#grass-embroidered

[thebeautifulbook]

THE GRASSES OF GREAT BRITAIN by Charles Johnson (London: Harwicke, c.1861). Illustrated by John E. Sowerby. Art binding by Hannah Brown (2021)

Bound in pale yellow bull skin with inlays in a variety of colors across the entire cover. Hand embroidered with 29 species of British grasses. The endpapers and doublures have numerous hand-colored grass seeds on them. The box is made from poplar.

source

[coconi]

FCG's backpack, which the Hells picked up after the explosion, probably still contains the green hoodie FRIDA got them 🥲🥲🥲

[cryptidroots]

Check out pal.humanity , operation olive branch , and even just your local shops and small businesses who are trying to help the world any way they can.

Even little amounts add up to making a big change; thank you to everyone who was able to donate, and thank you to everyone who interacts with and boosts content that can help good organizations make a difference.

[munitionsandsupplydepot]

Gotta catch 'em all!

[stopfunkinwmyheart]

[laurellerual]

Day 6: 5 year skip proceeds au

They elope in the night, fleeing into the darkness, into the forest, guided by the incessant howling of the wolves. 

It was an impulsive decision made out of fear of marching north, home, only to be separated again by stupid lords and their stupid games.

They take their oaths in the freezing air of a misty morning, under a big oak. The trees around them and the embers of the fire are their witnesses

They are not dressed in embroidered cloaks, but in tattered war banners and golden leaves. There are no wreaths of winter roses, wildflowers will do.

There is no silk gown to slip off, just old boots, rusty chain mail stolen from a corpse. There is no featherbed, deep and soft, just the grass crisp with frost.

[tanuki-kimono]

Soft summer nights themed outfit, pairing a black-ground kimono with tsuyu shiba (dewy grass), and most beautiful cream summer obi patterned with embroidered white and black komori (bat).

[bonniebird]

Helena's companion

Helena x Fem!Reader / Aemond x Fem!Reader

AN: Full on fix it fic. Started as Aemond x Reader but after the first episode I ended up just rescuing Helena. Not sorry. Hopefully people enjoy.

It hadn’t taken Aemond long to realise that people, for some inexplicable reason, assumed that the loss of one eye had robbed him of his peripheral vision in the other. It was how he had been able to read notes his grandfather assumed were just out of his eyeline or keep an eye on people who thought they were out of view.

Today was one such moment. Helena was sprawled across a thick blanket under the Weirwood tree of the Red Keep with her companion from the Reach. Aemond sat in the sun and studied the tree before him. Able to easily watch Helena and her friend without anyone questioning him. Aegon was otherwise detained and Aemond was taking advantage of not having him buzzing in his ear like a fat fly. Aemond was no fool, he was aware of your beauty. He just didn’t appreciate the lude way his brother admired it. Aegon would whisper about running hands over soft skin, the smell of your hair and the gentle fabrics running off your skin as you were undressed by rougher hands. Aemond stood abruptly to snap himself from such thoughts. The action drew the attention of the two girls under the tree but did little more to keep their curiosity as he awkwardly turned and retreated inside.

“Mother says that she had found more fabric in the colour you favour.” Helena said with a sweet smile as she laid her head back down on the long tube-like pillow. You turned your head away from Aemond’s retreating figure and smiled at her as you played with a long piece of grass, twirling it between your fingers, making it dance and spin. 

“I thought she could not?” You asked and Helena shook her head.

“The trader found out that she was looking for more. Grandfather has agreed to introduce him to someone in Old Town. He’s giving Mother enough for two more dresses.” Helena grinned and you beamed a happy smile at her.

“I shall not say a word about it until your mother tells me. She shall be happy to deliver the news after such hard work.” You said rather gleefully and Helena gave you an eager nod. The rest of the afternoon was spent whispering and gossiping about life within the keep until the sun became too hot and the two of you retreated.

Alicent came across the two as you walked, arms twined together and hands clutched. You smiled as you greeted her while Helena gave her mother the usual slightly over-eager greeting bestowed upon only a few people.

“Good afternoon Alicent.” You said and smiled, giving her the best curtsy you could while being clung to by Helena. Alicent smiled at you, a rare genuine smile that was an elusive sight from the queen nowadays.

“(Y/N). Helena dear, the children. They ask for you.” Alicent said and Helena nodded muttering that she would go to them. Helena let go of your arm but only after a promise that you would join her and the children after finding someone to bring food and drink to the room. Alicent watched her leave and then turned to tell you her news of the fabrics Helena had mentioned earlier.

“Helena has already told you.” Alicent said with some amusement. You crinkled your face and winced a little.

“She did. But she wished for me to keep quiet. She knows you worked hard and we wanted you to be the one to tell me. You know how Helena and secrets do not get along.” You said and smiled when Alicent nodded.

“Well. You will have new dresses soon. I am honoured to be able to find more of that fabric you love. I hear the maker has passed of old age. It is the last of it.” Alicent said as she walked with you to a clutch of maids. They each curtsied to Alicent who instructed them on what foods to take up to Helena before leading the way to Helena’s chambers.

“I shall have to save some of the fabric. I shall have your family sigil embroidered onto it as a keepsake. In case the dresses become worn.” You said and smiled at Alicent who seemed to appreciate the youthful offer. “Thank you.” 

“It has been my pleasure.” Alicent gave you another smile and reached out to squeeze your shoulder in a motherly way. She paused and frowned as if she had just remembered something. “You have not by chance seen Aemond?”

“He was with us earlier but he hurried off. I am not sure where he went.” You answered sincerely. Alicent nodded and thanked you when you promised to tell him she was looking for him if you saw him. She left you to continue your trek up the many stairs of the keep to Helena’s rooms.

“(Y/N)!” Jaehera cried as she saw you. She rushed to her feet and stumbled her way over to you, arms wide as she waited for you to sweep her up into a hug. Her little arms wrapped around your neck and she pressed her forehead to the side of your face as you joined Helena in sitting with Jaeherys. The boy was slowly reading a page of writing to Helena. It was obvious that someone had spent hours with him drilling into his head exactly what the words said and that he likely couldn’t actually read the paper. Helena beamed with pride all the same. You sat beside her, shifting the girl in your arms to your lap so she was comfortable. When Jaeherys finished you all loudly applauded. He looked rather bashful and shyly came to greet you.

“Very good.” You said with a smile and he nodded. 

*************************

Alicent frowned at you. If you had not known her as well as you knew your own mother you might think she was disapproving of you. She shook her head and gently pulled at the soft fabric of the unfinished dress that was draped over you.

“No. It… This fabric is the last of its kind and (Y/N) is one of the most important people to Helena. You can do better than this.” Alicent demanded and turned to a nervous group of seamstresses. They looked at you as if you could temper Alicent’s wroth. They did not seem to realise that you, one of the few truly loved by the woman, did not have the power to dissuade her passion when it came to your care.

“By my… your gr…” The eldest woman stuttered. Aemond entered the room and stood by the door as Alicent scolded the woman. He stiffened and looked attentive when Alicent called his name.

“Look at this. It’s wrong is it not. I can see through it for Seven’s sake!” Alicent gestured to you and you gave Aemond a shy smile as he frowned.

“It is somewhat revealing.” Aemond said quietly. Alicent nodded and started making a list of demands. When Alicent finally dismissed you Aemond offered his arm and a means of a speedy retreat saying that Aegon needed to speak with her.

“I thought it looked nice.” Aemond said. The two of you strolled the long corridors with no destination in mind.

“Thank you. I think sometimes your mother worries. She did swear to mine to care for me as she would Helena. Which is not to say that I do not appreciate the mothering.” You added and Aemond chuckled.

“It can be… overwhelming at times.” Aemond said and smiled as you stopped near one of the open corridors that looked out at the sea and laughed.

“I am glad we understand each other.” You confessed and looked out of the large window. A comfortable silence fell over you both. Aemond found himself staring at you. He often did but now he couldn’t help but admire the way you look in the sun. The light catching in your hair and lips slightly parted as you appreciated the breeze that relived the stifling summer for a moment. His gaze fell to your chest as you sighed appreciatively at the feeling before he looked away and scolded himself. His mind wandered and he was helpless against the flash of images that he tried not to linger on. Lips parted by sweet sighs, his hands running along soft skin, tangling in your hair. The way you could sigh his name.

“Aemond?” Cole’s voice jolted Aemond from his thoughts. When he blinked and looked around he realised that you were gone and Cole was calling him from the end of the corridor.

“What is it?” Aemond asked. Cole sighed and shrugged a little.

“The whore and her brood have arrived. It seems your brother plans to negotiate with her. He’s thrown your grandfather out and taken his position as hand from him. Your mother wishes for you to join him. Your brother says he will only allow you in there with him.” Cole gestured for him to follow and Aemond did just that. He could hear his mother hysterically shouting with her father in a room nearby. 

When he entered the room it was deathly quiet. Aemond was surprised that his uncle wasn’t at the table, instead, Rhaenys sat beside his half-sister. 

**********

“Mother…” Helena said slowly. She spoke as if she expected Alicent to descend into an uproar at any moment. Alicent was brushing poor Jaehaera’s hair and had become so unfocused that the poor girl began to look like a cat being pet too hard. Helena glanced at you as if she was unsure what to say but recognised that someone should rescue the child who, though happy to be fussed over, did look rather desperate to escape. “Mother I do not think you should worry so…”

“How can I not worry!” Alicent's voice cracked against the silence and made everyone in the room jump. Alicent sighed and put the brush down, allowing her granddaughter to flee to her mother’s arms.

“I do not think Rhaenyra will be as ruthless as you think she might be. Could someone so cruel make a boy like Jace? He’s very kind.” Helena said, trying to soothe her mother who sighed and leaned forward in her seat, cupping her head in her hands. It had been late morning when Aemond had been summoned to Aegon. It was now late in the evening.

“I… do not know what to think about anything.” Alicent muttered with reluctance as if it pained her to admit it. 

“I can read.” Jaeherys said in a tone that made it clear he thought he might be helpful and smiled. Helena thanked him for the offer but asked him to take his sister with the maids to get ready for bed instead. The boy took his sister's hand and led the way across the room to a door that led to the children’s bedroom.

“Aemond will not let Aegon get out of hand.” Helena said with certainty. After that, no one said anything else. Beyond the children coming and requesting good night wishes as an attempt to stay up later. After they were gone there was nothing else to do but wait. 

You must have fallen asleep at some point. You were still on the long bench seat you’d been sitting on with Helena but she was gone. The fabric she’d been embroidering was neatly folded and placed under your head with a pillow and you recognised the blanket that had been tossed over you as one of Alicent’s that she liked to use when she came to sit with Helena in the evening. Sitting up and looking around the room you spotted Helena and Alicent in one corner around a table while Otto and Aemond spoke rather frantically. When you sat up Alicent glanced your way and reached out to Aemond. He glanced at you, hesitated then nodded and walked over.

“Is everything alright?” You asked and Aemond let out a slow sigh as he reached out to help you to your feet. In your still sleepy state, you leaned heavily on Aemond who accepted your weight and helped you to the door.

“Mother does not want you to worry. She has promised to come to you in the morning.” He muttered as he seemed to decide it would be quicker to simply carry you. Ordinarily, you would have objected but you were so tired and everyone was so frantic you decided to simply sink into Aemond as he hurried to your rooms. Your eyes fell shut with the sway of Aemond’s body. There was a slight breeze but he sheltered you from it. You became aware of him settling you down in your bed but found your eyes too heavy to open. The blankets were pulled around you and then a small sweet kiss was placed on your forehead. You weren’t sure if you had imagined it or not, it was fleeting. A momentary brush across your forehead.

*********************

There was an uneasiness to the morning when you woke. It was so potent that you could feel it in the air. Deciding to wait a moment longer before getting up you rolled over, stuffing one hand under the pillow and relaxing again. The room was bright with morning sunlight but you were determined to make the most of the cooler hours knowing that it would be horrifyingly hot later in the day. 

A shuffling in the room made you snap your eyes open. You had a maid of your own. A young woman who had worked for your family but she always knocked and it was the same way each time. So much so that anyone who resided in the Keep knew it was her.

Sitting up you spotted Aemond. He was sitting up in a chair by the door, leaning against the wall. He looked as if he were sleeping but his hand still clutched the sword leaning against his leg as tightly as you would expect of a man ready to leap into action. His clothes were different from the ones he had been wearing when he helped you to your rooms. Even asleep he looked tired. You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.

The familiar knock sounded before your maid entered the room and greeted you quietly. “Has he been here all morning?” You asked her and she nodded as she hurried to pick out a dress for you.

“He came back in the night. He woke me and instructed me to pack in case you needed to flee. Something is going on.” She explained quickly. You nodded slowly and frowned as you followed her behind the small room divider across the room. She helped you change your clothes and fixed your hair so it would be neat and out of your face. When you rounded the room divider you found Aemond had woken and was standing awkwardly looking at the floor.

“I… did not mean to fall asleep.” He confessed. You smiled and assured him that it was fine.

“Will you tell me what has happened?” You asked and Aemond frowned. He sheathed his sword before stepping closer to you.

“I… Aegon has made some decisions that have worried my mother and grandfather. Mother wanted me to make sure you were safe.” Aemond said reluctantly. It was clear that was all he was going to reveal so you nodded quietly and followed him out of your rooms. You had expected him to lead you to Helena’s rooms. You usually had breakfast with her and the children before going on a trek across the keep to Alicent’s rooms to spend the morning with her. But today there was no excited sound from the children. The torches down some halls had not been extinguished from the night before yet. 

Instead, Aemond led the way to the hall where meals with guests were normally held. He hesitated and looked at the guards near the door. You didn’t recognise them though you only really knew the guards that protected you and Helena and a few that protected Alicent. He opened the door, allowing you in before him. 

To your surprise the hall was full. The long table had been laid up. On one side Aegon sat with Alicent and Helena. There was an empty chair, a comfortable one that was usually left for Otto. Another empty chair sat beside one of the twins. Helena turned in her seat and gave you a pleading look and a nod to the chair, silently asking you to take up vigil on the other side of her children. Aemond went to the other chair not bothering to ask where Otto was. When you were sitting you were able to observe the opposite side of the table. You recognised Rhaenys who was opposite Aemond. Opposite Alicent sat a familiar woman who shot her several sly glances when you thought she wasn’t looking and realised that it was Rhaenyra. You hadn’t seen her since Laena Velaryon’s funeral. Looking across the table you tried to recall the names of all her children. The girls, one sitting beside an older boy and the other with the younger boy. Him you remembered, Lucaerys. Aemond had returned to the keep convinced that he had killed the boy. Only to find days later that he had washed up on a beach. There was a rumour that a fisherman's family had found him and taken him in until someone recognised him and word reached Rhaenyra. The girl with him would be Rhaena. The other two Jace and Baela.

The breakfast was the most awkward dinner you had ever eaten in your life and you once attended a dinner during which Aegon had been so drunk he’d fallen from his chair and kicked a plate full of food at a guest as he tumbled to the floor. There was either a heavy silence or a question put out into the room that was really intended as a verbal stab. 

“Daemon could not join us?” Alicent asked. Rhaenyra’s face stiffened and she cleared her throat. 

“No.” She answered coldly. The rest of the breakfast followed much of the same. Despite the awkwardness, Jace nodded at you from over the table.

“Forgive me. You looked strikingly similar to a lord Terren Rane. His daughter looks just like you.” Jace said politely. You smiled as you gulped down your mouthful and found everyone staring at you or their plates.

“He is a cousin of my mothers. My parents are both kin to lords of the Reach.” You answered and Jace nodded. He glanced at Baela who gave you a kind smile.

“I met him not too long ago. He is a good man. I am sure your parents are the same.” Jace said and you found yourself giving him a flattered smile.

“Thank you Prince Jacaerys.” You muttered and quickly reached for your drink. He glanced at Baela again who gave him a more amused smile this time. Down at the other end of the table, there was a loud clanging and a thump as if someone had slammed their hand down on the table. Alicent could be heard hissing a whisper at someone, you assumed Aemond. The rest of the meal remained awkward with Aegon making a few attempts to chat with Rhaenyra. Once the children began to fuss Helena requested to take them to their room. The two of you hurried them out after a short nod from Rhaenyra.

“That was… interesting.” You said as Helena picked up Jaehera and you took Jaeharys’ hand when he refused to be carried. Helena nodded thoughtfully and led the way to the children’s room. As soon as you reached it the children hurried off to play with the carefully carved wooden toys. Helena sat down on the bench seat near the fire with a heavy sigh and leaned back in the seat. You slowly joined her and reached for her hand.

“Aemond has not told me what has happened. Beyond Aegon making a choice that had upset people…” You pressed and Helena fiddled with the rings on your fingers. She stared at the one that matched the one she wore before speaking in her careful way.

“Aegon. Feels a great amount of guilt. For what has happened between him and Rhaenyra. He sent a letter hoping for peace. Grandfather was furious but he… I think Aegon was right to do it. Rhaenyra found out about a plan… to kill one of us. It was planned before Lucaerys was found. Her people were able to interfere and Rhaenyra wrote back to Aegon to warn him.” Helena explained. You leaned in and let her lean her head against you. You were one of the few people that Helena allowed to embrace her something you were rather proud of. 

“Is that why she came here?” You asked with a rapt focus. Helena sighed and shook her head.

“Aegon wishes to negotiate the issues with the throne that is between them. He told her this before anyone could stop him and Grandfather was furious.” Helena said and then suddenly stopped speaking.

“Where… is Otto?” You asked. Helena stayed silent and sat up. You waited for her to find the words but her eyes simply filled with tears and she shook her head. She had a habit of seeming to leave her own body until she felt better. You knew not to push any harder and fetch the pile of embroidery Helena had been working on.

The next few days were uncomfortable at best. Otto had vanished and Alicent tended to check in on you and Helena several times a day, never explaining anything but fretting over you and then leaving. You hadn’t seen Aemond since the awkward breakfast and Aegon seemed to always be in the council room with his half-sister. What made everyone all the more nervous was the lack of explanation for Daemon and Caraxes’ absence. 

There was, however, one joy that you had discovered. Jace and Baela. They were kind and always eager to greet you. You would walk arm in arm with them as you strolled the corridors, which you did often when your rooms became too stifling or Helena had ‘a fit of upset’, as Alicent would call it, and was sent away from her rooms.

Jace made a quick study of what you liked and your routine and Baela filled you in on all she knew from outside the Red Keep. The pair insisted that when they were crowned as Rhaenyra’s heirs you should visit them.

“Is… is Aegon not…” You had stuttered out. Jace smiled warmly as turned, arm still linked with yours while Baela held your hand as you and Helena would.

“That is what he is talking to my mother about. Arrangements.” Jace said seriously but his eager smile never faltered so you found yourself smiling a little too.

“Otto won't be happy.” You said and Baela scoffed, swinging your hands a little as the group began its slow pace again.

“He has been imprisoned so I don’t think he’ll have a say.” Baela frowned at you when you let out a long huff.

“Is that where he has been?” You asked.

“Do they not tell you these things?” Jace asked and you shrugged.

