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kpopfanfictrash · 10 months

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Until Death (M)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Contributor:@baebae-goodnight for this unbelievable moodboard truly, like, WHAT

Genre: Green Bone Saga!AU || Organized Crime / Forbidden Romance / Suspense + Action

Author’s Note: This one shot is set in the Green Bone Saga universe, written by Fonda Lee. You do not need to have read this series in order to read this one shot (I explain concepts/terms), but I do HIGHLY encourage you to read this series at some point because it’s absolutely amazing!! Anyways, Yoongi dropped the Haegeum MV and I was like.... did he read Jade City lol. Further disclaimer this is not a retelling of the books, nor does the Kaul family exist in this version of Kekon (although the No Peak clan does)

Pairing: Yoongi / Reader

Synopsis: Jade has always shaped the island of Kekon. Mined from the mountains, it enhances the abilities of Green Bone warriors who wear it and allows them protection from outside harm. No one understands these threats better than you do, second-in-command of the mighty No Peak clan.

When a new danger appears, seeming to come from within, everything you once took for granted is called into question. Including the bonds you’ve made, some more dangerous than the others. None more so than Min Yoongi, head of No Peak and the only one capable of destroying your heart.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: graphic violence, fight scenes and mature content (character dies in the story; not main character)

NSFW Warnings: dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, spanking, oral (female), multiple orgasms, possessiveness, unprotected sex (couple is monogamous), spit, hand job

Word Count: 17,650

[ Cross-posted to Wattpad here ]

“There’s a rat in our midst,” Jungkook growls, slamming his fist to the table.

No one in the room flinches, although several glance fleetingly in the direction of the Pillar. The typically mild-mannered head of No Peak frowns, clearly disturbed by the recent attacks. Only a madman wouldn’t be.

Still, his voice remains calm while answering your second Fist. “That remains to be seen,” Yoongi says. As though the current situation could be perceived as anything but a threat.

Subtle, you flick a glance towards him, then away. In the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi’s lips curve before smoothing to nothing. Lowering his palms to rest on the table, the ends of his sleeves rise to reveal solid jade.

Leaning back, you survey the table before you. As the Horn of No Peak, it’s your job to defend the clan’s territory – by force, if necessary. Several levels of Green Bone warriors report into you, including your Fingers (the lowest of soldiers) and Fists, your direct reports.

Jungkook became Second Fist only a month prior but already, he’s created a name for himself. An impulsive, somewhat violent name for himself.

In this case though, you happen to agree with him. Not one, but two Lantern Men – commercial patrons of No Peak – have turned up dead in the past week, tortured beyond recognition. Over a week has passed since the first murder and still, there’s no suspect. Neither man was wealthy nor wore jade beyond a single piercing. Each was killed in a different part of town with no family in common. For a week, you’ve been racking your brain for motive and coming up empty.

Peeved by the thought, your fingertips dig into your leather jacket. Perceiving the shift to your aura, Yoongi starts to turn – catching himself just in time and facing forward.

An assortment of Lantern Men, Fists and Luckbringers (the money-making side of the clan) sit around a worn table. All watch the Pillar warily, as though uncertain how this meeting will end.

Tilting his head, strands of dark hair fall across Yoongi’s forehead. Studs of green line his ears, a single bolt of jade threaded through his right brow. Since the Academy, Yoongi has preferred to wear his jade as piercings – except for the clusters on fingers and wrists. He flexes these now, a visual display of power.

Jade from the island of Kekon is powerful; toxic to all but the Green Bones trained to wear it. To them, it grants unique power in each of the six disciplines: Strength, Steel, Perception, Lightness, Deflection and Channeling. Being from Kekon is no guarantee a person can wear and use jade, though. Individual tolerance varies, with most not able to withstand more than a few pieces.

No one in No Peak wears more jade than the Pillar – no one but you, that is.

This thought brings little comfort in a room such as this. Most of the sycophants seated around the table would turn on Yoongi – and No Peak – in a heartbeat. If it’d enrich their coffers, they would switch sides, honor be damned. You trust your Fists and Fingers but find it hard to extend the same grace to Namjoon’s side of the clan.

Kim Namjoon, known as the Weather Man, heads No Peak’s monetary ventures. Ranking as highly as you, he reports directly to Yoongi. Turning to face Namjoon, you make no attempt to hide your suspicion.

Although he doesn’t meet your gaze, his annoyance flares. Namjoon’s jade aura is weaker, fueled by one or two jade rings on his fingers. More would be unnecessary in his line of work. Namjoon’s lips tighten, able to Perceive your attention.

Perception is one of the more interesting skills of a Green Bone. Wearing jade creates an aura and through it, other Green Bones can sense emotion and intention. For example, you sense that Namjoon is annoyed, but you don’t know why. You can hazard a guess, based on the context.

Although you both graduated from the Academy at the same time, you barely knew Namjoon in your youth. The Kim family is legendary, having fought alongside Yoongi’s grandfather to dispel the Shotarian occupation of Kekon. You, on the other hand, moved to the city of Janloon when you were ten and joined the Academy as an outsider.

Not only were your social circles different, so were your interests. Even as children, Namjoon preferred brains over brawn, while you – well, you don’t enjoy violence, but you understood its necessity in protecting those you love. Ever since your father’s death, what you love has been No Peak.

You suppose Yoongi could’ve picked a worse person for Weather Man. Namjoon is shrewd, if occasionally withholding. He has the best interests of the clan at heart, even if you often disagree about what those interests are.

“Min-jen,” Namjoon says, the respectful title flowing from him like water. “I share your frustration with the current situation. My men are, of course, at your disposal.”

Your gaze narrows on his profile. Namjoon loves to offer help but when push comes to shove, it’s your side of the clan on the front lines.

“And what will your men do?” you inquire, drawing heads your way. “The entirety of their green couldn’t be seen in a desert.”

Someone down the table coughs, although they swiftly fall silent when Yoongi clears his throat. Disappointment radiates from him, turning his head.

“One’s worth to the clan isn’t measured in jade,” he says levelly. “You’d do well to remember that, in the future.”

Sitting back, you school your expression to nothing. Shame swirls in your stomach though because Yoongi is right. His sister is a stone-eye; someone unable to use or wear jade. Yejun feels nothing of jade’s effects – either positive or negative – but serves the clan in her own way. Kekon is superstitious about such things though and, when Yejun was born, rumors ran rampant it boded ill for Yoongi’s leadership. Rumors the Pillar has done his best to stamp out.

“Yes, Min-jen,” you acquiesce, inclining your head.

“My Luckbringers are reviewing financial statements of the victims,” Namjoon says, as though you haven’t spoken. “If there’s any monetary connection between them, we’ll find it.”

“My Fists are also investigating,” you add. “We’ll keep the clan updated.”

A scoff from the lower end of the table. Turning your head, you find Mr. Hu, a wealthy Lantern Man, watching you with a scowl. Middle-aged, with a portly belly from hoji, the man has never accepted you as his Horn. As the first woman bestowed the honor, you expected there to be some resistance.

Not that it endears him to you. Sweetly, you smile and lean forward. “Did you have something to add, Mr. Hu?”

Briefly, his gaze drops to the jade around your throat. Forcing a swallow, he forces his gaze to lift. You must give him credit; the man continues, despite the visual reminder you could kill him in seconds.

“Investigating what?” he asks, puffing out his chest. “I saw the second victim being brought in. There was… well. There was little to see. Tortured,” he adds, addressing the muttering around the table. “The man was mercilessly tortured before he was killed.”

Perceiving the shift in Yoongi’s emotions – edging towards fury – you hasten your response.

“Mr. Hu,” you say, lightly resting your hand on a Talon knife. “I thank you, for having the foresight to raise such an important issue.”

Frowning, he glances left and right, but his fellow Lantern Men avoid him. Likely, they understand this won’t end well. Indeed, Jungkook is already eyeing the man with barely concealed malice, thumb stroking slowly over the hilt of his sword.

“The fact that both victims were tortured,” you continue, conversational. “Almost as though the killer were looking for something.”

“Or someone,” Namjoon adds.

“Or someone,” you agree, focusing on Mr. Hu. “My men are searching the murder sites for more information now. While they do that though, are there any other details of an active murder investigation you’d like to know? Perhaps whether the victims pissed themselves before death, or left money behind?”

Paling, Mr. Hu seems to realize how this sounds. “N-no,” he says. “Thank you for sharing what you have, Horn-jen.”

Ignoring him, you glance in the direction of Yoongi. “We’ll find the traitor. I swear it.”

His aura flares, full of emotion unrelated to the conversation at hand. “Of that, I have no doubt,” Yoongi says lowly.

Heat floods your face, sensing his intent and swiftly, you look away before others can notice.

“While the Horn and Weather Man conduct their investigations, I ask for everyone to remain on high alert,” Yoongi says, surveying the table. “No Peak will increase Green Bone presence in the border districts. If you see anything of interest, contact the clan.”

Several Lantern Men relax at the mention of Green Bones. You know business has been hard as of late, with so many customers shaken by the violence. Hopefully, this will convince the people No Peak has the situation in hand. Otherwise, why would the Lantern Men continue to pay for your protection?

Glancing at the bloody photographs laid out on the table, you can hardly blame them for their skittishness. Whoever killed these two victims was skilled. Their torture tactics are pristine, better than most graduates from the Academy. A skill you also possess, although you choose not to use it outside of last resorts. Even then –

Your fingers cease tapping against your leather jacket. Straightening, you realize the skill displayed is exactly that of the Academy. The cuts, the angle of the blade and depth of the wounds – all of it, textbook. A Green Bone did this, you’re certain.

Sharply, you glance up and allow your distress to show. Voicing your suspicion aloud would only end badly. Above all, the Pillar must appear in control. If a Green Bone – even a disgraced one – is murdering citizens of No Peak, it would be a disaster. Better to discuss your suspicions in private before airing them to the entire group.

Perceiving the shift in your emotions, Yoongi stiffens. “We’ll update you with any new information,” he says, dismissal clear in his tone. “Thank you for coming.”

Chair legs scrape floorboards, patrons filing out as they murmur to one another. Asha, your First Fist, hovers by the door until you give a discreet shake of your head. Nodding, she slips out and you see Jungkook follow.

To one side, Yoongi converses tersely with his Pillarman, Hoseok, until Hoseok exhales and swiftly exits the room. Kim Namjoon stays, drinking a glass of water at the opposite end of the table. Once you three are alone, Yoongi holds up his hand. He waits, utterly still until the last jade aura fades.

Only then does he turn. “Well, Y/N?” he drawls. “What did you realize?”

Not wasting time, you pluck a photograph from the pile and toss it before him. “These cuts,” you explain. “They were made by a moon blade. So precise – so even. Exactly the length taught at the Academy. Which means–”

“Shit,” Namjoon mutters. He sets down his glass. “We’re fucked.”

You give him a look. “Precisely.”

Yoongi frowns, his distaste palpable. “This is the work of a Green Bone.”

“I think so.”

Pushing his chair back to stand, Namjoon grabs a photo and turns it sideways. “Why would a Green Bone go after a Lantern Man, though?” he wonders out loud. “He wasn’t even wearing jade when he died – it’s against aisho.”

Yoongi’s lips press tightly together.

Aisho refers to the strict code of honor governing all who wear jade. There are many tenets, but first and foremost is that those who wear jade don’t harm the jadeless. Aisho also limits retaliation following honorable duels, ensuring the clan lines remain intact.

A Green Bone who follows aisho would never attack a citizen.

Which forces you to draw an unsavory conclusion. “Unless they didn’t care,” you say, voicing the worst possibility. “The killer could have been trained as a Green Bone and left.” Stiffening slightly, you glance at Yoongi. “You don’t think…”

“I do,” Yoongi mutters. His jaw clenches, then unclenches. “Maro.”

Namjoon swears softly.

Maro – known to most as Toh Marosun – is a traitor to No Peak. He grew up in the same circle as Namjoon, Yoongi, and other high-ranking Green Bones. Maro attended the Academy in the same class as Yoongi, and everyone expected him to become the Horn. Brilliant, swift, and vicious in battle – not to mention one of Yoongi’s closest friends.

Despite this fact, you never liked him. Having grown up the only daughter of an unremarkable Lantern Man, you experienced Maro the way most people did. Toh Marosun was cruel. Saccharine, willing to say whatever people in power wanted to hear. Maro knew exactly what to do, what to say to manipulate followers. From the beginning, you saw Maro for who he was – a bully.

He joined No Peak’s ranks as a Finger, but swiftly rose to prominence. By the time you graduated, Maro was the youngest Fist in No Peak’s history. What he lacked in jade tolerance he made up for in cunning. Maro was always more sensitive to jade, but he was also smart. Talented, with the skills he did have.

In Green Bone society, there are two ways to gain jade – gifted or earned. Green Bones win jade through physical duels, taking the green from those they defeat. Recklessly, Maro began to challenge rival clans and often, he won despite not being able to wear his spoils. He displayed his jade often, which you suppose should’ve been the first warning sign.

Maro cared too much for personal glory. In Kekon, glory is achieved through the clan. Even the Horn and the Weather Man only exist to further No Peak’s prowess. The Pillar themselves is the embodiment of the clan, not their own person.

Even now, you recall the day Maro’s crimes were exposed.

Seven years prior, you were a Finger on routine patrol when Sain, your Fist, was commanded to return to the Min property. He brought you along, stationed by the front gate to ensure no one left.

You guarded with another Finger, one whose name you don’t recall. What you do remember is the utter stillness of the day, the unnatural calm which comes before a storm. The sun was bright overhead, a thick bead of sweat sliding down your neck when the door behind you at the main house banged open.

A man tumbled down the steps, landing in a heap in the billowing dirt. Coughing, he struggled to right himself, but both his hands were bound. From your spot at the gate, you couldn’t see clearly but you scented his blood. Heard the bruised rasp of his breath.

Yoongi prowled down the front steps, his famed Da Tanori steel glinting in his right hand. His gaze never wavered from the man bound before him – Toh Marosun, his former friend.

“Do you deny it?” Yoongi asked, his voice soft but deadly. Despite this, you Perceived conflicting emotions within.

Toh Maro stayed silent. Eventually, he exhaled.

“No,” he said sullenly.

Unable to stop it, you turned and saw Maro staring unflinchingly up at the Pillar. Yoongi stood over him, his lips a thin line of displeasure. You didn’t know what had happened but feared the worst from Yoongi’s expression.

In that moment, you didn’t envy the Pillar. Yoongi had become head of No Peak only a year prior; in many ways, he was as untried as you were. He was a silent, intelligent man and many people thought they could take advantage of him.

They were wrong, of course, but it would take time to prove that.

On that day though, you felt the dull grief to his aura. “Then I am sorry,” Yoongi said quietly. “For you leave me with no choice. Toh Marosun, you stand accused of smuggling jade from No Peak – one of the worst crimes a Green Bone can commit.”

The entirety of your blood drained as you turned around.

Spine steeling, you gripped your knives tighter. There were few crimes so awful they couldn’t be forgiven, but stealing from the clan was one of them. Cutting off Maro’s ear would be too light a punishment, especially with Yoongi so untried a Pillar. Death would be acceptable. Expected, even.

It would be the Pillar’s call – the clans weren’t run as a democracy. Straining Perception, you listened closely behind you. Although you’d interacted little with the Pillar, the man behind the mask couldn’t help but intrigue you.

Broken sobs filled the clearing, and you heard the sudden thud of knees hitting the grass. No jade aura accompanied the sound.

“Yoongi, please,” gasped a voice – feminine, young. “Brother, please spare him. Don’t kill him, he –”

“Silence.” Yoongi’s voice echoed over the courtyard. The newcomer obeyed with a lone, stifled sob. “You’ve been found innocent, sister,” he said, sounding weary. “But that does not make you innocent.”

The threat of his words hung overhead and although Yejun continued to sniffle, the sound of it muffled. When you glanced sideways again, you saw her face in her palms.

Yoongi watched dispassionately, although you sensed his inner turmoil. Rumors had reached your ears by then that Maro was dating Yejun. It seemed to be true, based on the way she pleaded.

Returning to face the gate, the yard remained silent until Yoongi exhaled. “Toh Marosun,” he declared, his sword sheathing. “From this day on, you are banished from Kekon. Return your jade to the clan and go. If you return to Janloon, your life is forfeit. Take him,” he said, speaking to someone you couldn’t see.

You didn’t dare turn, but tugged your knives a half-inch from their sheathes. If Maro decided to fight, you’d be expected to protect the Pillar. For whatever reason – disbelief, or respect – Maro didn’t attack, and no violence took place. He left in the waiting car, but you’ll never forget the look on his face when he passed.

Despite your young age, you recognized the glint in his eye. Fury, tempered by disbelief. He’ll be back, you thought grimly. It was only a matter of time before someone like Maro declared vengeance.

Your gaze slid to Yoongi, wondering if he felt the same. He watched Maro leave, his expression carefully neutral before he turned around and entered the house. Yejun had already disappeared, likely leaving upon Maro’s banishment.

The expression on Yoongi’s face now is similar, staring down at the photograph. Another moment passes before you realize something else.

“They knew each other,” you say, glancing between the victims. Reaching out, your hand lightly touches a photo. “Icho Retubin. He worked for the Weather Man after the Academy. And this man here” – you touch the other – “Niru Roluan. A low-ranking Finger who quit after a year.”

“He was friendly with Marosun,” Namjoon recalls.

“Yes.” Eyes wide, you look up. “After Maro’s scheme was uncovered, both of them quit and began working as Lantern Men.”

“Interesting,” Yoongi muses. “So. Toh Marosun returns. He tortures and kills his former friends – why?” he murmurs, speaking more to himself than either of you.

Brow lowering, you search for the easy answer. “He’s torturing them for something,” you say, glancing at the wounds. “Information, maybe.”

Yoongi tilts his head. “Which begs the question – has Maro found what he wants, or is he still looking?”

“Does it matter?”

Namjoon shrugs at your question. “If Maro hasn’t found what he wants, he’ll strike again. If he did find it – well. We might be out of time.”

Yoongi considers. “He didn’t find it,” he says, turning around to stride for the door. “Call it a gut feeling.”

Your gaze narrows on his backside. “Let’s call it more than that.”

Yoongi turns around, lips twitching in a smile only you see. “I can think of two reasons Maro might return. One – jade.” The Pillar lifts a finger. “Or, two – revenge.” His second lifts.

You and Namjoon exchange a look. “Maro could find jade on the Shotarian black market if he wanted,” you say.

“Exactly.” Yoongi drops his hand. “Which is why I’m inclined to call this revenge.”

“Maro could want revenge on anyone, though,” Namjoon points out. “Most likely whoever sold him out in the first place.”

“Well, that makes this easier.” Casual, Yoongi tucks both hands in his pockets. “I sold him out. I discovered details of his jade smuggling in Yejun’s apartment.”

“Yejun?” Sharply, you look at him. “Your sister knew?”

Yoongi’s gaze hardens. “Yes, she knew,” he says. “I’m sure you understand why I kept that piece of information to myself until now. Yejun wasn’t involved with the smuggling, but she knew it was happening… and didn’t tell me,” he adds, his voice grim.

Mind reeling, you attempt to digest this piece of information. Betrayal lodges deep in your gut, although you do your best to dispel it. It’s pointless to expect Yoongi to tell you everything – especially events which occurred before you became the Horn.

Namjoon also looks troubled. “That’s… but that means–”

“Careful what you say, Namjoon.” Although his tone remains soft, Yoongi’s body tenses. “The matter is done. I punished Yejun as I saw fit, within my right as Pillar. Trust me,” he adds, his façade cracking a little. “Her deception was dealt with.”

Silently, you wonder if this is why Yejun studied in Espenia. As a stone-eye, she can’t serve the clan as a Green Bone, but could have taken other paths. She could have become a Luckbringer on Namjoon’s side or begun a career in government. Instead, Yejun left Janloon for a foreign University. It was only recently she returned to start her residency at Jan Royal University.

Curious, your gaze flicks to Yoongi. If what he says is true, then surely, he knows Maro is coming for him. Yejun might not have betrayed him, but Min Yoongi did. It’s only a matter of time before Maro discovers what happened.

Blood simmering, you do your best to hide your frustration. Your role as Horn would be much easier if the Pillar would be honest about all his enemies. Suppressing your scowl, you ignore the heat of Yoongi’s gaze on the side of your face.

