#my reasoning is flawless (their hair goes in opposite directions)

[mithryl-draws]

to be completely fair to kazan, he's better at memes than most of the ancient samurai i know.

[mintvender]

UTOPIA [ 7 ]

Pairing: BTS x Y/N

Synopsis: Y/N L/N, the name of the current monarch of Corea. They became the ruler after successfully ending the previous king along with the dynasty as well. In their harem, countless men are present to help balance the court’s power. However, is this truly their intentions? The palace was always a place that needs to be proceeded with caution but as time goes by, recklessness would most likely outweigh it. You found yourself unable to prosper the kingdom without being too connected to it.

HaremAu!

Warning : Suggestive Content

Word Count: 9.8k

A/n: Finally finished this chapter. This chapter marks the end of the first era where the main ensemble finally unite. However, this is also the start of something else. Tell me what you think, 🌿.

Masterlist

Humming a quiet melody, you felt the air around you stirred. Closing your eyes, you focus on the sensation of the flow around you, patiently waiting for a response. Expectedly, your question was not answered.

Nevertheless, you knew better than to give up your standing and continue to participate in this wordless battle. After all, as a member of the Crimson branch, it would hurt your pride to lose to such a miscellaneous game.

Slowly but surely, the air around you both began to constrict, seemingly trapping you in its borders. However, instead of surrendering to either of your guys’ unmoving selves, none made a move in anything close to failure and instead, waited.

Such a manipulator.

Seconds steadily merge into minutes, and before you know it, you are left with a quarter of an hour before having to head back. Looking at the entrance of the alley, it had seemed that the sun was already setting. Turning around to meet Raven’s eyes, you let out a smirk before pushing yourself off the walls.

“ If you don’t have anything to say then I guess there is no other purpose being here,” you taunted, heading towards the bustling street.

Purposely exaggerating your steps to enhance the sound of your shoes colliding with the floor, you confidently walk the opposite way, not glancing back. However, before you can bathe under the colourful lanterns, an arm slid around yours, pulling you back into the darkness.

Quick to hide your growing smirk, you let yourself be dragged back deep within the alley. Turning around, you look down at the piercing eyes, staring menacingly into your own.

“ Stop joking around,” Raven warned.

“ Answer my question then,” you insisted, “ Why have you called me?”

Even with the mask, you could tell that she was rolling her eyes at your ridiculous question. Reaching into her long sleeve, Raven took out a thin envelope and shoved it into your arms.

“ The Master wanted to give this to you.”

Looking at her knowingly, you flick the tab open, reaching in to get the paper. Pulling the paper out, you motioned her to bring the lantern closer. You both peered through the content of the letter, processing the intentions that have been conveyed. Looking into each others’ eyes, silently having a conversation.

After a while, you both synchronously nodded, agreeing on the best solution.

Standing straight up, you carefully tuck the letter into your inner sleeve. You patted the spot a few times to test its stability as you mindlessly listened to Raven’s plan.

“ You do know that it is better to do it now than later right?”

Stopping what you were doing, you clench your hands repeatedly while staring at the ground. Letting out a tired sigh, you tussled through your hair in frustration, making obvious attempts to ignore her question.

“ You kno—“

“ I know!” You growled, biting your inner cheeks. “ I… need time to adapt to this current life. After that… I will tell them.”

Without looking at her, you could already define her expression of knowingness. Even so, you ignored it, too caught up with your thoughts and forceful emotions.

Letting out a loud sigh, “ Mind joining me for a drink?”

Looking into Raven’s eyes, you could almost spot specks of whites and yellows swirling into her magnificent midnight black orbs. Despite how gorgeous they were, you knew that they held nothing more than pity and sympathy; ones that aimed at you— your decisions specifically.

Once again, you both held eye contact for however long before Raven broke it with a gentle shake of her head. She nodded, quietly accepting your invitation, stepping away from you.

Following her lead, you nodded, tightening your grasp on your own mask, in which you had taken off unconsciously during the discussion.

Fingers running through the surface, you admire each stroke that has been carved into the wood. Unlike Raven’s who was smothered in shades of black and grey, yours was painted in a variety of red and gold. In another way, it showcases the difference between your animal and hers.

Each member of the clan is subjected to form their alias based on their branch and their ones that resonate with them.

For example, your branch— the crimson branch is categorized as a physical branch, people who focus on close combat. As a result, all the members within the branch are named after predators of all kinds, except birds. Raven, who belonged to the Gold branch, specializing in long-distance attacks, are thus named after various avians. With that, the Azures are categorized to different strategic pieces and theories, while the Veridian branch are varieties of poisons, and the Titanium branch, are all the raw materials used for craftsmanship.

Bringing the mask to your face, you quickly fasten it, lifting your hair to hide the knot under it. You started heading out of the alley, Raven following right after you and into the clusters of light.

As you both walked through the noisy crowd, you glanced around at the assorted shades of lanterns that are hanged throughout the district, most in deep, bright shades of red, confirming that you were indeed in the epicentre of the red district.

The red district was a very interesting place that attracts a wide audience— for the many different reasons that are available. Some people come here to do business— both legal and illegally, while some search for companions—for the reasons you won’t go into. Anyways, in your guys’ case, it was the former. Now for whether it’s legal or illegal? You didn’t exactly know.

Along the way, you randomly chose a cozy-looking winery in the depth of the district, one that wasn’t filled with too many lustful people.

This particular winery was unlike many others. Instead of drenching in the odour of alcohol, the winery quickly filled your senses with a delicate and flowery scent. Curiosity hitting you like a brick wall, you glanced around to try and find where the scent was coming from.

“ Welcome, precious guests,” a velvety voice greeted.

Perking your head up at the voice, your head naturally followed the direction. Immediately after looking up, you were faced with a figure adorned in pieces of red. Unexpectedly, the voice owner’s face was beyond any noble ladies in the capital, with a sharp yet captivating gaze, and perfect proportions. To say the least, she was flawless.

Seeing your guys’ silence, the lady let out a smile.

“ Please, follow me,” she said, leading you into a quiet corner, invisible to most people.

You nodded in gratitude, taking a seat on one of the wooden chairs.

“ What would you like?”

Looking contemplated, Raven asked, “ What do you specialize in?”

Eyes sparkling in excitement at Raven’s word, the lady clasped her hand together before clearing her throat, “ Finally! The Silvering Winery specializes in mixed drinks.”

Raising your eyebrow, curious of the reason for her being so excited, you asked, “ Don’t people come here for that since it’s your specialty?”

Reacting to your question, the lady huffed out a sigh, her eyebrows crunching up in frustration. “ Of course not! All we have coming are old, drunken men who know nothing more than jugs of those tasteless alcohol! With our location, even if so hidden, people still manage to find it. No one ever asks for mixed drinks… until now at least.”

You smiled, taking interest in her talk, “ Any recommendations you have?”

Tapping her chin carefully, the lady took her time to think as she scanned over the both of you. “ Mhmm, how about this? I’ll create drinks based on what I get from each of you.”

Raven hummed in agreement while you nodded in interest,“ Please… Mmm...Is there perhaps a name we could possibly address you?”

Plushed lips curling up to a smile, she answered, “ Please call me… Lisa.”

“ Sounds foreign.”

Lisa nodded, “ I’m from the west.”

Smiling at her words, you introduced, “ Please call me Phoenix.”

“ Raven.”

“ Then we’ll be in your care, Lisa.”

Turning around, Lisa headed off to what seemed to be the kitchen, “ Don’t worry, I never disappoint my customers.”

You waited for the retrieving figure to enter the kitchen before setting your eyes back to the decor of the place. The whole venue was covered in wood, planks attached to the floor while chunkier pieces are used to form tables. Smaller pieces of wood are spotted splattered across the walls and the tops of the very many seats. On your guys’ table, a tray sat there, holding a plate of sweets accompanied by two wooden cups, filled to the brim with scorching hot herbal tea.

Reaching over to grab yours, Raven following right after, you both enjoyed the taste of the herbs in silence. Letting the bitter taste coat your skin, you hummed in satisfaction as the warmth spread through your body, seeping into your core.

Unlike your usual mask where it covers your entire face, this one only covered half of it, thus making it much more convenient to use during these situations.

“ It’s been a while since we’ve had a normal conversation.”

Humming in interest, Raven continued to sip her tea.

“ How have you been?”

“ ...I’ve been good. Just the usual stuff, nothing new.”

Nodding in acknowledgement, you reach over to grab a piece of sweet.

“ How have you been?”

Biting into the dessert, you munch on it while thinking over the question. “ It’s been hectic. This year has been a little … overwhelming.”

By the perked-up eyebrows, you could tell that she was interested in your wording but seeing how she had no intentions of mentioning it, you also dismissed the minor detail.

“ The Master had given you such a significant mission, it’s no wonder it would be so tiring.”

Tightening your lip to form a small smile, you nodded in agreement, your head bouncing with the force. “ In the beginning, I often wondered why the Master has assigned me to be leading this mission when there are clearly more suitable people than me.”

“ Who?”

Looking down to your own cup, you stared into the reflection of yourself painted on the layer of liquid. “ … For starters, you.”

Chuckling at your response, Raven eyed your slightly sunken form. “ Me? I have no interest in this type of mission. In fact, I’m quite glad that you were assigned to it. This way, at least, I have some reassurance that the mission is more likely to succeed.”

Refusing to look at her, you smiled in acknowledgement, the happiness unable to reach your eyes.

Seeing your sullen state, Raven reached out her hand to grasp yours, comfortably stroking over your knuckles.

“ You will do fine. In fact, you’ve done so much more than what that bastard has ever achieved in his entire life.”

Wincing at Raven’s profanity, you cracked out a smile.

“ You’re lucky he’s dead, if not…” you spaced out, slicing your finger across your neck to continue your sentence.

Raven smiled at your joke. “ You’re part of the Crimson branch, Y/n, a predator that stands out among the rest,” Raven reminded you, “ I know that this is weighing a great deal of pressure on you but know that we are always here to assist you.”

“ ...You’re really bittersweet, Raven.”

Blinking calmly at your comment, Raven replied, “ Of course.”

Feeling the conversation fade away, you both followed the flow, quietly minding each other’s interest.

“ What’s with the atmosphere here?” Lisa announced, entering the scene, carrying the beverages on a tray. “ Now, now. Don’t be too sullen. Let me cheer you up with these drinks,” she proudly proclaimed.

Looking at the drinks that she had placed in front of you, your eyes glimmered in interest. Picking the cup up, you brought it closer to you, inspecting the contents within the cup.

“ What is this?” You asked, sniffing the aroma that was escaping.

Resting her arms on her hips, she explained, “ With Raven’s, I decided to go with a simple drink. A combination of our winery’s signature wine and rice wine have been added to highlight a clean yet edgy taste. Swan Knife”

Raven nodded, lips curling up in satisfaction. Picking up her cup, she slowly bring it to her lips, taking small gulps to savor the taste. “ Swan Knife? Mhmm, it fits.”

“ Of course.”

“ What about mine?”

Clapping her hand in excitement, Lisa giddily answered, “ Yours was a combination of the winery’s freshest batch and an old brandy imported from the west. I topped the drink off with a little citrusy tang to highlight the harmony of the senses. Overall, you will experience the sharp, bitter, and tangy sensation in one mouthful. Bittersweet Kiss.”

Taking in a deep breath, you mentally cringed at the name while Raven openly smirked at the coincidence. “ Sounds like a roller coaster,” you hummed, taking your gulp.

Closing your eyes, you let the taste of the alcohol cover every crevice of your mouth, confirming what Lisa said to be true.

“ Interesting,” you said, “ Definitely worth your praise.”

Preening at your praise, she happily thanked you.

Using the tea to cleanse your palate, you repeatedly go back and force between the two beverages.

“ Why don’t you join us, Lisa?” Raven offered.

Shaking her head, she gave out a sad expression, “ I’m afraid that won’t be possible. My other customers are waiting.”

Taking a quick look around, you couldn’t spot any other customer except for yourself and Raven. However, as if on cue, the door was slammed open, revealing a bunch of drunken men, toppling over each other to try and enter the space.

“ LISA! Give me the usual!”

Rolling her eyes at the male, she quickly covered it with a smile, bowing in greeting at you before heading over to the other customers.

“ She seemed like an interesting fellow,” you noted before going back to your drink.

“... Has the Master been demanding?”

Stopping yourself at the question, you bite your lip in confliction. “ In some aspects, yes, he is. But I still don’t understand what we are getting out from these missions.”

Raven swirl her drink in a circular motion. “ The Master is planning something big.”

You snorted, “ Of course he is. He wouldn't assign me this mission for some petty excuses. You...you know something right?”

Confirming your theory at her refusal to look you in the eye, you nodded in understanding. “ You don’t need to tell me. I understand.”

“ No, it’s not because I don’t want to tell you but it’s … complicated. But what I can definitely guarantee you is that the Master is planning something that you will never expect.”

Staring at her features, you slowly studied the face that you’ve known for years. Suddenly, you came up with a surprise connection, one you didn’t expect to come nor become real.

“ If I look at you now, you hold some resemblance with someone I know,” you nonchalantly commented.

Stiffening at your sudden observation, Raven fidget with the cup in her hand as you stared her down, trying to identify who it was.

“ Who?” She meekly asked.

“... H— No i think I’ve mistaken you with someone else,” you covered up.

There’s no way that this is a coincidence. I’m just overthinking it.

Subtly shutting her eyes at your response, it was obvious that Raven didn’t wholeheartedly believe your words but ignored it either way.

“ I heard that you started adopting consorts, and changed the initial plan.”

“ … I did unconsciously recruit a few more consorts aside from Taehyung, and did manage to alter some part of the plan. However, I promised that it’s nothing major. The plan is progressing relatively smoothly.”

Chuckling at yoru panicked voice, she assured you, “ It’s fine. There’s no need to panic, I was just asking… Are they good people?”

Unconsciously smiling at the thought, you hesitantly nodded. “ They’re interesting people. Certainly unique in their own little ways.”

“ You know that you attract many people to your ways, right?”

Snorting at her response, you cheekily grinned. “ Good or bad, I wonder.”

Raven looked at you knowingly, before smugly looking at the decor around you, not wanting to give out a verbal response. Raising your eyebrows at her antiques, you also took your stride in looking around.

On instinct, you looked over at the opened doors to be met with a background of the dark sky, illuminated by lanterns. Hastily standing up, you bided Raven goodbye, “ Looks like it’s my time to go now. When you have the time, make sure to stop at my place.”

Going to the door, you almost couldn’t catch Raven’s greetings. Feeling a small smile adorned your face, you quickly exited the winery and back into the streets.

Looking at your previous spot, Raven mindlessly sipped her drink.

“ They’re certainly an interesting one, aren’t they?” Lisa pipped in.

Raven smiled, “ Definitely.”

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

Once again in the crowds of the festival, you hurriedly dodge through the drunkens, careful to not hit the vulnerables. Smiling every so often to showcase your politeness, your feet quickly carried you to the opposite end and eventually to a left turn.

Letting out a deep sigh, you were thankful for getting out of the mess in one piece. Just being in the place gets you to have flashbacks about previous experiences.

You slowed down your pace, making sure to not look any stranger than what already meets the eyes. . Unlike the previous district who was filled with energy, this place is quite tranquil considering it is a more major district of the capital.

Eyes constantly scanning the area, you felt yourself stopped at a particular parlour. Approaching the stall, you took your time admiring the items that were put on for sale.

Grazing over the various accessories, you smiled at how detailed the carvings are. Feeling your finger twitch at a certain ornament, you brought it closer for inspection. Hooking the look around your finger, you twirl it around to test its stability.

Not bad.

“ Owner, are there any other colors or designs for this?”

Clasping her hand in excitement, the owner hurriedly displayed the other designs available.

Eyes sparkling in interest, you inspect ones that caught your sight but couldn’t decide on which one to buy. Seeing your uncertainty, the owner said, “ If you don’t mind me asking but who is it you plan on giving it to?”

Looking up to look at her eyes that had started to droop from old age, you politely smiled. “ I am planning to buy it for a… a friend.”

Raising her eyebrows at your reply, the owner took a moment to look over at the collection, “ Is there anything in particular that stands out about them?”

“ … sunshine.”

Looking back and forth between you and the collection before she boldly handed you an ornament. Graciously accepting the ornament, you take a second to inspect the item.

“ This norigae* is sewn from one of the most popular materials this year. Even though the threads are sewn together, similar to a rope, it is very soft yet also extremely steady. The customer had said that your friend holds similarity to the sun so I thought that the golden color would suit them.”

Nodding at her observance, you happily accepted her advice. “ Thank you. I will take this one.”

Returning the ornament back to her, you looked down again at the accessories before spotting a few that had caught your eyes.

“ Owner, please also pack these up for me,” you said, pointing at a few items, “ Here is the money. Keep the change.”

Bowing at her in gratitude, you accepted the wooden box containing your goods before heading to the tea house. On the way, you once again tuck the box in your sleeves in case of any ill intentions roaming around.

Resuming your previous pace, you continue to scavenge around the district while on your way back to the tea house. Amidst the way, you noticed an inconsistent pattern of people that were accumulating in front of a store nearby, coincidentally blocking your path.

I must be aligned with crowds today, you sighed.

After standing in the same spot for a few moments, you begrudgingly put on a brave face and courageously walk toward the crowd, hoping to not be pulled to pieces.

Taking a deep breath at a particular hard jab, you desperately sucked in the warm, moist air around you, trying to not groan too loudly. Tightening your stomach in an attempt to make yourself seem smaller, you try your best to push through the crowd of people.

Hissing at a young lady that had bumped into you, stepping on your toe in the process, you suddenly found yourself stuck in the center, with no available escape route.

Sighing at your unfortunate situation, regretting your decision, you were suddenly aware of the admiring gazes that wee being pulled. Looking around in curiosity, you wondered why everyone was looking so intrigued … until you heard the strings of the gayageum* being plucked.

Ears on alert at the melody that was being played, you turned your head in the direction, your feet unconsciously headed towards the music until you were just behind a few other bypassers.

Once you had registered what was happening, your eyes widened in surprise at the main highlight of the performance.

Hoseok.

There he was, your Noble Consort, was at the center, seemingly carrying all the major parts of the piece, giving no care to the crowd that had surrounded him. Eyes closed, Hoseok let himself go and simply followed the flow of the music, in a complete trance where the only thing that existed was himself and the melody.

Robes fluttering along with his movement, Hoseok continue to move with th music, seemingly becoming one with the melody.

Speechless at the scene that is happening in front of you, you stared at his dancing figure in complete silence, completely forgetting where you are, too focus on Hoseok, himself. It also seemed that you were too involved in the performance that you, also gave no care to your surroundings.

Eyes staring at Hoseok, at his every movement— twirls, turns, and jumps, you engulfed yourself to enjoy the performance, deciding to put away your questions for later.

Slowly, one song after another ended yet Hoseok still kept dancing while you kept your eyes glued on him. No matter how many times you were pushed around, or the constant change in neighbours, you still remained in your spot only snapping out of your daze at a particular hard push.

Eyes glaring at the intruding figure, you shake your head to clear up your mind. Noticing at the slow change in melody indicating that the song was about to end, you looked at Hoseok one last time before turning around and returning to your tracks, this time making sure to not go off it.

At least I know I’m not the only one who’s late.

As you calmly walk through the street, the scene that had unfolded in front of your eyes kept coming back. Hoseok’s smooth yet sharp moves, soft yet powerful gestures, and how he managed to control the air around him made you more curious about him.

Who exactly are you?

Silently entering the tea house, you were too deep into your thought that you had even dismissed the greetings of the servants and instead just followed their lead to your previous spot.

“ Give me a serving of the sweets to go,” you mindless order.

Leaning back against the chair, you glanced down the window, searching for Hoseok’s incoming figure. However, you soon find out that he wasn’t going to come anytime soon. Even after receiving your sweets, Hoseok still did not come.

Placing the money down on the table, you grabbed the sweets and left the establishment and instead settled for the outside stairs to wait for him. Feeling your skin itch in agitation, you feel your anxiety increase as the minute goes by.

Where is he?

Feeling your mood getting increasingly worse, you accidentally growled at a man that accidentally touched you. Apologizing was a hazy memory when you were in this current state yet you still find yourself waiting, somehow not finding the need to go and find him yourself. However, in all of foolishness, Hoseok is bound to get at least a few of your lectures.

Finally, after the moon was halfway on its route, a familiar figure finally appeared. Letting out a breath that you didn’t know existed, you ruffled your hair in both relief and frustration; both emotions aiming at him.

“ Where have you been?”

Flinching at your cold tone, Hoseok couldn’t bring himself to look at you. Instead, he opted to look down at the floor, in shame.

“ Did you realize what time it is?” You asked, “ When did we agree to meet?”

Once again, you were met with absolute silence. At this time, most of the stores and parlours had closed with only a few lanterns available to illuminate the street.

However, unlike the calm and tranquil the cool night should bring you, you felt a wave of frustration engulf you. In the back of your mind, you thanked your abilities to heal the wounds in time. Because without it, the wound would have already reopened with how hard you were clenching your arm.

Aside from your blazing eyes and your tense grasp on your sword, Hoseok couldn’t find any other evidence of your anger. However, even without any evidence, he knew that you were letting out anything but positive energy.

“ Whatever, we’ll talk about this at a later date,” you said, drawing a shaky sigh before presenting your arm, “ Let’s go.”

Looking at your arm, Hoseok hesitantly holds onto it before letting himself be dragged by you.

The silence presented during your guys’ walk was what Hoseok had expected when he accepted your invitation. However, he also understood the reason for why such a tense sensation was presented and was not naturally there.

As you approached the palace gates, you let go of Hoseok’s hand, reaching into your sleeve to take out your hopae*. When the guard spotted your tag, he immediately opened the gate, letting you both in. Before going in, you reached over to Hoseok to entangle your hand with his, not saying anything at his surprised expression. Thankfully, Hoseok also followed the flow and didn’t comment on your actions.

