliding your hands around the back of his neck, one threaded through his hair as he wrapped his arms around more to pull you into his chest properly. His voice muffled as he rested it in your neck. “I’m not fighting this war without you, and I don’t want to.” 

Sensing he needed more ease, you scratched your nails along his scalp but the shudder he let out was strong. “What do you need? From me, right now?” 

Hands rough along your hips as he started running them up and down, you could feel his heart beating fast against your chest. One of his hands slid back, grasping one of the cheeks of your ass tightly while his mouth slid up to ear your. “What I need, is for you to be a good girl for me tonight. Can you do that?” 

He knew he had you by the hitch your breathe and how much tighter your nails dug into him at his own touch against you. It was unseemly just how quickly Robb could unravel everything that made you stoic, and quietly intimidating to those under you when he got you alone like this. He could make your body buzz with need only to be quenched as he told you what to do. It was just unfair how easily be had you so freely wanting to submit to him. 

Pulling away to look him his eyes you nodded at him yes. “Good.” Moving back, Robb sat at the edge of the bed. Legs spread and nodding for you to knee before him. Trying to keep your breathe even as he once more ran his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly before moving his hand away to grasp at your jaw. “Pull me out.” 

Your eyes and hands as focused as they were undoing his armour only this time you felt the wetness between your legs increase as you tugged his pants down just enough to grasp at his cock. Already hard, it was thick in your hand as you freed him and shuffled closer. Robb slid his hand to the back of your head. “You want to please me? Make your husband feel better?” Your hand tightened around his length more firmly as he spoke as if unaffected by your touch. “Suck my cock.” 

Pulling you closer to him, your eyes slid shut as you gently took the leaking tip of his cock into your mouth. Not pushing you to take more, just letting you slowly adjust to how much he would start stretching your lips open the deeper you would take him. The saliva gathering quickly and mixing with what bit of precum was already there he held you until he was confident your mouth was more then ready to soak his cock. 

The tiny sigh you let out as he slid deeper, his cock heavy on your tongue as you tasted him. Once he started pushing you down, you knew he’d push as far as you could take it. Which by now, was far more then the first time you ever took him in your mouth. He had trained your mouth well. 

Just as he teased your gag reflex, Robb loosened his grip letting you pull back on your own. He kept his touch to the back of your head but let you bob up and down his cock. Your thighs pressing together as you let him fill your mouth, the bit of saliva trailing from the side of your lips only increasing the more you ran your tongue over his length.

Your hands braced against his thighs, Robb moving to give you more space as he let out a groan, his head falling back, eyes sliding shut at the feeling. You sucked him eagerly like you couldn’t get enough and maybe that was exactly the case. Taking him as deep as you could handle, your face pressed up against the coarse hair around his cock before Robb pulled you off completely, you gasping for hair as he held you close enough to see the mix of saliva and his own seed drop from your lips. Yanking you to look up at him, he was breathing harsher and his teeth gritting together. “Can you take more?” 

Nodding your head, Robb smiled like a man on the hunt and you were just ripe for the attack. “Anything,” 

Almost hissing at the words, Robb coaxed you forward feeding you more of his cock once more now that you had caught your breathe. “Is that so? You going to let me do anything to you? Whatever I want?” You hummed against his cock, the need between your own legs growing in desire. “Let me fill your mouth like a pretty little whore, and then I’ll show you what I really want.”  

Robbs words rough but they blocked out everything beyond his sound and touch and taste. He throbbed in your mouth as you sucked his cock before pushing you down to once more brush against the hair at his base. “Fuck- oh good girl,” 

His hand in your hair loosening as he let go, cumming in your mouth and caressing you through how much he was giving you. His cum warm and thick that made him hard to swallow down when he held you so close, but he spilled all down your throat as you moaned around him. His mouth running as much as his cock spilled inside you, “Swallow all of me, my love. That’s right, just like a good little slut.” 

When he finally finished, he slowly pulled you off his cock. Wasting no time, he pulled you to sit up and straddle his lap as he kissed your lips. No shame in being able to taste himself on your tongue you leaned into his chest. Robb running a hand all through your hair, making a tangled mess of things as you begun kissing down his jaw and neck. 

Him how shivering at your touch, you had learned he wanted you to be rough with him when he was with you. Nights like tonight, he was a wolf who wanted you to play. 

Biting at the skin you could already feel him growing hard again, your lips licking and pressing a kiss to each mark you made, sinking lower and lower as you could to leave them along his collarbone. He watched you with hooded eyes, lips still parted as he tried desperately to control himself and failing. 

Pulling you up to look him in the eyes, Robb trailed his hand down between your legs and just as he teased the idea of easing you into it, he pushed two thick fingers inside of you down to the knuckles. A loud cry leaving your mouth as he did nothing to stop you from it. Only fucking you with them at a far faster pace then was kind, and you couldn’t get enough of it. 

How he played you like an instrument and the sounds were your moans and pleas of his name, and the sound of how wet you had become as he touched you. Your insides tightening quickly, far faster then it took you to bring him to the edge. “Sucking my cock get you this worked up?” 

Catching your eye as he fisted your hair tighter, your hands digging into his shoulders to keep yourself steady. “Yes, yes, it did. You always do,” Your voice so light and breathless as it faded into another cry as his thumb brushed your clit. “Make me feel so good, every part of you.” 

Gods help you when Robb found the moods to tease you about the way you sound, even worse when he reminds you that there is every single chance that his men have heard you. Their head strong Queen in the North who begs and cries for her King’s cock in the night. Maybe it was a good thing Theon was to leave for a while, you certainly knew he had been stockpiling that material to make fun of you with in private. 

You wanted to bury your face in the neck you just marked up, but he refused. Forcing you back to watch you, like keeping you at a distance as he touched you was just another ploy to make you melt. “Cum for me, soak my hand like a good girl and I’ll fuck you full of my cock. Is that what you want?” 

Through almost painful cries as he pushed you closer to the edge, you shook your head. Robb asking in such a sweetly mocking tone what it was you wanted then. “To please you, I oh fuck- please use me however you want, that's what I want, I promise,” 

Smiling in such a dark, dominating manner he leaned to brush his lips against yours. “That’s right, you’re here to please me like the needy slut you are.” Pressing his lips in a light kiss be rubbed tightly against your clit as you came around his fingers. Shaking in his hold as he kept you in place, watching your eyes struggle to even stay open. 

You had barley even started to come down before Robb moved, pushing you face down onto the bed before yanking your hips up in the hair. You suspect if he weren’t so worked up, he may have made you beg to fuck you, but before you even came down from your own orgasm he pushed inside of you. The stinging stretch still came with every time he fucked you, but you clenched around him as the aftershocks of pleasure came back to spike into your core again. 

Pushing his hips hard to fill you completely, you cried out his name as Robb grit his teeth and held you so tight you’d be bruised come morning. Whispering almost just to himself in wonder, “Fuck you’re still coming down,” He held you tighter before pulling back and thrusting inside of you once more. 

The pace he set fast and greedy, your hands clenching the sheets below you as you made no sounds that contained words other then, “Fuck”, “please,” or “Robb”. His cock pounding inside of you right against that sensitive wall that took away the rest of the air in your lungs. You felt like he could ask you to say, admit, or do anything when you were fucked like this and you wouldn’t think twice.

One hand ran down your spine before once more tangling in your hair as he held your head into the sheets, leveraging himself to fuck you with rougher thrusts. The need inside of you coiling so tightly that you could feel yourself getting more wet around his length. “Do you want to cum for me? Be a good little whore and cum all over my cock just so I’ll spill inside you?” Nodding as best you could he knew that you were falling deeper. His hand more gentle around your hair before sliding around to your neck and pulling you gently up as he thrusted slow but hard. “You always want my cum don’t you?” 

“Always, Robb, always. Please, gods my love, I need you.” 

Oh did that ever do Robb in, fucking into you with little regard for any rhythm as he spoke low over the delicious sounds of his hips slapping against your ass. “I need you too, I always fucking need you,” Gasping into the sheets you felt the coil snap and the pleasure burned right through you and tensing every muscle. Clenching around him hard, Robb lost his final sense of control, pushing inside deeply as he spilled inside of you.  

You felt light headed, floating in bed as he slowly pulled out of you. For a split moment when you couldn’t feel him at all, you fisted the sheets below you tightly almost anxiety bubbling in your chest at the lack of touch. Before you felt him cover your back, turning you to your side as he pulled your sweaty hair off of your face, kissing gently below your ear. His voice soothing you back to earth gently as you felt the haze doze off. 

Relaxing in his arms, you reached behind you to run your hand through his hair. Robb capturing you hand to press a kiss to your palm before sending it on it’s way, your name on his lips gentle in your ear “Talk to me, are you alright?” You nodded, and he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you back closer. “I didn’t push you too hard?” 

For all the rough touches and growling words Robb quickly learned that he didn’t feel relaxed after fucking you until he checked in. Making sure he didn’t go too roughly or was too strict with you. Shaking your head no he ran his nose over your cheek before relaxing behind you. 

It was quiet between you for a while before a question popped in your head. “Robb, why send your mother and not one of the other lords?” 

His voice was low and rumbling in your ear, not near sleep as you were but content to lay with you nonetheless. “I’ve known her my whole life, I trust her.” There was a pause before a tiny hint of a cheeky tone peeked through. “She’s also the least intimidating out of this lot. You really think Renly would respond well to someone like Roose or Maege?”

You both laughed in the others arms, “You have a point. A hundred thousand men and yet I don’t think any of them would be as tough as your mother is.” Once the Starks made you one of their own, it seemed like being a wolf is the inevitable outcome. 

What caught your attention just as you begun to drift off, was the way that no words or noise made from Robb in anyway occurred. His hand running up and down your side and yet as if obediently following a spoken order, Grey Wind made his way into the tent. His large frame circling around like any small dog before settling close by the bed. 

Robb’s hand had stopped moving as Grey Wind had done so, and only started up once the direwolf was inside and settling down for the night. To sleepy to focus on it, you let it slip your mind. 

The camp was in a hustle as they all prepared to move out, with the bulk of Tywin’s forces moving in on Harrenhal, it left pockets of lesser forces in the open. Robb determining they would be easy to wipe through, especially in the dead of night. Something, the Lannister forces had yet to catch on that it may be something to watch for. 

It was still quite early, the sun barley even awake as you made your way through the camp. Your eyes sharp, only softening a bit to nod at those giving a slight bow and “your grace” as you passed. Coming to one specific cell near the back, sat a face you wished you weren’t so familiar with. 

Ser Jaime Lannister, Kingslayer. As your father’s raven had so described him. Covered in filth and tied to a wooden pole, he didn’t look quite as fierce as his reputation proceeded. The guard opening the gate as you approached, obeying the nod of your head to step back for a moment to give you space with him. His mouth it seemed, was still working just fine. 

“I’m a lucky man, a visit from our dear Queen in the North so early in the morning.” Stepping inside, you felt the shiver of cold morning air that you could at least depend on going the more south you travelled today. “I can’t quite tell, is it just spending what? Months being dragged around by this ugly lot, or has leadership made you that much more ravishing.” You stared down as unmoving and unamused as ever before he dramatically rolled his eyes. “Still have your father’s charm I see.” 

Your arms crossing over your chest, voice as flat as could be. “I’d ask how you were fairing, but I think we both how little your answer would change anything.” Looking down at him, you still could see the same smug face that had mocked you and Lord Stark mere moments before a spear was shoved through his leg. “You had a late chat with the King last night, did you not?” 

“We did, hope that didn’t interfere with your plans too much. Though I suppose it didn’t, your husband doesn’t seem too bothered about anyone hearing you does he?” You only looked down at him, eyebrows raised as if to tell him if he has a point, to get to it. “Seems like a jealous man, making sure every man here knows what he does to you at night, just to mock them that it’s not them who gets it.” 

Stepping forward you marched right past his words. “Curiously, it seems like you did nothing but deny such allegations against you.” The pause in his face did in fact, stand out. “Odd because when Ned Stark approached your sister with the same, she sung like a bird. Told him all about how you were born together, so you belong together.” 

Something almost uncomfortable came over his face, for once, you found that hard to read. He was a hard man to read most of the time even past his words. “I assure you, my sister does an awful lot of talking and most of the time people just don’t seem to know when she’s lying.” 

“You also confessed to Lady Catelyn.” You also know a rough looking scar across his face was from a rock she hit him with. Even now, it made you proud that it looked like it must have hurt. “Told her the truth, told her how it was you who pushed her ten year old son out a window.” 

As if unable to find words, he just scrunched his face up in dismissal. “And?” 

Now that got a tiny smirk from you. Stepping closer once more, your eyes flickered to where his legs were spread. How easily he could kick you from here, but you were well aware he couldn’t get anywhere past those chains. “You push a child from a window beacuse he saw you with the Queen. You don’t deny pushing him, you don’t deny that you fucked her and yet when faced with the same thing you deny it to Robb Stark’s face. I’m just curious of the change of heart.” 

His eyes narrowed at you, both playing a game trying to read the other only it was a competition between two experts in such a matter. You hid in plain sight as well as he did, only with slightly less bloodshed and betrayals on your side of the river. “Tell me, would you confess your sins to him in my position?” 

Crouching down in front of him, you took no thought in how much you actually knew you should keep your distance. “Tell me, Lannister. What sins have I committed that you think puts me at your level?” 

He was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke, it was soft. Almost like a genuine question as something not as sinister sat behind his green eyes. “It’s not easy, keeping that sort of thing to yourself is it? No matter what your heart screams at you, the other part of you knows its far safer to keep it locked away. Don’t think about it if you don’t have to, and maybe it won’t eat away at you in guilt.” 

You stayed silent, watching him with a narrowed brow as he dumped it on you like a bucket of freezing water. “How close did you get? To giving yourself to him?” For all the pounding of your heart, you stayed as unmoving as a statue. “I wondered if you had at first, the way he looked at you, how you tried not to look back. Would have been easy I imagine. You spent so much time in the North, you both probably know just where to go to not get caught.” 

You shoved his face out of your mind. You made your choice, in mind and heart. And you don��t regret making that choice at all. Just let him play his game, he wouldn’t do anything more then say it to you. Hard to tell if he didn’t have any interest in playing the game of whispers as so many in Kings Landing did, or he just didn’t have the patience to try. “Next time I give myself to my husband for the first time I’ll be sure to invite you to witness the evidence first hand.” 

“He came close though. Very close. A man doesn’t look at a woman the way he did if he’s never been anywhere near close to fucking her.” Jaime leaned his head back against the post, almost resting casually like a chat between friends. “You wouldn’t let it get that far, though. Considering who you are, and who he is, or was should I say. Afterall you can’t get much further away from you then all the way up there.” 

It was hard to push him back out of your mind, the memory was clear. Most of your time with him as so clear you could reach out and brush your fingertips against it. But to do so, was to acknowledge what you wished would go away. Find a life that wasn’t marred in secrets of the heart. For a second you looked away, to the ground of nothing as a gear turned in your mind. 

If you didn’t admit the truth, you could pretend it wasn’t real. Meeting his eyes back with a curious scrutiny, you begun to suspect the same for him. Only you weren’t trying to make your way back to that life, you had made your peace with it and chose a future that could want you freely. 

You suspected Jaime Lannister however, didn’t have such a person in his life to give him that chance. 

