#i wandered round your darkened land all night but i lift up my eyes to a new high

[assorted-aesthetics]

there will be time by mumford & sons (feat baaba maal) released january 29th 2016 and crowley/aziraphale help me help me help me help me

[hxwks-gf]

» 𝖘𝖆𝖋𝖊

𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚝 

𝚠/𝚌: 𝟸.𝟷𝚔

The heavy winter rains wrought havoc on the old wood of the scout’s barracks. The storm had caught the regiment by surprise, the darkened clouds arriving to drown the sky in grey not long after Hange’s squad had deployed to the field. Pretty soon the street’s gutters were awash in murky rainwater, washing the cobblestones clean for the first time that season. Every few minutes, the sky would be illuminated by lightning, and soon after the thunder would rattle the window panes. 

Levi sat at his desk, surrounded by paperwork; reports that needed signing, applications for new gear that needed his approval, the list went on and on. He reached over and picked up his teacup as another round of thunder shook the barracks. He had always hated thunderstorms. 

Truthfully, he was drowning himself in his work because he needed something to distract him from the growing worry that plagued the pit of his stomach. But after a while, even his tea began to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. Levi sighed heavily and pushed away from his desk, running his hands over his tired eyes. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t focus. His thoughts kept wandering to Hange’s squad, and how they had most likely been caught in the storm somewhere on the other side of the wall, somewhere he couldn’t reach them, somewhere he couldn’t protect them. 

Levi got up from his chair and moved to stand at the window. The glow from the candle on his desk illuminated the raindrops that raced themselves down the glass, and his own reflection beyond them. He looked like hell. 

He could just barely make out the black, looming structure in the distance that was Wall Rose. Somewhere out there, he knew you were stuck in this rain, probably cold and miserable. An unexpected pang of anguish hit him in his chest, and he could feel his fingernails digging into his palms. Why did you go on this mission? Why didn’t you ask him to come with you? 

Levi turned away from the window and went back to his desk, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes. Of course, he knew why you went. Hange had asked for your help specifically in testing some new technology for capturing Titans for research, and Levi knew you were more than up for the task. You had proved to be a valuable soldier; adept in the field as well as the classroom. You were smart. Tactical. Refined. Of course Hange would ask for your help, anyone would. 

But that didn’t stop him from worrying. 

He poured a fresh cup of tea and mindlessly stirred it as he looked over some of the documents in front of him. A few moments later, he found himself glancing up and staring at his unmade bed--the sheets twisted and tangled with the pillows. He imagined you laying there, sound asleep, maybe with an arm hooked around one of the pillows and the blankets tucked in around your shoulders. You’d be snoring softly while he worked nearby, and he would silently curse you for being such a loud sleeper. But...you’d be safe. 

Levi stared at his empty bed for a few minutes more before swallowing roughly and glaring at his paperwork again. He no longer desired his tea, and he no longer desired working. He leaned over and blew out the candle, dousing his bedroom in darkness. 

“....Hange’s squad is expected to make their return this afternoon,” Erwin was saying, but Levi wasn’t paying attention. He stood at the window in the commander’s office with his arms crossed and his eyebrows knit together. 

“Levi,” Erwin said. 

“What?” he snapped, not looking at him. 

“Did you hear me?” 

Levi glared at the rainclouds that still hadn’t left the sky. The rains hadn’t stopped, not once since last night. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to look away from the window and focus on Erwin. “Yes,” he said, “I heard you.” 

“You seem unusually cross this morning.” 

“I couldn’t sleep.” Levi turned back to the window. “Damn thunder kept me up all night.” 

“I see.” Erwin flipped through some paperwork on his desk, reaching for his quill. After a few minutes of silence, the commander looked up at the captain again. “See anything interesting outside?” 

Levi made a noise of disgust and kept his grey eyes focused on the front gates, waiting to see it lift up and reveal you coming back to him--safe and uninjured. However, he knew it would be hours until the squad returned, and he would have to find something else to do to pass the time. Levi brushed some invisible dust from his black shirt and turned to leave Erwin’s office. As Levi muttered something to explain his departure, he heard frantic footsteps approaching the door. A moment later, and another scout burst through with a fearful expression on his face. 

“Sir!” he said as he saluted both men. “Hange’s squad was spotted from the wall, with a captured Titan in tow.” 

Levi’s heart leapt into his throat. He didn’t wait to see what else the scout had to say; he shoved past him and immediately made his way toward the armory, ignoring Erwin’s protests behind him. Levi expertly hefted on his ODM gear, not bothering to grab his coat, and promptly left the scout’s barracks. He barely felt the freezing rain pelting his cheeks and soaking his hair as he launched himself up the wall, landing gracefully on the surface and looking out over the wet, rolling hills beyond. 

There, in the distance, he saw the enormous Titan being carted along the muddy road. Alongside it were the squad members on their horses, making sure the straps held it in place and it didn’t break free. Levi did his best to try and count how many riders there were, but it was impossible in the rain. He only hoped you were among them. 

“Captain!” one of the soldiers on the wall called to him. “Sir, it’s freezing out here! You really should be wearing a coat--” 

“Binoculars,” Levi growled. 

“Y-yes, sir,” the soldier stammered, and held out his pair to him. 

Levi snatched them up and raised them to his eyes, focusing on the approaching team of scouts. He inwardly groaned at the sight of the Titan, it was a wonder they captured it at all. He could see Hange riding nearby, shouting orders at the rest of the squad with that strange, excited expression they always got whenever Hange was near a Titan. “Insane,” Levi muttered, and moved from face to face until--

His breath caught in his throat. There you were. The hood of your green cloak was pulled up to protect you from the rain as you gracefully trotted atop your horse, but it looked like you were absolutely soaked to the bone. Despite being in the freezing weather, you had a flush to your cheeks as you and Hange exchanged a silent, excited conversation, no doubt about what sort of tests you’d run on the disgusting creature first. You were spending entirely too much time with Four Eyes. Levi felt the worry slowly start to ebb away in his stomach when he decided you were safe, and you were almost home. He watched you through the binoculars a few minutes longer, and felt the ice that encased his heart begin to melt when you smiled and laughed at something Hange said, despite the rain dripping down your wet hair and over your cheeks. How is it that someone could be so...happy? In a world like this? Levi didn’t know if that made you weak, or if it made you strong. He would decide later. 

Once you and the rest of Hange’s squad made it to the gates, Levi shoved the binoculars back into the soldier’s hands and launched himself off the wall, swinging and gliding through the rain before landing effortlessly onto the street and waited for the stone gate to be lifted. 

It felt like a lifetime had passed when it finally was high enough to allow the captured Titan through, along with the rest of the horses surrounding it. Levi stood there with his arms crossed, his dark hair flat against his head from the rain. 

“Levi!” Hange gleefully shouted, but he dutifully ignored it. His eyes searched the squad for you, until they finally landed on their prize. 

“Captain!” you greeted as you slid from your horse, and Levi noticed the violent shiver that rocked through your body. But you grinned as you approached him, flexing your stiff fingers. “What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” 

“Yes, it is,” he growled, glaring at you. “You were supposed to be back last night.” 

“Well, yeah,” you said, turning to pull your saddlebags from your horse. “But the storm came out of nowhere and we had to make camp. Worst night of my life.” 

Levi’s nostrils flared. “You couldn’t send a rider?” 

You frowned at him. “Is something wrong, captain?” 

“No,” Levi said, rolling his shoulders. The cold was starting to sneak into his muscles. He turned away from you. “There’s some reports I’ll have you fill out, once you’ve had your gear inspected and the horses are brushed down. Come by my office later.” 

“Yes, sir,” you replied, still holding that confused expression. 

Levi said nothing else and began making his way back to the barracks, frustrated at Hange’s carelessness and the freezing, stinging rain. Why didn’t he take his coat with him? 

Hours later, Levi was back in the warm safety of his bedroom, finishing up the reports from the night before with a fresh pot of tea nearby. A knock sounded at the door. 

“Come in,” he said, not looking up. 

“Sir,” he heard your voice reply. No doubt you were standing in a salute, waiting for his instruction. Such a devoted little soldier. Levi set his pen down and looked up at you, and nearly fell out of his chair. 

You had changed out of your wet cloak and uniform, and opted for a fresh, clean pair of pants and a soft looking shirt that exposed part of your shoulders. Your hair, still wet from the rain, was slowly drying around your face, framing those flushed cheeks and bright eyes. Levi exhaled through his nose and gestured to a few loose pieces of paper, to which you picked up and pen and began signing your name at the bottom of each one. He watched you intently as you did so, admiring the way your hair fell over your shoulder. A minute later and you stood back, pushing the papers towards him. 

“There you go,” you replied, smiling. “Anything else?” 

“No,” Levi found himself saying. “That’s all.” 

“This might sound strange to ask,” you said, shifting from one foot to the other, as if afraid to say the next few words. Levi waited for you to finish. “Do you mind if I sit down for a moment? It was a rough mission, and my muscles are sore.” 

Levi blinked, but gestured to his bed nearby. With a grateful sigh, you sat down on the edge and fell backwards with a whump. 

“I’m tired,” he heard you say softly. “And cold.” 

Levi didn’t know what to reply with. Isn’t this what he wanted? For you to be safe and warm in his bed? “I was...worried about you,” he said aloud, staring at your elegant signature on the paper in front of him and clenching his jaw. “I was waiting for you to come home, to me. I know you’re a strong soldier, but that didn’t stop me from…” He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Look, what I’m trying to say is--” 

A gentle snore sounded from where you lay on his bed, and he realized you were asleep. Levi rolled his eyes and sighed. He set his pen down and walked over to his bed, staring down at your sleeping body halfway curled up underneath his blankets. He reached out and pulled them over the rest of you, carefully tucking them around your shoulders, his fingertips softly grazing the line of your jaw. 

Levi returned to his desk, picked up his teacup, and watched you sleep. The thunderstorm outside had subsided to a gentle pattering of raindrops on the window, and the flames that crackled in the fireplace nearby flooded the room with warmth. He watched the way your chest rose and fell with each breath you took, and listened to your quiet breathing and soft snores. As he picked up his pen to finish his reports, he had one thought in his mind: you were safe. 

That’s all he could ever ask for. 

[srose-foxfire]

Damirae Week 2021 - Day 5

“The Enchanted Rose” Day 5: Nightmares

Crimson red was all Raven could see. She turned and turned hoping to see anything that wasn’t covered in red.How could this had happened? She had felt so happy just moments ago she had been dancing the night away with Damian feeling so at peace and alive. He twirled her around that huge ballroom floor, he spun her so many times but not once did Raven ever get dizzy. She kept her gaze on Damian, for he was her center.

Once her feet were beginning to feel sore, Damian like the gentleman he was, escorted her back to her bedroom. After bidding her a goodnight Damian turned to leave but then stopped him as Raven lifted herself on his tiptoes to give him a small peck on his cheeks. Raven caught a small blush coat his cheeks as he bowed and then left her in her room. The last thing she saw was his tail wagging. She closed her door and went off to bed, falling deep into a sleep with a huge grin on her face.

Or that was she imagined her night to end like. Instead she was here, in her father’s lands, who she sworn she would never return to. This was the life she was born into and one she never wanted to accept as hers. Raven hugged herself tightly, wanting to escape whatever hell she had just entered. She looked down at her bare feet as a strange shadow started creeping itself towards her, turning her into the demon she feared she would become. Frightened, Raven cried out and held her head tightly in her hands.

“You have to stop letting these fears hold you down.”

Raven open her eyes and gaze towards who had spoken to. There in front of her stood a woman, wrapped in a white hooded cloak. She had her face hidden by the hood, all Raven could make out was her light pink lips and the ends of her black hair just barely peeking out from her shoulders.

“Who are you?” Raven asked.

The woman only smiled beneath her hood, “someone who wants to see you happy. Raven, you don’t need to fear him anymore…” then her smiled slowly turn into a frown, “but you are in danger.”

“Danger? Tell me-”

“I’m running out of time, listen to me carefully. Your friends will need you, when that time comes, call for our Great Mother and she will bestow upon you her blessing.”

Then a gust a wind started to pick up around Raven, her vision started to blur as the woman in front of her started to disappear. “Wait! Is this the Wayne’s, are they in danger because of me? Who are you?!”

“Raven, you hold a light so strong, a light of healing. You will light the darkness surrounding those now dear to you.”

With that Raven woke from her sleep, she clutched her chest as her whole body shivered. Raven scanned her room; nothing was out the norm, through her large bedroom window a full moon shined brilliantly casting away any shadows in her room. Next to her bed was the wooden perch, Sombra slept on. It had only been a dream, she thought to herself. She laid there, fully wide awake, reflecting what her dream could had meant and who could that womanbeen? She seems to know Raven well, but the young girl could never recollect, where she might have ever seen her.

Needing some time to calm herself, Raven stepped out of her bedroom put on her night gown and a silk cover up. She went downstairs to the castle’s kitchen and make herself a cup of tea. She assumed it was a little midnight as the full moon looked to have travel half the night sky. Though now the castle was always illuminated by candlelight. Raven arrived and busy herself to start the fire going underneath the stove top and placed a filled kettle over the flame. Once the water started to boil, she grabbed a tea pot, poured some loose dried lemon grass and hot water. As she waited while her tea seeped, Raven went on a hunt to find a teacup. As she hunted for a cup, Raven hadn’t noticed she wasn’t alone in the kitchen.

“What are you doing up?”

Startled Raven jumped and bumped her head under a cupboard. She hissed at the sudden pain and turn her face to snare at Damian as he stood by the doorway with his arms crossed. “Oh, it rude to sneak up on people!” She turned around and continue to look for the damn cup. “I couldn’t sleep… what are you doing up?”

“I’m always up at this hour.”

“Doing what?”

“Reminiscing” Damian came up from behind her and opened up a cabinet, just to her right; revealing three small shelves filled with assorted and expensive china teacups. “and looking over… somethingthat was left to me.”

“Oh…” Raven said nonchalantly as she grabbed one blue cup and then gestured toward him, “would you like me to pour you a cup?”

Damian gave her a small shrug, she walked around him and poured him some tea. She placed it the kitchen’s island counter, taking a seat and sipping her tea. She felt the drink warm and sooth her soul, making her forget the nightmare she had that had cause her to be awoken. Damian went ahead and sat across from her. He took the china cup and held it by the tips of his claws, careful not to break it. After taking a sip, he sighed, “you’re not going to ask what it is?”

Damian actually looked smug, like he wanted to rub whatever he had in her face. Raven placed her cup down as gently as she could, clasping her hand together, “I cannot believe you perceive me as some nosy girl-”

“You wandered the castle when I told you not to, you wentoutsidedespite me telling you not to go out-”

“You orderedme,” Raven pointed a finger at him, “I don’t do good being ordered around.”

“Touché… something seems to be bothering you. I want you to know you can speak to me.”

Should she tell him? Raven hadn’t had time to reflect on her dream, everything was coming back to her in vague pieces. Danger. That was what she had dreamt, she had felt she was in trouble and somehow her dream made the illusion of someone warning her to keep her eyes open. “I had this dream… well a nightmare of my old home.” That was the half-truth.

Damian clasped his hand together and leaned in closer, “you never once spoke about your home, or where you were headed when you… came to the castle. Did something happen to your homeland?”