“Aemond does.. usually, but I do not know where he is at the moment. Alicent picks what she tells me, she doesn’t like to scare me but usually Helena finds out anyway and tells me if Aemond doesn’t.” You explained nervously. Jace nodded and gestured to a seat towards a shaded part of the corridor. The three of you settled down and he began to fill you in on what had happened.

 Baela began explaining what her grandmother had told her. As it transpired Aegon had a falling out with Otto and shortly after a threat against his children had been discovered. Rhaenyra wrote the same evening saying the same thing. Despite evidence and Rhaenys’ insistence that it was Daemon that had made the arrangements no one could entirely prove it and Ageon slowly convinced himself Otto was to blame. After she finished she let Jace finish. Aegon had summoned his half sister and insisted on a negotiation. He wanted the lives of his siblings, mother, his children, himself and Helena’s friend. At this point Jace had paused and pointed out that Aegon had meant you. You found yourself a little flattered that your life might be valuable enough to beg for during a negotiation between two royals. He went on; explaining that Aemond had been sent to Dragonstone he and Vhagar were to help Corlys handle anyone who might rebel against Rhaenyra by sea and earn Rhaenyra’s forgiveness for almost killing her son and taking the life of Luke’s poor dragon.

“Does that mean the fisherman story is true?” You interrupted and looked at Jace curiously who smiled and nodded. “Oh! I must tell Helena, we were so happy when we heard Luke was found. The story was so odd no one here in the Keep was sure if it was true or not.”

Jace seemed pleased that you and Helena had worried for Luke but said nothing more about that and continued to explain. Aegon would stay at King’s Landing until Rhaenyra could trust him and Helena could come and go between the Red Keep and Dragonstone as she wished. 

“What about me… what about Lord Hightower? He was so kind to me. Is there not anything to be done?” You asked and Jace looked away. Baela rolled her eyes as if she thought Jace’s chivalrous inability to give bad news was ridiculous and answered instead.

“Rhaenyra gives little mind to where you go and what you do if you are going to support Aegon’s negotiation. As for Otto… She believes he is the reason her siblings turned on her, and that her childhood friend turned on her. There is little anyone can do to mend that.” Baela explained. The three of you talked well into the afternoon. There had been so much that you hadn’t been told. 

Finding yourself overwhelmed, you excused yourself. Having intended to go to Helena instead, you found yourself walking to your rooms as your mind whirled. Nothing felt safe now. Your stomach twisted and turned anxiously as you such in a shaky breath and let out a heavy huff of air that alleviated the pain of your anxiety for a moment before it rushed back in its horrid fluttering way. Making your way to your bed and lying down you thought over everything they had said. Perhaps you should take your leave and go back home. Though you had been at Helena’s side for so many years that the King’s Landing was home. Eventually, the whirring of your mind exhausted you and along with the heat dragged you into an uneasy sleep. At one point you were conscious of Helena calling for you and your bed jostling.

When you woke you found a Small foot on your pillow next to you. Sitting up a little you realised that Helena was asleep on one side of your bed, clutching your hand, while cradling Jaehaera against her chest while Jaehaerys slept sprawled out and his feet on your pillow beside your head. You stared up at the ceiling listening to the early morning noises. Scurrying of servants, the sound of birds and the city far below the keep. Jaehaerys woke up just enough to crawl around and tuck himself under your hand that was clutched in Helena’s and wrap his little arms around both of yours. He was back asleep before you could think to wish him a good morning. It was beginning to get warm when Alicent came to find you all. There was a moment of relief when she spotted everyone piled up and for a moment she looked as if she might join you.

“Helena was worried when she could not find you yesterday.” Alicent said quietly as she leaned on the side of your bed, reaching over to stroke her grandchildren’s heads.

“I had much to think about.” You said quietly. Alicent nodded and blinked several times as if she was trying to hold back tears.

“We all do.” She said quietly. With your free hand, you reached for Alicent’s. She squeezed your hand and sucked in a shaky breath before smiling at you and standing. “We need to prepare. Helena wishes to stay at Dragonstone while everything is settled here. I can arrange for you to return to your family.” Alicent smiled. Despite the warmth of it, the smile didn’t reach her eyes and made her look rather hopeful and empty.

“Can Helena not come with me? To my family's keep. It does seem only fair. I have spent so many years here.” You offered hopefully. Alicent let out an odd laugh as she untangled Jaehaerys from you and Helena and handed him off to a maid who stood by the door. It was cold and sharp, unlike the warm sounds of the morning. 

“If I had my way I would allow it.” She said somewhat bitterly. You looked at Helena. She was always rather ethereally peaceful. Gentle in an unnerving way. Looking at her now, she looked worn and tired. Guilt rolled heavily in your belly as you considered going home and flinging yourself into the arms of your mother. Helena would never think to leave you behind. From what Jace and Baela had said even Aegon had included you in his negotiations. You let yourself think of your family for a moment before letting out a shaky sigh.

“Then I will go to Dragonstone. If it is not inconvenient.” You said firmly. Grief shrouded you as you spoke the words but when you held Alicent’s gaze you knew you had made the right choice. The dowager queen looked as if a great weight had lifted from her shoulders.

“I will not be able to go with her. I must stay with Aegon. I am grateful.” Alicent said hurriedly. She stumbled in the hem of her dress as she rounded the bed and crushed you into a hug.

“Aemond will be there too. I shall take care of her. My uncle has a keep in the Crownlands not too far from Dragonstone by ship. I will have my father write to him, he should have no issue visiting.” You offered as comfort. Alicent gave a short smile before turning to Helena who frowned with an objection to being roused earlier than she was used to.

******************

The journey to Dragonstone had been uncomfortable. After being packed up into a large ship and seen off by Aegon and Alicent a storm had struck the sky open. The short boat trip had been a sickly one with all aboard becoming queasy because of the violent rocking of the boat. Once you had arrived at Dragonstone there was no one to greet you.

“Where do we go?” You asked and Helena shook her head as she lifted her cloak to shelter the children under it from the rain. There was a sound overhead and looking up you could just make out the shape of Vhagar and a smaller dragon among the storm clouds.

“Aemond!” Helena said rather hopefully. Turning to the servants standing next to the boat you called out.

“Stay with the ship. We shall go to Aemond and have someone come to fetch our belongings.” You gestured to the docked boat. The group nodded and fled into the ship. Picking up a child each, you and Helena hurried as fast as you could across the beach towards the dark shape of Vhagar circling in the air. The great beast landed and the heavy rain hid her from sight. The rain came down so heavily that it was quite a shock when Rhaena hurried into view from the murky darkness.

“Princess? Lady (Y/N)?” She said in surprise and hurried to guide you both towards a large cavern. Once inside you lowered your soaked hood and lowered Jaehaera to the floor, holding her hand tightly as you were led into the keep. Guards stood ominously along the corridors. Rhaena continued until you were quite lost and stopped at a door.

“These will be your rooms.” She said to you and opened the door. When you didn’t enter she smiled and tried to look encouraging as she added. “Baela asked our grandmother to send some furniture a lord from the Reach once gifted her. She thought it might comfort you… that is where you are from?”

“Yes. It is. Though I have been Helena’s companion for some time now. Most of my life in fact… Thank you all the same.” You said when Rhaena looked a little disappointed. “I have been away so long that it shall be nice to have a reminder.” At this, Rhaena beamed happily before continuing to show Helena where she and the children would stay. 

“We are sorry that you had to walk up the beach by yourselves. The storm hit rather a lot harder than we thought it would. We… weren’t prepared.” Rhaena explained.

“We cannot fault you for the weather.” Helena said in her gently wise way and smiled at Rhaena who nodded and looked pleased.

“I shall leave you to settle and fetch someone to collect your things from the ship.” She said by way of dismissing herself and hurried off and shut the door to Helena’s rooms behind her.

“Well. Here we are.” Helena said as she sat in a comfortable-looking chair that was carved to look like a furious dragon.

Settling the children was far easier than you had thought. Jaehaera was happy to settle down in front of the fire and play with her toys while Jaehaerys was content going about the room and greeting each carved dragon that he could see. Everything had changed. You longed to go back to the keep or to go home to your parents but couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Helena. 

“Perhaps Aemond will be able to see us.” You offered with a smile. Helena looked at the door thoughtfully and then nodded as if for now that hope would be enough to keep her satisfied.

[lydiadeetzgf]

Invisible String

Oscar Tully x Blackwood!reader

summary: This is the story of Benjicot's younger sister and Oscar Tully. Some would say it was of coincidence, others would say it was fate.

word count: 1.4k

warning: fluff

Author’s note: please let me know what you think of this in the comments! I’m always open to feedback!

Green was the color of the grass Where I used to read at Centennial Park I used to think I would meet somebody there

Blackwood Vale consisted of Raventree Hall and the Godswoods, with a large green pasture in between. The lofty, old stone walls of Raventree are covered in moss. The gate is flanked by two enormous square towers, and there is a square tower at each corner of the wall. It is further protected by a stone-lined, deep moat. There is a large timber keep and a filthy outer ward inside the walls. The solar of Lord Blackwood in the keep is spacious and bright, with enormous dark oak beams. Its walls are covered in wool tapestries, and its latticework doors, which have yellow glass windows fashioned like diamonds, gaze out over Raventree Hall's godswood. It has a chair with a high back. There is a massive, ancient, dead weirwood within the godswood. Hundreds of ravens arrive every evening around sunset and spend the entire night roosting on the dead weirwood, just as they have done for countless years. There is a view of two of Raventree's gates from a height overlooking a stream close to the castle.

Her father had asked her that day to get her brother Benji from the grounds by the Godswoods as it was time for their supper. Just nine name days y/n walked down the green pasters with her black dress with ravens embraided on the bottom. As she walked closer, she saw her Benji, who was only two-name days older than her, training with his friends. The two boys were her brother’s age. One had curly hair, the other straight.

“Benji!” She shouted getting her brother and the boys’ attention, causing them to stop fighting.

“What?!” he shouted back rolling his eyes that his little sister was disturbing them.

“Father says it’s supper and that you need to come back.” y/n said coming closer to face him. 

“Fine.” Benji started to gather his things. Y/n could feel eyes watching her as she face her brother. Once Benji gathered his things he place his hand protectively on her back gently pushing her back to Raventree Hall.

“Are you going to introduce us to your sister Benji?” The boy with straight hair asked smirking, “It would be rude not to.”

Y/n glanced to see Benji rolled his eyes and slowly turned to face the boys. She too turned to see them. The boy with curly hair stared at the girl with admiration in his eyes causing her cheeks to turn red. 

“Y/n this is Kermit and Oscar Tully.” Benji gestured to both the Tullys, “Kermit and Oscar, this is Y/n my little sister.”

“Hello.” She shyly waved at the two.

Kermit bowed, “Pleasure to meet you.”

Oscar didn’t speak but softly waved hello back.

Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs Were there clues I didn't see?

By the age of ten and one y/n and Oscar had always seem to end up near each other. One time y/n was in the library reading a book on the Old Gods when she heard the doors smack open. To her surprise Oscar was standing there out of breath. He quickly shut the door and ran over to her. He grabbed her hand and dragged her under the table.

“What’s wrong?” She asked. “Why are we hiding?”

“Mine and your brothers are chase me. They wish to throw me in the river as a happy name day present.”

“It’s your name day?” She smiled at the boy as he nodded shyly, “Happy nameday.”

“Thank you.” The two spend the rest of the afternoon talking under that table.

At the age of ten and two y/n have perfected her embroidery skills, so much that she started to embroider on her dresses. Y/n had a plain dark blue dress in her wardrobe that she wish to dress up for fun. She spent a whole month embroidering the dress for a festival at Riverrun. When the festival came around her and her family arrived at Riverrun. Entering the great hall, y/n noticed Oscar coming over.

“You have fishes on your dress?” Oscar pointed out. Y/n’s plain dark blue dress had be transformed into a dress with fishes dancing with ravens on the bottom.

“Do you like it?” she asked smiling at the boy. “I did it myself. I thought it was fitting.”

“Yes, its very beautiful.” He smiled back blushing, “like you.” He held out his hand towards her, “would you like to dance?”

The girl smiled and took his hand.

Another time was when y/n was ten and three she was walking the riverbank. The Backwoods were in Riverrun as her father had business with Lord Grover. “Y/n!” She heard a voice shout out behind her. The girl turned to see Oscar stumbling along the riverbank behind her, causing her to smile.

“What are you doing here? I thought you would be with my brother and Kermit?” She asked the boy confusedly.

“But I would much rather be here with you.” He smiled brightly. The two continue walking the riverbank enjoying each other’s company.

And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?

It was a sunny day in Ravenvale. Y/n was in her chambers getting ready excitedly, as it was her ten and four name day. Her maids were putting on her favourite red empire silhouette dress with an ivy pattern on the long sleeves. As her maid, Anne did her hair there was a knock on her door.

“Come in.” She invited whoever was at the door. The door pushed open to reveal a muddy Oscar Tully. “Oscar!” Y/n smiled standing up and walking closer to him.

“Y/n.” The muddy boy said out of breath.

“Why are you covered in mud?” She looked at him confusedly tilting her head slightly.

“I was in the grounds getting you this…” He caught his breath and brought his arm from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of flowers, lavenders, sweet peas and hydrangeas. “Happy name day, y/n.”

The girl took the flowers gently from his hand and sniffed them, “thank you Os. I love them.” She smiled at the boy, who was grateful she like them. Y/n handed the flowers over to Anne and asked her to place them in a vase by her bed. Oscar then said goodbye and ran off to find his brother and Benji. Leaving y/n to her own thoughts.

She realised that she was nearing the age in which her father would marry her of to some lord in some old castle that did not care or love her and only would use her to produce heirs for himself. She wished to be loved and cared for by some who she would love and care for, she wished for someone to grow old with. The more she thought about it, the more she knew who she wished to marry. She wished for it to be Oscar Tully, the boy who had been by her side since she was nine and onwards. She wished for the boy with curly hair who gave her flowers.

One single thread of gold tied me to you

On a cold autumn afternoon y/n was summoned to the main hall by her father. As she walked the Hall’s corridors, she got more and more nervous. Had she done something bad? Had Benji blame her for something he did and now she had to cover for him again? Is she finally being married of to an old, dying lord? When she near the door to the main hall the guards opened the doors and announced her arrival.

There stood her father and brother along with Lord Grover and Oscar, smiling and laughing. She looked at the gathering in confusion, “you wanted to see me, father?” she asked.

Her father turned to see her standing there and smiled brightly at her, “y/n! come greet your betrothed and his grandsire!”

“Betrothed?” she looked at Oscar, who sheepishly smiled at her.

“Yes, Lord Oscar Tully is to be your husband.” Her father explained. “We just finalised the arrangement.”

“Really?” She smiled at him. Once her father nodded to confirm, y/n ran at Oscar and hugged him tightly almost knocking him to the ground. Oscar chuckled slightly and hugged back. “I’m glad it’s you.” She whispered.

Once y/n was ten and seven and Oscar was ten and nine they had their wedding. It was held at Riverrun and all the noble houses of the Riverlands attended. After the two had said their vows, Oscar passionately kiss her, and she kissed back. As everyone cheered, her brother and Kermit whooping at the two, the happy couple Oscar swept y/n off her feet and carried her down the aisle.

[shibaraki]

THE VANISHING MOON ┊ TSUKISHIMA KEI

tags: GN reader, post timeskip, exes to lovers, fluff, emotional hurt + comfort, reader is a writer, alcohol consumption, mutual pining, getting back together, kisses, weddings, previous ‘mutual’ breakup, happy ending

wc: 4.2K

For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved love stories.

The first time you picked up a pen with the intention to write you’d been looking for a specific someone. To pour love into and be loved by. Conjured from the recesses of your mind, a soft smile from the boy you liked, one prepared to whisk you away from the converging angst that came with your adolescence.

In later years you looked inward, searching for yourself. To satiate your loneliness through self introspection. Ink blotted fingers working arduously at the knots that make up the soul. Knots that were once straight rope, simple and without weak points. And when you failed to love yourself you turned outward, exploring the web that made up the world.

You saw that other people loved stories, too. That there would always be at least one which speaks to them in some way and stays with them. You coveted that reality; to be something another person could love, and look back on with fondness. For your words to strike such a chord that they’d become part of another’s tapestry. To live on. Never again be forgotten, even if it means being an echo of something.

That yearning accompanies you up the cobbled footpath. The crisp air pinching the tips of your ears. Soft, muted chirps rippled throughout the treeline. “Wow,” you murmur, breathless. Arms sticky with perspiration, leg muscles tingling in exertion after walking the steep hill.

The reception venue sits on the end of a private road, concealed by threadbare canopy. Under an open sky there lay every shade and stroke of colour. Dappled sunlight casts shadows across the grass and your eyes are drawn to them.

“Wow is right. They’ve done an incredible job,” Sugawara airs his appreciation as he walks at your side. His voice is awed, and his cheeks are red. “I can’t believe they managed it. Karumai Gardens are notoriously stingy for booking events”.

The wedding invitation shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Remaining some of your closest friends, Kiyoko and Tanaka had already confirmed your attendance long before the formal invites were sent out. You even found yourself on the end of multiple phone calls over the months assisting a panicked Tanaka with writing and rewriting his vows.

Despite that, your stomach roiled at the invitation on your kitchen counter, and your heart crawled up into your throat. Because suddenly it was too real.

Everybody would be there.

Tsukishima would be there.

You’ve been a high strung for most of the day, hyper vigilant to the point of fraying. The ceremony was beautiful. Kiyoko looked ethereal draped in her white lace gown, a delicate veil cascading down her back and rippling down the aisle as she walked. Tanaka was striking in his dark blue suit and embroidered waistcoat. Sitting at the forefront, you remained steadfast in your ignorance of Tsukishima’s scrunity and dabbed at your face as you cried.

You missed having his attention. Missed the subtle stroke of his sharp gold eyes across every part of you as though it were Tsukishima’s hands themselves. A scant, cowardly part of you considered not attending the reception, grateful that he hadn’t approached you yet. If he would at all. Kei could be unbearably prideful about these things. But what do you know?

Nothing. After all this time you probably know nothing at all.

“I think he wants to talk to you,” Sugawara says, drawing your focus to the present. “It’s obvious he’s missed you”.

You edge past the increasingly dense foliage with intent, your fingertips outstretched to brush the near-blooming plants. “Who?” you ask. Sugawara’s grin turns wry and he threads his arm through yours.

“So petty,” he murmurs, patting your bicep. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But he’s single, and has been staring at you all day. I thought I should mention it”.

“Well you’ve mentioned it,” you return without true malice, squeezing him back. Sugawara’s lips parted in a sigh, and for a brief second, you saw a wistful expression beneath the lighthearted veneer. It stirs unease in your chest and you add, “I just don’t want to make a scene”.

“You really think that’s what it’ll come to?”

Memories unearthed from the deep recesses of your mind. Packed away into tight spaces and left to collect dust where they can’t hurt you. They awaken easily, triggered by a simple question, and with such clarity that you wonder if you ever forgot them at all.