During the way to the Noble Consort’s courtyard, an eunuch had run over, offering to help guide you but was answered by a denial. Instead, you took the lantern from his hands and dismissed him.

Once you both were finally in front of Hoseok’s courtyard, you finally let go of his hand. Hoseok, who was about to bow to you, stopped when he saw you reach into your sleeve, seemingly looking for something.

Unlatching the rope that had secured the box, you quickly took out the norigae that you previously brought. Throwing it over to Hoseok’s direction, you turned around and began to walk to your courtyard, not looking at his reaction.

“ A souvenir from me. If it’s not to your fancy, throw it away.”

Hastily catching the item that you had disposed into his hands, he confusingly looked at it before realizing what it was. Grazing over the norigae fondly, Hoseok carefully untangled the knots. Grasping the ornament tightly, he felt his lips turn upward at your gestures. Bringing it close to his chest, he looked at your disappearing figure, attentively.

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

Within the next month of the announcement, news of the arrival of the new consorts began to enter the palace, and eventually, reaching the court. The ministers and officials were overjoyed at the news, happy that they were still sending over the candidates despite your announcement.

Unlike others who were happy about the consorts’ arrival, Taehyung was still soured over the news, as well as your choice.

Despite Taehyung’s obvious disapproval, it was customary for you to at least spend a night with each consort in the first week, especially if they were from a different country.

On your first night of the three, you met your first choice from the piles of possible candidates.

Sato Chungho, was a righteous man who had an outstanding record and an ambition in politics. He was so intrigued by it that you had spent the entire night talking about the subject.

“ Politics, you say?” You asked curiously as you propped your chin on your hand.

Chungho enthusiastically nodded, eyes trained on your every movement. “ Yes, your majesty.”

You hummed, “ Why are you suddenly bringing this up?”

Looking down at his hands, Chungho fidgets with the fabric of his attire. “ I had heard that your majesty is well versed in this field. Since I have met you, I … I knew that love would never be able to blossom between the two of u—”

“ Why would you say that?” You interrupted, eyes peering down at him in interest.

“ You might not know this, your majesty but you have been a very popular topic in Shihoma. Previously, we all had known about how terrible the Corea’s monarch was but since your arrival, everyone couldn’t help but be intrigued by how you managed to take him down. More importantly, the way you handled this Consort Selection both showcases your dominance and how you’re not afraid to flaunt it. Many would have to think twice about doing this, especially for a country that has yet to establish a good reputation.”

“ Then wouldn’t my actions be considered to be reckless. If you think about it, won’t it be easy for other countries to fight ours since it’s so vulnerable right now?”

Chungho shakes his head, “ It would be unlikely because most people know that most of the soldiers had gone to your side before and during the rebellion. You didn’t lose that many soldiers so attacking you is not a minor matter.”

Raising your eyebrows at his answer, you nodded your head. “ Then what would you like?”

“ I would like…” Chungho gulped, “ to learn more about politics under you.”

A potential.

Cracking a smile at his uncertainty, you stand up from your seat. Waving your hands to signal him to come over, you invited, “ Come. Play a game of go with me.”

With that, Chungho giddily accepted your invitation and both of you found yourself spending the entire night indulged in all the games you had available.

On the second night, things turned out to be more interesting with the second consort.

“ Chin-Hae means the truth and a vast ocean, correct?” You had asked.

“ Yes, your majesty.”

“ And you’re a son of a merchant?”

“ Yes, your majesty.”

Scanning at him from top to the bottom, and bottom to top, you couldn’t decipher the unsettled feeling that is blooming within your chest. You have been caught up in many situations where there is a sense of familiarity despite being strangers. And this is one of those situations.

“ You look familiar.”

“ I am afraid that we have never meet until today,” he said, “ However, you might have find my demeanour similar to some of the envoys that are currently residing in the palace.”

“ … you’re from Xin May yet you behave like the Ecenyths, you must have travelled quite a bit.”

“ As a merchant’s child, I have started travelling since I could even remember. However, I did spent a reasonable amount of time in Ecenyth.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. “ Tell me the stories of the land you have visited.”

“ Where would you like to hear first, your majesty?”

“ … Xin May,” you decided, “ Tell me the culture, people, myths, legends. Anything of interest to your home country.”

Chin-Hae smiled, “ Yes, your majesty.”

As a result, you spent the entire night listening to the various stories from Chin-Hae; from the land’s culture to personal experiences and connection, Chin-Hae had told it in such an interesting manner that it captivated you every step of the way. He truly is a merchant.

I wonder if Seokjin is also good at storytelling.

On the third and final night, you were beyond exhausted with being deprived of sleep for two days straight and the constant piles that were presented on your desk. Thus, you didn’t have as much energy as usual and hoped that today will be like the other two.

Turns out, the third time was really the charm since it was completely different from the rest.

Entering your bedroom, you wanted nothing more than to fall onto the bed and travel to dreamland. Feet dragging your slouched body to the familiarity of your bed, you were suddenly hit with the realization of the slight change in the room’s placement.

Sobering up at the thought of an intrusion, you glared at every change in your normally simple chamber, feeling the irritation in you double. Aside from the difference in decor, the usual scent of lavender that would caress your skin was replaced with an overpowering scent of perfume. Feeling a headache reappearing, you sluggishly walked towards your bed only to be met with a big clump covered by a thin, transparent fabric.

The person must have noticed your speechless demeanour when they let out soft, high-pitched giggles. Normally, you would have define the noise as angelic but with your non-sobered state, fondness was not on top of the list.

Harshly grabbing the fabric, you forcefully tugged it off the figure and threw it to the floor. Looking into the bright yet hazy black orbs, you find yourself not knowing what to do.

“ Greetings to your majesty.”

Squinting your eyes in an attempt to find familiarity in the person in front to you but unable to do so, you find yourself speechless of what to say nor do. Suddenly, you realized that he was the one who you have chosen randomly, a person that you didn’t even bother knowing the name of.

Turning the other way, guiltily, you refused to look into the person’s eye, ashamed as what you did that day. However, the person seated on your bed took your action as an attempt to distance yourself away from him. As a result, he sneakily reach out his hand to touch your clenched ones.

Shivering at the chilling skin that had enveloped into your warmer ones, you looked at him, waiting to see what he would do.

As if knowing what you were hinting, the person took the opportunity to pull you to him, successfully setting you seated next to him.

Taking a deep breath, you could define the different fragrances that he was using.

Rose, with a light note of chamomile, citrus, lavender? No, what is it?    

Confused at what you were smelling, you didn’t notice the roaming hands that were venturing your body until it travelled to your thigh. In a moment of panic, you pushed him away from you, shocking him in the process.

“ You… what’s your name?”

Yet to recover from the sudden shove, the male hastily replied, “ P-park Jimin, your majesty.”

Awkwardly nodding at his answer, you make sure to raise your hands, signalling that you meant no harm. “ I apologize, Jimin-ssi. There was so much work that I seemed to forget your name,” you said, shuffling away.

You knew that lying was bad in this situation but you also knew that saying that he was chosen in a matter of luck was worse. In other terms, he was lucky to be picked and wasn’t picked based on his capabilities unlike the other two.

There’s no way that I’ll tell him that.

Once again, using the opening of you drifting off, Jimin approached you, hands delicately running up your legs, eyes glimmering with mischief and flirtatiousness.

Speechless at what he was doing, you could only stare as he continued to venture across the span of your skin. Gently prying his hands off you, you push Jimin away. This time, on alert for any of his upcoming initiatives.

“ So tell me about yourself,” you said, brushing off what had just happened.

Staring at you confusingly, Jimin’s finger twitches in agitation. “ Why are you doing this?”

“ What do you mean?” You asked, scrunching up your nose.

“ Why are you asking these questions when you already know the answer?” He asked, eyes hiding behind his bangs.

“ I apologize, it seems that I have offended you. These past few days have been so busy that I haven't had the time to go over your profile yet.”

“ You didn’t even have the time to look into me?” He murmured, eyes locked on the velvet sheets.

You waved your hand in a hurry, protesting. “ Of course not. I sincerely apologize. I truly didn’t have the time to do so.”

Part of it was true while the other wasn’t being told. Yes, you have been extremely busy that you didn’t have any spare time and would go to sleep straight away after you return to your courtyard. However, you also did pick Jimin randomly, thus not having the fresh opportunity to look at his portrait.

You were really regretting your decisions of following the ministers’ miscellaneous plans.

Picking his head up, you propped them on top of your hand, directly looking into his own. Seeing his stunned expression because of your initiatives was something unexpectedly amusing; plushed lips puckered out to form a pout, a crimson shade that is spreading along the span of his cheeks, and eyes widen in such a manner that you almost couldn’t stop yourself from cooing about his cuteness.

Regretting at not seeing his painted portrait, you wonder if the artist managed to capture his beauty.

Smiling gently at your gestures, Jimin blinks continuously to try and seduce you.

Smirking at his antiques, you followed whatever he was luring you into before trapping him under your body. Arms placed on either side of him, Jimin bravely looked at you, eyebrows raised in a suggestive manner.

Lowering yourself until you were barely above him, you whispered into his ear, “ What do you think you’re doing.”

Feeling an unfamiliar sensation blooming within his core, Jimin unhurriedly replied, “ Whatever your majesty wants to do, I will follow.”

Smirking at his response, you continue to tease him by grazing your finger lightly across his skin, similar to what he had done to you. Seeing him squirm at the feeling was definitely a sight to see; amidst your teasing, you could even see a slight change in demeanour for a moment before it was covered by the previous thin layer of lust.

How interesting.

“ Oh really?”

Shivering at the moisture of your breath, Jimin couldn’t help but anticipate what was about to happen. However, his fantasize was cut short when he was no longer pinned down, the previous pressure dissipating into the air.

Pulling away from Jimin, you turned around, starting to take off your robe. “ You may stay here if you wish. We can talk about whatever but nothing related to what we just did.”

“ … So you just wanted to tease me?”

Clenching your fist at his question, you shakily replied, “ I apologize. I… I wanted to find out something.”

Jimin bit his lip, eyes glaring at your back. “ And that gives you the need to tease me? You may be my master, your majesty. But I am still a human who has feelings.”

“ … I apologize.”

“ Apologies, apologies,” Jimin huffed out, “ If you don’t want me here then I will leave.”

Standing up, Jimin takes the fabric, previously thrown to the floor and wrapped it around himself. Walking past you, Jimin didn’t look at you and instead focused on the door. Pushing the doors open, Jimin was about to leave but was suddenly pulled back.

Gasping at the pulling force, Jimin staggered backwards into your chest. “ I did say that I would let you leave but I didn’t agree to you leaving while in such a foul mood.”

Now, against your chest, you and Jimin were at the same height, none towering over the other but within your presence, Jimin found himself cowering under your watchful eyes.

“ W-what do you want now?”

“ I want to apologize to you,” you said, “ What do you want me to do?”

Turning around to look into your eyes, Jimin undoubtedly could sense your genuinity. Still trapped in your embrace, Jimin took his time to think and weigh the possible outcomes.  

“ You would do whatever I say?”

“ If it’s reasonable, yes. I would do anything.”

Taking into consideration of your words, Jimin giddily thought up of various options. “ Then… give me jewelry as compensation.”

“ Jewelry? What do you want specifically?”

“ Anything that shows your favour in me. Things that would make people envy my position by your side.”

You nodded, agreeing with his terms. “ I will have something prepared for you by tomorrow and sent to your courtyard. For now…”

Looking over at your drawers, eyes sparkling up at the idea. Unlatching your arms around Jimin, you walked up to your drawers. Pulling a small drawer, you gingerly searched around before pulling a certain item out.

Returning to where you previously were, you gestured for him to turn around. You carefully placed the accessories against his skin, encasing the knot to secure the necklace in place. “ Keep this as a promise that I will fulfill my role.”

Grasping the pendant, Jimin looked over the design in awe before cracking a smile.

Seeing his smile, you commented, “ I see that you ar—“

“ Acceptable,” Jimin arrogantly said.

“ I’m glad,” you said, walking towards the table, pouring yourself a cup of tea, “ Let’s have a proper conversation now, shall we?”

Rolling his eyes at your comment, Jimin clenched the fabric wrapped around him before heading towards the table, taking a seat opposite of you.

“ Now, what can I know about you, Jimin-ssi.”

“ You don’t need to be that formal. Please call me Jimin.”

You smiled, “ Gladly.”

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

“ Now tell me about the Scavenge Disaster.”

Hastily going through the notes that he had memorized yesterday, Jungkook clumsily replied, “ The Scavenged Disaster was a breakout of droughts in the southern regions forcing many to go get refuge in other places?”

“ Continue.”

“ Mhmm.. the Sca—”

“ Say it with more confidence,” Taehyung interrupted.

Shooting him a glare, you scrunched up your eyebrows in frustration. Opening your mouth, you were about to say something when Taehyung continued to interrupt you.

“ How can you not remember the basics?” He degraded once he saw the hesitation that still lingered in Jungkook’s eyes.

Eyes widening at his words, you shouted, “ Royal Consort! Be careful with your words!”

Rolling his eyes at your word, Taehyung leaned back against his seat and focused on Jungkook, waving his hand for him to continue.

Shaking your head, you roughly slumped down into your seat, ignoring the stare that Jungkook was giving you.

Swallowing all the tension down, Jungkook went back to what he has been doing, now, even more agitated.

From the start of today’s lesson, the intensity of the air in the room was at an abnormal level. You all have noticed the change but no one put in the effort to address it.

“ When did this occur?”

“ Ten years before the previous dynasty ended.”

“ How old were you then?”

“ I was… ten at that time.”

“ I heard that you were constantly out of the palace,” you said, “ Must have been hard for you.” Nonchalantly looking down at the papers on the table, you didn’t caught Taehyung’s soured gaze.

“ Ten? You’re barely an adult now. Must have been a little brat,” Taehyung commented.

Sighing, you tiredly looked over at him, “ Brat? Look at you right now. You’re the brattiest yet.”

Taehyung scowled at your comment, “ Whatever. What has this lesson turned into? A personal bonding time for the two of you? Forget it, we’re done for today. I’m not in the mood for it.”

“ Jungkook you may go,” you dismissed him, letting out an exhausted sigh, and rubbed your tensed eyebrows. Seeing Taehyung also standing up, you were quick to confront him, “ You, dear Royal Consort, is staying until I tell you otherwise.”

Turning around, Taehyung looked at you with raised eyebrows, challenging you. “ You can’t control me.”

“ As long as I have the crown, there is nothing I can’t get my hands onto, including you.”

Huffing at your comment, Taehyung slumped down into his seat, not looking at you.

“ Why are you like this?” You asked, frustrated.

“ Why are you asking me? Ask yourself!” He yelled out, disbelief clearly adorned on his face.

“ What did I do?”

“ You took in three other consorts!”

“ I was forced to!”

“ You’re the owner of this land, no one can control you.” He said, using your comment as payback.

You chewed on your cheek at your words getting backfired. “ It's a minor problem, there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“ Minor problem? Sure it is. So incredibly small that it caused chaos in the imperial court, agitating all the ministers.”

“ If you’re worried about them interrupting ou—”

“ I don’t care about the plan. What if they fancy you!” He retorted, pouting at his own words.

Eyebrows raised at Taehyung’s tantrum, you unconsciously lean back to enjoy the show.

“ You’re worried that they will gain power if they have my favour?”

“ That too,” Taehyung muttered.

“ Don’t worry. Chung-ho and Chin-Hae aren’t in the mindset of settling down,” you reassured, “ Chung-ho is too busy with his interest in politics while Chin-Hae will be travelling.”

During your guys’ little talk, you had personally promised to give Chin-Hae the privilege to exit the palace at will in return for little souvenirs that he will bring back. This may sound immature but you have plans for those items.

“ You guys are on first-name-basis now? Whatever, whatever, whatever... Then what about the third one?” He asked.

You tilted your head confusingly, not able to hear what he just said. “ What did you say?”

Taehyung looked at you, eyes piercing into your own. “ I asked about the third one. Jimin was it?”

“ Jimin?” You pulled out, chewing on your head as you remember what had happened on your guys’ first meeting. “ I don’t know.”

Taehyung pouted, “ Then there is still a possibility!”

“ If you don’t trust my words then go see for yourself.”

At your words, Taehyung turned around and walked out. “ I will.”

I will see for myself what you all have.

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

A week later, Taehyung upholds his promise by arranging an informal afternoon tea meetup with the rest of the harem. He definitely needed to see how these consorts are faring.

Seated in the middle of the round table where every person that comes and goes is in his vision field, Taehyung patiently waited for all the guests to arrive.

Slowly, the Blue Pearl garden started to get crowded by people, surrounding the table situated under the gazebo.

On his left, seated the Imperial Consort, the only consort that he, the Royal Consort has to show some face to.

It is best said that the relationship between the Imperial Consort and himself is not the best but it’s also not the worst.

We just don’t align, is what he would like to say.

Maybe in another situation, he and the Imperial Consort can find a common ground but in a harem, he is barely able to keep it under his control without the interference of another party. As a result, if’s they can’t be acquaintances then being neutrals would do.

Naturally, the farther they are to the host, the inferior their status is, meaning that when those new consorts arrive, they will be on the opposite side of him. More specifically, facing him directly on this round table.

On his right, there sat the eldest Noble Consort, who was all too busy with looking at the surrounding to spare him no mind.

I must agree to what Y/N had said. Childlike yet witty.

Perking up at another incoming group, Taehyung smiled in greeting. “ Ah, Consort Sato, welcome. Take a seat next to Noble Consort Jung.”

Bowing down in greetings, Chungho smiled at Taehyung’s words. “ Greetings to the Royal Consort, Imperial Consort Min, and Noble Consort Jung,” he said before heading towards the seat next to Hoseok’s

At least this kid knows manners.

Taehyung smiled in satisfaction, “ Good. I like you.”

“ I’m honoured to be in your favour.”

“ The Consort Yang has arrived!” The eunuch outside announced.

Turning his attention towards the entrance, Taehyung gently nodded in greetings, already not liking the person with a tacky smile.

Unlike Chungho, who was dressed in the imperial hanbok, expected of a concubine’s status; and behaved in a way much like so. Chin-Hae, instead wore the clothes of his homeland, and put on a disgustingly confident smile.

Normally, Taehyung would have overlooked this as he is also interested in ways one can express themselves through fashion but when that person is his rival, he simply can’t overlook it.

Like understanding what he was trying to convey, a maid by his side stood up. “ Consort Wang sure is unique.”

Instead of being offended, Chin-Hae beamed at her words.

Seeing his expression, Taehyung also smiled in amusement. “ Take a seat, Consort Yang.”

Interesting.

“ I heard that Xin May is a really energetic country.”

“ The epicenter for festivals and entertainment,” Taehyung piped in, casually.

“ It really is. I would say that I am forced to attend at least a dozen festivals every year. And that doesn’t even account to the ones specific to each region.”

Eyes widening in surprise, Hoseok leaned forward in curiosity. “ That must really be eventful.”

“ Sounds like you were busy.”

“ I really wasn’t. Besides, I would trade time for the smallest chance of getting to attend. Unfortunately, my father is trying to train me to inherit the business. Days fill with work and politics is too much for me to cope, however...” Chin-Hae denied, sighing at the thought of the constant work piles.

Blinking at his words, Hoseok commented, “ Right, I heard that Consort Sato is interested in politics from your majesty. Is it true?”

Looking up from his hands, Consort Sato bashfully nodded. “ I have been interested in politics since childhood but was never allowed to have any information on it.”

“ You enjoy politics? Such a unique hobby.”

Taehyung opened his mouth, preparing to say something when he was suddenly interrupted with an announcement.

“ Consort Park has arrived!”

Raising his eyebrows at the incoming figure, Taehyung propped his head on top of his hand.

Now, this is a sight to see.

Compared to the rest, Jimin’s attire was overly done. From the expensive materials that were used, to the intricate designs that were sew onto the fabric, one could definitely tell that he was born noble.

With every step, the bells of his bracelet could be heard jingling as Jimin draws closer to the gazebo. Putting on a confident smile, Jimin did a slight bow in greetings, hands clasped over his chest.

“ Consort Park certainly is prepared,” Chin-Hae commented, astonished at his attire.

“ I thank the Consort Yang for the compliment.”

Taehyung bitterly smiled at the act, feeling his slowly adrenaline rise.

“ Please take a seat, Consort Park. The sun is already in its third quarter and the event has yet to start. Without any further interrupti—”

“ Apologies, apologies, Royal Consort. I had to do some work and forgot the time. I didn’t miss out on anything major, did I?” A booming voice exclaimed, racing from the entrance to where they were.

Taehyung scowled at the familiar voice, eyes glaring at the rushed figure.

“ Merchant of the South,” Hoseok greeted.

Like who Hoseok had said, the steps of Seokjin grew closer to the gazebo, face brightened up at the sight in front of him. Stopping meters away from the entrance, Seokjin bent down to a bow in greeting. “ Greetings to the Consorts.”

“ I was not aware that you were invited.”

“ Apologies, I immediately rushed over the moment I heard that you were holding tea time.”

You knew that you were not invited and yet…, Taehyung rolled mentally rolled his eyes before looking to the side, silently motioning for the arrangements to be done.

Nodding at his signal, the person focused on the preparations, no longer caring at the stares he was receiving.

“ Seems like you knew that you were not invited,” Yoongi straightforwardly pointed out, “ Why are you here then?”

Motioning the maid to go get another chair, Hoseok added, “ Are you here to greet the new consorts?”

“ Partially. I was getting curious at the uprising of the new trio and wanted to go see for myself.”

Unlike others, Jimin reacted at the comment by clenching his jaded fist. Staring like I’m an animal, how daring.