“Namjoon,” he says, turning away. “I want a list of potential targets. People Maro has worked with in the past or knew at the Academy. Assuming he doesn’t have the information he wants, Maro will strike again.”

“On it,” Namjoon says, already heading for the door.

Although faint, you can feel the cool brush of his aura passing. You envy the Weather Man’s ability to ingest information and remove partiality. Even after something like Yejun’s betrayal, he remains unflappable. Namjoon simply absorbs and executes, doing what needs to be done.

Left alone with your thinking, you can’t claim the same. Namjoon’s jade aura fades when he exits, footsteps receding to leave you alone with the Pillar.

You refuse to look at him, casting your Perception outward. A Green Bone with as much jade as you have can Perceive a beetle crawling through the tall grass outside. Feel the rumble of cars on the distant streets. Hear Yoongi’s heart beat from across the room.

Wearing jade results in a dizzying expansion of knowledge. You’re used to it by now – years of training and genetics lessen the risk of being overwhelmed. Without either, it’s all too easy to lose control.

It’s one of the reasons jade-smuggling is a serious crime. The other being that jade is the main source of income funding the clans. Selling jade through non-regulated channels increases the risk of it falling into the wrong hands. Hands which could bring negative consequences to other people or themselves.

Aisho outlines a strict Green Bone code of honor. It states Kekon first, clan first, family first. Occasionally, all three are tied and occasionally, one outstrips the other. Maro disobeyed every rule by selling jade to the Shotarians.

Maro knew all this and chose to continue, blinded by greed. He placed his personal glory above that of the clan, something which must be dealt with. To a lesser degree, Yejun chose Maro over No Peak, as well – which is why you’re surprised Yoongi said nothing.

“Y/N.”

Yoongi speaks your name softly, forgoing your title.

Stiffening, you force yourself not to turn. “Don’t call me that.”

“What?” he asks, his voice moving closer. “Your name?”

Hand brushing your elbow, Yoongi turns you to face him. Against all better judgement, you obey – and find your first mistake. Meeting his gaze, a ripple of familiarity – of home, a voice whispers – goes through you.

Shutting all this down, you lift your chin. “You lied to me.”

Yoongi’s expression flattens. “I couldn’t explain.”

“You could have. You chose not to.”

“I couldn’t,” he insists. “I’m still not sure I didn’t make a mistake. I showed mercy, Y/N.” Yoongi pauses, then swallows. “I exiled my friend and sent my sister away – and now, look what’s happened. Two men have been killed, and it’s my fault. How could I have told you,” he adds, the words desperate, “when I knew it’d result in that look on your face?”

“I’m looking at you like this because you lied. Not because of a decision you made in the past. Mercy isn’t a weakness, Min Yoongi.”

“Some would say that it is,” he murmurs. Fleeting, his gaze drops to your lips.

Yoongi drops all restraint so his emotion, so often concealed, smears through his aura. Longing, anger and fear, mixed with worry.

White-hot electricity jumps over your skin. Seeing the normally reserved Pillar undone in your presence is a heady knowledge. Knowledge that terrifies you, even as everything in you aches to move closer.

“It’s not,” you exhale, meeting his gaze.

Something falters in his expression and Yoongi stares at you, heated. You Perceive his intent – a rough flare to his aura – a moment before Yoongi bends and crushes your mouth to his. His kiss is thorough, intent, his body curving with yours while walking you towards the wall.

You instantly cave, unable to withstand the desperate sweep of his tongue. “Yoongi,” you groan, fingers gripping him tighter. “People will hear.”

“Let them,” he says, his voice undeterred.

Before you can respond, his lips fall upon yours with increasing urgency. Hand slipping beneath your jacket, Yoongi cups your waist to pull you taut against him. Eyes falling shut, you swiftly scan the building for lingering Green Bones. Finding no one, you return your attention to Yoongi and bite down on his lip.

He growls, grip tightening when you tug him towards you. Breaking away, Yoongi lowers his head to suck the curve of your throat. He lingers at your jade, tongue darting out to lick the skin underneath. Your entire body shudders, aroused by the sensation.

Touching another person’s jade is intimate. Most wouldn’t allow their own family the honor, let alone someone they sleep with. Skin contact with jade imbues power, and the swift rise and fall of it can be dangerous. Only Yoongi is brave – or foolish – enough to risk the effects.

Spine on the wall, you inhale at the rush. Yoongi’s length presses against your core, already hard through the confines of his pants. It seems unfathomable that this man, a stranger to you for so long, can inspire such potent emotion.

When you first met him, you were ten, and he was fourteen. You didn’t know who Yoongi was at the time – a fact which now seems unthinkable. Raised in southern Kekon, you came to Janloon after your mother’s death with little understanding of clan politics. Likely, you would have remained so if your high jade tolerance hadn’t pushed your father to enroll you at the Academy.

Walking through the gates that first day, you found nothing but apathy. The best-case scenario was your classmates left you alone. Worst-case, the other children were brutal. You attended school with the sons and daughters of high-ranking clan members. Although your father joined No Peak as a Lantern Man eventually, he could hardly be called successful. The Academy had no patience for a rural girl whose jade tolerance far outstripped their own.

It wore on your classmates’ pride when the teachers praised you. You began to get noticed, and not in a good way. Fed up with your presence, one of the students attacked you at the end of your first year. Even then, you knew how to defend yourself and flipped him on his back. Stunned, he stared up at you before yelling to anyone within earshot that you’d regret this. His father was a powerful Lantern Man of No Peak and he said you’d be banished before graduation.

Fear gripped you, sensing the truth to his words. Based on your own experience, you knew No Peak wouldn’t believe you over one of their own.

Despair filled your thoughts as someone entered the corridor. Your attacker instantly froze, which should have clued you in this was someone important. Still, you refused to look, reticent to turn your back on an opponent.

The newcomer cleared their throat, further stoking your ire. After a moment, you dragged your attention to them.

Min Yoongi stared back, his expression mild. “So,” he said. “Who can tell me what happened?”

Looking him up and down, you chose not to respond. You didn’t trust a stranger – a fourth year at that – to intervene on your behalf. Most likely, Yoongi was a member of No Peak and had only arrived to harass you further.

Seeing your hesitance, your attacker jumped in. He accused you of treachery, saying you jumped him in the corridor and threw him on the ground. Silent, your fingers curled into fists, but you remained quiet, even when Yoongi turned.

“Well?” he asked you. “Is that right?”

Your lips dropped into a scowl. “He deserved what he got.”

Subtle, his brow flicked upward.

To your dismay, you saw people had gathered as whispers broke out. A sinking suspicion occurred to you that something was wrong. Not with your attacker, but whoever this was.

Yoongi stared at you for a long moment before, to your surprise, he chuckled. “I agree.” Turning to face the boy, a dangerous light entered his eye. “I’d suggest not telling your father what happened, Heike. Because then, I might feel honor-bound to confess what I saw. Which was his son ruthlessly attack a first year, lose and then lie about it to his future Pillar.”

Color bled swiftly from Heike’s skin. “Yes, Min-jen,” he whispered, head bowed in shame.

Panic-stricken, you stared as realization sunk in you’d been flippant to the future Pillar. Steeling yourself, you waited for Min Yoongi’s response – likely anger or worse. Based on your experience, most men in power liked this fact to be known.

Instead, Yoongi merely turned and looked you up and down. His gaze traveled you slowly, unreadable in his scrutiny. At last, he glanced up.

“Your father owns the tea shop by the docks, yes?” he said, waiting for you to nod before he continued. “He joined No Peak as a Lantern Man last year.”

“Yes, he did.”

His lips twitched. “Well, then,” Yoongi said as he turned away. “I can’t help but be grateful he chose No Peak to patron. It would’ve been shame to lose you to another clan.”

Stricken, you watched as he strode from the courtyard. Minutes passed, and eventually you realized the crowd had dispersed. Heike skulked off to nurse his wounds and the future Pillar had gone, giving them no reason to stay.

If you weren’t loyal to No Peak before, you certainly were after. Yoongi had that type of effect on people.

After that day though, you rarely interacted. Yoongi was four years your senior and the future Pillar, while you were nobody. Albeit a talented nobody who graduated at the top of their class from the Academy. At your graduation, people whispered you’d make a strong Fist. No one ever imagined you’d rise higher than that.

You joined No Peak as a Finger, starting from the bottom. Yoongi continued to remain out of reach, the newly named Pillar struggling to earn his own title. It didn’t take long though, before you rose in the ranks. You spent two years as a Finger, then two as a Fist – you were twenty-two years old when promoted to Horn. The youngest in history, and a woman to boot.

Yoongi was adamant in the choice, defending you calmly to the entire clan. He said he’d rather have the right person at a young age than the wrong person at the right age. His support was the only reason you didn’t strangle him that first year. It was the beginning of working together and as it turned out, Yoongi drove you mad.

He micromanaged, overseeing all decisions to ensure No Peak ran smoothly. You two bickered often, the fire eventually dissipating to begrudging acceptance. Ultimately, you realized you saw the world the same – No Peak first, followed by everything else.

Back then, Yoongi dated but none of them stuck. No one understood the sacrifice necessary to remain head of No Peak. Couldn’t comprehend the ruthlessness, the dedication it took to lead the clan. Yoongi could never let his guard down, could never relax with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You understood, though, because you shared this burden. Yoongi could be honest with you in a way he couldn’t be elsewhere. To the rest of the clan, he was the infallible Pillar, but to you, he was only a man.

Proof of said manhood hardens against your thigh, and Yoongi’s lips curve gamely at the base of your throat. Head lifting, his smile is sharp enough to carve the remaining bit of your heart.

“You left early this morning,” he observes, his gaze dimming. “Why?”

Your eyes trace his lips before lifting to his face. “Hian called in sick, so I replaced his watch. My Fists are spread thin, Yoongi.”

A wrinkle forms between his brows. “You should’ve woken me.”

“Why?” you tease, your hand sliding lower to rest above his hip. “To watch me go? You needed your sleep.”

“I needed you more.”

Yoongi’s words still your fingertips, struck by his honesty. Min Yoongi is nothing if not blunt, leaving you often speechless. What began as just sex, mounting frustration between friends, has become something almost too tenuous to name. The idea of having him scares you nearly as much as the prospect of losing him.

“You had me last night,” you murmur.

Yoongi’s fingers drift across your cheek. “And yet,” he says, unwilling to let you off the hook. “I woke up ravenous.”

Multiple meanings layer his words, some of which you purposefully choose not to hear. Instead, you glance past him to search the grounds. Several Green Bones cross the lawn, none of them close enough to overhear. Still, it reminds you of what’s at stake.

Exhaling gently, you pull from his touch. “I should go,” you tell him.

Head tilted, Yoongi’s dark hair conceals the jade in his brow. His brow wrinkles when he Perceives your tumultuous emotions.

“You’re worried,” he says.

“Of course, I am,” you say with a frustrated laugh. “I’m your Horn, Yoongi. It’s my job to protect the clan – to protect you – and right now, it feels like I’m failing.”

His gaze on you sharpens. “First off, I can protect myself. Second – it’s my job as Pillar to protect the clan. How can you protect us from something I can’t see?”

“How many times do I have to say you don’t shoulder that burden alone?”

The lines around his mouth deepen. “In good times, I’m lauded. It only follows that in bad times, I’m the one at fault.”

“Oh, if that’s all,” you say drily. “I, for one, have never lauded you.”

“Oh, really?” Stepping closer, his expression shifts from frustration to carnal. “I seem to recall differently last night.”

Electricity catches each place his gaze lingers, shivering its way down your spine. Refusing to let him notice, you lift your chin higher. “You’d have to remind me. It all blurs together.”

Yoongi bares his teeth, and you can’t help but smile. If there’s one thing the Pillar of No Peak can’t resist, it’s a challenge. The start of your relationship is proof enough of that.

After your promotion to Horn, you spent most waking hours by Yoongi’s side. Working with him was exhausting. Every decision turned into an argument. How many Fists you should have. How many students to admit to the Academy. Whether you should train with the Kekonese military or not.

Yoongi constantly occupied space in your thoughts, and not in a good way. He frustrated you, forcing you to second-guess and slow down your thought process. Maddeningly, he was often correct, which only served to further your irritation.

Eventually, things began to shift. Bickering turned to acceptance and finally, understanding. Yoongi trusted you more often to make the right calls and in turn, you snapped at him less for his input. Your arguments dwindled, then disappeared altogether.

Three years passed as Horn, and soon your frustration gave way to a different kind. You started to notice when Min Yoongi entered the room. At first, you brushed it off as nothing. Yoongi had an undeniable presence, this was true. Soon though, you realized your thoughts breached the border of friendship.

His absence could be felt like a phantom limb. Yoongi’s jade aura comforted you despite its fierceness – so at odds with the calm way he carried himself.

Idly, you wondered what it would take for him to snap. To release his infamous self-control and fully give in. Thoughts of what Yoongi would feel like left your body scorched. On more than one occasion, you awoke with an ache between your legs and a dream of his face slipping away.

Such thoughts though, were dangerous. Yoongi was the Pillar, and you were his Horn – a relationship couldn’t happen and what’s more, he’d shown no interest. You began to withdraw out of self-preservation. Prior, you sparred with Yoongi every morning but soon found yourself making excuses to skip.

What was once daily practice turned into every week and then, once a month. Yoongi was a distraction you could ill-afford, disarming you with his laughter as easily as his sword.

Instead, you forced your attention on training your Fists. Firstday through Fifthday, you met Asha and Jungkook at the gym before dawn. This went on for months, training in secret until one day you exited and saw Yoongi’s car at the curb. Stomach sinking, you watched as he reversed and sped down the street.

Perceiving tumultuous emotion, you knew confrontation was inevitable but hoped Yoongi would give you time to process.

He did not.

Instead, Yoongi pounded on your door the very next morning. When you finally answered, he tossed a practice sword your way and demanded you dress.

Shaking free of your stupor, you glared at Yoongi a moment before slamming the door. Stalking inside, you threw gear in a bag and returned to the hall. Stomping past him, you refused to acknowledge Yoongi, throwing open the door to his Duchesse Priza.

Yoongi sped to his place in silence, tension churning between you like water beneath a ferry. At his gym, you stormed out and ripped the sword from its sheath. Yoongi followed closely behind, barely leashed emotion rolling off him in waves.

You flew at him first, your body Light, and then Strong while swinging towards his head. Moving through the various jade disciplines, you relied on training hammered into your bones. Yoongi caught a blow on his forearm, Steeling his skin to avoid any damage. The two of you entered a familiar rhythm, understanding the other in ways no one else could.

It must’ve been hours before you threw down your sword and declared the match ended. Yoongi simply stared, his chest heaving with a wild spark in his eyes.

You were turning to leave when he dropped his blade, strode across the clearing and crushed your mouth to his.

Five months have passed since. Your relationship has been kept a secret, with you unwilling to place any labels. People would talk if the Horn and Pillar were dating. You don’t want that for yourself. Not when you’ve worked so hard for credibility.

Pressing his thumb to your lower lip, Yoongi drags it lower before he releases. “I’ll have to remind you, then,” he says before stepping away. The heat dissipates from his gaze, leaving you cold. “But you’re right. I should go.”

Somewhat dazed, you feel yourself nod. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself. This is exactly what you asked for, so you have no right to feel abandoned.

“Send me the list Namjoon makes,” you say, forcing lightness to your tone. “I’ll send Green Bones to watch their houses.”

Yoongi opens his mouth, then seems to think better of it and merely nods. He stays silent when you leave, brushing past him to the hall. Outside, you pause on the landing before you continue.

His jade aura fades as you exit, letting you know he remains. You do your best to ignore him, flipping your keys as you stride towards your car – not as nice as Yoongi’s, but serviceable nonetheless. Yanking open the door, you slide onto the sticky-warm gray leather seat.

Exhaling, you stare at the wheel before shifting to drive. Lowering the windows, you allow a slight breeze to drift over your face. As much as you pretend to be happy with the current situation, you’re not. You aren’t stupid – you know your feelings for Yoongi extend beyond those of a Horn to their Pillar.

When you first became Horn, you respected Yoongi. He was a good leader – still is – and you were proud to be the person strengthening No Peak by his side. Now, he’s the closest thing you have to family. Deep down, you understand his pardon of Yejun. If you were in a similar situation, there’s nothing Yoongi could do that you wouldn’t forgive.

Especially now, with your father dead. It happened soon after graduation, a sudden collapse of his heart no one saw coming. Yoongi attended his funeral. It was held on a rain soaked Seventhday after the Autumn Festival. Late in the season for a deluge but fitting for the occasion. It felt like the world was wiped clean, along with your prior life.

For the Pillar to attend was unusual, but not unprecedented. You recall him standing near the back, his Pillarman, Hoseok, at his side. The funeral was short – your father wasn’t garrulous by any means – but rain soaked your dress by the time it had ended. It surprised you when Yoongi came to express his sorrow, even more so when he seemed to mean it. Most people didn’t. Most people came for the spectacle, or to say they were there.

Yoongi though, gripped your hand tightly while meeting your gaze. His calluses were as rough as your own when he said the clan would support you. Oddly enough, you believed him.

With both parents dead, and no siblings, No Peak is the only family you have. Yoongi’s life is similar to yours, apart from Yejun. His father died of cancer when he was twenty-one and his mother soon followed, unable to cope. Yoongi knows what loss means, what it feels like to be alone.

Lips tightening, you imagine what it’d feel like to lose him. Worse than a Horn should feel when they lose a Pillar. Silent, you curse yourself for having poor foresight. There’s a reason the Horn and Pillar don’t date. A reason why such a relationship would be forbidden. It’s your job to protect the clan – not just Yoongi – but if it came down to it, you’d choose him every time.

Weaving through the bustling streets of Janloon, your speed is forced to slow. Janloon, the capital city of Kekon, is full of contractions. The latest car models pass beneath flashing billboards, coupled with street stalls and sprawling temples. Scents of the city mingle with stale AC from your car.

No matter how much time passes, Kekon stubbornly clings to its roots. Portions of the outside world may infiltrate, but they’ll never replace. This is something Green Bones and the clans understand.

Traffic forces you to park a block away from your destination. Striding towards the Twice Lucky, you nod at a few Lantern Men idling outside. Asha and Jungkook wait for you in a private room, lounging in seats around the square table. The second floor of the Twice Lucky has been reserved for Green Bones; a privilege No Peak ensures is well-compensated.

Jungkook sits in his usual spot, arms crossed and feet up. Asha is restless, fingertips drumming against the hilt of her blade. Food and water are laid out, half-eaten as though there were others here before.

Sensing your presence, your first Fist looks up. “Y/N-jen.” Asha straightens. “Any news?”

Crossing the room, you scan the building but Perceive no other Green Bones. Sinking into a chair, you pull a plate closer and pick up red chopsticks.

Jungkook turns towards you. “What’d you discuss with the Pillar? Seemed important.”

Asha gives him a warning look, to which he only shrugs.

Ignoring them both, you stab a dumpling. “We suspect the killings were done by a Green Bone. Do you remember Toh Marosun?”

Asha’s head whips in your direction. Jungkook was at the Academy during Maro’s betrayal, but Asha was there and remembers how it went down. If Maro has returned, it’s only a matter of time before things get worse.

“Of course, we remember.” Her eyes narrow. “So, it’s really him? Maro came back?”

“Maybe.” You hesitate another moment, then finish the dumpling. “It’s only a guess.”

“A pretty good guess, if you’re telling us,” Jungkook muses. “Why come back now, though? Returning to Kekon is a death sentence.”

“Is it?” Asha fights a smirk. “Everyone knew Yejun had a thing for Maro.”

Casual, you retrieve a talon knife from its sheath. You begin cleaning the blade, the weapon a natural extension of your wrist, and feel Asha and Jungkook’s gazes follow.

“I don’t think that’s relevant, do you?” you say calmly. “Not unless you’re questioning the Pillar’s judgement.”

Asha looks away, miffed. “No, jen,” she mutters. “Of course, not.”

“Good.” You pause, allowing your fury to seep into your aura. “The Pillar deserves nothing less than your respect. Which means Jungkook is right – coming back here is a death sentence, begging the question of why.”

Jungkook considers. “Maybe he left something.”

Asha turns back, the moment of tension forgotten. “He could be after his jade,” she offers. “Maro was always thin-blooded, so if it’s jade he wants, this could get bad. He could come down with the Itches.”

