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innerpalaces · 4 months

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The Life of a Cannon Fodder Mother-in-Law - 1

Chapter 1: The Deceived Mother-in-Law 1

Even though she had died, Liu Yuniang still felt like her heart was clogged, and her thoughts were unbearable.

There seemed to be a child's sad cry in her ears. She couldn't let go and really didn't want to die. Suddenly, she found that she was standing in a room with simple but exquisite furnishings. For Liu Yuniang, who was born in a merchant family, all this was a bit too elegant.

A voice in her head asked: "Are you willing to help resolve the resentment of people who died unjustly like you? There are rewards."

It was all too sudden and Liu Yuniang struggled to understand. After hearing the last sentence, she immediately asked: "What's the rewards?"

The voice was cold and emotionless: "For example... returning to your world and doing things over again. "

Liu Yuniang: "..." Do things over!

She must go back and do things over again!

Before she opened her eyes again, Liu Yuniang heard the two men next to her singing a double act. The older one sighed: "When a woman lives alone, the gossip is always unpleasant, and rumors can be as murderous as knives. If the maid who deliverd the gift today was a little late, she might have only been able to collect your godmother's corpse."

Liu Yuniang opened her eyes and saw a young man of eighteen or nineteen years old asking anxiously: "What should we do? Not to mention that she is the godmother who saved me, even it were a stranger, this is also a human life. We should save it if we can..."

"Now, we can probably only..." The middle-aged man looked over and said: "bring the person back to the mansion."

The young man clasped his hands together and said, "I promised to provide for my godmother in her old age. Dad, I will send someone to pick her up later." After saying that, he looked at Liu Yuniang again: "Mom, please let someone clean up Fuyuan Courtyard and let godmother move in later."

Liu Yuniang didn't know what was going on, but the father and son in front of her were obviously putting on a show to get this so-called godmother to move into the house. She subconciously felt that there was something inappropriate about this matter, and was trying to find a reason to stall. When she looked up, she saw the sun was rising outside, it should still be morning.

It was too early to argue that it was too late in the day, and she was hesitating in her heart when the maid waiting beside her exclaimed in a low voice: "That's the eldest miss's yard."

If the servant dared to speak and objected to the eldest miss's yard being occupied, there must be something wrong.

Liu Yuniang immediately made a serious face: "Fuyuan is not possible."

"My sister has been married for four years and has never come back to stay. Why not?" The young man looked puzzled: "I was thinking..."

"Don't even think about it." Her words were quick and concise, since she was afraid of making too many mistakes. Liu Yuniang stood up and walked into the inner room with a flick of her sleeves and then sat down to recieve the original host's memories.

Her original surname was Liu and her given name was Huixin. She was born in Liangzhou, and the Liu family was considered one of the local famous families. This seemingly beautiful scenery of a noble family is all brought about by the main branch. The side branches are just ordinary people and are not very capable.

Liu Huixin had been well educated in the four virtues since she was in young and was loved by her parents at home. However, when she was fifteen, her parents died of illness one after another. For fear of delaying her marriage, her uncle at home made the decision and married her during her filial mourning period.

The marriage was so urgent, and the girl's parents had died, so it was not easy to choose a match. In the end, she married the son of a scholar. The scholar's surname was Qi. Her partner was Qi Zhengming, an only son. The family had dozens of acres of fertile land, so although he was not considered rich, at least they always have enough food and clothing.

At first, it seemed that the scholar had taken advantage by marrying the Liu family. In fact, for Liu Huixin's situation at that time, it was a good thing to have such a marriage. After the young couple were wed, they did live a loving life. Not long after her filial mourning period ended, Liu Huixin became pregnant and gave birth to a daughter smoothly.

Everyone thought her womb bloomed first and would then bear fruit (t/n: meaning it was believed that since she gave birth to a daughter, ie. the bloom, she would later give birth to a son, ie. the fruit), but in the following years, Liu Huixin had no good news.

There are three ways to be unfilial, the worst of which is to have no descendants.

Especially since Scholar Qi was eagar to have an official in their family. After discovering that his son was a piece of rotten wood and could not pass the examination no matter how diligently he taught him, he wanted to teach a grandson... He often urged the young couple to have a son, so Qi Zhengming came up with the idea of adopting a nearly three-year-old child from outside and named him Qi Hechen.

Qi Xiucai got his grandson as he wished, and as expected, the couple had a better life without any further urging. Liu Huixin thought about the fact that the child lost his mother at a young age, and since he was already her adopted son the two had a lifelong bond of mother and son, and she always took good care of him.

After more than ten years of this, Liu Huixin treated people with sincerity, her business was doing well, her family was prosperous, her daughter got married, and her son took a wife... Liu Huixin originally thought that she would be doting on her grandson and living a good life just like this. After a few years, she would hand over the family business and be able to retire in peace and quiet. Unexpectedly, Qi Hechen's godmother could not tolerate some rumors about her and hanged herself.

Fortunately, she was found in time and rescued.

Speaking of this godmother, it was quite mysterious. When Qi Hechen was six years old, he suffered from a strange illness and could not wake up. The doctor was helpless. Liu Huixin happened to hear from her maternal cousin that it was like being possessed by an evil spirit, so she asked the master to help her find a godmother to extend his life, and provided his birth date.

(t/n: There was a traditional belief that a child could be protected from evil spirits by the luck of an adopted parent or godparent. Sometimes a professional ‘godmother’ performed this role, and in some cases children were even adopted by trees or a large stones in order to gain protection from the attached spirit. In this case Liu Huixin believed that her adopted son was sick because of evil spirits and so wanted to find a godmother for him with an auspicious birth chart that could ward of the spirit supposedly making him sick.)

The woman they found to be a godmothe was actually about the same age as Liu Huixin. She was a very gentle young woman. Knowing that accepting this godson would save a child, she happily agreed. Strangely enough, Qi Hechen woke up from the the night after the ceremony. Even if you were skeptical about such metaphysical things, after this you had to believe. For Qi Hechen, it is not an exaggeration to say that it was a life-saving grace.

After showing such great kindness, the person was almost driven to death. Naturally, the Qi family father and son would not just watch, and quickly thought about bringing the person back.

Some things would not raise suspicion if they were placed in a dark place or were not frequent enough. Living under the same roof, Liu Huixin was not blind and soon discovered Qi Zhengming's unusual feelings for this godmother, Cheng Rumeng.

Needless to say, she was sad and uncomfortable. Later, she discovered that she had been living in lies spun by others for many years.

It is a lie that they were a loving couple loyal each other, the adopted son is a lie, and the adopted son's godmother is also a lie. She should be called the biological mother. Even the daughter-in-law who has just entered the house recognized Cheng Rumeng as her biological mother-in-law. They are the real family.

Liu Huixin was feeling sad, and her daughter was also living a miserable life. She was already feeling uncomfortable, and coupled with worrying about her daughter, she suddenly felt exhausted mentally and physically. When Qi Zhengming accused her of neglecting Cheng Rumeng, she finally couldn't help but question him.

Qi Zhengming denied it, and the couple had a big quarrel which ended with them both unhappy.

Liu Huixin came from a wealthy family and had been educated in the three obediences and four virtues since she was a child. No matter how unwilling she was, she was ready to admit it with her nose pinched. She wanted to settle the matter, but the two men were unwilling to do so. She fell ill within a few days and had been sick ever since.

Before dying, the young couple took the initiative to admit in front of the sickbed that they were afraid that she would make a fuss and affect Qi Hechen's reputation, so they killed her. The medicine that made her sick was given to her by her daughter-in-law herself everyday.

"You said before that Hechen and sister-in-law are the same in your eyes, and you are willing to risk your life for their safety. Now that you know these things, your life is always a hidden danger... It is good for all of us if you die. Don't worry, you will be my mother-in-law forever!"

This was the last sentence Liu Huixin heard before she died.

Liu Yuniang: "..." Meeting such a group of people was really eight lifetimes worth of misfortune. This was really tragic.

There was a knock on the door, and Liu Yuniang raised her voice and asked, "What's the matter?"

After Liu Huixin got married, her business grew bigger and bigger, and her temperament was also very different from before she got married. She was straightforward and spoke crisply.

There was a voice from outside: "Huixin, if you don't want our guest to stay in Fuyuan, then we will switch to Lanxie Courtyard. It happens to be summer and it's cool there, so it's not a sign of neglect. Remember to have someone clean it later."

Liu Yuniang opened the door: "Cleaning is fine, but it's not for guests. It's getting hotter and hotter recently. I want to move there to escape the heat."

Qi Zhengming looked at her disapprovingly: "This won't work, that won't work either. How about you tell me where to place her?"

Liu Yuniang was not annoyed and said calmly: "If you ask me, it is not appropriate her to move into our house."

"She tried to hang herself. Do you want to force her to death? " Qi Zhengming frowned: "Huixin, you have known her for so many years, and you are such a kind person. You are always willing to help everyone you know. How can you really watch her die?"

"It's not that." Liu Yuniang waved her hand: "She is still young and good-looking. If she is moved into the mansion, those who know the situation would say we took her in to prevent her from being troubled by rumors. But those who didn't know will think you have taken a concubine."

Qi Zhengming's face darkened: "Don't talk nonsense."

Liu Yuniang nodded: "I don't talk nonsense. In short, moving her into the house is not good for you or her. It's actually easy to stop outsiders from talking about her. She didn't have any children, so she shouldn't stay a widow forever. She might as well find a suitable marriage while she's still young." She clasped her hands togeter solemnly: "If she is shy, I will help her find a matchmaker."

Qi Zhengming was stunned for a moment and didn't understand how they had ended up talking about marriage. "She doesn't want to get married.

Liu Yuniang looked surprised: "Rumeng said it herself? When did she tell you?"

Qi Zhengming: "..."

He ground his teeth: "I guessed."

Liu Yuniang stepped out of the door and said, "She had a bad relationship with her previous husband. That sick man made her cry a lot, but she did her best to take care of him without any complaints until he passed away. She can be considered having done her duty by the Su family. It is said that women know women best. In my opinion, unless she has a sweetheart, she will definitely agree to marry again. You are a grown man, don't worry about these things, leave it to me." She said, and asked people to prepare the carriage, as if she was about to go out.

Qi Zhengming asked: "Where are you going?" He emphasized: "She hasn't said that she will get married again, so don't do bad things with good intentions. Let's bring her into the house first, and don't let her think wildly and commit suicide..."

Liu Yuniang was already walking to the door and she turned around after hearing those words: "I'm just afraid that she will still commit suicide, so I plan to send someone to keep an eye on her personally. Don't worry, in the worst case, I'll tie her up and she won't die."

What kind of method is this?

Qi Zhengming chased her outside the door: "You can't tie people up. We are not enemies. This is inappropriate..."

Liu Yuniang shook off his hand with a serious look on her face: "It's wonderful to be alive! She's just momentarily confused. She won't want to think about it later. She won't want to think about it later. If she's alive, she can choose a good husband to marry, and maybe she can have a child... By then, she will definitely thank me."

Qi Zhengming: "..." Thank your eight generations of ancestors!

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#the life of a cannon fodder mother in law

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doc-avalon · 1 year

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The Morrigán

Name: The Morrigan (Great Queen, Phantom Queen,) Mor Rioghain, Morgain, Mórrígu, mór rígain, Morgan La Fay, The Bean-Nighe or The Washer At The Ford, The Wife of the Green Man, the Wyrd Sisters.

Symbols: Raven or Crow, spear.

Goddess of: Battle, prophecy, fertility, and sovereignty

Usual Image: A shapeshifter, she appears in many forms, a beautiful maiden, a mature woman, an ancient hag, a crow, a bear, and others.

Relatives: Ernmas (mother) Cailitin, a Druid or Delbaeth or Dagda (father) Anu, Badb, Macha or Badb the Crow, Nemain the Venomous, Fea the Hateful. (Sisters or other aspects of her or goddesses she presided over.) Eriu, Fotla, and Banba (other sisters and goddesses of the land, not other aspects of her) Mechi (Son, father unknown) had three hearts, which were three serpents. The serpents, it was foretold, would destroy Ireland, so MacCecht killed him and burnt the hearts, throwing the ash into the river Berba; even then, the ash of his hearts boiled the waters of the river away and killed all the fish in the river.

Holy Books: Book of Leinster, Book of Fermoy

Synodeities: Kali (Hinduism,) Cathbodva (Gaul.)

(The Watcher of the Ford, illustration from Cuchulain, The Hound of Ulster, by Eleanor Hull 1904)

Details: Once you look into the myths about the Irish goddess Morrigan you begin to understand why the Celts developed the Celtic knot!

At her most basic, Morrigan was a goddess of battle, who did not take part in the battle itself, but instead stirred up strife, then flew over the battle in the form of a crow who picked who would die by casting confusion on them, afterward feasting on their remains.

Not your warm and affectionate sort of goddess, yet she was also a goddess of fertility and sovereignty, without whom the king would be powerless.

Going deeper into Morrigan (or The Morrigan as this may have at some time been a title) we find that she is also a triple goddess, who, along with either her sisters Badb and Macha or, in some accounts, Nemain the Venomous and Fea the Hateful, play a shifting role in scores of myths and legends.

What brings this goddess back in so many forms and guises, and age after age, returns in another form, even if this means mixing aspects that are both grand and horrific?

An answer might be found in the theory put forth by Ralph Abraham, mathematician, historian & Chaos theorist, in the book Chaos, Gaia, & Eros (1994, Harper Collins.)

To oversimplify it for this page, his theory is that three main forces have driven human consciousness through the ages, which he calls.

Gaia: The physical existence and living spirit of the created world.

Eros: The spiritual medium connecting Chaos & Gaia, the creative impulse and

Chaos: The creative void, the source of all forms.

From the Paleolithic to the present, these three forces moved us forward, with at times one or more of them being suppressed only to resurface again and again.

Whoever the original goddess was who returned as the Morrigan, she was most likely first worshipped in a very different form sometime between 10,000 & 4,000 B.C.E. During what he called the Gaia span (agriculture/partnership.)

With the coming of the Eros span, 4,000 B.C.E. to +/- 1962 A.D. (the wheel, patriarchy & science), she was re-imagined by a new way of thinking that often feared Chaos and almost always had, as part of its dominant mythos, the conquest of Chaos by a hero or god representing Order.

In this way, Morrigan changed from life-giver to carrion eater, and yet the three forces she is a part of continue to bring her back in multi-triad forms.

So that as the Eros span grew, she was not undone or put away but continued to shapeshift.

Changing from setting as a raven on the shoulder of dead Cú Chulainn to reappearing as Morgain La Fey in the tales of King Author, or as the wife of the Green Man and tempting Sir Gawain, to stirring the cauldron for Macbeth as the Wyrd sisters, and later as part of the Celtic Fairy faith, becoming the Bean-Nighe who is seen washing the bloody clothing of those who are about to die.

The thing is, in this theory, the Eros span has now begun to be overtaken by the now-developing Chaos span (Neo-Pagan, Post Modern, Chaos Theory, and meta-modern), which offers the hope of the end of the suppression of these three forces so they can be understood with positive effect.

No doubt the form that Morrigan takes in this era, if his theory is correct, will be most interesting indeed!

#the morrigan #morrigan #triple goddess #celtic goddess #raven

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soldier-lodbrok · 1 month

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The Queen cast a curious eye over the guard-in-training. The man was from across the salt, and it was her understanding that he was suspected to be one of many who deserted Ebbe the Ironhand. Normally it would be of more concern, that a foreign powers men were landing on their coast in droves.

But they weren't a threatening presence — these were not the violent raids that the iron lands were most known for. Far from it. They were families, mostly. In search of fertile land and new beginnings.

Though this was a first. The man had a warriors build, and sought work in and around the castle. He was rejected quite a number of times, and yet here he stood, persevering until he was offered the chance to train as a guard of the wall. That meant his ridiculously proportioned axe had been denied, instead he wielded a standard issue sword, the same as any other.

