#but the idea of link falling asleep against the walls of the palace waiting for riju to have time to talk to him just tickled me

[lewis-winters]

Day 16: Victory

Part of my OC-tober 2022 (that will get fucking finished in 2024 so help me god)! Another Baldur's Gate 3 one, folks!

This was just an excuse to write a Tadfools puppy pile and also a little dropped hint to whatever is going on between Halsin/my Tav. Again, some Bloodweave in there. Because I care them. And Shadowheart being clingy, because I like that, too. Team As Family, of course.

Also! A tiny depiction of a stray headcanon of mine: being a particularly stubborn and petty godless Paladin means breaking the habit of using gods’ names in vain so, Pasiphaë often incites the ‘Great fuck’ or ‘Holy shit’ when truly exasperated or in a situation that might have had her previously calling for Ilmater. She does this out of spite. I love her.

tw: allusions to Astarion’s whole backstory; they’re all traumatized and pretending so hard that they aren’t

As soon as the sun sets, they go and set Cazador’s Palace ablaze.

Between Gale’s fireball, Shadowheart’s conjured elemental, a gallon of gasoline Astarion had filched from an abandoned food stall, and their overall enthusiasm, they make quick work of the old place in little under two hours. With the amount of destruction that has been wrought upon the city already, nobody bats an eye at the raging flames, nor at the four lunatics that started it. The only ones who do are their Harper allies, who find them sitting together on the Lower City Wall a relatively safe distance away, surveying their handiwork from under some curtains they’d stolen from the ballroom and are now using as blankets to keep warm.

“We were wondering where you were,” Jaheira sighs, making herself comfortable on the ground with them as the rest of her team scouts ahead, checking to make sure the damage doesn’t spread anywhere else. “When we saw the brain fall, our first thought was to search for you in the Chionthar’s waters. Were you here the whole time?”

Nobody answers for a long moment. Nobody moves. They simply watch the flames, its blaze and its warmth enough to evoke the sun.

Finally, Pasiphaë blinks, slowly, like she’s just been awoken from a dream. “We hid by the docks until the sun set,” she tells Jaheira, flatly. “Slept some.”

What a sorry sight they must have been: huddled together behind some barrels and crates like a litter of abandoned kittens, licking their wounds and attempting to crawl into each other’s skin—the very antithesis to the image of victory.

They couldn’t help it, though; the overwhelming silence in their minds where six other presences had been was disconcerting, to say the least. After nearly a year of sharing their tadpole telepathic link, suddenly being unable to feel each other, mentally, incited a desire in all of them to feel each other tangibly, instead. Even Astarion, who in different circumstances would have turned his nose up at the mere idea of cuddling, did not protest when Shadowheart so much as crawled into his lap, and simply turned his face into the crook of Gale’s neck while Pasiphaë circled her arms around all of them best she could. It was difficult, too, to simply dismiss the absent pieces of their seven-way connection. Pasiphaë had wondered, aloud, if Wyll and Karlach also felt the loss. Or if Lae’zel missed it, now, with as much intensity as she had despised it, then. Nobody had wanted to follow that trail of thought.

It ached too much.

Instead, they’d made plans. Serious ones at first, with the Crown of Karsus still in pieces in the Chionthar and majority of the city reduced to rubble and ruin. But the more they talked of it, the more they went in circles. Those plans were for a future a bit farther from reach. Complicated. They wanted—needed something simple.

Shadowheart had been the one to suggest burning Cazador’s Palace to the ground; arson sounded much more invigorating than drinking themselves into a stupor at the nearest tavern. Once they’d unanimously agreed, they’d quickly fallen asleep, tucked tightly against each other. Waiting out the sun.

“I’m sorry,” Pasiphaë tells Jaheira. “We worried you, didn’t we?”

“No more than you usually do,” Jaheira says, waving a dismissive hand. To Astarion, she asks; “do you intend to see this blaze all the way through to its ashes?”

“Not if you promise something better, darling,” Astarion shrugs. He’s managed to slot himself sideways upon Gale’s lap, arms wrapped around his wizard’s neck, legs slung over thighs. Nuzzling into him, he recalls; “what was it? A night of hedonistic debauchery?”

Gale has his eyes closed, weary. “Hm. I think you have to count me out this time, ‘Star.”

“The short length of your sentences are starting to concern me, Gale,” Shadowheart says, from her spot against Pasiphaë, her arm intertwined with hers. Her head on her shoulder. “So long as this hedonistic debauchery involves a bed—”

Astarion snorts, an undignified sound. “How straight forward of you, Shadowheart.”

“Is the Elfsong still standing?” Pasiphaë asks Jaheira, ignoring the new wave of bickering that’s begun.

“Tall and proud, with barely a scratch,” Jaheira tells her. “I must warn you, though. A difficult conversation awaits you there.”

The bickering ceases and three pairs of curious ears perk up. Pasiphaë struggles not to roll her eyes. “For tomorrow,” she says, to both Jaheira and audience, before stretching her legs out with a groan. “For now: home. And rest.”

They get up with some struggle, sore and tired, pins and needles rushing through their stiff limbs as they pick their way through the smoking city toward camp. They cling to each other still, even when it makes walking through narrow alley ways tough. But it doesn’t slow them down at all. The moon has barely made it up into the sky before the Elfsong finally looms before them, a welcome sight.

Halsin is waiting for them at the entrance, whole, largely unharmed, and pacing. He hasn’t clocked them yet.

“You don’t have to engage him,” Gale reassures her with a whisper. “Halsin has always been a reasonable man; if we were to tell him that you wish to be left alone tonight, he would no doubt honor that request.”

“You don’t have to get between us,” Pasiphaë tells him. “But I appreciate it.”

Luckily, it doesn’t come to that—before she can even so much as make eye contact with the druid, the door of the Elfsong opens, and her children spill out.

“Mama,” Serafina gasps in Elvish, as she and her brother practically throw themselves at Pasiphaë. They’re not quite as small as they used to be, but Pasiphaë still catches them well enough and only stumbles a bit. “Phaë, oh thank the goddess, we thought you—I thought—”

“Oh, my baby,” Pasiphaë coos, holding her close as she begins to cry. “It’s alright. I’m alright. We’re alright.”

Everybody graciously gives them privacy—though from the corner of her eye she sees Halsin hesitate, just a moment, before Jaheira pulls him inside the building—leaving them to relocate to one of the tables still intact out front, waiting out the worst of the water works as Serafina blubbers and hiccups her way through words. By the time she’s calmed down, the world about them has quieted into a near hush, sans perhaps some lucky crickets. It’s still quite early into the evening, but even for a city as robust and bustling as Baldur’s Gate, being invaded by an army of cultists and mind-flayers would significantly damper the night life. On the bright side, there’s less vampire spawn and Bhaal followers in it, now. “This city is not so bad,” Pasiphaë snorts. “Now that we cleaned it up, some, I mean.”

“I’m sick of it,” Serafina sniffles, shaking her head. “I think. I think it’s about time I moved.”

Xenodius chuckles. “I was just jesting about that, you know?”

“No. I know you were. But I’m not so stubborn now as to dismiss the wisdom behind the jest. Besides,” Serafina smiles. “Phaë’s wizard has sold me on the idea of Waterdeep.”

“Well. It’s not Neverwinter.” But at least it isn’t the fucking Gate, goes unsaid.

“I want you to come with me, Phaë.”

Pasiphaë blinks. Then blinks some more. “You—”

“Please don’t say you want me to have a life of my own. I have that. I’d still like for you to be in it.”

“I… wasn’t going to say that,” Pasiphaë lies, grasping for other arguments she might have. “It’s just… Waterdeep is so awfully far, linnon dithen, and the house—who will take care of the house?”

“I will!” Xenodius protests. “I’ve inherited your propensity for bringing home strays, you know. Elias and I will need more space, soon.” He reaches out and takes Pasiphaë’s hand. “That house is too big for you, Phaë.”

He does have a point. But Pasiphaë isn’t going to give them both the satisfaction of being right without working for it, just a bit. “Have you two been talking about me behind my back?”

“Of course.”

Pasiphaë rolls her eyes. “Such brats.”

“We were just worried about you,” Serafina says, so, so patient. Since when has she become so patient? All at once, Pasiphaë’s throat tightens with emotion, and she has to blink rapidly to keep it all at bay. “That house… it has a lot of happy memories. But there are many bad ones, too. I lost Phaedra and Mel in that house. I thought I lost you in that house—” Pasiphaë winces. “—There’s been more bad than good that’s happened there, recently. I don’t like the idea of you wallowing in that for the rest of your life. Perhaps it’s time for some where new?”

“Sera—”

“Or you can go with Halsin, if that’s what you want!”

Pasiphaë feels like her heart’s been tossed into the air. “What.”

“I mean. I thought—” Serafina fidgets, her turn now to grasp for something to say. “You know I don’t mind, right? You aren’t… I don’t think you’re replacing Mel at all! Odi doesn’t, either.”

Xenodius nods, enthusiastically. “I think he’s nice, Mama.”

Oh, great fuck, deliver her. “I am not ready to have this conversation with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because Halsin and I are most definitely not like that.” She doesn’t try and specify what that means, afraid to lose the plausible deniability in lacking a proper label.