“I was exiled.”

~~~~

Damian sat there as Raven told him her story.

“I am the daughter of a demon who governs lands cast in shadows and bloody rivers. Lord Trigon, who stands above all demons and dark magic wielders in all the realms. I was to be his successor, but I wasn’t what he hoped for. The part of me that doesn’t wished to harm others, cause destruction or how my father put it ‘kindhearted’, impeded me to ever fall to my demon side. My father believed my mother’s good nature was the caused for this. He had no use for me, proclaimed one of my lesser but more demon-like siblings would take his reign. So, without as much a goodbye he made me leave his lands. Good riddance, I never once turned back, the minute I stepped out of his forsaken lands, I felt free and alive.”

“Where were you planning to head off to?”

“My mother’s homeland. I never got to meet her; my father killed her when I was very young so I have no memory of her. I found an old journal she kept and there she described her home to be filled with light, a place where anyone could be accepted no matter who they are. My only problem is, she never once wrote the name of her home, so I was traveling blindly. I ask any village I passed through… and after receiving directions from this old woman… I ended up here.”

Damian felt a sharp pain in his chest as he continued to listen to her tale. Raven was heading towards a place she could be accepted and loved. She was heading where she could find a place to call home. Her home. Damian fought tears wanting to escape, he turned his head and looked away as he could feel his heart want to shatter, realizing he could never bring any good. He was a cursed beast, and the curse was designed to darken any light around him.

Here he had this brilliant and kind woman, who could had turned against him at any moment. Instead she brought him warmth and happiness he never believed he needed. What did he do in return? Take away her freedom, rob her of making her own choices. Why did he believe he could give her all the luxuries left in his castle to make her want to stay?

Damian needed to do something right for her, he needed to amend his wrongs and let her know she could maybe find peace here, with him.Just then an idea popped in his head. Damian allowed a small smile to grace his lips.

“Come. I would like to show you something.”

Damian extended his arm out for Raven to take. She timidly reaches for his paw, once she held him, very effortlessly he lifted her and guided the girl outside the kitchen. Keeping silent, Damian lead Raven through corridors, until they reach an open door near the entrance to one of his private and personal chambers. The opening lead to a spiral of stair wells that lead to a tower, Damian would spend much of time. Once the reach the top, it led into a grand torn down room. It was dusty, the walls were covered in spiderwebs, and in the far side of the space was an opening to a balcony.

They walked silently into the room and Damian nodded to Raven, signaling he was allowing her to inspect the room. “This was my own private study; I would come here to train or be away from my family.” He continues to watch her wonder around the large room and stopped as she gazes towards up a shredded portrait, one he destroyed of himself. “It’s the one place in the castle my siblings aren’t allowed to come. Excuse me for the mess, I find solace here since the curse was place. I wanted to show you this.”

Damian points towards a small round table near the exit to the balcony. There in the center of the table, a centerpiece was covered by a thin gray rag. Damian pulled it away, revealing a green rose, though it color was unusually dark. Raven gasp as she noticed the rose was covered by a glass covering and floated above the table’s surface, keeping perfectly still. Though instead of keeping upright, its rosebud was tilted to the side, almost as if it was wilting.

“It’s floating?” She asked.

“There was a rose garden my father had planted, a token for my mother it was his way he proposed to her. Green for her eyes. When she passed away, I took over the care for the roses, my way of keeping her memory alive and one of my closest treasures. When the witch cast the curse and she transformed me, she said she would take everything I held dear would be gone. My mother’s rose garden was burned to the ground, all the beautiful, fully bloomed rosebuds were destroyed. All but one.” Damian gestured towards the single last rose from his garden.

“It’s enchanted?” Raven continue to ponder as she viewed the mysterious flower from all angles.

“That is what I believe as well, it once shined and sparkled. Over the years it’s light simply started to dim, which is why it looks dead. Perhaps it’s was the witch’s way of saying that this curse will never be lifted, but I personally wish to see that some good could come out this.”

“I happen to imagine you view the world differently, correct? Trust me, coming from a line of demons give you that insight… may I?” Raven gestured towards the rose and Damian simply gave her a soft nod. He watched as she carefully removed the glass covering and placed it next to the rose. Raven slowly kept her placed her hands over it, not daring to touch it. She continues to move her hands all around almost as if she could really touch it and then the most marvelous thing happen.

Light. The green rose suddenly emitted a bright glow and burst with life again. The wilting rosebud soon rose itself upright, blooming and slowly spinning in Raven’s hands.  Small specks to what appeared to be the rose’s pollen, erupted resulting it looking like the rose was emitting green sparkles.

Damian took a few steps back as he watched his room be filled with this mysterious light and gazed upon the girl holding it. She has a light to share, Damian thought as the rose continued to shine and spun. Damian frowned and lowered his gaze as he knew what he had to do, even if he didn’t want it to happen.

Raven gasped softly and smiled, “Damian, do you see this? It’s beautiful, how do you think this happened-”

“Go.” Damian said rather harshly as he came between Raven and the rose, moving her hands away and covering the enchanted rose once again.

Raven turned to face him with her brows knitted together, she was about to speak when Damian interrupted her, “You are no longer my prisoner, you can go and find your mother’s land.”

“But I-”

Damian then turned his back towards her, his whole form was able to shield the rose’s glow, dimming the room back to the darkness he had become use to. He didn’t want to hear what she had to say, he fears if he did than he would never let her leave. Very hard he held back the tears and kept his voice stern, not letting himself brake before her. “Didn’t you hear me? I said go!” No, I want you to stay. “Go!” Please stay with me. “I don’t want you here! Get out of my sight!

Damian slightly glanced from the side; Raven was still there awestruck by the sudden change of his behavior no doubt. He growled, then turned his whole body, looming over the poor girl. Damian then let out a great and terrifying roared as the castle tremble beneath him. “GET OUT!” He slashed at an old chair next to him, making Raven back away towards a wall.

“Damian, what’s happening?” Raven said in a mere frightened whisper, her voice wanting to crack.

“Get out, I say! You have no business here; I don’t want you in my castle anymore!”

“Please stop.” Raven painfully begged, which only aggravated Damian even more.

Damian snarled, he could feel his eyes swell up with tears wanting to cascade, with a painful heart he cried out another terrifying roar, “GET OUT!”

With that Raven ran towards the door, her steps fading as she sprinted the stairs. In the distance he could hear her pet raven, Sombra squawked, the main castle’s doors opening and banging at their sudden opening. Damian walked to the tower’s balcony seeing Raven wrapped in an old worn out cloak, with Sombra flying at her side, fleeing from his castle never looking back and disappearing in the forest. Not being able to contain the pain in his chest, Damian slump down and let all the sorrows lodged in his heart out.

“Damian.”The young cursed prince looked up and saw his older brother Dick floating towards him. “What happened? Why did she leave? What did you do?”

“I let her go,” Damian said meekly as he stared down to the ground.  

Flabbergasted, Dick raised his hands towards his younger brother.“Why?”

Taking one final look at the illuminated green enchanted rose, Damian gave a wearily stare towards his half-brother, who knew more about love than him. “Because I love her.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Field of Spears.”

Hope you guys enjoy the story for today :)

They sky above was dark with rain clouds, they were thick, streaking the sky with great black streaks like someone had wiped their hand over a permanent marker while it was still wet. 

It was just the forefront of the storm, so the rain hadn’t yet come, and the wind had died down mostly. The clouds overhead moved quickly, and caused rolling waves of shadow over the land below.

That’s how she saw it at first, coming up over the rise as a wave of iridescent light spilled down from the clouds, and onto a glittering field of spears. There were hundreds of them, certainly thousands, and they stretched off in each direction as far as the eye could see. Some, those at the front, shone with the bright silver of highly polished metal, while those at the back were darkened with age and ash.

From this height, it looked like a forest, or a sea, and when the wind did decide to blow, the valley below her was whipped into great rippling waves of color, bright at the front with thousands of colorful moss-woven capes, and gradually fading black to a dull brown or even black with the other spears and their tarnished metal were the capes had been stained black with age.

The wind died, and the capes fell, like a bird’s feathers puffed up only to fall.

Sunny followed the track slowly, down into the valley, doing her best to keep her feet on the rocky terrain, and loose volcanic stone that made up the path before her. She wasn’t alone of course, a slow trickle of other Drev made their way into the valley their way slow and their heads bowed just like her.

She followed her way down onto the path and turned to where a the field of spears sat like a dense forest before her.

What looked to be the skulls of Drev, but were really just long disused helmets sat atop each one of the spears, all that remained of a thousand fallen warriors. Sunny followed her feet knowing where she was going even despite the years that had passed since she had visited this pace.

The Valley of the Fallen.

She stopped, in a spot that seemed indistinguishable from the rest, though somehow she knew it was right, pausing to approach two spears stood side by side, buried deep in the ground and welded upright by the glue of falling ash and rain.

She reached out, brushing the ash from one helmet and onto the ground before turning to bat as much of the ash as she could from the cloak. It had been many years and the fabric was well on its way to being saturated, so there wasn’t much left from the warm golden color that had once been, same with the other and the pearl white cloth that had once existed there.

She bowed her head kneeling on the ground before the last memory of her father.

In Drev belief, spirits were always recycled back into the wide spiritual world. Everything had a spirit, which meant thatcher father’s spirit was likely still around. Despite her upbringing, and despite everything that had happened to change the world of the Drev since she was a child, she still believed in the spiritual traditions and religion of her ancestors. That part of her had never been shaken.

So, she knelt to the ground slowly before the last memory of her father, raising her head to the helmet, which she could almost imagine as having him in it if she tried hard enough.

“I miss you.” She said softly, “Perhaps if you were here you would know how to help me, though perhaps that is only a wish of mine. Perhaps you would not understand like so many others, I like to think you would have tried though. “She sighed, “I am…. Alone. Perhaps I should have seen this coming, you don’t give the strength of your spear to someone who cannot lift it. But…. I suppose that is the way with humans. While they are like us in so many ways, there are things about them that are so alien. I Always assumed battle pairs fought together through the hard and the easy, but Humans see it a bit different. He says when you love something you have to let it go, and I don’t understand what that means. If you love something would you not want it to stay as close to you as possible…. Either way.” She turned her head to look down at the small round helmet and folded green cape that sat just below it, “As is the custom of our species…. I will never love again. I hope this is not seen as breaking the sanctity of this hollowed place for he is neither dead nor dying, but… A part of me has died….”

The wind picked up just then, and all around her a rainbow of colors rose up to flapped against the wind.

Lightning flashed over the mountains, and the field of spars glowed white for a single moment. She knew she should probably move, but didn't have the energy to care about the impending danger.

She hummed softly to herself as she stood, and turning her head to the sky, she Reached upwards, and Drove the but of the short metal spear into the soil with a loud crack. Lightning flashed overhead again.

WIth the spear firmly planted in the ground, she stepped back, and then softly reached up to pull the green cape over the tip. The fabric ripped on the point before catching and she slowly reached up placing the helmet on the point of the spear in a tradition that went back thousands of years. The right of the widow had been complete.

She stood staring at the Green cape as it billowed softly in the wind, illuminated by one more flash of lightning before she turned and made her way from that palace and the graveyard of memories.

It began to rain as she made her way from the last line of spears, and a loud crack of thunder illuminated the ground before her. It had likely caught one of the spears as it was so prone to doing during electrical storms, so she made her way hurriedly towards the rock overhang and a patch of tea moss, safe and away from the driving rain.

She sat herself on a ledge cross legged and with her blue cape wrapped tight around her shoulders as the wind blew little droplets towards her from the mouth of the overhang.

After a few moments a shape appeared out of the driving rain, and a figure broke through, shaking water from her pale peach carapace.

Sunny Stood slowly, and the other Drev froze, spear in hand.

“I didn't realize this outcrop was taken.” They stood against each other, “What clan are you from?”

“The wandering tribe.”

The other Drev stood straighter in surprise ‘The wandering tribe…. With the humans/”

Sunny nodded.

The other drev lowered her spear, “Might I share the dry with you/”

Sunny slowly seated herself and nodded motioning to the moss, “This land is not mine, so sit and be warm.”

And other Drev thankedher and took a seat.

She was a pretty little thing Sunny observed, still taller than her of course, by almost a foot, not particularly tall by Drev standards though however the color of her carapace was pleasant enough.

“You are here to observe the rights of the widowed?”

Sunny nodded, “I am.”

“I am sorry for your loss… I too am here for that. My battle partner died in glorious battle not more than a night ago. A spear to the throat, and a mound of corpses piled around him. She lifted her head in something that was almost like pride, “And yours?”

Sunny sighed.

“His past caught up with him.”

The other Drev tilted her head, “An old foe.”

She looked ou at the driving rain and the waterfalls that fell from above, “Yes, an old foe come back to haunt him.”

“I am sorry about that.”

They sat in silence for a moment before sunny lifted her head, “What is your name.”

The peach Drev Shifted to a more comfortable position, “Ralata and yours.”

“Chalan.” Sunny paused for a moment, “Perhaps it is none of my business but, how long were the two of you together.”

Ralata shrugged, “Couldn’t have been more than a year or two.”

Sunny nodded, ‘An how…. How do you cope with the idea of being alone for the rest of your life…. I know it is something that can be done, but it does seem daunting…. And lonely, I was just wondering if perhaps you could shed some light for me.”

Ralata raised her hands, ‘We are never alone when the spirits are with us. Life is fleeting when the universe is so old.”

Sunny couldnt help but be amused at the singularly Drev-like thought process it took to meet that conclusion, though she found it oddly comforting. 

“I suppose you are right.”

“There is more to life than a battle partner, there is the sky and the ground and the wind, and there is always glorious combat. If we cannot find solace in these things then we have lost the battle that is life.”

Sunny nodded slowly.

“Take comfort in your own solitude.”

“Your words have been helpful, thank you for bringing my thoughts back to the truth.”

She and Ralata spoke long into the night as the rain fell, mostly about combat, and about the past and about the wars they had fought in. Sunny told tales of her adventures on strange worlds and the odd creatures that she had met. Ralata seemed fascinated by the stories, though she had no inclination to go and see them for herself. 

Sunny found Ralata’s presence to be refreshing. In a way she reminded Sunny of Adam before his inner demons had taken away the spark, she was bubbly, happy, and talkative for a Drev, which was nice to fill the silence.

“Are you going to return home after this?” Ralata asked, “To your ship in the stars?”

Sunny shook her head, “Not at first, no, but eventually, yes.”

“What will you do in the meantime.”

Sunny paused not sure if she should tell this other drev what her plans were, having not entirely decided if she was going to do it or not. Once she verbalized it, it would be set in stone and she would have to do it. Not because this oher Drev new, she doubted she would ever see Ralata again, but because i she said it out loud she would feel obligated to do it.

After a long silence she finally spoke.

“I am making a pilgrimage to observe the Sacred ritual of Creation.” 

Ralata pulled back in shock, “Creation, but that hasn’t been done for a thousand years, no one even knows if the monk on the mountain still exists to guide that ritual.”

“Well I suppose I will find out.”

Ralata sat in silence for a long moment staring at Sunny with wide, Orange eyes, “You are brave I suppose, no one knows how long that ritual could take.”

Sunny tilted her head back to look up at the stars, “It doesn't matter how long it takes, hopefully there will be a place for me when I return 

[thesquireofcheddar]

To exalt, enthrone, establish and defend, To welcome home mankind's mysterious friend Wine, true begetter of all arts that be; Wine, privilege of the completely free; Wine the recorder; wine the sagely strong; Wine, bright avenger of sly-dealing wrong, Awake, Ausonian Muse, and sing the vineyard song!

Sing how the Charioteer from Asia came, And on his front the little dancing flame Which marked the God-head. Sing the Panther-team, The gilded Thrysus twirling, and the gleam Of cymbals through the darkness. Sing the drums. He comes; the young renewer of Hellas comes! The Seas await him. Those Aegean Seas Roll from the dawning, ponderous, ill at ease, In lifts of lead, whose cresting hardly breaks To ghostly foam, when suddenly there awakes A mountain glory inland. All the skies Are luminous; and amid the sea bird cries The mariner hears a morning breeze arise. Then goes the Pageant forward. The sea-way Silvers the feet of that august array Trailing above the waters, through the airs; And as they pass a wind before them bears The quickening word, the influence magical. The Islands have received it, marble-tall; The long shores of the mainland. Something fills The warm Euboean combes, the sacred hills Of Aulis and of Argos. Still they move Touching the City walls, the Temple grove, Till, far upon the horizon-glint, a gleam Of light, of trembling light, revealed they seem Turned to a cloud, but to a cloud that shines, And everywhere as they pass, the Vines! The Vines! The Vines, the conquering Vines! And the Vine breaths Her savour through the upland, empty heaths Of treeless wastes; the Vines have come to where The dark Pelasgian steep defends the lair Of the wolf's hiding; to the empty fields By Aufidus, the dry campaign that yields No harvest for the husbandman, but now Shall bear a nobler foison than the plough; To where, festooned along the tall elm trees, Tendrils are mirrored in Tyrrhenian seas; To where the South awaits them; even to where Stark, African informed of burning air, Upturned to Heaven the broad Hipponian plain Extends luxurious and invites the main. Guelma's a mother: barren Thaspsa breeds; And northward in the valleys, next the meads That sleep by misty river banks, the Vines Have struck to spread below the solemn pines. The Vines are on the roof-trees. All the Shrines And Homes of men are consecrate with Vines.

And now the task of that triumphant day Has reached to victory. In the reddening ray With all his train, from hard Iberian lands Fulfilled, apparent, that Creator stands Halted on Atlas. Far Beneath him, far, The strength of Ocean darkening and the star Beyond all shores. There is a silence made. It glorifies: and the gigantic shade Of Hercules adores him from the West. Dead Lucre: burnt Ambition: Wine is best.

But what are these that from the outer murk Of dense mephitic vapours creeping lurk To breathe foul airs from that corrupted well Which oozes slime along the floor of Hell? These are the stricken palsied brood of sin In whose vile veins, poor, poisonous and thin, Decoctions of embittered hatreds crawl: These are the Water-Drinkers, cursed all! On what gin-sodden Hags, what flaccid sires Bred these White Slugs from what exhaust desires? In what close prison's horror were their wiles Watched by what tyrant power with evil smiles; Or in what caverns, blocked from grace and air Received they, then, the mandates of despair? What! Must our race, our tragic race, that roam All exiled from our first, and final, home: That in one moment of temptation lost Our heritage, and now wander, hunger-tost Beyond the Gates (still speaking with our eyes For ever of remembered Paradise), Must we with every gift accepted, still, With every joy, receive attendant ill? Must some lewd evil follow all our good And muttering dog our brief beatitude?

A primal doom, inexorable, wise, Permitted, ordered, even these to rise. Even in the shadow of so bright a Lord Must swarm and propagate the filthy horde Debased, accursed I say, abhorrent and abhorred. Accursed and curse-bestowing. For whosoe'er Shall suffer their contagion, everywhere Falls from the estate of man and finds his end To the mere beverage of the beast condemned. For such as these in vain the Rhine has rolled Imperial centuries by hills of gold; For such as these the flashing Rhone shall rage In vain its lightning through the Hermitage Or level-browed divine Touraine receive The tribute of her vintages at eve. For such as these Burgundian heats in vain Swell the rich slope or load the empurpled plain. Bootless for such as these the mighty task Of bottling God the Father in a flask And leading all Creation down distilled To one small ardent sphere immensely filled. With memories empty, with experience null, With vapid eye-balls meaningless and dull They pass unblest through the unfruitful light; And when we open the bronze doors of Night, When we in high carousal, we reclined, Spur up to Heaven the still ascending mind, Pass with the all inspiring, to and fro, The torch of genius and the Muse's glow, They, lifeless, stare at vacancy alone Or plan mean traffic, or repeat their moan. We, when repose demands us, welcomed are In young white arms, like our great Exemplar Who, wearied with creation, takes his rest And sinks to sleep on Ariadne's breast. They through the darkness into darkness press Despised, abandoned and companionless. And when the course of either's sleep has run We leap to life like heralds of the sun; We from the couch in roseate mornings gay Salute as equals the exultant day While they, the unworthy, unrewarded, they The dank despisers of the Vine, arise To watch grey dawns and mourn indifferent skies.

Forget them! Form the Dionysian ring And pulse the ground, and Io, Io, sing.

Father Lenaean, to whom our strength belongs, Our loves, our wars, our laughter and our songs, Remember our inheritance, who praise Your glory in these last unhappy days When beauty sickens and a muddied robe Of baseness fouls the universal globe. Though all the Gods indignant and their train Abandon ruined man, do thou remain! By thee the vesture of our life was made, The Embattled Gate, the lordly Colonnade, The woven fabric's gracious hues, the sound Of trumpets, and the quivering fountain-round, And, indestructible, the Arch, and, high, The Shaft of Stone that stands against the sky, And, last, the guardian-genius of them, Rhyme, Come from beyond the world to conquer time: All these are thine, Lenaean.

By thee do seers the inward light discern; By thee the statue lives, the Gods return; By thee the thunder and the falling foam Of loud Acquoria's torrent call to Rome; Alba rejoices in a thousand springs, Gensano laughs, and Orvieto sings... But, Ah! With Orvieto, with that name Of dark, Eturian, subterranean flame The years dissolve. I am standing in that hour Of majesty Septembral, and the power Which swells the clusters when the nights are still With autumn stars on Orvieto hill.

Had these been mine, Ausonian Muse, to know The large contented oxen heaving slow; To count my sheaves at harvest; so to spend Perfected days in peace until the end; With every evening's dust of gold to hear The bells upon the pasture height, the clear Full horn of herdsmen gathering in the kine To ancient byres in hamlets Appenine, And crown abundant age with generous ease: Had these, Ausonian Muse, had these, had these.....

But since I would not, since I could not stay, Let me remember even in this my day How, when the ephemeral vision's lure is past All, all, must face their Passion at the last

Was there not one that did to Heaven complain How, driving through the midnight and the rain, He struck, the Atlantic seethe and surge before, Wrecked in the North along a lonely shore To make the lights of home and hear his name no more. Was there not one that from a desperate field Rode with no guerdon but a rifted shield; A name disherited; a broken sword; Wounds unrenowned; battle beneath no Lord; Strong blows, but on the void, and toil without reward.

When from the waste of such long labour done I too must leave the grape-ennobling sun And like the vineyard worker take my way Down the long shadows of declining day, Bend on the sombre plain my clouded sight And leave the mountain to the advancing night, Come to the term of all that was mine own With nothingness before me, and alone; Then to what hope of answer shall I turn? Comrade-Commander whom I dared not earn, What said You then to trembling friends and few? "A moment, and I drink it with you new: But in my Father's Kingdom." So, my Friend, Let not Your cup desert me in the end. But when the hour of mine adventure's near Just and benignant, let my youth appear Bearing a Chalice, open, golden, wide, With benediction graven on its side. So touch my dying lip: so bridge that deep: So pledge my waking from the gift of sleep, And, sacramental, raise me the Divine: Strong brother in God and last companion, Wine. Hilaire Belloc

[partyinthemysterymachine]

so open up my eyes to a new light i wandered 'round your darkened land all night but i lift up my eyes to a new high and indeed there would be time

but in the cold light, i live to love and adore you it's all that i am, it's all that i have

[annoyedfanfiction]

Growing Pains

angst angst angst angst

Obi-Wan x reader, inspired by Growing Pains by Maria Mena

“Have we considered,” Cody asked Anakin one evening, “That he hasn’t been, well, cared for since his Master died?” Obi-Wan was sitting a little further away from the crowded circle – not outside, but just far enough to not be touching. Anakin’s gaze followed Obi-Wan’s to his own Padawan, where she was laughing with Rex, sitting amongst the Clones. Knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder. Touch had always come naturally to him, and to her in turn. But Obi-Wan… since Anakin had grown out of his need for almost constant physical affection, so too had Obi-Wan grown away from touching him.

No one will tell you about the limit They put on how long you can grieve

“You have a Padawan to train, Knight Kenobi.” Mace’s face was hard and drawn. “There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no death, there is the Force. It is time to move on.” The funeral pyres had barely been put out. Only a week after Naboo. “He’s not doing anything wrong!” Anakin argued, eyes flashing, still bright and shiny and new to all of this. Mace looked down at him with distaste. “Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed, flatly. Anakin grumbled something, still glaring at Mace from beside his unseeing Master. “Is that all, Master Windu?”

No one will warn you when you're winning How heavy a lost love can be

“There was a girl, once,” he answered, eventually. “I don’t know if she was a Jedi… Certainly powerful with the Force. She was the first one to make him smile, after Qui-Gon… after Naboo.” “Not you?” Cody asked, curiously. “I mean, the General has always looked at you and Ahsoka as though you’re the greatest good in the galaxy.” Anakin chuckled, dryly. “Even when he’s mad.” “We grew into that,” he admitted, memory wandering back to the cynical, but kind boy who’d greeted him on Tatooine. “But (Y/N) was something special.”

They do not tell you about the friendships You'll lose once the lights are dimmed down

“Master Windu.” Even Obi-Wan’s gaze lifted at the new voice – you, standing in the doorway of the courtyard, emerald robes billowing around you. “I’ll take it from here.” Your tone brooked no argument, but Mace still hesitated, disapproval ready on his lips. “Or perhaps you’d like to further disgrace Qui-Gon’s ghost?” He physically flinched at that, and you could not find it within you to find any satisfaction in the reaction. “I’ll inform the Grand Master,” he hissed out, whirling past you into the Temple. You descended the steps slowly, gracefully, until he was out of sight, then you were running. Anakin almost wondered if your feet even touched the ground as you hurried towards them. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” And, for the first time since Obi-Wan had carried his Master’s body out of that generator, Anakin watched tears form in his eyes. “I couldn’t get a transport, and then – oh, Obi.” You let him melt into you, hiding his tears in your shoulder. “We’ll be alright.”

How humble you'll feel about your past bliss Once the tables have turned 'round

But I wanna tell you I got through The hardest of times on my own