One would think he would have trouble fitting in. A foreigner, bottom-of-the-rungs, regarded with open mistrust. Though he had won over the men within his circles. Enough so, his duties slowly expanded, and he finally had a post within the castle walls.

He would have remained as another face among many, had it not been for one fateful encounter. It clearly wasn't the first time her daughter had met him, though it was the first she herself had witnessed. This guard knelt and smiled at the young Princess and talked brightly with her. Ifalna watched on. Their conversation became a whirlwind, over as quick at it had started, and she found herself watching him a moment longer.

Question's had been asked. From her advisor, the captain of the Queensguard to Aerith herself. The man hadn't done any wrong, technically speaking. He was well-regarded among his peers, a hard-worker, and a natural talker. Rumour was he sent most of his coin to a brother, another tick against his name.

So, the next time Ifalna crossed paths with the cheery guard, she stopped and turned to regard him properly. "You're the one my daughter speaks with. Glenn the guard?" she questioned, the conversation a calm one. "The first time she mentioned you, I thought you were a figure in one of her stories. It sounded like she was stretching her imagination. So, is it true then? You meowed like a cat?"

He loved this kind of work. It suited him. And it was... peaceful. Yes, he was a guard now. Not much different from what he had been to Ebbe. But now he was this to the Queen of the Farmlands. And her queendom was beautiful. It was rich and calm and... warm.

They should have come here much sooner. Life was easier.

Glenn had not considered his actions towards the Princess worthy of any notion. he had treated her the same way as he had treated all the children from the Ironlands. Sure... she was royalty. But she also was just a child. They all lived on fantasy and dreams, having fun and were easily entertained. And Glenn had a hand for that.

So when the Queen suddenly halted and confronted him with this fact, Glenn didn't properly know how to react.

Looking down at her, he blinked in utter surprise. She sure was... beautiful. he had noticed that quite a few times watching her pass by from afar. She had a certain air around her, as if she was levitating on kindness. It was strange. Such a contrast to everything from their former home.

And it drew him in. So when the Queen suddenly just stood right in front of him, Glenn had to search for proper words. It was hard to think somehow...

"Uh..."

Wasn't it okay to meow like a cat? What were the proper formalities to talk to the Queen?

Scratching the back of his neck, Glenn tried a nervous grin.

"Well. I mean, she is your daughter. You are the Queen - so that makes her the Princess. So anything she demands from me is an order, right? And I am a guard, who has to follow these. So... yes. I am Glenn the guard - who meowed like a cat! Want a demonstration, too?"

@holyguardian

#holyguardian #verse | medieval #i am... so sorry ifalna

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the-voxel · 7 months

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Journal Entry Two

I awoke this morning to John's soft sounds of discomfort. It was a moment before I remembered where I was, but then the previous night's events returned to me. I am stranded on an unknown alien world with only one know survivor of my crew other than myself, and the locals have us in their village. I admit, when I woke this morning my spirits were not high.

We were brought breakfast by an handful of locals. They were lead by an older individual who leaned on a can for support and had a greying beard and was decorated in what I could only guess was ornamentation to designate his high social status. But my eyes were not drawn to his jewels and braided wire jewelry. No. My eyes were beckoned by a flash of emerald green that reflected for a moment to dazzle the entire room in dancing green light as it passed through a beam of early morning light. The green belonged the a local girl who, instead of the standard blues of the other members of her people, had hair that was green as a rare gem and shiny as the rare spider silk thread of Homeworld IV.

Before I gathered my thoughts, her and the others set down trays of fruit and some sort of porridge and left the room. I was then alone with only the elder, who began to speak gently to me.

His language was strange to me. His voice reminded me of my days as a boy, hunting deer on the King's land for meat and scurrying home when I heard a guard to avoid arrest. And when the elder spoke some words, it almost sounded like two voices speaking at once, but the words came from his mouth alone. He must have realized I have no home of understanding, because he moved to John's side and put a hand on my companion's chest, then made a sound like rattled breathing.

I listened carefully to John's breath, my ear to his chest, and found it was true. John seemed to have fluid of some kind building in his lungs. An easy fix if I could go back to my ship and salvage medical supplies.

I attempted to explain as much, but the old man could not understand the wider galaxy's civilized speech. A minor frustration, but nothing I am not equipped to work around.

After an exchange of charades, I was allowed out of the hut, which was a blessing as the ceiling was so short I could not stand up properly.

Outside in the light of day, I was able to finally breath. The air here is rich, making it easy to feel awake and invigorated. I will have to retrieve equipment for testing, but I can see the lack of pollution and feel the high oxygen levels. I would love to know what else I am breathing.

The gravity of the world is somewhat low, which made my spirits feel lighter, and my hopes rise to the belief that I can make the best of this situation.

Once I took stock of the location, it became evident that this village was larger than my initial estimate. I expected only a few dozen, or a hundred individuals at this location. But after a short walk, I can say there are at least a thousand people living in this town.

The place is in full flood, and I speculate that as a normal seasonal occurrence, as all the streets are made of raised boardwalks, and houses are built on stilts.

A wooden wall surrounds the entirety of the village, with guard stations mounted to the top. And one thing I had to learn fairly quickly, through a complicated exchange, all washrooms are mounted on the wall. When I approached one, I expected little more than an outhouse that dumped my excrement into the water outside. Imagine my surprise to be met with genuine plumping, and pipes that took it away to a safe distance. From what I could see through the little peephole, they use an aquifer system to take sewage to fields, where I can only assume it is used to fertilize crops.

Alas I have saved the most vexing technological feature for last. Over the sky of the entire village is a dome of energy, one that looks almost as sophisticated as the energy barriers used in space faring races. This dome seems to be powered by several massive crystals that buzz with energy. I will investigate this further.

My efforts to go to my ship were in vain. Any time a local realized my intent to leave the wall, I was immediately barred from exit. Every gate was guarded by locals in grey uniforms. No amount of explaining my urgency swayed their ruling.

Eventually I went back to John, who was awake by this time. I explained the situation, and, ever a good friend, he told me to calm my nerves. He had been tended to with the strange medicine of these creatures, and for now was okay. I shall focus for now on gaining enough trust to be allowed outside of the walls of this village.

PREV - NEXT

#journal entries #voxel tech #voxel architecture

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asoiafandotherbooks · 11 months

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TWOIAF/Fire & Blood: Maegor, Ceryse, and Alys

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

Thanks to everyone but the king, Aenys managed to survive the multiple rebellions that broke out in the first months of his reign. He has now appointed Maegor, his younger brother, as the Hand of the King.

The brothers were able to smoothly rule together from 37 to 39 AC. Then the problems arose.

Queen Alyssa gave birth to Vaella, a girl who died shortly afterward. Maegor decided this would be the perfect time to take a second wife. Maegor arrived at Dragonstone and wed Alys Harroway, the daughter of the new Lord of Harrenhal. The wedding was a Valyrian rite, performed by the Dowager Queen Visenya. Maegor announced his second marriage while proclaiming Lady Ceryse Hightower (his first wife) to be barren.

What was it about Alys that caught Maegor’s eye? Exceptional beauty? Wit? Great birthing hips? Was he close to the Harroway family? She was there when he decided to take a second wife?

Aenys wasn’t happy as the wedding took place without his “leave, knowledge, or presence”. I am unsure why Aenys expected anyone to consult him before making a decision. Yes, Aenys is king but one who has no respect – from anyone. And Maegor doesn’t seem the type to request permission before he makes a move.

Aenys had a fit, Lord Manfred Hightower (father of Ceryse) had a fit. The High Septon in Oldtown had a fit. Many “pious” lords in the realm protested. Maegor remained defiant – his father married multiple women, so why can’t he? He believed the strictures of the Faith might “rule lesser men but not the blood of the dragon”. I wonder if this is where Jaehaerys received his inspiration for his later proclamation? You would think the Faith would be happy it didn’t involve incest.

The High Septon and the lords are rather hypocritical. They all kept their mouths shut about polygamous marriages while Aegon was king. A former High Septon even crowned Aegon! Multiple lords were throwing their daughters at Aegon throughout his reign – despite the presence of his wives.

I understand Manfred Hightower’s protest – multiple wives threaten his daughter’s position and if another wife gives birth to a child – well it won’t be his bloodline intermixing with the Targaryens. The Faith and the rest of the lords need to be told to “shut your mouth and know your role”. (To quote the Rock). They had a chance to protest when Aegon established his regime – it is a case of “too little, too late” to make stipulations on Targaryen marriages (at least while they still have dragons to back their actions).

We know the reason all these lords have protests – Aenys is a weak king and they want to push him around. As well as cause division between the two brothers. The game of thrones isn’t always played on the battlefield. Remove Maegor and Visenya from the equation and you’re left with a Targaryen who won’t use his dragon in battle. Easy pickings.

Aenys decided to (finally!) take a stand: put Alys Harroway aside or endure five years of exile. Maegor chose option 2 and departed for Pentos with Alys, Balerion, and Blackfyre. Aenys requested that Maegor leave Blackfyre but was told “no”. Can you imagine the poor citizens of Pentos when Maegor arrives on Balerion? I guarantee Maegor and Alys didn’t have to pay for a thing their entire stay. Pentos would be grateful that Maegor didn’t go the route of “Conquest, part 2: the Essos edition”.

Aenys made Septon Murmison the Hand of the King. He also had Septon Murmison lay hands on Ceryse’s belly every night to make her fertile. Lady Ceryse tired of this effort and left King’s Landing to rejoin her family in Oldtown.

Poor Ceryse – this entire situation was humiliating for her. Proclaimed publicly as barren, husband takes a 2nd wife (was she even told before Maegor announced it publicly?), abandoned, and forced to have a strange man paw at her belly in an effort to make her fertile. How were Aenys and Murmison planning to test Ceryse’s fertility after these laying of hands rituals? Have Maegor sleep with her after five years of exile? When she would be forty-two years old? Was she supposed to test out her new-found fertility on a man and then “moon tea” the baby out of existence? Simply accept the Septon’s insistence she was now fertile. Was Maegor faithful to Ceryse throughout his marriage? He seems insistent Ceryse is the problem but if he was straying from the marital bed – shouldn’t he be wondering why there aren’t any dragonseeds running around?

Exiling Maegor didn’t bring Aenys peace. The High Septon continued to bluster about Targaryens, and now the lords wondered how Aenys could govern the realm when he couldn’t even control his brother.

In short, Aenys played into his opponents’ hands and lost his strongest supporters. Maegor is in Pentos, and I doubt Visenya has much patience left for Aenys’ weakness.

Up next, Aenys’ eldest children wed.

#asoiaf #game of thrones #twoiaf #house targaryen #aenys targaryen #maegor targaryen #maegor the cruel #ceryse hightower #alys harroway #manfred hightower #house hightower #high septon #septon murmison #pentos

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the-corner-window · 2 years

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Revelation

"What do you stand for?"

The "hero" slumped against the base of a statue, the wheeze of her labored panting audible across the room. She unfastened her crumpled armor and let it fall beside her broken sword as to keep from smothering. Her tunic from the collar down was stained with blood and sweat, rugged at the hems and seams from the hardships she'd endured along her travels, with many small tears in places that her cuirass couldn't cover. The royal sigil was engraved on the medallion hanging around her neck, no longer obscured by the now discarded breastplate.

"A people in need of a champion."

My eyes lingered on the medallion. The crest depicted a winged man with outstretched arms, one hand holding a sword with the blade pointing down while the other clasped the head of a serpent coiled up to his shoulder.

"A people with no heed for the folk of the land. Your ancestors came from distant shores to reap the yield of fields sown of sorrow, fertilized by the blood of Fae too naïve to be wary." I removed my helmet and traced the contour of my pointed ears, a distinction of my Faeborn ancestry. My fingers then came to rest at the base of my horns which further indicated my Draconian bloodline. These horns were prized among her people as trophies of conquest against the "daemons" of the new world. "Tell me Hero. When you gaze upon my visage do you see a monster? Does the taper of my ears mark me an atrocity?" "You seek to deny us a life of peace, your deeds are what mark you a monster, not your face."

"You claim that my deeds are of monstrous intent, yet all that I've done is defend my people. Your hunters encroach on our homes seeking to carve these horns from mothers and children and sell them to 'nobles'. There is hardly nobility in ordering slaughter. The wings of sprites are being plucked at the behest of alchemists with absent morals. What peace is there amidst the destruction they've wrought?"

As she struggled to stand upright her boots slid along the tile while her faulds clanked against the polished stone supporting her weight. The tile below her feet was besmirched by pooling blood as it trickled down her scorched greaves. She looked up from her buckling knees and attempted to cut me down with her glare since she lacked the strength to brandish a weapon. She twisted her face like a cornered beast as I approached her step by step.

"The oracles preach of your jealousy, that the savages of this land wish to bring us low with deceptions and beasts controlled by wild magicks."

"We haven't the means to control the creatures you speak of, magical or otherwise."

"I've seen villages where faeries walk alongside monsters."

"We show reverence to the creatures of our lands, and tend to them in ways not wholly apart from your shepherds and livestock. We have no more agency over the wilds than you. We've merely approached co-operation as opposed to domination. A lesson your leaders obviously have yet to reflect on."

Her eyes darted around the room looking for an escape, but her body lacked the energy to spring into action, and increasingly they flitted back toward mine, eventually coming into lock with my own unwavering gaze. Her shaky breaths still too shallow to allow her a moment of relief. I stopped my encroachment just a few strides away, leaving enough room between us to keep her from readily lashing out.

"You've been blinded by your loyalty to the word of deceivers that you don't even understand the symbol you wear."

"The winged figure is our God, in one hand wielding righteous fury as he shows dominion over the beasts of the land. I know the tenets the Oracles transcribe from the legacy of our forefathers by heart."

"Yet in their hubris they are ignorant of the true meaning in his bearing, for my people too have his mark in our lore. Though the I see over time your Oracles have omitted his horns."

"What are you-"

Her words came to a halt as my cloak flung backward, no longer obscuring my silhouette. Emerging from underneath heavy fabric come feathers the color of dark wine, spreading wide and unveiling my armor made of onyx serpent scales laid upon golden fur. The stripped tendril of an Everwillow carved in the form of the Great Winged Serpent coiled down my left arm with its head swallowing my palm as a bracer. When the realization of what she's witnessed washed over her face I couldn't help but smirk in amusement.

"We are not gods, but we are ancient."

#fantasy #short story #creative writing

0 notes

nityarawal · 2 years

Text

11/8/22

All The Colors Of The Rainbow

Part 3

"I Like Your Vibe"

Morning Songs

Just Saw A

Rainbow

Hanging Over

Thomas Mountain

Sprinkling And

Getting Ready For Snow

Gotta Vote

Up The Mountain

Need A Ride

Need WiFi And

Water

Living On The

Edge Of The

Universe

Like An Alien

On #BLM

Next Door

Why Does

Land Endowed

For Camping

Have Same Name

As #BlackLivesMatters

Slaves

#BLM Is The Wilderness

That Belongs To All Of

If I Were Camping

Today On The Pacific

Coast Trail

I Might Not Make It

Like Cheryl Strayed

In "Wild"

Just Survived

So Much Pride

That Book Gives

Me Songs

Dear Sugar

Only Touching

The Edges Of

Idyllwild

Mountain Center

Santa Rosa Mountain

Obama's Beauty Wilderness

Tuwiliger

Cahuillan Art

Much Like Picasso

If He'd Carved Boulders

Someone Had A Vision

Building

Dinosaurs

Out Of Rocks

Pre-Historic Birds

Indian Lingums

Fertility Sites

Stories In Heiroglyphs

Fish Like

Disney's Greatest

Vision

Swimming Down Rivers

To Springboxes

In Aguanga

How Did All The

Artists Know

Oh My God

There's A Full Rainbow

Oh My God

All The Way Across The Sky

It's Gone

Shoot

Should've Taken The Picture

Oh Wow

That Was Stunning

Thankyou God

Mahalo

How Did They Know?