Soft, deliberate touches. Long, warm embraces, swallowed up by his large frame. Graceless laughter—the ugly kind that makes your stomach hurt. Languorous kisses, biting kisses, chaste kisses, clumsy kisses. Good morning and good night kisses. Bickering over breakfast. Bickering over dinner. Wandering, calloused hands. Pressure behind two fingers, splitting you like soft fruit. A sharp tongue and sharper words. Holding hands in bed, anchoring yourself to him like you were afraid he might float away in the night.

Life became busier than either of you expected. Kei landed an opportunity to play for a division two team in the V league alongside his work at the Sendai city museum. Your publisher's demands increased. Kei’s priorities shifted. Resentment crept in. He started to forget things. Small promises and favours, like getting the grocery’s or making it home for date night. They felt so significant at the time—things you deemed indicative of his commitment to you, without communicating as such.

Fractures formed in your relationship. You ignored them in favour of keeping the peace, hoping to address them when the timing was better. Only with hindsight can you say that was the wrong choice. The fractures contracted, expanded until it grew into a yawning cavity with one of you standing either side of it. A slow decay.

“No. No, it wouldn’t,” you tell Sugawara. Tsukishima has never been a shining paragon of virtue but he wouldn't do anything to disrupt Tanaka’s wedding. “I’m just nervous. I haven’t seen him since…”

Sugawara hums his acknowledgment. You’re adrift as he guides you into the venue holding the wedding reception, welcomed into a kaleidoscope of colour. Carefully crafted floral arrangements line the hall. Half of the building is a greenhouse conversion, and natural light filters in through the high, arching ceilings, illuminating the dance floor. You take in the surroundings as your senses are enveloped by the pleasant din.

“Look, there’s Yachi and Nishinoya,” Sugawara tugs on your arm and calls out, “Yachi! Noya!”

Nishinoya crowed, leaping forward to gather you and Sugawara into a blistering hug. Barely two extra inches on him yet larger than you remember, skin kissed by the sun and his hair handsomely coiffed. His waistcoat creases awkwardly with the stretch of his body while you sink into his warmth and feel your cheeks ache.

“Man, I feel like I could scale a mountain! It’s so good to see you guys again,” Nishinoya reclines to get a look at you both and firmly takes you by the shoulders. “You have a lot to answer for,” he says with mock seriousness.

“I do?” you laugh, skull knocking side to side as he shakes you.

“I read your book on the plane”.

Your laughter putters out. You grimace and clear your throat, “Oh—really?”

“Most of us have. We wanted to support you properly,” Yachi admits as she steps forward to hug you. She’s smiling when she pulls away, faint laughter lines deepening.

Sugawara nods and pokes at your waist, “Don’t look so embarrassed. It was amazing”.

“It made me cry!” Nishinoya effuses. He sniffs, and to your mortification he looks like he might burst into tears again. “There was this one line—gah, no! I can’t talk about it. Get over here, I need to hug you again”.

“Thank you, Noya-san,” you wheeze at the arms constricting around your midsection, eyes clenched shut to repress the impending sting. You turn your head, nose knocking against his temple as you peer at the others. “Thank you all. I mean it”.

Yachi squirms, her smile quivering. “I’m really happy you made it today,” she says once you’ve been released. The unyielding pressure of Nishinoya’s embrace lingers like two phantom limbs. “You too, Nishinoya-san”.

“It’s amazing you’re upright. I thought for sure the jet lag would get to you,” Sugawara laughs. He utters a quick apology to the server passing with a tray of drinks. “Didn’t you fly in from Barcelona?”

“Yeah. Should’a been heading to Andorra but I wouldn’t miss my bro’s wedding for the world,” Nishinoya’s voice drifts as his eyes follow the alcohol. He plucks a glass in one swift motion and holds it high, “Salut I força al canut!”

Yachi watches him throw back the drink with poorly veiled anxiety. “Ah, speaking of, we should find our seats. It looks like the cake cutting is starting soon”.

“Good call. We’re getting in the way of the preparations. And I think you’ve left Asahi alone for too long,” Sugawara claps Nishinoya on the shoulder. “Looks like he’s been accosted by Saeko-san”.

Nishinoya pivots on his heel, whip-like and buzzing. You’re not sure which name he reacted to more. Asahi or Saeko. “Where?” his gaze locks in on the pair across the room. “I’ll talk to you guys in a bit!”

Gone in a blink. “He never slows down,” Sugawara sighs, shaking his head fondly. “Guess that’s my cue,” he says before parting ways. Yachi waves after them.

An idea strikes you then. “Say, Yacchan. You’re next to me, right?” you glance toward the long tables set up around the dance floor and meet her gaze with a suggestive smile. “Would you want to sit next to Yamaguchi instead? I don’t mind swapping”.

Their relationship had blossomed over the past few months. A long, slow burn finally come to fruition, new enough that mention of it usually makes her turn pink. But the light in her eyes dims at your suggestion, and rather than flustered, Yachi looks uncertain.

Her fingers form a loose clasp around your forearm. “Tadashi is seated next to Tsukishima,” she explains gingerly. You feel yourself freeze and the kind motion of her thumb strokes circles along the inside of your wrist.

You let out a shaky exhale. “That’s okay. I don’t mind,” you tell her before the consequences of what you’re offering can really be cemented. Yachi’s eyes widen, her grip tighter on your hand as you squeeze back in an attempt at reassurance, knowing your smile looks brittle. “It’s probably for the best. We haven’t… talked yet”.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure”.

“Are you sure you’re sure?”

“Hitoka,” you laugh, bumping your shoulders together. “I promise I’ll survive”.

You regret it not two minutes later.

Anticipation fizzes under your skin as you spot him. On approach you give him a cursory look over, the harsh beat of your heart ricocheting in your chest. Tsukishima looks good—he always does, but today, dressed in his dark, double breasted suit, with the golden hour light carding fingers through his neatly styled hair, you think he’s never looked better.

It is disconcerting to see him again and realise that your feelings haven’t changed much in the slightest.

You sit in the chair beside him. You see his spine draw taut in the corner of your eye and feel an oscillating loneliness; so alike those final few weeks together that cold dread seeps between the spaces in your ribs and steals your breath.

“Tsukishima,” you incline your head, impersonal and cautious, hating how foreign his surname is on your tongue.

A beat passes before he repeats your name in greeting, soft as a psalm despite the dour expression on his face. You’re overcome with the urge to poke the uncomfortable crease in his brow. To smooth it out and kiss the skin there, the way you used to do.

You shift in your seat. The arms curve around your midsection and knock against your elbows as you fiddle with the table cloth, “I told Yacchan that Yamaguchi could have my seat so they can sit together. I hope that’s alright”.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” and you know the clipped answer is reflexive by the way his jaw locks in frustration at himself. Bracing for what you’ll say next.

Only, your mouth curls up a little, and you exhale a short laugh through your nose. You haven’t seen him this skittish since your first year of highschool. You consider that maybe you aren’t the only one who’s scared. That things are the same and they are not the same. The thought is bittersweet, but it’s nice, the way his trepidation gives way to muted awe, how he sends you sidelong glances when he thinks you’re not looking.

The music picks up in a grand crescendo as the newlyweds enter the hall and the reception begins with a raucous applause. A rich aroma unfurls as the food is served, the depth of the flavour layering over the already present notes of wildflower and honey. Drinks are handed to the guests. Generously. You swirl the liquid gold around the rim of your glass, luxuriating in the syrupy inebriation of a gently oaked chardonnay.

“So, uh. How’ve you been?”

Tsukishima, to his credit, does not startle at the question. “Fine,” he says, and you think he might leave it at that when he adds, “The museum received another new Crinoid collection last month, so I’ve been preoccupied”.

You grasp at the conversational thread, not wanting him to stop, “Crinoids?”

“Marine animals. They still exist today, though not as common. You might’ve heard of sea lilies and feather stars,” he shrugs halfheartedly, not daring to look away from his deep fried tofu, though it’s clear he can’t help talking about his work with pride. “Ours are from the Triassic period”.

“Just like the, uh—” you click your fingers to conjure the name from thin air “—Gojirasaurus! Your favourite, right?”

Tsukishima pauses. It’s a fleeting thing, but you notice. The corner of his lips curves into a barely-there smile. He seems pleased that you remembered. You busy your hands with repositioning the cutlery a fourth time so maybe, hopefully, you can distract yourself enough not to say something stupid like: “If I visit, will you show it to me?” or “Do you miss me, like I miss you?”

You clear your throat. “I hear the Sendai Frogs have been doing well, too. Congratulations on moving up to division one”.

Those aureate eyes are sliding to you again, bright and searching. Tsukishima arches his brow in a delicate mocking gesture that was unbearable when he was sixteen and even more so now. “Keeping tabs on me, are you?”

There’s mirth trickling into his voice, giving it a familiar smarmy lilt. A wave of emotion washes over you. Embarrassment and heart-twisting-happiness. You shove some rice into your mouth and chew it down to fine paste, vying for time to formulate a coherent sentence. “No. I read about it in the latest Volleyworld issue,” you reply unconvincingly.

“You don’t read Volleyworld”.

“How would you know that?”

Tsukishima takes a shallow breath and nods. The warm gloam of late afternoon mellows his taut features. “I’ve been reading too,” he says after another sip of wine. “I saw you finally published your book”.

Dread seized the inner workings of your mind and the apology on the tip of your tongue curdles. Time ticks by, one sickening second after another. Your eyes dip low to avoid his gaze—which for some reason, he refused to direct anywhere else.

Your recollection of the break up itself was hazy at best. There had been no raised voices, no desperate movie-esque kiss, no slammed doors. Only grief filling your body like lead, and jumbled, half-hysterical thoughts of ‘Is this it? Are we giving everything up, just like that?’

You remember everything that followed, though. The inability to accept reality. It is said if a writer falls in love, that love can never die. And so you kept writing, and writing, and writing; perceiving love through different lenses, creating different endings; relying on metaphors of natural forces and disasters, of cannibalism and gluttony, of journeys and patience to make sense of it all. Six months after everything fell apart you completed the final draft of ‘The Vanishing Moon’, dedicating a final testimony to him in small print on the first page.

Given the choice, I would’ve rather had you at my side than any one of these words.

Has he seen it? Is that what he’s getting at? Did he read through all eighteen chapters and meticulously pick out the remnants of him you pressed between the pages?

“Noya said it made him cry,” you eventually reply.

Tsukishima signals for another drink. He takes two flutes from the server, handing one to you. You accept it with a soft ‘thanks’, hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in your fingers. “Nishinoya-san cried when he found out swans can be gay,” he points out.

“You cried at The Land Before Time”.

“What kind of cold hearted bastard doesn’t cry at The Land Before Time?”

Laughter bubbles up in your chest as the initial dread ebbs away and the tension seeps from your shoulders. Tsukishima dips his chin, a small smile as he mutters, “That’s better”.

In the centre of the hall Tanaka cradles Kiyoko in his arms, now surrounded by clusters of their loved ones whirling with their own partners, a hurricane of colour and laughter and love. Tsukishima observes them with a solemn gleam in his eye. That could’ve been us, his heart says in chorus with your own.

“Do you remember that time we danced together in third year, at the summer festival? I tried to kiss you and gave you a nosebleed”.

“I remember”.

Your gaze drops to the bottom of your glass. At the time you had been mortified. Now it’s a story you would share at your own wedding table. The thought cleaves your heart in half.

“Do you remember the song that was playing?”

“Why are you bringing this up?” Tsukishima snaps. “Yes, I remember everything. I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to. Happy?”

There’s a surge of something devastating in your chest, like love and heartbreak all at once, strong enough that you feel as if your ribs might splinter just to make room for it. But they don’t—and you don’t, because you’ve felt this before, and your body remembers.

You remember.

Suddenly the room is too hot, and the music is too loud. “Sorry. I’ll be back in a minute,” you murmur, pushing your chair back and getting to your feet.

“Wait,” in one short breath there are long, calloused fingers circling your wrist. You do wait. Tsukishima hesitates, the pressure elevates, and as you lean away your palm slips into his, skin kissing skin. Then he’s standing, towering over you. “I’ll come with you. I know a place that’s quiet”.

Tsukishima does not let go of your hand, and you don’t let go of his. He walks a few steps ahead guiding you through the throngs of people. Some familiar heads turn, their attention drawn immediately to the place where your bodies meet, and shooting you various looks of encouragement or confusion. Yamaguchi sees you pass and his mouth splits into a grin so wide that his eyes crinkle.

You’re not sure where it is he’s taking you, only that his promise of finding quiet is true. The cacophony simmers and soon enough the festivities are muffled entirely. Just when you think you’ve wound up at the end of a corridor it curves, leading to a pair of french doors. “Come on,” Tsukishima ushers you out onto a balcony.

What you’re greeted by makes your breath catch. The world as it is around you comes to a standstill, the fabric of reality peeling away. An orange yolk dips below the horizon and the sunset hour drapes across the ostensibly endless meadow hidden behind the Karumai Gardens. Rolls of grass sway in the wind, peppered with wildflowers of every shade.

You move to stand at the balcony’s edge. Tsukishima drops his hand, and your fingers curl into your palm. The shadows grow longer, the air cooler. The evening insects begin to sing. You’re warmed still by the wine thrumming in your bloodstream.

“Hey, Tsukki?”

He comes to stand beside you, folding his arms atop the wall. “Don’t call me that”.

“Oh,” you swallow against the swell in your throat. “Sorry, Tsukishima”.

Tsukishima’s expression twists into a scowl. There’s a blush creeping toward his ears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says. You blink and wait for him to elaborate, which only flusters him further. He stares stubbornly at the border. “Just—call me as you normally would. Anything else sounds wrong in your mouth”.

The name leaves you in an instant. Hushed—not whispered, “…Kei”.

He makes an inquisitive noise, strangled as it is.

“You didn’t say what you thought of it,” you continued. “My book”.

You feel a rush of adrenaline when Kei doesn't answer immediately, unable to read his expression. “Good,” he says, veiled indifference belied by the restless twisting of a cufflink between his forefinger and thumb. “It was good”.

“Well, that’s practically a Pulitzer recommendation coming from you”.

“Shut up,” he huffed, gaze flitting across your face and dropping to your tentative, uncertain beginning of a smile. He wets his lips and glances away. Heartened, both by the alcohol and his reciprocation, you press closer in small increments, and Kei flowers under your gentle persuasion, like he always used to.

“This okay?”

In lieu of a reply you are ensconced by a warm, firm chest and two strong arms around your back that show no sign of withdrawing. The low timbre of his voice vibrates under your cheek, “Who was it for?”

“Hm?”

“The book. You dedicated it to someone”.

You exhale, squeezing your eyes shut. You’re glad, in part, that he can’t see the emotion written plainly on your face. “Nobody,” you answer lightly, angling to position your ear right over his beating heart. “Just an ex. You don’t know him”.

“Right,” Kei says, drawing out the ‘l’ the way he does when conceding a point he knows he’s correct about. It sounds so fond that you want to curl up where you’re resting, like some benevolent cat. “Guy must’ve been a dick”.

“I was too. We made a lot of mistakes, I think,” you say. If nothing came of this you would at least be able to revisit it; to pick at the scab and stop the wound from closing over too soon. There’s comfort in that. You crane your head and meet his gaze, nervous but unwavering. “But even if he was kind of a dick, I miss him a lot”.

“Yeah?” his eyes soften, half lidded and dark. “He misses you too”.

“He told you that, did he?” your mouth trembles. Kei dips to bring your foreheads together, and the hard frame of his glasses bumps your eyebrow. You share a shaky exhale of laughter.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, brow pinched with regret. Again, “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up”.

You feel your jaw quiver. The familiar burn behind your eyes. Tears so close you can taste them. “We both did. Don’t shoulder the blame on your own”.

“But I made you feel lonely,” he says.

You tuck your chin and whisper, “Yes”.

His fingers splayed across your cheek, pinky tucked beneath your jaw as he cradled your face in his hand, tilting until you’re staring back at the reflection in his pupils. Puffy and damp, eyelashes clumped with tears. What a sight.

Kei strokes his thumb in an arc beneath your eye. A tear beads on his nail, slipping into the crook of his hand. The inexpressible tenderness is overwhelming yet you are underwhelmed by the inaction. You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed by the whine in your voice as you ask, “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Demanding as ever. What happened to ‘please’?” he murmurs. And then he kisses you.

It is slow at first, hesitant, leaving room for you to pull away. But with every languid movement of Kei’s lips came a sweet affirmation, that which you took and took until you no longer felt unworthy of receiving it. His hand flutters at your waist. You take a shuddered breath, pressing closer into his embrace and deepening the kiss. In his distraction you take him by the wrist, encouraging him to touch. There’s an immediate, reverent grip at your hip, kneading over your clothes.

This is what you’d been longing for. The feeling you couldn’t transpose; that which people have long tried to capture. The esoteric, giddy anticipation and joy that bubbled between two people on the precipice of something bigger than themselves. Even with an affinity for stringing words together you are scarcely able to describe it. Immense and overwhelming, light and dark, tender and everything in between.

Kei pulls away for breath with a low, vibrating hum, wearing a smile that you thought you’d never see outside of your memories. Almost boyish when he looks at you. The distance is an inch too many but it is just that—an inch. “Eager,” he teases, only to kiss you again, twice as eager.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved love stories.

But love doesn’t only exist in stories.

You remember that, now.

[joonsmagicshop]

Needy

Summary: Your mother asks why you haven't given her grandbabies. You tell her you are not ready for that yet but it turns out Yoongi likes the idea very much

Paring: Yoongi/Reader

Word Count: 5K

Rating: M/18+

Tags: Boyfriend Yoongi, Mother daughter relationship that kind of sucks, needy subby Yoongi, soft Dom reader, dirty talk, reader calls him kitten and baby boy, jerking off, sucking off, pregnancy kink, flirting, second hand embarrassment, Yoongi can't get his erection to go down so reader helps, deep throating, face fucking.

Authors Note: The horny demon possessed me again.

Also this picture 🔥🔥🔥

“Yoongi there is a spot right there!” You say

“Can’t park in front of a fire hydrant babe.” He replies, eyes scanning the street

“Okay, what about there!”

“Park next to a Tesla? Absolutely no way.” He says, turning down a side street, eyes still focused trying to find the right parking spot.

“Yoongi please can we just pick a spot?” You ask balancing the meat and cheese tray you brought on your lap and scanning the street.

He smiles at you and turns the car down another street and you see you are getting further away from your parent’s house.

“Or are you being picky because you don’t want to go?” You ask with a teasing tilt to your voice which has Yoongi placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“How dare you Y/N. You know I love going to these extravagant giant parties your mom holds.” He jokes as he turns down another street and begins to search for more parking.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that appears on your face.

“Not sure why you are complaining Yoongs my mom looooves you.” You tease as he scowls and finally finds a spot that seems good enough for him to park his sleek black car into

You can’t help but laugh at his reaction.

But what you said was true.

