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vivalabunbun · 2 years

Text

On the complexities of relationships and words

Summary: For two people that love to read, words seem like a complex.

Word Count: 13k (yeah... this is slow burn, might want to get a drink and snack)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Slow Burn, Smut(r18+), NSFW, MDNI, Fluff, Angst kind heavy?, Modern AU, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, slow fic, marriage, arranged pairing, dubcon, themes about not liking yourself, TW: gender dysphoria (you don’t like your secondary gender), TW: Very vague and brief mentions to possible past domestic trauma, Jealous!alhaitham, slight yandere!alhaitham, mutual pining, miscommunication, breeding, biting, ruts, Alpha!alhaitham, Beta!reader. You agreed to the pairing due to tax benefits. A lot of references to literature.

Authors note: This is my first attempt at slow burn and yeah... I got carried away. I want to explore how slow alhaitham would open up and how love can come from the mind instead of the heart. Enjoy.

Side Note: here is a little dabble

Love, an emotion that sets the heart on fire. An all-consuming emotion that feels as if one was falling off a cliff while also being embraced tight by the treads of fate. The emotion that’s only separated by a thin line from madness. Or at least, that is how it’s been described to you through books and movies.

With love being the inspiration for so many poets, artists, and heroes throughout all of history, it comes as no surprise that you found yourself curious about it. It started out innocently, you would listen to the latest romantic ballads from the wandering travelers along the streets of Sumeru. In the nation of wisdom, books were plentiful yet you found your teenage self buying certain novels from Inazuma. Then came the films from Fontaine which you’d spend a week’s worth of pocket money on.

What first began from your childish curiosity became a hidden infatuation. You wanted to feel those emotions described in those songs, books, and movies. So you began your journey to seek it out. Your first relationship filled you with a certain rush, an excitement to finally experience a scene from those novels you loved… but you were only left with disappointment.

Kisses felt bland, holding hands felt awkward after too long, and eye contact uncomfortable. There were no lingering thoughts that kept you up at night, no pink haze of pinning, nor a spark that set your chest ablaze. The breakup didn’t come as a surprise, and even so, it didn’t leave you with those gut-wrenching heartbroken sobs into the pillow as you’ve seen in the movies. Just disappointment.

Perhaps it's because you were basing your expectations on relationships you can never experience. Those songs, those books, those movies? They were all about the bond felt between Alphas and Omegas.

The maddening ruts and needy heat that left your cheeks flushed when you read about them. The touching gestures of scenting, the descriptions of the additive aroma of their beloved, their fated mate. The marking that proclaimed to the world their undying love. You’ll never experience that… since you’ve presented as a Beta.

The worker ants of society, the largest class sandwiched between Alphas and Omegas, the extras in their movies. The category of society that can neither produce nor reciprocate pheromones, the population that lived in mediocrity in the eyes of romantics.

Of course, love was possible for Betas, after all in a population that makes up the majority, there will always be the few that find ‘true love’. But that’s an advanced scholarly topic up for debate, with the societal consensus being that it’s the lowest tier of love. All pairings with Betas belonged in this tier.

Alpha-Alpha, Omega-Omega, and at the very top of the tier list of ‘true love’ was the Alpha-Omega pairing. After all, love scientifically is created by chemical bonds in the brain with oxytocin, the love hormone. Pheromones kicked the production of oxytocin into overdrive, creating an addiction that makes a person long for their lovers every hour of the day. The chemicals that create the fire of romance you once wished upon shooting stars for.

Thankfully with time, as you matured into an adult you resigned yourself to your fate. You found solstice in your one advantage as a Beta over any Alpha or Omega: True independence. Free from the chains that are primal desires brought on by pheromones, your head was clear, decisions not dependent on the fever that was love.

You had given up on searching for love, hey, if you set the bar on the ground then there was less risk of being let down. So that’s why you agreed to your parents’ suggestion of an arranged pairing. To be matched to a life partner by a matchmaker.

“Eh? Isn’t that practice kinda outdated?” Dehya questioned.

“Don’t the city folk use the akasha system, using genetics for compatibility or something?” Your Alpha friend carefully tucked away her compact mirror.

“Actually, I think that’s really romantic! The traditional way matches you by personality and lifestyle compatibility.” Nilou grasped your hands, wishing you luck.

“I agree, old fashioned doesn’t mean it's ineffective. It’s still very much practiced in Aaru Village.” Candace sent a slight side-eye to your other Alpha friend across the table.

Perhaps your Alpha and Omega friends were trying to cheer you on, but frankly, they didn’t need to. The next day when you met with the older woman, you went through the process with a sense of boredom. When answering the matchmaker's question, you stated you just wanted a life partner that was honest, loyal, and respected your individuality.

Next, the matchmaker asked about your interests, you recalled all the literature you used to consume during your obsession with love, and embarrassed by your fruitless past endeavors you answered books.

“What kind of life do you seek, my dear?” Her wrinkly hands intertwined as she leaned on the table.

“A peaceful, quiet life.”

And that was it. She wrote down your responses with a bejeweled quill pen, handwriting beautiful and neat as if she were penning down a poem for you. You were free to go home. Walking down the streets of Sumeru, the dusk birds singing to their lovers, you didn’t even wonder about the Beta she was going to pair you with. You had a full day of work tomorrow, what you really wanted was a full night's rest.

So a month later, you couldn’t hide the bewilderment on your face as you stood in front of a tall Alpha, the partner the matchmaker had deemed a good fit. From his piercing teal orange eyes to his sliver hair to his towering physique, everything about him was the picture-perfect definition of an Alpha.

‘Alhaitham’ was his name, and you must admit it fit him quite well. His face remained unchanged even after his mesmerizing eyes passed over your form quickly. You couldn’t read the lack of expression on his face, was it disinterest? Indifference? Boredom?

A part of you wanted to take your parents to the side and whisper in their ears that the matchmaker was a quack. Who in their right mind matches an Alpha with a Beta? Before you could do so, the matchmaker lead your parents out of the room, giving the two of you some privacy to get acclimated. A heavy silence hung in the air as your bodies stood a respectable distance apart, deciding to break the silence you first stated the obvious.

“I’m not an Omega.”

“I’m aware.” His deep voice sent a small shiver down your spine. Even his voice was beautiful.

“I don’t have any pheromone, meaning I can’t bond.” You glanced up at him.

“I never listed it as a requirement.”

His answers only seemed to confuse you further, perhaps he didn’t think this through all the way. Sure, the matchmaker revealed that both of you wanted peaceful lives, liked books, and believed firmly in one’s individuality. But there was a massive sumpter beast in the room as the saying goes.

“Aren’t you worried about… that time of the year…”

For the first time, his eyes met yours, you quickly shifted your eyes away.

“Are you referring to ruts? Medicine has advanced quite a bit, there are now inhibitors that can regulate pheromones and ruts. Not that you would know, of course.” He huffed out.

You couldn’t stop your eyebrow from twitching in annoyance. Ah, he’s also got that Alpha ego. You were still confused, from the look on your face he quickly deduced it as well.

“I dislike disruptions to my life. Primal desires are just disruptions. To put it bluntly, you as a Beta don’t release pheromones nor go into bouts of unsuppressed lust. Significantly reducing the risk of interrupting my time. You value individuality and are very independent, you’re very unlikely to bother me with trivial matters. All these factors add up to a peaceful, quiet life. Simple isn’t it?”

When he laid out all the reasons so clearly on the table, it’s hard to not note the truth, Alhaitham is a weird Alpha. Perhaps that’s why his grandmother enlisted the help of a matchmaker in her will.

After that day, you took home a folder full of documentation on him. Under the golden light of your desk lamp, you sorted through the information in front of you. He had no criminal record, he owns his own house close to the city, and he held a stable job with a very attractive salary.

You ponder the decision for about a week, weighing the pros and cons. Marriages in Sumeru are often encouraged with sizable tax deductions, more money in your own pocket. Employees with spouses have an easier time requesting paid time off, more money in your pocket and less work. He lacked any familial attachments, meaning no in-laws to deal with. One extra point for being very easy on the eyes too.

You ultimately signed your name on the marriage documents at the city hall, right next to his emulate penmanship. Right there under the fluorescent lights of the government office, the two of you recited your vows. The only other people in the room were your parents and the clerk filing the paperwork.

Within the next few months, you’ve carried the boxes filled with your belongings from your cramped apartment into his spacious house. Your old light novels and romantic collection of poems are now placed on a bookshelf adjacent to his. Bright and artistic covers contrasting against bland academic journals. Of course, there was no honeymoon, no break from your regular work schedules. There was no reason to.

In the first year of your marriage, you viewed him with suspicious eyes. You valued loyalty in a life partner and even though he stated he dislike pheromones and primal urges, he was still an Alpha with such natural responses. Yet, you observed that he came home every day at 5:30 pm on the dot, not a single hair out of place nor a single crease on the collar of his button-downs.

You found him to be a decent housemate, calm, quiet, and respectful of your space. Chores were divided equally between the two of you, making the shared living space organized and dust free. Of course, he was only human thus he also had some flaws.

Sometimes your foot would knock against a stack of books he had left on the floor near the numerous bookshelves throughout the house. Or how you noticed your shampoo and conditioner bottles emptying at an alarming rate, does he not know how expensive haircare is?

Alhaitham deemed you a good fit for a life partner. You weren’t disruptive nor dependent on him in any aspect. You spent your own money responsibly, a diligent person who followed a set work routine without needing any reminders.

You would alternate responsibilities for dinner, but he found your food more flavorful. You threw together ingredients with no regard for measurements, only going off what felt right, compared to his style of calculating the precise amount a ‘pinch’ was.

Of course, it’s expected that you’ve got some quirks that made him tsk internally. It was small insignificant things. Like how sometimes he would find strands of your hair left in the shower drain. Or how you often tuck his books back into the nearest shelf, not caring about if the genres matched or not.

“I commend your artistry. However, a mural made from your hair on the shower wall is unnecessary.”

“You’ve got shorter hair than me, how are you using double the product?”

“It’s all due to your perception, I’m not using any more product than you.”

“Oh?~ Then I guess the hair on the wall is all just your perception too.”

When living with another person there will always be bumps that needed to be smoothed out. But overall, life was peaceful and quiet just how the two of you liked it.

Alhaitham was Alhaitham, and you were you. Two independent individuals only connected by paper and law. Perhaps the only couple-like aspect of your relationship was sharing the same bed. Of course, this was done only out of necessity.

The only other room in the house with a bed was the guest room, even so, there was still an imbalance. The mattress was much smaller and firm when compared to the grand bed in the master bedroom.

He didn’t snore and neither did you, you didn’t toss and turn in your sleep and neither did he. With two separate blankets, he deemed that sharing a bed with you wouldn’t cause any disturbance to his sleep. You two had more than enough money to afford another bed, but just the thought of rearranging the furniture to accommodate it was too bothersome for the both of you. There was more than enough room on the bed for two bodies to sleep without ever touching.

No loud passionate fights nor lingering glances and maddening touches. Just the calm lull of normalcy. But you were satisfied.

By your second year with him, you’ve gotten acquainted with the nuances in his manner of speech. In particular, his sarcastic quips that you’d return with vivacity.

“Mmm, I appreciate the attempt. But I’d rather my books be sorted by subject rather than by instinct.”

“There’s faster ways to collect my life insurance than by getting me to trip over a book, Haitham.”

During this year, the two of you also began to use more familiar terms to address each other. Instead of your name, he’d simply call you wife, and you shortened his name. Husband and ‘Haitham’ had the same amount of letters anyways.

When the date of your courthouse wedding came around, nothing happened.

No flowers, no shiny gifts of jewels, not even a sweet dessert. After all, he found it silly to spend so much effort on a singular day instead of placing that enthusiasm into every regular day of life.

Birthdays shared the same sentiment, you’d be invited out by your group of friends to a celebration planned by Nilou, while Alhaitham would stay at home with his books.

“Happy birthday.” You placed a cup of freshly brewed coffee down in front of him.

“Thank you.” Besides your statement, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Hopefully I’m one year closer to collecting your pension.”

Alhaitham has to admit he does enjoy your sardonic humor, but you’d never be able to tell just by looking at him. He took a sip of his coffee, by year two you finally learned how not to scald the coffee grounds when doing a pour-over.

Life continued on, and the two of you were still like parallel lines traveling in the same direction side by side and separately.

It’s now the third year of your marriage. You were currently busy in the kitchen, Alhaitham had just informed you earlier there’d be guests coming over tonight. Fortunately, it’s a Friday which meant you had a half day at work. Quickly purchasing ingredients from street vendors on your way back.

He never had any guests over before, so you assumed that these guests must be important people from work.

You even made sure not to use spices that were too fragrant, just in case any of the guests were extremely sensitive to smells, as Alhaitham had informed you they were all Alphas. Tachin was a rather simple but delicious dish to make. You also picked fresh ingredients that would make a very quick and satisfying salad.

Your husband didn’t particularly like soup, but he doesn’t have the right to be picky when you’re the one rushing to cook enough food for five people, so minty bean soup will be on the table. He had a collection of wines in a separate room, you’ll leave the wine selection up to him.

Just as you finished setting the plates and dishes on the table the chime of the doorbell went off. Wiping off your hands and taking off your apron, doing a quick once-over in the hallway mirror before answering the door.

“O-oh… You’re a… Beta…”

The blond Alpha in front of you had a look of bewilderment across his handsome features. Rudy eyes peering down at you in astonishment as you maintained a polite face.

“Oof-”

An elbow was jabbed into the blond’s side as a shorter dark-haired man signaled for him to shut up.

“Thank you for having us over for dinner.” His friendly face gave you a smile.

“Welcome.” You invited all the men in.

The bewildered blond at the door’s name was Kaveh, the dark-haired man was Tighnari, and the white-haired man with the intense gaze was Cyno.

You familiarized yourself with their names, and from time to time you felt their eyes passing glances over at you as they made small talk. Alhaitham was currently picking out a few bottles of wine.

“So, you’re actually his wife… Ah! Of course, it’s no fault of yours. I’m just shocked he’s actually married, I thought he was bluffing when he said he had a wife. There were no signs… Ugh! Great, I owe drinks now.” Kaveh sighed, face in his hands.

“Alhaitham doesn’t want others knowing too much about him. But the proof is right in front of our eyes.” Cyno leaned his elbows on the table.

Ah, it makes sense that people at his work wouldn’t know about you. There weren’t even rings to distinguish the relationship. Usually, relationships nowadays were sensed through the presence of pheromones on the bodies of lovers. However, you were a Beta with no pheromones to cling onto his person. There’s not the slightest chance he ever talked about you. The two of you were also never seen in public together, so in the eyes of many Alhaitham is still a bachelor. There was a slight churn in your stomach, was the soup upsetting it?

“Gossiping about me while sitting in my house and right in front of my wife?”

Alhaitham’s deep voice mysteriously made the knot in your stomach go away, or maybe it was the way he referred to you, ‘my wife’. He placed the bottles of wine and glasses on the table.

“It’s nothing major. We’re just surprised someone is willing enough to stand your arrogance.” Kaveh crossed his arms.

“Unwed people should not have any comments on other’s relationships.”

“Hey! Why you-”

“Huh…” You pondered out loud.

The attention of the men in the room was all on you now.

“Oh, pardon my interruption. I guess I’m just in awe that my husband has friends.”

In an instant laughter ripped through the air.

“Bwahahaha! Alhaitham, I like your wife already! Ahahaha!” Kaveh was laughing so hard tears were forming in his eyes.

Tighnari had one hand gripping the table and the other covering his mouth as he tried desperately to suppress his snickers, ultimately unsuccessfully.

“Well, I’m not sure if friends is the ‘correct’ term.” Cyno’s voice was steady, but you could see the small shakes of his shoulders.

“I’m beginning to wonder if inviting guests to the house was the right decision.”

Still, the dinner continued and the drinks started to pour. After your statement from earlier, the atmosphere at the table became more lighthearted aided by the help of alcohol.

“So, what’s the occasion?” You asked as you took a sip out of your glass.

“Huh? Alhaitham! How did you not tell your wife about your promotion?” Kaveh nearly spat out his wine.

“There’s no reason to dampen her mood with bad tidings.”

“Bad?!-” You wondered if the blond’s voice could shatter the glass in your hands.

“Keeping your cards close to your chest, even from your wife.” Cyno side-eyed your husband.

“Not at all. Not that the unwed head lawyer would need to know.”

“Tsk.” The tan Alpha crossed his arms.

“Now, now just because he didn’t tell his wife doesn’t mean Alhaitham’s a bad husband.” Tighnari tried to dispel the tension while also landing a subtle jab.

“Mmm, congratulations, Haitham.” You swirled your wine.

“Thank you.” Your husband replied.

The three Alphas looked at each other, eyes sending silent messages. They must find your marriage to the ashen-hair Alpha strange. Alpha-Beta pairings were already against convention, but it seems like the two of you matched each other's pace. Two weird people found each other.

After dinner was finished and you bid goodbye to the guests at the front door.

“Be grateful you stone-faced brat… Your wife’s got... too good to be stuck with your stale…”

The two shorter men carrying the blabbering blond off your front steps.

“He’s quite the lightweight.” You briefly mentioned while over the sink.

“I’m just grateful there’s still wine left. Go rest, I’ll get the dishes.” His larger frame takes up the space at the sink, silently encouraging you to move away.

So you left clean-up duty to him, a fair trade for making you cook a feast so out of the blue. As you stood under the warm water pouring over your body in the shower, your mind began to replay the conversations over dinner. They made you realize just how little you actually knew about your own husband despite living under the same roof for three going on four years now.

Once he stepped foot outside of your shared space he was practically a stranger. What was his job like? Who were his friends? What were his favorite places? Hell, even in your house, he was still a stranger. What books is he reading now? When does he find time to work out? What does he do when you leave the house? This realization made you shiver, as you turned the knob to increase the temperature of the water.

It wouldn’t hurt to try and get to know him a little better.

One Sunday morning, you walked into the living room greeted by the sight of him reading one of your old light novels. Seeing his large hand hold the bright book, decorated with a pair of lovers embracing, while his eyes studied the text like his academic papers was almost comical… If only you didn’t wish to sink through the floor in humiliation. He must’ve lost interest in his own books, or maybe he’d gone through his whole collection.

Either way, to prevent such an occurrence from happening again, you began to pick up some books for your husband on your way home.

‘Metaphysics’, ‘Epistemology’, ‘Quantum Mechanics’: those seemed like topics that’d interest him, you reasoned as you stood in line to purchase them. Your eyes caught sight of a certain book, ‘le rouge et le noir’, on a whim you decided to add it to the stack of heavy books. Not for your husband, but rather for yourself.

That night you handed the books over to him as he was about to go to his favorite reading spot on the couch.

“What’s this for?” He stared at the stack of thick books in your hands.

“Just passed by a bookstore and figured you might need something new to read.” You gestured for him to take them.

“You didn’t have to go out of your way to gift this to me. Thank you, I shall read them.” His low voice indifferent as always, finally taking the weight out of your hands.

You proceeded to move over to the smaller sofa in the living room and plopped down. Pulling out the book you had purchased earlier, you glanced up at him eyes questioning why he was staring. Alhaitham cracked open one of the academic journals you gifted him and averted his teal gaze.

This was a break from your normal routine, but you felt like it’d be a nice change to get back into reading. It also gives you the opportunity to learn more about Alhaitham by spending more time in his presence. But more importantly, it would allow you to keep an eye on your husband to ensure he doesn’t go snooping through your bookshelf again. Maybe you should just donate them, but no library in Sumeru would ever accept them.

Soon that break from routine became the norm. Every night after the kitchen table was cleared, dishes cleaned, and bodies freshly towel dried you and Alhaitham will sit adjacent to each other enjoying quiet reading time. The soft light from the tall floor lamps and soft flicks of turning pages adding to the ambiance of the room.

From time to time, you can hear the sound of him writing some sentences down on a notepad. So he likes to take notes on the books he reads. You learned something new.

Another new fact you gained from your observations of your husband was that he reads fast, really fast. He had already finished all three books before you were even halfway done with yours. You had to act fast lest his teal eyes begin to wander towards your bookshelf again. So, you found yourself back at the bookstore once more. Picking up any thick academic journals on topics ranging from ancient ruins to the newest peer-reviewed breakthroughs.

Maybe you should also pick up some notepads and sticky notes, you saw how thin the pad had gotten last night. It just so happened that the romance section was right by the shelves of stationeries. The book from Fontaine you had bought on a whim was in your opinion more psychological than romantic. However, the romantic elements present seems to have reignited your interest in the romance genre.

Oh well, you were grown enough now to not be so easily swooned by poetic descriptions of love. You picked the first book whose description piqued your interest and added it to the basket.

One of the first lessons taught to the children of Sumeru was to be cautious when putting out campfires. If not killed correctly, the unseen smoke can make fallen leaves catch fire. A small flame grows into a hellish blaze that consumes whole acres of forest.

“Thank you very much. Again, this isn’t necessary.” Alhaitham still took the books out of your hands.

The small notepad on top of the stack caught his attention, his teal eyes looked into yours with a questioning glance.

“Your notepad’s running out, and there was a sale.”

“I see.”

From time to time during your quiet reading session, you would glance up, a part of you hoping to see Alhaitham use the new stationery you’ve just bought him. A frown tugged at your lips when you saw he had set it to the side in favor of his old, thinning notepad. Maybe the color isn’t to his liking.

You continue to buy stationeries for him. Any fancy notepads or post-its that caught your eye at a store, every time you give them to him, he would thank you. Then proceed to never use them. Perhaps, the ones you got were too fancy? He seemed to like simple and practical items. Next time you got plainer ones, just simple squares of plain paper, he still left them untouched.

Maybe, you needed to find higher-quality ones. But if he didn’t like them then why does he keep accepting them? Should you try your luck with pens instead, he does go through quite a few. Ah, the sentiment from the very first time you met him still rang true to this day. Alhaitham is a weird Alpha.

He was an enigma to you.

You were an enigma to him.

Alhaitham wasn’t sure when it started, but his mind grew curious about you. Perhaps it’s because he read through his collection of books, or maybe because things at work have been dull lately. Thus, he deduced it was only logical that you started to pique this interest in a bored mind. You lived in the same house and slept in the same bed. With you constantly being in close proximity, of course, he will want to learn more about you after more than three years together.

One of the best ways to start studying you would be to start with your bookshelf. Alhaitham vaguely remembers you saying that you were interested in books, yet in all these years in the same space he hasn’t ever seen you touch your own shelf. What a pity, he could’ve used the extra space for his own books. Running a finger along the row of books, stopping on a random one he made his decision.

Your taste in literature is, how should he put it, very different from his own preferences. The descriptions of the actions taken by the Alpha main character and his Omega lover were idiotic, to say the least. The lengthy declarations of the love and affection they held for each other, and the sentences riddled with exaggerations and rhetoric. The romance between the characters was the priority of the novel, thus the plot suffered greatly from it.

In his opinion, the book was a mess. Yet, he didn’t once feel as if he had wasted his time. Alhaitham discovered a new side to you, is this the type of novel that interests you even as a Beta? The soft taps of your feet suddenly paused as it rounded the corner into the living room. Alhaitham looked up to see a tense look on your face as you stared at the novel currently in his hands.

No words were exchanged between the two of you as you continued to stare, looking at the book then back at him. It was only for a minute at most, yet it felt a lot longer before you turned on your heels without so much as a word. It was brief, but Alhaitham thinks he saw the tips of your ears flush. Oh, did he stumble upon a guilty pleasure of yours?

His actions must have been the cause of this deviation from routine, Alhaitham concluded while staring at the stack of books presented to him. Even on birthdays and holidays, gifts weren’t regularly exchanged between the two of you, so this was certainly a surprise. You were looking at him with eyes urging him to take the heavy books from your hands. He couldn’t refuse the offer.

What came next was even more of a surprise, you sat on the usually empty sofa and pulled out a book of your own. The cover was different from the ones lining your bookshelf, the colors were much simpler, he also notes that the book comes from Fontaine. You were quiet and focused on your own novel, it didn’t cause any disruptions to his sacred reading time so he didn’t say anything about it.

Soon your curled form on the sofa became a regular sight to see. Every now and then you’d readjust your position, trying to find a comfortable way to hold your book while also relaxing. Alhaitham subconsciously scribbles down brief notes on the book he holds in his other hand. Yet this time when he looked down, he had recorded this small detail about you on the paper. He felt your eyes glancing over as he swiftly crossed out what he had just written.

A few days later you gifted him more books along with a new notepad. Now there's an unequal exchange happening. You have now gifted him many items, and he has yet to give you anything in return besides a simple ‘thanks’. What should he give you? Alhaitham pondered the question for a bit.

He realizes that he doesn’t have a firm grasp on your likes and dislikes. Should he try books? No, he’s not familiar enough with your taste in literature to confidently gift a book you’d enjoy. If there was something that you liked, you’d just buy it right then and there with no hesitation with your own money. He thought about it a bit longer.

When you came home from a particularly tiring day of work you’d often have a small take-out bag in your hands. The frown on your face would melt away the moment you pulled the padisarah pudding from the bag. Alhaitham opened his eyes, he has found the gift to give you. But from which cafe did you get that dessert?

“Oh?” You looked at the padisarah pudding currently on the kitchen table.

“It’s for you.” Alhaitham didn’t look up from his book.

“Thank you. Actually, I have something for you as well.” You began to dig through your bag.

Alhaitham glanced up to see you present him a new notepad and a stack of stick notes, the green paper embossed with gold detailing. He hasn’t even touched the first notepad you had gifted with a pen, and here you were giving him another. Now the current gift balance is even more off.

You took your first spoonful of the pudding, his teal eyes secretly peeking at your expression as you processed the flavor. You furrowed your brow slightly holding the spoon in your mouth, then shrugged your shoulder as you took another bite. Your face didn’t light up like when you ate the ones you bought.

Tsk, this means Alhaitham bought it from the wrong store. He knows he could simply just ask you which place made your favorite pudding. However, he finds the opportunity for experimentation in front of him more interesting. He wonders what faces you’ll give for each variation of the dessert.

He gained more knowledge about you, you have a sweet tooth. He already guessed from your fondness for a certain dessert, but those were a treat for once in a while. You liked fruits, often snacking on them when you were bored on your phone, or as a late-night snack when reading.

“Mmmh.” You looked down at the zaytun peach in your hand.

“Is something the matter?” He asked, placing his cup of coffee down.

“Which vendor did you get this peach from?” You looked over at him.

“Why? Is there something wrong with the quality?”

“No, I like it. It’s got the right amount of firmness and sweetness.” You took another bite.

Alhaitham made sure to only get zaytun peaches from that specific vendor.

Currently, the head secretary was facing a small dilemma. On his desk he has amassed quite a collection of stationeries. All in part thanks to you, he took some of the notepads and sticky notes to his office, your gifting habits slowed when it looked like he was using them. The ashen-haired man could not pinpoint where this sudden obsession of giving him stationeries came from.

Although, he has to admit it is quite amusing to watch the expression on your face as you watched his every time you handed over a new office item. It reminds him of a cat presenting its owner with shiny objects it had found, waiting for its human to react. But the current gift exchange ratio is still off.

His teal eyes scanned the report that had been placed on his desk earlier in the morning, there were a lot of important details between the lines on the pages. He should list down the details on a note before passing it on to the CEO. A hand reached towards the pile of post-its on his desk, courtesy of you, before it stopped.

‘It would be too much of a waste to use good quality paper for such a tedious task.’ He reasons as he used one of the subpar post-its provided by the office.

Dropping the report off at the CEO’s desk before he headed out for his lunch break. Walking to his favorite cafe, a familiar flash of color caught his eyes, a florist was selling potted pardisarahs. You did always seem to admire the colorful flowers that decorated the top of the dessert.

He stood there on the street contemplating the plant. Padisarahs are fickle flowers, needing a specific blend of soil and precisely measured amounts of water. Too much sun and the fragile petals will burn, too little and the vibrancy of its leaves fade. He concluded that he didn’t want to bestow such a hassle on you.

Returning from his lunch break to his office, Alhaitham was greeted by a great violation of his personal space. Covering his desk were stacks of new proposals and applications, those weren’t out of the ordinary. But the colorful squares plastered all over each new proposal were:

Please approve these proposals secretary Alhaitham! They are very important! ASAP

Here are the calculations of the research funds for next year, take a look at them - T

Alhaitham you better approve my application this time, the project is already delayed and I filed this paperwork twice! If you have any respect for your senior then approve this as soon as possible! - K

Head secretary, these are the new amendments to company policies. The legal team is awaiting your approval before we proceed with the implementation. - C

They used the stationeries that you had gifted him to write nonsense. They had the gall to ask him for favors after they touched his desk without permission and wasted such pretty paper.

Every proposals on his desk got thrown in the trash without so much as a glance. Nothing got approved, next time they should carefully consult his listed work hours outside the office.

He didn’t think he’d have to make a sign that said ‘do not touch the items on my desk’ to a workplace of grown adults, but he was very much contemplating it now.

Later that night, his annoyance from earlier in the day melted away once he cracked open the new book gifted to him. Your form comfortably wrapped in a light quilt as you cradled yours. The minutes turned into hours, the silence comfortable like the heat from a fireplace. A soft snap echoed through the room, your hand moving towards your face from the corner of his eye.

“Is something the matter?”

“Mm? Oh, no. The ending was just sad.” You wiped a tear from your other eye.

He learned something new about himself today, he didn’t like seeing you cry.

You really should’ve known better. Like Icarus, you’ve flown too close to the sun. The glue binding the wings of maturity and sanity you’ve crafted started to melt and fall apart, causing you to plunge down. Falling back into the obsession of ‘love’. What started as just one book, turned into two, turned into four. Now your once sparsely populated shelves were crowded with new romance titles of all sorts.

“You’re rather late today.” Alhaitham’s voice made you freeze in place.

Why did the living room have to be so close to the front door, maybe you should’ve snuck back in through the back door. Sneaking back into your own house, did you revert back to a teenager while in your fourth year of marriage?

“Sorry ‘bout that, I got caught up with friends.”

That was a blatant lie, your poor friends were dragged into your mess all because you couldn’t be honest. You weren’t in their company, no, you were in the theaters watching a film alone. But how could you ever admit to him that as the Alpha and Omega lovers danced on the screen, you pictured your faces over theirs?

Alhaitham acknowledged your explanation with a small hum, never looking up from his book. Good, because you were certain if he did, he would’ve seen right through your lie.

Was your handsome husband the spark that rekindled your obsession? Or was it the stories you’ve been consuming that made your heart thump harder in his presence?

You weren’t sure which was which, but you couldn’t deny the truth you’ve buried. You were in love with Alhaitham. It was an undeniable fact. From the beginning, you’ve always liked him. His quiet demeanor, his baritone voice, and his teal-orange eyes. But now you were in love with them, every aspect of him. You hated how helpless it made you feel.

But you secretly liked how good it felt. After years of dormancy, you finally felt it, the rush described to you in those stories. That can’t sleep love, that delicious burn of pining, the itch in your chest as you laid in bed next to him. Two quilts defining the unseen boundaries of personal space, you longed to creep over it but you lacked the courage.

What does he smell like? The same shower and laundry products were shared between the two of you. But that is not what you meant. What did his pheromones smell like? Was it a cool fresh scent, cool like the minty streaks hidden through his ashen hair? Or was it deep and woodsy? Maybe he smells like the pages of an old library book.

You used to pity your Omega classmates, for you knew the stigma and inconveniences they will face in their lives. However, right now you envied them to the point of nausea. They knew what Alhaitham’s scent was, but you don’t. Why did you have to be a Beta?

The demon known as insecurity you thought you’ve left behind was actually lurking in your shadow the whole time.

Maybe you should check yourself into the Bimarstan, the fever of love feels as if it’s melting your brain. His gaze felt piercing now, his accidental skinships seared your skin. You had no one to blame but yourself, Alhaitham is not at fault, you were the one who fell into the fire as he sat in his place on the couch unaware. Even after four years you still couldn’t be honest with your own husband.

Feelings were never discussed because he believed you had a mutual understanding that this was for convenience.

You can’t tell him you wanted more. How can you tell him you wanted more? There’s already a wall four years in the making, too great to overcome.

‘I need to rein myself in’ Alhaitham thought as his eyes followed your figure through the crowd below. It was a slow Friday at work so he decided to walk away from his desk, arriving at an overpass that looked over the streets of Sumeru. Something compelled him to look below, and under the golden sun there you were, and by your side was another Alpha.

Dehya is her name, a good friend of yours that you introduced once before leaving for a birthday celebration. A good friend who had the privilege to ruffle your hair and loop an arm around your shoulders as she ushers you into one of the many stalls filled with glittering trinkets.

His hand tightened its grip on the railing, why did she have privileges he was denied? Alhaitham felt he was stalking his own wife. Idiotic really.

Skinship was not commonplace between you, an unseen glass wall defining the boundaries of your personal space. Whenever his skin met yours, you’d flinch and pull away as if you were burned. He always just apologize and the two of you would move on without another word. Hell, even if his eyes lingered on you for too long you’d tense up.

It’s been happening more often now, is it because his eyes started wandering more towards your figure or how his hand itched to hold yours?

Were you scarred by a past relationship? Were your flinches the remnants of a darker period in your life before him? His jaw clenched. By pulling a few strings he had pulled up more files of your past, to satisfy his mind’s hungry, but there was nothing. It only made his curiosity hunger more, or was it something else? Alhaitham wanted answers to why you hated his touches and stares, yet wanted to be in his presence and give him gifts.

There was only one conclusion he could come up with: you liked your personal space. And he will respect it, but why did your friends not have to?

There was now a knot in his stomach as if a beast was clawing at it, maybe he should call off work and head to the Bimarstan. He disappeared from the overpass.

–

“Haitham.” He heard your soft pounds on the door.

“Leave some hot water for me.” He could envision the pout on your lips, and that’s what brought him over the edge.

Watching with shameless eyes as the evidence of his guilt washed down the shower drain, running water masking his pants.

