#or at least a canopy bed with a desk underneath

[love-and-monsters]

The Warlord and His Lady Pt. 1

M dragonkin X F human, first person, 10689 words.

It’s the fifth birthday on this blog about a week before my birthday, so I decided to be brave and post this story. It’s in first person and present tense, which I think is slightly unusual, but I hope people enjoy regardless! It will be multi-part, with amnesia, mutual pining, caretaking... just stuff I’ve been interested in lately. I can’t promise a consistent uploading schedule, but I’m working on it in my spare time and I’ve been enjoying writing it. 

There’s someone knocking at my door. It takes me ten solid, sleep-addled minutes to realize that’s wrong.

The knocking is coming from my bedroom door. First, I don’t sleep with my bedroom door closed. Second, I live alone.

I open my eyes and everything goes sideways very fast.

I’m not in your room. I’m not in your bed. It’s four-poster, covered with a canopy of green and gold blankets. The bed is pillowy beneath me, much softer than my old spring mattress. There are tons of blankets on top of me, enough that it’s an effort to push myself upright. Pillows are stacked around me in a sort of haphazard throne, letting me sit up without any of the effort usually involved.

The knocking comes again, a little louder this time. “Ma’am? Your husband has arrived home. You requested to be told when he was here.”

Add that to the pile of weirdness: I don’t have a husband. Or even a boyfriend.

My first instinct is to stand, but even that goes wrong. As soon as my feet hit the floor, the world slants sideways. I stagger, hit the bed awkwardly, and end up on the floor with a bang.

There is silence for a moment. Then the woman on the other side of the door says, “Er. My lady? Are you all right?”

“Yes!” I yelp. It can’t possibly sound convincing, but the woman doesn’t call again. I’m alone for at least a little bit. It takes a moment of scrambling to get me back on my feet. This time, I’m prepared for the dizziness, so I don’t fall. I just flop over the bed until my knees stop trembling.

Once I orient myself, I take time to look around the room. It’s… a room. Nothing terribly remarkable. There’s a wardrobe, a desk covered in papers and books, a bookshelf that looks wildly disorganized, and a fireplace crackling away in a corner. There are no windows, and the only other partially-ajar door I see leads to a bathroom. There doesn’t seem to be any way to escape. Not that I’m sure I could run if there was a way out. My knees still feel shaky.

Footsteps thud in the hallway outside, growing louder and closer with each step. Before I can come up with a new plan of action, the footsteps are right outside my door. The doorknob twists to one side and the door swings open.

The man who enters has a stormy expression on his face. He’s bulky, with broad shoulders that are only enhanced by the armor he’s wearing. It looks a bit like a roman gladiator, with a chest plate strapped to him with leather and meatal covering his shoulders and arms down to a pair of gauntlets. He’s wearing some sort of cloak around his left shoulder, and cloth wrapped asymmetrically around his waist. Underneath that skirt is more armor, covering his legs and feet. Every step is heavy and loud, metal against stone.

His face is uncovered and he’s frowning, shaking long locks of black hair behind his shoulders. The glower he wears only adds to his intimidating appearance. Just looking at him strikes me with a sudden, piercing anxiety.

This anxiety is only increased when his stern gaze falls firmly on me.

I freeze. It’s always been my reaction to scary situations. It has never felt more fundamentally inadequate than it does right now. He’s staring right at me. He can see me. And it feels like, if I move, the tension in the room will snap and he’ll lunge for me.

It’s him who breaks the tension by turning to push the door shut behind him. He exhales slowly as he does, his shoulders slumping a little. It’s a tiny change in his posture, but it helps. He looks more tired, less intimidating.

Motion catches my eye and my gaze lowers. A shock rolls through me. There’s a green, scaly tail, poking out from his lower back and swaying gently. A real, actual tail. Attached to a human.

My brain feels like a pair of disconnected gears- it’s going very fast, but it’s not making anything happen. I can’t process this. Too much is happening too fast and it doesn’t make any sense,

The man turns back toward me. His frown deepens. “Are you feeling well? Your maid said you didn’t answer the door when she came to fetch you.” He takes several strides toward me. “Did something happen?”

Suddenly, casually, he is right in my personal space. One of his hands is half-raised to touch my face and I’m flinching away before my mind can even comprehend it.

He stares at me, hand still up. “What is it?” His voice is startled, almost irritated.

I open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Speaking under pressure has never been a skill of mine, and fear seems to act as a paralytic for my vocal cords. He continues to stare, looking me up and down as he waits for a response.

“Is everything all right?” he says, his voice a little more cautious. “You’re acting strange. Did you have a nightmare? Did something happen while I was away?”

I swallow, trying to wet my increasingly dry mouth. The initial shock seems to be wearing off. Now a deep, yawning terror fills my chest and stomach. This world is unfamiliar, I have no way to navigate it, and I’m trapped with a strange man people think is your husband. The panic escalates, drawing my muscles stiff and taut.

When he makes to move toward me again, the tension releases. I skitter away from him so quickly that my back slams into one of the heavy bookshelves against the wall. All the books rattle. Several of them topple over. The entire bookcase tilts back, just a little, and then starts to tilt forward. I feel the exact moment it overbalances and starts to fall.

There is one second in which I am absolutely certain I’m going to be crushed, and then hands slam into the shelf on either side of me. With one heave, the man sends it slamming back into place. We both stand still for a moment, me unable to move in the cage of his outstretched arms.

Then, he looks down. “What is the matter with you?”

It’s at times like this that I wish I was more prone to fainting or breaking into tears under stress. It would spare me from the discomfort of having to figure out what to say. But I have no such luck. After a few moments, I hesitantly say, “I don’t know who you are.”

There’s silence. He blinks a few times, rather owlishly. “I’m sorry?”

I swallow hard. There’s no saliva in my mouth, so it’s more of a throat convulsion really. “I don’t, uh. I don’t know who you are.”

There’s another long silence while he searches my face, first with bewilderment, then increasing desperation as he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. His arms slide off the dresser and fall back to his sides. A breath shudders through his chest. Then another.

He spins on his heels, his tail coming within an inch of my leg, and storms to the door. It bangs open and he bellows down the corridor, “Fetch me the physician! Now!”

The physician is an older man with dark skin and hair done into hundreds of tiny braids woven together in one large braid down his back. He takes the memory loss without even a blink, like he sees hundreds of amnesiacs a day. His steady, professional presence is reassuring, even as my apparent husband paces the room.

“No sign of head injuries,” the physician says as he probes at my head. His fingers slide down the back of my neck. “Lymph nodes are slightly swollen. Might be fighting some kind of infection, but I’m not sure if that’s related or not.” He tests my joints, prods at my back and stomach and makes a lot of thoughtful humming noises.

“And you say you don’t remember anything,” he says eventually, sitting back and eyeing me contemplatively.

“It’s hard to explain. I don’t remember any of you, I don’t remember this castle, I don’t remember this place at all, but I can remember my childhood. I remember growing up with my parents, going to school, graduating college. I remember going to sleep last night! It’s not like I have a blank spot in my mind, it’s like I lived my life there and today I just woke up here.” Your voice catches a little. The tailed man stops pacing and stares at you.

“Hm,” the physician says. His voice is calm, but you can see the concern in his eyes. “Physically, I can’t find anything wrong with you. At least, not anything that would account for the memory loss you’re describing.” He stands and looks toward the tailed man. “My thoughts are that this is the result of some kind of curse or other magical ailment.”

The tailed man takes a deep breath. “Get the thaumatist.”

The thaumatist is not the same reassuring presence as the physician. He’s young, with blond hair drifting in a sort of cloud around his head and eyes that perpetually seem to be looking at everything and nothing. It’s not comforting that he also always seems to be looking at a point about an inch above my head.

“Hm.” He looks properly at me for a moment, then his gaze drifts away once more. “Hmm.”

My husband glares. “Well?”

“Well…” The thaumatist tilts his head back and breathes in slowly. “Hm.”

There’s a distinct thump as my husband’s tail smacks into the bed. His arms are already folded over his chest and the corner of his mouth is crawling up into a snarl. “Is she cursed or not?”

“Oh, yes, certainly. I could sense that the instant I stepped into the room. Someone did this intentionally, there’s no doubt.” His voice is breezy, like he’s discussing party decorations. There’s another thump as my husband’s tail swings into the bed.

“Can you fix it?” he says, his voice tinged with a threat.

“Oh,” says the thaumatist, as if he wasn’t expecting that question. “Well, that depends.”

We wait for an answer but the thuamatist just sort of hums to himself. “Depends on what?” my husband sighs.

“On whether it was her mind or her soul that was affected.” The thaumatist fixes me with his gaze for the first time. My back prickles. “Her mind will be easier to fix. Her soul… more difficult.”

My husband draws himself up stiff. I hear his breath catch. “Her soul?”

“Mm. Presumably, the curse was used to replace her memories. If it was used merely to affect her mind, then it may merely take a few sessions to manually remove the obscuring memories. But if they used more complex magic on her soul, then it will be far more difficult to alter.”

“Explain,” my husband states. The thaumatist shrugs, breaking his gaze on me and looking at some point on the hall.

“Memories are complicated. Our minds discard ones they see as unimportant or useless to our daily lives. By implanting new memories into the mind, the old ones are effectively covered up. But it can be reversed fairly easily, even if it does take some time. But memories can also be affected by toying with the soul itself.

“Personally, given the strength of the curse, I think it is more likely that it affects her soul. If her soul was translated across realities, then she will have a set of overlapping memories. The more recent ones will cover up the older ones, and she remembers a different life than the one she lived here.”

“I’m sorry. A different… reality?” my husband says.

“It’s a complicated bit of thaumatic theory. There are alternate realities bordering our own. Given what you remember, and the power of the curse, I suspect whoever cast it was attempting to banish her soul to an alternate reality. Though it did fail, and her soul returned after living out the duration of her life in an alternate world. Hence the memory loss.”

There’s a long pause. My husband, previously fiddling with the straps of his armor, has gone deathly still. Even his tail is no longer moving. “Someone tried to kill her?” His voice is cold, dangerous. I find myself going still as a trapped mouse.

“Oh.” The thaumatist cocks his head to one side. “Well, she would not have died. Her body would have been functional, but her soul would not have been in it. She would have lingered for a while. I expect a few years, before her body finally succumbed.” He smiles absently at me. “Fortunately, the spell was a failure.”

I look between the thaumatist and my husband. My husband is staring at me, eyes wide. His chest heaves up and down with heavy breaths. There’s a tension in the room, growing with each passing second. I can feel it pressing on my back, stretching between him and me.

And then it snaps. “Alert the high guard. Tell them we’re going to the Warren.” The thaumatist rises and exits the room, unhurried. The door closes behind him and my husband moves to the wardrobe.

I sit up while he’s rifling through something on the bottom of the wardrobe. “I, um.” My voice comes out with a bit of a squeak. He doesn’t seem to notice. He grabs a paper-wrapped box and sets it down behind him, then crosses the room to grab a large suitcase from under the bed. “What- what���s going on?”

He pauses and lifts his head to look at me. There’s something harsh and cold in his eyes, but when he catches my gaze, he pauses. He slides the suitcase away and rises to sit on the bed next to me.

“If the thaumatist is correct, then someone has tried to kill you, and nearly succeeded. That’s an assassination attempt. We can’t stay here.” He unlatches the suitcase and glances inside it. “Your medicine and our clothes are sorted.” He glances around the room. “Where’s your cane?”

“I don’t know?” I sputter out. I can’t even remember needing a cane. He glances around a room for a moment, then grabs something from next to the bed, and places it into the suitcase.

“The horses will be ready for travel in twenty minutes,” he says. “Most of our supplies are packed already, and the kitchens can quickly prepare food to take with us. I’ll need to prepare some letters for the generals, in case I’m out of contact- can you-” He looks into my face once more and his expression shifts a little. “No, I suppose not.”

I swallow hard. “I don’t- I don’t know what’s going on.” My voice sounds like it’s verging on frantic, even to me. “I don’t even know who you are.”

He looks at me for a long moment. Slowly, he sits down on the bed again. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I say automatically. He purses his lips.

“This must be scary for you.” There’s a little strain to his voice, like he’s trying hard to keep it steady. “You need to hold on for now, okay? I can explain more when we get to the Warren.”

“I just want to know exactly what’s going on,” I say. My voice is small, and a little shaky. He presses his lips together.

“Someone tried to hurt you,” he says in a slow voice that doesn’t manage to hide his anxiety. “We need to make sure you’re going to be safe. That we’re both going to be safe. So we’re going to a safe house for a little bit. Just to make sure.”

“Okay.” Everything is starting to feel a little floaty. Maybe I am dreaming. Maybe I’ll wake up in a few moments. Things don’t exactly feel real anymore. “I- okay. I, uh. Can I just know your name?”

He blinks a few times. A flicker of something crosses his face, almost like he’s about to cry. Then it’s gone. “Rastek,” he says. “I need to go take care of some things. Stay here. I will get you when we’re ready to leave.”

Just like that, he marches out of the room. The door bangs shut and I am sitting alone.

I thought being along might make it easier to process my thoughts, but it seems to have only made things worse. My brain whirls, churning up questions that I can’t answer. How did this happen? Is this even real? What happened to my home, my family, my pet? Can I reverse this? Should I reverse this? How do I even begin to find anything out?

Distantly, I realize that I’m hyperventilating. The room sways and I’m abruptly on my back, looking at the ceiling. Everything feels strangely far away. I think I’m crying. I’m not sure. There’s a darkened spot on the ceiling and my eyes lock onto it.

After a little while, my breathing calms. The floaty sensation eases, though it doesn’t go away. I feel like I want to sleep for a week. Or just drop off the face of the earth. Am I even on Earth anymore? That thought makes me give a weird little laugh. It doesn’t sound like a laugh.

The door opens. Footsteps cross the room. “Are you awake?” Rastek asks. A hand touches my shoulder. He’s looking down at me, a slight frown creasing his brows. “We need to get going.”

My body feels heavy as rocks, but I heave myself out of bed. It’s difficult to control my body. Like I’m puppeteering it or controlling it by remote. My breathing snags strangely in my chest.

Something catches my shoulder. It takes a second for me to process that it’s a hand. “What’s wrong?” Rastek leans over me, his other hand coming up to tilt my face toward him.

“Um.” I can’t quantify what’s wrong. Everything. Everything is wrong. Rastek peers more intently into my face.

“What’s wrong? What doesn’t feel good?” he presses. Everything. I make a sort of vague gesture with my hand.

“I can’t-” My throat convulses and I nearly sob. I can see Rastek swallow.

“It’s all right. The physician is waiting for us. I can carry you.” Before I even process that, he’s hefting me into his arms with very little effort. It’s quite practiced- he settles me against his chest as if he’s done it hundreds of times before. He snags the suitcase as an afterthought, then takes off at a jog.

From my position, I can’t get a good look at our surroundings. I can just look up at Rastek’s face. His expression is stern, jaw clenched. But there’s a little quiver at the corner of his mouth that makes my heart clench.

It takes only a few moments to exit the building into a sprawling yard. The sun is bright, though there’s a chill in the air. Dirt pathways carve through the green lawn in interesting, though pretty inefficient, landscape.

There’s a gaggle of people and horses toward the center of the lawn and Rastek heads right toward them.

“Sir!” A woman in armor, similar to what Rastek wears, hustles over. “We’re almost ready, just waiting on your signal.”

“Thank you, general. I’ll be along in a moment. Physician! Come.” He walks a small distance away, then kneels and deposits me on the ground. “Lie back,” he says, his voice abruptly softening. “The physician will help.”

“What is the matter?” the physician asks as he comes up behind us.

“She’s unwell,” Rastek says, though he doesn’t take his eyes off me. “She’s been moving strangely, and she can barely speak to me.”

The physician pokes and prods and asks a few questions, simple enough ones that I can answer. Strangely, the experience seems to be helping. By the end, I’m feeling, if not calm, at least more attached to my body.

“She’s in shock,” the physician says. Rastek, who has been pacing, stops and drops down next to me.

“In shock?” He stares at me before whipping his head back toward the physician. “She’s not sick?”

“No. More like what sometimes happens when a soldier experiences a terrible battle. They may be physically unharmed, but they may be mentally struggling. I imagine losing her memories would be a frightening enough event to cause shock." The physician looks steadily at me. “Do you know what I’m saying?” I nod. “Good. Take a deep breath for me, all right?” I inhale slowly. “Let it out.” I exhale. “There we go. Keep breathing just like that.”

The physician leads me in breathing for several moments. His voice is low and soothing, and it’s easy to relax to. “Good. You’re doing very well. How are you feeling now?”

“I don’t know.” My voice is small, but it’s rather steady. “Everything feels wrong. I can’t-” My voice trembles.

“It’s all right,” the physician says. “You’re doing very well. It’s overwhelming. Keep breathing for me, all right?” He takes an exaggerated deep breath. I mimic him. “That’s it. I know it’s scary, but you’re safe. Everything is going to be okay.” I nod. “Okay. We need to move right now. Do you feel comfortable traveling?”

“I think so.” I’m not sure what other answer I could give. The physician offers me his hand and helps me up. Rastek hovers at my side, hands slightly raised like he’s ready to catch me.

“You’re certain she’s safe to travel?” he asks, fixing the physician with a stern look.

“In all honesty, I would prefer that she rest, but it would probably be more dangerous to her health to stay here at the moment.”

Rastek lets out a soft sigh. “Thank you for your assessment.” The physician nods and walks away toward a gathering of servants. “Come. The sooner we leave, the sooner we’ll get there and you can rest.”

He leads me over to a pair of horses. They’re both pitch black and bulkier than I was expecting. I always think horses are going to be smaller than they actually are. Rastek hesitates and turns back toward me. “I would surmise that you no longer remember how to ride?”

“Er…” I technically have ridden a horse before, but given that I was just in the saddle while a handler led the animal around, I don’t think it gave me any useable skills. “No.”

“We’ll ride together, then.” Rastek gestures for me to step closer to the horse, and I eye the saddle. I don’t even remember how to climb onto a horse. As I’m trying to decide the least embarrassing way to attempt it, Rastek seizes me around my waist and hoists me up.

It’s a smooth motion, and I’m in the saddle before I totally process what’s happening. The horse shifts underneath me and I cling to the saddle. Rastek clambers up behind me, making me wobble dangerously. “Careful,” he murmurs. He tugs me back so I’m resting securely against his chest, his other hand reaching around me to hold the reins.

Oh, god. I am way too aware of how much he’s touching me. His fingers tickling gently at my stomach where his hand rests. The warmth of his chest behind my head, shifting slightly with his breathing. The way his legs are pressed up against me. My heart is hammering and I feel vaguely tingly all over.

“Into formation!” Rastek barks. I shrink down a little from his booming voice. “Move out!”

We drop into a practiced formation as we ride, a couple of heavily-armored people in front of us, our horse in the middle, and more armored guards and servants bringing up the rear. Every now and then, the guards will switch positions or come into line with Rastek to give him an update. One of Rastek’s arms stays around me the whole time, rubbing absentminded circles on my stomach.

Riding a horse, as it turns out, is a bit like you took the worst parts of riding in a car and made them more uncomfortable. Looking at the scenery can only keep me occupied for so long, and I can’t sleep because about twenty percent of my attention is focused on not falling off the horse. It’s much more effort than I remember- even with Rastek holding onto me, my thighs burn with the effort of keeping myself upright.

The day is warm, even as we travel through shaded areas. Sweat slides along the back of my neck and sticks my clothes to my body. The horses seem to be slowing down too, lather gathering on their hides. We end up coming to a stop near a shallow brook.

Rastek swings down off the horse and tugs it toward the water. “Do you need help coming down?” he asks.

I hesitate- I definitely do need help, but I’m afraid that if I move, I’ll get tangled in the reins or straps of the saddle and fall. “Uh. I think so.”

Rastek looks at me patiently, then slightly more impatiently when I don’t move. “Lift the leg on the other side of the horse and bring it around so you’re facing me.”

That seems easier said than done. As soon as I lean to one side to swing my leg around, my entire body tilts in that direction, threatening to overbalance. My stomach gives that terrifying drop and I seize the horse’s neck, practically throwing myself flat against its back. Rastek huffs out a sigh. My face burns.

“Here.” He lifts his arms toward me. “Try again. I will catch you if you fall.”

He’s still wearing metal, so it doesn’t look like the most comfortable landing, but I don’t want to stay on the horse for the rest of my life. Hesitantly, I lift my leg again.

This time, I have a better sense of balance. Moving quickly is the solution here- if I swing my leg around and lean back against the movement at the same moment, I can keep my balance. Once turned, I’m sitting more or less side-saddle, facing Rastek.

“Good,” he says, arms still raised. “Now just slide forward. I will catch you.”

I brace my arms against the horse and, after a moment, I slide forward. There’s a moment of surprise as I start to fall. Then, Rastek’s hands close around my waist.

He holds me only for a moment before he sets me on the ground, but I can still feel his hands even after he releases me. It lingers for several moments.

“Are you feeling all right?” Rastek asks.

“I think so.” My legs are sore and shaky, and I think I have blistered on the inside of my thighs, which is possibly one of the worse sensations I’ve ever experienced. “I’m just tired, I think.”

Rastek makes a little ‘tch’ noise. “No surprise.” He touches your forehead with the back of his hand. The feeling is so gentle that your breath actually catches in your throat. “You’re still a touch feverish.” His eyes narrow just a little. “I wish you could have a little medicine, but it’s going to make you tired.”

“I’m all right,” I say automatically. “It’s fine.”

“Hm,” he murmurs. “Rest here for a bit. I’m going to discuss our travels with the others.”

I sit down on a nearby log and watch as Rastek joins a gathering of guards around a map. Their speaking is loud enough that I can hear different voices, but I can’t tell what they’re saying.

After a few minutes of waiting, I slide closer to the creek. I have to hike up my skirts and slide off my shoes to stand at the edge of the water. It’s cold against my toes. A tiny fish darts through the shallows, nearly colliding with my feet before changing direction and vanishing into shadowed water.

It’s been a while since I’ve been in a creek. There’s one near my house, but I found it harder and harder to get out. There are so many things to do, so many things to focus on other than being outside. The creek looks a lot like mine. Tiny fish, smooth stones in the shallows, green grass and reeds partially submerged in the water. If it weren’t for the clothes I’m wearing, I could almost imagine that I’m in my creek again.

A flicker of motion catches my eye. A tiny orange-brown salamander crawls from the shallows up onto a half-sunken stick. I freeze. It tilts its head to one side, sides moving with its quick little breaths.

I watch it for a while, as it sits and suns itself. Slowly as I can, I stretch out a finger until I’m just hovering above it. I reach out with the lightest of touches and rest my finger on its head.

The salamander doesn’t move. I did this with my sister, once. We dared each other to catch the amphibians in the creek. She was always more skilled at it than I was- once she caught three in an hour. I never managed to get more than one.

When I stretch my hand out to touch the salamander once more. Before I can make contact, it darts off the stick and plunges into the water with barely a splash. It’s gone within a second. I stare at the spot where it vanished, a strange sense of loss stirring in my chest.

“We’re almost ready to go.” I spin around, skirts dropping into the water as I drop them. Rastek is standing on the shore, eyes fixed on me. “Would you like to eat before we go?”

I hesitate. I’m not particularly hungry, despite it having been a while since I’ve eating. My anxiety has settled firmly in my stomach and I don’t have much of an appetite. Rastek frowns as I shake my head.

“Are you feeling nauseated?” he asks as I step out of the water and try to shake my skirts off.

“No, I just don’t have an appetite,” I say. Rastek frowns more, his tail swinging back and forth.

“You should eat a little something.” He pulls a cloth bag from our horse and rummages through it for a few seconds before retracting a peach. It looks slightly bruised, probably from being banged around by riding, but after a moment of inspection, Rastek holds it out to me.

I take it, holding it in the palm of my hand. The fuzz on its body tickles a little. It feels dense. Juicy. More out of habit than any desire to eat, I lift it to my mouth and bite.

It’s delicious. The soft flesh gives under my teeth, spilling juice down my chin and through my mouth. It tastes sweet and honeyed and almost spiced. If there was crust, it would be an exact replica for my mom’s peach pie, the one she makes for her birthday every summer. With the warmth in the air and the creek babbling behind me, I could be there. It feels like I’m there…

And then I open my eyes. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them. Rastek is in front of me, hand still slightly extended.

My heart sinks like a weight, dragging my stomach down with it. The peach juice goes acidic in my mouth. I cough, spitting some of the partially chewed fruit onto the ground. I’m not home. I don’t know how to get home. I don’t know if I can.

I’m never going to eat my mom’s peach pie or hunt for amphibians with my sister. I’m stuck here, in a world I don’t remember and don’t understand.

My breath whistles in my chest and my vision slides out of focus. Fuck. Not again. I can’t be doing this again. I have to stop collapsing, I have to pull myself together.

“Are you all right?” Rastek’s voice is closer now. Because he’s closer. One of his hands reaches for me, stops, remains hovering just out of touching distance. He glances over his shoulder like he’s considering calling the physician.

“I’m fine.” My voice comes out weird- too strained and too flat at the same time. “I. Choked. On the juice.”

Rastek looks at me. “You choked.”

“Yes.” The strangled feeling is passing, moving on toward numbness. Good. If I can just not feel for a while, maybe I can have a breakdown in private. Just not here. Not again. Not with people looking at me.

Rastek looks highly unconvinced. His tail swishes back and forth over the ground. I keep my eyes focused on it. The movement is hypnotic. Kind of soothing. It’s at least preventing me from bawling my eyes out.

He’s just drawing in a breath to say something when one of the guards calls out, “My lord?" Rastek pauses, looks over his shoulder in her direction. “We should get going. We’ve already lingered here too long.”

Rastek huffs out a sigh. “Very well. We can move on.” He turns back toward me. “Can you manage for a while longer? We should have some dried fruit you can eat as we go-”

“I’m fine.” The remnants of peach juice in my mouth are turning my stomach. “I can keep going.”

Rastek keeps looking at me, arms folded. “At least drink something,” he says, removing a waterskin from the saddle. He holds it out to me and I take a few gulps. The water is at least more tolerable than food. It’s surprisingly cold, for having traveled so far with us, and there’s almost a mild sweetness to it. I must be thirstier than I thought.

“Up you get,” Rastek mutters as he swings me up onto the horse. He takes the waterskin, reattaches it, then swings himself up behind me. One of his hands settles around my stomach, anchoring me against him while the other takes the reins. With a quick signal to the guards, we’re off again.

My thighs burn with the effort of staying on the horse and with the friction of riding, and our brief break didn’t help much. I end up leaning more against Rastek, though that’s uncomfortable in its own way. I’m way too aware of the constant shift of his breathing and how close his hips are to me.

The sun starts to sink and we keep riding. One group of guards splits off from us as we go, heading in a different direction. Then another group. The ones remaining close rank, tightening our formation. Rastek shifts in the saddle. His tail snakes around me, holding me securely by the waist. Every now and then, he rubs my back or murmurs something reassuring to me. “We’ll be there soon. You’ll be all right.” It would be more comforting if I couldn’t hear the tension in his voice.

It’s as the last bits of sunlight finally drop below the horizon that I see a building on the horizon. Rastek spurs his horse onward, leaning forward and against me in an effort to get there faster. “Just a little longer,” he huffs into my hair. “We’re almost there.”

The building is made of stone and fairly large, though not as big as where we’re coming from. It’s larger than my house at home, that’s for sure. My skin tingles as we trot past the low, wrought iron fence that surrounds the property and into the generous yard.

“Unsaddle the horses,” Rastek says to one of the guards. “Physician, come with me. The rest of you, ensure that the kitchens are stocked and get some rest in the servant’s quarters. I will bring my wife to her room.”

He slips off the horse and turns toward me, arms lifted. This time, when I reach for him, instead of placing me on the ground, he pulls me against his chest. His arms come around me with ease, holding me tightly but not aggressively, one hand supporting my head. Despite being in a very droppable position, I feel secure.

A guard walks into the house ahead of us, along with the thaumatist. The thaumatist stops, turns in a slow circle in the middle of the entranceway.

“Well?” Rastek says. The hand supporting my head moves absently, rubbing back and forth. His nails scrape against my scalp.

“Seems safe enough,” the thaumatist says. His expression is dreamy and unconcerned.

“Safe enough?” Rastek repeats. The thaumatist shrugs.

“I detect no magic here other than what I would expect from the internal systems. But nothing’s ever one hundred percent. Theoretically, there’s a chance someone could insert a spell that disguised itself as a part of internal systems. It would be difficult, but possibly manageable.”

“Is it likely?” Rastek asks, terse. The thaumatist shrugs again.

“Not particularly. It would be a lot of effort, and it would have a high chance of failure.” The thaumatist waves a hand vaguely. I can’t tell if he’s trying to gesture or trying to swat a fly. “It is an interesting concept, though.”

Rastek lets out an enormous sigh. “Then I am going to let me wife rest.” He waves off the guard and heads down a hallway, up a few sets of stairs, and into a small room.

It looks sort of like a room you might see a character in a fantasy movie stay in overnight. A bed, a dresser, a few lamps on the walls, a dusty-looking green rug on the floor. Actually, the entire room looked dusty. Rastek wrinkles his nose and makes a noise like a choked-off sneeze. “This room will need to be cleaned again,” he sighs. “In the morning, perhaps, unless you need it now?”

It takes a moment to realize he’s looking at me expectantly. Given how rarely I actually bothered to dust my room in my own home, this place isn’t that bad. Though it does have that slightly musty, stale smell of disuse.

Rastek walks over to the bed and hesitates. “Would you like to get changed?” he asks. “I can call one of the servants to bathe you, as well.”

I’m sweaty and sort of grimy and the idea of soaking in warm water feels like a luxury. On the other hand, I’m not keen on having a servant there to bathe me.

“I can bathe myself,” I offer. Something happens on Rastek’s face for a moment. It’s hard to read his expression, but it scrunches up oddly before relaxing back into his standard frown.

“Are you certain? You must be exhausted.”

“I’m not too tired to bathe myself,” I protest. Rastek shifts his weight, his tail waving back and forth behind him.

“I’ll get someone to bring some soap,” he finally says. “Don’t bother with your hair tonight, we can have someone help you with that in the morning.” He walks over to a door that I didn’t notice before and swings up open, shifting me to one arm to free his hand. Despite only being supported by one arm, I don’t feel any less secure.

The room beyond the door is really small. By which I mean there’s about two feet of walking space between the toilet, the tub, and the sink. Rastek actually growls, a sound I feel more against his chest than hear.

“It would have been nice to have more space,” he sighs. I almost tell him I don’t mind before the gentle thunk of his tail against the doorframe reminds me that not only is he bigger, but he’s got more limbs. It’s a tight standing space for me. With his tail, I’m not sure he can actually move all that much.

“Are you going to be okay?” I ask. “Maybe we can try another room? I-”

“I’ll be fine,” he reassures me. “It’s tight, but I’ll survive.” He looks around, considering his options for where to put me. There aren’t many. After a few seconds he carefully crouches and places me into the tub. “I’ll get a servant to fetch some soap. Rest.” He pats my head and sweeps out of the room.

I sit up in the tub. I’m along again. For the first time since this morning. I’m not sure I like it. There’s too much space to think about things I don’t want to think about. I sit up and fiddle with the faucets, then look over at the toilet and sink. There appears to be indoor plumbing, which is something of a relief. Given the weird ‘medieval fantasy’ vibe everything seems to give off, I was worried about chamber pots. There are also lights, now that I think about it, though they are weird. I’ve never seen anyone light them or even flick on a switch, but they always seem to be on whenever we enter a room.

Just as I’m about to crawl up and take a closer look at one of the lights, someone knocks on the bathroom door. “My lady? The lord requested I bring you soap. And he asked for me to set some nightclothes out on your bed.”

“Oh! Um. Thank you. Thank you very much.” How are you supposed to respond to a servant? Do I need to dismiss her? That seems rude.

“Can I help you with anything else, my lady?”

“No, no, I’m all right. Thank you.” There’s the sound of retreating footsteps and I carefully move to open the door. The servant is already gone, and in their wake is a small pile of towels with some cream-colored soap resting on top. I gather them up and step back into the bathroom.

