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jangofctts · 4 years

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Mirrored Heart (captain rex x fem!reader)

rated: 18+ explicit

word count: 5.6k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering, blow jobs, clone space racism?

a/n: ANYWAY HERE IT IS. ive had this draft saved since like a year ago and just now finished it. anyway kwjrkejh here YALL GO. also thank you @jango-fettish FOR LETTING ME BORROW SYRENA

It's curious.

Well, you, as a whole are curious—completely outside the realm of what Rex considers normal. As far as senators go, that is.

You're grumpy for one—worse than Skywalker and far more snide than Kenobi—a near gargantuan task bordering impossible. Wit and cleverness come to you easier than breathing, but it's your unwavering kindness towards himself and his brothers that sticks out like a blaster burn against alabaster white walls.

He passed it off as a joke—some sort of mockery. Rex’s existence has been full of them. The past year it’s been made glaringly clear as to what the clones are to the people of the republic—tools. Mindless war machines dressed with flesh and bone, heart and sinew instead of durasteel and a circuitboard. Humanity has been skimmed over with excuses and debates over the hollow argument that clones were created for the sole purpose of war—nothing more. Ignorance is bliss when you are not the one fighting tooth and nail for petty skirmishes and the survival of your family.

Ithyea, your home monarchal planet, is a newer member of the Galatic Republic—one of the firsts to advocate for clone rights—cutting through each argument with the steel headed javelin of hope and determination. Controversial in the eyes of the galaxy but no less than true. Yet with controversy, comes chaos.

Wedged between Takodana and the Cerean Reach hyperspace lane—it’s an essential key to accessing more neutral space sectors without stepping on any toes. While the planet does mirror the size of a larger than average moon, there’s nothing but grandeur with the cutting edge advances in space travel and military innovations. An arts district too, one that’s presented multiple times for the Senate apparently. Rex has yet to see it. It’s an easy guess as to why Ithyea has gone under pointed attacks from the Separatists—it’d be foolish not to try.

And of course comes the intergalactic mess of politics. You are not Ithyea’s first senator. Or second…or third. Just in the last six months, three of your predecessors have been picked off—two disappearances and a suspicious poisoning sandwiched between them. Which sides these assassinations stem from is anybody’s guess—a mix of both perhaps—all to silence and stamp the voice of your people out.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear those abhorrent senatorial robes, and Maker did it take some convincing for another Ithyean to step to the chopping block. It’s just…no one thought it’d be you. The infamous captain of King Arrian Felian’s elite guard—trained in combat levels high enough to contend some of those within the ranks of the Jedi Order. When your name comes up in conversation, it certainly doesn’t scream diplomacy.

Rex is not surprised that you hold the current record of Ithyean senators for surviving the longest. Evading an astonishing two attempts on your life by the skin of your teeth. You were just downright lucky the third assassin missed their mark. Sure, the blade of Syrena Aster skimmed the right side of your cheek and left behind a nasty scar to remember her by, but kriff—even with your background and low levels of public presence, you’re a high priced target. Whoever placed an order with the Heretics, really wants to see you six feet under.

Rex hasn’t been given the full report on exactly who the Heretics are—a rag tag bunch of untrained Force users and skilled assassins from what he’s gathered—but regardless, this attack is just the beginning. Until the Senate and the Jedi are able to retract the price on your head, you’re stuck under protective custody. Usually ushered away into the Jedi Temple or tagging along with General Kenobi and Skywalker. Despondently, no matter the circumstances of your protection, it can’t shield you from the dreadful invitations to senatorial luncheons.

And yes, you tried to slip by for this one.

You don't brush elbows with other senator’s like many of the members in the Jedi Order and your own cohort do. In fact, you actively avoid even speaking to them unless necessary, let alone stand in the same room with seven of them. Odd for an elected official of diplomacy such as yourself to be so cold shouldered—Rex would think senators wanted to mingle.

It's curious because you're standing in plain sight and yet no one pays you any passing thought. General Kenobi and Skywalker hold the majority of their attentions, shoulders already taught with exasperation at keeping everyone from tearing out each other's throats for, kriffing five minutes. Yet you...you are completely at ease, leaning up against a stone pillar, observing the unfolding chaos from afar with a keen eye.

Before Rex realizes he's stepping towards your position, you glance over and dip your chin in greeting. The ghost of a smirk pulls at your normally grim facade—his heart skips. "Captain."

"Senator," he mimics, posting himself to your right. There’s still a thin, healing scab from the assassin’s blade that extends from the swell of your cheek to your ear. Ouch. “Enjoying the evening?"

You snort. "Hardly enjoying it, Rex."

Stars—you shouldn't be allowed to say his name. Your words are razor-sharp like a jagged vibroblade, meant to jab and pierce through armor—tear a person to pieces without having to lift a finger. Everything about you is rough, gritty, brutal, unbecoming of what a senator should be, but—

You mouth his name, purring out the singular syllable with such tenderness that it's like a punch to the gut.

It's hard to swallow and he needs to clear his throat—an embarrassing act on his part, but your attention has already returned back towards the meandering senators. "How d'you mean?"

"Well," you sigh, "let's just say smalltalk isn’t my strong suit."

"Aren't you senators s'pposed to like diplomacy n' such?"

Your thumb smoothes over your bottom lip in thought as you shrug. "Diplomacy? Sure. Politicians? Can’t say I like them. I just—"

You wave your hand around, gesturing vaguely to the crowd. "I just don't understand why they can't say what they mean. Telling someone to have a nice day shouldn't entail certain death, y'know?"

"Speaking from experience?" He teases, gently prying into that harder than beskar wall you've created for yourself. There's fissions in your foundation and he means to tear it down all for just a mere scrap of information.

Your eyes flick over, your lips curling into a vulpine grin. “Perhaps...Though, it was partially my fault, I have to admit.”

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Senator.”

You nod. “Yes, one day—when there aren’t so many political ears jumping at the chance of gossip.”

A swell of laughter interrupts your chat, your attention gravitating to Obi-Wan—ever the charmer with the crowds. The end of your mouth pulls into a frown as you sigh and carefully scratch at your brow with the back of your thumb. Rex might be pulling at straws, but what he mistook as you being standoffish may just be your nerves. Socially awkward and flustered when speaking in such an intimate setting.

Rex’s first instinct is to reach out and place a hand over your shoulder in comfort, but he’s not sure how you’ll respond to the touch. Flip him over your shoulder probably—

Instead he forces himself to jumpstart the conversation—something to distract from your anxieties. “I hope you don’t mind me asking—“ His heart beat kicks up into a flurry of wild beats as you turn you head. “What uh..wh—did you want to become a senator?”

He likes it when you smile—like you’re letting him on some sort of coy secret. You shift your weight and shrug. “The king asked me personally. I’m flattered he thinks I’m clever enough—insulted he sends me to these abysmal gatherings like some sort of show pony.”

Rex chuckles. “Yeah, can’t say I like ‘em either.”

“Although…” Your thumb runs over your lip again, a sparkle of mischief igniting behind your eyes. “As a senator, I do get the occasional tidbit of gossip. Here, I’ll catch you up—“

The captain startles when you snatch his elbow and yank him closer. Maker he’s glad for his helmet because your lips brush against his earpiece as he leans down to reach your height.

“Look." You whisper, nodding casually in the direction of a particularly young senator with a shock of white hair. She's swathed in a pool of royal blue silk, much too large for her tiny frame, and all but hanging off Skywalker's arm with glittered nails filed into points. "That is Senator Ceci Paare of Corellia. She looks innocent, no?"

She does. Wide, crystalline green eyes stare up at the Jedi Knight as a pretty giggle escapes past her ruby painted lips. Skywalker grimaces.

"I quite like her," you continue with a sly grin. "Even if she does try to influence public opinion by an invitation to bed."

There's no time to process as you focus in on an older man. His hazy blue skin, ash white lips and vermillion green eyes cut an almost nightmarish profile, accentuated by mountains of black robes. Rex can’t recall what planet the senator represents. The senator holds his head stiffer than rebar to keep the ornate golden circlet from slipping off, his white lips curling in distaste as Orn Free Taa of Ryloth places a meaty hand over his slender shoulder.

"He is Lord Tal’en Sol Ra'ah. Cunning, but sympathetic to the pleasures of gambling."

It's a game to you—of perceptions and nuances only a trained eye can roll over. Rex expects nothing less. This sort of thing has been hammered into the very essence of your being since you were little—reading an enemy before they can strike. It works on politicians marvelously well.

Truth be told Rex should be paying more attention—but the closeness of your face to his helmet is maddening. His heart twists and coils as your bare hand skims along his gloved one—kriff. He’s not gonna make it before he bursts into a thousand little pieces.

Rex’s spell of lovesick yearning recedes as you swear under your breath. It was only a matter of time before someone approached your little corner.

"Oh, Maker save me," you hiss under your breath as a young Mirialan saunters over, the swatches of rich red and brilliant gold accentuate his violet skin like a bloody bruise. "Pretend you're speaking with me."

"I am speaking with you," Rex snorts.

Your hand waves in dismissal as your brows stitch together, hands balling into fists. Your jaw clenches as the senator in question puts on a dazzling smile. You look downright panicked. Rex has witnessed you face down numerous senators older than dirt and close to blowing away in the wind with plucky fervor, assassination attempts, being held captive, and you're frightened…by this?

This is too good.

Rex has half a mind to help you, wheel you away from your little predicament, but his intrigue with seeing your oh-so-solid resolve crumble is much too valuable and entertaining to pass up. He's going to remember this for years.

"Rex."

"Senator," he mimics, not at all frightened by your poisonous glare. "Some diplomacy might do you good."

You begin to snarl out a threat but are decidedly cut off by your object of horror planting himself before your hiding spot. You cower into the corner like a boxed in loth-cat. "Ah, my favorite Ithyean! I had begun to worry you would not make it, my dear friend."

"Senator Lin," you sigh. The smile you offer is tight and thin; a nervous one much in the same way one would be if presented with a box of toenails for a birthday gift. “How pleasant to see you."

Senator Lin’s deep violet lips part with an easy smile. He waves a hand in dismissal, his silver rings glinting in the warm lighting. "Please—call me Toluka. No need to bother with such formalities between companions."

Rex suddenly understands your trepidation with the Mirialan—he’s slimy. And, not to mention, not at all ashamed with the lecherous looks as his eyes sweep down your body. Rex clenches his teeth and folds his arms behind his back. He’s regretting not heeding your warning now…

Try as you might through brutal small talk and chilly answers, Senator Lin refuses to take the hint. A dark plume of venom green lashes through Rex’s chest as the Mirialan places a friendly hand over your shoulder. You grimace as Rex bristles and glares through the visor of his helmet.

Senator Lin’s lips pull into a gaudy smile as he glances at Rex and then at you.“My dear, don’t you know? It’s not worth wasting your time with a clone. After all, they’re all the same person. How boorish—come join us at the table.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek as your temper, like the silver of blade through the darkness, cuts through your steely irises. With poised nonchalance, you lift your hand and pinch Senator’s Lin’s fingers between your own and pry them off your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Your campaign, valuable as it may be,” Lin continues, “is a useless endeavor. They are not our equals and never will be--you must know that."

Rex forces himself to remain calm—collected and certainly not imaging a thousand and one ways he’d like to see his fist breaking the fragile bones of the senator’s face.

"Fine buttons stitched upon your shoulders do not compel your worth, Senator,” the harshness of your words is a blow straight to Lin’s ego. His well-groomed brows furrow drastically as his tongue struggles to play catch up and find words to repair his shattered pride.

There’s no chance for Senator Lin to regain his footing as your snatch Rex’s wrist and sweep him out into the hall. Rex can feel your anger roll off of you in waves, frighting and holding the same caliber of roaring waves thundering against black, craggy rocks. It’s a miracle the night didn’t end with your hands wrapped around the senator’s throat or a blaster shot through the chest.

When you reach the lower halls of the cruise ship is when you release Rex’s wrist. You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and release a long, dramatic sigh.

"You are worth far more than that pompous ass," you say with enough edge to slice through a droideka's shields. "He has no right to say those things to you."

“It’s alright,” Rex soothes, placing a hand over your bristling shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.”

Your features scrunch up into a wince. “That...that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through more of it, Rex.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and loosen the heavy outer robes strung around your shoulders. You shrug out of them and fold the thick swaths of fabric over you arm—revealing the under layers of your uniform. You toss the bundle of fabric to the floor with a disgusted grimace and sit on the cargo crate closest to your left.

“Really—it’s ok.” Rex assures again. “I—“

You hold up a hand and shake your head. His mouth snaps shut. “I won’t hear it. To me you are nothing short of perfect and I refuse to argue about it. Maker knows I already do that for a kriffing living.”

There’s a fragile lull in the hollow space—the distant chatter of voices and strange music collecting in the corners. You stand once again, toe to toe with the Captain and there it is again, that elated pitter patter of his heart thrumming through his veins. The nerves of being so close to you—you sweet face and not being able to touch you.

“Let me see your face.”

His hands come up to the edges of his helmet without hesitation, a hiss of hair escaping the seal once he pries it off. You smile and take a step closer until the only thing separating you and him is his helmet.

Rex’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into your hand you gingerly place over his jaw. “I wish the entire galaxy could see you through my eyes,” you whisper, the warmth of your soft palm radiating out and warming his entire body.

It’s a matchstick to kerosene—his helmet clatters to the ground and there’s only a second to spare as both hands move to cup his cheeks, dragging him into a mouthwatering kiss.

He hasn’t kissed many people—save for those rare times at 79’s, head swimming under the haze of one too many shots of Corellian fire whiskeys where he could barely distinguish his ass from his hand. Those drunken make-outs were nothing like this.

No—this…this is what a kiss should be like.

He dreams about you all the time—so constantly ravenous that all he can feel some days is pure ache. Every and all words that spin around his head starts with you and finishes with his pounding heart close to bursting free from his ribcage. Not in the same way a flood rips through an unsuspecting village—more like the brilliance of a thousand doves, marble white plumage thrashing free from their gilded cage. Your lips taste like the core of a newborn star—scorching and yet still so sweet upon the tongue the same way caramelized sugar sticks to the roof your mouth. You are his first and last everything.

There’s a certain kind of tragedy hidden beneath your tongue, fragile promises and the eggshell thin shards of hope stapled to the roof of your mouth. Rex will take it—seize any threadbare strand and run with it—spool it into the palm of his hand until you’re wound so tightly together it’ll be impossible to untangle.

Just when the dizziness sets in from elation and not enough air, you part and leave a sticky trail of warm kisses up his jaw. Rex groans and hugs you closer, you humid breath blooming across his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

The words on his tongue crumble to ash once he nods in agreement. Your kisses dip lower, not even stopping when the reach the edge of his chest plate. Stars, you’re…he never entertained the idea that your lips could look so divine in contrast to the battered plastoid. When you fold onto your knees his heart leaps to his mouth, a flare of arousal flashing through his groin.

You rest your chin over his codpiece and smile. “Do you like seeing me on my knees, sir?”

Rex huffs and studies at the opposing wall—

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your fingers find the claps over his codpiece. “Can I take this off?”

Rex jerks his head in a yes but grabs your wrist. Not a rough hold—a tentative one as hesitation swirls in his eyes. “Don’t—don’t have t’ do this for me—“

You quirk a brow. “I want to because I like you, Rexy.”

A rosy blush blooms over his sharp cheekbones. The captain nods again.

The codpiece clatters to the ground and immediately you move your hand to palm him through his blacks. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut. There we go.

Biting your lip, you pull down his blacks as far as the plastoid plating allows, greeted with the hard length of his cock, beautiful and flushed a rosy brown. Fuck—he’s thicker than you thought. You wrap your fingers around the base, delighted by Rex’s airy gasp as he throbs in your palm. A bead of liquid shines at the tip and just the sight of it makes your mouth water.

Moons—you should’ve done this sooner.

With a stuttering inhale, Rex trails his forefinger along your cheek and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingertips skim lower and lightly pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your eyes lift to meet his. “You—you sure?”

You answer with a kiss over the dip of his navel, the skin searing hot under your lips. Rex curses and rolls his head back onto his shoulders when your palm slides up the length of his cock and then back down. Your grip is firm and tight as Rex slumps onto the crate, goosebumps rushing up his exposed flesh. Stars, when’s the last time he’s gotten release like this?

You lean forward and lick a languid line from the velvety skin of his balls all the way up to the tip. Rex’s hips jolt. You purse your lips and suckle at the head, dipping your tongue over the slit then down to trace the ridge of his frenulum all the while your hand rolls up and down his shaft. Rex tangles his fingers into your hair with a hiss. You open your jaw a bit wider and take him down a few inches into the wet heat of your mouth, feeling your lips stretch around his cock. You you drag the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft to make the thickness easier to swallow down, but he's still only halfway into your mouth when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck—" Rex moans as his hips strain to remain still. “S’good—such a good girl.”

You glance up, eyes devouring the attractive length of his clean shaven throat and the underside of his chin. Rex swallows and let’s out another little sound. You whine softly in return and slip a hand into your pants, pressing your fingertips against your throbbing clit as you start to carefully bob your head up and down. Yeah—your jaw already aches just from holding his cock in in your mouth but fuck it—it’s worth it.

Rex's chest heaves with exertion as he mindfully rocks his hips up, pushing and rolling his cock deeper into your mouth until his shaft is nearly seated all the way in. Ditching your own pleasure entirely, you swallow around him, forcing down the urge to gag and simply hold him here. Allowing him a moment to just enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth before launching into the main event.

Rex murmurs your name and strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re beautiful—so pretty like—like this..ah—”

You pointedly hollow your cheeks and suck, his flattery warming your chest with pride. You swallow around him another time, squeeze his shaft, your fist following your mouth as you lift up then back down to the base. You grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you pull halfway up and let Rex rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans of your name.

Soon enough he’s twitching in your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tips back onto his shoulders. The gloved hand sweetly cradling your cheek slips to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers into you hair to anchor himself. He’s close—quiet gasps and broken curses tumbling out, hips unconsciously rocking into your mouth in search of release.

Rex whimpers your name, his leg jolting as you work your jaw wider and swallow him down, the dark curls tickling your nose once it brushes his groin. “Oh, fuck.”

You hum around him, delighting in the mumbled praises. Almost there…That’s it.

He’s dangling on the precipice—on tiny shove away from euphoria—

“Wait—“ Saliva dribbles down your chin when his cock pops out from your swollen lips, throbbing from the unintentional tease. “Maker—shit.”

If not for the gloves covering his hands, you’re sure they’d be turning white from how tightly he grips the edge of the crate. His eyes are squeezed shut, slightly bent forward as he falls away from the edge of his release. Rex sucks in a steadying breath, amber eyes meeting your confused ones.

“I don’t—can we—“ Rex’s eyes flit and focus on anything but you as he stutters and works up the courage to ask for what he wants. “Do we have time—“

You rolls your eyes and rest your cheek on his thigh. Silly man. “You wanna fuck me, Rexy?”

“Kriff, yes.”

You smile and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t think they’ll miss us."

Rex doesn’t complain when you take his hands and yank him onto the grubby floor and over your senatorial robes. He props his back against the crate as you shuck off everything below the waste and clamber into his lap. His hands, warm even through the leather, land over the swell of your hips and wrench you closer until your front presses up against his chest plate.

The rough prickle of his stubble is, in all sense of the word, addictive. He tilts his head to kiss you, the slick touch of his tongue on your bottom lip adding jet fuel to the fire low in your belly. Rex groans and cups your jaw, holding your mouth open to dance his tongue along the length of yours. You whine and shudder as he purses his lips and lightly sucks on your tongue before you both part.

Rex drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you both pant for precious air. His dark lashes sweep up his cheeks when he looks at you. This close you bare witness to the dazzling color of his eyes—crystalized pearls of amber over the crackled bark of pine tree in the midmorning sun. Muted gold threaded through the brown like fine lace and the slow shimmer of the sun dappled through water. To think such a man like him is dredged through the bloodied mud of war is despicable.

You blink away the swell of tears prickling at your eyes and kiss him once more. Sighing, you whisper down, mouthing soft nibbles and teasing kisses over his jaw and down his neck. Rex squirms and rock his hips up, your cunt clenching around nothing. You need him.

“Rex,” you groan. You slide your hand between your bodies and grab at his thick length. Rex gasps into your mouth, long fingers clamping onto your waist in a death grip. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.”

Your nibble at his earlobe as you grind your hips against his length, the folds of your cunt teasingly out of reach. “Touch me, Captain.”

Rex tears off his vambraces and gloves, hand wedging between your thighs, touching the very tips of his fingers to your throbbing clit. You whine and clench your jaw—the pleasure is raw—sizzling electricity that crackles with the deadly promises of your pleasure. It’s as if you’ve had the breath knocked out of your lungs the second he bears down a bit more on your clit, drawing tentative circles, each completion sending a shockwave of tightly spooled ecstasy through each and every nerve. You nearly sob as his fingers slip away.

“So wet already,” Rex moans as you tip your head back when two of his fingers begin circle your dripping cunt. They’re thick and long and perfect. Your hips stutter as your cunt easily accepts his fingers, the heel of his palm slotting perfectly against your pussy to stimulate your clit.

Maker you’re seeing stars as Rex rocks his hand into you—the bend of his fingers the perfect angle to catch all the right places that make you tremble. He kisses your cheek and moans your name into your ear, all low and gravelly—

Your body seizes up tight as you soar, plummeting off the edge only to tumble so fast and so hard that tears prick the corner of your eyes. Rex peppers kisses over your cheeks and runs his free hand through your hair, purring praise and adoration as you shudder—your mouth parted in a silent cry as you cum and dissolve into his hands.

When you suck in a steadying breath and open your eyes, Rex is gazing upon you with starstruck eyes—pure adoration that makes your cheeks flare hotter than the surface of two mini suns. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like this…

However, you’re impatient and running on stolen seconds. As much as you’d like to just simply stare at him—there’s not enough time. Rex wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and slides the tip of himself through your soaking folds. Each stroke against your still throbbing clit makes you buckle into yourself, but the angle that your knees are propped over his hips means you're stuck here.

Rex pauses and cups your cheek. His thumb scrapes over your cheekbone. “You want this?”

You place your hand over his and turn your head to mouth a kiss over the lines of his palm. Oh, fuck yeah. Kind of him to ask as if hadn’t just cum over his fingers but—no. “I need you to fuck me, Rex. That’s an order.”

Rex huffs out a low chuckle and bumps the crown of his forehead against yours. “As you wish, Senator.”

Rex runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds again, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the hard plastoid as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s in no small. You’ll feel him for days, you’re sure of it as your cunt swallows inch after inch.

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw his clenched tight as sweat beads at his blonde hairline—Stars above, he’s a sight, struggling not to loose control the second he’s buried inside of you. Desire tickles up your spine, tugging at the fabrics of your being until all you can focus on his how Rex isn’t moving. You shift your hips in tiny, almost imperceptible motions, and squeeze around him.

“Damn—“ A ragged moans slices through his words as your gentle rocking morphs into needy jolts. It’s easy to fuck yourself onto his cock like this, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. “Fuck, cyare, you’re tight.”

You smirk and grab at his sculpted shoulders—it’s the push he needs. Rex snarls your name, cups his hands under the globes of your ass and pulls you off his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust before Rex sets a pace, fevered and rabid All pent up energy collecting over the weeks you’ve known each other. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what feels like ages.

You squeal in surprise as Rex pushes you onto your back and hoists your legs around his hips. Rex buries his nose into the crook of your neck and moans your name like a sweet prayer wrapped in honeycomb. Rex shifts his weight, widening his knees to sink deeper into your cunt—his stubble tickling your throat as his staggered exhales burn hot over your skin.

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, scorching through each and every veins with the catastrophic brilliance of an imploding star. Shit—

“So good t’me—so perfect,” he huffs into your ear. Rex turns his head and steals a kiss. “Feel fuckin’ good stretched around my cock."

You clench around him hard as Rex’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s barely any build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that sweeps through your body, from your aching center down to your toes. It steals away all the air left in your lungs and leaves your clutching his arm and shuddering for a hold in your own reality—the steady warmth of his body that’s unburdened by armor a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you.