“That doesn’t seem like making him smile,” Cody commented, dryly. Anakin whacked him in the shoulder. “Padawan Skywalker,” you smiled at him, pulling your door open. “And Obi-Wan. Come on in.” The space was, in many of the same ways Qui-Gon’s had been, not quite the stark, blank canvas of a Jedi’s room. A small bookshelf stood in one corner, books ranging from old Jedi texts to fairytales from around the galaxy to books on political history. A cracked kyber crystal glowed on one shelf, and a rack of spices spun on your kitchen counter. A couple of cushions, faded and worn, decorated your old couch, along with a patched throw. You had discarded your robe in favour of a light long-sleeved shirt to manage Coruscant’s oppressive summer heat. “Something smells delicious,” Obi-Wan commented, his voice still quiet, but brightening. “That’s promising. But I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see if I’ve lost my touch when you taste it, Knight Kenobi,” you smiled, quickly excusing yourself, leaving Anakin and Obi-Wan in the living room as you began serving dinner. You returned, balancing three bowls as you made your way towards the wooden dining table, bare except for the small pot of blooming vormur flowers in the centre. “Is that what I think it is?” Obi-Wan’s eyes widened as he and Anakin made their way to the table. “Stewjoni dumplings,” you grinned, triumphantly, finally coaxing a true smile out of Obi-Wan’s reserved deference. “It has not been so long that I have forgotten your favourite dish.”

I made some mistakes I made a few But I learned that I am strong

“So where’d she go, then?” Cody asked. Obi-Wan stood, and met Anakin’s gaze across the fire. He offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Anakin shrugged, noncommittally. “From what I gathered over her brief stay, she wasn’t particularly popular with the Council,” he explained, poking at the campfire with a stick. “She didn’t wear the typical robes, she back-chatted, she had normal emotions. Not exactly your ideal Jedi.” Obi-Wan disappeared back into the ship, leaving the rest of the soldiers to their brief respite.

And just because it hurts Doesn't mean it isn't worth it

“(Y/N) is a Mandalorian name,” Ahsoka pointed out the next day. Cody looked up at her in surprise. “What? I know things.” “Well, yes, but…” He trailed off. “You don’t think she could’ve been that (Y/N), do you?” Ahsoka raised an eyebrow. “Which one?” “Hey!” You dropped from the ceiling, landing on Maul’s shoulders and throwing him to the ground. Satine gasped a deep breath. “Why don’t you try that on someone your own size?” “So Kyr’am lives,” Maul hissed, spinning on his heel to face you. “You really should learn what titles mean before you say things like that.” You caught his blow, red clashing against white. “And you didn’t really think a little thing like a crash would kill me, did you?” “All the better,” he sneered. “I can kill you, then the Duchess, and see how Kenobi likes that.”

And even if it stings It's just a temporary thing

“A white lightsaber is a Grey Jedi thing,” Ahsoka hummed, thoughtfully. “So it could well be her. Sounds like Master Kenobi knew her, definitely.” “Kyr’am is basically a myth,” Cody told her, tiredly. “Her name literally means “death”. But she’s really just the General’s ex?” He paused, letting that register for a moment. “How does that even work? Jedi are sworn celibates.” “I’m pretty sure the only people who follow the Code to the letter are Master Windu and Master Yoda,” Ahsoka told him, matter-of-factly, “The former because he has a rod up his arse, and the latter because he’s 900 years old and no one wants to see that.” She clapped him on the back and strolled down the hallway, leaving him gaping after her.

I'm not saying that changing Won't cost you love won't make you cry,

“You’re making a mistake.” Your old Master sat across the room from you, smaller than you had seen him in a long time. “Disgrace us you do,” he answered, not meeting your eyes. “His judgement you cloud.” “We are not the ones whose judgement is clouded,” you retorted, holding your head high. Mace scoffed. “I am not the one making this decision from fear.” You looked around the chambers – a few cold eyes meeting yours, but most gazes shrinking from your defiance. “Fine. But know this – if any disgrace is done to the Force, it is done in this room. Not in the temples of Jedha. Not in the paths of the Grey. The Sith rise and threaten us all – threaten the very societies we live in; threaten our peace; threaten the prosperity that some among us have accrued; and threaten most of all the vulnerable among us. And you sit enthroned in your precious Temple passing judgement on those of us who do the dirty work you turn a blind eye to.” You met Mace’s eyes, and a sharp smile carved onto your darkened face. “This Council shames the Jedi and all that they have stood for. And you, Master,” you glared down at your Master, who was still adamantly avoiding your eyes, “Your 900 years have made you stubborn and unseeing, and the galaxy will pay for it.”

But it will all make sense... When the growing pains subside

“Jedha,” Anakin repeated, staring at Ahsoka and Cody as though they’d each sprouted another three heads. “You want me to look for a Mandalorian cryptid who may or may not be Obi-Wan’s ex on Jedha.” Ahsoka didn’t even have the courtesy to hesitate before nodding eagerly. “Have you considered that if I am the dubious one, this may be a mistake?”

Jedha was a cold planet – a desert, plummeted into icy frost on evening, dotted by frosted mesas. Having listened to nothing but wind humming in his ears for eight hours, Anakin almost didn’t notice the eerily familiar singing floating out of the abandoned mountaintop temple.

Nothing can shield you from the silence Nights spent on his side of the bed

The inside of the temple glowed with the warmth of a campfire, the gentle soothing of a song etched somewhere in his heart. He hesitated in the doorway, images of Padmé, of the life they could have, of her dead on stony ground. Fear and hope and love and bitterness, warring in his mind, weaved into the web of the song. He stepped inside.

Praying for help to please stop crying My life just got turned on its head

Shrouded in robes of the same emerald green, you sat cross-legged before the fire, upon which a small kettle boiled. You looked up at him – crows feet crinkling around the edges of the youthful eyes in his memory, a few hesitant streaks of silver streaking your hair like starlight. “You have grown.” You lifted the kettle from the fire. The mug was blissfully warm between his frozen hands as he crouched next to the fire. You watched him, placidly, sipping your own tea. “I am surprised I didn’t find you on a battlefield,” he admitted, eventually. You smiled, sadly. “This has taken some getting used to.” You peeled back your skirt to reveal a metal foot, exoskeletal braces disappearing up into your robe.

They fail to explain how complex love is... Like why I mostly miss him as a friend

“I am not the same woman I was when you and your Master knew me, Knight Skywalker.” Your fingers tapped a mesmerising rhythm into the metal mug. “Nor are we,” Anakin countered, grinning in the face of your flat gaze. “After 13 years, I’d imagine we’d change. And certainly, this war has changed us all.” He could feel your Force presence thrumming across from him, but could not read it – a hard wall struck up between the two of you, allowing him barely a glimpse of your familiar aura. You hummed, and returned your gaze to the fire.

Or how big of a blow, it was for my ego That she might be better for him

“I admit, I am confused as to why you are here.” You refused to look up at him. “Rather than on Mandalore. Satine is everything Obi-Wan needs, Anakin.” Here, you finally looked up at him. “A pacifist, she shares his ideals but is not afraid to challenge his methods. It cannot be a secret to you that they call me Kyr’am.” There were nights you laid awake, bathed in the light of your ‘saber, not tearing your gaze from the white plasma blade for fear that when you looked back it would be stained red. “Satine cared about Obi-Wan.” Cody’s words rang in his memory. “But not for him.” You pursed your lips, searching his face. For what, Anakin didn’t know.

But I wanna tell you I got through The hardest of times on my own

Landing on Vicondor in Anakin’s M ship was a surreal experience – trees parting around you to reveal two large troop carriers in the clearing. A crowd of clone troopers lazed around the clearing, clearly taking advantage of their brief respite from the war. A small Togruta girl hurried out from among them as you stepped out of the ship. “He’s coming and he’s mad,” she warned, “You better have his girlfriend on there or nothing is going to save us.” You poked your head out, and she immediately breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m –“ “Enjoy your midnight stroll?” Her introduction was immediately cut off by the cuttingly dry question. “How are you this morning, Master?” Anakin asked, too politely. “You retired early last night, are you quite well?” Peaking out from between Anakin and Ahsoka, you saw Obi-Wan narrow his eyes. “What are you up to?” Anakin failed to suppress a grin. “A Padawan of yours, up to something?” you asked, feigning incredulity, “What’s next, Master Windu smiling?”

I made some mistakes I made a few But I learned that I am strong

“Obi-Wan, you’re my best friend,” you told him, sternly, “But if you don’t sit still while I heal this so help me I will throw you back out there with the Fyrnocks.” “You wouldn’t dare,” he protested, nevertheless restricting himself to wincing at the anti-septic. “I dared to learn Jedha dark transfer. I dared to look Master Windu in the eye and tell him to pull the rod out of his arse. Don’t think I wouldn’t dare dangle you down there as bait, you reckless fool of a Jedi,” you scolded, the light glow of Force-healing now flitting around your fingertips.

And just because it hurts Doesn't mean it isn't worth it

“If I’m a reckless fool of a Jedi when I know I have one of the best healers in the Galaxy available,” Obi-Wan demanded, hauling you into his arms, “What does that make you?” Somewhere in the woods behind you were his men. Your men. Cody. Blasters dropping from their last shots – on their General. What choice did you have?

And even if it stings It's just a temporary thing

“It’s over, Anakin.” Mustafar burned around you, but you couldn’t focus on the battle. “I have the high ground.” Sweat streamed from your brow as you knelt over the frail body beside you, belly still swollen with the children she and Anakin should have raised together. Darkness flittered from your fingertips, and she gasped, eyes flying open. In an instant, you were carrying her to the ship. Weak, drooping, but still breathing.

And no one said that changing Won't cost you love won't make you cry,

The boy fretted in Padmé’s arms as you cradled the young girl – well fed, content, and drifting off to sleep. Blissfully unaware of the image haunting behind your eyes, behind Padmé’s, behind Obi-Wan’s. Anakin, broken and burning on that stony ground, eyes burning yellow.

But it will all make sense When the growing pains subside

Tatooine blistered before you all – a baby cradled in each of Padmé’s arms, your hand fixed on the hilt of a new songsteel blade you had gambled for while Obi-Wan bartered a price for a speeder to get you out of town. Lightsabers were too obvious – just a heavy weight, now, hidden beneath your emerald robes.

And just because it hurts Doesn't mean it isn't worth it

You sang Padmé to sleep that night, the twins tucked into a makeshift cot beside her bed. She was so young to have lost so much. Her parents. Her planet. Her husband. The Republic. And yet here she was, still fighting. For something. Something better. Something brighter. A world she could somehow see, behind all this pain, all this evil. A light that still shone in her eyes.

And even if it stings It's just a temporary thing

“How did I go so wrong?” Obi-Wan leant into your side, staring up at the ceiling. “I failed everyone. Qui-Gon. Satine. Anakin.” “You never failed me,” you countered, fingers sifting through his hair. “And it was the Order that failed Anakin. The Council.” You reached over and turned his chin so that he was looking at you. “You did the best you could for him. It was not your responsibility to protect him from the people responsible for helping you both.”

And no one said that changing Won't cost you love won't make you cry,

“If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.” Obi-Wan didn’t move, lightsaber holding Anakin’s steadily. You could hear Anakin scoff beneath the mask, and he struck forward. “No!” Luke. Obi-Wan fell. Immediately, the troopers turned, firing. You wondered if Anakin realised how your stomach churned at the sight of the familiar uniforms, almost expecting Cody’s smile, Rex’s sharp bark of laughter. You snatched up Obi-Wan’s lightsaber, clipping it to your belt, and ducking under Anakin’s blade as he struck at you.

But it will all make sense When the growing pains subside

“Run!” You could hear Obi-Wan shouting to Luke as your blade met Anakin’s. “It didn’t have to be this way,” you told Anakin, countering his next strike. “(Y/N)!” Leia shouted after you. You could hear the Falcon’s engines whirring in the background. “Go!” you yelled back, vividly aware of the rapid blaster fire around you. “We would’ve fought for you. We would have died for you.” “Shut up,” Anakin breathed, and you could almost hear the crack in his voice beneath the mask. You smiled, bitterly. “We loved you.” He thrust his ‘saber into your chest and the breath choked out of you in a shuddering gasp.

[fuckyeahkosukeniwa]

Of all the times to forget what he was supposed to do!

The chattering crowd pressed against him on all sides, making the summer heat positively boiling. Not many seemed to mind; their eager eyes turned upwards, waiting for the man of the hour to make his dramatic appearance. Yellow police tape separated them from the nervous officers, clutching their radios and holding their breath like everyone else.

Only one head of spiky black hair looked down. Kosuke searched his empty pockets for any clue about his role in tonight's heist. Emiko and her father wouldn't have sent him out here without a plan.

The mass of people let out a roar of cheers. Dark was here already!?

Kosuke pushed his way to the side of the crowd, only taking one elbow to the face in the process, and took in a clearer view of the museum lawn where some officers remained outside, possibly waiting to catch Dark during his escape. Rounding the side of the building, he saw more, as well as flash of black over by...

"Hey you! Stop!"

Kosuke let go of the police tape he'd crawled under and ran towards the building, eyes finally looking up to where he knew the thief had climbed out a darkened window. Dark's black wings seemed to be struggling to get any lift; any second now, he'd fall to the ground and be a sitting duck. If the officers' flashlights didn't reveal him first.

Three uniformed men stood before him, blinding flashlights pointed at Kosuke's face. He could see the light of two others from behind. They grabbed his arms and dragged him back towards the police tape.

"Ah! I'm so sorry! I just wanted to get a better look! G—guess I got lost!" He tried to smile, raising his shaking hands and praying they couldn't hear his heart pounding. Just a regular guy from the crowd who got too excited. Please don't turn around. Please ignore Dark crawling in the bushes along the museum.

Kosuke stumbled away, legs turned to jelly by the relief, once they had returned him to the "civilian" area and let him go with a harsh warning. He held a hand to his chest as he walked, fingers gripping the fabric of his loose t-shirt once or twice. That had been a close call for Daisuke! And himself.

But it was his fault he'd forgotten what to do and screwed things up in the first place.

Kosuke glanced behind and around him. No officers in pursuit, mercifully. No landmarks that rang a bell either. Azumano was a labyrinth of a district in Tokyo, and wandering into unexplored territory wasn't unheard of. Yet he thought he should at least recognize the areas around museums...

Stopping under a streetlight and looking ridiculously lost, Kosuke glanced around him once more as if the unfamiliar signs and buildings would confess the route home. Before he could continue, a black figure jumped from above, landing silently on the concrete sidewalk and stealing an alarmed shout from Kosuke.

"Dark! Where did you—" A gloved figure covered his mouth.

"Geez, could you be any louder?"

Dark could imitate any voice he wanted, even a feminine one like this, but the hand on his face was surprisingly small.

Kosuke nodded, mutely promising to be quieter. The figure waited a couple seconds, probably not trusting those curious brown eyes, before backing up. Under the light of a white streetlight stood a tall smear of black.

"Emiko-san!?"

The figure's red eyes widened. Before he could blink, she had dragged him into a nearby alley and released him just as suddenly, catching his arm with a sigh before he fell into a puddle. Once he seemed to fully regain his balance, the tight grip on his arm disappeared, and Kosuke resisted the urge to rub the dull ache left behind.

"You got it right the first time, genius. No need to keep guessing." A proud grin spread across "Dark's" lips.

Those sparkling red eyes, an uncommon color around here—in fact, he'd never seen anyone but his own family members with it—had looked overly familiar under the streetlight, but the dim alley illuminated just enough to take in the rest of her.

Save for the eyes, she looked nothing like Emiko. Her hair was long and straight, dark strands trailing loosely down her back. The woman's face was slimmer as well, with sharp cheekbones Emiko could only emulate through her more time-intensive disguises.

Maybe this was one of her disguises to distract the police from Daisuke? His hand touched his chin in thought; that didn't make sense.

But she still reminded him of Emiko and not at all.

A shiny black coat covered her shoulders, held together by a shinier chain on the front, with the sleeves loosely flying at her sides. Black gloves covered her hands, but her thin, muscular arms remained bare. A tight shirt hemmed with lace barely supported her big—

Kosuke jerked his eyes away, cheeks on fire.

Enough staring! He was a married man!

"Got nothing to say now?" She leaned closer, and he stepped back, sweating again from the summer heat. Probably.

"E—Excuse me! I mistook you for someone else! I should go... now," he answered with a shaking finger pointing towards the alley's exit.

"Really? Don't get all shy. You seemed more than a little interested in me earlier." Gloved fingers tapped the statue under her arm, a reminder of his antics at the heist.

Kosuke couldn't even begin to find an acceptable way to explain he'd mistaken her for his son.

"I was lost." His stiff shrug and wincing eyes did nothing to impress the thief.

Dark looked up at the stars and back down at him, eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hairline with flat disbelief. But Kosuke kept his lips shut, knowing from experience, a lot of it, that more words would just make his pathetic lies worse.

"Sure," she smiled eventually, a wide, feline thing. "Try not to get lost on your way home!" With that she disappeared into the sky, leaving a flurry of black feathers in her wake.

He fanned one of the tickling things out of his face as he watched the mysterious woman fly away, his mouth open in silent awe. He'd seen Daisuke and Dark fly many times, even did it himself once with With; the former memories were much more enjoyable than the latter. It was a sight he enjoyed from the ground, evidence of the ancient magic in the Niwas' blood.

Down the empty streets, Kosuke continued to turn the strange encounter with this new Dark over in his mind.

He got lost after all.

With no money for a payphone to call his wife or father, Kosuke settled for a secluded bench under a tree in the park. It was nostalgic, he thought as he laid down on the hard, bumpy wood. At least the season kept the nights warm, albeit stickily humid.

Over a decade of travels had made sleeping outdoors a common occurrence for him, and yet less than two years at home seemed to have already spoiled him. As he closed his eyes, he prayed he'd wake up and see Emiko sleeping beside him in their bed again.

Morning brought with it dew and a clearer head instead.

He shook the moisture out of his hair. A couple leaves and a twig fell out as well.

Kosuke wandered around town wearing the same clothes as the day before and wishing he could bathe. At least he wasn't too hungry; the previous day's excitement must have killed any appetite.

Azumano's streets were timeless, a testament to the artistic traditions that built it centuries ago. The people, however... Kosuke scanned the buildings that he passed, recognizing only half of the businesses. Half of those he vaguely remembered seeing once, before he'd ever left the country.

The sound of running behind him shattered any focus. At a dozen or so "Niwa-san!"s he whipped his head around in terror, just in time to see Emiko latch onto his arm with a hushed "Quick, pretend you're my boyfriend!"

The group of men shouting and calling their name nearly shoved each other out of the way to reach the couple first. Anything else they said was buried by their own din.

This seemed vaguely familiar too...

"I already told you all, I have a boyfriend!" Emiko spoke loud enough to reach their ears and sweetly enough to hold their devoted attention. Her arm wrapped tighter around Kosuke's for emphasis. "I'm sure you'll find someone else that's right for you. Bye!"

With one last dazzling wave—causing a chorus of lovestruck sighs—she dragged a stunned Kosuke down the street and away from the commotion. He finally looked at her, the bouncing red hair from her college days spilling over her shoulders. She wore a smart skirt that swished around her knees.

This was like... the first time they met.

Except there was no train station. And Dark was a gorgeous woman who dragged Kosuke into alleyways.

Could Dark actually be...?

Emiko still clung to his arm and weaved with him around fellow pedestrians on the sidewalk. He tried to focus each step and not his unkempt appearance or the warm tingling running up his limb... especially not the jealous eyes that stabbed daggers into his back.

After they rounded a corner and escaped the sight of her pursuers, she released him with chuckled thanks. Finally he could let out his own breath; no one else would ogle the strange couple's display of affection. Even as his racing heart began to settle, he rolled his now-freed wrist with no small amount of regret.

He'd missed Emiko.

He still missed his Emiko.

But maybe this one could explain what the hell had happened to him! His mind had already run through the possibilities from artwork malfunctions to head injuries, but he could use an expert's opinion.

"Emiko-san, why are you—"

"You know," she interrupted, nose lifted into the air as she walked briskly beside him. "We've never met before, but you're being pretty forward with me." Her serious red eyes met his surprised brown ones.

Kosuke tripped on a raised slab in the sidewalk, probably drawing back the attention of nosy passersby. Nervous energy bubbled from head to toe. "Please excuse me! I didn't mean to— I apologize, Niwa-san."

Emiko's face cracked into a bright smile, as breathtaking as ever but younger than he'd seen in a long time, "Tell me your name, and I might forgive you."

"Ni-" Her brows raised. Shit. That was a strong habit. "Kosuke. My name is Kosuke."

"Kosuke-san." She tested the name, finger on her lips in thought. His heart stung, remembering their real first meeting. He'd stumbled his way through that too, more shy than accidentally rude.

"I changed my mind; you can call me Emiko-san!"

Kosuke nodded, his throat unusually tight. He didn't know how else to respond. This wasn't whom he hoped to find. And yet this was Emiko, without a doubt.

"Don't tell my boyfriend about earlier, by the way!" she said with a conspiratorial wink.

Boyfriend!?

"I—" Kosuke coughed into a fist and let his eyes explore the street they walked down. People filtered in and out of shops, walking down the street hand in hand or bumping past each other in a rush. Azumano on the weekend brimmed with energy. More than a few conversations weighed in on Dark's heist last night. "I didn't know you actually had a boyfriend."

He wondered if the other man had been waiting to meet her when the crowd took chase. He wondered what he was like. How did they meet? Had he promised to father her phantom thief son?

But it wasn't his place to pry. And it probably wouldn't help the cold weight sinking from his throat to his stomach.

He and Emiko were strangers now. Somehow. Of course she'd find someone else.

No questions were necessary as she seemed more than happy to rave about her boyfriend anyway.

He was a great catch, she explained. Handsome and the youngest of four brothers. He was doting but gave her plenty of space. And being a taken woman meant other suitors wouldn't bother her... as much!

Her hands waved in excitement as she described their latest date on a ferry. He'd gone all out for a romantic dinner on the water. He clearly made her happy.

"Are you alright?" Curiosity replaced that happiness when she looked at him, and his shoulders dropped with guilt. Get it together, man.

"Yes, sorry. I was wondering..." Should he really ask it? Here? He'd spent a good chunk of the previous night burning with questions, and she had just raised a few more. If she really was the current Niwa heiress... "Does he know? About you and... uh..."

"Who?" She tilted her head, wavy hair flowing along with the movement.

Men and women on the sidewalk paused to look at the beautiful redhead walking past them. Kosuke ducked his head and leaned forward to whisper the thief's name in her ear. He still hadn't gotten used to the attention his wife attracted. Well, not his wife anymore...

Kosuke pulled away, his face's color the same as her hair, aware too late that he stood far too close to a woman who was not his wife.

"Sorry, that wasn't— Please excuse me again." He apologized a lot lately, didn't he?

Eyes that had once been innocently wide narrowed to match her sharp smirk. They approached at the next intersection in silence, where at once she turned onto a street with fewer people. Boxes replaced pedestrians in front of late-night noodle restaurants whose lights waited until evening for hungry salarymen. And perhaps phantom thieves.

"He doesn't know," she said matter-of-factly, eyes closed and nose raised in the air again.

"You're not going to deny it?" Kosuke gaped. Their son denied being Dark to the moon and back with everyone he met!

At that thought, his heart ached again. He missed someone who didn't even exist here...

"Why should I? It's not like anyone who matters would believe you." She wasn't wrong.

"Do you plan to tell him?"

"Is that really any of your business?" A red eyebrow raised again. "Do you interrogate every woman you meet?"

His two hands raised in front of him, and Kosuke almost apologized once more but she cut him off with a laugh. With a couple skips, she moved ahead and twirled around, hair bouncing along a second later. The hot sunlight caught the red waves, sparkling almost orange.

Emiko continued walking backwards so Kosuke continued forward, glancing ahead in case he needed to warn her of curbs or other obstacles on the sidewalk. She easily hopped around or over them before he could open his mouth. She was showing off and it was working.

"If I tell him, I can't be Dark anymore," she answered his previous question and stuffed her hands into her skirt's pockets.

"Because he might accept both of you?" Kosuke knew that Daiki had missed Dark when he left, but he had assumed it was something inevitable if not desirable.

"Not only that. He probably would though." Pink lips split into a happy smile. "On the off-chance that he doesn't accept, how else will I become Dark?"

"Can't you find someone new?" He cringed at his quick question. It wasn't like he was hoping to sweep in for the rebound—

"Oh? Are you volunteering, Kosuke-san?"

It really wasn't like that! He slapped his forehead while she pointed at his flushed cheeks and laughed.

Kosuke raised his searching eyes to the blue sky before returning them to her. One more thing. "I thought only men in the Niwa clan could become," he lowered his voice, "Dark?" She might not mind, but he was unused to discussing the family curse in the open air.

"You seem to know a lot about this." Her gaze took on a familiar shrewdness, the look she often wore when planning for the next heist or designing trap blueprints.

"I—" Kosuke stammered. He had been overly comfortable around her from the start, too used to relying on her shrewdness, not outmaneuvering it. "I'm just a researcher." It was his turn to shove his hands into his pockets.

Emiko hopped over to walk beside him again, leaning to see his down-turned face.

"Don't worry so much. I said it didn't matter." She winked. "Besides, you obviously don't know everything. Ladies make just as good thieves as the gentlemen!"

They reached the next intersection too soon, and Emiko bid him another dazzling goodbye while his head was still spinning with new information.

This wasn't exactly the world he remembered. Kosuke glanced around. This part of town wasn't what he remembered either.

By the time he found his way back to the park, the sun had begun to set. Kosuke settled on a bench in a different wooded area, hoping no policeman would find him tonight either.

Another warm night turned into another warm morning.

Kosuke didn't know how he lucked out—chalk it up to the odd jobs a researcher sometimes does for information in remote towns—but he found work and an apartment to stay in. Nothing fancy or spacious, a mere 4.5-tatami room, but there'd be no more beetles crawling up his shirt in the dead of night!

One advanced paycheck later, and he put food in his stomach for the first time in days. The bland steamed buns might as well have been a gourmet meal.

With a sigh of relief, he ran a hand through his newly-washed hair and put on a green apron. This shop owner deserved the best shelver he could be after so generously hiring him under the table. Going to Emiko's house and explaining the situation to her and her father was out of the question, but having no ID put most sources of income out of reach.

This small international grocery, wedged between a ramen shop and a sign-maker's business, was packed to the ceiling with colorful goods in dozens of languages he recognized but mostly couldn't read. Boxes filled the cramped aisles and nearly covered the lights on the ceiling, adding up to a hot and, most importantly, private atmosphere.

Kosuke had to admit, being only a street away from a museum was a huge plus as well.

Maybe he could ask an artwork in there for help. Or he could learn more about pieces that had been "disposed of" or left the country before his research for Daisuke had begun. If he ever returned home, this information could be useful!

As he cut open boxes and pulled out various bags of dried noodles, heavier thoughts nagged at him. What if he never returned home? What should he do about Emiko and Phantom Thief Dark? Did he need to do anything? She was happy here. Wasn't it better to live her dream like this, instead of devoting herself to finding a husband and raising a son to live it instead?

The plastic bags crunched and crinkled as he aligned them by shape and ingredients. He understood why she had worked so hard to raise Daisuke to be a thief. On their third date, she'd told him tales of her father's exploits, magic blood, and the sudden loss of her mother. He'd given her a handkerchief again, this time to wipe her eyes.

Niwa Emiko never cried tears of sadness; tears of joy, yes, she was a fountain of joy, but nothing could bring this talented beauty down— Or so he had heard adoring young men sigh in train stations she frequented.

Crying beside him on a park bench, she looked nothing like the unreachable mystery he'd admired for over a year. Niwa Emiko had reasons and dreams of her own, as well as a heart that reached out to help others even when it couldn't help itself. Maybe it was then he knew for sure he wanted to marry her.