In the quiet between you, keen ears begun to reach out to listen. The longer you spoke with him, the more that concern of you, perhaps the jealousy making it grow begun to take hold. Only the closer he got to the edges of the cage, the less anyone suspected. 

“It’s a shame. Tommen and Myrcella are good kids, maybe no one would quite have cared if your third didn’t turn out the way he did.” He had little to say, as you leaned in. “But the worse he gets, the louder those rumours are going to become. Best gets used to hearing them thrown at you, I won’t be the last.” 

As if something inside changed, he glanced over you. “Stark must be relieved you didn’t inherit your fathers looks along with his joyless personality.” Your face fell far more flat and whole unimpressed at his mocking. “Can’t imagine armour that dark or sleek looks good on any Baratheon, some dead ancestor of yours must have done the gods work to skip past all those brothers to land on you.” 

“I’ve seen enough of your family to know that most of your cousins weren’t blessed with the same looks.” 

The sheer confidence in him, to many times in Kings Landing had you spoken to him as he held such a high opinion, dangling it around like a marionette everyone should gawk and awe at. “Did I lose my hearing along with my freedom, or did the Queen in the North just give me a compliment?” 

Now this was a game you’ve played before, but with far more likeable and non condescending bantering partners. “I’m dull, not blind.” 

As he was cracking a smile, you heard the pattering of feed behind you curiously. “No, not when you’ve spent your life around Starks like that.” Nodding to the distance of nothing in particular. “You know, we aren’t actually related.” 

The steps grew behind you with no sound but them reaching you as the man spoke. “I always thought you’d be a bore in bed, but now I can’t help but be curious what kind of she wolf Stark has turned you into underneath all that.” 

In a second, a large figure leaped in beside you just as you stood to your full height. Grey Wind beside you in an aggressive display growling at him, Jaime leaning back with his eyes almost squeezed shut before you reached a hand out. Grasping onto the fur along the direwolf’s back ,Grey Wind backed off in a second. Standing large a foot out in front of you still, until you eyed the Lannister once more and turned away. 

Grey Wind took a moment before he too turned, and as he followed you along the way, you noted that he seemed much more like himself then moments before. Yet still followed you the way he only did for Robb. 

You didn’t clue in when later in the day, Robb had glanced in the direction of the cage Jaime was in as he pulled you into him with dark eyes and a greed in his voice that had your heart pumping a big harder. “If he speaks to you like that again, I’ll drag him into our tent and make him watch me take you apart until the sun rises.” 

It was a frustrating point the ride out, waiting on Theon about the Iron Islanders, waiting to hear on Renly. If they both said no, you and Robb would handle it but it was the in between times on horseback where you could see in the far off look in those bright blue eyes that spoke it. The frustration of trying to find just who your true allies were as so far the entire weight of this war rested on him alone. 

For all the talk of kings and armies, the only one who had the strength and ability to fight this war so far, was Robb. The only one posing a threat, even despite all the talk that he was young and over eager as the Lannisters continued to lose out. 

As unsure of his abilities as a King were in private, looking to him in those moments you saw nothing but what a real King is made of. Like Robb was not aware of the degree that his own men worshipped him. They chose him, and yet not once did he let any hubris take hold of that fact. 

Robb held his kingship like a weight that would sink him at any splash, and you couldn’t help but see something you had not watched in a King as long as you were alive. There were many claims of kings in this realm now, and perhaps it was your own bias, your own love that spoke of such an opinion. 

But the only one you could say had the strength of a man that makes him worthy of King, was the man next to you. Jaime Lannister had a point in some, but you had done what he refused to do. Chose a life, taken a path that would lead you to where you truly were supposed to be. 

And the way Robb looked at you back, and the way his men never looked at you as less then? It was hard to image yourself in this life that didn’t bring you to here and now. 

That confidence in the day however, wasn’t the same confidence that danced in your dreams once the sun went down. In the dark of nights, fast asleep was when the dreams of cold and ice came to you, ones that filled you with a fear you didn’t even think was yours. 

You told no one of the night you dreamt of that tall figure, of the cries of a newborn baby and the striking eyes so blue they felt not of this earth and how those eyes carried away those infants cries into the darkness before you awoke. 

Nor did you know why in the few seconds between waking from such a dream, to falling back asleep, did you think of Jon. 

[jj-5656]

First and Last With; James Potter

A/N: Hello again! I finally finished that wonderful request, so sorry it took forever. Football (NFL playoffs) and school preparations have kept me preoccupied. Winter break is over and I’m absolutely devastated. For anyone in college, I wish you luck for this Spring Semester. But with that being said, school starting back up means I likely won’t upload as much. So I apologize in advance. Regardless, I hope this makes up for the wait on this request. To the lovely anon and all others, enjoy!

Summary: The one where the Marauders vacation to the Potter’s beach house, and a revealing drinking game ensues...

TW: Descriptions of panic attacks, Sirius is an ass as usual, a lot of mutual pining.

   “Marlene, you have packed half of your house and more, it’s just a week’s vacation.”

“Anything could happen, Sirius. Better to be over prepared than under prepared.”

“I’m just happy James is filthy rich.” Dorcas deadpans, straightening when you and Lilly shoot her a disapproving look. “And so, very generous at the same time.”

“I’m not filthy rich.” James laughs, taking your bags from your grasp and loading them into the trunk for you. Amongst all of your friends belongings, piled high enough to reach the top of the van you’ve rented for the adventure. “We’re just...Comfortable.”

“That’s what all rich people say.” You and Remus look to each other, stunned at your simultaneous blunt confessions. 

“Shush, the lot of you.” Lilly chides, never sparing commonalities. 

“Remind me why we couldn’t just use floo powder? I’m already sweating, and my complexion does not do well in heat.” Sirius fans himself dramatically. James allows you to lift yourself over the mountains of bags with his arm for support in order to reply. 

“When have any of you experienced the adventure of a road trip?” You’re beaming at the thought, James takes your distraction as an opportunity to admire your unusually giddy attitude. Though the real reason you’re so eager to be away from home pulls at his mind, his grin faltering. He pokes your side, grabbing your attention. 

“Miss sunshine gets shotgun, I’ve called it.”

“Prongs, I thought you’d have wanted me to be your passenger princess?”

“Absolutely not, though I’ll miss those luscious locks of yours. I’m driving, so I select my navigator.”

“You’ve been there a million times.” You note, crossing your arms incredulously. James smirks, placing his burgundy and gold quidditch cap atop your head. 

“I’d much rather you keep me company.” He says so only you can hear, unknowing of your flushing when he turns back to Sirius. “Pads, Moons is gonna need a pretty view, it’s fortunate he’ll have you in the middle seat.”

“I’m reading! Reading this entire time, very busy.” Remus teases, pleased with the raven-haired boy’s mock offense. 

You round the corner of the van after checking the trunk for the fourth time, positive you haven’t forgotten any supplies for the trip. James is at the passenger side, holding the door open for you. He’s got a pair of prescription sunglasses on, and looks very different. No less handsome, if anything, the shades accentuate the bravado you’ve always envied. His arms are especially toned after another quidditch season, tanned from the summer sun you’ve missed so dearly. You’re staring. 

“Systems ready, co-pilot?” He beams down at you, pulling his cap over your eyes in teasing. You stick a tongue out at him, pulling his arms away so you can  adjust it right again. 

“I feel silly in this.”

“Nonsense, you look adorable. My clothes suit you.” He defends, so casual you don’t let the words resonate until after he’s shut your door and rounded to the drivers side. 

“Enjoy the passenger seat, princess.” Sirius sneers, pouting despite not holding any true ill-will. 

“Gladly.” 

************

“Are we there yet?” 

“No, Dorcas. Just like we weren’t there ten minutes ago.” James glances at the girl through the rearview, slightly amused with her childish complaints. 

“You know, we could just pull over and-”

“No floo powder!” You and Lilly shout to Sirius, hoping not to have awoken a sleeping Marlene and Remus. Sirius covers their ears, both of them having dropped their heads on each one of his shoulders some time throughout their slumber. You finish fiddling with the radio when a good song comes on, taking a moment to look at the lot of your friends all corralled in the van. 

“Where’s the camera, James?” 

“On my side door here, I’ll pull over if you want it.” 

“Oh, so you’ll pull over for her.”

“Shut it, Pads.” 

“No need, I can reach it.” You lean over the seat, careful not to block his view of the road as you quickly grab it. James swallows, clears his throat to act natural whilst all of his insides begin to burn. 

“Hot?” Is all you ask, studying his discomposure.

“What?” He starts, voice shaky and strained. Sirius falls into a fit of muffled laughter from the back, leaving you confused. “J-Just a little warm, yeah.” Potter recovers, now well aware you were inquiring about temperature. You turn up the AC, taking the cover off the lens and pointing the camera toward the back. Sirius smiles wide for the camera, handsome features lighted by the early afternoon sun. Marlene and Remus drool along on his shoulders as Lilly beams brightly from the back. Looking positively radiant, as always. Dorcas smiles, but holds up her favorite finger to the lens. You grin,full of adoration for the entire lot of them as you snap a couple photos, ensuring they’re all in the frame. 

James admires in increments from the rearview, blowing a raspberry to the camera when you point it at him. 

“Eyes on the road, Potter.” He shakes his head, running a hand over the steering wheel in a mindless habit as he hears the camera snap. Looking over quickly to smile at the lens. Effortlessly handsome, as usual. 

“We have to take as many pictures as possible this week.” You demand, getting excited all over again for the much needed vacation, spent with all your best friends, no less. 

You roll down your window even more, sticking your head to enjoy the warm, salty air. It smells of the beach, grass, all things green and beautiful. You’re so happy your head spins, giggling to yourself as you catch Lilly doing the same behind you. Meeting her eyes in the side mirror and scrunching your nose when she blows a kiss, an embellished hand pretending to capture it in the air and holding it to your heart. 

James does a double take from his view of the road and then you. Trying to stay focused and not find any distraction in your adorably delighted mood. His brows furrow when you shuffle forward, aiming to get even more of your body out of window the feel the entirety of what this beautiful view has to offer.

“Absolutely not.” He chastises, a finger hooking onto your belt loop and tightening. His eyes are on the road, one hand on the wheel as he tugs you back inside. 

“Lame!” You whine, hitting his arm in distaste. 

“I prefer my friends with their pretty heads in tact, thank you.” 

You settle in your seat, still full of delight but a little more contemplative as you think about what got you here.

“Summer vacation!” Sirius throws himself between you and Remus during lunch. Gathering an assortment of food on his own plate. You’ve barely eaten, stomach turning at the thought of being home for two months. You’re nudged from under the table, meeting James’ gaze, whose eyes avert to your abandoned plate. A subtle request for you to eat. You offer a weak smile, shrugging before your friends go on. 

“Two whole months without exams.” Marlene adds, absolutely pleased with not having to spend another second with her nose in a book. 

“We’ll be seventh years, I can hardly believe it.” You’ve considered Lilly’s words the entirety of this last month of classes, absolutely dreading going home. Hogwarts is more home than your house would ever be, and your friends are the only real family you have. You lose your breath at this, biting at the nail of your thumb and wincing when it draws blood. 

“I’m gonna head to the library,” You announce, blinking hard to fight the room from blurring. “Forgot to turn in my potions textbook.” It’s believable enough for the group to nod along, chorusing their farewells as you head out of the great hall. Heart racing and hands trembling. James takes only a moment, eyes following you the entire time. It’s not his business, but he knows that demeanor. He’s seen all of this before, in the boy he calls his best friend. Sirius Black, who leans forward and shoots James a look. Instantly, the chaser is on his feet, mumbling a feeble excuse and heading out of the hall in search for you. 

“I think he left the curling iron on.”

James searches the corridor wildly, all of the students being in the Great Hall makes the search easy, he can follow the sound of your fleeting footsteps with ease in this sea of silence. He follows your distant frame up a set of stairs, cursing to himself when they shift before he can follow your path. He’s searching for a new route, not wanting to shout to you and scare you even more.

There’s a lot of running, a couple instances of tripping over his own feet, but eventually Potter catches up to you. 

You’re sat in a windowsill beneath an overhang of a hallway above, curled in on yourself. James approaches carefully, trying to control his panting breaths. 

“Fuck, James!” You startle each other, studying the other instantly.

“You’re” the athlete coughs, winded, “so fast.” You smile, but it does little to calm you down, because as he gets closer, the view around him blurs, and everything sounds cloudy, distant. 

“I’m,” you try to form words, too loud because you can’t hear yourself properly. “F-fine.” You try to move, try escaping to prevent embarrassing yourself further. Clutching your chest and swiping at the flood of tears that can’t be ceased. 

“You’re not. You’re having a panic attack.” 

“Happened b-before,” you wheeze, staring at your hands to make sure they’re real “I’m good.” 

“And I’m a humble introvert that loves Slytherin, sit down.” You begin to wheeze, rubbing your hands over your legs to stop them from sweating, ground yourself maybe. “I’m gonna hug you, tight. Is that alright?” You nod, because you’re not entirely sure what he’s just said and it’s easier to comply. 

He encloses you in an embrace, loosening for only a second when you fight it. He’s squeezing again, but it’s not unpleasant. You’re shaking, and your breaths are still rapid. James swallows, terrified and unsure. Because all of this usually helps Sirius but he’s still kind of freaking the fuck out.

“Let’s talk about something.” He suggests, wincing when you hiccup for air in reply. “I know you’ll love this. What’s something about me that annoys you?” You’re aware he’s trying to distract you, and you feel like you’re dying, so you give it a go in the off chance it’ll help.

“You’re im-immature.”

“Good. But you’ve done better than that, love.” 

“You’re reckless. You play quidditch like,” you lick your lips, trying to control your trembling. “Like you’re indestructible.” 

“Attagirl, something else?”

“You’re picky, and...And you’re too stubborn to try new things.” James hums, recalling a time you’d forced him to drink pumpkin juice an he hurled in the lavatory minutes later. He rests his chin on your head, pleased when the added pressure slows your breathing. 

“You’d do anything for your friends, no matter the personal expense. It’s self destructive, p-probably exhausting.”

“Ouch. You really know how to flatter a man, love.” 

“I don’t want to go home.” You whisper, so quiet he’d miss it had he not been surveying your every move. The confession shocks even you, and James, for likely the first time in his life, is devastated to be right about something. 

“I’m not gonna let you. We’re going to figure this out. I’m gonna figure this out, I promise.” 

“You’re doing that thing again.” You note, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your robe. Further comforted in the feel of his chest vibrating against you from laughing.

“And you’re forming full sentences.” He loosens, giving you space to decide whether or not you want to separate.  You don’t, not right away, not when you can feel the strong, stable beating of his heart. 

“What am I gonna do? I can’t stay here over break. Even if Dumbledore allowed it, my family would-” You falter, unable to finish. James holds tight again, nauseated. 

“I promised. And I intend on keeping it, love.”

**********

“Land! Sweet, sweet land.” Sirius cries, throwing himself onto the freshly cut grass. 

“James, it’s stunning.” Lilly shades her eyes to admire the shore house. Standing taller than the others around it. 

“It’s home. Away from home, that is.” James shrugs, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. There’s a faint, deep-rooted envy for the blessings your friends hold. Sirius rolls onto his back to look at you, the only one noticing your hunched shoulders amongst the rest of the group beginning to unload the van. 