His gentle, and pliant kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth over your neck and collar bone as his hips struggle to keep a definitive pattern. Rex’s curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star.

“Where can—can I?”

You grab at his head and whine his name. “Anywhere—in me—you can cum in me.”

With a loving caress over back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, he reaches release. Rex’s moan is airy as his eyes slam shut and captures your mouth in a sizzling kiss. He’s twitching in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over your robes you lay over. Whatever.

Rex nips at your skin as the last dregs of pleasure jolt up your spine. Neither of you say a word as Rex’s hips come to a slow. Time trickles through your fingers like sand through an hourglass half empty but instead of rushing to dress, you choose to lie on the ground—two halves of a mess someone’s been meaning to clean up for the better part of a long while. You feel at home here—content as your fingers run up and down the back of his head, a bit irked by the armor still covering his back. You’re terrified of the months to come—but at least you have each other. After all, gardens will bloom and flourish with fresh blooded love and wild mistakes sculpted from passion forever if you believe hard enough…wont they?

#we out here #yeehaw #my writing #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #ct-7567 #captai rex #clone x reader #clone trooper x reader #the clone wars #tcw #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars #sw

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realcatalina · 2 years

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Catherine’s rival and her family-strange thoughts-part 1:

It might come as surprise, given that I am big fan of Queen Catherine of Aragon. But I think Henry should get the lion’s share of blame for persuing Anne Boleyn. Because in the end even if her families were sheming and ambitious, he shouldn’t be falling for it. He should uphold the principles, and be faithful to his wife.

However, after many talks with Thistle about Tudors, it made me realise how much of the story is from not from very credible sources. Basically propaganda of both camps, clashing.

The propaganda at the time, whetever you wish to call it catholic/habsburg idk, this propaganda decided to ‘better’ Catherine by making stuff up in order to improve her image(and sadly we believe some of those stories and take them as facts and ignore real good things she did).

If they couldn’t be entirely truthful about Catherine, how am I supposed to believe they were truthful about her rival? That’d be very naive of me.

Both camps, made stuff up to better their hero, and also made up stuff to worsen the character of their chosen villain.

Whetever or not that person was actually so bad, or did any of it, is uncertain.

Truth is under layers and layers of propaganda of both camps (Including real Catherine, so why the heck we prefer that over truth?).

And I came to realisation that majority(if not all) I’ve been told about Anne Boleyn and her family is also from sources very unlikely to be unbiased and truthful.

And I am almost certain, that at least one of Anne Boleyn’s relatives was labelled as whore, without proper evidence to back it up.

And that is her sister. She might have actually not been Henry VIII’s lover.

Hear me out. We were told that Henry’s marriage to Anne was annuled on grounds that he had previous sexual relationship with Anne’s sister.

Problem is-the one who originally said so-was Chapuye. No other source knows what the actual grounds for annulment were at the time. The documement as far as I know, doesn’t survive.

And Chapuyee often reported as if he could read people’s minds, and knew why they did all they did etc, and had tendency to place events coincidentally at times so it seems as divine timing. Such as Queen Catherine’s burial happening on same day Anne Boleyn lost her child.

One would have to very naive to believe it is not same thing as Sweating sickness appearing coincidentally with Henry VII’s troops-hence signalling Tudor dynasty was bad and their claim was wrong etc. (So guess which camp started that rumour.) Divine timing was one of the things very used in propaganda in past. And because there wasn’t that many official nor amateurish chroniclers, most of time those propagandist got away with shifting timelines to set their propanda’s narrative. Creating false the diving timing is essentially lying. So I don’t trust Chapuye. I know he was on Catherine’s side, but I think his credibility is pretty low.

What other evidence for Mary Boleyn being whore we have?

-her affair with French King Francis I, who supposedly called her his English mare. Except Francis said those words about Anne, when she was courted by Henry VIII. And unlike Henry whose affairs we have little evidence about(because he kept his affairs actually very private), Francis was never keeping it secret with whom he was sleeping with, and even paraded himself with his mistress before Eleanor of Austria. He didn’t care about privacy at all. So why don’t we have more evidence for the affair between the two?

Because it probably didn’t happen.

However even if Mary didn’t sleep with French King, she could have slept with Henry VIII, after all he was way more handsome than Francis(with his very long nose).

Yet there is an issue. There is but one period source for it. And I am convinced it is misinterpretted.

Let me set the scene(of fictional scenario)-that I was told that before I dated my boyfriend he slept with my mother and my sister. And I am shocked to hear it and I decide to confront him out of suddenand ask if there is any truth to it. And at that time he happens to be standing next to friend of his.

And I ask: “Well did you?! Did you sleep with my mum and my sis?”

And he is shocked. “Your-your?! Your mum?! What?! She’s twice my age!”

And his friends interupts and says-”Well, you didn’t sleep with her sis either!”(Like trying to remind him, dude you missed half of the question!)

That little intervention by the friend and him not denying my sister also, would then make me suspicious that he didn’t sleep with my mum, but might have slept with my sister. Even though he might have been just shocked and not able to process the seriousness of acussation and come with good answer on spot, and maybe even only processing the first part of the question, not hearing anything I said after it.

And people, I think this is almost exactly what happened with Henry VIII.

One of his courties asked him the question/accusation-that he slept with Anne’s mother and sister, he denied part of it, and not rest of it, person next to him intervened, answered for him and now he appears guilty of 2nd part of the question(which refered to Mary).

So actually this exchange where he was asked if he slept with Mary, and he didn’t deny at first, is not strong evidence for the affair. It is evidence of Henry not being good orator.

He certainly was not able to argument well, if he was taken by surprise. He might have not came with great answer, and hence the myth!

So the grounds upon which Mary Boleyn was labelled as Henry VIII’s mistress, are shady. Yet it is in almost every book, movie, tv show. And it might be a lie!

The lady might have been faithful, moral, good person. But because her sister caught Henry VIII’s attention, Mary was then targeted by propaganda, who decided to destroy her image and susceeded. 500 years later we still think of her as a whore.

And it isn’t only member of Anne Boleyn’s family which might have not been guilty of something we think they did. I actually found out that some members of Anne’s family, were close to Catherine. You could even say friends with her. And they were forced to attend events where Anne was honoured, making it seems as if they were on board with it, while they did not.

I even found one source which said that Anne’s uncle, Norfolk originally was telling Henry to return to his true wife. It is then presented that Norfolk later grew ambitious and changed his mind, and was fully on board. However, what if he didn’t? What if he just got scared of Henry VIII, as he grew more and more tyranical?

Could we be wrong about at least portion of that family? Could we believe entirely wrong narrative? Was Anne just another of Henry’s victims, and her relatives forced to watch as he hounded her, and unable to stop it?

Unwilling victim of his persuation, of his stalking, basically?

So often whenever man in power starts to look other way, the girl gets the blame and not he. And him being powerful and using that power in order to push her into relationship with him, is often not being believed, instead she is labelled as gold-digger. Could it be Anne’s case? Idk.

I believe Anne was born in 1507(not in 1501), and that Catherine Howard might have been framed for her adultery, and actually innocent as well.

They were similiar age, when they caught Henry’s eyes. Henry pushed nice wife of his always aside in order to marry them, and then quickly got rid of them, when they were framed for adultury by evil courtiers, which the King was unable to keep leash upon.

And I am not so sure, if they were willing to be with Henry in first place.

Truth is I don’t know. I don’t know what Anne actually was like. Nor her family. I don’t know if they were actually abitious from begining, if they became ambitious later on, or if they never were. Or if some were, some weren’t. And I’ll probably never will know. None of us. Because Henry in his rage destroyed most of our main sources. And we’re only left with propaganda/biased sources.

Hence I won’t ever know, whetever I should hate Anne Boleyn for ruining Catherine’s and Mary I’s life. Or if I should pity her and her daughter, as more of Henry’s victims.

However, still some questions remain. If their relatives weren’t pushing Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard towards Henry. How come they caught Henry’s eye? Why did he became so insanely obssessed?

I will try to answer that in part two.

And in part three, I will tell you why Anne’s family being desperate to get into favour is absolutely false narrative, one which we can disprove, and it is actually part of Catherine’s story as well and it gets ignored and different narrative is fed to us.

And i hope you will not hound me for this post and that you will be polite in the comments. And remember:

You think you know the story, but you only know how it ended up looking, after propaganda sank its teeth into it and bitten off big chunk of it and spit it out.

#Catherine of Aragon's rival #anne boleyn #mary boleyn

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minor-solemnity · 3 years

Note

Request:

Pairing: Tom x oc/reader

Summary:

Tom and oc go to the slug club yearly galla and oc is the loud Gryffindor 2nd in class and her and tom have been nemesis for long but the sexual tension is real and then tom sees her dancing with potter ..

Slughorn is like “ahh two of my favourite students” and he introduced them to a lot of people and a little girl spills something on tom and oc defends the girl and slughorn is like why dont you help him change oc ( as tom had some injury and was drenched and couldn’t change on his own ) and when they fight all the way to his dorm and she only agrees because slughorn tells her to and then when she helps him out of his shirt there is a lot of sexual tension and then kiss or maybe have sex in his dorm

And in the end she ends up sleeping on his bed and he like sees her face glisten in the moon light and is like fuck i like her even though he was trying to convince himself he didnt care abt her throughout the party ? And in the morning she is like well you slytherins have great beds you rich aristocrats or something and he just laughs and kisses her and malfoy is like well who would have thought the slytherin ice cold king and the Gryffindor lioness

I dont know feel free to change it up and if you donr want to then thats ok too it would mean a great deal to me if you write it no pressure tho..( going anon because i am shy )

~ red

Heyyy so I took a few liberties and this is gonna be a two parter because I have zero chill apparently but I hope you like this, Red!

Next part will be up in a day or two :)

Never Gonna Give (You Up) Pt.1

You smile up at him as innocently as you can. You know you shouldn’t bait him. You know you’re being immature. You know that if this night descends into one of your usual verbal sparring matches you won’t be impressing anyone, let alone Christella Beaufort. But something about him brings out the worst in you. Makes you feel slightly wrong-footed which in turn makes you want to push and needle until he reacts.

You take a moment to marvel at the decorations for this year’s Saturnalia party. Every year, Slughorn seems to set himself an unofficial challenge to out-do himself with more elaborate designs. This year, the theme is clear: gold. Just lots and lots of gold. From the tablecloths to the chairs, to the golden snowflakes that melt into nothing a couple of feet above your head, to the floor which has been charmed so that whenever you take a step you leave a shimmering footprint in your wake. It’s bright and festive and you can’t help but smirk at the thought of Tom Riddle being stuck in a room full of Gryffindor colours.

Speaking of the devil, you spy Riddle talking to Slughorn and one of the Ministry officials that often grace Slughorn’s get-togethers. You don’t particularly want to go over and talk to him, but you do want to make yourself known to Slughorn and find out if he managed to Christella Beaufort on the list this year. She’s the Head Curse-Breaker at Gringott’s, fiercely independent, highly intelligent, and so tenacious she had singlehandedly opened the door to witches wanting to go into the profession. In short, she’s your idol.

“Come on, Potter. We’ve got pleasantries to make and hands to grease.” You grab Fleamont’s hand who you’re attending the party with (as friends - you’ve made it very clear to him that you’re not interested in finding out whether his skills on a broom translate off the pitch). With that, you stride over to the drinks table where Slughorn and Riddle are chatting, Fleamont stumbling after you, his hand still locked in yours.

“Professor,” You greet Slughorn with a warm smile, “I have to say, you’ve outdone yourself once again. I’m particularly fond of the colour scheme this year.”

“Ahh, my dear girl, how lovely of you to join us!” Slughorn cries jovially. He pats your shoulder and you watch as his eyes slide to your hand, which is still clasped around Fleamonts. And (not that you care) you notice that Riddle’s eyes are also fixed on your intertwined hands. You let go of Fleamont’s hand and it has nothing to do with the frown that’s now marring Riddle’s brow. He casts a fond (and slightly calculating, truth be told) eye over the three of you. “My three best students! First, second, and third.” Your smile turns strained and over Slughorn’s shoulder, Riddle’s charming smile turns smug.

Slughorn introduces you to the Ministry official - a boring looking man who you promptly forget the name of but who Fleamont seems entirely taken by. Before you know it, Potter has abandoned you to talk shop with Slughorn and Mr Ministry and you’re left with Riddle.

Lovely.

Just. Lovely.

At least there’s champagne. The other professors might disapprove but in all your years of Slug Club Saturnalias, Slughorn has never once skimped on the champagne. You reach for a glass and look at Riddle with a critical eye, searching for any imperfections. Frustratingly, you can’t find any. Riddle is, as per usual, the most handsome man in the room. Pale skin, impossibly dark eyes, refined features and cheekbones as sharp as his tongue. Metaphorically speaking. Though the idea of Riddle with a forked tongue is enough to make you snort into your champagne flute.

Riddle’s attention snaps to you and he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, impatient, annoyed with you already and making absolutely no attempt to hide it. “Did you find something amusing?”

“Oh, no. I was just taking in your general appearance,” You say, waving a handle vaguely towards him. You smile up at him as innocently as you can. You know you shouldn’t bait him. You know you’re being immature. You know that if this night descends into one of your usual verbal sparring matches you won’t be impressing anyone, let alone Christella Beaufort. But something about him brings out the worst in you. Makes you feel slightly wrong-footed which in turn makes you want to push and needle until he reacts. It doesn’t help that the rivalry you’ve had with him since first year has only become more intense and heated as you’ve gotten older.

His eyes narrow and he drags his gaze across your body. The moment stretches and your cheeks flame as his eyes follow the nip of your waist and the curve of your hips. Your mouth goes dry. Because this is another thing that you hate about Riddle: he never fails to make your stomach swoop. By the time he raises his eyes back to yours, his expression is one of ironic amusement. “Colour me impressed,” He murmurs, angling his body ever so slightly towards you and you have to force yourself not to take a step back. “You actually look… passable this evening.”

Prat.

You should walk away. You should find one of the fancy people that you’ve been desperate to meet since your invitation arrived a month ago.

You don’t.

You stay and bicker with Riddle, throwing increasingly caustic taunts and jibes at each other whilst you sip champagne and pretend that you’d rather be anywhere else. You realise about twenty minutes into a debate about Minister for Magic Spencer-Moon’s policies (you rather like the pro-muggle legislature he’s attempting to pass and Riddle thinks you’re being horribly naive) that Riddle is still here. Which, well, obviously he’s still here; he’s talking to you right now in that same condescending tone he uses to tell students off for staying out past curfew. But he doesn’t have to be. Riddle is as ambitious as you are, more so, even. So why has he spent most of the evening with you and not sucking up to the many rich and talented witches and wizards in attendance tonight?

You glance around the room, suddenly aware that it hadn’t even occurred to you to leave. You’ve been so wrapped up in your conversation that everything else had just sort of… faded away. For reasons you are unwilling to examine too closely, you feel yourself grow warm. Riddle is still talking, gesturing animatedly with his champagne flute, looking horrendously handsome and like… oh Merlin, he looks like he’s enjoying himself. And that is… Well, quite frankly, that’s enough to make your brain grind to halt from shock.

You’re saved from your inner turmoil by Fleamont who appears at your side and wraps a hand around your waist. Riddle’s expression shutters. He looks at Fleamont’s arm around your waist and sneers and, for reasons beyond your grasp, you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from explaining that Fleamont is just a friend. Fleamont, oblivious as always, grins and asks you to dance and you can’t bring yourself to look at Riddle as he leads you away to the dance floor.

Fleamont is a good dancer. You suppose this is to be expected from the heir to one of the oldest pureblood families in Britain. You imagine that he learnt to waltz before he learnt to walk. You try to focus on the dance, on the way that Fleamont spins you around the room causing your dress robes to fan out around you in an elegant circle but out of the corner of your eye you can see Riddle watching you. He’s subtle about it, you’re fairly sure that no one else would notice, but even as he makes conversation with a wizard you vaguely recognise as Ensio Kiimamaa, widely regarded as the leading Potions Master in contemporary wizarding society, his eyes flicker to where you’re dancing with Fleamont.

You’re really not sure what to make of it.

The dance ends, and Fleamont makes a show of bowing and offering you his arm, which you take with an exasperated laugh. “Let’s go talk to Kiimamaa, I hear he’s thinking about taking on apprentices next year.” As little as you want to go near Riddle for the rest of the night, you can’t think of a good reason to object, so you nod begrudgingly and walk over, trying to convince yourself that the trepidation you feel is a result of being introduced to Kiimamma and not because of the way Riddle’s looking at you.

You make your introductions and Kiimamma begins to explain his latest discovery: a highly acidic venom harvested from the Icelandic water-dwelling vatnaormar. He produces a vial of dark liquid, uncorks it and passes it around the three of you. “It’s highly dangerous to touch, but I’ve found that a sniff of it can induce heightened concentration and focus - I hope to find a way of incorporating it in a potion that’s safe to drink.”

Riddle holds the uncorked venom delicately between his fingers, raising it up to the light to observe the venom and then time seems to speed up and slow down all at once as you watch in horror as two things happen almost simultaneously.

First: A little girl, who you assume to be Kiimamma’s daughter, shakes free of Slughorn’s hold on her arm and bounds over, waving her arms excitedly before losing her balance and crashing into Riddle. Second: the uncorked vial slips from Riddle’s fingers and the venom arches in an elegant curve through the air before it splatters across Riddle’s chest.

The effect is immediate. The venom tears through Riddle’s dress robes in almost no time at all and his skin begins to burn, leaving awful red and pink welts on the pale skin of his chest. The little girl starts wailing and Slughorn and Kiimamma start flapping their hands.

Riddle’s eyes flash in pain and anger and embarrassment and he completely forgets his usual charm and grace as he rounds on the girl. Before he can start yelling at her as he so clearly intends to, you step forward and place your hand on the girl’s shoulder. “It was an accident, Riddle. She didn’t mean to.” You say and then add in a low tone so that only he can hear, “She’s his daughter. Don’t fucking yell at her.” His gaze snaps to yours and there’s a moment when you think he’s going to yell anyway before his jaw clenches and he gives you a single tight nod.

“Riddle, my poor boy, you must go to the hospital wing. Not to worry, I’m sure Madam Montague will be able to sort you out in a flash.” Later, you will be able to appreciate Slughorn’s ability to sound jolly in even the direst of circumstances. Right now, you just find it rather insensitive. Slughorn turns to you and with slightly pleading eyes asks you to escort Riddle. Try as you might, you can’t think of a good reason not to, so with a vaguely helpless glance to Fleamont, you grudgingly nod, scowling at the ground in annoyance.

You loop your arm through Riddle’s and he stiffens under your touch. You repress the urge to roll your eyes and begin to make your way out of the room, ignoring Riddle’s laboured breathing and the slight trembling of his shoulders. It’s only as you get to the door that you notice a tall, dark-haired witch with a jagged scar crossing the length of her face steps out of the floo. Christella Beaufort, the one person who you had wanted to meet tonight has arrived and you’re not going to get to even say hello.

(part 1) (part 2)

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fic #harry potter #minific #prompt #asks #prompt fill #prompt fic #anon #jinxqsu

93 notes · View notes

cyhyr · 3 years

Text

The Eighth Day of Whumpmas:

Drugged

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: T

Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka

WC: ~2110

Warnings: Rape/Non-con (kind of)

Additional Tags: alcohol, past abuse, Consent King Kakashi, anxiety attack, realizations, married KakaIru

A/N: sorry this wasn't posted at my normal time. I got my kid her first dose of the Covid vaccine so tonight's been a bit hectic. If you know me and my writing, I'm sure you'll know exactly who the past abuser is. There is no actual non-con in this fic, but I'm tagging it to be safe!

Tagging: @kelkage @atereal

Anyone else who wants in on the tag list lemme know!

“‘To my dearest rival and the love of his life, with the hopes of many youthful years to come,’” Kakashi reads off the note attached to the bottle of wine left on his desk. He smiles and holds it up to Iruka, who smiles crookedly and crosses his arms. Kakashi continues, “It’s nice that Gai cared enough to drop something off while we were gone, ne?”

“Gai would have followed us to the coast if I hadn’t told him I wanted time alone with you,” Iruka says. “You’re very lucky to have such a great friend.”

Kakashi groans, but there’s no heat and honestly he’s smiling under his mask. “I know.” He tucks the bottle under his arm and quickly checks the rest of the notes left on his desk before determining that they all can wait until morning. When he’s officially back from vacation.

And gods what a vacation it was. The image of Iruka on the beach will never leave his mind, Sharingan or not. And if he just so happens to feel himself begin to forget, Iruka seemed to have enjoyed himself enough that convincing him to go back in another few years shouldn’t be difficult at all. Maybe they can shoot for a third honeymoon for their ten-year anniversary.

He offers his hand to Iruka and says, “Shall we go home?”

Iruka takes his hand, and only then does Kakashi notice the faintest tremor in his spouse’s arm. He cocks his head aside in question, but Iruka laughs and huddles in close. “Sorry, I’m just a bit chilly. I got too used to the warmth of the coast, I think.”

Kakashi wraps his arm around Iruka’s waist and pulls him tight to his side. They start walking. “Then let’s go home and I can warm you up, hmm?”

Iruka chuckles and leans in to kiss his cheek, just above his mask. Then he glances down at the bottle of wine in his arm and asks, “What’s the plan with that?”

He answers, “Well, I figure a glass or two of this and we’ll both be plenty warm. And Gai did get it for us to toast our anniversary, so I think we should take this last night of our vacation and toast away.”

Iruka nods and smiles at him, so it must be a good plan.

They’ve been together for seven years, married for five, and Iruka’s been very careful to avoid alcohol around Kakashi. Not that he can’t drink or that he doesn’t want to; but he remembers what happens when he drinks and that’s something that he never wants to experience with Kakashi. He always has water if they go to bars with their friends, or a soda at restaurants—he even convinced Kakashi to agree to a dry wedding, just so that he didn’t have to explain to anyone else why he wasn’t sharing a dish of sake with his new spouse on their first day as a married couple.

But he’s not sure he can talk his way out of this one. Maybe he can postpone the inevitable, but someday soon Kakashi will break out this wine and pour them both a glass and Iruka—

He could say he doesn’t like alcohol. But he doesn’t want to lie to Kakashi; he does like it, he just doesn’t like what tends to happen after a couple of drinks.

Iruka follows Kakashi through the genkan and into the kitchen, and stands by as he pours them both a glass. Kakashi hands him one, pulls down his mask, and says, “As Gai said, to the love of my life; may we have many more celebrations just like this one.”

He lifts his glass and Iruka feels his face flush a little as he also lifts his glass and then they both drink and—

Look, he knows Gai would never try to drug either of them. And he knows that Kakashi would never purposely get him drunk just to… But that doesn’t change how the alcohol burns down his throat and curdles in his stomach and he’s suddenly feeling unwell. He takes another drink, and another, until the glass is gone and he sets it down empty on the kitchen counter. It was good, but one glass is enough.

Kakashi smirks over the rim of his glass. “That was fast. Still trying to warm up?”

Iruka tries to smile and hopes his nerves don’t come across. Kakashi reaches for the bottle and pours him another half glass.

“Oh, really, one’s enough.”

“Are you sure? You’re not going back to work for another three days,” Kakashi says.

And… he’s right, while Kakashi needs to return to being the village leader tomorrow, Iruka doesn’t return to the Academy for another few days. He… he could have one more.

So they get to talking about their future, and the future of the village, and this and that and all sorts of things. And the second glass turns into three—four—and then the bottle’s empty. He whines a little, watching Kakashi put the empty bottle into the recycling bin.

His stomach hurts. He knows he’s drunk, and he hasn’t felt this way since he was a teenager making bad decisions with—

He reaches out and takes Kakashi’s hands, falls lips first into Kakashi’s face, and feels his spouse chuckle as they begin to kiss clumsily. Iruka starts trying to step backwards, drawing Kakashi with him, knowing that the next place they need to go is the bedroom. Because that’s what always happens next. First he drinks, and then he gets fucked.