"I Like Your Vibe!"

A Miracle

Just Saw A Rainbow

Across The Sky

"I LIke Your Vibe!"

How Did They Know

Artists Sometimes

Resonate

So High

Did It Really

Happen

Yeah

I Just Saw

A Rainbow

Across The Sky

It's Gonna Snow

I'm Gonna Vote

Somehow

Call A Nice Handyman

Or Girlfriend

Trudge

Up To Idyllwild

Like Pilgrims

For Hundreds of Years

Before Me

Weather Said

Snow At 10am

Pretty Rough In A Lexus

Lemon

No Windshield Wipers

Had To Pull Over Every

2 Minutes

All The Way Home

From Anza

Diamond

Droplets

Rivers

On My Windshield

My Favorite Element

Water- Agua Pura

Please

How Can A Man

Live For 40 Years

With Water Off And On

How Can Our Counties

Harass Our People

Like This

About Such An Important Element

70% Of Our Bodies

Are Made Of Agua Pura

People

How Can A Man

Alive Be Wondering

If He'll Lose His

Home

In Probate

Or Divorce Courts

Soon Civil Soldiers

Come- Only One

Thing Can Be

Done

Pray To God

Pray To Holy

Unified Field

Natural

Cosmic

Law

Allah

Buddha

Christ Almighty

Gautama

Mother Mary

Amma

Mamma

We Respect Them All

We Might Not Have

Tasted All The Colors

Of The Rainbow

But Our Hearts

Did

Siddhartha - Hesse

Rumi - Hafiz

Saedde

Our Hearts Did- JFK

Marilyn Monroe

Jackie-O

Our Hearts Saw

Flames Of Your Love

John Lennon

Sonny

Even Though

Your Long Gone

I Felt I Had A

Purple Rose Of Cairo

Moment With

George Harrison

And Saw His Face

Appear On A

Fertility Rock

Shiva Lingum

Jai

Hare Hare Shiva Ram

Wally Says It's

Like The Caves

In India That

Miraculously

Fill With Crystal's

Lunar Moons

Same Sulfer Water

Minerals I Love

Agua Calliente

Of The Mountains

San Bernadino

Is A Serious Range

Had No Wipers

Registration

Insurance

Lexus Warranty

Expired- They

Kidnapped Me On

A Bribe With

Atty Ashby Clark Sorrenson

And Therapist

Julie Anne Steiger

Slumlorded Me

For Custody

Mental Health Warrants

Restraining Orders

From My Own Attorney

Felt Like She Hooked

A Rockstar We Liked

Lied About Her

Loyalities On A Bribe

CPS Worker

In The Comfort Of Her

Living Room

Office

Chalet

I Told Her Every

Thing And She

Burned Me And

Moved

11 Months

Into Our 1 Year Court

Contract

Back To Hawaii

An Auntie

I Listened To

David The Page

Loved His Astronaut Band

Spaceman Trilogy

For Years Tried

To Understand

How She Must've

Shrank Him

Was It For The CIA

I Saw Their Pictures

On Instagram

Looked Like A Fiance

Yet She Lied

Said She Didn't

Know Him

Sat On The Edge

Of Her Seat

Reeled Me In For

Bribes

11 Months Of Recorded

Weekly History

Paid Her $5,000

Dollars $100 Weekly

She Enjoyed Drawing

From My Card

Saw Her At All The Fancy

Vegan Restaurants And Cafes

Dressed So Warm And Cozy

In Knits

Made Idyllwild Seem

Safe

Yet No Alibi

Or Loyalty

To The Sisterhood

She Threw Me Out

On A Bribe

To RPDC

With Broken Ribs

Covid 19

Like 3 other Therapists

From IEHP

Hope And Healing

I can't Reccomend

Nor Calm

And Ground Counselling

Tima Ivanova

Only Want To Talk

About The Murders

Of Emily

Pearson

Julie Anne Steiger Advised Me

To Stay With Irish Rock star

Darin David Joye

Also Known As Diego

Of Birds Of Olympus &

Old Yellers Too

From Oregon Olde Country

But He Had A Bride

And A Step Grandbaby

Waiting back in Wicklow, Ireland

Didn't Understand

Deceit of Dating A Married Man

Under False Pretence

Against Irish Catholic Laws

And My Scottish Faith

Pope Francis

Wouldn't Approve

Darin

Lied To Us A Bribe

Bullied For A Plea

With Atty Ashby Clark Sorrenson

Dari Was My Caretaker

Romeo's Too

Enjoyed My Lexus

With Spud

From Our

Birds Of Olympus

When I Was Caged

Like Abi Odam

For Silencing.org

Beardsley

Mommy Shaming

At Las Calinas

Ladies Detention Center For

UK #PrinceOfPegging Ivy League

Marine Officers

Hiding Their Crimes

With Gag Orders

Cambridge Analytica

Facebook

Federal Government

Divorce

IRS Stripped

My Accounts

Creditors Attacked

Divorce Crushed

My Little Home

Cold- Handyman

Dennis- Lumber

Jack Shined Me For

Two Months while

He and His Jezabelle

Had Covid

I Wrote Josh and

Dhani- Burnin'

Pinecones

Prayers For The Universe

It Was Magical

No Money

But Cupboards

Full Of Herbs

Dulses

Seaweed

Vinegars

Oils Nutbutters

Harvested Manzanita Berries

Made Hot Cider From Garden Bushes

I Survived

I Ate Well

Like An Asian

Miso- Gomazio

Sprouted Lentils

Lemons

Dahl

Toasted Sesame Seeds

I Enjoy Food

Salty Sweet

Strong Tastes

Ayurvedically

All 6 Flavors of The Rainbow

Satisfy Me

Even Bitter

Sour

And Astringent

I'm So Thirsty

"I Like Your Vibe,"

I Wish I Could

Eat With You

All The Colors

Of The Rainbow

Every Vegetable

And Fruit And

Flavor Too

I Like Your

Cuisine

Mahalo

Merci

Gratzia

Prego

Ciao

Nitya Nella Davigo Azam Moezzi Huntley Rawal

0 notes

littlepatchofhell · 2 years

Note

A wide variety of writing prompts:

• take off your jacket, your heart is one your sleeve

• superhuman strength? Check. Understanding social cues? Still working on that

• haunted love hotel spoils the party

• "join us next week as we burn other people's memories"

• "you just know me pretty well, that's all. You're not like super smart or anything"

• the burns along your ribs were not enough to recollect

• "You're doing gentle things with your hands. Towards me. It's throwing me off. Give me a second and I'll be fine"

• does the moon always laugh behind my back

• my fiance left me...in the arms of the boy next door. Thanks? I guess??

• doing nothing is complicated

Oh no, not the thing I asked for! (jk, thanks a lot, I appreciate the push.)

This will be loose but... I'll go with "You just know me pretty well, that's all. You're not like super smart or anything." TW: gore Characters: Xilo Graphia and Vanita Mori

The day had been long and grueling. One full of bad decisions and worse compromises and more bad news from the head of the conclave of agriculture.

Vanita was very much considering beheading the conclave. The current man in charge never did anything but tell her the obvious, the desert is cruel and crops will not grow. He needed more money to waste, a larger water budget to squander, more land to deem useless.

She wanted to see how well the crops would grow with the head of the conclave as fertilizer. If his mouth could not produce any plans worth listening to, maybe it would be better put to use cultivating lettuce sprouts.

"It won't work," Xilo sighed as they sat her down to ready her for bed. They continued as they undid the chain of silver crow skulls with practiced ease, lifting her veil out and away from the points of her crown with one swift motion. "Too much salt and iron in the blood, my Empress."

Vanita hated how predictable her mind had become to her servant. In these dark times, when her body failed her more and more frequently and she found her own mind veering out of her grasp into destinations that even she found frightening, who was Xilo to presume to know her thoughts? Who was Xilo to presume to know more about the nutritional needs of plants than her?

Spite boiled in her as Xilo's nimble fingers let down her hair, strand by twisted strand.

"I don't know what you're talking about" she said finally.

Xilo raised one thin eyebrow but did not so much as pause in their work. "Of course, my Empress." -Later-

Vanita waited patiently for Lito, her captive scholar, to say everything he'd been wanting to say since he'd seen her last. She could barely hear him over the grind of her own teeth as the darkness of the dungeons seemed to close in on them, threatening extinguish their little lamp and swallow them both whole.

"-in short, the late, great master of the early Astuvian study of agriculture, Hedera, was indeed an excellent scholar on the matter of the cultivation of a vegetable not entirely unlike our radish, but an absolutely sun-spited writer. He will say one thing then its opposite immediately after. It is honestly the most frustrating piece of text I've ever had the misfortune of reading since-"

She could bear his rambling no longer and cut in with the question she came down here to answer. "Lito, if one were to say... plant lettuce in the body of a 40 year old Astuvian noble... would it grow?"

Lito scoffed, his bearded face twitching in a few directions before he pinned her under his intense, prisoner's stare. "Of course not. There are many accounts of battlefields going barren for generations after the war has ended. I haven't seen a study on the matter, but it can be assumed that blood does not make good fertilizer." ~400 words

#asks answered #my writing #saved for a rainy day #C: Vanita Mori #C: Xilo Graphia #C: Lito Graphia

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charnelhouse · 2 years

Text

like a relaxing holiday

Pairing: Thor x F!Reader Wordcount: 1.2+K Warnings: beach sex. mentions of hair. implied breeding vibes. fluff. Summary: Maybe, they can finally rest.

Thor Masterlist

“That tickles,” she huffed as Thor scraped his beard across her bare shoulder.

His lips descended onto her lower back - peppering kisses along her spine. The ends of his hair caressed her skin, and she shivered. “I like the effect,” he hummed as he continued to stroke the flesh available to him, fingers dancing along the shape of her.

They settled into another warm silence. The twin suns beat down upon them as they lounged naked by the platinum ocean. It was silver-blue - the same color as liquid mercury. The Guardians had opted to take the beach on the other side of the island after Thor had loudly declared that he’d be “having non-stop sex until the next morning.”

“Come watch if you want a lesson in the art of love-making,” he declared. “I know Quill could use the pointers.”

“Absolutely not,” she growled. “If you keep advertising our sex life, I’m making you room with Drax.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would, and Quill will room with me.”

“Awesome.”

“Shut up, Peter.”

“Is it weird?”

He lifted his head. “Is what weird?”

“Doing nothing?”

“It’s a holiday,” he reminded. He braced his weight above her, and she could feel the blunt tip of his cock against her ass. He had been insatiable since they’d landed, which wasn’t all that different from how he was on the ship. She felt him guide his length between the cleft of her rear, his hips seesawing lazily. The act was intimate. There was a sensual desperation in the way he enjoyed rubbing himself against her body, gluing his skin to her skin even when he wasn’t buried inside her. “We are supposed to do nothing.” He cleared his throat before adding. “In addition to a disturbing amount of lovemaking.”

“Perv,” she giggled before grinding back against him. He groaned, his forehead dropping against the middle of her back, his lips catching the sand stuck to her skin.

“What do you expect?” he muttered as the blunt, hot press of his cockhead began to breach her. “Two fertility gods,” he inhaled sharply, drawing back just an inch before sinking into her cunt in one long, deliberate stroke. Her fingers curled into the purple sand, and she shoved her face into her towel, muffling the cry spinning in her throat. “We thrive on fucking,” he finished.

With his bicep wrapped around her chest, he hauled her up, so her back was against his sternum. He flattened his other palm to the towel in order to leverage his heft before he began to rock into her. Her fingers found his braid, scraping his scalp. She grunted at the stretch of his cock that always left her feeling bruised and achy regardless of how many times they’d had sex already. He was salty and slick with sweat and smelled so much like the sea that lapped at the coast only feet from them. He also smelled like man - just ripe muscles and tender flesh as he tightened his grip on her, his nose in her hair as he mumbled dirty praise.

“Do you understand how fucking tight your cunt is?”

“Wettest in the galaxy.”

“I’m going to lick myself out of you when I’m done stuffing you full of seed.”

Gods.

He was so blunt.

The steel band of his arm left her chest so he could slide his hand up and grasp her throat. He jerked it back for a fierce kiss, his tongue parting the swell of her lips and plunging deep, mimicking the demanding pump of his hips against her ass.

She was already sore. She was chafed, sun-dazed, and a bit dizzy, but she could feel the budding root of her climax. Fuck, he could make her come like no other. “Lift your ass,” he commanded, and she did, abruptly changing the angle as he continued to thrust down into her. His hand left her throat, and he slipped it beneath them, fingers finding her damp curls and plucking insistently at the nub at the peak of her sex.

“Oh shit,” she cursed - her lower muscles bearing down, her cunt contracting sharply around the drag of his cock. He was scorching hot - a damn sunburn- searing through her and making her spread herself for him. He was opening her up - stretching her obscenely.

“Come,” he whispered, nipping her ear. “Come for me.”

It wasn’t even the fact that his hand was so possessively cupping her pussy as he fucked it. It wasn’t how each snap of his hips hit something tender within the cradle of her pelvis.

It was the noises he was making - those feral, low grunts of hunger and desire and her God falling to pieces at the feeling of her body wrapped snug around his.

His fingers played her, rolling the bead of her clit through her soaked curls, tracing the line of her folds as he shoved her over the edge. She could feel him hiding his face in her shoulder, their bodies moving together like a well-oiled machine of constants and learned behavior.

You and me. A thousand years.

“Fuck,” he snarled as she clenched around him. He was throbbing and swollen as he claimed her in shorter, desperate strokes. She reached behind, slipping her fingers into his hair and fisting it.

“Thor,” she breathed - letting her walls flutter around him, tightening up. It was too much. The almost painful stab of his cock inside her was bleeding into pleasure. “C’mon,” she encouraged. “Please...”

“You want it?” His voice was husky, tipping right over the peak. “Tell me you fucking want it, my love.”

“Yes,” she whimpered. “Yes.”

He gripped her waist, his hands unyielding and harsh, his pace clumsy as he finally buried himself as far as he could reach. Maybe - further. Maybe - he momentarily blended with her own body, crept into her bones, permeated her skin, and swallowed her breath. She felt his release as it filled her. There was the warm burst of it flooding her womb, his hips jerking the last of his release. He lost his balance and collapsed on top of her, thoroughly pinning her to the sand-coated towel.

She didn’t mind it. She could handle the weight of him even if he was crushing her lungs. He was still inside her, his cock softening as he slowly rutted against her ass with a few last, short thrusts. He’d gone out of his way to keep her crammed full of his spend the entire weekend, and she idly wondered if it would take.

They hadn’t planned it. They hadn’t really discussed it. It was just an unspoken agreement. Fertility gods and all. They fucked like rabbits beyond this, but now she was certain. She wanted that glinting dream of a child - a family.

They could return to New Asgard. Thor could help Val with politics and diplomacy. She could occasionally go out on a mission since Fury was still calling them to ask for aid if they could give it.

“If I die underneath you, it’s going to be very embarrassing,” she finally wheezed. Thor started and immediately lifted himself off her, rolling to the side and kicking up sand.

“Sorry! Sorry!” He apologized, stroking his palm down her back, squeezing her hip. “Are you alright?” He dragged a shaky hand through his tangled hair. “That-that was Valhalla itself! I think I went temporarily blind.”

She snorted. “You’re such a nerd.”

He swatted her ass, and she yelped, punching him in the shoulder. He winced, but his eyes were still star-bright, glittering within the backdrop of their soft, warm paradise.

Then there was silence aside from the crash of the waves against the beach and the faraway call of birds. He stared at her for a moment, his hand gripping the nape of her neck, his thumb rubbing soothing circles behind her ear. She knew what he was trying to communicate. His eyes drifted down to where she rested on her stomach.