If he can’t touch you, that doesn’t mean he can’t think about you; words spoken like a true creep he silently chastised. Alhaitham doesn’t care to admit how long he’s been doing this, perhaps his primal urges weren’t as controlled as he believed.

It’s strange really, you’re a Beta yet you make him have these urges.

You don’t produce any pheromones to cling onto his body. But by using the same shower products as you, it serves the same purpose of scenting no? A foolish voice Alhaitham pushed from the back of his mind, taking another pump of your body wash. Maybe he should check the dosage of his inhibitors.

–

The only opportunity he got to observe you closely was when you were asleep. ‘You’re quite the heavy sleeper’, he notes as his eyes traced over the subtle curves of your cheeks, the contours of your nose, and the softness of your lips.

It’s accepted wisdom that Omegas were the most beautiful people. The top A-list singers and actors being Omegas only solidified the belief. However, Alhaitham’s confident your existence could challenge that very notion.

If it weren’t for your distinct lack of a scent, any Alpha could’ve mistaken you for an Omega. Even his guests were taken aback by how your appearance didn’t match your status as a Beta.

There was a pang in his chest. If he felt those urges when looking at you, then it’s guaranteed that others, specifically other Alphas, have felt it as well. But why? He trusted you to stay true to your convictions of loyalty and integrity… He wasn’t so sure about others though. Even with the inhibitors coursing through his system, he couldn’t seem to push down that annoying hand clawing at his back.

You stirred, huddling into your blanket more, snapping his attention back. ‘Oh, you must be cold again’. The houses in Sumeru were designed to keep hot air out, so when a northern cold front blew in, you definitely felt it.

Quietly getting up, Alhaitham pulled the spare quilt out of the closet, gently layering it over your curled form. The knit between your brows disappeared as a pleased expression overtook your face. Were you having a pleasant dream? Was he ever included? Subconsciously his hand began to reach for your face, only to freeze.

‘Personal space’ he reminds himself as he strolls out of the bedroom.

It makes no sense to him, you’re a Beta. In fact, the reason why he married you in the first place was because he believed your lack of pheromones and lack of heats won’t disrupt his peaceful life. The matchmaker had called him her biggest challenge, persevering only because of a promise made to his late grandma.

So, how were you still corrupting his thoughts like this?

He should read to calm his mind before he attempts to join you back in bed. Thoughts running laps in his head, analyzing then overanalyzing every last explanation he could come up with.

Alhaitham’s greedy hands made their way over to your bookshelf, perhaps he could sedate a bit of his curiosity as well. Pulling the Fontainian novel that marked the start of a tradition.

Under the golden glow of a lamp he flipped through the pages, it seems that your taste in literature has matured. Teal eyes skimming past a paragraph before going back to do a double take.

‘Love born in the brain is more spirited, doubtless, than true love, but it has only flashes of enthusiasm; it knows itself too well, it criticizes itself incessantly; so far from banishing thought, it is itself reared only upon a structure of thought.’

He reached an epiphany.

It looks like you’ve been careless recently. Too distracted by the task of masking your infatuation of your husband from your husband, and maintaining your independent mask to realize that Alhaitham had once again finished all his books.

The novel right in front of you, moved from its place on your shelf, was proof of that.

‘It’s a good book’

Your husband’s neat handwriting was present on the small mint post-it plastered on the front cover. It was a simple gesture yet it made your heart flutter as if you had won the achievement of a lifetime. You finally got Alhaitham to use one of the many stationeries gifted to him.

Carefully peeling the paper off the cover, then folding it to tuck it away in your pocket.

“At least it’s not another light novel this time.” You affirmed, sticking the book back into its spot.

“The mahamatra have announced a total recall of the inhibitors distributed during the past three months, with reports-”

You were lost in your own little world, contemplating just which books haven’t you bought for your husband yet. Tuning out the sounds of the bookstore playlist and TV as your eyes scanned the titles of the thick books in front of you.

Would he like Sci-Fi? Sure it’s not academic but maybe it’ll have nuggets of information in there that’d catch his interest.

The weight of the books made your bag strap dig into your shoulder, seeing the house in the distance, you picked up your pace for the home stretch. Tomorrow marks the start of a four-day public holiday, and after the crunch time your boss put you through to tie up loose ends. You needed it.

Turning the keys in the knob you entered your peaceful little safe haven.

Only to immediately feel the heaviness in the air.

Your husband should be home by now, yet the spot on the couch remained empty. His shoes were placed at the door, albeit messily. Kicking off yours as you placed the bag on the coffee table, you navigated your way through the halls.

The atmosphere was quiet, but not the comforting silence you’ve experienced for the last five years.

“Haitham?” You called out, about to turn the corner into the master bedroom.

His black button-down and slacks were thrown all over the floor, a large lump was currently huddled under your blankets on your side of the bed. ‘Oh, he must be napping’.

Two years in, Alhaitham slept shirtless again like he did before you came. Never before were you grateful that your job made you get up at ungodly 8 am, but having an extra 30 minutes to look at his godly body as he slept made mornings bearable.

Still, the air didn’t feel right and even if he was messy sometimes, your husband never just threw his clothes on the ground when the laundry basket was right in the corner. His breathing also seemed labored.

“Haitham, are you sick?” Reaching a hand into the cocoon of blankets, feeling for his temperature.

A sharp inhale was heard as his breathing stilled, his skin was burning. You moved onto a different patch of skin to confirm it. He must have a fever.

“You’re burning! I’ll get medicine and water, don’t move.” Your hand quickly retracted.

Just as your back was turned towards him, like a monster from beneath the blankets a pair of arms entrapped you.

“H-haitham?” His touch was searing you.

“W-woah?!”

In an instant, you were pinned under Alhaitham’s towering form, the soft sheets cushioning your body. The place where he once curled was twisted and balmy. Your eyes shoot up at him as he hovered above, your body stiffened. A scarlet haze offset the brilliant teal hue you’ve grown so infatuated with, a sense of impending danger ran down your neck.

He doesn’t have a fever, he’s in a rut.

Your thoughts were running wild, bouncing around in your skull as his labored breathing above continued. In all five years, you’ve never seen Alhaitham go into a rut, he was always diligent with his inhibitors. You’ve never been around an Alpha in rut, after all, you were never the one to trigger it.

It’s embarrassing really, you had no idea what to do, all your experience with ruts came from those steamy light novels.

“H-haitham, let me up, I’ll get your inhibitors...” You tried to tug your wrists from his grasp.

Big mistake. His grip tightened as he buried his face into the side of your neck, a low rumble was felt from his chest. Alhaitham had his nose right up against your neck, taking deep inhales as if he was trying to detect something.

You shivered as your body temperature shot up, you’ve never been this close to him, the brushes of his ashen locks against your neck made your legs rub together.

“Hey…” You moved your neck away, the sensation was almost overwhelming.

“Stay still.” A baritone voice vibrated against you.

On command your body stilled, muscles refusing to move as Alhaitham continued his search. His breath was against your ear, tickling it as he took deep inhales of your hair. A low groan was heard as if he was frustrated with something.

“Not enough.”

“Huh?-”

The sound your blouse getting torn off your body resonated through the air. Even will a layer of clothing gone, your body felt hotter. Just as you began to process the loss of your favorite blouse, another rip rang in your ears. Your skirt was now gone as well. You were so vulnerable under his touches.

Dragging his nose down from your neck, over your covered breasts, then along your belly. His hands now gripped your thighs as he shifts down to part them effortlessly, eyes focused on your covered cunt.

Your mind was groggy, reactions dulled, why was the room so hot? Suddenly you felt his nose against your cunt, taking long whiffs of the slick that was beginning to wet the fabric of your panties. That was enough to spark action from you.

“H-hey!” Your hands pushed against his messy locks as your thighs tried to preserve your dignity.

“Ah!” You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your mouth.

In protest of your attempt to shut him out of heaven, Alhaitham bit into the soft flesh of your thigh. Hazy eyes looking straight into yours, warning you to not do it again. His intense gaze made something deep in your cunt pulse.

Sharp teeth released soft skin as his attention was back on the honeypot in front of him. Your panties offered as much resistance as wet paper against his swift tug, the fabric now on the floor in pieces.

Your cunt twitched with each hot breath that hit against its wet lips. With the thin barrier gone, Alhaitham can now freely bury his nose against your honeypot, tingles ran up his spine as the sweet musk of your slick sent his olfactory system into chaos. His throat felt parched as if he had just trekked the desert, he needed a taste.

“Ah! Ahhh,” your back arched as his hot tongue lapped against your cunt.

Alhaitham was slurping up your slick like a depraved beast, wet muscles sliding up the whole length of your slit, occasionally dipping into the contracting hole. Your whole body shook when the smoothness of his tongue ran across your clit, toes curling in the air.

The shower head couldn’t bring out this level of pleasure. The fantasies you envisioned during your long showers couldn’t compare to the scene happening right now. His ministration continued, each stroke of his tongue sending blinding waves of pleasure.

His hips were angrily rutting against the sheets, erection rubbing against the fabric impatiently. But he had to taste you more, his mind hazy as it craved nothing more than your taste. It was his first taste, but he was already addicted. Your legs tensed up in his grip as a loud whine left your lips, your body shaking as a sudden rush of slick was welcomed onto his awaiting tongue.

Your sensitive body tried to flinch away as he continued to lap against your swollen lips and clit but his iron grip on your legs didn’t let you budge an inch. Eyes rolled back as the sweet torture continued.

Your body convulsed, did you just cum again? Two orgasms sapped you of all strength, everything fell limp as your moans continued to fill the room. Your mind too foggy to even process the feeling of embarrassment. It felt so good, yet it was torturing, your cunt was sobbing for something else.

As if taking mercy on your desperation, or maybe his desperation had reached its limit, Alhaitham pulled away. Teary eyes followed his motion, watching as he aligned his length with your greed.

You’ve seen him walk out of the shower in just a towel, how did he hide this behind a puny towel?

Your cunt’s eagerness blocked any hesitation from reaching your brain as his length dragged itself against your soaked lips. The pillow behind your head was not enough, you needed something more solid to hold onto, to ground the last shred of your sanity.

Shaky hands released the plush pillows, outstretched towards Alhaitham’s immense frame. A growl ripped through his chest as he dove into your arms at the same time as his length thrusted fully inside you.

“OH!” Your fingers left deep stretches along his shoulder blades.

His pants and soft growls vibrated against your neck as your eyes rolled back again, the fullness you’d been craving has been fulfilled. The stretch burned in all the right ways as your walls clung onto his member, thick and hard. Soft legs locked around a solid torso, your body pressed against his as his frame pinned yours to the bed. Just as you were adjusting to feeling of his length inside, his hips began moving.

They were merciless, slapping against your hips and ass as the force made your whole body bounce. His length punishes your walls as it pulled out to just the tip only to be slammed back in at full strength. You clung to his muscular body for dear life, breasts bouncing out of their home in your bra.

Nonsense was spilling out of your mouth as your brain malfunctioned from the blinding flashes of pleasure. The slick slaps of your cunt eagerly welcoming his every move and the headboard of the bed knocking against the wall complimented each other.

Alhaitham’s pants were growing heavier, growls deeper as his tongue began to trace up and down your neck. The sensation along with his thick tip bullying your poor sweet spot pushed you over the edge for the third time. Walls clamping down to milk him as your legs squeezed him, the pleasure was toeing the edge of pain, much like how your brain was on the verge of madness.

Nothing interrupted the pistoning of his hips as he fucked you through your orgasm, heavy balls slapping against your swollen lips.

As the high was beginning to wear off, his pace became impossibly fast, the solid wood headboard now banging against the poor wall. Your bodies rocking together on the bed, he buried his face deeper into your neck. His teeth danced along your shoulder as your moans sang in his ears. He wanted to hear more of it.

Alhaitham’s hips slammed against yours one final time before they stilled, teeth digging into your shoulder to suppress a moan, burying his length deep inside your cunt as his thick seed spilled.

Your greed drank all of it up gratefully as your shoulder stung.

Your chest was raising and falling fast, lungs trying to hog all the air that it could hold. Heart pounding hard in your ears. Tears and drool wet your face as your head fell weakly to the side on the soft pillow. You were completely spent as your arms didn’t even have the strength to hold onto him. Limbs limp and nerves fried.

Above you Alhaitham continued to pant into your shoulder, length still buried inside.

After a couple more harsh pants and deep breaths, you felt him stir, pushing against the bed to unpin you from his frame.

“Ah-hh ahh~” You felt your walls clench once more around his length as he pulled out, a thick string of mixed slick connected his tip to your hole.

Your body longed for rest as you turned onto your stomach, face pressed against the pillow, still panting heavily as your eyes closed.

Two large hands grasped firmly onto your hips, startling your consciousness back as you looked over your shoulder.

Alhaitham still had that scarlet haze in his eyes as he lifted your hips up, watching as more mixed fluids began to tickle out of your abused hole. Your eyes shifted down and you gulped, he was still erect.

You were quite foolish to believe that one round was enough to satisfy an Alpha in rut. However, if it weren’t for his firm grasp on your hips, your body would’ve collapsed back into the sheets.

A loud whine left your throat, vocalizing your exhaustion to him. It’s been a long time since you got any action, the two of you didn’t even consummate on the wedding night, it was spent packing your stuff.

You tried to shift your hips out of his grip but he only held on tighter, earning another whine.

Soft kisses were pressed against your back as if he was trying to soothe you. It was pathetic how weak you were to them, instantly melting against the pillow. Maybe you can last one more round you thought as his length rubbed against your slit again.

Thanks to the extra prep and lubrication from the last round your walls were much more accustomed to the stretch as Alhaitham entered once more. His beginning thrusts were much more slowed and controlled than before as you moaned softly into the pillow.

This couldn’t last sadly, as his lust overtook him again and his hips once again slammed into you, forcing a choked moan from you. Using his hands, he held your body up as he pulled all the way out until the tip then cruelly forced it all back into you.

You wanted to beg him to rest, but you also wanted to beg for more. Your sloppy cunt accepted all his punishing movements with gratitude as the wet walls thanked his length with kiss-like contractions.

Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, mind absolutely blank, the pleasure must’ve melted your brain. All you could do was grip the tear-soaked pillow and let out moan after moan, the poor wall still getting beaten by the movement of the headboard. Tension building up once more in you.

Somewhere along the lines, you felt his teeth graze against your nape as his thrust picked up the pace once more, a sign that he was close to finishing. He was panting against the back of your neck as if he was searching for something. With a particularly harsh snap of his hips, he bites deeply into your nape as he releases a fresh batch of seed.

“Why?”

You felt the frustrated growls against your skin as he bites again at a different angle. The pleasureful pain seems to have jump started your brain for just a second.

‘Oh, he’s trying to bond.’ You felt Alhaitham’s soft locks brush against your shoulders as he continued his fruitless search.

You were once reminded that you were just a Beta, unable to form a bond. He could bite your neck as many times as he wanted. His teeth can pierce the flesh until the skin was raw, but it would be all for naught. He’ll never get that satisfaction. You don’t have the glands to be bitten, to be marked, to be bonded with.

You weren’t an Omega. There was now a heavy knot in your chest.

–

You weren’t even sure what day it was, all you can recall is the hazy cycle of intense lust followed by a lull before the next round. During the lull, you did your damnedest to keep yourself and him hydrated, often having to lure him into the kitchen for some much-needed water and quick snacks.

The air of the house was thick with the musk of sweat and desire, very nerve of yours fried from pleasure.

Once again your body was pinned under his, legs thrown over his shoulders as his hips desperately snapped against yours.

Every article of clothing has long since been removed, allowing your breasts to bounce along with every thrust. By now you were certain the shape of him was pounded into your cunt. The soaked sheets below clutched in your hands as if to ground you from floating up to cloud nine.

The harsh pants and low growls above you increased in frequency in time with his thrusts. He must be close again.

Fortunately, you’ve noticed that the breaks between each round have been getting longer and longer. A sign that the rut was ending. If you survive this you’ll bring offers to the sanctuary of surasthana to thank the archons for their blessing. Maybe after the feeling returns back to your legs of course.

Suddenly your face was pushed into the side of his neck, the scent of sweat now stronger.

“Bite.” His rugged voice commanded.

Ah… he wanted you to mark him. With clumsy teeth, you felt around the smooth muscles. You can’t sense where his glands were so you just bit down at random along his neck. It was useless, you knew it, but still...

Alhaitham pushed himself eagerly against your teeth, encouraging you to bite harder with a growl. You obliged.

His teeth ran along your raw neck, already covered in his bites and hickeys, searching for one last spot. Your jaw clamped down harder as his teeth sank into your neck one last time. Hips stilling as one final wave flooded into you, it was hard to tell when one orgasm ended and another began.

Your hands found purchase around his back again, holding him close as you panted against his neck. Against yours a frustrated growl vibrated once more, his muddled mind confused as to why no bond has formed.

“Why?”

There was that cold pierce of pain again.

The large hand on the back of your head held your nose close against his searing skin. It could’ve just been your fried nerves, but as the darkness overtook your vision, you could’ve sworn there was a warm and opulent scent of wood and books.

If you were reborn, in the next life could you recognize his scent?

Your eyes opened up to blinding sunlight. Your body ached as if it had been through hell and back, bones threatening to turn into dust at any second. The large bed messy and only occupied by one body. Shifting your sight away from the stinging light, his empty pillow came into view.

You weren’t sure what came over you, but even as your muscles screamed you pressed your nose into the cold pillow and inhaled. Nothing. Just sweat and disappointment.

Just what were you hoping for? That a few nights of passion would birth a miracle? That you’d somehow turn into something you couldn’t be? In the end, you were still you. Those novels must’ve rotted your common sense, stupid.

Bitter tears fell onto the pillow, you didn’t have the strength to hold back the sobs as they wrecked through your body.

Yes, you were stupid. So stupid from the very start to believe that this could work. That maybe after a few more years, maybe at the seven-year mark, he could fall in love with you as well.

The dream of his tender eyes looking into yours with love crumbled right there in front of you.

A cup clanged onto the desk in the room as footsteps quickly made their way to your side, a blurred figure knelt down.

“Is your body hurting anywhere? I’ll take you to the Bimarstan.” Alhaitham gently sat your covered figure up, trying to see the extent of the situation.

Your small hands pushed against his solid frame, his motion stilled as you refused to allow him to see your face.

However, Alhaitham knows he didn’t have the right to. Not only did he invade your sacred personal space, but he did so like a wild beast. Not allowing your body to rest or replenish itself as he trapped you to the bed for almost four days. He deduced that you must be hurting, that you must be scared of him now, and that must be the reason behind your tears.

Guilt was suffocating him. Those stupid urges, that stupid rut. His stupid hands refusing to let you go.

Throughout your whole marriage, you had put on the mask of independence, someone who did not need to lean on a husband for comfort. Yet here you were, bawling out your eyes in front of him like a child. Your façade has been cracked, tears soaking into his pillow and snot trickling down under his unwavering gaze.

What was the look on his face right now? You couldn’t see through the mirage of tears blurring your sight, not that you had the courage to face him. Was it disappointment? Right now as he observed your vulnerable figure, did he feel lied to after all these years? Like he had just discovered the defects in a product?

The freezing water of self-loathing, doubt, and insecurity filled you like a boat whose haul had been pierced by the jagged edges of an iceberg. You were drowning, your limbs kicking and thrashing with all their might trying to resurface.

For a brief moment, your face bobbed above the crashing waves.

“Let's get a divorce.”

Those were the only words you managed to choke out in the space between your sobs before your head disappeared under the murky waters once more.

His whole body froze as he processed your words. Alhaitham had already deduced why you wanted to end this relationship, he had hurt and scarred you. Yet, like a child, he still wanted to clamber for more answers.

“Why?” He said through clenched teeth, you couldn’t see it but his hands had a slight shake.

“We’re not satisfied, Alhaitham. I-it’s not working, I-i can’t satisfy your requirements. I-i can’t make you happy, I-i can’t make you love… me.” Hiccups breaking up your sentences.

That was it, you spilled out all your secrets. Your lungs and throat hurting as if you just pushed salt water out of them.

Alhaitham’s hands were balled up so tightly his nails broke the skin on his palms.

So, you weren’t happy. He couldn’t make you happy. He felt as if he had dropped down to the tier of a fool. A fool who didn’t know how to make those bitter tears of yours stop.

He released you.

You felt his presence disappear from your side. The touch of warmth he provides was now gone as coldness fully engulfs your whole being. The tears just wouldn’t stop. Is this what those heartbroken sobs actually felt like? Why did you ever think this was something to be desired? You truly were an idiot.

You weren’t sure how long had passed, a few seconds or a few minutes, but his presence returned back to your side. He looked as if he had something in his hands. Were they divorce papers? Ah, Alhaitham was a man who always had a plan for everything. Did he have a premonition that this marriage was doomed from the start? How long has he had them?

Alhaitham didn’t feel like he had the right to touch you. However, he needed to do something to make you look at him. Please, just look at him. His large hands tenderly grasped yours as if they were made from glass. You still hid your face from him.

“I won’t bind you to a life that brings you unhappiness. But.. You have to tell me” His voice wasn’t as steady as he wanted it.

“If you want strolls through the market, tell me. If you want to be woken up with sweet whispers, tell me. If you want to hold hands across a date night table, then tell me. You have to tell me what will make you happy.” He wasn’t sure if those were your unfulfilled desires or his.

You could only tighten your grip on his hands as you sobbed harder.

Your statement from before was incorrect. Alhaitham is also at fault for this pain you were going through. If there was one feeling that was just as addictive as love, it would be hope. Please, please don’t give false hope.

“I-i’ll disrupt your-r life…” You managed to choke out.

His thumb gently stroke the back of your knuckles.

“How could you ever disrupt something you’re a part of?”

Your hesitant eyes finally met his teal gaze, his eyes soft as opposed to their usual stonewall stare. With the walls down, you were given a glimpse into the whirling emotions behind them. Endearment, sincerity, and hurt danced along the green-blue irises.

“As for your last reason, here. I should’ve just given this to you directly.” His hands let go of yours, picking up the item he had brought.

He handed over the book you had placed back on your bookshelf a few days earlier, the one he had left his note on. So, he didn’t have divorce papers prepared? Your trembling hands accepted it, and through your teary eyes, you finally noticed the torn-out green and gold note contrasting between the cream pages.

Tenderly, you unfolded the piece of paper retrieved from the book. Quickly blinking to clear your eyes from excess tears. In the neat script of Alhaitham’s handwriting:

‘Love born in the heart as opposed to Love born in the brain:

When one loves at first sight or goes looking for love, then one is essentially just attracted to someone for the sake of being with someone. Not looking objectively at any warning signs or relationship flaws one has with someone. If there are any issues, the bias of infatuation blinds you to them.

So that's loving with the heart, based solely on carefree addictive emotion, even though it feels stronger and more enthusiastic on the surface.

Love from the brain is more logical and objective. You take the time to understand a person, seeing them for them with unbiased eyes. You understand them thoroughly and can maturely and objectively work through the turbulence of life together. Individuals who set aside precious time to manually repair creaks, maintaining the structural integrity of a home that shelters their affections.

With the diligence of a conservator preserving ancient scripts on papyrus that should have been disintegrated long ago.

The latter rather than the former describes the bond forged between my wife and I.’

Your grip crumpled the side of the paper.

“What does this mean?” Hesitation in your voice as tears blurred your vision of his teal eyes.

“I love you.” He confessed. Three words have been overdue for years.

‘Don’t be filled with false hope’ Your mind echoed.

“I’m not an Omega…”

“That’s not a requirement for love.”

That was it. It was as if you’ve been waiting all this time for him to say those words. The words of affirmation you didn’t know you needed. The key to free you from the cage of insecurity you’ve built for yourself.

Your feet now touched the warm sandy bottom as air rushed back into your lungs.

It looks like you’ve figured it out. Regardless of what definition of love has been pushed by external forces, these feelings he holds for you are objectively pure and true love. His hands tenderly took yours away from its grip on the paper. If you wanted him to, Alhaitham will spend the rest of his life proving it to you. He’ll conduct every experiment and collect all the data points to present to you.

How silly, a red thread spun by two pairs of hands, created through undying trust, respect, and admiration had already tied the two of you in a bond. The love you were trying so hard for had always been right in front of you for five years.

The blanket draped behind your head resembled a wedding veil as the fabric folded and gathered around your trembling body. ‘Beautiful’ He thought.

The room was a mess, sheets and clothes strewn all across the floor. The musk of lust still hung heavy in the air, the residue of sweat and other fluids still clinging to skin. Your hair was all over the place, tears still pouring from your eyes, his hair was no better. But in this moment, there was nothing more Alhaitham wanted to do than this:

“Will you take me, Alhaitham, as your lawfully married husband? To love me through sickness and health, through poverty and wealth, and through sun and rain?”

Sobs were still wracking through your body, words unable to form in your mouth but you were nodding your head enthusiastically. Your hands felt small firmly holding onto his larger ones.

“I, Alhaitham, will take you as my lawfully married wife. I will love you through sickness and health, through poverty and wealth, and through sun and rain… I do.”

It was a silly sight to behold, but in this moment as he finally sees a smile break out on your face, it means the world to him.

There’s a saying from a well-known poet from Fontaine it goes as follows:

‘Love is being stupid together.’

And clearly, the two of you have been very stupid. Oh so stupidly in love.

Fin~

Authors note:

The long quote was taken from Stendhal’s The Red and The Black

The last quote is from Paul Valery

Also communication is v important to any relationship, people can’t read minds Alhaitham. If you made it this far, thank you and hope you enjoyed!

DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.

7K notes · View notes

bvidzsoo · 2 months

Text

Marionette

The second star of Cosmically divine...

☆ Author: bvidzsoo

☆ Pairing: Kang Yeosang x female reader

☆ Warning: nudity, cursing, consensual smut, corruption kink, blood, violence, cutting off a hand, allusion to pedophilia (but he pays for it lol karma is a bitch)

☆ Word count: 8.6k

☆ Rating: nsfw

☆ Genre: Greek mythology, Yeosang is Aphrodite's son, forbidden relation

☆ Summary: Doomed from the beginning, your mother, Hera, only saw a weapon in you. If you had once thought she loved you, she proved you wrong the second she cast you away once you failed to kill her enemy's son. Yeosang, Aphrodite's dearest and most prized offspring.

☆ A/N: Hii, lovelies! Second instalment of this series is here, and I swear to God this is the last time I write it in one setting bcz my wrist is falling off currently lol. I really really like this part, I am so curious to hear what you all think of it ! I genuinely appreciate your feedback, and the ones you've left on the previous part legit had me giggling and in tears, I love you all! <3 The taglist is still open, so lmk if you want to be added to it. This is a small side note, but I've read not too long ago a Yungi story that is absolutely amazing and is a Greek mythology au, and whenever I'm writing a part for this series I get reminded of it, so, let me share it with you if you are curious to read it, it's so good!! I'll point out a few things before I let you read the story:

★ This is inspired by Greek mythology, but I took creative liberty and adapted it to my likes, so keep that in mind while reading, thank you! ★ Aphrodite is the Goddess of love, beauty, desire, and all aspects of sexuality ★ Hera is the Goddess of marriage, women, and family, and the protector of women during childbirth ★ Athena is the Goddess of war, handicraft, and wisdom and the patroness of Athens ★ Hades is the God of the underworld ★ Dionysus is the God of wine-making, orchards and fruit, vegetation, fertility, festivity, insanity, ritual madness, religious ecstasy, and theatre ★ Tartarus lies far beneath the disk of the world, under Hades' underworld, it's used as the ultimate of prisons, unpleasant and inaccessible ★ Elysian Fields is part of the underworld and is where the good go ★ Athenai are a group of women who followed and worshiped Athena ★ Dion is a village and municipal unit in the municipality of Dion-Olympos in the Pieria regional unit, Greece; it's known for its sanctuary of Zeus and its ancient city (definitely give it a visit if you're in the area!) ★ (Athens is the capital city of Greece) ocean divider; greek divider

☆ Taglist: @patchofblue @sthwaaberry @constipatedcorgi @holytidalwavechees3cake @cheolliehugs

@slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @hoeforsungie @madebysvt

༄ ҉ Series m.list ༄ ҉ 　★ previous star ★

Right by the foothill of Mount Olympus and just a few hours away from the lively village of Dion, hidden in a little meadow of the evergreen forest, almost a day long walk from Lake Naia, lay the fun house of Dionysus. Men and women, Gods and Goddesses were welcomed here, scrutinizing and judgmental eyes turning into indifferent and lustful ones, whatever your heart desired a possibility to become reality if whispered to the right person or deity. Selfless and desperate men found solace in the caresses of nymphs that ventured down from Mount Olympus to the fun house, desperate to get away from the clutches of merciless deities that took advantage of them at the smallest chance given. Gods and Goddesses who were tired of the mistreatment enabled by their superiors and were in desperate need of a night where they could let go, often stumbled through the threshold of the fun house. Dionysus loved calling it a fun house because that’s what it truly was, a house that offered you whatever you had in mind when you thought of the word fun. It came in the form of alcohol, music, entertainment and dancing, but it also came in the form of wanton moans, desperate touches, and whispered climaxes. Whatever you had in mind, you’d probably find it at the fun house. The wine was unlimited here as long as you left something of yours behind and promised to return for another fun time, making you rather addicted to the feeling of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you anticipated your reward. Whether this was in the form of a beautiful nymph or innocent maiden, a hunky man that liked it rough or a young lad whose touch was soft, or perhaps the unlimited alcohol that intoxicated your mind and sometimes killed you before your time…it was all the visitors choice. Dionysus took great pleasure in watching the mere mortals crumble at his feet, and he loved it even more when he managed to break a deity beyond the point of madness.

Everyone here knew who I was. The empty jug lay next to my hand almost mockingly as my eyes bore into the table, head slightly buzzing and ears ringing from the loud music the few drunken musicians attempted to play. The harp had a beautiful sound if in the hands of someone that could yield it, but the one mortal that attempted to play it here made it sound borderline scratchy, fingers caressing the strings rather unprofessionally. Despite how crowded the fun house was, not a soul took it upon themselves to share a table with me, and I understood why. I wasn’t necessarily here for company, especially not that of a man, but it would’ve felt nice to lay my worries upon an ear willing to listen. I knew the sharp daggers secured onto the belt around my waist intimidated men, but I expected women to be more than willing to share stories with me. After all, it wasn’t a secret to anyone that I was part of the Athenai, Athena’s loyal followers, the leader of a cult that brought forth possibilities for women eager to become more than what their society instilled on them.

A rather young girl passed by the table, head hanging low as she clutched the large jug of wine to refill the thirsty men’s glasses, and I watched closely as she walked between the tables, pouring more wine for the one’s asking. She was young, too young for a place like this, but I figured her family was living scarcely and they needed every little penny they could get. Knowing the nature of the men that were so eager to frequent places as such, it came as no surprise when the young girl’s shoulder was clutched by a calloused hand, yanking her back violently. The girl’s eyes widened in panic as she looked up, clutching the jug to her chest as if afraid to spill anything. It was pure instinct by now to draw my weapons at the sight of a female getting harmed, and it came as no surprise when I felt my blood boil underneath my skin. The man that dared touch the little girl was laughing, gripping her chin and trying to force her to sit down at his table filled with six more men, all watching her with a predatory glint in their eyes. Athena has taught me her virtues, has passed her beliefs onto me, raised me as a strong and independent woman, one that would not sit idly by and watch an innocent soul get harassed, especially if so young. The cult of Athenai have sworn celibacy to Athena, and have sworn to protect maidens and women in dire danger until their last breath.

I moved stealthily, barely leaving a breeze in my wake as I stood from the table, eyes burning anyone that dared look my way, right hand gripping the handle of my most loved dagger. Hephaestus was a marvelous craftsman, every piece of armor was designed by Athena and myself, and then later on perfected and strengthened by him. I had great trust in my weapons and my abilities, having led a war by Athena’s side more than once. As I made my way towards the table full of vile men, the little girl’s body had started shaking as she struggled to fill their glasses with wine, the man that was holding her had his hand sliding down her fragile body. I tensed my muscles and willed my mind to remain focused, knowing that if I saw red right now, not even one man would leave this house in one piece. As a quiet and scared whimper left the young girl’s lips, my jaw clenched and I unsheathed my dagger, the other men sitting at the table finally noticing me as I came into their vicinity.

A wide smirk stretched onto my lips as I saw the terror in their eyes, and before they could alert their companion harassing the young girl, my dagger had long come down against the nimble skin of the man, the steel cutting through his flesh and bones, severing the hand he had on the table. The cry that left his mouth was gut-wrenching and it made everyone stop in their tracks, eyes wide as the lively music had cut off at once, the young girl jumping away with watering eyes as the man tried to stand and whirl around. But I just chuckled and grabbed his greasy hair, yanking his head back as I pressed my sharp dagger against his neck, making him suddenly become still. His chest was heaving and he had broken out into a cold sweat, whole body shaking as blood gushed out of his severed limb. I leered, leaning down close to his ear.

“You are in great luck tonight, my friend,” I hissed against his ear, his body reeking of alcohol and grime, “I cannot kill you unless you do something unforgivable, but that doesn’t mean I cannot teach you a lesson, you stupid mortal.”

The man had started sobbing, snot running down his nose and into his mouth as he tried to splutter out apologies, his companions frozen as they didn’t know whether to help him or not. I pressed my dagger just a little more against his skin, making sure to draw blood as the man cried out in agony again, making me grin widely as I released him, but not before banging his head against the table hard enough to knock him out. His companions jumped to their feet and rushed over to the passed-out man as I turned my head to search for the young girl, finding her cowering behind a woman that was silently crying. I wiped down the blood from my dagger onto the white cloth I had hidden in my pocket as I walked towards the two, motioning for the woman to step aside. She did so quickly, revealing the young girl to me. I sighed as I leaned down to be eye level with her, gently wiping her tears off her face.

“Do not cry child, you’re safe now.” I muttered to her gently, unlatching a satchel from my belt, “Take this and head to Athens tomorrow, take your family with you if needed. Pray to Athena tonight and tell her that her most trusted apprentice saved you from a vile man, ask for her blessings and protection.”