Despite her efforts, though, the siblings seem to understand it perfectly. Exchanging glances that are a bit too knowing for her comfort, they look to her, frowning. “Oh?” Sera says, an eyebrow raised. “I… Are you sure?”

Pasiphaë flounders for an answer. She can’t find one, so she just doesn’t answer at all.

They stay for a few more moments, before Pasiphaë’s growling stomach and growing anxiety prompts them to go inside. Everybody else is waiting around the fire pit for them, idly chatting between themselves. Shadowheart has the Owlbear sprawled across her lap while Astarion has Scratch in his. Tara has found Gale as well, kneading biscuits into his lap while meowing and mrrp-ing what Pasiphaë suspects to be admonishments and endearments.

Through all this, Halsin is cradling a slumbering Yenna, the child the only thing keeping him from getting up and… well. Pasiphaë isn’t sure what he wants to do. From the look on his face, she thinks he might want to kiss her. Or maybe tell her that he never wants to see her again. It would take more than a cursory look for Pasiphaë to determine which it really is, but she’s not ready to take more than a glance. Especially with everybody else discretely staring and wondering too loud without saying a word.

Pasiphaë looks at Jaheira, and sure enough, the druid is looking at her already, an eyebrow raised in question. Pasiphaë shakes her head. Jaheira rolls her eyes.

Dinner is a subdued affair. Nobody really wants to talk all that much. Or eat much, either. But Odi’s paternal instincts kick in, and he forces them to stomach a few bites, even when the tavern’s stew is a bit too bland for their tastes. Serafina gives up some of her own blood for Astarion’s meal, and Pasiphaë hugs her daughter extra tight to thank her for her generosity.

“It’s nothing,” Sera tells her, and Astarion, too. She smiles at him, and for a moment looks like she wants to say more, but thinks better of it. “You’re… uh. You’re welcome.” Astarion appears grateful for her intuition.

Sleep comes quick. They’re less huddled together about it, with Gale and Astarion retiring together to their own cot while Pasiphaë acquires both her children and Shadowheart in hers. Pasiphaë wants to grumble something about being made into an elf-sized teddy bear by two fully grown elves far too old to be sleeping in their mother’s bed, but decides to keep it to herself. Shadowheart is still grieving the loss of her parents after all, it’s no use accidentally prodding that wound for the sake of faux-surliness. If she could help curb that by holding her the way she did her own children after a particularly nasty nightmare, then Pasiphaë resolutely doesn’t mind being slowly crushed to death. They push together three cots to fit all of them together with Pasiphaë in the middle—and if it so happens to be within sight of Gale and Astarion’s cot and Halsin’s place by the fire, well. Nobody says anything.

They let exhaustion take them as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

--

Linnon dithen means ‘little singer’ in Tolkein's Sindarin. Forgotten Realms doesn’t actually have any official Elvish conlang (aside from the few official words in that one dictionary), so I substituted it with Sindarin instead.

Serafina also switches between calling her mother(s) Mama and their nicknames, while Odi prefers to just call them Mama. Pasiphaë and Melisandre had really tumultuous relationships with their own parents/guardians and I imagine weren’t so precious about parental monikers as a result. Odi prefers calling them Mama, though. I think that's just the kind of person he is. To their other children (Sera and Phaedra), they were Mama in times of heightened emotion while any other time they were Phaë and Mel.

#estrella_marie #stella's oc-tober 2022 #bg3 #pasiphaë elago #i am getting Attached to pasiphae A Normal Amount #my next pieces will be about how fucking Insane She Is Actually and they're... so much fun #not hbo war

[ofcowardiceandkings]

AND i was correct, compared to the hole i dug myself into with drawing Zelda, drawing this gentle hooligan was TOO easy 🙆‍♂️🙆‍♂️

some of this was purely self indulgent because it took a lot less practice to be consistent LOL, at first how puckish his face came out kind of bothered me but honestly ? its true to his personality

the only bit that gave me a headache really was how scarred is TOO scarred ... iirc a fair few NPCs state that he's covered in them so at least i dont have to feel bad about hurting my boy fhjdkfjdk

thanks to @newtsnaturethings @aquaticpal @flydunes & @lynkhart for the help with poses when my brain imploded for a bit there lol ... and shout to the ladle run

look at this funky lad [marge with potato] i just think he's neat!

#breath of the wild #legend of zelda #botw link #botw fanart #loz link #pilots doodles #i tried not to mess with the colours for the clothes much but WEH im like that ... not that i think link has a good sense of fashion #in fact i think he DOESNT he just wears what he wears and thats it ... which is a mood .. but i have colour opinions lol #again this could have 574839 words of notes attached to it quite happily .. not as bad as zelda's but still pretty bad LOL #the half of me that isnt relating to zelda is relating to link im awful BYEEEEEE] #for the longest time i couldnt decide whether to have the gerudo vai outfit one in the royal guard gear ... #but the idea of link falling asleep against the walls of the palace waiting for riju to have time to talk to him just tickled me #the ladle one is twitch squads fault LOL Fish dealt the last blow to ganon in his armourless run with a ladle #zelda blogging #botw/totk blogging

[figonas]

As Warm As The Sun-Part 1

“When he wakes there is crisp sunlight streaming through his chambers, yellow as a daffodil and nearly as warm as Jude felt in his arms. In limbo between awake and asleep Cardan thinks he might have dreamt that part of the evening as well”

Summary: Takes place during The Wicked King pretty much right before the Queen of Mirth scene and Chapter 15. This is just a soft, fluffy response to the prompt “hug me I command it”.

Words: 1623

Rating: GA

Links: Part 2-Jude POV | AO3

A/N: Tumblr user @jurdanhell brought this prompt up to me and our initial discussion that it didn’t really fit Cardan morphed into “wait yes this is exactly Cardan behavior”. This is my first work on AO3 so kudos would be greatly appreciated, if it gets enough love I might re-write the scene from Jude’s perspective!

********

Revels all tended to blend together, an endless stream of music and alcohol that somehow left Cardan feeling as desperately alone as always even when in a room bursting with folk of all shapes and sizes. This particular revel was different, if only because Jude was still hovering around him long after she would have normally retreated to her chambers or the Court of Shadows. He could feel her eyes on him, as heavy as the weight of his crown as she stared daggers at him from her position to the side of his throne.

Ordering Jude to do anything would be ordering a knife thrust into his own back, High King or no. So Cardan merely asked Jude to attend the revel in its entirety, but he did so in front of the Living Council, several members of the Low Courts, and Locke who rose to challenge and prod Jude without needing to be asked. There was no way for her to refuse that wouldn’t be seen as backing down from his challenge, so through gritted teeth, Jude graciously accepted his invitation. He didn’t know why he had asked her, perhaps he simply wanted to annoy her in a way that would require little effort from him, or perhaps he wanted to know how she would retaliate. A small part of him whispered that he just wanted her company but he made sure to drown that part of him with plenty of wine earlier in the night. Too much wine though Cardan is loath to admit it, and now as the night winds down he’s not entirely sure he can make it back to his rooms on his own. It wouldn’t be the first time one of his guards has dragged their High King to bed and dropped him on his royal ass but Cardan dislikes the idea all the same. Moving to stand he lurches too far forward and nearly falls off the raised dais before Jude’s hand closes on the back of his cloak pulling him backward where he crashes into her solid presence. “As much as it would amuse me to watch you fall after you made me stand here all night for no reason, I’m too tired to pick you up off the floor,” Jude hisses in his ear, she throws one of his arms across her shoulders as her other arm snakes around his waist. “Dearest Jude, are you trying to take me to bed?” Cardan tries his best to wiggle his eyebrows at her but he’s too focused on his feet as they descend the dais steps and begin the long trek to his rooms. “Don’t push your luck or I’ll leave you to sleep on the floor in the middle of the burgh”. He laughs despite her threat and out of the corner of his eye he sees a small smile on Jude’s lips.

Cardan’s inebriated mind is not as trained at quashing his feelings for Jude as his sober mind is. As they make their way through the palace halls he has the sudden, sickening thought that he likes this, being embraced by Jude Duarte even if it’s only to help him to his rooms. She seems to have forgotten she’s repulsed by him, letting him lean on her as much as he needs. Cardan decides that he would get mindlessly drunk every night if it meant Jude would hold him this way but, perhaps mercifully, they make it to his rooms before he can voice this out loud. The moment she releases him he misses her warmth, her feeling of life and strength, of mortality. Before he knows what he’s saying he opens his mouth to speak. “Embrace me again,” he says, drunk and foolish, he can see the shock on her face despite her desperate attempt to hide it, but even Jude master of power and control, cannot stop the flush rising across her cheeks. Is it desire? Anger? Embarrassment? Cardan doesn’t care, he likes this Jude best; off her guard, almost susceptible to his charms but not quite, she is Jude Duarte after all. She recovers quickly, her expression cooling into something like boredom. “Go to bed Cardan” she points at the monstrously empty bed and he imagines it will be just as cold and lonely as he feels now. “But I am your king, Jude I command it,” he says with what he hopes is a playful smile, but is more than likely a fool’s grin. “So I say again, embrace me and then I will concede and go to bed”. Jude opens her mouth to speak but quickly shuts it with an audible snap of teeth.

