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loguetowns · 1 year

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the one that (almost) got away

roronoa zoro x fem!reader

it takes him 12 hours to realize

3.6k words

a/n: ok listen, i think i started writing this like 6+ months ago and it’s just been sitting in my drafts bc idk how to commit to endings so y’all are gonna have to take this as it is. also i have no concept of how sailing works or how long it takes oops

9:00 pm

“y'know, there's really no point to a farewell party if the one leaving isn't there.”

you look up from your spot on the library floor. your eyes land on the green-haired swordsman leaning against the doorframe and you smile.

“i’ll be there in a second. i just have some more stuff to go through.”

zoro eyes the mess of books surrounding you, recognizing a few of nami’s atlases and robin’s textbooks. “you haven’t finished packing yet?”

“i’m mostly done. i’m just trying to decide which books i want to keep.” catching his eye, you joke, “why? you want me gone that bad?”

crossing the room, a scoff leaves his lips. nothing could be further from the truth.

“you got me. i am so sick of you,” he says with a grin. “can’t wait to get rid of the annoying librarian invading my napping spot.”

zoro plops down on the bench behind you, catching a whiff of your shampoo as he lies down. you sit with your back to him, sorting through your piles, but zoro can hear the smile in your voice when you speak.

“you’re such a pretender, eh?”

zoro puts on a look of overdramatic offense, a hand on his chest. “me? you’re talking about me?”

at his poor acting, you turn around. you rest your chin on the bench, your face so close to zoro’s that one could only describe it as a kissable distance.

“you act like i'm all in your space, but nami told me that you never used to spend any time in here at all!”

“pfft, why would you ever trust what that con artist has to say?” zoro pokes your forehead. “you see it with your own eyes. am i or am i not here every day?”

you purse your lips as you think back to the last few months; he’s right.

you’ve spent most of your days in the ship’s library, and zoro has almost always stopped by. in the beginning, it would be for a few minutes, but over the last little while, he’d be in here as long as you were.

zoro smiles as he watches you think, eyebrows furrowed as you replay the last few months in your head. little do you know that this is exactly why the library is his new hideout. watching your pretty little mind work — doing what you love, thinking and studying and reading — is a far better use of his spare time than anything else he could be doing.

“anyway,” he says. “i guess your silly star stories have been a good trade-off.”

now it’s your turn to be mock-offended.

“silly star stories? you’re the one who asked about the constellations in the first place!”

“only because you kept talking about these fictional gods like they actually did something important.”

“says the guy who's completely enthralled by hades,” you roll your eyes.

“king of hell, god of the underworld,” he grins. “that’s my kinda guy.”

zoro laughs when you shake your head at him. he’ll never tire of teasing you; you are far too adorable with your little sigh and a ghost of a smile on your lips.

“did you know,” he says with a playful look. “that you still owe me about ten more constellation stories? d’you think you could squeeze in one more before we head up?”

zoro smiles at you, and you can't help but smile back.

you have so many treasured memories with zoro in this library; ones of just the two of you (him napping while you studied), ones with nami and robin (and sanji until nami kicked the boys out for their incessant bickering), and ones where the night listens in as you recite the history of the stars.

whether you were telling the story of another righteous deity enacting justice, or the tale of mere mortals who insulted the gods, zoro would listen with his eyes closed, lying across the bench as he is now, and you’d sit in front of him as you are now.

everyone’s waiting for you upstairs and you hate to disappoint, but some things are more important — like telling a silly star story to a silly swordsman.

“of course i can.”

12:00 am

raucous laughter and cheering that’s loud enough to deafen anybody; empty plates, once piled high with food, now scattered around the room; bottles on bottles of sake and rum and whiskey and every liqueur that one would hope to find on a pirate ship.

these are zoro’s requirements for a good time, and suffice to say that your farewell party has them all in spades.

zoro watches his friends’ tomfoolery from his spot at the table (currently, luffy’s trying to get franky to see how far he can slingshot him) when you plop yourself into the seat beside him.

“this,” you say as your arm knocks against his, “is the best party i’ve ever been to.”

zoro takes a swig from his glass, “you haven’t partied until you’ve partied with pirates.”

“seriously! you guys are insane!”

as if to prove your point, franky chooses that exact moment to show off a juggling sequence involving a barrel of whiskey, a giant potted plant, and a squealing chopper.

you gasp at the spectacle but quickly dissolve into laughter when nami saves chopper, and it’s with both awe and pure excitement that you turn to zoro. laughter is etched into your lips, your cheeks are flushed, and zoro can’t help but marvel at how you’re even cuter when you’re having fun.

“what, you’ve never seen a cyborg man toss a speaking reindeer in the air before?”

you nudge him with your elbow, “well, excuse me for leading such a mundane life where animals don’t speak and men don’t tinker with their bodies.”

“ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.”

you look at zoro quizically.

he takes a sip of his beer, “most men do tinker with their bodies.”

it takes you a moment to catch his innuendo and zoro roars with laughter when the realization hits you. embarrassment tinges your pretty face and you shove him with a loud “ew, zoro!” but he can’t stop cackling.

“you’re disgusting!”

you make to swat zoro across the chest but he quickly catches your hand. he leans in to waggle his eyebrows at you, “but i’m not wrong, am i?”

you groan loudly, which only makes him laugh again.

perhaps it’s the alcohol that let his inhibitions go, or maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t have much longer with you, but when you hastily change the subject and there’s no longer a reason for him to still be holding your hand, he doesn’t let go.

when nami joins you two, his fingers slips between yours and to his surprise, yours do the same. sanji joins your threesome, then franky and robin, and in no time at all, it’s no longer just the two of you at the table.

but zoro doesn’t care.

drunk, carefree, and more content than he’s ever been, zoro closes his eyes and smiles. he lives in the moment, and in this moment, he’s happy — happy with a full stomach and a full glass, happy to be surrounded by his favourite people, and happy that, under the table, you’re still holding his hand.

3:00 am

“and what’s that one?”

hands swinging between you, you and zoro dodge the tide as you roam further and further from the thousand sunny. the sand is cool under your feet and the tide kisses your toes with each step. your other arm is stretched above you, pointing at a constellation in the distance.

“what is this - a pop quiz?”

you smile, “i want to make sure you don’t forget about my ‘silly star stories.’”

zoro groans, “has anyone told you that holding grudges isn’t healthy? keeping going and you’ll turn into a bitter old thing some day.”

you stick out your tongue, “you’re just afraid you’ll get it wrong.”

“wrong?” zoro scoffs. “i’ve gotten the past six right.”

walking along the beach, you and zoro fall in step with each other and your footsteps match the ebbing waves in perfect rhythm. you smile in his direction and his chest is flooded with a warmth that has nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he’s consumed.

“alright, let’s see what we got here.”

zoro follows your gaze at the cluster of stars you’ve chosen, and he grins when he sees the constellation. “really? at least try to make this hard for me, please.”

his cocky attitude leaves you speechless, making zoro laugh.

“you’re so annoying!” you shove him with your free hand and the force of his stumble pulls you along, and you shriek as he drags you into the ocean with him. he doesn’t let go of you, not even for a second — not when water splashes your legs, not when zoro’s pants get soaked as he spins you around.

your laughter is warmth in its purest form, the kind that you can feel all the way down to your cold toes. when he sets you back down, you give his hand a little squeeze, to which zoro answers back with a tender smile.

now with wet feet and a distance between you that’s even smaller than it already was, zoro continues to walk alongside you.

“moving on from your pathetic distraction attempt,” — you let out a dramatic gasp — “i’ll tell you exactly who we were looking at.”

pointing at the starry zodiac sign, zoro speaks with complete confidence.

“virgo the maiden, otherwise known as persephone, wife and muse of the best god of them all, hades—”

“fanboy much?” you tease but zoro pretends not to hear you (the little tug of his lips tells you that he does).

“—who snuck her a pomegranate seed because he couldn’t bear for her to leave him.”

zoro puffs his chest with pride, relishing in this one niche study of which he is now an expert. it’s incredibly endearing how pleased he is with his answer and you almost feel bad for correcting him.

almost.

“good answer,” you grin. “but you left out the little detail about how she was kept in hell against her will.”

zoro gasps, “are you accusing my idol of being a kidnapper?”

“your idol!” your cheeks already hurt so much from smiling but another giggle slips out. “first of all, these aren’t my accusations. historians have told their love story this way for years—”

“slander is what this is.”

“—and secondly, why would you want to look up to hades? he’s literally the antagonist in every story.”

“he’s the king of hell! that’s so bad ass.” zoro winks at you, “don’t be surprised if you hear them calling me ‘zoro, king of hell’ some day.”

“what’s wrong, demon of east blue doesn’t go hard enough for you?”

embarrassment rushes to zoro’s face and he’s never been more grateful for the night. “who told you that? was it usopp or nami? i bet it was nami.”

“i might hold a grudge but i don’t snitch,” you flash a mischievous smile. “anyway, let’s get back to how you want to be just like devil who tricked a poor girl in returning to the underworld.”

“come on, can you blame a man for doing whatever it takes to stop his beloved from leaving him?”

it sounds like an innocent question — harmless banter, really — but something in the way he says it makes you stop dead in your tracks. a silence falls and in its wake, all you can do is stare at the man you’ve spent the last several months with, the same man that you have to say goodbye to tomorrow.

moonlight falls unto the both of you and bathes zoro in soft light. it illuminates his eyes and when you meet his gaze, you see a sense of longing there that you feel in your chest. a longing for what, you don’t know — or rather, you don’t want to know.

at least, not yet.

so you hold his hand a little tighter, and underneath the watchful eye of the gods and constellations, muster a smile,

“i guess not.”

6:00 am

if this was any other morning, zoro would be awake and working out already. he'd be done his fourth set of bicep curls or, at the very least, working on his form. he could even be in the middle of deadlifts (because he knows not to skip leg day), but he definitely wouldn't still be in bed the way that he is right now.

the thing is though, if this was any other morning, he wouldn't have you sleeping next to him, curled into him like you were made to be a perfect fit.

he's never been more glad to still be in bed.

your breath matches the rise and fall of zoro's chest, perfectly in rhythm with the waves outside his window and the beat of his heart, like the universe meant for all these things to be in harmony at this one singular moment in time.

your lashes flutter in response when he shifts his weight.

he takes a peek at you, “psst, are you awake?”

eyes still closed, you manage a noncommittal grunt but your body says otherwise.

zoro can’t help but smile as he watches you start to wake up. your toes wiggle beneath the covers and you rub your eyes before looking up at him with an adorably sleepy look that he would love to wake up to every day.

if only he could.

you focus your gaze on zoro like he’s an anchor in a sea of slumber. the way that you look at him, as if he’s the only thing that you see, fills his chest with a golden warmth akin to the breaking dawn.

you offer him a soft smile, and zoro wonders if the sun knows that you glow brighter than it ever could.

“why are you up at this ungodly hour?”

he chuckles, low and tender, “’m used to it. i’m usually up by now.”

“freak,” you mutter. zoro laughs, and you can’t think of anything else that sounds more beautiful at six in the morning.

you’re not usually up this early but what you notice is that, at dawn, time has a habit of moving slowly. it’s as if the morning casts magic upon those who rise with the daylight — and you’re so thankful for that.

because if time moved any faster than this, you’d have to say goodbye that much sooner.

“are you going to miss us?” zoro puts his arms around you.

you murmur into his chest, “of course, i will.”

“who do you think you’ll miss the most?”

you give pause and zoro’s almost certain you can hear his heart beating a little louder — he can definitely hear it. he doesn’t typically get nervous like this but, then again, nothing about the way you make him feel is typical.

you seem to have come to a conclusion because you look up at zoro and he holds his breath.

“sanji.”

he blinks.

“wait, are you serious?”

you’ve never seen zoro looks so wonderfully scandalized before, and you burst into a fit of giggles. as soon as you start, he knows he’s been had. he scowls but only for a moment; for who could be upset in the presence of such twinkling laughter?

“silly man,” you snuggle closer, "of course i’m not serious.”

“okay, good.” you can hear the smile in his voice. “i don’t know if my ego could handle losing to him.”

zoro holds you close, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. his movements are slow, steady, comforting — ‘round and ‘round, in the same spot, like he’s drawing an invisible mark that is only known to the two of you.

"but, you know,” you hum, careful not to disrupt the peace. “you wouldn’t.”

“wouldn’t what?”

“lose.” and after a beat, you quietly add, “you wouldn’t lose to anyone.”

and just like that, zoro’s on cloud nine, airborne and weightless. he’s always known that he has a place in your heart, but this is the first time that you’ve ever hinted about where that place may be. if he allowed himself to be hopeful, it almost sounds like a confession.

but almost isn’t good enough for him. zoro wants more — wants to find out exactly where he belongs in your life, wants to know if he can make himself at home there.

it’s a shame that he’s out of time.

you interrupt his thoughts with a whisper, barely audible above the sound of the ocean and his aching heart,

“will you miss me?”

more than anything.

9:00 am

surely, zoro’s dream to be hades has been granted. otherwise, why would it feel like he’s in hell, standing on the deck, all alone and watching your dinghy sail away from the thousand sunny?

zoro’s had his fair shares of farewells while aboard the ship, and to be honest, yours wasn’t any more emotional than anyone else’s. you left with a smile as beautiful as the morning sun and with far less tears than he expected (which he’s thankful for because he would hate to see you cry). as far as bittersweet goodbyes go, yours was definitely more sweet than bitter.

and yet, here zoro stands, with a bad taste in his mouth that he can’t explain. he can still see you from where he stands, and watching your little boat in the distance is the only thing that seems to settle his uneasy heart.

should he have bid adieu privately? maybe he should’ve left you with a memento of some kind? should he have done more than offer you a quick hug? was it his imagination, or did you hold onto him just a beat longer than you needed to?

zoro’s so occupied by these messy thoughts that he doesn’t even hear sanji approach him.

“well?”

startled, zoro can only stare at the blond cook. ignoring the dumb look on his face, sanji continues.

“what’d she say when you told her?” sanji nods in the direction of your boat.

“told her what?”

“that you love her,” sanji takes a drag of his cigarette, looking at zoro directly now.

he speaks so frankly, so matter-of-fact and candidly, that it takes zoro a second to really register what it is that he’s saying.

he loves you.

and as soon as he thinks it, the truth comes barreling through all the doubts clouding his head. clarity floods his chest as he comes face-to-face with what his yearning, pining heart has been trying to tell him this whole time.

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you-

fuck.

he loves you.

and he never told you.

epilogue — 9:30 am

sails closed, your boat floats with the current and the salty breeze reminds you that your adventure with the strawhats has come to a close. compared to the never-ending bustle of the crew, it’s almost too quiet being at sea alone. the silence lends itself to your overactive mind, working full time to unravel the tightness you feel in your chest.

you’re lost in thoughts of what could’ve, should’ve, and would’ve been — so much so that you don’t even hear the commotion behind you. it’s not until you hear zoro call your name that you hear the frantic swimming and you whirl around.

“zoro! what-”

“can you help me first?” he splutters.

you pull yourself together long enough to run to the side of your dinghy, pulling a sopping wet pirate on board. zoro leans back, trying to catch his breath as you rummage through your things.

“are you crazy? do you know how far we are from the sunny?” you throw a towel over him before reaching for another. you start drying off his hair, frantically fussing over him.

“you think that just because chopper gives you the clearance that you can push yourself over the limit-”

“y/n.”

“this is why you’re always on house arrest! you’re actually insane, you know that?”

“y/n.”

“i know you work out, but for goodness’ sake, zoro, you’re only human-”

“y/n.” zoro holds your wrists, forcing you to stop with a start.

in all your worrying, you didn’t realize that you’d been gravitating closer to zoro until you’re staring into his dark, obsidian eyes. there’s clarity in the way that he looks at you. his eyes are shining with a fierceness that you’ve only seen in his worst fights, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next.

because you know that this will change everything.

“hades and persephone.”

“huh?“ you blink at him. “did you hit your head-”

“ask me if i think hades loved persephone.”

you stare into zoro’s eyes, desperation reflecting back at you. there’s a hidden question there and you understand immediately.

quietly, you ask, "do you think hades loved persephone?”

“i do,” he whispers. “i think he loved her and he would've been stupid to let her go.”

your breath catches. zoro places a hand over yours, surprisingly warm as his fingers find their home between your own.

the heavens watch on as the two of you finally open your hearts and give way to the stuff that myths and legends yearn for — a connection that can only be described as fated, destined, purely and resplendently magical.

the gods smile at the two lovers who find themselves falling into each other, laughing as you confess, over and over again,

i love you.

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro fluff #zoro fluff #one piece x reader #¡! ❞ [ fics ]#i know i just wrote a zoro fic BUT #this fic has been stuck in my drafts for too mf long #i didn't even proofread the epilogue bc fuck it #i just need her to go out into the world ok #i promise i will write non-zoro stuff soon #(maybe)#(jk i will)

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nanowrimo · 9 months

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10 Tips for Developing a Daily Writing Practice

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Scrivener, a 2023 Camp NaNoWriMo sponsor, is an award-winning writing app designed to help you get writing and keep writing. Here, Scrivener user and first time Camper, Bookstagrammer, aspiring author, and visual storyteller Yeldah Yousfi shares her tips on how to write consistently:

Writing consistently is one of the most important habits to cultivate if you want to become a better writer and reach your Camp NaNoWriMo target. However, while developing a habit of daily writing practice is useful for exercising your writing skills, it can be difficult to maintain.

Here are ten tips that I personally use for developing a habit of writing consistently every day:

1. Set a schedule.

One of the most important steps to developing a consistent writing habit is to set a schedule. Set aside a specific time every day that you can dedicate to writing—even if you just try this during Camp. This will help you to make writing a routine part of your day, and it will also make it easier to stay motivated and avoid procrastination.

2. Create a writing space.

It’s important to have a designated space that is comfortable and conducive to writing. This could be a home office, a library, or even a cafe. Whatever you choose, make sure it is comfortable and free of distractions so that you can focus on your writing.

3. Track your progress.

Keeping track of your writing progress can help keep you motivated and on track. This could be as simple as making a checklist of goals for each day or tracking your word count so you can see how much you’ve written each day.

4. Set achievable goals.

Having realistic goals is essential for staying motivated. It’s best to set smaller goals that are achievable in the short-term, such as writing 500 words a day, rather than trying to tackle a huge project all at once.

5. Take breaks.

Taking breaks (no matter how short) can help you stay focused, energized, and allows for the mind to rest and to process the material that was just written. Taking a short break every two hours or so will help you to stay productive and prevent burnout. Walking outside always makes me feel better, and I find it helps generate more ideas.

6. Read, read, read.

One of the best ways to become a better writer is to read, especially reading books in the genre you are writing in. Reading helps to open the mind to new ideas, concepts, and possibilities. You can also use the work of other authors to learn more about the craft of writing and to help you come up with ideas for your own work.

7. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes.

Making mistakes is a part of the writing process. When you start writing, keep writing, even if it’s only for ten minutes. It probably won’t be perfect (or even good if it’s your first-time writing), but that’s okay—the more you write, the better you will become. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes and learn from them as you go.

8. Have a support system and a writing partner.

Having a support system that you can reply on can be a great help in staying motivated and on track with your daily writing goals. This could be a friend or family member, or pick a Camp Counselor or writing group from the Camp forums. They can provide encouragement and help to keep you accountable. Additionally, having someone who is willing to read and give feedback on pieces of writing can be invaluable.

9. Reward yourself.

Celebrate your successes and reward yourself for your progress. Whether it’s a special treat or just a pat on the back, make sure to recognize your achievements and reward yourself for reaching your goals.

10. Take it one step at a time.

Writing is a process, and it takes time to develop a consistent writing habit. Don’t get discouraged if you don’t make progress right away. Just keep going and take it one step at a time.

Developing a consistent writing habit is essential for improving your writing skills and becoming a better writer. By following these ten tips, you can develop a habit of writing every day and make it a routine part of your life. Try it through July and see!

Yeldah Yousfi is a reader, aspiring author and visual storyteller. Check out Yeldah’s Instagram.

Top photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash.

#nanowrimo #camp nanowrimo #writing #writing tips #writer's life #by nano sponsor #scrivener #yeldah yousfi

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thirdtidemouse · 5 months

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i have to do more bc she isnt rly brought to life yet.. she will change a LOT... but this is dylan :-] (hammarlund? underhill?) i couldn't not do a hilda oc and i couldnt not make it a nervous werewolf. she stresses herself out but is surprisingly organised about cooking, one of the famously stressful activities. she spends a full day planning out a meal, cooking for herself and kaisa (thank god. that nerd cannot cook) and then asks for detailed reviews.

she is very stressed out about being a werewolf though. she has just finished being a teenager and this is kind of that all over again. she does not want ANYONE to find out and confides reluctantly only in kaisa. what she fears is people fearing her, and she feels like the moment her life has been pieced back together again, she's losing grip, again. it's almost a black hound situation when the people of trolberg hear about a werewolf sneaking around. some episode centred around the mystery ensues.

she likes food + music! although she's more of an amateur at music, she owns + plays a guitar, a mandolin, a banjo, and a harmonica. very folksy. she has a swedish-welsh accent. try and imagine it please.

the default sister dynamic is kaisa getting home from work late (she probably lives in a flat in/around the library), and dylan being in the midst of homemade ravioli or something with a sauce that took 6 hours. kaisa asks about her day to be polite. dylan tells her about the sauce that took 6 hours, a long hike, 3 different invasive plant species, a lot of butter, and the use of powertools. kaisa has been re-shelving niche history of magic books but got so caught up re-reading them that it also took up 6 hours. when they have eaten dylan asks for her opinion and scribes the whole thing down in her notebook as kaisa voices her 5 star yelp review. they do not ask anything else about each others days and interact mainly through dylan slow-motion fake-punching kaisa while she is trying to just hang out in the living room or do her work and is ignored. only when she is in a very good mood will kaisa fake-punch back. dylan has a lethal case of younger-sister-that-is-taller syndrome.

sorry for my handwriting but the vague outline of her backstory WHICH MAY PROBABLY CHANGE is:

from the time she was 8 and kaisa was 21, they lived alone together. kaisa became a full-fledged witch between then and age 25, when suspicion against witches was on the rise for a short while - dylan never became a witch, but the only trusted adults in her life (basically kaisa and tildy) were, and they decided it would be best for her to grow up somewhere less troublesome. they were both pretty messed up about her having to move away, dylan holding some kind of spite toward her sister for a while, and kaisa feeling incapable, guilty and ill-equipped to take care of her.

she went to school in wales at 12, living with as-yet-unspecified family members/friends, and while kaisa almost immediately regretted sending her away, dylan adjusted quickly and spent the rest of her school career there. after a few years she forgave kaisa, because she ultimately enjoys her life, but she is stilll missed at home. at 17 going on 18 she became a werewolf (whether she was bitten or it was always in her somewhere?) and four months later she finished sixth form and called kaisa out of the blue asking if she could come and move in. since they didn't live in trolberg before, she's new to the city.

i will write more cohesively about her relationships to other characters/flesh her out more later, ESPECIALLY the werewolf stuff, but now i have to go to bed. thank you for reading :-] feel free to ask/suggest anything about her!! i love discussing hilda ocs

by the way this is i think my first ever actual OC? i've made up others before but they've just been single designs i've never really thought much about their actual selves because i suck at writing. dylan is the first one thats really stuck. part of her is based off myself and people i know, most of her is not. the main similarity between us is double-denim.

this is fun though. critique is welcome

(obviously her werewolf self is a swedish elkhound. i know the design kind of just looks like a furry im working on it)

#hilda the series #hilda netflix #kaisa #dylan #hilda oc #original character #im going to bed sorry this is not proofread

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 3 months

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Never Say Never

Chapter 8

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 7K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

“Shit!” El yelled just before a massive thunk silenced them all, every head turning to find you lying on the deck as if you had fallen forward.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve muttered, racing to your side, dropping down to his knees and shooing away Miles who had run over to investigate. You were lying on your stomach, arms splayed to either side, your face resting on one cheek. He laid a hand on your cheek, brushing your hair back. “Honey? Hey?”