While I’m waiting for the tub to fill, I struggle out of my clothes. It’s laced up the back and it takes a lot of stretching to undo it enough to ease it off.

The water is warm and luxurious and focusing on the motions of washing helps me not think about what’s happened to my life. I stay in until the water is cold and my skin is practically raw from scrubbing before forcing myself to get out.

My nightclothes turn out to be a cream-colored nightgown and stockings. I slide them on and all but collapse into bed. The lights are still on, but I don’t know how to turn them off and I don’t care. I’m not getting back up. I’m sore. I’m exhausted. I have no idea what’s going on. I need to sleep.

I do not sleep.

My brain won’t shut up. I can’t even pin down one thought that’s bugging me. It’s just this horrible, nebulous anxiety that makes my stomach turn and my breath come in sharp little gasps.

The room has no windows, so the only way to tell time is to stare at the clock on the wall. The second tick by with horrific slowness. It doesn’t even have the decency to make a little noise; the entire house is oppressively silent.

Eventually, the restlessness crawling under my skin gets the better of me. I slip out of bed and open my bedroom door.

The rest of the house is silent and dark. There’s just enough light to make out the vague shapes of furniture. I rest one of my hands on the wall to help guide me down the hall.

I’m not sure where I’m going, but the restlessness compels me to walk. It’s only after I’ve turned down a few hallways and the light of my room is lost behind me that I realize I don’t know the house’s layout enough to navigate my way back in the dark. Whatever. I wasn’t sleeping anyway, and if I really need to, I can sleep on the ground.

There’s something comforting about walking around in the darkness. Everything is quiet, peaceful. I can’t see anything more than a few inches in front of my face. It’s sort of freeing. Like nothing else exists except for me.

And then my foot catches on something soft and warm and alive in the darkness and I pitch forward.

Whatever I just tripped on grabs my ankle as I fall. The restriction of my leg stops me from correcting my balance. I topple sideways, cracking my hip against a piece of furniture as I do. “Ow! Shit!”

The hand on my ankle loosens. “Dear one?” The voice, rough with sleep, is familiar.

“Rastek?” There’s a fumbling noise and the hand at my ankle vanishes. I sit upright, blinking helplessly in the dark. I can’t see him at all, but I can hear him shuffling into a sitting position.

“What are you doing here?” His voice comes closer, like he’s leaning over me. “It’s late. You should be sleeping.”

“Why are you here?” I whisper back. “Are you sleeping on the ground?”

Rastek snorts. “I’ve slept in far worse conditions on the battlefield.”

“But it’s not like there aren’t beds,” I say. “You could just sleep in one of those.”

There’s a pause. “There’s only one bedroom on this floor of the house and it was expected that we would share it,” he says after a moment. “The guest rooms are not fully set up and I assumed you would prefer to spend the night alone.” I hear him shift and his warmth moves away from me as he stands. “The servants’ quarters would likely have extra beds, but they likely would not appreciate having their lord there when they just want to rest.”

“If you want the bed, you can have it,” I mutter, rubbing my hand over my head. “I’m hardly using it.”

“I noticed,” Rastek says. There might be a hint of amusement in his voice, but it’s hard to tell. “Here, let’s sit on the couch. You can’t see very well, can you?”

“I can’t really see anything,” I admit.

“I can never remember exactly how poor human night vision is,” Rastek says. “Here, I’m going to take your arm…” A hand closes around my upper arm and tugs lightly to my feet. “And back a few steps, that’s it.” The backs of my legs bump against the couch and I half fall, half sit down. “There. Now, we’ve discussed why I’m here.” The couch sinks a little as Rastek sits next to me. “Why are you still awake?”

“No real reason. I just couldn’t sleep.” Rastek’s not quite touching me, but I still feel aware of how close to me he is. There can’t be more than an inch, maybe two inches between us. The space feels electric. Sometimes I can feel the slightest touch of his body against mine when he breathes in.

“Not tired enough?” he asks, gently teasing, but also probing. I huff out a little laugh.

“I’m exhausted. I just can’t- I can’t sleep. It just won’t happen.”

Rastek takes a deep breath in. It’s almost deliberate, like he’s making sure I can hear and follow his inhales. “Your mind won’t settle.”

“No. I’m exhausted and I just can’t sleep. I thought maybe getting up and walking around would help, but I just still feel… restless.”

“Is there anything you feel like would help? There are a few servants still up. I’m certain I could have them fetch you anything you would need.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what would help. I barely know where I am or what’s going on and I’m exhausted.” I slump forward, elbows on my knees. “I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know what to do.”

Something brushes against my shoulder, tentative. The touch stops, then returns, firmer this time. Rastek’s hand moves up and down my back. “I know. I know this is all so much for you. I can’t even imagine. But you’re safe, okay? I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

He shifts just a little closer and I bury my face in his chest. I can’t even bring myself to feel embarrassed about how I’m clinging to him. I’m tired and scared and his warmth is comforting. I need something comforting, more than I need anything else.

At some point, I can feel myself starting to drift off. Rastek shifts his weight a little with a groan, but as soon as I move, he freezes like a statue. “It’s okay. Shh. Relax.” He only moves again once I go completely still.

He stands, adjusts me so I don’t jostle when he walks, then sets off toward my room. It only takes him a few minutes to get there, and even with my eyes closed, I can tell when we cross the threshold because the lights are still on. Rastek mumbles something and the lights dim back to acceptable levels.

“Good night,” Rastek murmurs as he sets me into bed. “Get some sleep, now.” He fusses with the covers for a moment, tucking them around me. For a moment, I can feel him leaning over me, hesitating. Then he steps back and the floor creaks as he walks away from me.

I fall asleep within minutes. It’s the sort of thick, heavy sleep that fogs your brain and merges dreams and reality. When I wake, it feels like I’ve been sleeping for years and also five minutes. My brain swims as I stare up at the ceiling. That’s not my bedroom ceiling. Why isn’t it? Where the fuck am I?

And then everything comes flooding back. Oh. Oh, fuck.

I push myself up, ignoring the stretch and soreness in my legs. My head’s pounding too. I feel a little bit like I’ve been hit by a truck. Or spent several hours riding a horse through a forest. Either or.

Someone knocks on the door and I jump. “My lady?” I think I recognize the voice. It’s the thaumatist. “Would you mind letting me in? I’d like to give a quick examination.”

“Um. The door’s open?” I call. There’s a pause, then the door swings open. The thaumatist drifts in, looking dreamily unfocused. He pauses, blinking in the dark like he hadn’t realized the lights weren’t on for a few steps.

“Will the lights bother your head if I turn them on?” he asks.

I stare at him. “How’d you know I had a headache?”

“These curses always have some effect that will do your head in.” The lights flicker on and I groan automatically, pressing my hands over my eyes. My head throbs, as a corresponding spike of nausea jolts upward from my stomach. “You may keep your eyes closed for the examination, if that would help.” The thaumatist offers. “Oh. Hello, your lordship. I thought you were not spending the night here.”

I open my eyes and look across the room. Rastek is there, sitting against a wall with his cloak partially wrapped around his body. He groans, half lifting a hand to his eyes.

“Have you been in here all night?” I ask. The thaumatist glances sideways at me, eyebrows lifted, but he doesn’t say anything. Rastek stands, cracking his back as he does so. I wince at the noise. “That can’t have been comfortable.”

“I wanted to make sure you got to sleep all right,” he says. “I wasn’t intending to fall asleep here.” He turns to the thaumatist. “An examination?”

“Yes, your lordship.” The thaumatist turns toward me again, reaching his hands out. “Hold still.”

My head tingles momentarily and I sway. “Hmm,” the thaumatist murmurs. “Hmm.” He tilts his head to one side, gaze distant. “Hmmmm.”

It’s nearly a full minute before he takes his hands back. “The magic around you is still agitated. Your soul is… mm. Unsettled.”

Your stomach twists. “That sounds, uh. Kind of bad.”

“Yes, it can be,” the thaumstist says. He sounds more thoughtful than concerned. “Souls are more easily manipulated when not properly in their own bodies. And they can have a tendency to drift.”

“To drift?” Rastek repeats. He’s still standing near the wall, his body a line of tension.

“To wander, to slip away from the body. When the soul is detached from the body, the link between soul and body weakens. It can cause slips, where the body and soul separate from each other. Most often, during sleep, but at other occasions as well. Souls that wander are uniquely vulnerable. They can be captured or injured with greater ease. Or simply have their connection to their body severed.”

“What happens if the connection is severed?” I ask. My voice comes out sort of strangled; I hardly recognize it leaving my mouth.

“Typically, the body dies and the soul moves on or fades,” the thaumatist says. “I can create a personal ward for you that will help tether your soul more firmly in place, but I cannot guarantee anything. Soul magic is difficult.”

“Create the ward as soon as possible, then,” Rastek says. “How long will it take?”

“Oh...” The thaumatist pauses for a minute. Then another minute. Then another. I glance at Rastek just as he turns his head toward me. Our eyes lock for just a moment and I catch a flicker of incredulity, like ‘can you believe this guy?’ written across his face. Then he seems to catch himself and turns his head away. Something in my chest twinges, an odd sense of loss.

“How long?” Rastek repeats, terse. The thuamatist blinks like he’s just registered that he is speaking with other people.

“I’m not sure. All wards are different. A few days, perhaps?”

“Then she’ll be vulnerable for a few days more,” Rastek says. His voice is still tense, but the thaumatist barely seems to register it.

“Yes. I can create something simpler by tonight, something that will detect if her soul is drifting. A shock will return her soul to her body.” The thaumatist tilts his head to one side. “She probably shouldn’t sleep. It weakens the connection.”

Rastek’s tail swishes back and forth. “Very well. And her memories?”

“The memories can be difficult to recover. I can perform some spells that may help. Or they may not. The memories may return on their own. Or they may not return ever. Souls are complex and ill-understood.”

There is silence for a moment. I can see Rastek’s shoulders set tight, barely rising and falling with his breathing. His head is turned away, but I can catch just the unhappy line of his mouth. “Do you want the spells?”

It takes a second to realize he’s talking to me. “Wh- what?”

“The spells to help you recover your memory. Do you want them?” This time he looks fully at me. I can’t read his expression. It’s stern, revealing nothing of his thoughts.

“I- I think so.” I can’t think of any reason to refuse them. If I’m hallucinating, I can’t imagine they’ll do anything and I this is real… then I do want to remember. If I’m supposed to be here, I want to know.

Rastek nods toward the thaumatist. “Then start the treatment.”

The thaumatist turns back toward me and I feel a flicker of nervousness, like I’m about to have a dental procedure. “This won’t hurt,” he says, looking marginally more focused than I’ve ever seen him, “but it will make you woozy.” He extends his hands and rests them on either side of my face. His fingertips press against my cheekbones.

There’s nothing for a moment. Just the thaumatist’s face uncomfortably close to mine. And then, an intense sense of vertigo.

My head spins like I’m somersaulting. I can’t get my eyes to focus. The world looks like a kaleidoscope- just colors spinning and blurring together. I squeeze my eyes shut, which helps the vertigo, but makes the weird sensations in my body all the more obvious. My back burns like I’m lying out in the sun, one of my arms breaks out in goosebumps, my legs tingle with pins and needles, and a sense of pressure rests on my chest. The feelings are intense and disorienting- I can’t get a sense of time or place. It could have been hours since the thaumatist started, or seconds. I could not have moved an inch or I could be somewhere entirely different. I can’t get a sense of where my body is in space.

Finally, it stops. The sensations taper off until I can get a sense of my surroundings again. There are soft sheets at my back, a lightly cool air on my face and the sensation of my nightclothes against my skin.

I open my eyes slowly. I’m still in my bedroom. The thaumatist is sitting back on the bed, looking at me with a curious expression.

“Your soul is complex. And guarded,” he says. “I will be back later with the charm.” He stands and drifts out of the room.

I watch him go before cautiously turning my gaze toward Rastek. He shifts in place, folding his arms over his chest. “Are you feeling all right?”

“I think so,” I say. “It was, uh. Pretty weird.”

His brows pinch. “You were crying out.”

“I- was I?

“Yes. The thaumatist said it was normal.” Rastek closes his eyes for a moment. “He said you might be… experiencing something.”

“Mostly, I think I just felt weird. Not bad, just kind of weird. It didn’t feel like I was doing anything.” Rastek looks neither reassured or concerned by what I’ve said. He just looks at me for a long moment.

“I’m glad you weren’t distressed, then,” he says finally. “I expect you’ll want to get dressed. I can call a servant to assist you.”

“No, I think I can get dressed on my own,” I say hurriedly. The idea of having someone trying to tug me into clothes like a toddler is humiliating. I swing my legs around, stretching in preparation to get up. Rastek turns his head away, stifling a yawn with his hand, and I really look at his clothes for the first time. They’re the same ones he was wearing on our ride, significantly rumpled from sleeping on the ground. His hair looks oddly limp and a bit tangled, and when he turns his head back toward me, his eyes look puffy.

“Hey, uh.” He fixes his gaze on me and I waver for a moment before continuing. “Maybe you should, uh. Get changed too? Maybe take a bath? You must be exhausted. Might help you feel better.”

Rastek stares at me, then looks down at himself. Did he even realize he hadn’t changed his clothes? “Yes. I should. I’ve been… somewhat preoccupied.” He passes a hand over his face. “I’ll have a servant stay near your room. Just shout for them if you need anything. Anything at all.” His expression grows stern. Well, sterner. “Make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“I will,” I say. His voice makes butterflies dance in my stomach. I hurriedly beat the sensation away. “Make sure you’re taking care of yourself too, okay?”

He blinks twice in rapid succession. For a moment, he looks almost startled. Then he gives a quick little nod and hurries out of the room.

As it turns out, getting dresses it a little harder than I was anticipating. I can get into my underclothes, a sort of long linen dress, just fine, but the outer dress proves stubborn. The fabric is thick, making it difficult to move once my arms are in the sleeves. There’s also lacing in the back, which I can reach, but I can’t move my arms enough to pull it taut. Every time I get it tight enough, the slack I have to put into the bindings to make it possible to tie it just loosens the entire thing again. Not to mention that moving in the wrong position makes my back and arms throb with pain.

I wrestle for a while between the desire to do it myself and the desire to actually be able to get dressed. I almost open the door at least three times, but can’t manage to actually go through with it. The idea of asking for help from a stranger because I can’t do up a simple dress is mortifying.

All too soon, there’s a knock at the door. “Are you all ready? You must be starving.” Rastek’s voice is gentle, comforting, and completely unwanted. “You need to eat and take your medicine, still.”

“Um.” My voice comes out way too high pitched. “Can you just- um, I need- uh. I- ow!” I stretch one of my arms back too far and something stings with a sharp, unsettling pain.

“Are you all right?” Rastek’s voice sharpens. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no, I’m all right.” I fumble to lace up my dress and fail once more. “God dammit!”

Rastek is silent for a moment. “Can I come in?”

I fumble a little. “Um. I- I’m not totally…” I trail off. “I’m… uh.”

Rastek waits for another moment. “Are you certain you’re all right? I can send in a servant if you’re not-”

“No! No, I-” I trail off, then slump over in defeat. “I can’t get the dress on. I can’t lace up the back.”

There’s a pause, then a hear the doorknob slowly turn behind me. The door opens one cautious inch at a time, like he’s giving me an opportunity to stop him. “Do you want some help?”

I sag back, sitting gently on the edge of the bed. “Yes.”

Rastek crosses the room and sinks onto the bed behind me. His fingers brush against my back as he gathers the laces. “Were you trying to do this on your own?” he asks. I nod. “The whole time?” I nod again. “Your shoulders must hurt.”

“Yeah.” Rastek tugs the laces until the dress is comfortably snug on me. When he reaches in to tie the laces securely, his fingertips brush against my spine. I shiver.

“It’s not easy to do this on your own. I thought you would ask a servant for help,” he says.

"I... don’t like asking people for help,” I mumble. Rastek makes a strange, almost strangled noise. His hands still and I feel him shaking behind me. After a second, I realize he’s laughing, soft, huffing laughter.

“I should have thought. You really are just the same.” His voice is saturated with warmth. It makes my stomach flip. I swallow hard. “There you are. Laced up.”

“Thank you,” I sigh. Rastek moves his hands up my back, around my shoulder and I freeze.

“Tell me if this is too painful,” he murmurs. His thumbs dig in and the muscle protests for a moment before the feelings settles into the strange pain-relief of a massage.

“It’s always right here that you pull,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “We can put a warm compress on it later, but this should at least help the initial pain.”

After a few minutes, he sits back, his hands sliding off my back. I feel oddly cold in his wake. “Breakfast should be ready now,” he says as he stands. “I’m afraid there’s not much- we have provisions, but they’re limited.”

“I don’t eat much for breakfast usually,” I say, not really thinking. “Just some toast is fine.” At home, breakfast was usually toast or dry cereal, eaten as fast as possible, and yogurt if I was feeling fancy. It’s a fair sight better than most people I know, who are pleased if their breakfast isn’t a cup of coffee.

Rastek stares at me. “You need to eat more than just a slide of toast. You’ll make yourself ill if you don’t.” He extends a hand toward me. “At least try to eat something, all right? You need something in your stomach before your medicine.”

I tentatively lift my hand, my fingers hovering over his. I can feel the warmth of his skin, even without touching it. It’s surprisingly intimate, considering that I spent most of yesterday clinging to his back. My fingers close around his hand and his thumb brushes against my knuckles. A shiver crawls along my spine.

“Let’s go.” Rastek’s hand squeezes around mine, then he gives a gentle tug and leads me out into the hall.

Part 2 is here

[niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian]

I wonder what Sonic's room looks like now that Tails and Knuckles have moved in. At the very least, Tails would most definitely bunk with Sonic in the attic.

I always picture their sleeping arrangements initially as a small pile of pillows and blankets with small fairy lights underneath a little blanket/canopy for Tails while Knuckles would mostly sleep with with just one pillow and blanket near the other window since he's so used to sleeping under the stars and likes to look at the sky.

But once they get fully settled in, Tails would definitely be hooked up with a plane theme bed, whether a bunk bed with a desk underneath or a regular bed is up to him, but I know he would definitely put plane wings on the side of them and a display propeller at the end.

Knuckles is another question, he would be fine sleeping in the attic for a while but also likes to sleep outside since that's what he's used to, so he may have a small hammock in the same place in the room for him to sleep in if it's too cold or raining or he just feels like sleeping in the room.

[jpriest85-blog]

The Accursed King and the Flower Princess 

A short story inspired by @justpked Beyond the Spider Lilies because I can't stop crying thinking about the tragedy of the parent child bond between Aris and Mc. So now I have to make others cry by reading about Seleni and how much she loves her Papa.

Aris could feel a set of eyes staring intently at him, normally such a sensation would lead to him reaching for the nearest sharpened blade available and there are at least half a dozen within reach in his private study. Until he recognized the footfalls of tiny feet that should already be in bed, and a pair of big green eyes underneath a mass of black curls peering up at him over the edge of his desk. 

"Seleni what are you doing out of bed?" Aris tries to sound disapproving but can't quite keep the small amused smile off his face when his five year old daughter walks into full view. She's tugging at the hem of her nightgown "Baby was scared to sleep by himself, so I let him into my room. I know you and Ren told me not to let him get used to sleeping in my bed since he'll be bigger when he's grown but…" she's already giving Aris the pleading puppy dog eyes while holding up a story book. 

"You want me to read you another bedtime story?"

Seleni shakes her head and corrects her father, "no I want you to read Baby a bedtime story."

"You want me to tuck you back in, after you snuck out of bed," his daughter nods in agreement. 

"So I can read a bedtime story to your pet Chimera after I told you repeatedly not to let him sleep in the bed with you." 

"But he's so little!" Aris just raises a brow at his daughter's pleading. "And he's scared of sleeping by himself. Papa, you always read to me whenever I'm too scared to sleep by myself. I just want him to feel safe too, because I love him so so soooo much." Aris cannot refute that argument, especially when his treasured daughter makes full use of her big green eyes and the little pout. So he's just going to accept this rare instance of defeat, pick up his daughter and carry her back to her room. 

He can already hear the Chimera cub scratching and yowling in indignation at Seleni's bedroom door, as well as Ren's distressed whirring as the automaton frantically searches and calls out for xyr charge. Suddenly the bedroom door is flung open revealing a relieved Ren holding a little fluffy white baby chimera in xyr arms.

"Oh there you are Sece! Forgive me Sir! Xe will be more diligent in keeping Seleni and Baby's Breath in their respective sleeping quarters during bedtime." 

Aris tucks his daughter in her large canopy bed and turns towards Ren to take the squirming Chimera cub from xyr arms.

"We've decided to let Baby stay in my daughter's room just for tonight."

"Are you sure? Sir you were so adamant before…"

"It will not become a habit. Seleni was concerned because her pet seemed scared." Aris refuses to acknowledge Ren's knowing look. As if the automaton is wordlessly saying "you caved in because she kept making those sad baby doll eyes again didn't you?" 

It was not an unreasonable thing for his daughter to worry about her pet feeling frightened. Like most young children, little Sece was fascinated by various animals, but she is especially fond of the ones that other people might consider too frightening, dangerous, gross or strange. She's read  (or rather had Ren and Aris help her read) enough naturalist textbooks to know despite being such fierce creatures, Chimera cubs are very vulnerable. Their horns, fangs, and claws are too small to fend off larger predators and they're unable to breath fire until they're at least a year old. An albino Chimera could never survive that long in the wild, especially since they're lack of natural camouflage means they're often abandoned by their mothers, in favor of other cubs more likely to survive to adulthood. Aris couldn't leave the helpless little creature crying alone in the overgrowth (it reminded him too much of how he first found Seleni).

So he'll allow Baby's Breath to curl up in his daughter's lap while Ren restarts the usual bedtime routine. As Aris reads the fairy tale aloud (to Baby as his daughter insisted) narrating the story of a beautiful princess born out of flowers who lifted the curse placed on the kingdom through clever wits, bravery, and kindness. 

"Papa, why do so many stories always have the princess kissing someone to break a curse?"

"Something about love overcoming the most powerful magic."

"Does it really work?"

Aris looks down at his daughter unsure how to answer her innocent question, "why do you ask that, my treasure?"

"I overheard some of the other grown-ups whispering about how papa is cursed…but since I'm your daughter that means I'm a princess too! And I love papa more than anything in the whole world! So I thought if I gave papa kisses every day it would be enough to break your curse," she explained with all the earnest belief only young children possess. 

Many people would accuse the Accursed King of being heartless, and for a while Aris even believed it himself. Until he met daughter and now his heart is breaking, because his most treasured little girl believes with her whole being that just loving her father would break his curse, and he wishes so badly that it could be true. He doesn't even realize he's crying until he feels his Seleni's little hands wipe his tears, kissing his forehead and cheek pleading, "papa please don't cry." He's not so cruel to tell her the truth, that while Seleni is the key to breaking his "curse" there is no happy ending for him. Instead he just tells her he loves her too, and he vows he will always love her no matter what. 

Aris does keep that vow for his entire life. Just as princess Seleni always gave her father a kiss whenever they greeted or parted from each other. Even when she grows up and becomes as lovely, intelligent, fearless, and compassionate as any princess one might read about in a fairy tale. Even when another scarred young prince who believes himself cursed, tries to steal away her heart, and as much as Aris tries to scare off the brat, he cannot deny Valar is utterly devoted to his daughter. Still Seleni assures her father she still loves her papa, but she also loves the Nilhiems prince too. It's why she agreed to marry him so Valar can know what it's like to have a good father in his life. She's willing to share her beloved Papa with him, can't he at least pretend to tolerate Valar for her sake? And again the Accursed King concedes to his daughter's earnest and pleading green eyes. 

Those same green eyes are the last thing Aris sees filled with tears as she sobs. Pleading for her papa to forgive her as she presses kisses against Aris' forehead and cheek like she did as a child. With his last bit of strength the Accursed King just wipes the tears from his daughter's face. "You were right, my treasure. A princess's kiss finally did break the curse," and with a gentle smile he finally finds peace as his life leaves him, and Death claims him from his daughter's embrace. 

[vex-bittys]

Tit for Tat: A Mamba Drabble

NOTE: This story involves a reader with breasts. There is no adult content.

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Since the dawn of time, those of us whose chests have been crowned with breasts have faced a common and unrelenting enemy: gravity. Through our long and storied history, mankind has waged an unending battle against this foul nemesis of breasts, but we succeed only in awakening a slumbering beast and exchanging one adversary for another. 

Bearing the shield, sword, and armor of underwires, padding, and lace we press forward only to find that our age-old enemy has been joined by a merciless ally: hellish discomfort. In seeking the perfect mixture of ideal fit and adequate lift for our breasts, we can only choose which wicked villain deals the final, murderous blow: lack of proper support or lack of even a modicum of comfort.

All is not lost, claims an unasked-for advertisement that you scroll past the first ten or eleven times without a second glance. Finally, the message sinks in. There is a new brassiere design, one that promises that all-important breast support and may very well be (according to the company that sells it) the most comfortable article of clothing you’ve ever worn in your life. You can’t add it to the cart fast enough, sparing a regretful glance for your trusty old bra which has by now become a decrepit shadow of what it once was.

Good-bye, Old Faithful. Hello, new Wonderbra.

When the package arrived, you couldn’t wait to experience the long-anticipated bliss of the perfect bra. By the end of the day though, regret had finished burying bliss’s cold, dead body in the box your “perfect” bra had come in. In an attempt to be both comfortable and supportive, the brassiere in question had failed miserably at both. 

“This stupid thing is killing me,” you grumbled, fumbling with a ridiculous clasp system, too preoccupied with escaping the titty torture device to give your miniature Mamba his after-work scritches. You couldn’t get the damn thing off fast enough, rubbing red spots on your shoulders and chest as you donned your softest pajamas. When you finally turned your attention to your lamia bitty, it took you a few moments to find him.

Two small pinpricks of purple light glowed from underneath your bed. Your Mamba’s eyelights were locked on the offending piece of clothing laying discarded in the middle of the floor. He must have heard your complaint and taken the words seriously (unsurprisingly… he is a Mamba, after all). Suddenly, a shimmering purple streak burst from cover with a mighty (but also adorably tiny) roar. The Mamba pounced onto the bra, tussling with the undergarment until he’d wrestled it into submission. Growling and chomping at one cup of the bra, he lashed his little tail until he felt satisfied that the bra was well and truly dead and your near-fatal discomfort appropriately avenged.

The mighty hunter and defender of your honor dragged his vanquished enemy over to you, puffing his chest out while you thanked him for saving the day. At least the fang-holes in the bra would keep the retailer from putting it back on the shelf, you reasoned. Lifting the mighty Mamba onto the computer desk so that he could revel in your attention and praise, you submitted a return ticket full of choice words to describe the bra.

After clicking submit, you couldn’t help scanning the internet for a better bra. Unfortunately, high quality bras demanded high prices. You found a website with custom sizing and options, and against your better judgment, you went through the process of selecting a bra that would be perfect for your specific body type. You added it to the website’s cart to check the price and groaned. You hated the thought of spending so much money on yourself. It looked like you would be making amends with Old Faithful after all.

Before you had a chance to close the browser window in favor of a scroll through social media, your Mamba lifted himself up to press himself against the computer screen, getting good and close to check out the image of the bra you’d selected. “Good,” he finally declared, tapping the screen.

“Yeah, it’s good, but I don’t want to spend that much money,” you told him, showing him the hefty price tag. To your surprise, he huffed indignantly.

Pointing to his luxurious nest with its pile of soft cushions and canopy of tulle and fairy lights, he said: “Nice for me.” His tiny skeletal finger swung around to point at his wardrobe trunk next, spilling over with designer bitty outfits and accessories. “Nice for me,” he repeated. Rearing up to his full 3 inch height, the bitty jabbed his little finger at the computer screen then propped both hands on his hips and turned his itty bitty baleful glare on you. “Why no nice for you?” he demanded.

The miniscule lamia had a point. He punctuated that point by attempting to buy the item, though in reality he was just pressing the spacebar and mumbling “Buy, buy, buy” under his breath. You let him continue on like that for a moment before doing the clicking, shipment, and payment yourself.

Your Mamba gave a satisfied nod when the “Order success” message popped up.

When you and your Mamba curled up in respective beds that night, you both reflected on a good day’s work completed. You’d splurged on yourself, something you really needed to do more often, and your Mamba had bravely and nobly defended your life and honor from yet another inanimate object.

More Drabbles | INDEX | Read on AO3

[afictionalwhore]

The Sweet Death of Kurono Hari

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A/N: This man is so fine, and for what? Chrono needs more love and I will die on this hill. Shoutout to @jadequeen88 for beta reading 💕 I’d be lost without her.

Tags: Daddy kink, Age gap, Violence, Quirkless AU, Mafia AU

Words: 4K

Rating: 18+

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"Daddy," you whimpered, grinding down on Hari's growing erection and pulling on his tie. "Daddy please I need you."

Weakly, the silver haired man pushed you down and away from him. You were going to be the death of him one of these days.

"Please," he protested, grabbing your hips to still you on him. "We can’t. Not here."

He was in the private library of your father’s estate. Hari rarely ever had time to himself and decided to wind down the day in the cozy privacy of the library. 

Kurono Hari, right hand man to the leader of the nation's most feared criminal organizations, Chisaki Kai, did not have much of a love life. This didn't bother him in the least. Cold and callous, Hari didn't understand the need for love, fearing it would only get in the way of better serving Kai. That was until you, Kai’s only daughter, had pushed yourself onto him. 

You had been out drinking with friends and had called Hari to pick you up, per your father’s request, refusing to allow you to the risk of a riding in a pubic taxi. Those were breeding grounds for diseases. You were too important. 

As Hari drove you back to your estate, your fingers danced along Hari’s thighs over his crisp black pants, nails scratching him ever so lightly.

“It’s so hot,” you had whined, slipping out of your fluffy white fur half jacket. You wore your black mini dress, the one that hugged your chest and every other beautiful curve. The one with the tiny slit in the side to show the slightest peek of your thighs. The one that drove Hari absolutely mad.

Hari couldn’t help but to glance, but thankful that he had to focus on the road and couldn’t risk ogling at you.

“I can turn on the air, Miss,” Hari coughed. Eyes straight ahead on the road. The way his grip tightened on the wheel did not go unnoticed by you. 

“No, it’s fine. That jacket was beginning to get itchy anyways.”

After Hari had pulled into the gated driveway of your estate, he tried to unbuckle his seatbelt, fumbling in his hurry to get away from you and take care of his growing need.

“Hari,” you called. You felt your heart pounding in your ears and prayed that Hari couldn’t hear it as well. You had never used his given name before, only his family name or the old nickname your father had given him when they were younger.

Hari froze upon hearing you. He let go of the seat belt, letting it snap back against the car with a clink that got lost in the thick air between the two of you, and slowly turned to face you. You had crawled over the center console and were no more than a few centimeters away from him, gazing at him with those bright starry eyes. 

Before either of you knew it, you had crashed forward onto Hari, crawling fully out of your passenger seat to sit in his lap in the driver seat to smash your lips against his in a frenzied kiss.

She’s drunk. She’s drunk. She’s drunk. Hari chanted in his mind like a personal mantra. He could taste the lingering alcohol on your tongue. Yet he continued to kiss you, not finding the strength within himself to pull away. This is wrong. 

Finally, the lack of air became too much, and you pulled away from Hari, the both of you panting and fogging up the driver window. 

“I’m not drunk,” you said after a few moments to regain your breath. “Only enough to give me the confidence to finally act on this.”

“Act on…on what?” Hari trailed. The lack of air flow to his brain caused him to get drunk off you.

“Don’t play dumb with me, old man. I see the way you look at me, like you just want to swallow me whole. And believe it or not, I want you too” you sprinkled kisses along Hari’s neck and jaw. “For months now, all I’ve wanted is you. I want you on me, all over me, in me.”

You had ended the night in a heated tangle of limbs and breathless promises against foggy windows that it was just that one time.