How could he have resisted? She was brilliant and kind, often ridiculous with her over-the-top antics, but also awe-inspiring and sometimes frightening. He had wanted to spend his life uncovering every side of this surprising woman.

Kosuke cut another box, this one filled with shiny tins of strange teas and their strong odors. If a customer walked past, they might laugh at the sappy smile on this shelver's face. He remembered how proud their son made her each time he avoided deadly traps or brought home a treasure.

He missed his family with a piercing ache that grew each time he woke. It was his years of traveling all over again, but this time there was no easy road home. No Emiko waiting for him either. And yet...

And yet.

The boxy television by the cash register crackled out news from an excited journalist. Phantom Thief Dark announced her next target! Police were already preparing for the 9 PM heist! The latest artwork to catch her eye seemed to be—

Kosuke started and hid when the shop owner spotted him peering around the corner of his aisle, trying to catch a glimpse of the television screen.

He plunged into the next box with gusto, fighting back a guilty blush at being caught slacking. His ears reached for any information over the noisy bags of sweets in his hands.

Dark would be in the Lagalith Museum tonight! Just a street away!

The rest of the day passed in a haze, with endless restocking as waves of customers shopped. He'd only mistakenly pointed someone to the wrong aisle twice. Like a library, every product had a proper place; he just had to learn where.

Hanging his apron on a hook in the back room and thanking the shop owner, Kosuke stepped out of the building without a plan.

Emiko—no, Dark's heist wouldn't start for another hour. His stomach wasn't thrilled by the idea of dinner, but why? She was a professional thief, she'd be fine! Did he just want to see her again? What would he say?

His traitorous feet brought him to the yellow police tape in front of the building. A sizable crowd of journalists and Dark's most dedicated fans had already formed. He thought he saw a woman in plainclothes with long blue hair among the officers at the entrance of the museum, but the people shoving around him were too big a distraction.

In the end, Kosuke didn't speak with Dark.

He sweated along with the rest of the civilians, watching in awe as the sleek black figure flew through the sky on magnificent wings. He smiled, impressed as always, when she disappeared from sight. He held his breath when alarm bells rang out within the museum, imagining Dark dashing around and over officers, laughing triumphantly as she juggled a priceless vase between her gloved hands before escaping from a balcony into the night sky. All that remained of her visit was a confetti of black feathers over the area.

Kosuke stared up at the dark blue, stars invisible with all the searchlights around, long after the rest of the crowd dispersed. The excitement of the night's event thrummed in his veins as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. All the while, one thought replayed in his mind: Emiko was a phantom thief!

A damn good one.

Aside from the night he first met Emiko's Dark, she handled each heist masterfully, mocking the desperate security guards that always grabbed too slowly.

Each night he visited a different museum to watch her fly. Some close enough to his side of town to walk to, while for others he'd hop on a train and arrive halfway to the end.

He didn't know how, but Emiko found his workplace throughout this. She stopped by to browse, sometimes in disguise—and who would have guessed? A heist at the Lagalith Museum was announced later that day!—and stayed to talk. She would hold up any bottle of sauce or snack and teasingly ask him to translate or recommend one. If his boss minded at first, it was quickly smoothed over by Emiko's sweet flattery and shining personality.

Kosuke suspected her beauty brought in more customers too, but he kept that theory to himself.

She always left with an energetic wave and a stunning smile. Sometimes she threw him a wink and a "See you later!". His own waving hand lingered in the air afterwards, dizzied by the speed with which this woman came and went.

More than a few customers asked if she was single or, more disbelievingly, dating him. Kosuke had to explain each time that she was taken, but not by him. He wondered when she'd introduce him to her boyfriend but didn't look forward to it and didn't ask. The shelves ended up organized to perfection on days with those wonderings.

After a day with no visit from Emiko, Kosuke slowly hung up his apron and walked into the summer air. Orange light from the setting sun cast deep blue shadows on half the street. He sought some relief from the endless heat in them. As he stepped down the curb to cross the intersection to his apartment, a strong hand dragged him sideways.

"Emiko got a bit too flustered earlier so it's my turn to have fun."

"Da—" Her hand covered his mouth, the soft skin, with a few callouses on the fingertips, pressed into his suddenly already overwarm face. Kosuke reviewed the turn of events in his swirling mind.

Emiko had mentioned going out somewhere with her boyfriend this week... Ah. Kosuke wasn't sure how to feel about her date being interrupted by the Niwa love genes.

He jumped back and she lifted her hands into the air with a gentle smile. Making peace?

"You got some place to be?" He tilted her head to the side, loose black hair following in a silk wave. She almost looked out of place in Emiko's bright clothes and a cutesy purse covered in rabbit keychains dangling from her arm.

"No, I just..." Why was it so hard to speak to this woman? She was Emiko, wasn't she? Or a part of her... "I was just going home."

He bowed and started to turn around, heart rate still not settled after the exciting abduction by the thief.

"And what, you can't talk to me first?" Her lean arms crossed under her breasts, which were slightly too big for her flowery dress and— and anyway—

Kosuke shook his head, eyes flitting up and down the street in case they caused a scene. It was mostly deserted. "No. I— I mean, yes, I can talk! Is here okay? Ah, or should we..."

She rested her weight on one leg, the hem of her dress swinging around her bare knees, and said nothing when he trailed off. Kosuke rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the scrutiny... and everything else about this situation.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked lamely, losing out to her mocking patience.

"You pick!" Dark rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You show up at every one of my heists, but when I finally give you the time of day, you run away! What's your deal?"

Why did he go to all her heists?

On days when he didn't participate, Kosuke had been content to watch Daisuke's criminal activities from the couch with his father-in-law. He knew Daisuke and Dark were an incredible team, but—call it fatherly instinct—he'd spent each of their heists wondering if this would be the night it all went wrong. His family could take care of themselves and had backup plans for everything; he knew that, but he worried all the while, useless on the couch.

He didn't worry about this Dark in front of him, on the other hand. She'd proven to be an amazing thief. So why?

"I'm not sure," Kosuke said, feeling more and more foolish.

"Maybe you were hoping to see me again?" Her predatory grin moving closer would have made Kosuke flush if blood weren't already draining out of his face. Emiko could be listening to their conversation!

Dark must have figured out his feelings for Emiko. What if she told? Would that ruin the strange friendship they'd built?

Was there really no chance for something more? He managed to marry her in one lifetime already!

Another question replaced those, and Kosuke opened his mouth, hand hovering over his chin as he stared at Dark.

"What, Kosuke?" The name—his own wife had never said it so bluntly—broke the spell.

"Da— Sorry, uh, Miss?" From the corner of his eye, Kosuke watched a delivery boy on a bike ride past them on the street. "Why did you come here instead of staying with Emiko's boyfriend? Shouldn't you like him too?"

"She wasn't kidding when she said you were nosy as hell." She said that!?

That was an imprudent question anyway. Kosuke's hand rose and combed through his sticky hair. His apartment wouldn't be much cooler than the shade they stood in.

"Would you mind taking a walk with me? There's a great park nearby."

"If you promise to never call me Miss again. Go ahead and use my name if you have to."

Dark latched onto his arm and told him to lead the way, but with her fast pace, he swore the roles were reversed. As far as directions went, he'd point and say "We turn th—" and she swiftly pulled him that way.

Besides those words, they didn't talk during the journey. Dark wore a playful smile the entire time, and said nothing along the way. She was the opposite of Emiko's talkative sunniness, which was always ready to share a story or make small talk. As for him, he'd stuck his foot in his mouth enough today and kept it closed.

Kosuke eventually lost the blush spurred by Dark's body pressed against him. Once or twice he'd tried to subtly reclaim his stolen arm, but she didn't notice or didn't care.

"This is it?" she asked as they stepped onto the walkway that split the grass. "It doesn't look that great." The sun had only just set, covering everything from bushes to benches in darkening blue light.

"I come here a lot to think," Kosuke admitted. "I like how peaceful it is at night."

"Don't you spend enough time in your head as it is?" Dark teased, softly knocking his head with a fist. Kosuke laughed quietly, surprising himself.

"Probably. But it's what I'm best at." Reading, recalling information, taking notes, connecting dots. It had taken over fourteen years, but he could say he'd honed those skills at least.

Dark let go, stretching her long arms over her head. The fresh air on his own was chilly compared to the furnace of body heat from before.

They walked side by side in the growing darkness.

"What do you think about me?" She broke the silence sometime later.

Kosuke looked ahead, as far as he could see through the scattered trees. "... I don't know," he admitted again. He still didn't know how he felt about Daisuke's Dark. He was there. He was a mystery. He was a member of the family.

And she was...?

"Okay, well, this was an exciting date. I'm off to do something even more daring, like color-coding Emiko's socks! See you!" With popped out of her purse and transformed into huge black wings. Before Kosuke could say goodbye, the thief and rabbit lifted off into the sky, leaving him with nothing but an empty park.

After the confusing conversation with Dark, Kosuke mentioned his interest in researching artworks to Emiko on her next visit, offering to gather information on any pieces she owned or was interested in. She snickered and thanked him but did mention a painting she'd had her eye on. No special reason, she just wanted it.

That was enough for him. Kosuke buried himself in books in the various libraries around town, filling notebooks with information on each of Emiko's targets over the weeks.

Sometimes she snuck through the open window of his stuffy apartment to watch, catching the falling books from a tower he'd bumped into out of shock.

"You could use a bigger place to live."

"It's just me so it's fine." He reassured her each time.

He didn't mind, really.

In his heart, he was actually being rather selfish. Because, alone or not, it felt like home to help the Niwa family again. When he lost himself in the texts and histories, he could forget that this wasn't his old life anymore. The extra time with Emiko was a bonus he'd never turn down.

Sometimes he wondered if Emiko's boyfriend knew where she spent her time. Sometimes he wondered what the neighbors thought of the strange woman's voice that laughed and told loud stories in his room at all hours of the night, but whose owner was never seen walking in or out of a door.

Once, Emiko climbed through his window with her arms full of grocery bags. Paying no mind to his insistence that she was his guest to feed, she cooked them both dinner with a declaration that she needed the practice and he made a good guinea pig.

"So? How does it taste?"

They had spread his futon onto the floor and sat on it, plates in their laps for lack of a table or chairs. Kosuke's bamboo chopsticks poked at the overcooked chunks of meat and unevenly chopped vegetables. She wasn't kidding when she said she needed practice. Thieving must take up a lot of time that had been devoted to other hobbies, in another life.

But familiar flavors lingered on his tongue, red pepper and a hint of honey. He remembered many meals at home with these, and it was at once so dear and nostalgic, he could only nod.

"Come on, I need more than that!" Emiko nudged him with her elbow, dabbing her sweaty face with a towel at the same time. Even with an open window, two bodies and a countertop stove made a lot of heat in this small room!

Kosuke swallowed and found his voice, "I like it. Thank you, Emiko-san." He meant it.

She raised her arms in victory, laughing and promising to bring more food, completely ignoring any and all polite refusals.

Sometimes Dark visited instead of Emiko, usually waiting for him to return from watching her latest heist. She'd proudly tell him how it all went down inside the museum with the police, answering his questions or scoffing at the simplicity of them, but smiling all the while.

And that was how the three of them spent their summer.

On one clear evening, he cut through his usual park on the way home from a heist.

This one had gone on later than usual, something about a new security system by a special commander, and his feet ached with each step. Kosuke flopped down onto the park bench in a wooded area, remembering the night he'd spent there earlier in the season. A lot had happened since then.

The shop owner and frequent customers were kind to him. They often invited him out for drinks, which he occasionally accepted. The bulk of his free time went into researching or chatting with Emiko and Dark. It wasn't bad. In fact, he always looked forward to the days when he'd see one or the other.

He titled his head back, resting it on the cool wood and staring at the sparkling stars.

But were his son, father-in-law, and his Emiko out there? Would he ever see them again? He'd found nothing in the museums or libraries to explain his situation. Every lead quickly hit a dead end.

This really might become his new, permanent life.

Kosuke closed his stinging eyes.

And what then?

"What are you thinking about now?"

Kosuke's eyes flew open and then slammed shut, not expecting the bright sunlight that blinded them. His neck cracked and twinged with each movement as he lifted it from the hard bench. A numb hand clumsily rubbed his eyes.

When he finally stopped blinking, Emiko's curious face came into view.

"Emiko-san! Why are you here?"

"You weren't at the shop or apartment so it had to be the park." The shop..! He must be late for work!

"Did you spend the night here?" She chuckled softly and pulled a leaf out of his spiky hair. Apparently he had.

"Not intentionally..." Kosuke rubbed his sore neck. He shakily stood, taking a few steps forward before turning around to look at her.

Niwa Emiko.

Her wild red hair spilled over her shoulders as usual, shining brighter amongst the blue sky and green vegetation. Hands in pockets, she amusedly watched him smooth his wrinkled shirt and gather his wits.

His heart pounded in his chest, not entirely from the sudden awakening. Work could wait. He'd thought enough last night and all the weeks before. Maybe some of that Niwa bravery had finally rubbed off on him?

"Emiko-san, please go out with me!"

Despite his inner monologue, it wasn't an impressive or dramatic confession by any means. Children and friends and dogs carried on in the park, making noise all the while. Trees gave them some semblance of privacy at least.

"Kosuke-san, you know I'm already seeing someone..." It must grow tiring, having this same conversation with so many men. And he proved to be no better than them. No, worse than them; she'd shared her secrets with him, and look at what he ended up doing anyway.

Emiko herself didn't look terribly disappointed at least. She looked...

"I know." Kosuke couldn't meet her warm gaze anymore as guilt and resolve warred inside. "And I know how important being Dark is to you. I don't want to change who you are or take her away.

"But... being part of your life is important to me too." His words were quiet and steady. "I don't want to give that up either."

She kept silent. But there was no taking it back now.

Slowly, he raised his heavy eyes and saw that Emiko had been replaced.

"You've got nerve! So you just waltz over, say a few sweet lines, and take whoever you want?" Dark drawled, tossing her long, dark hair over her shoulder. A breeze picked up, sailing through the grass and trees, mussing their hair further.

Kosuke stared at the beautiful thief, his surprised face gradually becoming earnest again. He'd said his piece. He wanted to share his life with Emiko again. All of her.

"No wonder we picked you," she continued with a tilt of her head, looking him up and down with sparkling red eyes and an appreciative grin. "Niwa Kosuke."

"You—huh?" Kosuke's coherence slipped away along with any idea of what was happening.

Why did she—

—

Kosuke opened his eyes in a dark room, listening to the quiet breathing beside him for several seconds before he looked down.

And screamed.

He kicked haphazardly at the strange striped beast sitting on the foot of his bed. It jumped and landed beside him, spinning into a triumphant pose before rolling onto half of his pillow.

"Haha! Not nearly as fast as your Dai-chan!" Baku, the latest artwork to join their family, stretched his front hooves high and dared Kosuke to try again.

Kosuke pulled the tangled sheets back over his legs, hands shaking along to his pounding heart. Just when he thought he'd adapted to life in the Niwa home, something new arrived to make everything ridiculous again.

Wide brown eyes scanned once more the room lit by pale slivers of moon and streetlight, as if the park and Dark were hiding in a corner, rather than in... a dream?

Emiko poked the tapir's squishy belly and tiredly scolded, "Be nice." Baku miraculously settled down with only a roll of his uncovered eye.

"Sorry to wake you, Emiko-san." Kosuke rubbed a hand over his face and sighed in relief. Despite its shocks, it was good to be home.

"Don't worry about it, dear." He was all too aware of the unwelcome guest nestled between them, listening to every word. "It was time to wake up anyway."

"But it's not yet 5 AM..." Kosuke spied the digital clock on her nightstand through his fingers. Even his dedicated wife didn't get up this early to set traps... as far as he knew.

"It felt longer than one night, right? Dreams are amazing!" She laid a hand on her cheek and sighed wistfully, "And that's what it feels like to fly. You never said it was so freeing!"

Kosuke shuddered at the reminder of his flight with With a couple weeks ago. "Freeing would be the last word I use to describe— Wait, you...? I also had a dream that you flew!"

Baku broke in, "It was the lady's dream, bub. A damn tasty one too. But you went and stuck your head in where it didn't belong." At that, Emiko tapped the tapir's head and shooed him away. He hopped over Kosuke's legs onto the floor and sauntered out the cracked door, swinging it open completely with his rump.

Kosuke waited until the sound of foot-(hoof?)-steps disappeared down the hall. "I must have spoiled your time as Dark... If I had known, I wouldn't have..." What? Tried to win her back? Spoken to her at all?

She deserved to enjoy her time as a phantom thief, at the very least. He bowed his head in apology. He could have also enjoyed her happiness from afar.

Thin fingers lifted his chin, and he stared down at her warm eyes, still heavy with the last remnants of sleep. "Oh, Kosuke-san, you didn't understand? I had fun! Being Dark was even better than I had imagined it to be. I'll thank Baku in the morning for his prank, just this once." Good dream or not, Kosuke was already considering locking their bedroom door to keep out future late-night visitors.

"I have to thank you too," she went on. Her smile softened at his confused expression. Those fingers reached further to the back of his head and pulled his face closer to hers. "My dream wouldn't have been complete without you there." Public or private, her frank affection never failed to make him blush.

Kosuke remembered their adventure with strange clarity: the amazing phantom thief flying above, their chance meetings and conversations, time with his then-not-wife, an impulsive confession his younger self couldn't have dreamed of making. Dark's words echoed in his ears.

Ah.

He finally understood his role.

He rubbed his neck, hand stopping over where hers still rested. Kosuke shyly returned her smile.

"My Kosuke-san played the best sacred maiden."

Her delighted laughter drowned out his embarrassed "Emiko-san!". For a moment Kosuke swore there was long, dark hair framing his wife's cheeky grin. But only a moment, and then she pulled him into a kiss.

THE END

[starcountesseevee]

A Rocket Coincidence (Part 7)

Part 6 / Part 8

     It would be mid-afternoon before the rest of the matches would be wrapped up but Kali had decided to stay close to the stadium so when the finalists were announced she would be nearby to see them, although she had a sinking feeling she wasn't going to be moving forward. The only stop she made was to the Nurse Joy hospital at the Pokecenter to turn over her Eeveelutions for healing before it got too crowded. It seemed, however, she wasn’t the only one who had that idea; as she was entering she saw Lance handing over some pokeballs to Nurse Joy as well. She steered clear of him but if looks could kill Kali was sure she would have been dead. Fortunately there seemed to be enough people nearby that he held his temper. 

     Being in town for a competition Kali had felt confident enough to leave all her Eeveelutions with Nurse Joy for the night. There wouldn't be any wild Onix crashing through the woods here she would have to defend against and battling outside the competition was strictly prohibited. Meaning Cliff wouldn't be able to challenge her again here she laughed to herself. Although his attitude seemed to have changed once he was aware she wasn't on a team. Typical leader for you. 

     Kali was about to find a seat in the stadium to watch the last few matches but a familiar face caught her attention. Maddie was waving at her but this time she wasn’t with her brother. 

     “Hey! How’d you do?” Maddie was bubbly as always and didn’t wait for Kalysta to respond before continuing. “I lost all three of my matches unfortunately, there are some really great trainers here! But oh well, that just means I have to train more and come back again!” Kali couldn’t help but admire the girl’s outlook. “Were you gonna watch the last matches? You should come sit with us!” Maddie motioned for her to follow. Kali had assumed the younger girl had meant Noah when she said ‘us’ but instead found herself sitting with two other girls that looked about Maddie’s age and were all, surprise surprise, on Team Instinct. Maddie had Kali confirm that yes Spark had indeed hugged her and when they all began giggling Kali felt like an old lady. Maybe not quite old enough to be their mom, Kali mused, but definitely an older sister, much older sister. 

     After the last match Kali waved Maddie and her friends on as she hung back. She watched the stadium empty as she waited for the match results to be announced. When her group was finally displayed it was as she expected, with only four points she did not move on to the finals. Kali took a deep breath, allowing herself a few moments of disappointment before getting up. It was getting close to dinnertime but she wasn’t really hungry. Instead she wandered around the vendor stalls, picking up a couple souvenirs to bring back for Mara, until the sun began setting. 

     Several of the vendors were beginning to close up as the street grew less crowded. Kali checked the time knowing she should probably be heading back to the dormitory but instead found herself wandering through the empty pre-screening courts, she wasn’t ready to go back and listen to Maddie’s chatter quite yet. She was about to text Mara when a rustling from the other end of one of the courts caught her attention. Two teenagers darted out, laughing as they ran towards the main road. Clearly Kali’s presence had interrupted their little rendezvous. 

     “Yeah, that’s her.” Kali turned at the new voice. Lance was sauntering up the path trailed by two other boys, a malicious smile on his face. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow as she waited to find out what all this was about. 

     “You know, I’m here to prove to Team Rocket that I’m good enough to join them and you made me look weak.” Lance took a few steps closer as the other two hung back. 

     “Looks like you don’t need my help to do that.” 

     “Think you’re still so tough, huh? Even without your pokemon to help?” 

     Shit. She had already forgotten he had seen her at the Nurse Joy hospital earlier. 

     “That’s what I thought.” Lance cracked his knuckles. “Now I think you owe me an apology.” 

     “That’s not gonna happen.” Kali eyed up the boys. Out of the three Lance was definitely the leader of the pack and the other two seemed like they were only there because Lance told them to be. She clenched a fist at her side and slid her foot back so it was planted firmly behind her; she wasn’t totally helpless and if she could manage Lance she'd be able to make it out of there. 

     “Oh, I think you’ll change your mind about that.” Lance lunged forward but Kali sidestepped and brought her knee firmly up into his groin causing him to howl in pain. With the potential of three against one there was no way she was going to fight fair. “Argh! Get her!” Lance yelled, clutching his crotch in pain. Kali backed up as the other two approached. 

     Cliff heard shouts from what should be the empty battle courts and frowned. Curfew was getting close and battling outside the regulated matches was prohibited so there shouldn’t be anyone out there. Picking up his pace he followed the sound of what was definitely a fight. He rounded a corner just in time to see Kali dodge a punch from one kid only to have another land a hard blow to her stomach. She fell to one knee and Cliff saw red. 

     “What the hell is going on here!” He shouted, charging forward, and was on them before they had a chance to turn around. He grabbed the closest one by the scruff of his neck and threw him backwards where he landed a few feet away on his ass. 

     “Oh shit, it’s Cliff!” One of the boys shouted as they began scrambling backwards. “Let’s get out of here!” 

     Cliff took a few steps after them but thought better of it and turned back to Kali. She was just catching her breath and getting to her feet when he approached. “Here.” He offered her a hand up which she ignored. Stubborn. 

     “I’m fine.” Kali kept her head down as she brushed off her knee, it was scraped up but not bleeding. The same couldn’t be said about her pride though. 

     “You’re not, here let me see.” He ignored her protesting and placed his large hand under her chin and lifted. She avoided his gaze. “You’re bleeding.” he stated, reaching into one of the pouches on his belt for a cloth. Kali licked at the corner of her mouth to see if she really was. 

     “‘Suppose I am.” She glanced up at him and instantly regretted it as their eyes met. A warm blush began creeping across her cheeks and she was relieved when he looked back down at her mouth and began wiping away the blood. 

     “Why didn’t you take out one of your Eeveelutions to help?” He questioned as she winced. 

     “I don't have any with me, they're all with Nurse Joy for the night.”

     “What!” It wasn’t really a question and she just shrugged in response. 

     “It’s not like I planned on getting jumped in the courts by a sore loser.” 

     Back on the main road Candela and Spark were enjoying an evening stroll, while they were both team leaders their responsibilities often had them off on their own so it was nice to have some time to catch up. They were headed back to the Pokecenter when a trio of boys rushed past them. 

     “...Team Rocket...butting in where they shouldn’t be.” Candela caught a fragment of conversation and paused, glancing at Spark. The worried look on his face told her he had heard that too. 

     “What’s this about Team Rocket?” Candela turned to address the boys. Lance gazed at the two team leaders, a plan quickly forming in his mind. He knew there was bad blood between Team Rocket and well, just about everyone. Maybe he could use this to get a little payback. 

     “Back there! At the courts! One of those Team Rocket leaders is picking on a defenseless trainer! We were coming back here to look for help!” His voice oozed with fake concern as the other two with him chimed in with “yeah, that’s right!”. Candela bought it. 

     “Let’s go.” Candela didn’t wait for Spark and began hurrying towards the courts. It didn’t take them long to spot the large Team Rocket leader, Cliff, cornering a poor girl by one of the battle courts. 

     “Hey! Get your hands off her!” She hurried over, Spark trailing closely behind her. Cliff backed away in surprise, both him and Kali looking at the pair in confusion. Candela didn't give him a chance to explain and immediately laid in on him as she approached. 

     “What do you think you're doing!” Candela shouted at him and Cliff's face darkened in anger. Within seconds they were both yelling at each other, neither listening to what the other had to say. 

     “Kalysta, right?” Spark recognized her from earlier. “Are you okay? Did he do that to you?” He pointed at the cut on her lip. 

     “What? No!” Kali was barely listening to the yellow team leader, instead focusing on Candela as a well of anger rose in her chest. 

     “You can tell us if he did. You’re safe now.” Spark placed a hand on her shoulder, snapping Kali out of it. 

     “Safe, what?” She glanced at Spark in confusion. Between the events of the last few minutes, Cliff and Candela’s yelling, and Spark’s concern; Kali had had enough. “Will everyone just shut up!” That seemed to do the trick as everyone stopped and looked at her in surprise. “I don’t know what you think happened but he didn’t do anything! I don’t need your help, or your pity!” She yanked her shoulder away from Spark. 

     “But we heard-” Spark started but Kali cut him off.

     “Well you heard wrong!” She was trying her best to calm herself and ignore Candela but she could tell the red team leader was scrutinizing her. 

     “Kalysta?” Candela questioned. “I thought I recognized your name on the roster today.” Kali glared at her as Candela’s expression turned to one of pity. “I can see you’re still mad at me, I’m still so sorry-”

     “Don’t.” Kali’s voice was icy as she held the other woman’s gaze for a moment longer. “Screw this.” She muttered to herself, if she stayed here with Candela she was really going to lose it. 

     “Wait!” Cliff called after Kali as she stormed past them but Candela stopped him. 

     “What the hell was going on here! We were told you were picking on a trainer.”

     “And you believe everything you hear? Typical.” he scoffed back.

     “Considering Team Rocket's reputation...” Spark chimed in. 