“Shall we go inside, lovely? Get dibs on the best rooms while these common folk collect our luggage. He extends his arm for you to take, adjusting the sunglasses adorning his face and ignoring the displeased looks of your friends. Stealing a kiss to your temple as he leads you inside. 

“Moony, sweetheart, do be careful with my things. I’ll show you what bed to place them on.”

“Fuck off, Pads.”

“That’s Sir Padfoot, to you.” 

You and Sirius falter, shocked to see an older woman placing the finishings of a homemade meal on the large kitchen table. The inside is even more impressive than the out, but you don’t have much time to appreciate the decorum. Considering you’re engulfed in an oddly familiar embrace. 

“Welcome, welcome!” She beams, holding Sirius’ face and kissing his cheeks with small pinches. 

“How’s my Siri?”

“Alright, mum. Thanks. James didn’t mention you’d be here. Though it’s a very happy surprise.” He looks at the wrinkled, stunning woman that smells of lavender and tea like she’s hung every star in the sky. It’s then you make the obvious connection this is Mrs. Potter. 

“Oh, he doesn’t know either. I’m only here to make sure you’re all settled in and then I’ll be on my way. We haven’t visited here in a while, I wanted to be sure it looked alright for you all.”

“Hard to imagine it ever looks less than gorgeous,” you say without thinking, “thank you for having us. This is lovely.” 

“And so are you, dear. Sirius, tell me this beautiful young girl is with you?” She strokes your hair, and it’s the most comforting touch you’ve likely ever felt. 

“Only in my dreams, unfortunately. Unless dear y/n would like to make a wish come true?” You laugh, swatting away his puckered lips. 

“Y/n? Oh, I’ve been waiting to meet you! Sweetheart, Jamie talks about you so much in his letters!”

“Let’s get waste-Mum!” James drops the bag in hand, yours. Pulling the handle of liquor behind his back in pure shock. “What are you doing here?” 

“Thought I’d have a warm meal waiting for you kids. You must be starving after that drive. Though I’m so happy you did as opposed to powdering here. Shows some responsibility. And Jamie gets so sick sometimes with the powder and all-”

“Mum!” The taller boy repeats, setting the array of luggage in hand down and hiding the bottle behind it. 

“I’m doting, aren’t I? Remmy!”  She stops herself, rushing over to envelop the taller boy in her arms. He, just as Sirius, is absolutely pleased to see her. She goes down the line of girls, putting faces to names and genuinely loving every second of it. James sighs, no genuine distaste in his nature as he observes.

Sirius throws an arm over your shoulder, cheeky as ever. “Mum was just telling us about your letters home.” 

“You’re just as pretty as he said you were. All you girls are so beautiful!” She goes on, blissfully unaware of her beet-red son. 

“She exaggerates.” James scratches his neck, skin burning with embarrassment. 

“Does she?” Siris pulls you closer, basking in your shared humiliation. 

“This food looks wonderful Mrs. Potter. Thank you so much for thinking of us.” Lilly clasps her hands together, rolling her eyes fondly at James’ indebted glance. 

“Call me Euphemia, please. And yes, you all must be starving. Come, fill those bellies with something warm.” You’re in a state of shock as you sit, unaccustomed to such hospitality and genuine kindness. It’s evident where James gets his big heart, undying selflessness. 

The food is amazing, you all go for seconds with a chorus of shared appreciation and compliments. Euphemia beams as she collects her things, pleased to meet the lot of friends her son cares for so deeply. 

“All the beds have fresh sheets, and there’s extra throw blankets in the linen closet. Jamie, your father says go easy on the fire whisky. He’d ask for no drinking, but we all know that’s a long shot. Don’t break anything, and Remmy, keep everyone in check.” The taller boy nods swiftly, no doubt having heard the orders before. James gets up from his seat, kissing his mothers cheek and enveloping her in a hug. 

“Thank you mum, seriously.” She fixes his hair, wiping invisible smudges from his face in a fit of doting. 

“No problem, I’m glad you were all able to make it here. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. All of you.” Theres a quick moment where she meets both you and Sirius’ eyes, the two of you nodding with feigned smiles. Quickly, she kisses both Moony and Padfoot’s heads, stopping for only a moment to caress your cheek with her thumb, a faint sadness in her gaze. Everyone else is enveloped in conversation, passing servings across the table as they would at the Great Hall. 

“You’ll keep an eye on my Jamie, won’t you?” She whispers, touch soothing you with an unknown ease. 

“Of course, though I’m not sure he needs it.” You hold her wrist, somehow not minding the affection whatsoever. 

“So he likes to think. He does, really, speak so fondly of you in his letters. You’re even more lovely than he described.” You want to cry, so overwhelmed with her generosity and love, a maternal energy so strong it’s wiped your mind of any anxieties. 

“Alright, mum. Let the poor girl eat.” James guides her toward the fireplace, while his mother pats his arm and says something to him you don’t quite catch. James’ ears burn bright red, and he nudges her gently so she’ll stop looking over at you. The rest of the group turns toward the fireplace, echoing their farewells and gratuity as she waves. Floo powder enveloping the space around her and sending her off. 

“Does that turn your stomach just looking at it, Jamie?” Marlene mocks, the rest of your laughing through bites of food as he flips her off. 

“Fuck off, the lot of you.” 

“We should start cleaning up.” You suggest, taking your own plate and bringing it to the sink. “This way we can unpack before the sun sets.” Lilly follows, taking her and Dorcas’ plate to you as you begin washing. Sirius groans, grabbing a dish towel from one of the drawers and drying the dishes you hand him. 

“Can’t we just charm the sponges to clean these?”

“Dad had them countered so they can’t be charmed. Said it was supposed to teach me some ‘household responsibility.’” Sirius howls, thoroughly amused.

“I’m just curious about these detailed letters back home.” Remus mutters as he carries his plate past James, dodging his swings and rushing toward the group at the sink for safety. 

*****************

After everyone’s settled in, and you’ve all recovered from the ‘who called what room first’ arguments, there’s an obligatory round of shots. A bin begins to pile high with cans, and you’re all sat around a bonfire atop the Potter’s outdoor furniture. Even the furniture for the backyard looks expensive, so you clutch your drink in hopes not to make any spills. 

You’re buzzed now, skin tingling with an uncommon ease as you lean against the arm of the couch. Sea breeze easing the warm air as the fire pops in front of you. 

“Alright, none of you are drunk enough.” Sirius chastises, shifting in his seat and tossing Lilly another beer. “Never have I ever,” you all groan in half-assed annoyance as the name of the game sounds, “been snitched on by Peeves.” 

You and the rest of the girls take slow, ashamed, sips. The boys all looking over in amazement. 

“We snuck out one time! All I wanted was a bloody butter beer.” Marlene confesses, flushed. James stretches as he approaches, still sore from driving. He passes you his cup, grinning when you cringe at whatever concoction he’s come up with. You move your legs so he can sit beside you, the rest of the couches having been taken. 

“It was a terrible craving, but nonetheless worth the loss of points for Gryffindor.” 

“Is that why we were tied with Ravenclaw mid semester?” Remus laughs over his cup. 

“We still won the cup!” You and Lilly defend, James taking hold of your legs to place them on top of his. He isn’t even thinking about it, too enthralled with the teasing conversation before him as he slides a hand under the cuff of your jeans. Warm hands calloused from quidditch running over your shin. You’ve always found affection with him comes easier than with others, and the touch comforts you, electricity lingering on your skin. 

“Never have I ever, had my first kiss.” Because Dorcas also aims to have the rest of you drinking more, she says what she thinks is the most common proposition. Your stomach turns, and you debate on taking a sip just because it’ll spare you the embarrassment. You must consider it too long, because Sirius’ brows shoot up in shock. 

“Merlin, how?” Is all Sirius manages, the girls’ jaws dropping because you’ve never told them. 

“I volunteer!” Marlene shoots a hand up while you curl into the cushions, wishing you’d just had the drink. 

“It’s not that there haven’t been opportunities.” You struggle through the explanation, tugging on the sleeves of your shirt to fight the cold. “I just, I guess, want the first one to matter. If it’s been this long I may as well make it special.” They all coo in mocking, laughing when you flip them off. 

“I get it.” James pats your leg, taking generous sips of his own drink. 

“You don’t.” Theres an amusement in your tone, no real meanness to any of it. 

“Well what about that Hufflepuff third semester, he was totally into you.” Dorcas inquires. 

“Are we seriously this interested in my love life, or lack thereof?” You roll your eyes when they all agree, giddy from the topic and the alcohol. “I thought he was into me, but I don’t know. We stopped talking after a while.”

“Wait,” Remus narrows his brows, too contemplative to see James’ signals. “That curly haired guy, beater for Huffle?” You nod, giggling because he’s not usually this slow to understanding, clearly inebriated. 

“Wasn’t that the kid that came up to us at Hogsmeade, Prongs?” Potter vehemently shakes his head, chugging his drink again. 

“Nope, I don’t think so.” 

“No, I’m pretty sure it was. You two didn’t get on that well, I think.” Sirius covers his mouth to muffle his laughing, basking in Moony’s drunken confession. 

“You sabotaged me!” You frown, James grabbing your leg so you can’t kick his side. 

“Listen, I overheard him boasting in the locker room. He’s not the type you should be around. Trust me.” He’s sincere, enough to make you relax. 

“He was a bit of an ass, sweetheart. Prongs isn’t entirely wrong.”

“You two are still snog-blocks.” Dorcas is quick at your defense, crossing her arms in solidarity.

“If I wasn’t banished to solitude, I’d kiss you, Dorcas.” 

“Time and place, lovely.” You clutch your heart, feigning a blush in your antics.

*********

“Alright, I need my beauty rest. Someone needs to remain the prettiest of the friend group.” Sirius stretches, tapping a dazed Remus on the cheek to get him up. His actions initiate the turning in of the rest of the group. To which you and James groan. 

“It’s only 2, you’re all lame!” Potter sneers, looking to you for consolation. You nod along, displeased with their departure. 

“You night owls can stay up as long as you want, but we have all week to be sleep deprived.” Marlene ruffles James’ hair and kisses your temple as she stupors inside, giggling all the way with the other girls. 

“And then there were two.” You stretch, moving over when James shifts, moving into a laying position. In order to fit comfortably, you still have to keep your legs over his. “You know, now theres three other open couches.”

“I like it here.” He decides, enclosing his hands over his chest and settling in. You chuckle, letting him tangle his legs in yours. 

It’s confusing, because he chooses you as his passenger, his seat-mate, scares other guys away. Fuck, he planned an entire trip just because you and Sirius have such shitty home lives. Guilt twinges in your chest, and the alcohol allows you to finally say what you’ve been holding in since you first got in the car. “James?” He hums, hazel eyes looking up at the array of stars in the night sky. “Why did you do all this?” Potter sits up, looking over to you in disbelief. 

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t you like it here?”

“Like it? It’s a shore house filled with all of my closest friends and alcohol. I love it here.” He laughs, nudging your legs with his own in teasing. 

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he starts, answering your question with one of his own. “Would you be willing to spend the whole summer here?” 

This time, you sit up, brows raised in shock. “Sorry?” 

“Instead of having to go home, you could stay here.” 

“James, I couldn’t possibly intrude like that-”

“It wouldn’t just be us two.” He unnecessarily reassures. “I’ve already spoke with Pads, and he’s staying. My mum doesn’t want him going home either.”

“You already talked to your parents about it?” 

“In the chance either of you said yes. They both are more than happy to have us stay here. There’s internship positions at my dad’s company, and he said if we looked after the house and helped him out, we’d be more than welcome to stay.” 

“Are you starting a shelter for the broken homes club or something?” You jest, not in poor taste, but because it’s the only defense mechanism you know. James frowns anyway, upset at the thought.

“I care about the both of you. And...I’d never want either of you going home to- Well, anything other than a place you feel safe. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you. Knowing I could have stopped it. Understand?”

You nod, warm tears brimming in your eyes. Because in a world full of people that don’t, James Potter cares. You tackle him in a hug, overcome with the foreign feeling of being cared about, protected. He falters, wrapping an arm around your waist with a small laugh. 

“That’s a yes, then?” You nod, smile pulling at your lips when he uses his thumb to wipe away your tears. 

“James?”

“Yeah?” He’s soft-spoken now, eyes studying yours as you press your hands to his chest. 

“Is there...Any other reason you told that guy to stay away from me?” He swallows, licking his lips with an unusual anxiety to him. He meets your eyes again, pleading for another hint.

“Would you want there to be?”

“I’d like to have my first kiss.” You play with a pull in his sweater, fighting a smile at his nervous demeanor. “Would you want it to be you?” He nods, slow, and honestly unsure if you’re fucking with him. Considering how embarrassed he’d be if this is some joke, or a dream, maybe. “James?” You move closer, and he snaps out of his daze.

“I would.” He averts his eyes to your lips, back to your eyes again to ensure you’re sincere. “Like to kiss you, I mean.” 

You remove the space between you, putting your lips to his and hoping it comes natural like everyone says. It must, because he’s pulling you into his lap, a hint of a whine escaping his throat. You grin, flushing at his eagerness. He squeezes your sides harder, a warning. 

“Stop it.”  He continues past your jaw, down your neck, hearts thrumming with excitement and uncertainty. He tilts your head with his thumb, grinning when he nips at your skin and you gasp. Pulling back, he surveys his work, kissing you two more times before letting you breath. 

Is that what I’ve been missing out on?” You pant, energy coursing through you and accentuating your buzz tenfold.

“Up to expectations?”

“Exceeded, I’m pretty sure.” You blink hard, taking hold of his wrists and moving them so they can slide under the hem of your shirt. You hold them at your waist, a silent sign to keep them there. Though you’re sure he would have anyway. He kisses you again, more intense this time, finally allowing all the pent up tension between the two of you release. 

James, against every fiber of being in his body, pulls you away from him. Both breathing hard to collect yourselves. “While I’d really, really like to keep this up.” He starts, trying not to reconsider when your perfume envelopes his senses. “I’d like to take you out for dinner first. If you’ll let me.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Potter?” You whisper, teasing him as if it’s the hottest gossip to reach Hogwarts. 

“Are you gonna say yes, pretty girl? Or leave me hanging?” You nod, and James throws his head back against the cushions, absolutely relieved. 

*************

You blink awake, fire still burning brightly after being charmed by Lilly earlier in the evening. In the midst of you and James conversation, filled with recalling old times, plans for the rest of the summer, and a lot more alcohol, you both fell asleep. James’ jumper covers your frame, while the boy lays on the other side with only a sweater to keep warm. 

“Prongs.” You nudge him, wincing when he groans. “It’s too cold, let’s go in.”

“Too tired,” he croaks, voice riddled with sleep, “too drunk. Come over on this side.” He rolls on his back, groaning again when the world spins with him. 

“What, like...Next to you?”

“No, curled up on the floor like a cat.” Your brows furrow at his sassiness, fighting a smile as you crawl over. Muttering a half-assed apology when you nearly knee his groin. 

Hesitantly, you place a head on his chest, letting him grab you under one knee and pulling it up so you leg rests over his abdomen. Immediately, he releases a deep breath, fully relaxed. Your body, though, tingles with that same electricity from before, keeping you awake. 

“Sleep.” He orders, nudging the back of your head with his shoulder, eyes closed but somehow aware.

“Can’t.”

“Is this alright?” He blinks awake, afraid he’s made you uncomfortable. 

“Good, this is good.” You reassure, pulling on his jumper so it covers both of you. He pushes your arm away, tugging on the fabric and covering only you again, stern in his actions. 