When he smiled at her, it was so full of adoration that it made something burn behind her nose. She blinked it away, finding his hand and threading their fingers together. She lifted his knuckles to her mouth and kissed them.

#thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #thor x you #thor x female reader #thor #thor odinson #thor fanfiction #thor imagine #thor odinson imagine #thor odinson x you #marvel #thor x ofc

951 notes · View notes

kashi-prompts · 2 years

Note

Kakashi sees fem!Reader in a kimono for the first time, and finally can't deny his feelings.

Prompt: Above

Rating: MA

TRIGGER WARNING: This prompt has graphic description of an attempted sexual assault (not by Kakashi). If this is triggering for you, I hope you can find comfort in another one of my fics. I promise I'll write something fluffy later.

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader

***

The mission scroll slid across Tsunade's desk, the ink bold and freshly written. A red finger pointed to the kanji lettering, pressing the Jonin to observe, but his mind was elsewhere.

"Hatake," Tsunade warned. His dark eye shot up, connecting with hers. Her stern gaze slumped his shoulders. He shoved his hands further into his pockets.

It wasn't like him not to pay attention to a mission brief, nor was it like him to feel rather apathetic towards such a high-ranking mission. He nodded his head and mumbled an apology.

"What's going on with you lately? You seem distracted the last month or so," the Hokage questioned, sitting back in her chair. Cocking her head to the side inquisitively, her amber eyes met his.

"Nothing," Kakashi responded quickly, waving a dismissive hand. His spine straightened in a demonstration of attentiveness. "Just a little worn."

"Anything on your mind?" Tsunade quirked an eyebrow up.

"No, I'm fine," he said defiantly, clearing his throat.

"Please pay attention then."

Behind him, the oak entry slid open against the linoleum, and footsteps appeared beside him.

"Ah, [y/n]," Tsunade cooed, "thank you for coming."

"Thank you for having me, m'lady," [y/n] bowed slightly.

Kakashi could feel his body go rigid as she appeared beside him. He glanced over at her, giving her a curt nod. Of all people, he thought.

"I have a mission for you both - and it may not be an easy one, but I have faith that you'll both be able to pull it off. Both of you have a different skill set that I feel is valuable to the outcome of this mission."

"I am honored, m'lady," [Y/n] bowed her head in thanks.

"Mhm, well - on the outskirts of the Land of Earth, there is a prestigious - and rather new, might I add, village that goes by the name of the Village of Gold.”

“Gold?” Kakashi questioned.

“They’re rolling in it,” Tsunade responded, almost bitterly. “But that is beside the point. We have been commissioned by a neighboring smaller village, the Village Hidden in the Lotus, to obtain a scroll that they suspect the Gold has confiscated. This scroll is a relic to them, one that they traditionally use to assist with their crop growth - their main source of income."

“Interesting, and what does the Gold need with this scroll?”

“That is a good question,” Tsunade sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Intel tells me that their soil is fertile, so I can't imagine the Gold has any business needing assistance with crop growth. My guess is that they want more land. The more vulnerable and poor the Lotus is, the easier it will be for the Gold to take over. At least, that could be part of the reason. You'll both have to figure out the rest. ”

“And our mission?” [Y/n] asked.

“Retrieve the scroll from the Gold,” Tsunade replied, rolling the mission paper back up and handing it to Kakashi. He looked down at it before tucking it in the top pocket of his flak jacket.

“You leave tonight. I anticipate it will take the evening to travel there, followed by a day to scope out everything. Find the scroll, and bring it back here. Don't kill anyone, and don't let anyone know who you are or we will find ourselves in a war we don't want to be involved in. Need I emphasize more that this is a stealth mission? DO NOT make a scene. Understand?”

Both heads nodded at the Hokage's words. She glanced between them both, a suspicious look in her eye.

"Have you two ever been on a team before?" she asked abruptly.

"Not a two man team, m'lady," Kakashi responded quickly. [Y/n] glanced over at him, his gaze straight ahead at his superior. She nodded her head, her eyes still fixated between the two of them before taking in a deep breath. The tension could be cut with a knife between the two standing shinobi. [Y/n] closed her eyes in shame, her mind traveling back to that mission months ago.

"I understand what you're saying," Kakashi had replied quietly, the fire a twinkling glow against his sharp profile. “But... you- you deserve someone better than me. Trust me.”

"I don't understand," she had said, shaking her head. "Why do you say that?"

[Y/n] sat beside him on the ground, her eyes round in anticipation of his response. She blinked, wondering if he would respond to her question. A moment passed, then two. Her eyes fell, looking away in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, looking over to her.

His gaze was genuine, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. In the tent beside her, she could hear Yamato sleeping, their whispers drowned out by his incessant snoring. Her chest tightened uncomfortably. The risk she had taken to confess what she was feeling to her superior was more than she ever thought she could manage. Yet, being shot down by him, and not even directly, was worse.

"Right," Tsunade nodded, her gaze still apprehensive. "Well, there is one other thing you'll need before you leave. Formal attire. I don't expect you to travel in it, but you cannot enter the Gold Village's grounds without it. It would make for an obvious discovery of who you are. You'll find it in those bags behind you. Now go, and come back in one piece, will you both?"

***

Kakashi hitched his backpack up over his shoulder. The silence between them was deafening. Of course, there wasn't always chatter while traveling, but this time, he could feel the tension.

"So, how have you been?" He finally asked hours later. He knew he should have said something earlier, something witty to lighten the mood. Yet, he had nothing. Nothing to say that could fix what he had damaged.

Their friendship had once been fresh; a blossoming new relationship that he cherished beyond words- the type where you connect with someone and instantly know that you will get along with them. She was much like him. Much like Guy. Much like Yamato. Much like his friends. The moments between them were like those where that you only have with lifelong friends. The ones that have known you since you were young.

He had confided in her on long nights, and she in him. There was something special between them, a bond that he yearned for since that one mission where things had changed. My, how he regretted that night.

"Fine," [y/n] responded curtly, her sandals kicking a rock as they walked.

"That's good," he replied awkwardly. A bird cawed above them, dusk finally coming to a close. The bushes running parallel to the path rustled with nights early wind.

“What’s that over there?” She asked, pointing to the horizon.

“I’m not sure,” Kakashi stopped, observing.

“You’re the one with the map,” [y/n] mumbled beside him.

"Right," Kakashi replied quietly, pulling the scroll from the breast pocket of his flak jacket. "Looks like its a hot spring. This is good, we can freshen up and stay there for the night. It'll be less suspicious if we aren't musty."

"Speak for yourself," [Y/n] quipped, walking towards the onsen. Behind his mask, the beginnings of a smile spread across Kakashi's lips. That was the old [y/n], he thought.

***

[Y/N]'s Perspective

"One night," Kakashi said to the inn owner behind the counter.

"Okay," the young woman smiled between the two, curious. "Here on business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure," Kakashi quickly responded.

"Oh, wonderful. I hope you enjoy your stay. Is there anything I can help you with during the day? Any directions?

Kakashi considered her question for a moment, "Just here to visit the Gold village I've heard so much about."

"Oh," the young woman frowned, looking back down at her paper. Her expression changed, hardening.

"Not a fan?" Kakashi asked.

"I suppose you can say that," she looked back up, tilting her head. "We're not affiliated, despite the close proximity. Little dishonest, vile group of people if you ask me. So please do not-"

"No worries," Kakashi lifted a hand.

"Right, well - will one room be okay for the lovely couple?"

"Two," [y/n] responded quickly. Kakashi pressed his lips together in an awkward smile to the attendant.

"Two," he confirmed curtly. The woman smiled back at him, lifting an eyebrow as she continued writing.

"And would you like dinner to be included?"

"No." "Yes." The two responded in unison.

"Yes," Kakashi responded defiantly. "Dinner would be perfect."

"Right, well, a late dinner will be served in about a half hour if you would like to get settled and meet in the private dining area. You're lucky, you're the only ones here tonight despite tomorrows festivities at the Gold."

"Tomorrow's festivities?" Kakashi questioned, signing his name as he crooked an eyebrow.

"Yes, they're having a grand opening of their artifact museum. I thought that is what you would be here for."

"Ah, no," Kakashi smiled, sliding the paper back across the counter to the attendant. "But that is great to hear. Thank you."

Outside, dusk had fallen to darkness. The birds no longer chirped, their songs quiet for the night. [Y/n] put her backpack down in her room, grateful for the moments of solitude she was afforded. Glancing towards the window, she looked out at the night sky, frowning.

She missed her friendship with Kakashi. Everyday, she thought perhaps the embarrassment of the wound she received from him would diminish. But it never did. It felt fresh, the embarrassment still new.

Thinking again back to that night, she bit her bottom lip. How could she have not known he didn't feel the same way about her? How could she have assumed he would have the same feelings? Her naivety stung.

The way he spoke to her all those nights they had stayed up talking, quiet and attentive to every word she spoke to him, making her heart race. A tender glace. A hearty laugh. Fingers brushing against skin on accident, or perhaps on purpose. Often times, she would catch him staring at her, his single eye soft with affection.

And yet, after all those signs, there was nothing to reciprocate back to her. He simply did not want her.

"Dinner's ready," she heard behind her. A turf of white hair appeared at the sliding door.

"Thank you," she turned back around, her eyes settling back out the window. "Perhaps you could knock next time."

The door slid back closed without another word. She took her time heading to dinner, making sure all her items were unpacked for the night before arriving. When she did, she realized he had waited for her before eating.

"Nice of you to finally join," he quipped, looking up from his novel. She smirked, noting the battered book in his hands. Some things never changed. His eyes never left the page until she sat opposite of him. One dark eye traveled over the top of the pages to her.

“I was busy,” she murmured, snapping apart her chopsticks. He set the book down and began to do the same.

“Did you order this?” She asked, picking at them fish on the table. Her stomach growled at the smell of it.

“I did,” Kakashi replied, almost quietly.

“Mahi Mahi?” She commented, gently placing the fish on her rice. Her favorite.

“I remembered,” Kakashi lifted his brow, making eye contact. Her cheeks prickled with warmth as she scolded herself, shoving the fish in her mouth.

“I want to talk about tomorrow,” he said moments later. “We need a plan. I have a tourist map of the city, it’s not incredibly detailed, but it will do until we find out more.”

“Do you suppose the scroll is in the artifact museum?” [y/n] queried, poking her rice.

“I have a hunch it might be. Although I don’t understand completely why they stole the scroll, I can’t imagine they would actually know how to use it. If you consider the physical description of it, one might surmise that it is of high value.”

[Y/n] nodded, “and how do you suppose we steal if it is under glass or behind some type of display.”

“Well, we'll get there when we get there. But I would imagine that is where you come in,” he smiled, pointing his chopstick at her.

“Oh, great.”

“Nothing bad. But if my assessment is correct and they are displaying it as some type of relic, then we will be posing as two art collectors looking to purchase it from them.”

“But we couldn’t possibly afford what they are looking for. Just look at this place,” she pointed to some of the scenes on the map, “a statue of a cow made of pure gold? A clock tower made of gold? Surely they drive a hard bargain.”

“Part of being a shinobi is to think quickly on your feet, this is one of those scenarios,” Kakashi replied.

“What if we can’t afford what they are asking for though? This is something we should think of before we get there.”

“Then we distract them,” Kakashi replied without hesitation, “One of the reasons you were assigned to this mission is your ability to copy physical objects of out your own chakra. Judging by the size and shape of this scroll, I doubt it would be hard for you to create a replica quickly.”

[y/n] nodded, “Right, of course. I’ll just pull it out of my ass while you stand on your head or something.”

There was a moment of silence, and she wondered if she had gone too far and disrespected him. But then she heard him let out a noise and she lifted her eyes to meet his. Suddenly, a roaring laughter came from both of them. She couldn’t help but laugh as he did. And for a moment, only one moment, it was just like old times. Just like the way they used to laugh with each other over

He caught her eye, the smile on his faced etched in the fabric of his mask. She stopped, feeling a blush creep back up her neck again as he stared at her fondly. The same tender gaze he used to give her. The one that she fell for.

"You know," he began. She held a hand up, knowing suddenly what he was about to say.

"Please, Kakashi."

"No, I'm serious," He leaned forward, his expression twisting as he struggled to find the words. "That night - when we were on that mission - I just, I really shouldn't have said what I said."

"But you did," [y/n] replied coolly, setting down her utensils. "So let's not-"

"I di-"

His words were cut short by the door sliding open, the old woman at the front desk poking her head in. Her eyes were two crescent moons, crows feet wrinkles dancing across her cheeks as she smiled at them.

“Curfew is in 15 minutes, children. Do hurry,” she offered before sliding the door shut behind her.

[Y/n] turned back to him, his eyebrows high under his messy bangs. Without another word, the two finished their meal and retired to bed.

***

The morning sun peaked through the curtains as [y/n] pressed her palms down against the silk of her kimono. It wasn’t often she wore anything besides her uniform, but it was especially unusual to find herself in formal attire.

She swept the tube of lipstick across her barren lips, feeling the delicate gloss coat them. Pressing her two lips together, she felt herself smile with satisfaction. She had awoken early to braid her hair, pinning it up in a more formal style she was surprised she even was able to manage. She hadn’t worn make up in years, yet when she was told she needed to look proper for her mission, she felt it would make the most sense given her usual dull appearance (at least, this was how she felt).

Looking back at herself in the mirror, her mind wandered to Kakashi again, a familiar yet bitter area of her mind where her thoughts often settled. Bitterness rose up in her mind at that single memory.

And to have the nerve to bring it up again last night! She thought.

Brushing her hair back with her fingers, she sighed. Just her luck she would get stuck with him on this mission. Their friendship was irreparable, even at his feeble attempt to talk about it or simply laugh like old times. She would’ve rather died than spoken about that night again.

“Hm,” she hummed contently as she admired her reflection, a smile forming at the corners of her lips.

The sound of knuckles rapping against the sliding door filled the quiet room. A knot formed suddenly in her throat as she turned at the sound of the door sliding open.

“You knocked today, but you should at least wait for me to respond,” she quipped before she even saw him, knowing.

“Well we should get-oh,”

The atmosphere in the room changed immediately.

One dark eye swiveled over to her as the remainder of his words fell from his lips. Whether he intended it or not, she felt his gaze travel down the length of her silk kimono, consuming her in a way that told her he couldn’t resist.

A stricken gaze returned to her eyes as he stood up straight and took a step towards her, composing himself. She noticed the muscles in his jaw clenched tightly under the fabric of his mask. The usually calm and composed Copy-Ninja was clearly flustered and trying desperately to hide it. The rouge she had dusted on her cheeks earlier darkened as she looked away. Surely she would melt if this continued.

“We should get going, yes,” she finished his sentence, glancing back up. He had looked away, scratching the back of his head. Was he blushing?

“Yes, of course,” he cleared his throat uncomfortably. Finally, she was able to get a good look at him as well. His kimono cinched perfectly to his body, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders.

"Here, let me get your bag," he reached over to pick up her belongings.

"I've got it," she replied just as quickly, reaching. Her hand clasped over the shoulder straps before his had reached, grazing over the back of her palm. Surely she could blame the rug for the electric shock she felt when she had touched his hand in that moment. Or the fact that his chakra nature was inherently lightning based. Anything except what it was.

She stood up, meeting his gaze. Her eyes glanced quickly at the base of his neck, watching him swallow.

Goodness, he was so handsome.

“Let's hurry then, right?” she managed, pulling her bag over her shoulder before walking past him, exiting the room before he could say another word.

***

Upon entering the village, it was clear from the start where they should head. Hitching up her long Kimono, [y/n] traveled past merchants selling festival souvenirs, gold items polished brightly to offer to any naive tourist. [Y/n] nodded to the vendor as their eyes followed her. The further down the path they took, the stranger the village appeared. It became apparent very quickly that they were one of the youngest people in the village. Even the merchants and store owners were nearing at least middle aged.