It was supposed to be just the once, but Hari couldn’t get enough of you, and you couldn’t get enough of him. Once turned into twice, which turned into every possible moment, as little as sneaking glances across a room or stolen kisses as Hari played his part as your chauffeur. You loved the thrill of quickies in Hari’s office, teasing him under his desk until the usually composed man broke and bent you over said desk. Hari would never forget the one night your father was out and he had stayed the night with you in your luxurious four poster canopy bed. Hari let you push him down on the soft down comforters, giggling the whole time. 

Hari never felt younger. The excitement that came with the secrecy had added a spring to his tired, worn steps. You felt like you had blossomed. There was a glow about you and a spring in your every step. You were like Romeo and Juliet, except Juliet was the daughter of a yakuza leader, and Romeo was said leader's most trusted, and perhaps only, friend. 

About a month into your little affair, Hari realized that he loved you, but he never pushed it, afraid that to you he was nothing but a thrill. You were young, and could easily drop someone as old as Hari, who up until recently would have contented himself to being simply a father figure.

While he was reading in the plush, red chair illuminated by the glow of the crackling fireplace you had slipped into the library. The high back of the chair faced away from you, allowing you to sneak behind Hari.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, poking your head around the back of the chair to peer at the rather small book in his hands.

Hari jumped at the sudden sound of your voice before dropping his book on the floor with an unceremonious flop.  

“Nothing to concern yourself with," he said. "Just thought I’d read a bit since I had some free time."

“Why didn’t you come see me?” You pouted before moving around the chair to face Hari.

Finally seeing you, Hari noticed you had dolled up. Your cheeks were flush with blush and eyes round with black liner. Your lips were Hari’s favorite shade of red. 

You were wearing your favorite, his favorite, robe: sheer black with fur lined cuffs and edges; gracing the floor and trailing behind you long. The robe that screamed, “I didn’t kill my husband, officer, I promise,” or in your case, “I’m the daughter of the nation’s most feared mafia leader and sleeping with his equally terrifying right hand.” In short, the robe meant power, and you were all too aware of the power you held over Hari. 

“I thought you were asleep.”

 You looked at Hari through thick lashes and quirked an eyebrow in silent question: “really?”

“Clearly, I’m awake, and truthfully, I’m having an awful time falling asleep Mr. Kurono.”

“Kai’s home.” Hari hoarsely whispered, his throat going dry. 

His excuses and protests fell upon deaf ears and altogether stopped when you shed that fateful robe to reveal black lace underneath. You settled yourself into his lap, straddling his now hard length teasing you from under his suit pants. With your smaller hands planted firmly on his shoulders, you gave a slow roll of your hips, moaning softly. 

“Daddy, please,” you whined, rolling against him once again.

“We should stop.” Thick hands gave a gentle squeeze on your hips. 

“Hari, please,” you whispered, looking up at him from under your lashes, stars in your eyes. 

How could he ever say no to you, the only woman he had allowed himself to fall in love with?

Hari cupped your face in his strong hands, holding your gaze for a moment before descending down on your lips in a hungry kiss. Your arms came up off the chair to wrap around Hari’s neck, pulling him deeper into you as your mouths melted together. 

This is wrong, Hari always told himself. He was old enough to be your father, even if just barely. Yet, Hari never found the strength to pull away from you completely, melting in chocolate left out on a hot summer’s day the moment you laid your sweet round eyes on him and called out to him in your honeyed voice. It was supposed to be just that one night, but you had managed to wrap him around your delicate, manicured finger, and Hari was willing to take a bullet for you not out of loyalty to your father but of love for you. You were going to be the death of Kurono Hari.

Hari stood, strong hands holding your ass as you continued to kiss. He laid you gently on the deep red rug by the fire, holding you tight against him as though he were afraid you could slip right out of his grasp. He trailed kisses down your neck and along your collarbone.  

“This has to go,” Hari breathed against your sternum and tugged on the lace covering you from him.

You giggled before pushing yourself up, Hari moving to give you the space to sit up and unclasp the black lace. You tossed your bra away just in front of the fireplace. Once undressed, you tugged on Hari’s tie, pulling him down to eye level. 

“Your turn,” your breath washed over Hari, causing him to fall deeper into the spell of you. 

Hari wasted no time. Loosening his tie just enough to slip out of it before hastily undoing the buttons of his crisp white shirt. He tossed them both on the seat of the chair then dove back down to swallow you in a greedy kiss.

He crawled back over you to force you back down to lay under him. One large hand kneaded at your breast while his mouth enclosed on the other one, sucking until your nipple had grown hard. 

With a lewd pop, Hari pulled off of your breast to give attention to its twin and rolled your wet and sensitive bud between his fingers.

“You’re delicious,” Hari breathed against your skin, causing goosebumps to prickle. He continued trailing kisses down your navel until he reached more black lace. 

Slowly, as if to savor every second, Hari pulled your panties off of you. You had already grown wet from your earlier grinding, and his kisses did nothing to help.

“Lift up for me, baby girl” he said, tugging on the lace. 

You obeyed, lifting your hips enough to allow Hari to shimmy the scanty soaked fabric off of you before throwing it to be with his discarded clothes. 

With nothing barring you from him, Hari pulling your legs onto his shoulders. He gave teasing nips and kisses up each of your thighs, delighting in your pussy’s clenching.

“Please, Daddy,” you begged breathlessly. “I need you.”

Hari dragged a finger up your dripping slit before spreading your lower lips.

“You have such a pretty pussy,” he cooed. “And I just love how it tastes, too.”

With that, Hari licked a teasing strip along your pussy before giving a flick of his tongue to your clit. His lips enclosed on your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud. You moaned at the contact. In earnest, like it was his last meal, Hari drank in everything you had to offer. 

He poked a teasing finger at your hot entrance as he continued to suck at your clit.

“Hari, please,” you bucked your hips and grabbed his silver locks in an attempt to gain more contact, more friction. 

Hari held you down and shushed at you.

“Patience, baby girl. I got you.”

He pushed the finger into you to the knuckle, feeling your sticky walls pulse around him at finally being filled with something. Sparks flew up your spine, heating your body with every curl of Hari’s thick finger.

As your cries grew in volume, Hari knew you were reaching your end. He added a second finger, relishing in the ease with which he could slip into you.

“Please Hari, please,” you cried. “I want to cum.”

Curling his fingers to hit the spot he knew would push your over your edge, Hari hummed against your clit.

“Cum for me then, baby girl. Come on Daddy’s face.”

That was the last push you needed. Your grip on Hari’s hair tightened as you pushed his face further into you. Your mouth fell open in silent cries of Hari’s name, and you swore you saw stars dancing along the library’s high ceiling above you. 

As you were climbing back down from your high, Hari pulled away just enough to rid himself of the rest of his constricting clothes. You drank in your lover’s face, his chin glistening with your juices in the flickering light of the fireplace, while he admired your body, the way the color of your skin complimented the deep red of the carpet below perfectly. 

Hari crawled towards you once the last of his clothes had been discarded to lay with the rest. Holding his thick cock in his hand, he dragged it up your convulsing heat, collecting your slick. 

“Is this what you wanted, baby girl?” he teased, smirking down at you.

You were in no mood for games and immediately set to begging. 

“Yes, Hari! Please,” you whined.

“Anything for you. You’re such a good girl.” 

Hari laid back down on you, placing his hands on either side of your face. He placed sweet kisses along your temple as he pushed into you. While he wasn’t the longest, Hari was thick and stretched you in all the right ways. You were always hot and welcoming. 

You hissed at the initial burn, going from Hari’s finger to his cock was always a welcome stretch. You clawed at his back as Hari pulled out slowly, only to slam back into you, his tip kissing your cervix with every thrust.

“Daddy! There!” you wailed as Hari hit your sweet spot.

Hari set a steady pace, not wanting to go too fast to ruin the romantic atmosphere, but already halfway to his end from teasing you. This was your favorite, and Hari knew you wouldn’t last long with the feeling of the slow drag of his cock pulling out of your tightness.

Your hot, gummy walls seemed to pull him into you, as though you were made for him and him alone. You fit him like a glove, wrapping perfectly around his cock and pulsing around him. You could say the same of Hari, as the man was curved just enough to hit against your sensitive spot with every push and pull of his cock. 

"Hari!” you squeaked as Hari hit that sweet spot within you. “Hari, I love you.”

Hari stilled.

“What did you say?” he asked, steel eyes bored into yours. 

“I love you.”

“Do you mean it?”

“Yes.” 

Hari felt like his heart would burst. He bent down to swallow your lips in a hungry kiss.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” Hari panted into your mouth before moving to kiss your jaw, your neck, chest, and any place his lips could find, continuing his chants of love between every warm kiss.

Just hearing those three little words were enough to drive Hari to his end, his kisses getting wetter and his thrusts sloppier with each passing “I love you”. With wet kisses to swallow each other’s moans, it didn’t take long for either of you to finish. You threw your head back with a cry of Hari’s name and he sunk his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulder.

Hari understood why they called it “la petite mort”, a little death. Laying on you, dizzy with breathlessness and lulled by the soft, rhythmic sound of your pulse, Hari felt that he could, and possibly should, die in that moment, and you were an angel come to take him away.

A bang on the door brought Hari back to life and sent you both scrambling for your clothes.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” You pulled your robe over you, as Hari slipped on his pants.

You hid behind Hari, soft hand clutching his shoulders, and waited for whatever was behind the door. Deep in your heart you already knew. You buried your face into Hari’s back and cried. 

Hearing your soft sobs behind him, Hari felt his heart sinking, knowing already how the night was to play out.

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Chisaki Kai was not a man to be ruled by his emotions. When it comes to you, his sweet daughter, his good girl, he occasionally bent this rule. You were supposed to stay pure and innocent, stay clean, not be tainted by some perverted older man who had committed acts that would have your skin crawling in fear of him.

Kai slammed his glass down, spilling the smooth, honey colored whiskey over the edges and onto the wooden desk, dripping down onto the plush carpet. 

Your smile had grown a little brighter, your face full of life, like a little girl experiencing her first love. Kai had simply assumed it was a fleeting and childish crush on someone from your university, not Hari, a man who had watched you grow up, practically raised you alongside himself.

Everything added up. The glances and sly smiles you exchanged when you thought Kai wasn’t looking. Hari’s newfound eagerness to stay late nights or to act as your personal chauffeur. How could he been so stupid? And how long exactly had it been going on?

Kai knew that Hari was no saint. Having ruthlessly carried out countless inhuman orders of his, Kai did not expect Hari to possess the most accurate moral compass. Kai knew he had not been the present father you deserved, and to Kai, Hari had taken advantage of that. Not only had Hari stooped to new lows of pandering to your daddy issues. Hari had betrayed the man who had given him everything, the man he had sworn allegiance to above all things. All just to get his cock wet.

Kurono Hari was a dead man. 

Kai took in a deep breath before picking up his phone and dialing Hari’s number. 

“Kurono,” he said blankly as soon as the man in question picked up. 

“Yes, sir?”

“I need you to come to my office immediately.”

“Yes, sir. Right away.”

Before Hari could ask for further details, Kai hung up. 

As he waited for Hari to arrive, Kai took the liberty of lighting a cigarette.

Within a few minutes, Kai heard a few gentle knocks on his magnificent oak doors before they freaked open. Hari stepped in.

“Sir?” he asked. “You called for me?”

“Kurono,” Kai said as Hari made his way further into the office. “Do you know why I called you?”

Hari felt like a schoolboy being called into the principal’s office.

“Chrono,” Hari flinched at the use of the nickname Kai had given him in their youth. “You’re my best friend. My only friend.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You wouldn’t do anything to betray me.”

“No, sir.”

“Why are you lying to me, Chrono?”

“Sir, I don’t—“

“How long have you been fucking my daughter, Kurono? And how long did you think it would last?”

Hari froze, his blood chilling with fear.

“Do you understand the danger you could put her in if the wrong person found out she was romantically involved with you?” Kai continued.

Hari had understood you to be invaluable even before due to your position as the sole Chisaki heir. Now, you were important not only to Kai, but to Hari as well. Hari shuttered to think about what could happen if you fell into the hands of an enemy.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill the both of you now.”

“She’s your daughter, sir.”

“That didn’t stop you.”

“Sir, please. I love her.”

“And does she love you?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“I guess we’ll just have to find out.”

Hari swallowed thickly.

“Yes, sir.”

You really were about to be the death of Kurono Hari.

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After a few more loud bangs for theatrics, the library door flew open to reveal your father. Kai stalked towards the two of you, golden eyes on fire.

“You’re a dead man, Kurono,” Kai said, voice devoid of emotion.

Without hesitation, Kai reeled a fist back to slam into the side of Hari’s head. You screamed as Hari stumbled back. 

Kai didn’t relent despite your crying, beating Hari with his fist until the man dropped to his knees. Watery silver eyes looked up to meet crazed golden ones. Hari gasped for breath as Kai landed another blow on him, this time knocking Hari completely over.

Your screams continued as your father continued to beat your lover, blood spilling onto the matching red carpet. Hari had fallen on his side and was coughing more blood as Kai kicked him. A fierce kick to the ribs followed by a sickening crack sent you running to stop your father. 

“Daddy, please,” you sobbed, dropping to your knees and clutching your father’s pants. Your tears caused your mascara to run down your cheeks and drip on the carpet below. “Daddy, please don’t.”

“Don’t you dare call me that!” Kai pushed you away, but you clung tight. “Not after you called this piece of filth by that same dirty name when he’s buried in your whorish cunt. You will address me with the proper respect.”

“Father, please don’t hurt him. I’m begging you.” You tugged at Kai’s leg in a pitiful attempt to keep him from swinging at Hari.

Instead, Kai simply kicked you off of him before pulling Hari up by his hair, the beaten man coughing and spitting blood as he set his half-focused gaze on you. Kai tapped the barrel of the gun against Hari’s temple, blood matting the hair to his skull.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t pull this trigger.” His glowing yellow eyes locked onto your puffy ones, wet with tears.

Hari weakly opened his eyes to see your pained face. To see such an expression on you was enough to kill him. Your makeup running off your cheeks in streams of tears and snot, your mouth hanging open in utter agony. Even if he got to spend the rest of his days with you, he’d never forgive himself for putting you through this.

“Please,” you choked on a sob. “I love him. Please.”

Kai took a deep breath before releasing Hari from his grasp. The broken man fell heavily to the floor and coughed up blood. You ran to catch your lover.

“You are both dead to me,” Kai looked down at the pair of you in disgust. “If I so much as sniff you in my territory, I will not hesitate to kill you. Do you understand?” 

You weakly nodded while clutching Hari’s bruised and bloodied body.

“Good. Now get out, both of you.”

“Father?”

“I said get out!”

“Come on,” you whispered gently to Hari as you wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders to help him off the ground. “Come on, love. Hari. Hari, stand up. Come on. We have to get you to a doctor.”

Weakly, Hari managed to stand up and lean against you, limping out of the library with you. Unknown to you, Hari had snuck the small book he had been reading previous to your little rendezvous into the back of his pants.

Kai had drafted up the death certificates for the both of you immediately after his little meeting with Hari. Though he had originally planned to shoot you both dead, Kai realized that this could be a way to keep you out of this bloody life, of which you had shown no previous interest in. 

Kai had passports ready for the both of you under new names and had even set up bank accounts in another country under these names with enough to keep you comfortable in someplace new.

Prior to sending him off to the library for “late night reading”, Kai had snuck these passports, along with airline tickets to the other side of the world, to Hari.

Officially, Kurono Hari was a dead man.

[httpjeon]

made of stardust: folia — seokjin (m.)

seokjin/reader | alien!au | fluff, smut

wordcount: 9.5k

contents: alien dick!seokjin (he has tentacles), intoxication, kissing under the influence, seokjin rlly cares about consent, squirting, vaginal and anal sex, light size kink, LOTS of kissing, seokjin knows he's good looking

— synopsis: stressed from work, you're sent on vacation to the beautiful, tropical planet of Liana where you meet a beautiful Folian man named Seokjin, who makes your vacation 10x better.

note: the first installment of mosd! ik it's been pretty anticipated; seokjin's version is the least convoluted and messy of the bunch so that's why he's first! taehyung is next!

blog masterlist — made of stardust masterlist

© httpjeon 2019. do not repost, modify, or translate.

With a smile on your face, you inhaled the crisp, sweet scent that carried on the breeze. Adjusting your grip on your suitcase, you gazed out towards where you heard the soothing crashing of waves hitting the shore.

"Miss. ______?" you jumped at the sound of someone saying your name, drawing your attention away from the ocean.

"Um, yes that's me," you smiled, meeting the dazzling smile of a young woman.

"I'm Yura, I'll be your guide," she said, "I'll show you to your hotel."

"That would be lovely," you nodded, following her towards a black vehicle — a craft you had gotten used to seeing already. 

She helped you load your suitcase into the trunk before opening the passenger door to let you in. You relaxed into the plush, red leather seat with a sigh and let your eyes drift towards the window. The sight of beautiful architecture and foliage passed by and you could just feel the built up stress beginning to evaporate.

At first, you hadn't wanted to go on vacation but eventually, you were urged to do so by your supervisors. As part of your job, they figured they could send you to Liana — a beautiful, tropical planet teeming with rain forests and life.

The planet was part of six in a solar system called the Vela System in the Fanet IV galaxy. It was a recently opened galaxy as part of the Interplanetary Relations Commission’s goal of making every galaxy accessible for visitation. Over a millennium ago, the Commission, started on Earth, began to expand from nearby planets to nearby solar systems and eventually nearby galaxies. While there were over 500,000 galaxies currently under the IRC’s treaty, more and more galaxies opened every month. The Fanet IV’s capital planet, Vulia, was the first to allow an IRC Embassy to be built and eventually the Commission’s reach expanded to all the planets. 

Liana was the second, and most eager to open, the race of aliens known as Folia, excited to show their beautiful planet off to anyone. As a result, it quickly became somewhat of a vacation resort.

"You'll be staying in Vano's most prestigious hotel," Yura explained, making you break your gaze from the window to look at her, "You'll have direct access to private springs and you'll be right on the shore of the beach, it's really lovely."

"Wow, I can't wait," you smiled, gazing out the window once again.

It wasn't too long before you were pulling into a parking space outside a gigantic building — taller than anything you'd ever seen on Earth. You gaped at the hotel — the sign written in the native Folian script which you hadn't had the chance to learn yet.

Yura opened the trunk and pulled your suitcase from inside, extending the handle before motioning for you to follow her. You hurried your footsteps, unable to help but gape at the beautiful trees and plants that lined the hotel aesthetically. 

The inside was beautiful, the walls, floor, and ceiling were made of marble-like stone that shimmered underneath the light. There was a young man at the counter, who smiled at the sight of you.

"Welcome! You're Miss. _____, I presume?" he asked, typing something on the hologram computer in front of him, "Your room is 1807 — this card will let you in."

You took the metal card from his hands, a little light blinking green on the end. You thanked him and pocketed it, following Yura towards the elevator.

She pressed several buttons on the wall, foreign words flashing across the touch screen as she tapped away on it with a well manicured finger. In the blink of an eye, the doors were opening to a beautiful hallway decorated with red and black accents. Stepping out, you felt your feet sink into the carpet slightly, making you lose your balance.

"Oh!" Yura gasped and grabbed your arm, giggling softly as you finally caught your balance, "Careful there..."

"Wasn't expecting that," you mumbled, stepping aside to let her roll your suitcase out of the elevator.

"Yeah, most people get surprised," she chuckled, "Typically you'll be barefoot out here, so wearing shoes kind of feels weird on the floor."

"The decorations here are beautiful," you mumbled, passing by a tall obsidian vase with flowers such a vibrant shade of orange that it hurt your eyes to look at.

"Yes, well, this is the most high-end resort on the planet," she said, stopping in front of a door, "You can only expect the best here."

You pulled the key card out and pressed it against the scanner, watching the light flash in a series of yellow blinks before there was a loud click. Yura turned the handle and pushed the door open.

You stepped inside and gasped at what you saw. A beautiful chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow through the room. There were velvet, powder blue curtains drawn over the huge windows. Bypassing the canopy bed, you opened the curtains and smiled.

You were very high up on the 18th floor, allowing you to see the ocean disappear in the horizon. It was beautiful, the sun beginning to set, bathing the world in a brilliant shade of orange.

"Well, Miss. ______," you turned away from the window to see Yura leaning over the desk writing something down on a notepad, "This is my contact information. I am at your disposal, feel free to call if you have any questions or concerns. If you wish to go somewhere, please let me know and I'll be more than happy to show you around."

"Thank you so much, Yura," you smiled, walking her to the door to bid her goodbye.

Once you were alone, you let out a sigh and kicked your shoes off before pulling your socks off. Smiling, you felt your bare feet sink into warm, plush carpeting. The fibers were soft and seemed to swallow your feet.

Flopping back onto the bed, you breathed in the soft, sweet scent that wafted from the bedding. Hugging a pillow to your chest, you rolled over and gazed out the window as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. Your eyes began to feel heavy as you relaxed before you finally fell asleep— tuckered out from the trip from Earth.

You groaned as you stretched, slowly waking up. The first thing you noticed was the fact you'd fallen asleep in jeans — extremely uncomfortable. You sighed and sat up, casting a glance out the window to see the moon was sitting high in the sky.

Getting out of bed, you approached the window. The moon was brighter and closer to the planet than the moon on Earth and even the light from the city couldn't dim its reflection off the dark sea. The stars sparkled vibrantly in the sky and you smiled. Looking down, you could see the tide was hitting the shore more violently than it had been during the day. Backing away, you unzipped your suitcase and began to dig around to fetch some pajamas.

Before the trip, you had gone shopping for new clothes to wear to the alien planet. That included a new, expensive silk pajama set. It felt light and cool against your skin, felt even better as you curled up beneath the thick, soft blanket to properly sleep.

You adjusted the tie of your bathing suit behind your neck, the knot rubbing and irritating your skin. The elevator buzzed before the door opened and you stepped on, shivering as your bare feet hit the cold, tiled floor.

"What the..." you stared at the panel, flashing flights and holographic numbers confusing you. A message in the Folian language scrolled past on the screen and you sighed, deciding to just press the button beneath the "1", hoping it wouldn't take you to a basement.

The door opened immediately and you smiled proudly as you stepped into the lobby. Looking around, you adjusted your bag on your shoulder.

"Are you looking for the entrance to the beach?" you gasped, spinning around to look at the person who startled you. She smiled kindly, wearing a uniform with the name 'Lee' sewn into the fabric, "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” she apologized, bowing her head slightly. 

"Oh it's...fine, yeah um," you cleared your throat, "I'm looking for the beach."

"If you'll go through those double doors, you'll find the access point," she said, motioning to the two glass doors across the lobby, “It's a panel on the wall at the end of the hall.”

"Thank you," you smiled before turning your back to her before making your way over to the doors.

You pushed them open and immediately got a huge whiff of sea salt. Walking down the hallway, your footsteps echoed off the tiled walls as you made your way towards the end. You stopped at the wall, a panel blinking on the wall just like the woman had told you.

It took you a moment to realize that it looked like the panel for your room so your hotel keycard may work. Mentally, you cursed yourself for not learning how to read the language before coming. Pulling the metal card out, you held it up to the panel, watching a pink light flash over it as it was scanned before the card blinked green.

Something let out a loud clunk and you stumbled away as part of the wall moved, indenting inward before beginning to ascend. You squinted as the sunlight blinded you and the sound of waves crashing against the shore and the numerous voices of beach goers met your ears. You stepped through the newly made doorway and jumped when it quickly slammed back down and vanished into a simple wall again.

As soon as your feet hit the sand, you sunk into it. Looking down, you wiggled your toes curiously. 

It was sand unlike anything on Earth. It was purple — a very light shade that it was almost white and instead of being hot like you would expect from being blasted by two suns, it was cool. Crouching down, you grabbed a fistful, watching the tiny grains slip through your fingers back down to the ground.

You stood back up and looked out towards the water, the surface sparkling beneath the sun's rays.

It was a wonder to see two suns in the sky as opposed to the one on Earth. The larger of the two was similar to Earth's but a second, smaller one sat in its shadow a brilliant blood orange color. Your could also see the silhouette of a couple of the other planets as well — Vulia and Argo as the two nearest planets to Liana, you assumed.

The sound of someone scream caught your attention and you turned just in time to watch a man playfully push a woman into the water. You couldn't help but smile as she resurfaced, shouting in a language you didn't recognize.

It was true, what Yura had said; that Liana was an extremely successful vacation hub. You took a seat on the sand, enjoying the cool feel of it beneath you. Closing your eyes, you let the sunlight warm your skin and relax you.

It felt like you were there for hours before finally packing your things up. Your skin was still damp from a quick dip you had taken in the ocean — the water was startlingly warm as you had been expecting the cold shock that always came from the Earth's oceans.

You held the card in your hand as you approached the panel you had used to get out. When you scanned it, you were immediately blasted with the building's AC. It felt nice but a little chilly, causing goosebumps to rise all over your moist skin.

The door shut behind you and you sighed, looking around the tiled hallway. You were pretty tired, energy having been sucked out of you from swimming. 

"Hey..." you noticed there was a glass door hidden away in a corner. There was a sign in the window that you couldn't read and approached it.

Pushing the door open, you stepped onto a warm carpet. There were sweet scents wafting from all around you, aromas that you couldn't help but inhaling more of.

Too busy looking around, you didn't notice a person heading right for you until he ran into you. You stumbled, gasping in surprise at the contact. Before you could fall, a strong hand grabbed your arm and steadied you.

"Whoa," he chuckled, "You good?"

"Ah, yeah sorry..." you bashfully cleared your throat, "Wasn't paying attention—" you stopped when you finally looked up. The man wore a confident smile on his pretty lips. His skin was soft, almost glowing without a single flaw in sight. He had broad shoulders and a sharp jawline, a beautifully proportioned body.

He was absolutely stunning.

"Let me guess...you're a tourist," he raised a perfectly manicured brow at you.

"H-How did you—"

"You all get this dreamy, astounded look on your faces when you see a Folian," he scoffed, folding his arms over his chest, “I'm Seokjin, by the way.”

"______...and um...I've met several Folians...since I've been here..." you mumbled, his voice alone making your eyes flutter.

"Nah," he shook his head, leaning closer, "Vano is actually predominantly IRC territory now, you know where all the embassies and foreign politicians come to stay and whatnot. Folians don't really hang around the resort," he grinned, meeting your gaze, "...you'll know when you see a pure-blooded Folain," he grinned, "Like myself."

"I-If...um..." his smile was so dazzling it left your brain scrambled for a second before you shook your head and continued, "If it's not common then why are you here?"

"Well," he chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, "The springs here are...insane."

"The springs?" you asked.

He nodded, "You haven't heard?"

"I mean...my travel guide told me there are some but..." you shrugged, motioning for him to continue.

"Oh, man," he smiled, "They're amazing — literally the best in the galaxy,” it was clear he was boasting, obviously feeling a strong sense of pride over the claim. 

"Is that so?" you asked, allowing a small smile to come to your own face.

"Yeah," licking his lips, he shoved his hands in his pockets. Inhaling, you caught a whiff of his cologne and it smelled absolutely amazing. His eyes raked over your form and you became acutely aware that you were still wearing your bikini top, "You know, it's better...going with someone."

You crossed your arms over your chest and cocked your head to the side, "Are you asking me to go to the springs with you?"

"Yeah, I," he chuckled, nodding his head, "I guess I am."

"First, tell me what this place is," you said, motioning around the room.

"Oh, it's just a massage parlor," he responded, "People come in for a rubdown after being on the beach so they can go back to their rooms and relax. I got one before you came in."

You hummed, "I'll have to check it out..."

"So...you coming with me?" he asked, already making way for the door.

"Oh, uh yeah," you hurried after him, slipping through the door before it closed behind him.

You followed closely behind him, staring up at the back of his head. It made you realize that he was pretty tall. Too entranced in watching his hair bounce and the confident way he walked, you didn't pay attention to where you were going.

Suddenly, he stopped and you bumped into his back with a grunt.

“Hey…” you mumbled, stepping away to see him looking over his shoulder at you with a smirk on his face.

“Lost in thought?” he teased, raising a brow.

“No,” you lied, making him scoff.

“Sure, anyway, we're here,” he said, pulling a plush green curtain aside to wave you in.

Stepping past, you gasped at what you saw. Walls of shimmering rock closed in the space surrounding the spring. You could see steam rising off the surface of the water and it made your skin grow sticky from the humidity in the air.

“Come on then,” his voice was muffled as he was pulling his shirt over his head.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of his body; he was well built, and his skin was beginning to shine from the humidity. He reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, making you gasp and cover your eyes.

“Hey now,” he chuckled, “I don't know what you expected to see but…” he trailed off and you took your hands off your eyes to see he was already half submerged in the water.

“Y-You can't just do that,” you complained, pulling off the leggings you wore over your bikini bottoms.

“Do what?” he sighed, leaning back against the rocks lining the spring.

“Strip like that, are you even wearing anything?” you asked, finally making your way towards the water.

“Of course I am!” he gasped, “You’re not lucky enough to see me naked.”

“Oh the burden,” you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes as he laughed.

You dipped your toes into the water and hissed at the heat. Your skin quickly adjusted and you were able to comfortably slip into the water and make your way over to where he was sitting.

“Does no one come here?” you asked, referring to how empty it was.

“Eh,” he shrugged, “I guess it's just not a busy time.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence, relaxing and closing your eyes as you let the heat of the spring ease all the tension your body retained. You could literally feel the stress melting off.

The peace was interrupted by boisterous laughter coming from the entrance way. You jumped as a couple of guys wandered in joking and goofing off with one another.

Your eyes were fixated on them — their good looks on par with Seokjin’s. You followed them with your gaze, unable to break away as the men shed their shirts and prepared to enter the spring.

“Hey,” you jumped when you felt Seokjin’s breath against your ear. Glancing at him, you found you were inches away from his face, “I know they're good looking, but you're here with me...shouldn't your attention be on me?”

“U-Um...I’m sorry…” you muttered, heart stuttering in your chest when you noticed how thick and pretty his lips were.

He smiled, “Good girl.”

Despite the fact you were submerged in a hot spring, you felt a shiver go down your spine.

Your trip was cut off shortly after when he let you know that he had somewhere he needed to be. You bid him goodbye and returned to your room, the memory of the beautiful Folian man lingering in your mind as you curled up to sleep that night.

You stepped out into the hallway, your flip flops dangling from your hand as you turned around and checked to make sure your door properly locked. Suddenly, a heavy hand landed on your shoulder and you swallowed down a scream as you spun around to see who it was.

“Seokjin,” you greeted with a smile, quickly relaxing, “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, looking down at his own outfit. He was dressed nicely, black slacks and a white button down that had the sleeves rolled up with the first few buttons undone to expose his chest and collar bones. His hair was combed back to show his forehead and you could only say he looked like a model.

If he were a man on Earth he'd probably be the top male model in the industry with his good looks.

“What're you doing here?” you asked, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

“I'm staying on this floor,” he replied, “Just happened to see you when I was heading to the elevator.”

“Oh, well that’s a coincidence,” you smiled, beginning to turn away to go to the elevator.

“Why're you going to the beach so late, it's starting to get dark?” he asked, halting you.

“The beach is really pretty at night,” you explained, “It's pretty common on Earth so I thought it might be fun here as well.”

“I see,” he hummed and shoved his hands into his pockets. He shifted on his feet almost awkwardly and you took that as your cue to let him escape the conversation.

“Well, I’ll see you later,” you offered him a small wave over your shoulder before you once again turned to make your leave.

"Hey, wait!" he called and you stopped again, turning to see him walking closer to you, "You haven't been here long right?"

"Just a couple days, why?" you asked.

"Well," he cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders, "I was wondering if you had a chance to see...what Liana really has to offer."

"What do you mean?" your question caused a small smirk to appear on his lips and he leaned even closer so that you could see the way the lights reflected off his dark irises.

"I mean, outside of this resort," he said, "There's so much you can see and experience."

"I-Is that so?" you cursed yourself for stuttering but having him so close made you nervous — a fluttering kind of nervous. 

"Yeah," he chuckled and stood up straight once again, "Why don't you get dressed up and come with me?"

He didn't really give you any room to argue, not that you wanted to, so you nodded and pulled your key card out. You could feel his eyes on you as you unlocked your door and slipped inside. Leaning back against it, you let out a sigh and looked around the room.