“Close your eyes. I need us both to sleep this alcohol off so I can kiss you again.”

“Who says I’ll let you, Potter?”

“I may have been your first kiss, but I’m also aiming to be your last. So please, Dove, shut up and sleep” You’re speechless, he’s stunned you with his confession and simultaneous attitude. 

“I hate you.”

“I seriously doubt that.” There’s a smile on his face, you can hear it in his grumbling voice. Wordlessly, he moves the arm that’s under you so he can stroke your cheek, eyebrows, and jaw with the hook of his finger. Knowing the gentle touch will send you off to sleep. And it does, because you don’t wake again until morning. 

********

“Rise and shine, love birds. If you want to hoot with the owls, you’ve got to fly with the eagles.” Sirius chimes, a click of a camera sounding out after he speaks.

“Any louder, Pads, and I’ll break your jaw.” James covers your ears, shielding you from your friends shrill laughter with an intense glare. His head pounds something awful, and he’s pretty sure he’s never been this hungover in his entire life. He remembers every second, though, memories of last night bringing a dopey smile to his face. Despite the alcohols consequences. 

“Hey.” He nudges your arm, ignoring the gawking of his friends through the glass sliding door as he wakes you. You yawn, stretching atop him and regaining sense of your surroundings. 

“Are we supposed to be spinning?” James rolls his eyes, much too fond of you for his own good. 

“We have to get up, theres breakfast.”

“I can’t eat a single thing right now.”

“Yes you can,” he pushes you again, sighing in feigned annoyance when you rub your face into his shirt. Shielding the morning light from your eyes. In one swift movement, he sits you both up and hurls you over his shoulder, ignoring your squirms of protest with an obnoxious yawn. He sets you down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, grumbling a hello to your astonished group of friends. You’re too hungover to feel embarrassed, smiling a thank you to Remus when he slides his glass of orange juice toward you, Sirius’ sunglasses over his eyes. 

“Gimme those,” you plead, extending an arm that’s quickly swatted away.

“Get your own,” he whines, “I let you have my juice.” You accept this, nursing the glass as though it’ll save your life. 

“Late night?” Lilly teases, putting a plate of food in front of you and James. You both groan, but offer your gratitude for breakfast anyway. 

“Figured you would have at least made it inside.” Marlene chastises, amused with your zombie-like states. You frown when James finishes what’s left in your glass, watching as he leans across the counter to grab the carton and refills it. Sirius places a steaming cup of tea in front of you and Potter, avoiding your distrusting gaze as he clears his throat to speak. 

He’s awfully cheeky all the sudden, hoisting himself onto the counter with his signature mischievous grin. “Never have I ever…Had my first kiss?” His voice tilts in questioning at the end, and you’re momentarily displeased with the realization you’ll be spending the rest of the summer with the shit-starting bastard you consider a friend. 

You’re absolutely flushed, curling in on yourself when a chorus of cheers erupts after taking a swift sip from your mug.

[celestial-toys]

That I Would Be Good [1/5]

How to Help

You take note of the two people on this couch with you. These innocent lives you brought into this awful world, with no thought given to the consequences. Stereotyped them down into boxes and expected a perfect fit—naive enough to think you could bring a fantasy to life.

You really want to apologize for falling into the business of playing God.

- - - - - - -

In This Chapter

Moon attempts to care for you as you do a little bedrotting.

The boys debate over taste in entertainment as you cry over work stress.

Much to Sun's chagrin though it all may be, you're saved from a potential night spent sleeping with your dog on the cold, hard hallway floor.

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Reader

Word Count: 5,174

Contains: [AU - Real World] [depiction of depression] [crying] [arguing] [an episode of vertigo] [tension] [fear]

A/Ns: This is a songfic. Lyrics and title are from 'That I Would Be Good' by Alanis Morissette.

This fic is part of my AU “[Not] Made by Design”, the full series can be found here.

Lastly but certainly not least, this fic is dedicated to my friend Adrianna @roses-and-tears, whom I’ve been teasing with the existence of this fic for far too long. Thank you for your patience as I took my sweet time on this, and thank you for your patience with me in general. Your friendship means a lot to me, as does your endless support of my writing. I’m really grateful to have you in my life. Happy Birthday, Adri. 💛

That I would be good even if I did nothing.

Late afternoon sunlight slips through the slim crack between the drawn curtains covering your balcony doors. Over the past hours you’ve absently watched it grow from a bright yellow at noon to a vibrant orange now, the thin line cast across your bedsheets growing longer as the sun slips lower and lower. It serves as the only illumination in the room, all of your various lights and screens turned off in an effort to pretend that it’s an acceptable hour to be miserably curled up in bed, ignoring the world.

The occasional soft, muffled sounds of various housework being done by your—rightfully concerned, you suppose, yet surprisingly concerned, if you’re being honest—partners prevents you from ignoring the entire world, though. The subtle reminder that they’re here with you, that the house isn’t really empty, serves as a comfort that you aren’t sure you deserve. A small part of you wishes you truly were alone again, so at least you’d have a good reason to feel this way. You’d certainly feel less guilty about it too.

To their credit, they’ve handled this episode pretty well. Giving you space when you request it and proximity when you need it. Checking in on you. Keeping you clean, hydrated, and fed to the best of their ability in spite of your reluctance.

You just wish you could pull yourself out of this already.

You have work to do.

The mere thought of all that you’ve fallen behind on has you reaching up, grabbing at the corners of your pillow and tugging them down over your ears, eyes pinching closed in desperate avoidance.

Through the pillow you barely pick up on the muffled sound of soft knocking at your door.

You sigh, and manage a weak acknowledgment. “Yeah?”

Moon’s low voice rumbles through the barrier. “May I come in?”

You cough, clearing your parched throat. “...Yeah.”

The door swings open slowly and you squint, expecting the sting of the bright hallway light to hit, but it never does. You crack an eye open, releasing your hold on the pillow and tilting your head to watch him enter.

Your voice comes out more aggravated than you intend it to sound. “We got a bulb out in the hallway or something?”

Moon pauses halfway through closing the door behind him, his monitor swiveling around to face you. “Hmm?”

You clarify. “The light’s off out there.”

Understanding straightens the scrunched lines on his display that serve as his eyebrows. “Oh, no. The lights are fine, I just…” His monitor swings back around to align with his body as he gently pushes the door closed. “I’ve gathered that it hurts your eyes.”

The door quietly clicks shut and the light of his screen dims, adjusting its brightness to match that of the room. “The contrast, I mean. It being so bright out there when the bedroom is… so dark.”

A look, half-guilt and half-apology tugs at your features as you watch him approach the bed. “I’m sorry…”

His monitor clicks about 20 degrees to the right. “What for?”

His question is spoken so softly, so gently, and if you didn’t know better you’d almost believe that he really can’t think of anything you’d have to apologize to him for.

You know that couldn’t be further from the truth, though.

You’re about to acknowledge his ironic disdain for the darkness, but as you watch him reach down and experimentally lift the still-full bottle of water he refilled for you some odd hours ago, you pause. As his neutral expression curls into a small frown, you realize you should apologize for that, too. Your mind quickly offers up more and more things that you should apologize for, and within seconds your eyes are welling up with tears.

“Everything…” you say as you blink, letting them roll along your temples and—annoyingly—into one of your ears.

His monitor turns halfway toward you, but his false eyes don’t follow the motion, still locked on the bottle of water he’s thoughtfully swirling in his hand. His real eye must take in the state of you though, either that or his mics picked up on the emotion in your voice, because he passes the bottle into his left hand before turning and gesturing down toward the mattress with his right. “May I sit next to you?”

You nod, knowing he can see the motion even in the dim light, and you shift a bit from your dent in the mattress for the first time in… well, probably since Sun poked his proverbial nose in here an hour or two ago to make sure you were still breathing. Begrudgingly, you haul yourself up into a somewhat-vertical position, knowing if you don’t do it now Moon will coax you into it soon anyways. You pull your long sleeve down over your hand and use it to wipe at a few wet tear tracks.

Moon settles himself down on the mattress next to you, gently helping to pull away the sheets just enough to free you from your blanket prison as you halfheartedly reposition yourself. He rests the bottle on his left knee, monitor turning toward his right to face you.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. I think… a lot of the things you apologize for don’t even need one in the first place, and as for the things that do need one… well, you’ve already given them and I— …we’ve already accepted them.”

You sigh. “I wish it were easier for me to believe you.”

His tone has an edge of resignation, or… defeat, in it when he replies. “...So do I, star.”

His simulated breath deepens a bit and in the quiet of the room you hear his cooling system kick down a notch due to his shift into physical inactivity. He passes the water bottle into his right hand, his gaze flicking down toward it and then up to you. “Can you take a sip of this for me, please?”

Now that you’ve actually tried to speak and realized how… gross your mouth feels, you take it from him without reluctance and take not one but several sips, greedily downing it as your body finally recognises its thirst.

Settling the bottle in your lap, you shake your head a bit at his offered hand. “I’ll hold onto it for now… thank you.”

You steal another glance up at his monitor and see a small, unexpected smile and kind crescent eyes. “Of course.”

As his hands fold neatly in his lap, you question him. “Is Sun mad at me?”

His expression fades back into one of concerned confusion. “Why do you think that?”

You shrug and take another sip of your water, downplaying your explanation. “…Dunno. Just feels like that sometimes.” You think for a moment. “I wouldn’t blame him for it if he was. Wouldn’t blame you either.”

Moon’s display swivels side to side on its axis, shaking his head in disagreement. “I don’t think he is. I mean… you know Sun. He’s cold. Not as much as he once was, but still colder than I am, at least. Distant. Quiet. But… I don’t believe that he’s mad.”

He shifts, leaning back against the headboard and stretching his legs out across the length of the bed, crossing them as he releases an imitation of a breath. Angling his screen back toward you, he whispers, “You wanna know what I think?”

You nod, eyes widening in curiosity.

“I think he’s just as worried about you as I am. He just doesn’t know how to show it, or what to even do with such an emotion in the first place.”

You frown, your mind automatically finding yourself at fault. “I—I did my best to train your AIs identically… I don’t—I don’t know what happened with his emotional processing—”

Moon cuts you off, redirecting your attention with a gentle hand on your arm. “That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to blame you. AIs…” his voice and expression both turn playful, “…we’re a dangerous thing. You never truly know how we’re gonna turn out.” He nudges your shoulder with his, and you fight back a tiny laugh.

A comfortable sort of silence falls over the dark room, and you break it with one more quiet question. “…What’s he doing right now?”

“Same thing as Zero is, actually. Sleeping.”

His features dissipate, display changing as he pulls up an image he’d apparently taken of the dog and the bot sprawled across the couch. You huff a laugh at the sight of the two of them attempting to fit together.

“He told me he was up all night, but wouldn’t elaborate on why. So I wasn’t very shocked when he crashed in the living room and asked me to bring him his cable earlier.”

You sigh and look away, half-amused and half-stressed. The image fades, Moon’s default expression taking its place. You take another swig from your bottle before leaning back and to your left, the pillow behind you sliding along the headboard until you’re pressed against Moon’s side. “I wish he wouldn’t strain his battery like that. Gonna have to bring him in for a premature replacement at this rate.”

Moon nods, humming a quiet concurrence as he raises an arm, carefully wrapping it around your shoulders, your silent request for comfort heard loud and clear.

---------------------------

Neither of you ever got an answer as to what had kept Sun up that night. But, if you’d been able to look inside his mind and see his most recent activity, you’d have found a messy assortment of browser tabs, each one’s title containing the keywords “depression” and “how to help.”

That I would be good even if I got the thumbs down.

You’re settled atop Sun’s lap on your too-small couch, back comfortingly pressed against his chest, legs stretching out across the cushions to rest on Moon’s thighs. He’s the only one out of the three of you that’s actually sitting on the couch properly, Sun instead opting for his usual lengthwise position, one arm draped along the back of the couch and the other wrapped around your waist.

One advantage of his mechanical body is that he can keep his head twisted 90 degrees to the left, facing the TV for as long as he’d like and never know the pain of a sore neck.

He seems just as invested in what’s on the TV as Moon is, and if the repetitive shifts in lighting and audio are anything to go by, you’re willing to bet they’re having another silent argument over what to watch. Too absorbed in the game on your phone to be bothered by the inconsistent ambiance, you brush aside the stray thought to remind them that they could each just watch their own show in their HUDs instead of fighting over the big screen. Their strange insistence on adhering to the “human” way of doing things is something for you to psychoanalyze another time.

You half-listen to the TV as it switches back and forth between what sounds like BBC Earth, and The (ironically named) Learning Channel, taking note of the way Sun’s body warms. His cooling system audibly kicks in, and the creator in you takes immediate notice, the attention to your phone waning as your concern over Sun’s internal temperature rises.

You pause your game, pulling in a breath as you prepare to interject on whatever silent argument is getting him so heated, but they beat you to the punch, their internal exchange suddenly becoming external.

“—Because we’ve seen it before! I already know everything I could possibly need to know about crabs!” Moon’s voice cuts through the background noise and you flinch a bit at its sudden volume.

Sun’s curled fingers splay out flat across your stomach, apparently trying to calm you and argue with Moon at the same time. “It’s not about knowledge! It’s about the implications! The metaphor!”

Moon’s monitor pivots away from the TV and over to Sun, his volume lowering a bit as his optics pass over your form curled against Sun. “What implications?”

You twist around a bit to get a glance at the screen when the narrator says something that catches your ear.

“Our spy becomes the crab's defender.”

The three of you turn and watch as a robotic imitation of a crab serves as a mechanical wall of defense between a vulnerable, soft shelled crab and a hungry stingray.

You feel Sun’s arm tighten around you.

Confused and unimpressed, Moon turns back toward his solar counterpart. “Mhm, that’s lovely, Sun, but what does it have to do with us?”

Sun’s volume drops as you feel his body mimic a sigh. “More than your stupid ‘Thousand Coupons and Counting’ show does, that’s for sure…”

You feel your phone buzz in your hand, the darkened screen lighting up once again and drawing your attention away from Moon’s rebuttal.

“Oh, come on, that’s not even the name...”

Their petty quarrel quickly becomes background noise as your focus zeroes in on the message preview in your notifications.

[ Hey, sorry to bother you at such an hour, but I finally had time to relay your most recent proposed alterations to the client’s requested design… ]

Your stomach drops as you tap to open the message and are met with a bullet point list of complaints and questions relayed from the client through one of your colleagues. You’re grateful that your team has a dedicated customer relations department because if you had to communicate with this particular client directly, you may be out of a job.

Your mood quickly grows sour and defeated as you scan over the list of criticisms, your colleague’s addition of a sympathetic [😕] at the end of their message doing little to soften the blow. You’ve spent countless hours trying to find work-arounds and alternatives to this client's unrealistic requests, the head of your team insistent that you find a way to please them lest you cost the company a “substantial potential profit.”

Clenching your jaw, you fight to keep a level head. You fight the urge to type out a hasty response, one you know would be full of childish, whining complaints about the inconvenient timing and the client’s unrealistic demands. You then fight the subsequent urge to just turn your phone off, and maybe hurl it through a window for good measure.

“Why would we need to know that? When will we ever need to afford fifteen 2-liters of Mountain Dew and ten jugs of Tide on a tight budget?! Who shops like that?!” Sun’s rapidly rising voice is enough to finally break through your swirling thoughts. The sound of your boys arguing, as ridiculous as the topic may be, only adds fuel to your emotional fire.