“She just went!” El shrieked, slightly panicked. “Her eyes rolled up into her head and I tried to grab her but she just fell forward!”

“Honey?” Steve tried again but received no response. As gently as possible, he placed his hands on your arms and rolled you to your back. A splash of red was painted across the side of your face and his stomach seized. “She's bleeding.”

“Holy shit!” Dustin shouted. “That’s a lot of blood.”

“Damn. Let me grab something to clean it up so we can see where it’s coming from,” Lucas told him before rushing into the house.

Steve looked up to see both young boys standing, frozen, their eyes wide with fear. Eli’s blue eyes swam with tears, completely focused on his mom and Steve wanted to kick himself for forgetting they were there. For not thinking about how scary this must be for not only his son but for Eli, to see his mom unconscious on the ground.

“She’s gonna be okay,” he assured them, cradling you in his lap, your head lolling to the side like a rag doll. “We’ll get this blood cleaned up and see what happened.”

Lucas came racing back, wet washcloth in his hand and Steve took it, carefully dabbing at the skin of your face, around your temple, not wanting to hurt you any further. As the red came away, he saw a small cut just above your eyebrow and released a long sigh of relief.

“Should we call an ambulance?” asked Mike, kneeling down next to him.

“No. It’s not nearly as bad as it looked. Head wounds bleed like a motherfucker but it’s just a small cut. I’ve got some butterfly bandages in the bathroom cabinet. Max, can you grab me one?”

The redhead nodded and disappeared into the house. Steve placed one of his arms under your neck and the other in the crook of your knee. He wasn’t going to leave you out here on the hardwood decking. He rose up onto his knees and then carefully lifted you off the ground, your body limp in his arms.

“What can I do?” asked Robin hesitantly.

“Nothing. Pretty sure you’ve done enough,” he snapped, feeling guilty when his best friend flinched. He knew she meant well but they wouldn’t be in this position if she hadn’t decided to meddle in shit that was absolutely none of her concern. He softened his tone as he looked back over at the boys. “I’m just taking her to the couch where she’ll be more comfortable. I think she just passed out. She’ll probably wake up in not too long.”

“She did this before,” Eli said as he trailed behind Steve into the house. “We were at the library getting books like we do every month. The librarian, Ms. White, was trying to get my mommy to take a book. She said it helped her when her mom died and she was talking about how hard it was to lose someone. My mommy went really white. She looked like a ghost. She was breathing really funny and then she fell to the ground. They called the ambulance and I got to ride in it to the hospital. It was really scary but she was okay. That’s when she told me that sometimes her feelings attack her.”

“Do you know if she sees a doctor about her feelings?” asked Max gently as she handed the bandage to Steve.

“Yeah. Aunt Janice got her to go after my daddy went to heaven. Mommy was crying in her bedroom a lot. She didn’t think I knew about it but I did. She still does it sometimes but not like then. Aunt Janice and Matt would come over and make dinner or play games with me and mommy would just disappear for a while. I think she didn’t want me to see how sad she was.”

“She was just trying to protect you because that’s what moms do.” Steve could hear the emotion in Robin’s voice as he tenderly placed the bandage over your wound, his best friend’s words tight. “That had to be really hard for her and for you.”

“Yeah but she’s a lot better now. She told me the doctor helped her. He gave her stuff to do. Like, sometimes she has to find three things to look at, three things to listen to, and three things to move like her fingers or toes when her feelings get too big to keep in her body.”

“It’s good that she’s so honest with you about what’s going on,” Max said, kneeling down in front of Eli. “When my dad left my mom she was a mess but she never talked to me about it. I knew she was hurting but I never knew how to help or what to do. It could be even more scary because I didn’t know what was going on when she’d just shut herself in her room. I had no idea she was feeling this big thing called depression so I just thought I was the problem. I know watching your mommy go through this might be scary but it’s way less scary when you know what it is. You’re such a good kiddo for understanding and trying to help her.”

“What you and your mom went through…” Dustin paused, sighing with a shake of his head. “My dad went to heaven, too, but I was even younger than you so I don’t really remember it. But my mom has never been with anyone else. She said he was her everything and she could never replace him.”

Steve closed his eyes, his hand on your forehead. The hardwood of the floor was making his knees ache but he couldn’t bring himself to move as he took in Dustin’s words. Maybe that was what was happening here. Maybe, even if you liked him, you knew you could never feel for him the way you felt for your husband.

Maybe Steve would never be able to be what you needed because what you needed was gone. How could he possibly compete with a ghost? Not just a ghost, but a ghost of a man who had been everything to you? It was clear, with how hard you'd taken his loss, how you still struggled with it, that you'd loved him deeply. He kept searching for his person but maybe you couldn’t be it for him because you'd already found your person even if fate had been cruel enough to take him away.

“Mommy’s always told me the truth. She says it’s just her and me now so we have to have each other’s backs and be honest with each other. I know she doesn’t like me to see she’s sad but if I ask her about it, she doesn’t lie. Is she…is she going to wake up?”

“Of course she is,” Dustin told him, placing his hand on Eli’s shoulder. “Her feelings just got a bit bigger than she could fight and now her body is resting for a bit.” He glanced over at Steve and then back to the boys. “You know what? How about we head down to the basement and I introduce you to DnD? Lucas? Mike?”

“Yeah!” Lucas exclaimed, overdoing the excitement. “Let’s do it!”

“Absolutely,” agreed Mike. “Jere tells us you’re a big fan of all things nerdy. You’ll fit right in with us, kid. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

“You will!” Jeremiah beamed. “Uncle Dusty and Uncle Mike built me my own DnD table and they’ve been teaching me. We do campaigns twice a month and it’s really fun!”

Eli looked uncertainly toward his mother, clearly torn about leaving you, about going to have fun when you could be hurt. Sweet kid. It was so obvious how much he’d tried to pick up the mantle of man of the house even when that burden was far too large for his tiny shoulders. It was written all over that serious little face how deeply he felt the responsibility to take care of his mom. Steve gave him a wink and a smile.

“Go on. She’s going to be fine and I won’t leave her side until she wakes up and I know she’s okay. I’m going to take care of her for you. I promise.”

The little boy still looked conflicted but he followed the guys, looking back over his shoulder once more as if making sure that Steve was still right next to you. He was and he had no intention of moving until you knew you were alright.

“Steve…” began Robin.

He held up his hand, “Just don’t, okay. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I know you were trying to look out for me but I don’t need you to. I don’t need a protector, Robin. I’m thirty-two years old.”

“But you never had one when you should have had one, Steve, and I think that’s why you sometimes make poor choices in life. I am always going to look out for you because you’re my best friend and I love you.”

“We all do,” Max added, dropping down into the chair across from him, pulling her knees into her chest. “She seems great. I really like her. We weren’t trying to freak her out or convince her not to see you. I swear. We just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

El sighed, plopping down on the floor, “Yeah. We’ve watched you struggle for so long and if anyone deserves to find happiness, it’s you. We just didn’t know her whole story…”

“Maybe you could have kept quiet until you did,” he shot back.

“Maybe we should have,” agreed Robin quietly. “I just…I knew she lost her husband but I didn’t know how recently it was and I just wanted to make sure that she wasn’t using you as a stepping stone, you know? You’re worth more than being someone’s rebound to help them get past their grief before they move on to someone else. You deserve better than that.”

A moan caught his attention and Steve’s head turned, watching as your eyes fluttered, your head turning slowly from side to side as you struggled to pull yourself back into consciousness. Everyone sat silent, leaning in, waiting for you to wake so they could see if you were okay.

“Hey honey?” Steve asked softly.

“Mmm…” you murmured, lids lifting, your eyes crossing as you tried to focus in on the source of the voice.

“Hey there,” Robin cooed softly from just over his shoulder. “You had us all worried for a minute there. So glad to see you waking up. Are you feeling okay? Do you need anything? Glass of water? Some aspirin? Maybe a snack?”

“Robin, give her a damn minute,” Steve sighed with a roll of his eyes. She just couldn’t help herself. She was already bad enough but when she felt guilty, she was even worse, tripping over her words and her own feet to make everything right.

His friend held her hands up in apology, taking a step back. She really did mean well. She had such a big heart and was one of the kindest people he knew but she was so unaware of what was appropriate at certain times. Her foot was permanently wedged in her mouth.

“Steve?” you asked in confusion, your eyes coming into focus, a little divot between your eyebrows. “What…what happened?”

“You passed out,” Robin told you, leaning in again. She really just could not stop herself.

“I did?”

“Yeah,” Max piped up from her spot in the chair. “You face planted right into the deck.”

“But don’t worry,” Robin added. “Steve cleaned up all the blood and he put a bandage on you so you’re good as new. Really. Never looked better.”

“Blood? I was bleeding?” You reached for your head, fingers searching, wincing when you hit the tender spot where your face had made contact with the hard pieces of cedar.

“Don’t touch it. It’s just a small cut,” assured Steve, taking your hand in his, pulling it away from the tender skin. “It bled a lot. You know, head wounds. I’m sure Eli ran into something when he was learning to walk. I know Jere did. He fell forward right into the corner of the wall. I freaked the hell out because he bled like he had been decapitated but once we got it stopped and cleaned up it was this itty bitty wound. It amazed me how something so small could bleed so much.”

“Probably have a hell of a bruise tomorrow though. That was a hard fall,” Robin muttered.

“Eli? Oh my god. Where is…?” You sat up quickly before Steve could stop you, your eyes crossing again. Your hands grabbed for his arms and he held onto you, easing you back onto the pillow.

“Whoa there. You whacked your head pretty good and you passed out. You might want to give it a second before you try getting up and when you do, maybe go slow, okay?”

“Eli,” you repeated.

“Eli is fine. He’s down in the basement with Jere and the boys. They’re teaching him all about their nerdy game, okay? He was worried about you but I assured him you’d be fine and they managed to distract him for a bit. You know, you’re going to have to stop falling down whenever you’re around me or I might have to start keeping a good hold on you whenever we’re together.”

Your eyes went wide, a soft gasp falling from those perfectly pink lips. Jesus, what was that color? It was like cotton candy at the fair, tempting and delicious, making his mouth water. He guaranteed no lipstick brand could ever duplicate it.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, your hand flying up to cover your eyes.

___________________________________________________________

The moments before you blacked out suddenly came rushing back to you and you wanted nothing more than for some natural disaster to hit at this moment. Preferably an earthquake that would create a massive fissure in the floor and swallow you whole. The girls telling you not to mess with Steve’s heart, announcing he liked you, Eli telling everyone you liked him, stating you should go on a date. Shit. No wonder you'd passed out. That was enough to make anyone’s anxiety skyrocket.

“Hey, are you okay?” came Steve’s voice, so close, too close. You needed to get the hell out of here. “Do you need to go to the hospital and have someone look at your head?”

“No, I…”

Robin interrupted. “Are you sure? You were out for a little while. We weren’t sure if we should call an ambulance or not. Eli said this happened to you before in a library but you were okay and so we thought you just passed out. And the cut on your head is pretty itty bitty but if you need a doctor we can totally take you to a doctor.”

“No. No. I’m fine,” you managed, pressing your hands down into the couch in an effort to sit up.

Two strong hands came to your shoulders, pressing you back down, “No, you’re not. I mean, you will be but maybe you shouldn’t be trying to sit up so soon. We don’t need you passing out again.”

“I’m not going to…look, I need to go. I need to go home. I need to get out of here.”

“What are you talking about?” scoffed Max. “You really think we’re going to let you drive after you hit your head and blacked out for ten minutes?”

“I’ll call a cab,” you insisted.

You swallowed hard as bile rose up from your stomach, acid scorching your throat. Whether it was from mortification or passing out you had no idea but you knew you needed to get out of here. You needed space. You needed air. You needed to be as far away from all these people as you possibly could. These people who’d just witnessed what would probably go down as the most mortifying moment of your life.

“Honey, you’re not calling a cab,” Steve stated, his tone resolute, pulling out the dad voice on you, trying to let you know that he wasn’t giving you an option.

“Yeah, I mean you really shouldn’t be alone right now. You could have a concussion for all we know. You could wind up with personality changes or something and then Eli will be standing there wondering where his mom went and who this stranger is in his home. Or you could have memory loss and not even remember who he is or who Steve is and then how will you two ever move out of the friend zone if you just go back to the start space again?”

“Robin, I do not have a concussion,” you groaned. “I am not going to lose my memory. Trust me. I wish I could forget some of the shit that happened today but I have not. Lucky me. I am pretty sure I’m good. I will call a cab, Eli and I will go home, and I will rest.”

“But what if you go to sleep and then you never wake up?” Robin pressed. “It happens. People hit their heads, they think they’re fine, and then boom! They’re just dead.”

“Oh my god!” shrieked Max. “She’s not going to die. Can you stop freaking her out? I think you’ve done enough of that today already.”

“I’m not trying to. I swear. I just don’t want anything to happen to her. She might be Steve’s only chance at actually finding happiness and I like her.”

“Jesus, Robin!” Steve growled, rising from the ground so fast it made your head spin a bit watching him. His fingers clenched into claws in front of him and then he inhaled a large breath, releasing it slowly before speaking again, his hands now resting on his hips. “Look, I need you to go, okay?”

Robin’s eyes went wide, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me. I know I should shut up but I can’t seem to stop talking. Please don’t be mad at me.” She looked down at you. “Please don’t hate me. I suck at social cues but I swear, I am a really good person and I like you and once you get to know me, I am not as bad as this is making it seem and I’d really like us to be friends.”

“I don’t hate you,” you told the distraught girl. “I don’t even know you, Robin. How can I hate you?”

“Steve, please…”

“Look, I’m not mad. I just…this has been a lot. This has been way, way too much. Okay? She’s had a lot of shit thrown at her all at once and she just passed out and hit her head. I just think that maybe she could use some peace and quiet.”

“I just need to go home. There’s plenty of peace and quiet there,” you argued again.

“I doubt that. Remember I have a seven year old boy too? They provide neither peace or quiet and I agree with Robin. I don’t think you should be alone right now. I would feel a whole lot better if you just stayed here so I know you’re alright.” He looked down at you, pressing his hands together in front of him. “Please? For me?”

His eyes, those swirls of warm color, like a forest of green leaves colliding with the brown of the branches, implored you to just give in and you found yourself helpless to refuse.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed softly, trying to ignore the warmth that ignited in your belly as he smiled at you.

“Thank you. There, Robin. She’s staying here. So you don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll watch her memory, her personality, and her breathing, okay? I will make sure that she stays alive. You guys can all go.”

“You sure you don’t need any help?” asked El.

“I’m sure. I have never been more sure of anything in my life. Thank you but I got it.”

“Alright, well let’s gather all the boys then and get out of their hair.” El leaned forward, placing a hand on your arm. “I’m really sorry about all of this and I hope you feel better.”

“Thank you.”

“Lucas! Mike! Dustin! Let’s go! Steve’s kicking us out before Robin can humiliate him any further in front of the girl he likes!” Max yelled from the top of the basement stairs, making you wince.

“Nice, Max. Real nice,” muttered Steve with a roll of his eyes.

The sound of footsteps, like the roar of a stampede, filled the house as five boys all came tromping up the stairs. Eli hit the top, his eyes lighting up when he saw you with your eyes open, racing to his mom and flinging himself down on top of you.

“Oof!” you laughed, wrapping your arms around your sweet boy. “I’m okay, buddy.”

“That was scary!” His voice was muffled, pressed against your neck but you could still feel the tremble in his little body.

“I know it was and I am so sorry that happened but I am okay. My feelings just got the better of me that time, buddy.”

“Damn, glad to see you’re awake,” Dustin huffed, flashing you an adorable grin that only made his cheeks even more round. “You scared the shit out of all of us for a minute.”

“So I was told.”

“So, why are we getting kicked out?” asked Lucas, turning to Robin. “Did I hear your name? What the hell did you say now?”

Robin just shrugged, a guilty smile on her face. Max sighed, rolled her eyes and grabbed onto the back of Lucas’s shirt, dragging him toward the door.

“What didn’t she say?” El laughed, taking Mike’s hand. “It was really nice to meet you. Hope we get to see you again, if Steve lets us anywhere near you.”

“Me too,” you replied, lifting your hand and giving everyone a wave while keeping your other hand firmly around your son who was still clinging to you like you were a raft on turbulent waters.

“Seriously?” muttered Mike as they made their way out the door. “What did Robin say?”

“Probably just what all of us are thinking,” Dustin replied, the door shutting behind him.

“Really sweetheart, I am okay,” you assured your son once again now that everyone had gone. “Just a little bump on the head. I fight those feelings and usually I win. This time they were just a bit stronger than me but I’m still okay. Your mommy always wins in the end.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, pulling away just enough to look at you and your heart broke at the sight of his puffy eyes and red face, tears trailing down those sweet, full cheeks.

“Of course I’m sure. I can’t let those feelings win. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I have you. You’re the thing that always gives me strength, Eli. You’re the reason I keep fighting again and again. They can’t ever beat me because I have you. You’re my sunshine that beats the darkness. You’re my joy that always overpowers the sadness. You’re like Captain America’s shield or Wonder Woman’s bracelets.”

He grinned, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve, “The Bracelets of Submission are pretty powerful.”

“They are and so are you.”

“And so are you, mommy. You’re more powerful than all the superheroes in all the comic books in all the world.”

“Thanks, kiddo. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“You and your mom are going to spend the night here. How does that sound?” Steve asked.

Spend the night? When had you agreed to spending the night? You thought he’d meant to just stay for a couple hours to see how you were feeling, not the whole night.

“Really?” Eli’s eyes went wide, his grin almost cracking his face in two. Of course he’d love that idea. “A sleepover?”

“Yep. We just want to make sure your mom is back to one hundred percent so you guys are going to sleep here so I can keep an eye on her. I’m not letting her go home until I know she’s okay.”

“You’re gonna take care of her?”

“I sure am.”

Eli grinned, looking over at Jeremiah, the two boys looking far too excited at the idea of Steve ensuring she wasn’t concussed. But wasn’t that what Eli had said? That he wanted you to have someone to take care of you? They were twisting this situation into exactly what they wanted it to be. And you couldn’t even be upset about it because they both just looked so damn hopeful and adorable.

“I knew you would be the perfect person to take care of my mommy. I knew it!”

“So, how about you two take Miles out in the backyard for a bit to play and we let your mommy get some rest?” Steve suggested. “I’ll stay right here with her and make sure she’s alright, okay? And how about we order pizza later?”

“Pizza!” both boys yelled at the same time.

“I usually only get pizza on Fridays and now I get it on Sunday too! Cool! This is like the best day ever except for Mommy falling down!” Eli stopped, his face scrunching. “But what about school tomorrow?”

“I’ll take you both to school.”

“I can take him to school,” you stated. “I have to get to work anyway. We can just get up sooner and leave so I can change clothes.”

Steve shook his head. “I can take them both. I mean, I already have to head that way anyway and I’m sure Jere has something in his closet that Eli can borrow for the day. Then you only have to worry about getting yourself ready, as long as you’re feeling okay.”

“I will be. I already feel fine now,” you argued, attempting to sit up and immediately lying back down when a wave of dizziness and nausea overtook you.

“Oh, do you now?” teased Steve, dropping down at the other end of the couch, lifting your feet and placing them in his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if your heart rate hadn’t just ratcheted up to two hundred at the physical contact. “Look, I know you are dying to bolt out of here and leave a you shaped hole in my wall because of my friends. But that’s just them. They love to stick their nose in where it doesn’t belong and think they’re making my life easier when, in reality, they are making it exponentially harder. There is nothing for you to be embarrassed about. If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s them. They’re meddling almost caused you a trip to the ER.”

“No they didn’t. It’s fine.”

It was. Kind of. Maybe. You didn’t know. All they were trying to do was look out for their friend. You couldn’t fault them for that. And nothing they had said had been wrong. You couldn’t make any promises. You hadn’t opened your heart to anyone since Justin’s death. You hadn’t found anyone that made you want to, until now anyway. But were you just being selfish? There were so many more hearts involved than just your own. It was hard enough to be willing to risk your heart breaking, but what about Eli, Jeremiah, and Steve?

“It’s really not.”

“No. It is.” You pressed your hands into the couch, slowly pushing yourself up to sitting. The room stayed level, nothing tilting or swirling for which you were grateful. “They were just looking out for you. It’s sweet, really. They don’t want to see you get hurt again and I understand that.”

“There are no guarantees in life. Nobody can ensure someone doesn’t get hurt. Trust me. I would wrap Jere in bubblewrap and keep him away from all the bad shit if I could but I can’t. Besides, we’re not even…I mean, this isn’t even…is it?”

You looked at Steve, this man who’d somehow cracked your heart wide open again. This who’d managed what you never thought would be possible. This man who’d made you feel alive, who’d made you feel truly happy, even hopeful for what the future could look like. This man who was everything you could have ever hoped for as if you'd created him in your dreams and he’d somehow become real. This man who had the power to shatter your heart into dust or bring it back to life.

Was it something? You didn’t know but you knew, as simply as you knew that the sun would set in a few hours and rise again tomorrow, that you wanted it to be. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was reckless. Maybe it was wrong but if it was, how come it felt so right?

You liked him being around. You loved how seamlessly he seemed to fit into your life, how easily he got along with Eli, how fluidly he just seemed to make sense. Eli adored him. He’d already stated that he thought Steve would be a great dad. Not that you were considering that just yet. You might be hopeless when it came to your feelings for him but you weren't insane. Somehow he’d managed to just sneak in under your radar and now you couldn’t picture your life without him in it in some way. Maybe you were just a bit crazy but wasn’t that what life was? Making crazy decisions, taking huge leaps, and just hoping it all turned out okay?