Scrambling to undress, you ran over to your closet and pulled it open. You mentally thanked your past self for packing a couple of more dressy clothes — just in case, you had told yourself when you hadn't known what to expect from your vacation.

Pulling out the tight black mini-dress you figured would match with Seokjin the best, you hurried to pull it on. Smoothing the fabric down, you ran to the bathroom and flicked the light on. Your makeup bag sat on the counter and you really didn't want to keep him waiting so you opted for simple eye makeup but a bold red lip.

Just as you were spraying some setting spray when there was a soft knock at your door. Sighing, you fluffed your hair a bit before racing to the door to slip your shoes on.

You yanked the door open to see Seokjin leaning against the door jamb, fist raised like he was going to knock again.

"You're so impatient," you complained, turning your back to pull your purse from your abandoned beach bag.

"What can I say?" he stepped back to let you exit the room.

Shutting the door, you let out a sigh, "Let's go then."

"You look..." he let out a low whistle, eyes scanning your entire body, "You look really good...you almost look better than me."

"Oh real flattering," you mumbled sarcastically, smiling when you heard him chuckling behind you.

When you left the hotel building, you followed him to a car garage to a craft that he opened with the press of a button. Climbing in, you looked around at all the buttons as he got on as well. He typed around on a small, holographic screen before the car started.

"Whoa," you whispered as you realized it was completely self driving.

You watched the glitz and glamor of the resort disappear into a dark, desolately populated area. The buildings were run down and there were few lights to be seen until the car pulled down a small side street with several small buildings lit up by neon signs.

The car shut off and he got out, opening the door for you as he waited for you by the sidewalk. Once out of the car, you could hear the deafening bass of music coming from the buildings surrounding you.

"We're going here," he grabbed your wrist, tugging you in the direction of a building lit up with the sign 'The Core' flickering above the blacked out door.

The floor was packed with people dancing and moving to the rhythm of the music. Cigarette smoke burned your eyes and made you cough as you let Seokjin lead you through the crowd. Reaching the end of dancefloor, he pulled you in the direction of another doorway obscured by a black curtain.

As soon as you stepped inside, you were knocked breathless in shock at what you saw. Inside there were dozens of lounge chairs and couches filled with people. Women sat on men's laps on the lounge chairs while men laid above women on the couches — all of them with wandering hands and lips locked in heated kisses.

Your mouth was dry at the shameless displays of intimacy, all of them practically having sex right there in the open. Seokjin didn't even cast a fleeting glance towards the people, instead tugging you in the direction of the empty bar counter.

Once seated, you were able to see another doorway beyond the wall with lights flashing from within. You leaned back a bit to see a woman pressed against the wall, arms wrapped around another woman's neck as they kissed. Blushing, you avert your gaze and glanced down at the shiny bar countertop. 

"You got anything like this on Earth?" he asked, talking a bit louder to be heard over the muffled music coming from the other room.

"Um..." you clear your throat and shake your head, "I mean...we have nightclubs but...no one does..." you motioned towards the people and he chuckled.

"Well," he shrugged and raised his hand to wave the bartender over, "Get me some Red."

"Sure thing," the bartender nodded and turned his back to prepare the drink.

You watched his hands move to dispense some red liquid into a glass cup adorned with gold and jewel accents. He placed it in front of you both and dipped two metal straws into it.

"What's this?" you asked as he motioned for you to take a sip.

"It's a drink," he smiled, resting his cheek on his hand against the bar counter.

"Obviously," you muttered, eyeing the drink with a frown, "You drink first."

"A bit suspicious aren't you?" he chuckled to aimed the straw towards his mouth and took a couple sips, "See? I wouldn't poison you or anything."

"Is it alcoholic?" you asked, pulling the glass closer to you.

"Not in the way it is on Earth," he replied, "Though the effects vary for humans. It gives Folians a buzz and feelings of euphoria...but sometimes it doesn't even do anything for humans..."

You hummed and took the straw into your mouth and sucked. It was cold on your tongue, holding a sweet almost tangy taste you simply couldn't identify. Swallowing it down, you licked your lips to chase the remnants.

"What is it?" you asked when you finally pulled away.

"Blood," he replied, taking his straw to have another taste.

You blinked, brain slow to comprehend what he had said, "Come again?" your jaw fell open as you squinted at him.

"It's Folian blood," he said.

"You...you drink your own blood?" you asked.

He nodded, mixing it a bit with his straw, "It's a delicacy, as you tasted it's really tasty and like I said before...it causes a state of euphoria...why wouldn't we drink it?"

"Well..." you frowned and thought about his words, "I mean human blood tastes terrible so...I guess it's just a weird concept to me..."

"We're not the only ones who drink it," he explained, "It's manufactured and sold to all planets of the Vela System. It's a pretty good source of income for the planets economy."

You hummed and decided to take another sip. Once again the sweet, tangy flavor melted on your tongue and you sighed — it really did taste good. There was nothing on Earth you could even compare it to.

The two of you shared the drink until it was empty and he pushed the glass away. You felt so much more relaxed while he wore an almost dreamy smile on his face.

"So...what's up with all this?" you motioned to the dozens of people who were still latched onto one another without a care in the world.

"Hm? It's just...I dunno, you don't have sex on Earth?" you choked at the question and waved your hands quickly.

"N-No...I mean yes we do but..." you felt your cheeks heat up as you spoke, "It's sort of something more private, on Earth you'd be arrested for this."

"What? Why?" his brows were furrowed in confusion.

"Well...It's not something that's...meant to be seen by all, you know?" he shook his head and you sighed, "It's sort of an intimate act, I guess? I mean people have casual sex but it's not something that people want to share with the world...it's just private for us."

"I see..." he hummed and spun on the stool to face the people, leaning back against the counter with his elbows supporting him, "Here it's sort of hierarchical."

"What do you mean?" you asked, following his lead to turn towards the couches.

"Well, here sex is pretty important for us," he said, "It's sort of a social ranking. Really successful people who are deemed to contribute more to society are permitted to have multiple spouses. Instead of it being illegal to actually have sex in public here, it's illegal to take more partners than your social rank permits — depending on how many more you take the punishment varies."

"Whoa..." you whispered, "It's sort of an egotistical thing to have multiple partners on Earth— like a guy with the most scores has bragging rights."

"That's interesting," he hummed, "We've got egotistical assholes as well but..."

"How many are you permitted?" you asked suddenly, making him look at you in surprise.

Even you were shocked at your own question. It wasn't like you at all. Though, with every moment that passed you began to feel more of the effects of the drink. You felt so light and happy, completely worry free. It seemed like there were no consequences to anything you did or said, giving you a green light to ask him whatever you wanted with confidence.

He chuckled, "You're really feeling it aren't you?"

"Don't ignore my question," you mumbled, narrowing your eyes in what was probably a very non-threatening glare.

"Well," he slid off the stool and held his hand out to you, "I'm permitted a few."

"How many is a few?" you asked, taking his hand to let him help you down.

As soon as you were on your feet, you felt everything move beneath you and suddenly you found yourself crushed against Seokjin's chest.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice sounding a little distorted in your hazy mind.

"I...I guess," you giggled, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you as he began to carefully lead you to the exit of the club.

The entire car ride was a blur. You remember holding onto his hand and him allowing you to, keeping his eyes on you the whole ride. His gaze made your heart race more than the drink had and you felt goosebumps rising upon your skin.

No one spared you a glance as he helped you to the elevator to the floor you both shared.

"Where's your keycard?" he asked, chuckling as you leaned against the wall with a grin on your face.

"'N my bag..." you replied, letting him zip it open.

It took him a second to find it, accidentally grabbing your wallet first before finally pulling the card out from where it was buried on the bottom. His hand rested on the small of your back as you leaned into him, hugging his arm to you. The door clicked as it unlocked and he used his free hand to push it open.

Immediately, you kicked your heels off and signed in relief. You heard the door click shut behind you and turned to see him leaning against it with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

Once again, that feeling of confidence washed over you and you sauntered up to him. You felt him stiffen when you pressed yourself against him. His hands hovered in the air for a second before settling on your waist to pull you closer. Moving up on your tiptoes, you pressed your lips to his and he let out a stuttering sigh. His grip on you tightened just a bit as he kissed back, your lips moving flawlessly together.

Before you could lose your confidence, you reached up to undo a couple buttons of his shirt. He hummed against your lips, deepening the kiss before you broke away with a smile.

Biting your lip, you pulled his shirt up to untuck it from his pants, "You really are...so good looking."

"You're not so bad yourself, sweetheart," he muttered, his voice surprisingly deep. When you began to pull at the buckle of his belt, he suddenly grabbed your wrists.

"Wh-What's wrong?" you asked with a pout, biting your lip when you noticed how long and pretty his fingers were.

"I...would love to fuck you right now, seriously, I'm painfully hard right now," he whispered, making you giggle, "But you're not clear right now...and I don't want to take advantage, alright?"

"But..." he stopped you with a swift kiss to your lips.

"Get ready for bed, alright? I'll keep an eye on you for the night," he said, watching you pout as you collected your pajamas from the bed where you had left them earlier that day.

"Why?" you asked, making your way towards the bathroom.

"Because I've never heard of a human getting so messed up by Red before," his voice was muffled when you shut the door to the bathroom.

After taking off your makeup and getting changed, you wandered out of the bathroom to find Jin wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants while laying on your bed. His face was buried in a pillow but he looked up when you came out.

"Where'd you get those?" you mumbled, motioning to his attire.

"Went to my room," he replied with a brow raised, "I'm down the hall, remember?"

"Oh...right," he chuckled at the spacey look on your face before you climbed onto the bed.

It was strangely comfortable, though it was probably the drink, to sleep beside him. His hand rested on your waist as he kept his eyes on you until your breathing evened out and you fell asleep.

You were woken up by the soft sound of cursing and when you opened your eyes you saw Seokjin messing with a cart of food. He was crouched down, trying to pull the tablecloth from where it was stuck under the wheel.

"What're you doing?" you asked, voice rough from sleep.

"Huh? Oh! You're awake!" he smiled, stood up, "I got some room service, I was hungry and I figured you would be too."

"I actually am," you smiled, pushing the blankets off to climb out of bed.

"Help me with this," he mumbled, motioning to the cart, "It's stuck."

"I'll pull the cart while you get the cloth free," you said, waiting for him to kneel down and nod before executing the plan.

He gave a small 'ah-ha' of victory when it pulled free before standing up.

"Cute pajamas by the way," he said, pushing the cart over to the little table across the room.

"I..." you looked down at your matching pink pajama set and blushed, "Don't tease me."

"I'm not!" he laughed, setting the plates down on the table before motioning for you to sit.

"By the way..." you picked at your plate with a fork, "I'm sorry for last night."

"What do you mean?" he asked, taking a bite of food.

"For, you know...kissing you like that," you mumbled.

He chuckled, "I didn't mind one bit."

The tone of his voice had your cheeks heating up. Meeting his gaze, you found the almost cocky smirk on his lips and the dark glaze in his eyes. Squeezing your thighs together under the table, you remembered how it felt for him to hold you against him, how strong his grip was and how soft his lips were.

"Well...st-still..." you cleared your throat and took a bite from your fork.

"So I was thinking," he held the smirk on his lips, giving you a knowing look as he changed the subject, "We could go down to the beach since I sort of stopped you last night."

"Oh...you want to?" you asked. He nodded and you smiled, "Great! We'll get ready after this."

When you both finished eating, you excitedly got changed into your swimsuit while he went to his room to do the same. Slipping on some shorts, you opened the door to find Seokjin making his way down the hall.

He was shirtless, simply opting to wear his swim trunks with a towel thrown over his shoulder.

"Let's go then!" he smiled, taking your hand to tug you in the direction of the elevator.

It was cute, how excited he seemed, "What's got you so excited? You live here."

"Well, I've never been to the beach with a human before," he said, stepping out of the elevator, tugging you with him.

You squinted against the sudden burst of sunlight, the strange sensation of the cool sand on your feet. You noticed he was going in a different direction than the shore and asked him, "Where are we going?"

"There's a cool little cove around here," he said, "It's pretty quiet, not many people hang around it."

"Oh cool," you whispered, having to fasten your steps to keep up with his larger strides.

Finally, it came into view, large boulders and rocks with water harshly sloshing against them. He climbed up first, getting a steady stance on the rock before pulling you up. You laughed when he slipped a bit against the slickness and let out a small shriek of surprise.

You took a seat, dipping your feet in the water with a sigh. He followed your lead, leaning back on his hands with his head tilted back. Looking down, you gasped at all the colorful fish you could see swimming beneath the surface.

"Whoa, they're so bright!" you muttered, gaining Seokjin's attention.

"You don't have fish on Earth?" he asked with a raised brow.

"Of course we go but these are like neon!" you said, watching the way they circled on another, "I always imagine alien planets having terrifying wildlife."

"Ah, no there aren't too many dangerous creatures here," he said, "But Argo on the other hand, place is practically deadly."

"Ah, I've heard of Argo," you muttered in wonder before fixing him with a curious gaze, "Your galaxy is pretty new so I've only heard some stuff...rumors and the like, you know.”

"What do you do for a living on Earth?" he asked.

"I actually work for the Interplanetary Relations Commission," you said.

"But you don't know much about the planets?" he cocked his head to the side.

"No, unfortunately my job is more financial instead of scientific. I don't deal with the other planets or anything like that," you explained, "I just basically make sure the IRC doesn't like...you know...go bankrupt."

"I see," he chuckled, "Well, I think it's pretty cute how excited you got over fish."

"I...c'mon," you muttered, embarrassed by the compliment, "Do you know if it's possible to do like a sea dive or something?"

"Yeah, I think so," he said, "I can help you set something up tomorrow if you'd like?"

"Really? You'll do it with me?" you grinned and he nodded, "I'm so excited!"

You felt his eyes on you and turned to look at him, finding him smiling at you. He reached forward when he realized he had your attention. His hand was warm as he cupped your cheek, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours.

He smirked when he felt your breath stutter a bit in anticipation. Before he fully kissed you, however, he backed off and slid off the rock into the water with a splash.

"Hey!" you pouted, "That's not very nice."

"Who said I'm a nice guy?" he laughed, splashing water at you, making you gasp in surprise. Before you could recover, you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and tug you in. You cried out as your head dipped under the water.

Resurfacing, you went to yell at Seokjin only to find him swimming away in laughter.

You spent the entire day with him at the beach until the moon was rising into the sky. Wrapping a towel around your shoulders, you began to walk with him back to the hotel. You could hear the laughter of people nearby as they ran around on the beach and couldn't help but smile.

"What's up?" he asked, finally reaching the elevator.

"Nothing, it's just..." you leaned back against the wall, meeting his soft gaze, "I was sent here on vacation and I sure as hell didn't expect to be spending it with you."

The door opened and you stepped out, Seokjin following behind you. Fishing your card out, you approached your door.

"Is that a bad thing?" he asked, making you pause to turn around.

You smiled and shook your head, "No, actually you've really made it a lot better."

"Yeah?" he stepped so close that you could smell the sea salt clinging to his skin as he looked at you through damp bangs, "I can make it...even better, you know?"

"Can you?" your voice lowered and he smirked, leaning close so his nose brushed yours.

"Oh yeah," his lips met yours and you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you sighed into the kiss as you felt him wrap a strong arm around your waist. His lips were soft and warm, with just a hint of chapstick he had applied lingering on them. 

You gasped when he suddenly lifted you up, taking a few quick strides before depositing you on the bed. You smiled as he crawled on top of you, resting his weight on his elbows on either side of your head so he could kiss you once more.

His hands carefully slid up your stomach, making goosebumps rise along you skin. You sighed, lashes fluttering when he cupped your breast in his hand. Pulling away, he met your gaze as he pushed the band up until both of your breasts came into view. 

Thumb circling your nipple, he licked his lips at the soft whimper you let out. You reached up and cupped his jaw, pulling him down for another kiss. 

Giving the bud a soft pinch, he chuckled when you gasped into his mouth. He broke the kiss to leave small pecks down your jaw and chest until he could envelop your nipple in his mouth.

The way your back arched in response had him groaning. Cupping your other breast, he rolled the bud between two fingers until he felt your hands wrapping in his hair. 

He chuckled and began to leave kisses down your stomach until he reached the band of your shorts. Casting a glance up at you, he found you staring down at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. 

Before he could do anything, you hooked your thumbs into the hem of your shorts and began to push them down. He helped, pulling them from your legs as you pulled your bikini top off so you were completely bare before him. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, sitting back on his heels to get a good view of your body. Gripping your knees, he carefully spread your legs apart until your wet folds were fully in view. He licked his lips and reached forward, running his fingertips over your slit to collect the wetness there before bringing them to his mouth. His eyes fluttered at your taste on his tongue and when he licked his fingers clean, he knew he needed to taste more.

“Jin—” you gasped when he dove down to find your pussy with his tongue. 

Sliding his tongue between your folds, he groaned at your sweet taste. He laid on his stomach, wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold your open for him. Finding your clit, he took the bud into his mouth and relished in the moan you let out. Gripping at his hair, you ground your hips down to meet his sinful tongue. 

You grew wetter by the second, he could feel the way you were dripping. His ego swelled, knowing he was able to turn you into such a mess. He pulled back for a breath, licking his lips and looking up at your disheveled state. 

Your hair was wild and splayed over the pillows. Your lips were red and swollen from how you were biting them in your pleasure. His eyes followed the movement of your hands as you cupped your own breasts to pinch and tug at your nipples. 

“Please,” you whispered, arching you'd hips upwards. 

He smirked, knowing exactly what you were begging for. Not wanting to leave you yearning, he spread tour folds with his thumbs until he could see your entrance clenching in anticipation. Meeting your clit once more, he flattened his tongue as he gave it a slow, long lick. 

You cursed, tossing your head back into the pillow. It had been a while since you got laid, work having taken over your life. With Seokjin’s talented tongue working your cunt like it was his job, however, you realized just how much you'd missed it. 

Your walls were beginning to spasm and tighten. Clutching his hair tighter, your body became tense with the oncoming orgasm. He groaned, taking your clit into his mouth once again. 

Within seconds, you came. Your thighs trembled in his hold and he could feel your bud pulse in time with your high. The moans and whimpers of his name you let loose made him acutely aware of just how hard he had become. 

You finally began to push him away as the stimulation inched into overstimulation. He pulled away, sitting up as his chest moved with his heavy breathing. Licking his lips, he collected whatever juices he had missed on his thumb to lick clean as well. 

“You're...really good…” you mumbled, still catching your breath from the incredible orgasm he had given you. 

He chuckled, “Thanks, I try my best.”

His response had you laughing and you sat up, wrapping your arm around his neck to pull him in for another kiss. Kissing him was phenomenal, he knew just how to move his lips and when to use his tongue. You could taste your own juices and you eagerly caught every lingering taste. 

As you reached for his swim trunks, ready to push them down, he stopped you. You stopped and looked up at him curiously.

“Hang on…” he cleared his throat and took your wrist in his hand, pulling our fingers from the hem of them.

“What is it?” you asked, worried you had done something wrong.

“It's just…” he sighed, “My...anatomy is different from a human man’s.”

“How do you know what a human man looks like?” you asked with a brow raised. 

He chuckled, “I've heard stories and seen things from visitors.” 

“I see...well…” you used your free hand to run down the smooth plane of his chest, “Different how?”

His smile faded a bit as he reached down to tug the hem of his swim trunks down. Your mouth fell open a bit as his member came into view. 

It was an angry red, clearly throbbing with his arousal. There was one main appendage with four smaller ones surrounding it. He wrapped his fist around himself and sighed in relief. 

You reached out and let your fingers graze one of the smaller ones. He hissed and you gasped when it twitched, almost wiggling, away from your touch. 

“Whoa…” you mumbled, knocking his hand away to grip the main one like he had. 

It was warm, pulsing with his heartbeat. It was slick, allowing you to easily stroke him until his head fell back in a moan. 

“P-Pretty different, huh?” he choked out, ears turning red the longer you stared at him. 

“Very…” you whispered, “Almost like...tentacles…”

“I-I guess,” he grunted, eyes fluttering as you felt his cock leak even more, “Shit, d-do you still want to…?”

He trailed off and you paused, staring at your hand wrapped around him. Although it was something you never dreamt of seeing or touching, you felt yourself clench at the thought of having him inside you.

“Yeah…” you whispered, smiling when you saw him sign in relief. 

“Good because if you said no, I would be going back to my room with the worst case of blue balls in my life,” he said and you giggled as you laid back, admiring his pretty smile as he grinned at your laughter.

Releasing your grip on his cock, you glanced at your hand. His precum lingered on your skin and you curiously brought one finger to your lips. You felt his eyes burning into you as you took your digit into your mouth.

Your eyes widened at the taste. It was sweet — indescribably so, almost like sugar. He wore a small smile, as if he understood your thinking. He didn't say anything, however, simply shifted on his knees and spread your legs apart once again. 

You were still dripping and he could see your hole clenching pathetically around nothing — begging to be filled. He was more than willing to do just that. 

“Flip over,” he said, holding onto your hips as you clumsily rolled over, “Hands and knees,” you did as he asked, perching your ass high in the air, “Good girl…”

You kernel under the praise and he could see you clench, making him chuckle. Rising on his knees, your breathing stuttered as you felt the almost silky texture of his cock prodding your entrance. 

Despite the extra tentacles, his cock was pretty similar to a humans. The head of him was the thickest part as he began to push in. Burying your face in the pillow, you let out a groan when you felt your walls beginning to stretch open to fit him. 

He panted, running his hand soothingly along your spine. You were clenching so tight, cunt struggling to accommodate the fat head of his cock. Both of you groaned in unison when it finally popped on, the rest of his length easily sliding in until you were completely filled.

He sat still, feeling you spasm and drip around his cock until you let out a whine, “Please move, Jin.”

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Alright, sweetheart.”

Your breathing stuttered as he pulled out, the shape of his cock allowing him to drag over your sweet spot in a way no human could. Your eyes rolled back and your thighs trembled at the feeling, making Jin’s cock throb against your walls. 

“Oh god…” you whimpered, biting down on the pillow when he sunk back into you. 

He chuckled above you, holding onto your hips for leverage so he could hammer into you. He let out another curse, head falling back when he felt the tip of his cock hit your cervix, making you clamp even harder around him. 

“You feel so good,” he growled, “So tight.”

“Y-You’re gonna m-make me cu...cum,” you sobbed, clutching the pillow until the material groaned in protest, “Already…”

He scoffed, “‘Cause my cock is better than anyone's, huh?” you didn't respond, too lost in the painful heat that came whenever he bottomed out in you, “Tell me,” he snapped.

“Y-Yes, so...so fuckin—” your praise was cut off when you felt something touch your clit. 

Glancing between your legs, you felt tears sting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure as the tentacle on the underside of his cock met your clit. It moved as if it had a mind of its own, your own juices mixed with his allowed for it to swirl effortlessly around the bud. 

Your high was coming faster than you could have ever expected. You knew it was going to be strong and part of you thought it could almost make you black out. Watching the tentacle move, you let out a low whine when the tip of it slipped beneath the hood of your clit to find the bare, vulnerable bud directly. 

It was the final blow and before you could voice it out, you were cumming. Seokjin groaned as you trembled and moaned beneath him, a gush of juices almost forcing his cock from your cunt. 

The bedding grew wet but he didn't stop fucking into you, even as you sobbed into the pillow. 

“Such a messy girl,” he growled, cupping your ass cheeks to spread them apart, “Never would have guessed you'd be such a slut.”

The name made you groan and twitch around him, making him chuckle. The way he was reducing you to nothing but a spasming, drooling mess was incredible. Never before had anyone reacted so strongly to him — maybe he should fuck humans more often, he mused.

You were lost in space, your mind unable to think of the world beyond the fat cock stuffing you full. You were sure nothing would feel better than this but the feeling of another one of his tentacles had you second guessing. 

“Can I fuck you here too?” Jin asked, voice low and rough as the tentacle prodded at your ass. 

“I-I…” you whimpered and nodded.

“Use your words,” he snapped, slapping your ass harshly, leaving a burning sting in the impacts wake.

“Yes please!” you choked out, the words almost impossible to get out.

“Good girl,” he praised, making you whimper.

Holding your breath, you gasped as you felt the tentacle carefully begin to slide into the right hole. The lubrication on it allowed for an extremely easy entrance — it wasn't too big so there was minimal burning from the stretch. It was still there but it quickly dissipated, making you sigh.

The tentacle moved in time to his pounding hips, reaching deeper inside with every inward thrust. The sound of skin slapping together filled the space mixed with your moans and his groans. 

Already sensitive from two prior orgasms, the added tentacle along with the one still playing with your clit, leaving you a drooling mess. 

Seokjin was nearing his own end, grip on your hips tightening as his thrusts started to become sloppy, “Cum for me...c’mon…” he whispered, encouraging you over that edge.

As soon as you hit your high, the first spasm of your calls around him sent him over as well. His chest met your back as he groaned, his cum filling you. 

There was so much, more than you could have expected. It overflowed, being forced out of your clenching cunt as he continued to rut into you to ride the high. Dripping down your thighs, it added to the mess you had made earlier. 

You could even feel the tentacle stretching ass open throb in time to every pulse of cum. Slowly, you slumped down as your orgasm faded. 

He pulled his cock from your cunt, groaning as he watched the rest of his cum spill from your stretched hole. The tentacles pulled free as well and you collapsed on your side with a sigh. 

Your thighs were sore from being in the same position for so long but otherwise you felt euphoric. Seokjin followed your lead and laid beside you, chest heaving as he caught his breath. 

“Well…” you sighed, making him look at you. His cheeks were flushed and his bangs stuck to his forehead from sweat, “You certainly did make it better…”

He laughed, “Oh yeah? How has it been so far as a vacation?”

“A few more days of this and I'm pretty sure I’ll be stress free for the rest of my life,” rolling over, you met his lips for another kiss as laughed softly. 

You let yourself relax against him, relishing in the soft caresses and pecks he left along your skin. Part of your heart aches as you remembered that after your vacation, you wouldn't be able to see him again. 

Disregarding the feeling, you turned your attention back to the beautiful man in front of you who was more than willing to make sure this vacation would be one that you remember for the rest of your life. 

[venusandromedadjarin]

Darling

Alive, part two

18+, soft!Poe if you squint, drinking, fluff, dom!Poe, smut... a whole lot of smut, light bondage, edging, begging... Poe is just a hot husband and his wife pissed him off so now it’s payback time, 3.5k words

The cantina erupts in shouts and whoops the minute the two of you step inside, Poe's hand wrapped tightly around yours as he flashes his dazzling smile. You feel the heaviness in your chest lighten marginally as you see everyone you took off with from the base this morning, all of them smiling at the two of you. General Organa’s words echo in your mind, no one was lost today. She was right, and you hadn’t even let that sink in until now. No one’s picture was added to the wall today, and you glance at it, the heaviness lightening a bit more when you see the number of frames hasn’t changed. Poe squeezes your hand, and you glance up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. 

Red-Ten’s voice booms over the room as he lifts a bottle above the crowd, “To the Damerons!” 

You can feel Poe’s chuckle as his shoulder’s shake with it, his hand tightening as he surges forward. People clap their hands to your backs, throwing out compliments about your flying and his leadership. When you see Red-Six, you break away from him to hug her tightly. She returns the hug, nodding as you thank her for saving your life today.

“Just doing my job, Sergeant.”

You slap her shoulder, “Don’t Sergeant me, Numa. We’re drinking tonight, come on.” You clamber up on a stool, stepping onto the bar and reach a hand down to her. Taking it, she follows you, throwing her head back to laugh, her Lekku swaying with the movement. Poe’s eyes find yours from below, and they shimmer in the low light as he watches you live. Something he hasn’t seen in a long time, and it suddenly strikes him, too, that everyone came back today. 

General Organa strolls into the room and crosses her arms when she sees the two of you on the bar, both of you stilling as the bar grows quiet, waiting for her to say something. She slowly shakes her head, a grin spreading on her face as she comes through the crowd and announces, “Orson, first round is on me. The squadron deserves it. Congratulations on a successful day.” 

The whooping that breaks out is so loud it drowns out her words as she slaps Poe on the back, Finn laughing beside him at whatever she says. You see her nod towards you before quietly exiting as the shots begin to be passed around. Two of Orson’s six large, green hands reach up to give you and Numa the small glasses, filled with clear alcohol. Once everyone has one, you wink towards her and lift yours up, “To the Rebel Scum!” 

No one misses a beat as they echo you, laughter ringing out once everyone has downed the liquid. It burns down your throat and you grimace, swiping your lips with the back of your hand. 

The evening goes on like that more or less, rounds of shots being passed out as you all eat at varying times before drinking some more. While Poe and Finn wager against some other people in a game of Sabacc, you bid Numa to cover for you as you slip out of the cantina. Technically, going outside at night is frowned upon, but you risk it and slide out the vented doors into the cool air. The base keeps the doors slatted open to improve air circulation and temperature at night, since D’Qar cools down significantly when the sun drops. The air is a welcome presence after being inside the humid bar. For a few minutes, you just stand outside the doors and look up, staring at the planets you can see in the sky. Finally, you push yourself forward towards the field that the base uses as a tarmac. The sight of your X-Wing makes you groan as you walk towards it, the sticky fire retardant still sliding down the sides of it. With hesitation, you decide to climb up the ladder, shuddering when you see the inside is full of the light colored goo. Hopping down, you walk around the ship and survey the damage. The entire left engine is gone, having blown up and all, and the left wings are severely damaged. Luckily the body and right side is mostly intact, though the canopy is cracked. It would take weeks for you to fix it, maybe less if Poe helped, which you’re sure he would. Sighing, you walk over to Poe’s X-Wing to asses his damage. It’s definitely less severe, but the right side is charred and cracked, the wings bent enough that they don’t match up properly. At the very least, it’d be easier to fix than yours. 

You climb the ladder to his cockpit before sliding down into his pilot’s chair, the canopy open so you can sit back and look at the sky. It smells like him: leather and oak mixed with a slight hint of gasoline. It’s a scent you would never grow tired of having in your senses. Looking around his cockpit, you notice a fading picture tucked under the edge of one of the control panels. You gently pull it out of the metal it’s wedged under and study it in the dim light. Smiling, you realize it’s the picture Rey took of you and Poe the day you got married. On the back, it has your’s, Rey’s and Finn's initials signed on it. You wipe a tear from your cheek, realizing how fiercely you miss your best friend, before tucking it back into its spot. 

“You’re always right here with me,” Poe’s voice makes you jump, your hand flying to your mouth as you yelp.

“Maker, you scared me,” your eyes close as you try to calm your heart beat. He just chuckles and smooths your wavy hair down, his hand gentle on the crown of your head. “What are you doing out here?”

He looks down at you, humor dancing in his dark eyes, “I’m checking on you. What are you doing out there?”

You smile and point upwards, the stars lighting up his features as he looks up. You’re struck by how handsome he is, especially with the grey hair starting to streak his dark curls. The scruffy beard he’s growing makes him look older, but in the best way possible, and his smile makes your smile grow. 

“I don’t know why General Organa ever doubted your ability to be a pilot when you first joined the Resistance, you always have belonged among the stars,” he whispers, still looking up. 

You duck out from under his hand and grasp it with your own, bringing his wrist to your lips. He lets out a low sound when you kiss the sensitive skin, your tongue darting out to taste him. “If I remember correctly, you also doubted me,” you whisper against his wrist.

Poe chuckles and looks down at you, “I never doubted you, darling. I had never met anyone as bright as you and I was terrified of how quickly this lifestyle can dim that light.”

You catch his eyes, gazing at him through your lashes, your breathing hitched. Even after being with him this long, it takes you by surprise when he speaks about you like this. You and Poe never had the luxury of a slow and sweet romance. It was frantic and intense because of the Resistance, the constant fight, the constant fear of everything good coming to an end. When you both realized you felt the same way, that was the end of it, nothing was the same. It was quick and fiery, at risk of ending before it ever got the chance to start. But at times like this, after a successful fight, after the hope of the Resistance being rekindled, you are reminded of the reason you fell for him in the first place. He’s fierce, stubborn, and rough around the edges sometimes because of his cocky nature… but underneath all of that, Poe Dameron is a romantic, kind man who had to become tough in the face of adversity. This is a man who wore his mother’s wedding ring on a chain, waiting until he could give it to his life long partner. Somehow, the Maker allowed it to be you. 