You fight the urge to cry, and you fail.

Clicking your phone screen off, you curl further in on yourself and press your temple against the back cushion of the couch. Moon’s voice dies down halfway through his retort, his attention quickly drawn to your sudden display of emotion. Sun’s focus falls on you at the same time, his sensors instantly picking up on the shift in your breathing and increase in your heart rate.

Moon’s body shifts, turning toward you and leaning closer as the hand he’d had resting on your knee begins to pet up and down the length of your shin in a gentle bid for your attention.

Sun aggressively whispers to Moon as the hand he’d had resting on the back of the couch comes down to hover anxiously over your head. “You idiot, look what you did!”

Moon mirrors his hushed tone. “What I did? You’re the one being unreasonable!”

You shake your head and clear your throat before cutting in. “This isn’t… about that.”

Sun’s hand comes down to awkwardly pet down your hair as you lean away from where you’d head-butted the couch cushion. “What… is this about then? What upset you?”

You turn your head, pressing your chin against your shoulder to dry the tears that had trailed down and converged there. You internally debate over how to explain yourself before giving up shortly after, opting instead to silently pull the message back up on your phone and hand the thing to Sun for him to read.

He takes in the message’s contents with typical robotic speed before handing the phone over to Moon, an unreadable expression on his display. Moon scrolls back up, reading the list of complaints and releasing a sigh as he hands the phone back to you. “They’re being unreasonable.”

You nod in agreement, releasing a sigh of your own. “Can’t tell ‘em that, though.”

Your words hang in the air as a contemplative silence falls over the room, and it’s then that you idly note that one of them must have muted the TV at some point. With their debate over taste in entertainment quickly drawn to a close, you suddenly feel guilty. “I’m sorry…”

“What for?” Sun’s voice questions over your shoulder.

“Ruining another evening…”

Moon scoffs, his retort lighthearted with a dose of rare sarcasm. “Oh, of course! How dare you interrupt our ‘important’ television debate with your silly little real-world problems.”

You glance at him, cracking a small smile, but it doesn’t last. Sighing, you lean further back into Sun, letting your head fall back until it’s resting on his shoulder. From the corner of your periphery, you see his head pull back and tilt down to get a better look at you.

“It’s not even just this one client, it’s… I mean- it is, but… fighting over what is and isn’t possible… nowadays it just reminds me of how I fought with the team over your designs. Reminds me of all the ways that I let you down. All the ways I failed you.”

You watch a frown form on Moon’s display, and you’re about to apologize for dredging up the past again, but Sun’s hands are quick to distract you. Reaching down and around you, he takes the phone from your hand, moving slowly enough to give you time to resist his attempts should you choose to. Meeting no resistance, he cradles the phone in your lap, and watching over your shoulder, opens the message once again and begins typing out a response.

[ Please remind them that while we are always eager to please, there are certain limitations to what sorts of ideas we can bring to life. Link them to our Product Design FAQ page if you haven’t already. I’ll review their comments and look into potential alterations first thing Monday morning, when our business hours resume. Thank you. ]

Moon’s curiosity got the best of him, leaning across the length of the couch to get an upside-down look at the phone screen. Rotating his faceplate 180 degrees, he hums in approval before leaning back, head slowly completing a 360 and righting itself once again.

Sun’s thumbs pull away from the keyboard and he requests your approval in a low voice. “That sound good?”

You want to ask him why he’s helping you. You want to ask Moon why he isn’t mad. You want to ask them why you’re even still employed, why you even deserve the job you’re apparently so bad at. You want to apologize for everything under the sun.

You take note of the two people on this couch with you. These innocent lives you brought into this awful world, with no thought given to the consequences. Stereotyped them down into boxes and expected a perfect fit—naive enough to think you could bring a fantasy to life.

You really want to apologize for falling into the business of playing God.

But you don’t. You re-read the message and let out a soft, resigned sigh, nodding. “Better than any response I’d be able to come up with tonight. Thank you.”

You raise a hand, tapping the send button, and then watch as Sun puts your phone on do not disturb before clicking it off once more. You point to the coffee table and he places it there, and Moon reaches for the TV remote at the same time. As you quietly readjust yourself in Sun’s hold, Moon offers you the remote with a soft question. “What would you like to watch?”

That I would be good if I got and stayed sick.

Flicking the light off, you make your way out of the bathroom and down the hall. Zero trails directly behind you, the dog insistent as always that you be accompanied on the long, arduous journey from the bedroom to the bathroom and back.

Perhaps, this time she could sense something that you couldn’t, because no more than a few steps into your short trip back, something quickly begins to feel… off. Closing your eyes and coming to a halt in the middle of the hall, you feel your stomach drop as you register the dreaded, familiar feeling of the world starting to spin around you.

Attempting a deep breath, you open your eyes and immediately regret it, disoriented and beginning to grow a bit panicked at how quickly this came over you. Muttering a soft “fuck… not again…” you reach out, placing a hand on the wall in an attempt to steady yourself. You try to at least make it back to the bedroom, but a terribly familiar hint of nausea makes itself known, and you suddenly aren’t sure if you should try for the bedroom or the bathroom.

Your body ends up deciding for you, a wave of lightheadedness teaming up with the dizzying sensation and quickly convincing you that taking a seat right where you are isn’t such a bad idea. As you slowly slide down the wall, butt thumping against the floor, you shakily call out. “Guys?”

Within five seconds, two round screens with wide digital eyes peek out from the bedroom’s open doorway. Stumbling over one another to get out of the room as soon as they see you on the floor, they question you in tandem. “What happened?!”

Clearing the short distance in a few strides to reach you, they both crouch down, one on each of your sides, Zero nervously pacing back and forth between them.

“I… I don’t know. It just hit me again out of nowhere.”

Moon’s faceplate clicks back and forth rapidly, a few degrees to the right, then a few degrees to the left. You close your eyes again, unable to look at him for long. You don’t have it in you to tell him that the motion itself is a dizzying sight. Sun seems to gather as much from his quiet observation, reaching out and roughly pinching the edge of Moon’s display, bringing the lunar bot’s anxious fidgeting to an abrupt halt.

“Vertigo?” Sun wastes no time in getting straight to the point, as usual.

You press your head back against the wall with a quiet groan. “Uhuh.”

“Can you tell us what—exactly—you’re feeling right now?” Moon questions you softly as he subtly struggles to pry Sun’s iron grip off of his head.

“Uhh… dizzy… lightheaded… getting kinda nauseous…”

Sun’s hand gravitates toward its favorite spot—that being around your neck—and since you don’t see it coming, you flinch.

He sighs, thumb finding its home on your pulse. “…It’s just me. You should know by now that I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You huff a humorless laugh in spite of your current state. “Yeah, well, I should know a lotta things by now.”

Sun doesn’t humor you with a snarky response, too focused on the current matter at hand. “Your pulse is pounding. Fast.” He’s quiet for a beat before tacking on a question. “Do you not feel it?”

You scoff. “Of course I do, Sun. I’m just used to it. It’s just doing that ‘cause I’m…” you hesitate, but honesty slips out of you rather easily in this state, “...scared.”

Concern seeps into his voice. “Of me?”

This time there’s a bit of humor in the laugh that he draws out of you. “No, Sunny… not you. Not this time.” You press the heels of your hands into the floor, searching for something grounding. “...It’s this. I’m scared of this. Whatever’s happening to me.”

Moon chimes in. “It’s gonna pass. It always does.” He places a hand on your knee. “And we’re right here. Gonna help you through it, just like always.”

You dare to crack your eyes open again, and find his screen blessedly still, light dim. “Still scares me though… don’t know why it’s happening.”

Sun retracts his hand from your neck. “We’ll figure it out. First priority is getting you situated somewhere more suitable. Do you want to go back to bed?”

You mull it over, wishing your nausea would decide to either get worse or get gone already so you could make up your mind. “I… wanna get back in bed, but… I don’t know if this nausea is gonna get worse or not.”

Sun almost shakes his head, but stops just short of it, not wanting to mirror Moon and make things worse. “You know we have a bucket dedicated to solving that very problem, so you can cross that off of your list of concerns. Besides, if it gets worse and you change your mind, we can always take you to the bathroom, easily.”

Sighing, you allow his reasoning to override your anxious, indecisive mind. “Yeah… okay. That’s fine by me, as long as you’re sure you don’t mind.”

Moon answers for both of them. “Of course we don’t.”

Sun leans back on his heels. “If that was the only thing keeping you, then why don’t we move this to the bedroom?”

In spite of your current state, you can’t help but crack a smile, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him. “Goodness, Mr. Sun. Too eager to even buy me dinner first?”

It takes the solar bot a moment to process the implications of your words, but the way the concerned expression on his face swaps to an empty black screen is enough to tell you that he got the joke—and that perhaps—he didn’t like it.

His voice comes out deadpan as he suddenly stands, distancing himself from you in more ways than one. “Ha-ha, very funny. If you’re feeling well enough to joke around then perhaps you don’t need my help after all.”

Moon grabs ahold of Sun’s ankle as he attempts to walk away, mirroring the iron grip the solar bot had recently had on him. “Come on, Sunny, don’t be like that…”

Sun gives a sharp tug on his leg, but Moon’s grip doesn’t relent. Even without a face nor a voice, you can still sense him silently telling Moon to not test him. You know better than almost anybody that their physical strength is perfectly matched to one another. They could stay locked in a stalemate until their batteries died if either of them truly desired it.

As amusing as it may be to push Sun’s buttons, even you know when something’s about to go too far, so you make the call to break it up. “Ah, let him go, Moon. He’s put up with enough of my shit for one night.”

Moon releases his counterpart, and Sun mutters a quiet “That’s right.” beneath his breath, striding back into the bedroom.

Zero yawns into a whine.

You shakily reach a hand up to pet her and she bends down, slipping her head beneath it. Your voice is something close to jaded when you address the quiet lunar automaton still crouched beside you. “Well, now that I’ve successfully put everyone in a bad mood, I suppose it’s time for bed, huh?”

He’s his usual understanding self when he replies. “I know it wasn’t intentional, star.”

“Yeah, but… I know he’s sensitive. Should really get around to repairing that brain-to-mouth filter of mine one of these days…” You trail off, making an effort to stand, and regret it quite quickly as the world starts to spin again.

Moon’s hands brace you instantly, and a soft request fills your ears as you clamp your eyes shut again. “Let me carry you instead?”

“...Please.”

“Of course.”

The three of you make your way back to bed, and in spite of Sun’s previous statement implying he wouldn’t help you, you notice the way the room is already prepared for you. Bed sheets straightened, pillows situated, lights dimmed as low as they can go. The movie you’d paused is no longer waiting on the TV screen, the device having been fully turned off, and you know that Sun must’ve read somewhere that bright, flashing, moving images on screens can make your symptoms worse. (Who’d’ve guessed.)

He slips back out of your closet as Moon places you down in the center of the mattress, your just-in-case bucket dangling from his hand. His hands settle on his hips after he places it down near the nightstand, still-blacked-out monitor swinging slowly, surveying the room.

“Last time this happened, crackers and water seemed to take the edge off. Would you like to try that again? Do you think you can stomach it?”

He doesn’t mention his (over)reaction in the hallway, and you elect to drop it too.

“I… yeah. Guess I’ll try anything that might help.”

He’s out of the door and off to the kitchen immediately, and back with both items in hand by the time Moon gets you both settled in bed. Moon holds your water and you take the crackers as Sun takes his seat on the other side of you, Zero curling up at your feet. Your shaky hands fiddle with the packaging for a moment before black and yellow segmented fingers hover over your own. You pause, and Sun makes quick, silent work of parting the wrapper. You offer up a quiet “...thanks…” that receives no verbal reply.

A few crackers and a quarter cup of water later, you’re relieved to find your symptoms beginning to ease. It’s no magical cure, but you feel more stable than you did on your own out in the hallway, where you honestly might’ve slept had you been left to your own devices.

Two of Moon’s fingers press against your inner wrist. “Hmm… better, but not back to baseline. Are you still scared?”

You’re quiet for a minute, trying to search for the source of your fear. “Scared… that this is gonna keep happening at random, forever.”

Moon is quick to reassure you. “I’m confident that we’ll work out the root cause of these episodes one day.”

You mumble defeatedly through a mouthful of chewed cracker. “I sure fuckin’ hope so.”

Of course, it’s only once you’re content to let silence fall over the room that Sun speaks.

“You don’t need to fear it regardless. Even if this is with you forever. Because…” he releases a sigh, full of reluctance, but finishes his sentence nonetheless, “...it’s not like we’re going anywhere either.”

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I'll be back tomorrow with part 2! You can also find my notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. Links to the playlist and moodboard for [N]MbD can be found on this blog’s pinned post, as well as in the series notes on Ao3. Header Image Sources: x - x - x

[anianurst]

can we have a mini series for the sun and the moon ??? :(

Summary: if you were the moon, Yuji the sun, Megumi the stars, then Satoru was like the earth

A/n: hi anon! hope you like this small conti of my first post. maybe if I can think of another part I'll make a pt 3. this actually turned out to be heavier angst than what I was originally planning (I apologize in advance) I'll say it again: major spoilers for JJK that won't be covered by the anime (yet. probably season 3)

Warning(s): spoilers for the second season (the start of the Shibuya arc), as well as manga chapters 136+, mental breakdown(on readers part ig), megumi's unrequited feelings brought up again, misdirected anger and all-around messy feelings

A lunar eclipse happens when the Earth moves between the Sun and the Moon. As the Moon orbits, it falls into the Earth's shadow, which causes it to temporarily darken or change colors.

'How did all of this happen?' you think to yourself. There's a stillness in the air as you hug your knees closer to your body, trying to hide from the cruel and unforgiving world.

People mindlessly stand around you, an after-effect of being hit by Satoru's domain expansion. Their eyes roll into the back of their heads, and grumbles of nothing slip past their lips. But, you don't pay any mind to them. Not when you're trying to soak up the residues of Satoru's cursed technique, the last things left of him.

The crater left by Satoru seems to keep you tied to the ground. The scatterbrained people, spilled blood, dead, twisted corpses left behind by that patch-face curse, and the insurmountable damage don't mean anything to you. Not when Satoru's been ripped out of your life.

".....!......"

".....y.....!"

"...y/...!...."

"...y/n-chan...!"

You lift your head, eyes blank and body feeling so heavy, to see Iori. Her shoulders rise and fall as heavy breaths escape her, and you wonder where she came from. Her hair's disheveled, a good representation of the shit show that just went down in Shibuya.

Her mouth moves as she speaks, but nothing seems to be heard. Her hand touches the side of your head, and it's covered in red when she pulls back. Oh, so that's why you can't hear very well; you probably had some severe head damage.

The next couple of moments pass in a flash as you let her pull your body up from the ground and out of that forsaken train station. Everything's hazy as your eyes take in the damage down to the city: buildings destroyed, ash basically covering every, blood that's seemed to dry up and turned an ugly brownish-red, and bodies littering the ground.

"y/n!" Yuji says, his voice full of relief as he rushes towards you. His hands quickly come up to cradle your face as he inspects the new scar underneath your right eye. His eyes shine with a bright reassurance at the fact that you weren't killed in Shibuya. It doesn't take long for his oh-so-bright smile to reach his face as he quickly wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your hair to seek comfort.