You had been dating Yoongi for a year now and your mom absolutely adored him. She doted on him whenever he came over and always reminded him how he was her favorite son-in-law (he was her only son-in-law as it was just you and your brother as her kids)

Her relationship with you was much more…complex.

She was a perfectionist in everything she did and while it was impressive it could also be annoying when she expected everyone to be just like her.

You, being the only daughter meant she often criticized you, wanting you to be as perfect and ladylike as her.

This perfectionism shone during her parties. Your mom loved to host parties. Every small gathering got blown out of proportion so she could throw a massive get-together. She would go all out with decor and found herself happiest when she was planning something.

Your grade eight graduation was supposed to be a small gathering of family and it turned into a block party.

Your high school grad was worse as she tried to invite your whole class which you shut down real quick.

You took out your phone and frowned to see your brother finally respond to your text about the party.

“Michael is out. Says his wife and kid have food poisoning.” You say to Yoongi as he finally gets the car in the spot and throws it into park.

You grumble and type back a message as Yoongi chuckles beside you.

“Can’t we tell your mom we have it too?” He jokes as you lightly smack his arm and undo your seatbelt to step out of the car.

Yoongi follows suit and comes around to your side of the car, ever the gentleman holding out his hand so he can help you over the grass which is still slightly damp from yesterday’s rain storm.

It didn’t help you were wearing three-inch heels and a flowy pale blue sundress with small flowers embroidered on it.

You struggled to balance the huge tray of food as Yoongi grabbed your elbow to help steady you over the grass.

“So who are we celebrating again? Alessa and Jonathan right?” He asks pushing his soft brown hair away from his face and smiling down at you.

“Yeah it’s their second child so my mom thought to throw a small gathering.” You say snickering as you walk past the parade of cars that have taken over the whole subdivision.

“Ah, so a small gathering with your cousin’s closest friends got it!” Yoongi teases.

You finally make your way to the driveway and look up in time to see the door being thrown open by your mother who is standing there in a soft white sundress, her hair was curled in her signature style and she had her hands on her hips as you approached.

“Hey, mom.” You say leaning in for a sideways hug as you don’t want to knock the tray in your hands.

“Oh honey, what is with the hair up hmm?” She says signaling to your ponytail which was hanging down your back.

“This is a party I thought you’d wear your hair down for once.” She says with a frown as you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

Before you can respond her eyes land on Yoongi.

“Oh let me take a look at my handsome son-in-law!” She squeals as she wraps Yoongi in a hug and you bite back your laugh as she grabs his arm and brings him into the house.

You head to the kitchen and set the tray down amongst all the food as you hear your mom talking Yoongi’s ear off in the dining room.

You pull out your phone to respond to your brother’s text as you let your mom talk to Yoongi.

Once you decide Yoongi has suffered enough you slip your phone back into your purse and walk to the dining room to loop your arm through his.

He shoots you a grateful look as your mom is still chatting, oblivious to the whole thing.

“Mom, where is Alessa? I have a small gift for her.” You ask cutting your mom off her tangent as her eyes finally lock on yours.

“Oh I didn’t even see you come over dear Yoongi and I were just chatting oh… well of course let's get you to the party girl!” Your mom giggles as she leads you out the sliding door and to the expansive backyard.

Yesterday’s rain luckily blew through in time for today to be beautiful. The sky was bright blue with small whispy white clouds scattered throughout. The air was warm with a slight breeze that ruffled your dress as you walked over to the gazebo where the party was being held.

The party girl in question was your cousin Alessa who was lounging on a chair by the pool which your parents opened early for the party.

It was heated anyway so it didn’t matter that it wasn’t blistering hot outside people were enjoying it regardless.

Luckily for you (and Yoongi) someone grabbed your mom’s attention and she was off before you even had a chance to say another word to her.

“We could leave right now and no one would know,” Yoongi mutters in your ear as you shake your head and head over to Alessa.

“Hey!” You greet her as you take in her appearance. She is wearing a flowy red dress and her hands are wrapped around her stomach instinctively, her husband Jonathan waves from the pool where he is teaching their four-year-old daughter how to swim.

“Hi! Oh, I’m so sorry I seriously can’t get up right now your mom had me greeting like fifty different people and I’m exhausted.” She tells you as she swings her legs over the side of the lounge chair to side sideways and you wrap her in a hug.

Your cousin Alessa is three years older than you and absolutely glowing. Her first pregnancy was rough on her so when she announced she was pregnant again the family worried about her. Luckily this time around she seemed to have a much easier time and you were happy about that.

Yoongi shot her a small wave as you dug through your purse to pull out the card you got her. She beamed when you handed it over and patted the seat beside her so you could sit down.

Yoongi took the small folding chair next to her and the three of you chatted.

Party music filled the air and the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. You took your time catching up with your favorite cousin as Yoongi listened on nodding occasionally.

Jonathan got out of the pool with Millie on his shoulders and plopped her down right next to her mom. Alessa laughed when Millie climbed on her lap and got her dress soaked with pool water, you scooted over to give the four-year-old some room

“Yoongi good to see you, man.” Jonathan greeted as he patted Yoongi’s back.

“So your mom said this was going to be a small party?” Jonathan said with a grin as his arm swept the area to show how many people turned up.

“I don’t know if they even know it’s for me!” Alessa said with a laugh.

“I don’t mind though good food and good company. I don’t want to be the center of attention anyway. Remember your high school graduation?” She teases as you cover your face with your hands and groan.

Your mom made you wear a bright pink sash that said High School Grad on it and paraded you around the whole party. You were so embarrassed.

“Don’t remind me!” You groaned as Yoongi laughed.

Her ears must have been ringing because suddenly your mom appeared at Jonathan’s side holding a platter of watermelon. She put it down in front of Alessa and smiled at your small group.

“There’s tons of food inside if anyone wants any. Yoongi made a beautiful meat and cheese tray.” Your mom gushes as you fight the urge to once again roll your eyes.

“Actually Y/N made that. I was working late last night so didn’t have a chance to help.” He corrects as you look up at him with a small smile on your face.

“Yoongi you work too hard! Always these late nights! Make sure you take care of yourself too. Don’t want to overwork.” Your mom comments as you reach for a piece of watermelon ignoring the way she didn’t say anything about you making the tray.

It doesn’t matter anyway, you stopped trying to get recognition from her years ago.

“And how’s the baby?” Your mom asks turning to Alessa who is sipping a drink and jostling Millie in her arms to get her more comfortable.

“Good! Kicking a lot today but I think it’s just because of the food. I ate that spicy nacho dip.” She says patting her swollen belly.

“Ah yes, when I was pregnant the first time I craved all spicy food all the time. Her brother was a menace with the kicks.” Your mom responds with a teasing smile as she shoots you a look you know all too well.

You brace yourself knowing the words that will come out of her mouth next

The question she has been asking ever since you brought Yoongi home for the first time.

“So Y/N when are you giving me grandbabies?” She asks turning to face you and staring between you and Yoongi.

Poor Yoongi had never experienced her questioning firsthand and nearly choked on his drink at her words.

You sighed.

“Mom I told you we aren’t ready yet.” You say as you reach for another piece of watermelon hoping she will drop the subject.

“Yes, but honey your father and I aren’t getting younger you know. We want to be grandparents before we pass away!” She says loudly drawing the attention of the crowds standing close by.

Shit.

“I know Mom just not right now okay? I promise you will have grandkids…someday.” You say keeping your answer vague.

“Come on you would look adorable pregnant and we could go shopping and pick out clothes oh! It would be so fun to be a grandmother!” Your mom continues to gush oblivious to your embarrassment and the way Yoongi’s cheeks are stained bright pink and how he won’t stop staring at the floor as if it is the most interesting thing in the world.

“Mom stop! You’re embarrassing Yoongi and I.” You respond trying to cut off her tangent.

“Think of all the money you will save!” Your mom continued, not bothering to listen to what you were saying.

Embarrassment floods your veins as you are stuck in your spot next to your cousin who looks just as horrified as you feel waiting for your mom to stop talking so loud and attracting so much attention.

“Mom stop! Kids are expensive we won’t be saving money.” You hiss standing up trying to get her to stop talking.

Your eyes flick to Yoongi who looks mortified.

“Well yes, but you will be saving money. Protection is so expensive nowadays not having to buy condoms anymore will save you so much money! Plus it will give me grandbabies.” She coos.

You stare at Yoongi in shock as he closes his eyes and buries his hands over his face. You close your eyes and try to think of a way to tell your mom to shut the hell up without sounding so rude.

Your saving grace comes in the form of your father who enters the scene and whispers something in your mom’s ear shutting her up instantly.

“Oh, my friend Melanie is here! Oh, I must go say hi I haven’t seen her in over two months!” She exclaims as she quickly turns and hurries to the front door to greet her friend.

You are still frozen in shock not daring to look around at the group of people who you feel are staring you down.

“Um wow,” Alessa says breaking the uncomfortable silence as you finally lift your head to see everyone has pretty much moved on and is talking amongst themselves again.

You stare at Yoongi who is a brilliant shade of red and still staring at the floor.

“I have no words. Please tell me that didn’t actually happen. My mom told me not to use protection in front of a crowd.” You whine out as Alessa rubs your back.

“I am so sorry but it did happen. And it was wild.” Jonathan says as you look at Yoongi who is still not saying anything but is squirming in his seat.

“Yoongs you okay?” You ask as he slowly sips his drink and nods at you, still looking super uncomfortable.

Millie decides to wake up at that moment and wants to play so Jonathan takes her out to the grass beyond the patio and pool where lawn games are set up.

Another cousin shows up and the conversation switches to girl talk as you try to push down your embarrassment from earlier.

After five minutes Yoongi stands and squeezes your shoulder telling you he is going to use the washroom and will be right back.

You stand to give him a peck on the cheek as you sit back down to continue your chat, slowly sipping your drink and people-watching.

You get so lost in the conversation you hardly notice Yoongi isn’t back yet but when Jonathan comes back with Millie you look around to realize Yoongi is nowhere to be seen.

“I’m gonna go inside and grab some food.” You tell your cousins as you push yourself up from the chair and walk over to the sliding door cracking it open and entering the quiet house, the noise from the party instantly muted.

You walk to the bathroom on the first floor to see it is free which means Yoongi must be using the upstairs one.

You kick off your heels as you make your way up the hardwood steps, bare feet silent on the floor.

You see the door is closed and you snicker before lightly knocking.

“Occupied!” Yoongi’s voice rings out as you smile.

“Yoongs it’s me.” You reply and you hear him rush to the door and throw it open. He grabs your arm and drags you inside the bathroom shutting the door with his foot and pinning you up against the vanity.

“Yoongi!” You exclaim as his lips find yours and he kisses you with such passion it steals your breath from your lungs.

His hands are holding your hips steady as he ruts into you, his body pushing against yours with such force the countertop bites into your skin.

“Yoongi baby. What’s going on?” You ask breathless as his lips move down to your neck and begin to suck and bite at the skin. His hands frantically rub your sides as he continues to grind his crotch into you.

“Need you. Fuck need you so bad.” He begs as he pulls the straps of your dress down to get more access to your skin and you throw your head back and moan.

His lips are hot against your skin and he is rutting into you in a way where you can feel the full length of his bulge pressing into your core. His hands grip your hips as he fucks into you with force which has your back arching and moans falling from your mouth.

You are in a lust-filled haze as Yoongi’s fingers trail up the slit in your dress, his fingers teasing the inside of your thighs you are about to open your legs and give him what he wants when you hear the sliding door open downstairs and you freeze.

Someone is in the house.

Yoongi doesn’t seem to hear it as he sucks a harsh mark on your neck and you put your hands on his chest to push him back as you hear footsteps downstairs.

“Yoongs we have to stop so-someone is in the house.” You say breathless as he finally looks up at you and you gasp.

His eyes are blown wide and so dark they are almost black. His tongue darts out to wet his swollen lips and his hair is a mess atop his head.

Yoongi lets out a whine and steps forward as you strain to hear if someone is still in the kitchen downstairs. He brings his head to your shoulder and begins to nuzzle your skin, small moans leaving his mouth.

“Yoongs baby what has gotten into you?” You ask softly petting his hair and trying to flatten it as his tongue darts out to lick at your skin.

“I got hard. So fucking hard so I came up here to see if I could make it go away and it won’t fucking go away.” He whines as he rolls his hips into yours giving you delicious friction against your core.

“And you thought furiously making out with me would make it go away?” You tease as he whines loudly against your skin and continues to rut against you desperately. His body still caging you in as he looks up at you through thick lashes and sticks his bottom lip out in a pout.

“I’m so horny and I tried everything to get it to go down but I’m so fucking hard. I didn’t jerk off because…well it’s weird to jerk off in my girlfriend’s parents’ bathroom but baby I’m so fucking horny. It won’t go away.” He whines softly still pouting as his lips come to find your neck once again and he delivers you soft kisses.

You hear the screen door close and you let out a sigh as you push him back from you once more.

“Yoongs baby what got you so horny? You fucked me last night remember?” You say blushing at the memory of you riding him and how good he felt stuffed inside of you.

“Don’t remind me, please. We want this to go away not get harder.” He begs as he buries his head into your chest and lets out a frustrated sigh.

You let out a soft laugh and rub his back affectionately.

You can still feel his cock pressing against your core and you reach a hand down between your bodies to stroke him. He closes his eyes and bites his lip to keep from moaning.

“What got you so horny Yoongs hmmm? My baby boy usually isn’t so desperate.” You say taking on the dominant role as Yoongi’s body seems to soften into yours.

Even though he likes being dominant you find he equally likes being subby and being your baby boy.

“Please don’t freak out.” He says in a small voice as you remove your hand from his cock to stroke at his hair.

The sliding door opens again downstairs and you continue to comfort him.

“Tell me, baby boy. What has my kitten all worked up?” You ask as he flutters his eyes closed and buries his face into your shoulder whining.

“Talking about you being pregnant. At first, I was horrified your mom would bring it up. But then. Thinking of you. Dripping with my seed. Pregnant with my child. All swollen and big… all because we fucked. And fucking you without a condom. God Y/N.” He whispers out as he starts to rut his hips into you again, pushing his cock into your hip and making you bite back a moan.

He ruts against you as you stroke his hair and give him soft kisses to his temple.

“I need to cum so bad, I don’t think my cock is ever going to go down.” He whimpers as he holds you steady and continues to grind against you. His greedy hands rubbing at the bare skin of your arms.

“So you have a pregnancy kink?” You question as he stills his movements to look up at you with lust-blown eyes.

“Yes? No? I don’t know I just know the thought of fucking you, filling you with my cum is making me painfully hard. Help. God, please touch me. Please do something. I can’t go back to the party like this.” He whines desperately as he captures your lips in a heated kiss.

His body is flushed against yours and his hands trail up and down your arms. You feel your core throb at his words as he continues to grind his hips into yours harder, desperate to seek some relief for his aching hard-on that is still trapped in his tight pants.

You part your legs to give him some room and he slots his bulge perfectly against your core. You let out a whine against his lips when he grinds into you frantically, practically humping your leg in the process.

“Want me to jerk you off baby boy? Make you cum around my fist?” You ask as he nods and bites his lip.

You pull away to reach between your bodies to undo the button of his jeans. When you slide the zipper down and open his pants his swollen cock quickly fills up the space and you tease the head of his cock with the tip of your finger.

“Wanna fuck you. God, please let me fuck you.” He begs out as his eyes start to water with desperate tears.

“Do you have a condom? We both aren’t ready for kids yet.” You remind him as you pull his pants down to his ankles and see his cock straining against the dark material of his tight boxers.

You let your fingers dance against his hard shaft and he whines.

“No, I forgot to replace the one in my wallet. I wanna fuck you so bad.” he almost cries.

You’ve seen Yoongi desperate before, usually when you are edging him or having him tied up but you have never seen him desperate like this.

His eyes are wide and tearful and his teeth are biting into his lip. His hands are still grabbing at your arms tightly and he looks on the verge of insanity.

“I know baby boy. I know you want to fuck me but we don’t have a condom so we can’t.”

He lets out a whine as tears slip from his eyes.

“How about I suck you off yeah? Get some of that tension out then when we get home I’ll let you fuck me however you want. With a condom on though. Okay, kitten?” You coo as he nods and you finally pull down his underwear.

What a sight his cock is.

Hard and leaking precum the head is red from the lack of attention and his shaft is twitching slightly.

He groans when you finally wrap a hand around it and you shush him with a giggle.

“You have to be a good Kitten and not make a sound okay? The whole party doesn’t need to know how desperate my baby boy is and how hard his cock is. God Yoongs your so fucking hard for me.” You whisper as you circle his cock and he buries his face on your shoulder to muffle his noises.

You jerk him slowly focusing on the head of his cock as Yoongi moans and whines into your shoulder. He is steadily leaking pre cum and you can feel how pent up he is by how his cock is throbbing in your hand.

“You have to be good now and don’t make noise. I’m gonna suck you off okay kitten. Be good for me yeah?” You ask as Yoongi nods and you sink to the floor sucking at the tip and making his eyes roll in the back of his head and his hips shoot forward.

You jerk his cock in tandem with your mouth and Yoongi is doing everything in his power to stay quiet. Your mouth feels so good against his aching shaft and he can’t help but curl his toes against the tile floor when you take him deep.

Your nose presses against his pubes and he lets a filthy moan slip from his lips. You pull back immediately and look up at him, stilling your movements and driving him to insanity.

“Please don’t stop, please. Y/N I’m so hard it hurts I need to cum please.” He begs out as tears slip down his cheeks.

You lap at the tip of his cock again making him shove his fist in his mouth to keep from screaming. His hands come to tangle in your hair as he forces himself to breathe through his nose and not wildly fuck your throat.

Your hand leaves his shaft to play with his balls which are swollen and begging to be touched. Your hand comes up to fondle them and Yoongi throws his head back as a stifled moan leaves his mouth.

You can feel your own arousal slick on your thighs as you watch Yoongi inch toward orgasm as you work him harder.

You grin against his cock and wrap your fingers around his shaft again. You deep-throat him down and Yoongi lets out a choked moan as he shoves his fingers in his mouth.

“Tell me Yoongs what do you want baby boy?” You ask pulling off from him and resting your head on his shaky thigh.

“Wanna fuck your throat. Please Y/N, please. I’m so close. It hurts. Please I wanna cum” He begs as you obey and suck him back into your mouth and keep your head steady.

His hands come to brace your head and he begins to fuck into your mouth. Softly at first to get you used to the feeling and then he starts to pick up the pace.

He fucks into your mouth harshly as his hands grasp at your hair making your scalp sting. He is trying his best to stay quiet above you as you open your throat wider and tears cloud your vision as he chokes you with his cock.

“Please Y/N, please. I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum. Ohmygod please.” he cries out as he continues to harshly fuck your mouth and you open it wider.

He wails and cums down your throat as you swallow all he gives you.

You keep your nose pressed against his pubes as you swallow him down and soak in the noises he is making above you, somewhere between a groan and a sob as he slows his thrusts.

You take your time pulling off his softening cock and you lick his cockhead clean before standing up on shaky legs to stare at Yoongi.