     “Oh, that’s rich.” 

     “...you can see why we believed those boys."

      “Boys?” Cliff crossed his arms, glaring between the other two. “Three of them maybe?” He didn’t need them to answer, the look Candela and Spark shared told him he was right. “You mean the three boys that had her cornered over a lost match that I chased away?” 

     “And why should we believe that?” Candela matched his glare. 

     “Whatever, believe what you will.” Without waiting for a response Cliff turned his back on them and walked off. As he reached the main road he kept an eye out but as he suspected he didn’t see Kali anywhere.

Part 6 / Part 8

[illneverrecover]

the point of no return | kth (m)

➛pairing: Kim Taehyung / reader  ➛summary: Just when your evening out has gone to complete shit, you stumble - quite literally - into the cutest man walking the cutest dog, who manages to turn it all around. Or, alternatively - how drunkenly losing your debit card on your quest for nachos lands you the best lay of your life. ➛genre: starting out musician!AU. humor, smut, fluff. the trifecta. ➛word count: 10,896 (oof.)  ➛rating: explicit/mature ➛warnings: alcohol use, cursing, oral (male & female receiving), unprotected sex, fingering, spanking, slight over-stimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, creampie, very minor cum play, brief mention of the word ‘sir’, relatively vanilla considering I wrote it. ➛notes: Welp. We all knew this was going to happen, right? I can only scream about the man in the tags for so long before the thirst is going to come out. This whole idea started from watching Tae & Yeontan’s V-Live with @quinnkoo​​ and @jimins-ass-eater​ and saying, “damn, imagine seeing him walking his dog at 1 am.” To which they replied, “Oh god, you'd probably be drunk and without your debit card or something. He'd pity you and help you home.” They aren’t wrong. I also want to give a quick shoutout to those above ladies and the lovely @serensama who encouraged me to write this and post it, hyping me the whole way. Love you, beeches. ➛song: Magnets - Disclosure ft. Lorde

This was the worst date of your life.

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly a date. What had started off as a girls night with your best friends had quickly turned into them pairing off shortly after entering the bar and leaving you all by your lonesome to try and finagle an extra shot in your vodka seltzer for free.

Those bitches.

You couldn’t be mad at them, truly. A quick glance showed that Suzu had managed to have a full cutie wrapped around her finger in a round booth near the bar, her big brown eyes batting at him innocently as he whispered a sweet something in her ear. You snorted when you heard her pull a fake-but-I-want-to-bone-you laugh, leaning forward to place a hand a little high on his thick thighs. Good for her, she deserves to get some.

Next to her, Serena had a sleepy young man practically eating out of the palm of her hand, which was nothing new, truly. She always managed to have some victim within her grasp, and though this one looked shy, he also looked seconds away from dropping to the floor and licking her boot if she asked.

Usually that would leave you with Quinn, the two of you notorious for sipping drinks and judging the patrons of whatever fine establishment you had ended up at, but she was occupied with Mr. Thigh’s friend. Her back turned towards Suzu, she had a playful narrow in her eyes, leaning into a tall brunette who’s baby face hid a wicked smirk at whatever snark she was throwing his way.

That was how you found yourself alone, trying – and failing – to ignore what must’ve been the fourth in the Drunk Man Squad. He had followed when you snuck off to the bar, abandoning the table of love birds, and hadn’t stopped pestering with shitty pick up lines and not so subtle glances at your chest.

He wasn’t bad, you supposed, but he also wasn’t great. The sleeze rolled off of him in waves, and the way he kept smirking like he had the biggest dick in the room had your eyes practically rolling into the back of your skull. You weren’t drunk nor horny enough for his antics, which was truly saying a lot.

“So, what’s a pretty thing like you drink?”

“Vodka. A lot of it.” Sipping the dregs of your glass, you raised and wiggled it to show your interest in another, smiling when the bartender seemed to read your mind. The man next to you chuckled, leaning forward until his sticky breath was ghosting on your ear, making you want to gag.

“What’s your name, sexy?”

“Not Interested.” you give him a tight smile, the faux politeness dripping from your voice. Turning back towards the bar, you hope he’s smarter than he looks and will leave you in your quest to not feel your face, however he proves you wrong moments later.

“I’m Trent.”

“Neat.” Your drink couldn’t get in your hands fast enough, the minute the cool glass slid towards your waiting palm you had already lifted it to your lips, gulping down the burning liquid.

You could feel his eyes on you as you drank, your skin practically crawling in disgust as he looked you up and down. Ugh, what a perv . It was like he had taken a special class in order to be the douche bag of your nightmares, and for a moment, you thought about interrupting your friends’ quest for dick just so you could escape.

“Come on, baby. We could have some fun. I guarantee I’d show you a good time,” he sneered, his hands reaching out to grab your hips. The only thing this loser could guarantee is that you’d be ending the evening with your good friend Mr. Hitachi, and that was something you could do without having to ever see his dick in the flesh. With reflexes faster than should be possible after the amount of liquor you’ve had, you stepped out of his reach, back pressing to the bar.

Sighing, you finished your drink, slamming the glass onto the bar top without bothering to turn away from Trevor or whatever his name was in front of you. He wasn’t going to take the hint, was he? Eyeing your friends, you weighed your options. You could stay, entertain this creep who clearly wouldn’t be leaving you alone as long as his friends were trying to get with yours. Maybe get a few free drinks, do a little grinding before slipping away, feigning a need to puke to ensure he wouldn’t follow you. But that seemed like too much effort, and truly, nothing sounded better than some nachos and a drunk Netflix binge in the comfort of your own bed.

Friendship Code had established that no one was allowed to leave without notifying the others, but seeing as Suzu had her tongue halfway down Mr. Thigh’s throat, Serena was draped across his friend like a lounge singer, and Quinn looked like she was either going to straddle or arm wrestle the remaining man into submission - you had a feeling they wouldn’t miss you. You could just send them a text once you were free of Douche Bag’s glare, and let them know where you were.

Now, just to get rid of the perv in front of you.

Pulling the best smile you were able to fake after 4 vodka seltzers, you batted your eyes at the man, letting your voice dip low.

“Tront, was it?”

“No, it’s Trent, actu-“

“Listen, I bet you could definitely show me a good time,” you purred, using your best Jessica Rabbit voice. “But I need more to drink first, for sure, and I left my purse at the table with your friends. Be a dear and grab it for me? Then we can figure out a plan..” you let your words trail off, hoping he had enough brain cells to at least pick up on what you were alluding to.

His eyes widened, pupils darkening with lust as he gave you a sneer. “Sure thing, baby. I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You waited til his back was turned, his form maneuvering through the swarms of bodies before you swiveled and high tailed it towards the door, not sparing a look back. Luckily it wasn’t too far from the bar, and it was easy to ignore the shouts of what could’ve been Trout shouting ‘baby’ the minute the cool night air hit your skin.

You kept your pace up as you rounded the block, wanting to make sure there was enough distance between you and the club in case he decided to chase you, only allowing yourself to slow when you were sure he wouldn’t be able to find you.

Sighing in relief, you reach for your clutch, pulling out your cell phone to send a quick message to the group text with your friends. You let them know you were safe and headed home, and then sent enough eggplant emojis that you were sure their dates for the evening wouldn’t be able to miss them.

Chuckling at your obvious wit, you kept walking towards the nearest 7/11, nachos the only thing on your vodka soaked brain. Drunk you always needed a snack before bed, and she had the most excellent of palettes that demanded faux neon cheese more often than not. It wasn’t until you had your sights set on cheese dispenser that you realized one fatal mistake in your escape plan.

Your debit card.

“Fuck!” reaching in your clutch, you fumble to feel the piece of plastic that even drunk you was aware wouldn’t be found, seeing as how you had decided to leave an open tab at the bar the minute your friends had saddled up to the men at that booth.

This is exactly why you couldn’t have nice things.

Eyeing the nachos one last time, you turned to leave the store, dejected, soul leaving your body. Not only could you not go back to get your card, lest you run into Traz again, but now you couldn’t even lick fake cheese off your fingers in bed. All in all, this was still probably the worst date of your life.

Barely looking as you leave the store, you pull your phone from your bag once more, scanning through the apps for Uber to take your sad ass home. Tapping on the icon, you had a moment of realization yet again when you tapped the car sharing app and were prompted with a log in request – reminding you that you had never actually set up an account. Between Serena, Quinn and Suzu, there had never really been a need, considering they were usually more responsible and therefore the ones always calling rides for you during your nights out.

“Fuck!” stomping your foot, you look around, glazed eyes looking for any signs that would indicate where exactly you had wandered in your dumb bitch quest for nachos. You’re pretty sure your apartment is only several blocks away from here to the left, but you aren’t positive - everything is dark and nothing looks the same and god damnit, if that fucking dick weasel hadn’t ruined your evening-

It was while you were turning and looking around frantically like a lunatic in the middle of the sidewalk that you walked into something hard, your balance easily thrown off thanks to the alcohol in your system, causing you to fall. You braced for a hard impact with cement, a soft squeal leaving your lips as you landed on something decidedly more human than sidewalk.

Laying for a moment, you try to regain your senses when you hear a small bark, a fluffy tan and brown ball coming into your vision.

“A puppy! Oh my god! Hi handsome!” cooing, you reach out to encourage the dog, giggling when it was close enough for you to touch. “Aren’t you the cutest thing ever, huh! Who’s a good boy?”

 A deep rumble vibrated under your chest. “I would say since I caught your fall, that I’d be the good boy, but I guess it’s debatable.”

 Squinting, you look down at the source of the low drawl, eyes widening when you realized you weren’t on the ground, but in fact laying on top of a very attractive, very annoyed man.

 “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize- I just-“ shuffling, you roll onto your side before jumping to stand up, swaying slightly as the equilibrium readjusted.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He stood, brushing some errant dirt off his hands.  It wasn’t until he was standing before you that you truly could admire his beauty – and fuck, was he beautiful. The stranger was tall, towering over you with broad shoulders and a lean musculature that made your mouth water. His hair was colored a bright red, obviously unnatural but flattering all the same, tucked underneath a backwards black cap. He was dressed rather simply, in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, and yet somehow he looked like he belonged on a runway despite it. He was so fucking good looking it made you a bit mad, your eyes narrowing.

A small yip pulled your attention back to the black and tan fluff ball at your feet, and  your anger at the demigod before you was temporarily forgotten. Leaning down, you cooed at the pup, a hand out to accept any affection coming your way.

 “Hi! What’s your name cutie, huh?”

“It’s Taehyung.”

 Eyes widening, you gasped playfully before running your fingers through the dogs fur, scratching behind his ears. “Hi, Taehyung! You are such a good boy, aren’t you? The best pup, the strongest-“

A low laugh stole your concentration, and your eyes flicked to the golden man before you once more. “No, my name is Taehyung. His name is Yeontan. I call him Tannie.”

At his name, the pup jumped up on his hind legs, his upper body leaning on your shins in a polite request to be scooped up – which you promptly conceded to. “Tannie! I knew that. I could tell because I’m your mother.” Nuzzling into his fur, you sighed, feeling bliss holding the tiny Pomeranian.

 “Uh, excuse me…. Mother?”

 “Well, yes, obviously. See how much he loves me? A son always recognizes his mother.” Yeontan yipped in response, moving to lick your face. Hazy eyes moved to glare at Taehyung, an eyebrow raising. Infuriatingly, he just grinned, hands slipping into the pockets of his hoodie. “Am I allowed to get the name of the mother of my dog?”

You pout at him for a moment longer, stroking the dog in what you hoped looked like a sophisticated way. “I’m offended you don’t already know it, but yes, you can.” Giving him your name, you reach out a hand, startling at the size of the palm that wraps around yours. His hand was warm, and so soft, and you found yourself holding on for a moment too long before realizing how awkward you were being.

Shuffling, he dropped your hand. “Well, ah, if you’re okay, we really ought to be going,” he pulled a phone out, glancing at the time before groaning. “We don’t have much time left before we have to head back.”

Groaning, you looked into the small dogs eyes, placing a gentle kiss on his nose. “I’m sorry we have to separate so soon, Tannie. One day, your father and I will work out a better custody arrangement, but until then…” placing the dog back on the ground, you gave him one last pat before standing up straight. “Remember that your mother loves you.”

You could feel the heat of Taehyung’s gaze on your form, the way he took in your tight black dress and ankle boots and dark, smudged mascara. His expression was unreadable, but when he finally met your eyes, the heat couldn’t be missed – even in your inebriated state.

“Are you… drunk?” he murmured, the bass of his voice lilting slightly in concern. You scoffed in a poor attempt to ignore his questioning, but a quick glance at his face told you that he was genuine in his concern.

 “No.”

 He raised a brow, glare unwavering.

 “Okay, maybe a little bit. But that’s not the problem! The real problem is that I left my debit card at the bar in an attempt to escape a total asshat who couldn’t take no for an answer, and now I don’t have any  money to get my garbage nachos, and I never bothered to sign up for Uber so I can’t get a ride, and now I have to somehow walk back to my apartment, which I think is this way, but-“

“Whoa, slow down. You don’t have your debit card?” You nodded, bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “I forgot it at the bar when I made my great escape. Sad, right? I could be eating nachos right now .”

His dark brown eyes danced with amusement, a grin pulling at his plump lips. Fuck, his smile was attractive, and you had to fight back the desire to tell him so. What gave him the right to be this good looking? And with a cute dog? It should be illegal.

Nodding, he regarded his phone again, glancing in the direction you had pointed. “I’m sorry for your loss – I can only imagine just how good those nachos would be right about now.”

“Thank you for your condolences.”

“However, I can’t in good conscious let you walk home alone at this time of night. Would you mind if Tannie and I walk you?” he steps closer to you, and when the dog follows suit, he smiles at you once more.

You pretend to weigh your options for a moment, not wanting to seem like a total moron, but ultimately knowing you could trust him. The drunk version of you wasn’t always the best at making choices (as the blackjack dealer at the casino one city over could attest to), but there was something about Taehyung – something beyond the good looks and boxy grins – that told you that he could be trusted, that he was a good person.

“I would love for my son and his father to walk me home.”

It only took about a block for the liquor to start thrumming in your veins, your buzzed state intensifying with the exercise. No words had been exchanged since you started your trek, and the silence was deafening.

 “So, why are you walking your dog at 1 am anyway?”

 Side eyeing the man next to you, you don’t miss the nervous chuckle he gives. “Uh, well, I’m pretty busy during the days, with work and stuff, so it’s hard to get out. I have to kind of keep a low profile anyway, so… we came up with a compromise. Midnight walks are when we get our bonding time.” He looked down at the small dog fondly, eyes bright.

 “Ah, yes. I see. So you’re a vampire.”

 “What? No, I’m not a vampire. It’s just easier to be out at night-“

 “That sounds like something a vampire would say.”

Taehyung groaned then, his eyes rolling back in his head which made you giggle, your body hunching forward. Laughing, you stumbled slightly at a divot in the concrete, anticipating biting the dust yet again until you felt him grab your left arm, looping it through his own to steady you.

 “So, my turn to ask a question,” his deep baritone startled you, the proximity of his skin on yours suddenly very apparent. “Why are you escaping bar creeps by yourself? Were you alone?”

Shaking your head, you sighed. “No, I was out with my friends, but they ended up meeting a group of guys, and one of them wasn’t paired off, so he thought that something between us was a given.” Groaning at the memory, you lean your head on his broad shoulder for a moment, before straightening. You don’t know him like this, why are you acting like this?

“Anyway, I didn’t want to interrupt their quest for some good dick, however girl code only allows for so many shitty pick up lines and glances at my tits before its within my legal right to tell him to fuck off.” You could feel him looking at you, but kept your eyes trained on your feet, ensuring they were still moving properly. “Except he didn’t listen, so I had to go full ninja mode.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” the sternness in his voice surprises you, and you glance up at him. “Some guys are assholes. They need to learn to take a hint.”

“Amen, sister.” You nodded, raising your free fist into the air in salute.

He tugged your arm, effectively pulling you closer to his body as he laughed full heartedly, eyes crinkling into half moons. The sound was infectious; the authenticity in his actions making you beam with pride that you had pleased him, and soon you were giggling along, leaning into him as well.

There was something to say about how easy it was to talk to Taehyung, how safe and relaxed you felt in his presence. While this may have been a shittiest date you’ve ever been on, it was turning into a solid way to end the evening.

“My turn again!” smirking, you nudge into his hip. “So besides being an immortal vampire on the search for the finest blood, which you’re totally not going to kill me for later-“

“I told you, I’m not a vampire-“

“Just admit you want my blood and go.”

“I don’t even know your blood type!”

“It’s B positive,” you said seductively, arching a brow.

Taehyung scoffed, eyes rolling. “Ask your question already, woman.”

 “What kind of work do you do?”

 It was then he told you about his band; him and the six other men that he considered brothers who were in an up and coming group. He avoided all your taunts of him being a Rockstar, stating that they hadn’t quite ‘made it’ yet, but were gaining a following – hence why he needed to avoid prying eyes.

“It’s not just for me – it’s for them too. I love making music, but I mostly love doing it with my best friends. I don’t want to risk a scandal or accidentally giving a spoiler or something just because I’m caught off guard.”

Nodding, you fell silent, admiring the passion that leaked into his voice when he spoke of his craft and his friends. “That’s really great, Taehyung. I know you guys will do well.”

You continued prodding, asking a million questions about his bandmates and what he would name the song he wrote for you (and scoffing at his suggestion of ‘Garbage Nachos’), when you realized you had been walking for quite some time, your building coming into view a block away.

Taehyung had noticed your silence and peered down, head tilting in a silent question. “Are we close?”

 “Yup, my building’s just right over there.”

 You started to walk forward, arm still linked with his, when his sudden stillness had you stuttering to a stop, yanked back by his arm.

“Uh, why are we stopped?”

“Don’t ask me, ask him,”

Looking down, you see that Yeontan had stopped walking; instead he was plopped happily in the middle of the sidewalk, pink tongue flopped out of his mouth as he panted heavily. He stared at you both for a moment longer before laying down, laying his head on his front paws.

“Is he… why is he laying down?”

A deep groan left the man beside you. “Ugh – little shit – he does this when he gets too tired. He just refuses to walk.” He stomped his foot, looking both ways before releasing your arm to pull his phone out of his pocket once more, sighing. “We walked longer than we normally do and must’ve hit his limit already. He’ll never walk back at this point.”

Glancing at Taehyung, you noticed the irritation crinkling his brow, the nervous way he chewed his plump lip. “I’m sorry, that was totally my fault. You didn’t have to walk me home-“

“Yes, I did. Don’t worry about it, it’s not your fault that my dog is a spoiled brat.” Tugging at the leash, he tried to see if he could get the dog to move, but was promptly ignored. “I could carry him, but that’s a long walk and he’s heavier than he looks. I could call one of the guys, but it’s late and we have early practice tomorrow – they would kill me.” At that, Taehyung looked over at your building, before meeting your eyes, a question lingering in his chocolate gaze.

You felt that this was a moment – the precipice of a moment – one that depending on how you answered, was going to change the outcome of your evening greatly. The point of no return. The tension was a bubble surrounding you both, and it took you several seconds of observation before you recognized what it was.

The buzz of liquor was wearing off, and realized you were left with two choices. 1. You could invite Taehyung up. Offer to let them stay with you while Tannie rested and regained energy for the trek home. Eat something or watch Netflix or whatever . There was an obvious chemistry between you two, and this would give you the option to figure out what the hell it meant. Or, 2. You could act like you didn’t notice the way he was looking at you, play stupid, and watch him leave. While not knowing him for long, you knew he wasn’t the type to push any agenda. If you didn’t invite him in, he would figure out a way and go.

Did you really want him to go?

It only took losing yourself into his gaze for a second longer before you knew the answer.

“You could… I mean, do you want to come up? Hang out while Tannie rests? I don’t have any plans tomorrow, I can stay up and hang until you feel like you can walk back or call someone?” chewing your lip, you look down, unable to stand looking into his eyes for a second longer.

Face burning, you shuffled in the silence before peering up at him once more. He looked practically predatory, a feral grin pulling at his lips. The sudden change in expression startled you – and excited you more than you care to admit – before it was slipping away, a friendly boxy smile taking its place. “Really? Yeah, that would be great! We’d really appreciate it.”

The heat of that gaze still lingered, flustering you for a moment before you returned his grin. “That sounds like something a vampire who was just invited in to someone’s home would say.”

 The awkward tension leading him into your apartment disappeared when he saw your massive movie collection, practically dropping Tannie like a sack of potatoes to lean in front of it.

“You have every Studio Ghibli movie? And all these horror movies…” he gasped in awe. “One Piece?! You like anime?” he clutched his chest, eyes shining in admiration. “You’re a girl after my own heart.”

Chuckling, you kicked off your shoes, rubbing your aching feet. “I’m about to be a girl after some nachos. It won’t be the same as the blessed 7/11 version, but a bitch can try.” Moving to the kitchen, you start pulling the ingredients onto the counter, turning on the oven. “What about you, are you hungry? Make yourself at home, by the way.”

He stood, looking at the couch like he was determining just how comfortable it’d be to stretch across it, before he headed towards you, tall frame looming in the entryway. “And you can cook? Stop, it’s too much,” he groaned, a pained expression on his face as his continued to clutch at his heart.

“If you call melting cheese and black beans on top of tortilla chips cooking then yes, yes I cook, I am practically Rachael Ray. Be impressed,” pulling out a baking sheet, you assemble the concoction. “Now, like a true masterpiece, this will take time. Want to watch something on Netflix while we wait?”

It was only after consuming two plates of nachos and one La Croix (you) and one glass of half flat Dr. Pepper from the back of your fridge (Taehyung) that you both sighed, completely satiated, before leaning back onto the couch. You had changed into a cozy pair of sleep shorts and an oversized hoodie, unable to take another second of your strapless bra, and with your belly full and the booze almost completely out of your system, you found your eyes growing heavy in the dim lights of the room.

A sudden shift had a warm arm wrapping around your shoulders, and it was then you remembered your guest; the tall drink of man you were snuggling closer to despite your nacho breath. Sneaking side glances at him, he looked completely at ease – legs manspread wide, body slouched into the back of the couch, neutral interest at whatever baking show was blasting from the television. He had taken off his snapback, allowing the full glory of his bright red hair to shine, sticking up errantly after being compressed all day. His chest was broader than you expected under his hoodie, and his sweatpants seemed to be snug in all the right places. He was effortlessly gorgeous, doing nothing other than breathing, and yet the sight of him had you practically salivating.

 You wanted him.

 Any errant signs of sleepiness disappeared as white hot electricity took its place, your veins singing with desire that was pooling at your core. Shifting your legs, you subtly rubbed your thighs together, hoping he wouldn’t notice how desperate you became from a hand on your shoulder. God, it was pathetic how needy you were.

Scanning the room, you eyed Yeontan still curled up and sleeping soundly on your recliner, showing no inclination he’d want to move any time soon. Groaning internally, you attempted to calm your raging hormones, poorly focusing on the screen in front of you.

 Calm down, hot rod. You’re such a horny bastard. He hasn’t even done anything, shown any sign he’s into you-

 Sometime during your mental berating, Taehyung had turned to face you, peering down with a knowing smirk on his face. You must’ve been staring, the realization causing blood to rise in your cheeks as he gave you a smug look. “See something you like?” he murmured, raising an eyebrow. When you didn’t answer, he leaned closer, his warm breath now ghosting your face. “I’d love to know what you’re thinking about right now.”

God, he didn’t really want to know your thoughts. Because then he’d have to hear how you were thinking about how unfairly attractive he is, and how you want to bite his neck until it was littered with bruises, and how you’re pretty sure he’s packing the biggest dick you’ve ever laid eyes on, if his sweatpants bulge was anything to go by.

Swallowing thickly, you closed your eyes for a moment, summoning the remaining liquid courage that was left. “I was thinking that everyone on this baking show is fucking awful. I mean, I get that’s the premise, but holy shit.” Licking your lips, you met his deep gaze, inhaling a breath, willing your voice to be steady. Time to embrace the point of no return. “And.. I was thinking I’d much rather be kissing you.”

It was like saying the words aloud had summoned the action out of thin air, his lips suddenly on yours and pressing fervently into your mouth. He was soft, impossibly soft, and yet the movement against your pout had you aching, needing more. Your hands moved on their own accord, sliding up his arms until they were wrapped around his neck, fingers tugging at the errant cherry locks at the nape. He moaned at the sensation, and the deep vibration of his voice causing a flood of arousal to pool low in your belly, fueling an already raging inferno.

It was you who traced the seam of his lips with your tongue pressing into his mouth when he groaned in pleasure, seeking to taste every last drop of him. It was like the more he gave you, the more it suddenly became not enough – the desire for him burning too hot for you to take. You needed him, needed him closer, needed him inside-

A small yip from the corner of the room is what brought you back to yourself, a subtle reminder of exactly why Taehyung had agreed to follow you up to your apartment in the first place.

Reluctantly, you release his lips, a whine leaving you at the unwanted – but necessary action. “Taehyung, I… I shouldn’t have done that, I’m so sorry-“

“Do you want to stop?”

Your eyes lethargically open to meet his gaze, to study his expression. His pupils were blown wide with hunger, his lips reddened and wet; chest heaving as he filled his lungs with the air they had been lacking during the course of your make out. He didn’t look like someone who wasn’t enjoying himself, and yet-

“Fuck no, I don’t want to stop. But I don’t want you to do something you don’t want.”

“Look at me. Do I look like the kind of guy who doesn’t want you?”

His hands rise to rest on your jaw, tracing the line delicately before smoothing down the expanse of your throat. Skin tingling in his wake, you forced yourself to breathe. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Look at me.” He repeated, this time the words were more of a demand and less of a request, the timber of his voice dropping impossibly low. “I want you. And I think you’ve made it clear you want me, too.” He quirked a brow, the question implied. “So say the words, and I’m yours.”

“Taehyung, I want you, please.”

You’d be an idiot to say anything else.

 His mouth was back on yours before the words were completely passed your lips, his arms reaching to pull you into his lap prior to returning to their place on your cheeks, pressing you closer. He led the kiss this time, his tongue hungrily searching your own, a groan rumbling low in satisfaction when it met its mark.

A squeeze around your waist was the only warning he gave before he was rising from the couch, his lips continuing to claim your own as he fumbled about the room. “Bedroom?” he whispered, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Last door on the right,”