Megumi stands some ways back as he watches Yuji gush all over you. A heavy pain fills his heart, but it's quickly replaced with relief that you're okay. He steps towards you, and places a hand on your head and says a quiet welcome to you.

You'd break down right about now if it weren't for the fact that your eyes land on a tall, blonde woman seated on the couch. Yuji and Megumi are pushed away in a blur as you quickly grab Yuki by her collar.

A nasty sneer makes it to your face as you glare at her. A destructive aura surrounds you as a vein pops out from your neck. As quick as you were to move, the others in the room swiftly tried to de-escalate the situation.

"y/n! Calm down! She's here to help us!" Yuji says, his hand coming to place itself on your shoulder.

"Help us? Where the fuck was she when all of your friends were dying, huh?" you spit back, eyes never leaving Yuki's as her face turned blank. "Where the fuck were you?" you repeat. "You're a goddamn special grade sorcerer, and yet the only time you fucking show up is after everyone's dead? You fucking slacker."

Your words cause a heavy shift in the room as everyone listens to your tear into Yuki. They all know it's not her who you're mad at, but it's easier to let you lay all your anger into her.

"We're going to go see Tengen-sama," is all she says as she removes your hand from her shirt, quickly rising to her feet and being the first one to leave the basement where you've all sought shelter.

Yuta (ever the good upperclassman) takes a soft step towards you as he ruffles your hair. "I know it's tough, y/n-chan," he tries to comfort.

But instead of thanks in return, all he gets is a scoff of disgust as you turn to look at him with an indescribable look in your eyes. With a suffocating gaze, you move to follow after Yuki. "The only thing she can do for now is give herself up as tribute when it's time for someone else to die," is all you say, your back facing everyone.

'No! No! No!' is all Yuji thinks as he watches you walk out of the basement. This cruel world can't take away your soft smiles from him. Your kind eyes, warm embrace, and ever-radiant warmness! You are supposed to be his shining moon that he looks to for solace, a safe place where he doesn't have to carry the burdens he's been cursed with.

He's stuck in place before Megumi knocks his arm with his elbow and tells him to follow. With a grave heart, he obeys, hoping (no, praying) that this is just a phase, and you'll go back to the girl he loves.

[calqlate]

RE: LOVE & LIFE | FOUR

— WHERE THE LILY SLEEPS

SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

PAIRING(S): zhongli x f! reader + diluc x f! wife! reader

SUMMARY: As the wife of the famous big shot in the wine industry, you have everything you could ever ask for — a beautiful mansion, endless wealth, servants at your beck and call... However, you lack the one thing you yearn for: love. With your beloved husband neglecting you and being stuck in a loveless marriage, you decide to end it all, only to be stopped by a man whom you have never met before, and who also coincidentally happens to be your soulmate. In addition, there just might seem to be more than what meets the eye in regards to your peculiar soulmate, and you just might have to find that out for yourself.

TAGLIST (italicised blogs are unable to be tagged, pls dm me with your updated username): @crescentmoonnn + @deeomi + @esthelily + @holaseniorahoe + @loving-august + @mshope16 + @needsleep3000 + @nerdiel-has-no-braincells + @saintbernardthethird + @seyboo + @thelonelyarchon

A/N: apologies for the wait, school has been a pain in the butt (and grad school applications have been insane). here's the new chapter!

Upon reaching the entrance of Wangshu Hotel, you turned to face Zhongli and bowed, “Thank you for accompanying me, Mr. Zhongli. I appreciate it.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Zhongli mirrored you and returned the bow, a small smile on his face.

There was a moment of comfortable silence as you made eye contact with Zhongli. With the way the sun was setting slightly in the distance, the sun’s rays were angled in such a manner whereby Zhongli was seemingly casted in a golden halo, making him seem ethereal. Otherworldly, even. Somehow, that particular moment looked immensely picturesque, yet hauntingly familiar.

“You have been staring at me for some time,” Zhongli’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you blinked, “Is there perhaps something on my face?”

“No, no, not at all!” you shook your head and smiled, “I just thought that you looked wonderful in the light.”

Zhongli stared at you, unblinking. Neither him nor you were speaking, and the weight of your earlier sentence settled over you. Oh, Archons, I just blurted whatever I had on my mind without thinking again, didn’t I?

Your face flushed bright red in embarrassment as you choked out, “I’m sorry! I have a tendency to speak freely sometimes.”

To your surprise, Zhongli chuckled as his eyes crinkled into little crescent moons, “There is no need to feel ashamed. It’s quite a refreshing habit you have.”

“That’s a really polite excuse,” you groaned as you smacked yourself inwardly. You really needed to stop being so loose-lipped. You nodded your head in the direction of the hotel as you spoke, “I should head back now.”

“I hope you rest well tonight,” Zhongli said as he clasped his hands behind his back with a nod.

“Goodbye, Mr. Zhongli,” you said as you raised your hand up for a wave before turning around to head back into the hotel.

Zhongli watched your figure retreat into the hotel. Only did he see you get past the double glass doors and were safely tucked into the premises then he finally made his own trip back to the funeral parlour.

(Knowing how nosy his boss could be, Celestia forbid her from badgering him for his whereabouts.)

While drying your hair with a towel, you sat down in front of the little dressing table and pulled the little trinket you had received earlier in the day out of its paper bag. It was a fazhan hairpin made out of jade, adorned with Glaze Lillies crafted from minerals on one end of it.

The moment you laid your eyes on the hairpin, something stirred in your heart. You furrowed your brows together as you picked it up gently, cradling it in your palms. This hairpin seemed... familiar, somehow, but you could not understand why. It was your first time laying eyes on it, and you had never chanced upon hairpins with a similar design before.

“Ma’am! I’ve found something!” you called Madam Ping over.

The old woman walked over and eyed the accessory in your hands before her eyes widened for a fragment of a second. Before you could ask her what was wrong, she smiled gently at you, “Wonderful choice, child.” A pause, then she asked, “Do you like it?”

“It is beautiful,” you said as you stared at the hairpin, a smile spreading across your lips. Waves of nostalgia surged in your veins, tinged with... sadness? Melancholy? You could not quite place a finger on the name of the emotion that was filling you.

“This hairpin has finally found its owner,” Madam Ping smiled, “I hope you will create beautiful memories with it this time.”

You nodded, taking her cryptic message as a passing remark, “I will.”

You rolled the hairpin back and forth between your fingers, the dim lighting of your hotel suite reflecting off the Glaze Lilly decorations in a sparkly manner. A part of you could not bear to wear it; you wanted to keep it in a glass box and immortalise it as a souvenir from your trip. However, an innate part of you was insisting that you should not do that, and instead wear it out as intended.

Carefully, you set it down on the dressing table, I’ll wear it out tomorrow.

You were standing in an expansive field full of Glaze Lillies. No matter how far you walked, it seemed like there was no end to this particular flower field. You walked leisurely, admiring the endless sea of flowers surrounding you.

You halted your footsteps, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath in. The air was fresh and the fragrant scent of the flowers permeated in the air.

You opened your eyes, drinking the scenery in. This entire place was picturesque, as if you had stepped right into a painting. If only your husband were here—

“There you are.”

You turned around at the sound of a voice, your eyes settling on the figure of a man approaching you. The man was dressed in a long, dark brown robe dotted with golden accents, his head partially blurred out due to the sunlight obstructing your view as well as the distance between the both of you. Despite not being able to discern his countenance properly, you could instinctively tell that this man was the one your heart was beating so ardently for: your husband.

However, as the distance between both of you grew smaller, the sunlight started framing his face in a better angle and his features grew all the more clearer: straight, dark hair with gold tips and a matching pair of eyes set on a handsome face, with skin so fair it could rival that of the colour of a Glaze Lily’s petals. It was not Diluc; it was the funeral parlour consultant, Zhongli.

While he was not who you were expecting, your lips curled upward into a smile as if it were second nature to you. You could feel the warmth in your chest overflow you and fill every vein in your body, with every cell in your body having an affectionate reaction to this man. You opened your mouth to call out his name, but not a single word came out: your mouth was indeed moving, but your voice was completely muted, as if someone had muted the audio function on a video.

“What were you thinking about so intently?” Zhongli asked as he stood next to you, hands clasped behind his back.

“The war,” you answered as your smile dropped considerably at the thought of the heavy topic, then averted your gaze to the side, “Just... I wish that it didn’t have to reach this point.”

Zhongli’s smile took a bittersweet edge to it, “There is no need to worry. Just think of this war as one to quell some... social unrest.”

You snorted, “That’s a really polite way of putting it. What would the other adepti think?”

“I am sure they would agree and give similar remarks of their own,” he responded. There was a brief pause as his gaze softened, “After this is all over, may I ask you to accompany me for some tea?”

You turned your head and met his gaze: it was warm, sincere, and full of affection — a look that would not be given to mere acquaintances. In addition, his tone of voice felt as though there was something he wanted to tell you. Something deeper and perhaps even more intimate. If it were up to you, you would have asked him to spill the beans there and then, but given the situation of the aforementioned war (which you had very little idea about), you concluded that you would wait. Once everything wad over, you would sit him down and ask him to confide in you and confess everything to you.

You could only smile and nod, “Of course. You know I’d never pass up tea from the one and only—”

You tried verbalising his name out loud again, but your voice was seemingly robbed from you once more. However, it seemed that he did hear you say his name: Zhongli’s response was a simple hum, and both of you turned to admire the sea of Glaze Lillies in comfortable silence.

When the morning came, you awoke with your eyes feeling heavier than ever, as if you had cried for a long time. You raised your hand to your cheeks, feeling damp skin beneath your fingertips. Your fingers glided higher towards the base of your eyes. With one quick swipe, you felt moisture on your skin. Was I crying in my sleep?

At that moment, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You reached out and grabbed it, seeing a notification pop up, reading that a bank transfer had been made to your account. You unlocked your phone to check the deposit, which your bank app read, “Incoming bank transfer from Diluc Ragnvindr”, and below it was a string of numerical digits. A text message soon popped up from your husband, which read, “Have fun in Liyue”.

You frowned. You were rudely reminded of this particular trait of your husband which you detested: sending you money instead of checking in on you or spending time with you. You scoffed, Does he really believe that quality time can be bought with money?

Whatever the case may be, you refused to use his money. No, not when it was a cheap means to placate you. Husband be damned; you were going to spend your own money and have fun on your own in this foreign country.

You eyed the hairpin glittering from its spot on the dresser and grinned. The first thing on the agenda would be accomplished with the accessory.

[thus-spoke-lo]

cw: gn!reader. self-ship coded. wc: 900

It’s a clear night, the first one in days, the snowfall finally pausing as if by command as the sun began to set. Here in the elevation of the coliseum, waiting in the cold, it’s quiet, the revelry below a hum that vibrates in your chest. The city is raucous, citizens gathering in the streets and filling every cobblestone walkway, a cacophony of music and singing and drunken revelry as the clock nears midnight. It’s warming to hear them like this, and if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine your childhood village, the same sounds of love and celebration and hope for something greater echoing through the town.

You lean over the balcony and fiddle with the ring on your finger, watch it glint in the light of the waning moon; it’s heavy with metal and stone and the weight of secrets and promises. It would be the greatest wedding the New World had ever seen, Doflamingo assured you as your cheeks burned and your eyes welled and something twisted pleasantly inside your chest as he presented it to you weeks ago. You’d be the people’s queen of Dressrosa, hanging from the arm of a warlord as you garnered goodwill from the citizens, kept safe from the cruel world that lies beyond these borders, if only you’d say yes—as if you had any mind to refuse. You can’t help but wonder if the crowd below will cheer as loud for you and their king as they are for the beginning of a new year.

The sharp clack of expensive loafers and the loud rustle of feathers pull you from your musings, and you turn to see Doflamingo emerging from the darkness of the stone hallway, two bottles of wine held in one hand, in the other a glass that appears amusingly small in his grip. The grin stretched across his lips is sincere, but something else colors his expression as he approaches you and sets the wine on the ground.

“I apologize for my lateness, little bird,” he coos, bending at the waist to kiss you on the top of your head. “I had a last-minute problem that needed to be dealt with.”

You cock your head, reaching out a hand to stroke the reddened knuckles of his right hand. “Is everything alright?”

He smiles down at you, softening, his posture loosening. “I’d rather not ruin our evening.”

He sits in the throne-like chair meant for him and only him, settling against the plush fabric, and pulls you into his lap without another word; you know better than to ask any more questions and instead take his injured hand in both of yours and plant soft kisses along his irritated skin, a show of devotion. He hums contentedly You instinctively take the wine and pour a glass for yourself, handing the bottle back to him for his portion.

“I’m glad it cleared up tonight,” you mutter as you lean against him, closing your eyes as his long fingers gently stroke the side of your face. You turn and kiss his palm, his skin warm against your lips.

“I couldn’t disappoint my queen, could I?” His hand slides down your body and settles at your waist, snaking his arm around you, his fingers digging into your softness, kneading your side absentmindedly, seeming to stop himself from letting his hand wander lower. “And the people would have rioted if they couldn’t have their little show.”

“You’re so giving,” you chuckle.

Doflamingo doesn’t respond, only laughs low and quiet and pulls you tighter against him; you half-expect to feel the sharpness of his strings around you for your little jab, but he seems to be in a generous mood. He pours you your glass of wine and keeps the bottle for himself, clinking the neck against the rim of your goblet before gulping it down as you sip at yours. It’s tempting to make a toast—to him, to the two of you, to power and control, to loyalty and obedience—but the comfortable silence means more to you than ritual.

It’s almost peaceful here above the city, just you and him and the warmth of something that feels like love wrapped around you. Soon, bright lights explode over Dressrosa, and the crowd below cheers and shouts as neon pinks and blues and greens illuminate the skies, thunderous booms rattling your ribs. The wine warms your cheeks and you cling to Doflamingo even more; he guides your head to his chest and he covers your exposed ear, his own act of silent devotion.

“It’s a new year, little bird,” he grins as the fireworks end and the sky turns hazy, the stars veiled in sulfuric smoke. He tilts your head back and seems to examine you for a moment, reading the lines around your mouth, the crinkles of your eyes as you smile back. And he kisses you—softly at first, wine-scented tongue delicately tracing your lips, then with ardor and urgency, with a hunger that he’ll never satiate no matter how many times his mouth claims yours. “What do you want in the year ahead, hm?”

“You.” The words are soft, almost exhaled into his mouth, as you try to catch your breath. “Only you.”

He grins against your lips, a deep laugh rumbling in his chest; the hand at your waist starts to wander lower. “Then let’s start off the new year with a bang.”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

A Song of heart and blood - part four | Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: After an horrible prophetical dream, you find yourself traveling through time to try and save your sister, Daenerys, from her fatal ascension to the Iron Throne. During your mission, your heart derives you from your duty and you fall in love with your ancestor

Word count: 1.9k

masterpost

A/N: Some chapters are shorter than others and that’s okay

-

Sailing across the Narrow Sea — to Pentos — took five days. During these five days, you were confined under the ship's deck between crates of grains. It wasn't the most comfortable — your body was aching from sitting and sleeping on the wooden floor for so long —, but at least it wasn't sheeps. Albeith cute, they are animals and their shit stinks. When you are stuck in a small space, you don't want to be surrounded by sheep piss and shit.

Once in Pentos, you headed south — to Volantis. It was a long and lonesome journey.