Sheathing your knife, you look up. “I agree. Maro might not be in his right mind.”

“What should we do?”

“Nothing for now,” you tell her. “Namjoon is compiling a list of people Maro knew. If he hasn’t found what he’s after by now, he could strike again.”

Asha nods and accepts this. Pushing aside a twinge of regret, you wish you could explain the rest. If Yoongi is a target though, it’s best to keep that fact quiet. And as much as you’d like to blame the Luckbringers, you have no way of knowing who’s helping Maro – either by will or by force.

A phone rings on the lower level, barely audible over the din. The Twice Lucky restaurant doesn’t have the best food in Janloon, but the quality is good, and its owner is loyal. The same can’t be said for other places.

Footsteps pound on the staircase, and Jungkook springs to his feet. Before you can warn him, the door opens and Mr. Une, the proprietor, freezes in place.

“Put that away,” you demand, waving for Jungkook to lower his knife.

Eyes wide, Mr. Une stares while your Second Fist sheaths his weapon. Seating himself at the table, Jungkook kicks both feet up like nothing has happened. The third-highest amount of jade in the clan lies coiled about his neck, polished stones resting against his tan skin.

Mr. Une continues to stare, wary until you pointedly clear your throat. “Uncle,” you say, adopting the deferential. “What can we do for you?”

Somewhat placated, Mr. Une turns his head. “Phone call for you, Horn-jen. The Weather Man said it’s urgent. You can use the phone in my office if you’d like.”

Smile disappearing, you stand. “Lead the way.”

Mr. Une blinks, and you realize you’ve crossed the room in less time than it took Jungkook to draw his knife. Inwardly, you sigh and attempt to appear harmless. The citizens of Janloon are used to living with Green Bones but sometimes, your power is a reminder of what they are not. Of the inherent danger of living amongst latent gods.

Following Mr. Une, you head towards his office. Asha and Jungkook walk close behind, with Jungkook at the rear and Asha by your side. Mr. Une hovers awkwardly at the door before turning around and pushing into the kitchen.

Once he’s gone, you lift the phone. “Hello?” you say.

Namjoon’s voice barks in your ear. “Get back to the Min property. Now.”

Your stomach drops. “What happened?”

“Maro struck again,” he says tightly. “It’s definitely Maro – and the victim is still alive.”

“Who is it?” you ask, expecting the worst.

“Jio Reubin. He managed to escape and made it here, but he’s injured. This is our best chance to get information.”

“On my way,” you say, and hang up.

Taking a deep breath, you allow the reality of Namjoon’s words to wash over you. Jio is hurt, meaning you need to interrogate soon in case he dies. Nausea curdles your stomach, and you try to dispel it.

Guilt wars with relief from knowing Yoongi is safe. You’ve met Jio several times, having attended the Academy with his now-wife, Lula. She never took to the bloodier side of the clan, deciding to enter the medical profession instead. If you remember correctly, she’s in the same resident program as Yejun.

Leaving the office, you nod for Jungkook to follow. He falls into step beside you. “I need you to do something for me,” you say to Asha. “Head to Jio Reubin’s and search the area for Maro. Call me if you find anything.”

She nods and turns, disappearing out the side door.

You and Jungkook exit the front, squinting when you emerge in the golden hour. “Follow me to the Min property,” you say grimly.

Jungkook nods as he turns, aura pulsing with adrenaline while growing fainter. You should warn him to be cautious but know it’d be hypocritical. Your own car’s speed is nearly twice the limit as you rush through the streets of Janloon, returning to the gates of the Min property.

Screeching to a halt, you yank keys from the ignition and sprint across the courtyard. Namjoon’s aura pulses from the main house, so you follow the trail and shove open the door.

Namjoon doesn’t look up when you enter, and you immediately see why. Jio lies splayed on the sofa, right arm dangling listlessly from a red cushion. At first, you think that’s the color before you notice the blood darkening Jio’s chest.

Kneeling at his side, Namjoon’s jaw clenches while attempting to Channel. Usually, Channeling is used to rend the body apart but in certain circumstances, it can be used to hold it together. Namjoon doesn’t wear much jade though and wasn’t trained as a healer.

“Allow me,” Jungkook says from behind you.

Dropping to his knees, he replaces Namjoon to clasp Jio’s hand in his. Closing his eyes, a thick vein pulses in the side of his neck. Despite Jungkook’s wish to enter the bloodier side of the clan, he would’ve made an excellent healer. His ability to Channel is better than anyone else in No Peak.

Jio’s aura, previously guttering, gradually smooths. Namjoon sits back on his heels, clearly spent from the effort. Wiping sweat from his brow, he turns to see you.

“Close the door,” he says faintly.

Reaching out, you obey and cross to stand by his side. Staring at Jio, you take in his bloodied state. Whoever tortured him was thorough, cutting just deep enough to let him slowly bleed out.

It’s a miracle Jio escaped, no matter how slowly his chest rises and falls. When you cross your arms, he coughs and cracks open one eye. Dazedly, Jio registers your presence.

“Horn-jen,” he rasps.

Briskly, you nod. “You’re going to be fine, Jio.”

Straining Perception, you sweep the ground for Yoongi but find him far away. Good. The further he is from this carnage, the better.

Glancing back, you seek Namjoon. “What happened?”

“Maro was waiting when Jio got home from his night shift. His wife had already left for the hospital. Maro knocked out Jio, tied him up and when he came to, started torturing him for intel. Jio managed to escape but hasn’t said how. Couple of Fingers found him in the Temple District.”

Your gaze moves to Jio. “Maro escaped?”

“Yeah,” he responds.

Stomach tight, you consider the options. Either Maro is still searching for whatever he’s after, or he found out from Jio and –

From across the property comes a surge of fury. No one else seems to notice, but that doesn’t surprise you. You’re more attuned to Yoongi’s aura than anyone present. Keeping your expression neutral, you know you don’t have much time until Yoongi arrives.

“What did he want to know?” you demand. “Did he –”

The door to the room flies open and hits the wall. The Pillar strides in, adjusting his cuffs as he goes. Yoongi’s dark hair is slicked, clothing immaculate as always. Heat curls in your lower belly, and you do your best to stamp it out.

His gaze flicks towards you, sensing your need before his expression shutters. Facing forward, Yoongi surveys the scene.

“What happened?” he asks, low and deadly.

His Pillarman steps inside and shuts the door. Hoseok leans to the wall, jacket falling open to reveal the handle of his Sig Sauer. It’s odd for a Green Bone to carry a gun but Hoseok’s job is to protect Yoongi from all threats. Although Green Bone warriors render bullets obsolete through Steeling, there are other threats best deterred by firepower.

On the couch, Jio coughs and attempts to sit up. Grunting, Jungkook grabs his shoulder and forces him down.

“Don’t be an idiot,” you say to Jio. “The doctor is coming, but if you die before they get here, you’ll be no help to anyone.”

“Are you sure it was Maro?” Yoongi asks, tension radiating from every line in his body. Even if you couldn’t Perceive him, you’d know.

Weakly, Jio nods. “It was Maro. Looks different now – leaner and wearing new jade. Scabs up and down his arms. But yeah, it was him.”

You and Namjoon exchange a look. Arm scabs could be a sign of the Itches, an illness caused by jade overexposure. Jade overexposure can happen gradually, or it could be caused by a single instance. For example, if someone were to go without jade for years and then put a lot on.

Green Bones are taught the symptoms from a young age. Severe mood swings, sensory distortion – shaking, sweating, anxiety, paranoia, and heart palpitations. When left untreated, the Itches can lead to madness and eventually, death. Better soldiers than Maro have succumbed to it, the lure of more jade greater than self-control.

The possibility flashes before you – Maro, unable to stomach being cut off from Kekon. He seeks out new jade, expecting to stomach as much as he used to. Instead, Maro breaks, paranoia and fear dragging him under. He starts to blame others, including the clan who took everything from him. A man in such a state might consider revenge his only option.

The hypothesis fits, though it means nothing good for No Peak.

“What did he say?” Yoongi asks. “Tell us, word for word.”

“He…” Jio breaks into a coughing fit. “Knocked me out. When I woke up, I was tied to my kitchen chair. I asked Maro what the fuck he was doing.”

“And?” Namjoon prods. “What did he say?”

“Said he’d been gone for too long. That it was all a mistake – leaving, taking off his jade.”

“Is that why he came back?” you press.

Jio’s head lolls. “He asked who betrayed him. Said he only told a few people about the smuggling, so one of them must’ve done it. I didn’t know,” he rasps, shaking his head. “I wasn’t one of the people Maro told. He didn’t seem to remember – or care.”

Paranoia. Another unmistakable sign of the Itches.

“What else?” Namjoon asks. “How did you escape?”

“I don’t know.” Jio frowns, blood trickling from a cut above his eye. “Maro seemed confused. He kept asking who betrayed him, and then mentioning treasure? He wanted to know where his treasure was. I don’t even know what he meant,” he admits, glancing between you and Namjoon. “His jade? I dunno.”

“It could be,” you say slowly.

“He’d ask about his treasure one minute, then accuse it of betraying him,” Jio says. “He said he went where his treasure was, but it wasn’t there. Or they weren’t there? He kept mixing up tenses. Wasn’t sure he knew where he was, half the time.”

Off to the side, you feel a sudden surge of emotion – there and gone before you can dissect. Startled, you glance in the direction of Yoongi but find him unharmed. Eyes narrowed, you watch a moment longer before you turn back.

“If Maro wants his old jade, maybe he meant his apartment. He could have gone there to search first,” Namjoon offers.

“A waste,” you say with a frown. “Maro forfeited his jade to the clan before leaving.”

Forfeited to the Pillar, more accurately. You glance once more at Yoongi, who doesn’t react. He continues to examine Jio, a slight wrinkle between his brows.

“All roads lead to me, it would seem. How did you escape, Jio?” Yoongi adds, casually changing the subject.

“Didn’t, really.” Jio coughs, the sound wet. “Managed to get an arm free, lunged for Maro and fell on the floor. Maro… didn’t really notice. He swore something fierce, stabbed my fridge with his knife and ran off.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “He stabbed your… fridge?”

“Yeah.”

“That makes no sense.”

“If he has the Itches, it doesn’t have to,” Namjoon murmurs.

“True,” you say.

This feels important though, in a way you can’t pinpoint. Maro didn’t have any trouble killing before – the only reason he’d leave was if he found what he wanted. Frustration gnaws at your thoughts, certain you’re missing something.

Outside, you hear someone enter the driveway. Gravel skitters beneath tires, the car coming to a stop as someone exits.

“That must be the doctor.” Yoongi turns around, seemingly lost in thought. “I’ll go let them in.”

Pulling open the door, he exits with Hoseok. You watch them leave, returning your attention to Jio.

Looking weary, Jungkook sits back on his heels. “I’ve done what I can,” he says. “Stopped most of the internal bleeding. He should live.”

The door behind you opens. “I’ll be the judge of that,” says an unfamiliar woman, striding in. Setting down a black bag, she looks around. “Anyone without medical training should leave. Now.”

Brows raised, you obey and take your leave. In the hallway, Jungkook mutters something about readying the car and disappears. You remain in the house, pacing and waiting for Yoongi’s return.

Namjoon’s eyes follow your tread. “What are you thinking?”

Shaking your head, you stop to examine a portrait of Yoongi’s father. “I don’t know,” you admit. “Something about this feels off. Why would Maro leave so abruptly?”

“He wouldn’t,” Namjoon muses. “Not unless he found what he was looking for.”

“Maybe Jio is lying. Maybe he told Maro it was Yoongi who betrayed him. If that’s so though, why wouldn’t Maro come directly here?”

“Here?” Namjoon scoffs. “It’d be suicide to attack the Pillar in his own compound. No way – Maro is smarter. If I were him, I’d set a trap. Draw the Pillar out.”

A terrible suspicion dawns as you freeze, mid-stride. This is the moment the landline rings and, crossing the hallway, you yank down the phone.

“Hello?” you answer.

Asha’s voice fills your ears. “Y/N? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me,” you say, turning around. “What’s wrong?”

“I have… well, I don’t know what I have.”

“What do you mean?” you press. “What’s wrong?”

Noticing your expression, Namjoon frowns and pushes himself from the wall.

“I went to Jio’s like you asked. There was no sign of Maro, so I went back to the house and… it’s strange. Maro tied Jio up in his kitchen, and there are signs of a struggle, but…”

“But what, Asha?”

She pauses. “Did Jio tell you what happened?”

“Yeah.” Your gaze flicks to Namjoon, who listens to every word. “He said Maro swore, stabbed a fridge and ran off.”

“Oh. Okay.” Asha exhales. “I was worried you’d think I’m crazy. The thing is, Maro didn’t just stab a fridge – he stabbed a photo. A person, to be exact.”

“… Who was the person he stabbed?”

Namjoon goes still, and your grip on the phone tightens. Pieces of the puzzle slide into place, leaving a picture which turns your stomach. Dread fills you, knowing what Asha will say before she says it.

“Yejun,” she says, and a loud ringing fills your ears. “She works at the same hospital as Jio’s wife, and there’s a photo of them at some ceremony. The knife… it’s straight through Yejun’s head.”

Heart pounding, you close your eyes and frantically sweep the grounds. Deep down though, you already know what you’ll find.

Yoongi is gone.

Fury boiling over, you realize this was the epiphany Yoongi had earlier. It must have something to do with the word treasure – likely a nickname between Yejun and Maro. Maro was looking for Yejun, not his jade or revenge. Or maybe it is revenge – stomach sinking, you realize what this must seem like. Maro told Yejun about his operation and soon after, Yoongi found out.

Maro wants Yejun, which is something you should’ve seen from the beginning. Yoongi realized before you and now, he’s run off to play hero.

“Stay here,” you say, turning to Namjoon. Feverish anger burns your blood. “Get Jio to the hospital once he’s stable. Thanks, Asha,” you say before hanging up.

Namjoon’s eyes narrow. “Yoongi went after Yejun, didn’t he?”

“Maybe,” you say, pushing past. “If he did, I’ll find him.”

You don’t remember reaching your car, only that once you do, you drive faster than you ever have through Janloon. The hospital is a logical starting point since that’s what Maro saw from the photo.

Shutting down your thoughts, you continue to weave through traffic. Thinking begets worry, which can lead to mistakes. Tightening your grip, you push the car faster. Roaring down the next street, you recall Yejun is working early shifts this week. She mentioned it the other day, saying how glad she was to be home in time for dinner.

Glancing at the clock, your jaw tightens. After a moment’s hesitation, you make a sharp turn, car skidding a little on the next street. If Yejun is already home, better to first check that she’s safe.

Yoongi’s sister lives near the hospital, an allowance granted with the understanding that your men keep tabs. While it’s unlikely Maro knows her home address, he could have followed her there from the hospital.

Parking swiftly, you leap from the car and sprint inside. Someone on the street protests, all bravado disappearing when they notice your jade. You skid to a stop in the lobby, zeroing in on the doorman.

“Floor ten,” you say flatly.

Open-mouthed, the man stares. When you start to move forward, he snaps to attention. “Elevator is out,” he blurts. “You’ll have to take the stairs, like the rest.”

The rest.

Teeth gritted, you pivot and take the steps three at a time. The climb upward is steep, and you use a burst of Strength to reach the top. Shoving open the door to floor ten, you come to a sudden halt.

Chaos greets you.

The hall before you is narrow, barely two meters in width. Yoongi and Maro face each other midway, moon blades drawn and locked in combat. Lunging, Maro’s blade slices Yoongi’s shoulder and blood splatters the floor. Hissing, Yoongi doubles his Strength to kick Maro in the chest, sending him flying.

Maro slams into a window, glass raining around him. Rolling Light, Maro jumps to face Yoongi, unscathed. Stomach sinking, you notice the amount of jade Maro carries. More than he ever had while part of the clan. Clearly, Maro is past the point of caring about things like the Itches.

His aura feels wrong where it touches yours, jagged and pulsing. Leaping and whirling with unknown motive, withdrawing to expand in nonsensical patterns.

Face contorted, Maro unleashes a series of blows which nearly has Yoongi buckling. Clearly, Maro has continued training in exile. He looks similar and yet different – his hair longer, beard unkempt to hide the scar on his cheek. His body is lean, that of a wild wolf after winter who fights more desperately because of it.

Steeling himself, you feel Yoongi pull his aura inward, readying for the next blow. Maro slips beneath Yoongi’s blade and slashes – and Yoongi releases, Channeling his energy outward in a deadly wave. The invisible strike hits Maro dead-on, making him stumble.

Gaze bright, Maro’s head whips upward. Sensing murderous intent, a growl slips from your throat as you rush in. Swifter than breath, you wrench knives from your belt, thrusting them upward to catch Maro’s blade.

He shudders to a halt, teeth bared in your face.

Yoongi skids to a stop beside you, disbelief warring with his panic.

“GO!” you yell, glancing at Yejun’s door. “Now!”

Yoongi hesitates before nodding, lowering his sword to dart inside. Maro seethes when he escapes, shoving with all his weight to send you backwards. Dropping into a crouch, you brace yourself with one hand and kick outward. Maro leaps to avoid the blow, landing Light with a fierce glint in his eye.

Bright studs of jade – some red and oozing – dot his chest, clearly done in haste. Maro doesn’t seem to feel pain as he walks towards you.

“You?” he taunts, half-laughing. “You’d barely graduated when I was chosen for Horn. Must be nice,” he muses. “A reward for fucking the boss.”

Biting your lower lip, you hold back your retort. When you do this, Maro smiles, lips pulled from his teeth.

Before he can speak, you lunge forward and Channel. Energy jabs Maro’s chest – enough to stun, but not kill. Grunting, Maro’s smile disappears as he Deflects. Bringing his sword down overhead, he leaves no room to dodge. Swiftly, you Steel and hope for the best.

Maro’s blade slams against skin, though he fails to draw blood. Springing forward, you strike hard enough to rend his shirt’s fabric. Pulling back, Maro seethes.

Your next series of blows are fueled by Strength, fast enough to elude normal vision. You rely on muscle memory and Perception, countering each of Maro’s strokes with your own. He’s not as fast as you are, but his additional jade gives him an edge.

His next Channel is clumsy but strong, enough to leave you winded and miss his next blow. You don’t Steel in time, his blade catching your jacket to cut your torso. Hissing, you stumble and press a hand to the wound.

The cut feels shallow but stings, nonetheless. Fury building, you hone your Perception to a narrow cone. Maro’s aura ebbs and flows, erratically bursting as he walks towards you.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering to fight,” he says, adjusting his grip on his sword. “If anything, you should join me, Y/N – I’m your future.”

Refusing to let him continue, you rush forward and exchange a flurry of blows that end in a stalemate.

Panting, Maro withdraws. “You have to understand I loved her,” he hisses. “I loved her, and she betrayed me. She deserves to die.”

“Who did?” you ask, although you already know.

Behind Maro, you see Yoongi rush from Yejun’s apartment. He holds her, unconscious, Yejun’s aura silent without jade ability. Fervent, you wish you could gauge her vitality. As it is, all you can do is buy them time to get help.

Sinking into a crouch, you draw Maro’s gaze.

“Yejun?” you prod.

“Yes,” Maro breathes, his gaze bright. “I trusted her, and she turned me in. Do you know what I thought about every day while in Shotar? Her. Do you know what she thought about? The clan,” he spits. “He’ll betray you, too, in the end – you’ll see. Killing them both now would be a mercy.”

“Yejun didn’t betray you,” you say to buy time. “She wasn’t the one who told Yoongi – he found out on his own.”

Maro blinks, his surprise evident for a moment before vanishing under fury. “That’s just as bad,” he snaps, his voice rising. “Yoongi and I were like brothers. Under aisho, doesn’t family come first?”

“Even family is bound by honor,” you say grimly. “Should I ever be disloyal to my brother, may I die by the blade,” you add, reciting the Green Bone oaths. “I won’t join you, Toh Marosun. Take me by force if you must.”

His nostrils flare but before he can act, you rush in. Dimly, you register Yoongi’s retreating aura and hope he’s managed to escape the building. Lightness and Strength blur as you move, Maro’s Deflection flung hastily forward.

You keep your blows unpredictable, swift enough that Maro struggles. Rage cloaks your intention as you whirl and slice in erratic patterns. Sweat beads on Maro’s forehead, Steeling wrongly for your knives to draw blood.