“Won’t she want something in return?” The girl’s voice was shaky as she reluctantly accepted the coins, probably the sum more than she’s ever made here at the fun house. I smiled and gave a pat to her head as I stood up straight again.

“You are a smart girl; Athena will like that.” I hummed, fixing her hair behind her head, tilting her chin up to look in her eyes, “If you wish to be strong and able to protect yourself, all you have to offer to Athena is a promise to remain a maiden, child, and she will have you. You’ll thrive under her cult and you’ll have a good life in Athens.”

Gratitude graced the young girl’s face and she bowed her head deeply, bending at her middle to go even lower, making me smile at her display of gratitude, “Thank you, my heavenly protector.”

I chuckled as I gave a last pat to the girl’s head, looking around the still deadly silent fun house. I grinned and took my leave, knowing that the mood would be ruined as I wasn’t welcomed anymore for the night. When I reached the door, I turned around and bowed mockingly before I was out of the crowded and warm house, welcoming the cool breeze of the summer night. As the door closed behind myself, the music picked back up and the chatter and shouts resumed like nothing had happened, and I took a moment to clear my mind. I headed to the corner of the house and leaned against its structure, sighing as I looked up at the stary night, wondering whether I should return to Olympus now, or head back to Athens myself. But something snapped next to me and the unmistakable aura of an Olympian God invaded my sense, forcing my body to remain alert as I gently clutched the handle of my dagger.

“No need for that, dear,” I slightly relaxed at the familiar deep voice, but failed to spot the figure in the pitch-black night, “I am not here to harm you—or any of the women you protect.”

“Then why are you here?” I snapped back, growing a little irritated that the God wasn’t showing himself to me.

“I’m here to collect a very dear soul.” The deep voice answered back, sounding amused at my irritation as the nauseating scent of tobacco filled my nose. Sometimes, I wondered whether Death was timeless, whether he could travel between times unseen and unknown to us. Even as deities, we couldn’t predict the future nor if we truly were everlasting, but there was a glint in Death’s eyes that held secrets nobody but him knew about.

“I didn’t kill the man, you don’t have to snitch on me—” His deep giggle cut me off, and there he was, finally, showing himself to me as he stepped out of the shadows. His body was clad in a midnight black suit, tailored to fit his body perfectly as if it was his second skin. He had cut his hair shorter sometime not long ago, and it stood up in a way that made him look like he didn’t belong amongst us. Hades’ sharp eyes were crinkled as he smiled widely, his front teeth crooked as the cigar hung loosely between his teeth.

“I’m not here for that man,” Hades chuckled as the cigar bobbed with every word he said, “he’s going straight to Tartarus. I’m here for someone else.”

I followed his line of sight as he gazed inside the fun house through the window, eyes settling on an old man who was smiling and chatting by the bar with a beautiful young woman, “He’s lively, but his heart has weakened. I hope he hasn’t forgotten about our little trade back when he was still youthful and handsome.”

“You love making trades.” I sighed under my breath as I watched Hades grin, then take a long drag of his strongly smelling cigar. I never dared ask where he got those from, I never saw anyone else smoking them. It felt like it was somehow beyond me and our times, like it was better if I stayed naïve. Hades was an enigma nobody could fully decipher; it was best if you didn’t ask many questions. He had a way with his words, he could easily trick you into trades and deals that were only beneficial to him. The tale of signing your soul away to him unassumingly was more common than not, and I appreciated my life, cherished it dearly even.

“That I do, indeed.” He hummed, sharp and dark eyes falling on me again. He also loved flirting with people that he wasn’t supposed to flirt with, “Still worshiping the lovely Athena?”

I snorted under my breath, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I leaned against the building again, “It’s what I was created for.”

“Ah, yes,” Hades hummed, taking a long drag of his cigar, smoke wafting up in the air around us, “my bitch of a sister sure loves sending out other people to do the dirty work for her. If only Zeus wasn’t such a man-whore—”

“You speak rather freely, Mingi.” I narrowed my eyes at the God of death, interrupting what was supposed to be his inner monologue.

“Of course, I do.” He chuckled upon hearing his real name leave my lips, throwing the cigar onto the ground as he stepped on it. I’ve seen him do that many times, yet I still haven’t figured out why he did that, “What? What are they going to do to me? Banish me? Chase me away? Kill me? Death is everlasting, my dear, just as birth is. Even when you will stop existing, I’ll be still here. I’m one with Gaea. Unlike many of our kin, I do not need to be worshipped to exist.”

That made me think, made my mind dwell on thoughts that they weren’t supposed to dwell on, “Are you saying we won’t always be here?”

“I’d love to chat more with you, my dear.” Mingi smiled mischievously, his eyes narrowing into playful slits as he stepped closer, caressing my cheek gently. He was perhaps the only man that’s ever touched me—the one I willingly allowed to touch me—his touch lacking the lust no other man could even as much so as hide, “But my old man really needs to go now, and Hera’s called for you.”

“Are you stealing Hermes’ job now?” I chuckled, patting his hand before I removed it, dusting my hands off.

“No,” Mingi chuckled, shaking his head, “I’d rather die then be the messenger of these bored deities that love beefing with each other for no reason.”

“Do you reckon why my mother is asking for me?” I raised an eyebrow as I chuckled at Mingi’s humor.

“No idea, but she looked beyond devious.” He sighed, slowly stalking towards the entrance of the fun house, Dionysus would certainly hate that there would be two deities tormenting his fun house tonight, “Perhaps has something to do with lovely Aphrodite.”

I hummed, nodding my head in goodbye as Mingi disappeared inside, leaving me alone in the darkness of the night. Well, off to Mount Olympus I was.

And Mingi was right, my mother did summon me due to something concerning Aphrodite. The palace was brightly lit despite it being after midnight by the time I made it home, and my steps were silent against the marble stones despite how lightly I walked. Athena made sure teach me that. As I had knocked on the door of my mother’s bedroom, it opened up instantly and allowed me inside. She sat on her sofa, snacking on some grapes as her two servants fanned her with big leaves, looking stoic and avoiding eye contact at all costs. My mother’s mouth pulled into a wide smile upon seeing me, her eyes a bright color and glimmering under the divine light. I fixed my posture and bowed my head in respect as I walked closer to her, the armor I wore completely the opposite of her satin indigo dress.

“Daughter,” She cooed, her voice warm and loud in the confines of her bedroom, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

That was true, indeed, she only met me when she needed something from me. I wasn’t to any use for her unless she was sending me out to kill the people she didn’t like, or have tried to bewitch her bellowed husband. I have long come to terms with the fact that Athena was more of a motherly figure than my own mother would ever be.

“Indeed, mother, how may I help you this time?” I asked emotionlessly, resting my hand on the handle of my dagger as it brought me comfort.

My mother chuckled as she raised her hand, the servants stopping their actions, “Out.”

They wasted no time in scurrying out, and I watched as they bowed deeply to my mother then to me, and fled the room at last. My mother sat up, pushing her dark brown hair behind her shoulders, her satin dress falling down on one shoulder. She was a Goddess almost as beautiful as Aphrodite, Hera could have anyone she wanted. Many worshipped her and tried to whisk her away from Zeus, but she only had eyes for that tyrant.

“Well, now that it’s just the two of us,” Hera chuckled, her expression twisting into something sly, “I’m sure you’ve heard of Aphrodite’s children, my daughter.”

“I have.” I confirmed as I raised an eyebrow at my mother. I have even met a few, but they weren’t very likeable, much like their mother.

“What about Yeosang?” My mother’s voice dripped with venom, palms curling into fists.

“Mere tales whispered by naiads is all I know of him.” I answered, gulping when my mother raised to her feet, a deity easily taller than most men. She stepped off her pedestal and slowly approached me, hand extending as she cupped my cheek. Unlike Mingi’s tender caress, hers was cold and borderline painful.

“I have a very important mission for you, my daughter.” My mother’s eyes sparkled with a vicious glint, teeth showing as she leered, “Someone had spoken ill of poor Aphrodite and she wants the man dead. But we know she never directly dirties her hands, and instead sends one of her children. Yeosang is her most prized child, my daughter, I need you to go find him, and kill him.”

I withheld the snort that threatened to bubble past my lips, impressed by my mother’s ignorance and the irony of her words. Wasn’t she sending me out to take care of her dirty business? The hatred between the two Goddesses runs deep, the two never settling their differences and finding ways to torment not just each other, but those around themselves as well. I was raised to hate Aphrodite, by my mother at least, because Athena’s teachings taught me different things. I wasn’t supposed to hate no woman, nor Goddess, but my mother couldn’t know that. I was more loyal to Athena than to her anyway.

“Is he going down to the mortals?” I questioned and pulled my head back slowly to get rid of my mother’s uncomfortable caress against my cheek. She hummed, giving me a scrutinizing look as her eyes took me in, a small grin spreading onto her lips.

“You’ve become a fine warrior, my daughter, I knew handing you over to Athena was a smart choice.” My mother sighed happily, eyes hardening at once, “You cannot fail me, my daughter, Aphrodite never lets Yeosang out of her sight, this is your one and only chance to kill him for me, do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” I bowed my head and my mother hummed, turning her back to me as she walked back towards her sofa.

“He’s in Dion, you’ll find him at the brothel in the East side of the village.” She sat back on her sofa, snapping her fingers as the doors opened instantly, the two servants rushing back inside, “And do not worry about recognizing him, you’ll know once you see him. He resembles Aphrodite a lot.”

And perhaps my mother hated that even more than the fact that Aphrodite was more beautiful than her. I didn’t worry about recognizing Yeosang, amongst mortals, an Olympian could be easily picked out in a crowd.

Life in the village compared to the life of the Olympians was rather lamentable. Few people were well-off to live in spacious mansions that resembled the homes of the Olympians, as most of these mortals lived in humble and small cottages. But no matter how poor or rich, the nightlife in Dion never lacked as inns and brothels were overfilled with rowdy and insatiable people. I had disguised myself as a maiden of the village, a simple white dress that’s seen better days replacing the armor that felt like a second skin and brought me comfort. I felt exposed as my dark hair flowed freely against my shoulders and back, making me more vulnerable as anyone could easily grab onto it. The only time I wore it like this was when I bathed, in a battle you couldn’t allow anything to distract you. The sleeves of my dress were long, covering my arms as my two daggers were strapped tightly against the inner parts of them, I would never willingly bear myself vulnerable around anyone I didn’t trust.

Since I was disguised, nobody could tell that I was Hera’s daughter and Athena’s apprentice, making men boldly approach me and try to flirt their ways into bedding me for the night. I hated every single second of it, narrowly avoiding their touches and turning down their offers in a charming manner, not wanting to anger anyone and draw attention onto myself before I was done with what I was here for. The brothel was overspilling with people at the ungodly hour of the witches, and it turned out to be a hard task to find Aphrodite’s son, Yeosang. I didn’t know who I was looking for, but I would know upon seeing him. After walking around and watching the crowd carefully, I let the people push me towards the bar as I ordered a pint of beer for myself, leaning against the surface as I surveyed the crowd once again. The music was loud and the dancing people grew in number as others disappeared upstairs, occupying the empty rooms for mere seconds of pleasure. I had just taken a sip of the rather bitter beer, when an overwhelming feeling of warmth made me look up alarmed. I narrowed my eyes as I tried to pinpoint the direction it was coming from, my blood boiling underneath my skin as a weird sense of calmness tried to push through my alert disposition. My heart was racing and my ears had started ringing at once, and I knew the few sips of beer weren’t the cause of it. I was in the presence of another divinity. And upon realizing this, through the dancing people emerged an ethereal looking man.

The seemingly white glow that no mortal seemed to notice was almost alarming, coating his skin fair and making it glow as the softest and gentlest smile settled on his blood-red lips upon noticing me. Even from a distance, his eyes were gentle and warm in color, golden swirling around his irises as he graciously walked closer, hands clasped in front of him. Somebody crashed into him, but instead of screaming and pushing them away, he continued smiling as his lips moved slowly, probably reassuring the person that it was no problem. His hair fell around his face in a light brown curtain, framing his forehead and cheekbones as his nose was petite, his jawline sharp. My grip tightened around the pint of beer, suddenly my heart racing in my chest as the warmth I have felt previously only worsened the closer the deity walked. I found myself struggling to intake air, as if the man had his grip around my throat, refusing me the air I desperately needed. His smile only widened as I felt my legs weaken, the man now standing in front of me. His scent was sweet like honey and roses, overpowering the unpleasant odor coming from the humans.

“Another deity,” His voice was deep, unlike his soft features and what you’d expect to hear from him, “it’s rare any comes down to this brothel.”

“You’re here too.” I found my voice, completely surprised by how breathy it sounded. I gulped and took a quick sip of my beer, hoping it would help fix the dryness of my throat. The deity, Yeosang, watched my action closely, chuckling lowly as his lips pursed. The longer I looked at his face, the more I understood why he was Aphrodite’s favourite child. He was beyond perfect and gracious, well-mannered, and soft spoken. Perhaps if Aphrodite didn’t exist, he’d be Aphrodite instead. But nobody, no mortal or deity, could be prettier than the Goddess of beauty herself, and I noticed with mild surprise that Yeosang had a blood-red discoloration around his left temple in the shape of an almost heart.

“Are you here to satiate your vices?” His warm eyes shifted onto the beer again, and I chuckled, looking down at it too. I had to play my part if I wanted to kill him tonight, therefore, I lied.

“Some vices you can never fully satiate.” My expression was serious as my eyes bore into Yeosang’s, “I am tired of the fakeness of the Olympians, I want to feel something real.”

Something alluring flashed inside Yeosang’s eyes as he, too, leaned against the bar, reaching out for my pint of beer, “Mortals are fun little toys—until they start playing Gods and want to replace you.”

“Good thing we are irreplaceable, then.” I grinned as Yeosang chuckled, bringing up the pint to his lips. They parted slowly, his gaze burning into mine, a heated feeling suddenly encompassing my whole being. I have never felt that before, and suddenly I was nervous. Could it be that Yeosang was manipulating me somehow? All deities had powers to a certain extent, but his and mine were limited, we weren’t any major God the mortals ardently worshipped. I tried to reassure myself that it couldn’t have been him as he slowly lowered the pint from his lips, placing it back onto the bar.

“A deity like yourself certainly cannot enjoy that vile thing?!” Yeosang sounded almost appalled as he pressed his bony fingers against his lips, making me chuckle as I pulled the pint back towards myself.

“Someone as sophisticated as yourself would enjoy wine, I suppose.” Yeosang blushed as he hid his mouth with his hand, averting his eyes down to the floor. I smirked, feeling victorious as I raised my hand for the waitress to come over. She was quick on her feet, thankfully, and I swiftly ordered a glass of wine for my prey. My plan was perfectly working out, I didn’t think it’d be so easy to lure him into my trap. Perhaps Aphrodite shouldn’t have kept her precious son so sheltered, he was too naïve for his own good, and it would bring his downfall tonight. As Yeosang shyly looked up, I fixed my expression, trying to look as inoffensive as I could.

“I have always believed there is no point in hiding who we are,” I tensed as Yeosang suddenly leaned forward, invading my personal space as the waitress delivered his glass of wine, “after all, at some point people see through your façade. It usually falls when you think others aren’t watching you, even if it’s the slightest crack, somebody will notice.”

Feeling speechless, I could only watch as Yeosang smiled shyly and took his glass of wine, murmuring a quiet thank you before he took a tentative sip of it. My heart hadn’t stopped hammering against my ribcage ever since he walked over, and I could only pray to Athena that I wouldn’t start sweating now. There was something about Yeosang’s aura that exuded calmness but alure at the same time, and I found it hard to make sense of these new emotions surfacing in my body. Everything tingled and burned, suddenly finding his proximity not close enough, needing him to push me up against a wall and devour me. If Athena were to hear these vile thoughts, she’d be just as disgusted by them as I was. I tried to gulp down the nausea rising up through my stomach, and as I opened my mouth to speak up, a man tumbled into Yeosang. His wine was almost spilled, but he saved it last minute as he helped the man stand up straight.

“Oh,” Yeosang whispered, face lighting up in recognition, “old friend! I thought I have forever lost you to the crowd!”

The man reeked of every odor one could think of, yet Yeosang went and placed his arm around his shoulder, pulling him into his side. I watched with furrowed eyebrows as the mortal hiccupped, eyes half lidded as he struggled to stand up straight. The glass of wine was abandoned as Yeosang’s full attention was on the man, and I took a deep breath as I felt my pulse quicken even more. I took a quick glance around myself to make sure nobody was watching us, and then reached inside my dress, finding the hidden vial between my breasts easily.

“You abandoned me, boy!” The man’s words were slurred as he clumsily exclaimed, and I acted in a swift moment, pouring the poison into Yeosang’s glass unnoticed. My fist curled around the vial until I crushed it into small shards, the pain never reaching my skin as it instantly turned into dust. I watched the poison quickly dissolve in Yeosang’s drink just as the deity chuckled and looked back at me. My eyebrows shot up as I quickly smiled, hoping I didn’t look suspicious.

“This old friend of mine loves dancing,” Yeosang chuckled as he maneuvered the man around so that they stood side by side facing me, “I had to abandon him for a while.”

“Yes, you did.” The man’s head fell a little forward before Yeosang steadied him, making me wonder just how strong the deity was. His muscles were lean and not bulging as most Gods liked to look like, yet it was unquestionable that he was rather strong as he held up the man twice his size.

“Old friend, tell me something.”

The old man perked up as he tried to open his eyes more, “What, boy?”

“The young lady you introduced to me earlier,” Yeosang’s smooth voice turned slightly darker, subtly sneering. My eyebrows furrowed as the soft expression swiftly slipped off his face, “what have you said to her?”

“Oh!” The drunk man exclaimed, lips pulling into a drunken smirk as he looked at me, eyes raking over my body. I wished to wipe out my daggers and gauge his eyes out, but tonight I had to behave, “That lady cannot be compared in beauty to anyone else, she’s more beautiful than Aphrodite herself.”

The air seemed to freeze around us as my breath halted. Yeosang’s smile turned cold, eyes narrowing as he hummed, his grip on the man’s shoulder visibly tightening, “Hmm, I see.”

I didn’t know what to do as Yeosang turned his head, one eyebrow raised as if in question. I cleared my throat and averted my eyes as I instead grabbed my pint and threw back the remained of my beer. Yeosang’s eyes slowly shifted onto his glass of wine and he paused, then reached out and took the glass. I watched with a hammering heart as he raised it up to his lips, then slowly tilted the glass, the wine almost touching his blood-red lips.

“Drinking in front of your elderly without offering it to them first?!” The old man coughed a little, giving Yeosang a glare as if his respect had been broken. Yeosang froze, then I watched in mild alarm as he lowered his glass, shooting the man an apologetic smile.

“Where have my manners gone?” He shook his head at himself and the man hummed. I opened my mouth to interject into their exchange, but instead felt my jaw fall open in shock as Yeosang forcefully grabbed the man’s chin and yanked it open, pushing his head back by it, pouring the wine down his throat aggressively. I gasped as I watched the man gargle and try not to choke on the poisoned wine, my palms turning into fists as my muscles tensed.

“There, you can have all the wine.” Yeosang snickered, throwing the empty glass onto the floor, it shattering loudly as he slowly turned his head, tilting it to the side. My eyes hardened in an instant as I noticed the change in his demeanor, the serene and innocent look gone from Yeosang’s face as he smirked, leaning towards me, “Those who speak my mother’s name in vain shall be punished, right, Y/N?”

There hasn’t been a time before where a man won over me. I was trained for war, I have fought battles that took the lives of hundreds of men, I have slain men who have mistreated women and yet…a pathetic son of a Goddess had me fumbling in panic as he released the old man who had started heaving for air, clutching his throat. Yeosang stepped back and watched as I caught the old man, eyes wide as the poison rather quickly brought him to his demise. I didn’t know what to do as his body started growing heavier, and when I made eye contact with Yeosang, he was already backing into the crowd with a poisonous glint in his eyes and a vicious smirk on his lips.

He had won this game.

I felt anger surge through my body, but I couldn’t act on my desires to chase after the deity and have his head. And so, I played the part of my disguise as I released the man. Then, I opened my mouth and shrieked.

The slap stung no more than a battle scar yet had to, and still, my ego was bruised beyond my body has ever been. I gritted my teeth as I refused to cower under my mother’s seething eyes. Something broke next to us and I jumped, not used to my mother’s hysterical displays. Now I understood why Zeus never tried to anger her, and yet still failed miserably each time.

“You wench,” Hera hissed, grabbing my chin and yanking my head forward, “You’re good for nothing.”

I tried not to snort as I looked down, avoiding eye contact. I have never failed before. I was more than good, but she was too blinded by her childish hatred for Aphrodite to actually notice that.

“You are a disgrace and an abomination!” My mother continued to hiss, her grip turning painful on my chin, “Look me in the eyes, you stupid wench!”

Fury licked under my skin, igniting my veins and making me tense my muscles and calm my mind as I yearned to reach for my dagger and push it through her nonexistent heart. I gulped and looked up into her eyes, remaining emotionless like Athena had trained me.

“You are not my daughter.” Hera hissed, leaning in my face, “I banish you from my home, you are never to step foot inside my temple and sanctuary. Perish from in front of my eyes before I turn you into nothing.”

She pushed me away like I have burned her, and I gulped, biting down on my tongue to keep myself calm and level-headed. I didn’t want to turn into nothing, that I knew. So, instead, I bowed my head and took off towards the door, grabbing the handle of my dagger for comfort, “And to think I nourished you and cherished you for nothing.”

My grip faltered around the handle of the door and something coiled in my chest as I took a deep breath, trying to talk myself down from what was about to come out of my mouth. I ripped the door open and chuckled, turning my head to look smugly at Hera, “Thank fuck I won’t have to see your stupid face ever again, you hysterical bitch.”

The scream Hera let out only made me laugh as I slammed the door shut behind me, fury making my body feel like it was on fire. That feeling was only ever present when I was in battle, and protecting women. I felt my whole being vibrate as I left the stupid home of Hera, steps hurried as I knew who to seek out for guidance. I will find Yeosang and I will kill him, Athena may you be my guide and protect me in my quest.

Hunting came as second nature; I could do it even with my eyes closed. The ground of the forest was solid underneath my feet and the trees tall and offering shade from the blazing sun as I swiftly advanced towards the meadow. There was nothing in this world I couldn’t track and hunt down. Man, woman, animal, deity. Athena had let me know in a whisper where Aphrodite’s pond resided, a place that only her, her nymphs, and Yeosang knew about. The deity often came here to spend the hot days of summer cooling off in the ever-clear Pond of Beauty. Aphrodite had created it herself for her offspring and those that she considered worthy of her treasure. The pond resided close by the foothill of Mount Olympus, on the territory of the Gods and Goddesses. No human could come here, unless they wished for a painful death.

My bow and arrow lay snuggly in my hands as I held onto them tightly, eyes narrowed as I listened closely to the sounds of the forest. The meadow was just one step ahead, I was hiding behind the bushes and the tall trees, eyes surveying the area before I looked out onto the meadow, the pond vast and its water glimmering under the sunlight that fell directly on it. Sweat had gathered on my brows as I took deep breaths, remaining calm as I noticed ripples on the surface of the pond, a head covered in light brown hair slowly surfacing. My heart started hammering against my ribcage as I watched the deity swim around in the pond, a serene look on his face as he seemed to be glowing in the sunlight, his light brown hair turning almost as golden as the swirls in his warm brown eyes. He floated around graciously, his milky skin translucent as it made contact with the water and the sunlight.

I tensed my muscles and drew my right arm back, aiming my arrow towards Aphrodite’s beautiful creation. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath, tuning in to the sounds of nature as I relaxed my body, preparing to release the arrow the second my eyes opened. I felt my body move slightly, align in the direction Yeosang was, and I sighed quietly, feeling the warm breeze caress my skin tenderly all of a sudden. The birds seemed to sing louder here, the grass seemed to brush up against my ankles gently, and the breeze carried a soft smell of pomegranates, honey, and roses. I gulped, feeling my lips part in another quiet sigh as suddenly my ears started buzzing, my skin jittery out of nowhere. My eyebrows slightly furrowed, feeling a little unnerved as my body grew warmer and warmer, flesh burning underneath the heavy silver armor. I gulped and willed my mind to focus, to let go of everything that served as a distraction, and opened my eyes as my fingers holding the string had started slipping, about to release the arrow aimed towards the mesmerizing deity.

But when my eyes opened, my body froze as if someone else was controlling it. Yeosang’s brown eyes shone golden as they bore into mine even at the great distance, and I felt my fingers tremble as I reluctantly lowered my weapon. I struggled to breathe as I felt my legs moved forward, guiding me towards the pond, away from the safety of the trees and the high grass. There was something very wrong as my skin burned and my heart raced, and I couldn’t stop myself from approaching Yeosang. His blood-red lips pulled into a faint smile as my hand raised to undo my bun, my dark hair falling down and fawning my back as I sighed in content. Another step towards him had me unclasping the silver armor from around my torso, my hands trembling as I couldn’t look away from Yeosang. I felt drawn in, mesmerized, and charmed. A madman would say it was witchcraft, but I couldn’t tell what was happening to me.

Yeosang’s lips parted as he whispered something I couldn’t hear just yet, and I felt my hands undo the bindings of my corset as it soon fell from around my body, leaving it bare for Yeosang’s eyes to drink in my exposed skin. I shivered and my arms got covered in goosebumps as Yeosang’s grin turned wider, beckoning me into the pond as he extended one hand. My mind was screaming at me to stop, to unsheathe my dagger from my belt and throw it at Yeosang, but instead, my body moved on its own as I undid my belt and then the bindings of my pants, stopping for a second to push down the garment after I stepped out of my boots.

Yeosang’s tongue darted out to lick at his blood-red lips, and I gasped as my feet came in contact with the cold water of the pond. I was bare in front of a man, walking towards him, offering myself up to him. What I was doing was forbidden, I would be banished and probably killed, but I couldn’t stop. No matter how much I wanted to, my body didn’t stop moving towards Yeosang. The cold water clung to my overheated skin and my heart pounded in my chest as I couldn’t feel the soil underneath my feet anymore. I was forced to swim further inside the pond. I wanted to stop, but my body wouldn’t until it reached Yeosang. My lips trembled from both fright and the cold, and the closer I got to Yeosang, the wider his grin got. He was preening at me, eyes flashing golden like his hair in the sunlight, and suddenly, I was face to face with him. I shuddered out a breath, chest contracting as I tried to yank myself far away from him, but suddenly the water felt like it had hands and had immobilized me to my spot.

“Y/N,” Yeosang’s voice carried amusement, eyes twinkling in the same manner, “it’s rude to impose on someone that’s bathing.”

I couldn’t find my voice, my throat had gone dry, my whole body was trembling. I couldn’t be seen bare by any man or deity, I had to kill Yeosang. I would be never forgiven if I didn’t, if he touched me…I would be punished for an eternity.

“Why are you here?” He raised an eyebrow, lowering himself under the water until his eyes and hair were visible only. I tried to calm my frantic heartbeat, to regulate my breathing once again.

“I’m here to kill you.” I hissed out, eyes hardening as Yeosang pushed his head above water, giggling.

“Without your armor, you’re nothing but a woman, Y/N.” My blood boiled under my skin, and I wasn’t trembling from the cold anymore, it was from anger. My jaw clenched as I glared at Yeosang, still trying to break free of this invisible spell he’s put on me.

“Is this where your mask slips and you show just how rotten you are at your core?” Yeosang’s head lulled back as he laughed, water dripping from his hair once he faced me again.

“You think I’m doing something to you,” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as his eyes darkened, just like at the brothel. He didn’t look innocent anymore, he looked menacing and dangerous, “but I am not. The pond brings out your deepest, darkest desires.”

Something coiled in my chest and I felt my cheeks heat up, mortified at what Yeosang was implying, “How dare you?! I am an Athenai, I have sworn to serve Athena. I have no such desires like the one you’re implying I have—”

I stiffened as Yeosang reached out, his warm fingertips softly touching my skin, “Then why is your skin ablaze? Why does your flesh sing to me to come closer? To feel you? To touch you? To devour you?”

I gasped as Yeosang swum uncomfortably close, palm caressing my cheek bigger than it, eyes boring into mine as I felt unraveled by the simplest touch, “Why do you want me to fill you up here until you’re a begging mess, until you have forgotten who you are?”

It felt like the sunlight was cut off and my neck was snapped into half, when, underwater, I felt nimble fingers trace the outline of lips untouched before, slipping between them and drawing out a sound that’s never left my mouth before, “Why does it throb for me?”

Yeosang’s lips brushed against my ear as I moaned loudly, head falling back when his fingers touched a spot that had the name of Gaea on my lips, praying to be forgiven for the sins I was committing, “Kill me with your bare hands, Y/N, and I shall grant you one wish.”

I whimpered as I finally felt released by the clutches of the water, hands flying out as I clung onto Yeosang’s shoulders, eyes screwing shut when the heel of his palm pressed harder against my core, massaging it in a circular motion, toes curling at the blinding feeling that had my whole body on fire like no battle could ignite it. Yeosang’s blood-red lips pressed against the vein pulsating in my neck, and I bit my bottom lip, trying to muffle the sounds I was making as he dipped his fingers lower, prodding at a hole I didn’t know existed before, “Yeosang.”

“Say my name, my goddess.” Yeosang growled against my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as I felt him grip onto my hip with his free hand, “Tell me how badly you want me dead.”

I moaned as one finger slowly slipped inside that hole, my mouth falling open in a loud gasp as I felt my muscles contracting, clenching down on his digit, “I shall skin you alive and deliver you to your mother myself.”

Yeosang moaned as his lips left my neck, eyes boring into mine as he faced me again. His hand from my hip slowly slipped down onto my thigh and he guided it around his own hip, flushing our bodies together as he moved his finger in and out, making my eyebrows furrow at the unusual pleasure that erupted in my whole body.

“If you do,” Yeosang whispered against my lips, gently biting my bottom lip, “I shall persuade Athena to forgive you for your sins.”

I gasped as the pace of his finger quickened, his thumb pressing on the bundle of nerves again, and his name echoed in the meadow as I cried it out loudly, body shaking from the overwhelming new feelings I haven’t felt before, “Oh, Yeosang.”

“I know,” He whispered, suddenly his finger gone from my throbbing core, and I whined as my eyes flew open, searching his face for an explanation. His golden eyes had glazed over and were a dark brown, his skin and hair not that bright anymore as clouds shielded the sun for us, almost as if they were shielding us from the eyes of the Gods and Goddesses themselves, “it’s overwhelming for the first time, but you’re doing so well for me, my goddess.”

He guided my other leg too around his hip, and I anchored myself against his lean body as I crossed my ankles behind his bottom. I could feel something hard and heavy press against my thigh and Yeosang smirked, pushing the hair out of my face as his lips pressed against mine featherlike, experimentally. My heart was beating fast, skin on fire as I felt the hard member line up at the entrance Yeosang’s finger had been inside previously, and I gulped, feeling fear for the first time in my life. No man, no battle, no war was scarier than the sin I was about to commit. But I wanted it. I knew now, I’ve always wanted it, I’ve just been repressing it desperately in honour of my oath.

“Yeosang, my god, take me.” It was a bare plea against his lips, and then they were devouring mine, coaxing them open as his tongue slid against mine at the same time as my hole was stretched open as the hard and heavy member seemed to split me apart at once, drawing out whimpers of pain as Yeosang’s lips tried to muffle them. I felt full, yet it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough as his hands gripped my hips bruisingly, guiding me up and down on his member as Yeosang whimpered, tongue tangled with mine as the painful sting in my core resided, but wasn’t as bad as it had been a second ago.

“Promise yourself to me and you shall live.” Yeosang’s low voice demanded as he mercilessly slammed my hips down, turning my mind into a jumbled mess as I was impaled again and again, wondering if the slice of my dagger would ever come close to this feeling.

“I am protector of maidens and women,” I groaned as a hand groped at my exposed chest, fiddling with the nipple, my nails digging into Yeosang’s back until they drew blood, “I will never promise myself to a man.”

“Then savor this feeling,” Yeosang hissed, and a yelp mixed with a loud moan left my throat as the next thrust was sharp, hitting a spot that had my hips moving more desperately on its own, trying to set a faster rhythm than the one Yeosang tried to set, “because Athena is on her way here, and when you leave this pond, you’ll be dead.”

My fingers slipped into his hair and I yanked on the wet strands, moaning as the new pace kept hitting that spot again and again, my mind wishing for nothing but to bring pain to Yeosang, “And you’ll be dying with me, my god.”

Yeosang moaned as I slammed my lips against his, painful and bruising as our teeth clanked together, noses pressing harshly against each other as I found it harder and harder to make sense of my thoughts as I had started succumbing to the pleasure completely.

Whether the promise of giving myself to Yeosang slipped past my lips or not, the clouds were witness to it, and Athena’s arrow would be the judge of it when Judgment Hour comes. Perhaps Hades would be sweet enough to let me reside in the Elysian Fields in the afterlife, “Does it feel real now?”

❱❱ Next star

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lavenderprose · 1 month

Text

"Would you love me if I was a crab?"

The responses are immediate and exactly what Ed should have expected: Stede's eyes go big, he offers a wide smile and his voice goes high and indulging as he says, "Of course! I would make a special little tank for you--"

Izzy, on his other side, rolls his eyes and says nothing at all.

There are a few crabs scuttling along this stretch of beach, washed ashore by a storm last night. They're still trying to get their bearings and make their way back to sea, presumably. Ed has counted four of them as they walk. He doesn't know if they're the kind of crabs you eat. He doesn't know if there's such a thing as crabs you can't eat.

Stede is still talking.

"Of course, we would have to make sure that the water is of the right salinity, and it might be hard to communicate, but perhaps we could invent some form of semaphore involving pincers--" Here he forms his hands into two approximations of claws and snaps his thumbs against his fingers repeatedly. "Snap snap. Something like that."