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “Do you want it to be?”

His lips pursed, fingers running over the fabric on the back of the couch and you wished you could be inside his brain, see what he was thinking. You were terrified of putting yourself out there again, opening your heart, letting yourself feel so deeply for someone again to possibly have it all shatter around you. But you were even more terrified of not taking a chance and missing out on what could be something amazing.

“Yeah, I do,” answered Steve after a beat, his eyes lifting to yours, those chameleon orbs a golden brown, like whiskey over ice, burning all the way down your throat to your very center. “I really do.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, shaking his head. “I guess I thought I was pretty obvious but apparently not. Did you miss me trying to kiss you when we went ice skating?”

“I thought you were but then I wasn’t sure.”

“Yeah, well, it was an epic fail. I told myself to take my time. I know you lost your husband.” His teeth raked over his bottom lip, eyes darting to the floor before returning to hers. “Jere told me that Eli’s daddy was in heaven but I had no idea how it happened or when. I didn’t want to come across as pushy.” Those thick fingers raked through that glorious hair, massaging the back of his head. “Look, I like you, honey. I mean, I really like you. And yeah, I was floored the moment we met because you’re beautiful. I’m sure you know that.”

A million butterflies took flight from within your chest. No. You didn’t know that. Justin always told you how gorgeous you were and you would roll your eyes, telling him he was simply seeing you through rose colored glasses because of his love for you. Hearing Steve say it, it was something entirely different. He had women throwing themselves at him left and right. Women who took time with their appearance, who got regular haircuts, who wore heels and did their make-up every day. It wasn’t that you didn’t have any confidence but you'd never thought you were up to the standards of some of the women in this town.

“But it’s more than that,” he continued, lips pressing together, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Getting to know you…I mean, you’re…hell, you’re amazing. You’re everything I would put on a list of what I think the perfect girl is. You’re kind. You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re independent. You’re an amazing mom. And you’re so damn strong. I can’t imagine going through what you have. I don’t know if I would still be standing let alone surviving the way you are.”

Tears stung your eyes and you slid the back of your fingers along them to catch them before they fell. It felt so gratifying to hear someone acknowledge how hard it was. How hard it was to keep moving forward when you felt like your entire world had stopped. How hard it was to live again after losing the thing you were living for. How hard it was to be everything your son needed when there was no one to ever stop and ask what you needed.

“So, yes. I want this to be something. I want to be with you. I want to hold your hand. I want to take you on a real date where I get to kiss you when it’s over. I want to know everything about you. But I understand if you need more time. I am willing to wait. I don’t want to rush you. I don’t want to mess this up because I really think we could have something great here. So, I do want this to be something but I don’t want you to feel obligated if you’re not ready.”

��Justin…my husband…we lost him two years ago,” you said softly, each word a tremble in your voice. “He was a Marine. He was supposed to be on a humanitarian mission in Somalia. He assured me there was nothing to worry about. There wasn’t supposed to be any fighting. But things went wrong. Some of the locals did not approve of our troops being there and they attacked. He was caught in the crossfire of the attack. The Marines wouldn’t give me any more information than that because it’s strictly confidential or that’s what they told me anyway.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks and then Steve’s thumbs were there, gently wiping them away. His hand came over to cover yours, engulfing it completely, giving you enough strength to keep talking. You hated talking about this but if this was going to be something, if you were going to try to make this something, then you had to start by being honest with him and letting him know what he was getting into.

“Damn. Honey, I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. You always know it’s a risk when you’re married to a military guy but you just don’t ever want to think it will be you. Then suddenly two guys in uniform show up to your door. They didn’t even have to say anything. The minute I opened that door and saw them, I knew. They couldn’t have been there for any other reason. Their job is to give you the news that your life has been irrevocably changed. You only see them on the worst day of your life. I crumpled to the floor. I don’t even remember their words, don’t remember them somehow getting me to the couch, don’t remember them calling my mom. Lot of good that did. She’s hours away. Somehow I must have asked them to call Janice because here she came. If it hadn't been for her, I would still be on that couch.”

Steve didn’t say a word, his thumb tracing small circles over the back of your hand, and you were grateful. You weren't sure you could keep talking if he spoke right now and you wanted to get this out. He had a right to know. If he was truly interested in this becoming something, then he needed to know everything. He needed to know the mess that he was about to wade through.

“I went to a really dark place for a while. I functioned, but barely. The only thing that kept me going was Eli. He was all I had to live for anymore but I wasn’t really living. It was more like I was just existing. I knew he needed me. He needed me to be his mom. He needed me to keep things as normal as possible and I tried but it was all a show. Inside I was as far from normal as a person can be. On the days it was too hard Janice would come over and amuse Eli so I could fall apart. She finally convinced me to see a therapist and it helped.”

“Good. That’s really good. I mean, no one would expect you to be okay after something like that. I’m so sorry you felt like you had to pretend to be but I am glad you’re doing okay now.”

“See, that’s the thing…” You chewed on your lower lip. “Steve, I like you. I mean, I really like you. You’re the first guy who’s made me feel like I have a shot to be happy again. Hell, you’re the first guy who’s made me feel anything since it happened. But your friends might not be wrong. I don’t know if I am completely okay. I’m on medication, anti-anxiety meds and anti-depression meds. I was on sleeping pills but I weaned off those about a year ago.”

“Okay.” Steve shrugged, shaking his head. “Lots of people take medication on a regular basis.”

“Yeah. They do but I still sometimes have anxiety attacks. Certain things can trigger me and I can’t even always pinpoint what they are. Sometimes it’s something to do with Justin but sometimes it's not. It’s like I can’t handle the unexpected anymore. I keep waiting for disaster to strike or bad news to arrive at every turn. I don’t know. My therapist taught me this 3-3-3 technique. I find three things to look at, three things to listen to, and move three parts of my body. It usually works but obviously that did not happen today. It came on faster than I could process. But I can’t promise you that it won’t happen again.”

“Alright. So, if it happens I’ll know how to help. I’ll be there for you. Honey, you make it sound like you’re going to be such a chore for me.”

“I am. Don’t you see that? I’m not just some girl that’s easy and care-free and I come with a kid.”

“So do I,” snorted Steve.

“Yes but I also come with a ton of baggage. I mean, a warehouse full of baggage.”

Steve flexed his bicep, flashing you a grin, “I work out pretty regularly. I’m a fairly strong guy. I think I can handle hauling around a few bags.”

“Steve,” you sighed.

“Honey, look. I get it. But you think you’re the only one with baggage? The baggage from my parents alone could fill three semi trucks. That’s not even counting my constant search for someone who will love me for me or my failed marriage. No. I don’t take medication and I don’t have anxiety attacks. But I am needy. I am neurotic. I have a hero complex according to Robin, always trying to save everyone in my endless pursuit to matter somehow. I have chosen the wrong women my whole life because I’ve been seeking something I’ve never been able to find. Until you.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know enough. I know enough to know that you’re different. I know enough to know that this is worth trying. I know enough to know that this could be something amazing if we give it a shot. I’m willing to help you carry that baggage if you’re willing to help me carry mine. Everybody comes with baggage. I think it’s about finding someone who’s willing to help you carry the load. I’m willing to take the risk. Are you?”

You inhaled deeply. “I want to.”

“Then stop thinking so hard about it and do it. We don’t have to rush anything. We can take things slow. Just let me take you out for dinner. See how it goes.”

“What about the kids? If this doesn’t work out…Eli would be crushed if he lost Jeremiah. I think he would be crushed if he lost you.”

“Then he doesn’t have to. We’re both rational adults. This isn’t high school. If it doesn’t work out, then we go back to the way things are right now. I mean, come on. You’re talking to the guy who is still friends with his ex-wife. I was just out with them a few weeks ago for her husband’s birthday. I am more than capable of maintaining contact and being amicable after a split.”

“You’re sure you want to do this knowing all you know now?”

Steve smiled, leaning over your legs, those beautiful eyes gazing into yours, “I’m even more sure knowing all I know now because what I know is you are even more incredible than I thought you were before. Just one dinner. That’s all I’m asking. If you don’t enjoy yourself or you don’t think it’s going anywhere, it ends there. Come on. You can do one dinner, maybe dessert, right?”

You nodded, that terrifying little feeling that was hope blooming in your chest, “I can do one dinner.”

Chapter 9

Taglist: @katethetank@roxiehorrorshow@sapphire4082@bakugouswh0r3@frostandflamesfanfic @mix-matchsocks @mushy-mushroom04 @palmtreesx3 @littlebookworm86 @eddies-trailer-babe @cheesewritings @emilyj444 @daisyhollyxox

Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. ❤️❤️❤️

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dandelionxbby · 3 months

Text

: ̗̀➛ Modern TWOW Kids Headcanons

╰┈➤ Neteyam

High school junior - 17 years old

Captain of both varsity basketball and soccer

4.1 GPA, working towards Stanford

Often spends time in the library

Reads classical literature

Played Romeo in their school production of R&J

Has his licence and drives a ford

Models for small black owned fashion brands for a little extra cash

Runs Tuk's Etsy were she sells bracelets

Collect Records - R&B and Rap

Headphones > Speakers

Introverted but Extroverted around his friends and sports teams

Teacher's pet - carries the whole class. Answers when no one else does

Often gets into fights with Ao'nung because Ao'nung wants to be captain of the basketball team

Drives Tuk to school and extracurricular activities

Love to cook, in the kitchen almost every night with Neytiri

Not that close to Jake, he craves Neytiri's approval more than his

Nose, industrial, and multiple cartilage piercings

Plays violin

Has been growing his dreads since he was 7, but they don't look bad bc he keeps up with them

╰┈➤ Lo'ak

sophomore - 16 years old

JV Football and Basketball

2.3 GPA, Lo'ak isn't dumb, he just doesn't try

Made a music video to his rap for film class and it got a B-

Facetimed Reya right after he got his grade, he was really proud of himself

Skateboards to school and practices but Neteyam drives him home

Collects 90s/00s rap CD's - eminem, tupac, biggie, etc.

Talks back to the teacher, kind of a class clown

Wants to join the Marines like Jake

Worked as a cashier at the movie theater to buy him and Reya tickets to the Eras tour. He didn't know all the words to the songs but he tried.

Is outside from the time he comes home 6:30 to 11:00 at night shooting hoops bc he really wants to be on varsity basketball with Neteyam

Always has his airpods in

Records his raps in his bathroom bc it has good acoustics

Closer to Kiri than the rest of his siblings

They all has their own rooms but he is always in Kiri's for some reason

Taper fade with braids

Besties with Rotxo, he talks to him about things he can't with other people

Wants a tattoo so bad, but Jake says "You can get one once you paid your own rent"

Has an Ig with 134K followers

╰┈➤ Kiri

Sophomore

Crochets her clothes

Thrifts or depop clothes only, doesn't believe in fast fashion

Low-key in her Kat Stratford era

Plays piano and bass

Has an all girl band - boygenius is her idols

Loves anime and K-pop - has her Bias as her laptop wallpaper

Anti-plastic, only uses her hydroflask - hates stanleys bc "consumerism has America in a chokehold"

Photographer for the school's digital newspaper

Wears dangle mushroom earrings everyday

Has a wolfcut and red hair

She has natural freckles but they are barely there so she draws them on with a brown eyeliner pencil

She's in theater club and is the composer of all the musicals

Dance moms is her guilty pleasure

Very much vegan and will give someone the stink eye if they eat meat next to her

works at a crystal shop and will geek out anytime a rookie collector ask her what a specific crystal is for

has a septum piercing

Super introverted her only friends are Reya and Rotxo

Always challenging her teachers

Her only social medias are Twitter (X), tumblr, and tiktok

Loves Taylor Swift and Minski

Watches french films and reads french books

Closer to Jake but Neytiri is her go to girl when she needs to talk

Her phone background is Grace and her when she was 3, it was taken 3 months before Grace died

Hates sports, doesn't understand why people are going crazy over football recently

Her walls are covered with posters

Low-key loves all of Lindsay Lohan's movies - she's her celb crush

╰┈➤ Ao'nung

Same year and age as Neteyam

I feel like his family is rich

Drives a benz

going to uop on a basketball scholarship

6'3 1/2 - got his dad's height

Super protective of Tsireya

On the debate team, he loves arguing

If he's not playing basketball, hes surfing, if hes not doing that he's studying

Posts him playing basketball on his tiktok and ig, hoping one day he'll get noticed by a scout, thousands of people repost his videos

Has every pair of Jordans known to man

crosses people over in the hallway

I feel like he bullies freshman boys but sticks up for the freshman girls bc he sees them as his little sisters

Ronal is the principal so he get's good food at lunch

always late to class but has amazing grades

introverted extrovert

teaches basketball to kids at the community center

Throws the best parties

brings speakers to school

Frenemies with Neteyam and Lo'ak

Of all the Sullys, Kiri is his favorite

╰┈➤ Tsireya

Sophomore - 15 years

Post GRWMs on tiktok

Tennis and volleyball

Starting ballet this year

skincare and makeup obsessed

wears her mary janes everyday

super coquette / coastal grandmother

team conrad

Loves Taylor Swift and Lana Del Rey

Priscilla, Marie Antoinette, Belle, Girl Interrupted, Black Swan are her favorite movies

Wears the friendship bracelets that Kiri and Tuk make her

Watches Vouge Beauty Secrets when she gets ready

Her favorite youtuber is Sabrina Lilliane

Thrifts with Kiri

Has a baby pink Stanley and wears ugg slippers

On the school dance team

Has a Jeep but can't drive it yet so she rides with Ao'nung

Carries K-pop Idol photo cards

4.0 GPA, she doesn't play about her grades

Often helps Lo'ak with school

Reads poetry books

Researching to start her own haircare line with the help of Neytiri

Doesn't wear a backpack only tote bags

If she doesn't have starbucks every morning then she'll be cranky all day

Always wears a locket that has her parent's pictures in it

Is the star of all the musicals

Sophomore year class president

Did the best petting zoo fundraiser

╰┈➤ Rotxo

Junior

Head of the school paper

doesn't play sports

The smiths are the only people he listen's to

works at a record shop

volunteers at a soup kitchen

4.2 GPA going to Harvard Med

OCD

Wants to be a surgeon

Manages Ao'nung social media accounts

Introverted, hates large crowds

Drives Kiri to thrift stores, they're besties

╰┈➤ Tuk

3rd grade - 8 years old

Sells friendship bracelets

Went to the eras tour with jake, had a big sign that said "Give her her scarf back, now"

She traded bracelets with a bunch of people

Did ballet for a while and hated it so now she does gymnastics

Spa days with Neteyam

in her "only eating chicken nuggets and craft mac and cheese" phase

loves to rollerblade

Has an unboxing channel on youtube

always making slime

doesn't have any electronics bc Jake and Neytiri doesn't want her to be an Ipad kid

Tuk is really popular on youtube but she doesn't know it

Loves Reya like another sister

Takes horseback riding lessons

╰┈➤ Spider

Doesn't go to Pandora High like the rest, he goes to an athletic boarding school on a lacrosse scholarship

Was really close to the sullys but since his school has a no phone rule they've grown apart

Still hangout on the weekends and in the summer

no doubt he's going pro

Grew up around military vets

cut his dreads off once he got to school

takes archery as an extra class

really good at math

The sullys send him care packages full of junk food

He sleeps over at the sullys on the weekends bc he would rather not be with his dad

Still really close to Kiri but not as close to Lo'ak as they used to be

Loves the MCU and goes to the theaters when the movies come out even if they are bad

Thank you for reading <3

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queen--of--shadows · 2 years

Text

Healing Shadows: Part 4

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is a gifted surgical healer and water bender. Rhysand needs her help when he finds out about Feyre’s risky pregnancy. Azriel finds out reader is his mate.

Warnings: mentions of surgical wounds and scars

Word Count: 1,896

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

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

Part 4: Truth

Nuala and Cerridwen cleaned up, removing any trace of the traumatic morning, while you and Rhys set up a cozy array of soft quilts, plush blankets, and thick pillows in Feyre’s old room so she could nest with baby Nyx. “Feyre, let me know if you need anything, I’ll be in my--” You stammered as you felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Rhys questioned, raising a brow.

“Nothing, I’m sorry. I was about to say my room, I didn’t mean to assume I could just take over the guest room. I…Is there somewhere else I should bring my bag?” You only had your supplies with you, not foreseeing that you would end up moving in so soon.

Rhys and Feyre shared a sympathetic look. “Y/N, please, consider the House like your own home. Take whichever room you prefer. If you want to stay in the guest room, by all means, do,” Rhys continued, “We have no problem using another room for guests.” He gave you a warm smile, and you knew he meant it.

Your chest swelled with joy and gratitude at their generosity. Turning to Feyre, you said “I’ll be in my room. Shout if you need me.”

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

It was late and although you were physically and emotionally exhausted from the day’s events, sleep escaped you. Soaking in a long steaming bath usually helped, but maybe it was the nerves of being in a new home. And not just any home, but the High Lord’s. You still were having a hard time believing the trajectory of your life changed so drastically in just a few days.

You paced in your room, read a few chapters of the book Nesta had lent you, trying to tire yourself out, but after a half hour gave up. Maybe I just need some tea, you thought, grabbing a robe from the dresser and making your way downstairs.

The House was dark and dim, save for the faelight torches along the length of the stairs. You were already familiar with its layout, or as much of it that you’d seen so far. Nesta had mentioned she would give you a tour of the Library tomorrow, and Cassian offered to show you around the rest of the House and the training ground on the roof.

With one hand against the wall, you made your way into the opulent kitchen. Beautiful white marble glistened underneath the iridescent faelight. You grabbed one of the torches to guide your path to the end of the room, pulling back the thick curtains draped around giant floor-to-ceiling windows, revealing the famed starry Velaris night sky and a full moon. Even though you had spent most of your life here, the sight still took your breath away.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Azriel whispered.

You jolted back and turned to face him, not realizing he was in the kitchen before you had come down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he chuckled, bringing his hands up in innocence. His deep, breathy laugh caressed your soul. Azriel was donning a simple black ensemble, the V-line cut of his sweater showcasing dark sweeping tendrils of his tattoos across a broad, muscular chest. Your heart began to pace and you were sure he could hear its pounding. Moonlight shining bright on him from the window, you couldn’t help but marvel at his perfect features. The sharp angle of his jaw, his soft, full lips, and gorgeous, blazing hazel eyes. His shadows slithered around his arms and shoulders, and you looked down to see one of them wrapping up your leg, like a cat brushing and winding against you. A cheeky smile spread across your face as the shadow slid up and around one leg, then the other.

Meeting his eyes again, you realized you hadn’t said a single word.

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” you breathed. Turning back around, you continued, “I’ve loved the night sky since I was young.” Azriel hummed in agreement, taking a seat at the oak table in the center of the kitchen. You just noticed the odd-shaped chairs, and as he sat down, it made sense that they were fashioned to accommodate their massive wings.

“I was going to make myself tea, would you like some?” You looked to Azriel for his response, but he just stared at you, as if searching for an answer from you in turn. His cold, beautiful face yielded no emotion.

“Sure, thank you.”

You worked in comfortable silence, steeping the tea, unsure what to say or how to make conversation. He was the notorious Shadowsinger, and although that alone didn’t scare you, you had just been invited to move in and were still getting to know everyone.

Straining out the rich chamomile drink into two mugs, you handed him one before deciding to head back upstairs. You wanted to stay, some feeling in your gut telling you to take a seat, but figured it would be better to avoid any situation that would cause you to gain feelings for someone in the Inner Circle. The few moments you’ve had with Azriel thus far already had you in bed at night, imaging his tall lithe body, pushed up against yours.

Azriel wrapped his hand around the mug and your fingers, warm and strong. He looked up at you as if expecting more, but you instead pulled back with a soft smile and mumbled goodnight.

You didn’t notice the shadows that followed you back to your room, slithering along the cold stone floors in the darkness.

You were kicking yourself as soon as you shut your door.

How will I ever fit in around here?

The tea worked its magic to clear your mind, and with heavy lids, you drifted away into a deep sleep.

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

The following day, you were awoken by a loud knock at your door. “Come in,” you grumbled, eyes still half-closed.

“Morning, Y/N!” Mor squealed as she let herself in, her citrusy cinnamon scent filling your room. Jumping onto your bed and propping her head on one elbow, she asked “How did you sleep?”

Her eyes sparkled as she awaited your answer. “Fine,” was all you could manage. How did she look so good this early?

“Madja is here. She said she wanted to come check on Feyre and Nyx.”

Rubbing your eyes and pulling on your robe and slippers, you followed the tall blonde downstairs.

You entered Feyre’s room to find Cassian holding Nyx with Azriel seated next to him, both cooing over the baby. He was looking healthier and stronger by the day. Rhys was helping Feyre out of bed and onto the couch so you and Madja could look at her wounds. Madja slowly peeled back the bandages and gauze from yesterday morning. She whipped around, meeting your eyes with a menacing gaze that made you want to shrink.

“Why do her cuts still look so fresh?” Madja’s words shook you out of your sleepy stupor, and an icy fear mixed with rage washed over you.

No…please, please don’t say anything.

You didn’t respond.

“What does that mean? Are they not supposed to look like this?” Rhys asked, his night-kissed power slowly thrumming throughout the room. All eyes were on you, again.

“Madja? What are you talking about?” Feyre protested.

She didn’t shift her gaze away from you.

“I thought you were going to tell them. When I asked for your help, I meant all of it.”

You threw your head back in frustration. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Madja,” you replied coolly. “I performed the surgery, Nyx is healthy and Feyre is healing appropriately. Her wound is already closing.”

You prayed that everyone would believe you, despite Madja’s death stare.

“Y/N, what are you hiding from us?” Rhys knew how to sound like the High Lord when he needed to. Guilt and shame-- you suddenly felt horrible for not telling them the whole truth. Fine, they offered you their home and trust, the least you could do was give them this.

“Rhys, Feyre, I’m sorry. I haven’t been completely honest with you. I…” You were having a hard time putting your thoughts into words. “I have healing…powers? Magic? Something beyond just my surgical skills. I’m not entirely sure what to call it. I learned a lot from studying medical texts, but my healing power is similar to...”

They all stared at you, awaiting your explanation.

“It’s hard to describe, and I haven’t fully mastered it yet. I need to practice more, but essentially I can heal using water.”

The blank stares you received in return had you stumbling over your words as you continued, “I think it would be better if I just showed you.”

Focusing on the glass of water next to Feyre’s bed, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes to center yourself. You searched deep down in your core for that power, that magic that hummed along your veins, allowing you to bend water to your will. Opening your eyes, you lifted one hand with a flicking motion of your wrist, the water following, easing out of the glass and into the air like a fluid rope. You turned your palm towards the water to stop it, and then continued to bend and twist your wrist and fingers, weaving and dancing the water through the air, not unlike Azriel’s shadows when they wreath around his neck and limbs. You were so focused, you didn’t notice the multiple sets of eyes darting back and forth between the water and you.