Sensing victory, you push harder. Gathering his energy inward, Maro lashes out suddenly in a Channel you barely Deflect. Energy rips through you, searing your bones in a silent attack. Wincing, you leap back and Channel a blow. Maro stumbles, barely shielding and you recognize a flaw.

There are few Green Bones in Shotar, which must make it difficult for him to practice Deflection. Pressing the advantage, you move forward in a quick flurry of blows. Although Maro’s sword is larger, your knives gain the advantage in the small space. He can’t move when you duck underneath, stabbing upward to pierce his soft underarm.

Howling, Maro whirls and swings at you rashly. Leaning backwards, you Steel and catch the blow on your forearm. Vibrations clang through you, rattling the teeth in your skull. The two of you lock together, Maro’s energy clashing with yours. When he doubles his Strength, you feel your Steel buckle.

Lips split in a grin, Maro keeps his sword steady. Further increasing his Strength, he’s focused on winning he doesn’t notice the shift in your aura.

Dropping your Steel, you draw everything inward and let his sword slice your arm. Maro’s laugh is manic – until you Channel outward. The last of your energy shatters his Deflection, piercing inner organs with deadly precision. You feel the moment Maro’s heart stops, his arteries rupturing from the inside out.

Forgoing any mercy, your knife slashes his throat in a clean line.

Blood mists from the wound, coating the wall behind you in red. With a gurgled gasp, Maro lifts a hand – only to go limp and fall, face-first on the floor.

Silence descends, broken only by your ragged breathing. Not far off, sirens wail, and you sense Green Bone auras closing in on the building. Eyes closed, you force yourself to breathe in and out.

No matter how often you do it, killing another person never gets easier. Even when necessary. Even when said person threatens your life and others. You fortify yourself with the knowledge that Yoongi is safe, and Yejun will live – she has to.

The cost to your soul is too high for anything else.

“Is he dead?” asks someone behind you.

Swiftly, you turn as you open your eyes. You were so focused inward, you failed to notice Yoongi’s aura approach. The Pillar’s gaze snags, stopping on the man before you.

“Yes,” you say, bending to clean your knives. Heart hammering, you wonder what Yoongi feels at seeing his former friend dead. Wonder if he’ll blame you, as Maro said.

Setting your jaw, you sheath both your knives before standing. Immediately, you see you needn’t have worried. Yoongi isn’t looking at Maro, but at you. A lone muscle tics in his jaw, observing the crimson blood staining your clothes.

“The police are on their way. They’ll clean up the scene. You’re hurt,” Yoongi adds, his voice thick.

You glance down at your arm. “It’s nothing.”

Bending again, you begin to gather Maro’s jade. You’ll be expected to wear it the next time you’re in public, but right now, the touch of it is nearly overwhelming. Minor wounds and injuries pulse with each movement, already healing from your current jade.

“I’ll take it.” Yoongi suddenly is beside you, right hand extended. “Let me help.”

Relinquishing some of the jade piercings, you slide the rest in your pockets and push yourself to stand. Turning to face him, you stride down the hall. A roiling ball of emotion settles deep in your gut.

Worry about Yejun. Fury at Yoongi’s lies. Relief, that he’s here and unharmed.

Entering the stairwell, the door hits the wall with a satisfying thud. Yoongi follows closely, wisely choosing to remain silent. Two stories lower, you find the words to speak.

“Is Yejun okay?” you ask.

You feel Yoongi’s gaze on the back of your neck. “She’ll live,” he says, sounding weary. “I left her at the hospital with Namjoon and Jiro. She has a concussion. Maro got here a few minutes before I did and had already roughed her up.”

Something about this snaps the hold on your fragile self-control. Picturing what might have happened had you arrived a few seconds later, you whirl around and grasp Yoongi by his suit jacket.

“Never,” you blurt, yanking him closer. “Never do that to me again.”

Gaze burning, you stare him down and Yoongi watches warily. He doesn’t move an inch, allowing you to manhandle him. “I know that you’re angry,” he says carefully.

With a harsh laugh, you release him. “Of course, I am! You shouldn’t have come here alone.”

“I know that.”

“Well?” you demand after a long moment passes. “Aren’t you going to apologize?”

Yoongi lifts a brow. “I’d do it again.”

You stare at him, aghast. “Well, then.” You pause. Shake your head. “If that’s all you have to say, I think this night is over.”

Wiping your palms on your pants, you turn away. You only make it one flight before Yoongi’s hand finds your elbow.

Spinning you towards him, Yoongi pulls you closer. You manage to avoid eye contact until his fingers slip beneath your chin, making you face him.

“I know you want me to apologize, but I won’t,” he says lowly. “I refuse to apologize for trying to keep you from danger.”

Most people would swoon, hearing this from their lover but you aren’t most people. You’re the Horn of No Peak, sworn to protect the clan – and Yoongi – from any threats.

Your gaze narrows on his. “That’s a problem, then. I’m your Horn, Yoongi. It’s my duty to protect No Peak – to protect you. The Pillar is the spine of this clan and, once severed, No Peak can’t survive. It can survive without me, though.”

Yoongi’s nostrils flare. “And what about me?” he asks. “If you don’t survive, how do you expect me to continue?”

You go still. “Yoongi… I…”

“And for that matter,” he adds, his hand on your chin sliding to the back of your neck. “If you’re so intent on following the rules, who are you to give me orders? I’ll fight to protect the clan if I want to, Y/N.”

Fury expands from the spark in your chest. “You didn’t make me your Horn to follow you blindly,” you seethe.

“No.” His gaze softens. “I did not.”

You stare at each other for a long moment, each passing second draining some of your fire. You’re left with smoke on your tongue, a heaviness in your heart and the ever-growing certainty the time for rule-following has passed.

“You… can’t think like that,” you say eventually.

Yoongi’s brow sketches upward. “Like what?”

“Like I’m worth more than the clan. More than you, as it’s Pillar. That’s dangerous precedent.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do,” you say, frustrated by his nonchalance. “The clan is my blood, and the Pillar is its master,” you add, reciting your oaths again. “You are the Pillar. Your life is that of the clan.”

Yoongi’s lips twist with displeasure. “It seems we’re at an impasse, since I refuse to place my life before yours.”

“Yoongi,” you snap, exasperated. “You can’t just… just –”

“Just what?” His eyes blaze. “Love you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, voice breaking.

Something in his face gentles. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

Perceiving this truth, the last bit of fight drains from your body. Sensing it, Yoongi draws you closer and pulls you against him. Eyes shutting, you lean into his chest. Yoongi’s aura swallows you whole, an oasis of calm against the onslaught of night.

His breath warms your ear. “It was my problem to fix,” Yoongi murmurs, sounding reticent. “She… Yejun didn’t betray Maro, but she was going to – that’s how I found out. She was writing a letter to me on her kitchen table. I walked in and saw it.”

Lifting your head, you regard him. “You don’t have to explain to me why you spared your sister. I understand.”

“Thank you. You should know, though,” he adds, his voice fierce, “I will do anything to keep those I love from harm.”

You can’t help but smile, though it quickly fades. “I know you would, Yoongi. That’s a burden you can’t carry alone, though. It makes you weaker, not stronger.”

“This was my fault, though,” he says. “Not yours – nor anyone else from the clan. It was my decision to let Maro go free.”

“You aren’t responsible for Maro’s actions. And it’s not weakness to show mercy.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw.

“It’s not,” you press on. “Who’s to say what the right choice was? If you’d killed Maro back then, maybe something worse would’ve happened. Yejun might not have forgiven you. It’s impossible to rewrite the past, and you’ll go mad if you try.”

Yoongi looks away, unconvinced. “What type of Pillar does that make me, though?”

“One who hesitates before killing their friends.”

“One who balks at making tough decisions.”

“Min Yoongi.” Steel layers your voice and you reach up, turning his face to yours. “I would never swear oaths to someone who killed without question. Who made decisions in anger, then regretted them later. You question me when you question yourself.”

His gaze roams your face. “And what if others betray me?” Yoongi murmurs, voice lower. “Would you continue to support me if I was forced to kill Asha? Or Jungkook?”

“I’d trust you did what had to be done.”

“And what if I become corrupt?” he murmurs, his gaze flicking lower. “What if I’m the one being selfish, betraying the clan?”

“Well, that’s easy.” Reaching lower, you wrap a hand around the hilt of his blade. “I’ll kill you myself.”

Not looking away, Yoongi’s hand covers yours. “You could try,” he murmurs, some of his tension dissipated.

“Oh, I think I’d succeed.”

Releasing your hand, Yoongi finds your knee and hitches your leg against him. “If it came to that,” he murmurs, nose skimming your throat, “I’d let you.”

Inhaling softly, you close your eyes. “Promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

Perceiving the truth to his words, you open your eyes. Yoongi stares back, letting you see the starkness in his gaze. It’s no small thing for the most powerful man in Kekon to promise you anything.

Similarly, it’s no small thing to admit he holds your heart in both hands. Which is why you need to say what you do next. Without Yoongi’s next promise, this can’t go any further.

“Don’t make these decisions without me,” you whisper. “Let me decide for myself when a job is too dangerous.”

Yoongi’s lips flatten. “You give me an impossible choice, since nothing is too dangerous for my lovely Horn.”

“Trust that I love you, then,” you say, your hand trembling as you rise to cup his face. “And that I’ll do what it takes to come back.”

Yoongi goes still at your declaration. His pupils dilate so far, they seem to swallow the light. Four years, you’ve spent fighting together. Five months of knowing him this way, and never have you uttered those words to his face.

The transformation is quick, his expression shifting to desire in barely a breath. Bending, Yoongi drags your mouth to his. “Say it again,” he growls against your lips. “Tell me you love me.”

“You’ll become greedy,” you say, breathless.

“I’m the Pillar of No Peak.” He gives a half-laugh. “I will always want more.”

“Then, take it.”

Opening your mouth, Yoongi walks you backwards until your spine hits the wall. You lose yourself in his touch, his taste, the fatal heat of his body. Fingers tangling in hair, you’re rewarded by the basest of groans from his lips. Yoongi’s hands find your body, grasping and searching to pull you against him.

Far below, the faint pulse of jade auras brush yours. “Yoongi,” you moan, nipping his lower lip. “We should go.”

Pulling away, his thumbs indent your hips. “Go where?”

“Your place. My place. I don’t care.”

“I do,” he says with a grin. “Want to wake up with you in my bed.”

You can’t help but laugh. “You’re so needy.”

“I am.” His lips curve. “I need many things, Y/N. You in my bed. Eventually, in my house. Your vows exchanged for mine. But first” – his brow lifts – “I need to fuck you. Need to bury myself inside you.”

Lips parting, you attempt to digest this information. Everything Min Yoongi has laid on the line. The last sentence catches your attention though, heat curling in your belly and replacing all sentient thought. The rest can come later – first, you need him inside you.

“Let’s go,” you declare, pushing yourself from the wall.

He chuckles, low in his throat as he follows your lead. Halfway down, Yoongi’s arm finds your waist to pull you against him. His teeth scrape the skin beneath your ear, pausing to nip the highest jade hoop.

“Where will you put your new jade?” he muses, pressing his erection to you from behind. “You’re running out of places on your body.”

“I’ll think of something,” you murmur, Yoongi’s tongue on your neck proving extremely distracting. “Wrist cuffs might be nice.”

“If you wanted to be cuffed” – his voice dips – “all you had to do was ask.”

“That is not what I was referring to,” you say, although a shiver traces your spine.

“Pity.”

A second before exiting the stairwell, Yoongi releases you and takes a step back. You ignore the disappointment this brings, forcing your expression to neutral. Already, police cars are arriving to hold back the crowds.

From across the lobby, you spot Asha and Hoseok in deep conversation with uniformed officers. Moving towards them, you’re surprised when Yoongi takes you by the elbow.

“I ran into Hoseok in the lobby,” he says, steering you sideways. “He and Asha will clean up and meet us back home.”

Hoseok nods when you pass, his jaw tight in a way that implies displeasure. Swallowing laughter, you push open the door and immediately, your smile vanishes. Many people have gathered, huddled in groups around the yellow caution tape.

Catching sight of your reflection, you stifle a groan. You look terrible – sweat and blood mar your forehead, the rips in your jacket showing your wounds. Before anything between you and Yoongi can happen, you need a hot shower.

“The situation’s been handled,” Yoongi says to the crowd, pulling you towards the car. “Green Bones are searching the area for remaining danger – you should be able to enter the building soon. No Peak will compensate for damages.”

With that, he opens the car door and watches you enter. Expressions shift in the crowd, a wave of relief washing over the people. Yoongi joins you in the backseat, leaning forward to instruct the driver to go.

The car rumbles from the curb, its speed slow to avoid the pedestrians in your path. Grateful for the tinted windows, you lean sideways and rest your head against the cool glass.

In the reflection, you watch Yoongi retrieve his car phone. “Namjoon?” he says after a moment. “It’s done – Maro is dead. How’s Yejun?”

Namjoon’s reply is muffled, and your thoughts wander. Once you return, you should find Jungkook and instruct him to search Maro’s former haunts. There’s a chance he wasn’t working alone and if so, you’ll need to catch his supporters.

Tonight has taken a toll though, no matter how much you’d like to pretend otherwise. Exhaustion settles while you stare out the window, watching the lights of Janloon flick past.

Yoongi hangs up the phone. “Yejun is fine,” he says, and you turn your head. “Namjoon said she lost a lot of blood, but nothing that can’t be fixed. She should be awake in a few hours.”

Relief floods your body. “That’s good.”

His hand rests beside yours on the seat, close enough to feel the heat from his palm. Exhaling softly, Yoongi shifts until his hand covers yours.

Going still, you stare at your entwined hands on the leather. The car slows beneath you, coming to a stop before the Min gates. Another moment passes before the gates open, the car rumbling forward as Yoongi speaks up.

“You can take us to my place, Galo,” he says. “No need to stop at the main house.”

Startled, you glance sideways, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice. Never mind the driver’s raised eyebrows, or the fact that Yoongi just told him you’re sleeping together. While it’s true, you’ve slept here before, you’ve never been obvious. It feels as though a bridge has been crossed without discussion of what that means.

The moment the car is in park, you exit the vehicle and slam the door. Striding inside the front door, you unzip your jacket to hang on a hook. If Yoongi thinks he can share your relationship with others, you have every right to act at home in his house.

Technically, the Horn has a house on Min property, but you’ve always preferred to keep a separate residence. Your apartment in the city has served you well – except for the nights you stay here and sneak out the next morning.

Removing your boots, you set these aside. “We just discussed this,” you fume as you turn. “Ask me next time before you decide–”

Your words are cut off by Yoongi’s mouth, pushing you back until your spine hits the wall. “Couldn’t wait,” he rasps, shutting the door with his foot. “Need you. Now.”

Exhaling, you melt and arch upward against him. Grasping your thigh, Yoongi yanks your leg higher to wrap around his waist. The thick length of his cock presses to your center and you nearly whimper. Fiery anger dissolves into need – the need to touch him, feel him and wash away tonight’s fear.

“Yoongi,” you moan, turning your head. “I need to shower.”

Grasping your wrists with one hand, he presses them above your head. “Do you?” he murmurs, kissing down your neck.

“I’m covered in blood,” you protest.

Glancing up, Yoongi smirks. “And?”

Stifling laughter, you push at his chest. Obedient, Yoongi releases your hands to take a step backward. “Not to mention,” you say as you move past, “I’d rather not have Toh Marosun’s blood in your bed.”

Yoongi’s next action is quick, happening in the same breath. Catching your wrist in one hand, he pulls you closer. “The next time you say a man’s name in this house,” he rasps. “It had better be mine.”

“We’ll see,” you say loftily. “Now, let me wash up.”

Releasing you, Yoongi lets you pass, and you don’t turn around. If you did, you know you might cave and fuck him right there on the floor.

Entering his bedroom, you flick on the lights. Soft, muted warmth fills a room of concrete. Bulletproof windows overlook dense vegetation, invoking the feel of a post-apocalyptic city. Pausing in the doorway, you inhale his scent.

Although you’d never tell Yoongi – it’d go to his head – this room has swiftly become one of your favorite places. Watching dawn break in his arms has brought you greater peace than any of the gods.

In his bathroom, you help yourself to his fancy products and step under the spray. Securing your hair, you do your best to avoid the strands getting wet. Cranking up the heat to high, steam fills the room as you scrub blood from your skin. The water beneath your feet turns red, and then pink before finally clear.

Once done, you turn off the spray and wrap yourself in a towel. Straining Perception, you find Yoongi showering across the house. You’re momentarily surprised he didn’t try and join, although grateful he didn’t. After five years of knowing one another, Yoongi understands when you need time alone.

You’re washing your face when the bedroom door creaks. Drying your skin, you cross to the closet and withdraw a robe. Securing the tie, you wipe steam from the mirror before opening the door.

Yoongi sits on the edge of his bed, damp hair curling at the base of his neck. He’s freshly washed and changed into a plain shirt and trousers. In one hand, he holds a crystal glass of hoji, swirling it once before taking a sip.

Leisurely, his gaze drags down your body. When Yoongi looks up, his face brims with unsaid desire. Silent, he sets down his glass and pushes himself to stand. Watching him eagerly, you Perceive his intent when Yoongi prowls closer.

Coming to a stop before you, Yoongi lifts his hand to cup the back of your neck. Tilting your face upward, he strokes your damp skin with his fingers.

Silent, he lowers his face until your lips nearly touch. “What was it you said?” he murmurs. “About the clan being your blood and the Pillar, its master?”

Your breath catches in your throat. “You know the oaths as well as I do.”

“Yes.” Bending, Yoongi uses Strength to lift you against him. Gripping you tightly, he carries you to his dresser and deposits you there. “Well,” he says, lowering himself. “Allow me to show you who I get on my knees for.”

You stare at him, mesmerized when he parts your legs. Pulling your hips to the edge, Yoongi grips your thigh with a veined hand. The sight of him like this is downright sinful. Desire courses through you, setting your skin ablaze.

Yoongi leans forward, gaze meeting yours at the first brush of his tongue. You groan with relief, thighs spreading further. Lifting his other hand, Yoongi tugs at the tie of your robe. You inhale when it opens, fully bared while Yoongi’s tongue curls against your dripping sex.

He pulls away, eyes dark and casually spreads your folds. Muttering something that sounds like a swear, he stares at your cunt before lowering his head and sucking your clit. A dark moan escapes, weight shifting to get him even closer. Forcing your thighs open, Yoongi begins to flick his tongue against your swollen mound.

He doesn’t rush this, taking his time while eating you out. Yoongi flicks, and then swirls before sucking your clit. His tongue drags to your cunt, already dripping with arousal. Humming in satisfaction, Yoongi shifts on the floor and slips his tongue inside. Gasping his name, your fingers curl in the dark strands of his hair.

His tongue slowly fucks you, barely a taste of what’s to come. “Yoongi,” you groan, moving against him. “I need more.”

“Anything,” he says, pulling back to spread you with his fingers. Yoongi’s thumb finds your clit, casually stroking until your body quivers. “Take off the robe,” he demands, looking up. “I want to see you.”

Wordless, you push the supple silk from your shoulders.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes, staring at rounded breasts and hard nipples. Lowering his head, he sucks your clit again. Sliding a hand under your ass, he drags you close to the edge.

Gasping out loud, your hand fists his hair to anchor your body. In the mirror behind him, you watch your chest heave, hips undulating while he licks your pussy. Head tipping back, you lose yourself in sensation, each stroke of his tongue further coiling your tension. Yoongi is patient; he knows what you need and takes his time getting there.

Cupping his head, you move your hips while starting to ride his tongue. When Yoongi strokes your entrance and slips a finger inside, you nearly convulse.

“Yoongi,” you gasp, legs shaking.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, lifting his head. Curling that finger, he strokes a dangerous place. “Come for me.”

When his tongue resumes motion, you feel your walls convulse. Tighter and tighter until – everything snaps, a wave of pleasure cresting through you. Thighs trembling, you hold Yoongi’s hair while you cry out his name.

The pleasure slowly subsides, leaving you slumped on the dresser. Yoongi pushes himself upward, cock straining eagerly against the seams of his pants. Cupping the back of your neck, he kisses you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself. Parting your lips with his tongue, he dives into you eagerly, one hand slipping to slide into your pussy.