"No way to live," Izzy says then, and when Ed looks at him it seems like even he's surprised he spoke. He looks uneasy with it, like the thought had escaped rather than being released. He's been walking somewhat separate, his pace matching that of Ed and Stede but several feet further up the beach where the sand isn't so damp. Stede has had his arm looped through Ed's and they've been walking in lockstep, murmuring to each other about the lovely bright morning sun and the crisp smell of the ocean, and about Stede's newly-bought swim-cover he's wearing and about lunch. Come to think, this is the first time Ed has heard Izzy speak all morning.

"What's that, dear?" Stede asks, still distracted by his own hands. He mutters something to himself that sounds like And this could mean I'm hungry as he pokes his pinched hands towards his stomach.

"In a tank," says Izzy. His arms are folded against his body, he's turned towards Ed and Stede and the calm surf washing up the beach. The sun hits his eyes and makes them look brighter, green like seaglass. "If you were a...crab."

"Say I wanted to live in a tank?" Ed mutters, feeling weirdly defensive. "If Stede wanted to put me in a tank and keep me safe--"

"No way to live," Izzy says, shrugging. "Might be nice for a little while, but you'd get bored in a tank. You'd start trying to escape, try to wedge your pincers through the lid of--" He moves his hands for a moment, almost as though to pantomime like Stede, then scowls at himself at stops. Shrugs again. "We couldn't keep you."

"Would we know it was you?" Stede asks then, like this is crucial information. Ed doesn't know why the conversation has taken this turn, even though he was the one to ask, but he feels like his heart might break a little if they can't come to a consensus about what to do with Crab-Ed.

"Yeah," says Ed, "You'd know it was me because it would be like...a sea-witch curse or something."

"Oh! Well then we would just find a way to break the curse." Stede nods, smiling sagely and confident in his wisdom.

"You can't," Ed says, hurriedly and suddenly nervous. "It's permanent. Can't break it, I'm gonna be a crab forever."

"Would you still think like you?" Stede asks. Izzy, utterly quiet, stares towards the horizon like if he glares hard enough, the sun will descend from the sky and end the conversation.

"Yeah, yeah. Ed Teach brain, tiny crab body."

"Well that complicates it--"

"Why are we talking about this again?" Izzy mutters, still squinting towards the sun like it's personally insulted him. "If Edward were a crab, he'd have to do crab things. We'd do human things. End of."

Stede frowns. "Well the question wasn't about what we would do with our Ed-crab. It was would we love him."

Izzy snorts, and Ed feels a strange spike of dread right up until Izzy mutters, "Of course," in a way that says he thinks the answer is very obvious, and the question very redundant. When he realizes that Ed and Stede are both staring at him, he shifts his stance and cards a hand through his hair. Slowly, with obvious difficulty, he says, "I couldn't keep him in a tank. Wouldn't be fair. Of all people, I should know that." His eyes flick to Ed for a snap moment. Ed doesn't know what his face does, but whatever it is it's enough to relax the line between Izzy's eyebrows. "He'd have to go. But I'd remember him. I'd hope he was...happy. Doing crab things. I'd love him."

From somewhere next to Ed, the inelegant sound of Stede's sniffles breaks the moment they might have been about to have.

"That's such a sweet sentiment, Izzy," Stede says, wiping under an eye. "I was going to say that we could ask the sea-witch to turn us into crabs as well. That way we could all do crab things together."

"There's an idea," Ed says enthusiastically. "We could make a crab house and eat crab food and have crab se--"

"I'm not turning into a crab," Izzy says, and turns back to face the direction they'd come. "Are we done with this? I'm fucking starving."

He marches off, leaving Stede and Ed to walk in his now-determined wake. Obviously trying to escape the sentimentality of his own words. Ed exchanges a knowing, saccharine expression with Stede as they follow.

"Izzy?" Stede calls up to him, paces ahead and legs pumping. Izzy barks out a vague response. "Would you love me if I was a crab?"

Izzy stops and turns completely around. There is a smirk on his face and hidden laughter in his eyes.

"If you were a crab," Izzy says, "I would have a crab fucking boil, Stede Bonnet."

#OFMD #Edward Teach #Stede Bonnet #Izzy Hands #Steddyhands #Saw a post that said something about 'If soulmates are real then chances are your soulmate is a crab' and this burst out of me

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todays-xkcd · 10 months

Text

The mainstream dogma sparked a wave of dogmatic revisionism, and this revisionist mainstream dogmatism has now given way to a more rematic mainvisionist dogstream.

Rebuttals [Explained]

Transcript Under the Cut

[Cueball, hand raised with a finger held up, stands behind a lectern on a high podium speaking into a microphone on the lectern. Behind him is a banner, with four lines of illegible writing above a (blank) picture at the bottom.] Cueball: It's become conventional wisdom that the backlash against the prevailing consensus led researchers to ignore inconvenient new evidence. However...

[Caption below the panel:] In a field that's been around for a while, it can be hard to figure out how many levels of rebuttal deep you are.

#xkcd #xkcd 2857 #rebuttals #webcomics #academia

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mononijikayu · 4 months

Text

as the world caves in — ryomen sukuna.

In an instant, the peace you had cherished was shattered, replaced by the harsh reality of war. With a sense of dread knotting in your stomach, you looked at Sukuna who nodded back at you resolutely. Your uncle led the way, his voice ringing through the compound. There was no way back. There was only kill, or be killed.

GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Harm, Depiction of Blood and Wounds, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Pseudo-Incest, Adoptive Cousins, Portrayal of Misogynist And Degrading Acts and Language, Smut, Detailed Depiction of Sex, Depiction of Sexual Foreplay, Sexual Penetration, Consensual Sex;

masterlist

ashes of love

song: as the world caves in by sarah cothran

note: beyond what i usually write, but i ended up doing it because i dont think it would be easy to fit in the next chapter. the next chapter is already decided. so i dont think i have the heart to add another chapter. the series is already long as it is. but still, i hope you enjoy it. i hope you enjoy the ride. buckle up, the chapters change from this on to absolutely brutally painful. anyway, i love you!!!

YOU HATED BEING HERE. In the tranquil expanse of neutral territory, where the boundaries blurred between the domains of the Ryomen and Fujiwara clans, an uneasy gathering took place. Here, beneath the boughs of ancient trees and amidst the whispers of nature, the destinies of two families intertwined. Families bound by bad, spoilt blood —blood that unites in misery, meet to unite again.

Your bright colored kimono felt tighter as the air disappeared from your lungs. The weight of the fabric, usually a symbol of your clan's pride and dignity, now seemed like a constricting shroud, amplifying the suffocating tension that surrounded you. Each breath became a conscious effort, a reminder of the expectations and pressures bearing down on you from all sides.

You stood beside your father, Ryomen Isamu, his presence as imposing as the ancient trees around you. The towering oaks and cedars, with their gnarled trunks and sprawling branches, seemed to echo his steadfastness and strength.

Isamu's broad shoulders and firm stance radiated a quiet power, a testament to his unwavering commitment to honor and duty. His face, lined with the wisdom of age and experience, remained calm, though you could sense the undercurrent of resolve that lay beneath his composed exterior.

In stark contrast stood Fujiwara Ankoku, your grandfather. His cold eyes, sharp as a hawk's, pierced through the air with a severity that made the spring day feel like the dead of winter. His proud demeanor, honed by years of wielding power and influence, seemed to draw the very warmth from the surroundings, creating a palpable chill.

The lines on his face were etched deeply, not just by time but by the burdens of maintaining his family's supremacy. His robes, richly embroidered with symbols of the Fujiwara clan's authority, only amplified his intimidating presence.

The neutral ground, chosen meticulously to symbolize a chance at reconciliation, felt anything but peaceful. The tension between Isamu and Ankoku crackled like a storm ready to unleash its fury.

The air, thick with unspoken words and historical grievances, seemed almost tangible. Every rustle of leaves and every distant bird call felt amplified in the heavy silence that followed each exchange.

Your father spoke with measured calm, his voice steady and deliberate. "We seek an alliance built on mutual respect and honor, Ankoku-dono. This marriage is a chance to mend our….past wounds. We are kin, after all. We must move forward united."

Ankoku’s response was an apprehensive snicker. "Respect and honor, you say? Words often spoken too easily, Isamu-dono. It is a matter of them being upheld. What guarantees can you provide that your lineage is worthy of our name?"

Each word from your grandfather felt like a blade, slicing through the fragile hope for peace. His dismissive tone stoked the simmering anger within you. Your clansmen felt the same, you knew that too well. There was pride in all of you—the Ryomen were older, bolder, more ancient than the Fujiwara.

Even so, to say that you were unworthy of your cousin Koku was entirely foolish. The clan had wondered in hushed whispers if Koku was even worthy of you. The Fujiwara had only been in such power for such a short time, one could consider it a blink.

You felt the burning pride for your clan call to you.You and your brother were born to such a glorious name. You were both worthy. You have no need to prove it. Your blood was noble. It will always be.

"The same one which you had wrought upon me by marrying me to your daughter," your father retorted, his voice firm but edged with a restrained anger.

Hiramu’s lips trembled with laughter, but he bit his lip.Your mother’s glare bore against your father’s head and then your uncle’s. The tension in his words was palpable, a clear challenge to Ankoku's authority.

“Do you question me so, Ankoku–dono, that you forget thus?”

Ankoku's eyes narrowed, the lines on his face deepening as his expression turned icy. "My daughter brought honor and strength to your clan, Isamu-dono. It is you who must prove that your bloodline is worthy of continuing this legacy."

Isamu's jaw tightened, his composure fraying at the edges. "We have upheld our end of the alliance with dignity and strength. You see my daughter, as you have seen my son. They had grown to be the pride of our clan. It is not our lineage that is in question here, but the sincerity of your intentions, Ankoku-dono."

A cold smile curled at the corners of Ankoku's lips. "Intentions, Isamu-dono? My intentions are transparent. I seek to ensure the superiority of the Fujiwara name. That is my duty. If that means questioning the worth of those who wish to align with us, so be it."

You could feel the air grow heavier with each passing moment, the space between your father and grandfather crackling with unresolved tension. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the intensity of the confrontation.

"An alliance built on mutual respect cannot thrive under a cloud of suspicion and disdain, Ankoku–dono." your father pressed on, his voice steady but with a hint of frustration. Sukuna catches your uncle’s eye for a moment.

"Things as of late, it must be known as regretful. But we must move beyond these grievances if we are to secure a future of peace and prosperity for both our families. Have we not proven this with my own marriage?”

Ankoku's eyes flashed with a dangerous glint. "Peace and prosperity are earned, Isamu-dono, not freely given. Prove to me that my granddaughter can uphold the honor of the Fujiwara name, and perhaps then we can speak on the completion of this alliance.”

A sharp intake of breath from Sukuna caught your attention. His eyes, usually filled with warmth when meeting yours, were now cold and hard as he glared at Ankoku and then towards your cousin Koku.

The anger simmering within him mirrored your own, a shared defiance against the oppressive authority of your grandfather. Sukuna’s usually calm demeanor was replaced by a visible tension, his jaw clenched and his fists tightened at his sides.

Koku, seated beside you, seemed entirely unfazed by the turmoil around him. He sat with an air of smug confidence, his back straight and his chin lifted slightly, exuding an aura of superiority that only served to stoke the fires of resentment burning within you and Sukuna. The pride in Koku's eyes was unwavering, a clear indication that he felt secure in his position and indifferent to the suffering or discord that his family's actions caused.

As Sukuna's gaze bore into him, Koku met it with a condescending smirk, a look that spoke volumes about his sense of untouchable entitlement. He was the first born son, the symbol of Fujiwara pride, and he seemed to revel in the conflict, basking in the glow of his perceived invulnerability. And he was seeping in — destroying the peace, by forcing Fujiwara peace through a putrid marriage that should never be.

The tension was palpable, an invisible thread stretching taut between Sukuna and Koku, threatening to snap at any moment. The space between them crackled with unspoken animosities, the air thick with the weight of ancestral grudges and personal vendettas. You felt caught in the middle, the pressure of the moment making your kimono feel even tighter, your breath coming in shallow, rapid bursts.

"My daughter has proven his worth time and again, Ankoku–dono." Isamu countered, his voice rising. "It is not my daughter’s honor that is in question here, but your unwillingness to see beyond your prejudices.”

Ankoku's cold smile vanished, replaced by a stern, unyielding expression. "Choose your words carefully, Isamu-dono. This marriage is not just a union of individuals but a merging of legacies, of clans. Any misstep could bring dishonor upon us all."

Your father took a deep breath, steadying himself before responding. "We will honor this union, Ankoku-dono, but it must be based on mutual respect. If we continue down this path of mistrust and animosity, we doom ourselves to repeat the mistakes of the past."

The silence that followed was heavy, each second stretching into an eternity. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as you watched the two patriarchs lock eyes, their wills clashing like titans in a battle for the future.

Ankoku finally broke the silence, his voice cold and measured. "Very well, Isamu-dono. We will proceed with this marriage. We will keep the peace. But know this: I will be watching closely. Any sign of dishonor or weakness, and the consequences will be severe."

As Ankoku turned away, the tension in the air began to dissipate, leaving behind a sense of uneasy resolution. Your father exhaled slowly, the strain of the confrontation evident in his eyes. You exchanged a long, meaningful glance with Sukuna, your silent vows of defiance and determination reaffirmed.

Ankoku, sensing the tension still lingering, paused and turned back towards Isamu, his cold eyes narrowing. "Do not mistake this agreement for weakness, Isamu-dono. The Fujiwara name demands nothing less than absolute loyalty and unwavering strength."

Isamu met Ankoku's gaze, his voice steady but edged with a simmering intensity. "And do not mistake our willingness to unite as submission, Ankoku-dono. We are equals in this alliance, and respect must be mutual if we are to succeed."

Ankoku's lip curled in a slight sneer. "Respect is earned, Isamu-dono. Your family has much to prove."

Isamu's jaw tightened, but he remained composed. "And we will, through actions and honor, not through empty words and hollow threats."

A tense silence followed, each word hanging heavily in the air. Ankoku's gaze flicked to you and Sukuna, his eyes narrowing with suspicion and challenge. "See that you do. The future of both our clans depends on it."

Isamu nodded, his expression unyielding. "Indeed it does. Let us hope that our children can bridge the gaps that we could not."

Ankoku turned to leave once more, but this time Isamu’s own voice stopped him. "Ankoku-dono, understand this: the Ryomen clan will not tolerate disrespect. We come to this union with duty in our hearts, but we will not be subjugated."

Ankoku's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and grudging respect. "Very well, Isamu-dono. Let us see if your actions can match your words."

As Ankoku finally walked away, the atmosphere remained charged with the remnants of their confrontation. Your cousin Koku stood from his position, his movements deliberate and measured. His smug expression never wavered, and he approached you with a condescending air that made your skin crawl.

"Well, little cousin." Koku began, his voice dripping with feigned politeness, "It seems we are to be bound by fate and duty. I hope you are prepared to uphold your part. To honor our family, despite your… humble origins."

You bristled at his words, but you held your ground, meeting his gaze with defiance. "I am ready to do what is necessary for our families' future, Koku–dono. I trust you will do the same."

“Oh so formal with me. Are we not family?” Koku's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "Of course, I will. After all, it is my duty to guide and protect you, to ensure that you do not falter in your responsibilities."

His patronizing tone grated on your nerves, but you refused to let him see your frustration. "I must do well by my family. I shan’t be degrading. I am sure this must reflect that I am perfectly capable of handling my responsibilities, Koku–dono. You need not concern yourself with such acts.”

Koku chuckled, a low, mocking sound that only served to heighten your irritation. "Ah, such spirit. It will be interesting to see how long it lasts. Remember, little Hiromi, this union is as much a test for you as it is for me. Do try not to disappoint."

Before you could respond, Sukuna stepped forward, his presence a solid wall of support beside you. His voice was cold and measured as he addressed Koku. "Hiromi-sama does not need your condescension, Koku-dono. Hiromi-sama is your equal, an heir of her lord. You must respect my lady."

Koku's eyes widened slightly, the surprise quickly masked by a sneer. "Respect, Sukuna? Respect is earned. Your Hiromi-sama may have the title, but she has yet to prove she deserves the honor that comes with it."

Sukuna's expression remained steely. "Hiromi-sama's worth is not for you to judge. My lady has shown strength and grace under immense pressure. That, in itself, commands respect."

Koku stepped closer, his gaze flicking between you and Sukuna, his voice dropping to a low, mocking tone. "It seems you have quite the protector, little cousin. But remember, loyalty can be a fleeting thing, especially when tested by the harsh realities of our world. One of course, your pet will never understand.”

You could feel Sukuna's anger simmering beside you, his body tense with barely restrained fury. You placed a hand on his arm, a silent plea for calm, and stepped forward to face Koku directly. You shook your head at him and mouthed an order, telling him to move away. Sukuna glared at you, as though he wishes to resist. Your eyes glared back, hardening at his indulgence. His face contorts and bows swiftly, before he walks off.

"My loyalty to my family and to this alliance is unwavering." you said, your voice steady and clear. "And I expect the same from you, Koku-dono. Do not let your arrogance blind you to the importance of unity. That is your hubris.”

Koku's sneer faltered for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he masked it with a condescending smile. "Very well, little cousin. Let us play this game. Let us hope that your confidence is not misplaced."

He turned away, the tension in his posture revealing more than his words ever could. As he walked off, you exhaled slowly, the weight of the confrontation settling heavily on your shoulders.

At that moment, Your father Isamu had slowly come to approach you. You bowed before him, but he raised his hand, releasing you from that obligation to formality. He looks to you, before turning to order the servants away, to give you some privacy. In that moment of lonesomeness, the lord’s face withers to reveal a father’s.

Ryomen Isamu expressed a mix of pride and worry as he approached you. His gaze held a depth of concern that spoke volumes, revealing the inner turmoil he grappled with. "Daughter."

"Father." You smiled at him, but you knew, as he did, that it was never full. There was a weight to his words, a heaviness that lingered in the air between you. "I am glad to serve you and your will, father."

Isamu's expression softened, but the worry remained etched in the lines of his face. "Hiromi, you do not have to do this. I do not want you to sacrifice anything for the sake of peace."

You opened your mouth to argue, to reassure him of your commitment to the alliance, but before you could speak, Isamu's next words stopped you in your tracks.

"I know about you and Sukuna," he reveals quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "And if being with him is what makes you happy, then I will allow it. I would do anything for you to be happy, my dear. So that you may not suffer as much as me.”

Shock washed over you, mingled with a pang of guilt. You had thought your feelings for Sukuna were a secret, carefully concealed from prying eyes, but now you realized that your father had known all along. The realization was both comforting and heartbreaking, knowing that he had seen the turmoil within you and had chosen to support you nonetheless.

Tears welled in your eyes as you shook your head, your heart breaking at the thought of disappointing him. "Father, I... I cannot…" you whispered, the words catching in your throat. "As much as it pains me, I must do my duty to you, to our family, our clan. For the sake of peace. You know this.”

“Daughter—”

You feel tears prickle your eyes. “Father, please.”

Isamu's eyes glistened with unshed tears, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and sorrow. "I understand, my dear. Your sense of duty has always been your strength, and I am proud of the woman you have become."

His words wash over you like a balm, soothing the ache in your heart even as they deepen the resolve within you. You hold onto his embrace, seeking solace in the warmth of his love and understanding. It's a rare moment of vulnerability between you, a reminder of the unbreakable bond that ties you together as father and daughter.

The weight of his acceptance and support is both a comfort and a burden, knowing that he sees the sacrifices you make for the sake of peace, for the sake of your family's legacy. But in this moment, you also feel a flicker of hope, a glimmer of light in the darkness that surrounds you.

"Thank you, father," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."

Isamu pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he meets your gaze with unwavering love. "You are my daughter, Hiromi. And nothing will ever change that. No matter what challenges lie ahead, remember that I will always be here for you."

You nod, a lump forming in your throat as you try to hold back tears. "I know, father. And I will always strive to make you proud."

He enveloped you in a warm embrace, holding you close as if trying to shield you from the weight of the world. In that moment, you felt the depth of his love and sacrifice, and you vowed to do everything in your power to honor his trust and uphold the legacy of your family.

As you pulled away from the embrace, wiping away your tears, you met Isamu's gaze with a renewed sense of determination. "I will make you proud, father. I promise."

Isamu smiled, a bittersweet expression tinged with pride and love. "I know you will, my dear. And remember, no matter what challenges lie ahead, I will always be here for you."

With those words lingering in the air like a comforting embrace, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. Whatever trials awaited you on the path ahead, you knew that with your father's unwavering support and your own sense of duty guiding you, you would face them with courage and resilience.

TIME PASSED TOO QUICKLY FOR YOU TO KEEP UP. The past few weeks had been a blur of unspoken words and lingering heartache. But you could not say it out loud. You couldn’t cry out or sob about it. Not anymore. Your personal life could not get in the way, you knew that. But you couldn’t help it.

Not in the lonely nights when you long to brush your fingers against fuschia hair. Not when you long for the warmth that brings you the sun on cold nights. Not when you long for the rare smiles that truly only belong to you.

These past weeks, Sukuna and you had not exchanged a single word. When you saw him, you tried to look away. When he looks at you, he lowers his gaze. Between the two of you, the silence between you grows heavier with each passing day.

He has maintained that he is loyal to you, that he is your right hand man. That he only belongs to you. Yet, he cannot call you with all the loving names he has made for you. He cannot hold you, he cannot love you as you wanted him to. And it breaks your heart over and over.

You had tried to focus on your duties, to bury your sorrow in the preparations for your upcoming wedding to Koku, a union that you loathed. You tried to sleep it off, to bury out the sound of whispers. But nothing had settled you. Not duty, not stifling your sorrow, not resting. The weight of duty pressed down on you, stifling your spirit and filling you with a sense of despair.

Uncle Hiramu had tried to speak to you, so did father. It was easily noticeable that you were unhappy about your day to day. They worried, you knew that much. But in each conversation that comes between you, you consistently said that you were fine.

You parrotted words that expressed the same thing — you must do your duty. A Ryomen must do their duty. But you knew, they did not buy it one bit. Yet they kept their tongue tied and mouth closed.

In a desperate bid to escape the suffocating atmosphere, you saddled your horse and rode out into the countryside, the wind whipping through your loose dark hair as you sought solace in the open expanse. The rhythmic pounding of your horse's hooves against the ground provided a temporary reprieve from your thoughts, but no matter how far you rode, no matter how fast, no matter how the pressure of your horse’s weight dove against you, you couldn't outrun the pain.

Eventually, you slowed your pace, coming to a halt near a secluded grove of trees. Your kimono had all but become wrinkled, your hair tattered. You thank your horse in a small mumble, your breath echoing exhaustion. You dismounted and led your horse to a nearby stream, letting it drink as you sat on a large rock, your heart heavy with the burden of your unspoken sorrow.

Hours passed, the world around you a blur. Soon enough, your mind began to drift. Laying your head against the tree, closing your eyes from the image of the secluded grove. The stillness of the place wrapped around you, offering a brief respite from your pain. The voices around you faded into the background, replaced by a distant hum as you retreated into the sanctuary of your memories.

You saw Sukuna’s face, his eyes filled with warmth and mischief as he teased you about a particularly clumsy moment during one of your training sessions. You remembered the way he laughed, a sound that felt like sunshine breaking through the clouds, lighting up even your darkest days. There were stolen moments in the garden, where he’d lean in close, his voice a soft murmur in your ear as he shared his dreams and hopes with you.

A particular memory surfaced, one of the two of you riding through the countryside, the wind in your hair and the world spreading out before you like an endless tapestry of possibilities. You recalled how he’d reached out to steady you as your horse stumbled, the warmth of his hand a comforting anchor. In those moments, with Sukuna by your side, the future seemed bright and full of promise.

But now, those days felt like a distant dream, a cruel illusion that had slipped through your fingers. The reality of your impending marriage to Koku, a man you neither loved nor respected, loomed over you like a storm cloud, darkening every corner of your heart.

The memory of Sukuna’s smile, his touch, his laughter, was too much to bear. Desperate to escape the suffocating weight of your duties and the impending wedding, you decided to steal a few moments of freedom. You sighed, not knowing or caring what the hour was. What propriety was as you lay against the grass. You could only want, you could only dream. You could only yearn. You wanted to pretend that your world isn’t falling apart.

Moments later, the sound of approaching hooves reached your ears. You blinked, slowly returning into reality. With a heavy sigh, you sat up. You turned to see Mikoto Masaomi, your loyal guard, riding toward you. His expression was one of concern as he dismounted and approached you.

You felt like he had aged in just a small time, just looking for you. But then again, you had disappeared for so long. He got off his horse, and settled the animal beside your own. He walked towards you and bowed.

"Hiromi–sama." Masaomi said softly, his voice filled with worry. "We've been looking for you. Are you all right?"

“I’m alright.” You retorted, tight lipped. “I was just….”

Masaomi sighed, his shoulders rising and falling with the weight of his concern. “Hiromi-sama, you do not have to lie. It is alright… to be honest with me. It is just me. Your loyal friend.”

You looked at Masaomi for a moment, searching his eyes for any sign of judgment or doubt, but found only sincerity and a deep, abiding loyalty. His presence, a constant in your life, offered a rare moment of solace amid the turmoil. For a moment, your brother’s face tethered in your mind as you looked at Masaomi.

“Masaomi, I just....” you began, your voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. “I… I feel so lost. Everything is falling apart. Sukuna is gone, and I am being forced into a future I never wanted. It feels like I am being crushed under the weight of everyone's expectations, and I don’t know how much longer I can bear it.”

Masaomi nodded, his expression understanding and patient. “I know, Hiromi-sama. I see the strain this is putting on you, and it pains me to see you suffer. You have always been so strong, but even the strongest hearts can break under such pressure.”

His words struck a chord deep within you, and the tears you had been holding back spilled over. You turned away, trying to hide your vulnerability, but Masaomi gently took your hand, his touch grounding you in the present.

“It is alright to feel this way,” he continued softly. “You are not weak for wanting something different, for longing for happiness. You are human, and your feelings are valid.”

You took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling the dam within you finally begin to break. “I miss him so much, Masaomi. Sukuna… he was my anchor, my hope…..my heart. And now, without him, I feel adrift, lost in a sea of expectations and duties that I never wanted.”

Masaomi’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, a reassuring pressure that reminded you of his unwavering support. “Hiromi-sama, your happiness is important. You deserve to find joy and peace, not to be shackled by obligations that only bring you pain.”

A fresh wave of tears blurred your vision, and you looked down, the words spilling from your lips in a torrent of despair. “But how can I? I am bound by duty to my family, to this alliance. My brother’s duty is mine. I cannot abandon them. If I refuse, it could mean disaster for everyone I love. How can I be so selfish as to choose my own happiness over the well-being of my clan?”

Masaomi’s voice was gentle but firm as he responded. “Choosing your own happiness is not selfish, Hiromi-sama. It is necessary. A leader who is broken and unhappy cannot effectively lead or bring peace. Your well-being is the prosperity of your clan, of all your vassals. Of me.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty. “But what can I do, Masaomi? How can I find a path that honors both my duty and my heart?”

Masaomi’s gaze was steady, his expression filled with determination. “We will find a way, Hiromi-sama. Whatever it takes, we will forge a path that allows you to fulfill your duties without sacrificing your soul. And if that means defying tradition or challenging those who stand in our way, then so be it. As I was with your brother, Akimu–dono, I am with you. Always.”

His words lit a spark of resolve within you, a flicker of hope that had been nearly extinguished. You squeezed his hand, drawing strength from his unwavering support. “Thank you, Masaomi. You have never abandoned me. I am grateful to you. Truly.”

Masaomi smiled, a rare expression that softened his usually stern features. “You will never have to find out, Hiromi-sama. The Mikoto will always stand with you. If we must go against the Fujiwara, then we will. Until death, Hiromi-sama. We will join you.”

The sincerity in his voice, the unwavering loyalty, filled you with a newfound determination. But there was still the lingering pain of separation from Sukuna, the unresolved feelings that gnawed at your heart. Masaomi seemed to sense this, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he studied your face.

“You need to talk to Sukuna when he returns,” Masaomi said gently but firmly. “You need to tell him how you feel, Hiromi-sama. Keeping these feelings locked away will only cause more pain. He deserves to know the truth, and you deserve the chance to find peace, whether it be with him or through closure.”

The idea of facing Sukuna after all this time, of baring your soul to him, was both terrifying and exhilarating. Your heart ached at the thought, but deep down, you knew Masaomi was right. Avoiding the truth had only prolonged your suffering.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “What if… what if I’ve lost him forever?”

Masaomi shook his head, his expression resolute. “You will never know unless you speak to him. And even if his feelings have changed, at least you will have clarity. You cannot live in this state of suffering, Hiromi-sama. It is not fair to you, and it is not fair to him.”

You took a deep breath, the enormity of the decision settling over you. “When he returns… I will talk to him. I will tell him everything.”

Masaomi’s smile broadened, a rare show of genuine happiness. “That is all I ask, Hiromi-sama. Be true to yourself and to your heart. No matter the outcome, you will have the support of the Mikoto and of those who love you.”

As the last light of the setting sun bathed the grove in a golden glow, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. The path ahead was still uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, you had a clear direction. You would confront your fears, face the truth, and fight for your own happiness, whatever that might look like.

You and Masaomi mounted your horses and began the ride back to the estate, the cool evening air washing over you. As you rode, you allowed yourself to hope. To imagine a future where you could find a way to honor both your duty and your heart, where you could find peace and perhaps, even happiness.

YOU TOOK MASAOMI’S ADVICE. The days stretched into weeks since you last saw Sukuna, the silence between you growing heavier with each passing moment. The engagement to Koku felt like a noose tightening around your neck, suffocating the very essence of who you were. You missed Sukuna terribly, his absence a constant, aching void. Finally, you could bear it no longer and summoned him to your chambers.

The night air was cool as you waited in your dimly lit room, the flickering candle casting shadows on the walls. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sound of your own breathing. When Sukuna finally arrived, he entered quietly, his presence filling the space with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Hiromi-sama,” he said formally, bowing slightly as he stood before you. “You called for me. Why am I here?”

The formality in his tone cut through you like a knife, a stark reminder of the chasm that had grown between you. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. “We need to talk, Sukuna. There are things we need to say… things we need to understand.”

He nodded curtly, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Very well. Speak.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “I… I’ve missed you, Sukuna.” you began, your voice trembling. “I’ve missed us. This engagement…duty as it may be – it's tearing me apart. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel anything for you.”

A flicker of emotion crossed his face, but he quickly masked it. “You chose your duty, Hiromi-sama. You chose Koku.”

“I had no choice!” you cried, your voice breaking. “You know that…. My family, the clan… they all depend on this alliance. Peace depends on this. It’s not about what I want. It’s about what I have to do.”

“The Fujiwara care little for honor and you know this.” He hisses back at you. He shakes his head. “Do you honestly believe that they will not do some trickery, some game upon us?”

Your eyes narrow. “Sukuna, they are my kin. They shall honor–”

“Blood means little to the greedy.”

“You know I cannot….” You whisper, lowering your gaze. You knew he was right. You knew that he was honest about it. When has Fujiwara been honorable? “You are not the only one suffering this, Sukuna.”

Sukuna’s eyes flashed with anger. “And what about me? What about what we have? What we had together, our love? Does that mean nothing to you? Do I mean little to you?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. “Of course it means something! It means the world to me. You mean everything to me…..But I’m trapped, Sukuna…..I…”

He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t feel the same way? You’re not the only one suffering here, Hiromi.”

The raw emotion in his voice broke something inside you. It burns to hear only your name from his lips. Not his endearment. Not his token of love. The tears you had been holding back spilled over, and you turned away, trying to hide your vulnerability.

“I hate this.” you whispered. “I hate all of it…..I don’t want to,....I don’t want us to fight. I don’t want to do away with this. From the person I love.”

Sukuna’s expression softened suddenly. It hurts him to see you in tears. To see you in pain. He sighed. He loses to you, he always does.

He reached out, gently turning you to face him. “Night flower… look at me.”

You met his gaze, your heart breaking at the sight of his own anguish. “I don’t know what to do, Sukuna.” you confessed, your voice trembling. “I feel like I’m losing myself. I want to follow my heart but I just….”

He pulled you into his arms, his hold possessive and desperate. “You’re not alone in this, night flower. I told you, I will not abandon you.” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ll find a way against the Fujiwara. Trust me.”

You felt the heat of his body against yours, the familiar scent of him enveloping you. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet, intimate space. He tilted your chin up, his eyes searching yours.

“Night flower,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You belong with me. You know that, don’t you?”

A sob escaped your lips as you nodded, the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I know.” you whispered back. “I’ve always known.”

Sukuna’s eyes darkened with a fierce possessiveness as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing, desperate kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of frustration, and of a love that refused to be denied. Your initial resistance melted away as you clung to him, pouring all your pent-up emotion into that single, searing moment.

His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer as if trying to meld your bodies into one. The intensity of his kiss left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel his desperation, his need for you, mirrored in your own.

When he finally pulled back, his breath ragged, he rested his forehead against yours. “I can’t let you go.” he whispers to you tenderly, shutting his eyes.. “No matter what it takes, night flower. I’ll do it. Just….just stay with me.”

You nodded, the tears still streaming down your face. “I’m sorry, my love.” you agreed, your voice a whisper. “I really am.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“But I—”

He says, his eyes opening once more. “I’ll kiss you.”

You looked at him, tears spilling from your eyes. “Do it.”

“Beg for it.”

In the heat of the moment, your words dissolved into a needy moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as you surrendered to the overwhelming desire that pulsed between you. "Don't tease me." you pleaded, your voice husky with need, unable to deny the magnetic pull of his touch. “Please, my love.”

“Hm… what does this little flower want?”

“You.” You moaned, weak against his warmth. “Only you, my love.”