“Slow down, love,” Kakashi laughs. “You’ll trip.”

“Don’t care,” Iruka nips Kakashi’s lip. “Want you.”

He brings Kakashi into the bedroom and pushes him to sit on the edge of the bed.

Kakashi leers as Iruka steps in-between his spread legs and ducks down to kiss him some more. His spouse is sexy, and he’s very clearly wanting; however, while he’s okay with looking, and even though he and Iruka have a standing statement of consent, right now Iruka’s drunk and can’t consent. So Kakashi keeps his hands on Iruka’s waist and accepts his kisses and knows that this is as far as he’s going to let this go.

Iruka stops kissing him, whining, and says, “Why aren’t you touching me?”

He strokes his palms up and down Iruka’s sides. “I am touching you.”

“You don’t—that’s not.” He groans, clearly frustrated, and Kakashi laughs. He tries to pull Iruka back in for more kisses, but his spouse steps back and reaches for the hem of his shirt.

He looks on hungrily as Iruka’s chest is bared for him and thinks: gods, he’s so lucky Iruka chose him.

“I need you,” Iruka says, unbuttoning his pants and starting to slide them down his legs, “to fuck me.”

Kakashi’s mouth dries out as he watches more and more skin be revealed. Like they were back to being newlyweds. But there’s a line here between assumption of spousal consent and alcohol-influenced rape and he’s not going anywhere near that line. So he tamps down on his own arousal and looks up at Iruka, holds up a hand and says, “Not tonight, Love. Let’s sleep this off and see how we’re feeling in the morning.”

But Iruka. He very nearly looks close to tears, hearing that. He shakes his head, screws up his face and says, “No, please, you have to fuck me. Please, I’ll—anything, please. Just put me on my knees and take me.”

Kakashi swallows hard and presses the heel of his hand into his crotch because damn he loves it when Iruka starts begging. They’ve played this game before and it never fails to turn him on.

But… but something’s not quite right. He can’t put his finger on it, but somethings—

Iruka slips down to his knees and slides back between Kakashi’s legs, looking up at him through his lashes and says, “Please, please, I’ll be good,” as he starts fumbling with Kakashi’s pants. He’s struck dumb and still as Iruka fishes his dick out and continues, “I’ll hold myself open if you want, I’ll choke on your dick, I’ll take you dry, just please fuck me.”

There.

That’s not Iruka.

Kakashi takes his wrists and pulls his hands away from his crotch. He holds both Iruka’s wrists with one hand and uses the other to tip his chin up to look at him. “Stop, Iruka. What are you doing?”

There’s a sheen of sweat shining on his forehead, and they didn’t drink enough for him to sweat but Iruka’s voice hitches and his eyes start watering as he repeats himself, saying, “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Kakashi lowers himself to the floor so he’s eye-level with Iruka, and cups his face with both hands. Iruka’s own hands drop to his lap; as long as he doesn’t start trying to touch Kakashi again, they’re fine. “What’s going on?” he mutters, trying so hard to keep his own voice steady. Gai didn’t poison the wine—Kakashi didn’t drink as much as Iruka did, but he trusts Gai. With his and Iruka’s life. But this abrupt change in Iruka is scaring him, as he glances between each of Iruka’s eyes trying to implore his spouse to talk to him.

Iruka’s holding back tears and his breath starts coming fast and uneven; and even if he hadn’t ever experienced an anxiety attack on his own he’d know what was happening. He brings Iruka’s face to his own, kisses his forehead, nuzzles their noses together, and asks once more, “Love? What’s going on?”

Iruka starts shaking and Kakashi shifts his hold from his face to his shoulders, to his arms.

“This isn’t. This.” His voice hitches on a swallowed sob. “I thought you wanted me.”

“Love, I do. I love you, I always want you—but not when you’re drunk. Your consent is the sexiest thing you give to me, and you can’t—”

“No, no, nonono,” Iruka reaches up and presses his fingers into his temple. “This isn’t right, something’s not—why won’t you fuck me, please, I’ll be good.”

Kakashi reaches behind himself with one hand and pulls down the coverlet, wrapping it around Iruka’s shoulders. He pulls Iruka to his chest and rocks them side-to-side, making gentle shushing noises. “You’re okay. I know you’re good, you’re always good for me, love. But I’m not—not tonight. You’re always safe with me, I promise. But I don’t want this tonight.”

He babbles on and on, trying desperately to reassure Iruka that they’re not going to have sex tonight and that it’s okay. All the while Iruka cries against his shoulder, shaking and sobbing through his anxiety attack and scrambling to be as close as possible to Kakashi. He doesn’t stop Iruka from seeking out this kind of touch, as he holds him tighter and kisses his hair, his temple, his brow. Iruka eventually cries himself asleep, and Kakashi ensures that he’s wrapped up snuggly before he picks Iruka up and puts him to bed.

Normally, this would be when he would strip down, too, and lay beside Iruka to hold him until morning, but now he’s unsure if he even should. Instead he kneels beside the bed and brushes his fingers through Iruka’s hair and smoothes his thumb across the frown lines on his face. He does this until he’s sure that Iruka’s in a deep sleep, and then goes out into the kitchen.

There’s a small cabinet of alcohol, and he empties it. There’s not much, and he realizes now that they’re all bottles Kakashi himself had bought and drank from. How did he get seven years into this relationship and only now realize that Iruka’s never drank around him before? He pours out each bottle and watches it all flow down the drain.

This night won’t ever happen again. If this is how Iruka gets when he’s drunk, then Kakashi will help him remain sober for the rest of their lives.

When he’s done, he returns to the bedroom and sits down on the floor beside the bed. He’ll stay up all night, just in case Iruka wakes and is still…

But then fingertips brush his shoulder and the back of his neck and he looks back at Iruka—he’s still asleep, but his face is furrowed like he’s worried. Then Iruka lightly twists his fingers in Kakashi’s hair and his face relaxes and he sighs in his sleep. Kakashi smiles, his heart aching. He won’t touch Iruka again tonight, but maybe… maybe he can just hold his hand. Just until morning.

He takes his hand and smiles at Iruka’s unconscious, happy hum.

#amow twelve days of whumpmas #Drugged/poisoned #alcohol #past abuse #anxiety attack #kakairu #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #my writing

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solarwonux · 4 years

Text

prince!mingyu x princess!reader

w.c: 2.2k

warnings: angst, just a lot of it.

note: I KNOW YOU WANTED BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS BUT IT TOOK A TURN AND NOW I HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE CONSEQUENCES. I’M SORRY. anyway I hope you enjoy please please please let me know your thoughts .xx

masterlist || drabble game

Mingyu’s hand was intertwined tightly with yours as he led you further down the hallway of the palace. Away from the boisterous ballroom and the familiar low murmur of gossip and loud laughter of Kings and Queens, Princes and Princesses from all around the Kingdom.

It was the annual ball Mingyu’s parents—the King and Queen held a month after Mingyu’s birth. It was the one out of the two times a year where you got to see the tall handsome Prince, with now freshly teal dyed hair. A rebellious act on his part just to get under his parent’s skin. This is how he always was; his mischievous ways always gave you a certain rush of adrenaline, keeping you on the edge of excitement. The one in which you feared simply because if you hadn’t befriended the boy with the toy sword who went around challenging every single palace official he could spot within the limit of his parent’s ballroom; you wouldn’t be where you were now. With his fingers encased between the empty spots between your fingers as he took long strides down towards the forbidden ballroom the King and Queen always warned about.

“Slow down Mingyu, I don’t have freakishly long legs like you.” You gripped the train of your off-white dress that oddly resembled a wedding dress. The thought alone made your heart race, simply because according to your mother, you were running out of time and needed to be wedded off soon. You figured that was the only reason for the way your dress looked, to give off the illusion of what you would like as a bride to the Kings and Queens that attended the annual ball looking for possible suitors for their offspring’s or in some cases themselves. Yet despite all that, the only person you ever wanted to spend the remainder of your life was with the boy who had stolen you away to chaos havoc around the dark corners of his castle one summer when the two of you had turned nine. The same one who was leading you away from the tiresome crowd, and the one who was already engaged to someone else. A Princess whose family was far better off than yours and checked off all the boxes in the eyes of the king and queen.

“You wouldn’t be having such a problem keeping up if you would’ve just grown a little more after I told you too.” The teasing tone wrapped ever so evidently around his vocal cords, hinting to the summer night a few years ago when the two of you had tried sneaking off into town together. But when you had failed to jump the fence after him, ripping your favorite dress in the process and getting caught by palace officials. He had expressed through gritted teeth and an angry gaze that the two of you would have been frolicking through town instead of getting lectured by both sets of parents if you had only been a little taller and not worn a dress.

“Yes, I’m sorry your majesty next time I’ll let my gene pool know about your request.” You huffed obviously annoyed. Clearly, Mingyu found it entertaining because instead of combating your comment with another teasing one of his he just stopped walking and let out a boyish laugh, causing you to trip and bump into the side of his body. “You’re annoying Mingyu.” You tore your hand away from his and crossed both your arms in front of your body. The gesture alone would’ve been followed by a lecture if your mother had been there to witness it. It was unladylike but who were you to care if it was or wasn’t. The only one you wanted and cared to impress already had his eyes locked on someone else.

“Princess, are you…flirting with me because if so can’t say I’m impressed. Pretty disappointed actually.” He tsked shaking his head as he backed up against the familiar forbidden set of double doors. You were panicked and looked around quickly to see if anyone was in sight, but to your surprise you and Mingyu were truly alone for the first time since sundown. “You would think that after years of knowing me, you would find me endearing instead of annoying, can’t say I’m not hurt by your indifference.” His hand moved slowly to the rustic gold handles and with a smirk followed up by a cheeky wink he opened them. The cold air from the untouched room folding over your lace trim covered arms.

“Mingyu what the fuck are you doing, if they find us, we will never hear the end of it.” You yelled lowly. This had been a familiar sight during the years of your friendship. The two of you always found yourselves in front of the infamous double doors, hands itching to open them to reveal what was hiding behind. To finally see what the King and Queen were so adamant about keeping a secret. Each time you had been caught, lectured until the voices of his parents grew hoarse, while your parents begged them to spare your life. It had gotten to the point in which the two of you weren’t allowed to be alone anymore. The few times in which you found yourselves alone, there was always a palace guard inconspicuously watching from afar.

“A Princess shouldn’t be speaking that way,” he opened the door widely, revealing a dark room where the only light known was the one that belonged to the moon as it filtered in through the skylight. The setting far too intimate for a relationship of your kind. Though, before you could protest and suggest going back to tiresome ball to listen to the same round of gossip for the umpteenth time, he grabbed your arm, dragged you inside and shut the door faster than you could form the words, “and we would only be caught if we stay outside. Now that we’re inside no one will ever know.” He whispered, the low vibrato of his voice sent shivers down your spine, and you thanked all your precious Gods for the limited lighting you found yourself facing.

“Can I ask why we are here then?” You said, the famous rush of gut-wrenching adrenaline you only felt with Mingyu, returned. Instead of answering your million dollar question he simply shrugged and walked back, entering the faint spotlight supplied by the moon. As you looked around there wasn’t much to the ballroom, it was far smaller than the one you were used to spending time it, but it had a variety of glass sculptures that sparkled underneath the light of the moon slowly bringing them to life. Finally, you understood why this room was off limits. It wept with vulnerability so beautiful it took your breath away.

“Care to share a dance with me?” Mingyu all but whispered holding his hand out inviting you in. Though, you had known the reckless prince for the entirety of your life. Never once did the two of you share a dance. It was an ongoing joke between the two of you that dances were only reserved for people you never wanted to see again. It made you wonder if this was Mingyu’s way of finally letting you go. To which you understood even though it brought an ache to your heart so awful that you would rather have someone cut it out completely. Somehow you had convinced yourself that hurt less then actually saying goodbye to the one person you had ever grown to love.

After tonight, the secret trips into town would stop. The letters that shared equal amounts of adoration and frustration would stop. And the mystery of what was inside the forbidden ballroom would stop as well, because now you finally knew enough to be able to close the chapter you had kept opened for years. “Y-Yes.” You cleared your throat and pushed yourself away from your spot against the doors and slowly made your way to Mingyu. “There’s no music playing though.” You added once you were finally in front of him. It wasn’t entirely the truth, the faint melodies coming from the ballroom could still be heard as they bled through the dark walls of the ballroom.

“Where is the rule book that says that you need music in order to dance?” He said wiggling the fingers of his extended hand as a sign that he was waiting for you to take it. “Even if such one exists; I wouldn’t care enough to read it. So just share a dance with me tonight, away from all the stares and all the whispers…but here…alone in the room where I’m meant to share my first dance with my wife.”

“T-Then shouldn’t you save this moment for when it comes, why waste it on me?” You swallowed the thick lump that had formed at the base of your throat. It made sense why this room was off limits and it wasn’t because of how delicate it looked on the outside. It was meant to be shared between a husband and wife, and clearly not between childhood friends. With one suffering from unrequited love.

Mingyu smiled a sad smile and it plucked your heartstrings creating a soft melody that longed for the times in which the two of you had no care for the world around your shared bubble. He grabbed your hand gently and intertwined your fingers together reeling you in and resting his hand against your lower back. “Your hands look so little compared to mind.” He deflected staring sweetly at your hand locked in his. You watched as he shook his head before lifting it, getting deeply lost in your eyes and he silently wondered if your heart was also beating ten times faster than it usually did.

“I-I think we should go Mingyu, we shouldn’t be in here let alone toge—”

“There’s no other person I would rather be in here with than you. I’ve always wanted you to be the one to enter this room with me. Where I can create such an intimate memory one no can take away from me no matter how hard they try to keep up as away from each other. I knew when I met you back when we were kids that I would always love you, but I also knew that my parents would never want you to be by my side when it came to ruling this kingdom. You challenge their views the only ones they have ever known, and it scares them, but their fear will never stop me from wanting you. I already failed once, obviously, but this time I’m not baking up. I’m going to fight for you and your heart even if it means leaving everything I have ever know behind.”

The only time you had ever heard such unfiltered determination in his voice was when the two of you were fifteen. After you had been caught having an unprompted picnic in his mother’s rose garden.

“Don’t think about doing anything stupid Mingyu.” You blinked slowly. You were slow to process his confession because it was everything you had longed to hear. But you also had to make sure that you were in fact here and that it wasn’t your mind playing some sort of cruel joke on you because you had had two flutes of champagne and anything was possible.

“Leave your room open tonight, I have bribed some guards into secrecy, and we can leave tonight. Just you and me just like we’ve always talked about.” He rested his forehead against yours, holding you as close as your dress allowed him. His ears were as red as bricks and you knew that although he was determined to leave everything behind, he was also scared.

“Mingyu.” You sighed and pushed him away, creating enough space between the two of you, a frown forming along his usual soft features. “We can’t, I can’t let you do this. This isn’t some fairytale your mother used to read to you before bed. This is your life and my life on the line. If they find us do you think they’ll greet us back with open arms?” You reasoned backing away from him and the center of the room. Away from the moonlight and into the dark.

“Who cares, they shouldn’t be able to keep us from loving each other. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and if that means living this hell hole, I’ve been so unfortunate enough to be born into then I will and I want you to be by my side.”

“Mingyu, I can’t I’m so sorry.” You continued to move before your back hit the doors, the ridges digging into your back as your hand blindly looked for the handle. You were about to do the one thing you never thought to do. Sacrifice the many years of friendship that had blossomed between the two of you. You were about to break two hearts instead of one all because his safety was more important to you rather then your own happiness.

“Why not?” He took a step forward and into the darkness. He was approaching you faster than you could have ever imagined, and you opened the door in a haste causing him to stop walking all together. Your grip on the door handle was so hard that your hand had started to grow numb. It took every last fiber of your being to not close it again and kiss him like you had always dreamed, but this wasn’t a dream . It was reality, and your reality was never meant to have a happy ending.

“I just d-don’t love you, your majesty.”

#kpopscape #kdiarynet #seventeen imagines #seventeen mingyu #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #svt imagines #svt mingyu #svt fanfiction #svt x reader #svt scenarios #svt angst #mingyu fanfic #mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #mingyu scenarios #mingyu angst

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frozenartscapes · 3 years

Note

I think Verdant Wind being added as Silver Snow copy paste dragged down the development. If VW wasn't added, then SS, CF, and AM could have all been more fleshed out (so Edelgard could have been shown killing Thales personally and Dimitri's arc would be gradual instead of him going from batshit crazy to "good boy" instantly). So I think either VW should have not been made or SS was scrapped and Claude could actually get a story about him.

So here's what I'm thinking for Verdant Wind, because honestly if it were up to me it would be a total overhaul, and if put into the context of the game's development might have had to be a DLC or something if they were as pressed for time as it seems.

You pick Claude and the Golden Deer and the first half of the game follows many of the same story beats. (Though one thing I would like to see in White Clouds is more opportunities to interact with the other Houses outside of free time, like maybe a couple missions where two houses are sent to the same place to back each other up. This would then allow for supports to form between characters who might not necessarily be in the same house).

Shit goes down, Edelgard is revealed to be the Flame Emperor, war is declared, Byleth falls into a ravine for 5 years.

You come back and things are in a similar place as they start off in VW. You meet Claude at the monastery, he fills you in on what's been going on, and you decide that action needs to taken. However, that action is not "let's go to war too" but instead more of a diplomatic move. You decide to meet with Edelgard in a parlay at Grondor and she initially accepts, but when you both arrive you discover Dimitri has come with an army of his own. Not believing this isn't some sort of ambush on Claude's part, Edelgard calls the parlay off and initiates the battle of Grondor. However, this time you and Claude decide to stop Dimitri and successfully manage to intervene in the Kingdom's attack. Edelgard and her forces still retreat back to Enbarr but Dimitri is able to be captured and (eventually) reasoned with. (In this version Dimitri hasn't fully lost it like he does in AM. He still has some old friends and supports so he doesn't end up completely feral. He's still deeply distrusting of Edelgard but he at least agrees to help Claude find out a motive before killing her).

The attack on Fort Merceus is basically the same. You succeed in seizing it only for the whole thing to be blown up by the Javelins. Everyone manages to escape, though, including notable people from Edelgard's army. They are just as confused and horrified about the strike as you and your team.

Edelgard isn't up for talking this time around so you are forced to lay siege to Enbarr. This also plays out very similarly to VW, but the end cutscene is different. First, Claude is there. Then, rather than killing Edelgard, you extend a hand out to her, instead. She's hesitant, but Claude manages to convince her that there are no schemes this time. They just want to talk. He mentions the Javelins and how even her own army didn't seem to know what they were. When she blanches at the mention, he realizes that these "allies" of hers aren't exactly the most trustworthy of people.

Edelgard then reluctantly tells you, Claude, and Dimitri about Thales and TWSITD. She's hesitant because this is all sensitive information but she doesn't have much to lose at this point, what with Claude's army basically occupying Enbarr. She reveals what happened to her and her family, why she has two Crests, and why she's been forced to work with Thales. It's Dimitri who approaches first once she's finished, moving quickly and reaching out a hand before anyone can react. Edelgard flinches but instead of going for her neck, his hand comes to rest gently on her shoulder. "Where is that monster?" Dimitri hisses, "So I can tear his head from his body."

Once the three leaders form a tentative alliance, Edelgard reveals where Rhea has been hidden. She tells them all that she tried to keep her from too much harm, but she didn't have much control over the situation. Rhea is released and initially weak from imprisonment. She is also briefed on what happened to Edelgard, and why she started the war in the first place.

With a new target in mind, the alliance of nations storm Shambhala. Rhea has been healed up enough to aid in this battle. You defeat Thales, and he responds by launching all the Javelins he can. Rhea goes on to intercept them as she does in the game, but this time things go differently. Hubert points out that as long as Thales has a hand on the rune activating the Javelins, they'll keep coming. So Edelgard charges him along with Dimitri. The two cut through any mage who tries to stop them, and ultimately Edelgard sees vengeance for herself and her family by killing Thales herself. This halts the Javelins before they become too overwhelming for Rhea, and she returns, a little hurt but ok.

Everyone returns to Garreg Mach for celebrations, and also political discussions because there are a lot of things that now need to be covered. Rhea reveals everything about the Nabateans, Crests, and the Relics. Once she learns the true history of Fodlan, Edelgard makes her case for her own goals. She still believes that society should move away from putting so much importance on Crests, especially now that she knows where they truly came from. But she admits that uniting the land under one banner and disbanding the Church entirely would be taking things too far. Dimitri agrees with Edelgard, despite some protests from Faerghus officials. But he decides that the Hero's Relics have served their purpose and it is time they let the souls of the dead rest. Claude is insistent on Fodlan opening up to other nations, to which the other leaders agree, too. Rhea also decides that it is time she steps away from being Archbishop, but she does not appoint Byleth to the role.

A messenger then interrupts with news that a strange and powerful army is currently sweeping across Fodlan. They connect the dots and realize that it is Nemesis. They all decide to confront him as a group, showing off the might of a Fodlan united under peace. Rhea, fearful of mass casualties, tells Byleth what she did when they were a baby, explaining why they have the Crest of Flames and can wield the Sword of the Creator. There isn't a lot of time to unpack all of that because Nemesis is basically at their door, but Byleth still thanks Rhea for telling them.

They confront Nemesis all as one united front and defeat him. There are many parallels in cutscenes that call back the first cutscene of the game. The difference this time is that Rhea isn't facing Nemesis alone. In the last cutscene after defeating him in gameplay, Claude's arrow fake-out kicks things off, but it also includes Edelgard, Dimitri, and Rhea charging him alongside Byleth. In the end, Nemesis is run-through by the Sword of the Creator, the Sword of Seiros, Aymr, Areadbhar, and a bolt from Failnaught. He goes down, his army dissolves into dust, and victory is finally secured.

After that it's revealed what happens in Fodlan: each nation stays as their own land. Dimitri takes his place as the King of Faerghus and works on moving the kingdom away from knighthood and militaristic practices. He devotes more time and money to revitalizing the land and towns, building better roads between cities, and expanding education and other important services. Edelgard also works on fixing and providing social services like education and healthcare to the Adrestian people. She forms a strong alliance with the other nations, utilizing the fact that Adrestia has so much viable farmland to ensure no one goes hungry. She also grants Brigid its freedom, and works closely with Seteth and Rhea in Church reformations. Claude leaves Fodlan to take his place as King of Almyra, though he promises to visit often. Lorenz takes over the Alliance, and like the other two leaders works diligently to provide a better life for his people. Rhea eventually steps away from her role as Archbishop. She does offer it to Byleth, but you get a choice as to whether or not you want to take it. If you don't Rhea says she understands and that Seteth will take on a temporary position until a human can be found to carry on the legacy. She agrees that an immortal being shouldn't hold that kind of power forever.

There's one final cinematic cutscene in which every character with a Hero's Relic solemnly returns it to the Holy Tomb, with Byleth laying the Sword of the Creator last. They glance up at the Throne with all the characters visible behind them, and they smile.

Now Sothis can finally rest.

---

A couple other fun things that could be included in this route:

Because of the mentioned supports between houses, it is possible to s-support any of the House Leaders, not just Claude in this route

To make things extra fun, every unit could potentially be playable in the final battle

Edelgard and Thales can have special dialogue where she basically tells him to go fuck himself before killing him with the axe he gave her

None of the Black Eagles who stay with Edelgard would actually die in the siege on Enbarr, but would have unique "oh no I've been captured" quotes

The cutscene with Edelgard's surrender could start exactly like it does in SS/VW so if people saw that first, they would at first think she was going to die. This would then make Byleth extending a hand out in peace that much more impactful

Every now and then Dimitri and Edelgard could make a comment about how odd it is to be working with each other, and how they are still surprised neither one of them died after all those years of war, a BIG wink to the camera regarding the other routes where one or both of them don't make it

Claude can bring in Nader and other Almyran reinforcements for the final battle, and as a result could result in unique battle quotes from Rhea and Nader with the two of them commending each other and realizing that tensions need not be so high between their nations

Because different supports can happen between houses, there isn't as much pressure to recruit everyone by the end of White Clouds

There could be different paralogues for characters, along with ones already in the game that might be route specific. Dimitri's paralogue where he takes on Cornelia can be a side event that helps strengthen the Kingdom's army in future battles. Bernadetta/Petra's paralogue would allow for allies from Brigid to join in future battles. Edelgard could get a new paralogue where they have to sweep out the last remnants of various TWS labs and lairs, and it's made clear just how bad it had been for her.