Groaning his name, you fumble with the buttons holding his shirt together. “This,” you demand. “Off.”

Using Strength, you send the buttons flying. Yoongi smirks, withdrawing and pushing his shirt to the ground. Touching his chest, you stare at him, unabashed. The lean lines of his torso, the indent of his v, the jade lining his fingers where he grips you tightly.

His moon blade is absent, likely the first thing he cleaned upon entry. Still, the hum of Yoongi’s jade is a potent weapon – nearly as much as the need in his eyes.

Lowering your hand, you palm the bulge in his pants. Jaw flexing, Yoongi lifts your leg to wrap around him. The roughness of his pants against your sex makes you hiss.

“Yoongi,” you moan. “Want to touch you.”

“I want that, too,” he murmurs, hair falling into his gaze. “More than that, I want to be inside you.”

Breath catching, you remove your hand as he presses forward. You feel his cock through his pants, rock-hard and straining against your needy pussy. Swallowing thickly, you managed to undo the last button and shove his pants down. Stepping free of their confines, Yoongi palms his own cock.

Replacing his hand, you give him a squeeze. Yoongi lowers his head to close his lips around a waiting nipple. A whimper rises when he tugs, switching to the other breast and repeating the motion. Arching upward, you lazily drag your thumb over the tip of his cock.

Eventually, Yoongi looks up and hisses, “Enough.”

Reaching lower, he guides his cock to your entrance. Leaning back on your palms, you lift one knee to allow him better access. Yoongi pauses, gaze traveling your face to your chest, landing on your cunt. Exhaling softly, your head tips back as you widen your legs.

“You’re perfect,” Yoongi rasps, flicking his thumb over your hooded clit.

Inhaling, you tremble from oversensitivity. Bending, Yoongi slowly spits to land moisture on your cunt. It drips down your sex, mixing with arousal while Yoongi pushes the tip of his cock inside. He pauses, watching your face, then adds another inch.

You arch upward, trying and failing to take him in deeper. “Is that all you have?” you challenge, goading.

Yoongi merely smirks. “Do you think,” he murmurs, refusing to move, “you can make me give you what you want?”

When he starts to withdraw, you tilt your hips, and he slides in a bit deeper. Yoongi groans as he fills you, hand tightening on your waist.

“Yes,” you gloat, brushing your breasts to his chest. “I do.”

Yoongi’s gaze flares, and he pushes in a bit more. “I know you, Y/N,” he murmurs, moving one hand to your neck. Thumb brushing your collarbone, he hauls you upright and keeps your thighs spread. “I know you want this pussy filled nice and slow. I know you want me to tease you. I know you want to feel in control but have someone else do the work. And I want – no, need,” Yoongi corrects, aura flaring, “to be the one giving it to you.”

Before you can respond, he thrusts forward and fills you with his cock. A cry leaves you, unable to do anything but take it. With your legs spread, hips tilted, the thickness of his length presses to your g-spot. And when Yoongi withdraws and leaves your body empty, you think you might cry. Think you might beg to have more of his cock.

Luckily, Yoongi doesn’t want this. Thrusting into you fully, he starts to move. Filling you up with his thickness, he goes harder and harder until you can barely think straight. His hips pound yours, filling you to the brim, making you take it. Fingers brushing the jade on your throat, he spikes your arousal and drenches his cock.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes, staring at the place he disappears inside you. “You’re amazing.”

“Yoongi,” you groan. “I need… need…”

“Yeah?” His gaze lifts. “Tell me what you need.”

“Deeper,” you plead.

His aura flares briefly before he pulls out. Before you can speak, his hands find your waist, setting you on the floor to turn you around. Spreading your legs, he presses a hand to your back to push you lower.

Gripping his dresser, you look over your shoulder while he positions himself from behind. “What about now?” Yoongi asks, slipping inside with one thrust.

Lips parting, you bend further and stick out your ass. Yoongi starts to move when you spread your legs, fucking you harder. His thrusts become rougher, hips slapping your ass while your breasts bounce.

“That’s it,” he says, leaning forward to lace one hand with yours. His other slides between your thighs, flicking over your clit. “So wet and tight for me. Taking my cock like you own it.”

“Don’t I?” you groan.

“Mm,” he agrees, rubbing circles on your clit. “It’s yours – I’m yours.”

Before you can respond, he pulls out again. Draping you over one shoulder, Yoongi carries you, Light, to his bed. You scowl, hitting his thigh but Yoongi responds with a firm smack to your ass. His fingers slip briefly between your cheeks, wetting himself with your slick. Before you can moan, he deposits you on the bed.

Kneeling between your legs, Yoongi repositions himself at your entrance and pushes in.

“Oh,” you groan, heading tilting back.

You love sex with Yoongi in every position, but this is your favorite. Feeling his callouses slide over our skin, his weight heavy while filling you with his cock. Yoongi’s length slides inside, rocking into you slowly while his hair brushes your forehead.

Reaching up, you push this from his face when he starts to move. If there’s one thing you’ve learned from tonight, it’s that these moments are precious. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you hold him tighter.

“Marry me,” Yoongi says.

You go still underneath him. “I… what?”

Sliding his hand under your hips, Yoongi tilts them to get deeper. “Marry me,” he repeats. “I’m tired of pretending. Tired of waking up without you. Living my life without you.”

“You have me,” you say, unsure whether he’s serious.

Slowly, he thrusts in and out of your body. “Not the way I want.” His eyes flash. “As not only my Horn, but my wife. I want to be your husband. I want the entire world to know I belong to you.”

Taking your other hand, Yoongi moves this to the bed while continuing to thrust. You arch against him, chasing his hips and words with your own.

“People will talk,” you say, breathless.

His gaze sparks. “Do you think I care?”

“Maybe I care,” you say. “They’ll call me a distraction. And don’t give me that bullshit about my life being worth more than yours.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Yoongi chuckles, teeth scraping your neck. “What I will say is that I’m better with you. And if I’m better, the clan is better. Not that you should marry me because of that,” he adds, almost an afterthought.

You lose your breath when he circles his hips, driving into you deeper. Thighs parting, you lose yourself in the feel of him in you. His body moves as his soul does, completing you fully. In truth, you’ve avoided this conversation because you know how it ends.

It ends with Yoongi. He’s it for you. From the first time you kissed, you knew it would end up here – it was only a matter of when. Your remaining barriers crumble as you meet his gaze.

“Yes,” you exhale, your hips chasing his.

Yoongi’s aura sharpens. “Yes?” he repeats. “Is that… agreement or acceptance?”

“Yes – as in yes, Yoongi, I’ll marry you.”

Yoongi goes completely still, ignoring your protest. A second later, he’s consumed by a wave of emotion. Need – fiery and stark – sweeps through him as he bends, crushing your lips to his. Yoongi’s kiss burns, searing and marking you for one another.

Slipping an arm beneath your knee, Yoongi pushes upward to get even deeper. You gasp with pleasure, his cock hitting a spot that makes you incoherent.

“Soon,” he adds, adding Strength to his thrusts.

Breathless, your fingertips dig into his skin. “Don’t be greedy,” you chide, losing some credibility when a moan leaves your lips.

His upper lip curls. “I am, though,” Yoongi grunts, pushing you close to the edge. “I’ll never have enough of you, Y/N.”

“Good,” you say, holding him tightly. “I’m yours, Yoongi.”

A groan escapes him, burying his face in your neck. The muscles in Yoongi’s shoulders strain, fucking you harder. “I could die hearing those words.”

“Don’t. That’s an order.”

Yoongi looks up to lock gazes. “Whatever you want. I need it, Y/N. Need this – want to feel you come on my cock.”

Already close to the edge, his words leave you trembling. Clutching him harder, you widen your thighs and feel your walls shatter when you come undone. Pleasure consumes you, vision going dark as you throw back your head. Yoongi’s lips brush your throat, continuing to thrust through your orgasm.

Swearing when you tighten, Yoongi goes harder to chase his release. On his last thrust, he breaks, your name on his tongue as hot cum fills your body. Slowly, he lowers himself to the bed beside you. Yoongi slips partway out, your bodies still intertwined.

Lifting a hand, you drag this down his side. Yoongi smiles at you before pulling out, reaching to grab a tissue from his nightstand. He cleans you with care, then rises from bed to throw it away. Slipping beneath the covers, you wait for his return.

Yoongi does so quietly, dimming the light before he joins you in bed. Slowly, your eyes adjust until Yoongi’s moon-limned face becomes visible.

“Did you mean it?” you say, barely more than a whisper.

“I’ve never meant anything more in my life,” he says roughly. “And you? Did you also mean what you said?”

Slowly, you nod.

Joy floods his aura, sharp and bright. “Anything you want,” Yoongi says, determined. “You have only to ask. Cities burnt. Villains vanquished. My own name, forsaken – ask, and it’s yours.”

You can’t help but laugh, your whole body shaking. “Villains vanquished?” you tease, pressing closer. “There are some who might call you the villain of this story.”

His lip twitches. “Then, I’ll defeat myself.”

“Seems like an easy fight.”

Mock growling, he rolls to pin you underneath him. You laugh louder, the sound muffled when Yoongi bends to kiss you. By the time his head lifts, the two of you are breathless.

“I apologize,” you murmur, cupping his face. “Most fearsome Pillar.”

Baring his teeth, he nips your thumb. “That’s better.”

“Truly, though,” you tell him. “There’s no need to get me anything. Whatever I want, I can get for myself.”

Somewhat amused, Yoongi settles beside you. “Oh, I’m aware. My heart, for instance,” he says, placing your hand on his chest.

“That, I’ll accept,” you say softly, staring at your hand on his skin. Your gaze lifts. “As long as mine belongs to you, in turn.”

“A heart for a heart,” Yoongi agrees, moving closer.

Skin pressed to skin, you feel your hearts settle. No Green Bone magic ties two souls together. Instead, that magic lies within the bounds of normal humans. And yet, as you breathe and listen to the blood in his veins, you can’t help but feel something greater is at work.

Something even death could not part – although you’d dare it to try.

Author’s Note: thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Go read Jade City by Fonda Lee. LOL

#bangtanarmynet #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bts fic #yoongi organized crime #bts organized crime

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dr3c0mix · 1 year

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Hi, I just started reading your works and they are fantastic! I saw on your request page that you do teratophilia, but I don't fully know if you do orc, so I wanted to know before I sent in a proper request. If you don't do orc I'll probably request something with a minotaur instead.

Little Duckling

Yandere!Orc x Gn Reader

cw: nsfw, kidnapping, stalking

⚔️ Valeth was a warrior, a dangerous, bloodthirsty orc. One who had the blood of hundreds in his hands. A scar-ridden man whose company consisted of the vile and ruthless, thieves and murderers.

⚔️ So why the hell were you in here??

⚔️ You looked so small, so weak. A tiny creature possibly from a far land from the look of your wide-eyed, innocent face.

⚔️ He stared at you from across the tavern as you happily scribbled on a notebook with a small glass of some sweet drink you ordered.

⚔️ He could hear the laughs and jeers of the other patrons, some giving you less than decent stares at your body, it made him sick.

⚔️ But why? Why is he suddenly so protective of a tiny, weak, small, soft, cute, adorable, fragile doll of a person like you?

⚔️ ...

⚔️ Shit...

⚔️ He pinches the bridge of his nose and gets up from his seat and walks over to where you're sitting.

⚔️ "You better get out of here before you get hurt Duckling."

⚔️ You look at him startled with the cutest eyes, fuuuuckk

⚔️ You ask why with the voice of an angel; the orc bit the inside of his cheek to stop him from smiling.

⚔️ "You new in Phenonia?" He crossed his arms, glancing at the others in the tavern, all of them looking away from you after meeting his gaze.

⚔️ You tell him you're a traveler in search of adventure. He lets out a laugh, giving you a tusk-filled smile.

⚔️ He offers you a walk back to your inn and you happily agree, skipping and rambling about your travels the whole way. Normally he would tune out someone as talkative as you, words he didn't understand going one ear and out the other, but you, you managed to hook him with your explanations of distant lands and the discoveries you made there. He even asked questions and gave you tips and advice for your future adventures in Phenonia.

⚔️ You reach your inn and you bid the large orc goodnight, shaking his calloused hand and heading inside.

⚔️ He stood there for a minute, looking at the hand that touched yours. He felt his face heat up a bit before he shakes his head, trying to get the image of your bubbly smile out of his head. He heads to his home to get some rest but all he can think about is you in the bed next to him. Its not weird is it? god what's wrong with me????

⚔️ You two ran into each other a few more times, Valeth always using the nickname he gave you; Duckling. He says it's because you remind of a little duckling always waddling and smiling at everyone all the time.

⚔️ He helped you out sometimes whenever someone gave you a hard time. It's like he would magically show up to protect you like a big green guard dog. You would always give him that damn smile and treat him to a meal.

⚔️ When you two weren't together, he would be watching you go about your day in a busy street or from behind a merchant cart or crate. He knew your set schedule like the back of his hand, where you'd go for breakfast, your favorite place to rest after a long day, the spot you would always draw at. He would pay friends of his to keep tabs on you to make sure you're safe.

⚔️ You left a scarf once and he found it with an adorable pin that was for favorite bug made from jewels of your favorite colors. He wanted to give it back to you, but he couldn't bring himself to part with it. he found himself taking in the scent of you from it. He imagined you actually there with him as he stroked his cock while moaning into your scarf.

⚔️ Eventually he had enough of merely watching you and quick hand touches, he wanted to know your touch, he wanted to know your taste, he wanted to know the sound of your moans under him.

⚔️One night after an exhausting day of trying to sketch a bird that kept flying away, you see Valeth waiting by your inn. You smile weakly at him and wave, but he just sighs and walks over to you.

⚔️ You start to get a bit uneasy and ask what's wrong but he reaches in his coat and pulls out a cloth.

⚔️ "Sorry for this Duckling.." He mutters to you before pulling you to him, covering your mouth with the cloth. You black out before you could even scream for help.

⚔️ You wake up in a bed full of warm pelts with someone lying next to you. You gasp, remembering what happened and kicked yourself off the bed.

⚔️ Valeth jolts awake and sees you scrambling to your feet on the floor next to the bed. He gets up and quickly pulls you close as you try to wriggle out of his hold.

⚔️ He tries to calm you down, whispering comforting things to you. You fight the tears threatening to run down your face as you feel his breath on your neck.

⚔️ His hands feel you up and down, rubbing you in order to comfort you, but it only serves as a way to scare you even more.

⚔️ He kisses your neck, licking your sweet spots, his tusks ghosting across your skin like a dull blade.

⚔️ "It's alright Duckling, you're safe, it's going to be okay. But you're gonna stay here with me now alright? I'll keep you safe, I promise."

⚔️ He reaches in the drawer next to you two and pulls out your scarf, he puts it on you, crying your teary face with the soft fabric. You hold the scarf close to you, but you still turn away from him.

⚔️ He sighs and puts his hand at the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his.

⚔️ "You'll understand soon enough Duckie...you'll understand how much I love you.."

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

⚔️ Valeth kept you locked in his home after that, always leaving to keep up appearances that nothing happened. Whenever someone asked where you've gone, he said you just left in search of more adventure as you do.

⚔️ He was as tough and stoic as ever when he went out but as soon as he comes back home to his modest house in the edges of the kingdom and sees you, he becomes a giant cuddle bug.

⚔️ This big battle-scared orc turns to putty when he hugs your small form.

⚔️ He still locks the doors and windows from the outside in fear of you leaving him, but it's ok! You can still write about your travels and such! He brings home things he thinks you'd like. Weird stones, leaves, trinkets, anything.

⚔️ He would do anything for you, and you're reminded every day when he cuddles you close, taking in your sweet smell. Everything. Except being let go of course.

⚔️ Sometimes you refuse to eat in hopes of ticking him off but he just laughs and holds you in his arms like a stubborn baby and spoon-feeds you.

⚔️ No matter how much you kick and scream, he's always stronger than you, always shutting down your tantrums as easy as placing his hand over your mouth.

⚔️ Eventually you learn to live with him and his affections, the pile of junk he brought home is rummaged through and actually paid attention to by you, meals are eaten, albeit with you staring daggers into him, but he couldn't be happier.

⚔️ He never forced you to do anything lewd you didn't want to do, but he would sneak off out of bed to watch you, sometimes touch himself to the thought of the day he finally gets permission to bed you.

⚔️ But now, he's satisfied with you just sleeping with him in his arms, his face buried in your hair.

⚔️ "You're mine little Duckling...only mine..."

Thnkank uouyu anon <3 <3 <3

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home-of-renn · 8 months

Text

One thing that I wished they kept throughout the franchise was Hiccup being the smallest Viking. I wish they kept him scrawny and stringy and shorter than Astrid and the rest of the gang.

Hiccup was ostracised by his entire community for many reasons, one being his weak build and small stature.

Snotlout may be shorter than Hiccup in the movies, but he's got bigger muscles and puffs himself up. He makes up for it by acting like a proper Viking, being loud and obnoxious and always ready to start a fight - that and he can actually lift a weapon.

The name Hiccup is meant to mean small and frail - the runt of a litter or the black sheep. I want Hiccup to be the absolute epitome yet antithesis of his name. I want Hiccup to be small and unassuming and shorter than the rest. But I also want him to be Great. I want him to be brave and stubborn and hard to kill. Awkward and sarcastic at the worst of times but still kind and friendly and always dependable.

I want him to be everything a Viking is and isn't. I want him to be a peacekeeper and a warrior, an adventurer and an inventor, the son of the chief and the hiccup of his tribe. Someone who can't wield the same weapons as his tribesmen so he makes his own. Someone who wants to uphold the traditions and culture of his people yet always thinks outside of the box. The representation of this new age that's fast approaching, the line in the middle where old and new clash.

I want Hiccup to dress like a Viking, talk like a Viking, eat, sleep and walk like a Viking yet be the very last thing anyone ever thinks of when they think of a Viking. And most of all I want there to be absolutely nothing wrong with that.

I wish they hadn't made him tall and appealing in the end. I wish they'd kept him the way he was. A Viking born too early and too weak in the middle of one of the harshest winters ever experienced by the barbaric archipelago. A Viking who beat the odds and survived. He's braved every terrible winter since his birth and lives in a place where it snows nine months of the year and hails the other three. He can endure bone-freezing chills and frozen oceans but never fails to catch the common cold. He's always been a bit sickly, ever since he was a child, but he always bounces back. He's got scars and a missing leg and his hands are filled with callouses, cuts and burns, but he's soft-spoken and loves to read and never skips a meal yet can never seem to get any bigger.

I wish they could have kept Hiccup the way he was. I wish they didn't have to change him in order to have him become a worthy hero.

I wish the entire village could look at their little runt of a chief and still crack jokes about his long-overdue growth spurt. I want them to look at him and be filled with pride, cause despite the fact that he hasn't grown an inch since he was sixteen, there isn't a single person on Berk who can look at him without seeing just how far he's come.

#httyd #home of renn #hiccup horrendous haddock lll #berk #how to train your dragon #dribble drabble #httyd1 #httyd 1 #hiccup #hiccup haddock #httyd hiccup #hooligan tribe #chief hiccup #httyd2 #httyd 2 #astrid hofferson #httyd movies #httyd 3

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vadersassistant · 8 months

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Hiiii

wo dering if you could do an enemies to lover anakin imagine. kind of like friends to enemies to lovers or something like that and it ends in them making out o whatever you are comfortable with.

Anyways thank youuu

Denial One Shot (Darth Vader x Reader)

Summary: After venturing into a Sith Temple to try and find an edge on the current war, (Y/N) meets her enemy, Lord Vader, the man who killed her best friend and secret lover. He has been hunting both her and her alias down for months, following her across the galaxy, but little does she know, he has no plans to kill her. Takes place in the temple seen in the Star Wars Rebels season two finale. Reader was previously a Jedi and is in hiding due to order 66.

Warnings: Make out session

A/N: (Y/N) does not know Vader is Anakin, and Vader does not know (Y/N) is the Fugitive he has been searching for. This is once again a mix of suited Vader and nightfall Vader. In which, Vader wears the suit and mask, but he can take it off and looks like the Anakin we know and love.