“I love you,” you whisper up to him, scared of breaking the silence too harshly by speaking. He grasps your hand in his and pulls you up gently, kissing you gently before climbing down the ladder and looking back at you.

“Let’s go home,” he smiles up at you and you nod, scrambling out of the cock pit and down to him so you can take his hand again. “I love you, too.” You squeeze his hand as the two of you begin the short walk back to the main building. 

The sweet talking is forgotten the moment the lock bolts your bedroom door closed, one of Poe’s hands palming at the key pad to dim the lights while the other is cupping the column of your throat as he kisses you. You only see two other people on the walk back, by some mercy everyone is either still getting drunk or in bed, which meant the two of you are finally, finally, alone. A soft whine escapes your lips when Poe’s other hand meets your hip, his fingers digging into you as if he’s afraid he’ll float away if he doesn’t hold on for dear life. You shudder at the thought of finding your husbands fingertips bruised into your skin in the morning. He slowly pushes you back towards the bed, his tongue dipping into your mouth to twist with your own. As the back of your thighs hit the mattress, he pulls back just enough to mumble against your lips, “You drove me insane today, woman.”

Biting his bottom lip, you tug slightly before smiling against his mouth, “What are you going to do about that?” 

You bite back a groan as his large hands slides under your leather jacket, slowly pushing it off your shoulders and down your arms. His mouth works on your neck the whole time, hot and heavy against your skin as he nips and licks you. You sigh when he removes himself from you completely, blinking up at him as you watch him walk over to the desk and open the bottom drawer. Poe pulls out a belt and turns toward you, gazing at you with his brown eyes as he folds the leather into makeshift cuffs. Your pulse jumps as you watch him, heat pooling between your legs, and you fight to not press your thighs together. His voice is low when he breaks the heavy silence, rasping against his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “Lay down.”

Crawling up on the bed, you follow his instructions, waiting for him to tell you what to do next. Instead, he comes over and grasps your wrists, pulling them above your head and positioning your hands in between the headboard slats. He slides the cuffs on you, pulling on the belt to tighten it before checking to see if it’s too much. You nod up at him, and he checks the headboard, making sure it won’t move too much and hurt you. Poe steps back, watching you as your breathing picks up just by being restrained. The way he’s looking at you is almost feral, his eyes darkening as his pupils dilate… and neither of you are even undressed yet. You’re vaguely aware that he can probably see your nipples hardening under your thin t-shirt as he moves to the end of the bad, slowly untying your boots and pulling them off, followed by your socks. His large hands grasp your ankles, pulling you towards him and making your arms strain against the bindings. The tension makes you worry at your bottom lip, the heat in your core intensifying. He slowly slides his hands up your legs, the callouses on his palms catching on the heavy fabric. By the time he actually reaches your waistband you’re trying not to roll your hips, searching for some sort of relief to the dull ache spreading through your body. His thick fingers quickly undo the buttons before dipping below the waist band, pausing as he looks up at you and you crane your neck, and then he’s pulling. Ripping the fabric down his legs like it might burn you if he doesn’t get it them off quick enough. He nearly chokes when he sees the lacy black underwear you’re wearing, licking his lips before he’s tearing those off you too. You lift your hips to make it easier and you shudder when the cool air hits your clit, the wetness on your thighs and pussy becoming shockingly cold, making the ache in your core even more intense. And Poe… Poe just watches as you squirm, your forearms straining as you pull at the belt. 

Finally, he starts undressing. His boots clunk as he kicks them off, his leather jacket makes a soft thud as it lands next to them. His shirt is haphazardly tossed across the room by one hand as he unbuttons his pants with the other. He strips his socks and briefs next, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You’re a wreck and he hasn’t even touched you yet. 

Finally, he’s back on the bed, kneeling between your thighs as he parts them roughly, his hands gripping your knees and pushing them apart. Your chest is heaving at this point, the fabric of your shirt sending bolts of heat down your spine as your nipples rub against it. Poe leans over you, his cock dragging across your stomach and your back arches off the bad, chasing the feeling of his tip and the pre-cum that’s glistening on it. He just smirks down at you before gently pushing your shirt up, his fingertips barely brushing your skin as he bunches the fabric until it’s halfway over your head and covering your eyes. The more you squirm, the more your arms pull at the shirt and the more it darkens your vision. You huff in frustration and he tsks, “You’ve been walking around the base all afternoon with your tits on display underneath that thin fabric?” You smile, your top teeth dragging over your lower lip as you bite it, and he groans, a low rumbling sound that is heavenly and turns you on even more. 

Then you’re yelping as he tugs at your nipple with his teeth before moving on to suck a hickey into the meat of your breast. He repeats it on the other side, your back arching as you try to chase the pleasure it brings. You feel him lay down between your legs, kissing down your stomach before nipping at your hips. He hooks your knees over his shoulders and then he stills. He just lays there, his lips pursed as he blows on your clit and makes you shudder, his hands digging into your hips and holding you down so you can’t lift your them to meat his mouth. 

You’re breathless as you beg, the words coming out in between your groans because the waiting is just too much. “P-poe, please. Pl-lease do someth-thing.”

That’s all it takes.

He licks you, moaning as he drags the muscles through your folds and tastes you like he’s never tasted anything sweeter. His tongue dips in and out of you, circling your hole and making you squirm. Then he flicks it out against your clit. And you pull so hard at the belt you think you might pull a muscle in your arm, but his hands never leave your hips and you can’t chase his mouth for more of that beautiful feeling. All at once he’s sucking, sending shivers through your body as your thighs tense up and you do your best not to squeeze his head. You’re so close, teetering on that edge, the pressure coiling in your abdomen, pulling taught and tight and ready to snap-

Then he stops.

You think you must yell, or at least throw a curse word out at him, or something.

Before you can even stay mad that he brought you to the edge and refused you, his finger is inside of you and your hips come of the bed, pushing it in deeper. He curls it against the spot that makes you see fucking stars, and then he’s fucking you with it before adding a second. Curling and thrusting and sending you towards that edge again. 

Right as you start to tremble, a soft whine escaping your parted lips, he stops again, your walls fluttering around his fingers, searching for the slightest movement to send you careening off that edge. You feel tears prick at your eyes, the coiling pleasure in your abdomen raging so hot that you think you might actually cry. 

But instead of tears, you cry out as Poe simultaneously adds a third finger and sucks on your clit. Your walls clamp down around his fingers as he fucks you through it. Your eyes flutter closed underneath the blindfold, and you’re sure they roll back, as your hips jolt off the bed, chasing his mouth and that hot tongue that sends electric shocks down your spine and through your limbs. You’re trembling, definitely squeezing him in between your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to care as the coiling, tight rubber band of pleasure snaps so hard that it feels white hot. 

When you finally come down, he’s still drinking you up, lazily licking you and moaning into your folds. When he stops, he leans his head against the apex of your thigh, his facial hair tickling the already sensitive skin, as he watches his fingers slide in and out of you, shimmering with your juices. Even though you can’t see him now, you’re well aware of his fascination because he’s done this before. You gasp when he finally drags his fingers out of you fully and crawls over you, leaning down to kiss you as he pushes the t-shirt all the way up to your wrists. His tongue dips into your mouth, both of you moaning as you taste yourself on him. When he breaks away from you, you look up at him with big eyes, “Let me touch you.”

He smirks, kissing you once more before moving back between your legs and positioning his dripping cock so that the tip rubs your clit. “No,” Poe watches you as he slides his dick against your clit, making you pull at the belt and throw your head back, biting back a moan. Then he’s moving again, positioning himself before sheathing his cock in you with on thrust, his hips snapping against yours. You cry out, the pain and pleasure mixing low in your torso and coiling into the start of another orgasm. You wrap your legs around him, hooking your ankles behind his back and he palms your knees, spreading you and using your legs as support as he pounds into you. The way his hips dig into you with every thrust has you seeing stars already and you can tell by his furrowed brow and heavy breathing that he won’t last long but he reaches down to thumb at your clit anyways, pushing you towards your release again. “Cum for me.”

And you do. It overtakes you before you even have the chance to fight it, coursing through you and firing every synapse in your body at once, it overwhelms you so much that you barely make a sound as you squeeze his cock. Your eyes close and you pull at the bindings, your wrists aching under the pressure and all the while, he fucks you through it, his pace never faltering as he continues to hit that spot inside you that makes you feel like you might be on fire in the best way possible. 

He doesn’t cum until you start to come down, your walls finally letting up just enough for him to tense inside you and paint them with himself. He collapses against you, shuddering as he nips at your nipples, low groans bubbling from his throat as he finishes pumping himself into you. He shakily reaches up to loosen the belt as he pants against your chest and you immediately pull your hands out to reach for him. You rub your hands through his hair, trace your fingertips up and down the curve of his spine, knead his shoulder muscles… you do all of it, just reveling in the afterglow of orgasms and in the fact you can touch him now.

Poe finally turns his head so his cheek rests against your sternum, whispering against your skin, “Don’t get tired on me yet, darling. I’m not done with you.”

[clarkesrifle]

Title: The Forgotten Day Pairing: Levi Ackerman x nb!reader Warnings: None, no spoilers Genre: Fluff Word Count: 2.2k Summary: The Survey Corps had no time to remember birthdays -- it was a miracle that anyone knew each other’s name, really. Imagine your surprise when you found a crudely-wrapped item with your name on it on your forgotten day. Ko-Fi | Requests! Notes: Unedited, written when I was lonely.

The Survey Corps had a high turnover rate, as was natural with the profession. How many had died since its establishment? Were any of them remembered, or was all that was left of them was a tiny inscription within the seemingly endless book of those that died in the service to humanity?

Birthdays were unimportant. For some, remembering that comrades were human beings with families, lives, and histories made their duty too difficult. It was decidedly easier to ignore those things. Comrades, at the end of the day, were a means to an end. A partnership doomed to fail. It was easier to forget about them when you didn’t know their important days.

It was hard for you to grasp at the beginning of your tenure. Despite your family’s economic status within the walls and regardless of your experiences with your birthdays, you found it difficult to trust the people around you when you knew so little about them.

Where are you from? Have you seen a titan before? Why did you enlist? Have you killed one before?

Sometimes, it was difficult to discern whether your friendships were born out of genuine care for each other or rather the respect that was necessary to function together as a unit.

Captain Levi had intrigued you from the start -- so many rumors about him lingered throughout the walls. He was a bonafide celebrity and a mysterious one at that. How many families told stories of him? How many children’s nightmares were soothed by the mere mention of his name?

You remembered the first time that you had ever seen him -- the Scouts marched through the quad on horseback, passing through Shiganshina’s marketplace. You crawled on top of the fruit stand’s fabric canopy, feeling it dip underneath your weight. You were so small then, it feels like.

Levi walked his horse into the quad, directly behind Commander Erwin. How could so much strength and resolve lie within such a small body? He didn’t strike you as overtly handsome at first glance. No, your appreciation for his appearance grew slowly over your years wearing your wings.

Admittedly, the years that you did remember your birthday were lamentable. Days off within the corps were few and far between, and when your birthday didn't matter, you couldn’t exactly do anything for it.

Your body felt as though it was about to explode; training only grew more intense the longer that you were enlisted. You supposed this burning pain was worth it -- the Scouts couldn’t risk any more people than necessary, and the best way to prevent deaths was extreme preparedness.

Your squad leader, the infamous Levi, pushed you harder each day. Keeping your cool, both physically and mentally, was difficult whenever he was around. Impressive was the least you could say about your captain.

He seemed peaceful whenever he trained, as though he were relaxing lakeside -- you allowed yourself a quick moment to picture Levi lakeside -- without a care in the world or a titan to slay. It was mesmerizing to watch him use the ODM gear; it was as though he were performing a beautiful and intricate dance.

Much to your chagrin, he ordered you to clean the muck from the stables and care for the hooves of the horses following training, a task that would surely take you hours. Levi, in all of his mysteriousness, was particularly anal about cleanliness.

Being alone with your thoughts was particularly distressing on your birthday. You couldn’t help but wonder about the people you’ve lost -- how many birthdays had they lived? How many more would there have been? Why were you given the privilege to live when they were gone?

For some faces that lived behind your eyes, you regretted not knowing them more. You noticed with anguish that many of those faces lost their sharpness in your memory, the years replacing their features with blurs and blobs.

The moon was rising by the time that you finished your appointed task. Your lower back throbbed, your calves screamed as you climbed the stairs towards your lodging.

Your room was perfectly modest -- only a bed, a dresser, and a desk were provided to you. The pillow was flat; you were not the first nor the last to use it. The blankets were made of a course and itchy material but did its job well enough.

Blinking, you noticed a horribly wrapped item sitting upon your bed. It seemed to be covered with the same paper the captains write correspondence with, tied with twine. Written on it was your name in nearly illegible chicken-scratch, but still, it was your name.

“Um,” you mumbled under your breath. Sitting before the present, you undid the complicated knot with your calloused fingers. Inside lay a book; it was leather-bound, old, possibly expensive. The inside of the wrapping paper had a small note written on it, which read: It's your birthday. Congrats on not getting munched on for another year.

You gasped quietly. It was your first birthday present in years, possibly ever. After the initial shock had worn off, you hungrily opened the book, skimming through pages after pages of incredible drawings, information about a world you'd probably never see.

You flipped back to the beginning, noticing that whoever gave you this gift had left a small note just under the first chapter heading: I keep hearing about the world outside of the walls. Thought you might be interested.

Closing the cover, you held the book tightly to your chest. Thank you, you thought to yourself.

Hearing Armin speak of the sea intrigued Levi. Throughout his life, he had never allowed himself to think of the world beyond the walls. By the time he went on his first expedition outside of them, he could only think about titans.

He had first noticed you upon your entrance to the corps. Erwin had given a rousing yet truthful speech, as he did at every graduation. Levi stood offside the stage, taking in the group of cadets that had stayed.

The Captain had long become used to seeing the fearful faces, the determined faces, the strong, the angry ones. Yours, however, intrigued him.

You looked resigned.

You looked incredibly aware of the sacrifices you would have to make, the people that you would lose. You looked so painfully aware of the trials and tribulations to come. It seemed as though you were the only cadet that understood the reality of being a Scout.

So he pushed you. He knew deep down that he pushed you harder than the others. Levi had even requested you to be apart of his squad. Erwin had looked at him with curiosity at that, only Levi, who could read the man better than anyone else, could see it.

It had been Erwin who had first noticed your feelings for your squad leader. You had been subtle, truthfully, and only a man as detail-oriented as the Commander could see.

He had noticed it after you delivered tea to his chambers, where he, Levi, and Hange were having a meeting to discuss the budget for the next quarter. You had lingered a mere millisecond when you handed Levi his cup, skin grazing against each other so gently. Levi had been surprised at just how much he felt at that slight touch, how much heat erupted on his hands.

You did not stay long after that, wishing Hange a goodnight with a gentle squeeze to her elbow -- Levi was unaware of the friendship that you two had.

Levi glanced at his Commander, who smiled over his teacup, looking pointedly at him. "What?" Levi asked. Erwin shook his head, a low chuckle coming from him. "What?" Levi asked again, impatiently.

"Nothing," Erwin replied, a soft smile gracing his features. "Just don't let yourself get too distracted, Captain."

He refused to elaborate.

Hange was the next to notice. You volunteered your extra time, particularly on your loneliest days, to help her with various experiments. Most of the time, you were on standby, looking out for Erwin. It was very clear to you that these experiments were largely unapproved.

Levi visited Hange's laboratory one day, a ration bar in his pocket. You may not have noticed him slip the bar into your bag's pocket, but Hange surely did.

It had taken plenty of prodding on the scientist's part to get Levi to admit a certain level of care and affection for you. You had been hurt slightly during an expedition. It was nothing serious, and yet the Captain insisted that you stay behind on the following day's adventure. You had fought tooth and nail to convince him otherwise, which landed you a day's worth of paperwork for insubordination. He strategically picked the following day, forcing you to miss the mission to finish the massive pile of work that was needed in a short amount of time.

"Y/N'd just be dead weight," Levi grumbled to Hange after she had cornered him. "I'm not going to babysit someone just because they got hurt and were too stubborn to heal."

Hange scoffed at her shorter friend. "It was only a twisted ankle, y/n was cleared for the mission immediately."

"I'm not going to risk another brat being killed because of a stupid, unhealed injury. That's final." Levi looked below them, taking in the four-meter titan underneath them. Easy.

He triggered his ODM gear, rearing his arms backward and slicing forward at the beast's neck, grinning as the nape fell off of it towards the ground. The titan fell, mouth agape, onto its side. Landing onto a tree limb, he scoured the forest floor for more.

Hange was not far behind. She landed beside him, intent on harassing him until she was satisfied with his answer. He rolled his eyes. Maybe it would have been less of a hassle to keep Y/N in the game. Babysitting didn't seem as awful as being stalked.

He hadn't meant to overhear Armin one night, but the conversation intrigued him. The sea. A forest that not even with fifty gas reserves could he traverse. Small pieces of white, cold fluff falling from the sky like a gentle rain.

A strange warmth built in his chest -- he could picture it all easily, but he couldn't picture any piece of the world without you being there with him. Levi wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He had crashed into an abandoned home after slaying a titan. He needed a moment to refill his gas tanks, and he needed a place under cover to do so.

Levi had landed in a library. Books covered most of the floor, the walls, the tables throughout the room. Besides the dust, the new debris, and the vines growing into the building, it seemed as though life had been suddenly paused and could start again at any moment. Strangely, he felt like he was intruding on something.

He found himself drawn to a book, hidden at the back of a shelf. The books that had once been in front of it had been thrown to the ground in the mad dash to escape the titan-infested city.

The spine of the leather-bound book had a portrait of a snow-capped mountain imprinted into the material. A mountain. He hadn't heard of one before he had overheard Armin that one night.

It had been covered, hidden.

Illegal, he realized. Interest built in his chest, he grabbed the book and flipped through it quickly, looking at the intricate drawings. He thought of you.

Slipping it into his waistband, Levi left the library through the way that he came.

Shamelessly, Levi dug into the records in Erwin's office long after the Commander had retired to bed. Y/N L/N, he read, yanking the file out of the cabinet and searching.

Six months away.

He made a note of it before slipping the file back into the cabinet and pretended he never did anything at all.

In the days leading up to your birthday, he found himself busier than he had expected. He had hoped to wrap the book days in advance, but life never turned out how he wanted or expected. He waited until after training and bought himself time by asking you to clean the stables and care for the horses.

You were just as fastidious as he was when it came to keeping things clean, something he was impressed by and thankful for at this moment.

He hadn't the time to go into town to buy proper wrapping, so he improvised.

Being a soldier was about improvising a bad situation into something better.

Something better was wrapping the book in stationary. "It looks like shit," he mumbled to himself. He attempted to save it by tying it with twine, but he looked out of his bedroom window and saw that you were already heading back towards the barracks.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he thought to himself. Undignified, he ran up the stairs towards your bedroom -- which he knew was yours based on how pristine it was -- and dropped the book onto your bed without much thought.

The next day, he watched with a rare smile as you read in the mess hall. Happy birthday, brat, he thought to himself. He took a sip of his tea, savoring it.

He wasn't sure if the warmth in his chest was from your appreciation of the gift or the heat of his drink.

[hellowkatey]

Febuwhump Day 1

Prompt: Mind Control @febuwhump

read on ao3

A Magnet for Trouble

"This," Anakin kicks at a ball of dust, causing the particles to go flying everywhere. "blows,"

His Master coughs, and Anakin looks up to see he has kicked the dust directly into the face of Obi-Wan. He supposes he earned the disapproving scowl this time.

"Not every mission is going to be exciting, Padawan. Sometimes we receive tasks that are a little more on the mundane side."

Anakin examines his Master's face as he continues to brush dust out of his bearded face. Though he has the typical Obi-Wan Kenobi stoicism, Anakin has known him long enough to see that he too isn't exactly pleased about their task.

Some random Outer Rim planet claimed to have found some ancient Jedi artifact, so the council sent them to go fetch it. Literally, anyone could have done this, but they decided to send a Jedi knight? Master Nu would probably love this kind of thing, but Master Obi-Wan wouldn't let him suggest that to Master Windu.

So now they're searching through this dusty old house that smells like bantha poodoo and mildew because the local officials were too afraid to touch it. Apparently even too scared to get close enough to the artifact to get a decent holo. From the dark image, it looked like a deactivated Holocron, so Anakin isn't sure what all the fuss it about.

"Why would the Jedi leave something valuable in this kind of place?" he asks, crinkling his nose at a pile of something in the corner that seems to be a source of the horrible smell.

"This house is old, Anakin. I suspect long ago it was quite elegant and beautiful. During the Great Peace, Jedi Masters often opted to retire in their home worlds or places they liked. It is entirely possible this was the residence of a Jedi Master."

"I thought Jedi didn't like material things, though. This place is huge!" They'd spent the last hour or two making their way carefully through the three-story winding home.

Obi-Wan chuckles. "We are taught not to keep material things, but that does not mean some Jedi don't like them anyway. I'm sure you and that desk of projects you have can relate."

"Those are practical, Master."

"A bolt slingshot is practical?"

Anakin looks away from the wry gaze of his Master. He may or may not have broken a mug or two with that slingshot, but it was a prototype.

They go into the next room. It's the largest bedroom by far, with a canopied bed and large heavy furniture in various places. White sheets haphazardly cover the tables and paintings.

"Surprise, surprise. Another dusty bedroom." Anakin sighs, tugging down one of the sheets to look at the painting. In the dark, it is difficult to see, but he can tell it's a portrait of a woman.

"This is the main bedroom. Perhaps our artifact is somewhere in here."

"You'd think they'd tell us where they found it."

"I suspect they forgot which room it was."

Understandable, I suppose. There are literally over twenty different bedrooms that all look similar. While Master Obi-Wan looks through the drawers of the bedroom, Anakin continues to take interest in the painting. He pulls his lightsaber out, igniting it to get a better source of light.

"What are you doing?" Obi-Wan asks, his back still turned to him.

"Need more light." He waves the lightsaber close enough to the painting to see the face of the woman. Intense golden eyes stare back at him, almost like they are locking him into a gaze. He is entranced by her dark shiny curls that cascade down her shoulders and seem to fade into the elegant dark robes she is wearing. His eyes settle at the necklace that hangs from her neck, its dark metal forming a teardrop shape with a red gem in the center.

The woman is beautiful. Scarily beautiful. Were her eyes brown she might look a little bit like Padmé, or at least how Anakin remembers her. It's been nearly eight years since he's seen her, and he misses her sweet smile dearly.

"Anakin, what have I told you about gawking?" Obi-Wan teases, tugging at his padawan braid as he passes.

"I'm not-- oh nevermind," he groans, pulling his braid back in front of his shoulder.

"I'll check the closet, keep looking here."

"Yes, Master." He lowers his saber, about to turn it off when something catches his eye. The glow of his saber shows a space at the base of the wall. Anakin crouches down, placing his hand at the baseboard, and indeed feels a bit of a draft coming from underneath.

Interesting. He puts his saber away and stands, running his hands along the sides of the painting. To his excitement, he finds a seam in the wall, hidden well by the frame. He grins and reaches out with the Force. If this is the home of a Jedi, they undoubtedly would have a secret door that is Force activated! Maybe I can figure out how to put this in my room...

The section of the wall shutters and then slides backward, revealing a darkened room.

"Oh wizard," Anakin mutters to himself, pulling his saber out. He is about to walk into the room when he turns, looking to see if Obi-Wan is anywhere near. He probably should tell his master what he found, but maybe checking it out first would be a good idea. He would hate to take him away from his search for a dead-end...

He will call for him if he finds something. If this is where the artifact is, then he can say he found it all by himself!

Anakin steps into the room, using his lightsaber to light his path. It is larger than he expected, just a desk in the far corner and a bookshelf that is now empty and covered in cobwebs. He walks right up to the desk, giddiness running through him as he spots a cube in the center of the table. He picks it up, turning it around in his hands to examine it.

The holo they gave was dark, but this seems to be the artifact! It is a dark metalloid material with markings that do look like a Holocron, but it doesn't glow blue as the ones he has seen. In fact... it doesn't seem to be a Holocron at all. If it is a Jedi thing, maybe it too responds to the Force? He closes his eyes, trying to get some sort of signature from the object, but it is like it is just out of reach for him.

Strange. He decides to show Obi-Wan and walks out of the secret room. In the light of the main room, now Anakin can see there is a latch. Oh duh, it's a box!

"Hey Master, come look at this," he calls, as he undoes the latch.

"One moment, Anakin."

With the latch open, Anakin tugs at both ends, and the cube opens at the center, sending something from within rattling out and onto the floor under the bed. He cringes, hoping he didn't break whatever it is. He crouches down, feeling around the dusty floor until his hands lie on something cool and metalloid. He draws it out, his eyes widening when he realizes it's a necklace.

The necklace from the portrait. Its teardrop design is smooth in his hand as he examines it. Somehow, as old as it must be, it isn't tarnished.

Skywalker.

He looks over his shoulder, but there is no one there. Anakin could have sworn he heard his...

Skywalker, come to me.

He looks the other way. The voice is quiet, indistinguishable of gender though it is definitely speaking basic. When it whispers his name once more he looks down at the necklace, suddenly realizing that the voice is not coming from around him, but from it.

He flips it over, revealing the beautiful red stone. It shimmers as though it is its own light source, entrancing Anakin in its kaleidoscope of colors. He runs his thumb from the side of the necklace to the stone to feel the smooth-looking gem.

The moment he touches it, he is struck with an icy chill that runs from his fingertips down to his toes. Terror fills the Jedi Padawan, and he staggers backward, his mind telling him to drop it but his body not listening. He clenches the necklace in his freezing hands, and the world around him tunnels.

Obi-Wan is going to be so mad at me...

And then there is only darkness.

_______

A clatter and a thump resonate from the other room. Obi-Wan sighs. What has he done this time? He found nothing in the closet so he heads back to see what his padawan has gotten into this time. While he had hoped Anakin would outgrow his propensity to attract trouble, it seems the sixteen-year-old is still well endowed in finding mayhem.

"Anakin, if you managed to break something--" he trails off as a chill runs up his spine. A warning in the Force. Obi-Wan puts a hand on his lightsaber and reaches out through their bond.

On the other end, he feels nothing but static.

"Anakin!" he calls, now running into the bedroom. He skids to a stop at the sight of one of the walls caved in, an open box lying on the floor, and Anakin's body slumped to the side. Though he still senses danger, he doesn't see anything that could be causing it. He drops to his knees beside his padawan, rolling him so his head lies atop Obi-Wan's legs. He lays a hand on Anakin's cheek and pulls away in horror at how cold he is. "Anakin, wake up!" he orders, shaking him firmly.

Obi-Wan gets a sudden feeling like he's been here before. For a split second, his teenage padawan becomes his graying Master lying motionless in his arms on Naboo. Panic grips him, and he grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. As quickly as he sees it, it is gone.

Freezing fingers enclose around his wrist and Obi-Wan's eyes snap open to see Anakin staring back at him, but there is something off about him. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he has time to process what is happening his body is being flung across the room with tremendous force. His back slams into the wall and he sags to the ground, vision spotting with black dots.

Anakin stands now with his lightsaber in hand, and Obi-Wan realizes what is wrong with his padawan is that his bright blue eyes now shine a dusty gold.

"Padawan," Obi-Wan says carefully as he pulls himself to his feet. He doesn't dare reach for his own lightsaber. "What happened?"

"I am no padawan," he says back, his ashen face devoid of any emotion. Though it is Anakin's voice it isn't Anakin. Obi-Wan has never heard him speak in such an inflection.

"Then do tell me who I am speaking to."

"Anakin Skywalker."

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "I'm afraid not."

"I am Anakin Skywalker, and you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, will die by my hand."

Anakin raises his saber, not in his usual starting position but in Form II-- Count Dooku's preferred form for its elegance and dueling superiority. Anakin has never once taken interest in the fluidity and discipline it takes to learn Makashi.

Obi-Wan still doesn't grab for his own weapon. Anakin lets out a guttural yelp and darts forward, jabbing his lightsaber aggressively. Obi-Wan twists out of the way much to the displeasure of whatever is controlling Anakin.

"Draw your weapon, coward," he hisses.

"What have you done to him?"

Anakin's face twists into a sinister smile that Obi-Wan has a feeling will likely give him nightmares in the weeks to come. "He is my vessel. A strong one, at that, for an apprentice. I have inserted my Life Force into him, and now we are one."

The boy lunges at him again, and Obi-Wan is able to evade him once again, but this time his shoulder is grazed by the tip of the lightsaber. He bites his lip at the red-hot pain igniting his upper body but swallows it back.

"So what is the plan then? What is your purpose?"

"Does there need be a purpose besides the chance to walk the galaxy once again?"

He stares at the boy, recognizing the tell-tale shadowing of him about to strike once again. If whatever is occupying his padawan is telling the truth, then Obi-Wan knows what he must do. He finally draws his lightsaber grimly, raising it above his head parallel to the floor in the opening move of Soresu. He points in Anakin's direction.

"You will not take over the soul of a boy for your selfish purposes," he says, and then Anakin's saber is crashing against his.

Obi-Wan has sparred with Anakin so many times throughout their training. The boy is a natural with a lightsaber, and one of the best padawan fighters among his age mates. He is quick and decisive, pouring every ounce of his endless supply of energy into each brutal strike. Even with another controlling his mind, his body still moves like Anakin. Thankfully, this is a feat Obi-Wan can easily accomplish. He blocks every strike, knowing exactly what he is planning before Anakin even knows it. Every one of his jabs is met with Obi-Wan's lightsaber waiting patiently for him to catch up. With every crackle of their blades striking another, he can see the fire in Anakin's eyes grow. His golden eyes are not unlike the piercing yellow of Darth Maul, filled with hatred and anger.

Through his anger and fatigue and many minutes of combat, Anakin becomes more and more sloppy. Obi-Wan takes this opportunity to lash out with a rapid kick to the center of his chest. He goes staggering backward in surprise, and Obi-Wan is quick to sweep his legs and cause him to go tumbling to the ground.

"I see you are not used to the awkward body of a teenager," Obi-Wan says, kicking the lightsaber out of Anakin's hand and using the Force to pin him to the ground. He thrashes against the hold, but Obi-Wan is tapping deep into his Force abilities to hold him still. He can already feel the tremendous headache blossoming in his temples.

"You know you will have to kill him to stop me," The thing says lowly. "There is no other way."

"No," Obi-Wan shakes his head. "There is always another way."

"The boy is kin to the darkness. It wraps around him and he accepts it with open arms," he grins. "Anakin Skywalker is a natural in the dark side, and so you must kill him to free him."

Obi-Wan kneels down beside the restrained boy, placing a hand on his forehead despite his attempts to pull away. He looks Anakin-who-is-not-really-Anakin in the eyes, reaching out once again through their bond.

Anakin. He calls against the distant sliver of his padawan's Force presence. Come back to me, my padawan. You are stronger than it is. Fight against it. Take hold of the light.

A girthy cackle. "You think the boy can fight me? A Master of the ancient Sith arts?"

Obi-Wan smiles. Through their bond, he hears the quiet voice of his padawan. Distant, but determined.

"And you think you can silence my padawan? I assure you, I have tried. Many times."

The darkness that taints the Force suddenly begins to flicker, and the Sith's prideful face flickers with sudden worry. "This is-- this is impossible," it says.

Master! Obi-Wan hears Anakin saying with great distress, and he lays his hands on either of his cheeks.

Anakin I am here! I am with you, keep trying! Obi-Wan is growing wearier and wearier by the moment trying to keep Anakin still.

"I will not be bested!" the Sith grunts and Obi-Wan is thrown back. He manages to stay on his feet, but his hold finally slips. The bedroom erupts in a whirlwind of raw power. Loose objects and a cloud of dust fly around at terminal velocity. Obi-Wan squints through the dust storm and sees Anakin now on his feet, his saber back in his hand and ignited in front of him. His eyes stare wildly at the blade as he rotates it in his hand before looking back up at Obi-Wan with a sinister look. "Not by you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and certainly not by a padawan."