His hair is a sweaty mess and his eyes are still blown wide. His lips are bruised from all the biting and he looks blissfully fucked out.

“Thank you thank you thank you.” He praises you as he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks and kisses you softly. You can feel the relief radiating off of him.

“Feel better Kitten?” You mutter against his lips as he pulls back and nods suddenly looking shy.

“You are so good to me. God how did I get so lucky.” He praises you as he strokes your hair and continues to pepper kisses on your lips and cheeks.

“I’m the lucky one Yoongs.” You respond as he pulls away and fixes his wild hair.

Your arousal is leaking down your thighs and you grimace when you feel it.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks as you reach for some toilet paper to get yourself cleaned up.

“Seeing you like that got me all wet. Just gotta get cleaned up kitten.” You say slowly cleaning between your legs.

“I can take care of that you know.” He reminds you with a smirk as you softly smile at him.

“I know you can Kitten but we have been gone from the party long enough because my baby boy was a needy little thing and needed to fuck my throat to feel better.” You remind him as he buries his face in your neck and whines.

“Don’t. Y/N please dont we just got my cock to soften.” He begs as you let out a small chuckle.

“Sorry, Yoongi. I’ll save it for later. Now come on we gotta go back or people will get suspicious.” You say grabbing his hand and exiting the bathroom.

“We could just leave… you know. Take care of things now?” He teases you with a lift of an eyebrow and wink as you smack his arm softly and lead your boy back out to the sunshine and the party.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Run Away To Me (III)

AU MASTERLIST || FINAL CHAPTER

PAIRING: Blacksmith!Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Runaway Bride!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 5.1k

WARNINGS: Blood, wounds, medieval period-esc standards for women, arranged marriage, toxic family dynamic/relationship, blood, angst, protective Johnny, violence, hurt/comfort, speedy relationship, talks of sex/intimacy (nothing in depth) & virginity pertaining to marriage, religious symbolism & mentions, etc.

A/N: That's it for this AU - onto Werewolf!Ghost next.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You’re kept behind Johnny’s back as you both exit the treeline, and you feel yourself quivering with unease. 

What would Lord Wilkin do to you? Drag you back? As the shelter of the trees leaves you, you tighten your grip on the blacksmith’s tunic, breathing out a shaky puff of air. Cobalt eyes look back at you, trying to reassure you as the first calls start up from the guards.

Johnny whispers out, his accent deep. “It’s gonna be just fine.” 

“She’s here!” 

Hounds dash forward but with a sharp bark of, “Get back!” They skid along the dewy grass and halt with rabid barks instead, fur bristled and spittle flying. The men surge forward, and you gasp as they grapple at Johnny’s arms. 

One tries to snatch at the neck of your cloak, but a strong arm traps the armored wrist and twists it sideways, snapping the bone as you stare wide-eyed as the guard screams; jerking back and stumbling to his knees. With a fluid motion, Johnny grasps the handle of the downed guard’s sword as he writhes with agony, unsheathing the blade and laying it upon the breast of the other with a dim call. 

He glowers and glares, eyes like burning coals. 

“I suggest you step back,” you watch, holding your breath from over his shoulder as the blacksmith leans closer to the man, one arm kept behind him and resting on your hip. “‘Fore this gets bloody.” The guard raises his hands and backs up quickly, fear splashing his eyes. 

All of the others watch nervously from the sidelines, either reigning in steeds or holding their hands to the pommels of their weapons. Waiting. 

You swallow the saliva in your throat and ask, quietly, “Are you alright?” 

“Don’t twist your head about me,” Johnny reassures, eyes traveling around the homestead as the guards shuffle and share glances. The Scot grits his teeth and tries to think of a way out of this. 

If you had run, just as the man had anticipated, they would have caught up in no time.

The clop of hooves from your left draws both of yours’ attention in a quick succession of perked heads and pounding hearts. You feel your blood drop to pool in your feet at the face that meets you. Johnny growls and shoves you farther into his shadow as Lord Wilkin comes closer with a horse of bay coat, decorated with all the finery of his station. Gold, great coat with an embroidered tunic, and riding boots. Strapped at his waist was a dagger encrusted with gems made of blood and diamonds.

Never mind all that wealth, he looked ugly and cruel to you—a glint of arrogance in his eye. You glare and grit your teeth, rage coming off in waves from Johnny as well as yourself. 

Wilkin’s old face is the same you remember smirking down at you as he drove the ceremonial blade into your palm, and your entire hand flinches in memory, digging your nails into the Scot’s waist. 

He puffs a sound of reassurance but otherwise doesn’t move an inch from in front of you.

“And who might this be holding my bride hostage?” The Lord’s voice is sly. Black eyes dart up and down Johnny’s form and the man you latch to has to restrain a rabid grunt of anger. Stay his molten tongue. “A blacksmith?”

“It’s MacTavish, to you,” Johnny calls, tone dead and laced with danger. Your body restrains a shiver as his warm skin sinks into you; the memory of his lips on yours is addictive, even now. “Be best for you to remember it, eh? Considerin’ I’m the one who supplies your fucking guards with arms.” 

Lord Wilkin utterly ignores him, his gaze sliding to you halfway through his sentence. You stay silent, lungs tight inside of your ribs. The unfortunate truth was that Johnny still had more standing here than you did, anything that you said would come up as null and void; in fact, it would be better to be completely mute. 

But with how the Lord was looking at you, your teeth had to bite into your lip to silence yourself. You had to come up with a way out of this. Soon. 

“Take my bride away from this brute. Chain him.” Wilkin hides a smirk, pulling at his steed’s reigns to shift the beast away with a snort and a flick of a dark tail. “I want his head on the block in the town square by tomorrow. I have a wedding to finalize.”

“Let the fires of hell go cold if I go anywhere with you,” you say, stepping out slightly from behind Johnny, much to his hesitation, but still, he watches over you and lets you do as you please. The blacksmith would rather not have this Lord’s eyes anywhere near you if he’s being honest with himself.

This Scot had made you bold—his words gave finality. If he said nothing would happen to you, you believed him. Perhaps that made you foolish, but his word meant far more than anyone else. Johnny kept his promises.

Lord Wilkin’s horse is jerked to a stop, its head snapping back and forth with a frothing mouth. His eyes travel back and a slow sneer pulls at his lips, sitting under a mustache of white hair. You restrain a cringe, and Johnny barks an order to the advancing guards to stay back as his large feet set themselves. 

“If they grab me,” he mutters, speaking over his shoulder, “run, Little Lady. I’ll be sure to give you an opening.”

Your eyes widen in shock and horror, but before you can answer, your husband-to-be calls to you. The Blacksmith’s expression is the picture of defense as he angles the sword in his grip at the far-off Lord when even the barest hint of his tone indicates you.

A low grunt was ringing in his throat like that of an animal—as if the bear fur inside of the house had come to life and was a shield of muscle and iron shavings.

Your eyes blink, and something begins forming in your head, but it’s gone before you can really grasp it.

“My Lady,” Lord Wilkin states, his guards taking up places beside him, glaring. The hounds have still not gone silent, and Johnny eyes them nervously. “I believe you’ve been overcome by some…” He grumbles and gnashes his teeth in rage. “Spell of disobedience. I’ll have a physician examine you and keep you in my home for a stay of recovery—”

“The lady said she’s not goin’ with you,” Johnny seethes, pupils slits. Your hand rests on his back, spread over the swell of his broadness as you feel his pulse. Hot and racing. “So pack the fuck up and scatter! And take the bloody mutts with you!” 

You spare a worried glance at the back of his head. The blacksmith can’t possibly believe that threatening them will make Wilkin pull back, and when he meets your eyes, you know he doesn’t just by the wrinkles by the sides of his lids. 

He’s nervous, shifting his feet in small increments to try and push you nearer to the tree line. Your body hardens. 

You’ve already made your mad dash—there was no more running. Certainly not if your new center of affection and protective build wasn’t coming with you. 

Wilkin raises a brow. “Quite demanding for the man surrounded…Woman!” You flinch at the sudden shout, the quick rage of his snapping head, and the quick switch. Johnny glares and his hands are strangling the hilt of the sword, white and held still. The Lord barks, “Your parents gained valuable gifts for your well-bred hand—would you enjoy them being taken away? I can do so.” Dark eyes sweep over you. A smirk. “Forget this spark of madness and consummate what you know to be done.”

Johnny lunges with a snarl, eyes burning with horrible anger and the intent to cut the head off the snake. The guards meet him as he yells to you, “Run, Dearie!” 

But your feet are stone.

When the man realizes you’re going nowhere without him, his eyes gain a sheen of panic as his blade clashes with sparks of steel with another. A dance of feet and wit that speaks to years of careful study; practice from both parties. Wilkin looks smug as Johnny lets off a loud curse and has to turn his attention back to the fight.

“Seems the woman’s come to her senses. Praise God, perhaps there’s hope for her yet.” You breathe heavily, hands clenched under your cloak. Your mind wished for a dagger—one to show this pathetic excuse of a man how much it hurt to try and have someone mark you for the pleasure of ownership. Like some common branded cow. 

Wilkin nods to you as Johnny gazes on in horror, narrowly dodging a swipe at his side before he elbows a guard in the face, splaying him out along the ground in a heap of leather and fabric.

“What are you doing?” He yells, voice booming out over the forest. You don’t look at him before you suck down a breath and steady your nerves; standing taller and setting back your shoulders. 

The trained grace that had been shoved down your throat on a silver platter came back easily. Forks and spoons sliding under your teeth, all engraved with images depicting holy scenes of sanctity while the blood of your flesh spills at the poke of thorns sitting on your head. A halo of bloody martyrdom. 

A tool. 

You can be a tool, you decide, flinching when Johnny’s body is tackled to the ground; form ricochetting as he growls and writhes. His sword clatters to the ground. They have him in binds, cheek shoved into the dirt, and great shackles that skirt the line between animal and human restraint. A guard’s hand forces his face deeper into the earth and Johnny bellows, ordering with wild eyes, “Run, dammit! Get out of here!” 

Sending a stiff glance, you stare blankly into cobalt eyes and blink away just as quickly, standing and staring down Lord Wilkin as he watches in contentment at the scene of the raging blacksmith and his seemingly placated bride. At the twitch of his lips, you raise your voice high. 

“Release him.” Dark eyes turn to slits before they slowly slither back to you. 

“Pardon?” You grit your teeth and feel Johnny glaring, a snarl ripping out of his mouth as he coughs through the grass. 

“Dearie, no!” A punch hits his stomach as he’s jerked up to his feet and attacked; chains rattling as hounds bay for blood. You sense your gut roll with bile as Johnny fights back—tree-like legs laying a kick square into one's abdomen. 

The two guards hang onto his arms, shouting at each other to try and restrain him further.

“I ask my husband-to-be to release the man that graciously gave me shelter during the storm,” staring hard, you’re trying to stop yourself from running to Johnny. You know you have nothing to help him with—it would be pointless and utterly stupid. 

Your brow raises, but a nervous twinge is still in your voice. “Does My Lord not take pride in the fact that the men of his fiefdom are so open to taking in those less fortunate than themselves?”

Wilkin’s cheeks go tight, skin pulling as the eyes of the free guards travel to him. The struggle gradually dies down across the way; cobalt eyes darting back and forth with panic. 

“Don’t bloody do what I think you’re doin’!” 

A trade would happen, but only for a moment. In your head, you were whipping past possibilities and scenarios. There was something on the cusp of discovery—so close to giving you the upper hand, but what was it? Like a thorn in your foot, you continue to walk over it; ready and willing. 

Johnny had your back last night, it was time you had his.

“Let the honorable blacksmith go,” you level. “And name your price.” 

The response is immediate. A flashing smirk. “Deal. I’ll take my bride back, just as was intended.”

“No!” Johnny’s tunic is all ripped up, tears from gripping hands only making the damage larger—nail scrapes along his hardened flesh from the guard’s ruthless hold. Skin white from the force.

If you look at him, you’ll lose your mind.

Under your cloak, your hands shake as Wilkin descends his horse, coming closer. 

“Keep your fuckin’ bastard hands off of ‘er!” 

Think. His footsteps march closer—thin and sly-looking like a sharp-eyed Egret. Think! 

Before his hand can snap at your wrist your mind sparks in a panicked moment, and you’re exclaiming with a loud voice before you can stop yourself or think the sentence through. You stutter at first but quickly gain your footing. 

“I-In good faith, I cannot accept—I am unfaithful to you, Lord!” 

The entire homestead goes still, and those struggling with Johnny’s binds freeze. Lord Wilkin goes confused, his wrinkled visage peeling in like a rotted corpse. But no faces are quite as good as the blacksmith’s, who goes so pale and wide-eyed before he can school himself in secrecy; his jaw loose. His heart pounds in his breast, shreds of tunic waving in the wind. You continue with utter conviction, so much so that you even start to believe the lie you’ve crafted with a swift mind. “See the evidence upon the blacksmith’s sheets—where we lay last night in the throes of lust; I am no longer a pure bride.” Breaths get caught in throats; eyes bugging to a nonsensical degree. You swear someone choke. Your face burns as you continue, faking a shameful falling of your chin. 

“I cannot marry you!” It’s almost enough to break you, the realization on Johnny’s expression as he darts his vision to your hand—which you hide inside your cloak; wrapped around your waist with false fear. Blood on your hand. 

Blood on the sheets.

“It would be shameful to do so, do you not understand? I am not but a used good.” Fake or not, the last comment still makes Johnny’s hands clench his jaw working itself with a restrained growl. 

But pride furrows his brow. A smirk was forced back from his lips.

You just took away what Wilkin loves more than anything else—control. 

The older man halts, his mouth going agape and a vile sheen coming to his cheeks. He stutters, “I...what?” It’s a violent snarl, but the man balks back from you as if you’re infected. “You dare lie to me, Girl? Play off this fallacy?” 

“It’s no lie,” you say, gaining confidence with how Johnny watches you closely, only once rumbling at the guards that hold him when they tighten their grip. “The evidence is plain as day in the Blacksmith’s bed.” 

Wilkin’s eyes flash, and he barks an order to one of his men to enter the main house. Only when his dark eyes are off of you do you spare a look at Johnny. 

You sag softly, shoulders losing some tension. 

Blue eyes lock with yours, firm. Sending an apologetic squint of your eyes, the man only slightly shakes his head, mouthing out, “Don’t worry your little head about it.” A quick, barely-there smile flashes his lips—but then you have to look away before you let the shaking of your body be known. No matter how hard you plead with your muscles to stop vibrating, they do so instinctually. 

You know what lying about this will cost you, successfully or not. You’d be labeled for the rest of your life; separate. But Johnny’s eyes on you ease the pain. Lets you breathe. If the worst thing that could happen to you was living out your life in his homestead and being at his side, then perhaps social execution was the only thing that pleased you at the moment. 

You just hoped that it didn’t lead to an actual execution.

“Lord!” The guard returns as Johnny continues to watch you, panting, with sweat dripping down his chin. His ribs hurt something awful, but he only glowered at the men holding him and stayed his violent tongue to let you work your strengths like fine iron wrought in the fire of his hearth. 

Wilkin’s lackey was hurriedly carting the length of the Blacksmith’s sheets behind him—clutching in his fist the vibrant red stain of your blood and displaying it to the light. Thinking about what they saw it as, instead of your wound opening, you cringe and restrain a sound of disgust. 

Even being around Johnny for as little time as you had, despite the kiss and infatuation, you had forgotten how crude the rest of these men could be. It’s like this sanctuary of trees and dew-soaked ground was in an entirely different world, and these intruders were wrecking it. By Johnny’s face, he felt the exact same.

Half of the Scot wanted to save your honor and tell them you were lying, but the desperation of the situation was far more serious than that. He couldn’t let you go back to Wilkin—he’d promised. So Johnny took down a tight breath and stayed silent; face burning and glaring at the ground with clenched fists shaking for blood. 

The guards holding his arms slightly release their grip, listening intently themselves.

Blanking, the Lord’s eyes lock onto the stain as the man brings him the fabric. Not a moment later his hand snaps out to drag it to his face, looking daggers into the redness as his eyes snap from place to place.

“...You did this on purpose,” the slow dead tone takes you aback, hands around your abdomen digging further into your flesh as a dread spills into your stomach with blossoming unease. 

“M-my Lord?” Johnny tenses, eyes sharp like a wolf.

“You did this so you could spite me, you little,” the encrusted dagger is unsheathed from its scabbard. “Whore!”

“Shut the fuck up!” The blacksmith bursts with wrath, jerking forward so violently that he drags the guards holding him along the ground, their calls of alarms making the hounds go ballistic. 

You take a small step back as Wilkin gets nearer to you—the point of the blade setting itself right under your chin; tilting your head up. Breath going tight, you stare with wide eyes and a pounding heart. 

He wouldn’t kill you…would he? 

The Lord’s eyes are brimstone and deeper than Hell, holding sinners in the bars of his pupils while devils of brown specks prod the pool of obsidian. If a man could be on fire and still be living, Wilkin was an inferno incarnate. 

“You belong to me,” he grits his teeth as Johnny’s voice blurs in the background, having to be forced to his knees by three men yet still nearly throttling one with the force of his arms. “I paid for you.”

“Then you should find it a lost investment,” you shakily reply, not knowing how you have the strength to stare into Wilkin’s eyes. But you do. You stare and you hold your hands tight into your flesh until the skin under your gifted fabric aches. A small prick of the blade makes you suck in a tight inhalation, a tiny droplet of crimson sneaking down your throat.

It’s a battle of wills, and before you say what you’re thinking, you’re nearly sure that in less than three seconds you’ll be grasping a slit throat. 

You clear your throat softly and speak in a dim whisper. “How will your guards react to you killing a woman in anger?” Expressions freeze. “What does God say about that?” You swallow, throat bobbing. Hit him where it hurts. “...What would the townspeople say? Mercy is not above our great Lord, that is an earthly prospect. I believed that was your greatest quality, is that not what everyone believes?” 

Wilkin stares, his mustache twitching. Dead face. Dead eyes. 

It’s a long, long moment before anything else happens, and when it does, you flinch.

The dagger disappears from your chin and you instantly back up several steps, breathing unevenly. Pointedly, you place your uninjured hand on your slowly dripping skin. 

Johnny’s taken down three of the guards, their faces bloody and your blacksmith’s nose broken. He yells and screams curses. You feel your heart constrict at the sight, pain zooming down your veins in bursts of adrenaline, but it’s seconds later that Wilkin speaks, loudly so that everyone can hear.

“I would never harm a woman,” you hold back a violent scoff as your hands shake, wanting to be taken into Johnny’s arms now more than ever—feel his heat and inhale his scent. Wrapped in a blanket of steel and ash. “In my good graces, I will pray for your salvation, Miss. But being soiled—” 

“Bloody piss off!” You send Johnny a quick glance at the outburst. He’s forced back face-first into the ground with a grunt and sputtering of grass in his mouth. 

