#It would be interesting if his body went missing and her prayer to find him WAS actually legitimately answered

[bonefall]

Do you have anything concrete for Jayclaw in BB? Curious about him since we never really learn how he dies. We don't really know much about him, besides the fact he's reasonable, fast and had a physical fight with his brother over a small mess.

Funny enough I have had a crystal clear image in my head of who Jayclaw is for years, and have not had to change it at all. He's a total background character but for some reason I just know what this dude's about.

Jayclaw was a dancer, a FANTASTIC one. He played Jingleshells, which are a full-body instrument made of netting and percussive beads. His performances were playful and dramatic, and he reveled in pulling off impressive movements while still keeping rythmn with his chimes.

His friend group was essentially a little band. His brother Owlnose played drums, his friend Podlight sang, and that connection was how he was introduced to Curlfeather. It was impossible to resist his charms once he started courting her-- he was fun-loving, romantic, and absolutely captivating.

Curlfeather loved him so much that sometimes it was hard to look at him. "I can't be seeing you right now, you're going to make me grin like a fool."

"Like it would be so terrible for you to brighten my day, gorgeous?"

Losing him was sudden, unexpected, and heartbreaking. I don't know what it was specifically, but I do know it was a freak accident and quite violent. He left camp one day in the prime of his life, and came back dead.

I don't think his passing planted any seeds in Curl's mind that weren't already there, but the combined stress of grief and the loss of her emotional "rock" was the catalyst.

In fact, at first, believing Frostpaw's bad dream had been a vision was probably something Curlfeather actually believed, or otherwise was something she came up with for non-nefarious reasons. Like maybe Frostpaw believing her vision "killed her mi," and Curlfeather meant to soothe her by explaining that visions simply predict the future and that his death wasn't something she caused.

In any case, after his death, Curlfeather was driven towards acting on her ambition. That's Jayclaw! Trophy husband who died ❤️

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Did you ever experience something, whether it’s a something you read or watched or tasted or listened to, and love it so insanely much that you actually get mad at yourself for not finding it sooner? Because that’s exactly what just happened with this fic. BRANDY! This is so fricking GOOD! I want this story carved into the walls of my skull YESTERDAY! GOSH!

I honestly don’t know where to start. The outstanding world building? The spot on characterization and dialogue? The incredible premise of this whole story? THE TWIST?! (Actually that sounds like the perfect outline, let’s go with that.)

The world building. Part of what makes Prospect fic so fun and interesting is the way writers fill out more of the universe we’re shown such a small part of in canon. And boy oh boy you didn’t just fill it out - you poured it on, smoothed the edges, blended the colors, added layers. I could see everything so vividly, and it all felt so natural and integrated. I loved the details about the clinic, especially the fact that it was founded by a miner and so miners are given preferential treatment. And the different model types of the prosthetics (the pulse and body temperature features!! So cool!) and other devices, and the likelihood (or rather, unlikelihood) of people being able to get those devices really added depth. I loved, loved, LOVED the grittiness here, too, from the basement pawn shop diner with synthetic alcohol to the near-knife fight in the busy city street. It all just felt so right and so real.

The characterization. Every single word out of Ezra’s mouth sounded 110% like something he’d say. From the smooth talking to the aggression to the lesser shown softer side. Even the lows. Ezra is such an independent person. A solo act. He takes pride in it, almost, (even if there’s a little shame that shows it’s face sometimes over what he’s done/is willing to do to survive) So when he loses his arm and with it the ability to do certain things for himself, he also loses sight of his future. Hearing him confess that he was so close to giving up is so heartbreaking, but unfortunately it also seems to fit him. But then so does his enthusiasm once the tables are turned, and so does his willingness to do absolutely whatever it takes to help his Starshine. He’s a good man in scoundrel’s clothing. Okay maybe sometimes it’s more than just clothing but sometimes it’s warranted.

Hang on a minute because Starshine deserves a bullet point all her own. I seriously love her. She’s incredible. What a selfless, kind, positive person. It’s absolutely no wonder why Ezra falls so fast and fully for her. I’m sure Cee likes her, too.

The premise & the twist. I’m obsessed? The very nerve of you to be so bold while playing with our hearts. Of course Ezra, who is going through this crisis of his own, is going to see and assume that this woman is there for her missing finger. That’s why she’s getting passed over for other “more dire” cases, right? Because it’s just a finger. Could be worse. 😖 I suspected that it was worse, but not for the reason it turned out to be. (My mind went to her being a musician or artist who could no longer make her art or music anymore, which would be sad, but that wasn’t sad enough, WAS IT?! 😭) Oh my WORD, when I tell you I GASPED when she revealed the truth about her condition?? My dog even came over to check on me because I was distraught. And then of course her previous actions/words made so much more sense (her “prayer” hands over her chest, her comment about her heart rate spiking when Ezra went fight club on that asshat, her willingness to jump feet first into this relationship). I was terrified that her gift of telling Ezra about the loophole for miners would cost everything. But then you reminded us just how dangerous and resourceful Ezra is. How willing he is to take big risks to save those that are important to him (and just how quickly and completely a person becomes important to him). How he really is a good man dressed as a convincing scoundrel. Amazing. I’m giving a standing ovation.

I will be thinking about this story … forever? And that is so more than fine with me. Thank you for writing this and giving Ezra and Starshine to each other. (And to all of us)

Cross My Heart

Ezra x f!reader

Summary: "I do not know who I am when I am half a man." Words: 5.7k

For the #pedrostoriesgift23 Holiday Gift Exchange and the lovely @oonajaeadira who is my secret giftee! Your prompt was :

Romance, soft, yearning, hopeful. F!reader. If there's a kiss involved, I wouldn't complain. Random prompt: heart.

Hope you enjoy it, as per usual Ezra got a little (a lot) away from me.

My Masterlist

Rated: Teen Warnings: Talk of self harm / suicide but no one does it, discussion of medical procedures and prostheses, some use of ability based slurs by Ezra and others, canon typical violence, hint of spice

The smell hit him first.

Sterile, antiseptic. There was no tang of iron, or the almost vinegary smell of the Green. No dirt, no grime, no unwashed bodies or hint of explosives. Not the sweet stench of decay.

It smelled wrong.

Ezra grimaced as he scanned his identicard, watching the numbers flash up and a younger, cockier version of himself stared down from the screen. The picture was from before his first trip. Before he’d left the inner rings to find his luck in the reaches. Long before the Green.

A line of text directed him to sit in the waiting area and he glanced over the occupants. An older man in a wheelchair sat in the corner, head leaning forward and a line of drool dripping onto one thigh as he snored loudly. He was missing both legs above the knee. A few feet away, a scrawny teenager furtively glanced around the room with one eye, the other an empty hole she hadn’t bothered to cover. A woman with her left arm amputated below the elbow. A man around his age who had the pale, sickly yellow tinged skin that denoted liver failure. Another wheelchair. Another amputee. The room was full of those who had lost something. 

He felt right at home.

The Emric Chan Prosthesis Clinic welcomed everyone - the most destitute scavenger could come on their free clinic day and if the stars aligned have their life changed. The doctor he’d seen on the sling had recommended it to him. He couldn’t afford anything better than a hook but if he was chosen here he’d get a neurobionic arm.

A fresh start.

He finally chose a seat next to a woman near his age, maybe a bit younger. She was missing her forefinger on her right hand, a place she fidgeted with as he watched. Running the thumb of her other hand across it and grimacing as though it still hurt. He could understand that. Though it had been months since he lost his arm the stump still twinged occasionally.

“How long have you been waiting?”

Her eyes met his and he noted their pretty color, the ring of lashes that framed them and the soft “oh” her lips made before she answered. “I got here this morning.”

He frowned, “That’s hours ago, are they struggling to see people today?”

She snorted and a small smile pulled at her lips. She was quite pretty. “First time?”

He smiled in return, “I am a veritable virgin sacrifice to these halls.”

A laugh escaped her and she quickly covered her mouth, glancing around the room to see if anyone noticed. “I doubt that.”

He wanted to hear that laugh again. “In this I am yet a babe in the woods. I take it that it is not as straightforward as arriving in a timely fashion for my appointment?”

“No,” a fidget again as she tangled her fingers together. “They’ve got this algorithm. It looks at how dire your situation is, what kind of prostheses they have, what doctors are available… I don’t really understand it. You see Alaric in the corner?” She tipped her chin to the man snoring in the wheelchair and Ezra nodded. “He’s been coming here longer than I have. Once a month for the free clinic, just like us. He’s never even been called back.”

It seemed to Ezra that the loss of both legs might be considered a more dire situation than his single arm. “That is not exactly comforting.”

A small shrug. “It’s what it is, and for those of us with no other options… at least it’s hope.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, sprawling his legs in front of him and staring at the toe of his boot. “I do not have much hope, I’m afraid.”

She gave him a wan smile. “It is a long shot. I’ve been coming for almost a year. There’s also precedence they follow, even more so than your need. People from Ceti Alpha IV, some old families if you can prove you’re related, miners, colonists from-”

Ezra sat bolt upright. “Hold a moment there, did you say miners?”

“Yeah, the guy who founded this place made his money out in the reaches. One of their protected classes are IMC members.”

The Interstellar Mining Cooperative. Why hadn’t he thought of it? He was a member, at least he was pretty sure he was. They had some sparse benefits that he had never made much use of - but the appended callsign had landed him a few premier docking spaces and discounts on the sling. He hadn’t thought about it in years, yet the membership should have renewed unless something had changed.

“And if I were an IMC member?”

Her smile faltered a moment before returning. “Then yeah, you’ll jump to the front unless there’s another miner with something more serious.”

A flush of joy spread over him and he fumbled with his data pad. It took longer than it should, he was yet unused to working solely with his left hand, but soon he had his member page in his hand, a bright gold chisel in the corner.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He turned the data pad to show her. “It seems my luck has finally turned.”

Her nod was accompanied by another tight smile and she let out a soft sigh as she settled back into her chair. “I guess there’s always next time.”

“Do not look so forlorn, gem,” his grin was so wide it almost hurt. “While the loss of a digit is inconvenient, I assure you things could be worse.”

Her eyes fell to her lap, where nine fingers were intertwined. Brows drawing together she frowned for a moment before shrugging. “I suppose so. You should update your file, make sure you’re seen today if they can.”

He rose to his feet and then paused. Quickly, he dropped to one knee in front of her and reached out with his remaining hand to take her injured one. “You didn’t have to tell me, I would have never known. Thank you.”

“If it’s not you it would have been someone else.” Her eyes were sparkling and he wondered if they were tears. “There’s always someone who takes the slot. Always.”

“I cannot offer you a new digit, I myself am down to only five, but I would like to offer you dinner. If you would like?”

A moment of uncertainty passed before she nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

They traded identifications and he couldn’t help but look back as he crossed to the check-in. She had her hands pressed together to her chest, her lips resting on the back of one thumb.

He wondered if she was praying.

She wasn’t going to show.

Ezra tapped his fingers on the table and glanced around the room. It wasn’t the nicest place in the Narrows, but not the worst either. The food was good and if it came with a side of attitude in the basement of a pawn shop, who was he to judge?

The numbers on his watch clicked over and he sighed. He was in an extraordinarily good mood and she was ruining it. 

With a grunt he pulled the menu up on the table and selected a bottle of synthehol. It didn’t taste as good as the real thing, or so he was told, but it gave as good of a buzz as any. It arrived a moment later and he flicked the top off with practiced ease. Pouring his glass he held it to the light for a moment and then let a slow grin overtake his face.

He was getting a new arm.

A GH7 Neurobionic Prosthesis to be exact. Top of the line with a lifetime guarantee. 

A lifetime guarantee.

That would be enough to get everything back on track. To go back to prospecting if he wanted. According to the pamphlet the prosthesis would connect directly into his nervous system. The skin tone would match and he would be able to feel everything as though it was his original arm. In short, it would be as though it never happened. There were even opportunities to upgrade - if he could scare up the credits - and add in sensors and utilities that might help his life someday.

“Ezra?”

The soft voice jolted him from his reverie and he saw her standing nearby, a blue grey tunic belted at the waist and a pair of grey trousers underneath. A black armband peeked out from her sleeve. In a burst of motion he leapt to his feet, throwing his arm around her and pulling her into half an embrace.

“Darling, you came!” With a quick shuffle he led her to the other side of his table, letting her go long enough to pull the chair out and settle her into it. “May I offer you a libation? I have had finer vintages but it is quite nice in its own right.” At her nod he filled a glass for her, cheeks nearly hurting from the smile that wreathed his face when he sat across from her.

“I do not have the words to express my gratitude for your help this afternoon.” He pulled the menu up and spun it her direction. “Please, order whatever you like. This is my treat.”

“So I take it you qualified?”

“Passed with flying colors! My surgery is five spans hence.”

“That’s so good, just in time for the Prophet’s Name Day!” She flipped through the menu and ordered, flicking the holo away. “A basic unit or…?”

Taking it as a prompt he launched into the details of his new arm, pulling the brochure up on his data pad and showing her the specs. She made the appropriate oohing and ahhing noises as he did so, leaning in and pointing out some of the finer details such as the heating elements and pulse that would make it mimic the original even more closely than he had thought.

“It truly is a dream,” he sighed when he had finally finished. “And I have you to thank for it. If you hadn’t…” He swallowed, glancing away and feeling a flush come over him. “I must admit I was having thoughts of a rather permanent nature.”

Her hand came out to cover his, fingers intertwining. “Don’t talk like that.”

He turned his hand over in hers, returning her grip with a fierce squeeze, “I do not know who I am when I am half a man. My livelihood depends on the use of both - on the security of its presence. Without it… I ask you, what use would I be?”

“A man is more than his use, Ezra,” she scolded softly.

A shake of his head cut her off before she could continue. “Not for me. I am not made to be idle, nor to live on the charity of others. Had this not worked, had you not been there, well, I have cheated death enough to not begrudge her her final say.”

The look she gave him was commiserating but she didn’t argue. “I get it, sometimes it seems easier to just let go than it is to hope.”

“Oh, I have hope now, starshine, you have given me hope.”

She pulled her hand away and took a sip of her drink. “I didn’t do anything. You would have figured it out on your own.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “or maybe I would have let yet another chance at happiness pass me by.“ He gave her a considering look. She was pretty, in a way he might have overlooked in different circumstances. He had always been one to chase the flashy, to always be looking to the next thing and ignore what was in front of him. Maybe it was time to rethink that strategy.

“I don’t reckon you would be amenable to seeing me again?”

She looked away for a moment, lips pressed together as she nodded almost shyly. “I’m also in the ‘take a chance’ ship these days, and you seem nice.”

He laughed, “I can honestly say that no person has ever graced me with the moniker ‘nice’ before, but for you I shall strive to meet your aspirations.”

A grin played on her lips and she met his eyes. “Well, handsome then.”

“I am delighted that you think so,” he grinned in return. “Now, why don’t you tell me about your life before you found yourself seated in this lovely establishment this evening?”

They spoke for hours. About her time working in the dockyards, the early deaths of her parents, and the unscrupulous manager that necessitated her move to the Narrows. In return he spoke of the brother he had lost in the silicon mines, the various adventures he had been on while alone, and of Cee.

“A spitfire if ever I have seen one,” he claimed as a bot cleaned the table next to them. “She’s the reason you find me with less than the standard number of limbs.”

“Oh really?” She seemed shocked. “And you’re still taking care of her?”

“I am not ashamed to admit that I have not always been the best of men - when survival is on the line I can be positively ruthless. And Cee, well… Cee is much like myself. There is a spark in her, a fight. It is a trait I wish to nurture.”

“I don’t know if I could be like that,” she responded. “Be so heartless I hurt someone else just to save myself.”

“I’m wounded you think me so pitiless. Perhaps you could give me a chance to show you my softer side?”

He expected her to turn timid - everything he had learned about her so far gave the picture of a woman who was not prone to rash decisions or impulsiveness. So he was pleasantly surprised when she grinned at him.

“I could be convinced.”

He walked her home, of course. He liked to think himself a gentleman and was nothing if not an opportunist. Which was why when she tilted her head to his at her door he instantly swooped in, reaching out to pull her hips to his and slanting his mouth across hers. He groaned when she arched against him, biting at her lip before pulling back and giving her a slow smile.

“Would you like to come inside?”

His smile widened and he lifted a hand to brush against her cheek. At least, he would have had it been there. He could even see it, the calloused hand with the short fingernails gently tracing what he knew must be soft skin. 

But the absence jolted him from his good mood and he took a step away from her with a grimace. “I would like to be whole if we ever…”

She took his hand in hers, stepping into his space again. “You know I don’t care about that, right Ezra?”

Giving her a wane smile he nodded, “I do know that. But I care.”

“Then I understand.” After a pause she gave him a mischievous grin, “But we can still kiss, can’t we?”

“We absolutely can do that,” he assured her, backing her into the door and closing the distance between them once more. “As often as you’ll allow.”

Her only answer was a low moan that rumbled into his skin and set him afire.

It was going to be a long six spans.

“You don't have to go with me.”

Ezra guided her around a group of teenagers and chuckled as he squeezed her tighter. “You act as though it is a burden to spend time with you.”

“It’s boring. I know, I've been doing it for a cycle.”

It was free clinic day and Ezra had shown bright and early at her flat with a bag of pastries to help her start the morning. She had seemed surprised by his arrival, wrapping a shawl over her shoulders but inviting him in for morning caf and together they had devoured the pastries before she began her trek to the other end of the City.

“It's no trouble, it will give me time to think on my own matters.”

She smiled at a vendor and he gave the man a once over before dismissing him.

“Matters like if you want to include a full arm tattoo?”

He snorted. “The thought occurred but it holds no charm for me. Rather, I've been trying to remember if I had a mole on my pinky or not.”

“Isn’t there a whole saying about knowing things like the back of your hand?”

He stopped her with a slight tug, pulling her into an alcove. With a quick movement he covered her hand with his. “Do you have any?”

She frowned. “On the outside of the back, I think? More like a freckle.”

“Anything else? Scars? Do you know how long your nail beds are?”

She huffed and tugged her hand free, crooking a smile and pointing out the freckle. “For the nail beds, I’d just have them match the other hand.”

“Ah starshine,” he wrapped his arm around her waist again, “your skin is far more unblemished than mine. It will be strange to see skin as marred as mine was - but perhaps it is better to have a clean slate? These are the question that plague me.”

“It’s not-”

Someone shoved into her and she fell against him suddenly. He lifted his other arm to catch her but nothing moved but the short stump. Thrown off balance they both stumbled and, after seeing to her well-being, he rounded on the perpetrator with a fierce frown.

“Watch where you are going.” The man was around his size, maybe an inch taller. Ezra sized him up in a glance, a street thug who would barely be worth the effort of a fight if it came to it.

“Keep your pumbavu bitch out of my way.”

Ezra carefully shifted his expression to the smoothly friendly one he reserved for wayward prospectors who happened to cross his path with more gems than sense.

“There is no need for that kind of language, friend, there is plenty of room for us all.” He gestured at the narrow sidewalk. “Perhaps an apology and we can all be on our way?”

“Apologize?” the man snorted. “To some ampee and whoever was pathetic enough to take your credits?”

“This is your warning,” Ezra told him slowly, shifting his stance and reaching for the knife in his belt. “There will not be another.”

“And what are you going to do? Shoulder me to death?”

Ezra barely waited for him to finish the sentence, palming the blade and slashing out in nearly the same motion. He heard the soft gasp from behind him but ignored her, all of his concentration on the man in his sights. The blade whistled through air and Ezra adjusted, stepping forward and flipping the blade around to catch him on the backswing. From his peripheral he saw the punch coming from his right and raised his hand to block it.

With nothing there the blow caught him squarely in the jaw, sending him reeling back as his vision danced. The force of it made him drop his blade and he heard it clatter to the metal grates beneath their feet before slipping through and disappearing below.

“Prophet’s nutsack, I’ll fucking-”

Suddenly she was there, between them, throwing her arms out and pleading with the man. “Please, this is all a misunderstanding. No one’s hurt, can’t we just leave it at that?”

Ezra, for one, felt hurt but he didn’t say anything about it, shaking his head and trying to stop his ears from ringing.

“Tell your cripple boyfriend to mind his own business.”

Snarling, Ezra prepared to launch himself at the man once more but she had his cheeks in her hands and the concerned look on her face quelled his ire.

“Are you okay? How’s your head?”

“It will be fine, I’ve had worse.”

“Ezra…” she chided, “what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that rat needed a lesson in manners.” She laughed and he realized suddenly how petulant he sounded. “Are you okay, starshine?”

She laid a hand to her chest, “My heart is racing. That can’t be good for me.”

“A little adrenaline keeps you young.”

She gave him a wan smile even as she took deep, steadying breaths. Holding a finger to the pulse point on her wrist she stood a moment longer before she seemed satisfied. “Don’t do things like that, okay?”

“I can make you no promises,” he held an elbow out for her to take and continued them on their way. “I am a man more suited to fight than flight.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Ezra nodded absently, the white walls around him almost mocking in their sterility. His life was about to change and here he was sitting on a paper covered bed in little more than a nightgown.

“And you’re sure you don’t want me to tell Cee?”

“No,” he cut her off quickly, running his hand through his hair and likely ruffling it beyond recovery. “Cee does not need to know of any of this until it is finished.”

She was bustling around the room, folding his clothes into a neater pile and tossing him concerned glances. “I can’t believe you feel more guilty about her than she does about shooting you.”

Ezra shrugged. It was a discussion they had had before and he knew she didn’t understand. She didn’t need to, but he liked that she was trying. 

“Trust me, starshine, she feels exactly as much guilt as she should for her actions.” He caught her arm as she went by again and pulled her to stand between his legs. Pulling her hand to his lips he kissed the spot where her finger was missing. “Are you planning to rearrange the entire room?”

“I’m nervous,” she admitted, leaning into his embrace and settling her head on his shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait here for you?”

“Absolutely not.” He pushed her away so that he could meet her eyes so she would know how serious he was. “Assuming all goes well I will come find you after, don’t you worry about that.”

She didn’t ask what he would do if it didn’t go well - and he didn’t know what his answer would have been regardless.

“HG460372 Theta?”

The voice at the doorway sounded bored and Ezra glanced up as it read off his IMC number. 

“Present.”

“Follow me.”

He slipped off the table and pulled her in for a kiss. “I’ll see you this evening. Wait up for me?”

“I’d wait forever for you.”

For that she got one more quick kiss before he followed after the nurse.

Ezra flexed his fingers, noting the fine brown hairs on his knuckles and the small scar at the base of his thumb. With his left hand he pressed two fingers to his wrist, feeling the steady pulse. The skin wrinkled and moved as he tested it, marveling at the fine interconnected lines.

“Ezra?”

He whipped his head up. He hadn’t even noticed the door sliding open. But there she was, her eyes wide and lips parted as she stared at his new arm. 

At his whole self.

“Oh Ezra, how does it-”

He cut her off with a hand to the back of her neck, pulling her towards him even as he backed her into her small flat. Fingertips felt the hairs at the top of her spine, felt the give of her skin, felt the warmth of her.

“Ezra,” she managed to push him away slightly even as he wrapped his other arm around her waist. “Show me the-”

“I want to feel you, starshine.” They were at her sofa now and he carefully pushed her onto her back, straddling her waist with his knees before pulling away. “We can speak of the particulars at a more opportune time.”

She giggled and yanked him back to her and he caught himself on his prosthetic. He could feel the rough weave of the upholstery even as he shifted his weight so he could use his right hand to undo the buttons of her shirt.

“The doctors told me I should practice my fine motor skills,” he pushed her shirt apart and cupped one of her breasts in his hand. The soft material of her bra gave beneath his fingers and he traced upwards to pull the cup down before he felt something new. 

“What is this?” With a sly grin he traced his fingers over the faint ridges running from her breast up to her shoulder. “A body modification? Do you have others? A tattoo perhaps?”

She faltered, her smile freezing on her face. “Can we not talk about that, Ezra?”

“Ah, a youthful indiscretion? I understand.” He helped her shrug her shirt off and his eyes caught on the band of black encircling her left upper arm. He’d noticed it before, not really giving it much thought. But now that it was exposed he could see that the lines under her skin ran directly to it.

“I must admit you have my curiosity, am I allowed to remove this or-”

She sat up so quickly she nearly brained him, only his quick reflexes allowing him to rear back and avoid a broken nose.

“Do not!”

He spread his fingers wide, noting with pride how strong both of his hands looked. “I will not if you do not wish it, of course, but I should know the bounds of what I can and cannot do. May I touch it at all?”

A deep breath lifted her breasts and he tried to ignore the motion while she gathered herself.

“It’s probably better if you don’t.”

“Then I will not.” He lowered his hands to grip her wrists, massaging the skin with his fingers. “Your secrets are your own, but I hope you will allow me one more question?” At her nod he lifted her left hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Is it dangerous? A drug of some kind?”

“No.” A long silence stretched before she elaborated. “It’s a battery pack.”

Slowly, he let his fingers trace over the edges of the band, following the lines embedded into her skin until they disappeared into her chest. Under the pads of his fingers he could hear the steady, delicate thump of her heart. “A battery pack?”

She didn’t answer but he didn’t need her to. At once the realization crashed on him and he cursed, damning himself for an idiot as he realized how oblivious he had been.

“The clinic - you are not visiting to get your finger replaced, are you?”

She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Starshine, why didn’t you say something? I could have-”

“There’s nothing you could have done,” she interrupted, suddenly taking his hand with her own.

“I could have given you my spot.” He clenched his fist, staring at the ripple of tendons and wires. “I could have forced them to see you instead.”

“Really? You told me you were days from killing yourself if the clinic hadn’t worked out.”

Ezra didn’t reply, his mind a jumble of conflicting thoughts. A month ago he would have agreed. Told her that to live even a moment longer as a cripple was too much. But now…

“I could have waited my turn, if it meant you getting yours.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” she shrugged. “You can’t give up your place like that.”

He laid a palm flat to her chest. “How long?”

“The cardiac unit is a stopgap, they gave me eight months if all went well.”

He stilled, fingers briefly clutching at her. “And how long ago was that?”

“A full cycle.”

“A year,” he croaked, feeling as though perhaps all of his hair had turned white with that statement. “But…”

She pressed her hand to his, over her chest. “It was longer than I ever expected. I fell into the stasis field at the shipyards a year ago - it totally fried my system.” 

“And so you need a new heart.”

“A Yutani-7 artificial heart to be exact, but yeah. Can we get back to the kissing now?”

Ezra leaned back as she reached for him and then couldn’t help a wry smile at her exaggerated pout. “Starshine, you can’t spring a terminal condition on a man and expect him to perform for you.”

She tried to give him a seductive look but betrayed herself with a soft sniffle. “I ruined it didn’t I?”

Shifting to lie next to her, Ezra pulled her into his arms, tucking her head beneath his chin and petting down her back. “You ruined nothing. I am only morose you did not tell me sooner so I might have had time to come to terms with the knowledge before being asked to ravish you.”

“So is ravishing off the table then?”

She sounded so forlorn he couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course not, but perhaps tonight is not the time-”

It was a marvel she managed to surprise him, leveraging herself upwards and yanking his face down to hers in a wild, rough kiss. When she finally broke away for air they were both panting.

“I don’t know how much time I have left, Ezra.”

“An uncharitable blow, starshine.”

“Please.”

Well, who was he to deny a woman who begged so sweetly?

“I have a surprise for you.”

She blinked up at him wearily, a confused frown on her face before she answered. “What?”

“A surprise,” he whipped the blanket from over her, smiling at the adorable bundle of fleece and sweaters she was wrapped in beneath. “Are you cold?”

“Poor circulation,” she mumbled as she slowly sat up, rubbing a hand across her eyes. “Side effect of - you know. What do you mean a surprise?”

Letting his smile slip he sat at the edge of the couch, settling his hand on her knee. “How are you feeling?”

“Cold, a little out of breath. Pretty normal stuff all things considered. What surprise?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now would it?” He jumped to his feet, yanking a sweater from a nearby chair and holding it out to her. “Here, I don’t want you to be cold.”

“Ezra, why are you bleeding?”

He glanced down at his arm, at the thin tendrils of synthetic red liquid that rose from a series of scratches that ran the length of his forearm. “No reason, come on.”

She caught his hand but he quickly shook her off, bustling her into the sweater and out her door. One of her neighbors had set out candles for Name Day and he carefully steered her around them.

“If I can’t ask why you’re bleeding can I ask why you have a black eye?”

“You may not,” he responded cheerily.

“Ezra…”

He pulled her close to his side and navigated her out of the alley. “I must ask that you hold your queries until the end of the day, starshine. All will be revealed in time.”

A soft huff escaped her but she didn’t say anything, letting him lead her through the underbelly of the city and to a building they both knew far too well.

“Ezra it’s not the right day,” she told him as he led her to a side entrance.

“You are correct.” He pulled the door open and ushered her inside. A long hallway stretched in front of them and Ezra walked down it with confidence until he found the office he was looking for. A man was sitting behind the desk, his grey lab coat marred by a spot of blood and a drawn look on his face.

“Is this the patient?”

“It is,” Ezra responded as he sat her in a chair. “And you have the item?”

“They’re not easy to find, you know. I had to forge about ninety seven different manifests.”

“Ezra…” she whispered, eyes wide, but he cut her off with a squeeze to her shoulder.

“And will that complicate matters?”

The doctor steepled his fingertips above the desk and sighed. “It won’t.”

“Good, good.” Ezra was pacing behind her, darting glances around the room and flexing his prosthetic arm as though worried it might remember its origins in a room nearby. “So you can begin?”

“My family?”

“Safe,” his smile had a hard edge and he didn’t try to hide the knife at his belt. “For now.”

“Then let’s get this done.”

The doctor rose and she rose with him, a look of concern marring her perfect features. “What have you-?”

“If harm befalls her,” Ezra threatened softly, grabbing a fistful of the doctor’s coat, “you know what will happen?”

The doctor gave him a curt nod and Ezra let him go. Waiting a moment he finally turned back to her. To his lover, his starshine…

His everything.

“What is happening?”

“A Name Day miracle, for all intents and purposes.” She seemed confused and he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. “I might have performed a few dastardly deeds to move your case to the front of the line.”

“Oh Ezra, you didn’t-”

“Hush,” he kissed her once more. “I would do it again a thousand times over for you.”

“But what about after, Ezra? What happens to you?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “I suppose I will need to find myself a new place to live, perhaps outside of where the law might reach. I don’t suppose you would want to come with me?”

For all his bravado he was shocked when she nodded, and even more so when she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead to his. “After you’ve done this for me? I would follow you anywhere, Ezra.”

“Sweet starshine,” he held her to him tightly for a moment before releasing her and stepping away, “you need to go and get your new heart.”

“You’ll be here when I’m done?”

He pulled her hand into his, pressing a kiss to the back. “I promise.”

“Cross your heart?”

With a smile he rubbed his lips on the blank spot where her finger once sat before letting her go. “Of course. But I must warn you, mine hasn’t been my own to promise for some time now.”

For updates on stories please follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

Tagging in Adira once more. I hope you enjoyed your Ezra Holiday treat. @oonajaeadira

[euterpessi]

Romance Manhwa/Manga Recommendations:

Historical Manhwa/Manga:

Death Is The Only Ending For The Villainess

I’ve reincarnated as the reverse harem game’s villainess, the one and only adopted daughter of the ducal Eckart family.