Like, I know this is a lot, and executing it as a playable section of the game would be a lot of work. This is all just hypothetical, of course. This would be what I would recommend for the game, but as I say this just know that I don't expect any of this to actually be made. These are just some ideas for how VW could theoretically be changed.

The game would still need a route for Claude, as he is one of the three main choices at the very start of the game. I don't necessarily think SS should be removed, either, because that choice of "kill or don't kill edelgard" is still an incredibly poignant moment that would be lost if SS was gone. But I do wish VW or SS played out differently or at the very least used different cutscenes. The fact that Edelgard dies the same way twice kind of sucks. (This, on top of Dimitri dying off-screen multiple times and Rhea basically being kneecapped and not useful in 3/4 routes)

But I like Claude's route being a Golden Route. It is the Golden Deer after all.

#look i might have an edelgard bias #but i honestly think there should be a route where none of them have to die #it would be super cathartic especially after playing the other routes #verdant wind fix #fe three houses #headcanons #au ideas #claude #dimitri #rhea #byleth #edelgard #long post

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buglife · 3 years

Note

Quirrel finally snaps. Royalty au. (He deserves it)

In Which Quirrel Has Enough :O

The morning started off just like any other. Waking up next to Ghost was always wonderful for Quirrel, especially in the big comfy nest gifted from Deepnest. It was like sinking into softness itself, something he and his spouse both appreciated, and there was plenty of room for cuddles. He yawned, stretching a little and turning to nuzzle his spouse to wake them.

“Morning, love.” He whispered, trying to gently wake them.

Usually they would be awake instantly and nuzzling back. Quirrel wasn’t sure if they actually slept now, having taken over the aspect of dreams. Even if they didn’t, they still made sure to be in bed every night to be with Quirrel, and stayed there until morning.

But today...they blearily blinked awake and didn’t nuzzle back right away. He instantly knew something was the matter.

“Dear, what is the matter? Are you alright?” He touched the side of their head and rubbed it in an effort to comfort them.

“Tired….” Came the soft quiet voice in the back of his head. Ghost had a measure of telepathy, but it was something they only did with friends and family. They tended to use sign language everywhere else, afraid of frightening their subjects. The Pale King had it as well, but used his to intimidate and issue orders. Ghost was doing everything in their power to be the complete opposite of their sire, even if it meant limiting their communication. Quirrel was trying his best to convince them otherwise, that their subjects loved them, but it’s taking a while to actually make Ghost believe it.

“You look tired. What where you doing last night?”

Ghost’s mental voice dissolved into a murmur of numbers and figures and laws hundreds of years old. The feeling Quirrel got along with it was an even measure of frustration, bafflement, and an extreme sense of mind numbing exhaustion.

“You were trying to rewrite the tax code last night, weren’t you?”

Ghost sank further into the pillows with a wheeze.

“You know I could have helped you, you silly thing.”

They sank further and didn’t look him in the eyes. He sighed and patted them gently, thinking about the situation to himself. For a long time, Ghost pretty much did everything, leaving Quirrel with the task of planning the rebuilding efforts once they took the throne officially. Ghost was the sole ruler, and the weight and pressure of that all had started to weigh down on them. Sure, they had their friends and allies to help them, but some things you just have to do yourself. Now that he was a king himself (something he still had trouble believing some days until he looks at the ring on his finger), he felt like he needed to do more to help his partner.

“Today, you are going to take the day off.”

They turned their head to look at Quirrel, a look of mild panic on their blank mask. Before they could ‘say’ anything, Quirrel beat them to the punch.

“Look at yourself dear. You are beyond exhausted. You haven’t had anytime for yourself in so long, you need a break. I’m your spouse, your equal now, let me help you take some of the load off yourself, please?”

“But...court? The new code…” They were too tired to properly argue, but Quirrel could feel their worry leak through their words.

“I can do them for once. It can’t be harder than what I usually do.” He thought of his duties, how much traveling he does to other parts of the kingdom to keep up good relations with their neighbors. Some ambassadors were pricks, to be frank. They seemed to enjoy trying to get a rise out of the Scholar King, but Quirrel used his wit to go toe to toe with them. It was fencing, but with words, a subtle dance where each tried to pick out weaknesses and use them to their advantage. Talking to the actual rulers though, was a lot more pleasant. In fact, he’s due to have a meeting with Herrah soon. Hornet would demand he spar with her, but she at least was completely honest with her desires. He thinks Herrah gets a kick out of watching her daughter beat the hell out of a King. She was at least kind enough afterwards to patch up his wounds.

Surely, sitting in a building and talking to the public won’t be that harder than having to actually fight someone every-time he needs to do his job.

Ghost gave them an incredulous look, and then sighed and nodded.

“Excellent, shall I make a pillow fort for you?”

They nodded excitedly, and Quirrel took all the extra pillows from the cabinets to add to the pile. After some time stacking and slinging blankets around, he had made a pillow fort that passed his personal inspection. Ghost retreated inside, and then promptly fell asleep, which vindicated his feeling that Ghost was too damn tired to do anything today. He made sure to put a note on the door for people not to disturb them and made his way through the palace.

It was not the White Palace, that one never came back from the realm of dreams. Ghost had told him that it was for the best, as no sane ruler would have that many buzzsaws. Quirrel inclined to believe them and not ask further questions. Instead, a new one was built, and it couldn’t quite consider it a ‘palace’. It was more of a government building and a place to house the knights of the kingdom. It was a hell of a lot more modest than the White Palace, but it was still nice. The citizens insisted after all and Ghost did not say no to them.

Quirrel would have to admit that the top floor where they both lived was really nice. Their friends and family had gotten their own rooms too, for them to live in or just stay in when visiting. Once Ghost had gotten their deserved family, they refused to be apart from them and was more than happy to have visitors around.

Quirrel made his way down to the ground floor, where court was held. It was just a simple room, decorated in shell wood and tapestries to give it a more calm feeling. A part of the room was dedicated to chairs and benches where petitioners could sit and wait their turn. There was a section where the workers would sit, such as the recorder and paperwork keeper, and next to that, was the thrones, sitting a bit higher than everyone else. Quirrel wasn’t too sure if it was required or not to have the thrones elevated, but just shrugged and went along with it.

Usually Ghost held court with at least two of the new knights of Hallownest keeping guard. In reality, Ghost really didn’t need guarding, but they appreciated some wranglers to deal with the public and the emotional support. It seemed today it was Tiso and Cloth.

“Heya Quirrel.” Tiso gave Quirrel a funny look. “Where’s the Squib?”

“I made them take a day off. They are in their pillow fort at the moment, resting.” He internally snickered. Tiso never stopped calling Ghost ‘Squib’, which would cause nobles to have a conniption whenever they heard it. If they complained, Tiso invoked ‘big brother rights’ and that was that.

“Good, they work too hard.” Cloth adjusted her club over her shoulder. “So you’re holding court today? By yourself?”

Quirrel nodded. “It shouldn’t be too hard. I mean, I will have to do it sooner or later. Why not now?”

Tiso and Cloth shared a look. They looked...apprehensive.

“Just be prepared, you get a mixed bag of people. Some are rather um…”

“Super fucking stupid. And spoiled.” Tiso finished for Cloth, gesturing to the still closed doors.

“They can’t be that stupid!” Quirrel took his seat on his throne (which is still completely unbelievable to him). There were two, the other was for Ghost, built side by side. There used to be just one, but well, now there was a need for two. At least they were comfy. For a moment he did want Ghost to be here by his side, but he was firm in the believe that his poor spouse was in dire need of a break. So, he will endure.

“They can and they are. Don’t get me wrong, most folks that come in are really nice, but you get a few every-time that cause trouble. We’ll be here to help you out, no worry.” Cloth gently patted Quirrel on the head. Cloth the Strong was the title given to her after she was knighted, and he was glad to have her here.

“Yeah if you want us to throw them out the windows, just say so.” Tiso of course, didn’t give too fucks. They couldn’t call him Tiso the Ant Who Doesn’t Give Two Fucks, so instead he became Tiso the Daring.

“Thanks guys.” Quirrel felt a little emboldened by the support of his friends. “Go ahead and open the doors, we’ll get set up and I think we can start court for the day.” Tiso flashed a thumbs up, opening the doors to let the various workers of the court come in to take their positions. Once settled, he nodded, and the first petitioner was called in. Quirrel sat up straight, making himself as approachable as he possibly could. He was a pillbug after all, they are usually considered cute, so it wasn’t like he had to try hard.

He smiled at the beetle who walked in and stood before him.

“Hello there, my friend, what can the court do for you today?”

The beetle took a breath before speaking. “I’m petitioning the court to ban nails entirely.”

Quirrel boggled as his brain ground to a halt, did he really hear what he just heard? It took him a moment for him to be able to speak properly.

“Ma’am, we use nails to protect the people and for individuals to defend themselves. Why in the world do you want to ban nails?”

She tutted “Well my little Perler keeps trying to pick up other people’s nails and he could get hurt! It’s dangerous to have those around anyone, let alone children!”

“Well then, if we do ban nails, how else would you expect the royal guard to defend you from threats? How do you expect travelers to protect themselves when alone? How do you expect the average citizen to defend themselves should they be attacked?” Quirrel tried to use logic, but to no avail.

She looked Quirrel straight in the eyes. “That’s for you to figure out, right?”

Quirrel sighed.

---

It was official, he wanted to be anywhere but here. He kept glancing at the ornamental hourglass in the hall, watching the grains of sand fall one single piece at a time. It was like the sand wasn’t draining at all, that he was trapped in this one moment forever. This was officially torture.

Sure, a few legitimate bugs came in with reasonable requests. Asking for information to form a legal town militia? Sure go down the hall and to the left and there’s a bug to help you with that. Asking for funds to renovate an empty building for printmaking? That’s reasonable, we need all the books we can get. Asking for a possible sliding scale tax model for citizens based on income? Thank you for that idea, we will look into it when we can. Hell, some little kid somehow managed to make their way inside and asked Quirrel if he could make it illegal to deny dessert. He said he’d discuss it with his spouse but most likely they’d agree to make it a law. The kid left, skipping in glee and Quirrel felt himself smiling. He mused a bit of a possible ‘kids only’ court session just so they all can hear whatever these kids could come up with. It would be a welcome break, maybe a holiday? He’ll talk to Ghost later about it.

However, for every reasonable bug, came three that was dumber than a bag of hammers.

“I propose a tax cut for my business because making gold plated luxury monocles are essential to society.”

“Those Deepnest beast-folk are poisoning our society and corrupting our children! I request that they be deported entirely!”

“I’d like to propose a debate on lowering the age of consent.” (Quirrel had that one hauled off by the guard for questioning).

“I want this book banned because the author argued against the noble class and it hurt my feelings.”

On and on, it steadily got worse as the more opulent members of society came out to air their ‘concerns’. He had started to just dismiss them when they came at him with ridiculous requests, only prompting them to start whining. And boy, could they whine. He could feel his antenna vibrate under his hood with the shrill pitch of entitlement. He did his best to be polite, to gently let these people down. But they just kept coming, and coming.

When the next noble asked for him to tear down the local children’s playground because he wanted to build a second business there, Quirrel snapped.

“ENOUGH!”

He stood up from his throne, staring down at the weevil before him.

“No, I will not tear down a source of enrichment and enjoyment for our citizen’s children to satisfy your selfish desires!” Quirrel’s words were tense as he hissed them through clenched mandibles.

The weevil, that before was so bold, now cowered. Quirrel was someone who was rare to anger, that had a sense of calm and warmth that made most folks comfortable. But here, he had a dangerous aura about him, eyes glinting with chaos and the sense that he probably caused some destruction on purpose before. Here was a scientist, raised by Monomon the Teacher, a being known for her inability to take shit and being able to dish it back twice as bad. That was a terrible mix indeed.

Tiso and Cloth looked at each other, and then stepped back. Quirrel will let them know if he needs them, and they want to see what goes down.

“I want everyone, who’s court petition would only benefit themselves, to leave. This is not a place to fulfill your want for power and riches. This is a place to hear the concerns to the citizen and to help them with said concerns. This is a place for anyone, rich or poor, big or small, to bring awareness to how we, the court, can care for them.”

He glanced down at the weevil who was still cowering, and narrowed his eyes.

The weevil, had a smidgen of bravery to comment. “Okay, my liege, we can just come back later and ask Sov-”

“You will NOT, bother my spouse with your wretched and idiotic statements!” Oh, he was angry now. Children being told no asks another parent for a different answer, but not an adult. He could scarcely believe it. He has seen selfishness before, but not to this degree. “ESPECIALLY since you think you are above the happiness and joy of all the children in the city! And let me tell you, if you asked my spouse that question, you’d earn yourself a stint in the dungeon to rethink your priorities. They love children a hell of a lot more than arrogant pricks like you. Now get the hell out of my sight!”

The weevil booked it, a sizable portion of nobles scurrying after. It didn’t take long for the room to nearly clear out completely, leaving only a handful of bugs. As Quirrel took a deep breath to calm down, a spike of fear shot through his heart. He had lost his cool, here, in front of his subjects. Were they going to be afraid of him? Would they be afraid to come to court now and bring up legitimate problems?

He took a second look to see that most of them were in various fits of laughter.

He sighed in relief and slumped back in his throne.

Tiso leaned down to whisper “Nice one, nerd, I think you scared them off for a while.”

“Here’s hoping.” Quirrel sighed in return and rubbed his eyes. Once composed, he sat up again, and called the next petitioner to him with a smile.

“How can I help you, my friend?”

“Yeah um.” The ladybug looked back at the door where the group of nobles had fled. He recognized her to actually be one of the nobles that had stayed. “I propose a request to strip nobles of their titles should they prove that they do not have the best interests of the citizens in mind.”

Quirrel grinned. “You know what, that is a fine idea!”

---

Being a king was exhausting. Quirrel barely dragged himself up to his bedroom, the day had turned to night and finally, all the work was done. All he wanted to do was not have to think at all for the rest of the night. How the hell did Ghost manage this every day? Especially before when it was just them doing most of everything? Quirrel now had a better appreciation for what his spouse does, and is still determined to lighten their load and share the burden equally.

He barely made it in the room before he was snatched up by Ghost, who was instantly purring and nuzzling his face. “Ah! Ghost!” He couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a little better as the love of his spouse seeped into him. It was wonderful. “Hello to you too, my darling.”

Ghost chuffed and gave one last head bonk, and carried him to the still stable pillow fort. They crawled inside, dragging them within where a few lumaflies fluttered about to provide light. It was warm and cozy, and Quirrel sank into their arms with a sigh. Ghost snuggled up, making them comfortable in their little nest. “Today was...interesting.”

Ghost touched their mask to his and felt the quiet voice in the back of his head. “Yes. Tiso told me when his shift ended.”

Quirrel groaned. “Did he now?”

Ghost nuzzled him affectionately. “He told me you handled court splendidly.”

“I don’t know, I lost my cool. I should have been able to deal with it all like an adult, not by loosing my temper like a child.”

“Sometimes you have to fight fire with fire.” Ghost leaned back, pulling Quirrel down with them so they can sink into the various pillows. “I am also sure you have just endeared yourself to our subjects doing that.”

“Are they always that bad?” He asked, sighing. He snuggled up to Ghost, who rested their head on his. “The nobles?”

“Yes. But that just gives us some...amusement.”

“Amusement? I felt like someone was digging into my brain with a pickaxe!”

“Think about it. The opportunity for pranks. Like how father and your mother took them out during the coronation ball. It was splendid.” They chirped softly in laughter. Quirrel couldn't help but smile at that. Indeed, that was absolutely hilarious. Especially when Oro punted those stuck nobles out of the door and sent them flying. He could deal with a bit of a headache here and there to see that sort of thing again.

“You know what?” He said, grabbing a blanket and pulling it up around the both of them. Ghost sighed sleepily and Quirrel knew he won’t be far behind.

“What?”

“I could get used to this.”

Ghost was both delighted, and terrified.

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sabraeal · 3 years

Text

If All Else Fails Just Play Dead

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Swan Princess AU

There is a boy in her house.

Two boys, actually; not counting Uncle, who is the Margrave Entaepode, or Papa, who acts like he is, or Raj, who everyone simply tolerates because there are worse things than having the first prince adopt your heir as their particular friend, and all of them start with denying said prince what he wants.

(And also because when he’s not trying to flex all his royal powers at once, Raj can be almost tolerable. He at least believes in magic, which gives him a leg up over just about every other boy Shirayuki has known, save for uncle, even if he doesn’t know any himself.)

Sakaki is also not to be counted, though she feels bad about it, on account of how often she typically forgets that Sakaki is a boy and not just some boy-shaped furniture Raj travels with, like how he always brings his pillow and his favorite chair. She’ll have to remember to bring him some extra pastries from the kitchen as an apology.

No, these are two entirely foreign boys, shipped straight from the court of the King Who Isn’t, as her father calls him-- though not within his mother’s hearing. Shirayuki is resigned to make the best of it; Uncle asks for so little, and she is the Lady of the Manor, even if she only comes by the title from a lack of older women to fill it. If she must, she can entertain their guests, but that doesn’t mean she has to like it, not one bit at all.

A shelf rattles, jostling the books on their bindings. Shirayuki’s fingers nearly dint a page as she turns it, but she does not look up. To look up would be to give in, and even if she is charged with entertaining, she does not need to be the entertainment.

It rattles again, now with two giggles to accompany it. Excellent. It seems both her troubles are accounted for.

With a sigh, she collects herself. This is what is fair, after all. It is her duty to see after Entaepode’s guests, and Papa is already taking on the brunt of the Her Majesty’s needs, as well as the marquis’ that travels with her. Not that she would have minded if he wanted to switch; Queen Haruto at least seemed like the sort to enjoy a quiet afternoon in the library.

A leg swings over the top of the shelf, long and skinny and ending in a particularly scuffed boot.

Very much, Shirayuki thinks, slapping her book shut on the table, unlike her son and his companion.

“You’re not supposed to do that.” She means to be mild, but each sound falls so waspish from her lips that it could sting. Oh, Uncle will be displeased when he finds out she was rude to their esteemed guests. “It harms the books.”

A sly, cat’s grin shines down on her as a second leg follows the first. “We’re just on the shelves.” Obi twitches his shoulders in a lazy excuse for a shrug. “It’s not like we’re ripping out pages.”

Of the three of them, he’s older-- oh, well, both boys are older than her, but he’s oldest. Only a few years shy of being a man in his own right; the sort of older that’s supposed to know better. Not that he looks it-- Obi’s supposed to be thirteen, but he’s barely an inch taller than Prince Zen, showing none of the stretch in his limbs that boys his age should before they come into their growth.

His feet dangle, just at the level of her nose, and uncharitable irritation itches in her thoughts. Maybe he’ll be one of those boys who’s small forever, a man in a child’s body. The sort of boy she’ll be looking down on instead of up at, should she get Papa’s height, or Uncle’s.

“The shelves are where the books live,” she tells him officiously, fists high on her hips. “And if you knock it over, then you might hurt your spine, or worse, one of theirs! Or even worse,” she adds with no little horror, “you might tear out a page!”

He blinks, those wide, gold eyes flashing like candlelight. “Huh.”

She conjures up Uncle at his most imperious as she says, “This isn’t a training yard.”

“How would you know?” The shelf wobbles, and a pale white mop heaves itself over it. The second Prince of Clarines is pinch-faced, like he’s always just finished sucking on a lemon, and pale as an invalid. She could believe he was bedridden, from the way he keeps waiting to be served. “It’s not like you’ve ever been on one.”

A breath hisses between her teeth. It’s not from lack of trying, she wants to say; her last birthday, Papa has trousers sewn for her, plus a shirt and waist. He’d promised her a sword, even traipsed her through the halls to the yard, but Uncle had been waiting right at the gate, mouth drawn to a forbidding line.

What are you thinking, Mukaze? She’d heard him growl, her ear pressed tight to the study door. My own heir, and you put a blade in her hand.

If she were a boy, you’d have thought I’d done it too late, Papa had replied, easy as always, the way that would drive Uncle mad. I don’t see the harm--

Of course you don’t. Uncle had never sounded so cold, so bitter as he did in that moment. You never do.”

Her stomach twists, slithering around like a nest full of snakes, only getting more knotted, more sick as she thinks about it. Uncle and Papa were close as brothers, surely--

Surely, she shouldn’t be worrying about this at all.

“Why are you wearing all that black?” she snips instead, ignoring the heat that licks up her neck. “It’s summer.”

It’s not doing him any favors either; all that thick velvet just makes his limbs skinny and his face more drawn, like he’s a skeleton rather than a boy.

The prince stills, legs no longer kicking, lips no longer flapping; just a steady, slow rise and fall of his chest. Obi-- a study of constant motion-- doesn’t even do that; instead he sits, utterly immovable, and stares.

With a voice chilled with the winter he’s never felt, His Highness finally says, “My father died.”

She’d known that, she had. His Majesty died a year ago, her Uncle even told her, their legs pressed tight on his study’s sofa. She liked doing that, lining bone to bone, like they might one day be a matching set, margrave and heir both. Another pair of shoulders to carry the burden of rule, after so many years of an absent, broader pair.

Her Majesty has ever been a bosom companion to this family, he’d continued, a strange tightness to his voice. Now that her mourning is over, she is bringing her youngest son to visit. I’m sure your father would be pleased if you became...as close as they.

So much for that. Uncle would be so disappointed-- not only had she scolded the prince, but she’d insulted him too, and--

And he had started it. Her mouth settles into a thin line, so like Uncle’s.

“So did my mother.” So long ago that she is barely more than a song and a scent. Still, there is no ceding ground, not to Prince Zen; every inch she gives him yields a mile, and he considers it his due. “And you don’t see me walking around in velvet during high summer.”

The prince’s skin is pale as moonlight, the envy of every maid in the manor, but it flushes an angry red now, his body trembling to contain him. “My father, he sputters, leaping off the shelf, “is more important than your stupid mother ever will be.”

Papa praises her for her even-temper. Just like your mother, he laughs, not as boldly as he is wont. You never let anything under your skin. Not like me. Though all our impulse certainly bred true.

Anger, Uncle would say in his soothing voice, every syllable measured, makes a man a fool. You would do well to eschew it if you can, my little girl.

So it is not that Shirayuki is angry; oh no, she is incandescent.

Her finger curl, carving pitted crescents in her palms. For once she is glad that magic is consigned to history books and scholars in their towers, for if she could but call fire to her fingertips, this whole library would be alight. Her mother may be more sense than solid to her, but there is not a stone here she has not touched, and--

Well, Uncle is right, but Shirayuki is content to be stupid.

“Maybe so,” she says, so calm, so even, just as Uncle might. “But at least people liked her.”

For a moment, Prince Zen looms, every line trembling, and she is convinced that he will raise a hand to her, that he will truly treat her as her father’s mouth has earned her. But instead he spins on his heel, stalking out of the library with naught a word.

Wrath leaves her at once, a spirit exorcised from her chest, and oh, she’s dizzy with the lack. Her hand reaches out, meaning to grab for the chair--

But another hand grabs it instead. Shirayuki had never noticed at what a patrician angle Obi’s nose sat, not until he stares down it at her, his face a smooth bronze mask.

“That,” he says, finally sounding his age, “was badly done.”

Had her father sat her down after that terrible, disastrous morning, and told her that one day she would consent to marry the prince, Shirayuki would have--

Well, she would have done something Uncle wouldn’t approve of, surely. And she had, when Papa sat her down not too long after the queen’s carriage disappeared into the horizon, and told her that their union had been agreed upon, dowry and all. But to think she would ever want to, that she herself would gladly make the plans-- impossible.