Another observation [y/n] noticed rather quickly was that there were seldom any women they passed by.

“There are hardly any women around here,” [y/n] whispered to Kakashi. He nodded, his gaze fixated ahead towards the huge building at the end of polished road. She worried their interaction had distracted him. It had certainly distracted her. The most unusual thing for such a stoic shinobi such as himself.

“Interesting,” was all he managed.

They arrived at the entrance of what looked like a museum shortly after.

"This must be it," he said to her, looking up at the gold dome that housed the museum.

Lines of older looking tourists eagerly queued for their chance to purchase tickets. [Y/n] nodded politely again at the ticket seller as he looked her up and down. Was her outfit too much? The few women she had seen had been dressed just as nice, although they were much older. She blushed nervously.

“Is this where they are housing the artifacts on display?” Kakashi asked the man, gesturing to the museum gate. The ticket seller nodded, pointing his chin to a smaller line to the side.

“If you’re looking to buy, you can head to the art dealer line over there,” the man offered.

“Art dealer, yes - perfect,” [y/n] looked up at Kakashi. She noticed he didn’t seem himself since their interaction in her room. As they walked towards the art dealers line, she took his elbow and stopped him.

“Are you okay?” She asked, meeting his gaze for the first time since that morning. "You seem distracted."

“I’m fine,” he waved a hand dismissively, looking away, “this outfit is just uncomfortable. Let's go.”

They were quickly ushered in with dignitary status through the side door. Only a handful of others followed them in, their formal attire higher end than anything [y/n] had ever seen. She picked at the fabric of her silk as she observed the stitching detail of the man in front of her.

“Finally!” A boisterous voice appeared beside them, “the day has come! Our grand opening!”

Kakashi stood straight, slipping quickly back into his calm demeanor as the goal of the mission neared. She exhaled, her eyes falling to the man who had spoken so loudly.

His beard was large and white, combed through and almost polished under the yellow lights. His robes were flamboyant and rather tacky, yet high end enough to pass as someone important.

He had to be older, she thought, much past middle age yet still agile enough to get around quickly. She looked back up at him when she realized he hadn’t said anything. Two beady eyes were staring back at her and her alone. She smiled, extending a hand as she intuitively fell into her fabricated role as a confident art dealer, just as Kakashi had.

“Yuki” she introduced, providing a fake name as she shook the man's hand. His fingers look manicured.

“Hiro Goro,” the man replied, “at your service!”

Kakashi followed suite, his hand reaching for the mans' as well. “Ren.”

“First to extend a hand! Admirable,” the man said, looking back at [y/n]. His eyes bore into hers, intent on something. The way he stared at her was unlike any way anyone had ever looked at her before. It’s was different - hungry. Her foot shifted back uncomfortably, but her expression remained confident.

“Come, come!” Goro gestured for them to follow, leaving the others who had stood in line longer up in arms. Clearly, the two of them stood out, and [y/n] wondered if it were a good thing or a bad thing to receive such special treatment.

“So, looking to buy some things for the young married couple?” Goro smiled back at them, clearly eager.

“Oh, we’re not married,” [y/n] quickly replied, flushing. “Just colleagues.”

Goro turned around quickly, almost suddenly, and raised two eyebrows, “Ah, well that is just wonderful. You're too beautiful to be taken. A lot of men must be after you!" He smiled, winking.

[Y/n] laughed uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

As Goro turned around, [y/n] felt a grip on her upper arm. “Stay close to me,” Kakashi muttered to her, the fabric of his nose against her ear. He pulled away and she looked over at him, wanting to tell him she could take care of herself, but the man spun around again before she could protest.

“So, what are we looking for?” Goro asked, walking in reverse. “Paintings? Sculptures?”

“Ah,” Kakashi spoke first, “a mix of everything.”

Goro nodded, assessing the two with a smile, “Right. Well, right this way. Let's start at the beginning.”

***

The museum was much larger than the two of them had originally anticipated. Hallways and staircases leading them to different exhibits housing artifacts from regions near and far. [Y/n] looked around, noticing different alarms set in each room, all heavily armed and ready for anyone that came near any artifact. She hummed it herself, wondering.

“There it is,” [y/n] whispered what felt like hours later, pointing discreetly to the scroll situated behind a glass wall. Kakashi looked over, acknowledging the item before returning his gaze to Goro , who was teaching them a both about a rather new looking ceramic vase he claimed was 200 years old.

[Y/n] bit her lip, assessing the situation unfolding before her. There was no way to get behind the glass. She leaned back, looking to see if there were a door of some kind, but there was nothing. Just alarms and cameras situated at every corner. There was no way Kakashi could hold off distracting him long enough for her to find the correct entrance to the exhibit, bypass the security and then somehow replicate the scroll, all without being seen. Even now, more patrons were coming through to this section of the museum, all looking curiously at the different artifacts.

Did they know this was a stolen good? Did they know any of this was probably purchased with dirty money? [Y/n] inhaled deeply, her eyes set on the scroll.

“Interested in something, Yuki?” Goro smiled, rubbing his hands together and taking the chance to come closer to her. He slid between Kakashi’s body and her own. Kakashi looked over Goro’s shoulder to her and made eye contact. His head bobbed in a sublet nod.

“Yes, this scroll over here,” [Y/n] smiled warmly at Goro, gesturing to the scroll behind the glass. “It’s quite something. We collect ancient scrolls. It says on the description that it is from the Land of Lotus?”

“Yes, yes!” Goro nodded, his cheeks red and puffy as he grinned. “Bestowed to us from one of their finest leaders. He was a friend of mine back in the day - a true warrior. But alas, they needn’t not anymore. He was gracious enough to donate it to our museum.”

[Y/n] made no sign of disbelief, despite her knowing the truth of the origin of this scroll. It disgusted her to know what a blatant lie this man was telling the whole world, all to make a profit.

“Wonderful,” she smiled, “Ren, what do you think?”

“It’ll make an excellent addition to our collection,” Kakashi nodded, stepping back between her body and Goro’s.

“Wonderful,” he repeated, “Jeri, would you please go and grab the scroll for these young folks? Wrap it up nice, would you, good sir?”

An elderly looking man in the same getup as Goro nodded, shuffling his feet away.

“Well, shall we go discuss pricing then?” The two of them nodded, giving each other a quick uneasy glance as they walked toward a back office with the man. He waved enthusiastically to a few patrons, each calling out his name as though he were an old friend of theirs. Again, [y/n] noticed the seemingly absent women in the group. She wondered what that was about.

“So, pricing,” Goro sighed, sitting down behind his large polished wooden desk in his office. Clapping his hands together, the gold rings on his fat fingers clashed as he folded them at his chest. “300,000 Ryo.”

Kakashi nodded, seemingly unfazed by the offer, “250,000,” he countered.

The old man reappeared, holding the scroll which was wrapped up in a silk piece of fabric. Goro thanked the man, shooing him away as he smiled widely at the pair. Carefully, he unwrapped it and showed it to Kakashi.

“275,000. And perhaps you’d like to throw in something else?” Goro smiled as he placed the scroll before them on the desk, this time showing his teeth in his grandiose smile. They were all perfectly straight, like little porcelains piano keys.

“I’m not sure I understand?” Kakashi cocked an eyebrow at the man. [Y/n] looked over at him, her spine cold suddenly with a chill.

“Well,” Goro laughed lightly, looking down at his desk for a moment as though it were obvious. “In the Land of Gold, we like to barter. I have something you want, you have something I want. Make sense?”

Kakashi’s chin rose, his eyes looking down at Goro as [y/n] looked between the two. Goro’s eyes landed on her, his expression haughty and dark.

“I think you have the wrong idea, Mr. Hiro,” Kakashi replied, “we do not make business like that.”

“Oh, but I do,” Goro replied quickly, standing up. “And I’ll get what I want, or you won’t get anything.”

“I don’t-“

“Fine,” [y/n] replied quickly. Kakashi looked over at her, his eye wide. He clenched his jaw, as if to say ‘what are you doing?’

“You’ll give us the scroll?” [y/n] asked, surprised at herself. Under no circumstance did she want to do this. On the contrary, she had never been more frightened of a man her life. But she couldn’t think of another plan. Kakashi would only talk in circles to him, unwilling to give her up. There was security everywhere, cameras setup at each corner. To top it off, they didn’t even have the money to begin with. Their original plan was a bust, the security of the scroll was much higher than they had originally thought.

“Don’t worry, Yuki, dear,” Goro smiled, snaking his hand between the two of them. “Of course. You have my word. I just want to get to know you. A man such as myself gets lonely, you understand, right, Ren?"

"Mr. Hiro, I don't thin-"

"Don't worry, Ren. We'll only be a little while. I just want to chat. Right, Yuki? My guards will keep you company, Ren. Yuki, darling, let's go chat in the other room, shall we?"

Behind him, two bulky middle aged men appeared, each yielding a gun. [Y/n]’s eyes widened; she had never seen a real weapon like that before. Only civilian countries used such weapons - ones that easily killed. Kakashi looked around, his mind clearly trying to think of another plan as quickly as possible while Goro ushered her to the next room over. Her body tensed as his hand slid up her back.

Tsunade’s words echoed in [y/n]’s mind, “don’t kill anyone and don’t make a scene. We don’t need to get involved in a war.”

Her eyes locked with Kakashi’s, as if to tell him ‘I’ll be okay - think of something to get that scroll.’

Still, his eye was a dark pool of concern and panic. She had never quite seen him this way, lines forming at the waterline of his bottom lids.

Closing the door behind him and leaving Kakashi alone in the room with the two guards caused her heart rate to jump. Anxiety enveloped her, rushing through her bloodstream like a dam being broken open.

She instantly regretted her decision as Goro went over to a bar situated on the opposite side of the room, pouring himself a glass for both himself and her. How could she distract him long enough for Kakashi to think of a plan? He was smart, but how could he bypass all of the security?

“Won’t you sit?” He offered, pointing to a leather chair opposite of him. He handed her the drink, and she took it. Looking down into it, she wondered what was in it.

“Don’t be so nervous, Yuki, dear,” Goro smiled, sitting beside her, “I am not going to hurt you. As an unmarried woman, you have nothing to worry about, right? A beautiful woman like yourself should be worshiped. I've never quite seen someone so beautiful as you. Do tell me where you're from. You should take my gestures as a compliment." The back of his finger caressed her arm and she recoiled.

“Drink, drink,” he smiled, lifting his glass, “it’ll calm your nerves.”

“I am good, thank you,” she replied, placing the drink down.

“I insist,” he picked it back up and handed it to her. Smiling uncomfortably, she lifted it to her lips and filtered the drink against her teeth, ensuring none was drank.

There was another knock at the door opposite of them, the one that wasn’t connected to Goro’s office.

“Come in!” Goro grinned, putting his glass down on the coffee table before them. He clasped his hands together in excitement, looking over to her with raised eyebrows. Her stomach churned nervously, feeling a cold sweat suddenly spread across her skin.

‘How can I get out of this?’ She thought, her eyes darting around desperately.

The sound of another man entered behind her, “Osamu, I’m glad you got my message.”

Before she could turn around, she felt a hand clamp on her mouth, muffling a squeal that came from her lips. Without hesitation, her wrist was grabbed as well, yanking it behind her head. Her hair pin slipped out of her hair, making a subtle ping on the marble floor behind the chair.

Frantic, she grasped at the palm against her mouth with her free hand, clawing at the man’s hairy fingers that pressed so tightly to her lips. She could use her jutsu now, but that would clearly cause a scene. They would be outed as ninjas and surely be confined as prisoners of war. Panicking, her eyes widened as Goro stood, gently placing his hand on her knee and sliding her dress up. Her reflexes immediately jerked him away, kicking him in the stomach with her heel.

“Feisty,” Goro grinned wildly, “Just how I like them.”

A muffled cry came from her mouth behind the man’s hands. She continued to push him away with her feet, but her efforts were fruitless. Her chest cramped as tears welled in her eyes, looking up at the ceiling as she writhed her body in the chair. His thick hands slid up her thighs, smooth, disgusting fingers reaching the hem of her panties.

“Should I sedate her, Goro, sir?” Osamu asked. How could she have subjected herself to this? Why did she say yes? What did she think was going to happen? Panic rushed through every nerve ending in her body.

She jerked, kicking her foot against the coffee table. The sounds of shattering glass skidding across the floor filling the room. The noise was louder than she had anticipated, but it merely blended in with the high velocity of blood pumping in her ears.

Please let him have heard that, she begged to herself.

"Those were good drinking glasses," Goro scowled at her, looking back at the shattered glass on the floor. "Nasty woman."

She felt as though she were going to faint from adrenaline, fear and now anger. She tried to wrangle her hand free, using ever bit of her strength as she used the other to push Goro away. They slipped out of Osamu's grip before he quickly grasped it again.

"Osamu, please take both of her hands. You should know better."

The mysterious man behind her pulled away his palm from her mouth to grab her free wrist, collecting it in his other strong hand. She yelled out at the chance before his hand slapped back on over her mouth.

A tear crept from the corner of her eye as she continued to writhe beneath him, feeling this old man pulling her underwear down, sloppy bearded kisses sliding up her thigh as he knelt before her.

All at once, the door behind her slammed open, its oak finish bouncing against the wall from impact. Her eyes widened as Goro looked up, his expression changing from lewd to stunned.

“Get out!” He ordered loudly, pointing at whoever had opened the door. [Y/n] knew as soon as the grip of the man’s hand slid from her mouth and the sound of fists against flesh filled her ears. Thinking quickly, she kneed Goro between his legs, standing up to see Kakashi behind her with the burly man who held her captive in a headlock, choking him. Goro cried out in pain, gritting his teeth as he stumbled backwards.

“Get back here, you disgusting whore!”

Lunging forward, Goro grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back as she pulled her panties back up her legs.

“Get off of me!” She yelled, elbowing him in the face, hitting the base of his nose and hearing it crack. Without hesitation, her hand landed smoothly at the base of his neck and he leaned forward in pain. She finished him off with a knee jerk to the forehead, knocking him out.

With her chest heaving, she looked down at her assailant, his body face down on the marble floor. Everything had happened so quickly, she was unsure of how to process it. She looked around the room, her vision tunneling with adrenaline.

“Are you ok?” Kakashi asked her, his eyes watching her the whole time as she looked around. She swallowed, looking over at him. Her expression must have disturbed him, as she felt his hand on her wrist, guiding her out of the room. The two guards in Goro’s office lay face down as well. His hand slipped between hers, squeezing it.

“Are they dead?”

“No, just knocked unconscious,” he replied. His hand felt warm in hers, but her heart still pounded uncomfortably in her chest.

“I have the scroll. Let’s get out of here, quickly,” he told her, pulling her out of the office and closing the door to ensure no patrons saw the mess behind it.

***

The two reached the edge of the village quickly, their feet taking them beyond the onsen they had stayed at the previous night. They didn’t even retrieve their belongings.

Finally, 10 minutes later, they reached a clearing in the woods, and [y/n] stopped. Kakashi looked back at her, his expression concerned.

“You didn’t have to save me,” she told him defiantly, though her voice cracked. Her thoughts felt irrational, yet she was still reeling from the adrenaline.

"I was fine, I swear, I was fine," Her words said one thing, but her voice cracked as she lifted her head to the sky, the back of her hand on her forehead. She closed her eyes. Panic seemed to consume her body again, dizzy as she felt the rough feeling of Goro's beard against her thigh.

She had almost been raped. Raped for a stupid scroll. How could she have been so stupid? To think she could just talk to this man while Kakashi distracted the guards.

“I know,” Kakashi said to her calmly, turning back to walk towards her, “but there was-“

“But you didn’t have to, I could’ve saved myself,” she said, her voice shrill with anxiety, “I could’ve done it - I don’t -“

She couldn’t find the words. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that man’s haughty expression staring back at her, like a piece of meat in front of its prey. Her knees gave way beneath her and she fell to the ground, a sob erupting from her chest.