But the difficulty just has to be the worst!

Everything I do will only lead me to death.

I must be paired with one of the main male characters from the heroine’s harem before the ‘real daughter’ of the duke family appears!

Two older brothers who always pick a fight with me on every little thing.

The insane crown prince whose route will always lead to my death.

‘I only see the heroine and no one else’s wizard, and also her loyal slave knight, too!

‘First, let’s take some of them which I see no hope in, out of the list!’

“I didn’t know my place up until now. From now on, I’ll live as quiet as a mouse so you wouldn’t care the slightest bit!

But why do their interests in me keep on rising every time I draw the line?!

The Villainess is a Marionette

Cayena, the Imperial Princess, was known as the most beautiful woman in the Empire. She was a woman who knew nothing but evil and luxury.

However, she was destined for ruin: she would be used as a chess piece by her younger brother to secure his throne and killed by her crazy husband.

“I’ll make you the Emperor.”

“… Sister, are you referring to me?”

“In exchange, give me freedom.”

She had to change things before she became that Cayena.

The Reason Why Raeliana Ended Up At The Duke’S Mansion

Poisoned to death by her own betrothed?! Eunha didn’t wake up in a novel’s story just to get killed off again as an unfortunate extra! To change her story she needs a cover… 6 months pretending to be the fake fiancée of the novel’s male protagonist, Duke Noah Wynknight. But will this cold-hearted, angel-faced demon of a man really help her avoid another ill-fated ending?!

Your Throne / I Want to Be You, Just For A Day

The story follows main characters Medea Solon and Psyche Callista, who become archenemies after competing for the position of crown princess of the Vasilios Empire. On the day of the Yearly Prayer, Medea and Psyche accidentally switch bodies.

The Remarried Empress

Navier was the perfect empress, however, the Emperor wanted a wife, not a colleague. And so, the Emperor abandoned Empress Navier and placed an enslaved girl beside him. That was fine until Navier heard the Emperor promise the slave the Empress’ position. After many ups and downs, Navier decided she would accept being the Queen of the neighbouring country and remarry.

Kill The Villainess

Eris Mizerian was the villainess of a novel. The only daughter of a marquis, she got executed after scheming against the pure and lovely protagonist, Helena. My only goal, after possessing her, is simply to leave this world and go home. I am prepared to face even death, but the laws of this world keep stopping me.

A changed Eris begins to draw the attention of three men who once loathed her; the Crown Prince, the High Priest, and the Knight.

"It doesn't matter. I will never be able to love this world."

Even if the only way out is death,

even if the only way out is make a deal with a witch...

I will absolutely leave this world!

This is the story of the villainess who defies fate, Eris, and her escape from this world!

The Way To Protect The Female Lead's Older Brother

I accidentally took possession of someone in a 19+ reverse harem novel.

The problem is that I became Roxana Agriche, the older sister of the sub-villain. My damn father kidnapped the heroine’s brother. Now, is the only thing left to meet a terrible end from the vengeance of the heroine?

But what if I can avoid that horrible development?

“I’m also interested in this toy.”

“I’ll protect you until you can get out of here safely.”

The heroine’s brother, Cassis Pedalian, will definitely be able to pay me back later.

Shadow Queen

“Can you be my daughter for me?”

By his offer, Elena became Duke of Franceschi’s fake daughter.

She became the queen and gave birth to Crown Prince’s son.

Then suddenly, Princess Veronica who was assumed dead came back.

She was only just a toy.

But eventually, Elena gets her son taken and is murdered.

However, she went back to the past.

“I’ll destroy all of you.”

I’ll never live as a toy again.

Elena decides to seeks revenge.

Under the Oak Tree

The daughter of a duke, the stuttering Maximilian, married a knight of lowly status at her father’s coercion.

After their first night, her husband departed for an expedition without another word.

He comes back three years later, this time as a famous knight in the whole continent.

How would Maximilian face him on his return?

"The more I think of you, the more lonely and lonely I become. I don't know why I can't quit even though it's so painful."

I'm Stanning The Prince

Angela’s fanfic became such a sensation that it even reached the Imperial Family, leading her to get arrested on charges of treason. Nevertheless, her fanfic improved the First Prince’s image, and his sister, the Princess, decides to take political advantage of this and keep Angela by their side. 

The heroine who can now fangirl to her heart’s content, and the Prince who doesn’t know how to act around her. As they bicker back and forth, they start growing closer…

Miss Not-So Sidekick

Hyejung loved to read to escape her daily stress. But that’s before she woke up inside the bizarre world of her favorite novel! Instead of the main heroine who courts three eligible men, she is now Latte Ectrie – a minor villain that everyone hates?! One way or another, it’s a chance to live out her most beloved storyline, with popcorn in hand to watch all the drama! Taking charge of the narrative takes on a whole new meaning!

Even Though I’M The Villainess, I’ll Become The Heroine!

I wasn’t able to overcome the harassment and took my life, but I was reincarnated with the perpetrator? The perpetrator is the heroine, Florre, and I am the villainess, Dahlia, who’s going to die horribly.

“They said you are a villain with neither blood nor tears, but unlike the rumors, you often shed tears.”

“Your Highness must believe all the nonsense the idiots are talking about, huh?”

Grand Duke of Cervian, the half brother of the Male lead and who will be punished for treason afterwards. He approached me. I can’t lose the man who will be my greatest ally.

“Your Highness, would you marry me?”

“Now…… what did you say?”

“And take revenge together.”

A similar situation, a fixed ending. The heroine is not the only one who knows the ending of the novel. I took a long and arduous path of revenge.

Who Made Me A Princess

The beautiful Athanasia was killed at the hands of her own biological father, Claude de Alger Obelia, the cold-blooded emperor! It’s just a silly bedtime story… until one woman wakes up to suddenly find she’s become that unfortunate princess! She needs a plan to survive her doomed fate, and time is running out. Will she go with Plan A, live as quietly as possible without being noticed by the infamous emperor? Plan B, collect enough money to escape the palace? Or will she be stuck with Plan C, sweet-talking her way into her father’s good graces?!

The Villainess Reverses the Hourglass

With the marriage of her prostitute mother to the Count, Aria’s status in society skyrocketed immediately. After leading a life of luxury, Aria unfairly meets death because of her sister Mielle’s schemes. And right before she dies, she sees an hourglass fall as if it were a fantasy. And just like that, she was miraculously brought back to the past.

“I want to become a very elegant person, just like my sister, Mielle.”

In order to face the villainess, she must become an even more wicked villainess. This was the new path Aria chose to take revenge on Mielle who murdered both her and her mother.

The Evil Lady's Hero

Junipe Magnolia, a villainess friend of the heroine in this novel called Rael Cania.

The Junipe inside the novel has always loved the male lead, Iseed. To the point where she harassed Rael out of jealousy because she's loved by Iseed.

And thus, Junipe is destinied to die in the hands of the male lead of this novel.

But one day.

"Why did I become Junipe?!"

But let's think about it, it's still one year away from the time Junipe is going to get killed by Iseed. So, I have to meet Iseed and Rael first, I'll be able to find a way out of my death if I do so.

Yeah, let's meet them first!

But, this man is just so tender-hearted and kind. Would Junipe be able to escape from this man?!

I Tamed a Tyrant and Ran Away

God gave me a chance to relive my life. Before the rebirth, I had been used for the past 400 years as the empire's sword. And so, I swore to destroy the empire. I found the young prince of the country and became his teacher. I taught him how to become a tyrant and asked for the country.

"I will do the lady's will."

He conquered the whole empire for me, and I ran away.

"I came to take you, Charlize Ronan." Dylan became a perfect tyrant and searched the entire empire for me.

"You tamed me, so why did you run away?"

Untouchable Lady

“Please, Hilise. Please die in place of Gabrielle.” My always dignified brother begged me for the first time. He wants me to die for our stepsister, whom we don't even share a drop of blood with. “For the first and last time, I ask you this.” I've always been miserable, and there is no exception this time. The seventh time that I was betrayed and killed, I was completely free of lingering feelings. “I'm glad that you're a scumbag until the end.” I won't be swayed by love anymore. It's my turn to abandon them first.

I’ll Live On As A Villainess

I reincarnated as the villainess in a book!

The one who dared to commit attempted murder on the heroine is the owner of this body?

Let's just live in a quiet place where we have fun and eat! That's what I thought for a while.

It was so, so, so cold here in the north, where I was kicked out as a punishment.

Before I froze to death, I called the Great Demon of Fire and set fire to the fireplace but...

Why isn't he going back? If you've done the job, shouldn't you go back?!

I was flustered to find out that I had signed a life contract with a demon just to start a fire but to think that I'd be responsible for relieving his desires!

The bickering romance between a big puppy demon and a small villainess lady!

It Looks Like I’Ve Fallen Into The World Of A Reverse Harem Game

When I opened my eyes, I was in a different world. I had become the game’s villainous princess who was feared by all. Not to mention… Completely naked men I didn’t even know were approaching me left and right! “Are you cold? Shall I warm you up with a hug?” “Oh? Have you not had enough yet?” Seriously, what’s up with this situation? And just how the hell am I going to get out of this freaking game?!

Father, I Don't Want to Get Married!

I’m Jubelian? The daughter of the duke and the villainess of this novel?

I managed to avoid my death with some previous knowledge about my life, as this was my second time at it. Now, I should be able to live a peaceful life!

“I’m not going to marry a man unless he has everything. I want the most wealthy, famous, and competent man there is.”

I dreamt of a glamorous life as the daughter of the duke, but my father tells me the Crown Prince who is known to be a lunatic is to be my husband! As an extraordinary measure, I couldn’t help but start a contract relationship. That is, with a handsome side character that looks better than the main one.

“Why are you trying to avoid being engaged to the prince?”

“He’s scary. I heard that he even kills his own entourage if he doesn’t like them.”

A few days later, the prince sent a terrible letter to me.

“I will not kill you.”

Oh no, did I set up another death trap for myself?

Like A Wind On A Dry Branch

"Hi, You."

Count Casarius fell victim to a plague and died suddenly, leaving behind a will stating that Rietta, his beautiful young widow of the manor, whom he tried to use as a concubine, be buried alive alongside him. Just before Rietta is buried, Archduke Axias, rumored to be a cruel tyrant, arrives at the funeral to collect the enormous debt Count Casarius still owes him.

“Everyone here seems to feel sorry for her, and I still have a debt to collect from Casarius… If I take her instead of debt, I think all of you here should be happy," he smiled.

"Hello, Temptress."

Everything was a Mistake

Roa Valrose reincarnated as villainess in the book. In order to avoid the fate of being burned at the stake, she approaches the hero, Nocton Edgar.

It hurts every time she gets closer to him. Nevertheless, for her survival, she does everything he wants her to do.

“Come again, Valrose.”

The mysterious Nocton unexpectedly sought her out every day.

Then one day, her friend for 10 years says something unknown to her.

“Actually, I have a dream. The Duke of Edgar is a terrible villain!”

He is not the hero, but the villain?

As soon as she realized that she had misinterpreted the role, she decided to get away from Nocton.

“Let’s not meet anymore.”

But the villain’s reaction was strange.

“Don’t go. You’ve always been special to me.”

She was suspicious of his sudden change of attitude.

Will she able to get rid of Nocton safely?

I Became the Tyrant's Secretary

I became the secretary of a tyrant in place of my clumsy brother to survive.

But I have so much potential for it. I’m so darn good at my job. Because I served the tyrant so well, ‘Everyone has a happy ending’.

Well then, shall I quit being a secretary and live a leisurely life now?

“Rosaline, tell me what you want.” He asked as he stepped down from his chair.

“I want to quit.”

His eyebrows twitched slightly.

“Do you want to die?”

Your highness, you never hold on to people who want to leave, so why’re you being like this to me?

Seduce the Villainess Father

After being in a bus crash, I woke up to the world of my favourite web novel.

Not only that, It was before the protagonists were born, to their parents’ world!

To stop the incoming multiple bad events.

I tried to prevent the kidnapping of the sister who is pregnant with the female lead!

But I got kidnapped instead?!

It's depressing to be kidnapped, but my body couldn't handle the mana and became a sunfish-like state

But... if I am next to the emperor who kidnapped me, my body becomes normal!

Right! The way to save that man from marrying a witch and getting killed by his son, and for someone who is vulnerable to mana such as myself to live, is for us to get married!

The Villains Savior

Set on a path to tragedy and misfortune from a young age, Aseph Randell is doomed to die a villain. That is, until the mysterious Elzay Tiathe appears in his life with a promise: "I can save you." After having vivid visions of him for so long, can Elzay untangle the twisted fate tied to Aseph... or will they both be dragged down together?

Contemporary Manhwa/Manga:

Night Crying Crow

This woman; who is she?

If something was action, it'd be action. If something was romance, it’d be romance. The A-list actor Cheon Woo Kang, who's great at every (genre), had his heart stolen away by an unknown woman who’d broken into his house!

“We'll meet again.~"

Woo Kang contracted an over imaginative illness as he drew the woman, whose name he didn't even know. In front of Woo Kang, she reappeared as the police officer Park Tae... Could the shadow of the crisis that appeared in front of them be a coincidence?

Raise wa Tanin ga Ii

Yoshino Somei would have been a normal high-schooler if not for the fact that she is the granddaughter of the leader of the Osaka-based Somei Group, the Kansai region's largest yakuza organization. One day, Yoshino hurries home after hearing of the news about the unification of Kansai and Kanto's biggest syndicates, the Somei and the Miyama groups. This, according to the article, will result in a marriage of the leaders' grandchildren—one of whom is Yoshino herself! Despite her best efforts to annul the arrangement, Yoshino has to go to Tokyo to visit her fiancé, Kirishima Miyama, who is unexpectedly nice and charming.

During their first meeting, Yoshino is swept up in various events and becomes unable to refuse moving to Tokyo, which is why, half a year later, she now lives with the Miyama group. At school, she soon realizes that Kirishima is very popular, so her relationship with him garners the hate of his fangirls and subsequently results in bullying. To make matters worse, Kirishima could not be further away from her prince charming since he, after all, was born to be a yakuza member.

Raise wa Tanin ga Ii follows Yoshino and her new life in Tokyo that is filled with nothing but troubles connected to the underworld. However, though she wishes to be as far from it as possible, this isn't Yoshino's first time dealing with the world of the Yakuza...

Positively Yours

To Hee-won’s dismay, the BFF she crushed on and her other BFF are now dating! Seriously bummed, Hee-won decides to go wild just one time, and find solace with a handsome stranger. A very satisfying one night affair has now turned into more — she’s pregnant! Fate brings them together again, and now the regimented Doo-joon is determined to do the right thing and marry her. But they’re basically strangers! Except... their bodies have been very intimately acquainted. What’s this mother-to-be to do?

True Beauty

After binge-watching beauty videos online, a shy comic book fan masters the art of makeup and sees her social standing skyrocket as she becomes her school’s prettiest pretty girl overnight. But will her elite status be short-lived? How long can she keep her real self a secret? And what about that cute boy who knows her secret?

Cheese In the Trap

Hong Sul is a ordinary college student. Yoo Jung is the school's most popular upperclass man. He's good looking, rich, smart, and even nice. However, Hong Sul thinks there's more to Yoo Jung than what meets the eye…

SPY x FAMILY

The master spy codenamed has spent his days on undercover missions, all for the dream of a better world. But one day, he receives a particularly difficult new order from command. For his mission, he must form a temporary family and start a new life?! A Spy/Action/Comedy about a one-of-a-kind family!

Doppio Senso (18+)

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about a guy.”

KyungHyun stopped in the middle of a deep kiss and sighed. His lips began to form a smile, but his fierce glare said otherwise. Possessiveness and jealousy spread across his sculpted face.

“Will you tell me his name?”

His easygoing and languid voice reached her ears.

“Why?”

“So that I can shoot him down.”

[airplanned]

All the Trashy Novels Part 29

It’s a long one, because it’s the smutty climax.

Part 1...Part 28

***

Link pulled his horse to the side of the road as they were riding past the wetlands, right before the fork away from Zora's Domain.  She stopped and waited impatiently as he crouched down in the tall grass and snuck towards the water.  What was he doing?  It was impossible to tell with him.

A minute later, he shouted, "Ha!" and stood up with his hands cupped together.  He came up to her horse, lifted his hands for her to see, and uncupped them.  Inside was a dragonfly.

"Oh!"  She slipped off her horse to bow her head over the cave of his hands and peer inside.  When it launched itself upward, she meeped and jumped back, laughing and pressing a hand to her chest as it darted off.  At some point she had taken hold of Link's wrist.

He smiled at her and shifted, twisting their hands until hers was locked in his, and then pulling her off the road and towards the water.  He caught her another dragonfly, and she caught him a frog, explaining its medicinal properties and how one day she would use it to run experiments on him.

"You're already running experiments on me," he said.

"No.  You are assisting as I run experiments on myself."

"What experiments will you run first?"

"I need more data points.  Duration and intensity of the glowing.  I need a survey of the other factors that may be involved before devising a more strenuous set of experiments."

His mouth quirked, as if he were trying not to laugh at her.

She shoved him into the shallow water.  

A second later, he'd grabbed her around the middle and pulled her down with him, and splashing and spluttering, she'd had to fight her way to sitting.  He grinned at her, and she covered his face with her hand.  He took the opportunity to lick her palm, and she shrieked and ranted about how gross he was all the way to the citadel.

There they stopped for the night: one last night sleeping in a bed in exchange for playing princess as the general gave a guided tour and then hosted them at dinner.  But the tour turned out to be much more interesting than she'd expected.  A team of Sheikah had brought in a handful of guardians with the intention of adding them to the citadel's defenses.  They were a bit behind those from the Royal Tech Lab, and had to be aimed manually, but they still outstripped the cannons.  The general and the Sheikah soaked up every word she said, and soon she was gesturing wildly with her arm half inside a guardian, her face streaked with grease.

"The general's in love with you," Link whispered as he walked her to her room.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Everyone here's in love with you."

"No, they're not.  They're just too far removed from the castle and haven't heard the terrible gossip about me yet."

"Okay, but if you ever need a fake Akkalan boyfriend, I bet he'd volunteer."

"I do not require a fake Akkalan boyfriend."  She paused at her door.  "How is your fake townie girlfriend?"

"We broke up."

"Oh?"

"She didn't like that I was leaving town for so long.  And she didn't like that I was going with you.  She's very jealous of you."

"Well," Zelda said.  "She should be.  Everyone here is in love with me."

He nodded.

"Everyone at the castle will be disappointed."

"They'll get over it."

"What will you do the next time you get a bite mark on your neck?"

He lifted his eyebrows.

She lifted hers back.  Then she closed the doors behind her and went to bed, smirking.

They reached the Spring of Power late the next day.  As Link set up camp, Zelda ducked away to see the Goddess statue.  She didn't change into her prayer dress or step into the water.  She couldn't sort what she wanted into words that might reach the Goddess.  She was out of practice praying.  Instead, she bowed her head and clenched her hands before her, gathered all the worry and hope and pleading that tightened in her chest and mentally projected it into the heavens, hoping the Goddess would hear her.

Link gave her a cautious look as she returned.  She realized that she usually left her prayers feeling lost and worthless and small.  Link must have noticed.  He must be expecting more of the same.  But this time felt different.  It wasn't a gladness that she'd heard others describe, but maybe the hope and determination that had pushed her on for the past few days was bolstered by the Goddess.  Then again, maybe it was the absence of a sense of defeat.  She gave Link as honest of a smile a she could as she accepted the bowl he passed to her.

"I'm alright," she said.  "I'm going to figure this out."

"I know you will."  He said it so easily that it disarmed her. 

Because of the depression in the ground, the sun seemed to set earlier than usual.  They ate in silence, and she pretended the warmth on her face was from the fire. 

She snuck a few looks at him--his posture easy, the planes of his face lit orange in the light.  He was handsome.  She'd never thought about him that way before.

She blinked, handed back her bowl, and retreated to her tent.

She arranged everything to her liking. She had a comfortable bed roll and a number of blankets fit for a princess.  She had a soft glowing lantern and a pocket watch and the Sheikah Slate and a journal with a pencil.  She made sure the pencil was sharpened.  She changed into a shirt with fine embroidery around the collar and a softness that belayed wealth, but it was also far too big for her, fitting a bit like a sack that barely covered her rear.  She didn't wear anything else.

She was suddenly overwhelmed with nerves.  But she took a shaky breath and stuck her head out of her tent.  "I would like to run an experiment.  If--if you have a moment."

He looked up from the fire, his interest piqued, and she ducked back into her tent before he could see how badly she was blushing.  Once in her tent, she put on as much bluster as she could to hide her nerves, ordering him to remove his boots and his sword and his shirt.  She thought about asking him to remove his pants, but that seemed a bit pushy.  Maybe she needed to be pushy?  "And your pants," she said.  "But your undergarments can remain."

She then had him lie on his side on her mat.  "You will observe and take notes," she explained, showing him were the pocket watch and journal were.  She tucked her hair behind her ears, lay down facing him, and hooked her leg over his hip.

He looked mildly surprised, but went along with it.  And that was weird, right?  This was weird.  She was taking advantage of how he couldn't deny her.  She was royalty and possibly the key to saving everything he knew from destruction.  Maybe should should find a way to--

"You're over-thinking it," he whispered.  He'd made himself comfortable, resting his head on his arm and a hand on the small of her back.

She huffed.  Then she closed her eyes and worked her hand down her body.

"Want me to help?"

"I don't want you to be too distracted to record your observations."

"Right.  Good.  Because this isn't distracting at all."

She pinched him with her free hand, and he laughed.  It was soft and low and she could feel his breath against her face.  It did more to arouse her than her own hand, which slid between her legs.

His hand moved to her bare hip, and once he did, she could feel how much she moved against him, how much her hips rocked.  He didn't try to control her rhythm or hold her still, and she found her movements growing even more animated as the pleasure built around her.  She bit her lip and breathed.  

His voice was soft like his laugh when he murmured, "What are you thinking about?"

"What you would say if you were talking to me."

"What would I say?"

"'That's it, Zelda. That's so good.'"

Not missing a beat, he said, "You're so good, Zelda.  The way you move, the way your whole body moves.  You're so emphatic.  In everything you do.  Your whole body moves when you talk.  And now, Goddess look at you, the way your shoulders move and your back arches."

Her shoulders rolled even more, her breath coming quick.

"Call me something sweet," she said.  In her head, he called her darling, and it wasn't quite right.  She always stumbled over it.  She couldn't hear it in his voice.

He leaned in to kiss under her ear, sending a shudder down her spine.  He whispered, "You're my peach."

She gasped, her hand picking up speed, a spike of pleasure rocking through her.    His hands wandered inside her shirt, down her leg.  Dizziness crept in around her edges.

"That's it.  That's it.  Let go.  I've got you."

He had her.  He would catch her when she fell.

"Look at me."

She tried twice to blink open her eyes, and when she finally managed, he was there, a heat in his eyes and adoration on his face.  The rhythm of her hand stuttered, and then his fingers had replaced hers, picking up the rhythm she'd set as he pulled her fingers into his mouth.  It all happened so fast that she thrust her fingers against his tongue a few times before realizing.  His eyes darkened and then rolled as he moaned and sucked greedily at her fingers.  The movements of his hand matched her own, except steady and sure when she faltered, when her body jerked, and her breath caught and caught and caught.  Link would catch her.  She threw her head back and grinned, riding every wave, letting herself fall.  She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss as she burned and burned and burned, still smiling against his mouth.

"Zelda?"

She blinked dreamily up at him, and there was a click as he snapped her picture with the slate.  He turned it around to show it to her. 

She was glowing.  Her whole body surrounded by a halo, her skin golden as if she had become the sun.  The picture smiled dreamily back at her.

"You've been glowing for two minutes and fifteen seconds and counting."

"You timed it?"

"Of course."

She beamed at him, and she could see from her hands on the slate that she was glowing more brightly.  Beams of sunlight radiated off her.  

She reached for Link's cheek and closed her eyes and reveled in the warmth in her chest, the shape of it, the pressure of it.  It was like...happiness?  A warmth of affection that had been there for a while, but had never before tapped into the power of her soul.  She hadn't let it.  She'd held it at bay.  She had pushed it aside to berate herself and turn her insecurities outward.  She'd thought the Goddess was spiteful, but the Goddess was love, and she rewarded those who loved.  To protect her country, she first needed to love it.

"Link?"

"Yeah?" He brushed hair from her face.

"I don't hate you."

"You sure?  That was a little fun."

"Only a little?"

"This is better."

She laughed and dragged him in to kiss her as she glowed.

***

Part 30

[midnightsconspiracy]

Blame

Blame - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: Having a baby without telling their father was hard, what was harder was when that baby’s father was Hank Voight

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1900

Requested: Yes!!

‘Hank and the reader had a small fling 2 years ago Hank called it off but what happens when he finds out that the reader son isn’t just hers but his as well.’

A/N: It doesn't really follow the timeline of the requests 2 years, but it's along those lines anyway :):)

Masterlist

Yours and Hank's relationship had seemed perfect at first, well to you anyway. Nothing seemed as though it was out of the ordinary until the man had unexpectedly broken it off.

It had originally started when you had first met him on a case. Originally, you had attended a police scene after his unit had called for a paramedic crew, the sergeant in question having hit the offender a little too hard. Your partner was assigned to look at the perpetrator's wounds, him having come out of that scuffle worst for wear, you on the other hand were sent to look at Voight's beat-up hand. Admittedly, you were a little wary at first, having heard of his tough reputation through the firehouse. But he seemed to be kind to you anyways, and so you ignored those rumours, choosing to decide for yourself instead. And so your relationship grew from there, secretly spending most of your free nights at his place, learning to trust each other implicitly.

As time went on, the two of your learnt to love each other, both scarred from the outcome of previous relationships. Your days were filled with shy smiles from the texts you'd send to each other, and nights with the feeling of one another. Everything had seemed perfect at the time, blissfully unaware of what he was feeling. Yes, he did love you, but the insecurities and comments were eating away at him. Each day he would come into work or go out to his local gentlemen's club and receive judgments on your relationship, about how you were much younger or better looking than him. He took most of the comments to heart despite you telling him otherwise, but who was he going to believe, over 10 of his closest friends and colleagues or his girlfriend? Eventually, he chose his answer, breaking it off before you could object otherwise.

Distraught was the only word that you could use to describe yourself. You were absolutely heartbroken knowing someone you believed loved you threw it all away because of the opinions of others. Not only were you emotionally broken but also physically, feeling like absolute crap, constantly throwing your guts up and in an ever-changing mood. At first, you just blamed it on the stress you were facing, the breakup had been rough and you'd tried your best to change his mind. But it continued on day by day even after you'd accepted what had happened. Confiding in Sylvie about your problems, she seemed worried for you, urging you to go to the doctors for advice. Although you were apprehensive at first, you followed her instructions, seeking Natalie out to check you over.

You played with your hands nervously as you waited for her to come back with the results of the blood tests. At first, you just thought it was the flu, but after each symptom of yours she checked off her list, your mind knew where this was all going. And so as she confirmed what you were thinking, you froze, tears springing to your eyes not knowing what would happen to you or your baby.

That day you had made one of the most important decisions of your life, you would move back home to Virginia and raise the baby with only the help of your family. And so that's what you did, packing your things up into a moving van, putting your apartment for sale and driving to your new home. It was a little challenging at first to adjust to your new life, you missed your friends overwhelmingly having spent nearly every day of the last five years within the walls of that firehouse. But, you knew you had to move on though, probably never going back to Chicago to allow your child a better life. It had crossed your mind once or twice that maybe Hank would want to know about this, be a part of their life, but you just couldn't chance it. He had let you go over the opinions of others so what would stop him from doing similar with this child? You couldn't take that risk though, so as soon as any thought of him would appear, it would disappear soon after.

It was a struggle being a single parent, going through each trimester of your pregnancy alone. Sometimes you wished he would go through the milestones with you, the first sign of a baby bump, the first kick. And you had your family there with you too, but it was never the same as someone you loved. The worst was when you gave birth, all alone, with no one to hold your hand as you experienced the worst pain of your entire life. However, it had led to the best thing, your son, Jackson. Your life had changed overnight, now you not only lived for yourself but also your son.

As he grew up your happiness also increased, loving life just you and your child. Most of the time it was perfect laughing and playing but others you wanted Hank to be there, helping you out with the hard moments. Things with your family worsened as Jackson grew as well, things becoming rocky as they helped you less and less. And so just after you celebrated your sons third birthday, you decided maybe Chicago wasn't so bad. You could reunite with your friends, have some help with Jackson and potentially get your job back at the firehouse. So that's what you did, once again packing your stuff up and moving the both of you into a shared apartment with Sylvie, your rock in all of this.

Your life had suddenly gone back to normal overnight, picking up your career as a paramedic at 51 whilst you got a babysitter from Jackson. The only people that were aware of your presence were those at the firehouse, trying to keep your return in house so as not to raise any unwanted attention. But that had all changed as you and Brett were once again called to a police crime scene. And your prayers weren't answered as you rolled up to one led by intelligence.

As soon as you exited the ambulance you were faced with the entire team with two people needing assistance, the perpetrator and Hank. Sylvie gave you a knowing look as you grabbed the equipment, allowing you to take the bad guy. But as you walked towards the guy, Hank raised his voice, telling Sylvie he wouldn't be treated by her, wanting to talk to you instead. So you both complied, wandering over and grabbing Hank's head to assess his injuries, not wanting to even look him in the eye. You tried to wrap things up as quickly as you could, refusing to talk to him at all.

"You're back," he stated bluntly, needing to know your reasoning behind leaving in the first place. But you wouldn't give him the pleasure, fixing medical tape onto his wound, before packing up your stuff and hightailing it back into the ambulance. Although you were done with him, he definitely wasn't done with you, having heard some interesting rumours about your departure.

Finding out your new address, Hank made it his mission to see you, to explain what he was thinking. Knocking on the door of your apartment, he wished to see your face, having missed you the four years you had been gone. Just after you had moved your life to Virginia, Hank had a revelation, kicking himself for letting go of someone he loved so much. But instead of meeting your beautiful face, he found some random woman, being informed that you no longer lived there. He had been left distraught, leading to months of emotional instability, bottling it up, only to explode with anger and sadness after too long. But now as you opened the door, he smiled, glad that it was actually you this time.

"Why are you here?" You asked, wedging your body between the door and its frame, not wanting him to spot your child who was happily playing inside.

"I wanted to see you, I missed you," he confessed, wary at your suspicious behaviour.

"Missed me? You broke-"

"Mommy?" Being cut off from your angry rant, your eyes widened at the sound of your son, knowing you would have to reveal him to his father. Picking your toddler up, you tried to close the door, hoping to defuse the situation. Unlucky for you, Hank stopped the door from closing, pushing inside of your apartment.

"Mommy huh?" He questioned, confused at how you had a child.

"What's your name buddy?"

"Jackson," your son replied, blissfully unaware of who this man was and what havoc he was causing.

"And how old are you?" The cogs were turning in Hanks mind, could this child be his?

"I just turned three!" The exclamation from the child, confirmed it all, he was this boys father and you hadn't told him. Straightening up he looked you in the eyes, an angry look on his face.

"Hey, buddy why don't you play in your bedroom?" And with that, you brought your son back into his room, closing the door behind you.