The temple was eerie, an odd feeling passing by with each step you took. It was the opposite of the one I grew up in, representing everything I was told to dislike, and yet I was here anyways. I had made up my mind to fight instead of continuing to run from the problem. I wasn’t a rebel, but I wasn’t an imperial either. I was the middle ground, a former Jedi with a new identity, a mask to shield my face so that I could live freely, but the saber still gave it away. I was good, too good to be a civilian having fun with an old relic, even though some still used them publicly. Some, as in him.

The Jedi fell and Lord Vader rose out of thin air. There was no preface, no foreshadowing, he just came, and everyone bowed their heads.

To outsiders he was a military leader trained in combat, who happened to use an imaginary power. To force users, like Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and I, he was a Sith. We all knew it the second he began hunting us down. He wanted the Jedi dead and made it clear when he began searching for my alias as well. Everyone knew who she was, I was put on every single imperial security watch available, but I evaded it all I could. I forged a new saber, so that they couldn’t track me that way, and told people about how the female jedi on the Holonets from the clone wars died. The only people who truly knew were Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, since they too had done something similar. He was Ben, she was Ashla, and I gained the name Fugitive, a mask being the only way to keep track of my identity.

I couldn’t count how many storm-troopers I had killed by now, just that I did. I was forced to, to keep myself alive, because he wanted me turned in. I was always told to run, to flee from Vader because of what he’s done, but all I wanted was for the man to wind up dead. A lust for revenge had developed ever since I learned what he did to my best friend, Anakin Skywalker.

I don’t even know how he could have killed a warrior like him, but he did and now he’s gone. Slaughtered like any other while trying to save people in the temple, something someone with his character would have done naturally. The worst part is that everyone he was trying to save is dead too, and that he could have escaped with us, had he not done what he did. He had a wife, Senator Amidala, a good friend of mine, who also died that night, although I wasn’t sure if they ended on good terms.

The two had been arguing for a while, he believed she was cheating on him with Obi Wan, although she continued to deny it along with everyone else. I was the only one who he talked to about his problems willingly, even Kenobi would have to go through reading his mind to talk about personal issues. It was only when Anakin died that the truth came out, that being that Anakin was right, and she was seeing Kenobi.

I hadn’t recognized him after that point. I knew he was afraid he would be kicked out of the Jedi order if we found out he was dating another woman. Even further, the fact he knowingly was allowing the affair to happen, but it occurred anyways, and he lost everything with it. That was consequence enough, he didn’t need me to yell at him any further for going that far.

Still, I was angry, because I cared about Anakin.

And also loved him.

I denied it for years, the helpless prodding’s from Ahsoka when the two of us would spend hours upon hours with each other. We carried out the entire war effort, working extremely close together on missions. It was no surprise that I liked him, he had even mentioned subtly what things would be like if he hadn’t met her. It sounded like he regretted it, but I had no clue, due to us being force users.

I now stood in front of the man who took him away, the one that gutted him in the chest like a fish with no care whatsoever. The man that had been hunting me down under both my names since the night of the fall, the one that was known for murdering everyone in his path. I don’t know how he found me, I had a feeling we were being followed, but I didn’t care. We needed the Holocron inside of the temple, and Ahsoka now had it in hand. I could sense their distraught, both behind me looking at the Sith in front of us. They didn’t want to fight him; they were afraid to fight him. I felt differently, looking at his mask through the visors of my own.

“It was foretold that you would be here, our long-awaited meeting has come at last."

“This meeting is over,” Ahsoka said.

“Are you so sure?” the Sith questioned through the modulated voice his mask provided him, as I stepped forward.

“What are you doing?” Obi-Wan asked me, his breath becoming short.

“Leave."

“No," he shook his head. "Don’t do this."

“Leave. Now.”

I looked up at the temple’s ceiling as the walls started to drop down. It was collapsing on itself, since the Holocron had been taken from the Obelisk. There wasn’t much to do, but I knew I didn’t want to pull them into this. I turned around and outstretched a hand.

Ahsoka screamed as I force pushed both her and Obi-Wan back while the temple’s walls crashed down. I saw her figure fly back just before the drop and felt her gently land. There was a ship, they could leave, I would worry about myself after I killed him.

“We’re finishing this here,” I said. "I know you've been hunting me for the past months."

“You are courageous, unlike your friends,” the Sith mused. “Hateful.”

“You killed my best friend," I pointed out. "I want you to experience that same pain."

“Revenge is not the Jedi way,” he reminded. "Your confidence dilutes your ability to make rational decisions."

“I am no Jedi.”

“Then who are you? Your saber is unlike any I have ever seen, an identity successfully hidden behind a helm.”

“That’s none of your business, why have you been hunting me?” I asked. I felt the pressure of the Dark Side creeping against my mind's barriers, he was trying to invade.

“You would make a wonderful apprentice in the dark side,” Vader said. "You have already abandoned your training as a Jedi."

“I don’t side with murderers.”

“And yet you are one. I have seen your way of fighting Fugitive; you have killed countless of our troops and inquisitors.”

“Your Inquisitorious is an embarrassment, and I will never join you, not after what you did,” I called my saber to my hand, igniting it.

“Then you will die.”

There was this feeling of fear that attempted to wash over me, like he was attempting to throw me off, but I wasn't thinking about it anymore.

I ran full speed at him, force pushing myself up off the ground and into the air to try and put myself on the offensive. My blade met his right over his helmet, as he angled me back and I landed behind him. My automatic response was to try and swing for his legs, a move he evaded but had been surprised by. I knew I needed to be careful with how I played things. He would try and tire me out by just playing the defensive, but I also didn’t get that tired frow much stamina I built up during the war. Vader was also bigger, and stronger, meaning I’d need to use his weight to my advantage. I was quick, less stable, and grounded, and more agile in my movements.

We continued to take shots at each other, as he seemingly began to test me. It was a constant switch from the right to the left, bashing at each other from different angles and walking along with it. It was something Anakin and I always did, and it almost felt familiar. For whatever reason, I could feel myself getting into the rhythm Skywalker and I got into when we would train every day. After a certain point I would always switch my grip and force him to back off, and I did it purely out of muscle memory, shoving the Sith back.

“Your anger focuses you,” he commented. “Join me and I can enhance that power.”

“You killed him, the man I loved, do you truly believe I would ever consider that?”

“He is gone for a reason,” Vader said.

“He was the chosen one!” I shouted, interlocking lightsabers in a pursuit for power over the other. "You know why he lost his life?! Because he was trying to save everyone else, instead of actually caring for himself for once."

“(Y/N)."

I stumbled back immediately, hearing that name leave his mouth,

"What?"

My eyes widened beneath the visors, letting my guard down for just a moment.

It was all he needed.

I felt his immense force break through my walls and invade my mind, clawing through my memories and thoughts like a file. Not only that, but he immediately took me to the ground. It was quick, as he now straddled me, muscular thighs resting over my lower waist. Both my arms were pinned to either side with by the force, my saber in his hand.

I grunted, struggling under him and thrusting against his cod piece hoping it would make him budge but it barely made a difference. I couldn’t do a thing, as the Sith reached for my mask and pressed down on the sides. I felt it depressurize, as his gloved digits lifted it off my head, and I looked into his mask with my own eyes.

"How do you know my name?" I asked angrily as I fought underneath him to free myself.

There was no way of telling what he truly felt in that moment, holding the helm silently, breathing being the only indication he was still alive. I continued to try and do everything to get out of his grasp, but the Sith only sat there and took me in, his body heat lingering over my own. I felt like a mess, wondering where Ahsoka and Obi-Wan might be right now, realizing why Anakin lost his life to this man. I didn’t know how he knew my name, my real name, the one that no one had called me in months. I was fully pinned down, not giving up until I saw him reach for his own helmet.

"What are you do—"

My throat ran dry, amber eyes piercing through my body like a blade.

"Anakin."

It was him, with brown hair that held golden streaks just above his armor.

"(Y/N)."

Hearing his voice sent a shiver down my entire back, as I shuddered underneath him.

“I thought you died—they said Vader killed you—" there were tears welling up in my eyes, looking up at him.

“I am alive."

“Why did you turn?"

“The Jedi council was using us, Obi-Wan lied to me about Padme (Y/N), they were having an affair. But you know that already.”

“Obi Wan told us,” I trailed off.

“I know.”

“Do you plan to kill me?”

“No, that was never my intent," he emphasized lowly.

“So, what will you do?” I questioned.

“After separating myself from the order, I reflected much upon it,” Anakin started. "And came to terms with several of my mistakes."

“What mistakes?”

Still straddling me Anakin leaned down, placing his hands by either sides of my head and lowering himself to my ear.

“I was blindly dating filthy senator, when I had the love of my life right next to me the entire time."

"What do you mean?" I emphasized each word, my abdomen tensing as he got so close to me.

"There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of my future and imagine you by my side. I told myself it was our strong bond causing me to think of you constantly, due to the amount of time we spent together, but now, I feel completely different."

"Anakin," my heart was racing, as he continued to whisper into my ear.

"Maker, I missed you so much."

He was just trying to be friendly, that's all this was.

"Now, I know you are not that naive," he let out a deep chuckle, reading my mind.

"Is this your way of coercing me into joining the dark side?" I said softly, trying to play it off.

"There is no need to coerce you (Y/N), your heart is already doing all the work," Anakin told me. "All there is to do is to make up for lost time."

"No.."

"Continuing to deny it is only stalling the inevitable," he spoke in a playful way. "Your hatred towards the one you believed to be my killer only proves it more."

"I—" I cut myself off, as Anakin moved his head, now right over mine.

"What is it?" he asked me, his golden eyes flicking from my lips up to my eyes in quick fashion.

I gave in, nodding to his silent question and feeling the force lift off my hands.

Anakin pressed his lips to mine as I lifted my head up and met him midway. His robotic hand came down to my waist, the other combing through my hair as he helped hold my head steady. It was delicate and prepared, goosebumps crawling over my skin as his weight pressed me onto the cold temple floors. He was an expert in the way he worked around my mouth, the first time I had ever kissed anyone to begin with.

To think such a sacred place would be ruined due to our own shenanigans.

A Jedi and a Sith, making out in a temple with no care for sentiment.

His lips were chapped yet soft, and the more breaths we took between kissing the more swollen they became. Anakin didn’t seem to care though, continuing to go down on my neck allowing me to breath. He wasn’t going too far, but it was enough for the occasion, leaving marks I that wouldn’t leave for days.

It was madness.

Everything around us screamed in pleasure, the force happily chiming along with the two sides agreeing on something, even if it wasn’t an argument. Anakin had changed, and I couldn’t decide if it was for better or for worse.

If only those two could see me now, making love to the man that we had been running from for months. The copious amounts of rage had turned to attraction in a blink of an eye, rejoicing in his presence as my hand pressed against his tunic and I felt his abdomen underneath the fabric. He was such light and yet the darkness itself, drowning me in it as we sunk into a pool of ecstasy.

The cold stone floors were soon heated, as the temple grew humid and we both simultaneously agreed to take our tops off. It was the definition of multitasking, as I took off his armor and tunic, leaving behind a black pair of pants, and his boots. With the force he slipped my top off, gaining access to my collar bone and gracing it with his mouth. There was a possessive feeling in the air, as he took in my body for the first time with his own eyes as I did to him.

"You are so beautiful, it is intoxicating."

I felt myself smiling, sitting up and wrapping my arms around his neck, the both of us kissing deeply. This was it, holding our breath as we enjoyed one another, but the force was warning the both of us.

The temple shook, I almost forgot it was collapsing.

"We need to escape before we become trapped inside," Anakin said. "My ship is outside."

"And you assume I'm coming?"

"I know you are."

I laughed, acknowledging his foresight. We put on our clothes hurriedly yet thoroughly, as someone trained to handle life or death would. In truth, that was what we stood for, as Jedi and Sith both came together as one, in ways that would be frowned upon.

Except we didn't care.

We weren't denying it any longer.

Back in business since the recent Ahsoka episode. Hope you all enjoyed!

#darth vader x reader #darth vader imagine #darth vader x y/n #darth vader x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin x reader #suitless darth vader x reader

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decembermidnight · 3 months

Text

Bad Attitude

Summary: While on patrol duty, you chase a suspect starship but end up crashing on a freezing planet. Its pilot, a Mandalorian, rescues you, but he doesn't like your attitude towards him and makes sure you understand who is in charge.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, teasing, dom!din, brat!reader, brat tamer!din, Din is really an asshole here lol, improper use of the darksaber, lots of dirty talk, oral (m receiving), breath play, choking, fingering, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, degradation kink, praise kink, creampie

A/N: Loosely based on The Passenger episode and super canon divergent. I just had fun having nasty thoughts! Reblogs and comments are always welcome!! Hope you enjoy it!

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

You… You really did have to follow that ship on this forsaken planet, didn't you?

You couldn't just listen to your partner Carson for once when he warned you to let it go.

Chasing that Razor Crest despite the bad weather on Maldo Kreis was not the smartest idea. Not smart at all, in fact.

You were only supposed to ask the pilot why his ship was in the proximity of that prison, Bothan-5, when that officer was killed, but he ran away as soon as he heard that name. You immediately started recklessly chasing that old piece of junk in the hostile atmosphere of this awful, unwelcoming planet, and next thing you know your Starfighter crashed, compromising the integrity of the hatch, you’re cut off from your partner and you’ll likely freeze to death before he can come rescue you. Could it get any worse?

It turns out it can.

Just when you switch the radio off, resigned to accept the unavoidable fate, your eyes seem to catch something dark in the snowstorm. At first you assume it’s just your mind playing tricks on you, but when you take a better look, you see it - there’s a dark figure approaching your ship. It must be him - the Razor Crest pilot. As he gets closer, you notice he’s wearing armour, a Mandalorian armour, and you’ve heard the stories about those deadly warriors. You probably made him angry with your insistent pursuit and now he might be killing you so as not to leave witnesses.

You are so fucked. This is the worst day of your life, and also the last.

He lifts the damaged hatch of your ship and looks at you, exposing you to the freezing air of the blizzard. You stare back at him - his broad figure completely towers over yours, but you try not to look intimidated by him.

"Razor Crest, is that you?" you say in a secure tone, wanting to appear tough.

"Yeah." the modulated voice answers as you feel his dark visor lingering on your figure.

"Came here to finish the job?" you try to sneakily grab your blaster in a desperate attempt to defend your life, determined not to die without fighting, or at least, not without trying.

"Not if you don't try anything stupid like that. Put it down." says in an authoritative tone, his right hand instinctively goes on the holster of his blaster. You quickly realise this is not the moment for heroism if you want to survive.

"Don't give me orders. I'm a New Republic officer." you reply firmly.

He scoffs and shakes his head in disdain.

"Dear officer, take a good look around. This frozen tomb doesn't look like New Republic territory to me." he goads you "Now quit it and let's go to my ship."

"Who says I want to come with you?"

"Come on, I’m freezing my ass off, for fuck’s sake." he loses no time in ripping your seatbelt and life support system off your body before grabbing you and carrying you over on his shoulder.

"Put me down! You're so rude!" you protest and try to kick him, but he blocks your legs in the tight grasp of his free arm, immobilising you.

"So far I've been more kind than you deserve. If you keep acting like that, I'll show you how rude I can be." his grip is firm and strong as he gives a warning squeeze to your thigh.

You do not want to admit it, but you feel a thrill of excitement at that - he doesn’t care about the fact that you're a law enforcer, he’s treating you like the scum he’s used to. He probably wants to trade your life for his freedom with Carson later - you’re his hostage now.

When you reach his ship, he finally puts you down. You take off your helmet and look at the Mandalorian that so unceremoniously saved you from certain death earlier.

You realise how much taller than you he is, his armour making him even broader than what he already is. Your eyes can't help lingering on his body in wonder at how strong he must be, how the shiny beskar perfectly completes his thick masculine figure, only adding to his already imposing stance, perfectly concealing his body, making him massive and statuesque. His suit is tight around the arms, you can see the outline of his thick, strong biceps. If only he wasn’t a criminal, if only you weren’t a New Republic officer, if only he wasn’t a complete cunt…

"You done?" a low, baritonal voice interrupts your dirty thoughts.

"Excuse me?" you raise a brow.

"I asked if you're done checking me out."

“What?! I wasn’t-” you lie and you both know it. You do not feel so cold anymore, your cheeks feel hot all of a sudden.

“Yeah. Sure.” the asshole teases as he rests against the wall of his ship, looking at you with crossed arms.

“You hurt?” he then asks.

“No, I’m fine.”

"Good. Let's go up to the cockpit, then. It's warmer up there."

He climbs up the ladder and when the door closes behind him, you take a deep breath, trying to collect yourself, and follow him.

When you get in the small room, you find him sitting in the pilot chair facing the windshield with crossed arms and legs spread wide. You settle on his side, standing with crossed arms and gaze fixed on his body. He’s as still and silent as a statue, unreadable under that helmet - is he really relaxed as he wants you to think, or is he carefully studying you?

"Don't look at me that way." says without moving a muscle.

"How?"

"Same way you've been looking at me since we got on the ship."

"What are you implying?"

"Don't act like you don't know." he turns towards you and stands up, making you imperceptibly startle. He looks imposing and menacing, his helmet slightly tilted observing you.

"You don't trust me one bit, do you?" he scoffs and shakes his head.

"You assaulted that prison and killed that poor man. He was a New Republic officer, just like me. Why should I trust you?”

“Because I didn’t do it.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“What will you do when you find out I was right all along?” the way he doesn’t lose his cool is fascinating, to a degree.

"You’re not. If you were innocent, you wouldn’t have run away and we wouldn't be here now."

He tilts his helmet to the side once again as he looks at you. His gaze and his confidence make you feel hot and uncomfortable at the same time - you wouldn’t want to give out the undeniable way his stoic charm is affecting you, but you hate the way he's been treating you.

"Yeah, we wouldn't be here." he lets out in an allusive tone as he walks one single step forward while you take one back, ending up against the wall. He's so damn tall and broad and… and you're getting so wet.

You look into his dark visor, feeling his gaze lingering on your body. You can feel the tension, the atmosphere in the cockpit becoming unbearable. It's getting hard to breathe, heat radiating from both of your bodies as you never stop looking at each other. While his sight is unreadable, yours is unmistakably libidinous, your heart pounding in your chest and your pussy throbbing with need, but you're both too proud to surrender first.

"I guess not. You coward." you let out in a far too flirtatious way as you look at him with shameless lust.

"What did you just call me?!" he rasps, sounding so provocative.

"Coward. That's what you are. Running away from me when I was chasing you and taking me hostage when I was so vulnerable.”

“Shut up.”

“So big and tough in your shiny armour, but you run away as soon as you see a New Republic patrol. I should have just shot you when I had the chance. At least I wouldn’t be sharing this ship with a coward.”

“I said shut up.”

“What now, Mandalorian? What do you plan to do now that you've kidnapped me? Are you gonna prove me wrong?" you’re wondering if you got too far when he gets dangerously close to you, his menacing figure towering over yours as he grips a handful of your hair, forcing your gaze into his dark visor.

"Do I have to stick my cock in your mouth to make you shut up?"

A flame of lust instantly traverses your body. You feel your blood boiling, making you feel hot and flustered, reason and common sense leaving you at the mercy of a primal, carnal instinct.

"I bet you don't have the balls to do it." you goad him with a smirk on your face.

Oh, you shouldn't have said that, yet you did, and what's worse is that you don't regret it.

You look at him with shameless desire clouding your eyes, internally cursing at the helmet that can't and won't let you see his reaction to your provocation, waiting for his next move.

You keep your lustful gaze locked on his visor as his hand swiftly unfastens his belt and the zip of his pants. His grip on your hair tightens even more as he pushes you on your knees, immediately sticking his hard, thick cock in your mouth and fuck, the sound he makes. It's worth crashing on a desolated planet and being scolded afterwards. It's guttural and desperate, astonished at how good your poisonous mouth feels when you take him in and your tongue gently swirls around his tip, instead of spitting mean words at him. You keep eye contact as you let the shaft slide in your mouth and coat it generously in your saliva, his head tilted back as he lets out breathy sighs of pleasure.

"You. You need to learn how to fucking behave. Shut up when I tell you to. You have to stop taunting me. Fuck. Is this what you wanted?"

He takes your head away from his cock to let you answer.

“You’re not as much of a coward as I thought you were.” you tease.

“You are still talking?!” exclaims as he pushes your head towards his cock once again, staying still as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, violently forcing all of his length down your throat. When he rips you away from it, you gasp for breath.

