#this is my history buff moment

[mashedpotatosinacup]

my roman empire is the kennedy family

[wandered-rose]

ೀ I'M GOING TO SEE OPPENHEIMER LATER TODAY

[vveissesfleisch]

.

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 7

Word Count- 5.3k

Warnings- Swearing, stabbing, Elijah wanting to hold hands, witch trials

A/N- KLAUS NEXT CHAPTER BABIES!!!

“I don’t understand why you grown men keep dragging me into your shit,” I groan to Alaric as he parks his car. I cling to my seatbelt and regret ever answering my phone this morning. I really just have to throw my phone away at this point. 

“I don’t trust him around Jenna, Y/n. I have a bad feeling about the guy,” Ric says as he undoes his seatbelt and begins to exit the car. 

“That or are you just jealous?”

I raise an eyebrow and purse my lips at him and he leans down to stare at me with an annoyed look.

“Get out of the car Y/N.”

I watch as Ric makes his way from his side of the car to mine, but just as he’s about to open my door I press down the lock from the inside. I smirk at him as he tries to open the door but it doesn’t budge. He stares down at me annoyed and then presses his key fob unlocking the car. He tries to open the door but I mimic my actions from before and lock the car again. We continue doing this for another 2 minutes before Ric gets the better of me and throws open my door. 

“Seriously, Y/n!”

I huff and practically crawl out of the car. 

“For the record, I would rather jump in front of a train than be here,” I say matter-of-factly to Ric as we catch sight of Jenna and Elijah walking up a grass path together.

“For the record,” Ric waves at them and then turns his head towards me, “I don’t care.”

Once again I groan as we make our way towards Jenna and Elijah. I lock eyes with the latter and he sends me a warm smile. I don’t reciprocate and quickly turn my eyes towards Jenna. I can still feel Elijah’s eyes on me, as always, as we stand in front of Jenna and him.  

“Uh, Elijah, this is my friend,” Jenna, who seems to be annoyed, introduces Alaric to Elijah, “Alaric Saltzman. And you’ve already met Y/N,” Jenna turns to me and seems much more happy to see me.

Ric who can’t seem to catch a clue speaks, “Ya, I got your, uh, message about walking Elijah here through the old property lines. I thought I, uh we,” He gestures to me, “would, uh, tag along. You know us being history buffs and all. Where to next?”

An awkward silence follows for a moment before Elijah breaks it, “I’m pretty curious about the freed slave property owners. Some say, you know, the descendants of the slaves are the true keepers of American history.”

I am almost one hundred percent sure Mr. Suit and Tie has an ulterior motive but Jenna doesn’t seem to catch it as she tells him she has the stuff in her car and that she’ll go grab it. I watch as she walks away and then turn back to the two men next to me. Elijah stands about a foot's width away from me while Ric is to my right. Ric must’ve noticed Elijah’s staring as he moved himself in front of me. If you didn’t want me to be around Elijah why bring me here? Dumbass. 

I can still see Elijah from over Ric’s shoulder and the movement Ric made doesn’t seem to sit well with Elijah as a small twitch in his upper lip presents into a snarl. He drops back into a neutral look almost instantly. 

“So you’re one of those people on Elena’s list of loved ones to protect,” Elijah says to Ric. Even though Elijah is relatively shorter than Ric the aura Elijah protrudes makes up for it. Anyone could tell that even though Ric is trying to put up a macho front, he’s afraid of Elijah. 

“So is Jenna.”

Elijah smirks at Alaric and then shakes his head slightly, “You don’t have to be jealous. I don’t really pursue younger women,” Elijah’s eyes trail to mine momentarily, “Most of the time.”

Elijah turns back to Ric and they stare at each other for a moment before Elijah pats Ric on the shoulder, “It’s a joke, Ric, lighten up.” 

Ric rolls his eyes and nods. 

“Wait,” I speak and turn to Elijah, “Technically isn’t every woman younger than you? You know, since you’re like old. Really old. ”

Ric just brings a hand up to massage the tension between his eyebrows and sighs deeply, but Elijah lets out a small chuckle that sends shocks down my spine. 

“I guess you’re right Y/N. I am really old,” He mimics my tone with a small smile on his face. 

—

35 minutes. We’ve been walking in this dirty ass forest for 35 minutes. I should be in bed asleep right now. But nope, here I am following behind three adults as they talk about history. It’s not that I don’t like history, I do, it’s just that it’s a Saturday. I shouldn’t be learning things on a weekend. 

I half-heartedly listen to what Jenna is telling Elijah as we cross over a bunch of fallen tree logs. Alaric helps Jenna over one, and I don’t miss the dirty look she looks she shoots him, making me try to cover my giggle with my hand. The giggling instantly stops though when I see Elijah standing by the front of the log with his hand outstretched towards me. We haven’t talked in these 35 minutes since Jenna has been occupying him, but that hasn’t stopped him from turning back every few moments to catch a glimpse of me, as if he thinks I’m just going to disappear into thin air. Honestly, I wish I would.

I’m not going to use Elijah’s help but realize that my clumsy ass would probably fall over the log if I didn’t. So I lightly place my hand into his, which results in him closing his hand over mine. Locking our hands together. Our hands are locked for a long moment before Ric clears his throat from the other side of the log. I quickly look away from Elijah and use his hand to get over the log carefully. I soon as I get over it though I wrench my hand away from his and walk over to Jenna who sends me a warm smile. 

“Seems like someone is fond of you,” She whispers to me as she raises his eyebrows suggestively.

I can already feel the redness making its way onto my cheeks as I stare at her horrified. Jenna just laughs at my face as she starts leading us farther down the trail we’re on. Sadly though, Alaric has occupied Jenna, which leaves Elijah to walk next to me. 

Elijah’s quiet for a moment, seemingly just enjoying my company before he starts speaking, “Is it true what Alaric says,” I turn to him confused, “That you’re a history buff?”

I sigh slightly as I shrug my shoulders realizing that just talking to the guy might make this little trip go by a little faster.

“I wouldn't call myself a buff,” I use my fingers to make air quotes, “but it’s also not something I dislike. Learning about how our world was made and all the small factors of why it was made are quite intriguing. I also like weird history.”

“Weird history,” Elijah questions me with a frown.

“You know, like the unexplained, or the odd things in history that many don’t understand,” At the still confused look on his face I continue, “You know like the dancing plague of 1518, D.B Cooper, or Oh! The lost colony of Roanoke. That’s probably my most favorite.”

Once I realized that I had just gone on a tangent I went to apologize to Elijah but when I look at him all I can see on his face is pure adoration. The type of adoration that makes the beating in my chest stops. He smiles at me and from being so close to him I notice the small dimple on his left cheek. 

“I understand now,” Elijah says, “You seem to be most interested in The Roanoke Colony. Why is that?”

I ponder his question for a moment, “I’m not sure, it’s just something I’ve always been drawn to. Maybe because of how mysterious and odd it is. I’m not sure, I know that some people say it was aliens or cannibalism but there isn’t a known answer. It’s amazing to me that so many people, an entire village, can go missing and there are no clues. Other than the word Croatoan!”

Elijah nods his head along but the look in his eyes and the smirk on his face tells me he’s hiding something. Wait. Holy shit.

I whip around to him stopping us, “You know, don’t you! I mean you’re old enough but I didn’t even think you would…,” I stop and stare at him in awe for a moment, “You have to tell me.”

Elijah opens his mouth but then I shake my head and throw a hand up to his mouth stopping him, “Wait! No, what if you tell me and it ends up disappointing me.”

I go through all the possibilities in my head at what he could tell me and then fight myself on whether I should have him tell me or not. I can feel Elijah’s smile behind my hand and bring my hand back.

“Sorry,” I wince embarrassed. 

“No worries, I enjoy seeing you so full of life,” I blush at his words, “Would you like me to tell you?”

I think about Elijah’s question for a moment and then shake my head, “No. I think the reason I love that moment in history so much is because of the mystery behind it. I don’t want to lose interest in it by knowing.”

Elijah seems pleased with my answer and nods, “Very well.”

We continue walking for another moment before Elijah chimes up again, “What else interests you?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Nothing much, I’m not a very interesting person.”

“I highly doubt that.”

I smile slightly at his comment, “Well I like reading. That’s actually something Elena and I have bonded on. I used to get bullied for being a book nerd but now having someone who likes it too is comforting.”

At this mention of Elena, Elijah’s smile drops slightly but then turns into a small frown. 

“I’m sorry that you were bullied for reading, as a literature connoisseur myself I find it quite depressing how reading has become something so rare in these past decades. What types of books do you read?”

I nod along to Elijah’s words until he asks what books I read. At this, I instantly get red and look anywhere other than him.

“You know,” I try to find a socially acceptable answer. Not really wanting to tell this 1,000-year-old man I spend my free time reading smut, “Literature.”

“Literature?”

Elijah looks at me with a smirk on his handsome features and I just nod and clear my throat, “Yep, literature. Just all the literature.”

“What about you? What literature do you like?”

Elijah laughs slightly at my change in subject, “Literature in general as well,” I roll my eyes at his joke, “But also I appreciate all types, Historical, the classics, thriller, even romance.”

“You read romance,” I ask surprised. 

He nods his head, “On occasion. There’s something so unique about how different authors portray love and devotion. Where some show it as a neverending, intense emotion others show it as one’s demise.” 

“And which do you believe?”

This question has Elijah pausing momentarily, thinking, “I’ve lived a long time, Elskan. Seen people start wars in the name of love, and seen people kill and die in its name aswell. To choose just one thought when it comes to the idea of love is something I can not do. What about you, what are your thoughts on love?”

“I want nothing to do with it.”

Elijah goes quiet for a moment at my answer. I face back forward and we keep walking in silence for another moment.

“I understand your reluctance towards it. But still young why cut off something like love at your age?”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his words. My age has nothing to do with my hatred and distaste for love. 

“Don’t tell me all that romance you read is getting to your head, Elijah,” I say to him slightly snarky.

“I’ve struck a nerve,” Elijah says as he nods his head. 

“Nope. No nerves struck here,” I tell him picking up my speed and walking away from him. He doesn’t have to try hard to meet my speed though as he falls back into step with me. 

“Even though there have been no nerves struck,” He tries to lighten the tension with a joke, “I must apologize for overstepping. As I’ve said before, making you uncomfortable is the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

I move my gaze from Jenna’s back, who is currently in a small argument with Alaric, and turn to look at Elijah. Once again his face has no signs of malice or ill intent.

“It’s fine,” I shrug at him, “Like I said no struck nerves.”

Elijah slightly laughs and then nods his head. We walk for another 5 minutes in silence, Elijah helps me over logs and rocks whenever we come up to one. 

“Y/N and I should be heading back now,” Alaric tells the group as we get to a clearing. 

I nod, happy to be getting out of these woods.

“Well, thank you Y/N for coming today, I’m sure you had more exciting things to do today,” Jenna smiles at me and jokes.

“Just sleeping. But it was nice to see you Jenna,” I reluctantly look over to Elijah who hasn’t left my side, “You as well.”

This has Elijah’s deflated shoulders rising again. He almost reminds me of a dog that is happy someone is finally giving it an ounce of attention. 

“It was a pleasure to be able to spend this morning with you, Y/N,” I’ve noticed that Elijah calls me by my actual name when other people are around. But, when it is just him and I, he uses that stupid nickname. 

I nod as I go to follow Alaric back to the car but stop and turn back to Elijah, “I guess I’m not one-hundred percent against love,” This perks Elijah up, “I mean I totally loved the dress I wore to the tea party.”

Elijah lets out a deep chuckle that rattles his broad shoulders, “You weren’t the only one.”

I almost choke on my saliva at his words. Elijah’s smirk deepens and I put my lips together and nod my head fast.

“Well, um. I’ll be going now,” I don’t give Elijah time to respond as I speed walk past him and Jenna and grab Ric’s forearm pulling him roughly behind me.

“Keep up,” I whisper yell at him as we speed walk our way to the car. 

—

The original plan was that Ric and I would go on that stupid history walk and then after 30 minutes he would bring me back to my house, but of course, no one in this god-forsaken town follows any type of deal. So that’s why I am currently sitting in front of Demon and his “girlfriend,” and next to Ric who are talking about Elijah and how they don’t trust him. Thankfully Damon bought me fries so this whole trip hasn’t been an entire waste. I half-ass listen to their conversation but don’t really care so I don’t process a word they’re saying, at least not until Damon perks up.

I’ve come to learn from my time in knowing Demon that if I see him getting excited about something, someone is going to get hurt. 

So that’s why I follow his line of sight and see Elijah and Jenna walk into the Grill together.

“Ah, there Jenna with her new boyfriend,” Damon says. I know he’s just trying to get a reaction out of Ric but something about that sentence makes my skin crawl. 

Damon calls over both of them. Jenna welcomes all of us with a smile and wave while Elijah trails behind her looking complacent. As always his eyes find mine and his complacent smile lightens. 

“So I hear you two had a meeting of the historical minds today,” Damon speaks to the two.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Jenna smiles looking up at Elijah who is now looking down at Demon. 

“Well, as much as I’d love to continue this, I, uh, I’ve got papers to grade and a teenager to get home,” Ric gets up from his seat and he gestures to me. I frown as I see my fries still half full and quickly grab a fist full and fill my mouth trying to get away with as many as possible, almost choking myself in the meantime. The adults around me watch me with a mix of amusement and slight disgust, but I don't care. I’m not wasting free food. 

“No, you know what,” Alex or Stephanie or whatever Demon’s girlfriend is named, chirps up, “We should continue this. Let’s have a dinner party!”

Hell to the no. 

“Ooh, my girl. Full of good ideas,” Damon looks over to her before turning back to us, “I’ll be happy to host. Say tonight. Maybe?”

“It’s good for me. Jenna,” Where Alessia agrees Ric tries to disagree. 

“Yeah, I’m free,” Jenna talks over Ric. Yikes. 

“Will the lovely Y/N be there,” Elijah asks me and I try to tell him, “Hell no,” but the fries in my mouth have left me mute.

“Of course, she’ll be there,” Damon exclaims as if there isn’t any other place I’d rather be. I send him a nasty glare which earns me a wink in return. 

“Then it’d be a pleasure.”

Damon’s smile is all but welcoming as he responds to Elijah, “Great.”

This is going to be a horrible night. 

—

This is a horrible night. 

First I get a nasty grade on my modern art project. Not my fault, since modern art is a crime against humanity. 

Then, I try to find a dress for this stupid dinner and the only half-decent dress that I have now is two inches too short.

And then after I said screw it, put the dress on and finished getting ready. I went down to my car only to find out that my front tire had gone flat. Honestly in this case I was happy about it because I had a reason to cancel, but when I called Jenna and told her the “upsetting” news, she told me she’d come pick me up. Great. 

So now I’ve been sitting on my front porch waiting for Jenna. After waiting for fifteen minutes I was close to just calling it quits and telling Jenna the fries from earlier made me throw up on myself. But, right when I stand up a dark sedan pulls into my driveway. Wait. I know that sedan. Damnit. Why the hell is Elijah here?

As if he could read my thoughts Elijah pretty much glides out of his car looking practically god-like in yet another five-thousand-dollar suit and smiles at me. 

“Good evening, Elskan,” Elijah walks up the walkway to stand before me, “Miss. Sommers so kindly asked me if I could escort you to the dinner tonight. To which I happily obliged.”

“Right,” I sigh, “Let’s just get this night over with.”

I walk to Elijah’s car as he follows me, just like before he opens the door for me. I send him an appreciative nod and get in. After another moment we’re driving down the dark road towards the boarding house. 

“You look breathtaking, Elskan,” Elijah says to me from his position in the driver’s seat. 

“Thanks,” I turn to him and look at his usual attire, “You look the same.”

He chuckles, “Yes, you always seem to remind me of my attire. Thank you for that.”

“Always here to help.”

We drive in comfortable silence for the entirety of the trip until we get to the Salvatore’s driveway.

“How are you feeling about tonight,” Elijah’s tone is flat but as he looks at me his eyes are filled with what I believe to be suspicion.

“You mean, do I think something bad is going to happen?”

Elijah’s upper lip twitches, “Aren’t you a smart one? But yes, I am not going to threaten you Elskan. I would never do that, but,” At that, I’m tensing in my seat, “I need to know if your friends are planning something, unbecoming, tonight.”

At Elijah’s serious tone, I shake my head, “I don’t know anything. Promise,” Elijah doesn’t seem to be entirely pleased with my answer, and something in me wants to fix that, “But, I do know that Damon is not one to have friendly dinner parties so,” I look at him uneased but speak in a strong voice, “Be on your guard tonight.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Elskan.”

— 

Elijah and I stand side by side as he knocks on the front door. We wait only a moment before a smirking Demon opens it up,

“Thank you both for coming,” Damon says a little too nicely, “Y/N don’t you look adorable. Come on in!”

Elijah places his hand on my lower back, “Just one moment. Can I just say that if you have less than honorable intentions about how this evening is going to proceed, I suggest you reconsider.”

“No, nothing, nothing dishonorable. Just, uh, getting to know you.”

“Hmm, well, that’s good.”

“Yeah,” I watch this back and forth waiting for something bad to happen. 