"He's mine isn't he?" Hank questioned that eerily quiet voice piercing your ears. Yes, you hadn't told him, but it was to protect you and your son! Not trusting your voice you nodded your head, giving him the confirmation he needed.

"And you didn't think to tell me?" He roared, his anger overflowing, grabbing your arms to get you to look at him.

"It was to protect him, if you could easily get rid of me, what was stopping you from getting rid of him too?" You cried, knowing what you did was wrong.

"And you didn't think I could make that chose myself?" You could see the tears in the man's eyes, his voice crackling as he realised this was as much his fault as it was yours. You had made the choice but he was ultimately to blame. Bringing you into his arms, you both cried, equally regretting your decisions. Looking back up at him, your feeling flooded back, remembering how much you really loved this man. And so at that moment, you decided that Hank should be part of your boy's life, Jackson was as much his as he was yours.

So that evening was spent introducing the pair, watching as they got along like a house on fire. Hank's experience raising a child previously meant he knew how to please a child, allowing them to bond as father and son. Every time he looked at you, your original feelings intensified, understanding why you had originally thought that he would make a great father. In Hanks mind he was feeling overwhelming joy, the last few years had been so tough for him and this, this was all he could ever want. He had loved Justin with all his heart, but since he had died a black void had overtaken his heart. His grandson had briefly filled it, but that had been taken away again as they left as well. Finally, he had something that could fill this hole, a woman he loved infinitely and had made the biggest mistake of his life by letting her go. And a son, that he would hopefully watch grew up day by day, as a nice, happy family.

----------

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[marshmallowprotection]

Saeran’s Diary

Spoilers for Saeran’s Diary. It’s within the Special Believer package. Not all of the pages are here. I’ve compiled the ones that looked the most note-worthy to talk about but I will summaries and talk about everything in this post. 

Okay, so Spoilers Ahead, read at your own caution. It’s Spoilers for Another Story, V Route, Ray Route, and the After Ending. 

Saeran introduces himself to the diary even though he has no idea how to use one of these. Saeyoung got it from the Cathedral. His brother tells him that if he can’t think of anything to write, he could draw instead. Saeran spends a lot of his time drawing out things on the pages just as much as he spends talking about this or that. His handwriting is rather clumsy and messy, much more so than what a child his age would have. 

However, he’s not in school and he’s roughly only been able to learn a few rudimentary things thanks to his brother. 

Saeyoung spends a lot of time at the cathedral. He’s been taking countless notes in his books. He’s literally been coping things to learn from the books that he can get his hands on. He’s got four of them, as far as Saeran knows. He has some of Saeyoung’s notes in his journal because he asked him what he was writing about all the time. He’s perplexed, saying that those coding notes look like they’re... 

Puzzles? 

He doesn’t know. 

Saeyoung takes him out for ice cream, and we can assume that’s when they made the promise on their ice cream to always be there for each other, knowing that there will be one day that they can escape together. You know, the one from Ray Route where we’re treated to their promise on twin-popsicles. It seems like Saeran is alone more and more often though. He’s spending so much time at the church.

There’s one day where he and Saeyoung are out that someone suspicious sees the two of them. Saeyoung gets them out of dodge, but it continues to haunt his mind for a while. He draws something really stark imagery. Then, Saeyoung is all of a sudden gone. He’s gone. Their mother demands that he find him but he cannot find him. He’s panicking. He thinks that maybe that man took his twin away and he may never come back. 

He’s so alone. 

He’s so scared. 

He’s begging for someone to come and get him. He’s still fairly young here and out of sorts, but his emotions are rapidly increasing the longer that he’s alone in that house. Until one day, something changes. 

V and Rika come to take him to the cathedral more and more often. He’s spending a good amount of his time there because the two of them managed to convince Mother Choi that it was a good idea. Saeran has no idea how they did it or why they did it. He just knows that this is the place that Saeyoung went to once and that maybe he’ll be able to find him there? Then he talks about how he may be able to find him. Twin’s intuition? 

That plays into the theme of the After Ending. How Saeran and Saeyoung can seemingly feel the other is alive, or that they’re okay. I think that’s kind of a really sweet thing to tie in like that. It’s like they’re connected when they’re not actually connected, and I don’t know if I’ll ever understand that connection since I’m not a twin but it stands out to me since Saeran is so hopeful for his brother again. 

He spends more time in the sun and it feels good. He wishes Saeyoung was here. It’d be nice if they could live somewhere nice like this... where he could see the sun all the time. V said to him that Saeyoung was okay, he had a strong feeling about it. Saeran doesn’t know how to feel about that. He thinks it’s okay but... he wishes that Saeyoung would find him first. He’s him and I’m him, that’s what he says. 

So, can’t they reach for one another...? 

Saeran starts to spend all his time going to classes and learning things at the cathedral. He’s learning how to focus on his work, how to bake, and how to get his head in the right place for things that he’s enjoy. Like, for example, he talks about how his plan for the future would be to have an ice cream store not far from his house as he stays with Saeyoung. He really writes down recipes and his trial and errors. It’s so cute. 

V gifts him a book about flowers and a good chunk of his diary is spent talking about them. He lists his favorites and some that stand out to him. There’s a photo that V took of him in the garden that you’ve likely seen before as he holds tightly to them with a smile. He talks about the life cycle of flowers as he tries to figure them out. He’s really thoughtful and spends an awful amount of time trying to learn how something so little makes something so big! 

I did not know that Rika and V had their own flowers. I’ve talked about these bookmarks before for Saeran and Saeyoung. 

Geranium can be a wish for good health, hope that you pray that the other person will someday feel better and find peace. It makes sense that that is for Saeran because he was a young and sickly child for such a very long time, and this was a gift that said, we pray for you and you will grow to be a bigger flower in due time. You will not wilt and you will grow until you blossom into something that is lovely. 

Rhododendron can be a sign of optimism, the hope that you have that the future ahead will be great. It makes sense that that was gifted to Saeyoung because he is the one that hinges on the hope that one day, he can save his brother and be sure that they are both free from their chains that have kept them down. This is a gift that says, never lose hope in yourself and those that you love when it feels like the end of coming. 

Narcissus means rebirth and renewal because it's one of the earliest bulbs to sprout. We all know the story. Unable to look away from the water, Narcissus grew tired, fell into the stream, and drowned. Rika’s suicide is implied to be her falling from the edge of a cliffside and falling into the water down below. It’s their way of symbolism her final rebirth into someone finally relishing in her cruelty and devil to it’s fullest form. 

Another popular story in mythology, Rhodanthe was someone so beautiful that people wouldn’t leave her alone. They were always at her heels and begging for her love. She turned them all down and grew so tired of them that she retreated and ran away to the Temple of Diana. Those suitors just wouldn’t quit, though, and because of that Diana decided to turn Rhodanthe in a rose and all of the suitors into the thorns of the flower. The implication here is that V and Rika are twisted together in a dangerous path, but it’s hard to tell who is the rose and who is the thorns here. Interesting. 

Here we go, huh? Rika gifts Saeran a book that she claims is the same one that his brother was reading. Saeran wants to be closer to him so he starts to learn and study what he can. He knows that he hid Saeyoung’s books for him so he has to get those from the house and he wants to use them to know more about who his brother is. It’s kind of hard, even Saeran claims that he’s struggling in all of this learning because it’s so much!

But, he says he can do it. 

He’ll do it for Saeyoung. 

We know why Rika is doing this, and we know where this is heading but I’m kind of like: I really don’t want to see how tortured my boy is about to be by this damn woman again. I continue onward to see how Saeran progressively learns as much as humanly possible as fast as he can. Okay, oh boy, he writes that he snuck out late at night to go to cathedral and nobody is usually there, but Rika was there tonight. 

He was perplexed by why she was looking at the wall of photos that contained each child that attended the church and did their studies there. He says that it felt wrong. He felt like he couldn’t speak. Something felt twisted and wrong in his chest but he stayed. He’s not even spending a lot of time with V and Rika at the cathedral up until this point. They just check on him now and again... until now, Rika seems to be more forward. 

She’s been giving him extra lessons and things to do. 

“It looked like she wanted to tell me something.” 

She didn’t though. 

Here’s one continuity error, though. Saeran knows that his mother passed away and she even had a funeral in this diary. He said that nobody came. Not their father, not their brother, nobody. There was nobody in the world to come for his mother’s passing but him and V and Rika. It’s just him and Saeyoung. His twin isn’t there but this is his only family. His only family. He missed his brother. He wishes he was there. 

He knows that his mother is dead but he doesn’t know how she died. I’m bit confused on that front. I’ll go and glance at his speech during the AE to know if it’s an error or not. Okay, so, they imply that Mother Choi never got a proper funeral. I think that means that you know, the one that Saeran held as a child wasn’t a real one by any meaning. It’s just a small ceremony. 

I almost want to say that the fucking trauma of Mint Eye destroyed more and more of his memory as a young child because it implies also in this diary that he does talk to some of the others at the cathedral sometimes, but not often. 

So, it could be an error, or it’s literally that the specific memory of that time at the cathedral isn’t accessible to him. It makes sense, though. Ray and Suit held a lot of their own memories and it feels like there’s other pieces that they’re missing in their lives. It still doesn’t take away from the fact that Saeran didn’t know how she died. Or that Rika burned the house down with V. 

Or that they both hid the fucking body. 

This is just the one thing of interest in the diary that doesn’t make sense unless I apply my theory that he cannot remember that incident. Either way, he makes a prayer to God about Saeyoung on the page after that. He says that he wants to be strong. He wants to be as strong as Saeyoung. Let him have that. 

Rika tricks him not long after this. “Come and meet me late at night. I want to give V a surprise.” He’s noticed that the two of them have been having a really difficult time lately, he thought they weren’t on good terms since they weren’t visiting together. This is literally after the trauma of the murder, self-defense or not, they had to remove a body and worse. 

That added to how bad their relationship already was. This was Rika’s turning point, after all. Saeran’s a child. He just thinks they’re going to make up and get better? He wants to help them because they helped him. 

But this is a trick. 

He spoke to Rika that briefly and then he went home. Someone grabbed him, and before he could fight, he was taken off the streets. It wasn’t Rika, but my money says that it was someone working for her to do the dirty work. He has no clue it’s Rika or anything for a while. He’s locked in a dark room. There’s not a lot in it but it seems like it was prepared for someone to stay in it. He’s scared, they leave him there. He banged on the door over and over, but nobody would listen to him. 

Days pass. 

He’s left with some notes about Mint Eye to read that make no sense to him but he’s trying to understand what they mean. How long is he going to be stuck in a room like this? Nothing makes sense! He gets fed every day, and he thinks that is okay. 

He’s trapped but he has food. It’s not so bad.. right? 

Nobody came to see him until the fourth day. He was taken away to what we can presume is the basement. He doesn’t know what’s happening here, but he just stares, slack-jawed at Rika in the basement as he lifts his head. 

She’s wearing a mask.

But, there’s no doubt. 

It’s Rika. 

He begged for answers but she would barely tell him what was happening in this place. She just says that V is a traitor and a liar to him. She said that he should call her his Savior. By the 11th day, they’re literally drugging through the food as time passes. He says that things don’t taste right but I know what that means as it’s the easiest way to poison someone over time.

I imagine that this is slowly happening as they’re starting to torture him with the elixir outright not long after this. 

He’s clearly confused and losing time the more that he tries to think because these are written on snippets as he’s trying to make sense of what’s going on around him. He’s hurting. He’s in pain. Nothing makes sense and he’s having a hard time dealing with being awake and eating these days. It just gets worse and worse as time passes for him. 

I don’t think I have to explain what this looks like: 

He’s literally terrified out of his fucking mind. He’s not able to focus and this is a point in the timeline where Ray takes control of the situation. Saeran cannot be awake anymore and Ray wakes up. This child has suffered enough already and Ray needs to be here to do this. His anger... his confusion. It’s played out in front of us as he loses himself and Ray takes control of everything that’s going on from now on. 

This is where the scraps end and Ray’s official diary begins. 

Yeah, this is actually a portion of the diary that I’ve seen before. It’s that proof that Rika is the one that dressed Ray. He would prefer to wear dark things but she says that he’s not good enough. He feels gloomy, he would have preferred something gloomy but Rika said no. Her reasoning is that he’s not strong and he needs to wear something vibrant to feel stronger. 

To feel more needed. 

He isn’t sure how to feel about that. He just says that Savior knows best and this is okay. I love his outfit but I know that’s uneasy about it. His gloves are rather tight on his hands so they can keep him from overextending his fingers and not get them to lock or have fractures from working so hard. He’s typing at a speed that not even I can manage so. 

He needs the support. 

No gloves slander about Ray, I know they’re half-gloves and bother some of you but it suits him. And, not to gush about Ray but there’s just so much Ray in this portion of the diary and you know I’m a massive Ray fan. Rika forces hm to do all of the security work. He spends like a week trying to make the system better but he’s hardly sleeping to do it. He’s the one that made the card system, as well, for both Rika and for others. 

He’s the one that grants access to anyone that is a believer. 

Certain people have certain powers. Rika can go anywhere, he can go to some places, and others... limited access. She “gifts” him the often of being able to help design the garden. He does pick a handful of flowers that he thinks are nice to decorate the garden and it’s the one thing that actually makes him feel good in comparison to security hell.

Though, we start to see him planning for the RFA Messenger as well. That’s not looking really good. Rika tells him what they’re going to be doing and that they have a grand plan that she needs him for. He’s so desperate for someone to see him and give him affection that he’s willing to fall to her feet and cry. He doesn’t know if he deserves this chance. He beats himself up over and over about it but takes it. 

He can’t say no to Rika. 

He’s literally crying because she told him that she wants him to do something for her. I’m not a vicious person but if given the chance, I would slap Rika one good time. I just need one time. I realize violence doesn’t solve anything, but I don’t know if I could hold myself back if I saw her treating him like this. 

It’s just not okay and I can’t stand it. No matter how you feel about Rika, when you read and see shit like this, you get angry at her for what she’s done to this child. Saeran was a child. 

He was a child who trusted her and V. 

Goddammit. 

He was a CHILD. 

He’s sleeping three hours. Max. That’s not okay. He’s chugging caffeine pills like they’re Tic-Tacs. Ray, honey, baby, darling, they’re not Tic-Tacs. That’s not okay at all. It’s actually blotted out. I don’t know what he’s eating. I don’t know how many he’s eating. I knew that he was popping like them candy to stay up and at his desk, but Jesus Christ, Ray. The space implies that it’s a high number, it could be double-digits. 

If it’s more than 15, I don’t know what I’m going to do. 

He’s not even eating right. Food that’s easy to eat. Okay, that’s why he eats chocolate most of the time. He’s eating snack foods when he’s eating and only using real food if he has time. [He never has time. It makes me want to cry as I read it because I wanted to grab him by the wrist and ask him to stay during the meals because I don’t really eat more than what a toddler eats due to my health and he could have the rest. He needs it.]

I love this guy, but I can see his suffering here. 

I don’t know if you’ve seen this but he ranks the RFA on a sliding scale of how tough they are to defeat and how easy they are to defeat. Seven and V have the strongest list. V is to be captured alive and that you have to be cautious so he doesn’t trick you.

Seven is “No need. Discard.”

I have to ask Ray what the hell a “honey trap” is though, as far as Zen goes in his explaination. Does that mean that Ray is saying “If there’s a pretty honey, he’ll fall to his knees?” RAY? 

RAY????? 

RAY??????????????

Jumin: Attack social status. Just take his fucking cat. 

Yoosung: Rika. Just use Rika information or threaten his family. 

Jaehee: Break C&R. If it or Jumin falls, she’s easy. Not sure. 

Oh, and there’s actually recipes in his portion of the diary as well. He has a lot of sweet things listed and God, he would get me. He literally makes notes about a tester in this. He has to jot down who would be a good idea and how he could ensure their happiness. He says that he’s not as good as the chef in Mint Eye but he wants to be good enough.

So, he actually tries to learn how to make things for us. He failed at making ice cream. He made some progress at brunch and he tried to make some cake but it wasn’t quite up to par yet. He notes his mistakes and says that he’ll keep trying to learn for the tester. So, that’s how he’s spending his six months. 

His final note in this journal is hopeful of the tester. He’s got everything as it needs to be but he needs his tester to come to him. He hopes they’re a good person but he doesn’t know how to interact with them. He wonders how he should start talking to them, anyway. How do you talk to people on the outside? He doesn’t know... maybe an introduction? 

Should he greet you? 

Should he try harder? 

He really fixates on how to say hi to you. 

He decides simple is good. 

“Hello! My name is Ray.” 

And if you turn the page, you’re smacked with that photo and my knees just went a little weak. Oh boy, honey, darling, I love you. I’m sorry that you’ve suffered so much but it’s okay. I’m here! We’ll get out of this place together soon. All and all, this was a solid read that gave me a lot more perspective on my boy. There’s still a bit of information in Rika’s Diary, to be honest. But this stood out more to me here. 

[high-functioning-lokipath]

SH - Sherlock x Watson!reader - Strangers Like Me - 1,468

A/N: THIS IS THE FIRST SHERLOCK ONESHOT I WROTE! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! (WHY AM I YELLING? 🤣) ~ AMETHYST

You had come to visit your brother in London about a week ago. Unfortunately, you had unknowingly brought with you a stomach bug and gave it to your brother. This particular morning he was still in bed sleeping, no longer sick but still too weak to go out. You'd spent most of your time helping him recover or sightseeing around the city. You, of course, had met Sherlock but you didn't spend too much time around him because you didn't want him to deduce your secret. 

"John!" Sherlock yelled from downstairs. Your brother "Jawwwwwn!!!!" He yelled again. You ran downstairs to quiet him down. 

"Sherlock!" You whisper-yelled. "Please don't yell! He's still sleeping for goodness sake!"

"Why?"

"Why is he still sleeping?"

"Yes."

"Because he's still recovering from being sick you twit!" 

"But I need him for a case! Gavin just called me and said there was a murder!"

"Gavin?"

"Yes, Geoff."

"Geoff?"

"Gucci."

"Oh! Greg!"

"That's not it."

"Yes it is."

"No, Lestrade's first name is-"

"Greg," John said coming down the stairs completely wrapped up in his blanket. 

"John!" You both exclaimed. 

"You look absolutely dreadful!" Sherlock stated. "How are you supposed to help me in that condition?"

"I'm not!" He said, "I'm going back to bed. She'll go with you."

"John, please no," you pleaded. Your brother gave you a pointed look.

"Look, you can't avoid him forever. I think he might actually find you quite interesting." He whispered.

"I don't think this is a goo-" you paused a moment looking again at your brother. "Are you wearing any pants?" You asked loud enough for Sherlock to hear too.

"Nope." John and Sherlock both started laughing hysterically. You tried to look disgusted but couldn't help yourself and joined in on the laughter. John started coughing suddenly, ruining the happy mood. 

"You'd better get back to bed, John," You said. "I'll put on a fresh pot for you and I guess I'll go with Sherlock if that'll make you happy."

"Thanks, sis," He replied heading back upstairs. You went to the kitchen and started some more tea. Sherlock hadn't said a word but you felt his intense gaze on your back. You whipped around suddenly, staring back at him. His gaze faltered for a moment before he finally opened his mouth to speak.

"I suppose you'll do. Just make sure not to mess anything up."

"I wouldn't dare," You replied. Purposely bumping into him as you walked out of the kitchen, you smiled to yourself. Perhaps you wouldn't let him figure out your secret. Perhaps you'd show it to him willingly. 

"We found her in the car completely unresponsive. The medics pronounced her dead at the scene. We figure she couldn't have been here for more than a couple hours," D.I. Lestrade explained.

"To the average person it would look like a standard car accident. Why were you guys called?" You asked. Sherlock was completely ignoring Greg, preferring to examine the body. 

"She was an old classmate of mine actually. We kept in contact occasionally. She always told me she would never get behind the wheel of a car. We were called because the car wasn't registered to her and the owner has gone missing." You nodded and thought about the situation. Walking up to the body and the car, you examined it for yourself.

"The driver of the car, where did he work?" You asked. 

"At the bank about 6 blocks north of here."

"Call the bank and ask if they ever punched in this morning. I think they'll also find they're missing some money. Here's what happened. Your friend and the owner of the car had both gotten jobs at the bank about 2 months ago. They decided to carpool since they lived near each other. They headed into work this morning, the first ones in. When they entered the bank 2 robbers were already inside. They went to hit the alarm but the robbers took them hostage, they'd already gotten the money. They assumed your friend was the driver of the car and forced her to get behind the wheel. As they were driving she started to have an asthma attack and lost control of the car. They probably had another buddy nearby in another car so they could get away with at least one hostage." Taking a closer look at some papers in the car, you said: "Try the Hotel on 27th. That's where they're staying."

"How did you figure this all out?" Greg exclaimed.

"It's quite easy, all the evidence is right there," You stated.

"C'mon, Miss Watson," Sherlock said sharply. "Wouldn't want to keep your dear brother waiting home alone. Good day, Lestrade." He grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the scene. He was silent, never sparing a glance in your direction for the whole walk back to 221b. 

"Wait just a minute, Mr. Holmes. We're both adults and we are going to discuss this matter as such," You said just before going inside. You now grabbed his arm and pulled him into Speedy's. Pushing him into a booth, you sat across him and analyzed him carefully. He'd placed his elbows on the table, hands together in a prayer position, fingertips resting on his chin. He stared straight ahead, which so happened to be directly at you. "Oh no you don't! Don't go off into your mind palace now, Sherly."

"Don't call me that!" He snapped, a barely noticeable pink rising to his cheek. 

"Are you sure, Shirl?" You cooed, noting his reaction. He blushed even harder this time. His face remained stoic but his eyes shone. "You like the fact that someone has finally called you by a nickname without using it derogatorily. You claim not to be emotional but all the name calling affects you very much. Well they're wrong you know. You're not a freak, you're a genius. You're not ugly or weird, you're quite handsome and absolutely amazing. You're not crazy, well, maybe a little." He smiled slightly at that, finding himself unable to meet your eyes. "You do this work because you want to help and you find it enjoyable because you can understand it rather easily unlike emotional matters. Well lemme tell you something, honey, emotions aren't easy for anyone. But most people believe they're a necessary evil. And some people can read emotions a little better than others. You'll find most of those people are women though. I think that right now, you feel absolutely naked at having someone deduce you back." You looked down at your own hands. "Don't feel so bad. I don't mean any harm, I just-" You sighed deeply. "I've been doing this my whole life." He looked up at you, an amazed look on his face. "This deducing and all. Why do you think John gets along with you so well? He's used to me. I drove him and Harry crazy for years." You finally made eye contact with Sherlock again. "I'm sorry I stole your spotlight today. I just, I just wanted to let you know you're not alone."

"What emotions do you see in me now?" He stared deeply into your eyes. 

"Admiration, surprise, and," you paused for a moment. 'No, he wouldn't feel that way,' You thought. "Uh, I don't know." You trailed off. 

"C'mere," he said standing up and taking your hand. You stood up facing him. He took both of your hands in his. "You missed one," he whispered, leaning into you. "Love." He closed the gap, kissing you quickly on the lips. 

"SherlocK! I-"

"Come with me," He exclaimed, grabbing your hand. 

"What are you doing?" You yelled as he pulled you out of Speedy's and upstairs to the flat.

"Jawwwwwn!" He yelled bursting through the door.

"I'm right here," Your brother groaned from his chair not 6 feet away. "What is it?"

"I'm going to marry your sister."

"Sherlock!!!" You yelled. "You haven't even asked me yet!"

"So? I know your answer," He replied with his classic, cocky smile.

"I still want you to ask." He raised his eyebrow at you, still remaining silent.

"Just ask her the bloody question, Sherlock!" John yelled. You laughed as Sherlock reluctantly got down on one knee. Taking your hand he finally said those four special words.

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" You replied emphatically. He picked you up as he stood and twirled you around. After he finally put you down he kissed you with such emotion you almost didn't believe it was him. 

"Ok, ok. I get it. My sister's in love with my best friend and my best friend finally admitted he's human. Now can you please not do that in front of me? I think I'm going to throw up and I promise you it's not this stomach bug I have."

[zodiyack]

Opposites Attract (1,000+ Follower Special!!)

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Female!Pierce/Petrova!Reader

Warnings: Possibly swearing?, fluff, indications of smut??, death/mentions of death, slight angst/violence, I think that’s all

Words: 1,667

Summary: The younger sister of Katherine was the true owner of Damon’s heart, Katherine only being his worry in 1864 due to the sister’s bond, the bond that fueled Katherine to force Y/n to join her when she escaped Mystic Falls and left Damon to think they were both in the tomb.

Note: I have no idea what to say honestly... I’ve been gone due to troubles with my computer yet you guys stuck around and that’s what matters to me. Though I may have a bit of a hard time with words, I hope you guys know that you all mean so much to me 💕💕

And if you’d like me to make a part two, which I’m already planning on doing- I just really liked the ending, or make this a series, feel free to let me know!

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​

Masterlist | The Vampire Diaries Masterlist

Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV. Part V. Part VI.

1864

Her back hit the wall, lips molded with his as their tongues clashed in a hungry passion. Her fingers played with his hair and pulled his face and body closer to hers. With his hands trapping her against the wall, she felt content.

“Turn me.”

“I can’t, Da-”

“Don’t. I understand, Katherine and all that...but promise me that one day, you’ll escape her grasp and run away with me.” She forced herself to look into Damon’s eyes, her undead heart breaking at the sorrow that drowned in his blue orbs. “Please?”

“I can’t make any promises...” she paused involuntarily, her heightened hearing catching a sudden ruckus from Stefan’s room and stealing her attention. Damon frowned, adjusting his grip on her waist to pull her back to reality. “I...I just can’t right now. However,” the smile returned to his lips, “one day, I will find you. And if you still want to...you may take me up on that promise, Salvatore.”

He was ready to answer when his door burst open and he and Y/n pulled away in a panic. His father stared down Y/n with a great furry in his body. She didn’t say a word, simply kissing Damon softly and nodding to Mr. Salvatore.

“Father- please-”

“No. She’s a monster, Damon! Her sister is a monster! They are monsters! Don’t you see that? She’ll kill you if you give her the chance. The same goes for Stefan and the other Pierce girl. If they’re even girls.” He mumbled the last bit of his sentence, too caught up in the belief that they were pure evil to consider any other possibility.

“She’s not a mons-”

“Yes. She is. Now, enough! I’m already ashamed of your siding with the demons, there is no need to make it worse, boy!” Mr. Salvatore grunted and put a muzzle-like-mask over Y/n’s head and called out to the rest of the hunters, watching as she was dragged away with a grimace upon his face.

Whilst Damon was traumatized, angry at his father and the world for their cruel decisions for his life, he attempted at keeping a neutral, unphased expression. “What will happen to her?”

“The same thing that will happen to the other monsters; she’ll burn.”

Present Day

Damon continued pacing throughout the house, ignoring Stefan’s pleas for him to stop. He thought about what Emily had told him, and what he needed to do. He had everything he needed, what was stopping him from going to the tomb? A gut feeling? Life? Was he just a big chicken?

He took a breather, telling himself to think about the reason he was in this mess. It was for a girl. The love of his life, to be specific. Y/n Pierce. The lovely lady who had come to stay with the Salvatore brothers after her and her sister’s parents had burnt with their home.

They felt pity for the girls, taking them in and, from then on, starting their odd journey through the supernatural world. Y/n was the first to reveal her secret; pulling away from a kiss with Damon due to her loss of control over her vampire features.

Though normally he’d be afraid, Damon had gripped her chin and forced her to look at him, awe and interest shining on his face. It was that night that he confessed his love for her, promising to take her away one day.

He chuckled at the memory, wiping his thumb across his lips. Damon remembered the taste of her lips like it was yesterday. The delicate softness paired with the lustful desire of their kisses was perfection. The kisses they had shared held something no one else could give him.

Despite occasionally hooking up with a girl or two, he was still on the search for his long lost lover. Deep down, he knew the sex was just for a distraction; even if he didn’t want to think of it as such, he knew that he was constantly comparing them to Y/n. Sometimes verbally, sometimes mentally, either way- the comments were always about the woman his heart belonged really to.

“Damon. Why are you really here?”

To find Y/n and stay true to my promise. “Just to be with you, little brother! Is it wrong that I want some bonding time with my little bro?”

“For you? Yes.” Stefan made it a point to avoid and ignore Damon as much as possible, especially with a girlfriend to protect from his ‘evil’ also-vampire brother. “Now, I’m going to ask you again. Why are you really here?”

Damon sighed. “You already know that Stefan.”

Now that Damon was closer than ever to opening the tomb, he was more than ready to reveal his true intentions. Stefan believed Damon was after Katherine, pleading him to leave as soon as they got out of the tomb. But in reality, Damon could care less about that vampire. He just wanted Y/n, but with the sisters being closer than anything he’d ever seen, he had no choice but to rescue Katherine as well.

If he was lucky, Katherine would allow Y/n to stray from her and stay with Damon, but he had a feeling that would never happen. Not with how possessive Katherine was. How she insisted that blood, as well as herself, went first.

1864

“We need to go back to them!” Y/n tried to run to her lover’s body. Her heart was racing. She’d come back to find that her beloved had been shot dead, his brother the same. Before Y/n could reach the man, Katherine gripped her waist and held her back, stronger than her younger sister due to being older in human and vampire years.

Y/n was the one Petrova to have escaped Klaus in his act of revenge. To be fair, it wasn’t his fault that he missed her. She was out picking berries, going about her life normally, before returning to a bloodied home with the bodies of the people she loved strewn about messily.

She remembered falling to her knees and cursing at whatever entity seemed to be there. Whether it was God or some other being, she demanded, through sobs, to know what she had done to deserve it.

Then, as if her prayer-like-yells of agony had been answered, Katerina showed up at the doorway. Her reaction was similar to Y/n’s; first, processing what she was seeing, then, feeling the fear freeze her in place, and finally, screaming and trying to shake her family awake, hoping as much as she could that it was all a dream.

Y/n walked from her hiding spot slowly, still shaking from her discovery but much more calmed with the presence of her older sister. “Who would do such a thing?”

She swore she could never forget the rage, paired with terror, in her sister’s eyes. “Klaus. Klaus Mikaelson did this.”

That very day, she turned her sister. She explained that they would live long enough to either kill Klaus and get revenge, or plea for his forgiveness and live their lives once more.

Snapping out of her memory fueled trance, Y/n broke free of her sister’s arms and dropped to the ground beside Damon. She pulled his head onto her lap and brushed his dark curls from his face. She chuckled to herself when she noticed her tears dropping onto his face.

“Goodbye, my love.” Y/n pressed a kiss to his forehead, then one on the tip of his nose. Finally, one on his lips, staying a little longer than the others as she savored the intimacy in their final goodbye. “If I only I had told you yes...”

She left her sister to say her goodbye to Stefan, wiping her tears away as she felt what was left of her heart crumble into bits.

Once, she had a family. And then she had her sister. Then she had her sister and an owner to her heart, the feeling of humanity returning to her undead body, feeling alive for the first time since her transition.

Now? She was back to having only her sister.

Damon felt the same way.

When he had woken, taking time to recover from the shock of being alive. Emily had told him how Katherine compelled Stefan to drink her blood, and he already knew that he drank Y/n’s blood willingly.

“There’s no point in living.” Damon pleaded with his brother after he tried to get him to feed, “They’re dead.”