She’s at war with herself he realizes suddenly, he can nearly see the thoughts racing in her head. He expects her to push back and fight with him, or to leave him where he stands not caring if he makes it to bed or collapses on the floor right here. Impossibly she does neither, instead, she reaches for him and wraps her arms around his midsection, her cheek resting on his shoulder. Cardan is frozen for what feels like an eternity but is only a handful of seconds as her warmth seeps into his very bones. He wraps his arms around her, returning the embrace before she changes her mind. “I’m only doing this because I’m too tired to fight with you about going to bed,” Jude mumbles softly, Cardan barely hears her above his pounding heart, but he can feel her words from where she’s pressed against his chest. He wants to tighten his grip on her to ensure himself this is real. He wants to bury his face in the crook of her neck and inhale the scent that haunts his dreams; her scent, so uniquely human, so wholly Jude. Through sheer force of will, he stops himself from indulging in either of these fantasies that would most likely only shatter this tender moment or result in him getting stabbed, he is equally disappointed at the thought of either possibility.

Jude seems to forget, if only for a moment, that it’s Cardan’s arms around her, his shoulder her cheek rests on, his neck that she tickles with her soft exhales. She relaxes just a little in a way he didn’t know she could, her palms flattening against his back, the ever-present tension leached slightly from her shoulders. He indulges in the impulse of stroking her lower back with his thumbs, he’s emboldened to tighten his grip on her just a fraction when Jude doesn’t react to the small movement. They stand in silence for several moments, Cardan’s heart racing at a worrying speed. Suddenly, Jude inhales deeply which turns into a wide yawn and she steps back rubbing the heel of her hand across one eye. “Alright, Your Majesty I indulged your wishes,” she’s interrupted by another, smaller yawn which she covers with the back of her hand. Cardan’s hands are still resting lightly on Jude’s waist, she doesn’t move from his touch. “Now to bed with you so I can get in my own. One of us has to be alert enough to run the kingdom,” she points in the direction of his bed and Cardan drops his hands. He is again shocked by how cold his room feels without her pressed against him. He quashes the urge to touch her again, he knows she will not indulge him a second time. When he turns he sways slightly, Jude rolls her eyes and places her hand on the small of his back guiding him to bed. “Careful with your orders Jude or I will tell everyone that you were kind to me,” he laughs to himself though it is not at all funny. “Though I don’t think anyone would believe me”. “You won’t remember this tomorrow anyway,” they reach the bedside where she gives him a gentle shove and he drops unceremoniously onto his too-large bed. The motion sets his head swimming. He steals one last, longing look at Jude before closing his eyes; her cheeks flushed, eyes tired, impenetrable walls lowered the tiniest bit. Cardan tucks the image away to think of when she’s gone and he’s left alone in the sea of cold blankets. “Oh Jude, loveliest of afflictions, I will remember this night for years to come,” he hears her scoff as she steps away from the bed. “We’ll see about that tomorrow,” she sounds amused as she speaks and if Cardan’s head wasn’t spinning so badly he would peel his eyes open just to see one of Jude’s rare smiles. He hears her footsteps retreating toward the door where she stops, he’s nearly overtaken with sleep when he hears her voice call softly back to him. “Goodnight Cardan”. She’s gone before he can respond and Cardan succumbs to sleep only moments later.

She’s there in his dreams as she is most nights. Cardan tries to speak to dream Jude, but the only word he can say is her name; Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude. Over and over again, he calls her name like a curse, a prayer, the last desperate words of a dying man, a humble supplicant whispering the name of an honored deity. When he wakes there is crisp sunlight streaming through his chambers, yellow as a daffodil and nearly as warm as Jude felt in his arms. In limbo between awake and asleep Cardan thinks he might have dreamt that part of the evening as well, but as he shifts under the sheets her scent wafts from the fabric of his shirt into his nostrils. He clutches the fabric tightly, inhaling deeply he smiles to himself before drifting off again to a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

#my first work that isn’t for my OCs #wow it’s weird to have something finished for once #the folk of the air #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #Cardan’s POV #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #orginal work #fanfiction

[raendown]

Fandom: Marvel Pairing: SamBucky Word count: 2070 Rated: T+ Summary: Steve had only just been thinking about how much he missed his best friend when his phone started ringing. Great minds think alike! Except apparently Bucky had meant to call someone else entirely and Steve was not at all prepared for the discovery of this baffling - but adorable - secret.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

From Where You Are

He may have staunchly denied it every time Tony or Natasha or anyone else teased him for it but Steve knew damn well that he had a - very slight! - penchant for dramatics. Dramatics like slamming an entire plane down in to the icy ocean rather than just turning the damn thing around and flying in circles until Peggy or Howard came up with the latest madcap rescue plan. Yeah. He was a self aware guy. Which meant he knew exactly how much teasing he would get if he so much as dared to open his mouth and complain about life on the run. 

Because as well as Steve knew himself, his friends knew him better. He might be lucky to get a whole three words in to his sentence before any of the people he currently had available to listen would guess exactly what he was really complaining about. He missed Bucky. So sue him! He’d already spent seventy years thinking his best friend was dead and then another two knowing he was out there but not exactly all there. Now finally he knew exactly where Bucky was. He knew that Bucky knew exactly who he was. They could be best friends again. 

Through video calls only. 

Steve clenched his jaw against the urge to close both eyes and whine at the unfairness of it all. Leaving Bucky in Wakanda had been the right choice for everyone but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Could the world maybe stop being so unfair for just five damn minutes? Give a guy a chance to reunite properly with the one thing that had centered the first couple decades of his life? Maybe get a hug or two in while Bucky was only one-armed and half defenseless against a few rounds of proper manly affection? It didn’t sound like too much to ask. Yet here he was sitting up just past midnight trying to calculate time zones to figure out if maybe he could get a quick call in now that Sam and Natasha were falling asleep. If he snuck out on to the balcony he might be able to avoid waking them and therefore avoid the inevitable teasing over his ‘very obvious pining’.

So lost in his own head was he that Steve nearly threw his phone against the wall when it began signing in his hand. It took a slow blink or two for his thoughts to clear enough that he understood no, he had not called Bucky out of rote habit, Bucky was calling him. Score one for that mental best friend bond he’d heard the other two joking about the other day. Steve was smiling as he accepted the call and held it up at an angle he hoped would get his face properly. 

“Hey, Buc- oh my god, are you okay?” 

Small on the screen and folding in to himself like he was trying to be just as small in person, Bucky’s eyes were wild where they stared somewhat just over top of whatever device he’d used to call from. He took several ragged breaths in and let them all out a little too heavily before he could speak. 

“No.”

“I’m here, pal, what’s up?”

“Can you- where’s Sam?”

Steve felt his eyebrows lift up together. “Uh, Sam? Is in the next room. Why?”

A good question, he felt, since in the eight or so months since they had all last been together in Wakanda, Bucky had never once so much as breathed Sam’s name during these scattered video calls. Steve had seen them have maybe two conversations in the palace and both of those had been stilted as hell. Two men dancing around the fact that they’d both tried to kill each other on several occasions. Now here was Bucky jerking his eyes over to look directly at the camera and Steve had never seen him look so haunted before. Which, really, was saying something.

“I want to talk to Sam,” he said, voice quiet, aching with something Steve hadn’t heard before. They had talked about Bucky having nightmares. He’d just never seen one, not even the aftermath. Bucky had been a keep-it-close-to-the-chest guy long before what happened with HYDRA.

“Uh, okay. Sure. He might be asleep but I’ll just- yeah.”

Feeling more than a little confused, he did just that. Stood and marched to the door with a single minded purpose that could only come with being given a mission. Bucky wanted to talk to Sam and he might not understand why but he was going to make that happen even if he had to wake the man up. 

Thankfully, he did not have to wake the man up, although if he’d waited even a single full minute longer that might have been the case. Sam hadn’t even taken the time to undress or properly get in to what passed as his bed for tonight. He was still sitting half slumped against the wall on a little nest of blankets, carefully positioned in exactly the opposite corner from Natasha because one simply did not sleep next to a Russian super spy knowing that the slightest disturbance would send her in to full mission mode in less than five seconds. Besides, Sam had laughed when he pointed that out, I’m a serial sleep cuddler and I don’t think that’s a great idea here. Who knows how many knives she’s got under her pillow? 

“Sam?” Fond amusement rippled through the layers of worry as Steve watched his friend’s head loll towards him, indolent and exhausted. “Hey, uh, Bucky’s on a call. He wants...to talk to you?” That got a reaction. His eyes cracked open to take in the phone Steve was holding out and his chin lifted faintly in greeting.

“Hey man,” he ground out, voice coarse with near-sleep. “‘Nother nightmare?”

“Can you tell me a story?” Bucky asked. 

Steve very nearly dropped the phone. He almost dropped it again when Sam, without any external reaction whatsoever, immediately launched in with, “So you know that guy Dwayne I was telling you about? From homeroom? God, lemme tell you about how stupid this guy is. We’re at prom, right? And there’s this honey he’s had his eyes on for like three months only she went to prom with Harry Murdock- yeah, you know, the quarterback. Fuckin’ quarterbacks, man.”

It was kind of like watching something his own weird dreams might come up with. A sequence of events that made very little sense once you’d woken up and tried to piece it all back together. Sam’s eyes gradually slid closed again but his mouth just kept going like this was all totally normal, like he often spent his nights sitting up and telling Bucky random stories about the other kids he’d gone to highschool with. And on the opposite end of the call Bucky’s face grew less haunted with every word until the panic had drained out of him entirely and his own eyes were sliding down. He must have been using a tablet or laptop because the camera stayed perfectly centered on him even when his head at last fell gently down against his chest. 