Looking around, Jimin noticed how no one was fazed by Seokjin’s words, secretly stunned at how nonchalantly all of them are until his eyes met with Yoongi’s. Flusteredly looking away, Jimin made a move to smooth out his attire, fidgeting with the fabric along the way.

“ Apologies, only those who have been given permission to attend can do so,” Taehyung's eyes narrowed Seokjin’s figure, “ Besides, I believe the envoy has much better things to attend to than some measly tea event.”

The merchant shook his head in disapproval, “ Attending this event is also part of my duties. The emperor has specifically ordered me to visit the consorts frequently to build a better relationship with them… Also, it had seemed that I was not the only one that came without being invited.” After that, Seokjin’s eyes automatically set its attention on the person behind the table of herbs.

The host smiled, grabbing his wooden fan on the table before flicking it open, gently oscillating it, “ Hmm?... Ah, care to answer that by yourself?”

Setting down the equipment, Namjoon unhurriedly waited for all the boiled water to drain from the pot before gently placing it on the tray. Motioning the maids to bring it, Namjoon made his way to the centre table, smiling all the way. Stopping a couple of steps behind Taehyung, Namjoon clasped his left hand over his right and bowed, “ I apologize for not greeting you, Consorts… Envoy of Ecenyth. Thanks to the Royal Consort, I have the honour of concocting all the drinks that will be served.”

Scanning up and down, Jimin observed Namjoon’s manners, picking up the Royal Consort’s obvious favour towards him. So he is on his side, or maybe… Jimin smiled at the thought which skillfully got hidden by a tea cup placed in front of him.

“ Concocting? Sounds like this will have many benefits.”

“ Of course, Noble Consort Jung. It wouldn’t be right of me to not prepare a nutritious drink,” Namjoon explained.

Hoseok only smiled but made no attempt to reach out for the cup. “ Please sit down, envoy. Why not have a cup of tea while you are here?” He offered once he realized Seokjin was still standing.

Smiling gratefully, Seokjin quietly slipped on to the seat that was just delivered.

Scanning around, Taehyung noted how not a single person had consumed the tea. “ Why aren’t you tasting it? This variety is quite fragrant and won’t be as nutritious if taken cold,” Taehyung commented, letting out a teasing smile, “ Perhaps you all are afraid that it is poisoned?”

Feeling the people around him tensed at his blunt words, Taehyung picked up his own cup before taking a sip from it, flipping it over to show he had finished it. “ See? Now, drink up.”

Sighing at Taehyung’s words, Yoongi deadpanned at how appetizing and easy it was to step into his trap. How annoying, he thought, glancing at Namjoon before staring into his own. Yoongi gracefully lifted the cup to his nasal, taking in a whiff of its scent. Placing the porcelain edge against his lips, Yoongi carefully took a sip. “ Not poisoned.”

Making eye contact with Hoseok, Yoongi subtly nodded, confirming what he previously said was true. Relying on his words, Hoseok also took a sip and smiled at the pleasant taste. “ Such a smooth taste.”

Taehyung smiled, at least we work considerably well together.

“ I’m glad that this tea has satisfied you.”

“ Move on to the next course,” Taehyung ordered, “ I hope you all haven’t ate anything today.”

At his command, the surrounding servants were put to work. Skilfully replacing the dishes placed on the tables with new ones, one can see the obvious change in style.

“ The decorations have changed,” Chin-Hae commented, looking at the sight in front of him in amazement.

Giggling at his comment, Taehyung nodded. “ Of course. Now that we are waiting on the next course, allow me to explain today's concept,” taehyung started, picking up the previous course’s cup, “ With each change in course, a new course will be bestowed based on a designated season. The previous was spring, this time will be summer, eventually becoming autumn and winter.”

Eyes sparkling at Taehyung’s voice, Jimin couldn’t help but clasp an exaggerated gesture over his petite face in awe. “ Such consideration the Royal Consort has put in.”

Taehyung nodded his head in gratitude, continuing to swing his fan back and forth.

“ Unlike spring, summer is considerably heavier so the Royal Consort has highlighted the use of fruits?” Hoseok asked.

“ Correct. Do you know the reason why?”

“ Because summer has the largest spectrum in terms of fruits.”

Snorting at his words, Taehyung said, “ Of course, envoy. However, aside from the taste, there is another factor to why I have put it here.”

“ Why?” Chungho asked, curious.

“ It’s because fresh fruits symbolises vitality, youth, abundance… and fertility,” Taehyung smiled. “Either way, isn’t it the perfect description of the Nurturing Solstice?”

Blushing at the Royal Consort’s indications, Jimin couldn't help but wonder what his life will now be like.

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

“ They were talking about the Nurturing Solstice?” You asked, “ Taehyung must have had a fun time.”

Compared to the past, the current Nurturing solstice is quite watered down. Previously, the Nurturing Solstice did not only mark the start of a new harvest season but also the start of something more humanly— something more mature.

“ Yes, the new consorts were blushing at the Royal Consort’s openness.”

“ Let him have his fun. Cooping up in the palace isn’t good for anyone,” you said, “ Right, make sure to keep an eye on the new consorts, especially Chin-Hae.”

Clenching his hands, Chin-Hwa clumsily bowed at you tonal command, “ yes, your majesty.”

Glancing at his posture from your spot, you observed how uncomposed he became. Sighing, you leaned against the window frame, gazing out of the window. “ The sky is darkening.”

“ Yes, you majesty. It is estimated that the storm will go on for at least three days.”

You hummed at his reply, “ As expected… an abrupt change is about to occur.”

Tilting his head at your sudden comment, Chin-Hwa shot you a confused glance.

Dismissing his stare, you continue to stare at the sky.

It’s just that I don’t know how though.

~MintVender ( 19/05/21 )

Definitions:

Norigae - a traditional korean accessory that is usually hung at the waist at a person. It acts as a fashion item as well as a good-luck charm to bring youth and wealth to the person.

Gayageum -  a Korean board zieuter, with 12 silk strings, and 12 movable bridges. Made from paulownia wood, he zither is about 160cm(62 inches) long and 30cm(12 inches) wide.

Hopae - an identification tag that carries the bearer’s name, place of birth, status, residence during the Joseon dynasty.

[ashleyswrittenwords]

Ballad of Bounty Hunters & Outlaws

Wild West LOZ AU

I’m slowing down one of my AUs and apparently moving onto another one already. Will I make a bunch of disjointed oneshots and inevitably put them on ao3? Yeah, probably.

I stole this AU from @kajuelle :)

------------

There was a moment where Zelda had thought of herself as smart.

A bright mind that was intelligent enough to memorize his routine from hearing alone. Within a week, she had fine-tuned the man’s schedule down to the minute. She supposed it was odd that he waited a half hour before dawn to relieve himself, even stranger that it sometimes came down to the minute until she heard the sound of scraping boots against wood as he brought himself to a stand outside her inn room’s door. A slight grunt when he stretched and then clicking spurs down the hall.

But she wasn’t about to complain. That morning was the perfect opportunity.

The outhouse was the opposite direction from the stables and her execution was flawless.

Now that confidence was a well running dry very quickly. Zelda’s fervent kicks to her horse’s ribs did little to recover the distance her pursuers were stealing. Panic led her to do things that blue-eyed hick will kill her over; among those reasons was the clear indecision in her steering, causing her fright to bleed over to the horse. That only led to Zelda frantically glancing over her shoulder to see a barrel pointing right at her.

She opened her mouth to scream but it stuck in her throat as her body went airborne.

The ground met her quickly and she rolled several times before coming to a stop. Coming to her knees was an athletic feat, the Earth refused to stay still and by the time she achieved it a short nudge of a boot toppled her back to the dirt.

“Well, ain’t that a cryin’ shame,” a monotone voice talked down to her. She knew who it was from the saloon the night before. Link had directed her away rather quickly under the pretense that they hadn’t been seen, but evidently he was wrong. The eye-patched man didn’t look remotely as forlorn as his words were. “Was sorta hopin’ you’d give us a better chase there, missy.”

That woman with him was suddenly flanking her with a constantly swiveling head as if she has a crick in her neck.

“Come on, Lead. Let’s just-let’s just get it over with real quick like.”

Then Zelda realized she was loading her sawed-off shotgun when it clicked loudly into place.

“He wants her kickin’. That’s the whole reason I came with you because I knew you’d conveniently forget.”

“You shoulda sent Scout, then!” the woman glowered, raising and dropping her hands with an irate speed.

Lead shot her a glare. “Scout woulda fucked it up someway somehow,” he motioned towards Zelda with an empty hand, already walking away to gather the horses. “’sides he should be at the station right now. Load ‘er up and let’s get out of here before we lose daylight.”

Zelda tried kicking the bandit’s hands off her, but her grip on her ankle was like steel.

“Get the fuck off of me!”

“Oh my, little miss princess has got a mouth on her,” she drawled with a lazy grin until it steeply dropped, “She better shut that shit real quick before I lose my patience.”

Zelda shouted obscenities at the woman when her foot alone flipped her over and pressed sharply down on her spine as she untangled some rope. The binds dug brutally into the thin skin of Zelda’s wrists no matter how she thrashed.

Regret bit heavily, especially when the reality of her fall was found in dull aches that were only worsening as the adrenaline ebbed away. Neither of the bounty hunteres were answering her screaming questions until eventually a bandana was forcefully stuffed into her mouth.

She fucked up. Royally.

The woman cackled with something wedged between her teeth.

“Your daddy’s bout to be a sorry sonovabitch.”

The man named Lead busied himself with a lighter, attempts digging himself further into frustration before the clean cut of gunfire sent his hat to his feet. It fluttered to the ground, just at Zelda’s eyelevel.

“Shit,” he hissed, ducking to the dilapidated fence that had stopped Zelda’s horse minutes earlier. “Shit, shit, shit – Turette get down!”

Turette paused mid-tie to pop her head above the horse’s flank. Another shot rang out, promptly spooking it. Once the animal had dashed off, Turette man-handled Zelda into a stand only to push her behind the barrier Lead was at. Green eyes widened as the world turned side-ways once more with the slight glimpse of a galloping horse closing in on them.

Her captors were already positioned with their backs to the rotting wood. The wild look in Turette’s eyes was a stark contrast to Lead’s darkened expression – she seemed almost excited while he bit down on his back molars and twisted around to steady his rifle’s sight. The man barely reeled back from the recoil, flinching quickly when the reaction was splintering wood just above Zelda’s head.

Suddenly, Lead shouted, “Did you tip him off?!”

Turette balked, “Why’re you asking me that? Ask her!”

Both pairs of eyes met Zelda with a ferocity. There was nothing she could say because it was impossible that whoever was on the other end of the gunfight was an ally of hers. Zelda had very few and the ones she trusted had no knowledge of her whereabouts. Perhaps if she hadn’t gone out of her way to abandon the man her father hired to protect her, she wouldn’t be in this position. But he was miles from here and with Zelda’s careful escape there was nothing to go off in finding her.

Zelda aggressively shrugged her shoulders and tried her best to mirror their anger. She didn’t owe them a damn thing.

The distant sounds of a horse weren’t so far off now. Its galloping had slowed to an abrupt stop. Lead and Turette shared a glance as the rider dismounted, noisily making a show of patting his panting horse.

“I knew you two were a cowardly lot, but couldn’t we have done this a little closer to town?”

The lazy arrogance made Zelda jolt. Turette locked eyes with her quickly and the click of a decision was made. If not for the gag, she would have gasped at how roughly the woman brought her to a stand. The cold double barrel of a shotgun pressed painfully underneath Zelda’s chin, forcing her head to tilt back.

Another gun was trained on them only a few feet away, except now Link let his aim droop. A red bandana was tied just above his nose to keep the dust at bay. The eyes just under the brim of his hat narrowed.

“I wouldn’t be so liberal with that gun there if I were you, sharp-shooter,” Turette spat, increasing her grip on Zelda for emphasis. “Unless the missus doesn’t need ‘er neck.”

Slowly, he let the revolver fall to his side and a quick yank to the bandana revealed an easy smile.

“Let’s not be too hasty, now,” he spoke gently. “We’re sensible folk. Seems to me that you’ve got something I want and I’ve got something you want.”

With his rifle at his side, Lead positioned himself beside them.

“Mister Lincoln, you know the only thing I want is your body in a bag.”

Link nodded as if that were gospel truth.

“Yeah, well, ya have to understand why I can’t make follow through with that. I was thinkin’ along the lines of what you don’t want,” he gestured at Zelda, “That’s Bosphoramus’s girl. His only little girl. I highly doubt that your attempts at getting to me is worth that old man’s anger.”

Turette cackled and in a sing song voice cut in, “Oh, Link! You really don’t think we know that? It don’t matter who her daddy is, what matters is the pretty penny on her head.”

A piercing glare from Lead cut her laughter short. Link traded his sights on them, the smile wiped completely.

“Who’s got a contract out for her?”

Neither of them resigned to answer, at least not immediately.

He repeated himself more pointedly, “Lead, who called in a contract for Zelda Bosphoramus?”

“It’s a private contract and I don’t think you’re in the position to be making demands like that, outlaw.”

Lead gripped Zelda’s forearm and ripped her away from Turette.

“Make a move and she gets it,” he demanded, already pushing Zelda towards the remaining horse. She yelped against the gag, almost tripping on air. Lead motioned to Turette. “Disarm him and take his horse. The train leaves in less than an hour.”

Zelda resisted but he was stronger than Turette, basically lifting her from the ground. She let out a muffled scream and desperately writhed against his grip on her. Over his shoulder, she watched as Turette reached for his pistol only for Link to twist the weapon around and thwack it across her crown.

She let out a strangled noise, hands scrambling to console the pain bursting from her bleeding head. Link pushed her aside.

Lead hadn’t turned around by the time Link pressed the gun to his temple. The movements were so swift that she hadn’t seen his forearm wrap around the bounty hunter’s neck to drag him down to Link’s height.

“Come on, you know what to do,” Link murmured.

Anger boiled red in Lead’s face, but he did as was told and dropped his arms. Zelda’s feet met the ground, off kilter and stumbling. Turette was still crying out behind them with her shotgun buried in the dirt.

“Now,” Link sneered, spinning Lead around to talk to both bounty hunters. “I’m gonna give y’all the opportunity to get the fuck out of here on two conditions: take that ‘private contact’ off the board and tell whoever put it up that he answers to me.”

The rifle skidded across the dirt. Turette was manically nodding and stumbled to Lead’s horse with bloody hands. The other simply glowered when Link pushed him away, persuaded only by the barrel trained on him.

“You’re scum.”

“Goes both ways, Guardian.”

They left without much fanfare. Link kept his eyes on them until the distance was to his satisfaction. Zelda had taken a seat staring at the ground, hands to bound tightly when he turned to her. She’d seen him angry before, but nothing was schooled in his expression now. He breathed in loudly and took his hat from his head to rake a hand through his hair.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!”

Every word was emphasized as if it were a question that had been on his mind for hours.

Zelda winced as he cut the rope and unthreaded it from her wrists.

“You’re damn lucky I busted that door down,” he exasperated with a shaking head. “You better thank your lucky stars and Hylia Herself that I even thought to check in on you! I knew it was strange that you were so tired all week. I knew something was up, but I still gave you the benefit of the doubt. You might hate me plenty but those people don’t give a damn about your well-being. Why, I’m surprised you aren’t in a ditch by now.”

He rounded her and crouched to remove to gag, but Zelda had beaten him. She couldn’t pinpoint when her eyes betrayed her. Her vision went watery, but it was too late to hide it. Link had stilled, his mouth open to berate her further yet nothing came out.

“I’m sorry!” she shouted, her voice fragmented. Her brow knitted, both from his provocation and the shock of almost dying. A gun had been to her neck. Zelda had seen the insanity in that woman’s eyes, the excitement to see violence from a loaded gun. She had felt that.

She repeated the apology and curled up into herself. Link was obviously hesitant to do anything. Neither of them could recall a moment where she apologized to him for anything. There was no amount of guilt that could have made her regret her attempts to drive him away. Zelda’s cruelty had simply been a means to an end until now.

Despite her ugly sniffling, he didn’t walk away. Link sat beside her, occasionally placing his hand on her back or brushing strands of escaped hair from her face. Even after she collected what was left of herself, he said very little and deigned only to guide her onto Epona’s saddle. The rest of the ride consisted of collecting her spooked mount and traveling back to the inn.

Much of their silence consisted of an amalgamation of thoughts about how Zelda Bosphoramus might actually need that blue-eyed hick.

[yan-twst]

what about dorm leaders hcs for a s/o that is really laid-back and don't really care about classes and school but is actually really smart and mischievous and usually just use her smarts to prank and making the life of other students a freaking hell

riddle rosehearts

he loves his darling, but god, they drive him insane. he’s gonna start going grey at the fresh age of 17 if they keep this on-

listen!! riddle is all about the rules and scholarly excellence; the complete antithesis to his darling!! well, they do say opposites attract...

he’s always gonna be trying to kindle his beloved’s interest in school; despite not being a fan of their little pranks, he can tell they’re way smarter and skilled than they let on

gah!! he just wishes they’d put that skill into school, not their pranks!!

because they’re his darling, he miiight turn a blind eye to minor rule violations; as much as he thinks rules are absolute, he doesn’t want to be in his darling’s case all the time...

... unless they prank him. then yeah, no, it’s off with their head and he’s gonna drag them for a long lecture and a study session so they can think about what they did

he does think some pranks are very funny, especially the more elaborate ones- he’d specially love to see floyd get pranked, because he’s tired of being called goldfish!

... no, but he really wants his darling to do better in school. seeing that they’re natural pranksters, he’ll try his best to find another way to direct their mischievous energy towards studying!

leona kingscholar

leona, too, is a laid back, highly smart and skilled individual who has near failing grades in most classes because he simply cannot be damned to care about them- so in that sense, he really has no reason to tell his darling to put in any effort. hey, he isn’t a hypocrite!

while he prefers to spend his precious “wasting school time” time sleeping, his darling prefers to spend that time setting up elaborate pranks; he can, respect that, too, even if he doesn’t understand it

in leona’s mind, if anyone falls for the pranks, that’s their mistake. they walked right into the trap, their loss! he’ll do nothing to help the victims of his beloved’s traps, instead maybe even chuckling at them

of course it’s not nearly as funny when he is he victim of the prank. nope, his darling certainly won’t do that again: watching him growl and turn the bucket of water that had fallen on his head to sand had been enough of a message to find other targets

these two are every teacher’s biggest frustration; so smart, so full of potential, but.... just no drive to put said effort into classes... but maybe it’s leona’s darling who’s a bigger headache to the teachers; after all, leona just fucks off to nap, while his beloved isn’t above setting a prank for their dearest professor to run into

azul ashengrotto

well, he has to hand it to them; they’re mighty good at putting their brain to use when it comes to pranking others, even if their grades make them look like a careless student

he’s shocked to learn his darling has a reputation nearly as negative as his; until he sees just how much effort they put into making others’ lives misserable with their pranks. well, that’s certainly dedication, he can respect that

a prank is a very elaborate way to fool someone; setting their expectations in a way that doesn’t feel suspicious, subverting said expectation in a way that’s detrimental or even harmful to them but hilarious to the viewers, and making sure they don’t know they’re being fooled until it’s too late to stop it. in a sense, it’s a bit like his contracts

he... will ask to not get pranked. just right out, face to face ask his darling not to. he promises he’ll help wherever he can for their pranks- he just really, really doesn’t want to be a victim of one

like leona, he’ll laugh at those who fall for his beloved’s traps; their loss, their fault! though he can’t blame them: his darling is awfully crafty, and the way they set up pranks is almost unavoidable

kalim al-asim

while kalim is all for little pranks that make everyone laugh, he’s a little... horrified, by the magnitude of his darling’s pranks? like, they’re making people downright miserable- is that, um, something they wanted...?

on god his darling is gonna have to change their methods- because making others’ lives a living hell might be fun, but it makes kalim sad, and it’s just inhumane to make him sad

kalim is a bit surprised that his darling is so bright but just chooses to not apply that to school- hey, if he had that kinda brain, he’d be out there acing all his tests!! he knows they don’t care for school, but knowing they’re so bright, he might ask them for a tutoring session or two...

if he thinks whatever prank his darling is cooking up is relatively harmless, he might join in! he finds it fun, but only as long as it isn’t something that goes too far

vil schoenheit

oh, absolutely not. no, no! vil has to put in so much effort, not only on his appearance, but also to do well in school and keep his magic and brewing skills sharp; his darling just, can’t go and waste their smarts like that...!

it clearly drives him a little nuts, and he’s more than ready at any moment to remind his beloved that if they just apply themselves to school they could rise above- but he’s quick to realize that’s just something that doesn’t interest them

well... if being a prankster is what they want, then maybe he can’t criticize them for putting in the rare effort they do show into it, but...

pranks are just not allowed in his dorm- he makes that very, very clear. he works hard to make all the pomefiore students strive for the best, and a prank that may end up in ruined hair or outfits is... agh, no, he can’t even think of it!

people will seriously wonder how the hell he and his darling got together. vil is known for being harsh on laid back people or slackers, and it’s not like he’s a fan of pranksters, and yet somehow he fell for exactly that

still, vil won’t give up on trying to make his darling better themselves! if being a prankster is truly what they want, then they can at least prank people while looking flawless, right?

idia shroud

well, he doesn’t think much of the fact his darling doesn’t put in much effort into classes- he knows they’re smart, so does it really matter if they don’t care to stay awake during trein’s class?

idia thinks their pranks are hilarious. he has no problem hacking into the cctv to witness someone get owned by an ultra elaborate prank his darling set up; yup, this is peak entertainment

because he rarely leaves his room, it’s hard to set any serious pranks on him (besides, if ortho saw idia’s darling setting up a prank, they’d have to tell ortho they were gonna prank his beloved big bro and there’s no way they’re gonna hurt the little kid’s heart like that)

he likes having a laid back partner; it’s nice to just chill in his room, while he plays videogames and they do whatever

hell, he might even throw ideas for pranks- if there’s any gadget that could make them more interesting, he’d probably be all in to help. just- just don’t say he was in on it! he’d be terrified of angry students coming to knock on his door after a prank...

malleus draconia

malleus had simply assumed his beloved didn’t care for school- he’s surprised to see they’re actually highly capable (probably enough so to rival top students like azul or riddle), but simply... don’t care to apply that to academics?

well, if it’s on terms of pranks, while not being pranked often himself, lilia is the prankster of the dorm. he’s witnessed the ancient being pull a fast one on sebek more times than he can count

... oh, but his darling’s pranks aren’t like that, he notices. lilia usually takes advantage of sebek’s naivety to tell him wacky things that the green haired first year will believe without question to create hilarious antics- but, no, that’s too simple for his darling, isn’t it?

he finds their elaborate pranks supremely entertaining. what a large amount of effort to put into something with the goal to make someone else’s day a bit more confusing and terrible- my, is his beloved a little villainous? he likes that!

he’s not worried about being pranking: he firmly believes he’d be able to notice beforehand, which probably just eggs on his darling to try and pull off a prank on him... and they will succeed on this, leaving a supremely shocked malleus (and causing silver and sebek to chase after them for their actions)

[uarcana]

Let Me See You

Trying to get back into My Hero writing and decided to start off the return with some nice Aizawa x OC romance.