If only it had stayed that way. If only she had remembered why she’d waved him off at arm’s length every summer, why she’d tossed him in the pond when he tried to kiss her at fifteen and told him he’d have better luck finding a princess of his own species in there. At least then she might be able to scuttle this whole wedding, instead of having Papa and Haruto cluck at her pitifully when she asks, telling her that it would all work out eventually.

After all, hadn’t she loved him just last night?

Shirayuki huffs, rolling to her side. She’s no longer livid, which is an improvement; last night she’d thought quite long and extremely hard about how many tapestries she would need to tear from the walls to get a good, solid bonfire to catch and burn Wistal palace to its very stones. Once she started considering where the custodians might keep turpentine, or whether she could wheedle the key to the cellars out of the chatelaine, she’d forced herself to lay down. Few things had ever made her so angry that they couldn’t be solved by a good night’s rest.

Wrath and rage has cooled, but not to her usual levelheaded calm, the answer filling her with vim and vigor and a dangerous determination. Oh no, instead her fine barrel of fury has turned to melancholy, and with each minute that ticks by, she drinks a deeper draught.

Is beauty all that matters to you?

Even now her breath catches at the roiling confusion in Zen’s eyes. What else is there?

“What was I thinking?” Her fists clench at her sides, but it’s not enough, not until she brings them to her eyes and pressed down, colors sparking across her eyelids. “Why did I...?”

She thought he had changed. They all had, these last few years, hadn’t they? No longer the three children that had tripped over each other in her uncle’s halls, bickering and pinching and causing trouble wherever they roamed. Shirayuki’s temper had mellowed. Zen had grown taller-- or at least tall enough to please him. And Obi--

Obi should be here. And now he’s not, and it’s yet another why she has no answer to.

A timid knock brushes against her door, followed by an even softer, “M-my lady?”

Shirayuki pulls her fists from her eyes, blinking away the blur. “Come in.”

A small girl slinks inside, dark eyes wide and round. “M-my lady...” Her brow furrows. “Your hands are wet.”

She glances down, staring at the fingers laces so tightly in her nightgown. Her knuckles do indeed shimmer in the light, right where they had been pressed along her eyes. “So they are. I...suppose you are here to dress me.”

“Ah...” The maid loses her certainty, eyes darting around the room. “About that...”

Her heart leaps in her breast. “Has something happened?”

“Ah, well.” The girl winces. “There’s a bit of a, um, problem. With the arrangements.”

“The arrangements?” Shirayuki echoes.

“Ah...”

That’s when she hears the screams.

Her twelfth summer marks the moment that this arrangement becomes completely, irrevocably unfair.

“I don’t see what the problem is.” Branches shiver above her, the only sign of Obi a few flashes of black and buckskin and the leaves quivering in his wake. “You two have gotten nearly civil these days.”

“But you’ve gotten tall,” Shirayuki grouses, tucking herself between the roots of the old oak, book sprawled upon her lap. “Any day now you’ll be head and shoulders taller, and what if Zen’s the same? I can’t be the smallest.”

“Well.” She can’t see him, but she knows he settles above her, perched on a branch too precarious for his size. “You are a girl.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be tall.” A finger taps against the page, thoughtful. “Haruto is.”

“For a lady.”

“For anyone,” she corrects primly. “It’s fine enough for you to be tall-- you’re tolerable. But Zen...” She grimaces. “His height it the only thing that keeps him humble. The king isn’t tall, is he?”

“He is,” Obi informs her with relish. “Almost taller than my father, and he’s not done growing.”

She pictures it, Zen being able to look Haruka square in the eye, and shudders.

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Shirayuki sighs, finger knitting in her lap. “Uncle should forbid you from coming. You can stay for now, but next summer is right out.”

It’s strange how even though she can’t see him, she can feel his grin on the air. “I’m sure nothing would make him happier.”

“Or me,” she admits, wistful. “What good neighbors Zen and I might be, if we never had to look at each other again. Save for weddings and births and funerals, of course. And you’d always be welcome, Obi.”

“Thanks.” He drops down one of his too-long legs, toes curling in the air above her, the only visible part of him. “But I wasn’t talk about the Young Master.”

Shirayuki blinks, mouth curving in confusion as she parses his words. “You can’t mean Uncle.”

Obi leans, just enough for her to see his dubious, arched brow. “Why not?”

“Uncle’s always liked Zen.” He’d been the one to calm her when she’d come crying, distraught that Papa would make her marry a boy as pompous as him. Plenty of boys grow out of their pettiness, little girl, he’d told her, smoothing the wild riot of her hair, at least as many that don’t. “Even now, he’s with him, showing him the march.”

“Only because your father asked him,” Obi says, settling back into the canopy. “The next Margrave Entaepode needs to know what his lands can bring. Especially if he means to bring them to his brother.”

Shirayuki frowns. “I’m the next Margrave Entaepode.”

“No,” Obi hums. “You’re the next margravine.”

Shirayuki is not sure what she expects when she walks into Clarines’ great hall, but it is certainly not carnage.

“What happened?” she breathes, picking her way over a toppled chair. There’s not a scrap of fabric that’s not torn, not a table nor chair without a wobble. Flower petals lay strewn on the ground, and the cake--

“Oh no,” she sighs, “I was so looking forward to desset.”

It’s toppled, every tier crushed to the stone beneath it, buttercream and jam and custard smeared up and down the aisle. It had been a gift from the Seirans; Zen had been so excited to know their much-beloved cook had made each layer with him in mind-- Except one, Obi reminded him, swiping a bit of cream from a spoon. You know who Cookie loves best.

“A beast did it,” the steward tells her, near to tiers. “Knocked it over, then even stopped to take a bite.”

“Three bites,” a maid chimes in. “Odd, it was. I could have sworn it thought about it too, just stood there looking as Cook came in, shouting to high heaven, and ate its share.”

Shirayuki glances down. “Flew? As in-- with wings?”

“Yes,” the steward agrees, “it had wings, and a mouth with cruel teeth.”

“There weren’t no teeth,” the chatelaine snaps waving the wailing man off. “It was just a bird. Swan, I think, from the size. And the meanness. Came in here like a holy terror, it did.

“It was a beast with teeth,” the steward insists, “and it bit one of the footmen!”

The chatelaine huffs. “What did you expect, trying to grab it like that?”

Shirayuki can’t help but agree; she’s bitten more than a man or two that tried to catch her as well. But that’s not what has her attention now; instead it is the cake on the floor, those three big bites out of it, baring chocolate sponge and raspberry custard. The layer Cookie made special. The one she thought would go to waste when...

“Where is he now?” At their looks, she amends, “I mean, it. The beast.”

“Outside,” the steward says, sending a narrow look toward the door. “A few of the maids managed to chase it out, but I’m afraid it will have gotten into the decoration-- my lady, where--?”

“I’d like to take a look,” Shirayuki calls back, slippered feet already carrying her to the door. “I, ah, think I might know how to solve this...problem?”

The steward blinks. “Is there some...Tanbarunian folk tradition for this? Ridding the grounds of a foul beast?”

Her feet stutter at the threshold, and she swallows down a laugh. “Certainly something for removing one fowl.”

At thirteen, Shirayuki will admit, Zen becomes tolerable. Not without extreme duress, and certainly never if Obi is around, but being in his presence no longer feels like slivers under her fingernails. Now it’s just that unpleasant drone of cicadas, the same that herald his arrival every summer.

“Are you supposed to be climbing?” she asks, settling herself at the base of the tree’s trunk, as always. “Your mother won’t thank you for ruining those trousers.”

Obi laughs, already deep in the canopy. “I think you mean his laundress.”

“I have plenty more,” Zen scoffs, levering his boot over another knot, giving him the height to reach the first branch. “And I think you’re only so cross because you can’t climb for beans.”

She retracts her opinion. His Highness has certainly not become tolerable in the least.

“Come off it,” Obi laughs, so easy in his bower. “Anyone can climb.”

Zen grins down at her with smug authority. “Not Shirayuki, she’s a girl.”

“So is Kiki,” Obi reminds him, “and if she heard you talk like that, she’d come up and throw you off that branch herself.”

“Kiki hardly counts as a girl--”

“--That’s not what Mitsuhide would say--”

“--And that doesn’t mean Shirayuki can,” Zen adds, tone brooking no argument. “She doesn’t even have trousers on.”

“Shirayuki can climb in a dress just fine.” Obi swings down, right to the lowest branch. Or rather, the second lowest, since Zen hasn’t vacated the first. “Come on, I’ll tell you how.”

She spares the tree a dubious glance. “Are you sure--?”

“Always. Don’t you trust me?” He lowers down a hand, callused and bronzed, and she takes it. “Good, now put your foot there. Now just...think up.”

She sends him a dubious look. “I don’t think it’s possible to just go up by thinking it.”

He grins down. “You’d be surprised.”

Shirayuki is definitely ruining her dress.

“You’re sure it’s up here?” she calls down, a worried swarm of footmen huddling beneath her. “Waterfowl aren’t really...tree-dwelling birds.”

“I’m sure, my lady,” one pipes up beneath her. “Took to wing, then hopped up the branches easy as you please.”

Shirayuki casts a long look up the oak, sighing. “Of course he did.”

One slippered foot lifts, hooking over a thicker branch, resting her weight right by the trunk.

“Just think up,” she murmurs, irritation rising with every word. “Just think up and it’s hardly anything at all.”

“HONK,” agrees the goose above her.

“Oh.” She blinks, taking in the sleek white body and the webbed feet tucked unnaturally beneath it. Well, not that the pose was unnatural, but the place. “You’re not a swan at all.”

“HONK,” the goose informs her, wistful this time.

“Be glad,” she says, reaching for him. “If you were any bigger, I wouldn’t be able to carry you, and you’d be stuck up here with your big wings and bad decisions.

The goose ducks it head, abashed. “HONK.”

“You better,” she starts, trying to wrangle a bird his size beneath her arm, “be exactly who I think you are.”

This close, her fowl friend doesn’t dare express his opinion at the only volume nature saw fit to give him, but instead, cuddles right against her neck. For one, weak moment, Shirayuki leans against the trunk, letting her head sink into his feathers. Please let this be him. If it is, she can worry about the how later. Maybe even the why. As long as he hasn’t abandoned her, there’s nothing--

“Not to interrupt you,” a lady’s languid voice drawls beneath her. “But I’m assuming that you might need some help getting down.”

Fifteen is when Shirayuki is made aware of just how utterly unfair her life will be from now on, now that she’s to be the wife of a prince.

“No, no,” Obi laughs, nervous. “I think the Young Master has it right this time, Miss. You can’t come.”

“Why not?” He’s gotten much taller now, taller even than when he arrived, and she has to look up to guilelessly meet his eye, much more than she’s used to. “If I can climb trees with you, I can splash around in a pond just fine--”

“Yes, but--” his mouth split into a pained grimace-- “climbing trees doesn’t involve taking off clothes. You can see how that might be a, hm, problem now, can’t you, Miss?”

“No.”

His exasperation is completely unwarranted, considering how exasperating he’s being. “You’re a lady.”

“One that can swim,” she counters. “We’ve done it before, I don’t know why it’s bothering you now.”

“Because you’re...” He waves a hand at her, a harried up and down, but she only stares back. “Of all the things for Master to leave to me...”

“I can keep my shift on,” she offers, “if that helps.”

“It really doesn’t, Miss.” Obi sighs, one hand coming up to rub at his shoulder. “Surely your father-- no, your uncle. Surely your uncle’s talked to you about how boys and girls shouldn’t, um...you know.”

“I don’t.”

“It’s just...” He takes a steeling breath. “Miss, you’re a woman now. You can’t be naked with men.”

She wrinkles her nose. “I said I would wear my shift. And besides, you’re not men, you’re boys.”

Obi head rolls heavenward. “Only to you.”

Shirayuki gives him a considering look and pulls out her trump card. “Would you let Kiki Seiran come?”

She doesn’t know this Kiki Seiran, not from anything more than what’s been said in her presence, but she knows-- whatever a man does, Kiki does, and better too. The moment her name leaves her lips, Obi drops her a helpless glare.

“Kiki,” he says, as if savoring the word, “doesn’t count. No one lets Kiki Seiran do something, she just does it, and we all live with the consequences.”

A fond smile flickers across his lips, and for no reason at all, her stomach twists. “You should marry her.”

Obi blinks. “Huh?”

“Kiki Seiran,” she says lightly. “It seems she’s really quite impressive.”

For a long moment he stares at her, unblinking. Then he coughs, one, twice, until it’s no longer a cough but roaring laughter.

Shirayuki stares at him. “Is something funny?”

“Oh, Miss,” he wheezes. “That’s some vote of confidence, but Kiki Seiran-- she’s not for the likes of me.”

The sick knot in her stomach dissipates into affront. “Why not? There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Again, you really know how to compliment a man,” he teases. “But no count worth his acreage will marry his daughter and heir to a bastard. With her pedigree, they’re probably planning to marrying her to Elder Highness as we speak.”

“Well, that’s silly,” she huffs. “You’re worth a thousand princes Obi. Any lady would be lucky to have you.”

His smile wavers. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“You should bring her next time,” she decides. “I can talk to her.”

“Ah,” he coughs, shaking his head as he traipses after her. “That won’t be necessary at all.”

This is not how she thought she’d meet the illustrious Kiki Seiran, her wedding dress torn to rags and goose hugged tight in her arms, but it would not be the first time today fate thwarted her expectations.

“I’m fine,” Shirayuki assures her, slowly making her descent. “But do you have, um, water?”

One elegant brow arches. “Water?”

“Ah, yes.” She drops down before her-- oh, Lady Seiran is...quite a bit taller than she’d imagined, and at least twice as pretty. No wonder Obi always smiled when he talked about her. “Like a, um, lake? Or a river might do?”

“A lake?” Her gaze drops, mouth canting into a thoughtful line. “For your avian compatriot, I suppose. You think his home must be close by.”

“Yes,” she lies, because babbling about ancient texts she’s certain she was never supposed to see and magic of the blackest sort seemed a poor first impression to make. “It would probably, uh, help with the...destructive behavior.”

“He has left quite a spectacle behind. It will take hours to clean that up. Or days,” she adds with a pointed look toward the goose. “Your wedding seems to be thoroughly postponed.”

Good, she doesn’t say. This Kiki Seiran is Zen’s friend too, after all. And even if Shirayuki could have shaken him to pieces last night, she’s that too.

“Water?” she says instead.

It’s the right thing to say, since Kiki turns around, gesturing toward the treeline. “There’s a pond back there. Just follow the cobblestone path and it should take you right out to the dock.”

“Perfect.” Shirayuki takes two hurried steps before pausing, turning over her hip to add, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Kiki. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

There’s that brow again, lifted into an elegant arch Shirayuki could never hope to mimic. “Only good things, I hope.”

Her stomach lurches as she replies, “The best.”

#obiyukibingo21 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #swan princess au #my fic #ans #listen this is another fic where like #i want to write the 50K lead up #the political intrigue that leads to this whole arrangement #and the magic #and obi and shirayuki and zen as kids who BARELY like each other and then become besties and then have this LOVE TRIANGLE #the whole terrible relationship between Uncle and Mukaze and Shirayuki's Mom and Haruto and KAIN #sideplots with Izana and Raj #like guys i have THOUGHTS #one day i'll come back around and write more of this #or someone will make me #WHO KNOWS #😂

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reinerispretty · 4 years

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rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt20

HELLO and thank you for reading!!! i appreciate you very very much :D

pt1

pt19

pt21

It was exhausting to put on a beaming smile and cheerful attitude to interact with others, but (Y/N) had learned at a very young age that first impressions were everything. If the leaders of other nations liked her, their chances of working together with the Fire Nation to rebuild the world were doubled.

(Y/N) was having a miserable time. The night that was supposed to be the biggest celebration in over a century was now soiled. She had spent so hard working on it and making sure that everything was absolutely perfect, and now she wasn’t even enjoying herself.

She sat at the large rectangular table before the crowd. Zuko was to her left, Katara to her right. On Zuko’s other side sat Mai. The two were engaged in casual conversation that (Y/N) was trying her best to drown out. It was hard to maintain a pleasant expression on her face when her heart had been broken just hours ago, but she was managing. The purpose of this night was more than a celebration after all, it was a political step forward in the right direction and (Y/N) wouldn’t let her sour mood get in the way of that.

Still, Katara’s constant worried looks weren’t helping her mood either. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Katara whispered. (Y/N) nodded and gave her a tight smile.

“Just great,” She said, picking at her food with her chopsticks. She had lost all appetite for the night. She couldn’t wait until she could go to her room and break down in tears, or set something on fire, or both. But she had a long night ahead of her.

After everyone ate, she made her way through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with everyone she passed. It was exhausting to put on a beaming smile and cheerful attitude to interact with others, but (Y/N) had learned at a very young age that first impressions were everything. If the leaders of other nations liked her, their chances of working together with the Fire Nation to rebuild the world were doubled.

The moon was high by the time the crowd dispersed, leaving only (Y/N), her friends, Zuko, and Mai. Zuko walked up to (Y/N) with Mai in tow. She put on her best smile, but it faltered as she saw their hands intertwined. “I’m going to go to Mai’s house for a little while.”

She nodded, crossing her arms. “Don’t forget you have a reparations meeting in the morning.” Zuko smiled.

“I know, I know.” He said goodbye to his friends and the couple walked out of the palace gates.

(Y/N) turned around to find her friends solemnly staring at her. “I can show you guys to your rooms,” She said softly, before leading them into the palace. Their rooms were on the same hall as hers, and she let them know this and said that if they needed anything, to just knock on her door.

Sokka paused with his hand on the doorknob to his room. His blue eyes met (Y/N’s) and he gave her a small smile. “You did a really great job today, (Y/N).” He hugged her tightly and (Y/N) tried her hardest to suppress the tears that were forming in her eyes.

“Thanks, Sokka,” she said as they parted. Hurriedly, so no one would see her cry, she walked to her room and slammed the door shut behind her. Wringing her hands together, she shook them out and lifted her head up to the ceiling, furiously blinking them so the tears wouldn’t fall out. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry over Zuko anymore and while she felt her resolve slowly breaking, she was trying to let this moment pass.

(Y/N) changed out of her clothes and into a silk pajama set. She brushed out her hair and scrubbed her nails clean to distract herself. She almost felt fine again until she heard a knock on her door.

“Come in,” She called, and Katara walked in quietly. The Water Tribe girl didn’t even have to say anything, but (Y/N) saw the sympathy in her eyes. She turned her head away quickly so Katara wouldn’t see the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks.

“Oh, (Y/N),” Katara sighed, sitting next to her friend. She wrapped her arms around (Y/N) and held her close.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” (Y/N) said, wiping furiously at her eyes. “It’s not like he owes me anything. I should’ve known that just because we were betrothed as kids doesn’t mean anything now.” She sniffled loudly. “I shouldn’t be crying. I should be happy because we’re friends again.”

“Whatever you’re feeling is how you should be feeling,” Katara said. “You’re crying because you’re hurt, (Y/N), and that’s okay. Don’t try to minimize your emotions.”

“I just feel so stupid and ridiculous, Katara. And it makes me mad that I’m crying over him again.”

“(Y/N), you have the biggest heart out of everyone I’ve met. You might make yourself seem rough on the outside, but on the inside you’re just as soft as unfried dough. You care a lot about Zuko, but that doesn’t make you stupid or ridiculous. The fact you held it together for as long as you did just shows how strong you are. And, for the record, we were all surprised when they came out together.”

“Really?” Katara nodded.

“Yeah! Anyone with a brain can see how good you guys are together. If Zuko doesn’t see that, it’s his loss.” (Y/N) smiled softly at her friend. Her words didn’t completely convince her, but they did make her feel a lot better about the situation. She wrapped her arms around Katara’s middle and hugged her.

“Thank you, Katara. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Katara squeezed her tightly.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, either.” They pulled away from the hug, both wearing a smile on their faces. “Want me to stay with you tonight?”

“Yes, please,” (Y/N) sighed. “I’m going to need someone to listen to me analyze every interaction between Zuko and I.” Katara laughed, which in turn made (Y/N) laugh too.

---

(Y/N) woke up late the next morning. The night’s events had completely exhausted her, so she figured she deserved a day to sleep in. She didn’t wake up until the sun was high in the sky, and didn’t leave her room until much later than that. She searched all over the palace for her friends and eventually found them all sitting under the big tree beside the turtle duck pond.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Toph said. The small girl lay in the grass, her eyes closed as she pointed her face toward the sun.

“Really, it’s good afternoon,” Aang grinned. (Y/N) chuckled.

“A long day of planning wiped me out.”

“You did an amazing job, (Y/N),” Zuko said. He was propped up against the big tree. His eyes looked up at her as if he was expecting her to sit beside him, but instead she chose to sit next to Katara and Sokka.

“Everything alright?” Sokka asked. “Your eyes are kind of puffy.” Katara elbowed him in the ribs. “What? What’d I say?”

“I’m just tired, Sokka.” To emphasize this, she let out a yawn.

“I can ask the servants to get you tea,” Zuko said. “Maybe some green tea to help you wake up?”

“That won’t be necessary,” (Y/N) said. Zuko was taken aback at how she refused to look at him when she spoke.

An awkward silence fell over the group, but it was quickly broken by Katara. “I can’t believe you both grew up here. It’s so lavish!”

“Sometimes I forget about it too,” (Y/N) admitted. “Things were a lot different the last time I was here. You won’t believe how many portraits of Ozai we had to take down. The man only got more vain as the years went on.”

The group giggled before diving into a conversation about their upcoming plans for the future of the world. Zuko and (Y/N) planned on removing the Fire Nation colonies from the Earth Kingdom, to keep the nations separate like they were before. It was named the Harmony Restoration Movement and had been something that Zuko and other government officials had the task of coming up with.

Zuko and (Y/N) also had the tough job of handling those in the government who remained loyal to Ozai. Having a government that sided with hate and imperialism would not do well with the plans they had for the future.

Their talks ended as the sun began to set, which signaled the departure of their friends. They all walked together to Appa and said their goodbyes. (Y/N) hugged each of her friends tightly and leapt onto Appa and hugged Momo before they departed. She and Zuko watched sadly as their friends flew away.

“I really like all of them,” Zuko said. “But it’s also nice when it’s just you and me.” (Y/N) gave a grunt in response and walked back into the palace.

“I’ll be taking dinner in my room tonight, please,” She told one of the servants.

---

Few months had passed since Zuko’s coronation and much had changed. The Harmony Restoration Movement was an effort to remove the Fire Nation colonials from the Earth Kingdom that was heavily supported by the Earth King and his men, but not so much from Fire Nation officials. (Y/N) and Zuko had to take their time figuring out which of Zuko’s cabinet members were still loyalists to Ozai’s cause and relieve them of their duties. It resulted in many threats of harmful action, but after surviving war, (Y/N) found that there was little she feared now.

After a particularly long meeting between her and Zuko, (Y/N) walked down the lantern-lit halls of the palace. Ever since he had started dating Mai again, (Y/N) had chosen to distance herself from him. While she was happy that he was happy, she found it far too painful to watch the two be together, and she did not want to intrude on their relationship by any means. So, she decided to take a break from Zuko. Their friendship had suffered because of it, but (Y/N) figured that it was best for right now. She still remained his closest confidant and his trusted advisor. It hurt to be so close to Zuko yet feel so far away, but she was no stranger to pain.

She rounded the corner to the hallway that led to her room and hummed an old Fire Nation lullaby as she approached her door. Entering her room, she readied herself for bed and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the soft, fluffy pillows.

When (Y/N) awoke, it was not to the rising sun shining through her windows, but rather the sound of glass breaking. Confusedly, she blinked the sleep from her eyes and peered around the room. It was hard for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. “Zuko?” She called out.

She leaned over in her bed to light the lantern on the nightstand and immediately felt a strong hand twist itself into her hair. She shouted in pain, contorting herself to kick at whoever was grabbing her. Her feet found purchase on the person’s chest and kicked them back into the wall. (Y/N) freed herself and quickly lit all of the lanterns in her room with firebending.