“-and I mean, yeah, I get what he was going for with the ribbons but fuck, it really just made the whole thing worse. Best night of my entire highschool career gone right down the drain because Harry Murdock was too ashamed to tell his parents he wanted to take me to prom and Lisa Furlow was too good of a friend to tell anyone she was just a beard. Obviously the teachers were mad about the horse being there but- ah. He fall asleep?” It took a second for Steve to realize his friend was asking him a question. 

“Yeah. He did.”

“S’good. Good. ‘M gonna too. Night, Steve.” And then he was out too. Sam’s head lolled again, face going slack, and Steve was left standing there with a phone in his hand and several new knots in his chest, all of them shaped like confusion. 

Well. That. Had happened. Lifting his hand, Steve watched the live image of his best friend sleeping peacefully, a direct contrast to the shaken man who had reached out for help. Reached out to someone who wasn’t Steve. He’d be lying if he tried to say some part of that didn’t sting but he was a big enough person to recognize that helping Bucky was so much more important than stroking his own ego even if he did still feel like the ground was shaky between them after everything that had happened. Watching the man now, he certainly couldn’t deny that whatever the hell just happened seemed to have helped. Bucky hadn’t looked so at peace since he’d volunteered to go back in to cryo while the Wakandans figured out a way to help him. 

Movement from the opposite corner of the room drew Steve’s eye and when he glanced over he found Natasha sitting primly with both eyebrows raised in question. Not having much of an explanation, he could only give her a helpless one-shoulder shrug. They held each others’ gazes in matching confusion for several beats until Steve turned to look back at where Sam lay, asleep and content, slumped against the wall. He was definitely going to wake up to an aching back. 

And a whole lot of questions. 

Unfortunately for Steve’s overwhelming curiosity, he was still self-aware enough to know he didn’t have the heart to wake Sam, not knowing that it was ultimately his own fault the other man was so tired. If he hadn’t shown up on Sam’s doorstep that day they wouldn’t both be here, on the run from their own country, unable to call home to the people they cared about, worn to the bone from running and fighting and hiding themselves away in whatever dingy hole they found to crash in for a night or two. No, Steve would not be the one to disturb any rest his friend managed to find. 

“You gonna hang up some time this century?” Natasha’s voice murmured through the shadows. 

“Oh, yeah, I probably should.”

She watched him do so with what was probably an all too obvious reluctance. Then she grinned. “We’re giving him the third degree tomorrow, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“So many questions. I need to know absolutely everything that led to Sam Wilson telling the Winter Soldier bedtime stories. Everything.”

“That was weird, right?” Steve ran a hand through his hair, absently noting a tremble in the fingers. “We should probably get some sleep too. I mean, you try. Don’t think I’ll be able to get any.”

Natasha unfolded herself from the floor with the corners of her mouth curling up in a little smirk he couldn’t bring himself to look away from. “No, I think I’ll be fine. Let’s go get some coffee. We’ll coordinate our plan of attack for when this guy gets back to the land of the living.” She jerked one thumb at Sam’s form and Steve finally had to peel his eyes away just to hold in the laughter that wanted to spill out. 

“Alright. Yeah. Coffee. And a plan of attack. Sounds good to me.” 

“What was it they called you? The star spangled man with a plan?”

Steve groaned and covered his eyes with the hand not still holding his phone. “Please tell me there’s no surviving footage of me prancing around on stage in tights.”

“Why would I need footage when I get front row seats every time you suit up?” Natasha sauntered away from him, probably - definitely - aware exactly what shade of red she’d just left on his face. Front row seats indeed. He certainly didn’t mind his own front row seat whenever he had the chance and the times Natasha had to join them out here on the run from their own government gave him plenty of chances. 

One last look at his phone made him smile before Steve slipped it in to his pocket and gently clapped both hands together, rubbing his palms back and forth. Coffee did sound good. Coffee with Natasha while they figured out exactly how much hell to give Sam over how he was apparently reading bedtime stories for a man he hadn’t said two words about in all the time since they’d left Wakanda. This was going to be fun. 

#rae writes #sambucky #winterfalcon #sam #bucky #steve #natasha #fanfiction #mcu #i already have a companion piece almost done... #i did warn y'all to expect more sambucky #the world is not soft and so my writing will be

[attackfish]

More 5 headcanons of the iroh is zuko and azulas father please! 🥰

Continued from: [Link], [Link], [Link], and [Link].

1. If Iroh almost has a heart attack when Azula comes through the window, he nearly faints when the bedsheet rope is yanked back up out of sight, and then a few seconds later, Zuko climbs down with it coiled up and tucked under his arm. "Zuko," Iroh asks his son, "How long have you been climbing the walls?" Zuko turns bright red and says nothing.

2. "We have to get out of here," Azula tells her father. "Uncle Ozai is going to kill us!" And Iroh, who has come to the same conclusion tells her he will find a way for them to escape. Meanwhile, Zuko has gone over to his father's bed, and started tying his sheets onto the rope. It's now long enough to reach the ground from the window. But Iroh has an idea. Does Zuko know what windows go where on the second floor? Yes he does. And the second floor royal appartments all connect to the secret passages. Zuko ties the sheet rope to the window and climbs down to the second floor. He finds his and Azula's old rooms empty and unguarded, and ties the rope to Azula's window. Below him, he can see one of the guards patrolling, but the guard never looks up.

3. He climbs back up to his father's room, and beckons his father and sister down. They slip through her window as Zuko waits. When they're safe inside, Zuko unties the sheet rope and climbs down. When he's inside and the window locked behind him, there's no way to tell how any of them got out. Iroh is shaking, from having watched his ten year old son scale the palace wall like it was nothing, with practiced ease, but there's no time for him to fret. He opens the secret passage and ushers his children through, before closing it behind them.

4. They walk through the night. Azula falls asleep and her father picks her up to carry her on his shoulder. Zuko hugs the sheet rope against his chest like a stuffed animal. They're so brave, his children, brave and clever, and now they've left everything behind, their toys, clothes, even their hairbrushes. But it doesn't matter if he can keep them safe from Ozai.

5. They emerge from the tunnel just before sunrise, into a cave that hangs over the river that skirts the edge of the capital. They follow it into town, Zuko barely able to keep on his feet. Once they're there, Iroh takes them to a bar down by the docks, full of soldiers, most of them his own soldiers, just back from the Earth Kingdom, and the failed siege of Ba Sing Se.

#avatar the last airbender #uncle iroh #zuko #azula #ozai #posts i created #do you want to ask a question it doesn't have to be a question #five headcanons #i ship iroh/tea #zuko is a dweeby little turtleduck #azula needs her own warning #noodle lord ozai

[koteosa]

🔥 Asrian and sharing a bed

I angsted all over this but uh, here you go friendo

ao3 link

In the dead of night, there were really only two reasons Julian would ever expect to hear a knock at his bedroom window. Either it was the rapid and tinking taps of Malak demanding to be let inside, or it was a very weak burglar attempting to break in and rob him blind. Or kill him in his sleep, perhaps, it wasn’t like he had very many valuables to begin with.

The sound clearly wasn’t the tapping of a bird’s beak, and it wasn’t very persistent or threatening, either. Rather, it was hesitant, a single knock followed several seconds later by three more, almost as quiet as the first. He holds a candle up to the window, but can’t find anything on the other side of it, and frowns. A prank, maybe?

His curiosity gets the better of him. Pulling his eyepatch back on, he sets the candle down on a table nearby, sliding the window up to take a peek outside. No one immediately jumps out to drive a dagger into his throat, so that was good. He almost doesn’t see anything worth noting at all; likely never would, if not for the way fluffy white hair and a bright orange vest stand out so plainly against the darkness of night. 

A murderer would have made more sense than this. Hell, the Count would have made more sense, showing up at his bedroom window at the witching hour, long after most people had gone to bed. There was no reason for Asra to be here.

Yet there he was, kneeling outside like he had already changed his mind about visiting, and was hoping Julian just wouldn’t see him.

Asra turns his head, and their eyes meet. Julian doesn’t like what he sees there, the ring of red in his tired lavender eyes, clothes haphazardly arranged about his body like he’d thrown them on in a hurry, hair tousled. The sight has Julian’s mind racing to figure out what happened; had he been attacked? Did someone die? Was someone about to die? Why wasn’t he at the palace, with his parents? Wouldn’t they be much higher on his list of people to run to?

The magician raises fluidly to his feet, lips parting to say something, but without having the right words. It doesn’t matter; Julian shoves the window up the rest of the way and frantically coaxes him inside. The urgency brings a look of surprise to Asra’s eyes, but he follows without question, climbing easily in through the window. Julian closes it behind him, not wanting to let the chill get in anymore than it already had.

Asra stands awkwardly in the center of the room, looking around at his surroundings. His hands are fidgeting, fingers curling and uncurling without his bag to hold onto. With his back turned, all Julian can see are the colorful swirls and patterns of his vest, hanging slightly off one shoulder.

“Is everything alright?” Julian asks, carrying the candleholder with him over to the hearth nearby, paying more attention to Asra than to what he’s doing with his hands. Somehow he manages to set the candle down on the mantle without setting the house on fire.