Warnings: NSFW - nudity, masturbation, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 7,457

OC’s: Aoi Tamahagane (Gunmetal)

With a sharp gasp, Aoi was startled awake by a loud crash of thunder.

However, it was barely raining so she was confused.

Laying up in bed, Aoi looked toward the window to see the little droplets cascade down the glass. Catching her breath.

She jumped once again to a loud banging upon her front door.

“Shit”, she exclaimed to herself in a breath as she got out of bed.

So, THAT’S what it was.

Pulling a large t-shirt over her head, covering her mostly naked body, she made her way to the door. Peering through the peephole.

In the darkness and the rain, she could barely make out who was there.

Fear overcame her mind. Could it be one of them? How could they possibly have found her?

She began to tiptoe toward the kitchen to retrieve her cellular. She figured it would be best to try calling the police rather than draw any unnecessary attention to herself.

“Aoi...”.

A low and familiar voice, filled with fatigue and exhaustion passed from behind her door. The woman halted in her tracks before quickly turning around.

The woman quickly opened the door, the lock stopping it.

“Oh, my G-“, she gasped before quickly shutting and unlocking the door, swinging it open.

“Shota! What’re you-“.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Oh, save it!”

Aoi frantically pulled the man in before he could ever get a word out.

“Are you crazy?!”

Quickly shutting and locking her door, Aoi made her way to the drenched young man, frantically moving his hair from his face and feeling the temperature of his soaked flesh.

He was freezing, but he felt warm.

“What in the hell were you doing out there in this weather? You could’ve caught something!”

“I didn’t have enough money for an umbrella...”, Aizawa explained as he was being examined.

“Goodness...”, the woman shook her head in disapproval, her touch a lot more gentle and less panicked.

Feeling his neck and upper chest. Her delicate fingers lightly gliding over his flesh and toned pectorals.

If anything, it soothed him...warming his frozen body. His nerves tingling against her fingertips. Stimulating his lower region, the more they fluttered.

“Anyway”, Aizawa cleared his throat as he quickly took hold of her hands, “I was only hoping that I could use your phone to call a taxi”.

Looking in every direction, but her beautiful concerned gaze.

“Mine, um...got wet”.

“Wh-what?! No!”, Aoi’s voice cracked as she shook her head. “No! You’re not going back out there! Are you trying to catch something?”

Pulling from his grasp, she scoffed at his idea before storming toward a separate room. “Of all the half-baked macho man bullshit I’ve ever heard, I swear”.

“Aoi, this is completely irrational-“, Aizawa tried to reason with her while she rambled in irritation to herself, but was immediately distracted by the view of her porcelain thighs and navy lace wrapped lower ass cheeks, that her shirt didn’t quite cover, bouncing as she raged through the house.

“It’s like they don’t think ever! Become a pro hero and all logic somehow goes out the door. Unbelievable”, she continued to mutter as she slammed a laundry basket at his feet before storming off once again, still muttering angrily.

Not giving the man the possibility at a chance to stop her, ultimately catching another view of her jiggling rear end.

The dark lace complimenting her flawless skin and their hard strut pushing the fabric deeper into the tight crack, spreading her cheeks just ever so slightly.

Aizawa found himself lightly suck his lower lip as he desperately tried to look away.

Realizing he has actually been holding his breath, once she was out of view, Aizawa exhaled deeply trying to find something to occupy himself with to lower his rising heat.

But suddenly startled by the found of her bare feet slapping against the hard wood floors.

“Pfft, what? Sick? Me? Nah, man, I’ve got a sleeping bag”, she sarcastically mocked, forcing a small smirk and a light chuckle from the man before he had a towel and a bundle of clothes being thrown into the basket.

Examining it, he looked up at the frustrated woman. Eyebrow raised in confusion.

“W-what’s this?”

“They’re dry clothes”, she retorted with light sass, arms crossed before yanking her arm from its holster pointing to toward the opposite end of the house. “Bathroom’s down the hall to the right. Put your wet clothes in here”, she instructed lifting the basket into his chest.

“I’ll have food cooked and the couch ready by the time you’re done”.

Aizawa just stared at her in silence and blinked.

“You’re staying here tonight. Wherever you’re trying to run off to will be there in the morning”, she rolled her eyes in annoyance. “For now, would it kill you to just chill?”

Aizawa didn’t have anything to say. Everything happened so fast, he wasn’t sure whether to thank her or oppose or what.

With a shake of her head, Aoi just smirked.

“Don’t bust an artery trying to think of something to say. You’re not getting out of this, so get over it”, she lightly smiled, sending a small rosy flame to Aizawa’s cheeks.

“Well...thanks”, the man finally spoke, rubbing the back of his neck in light embarrassment, “I appreciate it”.

“Yeah, don’t mention it”, she replied over her shoulder as she waved him off, “get going. You smell like a gutter”.

With a light smile, Aizawa watched her retreat to another room with a light sigh. Her body gleaming in the moonlight.

Seemingly alone now, he finally took his leave to the bathroom.

Aoi holding onto her flushed bosom for dear life just out of view.

“Fuck...”.

The rain crashing against the glass.

Or the water from the shower landing against the linoleum.

Aizawa wasn’t sure which one he was hearing...it didn’t matter.

His thoughts were much louder.

His forearm against the shower wall as the water fell over his thick black hair.

Dripping down his lean muscular build.

He stood in silence. Staring at his feet.

Trying to force himself to see the truth of what this really was.

They were rivals. Had been since childhood. She hated him for the longest time.

What real reason would she have to accept him now?

And yet, here he was.

Using her shower...after he stupidly forgot to check the weather before falling asleep.

So much worry in her eyes.

She actually seemed panicked for a moment.

Afraid that he had possibly gotten sick.

Her fingers coursing all over his neck and chest...feeling for any sign that he may have caught anything.

They were so gentle and soft. It tickled his nerve endings. Tied his stomach in knots.

Filled his entire body with static.

Such pleasant jolts of electricity through her dainty fingertips...attached to such delicate hands.

How could someone so strong be so graceful with their touch? It wasn’t rational. It drove him insane.

How could a body made of titanium glisten like a pearl?

Aizawa remembers how she nearly crushed him during the Sports Festival with a mere heel to the pavement.

Destroyed the entire platform...

How could they look so soft? As if they don’t have the potential to put craters in the Earth.

Yet...they resembled fresh marshmallow clouds. Plush and smooth...

He wondered what they would feel like in his hands...how warm they’d feel against his stubbled cheeks as he tasted the most forbidden fruit that hid behind them...

Was it just as smooth as the rest of her? Silk textured...

The thought made his mouth water like a starved man in a desert.

What would she sound like?

Her voice was like velvet...low and sensual. Every word she spoke slipped from her lips like rose petals drifting through a shallow breeze.

What would ecstasy sound like from those deliciously luscious lips?

Was it submissive? Was it a sinful animalistic longing? Would she submit to punishment

as he marked her perfect porcelain ass with his teeth? Or would she ravage him like a lioness would her helpless prey and suck him dry?

These thoughts were so much more than Aizawa could handle as he felt tension build in his lower region.

The pain of its unsatisfied throbbing overwhelming him as he took a deep breath in.

Suddenly choking as the shower water soared through his nostrils.

“Dammit...”, the man cursed himself behind his coughing.

“Shota?”

A concern knock on the door startled the man.

“Are you okay?”, Aoi called to him from behind the door.

“Yeah!”, he called back, trying to sound like he didn’t almost just drown. “I’m fine”.

“Are you sure? Do you need me to come in?”

“No!”, Aizawa shouted loudly, lightly startling the woman. It was bad enough seeing her in that state nearly had him on his knees, but her seeing him like this was the last thing he needed. “I-I mean, I’m alright. I won’t be much longer”.

“O-okay”, Aoi reluctantly consented, “the food should be ready soon”.

“Okay”, he finally began to calm down. “Thanks”.

Pulling away from the door, Aoi made her way back to the kitchen.

She actually lied.

Dinner was far from ready.

In fact, she hasn’t even started.

She had been staring at this pot of water for the past 20 minutes just imagining Aizawa in his damp clothes. His shirt mated against his toned pectorals. 

His defined collarbone...the thickness of his neck.

That gorgeous jawline with that strangle attractive unkempt stubble, that thick inky black hair.

God! She swore she could die right now with how hard her chest was beating.

She had never known how strong he was. She forced herself not to pay much attention to him in school.

Her pride forced her to keep up the appearance that she hated him.

After a while of not seeing him once they graduated, it became easier...until she saw him on the news.

The Underground Erasure Hero: Eraserhead.

Watching him in action...fighting real villains, saving lives.

She felt such pleasurable guilt not just seeing this as an act of heroics rather than something to get her off when she was alone.

How much she wanted him to tie her up in his cloth...rip into her clothes and watch her unfold beneath him.

Their bodies melting against one another...

Aoi pinched her thighs together hoping to relieve herself of some of the tension...

Gripping at the front her panties through her shirt...her fingers lightly grazing over her lace covered folds as she imagined Shota crawling on top of her.

Guiding her through this lustful current until she drifted over the edge.

A unexpected whimper escaping her throat, echoing through the house, before she clasped her hands over her mouth.

Peering toward the door, she silently pleaded to whoever that Shota didn’t hear that.

The shower was still on.

He was probably finishing up and didn’t even notice.

Yeah...that’s it...

Clearing her throat, she finally settled her attention on preparing dinner.

The man in the shower’s back against the wall...body coated in sweat as he replayed her voice in his head again...and again.

Steam poured from the bathroom.

Aizawa’s thick black locks slightly cured from being washed.

His body feeling refreshed.

Although, he wasn’t fully comfortable with the fact he was forced to go commando in Aoi’s house...especially in these loose grey sweatpants.

The right tank top was already a bit much.

He peered toward the kitchen, confused for he did not see anyone.

However, he saw a random pot clearly through into the sink and noticed the kitchen floor seemed recently cleaned.

“So!”

The man was lightly startled, however he wasn’t sure by what more.

The sudden echoed address or the two marshmallowy breasts now very prominently in his face.

No longer hidden under the large t-shirt from before, but now a skin tight, black lace cami that even looked at least 2 sizes too small.

It squeezed against her pale breasts, her cleavage like a deep heavenly abyss.

Like he could lose an arm in there.

He wanted to kick himself for how little he appreciated the t-shirt. Despite its lack of coverage toward her lower region, it kept other stimuli from filling his brain.

It was so large on her that he couldn’t make out her true form. He never really noticed in school...her clean hourglass like curves as well as the toned muscle that defined them.

Her cami displaying most of her lower abdomen, her lace panties so perfectly cradling her symmetrically peach shaped hips.

Her lean stomach, solid like a marble slate.

This woman was like a clay goddess.

“You finally finished, huh? Took you long enough”, she smirked toward the man. Struggling with all her might to not stare at the very clear extremity bumping against the front of his sweatpants.

“W-What happened to your shirt?”, the man asked clearing his throat.

“Um...”, Aoi started to explain, “dinner kind of took a...turn SO I ordered pizza and fished out the booze”.

She lifted a full bottle of whiskey to his view with a sly smile.

Eyeballing the bottle with a raised brow, Aizawa returned his gaze to the woman.

“Want some?”

Light giggles filled the room.

Aoi’s smile was contagious for Aizawa couldn’t help, but do the same.

“God, I forgot all about that”, she giggled facepalming herself.

“Surprising considering how adamant you were about grinding me into the dirt”, Aizawa commented taking another sip from his glass.

“You were such a jackass though”, Aoi teased the man, perching herself next to him. Her head resting on her arms.

“Yeah, you told me a lot”, he replied leaning back against the couch, Aoi giggling with an adorable toothy grin.

“Still, you were amazing”, he complimented the woman.

“I got disqualified for trying to crush your skull with my foot”, Aoi smirked at him with a raised brow. “...although, you had it coming”.

Aizawa chuckled to himself, taking another sip.

“Still...you were the highlight of that fight”.

“The crowd was terrified, Shota”.

“They were in awe”, the man retorted abruptly. “At the amount of power they witnessed. I was as well”, he confessed, meeting her gaze.

“I never looked at it that way”, Aoi’s eyes drifted to her lap.

Aizawa was silent.

“I mean, part of the reason I wanted to bash your head in so much during that fight was because I hated the fact that...I enjoyed watching you”, she softly confessed, returning her gaze to his tired stare.

“My aggression isn’t all that made that a good fight”, Aoi lightly shook her head. “That annoying...”.

Aizawa took another sip of his drink with a smirk.

“...albeit incredibly useful quirk of yours...”

He turned a curious gaze to the woman as she lifted her head, scooting just a bit closer to him on her knees.

“...isn’t what stole the show. It was those sexy ballerina legs of yours...”, Aizawa silently choked on his drink.

“...that overly rational brain of yours...”, giving a light poke to his temple.

“...and the dedication to being a good hero...”, placing a gentle hand over his thumping heart, “...that comes from here”.

Aizawa’s stomach was in knots.

He stared down toward the woman beside him. Their bodies now so close, her breasts now pressed against his arm.

They were just as soft as he imagined.

The sensation sending waves of static through his arms igniting a flame inside of him.

With a light sigh, he desperately tried not to focus on it, taking another sip of his drink.

“Dedication and strength doesn’t get you everywhere”, Aizawa added, lightly refuting her compliment.

“Well, of course it doesn’t”, she replied, resting her head against her hand. Leaned against the couch.

“But it shows where you’re heart lies when you use it for the right reasons”.

“True...but then lack of fans from the public and the media have required some...subtle sacrifices”, the man confessed. “Life isn’t simple when you’re an independent”.

“You don’t need to be AllMight to be a good hero, Shota”, Aoi softly replies with a sweet smile. “People are slow with low attention spans, but one of these days they’re going to notice that they’ve been sleeping easier these past few weeks and then one day, someone’s going to see a man in all black with canary yellow goggles and Matrix hair swinging from the rooftops to save them. And one of them may have a camera”, she explains with such fervor and glee.

Aizawa just stares in awe at the scenario she just conjured.

“And then...those ‘subtle sacrifices’...like a decent place to stay...”, Aizawa’s eyes widened suddenly. “Or not having an umbrella...as you called it...”.

She lightly smirked at the man’s light embarrassment from being caught in his lie.

“...they’ll see that you don’t have to have a flashy quirk or a booming agency to be someone’s hero”.

Aizawa didn’t have much of anything to say. He was shocked...stunned...how could this Amazon hold someone like him in such high regard?

“How did you know...”, Aizawa’s voice was low...light with shame, his hair draping over his face, “...a-about...”.

His thick black hair like a curtain hiding his inner turmoil.

Only to be gently pulled back by those beautifully delicate fingers...a pair of pearly eyes peering into his blackened soul like a beam of light from the heavens.

“My eyes may not look like much, but...they at least let me see you”.

Their eyes locked indefinitely. Their proximity was so close that it was all that was in their view. They didn’t need anything else.

In the darkness of the night, the subtle tapping of the rain on the window, it was silent...it was bright.

Time was irrelevant. All that existed was the space between them.

The heat radiating from their bodies anchoring them closer. Their lips just ghosted over one another. The depth of their exhales has them twitching in anticipation.

Trailing his fingers against her bare thigh, Aoi’s breath hinged the closer he got to the lace lining of her panties.

Her body jumped in slight anxiousness pushing her more against Aizawa’s chest, her hand now resting against his bicep.

With a light tickle against her cheek, Aoi’s briefly shuttered upon noticing Aizawa’s fingers against the large portion of her hair that coated most of the left side of her face.

“...w-what’re you doing?”, her whisper shaky as she tried to look away.

“I want to see both of your eyes”.

Aoi’s heart dropped as she tried to remove her view from his eyes.

“Shota, please...”.

“It’s okay...”, he tried to reassure her as he continued to gentle pull her hair behind her ear.

“Shota...”, Aoi stuttered turning her head away from him.

“You don’t have to be afraid”, he continued to reassure her, holding her into place. “It’s just me...”.

Her shaking worsened the more the world became visible on her left side until she shoved herself from his grasp, with a sharp “NO!”, plummeting for the floor.

“Aoi!”, the concerned man shouted as he attempted to help her up.

“I’m fine”, she stammered denying his help and attempting to flee to her room. “I-I’m j-just tired, I...I think I should just lay down for a while”, she insisted as she grabbed onto her door handle.

“WAIT!”

The worry in the man’s tone stopped the panicked woman in her tracks.

“Please, I...I’m sorry”, Aizawa softly spoke as he stood on the opposite side of the room. “I should’ve stopped when you said, I just...”.

“It’s alright”, she reassured him with a sigh. “I just...need to be alone...”, she tried to run once again.

Her door handle clicking.

“I know about your eye...”.

Aizawa could hear her heart hit the floor.

“...what’re you talking about?”, she tried to say defensively, although behind her sobs, he wasn’t buying it.

“The one that you hide from everyone”.

He slowly began to approach her.

“A side effect of your quirk...your left eye activates it, but it’s damaged your retina to where it can’t be exposed to light due to over...unless you use your quirk to correct it”, Aizawa explained, his voice softening while he continued to get closer.

“Which unfortunately removes the color from your iris”.

Aoi stood in silence.

“You’ve hidden it this whole time and to this day, no one has seen...because you’ve been afraid of how people would see you”, Aizawa’s firm tone softened. “Even me...”.

“...how do you know about that?”, Aoi gritted her teeth in frustration, her fist clenched against the door.

“My eyes may not be much...well, anymore...”, the man responds, torso against the sobbing woman’s back.

His arms gently wrapped around her waist. 

Her breath hinged at his gentle embrace.

His face buried into her neck.

“...but they let me see you”.

Aoi still faced the door.

Her skin flushed as Aizawa partly chapped lips  gently grazed her tender flesh.

Guiding her hair with his finger to clear his path.

Aoi’s breath hinged.

His warm breath ghosting over her flesh, his strong hands gripping her waist.

Her rear end pressed against his sturdy erection covered by the thick grey cotton of his sweatpants.

Pushing in between the thin lacy fabric.

Gently kisses laced her neck under her jaw, forcing her to tilt her head to the side.

Soft sighs of pleasure fell over her lips.

“Are you afraid of me...?”, Aizawa whispered against her skin.

The light vibrations tickling the microscopic hairs on her neck.

“No”, she whispered back as she began to pinch her thighs together.

Aizawa placing his palm against her bare stomach keeping her steady. His fingers gripping against her tight abdomen.

“Then why do insist on hiding?”

With hesitance in her voice, Aoi confessed.

“...like you said...not everyone is as favorable as AllMight...or Nemuri”, she sighed. “...beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, but...the beholder’s eyes usually only go so far...and even sight is rigged”.

“...even mine?”, the man whispered against her ear.

Aoi finally beginning to turn her head, a hesitant attempt to meet his gaze.

“...not yet”, she softly replied. “...but I’d like to keep it that way...because even if I’m not beautiful...I can still pretend to be...”.

Barely a second passed and Aoi’s back was planted against her door.

A sharp exhale escaping her lungs.

Her arms in the grasp of the man now standing before her.

Her chin now rested in between his knuckles as he lifted her face into the moonlight.

The baby blue grey meeting him finally.

“My eyes may be dry...and red...and being awake at most times of the day is more of a burden on them than anything...”, Aizawa firmly spoke, “...but in my line of work, they can’t afford to be rigged. My ability to see may determine whether we win or lose...live or die...so I have to be able to see everything more clearly than anyone else...even you”.

Aoi just stared at him in silence, her eyes twitching fighting potential tears.

“And all I see...is nothing less than the vision of  a goddess”.

Aoi’s eyes widened as a small gasp entered her body. 

“Shota...”.

“You’re strong...willed and physicality. You’re capable of crushing steel with your bare hands and you’re far too stubborn to fall in a fight merely because of pain...which in some cases is less rational than just taking the loss, but you don’t back down and you never give up which are two qualities of a great hero...and you use that to push through any obstacle in your path and because of this, most find you intimidating and unnerving”, he continued to explain.

“Your heroics is not expressed through the amount of skin you show or overly eccentric pyrotechnics...it’s just from the power that festers within...that you push each and every day for everyone that looks to you to save them...you find your limits and you go beyond them...Plus Ultra style...and getting a chance to watch this first hand, I say without a doubt, was the truly display of uncompressed, uncompromising beauty... “...and now getting the chance to see this vessel of that raw perfection in front me...”.