“I no longer wish to be joined with you in holy matrimony. It would be dishonorable to my station.” Dark eyes swim with hatred, but the tone of his voice is easy and pliable. The Lord was a good fake—he plasters on an appeasing smile for his men and waves a quick hand in the air as he turns to his horse. “Release the brute. Let the pair roll in their sin of carnal desire. God will be their judge.”

Johnny struggles as they unlock his chains, but the second he’s out he’s springing full-force towards you; his skin sliding across your cloak as you’re guarded far better than any loyal hound or King might be. 

“Johnny,” you grapple at his biceps, sighing raggedly in relief. He doesn’t brush you off, only curling his side around you and angling his head to the mounted horses; pupils slits and lungs heaving. His nose looks awful. “Don’t, don’t,” you plead, “It’s over.”

The man doesn't respond, looking feral as his hair goes this way and that; coiled around your body about to strike at anything that comes close. 

“I’ll kill him,” Johnny grunts. “I’ll rip his damn throat out for speakin’ to you like that—for puttin’ a knife to your throat. I’ll rip him into bloody bits and pieces, you just say the word, Little Lady.”

Your arms encase the one of his you’re holding, dragging the limb to your chest. Cobalt eyes dart back to your face. It’s a long moment, but his expression softens slightly—the wrinkles beside his eyes easing while his lips twitch down. Blood drips off his lower face, spread around his under eyes, and stains his stubble with crimson gore.

“Please,” you mutter. 

He looks down and nods stiffly, even if he doesn’t like it. 

The horses are rallied, the hounds called, and with a throw of dirt from their hooves the convoy is off. Silence returns in slow increments of nothingness. 

Wind, the call of a bird, and the babble of a far-off stream echo through the pines. Only when they’re entirely out of sight and the dust has cleared that Johnny swiftly moves, picking you up into his arm. You squeak as he carries you speedily into the main house, rushing to place your backside on the table. 

His large hands immediately tilt your head up to spy the tiny mark from Wilkin’s blade, and you feel his shuttered breath against your throat as you go heated. 

“J-Johnny, what are you…” But you don’t get an answer, the man disappearing before coming back with a wetted rag. Once more, the man cleans your wounds with delicate presses of the cloth—ridding you of all blood. 

His jaw is clenched, and as you watch, your hand in your lap twitches. 

In a broken act of pain, you lightly run your fingertips over the swelling of his nose. The man stops, but serious eyes stick to your throat—unable to meet your gaze; there’s a red sheen to his neck and ears. Anger or embarrassment, you know not.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, guilty, and his widened gaze rips itself to lock with yours. Your vision blurs, afraid to touch him fully as if it might burn him.

“No,” he’s shaking his head. “No, you never tell me that. What you did, Dearie…I,” Johnny stutters, closing his mouth before opening it again. “I should be apologizing to you. It wasn’t fair to make you do that. Any of it.” 

A wobbly smile flicks your lips.

“Are you saying I should have left you?” Johnny moves his face farther into your hand, blood contaminating your skin but you don’t pull away. You let him sag into your palm instead, reveling in the scrape of his stubble against your soft hands. 

“I’d not see you harmed,” is all he answers. 

You sigh and blink away your tears, stealing the man’s rag so you can dab at the bloody nostrils. Johnny’s pulse is still fast under you—like the pound of his hammer. 

“Well,” his eyes dig into yours and you smile. “I believe my priorities are the same. I may have only met you yesterday, but I’ve grown quite fond of you.”

“Aye, well, everyone will know how fond soon enough.” He’s more worried about this than you are, a stubborn and almost grumbly tone to his words. 

“Is my purity that much of a sore point for you?” You can’t help but tease him, even in the circumstances. “I had no idea.”

His face goes more crimson than his own blood, and he blinks at you rapidly. 

“I…That isn’t what I…” You chuckle gently and press your forehead to his, whispering. 

“I was just joking.” He sags with relief, his hands coming up to rest on your hips with the care of a man unbefitting to his station. Again, you have to ask yourself how an individual so intimidating can be, at the same instance, kind and generous. 

His lips mutter, brows tight. “Are ya sure you’re alright, Hen?” 

You think, wondering about the run through the forest when this all began, the plea for shelter. Such a deep coincidence that you’d end up here—perhaps the most safe place in the entire fiefdom. Everything had lined up perfectly, barring a few bumps in the road. You doubted Wilkin will mess with this place after the spreading of your ‘promiscuous’ behavior.

He was too sly for outright violence if given the option.

“Yes,” you know, and thin your lips. “What about your nose? A-and everything else?”

“Don’t think about it,” the Scot smiles, eyes still glinting with worry. So many hours and you’d barely gotten any sort of break. “I just want you to rest, then, eh?” 

Maybe it was outwardly obvious, but the entire ordeal had left you drained; shaky, and still coming off of panic. What if they had killed Johnny…? 

You’d go back to Wilkin and live as his wife, producing heirs and locked away in his estate for the remainder of your life. What kind of existence was that? No, you knew, you’d never live like that. 

You’d never live like that here. 

With a shaky breath, you watch Johnny’s eyes flash with concern for a moment by your silence, but before he can speak you’re pressing your lips to his in a firm and honest kiss—sinking in every emotion you could. 

The man grunts in surprise, but doesn’t move back; if anything, his grip on your hips increases, sliding up to your waist. 

After a moment of tasting flesh, you pull back and whisper, “Thank you.”

Johnny breathes heavily, a glimmer in his blues, “Well,” he grumbles, “I’d say you did most of the work.” 

You both share a chuckle before you’re lifted again, carried gently over to the bed without sheets. You’re placed atop the bear fur and wrapped in that instead after your cloak is unclipped and folded neatly, set on the floor. Outside, the call of a far-off storm hits your ears and you blink to the window. 

“Stay with me?” You ask before you can stop yourself or can even think. 

The blacksmith’s breath catches, his fingers flinching as they were pulling the fur tighter around your neck. 

It’s a moment before he asks in a quiet tone. 

“You sure you want this, Dearie?” His lips go tight, eyes narrowing in inner conflict. You stare and already know the answer just by how he speaks to you. “I’m no King. I…I can’t give you fine jewelry or fancy clothes. There’ll be no grand suppers beyond the game I catch or what I can afford to buy. Long winters.” 

The air goes quiet with worship, and your eyes go wide with care. His broken nose is crooked, but it doesn’t seem to bother him at all. You wonder if that was for your sake or his.

“I’m not someone worthy of your beauty,” he rubs at the back of his head, bending down by the edge of the bed. “Certainly not your smarts. I’m only a blacksmith, Little Lady.”

“Only?” You huff a chuckle. Johnny looks at you in confusion as the black clouds outside roll in, seen through the window of this quaint and lovely home. The hearth is warm, the scent of food still in the air, and the memory of a dash through the forest behind you. 

“If you’re only a blacksmith, Mr. MacTavish,” you’re sent a fake stern look as the back of a hand goes to brush your cheek. You shiver. “Then I’m only a runaway bride.”

“Aye,” Johnny admits with a growing smile of adoration, “but still a bonnie one, at that.” 

“...Stay with me?” You ask again. 

The man breathes out, “Tell me why.”

“The trees do not deny what they need to make them whole, Blacksmith,” you whisper. “Why should I?” 

He’s clambering under the fur, wrecked clothes, and blood on his face but never feeling more whole. Is so little a time enough to fall in love with someone? What deity had tied your souls together so soon with ribbon soaked in rainwater—tinged with blood? 

His lips meet yours as you sigh into him, hands gripping his arms as they circle your waist tightly. Johnny breathes you in and lets his hands span your back, fingertips digging into your clothes. Into his mouth, you whine a plea for him to keep you close and hold you tight. It’s all your need from him. It’s all you want. 

For the wise know best: there is nothing better than a simple life.

TAGS:

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[welcomingdisaster]

pov: you're browsing the "#hidden city" tag on first-age beleriand tumblr

💜 elfcontrol Follow 'speciecism' 'gondolindrim privilege' 'anti-anti-noldolante' you sound insane please go outside. please touch grass. please listen to the song of the stars

⛅ gil-ass-tel Follow can't i'm in nargothrond #underground #hidden city #think before you speak

(231 notes)

🌸 skunkmaid Following i have to be honest i didn't realize we weren't allowed to leave gondolin. was really busy embroidering a tablecloth and didn't notice until yesterday when i tried to walk out (needed more blue thread)

💠diamondcraft Mutuals girl it's been 200 years

(31 notes)

🌬️feeeeacalimë Follow idk & idc how drunk the king was he was so real for this

#its down now #should have kept it up #hidden city life fr

(2099 notes)

🌻sweetflowersofspring Mutuals Personally I'm a huge fan of how every once in a while the King just brings a Man or 2 around. go off keep it fresh #i liked the two little ones #but ngl tuor is hot as shit #tuor call me #hidden city

(8 notes)

🌃wordsmithfoul Mutuals i think it's actually awesome and exciting that finrod let murder-cousin1 and murder-cousin2 into the kingdom! they're really well known for getting along with all of their kin! oaths dont work underground or anything this won't backfire! 🙃🙃🙃🙃 #how some of y'all sound rn #hidden city discourse

(131 notes)

🪨 madattwilight Follow A Union of Souls | 2.8k | Idril/Maeglin

Summary: When Idril Celebrindal meets her cousin Maeglin for the first time, she does not spare him a second look as a romantic partner. However, after he sits her down and logically explains to her that he is the best possible mate due to a variety of factors (good looks, intellect, ability to mine at incredible speeds) she leaves Tuor to wed him under the stars.

READ MORE ON MY WATTPAD! #rpf #idrilmaeglin #dontlikedontread #lemon #sex #cousinsex #hopethishappens #no betas we die like that stupid toddler should #hidden city (2 notes)

🧵broiderycreature Following its wednesday my dudes everyone post pictures of orodreth looking bored and despondent and slightly wet in court #wednesday posting #hidden city (128 notes)

🌟 starstrewn Follow

🌟 starstrewn Follow

✨⛔this post is not for kinslayers⛔✨⛔kinslayers do NOT reblog⛔✨⛔kinslayers do not interact⛔✨

#adding that since i see whos reblogging #cant believe that needed to be said

[eymie]

APPLE PIE !

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

warnings: smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), PinV, pet names, softdom!billy, body worship, teasing, overstimulation, semi public,

summary: billy likes to play poker with your older brothers, now he's started to take a liking to you.

a/n: did not check for mistakes.

Billy knew your brothers. They hung around and played poker with him at the saloon, which was off limits to you. Neither your father or older brothers wanted you in there with the dirty old men that’d probably grab and flirt at you. Pulling you onto their laps.

But Billy caught your eye. Sometimes he’d stop by your family’s ranch, come see if your brothers were home. Maybe he needed a favor.

The way his deep brown hair was messy, and there was dust smeared on his nose and cheek. His clothes fitting just right.

You only ever ran into Billy a few times. Maybe you answered the door or saw him around town tying up his horse. Brief greetings, you were his friend’s little sister after all. You thought he was a bit shy but who were you to judge.

It was hotter out lately. Your mother ordering you to go check for fresh eggs in the chicken coops and to pick a few apples to make pies later.

Your heeled boots climbing up the wooden fence to reach the apples on the higher branches. The stool was in the barn and the fence was right there. You stretched up as far as you could to reach a perfectly ripe apple. You heard a deep voice behind you and fell back. A strong pair of arms catching you from behind.

“Gotta be more careful.” You recognized the voice immediately. Billy let go of you when you stabilized yourself on the grass. “Don’t you got a stool for that?”

“Well, it’s in the barn…” You looked up at him, admiring his blue eyes you had yet to notice before now. You’d never been this close to him.

“You should probably grab that. Don’t want you getting all muddied up.” He brushed some mud off your cheek with his thumb.

“Thanks Billy,” you mumbled stepping back a bit, stumbling over your feet. His cowboy hat shadowing his face from the summer. He hummed in response.

“Either of your brothers home?” He asked, pulling his hand away from you. He hadn’t noticed how pretty his closest friends little sister really was. “See, I gotta talk to them.”

“You could come in and wait.” Your face felt hot with embarrassment after you had said that. Flirting with this man you barely knew.

“Hmm, I don’t want to over stay my welcome.”

“You’re always welcome Billy.”

“I’ll help you carry those apples and eggs in.”

“Thank you.”

He followed you into the house. Your mother was on the back porch embroidering and your father was out. Your brothers were probably off in the saloon or elsewhere with your father.

Billy placed the basket on your table.

“I don’t know when they’ll be back.” You say to him, avoiding his gaze. He was so close to you. You’ve never felt this shy around a man before.

“I don’t mind at all, can’t stay long though.” He was, his calloused hand brushing your arm.

“Whys that?” You ask, moving your arm to feel him against your skin once again. You sounded so innocent talking to him. Knowing your intent was anything but that.

“Why I can’t stay long?” He asked, furrowing his brows. You watched his adam’s apple bobbed as he opened his mouth to speak again.

“No, why don’t you mind being alone with me.” You asked him, catching him off guard. Not expecting this surge of confidence within you.

“I think that’s self-explanatory.”

“I want you to explain.”

“I don’t mind spending time with a pretty girl like you.” Your heart rate sped up a bit. Heat rising to your face. Billy smiled at your flustered look.

“Billy, I like you.” You confessed, pulling his hand in with yours. His hands were bigger than yours, he was much taller too. You couldn't help but wonder how they'd feel inside of you.

“I see the way you look at me.” He stated, you let go of his hand looking back up at him embarrassed. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off before you could. “Shhh, I’m admiring you.”

You mouth opened, your stared into his blue eyes. A soft smile on his face as he looked down at you. He brought a hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing your skin.

You pulled him down, your lips brushing each other before you pulled him in. Billy kissed like it was the last thing he’d ever do. No mans ever kissed you like this. His hands gripping at the fabric of your dress. Your hands entangled in the curls at the nape of his neck.

His body pushed you against the table, a moan escaping you lips. He groaned into the kiss in return. His tongue slipped past your lips, brushing against the tip of yours.

“Please,” you whispered against his kiss-swollen lips. His kisses trailed down your jawline and neck. Nipping at your skin. Your leaned your head to the side to give him better access. “Billy.”

He hummed against your skin, His fingers pulling at the buttons of your dress. You whined, pulling his hands off you. You prayed your mother was still distracted by her embroidering.

Billy reluctantly pulled away. His breathing was heavy as he stood over you, his hands on either side of your body. You felt his warm breath against your skin, his bottom lip brushing your forehead.

“Billy, I want you.” You whispered in his neck. The back of your dress partially unbuttoned.

“I reckon you got a room.” He mumbles and you nod. He pulls back, releasing you from his cage. Your hand pulling him down the hall to your room. It was the smallest room in the house, the window outlooking the pasture.

Billy had pushed the door shut, he didn't waiting to push you onto your small bed. Allowing him to unbutton the rest of your dress. He doesn't bother yet with the clothing underneath yet.

“You’re so beautiful,” He mumbled into your lips as he kissed you deeply. His knee slotted between your thighs under the skirt of your dress. His hands travel under your garments to feel your skin.

You whined in embarrassment, covering you face with your hands.

“Don’t cover yourself.” He grabbed your hands, pulling your wrists forward. He kissed down your body, in between your breasts. Letting go of your wrists to push up your chemise, kissing your breasts. You whimper as his teeth graze your erect nipples. Your back slightly arches off the bed and his hands slide under your back to support you.

You feel his hands pull down you bloomers, feeling his calloused hands on the smooth skin of your thighs. You let him pull off your chemise leaving you bare underneath him.

"Billy, you too." You whine, resting on your elbows. Your thighs were clenched together tight. His hands traveled to spread them apart.

"Let me see you first." You allowed him to spread your thighs. His thumb parting your wet folds. Your breathing getting faster as he smeared your slick around your folds. "This all for me?"

You didn't respond, you couldn't without your voice cracking. So you nodded instead, allowing him to continue to touch you. He kissed your knee as he spread your legs further apart. He rested his cheek against your thigh admiring your wet pussy before sliding a finger in.

Your jaw fell open letting out a small whimper. His single finger was longer and thicker than yours. You closed your eyes as you adapted to the feeling. His long finger slowly slid out and back in. He kissed along your inner thigh as he worked on your pussy.

"More?" He mumbled into your thigh. His eyes looked up to meet your closed ones. His thumb rubbed against your clit to get your reaction. "Come on, words now baby."

"Yes, more please." Was all you said, he obliged, pushing another finger in stretching you wider. His fingers sped up, curling in a "C" shape. You let out soft moans, slowly moving your hips.

His fingers pressed into a certain spongey spot inside of you emitting a squeak from your throat. You arched your back off the bed and Billy continued to brush his fingers into that spot. You eyes rolled back when his hot tongue met your clit. Flicking it before wrapping his lips around it. Moans of his name leaving your lips as you entangled your fingers into his brown curls.

"Billy, oh- I'm close. Please." Your hips jerked as you whined out to come, You felt him nod between your thighs. You threw your head back as you jerked your hips against his hand and face. Your back arching off the mattress as you cry out his name. Vision going white as you cum around his thick digits.

He looked up at you between you thighs, continuing to suck onto your clit. You whined trying to pushing his head from in between your thighs. He pulled his wet fingers out, using his hands to hold your legs apart. He was stronger than you were.

"Too much, Billy. Please, can't take it." She whined as she continued to try and push his head. His tongue explored her, licking and sucking her come. His tongue thrusting in her entrance making her cry out. "Billy, no more!"

She whined out before she came around his tongue again within a matter of minutes. Heavily breathing as he came up from between his wet thighs. His large hands rubbing and soothing his inner thighs.

He leaned down to kiss you, the taste of yourself on your tongue. Your hands cupped his face, your juices smeared on his chin.

His hands unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock. You looked down and let out a whimper. He was bigger than you had anticipated. If his legs weren't preventing yourself from closing, they'd be clenched shut. "Billy..."

"Shh, you gonna be a good girl?" He asked, lips still brushing against yours. You nodded as he spread your thighs again. He pulled them above his hips so you could cross them around his torso. "I'll be nice."

"You don't have to be." She whispered against his lips as his tip prodded at her wet entrance. He groaned, kissing her deeply to swallow and moans as he pushed in. His tip stretched you out, a slight burn that made you whimper into his kiss. You couldn't help but clench around him as he pushed into you. Inch by inch. He felt never-ending.

He let you adjust when he bottomed out. Slightly grinding against your hips feeling impatient. "You're so goddamn tight."

"Move." You muttered against his lips. He pulled out a few inches before pushing back in. You moaned out, surprised at the sensation. He thrusted into you slowly until you were whining at him to speed up. "Billy, faster- please."

His thrusts were relentless, you were a moaning mess underneath him. His hand hooked on the inner part of your knee to hit a deeper angle inside of you.

His lips travelled along your jawline, whispering incoherently into your skin. Grunting when he hit certain spots inside of you. His cock pressed against all the spots that made you cry his name. His lips finding the sensitive spot on your neck. Sucking a deep purple bruise into it.