There, on the other side of her bed, stood a masked assailant wearing all black. In each of their hands was a sharp dagger that glinted in the firelight. (Y/N’s) eyes widened in fear. “Who are you?” She demanded.

“I was sent here to punish you for your crimes against the Fire Nation,” The assassin said. (Y/N) furrowed her brows.

“Crimes? What crimes?” One of the daggers was flung at her head. She had just enough time to dodge it before it sank into the wall beside her. She felt the anger rise in her. “Guards!” She shouted before blasting fireballs at the person. They dodged them with ease, flipping out of the way of her attacks.

The assassin darted to the window to escape, but (Y/N) was just as quick. She ran across the room and launched herself at them, tackling them to the ground. The two rolled around the floor, kicking and punching at each other. (Y/N) hissed as her arm was cut by the sharp dagger. Eventually, the assassin over powered her and sat on top of her. (Y/N) used every bit of strength she had in her to hold onto their arms and prevent the dagger from piercing through her chest. Just as she was about to lose her grip, a blast of fire knocked the assailant off of her.

(Y/N) turned to see Zuko standing in the door. A few seconds later, guards flooded in after him and apprehended the person who had tried to assassinate her. Zuko ran to her side as she stood. “Are you okay?” He asked urgently. She shook her head and removed her hand from the cut on her arm. It bled heavily, droplets of blood dotting the hardwood floors of her bedroom.

Zuko took off his shirt and ripped it down the middle to use as a makeshift bandage. He tied it tightly around her wound and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, I’ll take you the the physician.” He turned to the guards. “Throw them into prison. I don’t want them to ever see the light of day again.”

---

Tag List!

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#atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar #zuko x reader #sokka x reader #aang x reader #katara #toph #sokka #zuko #suki #aang #iroh #azula #momo #appa #the last airbender #writing #fanfiction

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the-voltage-diaries · 4 years

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Το Βόρειο Αστέρι μου - Lucifer x Diavolo

AO3 Link

Το Βόρειο Αστέρι μου: Greek for ‘My Polar Star’

Word Count: 1859

A/N: I don’t know what this is. All I know is that @simpingw0lfi3 refused to do it, so I did. Of course, please don’t expect this to be perfect because... it really isn’t.

Vote of thanks: @akaiiro-yume for checking and correcting all the grammatical fuck ups I did, making sure I didn’t stop writing this halfway and going through any mental breakdown I might have had instead for me. And, of course, @some-ikemen-snob for making sure this SCREAMED Lucifer energy this way and that. only for now, but ily both.

Devildom 14th February, 20XX Saturday, 7:57 PM

Dear Diary,

I suppose I've never written a journal entry such as this in the past, for I haven't found either the desire or the will to task myself with writing my thoughts down in a manner wherein I speak to an inanimate object. That said, I have been told writing is, in a manner of speaking, therapeutic, and I believe I could do with some of that right now. It would be false to assume I don’t still harbour any inhibitions towards using my time in this manner, especially when I'd much rather be by Diavolo’s side. The very same Diavolo who, as a matter of fact, happens to be the subject of this writing session today. Strangely enough, and if I recall correctly, he was also the one who introduced - which is putting it rather mildly - me to the “art” of journal entries. I admit, I haven’t given this activity the kind of gravity which was probably expected out of me, but then again, today is a little different from the rest. I'm not entirely certain as to where to begin, but I do believe I have been told in situations like these, one should do whatever... feels right.

Diavolo is... well, where do I even begin? He is the future of Devildom, as a few might call it - myself included. While he does appear to be quite the cheerful and at times careless lord, it’d be a lie to deny that he is just as wise and compassionate underneath that wave of buoyancy radiating off of him. Honest to a fault, but with his moral compass always pointing towards the best interest of those around him. I’ll admit, sometimes it proves to be rather difficult to believe that he indeed is a demon. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to compare him to the Polaris considering he does quite radiate the charisma from himself, shining admirably amidst a dark sea of onlookers. While in name he rules over all the demons in the land of Devildom, the right set of eyes won’t take too long to deduce the eloquence with which his fingers reach out to the soul of every single resident of the land, holding them together better than gravity ever bound humans to the earth.

Saying that is all there is to him would be a lie whiter than the wet snow, making its way to the tips of my fingers and sliding off gently onto this page. That, of course, doesn’t mean describing how I feel towards him is no herculean task. There are some cases when a language - no matter the plethora of vocabulary it offers - just isn’t sufficient enough, and this certainly is one of those cases. For the time being, let’s just owe my lack of articulacy to the bond of mutual respect and trust Diavolo and I share, built over centuries upon centuries, braving the ravages of time, and even perhaps the less than pleasing antics my brothers tend to pull. But while the impression the ruler of all demons and I tend to emit may seem to be distanced by a careful degree of professionalism, I don’t believe anybody knows that that might not be the case. Even Diavolo himself. Doesn’t come as a surprise, really, for they simply can’t know.

Why do I believe that to not be the case, then? Well, I would wonder why I felt so strongly about it had I not known the reason myself. The very same reason which is now a secret so surreptitious that I can’t help but consider burning this piece of paper once I finish writing to ensure it is never revealed to another set of eyes. Such dastardly is the nature of this emotion, tricking one into its delusive warmth, encompassing them with the belief that nothing truly is impossible, that what they feel might just be true and meaningful enough to be returned by the other they feel for, only to cackle with glee and turn away when the reality doesn’t match the fantasy it was believed to turn out to be. The very same emotion which in layman’s terms is apparently called... love.

I’m not entirely certain I understand the extent of its exquisite existence myself, to be truthful. All I know is no matter how intensely I try to shut the door on its escaping fumes, it turns futile the second I lay my eyes on the man in question. While the rest of the known universe sees an omnipotent leader binding everyone together, making them sing the same tune in harmony, I see what I can only consider an anchor, grounding me, making it so that I can’t ever fall into the abyss of the darkness that breathes inside of me and float away. He is the quintessence of the best of what the world has to offer, with his golden eyes sparkling like stardust, weaving their ever-lasting magic into the hearts of whoever they come across - be it human, or demon, or angel - wrapping them in their never-ending warmth, letting them sink into the depths of benevolence they promise. His hair are the cerise of a raging inferno, sheltering beneath their canopy a quick, sensible, erudite mind. His smile is but a warm culmination of everything optimistic and positive, like a flame inviting moths to it, reaching out to give their innermost yearnings a hand to grab on to and never let go. Simply divine. And this is where the paths diverge, I suppose.

They see a to-be Demon King, I see Diavolo.

But alas, love is a fickle mistress. Getting too lost in the charm of her alluring arms will only result in a doom of them wrapping around your neck, enticing, until you realise their hold is tightening. Not to hold on, but to suffocate. I might have gotten so lost in that fiery gaze that I didn’t notice it start to crawl along my skin, leaving a charred, burnt path in its wake. The very anchor which I believed to be the one to ground me and hold me close etched itself deeper into the oceanic floor of delirium, drowning me. The threads of his stardust wrapped themselves around me and clutched hard enough to strangle. Before I knew it, the symphony of something meaningful became the cacophony of a nightmare.

This red thread strung through itself earlier today the series of events I’d rather forget. I’ve known how I feel towards Diavolo for a while now, and I had been searching for an opportunity to come clean and let him know about it for the last few days. Not to say I hadn’t gotten said opportunities at all, but one could owe it to me being too prideful to admit I was finally opening up to the idea of accepting feelings and... emotions. Around that time was when Solomon let slip a few details about the significance of Valentine’s day in the human world as an annual occurrence to celebrate romantic love, friendship, and admiration, and with enough persistence, Asmodeus managed to convince Diavolo to declare the day as an official holiday. Just a few hours ago I walked along the empty hallways to Diavolo’s office, knowing him, Barbatos and I to be the only ones in the building, still choosing work over any form of inactivity. By then, I had talked myself into finally telling the most powerful of all demons about the feelings I harboured towards him. I am a little embarrassed to admit that I was indeed a tad hopeful, wishing for the feelings to be returned. Once I reached the door to his private office, my hand settled above the smooth hardwood to give it a knock. And that’s when I noticed that the door was already slightly ajar. I heard a voice inside, other than Diavolo’s, and I took the liberty to glance inside, only for my hopes to come crashing down when the realisation struck me: I shouldn’t have done that.

Inside his office, Diavolo sat in his seat with his mouth pressed against another, a hand trailing across the small face with dark green locks framing it with elegance while the other held on to the person’s waist, pulling him closer. My eyes widened when the smaller man of the two let out a muffled whimper, perched on Diavolo’s lap. Barbatos. I felt my heart squeeze out a pained croak at the sight, and even though every single nerve in my body begged me to move away and forget I ever saw anything, my legs didn’t move. They stayed glued to their spot on the floor even as I felt it crumble beneath my feet, just the way my eyes stayed on Diavolo. My lip trembled with a longing I never thought I’d experience when Barbatos intertwined his fingers with Diavolo’s, smiling into the kiss they shared, like the perfect harmony which was always meant to be. It was when Diavolo broke the kiss, eyes meeting the other’s and whispers of love and confessions floating across the room until they settled on my ears, that I finally felt the mask crack. The facade I had worked on for centuries to lay the foundation of crumbled as my fists clenched, letting myself have a moment of weakness when a lone tear of frustration, delay, anger, and self loathing dripped down my cheek. I looked up at the ceiling, a voiceless laugh tumbling across my lips at the cognisance that the Polaris I was reaching out for, shining proud in the middle of a dark, cloudless sky, was beyond my reach, and... never supposed to be mine. How far I could stretch, how willing were my fingers to make one last attempt to touch it’s light and bask in it - all of that didn’t matter anymore.

I exhaled a shaky breath, blinking once as I tucked away whatever it is I was going to tell Diavolo in some corner of my mind, crushing the key with a hard snap of my fingers. My eyes found Barbatos again, glazing over with a heartfelt wish for him to find his happiness, at least. It was with one last aching smile towards Diavolo and a euphoric laugh spilling from Barbatos’ lips that I turned on my heel, shaking my head at the fate I was handed. Needless to say, I hold no malice towards either of them - they’re both precious to me, as much as I dislike admitting it.

I believe I have shared more than what was required, and I shall burn this piece of paper lest anyone finds it. One might call it wishful thinking on my part, but I do pray that watching the last signs of anything I harbour towards the one who wasn’t meant to be mine from the start burn as the embers of the fire consume it whole makes me put a lid on my feelings once and for all, for they were never supposed matter. They weren’t supposed to exist to begin with.

After all, only a prince deserves a fairy-tale with a happy ending, and I am no prince.

Lucifer.

#Obey Me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #diavolo x lucifer #diavolo x barbatos #dialuci #obey me swd #obey me... fic?#letter?#diary?#idk what this is #a measly attempt at angst #obey me angst #dialuci angst #FIRST OM FIC JFC

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adonis-koo · 5 years

Text

sate • jjk

↳ Summary: It was forbidden, your love for him. The glances you’d both steal when no one was looking and the whispered sweet nothings he’d say when you were alone. He would never be yours and his thirst would never be sated until you were his.

↳ Genre: Vampire!AU, Prince!AU, mutual pining, slight angst, smut,

↳ Word Count: 14k

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/Reader, Taehyung/Reader

↳ Tags: Virginal sex, praise kink, slight begging, eating out, fingering, finger fucking, multiple orgasms, biting, blood drinking, forced orgasm, squirting, dirty talk, unprotected sex,

Note: it’s spooky season and this oneshot is a big rabbit hole to halloween!verse so prepare yourselves.

“Don’t look so depressed Y/n- maybe he doesn’t remember?” Those were not the words you wanted to hear. Of course you wanted to imagine that maybe he didn’t remember, maybe this was just a coincidence, it could be a lot of things. And if you really wanted, you were sure you could convince yourself with enough past humiliation and lingering embarrassment that he definitely didn’t remember. If he had, remembered it of course.

The Prince, was a gentleman and had never brought it up, but on the days when your neck was exposed and you’d bend over a little too far to grab something in his presence, you could swear, you could feel his gaze lingering on your chest.

Just the thought had your cheeks flushing red and your body pulsing in both shame and arousal. You had grown up in the castle, having been there since the royal guard stumbled upon you in the remnants of a crashed carriage, left out in the cold night of October, abandoned by your parents, you never knew a life outside of these stone, gothic walls.

You always saw the Prince and he would ever so often see you, but nothing more than a passing glance between maids while passing you down the hallway, or perhaps when you stood off to the side when the king was holding court. He had seen you, but he never truly saw you

Not until four months ago when the head of royal staff gave you consent to use one of the guest rooms to bathe in, your room at the time had been occupied by a wounded vampire in needed of both healing and rest leaving you without a place to wash.

It had been a pure mistake, you didn’t realize the guest who had been departing that day had previously left her necklace inside the room- and of course being the gentleman he was the Prince had went to receive it for her. What he instead found was you, having just got out of the bath and barely covering your naked, exposed body in time. Your hair had been pushed back and your neck fully of display.

You had never seen his eyes turn such a bright red in your whole life, his fangs had been protruding and you were surprised he had such self restraint to keep himself from just lunging at you and taking you on the ground, it had been late that evening before most feeding times for vampires, leaving them hungry and ready for their meal.

Instead he had shut the door before apologizing, though it came out more like a hungry, lust filled growl. You had been mortified and that day had played in your head on repeat ever since.

Ever since then his gaze had begun to find yours more days then less, and if you weren’t so pragmatic, you would’ve assumed he had even been searching for you throughout the crowd of maids that filled the halls. There had been a shift in the air ever since for you, and now being his personal maid? It was a true hell.

He’d never bring up that incident but today- he had referenced to it. Or at least you assumed, he did when you whirled away from him with bright pink cheeks and watching that fowl predatory smirk burn into his lips only but for a brief second.

He was going to be the death of you! You often stayed by his side most days down, fetching anything he could possibly need or want and when you weren’t doing that you were usually running errands for him or cleaning up both his office for official business or his room. His bedroom.

Being a human, in a kingdom of vampires was a very strange feeling, it wasn’t necessarily rare for there to be humans technically they weren’t needed, born vampires could still used turned vampires to feed on, humans were still welcomed nonetheless.

But to understand that difference was seldom something you could comprehend. A bedroom, for instance, was a general, practical use for a human, it’s where you slept every night, where you’d go if you were sick or tired. None of which was useful for a Vampire.

Vampires, rarely had use for a personal room, the only exception was that it was their private space, somewhere they could relax in the brief long life they lived. It was for humans too of course, but you understood it was vastly different, Vampires didn’t take luxury of sleeping most nights given it wasn’t needed and there was always work to be done.

You still didn’t understand why vampires were so picky on who entered their space, but their bedroom was almost completely off limits to anyone as it was a sacred space for themselves alone. Asides from their mate whom they usually shared it with and the exception of one maid to clean it.

The main reason they had a bedroom, was because that’s where they fed. Just the idea had you flush in the cheeks, feeding was rarely just them biting a neck and going on their way. Or so you had heard from donors. Most vampires, usually mixed their sexual appetite with their hunger when they fed, apparently the adrenaline made it that much better from the human- or again, so you had heard.

Adjusting the blood red choker you wore you fidgeted before sighing, “Yeri, vampires have better cognitive memory than humans can even comprehend. I’m positive he remembers.” Your mind had far drifted from the topic at hand though. Your choker wasn’t for fashion sake, all of the human royal staff were gifted with one due to its charm and sigal placed on it.

Should a vampire ever try to bite you their teeth would practically shatter before puncturing your skin and if they dared try to take it off, the sigal would cause their skin to burn. It didn’t have to be worn, but for those humans who didn’t want to risk assault usually wore it, yourself included.

Lots of humans usually volunteered through the donor practice making sure vampires were well fed, the royals kept among themselves though. Your Prince, having his own personal pick of several human ladies in waiting as even for feeding it was important it would remain in his circle of wealth.

You had heard the pleasure from it was like none other from plenty of people who had become a donor, but you yourself had always been too nervous to enroll in a donor practice, you hadn’t even slept in the same bed as a man before.

You had spent your whole life working to become apart of the Sisterhood who worked under the moon goddess and protected most of the forest. Or so you had seen and aspired to be like, you would first have to work as a nun though and thus taking an oath of celibacy. It wouldn’t be until the upcoming spring though, leaving you with less then a year at the palace.

Glancing down into the large goblet you watched the red wine mix with the blood that had been stored in the kitchen, a vampire delicacy, Yeri frowned before she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, her face pale and lifeless but it shone like the moonlight sparkling against the sea, her eyes almost hypnotically dark enough to get lost in, “I’m sure he meant no harm by his comment, go on you shouldn’t keep his Highness waiting.”

You nodded, offering a weak smile before shuffling out of the kitchen and back into the large hallway, guards filtering past you on rotation and a few ladies of the court giggling in the corners of the room, you, much like most maids were simply in the background of a beautiful portrait that was the livelihood of the castle.

You had quickly journeyed up the many sets of stairs, your legs weak and pulsing in a dull ache for protest to stop as you finished your last set of stairs into the hallway that you had become painfully familiar with.

Pausing in front of the large solid door you gave a gentle knock, you had always knocked, always frightened despite his insistence that in fear you would walk in without announcement and he’d be in the middle of feeding, even if it was unlikely.

Vampire’s always fed after dark or before they took luxury in sleeping and everyone knew that, had you walked down the halls in the dead of night you could hear the soft moans that filtered through the hallway.

“Come in.” His voice was soft and deep, dulcet and yet strong at the same time, Jungkook had already sensed your presence, the beat of your heart pulsing in the rhythm of the only human within the next four floors. Opening the door gently his back was turned to you, books scattered around his desk, some from personal entertainment while others had been from his studies.

Even long past his days as a physical child most still looked at him as nothing more than a youngling, and you supposed for most vampires he was, staggering at the young age of 225, it was still hard to imagine he was really that old.

He didn’t look a day older than twenty two at least, his long locks of black hair silky to the touch and his pale face sculpted with fullness and life making his supernatural beauty all the more striking.

Closing the door gently behind you before approaching him as you softly called, “Here, something to help the thirst.” His eyes flickered up from his book as you set down the goblet near him on the desk, his lips quirking upwards slightly and his deep red eyes- ones only the royals held seemed to brighten a little as he nodded his head in gratitude.

Not a word was spoken after that as you changed out his old sheets, he was fairly clean when he fed but you could tell he must’ve been hungrier than normal last night, the blood smearing against sheets in several splatters as you pulled them off, it was rare for the sheets to appear so...sloppy.

You didn’t know what it was like to have a lust for blood though and therefore never felt comfortable judging a vampire on how they fed, you couldn’t imagine what kind of self restraint it took to feed slowly and never make a mess. Pulling the sheets neatly over the corners of his bed before resetting each layer of blanket.

You couldn’t resist letting your hand run over the red velvet throw blank that went on the edge of the bed, it was so soft and brought a sense of comfort against your fingertips, “You’re always so fond of that blanket,”

You jolted, heart rate jumping as you clutched your chest at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, his eyes still focused on his book before letting them flutter to meet your figure, “Why not just take it? I can have another replaced.” He had noticed that? You supposed it had become a habit for you to run your fingers along the fuzzy, soft material each day you made his bed.

Glancing away from him you finished smoothing out the fabric before humming, you felt a weary smile pull across your lips as you murmured, “Red’s never been my color.”

You could feel his eyes drop to your neck, the dark red choker that clung to your skin shielding him from the temptation to have just a taste, his appetite never sated at night knowing you were in your own bed alone, those pretty locks of hair out of the loose style you always wore up and maybe, if he were lucky you’d have took your choker off.

He could feel the sting in his abdominal as his feeding hour ticked closer and his fangs threatening to lengthen, “I’d disagree,” He hummed, forcing his eyes back down to the book as you paused, taking your own turn to watch the strands of black hair grazed over his eyes, “You make red look divine.” you could practically see the flash in his eyes as they hungrily met yours with a murmur of his own.

Your cheeks flushed the same color as the blanket you had finished smoothing out as you now refused to look at him. It would be hard to deny the attraction you felt between you both, but it was also silently agreed to never go farther than a mere few whispered words saying otherwise.

“I’m sure red looks good on anyone too you.” You muttered before going to the head of the bed, fixing the pillows properly as you refused to meet his gaze that blatantly kept on your figure, his attention now more fixed on you then his studies.

Red, was often not worn by vampires- as it was a color that humans were supposed to wear by law when they went out. Red just like the blood that flowed through your veins.

“Come here.” His voice was soft, but the demand was prominent in his voice making you freeze before swallowed, your grip on the round cushion tightening before you forced your knuckles to curl from it’s material while setting it down. Obediently you walked up to his seated position, eyes on the patterned dark rug as you felt your anxiousness creep up on you and the heartbeat you knew he could hear spike.

Jungkook stood up before grabbing the goblet you had so kindly thought of getting him as he glanced down at the deep maroon taking a sip of it himself as the sweet liquid slid down his throat, licking his lips before his gaze set on your figure who refused to look at him.

Cupping your chin gently he lifted to make you gaze at his tall dark figure, the long dark raven hair slanting the view of his eyes as he thumbed your chin before sliding his thumb across your bottom lip, so soft.

He could only vividly imagine what it would be like to kiss them, pressing the goblet to your lips he finally let out a soft purr, “Drink.” You let your eyes flutter shut as he lifted the glass, letting the dark liquid slip between your lips.

The wines sweet taste was overpowered by the bitter twinge of metallicness causing it’s texture to become thicker than normal but you obediently swallowed the small sip before he pulled the goblet from your lips, letting his thumb swipe at the leftover stain it left on your lip.

He finally let go of you before letting his tongue drag over the pad of his thumb, his lidded eyes never leaving yours, “Nothing compares to even just a taste.” He leaned in as he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Glancing up at his towering figure your mouth quirked into a frown he never enjoyed seeing on such pretty lips, he and you both knew there was no point in whispered sweet nothings, or even flirting with the idea. If he ever drank from you, you’d be exiled no doubt and you had no family or home to go to if that were too happen.

And yet you still found yourself drawing closer to him, you couldn’t use his seductive charm as an excuse as your choker warded it off, it was his own energy that drew you in. Just before your lips could meet fate had knocked on the door causing you to jump back as he sighed.

Eye’s still shut briefly as if already knowing someone had been on their way up. You seemed dazed for a second, your cheeks red and ears burning before rubbing your head and quickly making way for the door.

Opening the door you anticipated one of the servants to be requesting you for something, your lips already parted ready to speak before they your brows shot up at the sight before you, “Lady Kang,”

You instantly dropped to a small curtsy, this must’ve been the lady in waiting he had chosen for feeding, wasn’t it a little early though? “My apologies, I would’ve left sooner had I known you would be arriving early for the night.”

Kang Minsoo only spared you one guarded glance, her face curled in slight disgust as to why a lowly maid such as yourself was in the bedroom of the crown Prince, “Apology accepted, be sure to leave early tomorrow though, I will be arriving at the same time. You may see yourself out.”

Her words were formal and sharp as she sized you up, you supposed she had every right, she was after all possibly the most likely candidate chosen to carry the next heir of the kingdom.

You instantly curtsied once more as you answered, “Yes m'lady,” You quickly skirted past her out the door before silently sighing turning around briefly to find Jungkook peering at you from the other side of the door, Minsoo in front of him and yet his eyes hungry stared at you, “Have a nice night.”

You closed the doors, cutting off your view of the Prince before sighing, pressing your head against the hardwood briefly, your fingertips brushing over your lips where Jungkook had previously placed his own.

You could already hear a loud moan from the otherside of the door as you clenched your fist in anger. How dare he make you feel so exposed, so open only to knowingly be interrupted. Did he just enjoy taunting you? Knowing you could desire him all you wanted but fully knowing you’d never have him.

At the sound of another moan, you forced your breath to calm as you straightened your back. If anyone where to pass by you’d surely look indecent listening in on the intimacy of Jungkook’s feeding.

Swallowing you turned your back, forcing the emotions back down your throat before making your way back down the stairs, candles lining against it casting a darker tone over them.

Feeding would begin soon for the rest of the vampires and it would be best if you headed for bed. No longer required by the Prince for the rest of the night, though secretly you wished he would.