A hand now caressing her cheek, the ruff of hair covering her eye ticking his knuckles.

“Getting the chance to feel it against me...tell her that I...”, Aizawa paused suddenly. “...that I will always think she is the most beautiful...in every way...makes me want to see more...”, the light flush in his cheeks made it nearly impossible for Aoi to resist.

He was sincere...and she trusted him with everything she had.

“Then, what’re your waiting for?”, she whispered, her words ghosting over her longing lips.

As Aizawa gently pulled the small tuft of hair from her face, he felt his heart nearly leap from his chest at what appeared to be a literal pearl centered in this woman’s eye.

A glossy, shimmering white, blue waves dancing against it as the moonlight penetrated its surface.

A closer look and he could see the ripples in her iris, her quirk at work manipulating the cells.

To constantly use her quirk to keep her vision...the strain this must’ve put on her in the beginning, Aizawa was left in awe that this was just second nature now.

The strength was unmatched...his fingers lightly caressing her cheek as he refocused to the rest of her face.

“I see you”.

The woman whispered sweetly.

Aizawa could no longer contain himself as his lips desperately crashed against hers. Inhaling her scent as he embraced her luscious snow white lips.

Slowly becoming swollen and red.

His fingers trailing down her neck onto her flushed breasts, still wrapped tightly in her cami.

Aoi still planted firmly against the door as his body overtook hers, every inch of flesh being caressed and embraced by his touch.

A sudden gasp escaped Aoi’s throat as Aizawa lifted her from her feet.

Her thighs pressed tightly on either side of his body as he held her weight via a strong grip on her rear end and an arm wrapped around her back.

Her hands tightly against his toned shoulders and back.

Releasing soft moans and grunts within each other’s mouth as Aizawa’s covered erection ground itself against Aoi’s damp panties.

The warmth of her wetness making its way front the fabric of the sweatpants onto Aizawa’s tip.

It begged for entry past the drenched walls of fabric.

Aoi clenching in anxiousness at the pressure against her folds. His tip occasionally grazing or pushing against her clit.

Her light chirps of pleasure, his impatience growing with every stroke.

Finally giving into his desires, Aizawa pushes Aoi’s bedroom door open, hurriedly making his way to her bed.

Gently laying her body down, fighting with himself to not break away, he consents pulling his body from hers.

Basking in the view before him.

The navy blue sheets perfectly meshing with the her lace panties...her hair...the deep blue atmosphere from the rain...wrapped around the shimmering statuesque definition of human perfection.

Begging for him in such sinful bliss.

The flushed rose printing over that snow coated flesh ravaged his heart.

The swaying of her body against the sheets.

The pinching of her marshmallow thighs in her impatient and futile effort for a release, the slow pull of her swollen bottom lip with her teeth.

The innocent grey and the angelic pearl...such a clear and harmoniously affectionate gaze.

Nothing needed to be said...

Aizawa’s body seemed heavy...he nearly abandoned his footing, but pushed himself to approach. 

Crawling toward the woman before him, separating her thighs to make room for himself.

He wanted to see how she looked in her purest and most sinful form.

As he made his way further and further up, his fingers slide under her cami pushing it up her abdomen.

Her newly exposed skin sending chills through her body.

Until her voluptuous marshmallow breasts spill out nearly hitting him in his face.

His stubble grazing against them.

A soft moan mixed in with a giggle as they tickled her tender flesh as he continues to lift the cami over her head.

Her arms sliding from the loops as she rested them over her head.

Aizawa was taken aback.

He could clearly witness their size before, but the cami did not do them justice.

So plump and soft...smooth to the touch.

Aoi bit her lip as his large hands took hold of them. Squeezing them...his light calluses massaging the thick muscles.

Returning her gaze, Aizawa felt a light twitch against the front of his sweatpants at the begging look in Aoi’s heavenly stare.

This waiting was torturous for her, but as his primal instincts kicked in, his intentions grew delightfully sinister.

Rising from his position, standing upon his knees, Aizawa’s eyes bore down to the pleading woman below.

He wanted to see how much he could make this goddess submit to the strength she praised so dearly earlier.

He knew she was doomed to this when he heard her lips smack against edge other and he removed the tank top revealing his surprisingly muscular and defined build.

Nervousness filled Aoi’s entire being at the perfect specimen above her, but - goddammit - she wanted him so badly.

She couldn’t help, but to squeeze him with her thighs as she lifted herself to him. Her breasts not pressed firmly against his stomach.

Her dainty fingers trailing over his torso. Delicate kisses against his stomach.

Aizawa tilted his head back taking in a deep breath of ecstasy before he looked back toward the woman as she began to loosen the string to his sweatpants.

With a light shove, the woman plummeted back to the bed. Her breasts bouncing upon impact.

Aoi whined in frustration.

“Not yet...”, a low growl slid from the man’s throat, as he looped a couple of his fingers around the lace wrapping her thighs.

“You’ll have to earn it”.

Aizawa felt her breathing halt before he leaned back down, lightly nipping at her flesh as he made his way back to her lips.

Small chirps floating from her throat at ever bite.

“Shota...”, she whimpered.

“Shh...relax”, he whispered against her lips. “...we’ve got all night”.

Giving her a gentle kiss, Aizawa began to make his way down to her thighs.

On his way, squishing her breasts together, relishing in their marshmallowy texture.

He wondered what they tasted like...if they were as sweet as marshmallows as well.

Aoi’s squirming in delight as Aizawa took her tender nipple into his mouth.

Sucking on the sensitive bud as he proceeded to sharply pinch the other.

The subtle pain pleasing her senses as she impatiently ground her lower body against Aizawa’s erection.

“S-Shota...ahh..!”

Switching to the other side, Aizawa’s tongue lightly rolls over the swollen bud, soothing the pain from before.

Her moans settled, but she continued to work her hips.

As he continued to make his way down to her thighs, he rose back to his knees.

Caressing them slowly as he kept the woman’s pleading gaze.

Clearly enjoying the light massage she was receiving as well as the few gropes here and there.

“You are so beautiful laying there like that...”, the man sighed as he leaned forward, kissing her stomach.

Taking his grip against the sides of her lace panties.

Kissing further and further down her lower abdomen.

Aoi’s breathing grew heavier, as his kisses ghosted just above her panty line.

As he slowly pulled them down, his lips lowered further and further toward her folds.

Pulling away completely to slip her panties down her delicate legs, tossing them to behind him to be found later.

“Shit...”, Aizawa whispered at the masterpiece before him.

He wanted to tease her...wanted her to submit to him, but as he gazed at the woman’s body in awe he didn’t think he could wait much longer.

He wanted to make her feel beautiful...he wanted to feel every inch of her...

Crawling toward her once again, Aizawa, leaned on his arm, wraps it underneath her.

Gently caressing her body, their lips ghosting over one another’s as he hovers over her.

Aoi wanted him more than anything...wanted to feel him...

An abrupt gasp left Aoi’s throat as she felt a sudden intrusion of two of Aizawa’s fingers into her already wet vagina.

“Don’t move”, he demanded as he noticed she was about to squirm, “or I’ll make you wait longer”.

Slowly working his digits in and out of her drenched center, Aoi softly pants against his lips.

Her eyes glossing over as the pro hero grinds his fingertips against her inner walls.

“S-Shota...I-I-“.

“Don’t shut your eyes”, he demanded once more, “I want you to look at me”.

Aoi’s cheeks a deeper shade of pink as his fingers began to pick up speed.

“I want to see how much you can take before I finish you”.

Their gaze locked with one another’s. Aoi’s whimpers sending a blood rush to Aizawa’s lower region.

Several pitches higher than her usual sensual tone.

So angelic and vibrant...it drove him mad. He was obsessed.

He wanted to hear more...and more...

Pumping his fingers into the woman’s dripping heat, her cries intensifying his desires.

She clutching onto his arm for dear life.

His focus on her eyes and her voice sent him into a mental heavenly abyss.

Before a pleasantly strong tingling sensation warped his whole body.

His breath hinged slightly.

“Shit...”, the man whispered as Aoi’s delicate fingers firmly wrapped around Aizawa’s throbbing cock within his now loosened sweatpants.

Silently screaming in her mind her surprise at his size as she stroked his aching shaft.

“I thought I told you not to move”, Aizawa grunted, her fingers sparking every nerve with such high intensity.

Nearly distracting himself from his current task.

“Are you trying to say you don’t like it?”, Aoi slyly grinned, lightly biting her lip.

With a small chuckle, Aizawa pressed his lips against hers once more.

Absorbing her soft moans as he dug further into her, tight coils forming in her stomach.

His breathing heavy as her grip against him tightened. Her strokes quickening.

A damp squelch coming from Aoi’s tightening pussy as Aizawa inserted a third finger, pushing them as far inside her as he could.

“Ahh...! Fu-hah..! Hmm...”. Aoi bit her lip trying to quiet herself.

It was nearly impossible for Aoi not to squirm. Her body trembled violently, yet she was soothed by Aizawa’s warm embrace.

Her eyes shut against her better judgment.

“Look at me”, Aizawa whispered to her. “Don’t stop...”.

Aoi’s eyes fluttered open once again, greeted by those gorgeous tired eyes. Reaffirming her grip against him, her stroking quickened as he began to more fiercely jerk her insides.

Her sweet juice secreting all over the sheets.

His slick precum slipping under her hand. The slickness allowing her to quicken her strokes. Her grip firm, intoxicating the man in his need for the ultimate release.

Their moans and grunts intertwining with their dancing tongues, losing themselves further and further into bliss as they continued to push each other toward the edge.

Every fiber in Aoi’s body screaming at her as she fought not to squirm and fall to the coil in her gut, every electrode in Aizawa’s being breaking his sanity as he fought not to give in to release.

He couldn’t take it any longer.

“That’s it”, the man grunted as he yanked his fingers from the woman, not giving her a single moment to catch her breath.

Making quick work of his sweatpants, finally fully revealing himself to her, Aoi’s frustration shooting her forward to grab hold of the man pulling him between her legs.

Aizawa’s firm chest pressed against her flushed breasts, his throbbing shaft ferociously grinding against her clit as he ravaged her body in kisses and light nips.

Squeezing her thighs as they trembled with pleasure, her fingers running ramped through his thick wavy hair.

“Tell me how much you want it”, his dark gravely voice itching Aoi’s ears.

“I want it...”, Aoi panted softly, “...please!”

“Louder”.

“I want it!”, Aoi whined as she gripped against his inky mane, “Please...don’t make me wait anymore”.

“Louder!”, he demanded with a sharp slap against her bare ass.

“For the love of GOD, fuck me! You gorgeous son of a-“.

“That’s better”, Shota cut off the woman’s cries as he shoved his longing cock inside her dripping pussy until their flesh snapped together.

A sharp melodic whale floated from the woman’s throat followed by a low groaned from Aizawa.

“Fuck...”, he panted as his flexible hips curled against her. Completely filling her with his impressive size. 

“...it’s so tight...”, he grunted, “...and soft”.

His excitement driving him to rock faster, his muscles burning as he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“Ahh-hah! Y-Yes...Shota, baby...”, Aoi’s moans carrying throughout the room. “Don’t stop...don’t...ahh!”

Aizawa taking her lips once more, his hands coursing every inch of her body as he picked up speed. Their thighs snapping against one another.

The whirlwind of her high overwhelming Aoi’s senses as she found herself clawing the flesh upon Aizawa shoulders and back.

His grunts toward the pain confusing his conscious as he endured every ounce with such sinful pleasure.

This moment of sheer ecstasy overtaking Aizawa’s body. He did not want this to cease so soon, no matter how close they were.

Lifting himself back to his knees, keeping their bodies intact, he hoisted Aoi onto his thighs.

Their sweat coated chests plastered against each other’s.

No ones were needed as Aoi immediately began to rock her hips against the man’s lap.

Her eyes bore into his as she hung onto him for dear life. His arms wrapped around her back and groping her butt keeping her steady as she rode him.

Her clit rubbing against his lower abdomen.

Aizawa planted a firm spank to her rear. Her movements so graceful and free.

Her breath heavy as she refused to slow herself down. They were so close. She could feel it.

“Ngh, Aoi...fuuuck”, Aizawa groaned, gripping onto her tighter.

Gyrating her hips, slamming her down onto himself harder as he matched her rhyme.

“S-Sho...hu-hah!”, she released in a breath, her sharp inhales filling the room as she was nearing her peak.

“Aoi...”, the man grunted as he continued to push himself as deeply as he possibly could.

Their eyes ever pulling away from one another. Their souls intertwining in space they melted into each other.

“S-Shota...”, the woman whispered in a breath, her eyes glossing over, pouring with ecstasy, only sharp inhales entering her lungs.

Her hands against his face, his stubble poking at her palms. Her body violently trembling against him.

Time seemed to had slowed down, choking all the oxygen of Aizawa’s chest. There was a pause. Silence.

“Hu-ah...I-I love you...”.

Aizawa clutched the woman’s back, a roar of an exhale escaping his lungs. In unison with a echoed cry, Aoi’s legs convulsing against his thighs as the waves of their climax blended together.

His overwhelming obsession for the woman still roaming his body as he held her body so tightly in his grasp, still not getting enough of how someone could be so perfect.

Their essences mixed into a small mess on the sheets as their exhaustion finally set it, sending them collapsing on the bed.

Drenched in cool sweat, they ignored the blankets.

Aizawa’s partially draped over the woman’s, his arm gently resting on her heaving chest.

Desperately searching for each other’s eyes once again, finding them in the haze before they begin to drift to a forced slumber.

Aoi fell victim to her exhaustion, her beautiful eyes finally shutting.

Leaving the dry eyed hero to hazily gaze into the sleeping face of the goddess he had pining for all these years...

With a gentle caress of her cheek, and a final sigh before succumbing to sleep. 

“...My beautiful Aoi...I love...”.

An orange shimmer against the thin membrane of her eyelids.

A tiny peak welcoming the morning sun in her baby blue eye.

Aoi rose from her laying position, running her fingers though unkempt hair.

A blanket slid from her breasts onto her lap, but in her groggy state, she didn’t question it.

However she didn’t remember it being there before...

A light yawn slid from her lips.

She looked about the room, her eyes adjusting to the brightness.

When they finally did...

...she realized she was alone.

She couldn’t lie to herself and say she was surprised, but nonetheless, she felt her heart begin to crack behind her breast.

Reluctant to even get out of bed, she slid to the edge finding her sleepers at the end.

As well as locating her discarded panties from the night before, slipping them off.

As she approached the door, eyes heavy with sleepiness and light shame, once her ears finally adjusted to their surroundings, she heard the television.

“Multiple villains at large in the downtown districts! We advise residents to stay indoors!”

She didn’t remember even turning the TV on last night.

Grabbing a long black cardigan and wrapping her body with it, as she neglected to put on a top, Aoi made her way into the living room where she could finally see what the commotion was.

The TV was turned to the news station where it was showing a helicopter view of stand-off situation between multiple villains and the police.

Three officers down, one wounded behind the squad car barricade and two laying in the street in between the villains and their comrades.

Their vitals unclear.

Aoi’s attention was firm to the screen until she heard felt a presence behind her near the screen door.

With a startled gasp and whip of her body to face the presence, she was relieved to see Aizawa.

He didn’t leave.

However, now in his newly cleaned hero costume.

His goggles sitting at the ready against his forehead.

Aizawa basking in her radiant glow as the sunlight kissed her porcelain skin.

He remembered this feeling from the previous night...like he was seeing her again for the first .

As she opened her mouth to speak...

They both turned their attention to the television.

“This is an update! Law enforcement have reason to believe that the suspects have taken hostages”.

Aoi returning her gaze to the pro hero.

“...I gotta go”, Aizawa finally spoke, a light somberness in his voice.

“Okay”, Aoi nodded to him understandingly.

Following him toward the screen door as he prepared to take his leave...

“You know, I could go too...”, Aoi softly implied, “I could put on my costume and meet you there. You may need backup, Nemuri would flip to see me wear her new design and...”, she paused placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“...we could be a team...you and me. We’d have the bad guys running for their mommy’s”, she grinned.

“Yeah, we would”, the man chuckled, placing a loving hand against her cheek.

The morning gleam shimmering against her beautiful eyes.

“Some other time”, he softly replied, “...there aren’t too many guys there so Wonder Woman showing up might be a bit overkill”, he joked.

“And here...I know you’re safe so I don’t have to worry”, he admits, sincerity in his eyes.

“Hostages confirmed! Repeat: hostages confirmed!”

With a light groan Aizawa lifted his scarf to begin his short journey over the rooftops.

“Dammit”, he grunted in annoyance, “I’ll see you soon”.

“Okay, be careful”, she smiled as he hoisted himself over her house with his scarf.

“I love you...”, she spoke in his direction as her gaze shifted to the ground below.

A light shriek escaping her lungs as she was suddenly startled by the man in black dangling upside down from her roof like a spider monkey.

Planting a loving kiss to her lips before she could speak.

As he pulled away, her eyes still in light shock, a endearing smile soothed her soul.

“I love you too”.

A soft giggle escaped her lips as the man playfully winked at her before he disappeared from sight once more making his way to the scene.

Finally re-entering her home, closing the door behind her, Aoi made her way to the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee before posting herself against the countertop.

Smiling gleefully at the TV.

“This just in! Pro-Hero Eraserhead has arrived on scene! I repeat: Eraserhead is on scene!”

Tagging: @digitalkanvas​ @completelyinappropriate​ @aquathemermaidstripper​ @glacian-apocalypse​ @a-new-recipehhh​

[junionigiri]

Just Another Secretary Story! Chapter 3 - What I Want

Chapter summary: Todoroki tries to understand what Uraraka wants (and sort of misses).

Rating: T

“So,” Midoriya Izuku begins, struggling to keep his face as serene as a Buddharupa, “she said no.”

Shouto hates that he ends up in Midoriya’s much smaller office in the morning that follows his proposal to Uraraka, yet here he is. To his astonishment, his subordinate was right and he was wrong. The shorter man’s efforts to not say any variation of I told you so makes this humbling ordeal a lot worse.

After some thoughtful silence regarding the look of utter defeat in Shouto, he asks, “What happened anyway? You drove to Uraraka-san’s house last night, right?”

The arduous journey took him forty-five minutes of driving in the opposite direction, ten minutes taking the wrong exit, and another ten minutes of driving at a snail’s pace in that tiny, tiny neighborhood where she lived. He only ran over a grand total of two ceramic pots, resulting in a brief confrontation and him leaving 20,000 yen per pot to the stunned owners. He was told to come back anytime, which was strange, but he wouldn’t have minded it if his travels were worth it.

They were not. After watching him cast his dignity aside and covering the sidewalk with raw eggs, Uraraka merely knelt beside him and touched his forehead to check for a fever. Followed by her asking him if he remembered who he is or where he was and how many fingers she was holding up.

“Yikes.” Midoriya physically winced at that. “And then what?”

Shouto exhales slowly. “And then she said she can’t… won’t marry me.”

Her exact words were, “Director, I can’t marry you, how can you even ask me that? And please get off the concrete right now, your suit will get ruined!!! ”

He supposed he can’t blame her for not immediately picking up on the flawless logic of his plan, so he explained things to her as concisely as he can. “You want to get married. I am the most suitable person for what you want--smart, wealthy, successful, handsome, established, and a fair man who won’t force you to quit your career. There’s no question. You should marry me as quickly as possible.”

He isn’t even bragging when he said those things about himself--they’re just objectively true. She stared at him in a number of ways--curiosity, shock, and an emotion he didn’t know that made her eyes flare. He thought she ended up getting the fever judging by the way her cheeks turned from pink to red and how her hands shook.

“Director… go home. I gotta… have to clean up the eggs.”

After that, she walked away from him without saying anything. She might have been shocked or she might have been just plain rude, which he didn’t deserve at all. Shouto went home feeling irritated.

In an impassioned text she sent him after he demanded an explanation, she tells him, What I want is an ordinary marriage with an ordinary person. Nothing more, nothing less. Goodnight, Director Todoroki.

“Oh no,” Midoriya groans. “Of course it’ll end up like this, Todoroki-kun—I mean, Director. I’m surprised you thought this would work at all.”

His fingers tap against his desk in irritation. “You made that abundantly clear, Midoriya. But tell me why I was set to fail.”

“Well, there are lots of reasons why it wasn’t going to work… I mean, you went there without a plan, you didn’t call her or text her that you needed to see her, you didn’t check if the venue was appropriate for the proposal, your proposal was obviously rushed, you didn’t even have a ring, you caused her to break all those eggs, ruined her dinner, made a big mess in the neighborhood...”

Each point Midoriya stabs him right in the ego until Shouto feels about as alive as the hideous tiger rug his father keeps in their summer home.

“But most important of all… Director.” He pauses to take a deep breath, both to give his superior time to ruminate over his words, and also because he’s already turning blue from talking so much without breathing. “The biggest flaw in your plan was you asked to marry her with no consideration for her whatsoever. You just assumed that she’d marry you just because you said so! That’s not how marriage works! For a marriage proposal like that, no is the only correct answer!”

How is he supposed to know how marriages worked? He didn’t learn anything witnessing the sham of a marriage between his parents. It’s already baffling enough that anyone would want anything as fragile as that. Still,

“I did it for her. I wouldn’t have asked if she didn’t want it.”

Midoriya is wrong. This isn’t about what he wanted. Uraraka is the one who wants marriage, not him. He’s never even considered it at all before her.

His best friend looks more frustrated than ever. “No, you wouldn’t have asked if you weren’t going to lose an assistant. You wouldn’t have asked her anything if she didn’t tell you that she wanted to leave! And I get that you’re panicking because you’re afraid to lose her, but I think you need to take time to understand her better!”

Realizing too late how passionately he nagged Shouto like a disappointed mother, Midoriya blushes furiously and clamps his mouth shut.