Rather than answer, Asra kneels down by the hearth, lighting a fire with his magic. It burns weakly, a bright blue that begins to shift colors as he teases it with a fresh log of wood. It begins to spread more after that.

Once that’s done, he raises to his feet, leaning back against the side of the fireplace. He crosses his arms over his waist, plainly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry I showed up so late,” he says, eyes directed at the floorboards. “And without warning,” he adds, wincing slightly as he turns to stare at a nearby shelf.

“I don’t mind,” Julian replies honestly, still struggling to figure out why, exactly, the magician was here in the first place. “I'd… offer you some tea, but coffee’s all I’ve got, I’m afraid.”

Asra shakes his head. “That’s not why I’m here,” he says quietly.

“Well, I should hope not. This isn’t a cafe, it’s a clinic,” Julian jokes, hoping to see even the hint of a smile on Asra’s face, so tired and blank. He isn’t successful. Rather, it’s as though Asra hadn’t heard a single word, turning to him with an odd look he wasn’t used to seeing on the magician’s face. Actually, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen this, the melancholy in his eyes, brows creased and lips parted. It felt wrong, like he shouldn’t be allowed to see this. They weren’t anything to each other, were never truly anything to each other.

“I can’t sleep anymore,” Asra says, still speaking in low tones, like he was sick. A silver eye narrows down at him.

“I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

Asra scoffs humourlessly. “I know. I know,” he says, and reaches up to cover half his face, eyes falling closed with an exhausted sigh. Nodding slowly, Julian lifts the candle back up, glancing back towards his desk.

“I think I understand,” he says, gesturing towards the desk, where a wooden chair and matching stool were arranged around piles of books and parchment. They head over to it in silence, with Asra keeping his head down all the while.

After perching on the stool, Asra slumps against the nearest surface; the wall, in this case. It was as though he hadn’t the energy left to hold up his own body anymore. Surely it wasn’t that he felt safe and comfortable enough to do something like that around Julian. Certainly not.

“So,” Julian continues, filling the silence Asra left behind, “You want me to prescribe you something.”

A sarcastic smirk appears on Asra’s face as a bitter laugh parts his lips. “Spells work a lot better than any medicine you could give me, Ilya,” he says, in a rather smug way that has Julian wanting to argue that notion for the next four hours, but he holds back, instead focusing on the actual response.

Frowning, he says, “There’s no other treatment I can offer you, I’m afraid, and I have the chronic insomnia to prove it.”

“I know,” Asra sleepily mumbles, eyes languidly surveying a book laid out on Julian’s desk. “I know you do.”

Utterly lost, Julian asks, “Then, why come to a doctor’s office? Is there some other problem? Or do you need someone to talk to that isn’t your parents? I would have thought your apprentice would come before me.”

“I don’t want to talk about them,” Asra says, louder and clearer than anything else he’d said that night, with an odd crease of his brows that has Julian even more confused. Since when was he not utterly delighted by the mere concept of his apprentice? Were they fighting? Was that why he was here?

He couldn’t ask, not after Asra had very explicitly just stated that he didn’t want to talk about it. So, not talk about it they did.

“Right,” Julian says lamely. Not sure what else to say, lest he repeat himself yet again, he waits patiently for Asra to say something else, to explain himself. He looked on the verge of falling asleep on the spot, surely he couldn’t go on much longer.

It takes awhile for Asra to get the words out. It felt much longer for Julian, who wasn’t anywhere near as tired, despite the rather advanced hour. “I haven’t slept alone in years,” Asra says. “Not since…”

Sorrow fills his eyes, and he turns his head closer toward the wall, hiding half his face in the wallpaper.

“Before them, I shared a bed with my best friend. And before him it was my parents. But I’m far too old to climb into bed with them, and… I barely recognize them anymore. I don’t feel comfortable around them like I used to.”

Which left…

“Asra,” Julian says, with just enough disapproval in his voice for Asra to begin to curl in on himself in shame. He turns, looking for the window he came in from.

“This was a mistake,” Asra says, raising up off the stool. “I’m going back—”

A black, gloved hand reaches out, latching frantically onto Asra’s wrist. They both turn to it in shock, the impulsive action outside Julian’s control, yet it works to get him to ease back into his seat as he was before. Or an approximation of it, at least; he was far too tense now to do anything but sit there, stiff as a board.

Julian sighs. This was a bad idea.

“You should know,” he says, “I don’t sleep well at night. If you want to sleep now, which you look like you do, you’re going to have to use one of those spells on me. The tablets I keep in the clinic don’t work very well on me anymore.”

It takes a moment for his words to register, but when they do, Asra looks up at him in surprise. After the surprise fades, it’s almost like he doesn’t believe him, or doesn’t like the idea, despite it clearly being what he was after. His lips part like he has something to say, yet nothing ever comes out, and he just nods instead, staring down at the floor as usual.

This was going to be a really long night.

Beginning to tug some of his extra layers off, Julian raises to his feet, gesturing towards the bed in the corner of the room. It was large enough for two to fit comfortably inside, with a rich red quilt and matching pillows, plus sheer, black curtains pinned to the canopy overhead. Undressing in total silence, Asra leaves his extra clothing and boots by the window, while Julian changes properly, as he does—well, certainly not every night, considering most nights he just collapsed somewhere without planning and woke up in wrinkled clothing.

Dressed in black leggings and a pale blouse for sleeping in, he finds Asra hovering near the bed, waiting for him to make the first move. Those gold buttons on his pants did not look comfortable to lay on, nor did the beige shirt, but he clearly wasn’t comfortable taking them off, and Julian didn’t own a single thing that would fit on someone so much smaller than him. He decides not to comment on it.

“I presume you’ll want to sleep on the outside,” Julian says. Avoiding eye contact, Asra nods, shuffling a bit closer to the bed after Julian has climbed inside, pulling back the covers for him.

Asra lays facing him, while Julian tucks the covers up over the magician’s shoulders. Perhaps a little too dotingly, considering they weren’t even together, anymore—were never together, he reminds himself. A little embarrassed by his behavior, he goes to turn toward the wall, only to be stopped by a hand on his bicep, tugging lightly. Their eyes meet, and he catches something desperate in the magician’s gaze. The sight tugs at his heart strings a little too firmly.

But it’s quickly gone, as Asra leans in toward Julian’s neck, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the borderline deceased chill of Julian’s. His breath catches, unused to this kind of physical proximity from anyone, much less an old fling. Tawny hands remain clutching onto the front of his shirt, and he reciprocates, wrapping the magician up in his arms. It felt like the proper move to make, and judging by the way Asra moves closer, he’s not mistaken.

And he definitely wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep like this. His mind was too active, body too tense, heart too loud. At this rate, he’d spend all night and well into the morning pondering over what this meant, how and if this would change things between them. Did Asra want things to change between them? Did Julian want that? He’d meant to resolve himself to seeing them better as friends, and this was making all his efforts crash down around him. Having Asra so close was dangerous for his heart, pounding away in his chest as it was currently.

Oh god, did he notice? He must know, of course he knew, they were laying so close together, he had to notice.

Right as he’s starting to panic about that, he hears something that drags him forcefully out of his thoughts. A sharp breath, followed by the sound of sniffling. It’s then that he registers the shaking in Asra’s shoulders, and his rising panic finds a new source.

“Asra?” Pulling back slightly, he tries to get a better look at the magician’s face, but he curls in on himself, moving his hands to cover his face. Oh, no, no no… “What happened? Did something… Did I do something wrong? Why are you crying?”

This was new, and seemingly impossible, before tonight. Never once had he seen Asra crumble. He was quicker to anger than fear, or sadness, or generally anything vulnerable. Something had to have gone catastrophically wrong, Julian was sure of it.

But Asra doesn’t respond, and Julian doesn’t know how to react. He didn’t own the guidebook on Asra Alnazar, that was up to his apprentice, or his parents, or his friend, people he actually liked. They were barely even friends. After the investigation ended, he hadn’t seen fit to make many appearances outside the palace. They’d been out for drinks maybe twice, that was it. Julian didn’t even know what Asra’s parents’ names were!

“Do you want me to take you back to the palace? I’ll walk you home, up to your room, even, or… or maybe you don’t want me around, I’ll just show you to the door, then, you don’t have to use the window. Much more civilized, and we don’t have to talk about this ever again. I’ll wipe tonight from my memory completely—”

The feeling of Asra pressing closer, arms snaking around his back to cling tight enough for stubby nails to be felt digging into flesh shuts him up. Not knowing what else to do, Julian wraps him up in his arms, a hand against the back of his head. His hair was so soft—not the time.

“I don’t want to go back,” Asra says, his voice surprisingly steady for someone who was definitely crying, Julian could feel the moisture against his chest. “It’s not the same room, but it reminds me of…”

“…The plague,” Julian finishes. Asra nods, his fingers curling tighter. At the time, he never would have thought Asra was struggling with much of anything terribly tragic. He seemed fine, much better than someone who had lost his lover, or anyone, really, to an epidemic. It was in reflection, after he knew, that he realized it had all been fake. Sometimes he wondered if he actually knew who Asra really was, at all.