“Because, you know, although Elena and I have this deal if you so much as make a move to cross me I’ll kill you and I’ll kill everyone in this house,” And there it is, “Except Y/N and Miss. Sommers of course. Are we clear?” 

“Crystal,” Damon eyes Elijah wearily. And then Elijah leads me into the house as Jenna enters the room.

“Jenna, wonderful to see you again. How are you?”

“I’m seriously getting whiplash from you man,” I whisper so only Elijah will hear. The only response I get is a slight squeeze to my waist as he pulls me closer and away from everyone else who has entered the room to greet us. His right-hand stays resting on my upper hip. 

“Let’s eat.”

—

“I hate to break it to you, Damon,” Jenna says to Damon as she pours him a glass of wine, “But according to Elijah your family is so not a founder of this town.” 

“Hmm, do tell,” Damon responds. Damon sits at the head of the table sipping his wine as he stares at Elijah, who is currently sitting next to me on my right. Alaric sits to my left and Jenna and Abby sit across from us. I should really learn her name. There’s also this balding white man who is sitting across from Damon at the other end of the table but no one here seems to want him here.

“Well, as I mentioned to Jenna earlier a faction of settlers migrated from Salem after the witch trial in the 1690s. Over the next hundred years, they developed this community where they could feel safe from persecution.”

“Hmm, because they were witches,” Jenna chimes in.

“Yeah, there’s no tangible proof there were witches in Salem.”

“Andies a journalist. Big on facts,” Oh, so that’s her name. I liked Andrea more.

“Well,” Elijah sets down his fork and starts talking again, “the lore says that there was this wave of anti-witch hysteria. It broke out in the neighboring settlement. So these witches were rounded up. They were tied to stakes in a field together and, uh, burned,” Elijah says as if it’s something anyone wants to hear while they’re eating steak dinner, “Some say you could hear the screams from miles around us. They were consumed by the fire. Could you pass the,” He gestures to the salt and Ric passes it to him wearily. 

“I wouldn’t repeat this to the Historical Society,” Jenna says which has me wanting to roll my eyes at the mention of those bags.

“Maybe you should,” I say to myself but have seemed to catch the attention of the table. Shit.

“I’m just saying it would knock them down a peg, which is clearly needed,” I whisper out the last part, “Even though there is no proof of witches being burned at the stake during the trials. It was mostly done from self-drownings and using rocks.”

At my contradiction to Elijah’s statement he raises an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“Self-drowning and rocks? How would that work,” Jenna questions with a slight stutter clearly having had a little too much wine.

“Well with the drowning it was more of a test,” I use fingerquotes at the word, “So to speak. The witch in question would be tossed into a body of water and if she was able to stay afloat she was condemned as a witch and was killed. But if she didn’t float, well. Y’know. So I mean either way it was just a way to punish women for being women. They used the rocks though to stone the people to death. Interestingly enough one of my ancestors was actually killed that way. R.I.P.”

I laugh at my little joke at the end which has earned me a few stares from the people at the table.

“Ok, moving past whatever that was,” Damon says as he turns back to Elijah, “So why do you want to know the location of these alleged massacres?”

Elijah thinks for a moment before smiling, “You know… a healthy historian’s curiosity, of course.”

“Of course,” Damon replies to Elijah who has already gone back to taking a bite out of his steak. I bring my glass of water to my lips and take a sip but start choking on it when I feel a hand gently grab my other one from under the table. 

“Y/N! Are you ok,” Jenna exclaims from her side of the table as Ric pats me on the back, I put up a thumbs up and try to smile.

“Yep all good. Just,” I cough out a bit more, “went down the wrong pipe. Don’t mind me.”

Even though I almost choked, Elijah still hasn’t moved his hand from mine. Instead, his fingers have begun tracing shapes into my skin. I know I should feel disgusted, but I can’t seem to want to move his hand away. He looks at me momentarily as if to check I’m ok. To which I send him a small nod. This in return makes him smile and grab a hold of my hand more firmly now.

Damon's standing distracts me momentarily, “Does anyone care for some cognac? I have a bottle I’ve been saving for ages.”

God, me, please.

“None for me, thanks. Nine bottles of wine is my limit,” Alaric says as he downs yet another glass of wine. Jesus dude, try water sometime. 

This has everyone standing from the table. Ok then, guess I’m done eating. 

“The gentleman should take their drinks in the study,” Anna says. 

“How 1950s of you Alice,” I smile at her sarcastically.

“My name is Andie,” She says back.

“Is that not what I said,” I smile at her as I walk past her into the study. I don’t even want to go in here with them but I’m doing it to stand on principle. And that I’m kind of an asshole. But that’s not my fault since I was awoken this morning before I was able to get my full 13 hours of shut eye.

—

My fingers graze the dozens of books I walk by as Damon and Elijah converse behind me. It surprises me that Damon has so many books, when he’s so dumb. Weird. 

“Are these Stefan’s?”

Damon spares me a moment's glance, “No, they’re mine.”

I hum. Weird. Maybe he just doesn’t have comprehension skills.

“So, let me guess, in the addition to the moonstone, the doppelganger, the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe… You need to find this witch burial ground.”

“Because I feel as though we’ve grown so close, Damon,” Elijah’s words have me chuckling as I flip through a book that seems to be at least one hundred years old, “I’ll tell you yes. Do you know where it is?”

“Maybe,” Damon’s answer has Elijah walking over to him, “Tell me why it’s so important.”

“We’re not that close.”

Damon getting rejected has me snorting which catches Elijah’s attention as he smiles up to me. He notices the book I have in my hands and speaks again to Damon.

“It’s quite a collection you have here. It is a funny thing about books. Before they existed people actually had memories.”

I go to make a snarky comment at Elijah’s words but Ric comes storming into the study. 

“Gentlemen,” I clear my throat and Ric looks at me, “And Y/N. We forgot about dessert.”

Addison comes over to Elijah and raises a hand for him to take, which has a nasty feeling starting in my gut. But before it goes too far Elijah turns to me instead and reaches out his own hand, “Y/N.”

I have to fight back a snort as we walk by Amelia Bedelia as Elijah leads me into the dining room where Jenna is.  

“Sorry, guys, dessert is taking longer than I thought,” Jenna’s words have me physically deflating, “I usually just unwrap food.”

Elijah leads me to a chair and moves it so I can sit down. He sits next to me and Audrey sits across from us. 

“So, I know this is a social thing but I, I would really love to ask you some more questions about the work that you’re doing here,” She asks Elijah who agrees. I’m quite interested in what he’s going to say since he’s created this big lie surrounding, Elijah Smith.

“Great,” She continues as Damon enters the room, “Oh, that’s so great. Ric, would you do me a favor and grab the notebook out of my bag?”

She instructs Ric as Elijah’s hand finds its way back to my hand.

“Elijah, did John tell you that he’s Elena’s uncle/father?’’

Damon’s question has me sitting up right.

“Huh?!”

I look between Damon and the balding man next to me and wonder how he was able to produce a girl as pretty as Elena. Also now I’m pissed and kind of sad no one has told me this before.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” Even Elijah knows?!

“Of course, she hates him, so there’s absolutely no need to keep him on the endangered species list.”

Now I don’t feel bad for thinking he looked like Charlie Brown earlier. 

Adeline says something to Ric but now my full focus is on Elijah's fingers which are now grazing up and down my hand that lays on my thigh.

I can hear Dead Beat saying something to Elijah but the words won’t focus as I try to calm my breathing. Elijah’s deep voice enters my ears as I hear him threatening the two men but the soft touching hasn’t gone away. 

I’m almost comforted by the feeling now until the once soothing feeling is replaced by his hand crushing my thigh. My yells are mixed with what I’ve just now realized are Elijah’s as he crunches up in pain. A loud scream escapes my lips as I see a dagger protruding from Elijah’s back and can only watch in horror and pain as Elijah’s once soft and light skin turns to grey and veining flesh. 

I blink rapidly as everyone moves around me but all I can focus on is Elijah’s dead body. Dead. Elijah’s dead. Oh god. 

I feel someone grab my upper arm and drag me out of my seat, “What’s wrong with you?”

My breathing halts. My vision goes black and, my body hits the floor. 

[soulofapatrick]

I Like Your Mind - Edward Cullen x female reader

Summary: As soon as you meet Edward, you're both drawn to each other with an intensity you never expected

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: None

Y/N’s POV

I step into the Cullen house, my heart racing in my chest, and my mind filled with a mixture of fear and fascination. Bella has brought me here, introducing me to the family of her new boyfriend - Jasper Hale - and I can hardly believe where I find myself. I know their secret, the one they’ve been hiding from the world, the fact they’re vampires. And I know Edward can read minds which makes the whole situation even more daunting. But, as Bella races off to find Jasper, I’m left alone I the living room, taking in the stunning surroundings. 

The Cullens’ house is unlike any place I’ve ever seen. The air is heavy with an unspoken history, and everything within is both timeless and modern. A grand piano rests against one wall, a dark mahogany masterpiece, and the soft notes of a melody linger in the air, a testament to the musical talents of the family. On the opposite wall, a massive bookshelf houses an impressive collection of novels and ancient texts. Their spines form a spectrum of human knowledge, artfully arranged. 

My gaze drifts to the floor-to-ceiling windows that frame the room, offering a breathtaking view of the dense, ancient forest that surrounds the house. The trees stand tall and proud, their branches intertwined like guardians, protecting the Cullens from prying eyes. The afternoon sun filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows that dance across the polished wooden floors. 

As my eyes linger on the tranquil forest, my imagination takes flight. I envision myself running through the woods, feeling the cool, damp earth beneath my feet. The leaves would crunch softly with each step, and the intoxicating scent of pine and damp earth would fill my senses. My heart would race, and a rush of adrenaline would surge through me as I lose myself in the untamed beauty of the wilderness. But, what captivates me the most is the idea of running through the forest in the rain. The thought of raindrops falling like liquid diamonds from the heavens, pelting the leaves and creating a gentle, rhythmic melody, sends a shiver of delight down my spine. In my daydream, I am drenched, my clothes clinging to my skin as I twirl and leap through the woods, liberated and carefree.

The rain washes away all my worries and fears, leaving only the exhilaration of the moment. It's as if the world, with all its complexities and complications, has melted away, leaving only the simplicity and purity of the rain-soaked forest. It's a feeling of utter peace, a sense of being one with nature and the world, a sensation I've longed to experience again. 

Lost in the serenity of my daydream, I sense a subtle presence to my right. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and a strange but not unwelcome shiver runs down my spine. Slowly, I turn my head to see one of the Cullen brothers standing there, a striking figure with sharp, chiseled features. He exudes an air of quiet strength and confidence, and I can't help but admire his physical appearance.

As I take in his feature, I quickly realise that this isn’t Jasper, as Bella would undoubtedly be with him if he were here. Besides, Jasper is known for his blond hair, which contrasts with the dark brunette locks of the Cullen brother beside me. His eyes, however, remain a shimmering gold, and their intensity is captivating. 

Going over Bella’s description, I recall that she mentioned Emmett to be big and buff. Emmett is tall and muscular. He has dark curly hair and dimpled cheeks. Despite his intimidating appearance, he is light-hearted and carefree. This man in front of me is almost quite the opposite with perfect and angular high cheekbones, strong jawline, a straight nose, and full lips causing my heart to quicken with a sudden realisation. In a hushed voice, I tentatively ask, “Edward?” 

The name hangs in the air between us, my uncertainty evident in the way I speak his name. The Cullen brother gives a small nod, his eyes holding a hint of amusement and there’s a small smile on his pretty lips as he says, “Hello.” His voice is a velvet whisper that sends a shiver down my spine. My cheeks heat up in response, and I can’t help but feel flustered by his presence. Turning my face away from him, I gaze out at the enchanting forest, using the breathtaking view to regain my composure. 

But just as I start to calm my racing heart, I sense his movement. Edward is moving closer, somewhat hesitantly as if he’s scared to do so but he moves so close I can feel the coolness of his chest against my back. The physical proximity is both thrilling and nerve-wracking, and I can’t help but wonder what his intention are as I continue to look out at the tranquil forest. 

The peaceful silence in the room is broken by Edward’s soft voice, barely above a whisper, “I like your mind,” he admits, his words sending a rush of warmth through me, “It’s quiet.” 

His words wash over me like a gentle caress, and I can’t deny the intrigue of his interest in my mind. It’s a compliment I could never have anticipated, coming from a vampire who can hear the thoughts of others. The intimacy of this moment is palpable, and I can sense the internal struggle within him, as if he’s torn between his desire to touch me and the realisation that we’ve only just met. 

Despite my rational thoughts screaming at me to maintain my distance, I surrender to the magnetic pull of Edward Cullen. My back leans into his cool, sculpted chest, and the sensation of his icy hands on my hips sends a shiver of anticipation coursing through me. It's as if the enchantment of the Cullen house, the breathtaking view of the forest, and Edward's irresistible presence have combined to create a spell that I am unable, and unwilling, to break. 

Closing my eyes, I allow myself to become completely enveloped in everything Edward. I’m hyperaware of how he feels behind me, the firmness of his chest pressed against my back, the subtle rise and fall of his breath against my neck as if it’s a force of habit for him despite vampires lack of need to breathe. His scent, a delicate blend of lilac, honey and sunshine, fills my senses and intoxicates me, wrapping me in a warm, inviting embrace. 

The moment feels intensely romantic, the air electric with the unspoken connection between us. I know that Edward can read my thoughts and perceive my view of him, and in this vulnerable instant, I choose not to resist. I grant him access tot he unfiltered depths of my desire, allowing him to see and feel the passion that simmers beneath the surface. 

The tension in the room crackles, the rain outside intensifying as if mirroring the fervour building within us. It's a clandestine dance of two souls drawn together by an unexplainable force. In this silent, electrifying embrace, I become an open book for Edward, my thoughts and desires laid bare, and I can only wonder what he'll make of the desires that race through my mind like wildfire

With a slow and deliberate movement, Edward turns me to face him, his eyes open and unguarded. They flicker with a hint of vulnerability, as if he, too, is uncertain of the depth of this connection. His gaze drops to my lips, and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin as he hovers close. His fingers twirl my hair around them, an intimate gesture that feels like an attempt to memorise every part of me that he can reach. The air crackles with anticipation as I hold my breath, my heart pounding in my chest, The world outside seems to fade away, leaving only the two of us in this electrifying moment. 

Edward’s gaze remains locked on mine, a silent promise of the depths of emotions and desire that lie beneath the surface. In the hushed room, our shared anticipation and vulnerability create an electric tension that’s impossible to ignore. His lips are tantalisingly close, and I can feel the coolness of his breath as he hovers near. It’s as if he’s about to kiss me, his intentions clear in the smouldering depths of his golden eyes. But he hesitates, his voice barely a whisper as he mumbles something about not being able to stop once he starts, a confession laden with both longing and restraint. 

Unable to resist any longer, I tangle my fingers in his tousled hair, an intimate gesture that communicates my desire and intent. With a gentle, yet urgent push, I guide his face the rest of the way down until his lips finally meet mine. 

As our lips meet in a hesitant and guarded kiss, a complex swirl of emotions and desires floods the space between us. Edward, despite his initial restraint, can’t help but respond to the fiery connection we share. His lips, cool and soft, brush against mine with a caution born of a lifetime of self-control. The kiss begins with a tentative exploration, as if he’s testing the boundaries of this newfound intimacy. 

The initial hesitancy slowly gives way to a growing intensity, and I can sense his need for more. His grip on me tightens ever so slightly, fingers digging into my hips, a delicate balance between desire and restraint. His response is careful, as if he’s constantly aware of his vampire strength, wary of causing any harm to me. The kiss deepens, his passion building, and the chemistry between us becomes an irresistible force that pushes us further into uncharted territory. 

With a slow and deliberate movement, he begins to walk me backwards, his lips never leaving mine, until my back makes contact with the cool glass of the windows, drawing a gasp from me. It has Edward smiling softly, golden eyes a little glazed as if in a trance of disbelief this is happening before his cold nose bumps my neck, making my pulse jump. I should be scared by how close he is to my jugular but I don’t feel any fear or anything, especially when Edward places a soft kiss on my jugular, a silent acknowledgement of the temptation that throbs beneath my skin. His lips are cold, but their touch is gentle, sending shivers of desire coursing through me. 

My hands tangle back in his soft locks, guiding his lips back to mine, their coldness a stark contrast to the burning passion that courses between us. In that moment, I am both vulnerable and empowered, willingly allowing myself to be drawn further into this intoxicating dance of desire. 

Each kiss makes me feel more alive, more connected to a world I never knew existed. The world outside may be drenched in rain, but in this electrifying embrace, a different kind of storm rages, a tempest of emotions and desires that we can’t control. His lips, cool and velvety soft, meet mine over and over again in a symphony of fire and ice, a fusion of elements that ignite a burning desire deep within me. 

His body presses against mine, a solid and unyielding presence that leaves me feeling both vulnerable and empowered. The contrast between his cool skin and the heat of my own sets my senses ablaze. As we deepen our connection, the room seems to spin around us, and I lose myself in the feeling of everything Edward. 