Opening the door to your room you sighed, gently shutting the door before shedding your clothes for your nightgown, your hand briefly running over your neck while the vivid memory of Jungkook staring at the skin burned in your mind, your body was burning in such intense desire it felt difficult to stand.

You forced yourself to lay down, refusing to let your hands get the better of you as your imagination ran wild. You doubt you’d get any sleep that night.

You could feel the stares on your figure from most of the knights in the room. The Prince had asked you to accompany him on this meeting and more days then less, it was never needed and you often just busied yourself when he attended them. Today had been different though and you couldn’t place why. You’d never deny him though and therefore stood a little ways behind him, hands clasped behind your back as you observed their discussion.

“Your Highness, Incúrsio has requested for aid, their sacrifice to the dark lord will be upon them soon and their hysteria is heightening with each day. They fear they’ll be raided by the near pack Blood Moon despite our treaty with them…” The head knight, Marcello had reported, his eyes had only met yours briefly when you had entered into the room behind Jungkook.

Despite your presence in the room being unnecessary, no knight had the courage to speak up on it though, was it from fear, or from loyalty? You weren’t sure but stayed quiet throughout the meeting nonetheless, assuming they wouldn’t want the opinion of a maid regardless.

The village on topic: Incúrsio had apparently been under plague of a demon’s curse where the village would sacrifice a young virgin girl every year to keep from the demon destroying it’s village- though you had heard different tales saying it would swallow the world whole. You had always been a little more pragmatic though. And like most knights in the room- though they hadn’t said it, you could tell they didn’t believe the myth, and neither did you.

Jungkook remained quiet until then, sitting leaned back in his chair and his hands had intertwined while his chin rested on them looking in deep thought before speaking up, “I’m aware Incúrsio is used heavily for our most used trading route. It would make sense to repay them for their agreement to let us pass through, would it not?”

Everyone was quiet for a moment, as if not sure what he was getting at. But you had to resist the urge to smile, his logic couldn’t be faulted, it was not only a good reason but a kind one as well to send guards as thanks for tribute to the successful trading route that had been established through passage of Incúrsio, but more importantly it kept the wolf pack Red Moon at bay from suspicion of a possible attack on their kin and the villagers of Incúrsio more secure of their safety while all parties remained neutral with each other.

Your Prince was always a smart one, you’d give him that. You felt an odd sort of pride swell in your chest as you glanced at the back of his chair. He had always been so kind to everyone and never dismissed a persons concerned, no matter how silly and Incúrsio was a perfect example of his truly gentle nature.

All of the knights began to slowly agree as if finally coming to the conclusion and the meeting had since been dismissed. All of the knights leaving outside of one. Your childhood friend Taehyung’s eyes lingering on yours for a brief moment as you passed him a small smile, walking over letting him speak before you as he always did, “I didn’t expect to see you here Y/n.”

He had already grabbed your hand, an awful habit of his since he was a child but you couldn’t reprimand him when he had such a soft boxy smile adorning his features.

You had parted your lips to speak only for the voice behind you to speak louder, “Unless you have council with me Kim you may go.” Jungkook’s voice was deeper than usual and held an almost icy tone making Taehyung quickly straighten up, his hand letting go of yours as he bowed. Sending you one last look before departing from the room.

Frowning you watched him shut the door before turning to face the Prince, his hair had been covering his eyes making him look more broody and his glare rested on the door that previously shut before he allowed his shoulders to relax and his expression soften as he let his gaze cast over you, “What do you think Y/n?”

You tilted your head curiously as he swept his hair from his eyes to get a better look at you, “Pardon?” You asked unsure of what he had meant as you were still focusing on what had just happened. You couldn’t even say a word to Taehyung before he had been abruptly dismissed by your master.

Jungkook allowed a small smile to pull on his lips, finding your puppy like confusion sweet as he replied endearingly, “Incúrsio, what do you think? About the demon’s curses.” You curved a brow before giving a small shrug. You never thought incredibly hard on it, and it was mainly an old folktale told by the maids during work to make conversation.

“Well,” You paused, licking your lips as your eyes squinted on the table in thought, “I’m not sure your Highness, I’ve never traveled outside the city before so I’ve never been to Incúrsio. But if something as powerful as a demon would plague it’s village, I think the better question to ask is why. Do you think a demon plagues their village?”

Surely a demon wouldn’t have need for a virgin girl let alone barbarically feast on her. You lived and shared the world with Vampires, Werewolves and Ghouls alike, if a demon were to exist- and you were sure they did, you wanted to imagine they weren’t as monstrous as humans like to make them out to be.

Jungkook let a smile quirk on his lips at your question as he hummed, “Perhaps, I’m a believer in oddities. I wouldn’t be surprised if a demon did plague them. We’ll have to visit for ourselves one day I suppose.” You glanced away from him at his words, visit? Together? You knew it was meant as himself and you travel to accompany him. But you couldn’t help but wonder if it’s overtones had meant to sound like traveling together, as a couple.

“I’d rather not,” You settled for answering truthfully before humming, letting your fingertips tracing against the beautiful dark oak table, “...That’s where I was close to found…” You murmured more to yourself then him, after a second you finally registered the silence before looking up to see Jungkook staring at you intently, his full attention on you keenly as if taking in your every word.

Flustered you cleared your throat with a sheepish smile, “I...I’m sorry- It’s just...I never knew my parents, the guards on rotation from Incúrsio found me not too far off it’s road, they said it looked like a bandit raid from a carriage but there wasn’t any death followed. Just abandoned and broken and me left there…”

You felt your cheeks burn as your stare on the table hardened and you tried your best to smile but it felt more like a grimace. Defeatedly you let your lips drop before swallowing down your old emotions. You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened, did your family leave you behind? Or had they been taken? Were they still out there, looking for you?

You jumped at the feeling of two large hands cupping your face, having not realized Jungkook had stood up from his seat, now standing in front of you as he gently lifted your gaze to meet his, “Never apologize for what you cannot change.” His words were sweet and gentle as he whispered them, the cold nip of his hands sending a pleasant shiver down your spine and goosebumps along your skin as you could help but let your eyes fall shut.

Unconsciously leaning into his touch as he soothingly stroked along the warm skin of your face, thumbs padding along your cheekbones as he calmed your nerves, “Don’t you wish for closure? You might find it there if you went.” He murmured delicately, his grasp on your face never leaving as he continued to let one hand stroke down to your jaw, making you preen closer for his affection, not aware of the gentle smile pulling on his lips at the sight.

At his words you eventually sighed, letting your eyes open again making a frown pull on his lips mirroring your own at the dejected, formal tone taking over your expression once more, “I was found on the road to Incúrsio, not at the actual village,” You pulled away from his grip as you wrapped your arms around yourself, looking at him a little more guarded than before as his expression crumbled slightly at your defensive stance, “Going there would be nothing but a bitter reminder of that. If you don’t have any other need for me I’ll see myself to help in the dining room.”

Jungkook turned around to hide the hurt in his eyes and the ache in his heart as he walked to the large window overlooking the courtyard, “Yes that’s all I needed Y/n, you may go.” You lingered for a second, glancing at his regal figure that peered out into the evening sky before turning around.

Your heart begging you to stay, but your head forced you out the door. It would never work out anyways. There was no need to stay behind and entertain the idea...though you’d admit, it was getting more difficult with each day.

It was like it was any other morning, you were tired and you were sure it was cast over your features after yet another long and painful night, thoughts surrounding the Prince in less than decent ways as you struggled to not submit to the crave of your body he had power over even when he wasn’t present.

You had been pledged to the Sisterhoods monastery like most of the human maid’s since you were a child, one of the vows you’d be taking was to submit from all physical desire, you wouldn’t take that vow until spring but you had been taught from a young age by the nun’s that it was a lifelong practice for a fellow sister.

You wanted to try your best to maintain purity and to abstain from any sort of physical pleasure but the Prince was making it more and more difficult by the day. It was so cruel, he could have any woman he wanted, even if he didn’t have a choice, he could easily take whoever he pleased. All you had was this one option, you couldn’t ruin it for yourself.

Your feet were beginning to ache and they took you out of your thoughts as you finished dusting around the office. Jungkook had just finishing signing off a seal of approval to one of the outer villages, guaranteeing they’d have shelter from the harsh weather to come when he spoke, “Y/n.”

You paused, glancing around as you rose your brows in acknowledgement, “When do you pledge?” You had expected him to request for you to bring him something.

Having him ask not only a question but a personal one made your lips parted, “Less than a year,” You murmured, turning your focus back on the bookshelf as you wiped it down once more to try and make yourself look busy, “I’ll take my oath come spring.”

“And will you live in the monastery?” Jungkook’s voice was level and you couldn’t read his tone nor figure out why he had suddenly decided to ask. Pausing once more you debated your options. Was there a particular reason he asked? Or was it to just make small talk? He often did so with you on quiet days such as these when he spent them mainly in his office.

“Yes, sisters are expected to live there.” You answered, your back still turned from him. Perhaps for the best, he was already aware of your pledge and yet that never stopped either of you most days in getting caught up with one another, even if it was less than a glance. You didn’t necessarily want to move away from the castle, but this was for the best now.

Your feelings for Jungkook would only blossom with time and you knew they would become nothing but wilted and crumbled when he married and raised his own family. You weren’t sure you could be here to witness that, let alone be by his side as his personal maid in the process.

“I see…” He replied, his voice still unreadable, you were never disciplined enough to stay away from his gaze for so long, forcing you to turn around as you glanced at his seated figure across the room, it was silent for another steady breath, those dark maroon eyes burning into yours were worth more than a thousand words, “A pity,” He finally resigned, forcing his gaze to drop to the letter in front of him, “You’d make such a lovely wife for a man lucky enough.”

Your grip on your rag tightened at his words and you struggled to keep your face neutral as the scowl threatened to twist onto your lips. Why did he always say such things? It was already hard enough having to rein in your desires.

Having him force more ideas into your head, one where you were his wife, it was beginning to become more painful with each day, “All pretty things wilt in time, I’m not any different. I doubt I’d find a single human male in a kingdom of vampires.”

Your future really was bleak when you lived with almost near immortal beings, you turned back to the bookshelf feeling his gaze burn dark on you, and you could almost see his lips part in defense before snapping shut, as if knowing he had no say regardless, “Don’t say that.”

“What?” You looked over your shoulder back at him only to find him standing up from his seat making you sheepishly look ahead once more. You could hear the soft padding of his feet as they traveled across the room and your heart rate had spiked once more as he answered, “That you’ll die.”

You could feel the sudden tension in the room spike as silence filled the room, your movements paused but you didn’t dare turn around to face him, the sudden need to relieve the stiffness in the air as you spoke, “It’s true your Highness,” You meekly turned to face him before offering a small smile, “I’ll be rolling in my grave before your 500th birthday.”

That was apparently a big turning point in every Vampire’s life, for what? You weren’t sure, they were always so keen to keep their secrets among themselves, “All humans share the same fate in the end, that’s just life.”

Jungkook stood in front of you now, forcing you to crane your head to look at him, his eyes were hooded and dark, your joke not being taken as such forcing his maroon eyes to dim further as the frown forced its way onto his lips, “Not if you were turned,” His voice low and a slight husk making your thighs squeeze together involuntarily.

His words made a small breath escape your lips before you scolded, unable to hide your expression anymore from him as you glared towards the ground, “Don’t say something so ridiculous.”

Humans who were turned into a vampire were often bound to their creator for life and furthermore turned were never truly needed outside of procreation purposes. Born female vampires were not fertile leaving the males to mate with turned or humans alike. It was why Jungkook would not only have a wife, a full blooded royal vampire, but also a lady in waiting turned to have his children, which you would be neither, “I doubt anyone would be willing to sponsor me turning.”

Your blood practically boiled at his words as you whirled around, unable to even look at him anymore. You had accepted your life long ago, being human. There was nothing you could do about it. And you’d be open to talking about all sorts of possibilities if it were anyone but Jungkook opening the discussion.

“I would.” You almost jumped out of your skin at the arms that suddenly coiled around you, your back pressing firmly into his chest and you could vividly watch the walls you had built so high, so desperately to keep him away just crumble at being in his cold grip, those soft ice cold lips brushing against your ear with a murmur, the beat of his own heart- off rhythm from that of a human.

Your body was stiff at first but it was difficult to not relax in his grip, he felt so safe, it felt like this was meant to be. As if his arms were always meant to be wrapped around you.

“But you can’t.” Three words, it was all you spoke; for the first time in four months. You supposed it was time for this conversation with him, the one you thought for sure you both silently knew should never take place. And yet here you were, uttering them anyways. You always understood them, but they felt bitter on your lips and the pain flushed in your chest at having to admit to it.

His arms wrapped tighter around you as if speaking silent defiance, his hair tickling your shoulder and his nose dragging against your neck as if to replace his teeth, “Take off your choker.” Your body shuddered at his words, his hands pulling to the sides of your waist as he began to pet down the sides of your body making you instantly shift closer your head leaning back against him.

Your hands were shaky but they obediently went to your neck, fumbling as you went to take off your choker. Timely interruptions were always made though as a knock sounded on the door making you almost jump out of his grip. Jungkook inhaled sharply, annoyance flooding through his body as the voice called through the door, “Your Highness the court seeks audience with the king, it was requested that you be present.”

“I will be out in a moment.” Jungkook answered, his forehead pressed against your neck before letting his lips chastely kiss against it’s skin before murmuring, “I expect you in my room tonight, I will see you then, my love.” Your heart rate was near airborne as your breath hitched, his love? You were his love? It should’ve made you happy, but all you felt was miserable, a situation like this was always bound to end in either death or heartbreak.

Jungkook let go of you before exiting the room and nothing but the memory of him remained with you, openly you sighed whilst running a hand through your hair feeling lost and unsure of what to do or how to feel anymore.

You had just finished helping in the kitchen, most of your day had been spent there as Jungkook hadn’t required your assistance the rest of the day, well it more had to do with him spending most of his day in court listening to whatever was being discussed. This often happened whether it was plans of invading lands, help for the people, anything could be going on in that room. You were rarely needed there and therefore made yourself busy meanwhile.

It was quiet and the kitchen servants had just left to tend to the court ladies afternoon tea leaving you to watch over the simmering soup that had been prepared for the human side of the court.

The room was quiet and you had been left alone with your thoughts, Jungkook’s words still ghosting against your ear. Would you go to visit him tonight? Surely he wasn’t serious, you felt a twinge of worry gnaw inside you, he’d need to feed tonight and you could only hope he wouldn’t be waiting for you to sate his hunger.

“Gotcha!” You nearly screamed at the harsh squeeze on your waist and shouted words, not expecting anyone else in the kitchen before you heard the deep laugh fill the room as the grip on your waist was released, “The look on your face was priceless!”

You whipped around with a glaring scowl as you threatening pointed your spatula at the cheeky Vampire knight, “Taehyung you near scared me into my grave!” he was going to give you a heart attack one of these days, Taehyung not only had been your childhood friend, but a servant at the castle for as long as you as well, you had grown up together side by side.

The only difference was that he had recently become turned at request to become apart of the knights. It was a huge honor for a human and he had been hesitant at first but you had supported the idea one hundred percent and therefore lead him to his undead life.

Undead wasn’t necessarily the right word for it, humans often made up silly folklore for vampires, in which none of half were true. Vampires weren’t necessarily dead- though some could be, most were an entity all on their own with their own heartbeat and almost tar like blood, they were in a sense like werewolves except they were cold blooded in nature making them icy and cold to the touch.

“Like you’d ever sit in your grave for too long,” Taehyung replied as he snatched the spatula away from you, scooping up it’s contents before popping his finger in his mouth. Puckering his lips he hummed, “It’s a little salty.” He gave a boxy smile as you rolled your eyes, “Wish I could enjoy it the way I used too.” His nose wrinkled a little. You couldn’t say you were surprised.

While turned vampires could still eat human food but they could no longer sustain on it the way they used too. The need to feed for blood was now in Taehyung’s transformed genetic makeup now, it didn’t matter how much human food he ate. He would never be satisfied until he fed.

Sighing you grabbed the spatula from him before setting it down on the countertop, “What are you doing here?” You always enjoyed his company, especially now that he was always busy with the knights but he would always spare you every free second he got and given the interruption you had gotten from Jungkook last time you spoke, you’d be more than happy to talk with him now.

Every since he had become turned though, you’d only ever admit to yourself that things weren’t quite the same anymore, that was okay though. You were okay with it, in fact, you were happy for him, to see he had found his own place in the court. He served well as a knight.

“Am I not allowed to visit my favorite girl?” Taehyung questioned though he was well aware of his words as he curved a thick brow with a smile, your cheeks burned as you huffed, looking away from him. You had been well aware of his interest in you for some time now, but with the way things had been going with Jungkook you never had the heart to flirt with him.

Rightfully, you should’ve turned both your interest and affection towards Taehyung, he was far better suited for you and you knew he’d never let you down, not intentionally. His beautiful unnaturally blue eyes staying on your figure and you had his every ounce of attention, if you knew what was good for you, you’d let him have your undivided attention as well.

But Jungkook’s ghosted words whispered in your ear once more, ‘My love’ just the memory had chills running down your spine before you cleared your throat with a cough, feeling your cheeks flush except this time not because of the vampire who stood in front of you, “I’m being serious…” You peered down into the boiling pot with a murmur.

“So am I,” Taehyung replied, his voice softening, forcing you to turn around to face him with a quizzical look, you couldn’t help but feel cautious as he stepped closer to you, taking your hands into his larger ones filled with callouses from his sword training, “I know you aren’t interested in me, but at least let me try to court you. Who knows,” He gave you a boxy grin and a wink, “Maybe I can win your heart.”

Your heart, already belonged to Jungkook. You pushed the thousands of thoughts swarming your mind to the back as you frowned, you could easily say no and you knew he’d respect your wish. But...maybe you should give it a try? Things would never work out with the Prince anyways, and maybe Taehyung was right, maybe he could win your heart, “You really think you can?” You finally murmured softly, glancing up at him as his smile widened, his hands squeezing yours gently as he nodded.

“If you give me the chance,” He leaned his forehead against yours, his skin cold just as any vampire but it still didn’t feel natural to you, not when you had known Taehyung your whole life with deep warm skin now pale as the moon and his once warm brown eyes as blue and lit up as the night sky, “Let me take you out tonight, there’s something I’d love to show you.”

You parted your lips to say yes only to pause. Tonight? You swallowed your words at the memory of Jungkook, he said he was expecting you in his room...Tonight. But...he couldn’t of been serious. Whatever it was he was planning, it was a bad idea regardless. Surely he knew that.

No matter how much he liked you- or you liked him, things would never work. It was time you accept that and at least moved onto someone who you could learn to love. Taehyung had always been handsome as a human, his features had only become more sharp and regal at his turn, you’d be a fool to pass up a chance of life with him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to pledge after all.

“Alright,” You sighed closing your eyes, “What time shall we go?” You could practically feel his smile beaming down at you, his hands excitedly squeezing yours at the chance to prove himself as he hastily kissed your forehead, “9 o’clock in the courtyard, I’ll see you there Y/n.” You could hear another knight teasing him from the hallway as they called his name. With one last smile he exited the room with a spring in his step.

Sighing you felt a drop in your stomach, you could only hope Jungkook had changed his mind at such a silly notion and would go about his regular feeding. Rubbing the spot where Taehyung kissed your forehead you finally allowed a small smile to pull on your lips. Maybe life shared with him wouldn’t be a totally bad idea.

It was nearing time to go and you could feel the anxiousness build in you as you laced your bodice, would Jungkook be okay? Would he be able to feed throughout the night as he normally did. Hungry Vampire’s never bode over well and for him to be a royal. You sighed, forcing your thoughts and concerns for him to the back of your mind as you pulled the thick red cloak over your shoulders and pulling up the hood.

Stepping out of your room you made your way down the hall, stopping briefly at the thought. Surely it wasn’t too late, he’d most likely be on his bed, sitting patiently for your arrival as you had cleaned his room early that day.

His eyes would be near blood red by now, and his hunger beginning to set in...you felt your knees beginning to weaken at the idea before you shook your head. No, he’d already be on top on Minsoo by now, drinking from her and sating all of his needs. He didn’t need you.

The guard nodded to you while opening the large door of the caste, allowing you to slip out before seeing the familiar dark head of hair peering out at the moonlight, Taehyung looked so serene since his turn, he had naturally become more nocturnal by nature and the moon suited his pale skin almost making him glow. He looked ethereal.

Already sensing your presence Taehyung turned around, his own black hood cloak covering his figure and color clashing against yours, smiling he took your hands into his before pressing a quick kiss against your knuckles, “Are you ready?”

“Of course.” You offered a tiny smile as he began to lead you outside the large gates of the castle and down the large brick walkway, everything was so polished and beautiful in the vampire kingdom, they were far more refined than humans could ever be. Or so you had been told most of your life.

You had never been to one of the human lands before and briefly, you couldn’t help but wonder what the difference would be between them. Taehyung had lead you through most of the city that was now vacant most vampires feeding and briefly you glanced towards Taehyung, had he fed early just so he could take you out? You smiled gently at the thought, he truly was too kind for his own good.

“Alright, we're almost there, just close your eyes.” Taehyung looked like he did when he was little, his eyes brimming with excitement and his boxy grin looking almost childlike and all the more enduring as you rolled your eyes with a smile, putting your hands over your eyes as he lead you by the waist down the worn and weaved path of the woods.

You stumbled slightly causing his grip on your waist to tighten a little making your face flush and your heartbeat quicken in your chest. He paused making you stop for a moment before he spoke, “Alright! You can open them now.”

Pulling your hands from your face you parted your lips only for no words to be spoken. Your mouth became agape at the sight of the gorgeous lake, the willow tree’s blowing by the chilled breeze of air and the full moon had lit up the whole lake leaving it sparkling and transforming the moss that clung to its sides like seafoam.

It was beautiful, you had found yourself speaking those words to Taehyung who grinned like a child at your reaction, “I found it during one of my rotations along the south side of the kingdom, I always love to come here to relax after a busy day.” He lead you to a spot before you both sat down in front of the lake, the fireflies dancing just above the water and if you didn’t know any better you’d this was a home to pixies.

“Thank you for giving me a chance Y/n,” Taehyung breathed out gently, leaning into your side as his eyes washed over the scenery, his shoulders relaxed and at peace, “I know you pledge in spring but...I don’t know if I could live with myself if I didn’t at least try to change your mind.”

You fiddled with the hem of your dress, unable to meet his gaze as guilt gnawed in you before sighing, “There isn’t much life for me outside of the sisterhood Taehyung, I don’t want to leave the castle but...what choice do I have? Besides the sisterhood aren’t just nuns, they’re warriors, protectors of the woods. It’s an honor to have them take me in.”

You were true in your words. You had looked up to the sisterhood your whole life, while you’d start as a nun at the monastery for the moon goddess it was so much more than that. They were trained like warriors and fought not only with fury but also grace, you had been training your whole life with them for this pledge.

“Don’t say that, it’s not your only choice…” Taehyung murmured, his eyes becoming more timid as he glanced towards the lake, appearing a little shy which made you perk in slight curiosity, where was he going with this…? “Y/n…” He shifted in his seat before he let his own eyes meet yours, “I brought you here to ask you something, and I don’t expect an answer right away but…” He glanced down at his lap before bringing both of your own hands into his, “If you were given the chance to be turned...would you take it?” He asked meekly.

Your brows shot up immediately at his question before you shifted away from him warily, what was that supposed to mean? Turned vampires themselves couldn’t actually turn humans, only a born vampire was able too, “I…” You faltered in your sentence as your gaze cast down, “I don’t know…”

You were torn between an answer, because you still enjoyed life as a human, even if vampires looked down upon you as a lesser being. Most would say yes at the idea of eternal youth and life on earth for millennia, but you couldn’t help but frown at the idea, didn’t it ever get lonely?

Watching the world around you wither away as you stayed young, whatever human you befriended becoming old and frail in age before eventually going beyond the veil, “Why do you ask?” You finally plucked the courage to glance up at him again a little more weary.