But it was no wonder he was here, and not at the palace. He wasn’t so sure he’d feel comfortable there either, not this soon after moving in. “I’m not sure if I can help you,” he says, curling his fingers into Asra’s hair. There’s a prolonged moment of silence, apart from the sound of Asra’s strained breaths struggling to find calm, before he speaks again.

“You’re right,” Asra says. “You can’t.” Julian wasn’t sure what he was expecting to hear, but… that stung. He wanted to help, he wanted more than anything right now to be able to help. If he could wave his hand and say some magic words and cure Asra’s heartbreak just like that, he would. But he can’t. And he’s a doctor, not a therapist. Hardly even a friend, for that matter.

Asra was right. He couldn’t do anything.

“Well,” Julian starts, struggling to keep the hurt out of his tone, “My door is always open for you, whenever you want me. Or the window, I suppose.”

Maybe that was too suggestive, but Asra had to know what he meant. And he meant… well, anything. Even that. Hell, Asra could show up to kill him and he probably wouldn’t be able to find it in him to be mad. If it helped him heal, then so be it. Vesuvia could find a newer, better doctor to take his place.

Asra continues to cry quietly, and Julian strokes his hair, longing to be of any use to him at all. He wishes he could see the magician’s face, gently wipe away his tears. That he could do better than this, maybe wrap him up in a warm blanket and bring him tea, to tell him everything was going to be alright. The palace would stop being so scary and someone would be there to warm his bed eventually, he was still young and probably the most beautiful person Julian had ever laid eyes on.

But Julian was terrified of screwing things up. Everything between them had been precarious from the start, and Julian had done enough fucking it all up before he’d even known how delicate what they had was. He couldn’t screw it up now, not like this. Asra needed him, even if only because no one else was available.

That was fine. He would do whatever he could, whatever Asra wanted. Whatever he asked for, and more.

Eventually Asra’s breathing begins to even out. The grip on Julian’s back grows slack, yet Julian’s arms only wind tighter. The slumbering magician doesn’t seem to notice; he was always such a heavy sleeper. To think he was having trouble falling asleep seemed unfathomable.

Stroking gently through Asra’s curls, Julian focuses on the sound of his gentle breaths. The rise and fall of his chest against Julian’s own, the warmth of his body, the woodsy smell of his hair… Tugging his lip between his teeth, Julian suppresses a sigh.

He was a fool to think his feelings for the magician would ever qualify as “just friends”.

#the arcana #asrian #julian devorak #asra alnazar #the arcana fic #the arcana fanfic #asra x julian #Anonymous #not art #fic #m/nb #Rated T #canon/canon #the arcana writing

[valkyrieofthehighfae]

Chapter 4

Warnings: Language, canon typical violence, eventual smut Word Count: 2.8k Link to the outfit I picture Dani in Join my taglist here Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 Tagging: @blue-space-porgs​, @miss-spixx​

Warmth was the first thing I noticed as I stirred from a deep sleep, something heavy draped over my waist keeping me weighed down. I rolled over, burying myself in the warmth, savoring it really since my room was so cold for some strange reason. I must have left the balcony doors open again by accident. I seemed to do that far too often during the fall, but I couldn’t help it really; the weather was just too nice to keep my doors shut. Besides, whatever this warmth was next to me, it balanced the chill out nicely, making it comfortable and certainly more difficult to actually wake up and get out of bed.

Wait. Bed? I fell asleep on my chaise last night. How did I end up in bed? My eyes flew open and I found myself curled up against a sleeping Wolffe, my face nuzzled into his chest. I nearly yelped out loud and carefully tried to remove myself from this potentially awkward situation, gasping when his arm tightened on my waist as I began to slowly wiggle away from him. Oh this was not good, this was not good at all. How was I going to get myself out of this predicament? I waited a moment for him to settle back down into sleep before moving carefully out from under his grasp, my bare feet lightly hitting the plush carpet and I quietly padded over to my wardrobe, my heart thundering in my ribcage as I tried to focus on just getting ready for the day, glancing back with a very slight grin at the sleeping troopers sprawled out on the mattresses.

“Morning.” A sleepy voice spoke up from the bed, Wolffe stretching out and getting to his feet, carefully stepping around his sleeping brothers to come stand near me to talk. “How’d you sleep, princess?”

“F-fine, thank you. And you?” I reached up to toy with my hair, something I did when I felt nervous.

“Best sleep I’ve had in awhile, actually. You alright? You look flustered.” He was grinning now, leaning on my wardrobe with a raised eyebrow and muscular arms crossed over his chest.

“Yes, I’m fine! Ah… I distinctly remember falling asleep on my chaise last night. Care to tell me how I ended up in bed with you? I-I mean, fuck, that didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant…” I stumbled over my words, wanting the ground to open up and swallow me whole over my poor choice of words. “Goddess, I’m just going to stop talking now.” My face burned hot, a dark gold blush creeping up my cheeks and down to my neck and chest.

“You looked uncomfortable, so I moved you. I hadn’t originally planned on staying in bed, but you wouldn’t let go when I set you down.” He teased me, a playful grin on his face. I groaned, covering my face with my hands, cursing under my breath.

“I am so sorry. This is so mortifying.” I most definitely wanted the earth to swallow me whole even more now. “I’m, uh, I’m gonna… um… I’m gonna go before I make an even bigger fool of myself.” I grabbed some clothes and fled to the refresher, locking the door behind me. Today seemed like the best day to just avoid the man so I could try and get my damn head on straight again. This was just plain stupid having such intense feelings for someone I’d only known for a day. I was going to have to make a little trip to the archives to check into something. It couldn’t have been the matebond, it wasn’t supposed to happen with someone who wasn’t a Fae, and yet… something just clicked, as if we’d known each other our whole lives. That couldn’t just be a coincidence… could it?

The archives will hopefully have the answer I need. This is more than just a silly crush or an infatuation. The bond mark hasn’t shown up, though, so maybe this isn’t a soulbond. I was absorbed in my thoughts, frowning heavily as I tried to recall everything I could about how exactly the soulbond worked. It had been so long since I’d heard the stories that none of the information was coming easily to me. Damn it all, why couldn’t I remember?

Twenty minutes later, after dodging Wolffe as best as possible on the way, I was walking into the archives, coughing a little at how dusty it was in here. Rows upon rows of tall bookshelves filled the large room, while lanterns on the walls gave the room a soft, cozy feel to it despite its enormous size. The books I was looking for in particular were towards the back in a locked book cage for rare and old books, and books that contained knowledge of the lineage of every family in Noveria. I could only hope that there would be some nugget of useful information in at least one of the three books that mentioned the matebond. Any information would be better than stumbling about in the dark like I currently was.

“Let’s see… oh, here we go! Just the books I was looking for.” I stood up on tip toes and took the three books I knew would have the information I needed off the shelf, taking them over to one of the tables so I could sit and read them. “Okay… um… sha, my old Sylvarus is so damn rusty. Let’s see here…” I grumbled softly, making a face down at the pages before me. We rarely used this dialect of Sylvarus anymore, so I wasn’t quite as familiar with the wording and phrasing going on here. This phrase either meant that it was almost never heard of for a Fae to soulbond outside of our people or it was some freaky farm… sex… guide… thing. I was really hoping for the former and not the latter, otherwise I’d have to tear my own eyes out of my head because that is not knowledge of any kind that I needed.

I’m just gonna… set that one aside and try a different book. I closed the deep, faded crimson cover and slid the book aside in favor of a large, black leather bound book with these bright gold embellishments decorating the front cover. This one was thankfully easy to read, most of it written in more recent Sylvarus, though a couple of words here and there had me stopping to think about it momentarily. And yet nothing was pointing me in any sort of helpful direction, it was as if there just wasn’t any sort of information on soulbonds outside of other Fae.

“There you are darling, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! What in the name of Odin are you doing here in the dusty old archives?” My mother took a seat across from me, reaching over to take the two books I’d pushed aside and look them over.

“Looking for some information on the soulbond is all. I… was curious about the process.” I murmured, keeping my gaze pinned down to the book in front of me, heart racing in my chest as I read over the short paragraph over marks left behind from the mate touching the other. I hadn’t had any marks show up, so clearly Wolffe and I weren’t mates! That was quite the relief to be quite honest, that meant these feelings I was having were just nonsensical things that would just go away after they departed! I slumped onto the table, letting out a relieved sigh, much to the amusement of my mother.

“I see, you wanted to find out what you could about your potential matebond with Commander Wolffe. That’s sweet, but don’t rely too much on those old tomes, they’re fairly outdated now.” She took the books, putting them in a stack near the edge of the table. “So we have news for you darling one. You and your uncle will be returning with the Jedi and his clones to Coruscant after the Harvest Festival is over. Your Uncle will be joining their Senate to give our people a voice along with a few representatives of the other courts that make up the Celestial Court. You will be accompanying him to learn what you can and report back what you learn. As far as they’re concerned, we’re sending you along to “broaden your horizons” so to speak, they have no idea we’re asking you to spy on them and find out all that you can about the Republic and the Separatists, as well as how they make their clones.” Mother’s golden eyes were hard, dangerously gleaming as she smiled almost too sweetly, her fangs glinting in the soft lights of the lanterns.