“Incredible…” Azriel all but whispered to himself.

Halting the water above Feyre, you motioned for her to lay down on the couch. The room was silent as if everyone was holding their breath, watching you command the element to your will.

With one hand holding the water still above her, you used your other to lift Feyre’s tunic above her abdomen to reveal the site you had cut into just a day ago. Using both hands, you twisted the water into a circle and brought it down above her wound. “This may tickle,” you warned. Feyre nodded, and you were grateful for the trust shining bright in her eyes.

You slid the water across her abdomen, willing the magic from deep inside you into the liquid. The water began to glow a soft blue, illuminating Feyre’s belly, and you moved it in long strokes across her wounds as if you were washing and wiping with a towel. You continued for a few seconds, the redness from the stitches slowly subsiding, and the wound fully closed. You were done with a few more strokes, then eased the liquid back into the glass on the nightstand and reeled your power back in. The water stopped glowing.

“That was…unbelievable,” Rhys muttered. “Y/N, it seems you have a sort of elemental magic. Have you tried using your power with other materials?”

Already following his pattern of logic, you responded with a sigh and shook your head in disappointment, “I have, but for some reason, I’m not able to connect with the other elements. I don’t know why, but it seems I’m only able to do this with water or other fluids that contain water, like--”

“Like blood,” Azriel finished for you, wearing the cold mask of the Night Court’s Spymaster.

“Yes, like blood.”

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

461 notes · View notes

pengweng-quack · 2 months

Text

Being a Witch with Vampires

Carlisle Cullen x Witch!OC

Summary: Stella (A witch) and Carlisle (A vampire), and how they blossomed from roommates to friends(?) to partners

Chapter 5/7

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Notes:

This was inspired by this fanfic on tumblr by lis-likes-fics titled "In My Defense, I Was Left Unsupervised"

This is also on Ao3 under the same title and same username too if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53448940)

Posting is random lol, hope you guys enjoy this story

The end of Being a Witch with Vampires is nearing, thank you for all the support that you've given for this series, you are all appreciated beyond words! <3

Word Count: 2774 words

TW for this chapter: Blood mentions

Timeline: Breaking Dawn

Masterlist

“We’re home.” Carlisle announced, walking in the house with the other Cullens. Bella and Jacob shared one look at each other, realizing that they wouldn’t be able to hide it, especially with Edward’s abilities

“Where’s Stella?” Edward asked loudly. Bella and Jacob looked at each other, they knew that he knew her disappearance already

“She said she’ll be staying in our room.” Carlisle answered with confidence. And that broke Bella’s heart. This was what happened to Stella years ago, with her confidence high knowing she’ll be going home to someone, only for it to crumble.

“She’s not here.” Jasper said, looking at Carlisle and Stella’s room

“What do you know?” Edward asked Jacob, grabbing the collar of his shirt

“She had to leave.” Jacob answered, knowing he had no way out “Didn’t tell us anything.”

“I can’t see into Stella’s future anymore either.” Alice said, trying to do another vision but it causing just a headache

“She’s blocking her thoughts as well.” Edward added

Because of Stella's absence, the Cullens were even more stressed. Everyone understood, though, that Carlisle was the most affected of all. It felt like a payment for leaving her a while back, an overdue one, but still was a payment.

“Still nothing?” Carlisle quietly asked Alice as she shook her head no

The Cullens didn’t know what Stella’s reason of leaving was. But they hope that it was for a good cause. Carlisle continued reading on every scripture that he and Stella has collected over the years, distracting himself from Stella’s continuous absence.

Stella has quickly made her way to her old home in Italy, the place where she lost her freedom and regained it at once. She walked up to the door and knocked, knowing that it was still Sam that owned the house.

“Who’s— Stella?” Sam asked, opening the door. It was obvious on his face that he was shocked seeing her again. Especially when it has been almost 300 years since they last saw each other

“Hi.” Stella greeted politely before he greeted her back with a hug, whispering his ‘I miss you’s’ to her

“Are you—

“Sam, no.” Stella called at once as she enters the place that she once called home, it was left the same as how it was when she left. She remembered that night like the palm of her hand. How could she forget anyways?

It was the place where Carlisle has saved her from her initial fate.

“Right.” Sam realized, a disappointed smile on his face

Stella immediately rushed to the library, scanning through books that could possibly help with Bella. She had one glimpse of a book that discussed about how witches affected vampires, so she decided to grab that and put it in a separate stack away from the books that could help Bella’s case.

“Why are you back?” Sam asked, resting on the doorframe and watching her grab piles and piles of books from the library

“I needed the library.” Stella answered immediately, using her magic to grab any book that mentioned a human-vampire relationship

“I thought…never mind.” Sam started before shutting his mouth

Stella decided to have a chat with Sam once and for all. For the proper closure he needed. It was wrong of her to leave him in the middle of the night all those decades ago, but she wanted to be selfish of her own happiness. Choose what she knows will make her happy with her life.

And that was with Carlisle.

“Sam.” Stella called, he immediately looked at her

“I owe you an apology.” She continued, going closer to him and facing him

“Can I ask you a question?” Sam asked, Stella nodded immediately “Does the vampire treat you right? Are you happy with him?”

“The happiest I know I will be.” Stella answered earnestly, remembering Carlisle and his ways of making her happy

“Then I’m happy.” Sam said, a genuine smile on his face, grabbing her hand and squeezing it softly “No need to apologize for choosing your happiness.”

“I’m sorry.” Stella repeated “You didn’t deserve to be left like that. I really just wanted the freedom that Carlisle offered to me.”

“I know.” He simply responded

“I used the guidance, asking if there were any chance that you will come back. The guidance told me no, it told me that you were destined for more than what a simple witch life will offer to you. That was the reason why you were made the strongest among us all.” Sam explained, making Stella look at him

“You used the guidance?” Stella asked, Sam nodded immediately

“It was tough learning it, and scary.” He added to his answer

“I’ve only asked the guidance for two things: if there were any chance that you will come back, and if I had a chance of getting my own happiness. Greatly weakened me, those two.” Sam continued, scoffing lightly at himself “I couldn’t use any type of magic for a while after doing it.”

It was a huge realization on what she needed to do, a branch of magic she never wanted to study. But, her family needs this. Her family needs her to be brave.

For her family.

“Mind if you teach me?”

Stella landed in front of the Cullens after leaving for over a week. She was anxious in seeing them again but she knew that what she did was for a good cause. Walking up to the door, she knocked on it, waiting for someone to open it.

“Stella, you’re back.” Jacob said, opening the door and letting her in

“I got some reading on Bella’s case.” She announced, entering the house

Carlisle’s head popped up from the kitchen, and was about to ask Jacob on who was on the door. His face showed shock with Stella being back, he didn’t know how to properly react. But she knew something about Bella’s case, he would be damned if he doesn’t welcome her back

Not that he could even think of shunning her away.

“What is it?” Jacob asked

“Blood. Bella needs blood.” Stella answered before Carlisle fully walked near them

“What do you mean?” Carlisle asked

“The baby in Bella is taking a lot of Bella’s blood, she needs to get blood from another source.” Stella explained immediately, grabbing her bag and pulling a blood bag

“Your blood.” Carlisle said once he’s had a scent of the blood. Stella saw how Carlisle closed his eyes and turned his head away, trying to stop the scent of her blood from influencing his next decisions

“It’s not gonna do anything to her, blood’s too old for that. I decided to try it out with my own blood first, seeing as me and Bella had the same blood type too.” Stella explained, grabbing a bottle with a straw and dripping the blood in it “A witch’s blood is sweeter than human blood. She needs to get used to the blood’s feeling first before switching to a human blood.”

“I’m gonna be sick.” Jacob said, moving further away from the two

“I suggest you get used to this.” Stella said, before walking fast to where Bella was, Carlisle trailing behind her

“Stella, you’re back.” Bella weakly called, trying to plaster a smile

“Oh dear.” Stella said, seeing Bella’s case “You look—

“Like I’m gonna die, I know.” Bella continued for her, a sad smile on her face

“Take this.” Stella ordered softly, sitting next to her and offering a straw “It’s a witch’s blood.”

“Her blood, in particular.” Carlisle added, kind of assuring Bella

Bella drank from the straw. It was a horrifying sight, but she was willing to go to any length to keep Bella alive. Even breaking the pledge that she made to herself

She eventually began to drink more, slowly finishing the entire glass. The sight astounded Carlisle, Bella appeared to be in better health than before, and he felt that things would be easier now that Stella had returned with newfound knowledge. After all, she is his clever and confident witch.

“Stella?” Edward asked, entering the house just after a hunt. Rosalie, Jasper, and Emmett behind him with curious and shocked looks on their faces

“Bella needs to get blood from another source. The baby in her is taking all the blood that she could have.” Carlisle explained to them “Stella found it from her readings.”

“What she’s drinking now is my blood but left out in the open for a few days, if you’re confused with the scent.” Stella explained to them “A witch’s blood is sweeter than a human blood. What we’re just gonna do is to get her used to the texture of the blood before switching to a human blood.”

“How many bags of your blood do you still have?” Carlisle asked Stella

“I have three more.” Stella answered calmly

“So, are we not gonna talk about how Stella just left and came back like it was nothing?” Rosalie asked. Stella stared at Rosalie and realized that her quick departure had betrayed her the most, but she had no choice. She had to do everything she could to help Bella, especially because Carlisle was just as uninformed as the rest of them.

“I had to return to Italy, where I had left most of my books, and I wanted to know whether any of them mentioned a vampire-human kid and how the mother can survive.” Stella explained to them “I’m sorry for leaving without some sort of goodbye, but I know you all will not let me go if I tell you that I’m leaving for Italy.”

She went in front of Rosalie and opened her arms for a hug. Rosalie quickly rushed in for the hug, missing the mother figure that she’s had ever since her transition to vampire. The others joined in the hug, all mentioning their wishes that she doesn’t do something like that ever again.

Carlisle learned from too many late-night chats with Stella that she never wanted to return to Italy since the only nice thing that came out of it was him. He felt something stir in him when Stella decided to take lead in this moment where he had little knowledge.

Suddenly, them being together made perfect sense.

“Stella, help!” Edward called in distress. Stella rushed in, seeing Bella be the most fragile thing there is in the room

“Have you injected the syringe?” Stella asked and he quickly nodded

“Where’s Carlisle?” She asked again, watching as Edward starts doing chest compressions on her

“Outside, they’re fighting off the wolves.” He answered, biting all skin available in hopes that she had just enough time for her transition from man to vampire

Stella rushed out, seeing her family fight off wolves, she pushed one away from Alice with her magic before hearing the shapeshifter’s thoughts

‘The witch is mine’ one wolf ordered to the others, before a pure black wolf attacked her, pulling her by her shoulders

“No!” She heard Carlisle yelled, quickly punching the wolf attacking him and rushing to where she was. Seth attacked the black wolf, helping Stella get composure and tie the black wolf with red ropes from her magic.

Carlisle pulled Stella near him, not wanting to be separated from her. They moved to be near the house, doing everything in their power to fend off the wolves against Bella.

They were outnumbered. Stella looked at Carlisle, hoping that this wouldn’t be their end. If they were attacking this aggressively, it meant one thing.

Bella was dead.

Stella being distracted from Bella’s death had gotten her to be dragged away by a wolf, throwing her into the depths of the forest, hitting her back into one of the trees. She winced in pain but decided to stand up and fight from behind. She started flicking her hands, throwing the wolves just as they had thrown her.

One attacked behind her, pushing her to the front of the vampires, she was sure that something in her was bleeding. Carlisle helped her up, she was wincing from the pain. Jacob was in front in his wolf form, he was intimidating the wolves.

“Jacob imprinted. They can’t hurt her.” Edward announced to everyone

“Whoever a wolf imprints on can’t be harmed.” He continued, a look of relief on his face “It’s their most absolute law.”

“Da columbam albam si spes nulla est (give the white dove if there is no hope).” Stella chanted over a small white candle

“Duce, mea numina (give me guidance, my gods).” Stella prayed again, closing her eyes and murmuring the same two spells two more times before blowing the candle out

“Your forbidden spells.” Carlisle said, hearing her chant in Latin

“Carlisle.” Stella called in shock. She had planned to hide it from him for as long as possible.

“Since when?” Carlisle asked, sitting next to her

“When I left, I knew that I had to learn it. For Bella.” Stella explained

“But you said before that you feared using that in fear of using the guidance instead of accepting the consequences.” Carlisle said

“And let her die?” Stella asked “I know my limitations. And I know that you’ll help me with controlling my desire too.”

“When I came back to Italy, Sam was still there.” Stella started, getting Carlisle’s full attention. He moved to sit next to her, scared that this will be one of the last moments that he’ll be with her

“What happened?” Carlisle asked. He was scared to hear whatever was gonna be her answer, because it could lead into him losing his mate

“He went and hugged me, thinking that I was coming back for him.” Stella said lowly “I told him that it wasn’t my purpose there.”

“What happened next?” Carlisle asked

“When I went home, I did some reading. Not just on Bella’s case. But also, on witches’ mates.” Stella answered

“If a vampire were to offer themselves to a witch, a witch could go and deny them. But not because of not wanting them like I have been taught all my life.” Stella explained to Carlisle

“What is it then?” Carlisle asked

“If a witch does accept the vampire’s offer, the witch and a vampire will then be bonded. Your pain becomes my pain and my pain becomes your pain.” She continued; Carlisle was still not understanding what was the meaning of what she was saying

“If anything happens to you, it will only be a short matter of time until something fatal happens to me.” She explained “The reason why witches deny the vampires is because they know that vampires are easy to kill. No witch is strong enough to accept that their life will end after their mate dies.”

“Do you think that it’s a big deal?” Carlisle asked quietly

“I want you to live after my death.” Stella answered, the thought of Carlisle dying when she dies haunting her. Her accepting his offer to be his mate would be a life sentence for him

“Do…do you think that I’ll be able to live a life without you in it?” Carlisle asked quietly as Stella wept from the possibilities of her death causing an end to his as well

“I cannot ask you to do that for me.” She murmured “They will need you; you know that.”

“I need you.” Carlisle said almost immediately “I need you to know just how much I’m willing to be yours.”

Carlisle softly grabbed Stella face, wiping all of the tear marks off her face. Before pulling her for a soft kiss. Stella wasn’t a master with words, but the emotions that Carlisle felt during their kiss made him understand just how much she needed him too.

Carlisle understood now, that if he were to offer Stella to be his mate, that she would accept wholeheartedly.

He wanted it done soon.

He wanted it done now.

“I’m yours, mi amor. All yours.” Carlisle softly announced to her

“You own all of me. Even before you had the thought of loving me.” Carlisle continued, rubbing his nose against Stella’s nose

“I’m all yours to love. All yours to live with. All yours to be with for an eternity. I’m all yours.”

Carlisle pulled her for another kiss, but this time it was softer. And calmer, but so, so filled with love.

It was right when they say that they’ve waited far too long for this.

“I love you.” Stella whispered as she pulled away from the kiss

“I love you more.” Carlisle answered back immediately, cupping her cheeks as he plants kisses all over her face

#carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #twilight saga #alice cullen #bella swan #edward cullen #jasper hale #no esme on this one (i love her though i promise)#rosalie hale #the cullens #emmett cullen #twilight renaissance #twilight x reader #twilight

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shi-daisy · 9 days

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Spring Beast and Silver Queen

Day 6 and here we have the second otp! Like Tamcien (or Feylincien) and Neris own my heart but Neslin has so much potential that I wouldn't mind them being endgame in a Canon. So here's a little oneshot for them with some Fairytale tropes. Hope you like!

@tamlinweek

Tamlin Week 2024- Day 6- Fairy Tale AU

Spring Beast & Silver Queen

Nesta walked onto the decayed manor, it was just as destroyed as the rest of the court.

Lucien might be the only one to come here out of genuine care, but if the mild mannered redhead couldn't do more than this that meant the High Lord was all but dead inside. She understood. Nesta felt the same way.

She found Tamlin sleeping. The male was in his beast form, like that day when he came to their cottage and took her sister. There were times she wished that hadn't happened. Now, she just wished she'd ran when she had the chance.

It didn't matter anymore. It was either Spring or a lock up on Night, and she'd take her chances with the wilted flowers.

Nesta came into the room slowly. A bird that slept on Tamlin's mane woke up, and left out the window, sparing her one last glance.

She kneeled on the floor and gently patted the man. He was alive, just deeply asleep, and he looked so very weak.

'Guess they've broken us both.' She thought.

Who had once been a monster to her now looked so very defenseless and sad Nesta felt compelled to be kind. Maybe being here wouldn't be so bad, at least Tamlin wouldn't bother her about her drinking if the empty wine bottles were any indication.

She didn't know why, but Nesta decided to plant a soft kiss on the beasts forhead, and wait for him to wake. Nesta didn't have to wait long.

Tamlin turned from beast to fae form in a flash, and when his emerald eyes fell on her their bond snapped.

***

A deep silence fell upon the room as he sat up and stared at Nesta who was equally surprised and stunned.

"I...Think you know what this means."

"Yes..."

"Wait! Why are you here, Lady Nesta? Is this another strange dream?"

"Afraid not. I'll explain."

She told him of her downward spiral, of her sister's betrayal and the choice she was given. It nearly made his magic spiral in a rage.

"Stay here I'd that's what you want. I swear I shall protect you." Tamlin managed to say.

"...What about the bond?"

"If you keep it, they cannot take you away. Once we're certain they won't hurt you, then you may do as you wish with it."

It hurt to say, to denounce something he'd once wanted, despite knowing of it worst sides thanks to his parents, and yet...he wanted to prioritize Nesta's free will. It was clear she needed it.

Especially when her frown turned into a slight smile. "I appreciate it."

Baby steps, in time they could be friends.

***

Lucien had come to visit. After she explained the situation the redhead not only returned to stay with his partners but he cut off all ties to Night.

"We will help you rebuild this court!"

That was all they needed to let the Band of Exiles become part of the Spring council.

The Spring Library was a marvel after it was cleaned and she took to devouring every book she could. It helped fix the court and bring back the population.

In a few months things were already looking up, and Tamlin wouldn't stop thanking her. "Lucien did most of the administrative work. Vassa is in charge of diplomacy and Jurian is training the sentries. Why are you thanking me too?"

"Because if you hadn't arrived that day. I wouldn't be here right now. Your silver flame is what kept me holding on and made me rebuild what I shouldn't have left crumble. Thank you."

His gentle hand on hers gave her pause. Despite the slow friendship they'd cultivated and the bond that kept her safe, sometimes Nesta doubted a man like him could want her if it wasn't because of the mating bond. Still, she didn't want to break it. Her safety was at stake but also...she didn't want to hurt Tamlin further.

Nesta felt a tear slide down her cheek, but it was soon wiped away as Tamlin kissed her forehead. "You don't have to say anything. If I have to wait forever I shall. You're worth waiting for."

Worth. She hadn't heard that from anyone.

"There's a lot I still must deal with, but when I do. I'm certain you'll be who I want to spend my time with."

"I'm honored to hear that."

***

Tamlin often thought that beyond any person music would remain his ultimate love. Perhaps that would've been right, as he played his fiddle before the Calanmai celebrations and everyone danced with joy.

Then she stepped into the scene wearing the long sleeved silver dress he'd gotten for her and the glass shoes he'd seen her eyeing at the boutique.

Nesta was a delightful dancer. He knew she loved music as much as he did when she organized all his sheets and instruments with great care, probably more than the books.

Nesta danced beautifully for him, and he didn't remember the last time he'd played that well. By the time the song ended and she stopped dancing, Tamlin had picked her up in his arms and they shared a kiss.

"I love you." Nesta said, and he couldn't help but cry.

"I love you too."

No other Calanmai had left him as breathless and full of joy

***

Eventually they came for her a little over week after their bond was sealed and their frenzy over.

Nesta nearly barbecued the entire inner circle when they tried to get close to Tamlin. He'd wrapped them in thorned vines.

"We are mated. We are happy. We won't bend to you if you're trying to get the crown. Leave!" He said.

Cassian glared at her and Nesta regarded him with indifference, she had the man of her dreams right by her side and wore a crown of roses rather than chains of stars. The only ones she'd mourn for were her sisters, but she was free and she wouldn't apologize for it. Let the. Make their choice for themselves.

And they did. Because when shadows took her to the House of Wind and she was locked in its tower, Nesta could hear a battle far away in the Velaris palace. By now she'd realized Morrigan was the traitor and that Feyre had joined her, but she couldn't wait for them to rescue her. She had to get out herself.

Rhysand had brought her back to fight for Night's side. She wouldn't and so he locked her up. But he forgot she had power and she had read enough to figure out the end of the tale.

Nesta used her power to create thin threads of silver. They grew from her hair and she made sure to tie them onto the balcony rails. It wasn't enough to reach the ground safely, but she wouldn't need to. She saw a figure of green and was aware he High Lord came to save her.

With rope of hair in hand she jumped from the balcony of the tower and safely mounted Tamlin, who was now a dragon.

"My silver flower"

"My fiddler lord."

They flew away as the Obsidian castle in the distance was swallowed up a black hole in the sky. Both of them were worried until the event passed and the castle was nothing but rubble left away.

After landing they spotted Lucien in the distance with the healers. She saw Feyre and Mor with them, out cold but alive.

Tamlin and Nesta both breathed a sigh of relief. Then they looked at eachother. Nesta smiled at the sight of her mate, her beloved and the man who'd come to her rescue.

Tamlin pulled her close, holding his savior, his queen and his beloved.

Nesta kissed him, using words he'd once said to someone else yet were never returned until now. "I love you, thorns & all."

"And love you, my queen Nesta Acheron."

Two birds flew over them as they shared a kiss, into their happily ever after.

#tamlinweek 2024 #tamlin #nesta acheron #neslin #Day 6: Fairy Tale AU

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aphrodisiac-siren · 1 year

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Innocence- Aemond X OC

Summary: War is an ugly thing; Something that is common knowledge to all and yet something people resort to anyway when conflicts arise. It was not something Eirlys Velaryon wanted though, nor what Aemond Targaryen wanted as well. It was a war they were dragged into, and suffering they had to endure for crimes they were innocent of.

Warnings: Smut [18+ minors DNI]

Masterlist

Part 6

It had been a few days since Aemond and Eirlys' conversation and things were slowly starting to get better between the two.

It still wasn't the same as all once was but she had started to acknowledge his presence and converse with him, so that was something Aemond considered as progress.

Yet the prince had still got Daeron to deal with. The boy didn't seem fazed at all by his older brother's threats and he most certainly didn't seem to be holding back with his advances on Eirlys.