Present Day

He ran into the tomb, desperate to find the sister of the vampire doppelganger. Damon sighed, ‘speaking of doppelgangers’, Elena had followed him, ignoring Sheila and Bonnie’s warnings.

“What’s that sound?”

“They can smell you.” He made his way through the tomb, eyes traveling from one decayed vampire to the other, cursing to himself each time they weren’t Y/n. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t give up. At some point, he’d gotten separated from Elena, but he didn’t care- never faltering in his search.

After spending more time looking for the vampire with negative results, Stefan had rushed in. He seemed anxious, desperate, ready to plead. And that he was. “Damon. We have to go.”

“She’s not here...” He felt like he was having a panic attack, which was more than likely. Damon threw the blood bag he had brought for her against the wall, “She’s- she’s not here, Stefan!”

“Who? Katherine? Look, I’m sorry that she’s not here, but we need to go!”

“No! Not Katherine! Y/n! She’s- she’s gone...she’s gone Stef.” Stefan furrowed his brows, feeling sympathy for his brother for a split second, then realizing how much time they were wasting.

“I’m sorry... Okay Damon? Maybe she didn’t die-”

“Don’t get my hopes up, alright?”

“Alright, I’m sorry. Really, I am. But- we need to go, like, right now.” He grabbed his brother and sped him out, gaining a boost with his vampire speed. The entire time he thought his brother was after the bad sister, but he was after the good one.

Opposites really do attract.

[yeenybeanies]

Fujin But He’s A Giant

i wanted to make this longer, but i started it like nine months ago & i’m tired of looking at it, so y’all can have it half-baked lmao

mortal kombat | fujin & megumi hiraoka ( oc )

1,462 words

no warnings

enjoy! reblogs > likes!!

patreon ✨ ko-fi

A storm howled beyond the temple walls, a melancholic choir of wind to the rain’s rhythm. Most would think nothing of it, or perhaps, at most, think it an inconvenience. The Wind God, however, thought differently: he listened deeper, focused the choir of gusts and the percussive beats of rain on stone. He inhaled, pulling the winds into his lungs, and the smell of petrichor with it. 

Fujin was not one to revel much in his status as a god––unlike some others he knew. He was a humble deity, and a dedicated protector of Earthrealm, alongside his older brother. Raiden, however, was not quite as close to humanity as Fujin. Where Raiden typically kept to the Sky Temple or to his chosen champions, Fujin often spent time on the surface, among the humans. During his trips, he would usually alter his appearance and immerse himself into humanity, but other times, like now, he chose to retain his godly stature, glowing tattoos and titan’s height and all.

The shrine he’d chosen, a modest structure in the middle of rural, Japanese farmland, was only just tall enough to accommodate him––while seated. On the ceiling, there was a faint crack in the stone, matching a sore spot on his crown. Luckily, no one had been around to bear witness to his moment of clumsiness. 

It seemed that no humans were interested in braving this storm. Though the Wind God was not mortal, he could empathize with mortal discomforts the rains and winds brought. And lightning––countless spars with his brother had long-since taught him that lightning was painful. 

Fujin drew in another breath. He kept his eyes closed, blocking off his senses so he could narrow his focus on the sounds of the storm. Everything moved as it should. The winds sang their song, the leaves rattled in tune, and the rain kept the rhythm. 

Then something broke the rhythm. A new beat echoed just outside of the shrine. Fujin furrowed his brows, but did not yet open his eyes. He instead listened. The sound pitter-pattered, though it was not the rain. No, it was footsteps. They entered the shrine, bringing with them another pitter-patter––the sound of water dripping from soaked clothes. 

Curious. So there was a human willing to brave the storm. But why? The Wind God remained still as stone, listening to the human’s movements. They approached slowly, with trepidation, and stopped before the bell and offering box. Fujin waited as the ring of the bell and the coin offering echoed through the shrine, and still a few moments more, until he could no longer restrain his curiosity. One eye opened, and the other followed suit after finding the little body––smaller than he’d expected. Why, the human in the storm was none other than a child, from the looks of it, perhaps in her mid teens. Curious indeed. 

The child had her head bowed and her hands pressed together. Her lips moved, voicelessly muttering a prayer. What could she have to say that could not wait until the storm had passed? Furthermore, most humans did not respond so calmly to Fujin when he maintained this form—this forty-foot-tall form. Did she not know that he was here?

Fujin watched for a full minute. She didn’t seem anywhere close to being done. He dared to lean forward a smidge, trying to catch her words. It was then that he noticed yet another oddity: drops of water still rolled down her cheeks. It could have been the rain—she was positively soaked, after all—but the accompanying sniffles and telltale paths the drops took brought him to the conclusion that they were tears. The girl was crying, weeping quietly as she prayed. 

This story kept getting stranger and stranger. 

The Wind God leaned forward a bit more, mouth open to speak, when the girl looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes. Her sudden movement startled him, stopping any words he was about to say in their tracks, leaving him to stammer lamely. Her subsequent scream, too, startled him. 

This was more the reaction he was accustomed to. 

Positively frightened, the girl stumbled backwards, very rapidly backpedaling towards the shrine stairs. 

“No—wait!” Fujin tried to reach for her, but he only managed to knock over the  bell and make her scream again. Her heel found the edge of the top-most step, and, with a brief teeter, her weight tipped backwards. She let out a startled yelp and closed her eyes, bracing for the painful fall down the hard, stone steps. Fujin grit his teeth and motioned with his hand, commanding the wind at her back to lift her and pull her back into the shrine. She remained in a state of shock, even as the winds cradled her and gently set her back down on her feet, safe and sound. Fujin bit the inside of his cheek, feeling foolish and awkward, but relieved that she had not been hurt. 

“Are you—“ the girl flinched at his words, though he made sure to keep his voice low. He cleared his throat softly. “Are you… alright, miss?” 

It took the girl a long moment to find her voice. “You’re not a statue….” 

“Ah, no…. You thought I was…?” That would explain why she hadn’t been immediately afraid of him. 

“I… yes…. I have never been to this shrine before….” She stole a glance down at her feet and swiped a hand along her cheeks, brushing away the rain and tear stains. 

“I see,” the Wind God leaned forward, chin resting on a loose fist. “I would be lying if I said I was not curious: what brings you here, little one?” 

Her feet must have been far more interesting, for the girl continued to stare down at them. Sheepishly she toed at a stain in the stone floor. Her shivers did not go unnoticed. Fujin guessed that he was responsible, though he suspected the cold also played a part. She was silent for a long moment before she answered him. 

“My brother––he… he’s been missing for several days now… We were supposed to travel back home three days ago, but I have not been able to find him. Nor have the police.” Her voice quivered, and her eyes threatened to spill more tears. She inhaled sharply, trying to mask her sniffles, and glanced up at Fujin. “I did not know what else to do, where else to go… so I came here to ask the Kami for help. You… who are you?” 

Her question drew a soft snort from Fujin, but her story kept him from laughing outright. “I am not the Kami of this shrine, but I am a god, yes. I am Fujin.” Before he could say more, the girl went tense. Stiffly she dropped to her knees and bowed before him. He lifted his hands, but decided against touching her just yet. “Please––no need for that. Little one, rise.” 

She hesitated, fighting her compulsion to show respect to the Wind God and to obey his words. Tentatively, she chose to do the latter, though her stiffness remained. Her shaking only seemed to grow in intensity. Fujin frowned, feeling pity for the girl. 

“What is your name, little one?” 

“Hiraoka Megumi,” she said, head still bowed. 

“And your brother?” 

“Hiraoka Kazue.” Her shoulders slumped and her voice faltered a little. Just saying her missing kin’s name caused her great distress. 

A sudden gust from the storm billowed into the shrine, bringing cold air and chilled drops of rain. The girl––Megumi––flinched and tried vainly to shield her face from the ornery weather. Fujin stole a quick peek outside, then waved his hands, stilling the winds around them. Megumi looked around at the suddenly stagnant shrine, then up at Fujin––just in time to see his large hands approaching her. A startled yelp left her mouth. She retreated a few steps, and his hands paused. 

“Easy. You are cold, yes?” He said, hoping his voice sounded soothing. “I am not going to harm you.” Megumi stared at his hands warily, and flinched when they continued towards her, but didn’t move again. Fingers thicker than her arms gently cradled behind her back and legs, lifting her weight from the floor as if it were nothing. To Fujin, it was nothing. He took care not to move too quickly, lest he scare her more. Her little form already shook in his hands like the leaves in the storm outside. Unlike his brother, who was usually very warm to the touch, Fujin was rather cool. Nevertheless, being a god, he could easily adjust his temperature for the girl’s comfort. He smiled down at her, trying to put her at ease. 

“Now, tell me about your brother. I may be able to help you find him.” 

[prouvaireafterdark]

See Something You Like? - Malex Sex Shop AU Part 1/2

It’s FINALLY here: the Malex Sex Shop AU you’ve all been waiting for! Well, the first half anyway (Part Two will be out soon!)

I dedicate this fic to my friendly neighborhood Thigh Riding Anon™️, who inspired this fic with her galaxy brain prompt, and all of you who have been patiently waiting for me to finish this absolute monster of a smut fic. I hope you enjoy it! 💜😘

Also on AO3!

***

When Michael moved to California to start his PhD in agricultural engineering, he’d grossly underestimated how expensive the move would be. The stipend that came with his teaching assistantship just barely covers the rent on his studio apartment, and finding a roommate off Craigslist that’s desperate enough to live in such close quarters isn’t exactly an option considering how many alien skeletons Michael’s got in his closet. The vegetables he’s planning on growing in his complex’s shared community garden will help, but if he wants to eat any time soon he’s gonna have to find a part time job.

Enter Jackie and Kris, the delightful middle-aged lesbian couple who live next door and share Michael’s enthusiasm for sustainable gardening and the occasional midnight smoke.

They get to talking one night while passing a bong back and forth over the railing that divides their balconies, first about DIY organic fertilizer and then about Michael’s degree. He lets spill in a moment of weakness that his coursework is a breeze, but he’s worried he’ll run out of money before he can finish the program. As embarrassed as he is about the confession, it ends up saving his life.

Turns out, Jackie and Kris own a sex shop named Pandora’s Box around the corner and have been looking for some help running the storefront while they focus on expanding their online business and organizing safe sex workshops for the local queer and BDSM communities. The hours would be flexible around Michael’s schedule and all they really would need him to do is stand behind the register, ring people up, and answer questions about their products with “affability and professionalism.”

It’s maybe not the work he imagined himself doing when he moved to California for grad school, but for $15/hr, Michael really can’t afford to say no. He sits for an official interview the very next day and leaves Jackie’s home office with a new job and a pot brownie wrapped in tin foil, eager to get started on both.

Monday afternoons at Pandora's Box are the best. They’re notoriously slow so Michael gets to work his shift alone, which gives him ample time to grade the assignments he procrastinated on all weekend while he sits behind the counter.

It’s a Monday afternoon, in fact, about a year and a half later, when Michael hears the bell above the door chime softly to announce the arrival of a customer who would change his life forever.

The first thing Michael notices when he lifts his head from the stack of exams on the counter is the black leather jacket that’s stretched across the man’s broad shoulders. When Michael’s eyes flick up to get a look at the man’s face, he’s met with sharp cheekbones, beautifully tan skin, and a pair of trendy but understated sunglasses. He looks a little lost—unsurprising, since Michael’s certain he would have remembered it if he’d ever seen a man that pretty walk into his shop before—but when he realizes Michael’s looking at him, he flips his sunglasses up onto his artfully messy dark hair and smiles.

And oh, what a smile it is—the most beautiful one Michael has ever seen, soft and sweeter that it has any right to be, his full lips capturing Michael’s attention with ease. His heart pounds in his chest as their eyes lock together, and if Michael didn’t know any better, he’d think he’s just fallen in love with a perfect stranger.

Before Michael can do more than shoot him a dazed smile in return, the man disappears down an aisle.

As a general rule, Michael doesn’t talk to customers who don’t approach him for help first. It’s best practice in a store that sells pornography and sex toys—most customers don’t want to be questioned about their kinks, and those that do usually already know what they’re looking for—but the pull he feels toward this man is undeniable. He’s curious about him for reasons he can’t explain, and as his feet carry him off in the direction the man went, Michael decides not to question it.

Michael weaves casually through the aisles until he finds the man staring up at the floor to ceiling wall display of dildos and other anal toys—because of course he does. He sends a prayer to a god he doesn’t believe in that this man isn’t buying something for his girlfriend before he steps in line beside him.

“See something you like?” Michael asks, toning down his customer service voice into something approaching normal human speech.

Up close, he can see the man has a septum piercing, which glints a little in the light. Michael’s seen plenty of people with body jewelry come through this store, but he’s never really thought of it as cute until now.

The man smiles at him, a little shy, but Michael’s not so distracted this time that he misses the way his eyes flick over his body in naked interest, and it leaves him feeling a little hot under the collar.

“I’m not sure yet,” the stranger answers.

Even his voice is nice, Michael notes, deeper than he expects and smooth like honey.

Michael nods in understanding. He gets it—this wall can certainly be intimidating, even for someone who’s been to a sex shop before. He looks the man over again, taking in his charmingly flushed cheeks, and wonders if it’s his first time in a place like this. If maybe he needs a little help after all.

It’s a good thing Michael’s an expert, huh?

He doesn’t want to come at him too strongly, though. Encountering an overbearing sales associate isn’t any more fun than being one, and Michael certainly isn’t looking to push the guy passed his personal boundaries. He may be smitten, but he’s not an asshole.

“Well, if you have any questions about any of our products, my name’s Michael,” he says, flashing him a warm smile.

He’s about to go off in search of a nearby display to straighten up so he can give the man some space, but his voice catches Michael’s attention once more.

“And if I don’t have questions?” the man asks, and when Michael turns to look at him there’s a real smile tugging at his lips this time. “What should I call you then?”

Michael laughs, shaking his head as he shoots back, “Okay, smartass, what should I call you?”

For a single, horrible second after his own words reach his ears, Michael thinks he’s gone too far, but the sudden burst of anxiety in his chest turns out to be for nothing—the man’s grin only grows wider.

“Alex,” he says, and to Michael’s surprise he holds his hand out for him.

Alex’s palm is warm against his when he shakes it, and Michael can’t help but wonder how it would feel anchored in his curls or clutching tight to the skin of his hips.

“So, Alex,” Michael starts, emboldened by the introduction. He finds he likes the way Alex’s name feels in his mouth. “What are you in the market for today?”

Alex flushes a little and it’s so endearing Michael has to bite the inside of his bottom lip to keep from smiling.

“That’s the thing—I don’t really know,” Alex answers honestly. “There’s just so many options.”

“Okay, well, let’s start with an easier question: are you shopping for yourself or a significant other?” he asks, and, yeah, maybe he’s planning on filing the answer to his question away for later. Sue him.

Alex looks at him like maybe he suspects ulterior motives, but Michael shamelessly holds his gaze.

“No boyfriend,” Alex says, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “I’m looking for something for myself.”

“Fantastic,” Michael smiles, before he slips a little deeper into salesman mode. “So, judging by the aisle we’re standing in, I’m gonna take a leap and say that you’re looking for a toy you can use for internal anal stimulation. Is that right?”

“Yeah. Think you can help me out with that?” Alex asks, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Definitely,” Michael answers with a smirk before he turns to the wall display. “As you can see, we have a pretty wide selection; you name it, we’ve probably either got it in stock or can have it shipped in three to five business days. Is there a particular price point you’re aiming for?”

Alex seems to think about it. “I’m not really looking to spend more than $100, but I could go up to $150 if it’ll change my life.”

“I can work with that,” Michael assures him. “Any other parameters I should keep in mind?”

“I’ve read that jelly toys can be dangerous, so definitely not anything made out of that,” Alex says, and Michael’s glad to hear he’s done his research. Jelly toys are frustratingly popular because they’re so cheap and Michael usually has to put in a little work to talk people out of buying them.

“Oh yeah, fuck that jelly shit,” Michael agrees, and Alex’s startled laugh makes his heart skip. “They’re impossible to sanitize properly and they’re full of toxic chemicals—you wouldn’t believe the horror stories I’ve heard about them since I started working here. If you’re looking for something with a softer texture, medical grade silicone is really the only way to go. Just make sure you stick to water-based lube or else you could ruin your toy.”

Alex nods thoughtfully, like he’s read that too.

“Glass and metal are also good options,” Michael continues. “They obviously feel a lot harder inside you, but they’re easy to clean, you don’t have to be as careful about what lube you use, and they’re naturally waterproof. They’re excellent for temperature play, too, if you’re into that.”

“Never tried it,” Alex confesses.

“It’s not for everyone, but it can be a fun time,” Michael says, recalling the scorching summer afternoon he spent fooling around with an ice cube tray and a girl he met on Tinder. “So, your options are metal, glass, and silicone. Any preference?”

Michael notices Alex’s eye catching on a set of stainless steel plugs, but he answers, “Silicone for now, I think.”

“Good choice,” Michael replies easily. “So, now that we know what material you’re looking for, let’s talk about your ideal experience. What are you looking to get out of your purchase?”

“An orgasm?” Alex answers, his confusion evident.

Michael laughs. “Sorry, I meant—how would you like to get there? What sort of sensation are you looking for?”

Alex looks a little lost at the question, so Michael turns to plan B.

“See, this one, for example,” Michael says, pointing to a familiar black prostate massager, “is great for when you wanna get off fast and hard. It’s not too thick, so you don’t have to spend a ton of time opening yourself up for it, and the curve puts the tip of it right up on your p-spot. It’s also got a bunch of different vibration settings and get this: It’s waterproof.”

Alex hums in interested acknowledgement, though Michael notes that the longer he talks, the more Alex’s attention is fixed on him, not the toy.

Feeling bold, Michael adds, “I’d advise caution if you’ve got thin walls though.”

“Why, does it make a lot of noise?” Alex asks curiously.

A slow grin spreads across Michael’s lips. “No,” he says with a shake of his head. “But you will.”

Michael watches Alex try and fail to suppress a smile, his full bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“You seem pretty sure of that,” Alex says when he releases it. “That from firsthand experience, or are you just a really good salesman?”

Michael laughs, equal parts delighted by Alex’s flirting and embarrassed by the memory his question brings to mind.

“What?” Alex asks, a smile building on his face.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you,” Michael hesitates, his face heating up just thinking about it. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Aw, come on,” Alex goads him. “Don’t be such a tease.”

Michael gasps in mock offense. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but a tease isn’t one of them.”

“That mean you’re gonna tell me what’s got you blushing like that after all?” Alex asks.

“I’m not blushing,” Michael protests, even though he definitely is.

Alex raises an eyebrow at him. It’s stupidly attractive.

With a huff, Michael considers his options. He doesn’t usually give personal anecdotes like this to customers, but there’s just something about Alex that makes Michael want to give him whatever he wants.

“Fuck it, why not?” Michael says to himself.

Alex smiles victoriously and settles in to listen.

“So, about a year ago, I came in to work and found this box sitting on the table in the break room, which was filled with a bunch of different toys from the company that makes that massager. I asked my boss about it and she said the company sent her a bunch of free samples.”

“Does that happen often?” Alex interrupts to ask. “Companies just send you free stuff?”

“Eh, sometimes, if it’s from a new line of toys that a company wants retailers to hype up,” Michael explains. “It helps that my boss Jackie’s wife Kris has a pretty popular blog where she tests and rates toys, so she gets free stuff all the time.”

“Huh,” Alex says. “So I’m guessing you took one after your shift?”

“Oh yeah,” Michael nods. “Tried it out as soon as I got home.”

“How was it?”

“Intense is about the only word that covers it,” Michael answers. “Those vibrations can be really powerful, it was like nothing else I’d ever tried before. Definitely one of my top ten solo orgasms of all time.”

“Not number one?” Alex asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I came in, like, a minute, so no, not quite,” Michael laughs.

“Is that the embarrassing part?” Alex asks. “That you came so fast?”

“Not quite,” Michael winces, his cheeks flushing. “As I was coming, I screamed so loud that the little old lady whose living room is on the other side of my bedroom called the cops on me. Apparently, she thought I was being murdered.”

“Oh no,” Alex laughs, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Michael agrees. “Not exactly the happy ending I was after.”

Alex laughs again, but there’s heat behind his eyes too when he asks, a moment later, “Not usually a screamer, I take it?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Michael winks.

“Mm,” Alex hums thoughtfully. He looks Michael right in the eye as he asks, “Well, what if I don’t want to get off that fast? What if I want to make it last?”

Michael tries not to smile as he gets back to business.

“Well, I should mention that this massager does also have softer levels of vibration intensity, which I only discovered after Officer ACAB knocked on my door,” Michael says.

Alex laughs before asking incredulously, “You didn’t read the instructions?”

“Uh, no,” Michael admits. “I’m more of a ‘take things apart and see how they work’ kinda guy, I’ve never been big on reading the directions.”

“Even after your little misadventure?” Alex asks.

“Hey, don’t knock my process. I got a fantastic orgasm out of that ‘misadventure,’” Michael reminds him.

“How could I forget?” Alex asks, shooting Michael a look that really tests his self-restraint.

Michael huffs a laugh and reaches up to scratch the back of his own neck so he doesn’t do something stupid, like push Alex against the fucking dildo display and kiss that look off his face.

“So, anyway,” Michael starts, shifting the topic back toward the task at hand, “you can either learn from my mistakes or you can try something that doesn’t have vibrations at all. We’ve got a great selection of dildos in all shapes and sizes.”

“Do any of them come with a story?” Alex asks cheekily.

Michael snickers in spite of himself. “Maybe,” he says noncommittally. “Let’s see what we’ve got in stock.”

Michael hums as he looks over the display, searching for another recommendation he can make, when his eye catches on a purple dildo with ribbing along the shaft.

“This one’s a good starter dildo,” he says, pointing it out. “It’s a pretty modest size, but the ribbing feels really nice and there’s a suction cup on the bottom if you wanna stick it somewhere and fuck yourself onto it. There’s also a few by the same company that have a hole that you can slide a bullet vibrator into if you wanna get something that can do both.”

“Have you tried them all?” Alex asks.

Michael laughs, looking up at the expansive display of dildos. “Not all of them,” he says, glancing over to Alex as he continues, “but the employee discount here is very generous and, as you already know, sometimes we get free shit. I’ve built up a bit of a collection since I started working here.”

“I see,” Alex replies, the corner of his mouth turning up before he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Michael tracks the movement hungrily when Alex releases it a moment later to ask, “Which one’s your favorite?”

“Depends,” Michael shrugs, aiming for nonchalance even though he can feel himself chubbing up in his jeans.

“On?”

“On how full I wanna feel,” Michael answers, and there’s no mistaking the heat that blazes in Alex’s eyes at those words, nor the sudden intake of breath that fills his chest.

If Alex wants him half as much as it looks like he does, Michael doesn’t even care if he gets fired for where this conversation is headed, so long as it ends with Alex’s hands on him.

“See, sometimes all I’m looking for is enough internal stimulation to get the job done,” Michael elaborates, his eyes watching Alex closely. “When I feel like that, I’ll use that prostate massager I showed you earlier on myself.”

Alex’s eyes flick over to the sleek black toy still sitting on the shelf that they’d just discussed.

“And the other times?” Alex asks when he tears his eyes away.

“Other times… other times I really wanna feel it,” Michael purrs, taking a step closer. Alex’s eyes drop right to his mouth, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip, and Michael can’t stop himself from asking, “You ever get like that, Alex? Like you just need something thick and heavy filling you up, so deep you’ll be feeling it for days?”

“Yeah,” Alex rasps.

“You wanna know what I fuck myself with then?” he asks.

Alex nods, eyes still on Michael’s mouth.

Michael gives him a sly grin before he backs up a few steps to find the sample of the eight inch galaxy dildo he treated himself to a few months ago. Alex follows him, as if they’re connected by an invisible string.

“This one,” he says, removing it from the shelf and offering it up for Alex’s inspection.

Alex takes it from him, his eyes passing over it with interest as he tests the give of the silicone with his fingers. Michael wonders if he’s imagining what it would look like inside him. He hopes he is.

“It might not look like much compared to some of the fucking horse cocks we sell here, but it’s thick,” Michael says, his cock hardening further the more he thinks about it, the longer Alex stands there holding it. “Takes me some time to work up to it, but it’s always worth it when I do.”

“Yeah?” Alex asks, eyes fixed where he’s shifting his hold on the dildo to measure it’s thickness with his fingers.

“Yeah,” Michael breathes, watching how Alex wraps his thumb and forefinger in a tight circle around the toy. They only just touch around its girth.

Alex hums to himself, sounding pleased, and Michael’s gut churns with the need to hear that sound again.

“I bet this stretches you out nice, huh,” Alex wonders a moment later, and with the way he stares at Michael then, like he’s trying to picture how he would look stuffed full, his rim taught over the silicone, he just knows Alex isn’t speaking generically.

“Yeah, it does,” Michael agrees quietly, trying not to squirm under the intensity of Alex’s gaze.

“How do you use it?” Alex asks him, stoking the flames inside him further.

“If you play your cards right, you just might find out,” Michael shoots back.

“You’d let me watch?” Alex asks, a smile teasing at his lips, and it’s all Michael can do not to get lost in the idea of riding that toy while Alex watches with his hand around his cock.

“Think I’d let you do more than that,” Michael admits.

Alex full-on grins at that, but before he can open his mouth to reply someone clears their throat behind them.

Michael’s heart seizes in his chest as he whips around to see Jenna Cameron, a regular customer and occasional drinking buddy of his, standing with her thumbs tucked into her police-issue gun belt. Michael can feel his erection flag at the sight of her.

“What’s a girl gotta do to get some service around here, Guerin?” Cameron asks, somehow managing to look annoyed and amused simultaneously. He notices there’s a discreet black plastic bag dangling from her fingers. “I’ve got places to be.”

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t hear anyone else come in,” Michael apologizes, trying and failing to keep a blush off his face.

“I can see that,” she answers with a pointed glance at Alex.

Michael takes an instinctive step away from him and clears his throat.

“I’ve gotta—“ he says to Alex, jerking his thumb behind him.

“Yeah,” Alex nods, eyes on his shoelaces. It makes the pleasure that had been coiling in his belly sour further.

“I’ll be right back,” Michael tells him, soft enough that Cameron won’t overhear.

The smile Alex gives him in return is encouraging enough that Michael’s fairly certain he won’t disappear if he leaves, so he follows Cameron back toward the register, all the while pointedly ignoring the smirk he can feel her directing at the side of his face.

He walks around the other side of the cash wrap and crosses his arms over his chest before he asks her, without an ounce of enthusiasm, “What do you want?”

“Damn, you’re really earning that employee of the month trophy aren’t you, Guerin?” she jokes, tossing the bag on the table. “I bought a harness this weekend, but it was broken when I took it out of the box. Receipt’s in the bag.”

Michael takes the box the leather strap-on harness came in out of the bag along with the receipt.

“Do you want a refund or an exchange?”

“Refund,” she says. “I’m thinking about getting one of those strapless ones instead.”

“You should talk to Kris, she’s got opinions about those,” he says as he starts scanning the receipt.

“Oh?” Cameron asks. “Is she here?”

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “You can catch her at the bondage workshop she’s running later though.”

“Perfect,” she replies before leaning forward onto the counter on her elbows. “So are you gonna tell me who the hottie with the nose ring you were talking to is?”

“Why, so you can find out if he’s got any priors?” Michael jokes, not taking his eyes off his task.

“Very funny,” Cameron deadpans. “You fuck him yet?”

“None of your business,” Michael answers.

“So that’s a no, then,” she smirks, and Michael lets out a long-suffering sigh in response.

“Don’t you have places to be? Donuts to eat?” he asks, pushing her return receipt hastily in her direction.

Before Cameron can answer, the front door swings open and in walks a short middle-aged woman with a dark brown pixie cut carrying an iced coffee and a stack of papers.

Michael startles at the sight of her, realizing it must be later in his shift than he’d thought—exactly how long had he stood there talking to Alex?—but he’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Kris!” Michael calls to her. “Perfect timing, Cam’s got some strap-on questions for you.”

“Well, I’ve got some strap-on answers,” Kris answers cheerfully as she walks around them to drop the stack of papers—freshly-printed but yet-to-be-folded safe sex pamphlets, Michael notices—onto the counter next to the second register. “Step into my office, baby girl.”

Cameron shoots Michael a look before she steps to the side to talk to Kris, who’s leaning patiently against the side of the cash wrap.

With Cameron finally out of his hair but Kris close enough to notice him leave, Michael starts planning his escape so he can find Alex again, but it turns out he doesn’t need one. When he looks up after putting Cam’s broken harness in the bin under the counter, he sees the man in question approaching his register with a familiar black box in his hands.

“I was gonna wait for you,” Alex explains as he sets the box on the counter, “but I’m actually supposed to be meeting my brother soon.”

“Shame,” Michael says, wishing they had more time. “I was looking forward to finishing that conversation.”

Alex glances covertly at Kris and Cameron before he leans a hair closer and says, “Don’t know that it was the conversation you were hoping to finish.”

Michael blushes, casting a look at Kris and Cameron to make sure they’re too engrossed in their conversation to notice when he leans in a little further and says, low so only Alex will hear, “What can I say? I’m very committed to customer satisfaction.”

Alex laughs, a bright and happy sound that makes Michael’s heart feel strangely full, before he asks, “You charm all your customers like this?”

“No,” Michael says honestly. “Not even a little bit.”

Alex looks at him for a long minute, trying to spot the lie, and when he finds none he merely shakes his head with an incredulous smile.

“Lucky me,” he says.

Michael winks at him before he turns his attention to the box on the counter, shifting it in his hands until he finds the barcode. He usually never comments on his customers’ purchases, but with this one he simply can’t resist.

“Went with the prostate massager, huh?” Michael asks, as he rings him up.

“What can I say?” Alex answers, a smile creeping onto his face. “You made me curious.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed,” Michael says.

“No,” Alex replies, and the way he looks at him then makes Michael wonder if they’re still talking about the massager. “I don’t think I will.”

Michael smiles at him before he tells him his total. Alex inserts the end of his card in the reader and his receipt prints a brief moment later.

“Can you sign here?” Michael asks, passing Alex the merchant’s copy of his receipt and the green pen he’d been grading with earlier.

“Mhm,” Alex hums, plucking the pen from his fingers and signing his name in a delicate script.

Michael ducks under the counter to find a bag adequately sized for Alex’s purchase before he places the box inside it along with Alex’s copy of the receipt.

“You’re all set,” Michael says, pushing the box in Alex’s direction.

“Thanks,” Alex smiles, holding the merchant copy of the receipt out for Michael to take. “And this is for you.”

Their fingers brush as Michael takes it from him and Michael swears he can feel the tension crackling between them at the simple touch.

“Thanks,” Michael says, mouth a little dry.

Alex glances back to Kris and Cam before he says, “Have a nice day, Michael.”

“You too,” Michael says, his eyes straying pointedly to the black bag in Alex’s hand.

“Oh, I will,” Alex says, one corner of his lips lifting up into a smile before he turns and heads for the door.

Michael can’t help but watch his ass and those broad shoulders as he leaves.

Once Alex is gone, Michael unfolds the receipt Alex left for him. He’s about to slide it into the folder they keep by the register for receipts when he notices the phone number printed neatly beside Alex’s signature. Below, Alex has also written the words: Hit me up if you want to hear my review.