Sukuna’s response was immediate and primal. He growled deep in his throat, the sound reverberating through you and igniting a fierce, uncontrollable hunger. His hands gripped your hips with bruising force, pulling you flush against his hard body. The intensity of his need matched your own, a raw, animalistic force that threatened to consume you both.

With a low, guttural sound, Sukuna's lips crashed down on yours, not gentle or tender, but demanding and feral. His kiss was a storm, fierce and unrelenting, his teeth grazing your lower lip as if to mark you as his. You gasped into his mouth, the pain only heightening your desire, and he took the opportunity to delve deeper, his tongue tangling with yours in a battle for dominance.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him. His hands roamed your body with a possessive urgency, his touch setting your skin aflame. He pushed you against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his body, and you arched into him, a desperate whimper escaping your lips.

Sukuna's grip on you tightened, his nails digging into your flesh as he growled against your mouth. "You're mine, night flower." he snarled, his voice rough with possession and desire. "All mine."

The ferocity in his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you moaned, your body reacting instinctively to his dominance. You clawed at his clothed back, needing to feel him closer, to be consumed by the fire between you. Sukuna responded in kind, his mouth leaving a trail of fiery kisses down your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin, marking you as his own.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, the world narrowing to just the two of you, lost in a whirlwind of passion and need. Every touch, every kiss, was a desperate claim, a refusal to let go. The line between pleasure and pain blurred as Sukuna's teeth grazed your collarbone, your back arching in response, pressing your body harder against his.

He pushed you back against the wall with a force that left you breathless, his body pressing firmly against yours. The hard, unyielding surface behind you contrasted starkly with the searing heat of his touch, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. Your back arched instinctively, seeking more of the delicious friction he offered, as your senses were overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

His hands roamed possessively over your body, igniting flames of desire wherever they touched. The sensation of his fingers tracing the contours of your skin sent shivers down your spine, awakening a hunger you hadn't realized was lying dormant within you. With each caress, each brush of his lips against your skin, you felt yourself surrendering to the primal need that pulsed between you.

Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you pulled him closer, urging him to deepen the kiss. Sukuna's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a burning path of bites and kisses in their wake. Each touch was like fire against your skin, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body and making your head spin with dizzying delight.

With a rough, almost desperate motion, he tore at your clothes, his hands exploring your skin with a fervent need that sent shivers down your spine. Fabric tore away under his touch, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to his hungry gaze. The air crackled with anticipation as he hungrily drank in the sight of your bare skin, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that made your heart race even faster.

You tear at his clothes eagerly, happily — not caring about the cost, the damage. Such fine clothes do not need to exist. You wanted him. You wanted your lover. You did not care for much else. You wanted it off. You wanted to feel him. Skin to skin, the advent of bare worlds merging together in the flesh.

"I've waited long enough," he growled, his breath hot against your ear as he pressed his body closer to yours, his lips tantalizingly close to yours. The heat of his words sent a surge of desire coursing through you, igniting a fire that threatened to consume you both. “I can’t do it anymore.”

The raw hunger in his voice stirred something primal within you, awakening a need that mirrored his own. You found yourself responding to him with an urgency you couldn't deny, your body arching into his touch as you surrendered to the overwhelming passion that pulsed between you.

His hands moved with purpose, exploring every inch of your exposed skin with a reverence that made your breath catch in your throat. Fingers traced delicate patterns along your curves, sending electric currents dancing across your flesh and setting your nerve endings ablaze with sensation.

"I won't let anyone else have you," he vowed, his words a fierce declaration of possession as he claimed you as his own. There was a primal possessiveness in his touch, a certainty that you belonged to him and him alone, that sent a thrill of excitement racing through you. “No one, not any man. No one.”

In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the wild, untamed passion that burned between you. You surrendered yourself completely to him, giving in to the irresistible pull of desire that drew you together like moths to a flame.

As his lips crashed down on yours once more, sealing the union, that vow with a searing kiss. You knew that there was no turning back. You were his, body and soul, bound together in a love that defied reason and logic, a love that would endure for eternity.

As Sukuna's lips claimed yours in a fervent kiss, his hands continued their exploration of your exposed skin, tracing every curve and contour with an expert touch that left you trembling with anticipation. With each caress, he seemed to stoke the flames of desire within you, igniting a burning hunger that threatened to consume you entirely.

His touch was electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body and leaving you yearning for more. Fingers danced along the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing down to your collarbone before wandering lower, teasing the edges of your desire.

With a skillful motion, Sukuna's hands roamed lower still, tracing the outline of your hips before slipping beneath the fabric of your remaining clothing. His touch was bold and confident, fingers dancing lightly over the heated flesh of your thighs as he moved ever closer to the source of your need.

You gasped as his fingertips brushed against your most intimate parts, sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. Each touch was like fire against your skin, igniting a wildfire of sensation that threatened to consume you entirely.

Sukuna's touch was relentless, brutish. You feel like you would burn at each motion. His fingers expertly coaxing forth the symphony of pleasure that lay dormant within you. With each stroke, each caress, he pushed you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy, his lips claiming yours in a heated kiss that mirrored the fervor of your desire.

As the intensity of his touch reached its peak, you felt yourself teetering on the brink of release. Moan after moan, your entire being was consumed by the flames of passion that raged between you. With a final, exquisite touch, Sukuna pushes you over the edge, sending you spiraling into the depths of pleasure as you surrender yourself completely to him.

Your reaction was one of pure ecstasy, a symphony of pleasure that swept through every fiber of your being. As Sukuna's skilled hands and lips worked their magic, you felt yourself unraveling, surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation that threatened to consume you entirely.

Every touch, every caress sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as you teetered on the edge of release.

When Sukuna finally pushed you over that edge, sending you spiraling into the depths of ecstasy, it was like nothing you had ever experienced before. You felt like you were seeing the stars for the first time.

The way he made you feel, the way his fingers played through your confines made you quiver, shake over and over. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, each one more intense than the last, until you were lost in a haze of pure bliss.

As the intensity of the moment began to ebb, Sukuna's voice cut through the haze of pleasure, his tone husky with desire. "You're mine," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. He bites against your neck. “Mine, mine. Forever mine.”

You let out a soft moan of contentment, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. His possessiveness could only ever make you even more pleasured.

"’kuna," you whispered, your voice barely audible. You felt broken against him, so deliciously broken. And he loved it. “I’m…gonna…gonna…ah!”

The air crackled with raw intensity as Sukuna's gaze bore into yours, his eyes dark with desire. "Say it," he demanded, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. “Say it, night flower.”

"I'm yours," you replied, your voice filled with a mixture of passion and submission. “I’m….oh…I’m yours! Yours!”

Sukuna's grip tightened on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin with an almost painful urgency. "Louder, little one." he commanded, his voice tinged with a hint of dominance. “I don’t care if they hear us. Louder.”

"I'm yours!" you exclaimed, your voice rising with each word as you surrender yourself completely to him.

A fierce hunger burned in Sukuna's eyes as he claimed you once more, his touch rough and possessive as he took you to heights of pleasure you had never known before. Every movement was charged with an intensity that left you gasping for breath, his hands exploring every inch of your body with a relentless urgency that drove you to the brink of madness.

As the crescendo of passion reached its peak, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the moment. And then, with a cry that echoed through the room, you came undone in his arms, waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave, leaving you trembling and spent in the aftermath of your shared release.

In that moment, there was no past, no future, only the present - a fleeting instant of pure, unadulterated bliss that bound you together in a timeless embrace.

And as you basked in the afterglow of your shared passion, you knew that this was where you belonged - in the arms of the one who had awakened the deepest desires within you.

Sukuna's lips curled into a smug smirk as he watched you, his eyes alight with satisfaction at having brought you to such heights of pleasure. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, a silent testament to the intensity of the moment.

"Was that everything you hoped for?" he asked, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

You could only nod in response, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your release. Words failed you in that moment, lost in the overwhelming sensation of being utterly and completely consumed by him.

Sukuna's smirk widened as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your lips, his touch gentle now, a stark contrast to the rough intensity of moments before.

"You belong to me, night flower." he murmured against your skin, his words a promise and a vow all rolled into one. “You are mine to love, to have, to live, to breathe. To bow to. To yearn for. You are only mine.”

“Make it so.” You huff tenderly at your lover. “I am truly yours.”

As Sukuna's hands skillfully undid the fastenings of his pants, releasing his arousal, a surge of anticipation coursed through your veins like wildfire. The sight of him, his eyes ablaze with unbridled desire, set your heart thundering against your chest with an intensity that matched the rhythm of your racing breaths. In that electrifying moment, the confines of the room seemed to shrink, the air thick with the palpable tension of longing and need.

With a hunger so primal it bordered on desperation, you met his lips once more in a pulsing kiss, your bodies melding together in a fiery embrace.

The world dissolved into a blur of sensation as you drowned in the heady rush of his touch, every caress like a flame igniting your skin, sending ripples of pleasure cascading through your entire being. Each brush of his fingertips against your skin was a symphony of ecstasy, each stroke leaving you gasping for more.

Your hands moved with a frenzied urgency, exploring every inch of his body with a fevered passion. Fingers traced the contours of his form, memorizing every dip and curve as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating pull of desire.

There was no room for restraint in this tempest of passion, no need for words as your bodies spoke the language of lust and longing, entwined in a dance as old as time itself.

When you parted for air, Sukuna moved slightly and you watched as he towered before you, even in his kneeling position. His presence was overwhelming, commanding the entirety of the room. His figure exuded an aura of raw power, every sinew and muscle of his sculpted physique hinting at the strength that lay beneath.

Your eyes trailed down his form, taking in the breadth of his shoulders and the defined lines of his torso. He was a towering figure, his height accentuated by the sheer magnitude of his presence. And as your gaze lingered on the bulge straining against the fabric of his pants, you couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size of him.

He was a man of undeniable stature, you had always known so. But to see him in full, to the bareness of his person – you found that he was possessing a primal magnetism that drew you in even more with an irresistible force. And as he moved closer, the intensity of his presence seemed to envelop you, filling the air with an electric charge that sent shivers down your spine.

In that moment, you were acutely aware of just how small you felt in comparison, and yet, there was an undeniable allure to his size, a primal instinct that stirred within you at the thought of being consumed by him entirely.

And as he drew you into his embrace, you couldn't help but surrender yourself to the overwhelming sensation of being enveloped by his sheer magnitude, knowing that in his arms, you were safe and utterly, completely his.

As Sukuna stood before you, his presence looming large, you couldn't help but remark, "You're so... big."

A smirk played on his lips as he leaned in, his voice low and husky. "And you like that, don't you?" he teased, the heat of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks as you admitted, "Yes, I do."

Sukuna's smirk widened into a grin as he closed the distance between you, his arms enveloping you in a strong embrace. "Good." he murmured against your ear, his voice laced with desire. "Because I'm going to make you feel every inch of it."

As Sukuna positioned himself above you, a primal hunger burned in his eyes, mirroring the fierce desire coursing through your veins. With a rough urgency, he slid inside, the heat of your connection igniting a wildfire of sensation that threatened to consume you both. Your eyes locked in a fierce gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the raw passion that bound you together.

His thrusts were relentless, each movement driving you both closer to the edge of oblivion. With each powerful thrust, he claimed you as his own, his dominance asserting itself with every primal urge. Your body met his roughness as though a thunderous wave against a cliff. You surrendered to him, every touch igniting sparks of pleasure that sent shockwaves through your entire being.

Before you could react, Sukuna closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, his hands gripping your shoulders with a possessive strength that left no room for escape. His touch was rough, demanding, as he pinned you beneath him, a primal force of nature unleashed. In that moment, there was no denying the intensity of his desire, no escaping the magnetic pull of his dark desires.

The hard, unyielding surface undernearth burnt you as his thrusts pushed you against the tatami floor and over roughly. It was a sharp contrasted with the searing heat of his touch, heightening the sensations that coursed through your body. Your hands instinctively reached for him, fingers tangling in his hair as you returned his kiss with equal fervor.

As Sukuna positioned himself to bottom out, his eyes ablaze with hunger, he whispered huskily, "My darling wife, my little bride. My night flower.”

Your breath hitched as you met his intense gaze, feeling a surge of arousal coursing through you. "Yes, yes….y’r wi’e, ah, ah yo’r bri’e!" you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “M’ husb’d, my husba’d!”

With a primal growl, Sukuna claimed your lips in a battering kiss, his hands gripping your shoulders with possessive strength. "Good little wife." he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with desire. " I'm going to show you what it means to belong to me."

As Sukuna's desire intensified, so did his movements. With a growl of primal need, he increased the force of his thrusts, driving himself deeper into you with each powerful movement. Your body responded eagerly to his rough dominance, every thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

You gasped at the intensity of his actions, your nails digging into his back as you surrendered yourself completely, honestly, truthfully, to the raw passion of the moment. "Mo’e," you moaned, your voice thick with desire. “Faster, fast’r…oh, oh!”

Sukuna's lips curled into a feral grin as he complied with your plea, his movements becoming even rougher, more primal. Each thrust was a declaration of his dominance, a reminder of the unbridled passion that burned between you.

With each thrust, Sukuna's control slipped further, consumed by the primal urge to possess you completely. His movements were primal, bordering on savage, as he claimed you as his own with each powerful thrust. The room echoed with the sound of your moans, a symphony of pleasure that filled the air as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating rhythm of his desire.

You arched your back, meeting each of his thrusts with equal fervor, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as you sought to satisfy the insatiable hunger that burned between you. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, a whirlwind of sensation that threatened to engulf you both in its fiery embrace.

As Sukuna's primal desire surged, he growled against your ear, his voice thick with lust. "You feel so good, so tight around me," he rasped, his breath hot against your skin.

Your own voice was lost in a symphony of pleasure, your moans mingling with his as you surrendered to the primal rhythm of your bodies. "Hard’r!," you pleaded, your nails digging into his skin as you urged him on. “I’m feeling….I’m feel’ng… Please!, ‘on’t stop! ‘Kuna, ah!”

With a primal grunt, Sukuna complied, his thrusts becoming even more forceful, more desperate. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, building towards an inevitable climax that promised to consume you both in its fiery embrace.

You were certain that you could no longer think. Not about propriety, or who ever could hear. It doesn’t matter. Only he did. He was your world. And you know you were his.

As the intensity of your pleasure peaked, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. "’m cloooose…" you gasped, your voice strained with the impending release. Tears flow through your face freely. “‘Kuna, it…oh, oh!”

Sukuna's movements became even more relentless, driving you towards the brink with a primal urgency. He bites against your neck hard, causing you to mewl.

"Come for me," he growled, his voice rough with desire as he urged you on. “Come, little wife. You could do it. Give your husband one more.”

With a cry of ecstasy, you shattered into a million pieces, waves of pleasure crashing over you in an overwhelming crescendo. Your body trembled with the force of your release, every nerve ending ablaze with sensation as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure that consumed you.

But Sukuna wasn't far behind. With a feral roar, he followed you over the edge, his own release tearing through him with a savage intensity. You felt him pulse inside you, each throb of his hot release sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

As you both rode out the aftershocks of your shared climax, you collapsed into each other's arms, spent and sated. In that moment, there was no room for anything else but the raw, unbridled passion that bound you together.

As you lay entwined in the aftermath of your passionate encounter, Sukuna held you close, his breath still ragged with desire. "I never want to be separated from you." he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. “Not in this lifetime, not the next. Never.”

You melted into his embrace, overwhelmed by the intensity of his declaration. "I don't ever want to be apart from you either." you murmured, your heart swelling with love.

Sukuna's arms tightened around you possessively, as if afraid to let you slip away. "Promise me you'll stay." he pleaded, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

You looked up into his eyes, seeing the depth of his love reflected in their depths. "I promise, my love." you vowed, sealing your commitment with a lingering kiss. “Now and forever.”

IT WAS TERRIFYING TO STAND BEFORE YOUR FATHER NOW. You and Sukuna knelt side by side in the grand hall, the tension thick in the air. Before you stood your father, Lord Isamu, and his brother, Hiramu, Sukuna’s own adoptive father — your uncle. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on you, it now feels real. But you had made your decision. It was time to face the consequences of your actions.

The grand hall, with its high ceilings and ornate decorations, seemed to close in around you. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional rustle of clothing or the distant murmur of servants. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a reminder of the enormity of what you were about to confess.

Sukuna's hand in yours was a small comfort, a reminder that you were not alone in this. His presence, solid and unwavering, gave you the strength to meet the stern gazes of the men before you. Lord Isamu, your father, looked weary, the lines on his face deepening with concern. Hiramu, Sukuna's father, wore a mixture of curiosity and amusement, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.

"Father," you began, your voice trembling slightly, "we have come to confess something important."

Isamu’s eyes narrowed slightly, a subtle indication of anticipation His gaze, warm and reassuring, also held a hint of wariness as he studied you, as if trying to decipher the truth behind your words. It was a look you had seen before, often preceding moments of stern reprimand or heartfelt advice.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you like a heavy burden. Despite the urge to look away, you met his gaze head-on, determined to convey the sincerity of your words. There was no turning back now; you and Sukuna had made your decision, and you were prepared to face the consequences, whatever they may be.

"Sukuna and I... we've... we've performed all the acts of marriage," you confessed, the words spilling from your lips in a rush. Each syllable hung in the air, heavy with implication, as you awaited your father's reaction.

For a moment, there was silence—a pregnant pause that seemed to stretch on indefinitely. Isamu's expression remained inscrutable, his features a mask of carefully controlled emotion. It was as if he were weighing your words, measuring them against some unseen standard of judgment.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. "Is that so?" he said, his voice deceptively calm. There was a sharpness to his tone, a subtle undercurrent of disapproval that sent a chill down your spine. It was a tone you knew all too well—a warning that you were treading on dangerous ground.

You felt a pang of guilt at the thought that it was disappointment in his eyes. Yet, beneath the veneer of reproach, there was something else—a flicker of understanding, perhaps, or even a trace of resignation. Isamu was a man of duty, bound by the traditions and obligations of his station, but he was also a father, with all the complexities and contradictions that entailed. You were his only child left. What should he let you suffer more?

As you awaited his response, you couldn't help but wonder what thoughts were swirling in his mind. Was he disappointed in you? Angry? Or did he, in some small corner of his heart, understand the depth of your love for Sukuna, despite the circumstances?

Whatever the case, one thing was certain: the road ahead would not be easy. You had chosen to defy convention, to follow your heart in the face of overwhelming opposition. But as you looked into Isamu's eyes, you knew that you would face whatever challenges came your way, you would not forsake Sukuna. He was yours. He was your heart. He was your soul. Your husband. You would not forsake him, even if your father did.

Sukuna took your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "Ryomen Hiromi, the most noble of your blood, is my wife." he said clearly, his voice unwavering. "In every way that matters, we are husband and wife, my lord. I will not….I will not forsake my wife. Not even if you put me to death for it.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. Ryomen Isamu sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping with the weight of the revelation. He felt a headache pulse through his head. The hubris of love between the youth. He could only wonder what it was like.

"This means the marriage with Koku cannot happen." he said, his voice tinged with weariness. The strain of the past weeks was evident in his eyes, the conflict between duty and his love for you tearing at him. “After all the work we put into it….”

“Father, I know that I….that I insisted on doing my duty.” You gulped as you held tighter to Sukuna’s hand. “But I cannot forsake my heart. I love Sukuna. I do. And my heart, it is stronger than anything else. I cannot live without it. And I cannot live without Sukuna. Please, father. I shall do anything you ask of me.”

“I too will do the same.” Sukuna added hastily as he held his head high in front of your father. He looks to you for a moment, before he returns his attention to his new father-in-law. “I am devoted to your daughter. Only to Hiromi. If there must be consequences, I will bear it with my wife, as she insists. We are yours to command, my lord.”

Hiramu laughed, breaking the tension with a hearty sound. "At least the kids are honest with us now, eh, brother?," he said, clapping Sukuna on the shoulder. He turned to you with a warm smile. "Welcome to the family, daughter-in-law."

You blushed at his words, feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment. Holding Sukuna's hand tightly, you looked up at your father. You let go of your husband’s hand and slowly lowered yourself to bow towards your uncle. “Thank you, father-in-law.”

Isamu's stern expression softened slightly, and he slowly nodded. “Well, what is there for me to do, brother? We have no choice….They have consummated marriage. It is known. It is done.”

“I shall try to be worthy of your trust, father-in-law.” Sukuna too humbled himself, bowing before your father, who sighed heavily at his act.“I will not let you down.”

“You best not.” Isamu retorts back, his words stern. “My daughter risks ruin, the clan risks war. There is much that costs us. You both followed your hearts more than your brain’s logics–”

"Now calm down, brother. You act like you aren’t happy that your daughter is happy." Hiramu said, snickering.

“She is my only child left, I am happy. But as clan leader, I simply cannot—”

Hiramu waved his elder brother off. "We'll deal with it. As long as Hiromi and Sukuna are happy. I don’t think anything is to be frowned upon.”

Isamu sighed, nodding resignedly at his younger brother’s words. “Perhaps your grandfather would be satisfied with a plausible marriage peace between your future children and Koku’s own children.”

“Or if there is a war—”

“Brother, we will not seek war just because our children wed.” Isamu sighed at his younger brother, who rolled his eyes. “There is more logic to Ankoku–dono than that.”

“We shall see.” Hiramu snickers bitterly.

Tears welled in your eyes at his words, a flood of emotions overwhelming you. The fear, the uncertainty, and the relief all mingled together, leaving you momentarily speechless. Sukuna squeezed your hand, grounding you, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of your feelings.

"Thank you, father," you finally managed to say, your voice thick with emotion. "I know this isn't what we have planned, but I promise we'll make it work. We'll find a way to honor our families with the duties you endow on us now.”

Isamu nodded again, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You always were strong-willed, little one." he said softly. "I told you. I have always known you would find your own path."

Hiramu chuckled. "And it's a good path." he said, his eyes twinkling with pride. "No paths are bound, after all. The Ryomen will be stronger for this. Do not worry.”

As you knelt there, holding Sukuna's hand, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. The road ahead would be challenging, but you were not alone. With your family’s blessing, and Sukuna by your side, you were ready to face whatever came next. Nothing is hard now.

YOU ENJOYED THE PEACE IN SUKUNA’S ARMS. In the serene embrace of marital bliss, the world outside seemed to fade away as you and Sukuna basked in the warmth of each other's love. With every tender caress and whispered endearment, you found solace in the sanctuary of each other's arms.

Your father and uncle's decision to delay the announcement of your marriage felt like a reprieve, a precious respite from the tumultuous currents of politics and conflict that swirled around you. In these quiet moments, you reveled in the simple joys of the companionship of your husband. In these slowly drifting days of joy, you happily yearned for finding refuge from the storm that raged beyond the confines of your shared quarters.

The prospect of a public declaration of your union loomed on the horizon, promising both joy and uncertainty. You do not know how the whole world will react. But for now, you were content to linger in this private cocoon of happiness, savoring each stolen moment together.

The world does not sleep in your bed. Your husband does. And you wanted to indulge into the privacy of your world as much as you could. You wanted to belong to each other before you did the world.

Wrapped in the soft glow of candlelight, you and Sukuna exchanged tender glances and gentle smiles, your hearts overflowing with love and gratitude. In each other's presence, you found strength and reassurance, a beacon of hope in a world fraught with uncertainty.

As you lay intertwined in a tangle of limbs and whispers, the outside world faded into obscurity, its worries and conflicts distant echoes in the hush of the night. Here, in the sacred space of your love, you found sanctuary from the chaos that threatened to engulf the world outside. And for a fleeting moment, all was right in the world.

As the moon cast its gentle glow upon the room, you lay beside Sukuna, his warmth a comforting presence beside you. Thoughts of the future danced through your minds, visions of a family together, of laughter and love filling the halls of your home.

As Sukuna's whispered desire lingered in the air, his voice carrying the weight of his affection and longing, you felt a blush tinge your cheeks, a telltale sign of the emotions stirring within you.

His words, filled with warmth and tenderness, ignited a spark of joy in your heart, the prospect of sharing in the joys of parenthood with him filling you with a sense of profound happiness.

“I should like a daughter.” He whispers to you in the dawn of moonlight, kissing your cheeks tenderly. “One that looks like you. With all your warmth and your beauty. I should be satisfied with spoiling a tender girl from you.”

"I would be happy with that." you confessed, your voice soft and filled with love, your heart overflowing with adoration for the man beside you. The thought of bringing a daughter into the world, a precious soul to cherish and nurture, filled you with a sense of purpose and fulfillment. “But I want her to look like you too.”

“We can have a few.”

You pouted at him. “But that shall take effort.”

He laughs, pinching your cheeks. “Who says I shan’t have the effort to make it possible?”

“Oh, you are so happy to enjoy being in bed with me so well.”

Your husband nudges his head against your head. “Is it too bad for a happy husband to indulge in his little wife?”

“No,” You can only sigh with that, letting him hold you closer. “I shall indulge my husband as he pleases.”

Sukuna had a small playful glint danced in his eyes, his smirk betraying a mischievousness that never failed to elicit a chuckle from you. “Then my little wife shall be spoiled as can be by my affections.”

“Hm…I shall let you do so.”

“Oh, you must or I shall be forceful with it.” He presses kisses across your neck, inciting giggles out of you.

"But I should like a son. One that takes after you," you admitted to him, your voice laced with affectionate teasing, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. “With your sharp eyes and your impatience. Your cheeky nature. I shall like that so much.”

Sukuna's smirk widened into a playful grin as his fingers brushed against your loose locks, his touch sending a shiver of delight coursing through you. "You desire such a boy swaddling against your chest the way I do?" he teased, his voice tinged with amusement. “Oh, you shall like that won’t you?”

You couldn't help but laugh at his jest, swatting his hand playfully as a blush colored your cheeks. "Oh, you are insufferable, my love." you chided, though the fondness in your voice betrayed your true feelings. “All too much.”

In moments like these, surrounded by Sukuna's playful banter and affectionate teasing, you found yourself falling even deeper in love with the man who held your heart. The thought of starting a family together filled you with a sense of purpose, a shared dream that bound you together even more tightly.

Sukuna's playful smirk softened into a tender smile as he gazed at you, his eyes alight with affection. "Only because I love you, little wife." he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. “My only night flower.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, the warmth of his love enveloping you like a gentle embrace. Despite the teasing banter, there was an undeniable depth to Sukuna's affection, a steadfast devotion that anchored you to him in a bond that transcended words.

"I love you too," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of Sukuna's embrace and the soft glow of the moonlight, you felt a sense of completeness wash over you, as if all the pieces of your soul had finally found their rightful place. “More than you know.”

As the night wore on, you both drifted into a peaceful slumber, the rhythm of each other's breathing a comforting lullaby. In each other's arms, you found safety and serenity, the worries of the world fading into insignificance.

But the tranquility was short-lived. Abruptly, you were jolted awake by urgent shouts and the clamor of weapons clashing. Your uncle's voice pierced through the darkness, his words heavy with urgency.

“Rouse from your bed, make haste!”

“What has happened?” You pondered as you scrambled to your feet, with your husband’s help.

"The Fujiwara are attacking." he exclaimed clearly, with no hesitation.

Sukuna mumbles. "They never intended to keep the peace. They intended a distraction.”

Hiramu shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter now. There’s a lot to be done.”

“What must we do, uncle?” You whispered to him, your brows furrowing.

“Kill.” Hiramu uttered with tension. “In the way a Ryomen knows how.“

THERE WAS NO TIME TO WORRY ABOUT YOUR PROPRIETY. Emerging from the confines of your residence, still clad in the elegant folds of your inside kimono, you stepped outside hand in hand with your husband, Sukuna. The air crackled with tension, and the acrid scent of battle hung heavy in the air, mingling with the subtle fragrance of cherry blossoms that drifted on the breeze.

As chaos erupted outside, the once serene courtyard transformed into a battleground, the urgent clangor of battle reverberating through the air like a thunderous symphony. The sounds of metal meeting metal, of shouted commands and desperate pleas, filled the space around you, drowning out all other noise.

With a sense of grim determination, you and Sukuna rushed forward alongside your uncle, your footsteps quick and purposeful. The courtyard was a hive of activity, clan members standing shoulder to shoulder, their faces set in expressions of fierce resolve as they channeled their cursed energy to create a protective dome shield against the relentless onslaught of the Fujiwara attacks.

Amidst the chaos, voices rose in a cacophony of sound, some screaming encouragement and rallying cries, while others spat curses and insults at their adversaries. The air crackled with a palpable tension, each member of the clan fully immersed in the gravity of the situation, their commitment to defending their home and their loved ones unwavering.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as you took in the scene before you, the tableau of bravery and sacrifice etched into the very fabric of your being. With every beat of your heart, you felt the weight of responsibility pressing down upon you, urging you to stand tall and fight for what you believed in.

With Sukuna's hand clasped tightly in yours, you steeled yourself for the battle ahead, drawing strength from the unwavering support of your loved ones. Together, you would face whatever challenges lay ahead, united in your determination to protect everything you held dear.

With determination etched into your features, you turned to Sukuna, your eyes meeting him with unwavering resolve. "I'll go and release cursed energy to reinforce the shield," you declared, your voice firm despite the tremor of fear that lingered in the depths of your being.

“You go with uncle Hiramu. There’s so many sectors of the manor that remain unshielded. They need you more than I do right now.”

Sukuna's gaze softened with concern, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "And I'll go and fight in areas the shield can't reach," he vowed, his voice resolute as he met your eyes with unwavering determination. “Be safe, wife.”

You nodded in silent agreement, a silent understanding passing between you as you shared a brief, tender kiss. In that fleeting moment, you conveyed a wealth of unspoken promises and emotions, a silent vow to stand together against the tide of adversity.

With one final, lingering glance, you and Sukuna parted ways, the weight of the impending battle heavy on your shoulders. Each determined to do your part in the raging conflict that threatened to consume your home, you rushed towards your respective duties, the urgency of the moment propelling you forward.

As you sprinted towards your kin, your body thrummed with an electrifying surge of cursed energy, its power coursing through your veins like a raging torrent. Every step forward was fueled by a fierce determination to protect those you loved, to stand firm against the tide of adversity that threatened to overwhelm you.

Your kin turned to you, their eyes alight with a mixture of hope and desperation as you approached, the aura of your cursed energy pulsating around you like a halo of light. With a determined focus, you joined your palms together, the air crackling with anticipation as the energy around you intensified, thickening against the encroaching darkness.

As you unleashed the full force of your cursed energy, a blinding white light erupted from your palms, enveloping those around you in a protective barrier of pulsating energy.

With each passing moment, the barrier expanded, its formidable strength pushing back against the relentless onslaught of the Fujiwara attacks, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos that raged around you.

“Be careful, Hiromi–sama!” One of your kinsfolk says to you, his strained voice echoing across the courtyard to you.

"I will," you called back, your voice firm with resolve. With a final wave, you turned back to face the fray, your focus fully on the task at hand.

As you continued to channel your cursed energy, the strain of maintaining the protective barrier began to take its toll on your body. Beads of sweat formed on your brow as you poured every ounce of your strength into the effort, the weight of responsibility pressing down upon you like a heavy burden. You knew this cannot be kept up for too long.

You can give as much as your cursed energy as much as you can, but the other kinsfolk would not last. If you don’t have them, the barriers would fall.

As the chaos of battle unfolded around you, your voice rang out with commanding authority, cutting through the clamor like a clarion call. With a fierce determination burning in your eyes, you singled out one of the guards amidst the fray, his sword gripped tightly in his hand.

"You!" you shouted, your voice echoing across the courtyard with a commanding force. "Rally all the women and children towards the tunnels. Alert an evacuation now!"

The urgency in your tone left no room for hesitation as you issued your orders, your gaze unwavering as you met the guard's eyes. Every word was imbued with a sense of purpose, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation at hand.

Around you, the chaos of battle continued to rage, but amidst the turmoil, your voice served as a beacon of clarity and direction. With swift efficiency, the guard nodded in acknowledgment of your command, his movements quick and decisive as he set about carrying out your orders.

As you turned back, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination, a scene of horror unfolded before your eyes. One by one, your kinsfolk fell to the merciless onslaught, their cries of pain and desperation echoing in the air like a haunting melody of despair.

Shock and disbelief washed over you as you watched in horror, your gaze fixed on the figure responsible for the carnage. It was your own mother, Akiko, her features twisted with a madness that chilled you to the bone.

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend the betrayal unfolding before you, the realization of her treachery cutting deep like a dagger to the heart.

The protective barrier you had worked so tirelessly to maintain began to falter, the cursed energy of the Fujiwara merging and multiplying with each passing moment. As the shield came crashing down, a sense of dread settled over you like a suffocating blanket, the full weight of the impending doom bearing down upon you like a relentless storm.

In the chaos and confusion that ensued, you found yourself paralyzed with shock, your mind reeling as you tried to make sense of the nightmare unfolding before you. The once tranquil grounds of Ryomen Manor were now engulfed in a maelstrom of violence and destruction, the air thick with the stench of death and decay.

With a heavy heart, you realized that the battle was lost before it had even begun. As the cursed energy of the Fujiwara swept over the manor like a tidal wave of darkness, you knew that there was little hope of survival in the face of such overwhelming odds.

You stumbled backward, disbelief etched on your face as you locked eyes with your mother, Fujiwara Akiko, amidst the chaos. "You…... how could you?" Your voice quivered with a mixture of hurt and betrayal, unable to comprehend the depths of her actions.

Akiko's gaze bore into yours, devoid of any remorse or empathy, her expression twisted into a cruel sneer. "Oh little foolish girl." she hissed, her voice dripping with malice. "You were always too weak, too sentimental. You have no place in the new order I am creating."

Tears welled in your eyes as her words cut through you like a knife, the realization of her betrayal striking you like a physical blow.

"But... why?" you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper.

A bitter laugh escaped Akiko's lips, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Why, you ask? Because power is all that matters, my dear. And I will stop at nothing to seize it, even if it means sacrificing everything I once held dear."