The room is charged with our passion, and I can feel it deep in my core. Every kiss is like a secret, a stolen moment in a world that is entirely our own. We lose track of time and space, our lips locked in an intimate dance that only intensifies the fever that has drawn us together in the first place. 

But then, like a bolt of lightning in our own private storm, I hear Bella’s joyful squeal. Edward pulling away from me, and I let my face fall into the warmth of his chest, overwhelmed by embarrassment. As I hide from the world, I can feel the soft rumble of amused laughter in Edward’s chest, a sound that both soothes and electrifies me in equal measure. 

“Fuck yeah!” Bells shrieks with joy and I flip her off over Edward’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around me, stifling a laugh as he can probably hear all of my silent insults and embarrassed thoughts thrown Bella’s way. 

“It’s okay.” He murmurs, fingers carding through my hair and I just hum, letting my eyes flutter closed in contentment. I don’t care how quick this is happening, all I know is I need Edward and no-one else so I’ll live with the embarrassment if it means I can have Edward. 

“You have me.” 

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

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Twilight Masterlist

[just-some-user-hunny]

For hellsings request n bit of a history buff since there are legit living descendents of Vlad the impaler

How would Alucard and Integra be during international meetings with a royal who is the last direct bloodline of when he was human before being a vampire, seeing that the descendent is quite shy but very responsible with the country they are ruling

Oh my gosh I think this is the first hellsing request I’ve ever received! I’m so happy😭💕

Ooohhh that’s such a cool idea!!! Alucard would probably be so taken back at the realisation that he has actual blood descendants, someone related to him, family, that he would probably become very protective and probably fatherly over them. He is conflicted however- he is an incredibly complex person, and he feels disconnected from being human (he was arguably just as much a tyrant when he was alive as he is as a monster) that he’d internally struggle a little with the concept of having something so mortal and fragile connected to the last few pieces of him that remained after he turned, as if they exist as a reflection of himself when he was young and mortal (painful memories he doesn’t like thinking about), so he’d certainly be a complicated mix of hovering protective father, and a dismissive shadow until he at least works through his own internal feelings about them.

However, seeing them rule well would make him proud. He was a certainly memorable and glorious figure in history (mostly for his gory actions), so to see the last of his blood doing well would make him feel at least a little accomplished. Something good came from him, this person is the last shred of humanity and light to come from his blood.

This little meek thing is of his blood? He’d tease, playfully of course.

Integra is intrigued. Both by your mere existence, and of Alucards reaction. Her eyes would probably be on her hound the moment you introduced yourself, curious of his reaction. She’s surprised- but pleasantly so. She’s interested to see you live up to the name of the infamous impaler.

[seongwars]

ardently | iii

Pairing: Viscount!Choi San x Countess!Reader AU: non-idol | regency au Summary: After falling victim to one of Choi San’s many wagers, you vowed to a life of eternal spinsterhood. However, when the Choi family faces the imminent threat of losing their estate, the very man you swore you would never forgive re-enters your life.  Word Count: 6.5K Warnings: yeosang's corny jokes, one swear word, historical inaccuracies (sorry again history buffs)

Fic Masterlist

a/n: finally, more plot!

Mornings at the Kang estate were typically quiet, a gentle hush settling over the grounds as dawn cast a soft light over the gardens and pathways. Peace reigned in those early hours—until, without fail, Duke Jeong Yunho would arrive with his boundless energy and unfaltering cheer. 

Though you had grown accustomed to the Duke’s frequent, and often untimely, appearances, the sight of him stepping down from his carriage at such an early hour still managed to catch you off guard.

Moments later, Yunho appeared at the threshold, looking every bit the gentleman with his neatly pressed coat and bright smile. He greeted you with a slight bow, the usual warmth in his gaze as he held out a parcel wrapped in fine paper.

"You do know it's not calling hours, don't you?" you muttered, wondering what had possessed him to arrive with such a sunny disposition at such an ungodly hour. It was only ten in the morning. 

"And here I thought I might actually receive a warm welcome. I came across something I thought might interest you."

You narrowed your eyes at him, immediately suspicious. The last time he had uttered those words, you’d been subjected to an encounter that haunted you to this day. 

"The last time you came across something you thought might interest me," you replied, eyeing the package warily, "it flew out of your pocket and onto my face."

Yunho’s grin widened, clearly pleased with himself. "Oh, you mean the toad?" he teased, utterly unrepentant. 

"I think it showed you more affection than I ever could. It really liked you, you know."

"It attacked me, Yunho."

"It befriended you," he corrected with a mischievous wink. "You're terrible at reading the intentions of amphibians."

You gave him a skeptical glance before cautiously unwrapping the parcel. As the paper fell away, your skepticism turned to surprise. Nestled inside were beautifully bound sheets of music, their once-vibrant edges slightly worn, as if they had traveled through time itself. The faded ink on the covers hinted at their age, while intricate notations in elegant Italian script decorated each page.

Your breath caught as you gingerly flipped through the compositions, your fingers tracing the delicate notes written by a hand long gone. The music was intricate, sophisticated—far more than anything you had ever expected from one of Yunho’s usual "finds."

“Where on earth did you find this?” you asked, marveling at the notes.

Yunho’s playful demeanor softened as he watched your reaction, clearly pleased with himself. 

“A merchant from Italy was docked at the port,” he explained, leaning casually against the doorframe. 

“We chatted about his goods, and the conversation eventually turned to music. He mentioned he had a collection of rare compositions from Venice—many of them passed down through his family. Apparently, his great-grandfather had been a patron of the arts, collecting works from Italian composers during their prime.”

He paused, his smile widening. “Naturally, I couldn’t resist asking to see them.”

You raised an eyebrow, still flipping through the pages. “And you just happened to strike up a conversation about music with a merchant?”

“Well,” Yunho admitted with a sheepish grin, “I may have mentioned I was looking for some rare items for a friend who appreciates these sorts of things. He showed me his collection, and when I saw the quality, I couldn’t leave without bringing some of it back for you.”

You stared at him, speechless. Yunho wasn’t typically one for grand gestures like this, especially without some sort of joke attached. 

“These are…remarkable,” you said softly, glancing back down at the parchment. 

"Well?" Yunho pressed, jerking his head toward the pianoforte with a gleam in his eyes. 

"I didn’t go through the trouble of charming a merchant just for you to stand there admiring the notes."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling the corners of your lips twitch upward. "And here I thought you brought it over to practice your own skills," you quipped, folding your arms.

Before Yunho could retort, a shadow flickered at the edge of your vision. Your mother stood at the doorway, hands clasped in front of her, her gaze keen as it traveled from you to Yunho with an unmistakable glimmer of interest.

“Yunho, how lovely to see you,” she greeted, but her tone carried a hint of something more curious. 

"Lady Kang," he replied smoothly, the slightest hint of a bow gracing his posture. "It’s always a pleasure."

“And I see you’ve brought Y/N a gift?”

Yunho hesitated, his hand drifting to the back of his neck. “Ah, yes,” he began, voice shifting to a more formal tone, “just something I thought she’d appreciate.”

Your mother gave a knowing look, her smile widening. “Oh, I’m certain she will! Though it’s not every day a young man brings a lady a gift with such…intention.”

“Mother, please don't.”

You could feel your mother’s amusement bubbling beneath her calm exterior. She had always liked Yunho, perhaps a little too much sometimes. The hint of matchmaking in her tone was unmistakable, though she never said it outright. Instead, she turned to you, her voice light. 

“It’s so sweet of the Duke to bring you such thoughtful gifts. One might think…” She trailed off with a raised brow, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

“Oh, is this the part where Yunho tries to convince everyone he’s not courting you?” Yeosang deadpanned, strolling into the foyer with casual nonchalance.

He glanced between the three of you—your mother’s raised brow, Yunho’s flustered expression, and your obvious discomfort—before his eyes landed on the stack of sheet music in your hands.

Yunho shot him a look of pure exasperation only to earn a shrug from his long time friend. You couldn’t help but snort at his mortified expression, grateful for the well-timed interruption. 

“Why don’t I have the maids set up tea in the garden?” your mother suggested, a sly glint in her eye.

“Yes, an excellent idea,” Yeosang agreed, clasping his hands with an all-too-innocent smile. He managed to keep his amusement at bay, though his gaze flickered briefly to Yunho, clearly enjoying his friend’s flustered state.

“Then it’s settled,” she declared, her eyes twinkling with unmistakable mischief.

⋆

The sun was gentle in the garden, casting warm patches of light through the leafy branches that stretched over the table. Your mother’s idea for tea outdoors was a success, with the scent of blooming roses in the air and a soft breeze carrying just the right amount of summer warmth. 

Yeosang, predictably, had gravitated toward the lemon cakes, nibbling on them with a contented sigh as though savoring every bite. You watched him, smiling to yourself, as he nearly stacked three cakes on his plate, an oblivious bliss on his face that somehow felt entirely on-brand.

“Remember the time you thought you could impress Lim Sara by climbing that tree in the garden?” your brother began. 

“You got stuck halfway up and had to be rescued by the gardener while Ms. Lim looked on in horror.”

Yunho’s face was flushed, but he was laughing too, his usual composure softened by the memories.  

“I thought it would be heroic!” he defended, voice muffled but carrying a hint of laughter. “How was I supposed to know climbing wasn’t my strong suit?”

“Is that why you turned to trading?” you laughed. “No trees to conquer, just ledgers and contracts.”

Yunho’s gaze lingered on you a moment longer than usual, a warmth in his eyes that felt almost…tender. He cleared his throat, catching himself, and shifted back into the ease of conversation.

“Before I forget, I’ll be hosting a hunt at my family’s estate in a few weeks,” he announced, his gaze moving between you and Yeosang, though his smile was still aimed in your direction. 

“I expect you both to join me.”

“Oh, absolutely. I’ve been waiting to remind you of my superior aim,” Yeosang chimed in, smirking as he picked up another lemon cake. “Just try to keep up, Duke.”

A faint smile lingered on Yunho’s face, but then, almost as if in passing, he asked, “By the way, how is Mr. Choi?”

“Haunting our grounds like a ghost,” you muttered before you could stop yourself, a tinge of bitterness slipping into your tone.

“Y/N,” Yeosang warned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gave you a subtle shake of his head. 

It had been a few weeks since San’s accident. He’d been recovering in the guest room, and you’d barely spoken to him since your last encounter in the hallway. Every time you glimpsed at his door, a wave of apprehension washed over you, followed closely by a stubborn urge to look away, as if doing so could banish his presence from your mind. 

I think the world of you.

When he looked at you with those pleading eyes, you knew better than to believe it. His words were nothing more than empty pleasantries, meant to charm, meant to smooth over whatever fractures he’d left behind.

It was the sort of thing he could say without a second thought, words crafted to keep you wondering, lingering, trapped in a net of his own design. And yet… somehow, they’d managed to worm their way under your defenses, lingering in the quiet of your room and refusing to let you sleep. 

A scoff slipped past your lips, willing the thought away, only for it to worm its way back in. Maybe he had changed, or maybe this was simply a new tactic, one meant to keep you doubting your own instincts. But you weren’t foolish enough to be taken in again.

That night, you clutched your pillow to your chest and sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. A spinster’s life—a world unmarred by romantic turmoil—wasn’t that the fate you’d resigned yourself to? 

Yes, you’d be content, filling your days with the peaceful pursuits that brought you joy. Books and music would keep you company, their worlds vast and vivid, painting colors far richer than those society’s courtships could provide. You’d have the steadfast loyalty of a dog by your side, the soft warmth of companionship without the encumbrance of expectation. Your own home, a haven of solitude and independence, would be yours to keep.

And maybe one day, you would travel, explore new lands beyond the constraints of the ton, tasting freedom unchained by marital duty or obligation.

At least, that’s what you told yourself, hugging your pillow a little tighter, as if that small gesture might steady the quiet, yet stubborn flutter of longing that refused to be stilled. 

Somehow, against all reason, your heart continued to betray you. No matter how many times you’d sworn it off, how resolutely you told yourself that you’d no use for love, a glimmer of something softer—something almost hopeful—would creep in.

“I didn’t take Mr. Choi to be such a recluse,” Yunho commented, bringing his teacup to his lips. 

“He might be avoiding company now,” you replied, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from slipping through. “But it’s only a matter of time before he returns, likely more insufferable than before.”

Yunho chuckled, setting down his drink with a soft clink, but his smile seemed to fade a fraction as he studied you. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, and you caught a glint of concern beneath his curiosity—a silent question, perhaps.

“Enough about San—his accident is far too grim a topic for such a sunny afternoon.” He gestured around at the blooming garden, where the roses nodded lazily in the breeze. 

“No need to cloud such a pleasant gathering with talk of his sulking.”

You stifled a small laugh, grateful for the shift in conversation. “An excellent point,” you agreed, tracing your finger along the edge of your teacup.

“Now, about that hunt,” he continued, his tone brightening considerably.

“You'll need some fair practice if you’re to keep up with me.”

“I assure you, my skills are quite adequate. But worry not, your grace, I’ll try not to embarrass you,” you replied, smiling over the rim of your teacup. 

"Is that so? It appears I've underestimated my company," he said, his smile warm as though your confidence amused and pleased him all at once.

But as you took another sip, your gaze drifted over the garden, lingering just a bit too long on the pathway leading toward the manor. Here, in the company of friends, surrounded by laughter, you ease just enough to breathe freely. Perhaps, for a time, you could forget the questions clouding your mind—the ones about San and the strange ache that sometimes emerged with the mere thought of him.

San stared out the window of the guest room, the first light of dawn casting a faint glow over the courtyard below. Sleep had eluded him, leaving him tangled in memories that seemed determined to haunt him, replaying over and over in his mind. 

He could still see the way you’d looked at him–guarded, assessing his sincerity, and ultimately finding him lacking. His heart raced unsteadily, each beat a painful reminder of everything he’d done wrong as you walked away from him. 

What if he’d said too much? What if he’d said too little? He wanted to convey his remorse, to strip himself bare of all pretense, and let you see him as he truly was—not the arrogant rake who’d made you the center of a careless bet, but the man who wanted nothing more than to be worthy of the chance to make it up to you.

He knew you weren’t exactly thrilled to have him lingering around the estate, considering the awkwardness between you two. But despite your best efforts to avoid him, your paths seemed to cross constantly.

One morning, you attempted to slip quietly into the library for a few hours of solitude. But as you turned the corner, nose buried in a book you’d been meaning to finish, you collided—quite literally—with San. 

He was precariously balancing a towering stack of books under one arm, and the impact sent both of you stumbling. His books tumbled to the floor in a noisy cascade, and the two of you scrambled to gather them up, both muttering apologies, both avoiding eye contact.

You also had the misfortune of encountering him in one of the least dignified settings possible–right after a ride across the grounds. 

You tried to walk past him as casually as possible, pretending you hadn’t just emerged from the stables looking as though you’d been dragged through every muddy patch on the estate. You kept your eyes fixed ahead, hoping he’d simply nod in greeting and continue on his way.

No such luck. San’s steps slowed as he approached, his eyes taking in your windblown hair, your riding jacket streaked with dust, and the scuffed boots that had seen better days. 

His expression was uncharacteristically soft and curious, and the subtle rise of his brow suggested he wanted to say something, yet he remained silent, as if he, too, was caught off guard by the moment.

Your face warmed under his attention and you stiffened, willing yourself not to look flustered even as his gaze lingered. This was already humiliating enough without him turning it into an opportunity to tease you further.

Without thinking, you spun on your heel, aiming to escape before he could witness any more of your disheveled state. The muddy boots scuffed loudly against the floor, but you didn’t care; you wanted to put as much distance as possible between you both. 

At dinner, you found yourself regrettably seated beside him, your mother’s handiwork evident in her suspiciously delighted expression. San, for his part, was equally uncomfortable. He cleared his throat, a small, polite cough that seemed to signal his lack of readiness for whatever tension your mother had created between you. 

“The duck looks wonderful,” Yeosang piped up suddenly, his voice robotic in his attempt to break the silence. His eyes darted from you to San and back again, his expression painfully earnest. 

“A true masterpiece of poultry. You could say it’s egg-squisite.”

“Yeosang, dear,” your mother began with her tone that she reserved for moments of social critique, “perhaps it’s best if you let San and Y/N find their own…conversational rhythm.”

“You’re right mother, I wouldn’t want to duck into their affairs.”

Yeosang, clearly thrilled with himself, leaned back in his chair with an insufferably smug look, adding fuel to the already blazing fire your mother had set between you and San. 

⋆

San’s gaze followed you as you precariously hoisted yourself onto the edge of the fountain. He hadn't intended to stay in his room for so long, but there was something about seeing you alone in that quiet space, where the world felt distant and softer. It was a place where you were unreachable, yet somehow, he found himself drawn closer every time.

He knew he should give you space, especially after everything that had transpired a few weeks ago. The memory of that day haunted him—the way he had followed you down the corridor, desperate to explain himself. His words had been clumsy, tangled in his own frustration and the weight of misunderstandings. 

His breath caught as he realized how intently he was watching you, heart betraying him with a familiar flutter he had no control over. But as you moved through the garden, the delicate sheet music in your hands, his resolve faltered. He watched as you sat at the table, your movements so careful and precise as you set the delicate pages near the edge.