“You strike out?”

Michael startles, looking up to see Cameron leaning on the counter, a lot closer than she was a moment ago. He sees Kris at the far end, folding her papers into pamphlets for her workshop later.

“Not quite,” Michael grins and pockets the receipt.

[icefire149]

An Angel’s Vow

Chapter Five (Read on ao3 | Read from the beginning)

Once the kitchen was clean, Claire put her other duffle bag on the table. She unzipped it. “It’s not much, but it works.”

Cas took everything out of the bag and examined it carefully. The bag contained: a machete, some silver bullets but no gun, a pouch of silver coins, an iron crowbar, a lock pick set, a coin Claire thinks is iron, a couple bottles of holy water, some spray paint, a half empty container of salt, a box of penguin band-aids, cleaning alcohol, and an angel sword. Cas frowned. “This is abysmal.”

Defensive, Claire crossed her arms. “The sword is basically a hunting equivalent to a Swiss army knife.”

“I don’t understand what military grade Swiss cutlery has to do with anything, but I do know hunting. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Oh, so here we go! Hit me with the speech.”

Cas turned around bewildered. “What are you talking about? There’s no speech.”

“So you’re not gonna tell me that I’m being stupid and I should go live a normal life?”

“I’m not going to yell at you or tell you what to do.” Cas tried to keep his voice even. “Am I happy that you’re hunting? No. Am I frustrated that you’re hunting by yourself? Absolutely. But it’s your life and I promised to keep you safe.”

Claire rolled her eyes with her whole body. She went over to the refrigerator and snagged a juice box out. With a loud pop, she stabbed the straw in.

Sighing, Cas put his hands on the table. He looked over Claire’s hunting supplies again. “I don’t think you understand.” His voice came out much softer than before.

The juice box was half way to Claire’s mouth when she froze.

“I know you’re not going to stop now that your mind is set. I want to help you be a better hunter.”

“What?”

Cas looked over his shoulder, and studied Claire. Obviously, she was grown by human standards, but he could still clearly see the small child he devastated…..is continuing to jeopardize. His chest started feeling unnaturally tight. For a moment he thought that he could still see the baby from the shreds of Jimmy’s memory that remains with him. “I’m willing to share my knowledge of the supernatural with you. Afterwards if you’re still willing to be a hunter at least you’ll be better informed about what you’re signing up for.”

“Are you serious?” Claire tilted her head, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “How are we supposed to hunt with the kid?”

“We’re not hunting. We’re studying.”

Claire’s whole body drooped. “Studying what? I can’t imagine where you have lore books stashed here. This house is pretty bare bones.”

“Lore books would be nice, but I have a library right up here.” He touched his temple with his index finger. “And besides we have a ton of ground to cover before thinking about hunts.”

“It’s not like I haven’t been on a couple hunts already.”

“Yeah, but do you have the exorcism chant memorized? Or recorded? Can you make hex bags? Draw various devil traps? Read any Latin or Enochian? Tracking spells? Draw angel banishing-”

“Okay!” Claire burst. She put the juice box down on the table. Her voice softened. “Okay, I get it.”

Cas nodded. “Would you be interested in learning any of that?”

“You’re seriously willing to teach me any of that?”

“Of course. I want you to be safe, and I want you to be happy.”

The next thing Cas knew, he was trapped in a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you,” Claire mumbled into his chest. She let go just as fast and sat in the chair she used earlier during lunch.

Cas pushed the juice box into her reach. She took it and started drinking. He smiled, feeling the tension loosen in his shoulders.

“So….” Claire spoke with the straw still in the corner of her mouth. “When does hunter school start, professor angel?”

“We could probably start tomorrow. Does that mean you’re planning on staying for a while?”

Sitting up straight, Claire’s expression morphed from jovial to serious. “Is that okay? Is it even safe with…”

They both glanced towards the living room for a moment. Cas crossed his arms. “Of course it’s okay. You’re free to come and go as much as you please.” He sighed, uncharacteristically running a hand through his hair. “But your second question...I honestly don’t know. And that frightens me.”

Cas pulled the chair closest to him and sat down. “You’re not safe if you leave now.” He gestured at her hunting supplies on the table. “I know Heaven is after Jack. I’ve been careful to keep us hidden, but it’s not without flaws. Jack’s birth should have attracted a ton of attention. I’m shocked we haven’t been discovered yet.”

“You’ve been doing good so far. Maybe they won’t find you,” Claire said, leaning her elbows on the table. She rested the side of her face in the palm of her hand.

“They will at some point….I just wish I knew what’s taking them so long. I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Is there any kind of warding we could put up? Spells?”

Cas smiled softly. “Angel warding would be useless in this situation. Yes, it would keep Heaven away from this house, but it would also keep me and Jack out.”

“So what have you done?”

“After Jack was born….the moment we could flee, I etched Enochian sigils into his ribs to hide him from every angel.” Cas subconsciously rubbed a hand over the tattoo on his side. “My body is hidden from angels in a similar way.”

Stunned, Claire stared at Cas in silent horror.

“Actually that reminds me-” Cas turned his whole body towards in Claire’s direction. “I wanted to give you those sigils as well for protection.”

Claire slowly leaned away in her chair. “Why….would I need protection from angels?”

Cas’ eyebrows furrowed. “There’s always a chance you might stumble into an angel related case, but most importantly you should be hidden from them in case anyone remembers your ties to me. You’re important.”

“Because I can function as your vessel?”

“That does put you in a lot of danger.”

Her whole body drooped as she sighed. “Great.”

“At this point I doubt that there are any angels that remember which bloodline begets my vessels, but I’d rather err on the side of caution.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No. You’ll never notice it.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Cas got up and positioned himself to stand directly behind her. Claire closed her eyes. He placed his hands on the top of both of her shoulders for a few seconds, and then he went back to his chair.

Claire opened her eyes. “You didn’t do anything?”

“I did and it’s done.”

She burst out of her chair, running her hands down her arms and looking over her body. “Everything looks the same.”

Cas smiled fondly. “Your ribs. You won’t be able to see anything without an x-ray.”

Her eyes snapped back up at him, wide with curiosity. “That was so cool! I can’t feel a difference.” She sat back down again. “What does the warding look like?”

“Oh.” Cas sat up straighter and glanced around the room. “I can draw them out for you, but…” He frowned. “We’re going to need to buy some pens and paper.”

That pulled a laugh out of Claire. “Figures. We need to go school supply shopping.”

Confused, Cas turned his head to the side just a bit. Then it clicked. “Yeah. We’ll need to go supply shopping.”

“So the warding will be enough to keep us hidden while we’re shopping?”

Cas sat back in the chair. “Technically, yes. The reason why it isn’t perfect is how angels communicate.” He touched the side of his forehead for a moment. “Dean calls it Angel Radio. I can turn it off when I want to, but in general angels can contact and find each other through our minds.”

Claire stared at him for several silent moments while his words processed, and then the gears turned. She glanced towards the living room.

“I don’t know if he’s connected,” Cas said simply. “And I don’t want to reach out to him that way until he’s older….and understands.”

“Huh.” Crossing her arms, Claire turned back towards Cas. “He’s really got us in a pickle.”

The puzzled look on Cas’ face was evident, but he chose to nod instead. Claire cracked a smile. “Hopefully Heaven is too scared of the idea of Jack that they’ll keep their distance.”

“Hopefully.”

After a quiet pause. “Sooo...does this place have decent WiFi?”

“I believe so. Kelly was frequently on her laptop.”

“Excellent.” Claire’s smile widened. “You wanna watch a movie?”

Cas’ expression softened. “I’d like that greatly.”

“Be right back then,” Claire said hopping up and leaving the room. On her way through the house she glanced at Jack sound asleep in his play pen. He was on his back, and the foot of a stuffed lion toy was clenched in his tiny fist. Amused, Claire shook her head and continued upstairs to her other duffle bag.

It was only a minute or two later when she descended down the stairs with her laptop charger clunking into each step. “Is there anything in particular that-”

Her voice cut off seeing the pained look on Cas’ face. He was seated on the living room couch, but he looked miles away. “Cas?”

Startled, his whole body uncharacteristically flinched. His blue eyes looked dull and sad. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you coming.”

Claire slowly walked over to the couch and put the laptop down at the opposite end. “Are you okay? You look sick.” She kicked the charger cord to the side and sat down on the middle cushion.

“I’m fine.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Wanna try that again?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I told you in the past that angels can pick up on more than just verbal prayers. Longing. Strong feelings of intent. They’re like…..indirect prayers.”

“Yeah. So who’s praying? Dean?”

Cas sighed. “He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but I can feel that he’s perturbed.”

“Well yeah.” Claire pulled her legs up, crossing them. She then turned her whole body in Cas’ direction. “Jody told me Sam is like ready to tie him down so he’ll stop clawing at the walls. He’s trying to find you.”

Mildly irritated, Cas shook his head. “He’s yet to actually pray to me so I can’t imagine he wants to speak to me that badly.”

“That’s fair. One point to Castiel.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at that.

“So why are we letting Dean sweat? What did he do?” Claire grinned. “Depending on what he did, I bet we can get Jody to boot his car.”

“I’m afraid to ask what that means, but I have no doubt that Dean would never speak to me again if we did such a thing to ‘his baby’.”

Claire shook her head. “Never mind that then.”

Cas took a deep breath. His gaze slid over to Jack’s sleeping form. “Dean and I didn’t part on good terms. I spent much of the past year tracking Jack’s mother. She wasn’t easy to find.” Cas’ head turned and he met Claire’s eye. He frowned. “And my original mission was to terminate the pregnancy.”

A sudden chill crept up Claire’s spine. “Oh.”

“Dean understood the complexities of my mission. I didn’t want to hurt Kelly, but….a child like Jack is…..he could cause a lot of harm.”

Arching her neck up, Claire tried to get a better glimpse of the baby. He seemed to be sleeping with his face squished into the playpen floor. “I get the idea,” she said quietly. “Archangel power. Prince of Darkness. But…” Claire pointed her thumb in Jack’s direction. “I don’t think he fits the bill.”

“When I did find Kelly,” Cas continued. “And I rescued her from Dagon, one of the Princes of Hell…..Jack called out to me. He showed me a peaceful world. A vision of the good he’ll be able to do.”

“And that’s why you’ve gone all dad mode.” Claire crossed her arms.

“He asked.”

“And Dean?”

“To hunt Dagon I had to trick Dean and steal a special gun he prized.”

Grimacing, Claire quipped, “I bet that went over well.”

“At the time him and Sam were pitching ideas of removing Jack’s grace.”

“What would that even do to him?”

“Make him human I suppose…”

“But you don’t know.”

“No. Not for certain. And Kelly wanted her son to be whole.”

Claire nodded in agreement. “She’s right. Jack should be allowed to be his entire self. No hiding. No changing or compromising for others.”

Cas smiled softly, and then it fell while he stared at his hands in his lap. “I suspect now that Dean is mostly upset about the disappearance act, but...I’ve been keeping the distance so I don’t have to lose everyone. My siblings already dislike both Winchesters.”

A small laugh escaped Claire. “Figures.”

“And….I do actually quite like this house. It’s peaceful here. Unlike their bunker...which is filled with rooms of unknown and dangerous items.”

A glint of excitement shone in Claire’s eyes. “Are you sure? Sounds like a fun place to explore and grow up in.”

Cas shook his head. “Jack deserves sunshine and windows...and a life unmarked by hunting…..well for as long as I can give him.”

Claire nodded, and they both sat there in silence with their thoughts for a while. Eventually, Claire’s eyes moved back to Cas and the sorrow exuding from him. “If Dean left the bunker to help you with Jack out here….would you want that?”

Cas was silent for a long time. Claire couldn’t make heads or tails of his expression. Eventually he spoke in a hushed whisper. “I miss him.”

“You should ask him instead of making his decisions for him.”

Cas’ eyes darted back to her for a moment. He stared, and then he pointed at the laptop. “So what kind of movie were you thinking?”

[ahgaseda]

pray | one

you are more than my existence, please listen to my prayer, hold me, tell me about myself, call my name so I can know who I am...

summary : everyone knows of the unspeakable evil that lives on the mountain, but you willingly sacrifice yourself to the demon named Jaebeom, as long as he takes you far away from the monster waiting for you at home.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, instances of blood and violence, graphic sexual content, black magic themes, potentially triggering elements that involve mentions of past child abuse, mental health, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

A demon lived in the shadow of the mountain. That was the legend you were always told. Each time as a restless child you wandered toward the woods, your mother - aware that scolding held little effect on you - would try to instill some sense of terror instead.

“The demon will catch you and drag you away,” she would say, voice a high shrill.

I wish he would, you often told yourself.

There were days you sat for hours on end, gazing into the darkness of the forest. You imagined wraiths and monsters and any other deadly creature that could devour you without consequence.

You wanted to be devoured. It was the closest to salvation from your father you would ever find.

It went without saying you had no friends. You were the strange little girl that would rather chase butterflies and climb trees, always lingering dangerously close to the forest’s border.

“She wants to dance with the demon,” other children would tease in a jeering song.

You paid them no mind. The woods enraptured you, beckoned you within her boughs. You would cup a hand to your mouth and send out a call, wordless notes that your soft voice would carry into the shadows. The woods would sigh, caressing you with wisps of wind that let you know your calls were heard.

Stamping your little bare feet, you would gather courage to enter. It was forbidden to enter the accursed forest, where black magic was known to breed. Though you considered yourself brave, you feared the punishments that would follow if you were caught. And for that reason alone, you returned home every time.

Not until you woke on a rainy day to find your mother gone were you finally driven to enter. Without her, there was no one to protect you. She had left you alone and defenseless with a man that drank away his sorrows. In your young mind, you didn’t blame her for saving herself, but you would resent her for it for the rest of your life.

Bare feet plodded across the fields. The kids threw rocks cruelly at you when you passed by, but you were much too fast. You heard their words, full of hatred and scorn, and kept running.

You reached the border, a small child staring into the gaping maw of the black forest. Survival pulsed through your veins. In that moment, you decided whatever lived inside the forest was far less dangerous than the man outside it.

“Please,” you whispered, hands clasped before you in prayer. “Grant me safe passage.”

Then, you stepped inside.

The first thing you noticed was the softness of the ground beneath your feet. The fields had been rough and coarse against your soles, but even now, something cooled your broken skin. You looked around in curious awe, the smallest rays of light piercing through the canopy overhead. When the mist hit the rays of light just right, little rainbows appeared in their wake.

You reached out, touching one of the trees. Dainty pink flowers grew from its bark, winding between your fingers. You giggled, marveling the buds and their tiny leaves. Birds alighted on every branch to chirp curiously at your presence.

Further in, you continued, turning in a circle as you walked, just to make sure you didn’t miss a single sight. It was like nothing you had ever seen or even dreamt of in your wild imagination.

Suddenly, the air cooled. The wind rushed. You rubbed your arms as your breath appeared like smoke. The birds disappeared into the heights of the trees.

You came to a stop, listening to the loud beating of wings. It sounded like a bird, a thousand fold.

The boy alighted before you, wings rustling at his shoulders.

You could hardly believe your eyes, mouth opening in shock. Surely before you stood a boy, no much older than yourself, but the similarities were few. Enormous black wings arched above his shoulders, still shifting as the boy levelled his gaze at you harshly.

“Why are you here?” he asked with impatience.

Your attention had landed on the dark curved horns sprouting from the top of his skull, then drifted to his skin. He wore no shirt, only trousers. You could imagine what a hassle pulling a shirt on over wings would be, but you moved your interest to the black ink in his flesh. He was covered in script from neck to fingers and everything in between, etched with a language you would never hope to understand.

“What are you?” you asked with a child’s naivety.

The boy tilted his head. “What do I look like?” he replied, almost menacingly.

The little fear you had promptly evaporated. Your lips parted in a wide grin and you giggled, exclaiming, “You’re a fairy!”

The boy’s brows stitched and the most incredulous frown took over his face. “A… fairy?” he exclaimed in disgust.

You raced forward, colliding into him and wrapping your arms around his bare waist. “I prayed to the woods for safe passage and she sent you to protect me!”

The boy grasped your arms and attempted to pry you off, adamant. “I’m not protecting you.”

“Of course, you are,” you said with glee, pulling your head back from his chest to peer up at his face. “The woods said so.”

Surly, he wrinkled his nose and barked, “I don’t listen to trees.”

You let your hands fall from his body, taking a step back. “Everyone knows there’s magic in this forest.”

Of all the creatures you expected to find, he was the last possibility. A child much like you, despite wings and horns and a host of tattoos in his skin. You marveled the script on his chest, but you knew it would be quite rude to ask for a translation at the moment.

“Dark magic,” he corrected sternly, striding forward and waving his hand. “Come with me.”

You watched him walk past you and didn’t hesitate to do as told. You followed the short-tempered boy back to the border, eyes on his long wings as you trodded behind him.

He pointed at the forest’s edge and cocked his head, clearly motioning for you to take your leave. “Now, go,” he snapped.

You turned sulky. “Can’t I stay a little longer?”

“No,” the boy replied without missing a beat.

You puffed up your cheeks and began to pout.

The winged boy furrowed his brow and asked, “What are you doing?”

You stomped your feet and grasped his wrist between your hands, tugging on his arm. “Let me stay!”

“You humans are strange,” he murmured under his breath.

You released his hand and broke into a sprint, breezing past him and toward the deep shadows of the forest. The boy rolled his eyes at your attempt of escaping him.

You didn’t get far and you gasped aloud when the boy appeared from overhead and landed squarely in front of you. It was hard to stop considering how fast you were going and you smacked against his hard chest, falling backwards onto the ground with a thud.

“Clumsy things,” he sighed, pretending to brush dirt from his shoulder.

You got to your feet, dusting off your legs, and looked up at him with amusement. “What is your name?”

“Jaebeom,” he replied, surprised at himself for being so forthcoming.

You gave him your name, though he did not ask for it.

“Mm,” was all Jaebeom said. Then, he turned and proceeded to walk away.

You trailed behind him and surveyed his wings again, finding them astounding in every aspect of the word. “How far can you fly?”

“Far.”

“How high?” you pressed.

“High.”

You scowled at him, finally getting irritated at his curt replies, and asked, “You don’t have many friends, do you?”

Jaebeom blinked, turning to you confusedly. As if your question had completely thrown him off balance.

“You seem like you don’t know how to have a conversation,” you explained, softening at his expression.

“There’s never been a need,” he replied sadly.

Your heart ached at that. It was a feeling you knew all too well. “I can be your friend, if you like,” you offered sweetly. “Your first friend!” At that, you extended your arm.

Jaebeom glanced down at your outstretched hand, clearly unimpressed.

You smiled with delight when he finally shook your hand. Even among his kind, the gesture was recognized.

Jaebeom shrugged, hiding his interest. “What do friends do?”

“Well,” you began, moving to his side as he continued to walk between the trees. “We talk and play and tell each other stories. We ask about each other’s day and…”

By the time night fell, you managed to draw the faintest of smiles from Jaebeom. And there was no way in hell you weren’t going to bring loud attention to it.

Pointing at his face, you exclaimed, “You smiled!”

He gawked and quickly deadpanned, “I did not.”

“I made you smile!”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes and deflected, “I’m only smiling because it’s nighttime now and that means it’s finally time for you to leave.”

You chuckled at his dryness, knowing by the aforementioned smile he had grown to enjoy your company. “Next time I’ll make you laugh,” you told him with a mischievous grin. “Just you wait and see.”

Jaebeom, who had been looking down at his feet pensively, reared his head up in surprise. “Next time?”

“Bye, Jaebeom-ie,” you called with a wave, stepping through the opening in the forest’s edge. “Thank you for making me forget how sad I was.”

Jaebeom’s face softened and his eyes burned with the threat of tears. “You were sad?”

But you had already run far enough not to hear him. Your heart was swelling, feeling joy for the first time in such a long time. This day, a day you swore would be the worst in your life, had become the best because of a winged boy named Jaebeom.

Jaebeom felt an ache in his chest. For the hours you spent with him inside the woods, you had been sad and yet you spent all of your energy simply trying to get a smile out of him. Jaebeom wanted to find whatever - or whoever - had made you sad and remove them from the face of the earth forever.

“Until next time, cheonsa,” he spoke softly before turning back to the dark loneliness of the forest and vanishing inside.

You could barely sleep. You thought endlessly of your new friend - your only friend. You told no one about him. Not that you had anyone you would want to tell.

Slipping into the woods became your happiness. You spent any possible hour hidden away among the trees. Jaebeom always sensed your return, as if the forest eagerly told him, and would join you within seconds of your entering. After a few months, you began to assume he waited near the border for you.

Together, you and Jaebeom grew from clumsy children to blossoming teenagers. Jaebeom was the first to notice the change. Suddenly, he was nervous to rough and tumble with you as he usually did. You were quite disappointed at not wrestling in the mud with him anymore, but to him, it seemed overnight you began smelling too good.

Though Jaebeom always playfully teased you, soon he was too awkward to do so. And you noticed how you began to win most of the rounds of verbal sparring. As you grew, your body changed shape. Feminine curves reminded Jaebeom you were becoming a woman and he was becoming a man.

Teasing turned to flirtation, which was dangerous. Jaebeom could tell you were receptive to his little touches and his occasional hungry remarks. He rebuked himself for not being more careful, for letting friendship drift too close to romance. Sadly, Jaebeom knew he could no longer prolong the inevitable.

On the morn of your seventeenth birthday, you escaped into the forest like any other day.

As you stepped inside her borders, you rubbed at tears with a rough hand. It had been torture at home. You were facing a fate worse than death in your eyes. Careful to never let Jaebeom see you cry, you dabbed at your wet cheeks with the sleeves of your dress.

Little did you know, Jaebeom perched in the tree above. His blood boiled. Someone had hurt you and on your birthday no less. He was angry, but stifled the rage for your sake.

Jaebeom descended before you as he always did. After years in his company, you never gasped in surprise when he landed just shy of you.

Flashing a smile, you greeted, “Good morning.”

“Is it?” he questioned, never giving an inch.

You shifted nervously and watched him move closer. “I’m a woman now,” you finally spoke, fighting back tears. “They have discussed selling me to a princeling or a lord. Some nonsense about me being beautiful.”

“Total nonsense,” Jaebeom retorted, trying to make you smile. Though the news made all the blood drain from his face.

“It’s strange,” you mulled softly. “Being sold like a broodmare. I’ve never felt more like an animal than I do today.”

Jaebeom grit his teeth. Fire licked across his skin.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, your voice trembled, “My aunt told me today that the first few times will be unpleasant. More than likely, the man who buys my hand in marriage will not care about my comfort.”

Jaebeom wanted to snap any man in half that hurt you and he snarled, “Why are we talking about this?”

“Oh,” you said, flushing with embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry. I was… thinking out loud, I suppose.”

Jaebeom regretted the harshness of his words. Clearly you were scared and he could do nothing to comfort you.

You spent the day with your only friend in somber, peaceful quiet. Jaebeom took you to all of your favorite places. The river to feed the koi, with their glistening scales of every shade of every color amongst the lily pads. The winding trees to see the newly hatched crop of vibrant parrots followed.

Even the rare red stag came to greet you, allowing your hand to touch his snout. You were hard pressed to find a creature as beautiful. You always gaped at him in awe.

Jaebeom’s eyes were on you, never wavering. He knew you would assume the visits to your favorite reaches of the forest would be in celebration of your birthday. Not in a final farewell.

He was letting you say goodbye.

When the sun began to set, Jaebeom led you to the border. You almost made him drag you.

“I… have a present for you,” Jaebeom finally said, rifling in his back pocket.

“Jaebeom,” you sighed. “I told you that wasn’t necessary.”

“Well, you told me that after I started making it so…,” he countered in feigned scolding. “I didn’t want it to go to waste. That’s all.”

You snickered. He was always deflecting and you expected nothing less.

Jaebeom wasn’t the only one who had noticed the changes in your bodies. You were well aware of the broad expanse of his chest, the bulging muscles of his arms, and the chiseled lines of his stomach. There were many times you had to resist the urge to slip into his arms. You wanted to feel the heat of his body against yours. It was maddening; the warmth that emanated from him.

Jaebeom finally handed you the tiny box, snapping you from your reverie.

Your heart fluttered. Tears pricked at your eyes before you had even opened it. Lowering your head bashfully, you whispered, “I can’t remember the last time someone gave me a gift.”

That wounded him deeply, though his expression stayed neutral. “Happy birthday, cheonsa,” was all Jaebeom said.

You could hardly believe your eyes as they blurred with tears. Inside the box was a ring. The dark stone was held by gleaming silver, small strands twisting like the roots of trees to hold the gem securely in its center.

“Jae…,” you breathed, lost for words. “It’s…”

“It’s a black diamond,” he explained anxiously. “They are supposedly very rare. Like you.”

You pulled the ring from the box, slipping it on your finger slowly. Were you even worthy to wear something of such value?

“You don’t like it,” Jaebeom groaned at your silence. “I should have known it was too dark. I can try to find something else.”

“Stop,” you replied, peering up at him as the tears escaped and rolled down your cheeks. “It’s beautiful.”

He was thrown by your emotion. “You’re sure?”

You wiggled your fingers, staring at the gift with affection, and whispered, “Never in my life have I seen something so beautiful.”

“I have,” Jaebeom blurted, immediately biting his tongue.

The admission was lost on you. “Thank you.”

He smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“I will cherish it forever.”

Jaebeom held up a finger. “One last present.”

“Jaebeom,” you started.

Before you could argue, Jaebeom swooped you in his arms and beat his great wings. You cried out in surprise, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you were carried higher and higher into the air.

The trees hummed, branches moving from his path as Jaebeom ascended even further. He had never flown with you before. Jaebeom knew he would have to be full grown before he could carry another person with his wings. Now, he was at the cusp of adulthood and to him, this would be his only chance to let you feel flight.

The two of you appeared in the canopy. You clinged to Jaebeom desperately, panting hard on his neck.

“Open your eyes, silly girl,” he teased, coming to sit at the summit of a tree and holding you securely in his lap.

You listened to the familiar sound of his wings relaxing, folding to his back dutifully. The air wisped past your ears and tasted crisp on your tongue. You had never been this high in your life, no matter how many trees you climbed in your youth.

Opening your eyes, fresh tears streamed down your cheeks.

The forest continued for miles and miles, stretching past what your vision could see. The horizon was endless. But at the center of your gaze was the ever-looming mountain. Its heights were hidden in the clouds.

“I never knew,” you stammered. “It’s such a big world.”

Jaebeom chuckled, his eyes on your face filled with such wonder. The sun’s rays reflected in your glistening eyes. Jaebeom knew in that moment he was hopelessly enamored.

You would never know the pain he endured for your sake. He could not survive in the sun. Even as he held you while the sunset splashed the sky with her colors, the sun punished him. The ink scrawled across his skin burned.

But he swore it was worth it to see the sky painted in your eyes.

You heard your name on his tongue and turned to meet his gaze, surprised above everything else when his lips touched yours.

Jaebeom had kissed you before, but nothing like this. Yes, his lips had graced your cheek or the corner of your mouth, and many times you pressed your lips to his brow or nose in playful flirting.

Nothing like this.

The surprise faded and you let your eyes flutter closed. Less afraid, you released your vice grip on his shoulders and slid your fingers into his dark hair, deepening the kiss.

Jaebeom lit a fire inside your soul, coaxing it to the surface with his heated kisses. You moaned softly at the push and pull of his hands kneading your back. The sound brought Jaebeom back to reality and without warning, he fell backwards, tumbling back through the canopy with you in his arms.

You yelled at first, terrified at the sensation of free-falling, but quieting when you remembered the man who held you could fly. His wings unraveled and punished the air with powerful beats, allowing Jaebeom to alight on a branch.

Jaebeom kept his hands on your waist, letting you regain your balance, and grunted when you melded your lips back on his. You tugged on his hair, hungry for the fire he made race through your veins. Jaebeom smirked darkly against your mouth, flicking his tongue between your lips.

Then, he remembered what he had to do.

When Jaebeom broke away, you swayed where you stood, steadied only by his rough hands around your waist, coaxing up and down your lower back. Had you known kissing was such a rush, you would have kissed him a long time ago.

Your eyes met and you giggled, bashful. Jaebeom lowered his head, hiding a smug grin, hair falling in his face.

“Please,” you sighed breathlessly. “Keep kissing me.”

Without another word, Jaebeom stepped from the branch with you in his clutches, using a single beat from his wings to land gracefully on the ground. His eyes burned into yours and the forest suddenly felt undeniably warmer.

Jaebeom lay you on a soft bed of grass, propping himself over you and kissing you tenderly. You were aware of his body on yours, how he had made himself comfortable between your thighs.

And you were content to kiss him for an eternity.

The playful teasing was long gone. The air was thicker. This was a mood you had never felt. This was intimacy, raw and unbridled. You were in the arms of the boy you loved and the only person you trusted.

With your fingers tangled in his long hair, you kept him trapped to you, humming softly at his lips melding with yours. You slipped your hands down his chest, tracing your nails over the endless ink scribbled expertly in his skin, and moved to grip his shoulders. Your touch wandered closer to his wings, feeling where the joints connected to his back.

The moment you touched their bases, the wings came alive at your touch, fanning and stretching overhead and rustling with excitement. You suddenly felt that no one had ever touched Jaebeom’s wings and the act itself was considered an intimate one. Jaebeom kissed you even harder, darting out his tongue to rub along your lip.

Jaebeom palmed your breast and your breath hitched. He broke the kiss to look into your eyes, assuring himself you were alright with his touch. You didn’t hesitate to grab his hand, steering it lower to the hem of your blouse and guiding him underneath to your bare skin.

You moaned softly when his hand settled on your naked breast. Jaebeom kneaded and caressed, rubbing his thumb over your nipple. His lips broke from yours and brushed over your jaw. When you felt his mouth on your neck, you arched into his touch and locked your ankles behind his back.

Something was happening between your legs - a tugging ache you had never felt before.

“Jaebeom,” you sighed, squirming beneath him. His kisses on your neck were making you crazy, filled with a need completely new to you.

You succumbed to the way he made your pulse race, undulating beneath him and roaming your hands restlessly across his body. His skin felt hot, scalding against your fingertips, like he was burning alive and you were to blame.

“I, um,” you hesitated, clearing your throat. “What if we…”

Jaebeom sucked beneath your ear and hummed, “Hm?”

You blinked, heart thundering against your ribs. “Can I give myself to you?”

Jaebeom’s eyes flickered at the thought, but his voice was firm against your neck. “No.”

Your heart sank, surprise sharply fading into disappointment. “But if I do, then they can’t sell it.”

Jaebeom met your gaze, nuzzling your nose with his own, and spoke sadly, “I can’t.”

You peered up at him through the haze, through the warmth the two of you had begun to make together. Questions and pleas raced through your mind, but all you could bring yourself to ask was, “Why?”

“It’s different for my kind,” Jaebeom explained, pupils dilated wide. “It means more to us.”

That stung and you did nothing to hide it. Lips trembling, you cried, “And it means nothing to me?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jaebeom said hurriedly, shaking his head and causing more hair to stray into his face.

You looked away, resisting the overwhelming urge to cry. You weren’t worthy of him. He didn’t say it, but that was how you felt.

Jaebeom felt you unhook your ankles and let your legs slip from his hips, and he knew he had made a mistake. He never was good at wording things properly.