"I should take my leave" Aemond stood up from his chair "Cole will be awaiting me at the yard"

Aemond and Eirlys had been at the library for the entirety of the morning. The prince and his princess were both reading a book transcripted in high valerian. The boy occasionally grinned with pride when Eirlys managed to perfectly translate sentences and even form grammatically accurate sentences of her own, now showcasing a lot more familiarity with the language that she previously used to struggle with.

"You should" Eirlys replied with a smile.

"Should I walk you back to your chambers?" He sweetly asked.

"You needn't bother" she politely declined his offer "I wish to stay here and read some more"

"May I get a kiss before I depart?" He smirked as he took his chance, still craving for that kiss she'd denied him days ago.

"You may not" the princess crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned forward, antagonising him further "but do keep trying my prince, maybe someday I might just give in"

"You're playing a dangerous game" Aemond jested as he chuckled at her resilience. He smiled at her one last time before he bowed "princess"

"My prince" she gave him a curt nod before he took his leave.

Once she was sure he'd left the library, she quickly rose to her feet and made her way to a certain isle as she began to scan through all of them in search of a certain book she'd eyed a few nights earlier.

She'd wished she'd have just borrowed it that very night but Aegon ended up doing it the day after and had only returned it the previous night.

A smile danced across her lips when her fingers traced the spine of the book she was on the hunt for, the old leather bind feeling rough beneath her touch.

She wasted no time in pulling the book out and away from the rest before she made her way back to her chair in the corner of the room, shielded away from most of the visitors of the library.

She skimmed through some of the pages, not quite finding what she was looking for just yet. She could feel her heart race as a certain sensation of adrenaline washed over her with an undertone of curiosity.

"Eirlys"

She quickly shut the book.

"What?" Daeron asked at her sudden change in behaviour.

"Nothing, just startled me is all" she quickly responded "Aemond has already left, if that's why you're here-"

"That's a book based on erotica" The prince calmly stated, his expression still staying emotionless "didn't think I would find you reading it"

"Is it that surprising for a woman to give into her curiosity?" Eirlys briskly questioned with a raise of her brow as she eyed the prince.

"It's the level of vulgarity used in the book that had me surprised to find you interested enough to read it" Daeron took a step forward as he momentarily eyed the book "since when have you taken an interest in such fancies"

"As I mentioned, it's purely out of curiosity" Eirlys stood up.

"The things mentioned though" he pointed at the book "I'm afraid the words will do them little justice as opposed to experiencing them for yourself, don't you agree?"

Eirlys' eyes widened as she stood there speechless when she heard him remotely suggest the idea of indulging sex rather than just merely reading about it.

"Oh don't tell me you're..." the boy trailed off before he cleared his throat, her silence giving him the answer he was looking for "you've never partaken in anything intimate have you?"

"That is none of your concern" she sharply told him, not willing to admit that she was still inexperienced. And of course there stood the fact that that bit of information was private.

"Nothing to be ashamed of" he shrugged as he fought back the urge to grin at how innocent she truly was "most men prefer a woman untouched"

"What makes you think this has anything to do with how I am to be perceived or desired by men?" Eirlys questioned with a hint of venom lacing her words, not all liking being subjected to making her decisions based on the whims and fancies of men.

"Does it have to do with my brother's negligence then?" He pried further, not taking the hint that Eirlys was not interested in prolonging this conversation any more that what was already spoken. He was so accustomed to Aegon talking about such subjects as comfortably and shamelessly as any other conversation that he didn't really understand that this was an improper topic.

"How does any of this concern you?" Eirlys asked after a pause, momentarily thinking about how she should've just gone to her chambers instead of staying back "besides, a woman of my status cannot afford to lose her virtue before she has been wed"

"Who said anything about losing your virtue" Daeron made a face at how little she knew "you needn't have to sacrifice that to lose yourself to pleasure.. have you never touched yourself?"

"I- I beg your pardon?"

Daeron stood there with his mouth agape when he realised the depth of her innocence. She knew almost nothing about intimacy with perhaps the exception of the vague idea of what a man and woman usually do on the night of their wedding.

"I see that Aemond has left you deprived" he huffed a sigh "seems as though he wants to keep you from these-"

"They're not Aemond's decisions to make" Eirlys gathered her things to leave, not wanting to talk any further on the subject "they're mine"

"Why are you still betrothed to him?" Daeron blurted out "that twat does very little to show you he feels for you"

"Hold your tongue, prince Daeron" Eirlys' tone grew dark. Of course she and Aemond had a bit of a fall out but he was still her closest friend and her betrothed. She wouldn't allow another to speak ill against him, let alone talk her out of this marriage "you forget yourself. He is your elder and my future lord husband. The next time you chose to speak his name with no regard of respect toward him, I will have your tongue for it"

Daeron grinned at her words. She'd used the very same threat Aemond had and for some reason it make him chuckle at how alike their thoughts were.

"Thought you were upset at him for how he had been treating you" he recalled the time he'd seen her crying in the library "though now it is evident that the air has been cleared out between the both of you"

"Oh and besides" she walked away from her table, making her way to the isles of books that led her to the exit "intimacy isn't the only way to express one's feelings, as you so put it"

"I agree, it isn't the only way" the boy took a step toward as he reached out to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger as the tips of his fingers ever so slightly grazed her skin in his attempt to caress her cheek "but actions hold a lot more weight over words, wouldn't you agree, princess?"

"I shall take my leave" Eirlys simply replied as she walked past him, clutching all her books tightly.

"Page six and twenty" he called out without turning to look at her "you might find those of use"

"You did not" Halaena sighed with disbelief.

"I did" Daeron replied obliviously.

Daeron had told his sister Halaena about his conversation with Eirlys and how surprised he was with how very little she was educated on the topic of concern.

Halaena was taken aback by how boldly he spoke to the Valeryon princess about intimacy.

"She is so innocent" he commented with an eagerness to tell his older sister everything.

"And you're just as stupid as she is innocent" the older girl muttered "you can't question a woman or anyone else regarding such personal matters"

"But Aegon talks about it so often"

"Aegon is an idiot"

Daeron stared at his sister with disbelief with how quick she was to throw an insult at her husband as opposed to Aemond and Eirlys who would slit someone's throat if they dared to speak ill of either one of them.

He didn't understand how they could care so much about each other especially since they weren't wed yet.

Nor did he understand how they'd managed to go on so long without a single act of intimacy.

Halaena spent the rest of the afternoon giving her youngest brother a good scolding for how moronic it was of him to interrogate Eirlys about her private matters.

Daeron still failed to see what exactly was improper about his questions and Halaena had Aegon to thank for it.

Meanwhile Eirlys was busy reading the book she'd borrowed, each chapter seeming more gripping than the last.

A gentle knock on the door made her shut the book and shove it under her pillow before she shouted out a 'come in' for whoever was at the other side of the door.

As she'd expected, it was Aemond.

The boy began to ramble about his training and how much he'd improved as he walked toward her bed.

He made himself comfortable, quickly taking a pause from his ranting to assure her he had washed up and changed into a clean set of clothes.

He had his hair tied back into a bun and he lazily took off his eye patch to toss it on her side table.

Eirlys admired the older boy as he continued to ramble about how he'd almost beat Cole during his training in close combat. She watched as the corners of his lips ever so slightly curled up into a smile or how he looked at her from time to time to observe her reaction to what he was saying. How the blue of his sapphire glimmered when the light hit it just right. How he licked his lips, in between sentences, that she so desperately wanted to kiss but held herself back because of her pride.

He looked breathtaking with his hair tied back and his pale sage shirt that left some of his chest exposed. His sleeves rolled back to show off his slightly buff arms littered with a few faint scars.

Not being able to retain control over herself, she reached forward and cupped his faced with one hand, her other rested on his chest that his loose shirt had so conveniently left exposed.

Aemond's rambling was suddenly silenced and he sat there with eye wide open for a few seconds before he could fully process what was happening.

His eye fluttered shut a few moments later as his hand snaked around her waist, pulling her frame closer.

Aemond's heart began to race when he felt her fingers trace his bare skin. Her hands glided lower until she'd reached the hem of his shirt.

Eirlys hesitated for a moment but then she felt Aemond's tongue run over her bottom lip and her hand instinctively went under his shirt to feel his toned abs.

Aemond gasped into the kiss as he felt her cold hands against his abdomen before he breathed out her name.

"Eirlys"

This made the princess crave even more of him and she tugged on his shirt to beckon for him to remove it.

Aemond was hesitant at first but obliged.

He barely gave her any time to admire his physique before he crashed his lips into her again, pulling her even more closer to him.

Eirlys gingerly ran the tips of her fingers along the waist band of his trousers and that made the boy snap his eye open.

"Wait" he called out, breathless "what happened"

He knew Eirlys better than anyone. As much as she enjoyed kissing him, he knew she was still quiet oblivious to the rest of the displays of affection that involved being intimate.

Yet she was presently exhibiting to him this new found eagerness to indulge in said intimacy; and the sudden shift in behaviour had him puzzled.

"I'm confused" He told her sweetly, still holding her "why the sudden urges"

"Is it that surprising that your betrothed missed you?" Eirlys leaned in for another kiss that Aemond melted into.

He turned to his side to better face her and propped himself up on his elbow. His elbow, however pushed back the pillow he was resting on, slightly, and he felt something hard against his skin.

He broke away from the kiss to get rid of whatever was making the bed uncomfortable and picked up the pillow.

Eirlys' eyes widened but before she could snatch away whatever was under the pillow, Aemond had already caught sight of it.

"You've been reading erotica" he simply stated as he eyed the old leather bound book "that explains the new found unrest"

The girl could feel the heat rise to her cheeks and she looked away with embarrassment.

She couldn't deny that she was intrigued by whatever she'd read, perhaps even eager to experience those things for herself.

She thought about what Daeron had said, how she didn't have to give up her virtue to feel all of it and after reading those stories she was craving that sort of sensation mentioned with descriptive and lewd words.

"Not like this Eirlys" Aemond sighed "not because you're suddenly eager to experience what you've read"

"But-"

"Only when you're truly ready" he kissed her forehead "right now your mind is just fogged up by lust and curiosity"

"I'm nearly a woman grown" she groaned with a hint of annoyance "and I'm the only one who's has yet to partake in this. Daeron said-"

"Daeron?" Aemond's tone suddenly shifted from loving to dark "what did he tell you?"

"He was just stunned by how very little I knew about matters like these" she toyed with the fabric of her dress as she told him about their encounter the day before, leaving out the part where he'd accused Aemond for leaving her deprived of such pleasures "and if it's any consolation, I don't have to part with my virtue"

"You want me to.." Aemond pinched the bridge of his nose to suppress his anger. Daeron had no business nor right trying to persuade her with getting intimate "only because my brother questioned you about it? It's not even his place to do so!"

"I know" Eirlys held his hand in an attempt to have him calm down "but I'm not asking this of you solely because he brought it up"

"Did he give you the book too?" The prince asked, ready to march to his brother's room and push him out the balcony if Eirlys said yes.

"No" she looked at their hands "that was something I was eager to read without the influence of anyone"

Aemond took a deep breath before exhaling slowly.

He was tempted of course, to kiss her some more and then pleasure her between her legs. He'd relieved himself multiple times by thinking of her and he deep down did have the urge to rip her dress off and devour every inch of her.

But he knew in that moment her thoughts were influenced by another and she was making her current decision only because someone else had pointed out to her that she was far too innocent.

Aemond liked that about her, infact that was something he still wanted to protect. However, if she did want him to get on his knees for her he would, but he wanted that command to escape from her lips only when she desired it and not because it was a momentary rush of emotions that washed over her after she'd read a lewd book or influenced by an annoying younger brother.

He couldn't and wouldn't act on such an impulsive request.

The last thing he wanted was for her to later feel uncomfortable or regret. He wouldn't let her go through any of it and worse, be the cause of it.

"Not like this" he repeated himself as he squeezed her hand gently before bringing it up to his lips to plant a kiss.

It had almost been a week since Eirlys had borrowed that book from the library and since she'd read it now, she didn't have any reason to hold on to it much longer.

She went back to the library, as she did on most days after supper, and walked toward the same shelf she'd retrieved the book from.

The large leather bound book slid back into its place amidst the other old books on the shelf.

And now even though she was somewhat aware of the book's contents, Eirlys knew she was still a stranger to the things mentioned within the pages.

The distant sound of footsteps had her turn around toward the direction of the sound to find herself making the acquaintance of Daeron.

"Princess" he gave her a curt nod.

"Daeron" she greeted him back.

"I uh" the boy nervously cleared this throat as he nervously glanced around "I wish to formally apologise to you about the way I... the things I asked you about... that day I-"

"I know" she gave him a small smile as she recalled him referring to his questions about her inexperience with sex and intimacy.

"Aegon speaks of it so often and with such normality that I never thought of it as an improper topic" he went on with a nervous chuckle "Halaena gave me a good smack to the back of my head alongside a few words counselling me on how to talk to a lady"

Eirlys smiled to herself upon thinking about the mental image of Halaena giving him a whack.

"It was wrong of me to pry on such personal matters. Again, apologies" he pressed his lips into a line before proceeding to talk again after a long pause "d-does my brother know of our conversation?"

"He does" Eirlys simply replied.

"It's a wonder I'm still in one piece" Daeron sighed playfully as he rolled his eyes "I'd expect him to take my head off in my sleep"

"That's an act of cowardice, where's the honour in that?"

Daeron looked puzzled at first before Aemond stepped ahead from behind one of the bookshelves, holding a small book in his hand.

"If I had to kill you" Aemond continued nonchalantly "I'd do it in broad daylight where everyone can see"

"You'd kill your brother, your blood, because he exchanged words with your woman?" Daeron raised a brow.

"Oh you did far more than just exchange mere words. No, you somehow managed to make her question her disinterest in the subject at hand" Aemond shut the book he was reading "what did you expect? That she'd all of a sudden crave it so bad that she'd run to you?"

Eirlys' eyes widened at the sudden turn this conversation had taken.

"No I did not" Daeron snapped "I knew you were depraving her of it. I merely wanted to point out what she was missing out on. And if she did come to me, I wouldn't have minded, someone has to be the one who keeps her happy"

It barely took a second for something to snap inside Aemond.

He abruptly threw his book to the ground, rather carelessly before he caught Daeron by his collar and shoved him against one of the shelves.

"Aemond..." Eirlys took a few steps toward him, in hopes to talk him out of acting out of anger.

"You dare speak of defiling my betrothed" Aemond's jaw clenched with anger as he spoke through gritted teeth "do not take advantage of my patience you..."

"Go on" Daeron smirked shamelessly at the long pause "what were you going to say?"

"Something I will not utter in the presence of the princess" Aemond swiftly replied "I do not wish to use vile profanities in the presence of my lady"

"All you've ever done is hurt her" Daeron scoffed as he tried to push Aemond off but the younger prince did not measure up to the strength of his older brother "I've spent days listening to her talk about how unbearable each day got, I've held her each time she cried-"

"Daeron-" Eirlys tried again but was interrupted.

"Mere acts of kindness like that does not give you the right to talk of bedding her" Aemond's grasp on Daeron's neck tightened "do you realise how perverse and desperate you sound?"

"I never said I wanted to bed-"

"Boys enough!" The princess raised her voice. She did not wish for either of them to turn on each other on account of her.

The princes did cease their argument but Aemond did not let got of Daeron yet.

"Eirlys" his tone quickly shifted from cold and hostile to calm and tender as he looked over his shoulder to talk to her "leave the room"

"I do not wish to be the reason any animosity brews between you both" she looked sternly at the two of them "stop this right now"

"This isn't your doing" Aemond looked menacingly at Daeron "some people don't understand that they shouldn't meddle amidst things that do not concern them"

Daeron simply rolled his eyes in response.

"Leave us" Aemond asked Eirlys once more as he finally let go of Daeron "I wish to have a word with my brother"

Eirlys did not move. She just glanced between them both, half expecting them to suddenly break out into a brawl.

"A civil conversation I can assure you" The older boy told her when he sensed the hesitation in her to leave.

Eirlys heaved a sigh before walking out without saying anything.

The moment her footsteps faded Aemond held Daeron by the collar once again when he saw the boy sigh with relief, thinking as if Aemond was done with him.

"Have you no shame thinking about her in that way? She might not know you seek to get in between us but do you think she would even want you to begin with?" Aemond hissed "she is loving and gentle and has treated you with kindness all along. Unfortunately, I am none of those things"

"Which is exactly why you are not deserving of her" Daeron muttered.

"I meant toward you, you twat" Aemond was tempted to punch him.

"I simply want what's best for her"

"No, you simply want everything for yourself" the older boy chuckled out of mockery "everything I have gained so far, I've had to struggle and fight for. Vhagar, my title as the best swordsman... do you wish to have me fight for my right to happiness as well?"

"I have never acted with intention to make your life miserable or to plot against your happiness-"

"Eirlys is my happiness and I will not allow your momentary desire for her to form a rift in between us" he snapped "I would say I appreciate you providing comfort for her when I was absent to do so, but your intentions were not of honour"

"My princes" Cole called out from a distance, hesitant to approach whatever argument was going on between the two "you both are late for your training with the sword at the yard"

Aemond aggressively shoved Daeron away.

"I shall see you at the yard brother" he glared at the younger boy "for your sake I do hope your sword is as sharp as your tongue"

The boys did not resolve their dispute at the library and carried that anger to the training field.

And as expected, they let out their frustrations whilst they duelled which at first started out as an aggressive fight but then later turned into a violent show of display with both boys landing fatalistic blows which resulted in the involvement of the king's guard to have the princes dragged apart to put a halt to their fight.

Both Aemond and Daeron were severely hurt and were escorted back to their respective chambers whilst Criston sent for the maesters.

Eirlys was later made aware of this and immediately left whatever she was doing to check in on them, visiting Aemond first.

The boy had a deep cut on his left upper arm and a large bruise on his torso. He had another cut near his right temple that wasn't as severe but was still left uncleaned. He was lying down on his bed when she entered his chambers, his shirt and eye patch amiss. His boots were carelessly kicked to the floor and his hair was tied back messily into a bun.

The princess winced when she laid eyes upon the deep shades blues and purples of the bruise, now sprawled against his even toned abdomen.

She instinctively grabbed the bowl of water by his bed and pulled out a handkerchief to dip into the water.

"I thought you said it would be a civil conversation" she asked as she went to sit beside him on his bed and gently wiped away the dried up blood on his face.

"The conversation was civil, the dual however was not" Aemond shrugged, trying his best to not wince when she accidentally wiped against the cut "but it's nothing too alarming; just few bruises, scratches and broken arms"

"What" Eirlys' gaze snapped away from his wound and back toward him "you broke an arm? Why isn't it in a sling?"

"Well I-"

"Which arm is hurt?" She asked again as she examined both arms, hoping to figure out which was the one that was injured "which arm did you break?"

"Daeron's" Aemond nervously responded as he looked away for a moment.

"Aemond Targaryen what is wrong with you" Eirlys snapped with disbelief as she put away the bowl and now blood-stained handkerchief "he is your brother"

"I didn't do it with intent" Aemond defended himself as he sat up straight only to wince in pain because of the sudden movement "I got carried away"

"You need to have a hold over your rage" she gently placed her hand on his shoulder to urge him to lie back down on the pillows.

"I am quiet patient" he told her without any expression "but I do not tolerate anyone talking about my betrothed in the manner that he did. Brother or not I will deal with them the same way"

"I can handle things pertaining to me just fine" she sighed "now if you'll excuse me I must-"

"Do not tell me you are going to visit him" Aemond groaned in annoyance, acting like a child.

"And what if I say that I am?"

"I don't want you to" he turned to look at her as he reached out to hold her hand "stay with me, please"

This wasn't about her just visiting Daeron.

Aemond wanted her near him, especially since he'd just fought with his brother over her. He was so afraid all of a sudden of losing her all over again.

He recalled the night he'd lost his eye.

How Eirlys had held his hand as the maester stitched the wound shut.

How genuinely concerned she was of him.

And then how she left his side to stand with her brother's, one of which had taken his eye in the first place.

Even now, he was injured by his own kin and Eirlys was in thought of going to visit Daeron.

He wouldn't force her to wait, but he desperately wished she would, for once, stay by his side.

"Alright" she shifted closer to him "but no more fights"

"I can't promise you that" Aemond grinned at her "you know I would kill for you"

"You can't resort to using the sword each time someone angers you"

"Which is why I also have a dragon at my disposal" Aemond winked.

Eirlys rolled her eyes as she chuckled at his response.

"Does the king know of what happened?" She asked "that both his sons almost slit each others throats?"

"Not yet. He grows weaker by the day. I doubt mother would want to further antagonise him by giving him the news of his sons turning against each other, not that he would care" Aemond sighed as he recalled the king's diminishing health "and his memory is starting to fail him"

"Is that so?" Eirlys seemed puzzled as how his current condition could affect his memory.

"Atleast that's the conclusion I've come to. The other and only explanation being that he was never much of a father. The latter option stings" the older boy muttered "the other night I was reading to him about the histories of old Valyria and when I was done he thanked me and called me Daemon before correcting himself "

"Well he did correct-"

"And then proceeded to call me Aegon" Aemond sounded so horrified as he recalled the events "I have been maimed for life but being mistaken for Aegon was something I took a much greater offence too"

The two continued their conversation with Aemond still fondly holding on to Eirlys' hand.

Alicent, as soon as she was made aware of the incident that took place between her sons, was left troubled.

She wasn't aware of Daeron's fancy toward the young Velaryon princess nor did she ever think that both her sons would resort to putting each one to the blade to win her over.

This sudden rivalry between them was dangerous and if found out by the others, word would spread and could be used to divide their house further.

The wedding between Aemond and Eirlys needed to happen fast to avoid any further conflict between the princes.

She would not allow the family to be torn apart on account of the boys' desire for the princess.

She sent for her father to discuss the issue before she could talk to Aemond and Eirlys about it.

She hoped the matter of the wedding would not arise anytime soon since she was already preoccupied with matters pertaining to the king's health.

But it was clear that the wedding couldn't be delayed any further.

She brought out some parchment from her drawer and reached for the quill and ink to write down the things she would have to attend to once the preparations for the wedding ceremony were to commence.

It didn't take long for word to spread about the rough fight between the youngest of the Targaryen brothers.

And though the cause behind was still unclear to the others, it confirmed one thing: that the one eyed prince and his brother had come to despise one another.

Gossip like this would only spread which made the queen even more anxious and in a hurry to plan the wedding.

Aemond and Eirlys were still not aware of the rest of the family already in preparations for their wedding ceremony.

To them it was any other evening after supper.

Eirlys had retired herself from the court and the rest of the family to bathe.

She had been practising archery followed by a bit of swordplay, courtesy of Aemond, and then circled the castle on Ember.

She had the servants help her out of her dress and undo her braids before she stepped into the large tub of hot water and some expensive oils awaiting her. She scrubbed away the dirt and basked in the fragrance that the oils provided.