When you found yourself in front of the stones, you pulled out the grimoire from your travel pouch and, fingertips away from returning where you belonged, you froze. Memories of your sister flowed in your head, missing her terribly, then faded to another pair of violet eyes. Daemon’s. The night you met him in the city, all those nights spent together, the taste of his lips on yours and the feeling of his touch.

You reached for your necklace, ‘’Sorry, Dany,’’ then retracted your hand.

*

The journey back to King’s Landing was even longer, but once you made it to land, you found yourself facing a wall. Where were you going to go? What were you going to do? You doubted Otto had abandoned his investigation while you were away. Your absence in the city must have been notified to him too. Whoever was working for him would immediately report your presence if seen.

For this reason, you needed to remain on your guard and keep an eye out at all times.

Covering yourself with your hooded cloak, you wandered around the city through the smallfolk, trying to think of your next move. Unfortunately, no answers came to you.

The sun began going down and your stomach was rumbling and clenching. You were tempted to steal some bread off a table to calm your hunger, having not eaten since yesterday morning, but the man who was selling it looked strong enough to break your arm if caught. So you continued your way, looking for something easier to steal.

After taking three left turns, you noticed a figure in a white cloak was following you. A woman. Her face was familiar, but you couldn't recognize where you knew her from. Was she Otto's spy? There was no way to tell, but in case she was, you had to get away. You quickened your pace, panic rising in your chest as you searched for a quick hideaway.

Although you had spent a long while in the city, you didn’t know the navigation very well. You darted between the smallfolk, trying to confuse the woman behind you. You didn’t dare look over your shoulder to see if your plan had worked — you ran.

You ran as fast as your legs carried you and just as you turned a corner, you bumped into someone. You opened your mouth to apologize quickly, but an arm grabbed you, stopping you from getting away. At this moment, your heart stopped in your chest — you thought you had been caught. That whoever had grabbed your arm would take you to Otto Hightower and that it would be your end, but the voice that spoke was not one of danger.

On the contrary, it brought you immediate security.

‘’What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in a whole moon.’’

Daemon's eyes appeared surprised to see you, and you couldn't blame him. You had slipped out of his bedchamber while he was asleep and given no signs of life since. To his eyes, you had gone for good.

You opened your mouth to speak, but instead clutched Daemon’s jacket, needing to feel him in some way. ‘’I believe I am being followed,’’ you uttered out.

The corner of Daemon's lips curled. ‘’Another brewer upset you didn't buy his whiskey?’’ He assumed, but when you didn't laugh, his brows furrowed. He took a glance behind you, then took your hand and pulled you with him. ‘’Come.’’

He didn’t need to know who was following you or make sure you were being followed to start weaving between the crowds and leading somewhere he deemed safe. You had difficulty following his pace, not knowing the city quite as well.

You halting abruptly when he took you to the brothel he spent most of his nights at. The same brothel you had shared a goblet of wine that one night.

You stopped at the doors, shaking your head. ‘’Not here.’’ A plump brunette woman came out of the brothel. Her eyes landed on you and Daemon, the both of you standing out in a crowd of commoners. She tried to lure you in with her inviting eyes, but you tore yours away from her. ‘’Somewhere safe,’’ you added with pleading eyes. ‘’I…I believe I am in great danger.’’

A veil of concern washed on Daemon’s face, his protectiveness rising. ‘’How?’’

Sparing him the time traveling part — for now —, you gave him the short answer. ‘’Otto Hightower is after me. He has eyes looking for me in the city. If he finds me, it will be the end of House Targaryen.’’

*

You reached the island of Dragonstone in under an hour.

It wasn't very far from King's Landing, but Daemon promised Otto didn't have any eyes nor power here. The castle and land belonged to Princess Rhaenyra, but it was currently inhabited — other than by the few wild dragons.

You clung to Daemon during the first minutes, your stomach queasy and terrified you would fall and die. The mountains seemed so small from up high. Sensing how tense and terrified you were behind, one of his hands had let go of the saddle and came over yours on his stomach, caressing the back of your palm with his thumb in a silent reassuring touch.

It seemed to work because your fingers soon relaxed and you began getting used to the new sensations. The strong wind in your hair and hitting your face, the rumbling of Caraxes's breathing underneath you, the landscape from up high.

Perhaps you could get used to flying.

Dragonstone was an important land in House Targaryen history. You had studied its history back in Braavos and seen drawings of the island in books, but it turned out to be even more beautiful than you had imagined.

The castle towers were shaped by Valyrian magic to look like dragons to make the castle look fearsome and dragon architecture could be found throughout the castle; small dragons framing gates and dragon claws holding torches, a pair of great wings cover the armory and smithy, and dragon tails form archways and staircases.

After landing, Daemon helped you dismount and brought you to the Sea Dragon tower, which was shaped like a dragon gazing serenely out across the sea. Its hall was wide and entirely made of stone.

You had been born in this very castle.

Your mother, Queen Rhaella, had died in this very castle.

Daemon’s eyes followed you as you admired the ancestral castle. ‘’Welcome to Dragonstone,’’ he said, walking through the hall as if he owned it. ‘’Everything has a layer of dust, but it’s the safest place I know.’’

‘’It’s beautiful.’’ A large dragon was perfectly sculpted into one of the stone walls. Its details were impressive — the scales and spikes each crafted meticulously, the burning stare in his eyes, the claws.

‘’Indeed.’’ Daemon’s boots clicked on the floor, getting closer to you. ‘’Though I do wish we would have crossed paths under happier pretenses, I am just relieved to have found you again.’’ He hovered over your shoulder and kissed it.

Your eyes flutter closed at the delicate touch of his lips, but you forced yourself to move away from him. ‘’I’ve done an horrible thing.’’

‘’Whatever you've done, I probably have done worse—’’

The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them. ‘’I've killed a child.’’

Your cruel doings made you sick to your stomach, but you had no other choice. You had to save Daenerys. You had to save House Targaryen. Their fate were in your hands.

Leaving your dark confession pending, you walked over to the window. You could see the volcano — the Dragonmont. It was still in activity, but hadn’t erupted in years. Caraxes was above the mouth, flying freely.

Daemon was silent which was nothing good. You remember his reaction to the miscarriage and how you had held him as he processed the news. Now that he knew who was behind the miscarriage, what would happen to you? Would he tell his brother? Viserys would have you behead without a doubt.

Using what could be your last words, you began explaining your motive. ‘’The king was right about the child being a boy. His name was Aegon II and he was going to be the downfall of House Targaryen.’’

The sound of Daemon's laugh echoed. ‘’A child will be the downfall of House Targaryen?’’

‘’Yes,’’ you said strongly, winds blowing through the window and catching in your silver hair. ‘’I know this because I have read it in books.’’

You shifted on your feet, a knot twisting in your stomach. The truth was about to be unraveled and you were terrified. What if Daemon doesn't believe you? All that travel back to King's Landing will have been for nothing.

‘’I've got something to tell you. Something else.‘’ You drew a breath and jumped. ‘’My name is Y/N Targaryen, and I come from the future. I...I was born here, on Dragonstone — 150 years to this day.’’ You turned and looked up to search for a reaction from Daemon, but his face was blank. ‘’My words might sound mad, but I am speaking the truth, Daemon—’’

‘’The truth?‘’ Daemon said, his violet eyes rising to look at you. ‘’You told me you were born in Braavos, yet you are saying you were born here.’’

‘’I grew up in Braavos,’’ you corrected. ‘’My brother and sister and I were brought there after our parents’ death. I have not entirely lied.’’

Daemon's brow furrowed. ‘’Why should I believe you?’’ He didn't give you time to say anything,  suddenly looking furious, any ounces of tenderness wholly erased from his features. ’’I trusted you, I took you to the Keep and you used me to stab my family in the back. You killed my brother's unborn child!’’

‘’I had to!’’ Tears welled in your eyes. ‘’I had to,‘’ you repeated. Your words were spoken so gently the prince barely heard. ‘’170 years from now, the Targaryen lineage will be almost extinct. My sister Daenerys and I are the last Targaryens, but according to this dream that I had, I would’ve been the last Targaryen standing if I didn’t stop Aegon II from seeing the light of day.’’ You hesitated and closed your mouth before opening it once more. ‘’If I had let Aegon II live, the dragons would have danced. The dragons must not dance, or it would be the death of them all.’’

Daemon frowned at your riddle. ‘’What?’’

‘’Come the day King Viserys dies, his firstborn son, Aegon II, will be crowned king instead of Rhaenyra and a civil war — a war of succession — will begin between the wrongly crowned king and the rightful heir and queen, Rhaenyra. They call it the Dance of the dragons. A lot of people will die in this war. You die in this war—’’

A hand came around your throat, its hold strong enough to lower your intake of air, and forced you to look up. Daemon's violet eyes were filled with rage and underlying fear, the likely motive to his sudden violence, while yours were begging him to let go of you.

-

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[ikemen-trifecta]

I saw your gojo x social anxious reader. i get a lot of sensory overload and gojo satoru is a comfort characger. Can i have some imagines to how he would help someone dealing with overload?

hii hii~! i love this ask!! ՞ ⸝⸝>v<⸝⸝ ՞⸜ ♡ ⸝💕gojo is my biggest comfort character ever my fellow gojo nation friend :3 AND I LOVE HIM SO SO SO MUCHHHHHH <333 i was so so SO happy to work on this!!! >w< i really hope it touches your heart! <3 also, the fic just kept getting longer and longer in the blink of an eye cuz ideas kept popping up in my head as it went along hehe! i am NOT and never will be physically capable of being normal when it comes to this man ASKDJHFDJKS - ENJOYYYYYY!!! >:DDD

~ Mod Astraea!!!

Walking hand in hand with Gojo excitedly, you’re over the moon to be heading to see a movie at the theaters. Choosing to go the more scenic route to enjoy a walk together, you both ended up near a big park. You thought it would be nice and peaceful, that you would be able to enjoy nature and take your time, only to find out there was a huge crowd for some kind of event. Which happened to include playing the drums and whistling. On top of it, you could suddenly feel the sun’s harsh rays hitting your face more than before, which wasn't helping at all. The lights blind your eyes, and the loud noises make you feel lightheaded. Too loud…too bright…it all feels so overwhelming, and your heartbeat starts to race. At this moment, you wish you could just transform the area to be calm and depopulated. 

And that’s when amidst everything, you feel a gentle squeeze of your hand. It’s a reassuring gesture from Gojo, who instinctively senses your discomfort without you even having to utter a word. “(Y/n), what’s wrong?” He stops in his tracks and looks down, his attention fully focused on you now. 

You squeeze it back and look up at him, noticing that your legs are wobbling a bit like a newborn baby fawn. You squeeze his hand harder, finding it to be the one source of stability and comfort in the moment. Squeezing it so hard and you can feel the pads of your fingers wedge deep within his hand, and he lets you. Even with his glasses on, you can tell he looks so concerned by the way the corner of his mouth turns slightly downright. You open your mouth, wanting to tell him you're okay, to tell him not to worry - but you just can’t. When you’re with him, it just feels right to be open about everything. Impossible to hide anything from him. So instead of the words I’m fine coming out of your slightly parted lips, you confess, “it’s all too loud…it’s too much…” 

In one fluid motion, Gojo drapes his cream colored coat around your shoulders, and you feel it’s warmth envelop you. The first thing you notice after that is the smell. It’s minty and woody, with notes of blue hibiscus. It smells like Gojo. It smells like home. 

In no time, he quickly takes you to a secluded area, deeper into the forest where you guys are away from the action. “Just breathe, breathe, breathe.” You’re trying your best, but the world just feels like it’s shaking and your breaths are still spastic. Gojo takes off his glasses abruptly and takes his hand up to your face, tilting your chin, making you look directly into his eyes. “Look at me. Look at me. You’re fine, I’m right here. Just focus on me.” 

He stares into your eyes, and you notice they look different. More beautiful than usual. Maybe it’s because they’re laced with worry and concern? You stare back. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t wanna make us late to the movie because of this-“

“Screw the movie! Don’t you dare apologize.”

You cling onto his shirt, and he lets you. Not only that, he pulls you in closer, rubbing his hand up and down your back reassuringly: protectively. Taking off his limitless completely, as you cradle your head into his chest to listen to the sound of his heartbeat. It’s so steady and strong, and becomes the anchor in the storm. You focus on its rhythm, matching your breaths to its cadence. With every inhale and exhale, you feel a sense of serenity washing over you. It’s so comforting and warm; you feel so safe within his arms as his presence envelops you, cocooning you from the chaos that was overwhelming you just moments ago and start to feel yourself calm down a little. 

"You're doing great," Gojo murmurs softly, his voice a soothing melody that wraps around you like a soft embrace. "Remember, there's no rush. We have all the time in the world. Just be here, in this moment, with me."

With each passing second, your tense muscles begin to relax, and the world which made you feel like you had sunken under water now felt like you had your head over the surface. Just enough to speak. 

“Satoru…,” you muffle softly, head still in his chest.

“Hm?” He’s quick to respond. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“I…it’s just that, a lot of things can just be too much for me in the moment and- and you’re always there to help me but I can’t help but feel like I’m being a burden-“

“Stop right there-,” Gojo’s interrupts, his voice firm yet gentle.

“But I mean…! Don’t you feel like protecting the weak is well…necessary but still tiring?” You look up at him, tears welling in your eyes. “I- I don’t want for you to feel burdened with me or like I’m a constant reminder of your work.”

Gojo’s gaze softens at you, and his hand cups your cheek, as he wipes away a tear from your eyes. “Listen to me, (y/n). You’re not weak. I mean it.” His tone is serious and caring, and his facial features show nothing but genuine concern for you. “You’re a strong, brilliant person. And it’s not the same. I want to protect you. I want to be by your side and look out for you and make sure you���re always smiling and safe. Protecting you has never been a burden, but a blessing. Because it’s you; the person I fell in love with,” he says with a gaze filled with something that can only be described as adoration. “And you need to give yourself more credit, you hold yourself so well in so many situations. So don’t hesitate to lean on me when things get hard, okay?”

A soft sigh escapes you as his thumb brushes against your skin, the tenderness of the gesture making your heart flutter, but it doesn’t stop there. He leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, then peppers his way down your face to kiss away another tear. 

You blush from his affectionate gestures, and from hearing him be so serious about you and accepting of your feelings. It really struck a cord in your heart when he was so caring and validating he was in times like these, despite the playful tease he usually was. You love it about him; how he knows you so well and gets so tender during moments like these. 

“Satoru…thank you,” you say as you cling even closer to him.

“You don’t have to thank me, angel,” he chuckles softly, when suddenly his face lights up. “Hehe, I have the perfect thing to make you feel better!” He says enthusiastically, as he quickly moves his hands down to the inside of his coat pockets, which is still wrapped around you. He pulls out an assortment of sweets, ranging from chocolates to lollipops. Your eyes widened as you witnessed his big hands seemingly disappear into the pockets to pull out such an immense amount of candies. 

“You have so many!! Way more than usual! This is like a kid coming home with a Halloween basket!” You excitedly state, looking down at all the sugary goodness.

“It was the snacks to sneak into the movie of course, No one's gonna pay that insane amount for snacks. Capitalistic schemes, tsk tsk tsk.”