The sounds of things falling as your bodies bumped into them registered in your mind, but were forgotten just as quickly. All you could think about was Taehyung, and the way he felt on your skin, the way he tasted, the way his muscles rippled as your legs pressed around his trim waist.

Kicking open the door, he placed you back on solid ground, his mischievous mouth leaving yours to press kisses to your jawline, your pulse point, your neck. A involuntary whine left your throat when he found the sensitive spot nestled at the bottom slope into your shoulder, his teeth marking it as his own. “You taste so good, baby,” he murmured, his assault on the thin skin continuing until you were sure it’d bruise. Despite his task, he didn’t miss the way you shivered at the affectionate moniker.

He moved forward, lips never straying from your skin until the back of your knees met the bed. Laying you down onto the mattress, he slowly climbed his way on top of you, arms coming to cage you against him. Grabbing his neck, you force his kisses back against your mouth, sucking and biting his pout softly. He chuckled, leaning just out of your reach. “You like to be in charge, don’t you? I could tell the minute you opened that smart mouth.”

 A thumb pulled at your lip, your body arching up into him to get some sort of relief from the pulsating arousal dripping from your core. “Well I hate to break it to you, but now – you listen to me.” He growled, staring down at you like he was going to eat you whole. The intensity of his gaze made you squirm, but he was relentless, seemingly needing you to respond.

A nod didn’t see to appease him, his fingers continuing to ghost over your lips, chocolate eyes not leaving your own. You knew he wanted you to say it, and fuck – you were just desperate enough for him to do it.

Choking back the sarcasm you wanted to use, you groan. “Yes, sir.”

He grinned, leaning forward to join your mouths, murmuring against your plush pout. “Good girl.”

His tongue was back in your mouth, hands traveling from your throat to your collar bones, shifting around your heaving breasts to toy with the hem of your sweatshirt. His kisses only paused long enough to rid you of the garment before joining your skin again, traveling down to the hollow of your throat, the swelling skin of your breast, leaving violet blooms in his wake. You were writhing, full of need, your hands grasping desperately at his shirt until he took the hint and shifted it over his head.

Leaning back, he traced the outline of each nipple, moving slow until he could palm each breast, squeezing slightly. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” He sighed, molten gaze focused on the sight of his hands full of you. “I’ve been thinking about how these would feel since I felt them against my chest earlier.”  Thumbs pinched and rolled the tender buds, causing you to keen loudly before he smoothed the hurt, lips coming to pull one peak into his mouth.

His tongue swirled against you, fingers alternating their pinching and pulling until you were whimpering. “Tae, please,” you cried, a hand coming to tangle in his cherry locks, tugging at the roots. He chuckled low against your skin, a devils glare given as he looked up at you. “Shhh, I’ll give you what you want. Let me enjoy this,”

It took all your will power to bite back the smart remark threatening to spill over, instead pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. He was making you crazy with need, taking his sweet time in his torture of your body, and you weren’t sure you’d survive his exploration of you.

A lick down your abdomen signaled his ascent, hands trailing behind to yank at your shorts and panties, pulling them down your legs in one quick movement. Bare before him, he admired your form, hands smoothing up and down your thighs, pulling and grasping at the flesh of your hips. “God damn, you’re fucking sexy. I bet you taste as good as you look.”

Putting a finger in his mouth, you watched helplessly as he suckled the digit, pulling away once It was drenched in his salvia. Electricity raced through your veins when he made sudden contact with your throbbing center, dragging up your slit and pressing against your clit. A loud moan of his name had him grinning, leaning back down until you could feel his warm breath against your cunt. “Is this where you want me?” at your affirmative hum, he nuzzled closer, his tongue darting out to lick a stripe up your sopping core. His movements were slow, skilled, tracing a delicate pattern into your folds until he found the bundle of nerves at the apex. Wrapping his lips around it, he suckled gently, applying pressure until you were crying out for him.

He had you so worked up at this point that it wouldn’t have taken much longer to set you over the edge, his palms keeping you spread as his wicked tongue lashed against your heat. Your hips were undulating against him, hands pulling and tugging his hair as you held him closer. “Fuck, I’m so close, Tae,” your eyes rolled back, another moan leaving you. He grunted against you, the vibrations making you shiver. Letting go of your clit with a lewd pop, his fingers trailed up and down your slit, his eyes boring into your own.

 “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to cum, please-”

“No. Tell me what you want to do to me. Tell me all the ways you want me to wreck you. And if I like what I hear, you get to cum.”

A frustrated groan leaves you as your feel your orgasm ebb away, his answering chuckle making you want to scream. His mouth reattaches to your needy bud, a single long digit sliding home inside your welcoming walls. Breath hitching as he slowly began to pump in and out, he looks up at your expectantly.

“Come on, baby. I want to hear you. What do you want?” His voice was honeyed; the sweetest poison.

Sensing another losing battle, you screw your eyes shut, licking your lips. “I want you to use that insanely dangerous and talented tongue to make me cum,” you shudder, moaning lowly as he continued his ministrations. Sucking in more air, you continue. “And then I want to taste you on my tongue, have your cock in my mouth so I can show you how good I can take it.” Taehyung moaned against your center as you spoke, his hips pressing into the mattress. His reaction fueled your desire, and you wanted more. “I can take you deep, want to feel you in my t-throat,” a particularly harsh swipe at your clit had you stuttering, a second finger joining the first,  focus waning on your task. “And then I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name. I want you to ruin me.”

A shrill cry left your lips as his efforts doubled, vision blurring with tears as you felt the band in your belly tighten. He had you right on the brink, and you wanted to go over the edge so badly. His fingers were pumping into you wildly, curling to hit that spot that made you see stars, unable to continue forming coherent sentences at his assault. Pulling his mouth away, he growled against you. “Well when you say it like that…” you could feel him smirking against your overheated sex. “Fuck yes, baby. I’ll give it to you. Now cum for me.”

The second his lips suctioned back to your throbbing clit you slipped over the edge into orgasm, the white hot band snapping and blooming from your nerves. Moans tore from your throat, a cacophony of his name and the wet sounds of his fingers fucking you through your high the only sounds in the room. He murmured praises against you, his free hand smoothing circles into your flesh until you came back down, chest heaving. When he was sure it had ended he pulled his fingers out, licking them clean before crawling back over your body. “So fucking good. You are amazing.”

Mouths joining again, he grasped you tight to roll over, switching your positions until you were now straddled on top of his golden torso. Your hands explored the expanse of him; lean muscles beneath flawless skin, smooth under your fingertips. Shifting your hips, you pressed your dripping heat against his strained erection still painfully hidden in his sweats, lapping up his deliciously low moans he pressed into your mouth. The friction of his pants against your sensitive flesh had you whining, your lips finally leaving his own to trail messily down his jaw, his neck. “Taehyung,” you rasp, hands fumbling with the elastic at his waist. “Please, I wanna feel you, wanna taste you.”

“Shit. Yes, baby.” Large hands join your own in pulling off the remaining offensive clothing between you, leaving him bare to your greedy eyes. He immediately grabbed for your hips once more, pressing harshly into the skin to grind against you. “You going to show me what you can do with that wicked mouth?”

You could feel the grin in his voice, and you looked up at him from your descent down his chest, smirking at the saliva and reddened marks - twin pairs to the ones he placed on you - that were left in your wake. Moaning an affirmative, you continued on your task, tasting every inch of skin you could manage. It was the tender the way he looked at you, the feel of his hands smoothing the hair back from your face, the small whines that left the base of his throat that affected you; the desire to impress him fueling you to carry on.

His cock was now within your grasp, the impressive length flat against his belly. The tip was reddened, precum dripping and calling you to it - a call you answered willingly. Without using your hands, you traced the slit with the end of your tongue, swirling the tip to gather the arousal there and drink it in. A deep moan and harsh tug of your hair was your reward, and you continued a track towards his base before going back to the head, repeating your course several times slowly. A yank of your head had you yelping as he raised you away from him until his darkened gaze met your own. “No teasing. Or do I need to remind you who is in charge here?”

Before you could answer he released his harsh hold, your head dropping back to his engorged length. Grabbing him at the base, you poised your mouth above him, eyes meeting his before you made your decline. Unwavering from the eye contact, you lowered until his cock rested on the bed of your tongue, engulfing his length until he was seated deep, tears stinging at your eyes. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hands finding purchase in your hair once more. Taehyung started pulling gently, guiding you up and down his cock at his own pace, moans spilling from his mouth as you took him deeper into your throat with each pass.

His thickness had your jaw aching immediately, but lust was a powerful motivator, and you wanted him to remember this feeling long after you had finished. Mentally prepping yourself, you allowed him to inch further with your next slide down his shaft, pausing once your nose was tickling at the skin of his taut abdomen. Looking up to make sure his eyes were on you, you merely blinked before swallowing around him, a cry tearing from his chest.

“Fuck, baby. Feels so good. Taking me so well, so perfect,” he cooed, his eyes falling from your own to roll back into his head. Stifling your grin, you increased your pace, tongue swirling to savor every drop from his tip before dipping back down again, repeating the action again and again until tears pooled at the corner of your eyes. He was practically panting and writhing beneath you, and nothing gave you more satisfaction than seeing this beautiful man coming undone thanks to your meticulous ministrations.

Suckling at his head, you pulled off with a lewd pop, replacing your mouth with your hand easily due to the saliva coating his length. Your free hand moved to his balls, tugging them gently until he grunted his pleasure, chest heaving. “You look so good all fucked out like this, Taehyung.” you hummed, hazy eyes peering up at him.

“You’re dangerous, too dangerous for your own good,” he chuckled, the sound quickly turning into a choked groan after a particularly pressured squeeze around his length. Your lips had just returned to his fevered skin, open mouth kisses trailing up his length before he was using his grasp on your hair to pull you away, confusion etching your brows. “But the only one who’s supposed to be all fucked out here is you.”

Sitting up, he pulled until you were on your knees face to face with him, giving you an opportunity to truly appreciate his current state. A light sheen of sweat was glistening on his chest and forehead, his plump lips kiss-swollen and cherry red, matching his mussed locks. Even now, his beauty had your breath seizing in your lungs.

His large palms came to rest on your jaw, thumb stroking your cheeks reverently before he kissed you again, tongue seeking yours immediately. Your growing need turned you desperate, lips entangling sloppily, the taste of your release still lingering as you licked into his mouth. He pulled away with a grunt, forehead leaning against yours as he gazed at you tenderly. “Hands and knees, baby. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Shifting below him, you leaned on your forearms until your ass was perched in the air, wet cunt fully on display.  A deep growl left his chest at the sight, a hand coming down to slap the flesh presented to him, causing you to yelp. “You’re such a fucking tease, aren’t you?” Another slap resounded in the room, leaving a reddened mark in its wake. “So sexy, and all for me.”

Hips swaying, you taunted him further, the feel of his blunt head toying at your entrance making you whine out. “Taehyung, please, I need to feel you.” He hummed thoughtfully, continuing the slow drag of his cock against your dripping core. He seemed content in teasing you, enjoying the way you jumped when he brushed your sensitive clit before diving down to catch at your ready hole.

“You still want me to ruin you, baby?” he murmured, his free palm kneading your cheek while he continued his torture. You were practically mewling, nothing but a needy mess, blind to anything but the intense desire to be filled. “Yes, yes. I want it, please.”

He cursed under his breath, muttering his agreeance with a sweet kiss on the dip of your spine before you felt the bed shift, his hand leaving your skin momentarily. At your questioning whine, he quickly reassured you. “Don’t worry, I’m just looking for a condom, do you happen to-?”

Turning your head, your arm reached to pull him back, waiting until he focused back on you. “I’m on the pill, and I’m clean. J-Just need you inside me, please?” Licking your lips, you rested back down against your arms, wide eyes still boring into his own.

He seemed frozen for a moment before he positioned himself against your sopping cunt once more, sliding his cock to saturate in your arousal. He stuttered, a low moan leaving his lips and sending a shiver down your spine as his palms returned to the flesh of your ass. “God, I think I’m in love with you.” He chuckled, groaning as he started to slide inside of you. “Such a dirty, dangerous girl.”

His descent into you was slow, your walls slowly adjusting to his girth to welcome him deeper. He hummed when his hips were pressed flush against your own, hands moving to slide up to your hips, your back, your neck. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

 “Move, Tae. I need you to mov-”

An urgent thrust cut off your words, a gasp tearing from your throat instead. You felt unbelievably full, the slight sting from the stretch quickly ebbing into a low hum of pleasure, one that radiated down to your toes. Eye closing on instinct, you could feel every inch pulse against your sensitive walls, each of his glides torturously slow. You needed him harder, faster - you needed to fall apart against him.

Opening your mouth to demand just that, his hips finally start to pick up the pace, lips moving to press sloppy wet kisses on your spine. “Baby, you feel so good. I don’t think I’m gonna - fuck - last very long.” he groaned, a free hand coming down to slap a cheek of your as before grasping it tightly.

“Me either, Tae. F-Faster, please.”

Taehyung moaned loudly at how needy your request was, how sweet you sounded when you were crying out just for him. His thrusts started coming at a rapid speed, his cock slamming home harder each time until the slapping sound of skin was echoing throughout the room. You felt the white hot band of your impending orgasm pull tighter, hands furling into the sheets. You wanted to drag your nails down his skin, to destroy him the way he was destroying you, but his current hold on your body prevented any  movement.

As if reading your mind, Taehyung slowed, hissing as he pulled himself out of your welcoming heat. Keening at the loss, you turn to look a him, his answering grin meeting you with another errant slap to your ass.

“Turn around, baby. I want to see your face as you cum. I want to see you all fucked out and ruined for me.”

You shuddered. “Fuck, Tae. And you think I’m dangerous?” you could feel the rush of wetness at his words, body already turning and following his directions without a second thought.

The demon of a man just smirked, licking his lips as he positioned himself against your weeping core. Grabbing your knees, he folded them back into your chest before sliding home, the deep whine leaving his chest the perfect harmony to your own. Arms caging you in, his face was inches from your own as he started pumping into you, dark eyes taking in each expression of pleasure on your face, each whimper and moan from your throat. A particularly angled thrust had you crying out a garbled form of his name, and it was then he knew he found what he had been looking for.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. You look so good underneath me, taking my cock so well. You going to cum again for me?” he murmured against your neck, his thumb coming down to swipe an assault against your throbbing clit.

Nodding, your eyes screw shut, hands wrapping around his back to pull him closer, half moon imprints digging into the golden flesh. Hips never faltering, his fingers increased pressure, your pleasure building closer to a precipice. Blubbering loudly, uncontrollably, you knew your edge was near.

“I’m gonna c-cum, Tae-”

Lips crashing against your own, you were silenced by the overtaking of his mouth, his tongue seeking yours and stealing your breath. Your cries increased in pitch, the build in your lower gut ready to spill at any moment, and yet he continued to swallow each moan, to fuck into you until your vision was hazy.

Pulling away, he spoke the next words against your kiss swollen mouth. “Cum, baby. Let me know who’s making you feel this good, like you promised. Be a good girl.” His fingers moved to pinch the bundle of nerves, a low growl vibrating his chest against your own.

It was with his next thrust against the tender spot of your walls that had you shouting out his name, orgasm slamming into you until your eyes rolled back. Taehyung worked you through the high, his hips rolling and grinding into yours until you were messy, nails leaving an angry trail down the skin of his back.

"So good,” your voice was hoarse, shallow. The aftershocks of your climax had you sensitive and raw, walls still fluttering weakly against his length. You could feel his thrusts start to stutter, his moans spilling from him in a continuous stream.  “Cum for me, Tae. Need to feel you fill me up.” you croaked, eyes finally opening to stare into his own.

He cursed, whimpering loudly before kissing you again, teeth biting at your bottom lip. He choked out a warning of his impending end before finally spilling inside of you, murmurs of your name pressed into your throat as he rolled his hips through his release. You revealed in its warmth, and after a few more lazy strokes he was collapsing on top of you, cock snuggly resting inside your core.

Heavy breaths were the only sound for the next few moments, a content hum leaving Taehyung’s  throat as you raised a hand to stroke lazily through his fiery locks. Your body was sated, thrumming with a calming glow that had every muscle relaxing and your eyes drooping shut.

Unsure of how much time had passed, you startled when you felt him pull out slowly, his cum spilling from your core. Whining at the loss, you pout, reaching out for him. “Where are you going? Come back.”

 He chuckled, body leaning over yours once more. “Just going to clean up baby, don’t worry.” You watch as his eyes look down at the mess he made of you, his sleepy grin now turning dark as he eyed his release dripping down your thighs. Long digits swiped through the milky substance, his heavy lidded gaze setting your skin ablaze before he pushed it back inside your abused walls, a small squeak leaving your lips. “Keep that where it belongs.”

Just as quickly as he had entered you he was pulling out, asking for directions to the bathroom like he didn’t just wreck you as you continued to lie boneless on the bed. You must’ve fallen asleep again, because you woke to him wiping your tender sex clean, pulling your body upright to slip a t-shirt over your naked form. Allowing yourself to flop back down on the bed, you peered up at him, tilting your head at the look of contemplation maring his handsome face.

“Are you getting into bed or what?” Sliding over, you pulled the covers back and pat the spot beside you. “I hate to break it to you, but after I’m given mind blowing orgasms, I demand cuddles for at least the next 1-2 hours, but preferably through the night. I’m needy like that.”

A boxy grin had his eyes sparkling, his laugh making your heart squeeze in your chest. “Well, you’re in luck, because it just so happens that giving beautiful women mind blowing orgasms makes me want to cuddle as well.”

Sliding into the bed beside you, he wiggled you into his arms, your head nestling perfectly in the crook of his neck, his hands finding purchase on your waist and nape. He started playing with the hair there idly, causing you to melt against him.

“You just want to get closer to me so you can check out all the marks you left.” sighing, you breathed in his scent, eyes closing once more.

“What can I say? I love how they look on you, seeing you all marked up for me.” Chuckling, he closed his eyes, drinking in the warmth of your small form pressed so tightly against his own, wondering if you could hear just how fast his heart was beating. Silence enveloped you both, the sounds of your breathing and the soft whirring of the fan above lulling you into sleep.

“That sounds like something a vampire would say.”

“Go to sleep, woman.”

 You weren’t sure what woke you first - the sun streaming blindingly through your open curtains, beaming directly into your retinas, or the lack of warmth pressed to your side. Yawning, you stretched, toes cracking as the soreness between your legs let itself be known. Images from last night came pouring back in front of your eyes, cheeks heating with the memories of all the things you had done - and that you had allowed to be done to you. Not that you regretted a single minute; Taehyung’s handsome face and charming laugh making your heart and thighs squeeze simultaneously.

A quick survey of the room proved you were alone, and you felt your stomach sink. Did he… leave? The thought made you sicker than it should’ve, considering the reality of the fact you had only spent a single night - hell, a few hours - together. You couldn’t blame him if he had decided to go, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t hoping for more.

Sitting up, you slide off the mattress to head to the bathroom, your bladder threatening to explode if you didn’t empty it immediately. Damn you, La Croix. Flicking on the light, you see that you’re wearing an oversized white shirt that skimmed the top of your thighs, one that had a hint of Taehyung’s scent lingering on it. Before you could ponder it further, a crash from the kitchen had you jumping, a deep “Fuck!” whispered frantically causing your pulse to race.

Darting into the kitchen, you find a shirtless Taehyung rubbing at his scalp, a scowl knitting his eyebrows together.  Yeontan was panting happily at his feet, seemingly ignorant to his owners pain. “Ugh, did I wake you? Sorry, I hit my head on the cabinet. Good morning, by the way.”

“Jesus, Taehyung. You scared me so bad I almost pissed myself. Actually, I still might.”

“Kinky. I didn’t know you were into that.” Grinning at your rolling eyes, he reached out to smooth circles on your shoulders. “Sorry for scaring you.” His eyes piercing into you knowingly, seeing too much. “Did you think I had left?”

Embarrassment coursed through your veins, your hand fisting into the bottom of your - his - shirt. “I, uh, well - yeah, when I woke up alone, I thought maybe…”

His answering smile was nothing short of dazzling as he lessened the space between you. “I was trying to surprise you. With breakfast. But it turns out all you have in this place is the ingredients for nachos, vodka, approximately two slices of lunch meat, and coffee. I gave Tannie the lunch meat.” At the sound of his name, the pup let out a gleeful bark.

Giggling, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer so you could nuzzle into his chest. “Sounds like a cop out to me. Total lack of imagination. Breakfast vodka is a thing.”

“That sounds made up.” You felt his lips press into your crown, a small gesture that had your heart racing giddily. “You seemed like a coffee person though, so I think I managed to make that.”

Another yip at your feet pulled your attention back to the small dog, sliding out of Taehyung’s embrace to scoop him into your arms. “I am a coffee person, thank you.”

Taehyung’s smile was obnoxiously wide as he took in the sight of you cuddling Yeontan, the soft cooing and kisses making the pup preen in your embrace. He moved away to grab a mug before leaning against the counter, pouring the steaming liquid slowly. “You’re spoiling him, by the way.”

“He is my son and I’m allowed to spoil him, thank you.” Accepting the cup as he handed it to you, you took a long sip, sighing as the heat hit your belly. Looking up to him, you notice he was watching you, eyes lingering on your legs. “You don’t want any?”

“No, I’m not a big coffee drinker-”

A loud shrill echoed in the kitchen, Taehyung’s eyes widening as he began to pat the pockets of his sweatpants in search of the culprit. Pulling the phone out, he tapped a few buttons to silence it, eyes landing on your own sheepishly.

Setting down both your coffee and son, you lean into him once again. He was like a magnet, always pulling you in. “So… is that your ride?” your voice was low, as if you spoke softer you could hide the disappointment at the thought of him leaving so soon.

A hand gently grasped your chin, tilting your face until you had to meet his softened gaze. “It is. My bandmate, Hoseok, texted me earlier to remind me we have a band meeting soon, so he offered to come pick us up.”

Lithe fingers stroked at the bone of your jaw, and you had to fight the instinct to lean into his touch. “Ah, okay. I understand. Important business, and whatnot.” you stammered, giving him a watery smile. “I’ll just go get changed so you can take your shirt back-”

“I don’t want it back.”

Raising a brow, you tilted your head mockingly. “You going to go like that? Kind of unfair to all the mere mortals, but do you.”

His deep laugh echoed in the small room, his other hand cupping your face until his lips were ghosting over your own. “I have a sweatshirt. Plus, I like the idea of you wearing it when we all go to brunch later.”

Breath catching, you snap your eyes to meet his own, playful mischief dancing in the warm chocolate as he leaned in to press a chaste yet lingering kiss to your lips. Forehead resting against yours, his thumbs skimmed along your jaw. “Does that… sound okay?”

For the first time, it was Taehyung who seemed nervous, unsure but anticipating - hoping - that you’d agree to see him again. The idea that he felt the same way had butterflies dancing in your stomach, grin pulling at the corner of your mouth until it was bright enough to match his own. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

He giggled before his mouth was pressing fervent kisses against yours again, reluctantly stopping when his phone chimed again, bringing him back down to earth. “Good. Give me your number, and I’ll text you and let you know when we’re on our way to pick you up. Should be about an hour or so.”

After exchanging the information and confirming a time (and a few more heated kisses, interrupted by Hoseok calling to threaten to chop off Taehyung’s balls if he didn’t get down there right now ), he was dressed and standing in the doorway, Yeontan tucked gently into his arms.  “Thanks again for letting us stay here. I had a great time.” the sly smirk on his face giving away his meaning.

“Of course. My home is always open to my son and his father.” Leaning forward, you gave Tannie’s small nose one last kiss. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yup. Don’t forget to wear my shirt.” His large palm reached out to skim the exposed skin of your upper thigh, causing you to shiver involuntarily. “I wish you could go just like this, but it’s probably wise to wear pants of some sort in public, especially around my friends.”

“Why? What if one of them is rich? I have a lifestyle to maintain, Taehyung.”

A low growl was your only warning before he leaning in, careful not to squish Yeontan between your bodies as he nipped at your bottom lip, your body heating instantly in response. “Firstly, garbage nachos aren’t a lifestyle. Secondly, I don’t care. Sorry baby, you’re mine now.”

As quickly as he had approached, he was now in the hall, devious grin still painted on his face as he slowly backed towards the stairs. “Plus, I still have yet to taste this blood you’ve been bragging about.”

He pulled the door shut then, escaping halfway down the hall before you could shout your reply, though your cry of “I KNEW IT!” was loud enough to be heard through the walls, causing Taehyung to throw his head back as he laughed deeply.

 Flinging yourself against the closed door, you let the embarrassingly wide grin overtake your face. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the worst date of your life.

[threadofdestiny]

The opportunities we may take

(The Picture was a comission I odered from a friend. Check her out -> Fantasiamind_art)

Part 2

Sinbad x OC

Soukmate AU

Reaching out to him

---- Sacred Island of Dalmasca----

Calmly, Salome listened as the waves continued to hit the stony cliffs underneath her. There she sat bathing in the warm sunlight, her legs tucked next to her body. She looked aimlessly across the sea, waiting for a sign that told her what to do next. The Rukh flew in circles around her body, never to drift too far away from her. They were silent at the moment, just like the girl they were constantly following. Her hands rested in her lap as she clutched a small round object. After playing carefully with the small ball for a few moments, she lifted it towards the sun and let the rays break on the smooth, glassy surface. It's turquoise color shone softly in the light, while the breaking rays made rainbow-colored spots dancing on her soft rose colored skin.

"Tell me, Alexander, what should I do?", Salome asked softly, her gaze briefly scurrying to her wrist. The golden bangle shimmered in the midday sun, but there was no reaction from the djinn inside said object. Salome frowned as she turned her gaze back to the small ball in her fingers.

"A few days ago the rukh said, that he had decided against it again, that he is on his way to build a kingdom. I wish I could just take a boat, sail to him and ask him why he is such a coward. Or why he doesn't care as much about this link as I do", she continued, speaking to the bracelet.Slowly she lowered the round shiny object in her hands to her lips, placing them softly on the smooth glass. "I'm sure he feels it too", She murmured, eyes closed, while she let her arms sink into her lap again. Her heart, which was heavy in her chest, pulled painfully together. "I- I know, I know... Maybe I should just accept it. He had the opportunity to come. Maybe it shouldn't have been. But maybe...", she broke off the sentence in order to let her gaze wander over the sea again thoughtfully.