Once she had gotten out of the bath and dried herself, she slipped into the comfort of one of her many silk nightgowns. She put away her dainty jewellery, that she'd worn for the day, into the wooden box that the servants had left on her dresser before she went to bathe.

She stared at herself in the mirror, taking in the changes in her appearance. She quiet obviously looked much different that how she did when her mother left for Dragonstone. Her hair was longer in comparison, almost reaching her waist. Her face looked more sculpted.

Her eyes darted lower to gaze at the slight visibility of her cleavage. Her breasts weren't as big as she'd liked them to be, but they weren't as little either.

Her thoughts wandered off to what she'd read in that book, something she couldn't quiet seem to forget.

She'd been thinking about it too much as of late, to a point where it left her distracted from the task she was presently preoccupied with.

Earlier that day she pricked her finger while she was busy with embroidery because her mind was someplace else.

She often caught herself making up instances in which Aemond would perform on her the lewd things she'd read in the book and it made the blood rush to her cheeks before she snapped out of her daze.

Aemond hadn't given into her wants the last time and now, a number of days after, she was beginning to crave it even more.

This time she wasn't tempted to do so on account of someone else's inquiries or nitpicking.

This time she wanted it for herself.

She wanted him.

With a frustrated sigh she left her room, not bothering to drape her dress robe around her before she marched up to Aemond's chambers.

She knew he'd still be awake, probably reading one of his books on philosophy or scrolles about the histories of the realm.

She knocked on his door an impatiently waited for him.

Aemond had a hunch that it would be Eirlys awaiting him on the other side of the door, it wasn't uncommon for her to show up after supper.

Yet the reason behind this visit was something he would never have guessed.

Aemond hadn't even managed to open the door completely before which Eirlys had already proceeded to reach forward and wrap her arms around his neck as she pulled him in for a kiss.

"Good evening you you too" he grinned into the kiss as he placed his hand on the small of her back and closed the door once he'd pulled her closer to him and into his quarters.

Once the door was shut he brought his other hand to wrap around her waist, humming softly as their lips moved against each other's in sync.

"Aemond" Eirlys mumbled as she went on her toes to better reach his lips to kiss him.

She didn't know what to say, what words she could possibly string together to inform him of the unrest that blossomed within her and the ache that was starting to grow in between her legs.

The princess had never imagined that she could come to crave for something so desperately without even having a clear idea of what it felt like.

Eirlys was unsure of how to initiate anything. She waltzed in hoping that perhaps Aemond would sense whatever she was feeling but she was well aware that simply kissing him would not hint at anything since it was pretty much a norm between the both of them to simply crave and steal innocent kisses.

As expected, the prince did not seem to uncover the intent with which she'd made this visit and broke away from the kiss to guide her to his table covered with books. He seemed eager to show her one of those books and Eirlys almost didn't want to tell him about her ache that needed to be looked after the moment she saw how his face lit up with excitement as he picked up a rather slim yet old leader bound book that was a deep navy blue colour.

"...and this book has chapters that I hadn't been able to read before since few of the scrolls were amis in our library" he went on "did you know that before-"

"Aemond" Eirlys sheepishly interrupted, biting down on her lower lip nervously.

"Don't do that" he leaned in and pecked her lips in attempt to keep her from biting her own skin "Tell me, what troubles you ñuha prūmia?" (my heart)

The younger girl smiled at the endearment he'd used for her. For a reason unbeknownst to her, the usage of the valerian language to call her that seemed to make her heart race more.

"I..." she tore her gaze away from his "well I was sort of feeling something. A sort of ache, you could say, and I was hoping you would help, relieve me of it"

"Well I am no maester" the boy mumbled as he inched closer "an ache you say. Is it your time of the moon? Does your belly ache because of it?"

"No, not my belly"

"Where do you sense unrest?"

"Well" she looked away once again before she could answer "in between my legs"

"Oh"

Aemond was not expecting that at all.

That would explain the urgency to kiss him, and of course disclose the reason behind her visit. He kept his book back on the table knowing that she was not interested in it for the time being.

"Eirlys," he sighed as he held her gaze "I told you I would do it only when you are truly ready"

"But I am" she insisted "please Aemond"

Aemond could feel his heart hammering against his rib age at her choice of words laced with the tone of desperation.

The way her innocent eyes looked up at him, how she bit her lip that he wanted to capture once again with his own.

He was so tempted to give in.

"I don't want you to regret anything" he spoke softly as he inched closer to gently caress her cheek.

Eirlys rested her forehead against his, resulting in their noses touching and their lips brushing against each other's as she spoke.

"I want you" she breathed out as she rested her hands on his chest.

Aemond closed the gap in between them by pulling her in at the waist and crashing his lips onto her's.

Aemond clutched the fabric of her ivory nightgown tightly as he kissed her hungrily.

He didn't know what came over him but all of a sudden he was just as desperate as she was. Perhaps it was the smell of the oils she'd used that dulled his senses. He quiet liked her choice of scent which was of cinnamon with hints of fruit.

He trailed his kisses from her lips to her jaw, being as agonisingly slow as he possibly could.

"Tilt your head back" he softly murmured against her skin and she obeyed, enjoying the sensation of his teeth grazing against the skin near her jawline.

Aemond kissed and sucked at the skin down her neck, careful that he did not leave any marks. He did not wish for this scandalous visit to cause any trouble for her. If word of this spread, it could put to question her virtue and he did not want her to face any hardships at court.

Eirlys hummed softly as she brought her hand up to tangle in Aemond's long hair.

The prince was cautious with his advances, taking his time to initiate things so that he might not startle her.

He peppered her with kisses across her collar bone as he carefully slid the silky straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, one at a time.

Eirlys could feel her dress about to slip from her frame and instinctively brought her hands to her breasts to hold the dress in place.

"It's alright" Aemond cupped her face as he tenderly gave her assurance "it's just you and me"

She was hesitant at first, suddenly feeling shy to strip bare in front of him but then he bent down to kiss her and she melted into it and dropped her hands to her sides to let her dress fall and pool at her feet.

Aemond did not break away from the kiss instantly, he did not wish to stare and make her anymore nervous but gods knew how terribly difficult it was for him to maintain his calm composure.

Eirlys' hands slid under his shirt and he immediately rid himself of it, wanting to feel her cool skin against his.

In the momentary pause that he took to take his shirt off, he stole a glance at her bare frame and could practically feel his heart begin to race.

He pulled her close once again as he hastily pushed the books off the table.

"Sit" he instructed in a low voice.

He could feel himself harden but was in even more of a rush to taste her.

Eirlys obliged without argument and Aemond wasted no time in kissing her neck once again. His one hand held her at the waist while his other rested on her thigh. His lips traveled from her neck, down her collarbone, chest before he sucked on her left nipple.

"Aemond" the girl breathed out as she bit her lip to prevent a moan from escaping.

"Don't do that" he mumbled as he brought his other hand up to fondle her "I want to hear you moan"

He shifted from her left to her right nipple, sucking, licking and gently nibbling on it; not caring much about the marks he would leave there since that was a sight he knew only he would be seeing.

He brought his hand back on her thigh to part her legs slightly before he slid his hand up from her thigh and dangerously close to her folds.

"May I?" He asked as he looked up at her, not moving his hand any further.

The princess simply nodded but he did not oblige.

"I want you to say it Eirlys" he chuckled as he rubbed slow circles on her skin with the pad of his thumb "I wish to slide my fingers in you, may I?"

'Yes' was all she managed to say and Aemond decided that it was enough.

He slowly brought his hand to her heated core that was already pretty much soaked. He rubbed her folds slightly, letting his fingers get coated with her wetness before he slid a single finger in.

"You're wet" he groaned.

"Oh, sorry" Eirlys could feel her cheeks turning red. She quickly tried to shut her legs out of embarrassment, unaware that it was in-fact, normal.

"Don't be" he chuckled at her innocence, almost tempted to reach up and kiss her to provide assurance. Instead he just kissed her belly "it's what's supposed to happen, it's your body's way of letting me know you're enjoying this"

He pulled away to look at her.

"You are enjoying this though," he asked grimly as he slid another finger in without warning "aren't you?"

Eirlys gasped at the sensation and Aemond grinned.

He began to pump his fingers in an out of her, slowly, so that she might get used to the feeling.

He rested his left hand on her thigh before he dipped his head in between her legs. He licked a long strip from where his fingered pumped, all the way to her clit.

The prince flattened his tongue on the bundle of nerves before he began to gently suck on it, eliciting quiet a loud moan from the princess.

"Faster" she panted and Aemond could feel himself grow painfully harder in his pants.

He brought his other hand to his pants to quickly free himself as he continued to suck Eirlys.

He used his left hand to stroke himself while Eirlys continued to fill the room with the melody of her sweet moans.

She felt a foreign sensation that was hard for her to describe. It was as it the feeling hadn't quiet reached yet but she could sense it making its arrival as her body began to shudder.

The wet sounds of Aemond's fingers slamming into her wet folds while he pumped himself, occasionally humming as he sucked on her clit was driving her insane.

He too, was so close; her moaning his name made it even better than him just imagining her do it.

Eirlys' body began to spasm as she felt sparks go off within her and all of a sudden she couldn't take another stroke of Aemond's tongue against her clit even though all she felt in that moment was nothing less than pure bliss.

Aemond grunted loudly as he felt his hot semen shoot out into his hand, most of it spilling onto the stone floor.

The princess quickly brought her hand to hold his bicep in an attempt to make him stop and Aemond took the hint.

"Did I live up to your expectations?" The boy asked he wiped his hand for his trousers before he pulled them back up once again.

Eirlys looked down at him and smiled.

She was the one with absolutely no experience nor knowledge while Aemond was fairly familiar with what needed to be done and yet her prince was inquiring if he had done well to satisfy her.

Eirlys slid off the table and joined him on the cold stone floor.

She didn't know what to say nor could she even if she wanted to, and it wasn't because she was just breathless from all that moaning and constant panting of his name.

She was going through a dozen different emotions all at the same time.

In response, she simply kissed him and could feel Aemond smile against her lips.

Eirlys was thankful of Aemond for being considerate enough to not leave any visible marks from last night's endeavour because the marks that he did leave in places concealed within the protection of her garments, were bruised in rather bold colours of reds and purples.

She did not call for any of the maids that morning to help her get dressed. She didn't want anyone to see the painting of love bites Aemond left along the skin of her chest and areas slightly below her collarbone.

As she was readying herself she heard a knocking on the door and called out for the person awaiting to enter while she tied the strings at the bodice of her gown.

"Did you sleep well?" Aemond asked with a smug smile as he walked in.

"Wipe that smirk off your face" Eirlys rolled her eyes at him through the reflection in her mirror.

"I see your desire for me has withered away" the boy joked as he wrapped his arms around her from behind before turning the girl to face him "perhaps I ought to reignite that flame"

"Your family is awaiting us in the hall" The princess reminded as she looked up at him fondly, taking into account his height "it's annoying how tall you've grown"

"I shall keep in mind your disapproval of my growth spurt" he chuckled as he twirled the ribbons of her dress around his index finger before tugging at them. He parted the décolletage to further gain access to look at her breasts and broke into another grin when he saw the results of last night's fun "I'm quite the artist, wouldn't you agree?"

Eirlys only chuckled in response as she playfully shoved him away before turning around to face the mirror to once again tie the front of the dress.

Even though she was practically stripped down naked in front of him the night before, she still grew shy beneath his gaze.

"We can't" she reminded him once again "we need to be on time to break our fast with your family"

"I can do it in a few minutes" he placed a chaste kiss on her neck "and you don't even need to be rid of your dress"

"As tempting as it sounds, my prince" Eirlys wiggled out of his grasp and walked toward the doorway "we have to keep in mind to be responsible adults, although, I suppose that's a lot to ask of you"

"That's no way to speak to a prince" Aemond responded in a monotone voice, of course, only jesting "any other woman would have been sentenced to having her tongue cut off"

"I'm not any other woman though, I'm a princess" Eirlys grinned while she took Aemond's arm as he opened the door for her "and your future lady wife"

"Oh yes how could I forget such a curse- um blessing I meant" Aemond joked as he kept his tone serious "slip of tongue, apologies"

Eirlys chuckled at his comment as the both of them walked to the dining hall.

Breakfast went smoothly, with the exception of Aemond and Daeron's occasional exchange of death stares.

The king did not join them again that morning. The queen informed them that he was breaking his fast in his chambers once again.

"Aemond, Eirlys" Alicent called out when the rest of them were almost done eating "I need to have a word with you both after we've finished eating"

The prince and princess exchanged nervous glances. Her tone sounded sharp and serious and her expression was hard to read.

For a moment a similar thought crossed both their minds. Did someone see the princess leaving the prince's chambers during the late hours of the night? Did someone perhaps hear the princess through the walls?

"I wasn't that loud was I?" Eirlys leaned in to whisper into Aemond's ear.

"Shh" was all he said as he held her hand beneath the table before looking around at the others, not wanting them to hear their conversation.

In truth, he couldn't deny that she was rather loud for the most part but that happened only when she was about to climax. Surely no one could tell what was happening within his chambers by simply just hearing her call out his name rather loudly, right?

Daeron cast a sly glance at them and immediately took note of how quickly their body language changed.

Eirlys was suddenly breathing heavily and did not look up to meet anyone's gaze.

And while Aemond usually did always maintain a rigid and upright posture, this time there was a certain unease that radiated through him. His fist was clenched and his shoulders seemed tense.

Daeron had a feeling that the two had probably snuck off either within the castle through the passageways or perhaps out and into the city.

He turned to look at Aegon, thinking that maybe he too had partaken in leaving the castle grounds but the boy seemed to be more engrossed in his cups than whatever was happening at the table.

Once the rest had finished eating, they each took their leave with the exception of Alicent, Aemond and Eirlys.

"In truth" the queen sighed "I really didn't think I would be having this particular conversation this early-"

"I can assure you, mother, she is still chaste"

Alicent's brows furrowed in confusion as she stared at her son with a puzzled look. She quickly cast a glance to see how many cups were by his plate, just to check if he had been drinking.

"I.. I never questioned..." she shifted her gaze from Aemond to the princess "is there a reason for me to be skeptical of her virtue"

"No!" Eirlys responded, rather too quickly before she cleared her throat and lowered her voice "your grace"

"Is there something you both would like to tell me?" She raised a brow as she stared at them both "I always thought you both to be the responsible ones, but if you have indulged in... activities that aren't to be practiced before you are wed, I need to be informed right this instant"

Aemond exhaled slowly when he realised that the conversation his mother meant to have with them did not pertain to their scandalous evening.

"No mother, I would never subject my betrothed to anything that would tarnish her reputation" he sighed as he nervously averted his gaze, now feeling abashed about having to talk to his mother about restraining himself against having sex with Eirlys "I merely mistook your stern tone as you speculating we did something... indecent..."

"I see" the queen did not seem convinced but she brushed it off for the time being "no, I wanted to discuss the matter concerning your marriage"

"What of it" Eirlys asked.

"You both have been betrothed for years now and have grown quiet close, I see no reason to put off the wedding any longer" she smiled warmly at them both "you both will be wed in the sept on the night of the new moon"

"That's almost two weeks from today" Aemond tilted his head in confusion "this seems a bit sudden mother"

"Thought you'd be a bit more excited" Alicent playfully commented "there are things that have risen to the surface all of a sudden that makes it urgent for you both to wed"

"Like what?"

"Would you like to explain yours and your brother's fight at the training yard?" Alicent sharply questioned Aemond.

The boy opened his mouth to say something but then quickly silenced himself.

That question was pretty much self explanatory.

"Has my mother been made aware of this?" Eirlys inquired.

"Not yet, a raven will be sent as soon as I leave this hall" the queen sweetly told her "I expect to see you in my chambers later this evening. I was hoping to help design your wedding dress over some tea and cakes. With your permission, I would like to invite two of my preferred seamstresses as well"

"That is rather generous of you my queen" Eirlys smiled warmly at the queen's invitation "but I do hope we can arrange for this later. I would like my mother to be present alongside me as I go about the wedding preparations"

"Of course" Alicent smiled in response.

"And I would like to deliver the message myself" Eirlys tried to push her luck further "I will carry the news to Dragonstone. I shall leave on the morrow on dragon back and return with my mother within four days, I wish to spend some time with my brothers before I make my journey back. The rest of my family will join us on the day of the ceremony"

"You wish to go by yourself?" Aemond asked, he wore the same expression as his mother which was a mix between uncertainty and reluctance "I do not think that is such a good idea"

"Dragonstone is a short flight from here" the girl reminded "a raven would take half a day to deliver the message whereas I would reach the castle in a few hours time"

"At the very least, allow me to escort you with Vhagar" Aemond requested. He had never spent a single day away from her, let alone four days with her flying beyond King's Landing by herself, unaccompanied by any guards "I will make my return once you are within the safety of the walls at Dragonstone"

"That would not be necessary Aemond" the princess placed her hand on his arm in an act of providing assurance "I will be alright, Ember might be smaller in comparison to Vhagar but he is twice as protective"

With much reluctance, Aemond simply agreed with a soft 'hmm' before turning to face his queen mother and await her answer.

"Alright then" the queen sighed in defeat, knowing well that Eirlys would continue to argue until she got her way. She was Rhaenyra's daughter after all.

"Oh and one more thing" Eirlys proceeded to make yet another request "I do not wish to take our vows in the sept. I wish to honour my ancestors and follow tradition"

"What are you suggesting then, my sweet child?" Alicent asked in a warm tone and tender smile, curiously leaning forward.

"A traditional Valerian ceremony" Eirlys glanced at Aemond to seek his approval on it as well "to show our unity and to seal our love with marriage"

Alicent simply turned to Aemond, to see if he was willing to comply.

"Of course" he gave his princess a gentle smile. He would agree to almost any sort of ceremony if it meant that he would have her as his wife by the end of it "anything you want ñuha prūmia" (my love)

Taglist: @beiigegalx

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #hotd #house of the dragon #tom bennett #world on fire #aemond #aemond smut #aemond x you #aemond headcanons #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #daemon targaryen #daemon smut #aegon targaryen #aegon smut

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wa-i0101 · 1 year

Text

😵‍💫❤️

1.小悪魔な後輩は、彼女の柔らかいお腹に僕の手を無理矢理当てがい、爆音の空腹音と圧倒的な振動と愛おしい感触を僕だけに披露してくれる。

2.お互いのことを思い合っているが、あまり話したことのない2人は、同じ電車で学校に行く。しかし、今日の電車はとても混んでいた。

女の子は昨日の夜と朝ごはんを食べていなかったため、とてもお腹が空いていた。満員の列車が揺れた時に2人のお腹がくっつき、鳴らないように我慢していた女の子のお腹は男の子のお腹の上で大きな唸り声を上げてしまう。

女の子はあまりの恥ずかしさで泣きそうになるが、男の子も好きな子の不本意な恥ずかしい音を聞き、思わずドキドキしてしまう。

3.好きな人の前で素直になれない女の子は、「お腹が空いて、今にも大きな音が鳴ってしまいそう」といった状況でもつい強がってしまう。

「大丈夫？」と聞かれてもお腹を小さく鳴らしながら「何でもない」と答え、こっそりとお腹を押さえている。

しかし、飢餓状態の身体は彼女の気持ちなどつゆ知らず、大音量のお腹の音で周囲に助けを求めてしまった。彼女はビクッと身体を硬直させ、悔しそうに顔を赤らめた。

4.ダイエット中は家にいてもお腹がぐうぐう鳴って何もする気が起きないので、図書館で読書をすることにした。

本を読み進めていると、なんだかお腹の様子がおかしい。今にも、家にいる時とは比べ物にならない程の音が鳴ってしまいそうだ。周りは静かだし沢山の人がいる。

冷や汗をかきながら「お願い…鳴らないで…」と祈るも意味はなく、静かな空間に食べ物を乞うみっともない大きな音だけが響いてしまう。

ああ、周りの人々の視線を痛いほど感じる。私は、「恥ずかしい音の犯人です」とアピールしていることに気付かないまま、必死にお腹を抱え込むことしかできなかった。

5.私のお腹は、沢山の食べ物を喜んで吸収して沢山の食べ物を大きな声でところ構わず懇願する。そんな肉付きの良い大きなお腹が恥ずかしい。

6.自分の空腹音に興味がある女の子は、こっそりと通販で聴診器を買った。わざとご飯を抜いたお腹で試してみると、あまりの音の大きさに驚くと同時に恥ずかしくなってしまった。

7.甘えん坊な友達に膝枕をしていると、急激な空腹感に襲ってきた。友達の耳元で爆音が鳴ってしまいそうで、この場から一刻も早く離れないといけないのに身動きが取れない。

でも、万が一お腹が鳴っ��ゃったとしても…友達は寝てるから聞かれないのでは…？という一縷の望みが頭をよぎったのも束の間。誤魔化しきれないほどの音を轟かせてしまった。

不幸にも友達はお腹が鳴る少し前に起きてしまっており、恥ずかしい音の最初から最後までを全て耳にしてしまった。その後は、2人とも気付かないふりをして過ごした。

1. The little devilish junior forcibly places my hand on her soft belly and shows me the explosive sound of hunger, overwhelming vibration and lovely feeling only I can feel.

2. The two of us, who have feelings for each other but have never talked much, take the same train to school. But today's train was very crowded.

The girl was very hungry because she had not eaten last night and breakfast. When the train shook in the crowded train, their bellies got stuck together, and the girl's stomach, which was trying not to growl, growled loudly on the boy's stomach.

The girl is so embarrassed that she almost cries, but the boy also hears the unwilling and embarrassing sound of the girl he loves and is involuntarily thrilled.

3. A girl who cannot be honest in front of the person she likes will end up being strong even in a situation like "I'm hungry and I'm about to make a loud noise.

"Are you okay?" When asked, she replies, "Nothing," while making a small rumbling sound in her stomach and secretly holding her stomach.

However, her starving body, oblivious to her feelings, called out for help with a loud tummy rumbling. She stiffened and blushed in frustration.

4. When I was on a diet, my stomach grumbled and I didn't feel like doing anything at home, so I decided to go to the library to read a book.

As I was reading a book, something was wrong with my stomach. Even now, it seems to be making a lot more noise than it does when I'm at home. It's quiet around me and there are lots of people.

I pray in a cold sweat, "Please…don't ring…" but there is no point, only the loud, miserable sound of begging for food echoes in the quiet space.

Oh, I painfully feel the stares of the people around me. I could only clutch my stomach desperately, unaware that I was appealing to them that I was the culprit of the embarrassing sound.

5. My belly happily absorbs a lot of food and begs loudly for a lot of food everywhere. I am ashamed of such a big fleshy belly.

6. A girl interested in the sound of her own hunger secretly bought a stethoscope by mail order. When she tried it on her stomach, which had been deliberately skipped, she was surprised and embarrassed at the same time at how loud the sound was.