“Hey,” Kakashi called quietly, kneeling down beside her. Quickly, he gathered her up and pulled her close to his chest, feeling her body wracked with sobs as she clutched his kimono. His hand slid up into her hairline, pressing her head to his collarbone firmly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered to her, sitting on the dirt path himself, “you’re safe. I’ve got you.”

“Why did I do that?”

“You didn’t do anything,” he assured her, “You’re not an object to be bartered for and taken. It's not your fault.”

“Oh god,” was all she could manage, muffled against the fabric of his clothing. His arms held her tight, wrapping around her shoulders as his body rocked back and forth slightly to comfort her.

She wasn’t sure how long she had stayed there against him, unsure of how long the panic had taken to melt away from her, coming and going like the ebb and flow of the ocean. When it would return, he could feel her body go rigid and he gripped her shoulders tighter.

“It’s okay,” he would whisper against her ear.

Finally, she pulled away, eyes red and puffy as she looked back at him.

“Thank you,” she managed.

He gave her a soft half smile, reaching his hand up to her temple and pressing his palm to it to sweep away her matted hair. Something stirred within her, a longing for his touch that she had always wished for. It comforted her. Whether or not she was vulnerable in this moment was besides the point. She wanted nothing more than to be with him. To feel safe with him.

The energy around them shifted, his eye staring at her and searching her face as his hand fell to her jaw. A thumb grazed it warily. His gentle gaze was a stark contrast from Goro’s - tender and caring.

She was sure he was only comforting her, assuring her that she was safe. But the way his hand felt against her cheek, delicately caressing the base of her jaw with his thumb, twisted her stomach in a much different way.

“[y/n],” He said softly, “I know this isn’t the best time, but I have to tell you something.”

Her eyes searched his face, her mind reeling from the sudden change of events. How quickly everything had unfolded today, coupled with the trauma experienced left her feeling dazed. She felt his fingers weave themselves into the hair at the nape of her neck.

“I’m sorry for what I said on that mission,” he managed, his expression genuine. He studied her face, piecing together the words in his head. It was clear he was struggling. Her heart raced, this time pleasantly.

“I feel - I have always felt-“

Without hesitation, [y/n] leaned forward, pressing her lips to his clothed ones before he even finished his sentence. Pulling away, she looked up into his wide eye, blush creeping up her neck as she thought she may have crossed another line. But before she could even apologize, she felt his mouth press against hers, tender yet feverish. Two lips moved carefully over hers, the fabric between them a soft barrier that filtered the heat of their breaths. Reaching up, he pulled the cloth over his chin, pressing them back to hers in fervid kiss that left her feeling delirious.

She pulled herself into him more, gripping the lapels of his kimono as he splayed his palm against her back, pulling her close. His lips moved to the corners of her mouth, and across her cheek. Leaving delicate kisses in his wake before nestling his nose in the crook of her neck.

They stayed like that, her nose breathing in the woodsy sent of his grey hair. She peppered kisses across the shell of his ear, feeling calm for the first time since they had left the village.

Pulling away, he pressed his forehead to hers, his fingers pressing the hair at the nape of her neck down.

“I love you,” she heard him say, barely above a whisper. She wasn’t sure she heard him right, but as her eyes connected with his, she knew his words were true. She lifted her hand to his face, seeing it for the first time as her fingers slid down his cheek to his jaw. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Please forgive me.”

*******

4 months later

No one ever forgets the trauma experienced by an attempted sexual assault. The wounds are ever fresh, barely scabbing over in your mind. Yet every day, little by little, there is someone there to mend them. To apply balm to them and ensure they heal. Whether that healing take months, or years, it doesn’t matter. Sometimes she would wake up in a sweat, reliving that moment over and over again in her head until she wanted to vomit. The panic consuming her just as it had in that moment, ever so prominent and barely diminishing in strength.

No matter how much she had tried to deny it, she felt responsible for saying yes in that moment. For getting herself into a stupid situation that she could have avoided had she just been smart enough to think of another plan. Yet, each day, each moment she had spoken those thoughts, Kakashi was there to reassure her that no man should think he could take advantage of a woman as Goro had done.

Kakashi had been a key component of her healing journey, appearing by her side and loving her in a way she never thought he would. All those months ago when she had offered her feelings to him, she never suspected that he had just been shielding her from himself. The copy ninja had is own trauma to process, yet they managed to heal together. Side by side. Along for the journey.

***

A/N: So, I'll be real here, know I said I would write this LITERALLY 4 months ago, but I didn't like how I wrote it the first three times and the I got frustrated and gave up, tbh. Which is why I haven't been back in so long because I was stuck on this fic and didn't want to give you guy something else when I promised this first. I'm like 75% content with it now, so I hope you enjoyed it.

Anyway, I hope this wasn't offensive to anyone or ignorantly written. If I, in anyway, did not describe the aftermath feelings as you feel they should be, please let me know. I hope I was able to articulate it well, despite the grim subject.

#kakashi hatake #kakashi #naruto shippuden #hatake kakashi #kakashi imagine #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi imagines #Kakashi x you #Kakashi Hatake #naruto imagines #naruto prompts

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kriimhild · 2 years

Text

Daily Daycare - A story from the Pizzaplex (a small slice from a very late chapter)

I am still learning how to write in English, please forgive my bad spelling.

Warnings: Disturbing description! Bad words!

The Pizzaplex was built on the ruins of the original restaurant, although very few people know this... the cult started to rebuild it from the ashes after a series of failures by previous companies. However, when the VR game was being designed, the developer had no idea that it had been 'taken over' by the then cult leadership of Fazbear. To this day, Vanessa resented the scam and suspected something was amiss... she wouldn't have been the first person the Glitch found. Hiding behind Vanny's mask, Afton was experimenting with a new vision, and it was an organization. He couldn't commit the murders alone, half in digital hell. But the scent of freedom was closer than he thought. This basement, this place, the musty, familiar smells of old ruins... he was home. And home it would return.

Dave wasn't a full member yet, but Nigel knew a thing or two about blackmail. He couldn't quit, he couldn't die. Those who tumble into the afterlife in the shadow of William Afton are rumored to be tormented in the afterlife by murdered souls. There were supernatural forces at work in this place with whom it was not worth holding a grudge.

Disturbing parts

Almost nobody. There were beings out there who could hear them and see them. But they were also considered prisoners in another sense.

The man followed Nigel, a little hunched over. Dave's job was to retrieve the Remnants, the chemical part of it. Dave was a piece of shit, but without him there would have been no way to preserve the children's bodies in containers, reusing their essences over and over again. Many people made sure the souls couldn't leave the tanks. Since their murder they have been floundering in their tanks like a bird in a tiny cage.

Dave made eye contact with one of the bodies, the lifeless little face looked blankly over him. Sometimes they found their way back to their bodies, moved them to break free, but this body no longer belonged to them. They were uncomfortable... Confinement does not bring peace to a restless soul.

There was a row of tanks on the ground below, and many more high above. They could rotate the fresher bodies and souls, while the older ones gathered enough anger or grief to generate new energy.

Dave disagreed. It was all fucked up shit. Sometimes he spoke to the souls, but they didn't respond. No one could hear them...

"All right, Daveyboy, let's rotate them, let the current ones rest, and say... bring those forward." He gestures.

Dave walked over to the joystick and moved it in the desired direction.

"Nigel... l-listen... why are you doing this? What's your... motivation?"

"What? What's my motivation?” he glared at the other. “We're working towards a better world. You may not see it now, but seriously, farmers fertilize the land and they don't let the smell of shit hold them back because they know it's going to make a good crop, you know?"

Dave stared at him for a while, then pointed up.

"But child murder?! Nigel they are bloody kids man! The ones WE made disappear! They're in every bloody newspaper and we're suspected!"

Nigel just shrugged.

"At least none of them have their own cars, eh? And their suspicions are not enough, have you ever seen a single policeman here? Even in the Plex they only come when we call them. Because they know what's good for them, and so do you. They, me and you are paid handsomely, but unlike them, our place is guaranteed in the brave new world that is coming.”

"The brave new world we enter as child killers?" Dave got to his feet and as he started pacing, he held his head. "Why the fuck do you want Frankie involved? She's not good for these purposes, you said so yourself! Well impress that on the rabbit! At least not her!”

"Dave, Dave, Dave... it's like you don't understand our purpose. We want there to be life on the planet for millennia to come, but with overpopulation like this it will never happen. Sure, I understand that parents can't make the hard but right decision... but we can help. Even if they don't know it. The only difference between children and adults is that they haven't created so much waste." At the mention of Frankie, Nigel grins broadly.

"And Frankie is just the perfect person for the job. Other than us, of course, I certainly don't think she has the stomach for this kind of groundwork... but she’s very, very good with animatronics. She sees them as much more than just machines... and we both know he's right, don't we?"

“W-what do you mean? What are they if not just machines?” Dave trembles.

Nigel spread his arms.

"We don't know exactly! Hahaha! Something completely new and wonderful! A new life form that understands us, is partly of us, but more than us! And unlike us, it doesn't want to eat up the whole planet!”

The cult, like most cults on the planet, can seduce a wide variety of people, some for this, some for that. In Nigel's case, the lust for power and a high level of misanthropy was their hook. Through Vanny, Afton had the perfect answer to every question. They may not have been telling the truth, but Nigel believed them completely...

“And if there are only animatronics on this planet, how many new nuclear power plants do you think will have to be built? Nigel, that's not the solution to our survival... animatronics are just... they're causing problems in the ecosystem in other ways.” Dave rebuts. “What if one of them finds out? What if they ask you questions?”

“Daaave.” Nigel laughed. “You're missing the bigger picture. Say, for example, how long can Sun and Moon last without oxygen?”

“And how long can you last without oxygen if they find out?”

“You have questions and doubts, which I understand, of course, but you get bogged down in the trivial little things. The ones we have here are not yet complete. I can still stop any of them if I want to. The ones I can't, well... then they can do much more than me, right?”

Dave squeezed Nigel’s arm where Moon had earlier hurt it.

“And what do you think this is a sign of?”

Nigel grunted at this, but endured the pain. He began to feel that it was time to ask Vanny if Dave could have an accident at work. He talks more than he works, and increasingly doubts that he can really be compensated. But of course, until he gets permission, he's not giving up, just in case...

“I had to test how far they could go. This - he pats on his wound - is a GOOD sign of Moon, even if you don't understand it. It shows they are getting closer to being ready.”

Dave's face then smoothes out completely, but pales in shades.

"You're... specifically programming them to kill people. To help Him clean up the planet?”

Nigel waved his hand.

“Please. Killing people isn't the main purpose, it's just a tool. The main purpose is their freedom, and yes, cleaning up the planet. You're worried about the ecosystem, but you know that Monty, for example, can take better care of the plants than the whole crew here.”

"Then why do you want to punish them for it?” he pointed to Nigel’s arm.

"I don't understand why there's all this dancing around."

"Ah, so that's what you're stuck on? Understandable, when I think about it. Right... If they were just machines, I'd tamper with their programming to prevent a repeat of the incident. But they're already much more than that, as Moon's aggressive outburst proved. By educating them, I'm educating them to the real consequences. On the one hand... and don't tell anyone this... on the one hand, it will give me as much satisfaction as putting a man in his place. On the other hand, objectively? If they learn to fear the consequences, they'll be smarter and more clever next time."

Not that it matters if Dave want to tell anyone. The only one who would believe him is Vanny, who is aware of it... anyone else would just send the guy to the rubber room.

And Dave knew that no one would believe him... That's why he can't run away...

“Let's just... keep working.”

#FNAF #fnaf fanfiction #FNAFDailyDaycare #fnafsundrop #fnafmoondrop

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teawithkpop · 3 years

Text

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 7

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 5.4k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, a lot of emotional turmoil, talk of pregnancy scares (birth control, contraceptives, etc.), implied discrimination towards sex workers (not by any of the boys dw), mentions of sexual acts

slowly hands you a cake that says "I haven't updated this fic in 14 months and I don't know when the next part is coming but here's an update thanks for being patient" in comic sans

-------

The rush to the hospital goes by in a blur of tears and shouting and panic and questions that you can't bring yourself to answer. The only constant is Min Yoongi's hand, firmly locked in your own throughout the ordeal, tethering you to reality.

You now sit in a private room on a sterile medical table and wait to be seen, too numb inside to feel the sting of the cold metal as it cuts into the backs of your thighs. Yoongi stands beside you, still holding your hand, his fingers are laced through yours and squeezing as if it could sap away the fear that eats away your insides, leaving you hollow and empty.

"It'll be alright. Don't worry about a damn thing, okay?" He shifts his weight anxiously, betraying his own underlying worries.

You barely remember him throwing his jacket over you before being rushed out of the house, and you don't feel deserving of the modest coverage. Though the leather is worn and soft against your skin, all you can feel is the harsh metallic zipper, scratching at your chest as though reminding you of your wrongdoings.

"Yoongi…" you start to say, but he cuts you off, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Don't you fucking dare. Don't apologize."

You feel tears well up in your eyes. Your chest grows tight with the words he's forbidden you to say.

"I've already called Namjoon, it'll all be fine. Don't worry." He works his jaw and rubs your hand with surprising tenderness, glancing to the little window in the door every other second.

He's been assuring you with those same words for the past half hour, but it feels like it's been an eternity. As you glance at the clock on the wall, watching the hands tick by, you imagine a scene like that of a health documentary. Tiny sperm, swimming up your insides… fertilizing your previously dormant eggs.

Fuck. You've fucked up.

You might be pregnant with Min Yoongi's child. Your Opticon birth control implant could send you into toxic shock at any moment.

You don't see how things can get much worse than this.

The door finally opens, and what appears to be a nurse steps inside. She holds a clipboard, and examines it while she lets the door close behind her. "Let's see now, Miss..." Her shoulders slump marginally as her eyes reach your name. "Oh, right. The PhysCom."

You don't have the energy to ignore the change in her tone from friendly to disinterested, and simply nod. However, you feel Yoongi stiffen beside you.

The nurse lets out a brief sigh and dons a professional expression. "So, what appears to be the problem?" She directs the question to Yoongi.

"We think her birth control implant isn't working." Yoongi explains, his eyes darting furtively between you and the nurse. "She, um… she reached orgasm."

You flush at the memory, ashamed of your failure to adhere to even the most basic of rules set before you.

The nurse makes a noncommittal noise and jots something down. "Says here it’s an Opticon. And you didn't turn it off, sir?"

He shakes his head.

The nurse touches the end of her pen to her mouth, a note of sympathy forming in her eyes. Not for you, but for Yoongi. "How long have you had her?"

"Excuse me?" Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

The nurse tucks the clipboard under her arm, giving him a weary, patient smile. “With PhysComs, we have a list of probable scenarios we’re supposed to check for, to better inform the doctor of the situation, and speed along the treatment process.”

She barely spares you a glance before returning her attention to Yoongi, her voice lowered just a fraction. “It’s not uncommon for newly hired female PhysComs to try and… well, intentionally get pregnant from their clients. Especially if those clients have any amount of wealth or status.”

Yoongi seems lost for words.

She nods as if to agree with his surprise. “It’s some psychosis associated with the job,” she says with a shrug, then straightens her posture once more. “So has she been acting strangely at all? What are her symptoms?”

Your ears burn a bit at being talked about like you’re not in the room, but this isn’t the first time you’ve been in such a position. Oftentimes checkups during training were the same way, the physicians would speak exclusively among themselves and Madame while they examined every inch of you, inside and out.

Yoongi, however, is not used to such an experience.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” He says, in a voice much calmer than you would have expected. But one glance at his face tells you all you need to know. His eyes are burning like hot coals. Molten and dangerous.

The nurse doesn’t pick up on his irritation, and busily flips through the pages on her clipboard. “I need reliable information, sir. If you please,” she prompts him.