“You seem to understand relationships better than I do, Midoriya. I’m surprised. You definitely don’t look experienced.”

Midoriya continues to make an impressive impression of a tomato and stammers in protest. “Nghh, it’s not that--I mean--no, you know what, my experience doesn’t matter.” Shaking the red from his freckled cheeks, he points an accusing finger at him. “What matters now is you! Make an effort to understand what Uraraka-san wants and give her what she needs from you!”

“Make an effort to understand what Secretary Uraraka wants,” he repeats.

Midoriya hums affirmatively.

“And give her what she needs.”

The other man nods brightly. “Yeah, you get it now, right Director? The thing you have to do now is to--”

“--understand who her ideal marriage partner is and become that person.”

“--give her some space and-- TODOROKI-KUN, SERIOUSLY. ”

Midoriya isn’t prone to many outbursts, so anytime he has one people have to be concerned. But the gears in Shouto’s head are too busy turning for him to notice.

Of course he was set to fail from the start, because the manner of his approach was wrong. There was meaning to Uraraka mentioning her ordinariness--how could he have missed it? He didn’t think being extraordinary would give him any disadvantages ever in his life. But now that he understands the situation better, he knows what to do next.

“She wants an ordinary person and an ordinary marriage. So, if she were an ordinary person from her age group, what she would be looking for is romance. That’s a statistically sound assumption based on solid marketing research. So if I am able to successfully woo her as an ordinary man--”

“Oh no,” Midoriya whispers.

Oh yes. It’ll be tough to become the ordinary person she wants, but he can make it work. He’ll face the challenges head-on for the sake of her future-- their future. A stable marriage with a smart, wealthy, successful, handsome, established man, and a stable job working for a smart, wealthy, successful… well, you get the idea. She should count herself lucky.

By that time, the green-haired chief looks pretty much done with everything. “I know that look in your eyes, Director, and I know nothing’s gonna stop you whatever I say. So let me know how it goes, yeah? I’ll get to work now, so...”

Gathering his things, Midoriya turns to leave his own office. Unfortunately for him, Shouto isn’t done with him yet. One searing hot hand makes it to the shorter man’s shoulder, making him yelp.

“But Chief Midoriya, I need your expertise in this. Kindly put your bag down and help me strategize.”

“... oh no,” Midoriya repeats helplessly.  

 *

 Ochako hesitates a little as she opens the door to the Office of the Executive Director. Due to her errands the day before, she hasn’t had a chance to sit with her officemates since the announcement of her resignation. In her groupchat with Tooru-chan and Tsuyu-chan from Marketing, she was told that she’s the topic of widespread gossip all over the corporation. So she’s worried--how is the rest of the office going to react about her leaving?

The moment she enters, Monoma Neito, the unit manager, twirls with a fox-like smile. “Well, well, well! And here we have the quitter herself! Welcome to the end, Uraraka!”

The rest of the five-man team--Senior Officer Iida Tenya and his two assistants Ashido Mina and Kirishima Eijirou--let their things clatter noisily on the table upon her entrance.

“G’morning guys-- gah-- ”

Everyone is already around her before she can breathe. Predictably, it’s Iida who reaches her first by stomping across the room at the speed of light. “Uraraka-kun, tell me it isn’t true! Are you truly abandoning the Executive Director in favor of a different company in Korea?”

“No, Iida, you got that wrong!” Mina says, shoving him away from her face. “Ochako-chan, I heard you’re quitting ‘cause you’re getting married to a childhood friend from Mie-ken! That’s it, right? Right?”

“No way, Mina!” Kirishima shoves her face with his own so he can look at Ochako in the eye. “It’s medical, right? Uraraka, if you need a blood or organ donor, you know you can just come to me, right? I’ll give you my kidney and I won’t even say ouch , so--”

So they’re not mad at her for leaving. She’s hardly able to get even an awkward laughter in when Monoma shoves the enthusiastic group away from her with a snooty tsk, tsk, tsk.

“Now now, you lot. We all know what this is about.” With his usual flourish and spread of the fingers, he deems himself to explain. “Uraraka has been the most faithful aide to the Director for the past nine years. No other secretary is able to achieve the feats that she has. Therefore we owe her the courtesy of her privacy when it comes to the personal reasons of her leaving work.”

Ochako stares at the usually prickly manager in awe. “Wow, Monoma-kun, that’s awful decent of you.”

“Can’t be helped. I am an extraordinarily decent person, after all. So when you marry that Mie-ken guy and move to Korea within the next three and a half months for work and treatments, it’s really none of our business~”

So he’s still the same snake. She wonders why anyone would still believe anything this guy has to say.

“That said, Uraraka,” Monoma continues, batting his eyelashes innocently, “if you’re looking for a new chief secretary to replace you, look no further, for I--”

“Ah! That’s right!” Iida interrupts them with a swift karate chop in front of the blonde’s face. “Uraraka-kun, if it is so, we must create a task force to find your replacement! As such, I would like to verify the imminence of your resignation, so that I can act accordingly!”

Ignoring Monoma’s offended scoff, Ochako beams at Iida like a lightbulb. “It’s true, Iida-kun! Like I told the Director, I’m gonna start turnover of duties as soon as we find a replacement. So I’ll only be here for another month!”

“Oh my god, Ochako-chan! You’re really leaving us! I can’t believe it!” Mina says tearily, “Oh, but you’re not dying from an illness or anything like that, are you?”

She smiles. “Nope, I’m not dying! Don’t worry!”

“OMG! How about marriage then?!”

Ochako tries not to cough remembering the whole debacle from last night. “... nope… not yet...”

The entire office sighs in relief (except for the snickering Monoma, the obvious source of all gossip). “But this is great, Uraraka! You work the hardest out of all of us, but now that you’re resigning, it means you’re finally going to have some time for yourself, huh?” Kirishima says.

“Well… yeah, there’s that too,” she answers coolly. When she beams again, the four other executives had to literally shield their eyes from her.

“Gah, my eyes,” Monoma mutters, wiping his eyes. “Is this the smile of a woman who’s finally going to have time for dates? I’m ~thrilled~ for you, Uraraka.”

The spring of her youth came late, but boy is she going to enjoy it. The vision of holding a special someone’s hands as they walk under the cherry blossoms seems a little less impossible now.

Mina gasps.”That’s right, Kiri! Ochako-chan can go on dates now!” When the redhead only stares at her blankly, she rolls her eyes. “You know! That time we went to the barbecue place in Wookiess, he asked you about Ochako after seeing our pictures?”

Kirishima gasps. “Yeah… yeah, yeah! Hey, Uraraka, if you’re up for a blind date, there’s a good buddy of mine who--”

Before any of them can process what the boisterous couple is actually trying to say, a flash of red and white enters their peripheral vision. As a conditioned reflex, they all shut their mouths, turn to the entrance and simultaneously do a half-bow. “Executive Director,” they greet in unison.

Todoroki Shouto glares at them more severely than usual. “Secretary Uraraka,” is all he needs to say before Ochako is on his heels the next second.

She hears a soft and scared bye from the rest of the team. It’s the same air of villagers watching the human sacrifice get thrown into the gaping maw of a volcano. The difference is, the villagers only have to do this once per season, whereas the Office of the Executive Director does this every single day.

Just a month longer, Ochako, she tells herself before going over the day’s agenda with the Director. 

 *

 The Director’s mood is in a different level of hell than any of them had imagined. Oddly it was Kirishima who ended up with the bulk of the workload that day. No-one dared to question why.

So much for talking to him about the blind date. Ochako’s definitely interested in learning more about the guy they had in mind. Even though it isn’t very likely that this random guy will be ~The One~, it’s still a great chance to test the waters. 

I wonder if he’s a nice guy. There’s a good chance that he is, right? Kirishima’s one of the nicest guys in the universe, and it makes sense to have a ‘good buddy’ who’s as nice as he is. Oh, maybe he’ll have puppy dog eyes. Like a Pomeranian. Gosh, it’ll be cute if he were just like a Pomeranian.

Wait. I’m at work. I shouldn’t be thinking of dates with guys I haven’t met yet. She shakes her head and continues typing up a letter to HR for her replacement. Okay, qualifications, qualifications...

A nice guy, nice hair, stable job, intelligent. He definitely has to be tall. Muscles are good. Sharp eyes? Red is a nice eye color, but that might be too intense. Purple is good too. And blue. Oh, grey. Blue and grey…?

A muscle involuntary twitches on her face.

Sneakily, Ochako peers over to where Director Todoroki is speaking in rapid French to a client from a different continent. The awkward encounter of last night flashes back in front of her eyes. Did the worst marriage proposal ever to have happened really happened? The Director didn’t mention it or even gave any indication that it happened at all, so she seriously wondered if she just dreamt the whole thing.

But she really sent him that message last night didn’t she??? What I want is an ordinary marriage with an ordinary person --she didn’t think she’d be so angry that she can snap at the Director like this through text. But he came at her with that ridiculous proposal of his just so she can keep being his secretary forever and ever, of course she’s going to snap!

Plus, as clueless as the Director is it’s so infuriating that he said something as borderline romantic as I want you by my side forever. Now that Ochako knows exactly what he meant by that, she really hated how fast her heart started beating when he said that while holding her hand. Universe, isn’t it unfair that the guy you sent to make her heart skip a beat for the first time in a long time is the clueless demon Director who just doesn’t want her to quit?

Oof, double oof. Well… if he acts like it didn’t happen, she’s more than happy to comply. It’s better this way so they can work together efficiently. It’ll only be for another month. One more month, Ochako!

Well... the eye color doesn’t matter, as long as he feeds me mochi until I explode. Must like dogs and babies. Cats…? Shelter cats should be okay. If it’s a British Shorthair...

Why is she thinking of British Shorthairs. Why is she thinking of snooty ol’ Victoria running around her dream house with her dream guy. It’s thanks to that proposal that she’s weird today. Stupid Director, messing with her good time like this!

“Uraraka-san?”

Blinking out of her reverie, she shifts into work mode and gives a half-bow to her unlikely visitor. “Chief Midoriya,” she greets respectfully. “I’m sorry, were you standing there for long?”

Midoriya Izuku shakes his head. “You were really enjoying what you were doing, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

He gives one hecking bright smile which leaves her partially blind. Is this guy really Director Todoroki’s best friend? He must be a saint. “The Director is in the middle of a teleconference now so he can’t be disturbed. If you can come back after half an hour…”

“No, it’s okay! I was actually looking for you.”

Midoriya pulls out a floppy folder from under his arm. There are papers there filled with what look like detailed scribbles and anime doodles. To the intrigued Ochako he hands a form.

“Oh… a survey?”

“Yup!” Midoriya shows her the entire questionnaire, which is just one page. “We’re working on booking services that target women working at corporate. You know, usual things, nothing different from the normal things my department works on, not like this survey is weird or anything. Anyhow, since you’re part of our target market, I was hoping you’d help us out…”

Strange, since when did Chief Midoriya hand out surveys personally? If the employees in Endeavor needed to answer surveys, he usually gets Tooru-chan to send the forms via email. So has he been giving this to all the girls in the building? Is that why he’s sweating and murmuring more than usual?

It doesn’t look like Midoriya’s having an easy time with this survey, so she decides to help him out. “No problem, Chief. I’ll work on this one during my break,” she says with a smile. “I’ll give my form to Secretary Hagakure when I’m done.”

“Oh no! No need! Please don’t--” Midoriya coughs so hard he gags. Ochako moves to help him, but he stops her by holding a shaky hand up. “This…. I mean, Secretary Hagakure’s got other important, er, things going on. Uh, so when you’re done, I’ll just come by to pick up your form, okay?”

He’s so stressed Ochako‘s half expecting him to throw up right there and then. “Oh… kay then.”

“Okay that’s settled! Thanks for helping me, er, us out. Bye~~~”

Heaving an oddly relieved sigh, the haggard chief of marketing speedwalks out of the office without sparing a second glance. It’s well known in the company that Midoriya is very bad at talking to women, but this was worse than usual. Must be extra pressure from above...

She browses the survey briefly. There are three questions on it with plenty of space underneath to write her answers:

   Describe your ideal partner. (A complete description by physical attributes and behavioral traits are considered optimal).

Describe an ideal excursion with your ideal partner. (Provide as much detail on the location, ideal time, and weather conditions of said excursion).

Describe an ideal product that you would like to receive from your ideal partner. (Dimensions, color options, and other details are required). 

  Weird. Really weird. She can’t put her finger on it, but the blunt and commanding style of writing reads so familiarly. She’s sure that it isn’t Midoriya or his assistant Tsuyu-chan or Tooru-chan who did this one. Maybe they hired someone new?

Oh well. The questions are pretty interesting, so she’ll give herself time to think about them. Maybe once Kirishima sets her up with her blind date, she can actually claim some of her answers for real. 

 *

 As promised, Midoriya runs right into their office when she tells him she finished the survey. The executive bows to her about half a hundred times before running off and disappearing without any further explanation.

“I wonder if he’s okay,” she asks worriedly as Midoriya almost bulldozes Monoma on the way out.

“Don’t mind him,” Director Todoroki replies coldly. As that guy’s best friend, he sure seems to make an effort to disregard his existence. “You were going to show me those files from HR.”

“Yes, Director.” Ochako places an armful of files over his left, a short summarized list on his right. “These are the candidates for the secretary position. We coordinated with the department head for the interview schedules. The earliest batch will be interviewed next week.”

Todoroki taps his fingers thoughtfully over the desk. “Next week.”

“Yes, Director.”

There’s an anxious moment where Ochako expects him to push back the dates further to keep her working there for longer. But instead of that, the director takes one glance at the list of candidates and points to a name smack in the middle.

“You want to finish the turnover of duties as quickly as possible, right?” His right eye disconcertingly dark, he taps the list menacingly. “Let’s interview the first batch tomorrow. Starting with this one.”

Utsushimi Camie. Ochako raises her eyebrows at the choice. She isn’t a bad candidate at all--she finished university in the prestigious Shiketsu, she has prior experience at a respectable law firm, and she speaks English, German, and Russian fluently.

She also had a long, detailed list of her interests and hobbies that filled up half her resume, which was odd, but it only made her seem more interesting. She’d be a great replacement for Ochako. “Understood, sir.”

Director Todoroki drops the subject and continues with the rest of their daily report. Ochako keeps up with him without much problems, although with the excitement of the things to come it’s more difficult to keep her face carefully neutral.

Things are falling into place for her, aren’t they? 

 *

 It’s nighttime when she’s able to leave the office, but thankfully she’s only an hour late for her next meeting. At an eatery not far from her apartment, she easily spots her dates for the evening.

It’s easy to find them in a dingy diner like this. There are two beauties sitting with half-finished plates of dumplings and Chinese-style fried rice on them: one with dark hair, dark eyes and a gracefulness that makes her stand out, and one with pale skin, pale hair, an exquisite fashion sense and a different charisma that would make anyone do a double-take.

“Yui-chan!” Ochako rushes over to her and gives her a big, warm hug. “And Reiko-chan, oh my gosh, it’s been so long!”

“Yeah, well who’s the idiot who hasn’t taken a single day off for the last nine years?” Reiko gives her a fond smile and another bear hug. “Yui, come on, guilt-trip your cousin a more, she deserves it!”

Yui gives her a sharp look.

“I know, I know, sorry, but I’m here now, right?” Ochako takes a seat and munches on a dumpling. “Oh my gosh, I’m starving, I’m glad you ordered ahead.”

“We’ve been doing this for a long time. Give us some credit.” Reiko tells her flatly.

Kodai Yui is her quiet cousin from her mother’s side, practically a sister from how they were raised. Yanagi Reiko is their closest, snarkiest childhood friend who is also close enough to be their sister. Throughout high school and beyond they made it a point to eat at this diner once a week. Needless to say, their weekly meetings were more difficult to keep once Ochako started working at Endeavor Inc.

“Anyway, enough about that.” Ochako takes some beer and raises it to them. “This is the first time you’re meeting me without owing a single yen to the banks, so… yay me!”

“Yay, Ochako!” The glasses clink and they down their respective drinks, followed by a satisfied ahh~ in unison. As they set their glasses down, all Ochako could think about is how great it felt to know that she’d be able to do this more often.

Reiko squints her exposed eye to her, full lips pursed. “Yesterday, Yui here called me about the thing you told her about. She was so excited she said five full sentences to me. So is it true?”

“Yui-chan, you were that happy for me?” Ochako smiles at Yui brightly, who nods. “And yes it’s true, Reiko-chan! I’m leaving Endeavor Inc!”

“Oh my god, finally? I think I’ll congratulate you more for finally quitting and leaving that brat!”

Ochako giggles at the simultaneous flash of irritation on the girls’ faces. “Wow you guys really hate Director Todoroki that much, huh? ”

“And you don’t?” Reiko looks insulted. “Ochako, your nine-to-five was actually five-to-nine or worse. He forced you into a lot of his stupid business ideas, hung up on you constantly, woke you up in the middle of the night at least three times a week for new deadlines, made you wait on his girlfriends hand and foot, made you take care of his snooty cat--”

“Victoria-chan’s good,” Yui mumbles over her beer, “but, yup.”

“--and worse of all, he expected you to treat him like a prince while he treated you like shit. ” Reiko chugs down the rest of her beer in one go, she was that irritated. “And he did that for nine years. Nine years, Ochako!”

“I know,” Ochako smiles serenely. “No regrets for me though! Ma and Pa are okay in Mie, and look, Yui-chan’s an engineer now! Isn’t that great? Plus now I can do what I want, so--”

Suddenly, tears are falling quietly from Yui’s eyes. Ochako yelps in shock while Reiko scrambles for tissues.

“Yui-chan, come on, you promised not to cry over this anymore.” Ochako pats her silent cousin at the back as she pats her eyes dry gracefully. “You didn’t force me to pay for your tuition, you know? It was something that I wanted to do ‘cause I know it’ll make you happy.”

“Mhm.”

Reiko hums. “You also lent me a lot of cash so I can finish fashion school. Now I’m pretty happy being Yaomomo’s stylist, but… you know we’re both going to feel guilty for making you suffer under that asshat for longer than necessary.”

“Mm.”

“Yeah, that reminds me, shit, the nerve of that guy breaking up with Yaomomo! Oh my god, I need more beer over here, please!”

Ochako pointedly does not tell them about how the break-up happened. She might end up with an angry drunk Reiko sleeping on her couch again. “But he isn’t a bad boss. I mean, even if he pushed me too hard, he always treated me fairly. He’s just clueless about a lot of things. Besides, I learned a lot from trying to keep up with him, so…”

Reiko and Yui give her mildly disappointed looks. “Ochako… he didn’t just push you too hard. He’s practically got you on a ball and chain!”

She scoffs. “You’re exaggerating.”

Out of nowhere, Yui snatches her handbag right from her grasp. Despite her protests, the taciturn girl opens the contents for all to see, which are just standard items in an OL’s handbag--phone, wallet, Suica card, keys to her apartment, keys to the penthouse, a spare handkerchief, Tylenol for the Director’s migraine, a pair of men’s Raybans, the Director’s favorite Waterman ivory fountain pen, peppermints, cat treats--

Reiko simmers a little more. “What are you, his wife? Why the hell is your bag full of his shit?”

She scowls at the meaningful glares directed at her and grabs her bag back. “You know how clueless he is, I have to be ready for everything… It’s part my job to take care of him!”

Yui gives her a pitying look. “Stockholm Syndrome,” she mutters darkly.

Ochako scoffs. “I told you a million times already, Yui-chan, it’s n-not that. He’s my infuriating boss, nothing more, nothing less.”

Reiko narrows her eyes at her. “Hey. You stuttered.”

Under the two accusing gazes, Ochako covers her face with a mug of beer. “No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did. Oh my god.” Reiko looks about ready to flip the table and cover the entire restaurant in dumpling sauce. “Ochako. Don’t you dare.”

“No, Reiko-chan, I swear!”

Yui tugs on her sleeve with a grim determination in her eyes. “Todoroki…?” she asks.

Ochako swallows nervously. Judging by the stares coming her way, this wasn’t going to be easy, and won’t become any easier if she prolongs the agony.

“... proposed,” she finally mutters.

The two girls look at her dumbly. “Proposed?”

Ochako nods. Reiko looks about ready to upend more furniture like an irate poltergeist. Ochako has to pick her next answers carefully. “And… you didn’t say yes, did you…?”

“N-no, of course not!” Ochako sputters. She feels her cheeks light up in protest. “It came out of nowhere! He did it so I won’t quit! Besides, even if he proposed to me better, (like, in a planetarium or something), I’ll never ever ever ever ever say yes to him!”

Yui crosses her arms over her chest. “... stutter,” she says accusingly. 

Ochako makes a sound of frustration. She really doesn’t deserve all the judgmental looks coming her way. She mustered up all that courage to quit, didn’t she? And yeah Director Todoroki proposed to her just the night before and made her question his sanity, but she said no, right? Every single bone in her body told her that she couldn’t ever be with Todoroki Shouto, not in that way--

I want you by my side forever, he’d told her, with her hand in his--

“B-blind date,” she sputters forcefully. “I’m going on a blind date with someone! Someone else. Not Todoroki Shouto. So there! Stop ragging on me, ‘kay?”

She hates how hot her cheeks can get. She chugs her second beer a little faster than she’d like to try to cover it up, and thankfully it works. Yui and Reiko share a sigh of relief. “Details,” Reiko demands, to which she complies happily.

“He’s the best friend of one of my co-workers, Kirishima,” she begins, rifling through her chatlog with the redhead. It’s good that he snuck in some time to text her about it after all his work was done. “The guy’s a journalist! Neat, huh? Kirishima says he asked to meet me after seeing my face on Instagram.”

“Huh. Just your face? What a straightforward guy.” The two girls are mildly impressed. “So, what’s his name? And he’s not ugly or anything is he?”