7. As I was kneeling down to my pampered friend, I was overcome by a sudden feeling of hunger. I felt like I was about to be blasted in my friend's ear, and I couldn't move, even though I needed to get away from this place as soon as possible.

But even if my stomach rumbles… my friend is sleeping, so he won't hear it…? I had a ray of hope that my friend would be asleep and would not hear me. I let out a sound that was too loud to be fooled.

Unfortunately, my friend had woken up shortly before my stomach rumbled, and heard the entire embarrassing sound from beginning to end. After that, we both spent the rest of the day pretending not to notice.

#hunger kink #empty stomach #stomach kink #stomach growling #tummy kink

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euphoricfilter · 1 year

Text

Devil That I Know (Part 9)

~ Oddly Human

Pairing: Demon! Jungkook x Human! Reader

Genre: (Inaccurate) Historical AU || Strangers to lovers AU || Supernatural AU || Smut || Fluff || Angst

Summary: A step back into time— and how Jungkook ended up at the palace. (takes place between the end of chapter 5 and beginning of chapter 6)

Word count: 10k

Tags/ warnings: the tiniest hint of fluff at the end, angst, kinda graphic descriptions of murder, blood, self inflicted injury, mild violence in comparison to other events of this chapter (a slap to the cheek), jungkook feeling human emotions, kidnapping, there's some kinda morally questionable scenes (he bathes with her while she's passed out, descriptions of fantasies-- not sexual- where she's passed out), the rise of king yoongi, i think that is all?

Notes: this whole chapter takes place between the end of chapter 5 and start of chapter 6, all written in jungkook's pov this time. i only proof read this once so if there are mistakes, no there arent.

my full masterlist || devil that i know masterlist

+ + +

(1865- 33 years before you wake in the palace)

Jungkook watches as his home burns, heat of the fire caressing his skin. Wispy flames curling into the claws of a beast as it rips through the structure he’d worked so hard to build. Countless memories he’d made, fizzling into a pile of ashes. And years of hard work crushed within minutes of the villagers’ arrival.

The outside of what was once Taehyung’s room, stained red with the blood of the humans reckless enough to trespass onto his property, hands soaked in ruby red that he wipes down the front of his shirt. The crackling of their fire louder than their cries for help, begging the demon for his mercy as he rips their hearts right from their chests.

And he thinks it’s ironic, begging him for his pitiful charity when they had been the ones to start this fight. Pitiful that they thought for a moment he would spare their sad little lives when they’d been the ones to waltz into his house and destroy it.

If he wasn’t so worried about you, then maybe he would have taken his time killing them. Maybe let the beast they unleashed sear their skin until they were unrecognisable, and he could skin them alive and watch them bathe in their own blood.

And maybe Jungkook would have thought it was amusing. How such low beings could try and kill him with a few nasty flames—though he sees the tail of the beast over the bridge that connects to his bedroom, jaw ticking as he takes one final glance at the scattered corpses at the foot of Taehyung’s grave. Stone charred and soil saturated with blood.

And briefly he wonders if Taehyung’s dead corpse is finally warming up six feet under, rotting away at the expense of Jungkook’s selfish needs. Or if his old friend was laughing in his grave at his misfortune, maybe angry that his only refuge had been painted red.

With one last gentle nod to his former friend, Jungkook takes off towards the corner of the Hanok, only praying that the fire hadn’t been able to reach where you were as he had to make a pitstop before the two of you would make an escape.

His legs take long strides to one of the back rooms, what was once an empty room turned library with all the books, he never wanted you or Taehyung to ever see. The door barely holding onto its hinges as he yanks it open; all four arms shoving piles of paper out of his way until he reaches the chest of drawers in the back corner of the room.

“Pieces of shit” he grumbles, crackling of the flames devouring the surrounding area. Though he had no worries of his prized possessions crumbling to ash; the small room having been enchanted years back when he’s first built the place—impossible for anyone but himself to enter, and no natural force being able to destroy the near perimeter.

Maybe if he had honed his powers sooner the rest of the hanok would have been saved, the thought slipping his mind once Taehyung had entered his life and then evidently, you as well.

He grabs hold of the book he’d been looking for; his saving grace in helping you live for eternity—his gateway to entwining your souls, bonded for as long as the earth turns, and stars twinkle in the sky. And Jungkook will continue to love you until the day both of you can no longer walk, until each of your last breaths shall be taken, he’ll love you in life and death and although it may be selfish the thought of you aging beside him is enough to swallow the guilt of lying.

He shuts the door to the room before he’s taking long strides back towards the bedroom.

His hand flies over his mouth as he inhales thick, black smoke, the wooden bridge creaks under his weight as he pushes through the flames, skin flushing red as he swats at his clothes as they catch alight. Annoyance laced in his features at the trouble of this all.

Jungkook catches sight of you, slouched on the floor and he can’t help but run his eyes over your body, checking for any sign of injury. His tongue darts out to wet his lips when all he’s met with is the top half of your body covered in your flimsy little undergarments. And if the both of you had been in a different setting, where your home weren’t—well not a home anymore, he may have indulged you a little, always ever so pretty without even trying that he can’t help wanting to spoil you a little, until all you knew was his name.

He falls to his knees besides you, all four arms reaching to pull you into his chest. You fall forwards into him, hands grabbing onto whatever was left of his shirt. Your body trembling in what he can only assume to be both fear and adrenaline as it courses through the veins, thrumming underneath your skin.

The dull thud of his book dropping to the floor is nothing but a whisper behind the hissing of the flames. Jungkook can’t help but run his hands over your body, a silent reminder that you were there—that you were okay. His head drops to your shoulder, lungs squeezing a shaky breath through his windpipe as he feels the skin of his chest damped with what he can only assume to be your tears.

He wonders if you’re scared. Curious where he’d been, why he’d taken so long. Wonders if you’d let the boiling questions drip off your tongue, and maybe he’d just kiss them away because for once, even Jungkook didn’t know what to do.

This had never been part of his plans. Never an issue he thought he’d need to deal with. Jungkook was always 2 steps ahead of everyone else and albeit not that many, he always had a head-start. Always knew what was coming because he made his own path, never stuck to the original plotline of the tragedy called life. And for the first time, Jeon Jungkook had walked himself to the edge of a cliff, tips of his toes over the edge, moments from falling into a fate that he had no control over and that scared him.

Jungkook pulls you away from his chest, watching as shiny tears slip down your cheeks like liquid gold as they reflect the yellow of the flames.

Both of your heads turn when you hear the large tree in the courtyard crack, the fire clawing its way up the trunk. And uses that as his cue, Jungkook takes a hold of your wrists, pulling you from the ground. He crouches down, picking up the book he’d bought in the capital before he pulls you towards the gate.

Neither of you say anything. And maybe it’s because neither of you know exactly what to say. What is Jungkook meant to tell you? That everything was going to be, okay? Because he didn’t know if it was, and he hated lying to you.

The both of you turn back towards the hanok once you’d passed the fence, and Jungkook slips his fingers between your own, sending you a reassuring squeeze, but you don’t turn to look at him. Both of you just watching as your home burns, the fire never-ending as it consumes what had become so familiar.

Jungkook licks his lips, all the years he’d spent there suddenly gone to waste and he thinks the sadness of it all is finally starting to sink in at the sight of what was once so precious to him. All the books he’d collected, the rooms he’d constructed himself, the house he’d built from nought, amounting to nothing more than ashes and broken memories.

“What about Taehyung’s stuff? His grave?” you ask, hand coming to cover your mouth as you cough. And Jungkook frowns because he can’t even offer you any water to soothe your throat. The sinking feeling of failure settling in.

Jungkook hums, “I’d assume it’s all burnt”

The sigh you let out is shaky, hand coming to push the stray hairs out of your face; though you don’t cry, and Jungkook wants to reassure you it’s okay to do so.

“Let’s go” Jungkook tugs at your hand, not daring to look at your face.

Maybe he would cry if he looked at you. How could he look at you when he had failed you once again?

Everything was meant to get better, not worse. You were meant to live your secluded life together; in the home he had built. He would have found you another pet, watched as you danced around the courtyard in the spring, and during the winter months, he’d have an excuse to hold you extra close. You were meant to watch the world change together, laugh about the past and make plans for your infinite future spent together.

You were meant to have the perfect love story, written by the best poets. A story told of two beings whose love was magical—nights spent cooking with one another, watching the world develop, watching people you knew grow, having a separate house by the sea for the summer where kisses were sea salty and skin was kissed by the sun, only Jungkook would kiss you twice as much. Neither of you would have to rush with kids, all the time in the world to bask in each other’s company before you decided to try for a baby.

How was Jungkook meant to look at you when he clearly couldn’t give you the world?

“Where?” you ask, little resistance coming from you as he pulls you down a familiar path.

“We can’t live here anymore, my love”

You take one more glance, diverging your gaze to settle on Jungkook’s back as the two of you made your descent from the mountain.

+ + +

Jungkook hadn’t known where to take you. He only really had 2 options, neither he particularly liked—but with nothing but the moon as his light and your limbs slowly giving up on you, Jungkook knew this was the only safe place he could take you. Even if your memories of this village weren’t fond ones, at least it gave the two of you shelter for now.

The village was a ghost town, anything living having been eradicated all that time ago by the disease, that to this day no one had a cure for. Rumours of the land inhabitable, and ever so perfect for yours and Jungkook’s temporary stay.

“Did the people of Namjoon’s village do that?” you motion towards the mountain that loomed over the village you both stood in. And Jungkook can see how tired you are; feet dragging behind you with every step you took, eyes sunken and he only hopes you can hold on for a little longer.

“I think so” he briefly turns his head to look at you, “This village and Namjoon’s are the only two close to the mountain. I know my kind aren’t well liked anymore but I doubt anyone would travel more than a day just to do this”

You nod, feet bringing yourself to a halt when you both reach the centre of the village.

Jungkook turns to you with furrowed brows, opening his mouth to ask you why you’d stopped. You just tug your hand from his own, and Jungkook watches as you take a step towards a large wooden pole stood upright.

“Y/n?” Jungkook asks, coming to stand beside you.

You turn to look over your shoulder, and Jungkook feels his heart skip a beat.

You were ever so pretty in his eyes, skin almost glowing in the light of the moon. A silver halo cast over your head like you were an angel. He wonders if Taehyung’s art would have done you justice in that moment. If he would have been able to capture something so ethereal that Jungkook’s heart squeezes tight in his chest. An overflowing amount of love too much for his cold heart to handle. An overflowing amount of love for you that seemed to grow with every second in the day, because Jungkook just couldn’t seem to ever get enough of you.

His fingers itch by his sides, your skin drawing him on like a moth to a flame; body his temple to worship and soul his love.

“You remember I told you about a friend?” you say, expression turning a little sour.

Jungkook nods. An emotion akin to jealousy plaguing his mind at the mention of the friend you still clearly hold dear to your heart. But Jungkook didn’t feel fickle emotions like jealousy, not a demon as great as he was. And he thinks the only justifiable way to rid of this illness in his heart is having to erase those insignificant memories from your mind. Slowly but surely clawing his way in, until the only man you can think of is himself.

“They killed him here, tied to that” you point to the thick pole, “And they locked me up in there” you use your thumb to point to the structure behind you.

“I’m sorry. This was the only place I could think would be safe for us” no actual remorse in his tone, because what else was he supposed to do?

“It’s okay” you wave him off, “They all look dead by the looks of things anyways. I know a good place we can camp out in”

Jungkook follows behind you, nodding in satisfaction as you open the door to the village chief’s house.

“This should be spacious enough” you nod, cringing as a spider scuttles across the room.

“What are we going to do for food?” Jungkook kneels on the floor, running a hand over his face, “And money?”

Jungkook can feel you watching him as he fiddles with the pockets of his pants, a few coins jingling as they knock against one another. And he knows that they won’t take the both of you very far, but he hadn’t exactly been prepared for this situation either.

You drop yourself in front of him, “We’re really fucked this time” and he can’t help the smile tugging at his lips. Because maybe you were right, maybe the both of you really were fucked. But at least you were together; that, he was the most grateful for.

Jungkook just watches as you fidget, the dusty floor less than ideal; “I’ll see if there’s anything we can eat”

+ + +

For the first time in all his years living, Jungkook finally knows what panic feels like.

He can feel it fizzling uncomfortably under his skin; heart squeezing so uncomfortably in his chest he’s moments away from ripping it out—letting whatever desperate creature that dares lurk the village chew on the muscle until it’s been digested and shat out, so he doesn’t have to feel what he can only describe as impending dread consume his entire being.

What if you starved to death? He knew damn well that there wasn’t anything left in this town. What if you froze, the nights still a little too chilly for what you’re wearing without a proper fire to keep you from catching pneumonia.

He pushes open a door to what he assumes to be an old home. Family name painted on the door, though it was half eaten by mould. The door creaks, off-tune welcome accompanied by a sneeze as a wave of dust caresses his face.

He wanders into the kitchen, prominent frown etched onto his face when he sees there’s nothing for you to eat. His fingers clasp around the handle of a woven basket, the bitter taste of defeat on his tongue as he’s met with the sight of a family of maggots.

He continues his search, hoping that at least one of the baskets had something edible for you to eat until he came up with a better plan.

Although the thought was a fleeting one, he takes a moment to consider sending you to Namjoon’s village. The young man and his mother probably more than happy to house you until Jungkook could figure out where the two of you could go.

However, that would mean leaving you out of his sight for too long. He wouldn’t be able to stay with you; not when the men of that village had probably marched home in victory of slaying a demon.

He knew his fate if he were to dare step foot in that village when they had announced him dead. Burnt at the stake if he’s lucky, and that’s only if they’re feeling particularly generous.

Jungkook was selfish—selfish enough to possibly let you starve if it meant he could stay by your side.

The thought of leaving you alone—with another man—too much for his fragile little heart to take in that moment. The thought of you not being within arms’ reach, a thought he couldn’t stand.

His jaw clenches when all he can find are a few forgotten tea leaves; dried to be preserved. His gaze travels down to the book in his hands, and briefly he wonders if now is really the right time. But when had it ever been the right time to convert you?

It doesn’t take long for him to weigh out the pros, ignoring the consequences if anything were to go wrong. Even if it meant you’d sleep for a while, this time for however long, food wouldn’t be an issue. His blood enough to sustain you until you wake. Your body would finally get the rest it so craved, so if anything, he was doing you a favour.

It’s as he’s walking back through the centre of the village that his eyes flit to look at the chief’s house, no movement from you inside.

Even better if you’d dozed off, that would make his job a little easier.

He stops outside the blacksmiths, tongue peeking out to wet his lips as he pushes open a window at the back of the shop. Silver light of the moon his only source of light as he rummages around for what he needs, smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he drops the piece of flint into his pocket. Muscles in his arms flexing as he picks up a slab of steel.

One of his free hands grab a bucket, ears picking up the sound of the river.

The stream is cold between his toes, numbing them as the water splashes against the bare skin of his ankles. The tight grip he had on the bucket loosens, almost falling off the tips of his fingers as he tilts his head to look up at the moon.

He lets out a shuddering breath, air rattling his lungs as he takes a moment to just breathe.

He felt… oddly human.

Petty feelings consuming his thoughts and selfish desires driving his actions. He could feel ever new wave of water that brushed against his feet, and he could feel his heart hammering inside his chest. Body oversensitive and mind overactive that he couldn’t think straight with the voices that plagued his mind.

He could feel all the ugly, sad little emotions a human would feel when nothing seemed to be going their way, and panic was clouding his vision. Hands a little shaky and air a little hard to breathe, never enough but too much all at once.

He wished everything was nothing but wished he could feel things all at once. Thoughts he’d never had too much, but so intriguing he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

Jungkook was starting to feel human, and he didn’t like it.

Stupid human emotions that he had no interest in feeling.

Because humans felt minor things like guilt and pain and Jungkook had no interest in either of those. He couldn’t be guilty when he knew what he wanted, guilt an invisible wall that prevents you from pursuing your dreams.

And Jungkook wouldn’t be stopped. Not when every passing day is a step closer towards his ideal world. A paradise he’s so close to reaching where you and himself could live in freedom with no worries. A place of love and happiness and your smiles and giggles. And just you you you. Because Jungkook could never get enough of you.

And that’s why he’s doing this—because of you. Because he loves you. Adores you more than any other insignificant morsel ever could, and he can’t wait to show you his paradise.

The grass tickles his legs as he wanders back into the centre of the village. Lips tugging up into a smile when he spots the pole that your friend had died on.

He drops off his supplies a little further away from the chief’s house, wary that you’d be able to hear him shuffling around if he were to work too close.

Your head snaps up to meet his gaze when he pokes his head through the door, “I found some tea, pass me that pot”

He watches as you push yourself off the floor, legs shaky as you stagger to the other side of the room.

“Thank you, doll” he presses a kiss to your cheek, “Get some rest, I’ll be back soon”

He waits until he hears the door slide shut before he gets to work. Frustration tickling his spine as he tries to light a fire, annoyed grunt dripping off his tongue as he slowly starts to lose patience. He freezes when he hears shuffling from the room you were in, lips tucked behind teeth as he waits for you to settle down.

He swallows thickly, nimble fingers chipping the flint against the steel. A laugh bubbles up his throat when the pile of dry wood catches alight, orange flames illuminating his face.

He balances the pot of water over the fire, fingers tapping against his knees as he watches it start to bubble.

He turns away from the flames, digging into the pocket of his trousers to pull out a dagger. He flicks open his book, chewing on his bottom lip as he skims over the few words written on each page before he stops, fingers tracing the intricately designed circle.

He doesn’t hesitate as he slashes his hand open, no wince of pain or cry of agony; he simple dips a finger into the pool of red gathering in his palm before he begins tracing the same design from his book onto the dusty floor. His blood soaks into the ground, almost black from the light of the fire.

One pair of hands fall onto his hips as he stares down at his work, eyes flicking back to the book. Checking he’d drawn it out right.

Humming, he nods. Fingers tracing his jaw as he wanders back to the boiling water, tipping the jar of tea leaves into it before he bends down beside the remaining water in the bucket.

He watches as the water swirls red, deep gash in his palm gone as he throws the evidence into a nearby bush before he pulls the pot off the flames.

+ + +

“Are you not going to have any?” you catch Jungkook’s attention, voice so soft he almost missed it. But Jungkook simply shakes his head, not daring to look up at you. He thinks he would confess if he were to see the look in your eyes; tired from the events of the evening and body a little bruised and battered.

He can see the gentle nod you send him from the corner of his eyes, and he swallows the growing lump in his throat.

He dares look up when he thinks you aren’t looking, only his eyes meet your own and as much as he wants to look away, you draw him in, “Is there something wrong? You’re acting weird” you ask him as he just shakes his head, eyes flitting down back to his book.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” he asks after noticing you’d finished your tea.

You shake your head, “I’m not really tired after what happened”

“Pretty thing… you really should get some rest” he encourages, and he winces when you flinch as he closes his book with a force he hadn’t intended, the thud echoing off of the walls, amplified by the lack of furniture. An apology on the tip of his tongue but you beat him to it.

“I’m really okay”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion when he stands; long legs helping him saunter towards you.

“What are you doing?” you lean back when he crouches at your side and Jungkook feels his fingers itch by his sides. A pang of hurt grating at his heart as he watches your eyes flit over his face, wary of what his next move was. That hurt morphing into annoyance the longer he watches you try and scoot any from him; far from subtle as your eyebrows furrow—you were scared.

You were scared of him.

Scared of Jungkook?

He can feel a laugh crawling up his throat at the mere thought of you fearing him.

Didn’t you trust him?

“Can’t you just listen for once?” his voice drops as octave, hand coming to hold your face.

Seemingly unaware of his own strength, Jungkook’s hand tightens its grip, and he wants to scoff as you wince. Is this what you really thought of him? Some lowlife that was willing to hurt you?

How dense did you have to be?

He pushes your face away, hard enough you fall backwards; head slamming against the hardwood floor. Though he doesn’t seem to take any notice as his mind races. Thoughts on how he was going to get you outside consuming him. He didn’t mind playing your games but not today, not when he needed you to just listen to him for once.

“What is your problem?” you glare at him, trying to push yourself to sit up once again. And when he sees this, Jungkook straddles your waist, first pair of arms coming to hold your own hands above your head.

“Jungkook?” you wriggle, and he only lets out a grunt. Patience slowly waring thin the more you struggle. Was it really that hard just to sit still why he thought for a moment? Was it really that hard just to cooperate when he clearly needs you to calm down?

“I’m sorry” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss between your eyebrows. No real remorse behind his eyes, calculating his next move.

“Jungkook, please” you cry, so pitiful and weak that his resolve crumbles briefly.

The grip he had on your arms loosen, heart pitter patting so loudly he can hear it in his ears. And in a moment of weakness, he second guesses himself. Because maybe this was wrong.

It’s the glint of your pocketknife that pulls him out of his reverie, wisps of guilt brushed away as he takes a hold of his dagger.

“I’m so sorry” he whispers, watching your mouth fall open in pain, his hands shaking as he thrusts the knife in a little deeper.

“Baby, I’m sorry” he bites back a sob, “So sorry, you’re doing so well for me. It’s all okay”

He watches as blood gathers at the corners of your lips and that’s when the tears fall, his chest releasing a stuttering breath as his tears fall into your cheeks; swirling pink as they mix with your blood.

A sob wracks up his spine and he really does try to wait. Hoping, praying, that if you had a moments rest, it would hurt a lot less when he finally brings you outside.

Bile rises up his throat at the pained sob you let out, and suddenly waiting doesn’t seem like any good. He winces when you let out a particularly loud cry, his arms jostling you too much that he can only imagine the searing pain that paralyses your body.

He steps into the circle, fire barely holding on as he lays you in the centre of the circle. He wipes his cheeks with the back of his hand as he flicks through the book, mind unable to comprehend what he was reading so he starts spewing words that seem right, hoping that your suffering would end soon.

“No no, baby. Don’t close your eyes just yet” he taps your cheeks, “It’s almost over just stay awake a little longer”

+ + +

You lay motionless beside Jungkook. His arms slung over your waist as the two of your lay there. His shirt flung loosely over your chest, soaked in your blood but he had nothing else to keep you warm with.

The sun caresses his skin, a gentle kiss that he’d much rather have from you. His thumb skims over the skin of your cheeks, rough from both of your dried tears, blood painting your skin a cracked red. He hadn’t bothered cleaning you up yet, though he thinks you still look pretty even like this.

Red really did suit you.

The gentle rise and fall of your chest is enough for him to close his eyes, head tucked into your neck as he lets his lips skim over your bare skin. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulls you further into his chest.

It must be gone mid-day when he finally decides to get up, muscles aching in protest as he lets you rest, picking up the empty bucket and wandering back towards the river.