Obi-Wan's eyes widen, "No!" he yells, lunging forward as Anakin's wrist turns to point the tip of his blade toward his own heart. Naboo flashes before him once again, and Obi-Wan is filled with a burst of energy from the Force.

He will not watch the Sith take another from him.

Obi-Wan flips through the air and manages to jam his blade between Anakin and his own lightsaber, deflecting it away from his chest and smashing his wrist in the wall. Anakin's cry of pain rings out as his shoulder dislocates from the force Obi-Wan uses. It makes him feel like his heart is tearing in two, but a dislocated shoulder is worlds better than a lightsaber through the heart. Anakin's lightsaber drops and Obi-Wan summons it to his hand with the Force. Now he is restrained once again, this time physically rather than through the Force. He can feel the heave of his padawan's chest, and the feral thrashing of his body.

Obi-Wan blankets himself with the Force, allowing it to take control of his strength. He reaches through their bond once more, pushing past the barriers the Sith had placed. To his relief, he finds Anakin's Force presence shining brightly, just lost.

I am here, padawan. Come back to me.

__________

Anakin opens his eyes and immediately closes them. His head hurts.

As his grogginess begins to clear, a few questions prod at him. Why does my head hurt? Why am I on the floor? Where is Obi-Wan?

An exacerbated exhale beside him makes him realize maybe the answer to his last question is easily answered. Anakin rolls to his side, squinting through the pounding headache at his temples. Obi-Wan lies on his back next to him, head flopped to the side so Anakin can clearly see his face. Shock pangs through him and he ignores the pain and makes himself sit up.

Bad idea. His shoulder now erupts in shooting pain, and he looks down to see it is not in the correct position. He blinks back some tears that have formed and tries to focus on his master.

Blood drips down from Obi-Wan's nose, coloring the mustache of his beard a dark crimson. He spots a char mark across his left shoulder-- from a lightsaber?-- and dark circles so dark they look like two black eyes..

"Master!" Anakin yells, grabbing him by the lapels of his robes.

He doesn't remember what happened. How they ended up unconscious in the bedroom-- which looks war-torn with kicked up dust and broken objects. A glint of metalloid catches his eye and he picks up his own lightsaber that lies in Obi-Wan's other hand. His stomach drops. What could make Obi-Wan need to dual-wield? He isn't sure he's ever actually seen Obi-Wan fight with two sabers.

Anakin reaches out through their training bond, and his master winces in his sleep. He immediately withdraws, eyes wide. Their bond is strained. Obi-Wan's shields are simultaneously locked tight and clearly on the brink of collapse. Force exhaustion.

His master isn't the only one suffering from it, either. Anakin slumps himself forward to lay on Obi-Wan's chest, careful of his dislocated shoulder. He matches his master's even breaths to calm himself down and ease his own pain. He is nearly falling asleep when he feels movement below him and fingers carefully rifle through his hair.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says stiffly. "Why are you on top of me?"

He perks up, turning around with glee at the sound of his Master's voice.

"Have a nice nap, Master?" he says, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Obi-Wan slowly pushes himself to a sitting position. He leans his head back against the wall. "Oh, a lovely one," he says dryly. Then his expression shifts to worry. "What do you remember, Anakin?"

Question of the year. "I remember finding the secret room. And opening a box that had a necklace in it. And then... I woke up here."

"Nothing else?"

He takes a slow, deep breath. "I kind of remember hearing you telling me to come back, or something," his eyes flicker up to meet Master Obi-Wan's. "Did I pass out? Were we attacked?"

The Jedi Knight stares at him for a long moment-- so long it begins to feel uncomfortable. Anakin can tell he is not saying something important, or at least debating whether or not to actually say it.

"It seems your snooping got you into trouble again, my padawan. That necklace... held the Force presence of an ancient Sith who managed to... control you for a small while. I suspect the request was forged to lure Jedi here."

Anakin blinks with confusion. He looks at the lightsaber mark on Obi-Wan's shoulder and the pieces start to fall together.

"We fought... I did this... and I hurt you," he says, shame filling him.

"To be fair," Obi-Wan shrugs. "I accidentally injured your shoulder so don't feel bad about something you didn't consciously do."

Still, Anakin bows his head and stares at the floor. He messed up and got them both hurt in the process. Probably lost the artifact as well. When will I stop being such a screw-up?

A finger taps at his chin, and Anakin looks up to see Obi-Wan looking at him with a comforting gaze. There is no anger or disappointment in his face or the Force that flows between them. "This was not your fault, Anakin. In fact, you did amazingly. You were the one who stopped the Sith, forced it from your body and sent it back into the Force where it cannot hurt anyone anymore. You were brave and strong and didn't give up."

Anakin smiles, the negative feelings melting away easily now. Obi-Wan slowly pulls himself to his feet and reaches his hand out to help Anakin up as well.

"Come, padawan. I've had quite enough of this mission."

They begin to stagger toward the door. Anakin looks over at the painting and feels his heart skip a beat. The woman is gone now, leaving only the simple background on the canvas. In the back of his mind, he can hear her now. Feel the darkness surround you, Skywalker. Embrace it. Use it. Fuel your power and extinguish the light.

But more clearly, he can hear Obi-Wan. You are stronger than it is. Fight against it. Take hold of the light.

Their commands echo through his mind, the Sith one becoming quieter and quieter until it is gone completely. Relief finally washes through him as the darkness fades away.

They walk back through the dusty halls, slowly and leaning on one another. Anakin remembers their conversation as they walked these corridors earlier and smiles.

"I suppose this wasn't a boring mission after all,"

Obi-Wan sighs. "I should really stop wishing for mundane missions. There seems to be no such thing. We could be farming and you would find a way to attract trouble."

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Day 10: “How’s the weather down there, babe?”

Masterlist

Three things: 1, this is set in the Empires on the Horizon universe, however you do not need to read or be caught up with that fic to understand what’s going on here. 2, i got so excited writing this i forgot all about the prompt and then had to go back and figure it out. 3, this is so horrifically sweet please be aware you might need to go to the dentist for cavities after this. I lied there’s four things; if you want full vibes while reading this listen to “Winter” by Tori Amos (chosen by my darling child, @little-league-coach-mako​)

non-canon complaint, Empires on the Horizon AU

Annabeth Chase had been wanting to go to the lake cabins for over a year but between her and her boyfriend’s busy schedules and the continuously unfolding happenings of their friends’ lives it seemed almost impossible. But finally, three weeks till the end of December her and Leo are packing up their car and grabbing snacks for the break to the cabins.

It will be a well deserved, much-needed rest.

“You ready, my love?”

She looks around their room, as meticulous and pristine as they made it each morning. The white sheets tucked tightly into the bed, and the maroon throw angled over one corner so that the two sides hanging over the bed were exact in length. Their blinds had been drawn shut, but winter sunlight still leaked through their large windows, causing the white-oak floors to soften into magnolia.

“I’m ready,” She turns around with a gentle smile on her face, hands reaching for him.

He pulls her in for a hug, surrounding her with the warmth that always seems to radiate from him, no matter the temperature. His curls tickle her cheeks and she can smell the cinnamon and wood that seemed to be his cologne.

“You okay?” There is concern lacing his voice like wax; it makes her choke on emotions she didn’t even know she was holding down.

“I love you.”

Leo pulls back, worry in those beautiful brown eyes, “I love you.” He strokes her back gently, “Do you want to stay home?”

“No!” She bursts, “Gods no. I’m just tired and i can’t wait to walk into our little bubble and never leave.”

He simply hugs her tighter and she feels every wonderful feeling soar between their bodies.

Soon enough they’re in the car and on their way, with nothing but open roads and bare trees in their vision. The road trip is short, three hours at most, and Annabeth is content to listen to her boyfriend’s soft jazz and stare out the window, bundled in blankets and pillows, and snacks. Leo keeps a hand on her thigh for most of the drive, a comfortable weight and a reassurance that he is here, that he isn’t leaving. By the time they get there it is raining hard, battering the roof of the car like drums. It soothes her soul. 

They rush into the cabin in a blur of bags and slicking mud, laughing as the onslaught drenches them. Their curls become coiled and springy, losing all the effort they had put in before leaving. But they’re inside and it is warm and the clouds opening above them are a comfort that carries their feet to safety.

“I love it here.” Annabeth sighs, looking around. There’s a small table in one corner, and a large fireplace running through the middle of the space, separating the dining room from the lounge. The couch looks inviting, stacked with copious pillows and the fluffiest blanket she has ever seen. The kitchen is... quaint. All the necessary appliances are there but it doesn’t make the area look any less like an 18th century cottage.

Her boyfriend steps out of the room, where he had gone to put their bags away, and wraps his arms around her waist as they take in their home for the week. It is dark outside but the moon is high, casting a white glow between the clouds that gives the whole world a haunted look. The lake is pitch black but she knows when they wake up tomorrow it will be a glistening blue, sparkling against the weak sunlight.

“Want to have a bath?” Leo nuzzles her neck, “Get warm?”

“Yes,” She breathes, “And then can we make hot chocolate and snuggle up by the fire?”

His laughter is bright and lovely as he spins her around so they’re chest to chest. “We can do whatever you want, my love.” 

“Let’s go then!’ She tugs on his hand, racing to the bathroom. “I’ve got a new book i want to start.”

“Of course you do,” He scrunches his nose teasingly, “You nerd.”

“Hey, i’m not the one pursuing yet another degree.’ She gives him a pointed look. “I mean i love studying but a PhD and a masters later?” Her face pulls with exasperation, “Even that’s too much for me.”

He scoffs, slapping her butt as she bends down to turn the tap on, “I have to study if i want a degree in architecture.”

“You know i wanted to be an architect when i was little.” She mutters distractedly, swirling her hand in the water as it heats up.

“You did?” She can hear the surprise in his voice. “What stopped you?”

She smirks over her shoulder, “All the cute girls liked engineers better.”

“Yes that certainly seemed to be the case.” His eyes spark with joy as laughter bubbles out of him. It fills all the cracks inside her, like gold.

She strips and lowers herself into the steaming water, while her boyfriend gets ready to join her. And then, with a content sigh he gets in behind her, supple fingers already reaching to massage the knots that seem to tie themselves at her shoulders. With a groan she leans into him, letting the magic of the moment wash over her. It’s not surprising then, when she falls asleep.

She is woken up by the loss of heat at her back. Grogginess clouding her mind, she cracks an eye open and sees Leo standing over her, a towel around his waist.

“Can you help me, my love?” He grips underneath her arms. “I need you to push up so we can get you out of the bath and I can dry you off. Can you do that?”

Sleep is pulling at the exhausted strings of her body and it is a fight to hear what he says. But something pierces the hazy veil and she nods, digging her heels into the porcelain tub.

In one swift motion she is pulled out and stumbling into a warm body. A towel, coarse with freshness, rubs across her body; she doesn’t register much of the situation, swaying on her feet as her boyfriend dries her legs. A chilly breeze wraps around her bare arms, and she feels goosebumps rise on her skin. Oh dear, what if Leo is also cold? She should check on him. She blinks, blinks again, and realises he’s on the floor, rubbing her calves in a gentle motion.

“How’s the weather down their babe?” She mumbles, looking at him, or the blurry image of him, before her.

“Warm, love,” He smirks up at her, “View is great too.”

“Of course it is,” Her murmur is all sleep-deprived and unintelligible. She feels him press a kiss to her knee. “I'm tired,”

“I know angel.” His voice is so soft. Like marshmallows and clouds and sweetness. “Here’s a t-shirt.” He holds one of her hands as he guides it through the correct holes, and then her head, and her other hand. She moans contentedly.

Through her fluttering eyelids she sees a little smirk pulling at his lovely, candlelit face. “It smells good.”

“The shirt?” He kneels before her and lifts a foot to put on her favourite pair of fluffy socks. “What does it smell like?”

There’s nothing but pretty darkness, and molten brown eyes as she collapses into his arms. “Smells like you.”

Lifting her up so her head is against his chest, and an arm is tucked underneath her knees, he whispers. “Let’s go to bed, my love.”

Moments later she is gently put down in what can only be described as paradise. She sinks into the duvets burying her nose in the fresh sheets which smell like forests and rose-petals. Leo crawls in next to her, and after a bit of maneuvering she slings her arm around his waist and finds the spot between his neck and shoulders where her head fits perfectly. 

He kisses her head of curls, “Goodnight angel.”

It is the last thing she remembers before she succumbs to her exhaustion.

Annabeth wakes up to sunshine on her skin, and her nose nuzzling her boyfriend’s back. The room is quiet, save for Leo’s steady breathing, and she takes the time to observe their slice of Elysium.

A small writing desk sits in the corner, a stack of yellowed papers and a fake quill on top of it. The bed is situated in the center of the space with dark wood canopies framing it. And the huge window that sits to their right looks out to the lake which, as she had suspected, is bright blue. There is a small boat house tucked in the reeds that border the water and she knows before the end of the week they’ll have used the canoes housed there, and probably dropped the oars in the water about six times before they get the hang of it.

In the other corner of the room is the entrance to their bathroom; as she looks to it she realises with a startle that she needs to pee. Very badly. Trying not to make too much of a disturbance she slides out and races to the bathroom. When she comes back Leo is awake, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and sitting up, against their mountain of pillows.

“Hello love,” She smiles, tucking herself into his side, ‘How did you sleep?”

“Like the dead.” He grins, all white teeth and mischief.

“Me too.” She traces her finger along the smooth plains of his stomach. “I really was tired.”

He giggles, “I know. You couldn’t even keep yourself upright while I tried to towel you dry.”

She pokes him, “At least i didn’t fall back into the tub.”

“I would have left you there.”

Her gasp of disbelief sets them both laughing and when she reaches up to brush a kiss to his lips, she swallows his happiness like it’s her favourite drug.

“Shall we make breakfast and go for a boat ride?”

“First one to lose the oar has to plan the holiday party this year?” She smirks, holding out her hand to sign the deal.

Her boyfriend takes her hand in his, and pulls her closer so they’re barely a breath apart. “You’re on Chase.”

And when they come back from the lake hours later, Annabeth is the one to plan the holiday party because her boyfriend, no her fiancé, had surprised her with a ring. That’s really an honourable reason to lose an oar. Or both. 

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

Tags:

@nishlicious-01​

@spoopylucy​

@leydiangelo​

[rocket-remmy]

So Long and Thanks For All The Brains || Nora and Remmy

TIMING: Current (a few days ago) PARTIES: @fearfordinner and @whatsin-yourhead SUMMARY: Remmy helps Nora move a desk. The mansion transformation is complete. CONTENT: Limb loss (you KNOW I had to do it :/)

The most nerve wracking of good-byes was going to be Nora. Remmy fiddled with their shirt as they looked around the mansion and the way they’d transformed the place from a dusty, old home into a bright, bustling sanctuary. The spell Nell, Bea and Luce had done seemed to be working well, and the incense burning smelled so nice. The atmosphere of the entire place was different now. It was warm and welcoming and it already brought a tear to Remmy’s eye, knowing they were leaving it behind. Because once they opened the doors, the world outside of this place was still cold and harsh. It was tearing them apart and trying to destroy their kindness. They didn’t want that. There were people here that they loved and cared about, but they needed to do this. They needed the freedom to leave and choose who to be. They heard the knocking of Nora’s hammer as they made their way up to her studio and peered in. “Hey, uh, Nora?” they called quietly, clearing their throat. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” 

The mansion was a different place now. Nora had moved many cobwebs into designated spider areas and hung up many signs to not destroy the roommates. She’d put up paintings, bought furniture and most of all she’d tried her hardest to make the mansion a place for people. A place for people with bodies. A home full of ghosts had been nice, but now Nora was excited for a home full of living people. It had gone from a poorly furnished bare bones home, to a heavily decorated filled one. She wanted the house to feel cozy to those who lived in it. Warm. Safe. Nora was hammering together some desks for the study area when Remmy approached. “Yeah.” Nora answered, surprised that Remmy felt the need to ask. She rocked back on her heels, looking at Remmy waiting for them to talk. 

Remmy slipped a little further into the room, a bit bashful. “Are those more desks for the office?” they asked, noticing what Nora was hammering at now that they were inside the workshop. “Those’ll look nice.” They’d realized a bit ago that their decision to leave meant that they were putting a big responsibility on Nora’s shoulders-- and it wasn’t that they didn’t think she could do it, they simply felt bad for forcing this on her. And so they’d come to another decision. Clearing their throat, they sat in one of the dusty chairs. “I got accepted to MIT,” they said, twiddling thumbs, “I applied a few months ago. I didn’t really expect to get in, but--” they shrugged, “they want me to start this upcoming semester, too. So I--” they glanced around before looking at Nora, “I’m gonna leave White Crest for a while.” 

Nora glanced down at the desks, wiping away the sweat beads on  her forehead. “Yeah.” As taciturn as ever despite her excited mood. Nora placed the hammer down next to her as Remmy explained the details. MIT. Nora had heard about that school. A school for smart people. “Oh.” Nora answered. “Congratulations.” She looked down at the desk in front of her, the desk for the sanctuary that had been Remmy’s ideas. Their project turned into their project. “Okay.” Nora nodded. Accept. Adapt. Overcome. “I’ll miss you.” The words were true. “When do you leave?” Nora inquired, her hand tracing the blue tarp covering the hardwood floors of her studio. “Do you need anything?” 

“Um...around the first of the year,” Remmy replied quietly, “So...soon. I...Love what we’ve created here, and I’m really proud of what we’ve done, but I--” they paused, rubbing the back of their head. “I need to do something for myself for once, you know? This-- this is something I’ve really wanted, for a long time. And-- a lot of things have happened here that make it so that I...I can’t be happy here. Not right now.” They weren’t sure the explanation was enough to make up for it all, they knew they were leaving a lot in Nora’s hands, but they knew Nora was capable. “But I-- I promise I’m gonna come back often and check up on things, okay? IT’s not that far away. Maybe like every other weekend or so. I’m not just gonna leave forever. And, who knows-- maybe once I’m done with school I can come back, you know?” They fiddled with the wood of the doorway. “I-- I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave like this, but it-- it’s the best decision for me.”

“You’ll always have your room here.” Nora’s monotone was hurried as she said it. A reassurance that she could give that this would be okay. “You deserve this.” Remmy had spent a lot of time being kind to others. Being helpful. Being here. Nora hadn’t even been present. It was not, and would not, be her place to ask anyone to give up their dreams. “Whenever you want. Holidays. Or. Breaks. Or. Whatever.” Nora gave a sturdy nod, picking her hammer back up and going back to work on the table. Three out of four legs were on, it was almost ready to be carried down to the office. “You deserve this.” Nora repeated. Was it for her? Was it for Remmy? Was it for both of them? Who knew. “I can do this.” It’ll give her something to do that wasn’t storming the library, but she would storm the library. Nora paused before slamming the hammer down, her eyes circling up to the vaulted ceiling, the light paint speckles that had gotten splattered from various paint exercises. “It’ll be a home you’ll be proud of, if you want to come back.” 

Remmy let out a breath, even though by now, they knew they didn’t need air. It was one of those reflexes that they just couldn’t kick the habit of. Maybe in a hundred years, or maybe two. Maybe then they’d be used to these undead lungs. Until then, they would continue to hold their breath in anxious situations. But Nora, for all her monotone, seemed genuinely happy for them. Her words settled the butterflies in their stomach as well. “Thank you,” they murmured, coming over to where she was now, and examining the table. “Do you need help moving this?” they asked, looking up at her. “Once it’s done, I can help you. I still need to do some packing, but I wanna get this place perfect before I do.” 

Babadook slunk in the room, letting out a mournful greeting to all inside. He instantly walked to his dog bed, a black canopied plush design, did three turns and curled into a ball. Completely unaware of the sad yet happy news. Oh to be a dog. As Nora watched her companion, she wondered if he was supposed to hibernate. Maybe they should have hibernated together. Instead here she was, sleeves pushed up to her elbows, sweat covering her brow, the start of a callus forming on her left dominant hand from all the hammering she’d been doing to make furniture. Nora decided that she’d send Remmy a care package every week. One with lots of meat so they would make lots of friends. “Wha-.” The words Remmy had spoken were late entering her processing plant, she’d been lost in contemplation. They tumbled in almost instantly after asking. “Yeah, yeah. It’s for the office area.” Nora slapped a hand on the table. It was going to be able to hold so many documents.

Remmy watched Babadook idly and realized with a sudden lurch that they were going to miss him very much. He was the strangest pet they could think of for anyone to have and yet so fitting for someone like Nora. Then again, Nora was one of the strangest people Remmy had ever met, but her heart was good, and it held so much love. They couldn’t help but give a fond smile over at Babadook, slinking over quietly and bending down to pat his head gently, as to not wake him from his slumber. Tentacles rustled about on his back and Remmy looked over to Nora again. “It’ll go perfect in there,” they grinned, standing back up and brushing their knees off. Sawdust was everywhere in the studio, but that’s what this place was for. They hoped others would use it as well. “Shall we get it set up? I think I know the perfect spot for it in the room.”

“Yeah.” Nora agreed. The monotone bear was becoming increasingly aware that almost the entirety of her vocabulary had been yeah. “That would be very helpful.” The words were more articulated then she meant them to be, forcing them out to exchange more words. Nora jumped to her feet, her bare feet slapping the tarp mixed with the wood underneath made a satisfying thwump sound. “Get that side?” Nora asked, picking up the side closest to her. Despite being a bear, Nora wasn’t particularly strong. Where all that food she ate went she just didn’t know, but it did not go into her muscle mass. “What are you majoring in?” Nora inquired. 

“Okay, cool!” Remmy said, glad that Nora was at least trying to make an effort to forgo her usual monotone and monosyllabic sentences. She always tried hard for Remmy and that warmed their heart. They padded over and grabbed the other side of the desk, lifting it with ease. Despite being well fed, Remmy had always been relatively strong, and without the capacity to feel exhaustion or weariness in their muscles, lifting things had become exceedingly easier. “Oh, uh-- mechanical engineering and design to start. And then I’m kinda hoping to enter the astronautics engineering program. They said I have a lot of potential for it. Wouldn’t that be awesome? Imagine one day...one of the rockets up in space could be designed by me,” they said with a glimmer in their eyes, “Or, well...part of the rocket, at least.” 

Astronautics engineering. That sounded more complicated than anything Nora could wrap her mind around. Right now she was simply trying to understand how a whole town could let a library lie to them. That was hard enough. Remmy’s thing sounded like it involved math. Yuck. “Why not the whole thing.” Nora asked, taking a glance behind her before waddling towards the studio door. The table was heavy. Maybe she should have constructed it in the office. Some people were smarter than others. Nora kicked the door open so she could back through it. “That’s stellar.” She added. “Are you going into space too? Or no want for that?” Nora wasn’t sure if the military and space had anything to do with each other, but how different was space training than the military training? Probably similar. Maybe more math. Double yuck.

“Well, cause...it takes a whole team to design one rocket, you know?” Remmy replied, sidling backwards with the table in their hands. Nora seemed to be struggling a little, so they tried to regrab the desk in a better way to help take some of the stress off of her, arm stretched awkwardly around. At least if they fell down the stairs, they wouldn’t die. “I’ll go backwards, okay?” They started heading down and Remmy looked around the desk back over at Nora. “Ha, nice pun. But uh-- no. Just designing them. I think it’d be cool to go into space one day, but I’ve pretty much got forever, you know? So I’m just concentrating on what will make me happy right now. Like this,” they nodded at Nora, “and designing aircraft.” They started backing down the stairs slowly. “Are you happy, Nora? I mean, like...with what you do? Your art is amazing, but does it, like-- make you happy?”

Nora let the table readjust so that Remmy could be the one walking backwards, secretly grateful. “I’m glad you have forever.” And Nora truly was. Remmy would get to see so much in their unlife. Things that Nora’s average lifespan wouldn’t be able to comprehend. Nora’s thoughts paused. Did she have an average lifespan? She didn’t know how long bears lived. What if she had their life span? Or maybe a bugbear was a combined lifespan of humans and bears. Or maybe it was the combined life span of a bug and a bear and that was why it was called a bugbear. Nora shuddered, allowing her thoughts to be moved away by Remmy’s question. Nora did not want to live only a few days like a bug. “Am I happy?” Nora repeated the question, the words coming out slowly as if she had to taste every word before allowing it out. “I think so.” Did anyone truly know what happiness was? Was there a feeling she was missing in her life that would be better designed as happiness? As someone who is never scared, how did she know if she was never happy? “It makes me content. I want to live with it forever. It gives me something to define myself by. Something I control.” The words fell out faster this time, an easy answer. “So I think so.”

Remmy pondered on the words for a moment. Somehow, despite Nora seemingly fumbling through life, she always seemed to say relatively wise things. And she did it so often with such ease. Remmy often wondered what was going on inside her head, but her thoughts were her own, and if she’d wanted to share, she would. They nodded. “That makes sense. I think I-- I think that’s what I want. I want to feel content, you know?” Well, of course Nora knew, she’d been the one to say it. They ruffled their nose and nodded. “I think that’s what I’m looking for in this. Just somewhere to start. Then I can work on everything else later.” Because they would have forever, like they’d said. Even if the thought more often made them sad than happy. Living forever meant living beyond all their friends’ lifespans, except Morgan. It wasn’t exactly the nicest thought. They shrugged. “I’m glad you have that, though.” They were very nearly to the bottom of the stairs and Remmy tried to shift the desk again, feeling it slip just slightly from their grip. “Wait-- hold on-- don’t--” 

Nora only nodded as Remmy said they would like to be content. If Nora had been a wizard capable of casting lifelong blessings on those around her she would have cast a life of contentedness for Remmy right then and there. Alas, the only emotion she’d ever truly been able to manage was fear. Not that Remmy had ever been scared of her. Perhaps thats why only Remmy lasted so long in the haunted mansion. Nora really would miss Remmy. ”You’ll be great. Whatever you decide to move onto after it will be just as great.” Everything Remmy would do would be great. Except, maybe, carrying this table down the stairs. More weight hit Nora, she did her best to keep a steady grip on it so the table wouldn’t slide down the stairs on top of Remmy. “Uh. Remmy.” Nora looked down at her friend, one of their arms, while still holding on to the table, was no longer attached to Remmy. “When I said give me a hand I didn’t mean literally.”

The weight of the desk had shifted and without much thought, Remmy had tried to shift with it. But instead of catching the desk, their arm had caught between the railing and the desk had slid against it, and in the next moment, Remmy’s arm was detaching itself from their shoulder. Admittedly, while still trying their best to take care of themself, they hadn’t fed in a few days, but they hadn’t thought it’d been this long. They hardly even noticed, until Nora pointed it out. Glancing down at their now severed arm, Remmy groaned loudly and threw up their other arm. “Not again!” they cried out, but somehow they were smiling. Moving the desk, it seemed, would have to wait a few more minutes. But...that was okay with them. After all, it just meant that much more time with Nora.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Descendants 3- time heist au! - part 1 - discovery

=

Uma forced herself to breathe calmly, placing her hand on her chest focusing on her heart.

“Alright, one step at a time Uma” she muttered to herself, eyes fluttering around the room, eyes catching on her mother's tank, her bed, the desk with the laptop, the star maps, maps of the ocean, and….and a picture of herself with…harry and Gil!

Uma bolted forward, grasping onto the frame bringing it closer to her face. There they were, her boys with herself in the middle wearing….Auradon style clothes?

She was wearing a teal sundress with golden lining, her mother's shell necklace, her teal ankle boots, with her old box braids in a bun with two framing her face, she was smirking at the camera a calm look on her face.

Harry was wearing a clean red Letterman jacket, full-length black pants, black boots, his eyeliner clean, his hook hitched to a loop on his pants, gloves gone from his hands, which one rested on her shoulder, the other saluting the camera.

Gil wore a button-up dark orange shirt, dark blue jeans, brown boots, and dark brown gloves, brightly smiling, one hand resting on her opposite shoulder, the other making a peace sign at the camera.

“huh” she turned the frame over, thumb brushing over a paper on the back, she unstuck it, opening the folded note.

-family day was a bust, but at least we got a good picture, note to self: thank Gil for the outfits that he made in a couple of hours- Uma: 2015

What the hell…2015? That was the year….the year…the year that Mal and her friends were invited to Auradon!!!

She let out a slow breath, looking around for a book, a diary of hers or something, she jumped as she heard a loud tapping from the tank. Uma turned, glaring at her mother, who just pointed to a chest in a corner.

“Alright, now you help” she muttered, watching wearily as the octopus shrugged, and went back to batting the skull rock.

Uma threw open the chest, blinking as she saw her isle clothes, the old torn clothes, and leather sitting neatly folded in the chest. Uma shook her head, digging through the chest, smiling as she felt a book-like object.

Digging it out, she nodded as she saw the writing on the front.

My journal - 2015 my new adventure in Auradon

Underneath her writing, Harry and Gil's scrawl were slapped on the front.

-With Harry!

-And Gill!

-your names Gil buddy

-oh, sory harry!

Uma chucked, her boys were stupid. Flipping through the books, she read as this worlds past self detailed the day she Harry and Gil were invited to Auradon prep

…

To the day where her mother invaded Auradon and tried to crash a tidal wave into the cathedral. And Uma tapped into power she didn’t know she had, stopping the wave and her mother in their tracks, turning her mother into a sad small octopus.

She slumped onto her bed, staring down at the last page of the journal.

I cant wait to see what Auradon has in store for us, and I will get the kids off the isle….even, bleh Mal.

Ewww why the lizard brain brat?

Yeah, why?

Because im, not someone who just leaves kids to die, not even Mal deserves that life, no kid on that isle does

Uma groaned, falling back onto her bed, staring up at her canopy, the small fairy lights staring back at her.

“This is fucking insane” she muttered, rubbing her face harshly, she had no clue what was going on!

She had a completely different set of memories than her journal said.

She was just fighting Audrey who had just…cast…a…time…SPELL HOLY FUCK!

Uma jumped up, flipping through her book again, growling as she couldn’t find the page she needed.

“by the power of the sea, find the page I need!”

The book glowed golden, the pages flipping at a high speed before setting at a page she had skipped over.

Audrey formally introduced her self today, without that “prissy princess” act…I like her

She listened to you about Mal and insulted her, of course you like her!

And your point is?

It seemed she and Audrey had a good relationship, as no other pages described any bad feelings between them other than their first meeting, and she hadn’t used a love spell on Ben, instead biding her time and waiting for the perfect moment at the coronation.

But like Mal, she ended up choosing the side of good and defeating her mother for Auradon.

She stood from her bed.

She needed to find Harry and Gil.

And she needed to find out if they also remembered what she did.

---end of part 1, comment for part 2--

taglist

@virgil-is-a-cutie​

@demigoddesofchimichangagod​

@idiefordescendants​

@daughter-of-pan12​

@kybee1497​

@miss-mysterys-blog​

[minah-delacroix]

At any price (Part VII)

Universe: Dynasty AU

Characters: Minah, Tyler, Daniel (briefly)

Word count: 2,1 k

Addiction

Tyler and Minah are like a drug to each other. As days pass by what was initially meant to be some sort of ridiculous ploy to get over Sungjae soon becomes something Minah loses control over and almost tastes like an addiction. Somewhere between their unspoken agreement and sex by a pool, whatever it is they have has sent Minah’s judgment flying out the window. The smug smirk plastered on Tyler’s face every time she pronounces his name, suggests he’s fully aware of it and enjoys the power he holds over her. Under normal circumstances, Minah would’ve been mortified, but given the fact she wants to keep Sungjae off her mind, she doesn’t care as long as her nights —and days— are spent with her body pressed against Tyler’s, having fun between the sheets of his canopy bed. Or on top of his mahogany desk. Or hers.

Today it’s the sofa in their office; a purchase Tyler had deemed unnecessary, but that now seems useful as he lays shirtless on it, arms up under his head. Amused, the man follows Minah’s attempts to cover the marks on her neck with a one-of-a-kind ‘Jeu des Omnibus et Dames Blanches’ carré Hermès that he managed to snatch from a private collector, a first edition as rare as Minah herself.