Ochako laughs. “No, not ugly at all! So this is the guy I’m meeting next week. His name’s Baku--”

A lick of flame appears at the periphery of her vision. It’s small in reality, but in Ochako’s mind, it starts to spread. Suddenly, the whole diner is on fire. There’s ashes and debris falling over the exits, trapping them all. Someone with cold, white hands is telling her to leave and take… someone… out of there...

She can’t move. She’s about to die. They’re both about to die.

“...chako… Ochako…”

She blinks, and suddenly the fires are gone. Her body isn’t cold but she’s shaking all over. Yui is above her, cradling her and keeping her still. She hears Reiko yelling at someone in the kitchen for being too showy with their cooking.

“N… no fire?”

Yui shakes her head. “No fire.”

Reiko reappears next to Yui. “They hired someone new who didn’t know about your pyrophobia. But it’s okay now. I think we should take you home.”

Another night ruined. If it isn’t her schedule, it’s her paralyzing fear of fire. She hates that she has to ask the girls to take care of her again. She hates that the few times they meet, she has to become this broken little person again.

Yui’s too kind. Reiko’s too kind, and also badass. She really doesn’t deserve sisters like them.

“Don’t say that about yourself,” Yui tells her kindly. “You’re a great person, Ochako. One day you’ll see that. And one day, someone special will see that too. Just you wait.”

There’s nothing as comforting as Yui saying so many words while being tucked into bed. It’s good enough that she isn’t afraid to get to sleep and confront the nightmares again.

She dreams of many things, but what she remembers when she wakes up is red, white, and the smell of strawberries.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Without Question (4)

Steve Rogers x Reader

Content: Little fluff, angst

Warnings: None.

Word Count: This is quite late and I don’t know how many people would be reading it. Apologies for the sloppy writing. My brain is still trying to catch up to all the sleep lost last week- which seemed like an eternity now that I look back.

A/N: It’s The Avengers Season 2 will be back after the holidays. :)

MASTERLIST

If there really is a place called heaven on the passing of life after death, it either has to be this place or a replication of this to the very last molecule. The warm water of the levelled-up pond helps you in achieving relaxation of all the physical ache inside your body while the recurrent appeasing clonk of the sōzu behind you, by the side of the outlet for the hot spring that is bringing down the water that you are calmly settled in, aids in soothing the mental turmoil you have been feeling all this time. The pleasant warmth over your bare skin plunged inside the water is ringing a soothing tone of its own. The colourful birds perched atop the sakura trees are singing a beautiful melody as the prime golden rays of the morning sun are fighting with the leaves to touch your face, tease your eyes, tickle your shoulders with their illuminated soft heat. Nature sure is beautiful and mysterious, you think, closing your eyes to breathe in the serenity that surrounds you. “It is, isn’t it?”

With one-tenth of the time they took to close, your eyes open wide and turn towards the voice to witness a familiar face opposite you sitting inside the water, his ripped arms open, resting over the pond’s cemented platform. The flight response makes you let out a broken scream from your lungs on seeing Clint’s gloriously bare figure in front of you before your body ducks itself inside the water, which seems far too clearer even with the ripples now. “Oh, Jesus!” he calls out as he slowly straightens himself, the soft smile that is slowly creeping you out, never leaving his face, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” “What the f-” “Fine day for a dip in the hot spring ain't it?” Your thumping heart hasn't even recovered from Barton's uncalled company when Sam Wilson's presence to your far left- in the same posture as his soft blonde colleague had just a few seconds ago- drives you away from his voice, slipping head down into the water, disturbing the meditative quiet all around you. It's a dream. It's an illusion. There is no other explanation. Your thoughts scream as the water around you swirls and whispers the liquid commotion inside your ear because it seems too much for a moment to open your eyes and face the truth. Stabilising yourself where you sit, the warm ripples teasing your already flushed skin when you come back up, your hair all wet and snaked up around your face, you finally open your eyes after a good few moments of riveting silence filled with your shocked heartbeat inside your ears. The soothing heavenly setting brings back the bird songs and the warm sun peeking at you. Just you. No one in front of you. Or to your left or right. You slowly reverse your way back to the edge of the pond behind you, never blinking for the fear of embodying the war heroes with flawless skin you just witnessed come and go out of the blue. I mean if it really had to be someone... The sōzu still goes about its usual melody, the periodic clonk on the rock hitting your nerves in the right way as your body eases as it feels itself nearly reaching the bank. “You seem a little stressed,” a voice way too familiar to the inner workings of your brain to get all the right juices flowing, making your insides flutter, calls out from behind you. You turn your head- and this time, somewhere in the back of your mind, a part of you does it not out of fear but this buzz that feels like a positive rush- and find yourself staring at the wet brown beard reflecting like golden strings when the sun hits them. “Steve,” you hear yourself call out in a soft whisper as you gaze far too long at the red lips that feel too inviting over the pale face covered in water droplets that make him look too perfect to be real. “So...is this how you prefer it?” You feel his bare muscles flex as his hand comes out of the water to touch the snake strands of your hair and drive them away from your face, his minimal touch of the fingers along your cheeks sending a spiral of illuminated strings twirling right through you down to your core. As if that wasn't enough, the fingers do not leave your face, his blue eyes- like the deeper darker undiscovered space they are- following their movement down your jaw to your chin to stop there before feeling your pulsating lower lip under his thumb. “Is this-” his breath marking the already trembling lips of yours, bringing them closer to his- “how you like it?” Your brain does not even give you time to register his question as the warm wetness of his wine lips melts on to yours. The strength it has taken to keep yourself from freezing your heart there and then, unravels itself from inside you and travels to your limbs to keep themselves from shuddering when Steve's hands gently snake their way from your hips to your back under the water- that feels much warmer now- while his other one takes you by the jaw, latching on to your lips as if he was drowning and you were his last breath. Your limp, bare arms rub against his cold, hard ones and you feel your body automatically leaning into his touch, your blazing fingers landing on his chest before giving up on fighting the urge to move to his back and pulling him closer. His tongue on your lips sends a vibration that seeps down into your mouth to turn it into a delicious moan, forcing you to part your lips and let him through. You feel his tongue take a taste of yours before a low grunt escapes his throat. “How are you so delicious?” You don't want to, but something about his words makes you open your eyes to watch his face experience complete ecstasy- as if for the very first time- his eyes closed, head thrown back a little in an act of prayer. And when it turns back down the eyelids flutter a little before opening and welcoming you to nothing but entire blackness under them as if he was possessed by a demon. __________ You wake up with a jolt. Your body lays there in the bed, on its stomach, not even bothering to do something about the screaming heartbeat as you stare into oblivion for that one long, horrid moment as everything that you just dreamt of flashes through your brain again. “What. The fuck. Is wrong. With me.” A low growl from Stacie comes out. “Not cancer apparently.” You flip on to your side on Clint Barton's voice, not realising where the bed ended and a clumsy fall to the floor began, letting out a squeal before a loud thud and a devastated groan. A quiet, awkward moment passes as you do not move from where you so elegantly just planted yourself. “Yeah, I just came to tell you to come over for breakfast. Banner has some news for you.” Unless it was a way to bleach out specific memories from your mind, you were really not in the mood today. __________ “Okay.” Silence. “That's it?” “Yeah.” “Are you sure?” “Yup. That was the only reaction she gave when Banner told her she didn't have cancer.” Sam turns to look towards your figure sitting in the back of the Quinjet, your hands holding on to the straps that keep you in place in your seat halfheartedly while you stare into some unknown void, the tired eyes surrounded by dark circles washing the soldier with a wave of empathy wrapped in confusion. Steve works with the location of your place, scanning for any unusual activity in the forest that surrounds your home on his tablet while stealing glimpses in your direction, pausing to look at you whenever you absentmindedly scrunch your nose as your hand goes to your shoulder; sometimes his gaze even lingering for a movement as the sun peeks inside from the window to graze your skin and light up your hollow eyes, making the rogue soldier question what could possibly be troubling you after knowing that you might have just been gifted with a second life. Clint turns the jet on autopilot and turns to get up and look in your direction. “She's been giving me really weird looks since morning,” Clint states as he unloads his ammunition from the makeshift armoury. “Me too. I swear to God it was like she was scared of me or something. I've barely spoken to her since yesterday.” “Me too. I didn't even order Thai for dinner because-” “Because of the allergies,” Sam completed while nodding in agreement. Both of them steal unsuspecting glances in your direction, trying to act as if they were having a really serious discussion. “She was on edge last night,” Steve mentions, still mapping the area on the tablet when two pairs of eyes turn towards him with nothing but suspicion filled inside them to the brim, “when I found her lost on the training floor.” “You,” Sam started with a whisper, paused for a moment, before tilting his head a little, “found her on the training floor?” Steve looks up, his brows arching up in the most casual manner as he nodded. “What were you doing in there last night?” “I was training.” “Mhmm. And how could you tell she was on edge?” “Because she jumped when she saw me and again when I grabbed h-” Like synchronised dolphins, Clint and Sam's heads feel a push back as they cock their brow at the soldier while Steve reads the question in their eyes. His blank expression doesn't change as he continues to reason with them. “-her with her guard dow-” “You grabbed her.” “That's not-” “For all we know, she is traumatised right now.” “No, that's not- I walked her back to the rooms and she was f-” “Wait, a second,” Clint snaps out of a trance, “that's what Nat meant!” “What?” Sam looks at his friend to be more translative for the ones who don't speak arachnid. “Y/N's wearing Steve’s clothes. Look.” Suddenly your body feels a cold shiver run through you and like an instant reflex, you turn towards the three Avengers huddled together looking at you without any filter and all the while your fingers dig into the straps holding you in your seat. Clint waves at you and the smile on his face brings back the memory of the bizarre dream, forcing you to close your eyes and hold on to something tighter to curb growing nausea and the height catalysing the build up. “Rude,” Clint sings, feeling like your hands would rip off the handles on your side any moment because of the amount of virtue you are holding them with. “I have to say they seem to fit her quite well,” Sam chides before turning back to your shelled figure, his brows constricting as his eyes land on something out of the ordinary. “Yeah,” Clint agrees, nodding his head, “even the sweatpants. How can someone fit in your sweatpants, Captain?” Steve does nothing but inhale at the conversation unfolding around him while he readies himself for the landing. “Hey, Cap,” Sam whispers, his eyes not leaving you, “don't get me wrong but when you said you grabbed her, did you grab the back of her neck so hard that it would almost leave a deep bruise?” “For the last time, I did not grab her, I just caught her off-guard.” Steve turns back to Sam ready to question him if that's what he thought of him after all their time together but is stopped as Sam points towards you. “I believe you. But that wasn't there when we saw her last night.” Steve looks in the direction Sam's pointing in, his eyes finally submitting the purple and green bruise in the shape of two claw marks right below your ear that had been missed this morning when you were not wearing your hair in a ponytail. “It wasn't there when I last saw her either,” he finally manages to say, his eyes never leaving that disturbing mark. “What could possibly do that?” “Who could possibly do that?” __________ "Did you see what I saw today?" Tony brings up one of the two glasses of orange juice towards Natasha, getting a coy smile from the Black Widow in return as she turns back to rest her arms on the railings and take in the view of the facility's open grounds. "Oh, I definitely saw more than what you saw." Natasha clinked her glass with Tony's and took one good gulp to wash her throat. "If you're talking about the security feed from last night, Romanoff, you're clearly forgetting who designed the system of this facility." "You're never going to let me win, are you Stark?" Natasha scoffed. Tony shook his head with a smug look on his face as he gulped down his glass. "This is the first we've seen him to be invested in someone other than Bucky since..." "Yeah." A soft breeze passes through the grounds carrying the wet odour of the lake near them, the aroma of the wildflowers hanging heavy in the air. "He's been keeping tabs on her ever since she arrived here," Natasha finally adds. "Explains the casual glances he keeps throwing in her direction. I mean," Tony adds, tilting his glass now and then on the railing, "I thought it was pure human concern until I saw last night's feed. That was-" "Hot." "I was going to say quite out of character for the Captain but maybe not for Steve but I feel like you get me." Natasha nods and smiles. "I really hope one of them makes a move because both seem like dull idiots when it comes to talking about how they’re feeling and are really not good at hiding it either," she confirms and gets another clink on her glass. __________ "Of course I don't have decent clothes. I was dying two days ago. Fuck!" You look at the pile of clothes scattered over your bed, trying to justify taking as much of your favourite tattered tees that have seen you through your best and worst. This morning, Banner had been quite sure of the fact that he and Dr Cho were not sure how long would your tests take. Even Tony was insistent on keeping you at his facility for it being safer than the forest you are living in but something about the way he moved around you in the when you were having your breakfast made you wonder if this is the only reason for you to go there. Just a few moments later you hear a slight knock on your door and see Steve standing there, his hands resting in his jeans as he waits for your signal. "Hey, ca-Steve. Come on in." "Sam's patrolled the area. Everything seems all right. Is there anything we can help you with." You look around and wonder if there was something you could busy the men with when you saw Sam outside the French doors of your room, checking out your tool kit. "There is one thing," you answer Steve's question before getting up to slide open the door, bringing Sam's attention towards you, his hands never leaving the dense steel inside his hands. "I don't know how long I'll be gone and that cherry blossom needs to be planted before summer," you assert to your audience, who watch the tiny sapling sitting on the ground, the leaves starting to dry a little on their edges. "You want us to take it back to the facility?" Sam asks you. You shrug a little, about to ask them if it was okay. "Say no more," Clint announces as he picks up your gardening gloves and puts them on, "We could really use some pink back home." Sam and Clint busy themselves, forcing you and Steve to get back inside but not before you thank them enough. A silent moment passes between the two of you now that you stand alone inside your most private space. The natural light outside lights up Steve's features softly, teasing the colour in his eyes and the hues in his beard with the most gentle strokes. You take the moment when asking him to sit down in the loveseat to breathe in the softness- something completely different to what you's seen last night- before going back to pack your stuff. "Is everything alright, Y/N?" Steve finally speaks.

You look at him for one prolonged moment, not sure how to proceed with that question.

Alright? Hmm. Let's see. I got bit by an alien. I saw you nearly get eaten by some monstrosity, saw my own reflection turn into a monstrosity. Don't really know if that was a dream or some fucked up reality. And if that wasn't enough, I almost saw those two guys outside and you naked. AND I KISSED YOU! SO I AM NOT EVEN NEAR ALL RIGHT!! "Yeah. Everything's all right. Why do you ask?" "You didn't really give a reaction when Banner gave you the news about your body showing no signs of cancer." Sam and Clint's muffled voices from outside your door ring inside the room as you look at Steve's figure sitting opposite you, his arms resting over his knees as he leans towards you with nothing but pure concern in his eyes. A passing thought that has been running inside his mind becomes a suspicion as he sees you avert your gaze while your fingers play with the loose threads of your torn black tee. “Y/N…” your name in his husky whisper sends another shiver after his question. “My sister and her husband-” your fingers don't leave the threads- “were my only family. Stace was their child. I lost both of them in the…uh... Infinity War. That's what the news is calling it, right?” The tee changes a shade near your fingers as the wetness seeps through the cotton threads. It takes your hazy senses some time to register the warmth emanating beside you as the bed dips a little and the soft heat of a hand engulfs yours, the fingers folding around your palms. “I'm sorry.” “Me too.” The warmth fills up the silence in the room; the glow from Steve's palms entering yours to lull all those stretched chords inside you to chest after what seems like a painful eternity. “Steve,” you finally breathe his name, your comforted heart now beating fast again, “something has been...happening ever since I woke up yesterday.” Steve shifts a little where he sits to face you, making the beating heart pick up a little more speed as his curious face invites you for a full view while his hand is still holding yours. You take in one deep breath to keep your mind clear. And sane. “I have been having weird...really weird dreams. More like nightmares. And...um...I usually don't experience such...things. I-I might be experiencing some sort of post-trauma stress? I'm not sure.” Your voice wavers at the end, not knowing how to tell what you were being tortured with without spilling the details- those dark eyes terrorising you, sometimes with a blob of black hanging mid-air, other times as you, and then today as Steve. “Tony has a counselor and therapist in the facility. If you’d like…” Steve watches your free hand carefully rubbing away your tears, facing away from him before turning back with a smile. “Yes, I would. Thank you, Steve.” “That’s...Stacie's snack bar," you state to Clint- who immediately leaves the dog food and folds his arms to plant himself casually in your kitchen, clearly not happy- before opening your kitchen cabinet that stocks all your snacks and watch his gloomy grunt turn into starry eyes within seconds. Leaving the men with cold beer bottles and chips, you bring out your two bags from the room and place it near the door- to the porch at the back that gives quite a view of the Quinjet in your backyard- before turning to the table that houses all your keys and important documents. Where he stands, Clint can see your reflection in the mirror in front of you as you collect a few letters and some keys and start putting them in your purse. “Mmm! This beer tastes good! Why don't they have this in The States?” Sam announces, making him and Steve read the information on the label. “It's a local brand,” you mumble from where you stand, “If you want you can take some...or all back home. I've got three crates in the storage room. Down the corridor, second door.” Without another word, Sam gets up and goes to help himself while Steve picks up your bags and walks out to the ride home. Clint enjoys his beer and chips for as long as he can, that is, till you would chuck them out of your place. Suddenly a change in your expression in the mirror makes him stop doing everything. One of the keychains with a rogue metal shaving pierces through the skin around your fingers, forcing a little hiss and some blood out of you. Clint is about to get up and help you when your reflection stops him midway as your eyes suddenly turn pure black, making the archer grip on to his weapon sitting next to him on the table without his eyes leaving what he saw. And as you blink, the black void clears away from your sclera, leaving nothing but y/e/c orbs reflecting the sun outside while you stand there in a daze, looking at your untainted skin.

“What was I grabbing here-oh right! The keys!” Clint hears you say to yourself before you pack your purse and come back to him with a smile. “Want me to pack some of these for you for the way back?” You ask the archer, who- you are now convinced- just looks like that even when he's not in your dreams. “Oh, I got it. I'll just-” his hands pick up the packets of chips while his eyes are still glued to yours- “take these. Let's go, shall we?” You nod and lock behind Sam and Clint, the latter still doesn't leave your side. “I feel like I just hit a jackpot at a guessing game,” Sam cajoles as he takes away three boxes of beer stacked one above another, towards the Quinjet. “Yeah,” Clint murmurs, his gaze boring through the back of your head. “I feel like I hit a jackpot too.” TAGLIST

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[rowan-buzzard-whitethorn]

Are you still doing this? If yes, number 4 from that prompt list for Lysaedion. Thanks babe!

1. Thank you for being patient babe!!!!!!

2. I kind of took this off the rails… not really sure if this fits into what you may have had in mind for this prompt… I couldn’t help myself

Prompt: Lysaedion: We slept in the same bed for space reasons but now we’re just waking up and there’s something about your bleary eyes and mussed hair

She walked ahead of him, her boots squelching in the mud. The strut was… still almost perfect, even after riding through the night, setting up camp, and then strategizing and maneuvering with their allies all day and deep into the night. Torchlight reflected off the sodden blonde hair as she walked up to the her tent- no, their tent.

When they had set up camp here, the largest tent was obviously allocated to the queen, but by the miracle of their numbers, the field was packed with men using every scrap of supplies to maximize space. It was decided that he would need to stay in the royal tent, as the protective general cousin. He wasn’t sure where he would sleep, most likely on a tiny bed roll by the entrance. Like a guard dog.

As they reached the two guards stationed outside the large tent, she drawled to them, “I don’t care if Erawan himself is out here, you will not disturb this tent.” They affirmed the directive and held open the flaps to let them in. Heavy drops fell on his head as he ducked in and closed the flaps behind him.

She crossed over to the other side of their quarters to one of the basins set out for them on a low table. He turned his back to her and walked to his own basin, dunking his hands in the freezing water. He began the weary process of removing his armor, stripping to the waist and scrubbing his chest and arms vigorously and efficiently in the quiet. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that she had removed her outerwear and was down to a flowing undershirt, scrubbing her face and the back of her neck.

It had been a month. Two weeks at sea where he did everything possible to avoid her. Watching her nearly flawless impersonation of his cousin, and feeling like something rotten had taken hold deep inside him, something that festered. Two days before they had made port, she had come to his room to scold him. To say that he had to be better about his appearance in front of their allies and soldiers. That he had better start acting like the general he was. She had left the cabin after that.

In the days since, as they traveled north to Terrasen, he immersed himself in work. In organizing and plotting and formulating plans on how best to collaborate the various strengths of their allies to best serve them in the fighting that would begin very soon. He…adapted, as best he could, to taking orders from her; standing next to her as their group poured over maps, only being able to look her in the eye for brief moments to provide wisdom, or even make a cocky joke. He was the Wolf of the North again, the mask back on. He’d done it for 10 years, now it seemed this mask would be permanent. For the rest of his life.

He braced his hands on either side of the basin. His hair dripping around him as he hung his head.

He heard her voice pierce across the room. “We will have to talk about this at some point, Aedion.”

“There’s nothing worth saying.”

“Oh I think you have plenty of things you’d like to say.”

He sat in the nearest chair at the end of their small table, unlacing his tall boots. “I’m not doing this with you tonight. We need to sleep.”

“Yes, you are. We are going to fail if you can’t get your head out of your ass.”

He snarled. “You’re one to talk, Ae-” He sucked in a breath on a hiss and slammed his fist on the table. “Take her godsdamned face off.”

He saw a glow out of the corner of his eye and heard the chair on the opposite end of the table creak as she sat. He swallowed against the threat of fear as he looked up and saw green eyes instead of fire-ringed blue. Black hair instead of gold. He felt flooded by a thousand emotions, hardly able to discern them all. He settled on the one most readily available.

He forced his mouth to smirk. “Ah, there it is, her favorite mask.”