He gazed down at you with longing, realizing the position he was in; you on your back beneath him, him laying between your thighs. Heaven knew he wanted you more than anything. He had never desired another person before in his life. Only you, for as long as he could remember.

But he couldn’t make love to you. If he did, he would belong to you forever.

Jaebeom sat up, lifting you with him. You pulled away from him once on steady footing and Jaebeom rubbed his thumb across your bottom lip. You lowered your head, nervous.

“I’m sorry, cheonsa,” he whispered. Jaebeom wanted to fall to his knees and beg your forgiveness. Here he was, desiring nothing more than to destroy any man who hurt you and yet he had cut you deep.

“Don’t be sorry,” you quickly told him, putting on a brave face. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Jaebeom knew that was a lie, but he didn’t challenge you. He cocked his head toward the border and you gave him a nod, dragging your feet as you followed.

Heading toward the forest edge, you turned back to him and asked, “See you tomorrow?”

Jaebeom grit his teeth, pushing down the surge of emotions threatening to crush him. “No.”

You blinked in surprise.

“Don’t come back here again unless you plan to stay.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Your heart vanished somewhere in your stomach. “What? Why?” you exclaimed. This had to have been nothing more than a cruel joke.

“When I reach full maturity, I have to take a bride,” said Jaebeom, avoiding your eyes.

“Jaebeom, you will never reach maturity,” you teased, trying to alleviate the sudden tension with humor.

Jaebeom tightened his hands into fists and forced the words out, “I’m serious. And if you’re the one that comes, then I will have no choice but to take you.”

You stepped away from the path, rounding on him squarely. Only a moment ago, you had willingly offered yourself to him. You had never felt so bemused and out of place. “Why is that a bad thing?”

“Because you deserve more,” he murmured, pained. “You deserve a life in the light. Not trapped in my darkness or my curse.”

Your face tensed with oncoming tears when you realized what all of this meant. You were being cast out from the woods and Jaebeom had not taken you, because he was saving himself for someone else. “I would rather be trapped in your curse than mine,” you countered, resistant.

Jaebeom shook his head and huffed, “He’s not a curse. You can escape him. Make a life for yourself. The simple life you’ve always wanted.”

Your lips trembled and you felt yourself breaking when you said, “With a man that hurts me?”

Your voice almost made him come undone. Jaebeom had sworn never to disappoint you. For years he wondered if you would be the one he chose to take when the time came, but after seeing you beneath the sun, he knew he couldn’t condemn you to an eternity in the shadows.

“Don’t try to change my mind,” he snapped.

You bristled with anger and shot back, “Why not? You want me to make a life for myself. Well, the life I want is with you.”

Jaebeom threw up his hands and angled away, resolve crumbling. “You don’t even understand what that means,” he shouted bitterly.

You had never confessed your feelings to him. Jaebeom was a vault, but you could feel him slipping away from you forever. “I understand that I love…,” you began shakily.

Jaebeom was on you then, covering your mouth with his hand. His eyes were scalding, filled with tears. “Don’t say it. You have no idea what I am and what I will become. You have always seen me as something good and kind, but I’m not. I’m far from it.”

You pulled his hand away, showing him no fear with how he had backed you against a tree, and said, “You’re a demon.”

Jaebeom blinked.

“I’ve known all along,” you told him. “My people tell tales of your kind. Demons live in the shadow of this mountain. It is why the forest is forbidden. Dark magic breeds here. The elders sing songs of the winged men that steal away the most beautiful of mortal women.”

Jaebeom backed away, surprised. “You knew?”

“Yes.”

Jaebeom’s face tensed with confusion. “And still you kept coming back here?”

“I’m not afraid of you,” you whispered, carding your fingers into his black hair. “I’m afraid of them.”

Jaebeom gathered you back in his arms and leaned his head against yours, eyes filled with tears. He was in physical agony. He couldn’t imagine being parted from your warmth for even a moment. All this time you knew what he was and yet you never feared him, never rebuked him for the monster that he was and would always be.

Then, he said, “Go.”

When his arms slipped from your body, you clutched him to you tighter and whimpered, “Jaebeom, you’re the only happiness in my life.”

“I mean it,” he hissed, spitting your name like venom. “Get out.”

You could do nothing when he pried you from him, pushing you backwards just enough to put distance between the two of you. The air turned cold. Winter had come in the fraction of a second. The forest seemed to shroud, cloaking itself in darkness.

“No, Jaebeom,” you shouted, planting your feet. “I know you love me.”

Jaebeom lowered his head, hiding his face and displaying his horns in aggression. Wings outstretched above him and the woods howled a piercing cry that made your blood run cold. He slightly lifted his hands, bold with ebony symbols and script, and thorns began to grow.

Rebellion filled you, but you were powerless. You wanted to defy him, but you staggered back, the darkness and thorns threatening to devour you. With one last look at the demon you loved, you turned and ran.

The shadow never stopped. It spilled over everything like ink. The thorns billowed and spread. You ran until you gasped for air, until your muscles ached. By the time you reached the edge of the forest, you landed on the grass with a thud, panting desperately for breath. The thorns swarmed between the trees, twisting and tangling with vines. You watched in horror as they finally stilled.

Rising to your feet, you approached the woods, placing your hand on the prickly stalks. There was no place for you to fit through. It was sealed away. Up and down you scurried along the border, looking for a weak spot. Even just a tiny place you could crawl inside.

There was none.

Tears fell down your face. You raked your hands through your hair, pulling the disheveled mess from your eyes, and screamed at the top of your lungs, “I hate you!”

The forest groaned.

You charged forward and pushed at branches, tore at the leaves. You clawed at whatever you could reach, trying to forge a path inside, and all the while you chanted bitterly, “I hate you! I hate you!”

Somewhere in the forest’s midst, Jaebeom crouched on the rough expanse of a branch, seated limply with his head hung low in shame. His wings lay at his side, lifeless and unmoving. The woods had never felt so cold then, so devoid of magic.

Your voice echoed. Those three words were a constant song in his ears, vowing to haunt him till the end of his days.

Not until the moon came to its full height overhead did you accept defeat. Dragging your feet home, you gazed at your bloodied, tattered hands. Wishing to avoid questions, you hurried to the nearest stream to wash yourself.

As you submerged your aching hands into the gentle waters, you heard the faintest of whispers in your ear. Unnerved, you stood sharply, looking around for who had spoken. Then, you cast your eyes down and gasped. Your hands had healed. Only small, faded scars were left in your flesh.

Smiling ever so softly, you turned to the looming forest in the distance. No matter what Jaebeom had said or done, the woods still loved you.

But still you cried yourself to sleep. You cried till you could shed no more tears. Slipping the ring from your finger, the only gift you had ever been given, you clutched it tightly in your fist and cradled your hands to your chest protectively.

For a moment, you had tasted magic and known what it was like to be safe and loved.

And as quickly as it came, it was taken away.

next chapter →

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[foxys-fantasy-tales]

Picking an Aster - Rilea Rariae Backstory (1)

A six-part series for my DnD character I've had for nearly two years now. These are largely unedited, so yes I know the dialogue tags are done wrong... Not taking hours to fix them. Just wanted to put this up because these two are lovable dorks and this is a nice story for Valentine's, or at least the start of it. Part one is below the cut.

In the Church of Aithne, even with its regimented, structured, rigid lifestyle, there was still some room for its practitioners to be human. Concerned with their futures. Enjoying their present, so long as it didn't violate their creed. All things must serve the cycle, and all things will return to it. The flaming ring of purification would see to that.

Rilea had always lived within these walls since the day she was born, and though they were pricelessly expensive and expansive walls, she didn't seem to be happy, not that it mattered to those around her. She straightened out her bright yellow and red dress and kicked up a heel that made it rustle in the multiple layers of heavy fabric. She felt confined in her body in it and scoffed at the colors. She brushed her fingers through her long black hair that faded to white around her shoulders and swept downward to under her knees in just a straight waterfall of hair with no substance or styling. She worried the hair would swallow all five feet of her someday soon if she wasn't careful.

One of Rilea's teachers, Moros, a tall dwarf but still short compared to her came to her with a smile in his big black beard reaching up through the thick waves of hair into his brown eyes. "Rilea," He called. "You can't just stay in the library forever. We have worshipping to do, discussion to have."

"Moros, tell me, why should I speak to someone who does not respond or hear me? I would rather learn what I can about our world this way than shout into the stonework for the umpteenth time." Rilea turned the page she was on without missing a beat, her eyes still skimming the pages as she spoke. It was repetitive now, a habit, like everything else since she was a child. Now at nineteen, she was much less concerned with the repercussions those around her may take for her speaking the truth as she saw it.

"The world out there isn't worth learning about," he retorted and came over to her at her desk. "It is in here, it is our worship to her that is worth doing. Out there is nothing but dragons, terror, and hardship. Here we have all we need. Perfection. Besides, we need to discuss what it'll be like for when you're wed."

She snapped the book shut and turned to him by sitting cattycorner in her chair. "I suppose the same as it always has been, minus the lessons.’ Don't go beyond the gates, do your nine hours of lessons and five hours of prayers each and every day, except the lessons will be switched in favor of whatever else you would all have me do with whoever you're picking out for me."

"There will still be lessons," he remarked without a hint of irony. "Just less so. It's important! You're the daughter of our goddess, we must find you a suitable being worthy of being your companion. We already have a few ideas."

"Why do you wish to speak to me about it when I know my input will be of no conceivable consequence?" Rilea sighed and flipped her book back open. Helia could be heard pattering across the floor from the bed to jump up on the desk and look around.

"What do you mean? You can choose your dress, your bouquet. Oh, the rings as well. Your suitors don't seem too concerned about it. Your input is highly valued!" He insisted and went to try and close the book again. "Come on, let's get out of here and to your studies."

"FINE." She snapped it closed louder as Helia jumped onto her head. "I'll have..." She thought a moment as she stood and walked away from him. "Morning glories all around. Only the darker shades."

"But those are....funereal?" Moros said, confused.

"I like them. You said my suitors thought it of no consequence."

"I'm simply....interested," he said as he thought of his next words carefully "in your choice of flowers. But very well, dark morning glories. And what of your maids?" He asked as he followed along now.

"What about them?"

"Their clothes, their flowers. Those things I'm sure you've read about multiple times," he asked condescendingly. As he finished his thought, one of the other girls in the Church came towards them and curtseyed towards Rilea. "Hello Rilea!" she called happily. Her name was Jane. She never did quite get over the Friends cantrip used on her as a child around Rilea’s age then. "Oh! Moros is she going to discuss wedding plans??"

"Apparently so..." Rilea sighed and patted Helia on her shoulder. "Their flowers? I have to pick even more kinds? Alright... How about a mixture of amaranths and purple basil?" Rilea made sure to note the colors of all she had picked in her memory. There would be no red or yellow allowed. It was a small thing, but something she could do against the church. All she had were her petty little victories.

"No roses? Lilies?" Moros asked concernedly. "One might be appropriate in your bouquet." He hinted, staring up at her casually, the exertion of power effortless for him.

"The colors wouldn't mix. Also, in that theme, I strongly suggest that the guest list, and well anyone in proximity of the event, be told to wear colors according to the theme."

"If...you're certain," he replied, visibly pained. Jane gasped and giggled. "Oh, this sounds sooooo pretty! The darker ones? Oh, it's going to bring out your eyes so well Rilea! I can't wait for my wedding."

Rilea tried to give the groundskeeper a small smile as she pranced around. "I'm sure it will be lovely, Jane."

She giggled back and pranced away while Moros was trying to find out a way to please Rilea while also sticking to his rigid beliefs. A vein bulged on his forehead with effort. "And you're...sure you....don't want to consider the rose?"

"Only if it’s black, then a rose is perfectly acceptable." Rilea continued down the hall, able to guess their destination by where he was leading her.

He was leading her to one of the worshipping rooms. However, when they arrived, there were four men standing up straight and presentable, each in a white suit of some description. Moros smiled up at her. "Here are your suitors my lady."

"Right." She noted without a hint of emotion in her voice. "And what pray tell do you wish for me to do with them?"

"Well you'll evaluate them, and each of them shall have their chance at wedding you. We shall of course ultimately decide, but it's important to see how they interact. We don't want to sign you up for a lifelong commitment without you knowing what you're getting in for," Moros said.

"Oh, you don't do you? I have been duped." She whispered so only he heard and looked across the line of prospects they had chosen.

They were four attractive men. One was a tiefling, one was an elf, one was a human, and one looked to be a half-elf. They all smiled prettily at her and Moros nudged her forward gently.

"Well, why don't you make your introductions?"

The tiefling started off. "Hello, Lady Rilea. I am Sansarbar," he said in an accent that placed him from one of the desert villages in Three Waters, lilting with a round sound around the "r's" ending with a flick of his tongue against the roof of his mouth. His mouth stayed very tight when he spoke, and his face was also very clearly trained to not show much of anything; proper and polite.

"Greetings Sansarbar. You have come a long way. May I inquire as to why you chose this?" Rilea's face remained as stone as well, but she was so used to it in herself and those around her she had her eye out for any cracks.

He licked his lips nervously and played it off with a laugh. "You're very proper. A lady with such good manners is rare," he said with his full blue eyes staring at hers, sapphire orbs set against the crimson of his face. "I have come this way because our family is very grateful to Aithne, may her flame burn ever onwards. Her blessings have brought us my siblings, a good passage for my uncle, and plenty of other great...great things. It would also prove beneficial to Emperor Draxas if our houses were to be joined."

"I see. I have heard some tales of the lands in the desert, as well as the ones by the sea. The desert is particularly troubled and its socioeconomic status has been threatened in recent decades, while the Empire flourishes beyond compare but for Namihari’s evasion. I am pleased to hear some good has come from my mother's guidance, yet I must insist that I myself, as well as you, are more than the names of our houses. Are we not?"

"Uh..." It was clear the tiefling wasn't prepared for such direct questioning. "I...suppose yes. Of course! What would you like to know?" He again laughed. It appeared to be a nervous tick.

Her brow raised just a hairs breadth. "I wouldn't know the first thing to ask of someone from the area of three waters. Tell me, then, what of it and yourself matters most to you?"

Sansarbar took the question without missing a beat and he shrugged playfully. "Of course, our lady Fila, goddess of the Land, is what is most important. She is who allows our desert to flourish and thrive, and it is she who allows us all to live." Close, but no cigar. It wasn't Fila, she was the goddess of water.

"I believe you are mistaken." Rilea's voice was now unabashedly condescending in tone. "Fila keeps you from drying up like little pieces of the jerky you are always consuming with her gifts of water, not land. Quite the opposite in fact."

Sansarbar choked on the bluntness. Jane giggled but covered it, and Moros tried his hardest to give her a blank mind with his glare, burning into the back of her head. Sansarbar stammered, "I-wait. No, I...I knew that...what..." He was visibly confused, sweat beading on his forehead now as he started to think about what could've just happened. Moros appeared then all smiles. "Well! Thank you Sansarbar. I believe it is time for this newest suitor to get to know you Rilea!"

"And what are your name and status?" Rilea turned to the half-elf looking man that was next in line, now no longer bothering to conceal her disdain as much since she had already talked back.

"I'm a humble worshiper, just as you are Lady Rilea," The half-elf spoke in a soft tongue. "I want to show my devotion by joining with you in marriage."

"So to show devotion to my absentee mother, you choose to marry her abandoned daughter. I believe there are more direct and better received ways of showing devotion to Aithne, for one, you already are in her main church, as such options are literally jumping off the walls at you."

The half-elf just blinked at her. "What better way than to devote myself to her own living daughter?"

"She has no connection to her daughter, so I am afraid the sentiment may be lost on her. Next." Rilea had a small fire going in eyes at this one as she turned away and toward the human man. "You have heard the drill by now, have you not?"

He nodded at her and smiled. "Yes, I have." He spoke gently. He had tan skin and hair as black as the void that he held back with a braid. His left side was covered by a cloak, also black, while the rest of him had such fine clothes on him. Silver vest over a white shirt, ruffled collar. His trousers were cut just above his ankle in the front, crisp lines and pockets with silver rivets at the top. He extended one of his hands to her cordially. "I am Astur. I have come from nearby, just a few blocks over actually here in Draconia. I hold no titles. I have no connections to anyone. I'm simply a suitor, asking after a girl. A very, very pretty one at that."

He held no malice in his eyes as he stared at hers, bright yellow with laugh lines at the edges.

She winced some as his eye color reminded her of all the shades of red and gold that had always swamped her life. She kept her hand close to herself as she waved his down and away from her. "Astur. Moros, why was he chosen? I believed you only cared for titles and drudgery."

Moros just smiled at her again, white teeth promising but never fulfilling. "I don't only care for such things. I wanted to provide two high born, and two lowborn who all want to take Aithne into their hearts."

Astur just chuckled. "Oh. If that's all I'm here for then I'm afraid you'll have to count me out. I didn't come here to woo a goddess, I came here to woo a girl."

Moros swallowed back a few words and spells and put his smile back on. "You can do both." He said through those teeth at Astur.

Rilea's brow moved half an inch inward as she turned back around and looked at Astur, and then craned her head to the last in line. "And you then?"

The elf blanched and then swallowed and then ran off in a panic through the doors. Moros sighed. "I....see the light of Aithne inspires awe in plenty of people."

"And some people can't handle beauty when they see it," Astur remarked.

"Compliments will get you nowhere. I hear high praises and lectures alike on a daily basis, but it seems you are the only one left for now. I wish to dismiss the self-absorbed but passing it as pious half-elf and the obviously confused and out-of-place tiefling."

The two bowed and took their leave, and Astur remained. Moros was...semi-pleased and clapped his hands. "Well! I suppose now is the time to leave you two be! Come along Jane," he said and led them out and the two of them were alone.

Astur visibly relaxed, letting his spine slouch a bit now that he didn't have to hold it so taut and he groaned as he cracked his back a bit. "Oh goodness. I've always heard the Order of Aithne was harsh but I didn't realize. I'm sorry you have to go through all this all the time."

"They have made certain I have known nothing else." Her voice was back to an even and bored pitch, as her face fell back into its usual stone carving state on her pale skin. "Would you care if I moved us to the gardens out back? I rarely get this much free time and rule of the place."

He motioned for her with a wave in front of him. "Lead the way. You know this place better than I do. I'd rather I didn't smack into any more Moros's."

"Then you would have to avoid near everyone here." Rilea turned on her heel and headed through the many corridors that led to the gardens, all flashy and lines with embellishments of gold or pots of roses.

"Are the gardens inhabited most of the time?" he asked.

"Mostly by Jane, you saw her just now, the giggly one. She is the caretaker for the grounds, and she has help but I swear they're more like shadows than people. If they see me they scatter. The higher clergy make up a large percentage of the population here as residents, and they could care less about the gardens. Sometimes visitors will go through, but again, not many people are allowed near me and they know it. They would rather avoid an accident."

"Accident sounds like a code for interesting," Astur remarked and smiled as she finished.

"Sounds like it'll be relatively private for us both. Even if I can feel their eyes peering into us even now."

"That never goes away. I hardly notice it half the time now unless I am actively on the lookout for it." Rilea didn't smile back. This man had a lot of grins in him, and she wasn't sure what type they were, but they were different from the fake plaster ones of her guards, or the worry from Moros.

Astur remained silent until they arrived at the garden, and he took a seat on one of the golden benches nearby. He plucked a rose and muttered some words at it, then handed it to her now that it was black. An audible gasp came from somewhere near and he chuckled at it. "Oh. Should I not have done this?"

Rilea cracked a hint of a smile and took it from him, careful not to prick herself or touch his hand. "The roses are only red and yellow here if you hadn't noticed. They say my mother likes them. Those colors have been thrust on me since my birth. I'm just another piece of her after all, living among them..." She gestured to the frilly and somewhat blindingly gaudy dress she wore in yellow with red accents.

"Sometimes I do this though." She snapped her fingers and the color changed from yellow and red to purple and lilac, then black and white, then a dark blue and silver, then back to purple again where she left it as she spun the rose between her fingers.

Another gasp. "They don't like it when you play with their things do they?"

"Even if it’s myself. I once used art scissors to cut my hair as a child, as I hear many do actually. They confined my classes to my room for months after that, which is the only time I am out of my room as well. I couldn't even see the flowers all spring long into summer." She pulled at her hair. "They keep it how they like it."

His eyes widened as he heard that. "They won't even let you cut your hair?" He breathed, almost to himself, taking in that idea and processing it. "What...kind of goddess wouldn't let her daughter cut her hair?"

"I wish I could answer that, but as you may have heard me mention to the zealots, my mother has little to nothing to do with me." Helia popped her head out from Rilea's hair on her shoulder. "Except for you, of course, Helia."

"Oh!" Astur cried. "Oh, they're adorable. May...May I pet them?"

"Oh." Rilea looked over to Helia, who jumped down into her lap and stared at the man without moving.

He reached out his hand tenderly, gently. At the edges of his eyes was the littlest bit of excitement peeking through, and he didn't realize he held his breath as he wondered if Helia would let him touch her.

Helia bowed her head down before his fingers met, but only the slightest bit as those big black orbs peered up at him and her head tilted. Rilea stayed still and let Helia decide until his fingers brushed the too soft fur.

He held back a squeal but he petted her gently and gasped. "This is the softest thing I've ever touched."

"Helia was made for me by my mother. Only thing I could ever thank her for. She’s a spiritual being made of cloud and natural light."

"She's a little cloud!" He sighed again and cleared his throat to compose himself as he pulled his hand back. "She's adorable." Then he looked back at Rilea, "But I figure you'd prefer if I talked to you instead of your pet."

"I don't mind much either way. This is just an excuse to have some extra time on my own, well as much my own as I can." Rilea scratched behind Helia's ears and the fox let out a yip.

"It's important. I'm even more determined to marry you now if only to get you away from here. This is no place for....anyone." He whispered to her, hoping the others couldn't hear but also not. "Well, tell me about your life here as well."

"If you truly end up wishing to wed, I believe you would have to be set to be tied to this place as well. As for my lifestyle, you've seen it all already. I have classes all the time on every subject you can name, get lectured and glared at by Moros, and have a little alone time with Helia here in the garden or in my room late at night."

"You'd be surprised. I have a way of getting people out of a jam," he replied. "Moros seems like a real treat. I've never seen a dwarf who smiles as much as him like that."

"It helps his confidence I think. Not many accepted his rise in the ranks when I was younger I heard."

"Nervous tic then..." He said, and seemed to file that away. "Well, do you want to hear anything of me, or would you prefer quiet company? Or, if you like, I can leave and return some other time."

"You would actually do that? I thought your intent today was to 'woo' me." Rilea scoffed and Helia curled up in her lap for a nap.

"You seem the type whose wooing is subtle. I've made my appearance, I've somewhat gotten your interest. That's enough for today. Besides....it feels wrong to force myself to blather on about myself when it seems all you ever do is listen to people blather."

Rilea sat for a moment and spun the rose around again. She was suspicious as hell, but she kept her face cool. "I like to hear stories from the lands outside of here, or even from our own cities. I wouldn't mind if you lingered to disperse some information."

"I have many stories. What would you like to hear about?" He offered.

"Hmm... where did you learn this?" She held up the rose in front of her face, her startling purple eyes with tiny black vertical lines for pupils and less white than around a normal eye blinking over the petals. "And what is your favorite place out there."

"I'm fond of a place a few days travel to the southwest of here. Beautiful, giant orange flowers far as your eye can see. It's just....." He paused for a moment, his throat thick as he swallowed past it. "It's just so stark to all the green and brown and white and grey within the Empire. It's a little splash of color. I like to imagine it's the earth rejecting a little." He pointed at the rose and it turned orange. "As for where I learned how to do that, my father taught me."

"Your father..." Her tone shifted a little and she leaned back more comfortably on the bench. Helia perked a little. The orange rose was set down and the fox nipped at it.

He smiled and nodded, sighing nostalgically. "Yes. He taught me everything there is to know about magic. But he...always had a fondness for that spell. I must say, it is nice. Changing colors is very useful more often than not."

"It wears off quickly when I attempt it. Will this flower fade?" Helia pawed at it and Rilea took it back in hand, pricking her finger exactly like she was trying to avoid before in her haste.

"Oh, your ha-" Astur cried, but too late. Someone was already there with a bandage and soothing words, wrapping it around the wound needlessly as they changed the words to close the wound. "Oh. Expeditious recovery seems nice."

Rilea repressed her grumble as she waved the person away and tore off the needless bandage once they were out of sight. "There are a handful of times they haven't been there instantly, and it always seems when actually needed."

"Such as?" he asked, genuinely interested now. "They seem to be at your beck and call. It would be the upside of being watched I'd imagine."

"Most notably when I was a child. I was almost assassinated in my bed. It took them perhaps five minutes to reach me, but in those minutes lingered a lifetime."

"Is there a god with who Aithne is enemies?" He wondered.

"None that I know of, but I doubt they would speak of such unless told to fight them."

"Not sure who would pick a fight with the goddess of life and death....seems a fool’s errand." He gave her a sympathetic look. "That must've been incredibly frightening."

"It was worse for the assassin." She stated simply and sighed.

"True. You're alive and they're not. It's...unfortunately the law of what I've seen. Even in the so called civilization of the Empire. Death is....permanent." There was a deep, deep wound when he spoke about death then. He swallowed it down, but one could see the torment boiling under his skin, those laugh lines tensed and hardened.

"Is something the matter?"

"I'm not very fond of death. It has left a wound in me that has yet to heal. It's a shame resurrection is forbidden." He sighed and shrugged. "But it's the way of things."

"Was it your father?" She asked with not much empathy or delicateness. Her social ineptitude was beginning to show, even as easy as this person seemed to talk to.

He took it in stride, even if the tact was lacking. "No it was...my friend." He sighed and shrugged. "But don't worry about that. I'm not here to talk about all the pain of my past. What do you like to do when you're not being watched?"

"I..." She trailed off and her eyes got wider. "I usually read or play with Helia, but what I would like to do more of is practice my magic. I can feel it within me and it has come out on a number of occasions, but all my classes here are about suppression or the effects of the toxicity if you fail that. People have mutated or died outright at the worst of it."

"What do you mean feel within you?" He asked, a little confused. "You mean you don't harness the raw magic around us?"

"I think with the circumstances of my birth it is a little more complicated than that."

"Is it alright if I ask what that means?"

"I'm not certain myself, I just feel it. The few things I can cast came innately. I never studied the things I can do. They wouldn't allow it. Thankfully it saved me that night with the assassin, as I stared in fear and they dropped to the floor cold."

A few moments passed while he processed that information. "I have to admit. I've never met one like you before."

"One what?"

"A sorcerer." He remarked aghast. "Wait, they won't even tell you what that means?"

"They... just told me my power is derived from my mother."

"I suppose there's a chance...but they don't tell you what that power is..." He scoffed. "That's cruel."

"I haven't ever thought them any different since I was a child. They have always been cruel."

"I can see that...." A full pause held between them for a while as he shifted in his seat. The birds chirped around them, oblivious to the stirring emotions below them. It was strange, all this peace outside while Astur felt a slow, simmering rage within him. It furthered his resolve. "If you allow me to marry you, I'll get you away from here."

"What?" Rilea blinked and her eyes shrunk some. She hadn't noticed the calls of the birds for some time now. She hated them and their wings, but the way he looked up caused her to as well. "I... that's a rather large request."

"It's not a request, it's a promise, though it is your decision. These gods have kept us all under their rule for too long. I find it fitting to act in a way rebelling against them. Even if it is a small thing that may not work out in the end at times."

"I know they will force me to choose eventually... but I planned to play my hand denying you all for as many years as I could until they forced someone on me, or by any chance I may find someone. I don't even know what that looks like."

He guffawed at that. "I see, so...I never had a chance to begin with. Why talk to me then?"

"You seemed a decent distraction and chance to wander rather than listen to Moros for the afternoon."

"I'm glad to provide some amount of good then." He sighed and looked out at the edge of the garden, extending out into a great field of green grass, dotted with white, purple, yellow, and orange flowers. Astur pointed at it. "Do you see those flowers out there?"

"They're past the gates... so never closely." She twirled the orange rose and then tossed it as Helia ran and picked it up, seemingly unperturbed by the thorns as she carried it and ran in a few little circles.

"Pay attention to the colors. Do you see red or gold there?" He said as he took her close and pointed harder, trying to have her eyes follow his finger.

She tensed when he brought her closer and stared. "No, I don't." Helia continued to prance about with the new colored rose.

He let her go as he felt her tense and he cleared his throat. "So there you have proof their rule isn't absolute. Not even the goddess of fertility can fully control the plants. She can only direct it. Same as anyone." He smiled at her again, but this time there was an edge to it, like his canines were just a bit too long. "The power we grant anyone is only as much as we decide it is. It is ours to take when we wish." Then he got an idea. "Why don't I teach you a spell?"

"What?" She repeated in much the same tone as before as her head and flowing hair whipped around side to side looking for those lurking in the area. "I don't know how that's going to happen."

Astur calmly shrugged and began to pull out a quill and scroll from a pouch at his hip. "I'll

write down the somatic and verbal components. You say you have innate ability, you should be able to learn this just by reading it."

"I. Suppose." She leaned in closer to peek as he wrote. It was the first time someone seemed so giving with her, but she still couldn't help but find the man suspicious for such things. She narrowed her eyes and as he was focused cast the friends cantrip. She looked up with her big eyes as Helia pounced back in her lap. "You wouldn't have any reason to lie to or try and use me for gain like the others, would you?"

"None whatsoever," he replied still looking at the paper. He was a lot more relaxed around her, placing his arm over her shoulders as he finished. "I'm just a simple man, who wants to do some good in the world. No one else seems to want to nowadays." He held the written words for a spell in front of her. "There. Uh...” He thought for a moment. "Go ahead and target that fountain there."

She gasped lightly as his arm went around her shoulders and Helia stared up at them with the flower still in her maw. Rilea looked over the spell for a moment. Any knowledge she could gain may help her eventually, so it was worth a shot. "Ok..." She steadied herself and stared at the large fountain before speaking the words.

She felt a presence coming near as some of the water shot out in a jet toward her and she saw his hand manipulating it, but before it could hit her the spell activated and the water glanced off what seemed to be just blank space in front of her, but as she touched it felt hard like a shield.

Astur smirked at that. "Congratulations, you know the shield spell now." He chuckled and leaned back. "I can't cast that one myself. I just know the words, but I can't seem to grasp it correctly in my hands. But for you...that felt effortless didn't it?"

"I... barely noticed what I had done." Rilea blinked, stunned at the manifestation before her as it dissolved. "What else can you do?" Rilea felt the stares of the workers and watchers at herself and the large puddle now before her along with the 'discolored' rose.

He muttered again a few arcane syllables and flicked his hand around before a shimmering purple hand appeared before them. He sent it all the way out into the small crowd that had gathered and they yelped as they got out of its way. He got a glass of something cold to drink before pulling it back to him and handing it to Rilea. "I only have the spells I've practiced they too are effortless at this moment. But this is one of them. A few....defensive measures I have as well."

Rilea was more attentive at listening than he had seen her as of yet as she took the glass and sipped from it while staring at him. He was a repository of magical knowledge she hadn't been able to grasp all this time but for some flukes. "I have a few of those as well."

He grinned at her conspiratorially. "It would be fun to see it. It'd turn all these stiff faces white as the sheets they're trying to imitate."