“That’s so true,” you agree. “How are your pockets even that big, though? I wish women’s clothes came with bigger pockets, it would be soooo much nicer to have. And convenient,” you pout, thinking about all the times you went to put your phone in your jacket or pants pockets, only to find out they can fit probably only a singular cheeto in there, or worse - it’s just a pattern sewn on for the sole purpose of decoration. 

Gojo grins at you, his eyes twinkling mischievously, “Heh, I wouldn’t mind being your portable handy, dandy backpack whenever,” he chives in a playful tone. “I mean~ Isn’t it so cool that I can even teleport to you too? You also got yourself a portable boyfriend! A wombo combo,” he states, winking at you. “And if I get to see this cute face of yours each time I were to show up, it would be totally worth the distance,” he teases, a chuckle escaping his lips at the sight of your pouting face.

You laugh, and proclaim in a singsong voice, “wow~ my boyfriend is just soooo amazing, look at everything he can do.”

“Awh angel, you’re gonna make me blush. I’m just so great aren’t I?” He jokes, and as soon as you open up your mouth to deliver a comeback, he reaches over to your lips and plops a chocolate confection right inside before you even notice what’s happening. “There!” He proclaims like he just won a plush toy in a crane game, and he closes your lips using his index finger, brushing over them softly.

The gesture throws you off, especially with the way his big hands are caressing you so tenderly. You’re certain you can feel your heart skip multiple beats. And you’re pretty sure with the way it’s beating he’ll hear it jumping out of your chest. 

I’m gonna get ikemen overload at this rate-, you begin to think to yourself until you start chewing the little dessert. Your eyes open wide upon tasting it, and you quickly finish eating the whole thing. “That was so good!” You exclaim. One thing about Gojo that you happened to share a lot in common with is his sweet tooth, and sweets never failed to cheer you up. “What flavor was that?”

“I knew you’d like it! And as for the flavor-,” he leans down to your ears and whispers, “it’s a flavor called love~” 

“Satoru!” You state, slapping his chest playfully, a blush blossoming all over your face.

“Ahaha! I knew this would give you energy! It’s cheese curd from a Hungarian chocolate called Túro Rudi.” He pauses for a bit, admiring the way your face lit up after having eaten the sweet, and how interested you were in listening about it. “You really are so adorable when you get all excited like that, over even the littlest of things. Hehe, you know, I’m gonna give you even more of these sweets if you keep being this cute.

“Then I guess I should feed you some too, since you’re so cute,” you giggle.

Gojo chuckles and leans down in response, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. “Mm, thanks angel. It really is delicious.”

You whimper softly after he pulls away, wanting the feeling of his lips on yours back. A blush creeps on your face, and you can feel yourself melting like ice cream on the inside.

“There’s more in your pockets, right?”

“Yeah, but it tastes better this way.”

“You wanna taste more?” You ask sheepishly. 

“I’m dying too.”

He cups your face in his hands, and his lips meet yours once again. They’re so soft, and you can taste a little bit of strawberry from the lip balm he uses. You smile against them and respond to his kiss, weaving your hands through his silky locks. This time it’s longer, and both of you are savoring the moment. 

After pulling away to catch your breath, he gazed lovingly at your face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you feeling better angel?”

“Mmhm,” you hum as you lean your head on his collarbone. “Much better.”

You guys stay like this for a while, just soaking in each other’s company. Gojo isn’t a fan of plans, but one thing he knows for sure is he plans to stay by your side for the rest of the day.

[nilesdaughter]

i fall in love just a little, oh, a little bit

Fandom: Critical Role Characters: Percy De Rolo, Vex'ahlia, Trinket (Mention), Orthax (Mention), Saundor (Mention), Zahra Hydris (Mention), Vesper Elaina De Rolo (Mention) Pairing: Perc'ahlia Word Count: 1,212 Note: The fill for the "Fall" prompt for @percahliaweek. I also specifically dedicate this one to my beloved @lycaboros because, like Vex, falling in love with you was never a single definable moment. [Also found on Ao3.]

“I don’t know when it happened. When I fell.”

Vex’ahlia couldn’t help but think that it would have been impossible to fall in love in a single moment, because it had never been a single moment with Percival.

It was their initial meeting. How he looked up at her through the bars of his prison cell like he was seeing the sun after a long and stormy night that had blocked out the moons and stars. How, without hesitation, he passed over his entire coin purse to her once he retrieved his effects from the storage chest they’d been unceremoniously tossed into. How he gravitated towards Trinket, not shying away from her beloved bear like most everyone else did upon meeting him, and even seemed to find comfort in tangling his trembling hands into Trinket’s coarse fur.

It was the first trick arrow. How he’d been uncharacteristically unsure as he presented it to her, apologizing for the potential overstep. How the knowledge that he’d thought of her and crafted something that only she could use flustered her in a way she never would have expected. How he’d turned such a pretty shade of pink when she kissed him in gratitude.

It was Whitestone. How he said he trusted her to know if and when he lost control. How startled and touched his expression had been when she told him that he didn’t have to be alone when he faced the darkness ahead of him. How her voice, her words, had seemed to be the ones that pulled him away from Orthax’s influence just long enough that the connection between them was interrupted, offering Percy a chance to reorient himself and decide that he would not give in to the constant whispers of violence and vengeance that the demon promised him.

It was the broom. How he didn’t think any less of her for taking it, even if—in retrospect—it had been a shitty thing to do. How he worried for her safety the first few times she’d tried to use it to fly. How he took his worries and channeled that energy into making the enchanted item safer, even going so far as losing sleep over ensuring she had proper failsafes.

It was Syngorn. How she felt safe enough to admit that she was terrified of going back. How, for even just a moment, she allowed herself to rely on someone that wasn’t her brother. How he had assured her that she was worth so much more than she believed, so much more than what the elven city tried to convince her that she was worth. How he’d given her a title—a title—to ensure that her father was forced to acknowledge that she was accomplished, that she had risen up in the world after she’d abandoned his home so many years before. How, when Saundor tried to convince her to give up her heart, she felt she had no other choice but to admit that it already belonged to someone else.

It was Wildemount. How she had spent so much time dancing around the fact that her confession had played a part in ensuring the success of his resurrection that she almost missed the hints that he’d heard it, wherever his soul had been. How he’d agreed that they had to be willing to forgive in order to grow, to heal. How, even when she still couldn’t bring herself to find the courage to ask him if he’d heard her, he’d kissed her in the snow and promised they would find the time to talk about it all properly.

It was the Courage. How he was willing to play to her whims, even when her opening the door naked had apparently erased all his carefully laid plans for their evening before they went to take on Thordak. How he let her take the lead, deferred to her knowledge, however limited it was, to ensure they both found satisfaction in that evening’s shared bed. How he surprised her with continuing beyond the first round, showing off that he actually knew a little more about intimacy than he had let on, and made her feel like she was making love and not just having another casual fuck.

It was the Grey Hunt. How he had granted her a title that, for all intents and purposes, had to be earned before it could truly be hers. How he believed in her so wholeheartedly that he had no doubt she would earn it. How he’d clearly lost sleep waiting for her to return from her ritualistic challenge, ensured he was present when she finally did.

It was the manor. How he gave her free reign to design the space. How he was his ever meticulous self and ensured she had anything and everything she desired to outfit her new home. How it became his home, too, because more and more of him appeared there as the year stretched on. How it became a quiet haven amidst the patrolling and the politicking, a space where they could be their authentic, messy selves, even during the brief time they allowed their fears to force them apart.

It was their elopement. How it wasn't something either of them planned for, even with all his tendencies to mastermind all the details and all her tendencies to weigh the consequences before a decision was made. How the synchronization of their impulsive streaks left them giddy and nearly drunk on their love for each other. How, even with the love and support of their friends, they managed to ensure their formal dedication to each other was something they kept to themselves. (And bless Zahra for not breathing a word of it to anyone until they were ready.)

It was Elysium. How his faith in her never wavered, letting a god know just how much love and trust he had in her. How he was so proud of her fiery rebirth, so enamored with her brilliant sunlight, that he declared an additional star needed to be added to the De Rolo crest, their crest, to mark the occasion.

It was everything that came… after. How he understood the devastation of losing family. How he knew that her grief and the subsequent healing were in no way going to be linear. How they broke to pieces with night terrors and haunting memories, but were always there to catch each other, build each other back up with love and understanding. How he turned his brilliant mind away from weaponry and destruction and focused instead on clockwork and artistry. How he absolutely beamed when they realized they were going to have a child. How, when Vesper was born, he seemed to physically shed his identity as the Terrible Tinkerer of Tal’Dorei, shed his identity as Lord Percival Frederickstein Von Musel Klossowski De Rolo III. How, with their small daughter in his arms, he became so soft and doting, donning the identity of ‘papa’ with surprising ease. How he never squandered an opportunity to let them know just how much he loved them, how grateful he was to them for giving him a future he once believed he’d thrown away.

“I think it happened through all the little moments that I didn’t even notice.”

[giggly-squiggily]

Hi Squiggly! It's the bish anon who requested the Kokushibo x reader for tickletober! I saw your mini-vacation post. I hope you're doing better...If you feel up to it, can you please consider writing a 'cuddle' fic with soft lee! Kokushibo x Ler! Reader? I'm sorry, the six-eyed terrorist makes me melt more than he should😭. Get well soon!

Koku my beloved! I've gotcha covered, anon! :D It's time we give our six-eyed demon some much needed love, shall we? :3

Cloud 9 (Taglist)

@cupcake-spice13, @thatbigbisexual29, @duckymcdoorknob @wolfyeatstacos @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022, @backy-san @t-wordiiish, @sarahmaystock5578

“Good evening.”

Kokushibou froze, the sheath holding his sword halfway towards its destined spot. Slowly, he peered at you, finding you standing by with a furious glare. “Good evening, (Y/N)...did you sleep well?”

“Not at all. I was too busy worrying about my husband. See- he hadn’t come to bed yesterday morning. Or the previous morning. Or the mornings before that.” You kept your voice low, but your temper sharpened each statement until you were practically biting them out. “From what I’ve gathered- he’s been out training from dawn till dusk.”

“That…certainly is an issue.” Kokushibou placed the sword against the wall, turning so he was facing you. An outsider would likely find this comical- the highest rank moon being scolded by a lesser demon. Of course- Kokushibou would have had their head for even thinking of you as anything less than his equal. Regardless of hierarchy and Lord Muzan’s blood; to Kokushibou, you were just as strong as he.

And in a game of wills; even stronger.

“Yes, it is. Tell me, my dear husband- have you already forgotten what you promised me?” You tried to keep your anger, but the longer you looked at him the more soft you felt. He was clearly ragged, the visible skin along his arms bruised and scratched. His clothes were dirty, and his hair was a wild mess of twigs and leaves. It was his own fault, sure, but that didn’t mean you were completely shut off from the visible aches.

“...That I’d return when the sun began to rise so I could rest and in turn spend time with you.” Guilt touched his eyes, and he bowed his head in apology. “Forgive me, (Y/N).”

Your anger melted away as you shook your head, walking to your husband. “I always do. But my forgiveness isn’t going to help you in the long run. If you overwork yourself, you’ll be sloppy. Isn’t that what you told me when you were training me the first time?” You reached out, tracing his face with your hands. “Come on- let’s get you out of these clothes and into something comfortable. I’ve already got a bath running.”

~~~

“I can do this myself, (Y/N)...”

Despite the words, Koku’s voice lacked any real argument. You sat behind him in the bath, combing through his mangled hair gently as you removed the various twigs within. It took some mild persuasion to get him to let you help.  “You’re my husband; don’t be so modest,” You teased, even though you knew why he hesitated on you seeing him nude. The water reflected the scars along his skin, old and fading- full of stories. You didn’t pry about them; instead choosing to wait for the day he was comfortable sharing.

“Nope. I haven’t seen you in days. This is our time.” You smiled as you pulled the last tangle free, watching his hair pool around him in soft waves. “Besides- for all that patience of yours, you’d give up not even halfway with your hair.”

“Hm.” Was all he said in response. You grinned as you picked up a washcloth. Victory was yours.

After he was bathed, dressed and clean, you pulled him along to your bed, pushing him gently into his side before sitting behind him once more, tugging at his robe. “Take this off- I have something for you.”

“Didn’t you just insist I put this on?” He asked as he did as told, shedding the upper half of the robe. “So indecisive.”

“Hush.” You pinched his bicep before reaching over, gathering up a bottle of oil. Daki snagged it on her last mission but hated the smell, giving it to you because “It seems like something you’d like.” Sure enough- you found it pleasant. “I’m gonna give you a massage.”

“Oh?” Kokushibou blinked, looking at the bottle curiously. “(Y/N)...You do know we regenerate. Muscle aches are no longer a thing for any of us.”

“There’s more to massage than just ache relief, love.” You told him after he investigated the bottle, returning it to you with suspicious eyes. “You’ll see what I mean.”

Kokushibou didn’t argue as you gathered his hair up, tossing it over his shoulder and out of the way. Nor did he complain when you pressed your now oil bearing hands into his upper back, gliding them across his skin. If anything- he seemed to have suddenly lost the will to fight, his tense shoulders easing almost immediately.

“Feels good?” You asked, grinning when he groaned in response. Another victory for you.

~~~

By the end of your massage, Kokushibou was puddy in your hands.

Lying beside you, he didn’t argue as you scooted closer, pressing his head against your chest as you stroked his hair, humming a song you remembered from your time being human. There was a twinge of sadness with it, but it was nothing compared to the sight you got to witness.

Kokushibou felt so sturdy yet so vulnerable in your arms. You didn’t say anything when tears dripped against your chest, only wiped them away as they came. Just how long had it been since someone held him? The thought made your soul hurt far worse.

As if sensing this, you felt your husband squeeze you tighter, his way to reassure you. He always seemed to know when your mind began to wonder. No words were exchanged, you just leaned down and kissed his crown.

Eventually, his tears dried and the ache you felt had eased. The two of you were just lying there, entrapped in each other's arms. You were happy- it felt so good to finally have him back with you.

At the same time however, all the petty revenge schemes you made when he was gone came to mind. You were no longer angry, yes- but that didn’t mean you were completely over it. Feeling sneaky, you let the hand stroking his hair drift down to his back, keeping your touch feather light as you traced along the back of his ribs.

“Hm!” Kokushibou made a noise resembling a muffled laugh. Then another. Eventually, you felt him shake against you, muffled giggles creeping out his throat as you carried on tracing his ribs up and down. He didn’t pull away and you didn’t press in- neither of you wanted to break the serenity of this moment. “(Y/N), pleahhahahahse.”

“This is what you get for overworking yourself.” You told him simply, kissing his crown once more as you danced your fingers over his lower back. Again- you earned a round of muffled giggles, the sound deep and rich that vibrated your bones in the best way. “I missed you- and I missed your laugh. Don’t leave me alone like that again.”

“I prohooohohmise! I prohooohohmise, my mohoohoohohon, now stahahhhap thathahhahat!” He laughed out, relaxing once more when you stopped, returning to his hair. “Heh…you are a devil, (Y/N).”

“I’m your devil.” You smiled, feeling him take your chin in his hands before his lips found yours, kissing you deeply.

“And I love you for that. I’ll…be more aware. Of my limits going forward.” He traced your face with his thumb, taking it in like it was the only sight in the world worth looking at. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

“It’s okay…as long as you come home, that’s what matters.” You pulled him into you, returning to your serene state. “I love you, my great swordsman.”

“As do I, my beloved moon.”

Thanks for reading!