“What in the world…?” San muttered under his breath, his brow furrowing as he peered more closely. He could see your fingers stretching out toward something. Before he could make sense of the situation, his legs were already moving, carrying him out of the drawing room, down the stairs, and out the door. 

After seeing Yunho off with your brother, you were eager to fetch the sheet music he had gifted you. The delicate weight of the sheet music he had gifted you felt almost sacred in your hands, each page carefully filled with handwritten notes, as if you could almost hear their melodies in its silence. 

But just as you settled into the peaceful moment, a sudden gust of wind whipped through the garden, tugging at your hair and clothes and pulling the fragile pages from the table. 

Outside, you were oblivious to San’s growing panic. Your focus was entirely on the lost sheet music, drifting just out of reach. The wind had betrayed you, and now the last page of the composition was gliding lazily across the fountain’s surface. With a huff, you leaned further over the edge, teetering dangerously close to plunging into the water.

“Oh fuck me,” you grumbled, stretching as far as your arm would go without toppling over. The paper flirted with your fingertips, taunting you with its slow, inevitable descent into the fountain’s depths. 

“Y/N! What do you think you’re doing?” 

San sounded utterly scandalized, as if you were hanging from a cliff rather than a fountain ledge. 

Startled, you turned to face him, wide-eyed. The moment of distraction cost you–your arms flailed, and before you could catch yourself, you tumbled forward, plunging into the cold water with a loud, humiliating splash. Water sloshed over the edges as you struggled for a brief moment before finally sitting up in the fountain, thoroughly drenched and utterly defeated.

San’s eyes widened in horror as he skidded to a stop, staring at you, sopping wet and dazed, sitting in the middle of the fountain. His concern overtook everything else, and without thinking, he jumped in after you, the water soaking through his clothes instantly as he rushed to your side.

“Are you alright?” His voice was breathless with concern as he knelt beside you, his good hand hovering just over your shoulder, unsure if he should touch you. 

Blinking up at him, you brushed the soaked strands of hair from your eyes, meeting his gaze with a flicker of surprise. His shirt clung to him, dripping from his hasty attempt to save you, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. For a heartbeat, you forgot about the ruined sheet music and your own disheveled state, captivated by how breathtakingly handsome he looked just then—his guard down, his focus entirely on you.

Curse him—and curse yourself, too, for noticing. How maddening it was that a face like his could soften even his sharp, infuriating personality, leaving you momentarily spellbound despite every fault you’d sworn to hold against him.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended. 

“You fell headfirst into the fountain!” San replied, his words spilling out too quickly, flustered and breathless. His brow furrowed, cheeks flushed. 

“I thought—you might have hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled.

"Right… good," he muttered, clearly trying to mask his embarrassment as he bent down to retrieve a single, waterlogged sheet of music that had drifted past. 

You glanced at him, biting back a comment as you caught sight of his flushed face, water dripping down from his hair onto his brow. The sight of him, now a complete mess, tugged at something within you, though you weren’t sure if it was anger, amusement, or something else entirely.

San cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly as he looked around, clearly unsure of what to do with himself now that he was standing knee-deep in the fountain with you. 

“I’m… I’m sorry about your notes,” he stammered, the words slipping out in an awkward, clumsy rush. His fingers tightened around the soaked page, but the ink had already bled, leaving only faint, dark rivulets smudging across the once-perfect sheet music. 

“I-I’m sure Yunho will understand.” 

A pang of guilt surprised you—you hadn’t expected to feel bad for him. But the moment Yunho’s name left your lips, you noticed the subtle shift in San’s expression. His shoulders stiffened, and something unreadable flickered in his eyes before he managed to mask it.

There was a beat of silence, the awkwardness hanging between you as you sat there, dripping wet and too close for comfort. You moved away slightly, crossing your arms against the cold water seeping into your clothes. 

“My Lady! Mr. Choi!” your head maid, Anna, called as she rushed across the lawn, a small battalion of maids and footmen following in her wake with towels bundled in their arms.

You exchanged a quick, sheepish look with San as the entire staff seemed to descend upon you both, determined to undo the mess of your unplanned dip in the fountain. 

"Good heavens, what a state! Mr. Choi, we can't have you catching a chill!” she fussed as one of the footmen wrapping a thick towel around San’s shoulders.

“We need to get you both dried and respectable again before anyone else sees.” 

She waved another maid forward, who quickly stepped in to brush stray droplets from your dress as you tried not to look too mortified.

San glanced sideways at you, his initial look of mortification easing into a wry, self-conscious smile. He held out the crumpled sheet music, his gesture hesitant, almost apologetic, as if hoping this simple offering might somehow make amends.

When you reached for it, his fingers brushed against yours, lingering for just a heartbeat too long—a subtle, tentative touch that seemed to test the unspoken boundary between you.

Without a word, you accepted the damp page, and for the first time, the distance between you had softened, shrinking ever so slightly.

The Jeong Estate was as magnificent as ever, its manicured lawns rolling in lush waves of green, punctuated by bursts of color from sprawling gardens that seemed to stretch endlessly around the grounds. But today, all that beauty was secondary; your focus lay elsewhere, drawn inexorably toward the stables to prepare Darcy for the hunt. 

As you made your way along the gravel path, the soft crunch underfoot blended with the distant clatter of hooves. A sharp murmur drifted over from the main courtyard, where guests were gathering for tea.

“It looks like the wallflower has made an appearance,” a voice sneered from behind a fan.

“Is it true the Duke paid her a visit?” another whispered, their tone half incredulous, half pitying, as if the thought of you being granted a visit from someone as high-profile as Yunho were an oddity in itself.

A soft scoff followed. “I pity him. Can you imagine being saddled with a wife so…ordinary?” 

The whispers stung, each one sharper than the last, but you had no intention of ignoring them. Pausing deliberately, you turned just enough to catch their attention, leveling them with a sharp, challenging look.

“Ms. Hwang,” you began, voice steady and biting, “if you spent half as much time minding your own business as you do discussing mine, perhaps you’d have more to offer a husband than idle gossip.”

A hush fell over the group as a few faces flushed in embarrassment, others quickly averting their eyes and murmuring with sidelong glances. The moment stretched, each second more uncomfortable for them, yet you held your ground, unbothered and unwavering.

“That is, of course, if any of you were to secure one,” a voice added smoothly.

You whipped around, surprised to find San approaching. Despite the sling still securing his injured arm close to his chest, his posture was relaxed, his expression unfazed as he directed a pointed smirk at the group. 

“Odd how those who contribute so little always seem to have the most to say,” he continued, his tone casual but cutting, as if dismissing them was hardly worth his time. 

The whispers died completely, the silence thick and heavy as the crowd shrank back, some even turning to pretend interest in the flowerbeds or silverware, clearly hoping to escape any further notice.

San shifted his gaze back to you, his smirk softening into a gentle smile. “Seems some people needed a reminder of their place,” he murmured.

“Thank you,” you replied, barely meeting his gaze, hoping the faint tremor in your voice would convey the sincerity you couldn’t quite bring yourself to express fully.

The weight of their prying stares bore against your back as you turned swiftly toward the stables, heart beating a little faster. As you approached the stable yard, the familiar hum of the estate—murmurs, laughter, the soft clink of silver—faded into the distance.

You were greeted by Darcy’s familiar silhouette, his ears flicking forward in recognition, his coat catching the warm afternoon light in a gleam that felt almost comforting.

"Hello, love," you cooed, reaching out to scratch the spot just behind his ear, the place you knew he liked best. Darcy leaned into your touch, his head bowing in a gesture that felt almost like a hug. 

"You’re the only one I can always count on, aren’t you?"

You slipped him a treat, his muzzle brushed your palm with a gentleness that made you smile.

“…A right mess it was, but we did what we were paid for.”

You froze in place. Your heart skipped a beat, as the clop of heavy boots and a murmur of voices approached. You edged closer to the shadows of the stable wall, ducking into Darcy’s stable, but before you could catch a breath, a soft snort sounded right by your ear, followed by a damp, insistent nudge against your shoulder. 

You tried to brush his nose away with a quick wave, but the horse was undeterred. His large, expressive eyes blinked innocently down at you as he pushed his head into your space once more, this time almost knocking you off balance.

“I didn’t expect ‘im to break his arm, though,” came another voice, rough and heavy. “Poor bastard’s lucky it wasn’t worse.”

A third voice chimed in, this one sharp with a nervous edge. “Keep it down, would ya? You want the whole bloody estate to hear?”

They were talking about San. The accident. The stablehands didn’t sound remorseful—only wary, as though they knew they tread dangerous waters. A chill crawled up your spine, and your pulse quickened.

“Aye, well, it’s not like we had much choice, did we?” the first man grumbled. 

“We got paid good coin to add barbs to that saddle and stirrup. Not our business to ask why.”

“I still don’t like it,” the second voice muttered. “If someone finds out…”

“No one’s gonna find out. Just keep your mouth shut, and it’ll be fine.”

Your stomach churned as the truth settled over you—they’d been paid to tamper with San’s riding equipment. This wasn’t an accident at all; someone had intended to harm him.

“C’mon, let’s get back before someone notices we’re missin’.”

You stayed perfectly still as they passed by. Once you were sure they were out of sight, you exhaled shakily, your mind reeling with the weight of what you had just learned.

San’s accident had been deliberate, orchestrated by someone who had paid off the stablehands to sabotage his equipment. The thought of it made your blood boil. Who would do such a thing? And why?

But more importantly…who could you trust now? 

You were conflicted. Part of you wanted to storm up to San and tell him everything, to let him know of the danger he’d narrowly escaped. He deserved to know, didn’t he? But another part of you hesitated, wary of the chaos this might unleash. 

Whoever was behind this wasn’t some petty gossip or rival with a bruised ego; they’d gone to meticulous lengths to cause him harm. If they were willing to do this once, who was to say they wouldn’t try again?

Despite everything—despite the resentment you still harbored toward him for what he’d done to you—you couldn’t ignore this. He had to know he wasn’t simply a victim of chance. He’d been targeted, purposefully and maliciously.

You slipped out of the stables, treading lightly as you moved across the grounds with determination. Every instinct warned against going straight to him, but something stronger drove you forward. He needed to know about the threat lurking in the shadows.

As you rounded the corner of the path, you froze, the words dying on your lips. There, in the golden glow of the setting sun, stood San—and beside him, unmistakably close, was Cho Jini. Her hand rested lightly on his arm as they exchanged low words, their faces uncomfortably close. This encounter was precisely the sort of thing that would set the ton ablaze with scandalous whispers.

You blinked, and then a quiet laugh bubbled up. The Choi’s with their priority and meticulous attention to reputation had finally flung themselves into a scandal at the hands of their very own heir!

For a moment, you entertained the idea of simply backing away, retreating into the shadows to leave them in blissful ignorance of your presence. But then Jini’s eyes locked onto yours, her face paling as if she’d seen a ghost. 

“Ms. Kang!” she gasped, her fan clattering to the ground. “Oh, heavens—please don’t say anything! We weren’t—”

A prickling bitterness settled in your chest as San and Jini jumped apart. Why should it matter so much? you wondered bitterly. 

This was the same San who plunged into a fountain for you, casting aside his dignity in a reckless display of chivalry. The same San who, supposedly, thought the world of you and had defended you against the sharp whispers about your ordinary disposition.

Yet he was the same San who once again slipped effortlessly into the role he knew best—the role that required no self-reflection, no change.

"An unchaperoned meeting with Ms. Cho? You must think rather highly of the ton’s discretion if you believe they wouldn’t make you the centerpiece of their gossip, Mr. Choi," you remarked, watching San shrink beneath your penetrating gaze.

For a moment, his expression faltered, his eyes darting to the ground before he managed to compose himself.  He’d done this before—shrugged off impropriety like a second skin he could slip out of whenever it suited him. And yet, the unmistakable glint of panic that flashed in his eyes told you that this time…this time was different.

This time, he wasn’t in control. This time, his fate was in your hands.

He swallowed, his gaze flitting back to you, softer now, almost pleading.

“Y/N, I—Ms. Kang, please—”

“I’ll keep your indiscretions to myself but...at a cost,” you cut him off, voice low but sharp enough to make him wince. 

Jini’s face drained of color as she clutched her fan, looking between you and San with mounting desperation. 

"Oh, please—Ms. Kang," she stammered, her voice trembling. "You must understand. I never wanted… I had no intention of—"

She shot a furtive glance at San, then took a step forward, lowering her voice to a frantic whisper. 

“I don’t want this—I don’t want to marry him!” Her voice cracked, and she pressed a hand to her chest as if the very thought caused her physical pain. 

“You must believe me! Please—I'll do anything!"

Her pleas echoed in the garden, and you gauged her reaction. She was trembling, her eyes wide and pleading, no trace of affection or longing for San in sight. If anything, she looked like a cornered animal, desperate to escape a fate she hadn’t chosen.

“Anything?” you repeated slowly, voice cool and deliberate. Jini nodded feverishly, clutching her fan tightly as she awaited your response. It was almost laughable how quickly she’d thrown him under the proverbial carriage at the first sign of trouble.

“I have no interest in your secrets, Ms. Cho.” 

You shifted your gaze to San, who looked pale, his mouth opening as if to protest before you cut him off with a quiet, pointed tone. 

“It’s Mr. Choi I want something from.”

Jini looked from you to San, relief flooding her features as she realized she was free of her entanglement. “Thank you—thank you, Ms. Kang.”

Without another word, she turned and all but fled, her skirts swishing in her haste as she disappeared down the garden path.

San's mouth opened and closed in hesitation, his eyes darting around as if seeking an escape. You simply watched him, noticing the slight tremor in his hands, the way his shoulders slumped in defeat. There was something almost pitiful about it—a rare sight of vulnerability in someone who typically wore confidence like a second skin.

“I suppose this wasn’t how you envisioned this evening,” you said dryly, folding your arms. “Though I do pity you—it must be incredibly dull to sit with the rest of the ton, unable to hunt.”

"You must believe me, Y/N. I did not welcome that interaction from Ms. Cho. She approached me out of nowhere, and before I could even make sense of her intentions, you arrived.”

“I know. The poor girl looked like she was about to faint.” But the humor quickly faded, replaced by the weight of what you were about to say.

“There’s something more serious I need to discuss with you.”

Choosing your words carefully, you looked directly at him, hoping he’d understand the gravity of what you were about to say.

“Someone is trying to sabotage you.”

His eyes widened in shock. "Sabotage? What are you talking about?"

You took a steadying breath, keeping your voice calm. “I overheard some of the stablehands talking. They admitted to being paid to tamper with your saddle and other riding equipment. This wasn’t an accident, someone intended for you to get hurt.”

“And you’re certain about this?”

You nodded. “Whoever orchestrated this intended to send a message, be it to you or your family.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips. “Consider this my way of thanking you for retrieving my notes the other day.”

“I appreciate the warning. Truly.” He hesitated, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face.

“But… you haven’t said what you expect in return. You wouldn’t risk telling me this out of mere gratitude, would you?”

“Expect something from you?” You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “I only said that to send Ms. Cho scurrying.” There was a glint of amusement in your eyes you didn’t bother to hide.

“I wouldn’t put much stock in it, honestly. She’s barely nineteen, likely frightened out of her wits at the thought of being trapped in a marriage with someone she hardly knows.” You paused, glancing toward the path Jini had hurried down. 

“In truth, I doubt her heart was in it at all.”

You took a step closer, leaning in just enough to hold his gaze with a playful intensity. 

"But if it troubles you, Mr. Choi, to feel so indebted…" you murmured, letting the words trail off like a subtle tease, "perhaps consider it an open invitation."

You paused, catching the way his brow arched ever so slightly.

"If ever there comes a time I require your… assistance," you let your gaze drift down to his lips before meeting his eyes again, "rest assured, I shall make it known."

You walked away, careful to keep your expression neutral, though beneath the surface a thrill pulsed through you. San’s struggle to maintain his composure had been a sight you’d savor for some time, but even that small triumph was only the beginning.

His breath hitched, though he kept his expression steady. After years of enduring the repetitive flattery and rehearsed charms of the ton, its never-ending cycle of polite rituals and insincere courtesies had become second nature to him.

But it was your quick wit and unpredictable nature that always drew him in and left him captivated. In your presence, he felt free, as if, for once, he wasn’t bound by the silent demands of society, as though he could speak and act as he pleased. In these moments, it struck him how desperately he craved your company. 

He knew it was foolish to allow himself to hope, but if you could ever return his feelings—even a fraction of them—he would give anything, everything, to close the distance between you and repair the rift he had so recklessly created.

For so long, life within the ton had been predictable, stifling in its polite routines and endless facades. You’d learned to navigate it well enough, adapting to the ceaseless tide of polite whispers and idle intrigue. Your patience for it had long worn thin. It was all a game—empty, shallow, and dreadfully dull.

But now, here was something real. Not just petty scandal or trivial gossip, but a matter with depth—a true conspiracy lurking beneath the ton’s polished exterior. And it wasn’t just an idle intrigue; it was an invitation, daring you to uncover its secrets.

Whoever had set their sights on San had unknowingly invited you into the fray, and you fully intended to unravel it.