As the shock of betrayal rooted you to the spot, you watched in horror as your mother, consumed by madness and darkness, charged towards you with lethal intent. The air crackled with tension, each heartbeat echoing in your ears like a drumbeat of impending doom.

Just as despair threatened to consume you, a sudden rush of movement caught your attention. With a sense of surreal relief, you saw Sukuna appear beside you, his presence a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. Without hesitation, he unleashed his devastating technique, Cleave, with a swift and powerful strike aimed at your mother.

Time seemed to slow as the force of Sukuna's attack collided with your mother, the impact sending shockwaves rippling through the air. You watched in awe as the sheer power of the technique tore through the darkness that had consumed her, dispersing it like a veil lifted by the wind.

As your mother staggered back, her form wavering and flickering like a candle flame on the verge of extinguishment, he sent another wave of Cleave towards her. Finally, she fell dead. She was a traitor. And he would not forgive her.

You stare at the lifeless corpse of your mother, your pupils shaking. Sukuna rushed to you and held you. You looked at him, in a state of delirium as everything burned around you in intense flame.

“S-she…”

“It’s okay.”

“Where’s father?” You asked him frantically, “Uncle Hiramu?”

“They’re on their way here, night flower. Do not worry.” He whispers to you. “They are keeping the Fujiwara at bay, so the others may leave.”

“Then….”

“We must fight here.”

As the once tranquil grounds of Ryomen Manor erupted into chaos, the air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and the sounds of battle. The double heron banner of the Ryomen clan, a symbol of pride and honor, burned amidst the turmoil, its flames a grim reminder of the devastation that had befallen the once-proud estate.

You and Sukuna stood side by side, your backs against each other as you faced wave after wave of attackers. With each strike of your enemies, your resolve only grew stronger, fueled by a fierce determination to defend your home and protect your loved ones.

As the battle raged on, the air thick with the stench of smoke and the cries of the wounded, you stood amidst the chaos, a beacon of power amidst the turmoil. With a fierce determination burning in your eyes, you reached out with your mind, tapping into the primal forces of nature at your command.

Eyes turning purple, your gaze turns narrow.

Hunger. Anger. Bitterness. Cruelty. Hatred.

You do not know what you were right at that moment.

But one by one, you longed for more bloody hands.

More and more until nothing was left, until nothing was there.

With a forceful command, you summoned torrents of water from nearby sources, the liquid crashing down upon the raging inferno with a deafening roar. The flames hissed and sputtered as they were doused by the relentless onslaught, steam rising into the air as the inferno was quenched.

But your control over the water was not gentle; it was a violent deluge, tearing through the flames with a ferocity that left nothing but charred remains in its wake.

Meanwhile, gusts of wind whipped through the battlefield at your command, their force amplified to hurricane-like proportions. The wind howled and shrieked as it tore through the air, sending debris and bodies hurtling through the air like ragdolls.

Your enemies were caught off guard, their movements hampered by the violent gusts that buffeted them from all sides. Limbs were torn asunder, screams of agony drowned out by the relentless roar of the wind.

The scene was gruesome, a tableau of chaos and destruction wrought by the sheer power of your manipulation. The ground beneath your feet trembled with the force of the elements, the air thick with the taste of blood and the metallic tang of fear. But amidst the carnage, you stood resolute, a force of nature in your own right, your power unchecked and untamed.

As the battle raged on, you continued to wield the elements with ruthless efficiency, your every movement a testament to the raw power at your command.

With each torrent of water and gust of wind, you pushed back against the encroaching darkness, fighting tooth and nail to defend Ryomen Manor from its relentless onslaught.

Beside you, Sukuna became a whirlwind of destruction, his every movement a lethal dance amidst the chaos of battle. With Cleave, he unleashed devastation upon the enemy ranks, each slash a precise and calculated strike that cut through flesh and bone with merciless efficiency.

The air around him seemed to crackle with the energy of his fury, his movements fluid and deadly as he carved a path of destruction through the opposing forces.

With each swing of Cleave, Sukuna left a trail of carnage in his wake, mutilated bodies falling in his shadow as he moved with unparalleled precision and ferocity. His attacks were swift and relentless, each strike finding its mark with deadly accuracy.

It was as if he was a mad man as he clubbed one man after another — as he brutalized one after another. He drowned in blood, he drowned in vengeance. He was a beast.

As the battle raged on, hand-to-hand combat merged seamlessly with the elemental onslaught, the clash of cursed energy bursts through each and every stone.

The roar of brutality, the cannibalistic nature of survival danced in vicious harmony, in a cacophony of chaos and destruction. Amidst the din of battle, Sukuna's presence was a constant, a beacon of strength and determination amidst the turmoil.

Together, you and Sukuna fought as one, your movements synchronized as you danced upon the battlefield. With each strike and each spell, you pushed back against the encroaching darkness, your combined efforts a force to be reckoned with amidst the chaos of war.

As the chaos of battle raged around you, your uncle Hiramu finally arrived, bloodied and broken, a grim expression etched upon his weary face. He threw his broken sword, grunting as he picked up another one from a mutilated corpse. From the way he looked, it did not seem promising. The whole world had turned into madness.

“You brats shouldn’t be here anymore!” Your uncle says with a voice hoarse with exhaustion. “Everyone else has fled! You both need to go, now!”

But you objected, your resolve unwavering even in the face of adversity. "A Ryomen stands his ground, no matter what, uncle." you insisted, your voice ringing with determination. “Hida cannot fall. Not in our hands.”

Hiramu's gaze softened, a mixture of pride and sadness in his eyes as he regarded you. "And what is there left to stand for if a Ryomen is dead?" he countered, his voice tinged with resignation. "Sometimes, little girl, survival is the only victory worth fighting for."

Turning to Sukuna with eyes full of emotion. “Be a good son for once, hm? Your old father here needs you to do as he asks.” Sukuna's expression wavered, torn between loyalty to his adoptive father and his desire to protect you. “Go. Now."

“Uncle—”

After a moment of internal struggle, Sukuna took your hand, his decision made. You looked at him, your face shattered into grief at what he intended to do.

With a heavy heart, he looked to his adoptive father “Don’t you die yet, you old geezer. I swear, if you die—”

Hiramu snickered at Sukuna's words, a bitter smile playing upon his lips. “Have trust in your father, brat. I’ll live to see my first grandchild!" he admitted, his tone laced with grim determination. He smacks his son’s head. "But for now, escape. Go! Take her! I’ll hold them off!”

As you scream for Sukuna to put you down. Over and over as you fight against him, as your throat grows weary and pained, he will not relent. Not as the sounds of battle continued to echo behind you, a cacophony of clashing steel and crackling magic filling the air. With each step, the weight of your uncle's sacrifice hung heavy upon your heart as you screamed for him.

You caught a glimpse of Ryomen Hiramu, standing tall amidst the chaos once more. He grins at you, waving his sword. Tears fell as easily as his enemies did. His sword was all you could see through the flames, flashing in the dim light against the belly of a Fujiwara one after another. But as one fell, another came and they surrounded your uncle soon enough. Until it was all disappearing, until he was gone from your reach. Until there was nothing.

With a heavy heart, you tore your gaze away from the battlefield, focusing instead on the path ahead. Beside you, Sukuna remained silent, his hand tight around yours as you navigated the maze-like corridors of Ryomen Manor.

You thought of your father, you wondered where he was. You wondered about Masaomi, who had gone missing as the attack went through the compound. You could not fight back the tears as they came. Not even if you wanted to.

The air around you crackled with tension as you pressed forward, each step bringing you closer to safety and yet further from the home you had always known.

Though the way ahead was uncertain, you clung to the hope that your uncle Hiramu's sacrifice had bought you—the chance to live to fight another day. Even if you didn’t want to. Even if you didn’t think to.

As you and Sukuna finally emerged from the chaos of battle, the cool night air washed over you like a balm, a stark contrast to the heat and violence you had left behind. With one last glance back at the manor, now engulfed in flames and shadows, you and Sukuna turned away, leaving behind the echoes of a life once lived as you set out on a new path, together.

It was then from the bitter dusk did the first drops of rain begin to fall. From afar, it had cast a somber veil over the charred remnants of Ryomen Manor. The cool droplets mingled with the tears that streamed down your cheeks, their gentle patter against the scorched earth a mournful lament for all that had been lost.

Sukuna knelt beside you, his expression one of uncertainty and helplessness as he watched you wrap your weary arms around your shaking legs. He didn't know what to say, nor did he know how to dry your tears. All he could do was offer his silent presence, a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions that threatened to engulf you both.

The rain continued to pour, harsher and harsher — a relentless downpour that mirrored the torrent of grief and sorrow that threatened to consume you. With each passing moment, Sukuna felt the weight of your pain pressing down upon him, a burden he couldn't bear but refused to abandon.

In that eve of the year 953, in Hida Province,

The proud Ryomen Clan of old, ancient blood;

Had all but fallen to the hands of Fujiwara's cruelty.

Of the Ryomen’s main bloodline remained two.

Husband and wife, Ryomen Hiromi and Sukuna.

facts about this chapter

this was entirely a chapter i saw from the beginning happening. the destruction of the ryomen is something i believe is the reason sukuna is the only ryomen we know.

this chapter took me the longest to write than any other of the series thus far. this was also the most emotionally taxing to write. so i had to come back and write some fluff and then drink matcha to calm down.

hiromi and sukuna's marriage was a last minute addition after my beta reading friend suggested that the idea of their marriage have consequence. but since it was never announce, only the ryomen know.

the fujiwara planned that they were going to destroy the ryomen the moment sukuna defeated koku. they think that koku being humiliated was the whole clan being humiliated. moreover, there's bitterness with the 'lowly' marriage of fujiwara akiko. this was a correction to the fujiwara.

masaomi is just the same age as koku, akimu and suzaku. masaomi was akimu's childhood playmate. and by extention, hiromi's own playmate. upon the death of akimu, hiromi became the focus his loyalty. hiromi considers him a friend.

heian culture doesn't really have a strict conduct of marriage, except in the in the nature of the noble's blood. if the marriage was ever announced, people would view hiromi to have married down even if sukuna took the ryomen name. because hiromi has noble blood and sukuna does not.

isamu and hiramu already knew that hiromi and sukuna would end up getting together because they knew too well that they were too in love to let go of each other. they already had contingency plans, if that happened. they knew that the kids being happy mattered more.

akiko is obsessed with power. and it was her end. i always wondered what i could do with her and her wanting. but its quite easy to see too that she's a victim of her family's own culture. if she had broken free from that, she would have ended up not dying.

hiromi's power introduced here is called 'heaven's bounty' which allows hiromi control of the surrounding and nature itself for a limited amount of time. she combines this with hand to hand because she doesn't know how long her cursed energy could last.

hiramu doesn't have that strong of a cursed energy, but he makes up for it with his strength. which has been noted since 'the night we met' when they first met sukuna.

fujiwara ankoku in a way is inspired by zenin naobito but worse. he'd commit to the destruction of his own family. blood and innocents to have satisfaction and revenge. i think he'd get even worse with time passing by.

with ryomen manor burned to the ground, the whole of hida is under occupation by the fujiwara. hiromi and sukuna are wanted alive by the fujiwara, the rest of the ryomen and their retainers have bounty in their heads, but to death

the ryomen family tree looks like this

lord ryomen - his wife

isamu hiramu

m. | (adoptive)

akiko sukuna

akimu hiromi

the fujiwara family goes like this

fujiwara ankoku - his wife

lord fujiwara akiko

| |

koku akimu hiromi (married) sukuna

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conjuredsun · 1 year

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The Witch Father

In traditional witchcraft, we often come across mentions of the enigmatic Witch Father. His Folklore is scattered, and there is little consensus to who He is. The mythology of Witch Father folklore is spread across centuries, hidden in tales of the Devil and in the transcripts from witch trials. He is a multifaceted being who rules over life, death, initiations, knowledge, and the untamed wilderness lurking at the edges of society.

The Witch Father is an archetypal Divine Masculine Spirit that illuminates life and is a lord of death. Witch Father is a catchall title for the myriad spirits witches have historically contracted with and have since been omitted by the witch trial transcripts across Europe.

He is most commonly known as the Devil in today’s craft. As we know him, The Witch Father is an initiator and holds the keys to our disinhibition towards pleasure. He opens the way to occult knowledge and gives us the opportunity to explore (legal) pleasures without the need for guild or shame. Walking with the Witch Father allows us to dive into the hidden realms and learn the Occult Arts to change our lives. He also allows us to revel in primal human desires.

As the Initiator into Witchcraft, the Witch Father takes on the mantle of the Light Betwixt the Horns. He comes into our lives and offers us the choice to go down this path and walk with Him. He grants us an understanding of magick, nature, and pleasure. He empowers us to uncover our Truth and the Truth of the World. As the initiator, some see the Witch Father as Lucifer. He is also the Serpent who revealed to Eve that the fruit from the Tree of Life will not cause her to die but will grant the wisdom of the universe.

The Witch Father allows space for us to free ourselves from the inhibitions placed on us by general society, and especially the church. He encourages us to rebel, sing, dance, and uncover wisdom. He leads the Witch’s Sabbath, which grants us a place to revel in the freedoms offered there. By leading us to this sacred experience, He fills his role as an emanation of the untamed wilderness, the primal subconscious of our most human desires. He gives us the Church of Nature. Taking the liturgical prayers of the Church and the Book of Psalms, mixing that with more ancient pagan animism, we are given access to a hidden power through His teachings.

Now, while I talk as if the Witch Father is a God, he is not. He is an ancient and powerful spirit who has led witches over the centuries and demands reverence. He is not all-powerful and is not a creator. He works his charms through magic and shapes the world. He is not a distant, impersonal being. He is immediate to us and is a mentor for us.

Disinhibition

At the Witch’s Sabbat, our spirits fly away to commune with Our Devil, other witches and spirits in His retinue. It was a place to mix business and pleasure. At the Sabbat, witches would learn new spells, come together to work rituals, learn new forms of magick from the Witch Father, and of course partake in enjoyment.

The Sabbath is a place of Initiation for new witches and also a place for learning new aspects of the craft. Once the business concludes, the Sabbat becomes a celebration. We may forget the staunch rules of mundane society and revel in our animalistic and beastial joys. There is singing, dancing, food and drink. We can indulge in these desires and these delicacies. All of which is orchestrated and gifted to us by the Witch Father.

The Wild

There is a deep connection between the Witch Father and Nature. They are ‌synonymous with each other. He is an emanation of the land and its spirits. As Christianity became the dominant religion, and as society shifted further away from living in harmony with Nature, the figure of the folkloric Devil grew. He calls to us to return to the untamed lands and to forget the society that weighs us down. He offers liberation instead of our oppression.

The Witch Father, as Nature, holds a duality over life and death. He is life itself and the bringer of light. But he is also the Lord of Death and of shadows. As the year turns, we see both aspects and the cyclical nature of them. Death giving way to new life and of life giving way to death. He is destruction and creation. Death and resurrection.

Even His iconography and the existing descriptions that we have of the Devil show the immense connection He has to the Land. He is a shapeshifter comfortable in being a recognizable animal, a humanoid form, or even a hybrid. He reminds us of our baser instincts and that we are not above animals or the land just because we, as humans, have subjugated them for centuries.

He is the Horned one, the light betwixt the horns, Terra Pater, Primus Magus. And he has revealed himself to us in so many other forms throughout the centuries. It’s hard to pigeonhole the Witch Father as any one being, or to even say “this is what he looks like.” He’s shown us he is comfortable changing his shape on a whim. He takes on the mantles of mentor, guide, and is a safe space for us to let our guard down and find enjoyment outside of our mundane lives.

Old Scratch

Old Scratch is a more antiquated term for The Devil or Satan primarily found in the Southern United States and the South Midlands. This name has been memorialized in Faustian Folklore such as “The Devil and Tom Walker” and “The Devil and Daniel Webster” where our protagonist sells his soul to the devil for prosperity.

This reinforces the theme that our Witch Father, the Folkloric Devil, offers us a chance to change our luck and our lives. Now, in these stories, the protagonist is taken away and dragged into the fires of hell, but in the living practice of Traditional Witchcraft, it doesn’t happen that way. We see these stories as what happens when trying to break deals with the Otherworld. Contracts and Pacts made with Spirits should be kept up with. It’s imperative.

Black Shuck

In East Anglian folklore, Black Shuck is an omen of death. If you see him, it is said that you will die before the year is up, and if you meet his eye you’ll be dragged away.

The first mention of the Black Shuck is in “The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle” in 1127 where He is affiliated with a Wild Hunt that was in Petersborough from Lent through Easter. Later on, in the 1500s, he is said to have broken into a church and killed two paritioners while kneeling in prayer.

Here we see the Chthonic side of the Devil. He is a psychopomp taking souls to the Other Side. He is a shepherd of the dead, warns us of impending doom, and teaches us about life, death, and ways to travel between the Worlds.

#witchblr #witchcraft #witch #sigil #necromancy #witch father #traditional witchcraft #folk witchcraft

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captainkirkk · 5 months

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

BNHA

something else to pretend by beeclaws

Bakugou apologies. Somehow, this makes things worse.

Retrograde by redrobin1989

Retrograde /ˈretrəˌɡrād/ adjective: directed or moving backwards noun: a degenerate person. verb: go back in position or time.

Seasoned pro heroes Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki are mentally transported back to their younger bodies due to a quirk. All they have to do is wait for the quirk to wear off for everything to return to normal. But sometimes the journey is worse than the destination.

dick move by konan_konan

Part 1 of batfam twitter shenanigans

dim trake ☑ @timdrakeceo・52min guys what if dick grayson IS batman. that’s why he thought he was getting cancelled. it all makes sense. 784K Views | 142 Retweets | 52 Quote Tweets | 63.9K Likes

tason jodd ☑ @jsntdd・49min ↳ replying to @timdrakeceo asshole last week you said i was batman 461K Views | 88 Retweets | 16 Quote Tweets | 18.3K Likes

or: a civilian overhears a conversation between batman and nightwing. twitter does what it always does: makes things worse

the rules of playing make believe by hoebiwan

“We can’t squat in some dead guy’s mansion, Damian,” Tim says. Damian, in the midst of packing all their meager belongings into grocery sacks, ignores him.

“Why not?” Jason demands. “It’s not like he’s using it. Finders keepers, losers weepers.”

Or: Homeless!Reverse Robins squat in Wayne Manor.

Nine Worlds

with a winged heart by celebros

"Cliopher. Cliopher. Cliopher." I blink. It's Conju, standing with his hands on my shoulders, and I go to answer him and realize that I am already speaking, babbling, and Franzel is behind him, wringing his hands and looking near tears. I try to focus on what I'm saying, but it's like a stream, light and splashing past me, too quick to hold, not enough to catch, somehow, somehow – A few weeks before the start of the viceroyship ceremonies, Kip finds himself the unwitting recipient of a truth serum.

Original Work

That Frightful Nest Inside the Throat by whereveryouroam

Part 1 of That Dreadful Clockwork Beats Below

Living horses were in vogue among the high and mighty of the great families, but Peter’s new owners had sent proud motorhorses, clicking over in a blur of cogs and wheels, to draw the carriage. It was a very nice carriage - plush and cushioned. He couldn’t help but think this was sinister. Masters didn’t transport slaves in finery. At least, not slaves like him.

Peter’s spent years under the cruelty of masters who want the Monster inside him to become their weapon. He is quite sure that Lord and Lady Arken will be no different.

Percy Jackson

Through rose-colored glasses (the past is perfect) by Mo13

Part 1 of Rose-colored glasses verse

Luke/Percy were in a non-consensual 'relationship' when Percy was twelve. Percy deals with the aftermath, while constantly convincing himself that his relationship with Luke was fine (IT WAS NOT). Mostly cooperates with canon up to the end of Heroes of Olympus.

The Goblin Emperor

A Complete Education by bomberqueen17

Preparing for the Emperor's wedding, everyone has some things they need to learn about.

Emperor's Best Friend by imaginary_golux

Ino and Mireän decide their cousin Maia needs a special present for his twentieth birthday.

a burning coal of kindness by egelantier for Morgan (duckwhatduck)

When Maia is kidnapped by a faction hoping to halt the construction of Wisdom Bridge, Beshelar, gravely injured, is by his side. It might just be their undoing.

The Stairs Beneath the Heart by hermitknut

Part 1 of Keystone

The reign of Varenechibal IV is over; the reign of Edrehasivar VII has begun. The transition, however, is anything but smooth, as the Alcethmeret household navigates grief and worry as well as adapting to the new emperor.

A series of missing scenes and unseen moments centering around the Alcethmeret household over the course of the first few months of Maia's reign.

#sorry for the delay you guys!!!#i'm in the middle of moving house ooft #weekly fic round up #my posts #tge recs #dc recs #bnha recs #pjo recs #hote recs #misc recs #fic recs

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s1utlvr · 8 months

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Chemtrails Over the Country Club ﹏

Luke Castellan X fem!aphrodite reader

In which Luke comes to recruit you.

a/n: Honestly this fic is so unserious and unhinged 😭😭 also listen. Idk how this got so long but it did. Also don’t know how this got so angsty but it did. Anyways takes place during sea of monsters just some heated making out and arguing mentions of bullying kinda Luke being well Luke. This was supposed to be inspired by I can see you by Taylor swift but then it got really long and angsty so here’s a little playlist of all the songs that inspired this. (Listen in order or don’t idc) Not proofread yeah that’s it lmk if I missed something.