You can feel Yoongi’s hand clench around yours, and you turn to quiet him.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, hoping to reassure him enough so he’ll talk to her, but he stands his ground, his eyes glued on the nurse.

“Get out,” Yoongi says.

The nurse does a double take. “Excuse me, sir?”

“I said get the fuck out of here.” He points to the door. “Send us someone who will actually help.”

She fumes silently for a moment, but decides not to argue with him, and heads for the door in a huff.

Yoongi scoffs as you two are left alone once more. “What the fuck kind of bedside manner was that supposed to be?” He mutters, staring at the door.

“It’s okay.” You place a hand on his arm.

“No, it’s not.” He’s adamant, and you sigh wearily. How do you explain that this is only what can be expected?

You pick out a few haphazard words from the maelstrom in your brain, too tired to find the best phrasing. “Medical personnel… they don’t really get it.”

“Get what?” He asks, turning to you in outrage. “Being a fucking decent human being?”

You flinch, withdrawing your hand. You’re too tired to try and get your point across. But he notices you wilt and immediately comes closer, lowering his voice and placing both his hands on your arms. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, the edge of anger fading away to gentleness. Kindness. “What do you mean?”

You sigh, looking off to the side. You don’t deserve to have him look at you like that.

You carefully remove his hands, trying to maintain some semblance of a professional distance, even in the face of disaster. “Most hospitals don’t look favorably at PhysComs. We were given a few lectures about it in training. We use up their resources and time that could instead be given to patients who didn’t willingly put themselves at risk.”

You remember how your fellow trainees had reacted after those discussions. Many of them found the treatment to be unfair, but you yourself felt that, in a way, the medical field’s viewpoint was reasonable. Your choices are what landed you here.

“What the- what are you talking about?” He huffs, still seemingly in the dark. “You didn’t ask for this… this scare. It wasn’t your fault.” He tries to meet your eyes, but your gaze is fixed firmly to the linoleum floor.

A mirthless smile paints your lips. “But I chose this life. And these risks along with it.”

Before he can question you further, the door bursts open and Kim Namjoon enters the room, both his dress shirt and his hair are rumpled, and his eyes are frantic. “Sweetheart?” He rushes to your side and crushes you in a hug. “Are you alright?”

You hear Yoongi let out a breath of relief. “She’s okay, for the moment.”

Something about the way Namjoon holds you feels like a lamp being held against your cold skin. You’re too damp inside to light a flame yourself, but his own body warms you from the outside in the meantime. You want to let yourself enjoy it, but the memory of your unresolved questions leaves you limp in his arms, filled with nothing but misery and confusion.

He pulls back after a moment, checking you over for signs of injury. His eyes are wide with concern. “What happened? Tell me everything.”

A flare of shame rises up in you at the notion of telling Namjoon about your rule-breaking and everything that occured since this morning.

Thankfully, Yoongi seems to sense your hesitance, and he fills in most of the pieces for Namjoon. Namjoon’s expression remains stoic as Yoongi recounts what happened - you being brought home unconcious, seducing Yoongi - up until the mention of your orgasm. Namjoon’s jaw slackens slightly at this, and his eyes scan your face, searching for something.

It’s at this moment that the doctor walks in, a different nurse at his side. He’s a slightly older man, a few wrinkles creasing his brow, and a smile that appears kind until it lands on you. His face is then tinged with that same indifference that most medical professionals give you.

You wish it was your usual physician, but since this was an emergency, you didn’t have time to take the trip to your usual practice. Whatever hospital is nearest, that’s what Yoongi had told the driver.

The man turns to Namjoon, who arguably commands more presence than Yoongi, and the kindness returns. “Sorry for the delay. Busy night. From what I understand, your PhysCom has malfunctioned, is that correct?”

“Her Opticon malfunctioned, yes.” Namjoon corrects him. His diplomatic tendencies are a blessing right now. You just want to know if you’re pregnant or not. You want to know if you’re losing your job. You want to go home.

The doctor runs a few physical tests on you, feeling your breasts, peering down your throat, and examining your vaginal canal, checking for any other symptoms of malfunction from your Opticon. “All’s well so far.” He says, pulling his forefingers out of you, snapping off his gloves, and disposing of them. “May I take a look at the ComGear?”

You feel a flash of panic, waking you out of your stupor. Fuck, was it still in the group chat? You pull out the slim device, heart hammering as you check. Nope. Just settings. Thank god.

You hand it over, and then remember with a looming feeling of dread exactly why it might have been left on the settings page...

“You do so much for us, jagiya.” Taehyung keeps his hands braced on your arms, his thumb rubbing gently against your skin. “You’re always there for us. Always giving… Now it’s time for you to receive.”

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-” Jimin’s eyes fall to your compromising position, Yoongi’s dick still out, your leaking core exposed, and claps a hand over his mouth. He looks like he might cry. “Oh no...”

The pieces fall into place, and there’s no doubt in your mind. They must have switched it off.

But why? Why, why, why…?

The doctor - you’re too frazzled to read his nametag - pulls out a pair of reading glasses and takes a look at your ComGear, poking around the device with his pointer finger. “Hm. Strange.” He squints. “The Opticon does appear to be switched off.”

Namjoon blinks. “That’s impossible.”

“I’m afraid that’s the case.” The doctor shows him the setting, the toggle very much in the off position. Namjoon takes the device and looks at it in shock.

The doctor coughs. “I know that, um… for some individuals, the temptation and the… risk associated with no protection during intercourse can be sexually arousing. It’s not the first time we’ve gotten a case like this.”

He removes his glasses, folding them back into his pocket. “However, I would remind you and anyone else who uses this one’s services that although Physical Companions may be virtually expendable, it can become quite expensive for your own sake to impregnate them on a whim, using and discarding them, what with the standard fees for breaching their contract and-”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Namjoon interrupts him, and you notice the iron grip he now has on Yoongi’s arm. Likely the only thing restraining him from throwing a punch. “We’ll be more careful.” Namjoon glances at you, confusion making a little crease between his brows. “Is there some sort of morning after pill she can take, or…?”

“I’m afraid the lingering effects of the Opticon implant render any outside hormone blockers ineffective.” The doctor says, his smile turning thin. “It’s a bit of a blessing and a curse. The hormone production and ovulation suppressant in the Opticon normally make the chance of fertilization zero percent while in use. After it’s switched off, chances are still fairly low at 30 percent, for up to 24 hours. But the chances of fertilization after taking a morning after pill are significantly lower than that, at only five percent.”

He shrugs. “We’ll just have to wait and see. Chances are, your PhysCom will be right as rain and ready to pleasure clients again in about a week.”

A week.

First a week of suspension on Namjoon’s terms… Now it’s on medical advisement.

“A week? What should we do until then?” Namjoon voices your very thoughts, Yoongi seething silently beside him.

“Well, we won’t have any results until three to five days from now.” The man clarifies. “But I highly recommend you leave the implant switched off and keep her on traditional contraceptives until we know for sure. I strongly recommend utilizing other PhysComs in the meantime, just to be safe.”

You’re finished.

The doctor hands Namjoon a paper bag, most likely containing birth control pills and condoms. “She may be somewhat volatile for the next few days. You can bring her in for another checkup in a week.”

You’re weak.

“Thank you.”

You’re numb.

-------

It was a silent car ride back to the house, and as Namjoon helps you step out of the vehicle, one hand holding yours for stability while the other rests on your lower back, you can’t help feeling utterly useless. Detached from your surroundings.

What’s the point of any of this now? There’s no way they’ll want to use you until this is resolved. You’re of no use to them as a sex toy until at least a week from now, and by then it’ll be far too late to earn their favor back.

“We need to have a meeting. Call the others into the living room.” Namjoon speaks to Yoongi in an undertone, and you feel a small ache of hope. Maybe things will work out if everyone just talks to each other.

But when you enter the house and Namjoon begins to steer you upstairs, you finally find your voice.

“No.” You resist against him, turning around at the base of the stairs. “No, I want to be part of the meeting.”

The surprise quickly fades from his face, instead turning to concern. “You need to rest."

Something about the look on his face, about being told yet again through his actions that this doesn’t concern you, it causes something inside you to snap, your apathy vanishing in the wake of this new beast beginning to rear its ugly head within you.

Your throat closes up and a scream erupts from your aching chest. "You don't know what I need!"

Namjoon matches your desperation with an infuriatingly patient look of sympathy. He approaches you, his hand outstretched, but you stagger back away from him. He smiles sadly and drops his hand. "Stay here. It's what's best for you."

What's best for you.

The words throb in your mind, like the memory of an old wound. They bounce listlessly off the walls of your grandiose prison long after Namjoon shuts the door, sealing you away again.

You don't know what comes over you as you see visions of launching yourself at the door, pounding and scratching at the wood like a wild animal.

You could just open the door and follow him downstairs. Some part of you does register that.

But you want them to hear you. You want them to hear you rip your throat raw as you exorcise your demons.

You blink and you're standing still.

You haven't moved.

Your spacious room feels stifling. Like the walls are closing in on you, suffocating you.

Silken ropes sway in the dusk, catching your eye from beyond the balcony window. Your escape route from earlier that day.

You don't think twice before stuffing a few meager belongings into the long forgotten backpack kicked beneath your bed.

You need to leave this place.

You can't stay here.

-------

It had started drizzling not long after you left the house, and even now as you sit on the damp curbside, waiting for the next bus to take you far away from this place, it strikes you as funny, in a way, that the weather is crying for you, since you can't muster any tears of your own.

It's cold and misty, a foreboding atmosphere, by all accounts. It makes you question if what you're about to do is the right call.

But you shut down the arguments in your head as quickly as they appear.

Second guessing was what had gotten you into this situation. You need to follow your instincts.

And your instincts are telling you to flee.

It won't be so bad, you try to convince yourself. After the first night on the road, you'll eventually find a new town, a new home, a new place for yourself in this fucked up world. You've done it before, you can do it again.

You're considering suitable aliases for your new persona, when you sense another person approaching, their shoes tramping through the wet grass.

You don't look up at them, hoping they'll pass by and leave you alone. But they come to a stop beside you.

You keep your gaze on the road, droplets rippling the puddled potholes.

Then the stranger goes to sit on the curb too, and you can't help but look at them.

You'd recognize those lips anywhere, even beneath a baggy hooded sweatshirt.

"It's a bit late to run errands, don't you think?" Seokjin says, pulling his sleeves down to keep out the chill as he perches beside you.

He glances at you, then looks ahead at the road, the same way you were. You return your gaze forward, too exhausted to make a run for it. Though you don't get the sense that he would chase after you, even if you tried to escape.

Maybe that's exactly why you decide to stay put, but you don't give the suspicion any more thought.

"What do you want?" You finally ask, your voice croaky from being silent for so long.

"Nothing."

"Liar," you mutter, hugging your knees to your chest. "Everyone wants something."

He chuckles. Rests back on his hands. "I guess you're right about that."

Damn right you are. You didn't study the human condition through your years of training to be fooled so easily by pretty words.

"So?" You prompt him, still staring at the dreary horizon.

He takes a moment to respond. The silence is punctuated by the distant noises of traffic, an occasional car passing by, its headlights shimmering in the mist before disappearing down the road.

“The others are all out looking for you, you know,” he says simply. “Why do you think that is?”

If it were anyone else that had run away - their manager, a friend - you know what the answer would be. Because they care about that person. But how can you believe that about yourself, when you know you can never amount to anyone with that level of importance to them?

Ironic, since you’re the person with which they can be most intimate and vulnerable.

“I’m a liability,” you reply halfheartedly.

His silence serves to confirm your suspicions. A runaway PhysCom? Far too risky for a group at their level. You could become one of those anonymous sources like you saw in the news. A firsthand account of the BTS members’ secret sexual urges. Unacceptable. Snatches of words from the NDA you signed buzz around the edges of your mind like stray flies.

But since you're no longer connected to your network, then your tracker is probably disconnected. If the bus had come just a little earlier, you might already have escaped without a trace.

“You really think that’s the only reason?” Seokjin’s voice pulls you back to the moment.

His abysmal attempt to divert from the problem gets a hollow laugh out of you.

“Any other reason has ulterior motives. It’s just business.” You check the time on your ComGear. The bus should be here any minute. “I’m leaving, and I won’t let you stop me.”

“I don’t intend to,” he agrees, to your surprise. “God knows you’ve been put through enough.” He then leans forward, resting his forearms across his legs. “But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Your ears perk up at this.

Seokjin seems to take your silence as permission to continue. “The reason we decided to suspend you. It wasn’t… entirely selfless.”

You purse your lips in irritation and fix your gaze upon the horizon, settling your chin beneath your crossed arms. “Right. Ulterior motives, like I said.”

He clicks his tongue. “Touche.”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't.

Your curiosity gets the better of you.

“So, what… were you planning to replace me?” You ask, trying to sound contemptuous. “I heard you all having your little group meeting in the kitchen. There are plenty of shiny new whores at your disposal, take your pick.”

He still makes no noise.

You wait, preparing to accept a bitter confirmation of all your fears.

But then he finds his voice. “We could never replace you, dear.”

You stop. Look over at him. His eyes are half lidded, his smile bittersweet as he stares off into the distance. After a few moments, he fishes around in his pocket and pulls something out, then hands it to you.

His smartphone.

“Here,” he murmurs, sympathy in the quirk of his lips. “In case you need to call anyone. Those devices they give you don’t have a cell plan, I assume.”

He seems to sense your wariness, and waves the phone a bit in a gesture of insistence. “I can buy a dozen new ones. It’s no trouble.”

You very hesitantly take it. “Thanks.”

Of course, he has no way to know that your ComGear is now jailbroken, for all intents and purposes. But… is this a trap? What if there’s a tracker in the phone? But why would he need to put a tracker in it if he doesn’t know your ComGear is off the grid?

The rumble of an approaching motor pulls you out of your cyclical thoughts, and you get on your feet, slowly coming out of your dissociative sulk.

But you still feel numb. Nothing matters anymore.

Nothing at all.

Jin gets up along with you, slipping his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Stay safe, alright?”

You give a brief nod of acknowledgment, only half in his direction as you shrug your bag onto your shoulder more securely. The hydraulics of the bus screech as the vehicle comes to a stop and lowers slightly, allowing you to step onboard.

You glance back, fully expecting Jin to stop you. But he doesn’t. He blinks raindrops out of his eyes while you board, and gives you a small smile once the doors close behind you. He lifts a hand in farewell, then turns and starts to walk away down the street.

He’s really letting you go.

You pay your fare and find a seat towards the back of the nearly empty bus. Rain pelts at the windows, picking up in earnest, and it feels like yet another layer, another barrier, separating yourself and creating an ever-growing chasm from the life you knew up until yesterday.

You pull out Jin’s phone, staring at the dark screen and wiping away stray raindrops from the surface with your sleeve. Why had he come to find you, if not to stop you?

“But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Maybe he felt guilty. Or remorseful for the hell you’ve been put through recently. You would normally have felt immense satisfaction at such a thought.

But you can’t feel much of anything right now.

You don’t think you’ll be able to feel properly again. At least not for a long, long time…

Hm? The screen lit up. You must have pressed a button by accident. You swipe at it again, and to your surprise it unlocks. Who doesn’t put a passcode on their phone?

Is it possible… he disabled it before he gave it to you? Maybe. Whatever. You’re so tired of thinking, playing investigator and second guessing people’s motivations.

You scroll over to the phone icon, and tap on it, briefly considering calling your parents. But the wetness on your fingers messes with the touchscreen and you open the messages app instead.

You’re about to wipe the screen and try again, but… the most recent messages are… all about you. You tap on the group chat among the seven of them, currently bustling with activity.