Rilea let out a small gasp and folded her hands around the cup in her lap. "I can't. I could... I could kill someone. They are annoying and perpetually in my way and bossy and- but I couldn't just attack the workers in that way. However..." She took a couple breaths and used prestidigitation to create a rainbow of different colored pixies fluttering around the garden and the heads of the workers, all but red or yellow. A number of dark purple magic morning glories filled around the flower beds, but given they were illusions they didn't budge the real roses aside or harm them in any way.

His eyes widened at the grand illusion but also waved his hand as he heard what she said. "Oh! Oh no no, I don't want you to kill anyone goodness. Just. Like break the fountain there with a fire bolt or something. Is...That not what you can do?"

"It is why I have been convinced what they told me about my power from my mother being the truth. I can call upon a holy radiance to hurt all those near me, or I can... cause a lot of damage to a living being at a distance, very likely killing them if I try. It's what happened that night I mentioned with the assassin. I can also make these illusions, or I can boost people's opinion of me for a short time."

"Those....are all divine magic, except the last..." He fixed her with yet another look. It wasn't judgement though. It was the kind of curiosity a child gets when they see something very interesting for the first time. "This is rare indeed. I've heard of maybe two others like you with an innate understanding, but neither were born to gods. I'm curious about you definitely. I've had to study for a long time to even grasp a bit of my magic. Do you feel the Blight at all?"

"I never have, though upon my first castings everyone around became very fearful of it. I've been lectured endlessly about it for as long as I have had access to these skills, and any time I came across something new they made sure to re-double my lessons on the subject." She pressed her hands and knees closer together as his eyes focused more on her.

He shifted his gaze away then, to the rest of them and he realized what he'd done. "Oh. I'm sorry, then. It seems I may have caused more trouble for you....but then again. They can teach you all they want but they can't take that part away from you. You know it now. I hope you're able to use it to benefit yourself."

"To use..." She nodded slowly and brought Helia closer to her to hold her. "Perhaps... someday."

"So why do you favor the morning glory?" He wondered. An acolyte started to walk towards them with reverence though, and he approached Rilea. "Your Grace....I do believe it is time to return to your studies."

Astur scoffed. "What do you mean?"

The acolyte was stunned. He had never had this order questioned before. "It is important the Daughter of Aithne learn all she can so she is prepared for the outside world," he replied incredulously.

"Isn't allowing her to be social also good for her preparations? We're having a conversation here, and you see it fit to get in the way of the Daughter of Aithne?" His anger was becoming more apparent the longer he talked, and by the end he was nearly shouting the Acolyte down.

Rilea shrunk back a little from the yelling, as much as she wanted to join him, as much as the anger at being treated less than human burned within her for so long, she had no idea how to let it out anymore. She had been compliant but for her small victories for so long now, just so she had the chance to have even the smallest things she desired or an ounce of privacy at night in her own room. She chose to answer his question before he may be forcibly removed.

"I favor the morning glory because... I relate to it. It represents death but also striving for life... It stands for a failed love and doesn't have a long lifespan. They are a constant reminder of mortality and the fruitlessness of affections on those who will only wilt by nightfall." Her voice was small and unwavering as she said the statement as you would any other fact from a book, even if it was personal in nature in relation to it being a thing she liked. "The purple ones carry a bulk of the more serious meanings, but many argue over a variety of meanings for the flower, always speaking over it... The purple hue is also... pretty."

Astur glared at the Acolyte while she said all of that and then the Acolyte turned away. Astur fixed himself and turned back toward her. "That's quite a reason. Most people just like the flowers for their color or shape. Did you read that about them as well?"

"Flower symbolism is important in ceremonies and gift exchanges. I was given a few books on the subject years ago to aid my choosing for such matters. I am sure Moros is regretting that decision with my recent choices for the wedding he has planned." Rilea's eyes followed the acolyte's path. It wasn't often they would retreat like that, and the few times she had succeeded as a child led to nothing good later on.

"Don't worry. He won't remember." He pointed out.

"He... Won’t remember?" She set Helia down, but the fox just climbed onto her shoulders.

"Not a thing. If anything, he'll be reprimanded for not talking me down." He ruffled his jacket on his shoulders and shifted again. "I have no patience for blind worship, and have and will continue to use my powers to move them out of my way."He laughed. "Oh goodness. I'm probably not making myself out to be a very good candidate am I? I expect a bolt of smiting light to hit me at any moment for my heresy."

"I would not be so hasty on that. My mother has only spoken to me twice in my lifetime. Her orders to this church as sparse as well. I doubt she is listening in, and even if she were her record states she would do little to you. As for your candidacy... you are the most interesting person I have been able to meet face to face before, though Moros will surely not invite you back after all this."

He leaned in and spoke very quietly, so no one else could hear. "I don't need their invitation. I need yours to come back. If you'd want."

"I... have very little say except in the few matters they do delegate to me. I would like to speak with you again. Your conversation has been useful and enlightening, as well as a fine distraction." She stood as Helia yipped and dropped the rose to the ground when she opened her muzzle. Rilea straightened out her dress and let the colors fade back to what they usually were as she shut her eyes and felt the air and sun on her for a moment.

"I'll take that." He replied and stood and gave a deferential bow. "Oh. I did bring you a gift." He held out a book to her. The Cover Read Azimar's Children's Tales. "Don't open it until you are in your room. It should provide good dreams to you."

"I suppose you were unaware, but I don't dream. It is part of my being a Kalashtar, a child born of someone of this realm and one beyond." She winced for a second before her face became as stone again and she took the small book in her hands. It wasn’t entirely true in her case, as she saw not blackness or dreams in her slumber but horrible visions nightly for as long as she could recall.

"Then things to contemplate." He flashed his bright smile and tapped the book.

Moros appeared then, all smiles and waved Astur out insistently, but politely. "Thank you for your time Astur. Many blessings. May the fire of the circle keep you warm." Astur winked at Rilea and headed off.

Moros turned to Rilea with pursed lips. "I'm...not sure he's worthy of you my lady."

"Then I suppose you were not dedicated enough in your research of the participants you selected this day." Rilea scorned him as she clutched the book and bent to pick up the flower before heading off toward her room. "Either way, I have told him I wish to speak again."

"Wh-WH-b-But my lady. He openly mocked Aithne. He has brought the toxicity of the Blight into this very temple!" Moros cried, unable to hold up his polite veneer, instead the true cowardice shining through in his words.

"Where? What has this blight actually caused to pass? As for my mother, he said nothing untrue of her. More than I can say for yourself."

This stunned him into silence as she walked away from him. As she left, Jane hurried up to her from her hiding place giggling. "He was certainly interesting wasn't he?"

"Uh-" Rilea balked at the sudden appearance and clutched the rose causing it to pierce her once again, though she hid it at her bosom. "He was... very different."

"And very handsome. That hair. Ugh. Though...it is a shame the way he talked about Lady Aithne. Maybe you can help him see the right way. You could write letters!" She clapped her hands together with that cheery look on her round features and golden curls.

Rilea pursed her lips before speaking. "Perhaps. I have seen fit to invite him again, though we shall see what the church thinks of that in the end..."

Jane was shocked. "You can't invite him back! Well...at least not for a permanent thing. Goodness Rilea. He besmirched your mother!"

"He said nothing but the truth. I do not see that as besmirching, rather covering up her transgressions and fallacies, be she a goddess or no, should be a crime." Rilea frowned and continued on past Jane toward her room. "I never said it was permanent, just that I said I would be pleased to speak with him again."

She was left in Rilea's dust, and the halls were hushed as she went past them, wondering what to do about this latest intrusion. When Rilea would arrive at her room, suddenly the illusion dropped, and it was nothing more than a diary. Blank pages throughout, leather bound and smelling of the freshness of the paper.

She blinked at it as she flipped through the pages. "A notebook? Why would he gift me paper?"

As she finally reached the end, another spell awaited her. On top of it in scrawling handwriting were the words "My first spell”.

"What?" She sat down on her bed while still staring at the pages. This man was an enigma, unlike the brainwashed straight arrows of the church. She ran a finger down the page and read about the process, then the singular word that caused her hand to tingle as she said it aloud. She opened her eyes to see the cuts from her rose had vanished but for the tinge of blood on the thorns. She smiled softly in a quiet excitement and placed the rose in a vase, front and center of all the red ones they always shoved in her room.

[untaemedqueen]

To Begin Again

Idol!Yoongi x Makeup Artist!Reader

Request:  Hey. Can I please request a story where the reader is their new makeup artist and she falls in love with Yoongi after he rescues her from her boyfriend one night. And Jin is her best friend. Thank you so much!

WordCount: 6.6k

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Idol!AU, 

Warnings: Reader Experiences Both Domestic and Physical Abuse, Excessive Cursing, 

A/N: Please don’t read if you feel uncomfortable with domestic abuse

The prettiest thing about makeup, in your opinion, is how it can give someone confidence. Although, with your new job you didn't need to give your clients confidence. They had that and some. 

"I got you a green tea!" Your best friend announces as he steps into the green room. You turn to him, eyes alight with happiness as he hands you the warm cup. 

"Thank you!" Your hands cupping the warm drink as his younger brothers file into the room. 

"Thank you, the most handsome man in the entire world." Jin looks at you as he sits down on the leather couch. His eyes staring expectantly as you sip your green tea. 

"Uh huh." You say making Namjoon snort as he sits down next to Seokjin. 

"Wah. Such a brat, like I didn't help raise you." Jin mumbles as Jeongguk sits in the chair. It was pretty much true, Seokjin didn't help raise you but he's been your best friend for most of his life. He was your next door neighbor for the longest time, until you moved to America. You had gotten back in touch a few years ago when you reinstalled Kakaotalk upon your arrival to Korea. You had told him about your interests in the beauty world and Jin being the best friend he is, got you into his company. At first you were an assistant but after their makeup artist left to go work for Dior, you snagged up the spot due to Seokjin's incessant nagging.

"Good morning, noona!" Jeongguk chirps taking out his Airpods.

"Morning, doll." You mumble grabbing his kit. Your eyes are looking in the mirror, looking over each handsome face before finding the one that makes you feel at peace. His aura was so calming. Something about him just radiating this 'I don't give a fuck' energy that makes you interested. Yoongi's eyes meet yours in the mirror before smirking and closing his eyes. You grab Jeongguk's foundation before stepping in front of him. 

"You didn't shave." You chide him before caressing your finger over his stubbled chin. Taehyung pats at his chin out of the corner of your eye before frowning and kicking his legs. 

"Sorry, noona. I was really tired." Guk whispers before opening his eyes and looking up at you. Your eyes meet his brown orbs before smiling as you collect foundation on to the disposable makeup sponge. 

"What game were you playing?" You inquire, making him smile. Jin knew you would be good with everyone, you had a comfortable aura around you. You could get along with a feral tiger if you needed to. You lift Jeongguk's chin with your finger as he giggles. 

"Battlegrounds." He whispers before closing his eyes again. You take the sponge delicately to his skin. 

"And did you win?" He nods happily as you cover up the birthmark on his nose. 

"Make sure you shave tomorrow." He chuckles before giving you a thumbs up. "I promise."

"Ten minutes to set!" Yoongi hops in the chair. His small eyes flickering over to you before clearing his throat and folding his arms. You never said anything to one another. It was always just silence, whether it was comfortable or uncomfortable was the question for everyone. Your fingers diligently rub primer on his oily skin before grabbing his foundation. His eyes darting to your backside before licking his lips and closing his eyes as he straightens up in the seat. There's a mirror, Yoongi. You can see him. You used to talk, admittedly not so much but you used to. When you first started working for Big Hit he would make small conversation. Jin thinks he saw you with your boyfriend one day and that's why he stopped. You don't have an opinion on the matter, or rather you couldn't. His eyebrows furrow as you begin to put on his foundation. He was, to you, the epitome of everything beautiful and it's a shame he doesn't talk to you.

Your phone rings once more as Yoongi steps into the green room. His eyes on the white table as your phone vibrates. He looks around the empty room before waltzing over pretending to be grabbing a tissue as he peers down at your phone. The incoming call screen stops before noticing the 64 missed calls from Jungkwon. 32 new texts and Yoongi takes a sharp breath between his teeth. His thumb pulls at the touch screen. Sliding down the text notification as he looks back at the door. 

'You better fucking answer your phone, you little slut.' He furrows his eyebrows before pulling down the notification bar. 

'How dare you fucking ignore me.' 

'I brought you into this country I'll fucking ship you back to your miserable little America.' Yoongi's hand bawls into a fist before clearing his throat and stepping back. 

"Hyung. We're late!" Namjoon yells as he rushes past the doorway. Yoongi hums before tilting his head. Who might this fucker think he is?! He scoffs before grabbing his iced Americano and leaving the green room.

It was cold today, your big black cable knit sweater clinging to your body as the boys enter the set. Run BTS was known for little to no makeup so it's the easiest day out of the whole week. Yoongi eyes you delicately as he enters the room behind Jin. Jin's arms hugging you tightly and Yoongi watches as you flinch away from him before smiling. He sits down on the couch, jaw taught as he rubs his hands together as you giggle at something Seokjin says. Yoongi's eyes were small but they weren't blind. A streak of makeup on your neck alerts him, what have you tried to cover up? He clears his throat before tilting his head as your phone goes off. Your body stiffening before grabbing the device and shutting it off.

"How's Jungkwon?" Seokjin asks as he sits down in the chair. You give a big smile, the apples of your cheeks tinting pink. 

"He's great!" You're lying. Yoongi can tell, your body is twisted strangely and he scoffs gently before grabbing his phone and trying to distract himself. Something is wrong and he hates it.

Yoongi plops down in the chair as you give him a small smile. His eyes falling to your neck as you grab his primer. 

"Noona. You dropped something." Jeongguk tells you, your sweater lifting up as you bend over to grab a makeup sponge. Yoongi takes a deep inhale as your back is revealed. Deep red and purple patches litter your lower back. He grabs at the bottom of your sweater before pulling it down, his eyes on the mirror making sure no one saw. Everyone was invested in their own world and you gasp as you pull away from him. 

"Thanks." You whisper before clearing your throat awkwardly. His wrist grabs yours before looking into your eyes. His eyes look pained, simply searching your eyes for you to express that you need help. You pull your wrist away before putting the primer on a sponge and continuing on with your job. He says nothing, his eyes staring at you in the mirror before fixing his beanie. You would never ask for help. You got yourself into this and maybe, just maybe you deserve it.

You turn your phone back on as the boys leave the green room. You were alone finally, your fingers shook as you set down the phone. Hands forming into a prayer as you press then to your lips. You were nervous, Jungkwon had probably called you a bunch of times. Probably texted you a bunch, too. You would be punished when you got home. It wasn't always like this, you met Jungkwon in America. He was on vacation with his friends. He was really handsome, and super sweet. He said all the right things, flattering you and buying you small presents to tell you how much he liked you. You surprised him with your high level of Korean and your charming aura. He stayed with you even after his friends left the vacation. He seemed to adore you and you fell in love with him. 

Then, he asked you to come back to Korea to live with him because he couldn't stand to be away from you. You loved him and agreed to come back. You got back in touch with Jin and everything went pretty smoothly. That was until Jungkwon started drinking heavily and you got your job at Big Hit. He wanted you to be home before him, to cook for him. Lay in bed and wait to be fucked. He wanted your subservience and you couldn't give that to him. So, sooner or later you had become a punching doll. A creature for Jungkwon to take his anger out on. You had grown scared, as anyone would but you couldn't leave him. He had threatened you several times and you couldn't tell Jin or anyone for that matter because Jungkwon had warped your mind to making you think it was all your fault. There's something incredibly powerful about the human brain isn't there? The way it reacts and changes to fear. When you weren't home, it was as if you were free and your mind wouldn't dare dwell on what would happen when you stepped foot into your cheap apartment. Your phone goes off, vibrating on the table loudly as he calls you. Your throat chokes up, nails digging into the palms of your hands before clearing your throat and answering. 

"Hello?" 

"Where the fuck are you? You little slut!" You close your eyes, your body beginning to shake from your nerves. 

"I'm at work, I'm sorry." You whisper, rubbing the hem of your sweater between your fingertips as you look down at your lap. Hot tears prick at your eyes as you squeeze them shut. 

"You better beg for my kindness when you get home. Fucking little cunt. I want you on your knees as soon as you step through that door. Do you understand me? Or I'll beat you blue. Do you fucking hear me?!" You whimper before tilting your head and exhaling gently. 

"Yes. I hear you." 

"What'd I say then?" You suppress a whimper as you put your hand to your forehead. 

"Be on my knees when I come home or I'll be beaten blue." 

"Fucking cunt." The phone call is over and you put your hands over your face as your phone falls into your lap. You look through your fingers into the mirror. Yoongi stands in the doorway, his hands in fists as he stares at you through the mirror. He cracks his neck before shoving off of the door post and leaving. 

"Y/N. It's 70 degrees out, why're you wearing a sweater?" Jimin teases you as he jumps into the chair. You give him a small smile as you grab his eyeliner. 

"For real, you're going to get heat stroke." Hoseok says looking up from his phone. 

"I'll be okay." You say to him before smiling. 

"I can give you my t-shirt if you want, noona!" Jeongguk suggest standing up. You shake your head kindly before putting your finger under Jimin's chin. 

"You shouldn't wear such heavy stuff in the summer-" 

"Leave her alone." Yoongi says sitting up and taking off his bucket hat. His head turning to his younger members making Jin tilt his head awkwardly. 

"Who are you to be concerned with Y/N? You don't even talk to her." You tap your foot nervously on the ground as you swipe the soft charcoal liner against Jimin's water line. 

"Just...leave her alone." Yoongi mumbles before folding his arms and closing his eyes. He knows your biggest secret and even though you both don't talk, you trust him.

You flinch as you sit down before lifting up your shirt and giving a shaky exhale. Your ribs were screaming with pain today. Yoongi enters the green room with water and a few pills in hand and you raise an eyebrow. He sets down the water in front of you and the pills before shutting the door and locking it. 

"Show me." His voice is a mere whisper in the large room. 

"No." You mumble before thanking him for the pain killers. 

"Y/N. Look, I know...I haven't been the nicest guy...Just show me." He whispers before leaning against the white table. 

"I can't." Your heart was beating faster, a sweat beginning to gather on your hairline as his brown eyes bore into yours. 

"Tell Jin, tell me. Tell someone. Please." He whispers before putting his hand on your shoulder. You groan backing away from him as you stand up. Yoongi's expression softens before running his fingers through his silver hair. 

"I can't tell anyone. I'll get in trouble." You whisper before looking at the ground. The fury that ignites in Yoongi's belly could rival Hades. 

"I can help you. Please, show me." You open your mouth before whimpering. Your bottom lip tucking into your teeth as you sway with uncertainty. 

"I don't need your help." You mumble to him making his eyes squeeze shut. He sighs gently before stepping back and taking a deep breath. 

"Okay. But, I'm here. Okay? I'm here for you to talk to." He leaves without another word and you sob putting your face in your hands. How could you tell him when it's your fault?

Getting ready for an award show is really difficult work. There are a bunch of meetings to attend, finding the right makeup looks to go with the outfits for the boys. Trial runs to make sure you can recreate the look on time. It gives you almost no time to do anything for yourself, let alone answer your phone. Big mistake. Your feet hit the pavement on the sidewalk as you step out of the building drowsy. You were dying to sleep, dying to be tucked under that heavy pink comforter Jin bought you for your birthday. 

"HEY!" The voice makes your blood run cold as your head snaps up in the direction. He was here?! At your job?! 

"Jungkwon!" You say as he advances towards you. 

"I fucking called you. You didn't pick up! What were you doing? Hmm? Spreading your little legs up there?" His voice reaches a high in the quiet street as he grips at your shoulder. 

"No! No! I was working!" You say quickly, trying to make yourself as small as possible as he pulls you into the alleyway next to the building. 

"Fucking little cunt, you always lie to me." You could smell the alcohol on his breath and you close your eyes as he slams your body into the wall. Your body shuddering in pain as you whimper. 

"What was so important that you couldn't answer me?! Hmm?! Taking a cock up your slutty little cunt?" You shake your head fiercely as he grips at your face, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your cheeks as you whimper. His knee connects harshly to your solar plex, a loud gasp emitting from you as your face screws up in pain. 

"You're going to fucking get it." His hand wraps around the column of your throat, squeezing harshly as you whine.

Yoongi steps out of the building, his hood going over his head as he yawns. Being in the studio is taking everything out of him lately. He steps onto the sidewalk before walking towards his car with sleepy eyes. 

"You're a fucking little brat. You understand me? I'm going to fucking kill you." Yoongi stops, his head turning into the alley as the sky begins to deepen to it's nightly black color. He hears your whimper and his keys slip from his fingers. 

"Fucking bastard." The keys tingle as they hit the pavement, Yoongi's hand rests on the windshield as he stares at the two shadows in front of him. It starts at Yoongi's toes. The heat, the fucking vile anger creeps up his veins. His blood curdling hot and tepid as his vision goes red.  He doesn't even register how fast his feet move, everything feeling as if it's in slow motion. 

"Y/N!" Yoongi calls to you as he jogs into the alleyway. You look over at him, bottom lip split open as blood dribbles down your chin. 

"Who the fuck are you?! Huh?" Jungkwon yells nodding with wide eyes at Yoongi. Yoongi pushes his hood off of his head, silver hair glowing in the dim orange light of the street lamps not too far away. 

"Get off of her." Jungkwon chuckles before gripping your hair making you whimper. 

"She's my girlfriend. This who you were spreading your legs for? HUH?! Slutty little cunt getting fucked by this guy?!" Jungkwon spits on your neck as you flinch. His fingers tugging at your scalp as you screw your eyes shut. 

Yoongi advances, his hand forming a fist as he collides his knuckles into your boyfriend's face. Jungkwon staggers back, letting you go as he brings his hand up to his cheek. 

"You're going to regret that." He mutters to Yoongi, foam spewing at the sides of his lips as he seethes through his teeth. 

"Y/N. Go to my car." Yoongi whispers before looking sideways at your beaten face. 

"I-I don't-" "Black Mercedes. Keys are on the floor. Get in and lock the doors. Now." You look at Jungkwon nervously as you begin to move. 

"You fucking get in that car, I'll fucking kill you bitch!" Yoongi grits his teeth, his fists jabbing at Jungkwon's face. His knuckles splitting open as he tightens his jaw. 

"Go." Yoongi whispers as Jungkwon falls to the floor. You whimper before sprinting to his car by the Bit Hit entrance. Your shaky hands picking up his keys before going through each one. Yoongi kneels on your boyfriend's fallen body. His kneecaps digging into his gut as he peers down at him. 

"You ever even think of talking to her or touching her again. I'll fucking ruin you. I'll make you wish you had never been born. You're over." Yoongi spits on Jungkwon's face before standing up. 

"Fuck you!" Yoongi smirks before turning back to Jungkwon as he walks to his car. "Fuck you, too. Prick." 

Yoongi taps his knuckles on the glass window. His blood smearing the glass as he peers in. 

"Just me." He says through the door. You lean over the middle console and unlock the door before putting your face into your knees. Yoongi hops in before locking the doors and turning to you. 

"Hey." He whispers gently, his hand caressing your knee making you jump. He pulls back before nodding. 

"I'm going to take you to Jin's." He whispers softly, you look up with wide eyes. 

"No! No! You can't!" Your voice becoming hysterical as you grab at his hoodie. 

"Okay. Okay. I'll take you to my place." He whispers as you begin to whimper. He turns on the car, the headlights flashing at Jungkwon's body as he sits up. 

"Put your seatbelt on." He says before leaning over your body and grabbing the seatbelt. You stiffen as he gives you a small smile before securing you into the passenger seat. 

"Fucking prick bastard." He mumbles as he revs his engine, he accelerates the gas before driving forward towards Jungkwon’s fallen body. Jungkwon backs up as Yoongi slams hard on the breaks centimeters away from him. He gives a quiet shaky laugh as Jungkwon grabs onto the brick wall of the alley before squeezing his eyes shut. 

"He's never going to bother you again." Yoongi mumbles before lowering his window and spitting in Jungkwon's direction. 

You step inside Yoongi's apartment, arms folded over one another as you look down at your bare feet. 

"Come." He whispers walking through the large apartment. He was very clean, multiple pieces of art on stands as you walk through the hallway. He had some awards in a glass case by the television. As well as pictures of albums on the hallway walls. 

"I'm going to give you some clothes to change into. You can take a shower and then we'll talk. Okay?" He asks gently as he opens his walk in closet. 

"Okay." You whisper before putting your hair up in a ponytail. Yoongi grabs some clothes. A long black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants come to your hands as you clear your throat. "I'll show you where the shower is." 

You seemed to be in a state of shock, Yoongi has gathered. He clinks the ice cube around in his glass of whisky before staring at the large window of his apartment. His head leaning back on the couch as he presses the lip of his glass to his mouth. You were frightened, incredibly so. Yoongi didn't know every single thing you went through but it must have been torture. He closes his eyes as he hears the shower turn off. You were beautiful and you or anyone should never be treated in such a way. He would protect you, keep you safe. No one was getting to harm you ever again. 

"Yoongi?" Your voice was soft as it echoed throughout his large apartment. 

"Living room!" He says setting down his whisky and sitting up. He could hear how softly your feet were pattering on the floor. As if you had to sneak around to just get by and Yoongi swears his heart could break at any second. He turns his head as your shadow gets bigger on his white walls.

You stand there at the entrance of the hallway, your arms folded and your body hunched over as if you were trying to make yourself small. You had showered off all of the makeup that kept your bruises hidden and Yoongi takes a deep inhale through his nose before turning his head out of respect to try not to stare. 

"Come sit." He whispers, closing his eyes. The back of his eyelids were black but they could still see your figure plain as day. Your body tainted with shades of purples and yellows. Bruises that were trying to heal themselves beat back to blue and reds. Yoongi swallows thickly as your feet pad around his glass coffee table. You sit on the farthest end of his L shaped couch before tucking your legs underneath you. 

"Can I make you a drink?" Yoongi asks before pointing at his grandiose liquor cabinet. 

"Yes, please." He pats his knees before standing up. There was silence, just glass clinking and liquid pouring. You watch with half lidded eyes as Yoongi's back relaxes. His form was tall in stature and you wonder if you would ever be able to stand tall like he is. He turns around and you avert your gaze to the black legs of the glass table. He gives a small smile before walking over and handing you the glass. 

"Thank you." He hums before sitting down, closer than before but still giving you some distance so you don't feel cornered. He folds his arms before leaning back into the couch. His eyes flickering to your bruised cheek and split lip. 

"Y/N." His voice was soft yet again. His tone drawing your eyes to him as you take a sip of the strong whisky before cringing. 

"Thanks for what you did back there. I don't know if it helped but...thanks." He tilts his head before turning to you, his arm angling over the top of the couch. 

"Why would it not help? You never have to see him again. He will never hurt you again, I won't fucking stand for it." Yoongi's voice grows louder as you lay your head onto the couch. 

"I still live there. All of my stuff is there." Yoongi sighs gently before placing his hand on your knee, you cringe before retracting and he nods. 

"Live here. I'll buy you new stuff. I'm good for it. Don't give in to it. Stay here with me." His small eyes shift from looking at your eyes to the other. Pleading with you to stay. 

"Why would you be kind to me?" You ask quietly, putting the glass between your knees. 

"Because I care that you're in pain. I care about you." And, you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. 

"Nobody deserves to be treated this way." He has known pain in his past, he's known cruelty. He's known what being a disappointment is like. But, he doesn't know what abuse is. He doesn't know the domestic agony. And, you shouldn't either. "Stay with me. I'll help you." You look at him before closing your eyes. "Okay." Your voice is like a wisp in the forest. Yoongi catches the glass of whisky as your eyes grow heavy. "I'll protect you." He mumbles putting the glass down on the table.

You had been staying at Yoongi's for a month so far. He was really kind and gave you the space that you needed. You hadn't really talked about Jungkwon or that night since then. Yoongi hands you a glass of whisky before clearing his throat and sitting down beside you on the couch. He takes in your short sleeve black t-shirt before smiling. It was nice to see you in clothes that showed your skin. Your bruises had been healing nicely. 

"That shirt is really pretty on you." He whispers before angling his body towards you. 

"Thanks." You whisper before taking a sip of the alcohol. The air hangs thin around you both as Yoongi takes off his face mask. His teeth picking at his perfect lips before leaning back against the arm of the couch. 

"Wanna talk?" His voice echoing through the quiet apartment as you look at his face. 

"About?" 

"That time." You take a deep breath before tilting your head. He was for all intents and purposes, the closest person to you besides Seokjin. He was comfort in its most raw form. He had made your heart swell with his caring yet nonchalant actions. Everything about his exuded calmness and you weren't afraid to talk to him. You were afraid to show him how much of a coward you were...are. 

"What about it?" Your question lingers in the air as Yoongi tilts his head. 

"Everything about it. You can talk to me Y/N. You can tell me everything. I want you to tell me everything." Whether or not you knew, Yoongi's heart has grown fond of you. He relished in hearing you hum through the walls of his apartment. Hearing you giggle in your room at t.v. shows and sing along to music. 

"You don't want to know everything." Yoongi sighs before sipping his whisky. His index finger circling the rim of his cup as he stares at you. 

"I want to know what you're willing to share." You sit up, your back straightening making him relax. This was one of the first times you had sat up straight, not hunching over or making yourself small. 

"It started out small." You take a shaky breath before gulping the whiskey. The burn in your stomach guiding you forward. Yoongi says nothing, his lips pressing into a straight line. 

"Started out as small mean comments. 'You're a bitch.' Or, 'You need to learn how to be a woman.' Then it escalated when I got to Big Hit." Yoongi closes his eyes, his hand gripping at the whisky glass. 

"He started hitting me to show me that I was weaker than him. I should have stayed home, cooking for him. Doing his laundry. Stuff like that. He drank a lot. And, I would pretend not to be nervous the whole day waiting to get hit when I got home." Yoongi sighs gently, his eyes opening as you close yours. 

"I would tip toe around. Hoping to not disturb him or make him upset with me. Even though it didn't matter. Everything I did upset him. Then, it got worse. He would make me..." You feel a lump forming in your throat and you swallow before looking down at your glass. Watching as the whiskey sloshes from side to side in the cup. 

"He would make me do...sexual stuff to him when I didn't want to. Tie me and leave me there for him to come back later and do stuff." Yoongi feels sick, he feels his stomach rolling. You were talking but you felt like a shell. Your voice felt distant and non-existent in this space with him. 

"He would accuse me of sleeping with everyone at the office. And, I got brainwashed into thinking I did something wrong. It was all my fault that he was doing this because I wasn't good enough." You clear your throat before finishing the whisky and putting the glass on the coffee table. You nod your head before smirking. 

"I felt like I was the reason why this was happening to me. I fucked up, I deserved it." You look over at Yoongi, his expression makes your heart break. His eyebrows were knit together, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. 

"But, you helped. You let me stay, you're letting me become stronger." You whisper as his expression softens. 

"You make me feel better. Make me understand that it isn't my fault and I didn't do anything wrong." Yoongi shakes his head. 

"You didn't. You're a good person, Y/N." You feel tears prick at your eyes as you smile at him. 