"So wet- tight, fuck." He groaned into you. Fucking you harder. Your nails clawed at the fabric of his shirt, tugging it off to feel his skin. He shrugged off his button up shirt allowing you to scratch down his biceps. "Harder, please baby."

You nails left red streaks on his skin, digging in close almost enough to draw blood.

"Good girl, take it." He mumbled, his thumb rubbing your puffy clit. You let out a loud moan you pray no one nearby heard. The sounds Billy drew out of you were unholy, filthy.

"Biily, I-" He cut you off with a harsh thrust. You moaned out, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

"Come for me, come on." He rubbed her clit faster as your breathing picked up. The wet slapping noises almost overtaking it. "You're almost there."

His hands held your back as your chest pressed into his. Your hard nipples rubbing against his. Her come coating his thick cock. He fucked you through your orgasm, eventually pulling out. Spurts of his cum coating your lower stomach.

He kissed your sweaty hairline, rubbing your sides as you calmed down. His fingers entwining with your temporarily until you both heard the front door creak open.

masterlist

[redtsundere-writes]

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 15: The Failed Plan

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta-read.

Word Count: 8415 words.

A/N: Sorry for posting late. This was a long boi to edit plus it was my b-day lol

Also, thanks to Luna, my new beta reader, for the help!

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

“Yorozu, wake up.” Without having opened her eyes, she recognized her mother's soft voice in the morning. “Come with me to the market, Yorozu.” She shook her foot to wake only her up, who slept peacefully on the edge of the bed next to her twin sisters.

The golden light of the sun blended with the green plush grass and the white wild flowers of the large open field. The few trees around created abstract works with their delicate shadows. The little birds, hungry and romantic, sang in the distance, announcing the arrival of a new day. Yorozu rubbed her eyes to get used to the little light that entered through the windows, decorated with soft cobwebs that she had forgotten to remove the day before. She saw her mother confused at the foot of the bed, ready with her broken basket to go to the market.

“Nice try, mom.” Yorozu crawled back into the blankets her grandmother had embroidered for them years before she died. “The market isn’t open yet at this time. Goodnight.”

“Yorozu!” Her mother scolded her, losing her patience, waking Mimiko and Nanako up in the process. “We have to go,” her mother insisted before giving Yorozu a smack.

“What’s going on?” Nanako asked in a sleepy mumble to her, as her twin sat on the edge of the bed. 

“She said we’re going to the market,” Mimiko replied, confused as to why they were leaving so early.

“No, you girls don’t have to go. I just need Yorozu,” her mother replied, trying to pull Yorozu away from her sisters.

Yorozu looked at the small calendar her sisters had drawn on the wall and quickly realized what day it was. The day she had patiently waited for had finally arrived. Today was harvest day. She sat on the bed to decide her next move if she didn't want to be taken to Sukuna's castle. 

Unlike you, who always tries to see the good side of people, Yorozu has always seen the bad side of people. You can't trust anyone when they live under the tyranny of an evil being who lets curses run free, eating humans without rhyme or reason. You can't trust anyone when other humans are always going to prioritize their own lives over others. Humans can become horrible creatures under the influence of panic once resources run out, like her own mother.

"Are you going to sell me to the king…?" Yorozu asked her mother directly, who was stunned that she realized so quickly. "… like Y/n?" Yorozu inquired.

"I've already told you thousands of times that Y/n left on her own. She left a farewell letter and everything." Her mother pretended to cry as if she missed her daughter.

Yorozu knew she was evil inside. She never faked it or denied it. That was why she always found it so easy to tell her own kind apart. At the end of the day, she was her mother's daughter. No one was surprised that a narcissistic and selfish woman would end up raising her lookalike. Yorozu envied her older sister because she had dad's personality, a strong, protective, and kind man above all things. Secretly, you were always his favorite, the only one who put her big girl pants on at the time of his passing, someone who always cared about others before herself unlike every other human she knew. You were like the ones who would die to protect her family.

“Put the crocodile tears aside and accept what you did.” Yorozu faced her, standing in front of her with her arms crossed over her chest.

Her mother smiled at the great offense. She couldn't believe that her own daughter blamed her for something so horrible that she had done, but she didn't have to know that. Nanako pulled Mimiko by the nightgown to leave the room to get away from the argument, but the brunette twin still wanted to see how the fight developed. Despite being the same age, the blonde was the one who made the decisions for both of them.

“Yorozu, I would never do...!” Her mother tried, but a blow to the face interrupted her sentence. Yorozu shook off the punch as if it was nothing. Her mother looked at her in shock as her nose bled.

“Fine, don't accept it, but I'm not going to let you take me to that prison for your stupid desires. I'm not as stupid as Y/n,” Yorozu said, getting on guard, ready to give her mother the beating she so deserved. “Is this really happening?” Nanako and Mimiko thought in unison as if they shared the same brain.

“I didn’t want it to be like this, but it will have to be.” Her mother put her hair up with a rag, making sure her hair didn’t get in the way of her vision. “Since you were of no use to me to move forward, I shall take you out so you don’t get in my way. This wouldn’t be happening if you had accepted King Gojo’s hand.”  

Yorozu let out a war cry before launching herself at her mother. It was supposed to be a fistfight, but like any fight between women, they ended up grabbing each other’s hair. Yorozu was at a disadvantage because of her long hair. Even though she threw hollow punches, her mother controlled her like a puppet. Nanako and Mimiko watched from the doorway as they cried at the sight of the two members that were left in their family fighting so wildly. The only adults in their lives, the ones who were supposed to protect them, were fighting to the death. They wanted to intervene to stop them, but they knew they could never do anything about it.

Yorozu pushed her mother to the ground, in an attempt to get her hands off of her. She positioned herself over her and continued hitting her anywhere visible. They were clumsy and desperate blows to free herself from her and her uncertain fate. Her mother ended up receiving them as she did not have the speed or strength to resist. The cries of her twin sisters only infuriated her more. “This wouldn't be happening if Y/n was here” Yorozu thought furiously before continuing to hit her mother.

“No matter how many times you hit me, I'm going to sell you. Whether you like it or not!” Her mother threatened her while her mother cried from the pain of being beaten. This brought back terrible memories of her childhood.

The woman didn't know her family. She was banished from her homeland when she turned 6 for not having “what it took” to be part of the family, so she always had to survive. Find somewhere to eat, where to sleep, and repeat. Get on her feet by her own means to show that she had what it takes and much more to offer. She didn't have a cursed technique, but she had courage. Her nose could lose blood in a waterfall, her dress could lose its cleanliness by rolling in the dust and her dignity could be questioned with each blow, but she would never lose hope on herself. She had to do it, she couldn't die without first proving to the family that abandoned her that she could become someone without their help. She was going to get to be part of a family bigger than them, no matter what.

“So you accept it, you stupid old woman?!” Yorozu yelled full of fury.

“I sold Y/n to give you a chance, and you blew it! Damn brat!” Your mother screamed with blood stained teeth.

Yorozu continued to beat her out of anger, while her mother barely defended herself. All of her daughters knew that she had sacrificed her eldest daughter to try to take care of her family before worrying about herself and her future. Yorozu was sick of seeing you reject marriage offers from neighbors for fear of leaving your family after her father's death. She was fed up that she gave away her daughter, who had done nothing wrong, to the devil. The tears of helplessness at being in that situation were too much for her. Being her mother's favorite, she thought that it would at least give her a little more time to get a husband.

The brunette was starting to get tired, but she had to finish the job one way or another. She didn't have many options. She didn't want to run away from her own home so that her mother could then take advantage of the minors in the house. Her mind was pure chaos, and it was going to very dangerous places out of desperation to escape the situation. She wasn't going to give her life so that her mother could get away with it. The only one who could ruin her life was herself.

The situation took a 180-degree turn when her mother pulled her by the hair and pushed her to the ground, taking advantage of her daughter's exhaustion. Yorozu pushed her by the bloody face to get her away from her, staining her nightgown with the blood dripping from her nose, but her mother sought to knock her out with her bony fists. She would take any path to take Yorozu to the castle of the tyrant who was going to give her 100 gold coins for her daughter, with that money they could eat and everything would go smoothly from there.

"Let me go now!" Yorozu said between heavy breaths.

"Make me, girl!" Her mother told her with a sinister smile.

Her bony hands took hold of her neck tightly. A drastic but necessary measure. Yorozu tried to do the same, but her mother did not allow it. She felt like her head was emptying with each useless breath in search of oxygen. She only heard the desperate cries of her younger sisters for their mother to let her go. Her hands searched for a way to get her to let go, but all they could do was claw at her arms.

Her neck was turning purple from the lack of blood circulation, her head was spinning, and she could feel her soul leaving her body. She internally begged her sisters to do something more productive than just cry inconsolably. “I wish I had a knife to kill this old woman” she thought as she looked at her mother's face, blurred by the tears that clouded her vision. 

As if by magic, a kitchen knife appeared in her hand. She clenched it in confusion when she realized what it was, but she wasn't going to waste it. Her mother saw the object her own daughter had created to hurt her in shock. “Yorozu has a technique?!” She thought furiously before her own daughter stabbed her in the neck several times.

Blood began to gush out of her mother's airway, drenching Yorozu in the crimson liquid as she caught her breath. The limp body of the woman who gave her life collapsed on top of her. Her daughter kicked her off of her, without any remorse for what she had just done. Nanako and Mimiko hugged each other as they watched their dead mother's body collapse to the ground. Yorozu rested against the floor as she wiped the blood away with the back of her hand.

Seeing her lifeless mother beside her felt unreal. She looked as if she was just asleep. She had ended her life like a magic trick gone wrong. The young woman felt no remorse or worry, just felt an indescribable peace at no longer having to deal with that woman who used them as if they were the golden lottery ticket to escape from her shitty life.

"Thank you for nothing," Yorozu scolded her sisters. They came over to help her up.

“Is she really dead?” Mimiko asked between hiccups from crying from seeing her sister kill her mother in cold blood.

“Of course she is. It won't be a problem anymore.” Yorozu checked her dress, she was covered in blood. “I'm not washing that,” she thought, annoyed.

She had to change. She took off her dress without thinking twice. Nanako and Mimiko were already used to seeing her naked around the house. It was an annoying habit that had started when you disappeared from their lives, since you weren't there to scold her to put on more clothes. They really hated it because they felt she only did it to gather attention from the neighbors, but that wasn't their problem anymore. If an insect bit her in an uncomfortable area, they weren't going to scratch it.

“Now what are we going to do?” Mimiko asked worriedly, wiping away her tears as best she could. Now that her mother had died in front of her eyes, the only responsible adult was Yorozu. She didn't know which thing was worse.

"Isn't it obvious?" Nanako asked sarcastically. "We have to bury mom."

"There's no time for that," Yorozu answered before putting on the first dress she pulled from the closet.

"What do you mean there's no time for that?" Nanako asked, confused.

"Didn't you listen to what mom said? Y/n is in Sukuna's castle, we have to rescue her," Yorozu said as she tied the laces of the dress behind her back.

"Rescue her? And how are we going to do that?" Mimiko asked, making sure that her crazy sister was serious.

"I have no idea, but today is the perfect opportunity to do it," Yorozu answered as she put on her shoes.

Everyone who lived under King Sukuna's dictatorship knew about the day of the harvest. The elders lived worried that their children would give them up so they wouldn't have another mouth to feed, while the children were taken to the castle by their own parents, so the king could do the hard part for them. It was a day when everyone was tense, but not for them. This was the only day they could sneak in without anyone suspecting anything.

Mimiko crossed her arms and looked at her sister from head to toe. Besides being the only sister with blonde hair, inherited from her father, she is the smartest sister in the family. She loved her family, but she knew something was up with Yorozu for as long as she can remember. She is very immature for her age, she plays with boy’s hearts and treats everyone badly, but everyone tolerates her because she is "family."

"Aren't you supposed to not want to go there? There are many curses and the king is horrible," Nanako asked worriedly.

Nanako was very different from her twin sister. Even though she knew something was up with Yorozu as well, she still cared for her. With their mother dead in front of them, they were now alone. It's true that she wanted Y/n back, but the chances of her coming back or even being alive were very low. If she could make Yorozu change her mind, she would.

"Don't worry. I have this now." Yorozu created another knife to fall into the palm of her hand. The twins freaked out at the sight of its power. "I'll get Y/n out of there no matter what and everything will go back to the way it was before," she promised them before stomping her feet to make sure her boots were on properly.

They set off on the long journey once they had laid out the plan. They walked through the long grasslands, gravel paths, and stone roads as they watched the creepy black castle grow closer and closer. As the hours passed, they reached the central citadel. The markets were beginning to open, displaying the finest quality human meat and vegetables at their respective stalls, while the curses walked freely through the streets. They watched the humans with pity and envy of how the humans willingly went into the beast's teeth. If it weren't for the dry law that the king had imposed for the day of the harvest, they would have already been eaten.

The trio of sisters marched with their heads down so as not to draw more attention than they already did. Mimiko hugged her sister by the arm as they followed Yorozu towards her certain death. They heard the malicious giggles of the curses, mocking them. Under other circumstances, Yorozu would be terrified, but now that she had a technique, she felt unstoppable. They approached the drawbridge that led into the castle. Due to the occasion, there was a small wooden hut with several curses lined up, ready to receive the harvest. They all wore shiny armor and the flag with the symbol of the king they faithfully served.

“Who are you here to deliver?” The curse asked her as soon as the eldest approached the stand.

“Myself.” The curse was surprised that she wouldn’t deliver one of the girls who accompanied them.

“Wow… How heroic…” It said sarcastically before handing her the contract to sign. “Sign the contract and the money is yours,” it explained.

Yorozu took the contract to read the small paragraph she had to sign. The contract consists of three rules: The first stipulates that once the compensation is received, the crop belongs to the king. The second is that the crop will not receive visitors of any kind, or the visitors will be executed immediately. And the third is that if the crop dies, no one outside the castle will be notified. A cruel contract made to leave someone with the least feeling of guilt possible. Yorozu was about to sign, but Mimiko stopped her by the arm.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked. Yorozu broke free from her weak grip and signed.

The curse threw the sack of 100 gold coins at her feet for her to pick up. Yorozu smiled cynically before picking up the bag from the ground, showing that she didn’t care in the slightest about its opinion of her. She already had permission to enter the castle, all that was left was to find her older sister and escape together. It would be complicated, but she knew she could do it. She walked up to her little sisters’ height to give them the sack of coins.

“I’ll be back soon,” Yorozu whispered to them before two curses forcibly pulled her into the castle.

And that’s how the rest of her Hasaba family completely disintegrated. Nanako squeezed the small sack in frustration as she watched Yorozu abandon them so easily to pursue a small chance. That simple act made them realize that Yorozu didn’t care in the slightest what happened to them. “Y/n wouldn’t have done that,” she thought, annoyed.

“She's not coming back, is she?” Mimiko asked her sister as they watched the curses throw Yorozu into the courtyard.

“The girl who doesn't know how to be kind or clean?” Her twin answered sarcastically. “She’s dead,” she finally said before taking her hand to go back where they came from.

“Now what are we going to do?” Mimiko asked worriedly.

“We'll bury mom and get out of here,” the blonde decided strongly.

“What if Yorozu really comes back?” Her sister inquired without any resistance.

“That's not our problem anymore,” she answered seriously.

The sisters began their journey back to their home to bury their mother and plan their escape from the land of curses. It would be complicated for a pair of 11-year-old girls, but not impossible.

Today was the day. The day you would have to defend yourself from your sister. You couldn't sleep the night before because of the anxiety of having to face a sorceress with a thirst for revenge. You lay there, staring at the ceiling as you thought of strategies to somehow avoid the inevitable. You paced around the room with your heart in your hand from worry. You checked your archery equipment several times to make sure it was ready in the morning, despite wishing you didn't have to use it.

You couldn't do it. It was too much pressure for you. You couldn't kill your sister. What would your father think of you? He would look down on you in disappointment from heaven for turning you against the family he created with so much effort. Small tears of frustration from not finding a solution to the matter ran down your cheeks as you prepared to eat breakfast. You looked at yourself in front of the mirror as you ironed the red dress with your hands, the lightest of them all. Your eyes looked swollen from spending the night crying and the obvious lack of sleep. You put on some makeup to cover the gray patches and pretend everything was okay. “Don’t worry. Whatever happens will happen,” you thought before heading to the dining room with the little desire you had to eat.

“Good morning, my king.” you greeted Sukuna upon arriving at the table, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

“The king told me to let you know, that’s why I came as quickly as possible.” You quoted Mrs. Inoue in your mind when she interrupted your study session to warn you about what your sister was up to the day before. You looked at your friend who was on the other side of the room and gave her a smile to let her know that you were okay so she wouldn’t worry, even if you felt like you were dying inside.

“Today, I feel like it’s going to be an exciting day, don’t you?” Sukuna asked you with a deranged smirk on his face.

You knew what he was doing, you had realized during the endless night. You clenched your fist under the table. He had promised your sister the same thing he promised you to turn her against you. He knew your time was running out, so he had to intervene somehow to speed up the process. You watched as he smiled at you, proud of his own actions. You were afraid to say anything that might anger him, so you stayed quiet. Your sister was quick to arrive, skipping happily to cut the weird tension between you two.

“Good morning everyone!” She greeted with a smile before sitting next to you.

“How are you feeling?” You asked worried about her well-being. You couldn’t abandon your role as older sister even though she had promised the king that she would kill you.

“Good as new! You were right, I needed a good rest,” Yorozu said. You smiled at her, relieved that she was feeling better after the fight. “Hey, I wanted to apologize for yesterday…”

“Really?” You asked surprised.

“Yes, what I did wasn’t right. I got frustrated, actually.” Yorozu pouted as she hugged you in an attempt to get your forgiveness.

You saw how Mrs. Inoue looked at her with displeasure. You could also see through her falseness, but you wanted to enjoy your sister for one more minute. Forget for a minute that you lived in a castle full of curses. Forget for a minute that you had to study and train until you were exhausted. Forget for a minute that she would kill you at any second. Just two sisters living in the countryside, running through the grassland towards the sunset for one last time.

“Let me reward you for being so patient with me,” Yorozu proposed as she rubbed her cheek against yours affectionately. Her touch was warm, unlike her intentions. “Let’s train together. I’ll do anything,” she promised.

“Okay,” you smiled at her.

Uraume and a few cooks made an appearance in the dining room as they held today’s breakfast. The servant placed a plate of red berry oats with several slices of strawberries surrounding the perimeter of the bowl, elaborately decorated with some blueberries and blackberries. In the center, like the star of the show, was a large strawberry lightly dipped in the whitish purée.

“I asked Uraume to add extra strawberries,” the servant commented, a 50-year-old man with unruly gray hair and a friendly smile. You noticed that he was the same one who had served you your birthday cake. He must be new, since you didn’t know his name.

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” you thanked him, reciprocating the smile.

While you were distracted, Yorozu tried to steal the biggest strawberry from the plate with a mischievous smile. To your surprise, your hand caught her wrist before she could take it. You squeezed it tightly to make her pull her hand away in pain.

“Ow, ow, ow!” She squealed as pulling it away from the fire. “It hurts!”