Maybe she could take the chance once to reach out for him.

Absent, Salome raised her free hand and reluctantly stretched it out in front of her, as if she were trying to reach for something invisible that was there on the vastness of the sea. The golden little birds made motivating noises as they danced wildly around her outstretched fingers, making the girl smile.

"I finally came to a decision, Alexander! The waiting has come to an end. I will send it to him. Perhaps this is how I can at least tell him those few sentences, which I would like to give him on  his way", She explained to herself, throwing the little round crystal up in the air and catching it contentedly with both hands. Motivated, Salome got up and turned around herself once. The wide white skirt of her simple dress was playfully fanning out as she moved.

"And then, you and I will try to save as many as we can. I'm counting on you, Alexander, I'll need your help soon", she declared in a determined tone. "You are going to help as well, right?", she asked the rukh, which flew undeterred around her. With a searching view, she turned her back to the sea and sadly looked at the small town that was located down in the valley of the island. "The priests and blessed ones have already begun to evacuate the citizens. But some do not want to leave their country. We need to protect them at all costs, do you here me?", she muttered as her gaze glided over the ships, which were carefully loaded. From her high position, the people looked like little bustling ants as they went about their day's work. To her left, the holy temple of Solomon towered over the small land like a dormant watchman. Its walls integrated into the white stone of the sleeping volcano that makes up the middle of the small island. In the distance, she could see some people moving in her direction leaving the temple, but she did not pay them any further attention because they were still too far away.

Yes, she decided, she will do her best

Determined, she nodded to herself, turned to the cliffs again and approached the edge carefully. Deeply inhaling, she raised her arms to fold her fingers in front of her chest, the small glass ball tightly enclosed within both hands. "Please, make sure that my last words reach him", she whispered quietly while she kept her eyes closed in concentration. As if acting on command, Solomons rukh danced around her in an euphoric rhythm, confirming that they would comply to her wish. Happy with their answer, she stretched her hands over the edge of the cliff and slowly opened her fingers. With shiny turquoise-green eyes, she watched as the round crystal slowly slipped out of her fingers, only to witness how it plummet and then sink into the deep blue sea.

"Fare well!"

A strong gust of wind shot around Salome and tugged at her dress as she stepped back to eventually turn away, when suddenly the sky darkened over her. The rukh now in panic, warning her to get away, she heart screaming from behind her.

"Salome, watch out"

Before she could react, two magical projectiles hit each other. The pressure that came from it caused her to lose her balance and make her fall to the ground. As she raised her gaze, she stared into a cloud of black-colored Rukh, swirling around a person wrapped in equally black fabrics.

They were far too early. How had he been able to overcome the barriers?

Looking to the sky, it confirmed that the protection had not been breached. So how could that be? She struggled to stand up while keeping her eyes firmly on the dark figure. Her thoughts raced for miles per second as she pondered what to do. She had to protect the people in the valley, so much was clear to her, but how? Carefully Salome got up as her friend's steps behind her grew louder and louder, signaling her, that they were getting closer. Determined, she firmed her stand as her trembling fingers snaked around the metal vessel on her wrist.

"You are not welcome here! Go away!"

----Heliohapt----

"You are strong. You have courage, intelligence and power more than anyone else!"

"You can never truly become a king"

"Marry me"

Like a mantra, the rose haired princess's words echoed in his head, tortured him hours later, after the day slowly tilted to its end. For an eternity he had been lying in bed and licking his wounds like an injured animal. Uneasy, Sinbad rolled from one side to the other until he finally lay on his back, an arm placed over his throbbing eyes. The pillow, actually pleasantly soft, felt like a brick against his neck, while the soft hotel bed didn't provide him any rest. Despite the fact that it wasn't very late, the room was already shrouded in complete darkness. He hadn't bothered to turn on a lamp when he entered the room some time ago. Even the tray of food that Ja'far had brought him before, he had left untouched on the table in the corner of the room. Sinbad didn't want to eat anything. He just wanted to sleep, but he seemed to be unable to find some rest.

He had failed. This little pampered princess had twisted his words in his mouth and made him look stupid in the end. She actually snatched the djinn away from him right under his nose.

"Marry me!", she said.

Angry, he snorted as the words reverberated again in his memory. No! Definitely not! Unnerved, Sinbad groaned as he abruptly sat up and let his face sink into his callused hands. Hot, with every passing second he got hotter as the frustration within him rose. As if he were marrying someone just to get his Kingdom. No, he didn't need a princess from any scarred country to achieve his goals. It felt wrong just to think about marrying someone to get power. He was a free man. He wouldn't give it up, not if he could see that he didn't need it.

At that very moment, another person's silhouette appeared before his inner eye. Her brown hair pulled in a long braid resting gently on her back. Her face was hidden by some loose strands that fell into her face, while her folded fingers touched the contouring of her lips. Slowly she shook her head and muttered something he couldn't hear.

The heat formed beads of sweat on his neck, which became so unpleasant that he began to pull at his collar. He opened his eyes and stared uneasily into the empty room as he tried to scare away the images in his head. He needed fresh air, it was far too stuffy in his room. Hastily, he got out of bed while quickly opening the buttons of his tunic to free himself from it. Taking a deep breath, he dropped the garment to the ground when he finally pulled it off his body. With quick steps, he approached the only window in the room and ripped it open. His airways filled with cooled desert air as he rested his hands on the window sill, while he let the pleasant air glide over his sweaty torso.

"Damn it!", he growled, as his fingers cramped over the wood. "I'm not the right man for a romantic relationship. Leave me alone", as if he wanted to convince not only himself, but also the two women who haunted his consciousness. Serendine's voice fell silent and left him at peace, but it was as if the girl unknown to him was shrugging before his inner eye as if he had beaten her. It was as if these words had actually reached her. He directly regretted them, but why? It wasn't real! She wasn't here. Exhausted, he raised his eyes to the dark sky as he wiped his arm over his damp forehead. A bitter taste spread to his taste buds as he pondered why his thoughts kept wandering over to that one particular girl. Was it because it would be an inaccurate variable in his life? Was he intrigued by that fact? Or was it something else? Not wanting to pursue those thoughts, fearing what these feelings might trigger in him, he concentrated, looking out into the night without registering his actual surroundings. No, he had to be sure that he was still on his right track. Serendine was not the way to reach his goals, he could see that. She would accompany him for some time, cross his paths occasionally, but at some point she would no longer play a role in his life. He stared crampedly at the lines that emerged before his eyes. Everything was as it should be. Today was an unpleasant failure, but it did not distract him from his actual path. Everything was in good order.

So why did he catch himself looking for the path that leads him to that brown haired girl, then?

But, wait! Where was she? Sharply, he breathed in the cool night air, his wild gaze drove over the individual lines, while he searched for that specific one. "W-What?", he breathed, panic spreading in his chest. It wasn't there. Where was she? Why could he not discover her path. Breathing heavily, he leaned further out of the window, as if he could catch a closer look at the waves in front of him. Nothing. Gone. Shocked, he felt his heart beating heavily, when he realized what this would have mean. He felt the blood in his veins froze as a suffocated sound escaped his lips. What was that? Why did he feel like he had lost something important? Trembling, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine the girl figuratively. But when he did, he could only observe how she dissolved right in front of him into thousands of small golden birds. "No...don't leave. I come and get you. I swear", he whispered hoarsely, When he realized that he couldn't reach her anymore. His hands shot forward and grabbing into the void, catching nothing but cold air. He had not taken his opportunity and now he is going to pay the price for it.

That was the night he vowed that he would never going to marry someone else

[clansayeed]

Bound by Choice ― I.iii. Divine Intervention

PAIRING: OC x OC x OC (Valdas x Isseya x Cynbel) RATING: Mature (reader discretion advised)

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Choice ⥽

Before there were Clans and Councils, before the fate of the world rested in certain hands, before the rise and fall of a Shadow King ― there was the Trinity. Three souls intertwined in the early hands of the universe who came to define the concept of eternity together. Because that was how they began and how they hoped to end; together. For over 2,000 years Valdas, Cynbel, and Isseya have walked through histories both mortal and supernatural. But in the early years of the 20th century something happened―something terrible. Their story has a beginning, and this is the end.

Bound by Choice and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Choice is the only book in the series not based on an existing Choices story. It is set in the Bloodbound universe and features many canon characters.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Choice/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Cynbel saves a seer.

[READ IT ON AO3]

By the time he arrives back to the estate Cynbel’s anger has given way to fright; one thought consuming him above all others.

They need to leave Rome. They should already be far, far from here. Far from Caesar and his notions of immortality.

“Valdas! Isseya!”

“Cynbel?”

Her voice draws him to her, standing just outside the doors of their shared chambers with the red of a fresh meal still dripping down her chin.

He sweeps Isseya up in his arms and kisses her fiercely. Half to remind himself that she is there, she is safe. Half because what else can he do, he’s powerless, has never been powerless, cannot fathom it without her, without them.

The lust is dashed from her eyes the moment she takes him in fully. “What is it? Cynbel, what has you so?”

“Where is Valdas?”

“I asked you —”

“Where is he?!”

She tears his grasp from her arms and forces him back — enough to return him to sanity if only for a moment. She’s never abided him like this and would not start now. And isn’t he fucking thankful for it.

“Bring yourself back to sense and I may feel inclined to answer,” his darling snaps through vicious teeth. Only when he sags against the now cracked wall with his hands spread out — vulnerable, they are all too vulnerable — does she make good on her words. Holds his upper arms in a deceptively strong grasp and skirts her nose along his jaw to bring a comfort only she can. In a way only she knows.

“You’re frightening me,” she admits, he can hear the waver in her voice even now, “I haven’t seen you like this in so long, so very very long.”

He can’t even remember the last time this mania consumed him. But she’s good at bringing up old wounds, at cutting in the same place time and time again.

“Iss’…” Cynbel loses the last of his fight, his body yields. But it isn’t enough to ease his mind. Nothing but the death of Caesar will do that.

“Was it the Godmaker’s whelp that made you so?”

“No.”

“Swear it. I know you’ve taken to her.”

He knocks their temples together. Bestial headbutting; primal acknowledgment that she’s talking utter fucking nonsense. “Do not insult me so.”

“Not taken her,” though her fondness comes through, “I would make you a eunuch if you even so much as entertained the thought. But she knows something you keep hidden from us. Call me a liar.”

He can’t, so he doesn’t.

Which is all the answer she needs. “I thought as such,” and moves to pull away from him but no, no not now. Now cannot be one of the times for her tantrums because there is so much at risk and they need to find their beloved and leave.

“Believe me now, my love, and I will never give you reason to do otherwise again. For as long as we live. I swear it to you.”

It’s an openness from him that Isseya is unfamiliar with. Enough so that the gravity of his behavior finally seems to come over her. A veil somehow lifted.

“Where. is. Valdas?”

Her eyes flicker towards the depths of the villa yet the relief he hopes for does not yet come. Because his gut knows what else lies within, perhaps.

“Rome is no longer safe for us. We need to leave.”

“What madness is this?

“Our Beloved plans to join the conspirators but they have already failed.”

“What are you rambling about?”

Before he can answer the sounds of the ostium opening catch the lovers’ ears. With them, a wrath he had hoped was lost among the winding pathways of the city.

Instinct has Isseya in his grasp, holding her close as Kamilah darkens the doorway. Eyes glowing red the moment they land upon him and fangs bared.

“I’ll kill you!”

She rushes forward but to them her speed is childish; fumbling. Easily dispatched with a wave of Isseya’s arm as she steps in front of Cynbel with a mirthless laugh.

“The day such is possible, whelp, will never come. Accept that and you may live to see tomorrow at the very least.”

But the defiant Kamilah stands, wipes away the powder of crumbled marble from her cheek and of everything to go afoul this night Cynbel finds this to be the strangest of them.

“I did not force you to leave at my side. Turn your anger inward.”

“You imbecile!”

“I’ll have your fucking tongue!”

“Isseya! Still yourself,” he looks between them and forces himself calm through sheer will; remembers now why they chose to live away from what few others of their kind roamed the hills in the wilderness — passionate creatures were the children of the night.

Kamilah speaks again through ragged breaths; physically healed but in her eyes churned a storm unchained.

“You named me Sayeed, you wretched thing! Did you think I would truly go to the Pharaoh and give her my true name even now when it was the Pharaoh herself who gave my brother word of my demise? That we may be revealed is on your head, brute.”

Beside him, Isseya swears under her breath. “Tell me you didn’t, beloved. Tell me you are not so craven for war so soon.”

“What I am craven for is survival.” He manages through gritted teeth.

“Is that in doubt?”

“It may very well be.”

Even with all of their years now, of all hours, time is not theirs to waste. Clutching for her again, Cynbel presses an open mouth to Isseya’s temple, pulls her with him away before it is too late.

“Cynbel? Isseya? What happened?”

Their god is upon them the moment they enter the exedra with Kamilah unwillingly in tow. From his bench the Godmaker makes no attempt to hide his distaste; curls his lip upwards in a silent snarl.

There is peace in seeing Valdas unharmed — in feeling his face held in the same hands that made him. Even temporary, it is enough. Straw-like strands stick to his brow as his Maker does everything in his silent power to bring about a calm.

But this is no mere fit of madness. It burns Cynbel from the inside out, makes him see the hollow clarity of the Godmaker’s eyes over his lover’s shoulder and want to act as sword and shield.

“Ease yourself, my Golden One,” his grip as rough as needed, words thick with a worry he refuses to let show in his eyes; always the stronger of them, always burdened so they may not be, “surely the theatrics have no place here.”

“Are you safe? Are you unharmed?”

Because he knows better, knows his lovers, Valdas steps back and gestures wide; allows them both to see him in all of his perfection and glory. Untouched, unblemished — for the moment.

“Of course I am.” And because, too, he has seen these fits of mania before, Valdas seeks answer from Isseya foremost. “Why would I be otherwise?”

Her venom spits at the dirt before the Godmaker’s feet.

“Ask him.”

Only the guilty who carry shame play in innocence. Gaius stands and holds out a hand; an offering. But the intended does not take it. Kamilah stands still with furrowed brow. An act minuscule in its defiance; but with purpose served.

“Kamilah, my Queen…”

“They know, Gaius.”

Slowly the hand falls back to his side. His fist clenches briefly, knuckles pop-popping in an echo around the curved room, then gone as if nothing had changed, as if nothing were the matter.

“I see,” with all the temperance of discussing the cloudy night, “and how did this come to light?”

Valdas senses the shift in tension, warily steps between his lovers and his Maker; “Have you care to enlighten those of us blind?”

Apparently he does not. Waits for Kamilah to answer him — she may reject his hand but he is still her King, her Maker, and he will not be denied.

“The victory at hand, it seems, has loosened Caesar’s tongue.”

“Brilliant tactician though he may be, that will need to be trained out of him.” The tsk tsk tsk of the Godmaker’s tongue, such a simple and universal act, sends throughout Cynbel an unease that coats him bodily; makes him feel unclean, despoiled.

“Caesar?” parrots the Made-God in confusion; rising suspicion, “what does Caesar have to do with this?”

Then, because the pieces aren’t fitting together in quite the right way, he rounds on Cynbel. “Why were you taking audience with Caesar?”

“I would quite like to know that myself.”

Even with the full weight of the Godmaker’s stare upon him, Cynbel refuses to give him the satisfaction. A silence not for her sake but that keeps Kamilah’s secret, too.

“Have you gone dumb, boy? Your precious deity has asked you a question!”

The same curl of the tongue as the night before; disgust not quite contained — not deserving of it in his mind. Though to think of what lurks in the Godmaker’s mind is a punishment he would kindly never suffer.

“Caesar knows what creatures wander Rome come nightfall. He knows of us… speaks as if to stand among us, beside us as an equal.”

Brow creased, Valdas shakes his head. “Impossible.”

“Would I lie to my beloved? He gazed upon me a mortal with knowledge beyond his means. Said not in words but intent; to become Dictator Inmortalis with the blood of our kind running the rivers of his veins.”

Would I lie to my beloved? Words overcast that hang in the depths of his lover’s eyes and the pain of them may be too much for Cynbel alone to bear.

And like she shares a home in his mind — and she very well may — Isseya reaffirms her presence beside him. Complete and utter faith; belief in him… in them.

He is never alone.

An understanding comes over Valdas, then. Across his face a hardness; something that does not suffer fools nor being made the fool. That finds him facing his Maker not as the cowed progeny of before but, perhaps, the firstborn who had created the distance between them so many centuries ago.

“Should Caesar find himself among our kind, no blade would fell him. None that mattered; none used by the likes of the conspirators of the Senate.” None used by the likes of me.

The accusation is clear, yet Gaius remains unperturbed.

“Such is the consequence of those who stand in the way of power.”

“What power does he not already covet?”

“How small-minded you’ve become, Valdemaras; fixated on your narrow existence. On these children of yours. Are you truly blinded to the potential laid out before us?”

“Us?”

“Our kind!” cries the Godmaker with a voice that might wake the heavens; “The future I created you for, the one we sought together! The very reason you continue to walk this earth no matter your defiance of me.”

“The world we stand in now is a vastly different one than when I last drew mortal breath, Augustine. The Empire of my birth is no more. Surely Rome, no matter her glory now, will see the same fate.”

“Not as my plans come to fruition.”

“Plans to—to what, to extend the power of Rome through the immortal hand of Julius Caesar?” He scoffs. “We both know him a madman lurking beneath a countryman’s smile. If you still begrudge me my betrayal of you, I would claim that nothing compared to what he might do when you pull on his strings.”

Haughty, defiant; Gaius gestures wide in a grin that bares all of his teeth. “You were the mistake from which I learned the greatest lesson. Caesar will be Turned and brought to heel. And when that is done, the great work of rebuilding the Kingdom She Promised will finally begin.

“You are right, my soldier. Your Empire fell; it began long before I walked your lands and despite my best efforts could not be saved. But with Caesar at my hand, how much of Rome will follow? How much of Egypt once the Pharaoh stands beside us?”

He stands proud, basks in his own glory and might. Looks to find the adoration of his Queen but finds only confusion; a dawning understanding.

“You mean to Turn Cleopatra.”

“I mean to see my promises kept. If that means bringing the rulers of even the smallest kingdoms under my thumb then so be it.” This time Kamilah takes his offered hand. Joins her King as the Queen by his side.

Why should he find himself surprised by it?

“Enough of this.” Gaius continues with a flippant wave of his free hand, “I’ve entertained your pilgrimage for long enough, Valdemaras. Tomorrow will come and your childish plotting will come to a head. When Caesar rises from the bloody hands of his conspirators he will be revered and given absolute power over Rome, the Senate, all of it.

“Where will you stand witness? At my side, or under my rule?”

The answer is an easy one for the likes of Isseya, the likes of Cynbel. Who look at one another with grave unease. All of the events circling around them overhead as vultures do the dying wanderer.

Their love and Light said so himself. To refuse him would be to lose you.

Do not ask it of me. I beg of you.

And what had they answered? Perhaps the only thing they could to ease his aching heart, to bring their god back to his former self because they could not bear the sight of him so broken, wounded… so mortal.

We will not. We will not.

They grasp at one another desperately. For him, too, but not quick enough. Valdas steps out of their reach and they want to scream for him, go back on their shared word. Anything to spare them this. To spare him.

“Valdas, please —”

“Do not do this —”

But words spoken in vain mean little now. Only serve to call them liars, to call them unfaithful in the eyes of their god.

But is it a god who falls on bended knee, takes his Maker’s touch in clasped hands and kisses the ring there? It certainly does not look so. It looks like a man losing his world in one simple act.

Or, perhaps, saving it.

The Godmaker’s pride is as venomous as it is stifling. Brings his chin raised high as he takes in the sight of Valdemaras’ beloveds. The things that he would do anything for — that much has been proven enough.

“And your progeny?” Who are not worth the address.

Who bite their tongues until they bleed, who swallow blood and bile and tears down because he has done the same for them, how could they do anything less than follow him even into this?

Their silence is their submission. Down the line, with an ego fat with supped blood and power taken from all corners of the world, he may demand of them a formal oath. And down the line, starved of one another, they may be too weak to do anything but swear it.

For now he takes his Queen and departs. Leaves Valdas low, sinking lower still.

Of one mind and two bodies, Cynbel and Isseya rush to his side, envelop him in them. Show him proof with trembling touch that his act was not in vain and they live. They live.

Fuck pleasantries. He wrenches the feeble door from its feeble hinges and sends it hurtling across the alley. It smashes against the stone front of the domus across like rotted driftwood.

There’s a hint of his true nature in his darkening of their doorway. Filling the space with broad stature and the hunt in his inhuman eyes. Staring up at eight terrified faces huddled around their meager meal.

Every visit before this he has been almost sickening in his placation of them, the mortal curs. No longer.

“The girl.”

Too weak to take part in the bonds of family. Trembling in her bed not out of fear of him but fear of herself and what she has seen, what she may see still. Cynbel scoops her up in his arms and feels nothing when she seeks a warmth in him that does not exist.

“Domine…” and were he capable of kinder words he may tell her to save her strength, for her sake—for his, but as it is every thought must be held back on the tip of his tongue lest he start screaming and never, never stop.

“This night will not be your last, not while I have use of you yet.” By any means necessary he will keep her alive.

Bringing Nona back to the villa is impossible. Were the Godmaker to come into possession of her, what little hope the lovers had left would be dashed. But to leave her under the same roof visited by his Queen was to leave her equally vulnerable.

Surrounded on all sides, there was only one place he could think of which would grant the girl sanctuary in her final days.

On the steps of the Temple, basins of flame barely aglow at the midnight hour, the priestess barely looks the pair of them over before turning them away. But all it takes is a foot to step with, to stop the stone door with a strength no human could muster.

He may only have his One God but the Romans had many, with many names and many faces among them. But what were the gods of mortals but powers beyond their understanding?

“Turn her away and you turn away the eyes of your Minerva herself.”

The pale woman bundles her palla up closer as if to best the wind that whistles through the open doorway. But her caution is her undoing — catches her glittering skin in the vestiges of the flames and eyes a little too wide, too aware.

That he does not pull back her veil to reveal the tips of her unnatural ears is only because now is a most desperate hour.

“The girl is an innocent, she is not of my blood.”

The etherie gives Cynbel the full weight of her glower. Eyes that have already seen a thousand years, maybe a thousand more still. That judge him unnatural and of the dead.

“The girl has chosen her fate, twining with those of the children of Phampira.”

“What fate is yet to come will reach far — even to your ‘tween realm. Whether you believe in my attempt to stop it or no, know that is my prophecy, and it will come true so long as Gaius Augustine wanders Rome.”

It is the name that churns the pot, that has the woman of unearthly magics giving cautionary looks about the abandoned temple steps before ushering him inside.

The smell of their foulness tickles at his nose and burrows like maggots beneath his skin. An itch he cannot scratch, the remnants of which he will feel for weeks to come. Such is the price of survival.

The eldest of them directs stragglers with an unfamiliar tongue. He can feel their glassy stares both direct and lurking afar as the two return with a thin bedroll and some meager excuse for a blanket. Somehow it still feels more substantial than what they had left at Nona’s home.

Their eyes at his back send gooseflesh racing down his arms; still his touch to her damp brow before he can collect himself — before he can work to block them out. This is a sanctuary and nothing more.

“I need you to gather your strength now,” he whispers vainly; knows those around catch his every word even as they skitter off like the fearful wild, “I have need of you yet.”

The first, the High Priestess, approaches on hesitant feet and leaves a clay bowl and cloth at their side. Looks Nona over wise and all-knowing.

“You have stretched this life beyond its means.”

“Save your judgment, etherie.”

“How many more lives will be lost in the storm that gathers at your heels?”

“However many it takes to keep my Beloved safe.”

As though summoned by his words the girl stirs beneath his hand. Clutches with a pale hand for him and she feels more than fragile, more than mortal. She feels as faint as smoke. The embers of her struggling to hold on in the downpour.

With glassy eyes Nona gazes up; looks at him without truly seeing. Moves her peeling lips in words unspoken; visions untold.

Yet no amount of his blood will heal her of this ill. As if he would not have tried it first? He knows the creature beside him could heal her easily. The effort of which would take no significant amount of its eternal years. Yet she watches idle; watches the girl while her life force fades still.

“Cyn…bel…”

Humans are warmth; filled with the heat of passion and life like he can no longer remember. Yet Nona beneath him is cold; grows colder. “I’m here, sweet girl. What do you see?”

He rests her silken touch on his temple, feels the sweat on his brow where gossamer strands stick to his skin.

Nona’s breathing grows ragged — stones in her lungs. The High Priestess can take no more and turns away, her veils lapping at her bare heels. So long as they give her rest it matters not.

“What do you see?”

“Blood. The river… the river runs of blood.”

“Through Rome?”

“Through the world. Spreading… spreading dark, dark out to the sea. Everything it touches; blood. In the lakes, the streams, ocean shores of salted froth and blooded rain falling in torrents. The Kingdom She Promised.”

There it is again.

The same words Gaius had said back in the exedra. A promised land — but for who? Where, and why? A promise to his Queen, Kamilah? Or was there a shadow unseen, behind the long tapestry of their kind made in the Godmaker’s wake, darker and beholding a creature even they could not fathom?

“She promised him peace,” says Nona; shakes Cynbel from his confusion because now was not the time to wonder of the future, the future that would matter not should he lose his love; “forged a blade of a broken shield. Yet now… now it has no master to wield it. The blade cannot wield itself. The blade cannot wield itself.”

Cynbel grits his teeth, resists the furrow in his brow. “That matters not. To me, seer, to me,” letting her tiny palm cradle his cheek, “I need you to see what he will do to my love. Will he be killed should the Godmaker succeed? Will Caesar if blooded of him?”

He would not call her petulant. Can see the toll taken on her even now. Any of a lesser faith would call her afflicted; possessed. Would stifle her gift but he needs it to flourish. If he is to save them it must.

“Answer me, seer. Should Caesar Turn, will my beloved die?”

A spectre passes over her. Nona convulses, then grows still. Lids heavy over eyes dull and near lifeless. Her blood slow, sluggish through her muddy veins.