Reflections- The Neighborhood

Chemtails Over the Country Club -Lana Del Rey

Money power Glory- Lana Del Rey

I Can See You - Taylor swift

Listening time- 17 mins

Word Count- 4.9k

~~~~𖠳~~~~~~~~𖠳~~~~~~~~𖠳~~~~~𖠳~~~~~~~~𖠳~~~~~~~

There was no one at camp who hadn’t heard the story of the night Percy Jackson returned.

It was a night of triumph as the son of Poseidon had saved Olympus and prevented war, until Luke castellan outed himself as the lighting thief and disappear.

And just like triumph came it diminished and once more there was talk of war.

But between all of this there was just something you couldn’t wrap your head around.

After the summer solstice most people left feeling frazzled, those like you who stayed for the remainder of the term continued picking sides preparing for the war that was said to come just like before Percy had returned.

Just like all the other cabins yours had come to a consensus as well, despite the fact your mother was a war goddess most were against a war out of hatred and spite for the gods and while you agreed part of you couldn’t help but feel…different.

Sure you were against a war breaking out any sane person would be, but part of you couldn’t help but sympathize with Luke.

See for a while you were your mother’s pride and joy, the epitome of what it meant to be Aphrodites daughter. You were charming, sweet, and had a beauty that could only come from the goddess of love and beauty herself and you lived for for the love and attention of your peers and your mother til you realized that was all you had to offer, and once someone sweeter, kinder, prettier came along you were left with nothing.

Your mother gave you everything, and then she took it all away.

It was humiliating being the “dumb Aphrodite kid” constantly being ridiculed for being shallow and vain but how could you not when all you were left with was your beauty?

You couldn’t even recount the amount of times you had sobbed and sobbed and sobbed about it the amount of times that you had prayed to something that you hoped could be bigger than the gods to give you a different parent someone who could gift you with knowledge or wisdom or skill or creativity just something that could make you feel like you were more like you were worthy, for a while you even considered joining the hunt. It wasn’t like your mother would ever let anyone endure the misery that would be loving you.

However despite all of this Luke still saw you.

You weren’t exactly friends throughout your time at camp half-blood but he treated you a hell of a lot better than most of his siblings whom would just look at you and whistle.

Whenever you two would spar he’d always give you a real challenge not letting you stop until you finally beat him and it was during the brief conversations after these moments where you found yourself seeing bits of you in him.

You were both runaways desperate to cling to something,desperate for glory, nobodies son and nobodies daughter; the wasted potential of your parents.

It was for this reason that you found yourself laying awake in the middle of the night pondering about Luke. War was bad for everyone there was no question about it and no sane person would just start of war out of spite. You knew it wasn’t right but part of you felt like he had to have had a reason for his doings something that had to have pushed him over the edge.

You hated to admit it but for the months he’s was gone you were miserable. You were loosing yourself without your conversations with Luke and worst of all you were loosing your beauty.

Sure it sounded vain but it was an odd phenomenon that occurred one in a million. See Aphrodites kids lived off of love, self and that of others it was one of the things that helped them thrive, and seeing as you were lacking both your hair began to thin and your face had begun hollowing out,suddenly you really started to feel for Luke.

It was your last straw, and what you would go on to say was your reason for the decision you made the night you saw him.

It was Labor Day weekend which also happened to be the last weekend before most began returning to camp and it was tradition for the year round campers to throw a final intimate campfire.

You had tried to ride out the night with some of your siblings but you had found it to be just as insufferable so you made your way back to your cabin.

It was quiet for a change, and for a minute it felt quite peaceful as you felt yourself closing your eyes until you heard the cabin door open once more.

You had expected to look up and see one of your siblings but instead, it was him.

You wore a shocked expression on your face your eyes looking his body up and down.

it was really him.

You didn’t know how to react he looked the same wearing sweatpants and a gray hoodie that hugged his arms a bit tighter, he had been training.

Despite the fact that he looked the same you knew he wasn’t, all you knew was that he was out for blood and he was standing infront of you.

Breathing was getting harder, as you moved back onto your bed your eyes stuck on the man infront of you.

“What…what do you want with me?” You asked still completely dumbfounded.

“Relax…..i have no intentions of hurting you.”

His expression remained the same, he was calm and collected. You felt absolutely insane.

“Why are you here Luke” you asked trying to match his tone and failing as the shakiness of your voice came through.

“I’m here to recruit you.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Why me?”

“Because I think you can help me. You see when people see you all they see is a pretty face……they underestimate you, but i can see you y/n. And as far as I’m concerned you’re the smartest demigod i know” He sounded so sure of himself for a second you almost believed him.

“You’re lying” You scoffed as you watched his expression change he wasn’t as calm as he was before, he persistent on recruiting you

“Would you look around y/n? You’re the only one who even knows I’m here. Everyone else is oblivious not just to this but everything. You see the world differently, you understand me y/n i need you.”

“But why would should I?” It was vain. You needed no more convincing.

“If you join me no one is ever gonna dare look at you the wrong way, ever. I won’t let them underestimate you y/n.”

It wasn’t right. You knew it in your gut it wasn’t.

But for once in your life you felt seen,wanted, you had the chance to do something that was bigger than yourself.

“When do we leave?”

“It’s not quite like that, I need eyes on the inside….just for now until Percy arrives…not that he’ll be staying long.” Your expression dimmed as he spoke.

“You have to trust me on this”

“How do you know you can trust me?”

“I don’t, but I do know something.”

“You’re your mother’s daughter. As much as we all despise them it doesn’t change the facts. And the fact is you Aphrodite kids are too loyal for your own good.

He could read you like a book, yet there was something freeing about the vulnerability you felt, like he was setting you free.

“I’m in”

He walked closer to you placing a few golden drachmas into your hand before closing your palm.

“I expect to hear from you soon.”

You had no idea what you had gotten yourself into.

The next couple of weeks were quiet, until they weren’t.Thalias tree had been poisoned and monsters were getting closer and closer each day,something told you it was Luke behind it. If you were right it was redundant to call him but something inside of you was telling you to call him anyways, so you grabbed a golden drachma from the pile that had been hiding away in your vanity followed by a prism of clear quartz and hoped for the best.

“Oh iris goddess of the rainbow please accept my offering” A rainbow reflected upon the window next to your bunk.

“Give me Luke Castellan, Princess andromeda, New York Harbor”

When you got to Luke he was in a meeting and didn’t notice your message at first but he looked different. His curls were shorter,shiner, like he had started taking care of them. He was wearing an emerald button up, trousers, and loafers that you could’ve sworn were gucci. To say he looked attractive was an understatement.

“It’s about time” He said startling you a bit as you had begun to zone out.

“I think you know why im calling, Thalias tree is dying”

“Perfect” a smirk landed on his face.

“That’s not it though. The barrier’s diminishing there’s talk about having twenty-four seven security on half blood hill and Clarisse is already there like every hour of the day”

His expression changed.

“How fast can you get to New York harbor?”

“I’m not finished. Chiron doesn’t want Percy going to camp this year, says it too dangerous.”

That was it, his eyes darkened as his mind wandered aimlessly in panic. He looked no where near as confident as he did just minutes ago.

“Pack up im calling a car, we’ll figure out what to do about Percy once you’re here”

You watched as his face quickly faded from the kaleidoscope of colors. Something was wrong very wrong but whatever it was he trusted you with it, and you trusted him.

Packing was always your specialty, you’d had the ability to pack your entire life into a duffel bag since you had started coming to camp; shoes,toiletries makeup, on bottom, in the upper part underwear, pants,dresses, shirts, in that order, and right on-top the thing that was missing this go around. The bright orange colored “Camp Half-Blood” shirts.

There was something almost liberating about being able to abandon them on your bed. Maybe that’s why the gods always abandoned their children.

It wasn’t hard slipping out from camp, not than anyone really noticed you nowadays but it was dinner hour, and by the time it was over you were already boarding the Princess Andromeda where you were greeted by a cabin stewardess.

“Good evening Ms. Y/n. We’ve been expecting you” She was tall blonde and had dry almost scale-y hands, something told you she wasn’t exactly human but you didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

She took your bags and led you to your room, the decor ironically reminiscent of the Poseidon cabin.

“Mr Castellan needs you in the orlop at ten but until then feel free to enjoy any and all amenities, enjoy your stay.”

You nodded as you watched her leave the room closing the door behind you.

You began to unpack while simultaneously trying to figure out what to wear. You weren’t exactly sure what the dress code was for a meeting to plan the downfall of Percy Jackson but based off of what you’d seen Luke wearing in your iris message you assumed business formal.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you’d pack the dress, it was a gift from your mother from when she’d actually bothered to try and have a relationship with you. It was a long black dress with chains around the waist. You hadn’t worn it in months. The words that came out of her mouth as she handed it to you played in your head on repeat.

“Your beauty is all powerful. What you do with that is of your choosing but choose wisely.”

You weren’t sure if you believed that anymore, if you believed her at all. But the dress felt appropriate.

You let your hair down and got ready applying some light makeup, something you hadn’t done since last summer. Meanwhile you’d thought about what people had said about Luke last summer, wondering if they’d say the same things about you once they found out, if they’d call you a “traitor” and a “monster” But If what you were doing was so wrong then how come you finally felt like yourself again?

A bit later the stewardess who had greeted you earlier escorted you down some corridors to the bottom deck to an old maintenance room that was now being used as a lair of sorts.

Inside Luke was sitting crouched over in a chair with his head down,next to him was Chris Rodriguez one if his siblings you’d seen around camp and two other men who appeared to be older than you three.

Tensions were high, you felt it as soon as you walked in.

As he heard you walk in Luke looked up adjusting himself as he looked your body up and down.

“Good you’re here. Take a seat we don’t have much time.” He said as he motioned to the seat next to him.

You sat down, the other two men watching you closely.

“How much do you know?” One of the anonymous men asked.

“Percy was supposed to go back to camp at the end of this week, Thursday. Chiron has been trying to convince Sally Jackson otherwise but Percy Himself isn’t aware of the state of camp.” You said

“He doesn’t get to camp he can’t take the bait and all of this is fucked we need a plan and we need it now.” Luke was getting agitated.

“We need to make him not going not an option.” Chris added.

“Exactly” luke replied

It was silent for a moment, the sound of Luke tapping his foot filled the room until one of the men spoke.

“I know some people we can call up, get him in some trouble at school. If he’s still under the impression camp is safe he’ll go running to Chiron.”

You watched as a wave of relief washed over Luke’s face.

“Get to it we don’t have time to waste.”

The man nodded before walking out of the room followed by the other man.

“Hey man I’m gonna go grab a drink you want?”

“Yeah I’ll meet you there” Luke said to him as Chris nodded before walking out.

You watched as he left your eyes locking on Luke once you heard the door shut. He looked even better than he did in the iris message now that you were seeing him in person. You couldn’t help but imagine things that would make even your mom blush.

“You came” He said as he turned to face you.

You sound suprised”

“Not surprised, relieved. Without your intel Percy wouldve had us chasing our own tail. I’m glad you made it.” He sounded sweet, genuine. It was hard to believe he was the same person people had talking about at camp.

“Glad I’m here.” You said shooting him a soft smile as he stood up offering out his hand, you took it as you stood up.

“You wanna come with?” He asked motioning to the door.

“I’m ok, I’ll see you later”

“I tried” He said with a fake dramatic sigh as he held his hand to his heart you rolled your eyes at his antics.

“You look good y/n” He said before exiting the room.

His words shouldn’t have made your heart flutter like they did, you were nothing more to him than a pawn, but if he could get something out of this why couldn’t you?

You decided to grab a jacket from your room and make your way up to the deck, it was late and empty for the most part as you settled on the ledge of the boat looking out at the New York skyline in the distance, the Brooklyn bridge illuminating the night sky. As much as you may have hated the gods you had to give them some credit. They picked a beautiful city to move Olympus too.

“What are you doing?” You heard from behind you as you turned to face Luke.

“Admiring the view” you responded letting out a sigh at the look of his face of disdain.

“It’s not safe out here, they’ll smell you.” He said as he walked towards you his expression ever so slowly relaxing.

“nothing you can’t handle.” You replied with a smirk. It was true, Luke was the best swordsmen you knew there wasn’t a monster he couldn’t handle.

“Doesn’t mean you can just go around getting into trouble, what am I your saving grace?”

Hearing those words come out of his mouth made you blush, he really did save you.

Cmon, you ought to get back to your room” he said as hey began walking back inside.

“It’s ok I’ll find my way around” you said as you scurried infront of him.

“Nonsense youre staying next to me I’ll walk you” Luke replied continuing to walk as you stopped in your tracks.

“You know I can look out for myself”

“Believe me I know, you wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t…..it just helps me sleep at night.” There was something comforting about his words that made you smile as you caught up to him.

“Kinda sounds like you do wanna save” you teased as you walked alongside him.

“Did I not?” He replied making a fake face of confusion causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yeah you totally did” you said as you entered the hallway your rooms were on.

“Get some rest, things should be pretty calm til we get to Miami.” Luke said resting his arm on your shoulder.

“What’re we doing in Miami?” You asked.

“Just….rest up”

“I’ll see you in the morning then” You said as you walked down to your room glancing at him down the hallway one last time before entering.

You couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything at all really. Only his words that replayed in your head over and over and over and the way his lips seemed to glisten and the way his shirt hugged his arms and most of all fthe fact that there was nearly a thin wall separating you and Luke, and the things you’d be able to hear through it.

For the first time in months you slept like a rock knowing you weren’t alone knowing there was someone looking out for you. Sure you weren’t helpless but you weren’t against the idea of Luke wanting to look out for you.

The rest of the day was nice, peaceful, for the most part that was until evening.

Word got around Annabeth had single handled gotten Percy back to camp and they were figuring out things too quickly which called for an emergency meeting meaning Luke practically dragged you out of your room while you were half dressed leaving you in a tank top and some sweatpants.

“Wait so what’s happening?” You asked as you scurried to the lower deck

“Clarisse was sent on a quest to go obtain the Golden Fleece for Thalias tree”

“Which is good for us right?”

“Wrong, cause we had assumed Percy would go”

“So what now?”

“‘thing is because of that we had started to reroute only to find out the impertinent shit and his entourage are planning on joining her” He said slamming open the door to the old maintence room and slamming it just as quickly as she opened it.

“Listen Luke our options are limited-“ Chris stated as you entered the room.

“You think I don’t know that?” Luke hissed.

“I’m just saying our best bet is to lure him on board when he gets to the harbor.”

You scowled at his words. “We can’t do that”

“Says who?” Chris scoffed

“It’s not logical. We’d be risking everything we know little nothing we don’t know who or what he could have with him all we know is who he is and he is not to be underestimated for this to work we need more. We might aswell be serving ourselves up on a silver platter”

“She has a point” One of the guys from yesterday responded as you felt Chris’ piercing eyes on you.

“Why should we listen to her? She’s always just been a dumb Aphrodite girl what like that changed overnight”

Your heart sank. Just like that you were back at camp.

“Excuse me?”

“Y/n-“ Luke said reaching out for your arm only to be pushed away.

“No what the fuck did you just say? Aphrodite may be my mother but atleast I know who my godly parent it. You’re just an unclaimed kid who Hermes took pity on so if I were you I wouldn’t be talking.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“This is a fucking joke you’re a fucking joke-“ You cursed as you stormed out Luke following quickly behind you.

“What the fuck was that?” He shouted as you walked into your room

“I don’t know you tell me”

“You can’t do that”

“I thought we had an agreed no more of that bullshit but i guess since it’s your best fucking friend that doesn’t apply to him huh?”

“What’s it gonna take for you to keep your fucking mouth shut huh?” He shouted cornering you into a wall.

You were tongue tied. For the first time you’d seen the monster people had described at camp for months. But under the anger in his eyes you saw something else, a deep hunger and desire.

“I’m sorry-“

“Luke” you cried out as you swallowed a lump in your throat causing it to come out as more of a breathy moan.

You watched his eyes lighten as the anger turned into pure lust in his eyes your shaky hand making its way up to his neck only to be met by his wrist.

“If his happens you will be putting yourself into immediate danger, and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe but not a single person can know. You are my weakness and if someone figured that out I cannot assure you that you won’t end up dead and I can’t loose anyone else y/n especially not you, but you have to understand I will not have you mess this operation up do you understand?”

You couldn’t speak.

“I said do you understand?” His voice was louder harsher.

“Yes”

The moment the word slipped off your tongue his lips were pressed against yours with full force. There was absolutely nothing romantic about the way his hands gripped at your sides and the way his lips gnawed at your skin. It was pure lust and desire.

And it was everything you had ever wished for.

you despised your mother, but for once in your life you couldn’t thank her enough.

It was rushed and sloppy but Luke had never needed anything in his life so badly like he needed you.

He could’ve kissed you forever and it still wouldn’t have been enough, his tongue longing for the taste of you the moment you pulled away from him.

“Not a word about this.”

“Maybe you’ll just have to keep me quiet.”

#percy jackson #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #charlie bushnell #sea of monsters #pjo series #luv aubrey <33

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 years

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Tohru Honda: a Subversion of Shoujo’s Nice Girl Trope

Fruits Basket absolutely nails subverting your expectations of character tropes in anime.

Momiji is introduced as the cute childish boy but boom we are slapped with the fact that he a mother who hated him so much she had her memories wiped of him. Shigure right off the bat looks like the typical perverted uncle of anime when in reality he is one the most manipulative characters in the series. Ayame is the flamboyant, boisterous one whose bravado hides his regret and desire to repent for his past neglect of his younger brother. Which ultimately brings me to the protagonist of Furuba itself, Tohru Honda.

I'll make it no secret that I have a huge soft spot for Fruits Basket as a series. It was the first manga I read, I watched the 2001 series and I was right on the hype train when I saw it was getting a remake that would follow the manga storyline. But I did my best to be as objective as possible in this essay of sorts saying why I believe Tohru is a great example of subverting the "Nice Girl Protagonist" of Shoujo. Tohru is the protagonist of Fruits Basket and when it comes to those who don't like her, it seems she can be hit or miss due to the assumption that she is perfect.

The general consensus of those who do not like her or find her bland compared to the rest of the cast is that Tohru is a perfect and bland protagonist with no issues of her own. That all she does is wave her healing wand of warm smiles and makes everything better for those around her.

However, that opinion couldn't be more misguided. In reality, Tohru is just as emotionally broken as the Sohmas and they mend her heart just as much as she mends theirs. As such, I hope to show those who find her bland or otherwise boring that there is more substance to Tohru's character than they believe.

At first glance, Tohru does seems like your typical Shoujo protagonist. She's nice, almost to a fault. She would rather talk her way out of a situation instead of throwing hands, she doesn't get mad in situations other typically would, and she has a hard time asking for help. Oh and with a dash of anime originality, she's an orphan. However even as early as episode 1, you can see hints that Tohru is not going to be the usual nice girl protagonist with her desire to work and be as independent as possible. The mangaka does a great job throughout the series showing with hints and broad examples that Tohru is just as complex as the colorful cast around her.

Ironically enough though, when hints of Tohru's trauma are sprinkled throughout the series it is seen as annoying even when the Furuba takes time to give insight into why she does the things she does.

She mentions her mother constantly in anecdotes of whimsical stories or snippets of wisdom her mother imparted her with.

Compared to the death of parents to other anime protagonists, Tohru's situation is a bit more unique. Tohru's father may have died when she was young but the same cannot be said for her mother, Kyoko, who died fairly recently. When the series begins, Kyoko has only been dead for a few months and it is more than apparent as early as episode 1 that Tohru is desperate to keep any semblance of her mother's existence alive. Kyoko died before Tohru's first year of high school even ended and worse, was told in the middle of class. Tohru has had barely any time to heal from this loss and it is evident in how she talks to her mother's photo.

Yes, in Japanese culture, it may be typical to have photos of departed family members, making a shrine for them and leaving offerings from time to time. But Tohru takes this to a completely different level, showcasing how deep her trauma runs.

When she is digging frantically to take out her mother's photo after the landslide destroyed her tent, she cries "She can't breathe in there. She's in pain." And that's just episode one.

Nobody completely over the death of their parent would speak like this, referring to a photo as a living person. She lost her mother and she didn't even get a chance to say goodbye, even feeling guilt to an extent about the situation. Tohru didn't wake up to tell her mother that she would see her later. There is no way that simply getting up to tell her mother goodbye would have changed the outcome of her fate, but Tohru still feels that way. That it didn't matter if she had tests or work or the next day, the one she should have put first was her mother.

Anyone who has or is currently experiencing the grief of losing a loved one has likely done the same. Wondering if, if the situation was anything other than illness or old age, there was something they could have done. Things they should have said or could have said differently. What more could they have done to help and the feeling is all consuming. Even if it is unprompted, they somehow will manage to insert their lost family or friend into a conversation that didn't include them or may randomly begin talking about them. A lot of the time, these people don't even realize that they're doing it which is shown in season 2 with Tohru when Hiro asks her why she talks about her mother so much.

She is too positive.

Tohru's positivity is one of the most easily seen aspects of her character. Where others might see the glass half-empty, Tohru sees it as half-full. Her positivity is even noted upon by characters within the show, Saki (Hanajima) mentioning that she doesn't believe she could personally smile like that so soon after the death of a loved one.

Tohru doesn't like thinking about her problems. She doesn't like expressing her sadness. She doesn't want to worry those around her when they likely have their own problems to worry about. Saki predicts that this ability Tohru has to act this way is because she would scold herself if she ever showed a hint of sadness. And Saki was right because we see Tohru later on doing exactly that, crying but forcing herself to try and smile and scolding herself for not keeping it together.

Rather than let Yuki comfort her when she is in tears, she smiles and completely changes the topic even though tears are coming down her face.Tohru tells Kyo that she needs a minute to get herself together because breaking down in tears in front of him wasn't what she planned. She was supposed to smile when she saw him again.

Tohru would rather pretend everything is fine even when she is seconds away from falling apart because toxic positivity is something she struggles with.

No one can be that positive all the time, not even Tohru.

Tohru has a hard time asking others for help.

Yes, Tohru is kind-hearted by nature but she genuinely does believe that she could burden those she troubles for help. Considering how her maternal side of the family wanted nothing to do with her and her paternal side of the family talks poorly about her, it isn't difficult to see where that frame of thinking came to be. When her mother died, her paternal side of the family didn't argue over who wanted to take Tohru in, they argued over who should take Tohru in and that is an important distinction. Even more so the fact, they had these arguments in front of her. When it was finally settled that she should live with her grandfather and that was uprooted due to upcoming renovations, it makes sense that she would rather be homeless in a tent than bother her friends who don't have the space to provide for an additional person even if that.

In Tohru's mind, it was shown very clearly by her family that she is a burden. She's an extra mouth to feed and an unwanted mouth at that, as her family never holds back in disparaging Kyoko even if Tohru is present.

As such, when Tohru is in a situation where she has no other choice than to accept their help, she believes she should be extremely grateful. They're taking their time to help her when they easily could have done otherwise, so why should she want more? Why should she complain? If she has any desires, she pushes it down because of that belief because she feels awful and that she shouldn't want for more when people are already going out of their way to help an extra mouth to feed. Because of this mentality cultivated by the bulk of her paternal relatives mistreatment, she will seldom voice her wants.

She never gets angry or upset.

To say Tohru never gets angry or close to physical in her reactions is far from the truth. Tohru gets angry when the issue impacts those that she cares about.

Tohru can tolerate being mistreated but she will always draw the line at the abuse being directed to someone else. When she first meets Akito and she sees Yuki's clear discomfort and fear, she pushes Akito away from him immediately. When she witnesses Momiji being punched by Akito, she immediately steps in and places herself in front of Momiji to physically shield him. When Rin tells her not to meddle with the curse and involve herself, Tohru, without cruelty, shoots back that she will absolutely meddle and involve herself because she refuses to lose the people she cares about to someone who has clearly been abusing them emotionally and physically for years. Tohru's tolerance for mistreatment has a limit, she is just unfortunately not included in that limit. So when we finally see her get angry in a scenario that includes herselfー when Kyo tries to run away because he feels he doesn't deserve her love, it's incredible.

There is so much more to Tohru than meets the eye. Tohu's reaction to Yuki getting a cold isn't just Tohru overreacting for the sake of being a nice girl, it's because her father died from a cold he brushed off and that cold turned into a fatal illness. For Tohru, colds aren't something that can just be brushed away because what if it turns into something worse.

Tohru would rather wear clothes until they practically fall apart than buy new clothes because she knows that she can't just spend her money haphazardly. But when it came to Valentine's Day and wanting to express her gratitude for those who cared about her, she had no problem dropping an entire check to purchase the ingredients to make enough chocolate for everyone.

She disregards herself and the efforts she puts forward. When she feels she has failed in helping Arisa, she specifically says "everyone around me has always helped me and when it is my turn to do the same, I can't." These aren't problems she overcomes herself by simply "smiling through the pain" as some who discredit her argue. Tohru is repeatedly loved and helped by those around her who care for her and opens herself up to receive that love and help over time. She is taught by her grandfather and Sohmas that is okay for her to be selfish and ask for things.

Her friends teach her that she helps them so much and that in reality they feel like they are never there to help her when she needs it.Her friends get upset that the same amount of money she would spend on them, she wouldn't spend on herself.

She is told that the way she villainized Katsuya after his death because doesn't make her dirty or a bad person because she was a child that was scared to lose her mother. That her fear and desperation to make her mother acknowledge her was understandable. That mimicking her father in her attempt to draw her mother's attention probably helped more than she realized.

Tohru is not just a "Nice Shoujo Girl" Protagonist, she is a girl with trauma who would rather focus on the issues someone else has than look to her own.

Like I said before, this isn't me trying to get Tohrus haters to like her. People are entitled to like and dislike whichever characters they please, but it is a complete disservice to Natsuki Takaya's writing to say Tohru is bland and has no struggles of her own. Tohru has many problems and struggles she has to deal with throughout the series and seeing those issues she overcomes being brushed aside as her being perfect and having no problems is a complete oversight. As such, I just simply wanted to peel back Tohru's layers and showcase that just as characters such as Momiji, Shigure and Ayame are more than the tropes they are introduced as, Tohru is as well.

[i wrote this on reddit too]

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lovelykhaleesiii · 9 months

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My Best Girl

HEADCANON

PAIRING: Best Friend's Dad!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Modern AU]

WORDS: 1,200.

SUMMARY: Your best friend from University, had been begging all year long for you to join her back in her home town to spend the holidays with her family. Being the loyal friend you are, you thought it would be the decent thing to do...

WARNINGS: age-gap implies (consensual & legal, reader is 18+, Jahaera aged up), innocence kink, praise kink, degradation kink, Daddy kink, p in v sexual intercourse, edging, cream pie, breeding kink (if you squint), slight dub-con, thigh riding implied, jealous!aegon, possessive!aegon, swearing.

A/N - thanks to the wonderful, talented, beautiful @valeskafics who planted this AU in my head... I have plunged deep into a dilf!Aegon rot. ily bby xx

You had no intention of ever sparking a relationship over the holiday period, let alone with an older man... That just so happened to be your best friend's father.

Jaheara Targaryen, you had fondly grown acquainted with over your undergraduate semesters in University: so enraptured by each other, she practically was begging for you to join her over the holiday period: saving you from spending a lonesome, seldom time alone on campus.

The moment you laid eyes on her beloved father, Aegon Targaryen, you felt your heart beat halt, breath hitched in your throat, and a rather odd yearning ignited between the sweet spot between your thighs.

He was a rather handsome man, you could no deny: his unique features had softened with adipose, yet his age had shown, along with whatever hardships he had faced. Scarring across his brow, beneath his eye socket, and yet he exuded a formidable presence, it somewhat intimidated you.

You struggled to even maintain eye contact, doe eyes constantly fluttering from the larger man before you, to your scuttling feet, before Jahaera dragged you away into the privacy of her own room.

You subtly attempted to pry, asking singular questions about her father, in which Jahaera would mindlessly respond with a swift response.

A divorcee, his relationship with Jahaera's biological mother had been tense from the beginning, incompatible. She did disclose he had many flings, occupied with one night stands and frequented by regular women of the neighbourhood, yet did not dare to settle, for whatever reason.

That is until, you had mindlessly wandered off venturing the opulent double-storey, before abruptly being surprised by Aegon's presence in the kitchen during the later hours of the night.

"And what might a pretty girl like you be doing wandering in the dark, hmm?"

Your mind rushing with fleeting, blank thoughts, moments later you found yourself being effortlessly lifted onto the counter top, rutting your aching, soaked cunt against his sturdy, meaty thigh, before he would taunt and tease your silky folds with his tip. Burying his dense girth inside of you, stretching your walls like no man has ever.

Since that surreal night, awake the next few days as if you lived through a vivid, fever dream: your relationship blossomed with your best friend's father, in discrete.

Aegon relished in how flustered and bothered you get, even with the faintest motions, such as close proximity, his overpowering musky scent intoxicating you with each inhale: making you weak in the knees, and butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach.

Regardless, of the age difference you both shared similar interests in films, attitudes and romance.

Aegon devoured your innocence: despite having been in previous relationships, your innocence in trusting him to take the lead, to protect you and be intimate with you, reinforced his belief in you.

He took you seriously from the beginning: having the decency to not treat you like some mindless, young fling.

Your vulnerability towards him, drove him mad: as he felt a responsibility towards you.

In return, you favored his wisdom, with life and in the bed. He taught you how to really please a man.

He would often praise you: admiring your beauty, your intelligence and demeanor. Although, in the end he was somewhat of a youth, relishing in teasing you, making logic cease as he fucked you senseless.

"My good, little whore so greedy for a Daddy, she took her best friend's, huh? Daddy's gonna have to punish you for that little stunt. Thinking you can come in here looking fucking ravenous."

Regardless of Aegon's intent to care, his sex and affections were rough. Manhandling you, spanking you till your cheeks remained red and raw with tenderness for days [certain his handprint was strewn across your flesh], gripping and pulling your hair with such force. He needed to instil some fear, a mutual understanding as he preferred to call it, that you could not go anywhere now without his knowledge.

When you both weren’t being intimate, he enjoyed our company, having you mount and straddle his thigh and lap. Watching him attend to work, answering phone calls, getting so riled up when he was arguing with his correspondents. You had come to realise, Aegon had a rather quick and fierce temper.

Many times, Jaehaera pleaded and fought with her father to take you out to the local city clubs both in the company of her hometown friend [males present] and without, and time after time, he stubbornly denied the two of you from leaving the premises.

Overtime, he refused the idea of you having male companions and friends.

“I know what boys are like at that age baby, they don’t want to be just friends… You’re mine now, and I don’t like to share.”

Jahaera frustrated and uncertain of his motive would excuse herself, and recluse in her room, leaving you pampered and dolled up for Aegon's own undoing.

He enjoyed watching you from afar pampering yourself: "dolling yourself up for Daddy, baby? Always lookin' so beautiful, I need to keep you running around her for my own viewing."

The moment the word slipped your vile tongue, was the moment something snapped in Aegon, that made him cement his feelings for you... Daddy.

He favored the moment, demanding you obey his every command, moaning heavy breaths for you to repeat yourself in a constant loop, directly into his ear.

He wanted you to acknowledge him as almost your savior. Considering him almost god-like which, you faintly had.

Another niche about your elder boyfriend: he purely enjoyed in fucking you raw, no protection, as he craved to feel you.

"Baby this ain't my first rodeo, I'll pull out okay. I'll get you the pill if I have to--"

"Good cause I still have two years to go, and I don't think J-Jahaera would appreciate this-"

"But your already such a slut for me, taking me so fucking well and perfect, she brought you on a platter for me, knowing damn well I couldn't resist... Surely?!"

Regardless, Aegon's attempts at hiding the affair would occasionally plunder: sending you "anonymous" gifts through the mail, of wealthy jewels, the finest material of laundrette and perfumes.

Countless times Jahaera poorly attempted to pry the truth from your sealed lips: she knew that you were seeing someone, just not who...

When it came to returning to campus: you would often exchange raunchy pictures: Aegon was poorly tech-savy in comparison to you: so a dick pic and video at most, was all he could provide.

You however, thrived off online. Sending him nude pics of yourself [this was a first], only to be showered with compliments, before Aegon would request to video call you: jerking himself feverishly as he ached to feel your tight walls swallowing his dick.

You nearly got caught by Jahaera, lurking his social media and the texts, before coming up with a reasonable excuse.

You would be the first to say "I love you" hesitant and all, Aegon however, had no shame to admit it. The words fell naturally off of his plump lips.

And so, Aegon's intent with you surpassed the theatrics of his previous licentious behaviours. He is obsessed with you!

general taglist - @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @aegonslawyer

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #aegon ii imagine #aegon ii imagines #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii fanfiction #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x fem!reader #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd fanfic #hotd fanction.#aegon ii smut #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii angst #best!friend!dad!Aegon ii x fem!reader #jahaera targaryen

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vivalabunbun · 1 year

Text

Let's Look Over The Garden Wall

Summary: One wants an easy meal and one wants to play house.

Word Count: 9.9k

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), MDNI, Modern AU, Vampire AU, Contract Marriage, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, pet name? (calls you good girl) TW: Blood & Blood drinking, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader, slight orgasm denial, slight corruption kink, wedding night, temperature play? He falls hard, slow fic, tragedy

Authors note: This whole fic was a challenge since I wanted to write it kinda from Alhaitham’s pov. I’m not really knowledgeable about vampires, so in this fic they’re just a type of monster and not undead, and vampire blood can turn humans into monsters. Enjoy!

Side note: Here is the other side, Finale

The secretary had just arrived at the office not too long ago, shift starting at six pm and going until midnight. The typical hours for a creature of the night.

Like a sweet breeze that blew stray leaves through his office’s open window, a stranger came gallivanting through the boundaries of his door, contract in hand. Faruzan, the office receptionist trailing after you with your proper introduction.

“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.”

He certainly wasn’t expecting this when he walked through the sliding doors of the building. The biggest company in Sumeru, the firm that specialized in such dubious pacts.

In an age where humans now outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten the once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to play by mortal rules. One such rule, vampires can no longer drink human blood.

Animal substitutes were of course inferior in both taste and satisfaction, any vampire would know this. However, there’s a loophole to this law. Vampires can’t drink human blood legally unless it’s consensual by both parties, established through contracts. Business exchanges for money, power, or glory.

Of course, this practice is heavily regulated. Hunters who uphold the balance ready to rip the hearts out of those who dare make an unfair deal. Alhaitham is the simple secretary who files these contracts, not one of the agents tasked with such things.

Still, he’s intrigued. Even in this office there are many who have yet to see the face of this elusive vampire, how did this human identify him? He was looking for an excuse to stray away from dull lines of files, might as well entertain your musings.

The ashen-haired immortal pulls out a seat for you, nodding to Faruzan sending her out of his office, giving you privacy. Alhaitham ambles to the other side of the polished wood, settling down on his plush office chair.

“The process for filling a contract is straightforward, even though this consultation wasn’t planned, if negotiations go well you’ll then undergo a psychological evaluation.”

You nodded your head lightheartedly, posture relaxed in the chair.

“So,” he begins.

“What are your demands?”

“Marry me.”

Dead silence. He certainly wasn’t expecting a proposal this Monday night. Were you wasting his time with a joke?

You must’ve read his unfazed mask. Quickly pulling a pen and notepad from your pocket.

“I’m being serious, I want you to be my husband.” Hands swiftly jotting sentences down on paper.

In your graceless handwriting, you listed all your qualifications. Age, name, blood type, and financial status. You also detailed some self-prescribed personality traits.

Alhaitham skips over that section.

Marriage contracts weren’t unheard of, nor were marriages between humans and vampires. He believes such practices weren’t deemed illegal solely because of human morbid curiosity and desires.

No immortal, with their centuries of knowledge and wisdom, would waste such energy on a mortal, without a price of course. It would be a fool’s errand to not have fair compensation.

“For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine.” You point the pen toward him.

How romantic.

“I’d say you’re getting the better end of the deal, Mr. Alhaitham.” There’s a curl to your lips, resting your elbows upon his polished desk.

With a slight sigh, Alhaitham pulls out a form, pen swiftly recording the necessary information. There’s going to be a long process of straightening out the clauses, but this should suffice for approval.

“Why me?” He inquires, straightening out the proposal on his desk.

“You’re handsome, have money, and I like your voice.”

The rustling of papers and pens stopped. Dead unamused silence.

“Pfft! Too brash? Sorry, sorry, I was only joking,” giggling as you waved it off.

“Well, to be fair the real reason isn’t much better, to be honest.” You leaned in closer, creeping towards the unseen boundaries of his personal space.

“I often see you passing through the streets, guess I got enamored from there.” Your smile was shameless but your cheeks were tinted pink.

A hopeless romantic, that answer suffices him for now. He could’ve easily shown you the door, but life has been stagnant for a few decades. History repeats itself if you live long enough to see it, new occurrences are rare. As the sky deepens from indigo to midnight, two bodies sit across from each other, discussing sentences written on paper.

“I’ll contact you in three business days with the verdict, have a good night.”

“I shall await the news.” You beamed at him, warm and icy hands meeting for a handshake.

Just as you entered, you left with that same giddiness. Now left with his thoughts, Alhaitham reviewed the documents, he had three days to ponder whether or not to submit them to the legal team, and through the judgment of a certain scarlet-eyed General Hunter.

As per Sumeru regulations, all offices run by vampires must have uncovered glass windows. An attempt conquered by humans to enfeeble creatures of the night. Alhaitham’s beryl gaze traveled up the length of the building stationed across the street.

What an ironic placement for a hospital to be facing the biggest firm staffed by immortality. Or perhaps it was strategic, after all the most desperate humans are the ones who lay upon their deathbeds for one last hurrah.

The perfect scheme to keep the blood contracts flowing in.

Teal eyes observe the room right across through the glass, it seems freshly vacant. New untouched sheets, new unflatten pillow, and fresh towels.

Alhaitham can now confirm the validity of your statement, a half-truth.

When deciding on a contract, one must weigh the pros and cons, to see if they balance or if one side gives away to another. Your demands? You wanted to experience married life, all aspects of it. Your offer? Your everything.

All your assets together can’t hold a candle to the amount Alhaitham has accumulated for centuries, but it’s a decent amount. Perhaps due to a medical settlement.

Alhaitham has lived long enough to rein in primal desires, he can suffice off animal substitutes just fine. However, it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want a taste of the real thing again. You offer him a steady supply, and to give him every last drop after seven years.

Yes, all of this for a mere seven-year contract. A deal heavily tipped in the favor of the vampire, not even a mere fraction of the time immortality offers. However, what piqued his interest the most weren’t the benefits listed.

A garden wall the tall vampire can’t peer over. Insight only attainable by those who near the end of their finite paths. What’s it like to have agency? What’s it like to have such finite time?

He’ll have seven years to observe. He submits the forms on the third day, delivering your verdict over the phone. Alhaitham agrees to entertain your little daydream.

On part that it was Alhaitham who personally filed the forms, the approval process went swimmingly, skipping the paper line. Tighnari oversaw the psychological evaluation, test after test confirming the sanity of your mind, speeding up the process of getting that stamp.

–

“What flowers do you like? I’m planning the decorations.” Your legs swinging under his kitchen table.