She kept her chin high, impervious. “Says the Bastard General incarnate.”

They stared at each other for a long, charged moment. Unblinking, a silent test to see who would break first. “Just say whatever other awful things you want to say to me so we can get this over with and I can go to bed. I’m sure you’ve got a whole list of other colorful names to call me. I’ve heard them all, Aedion. You cannot shock me with them.”

He wished he could savor the victory that she spoke first. Instead, he was transported back to that day on the beach. Reliving the sensation that had come over him, of the ground disappearing beneath him. He was hit by a wholly unwelcome sense of shame at what he had said to her. He was right in his anger at her. He shouldn’t be the one who was ashamed.

He broke eye contact, cursing, and looked down at his hands.  “I spent ten years of my life, ten long years, suffocating in guilt that I hadn’t saved her. That I had failed at the one thing I was supposed to do. To protect her. And now…” He hated the crack in his voice. The way his hands became blurry beneath him. He shoved away from the table, pacing the room as the rain above them grew heavier, creating a symphony of loud taps on the tents roof.

“She didn’t trust me,” he blurted. It hadn’t been what he meant to say.

“She did trust you. But you would have stopped her.”

“You’re godsdamned right I would have!” His anger came back full force as he shoved the other emotions away. “She should have relied on her court. Trusted us to help her, to find a way. To do something. Instead she planned on doing everything herself, as always. And you did nothing!” Tears were streaming down his face now, unbidden. “Both of you relegating all of us to pretending for the rest of our lives- for Rowan to be haunted by the face of his dead mate, and for me to trade places with Rowan in your bed on the nights that an heir needed siring.”

She stood up, stopping close to snarl in his face, but tears were brimming in her eyes as well. “Don’t you dare act like this doesn’t hurt me too. Like this is easy for me. As if I am not equally as heartbroken and scared as you are. We had to be ready to do what needed to be done.”

He held up a finger. ”One thing. The only thing I asked of you was honesty. We had a right to know.”

“I pledged my loyalty to her. I made a promise. And there was nothing you could have done.”

He sat heavily on the bed, the closest object to catch him. He put his elbows to his knees and rested his forehead in his palms. “Lysandra, she’s the only family I have left,” he choked on the words. “And now that witch has her.”

Lysandra sat further up the mattress, keeping a distance between them. “She was the first true friend I ever had. I love her. There is not a second that goes by that I don’t anguish over what’s happening to her.”

He glanced over at her in time to watch a tear drip off the end of her nose. Her chin was quivering. He couldn’t stop himself from scooting closer to her, brushing a tear off her cheek with his knuckles. She looked over to him, shocked by the gesture. “Do you remember what you told me? That day on the deck? When I asked you how you handle the fear of losing the people you love?”

He remembered, but a part of him didn’t want to say those words again.

“I said that you had to face it. That there was no other choice.” He took in a deep breath. “That you couldn’t let it destroy you.”

Another traitorous tear slid down his cheek as she looked at him. She put a hand on the back of his neck, drawing him in, putting his head on her shoulder. His arms wrapped around her, realizing how badly he’d needed this human comfort. She spread her fingertips through his hair, rubbing the base of his skull, and he buried his face into her neck, squeezing her closer and rubbing her back. The tears he felt wet his hair made him realize how badly she had needed this as well; how long she had carried this burden, this knowledge, alone. Playing a role she had no way to be prepared for.

He pulled back, placing his hands on either side of her face. “I’m sorry, Lysandra. I’m sorry for the terrible things I said to you that day. For the weight that you’ve carried alone.” She squeezed her eyes shut, more tears flowing, and he tucked her against his chest. They remained like that for immeasurable minutes, rocking back and forth with him whispering I’m sorry’s into her hair.

He didn’t know who initiated it, but somehow they ended up laying down together, facing each other with their hands tangled together. They simply stared at each other, unable and unwilling to form words, and he hoped against hope that there was something else out there for them. Something beyond this war.

He woke to the sounds of dawn. There were few people awake yet at this hour, but he could hear them across the camp, hear the birds beginning to chirp, coming out after a night of rain. Sunlight filtered in through the smoke hole in the middle of the tent, and with it, he took her in. They had fallen asleep still huddled close together, their knees touching. Her face had gotten closer to his in the night, and he leaned back only far enough that he could see all of her face in clearer detail. Her face was smooth like glass and was entirely clear save for three or four dark freckles that were dotted across her skin, one placed right at the corner of her jaw. He could see the slight swelling on her eyelids from the tears she’d shed last night. Her dark hair had a streak of sunlight across it that made the strands glow a deep brown.

It was while he was admiring that streak of sunlight that she slowly opened her eyes. He wondered if the fragile peace they had found would collapse under a new day, or if she would pull away from the notion of waking up to a man in her bed. She didn’t move though. She just watched him as he had watched her, perhaps also afraid to break the silence cocooning them. He decided to test the waters.

“Well this is far better than waking up to a snoring soldier.”

She smiled. “I should have let you wake up to the ghost leopard.” She still had a slight curve to her lips, and he watched as his hand moved to brush his thumb on the edge of it. He looked up to her eyes and felt the air shift in the room. There was still some of that heaviness from last night, and he could see her mind taking on the weight of another day. He wanted to do anything in his power to hold off that weight, if just for a moment. His hand stilled on her cheek. “You won’t find me complaining. I distinctly remember the leopard nuzzling my neck.”

Their heads had somehow gotten closer again, and he couldn’t stop glancing down at her full lips. When he looked up again he saw that she was glancing down as well, at his mouth. “Lys-” he started, but couldn’t finish, because she’d leaned in and every thought went out of his head. But at the last moment, she dragged her cheek across his, rubbing her face into his neck just like she had had that day.

He let out a startled laugh, the sound cracked from disuse. She had been about to stand up, but he had instinctively put his hands on her hips and she stilled. She was still slightly over him, looking down on him. Something vulnerable crossed her features before she leaned in again. This time, she didn’t turn away and the touch of her lips, light as a feather against his own, made an unnamable type of agony pass through him. He held her head, making the kiss linger before she pulled back.

“We have to win, Aedion. Whatever it takes.”

“Lysandra, I’ll march through hell if I have to.”

[shhhselah]

The Pride & Worship of Life

Tuesday, November 17, 2020

12:33pm

Comparison is the idolizing of creation over Creator.

Yikes. Jumping right in, aren’t we?

Selah.

Take some time to prepare your heart & sit before God. Now, when He’s given you the go, continue-

*This post is not to discredit the existence of mental illness or PTSD which creates & perpetuates these habits/mindsets in us, but it is simply to educate- spiritually- about the issue of Comparison & its roots.

Now, allow me to say it again, Comparison is the idolizing (worship) of creation over Creator. 

You worship others or even yourself, but begin to trust, disbelieve, dislike & even hate the Crafter.

You reverence & love the one, yet despise the Other for not creating you the same. (Matthew 6:24) You worship- in awe- the creation, setting up a pillar to offer incense of adoration. Yet your heart grows bitter, doubtful & resentful towards the Creator for not making you the same. For not molding you as you believe He should have. You judge Him for poor use of His time & supposed sovereignty. You accuse Him of carelessly using His time, putting you & your life together haphazardly. You question what you feel you lack in comparison to them- exasperated that He as God should have known better during the drafting process. You belittle His wisdom & intelligence, surely He should have taken into account the various factors of "such a time as this," to have better formed, equipped & provided for you. We place His other handiwork on a pedestal & worship its beauty, its flawless skin, colored eyes, long hair, favorable figure, fabulous clothes, excess wealth, stunning vacations, spare time, skills & talents & on & on & on. Or, Possibly you stand at the opposite extreme- where you haughtily applaud the Lord for His diligent use of time in crafting you. Perhaps, you are one of the many who have fallen into a nature of pride, arrogance, loftiness. You may even be unaware of it, simply seeing yourself as faultlessly confident, and that's what God wants for His children, isn't it? For them to be content, in love, thoroughly thankful for His "handiwork?" You may feel, "I am only acknowledging that I am fearfully & wonderfully made." And if that, my friend, is your sincere heart, then Amen. What a blessing. However, I'd raise to you to venture out & seek the Creator's verification that your heart posture is truly that of reverence for Him & not for you. Allow me to elucidate, I can tell you that Ezekiel 28 reveals to us that Lucifer's (Satan) fall was because of Pride. The kind of pride that was birthed from falling in love with himself. Utterly. He was created to reflect the glory of God. He was made of every kind of beautiful stone & gem, & crafted into his physical make-up, was also piping, as he himself was made to not simply orchestrate, but create beautiful melodies of praise & worship unto the Most High.

Yet... What went wrong, was that Lucifer began to believe that the beauty of his countenance- the sparkle, shimmer, brilliance of his being as he reflected the very majesty of God- was because of his own doing, his own nature & being. Hubris. It escaped him, that without the magnificence of God's beauty to shine upon him, he had no light, there was no brilliance, & his “splendor," disappeared. He was merely another object left in a dark closet- dull & purposeless. Lucifer became so entranced by the way his body responded aglow to the presence of God, he became so drunk with the power of witnessing how the worship he created & conducted moved the beings of Heaven, that he became utterly convinced that he himself was not just God, but higher. He was so utterly convinced, he began- for an unknowable length of time- to conspire against God within His own ranks, seeking allegiance with fellow angelic beings. He meticulously went about convincing them that he was truly higher than the King of kings they lived eternally to worship & serve. He was successful in what was an ultimate misleading- he officially recruited 1/3 of Heaven to revolt against God, in conviction that the wrong Being was on the throne. "Pride goes before destruction & a haughty spirit before a fall (*stumble)." Proverbs 16:18 In brevity, I'll tell you that Lucifer met his "destruction," in being utterly cast from Heaven, evicted from the presence, glory & true splendor of God- & so became Satan. And as for his followers (the 1/3 of Heaven), they became the very demons tormenting us, our families & the world as we have & currently do know it today. Why is this story important? It is the danger of self. Of pride. Of Idolatry. Idolatry is the act of placing another object or being before/above God & worshipping it. How many things do we place before God in our lives? Our jobs, money (Matthew 6:24), our partners, our dreams, friends, family, school, sex, habits & addictions, zodiacs, our indulgences & desires. We place things on a pedestal constantly! We seek them for security, protection, validation, love, understanding, confidence, power, purpose, wisdom, advice, direction, income, success. We have replaced God with so much. And sometimes, we put ourselves on the throne. We lean on our own wisdom & understanding, we pursue our desires, fulfill our plans, suffer for our dreams but not His purpose, marry & date who we see fit, hustle & grind to “make it happen by our d*** selves," lavish ourselves, pray to & answer ourselves, consult ourselves & the list goes on. Some of us search all our lives to fall in love with ourselves. Some of us spend all our lives in love with ourselves. In the latter, like Lucifer, you have fallen in love with "your splendor," worshipping your beauty & solidness of character, praising yourself, your talents, determination, strength & resilience. You toss measly claps at God for "doing His thang." You exalt yourself above others, putting them down or simply questioning how they could ever “compete.” Your admiration is not in that the perfect, sovereign, eternal God knew you before He formed you, & then with all love, purpose & attention, crafted you with the intimate knowledge & will He had for you. No, your admiration is, “How could something this divine exist?" Rather than, "I am formed by the Divine Himself."

May the twinkle in your eye at yourself be the admiration of knowing you are touched by the Most High, but not that you yourself are the touch. Be careful, family. The search for self & self love can be dangerous. It is only natural to want to know more about your time on this planet & how you connect to history or other parts of the world through purpose or genetics, but remember that you are not just here- you were placed. God placed each one of us in a specific space & place in time, for a reason. We do right to seek the Creator & His purpose for us, one that lays into an extraordinary plot that has been at work since before the foundations of the world. My dear, it is simply not about us you & never has been. Neither yourself nor I, dear darling. It is & has always been about the Creator. Seek His face, not your own. You will never know why you are here if you do not acquaint yourself to the One who purposefully placed you here. May we never feel that humans are the most important factor in this plot. That perfectly rounds us back to Insecurity, Pride & Arrogance, which are the Idolizing Worship of Humans. Let us remember that Idolatry is the practice of placing, worshipping & exalting something or someone before, above or instead of God.  Idolatry in itself is a horror, mistake, sin & blasphemy. A provocation of the Lord's anger. He speaks of the a multitude of times throughout the Old & New Testaments. In Romans 1:25, He specifically rebukes the act of "worshipping & serving the creature rather than the Creator who is blessed forever. Amen." In the space of Insecurity, Arrogance & Pride, we look to the creation to govern how the Creator should rule. We begin to believe fellow man is the end goal, the aspiration, leaving behind that God set the goal long before we existed in the Commandments & later, Christ. We begin to exalt man to the deity of "God," "god," or "Goddess" rather than servant. We fail to acknowledge or realize that the title or authority of being a small god is only through what Jesus secured for us. We place our fellow beings or ourselves on a throne & bow down to them in the form of endless scrolling, RTs, saved screenshots that we pine over & pick at ourselves because of, photoshopping our images to look like them, STAN culture, vision boards that leave us wallowing in pity & self hate, vanity that utterly consumes us with our image constantly, etc. We worship them in awe & covetousness, desiring who they are, what they have, what they do, what they look like, where they're from, how they live, how they talk, what degrees they have, the list goes on. We allow them to inspire & stir a worship of both them & ourselves in the form of inferiority, insecurity, inadequacy, resentment, self consciousness, pride, bitterness, discontentment, arrogance, hubris, entitlement, loathing, envy, depression. The center of our attention in all of these- is us & them. What we lack, what they have- what they lack, what we have. All of this, darlings, utterly takes the attention off of who this whole thing is about- God. Our Father in Heaven. The Most High. Emmanuel. YHWH.

All of these demonic & evil reactions place us in a position of lowliness or superiority before others. They make us feel beaten down or built up about ourselves. And we harp all day everyday about how much less we are than others or how much greater we are than others. Instead of Confidence & Humility in, through & before God, you have been walking in Hubris or Insecurity. Both of them a constant state of self consciousness- an utter awareness & focus on self. A care & concern of self. This is how Satan fell. These states of being define you & your movement in the world. You're not just humble. You're insecure. That's why you won't accept compliments or "praise." Or, you’re prideful. You fake it because that's what people like to see & you know how to play the role. You're not just meek. You're terrified of the world & those in it, seeing everything as a danger to your mental, emotional & physical stability. So you stay quiet & agreeable. You're not just gracious- You're people pleasing. You'll do anything to get their validation, likes, smiles, attention. Maybe you're too scared of disappointing them to say, "No," or maybe you have a hidden agenda because every opportunity can be used to serve yourself. You're not just easy to get along with- you're just hiding by fitting the mold. Fitting in to get on. You fear rejection. You hate tension. You're not just charming. You're manipulative. You know exactly what to say or do to ace people's approval, avoid conflict, or get what you want out of them. You're not just being honest; you're defensive & throwing it all out there to control reactions to you & rejection of you. You don't wanna be hurt, so you make sure to get the jump on them. This allows you to be transparent without vulnerability; for you to say no to them before they can say no to the most fragile parts of you.

You're not just helpful; you don't know how to say "No." You were rebuked, scolded, bullied, raped for saying, "No." It's transformed you into a, "Yes man." Or, you feel pridefully that you're the only one who can do the job "right." You're not brave; you just don't feel like you have anything to lose anymore. Or, you feel unstoppable, invincible, the greatest there is.

You're not at peace; you're numb. You're self medicating. You don't acknowledge hurt, weakness or areas needing growth- it's for losers, you have no time, there's nothing wrong with you anyways. We turn to others or ourselves & worship- idolize. In this, the devil has molded, contorted, & permanently twisted us out of a godly shape through shame in being who, where, what & how we are. He has inflated some of us with a boastfulness & love for "self" that pits you against the Sovereignty of Most High. The way we move in this world is more influenced by people than God, the posture of our motivations one of worship to satan. If we could see some of ourselves in the spirit, we'd look like the bent over woman whom Jesus touched in Luke 13:12-13. She was bent over 18 years & couldn't stand up in any way.

Some of us have been bent over in the demonic driven posture of envy, hate, insecurity, rejection, discontentment & depression for 18 years now. For 4 years or 12 years or 37 years. All because of comparison. Some of us are as inflated as Lucifer in Ezekiel 28. Think about your goals. So many want to be the best at what they do. Some don't believe they can or deserve the best of anything. Selah. Ask yourself, dear one. Why? The Scriptures tell us that we are to be excellent in that which we do. 1 Peter 2:12 1 Corinthians 12:31 Philipians 4:8 For we serve an excellent God (1 Peter 2:9) & are meant to be a representation of such excellence (Colossians 3:23-24). Whatever we do, we are meant to do in fullness of heart as unto Him. So ask yourself, does your motivation for greatness have anything to do with Him? Are you working as unto the excellency of the Lord, or are you setting up monuments, legacy, notoriety & infamy for your own self & name?

Do you want His name to be remembered through you when you go, or yours? Are you here for clout, or do you want to use every last breath pointing back to the One who gave it all? And for those who suffer with smallness, worthlessness, unbelief- what is behind this? Who told you that you did not deserve the best? God gave you His very best when He sent His only Son & unleashed the fullness of His wrath upon Him. Revelations & 2 Kings shows us how Satan tried to devour the seed of David that his lineage (prophesied to give way to the birth of the Messiah), would end far before Jesus came. Satan sent fear into King Herod, who called for every male baby under 2 to be murdered across the lands. Again, even after His birth, satan was trying to foil the unfolding of God's best for you. He tried to tempt Jesus in the desert without success, so that Jesus could sin & forfeit His role as Messiah. God ensured, protected & saw through to completion His very best for you.

Do not be dejected & downcast in your motivations & aspirations. Do not refuse prophecy or exhortation in unworthiness. Do not reject your mantle in fear & unworthiness. Do not pray small. Do not avoid disappointment by practicing hopelessness.

Do not refuse what God tells you to save face & rely on yourself to protect your heart.

God is the Lover & Mender of that heart, dear baby. Likewise, to those who assume they are entitled to all the riches God has to give, humble yourselves before Him as Jesus says in Luke 14:7-11: "So He told a parable to those who were invited, when He noted how they chose the best places, saying to them: 8 “When you are invited by anyone to a wedding feast, do not sit down in the best place, lest one more honorable than you be invited by him; 9 and he who invited you and him come and say to you, ‘Give place to this man,’ and then you begin with shame to take the lowest place. 10 But when you are invited, go and sit down in the lowest place, so that when he who invited you comes he may say to you, ‘Friend, go up higher.’ Then you will have glory in the presence of those who sit at the table with you. 11 For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” Do not assume God's plans for you are luxury, riches, fame, notoriety, convenience & constant spoils. That they are to fulfill your every demand. His call may, for you, to be a hidden figure history will never know outside of the ones He called you to impact. We do not know God's master plan, so assume yourself neither to be a grand plot not a brief mention.

We are here as a part of His plan, not our own. We are all meant to shine for the glory of God yet pale in holy comparison to only Him. The only throne we are ever supposed to look to is God's, my darling. The only image that should ever make us to feel small, inferior, inadequate & humble is that of the glory of God. The only boasting we should have is in our weakness & the might of Jehovah. If we are to feel unworthy, may it be a natural reaction to the deep love of the Cross. If we are to revere anyone, it should be Jesus. If we are to doubt or question anyone, it should be the enemy & creation. May we never put God on trial in a trick of the enemy. Repent for coming against your Maker. Accept forgiveness. Bind every demon in the name of Jesus that has contorted your very nature into a satanic posture of worship through Comparison in the various forms of: Insecurity, Envy, Depression, Resentment towards God & others, Unforgiveness towards God, Hate, Discontentment, Rejection, Inadequacy, Low Self Esteem, Self Consciousness, Inferiority, Suicidal, Hubris, Gloating, Superiority, Vanity, etc. Loose yourself in the name of Jesus of every habit, mindset & way of operating adopted & created that came with those demons & their influence in the form of- Distance, Refusal to form Relationships, Isolation, Self Medicating, Addictions, Endless Scrolling, Nit Picking at yourself & others, Self Harm, Suicide, Refusal to Trust, Refusal to Accept Compliments, Refusing to Acknowledge Feelings or Care, Self Blame, Refusal to Accept Help/Support, People Pleasing, Deflecting, Rebellion Against Authority, Bullying, Fighting, Recklessness, Selfishness, Greed, Hoarding, Vain Ambition, etc. Renounce every Vow in the name of Jesus- both spoken & unspoken- you made that came from those things: vows to always rely on yourself, vows to never accept compliments, to always have enough money, to never have kids, to never be like "them," to always work harder than everybody else, etc. There are vows you made to yourself in hurt, anger, or arrogance, & they are a sin. They are mindsets, principles you have called your own self to worship, bow down, follow & adhere to. 

They have shaped your life: your interactions, relationships, & perspectives. It is time to let them die & live only by the authority, Word & Spirit of the Most High.

For too long you have operated in the power of your own resources, strength, understanding, belief, desires, opinion, etc, all because of how you saw yourself, others & through that- God. You let others become God. You let yourself become God. He is a jealous God. He does not share. He does not submit. Free yourself from ever worshipping creation over Creator through worshipping the perceived lowliness or highness of yourself. Restore yourself to trusting in God alone, resting in His majesty. Our eyes are to be on the Father of Heaven, dear baby. Not on what we perceive we lack, what others have or what we want & have ourselves. But let us look to the Rivers of Living Waters, the Fount that won't run dry. Listen to this song & bask in the Creator who made you fearfully, wonderfully, intentionally, patiently, carefully, lovingly, devotedly, for such a time as this ♥️

Selah.

Matthew 6:24 Esther 4:14 Luke 13:10-17 Psalm 139 Jeremiah 1:5

"I Am Loved/There Is Nothing Better" Maverick City Music feat. Naomi Raine