“I’m sorry, but this is mine,” you declared before taking the strawberry to eat it in a big bite. Yorozu looked at you offended, she was so upset that a vein on her forehead was about to pop.

Mrs. Inoue laughed out loud. Her small eyes hid behind her chubby cheeks from happiness. She wiped away the small tears of laughter as she continued to laugh non-stop. You didn't want to take away the little joy she had in hell, so you let them have their fun, even though it was at your sister's expense. You put on your leather glove, making sure it was on properly as the lady held the bow and quiver. They waited patiently in the courtyard for the servants to bring the straw targets to start practicing. Originally, you were going to do it, but the servants offered to do it for you.

"It was so satisfying to see her annoyed face! I'm sure the others are laughing at her too." She laughed before passing you the quiver to put it across your body. You sighed as you adjusted it so it wouldn't obstruct your arms. Mrs. Inoue stopped laughing when she saw your downcast face. "What's wrong?"

"My little sister said she would kill me in front of the king today."

"Ah, that's right, I forgot about that." Mrs. Inoue facepalmed in disappointment. “Sorry, I must be getting old.”

You rubbed her back as you told her everything was fine. The servants left the weapons warehouse as they rolled the straw targets, leaving a thin trail of straw across the grass. The gardeners, who were in charge of trimming the bushes around the perimeter, put aside their work to help load the target bases. Together they placed the target on the wooden bases.

“Thank you!” You exclaimed from your spot, to which the servants only indicated to you from afar that everything was ready.

You were about to start shooting until you felt the king’s presence around you. You looked up at the bridges over the walls that connected to the watchtowers. The king, Uraume, and Kenjaku were all watching you intently, as if they were waiting for you to do something. You were used to having your training supervised, but this time it was different. Sukuna smiled expectantly at what was about to happen. Finally, after two months of waiting and holding back the urge to kill his sister-in-law, he would see your true potential in all its glory. You gulped as you felt their intense eyes on you. They were waiting patiently for you to surprise them, but you doubted you could do it. You felt like a joker in front of an audience that was about to bore him.

“King!” That shrill voice ran out of the castle to go with him. “Sorry for the delay,” she said, stopping in front of him.

“You seem very excited to kill your sister,” Sukuna told her, intrigued by the unexpected good mood.

“It's a great shame, really, but it's her karma for abandoning us,” Yorozu commented as she waved at you from afar, waving her hand from side to side like a flag. Sukuna had no idea what that meant.

“Yorozu!” You exclaimed on harvest day before launching yourself towards her to hug her tightly. Yorozu was so perplexed that it took her a while to reciprocate the hug.

She still remembered that bittersweet hug you gave her that day of their reunion. You were fine, better than fine. Yorozu thought she would find you in an ugly maid outfit, weak and with blood on your knuckles from hard work. Instead, you wore a beautiful dress, had gained a little weight from eating three times a day, smelled exquisite, and wore a delicate diamond tiara. Your sisters were so worried about you and here you were, living the best life in the castle while your sisters were starving in the countryside.

You were living the life your mother always dreamed for you without you having put in the least bit of effort. Yorozu was more than shocked at the reality of the matter. She wanted to live like that. Having a life where she only had to look pretty and quiet to have the world under her feet alongside a powerful king who does whatever he pleases.

“You're alive!” Yorozu exclaimed once, understanding the situation. Your strong morals had been corrupted by greed.

You couldn't hear her conversation with the king, but it couldn't be anything good. Yorozu smiled at you before creating a bow with its respective quiver with her cursed technique. You gripped the bow tightly out of stress. The battle was about to break out, and you only had one mission in mind: Incapacitate your sister. It was the best option so far. You could keep her alive without her being a constant threat against you.

“Hey, sister! Dodge this!” Yorozu exclaimed playfully, still pretending her role as a clumsy sister, as she pointed her bow and arrow at you.

“Is she going to be that direct?” You wondered about her bad plan, but you should have figured it out. You were dealing with Yorozu after all, she never had a plan. That's why she was such a troublemaker among the neighbors, always doing what she wanted without thinking clearly about the consequences. Ending up in a fist fight over her lousy ideas.

You stopped to wait for to shoot so you could get out of the way in time, but you noticed that she turned on her waist to the left. It reminded you of how Sukuna abruptly moved to kill a servant on their first day of practice together. Without a second thought, you pulled an arrow out of your quiver to aim it at Yorozu's arrow. Your eyes followed the target as you simultaneously released the string. The purple-feathered arrow streaked through the skies towards the head of one of the gardeners. Just a few inches from the fateful outcome, her arrow hit yours, completely deflecting it from its unfortunate target.

Your heart beat with joy at the fact that you had saved the poor man's life, but you were also furious that your sister wanted to hurt an innocent person. She was supposed to kill you, she didn't need to have done that. She had surely done it to get Sukuna's attention with her incredible abilities, but this was as far as she was going. It was time to fight back. Quickly, you took out another arrow to load the bow.

“Everyone! Get out of here! That's an order!” You bossed the servants in a commanding voice, just as you had heard Sukuna order his troops when practicing his strategies.

If Yorozu had tried to hurt one of the servants once, she wouldn't hesitate to try twice. Without hesitation, all the servants fled in terror to take shelter inside the weapons warehouse. The gardeners let the maids enter first, the only one missing was Mrs. Inoue, who faithfully stayed beside you. “She took care of the servants first so they wouldn’t get in her way. Good idea.” Sukuna was satisfied with your reaction.

“Good luck, miss,” Mrs. Inoue said before following the group while you loaded the bow.

“Go, now!” You ordered again.

“I must impress the king!” Yorozu proposed desperately before pulling the string again to hit Mrs. Inoue before she reached the warehouse. You took a deep breath as you looked at the shoulder Yorozu was holding the bow with. The time had come. Your fingers let go of the string while your shoulder was thrown back by inertia. Yorozu looked at the arrow in shock that was approaching her at high speed, she no longer had time to kill any servants. She put down her bow and raised a wall of the same concrete as the bridge to defend herself. Yorozu smiled, proud of her great defense, but it was soon erased when the arrow pierced the concrete and ended up piercing her shoulder completely.

“How the fuck did she do that?!” Yorozu thought, screaming in pain against the ground. The king, Uraume and Kenjaku looked at her surprised that a simple arrow could pierce the concrete.

“It's a good special grade bow.” Kenjaku whistled in amazement.

“It's not a cursed bow,” Uraume answered, somewhat scared as they watched the king's apprentice suffer on the ground.

Sukuna had a big smile from cheek to cheek. His little pawn was turning into a queen. He had never been so proud in his entire life. Her own sister would be the first victim of his future wife. He turned his face to look at you with all the pride in the world, but his smile was also erased when a white-feathered arrow brushed his cheek. Uraume and Kenjaku gasped in shock at the tremendous threat. A small trickle of blood rolled down the king's cheek until it stopped on his chin.

Sukuna analyzed you from head to toe. Your back was straight, your hands gripped the bow tightly, and your gaze was defiant. You were furious, not only with your sister, but also with him for involving her in their deal. You were directly challenging him to kill you because you didn't plan on killing your sister that easily. You could do many things for him, but attack your own flesh and blood, never. If he wanted you to get rid of her so badly, he should let you live after that threat.

Sukuna understood your anger. So much time of senseless orders, humiliation, and anxiety had brought you to the edge of madness, at some point you were going to explode. Sukuna licked his thumb to clean the blood in one go, healing the wound completely. He was going to let it go, but just this once.

"Yorozu," Sukuna called out to your sister as she screamed, she immediately shut up to listen to him. "Are you going to let your sister get away with this after this?" He asked her as he pointed to his hurt cheek.

"Of course not," Yorozu shrieked before stepping down the concrete wall to jump down onto the parade ground. You lowered your weapon as you watched your sister march upright towards you, even though the pain in her shoulder was consuming her. “Poor king, you hurt him because of your bad aim,” Yorozu said before pulling out the arrow, along with a muffled groan of pain as she moved her shoulder.

“It was on purpose,” you admitted angrily. “If I wanted to, I would have shot both your and the king’s heads through.” You raised your bow along with an arrow, aiming for her head.

“Trust me, you don’t want to do that,” Yorozu said, raising her hands.

“Why not?” you asked her.

“Who’s going to take care of Nanako and Mimiko?” Yorozu asked you with a “checkmate” smile. Your eyes widened at the sudden question.

“Where’s mom?” You asked her with a shaky voice as you lost your grip on the bow in helplessness.

“I killed her,” she replied with a smile. You lowered the bow in shock. “I killed her for what she did to you, for what she did to us,” she corrected herself as she approached you before moving her hand back to create a blade behind her back.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You hated your mother for what she had done to you, but never enough to kill her and leave your sisters motherless. You looked at Yorozu in shock as you realized what she was really capable of doing. You thought she didn’t hate you, that she just wanted what you had like any spoiled child, but you realized that she was more wicked than she looked. She was a bitch.

“Thank you,” you whispered to her, causing Yorozu to stop at the strange reaction.

“You’re welcome,” Yorozu replied with a smile.

“No, seriously…” You said before raising the bow again, aiming straight at her head. “Thanks for making this easier for me, bitch,” you replied as you let go of the string while staring at her head.

Yorozu gasped as she partially dodged the arrow as it tore her cheek. She lunged at you with the knife, but you stopped her by putting the bow between the two of you. She was too close to use an arrow. You pushed her away from you before grabbing another arrow from the quiver, but Yorozu was still so close that you couldn’t do anything but try to hit her with the bow. The brunette dodged it before taking the bow by force. They struggled with the weapon in a contemporary dance until Yorozu snatched it from your hands to use against you. She maneuvered it like a spear to knock you to the ground and hit you in the head. You turned to dodge it, but it only hit you in the back, knocking you completely to the ground. You stifled a scream as you felt the sting of the blow.

“You're not as strong anymore, are you?” She asked before wrapping her body in her green beetle armor.

It had improved quite a bit since you broke it with your fist, as not even Uraume's stalactites could pierce it in their brief confrontation the night before. With that on, she already had your death assured. She was about to prove to Sukuna that she wasn't a weakling after all. She was going to fight for that comfortable life you had and the love of the king.

Spending so much time with him, she felt his unconditional love growing more and more. The way he spoke only to her with that challenging tone, looked at her from head to toe, grabbed her tightly and got closer to her body every time they practiced a fight. He was a real man compared to the idiots she has met throughout her life. While he worked on his documents, she wrote him little love poems in her room that she would recite to him at their wedding. Every night, she rolled around in her bed as she imagined the king on top of her, fantasizing about him making her his until the sun came up in the morning. She woke up so wet that she only wished the next night would come soon.

Yorozu kicked you as she laughed out loud at the tremendous happiness that invaded her body, taking advantage of your weakness for having lost your weapon. You could feel Sukuna’s cold look of disappointment, while your only defensive move was to curl up into a ball like an armadillo. You had no chance of winning anymore, this was your end point. You were going to die here. You had a few good last months of life before your sister was about to take them from you. You cried quietly so as not to give your mortal opponent the benefit of hearing your last cry.

“I’m sorry. I have failed you, father, mother, Nanako, Mimiko, Mrs. Inoue, king…” you thought heartbroken as Yorozu exchanged the knife for a sword. “Once you learn, the song will sound more beautiful than you can imagine,” you thought of that day when Sukuna played the piano with you, when he slept with you, when you played chess. You wanted to have more moments like that with him, but that wouldn’t be possible. “I never learned,” you resigned yourself as you opened your eyes slightly while feeling the wrath of Yorozu’s heavy foot. You saw numerous servants in front of the window, watching the beating they were giving you, but you focused on Mrs. Inoue, who was crying while shouting words at you that you couldn’t understand.

“Thank you, Mrs. Inoue, for teaching me many things,” you thought of the year you spent together. In the good and bad times, in health and in illness, in the long days and the endless nights. You had also disappointed her, I wish you could thank her from the bottom of your heart for being her friend despite being so many years apart. “Don’t be silly, girl. You have everything it takes to be a true queen!” You remembered immediately, as if she had slapped you across the face to make you come to your senses.

Yorozu wielded the sword to cut off your head in a single movement, but you stopped it by grabbing it by the edge, cutting your hands deeply. Even though you had a leather glove on your dominant hand, the sword sliced ​​through your skin all the way to the bone. You bit your tongue to keep from screaming in pain as the sword bathed in your blood. Yorozu struggled with you so that the sword reached your neck, but you focused on her wrists. You kicked her wrists despite the muscle pain so that Yorozu would let go. As soon as Yorozu stepped back, you got up as fast as you could and grabbed the sword with all your willpower to hold it despite having injured hands. You wiped the tears from your eyes, but ended up staining your face with blood as you heard the cheers of the servants. That gave you the push you needed.

“Are you really that desperate to be the queen?” Yorozu scoffed.

“You still don’t get it, do you?” You asked her. “None of what I warned you about entered your hollow head? This is how things are in this castle. If I could go back to my quiet country life, I would in a heartbeat,” you announced to her in a voice rough with pain.

“You’re not serious, do you really want to go back to that dump?” Yorozu asked in disbelief.

“It’ll stop being a dump once I take you out,” you answered with a dry smile. Yorozu growled in response before creating another sword for herself.

The air was tense, charged with skin-tingling anticipation, as if the world itself held its breath. Long, sharp swords flashed in the dark afternoon sun, reflecting the steel that was being readied for the final battle. Both of them charged into combat. The first movement was sudden, an explosion of speed and clumsy clashes. The metallic sound of the swords clashing echoed in the air, like a powerful thunder before the storm. The sisters moved gracefully despite their clumsy feet, their bodies flowing from one attack to the next in a deadly ballet.

Your hands bled more and more each time you gripped the sword tightly. Your weak body could barely defend itself from the immense power your sister had, despite having a hole in her shoulder. You stared at her neck as you moved the sword clumsily. For some reason, you couldn't stop looking at that specific spot. It was as if your body was begging you to do it. You wanted to look away to focus on the fight, but your dense concentration didn't allow it. Yorozu, seeing in your gaze that you were lost in your mind, swung the sword backwards with a cry of pain to cut off your head in the middle of a movement. As soon as she raised her arms, you came back to yourself as if you had suddenly woken up. "Now!" you thought before swinging it at your sister's neck.

The spectators gasped as they saw how in a single movement you cut off your sister's head and both arms. A cold chill ran down Uraume's back as they witnessed it. They quickly reviewed the fight they had had with Yorozu the day before, they were one hundred percent sure that the swords Yorozu could create weren't that strong. If they couldn't cut through a piece of dry ice, they couldn't cut a human being so easily. "She... She has something..." they thought worriedly.

Your sister's incomplete body collapsed against the grass next to a waterfall of blood that bathed you completely. You lowered the sword as you breathed heavily. You were starting to feel dizzy, as if you had been hit by heat stroke. You dropped the weapon as you looked at your masterpiece. Your own little sister torn apart by your own hands. You carefully removed your leather glove to see how your hands had ended up, as if you had no idea what you had done. The cutting sheets fell open, allowing you to see that you were only made of flesh and blood like everyone else. You backed away from the body, staggering from the dizziness. You turned around to fall to your knees against the grass to throw up the strawberries you had eaten for breakfast. Looks like those strawberries wouldn't be yours either.

You looked terrible, worse than in the morning. Your face was covered in blood, your hands were wrecked, your dress was covered in your blood, your sister's blood, and vomit from having your sister's blood on you. At least, the colors of those three viscous liquids matched the red dress. You had cried so much that you felt like your eyes had dried up, so you decided to scream until you felt your vocal cords burning. Your sister didn't deserve a minute of silence like your father, she deserved to hear all the pain she had caused you with her incompetence. Your screams broke the wind that filled your lungs, scaring the crows from the trees.

“Fuck you, Yorozu!” You screamed from the depths of your soul. “I just wanted to take care of you, you jealous bitch! Nothing was good enough for you! Not our life, not the neighbor, not King Gojo! You had it all and yet, you decided to go for the worst option! Stupid whore!”

Sukuna watched you suffer, but something wasn't right. Seeing people suffer has been the biggest reason for his happiness in the millennium he's been alive. He thought that seeing you suffer would be the most rewarding thing in his life, but it wasn't. That great heaviness returned to his chest, as if he was about to jump off a cliff. It physically hurt him to see you in such a vulnerable and heartbroken posture. He gulped to try to deal with his pain, but that wasn't enough. Even though he loved watching you, this time he had to refrain.

You broke the helmet of the armor with the sword to reveal your sister's face. Her black eyes looked at you without any trace of life behind them. Your trembling fingers closed them, feeling the softness of her eyes to your touch. You brought her closer to your body to hug her while you brushed her long hair between your fingers.

“I'm sorry... I really didn't want it to end like this, seriously,” you whispered to her. “Say hello to dad or mom for me and our little sisters…,” you said before realizing what was most important now. You growled, getting upset with your sister again. “Damn, I can't say anything nice to you because now I have to clean up your messes,” you told her before taking off your dirty dress to stay in a corset and white bottom to present yourself before the king as clean as possible.

“Are you okay, my king?” Kenjaku asked him, worried.

“Yes…” He answered quietly. At the strange tone of voice, he cleared his throat. “Yes, better than ever. Plan B worked perfectly,” he answered with his usual strong tone.

Sukuna's plan originally came about as soon as he accepted Yorozu into the castle. He had only accepted her as his servant, and then apprentice, to eventually use her as a hostage to push you to kill some of the servants to save her life. The plan fell apart when everyone started to get fed up with her, except you. That's when plan B came in, that you would kill your sister for the sake of others. You were no longer a pawn, but you weren't a queen either. You were a tower faithful to your sense of justice that couldn't be easily knocked down.

"Actually, plan A would have been more fun to enjoy. This plan ended up being a bit sad, don't you think?" Kenjaku asked him, examining his face, which was downcast from the spectacle.

"My king, the lady is approaching," Uraume warned him as he watched you approach the group on the bridge.

Sukuna turned around to face you, but his heart began to beat like crazy when he saw you up close. Your hair unruly against the wind, your eyes red from anger, blood caking your face, your white clothes bloodied, your hands holding the head of a terrible opponent. Your hips moved subtly as you marched fiercely towards him. His cheeks reddened at the thought of the idea that his future heirs would emerge from there. He wanted to fall to his knees in front of you as he looked like a terrible tyrant who would do whatever it took to expand his kingdom. You looked exactly like he wanted you to look at his side. God, he couldn't wait to propose to you.

He reached into his pants pocket to take a small box he was carrying for the moment when you offered him the head of your victim. He was about to kneel immediately, but you did it first. You placed your sister's head in front of you before hiding your face in your aching hands. Sukuna didn't understand what you were doing.

“My almighty king, I bow before you to beg you to let me leave the castle,” you announced between tears.

“What?” Sukuna, Uraume and Kenjaku answered in unison.

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[tanuki-kimono]

Adorable black-ground obi with a colorful embroidered owl perched on a pine. I like how OP chose to pair it with a "crescent moon" patterned kimono (which are in fact a motif called tsuyu-shiba/dewy grass)