Taehyung shifted once more, his gaze still timid before his eyes fall to your hands that were intertwined, “Ever since I turned I can’t stop thinking about you Y/n,” He confessed with a whisper, “About your morality, your time is so short on this earth it scares me. My master….he...he’d be willing to sponsor your turn- should you ever decide this is the life you’d like to live. I know it isn’t fair of me to spring this on you. And you want to join the sisterhood but, please consider it. For me.”

Your lips parted several times but no words came out. His master would sponsor your turn? You nibbled on your lip before looking away, feeling torn. You weren’t sure if you ever wanted to become a vampire. If you did that meant you’d be tormented all the longer at watching Jungkook grow into the king he had been born to be...Jungkook…

It came like a wave in your chest as you sighed, unable to look him in the eyes as you murmured, “I’ll think about it.” You would not.

Waking up in bed you felt groggy as you shifted, the rays of morning light causing you to squint before sighing, you didn’t remember falling asleep in bed? You had ended up staying most of the night with Taehyung by the lake, your conversation moving to more pleasant topics and you had lost track of time, ending up falling asleep against his shoulder. He must’ve took you back home.

A surge of warmth filled your chest at the notion before you pulled yourself from your bed, changing into your regular work attire as you fixed your choker that had become crooked. After you finished changing you went about your morning routine, waking up a few of the ladies you would help tend to that morning before going to the kitchen to serve those of the human side of the court.

It was nearing eleven when you made your way to Jungkook’s office, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little nervous, he’d be on a morning ride no doubt but still being in his space left you anxious. Had he fed last night? Surely he did…Closing the door to his office you sighed in relief at the empty space, you began your usual cleaning routine in hopes you’d finish before he had come in unlike yesterday which lead you to this situation.

Thankfully it didn’t take long to do your usual polishing and dusting before exiting the room, next you would’ve tended to his bedroom- except you were stopped short in the hallway at one of the uppermaids who near begged you to help out with one of the ladies in waiting who was throwing a tantrum about not having enough maids to help her get ready. You never turn down a fellow maids request and therefore made your way to the room.

The day had only became more grueling from there, the lady had almost snapped at your entrance and disregarded the fact that you went out of your way to help and almost immediately began demanding you fix her hair.

Upon her exit from the room you were positive almost all of the maids let out an audible sigh of relief, yourself included, “Could you get her a lavender satchel from the apothecary in town Y/n?” One of the maids asked, her eyes glossy as if she had been trying to hold back her tears from the court lady who had been nothing short of rude to you all, “Please? I must get back to my mistress.”

“Of course,” You smiled gently while nodding as she cried out a thank you. You had afterwards sighed, you’d never tend to the Prince’s requirements at this rate. Going to your room you plucked the red cloak before pulling it over your shoulders and heading for the apothecary shop.

It shouldn’t have been too far of a walk, you had already made your way down the stone walkway and into the busy town. Everyone was as lively as ever, stalls had just opened and the human farmers of the land had just set their produce out for one another.

Stepping inside the shop you couldn’t help but let the brief smile pull on your lips at it’s quaint appearance and warm homey atmosphere, flowers adorned the whole shop inside giving it a beautiful fragrance and vivid color as you glanced around, you had never been somewhere with so much color, it was gorgeous. You stopped short at the pretty wrath hanging from the front desk of the shop, the pretty delicate purple flowers making you lean down, the urge to pluck one just to smell it’s pretty petals.

“Careful,” You jumped at the sound of the voice from behind you, you had whirled around with cheeks slightly flushed at the sight of the girl, no older than you with a large crooked smirk on her face and feline like eyes, long, thick, beautiful lashes fluttering as she glanced up from you from her large round and pointed hat, “Periwinkle is often associated with witchcraft you wouldn’t want to be seen wearing those in your hair.” You felt an odd shiver up your spine at her oddly playful words, timidly you gave a nod and small polite smile in thanks.

“Would you hush and go tend to the herbs!” Another girl had quickly stepped into the room from it’s back door, her sister you assumed as she scolded, quickly walking behind the desk as she gave you a smile, “I’m sorry for my sister, she never knows when to quit.”

You briefly glanced at the sister who only let a mischievous smile pull on her lips before she sent you a wink, exiting out the backdoor her sister had just come through. You felt a surge of oddness come over you, what odd sisters who ran the shop. You quickly gave your note to the shop owner for the order of lavender and she wasted no time pulling it from the other side of the desk.

For as beautiful as their shop was, you couldn’t help but be thankful to step outside of it, bringing the lavender satchel up to your nose only briefly before smiling at such a pleasant smell. You were deft in your return to the castle once more, stopping short in the courtyard as you almost ran into a figure.

The familiar dark head of hair turning around in confusion before beaming at you, “Y/n,” Taehyung instantly took your hand to brush a kiss over your knuckle, “I didn’t expect to see you out here.”

“I had to fetch an order for one of the court ladies,” You held up the satchel with a small smile before feeling your cheeks tinge slightly pink, “Thank you for bringing me home last night…”

Taehyung’s smile softened, his hand squeezing yours before pressing his lips back to your hand, “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” Your face had become even more flushed at his words. Those unnatural blue eyes that looked so foreign on him compared to those warm brown hues he had when he was a human.

“Y/n,” You almost immediately jumped from Taehyung’s grip at the sharp voice that came from ahead, the sight of Jungkook nearly made your heart drop into your stomach, his expression was neutral but you could tell there was tension in his shoulders, “There you are, you weren’t attending to your regular duties.”

You instantly dropped into a curtsy as Taehyung bowed, “My apologies your Highness, I was sent by a lady in waiting to receive an order for her. I’ll return to my duties.” You could feel his gaze burn into your figure as you kept your gaze from meeting his. As always he was calm and composed, whatever was going through his mind kept secret from you.

“All is forgiven, don’t let me keep you.” Jungkook gave a single nod, his gaze lingering on Taehyung briefly before he turned on his heels and sauntered away leaving you gasping for breath though hoping it didn’t come out as such. Must he always have such an effect on you?

Sighing you watched his broad figure disappear into the castle before turning back to Taehyung with an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, but I must get back to my duties.” Taehyung nodded understandingly before you bid him farewell and returned to the lady’s room and put the satchel of lavender by her bedside.

Relieved to finally have your offset morning rectified you made your way to the kitchen to help prepare for lunch. Your thoughts lingered on Jungkook the whole afternoon though, you had only seen him once today and out of all times it had to be when you were with Taehyung.

He didn’t seem angry though nor was he crazed by bloodthirst. You couldn’t help but feel relieved by the notion, all had returned to normal it seemed. And though you felt a little dim from the idea you knew it was for the best.

You repeated to yourself once more that it was never meant to be anyways. Nor would it ever work out. You were not only a human but a maid and the whole court had a tendency to snub both of which you fell under. You supposed what you felt must’ve just been seduction from him. Most women would feel that way regardless, the Prince didn’t need his supernatural charm to win people over.

Sighing you set the plate down as you helped served the human ladies in waiting as they all sat at the small table on the terris laughing in delight at one another's conversation. One of these women would be carrying Jungkook’s children one day, the idea almost made you sick. But this was always the harsh reality you faced. That couldn’t ever change.

It was nightfall and you were well aware you had gotten caught up in the day all too fast and had forgotten to clean up Jungkook’s bedroom altogether, sighing you supposed it would be another late day and Kang Minsoo would not be happy to see your presence leaving as she entered.

But unless she wanted to be took on blood stained sheets- the ones which were her fault. Then she’d simply have to deal with it for today.

Gently knocking on the door you waited a moment only for no sound to reply on the other side. Opening the door you noticed the room was empty, it was rather odd given Jungkook was usually retired by now but then again it also wasn’t uncommon for him to work later into the night, vampires didn’t require rest the way humans did after all.

You had instantly began sprucing up the room, cleaning and tidying his things before stripping his bed from it’s sheets, you swallowed a cringed at how rough the bed appeared today. The sheets torn and lewd marks and liquids covered it but there was not a drop of blood to be seen.

You frowned before sighing, pulling them off and into the hamper before setting out a fresh sheet and making the bed, finishing with all of it’s pillows back in place before folding the final blanket- the velvet one you secretly loved. Gently smoothing out it’s edges as you finished your final touches on the room.

“Where were you last night?” You almost jumped out of your skin at the harshly whispered words in your ears, arms tightly coiling around you body as Jungkook growled against your ear, “I waited for hours my love.”

You stiffened at his words before swallowing harshly, guilt instantly biting in your stomach at how hurt his voice was and how the anger quivered in its wake, you should’ve known better then to assume he was fine, “Do you know how vile it is to drink from those women?” His nose brushed roughly against your neck as he growled them out, “I was so frustrated last night when I had her in my bed when all I wanted was you.”

You could feel your lips quiver slightly and the burn between your legs increase as you frowned, staring down at the red velvet before finally murmuring, “You know as well as I do that nothing good would come of this. It was for the best....please let me go.” You weren’t sure if you meant it physically or emotionally.

Your words only made his grip on you tighten as he growled again, fingers digging into the fabric of your bodice and his cold breath against your skin causing goosebumps to form in its path, “I’ll renounce my whole life before I give up my mate.”

Your gasp was stuck in your throat his words his...mate? Mate was used in two terms- one in reference to a bond formed between two vampires, the equivalent of a human marriage, and then mate which referenced before marriage that likened to that of a soulmate. Seldom did a vampire actually come across their mate, and here Jungkook was claiming you were his.

“Please don’t make this harder for me…” You almost pleaded softly, closing your eyes as your hands wrapped around his arms, squeezing tightly as if hoping your grip would make him let go. You could bare plenty in your life, but having him act as if you were mates, you don’t know if you could go on any further with that information.

Jungkook fingers dug further into your skin making you emit a soft whimper, his voice gripped and tone serious as he replied, “You are my mate. I’m only telling you the truth. Why do you think we’re so drawn together.”

Your breath hitched at the feeling of his cold soft lips pressing into your neck, your eyes drawing closed at the soft sensation as his grip released into a gentle hold, his fingers petting down the sides of your body, “You’re the love of my life Y/n, I won’t let you slip away from me. Not now, not ever. You’re mine as I am yours.” He pressed kisses into your neck with each word, “Now let me make you mine. Take it off my love. I’ve craved you for so long. Don’t deny me now.”

He spoke soft ushered words that tickled against your skin. Your resolve had been broken so quickly as your fingers fumbled to your neck undoing the chain before letting it flutter to the ground as Jungkook let his own hands begin to untie your bodice.

Jungkook let his lips part as he grazed his tongue over your skin causing you to shutter, feeling the bodice slip from your shoulders leaving you feeling bare and open in just your slip dress.

His hands tenderly dragging up your stomach until they kneaded against your breasts, “Mmm! Y-your Highness I can’t be your mate…” You were already rubbing your thighs together as heat pooled between your legs.

His tongue left your body void but his grip over your breasts didn’t falter, “But you are my love,” He continued his trail of wet kisses along your neck, “I’ll protect you, I’ll turn you and you will carry my children, be my wife if you’ll only let me.” His hands were already pulling up your dress, suddenly pulling it over your head leaving you bare and your nipples perking to the cold air of the room making a whimper escape you.

The idea had nearly swept you off your feet and your panties clung to your folds in a sticky mess at the feeling of his cold hands running over the open skin of your near naked body.

His hand made its way back down your body before making you gasp at the feeling of his hand pushing underneath your panties, his long slim fingers grazing delicately over your hypersensitive bud, “Oh! Mmm! Y-your Highness.” Your arms finally shot up over your head to dig into his hair as he sucked down against your neck, the wave of pleasure shuttering in your body making you squeeze your thighs tightly together.

“You’ve never even touched yourself have you?” Jungkook murmured with a purr as he let his digits rub back down against the sensitive bud making a new louder whimper fall from your lips, “So sensitive and pure,” Jungkook smiled sweetly into your skin as you pressed against him harder at the feeling of his fingers only moving a hair faster against your clit, “I’ll have to treat my princess well tonight won’t I?”

Your hips embarrassingly bucked into his hand at the intense pleasure tremoring through your body and your need for more rushing through your body, “I-I was taught my whole life to abstain. You’ve made that hellish that past four months.” He chuckled softly against your skin before removing his hand from your panties making you stifle a whined objection.

Jungkook turned you around to finally feast his eyes on your body, your shyness had begun to take over shifting and trying to not cover yourself. It was in one swift motion Jungkook had pushed you onto the bed, pulling your thighs over his shoulders making your face turn bright red.

“Mmm I could tell, I could smell your arousal everytime,” Jungkook let his tongue graze over your inner thigh causing you to squirm with a whimper, “You’re so wet and I haven’t even done anything,” Jungkook almost groaned before letting his tongue press against the fabric separating his tongue and your soft wet folds. You almost strangled out a cry at such a foreign sensation but your body was burning in need for more, “P-please sir-”

Jungkook pulled at the band of your panties before his eyes lidded, “Say my name.” It was a calm demand as he forced his gaze to hold yours while pulling off your panties, you felt flush and exposed, your cunt dripping wet and slick to the touch as your arousal began to slide with a drip.

“J...Jungkook please.” Your voice was soft and pleading, your tone timid as your lips quivered your body ached in such an intense need you could hardly comprehend it. You needed him so badly you were sure you’d step into your grave early if he didn’t take you now.

You watched his lips flick into a wicked smirk changing his whole demeanor as he thumbed against your hipbones, “What a good girl,” He cooed out making you throw your head back with a whine, your cunt aching to be filled as he let his tongue drag against your thigh, purposely ignoring the delicious sight just begging to be ate, “Does my princess want something? Use your words.”

You had arched your back with a whine as he trailed his tongue teasingly closer to your dripping folds, “Jungkook don’t tease me,” your words were begging as you squirmed beneath him, “Please use your tongue, please!” You whined at feeling your pussy almost burn in desire, you needed him so badly.

Jungkook let out an approving hum before leaning down, letting his tongue swipe up a strip of your folds making you almost cry from the odd feeling, his wet tongue mingling with your juices as he inhaled slowly, “You taste just as good as I imagined.”

And in one breath he began given your needy cunt kitten licks while making his way up to your clit. You were a moaning mess as your back cramped from it’s arch and the soft bed beneath you offered no comfort as his tongue slowly dragged against your sensitive bud, “O-ooh Jungkook! Mm!”

You were almost incoherent as you thrashed beneath him your body in near shock at the intense pleasure running through your body. Your hips almost rolling along with his tongue as he dragged it against your clit before hitting a spot that made your vision almost blurry.

Gathering your little clit into his mouth he sucked against it gently, letting his tongue prod along it’s sides while you moaned helplessly beneath him unable to even speak anymore as the orgasm rode through your whole body. Jungkook had allowed his long digits to run along your wet folds as he continued to help you ride your orgasm out before pushing a finger inside you.

Pain instantly shot through you as you whimpered trying to pull away on first reaction, “Shhh,” Jungkook cooed out lovingly, pressing a little kiss against your thigh as he pulled out, gathering more of your wetness along his finger before pushing back into your entrance with ease, “Just relax love, it won’t hurt for much longer.” Your thighs were already shaking but you attempted to do as you were told. Whimpering slightly at the feeling of his digit pushing further inside you before pumping slowly.

Your arousal was messy and undoubtedly dripping on the bed by now as it continued to produce from your entrance, his gentle pumping picked up a little at the sight of your hips beginning to roll in sync, “Does it feel good darling?” Jungkook cooed, his tongue dragging back down your thigh again as you whimpered with a nod, causing the smirk to break back onto his lips, “Such a good girl for me, you look so pretty right now Y/n.”

He watched in almost blind pleasure at the way your hips bucked into his hand at his words and the way your velvety wet walls clenched around his single digit as you whined, “Someone loves being a good girl? Don’t you?” His smirk widened at your nod, your neck stretching out and head turning as if just offering yourself for taking as your hips quickly rode against his finger. Jungkook slowly pushed in his next digit, your little whimper like music to his ears as you stretched to accommodate him.

It was slightly uncomfortable at first but your hips refused to stop riding his fingers, the stretch not comparing to the feeling of the pads of his fingertips grazing against the walls of your needy pussy, “Do you want your second release?” Jungkook asked with a purr making you choke out a whimper as you nodded.

He instantly let his fingers curl inside you making you clench around him with a moan at the unexpected new sensation, pleasure shooting through you as you whimper, “A-ah! Jungkook, right there!” You whined your thighs clamping around him harshly, those silky long locks of hair tickling against your skin as his fingers dug into your g-spot.

“Mmm, you sound so pretty when you moan like that sweetheart,” Jungkook murmured, his hand pumping into you quicker making sure you were nothing short of a whining, moaning mess as you clenched around him harshly, body so sensitive as you bucked into him, “Cum for me princess.”

Obediently your walls clenched around him harshly as he hit your g-spot one last time, your body curling and aching as your second orgasm washed over you and your cunt needily sucking his fingers into you further as you moaned far louder than you ever wanted too.

Just at the peak of your pleasure you felt a sharp sting in your thigh before the pleasure in you almost twisted and snapped even harsher making your head fall back with close to a scream leaving your lips.

Jungkook’s eyes were bright blood red before fluttering them shut as he bit into your inner thigh, your blood sweet and light nearly making him dizzy headed. Euphoria nearly achieved as your hips rode against his fingers, letting them hit into your g-spot skillfully making your next orgasm arrive closer.

“J-Jungkook I’m- I’m..!” Your voice was cracked and another whimper fell from your lips as his thumb suddenly dragged up to your clit as your hips continued to move with his fingers.

Rubbing friction between both spots had you coming again as you moaned brokenly, nearly sobbing at the pleasure and sensitivity your body was under as you rapidly clenched and released around his fingers, a weird sensation bubbling inside you making you swallow and whimper before liquid came spewing from your abused little hole.

You were hazy and you could feel the wave of embarrassment but it didn’t quite reach you due to the pleasure your body was swimming in. Jungkook pulled away from your thighs, his usual maroon color burning blood red and color was flushed in his face making him more human than he’d ever be, his hair now wet and the haughty smirk coiled on his face grounding you back to what had just happened as your lips parted several times, “I...did I..?”

Jungkook released your thighs from his grip as he set you down, kissing along your stomach as he replied, “You squirted princess, and you looked fucking hot while doing it.” Your mouth went dry at his vulgarity but your body was relit at his words despite your thighs snapping shut. Jungkook had pulled away before unbuttoning his shirt leaving you almost swallowing your soft whine at the sight of his chiseled upper body on display.

It was when he let his pants drop that your lips quivered into a pout at the large cock that sprang from it laying towards his abdominal. His shaft was thick and curved slightly with a vein protruding, leaving you with the strong urge to touch it as precum oozed from his large bulbous head as he licked his lips, “Don’t worry my love,”

He lunged down, caging you between his arms as his lips sucking against your neck, “It’ll fit. It may be uncomfortable at first so tell me to stop if it hurts.” He peppered little kisses into the crook of your neck before parting your legs and slotting himself between them, grasping his cock as he pumped himself a few times while letting out a breathy moan.

You shifted slightly against him with a shaky breath yourself only to flutter your eyes shut at the feeling of his head running along your sticky slit, letting it drag in circles over your already sensitive clit as you bit back a cry.

Jungkook continued to let his shaft run along your folds covering himself in your arousal before lining his hips up with yours, with ease he began to push his tip inside you causing you to whimper from the uncomfortable stretch. Jungkook buried into your neck as he paused his movements pressing a little kiss against your skin before easing himself in further with a soft relieved sigh.

“Y-you’re so big.” You whimpered, your body clenched around his size as he gently pushed his shaft further inside you. You could feel his cock throb slightly at your words and his lips parted against your neck before sucking it’s skin.

“You feel so good princess,” Jungkook finally released a moan, forcing himself to stop at the sound of your whimper now taking his whole cock inside you like the big girl he knew you were, “I’ve loved you for so long now, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.”

He kept kissing your neck, not only was he in physical euphoria, but he was also in emotional as well, finally having you in his arms after all these years, always having to pretend as if he didn’t see you among the crowd of servants, how long he ached for your touch, “How much I need you.”

Your body shuddered at his words as he began to pull himself out of you and rolling his hips gently into you again, letting out a soft moan your walls began to relax and stretch comfortably around him, “I- I love you too.” You finally said those dreaded, damn words you had worked so hard to never think of, Jungkook had made them so easy to say as he thrusted back into you deeply, his thick shaft running along your g-spot making you moan as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Jungkook instantly let his fangs run along your neck as his hips suddenly snapped into yours making you whimper at the rough sensation as your legs shakily wrapped around his waist, “Mmm, my beautiful mate,” Jungkook’s voice was filled with pride and lust as he let his hips take over, thrusting into you at whatever speed they pleased as you whimpered.

Clenching around him as he continuously dragged along your g-spot, his pubic bone rubbing into your clit as you moaned, hands tangling into those long silky locks you imagined doing so many nights spent alone, “Where did you go last night?” He suddenly demanded, his tone stern and hissing in possessiveness, “Was it with that little knight that wouldn’t keep his hands away from you.”

His voice snapped as much as his hips, you couldn’t even form a full sentence as his thumb suddenly reached down to rub harshly over your abused little clit, “You’re mine. Mine.” He hissed with venom, “Mine to hold, mine to love, mine to fuck. Mine.” He emphasized every word with each punctuated thrust that had you rapidly clenching around him as he roughly rubbed circles around your hypersensitive nub.

You were coming for the fourth time in seconds as you clenched around him harshly, eyes watering from how sensitive you became as the pain smoothly mixed with the pleasure he put your body under, “Say it.” He snapped, lips lunging down before he let his fangs sink into your skin making you cry a whimper as your euphoria clouded your vision and your orgasm magnified once more, his release stringing deep inside you as his own orgasm took over his body.

‘I-I’m yours! I’m only yours Jungkook. I only belong to you.” You whimpered feeling his body relax and your head become lighter as he drank slowly and with ease as his hips slowly followed suit until he pulled his softening cock out of you. Cum dripping between your legs and a sheen of sweat covered both of you.

His fangs dug into your skin and his thumbs rubbed gently against your thighs as he took his time, enjoying the only blood that could ever sate his appetite, his emptiness and loneliness.

Your eyes were becoming heavy with a need for sleep as Jungkook continued his feeding, careful to not overindulge or drink too fast. Your body felt complete, and whole, safe with him hovering on top of you protectively.

Slowly you let your eyes droop before allowing yourself to fall into a restful sleep.

Waking up your vision was blurred and your body nipped with a chill as you shifted, a little confused at first, you never had this much sunlight in your bedroom...Your eyes suddenly shot open when you remembered it was because you weren’t in your bedroom. Instead you were in the only bedroom you had become so acquainted with outside your own.

Jungkook’s arms were wrapped around you and your back was pressed snug into his chest, his locks of hair tickling against your cheek as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, pressing a sleepy kiss into his bite mark making you wince from the afterpain.

You allowed yourself a few minutes to enjoy the silence of the room, the love of your life holding you in his arms with no objections or misleading words to shoo you from his room, it was perfect. You could wake up like this every day if you could...If you could…”Jungkook.” You finally murmured softly.

“Hm?” He hummed out, his voice groggy and his eyes still snapped shut, perhaps still half asleep and not even fully conscious of his voice.

Shifting slightly you let your fingers trace against the cold skin of his hand that had begun to stroke your stomach gently, “What’s going to happen now? If anyone finds out you bit me…”

Your lips quivered at so many thoughts crashing into your mind, what of the sisterhood? Your only solace now took from you. What about Taehyung and his love for you now fully unrequited. What was going to happen to you?

“If they find out they’ll answer to me my love,” His voice was deeper than usual, ridden with sleep as he shifted against you, not particularly worried as he lovingly stroked your soft skin, adoring the gentle beat of your heart as he let his nose rub along the sweet love bite tainting your pure skin, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Turning around to face him you, for the first time in all your life you let full happiness flood every fiber of your being, a beautiful smile Jungkook would forever cherish sight of staining your lips before pressing a sweet, chaste kiss against his lips.

Letting his nose rub against yours before gently stroking your hair and tucking you away into his chest, “Now go back to sleep, my love, all will be taken care of.”

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