"You look so good like this. On your knees, choking on my cock, finally shutting the fuck up like a good girl." he growls, pleased.

Just as you want more of it, your mouth going towards it once again, his grip on your hair turns to steel and stops you there. You look up to him from your kneeled position and see him shaking his head.

“Why? Are you close already?” you taunt him as he tucks his cock back in his pants.

"Oh, it will take you way more than that to make me come, officer." says as he makes you stand up.

“Bet you want me to prove you wrong so badly. Bet you want to come in my m-” you stop mid sentence as he starts to unzip your flight suit while he pushes you towards the control panel of his ship, making you sit on it and trapping you there with his beskar body, your legs instinctively spread open for him to fit between them.

“Yeah? Go on. What were you saying?” he goads you as his hand slips inside of the thin pants you're wearing under the suit, teasing your clit from outside your underwear.

“I-I was s-saying that - that-” you gasp when his hand finds its way into your panties and reaches your slit.

"Ooh, what do we have here?" exclaims in taunting wonder. His beskar helmet is only a few centimetres distant from your face "Acting all cocky and arrogant before, but damn, feel how wet you are. Bet no one ever made you this wet, officer. Stars, you're dripping for me. All of this just from sucking my cock?" says in a husky voice as two of his thick, gloved fingers slide inside of you.

You grit your teeth in a desperate attempt to hide the way this is making you feel, not wanting to give him satisfaction, but your body is slowly surrendering to him and betraying you, your cunt involuntarily clamping around his fingers, revealing how his words are, in fact, effective on you.

"Oh, I bet you feel so good and you sound so sweet when you moan for me. Feel how hot and tight you are." he keeps teasing you.

Resisting him is getting near impossible. By now he knows how badly you want it.

"Listen to what we’re gonna do now. You're gonna come on my fingers like a good girl and then I'll fuck you until your partner comes to rescue you."

You can't help it anymore and let out a moan at how sensual his voice sounds as he says those things to you, at the thought of getting fucked by him, all while his fingers keep sliding inside and outside of you, making your cunt spasm around them.

"Oh, I knew it. Damn, such a sweet girl." he rasps as he takes his fingers out.

"What the fuck?!" you snap at him when he does, making him chuckle at your reaction.

"Hey, calm down officer." he teases your lips with his gloved fingers soaked in your arousal.

You instinctively suck the leather and taste yourself on his fingers, licking them sensually as you look at him in the visor. He hums in pleasure seeing that and goes on playing with your mouth, entranced by the way your tongue swirls around them, until he takes them out and presses his middle finger on your bottom lip.

"Bite." he simply orders and you obey, taking the hem of his glove between your teeth to let his hand slip out of the glove. It's huge compared to yours, callous and veiny and masculine. You hum as it starts trailing down your body and feel the warm trail it leaves on the delicate skin of your neck as he caresses it, your own hands holding tight to the commands of the ship, propping you up to offer yourself to his touch. You can feel his eyes looking at your body from behind the dark visor as his hand slips in your flight suit once again, groping your breast from outside your shirt, his thumb playing with one of your hardened nipples, your back arched and chest puffed out to make it look fuller. You moan loudly when he slides his fingers in your panties and back inside of you.

"Stars - so fucking wet. I bet your cunt is so beautiful. Spread your legs for me. You're making me so fucking hard." he keeps up the pace and also starts to rub your clit with his thumb, making the pleasure you’re feeling unable to hide and you surrender to him, panting heavily as your eyes cross and roll in delight.

"Really? Eyes rolling, officer?" he taunts you.

"F-fuck y-you-" you rasp with half closed eyes, your sentence gets interrupted as he hooks his fingers, touching something devastating inside of you, making him scoff when he sees the way you squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back, your mouth wide open to let out obscene moans.

"What? Do you want me to stop?" he provokes you.

"Don't you fucking dare." you manage to let out in a barely audible sigh.

He immediately grabs your neck, not liking the way you undermine his authority.

"Careful now, officer." he growls.

You moan back in response at how much you like this - being put back into place, the Mandlaorian reminding you who is in control. You hold tight to his sides, digging your nails in his flight suit as he just pushes you further against the control panel with his body.

You’re a panting mess and you feel so close, so damn close to your orgasm. You beg he won’t stop as you wrap your legs around him. He feels by the irregular, ragged way you're breathing and the way your muscles go rigid around him that you're close.

"What? Coming already?” he chuckles “I will let you just because I want to fuck you so badly. Now come, my dear officer. Come for me."

You pant straight into his helmet when you hear him calling you like that, fogging it where his mouth would be. His hand pushes you over the edge and you moan loudly as he makes you come around his fingers, your hands holding tight to his neck, bringing him down towards you. Your back arches, chest rubbing against his armour and you roll your head back until it hits the transparisteel of the windshield behind you. Your nails scratch him hard and your legs’ grip becomes even tighter, his upper body now trapped in your grasp.

He grabs your chin with his other hand and forces you to look at him in the visor.

"Yes - yes, yes. Like this. Good girl." he growls between his teeth, looking at you as you struggle to keep your gaze on him, your eyes wanting to roll up in pleasure.

He lets you ride your high, never stopping those astounding moves of his hand, making you feel so satisfied, but so guilty and humiliated at the same time.

As the orgasm gradually fades out, your grip on his body loosens.

He takes out his hand right in front of your eyes and, Maker, it's soaking wet, glistening in your arousal. You’re both embarrassed and aroused when you see how wet and yielding you got for him as soon as he started touching you.

"Damn, officer. How am I going to-"

You don't even let him finish, you've taken his hand in yours and start sucking his fingers. He lets out a satisfied hum when you do that. You clean them thoroughly, sensually massaging his digits with your tongue, humming as you hear him cursing between his teeth in a foreign language.

Once he’s satisfied, he takes them out of your avid mouth.

"Now strip for me, officer. I bet you look so hot under that uniform."

"Forget it." you tease him.

"Too bad you didn't obey me when I asked so nicely."

In an instant his hands start ripping the flight suit off your body as you're kicking out of your boots at the same time. It's rushed, brutal and wild, the both of you completely taken over by lust. His hands linger on your sides, giving you goosebumps and making you sigh when he lifts the thermal shirt off your body and you hold on tight to the panel when he hooks his fingers in the hem of your pants and pulls everything down and away from your body, leaving you completely naked in front of him.

“You look… Good without your uniform on, officer.” he is pleased looking at your naked body. “Wonder if I could say the same about you, Mandalorian.” “You’ll have to use your imagination."

“Are you even a real Mandalorian? Maybe you stole this armour, or maybe you bought it off some Jawas.” you mock him.

"Come here and I’ll show you." he simply says as he sits back on his chair, legs spread wide and a visible bulge in his pants.

Just as you get close to him, he takes out one of his weapons, a strange sword without a blade, and begins to trace your nipple with the hilt. You start to breathe heavily and you can feel your nipple getting harder by the second, your eyes carefully following his movements as he descends ever so slowly, teasing you, trailing your stomach and then your lower belly, stopping right in front of your cunt, driving you crazy, your legs spreading for him, begging for some friction. He softly brushes your lips, carefully avoiding your clit to tease you further, until he finally touches it. The sudden contact of the hilt with your sensitive clit makes you shudder and let out a whimper.

"Don't. Move." he orders as he continues to touch you with that weapon, rubbing it against your clit, producing obscene, wet sounds at the contact. You try to stay as still as you can as he plays with that dangerous weapon so close to your most delicate spot. You beg he'd go faster, you wish you could ride it and come all over it, as pathetic as it sounds, but no, he doesn't want that. He wants to take his time to tease you, getting you nice and wet as he plays with you like you're his toy.

He stands up, towering over you.

"Stick your tongue out."

You immediately do and he starts to trace your mouth with the hilt.

"This is the Darksaber. Whoever wields it can rule all of Mandalore, and you're licking it after I've used it to give you pleasure. Feel how wet you’ve made it. How does that make you feel?"

“Like you should sit down on that chair and take out that cock. Touch yourself while I lick your Darksaber clean, Mandalorian.”

He grunts as you push him back on his chair. He immediately unzips his pants to take his throbbing cock out as you keep licking his weapon clean, pleased at the sight of his erection in his hand.

"Touch yourself for me, Mando" you order him as you trace your tongue on the hilt.

"Enough of that." he grabs you by the hair and pushes you on your knees, forcing you to suck his cock. In a swift movement he grabs the Darksaber with his two hands, using it as leverage to keep your head down, forcing his entire cock into your throat, making you startle at the sudden lack of air.

"You don't get to give me orders." he growls before freeing you from his grasp to let you breathe. You gasp for air and look at him, panting.

Maker, he's so dangerous. He could kill you in one second if he wanted to, and you've never, never been wetter than this, playing this dangerous, twisted game with a deadly warrior.

He gives you a few seconds to breathe and then he's back at it, using his weapon to make you choke on his cock.

"Do you understand? I can do whatever I want to you." he releases you once again. There are tears in the corner of your eyes but that doesn't stop him from doing that one more time.

"You're so fucking pretty, but you also need someone to tame you. You've found the right man. Is that what you were looking for, officer? Someone to tame that bad temper?" he says and releases you one more time. You gasp for air as one tear sheds down your cheek.

"Come here. I'll fuck that bad attitude out of you." he orders as he puts the Darksaber away.

This. This is what you've always been craving, what you always wanted.

You slowly rise from the cold floor, your hands on his thighs as you can't stop looking at each other with longing desire. You straddle him, shaking in anticipation as you sink on his body guided by his hands on your hips, letting his cock slowly slide inside of you. The both of you moan as his cock splits you open for him, making him feel how hot and welcoming you are. You both let out a long, satisfied sigh, his voice is dark and sensual and you spasm around his throbbing cock, heavily aroused to finally have him inside of you.

“Mando, let me see if you're only good with words now."

“Din. I want to hear you screaming my name when I’ll make you come on my cock, officer.”

“You’re pretty confident in your abilities, Mandalorian.”

“Your mouth might say otherwise, but your body agrees with me.” he's so arrogant and full of himself, his confidence is making you wet.

“It does” you concede “you feel good, Din.” you purr in his neck, and he grunts when he hears how sweet your voice can be as you whisper his name while you have his cock buried inside of you. You start riding him slowly, looking at him in the visor as you feel every ridge and vein of his cock, enjoying every single moment of it, letting him almost slip out, only to let him back inside of you. He lets out sighs of satisfaction that drive you insane and only want to make you increase your rhythm but no, not yet, you want to make him pay for the way he's been treating you.

“If I had known my cock would have been enough to tame your bad temper, I’d have fucked you earlier.”

“What about yours, Din? What should I do about you being an asshole to me?” you say as you pull him out of you, making him grunt.

“Fuck. Put it back in.”

“Not so fast. I want you to behave. Beg for it.”

“You know I could just take you anytime I want, right?” “I do. But where would the fun be?”

He hums in pleasure as you take his drenched cock in your hand and start to slowly stroke it right in front of your cunt, moaning in his neck just to get him even more aroused.

“Fuck. You’re good at this.” he whimpers.

You start to slide it between your folds, the both of you moaning in arousal.

“Dank Farrik, d-do you want me to die?” he growls, subjugated by your teasing. “I want you to behave.” you whisper in a heady groan as you keep rolling your hips and rubbing your pussy on his cock. “F-fuck. I want to be inside of you so badly.”

“Say it.”

He sighs and pauses, taking a good look at the tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

“Please.”

“Please what?” you ask, biting your lip in pleasure.

“Please put my cock back inside of you, officer.” there's a hint of annoyance in his voice when he surrenders and sees your satisfied smirk.

“Good.” you whisper gasping against his helmet as you slowly slide his cock deep back inside of you.

That’s the moment when he digs his fingers in your hips and starts jackhammering you, making you scream as he said he would, your hands clawing on his shoulders.

“Who do you think you are? Do you think you can taunt me? I’m a Mandalorian. A bounty hunter. Bet you’ve never been fucked so good, officer. I’m gonna give you this cock so hard, you’ll never forget about me. You’ll be touching yourself thinking about me for the rest of your life. Thinking about the Mandalorian Din Djarin who fucked your brains out on Maldo Kreis.”

The way he's fucking hard and rough into you as he says those things in an angry, husky voice is pleasurably devastating and addicting, having you moan frantically as your body is held still by his strong hands.

"Oh, fuck, Din, don't stop. Don't stop!" you let out in a desperate cry.

"Do you want to come on my cock, officer? Let me hear it. I want to hear you beg for it."

"Please, please Din, make me come on your cock." you drawl, subjugated by lust.

"Mmm - you sound so hot when you beg for me. Keep going and I won't stop."

"Please! I've never been fucked like this, Din." your heart is racing, your breathing is getting laboured and feel the orgasm approaching “I'm so close, Din, so fucking close. Please, don’t stop."

"Come, officer. Keep riding my cock and come on it. I want to hear you scream my name."

"Oh, Din!" you scream his name as the overwhelming force of the orgasm washes over you, a white blaze of bliss making you lose control, uncontrollably spasming and sensually moaning as he doesn't stop giving it to you, groaning in pleasure when he feels how tight and wet you get around him when you come on his dick.

"That's it. That's my good girl." he grunts as he lets you ride your orgasm.

His rhythm slows down as you come back from your high, his hands still firmly on your hips, guiding you, making you slowly grind your pussy against his cock, the cockpit full of your pants.

"Ready for round two, officer?"

He doesn’t even wait for your response, your mind still fogged by the astonishing orgasm he just gave you.

He gets up from the chair and in a second he turns you around, your body slammed against the control panel and the windshield, your wrists held up high by his hand. Your legs are shaking and you can't really seem to stand on your feet properly.

You couldn't possibly be ready for him slamming his dick inside of you all at once, so hard that air leaves your lungs in an exhale. You'd curse at him, but you can't articulate words as he is fucking you so violently, his strong hand on your hip keeping you still. If you thought he was fucking you hard earlier, it's nothing compared to now - feeling all the power of his body giving it to you wild and raw is pleasurably devastating. You couldn't possibly have imagined that what he gave you earlier was merely foreplay for him, just a little tease before making sure you knew who is really in charge and how hard he can fuck you. He was just letting you have a small taste of what would happen after, wanting you to get ready for him, nice and wet and stretched open for his thick cock to split you in half. He grabs a fistful of your hair and you feel his helmet close to your ear.

"What? You're out of breath already? I'm just getting started, officer." he slides it out almost completely and slams it back in so hard you roll your eyes in pleasure.

"Look at you. Loving this dick so much you're rolling your eyes. Gonna fuck you so hard, you'll learn how to fucking behave."

You can't do anything besides taking his cock and letting out choked moans.

"Still regret being stuck here with me? Tell me. Do you still think I'm a coward?" he growls in between thrusts.

You can barely drawl a moan in response and he chuckles.

"Yeah, I don't think so. You can't even speak." he mocks you as he pounds into you harder and harder, devastating you, reducing you to a pathetic, moaning mess.

"Who knows if the snow storm has stopped and your partner is looking for you. What if he sees you getting fucked like this?"

You know it's wrong, but the thought turns you on so much that you clench around him, and he feels it.

"Oh, you'd like it? Officer, what do we have here? A little whore?" you hear his dark chuckle as he grips your throat with his hand, bringing you closer to him - the hot, naked skin of your back against his cold beskar armour as he never stops railing you.

Getting called like that in other circumstances, by any other person in the galaxy, would have caused you to shoot them immediately, but now, oh, did that turn you on.

"You like being called that way, don't you? Whore." he whispers softly in your ear, and it drives you insane despite how much you're trying to hide it. He feels your body getting rigid, the vibrations of your throat choking a moan, the way you bite your lip trying not to let one sound out, and you can bet he's loving every second of it.

His other hand starts to rub your clit and that's when you fucking lose it - your mouth opens wide and lets out a loud groan of pleasure.

"Tell me you're my whore and I'll give you the best orgasm of your life."

You hesitate - his request is so degrading, but you want it at the same time. He can sense your indecisiveness and stops drawing circles on your clit and starts going around it, carefully avoiding it.

"N-no. Don't stop. It's unfair!" you whimper.

"Say it."

You try to relieve the ache between your legs by bringing a hand there, but he is quick to stop you and block your wrist behind your back, immobilising you as if you were one of his bounties, getting you even more aroused, so much, in fact, that you let out another groan.

"Don't make me handcuff you." he growls sensually and you immediately picture him fighting criminals every day, used to manhandling thugs and being a badass and you get even more aroused at the thought, and decide to give him whatever he wants.

You mumble those words, barely audible, ashamed but at the same time yielding, desperately and pathetically wanting him to give you what you so achingly crave, in a way that only he can provide. A need that you never even realised existed before he brought you into the highest dimension of pleasure.

"What? I didn't hear you."

"I am your whore." you whisper, annihilated.

"Good girl. Say it again. Louder this time."

"I am your whore, Din! Please, please make me come like this!" you surrender to him completely, defeated by your very body refusing to let this slip away.

"That's my girl. You asked so nicely, I'm gonna give it to you." you hear the satisfaction in his voice as he immediately starts to rub your clit again, driving you close to the edge in no time, your cunt getting tighter in anticipation.

“Shit, I want to come inside of you. I'm so fucking close, officer. You’re gonna patrol the outer rim, flying your Starfighter while my cum drips down your beautiful cunt. You’re gonna feel that and you will think of me the entire time.” he rasps in your ear as you feel his body pushing you further into the transparisteel and then over the edge, making you come screaming his name once again rolling your eyes over your lids, desperately begging him to come inside of you.

His groans get louder and louder as he comes. You feel his is cock pulsing and twitching, thrusting into you, wanting to go as deep as it can go, filling you with his hot release as you clamp erratically around him.

Both of your bodies are spent as you come back from your high, the sound of your laboured breathing fills the cockpit.

"Hey" he pants "keep it inside now. I don't want to see a single drop going to waste. Are we clear?"

You nod and he slips out of you slowly as you obey his order, keeping his release inside of you as you get dressed, feeling it drip between your legs as he walks you back to your ship.

Carson is already there - he has fixed the minor damages your X-wing had sustained when you crashed in the snow, confident in the fact that you found shelter somewhere and that you’re safe and will be back soon.

What he did not expect is for you to show up with the Mandalorian by your side, though.

"Can I have a few words with you?" he asks with a raised brow.

You nod and walk a few steps away from Din, going behind your ship to have some privacy.

"He saved my life." you regretfully admit before he even has a chance to speak, expecting a scolding.

"Listen. I run the tabs on the Razor Crest. It seems like your new friend has an arrest warrant on him for the abduction of a prisoner." he pauses briefly and lets out a sigh "But he has also captured three wanted culprits and tried to save the Lieutenant's life."

"I'd say we let him go this time. I really don't want to file a report about what happened. I hate doing that."

"Is that so?" he asks sarcastically.

"These are trying times, come on."

Carson raises his brow once again, looking at you and then at the armoured menace standing a few steps away from him.

“Fine.” he shrugs, not wanting to dig deeper with regards to your change of mind towards the Mandalorian, then gets back to his ship.

You jump in your X-wing, but before closing the hatch and taking off, you address Din one more time.

"We're even now, Din Djarin. See you next time, and don't get caught."