[ Kim Namjoon ]: has anyone found her [ Park Jimin ]: hyung I’m so sorry [ Park Jimin ]: it’s all my fault [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not at the studio [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’ll talk about it later Jimin [ Kim Namjoon ]: everyone keep looking [Jeon Jungkook]: manager said they can call her network to track her down [Kim Taehyung ]: should we do that? [ Jung Hoseok ]: no! she could get in trouble :( [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not a stray pet [ Kim Namjoon ]: exactly [ Kim Namjoon ]: we need to keep this quiet for her sake [Kim Taehyung ]: she hasn’t replied to my texts or calls [ Min Yoongi ]: me neither [Jeon Jungkook]: hyung... will she be okay? [ Kim Namjoon ]: everything will be fine don’t worry [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’re going to fix this somehow [ Min Yoongi ]: whatever it takes [ Jung Hoseok ]: where could she have gone... [ Park Jimin ]: what if she doesn’t come back?

You scroll further up, past days and weeks and months of texts between them… not even a day between mentions of you. Wondering if you’re alright. Hoping you’ve eaten enough. Wanting to do more with you.

The thread of texts Jimin sent to Seokjin just yesterday.

Hyung I wish things were different I want to hold her I want to tell her she’s enough I wish I could kiss her… I think I love her Do you ever feel that way?

And Seokjin’s reply.

I do I know just what you mean Why do you think I turned those secondaries away last night, hm? No one can compare She really is special…

He didn’t… fuck the secondaries? After you broke at dinner, he… didn’t...?

You switch to his thread with Namjoon from a few days ago.

I know you’re our leader but I don’t think this is the way to go You need to be more cautious

Namjoon’s reply.

What we need is action, hyung If we work together on this, we could get rid of these unnecessary rules We could all have what we want Including her It’s what’s best for everyone

Seokjin took several minutes to reply.

You’re going to lose her.

Jin knew. He tried to talk Namjoon out of writing that stupid essay, or maybe it was about your suspension.

Either way, he defended you.

You open his thread with Hoseok. Dimly, you recognize that you shouldn’t be snooping, but you’re too absorbed to stop.

Hyung, I think she really wants this All of us ♡ I don’t know how, but we need to show her that it’s okay That we want it just as much

How do you know that’s what she wants?

I can’t say ♡ But I know now She wouldn’t reject us Our feelings She feels something too

The date and time lines up with this morning. The morning after he made love to you.

He didn’t tell them. He kept your secret.

“Our feelings”? What does he mean? Him, Jimin, Taehyung… Seokjin? Do they all…?

Your head spins, the hollowness of your heart filling with a rush of jumbled emotions, like a tide crashing in. All your numbness is washed out with light, just a pinprick at first, that grows rapidly into a ray of warmth as you consider what all this could mean. The chasm starts to narrow, and you get the urge to jump ship, to turn back and figure this shit out. To know once and for all what they want from you. What you mean to them.

But how can you trust this isn’t a trap? How can you be sure?

The answer is as simple as they come.

You can’t.

You can’t be absolutely certain that their intentions are pure… that this is the right thing to do… that you won’t be hurt again.

But maybe... trust isn’t about being infallible. Being right. Being sure.

Maybe it’s built on what ifs. On trying again, even with no guarantees.

Guarantees are only as good as their word, and talk is cheap. Lies are easy. Your Opticon had a 100% guarantee, and look where that got you.

But you remember the way Hoseok held you that night, and made love to you like you’ve never felt in your life... When Jimin kissed his way down your body, with only the best of intentions. Namjoon’s strong arms embracing you when you felt powerless. Yoongi’s hand never leaving yours, even while you waited in the hospital. Jungkook carrying you home after you fainted, breaking your door to make sure you were safe in bed. The look in Taehyung’s eyes when he finally kissed you, breaking the ice you’d been growing around your heart.

How Seokjin let you go.

Maybe...

You get up with a start, rush to the front of the bus, and hastily ask the driver to let you off, much to the old man’s disgruntlement, but the moment the doors whoosh open, you take off at a run.

You want to go home.

You want to try again.

No matter how much you try to bury it, to forget the way they make you feel, you care about them. All of them. On a much deeper level than that of a PhysCom and client. And it scares you.

But you’re done running from fear. From uncertainty.

Now you’re running towards it willingly, as you give chase down the torrential streets, searching for that familiar hooded figure and hoping you’re not too late. You’re embracing the doubt, the fear, the uncertainty, the paranoia... letting their shadowy claws sink into you until they can’t hurt you anymore. Until they fade away, cowering under the glow of your determination.

You’re setting some new rules for yourself, no longer letting fear control your thoughts and actions, barring you from any chance of happiness.

You see Seokjin in the distance, trudging home through the pouring rain. You run faster.

You’re fucking terrified. But you’ve never felt so free in your life.

“Jin!” You shout to get his attention, still a block away. He turns around, and shakes his head, seemingly confused, but a smile starts to appear. You smile too.

Finally, you catch up to him, and without warning, you throw your arms around his shoulders. Damn, he’s always taller than you remember.

He laughs, shocked by your change of heart. “What are you doing?”

“I want to hear you say it.” You reply, looking up at him as rain dashes down your face. You don’t know when you started crying, but you’re grateful to the weather for masking your tears.

“Say what?” He asks, his hands resting on your waist to support you. Thunder rumbles in the distance, rain sliding down his perfect face.

“How you feel about me.” You reply, studying his eyes. “Be honest.”

He seems to sense the gravity in your words. He holds you closer. His eyes soften.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

For the first time since all of this started, you sense no deception in his words, no double meaning, no hidden agenda.

Because you aren’t searching for reasons to doubt this time.

You’re searching for reasons to trust, and you find them.

You want to kiss him. So you do.

#bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader smut #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts ot7 #bts ot7 smut #bts smut fic #bts fic rec #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #thank you all for waiting ;w;

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selfproducingfanfictionauthor · 3 years

Text

BTS Scenario: An omega arrives in your pack (Hyungline x alpha/beta fem!reader)

Summary: An omega joining a pack is a blessing - an unmated one is a miracle. So when the village elder came to you not with authority in her eyes but pity and pleading for understanding, you had no choice but to let him go.

Or, an omega joins the pack and you’re an alpha/beta in a relationship with another alpha. The community asks for your sacrifice. Warnings/Notes: Implied Smut, slight ass play, Angst, Drabble (no resolution... yet) I wanted to explore a different dynamic in the ABO Universe, since it’s usually Alpha BTS x Omega Reader but how about the Beta or even the Alpha reader? Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 2k+ (500 per drabble)

KIM SEOKJIN

(after he’s called to participate in the matching, and Jungkook is an unmated male omega who’s always had a crush on you) (though crush is a understatement)

He’s here for a final goodbye, you think as you allow him to push you back against the wall.

He kisses you with desperation, all teeth and tongue, as if he wants to devour you whole. He reeks of her but you push it at the back of your mind, together with your instinct to gain the upper hand.

If this is goodbye, let it be as soft as you two could be.

You close your eyes to blink back the tears and wrap your arms around his neck. You match his passion kiss after kiss until you both are panting, breathing in each other.

Seokjin slows it down and pulls at your shirt, slipping it off your head. His eyes are wan, and he hasn’t met your gaze the whole time. It feels wrong, but then again, everything is.

So you try to bring back some normalcy and let the urgency in your touch show. Your arms slid down his shoulder, pushing him back into your room, your strength easily matching his.

In the dark of the room, you tug at his shirt but Seokjin grasps your hand away from his chest. You thought he’s going to lead you to his cock just as he did many times before, but he pulls you closer until there’s no more space between your chest and his and leads your hand to his hole.

He’s dry as the dessert but her pushes your hand closer, until your fingers tap his puckered hole.

You can feel him force himself not to tense up, breathing deeply and dropping his head to your shoulder. His back is caved over you, like a tall child and he turns to graze his lips against your ear.

“I’ll let you fuck me too, if that’s what you want, jagi.”

Your eyes widen and you try to pull your hand away but he holds it still. Your other hand tries to push his chest away but his other arm wraps around your shoulder blades, unwilling to let go.

He keeps still in the crook of your neck, murmuring words you never imagined you’ll hear from the alpha, “I’ll moan like he did. Beg like he did.” His voice shakes, and you startle at the tears wetting your skin. It doesn’t even occur to you to wonder how he knew about Jungkook, and what had transpired the night before because here he is.

He’s crying. Your alpha is crying.

“Just please don’t leave me.”

MIN YOONGI

(Your love for Yoongi knows no bounds, you can give him this. In which your arranged marriage is thwarted.)

“It’s a good thing we’re not bonded yet, huh?”

You try not to wince at the relief in his voice and instead you laugh, hoping that the dark is enough to conceal the wobble on your lip.

You are both lying on your bed, exhausted by your hours long of… what do you call it again? Ah, he did call it his favorite recreational activity. He figured sexual compatibility is an important factor in arrange marriages earlier on your engagement.

And you, in love with him for more than half your life, said yes.

His fingers are playing with your hair, while his other hand lifts a lit cigarette to his lips. He glances down at you, his cat-like eyes half-lidded.

“You want a smoke?”

Pulling the blanket higher to your chest, relishing in the slight flicker of interest in his eyes, you shake your head. “Actually, can you not smoke on my bed tonight?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow but says nothing and puts out his cigarette against the ash tray on your bedside table. Usually, you take up on his offer, and he’s not gonna lie and say that the image of your lips around a cigarette doesn’t stir his cock alive.

“Not feeling well?” He asks, the only time you refused his offer was whenever you’re feeling the drop after your activities. But usually, you’ll tell him outright, communication being as open as you both could.

You let a small smile touch your lips at his tone. He cares for you, you know, maybe not as much as you want him to, but it’s enough.

Or it used to be enough.

“Just a mild migraine,” you lie before pressing a kiss against his shoulder.

Yoongi smiles and kisses the crown of your head, “You know what cures migraines?”

Your smile grows wider as you look up to his grin, his hand already sliding down the small of your back under your blankets. “I think I have an idea.”

By the time he’s pulled out 3 more orgasms from you, the moon has started fading from the night sky. The brisk winter air entering your room by the open window, drawing goosebumps on your skin.

Beside you, Yoongi sits up and pulls his shirt over his head.

“You’re not staying the night?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “The trials start the day after tomorrow, I’ve got to get a head start.”

Your press your lips together, your hand sneaking down your belly. You imagine your child, the size of a pea, hoping they do not hear your breaking heart. “I thought you didn’t like being choices taken away from you.”

That was one of the major points of discussion when your parents arranged your marriage. It’s also a source of your many arguments at the start, before slowly becoming some sort of unwanted roommate in your makeshift relationship.

Yoongi pauses, there’s something in your voice that he can’t pinpoint. He turns to you, for once, you are unreadable. “This is different.”

“Oh,” you breathe. How so, you want to ask. How come a choice robbed by our secondary natures so much different than the ones robbed by our parents? How come it’s the lesser evil in your eyes?

How come I was never a palatable choice in the first place?

But you don’t. Instead, Yoongi presses on. “At least now, you know, if it turns out that it’s me, you’re free. You can go to university just like you want.”

“Yeah…” you chuckle dryly, “Well, good luck then.”

You don’t beg him to stay, you’re an alpha too and an alpha protects their pack. As your hand travels down to your belly again, you remember - you have your own to protect now too.

JUNG HOSEOK

(You’re just his best friend. What can you say?)

“She smells like lilacs! No, wait, honey! Honey and cream.” Hoseok sighs, all lovestruck on your couch over the new omega girl in town.

As part of the search party that found her, he hasn’t stopped talking about her for weeks. Giving you updates on her recovery in the beginning, and then her smile, her eyes, and the way she laughs as time went by.

At first, you didn’t mind. An omega joining the pack is a blessing, given their rarity. They symbolize fertility and bounty, and you are nothing if not loyal to the community. You foster the village children as their teacher, you teach them the ropes of the land - how to feed the cows, how to plant the seeds, and how to prepare for harvest - after all.

But as time went by, as Hoseok’s visits to her home frequent and his visits to yours lessen, it’s become harder and harder to keep the bitter thoughts away. Hoseok may still visit you, but when was the last time you two talked about anything other than her?

“The trials for her mate starts next week,” Hoseok starts, almost as if waiting for you to say something, “I’m thinking of participating.”

From the kitchen, you tighten your hold on the tray balancing your tea and snacks. Without a wobble, you inquire as you step back into your living room, “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he picks up one of your cookies, suddenly looking all bashful, “I’m unmated and I’m not getting younger so, might as well give it a shot you know?”

You frown behind your tea cup, “We’re barely past our mid-20s, Seok-ie, that hardly qualifies as old.”

Hoseok leans back and tilts his head on the back of your couch until it hangs in relaxation. “It’s different between you and I.”

It’s true, betas are not so pressured to reproduce early. After all, there’s nothing special to be had in your genes, you think bitterly.

“Besides,” he continues, “I think I like her. You know, maybe we should invite her next time we hang out! You can get to know her too!”

“I’d rather not.” It spills over your lips before you could control it, and Hoseok stiffens before turning his gaze to you.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re jealous.” Hoseok teases, unaware at how his words hit home.

You stiffen, biting your lip before the dam breaks. “Maybe I am.” you whisper.

He blinks in surprise at the feebleness of your tone, “B-but… you’re a beta.”

You know. You know your place, in this village and in his life but somehow it’s different hearing it from him. Standing, you turn away to step back into your kitchen when a hand grasps your wrist.

“I don’t understand.” Hoseok whispers, trying to look up to your face but thwarted by your hair. He doesn’t need to see your watering eyes to know there are tears in them. He’s reeling from the sudden change of atmosphere, smelling your distress in the air.

Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by the sense of inferiority and your heart caves into itself. With the last of your strength, you shake off his hold, pointing to the door.

“I think it’s best you leave.”

KIM NAMJOON

(Namjoon has always been a man of duty, and though you are tough and strong, there are limits to what you can and will endure)

You pride yourself to be level-headed, calm, and objective unlike many of the alphas in the pack. You’ve never lost your control, or flown into fury even during your youth but at this very moment, you summon all your discipline to keep your lips from pulling back and snarling at the older alpha in front of you.

How dare she?

How dare they ask this of you?

“It is his duty.” She repeats and beside you, Namjoon is silent. Eyes straight ahead, back as rigid as the trees outside your home. The home that you two built for your children that will come after your wedding.

The wedding that’s supposed to be in a month.

But the longer Namjoon stays silent, the farther that future seems to be. By the time the elder leaves your home, you don’t even see a speck of it in your mind’s eye.

The silence continue as you clean up the cups and uneaten rice cakes. The silent clink of the utensils echoing in your quaint home.

As you wash the dishes, you feel like an outsider watching your body go through the motions. Scrubbing the plate clockwise, once, twice, three times, before running it under the faucet. Next, you pick up the cups, here, clockwise, once, twice —

“It is my duty,” you hear Namjoon, and oh, he’s beside you, hand on your wrist, pulling your hands away from the frigid waters, “you know that, right?”

As one of the strongest and wisest alphas this pack has ever seen in generations, your betrothal to Namjoon was tolerated at best. Alpha bondings are common nowadays, with the scarcity of omegas. So yes, your betrothal was tolerated - just tolerated, even with you being as strong and as wise as your betrothed - but now?

With that young omega in the picture?

They are making you feel as if you’ve committed a grave sin against the community, as if it’s not within your rights to rage against the unfairness of it all.

They’re asking you for your love.

And he’s so willing to be taken away. Your heart breaks but you nod quietly, “I know. I understand.”

Namjoon stupidly thought that was the end of it. That you knew he’ll always come back to you, omega or not.

Maybe he was naive, or he truly was selfish to ask it of you but when he gets home the week after the trials to a dark cold house the surprise knocks him to his knees and drops his heart to his stomach.

You left the kitchen untouched, his mug still next to yours but, Namjoon pauses at the threshold of your room. There, glinting under the moonlight, sits your ring and the last of your scent wafts away.

END NOTES: Hearts are appreciated but comments are gold. Let me know if this should have a second (or even third) part! :)

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