<< ii | iv >>

taglist: @e3ellie @scuzmunkie

[gureumz]

burn

rating: explicit

member: jungwon

notes: fem!reader, reader is a couple years older than him, acquaintances to lovers, medieval/renaissance (?) royalty au (i made the time period as vague as possible so anywhere from the 1500s to 1700s should be fine i guess), talks of marriage, loss of virginity, unprotected sex

a/n: IMPORTANT! i was hesitant to put this out at first because i know there's tension when it comes to explicit content regarding jungwon, but i didn't make this out to be anything too crazy, so no hard/taboo kinks as i don't feel quite okay writing those for him as of now. i did enjoy writing this piece as i'm a history buff and love the drama. of royal courts so,,,please enjoy!

it was getting too much.

the stares, the "innocent" touches, the silences that followed each strained conversation.

you had been patient. you had been steadfast. you had stood your ground.

but the flicker of desire inside you was slowly catching on, and you know, it would soon be roaring fiercely despite your efforts to tamp it down.

you gather your skirts and trudge on out of the library, knowing the princess would be looking for you, given the length of time you've been away. the hallway is quiet, as you expected. the end of supper time is drawing near, and everyone in the castle would soon retire to their private chambers.

the princess was dining with her family in her father's royal suite, along with a handful of courtiers and ladies-in-waiting, much like yourself. you had excused yourself for a moment under the guise that you were in need of the privy, but in truth, you could not bear to be in the room with him any longer.

he'd been staring, longer than he should be, and you were afraid that someone would take notice.

you had stood behind the princess, curtsying briefly before asking to take your leave. she waved you off without a second thought, though you did not miss the questioning glint in her eye as she did so.

you caught his gaze briefly just before you left.

prince jungwon had smiled in your direction, seemingly amused at your flustered state.

you suddenly blank as you turn a corner, your shoulder colliding with something, causing you to stumble backward. you reach out instinctively to steady yourself, just as a hand grabs you by the arm.

"my lady," a voice croons in your ear, and you feel your dinner churning inside you.

you straighten yourself out, smoothing down the wrinkles in your dress as you look jungwon in the eye.

"your grace," you begin. "i was just on the way back to supper."

"no need," jungwon informs with a tilt of his head. "supper has ended. my sister does seem to want to know where you've wandered off to, though."

you swallow thickly. "i will return to her chambers right away."

you bow, hoping he would drop the conversation, but you feel his hand lay gently on your shoulder. you freeze, acutely aware that no man who isn't your lover or husband should be touching you like this in public.

"i'm sure she would not mind if you stayed out a little longer?" jungwon says as you fiddle with the lace trim on your bodice.

"doing what, your grace?" you question, turning back to look at him.

jungwon smiles, his dimples prominent in the firelit hall.

"take a walk with me," jungwon offers.

"if she asks where you've been, you can always say you were with me."

you draw in a breath. "i don't think that would be wise."

"my sister has five other ladies-in-waiting to attend to her. one would not be amiss," jungwon tries to convince you, taking your hand in his.

"what i meant was, it would not be appropriate to be left alone with you," you protest, watching as he lifts your hand to his lips, brushing them gently over your knuckles.

your skin tingles with a feeling you can't quite place.

"and why not?" jungwon asks, running his thumb over the spot where he had kissed your hand.

you look into his large, cat-like eyes. you're bewildered at how dashing he looks in this proximity, the sharp line of his nose exaggerated by the shadows cast by the torches around you. his lips curve into another one of his handsome smiles, and the way he looks at you is more than enough cause for you to shake inwardly with want.

"you know why," you finally answer. "it is not proper."

jungwon cocks his head to the side as if waiting for you to continue.

"we're not betrothed, or known lovers, for that matter. the direction we're heading..."

you pause, hoping jungwon would understand what you're talking about.

"it's dangerous."

"do you not hold any affection for me, lady ______?" jungwon addresses you formally, perhaps a jest, given the smirk playing on his lips.

"i had thought you did," jungwon continues, reaching out to toy with a loose strand of your hair that seemed to have fallen from the intricate braids that decorate your head.

"why would you think that?" you challenge. your heart beats twice as fast now.

the flicker of flames begins to crackle.

"you do not throw yourself at me like the other ladies in this castle do," jungwon replies, his thumb ghosting over your cheek and down your jaw.

"you avoid me, make any excuse to separate yourself from me," jungwon goes on.

"but when you do find yourself in my presence, your eyes cannot seem to leave mine."

you inhale sharply.

it's true. much like earlier, you make such efforts to create as much distance as possible between you and jungwon. like a fox slinking away from its predator.

but to you, jungwon was like a city cat: sly and clever. despite the couple of years you had on him, he was always one step ahead. you could never escape him. it didn't matter how grand his family's castle was, you will always find your way to each other.

"do you hold any affection for me, your grace?" you ask, raising a brow.

jungwon chuckles at this.

"of course."

your eyes widen at his admission and a laugh escapes the prince's lips.

"you thought i would shy away from such a confession?" jungwon taunts, stepping closer, his hands resting on your waist.

the fire burns brighter, still.

jungwon leans in and panic fills you. you were not in one of the castle's secluded corners where shadows are ready to conceal whatever is to come next. anyone could walk by and find you and the prince in this compromising position.

but all is forgotten when jungwon presses his lips against yours, gentle and cautious, as if wary that he might scare you off.

as a lady of a respectable background, you have always been reminded by your family to keep your virtue with you. you are not to mess with boys and no such inappropriate behavior shall be tolerated from you.

as a lady of a respectable background, you had your way around this.

this is not the first time you've been kissed, but the weak peck of lips against your own when you were but a young girl was nothing compared to the way jungwon's lips seems to be melting against yours.

you pull jungwon closer by the front of his tunic, feeling the firm muscles shifting beneath.

"we mustn't," you protest weakly against his lips. "not here."

jungwon pulls away, breathing heavily, eyes dark as he gazes at you. you stare back at him, anticipation coursing through your body.

what now?

"to my chambers," jungwon whispers, grasping your hand in his. you start to protest as he pulls you along, but he shushes you.

"quickly," jungwon urges, dashing down the hallway towards his room.

luckily for both of you, your destination had been nearby, and no guards are on patrol on this side of the castle. you arrive in front of the heavy double doors of jungwon's room, both of you out of breath and brimming with feelings you did not care to address.

jungwon pushes you against the hard wooden doors, lips pressing up against yours once more. you let out a surprised sound, but it's caught in your throat when you feel jungwon's hand running down the side of your leg. he dips down, grabbing the back of your knee, before hooking your leg around his waist.

you gasp, feeling him press up against you. you feel something hard beneath his breeches.

the flames are catching on, moving up farther and farther.

"your grace," you start, increasingly worried that someone would see you.

"forgive me," jungwon says with a sheepish grin. "restraint is hard to come by when you're around."

you flush at his words, but before you can reply, jungwon turns the knob to one side of the door, hurriedly pushing you inside before letting it close behind him. he turns the lock in place and lets the second steel bar fall across the wood, ensuring the utmost privacy for the two of you.

"your grace," you begin once more.

"jungwon," he says pointedly. "you may call me by my given name."

you gulp, the situation finally catching up to you. "jungwon."

"i...i do not wish to give myself to someone i will not marry," you explain, holding jungwon at arm's length. he examines your face, gently brushing your hair away from your forehead.

"we won't do anything you don't want to," jungwon reassures, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"but that's precisely it," you say, circling your arms around jungwon's neck.

"i want to do everything," you whisper.

"i want to do everything with you."

jungwon raisies an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips.

"are you the one proposing to me, my lady?" jungwon teases, his hand pressing gently on your lower abdomen. he travels down further between your legs, rubbing you through your gown.

you sigh, clutching at jungwon's clothes. you lean forward to leave a trail of kisses down his neck, enjoying the way he groans softly.

"is there any other woman you wish to marry?" you ask, smiling against his neck.

"no," jungwon answers simply, taking you by surprise as he pushes you towards his perfectly made-up bed, plush with the finest covers and blankets.

you stumble backward onto the cushiony surface, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watch jungwon undo the strings of his breeches. you gasp as he lets them fall, exposing all of his lower body to you.

jungwon catches your eye and leans down, kissing you with newfound vigor.

the fire crackles, just shy of bursting into wild flames.

"we can stop," jungwon murmurs as he pulls away. "whatever you want, my love, i will follow."

you shiver at the endearment, your fingers gently threading through jungwon's hair. with your other hand, you reach down to gather your skirt around your waist.

"i want you," you whisper, kissing jungwon sweetly.

you lay back down on the mattress, watching as jungwon eyes your exposed core with undeniable lust. jungwon bites his lip, guiding his straining length to your entrance. you feel a mild burn as he pushes in, the wet squelch of your arousal reaching your ears as he slips further into you.

you have had a man down there before, but merely with his fingers. the thickness of jungwon's cock contrasts with anything you've felt before, stretching you painfully, but you urge yourself to persist, clawing at jungwon's sleeves.

"my love, my dear," jungwon says, stilling over you.

"wait," you plead. "just, wait."

jungwon kisses you tenderly, stroking one side of your face with his thumb, perhaps in an effort to soothe you. you take increasingly deeper breaths, letting yourself relax in jungwon's embrace.

jungwon gives an experimental thrust, barely there, and you groan, but at this moment, the pain is mixed with a feeling that has you curling your toes.

"again," you pant, looking directly at jungwon's eyes. "slowly, my love."

jungwon moves again, carefully watching your expression. you gasp, lips parting as the sting gives way to a delicious throb within you.

"more," you beg this time. "please, i need to feel you."

jungwon groans, his hips snapping up as he gives in to his instincts.

"oh!" you cry out as the sensations come crashing down on you at once. it feels good, much better than your own fingers or anyone else's. you watch as he disappears and reappears with each thrust, the image so lewd and new to you that it keeps you in a trance.

"look at me, ______," jungwon says lowly. you obey, peering up at the young man. he has a frenzied look in his eyes, wild with something burning inside him.

the flames roar, engulfing you, him, your bodies.

jungwon grabs your hips, forcing you further down his bed. you throw your head back, relishing in the way he seems to go even deeper. you lock your legs around him, never wanting this feeling to end.

the bed creaks with the effort of holding up your passionate lovemaking, and you worry for a fraction of a second if anyone can hear. as if reading your thoughts, jungwon places a lingering kiss on your forehead.

"i think...i plan to marry you within the year," jungwon supplies between labored breaths. "hell, before the next moon if father allows."

you giggle, elated at jungwon's words.

"hardly a choice now that i've given my maidenhood to you," you comment mischievously. one side of jungwon's mouth raises in a smirk before he dives down to latch at one side of your neck.

"you're mine, love," jungwon declares. "all mine."

you preen at his words, his pace picking up. you're left breathless as he thrusts madly in and out of you. your world is spinning but at the very center of it is jungwon. sweet, handsome jungwon.

"i'm about to—"

"inside," you blurt out without second thought. jungwon's mouth hangs open at your decision, a question evidently making its way out of him.

"you'll get it on my dress, otherwise, and that would raise more questions," you interrupt once more, your breath hitching as jungwon's nails dig into your side.

"by the gods," jungwon curses beneath his breath. "i might have to wed you within a fortnight."

"please," you mewl. "want nothing more than to be your wife, to be yours."

jungwon grunts, pressing a hand down on your abdomen. you yelp, feeling a sudden pressure inside you. it had been a slow thrum of something minutes before, but now a strange sensation grips at you from within.

"s-something's happening," you worry, grasping jungwon's shoulder.

"you're about to finish, my love," jungwon says, pressing down even harder on your belly. you writhe, feeling as if you're about to explode.

"it'll feel good, i promise," jungwon reassures, pressing his lips to your temple. his movements are turning erratic, sweat dripping down his forehead with effort.

"fuck, i'm—"

before jungwon can finish his sentence, he moans loudly in your ear, sinking fully to the hilt inside of you. you feel him spasm inside you and the movement brushes against a spot that has you coming undone, pleasure coursing through every vein in your body.

you cling onto each other, trembling and moaning each other's names.

a minute passes by as you both calm down, skin glistening in the dim light of the dying flames in the fireplace. jungwon is the first to pull away, watching you as you try to catch your breath.

"you look absolutely stunning, my love," jungwon praises, kissing you on the cheek.

you smile, the ache in your body starting to make itself known.

"let me call one of the servants to have a bath drawn for you," jungwon offers, reaching over to the row of service bells next to his bed.

you sit up, letting your gown fall over your legs, concealing any indication of the past hour.

"i think i should be the one to call for them from my own room," you suggest, pulling jungwon back. you snake your arms around his torso, kissing him behind his ear.

"they might grow suspicious," you add, laying your cheek against his firm back.

"very well, then," jungwon agrees, prying himself from your arms. he swiftly dresses, straightening his disheveled hair. he sees you watching and he smiles, taking your face in his and giving you what seemed to be the hundredth kiss that night.

"i suppose you don't want me walking you to your room, either?" jungwon asks, helping you up from his bed.

you shake your head, working out the creases in your skirt and sleeves.

"let's not push our luck, my prince," you warn, patting jungwon's cheek.

---

you enter your bedroom, exhausted and slightly worried. you tried to find the princess to provide a semblance of an explanation but she was nowhere to be found. not in her own chambers, not in the library, not in the parlor. you decided after nearly half an hour of looking that you would handle the situation tomorrow.

you slide the large metal lock of your bedroom door into place, securing you in your bedroom for now. you turn, nearly screaming at the figure standing before you.

"gods!" you shriek, backing into the door, painfully banging your head against the wood.

"oh, shut it," the princess says, pulling you away from the door. she maneuvers you toward your quaint sitting corner, pulling a chair back and urging you to take a seat.

"now," she begins. "i'm not mad. i'm thrilled, to be honest."

"have you worked out a wedding date with my brother, yet?"

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Two: [Chemo & Charisma]

Summary: Jake arrives in Rhode Island to accompany his three kids back to Houston Texas the next morning. He expects it to be slightly awkward, but something he doesn’t expect is to be cryptically seduced by you—his ex wife.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Cancer Diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Separation. Marriage issues. Mentions of death. Minor smut (18+)

Word Count: 4.6k

Author Note: Thank you for all the love and support around this series so far. It truly has been an awesome experience getting to create this storyline with you all. I'm excited to see how you all react as the chapters come out. Your concepts, theories and reactions are truly making my December that much better.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Turbulence…it can mean anything from a few little bumps to a catastrophic weather system that could knock your flying tin can right out of the air. In Surgery they call it a complication, the surgeons hit a snag, a bump in the road. Turbulence. 

In your marriage, you called it Separation. One of the most unpredictable things about encountering turbulence is its aftermath. Everything’s been shaken up, undone, turned on its head. So you ask yourself time and time again, if you had the choice to avoid the plane crash, the turbulence altogether, would you take it? Would you play it safe and cancel the flight? Or would you get onboard and take your chances. 

“Dad!” Little Lucy Seresin was just the spitting image of you and your grandmother. She was every bit you except for those big emerald green eyes. “Dad—!” You could see Jake making his way towards you and your three children through the crowd, all standing around your legs waiting for their father. The one who gave all three of your children those piercing emerald eyes that held what seemed like all the secrets in the universe. “Mum! Dads here! Dads here!” 

“I see him sweetheart, there’s daddy.” You replied to your six year old, who, before you even had a chance to stop the only daughter of Jake Seresin, took off running across the crowded airport welcoming area towards her dad. You knew it had been far too long since Jake had been able to see his children, but you also knew it wasn't entirely his fault. The Navy was unpredictable as it was reliable. 

“Hiya Lulu!” Jake smiled as wild as he could as he dropped to his knee to embrace the six year old human he’d helped create. “Oh I missed you sweetheart.” That much was true, Jake Seresin missed his kids every day that passed him by. You watched on with six year old Lennox by your side and two year old Samuel on your hip as Jake picked his daughter up and carried her back over to where you stood patiently waiting. “Lenny, how you going man?” Jake beamed as he tousled his eldest son's hair. “Far out kid, you shoot up any more and you’ll be taller than your mother.” You smiled at the dig unintentionally, before you knew you were smiling Jake had seen the corners of your lips turn upright into an unmissable smile. 

“Mums says I’m growing like an inch a day because I eat all my green beans at dinner.” Jake took a moment to place Lucy back on solid ground before he came up back up to meet your gaze. It had been a few weeks since you had called Jake about your Christmas plans. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about them, deep down he wanted to tell you not to go. Deep down he was screaming at the top of his lungs for you to give him another chance, to come with him and the kids to his mothers for Christmas. But Jake knew better than to make a scene in front of the kids. But that didn't mean he couldn't be petty when he wanted to be just to get a rise out of you. 

“Is that so?” Jake beamed that signature Seresin grin you’d fallen for back in college when he was captain of the football team and you were just that meek library dweller. He made you feel so much more than just the shy history buff you’d been back then, Jake Seresin had taught you a lot of things about yourself in the time you’d been his best friend and wife, now ex. Nowadays however you often caught yourself wondering if he’d miss you if you didn’t make it through the battle you were facing. The battle you hadn’t told anyone about except your mum. The battle that took all your strength to keep a secret close to your chest. The battle that was draining you or all your strength and energy. The battle that late at night you wish you could just end early. 

Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma. Triple positive meaning that your specific cancer fed off oestrogen, progesterone and HER2 hormones. Lucky you right? Your first lumpectomy went rather well, but you were facing twelve weeks of chemotherapy treatment. Three oral tablets daily and two full days of IV sessions a week. 

However, you were taking measures into your own hands as of tomorrow and were scheduled to be back in hospital for double mastectomy. You didn't want to wait and see if the cancer would spread and wanted every single bit out. But Jake was none the wiser about your medical status and assumed that you were off to Canada with friends for a white Christmas in Banff Alberta. 

“Well—“ Jake carefully took little two year old Sammy from your grasp and placed his tied sleeping self on his own jean clad hip. “Mums are always right.” Jake quickly followed up as he looked down at Lenny. “There’s gonna be a ton of green beans at Grandma's house so you might overtake her quicker than anticipated buddy.” Jake gave the youngest of the three Seresin siblings a kiss on the cheek before he fully turned his attention to you. “Hey Hon—“ The way Jake stopped himself from finishing his sentence made your heart sink into the pit in your stomach. “Y/n, hey Y/n.” He corrected himself quickly as he picked up his duffel bag from the ground next to where he stood before you. “You look well.” 

Oh if only Jake truly knew what you had to do in order to look well. The countless hours you spent throwing your guts up in the middle of the night. The sleepless nights that turned into days. The loss of appetite that had you dropping weight faster than you could blink. Your diagnosis had been quick but your symptoms had been even quicker to take over your daily life.  You kicked yourself every day for not getting yourself to a doctor sooner. 

“Yeah, I’ve been doing alright—“ Things used to be so easy with Jake, now he was standing here before you in the middle of the airport bustling with people going to and from for the holiday season and you swore he looked like someone you didn’t even know. “The kiddos keep me busy, don’t you?” You asked Lucy as she reached out for your hand and looked at you like you were telling lies. 

“Mums been sick.” She told her father confidently, like you weren’t about to die then and there on the spot from embarrassment. Little Lucy had a bad habit of throwing you and Jake under the bus with one another. “She said it’s just a cold, but she’s been sick for like four whole weeks.” Lucy didn’t know any better than what you had always told her, that you had the flu. A long flu at that. As soon as you’d get the kids off to school you’d head right back to bed and sleep. The medication your doctors had you on was pretty brutal, and chemotherapy didn’t help although you’d only just started that kind of oral treatment. It packed a punch you couldn't handle.

“Oh?” Jake frowned as the five of you all made your way through the airport and out towards the car park. “Mum didn’t tell me she was sick, if I had known I would have come sooner.” Jake looked at you like he was trying to read the lines on your face. He could tell you were tied, more than normal—but despite that knowledge he’d never say it out loud. His grandmother would roll over in her damn grave if Jake ever dared to point out a woman’s under eye bags or her tired expression. So he went with ‘well’. 

“That’s why I didn’t tell you.” You didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but you knew by the hurt look on Jake’s face that it had struck an exposed nerve. He never wanted to separate. “What I meant was, I’m fine, Lulu here sees a runny nose and thinks it’s the end of days, I would have called you if I needed help.” 

“Fair, I mean—you can’t be that sick right? With your big trip to Banff planned and all.” Jake shrugged it off like his heart wasn’t breaking inside his chest. This was about to be his first Christmas separated from the women he loved more than life itself. Being in North Island made it easier to run from his problems, but the minute he got on that flight he was back inside his own head, rewinding and rethinking everything he ever did wrong to drive you away. 

“Right—“ You agreed softly beside the man you loved so deeply that it burned. “Yeah, I’m just so thankful you were so happy to take the kids with you to your mothers house this year.” To be perfectly honest you were expecting Jake to push back, ask more questions, be a little standoffish on the idea of you not being there for the kids on Christmas. But he never did, and you didn’t know what hurt more. 

“They’re my kids as much as they’re yours—kinda think it’s the least I can do considering you’ve had them all year round.” It was the tone you didn’t appreciate, the almost passive aggressive attitude that made you frown as you walked with Jake and your kids back to your car. 

“You can see the kids anytime you like.” You tried to keep your head level, but the way Jake had said it made you question his motives. “I’d never stop you, if you wanna have them more often I’m sure we can—“ 

“Wasn’t that a big part of the reason you wanted to separate?” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to finish what you were saying. You were about to say perhaps you could come up with a custody agreement. Something on paper that seemed fair to the both of you that took your work schedules into consideration as well as your living conditions, the kids schooling, holidays and extended family. You were happy to discuss it more, but this year that had passed the both of you by had gone in the blink of an eye. “You were stuck with the kids too much? Seems a little counter intuitive considering you’ve become their primary caregiver.” 

“Jake—“ You sighed with a longing he’d missed. “Not in front of the kids, alright?” You were trying your best, truly. But here he was in all his glory, the love of your life and father of your children, telling you that you made a mistake just in a different kind of font. “We can talk about it all when we get home.” 

“I’m not doing anything in front of the kids—“ Jake shrugged as he watched you unlock the car. “I’m just trying to understand why you can’t just admit why you really left.” Jake knew why you left, because of him. He knew he hadn’t done enough in your marriage to show you how much he loved you. He just wanted to hear you say it. That you didn’t love him anymore. He wanted you to tell him point blank that you had fallen out of love with him.

But you could never say that, because you never stopped loving him. 

“You know why—“ You had to bite the inside of your cheek and grit your teeth to stop yourself from yelling, Jake Seresin after all these years still managed to get under your skin with ease. “Again, not in front of the kids, let’s just get home.” 

“You seem frustrated.” Jake teased with that award winning grin, he knew exactly what he was doing. You always took the bait. 

“Yeah, you’ve been here for five minutes and I’m already over it.” If you had rolled your eyes any harder than you did you would have fallen over. 

“Little harsh—“ Jake chuckled as he placed Sammy into his booster seat, the little buckles that used to give him a hard time when the twins were younger were seamlessly clipped up in seconds. Jake made sure his youngest was safe and secure before he stood and turned his full undivided attention back to you. “I’ve missed you.” He said genuinely with a love so strong inside his heart you could nearly feel the warmth as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and drew you in for a hug. “It’s good to see you, even if it’s just for one night before you go jet setting.” 

With little hesitation you melted into the man you had married all those years ago with ease. Jake was your home, your guiding light. This past year had been rough without him and you knew deep down it had been rough for him too. 

But sometimes love just wasn’t enough to save a marriage. 

“Yeah—yeah it’s good to see you.” Jake felt your arms wrap around his torso as you let your cheek rest on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you too.” Jake’s scent had alway brought comfort to you, the overwhelming warmth of cedarwood and notes of vanilla bourbon always calmed you, grounded you in reality. “I’m uh—“ You wanted to tell him the truth about what was going on, but you just couldn’t do that to him. You couldn’t ask that much of him. Not after everything you’d both been through over the last year. “I’m just happy you’re here for the kids.” 

“Mum! Lennox won’t let me have the window seat!” 

“I’m older than you!” Lennox argued back as Jake groaned into your neck. Oh how he’d missed you, missed the kids, missed his family. North Island was great but without the four of you? Something was always missing. A piece of Jake was always missing. 

“I’m not just here for the kids.” Jake pulled away at the sound of Lenny and Lucy arguing in the back seat over who was taking the middle seat. “But they’re a bonus, Honey.” He winked as he switched into dad mode and dropped his voice an octave or two. “Stop arguing, I’ll flip a coin.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Oh woah—“ Jake's eyes lit up as he walked through the front door of the home you’d recently finished moving into. He’d only ever seen it over FaceTime. “It’s bigger than it looked.” The little giggle you let out as you passed him by didn’t go unnoticed. Dirty bird, Jake thought to himself as his eyes lingered down to your ass as you walked ahead of him. 

“It’s enough for me and the kids with a spare room.” You replied as Jake continued to look around. Reminisce of cardboard boxes used in your move still remained scattered around the place. “The kids still wanted to put up the Christmas tree even though they aren’t gonna be here.” 

“Mama said Santa will know that we’re spending it with Grandma and Grandpa and will take all our presents there.” Lucy caught Jake's attention as she barreled into the living room where the Christmas tree stood tall and proud, decorated with mismatched decorations that you and Jake had collected over the years either from stores or the kids' school crafts. “She also said I could give this to you when you came to stay the night.” Lucy explained as she dropped to her knees and reached under the tree to where a perfectly wrapped gift labelled with Jake's name on it sat. “It’s from mum.” 

“Lucy May—“ You nearly hissed as you padded into the living room. “Don’t tell lie’s please.” You pointed, the deal had been you’d get Jake one present and one present only knowing he probably wouldn’t have gotten you anything, and that you’d tell him it was from the kids until he opened it. “You tell your dad who it’s from.” Jake knew by the smirk that crept across his daughter’s face he recognised as his own, that it was from you. Lucy didn’t have to say another word. But she did regardless. 

“It’s from me and Lenny.” She replied as Jake sat on the couch he used to sleep on during those nights the two of you couldn’t sleep in the same bed. Those nights where the two of you needed space and those nights where he thought he was doing the right thing by you and giving it to you. He sat on the couch that felt unfamiliar now and took the present his daughter gave him with grace. “Lenny! Dad’s opening our present!” 

“What present?” Lennox frowned as he walked into the living room trying to carry two year old Sam. “Oh! Mums present.” 

“Lennox!” You groaned aloud in utter defeat. 

All Jake could do was laugh to himself as he looked over at you. You were as beautiful as ever, his one and only love. How the fuck did things get so messy where you had to use your children as scapegoats. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine—I know it’s from the kids Honey.” Jake winked as you rolled your eyes and headed on into the kitchen where you were getting organised to cook dinner. You were starting to feel awfully tired–the oral chemotherapy was starting to make you feel sicker than you had been before you knew what was going on. A double edged sword really, you keep taking the pills? You get so sick you die. You stop taking the chemotherapy tablets? You get so sick you die. Either way you were dying or you convinced yourself you were. 

But Jake could never know that, your kids could never know that, so you went about your routine as normally as you could without making a fuss. 

“I might save this for when we get to Grandmas, I wouldn't wanna not have anything to open on Christmas morning Lulu.” Jake smiled as he brought her in for a hug between his legs. “I love you all so much.” 

“We love you too dad.” Lucy replied as she hugged Jake back. “Mum loves you too.” 

“Oh does she now?” Jake knew that putting all his faith in a six year old probably wasn't the best thing he could do, but right now as he held her in his arms, the little girl the two of you had created–he did. He trusted her to tell the truth you wouldn't, because you wouldn't lie and tell him you didn't love him either. “Guess I'll just have to take your word for it then, won't I?” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Jake Seresin had always been a good dad, you had never questioned him on his ability to go above and beyond for his children. That was something you never had to worry about. As you plated up dinner, the laughter of your three children coming from the living room made you smile to yourself. They were loved so fiercely. 

“Alright, let's get ready for dinner, yeah? Mums been cooking up a storm in here.” Jake rounded the corner with Sam hand in hand. “Smells so damn good in here.” You again smiled to yourself as Jake can to stand beside you at the kitchen counter, watching as you scooped some pasta bake onto five plates. 

“When's the last time you had a home cooked meal?” It was a simple question but Jake really had to think about it for a moment as he reached over to steal a cucumber slice from the chopped salad.

“Does food from the bar count?” He asked with a half cocked smile, knowing full well that Penny's burgers and fries wouldn’t be considered home cooked in your opinion. 

“No–” You grinned as Jake leaned in from behind you, trapping you between him and the counter with both arms encompassing you. “No, when's the last time it was a home cooked meal?” Jake didn't reply right away, he simply inhaled your scent slowly from behind you and took in the comforting scent of elderberry and juniper. He missed that all encompassing feeling, that safe and warming feeling of your presence. 

“Uh—probably the last time you cooked for me.” Jake noticed the moment you paused at his words, the revelation that you were having. “And it was probably pasta bake, with salad and pork chops, like what we’re having right now.” 

“It’s always your favourite—“ It was clear from the very beginning that both you and Jake were getting caught in the moment. But as his hands slowly make their way from the counter top to hips, you know you were too far gone to press the pause button. “Jacob—“ 

“I'm a simple man.” Jake cooed as he brought one of his hands up to move your hair from one side of your neck. “Lucy tells me you love me.” 

“She’s got a pretty wild imagination that daughter of ours.” You teased as Jake pressed his lips against your neck in a sweet gesture of gratitude for the woman who gave him three beautiful children. “You need to stop—“ You sighed into Jake's warm embrace as he pulled away and let his chin fall to your shoulder. “I don’t know where or what you've been in recently.” 

“I think she said her name was Vanessa.” Jake taunted as he held you tightly from behind. He felt you tense in his embrace at the very idea he’d been with someone other than you. But you couldn’t hold it against him, not now, the pair of you were separated. You held no claim on the man you had left in favour of putting yourself first. 

But that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt. 

“Vanessa a name I should remember?” You asked with a little attitude in your tone Jake caught immediately. He couldn’t help but to smirk at the idea you were a little jealous of his very infrequent conquests. He loved you to the end of the world but this was such a frustrating situation to be in. What was a guy supposed to do? Be celebate in hopes his wife came running back? 

“Nope—“ Jake reassured you with another kiss to the neck. “I’m not ready to let you go, I thought maybe I could if I just leaned into the whole thing, whatever it is that we’re doing, but I’m just not ready to let you go.” 

“Have you?” Jake had to clear his throat when he asked. “Been with anyone, that is?” 

“Do you think between work, raising three kids with your DNA and missing you that I’d have time to get laid?” You knew what Jake would latch onto, the part where you said you missed him. You saw the light in his eye as you turned in his embrace to face him with a mischievous smile plastered across your face. 

“You miss me?” Yes. Yes you did. With all your might you missed him everyday and every night. But it didn’t change what the two of you became. 

“Don’t try your luck—“ You argued, shrugging Jake's query off like the answer was obvious. To him it was, you did miss him. Other sailors tend to recognise other sailors on the sea and Jake missed you tenfold. 

“Oh I’m feeling like the luckiest guy in the whole world right now.” You could feel Jake pressing himself against you, silently but not so subtly telling you exactly what this whole encounter was doing to him. 

“Really? Is that so?” You asked like you weren’t aware of the rock hard erection pressing against your pelvis. Jake just pressed his lips together in an attempt to hold off the crimson red from creeping up his neck and cheeks. But he wasn’t backing down from a challenge, especially when you were leaving all the right doors unlocked for him to walk right through. 

“So lucky that I couldn’t help but to notice the spare bed hasn’t even been made up?” 

“Oh so you assumed I’d be your personal chef and the maid tonight?” You countered as you looked around for your three small children, not wanting to expose them to such x-rated content before you slowly but surely sunk your hand into the sweatpants Jake had recently changed into. Damn those grey sweats and damn Jake for going commando. “You are perfectly capable of making your own bed.” 

The way your palm wrapped around his length sent sparks through Jake's body like nothing he’d ever felt before. Your touch was so beautiful and elegant, like you knew exactly what he needed and where he wanted it. 

“Or I could just sleep in yours, with you.” Jake nearly begged as your fist slid up and down his hardened length, feeling him twitch under your control. “Honey—“ He nearly moaned as he fell forward into you, letting his forehead rest against yours. “You’re killing me here.” 

“What don’t you get about the fact we’re separated?” You asked almost teasingly like you weren’t pumping him slowly as dinner cooled on the counter behind you while your kids played in the living room. 

“For as long as you have my last name, you’re my wife, end of story.” Butterflies, that’s how you’d describe the feeling inside you when Jake, your somewhat ex husband, told you you were still his. You never wanted to not be his, but you were sure that Vanessa maybe wondered if she’d ever be his too. 

“Oh you are so full of yourself.” You slowly but surely pulled your hand out from Jake’s sweats and watched him nearly deflate at the loss of sensation, but he never missed a beat, Jake was quick like that, he always had been. 

“You could be full of me too if you just let your guard down a little.” 

“Jake!!” You slapped his chest firmly as your kids all rushed in at the smell of food. 

“I’ll take my stuff upstairs shall I?” He grinned ear to ear, knowing by the way your jaw remained on the ground he had you hook, line and sinker. 

“Yeah, you can, to the spare room you idiot.” You watched as Jake fixed himself up and headed in the direction of the stairs. You were still so in love with this man. 

“Lenny! Where’s your mothers room?” Jake turned to your eldest son who always knew that the two of you were going to make it through whatever this rough patch was. He had friends who had divorced parents, and even at the young age of six, Lennox knew his parents didn’t hate each other. 

“Upstairs to the left, it’s the messy one.” You gave your son the stink eye as he beamed up at you. 

“Perfect.” Jake chuckled and sent you a wink. “I’ll be right back.” He was getting laid tonight and you both knew it. 

“I’m—“ You hardly had the energy to keep your whole hard to get act up, so with a sigh, you let your guard down for the man who held your heart in the palm of his hands. “You’re unbelievably.” 

“I’ve been told by the youth on base it’s called Rizz now.” Jake yelled back as he jogged up the wooden stairs, you could just barely hear him as his voice faded the higher he climbed. But nevertheless, you still heard him. 