"I'm going to hug you, okay?" You nod as he sits up. He envelops you in a hug, that can only be described as warm and loving. Your chin hooking over his shoulder as both of you close your eyes. Yoongi bites at his bottom lip before looking at the ceiling. Something was building between you both. Culminating into something wonderful. Something like love.

You were afraid to tell Jin, his heart might not be able to take it. He might be hurt knowing you suffered and never told him. Yoongi sits in the green room watching you delicately as you still make your form smaller. He clicks his teeth before standing up and sitting in the chair. His eyes looking up at you as you smile at him. 

"Are you okay?" He mumbles trying not to draw attention. 

"I'm okay." You whisper, his thumb grazing over your knuckles as he angles his face to look at you as you try to avoid the eye contact. Jin notices this, his body leaning over Hoseok's to look through the mirror at the strange contact you both are having. He goes wide eyed before frowning and folding his arms. 

"What's up with that?" He mutters, drawing Namjoon's attention. Yoongi sits back in the chair, concerned small eyes examining your face before closing them. 

"Something's going on." Namjoon whispers into Seokjin's ear who nods in return. 

It was a Tuesday, a day off for once. You were sitting in the kitchen with Yoongi drinking coffee and talking. You could talk about anything and everything, and you loved that. 

"This track...I just...I have the beat but it's missing something. I can't put my finger in it." You hum leaning over his body to look at his laptop screen. He places his hand delicately on your upper back and for the first time, you didn't flinch away from him. It didn't bother you, Yoongi has done it on several occasions trying to acclimate you back to reality and he closes his eyes happily as you accept his touch.

"Can I play it?" You ask tilting your head to look at him. 

"Please." You press the spacebar before sitting up, the beat of the music flowing through the air loudly. You close your eyes cupping your coffee with both hands and Yoongi takes this opportunity to look at you. You were so gorgeous, you so easily shook up his heart. He finds himself tilting his head as he leans in closer to you. 

"You're beautiful." He whispers leaning closer. Your eyes open and you don't back away. You smile before tilting your head like him. He wrinkles his nose at you before taking a deep breath. 

"You aren't frightened, right?" You shake your head. 

"No." How he loved the sound of your voice. He takes a sharp breath between his teeth as he holds his hand out for you to see. He caresses your cheekbone with his thumb and you lean into his touch. 

"Thank you for trusting me." 

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" The voice is sharp and you pull away quickly before looking at the front door. Seokjin stands in the doorway, eyes wide as Yoongi closes the laptop. 

"Hyung! I didn't hear the door." Yoongi says as you stand up. 

"That's what the fuck you're worried about?! The door?!" You make yourself small in front of your best friend and Yoongi furrows his eyebrows. 

"Please don't yell in front of Y/N. We can talk, just...just calm down. You're scaring her." Seokjin scoffs folding his arms, his grey peacoat sagging as he raises an eyebrow. 

"Y/N, what are you doing here?!" You look up at Jin through your lashes. 

"We should talk." You say before walking into the living room and down the hallway to your room.

Jin stares at you before looking at Yoongi in the doorway. "Why didn't you tell me?!" 

You pull down your shirt over your now healing back before leaning forward and hugging Jin. He holds you tightly to him as his eyes begin to water. 

"You should have told me! I'll fucking kill him!" He sobs loudly putting his hands over his face. 

"Yoongi has been really nice, letting me stay here and helping me try to become a normal person again." 

"You are normal." Yoongi mumbles as Jin pulls away from you. 

"I can't believe you held onto that secret for so long. I'm sorry I didn't notice...I..." Jin wipes at his face with his sleeves before clearing his throat. 

"I made sure no one noticed." You tell him putting your hand on his knee. 

"I love you. I'm so sorry." Seokjin whispers before hugging you again. 

"Love you, too. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." He shakes his head before burying his face into your neck. 

"Thank you for taking care of her." Jin looks at Yoongi, who in turn is wiping his own tears. His black shirt is over his mouth as he nods. "Always."

The nightmares came and went. Though tonight, every time you closed your eyes you would find yourself awake shortly after gasping for air with tears threatening to spill over. Your body had a sheen layer of sweat as you sit up in your bed. Your hand flying over your heart as you gasp for breath. You don't know how you found your footing but you did. Your feet traipsing out of your room and down to Yoongis. Your hand knocks on his door before opening it. He grumbles gently, his silver hair in his eyes before lifting his head. 

"Y/N? What's wrong?" You whimper shaking your head and he sits up at the noise. 

"Come." He was quick to throw back his comforter inviting you into his space. 

"Can I sleep with you?" Your voice was timid and small. 

"Come here." You lay down in his bed, your body finding itself in the fetal position. 

"You had a nightmare?" You nod into the pillow as Yoongi sighs gently. 

"Nothing can hurt you, I'm here to protect you." You exhale through your nose before feeling his arm wrap around your waist. His chest pressing flush to your back. 

"I'm here." In this room, in his space feeling so comfortable you felt the need to speak. 

"Sometimes I feel it, when I wake up my body hurts like it's happening to me again. Like, I can't get away from it." Yoongi opens his eyes, your outline gracing his sight in his dark bedroom. 

"You are away. You're here, with me. I'll never let anything hurt you again." You turn your body, pressing your face into his chest. He stiffens for a second before putting his chin on top of your head and closing his eyes. 

"I kind of love you, Yoongs." He smirks before nodding. "I kinda love you too." 

It's been a year. A great year, in fact. A mother fucking year, in the words of Kim Namjoon. 

"Yo, shut the fuck up!" You scream with laughter as you throw yourself onto the couch. Seokjin laughs loudly before handing Yoongi a glass of whisky. All the boys had found out about your troubles shortly after you had told Jin. They found out that you live in Yoongi's house although no one knows that you spend every night in Yoongi's bed since that one nightmare. Yoongi had taught you how to be yourself. Taught you to love yourself and love life. To not be afraid. He's given you more than most. And, above all he taught you how to love him. 

"I'm serious! She almost threw me out a window!" Taehyung yells as you lay your head on Yoongi's lap. He chuckles quietly before putting the throw blanket over your legs. 

"You're so dramatic." You say with a laugh tucking the blanket between your knees. Yoongi's fingers find your hair, running them through delicately as he sips his whiskey. 

"We have a schedule tomorrow. We should head out." Jin says as you frown. 

"You only just got here." Your whine is loud making Yoongi laugh as he leans forward to put his glass down on the coffee table. 

"We've been here for like five hours." He mutters as you pout. 

"Never enough time with Worldwide Handsome." Jin makes a pleased noise at the back of his throat. 

"That's why she's my best friend. Look at that." You giggle as you sit up, cocooned within the tie dye cashmere blanket as Jin kisses your forehead. 

"See you both tomorrow. Hmm?" Taehyung gets up with a groan before waving both hands at you and grabbing the unopened soju bottle. 

"Birthday present!" He says scurrying over to the door. 

"It's September!" You call with a laugh as Yoongi stands up. 

"Y/N. Everyday is my birthday." Taehyung cheers before following Jin out the door. You shake your head with a laugh before standing up and throwing the blanket on the couch. Yoongi looks you over before smirking. You had the confidence to wear a dress and he loves that. 

"Let's clean up and go to bed. I'm tired." Yoongi mutters as he grabs the take out containers from the table. You nod to him before yawning and grabbing the used glasses before walking into the kitchen. Yoongi's eyes follow you as you walk tall before wrinkling his nose. 

Yoongi's arm falls under his head as you lay next to each other in his bed. 

"Do you feel that?" You ask quietly, he turns his head raising an eyebrow. 

"Feel what?" "The love between us?" He snorts before laughing loudly. 

"Who allowed you to be so corny?" You giggle before turning to look at him. His eyes were already on your face, his lips quirked up in a smile. Yoongi turns his body as you stare at each other. 

"I feel it, though." He whispers before caressing your cheek. 

"Me too." He hums in agreement before leaning closer. 

"Can I kiss you, Y/N?" You close your eyes, the exciting sensation starting from your toes and spreading to your heart. His warm lips pressed to yours, the kiss was soft and heartfelt. Your hand finds the back of his head, fingers intertwining with his locks of hair as you pull him closer. 

"I love you. You know that right? And, I'm here when you're ready to begin again." 

"I love you, too." Yoongi presses his forehead to yours before closing his eyes. 

"I'm ready." You whisper into the quiet room. His gummy smile appears on his face as he pulls you close to him. 

"I'll always be here to protect you. To make sure you're safe." You bury your face into his neck as he squeezes you tightly. 

"I love you, Yoongs." 

"I love you, too."

[little-diable]

Hold up - Klaus Mikaelson (angst/smut)

Hey babe, I wanted to ask for a one shot with Klaus mikaelson inspired by beyonce "hold up" specifically the lyrics "let's imagine for a moment that you never made a name for yourself or mastered wealth they had you labeled as a king, never had the baddest women in the game up in your sheets, they used to lie to hide from ya lied to ya, but y'all know we remained for eachother so I found you and hold you down" pleaaaaaaaase, thank you so much

Damn love, thank you for this request, I am OBSESSSSSED with the song, makes me feel powerful haha. Enjoy. xxx

Hold up, they don't love you like I love you Slow down, they don't love you like I love you Back up, they don't love you like I love you Step down, they don't love you like I love you Can't you see there's no other man above you? What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you Hold up, they don't love you like I love you Oh, down, they don't love you like I love you

Being with Klaus Mikaelson was something special, he could be the most loving partner, could handle you with kid gloves, but he could also be ruthless, arrogant and insensitive. He was a flirt, liked to be surrounded by beautiful women, to be appreciated like the king he thought he was, but of course, a king would be nothing without his queen, even though, Klaus seemed to forget about that from time to time. (Y/n) had been by his side from the start, treated him with kindness, tried to support him through all his fights, she kept him grounded, but (y/n) wasn't a fool, by now she knew how to keep him in check, at least that’s what she thought.  

Klaus eyes were focused on the girl that was talking to him, a blondie that went by the name Caroline, (y/n) cringed at the sight, a smirk tugged on Klaus eyes as heard Carolines laugh, his hands slightly moved up and down her arm. (Y/n) slammed her glass down on the table top, collected her stuff and walked out of the bar towards the Mikaelsons mansion. She held her head high, jealousy flooded through her veins, the want to rip the blonde girl to shreds intensified by the second.  

Something don't feel right because it ain't right Especially comin' up after midnight I smell your secrets, and I'm not too perfect To ever feel this worthless How did it come down to this? Scrolling through your call list I don't wanna lose my pride, but I'ma fuck me up a bitch Know that I kept it sexy, you know I kept it fun There's something that I'm missing, maybe my head for one

It was past midnight as Klaus walked through the door, his hair was a mess, his eyes glistered in the light, (y/n) smelled Carolines perfume on him, an uneasy feeling settled in her gut as she watched him get ready for bed, the smirk on his lips as prominent as ever. She waited till he was fast asleep, rose from the bed and walked out of the house, it was time to set the blonde Forbes girl straight, the want to get revenge clouded her senses. 

(Y/n) had Caroline pressed against her bedroom wall, “do I need to repeat myself?”, she whispered against her neck, inhaling her strawberry scent. (Y/n) eyes were pitch black, the veins underneath her eyes began to form as she tightened the grip on Carolines neck, “no, I get it.”, she whispered, scared that the old vampire would rip her into shreds. “Good.”, (y/n) rasped out as she vanished from Carolines sight, a devilish smirk on her lips as she walked towards the mansion, she felt powerful. 

What's worst, lookin' jealous or crazy? Jealous or crazy? Or like being walked all over lately, walked all over lately I'd rather be crazy

“What did you do?”, Klaus had her pinned against the mattress of their shared bed, his jaw was clenched, eyes black as he watched her emotionless features, “what are you talking about?”, a smirk tugged on her lips as she wrapped her legs around his middle and switched them around, she was now straddling her boyfriend. “Don’t play games with me, (y/n).”, Klaus voice was laced with anger and something else (y/n) couldn’t pin down, “oh”, (y/n) dipped her head down and licked a stripe up his neck, “are you talking about your toy? Caroline?”, she bit his jawline. 

Hold up, they don't love you like I love you Slow down, they don't love you like I love you Back up, they don't love you like I love you Step down, they don't love you like I love you Can't you see there's no other man above you? What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you Hold up, they don't love you like I love you Slow down, they don't love you like I love you

A growl escaped his lips as she grasped his hands and pinned them together, “I told her not to mess with me and that you’re mine, mine alone, Klaus.”, her (y/e/c) eyes were focused on his black ones, eyebrows furrowed together as he watched her, the forming bulge in his trousers throbbed against her core. (Y/n) couldn’t hold back her laugh as he struggled against her hold, “oh Klaus, you should know by now, that they don’t love you like I love you.”, she pressed her lips against his, a moan escaped her as she tasted him on her tongue. 

The original was done with her games, he bit her lower lip, drawing some blood, and switched her around once again, “are you jealous, my love?”, Klaus kissed the spot beneath her ear, her hands tangled themselves in his locks, tugging on his roots. (Y/n) didn’t answer him, she kept her mouth shut as he pressed open mouthed kisses down her neck, sucking on her collarbones, hands tightly gripping her hipbones, keeping her caged between his body and the mattress. 

Let's imagine for a moment that you never made a name for yourself Or mastered wealth, they had you labeled as a king Never made it out the cage, still out there movin' in them streets Never had the baddest woman in the game up in your sheets Would they be down to ride? No They used to hide from you, lie to you But y'all know we were made for each other So I find you and hold you down Me sing se

“There’s nothing to be jealous of Klaus. We both know, that you’d be nothing without me. Do you really think, that all these women fancy you, just because of your looks?”, a humorless laugh escaped her lips, Klaus came to a halt, eyes slowly finding hers, “Oh no, you didn’t really think these women were genuinely interested in you, did you? They are simply using you for your reputation, our reputation, love.”. She enjoyed to see him struggle, it seemed as if suddenly Klaus truly understood what she was trying to tell him, he let go of her, confusion clouded his mind. 

Wordlessly she grasped his wrist and pulled him in for another kiss, she wasn’t done with him, oh no. (Y/n) ran her hand over his throbbing length, he groaned against her lips as she opened the button from his trousers and pulled out his member. It didn’t take them long to get rid of their clothing, hands gripping each other, mouths leaving marks, passionate sounds escaping them. “You’re mine, mine alone.”, (y/n) repeated herself as she tasted his precum, his salty taste was heavy on her tongue. Klaus left marks everywhere he tasted her, he placed her against the bed as his fingers pumped in and of her clenching heat, the both of them enjoyed makeup sex way too much. 

Hold up, they don't love you like I love you Slow down, they don't love you like I love you Back up, they don't love you like I love you Step down, they don't love you like I love you Can't you see there's no other man above you? What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you Hold up, they don't love you like I love you Slow down, they don't love you like I love you

“I need to feel you around me.”, she could tell that he was angry, jaw clenched, the fire was burning in his eyes, Klaus ran his tip through her folds, coating himself with her arousal. He thrusted into her, not giving her any time to adjust to his length, a deep moan left her lips as she scratched her nails up his spine, Klaus kept on pumping in and out of her, eyes shut as she began to clench around him. He could feel her smirk against his neck, Klaus was ready to fuck her into oblivion, ready to prove to her, that he had the upper hand in their relationship, no matter what she thought.  

Her tits bounced as he picked up his speed, forcefully his hips brushed against her own ones, “you’re so tight around me, fuck, love”, an animalistic sound left him as he snapped his hips forward. Klaus circled his thumb around her sensitive clit, (y/n) eyes rolled backwards, the sensation was getting too much, he moved his thumb towards her lips, making her taste her own arousal. His name left her mouth over and over again, falling from her lips like a prayer, Klaus knew that she was close, the way her back was arched against his front, her eyes shut, her pussy had a vice grip on his cock. 

Hey, this such a shame You let this good love go to waste I always keep the top tier, 5 star Backseat lovin' in the car Like make that wood, like make that wood Holly like a boulevard

“You’re not allowed to cum yet.”, he switched her around, ignoring her protests as he kept on fucking her from behind, his balls slapped against her enlarged clit, one hand ran up her spine, towards her head, gripped her hair and pulled her backwards. “You’ve been a naughty girl, did you really think that you had the upper hand in this?.”, she bit her lip, goosebumps graced her skin as Klaus kept on forcefully snapping his hips against hers. 

(Y/n) tightly gripped the pillow, she wasn’t quite sure how much longer she could prolong her orgasm, pearls of sweat began to pool on her forehead, his nose was pressed against her neck, fangs gazing the area, as he sunk his teeth into her skin a high pitched moan left her lips, the copper taste brought him much closer to his own release. 

What's worse, lookin' jealous or crazy? Jealous and crazy? Or like being walked all over lately, walked all over lately I'd rather be crazy

“Cum for me, love.”, he rasped out as he felt his length twitch inside of her, his teeth buried in her neck as his pace began to falter. Her pussy fluttered around him, “oh god, Klaus.”, her head fell forward against the pillow, the soft material muffled her screams. Seeing her like this, wrecked, blood seeping out of her wound, completely at his mercy, triggered his own release, ropes of hot cum spurted into her. “Jesus fuck, love.”, he breathed out, Klaus momentarily leaned forward, his head pressed against the small of her back. 

Slowly Klaus pulled out of her, his own juices mixed with her, dripped down onto the bed sheets as he cradled her against his sweaty chest. She tried to calm herself down, his fingers rubbed soothing motions into her hot skin, “I’m sorry, (y/n).”, he whispered, eyes focused on her trembling figure. (Y/n) nodded against his chest, her hands grasped his chin and pulled him in for another kiss, “just please, for the sake of both of us, keep it in your pants in the future.”. 

Hold up, they don't love you like I love you Slow down, they don't love you like I love you Back up, they don't love you like I love you Step down, they don't love you like I love you Can't you see there's no other man above you? What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you Hold up, they don't love you like I love you Oh, down, they don't love you like I love you

[simsadventures]

Better Together (Part IV of My Viking Miniseries)

Viking! Loki x Irish Princess! Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Loki grows stronger and it shows even when his brother comes to visit.

Warnings: little bit of angst, some jealousy, fluff, brotherly bickering, implied smut

Word Count: 3114

A/N: Sorry it had taken me so long, I’ve been a busy bee this whole time, but I promise I’ll devote more time to this story. I think there will be at least one more story, with some good ol’ smut in it. And we’ll see after that! Thank you everybody for reading this, and let me know what you all thought about this chapter :) x

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

Heart of Fire (Part I)

Day In, Day Out (Part II)

Sparks All Around (Part III)

“My queen, you look beautiful today. Had the king seen you already?” Wanda chirped as you walked together by the coast on a beautiful early morning. You felt beautiful, and you knew it had to mirror on your face as well. Ever since the marriage and the realisation that your husband was no heathen but a handsome and intelligent young man, who knew how to treat you and his people, you thrived.

It wasn’t like your relationship had moved to the more physical side, not yet, anyway, but for the first time in your life, there was somebody supporting you whole and unquestionably. Ever since you outshot him with the bow and arrow, he allowed women to the shooting range as well as every other battle-related activity, just like he promised.

And to everybody’s utter surprise, it wasn’t just one or two women who wanted to learn how to fight. It had been more than 100 women in the month that passed since the memorable shooting. You conversed with many of those women and found out that while some were warriors at heart, and planned on joining Loki and the men during the battles, some women simply wanted to be able to protect themselves and their families.

And you applauded them for it. You yourself weren’t the type who’d rush into every battle, but you’d be damned if somebody came and wanted to take what was yours. And while your abilities with the bow were admirable, most of the other activities weren’t as favourable of you as you’d like.

So, you trained every day to strengthen your muscles to be able to carry a sword and shield, while you stretched every morning and every night to be able to duck and jump if you were thrown into an actual battlefield.

Loki watched the change in your body with hooded eyes because his queen was growing stronger and more beautiful with each passing day, and it had been getting a lot harder to stay away from your bed. He wanted to keep his promise, and so he never pushed, nor had he ever just appeared in your bed chambers, urging you to let him in.

Not that he hadn’t dreamt of it, but he had enough respect for you to stay clear of such actions. Hope came in the form of your lingering looks, and he hoped it wouldn’t take too long for you to finally invite him and never let him go.

Loki send prayers every day to the Gods to ensure his wife seeing him in a positive light, and finally letting you both enjoy the beauties of marital life. But until you relented, Loki was left to his own devices.

You came back to Earth when you heard Wanda’s chuckle, and you trained your eyes on the ground, feeling like a child caught in some mischievous action.

“Do not fret, my queen. I’m happy you’re happy and that the mere mention of the king’s name brings such dreamy look to your face! Have you thought of letting him join you in your chambers?” She pried, and you chuckled, slightly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

Wanda knew all about your relationship because you two grew immensely closer in the passing weeks. She had been your rock, and you were forever grateful for her presence in the castle.

“Not yet, dear friend. Not that I don’t wish to see him every night and every morning when I wake up, I’m just worried that he will lose interest the second he gets what he wants from me,” you muttered, speaking what had been weighing down your heart for a few weeks.

“Oh, Y/N, my dearest queen! Have you not learned anything about your husband during all this time? Loki is mesmerised by you. Every time you walk by him, he ceases to talk, and I would even bet his brain ceases to function. Let alone when you decide to grace him with your presence, and actually make conversation with him, or lay a hand on his. You should see the look of total adoration written in his face,” Wanda chastised you slightly, and you bowed your head once again.

The fear of your husband not being interested in you, or even cheating on you had long been on your mind, and you wished to rid yourself of it, though did not know how.

But you knew one thing. Loki deserves your trust because he had done nothing that would betray it in all those weeks you two had been a married couple. You just had to let go of your inhibitions and let him in your hear. And in your bed.

Loki stood in the Great Hall, looking at the man in front of him with a certain amount of disbelief.

“You said what? Who is coming to visit?” Loki asked, still trying to regain at least a bit of his usual composure.

“King Thor is coming to visit you, my lord. He sent me a little forward so I could announce him coming here to Ireland. He is very excited to see you and meet your new wife. He plans on staying for a few weeks before travelling back to Wessex,” the messenger repeated and shut up again, just like he was trained.

Loki was stunned. It wasn’t that he didn’t wish to see his brother again. Thor might have been a pain in the ass, but he was still Loki’s older brother, and Loki missed him. Still, it was pretty unusual for Thor to travel just like that, without any other cause.

Loki suspected that his brother needed his help for something, presumably some kind of battle with the ever-threatening Normandy. But it was useless to lose time by thinking about Thor’s possible motives.

“Right, thank you very much. You’ll be accommodated and tended to shortly,” Loki bowed his head slightly to show gratitude for the messenger and let his men take care of him.

He then turned towards the first thrall he could see and called her to himself.

“Go and fetch the queen for me. Tell her that I need to speak to her urgently,” Loki bid, but because she didn’t move from her spot and looked utterly frightened, Loki raised his brow and waited for her tongue to reappear so that she could say whatever was on her mind. Which she did after a few long moments.

“My king, the queen isn’t in the castle. She went for a walk this morning, and she hadn’t come back yet,” she barely whispered, and Loki sighed. Of course, you were out of the castle. You loved your morning walks by the coast. How could he forget?

“Never mind, then. I’ll find her myself. Go and make yourself useful in the kitchen,” he ordered her, and she scurried away as if he lit her ass on fire. While Loki was glad the thralls and all the people in the castle respected him, he didn’t want them to fear him as if he was one of the Gods. But there wasn’t any talking to them, so he just shook his head and set on foot to find you.

It didn’t take long for him to see you alongside Wanda heading in his direction. You were obviously getting back from the walk already.

Your steps faltered when you noticed him, and he smirked seeing he had such effect on you.

Wanda laughed at you when she saw the slight tremble in your hands caused by the nerves and anticipation brought forward by seeing your husband, and she patted your shoulder before she quickened her steps and disappeared from the scene.

When you finally reached your husband, he was smiling like an idiot, and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“Had a good walk, my queen?” Loki asked as you stopped in front of him, and you just nodded, linking your hand through his as he led you back to the castle.

“I did, thank you, my king. Did something happen that you are here to fetch me, and not some thrall or a messenger?” You asked, slightly worried because it wasn’t like Loki to interrupt your daily walks.

“You wound me, woman. Can’t I join my lovely wife when I feel like it?” He asked mockingly, and you couldn’t help it but smack his shoulder with the back of your hand lightly. That brought a laugh from his lips, and you bit your own, trying hard not to stare too much at the plump pillows.

“It just isn’t like you, that’s all, oh dearest husband,” you smirked as he pinched your hip for making fun of him.

“You are right, Y/N. A messenger came this morning, informing me that my dear brother, Thor king of Wessex, is coming to visit us in a few days. And I wanted you to know as soon as I did,” Loki murmured, and you nodded knowingly.

“Good thing he sent a messenger then, we can prepare his chambers as well as chambers for his men in time and make sure everything looks great before he comes. I wouldn’t want the king of Wessex to think low of us,” you murmured as you went over the list of things that needed to be done before his ships come to anchor at your coast.

Loki chuckled quietly at the look on your face. You looked like a woman with a mission, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss you breathless. And then he just thought, fuck it, and bent his head to your level.

You were taken aback from the sudden motion, but when you saw the look on his face, you knew you couldn’t stay away from him forever. So you made the last step and turned your face so that lips finally met in a short but sweet kiss.

It didn’t happen too often that the two of you connected in this way, but when you did, it felt as if the Gods sent you a blessing greater than any rays of sunshine or moves of the waves. And from the way Loki melted against you, you knew he felt exactly the same.

It took almost another whole week before the ships were in the docks and Loki and Thor were in a tight brotherly embrace.

You, as well as the queen of Wessex, queen Jane, stood behind your husbands and patiently waited till they unlocked from each other’s arms and introduced you properly. Loud laughs and cheers could be heard from the brothers, and you laughed quietly at the happiness emitting from your husband.

When they were finally done with the hugging and yelling, they stepped away, and while Loki immediately stepped to your side and snaked his hand around your waist, Thor stood still and kept standing in front of Jane, not showing her any affection. You felt slightly sorry, but thought it was just a one-time thing. Maybe she wants to be seen as regal, and nothing else was the matter with her.

“Lady Y/N, it is my utmost pleasure to finally meet you. The rumours didn’t do you justice, truly. You are much more beautiful than all those people have told me. Had I known it I might have married you myself,” Thor joked (at least you hoped he was joking), and you smiled a little, not really in the mood to encourage him in such jokes.

Especially since your own husband was standing right there next to you, and the hand that was safely snug around your hips was now a little too tense.

To calm him down, you squeezed the hand reassuringly and gave him your best smile to try and tell him that being jealous of his own brother probably wasn’t the best of ideas.

You weren’t sure it helped, but his shoulders lost a little of the tenseness, and you were glad for it.

“Nice to meet you, my lord. We’re happy to have you here, especially my husband, who had been excited to reunite with you. And welcome as well, lady Jane, I’ve heard some marvellous things about you, and I cannot wait to spend time with you,” you said diplomatically, earning a smile from the lady in speaking.

“Thank you very much, lady Y/N. Pleasure is all ours,” she said, and you could already tell she was a great woman and most probably and amazing queen to her people. What the relationship between her and Loki’s brother was, you couldn’t tell, and you weren’t one to guess.

“Let us have a feast where we can talk,” Loki suggested, and you all walked to the hall, where a feast had already been prepared.

“Did you have a good journey, lady Jane?” You asked when the brothers were out of earshot, marching ahead of you.

“Yes, God has been on our side, and he granted us a safe way all the way here,” she smiled, and you couldn’t help but notice her mention of God. While you were raised Christian as well, all this time spent with Loki and his men and women taught you that their beliefs were a bit more logical for you, and, therefore, it was no surprise when even in your mind you started praying to multiple Gods. Mostly, though, it was Frigg, the goddess of foresight and wisdom, who had to listen to your hopes and dreams, for she was the one most accessible to you. And also Freya because while you didn’t have that much sex, she was also the goddess of love and you believed in that immensely.

And because Jane had been married to Thor for far longer, you would have thought she would transform as well, but, apparently not. But you let it slide since she already seemed nervous as was.

“I’m glad to hear that! And how is Wessex? I have never been there, but it is my dream to come and visit one day,” you exclaimed, and she smiled dreamily as if remembering the place she grew up in.

“You most definitely should. It is the most beautiful place on Earth, well… was, until my beloved husband turned into all into a training grounds for his troops,” she sighed darkly, and you knew at that very moment that their marriage wasn’t able to get over the arranged part of the unity. Unlike you and Loki, you thought to yourself and continued to walk alongside Jane to the Great Hall.

“And how is Ireland, lady Y/N? Are you happy?” Jane asked, and you could hear the hint of her own unhappiness, and the need to share her misery with somebody. But that somebody couldn’t be you, unfortunately.

“We’re better than ever. Loki introduced the kingdom to many novelties and showed our troops the beauty and strength behind the heathen way of fighting, and our army seems to be liking it very much. Overall, the time Loki had spent here was filled with happiness and sunshine, I have to admit,” you smiled brightly at her and excused yourself as soon as you heard Loki calling for you.

You walked gracefully to him, and he raised his brows at your languid tempo. When you reached him, however, he pulled you to his chest and kissed your lips, not caring that you two had an audience. And from the way he enjoyed himself, you knew it was his intention the whole time, to show his brother and any other potential onlookers that you were his and his only.

You let him do what he needed, your own inhibitions dying slowly as you melted against the chest of your husband.

It was only when somebody coughed behind you that Loki finally parted from you with a mischievous smirk on his lips. You shook your head at him and gave him a look that told him you knew what he was up to, but he brushed it off with a single wink and turned to his brother.

“We get it, brother, you are still madly in love with your young bride. Do not worry, nobody will take her away from you,” Thor slightly scolded his younger brother, but Loki just smiled victoriously. There was some kind of measuring of manhoods between them, and Loki probably won this round. Men…

The rest of the evening continued similarly. Loki would make sure you are alright every time he went to have a long conversation with his brother, and when he came back, he would kiss you breathless and yearning for more.

Meanwhile, Jane was sitting there looking like the most dignified of rulers, but you knew it was just a mask. Deep down she was stuck in a marriage that hadn’t had any love in it, with a man she most probably despised for ruining her beloved country and making her be his wife, and who, as far as you could say, was a ladies-man.

You pitied her but didn’t know how to help her, and every time you tried to open such a topic, she would dismiss it quickly and swerve the subject elsewhere. So, after a while, you just dropped it and talked about weather and sewing.

When it was time to depart, Loki was gentlemanly enough to escort you to your chambers, and he once again kissed you, like many times that day, and you wished the day never ended. It was then that you realised such day didn’t have to be the last and that you had fate in your own hands.

You smirked and brought him down for another kiss which you soon deepened, much to Loki’s surprise. You could see the look in his eyes change with the change in the atmosphere, but he pulled away too quickly.

“I wouldn’t want to overstep, my queen,” he coughed, trying to hide his obvious arousal.

You smiled, and suddenly all the fear tying your hands up until then left your body and you transformed into a new and much more confident woman. This was your husband, not some ordinary man standing in front of you, and it was time to prove it.

You opened the door behind you and led him forward. And while he kept staring at you with surprise etched between his eyes, he didn’t ask questions, probably too afraid to break the spell.

“You cannot overstep when I give you permission, my king,” you whispered sultrily, and Loki thought he went to Valhalla at that very moment, and he intended to use it to his advantage. He needed to show you all the beauties of marital life for you to never leave his bed again.

Love Me Like You Do (Part V) >

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