“I… see. Of course, I’ll do whatever I can to find out everything they know and haven’t told us about.” I bowed my head respectfully, averting my eyes from hers. She reached over and patted me on the head before departing, leaving me to sit there in my own thoughts that had quickly become troubled by her plan. I didn’t want to do anything that could hurt Wolffe and the others, but I had a duty to my people and keeping us and our secrets safe. If the Republic or Separatists knew that we could create more Fae from other races, they would either try to destroy us or use us, and I wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Son of bitch,” I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a shaky sigh. This wasn’t where I was expecting my day to be going, but at least I had the matebond cleared up, so that was something at the least. Spying though… it felt wrong and I could just feel a pit in my stomach forming the more I thought about it. “Enough of that, just put the books away and go eat, stop thinking about it.” I muttered softly, forcing myself to get up and put the books back where I’d found them so I could get out of here and grab a bite to eat. Now if I could just avoid Wolffe until I had to depart Ellodeem with them, that would certainly make things easier, or that’s what I was telling myself anyway. I had a feeling this would be a far more complicated situation than it was already turning out to be.

~*~*~

A cold wind snapped my golden skirts about my bare legs as I slipped from the palace into the dead of night, an eager grin on my face as I quickly made my way out to the town, ducking down into a side street lit up with deep purple lights that led the way to a warehouse that was tucked far off from all of the others in the Industrial province. I could already see the flashing lights that just barely penetrated the black paint covering the windows and I was eager to get in there. This was my favorite part of the year, the Festival of Ghosts which happened to fall at the same time as the Harvest Festival this year and there was always a huge party in this warehouse after all of the elder Fae went to bed, leaving us younger Fae to party hard. I strolled into the party, grinning eagerly as some of the door girls pulled me over to paint my exposed skin with glowing silver body paint in intricate designs that glowed brightly under the purple lights. This was the time of the year that I wasn’t a princess, I was just a normal twenty year old looking to have a good time.

“Dani! Here, have a drink,” Ashlyn Amaris, the Court of Dreams princess, came bouncing up to me, a grin lighting up her face as she handed me a goblet of some silvery gold liquid. “It’s kopi’rae! One of our specialties.” She looked pleased with herself when I took a sip, startled by how sweet it was, and proceeded to drain the entire goblet.

“This is amazing! I can’t even taste the alcohol! Let’s get another.” I grinned back, looping my arm through hers and walked over to the bar to order another. While we were getting drinks, one of my favorite bands came out onto the stage, the frontman a Blood Fae that had defected from his court to become a musician. I hadn’t expected them to be here tonight, so I was beyond thrilled to see them getting ready to perform.

“Cute outfit by the way, super sexy. Looking to maybe catch a certain singer’s eye?” Ashlyn joked, nudging me with her elbow. “Or is there someone else you’re hoping will be here tonight?” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully and I rolled my eyes, but laughed at her antics.

“I mean, there is someone I’m interested in, but it’s just a silly infatuation. It’s nothing serious.” I shrugged, watching the band and smiling when the vocalist laid his eyes on me, a grin tugging at his full lips. “Come on, let’s dance! I don’t want to think about men tonight, I just want to have fun.” I pounded my drink back and set the goblet on the bar, taking off to the dance floor as they launched into one of my favorite songs.

I lost myself in the music, swaying and dancing to the beat, Ashlyn and I laughing joyously as we danced. This was exactly what I needed tonight; drinks with wonderful friends and great music to help keep my mind off of everything going on. While it was only a temporary distraction, it was welcome nonetheless.

“Hey, who are they?” Ashlyn was looking over my shoulder, eyeing someone with interest, and I turned to look at who she was referring to, swearing when I saw Wolffe, Boost, and Sinker entering the building. “Wait, is one of them the person you were interested in?” She was grinning from ear to ear now when Wolffe headed towards us after Boost spotted Ashlyn and I.

“If the floor could open up and swallow me whole, I’d be grateful.” I mumbled, plastering a smile onto my face when they got closer.

“You didn’t tell me that he was your mate!” Ashlyn hissed, poking at my back a little.

“What? No, he’s not my mate.” I shot back with a scowl.

“Really? This mark back here says otherwise.” Ashlyn snapped with a smirk, poking at my back once more. “It’s absolutely beautiful, too. All the swirls and that pretty silver coloring to it, it looks so intricate.”

“Oh no. Oh fuck. The book did mention marks could develop slower sometimes. Oh no, no, no, this isn’t happening. He isn’t a Fae, he’s a clone, Ash. This is the first time this has ever happened. I didn’t even think it was possible for a Fae to have a soulbond with anyone other than another Fae.” I was gripping her arm tightly, my chest getting tight as I struggled to catch my breath. Panic was setting in at the thought of Wolffe triggering the bond and I knew as soon as I saw him frown in worry the closer he got, that he was feeling my panic. The connection had been made and nothing could break that bond now, not even death.

“I’ve been looking for you all day. You’re tough to find, princess.” He was staring hard at my club outfit, eyes roving over the very revealing gold and turquoise silken bodysuit with wide eyes.

“We need to talk later. Right now I just want to have fun, drink, and dance. This is my one night of not being a royal, just a normal girl. So either dance with me or go back to the palace.” My tongue darted out to wet my lips, the simple action making Wolffe clench his jaw for a moment, his eyes flicking from mine to my lips. When he didn’t respond, I shrugged, making to go back to the dance floor, and he grabbed my wrist gently, following after me as the band launched into the song I loved the most.

I closed my eyes as I danced, whimpering softly as Wolffe ran his hands down my bare ribs, his fingers dragging goosebumps along my exposed skin while he explored my body, pulling me close to him so our bodies pressed together. Heat blazed a trail down my spine, pooling in my stomach at his touch, the soulbond fully awakening, becoming a raging inferno that was threatening to burn me to cinders. Opening my eyes, I looked up to meet his hungry gaze, swallowing hard at the desire that was laid bare before me; now I understood what my mother had meant when she would tell me the story of how she and my father met. I could feel everything she had described, every emotion Wolffe was feeling, I felt it too. It was overwhelming, too much information far too fast, pummeling into my soul with a force that I hadn’t been prepared for.

“Wolffe.” I whispered his name, clinging to him like my life depended on it. He leaned down, one hand moving from my hips to my face, calloused thumb running over the apple of my cheek tenderly, and kissed me, leaving me reeling from the heady taste of him.

#Kat writes #Eternally Yours #Commander Wolffe x OC #Wolffe x Danica #Danica Reid #Wolffe x High Fae OC #tcw #sw: tcw #clone wars #sorry this one was a little shorter than the others

[allisondraste]

Temperance 31/42

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Story Summary: Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary:    Liss prepares to leave Denerim with the Grey Wardens. 

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

[AO3 LINK]

Denerim, 9:31 Dragon

Liss awoke to the sound of rustling fabric as it feathered it’s way across the bare skin of her back and shoulders.  Unable to completely blink away the drowsiness that lingered heavy in her eyes, she squinted up at the source of the movement and noise, breath hitching slightly in her throat as she realized what it was.  It had to be a dream, she told herself. There was no way that Nate could be standing in her room, bringing the covers up over her. It was impossible that he looked down at her so fondly, in a way that reminded her of too many years ago.  She was definitely still asleep, and this was the one good dream her mind intended to allow her.  

Or perhaps it wasn’t.  

“Nate,” she mumbled hoarsely, voice failing her.  

“It’s me,” he whispered so softly she could hardly hear it, reaching out and brushing a strand of hair from her face. He allowed his hand to linger on her cheek, its warmth radiated from her face down into her chest.  She had to will herself not to cry. “Go back to sleep. We can talk later.”

Liss brought her hand up to cover his, and smiled lazily. She didn’t want to talk later. She had waited so long, and she just wanted to talk to him that instant.  Still, her body and mind protested the idea of waking any further. She was exhausted, weary, and his gentle instruction to rest was all she needed to let her eyes fall shut so that she could drift back to sleep.

It was still night when she woke again, room devoid of the warm sunlight that typically trickled in through the lone window to greet her in the mornings.  It could not have been more than an hour or so since Nate had come and gone, and yet she was fully rested, as if she had slept through the entire night. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like.  Stretching her arms above her head, Liss yawned and sat up, shivering as the blankets fell away from her bare shoulders, the chilly air falling against her skin. She rubbed her eyes and scooted out of the bed, toes touching the stone floor as she stumbled drowsily across the room to retrieve a light, linen robe that hung on a rack on the wall.

Just as she slipped the robe over her gown into which she did not recall changing, there was a quiet knock at the door.  Three quick raps, and Liss moved to answer it, biting back the fear that bubbled in her chest every time she opened a door since the attack on her home a year prior.  Who could possibly be there anyway? Wasn’t she supposed to be the one who bothered people in the middle of the night?

“How can I hel-” Liss began to say as she pulled open the door, blinking, “Nate?”

“Sorry if I am bothering you,” he apologized, offering her a small smile.

Suddenly self-conscious, she wrapped the robe more tightly around her waist before answering. “You’re not bothering me.” She moved out of the way so that he could enter the room.  “Did I dream that you were in here earlier?”

“No,” Nate laughed, “I came to see if we could talk, but you were asleep, so I left.”

“You told me we’d talk later,” Liss said, teasing him with the edge of her words, “I didn’t realize later would be so soon.”