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hollysoda · 7 months

Text

Dragon of Time - one of the largest dragons to be seen in the skies. It is said to be the oldest of its brothers, having been reported to exist in many eras, and was therefore named after its timelessness. Though some doubt whether it truly is a good dragon, for the sharp markings on its face and whitened eyes give off the impression of something dangerous

Wolf Dragon - named for its furry wolf-like appearance. It only breaks the cloud barrier at dusk and roams the night, it’s somber howl becoming a folklore for travellers in forests. Legends say that it was once a friend of the Twili, and it circles around the Arbiter’s Grounds every night

Warrior Dragon - named for the metal plating that covers its back, and for how it only seems to appear before soldiers of pure heart/soldiers down on their luck. It is said that seeing the Warrior Dragon will bless the person with strength and courage, and if a feather from one of its blue whiskers were to fall before a captain they would be ensured victory

Winged Dragon - the rarest of the dragons, for it favours staying above the clouds and roaming the islands in the sky. Unlike most other dragons, it is more bird like, being covered in crimson feathers and sprouting large wings. It’s red feathers sometimes fall to the surface, and if spotted by a romantic couple they are blessed with eternal love. Some researchers argue that the Winged Dragon is even older than the Dragon of Time

Fairy Dragon - this dragon is often seen floating above Fairy Fountains, and it is said that new fairies are born from this dragon’s scales. It too has wings, but these ones are shaped like a butterflies. Some ancient texts read that parts of fairy dragon can heal even the most fatal injury or sickness, and a great evil once sort out the dragon in order to revive their leader

Long-Eared Dragon - an unusually pink dragon, adorned with golden horns and claws and most notably long rabbit-like ears. It soars around the entirety of Hyrule, but more sightings of it have been recorded around Eventide Island than anywhere else. If you are lucky enough to get close to this dragon, there is a sense of great calm in the air around it, as if the spirit within once fought many hard battles and now roams the sky in peace

Wind Dragon - a brilliant blue dragon that is a popular legend amongst seafarers and fishermen. It roams the coastlines, and is even said to sometimes dwell under water as there are stories of large draconic shadows being spotted beneath boats. If you ever feel a sharp breeze steering your sail away from your destination, it is most likely the Wind Dragon warning you of danger. However, the Wind Dragon is also often blamed for dangerous storms

Rainbow Dragon - a remarkably smaller and yet colourful dragon with iridescent scales. It is said to harness the powers of wind, fire, water and the earth combined, making it quite difficult to approach. Legends spread amongst blacksmiths say that if one were to meld one of its scales to a weapon the weapon would become unbreakable, and in an age where smithing is becoming a lost art many pray that they’re lucky enough to see the dragon

Dragon of the Wild - perhaps the most commonly reported dragon, for some claim to have known the spirit that resides within. It flies low around the entirety of Hyrule, but will then also return to the skies to fly with the Light Dragon. Over recent years it has become a staple sight in Hyrule and stories of the dragons origins have been passed down from generation to generation. It has become a commonly worshipped symbol for adventurers and soldiers alike

#sorry if the names for some of these suck I was struggling #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu sky #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu wind #lu four #lu wild #draconified links au

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gxbbyhoneybadger · 1 year

Note

Can you please do a part two of mission .???!!!

Oh my! Well, of course anonymous user. Never though there'd be a sequel but oh well! Part 2 is right here now!

Mission XXXIV-XXXV

Part 2

Pairing: !Yautja!Scar x !F!Shy!Reader

Summary: Y/n wakes up in a different place, her home no longer anywhere and instead placed within a strange cell with different Warriors watching her. Soon she's delivered to kneel in front of an Elder—next thing she knew, she was mated with Scar. Becoming first Yautja mated couple ever in their history, but for Y/n to permanently be respected as one of them, she must first become a Warrior.

Warnings: Adult language, threats, assault, scarification, death, arguments, anxiety, fluff, teasing, sexual tension, eventual smut, gentle to rough smut, clawing, biting, comfort.

A/n: The Roman numerals in the title translate to 34-35. So it means Mission 34-35 . . . Or Mission-69 heheh. I also did some studying on their language, (keyword: some.)

Fun Fact (Maybe): I saw a comic page and read that the Yautja can "speak" through their own sign language: Hand-signal of the Hunt. Or Silent Hand.

Part 1

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut.

~Y/n pov~

Was my bed always this cold? I fell asleep in his arms, and I finally woke up alone in a dark place. I gasped as I backed up and hit my head on the cold wall, I shivered as I tried to figure out my surroundings. I was naked, the only thing I had was my old blanket, I hugged it as I stood up on my feet.

My thighs ached from—I shuddered remembering that I lost my virginity to whatever creature he was. I walked to the cell bars and tried to see if there was anyone here, "H-Hello?" I said, "Hello! I-Is anyone there! Can you please tell me where I am!?"

I could hear muffled beeping noises from down the halls, everything was unusual and unfamiliar for me. "Please! Anyone-! Gah!" I yelped—two large beasts walked in front of me. I stepped back and watched them, they wore similar masks with different designs. Around seven feet tall, both musclar beasts.

". . . W-Where am I?" I whispered, they clicked and growled lowly to each other. I could hear some soft of soft engine humming around us, where was I? "Please! Tell me where I am!" I begged.

They both looked to the left as another creature like them clicked out and order or some sort of command, one of them unlocked the cell before the second walked in towards me. "W-Who are you-? Hey! Let me go!" I yelped—he pulled me out by my arm and pushed me to walk forwards. I'd instantly get killed if I tried to fight any of them, I just obeyed and went along with their orders.

~3rd pov~

The Yautjas led Y/n deeper into their ship when it just landed on their planet, Yautja Prime, she was given a collar and had her wrists chained before she was brought out. She was so lost in the new world, being pulled along like a dog and shown off as an accessory to the other fellow Yautjas who lived there. Each one stared at her with confusion and judgement, thinking of her as a weak opponent to kill.

The two dragged her to a large empire, the large stairs led into a hall which opened up into a room where a Clan Leader sat. He had multiple spikes and grown dreadlocks that almost touched his thighs, his claws tapping on his throne chair as Y/n was forced to her knees in front of him.

She was terrified and lost, she held onto her blanket as she watched Scar, wearing his silver mask, approach the Elder. She couldn't understand what they were saying, but it sounded close to a argument, or Scar trying to convince the Elder to allow something. Y/n glanced behind her and saw the other Yautjas, all glancing at the Elder and Scar before down at her.

She was shaking like a leaf while she knelt there defenseless, Scar stepped aside as the Elder snarled while standing up. He raised his left hand and signaled one of the Yautjas to bring him an item; she jumped when she heard the familiar screeching of a Xenomorph before one of them killed it. The seven foot creature handed the Elder a severed finger of the Xenomorph and approached Y/n—he removed her chains as his eyes examined her frail form.

She gasped when his rough hand held her shoulder, her eyes found Scar's as the Elder clenched her shoulder for her attention. "W-What are you doing?" She asked him. "You are Blooded." The Elder said to her, his tone deeper than Scar's was. She let her eyes close when he brought the acidic finger to her cheek, scarring her skin permanently with a symbol of her Xenomorph kill.

Scar was informing the Elder of her kill, and how she managed to use one of their weapons against their enemy species, how she proved to be an ally and a warrior. She clenched her jaw in pain from the burning feeling, he then stepped back and looked at the Warriors. Y/n gulped as she reached up to feel the permanent mark on her cheek before everyone roared in unison—she covered her ears again. After they were done the Elder Yautja approached Scar and held his shoulder, clicking and snarling as they communicated in their language.

Scar growled but the Elder snarled back, before looking at her. "W-Why am I here? What's going to happen to me!" She whimpered out with fear rattling her nerves. A Yautja approached the Elder, his dreadlocks were short and he looked slightly smaller than Scar did—in his hands he carried some sort of pelt from one of the creatures that probably lived on this planet with them, something was packaged within it.

The Elder Yautja pointed at her and the Yautja walked to her before dropping it at her knees, "W-What is this?" She asked, she heard the muffled snarling and clicks coming from the other Yautjas behind her. Her hands trembled as she reached for the package, untying the skin like thread and unfolding it.

Seeing a few pieces of rather revealing clothing, if you can even call it clothing. "I-I don't think this is appropriate-?", "Dress yourself." The Elder growled out to her. She lifted the strange light green colored top that would just barely even cover her breasts. Her sides would be bare and the bottom would reveal her legs, she sighed from the outfit choice but stood up with the pieces before glancing at Scar. "Do I. . . dress up here?"

The Elder looked away and communicated with Scar instead, Y/n with no other choice, started to slip on and try the outfit, of course still having the blanket over herself. The bottom was similar to a thong beneath the hanging pieces of cloth attached to it, she pulled it up and let the cloth hang—covering just her front and rear, reaching to her knees while her thighs and waist were exposed. She grabbed the top next, seeing that it'll only cover her breasts and nothing else, she'll be showing sideboob, but hopefully the front will be hidden.

She tied a knot with the strings behind her neck and let it remain covering her chest just barely. She rechecked to see if she was fully covered before looking at Scar and the Elder who were now looking at her—she sighed and dropped the blanket. Showing her new two-piece outfit that she'll most likely have to keep on for however long she's kept here. She hugged her arms when the Elder signaled for them to leave, Scar walked to her and escorted her out of the temple.

"Why am I here? What is this place?" She questioned Scar, now covering her stomach as she passed dozens of more Yautjas. Everyone of them were males, adults or in their teen years. Some wore armor, while some didn't. The weather was warm and sunny, it didn't feel cold at all. "Where are you taking me?"

Scar led her to a further place away from the others, approaching a medium sized hut. Skulls and bones remained hanging around it, his trophies of past hunts. He led her inside left her there. "Well, this is great. I get fucked by some sort of alien, fall asleep and wake up to a knockoff Pandora planet like I'm in some sort of Avatar movie, and now I'm wearing this slutty outfit like I'm a stripper or something! I don't even know your name, that big one in that temple was looking at me like I was his next meal, I don't know what's going on and you still aren't saying anything to me-!"

"Scar." He growled as he approached her, easily overshadowing her as he watched her. "S-Scar?. . . That's your name?" She whispered as she slightly stepped back. "Top-Knot ha-as agreed to ma-ake you Blooded ally. He accepts yo-ou, but for yo-ou to keep your non-co. You mus-st become a kv'var-de." Y/n could piece his words together, but she didn't understand that word.

"A-A what? A kavalar?" Scar shook his head and knelt on one knee to be close to her height. "Kv'var-de. . . Hunter." He said. Y/n looked at her clothing then at him, "What if I don't want to become a hunter?" She whispered, "I'm weak. I'm not like you or the others out there. . . I'm just. . . Human."

He snarled, tilting his head but remained watching her, "M-di ooman can kill kiande amedha." He growled out. ". . . Huh?" His mandibles clicked as he stood again. "We te-each each othe-er." He said before walking out of the area and into another small room in the hut. She was left confused and lost in their language, how long is this going to last?

~Y/n pov~

Scar was true to his word about teaching each other something. He showed me how to sign, speak, and understand their language, after he tested my learning by signing a sentence out for me. Which I barely understood, so he flicked my head for messing up—it shouldn't have hurt as much as it did, but I forgot how much bigger and stronger he was compared to me. I'd teach him how to pronounce and understand English words and sentences, and in return, I'd be able to smack his chest—which I doubt even hurt this S'yuit-de.

He'd throw tiny insults here and there at me, call me a Hulij-bpe jehdin, which I finally found that it meant Crazy One, or Crazy Individual. So in return for learning his language, I called him S'yuit-de kv'var-de, which meant Pathetic Hunter, or Idiot Hunter. And I knew it offended him when he'd just quietly glare down at me, but I enjoyed it. At least four or three days have passed already and I've been dragged out into the unfamiliar world, I'd watch how he'd hunt and kill our next meal. It was upsetting but oddly satisfying to see. I saw the trees and strange like flying creatures that they had, but nothing prepared me to see the females who passed through.

I could feel their judgemental eyes lingering on me when I wasn't looking, they were taller than the males. Around eight feet tall at most, broader and rather aggressive. "Why are they staring at me?" I whispered to Scar. "They do not approve of ooman-dei."

They don't approve of human women. . . That explains it. They'd snap and flare their mandibles when I looked at them, I kept my eyes and head low out of submission, to not pose as a threat. I felt like I was at a new school and the mean girls were already scheming against me. Scar pulled my arm and held me against his body when a Yautja approached us, it was a female and of course she started to communicate to him.

My broken understanding of the Yautja language could only pick up so much. They rarely talk, but they used sounds to communicate to one another. The female arched her back and flared her mandibles at Scar, he roared at her before she shoved my shoulder back. Almost shoving me to the ground if it weren't for Scar's hand.

He told me about this. When a Yautja pushes your shoulder with their hand: they're challenging you for a fight.

I started to panic, my strength was nothing compared to Scar's, or even a female! I didn't know what they were clearly arguing about but it made her pissed off to the point where she wanted to fight me. And most likely kill me during that fight. "What's happening?!" I asked. She roared at me and Scar finally shoved her backwards out of defense when she tried to grab me.

He picked me up and his lower mandibles were flaring, before he carried me away from the female who was staring me down.

~~~

He didn't bring it up once, but it was on replay in my head, I'm pretty sure he sensed my confusion since he decided to lay beside me on the large furry cot. It was soft and comfortable to lay on, something I didn't expect. ". . . Scar, how long am I going to stay here." I asked him.

He raised his hand and tested me, he signed out what I could possibly read out as: Until you become Hunter. I held my head before asking, "How much time do I have until the Elders test me?"

He signed again: Two Weeks.

I groaned and laid on my back as I looked at the ceiling, I still wore the same revealing outfit before looking at him. "Why was that female mad? Did I do something wrong?" I whispered to him. "M-di. . . She wanted me to breed her." He answered.

"Why did she challenge me?" I questioned, slowly scooting closer to his larger frame and resting my head on his bicep. "I said m-di to her. I told her that you were my mate." I looked at him and felt my heart jump out of my chest. His mate. His mate!

"I-I—You told me that Yautja don't mate for life, you just. . . Reproduce?" Scar lowly purred before his sharp eyes looked in mine. "No-t you and me." He replied. I rested my face on his large pec and bit my lip, feeling that flutter of butterflies swirl in my gut when I thought of being his. His alone. He's not going to mate with anyone else except me. It then led me to getting an idea that would probably scare the crap out of any other chick, but not me, clearly I'm the crazy one for wanting to fuck this Yautja.

I sat up and sighed as I let my head hang back, "Do you still think about it? That night we spent together?" I asked him, he let out a deep growl before I turned and straddle his large hips. His eyes opened and found mine, "I still think about it." I added—letting my hips slowly grind against his loincloth, which I felt growing stiffer every passing second.

"Prove that you are not just kv'var-de, but a good Pauk-de as well." I smirked. Kv'var-de meant Hunter, but Pauk-de meant Fucker. His growl reverberated through me before he shoved me onto my back, pinning my arms above my head as he growled at me. "Do no-t temp me, Hulij-bpe jehdin." He warned, his dreadlocks brushed against my shoulders and arms. I let my right leg graze his waist as I arched my back on purpose—letting my top press perfectly against my breasts to show them off to him.

"What if I want you tempted?" I giggled, his mandibles clicked and snapped, he growled before placing his jaws on my shoulder and biting down on me. I gasped and let out a choked groan when he released my skin, licking up the blood that formed from the small puncture wounds.

"You need me to ell-osde' puak." He snarled out, I understood those words clearly: You need me to fuck you. "Sei-i." I mewled, yes, yes, I did want him to fuck me. I don't know what's been up with me, but I've been craving more of Scar ever since I got here. I've been pissing him off to make him snap, but clearly he has restraint. Maybe all I needed to do was make it obvious.

I lifted my hips into his and bit my lip when I felt his erection, "Come on, puak me, Scar." I purred. His jaws snapped in front of my face, I only responded by lifting my head and licking his mandibles. He held my wrists down with one hand, and let his other reach down to move my cloth to the side. A soft sigh left me when I felt his large length rub against my folds, "Kwei ooman-dei. . ." He snarled. Sly human woman.

I wanted to try something I've never done, but I wasn't sure. "Scar, please." I begged. His repetitive clicking was a sign of him chuckling at me, I whimpered when he notched the tip of his unnatural cock inside of me. Slowly pushing each inch into me, I could feel my cunt being stretched and accepting his invading length.

His hands clenched my wrists while he continued to sheath himself inside of me—finally gasping when his full cock was buried inside of my velvet canal. My legs hugged his sides as I arched my back, "Scar!" I moaned out; his scale covered body was emitting heat onto mine, his hand undid my top before he cupped my breasts. Squeezing and kneading them—exploring my body with his hand.

Slowly, he started to roll his hips into me. He earned multiple mewls, grunts, and moans from me; hisses and growls came from him, his tongue trailed up from between the valleys of my breasts, up my throat and into my mouth. I whined as I pressed my tongue against his forked one, he pulled out and heavily thrusted himself into me.

"Eek!" I yelped, I felt his claws tickle my side as it brushed down the side of my ribs and my waist to hold my thigh open. He watched as he slowly pulled out to the tip—then sinking back into me. Purring as he enjoyed the sensation of his cock being squeezed by my tight cunt, "More, more, Scar!" I pleaded as I clenched my knuckles.

Scar enjoyed being in control, taking his time and relaxing in the experience. He told me that the females were aggressive during their mating, and from what happened this morning, I believed him. Scar's pumps into me was satisfying to hear, it felt so amatory. He finally released my wrists and gripped my hips—he stood on his knees and lifted my lower body off the bed. I cried out when he continued to fuck me in such a lewd position.

It was so hot to see this Predator take what he wanted from me, such a sweet way but with harsh strength. "Ngh! Yes! Yes! Scar! Ah, keep going!" I exhorted out. Scar's snarls turn into a growling purr as he dug his nails into my flesh—I felt his thrusts get a bit harder. My mouth was agape as he started to get quicker with his grinding. He stilled inside of me fully for a moment and lifted my back towards his face—dragging his tongue over my breasts and tasting me.

I hummed with satisfaction as I let my body melt in his hands, he was so strong, it didn't bother him to hold me and fuck me at the same time. I touched his dreadlocks and licked one of them, he roared before he started to piston his cock up into my stretched cunt. "Oh fuck!" I screamed out with agonizing pleasure. The room was already hot and so was the weather, my body was shedding sweat as he grinded his musclar self onto me.

I dug my nails into his shoulders as he kept going, moaning at each heavy pump he made—my nails dragged down his skin but he didn't care. I doubted he even felt it. His skin texture was so different compared to mine, his strength, his eyes, his demeanor and culture. Everything was unique about him.

My end was nearing, I was going to cum, I was so close to cumming. I let my hand started teasing my clit as he kept fucking me, his large paw cupped my head while he wrapped the other around my waist—still keeping me midair. Weak and broken gasps croaked from my soaked lips as he kept getting rougher.

That tight band—tighter and coiling up in a tight ball, about to blow. The light from the stick of dynamite about to denote within my nerves—my hands instinctively grabbed his dreadlocks and held on. He roared again and hugged my torso tightly. Thrusting faster than before, my tongue was hanging out like a bitch in heat, my heart racing faster than a race horse as I finally squealed—feeling my juices coat our lower areas.

The spark ignited and finally blew. The shocks burned through my limbs and my sight went white as I shut my eyes, my breath lost from my lungs as I climaxed on his thick cock still ramming into me. My sensitive squeaks and cries were ignored by Scar—he was lost in the wave of his own pleasure.

I knew we'd be here all night, I'm tired out, but he won't be anytime soon. He told me he finished quickly last time because I was exhausted, but now, I'm sure he'll stop. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and rested my head on him, he still didn't slow down. My body was beginning to feel like lead as I tried to speak. But I couldn't.

I was too exhausted by this. So exhausted, I wanted to sleep. . . Which I did eventually.

~3rd pov~

The sun had risen, and so did Y/n. She woke up to a messy cot, her top on the floor as she remained wearing the bottom piece. She woke up to an empty bed, Scar was gone and she didn't know where he went. She got up and tied on her top once again before heading walking out of the room to find him.

"Scar?" Y/n muttered, crossing her arms as she slowly walked around the hut, checking the meat room, the main area and even outside next. No sign of Scar. She was worried until she remembered that he was probably out on a hunt. Sighing, she walked to the room again and sat on the bed. Relaxing into the pelt as she thought about him.

She just woke up, fully clean and even tucked into the pelt, he cleaned her and fixed her up in bed. She lightly traced her lips with her fingers as she smiled at the thought of a extraterrestrial being treating her like a lover. Some time passed and he returned to the hut, she looked and saw him drop a strange creature on the ground before entering the room. Carrying a box with him.

She crawled on her hands and knees on the bed and sat as she looked at him, "I missed you." She said. Scar let out a deep hum as he approached her, she reached up and planted a kiss on his shoulder. A growl escaped him as he handed her the box. She took it and started to open it up, her brow arching when she saw the odd outfit.

"What is this-?. . . Wait a minute." She mumbled, pulling out a fishnet outfit with solid pieces of armor on important places such as the breasts, and the nether regions. Reminding her of Scar's own armor, she lifted the fishnet outfit and saw a silver mask that looked similar to Scar's just without the blooded mark. It wasn't big, but it was her size. Arm cuffs and a small weapon within it. She looked at him with a confused look.

"Today. . . yo-ou Kv'var." He said to her. She gulped as she looked down at the custom made armor.

Today, she hunts.

_______________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed the sequel!

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