“Nona — Nona—!”

If what she alone can see be not enough to stir her then so be it — he will be the monster of the abyss. Lets her hands fall limp to the stone floor and grasps her by the throat with a hand that betrays the true fear held back on threads of a barely-contained wrath.

Not long before what little breath she takes is a struggle; her heartbeat picking up in desperation. Eyes flying wide open as a flush overtakes her cheeks and Cynbel stares down unfeeling; no longer willing to be denied what he has been promised.

The world has always best responded to violence. Why should this be any different?

He allows himself — however briefly — to relish in the familiar sight of humanity ebbing from her expression as the animal instinct to survive takes over. Those same parchment-thin hands suddenly clawing at his stronger grip and this time when she tries to speak he knows he has the power to change it.

That’s why he uses her. For the power to change things beyond his knowledge. All of it; for them.

“Are you ready to answer me now?” He asks. Squeezes just… a little… tighter…

Nona continues to choke even when he releases her. Weakling lungs desperate to fill; to breathe — forcing her up through the pain of her affliction to choke and heave and grasp at her throat to remove even the memory of him from her flesh.

But that is a mercy Cynbel will no longer grant. His fingers tangle in her dark tresses — pulls her forward with a harsh tug to bring them intimately close.

He will not ask again. Nona’s life is in her own hands, now.

And fleeting though that life may be — she is desperate for it. “First the Empire, then the Pharaoh’s lands. Every Empire bathed in mortal blood — each crown dipped in his blood—by his hands. This world will fall, the New World will never rise. The dead cannot flourish — the shadow cannot grow. Caesar cannot Turn. It will be the end of everything.”

The end of everything.

The end of them. The end of him. The end of everything they have built.

Nona keens a strangled cry as he pulls her close — holds her aching, grieving. Her tears seep warm into his tunic and if she could she would no doubt wrench herself from him but the seer is weaker now than ever.

“‘For every pain there is purpose,’” Cynbel whispers into her skin; kisses there fond but not friendly — a gesture without love, “‘and every wound bore will bring wisdom.’”

What a comfort those words are. How they wrap around him like strong arms in the moments before the end.

He isn’t going to kill her now. He will; he has little choice in the matter. It has been seen… and cannot be undone.

“Thank you for all you have done for me, my sweet seer. For as long as I live I will be forever in your debt.”

Cruel though he is, it is not in his nature to be ungrateful. He waits until the sobs no longer wrack her body uncontrollable to lay her back upon her bedroll. He soaks the nearby cloth and wrings the water cool over his fingers before letting it rest on her weary eyes. Could the same thing be done for her inner eye he would offer a balm there, as well.

The vampire stands to take his leave; hesitates as he takes in from a distance just how small she is.

“You understand what you have done this night, child of Phampira.”

Cynbel schools his face in cool disinterest as he turns to face the High Priestess. Veils now fallen upon her shoulders, in the dark shimmers of their otherworldly etherie-fire she can be nothing other than what she is; with hair of snow that frames a face of youthful eternity and feline eyes that look upon him and name him behemoth.

“Ne’er again will you step within these halls. Lest even under the moon you feel the boiling of the sun’s light ignited in your veins.”

And he knows the threat is a real one — knows the dangers of those of his kind who have dared to tread over the toes of the etherie. Just as he knows the greed that lies beneath their radiance; greed of gold, of things deemed precious to the world of men.

She will be safe here.

At the base of the Temple of Minerva Cynbel stops and turns his face to what little he can stand of the paling sky. Tastes of the clouds on his tongue and allows himself the burden of memory.

“‘It is in the nature of us to covet, for we are because we could not choose between death and life.’” And as his first and only glimpse of divinity had whispered such gospel in his ear and cradled him in death-into-rebirth, he found them true.

Marcus Brutus changes everything.

When last Valdemaras met with the Senator Cassius it was to convince him to steal away their conspiracy in the night. Not only to secret their machinations to the shadows rather than risk arrest at the hands of Caesar’s loyal, but also to ensure his attendance; for the vengeful god Valdemaras was eager to see the Conqueror of Gaul and the Empire of Rome undone in the name of his beloveds.

But a vision comes to Brutus in the same dawn that reaches Cynbel’s hasty retreat from the temple.

“The Fates whisper to me,” he tells Cassius fearfully, “in such horrible voices. They whisper with the tongues of the dead by Caesar’s hand. They demand him slain at the feet of his Senate. They demand him seen by all, even those who would placate Caesar.”

Even men of little faith such as a Roman Senate do not ignore a righteous calling such as that. They use it to steady their trembling hands, to give justice in their traitorous steel.

So it is done. Caesar does not see sunset on the Ides of March.

He dies a mortal man; surrounded by enemies of his own making.

Godmaker, they call him. And the name rings true. His wrath—enough to stir the heavens and send the sun cowering early into the night.

Bone clutched in sheet-white fists and fangs grit to draw blood between his tongue; his demands not met by an intervention perhaps more sacred than divine. Even his Queen steps clear of his path of destruction — wide, unyielding, merciless.

“You,” snarls the Godmaker when he rounds on their god; turns his eyes with the fury of Titans where the blood god Valdemaras stands between him and his faithful because he could not be anywhere else, “if it comes to light you had anything to do with this—if you so much as whispered in an ear, or sent a blighted missive…”

When his hand raises a collective fear ripples through the three lovers; strong together, yes — but equally as vulnerable.

“I did not.”

“I will wring the truth from the marrow of your bones!”

“I did not!” Valdas screams. Gaius tortures him anyway.

Fire burns in his veins; a thousand deaths that didn’t quite take.

But it, too, passes. As the tempest of the Godmaker moves on from the spec of space they have become in the mere potential of his wrathful wake.

It had taken the lifetime of one influential man, several of lesser status, to bring them the wealth of their villa. Just as it takes the Godmaker one night to turn it all to rubble at their feet.

It is carnage for carnage’s sakes and yet they cannot find pleasure in it — when they look at the hollow, milk-white eyes of servants whose names they would never remember they know it could just as easily have been them in this burial mound of marble destruction.

The devoted of Valdemaras fall to their knees. Raise him up as they have done everything else: together.

And when the Golden Son raises his head he sees, through the cloud of dust and the ruins of their Roman lives, the Godmaker’s Queen does not look as sympathetic for her King’s loss as she should.

Why would she?

They are devoted to him utterly and completely. Yet that does not stop them from exchanging glances over the sweat on their god’s brow that they kiss with lips that taste of their tears.

“Did you do this?” they ask. Valdas did not.

“But I wish I had.”

In the nights that follow there are many times Cynbel feels confession on the tip of his tongue. That he looks upon them and knows in some far-gone and hidden part of him that events may not have unfolded the way they did had he not brought Nona to the etherie; had they not heard her prophecy of The End and somehow were the undoing of it.

But no matter the distance they put between themselves and Rome the darkness of the Godmaker lingers over them — a shroud. To tell them, he believes, would be to cast aside the curtain and burn them all alive.

Perhaps he is wrong. Perhaps this was simply the way things were meant to be.

Perhaps not.

I have proven you wrong, sweet seer. And I will again.

[skybound2]

LOOK

Look, I KNOW that all of us fandom type peeps have a TEENY TINY TENDENCY to see our OTPs IN EVERYTHING, and for A LOT OF US, music, MUSIC is like the ULTIMATE GATEWAY, right? And I mean, we reach, right? We will like REEEEACH to make whatever song we are listening to at the moment FIT, right? (I mean, you know I’m right, right?)

What is my point? MY POINT?! My point is that for the lot of us on the Good Omens Ineffable Husband train (which, if I am doing my math right, is approximately 99.999% of tumblr atm) HAVE I GOT A SONG FOR YOU. And LIKE, I AM NOT EVEN REACHING ON THIS ONE, I SWEAR IT. Like, NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT.* 

Ahem what was I saying? Ahhh! YES! THE MUSIC! Or, well, ONE SONG REALLY. SO THIS IS THE SONG: 

“There Will Be Time” by Mumford & Sons and Baaba Maal. Some of the lyrics are in Pulaar, but the video above provides a translation, AND THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT and they FIT SO WELL!! 

And because I am a kind and caring (and OBSESSED) individual, I have written them down here for you too:

[In Pulaar]

Listen to me, I want to tell you something The reason I love you is because You are the only one who has taught me how to love And appreciate life

[In English]

In the cold light, I live to love and adore you It’s all that I am, it’s all that I have In the cold light, I live, I only live for you It’s all that I am, it’s all that I have

[In Pulaar]

To feel hurt and feel joy Feelings that come from loving you Situations can change between the morning and the night But our love for each other stays the same It stays strong It is constant, and it remains true

[In English]

So open up my eyes to a new light I wandered ‘round your darkened land all night But I lift up my eyes to a new high And indeed there would be time

But in the cold light, I live to love and adore you It’s all that I am, it’s all that I have And in the cold light I live, I only live for you It’s all that I am, it’s all that I have

And in the cold light, I live to love and adore you It’s all that I am, it’s all that I have In the cold light, I live to love and adore you It’s all that I am, it’s all that I have Why do I keep falling? Why do I keep falling?

A time to love A time to sing, a time to shine A time to leave, a time to stay There is a time, a time to cry A time to love, a time to live There is a time, a time to sing A time to love

And in the cold light, I live to love and adore you It’s all that I am, it’s all that I have In the cold light, I live, I only live for you It’s all that I am, it’s all that I have Why do I keep falling? Why do I keep falling?

*Let’s be honest, even if I AM reaching, I don’t care. I am gonna just listen to the song on repeat and BE HAPPY THINKING ABOUT THEM. That’s what I’m going to do.

[melusine0811]

In the cold light, I live to love and adore you

It's all that I am, it's all that I have

In the cold light, I live, I only live for you

It's all that I am, it's all that I have

So open up my eyes to a new light

I wandered 'round your darkened land all night

But I lift up my eyes to a new high

And indeed there would be time

But in the cold light, I live to love and adore you

It's all that I am, it's all that I have

And in the cold light I live, I only live for you

It's all that I am, it's all that I have

And in the cold light, I live to love and adore you

It's all that I am, it's all that I have

In the cold light, I live to love and adore you

It's all that I am, it's all that I have

Why do I keep falling?

Why do I keep falling?

A time to love

A time to sing, a time to shine

A time to leave, a time to stay

There is a time, a time to cry

A time to love, a time to live

There is a time, a time to sing

A time to love

And in the cold light, I live to love and adore you

It's all that I am, it's all that I have

In the cold light, I live, I only live for you

It's all that I am, it's all that I have

Why do I keep falling?

Why do I keep falling?

[rhabakoli]

A lil something

@dreamwritesimagines There you go. Also, I hope your anon likes it, I’ve been better, I swear.  @marauderskeeper just adding you here, in case you wanted to see, you know. 

When you stood in front of Ivars bedchamber, you were ready to turn around and run for the hills. Yes, you were nervous. He’d said your skills in bed were unremarkable. In your defense, you were a virgin, until that first night with him. But you did need to bring an heir into this world, so he’d have to deal. You straightened your back, held your head high and took another deep breath. When you felt ready, you pushed the door open. Ivar was already in bed, reading some papers. When he heard the heavy wood move, he put them down and opened his mouth to cuss at whoever dared to come in. But then he recognized your figure. His face fell, he looked panicky for a second, before he reeled himself in and sat up straighter. “What do you want?”  You needed a moment to gather your wits. It had been a while since you saw his naked torso. And, by the Gods. He really was built like one.  You then remembered yourself and moved your eyes up to his face. Despite the chilled attitude you’ve presented last time you saw him, you didn’t trust yourself to talk.  Instead, you dropped your furs and went over to his side. You could feel his eyes on your figure, wandering up and down your body. The shivers going through you weren’t just caused by the chill room. You remembered last time very well. As did your body, apparently.  The papers on his lap were taken care of quickly. “Y/N-” Ivar swallowed thickly, his hands gripping the furs on his bed tightly, knuckles going white.. “What are you doing?” He didn’t really have to ask. He knew very well, and his body was just as much a traitor as yours was. His eyes roamed over your naked body, tracked your every move as you slipped off the nightgown and set a knee on the bed.  Ivar wasn’t resisting, or asking again. He just watched you with his piercing blue eyes, until you thought you’d melt. It was not fair. How could he still have such an effect on you? But, alas, you weren’t the only one feeling affected. You smirked, when you lifted the blankets. He was hard already. Maybe he was a liar after all.  You crawled over him, straddling his thighs and sat back for a moment.  You needed this. You wanted to see the look of adoration on his face, and if it was just for one last time. And, Gods, if he wasn’t absolutely delivering. He looked unsure, but at the same time there was such a look of wonder and reverence on his face, you had trouble breathing.  “Y/N.” He breathed your name. It sounded so precious and treasured when he said it. No trace of betrayal and anger. His hands came up to settle on your thighs. Quickly, you took his wrists and put them back on the bed.  “No.”  It was quiet, but you knew he heard it. You knew just by looking at his face. Blue eyes darkened, pupils blown, lips parted in an attempt to regain breath and control over his body. He nodded.  Slowly, oh so slowly you stood up on your knees and went closer. With one hand you grabbed the headboard next to his head, with the other you guided him inside you.  A sharp intake of breath and a stifled moan filled the air between you, but you honestly couldn’t say if it was your own or his. You were in no hurry, so you took your time taking him in. He was big, just as everything else about him.  You didn’t realize you had closed your eyes, until his whole length was in you. It had taken a while, but you managed. 

At a dull knock you looked down. Ivars knuckles were white, his hands fisted in the furs, biceps bulging. His head was leaned back against the beds wood, he was biting his lip, and his eyes were still on you. He looked like he was about to devour you, conquer you and probably get a couple orgasms out of you in the process. You had to suppress a moan at that. You couldn’t let him take over, you just couldn’t. So, you started moving. Instantly, Ivars lips opened and he let out a shuddering moan. You hid a smile and leaned you head back, so all he could see was vast expanse of soft skin, he wasn’t allowed to touch. You could feel him react to your antics, and you grew bolder. To know you made him feel like that, made him look like he did, aroused and almost desperate, made you proud. Which was not the best move, in light of recent events, but you couldn’t help it. You moved your hips up and down, in circles, and dipped them in search for that one spot, that made you see stars last time. The room was filled with moans, harsh, heavy breathing and the sound of sex. “Gods, you-”  A particular harsh hip dip made him gasp and stop. His hands came up, up to your hip. His fingers were digging into your skin and he cursed. At you, at the world, the Gods, at himself, you’d never know.  You stopped, snatched his hands from your body and pressed them down into the bed again. “I said no.”  He jumped inside you, you could feel it, and it felt amazing, He looked at you like a mad man nostrils flaring, jaw tensing. He released a breath through the nose,trying to calm himself. His fists opened, and he turned his wrists in your grip, presenting his hands to you. In a moment of weakness, you let him slip his fingers between yours.  Until now, he had been fighting to stay passive and let you find your rhythm. But not anymore. When you started moving, he did too. His stomach clenched and released with every thrust, a couple of times even hard enough to make you fall forward.  “Y/N, I swear to Odin, to Thor, I swear to whoever you seem fitting, I will never hurt you, again.”  His hold on your hands grew stronger. “I will- ah--”  You had freed one hand from his and buried it in his hair. Pulling his head back, you planted a fierce, hard kiss on his lips, over way too soon, but enough to make him feel lightheaded. “Stop. Talking.”  His eyes grew darker, his pupils blown enough to make them seem black. “You are a goddess.”  You moved your hips faster, leaned back a bit, hand still in his hair and let out a deep moan, when he hit the spot you’ve been looking for. A shiver went through your body and you were chasing it like an addict. Faster and faster, moaning louder, more frequent, you didn’t care anymore if anyone heard. You wanted this feeling to last longer. Sweaty thighs sliding against each other, white knuckles and Ivar praising you. The air was saturated with your combined smells, with the sound of slick skin, the bed creaking. And suddenly, there it was. Hot, sharp needles starting in your toes and fingertips, that’s when you knew it would be over very soon. A smile sneaked onto your lips, it felt wonderful. And when it hit, it hit hard. You fell forward like a lifeless doll, head on Ivars shoulder as he chased his orgasm himself, shivers wracking through your body and you had no mind to control it. When was the last time you where this relaxed?  Satisfied, you turned your head and buried your nose in the skin there, still lazily circling your hips. Somewhere in the back of your hazy mind, you recognized the feeling of warmth filling you.  Ivar let your hand go, grabbed your hair, mirroring your move from before and angled you head up, so he’d be able to kiss you. “You.”  He kissed you again, softer, loving. “You are everything.”  His voice brought you back into reality. With a sigh, you sat up. His hand were back on your cheeks in an instant, caressing your skin, handling you like you were made of glass.  But if you’d been made of glass, his care came too late.  You got off him, off the bed and picked up your nightgown. It hurt you, how couldn’t it? But it had to be.  “Y/N? What are you doing?”  “Going back to my room.” You picked up the fur and heard Ivar scrambling over the furs and to the edge of the bed to get to you. His hand landed on your elbow.  “What do you mean, we just- we just-”  God, he couldn’t even say it.  “I was merely fulfilling my duty as Queen of Kattegat, your Grace.” Those words made him freeze. His hand fell limbly from your arm, eyes big and round, unbelieving. You wisely used this moment to escape his bedchamber.

You were almost back in your own room, when a furious roar, not unlike that of a hurt animal, filled the air. Your feet moved faster, as you felt the tears come. No one should see you like this, least of all Ivars brothers, who surely were up and on their way already. You needed the security of your own bed, one that didn’t smell like Ivar, to cry in peace. Before you slipped in, you stopped. You smelled like him. For a short moment you thought about getting a servant to prepare a bath for you, but then you decided against it. Just one more night. You’d take a bath in the morning and Gala would change the sheets. You’d handle it tomorrow, but tonight you wanted burrow in his scent and dream of happier times.

Little did you know that Ivar had the same plan.

[writerman]

DO ME SOME BARD "WALKING IN ON" THRAN "SHOWERING" UNDER A WATERFALL IN THE FOREST. ADMIRING HIM AND HIS BEAUTY AND THRAN NOTICES. SUPER GAY PLS. YAAAAAS!

//Cue the cheesy 70’s porn music. Ahaha, I am kidding, I have nothing but joke about this with you for 2 weeks. I am finally round to getting this done, and I tried to make it smut-tastic for you. Think I failed on that front. 

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The height of summer.

Everything thirsted for water, the trees, the grass… sun baked plants, animals heaved their sweat soaked bodies into the shade and remained there for the duration of the day until night fell, and they could move unimpeded by the harsh glowing orb in the sky.

Thranduil had suffered too, as the sun set he stole away into the darkening forest alone, his feet taking him exactly where he needed to be.

A pool in the depths of the forest, found in a clearing nestled amongst the shadows of the tallest trees.

The bright moon above bathing everything in a  pale silvery light, only the sound of the night birds and the babbling of the small waterfall that connected the stream to the pool could be heard.

The lord of the forest wasted no time in divesting himself of his clothing, his heated skin ached and it longed for the cool waters that lay still and so tantalisingly near.

His heart raced as he sensed a presence nearby, so sudden it had been that Thranduil cursed himself mentally for allowing his mind to wander but the heat had left him feeling sluggish, his skin felt taut from the intensely dry air and his eyes heavy, but it did not halt him in his actions. With measured movements he removed the last item of clothing and set it with the rest.

This presence, a stranger perhaps… he would not let it bother him, the spirits of the forest were oft mischievous but left well enough alone, meaning only to tease before going on their merry way again.

The branches of the trees reaching high above him swayed with a light breeze and the blond felt relief wash over him, this reprieve from the sun and his fierce gaze felt as though a blessing had been given from the Valar.

For a moment Thranduil remained still listening to the sound of the forest around him, the life that slunk in and out of the darkness between the shafts of moonlight that penetrated the canopy above, always there, always vigilant.

Something was watching. A spirit?

No...

The sound of panting from a strange and ravenous thing… dangerous a creature that stalks with hunger that clenches at the stomach and the heart.

A wolf walked among the trees, ah, something that wore the guise of a wolf, eyes hotter than the sun that had blazed so mercilessly down over the lands that day, movements far more erratic than that of a graceful creature such as a wolf, but just as hungry.

He wondered idly how he must have looked, his pale skin glowing under the light of the moon, was he in danger of being devoured before the nights end?

So vulnerable now without the shield of clothing to protect him, but rather than dwell on the beast, that may or may not be hounding him, Thranduil stepped into the cool water a sigh caught in his throat that came out a purr.

Glorious.

For a moment everything was quiet, the threat seemingly vanished from his surroundings. He leaned against the edge of the pool, his hair splaying over the grass as he let the cold seep in to his skin to his very bones.

Never had he wished so much for the harshness of winter.

Before he had time to think his head was yanked back and his eyes met with a gaze so heated he’d feared Smaug himself had risen from the dead.

The hand that had tangled itself in Thranduil’s hair tugged again and the elf turned his face from those lust darkened eyes, his neck exposed and a shudder passed through him unbidden.

The game had begun, Bard had found him, taken him by surprise and as such Thranduil was the pray to this hunter. He had no control over the nights events, only when the sun rose in the sky would he have any say in what was said and done.

The man slipped into the water beside him, barely a sound made as the pool rippled around them, the night birds were still singing but the elven lord could scarcely hear them over the sound of his harsh breathing.

“You started this game, and I shall end it. You nearly lost me, but I knew you'd be here- you wanted to be caught.

I feel your heart racing, how it flutters and flies in your chest like a fragile creature caged against its will.” Bard voice was more a growl as he spoke, but oh the sound of barely concealed lust thrilled the elf, though no words would come his tongue let every word die as Bard leaned into kiss and nip at his still exposed neck.

What were words when the man at his side could drag out moans that sounded like songs sent to the Heavens?

The pleasant chill in Thranduil's bones was long gone, the shudder that came was not from the night air but from the absolutely delicious feeling of letting go of his power.

To have this man, this man he so dearly adored and trusted, take that power from him with ease was a balm that soothed his stresses away.

Leading a kingdom for thousands of years was hard and left him weary, but now after years alone he had found someone that he could lean on.

Bard never judged Thranduil when he found him too tired for conversation after a long day of debates and paperwork. Bard never expected more time than Thranduil could give, and for this the elf was eternally grateful.

The King of Dale was a support he never expected to have. A wholly new experience to have a man stand by him and hold him up if he truly needed it.

“Thranduil, are you alright?” The blond was pulled from his thoughts by Bard's concerned voice and he felt a flush creep over his pale skin.

He heard Bard sigh and watched as he moved back, he felt the hand tangled in his hair release its grip and he stepped back to give Thranduil space to stand up.

He followed Bard as he moved away all the while offering him an apologetic look, reaching out he let his palm smooth over Bard’s cheek.

Meleth, I apologise, my mind wandered,” Thranduil began, his tone conciliatory hoping his bowman did not hold any ire towards him, “It was not you, please do not think me capable of of being tired of you so easily.” At his words Bard gave him a stunned look and he surged forward claiming Thranduil’s lips with his own.

When they parted again Bard spoke.

“I admit in the past I worried and, perhaps, in the future I may also be, but right now do not fear what I think. All I know is that you look so lovely under the moonlight.” The Bowman’s words mumbled- his lips now only inches from Thranduil’s loathing to be parted from the other even for a second. His deep brown eyes met with clear blue and a sigh escaped Thranduil’s throat.

Even in tense moments he could rely on Bard to lift him up for a spell, he worried at times he would live on a pedestal in Bard’s eyes but the bowman had taken him down a peg or two since they had been married.

For that he would leave his heart in Bard’s hands without hesitation.

“These wandering thoughts of mine, they almost always come to rest on you.” Thranduil spoke quietly, having the decency to look, somewhat, embarrassed by his admission.

Bard quirked a brow, a sultry grin forming as he rest his forehead against the elf’s.

“Oh?” The sound of pure lust that returned to Bard’s voice and how he sounded so suddenly wrecked, it sent a thrill to Thranduil’s very centre and he without further words he lifted his arms to Bard’s waist and pulled him so that they were pressed against one another again, though he would not deny that the fact Bard was still dressed seemed unfair to him.

As though he had heard his thoughts, Bard pulled off his shirt and tossed it on to the banks of the stream where it landed with a wet slap against the grass, for a spell Thranduil merely watched as the other undressed.

A small sigh escaping as he imagined what that body felt like against him, how it had felt the very first time and how it would feel that very night under the moonlight.

The sighed earned another brow quirk.

“Care to share those thoughts of yours, don’t be so cruel as to keep all those naughty thoughts to yourself.”

“I would much rather show you what I had in mind than tell you, haven’t I left you teetering on the edge of lust all night, should I not allow you to take control and take from me what you wish?” The game was back on and Bard relished the feeling of Thranduil relinquishing his power, the exhilarating feeling of having the most powerful man he had ever met at his mercy was slowly chipping at any resolve he had when it came to holding himself back.

There were no more words between them, Bard dragged Thranduil to him lips at the elf’s neck, one hand pressed at his lower back to keep him close and the other between Thranduil’s legs.

The chilled water did not bother them, even as Bard roughly turned Thranduil so his back was to him, pushing him over the edge of the side of the pool, the water splashing up around them at the sudden quick movements.

He was roughly bent over with one pale cheek against the grass, and Thranduil moaned as he raked his fingers through the dirt gripping at tufts of grass, this is the power Bard exuded that Thranduil so dearly begged to witness and now as he was in throes of passion he thanked the stars that his wish was granted.

The sun was rising, the gold and orange glow that streaked over the sky gave promise of another searing day- the birds already up and singing as loud as they could from their still shaded roosts.

Bard was still sleeping, but Thranduil had been awake for an hour already watching the forest wake up, listening to the songs of the trees, the dawn chorus ushering in a brand new day… though at every moment his mind wandered he found his gaze moving back to his husband.

He slept soundly in the grass, his clothes slung over a low branch to dry before they returned home. Thranduil had not yet dressed, he relished in the feeling of the cool wind against his kiss bruised skin- though he was weary he was ready for the day.

Any tension he had held on to had been washed away with the nights events and while he knew this day would be long, the heat making it nigh unbearable he knew he would remain in good spirits.

Now that he and Bard were no longer parted, their family would reunite and all would be well in his world once again.

For now he would allow the day to start without him, for now he would lie in the grass at his husband’s side until responsibility called out to him with the voice of his royal aides.

Then and only then would he move to consider answering their call.