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving already” Tyler sits up, his voice laced with an evident intention that turns even more obvious as he slides to Minah’s side, his lips tracing kisses along her clavicle.

Minah can guess what he wants without even looking at him.

Over the past months working together and a couple of weeks sleeping with him, Minah has learned that Tyler Lee likes grand gestures and despises dullness. The fact she has a ten thousand euro worth piece of silk wrapped around her neck to hide the love bites he left on her skin it’s a testament to it. It is as arousing as it is embarrassing, so she tries to stop Tyler’s attempts to untie the scarf, but she knows she’s fighting a lost battle because there’s not ever a time Tyler lets her go without a second round. And for that, lately, she’s as thankful as she’s equally exhausted  —or at least Enzo has pointed out so every time they meet for lunch—.

“Did you read our end-year report?” Minah questions, pushing Tyler’s head gently and looking at him in the eyes. He clicks his tongue, but can’t even begin to get mad at her because there’s an angelic aura of sexual afterglow surrounding Minah that distracts him from reality and the fact she’s glaring at him.

Ignoring the small dent between her brows, he reaches over and plants a sloppy kiss on Minah’s lips,

“I should’ve learned it by now” he laughs when Minah breaks the kiss and starts fastening her Kiki de Montparnasse corset “Discussing business is your version of an after-sex cigarette” Minah gives Tyler that faint half deprecatory, half seductive smile she is so good at and shakes her head “But I’ll give you some credit, at least you’ve moved past the this-is-the-last-time-we-do-it speech” Tyler teases, pulling her into his lap and lowering his head to hers.

“No, this really is the last time” Minah whines, but it is evident her words are empty because her body instinctively responds to his lingering touches “I don’t want people thinking we’re doing business together because we share a bed”

“You mean a couch” Tyler corrects “Or a desk, or the bar” he continues, giving Minah soft pecks on the cheeks “The only time we leave this office is to do it on the balcony or home”

“Well, had you read the report, you’d understand why.” Minah knows she’ll have her legs wrapped around Tyler in a few minutes without much effort on his part, but she still attempts to direct Tyler’s attention to the problem at hand. “Our company isn’t as profitable yet” Minah rolls her eyes when Tyler starts kissing her neck again and unclasping her corset “And this is not exactly helping-” she groans.

“Now, isn’t it?” A cocky grin stretches out on Tyler’s face when Minah shifts under him.

Minah still wants to protests, but she gives in once again, mentally scolding herself for allowing Tyler to get away with it every single time.

Foreign territory

An hour or so later Tyler slips a black turtleneck sweater over his head. Across the room, Minah buttons a silk transparent blouse that allows the corset underneath to flaunt her perfect figure. A strategic choice that had a lot to do with Tyler and little with the fact she had been summoned to Delacroix Manor for, in the words of her aunt Valerie, another meeting revolving around the preservation of Delacroix Corp and the family —which Minah had pointed out was basically the same thing.

“So, the end-year report,” Minah says without preamble. She struggles again trying to find the perfect way to tie her silk scarf and effectively hide the hickeys on her neck, which amuses Tyler enough to make him chuckle.

“You know we’ve been on the market less than a year, it was expected we ended the year like this” Though Tyler’s face suddenly turns serious, Minah still can detect a double sense to his words, especially because he’s buckling his belt as he speaks.

“And when do I ever settle for the expected?” Minah pouts ever so slightly.

Tyler is about to reply with some witty comeback, the kind he’s so good at making and he doesn’t even have to think of because it just slips past his lips naturally, but he’s interrupted by his phone pinging somewhere in the office. He stands up and scrambles to find it only to realize it’s still in his suit blazer. He practically jogs to get his Tom Ford jacket from the back of his chair and his face contorts in something akin to unhappiness when he finally inspects whatever it is he’s received.

Minah looks at him concerned.

“What’s wrong? Did Harrods ran out of turtlenecks again?” Minah tries to joke, walking up to him and wrapping an arm around his waist.

Tyler shakes his head. His expression is bitter and if she didn’t know better, Minah would assume Tyler looks hurt.

“It’s Tara, she’s bailing on me for Christmas to spend time with Yang and his family” He informs with a somber expression, throwing his phone onto his chair mindlessly.

“Well, it’s only fair, after you ditched her on your birthday for that mystery woman” Minah still recalls how angry Tara seemed after finding out Tyler was seen sailing in a private yacht in the Galapagos after ditching a party she prepared for weeks. It was back when Tyler and Minah were planning the launch of Envoûté and she still lived in her family’s home.  She can also remember Tyler being super secretive about it and Tara ignoring him for weeks after the incident. Thinking about  the whole situation suddenly makes her curious, so she ventures to ask “So, who is she?” Minah moves slyly to face Tyler “Name, age, weight?”

He only laughs and shakes his head

“Oh, come on, Lee, you know about my past” Minah pouts “Why can’t I know about yours?”

Tyler shrugs and Minah doesn’t insist. She’s learned to recognize some boundaries between them and this time his lips appear sealed on the topic, so she walks back to her desk to pick her purse and pulls a Dior 5 Couleurs Eyeshadow Palette and her YSL lipstick from it. She retouches her makeup without even sparing a single glance at Tyler.

Then, out of a sudden, he clears his throat

“There was never another woman, Minah,” He says, simply. The revelation forces Minah to stop smacking her lips together and turn to look at him with a raised brow. “I was visiting my dad.”

To understand the weight of Tyler’s words one must know that Mr. Lee, once upon a time one of the greatest politicians in Asia and formerly one of the richest men on the planet had been sentenced to 8 years in prison for embezzlement, bribery, and corruption. It had been so shameful for Tyler’s mother that she’d ran away with Tara and Tyler back to her parents’ home in London and never looked back. Ever since talking about their father was taboo for the Lee siblings.

“I thought you’d cut ties with him,” Minah says after an uncomfortable silence settles between them, making Minah wonder if she’s ventured way too far into foreign territory. Even if they’re business partners and as of recently “more than friends”, the whole oversharing family secrets seems a bit too personal for her liking. Tyler seems to think the same judging by the way he keeps his answer curt and free of any further detail.

“I am trying to fix it” Tyler tries to appear nonchalant as he walks toward Minah, “And because of that, Tara is giving me the cold shoulder” he adds, closing the distance between them and sliding his hands down Minah’s back.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Minah says cupping his face with both hands, she almost seems ready to coo at him and how cute he looks when he’s sulking “I hope she comes around,” she says, letting her hands fall to rest on his chest.

“It’s just as likely as you getting the company out the red” Tyler presses a soft peck on the tip of Minah’s nose and she automatically scrunches it up as though he’s done something disgusting, but it’s actually the realization of how domestic and couple-like they are acting at the moment what makes her react that way.

“This is a season for miracles,” she says, pulling away from Tyler, at the very last second, before his lips come into contact with hers.

“And sorry, but I have to go see my grandparents. They want to negotiate my return to their home” Minah says, briefly picking her coat, her purse, and rushing to the door, leaving a very confused Tyler behind.

Festive spirit

When Minah arrives at Delacroix Manor, her grandparents, aunts, and Suho are waiting by the door, looking nothing less than picture-perfect. So much that the image almost seems fake and makes Minah wish she’d stayed with Tyler instead. They’re all wearing matching festive colors, so although she’s not the slightest bit surprised —after all it’s nearly Christmas— Minah’s outfit clashes with the rest of her family members.

“Intervention or surprise party?” Minah inquires as she climbs the last stairs and finds herself face to face with her grandfather.

“Welcome back, actually,” Her grandmother says, her face not really showing any hint of emotion that allows Minah to discover whether her presence is appreciated or not.

"And not for you” Aunt Valerie adds apologetically.

“Thank God, I was afraid I had to act grateful” Minah walks past her family, ignoring whoever spoke to inform her that  Gabe was returning to the Manor after a short “business” trip Minah knew had to do a lot with his latest scandal and very little with Delacroix Corp.

“Minah” The Delacroix patriarch calls before she manages to sneak inside the manor “Best behavior”

It’s probably the Christmas spirit or the fact Tyler exhausted her too much to complain, but Minah only rolls eyes and takes her spot beside Suho as her brain formulates intricate plans to go back to the Lee Manor before Tara leaves for that college reunion she had scheduled. She thinks she might've found the perfect Christmas gift for the Lee siblings.

However, Minah doesn’t make it to Lee Manor that night because both Suho and her finally get those apologies they’d been expecting, and with her thoughts clouded by the emotive moment, she agrees to move back to the manor, even if it’s just for the holidays. It’s a start and everybody seems happy with that. Even Minah’s grandparents.

That’s why the next morning Daniel Choi parks Tara’s Mercedes S-Class in front of a row of topiaries by the entrance of Delacroix Manor. He can't quite believe he allowed Tyler to convince him of joining Tara —who's maneuvering out of the car holding a heavy bowling bag— and Minah in whatever ridiculous activity they were planning for the day, so he curses his best friend silently as he steps out of the car. It’s the third time in a row that Tyler stands him up and he’s beginning to feel it’s about time he packs his bags and goes back to New York.

“Or probably not” Daniel says, noticing that cutie from the other day—Seokjae or whatever his name is— walking in their direction.

...

[babbushka]

Beautiful, Beloved (1/8)

You had met three times: The first, an introduction. The second, a lunch. The third, your wedding. Can bonds be made in such short a time as a week long honeymoon aboard the immensely impressive RMS Titanic?

Yes, yes they can.

Kylo Ren x Reader 

Word Count: 4400

Warnings: NSFW 

Also available on AO3! 

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

You had met him three times in total.

The first had been an introduction. The second, a luncheon. The third was today, your wedding.

You never imagined being married, let alone married to a stranger.  

Of course that was a silly thought to be had, because of course you would need to marry – but something about actually holding the title was a feeling you for some reason had never imagined.

Lady Ren. How thrilling, you thought with a smile.

There certainly were worse strangers to be married to, you thought.

Your smile turned to an expression of mild panic as you tightened your grip on your newly wedded husband’s arm, the car making a sharp left turn out of the blue. His gloved hand rested gently on your arm, gave it a reassuring pat.

“I think that went rather well, don’t you?” Lord Ren, your newly wedded husband offered dryly.

The two of you were seated in the back of a brand-new automobile, a wedding present from your in-laws.

It was the new model of Rolls Royce, something called the silver ghost. Aptly named, for the sunlight glittered off the highly polished exterior and the engine was the softest you had heard yet.

The mechanic drove well, although you were still suspicious of the machinery. The clean streets of the city gave way to beautifully manicured parks and gardens as the world zipped past, making the journey from your wedding venue to the place you would call home forever.

You tore your eyes away from the blur of trees and pavement to Lord Ren, who was referring to the wedding no doubt.

It had gone off without a hitch, a beautiful afternoon ceremony as was fashionable for the day. Your dress remained crisp and clean the whole way through, and all the guests left well fed. It was a long wedding, but a pleasant one, the only tears that were shed were those of happiness.

“Yes, I think so too.” You nodded, holding on as the car made another turn.

“No one was punched, anyway.” Lord Ren muttered, seemingly under his breath.

“Punched?” You asked with eyebrows raised, amused.

“A fist-fight broke out at my parent’s wedding. My uncle had to step in and break it up; so I’d say we’re already doing better than them.” Lord Ren ran a hand through his hair, unusually long for societal standards.

You found that you liked that about him, his deviancy.

“May I ask who was fighting whom?” You hedged, not wanting to overstep.

“My father, and the man who had come to collect his debts.” Lord Ren replied, surprisingly unashamed.

“What a scandal!” You couldn’t help but laugh, “Who won?”

“My father did. I’m surprised you never read of it in the papers.” Lord Ren regarded you with something akin to warmth, tucked a stray hair underneath your veil from where the wind had pulled it free.

You lingered on the moment, already feeling yourself grow fond for this man. Perhaps he wouldn’t be a stranger for long.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much time for reading the news, my charity work keeps me busy.” You admitted.

You hoped that wouldn’t be an issue, your charity work. You took a great deal of pride in it, and had no intention of reigning in your efforts for the eradication of child labor, and the education of young lower class girls.

You had heard much about Lord Ren’s politics, and you knew him to be quite a charitable man as well, albeit one with a more…explosive reputation.  

“Not too busy that I won’t see hide nor hair of you, I hope.” He surprised you with his gentleness, how reserved he was.

This did not look like the man who angrily drew his sword and held it to the throats of barons, who threw large tantrums and shattered antiques with ease when a letter came bearing bad news, who once choked a poor footman near-half to death -- as the stories went.

You had been afraid at first, when your parents announced the plans for you to marry such a man.

You were worried that he would be unkind towards you, or distant altogether. An heir and a spare, as they said. You had been assured that taking a lover was perfectly acceptable once the children had been born and the inheritance would have a viable heir to go to, but something in you spoke loudly, wanting to love the man you married. Everyone called you a romantic.

Everyone said there was no place for romance in marriage. You had intended to prove them wrong.

So when it was announced that Lord Kylo Ren was to be man, you suddenly grew unsure. He was a man with a reputation. People feared him, you did not want to fear him too.

Lord Ren looked intimidating, you had to admit, what with his entirely black ensemble and large scar that adorned his face. You understood how it could be so easy to fear him, this appearance combined with the personality that was so heavily gossiped about.

Perhaps it was this combination that he was working to counter-act; being ever so slightly more careful, as to not scare you.

The thought, however true or false it may be, made you warm.

“I should ask the same of you.” You said, as the automobile slowed.

Lord Ren smiled when you did not immediately remove your arm from his, content to leave it there as the grand entryway of the estate came into view.

“We’re here, ready to see your new home?” He asked you, and you nodded.

“Close your eyes.” He said, and you did, keeping them shut as you felt the engine putter underneath you.

 Only a few moments later did Lord Ren carefully, ever so gently, remove your satin gloved hands from your face, giving you the hint to open your eyes.

The estate was, in a word, extravagant.

The land and gardens were a sight to behold, lush greenery that felt almost like a painting -- grass could certainly not be so green! But the house itself, was a sight to behold all on its own.

It was a beautiful shade of yellow, like that of freshly churned butter, or daffodils. It seemed to stretch on forever, at least three stories tall. There was even a circular tower near the front, you hoped it sported views of the pond just across, where swans leisurely floated atop crystal clear waters. You wondered if the estate had a rowboat, or if one could be purchased.

The automobile came to a halt just outside the grand courtyard, where the mechanic put the car in park. The entire staff was lined up outside to greet you and your husband, a footman hurried to open the door for you.

“Lord and Lady Ren, welcome home.” A man whom you assumed to be the butler greeted you, as the line of staff bowed or curtsied.

“Oh it’s gorgeous!” You replied, gratefully taking the butler’s hand and stepping down from the Rolls Royce, eager to stretch your legs after the nearly hour long journey from the city.

“Do you like it? I had it built especially for you, I tried to emulate the countryside with the landscaping.” Lord Ren joined you and stood by your side, careful not to step on your train or veil.

“Just for me?” You asked in return, eyes widening at the beauty and sheer newness of the house. It must have only just finished being constructed, there was no trace of dirt or wear on the yellow brick.

“Yes, I didn’t want you to feel like you had to conform to my estate.” Lord Ren replied.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re incredibly considerate?” You asked, a rhetorical question.

“No, they certainly haven’t.” He answered anyway.

You smiled, you were happy to be the first.

 The inside of the house was just as magnificent as the outside, perhaps even more-so. Everything was so light, windows as tall as you were with open curtains allowed sunshine to pour into the rooms.

All the furniture was painted a light brown, with cream or ivory or golden upholstery to match the beautifully papered walls. Crystal chandeliers reflected light which bounced around the room through freshly polished mirrors, little rainbows dancing across the vases and various ornaments.

Portrait paintings hung on the walls in large ornate frames that reminded you very much of the Louvre. Pity the French couldn’t maintain their monarchy, you thought with the smallest of laughs.

“Can we go to the bedroom?” You asked, boldly.

Lord Ren quirked a smile, and nodded, leading you down a set of corridors and hallways.

The bedroom was small, and you liked that. Liked that it meant you could be closer to your husband, should you both be in the room at the same time.

The walls were a beautiful camel color, with decorative crown molding that ran the perimeter of the ceiling. They were papered in an ornate filigree style, and thoughtfully covered with old paintings. You wondered who the people in the paintings were, if they were relatives, or just purchased for their aesthetic value.

There were large windows and desks which faced them, a beautiful rug that must have come from Persia if the weaving was anything to go by, but most impressive of all was the bed.

It wasn’t a very wide bed, but that you didn’t mind. You envisioned many nights spent pressed against your husband, if he were amicable towards such a thing. You would soon find out, you supposed, as the sun was already beginning to dip below the rolling hills of the horizon.

The bed was a canopy, with thick golden curtains that were drawn – for the time being. You took a step towards them, ran your fingers over the fabric. It was velvet, with a pressed satin design which matched the wallpaper. It seemed as though Lord Ren had a very developed eye for decoration, you thought, letting your fingers run through the satin fringe that lined the curtains.

The sheets were the softest of cottons, pure white. You couldn’t wait to muss them.

Your husband stepped behind you, placed a hand on your waist. It was so large, warm. Even through the layers of your clothing you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Lord Ren – ” You started, turning around only to have him shake his head.

“Please, (Y/N), call me Kylo.” He interrupted softly, making you blush.

You didn’t know when the last time someone other than your parents called you by your first name was.

“Kylo,” You rectified, “Are you happy? With this arrangement, I mean.”

He looked at you for a little while, sun shining in his incredibly brown eyes. You wondered what he was thinking, what was going through his mind.

He carefully took one of your hands and placed the palm against his cheek, the one free of the scar. You furrowed your brow slightly, removed your hand, only to replace it with your other one. You cupped his other cheek, not minding in the slightest how the scar rippled and puckered the skin there.

“Yes, I daresay I am.” He said, his eyes searching yours. “Are you?”

“Yes, I am.” You nodded, sparing a glance down to his lips.

You hadn’t done much kissing, but you thought if ever there were a pair of lips to practice on, these were them. Kylo’s lips were so full, plush. They had a natural redness to them that made you wonder if he had spent his youth biting them to make them so pigmented.

Kylo’s own hand mirrored yours as he gently held your face and pressed his lips to yours. The first kiss outside of your wedding, and it was magical in its innocence.

It did not, however, remain innocent, as only mere moments passed before Kylo’s tongue was pressing against the seam of your lips, your mouth yielding to him, opening for him. You could feel your pulse quicken, and it suddenly seemed stifling, so hot in your dress. You wondered if Kylo was burning up as well.

“They’ll be waiting, won’t they?” Kylo said, breaking the kiss. He leaned his forehead against your own, and you nodded.

“Yes, they will. We’d do best to not disappoint them, wouldn’t you say?” You asked with the hint of a tease to your tone, licking your lips, already feeling the goosebumps down your arms.  

“I’ve wanted this for a long time.” Kylo quirked the smallest of smiles, ran his hands down your sides.

“I know we know very little of one another, but please know this: I won’t ever keep you in suspense.” You said, daring to press the words into the skin of his neck, leaving a kiss there before pulling away.

“Good, I don’t like to wait.” Kylo replied, heat in his eyes.

You grinned.

 You had never seen such a sculpted body as your husbands, but you would have a chance to marvel once the heat of your clothing was removed from your own body.

Getting Kylo out of his clothes was a fast affair.

Getting you out of yours, however, was slightly more laborious.

You sweetened the deal with a kiss, the sliding of your tongue against his spurred his hands.

Wasn’t the wedding night supposed to be a passionate affair? How could anyone get away with such a thing when there required at least ten minutes of unlacing and unhooking?

He first began by unclasping your belt and deftly unbuttoning the front of your dress bodice, sliding that and the jacket off of your shoulders, the both of you watching as it fluttered gracefully to the floor.

The skirt, a light petticoat, and all your underclothes remained, and Kylo just had to take a break to kiss you.

“I’ll never understand why there are so many layers.” Kylo grumbled as he carefully removed your corset cover, making you laugh so much that his hands stilled in shock.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t stop,” You said in a fit of giggles, “It’s just, neither will I.” You smiled up at him, earning a smile back.

You let out a sigh of relief when the corset came off, Kylo carefully plucking the strings away. It was never too tight of course, the hysteria and trends of tight-lacing long gone, but still, there was something so refreshing about letting yourself loose after a long day.

Down to your chemise, drawers and stockings, Kylo took a step back, kneeling before you.

His eye contact was smoldering, as he lifted the chemise enough to snap off the garters that held the stockings up. He took care to unlace the tie holding up your drawers, letting the cotton fall to the floor.

Your cunt throbbed, the wetness between your legs slippery. Kylo was handsome, kneeling there in front of you, his bare chest and hard cock on display.

You liked that he was hard, liked that he wanted you, really wanted you.

“Let me see you?” He asked, and your hands shook with eager anticipation as you pulled the chemise over your head, letting it fall as well.

Finally, you removed the pins that held your hair up, let it fall down with everything else. This act, letting your hair down, felt like the most intimate thing you had ever done.

You were completely on display for him, nipples hardening against the fresh air, stomach tensed with a nervousness reserved for a first fuck such as this.

“You’re gorgeous.” He licked his lips, hands twitching, wanting to touch you. You wanted nothing more than just that.

You walked backwards to the bed, stopping only when the backs of your knees hit the mattress.

Kylo was on you in an instant, finally finally finally able to get his hands on your skin.

He kissed and kissed you, mouth hot and incessant, pressing against your lips, your throat, your shoulders. His hands, large as they were, spanned across your breasts with ease, and he gave them a strong squeeze, pinched at those nipples of yours that were begging for attention.

He laid you down, settled himself on top of you, your legs parting for him so easily. You couldn’t help but grin, feeling the thrill of the moment. Your stomach was doing flips, like how it would on an automobile driving too quickly. You never wanted him to pump the brakes.

“Kylo, please.” You whined, wanting to feel him already.

“Not yet, I’ve got to get you ready for me.” He kissed your face, bit at your jaw just the slightest amount. It wouldn’t do to have marks on your skin, at least where they could be seen.

You were grateful for the high collars of fashionable dress.

“But – ” You protested with a frown, you wanted to feel him, all of him, right down to that cock of his that was poking and prodding at your stomach as he kneaded your chest.

“You see this?” He sat back on his heels, dipping the mattress.

You were laid on your back by now, on top of the covers, lace pillows propping up your head.

He took his dick in his hand, stroked it. You nodded, you did see it, you saw all of it, your mouth watering from it.

You rose onto all fours, crawled to where he kneeled.

“I see it.” You swallowed.

He his lip and nodded, a hand guiding the back of your head forward, until you were close enough to lick a stripe up the shaft, making him take in a sharp breath.

“There’ll be plenty of time for that,” Kylo said, pulling his cock away much to your disapproval, “I’ve got to prepare you, and fast, or I might just come all over these perfect tits of yours.”

“Would that be such a shame?” You asked, making him grin.

“Let me at least come in you first.” He reasoned, and you sighed dramatically, laying on your back theatrically.

From this view, you could see the blotches of flush blooming on his chest – and how muscular it was! You knew that the physique was undesirable for men of his status, but you couldn’t help but grow ever more wet for him, the way his abs flexed under his smooth skin.

The scar traveled down his face and shoulders onto his chest, shiny and white, long healed.  

You didn’t give any more thought to it as his fingers wasted little time sliding between your legs, the tips just barely grazing your folds.

He looked to you, cock dripping and hanging heavy between his legs, and you nodded, wanting to hurry the process along, desperately wanting to feel how full this would make you.

His fingers were thick, and when he thrust them into your cunt you let out a long oh at the feeling.

“Relax for me.” He murmured, his hair falling into his face.

You dropped your hips, not realizing how tense you had made them just out of sheer desperation. He bent down to kiss you, a droplet of sweat landing on your cheek, as he took advantage of your calm and pushed those fingers into you some more.

“Please Kylo, I can’t take much more of this.” You begged, and he huffed, clearly wanting to spend more time than you did with his fingers up your cunt, but he gave you what you wanted as he pulled away.

“If it’s too much, you tell me, okay?” He asked, and you nodded, eager, so eager.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of him lining himself up, the head of his cock parting your lips and sinking into you.

“Yes!” you gasped, head thrown back as he pulled you down the mattress by your hips, pulling you onto his cock.

“God damn,” Kylo breathed out, pushing his way into you further and further. “You’re so tight.”

“You’re so big!” You replied, making him laugh. You liked the sound of his laugh.

“I fucking told you, didn’t I?” He grinned up at you, eyes going glassy as his hips slowly started thrusting, trying to get deeper and deeper and deeper into you.

“Yeah, you did, come on give me more.” You encouraged, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his hips.

It felt so natural, so good, and you moaned, embarrassingly loud noises coming from your throat as he fucked you well and true.

His cock seemed to go on forever, and by the time he had managed to open you up all the way, slide his cock as deep into you as it could go, you were both panting from the exertion.

You held onto him, his shoulders, gripped at his back as he had to plant one of his feet on the floor to give himself the proper leverage to fuck you.

You latched your mouth to his neck, sucked and kissed there as you clenched around him, wanting to make this feel just as good for him as it did for you. You couldn’t believe how much the both of you were sweating, the noises that you were making.

Kylo was grunting like he was in pain, his face pinched up, mouth open. You kissed him, your hands groping his strong pectorals, pinching at his own nipples. You figured if it felt so good for you, it’d feel good for him too.

He let out a long low groan when you did that, reaching up to tweak one of yours playfully in return.

“Kylo!” You cried his name, and he did his best to fuck you and kiss you at the same time. “I’m going to – ”

He cut you off with a kiss. He was tall, you hadn’t realized how that might pose a problem; the poor man had to bend himself down just to reach your lips as his hips pistoned into you.

“Me too, just a minute longer.” He asked, and you nodded, tried your best.

His hips grew more and more erratic, his grip on your waist bruising. He was almost white-knuckled, fingers leaving a print when he pulled on away to reach down to your pussy, push between your folds and find your clit.

When he did, he rolled it between his fingers, making you shout out and come, your cunt clamping down around his cock, come gushing and making the most obscene of sounds. You felt like you were on top of the world, all of the nerves in your body alight with pleasure; you couldn’t stop crying out his name, a chant of Kylo spilling from your lips.

“Oh shit!” Kylo gasped as he ground his hips as far into you as they could go, bordering just shy of painful.

You had to wiggle and lift your hips to get a better angle, only allowing him to pump his come deeper into you. You could feel it, you swore you could, how hot it was, coursing through you.

Finally, it seemed like all the tension in his shoulders melted away, and he collapsed on top of you, crushing you under his chest from his height.

“Was it good?” Kylo asked, panted.

“Yes,” You replied with a hazy smile, “I’m going to want this all the time.”

“We’ll make the family very happy then,” Kylo smiled back, “All the heirs we’re going to have.”

You just laughed, and despite his hardened exterior, he laughed too.

Kylo pulled out eventually, fascinated by the sight of his come slowly dripping out of you. He pushed it back in before wiping his hand on the sheets, making you smile.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, even as he rubbed his cheek on your breast, settled his face down there against your skin, nose prodding your softened nipple.

He got comfortable, and you gently brushed his hair out of your face, combed your fingers through it. It was silky and soft, albeit a little wet from sweat.

“No, I’m still stuffed from the dinner.” You replied, and he hummed.

Kylo wedged a hand under your back, holding you.

The sun had officially gone below the horizon, and night time had arrived. You didn’t think you had ever seen this many stars, through the great big windows just opposite the bed.

In the light of the moon, Kylo’s back shone with cooling sweat. You traced patterns across the skin there with the lightest of touches.

“You’re not like anything I thought you’d be.” You admitted with a yawn.

“And what was that?” He asked, voice muffled by your skin.

“When your name is spoken, people tend to recoil in fear. I find nothing frightening about you.” You combed through his hair, pushed it back away from his face and neck, exposing an ear.

It was big, just like the rest of him. You gave it a gentle squeeze, and he huffed, clearly self-conscious.

“Careful now, it’s only been one day.” He hummed, before snuffling and breathing in your scent. “I could get used to this.”

“You can have me whenever you’d like, provided just one thing.” You mused.

“What’s that?” He left his other hand lightly squeeze at your other breast, the one he wasn’t currently using as a pillow.

“I get to have you whenever I’d like.” You grinned, and his shoulders shook with a gentle laugh.

“I think I can manage that.” He nodded, kissing your sternum. “I imagine I’d like to have you all over our rooms on our honeymoon.”

The honeymoon!

“Would you believe I completely forgot we were going on such a trip?” You thought out loud, making him chuckle. He was exceptionally affectionate, you were coming to find. “Do you mind me asking where we’ll be going? I’d like to pack accordingly.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He replied, but you were having none of that.

“Please?” You tried, feeling quite victorious when he let out a resigned sigh.

“Have you heard of the Titanic?” He asked, lifting his head and regarding you with a smile.

You were stunned, not knowing what to expect, but certainly not expecting that.

A surprise indeed.  

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

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! My apologies for it being so short, the future chapters to come will be much longer! 

Tag list for some pals (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!) @adamsnackdriver @dreamboatdriver @kyloxfem @imaginedreamwrite

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Dawn in Your Eyes Part 6

zaSummary: Alfie has little to no idea why Caroline ever gave him the time of day. The blind woman seemed far too sensible to even speak to him. But soon he finds himself falling helplessly in love.

Part 6: The sound of joy and gladness, the sound of a groom and the sound of a bride

           Waiting the week before one’s wedding was next to torture. Waiting that week without your significant other was even worse.

           “Honestly, mate, who the fuck would care if I went to see her?” Alfie lamented to his assistant.

           “Julia, probably,” Ollie answered.

           His employer gave him a look. “It were a rhetorical fucking question, you git.” He snapped, his eyes narrowing in irritation. “’Course I know she’ll give a fuck.”

           “It’s tradition. Sort of like a buildup to what’s to come. I think it’s nice.” Ollie shrugged.

           Alfie scoffed in response. “Ain’t nice. Life’s a drag without Caroline.” He muttered and stood up. “Tradition, tradition, tradition. I’ll follow these fucking traditions.” He jabbed a finger at his assistant. “But I’m only doing it for her sake, not to please Julia.”

           Ollie couldn’t help but smile. It was endearing to see Alfie so foolishly in love with his bride-to-be. Even in his frustration, Alfie couldn’t go two minutes without showing how devoted he was to Caroline. “You’ve gone a good portion of your life without her.” He pointed out a bit cheekily.

           Alfie’s face contorted first into anger but then into a bewildered smile. Indeed, he’d lived the majority of his life without even knowing Caroline existed. And in that time, he’d managed just fine. Never once complaining about being without a woman. But once he met her, his life had changed so drastically. He couldn’t imagine a week without her. He sighed and shook his head. “You’re right.”

           It was a bit reassuring, at least his boss wouldn’t kick off more. Ollie sat down across from him. “Don’t you think that this week sort of confirms everything? If it wasn’t a good match, then you wouldn’t want the week to pass by quickly. You’d be indifferent.”

           Alfie stroked a hand over his beard thoughtfully and nodded after a moment. “I know I’m making the right choice.” There was no way he would ever question his decision.

           “That’s what’s good about this week.”

           Ollie’s boss sighed and tousled the young man’s hair. “Go on, get outta here. Go home early.”

           He frowned. He couldn't remember the last time Alfie had sent him home early. “Sir?”

           “I’ll close up tonight, go on home.”

           Ollie smiled gratefully. His wife would be so pleased to have him home to help with dinner and the kids. “Thank you, sir.” He reached back to untie his apron and headed out of the office.

           Alfie leaned back in his desk chair and thought about his upcoming nuptials. It was thrilling. Knowing he’d be with Caroline the rest of their lives. Even if forever was a tiny bit frightening, he wouldn’t change it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Alfie was sweating. At least, he felt like he was. Maybe he wasn’t, it was hard to tell. The room was chilly so why would he be sweating? Maybe because he fully expected his bride-to-be not to show up. Maybe she’d skipped town to avoid him. Maybe she decided to elope with another man. Maybe she realized she deserved much better. All erroneous ideas that Alfie’s frantic mind conjured up. He liked to be assured with himself, it’s how he found most of his fortune. But Caroline was such a beautiful creature that seemed too good to be true.