He crouches down beside you minutes later. Hand cupping to gather some water, he doesn’t mind his hands staining red as he washes your face. Thumb running gently over your cheek as a lovesick smile takes over his features.

He kisses your cheeks when he deems them clean enough, the sun drying your damp skin before he’s peeling back his shirt from your chest, throwing it somewhere behind him before he picks you up.

He finds an old, tattered bed, enough to keep you cushioned and comfortable for a few days.

He takes one final look at you before he’s sliding the door closed to the bedroom.

He takes one final look at where you rest before he’s making his way back up the mountain.

It takes him until nightfall to reach the hanok, or what was once the hanok. He wanders through the grounds, standing before the centre room where you, Taehyung, and himself would spend most of the day.

It didn’t resemble a building anymore. Charred wooden frame mocking him as he stands there.

One of his hands brushes against his cheeks, confused grunt the only sound in the courtyard as he wipes away a stray tear.

His feet fall into the river, bridge having been swept away after the structure had broken. Though wet feet wouldn’t stop him as he wanders towards the back of his land; the only building left standing his only sanctuary.

He pulls the door open, eyes adjusting to the darkness before he’s rummaging around for clothes. He couldn’t show up to Namjoon’s village half naked, nor did he think he could show his face. His clothes would be too big for you, but it would have to do as all your belonging were now gone.

His eyes catch sight of a candle, forgotten on the floor from the last time he’d couped himself up in this room to study without Taehyung disturbing him.

He’s unsure how long he spends back at the hanok, the sun shining bright in the sky when he finally decides it’s best for him to get going. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to leave you alone without it becoming an issue. And the last thing he needed was you dying amongst all this chaos.

He runs a thumb over his bottom lip, humming in satisfaction when he finds the specific spell he was looking for.

“Illusion huh?” he smiles, the perfect way for him to make it through Namjoon’s village without them figuring out it was him.

+ + +

Was kidnapping Namjoon the most conventional way to get him to listen? Maybe. Jungkook felt his options had become quite limited and if he wanted to get his way then a little force on his part seemed justified. He didn’t like it when he wasn’t in control of his own life, and the last few days had tipped him over the edge.

Jungkook wasn’t all that bothered with what it would mean for the village boy, not when he didn’t know how long the illusion spell would last and he really needed to get back to you. It had been a simple job, his body part of the shadows and footsteps carried by the wind; no one knew he was there.

Especially not poor Namjoon who had been cleaning the stables. Horses restless as Jungkook lurked in the dark corners, finger twitching by his sides.

It had been a quick job. In and out with no issue. Namjoon’s muscles more for show, his strength no match for the demon as he knocks the village boy out with a brass horseshoe.

Jungkook’s foot taps impatiently against the floor, his fingers running through your hair as he watches Namjoon; body tied with rope so he wouldn’t try to run the moment he wakes up.

It must have been hours before Namjoon had gained consciousness, afternoon sunlight spilling into the room through the open door like the floor had been painted with gold.

“Make a noise, and I slit your throat. Got it?” Jungkook whispers, wary of your resting state.

Namjoon nods. Eyes flitting to you, shallow rise and fall of your chest enough for him to know you were still breathing—still alive.

Namjoon wonders if you knew what Jungkook was doing, what he had done. Wondered if you knew your friend had kidnapped a man. Had threatened to kill him. He doubts you’d be sleeping so comfortably if you knew. Though you make no move to wake up when Jungkook stands, footsteps heavy as he wanders towards where Namjoon is sat.

“You’re going to do something for me” he crouches.

Namjoon scoffs, “Over my dead body”

Jungkook smiles, “Come on, Namjoon” he pouts, “You don’t want her to die, do you?” he motions towards you.

Namjoon looks behind Jungkook where you lay, “Die?” he whispers, you didn’t look ill.

“Yes. We need to get to the capital otherwise my sweet little darling might die. I would carry her, but your carriage is faster”

“She doesn’t look sick” Namjoon meets the demon’s eyes, swallowing thickly when he sees them darken; narrowed, challenging the villager to argue with him.

Jungkook stands at full height and Namjoon feels his lungs constrict in his chest as the demon looms over him. He watches Jungkook slink towards where you lay, hands fisting the front of the shirt you were wearing, tugging you until you sat up.

You fall lax in his hold, head tipping forward so Jungkook tugs you up by your hair. Namjoon’s eyes dart between the two of you, evident confusion written on his face.

Namjoon winces when your face flies to the right, harsh slap echoing off the walls of the empty room.

Jungkook lets go of you, and Namjoon watches as you flop back onto the floor with a dull thud. Though you make no move to wake up.

“What?” Namjoon laughs, “What have you done to her?”

Jungkook’s eyes stay glued to your face, cheeks flaring red from his hands. A sign to Jungkook you were alive, that there was still blood coursing through your veins. He looks down at his hand, a trickle of guilt plaguing his mind.

“What had to be done. Bring your horse and carriage here by sunrise” Jungkook pulls the rope from around the human’s hands, “Don’t show up and I kill your family, okay?” and he watches as Namjoon runs, scrambling towards the gates of the village without daring to look back at Jungkook once.

“My baby” Jungkook whispers when he falls beside you, lips brushing against your red cheek, “My poor baby”

+ + +

Jungkook stares down at Namjoon’s dead body, mouth open in the harrowing pain he’d experienced before death. He had meant to make it easy for the village boy, a quick kill. Nothing too messy that he would have to stray away from your side for too long. It was a shame Namjoon had to put up such a fight, almost catching the attention of a few passers-by with his annoying shrill voice.

He’d considered gutting the human and feeding his insides to the strays that hung around the area; a deserved punishment for all the shit he’d tried to tell you during your little trip. But his patience had worn so thin he ended his life without much joy on his part, a shame but he supposes will be other opportunities to have his fun in the future.

The woman at the front desk of the inn had gone to bed by the time Jungkook had finished cleaning up Namjoon, so it wasn’t all that hard for him to lurk back upstairs with bloodstained clothes and red-painted hands.

You lay peaceful on the bed as Jungkook runs a bath, pretty scented soap softening his skin, and after he’d bathed himself, he takes the time to strip you of your clothes and let you soak in the water as well. He pulls you closer between his thighs, head falling onto your shoulder, and he wonders if you’d be giggling right now; his wet hair tickling your bare skin, the silence deafening.

His arms tighten around your stomach, his eyes squeezing shut. Deft fingers skim over the skin of your chest, heart beating languidly behind the rough skin, body working overtime to heal the wound he’s inflicted on you.

“I killed one of your friends again” Jungkook admits, “Are you mad?”

“You’d never be mad at me, would you?”

“Answer me” he begs, tears wetting his cheeks when he feels your head fall onto his shoulder, “Y/n, answer me, please”

The image of you scared, wanting to get away from him burns behind his eyelids every time he closes his eyes. He can hear you begging him to stop, his hands coving his ears as he sits in the corner of the room. You covered in your own blood, chest stuttering as you gasp for breath. Even as Jungkook watches you from the other side of the room—alive, okay, breathing, safe. He can still see it all. Hear it all.

And maybe the first twinge of regret he’s ever felt burns, because even just looking at you haunts his mind. Too loud, though the room held no sound.

+ + +

(1868- 30 years before you wake)

Jungkook wonders how he got here. All four of his arms itching to throttle the baby that won’t stop crying.

A bastard child from the late queen—killed by her husband for birthing a boy with a servant that worked on the grounds.

A useless kid in the king’s eyes. A perfect project for Jungkook.

Not much else was happening with you asleep and Jungkook had no idea when you’d wake up. He’d moved from inn to inn in the capital for three years and pickpocketing was only getting the two of you so far.

Jungkook’s first order of business before you woke up was to annul the shitty rules about the demons that roamed the lands. If he had complete freedom then the two of you travelling shouldn’t be an issue, and maybe just maybe humans would be stupid enough to spare their extra change in hopes that said demons will bless the lands they grow crops on.

For now, however, he planned to weave his way into baby Min Yoongi’s life.

It hadn’t been hard to sneak into the baby’s bedroom, a little shed in the far corner of the palace where the king didn’t have to see the child of his lover who had no interest in the thrown; too consumed with a serving boy that she committed adultery with the hopes of not getting caught. What she failed to understand was that the king had eyes and ears in all corners of the palace, and one meagre whisper from a lady in waiting about the queen’s untimely pregnancy while the king had been away was all it took for the woman’s downfall.

Unfortunate for her she’d slept with a young foreign boy, shipped overseas per the king’s request, the product of their affair a precious little boy with hair that looked like thread made of gold, features that of his mother but there was no doubt it hadn’t been the son of the king.

It’s a mystery as to why the king had decided to keep the boy alive, but alas Jungkook couldn’t give a flying fuck. Not when he had the light of his future wailing in its cruddy little crib. The room damp with mould and air too musty for such a small child. None of the serving staff had been in to check on him all day either and Jungkook wonders if the tiny human was hungry.

“Don’t cry now” Jungkook whispers, “One day, you’ll be king. And a king shouldn’t cry”

+ + +

(1875- 23 years before you wake)

“Why can’t I tell anyone about you” Yoongi asks, kicking his feet in thee dirt. And he must have asked Jungkook this question every time he came to visit.

“Because I said so” Jungkook mutters, eyes narrowing at the kid, “You want your father to accept you right?”

“Yeah” Yoongi nods, grin toothy. And he’d proudly shown Jungkook his lost tooth the morning after, though the demon hadn’t been able to school his expression—utter confusion written on his face as to why the tiny being had wanted to show him something so gross.

“Then you don’t say anything, to anyone. Got it?”

Yoongi nods, “Why do you have four arms? No one else in the palace has as many arms as you”

“Because I’m a demon”

“Demon?” Yoongi tilts his head and Jungkook sighs, fingers pinching between his eyebrows.

“Yes. That’s why no one must know of my existence. You don’t want me to disappear right?”

The boy shakes his head, “Why do you always come and visit me then if you could get in trouble?”

“Why do you always have so many questions?”

“Because you always keep secrets and never tell me anything fun”

Jungkook tips his head back against the trunk of the tree, “Because someone I love isn’t very well. And I want them to be happy when they wake up. And you might be able to help me when you grow up, okay?”

“Your friend?” Yoongi sits in front of Jungkook, legs crossed and eyes eager. It wasn’t often Jungkook spoke about himself, and Yoongi didn’t really have any other friends so it was always exciting when Jungkook would come to play.

Jungkook looks down at the boy, head tilting because he wasn’t all that sure what the two of you were. You’d never explicitly told Jungkook how you felt. He’s made it clear how he felt about you. But he supposes he had never thought to ask either; the two of you existing in one another’s lives without a second thought as to what you actually were.

“No…” he shakes his head, “More than friends”

“Your wife?”

Jungkook smiles at that, “Not yet, but she might be when she gets better”

“Can I meet her?” Yoongi rocks back and forth, toothy little grin tugging Jungkook’s lips to reciprocate the young boy’s joy. And maybe it was because he had an excuse to show you off.

“One day. When you’re the king, I’ll let you meet her”

“When I’m the king? I thought brother will take the throne?”

Jungkook only shakes his head, “Nothing for you to worry about right now, kid. Just grow up fast, okay?”

Yoongi hums, “Do you have any more candy from the marketplace?”

+ + +

(1883- 15 years before you wake)

“When can I finally become king?” Yoongi looks up at Jungkook, the demon sat on a chair in the corner of the boy’s room.

Jungkook looks up from his book, “When you’re an adult”

“Why not now?”

Jungkook looks at the 15-year-old, a scrawny little kid. Nothing like his brother, a few years older and years away from taking the throne. A shit bag as well, even if Jungkook hadn’t met him personally. His ego so big that his head looked moments from exploding just because he was meant to rule over the country. Nothing like his little brother who cried when he would step on insects and cling onto Jungkook when he thought monsters lurked in the shadows of his room.

The irony being that he should really only be afraid of Jungkook.

“You’re not ready yet”

“I train with my sword every day” Yoongi complains, flopping onto his bed, facing the ceiling.

“You’re built like a stick. We still have a lot of work to do before you can take the throne and be king.”

“What if I fail?”

Jungkook meets to young boy’s eyes. He blinks, lips downturned in a frown.

“Failure isn’t an option, kid. You fail, you die. And it won’t be by my hands”

“Who then?” he tilts his head to look over at Jungkook.

“Your brother”

Jungkook watches Yoongi’s face morph into confusion. “Why would my brother want to kill me?”

And Jungkook wants to laugh at how naïve the child was. And he thinks maybe he’s been too soft on his over the last 15 years. That the next 3 years of his training were going to be absolute torture, so the kid toughened up a bit. He couldn’t have him second guessing himself not what he’d been drilling this dream into his head since he could talk.

Jungkook’s eyebrows crease in worry. If Yoongi was unwilling to kill his father and brother, there’s no way he’s rising to power. And if Yoongi isn’t king then Jungkook can kiss goodbye to ever having the freedom he wanted so badly. And he wasn’t about to let some gangly little kid ruins his way to paradise.

“Because no one likes a bastard child” Jungkook hums, “But don’t worry, you’ll take the throne, and my darling will get better”

“Will you leave after that?” Yoongi pushes himself to sit up, watching Jungkook’s stoic expression as his legs swing back and forth.

Jungkook turns his attention back to his book. “You won’t need me once you rise to power” he shrugs.

“But you promised I could meet your friend” he whines and Jungkook’s lips quirk at that.

“If she gets better”

“She’s still sick? It must be really bad if she’s been sick this whole time”

“She’s stable, so I have hope she’ll wake up soon” Jungkook smiles, “And then I’m sure she’d be overjoyed to meet you”

“When I become king, I’ll get the best doctor in the country to help her, okay?”

Jungkook hums, “It’s not something a doctor can fix. I like your ambition though”

+ + +

(1886- 12 years before you wake)

Yoongi stares down the stairs, the courtyard a bloodbath. It’s odd how he feels no remorse, his father’s eyes still open staring up at him though there’s no life behind them. His brother wasn’t fairing any better. And Yoongi can still see it, the brief moment of approval from his father’s eyes as he watched his first son die at the hands of a bastard child.

And Yoongi thought he’d feel overjoyed at the fact his father had finally recognised him, though the brief approval in his eyes made Yoongi feel sick. And so he killed him soon after his son with no remorse.

“Good job” Jungkook claps from behind where Yoongi is stood, sat on the golden throne.

And Yoongi feels a shiver run down his spine at the image. As he’d grown older Yoongi had become acutely more aware of Jungkook’s aura, a thick black smog that plagued the air around him until you choke on it and succumb to his power.

As a child he’d been fascinated with the fact a demon had chosen him, that he wasn’t alone in that shitty little cabin where he’d be lucky to get a meal a day with nothing but what lurked outside his window as entertainment. Resenting the birds that flew so freely when he was the one caged in a room, verging on insanity. Watching Jungkook now, Yoongi understands why tales are told of demons, why the world shunned them. They were cunning, there for their own personal gain. Why you shouldn’t involve yourself with such foul beings, because once you’re entwined with their lives there is no escape.

Yoongi’s fate set in stone the moment Jungkook had snuck into his bedroom 18 years ago.

“What are you going to do now?” he dares ask.

Jungkook hums, running a thumb over his bottom lip in thought, legs spreading as he makes himself comfortable in the king’s chair. “I’m not sure. I have one last favour to ask of you and then I’ll be out of your hair”

“And what is it?”

“Nothing you need to worry about for now. My darling hasn’t woken up yet, and I suppose you’ll be busy now that you’re king”

“Why don’t you move into the palace? I’ll spare a room for you and the lady” Yoongi offers, wiping his cheek of blood, eye squeezed shut from where his half-brother had slashed him, a gnarly scar sure to be his prize, a reminder of the events that had taken place on this day, one that will be written in history books for years to come.

Jungkook’s lips quirk into a smile, “Is that really okay?” and Yoongi knows that Jungkook isn’t actually concerned, faux worry easy to miss if he hadn’t known the demon for so long.

“I know you’ve been hopping from inn to inn with the money you’ve stolen. Stay here for a while until your friend wakes up and then we can sort out that favour you need”

“You’ve been following me?” Jungkook laughs, a hearty one that shakes his shoulders. And he thinks he must be getting old, suddenly becoming unaware of the boy—no, man—that had been lurking in the shadows, blending in with the darkness.

Jungkook feels a sense of pride, his hard work stood before him. A brutal king that didn’t think twice before he murdered his family, a man hungry for power that nothing could have gotten in his way. Years of training shaping him into something so perfect that Jungkook hadn’t even noticed him when he’d been sneaking around behind his back.

“You have too many secrets, Jungkook. And I hate it”

“Shame” the demon drawls, “You don’t need to know about me, all you needed to do was rise to power. And you did it”

“That’s it? So what?” Yoongi scoffs, “So I could fulfil your little wish? I’m not stupid, Jungkook, I know you want me to set you free. I know what your kind are like, I know how those people beyond this gate see you. You can’t hide everything from me”

“And how do they see me?”

“A monster”

Jungkook leans forwards, elbows resting on his knees as he tilts his head at the human, “But you let this monster raise you, control you so you could help him. You knew and still kept me around, you knew and yet you still killed your father. For what, Yoongi? Because I told you to?”

The boy’s mouth falls open, only to close. Because he was right. Today had been acted out on his own accord, though he knows Jungkook is partially to blame. Feeding him a fantasy all those years that his mind was power hungry, and the sad part was, he hadn’t felt an ounce of regret either.

“You could have told someone. Could have told that little friend of yours—what’s his name? Seokjin? He had the favour of the staff, he could have said something; I could have been dead years ago, but you kept me around.”

“No one would have believed me” he scoffs and Jungkook laughs.

“Bullshit, Yoongi. Just admit it, if I’m a monster what does that make you?”

“You piece of shit. I’m not a monster”

“Neither am I” Jungkook shrugs, “I’m a demon. People are scared of monsters Yoongi. Look at the palace staff, they’re terrified of you.”

Yoongi turns towards where his father’s serving staff all stand, hands all shaking by their sides, eyes wide with worry as they all look up at him—perhaps waiting for a similar fate to their master. All seemingly ready to die by his side by the bloodthirsty king that now ruled the land.

“People aren’t scared of my kind anymore, kid. They despise my people—don’t look at me like that, use this power to your advantage.” Jungkook waves him off, “I didn’t raise you to be soft, this is your time. Your victory.”

Yoongi watches as Jungkook pushes himself to stand. Rolling his shoulders as he saunters towards the young boy.

“My offer still stands, about you staying in the palace” he look up at Jungkook, only a few inches taller than him but Jungkook seemed to loom over everybody.

“I’ll pack my stuff up then. Make sure the room faces the east, my Y/n likes it when the sun rises outside the window of a morning”

+ + +

(1898)

Jungkook spent most part of the last decade hauled up in the bedroom on the far side of the palace. The less rumours that spread about him around the palace the better, and slowly the news of the new king housing a demonic entity had dwindled to overexaggerated fables that no one really believed. His body could go months without food, and it wasn’t all that difficult to wanders the halls at night when all the serving staff had wandered off to bed. Luckily no one seemed to notice the little bits of food that would go missing either so it was an easy life he was living.

With each passing day the sliver of hope Jungkook had of you waking up was fizzling to embers. And it was getting hard to convince himself that you were going to finally wake up one day. You never moved in your sleep, face never changing from the relaxed expression you held. The wound on your chest had healed over a decade ago with the help of Jungkook’s blood but you’d made no sign of any other recovery.

He’d visited the library, begging one of the elder demons to help him. Begging them to explain why it has taken so long for you to wake up because you’d never been out for this long and he just needed to know you were okay.

They’d simply shrugged, unable to answer any of his questions before he had to leave—the worry of leaving you alone in the palace too much for him that he couldn’t go out to buy you gifts anymore without the thought of the king slipping into your chambers plagues his mind. He doubts Yoongi would be stupid enough to harm you, not when he knows how much Jungkook adores you. How his head would be balanced on a stick for the whole capital to see if he were to even lay a finger on you.

But Jungkook was slowly slipping into insanity, tugging at his hair as he paced back and forth around the room. He couldn’t enjoy reading, eyes flitting up to check if you were still breathing ruining the plot of his favourite stories. He hated going into the bath house because he couldn’t bring you with him that he just began to rit in the bedroom in hopes that you would wake up and he could get some normalcy back into his life. Jungkook was slowly starting to give up but he continued to hold on, praying that soon he would be able to look into your eyes again, hear your laugh, listen to you speak and dance and just anything. He would take anything.

Jungkook curls his body tighter around yours, tangling his legs with your, relishing in the fact that he could still feel the heat of your body warm his skin. And even if it was only for a moment, Jungkook could pretend that you were really here with him; that you were just sleeping and that as the sun rose you would slowly start to wake up too.

The this would all feel like a bad dream, and everything could just go back to the way it was.

He’d thought about what it would mean for him if you were to stay like this forever, stuck in an eternal slumber. He supposes he wouldn’t mind it; some days would be harder than others, but his imagination would surely keep him entertained. He would have to get used to the fact you couldn’t answer him anymore, though he supposes he could still kiss you, your lips still warm, though pale. He could still read to you and tell you stories of his adventures. Could still brush your hair and make you look all pretty as he hums you a song, watching your serene face through the mirror, careful not to pull on your hair too hard.

Jungkook shoots to sit up in bed when he feels you shuffle around, ripped from his own little fantasy world as your hands tug the sheets further over your ears, and Jungkook feels his heart in his throat. Wondering if this was a sick dream, one where he would soon wake up and see you still in the same position, he had put you in years ago.

His fingers find their way to the top of your head, dreading the headache you’re sure to have after such a long nap. He bites his bottom lip, smile hard to contain as you lean a little into his touch.

He watches as you peek out from behind the blankets, eyes a little bleary from sleep, your eyes meet his own, but it seems you’re unaware of who you’re looking at. And Jungkook’s heart momentarily sinks at the thought of the memory loss this time round, how you could have completely forgotten about his existence.

He swallows thickly, watching as your eyes squeeze shut. You let out a strained groan, and he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his throat—you were awake.

He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek through the sheets before he’s pushing himself up off the bed. A skip in his step as he rummages around for a cup, he can’t imagine how parched you must be after such a great nap.

“The window is shut, pretty thing. Your eyes shouldn’t hurt as much now” Jungkook whispers, aware that you must feel groggy as you just shuffle under the blanket, pulling it further over your head. This time, you curl your body around his, hoping that somehow, he’ll heal your pain.

“My head hurts” you tell him, voice hoarse and scratchy from where you clearly hadn’t been using it.

“I can’t help you if you hide from me, love”

And Jungkook feels his heart swell, all his love for you overflowing as he watches you, heart so full he thinks he might explode.

And phase two of his plan was complete, though it had taken three decades that was the least of his immortal worries—you were breathing, alive, ever so pretty and perfect and now he could work towards phase 3; his own freedom and bringing you one step closer to immortality.

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