“Well I can’t wait to get both you and your ‘rizz’ out of my house!” You shouted back, Lenny just laughed as he watched his Dad pull a funny face at your words from the top of the stairs. 

“You don’t mean that.” He smiled up at you. “You and dad love each other.” It made your heart skip a beat, but you had to remember that you were playing a dangerous game here. Letting Jake in now would only break his heart more. You had to do what was best for you, and that was to remain separate. At least while you were fighting for your life. 

“Maybe, but he’s still a pain in my ass Lenny.” 

***~****~****~***~***~***

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 91 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove ve @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination

[detentiontrack]

Top funniest amphibby lines and moments, in no particular order (except for the first one because I think it’s the funniest line in TV history) (paraphrased because it’s too early for me to hunt through episode transcripts to find the exact wording)

We’re trying to teach Polly how to play kickball! Which is challenging for obvious reasons!

No Tyler I will not clown face you

Well, Doc, I think you've done it. I think you've cured me of my fear of direct eye contact- *nightmare clown balloon from a horror movie passes by the window* AHHHHHHH

Did that creepy old man just lick EVERYONE on the bus???????? (Honorable mention: *panicked* bOy I could SURE USE SOME COFFEE)

Hop Pop, trying to pass as a human: What would you say for an older frog who's complaining about back pain these days? Vet: ummmm a frog complaining? Hop pop: Well, honestly, he holds it in and soldiers on. He's noble like that.

Polly: what’s your problem? Hop Pop: well to be honest, my cholesterol has been a little-

Polly: oh Sprig good. You survived. Sprig: yEah! I KICKED him! 😃

Anne: Oh, yeah, like you're really gonna tase a kid... *immediately gets tased*

We got banned for life! :D it was Anne’s fault

Anyone need a cough drop? 🤠

WHY IS EVERYTHING YOU SAY SO AGGRO???? 😨

Tongue him?? I hardly know him!!

Marcy: she’s just saying hewwo!!! 🤩🥰 *immediately almost gets eaten*

Polly: (a literal baby btw) hehe… frogs died here :)

Mr. X: sorry, coy is my default setting

Mr X, interrogating the Plantars: alright pinkie, I want to know. Start from the beginning Sprig: I was born on a humid swampy evening, just a tiny cute tadpole with big dreams 🥹

Mr X, still interrogating the Plantars: what’s your master plan Polly (still a literal baby. 5 years old): DUH to eliminate my enemies and take over the world! Mr X: AHA […] tell me more! Polly: *starts listing nearly every person in wartwood*

Sprig: your last friend was kiiiiinda totally evil :/

Not a specific line, but I think Sprig’s accidental homophobia and choosing to be a hater in Marcy at the gates is so funny

Nightmare toy: I eat eyes….. *screaming* ice cream. I eat ice cream. Hop Pop: oh! Well that’s fine Anne: loggle would love this thing :/

*after seeing a detailed wood carving Loggle made of himself super buff and muscular*: Sprig: Whoa, Loggle. We gotta talk about this man. We're comin' back. We're gonna talk about this. All right, good-bye 👋

*Sasha busting out cheerleader moves in the middle of a dangerous mission because of “muscle memory”. Twice.*

*Sasha drawing actual emojis on paper instead of writing or signing her name like a normal person on an actual war document ⚔️😘💅*

[fixyourwritinghabits]

So I want to write a novel, and I outline my story and write out everything that happens in the outline and I get to the end and it's... Between 20,000 and 40,000 words, usually. Like I can tell a complete story but I have a hard time getting it to the length of a publishable novel, and it keeps happening with different stories I write. Do you have any advice for making a story longer without making it feel like I'm just adding stuff to make it longer?

While I think you have a workable length for a first draft, I can see where your problems lay. Let's tackle what your intended goal is first.

Industry standard (set by traditional publishing) for novels is the following:

Adult novels - 80,000 to 100,000 word count. Many will fall between that range. Sci-Fi and Fantasy novels tend to run higher, but you'll notice Romance, Mystery, and Crime tend to run tighter, closer to 80k. Literary novels (Contemporary and Historical Fiction) can swing up and down that word length. Door-stopper books of 200k can be found, of course, but that's the opposite of what we're dealing with.

YA Novels - Contemporary tends to stick to a tight 80k, but publishing tends to seek longer fantasy novels, sticking to the adult standard of 10k.

Middle Grade (8-11ish year old readers) - 30,000 to 60,000. Most publishers want something in the middle, as MG readers are constantly stretching their reading capabilities.

These are generalizations that are subject to change, of course, but they're good guides to follow when editing. Let's say you want to aim for an adult novel, which means you want to at least double your 40k length. While looking over your work, consider the following:

Does your main character have enough problems?

If your story can be resolved within the 40k mark, you may need to add more complications to their journey. Does their external problem (the outside issues they're dealing with, like losing a job or battling a sentient typhoon) adequately line up with resolving their internal problem (dealing with unresolved guilt, confronting a fatal flaw about themselves, apologizing to that sentient typhoon for leaving them at the altar, etc).

Save The Cat also talks about the Shard of Glass or Unresolved Wound, a deeply internal problem the protagonist has to confront about themselves in order to solve the main problem of the novel. Deepening your character's issues can buff up the need for more words to resolve them. (Not every story has the character 'fix' this issue - many novels are about characters failing to do just that, that unresolved flaw finally dooming them in the end.)

Subplots, Sidequests, and McGuffins

Subplots are their to enrich your novel with elements that contribute to the overall journey. Besides the main problem your protagonist is facing, what else is going on in their life? Do they need to confess a crush to a friend? Is their struggle to control their magical powers tied to a traumatic childhood? Does learning the truth about their family history force them to reflect on their own behavior? A subplot should weave back into strengthening the main story while adding more elements to make it more interesting. It's not as hard as it sounds - the more you think about your character's internal problem, the more you realize they'll need to confess their feelings, confront their mother, or more to resolve that final issue.

By sidequests, I'm leaning into the fantasy element of storytelling, but you'll find this pops up in a lot of stories. A chance encounter in a mystery can provide an essential clue, or stopping to aid someone could lead to a character-revealing moment. Remember, this isn't filler - you're expanding the overall plot by leaning into your world-building to establish essential knowledge about your world, introducing minor characters that can act as aids or obstacles to a problem, or starting an action scene that changes the trajectory of the novel.

A MacGiffin is an object, device, or event necessary to the plot and the motivation of the characters, but typically unimportant or irrelevant in itself. Usually, the MacGuffin is revealed early on, and becomes less important once the storyline is set in motion. You'll see a lot of despairing comments about them, because they often can be used poorly. But MacGiffins are often essential parts of storytelling, a quest that leads your characters astray from what they should actually be doing (and in turn learning about themselves and the problem they need to face instead).

Your character spends half the novel trying to find the missing crown, only to discover it's been fake the whole time. That whole first half of the novel was a waste of time... or was it? By having your characters fixate on the wrong solution, you're exploring what Save the Cat calls "Doing Things The Wrong Way" where the real answer is in digging deep down, confronting that internal problem, and setting down the right path at last. This is where the mid-novel twist of the king being the villain all along, the dragon they're meant to slay for killing the villagers turns out to be a card-carrying vegan. The easy answer isn't the solution, and it's taking the hard path that gets things done.

For Example...

In Jedediah Berry's genre-bending mystery novel The Manual of Detection, the main character is pulled into finding the missing detective he used to write the case files for. As with any good mystery, there's a lot of good side quests - going to a bar only to run into villains that need confronting later, a one-sided rivalry with another detective ends up solving a problem later, etc. A subplot starting the novel where the protagonist goes out of his way to encounter someone at a coffee shop turns out to be an essential character connection later, and the MacGiffin - the Manual of Detection itself - turns out to be more important because of what it lacks.

In Jeff Smith's graphic novel series Bone, in the beginning, the main characters remain blissfully unaware of the true danger hunting them or the secrets of those around them. But the villains too are unknowingly pursuing a MacGuffin, leading to a series of events that will bring about a massive clash - and a confrontation of truths that will lead to the final solution.

And Finally, Maybe It's Not a Novel

I do want to say this might all not be what you need, because your true calling could be to write novellas - a length that varies between 20k to 40k. A shorter story is just as good as a lengthier one. There's a steady market for novellas of multiple genres, so it could be a good thing to look into if this feels like where your writing should be.

[angelatmidnight1]

Smile For Me

Hi, @supermarvel-fics! I'm your squealing Santa this year. It's my first time writing for the Scream series, but I really hope this fic is to your liking. I'm a big fan of the series myself :D. I hope you have a great holiday season and a wonderful 2024!

Word Count- 2,169.

Warnings- Swearing, mentions of death, and tickling.

Fandom- Scream (1996).

Pairing- Stu Macher x Reader (Friends to lovers- two characters falling in love and character A finds out character B is ticklish (ends in kissing and confessing) Characters are both 18 in this fic.

It’s been a string of dark days for Woodsboro, California, as the Ghostface attacks ravage the town. Stu distracts you from your worries by inviting you over to his place. What was supposed to be a chill night of movies turned into playful tickling and heartfelt confessions. 

Diiiiing!

High school didn’t usually dismiss at 9:00am. You didn’t crawl out of the warmth of your bed for two hours of instruction. But, these weren’t usual times. 

A killer was on the loose. People were going missing, lives were being lost. Woodsboro High couldn’t keep you safe. So, they sent everyone home with a strict curfew to be enforced in the evening.

Even in a crowd, you felt afraid. Ghostface could be anywhere. He could strike at any time. You didn’t even bother going to your locker. Instead, you were one of the first students in the hall, holding your backpack strap in a death grip. 

You walked as fast as your feet could take you. But, someone behind you was faster. 

Unlike you, Stu was thrilled to have a siesta from school. He burst out of his boring history class with a huge grin. He scanned the crowd for you and, when he saw you, he pushed his way forward. 

“(Y/N!)

In the commotion of the busy hallway, you didn’t hear him approach. So, when two strong arms hoisted you into the air, you screamed. 

“No, NO! Let me go!” Your limbs took on a mind of their own, flailing about violently. If Ghostface was gonna take you out, he’d have a fight on his hands. Stu yelped and, after getting clocked in the jaw, he immediately put you back down. 

“Hey, HEY! It’s just me!” Stu wailed. He rubbed his jaw, wincing. “Fuck, that hurt…”

You sighed an exasperated sigh. “Damn it, Stu.” You stepped towards him, closing the gap, and tenderly put a hand on his jaw. “You scared the hell outta me. I’m sorry.” 

For a moment, Stu’s eyes softened. The two of you had been friends since elementary school, and it wasn’t really a secret that he adored you. He made an agreement with Billy that they weren’t allowed to hurt you. Ever. You were his calm in the storm that he and Billy were bringing to Woodsboro. 

And, for you, Stu was your light in the darkness. The Ghostface attacks had you on edge. You hadn’t been sleeping well, lacked focus in class, and constantly looked over your shoulder. A part of you wished that Stu took the ordeal more seriously. But, a larger part of you was grateful that he still found ways to make you smile. He leaned into your hand and gave you a little pout.

“Sorry enough to come by my place tonight?” Stu’s pout turned into a bright, hopeful grin. “My parents won’t be home, and Randy hooked me up with some killer movies. All that’s missing is you~.”

He ended his statement with a poke to your nose. You smiled, playfully batting his hand away. Then, you released his jaw and sighed. 

“I don’t know, Stu. I’m tired.” You replied. Then, as if on cue, you yawned deeply. “I haven’t been able to sleep because of, well, ya know.” 

Stu nodded. But then, he gave you another bright smile, leaning his taller frame towards you. “That’s exactly why you should come over! Ghostface’s got nothing on me.” He bragged and flexed his muscles. “Look, I’m so buff, I’ll totally protect you, (Y/N).” 

You regarded him with a smirk. Then, you reached up to feel his bicep. Stu gasped and made a dramatic show of leaning into you. You tried to hold him up, but he was too heavy, and he nearly made you fall. You yelped and stumbled back into a nearby locker, scolding him without malice. 

“Stuhu!” You laughed and grabbed onto both of his arms to keep yourself upright. Stu snickered and hovered over you. He gently shook your hands off of his arms and took them into his own. He squeezed them affectionately, thumbs rubbing the top of your hands, and his blue eyes gazed into yours. 

“Let me protect you, alright?” He asked softly. You froze and held his gaze. There was a sudden warmth in his eyes, and you felt your cheeks heating up. After a beat, you nodded.

“Alright, if you really promise to protect me.” 

Although the safety of your home comforted you, you needed a distraction. And, Stu seemed happy to deliver. Stu confirmed this with a wide grin. 

“Awesome!” Stu cheered. He suddenly scooped you up, making you squeal, and carried you through the crowds. Once out of the school, he put you down, patting your back. “Come by at six tonight. Oh! And bring food! Can’t have a movie night without food.”

You smoothed out your clothes, returning his grin. Honestly, he could’ve gotten lost in that smile. “I’ll bring the best of Woodsboro’s culinary delights. You can count on it.” 

Stu whooped and did a fist pump. Then, with another laugh, the two of you parted ways. 

Burgers, fries, and sodas spelled the perfect night-in for you. Stu’s house wasn’t too far from yours, but your older brother insisted on dropping you off. You waved goodbye as he pulled off and carried the food to Stu’s door. You had to put the sodas down to knock on the door. Seconds later, the door opened, and Stu greeted you with a huge grin. 

“There you are! Right on time.” He gave you a quick hug and helped you bring the food in. Once inside his home, you felt your shoulders drop. You’d been over his home so many times, it brought you a sense of peace. A rarity in the current state of Woodsboro. You followed him to the living room and set the bags down. He did the same. Then, he turned to you, playfully pushing you back onto the couch. 

“HEY!” You caught yourself with your hands, snickering. Stu flopped beside you, and you lightly shoved his shoulder. “That’s how you treat someone who brought you food?” 

Stu chuckled and cozied up to you, putting his head on your arm. “Maybe.” He smirked. He reached forward to grab the remote and his fries. “Now, shhh! The movie’s starting.”

You rolled your eyes, but otherwise relented. 

Stu picked out a scary movie for the two of you to watch. His head was still resting on your arm and, despite your best efforts, you flinched at the jump scares. You shielded your eyes from any more scares, and Stu looked up at you curiously. He smiled. 

“D’aww, you’re kinda cute when you’re afraid.” He cooed. He poked your cheek, snickering as you reeled away from him. 

“Cut it out, I’m not cute.” You argued, keeping your eyes shielded. You moved your hands when you felt him shift under you. He sat straight up, suddenly poking your side. You slammed your arm to protect the area.  “Aha! Stu!”

“I don’t know,” he mused, now harboring a playful glint in his eye. “That’s the cutest little giggle I’ve ever heard. And you know what?”

You didn’t respond, but when you felt the couch cushion dip, you jumped to your feet out of instinct. Just in time too, because Stu had scooted closer to you, wriggling his fingers in the air. You giggled nervously, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Stu, don’t you dare-”

“Oh, I dare, (Y/N)!” He grinned mischievously. He made the conscious effort not to dip into his Ghostface voice. “I wanna hear that adorable giggle again.”

He shot up from his seat and lunged towards you. You yelped and narrowly dodged him. You ran behind the couch for cover and tried to run around it. But, Stu mirrored your movements, moving left and right with you respectively. “Where ya goin’~?”

“I’m gonna kill youhu-” You snickered and made the last minute decision to grab a pillow for self-defense. Stu’s eyes widened and, after a dramatic gasp, he covered his mouth with both hands. 

“You’re gonna kill me? With a pillow? Oh my god, have mercy!” Stu pretended to sound terrified. Then, he suddenly vaulted over the couch, easily ripping the pillow from your hands. “I don’t respond well to threats! Now, you’re gonna get it!”

You screamed and took off running. Stu’s grin widened; he loved a good chase. He stayed hot on your tail and chased you through the house. He easily caught up with you and, just before you could book it upstairs, he wrapped both of his arms around your waist. He dragged you back to the couch and tossed you onto it. 

“Baaad move, (Y/N)! You don’t run upstairs when someone’s chasing you!” He playfully chastised. He straddled your waist and poked at random spots on your torso. You squealed and bucked your hips, giggling frantically. “Haven’t you watched any movies?”

“Nohohoho!” You whined and wrestled with his hands. You managed to get a couple of pinches on his sides, making him squeal, but he was faster and stronger than you. He gathered your wrists into one hand, holding them above your head. Then, with his free hand, he alternated pinches along your hips. You arched your back and giggled harder. “Thihihis isn’t fuhuhuhny! Lehehet me gohoho!”

“Nope! No can do, I’ve gotta have those cute (Y/N)  giggles.” Stu snickered and suddenly reached up to spider his nails along your neck. “Give ‘em to me!”

You yelled and scrunched your neck. “NOHahahaha! Stuhuhu stahaha!” You protested and whipped your head around, trying to avoid his fingers. After a couple more scratches, his hand found your side, and he squeezed at it rapidly. You arched your back again. “STUHUHU!”

“(Y/N)~” He responded in a singsong voice. He scritched across your stomach to get to your other side. “Poor baby, does it tickle?”

“Yehehehes!” You whined and fell deeper into your giggle fit. “Plehehehehease stohohohop!”