           When Alfie woke up, realizing it was his wedding day, he assumed the worst all at once. Maybe he’d been too cynical for too long.

           Family members were waiting in the room along with Alfie, preparing for the Badeken. Ollie was nearby, trying to calm Alfie down as he paced. Finally, the wait was broken and the door opened. First, Elizabeth came in with a great big smile. Buck led her over to Richard and the two exchanged quiet words.

           But Alfie wasn’t paying attention to them. He felt like he’d been struck by lightning when he saw Julia leading Caroline in. Pilot walked beside her, on her left as always.

           The Jewish gangster’s knees went weak at the sight of her in a modest white gown, A long veil trailing after her. Alfie had to bite his tongue to stop himself from swearing out of surprise. No doubt Julia wanted to keep the moment pure.

           Caroline’s ash-brown hair was curled and pinned up underneath the veil and there was a glow about her that Alfie swore had to be holy. “You aren’t saying anything.” She murmured softly. “Do I look alright?” A hand subconsciously went to the satin skirt of her dress.

           “Oh love, I ain’t never seen such a gorgeous sight.” He murmured back, his voice catching. The emotions were so overwhelming he nearly forgot they were in a room full of people.

           Caroline found his hand. “You’re trembling.” She bit her lip.

           “I’m happy…I just never thought I’d be this lucky.” He replied and lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles.

           Julia cleared her throat, bringing the couple back to reality and back to tradition.

           “Right, sorry,” Alfie mumbled and let go of Caroline’s hand. He carefully lifted the veil and let it hang over her face. A great disservice as far as he was concerned but he knew it would be lifted soon enough. He lowered his head so he could whisper in her ear. “Wanna go get married now, love?”

           She giggled softly. “Of course.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           It had been a while since Alfie attended a wedding. In fact, Elizabeth and Richard’s may have been the last one. He couldn’t recall. Anyway, he had to brush up on some of the traditions. They weren’t all that complicated although he wanted to make sure things went right in Julia’s eyes. She wanted traditional.

           Elizabeth got some say in the wedding too. She insisted it be held on her and Richard’s property out in Surrey. A beautiful plot of land with sprawling lawns and a nice big estate to match. Julia thought it was a little too pompous but decided not to argue. Caroline seemed pleased with the idea of the ceremony being held outside. Even though it was getting well into fall, it was still sunny and warm enough to hold it outside.

           Alfie would’ve made everyone sit out in the snow if it meant Caroline was happy. But instead, they were given a beautiful crisp fall day. Perhaps another indicator from God that the match was meant to be.

           Alfie felt much more at ease once they were both under the chuppah. The nerves he had the entire week previously were subdued and he felt like he could actually breathe again. Caroline made it to the canopy with her aunt’s help along with Pilot. Once she was beside Alfie, Julia kissed her cheek and took the Newfoundland off to the side.

           As per tradition, Caroline began circling Alfie seven times. One hand held up the hem of her dress, the other touched Alfie to make sure she wasn’t walking off course. With each pass, she whispered a soft message of affection to her husband-to-be. He smiled and felt his heart swell with love and pride.

           Once the rite was finished. Alfie produced the ring from his pocket. It was a simple band, seeing as it was against Jewish law to have anything gaudy or showy under the chuppah. Nothing like the diamond he had waiting for her inside Elizabeth’s estate. Carefully locked away in the room they would spend time alone in.

           After the betrothal blessings, Alfie and Caroline listened to friends and family recite the Sheva Brachot. Not that Alfie wasn’t glad to listen to the beautiful blessings. He was just never a patient man and was itching to spend some time with his wife.

           Finally, Alfie had the pleasure of breaking a glass and the lawn erupted with happy bouts of congratulations. The couple would have to refrain from displays of affection until later. Alfie was sure he’d get an earful if he kissed his bride under the chuppah.

           “Mazel Tov, Alfie!”

           “Mazel Tov, Caroline!” The guests exclaimed as the two made their way from under the canopy. Alfie couldn’t get the big grin off his face as he held his wife’s hand. His wife. His perfect, gorgeous, Jewish, wife. The epitome of the woman his mother wanted him to end up with. He would be eternally happy now that he had the love of his life always by his side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Once they were freed from friends and family giving hugs and kisses, Alfie and Caroline escaped to one of the rooms upstairs in the estate. Once the door was closed, he scooped her up bridal style and kissed her. She was breathless, giggling euphorically against his lips.

           “Fucking hell, I thought I’d never get me hands on you.” He growled playfully. “Spend a whole fucking week waiting. Thought I were gonna have a heart attack.”

           Caroline laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck as he sat down on the edge of the bed with her resting on his lap. “Patience is a very good quality to have, Mr. Solomons.”

           “I ain’t ever been patient, Mrs. Solomons.” He replied and pulled her in for another deep kiss. He lost himself in her touch for a moment, completely high off the feeling. It had to be real because he’d never had such a wonderful dream before. Whent they parted, Alfie touched his forehead to hers. “Let’s just skip this reception, yeah? Commandeer a car and head back home.”

           Caroline smiled and shook her head firmly. “We have family and friends who came all this way.” She reminded him. "It would be extremely rude to leave them."

           “Well, they’ve seen the show, haven’t they? We did the ceremony, all the bells 'n whistles, right? They won’t miss us down there.” He drew her in for another kiss.

           She laughed and playfully pushed his face away, knowing he was trying to convince her to leave. “I’m fairly sure they’ll notice the bride and groom missing. It is our wedding after all, silly man.”

           He made a sound of displeasure and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

           “We’ll have all the time in the world together. You can’t put on a smile for one night?” She murmured.

           He grunted but caved in, lifting his head. “If it’ll make you happy.”

           Her gray eyes were shining with adoration. “It will.”

           “Alright, then. I’ll put on a smile.”

           She lifted her hands to touch his cheeks. Her fingers brushed over the creases in his skin as he smiled, the scruffiness of his beard, and the lingering scar across his right cheek. “You’re so beautiful.” She murmured.

           Overwhelmed with love, Alfie couldn’t get any words out. He simply lifted her hand and kissed her palm. He thought it was perfect how he was able to cradle his entire world in his arms. Because that’s what Caroline was from there on out. His entire world.  

taglist: @zazasblogxx​ @thinkingsofamadwoman​

Masterlist 

[starlitsummermoon]

The Black Knight of Stein

Part 1: Nightmare in Black

Story Rating: ADULT 18+ Pairing: Byron Wagner X Kyshimi (MC) Word Count: 5498 Story Summary:  Heading off to Stein for a much needed vacation with her future husband, Kyshimi finds it hard to relax while she’s being plagued with nightmares of a monstrous black wolf. When she arrives during Stein’s most celebrated festival of the year, all the pieces start falling into place, but the most important pieces are still missing. Digging through history, she hopes to find an answer before she’s hunted down. Part 1 is also on Ao3!

[A/N]: Kyshimi is pronounced (kee-shee-mee). This chapter contains no SMUT... but the next one certainly does. I plan on making these chapters long, but I promise I put a lot of work into them and they’re worth it, so bare with me! Part 2 is in the works!

Piercing through the canopy of the forest, rays of sunlight lit the grassy floor at its roots. Birds and deer darted in and out of sight as a woman wistfully skipped in between the trees. Time slowed, each leap and bound lasted forever before her bare foot felt the cooling comfort of the earth beneath her. Following the hidden path, guided by the setting sun, her lips yielded a grin each time she felt the fading heat of the sun on her face.

Farther and farther she skipped, the foliage smoothly transitioned from deep, cooling greens to bright, warm reds. The air grew frigid, her breath visible with each bound. Long grass no longer brushed against the hem of her pure white gown for it vanished with the greens, instead debris of crunchy leaves scattered around her feet.

Without warning, the sky grew angry and dark as the leaves were whisked away by a harsh breeze, leaving the ground bare and cold. The trees became unsettling, their sharp branches piercing the dark clouds above them as they swirled with mighty force. Her skin now ice, her smile left with the leaves as dread seeped into her body. A sharp pain at the back of her head, she dared to glance behind her, wisps of her hair catching in her eyes.

It was following her!

An enormous, pitch black mass sprinted through the trees behind her, swiftly closing the gap with powerful lunges, baring its fangs. Its large white eyes narrowed down to slits as its pointed ears pinned back into the thick, dark mane protecting its neck. Dagger-like claws dug into the earth, throwing twigs and stones behind as it neared its target. Closer and closer it got, the hot, wet breath nearly caressed the back of her neck.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she tried to scream, but nothing came out. Only seconds of a glimpse was all it took to keep her legs going, but her body wouldn’t move any faster. With tears clouding her vision, she tripped over a large root of a tree. Slamming into the ground, her arms and elbows stung as her teeth bit down on her bottom lip in a weak attempt to subdue the pain.

Ice swept over her, turning back to witness wide open jaws swallow her.

Kyshimi shot up, a loud gasp escaping her lungs as adrenaline pulsed through her limbs. Her gaping eyes carefully examined her surroundings. The warmth of the morning sun bled through lace curtains, giving solidity to her furniture. The many bottles of perfume atop her vanity shone, dozens of pairs of earrings sparkled, and the many folds and wrinkles of her sheets formed mountains and valleys.

A deep sigh of relief blew from her lips, now convinced that she was in the safety of her chambers, protected by the warmth of her bed. Lowering her head, her mess of ebony hair flowed over her shoulders and nearly down into her lap where her hands rested, still shaking from the vivid imagery of razor sharp fangs sinking into her.

Throwing one corner of her sheets aside, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, her toes reaching down to feel the cold marble of her floor. Gripping the edge of her mattress, she continued to stare down at her pure white nightgown, her arms shaking.

“That dream again,” she whispered hoarsely to herself, “why do I keep having that dream about that━” An image of nightmare mass flashed in her mind. She swallowed a hard lump in her throat before muttering, “...wolf.” A shiver trickled over her skin, her hands instinctively wrapping around herself, rubbing the back of her arms to warm back up, but it was hard to shake the fear that had been haunting her for several weeks now.

With a hefty sigh, she pulled herself up on her feet and made her way to her vanity. Sitting in front of her enormous mirror, she clearly saw the dark circles underneath her eyes. Tugging at her cheeks and leaning in for a closer look, she groaned. She was to leave to Stein in a day’s time and she hardly looked presentable enough to leave her chambers.

“I’m such a mess,” she vexed, snatching her hair brush. “I can’t let Giles see me like this or he’ll never let me go.” Fixing her hair and applying a bit of makeup helped hide the dark circles, but her eyes gave everything away, and no amount of jewelry or perfume could distract from them. Another attempt was made with the choice of dress, a long frilly skirt and a blouse to match. 

Twirling around in the mirror, the dark color brought a smile to her face. It was autumn afterall, her favorite season, and not only that, but she had been invited to Stein’s All Hallows Eve Festival as King Byron’s honored guest. She was a bit sad that for the first time in her life, she would be missing out on Halloween in Wysteria, but according to Nico and Albert, the All Hallows Eve Festival was a significant holiday in Stein and celebrated a bit differently than most countries.

The mere thought of it was exciting to her as she tried to imagine what it could be like and how different it could be compared to how she was used to celebrating Halloween. Besides being a couple of days long, she couldn’t imagine Halloween being spent any other way; spooky decorations and children running through the streets collecting candy.

Now ready for the day to begin, she took one last glance in the mirror. The distracting thoughts of Halloween and being with Byron cheered her up, nearly forgetting all about dark circles and the nightmarish black mass. She knew, however, that she couldn’t ignore it forever. Thoughts bubbled inside her stomach, ready to burst.

‘I wish Byron was here… he would know what to do, or at least, know what to say.’

Placing herself at her small desk in the corner of her room, she pulled out her ink and quill along with a thick piece of paper. Taking in a deep breath, her quill hovered over the paper as she questioned herself.

‘Should I really be writing to him about this? Is this something he should really be bothered with?’

She felt like a pest whenever she bothered Byron with her personal problems knowing how busy he was as King, but he always seemed to get upset with her if she bottled everything up without even talking to him about it. He always knew what to say to comfort her, what to do to make the situation better, but she wanted to try handling this on her own.

“It’s...fine,” she said with an unconvincing smile, “I’ll just write it and not send it.” Re-dipping her quill, she scratched against the paper with its tip.

‘My Dearest Byron,

I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night when I arrive. I’ve missed you terribly. Unfortunately, I haven’t been sleeping very well as of late. My dreams have been plagued with nightmares leaving me with restless nights for the last several weeks. What’s odd is that it’s the same dream, over and over. 

They’re becoming more vivid each time, convincing me that it may be real. Because of this, it’s getting difficult for me to feel safe unless I’m locked away in my chambers. I know that’s not healthy, but I don’t know what to do about this anymore. I feel so lost…

 I’m hoping to find solace in your embrace and comfort in your sheets. I await to feel your lips again.

With all my love,

Kyshimi’

Folding it up nicely, she even placed her silver waxed seal over the golden thread that held the parchment together. Ready to be sent with haste, she instead placed it back in the drawer, never to be seen by the receiver's eyes.

Her day was ending early, heading towards her chambers with haste as Giles followed closely behind, summarizing the days events with verbal footnotes. Mesmerized by the patterns of the marble tile and the sounds of her clacking heels, her advisor’s words fell on deaf ears for her thoughts were elsewhere. It was hard to focus with such little sleep for so long.

“Princess Kyshimi?” Giles’s voice echoed down the corridor, loud enough to catch her attention. She stopped, turning her gaze up at him with drooping eyelids. The sight of her worn out expression caught him off guard as it was the first time he had gotten a good look at her face today. “My word! Princess, are you━”

“I’m fine, Giles,” Kyshimi harshly cut him off, facing down the hall to continue her way towards the safety of her chambers. “I just… haven’t been getting very good sleep as of late. Now, as you were saying, when am I scheduled to leave for Stein tomorrow?”

The corner of Giles’ mouth curled unpleasantly in the tuck of his cheek, hesitantly waiting for the Princess to get a few steps ahead of him. He hadn’t been talking about tomorrow’s schedule at all. Clearing his throat, he decided to match her pace and walk at her side again, trying to get a better assessment of her condition, “Ahem, you’re scheduled to leave just after breakfast with Sir Alyn as your escort, but Your Highness…”

“Yes, Giles?”

“...I believe a change in plans are necessary. I shall escort you to Stein in Sir Alyn’s stead.”

“Nonsense, you need to run the country in my stead while I’m away.”

“We’ll return in just a few days, that shouldn’t be bothersome to Leo or Duke Howard if we simply━” Giles’ words faded into silence as Kyshimi grew cold. All of a sudden, he was changing the plans for everything. She was scheduled to be gone for several weeks in order to “learn, understand, and get well-acquainted with King Byron and the people of Stein before she becomes Queen,” or as she liked to think of it, a nice long vacation with King Byron. During this time, Giles was supposed “run” Wysteria in her place to the best of his ability while Alyn accompanied her during her travel’s leaving and returning to the castle. Nico, and occasionally, Albert, were set to be her personal attendants and guards during her stay at Stein castle.

Carefully gathering her thoughts, she took a deep breath and faced Giles with a large, concern-free grin and asked, “Why are you so worried? We’re not changing the plan. You’re staying here while I’m staying Stein for a much-needed vacation, remember?”

“Of course, Princess,” Giles sighed, matching her quickened pace perfectly, “it’s just… I’m worried. I didn’t realize the state you were in… are you sure you don’t want to shorten your stay? Or have me accompany you?”

“I’m 110% sure, Giles. Besides, this will be good for me. I’ll be on a much needed vacation while learning about Stein at the same time. According to Nico, this one of their biggest festivals of the year. It would be foolish to miss out on this opportunity.”

“Excellent point, Your Highness, but━”

“AAND, I wouldn’t want to disappoint any of the monarchs and bureaucrats who are expecting to meet me during my stay, now would I?”

Giles was left speechless. Expressionless, he gazed down at the Princess as they finally arrived at her chamber doors, her smile almost sincere enough to hide her exhaustion. Realizing he wasn’t going to win this battle, he chuckled to himself, ‘Of all times for my tutoring to take effect…’

“Princess, you’re absolutely correct,” he boasted confidently followed by a deep bow, “Please, forgive my doubt in our future Queen. Now, as you requested, your maids packed little for you, as per your request.”

“Yes,” she nodded in agreement, “King Byron informed me that my wardrobe will be taken care of entirely, including anything that I wish to purchase while I’m there.”

“An excellent method in getting acquainted with their fashion, Princess. Just be sure to take a few minutes and pack any personal items you wish to bring along with you. I’ll take my leave now, so please get to bed early and get some much needed rest. We want our precious Princess looking presentable for the King of Stein tomorrow. Goodnight, Princess.”

With a small curtsey in response, Kyshimi watched Giles until he turned down the corridor, finally leaving her to be alone once more, a rare occurrence since Nico decided to remain in Stein after she had announced her engagement to King Bryon. She enjoyed it, though, not having an attendant or an advisor glued to her side for several hours a day, despite the fact that she missed Nico’s companionship.

Locking her door behind her, a wave of relief washed over her as she released a huge sigh from her chest, her back sinking against the door as she did so. The large room was tranquil and quiet, no maids, no attendants, and no responsibilities. Walking to the center of her room, she looked around at her belongings which were starting to become glazed with the light of dusk. Nothing popped. Everything she would need is already waiting for her in her chambers at Stein castle, there wasn’t any personal item that needed to come with her.

Her eyes slowly drifted to the small desk in the corner of her room where a letter to her beloved hid in the confines of the drawer. Fiddling with her fingers, she crept up to the desk, slowly pulling the drawer open until she saw the glint of the silvery wax seal. Placing the letter atop the desk, she stared at it, remembering the words she wrote.

Keeping her eyes on the letter, she backed away until she felt the edge of her bed hit the back of her legs. Sinking into the edge, her feet hovered above the floor as she flopped back onto her fluffy comforter.

“Even if I were to send it now,” she whispered, her eyelids growing heavier as she stared at the blank ceiling, “Byron wouldn’t get it in time.” She shook her head lightly. “No, I don’t want him to worry. Everything will be better when I see him tomorrow.”

A shadow swept across her room. Her eyes shot back open. Bolting back up, her head pounded from the rush, struggling to listen for any foreign sounds as she analyzed her room once again. The windows were all shut, the balcony door was closed, and none of her curtains were moving. No breeze, no draft. She turned back to look at her door, ensuring it was still closed. It was, and she clearly remembered locking it.

The shadow returned, swiftly traveling across her room before it vanished. It was from outside. Her head snapped towards her balcony door, the lacey curtains burning from the light of dusk, the shadows from the tops of surrounding trees were starting to bleed up from the bottom. She didn’t blink, afraid she was going to miss it again. With a swoosh, the shadow passed the balcony door once again, its wings fluttering as it neared the glass before flying away, trying to enter her room before seeing there was no way in.

“Spinner!” Kyshimi gasped, hopping off her bed and to the balcony doors. Swinging them open, she dashed outside, the chilled breeze of autumn kissing her face as she looked up to the tree tops. The heavy contrast of Spinner’s snow-white feathers against the orange and red leaves of the canopy made him easy to spot. Reaching her hands up into the air, the Princess couldn’t hold back a small amount of tears and a large smile as she called out to him, “Spinner!”

Gracefully descending from the sky, Spinner silently swooped passed the Princess and entered her chambers, landing on the wooden post of her sofa; his favorite perch. Carefully following him inside, Kyshimi sat on the sofa, soothing stroking his feathers as he rested.

“It’s so nice to see you, Spinner,” she said softly, scratching a spot right under the owl’s beak, “Did Byron send you to check in on me?” Byron often sent Spinner to check in on her during their extended periods apart, sometimes including a letter or a small note. This time there was none. 

With yet another sigh, which she made a mental note to cut back on in Stein, she happily held out her arm for the bird, who gently grasped it as she stood up and paced around her room, placing featherlight kisses on his beak as she did so. This was routine each time Spinner came to visit.

The sweet comfort of the large bird’s appearance allowed her to finally relax for the first time in days and the reality of her leaving to be in Stein with Byron hit her hard.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” the Princess whispered, “but I can’t help but feel anxious, Spinner.” The owl’s head spun around, getting a good glimpse of the room. “I’m excited to see Byron again, there’s so much I need to talk about with him, but I don’t want to burden him with my problems… is that fair of me? To assume he doesn’t want to hear about my problems, or to assume that he even has time to hear them, being a busy King…?”

The large bird started preening some of his feathers, forcing a small laugh from the Princess’ lips as she gently shook her head. She knew full well that he couldn’t understand what she was saying, and if he could, it’s not like he could repeat her words to Byron. He wasn’t a parrot afterall. Glancing back at the balcony, she was ready to send him off.

“Sorry, Spinner,” she shrugged, keeping the smile on her face, “there’s no letter I wish to send this time, so I’ll see you━ AAH!” Spinner flapped his large wings, releasing his grasp on her arm without harm and flew across her room. He landed on the desk in the corner, his feet pinning the letter. Reaching down, he picked at the golden thread until he firmly had it in his beak. Kyshimi gaped in panic.

“No, Spinner!” she blurted, afraid to move in case it frightened him and he flew off, but it was too late. With a hefty thrust of his wings, the owl flew out the open balcony door with the letter in hand. Darting after him, she could do nothing but watch from the door as he flew away, most likely back to Stein. There was no sense in calling for him, he was too far gone now.

“Damn that smart bird,” she muttered, leaning against the frame of the door.

The carriage left for Stein on schedule the following morning and was now entering the forest dividing the two countries. Sir Alyn Crawford pushed the group of knights surrounding the carriage into the forest without hesitation, constantly on his guard for anyone or anything that had intentions of harming Princess Kyshimi during her journey to Stein Castle. Riding directly next to the carriage as his trusted knights led the entourage and trailed behind, he still kept his eyes and ears open for anything suspicious.

Meanwhile, inside the carriage itself, Princess Kyshimi leaned her head against the window, watching the passing scenery change from villages to open hills to thick forests. A normally soothing way to pass the time on her way to Stein, but she couldn’t relax.

Spinner had taken the letter to Byron. She blamed herself because Spinner was accustomed to delivering letters to Byron from her even if he hadn’t sent one to start each time he flew in for a check up. She concluded the bird knew what her letters looked like and assumed she would want it delivered. A foolish mistake on her behalf.

‘I never should have even written the letter to begin with. I should’ve just waited until I saw him. Why did I write the letter?!’

Her eyelids fluttered, the scenery outside began to blur as she yawned. The rocking of the carriage and the numbing sound of over a dozen horses trodding the already beaten path enticed her body and mind enough to let her guard down just enough to leave her consciousness in a sleep-driven daze.

Just as she was about to surrender to sleep, a sharp pain crept up on the back of her head, threatening to become a full-blown migraine. Straightening up her posture from the sudden discomfort, she started to feel an icy chill consume her fingers and toes. Looking down at her hands, she spread out her fingers and clenched them into fists, over and over to prove to herself she wasn’t going crazy.

“So odd…” she commented to herself, turning her hands over and spreading her fingers out once more, “this… this almost reminds me of━” A quick flash of nightmare-black with white fangs and blood-thirsty eyes entered her mind for the briefest moment. Her entire body froze, terrified to glance out the window to confirm her suspicions.

“I-it’s only a dream,” she shivered, muttering under her breath as she turned to look out the window, trees and shrubbery blurring in and out of view, “it’s only a dream. It’s only a d-dream. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s. NOT. REAL!”

The carriage abruptly came to a halt, Kyshimi flying forward out of her seat and landing in the cushions of the bench across from her. Several horses outside starting braying, their riders, noble Knights of Wysteria, starting shrieking in panic. Before she had a moment to collect herself, Alyn flung open the door of the carriage.

“Princess!” he shouted in alarm as he found her nearly on the floor. With one, heavy step, he entered to assist her back onto her seat, her hair all over her face. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she flipped her hair back and did her best to fix it, pulling strands that had caught in her mouth out, “but what happened? Why did we stop?”

“I’m about to find out,” Alyn stepped back out, “I just needed to make sure you were all right after that rough stop.” Without leaving her side, Alyn waited for one of his knights to bring him a report as he still stood in front of the entrance to the carriage. He refused to leave the Princess’s side knowing something dangerous could happen any second.

“Captain!” a knight shouted as he and his horse cantored towards Alyn and the Princess.

“What happened?!” Alyn demanded, “Are we being ambushed?”

“No, Sir!” the knight’s horse nearly skidded to a halt, the creature still spooked, “the horses at the front just got spooked bad. Same with the knights riding them.”

“Spooked? By what?!”

“I.. I don’t know.”

Alyn’s brow furrowed in frustration as he glanced back at Kyshimi and mumbled, “Wait here.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” the Princess stood up from her seat and smoothed out any wrinkles in her skirt, “I’d rather come with you. I want, no, I need to know what your knights have to say about this.” Her stern expression commanded no quarrel as she stepped out of the carriage, ready to follow whoever was willing to lead her to the spooked knights. 

Pressing his lips together into a thin line, Alyn simply nodded. He could understand why the Princess would be upset with a possibly foolish delay, but he was wrong. The chills and the pain in the back of her head, she had to know what happened. She needed proof from these knights that what she felt wasn’t real and was just apart of her imagination and sleep depravity.

The knight on the horse turned around and led the way towards the front of the formation, where a group of knights were sitting on a log on the edge of the road, their horses on the other side of the road being soothed by other knights. As they got closer, Alyn could see more horses and knights than they had brought with them on their mission, except these horses were all black along with their respective riders. Worried, the Captain protectively placed himself in front of the Princess, ready to draw his sword, but the closer they got, the better he could see familiar faces.

“Looks like Stein came to meet us half-way,” Alyn confirmed, turning his head towards the Princess in hopes of reassuring her. Excited, Kyshimi ran ahead to see who had arrived with the Stein knights. Standing before the Wysterian knights that were resting on the log aside the road was Albert and Nico.

“Princess Kyshimi!” Nico was the first take notice of her. “Are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No, Nico, I’m fine!” she smiled, holding back the happy tears threatening to stream down her face. She was so happy to see Nico, it took everything else she had to hold back a hug, even though most of the people around them knew about their friendship.

“Are you certain?” Albert stoically interjected, nearly pushing Nico out of the way.

“Very certain, Al,” she smiled, her body relaxing in the presence of Byron’s most trusted knights. With a quick glance around, Byron was nowhere to be seen. A twinge of disappointment was felt in her chest, but it was easily ignored. These two were more than enough comfort to last her until she saw him in Stein.

“We heard the commotion just before we caught up to you,” Nico reported, his expression more serious than it ever had been before, turning his attention to the Wysterian Captain. “We arrived as soon as we could.”

“We appreciate that,” Alyn nodded his head in gratitude, “I was just about to find out what the cause of the commotion was.” Only a few feet away from him sat the knights, still shaking with fear.

“S-sorry, Captain,” one of the knights shamefully looked up to Alyn, meeting his questioning gaze, “but I've never s-seen anything like it before!”

“What exactly did you see?” Alyn’s eyes narrowed, getting down on his knee to meet the gazes of his frightened men.

“A b-beast!” the knight shuddered.

“No! A monster!” the knight next to him shrieked. “I thought I was seeing things, Captain, but it’s there!”

“What did it look like?” Alyn asked, his tone a bit more comforting than before. “Can you give us any details?”

“Black,” a knight said flatly, his eyes cold, “black, and larger than any bear. I could barely see his eyes, but his… his teeth! His teeth could probably tear our armor apart. It almost looked like… a wolf. A giant, monsterous wolf.”

“Okay, anything else━”

The group’s words had faded as Kyshimi’s body became numb. It was everything she feared. They saw it. They saw the creature from her nightmare, it was real, and it was following her!

Just like it had in her dreams.

The world around her grew dark. Her knees started to shake, begging her legs to start running, but where? The beast could be anywhere in the forest. She was afraid to look up, afraid she would see its eyes staring right into her soul before it━

“Kyshimi?”

Nico placed a comforting arm over the Princess’s shoulder, taking notice of her suddenly solemn expression. Snapping back to reality, she felt the warmth from his touch and smiled at him, but her smile quickly disappeared and she gently pushed his arm off of her.

“What are you and Albert doing here, anyway?” her question was spoken louder than she had intended, catching the attention of both Captains. “It’s not normal for you to meet us half-way, I mean, you never have before.”

“His Majesty, King Byron, deemed it necessary that myself, along with a carefully selected group of knights, assist in escorting our future queen to Stein’s castle steps,” Albert expertly answered, adjusting his glasses as he glanced over at Nico, “not all participants were my choice, but we all happily obliged.”

Kyshimi lowered her gaze, thinking that Byron must’ve received her letter in time, sending his own entourage to escort her to him. Swallowing back her tears, she lifted her head back up and met Albert with a grateful grin. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Alyn’s disapproval written all over his face.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Albert responded to Alyn’s silent protest, “King Byron does not doubt your abilities to safely deliver the Princess to him. Instead, his concern lies with the fact that this is her first time traveling to Stein as his future Queen, therefore he deemed it wise to send extra escorts.”

“If you say so,” Alyn shrugged, his disapproval disappearing, “I won’t question my future King.” The two captains began to discuss formation changes peacefully, leaving Nico the opportunity to lead Kyshimi back to her carriage, holding out his arm for her.

‘That’s a good cover story,’ she thought to herself, certain that it was because he had received her letter the night before. Gripping Nico’s arm firmly, the knights around them began taking their places in the new formation. The rush of black and white horses around them seemed a bit overwhelming as she held Nico a bit closer.

“I wonder what the knights really saw,” Nico pondered, weaving himself and the princess in between the busy knights and horses.

“What do you mean?” Kyshimi snapped her gaze at him, an eyebrow raised in question as her heart sank into her stomach. The knights saw exactly what she had been seeing in her dreams, she had no doubt it was real now. “You heard what they said, it was a giant, b-black wolf.”

“You really believe that?” there was a hint of a chuckle in Nico’s response. “C’mon, Kyshimi, I was there with you when you did your studies with Leo. There aren’t any wolves in Stein or Wysteria, or even the surrounding countries. There hasn’t been for centuries.”

“Okay…” she knew he was right as she recalled the lessons she had with Leo. Wolves were located in the western-most part of the continent, nowhere near Stein or Wysteria, but her dreams and what the knights described stuck with her. “Then how do you explain what they saw?”

“It easily could have been a bear. Bears can get pretty big, maybe your knights haven’t seen one in a while. They usually stay away from large, loud groups of people like this. Maybe they scared him, eh?”

Nico’s reasoning comforted her to a point, but the feeling in her gut wouldn’t leave. The situation was too convenient. Remembering her vivid dreams, she mentally looked over the creature she had seen over and over again, questioning if she had really been dreaming about a bear instead.

‘No… it’s a wolf, I have no doubt about that…. But what the men saw….’

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nico leaned in, his lips almost touching her earrings. She heard him very clearly, but her eyes were too busy scanning the trees surrounding her, careful not to seem frazzled to the knights around her, especially the captains. Feeling a cold chill on the other side of her body, she looked towards the forest on that side, and for a moment, she thought she saw a large, black mass flee from sight in the distance.

It was still here.

“Nico,” her grip on his arm tensed, “will you please accompany me in the carriage?”

“Of course,” Nico smiled with relief, “but are you sure you don’t… want…” His words trailed off, his eyes meeting hers. Her cheeks trembled and her teeth bit down on her lip, wordlessly pleading with him. An odd sense of knightly duty came over him as he sternly answered her, “As you wish, Princess.”

With every knight in his place, Albert and Alyn on either side of the carriage and Nico sitting directly across from Princess Kyshimi, the journey to Stein Castle continued. This time, with the carriage curtains pulled over each window. 

During the ride, Nico excitedly caught up with Kyshimi with all that has happened since they last saw one another. He barely let her get a word in, afraid she was going to look at him with those pleading eyes again. The conversations they had easily distracted her for most of the ride, filling the small space with laughter and excitement. Each time any thought of the black beast tried to enter her mind, she immediately thought of Byron and the safety of his arms which she longed for. Her worries, she hoped, would subside during her time in Stein.

As the entourage exited the forest into Stein, the large, black-furred creature watched from afar until it could no longer see the knights trailing behind the Princess’s carriage, daring not to leave the shadowy cover of the forest… yet.