The contract was approved, hands held and certificates signed at the town hall, your belongings moved into his house. It’s excessive to want a celebration after all of that.

“Whichever flowers you want.”

Alhaitham will hold his tongue, after all, he’s signed to play the role of a husband.

–

The venue was spacious, high ceilings with marble floors and pillars, all of which were lavishly cluttered with Padisarahs, Sumeru Roses, and Kalpalata Lotuses. Alhaitham stood at the altar just off to the side of the wedding officiant. Tuxedo crisp and hands folded together, he scans over the rows of guests invited.

Since there weren’t any in-laws, Alhaitham assumed you wouldn’t have much of a social network. No one’s correct all the time, he ignores the piercing glares of a few eyes. The all-too-loud tones of a grand piano resound through the room. The previously shut doors open to reveal your figure. Embellished dress and veil perfectly framed by the carved entranceway as you ambled your way up the aisle.

The twilight hues of the sky dye the white gown in everchanging vibrancy as you passed by the standing crowd, up the steps to the altar, and finally in front of him. The overwhelmingly floral scent of the bouquet itches his nose.

Alhaitham pays no mind to the soliloquy of the officiant, he simply follows the rehearsed procedures. Sliding the gold band onto your finger and allowing you to do the same to him, lifting the veil to reveal your starry-eyed gaze he places a practiced kiss against your warm lips.

Is this excessive ritual over yet? No.

Alhaitham stands in the corner of the reception hall, hand nursing a glass of wine. The rich spices of the buffet offered to the guest irritated his palate. Supernatural creatures with their enhanced senses, a double-edged sword. Human food serves no purpose to vampires, it’s over-seasoned and pungent. At least your species has created drinks such as coffee and wine, delicacies even immortal creatures can enjoy.

In the center of the artificially lit hall, you eagerly greeted all your guests as they beamed at you. Giggling and hugging each person as an entourage of three friends helped with that embellished gown of yours. Two pairs of eyes from said entourage occasionally glared at him, their bodies forming a barrier to separate groom from bride. Candace and Dehya were the names you introduced to him.

Your starry-eyed self blissfully unaware of the silent cold war as the scarlet-haired dancer calls the attention of the two hunters back for the bouquet toss. Alhaitham was nothing more than just a decoration, you just wanted an excuse to prance around in a pretty white dress and throw a fancy party. He’s your husband, he’ll tolerate this daydream.

–

“Did you enjoy the reception?”

Only after the send-off and closing ceremony of the celebration, when the bride and groom were behind the thick oak doors of their suite, that you seemed to remember the decoration named ‘Alhaitham’.

“Yes, it was lovely.” The wine provided by the venue was of the highest quality, it entertained him enough.

“I hope you’re not upset at me being busy with guests.” Your arms found their way around his waist.

Quite comfortable encroaching on his space huh.

“I’m not.” Better they talk to you and not him.

As his cold hands pat the exposed skin of your back, his teal eyes didn’t miss the trail of goosebumps that prickled your skin. Shall he move on to the next scene? The lacing of your dress seems quite complicated, he assumes that it must have taken a few pairs of hands to tie it. Should he be a good husband?

“Do you need help with this?” His baritone voice was right against your ear, noticing the flush on the tips.

“Yes.” For once your voice was just barely above a whisper, a blushing bride.

The lacing weaved in and out of eyelets running down along the length of your back, how troublesome. Always one for efficiency, Alhaitham simply takes a handful of the taught lace and pulls, they snapped like simple threads. Such things offer no resistance to a creature of the night. The gasp that escaped your lips feed into something deep within.

With the bonds loosened, the embellished dress of yours lost the fight against gravity, fabric pooling at your feet. Revealing to teal eyes the lacy white stockings, garter belt, and panties, all the hallmarks of a wedding night. It’s impossible to deny the hunger crawling up his throat, no force of nature could resist such a sight.

“Aren’t you forgetting something? It’s rude to not offer the groom some help, no?” His hunger enjoyed that scarlet flush on your face.

Indecisive fingers going for the easiest button, opening the tuxedo jacket allowing him to shimmy it off his broad shoulders. Teal eyes continued to survey your flushed face, the smirk on his waiting for your hands to continue. Obeying his silent command like a good bride, you loosened the bow tie next, finally freeing him from that stiff collar.

Slowly your eyes peered up, asking if the torment was over yet, the slight rise in his ash brow directing you to resume. From your lips came the beginnings of a whine to which he sternly shushed. If you couldn’t even undress him how would you be able to do the other vulgar activities?

Finally relenting, your fingers continued with their clumsy attempt at unbuttoning his dress shirt, once a small window of his chest appeared your face pressed against the cool skin, staying there until all the buttons were undone. Oh? So even you can feel shame?

“Shall we continue on the bed, my bride?”

Your face was still hidden in his chest as you nodded, where did that shameless nature of yours go? With your gaze adverted he didn’t even bother hiding the curl of his lips. Sweeping you off the ground, he could hear the flutter in your chest increasing as the distance between the bed closes.

Upon silk sheets, Alhaitham settles down with you in between his legs and back against his chest. One key difference between humans and vampires? Body heat, one creature’s cells produces warmth, while the other simply remains the temperature of the environment. Your flushed skin seared itself into his, icy and hot mending together to create an equilibrium.

Of course, a good husband would warm his wife up. Alhaitham runs his cool palms along the length of your plush thighs and leg, absorbing the warmth as his own, soothing the shivers and goosebumps on your skin. Every now and then boldly creeping up the sides of your waist to twist at your perked nipples, enjoying every jolt and whine.

“Oh? Since when was this transparent?”

A firm hand grasps your chin, directing your vision towards white lace panties, the fingers on his other hand tracing over the shape of your cunt through the soaked fabric. Another lovely whine left your lips, face burning even more as you weakly protested in his hold, too powerless to do anything.

Skilled digits honed in on the nub that made your body jolt away, rubbing the faintest of circles over the delicate fabric, your legs trapped by his robust arms standing no chance to preserve your shattered dignity. As such, you had to follow his desires tonight.

“Or are you excited just by a few fleeting touches? What a lewd bride you are.”

It seems that you were telling the whole truth when you exclaimed how much you liked his voice, his finger could feel the slick that began to seep through the lace. Brushing the fabric to the side, Alhaitham allowed his middle finger to collect the slick along your slit allowing the rest of his digits to warm up against your cunt’s soft mounds. His throat felt parched as the sweet scent teased his nose, but now was not the time, maybe later in the night.

“Will you be honest?” The heel of this palm freely pressed against your clit as his middle finger continued to run up and down your wet lips, every now and then almost slipping.

Your body couldn’t hide its eagerness, hole clenching at nothing every time his finger passed by. However, he needed confirmation from you. Communication is important in a contract no?

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’ll be honest.” You pressed your back flat against his chest, trying to hide your face but his firm hold wouldn’t allow it.

“Good girl, then tell me what you desire.” His crisp breath provides your searing skin some relief.

Your plush lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes shut, cheeks heating up even more. It wouldn’t be good if you passed out from heat exhaustion so quickly. He grinds his palm into that sensitive nub, tormenting the answer out of you, nectar now dripping onto the sheets below.

“I want to c-cum,” You breathed out.

How direct, close but it wasn’t what he was looking for.

“You have to be more clear with your instructions, how do you want to cum?”

“Y-your fingers.”

“Good girl.” Finally, his finger breached your soaked entrance.

Pulsating walls welcomed him with unyielding squeezes, dragging his soaked digit further. Your sweet moans and whines resounded through the spacious suite, the volume of your voice directing him toward that spongey spot deep within. You were wet enough for another finger, so Alhaitham adds another, two digits stretching and exploring your soaked cavern.

“Mmmh! T-there!” Your toes were curling.

“Mmm.” The hum vibrated in his chest as his fingers went hard at work, thrusting into your quivering walls.

Each time his palm would slap against your clit your honest hole would clench down so endearingly. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, the muscles in your leg tensing up more and more. It’s obvious that you were close, but before he fulfilled your demands, he decided to be proactive and prepare for the next step.

Releasing your chin from his grasp, allowing your head to lull back against his shoulder. Alhaitham reaches between your bodies, hands never pausing their pace, swift fingers undoing the confines of his trousers. Allowing for his member to lay right against your back, the jolt of your body at the foreign object pressing against you made his hunger worse.

“Did you get more turned on? You’re clenching down tighter, did you want it that badly?”

Even if your eyes refused to meet his, the way your hips grind against his length, warming it up, told him all he needed to know. Your gummy walls constrict more around his fingers, it’s time to wrap up this scene, the next one is even more exciting. So his palm now digs into your clit, circling the now swollen bud in combination with his finger pressing against that nice spot deep inside.

“C-cummin-”

How cute, he didn’t even need to ask you to announce it. Letting your body ripple with the force of the orgasm, trembling limbs within his solid hold. If he was merciful, he would’ve continued to slide his fingers in and out, or maybe continue to caress your little nub, guiding you back to reality. However, hunger doesn’t allow for mercy.

Removing his soaked digits away from your pulsating cunt, teal eyes observing the transparent strings that clung to them with amusement. A small appetizer wouldn’t spoil the main meal, skilled tongue cleaning his fingers of your slick. Your head still limp against his shoulder, eyes rolled back in the throws of pleasure. To bring you back down to earth, it's best to use a new type of force.

Effortlessly, your hips were lifted up dripping cunt lined up with his impatient length below. In one fluid motion, your walls encase everything, drenched cunt giving no resistance as his tip kisses the spongy spot. Alhaitham lets a hiss escape him, it was as if he thrusted into the sun, your walls quickly bringing his member up to its temperature.

From your lips another moan was ripped out, oh it seems that you’ve plummeted back to reality. Your cunt trembled yet gripped onto his cock like a vice, coaxing him to go in deeper, encouraging his hunger to abuse your gummy walls even more. Barely riding out one wave of pleasure before another drowned you.

The hunters at your wedding could stick to your side the whole celebration, they could glare at him all they wanted, and they could try their damndest to keep the vampire at a distance. However, it was all efforts wasted in vain. For it was you, the blushing bride, who walked straight into his arms in the end, so open and receptive.

As he slides out just the slightest bit, your cunt protested by desperately clamping down, begging for his thick girth to stay in. In response he tightened his grip on your hips, lifting your body back up before bouncing you back down. What a glutton for pleasure you were, even as your little mouth whimpered and babbled, your walls thanked each slap of his hips with squeezes.

Sadistic hunger wanted more, to thrust deeper, to bully that poor spot inside of you over and over again with his thick tip as your walls stretch to accommodate the girth. His thighs collected the mixture of sweat and slickness from your body at each thrust. Your fingers dug into his hands, fingers white as you tried to grasp at anything to ground yourself.

“F-fast, too m-much.” There was drool escaping the corner of your parted lips, eyes barely back from seeing the inside of your head.

“Oh? Do you want me to stop?”

Alhaitham grinds to a stop, member still pressing deep inside you as he pulled you closer so his breath could ghost over your nape. In an instant, your mouth and cunt protested, you should be more clear with your instructions.

“N-noo.” Crying over the ruined tension.

“No? You wanted this.” His finger finds its way back to that swollen nub, flicking it a few times to watch the jumps of your body.

“If I let you cum, then I’ll do it my way, is that clear, my bride?” Tormenting your clit with firm circles.

“Yes! Please! P-pleasee.”

So weak against his voice, the sweet calls of a beast to lure you into the depths of depravity. Such is the fate of a shameless bride. Thus, his hips sprang back into action with renewed vigor. One hand keeps your hips still and the other remains on your clit to force that knot to reappear deep inside you.

Nothing but nonsense and moans babbled from your loose face, nectar dripping down to his heavy balls as they slapped against you with each pistoning of his hips. Your frantic hands entangled themselves into ash-mint locks as he felt gummy walls closing in tighter and tighter, your toes curling at the end of spread legs. Sinful slaps increased in frequency throughout the room as did the pace of the finger on your clit.

Your tense body held the warning of another storm, another fall off the edge into the depths. Alhaitham brushes his nose up your nape, the floral scent didn’t distract him from the goal laying just behind the skin. Your nerves were exhausted from the shooting pleasure, now was the perfect time to finally get his share. It’s only fair.

Prepping the area with a slow lick as his hips continued their brutal pace, incisors brushed against the delicate skin before piercing through. His hand shot up from your hip to your neck, a loose grip holding you still as your body tensed then violently shivered. The frenzy clamping of your cunt on his length was proof of your fall. Loose jaw uttering out broken moans as tears dripped down your chin.

The fresh scarlet flooded over his tongue and down his throat as Alhaitham continued with his slow suckling. Ah, you were very much like a flower, so delicate, so fragrant, and so bittersweet. It’s been almost a century since he last tasted the real thing, his body celebrated by filling your walls with thick release. An equivalent exchange of some sort.

A human body is quite frail, losing over two pints of blood borders on fatal territory. It’s not good to deplete a resource so quickly. Alhaitham releases your neck, running his tongue over the wound to seal it up. Teal eyes checked your complexion to ensure his measurements were accurate. Cheeks still with a healthy red flush as your chest heaved with pants, eyes glistening with tears. Such a shameless sight. He allows your head to roll onto his shoulder.

The rhythm of your heart settles back to its resting state as Alhaitham analyzes the taste he just experienced.

“I love you,” you breathed into his shoulder.

Alhaitham stiffens, the herbal aftertaste of your blood was bitter, the tang dried out his mouth causing a drawn-out pause. This is no good, he can’t miss the cue to say the line a bride longs to hear from her groom.

“I love you too.”

The choir of crickets from the world outside filled the void along with your pants.

“Pfft! Maybe let’s not say that, it’s too weird.” You shamelessly laughed, lifting your face from his skin.

What a relief, at least you seem to still have sense. Such words felt forcefully wedged into a script that wasn’t written for it. Might as well remove the line altogether. Moving on from the scene, Alhaitham lets you enjoy the warmth reflected off his body by yours.

It’s in the clauses to allow you to enjoy all aspects of marriage, so enjoy this honeymoon segment.

“Haitham, can you carry this for me please?”

“Haitham, I can’t reach, can you get it please?”

“Haitham, let’s have panipuri tonight!... Can you cook it please?”

It would’ve been better if he remained nothing more than just a decoration. It would’ve been easier if he was just a view for you to see behind glass. Perhaps Alhaitham’s acute eyes misread the contract, did you want a husband or just a maid?

Instead of sitting down in his own house to enjoy a book, he finds himself saddled with domestic responsibilities.

Must you call on him for everything?

Laundry and groceries aren’t that heavy. If you can’t reach the top shelves with the duster, then just get a chair. No ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ could prevent the downward tug of his lips every time you call him that doltish name. Your justification of a ‘nickname’ between lovers was moronic.

“Huh… Haitham how come you only use salt?”

Why do you make a creature who doesn’t consume such foods cook them? You’re more than capable of cooking for yourself every day. Although, Alhaitham would prefer it if you stopped using such overly fragrant herbs and spices.

Of course, when two breaths occupy the same space, there are bound to be pieces that don’t fit together, just as two breaths never sync. Alhaitham already factored those into his decision, but this was more proof of why a theory is always second to application. How troublesome the reality of marriage is, no wonder divorce rates are so high.

A good actor knows how to stay in character, so he’ll keep these thoughts to himself. Just as he lists your quirks silently.

One, you’re capricious. One moment silently enjoying a drama on the TV you asked him to purchase, body hogging the entire expanse of a couch. The next, you’ll be humming as plates and cups clatter in the sink, or the heavy thumps of your steps as you bound through the house with a mop. Alhaitham prefers it when you’re stationary, at least it doesn’t disturb his reading.

–

Two, you drink tea, an unfathomable amount of it. A warm cup always nestled between your fingers, bitter water mixed with honey. The herbal tang finds its way into your blood, making it taste like medicine. Thus, Alhaitham treats it as such, medicine just to alleviate suppressed bloodlust taken in moderation.

–

Three, you wanted to celebrate everything. Each square of a calender marked with scribbles. Why celebrate a celebration that’s already past? What is so special about a birthday? The past two years you purchased the same bundle of pungent flowers that made up that bouquet on that day to gift to him.

“Don’t you want a taste? I saved a slice just for you. Oh, would you eat it if I sprinkled some of my blood on it?”

Alhaitham swiftly accepts the plate from you, lifting the fork of overly sweet birthday cake into his mouth. Useless carbs take up space in his body, but such a thing causes no harm. Better to taste like pure sugar and not medicine.

–

The worst quirk of yours? You rise as soon as the sun greets the sky, adamant to not miss a single second of a day. Every day’s itinerary is filled with spur-of-the-moment decisions, such as going to a farmers market only open on Saturdays between the hours of 9 am and 2 pm. And how you drag him along.

Curses, only a human would drag a creature of the night into the day. What sadistic creatures, delighting in others' misery, you’re no exception.

“I thought you said vampires aren’t like how TV depicts them.” Curious eyes observe his slouched figure.

Vampires aren’t like how those dramas of yours depict them. No formal invitation to cross wooden thresh holds, no garlic braids as an effective shield, and no turning into a pile of ash at the mere rays of a star.

If so, then vampires would’ve been long gone by now. However, just because the sunlight can’t kill a vampire-

“It doesn’t mean it’s not unpleasant.” His stoic voice was too tired to add a bite.

You continued to stare at him with wonderment, as if what he said was the most complex theory known to the universe. Those dramas must’ve rotted that mind of yours, he concludes. You’re beyond saving.

“I see.” Gentle hands lift the excessive sun hat from your head.

Reaching on your tiptoes you place it atop his head, the straw brim providing some reprieve for his irritated skin. Shuffling the hat around until it’s securely nested along his now trussed ash locks. Satisfied, you lower yourself back down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. We can go home..”

Tenderly, your hands clasped around his, guiding him into the shade. The whole walk your hands never left his, eyes always searching for the next patch of shadows to lead him into. For the rest of the weekend, you just watched your dramas, the sensation of guilt must’ve muted your voice.

Good. He celebrated this rare break in his library away from you.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. Monday night rolled around again, as he passes the living room, he spots your loafing body napping on his couch as the TV acted as white noise. Tsk. Regardless, it’s time to get to work, he walks toward the front door.

“Wait,” came a soft command, dripping with sleep.

From around the corner, your figure comes stumbling towards Alhaitham, his hand still firmly on the knob. Hands busy trying to rub the fatigue away from your eyes, blinking away the pleasant dream you were just in.

Why did you abandon it? Alhaitham doesn’t know.

Your frame reaches his, transferring some of your warmth to him, arms outstretched towards his neck. Teal eyes don’t miss the way your drowsy legs were wobbling. To prevent any accidents, he supports your body with an arm around the waist.

Just as he feels your body steady, clammy palms encase the sides of his face. Pulling it down as your supple lips pressed against his cool cheek. Did you traverse all the way from the sofa just for a kiss?

“Have a good night at work.” Your shameless smile beamed.

A habit formed from one of your dramas, a wife bidding goodbye to her husband with a sweet kiss to boost his spirits. Curiosity must have gotten the better of you, or maybe you wanted to amuse yourself, two possibilities Alhaitham devises.

–

“So, how’s married life treating you?” Kaveh’s smug tone grated against his eardrums as the blond rested an elbow on the bar table.

Alhaitham couldn’t stop the frown from forming, nor the heavy sigh, so he took a hearty sip of his wine. Emptying the glass in one fluid motion.

“Heh, I see you’ve been enjoying the spoils of marriage very much,” Tighnari snickered.

“Sure, if you wish to see it that way.” Alhaitham’s hand found itself pouring another glass.

It seems that everyone around the ashen-haired vampire was enjoying the spoils of this odd union, everyone but him that is. His miseries fueling the chaff nature of his acquaintances, still he needed a reprieve to drink.

Not that herbal blood of yours, but something actually palatable like the fragrant wine washing the frustrations down his throat. It’s not marriage, it’s having to work overtime.

“Regardless, you signed a contract, you must uphold the clauses.” Cyno’s scarlet eyes leered over the rim of his glass.

Alhaitham sighs, he should’ve drank alone.

–

The tavern wasn’t a far journey away from his house. The deep hues of night slowly shift to the youthful flushes of dawn. He’s been drinking for quite some time, it didn’t matter, alcohol has no effect on a body such as his.

Alhaitham twists the key, the door creaking ajar just to reveal your figure with arms crossed. Disappointment ever so clear in those eyes of yours.

“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your tone.

After a few hours of reprieve, Alhaitham is welcomed home with an interrogation. Wonderful. Why should he answer this meek creature standing in front of him? He could just walk to bed and get the rest he deserves.

‘You must uphold the clauses.’

Right, Alhaitham has to play the role of a husband, he signed a contract, too late to just burn the papers now.

“I went drinking with coworkers,” he curtly answers.

“Why didn’t you call beforehand?” Your head tilts, disappointed eyes still honed on him.

Why does he have to inform you of his every movement? Who were you to demand so much of his individuality? Alhaitham couldn’t help the frown that reappeared, directed at you, the hurdle that blocked him from entering his own home.

The grandfather clock counted the seconds in the background, two sets of eyes locked in a stare-down. One frowning and one disappointed. How long will this last?

Your shoulders slumped as a sigh left your lungs. Eyes finally finding rest behind two heavy lids.

“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed.

Your back straightens again as you lean in closer, eyes recentering on his towering form. They no longer held the burden of disappointment, they twinkled with something else.

“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.

“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call. I got worried.”

What wasted concern, why worry for an immortal creature?

“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either, but if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text. So I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.”

Alhaitham scans over the discoloration hanging heavily under your eyes. An unpleasant sensation crawled up his spine. Phone shut off by habit, unaware of how you were losing sleep as he emptied bottle after bottle. He has to remedy the situation now, it’s what a husband should do.

“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers.

Is he allowed back into the confines of his own house now?

Your hands were now positioned defiantly on your hips, brows quirked up as if expecting something more.

No.

“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted.

The magic words to finally open the path into the house, words that finally returned that grin to your face. Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek.

“Welcome home, Haitham.”

Ah, he knows what that twinkle in your eyes was, sincerity.

Audiences rarely see the behind-the-scenes of a movie, with directors always handpicking which mistakes are charming enough to be shown as a blooper. Audiences don’t see the multiple scenes filmed then refilmed, they can’t experience the long hours, and they don’t know how many times lines were misread. Three years is enough time for actors to learn their lines.

“Is my drama too loud?”

Alhaitham peers over the top of the journal, focusing on your face peeking through the entrance of his library. Judging by the apron, he guesses it's almost time for dinner, the dialogue playing on the TV was just above a muffle from here.

“It’s fine, remember to turn on the kitchen hood.”

“Okay, which wine did you want to baste the meat in?”

“Top left, how long will it take?”

“Pfft, famished already? 15 minutes, you won’t waste away in that time right, Haitham?”

The ever-so-adventurous palate of yours and the ever-so-drab palate of his. An unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, two existences that bend and twist each other until equilibrium. Equilibrium in the form of a steak basted in red wine, rare for him and medium for you. A dinner that could be enjoyed by both breaths.

–

“Oh?” Your bewildered eyes blink at the bouquet presented to you.

A wrapped box held tenderly in your hands. Alhaitham had taken note of a certain scribble marked on the calendar, it was he who got the fourth bouquet. Placing an order ahead of time to ensure the freshest flowers.

“You said they smelled bad.”

“I’m used to it.” A half-truth.

Your lips couldn’t suppress its toothy grin, balancing the box in one hand as the other accepts the bouquet.

“Since you have every book in existence, I got you something else.” You nudged the wrapped present toward him.

Unraveling the decorative paper his eyes were greeted by the sight of a carved figure of a… what is it? Meeting your eager gaze, the quirk in his eyebrow told enough.

“It’s a hawk, I saw in storage that you used to collect these decorations.”

Ah, you found a petty hobby he had decades ago to torment a certain someone. A figure serves no practical purpose in a home, but the eagerness of your eyes was enough to find the endearing gift a place on a shelf.

–

“How does one make their blood tastier?” You pondered into his embrace.

His tongue traveled up the nape of your neck to collect the escaped drops of scarlet and to close up the wound. Your bare skin pressed against his, rising his temperature to a pleasant warmth.

He could feel every shiver as his length shifted within your overstimulated walls, recovering the overwhelming pleasure experienced just moments earlier.

What an obvious answer, stop drinking that tea of yours. However, Alhaitham prefers when you have the energy to trot through crowded walkways at dusk with him in tow. Bittersweetness is an acquired taste, one that took him some time.

“Since you have enough clarity to ask questions, I’m assuming you’re up for another round.” His husky breath ghosts over your ear.

“Wait~ I’m still sens-Ah!”

–

Over time, something as short as five years, even a trickle of water can crave a home for itself in the rocky foundations of the earth that’s existed since the dawn of time.

The side of the polished dinner table with the clearest view of the TV was your side.

The mug left in the sink with the faint aroma of tea and sweet honey was your mug.

The couch with cushions misshapen and molded by repeated use was your couch.

Such is the lull of domestic reality, each kiss at the door to bid goodbye and each kiss to welcome him back.

Nothing, not even immortality, is resistant to time.

Due to the crowd you’ve built your circle from, hunters were semi-frequent guests at his home. Much to your delight and his dismay. A husband should get along with his wife’s friends.

“Your complexion has gotten paler.” Candace’s heterochromatic eyes narrowed, her hands turning your face from side to side.

“Mmm, I haven’t been going out during the day as much.” Resting the weight of your head within her palms.

“Bullshit, he’s been using you like livestock,” Dehya snapped.

“Mmm? Not really, he says my blood taste like leaves.” Halfheartedly lifting your face out of Candace’s warm hold.

“Don’t cover for that bastard,” the Flame-Mane hunter scowls.

“Need I remind you ‘that bastard’ is still in the room?” Alhaitham breaks his silence.

“Who said you could speak?” Sapphires clash with beryls.

“Who’s home are you currently guests in?”

Even without glancing down, Alhaitham could tell that Dehya’s hand was twitching to reach for the silver dagger hidden up her sleeve. The hand then falters back down, Candace must’ve also noticed, steadfast eyes sending a warning to the other hunter.

“Of all people, why did you have to marry this vampire?” Dehya turns to you exasperated.

“Mmm,” you hummed.

With the finger pressed against your lip and your eyes wandering up towards nothing, Alhaitham couldn’t tell if you were deep in thought or just faking it.

Your pondering filled the room with silence, three pairs of eyes intently trained on your frame. Eyelids closed as you deepened your thought. After a few beats, they fluttered back open.

“Because he’s just too handsome.” There’s that shameless smile again.

The disgusted expression that plastered itself all over the hunter’s face at your response almost pushed a quiet laugh from his lips. However, Alhaitham wanted to avoid a physical confrontation from starting in his house.

If there’s one virtue you have, it’s that you’re a fair person. You perplex your friends and husband to equal degrees.

It’s now time for the hunters to start their night, much like how Alhaitham will soon report to the office. The two women and you were now at the threshold of the door bidding goodbye, their skeptical eyes every now and then glaring behind you at the vampire.

“Oh, one more thing,” your voice perks up.

Arms encapsulated two sturdy frames, pulling them close against yours.

“I love you guys.” Your words make the two robust warriors take a sharp inhale, bodies tensing up momentarily.

“We love you too, very much.” Candace’s voice forced itself to steady.

“Yeah.” Dehya pulled you closer.

After a few beats, you pulled away from your friends. Lighthearted grin lopsided on your face.

“Alright then, stay safe out there,” you chimed, waving at them.

After their figures disappeared from view, Alhaitham shut the oak door. You still peered out the curtains, daydreaming something as the stars reflected in your eyes. He observes for a moment before he collects the cups and dishes that once held tea and sweets to entertain bygone guests.

You were already surrounded by love, genuine love. Why did you sell your soul to experience something you already had? Alhaitham will save that question for another day.

Would you try saying that line to him again? Maybe this time he read his line without hesitation.

–

Alhaitham’s heavy lids shot open. The unwelcome greetings of morning birds signaled the time of day. Keen eyes scanned over the empty space beside him, sheets still trussed in the shape of a smaller figure. The bird songs rang like sirens, heightening his senses.

For once his ageless body left the bed without protest, swift steps pattering through the dim halls until the backyard came into view. Sunlight poured in through the open door, the wooden mounts perfectly framing your slumped figure.

Tired body balancing upon the basket of damp laundry, halfway from the backdoor and clothes line, you stopped to take labored breaths.

Swiftly he was by your side, towering stature blocking you from the harsh rays. Alhaitham lifts your fatigued body from the ground, giving your aching legs relief. Even with the sun hanging high in the sky, your skin didn’t absorb an ounce of warmth.

He takes you to the safety of the dim house, settling you onto the soft cushions of your couch.

“Don’t push yourself.” Alhaitham shifts a few pillows behind your back.

“I wasn’t, the laundry needs to be hung,” you huffed.

“Just call for me.”

You sounded out a whine of protest, but your breathing steadied. Alhaitham moves to stand back to full height, ready to finish the task awaiting out in the sun.

“Wait,” came your soft call.

Plucking your favorite sun hat off, you bestowed it upon unkempt ash locks still dusted with sleep. Fussing with the oversized straw brim until it stayed in place. Once satisfied you beamed, fingers caressing his smooth cheeks before placing a peck from curled lips.

“Thank you, Haitham.”

Adamant hands smoothed over the damp clothes, ensuring that they didn’t dry on the line with wrinkles that stayed stubbornly. The morning rays felt like sand against his exposed skin, but the hat bestowed upon him made it tolerable.

–

“It’s dusk, would you like to stroll through the market tonight?” Beryl eyes inspect the curled figure of his wife among cushions and blankets.

“Mmm, maybe not tonight.” You sink deeper into your couch, drama long forgotten.

“I see.” Alhaitham moves to the armchair just adjacent to you, a frequent perch of his now.

“Come here?”

Just as you finished blinking Alhaitham was by your side again. Slowing lifting your upper body just off the cushion, you pat the now free space, welcoming him to sit. He wouldn’t be a good husband if he were to deny such a request. So he sits.

Once the ashen-haired vampire was fully situated, your head found its place upon his thighs.

“Lap pillow,” there was that giggle of yours.

Alhaitham sighs, but he couldn’t prevent the corner of his lips from curling up, so he hides it with his book. This must be something you learned from those dramas again. He’ll humor it.

His cool fingers run along your scalp as his teal eyes switched between your resting face and the words printed along the aged paper.

Maybe not today, perhaps tomorrow when the rays of a selfish star kiss your cheeks.

–

The drinks were served quietly, the tavern didn’t seem as lively tonight. Perhaps because it’s the busy season, Spring air carries with it the signs of renewing life and tax forms.

“So, how is she, the wife?” Kaveh traverses the stagnant air.

What a redundant question, Alhaitham knows they can smell the fragrance lingering on his body from you, the aroma of flowers only found in a garden beyond a line immortals can cross. The scent of an ending journey.

“I’ll send some more Kalpalata Lotus tea, one cup a day should help with lethargy.” Tighnari prescribes, making a mental note to prepare the delivery once he returns home.

“Thank you, how much would I owe?”

“None, just a gift for your wife.”

Alhaitham hums in gratitude, and the table continued to play cards placidly. Throughout the rounds, his teal eyes stole glances over to a dark screen.

The group dispersed at dawn, but it wasn’t long before Alhaitham acknowledged the presence behind him.

“Alhaitham.”

He only glanced over his shoulder at the tan vampire.

“Remember the punishment that awaits those who dare disturb the cycle of life.” A threatening crackle resounded from the curled fingers by Cyno’s side.

Alhaitham already knows and Cyno knows it all too well. After all, the privilege of a good true death was stolen away from the white-haired man many years ago. Cursing the shorter man to eternity. Thus, Cyno now spends eternity punishing those who dare break the most sacred law.

Alhaitham responds with a nod and with that the two men parted ways as the rosy hues of dawn dyed the sky. You’re probably in bed already, it’ll be his kiss to announce his return.

–

In an age where humans outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to obey mortal laws. The most sacred of laws, vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings. It’s illegal, it’s immoral even to curse such fleeting creatures with eternity.

However, vampires are creatures born outside the grace of god from the very start, lurking in the shadows of iconoclasm. What difference would it make?

It’s his night to make dinner, steak with red wine sauce.

What is the difference between blood and wine to the inattentive eye? The scarlet hues could be easily mixed. All it would take is a sprinkle, drops stirred into the fragrant sauce served over the juicy meat, for you to abandon your humanity. For the ticking of a grandfather clock to stop its hands.

Who wouldn’t want more time?

A scene from a night now long past resurfaces at the front of Alhaitham’s mind.

–

“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence after a moment of passion.

Your damp skin glistens under the moonlight, your chest rising and falling as the lust slowly blinks away from your eyes. Alhaitham’s hand on your back guides you down from cloud nine. You stared at him inquisitively, teal reflecting back to him as he remains silent.

Ashen hair tussled and scratches fading away from cooling skin, he awaits your answer, schemes manifesting.

You let out a hum, signing that you’ll humor his question this time, as your face rests against the pillow comforted by his woodsy scent.

–

If you had more time, he would have more time. More time to pick your brain. More time to search through the archives of your thoughts to decrypt you. More time to grovel at your feet for forgiveness after he rips the humanity away from your arms.

Alhaitham is a prideful thing, but he’s not a dense fool. He knows when an apology is necessary, insight gained from his time shared with you.

Teal eyes glance back behind him towards the living room, where your figure sat quietly, attention distracted by the pair of lovers on screen in the midst of a tense argument. Never once turning behind to glance into the kitchen, not one ounce of suspicion. The scene finishes.

–

“I was born a human.” Your lids opened again, meeting his beryl-like eyes.

Irises pure like the moonlight reflected in them. He hums in acknowledgment, fingers tracing mindless scripts into your tender back.

“I will die as one.”

He hums in confirmation.

–

A riddle he couldn’t quite solve to bypass the sphinx who guards the sanctuary of your mind. Humans are greedy creatures of conquest, always wanting more, always hungry for more. That’s why creatures like him exist and thrive, feeding into the natural greed of humans.

Every human wants more power, more money, more wisdom. Every human wants more and more and more. Every human, so why can’t you want more? It seems that the breeze who gallivanted into his office, proposing to him with a contract, won’t reveal her secret.

As it was outlined on the paper signed by two names, he shall honor your wishes for now until the end, such is the character of a husband.

Alhaitham runs his hand under the kitchen sink, shameless eyes watching as the water turns clear again, and as the skin closes up. A feature only a creature born outside the jurisdiction of god would have.

He finishes the meal with a few sprinkles of freshly cut herbs, serving the untainted sauce over juicy cuts of steak, one cooked medium and one cooked rare. He calls you over to the dinner table.

The average human life span has increased drastically in the past centuries, it’s now about eighty years give or take.

Still a mere fraction of the time held by vampires.

Eighty years, and yet you could only have a fraction of that. You could only offer him a sliver of a fraction.

–

“It’s been a while since you’ve fed, aren’t you hungry?” Your eyes peered over at him.

Alhaitham wipes the washcloth along your back from beside the porcelain tub, steamy water carrying the fragrance of Nilotpala Lotuses. The humidity of the bathroom made the shirt cling to his skin like a wet rag, but the moisture helped with your coughs.

“I’m satisfied.” Another half-truth, teal eyes scan for any signs of discomfort, he can bare it.

“Really? I’m sure my blood doesn’t taste like leaves anymore.” You rested your cheek again on the warm washcloth, eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights as you looked into his.

The gift by Tighnari sitting untouched in the corner of a cabinet. Perhaps you’ve gotten tired of the bitter herbal taste, or maybe because there wasn’t a point in drinking it anymore.

Alhaitham fought the urge to click his tongue at your brash humor, only you would worry about how you taste during the closing days of a contract. However, his lips couldn’t form a frown when you beamed at him like that.

–

On the path to work, beryl eyes landed upon a bouquet arranged with familiar flowers, the petals dyed by the rich hues of dusk. The florist was busy gathering up the displays to bring them back inside for the night.

“Excuse me, I’d like to purchase this bouquet.”

That night at the office, the staffed vampires crinkled their noses at the overwhelmingly floral scent that plagued the floor. Alhaitham just shut his office door, bouquet resting in a hastily prepared vase, such a thing won’t kill a vampire it’s such a minuscule issue.

“I’m home.” He locks the door after him.

Keen hearing not picking up the pattering of feet along the hardwood floor. Placing the flowers on the entranceway table along with his dress shoes, the ashen-haired immortal trekked through the halls, silence ringing in his ears.

Behind the solid bedroom lay his answer, turning the knob, Alhaitham feels tense muscles loosen as the steady melody of breaths resounded through the room.

You’ve been here since this afternoon, body now imprinted into the plush mattress. Still, your blood still runs and your chest still rises, even if there were faint hints of wheezing it was good enough. Quiet as a shadow, Alhaitham removes his blazer and tie before joining you under the sheets. He’s been craving sleep.

A timeless body doesn’t need sleep, ageless cells don’t require such downtime to recover. However, claiming that vampires don’t enjoy sleep would be a blatant lie. A calm way to pass the endless time offered by eternity, a nice way to escape boredom.

Or maybe it’s because sleep gives immortal creatures a taste of an experience they’ll never have. Peaceful expiry.

Teal eyes observe the ever-present curl of your lips before cool lips are pressed against your plush ones. A habit formed after six years. The flowers were still left at the door, but they’ll survive the night. Alhaitham will show them to you in the morning, and you’ll beam that grin at him in the morning.

–

Fresh flowers rested in a vase gifted by friends on the nightstand, the last flowers of Spring. The delicate blooms give way to the vibrant greens of Summer. Such a cruel season for vampires, with days so long and nights so short. A cruel season that offered your body no additional warmth.

Alhaitham’s hand brushes against the apples of your cheeks, your unconscious body protests in an instant with shivers and curls away from the thief stealing what precious heat you had. As if burned by fire, the vampire retracts his hand.

Right, he can’t be greedy. Teal eyes watch every tremor until his legs finally remembered how to walk. Pacing to the closet Alhaitham pulls the Winter covers out from storage, insulating your body with the thick duvet.

The layers form a barrier protecting you from icy touches as he smooths out the wrinkles.

When humans walk into a garden, their eyes are immediately drawn toward the most beautiful blooms. Watching intently at how the petals of the young blossom unravel, their senses enjoying the heavenly fragrance. It’d only be a matter of seconds before their inevitable greed takes over, and they wish to claim the flower as their own.

In this sense, the gods are no different than the mortals who were crafted in their image. Greedy to pluck the most beautiful blooms from the garden for their mere amusement.

Is that what went on behind the garden wall those born outside the jurisdiction of god couldn’t peer over? Alhaitham wonders if you’d answer this inquiry of his. However, if he wants answers, he’ll have to ask soon.

How should he say the last lines of this script?

Alhaitham ponders. There wasn’t a director to give a cue, no parenthetical to follow. Perhaps he’s entertaining such futile thoughts to distract himself.

With each wheeze of your chest, the itch in his palm grew unbearable. His thumb begged to dig its nail into the smooth skin until scarlet droplets trickled out. However, it never got its chance for soon your ailing fingers occupied the space, interlocking to halt its motion as gold rings clinked together.

“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice babbling with a giggle.

Alhaitham’s cool skin hogged your warmth, trying to permanently sear the temperature into itself.

“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” You craned your neck away with a deep exhale, exposing the vulnerable skin to him.

There’s nothing viler to a vampire than stagnant blood. Blood that no longer runs tastes rotten, cold blood is worst than bile. Your blood still ran warm, he could sense it. This time it was his incisors that itched.

Keen eyes don’t miss the way your nape prickled at the breath that ghosted over it as his lips parted. Your lids gently shut, bracing yourself. The incisors brushed against your exposed jugular, but they couldn’t break through the delicate skin. They wouldn’t. They just wouldn’t.

Like the cowards they were, they retreated. Alhaitham closes his lips, deciding to press a tender kiss on the spot instead. His free hand guides your head back into a comfortable position on the plush pillow.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back.” Your eyes were open again.

“I’m not holding myself back,” he spoke the truth, the whole truth.

You were born with blood, it’s only right that you die with it, Alhaitham concludes.

The ending clause of that contract be damned.

“What a silly vampire.” Your bell-like laughter twinkled in his ears.

Yes, he is. Even after all these centuries, Alhaitham realizes he’s still no better than a fool. A shameless fool. An idiotic hypocrite ready to stray away from the principles he thought he held firm. He’ll accept this verdict, he’ll continue this fool’s errand, if and only if you continue to giggle at his antics.

Outside the window came the dirge of Summer crickets, gentle crips accompanying your fleeting wheezes. Alhaitham shifts the thick comforter up your body, smoothing out the wrinkles as the soft warmth lulls you away.

Your still fingers in between the spaces of his, your head curled within the space between his nape.

Under the moon’s pure rays, lay two bodies atop soft sheets, curled towards each other, the fleeting warmth long dissipating. Atop silk sheets, one body envisions the two buried under cold dirt and not clean comforters with hands somehow still locked together. Deep under the garden wall.

Once the cruel sun creeps into the sky, and the night flees into hiding with her stars, Alhaitham will have to make a call.

He’ll have to speak with the receptionist on the other end, with their bright customer service greeting, and get a legal pronouncement of death. Then soon after that, he’ll have to arrange the transportation of your cold husk. He’ll have to lower you into the ground alone.

However, the morning is still hours away, the moon is still here to lend her quiet sympathies. So tonight, just for tonight humor his little daydream.

Fin~

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