“But I haven’t even tickled your armpits yet!” Stu argued. Your eyes widened and you looked up at him, only to be met with a smug grin. “What? That wouldn’t be a bad spot, would it?”

“NO! Not there, Stu, plehehehease!” You started giggling again when he poked and prodded up your side. You squirmed, trying to roll away from you, but his weight on top of you kept you pinned to the cushions. “Plehehease nohohot thehehere!”

Stu smirked up at you, teasing your rib cage with his blunt nails. That was your second worst spot; you squirmed around more violently, gasping in between giggles. 

“Here I come, (Y/N)...” Stu taunted. He pinched at the spaces in between your ribs, earning short barks of laughter. “I’m gonna get you..”

You shook your head back and forth, laughing harder as he kept moving up. “Nahahaha dohohon’t!”

Stu’s eyes sparkled with mischief. Would you fall for one of the oldest tricks in the book? 

“Don’t what?” He asked, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck. You snorted and pushed your head against his, making him chuckle. “Hmm~? Don’t what, buddy?”

“Tihihihihickle mehehehehe!”

No way. Stu switched to the other side of your neck to nuzzle. You pinched your eyes shut, now full-on laughing. “Well,” he breathed into your skin, making you laugh harder. “If you insist!”

Stu let go of your wrists and, in one fluid motion, plunged his wiggling fingers under your arms. You screamed and slammed your arms against your sides, which trapped his hands in place. 

“NOHAHAHA GEHEHEHT OHOHOFF OF MEHEHEHE!” You kicked your legs against the couch, your loud laughter filling up every corner of the room. “PLEHEHEHASE!”

“Listen to you, listen to that pretty laugh!” Stu laughed along with you and drilled his thumbs into your armpits. You squeezed your arms against your sides even more, falling deeper into a pit of laughter. “You’re such a cutie. Tickle, tickle, tickle, cutie pie.”

You blushed and writhed under him, laughing yourself silly. While tickling your armpits, Stu returned to nuzzling your neck. He blew quick raspberries into it when he felt especially mischievous. As much as you kicked and laughed, you weren’t going anywhere. It was the raspberries that pushed you into hiccupy laughter, and after one more raspberry, Stu stopped tickling you. 

You breathed heavily. Ticklish sensations still plagued you, so you were still very giggly. “Youhu’re suhuhch an ahahashole.”

Stu laughed. “You don’t mean that. You love me!” His eyes softened again as he looked at you; disheveled hair, a wide smile, those beautiful (e/c) eyes. “Right? Cause I’ve definitely got a thing for you, (Y/N).”

You looked up at him with wide eyes. Your face spelled surprise, but somewhere in your heart, you already knew. “Really?”

Stu climbed off of you so that you could sit up. “Hell yeah, I do.” He repeated, patting a spot beside him. You obliged by scooting beside him, so that you were pressed against him. “Want me to prove it?”

That’s what you needed. Proof. Something sweet to seal the deal. You nodded. Then, wrapping an arm around you, he leaned down to kiss your lips. Deeply. 

You leaned up into that kiss and smiled. Stu smiled too. He’d kill to keep that smile on your face.

[joelsfavouritegirl]

more pre-outbreak joel hcs because this man takes up every square inch of my mind<33

. let’s be real he lives for sports, joel is the type of guy to invite tommy and all his friends over js to watch the “big game” (and he’s manning that barbecue 100% and doesn’t let anyone get near it, it’s just him cooking on it and he ends up missing half the game because of it but oh well)

. the driest fucking texter on the face of the earth i swear, his number one response to almost any message you send is just 👍 and then he’s confused later on when you assume that he’s upset

“are you mad at me?”

his head turns to your direction, brows furrowed and raised, “what?”

“are you mad at me?” you repeat, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you look at him.

he hesitates for a moment, like he’s almost about to ask if you’re mad at him. “no, sweets, i ain’t mad. why would i be mad at you?” he drawls, turning to face you fully.

“cause earlier when i told you i was gonna be home later you just replied with a thumbs up. you didn’t say anything else.”

“oh not this again- “

. WAS THE BIGGEST HISTORY NERD IN SCHOOL, ik that boy knew anything and everything if you asked him. history was the one subject he had straight a’s from no joke. remembers years and numbers like he was born for it, it’s srsly fascinating.

“napoleon bonaparte died which year?” the voice of the host of the game show booms from the tv. your eyes are flickering over the answers on the screen as you look away from your book for a second.

“may 5th, 1821,” joel mutters, his head comfortably settled in your lap as you card your fingers through his hair.

it makes you frown down at him, scoffing softly before you look back at the screen.

“1840,” the contestant replies and the buzzer practically defeans you, indicating that it’s the wrong answer.

“a couple years off there, Roger,” the host chuckles, flashing that unnatural white-teeth smile to the man, “napoleon died on the 5th of may, 1821”

and joel is chuckling in your lap, patting your thigh in victory as he watches your dropped jaw.

“i was a history buff in high school, what can i say?”

. i also feel like joel would’ve actually been a pretty smart kid (we don’t talk about him thinking the rover in the museum in tlou2 was the real one from mars), i also definitely think he went to music high school parallel with normal high school (he was a band kid through and through you can’t convince me otherwise). hardworking, smart, a bit of a goody-two-shoes if you squint, would’ve probably gone off to a decent college/university if it wasn’t for sarah’s appearance (wrap it before you tap it kids!!)

. type of guy to scoff whenever people say their favorite holiday is valentine’s day but you know damn well he’s got it marked on his calendar so he can remember to buy you some nice flowers and take you out to some fancy date (and fuck the shit out of you when you get home but that’s a whole other story). you tease him about it every year but he just brushes it off (his cheeks are red and he has to clear his throat bcs he himself knows it’s true and he’s too much of a gentleman to fully deny it)

literally the loml it’s critical atp<33

[jmliebert]

modern Aemond headcanons

I HAD A VISION

this one is born to succeed

his either into fencing or calisthenic, possibly even both

listening to classical music while studying

and he’s studying a lot, may I add

also, he’s reading a lot too, is a slut for Dostoyevsky

Crime and Punishment has a special place in his heart…

enjoys self-help books for personal development

something like atomic habits, 48 laws of power etc.

wakes up early, follows a productive morning routine

admires Machiavelli and Johan Liebert

has led lights in his room

and as we are talking about his room let me say it’s immaculate

Aemond's a history buff

enjoys discussing politics and philosophy especially

the Borgia family intrigues him deeply

perfectionist in various aspects, well organised

not a fan of going to the cinema

either avoids social media entirely or has accounts but rarely use it

has his !emo boy! moments here and there

likes to play knife game

speaks more than one language for sure

write from time to time, usually some thoughtful essays

listens to $uicideboy$ and phonk when he feels super edgy

is stargazing in secret

actually he’s quite sweet if you get to know him more

but it’s hard to get to know him more… :(

he wishes for someone who would understand

his day is incomplete without unhealthy amounts of coffee

helping Aegon do his homework even though he’s younger

genuinely likes spending time with his mother, they talk a lot and go on coffee dates

frenemies with Luke...

has soft spot for Helaena, would do anything for his sis

drives Helaena to her therapy sessions, always, without fail and never complains about it

likes the idea of stoicism but lack the patience, gets a little bit to silly sometimes…

wearing black (well, isn’t that obvious?)

is rocking that adidas black set look

or dark leather jacket with straight pants…

his hair is his crown, he puts much effort into it even though he denies it

Aegon teases him about it without no end

favours Calvin Klein boxers, wears them on a daily basis

plus points if wearing cool rings

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can find more of my works about aemond ♡here♡

[floralcyanide]

ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ᴊᴏʜɴ “ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ” ᴇɢᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

Today is your first day pursuing your Master of Arts in History, and the first day you meet your advisor, Dr. Egan, Professor of History.

pairing: professor!john "bucky" egan / fem!reader

warnings: none

author’s note: peep the somewhat grey hair edit of bucky I made lol, this is such s elf indulgent au because I am a history major looking to go into my master's and also I want to be a history professor so yeah ((: I will either write this as an actual fic but idk yet!! enjoy (:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

✦ It’s your first day on your path toward your Master of Arts in History. You’re meeting with your advisor today, who will help you on that very path and hopefully guide you to its end with success.

✦ Apparently, your advisor is prevalent around campus despite you never having a class of his. Your university is quite large, so even though your focus is American History, and so is his, it’s not unheard of to never have met him.

✦ He wasn’t too into social events held by the history department, which is understandable. You loved attending them in your later years of being an underclassmen. But they can be overwhelming at times. 

✦ You wrap your knuckles against the wooden door before you, and before you can finish knocking, a tall, salt-and-pepper man swings the door open with a dazzling smile.

✦ “Welcome, I’m Dr. Egan. I’ll be your advisor for the rest of your time here on campus.” He offers a hand for you to shake, which you happily take. His grip is firm, but so is yours. You were taught to look someone right in the eye while shaking their hand firmly- but not too firmly. Dr. Egan picks up on this.

✦ You’re one of three female history majors in the entire department going toward a Master’s and one of about twenty altogether in the major. So, of course, you’re going to need a firm handshake and steady eye contact to get ahead in your field.

✦ “Quite a handshake you have there,” Dr. Egan says, taking a seat behind his desk. He waves a hand for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of it. “Thank you,” you say, “My grandfather taught me always to have a perfect grip.” “Your grandfather was right,” Dr. Egan nods, “because in this major, being an equal with the males will take you far.”

✦ Your grandfather and father were history buffs and even lived through major historical moments, like the World Wars. So your goal in life is to teach others about what they loved so dearly and went through so harshly.

✦ Your mother had you just a few years before your father was shipped off to England, so you spent the beginning of your school years without him. Your grandfather filled in the gaps you missed from your father, thankfully. Sadly, your grandfather passed just last year, but you aim to carry his legacy and intelligence.

✦ “I’m aware, unfortunately,” you grimace at the thought of the male-dominating discipline, “But I’ve made it this far, and I’m not backing down.” “Great, I’m glad to hear that. Especially since you’re the first student I’ve ever advised for a Masters.” “Really?” you ask, a little surprised, “Then we’ll do this together.”

✦ Dr. Egan winks at that and dives into what research will be required for your first paper. The topic is based on the thesis statement of your final project, a little warm-up, as Dr. Egan called it- to the real deal at the end of your two years of studying. You go on to tell him that you want your thesis to be about the pilots of World War II, but you don’t elaborate on why. 

✦ Dr. Egan tilts his head at you when you don’t explain why you chose that exact topic but let it go. He’s had to learn that everyone has skeletons in their closet, as well as personal things, and not just him.

✦ You can’t help but take in his appearance. His outfit consists of a brown tweed blazer and a white button-up with black slacks. His hair is curly and graying on the sides, and he has a faint stubble with a notable mustache on his upper lip. Dr. Egan held himself carefully but confidently, like he’d been hurt by something but still had an ego of sorts. It reminds you of your father and grandfather. You weren’t sure why.  But you’re going to figure it out.

✦ Dr. Egan is in his 40s now and picked up college again after leaving the military due to PTSD. He eventually got his Ph.D. in History and is now a professor, and has been for a few years now. He enjoys his job. Dr. Egan (or Bucky, as we know him) loves that he can focus on American History without living through it, so he teaches it. Bucky tries to avoid WWII as a topic because he doesn’t want students and staff to know he served. He thinks it will hinder their outlook on him. 

✦ Bucky has only known you through letters and now an hour of talking, but he already expects a lot from you. He knows you are skilled and passionate about history. When you look at him, though, he feels you can see right through him. Bucky doesn’t know how to gauge that quite yet.

✦ You bid farewell to Dr. Egan after about two hours of getting to know each other's basic info as well as what’s expected of your MA in History. You leave, letting out a deep breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you walked out of the office. You’re still nervous, but not about your Master’s anymore- it’s about how you’re going to manage the next two years with a man like Dr. Egan.

[the-monkey-ruler]

Hello!!! Stumbled upon this blog on a casual scroll-through and am super impressed at how thorough and passionate it is!! Kudos!!

I had a question, if it’s not too much of a bother:

Is there any sort of artifact mentioned in JTTW (or Chinese mythology at large) that’s been used to contain a yaoguai’s power/take it away from them? Maybe in the vein of Guanyin’s vase? Sorry if this doesn’t make sense.

So what you are asking for is something that can take away cultivation so to speak? There are some tv/movies that do show other yaoguai that are able to eat the life force of yaoguai and forcing them back into their original state therefore taking away their power and their humanoid form.

However that is more popular in modern media, as for any canon items they are more focused on subduing and capturing rather than depowering.

Gaunyin's vase sadly hasn't been able to show any depowering abilities either if you were asking about that. It has been show to whole an entire ocean and that it can hold healing water. But there are movies where she is able to capture demons (such as Wukong) in her vase and keep them in a state of status. But I don't know how in canon that is as she does have a lot of history outside of journey to the west.

But on to magical items in journey to the west! I shall rank them from most subduing to least subduing

Subduing Buff Attacking

Golden Jade Ring (金剛琢) - it can change size, is invulnerable to water and fire, can strike all things, collect various magic weapons and weapons, and has infinite uses. Laojun used this treasure to knock down Sun Wukong and help Erlang Shen capture him. The One Horned King used this treasure to take away Sun Wukong's golden hoop, Nezha's six weapons, and the magic weapons of hundreds of gods and generals. It can even dissolve water, fire, thunder and lightning. Later, Taishang Laojun, who came down to the world himself, defeated it with a fire-type banana fan. This was the thing that put Wukong stop in his tracks, doesn't take away power but def the most powerful.

Flask of Yin and Yang Essence (陰陽二氣瓶) - it contains the Seven Treasures and Eight Diagrams, twenty-four Qi, and requires thirty-six people, according to the number of Tiangang, to lift it. This treasure can hold a person and if a person does not speak, the bottle will be very cool. But once they speak, fire will burn them into pulp water in a moment. Wukonghad to use his Golden Hair he was given by Guanyin to escape. While not invincible it took another magical item to counteract it and thus very powerful.

Golden Cymbals (金鐃) - the magic weapon used by the Yellow-Browed Monster who trapped Sun Wukong inside and would have turned to puss inside it if he didn't escape. Sun Wukong escaped from the golden cymbal with the help of Kang Jinlong and immediately broke it. Took nearly an army to escape it, very powerful.

Purple Gold Red Gourd (紫金紅葫蘆) - as long as you call out your opponent's name if they respond, the elixir will pull them inside. Then a note with the words "The Supreme Lord Laozi, please obey my command as soon as possible" will be posted on it, and the elixir will turn into pus in a few hours. Hard to say how powerful this is since Wukong escaped it twice turning into a bug so... take that as user error or not.

Human Sack (人種袋) - Sun Wukong invited the twenty-eight constellations, the two generals of the tortoise and the snake, the five great dragons, Prince Xiao Zhang and the four great generals, but they were all put into the monster's bag. Later, Maitreya Buddha took back the human seed bag and put the demon king into the bag. Very powerful but does not kill, so less of a threat.

Golden Cloth Rope (幌金繩) it was originally a belt used by Taishang Laojun to tie his robe. It has a tightening rope spell but also a loosening rope spell and if a user knows both they most likely will not be affected. Powerful but if you know the loosening spell it is useless.

Suet Jade Flask (羊脂玉淨瓶) this was used by Taishang Laojun to make elixirs and hold water. It has space inside to hold water from all over the world.

Seven Stars Sword (七星劍) - the real sword from the Ming and Qing dynasties that has survived in modern times was used by Tan Sitong. The seven stars are mainly symbolic, but from the perspective of material mechanics, they should have the function of buffering stress concentration and preventing the sword from breaking.

Palm Leaf Fan (芭蕉扇) - The two banana fans, yin and yang, are held by Taishang Laojun and Princess Iron Fan respectively: the banana fan used by Taishang Laojun is yang, and the six Ding divine fire it fanned is the power source of the alchemy furnace; the banana fan used by Princess Iron Fan is yin, and its water vapor can extinguish the fire in Huoyan Mountain. The two fans are mutually reinforcing and mutually restraining. There are prototypes that can be traced in reality.

Banana Leaf Fan (芭蕉扇) - The extremely yin treasure fan can fan out water vapor, and water can extinguish fire, so it can extinguish the 800-li Flame Mountain. "Journey to the West" Chapter 59 "Tang Sanzang's Road Blocks the Flame Mountain, Sun Xingzhe Uses the Banana Fan" "...Her banana fan was originally a magical treasure created by heaven and earth since the beginning of chaos behind Kunlun Mountain. It is the essence of the Taiyin, so it can extinguish fire." The yin wind fanned out can make people drift 84,000 miles before it can stop.

Purple-Gold Bells (紫金鈴) - This Purple Gold Bell was forged by Taishang Laojun in the Eight Diagrams Furnace, and it is very powerful. Shake it once, and fire will come out. Shake it twice, and smoke will come out. Shake it three times, and sand and rocks will fly. Sun Wukong stole the golden bell and then subdued "Sai Taisui".

If you are looking for more magic items that can take away cultivation I actually think that there is something in FSYY that took away some daoists' cultivation... but I think that was more of a formation than an item... I'm sorry I didn't take notes on but that novel DEF has a lot of magical items!!