“I got impatient.” He smirked and met her gaze, blue eyes so intense she thought she might melt into a puddle on the floor. “We can always wait, if you’d prefer it, but-”

“No, no,” Liss blurted, words falling out of her mouth carelessly.  “We can talk now. I’m sorry, I’m just half-asleep. I probably look like such a mess.”  She let her face fall to one of her hands,

“You’re beautiful,” Nate remarked in an uncharacteristically bold fashion.  Or was it uncharacteristic? He added, “You’re also a mess, but that’s nothing that requires an apology.”  Much better.

“Buttering me up, are we,” she asked as playfully as she could, hiding the apprehension in her voice.

“Just stating the facts, my lady.”

“Ugh.  Don’t call me that.”

“Is that not your title?” His voice rang so sincerely, but there was mischief on his face, so she just rolled her eyes.  He laughed, there was a long, heavy pause, and then he continued. “I didn’t come here to flirt aimlessly.”

Liss swallowed hard, and straightened her posture. “Then why did you come here?”

Nate took a few cautious steps forward, closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his.  Despite the chill, she was burning up, her heart pounding.  

“I know you are tired of apologies, but there is one that I still owe you, if you will hear it.” He squeezed her hands and stared at her intently before continuing. “I am so sorry that I never wrote to you.  I was a foolish child with my head up my own arse. I was so scared of my feelings that I ran from them for years.”

“Nate,” she stated breathlessly, eyes welling with tears.

“I am angry at myself and embarrassed that I left you hanging like that,” he explained, his own eyes appearing to water, “You told me you loved me, and I just-” He shook his head and looked away.  

“Nate,” Liss hummed and freed one of her hands from his to bring it to his cheek, guiding his gaze back to her. “It’s okay.  I can hardly blame you for doing what you needed to cope, even if it hurt me in the end.”

Everything was silent for a moment, just a breath, and Nate spoke again.  “Could you love me again?” His question was direct, firm, eyebrows furrowing more deeply with each word.

Liss laughed, shaking her head and causing the tears to drip from her eyes. “I never stopped.”

“Good,”  Nate answered, breath trembling, “I love you, too.  I should have said it back then, before I left, bu-”

Liss interrupted him with a kiss.  It was a brief, nearly chaste brush of her lips against his, but it got his attention, and he froze, staring at her.  She bit her bottom lip and smiled at him, hoping, praying to the Maker above that he’d understand her invitation.

He did, though it did not happen quite as she would have expected.  There was no rush forward, no taking her face in his hands abruptly as he crashed his lips against hers.  No, in his typical Nate fashion, he moved so patiently, so gently, leaning forward to press his forehead to hers.  He lingered there for a moment, running his hands along her arms, over her shoulders, and up to her face. He traced her jawline with his thumbs and it took every ounce of her composure to keep from whimpering.  

Then, Liss woke up.

Her heart pounded in her chest and behind her ears as she sat up abruptly, entire body tingling.  Damn it, damn it, damn it .  If she was going to dream about Nate, the Fade could have at least been courteous enough to let him kiss her before dragging her back to reality.  They’d been so close. She’d gotten her apology, her confession, everything she’d wanted for over eight years, and it had just been her own imagination playing tricks on her.  Sure, it was leaps and bounds better than her nightmares, but she had not even gotten her kiss. Some fantasy that was, waking up from an intimate moment to be alone and ridiculously frustrated.  She groaned and rolled over to press her face into the pillow.

Grumbling, she sat up, vision obstructed by a heap of hair that fell directly into her face.  She raked it back with her fingers before sliding out of bed. Unlike her dream, Liss was wearing the thick woolen shirt and breeches she had on the night before.  She’d been so exhausted that she did not even think about changing. Sunlight trickled into the room as well, past the curtains, warming the chilly floor. How long had she slept anyway? She figured her body needed the rest. She also figured it needed a bath.

Liss milled about the room, gathering her things.  A small tub sat in her room, near the fireplace, but using it required bothering the already overworked servants to fetch water and heat the coals.  She could have also prepared the bath herself. She wasn’t so spoiled that she couldn’t fetch her own water and heat her own coals; however, a perfectly appropriate semi-private bathing area sat just down the hall in the guest wing.  She’d used the basins there ever since she first moved into the palace, and most of the time she had the place to herself. Not that she was overly modest or anything of the sort.

Just as she collected her soaps and change of close up into her arms, a brief quiet knock rang at the door.  Sighing, she answered with an annoyed, “Who is it?”

“Anora,” chimed the pretty voice from the other side of the heavy wooden door, and if it were possible to kick oneself, Liss would have done it repeatedly.

Dropping her things, she rushed to the door and pulled it open quickly, painting on the most apologetic smile she could.  “Your majesty.”

“Elissa,” Anora said pleasantly, looking completely unoffended to Liss’ relief, “Do you have a moment?”

“Um.  Of course,” Liss replied politely and moved out of the doorway so that the queen could enter.  “What do you need, your majesty?”

“I spoke with the Warden-Commander yesterday evening.  She told me that you are joining the Wardens.”

Liss’ stomach churned, her heart sinking.  She had not even considered how joining the Wardens would affect her position on the queen’s council.  She should have asked for permission, spoken with Anora about it first. “Yes, I asked, but if you wish me to remain here to serve on your council, I will.”

“No,” Anora laughed, “Not at all.  It is actually quite the coincidence, as I have decided to disband my small council for the time being.  With the restoration from the Blight and Civil War nearing completion, things are beginning to quiet. The issues with the Wardens in Amaranthine have caused quite the stir, but I think I have come up with a solution.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.  The Warden-Commander has graciously offered to step down from her position as Arlessa.”

“So does that mean it will become property of the crown again?”  Liss had no idea what good it would do to remove a stable leader from the arling so soon after a darkspawn invasion.  Regardless of how the people felt about the Grey Wardens, they provided a necessary structure that would aid the recovery.

“No,” Anora began, “I’ve sent a raven to Kirkwall for Delilah Howe, to ask if she will assume the title.  I believe that returning the land to the Howe family will douse more than one fire.”

“Delilah will make a wonderful arlessa,” Liss assured Anora, “I am certain the people will love her, and I’m happy that she's not being punished for Arl Rendon’s crimes.”

“I am hopeful,” Anora sighed, “However, should I need your assistance again-”

“You may call on me any time.”

“I appreciate that.  More than you know.” The queen smiled slightly and averted her gaze to the ground as if ashamed of her own fondness.  “In councils such as mine, in the landsmeet even, people spend so much time debating who is right that they often forget to consider what is right.  You don’t. Your voice has been a humble and present reminder of that, Lady Elissa. From what I know of your parents, they would be proud of you.”

Unexpected tears welled in Liss’ eyes.  “It is my honor, your majesty. You’ve been so kind to me.”

“Be well, Elissa.”

“You too,” Liss choked out, bowing her head reverently as Anora turned to leave the room.  If saying goodbye to the queen was this difficult, she dreaded her conversation with Bria. She might just die instead.

As soon as Anora was gone,  she picked up her things once again and made her way down the hall toward the bath area with which she had become so familiar.  Upon opening the door, she was greeted with a rush of warm, damp air brushing against her face. The room was occupied by several water basins, filled and heated by enchanted runes.  Liss remembered reading somewhere that King Maric had borrowed much from the dwarves he encountered on his journeys, and apparently it extended to even the operation of the bathrooms.  

Setting all of the items she carried down on a shelf near one of the basins, she bent down to remove her shoes, flinching as she heard the soft sound of water moving in a basin across the room.  The urge to immediately panic, her body’s sudden jump into defensiveness, infuriated her. She couldn’t even feel safe taking a bath in one of the safest places in Ferelden.  

The water moved again, accompanied by a soft voice that wasn’t entirely unfamiliar.  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Liss finished taking off her shoes, and rose up to look at the woman who sat in the water across the room from her, long, silky hair damp and dripping over her shoulder.  The Warden-Commander was a completely different person without the shine of her armor, without her hair pulled back from her face, and without the stiff posture that made her seem ten feet tall.  She was just a young woman with far more on her shoulders than Liss could imagine.

“You didn’t,” Liss replied, continuing to undress, “Well, not really.  I just… startle easily, so you don’t have to apologize.”

“Alistair is jumpy, too.”  Lucia smiled sadly, looking down. “At first, I thought that it was because he was scared of me.”

“Are you used to people being scared of you,” she asked as she slipped down into the perfectly warm water.

“I’m a mage.  It comes with the territory,” she explained, “The fact that I have somehow stumbled into a position of authority makes it worse.”

“Right.”  Liss nodded, unsure what to say. It felt too personal, and she didn’t understand why the woman she barely knew was saying such things. “For what it’s worth: I don’t think you’re frightening.  Not for being a mage, and not for making difficult decisions that nobody else would want to make.”

“Thank you,” the other woman said and shifted beneath the water.  There was a brief moment of silence and she opened her mouth as if to speak, but shut it abruptly.

“What is it?”

“I was going to ask something,” Lucia  admitted, “But then I realized that it might be too personal.  We don’t really know one another.”

Liss shrugged.  “We’re naked in the same room together, so if there ever were a time to get too personal, I’d say this is appropriate.”

“You have a point,” Lucia remarked, laughing quietly, “I was going to ask how you got that scar?”

Reflexively, Liss drew her hand up to her shoulder, as if she meant to hide the big ugly mark. “It’s a gift from Rendon Howe,” she answered dryly, tracing the mark with her fingertips, “I don’t even remember it happening, to be honest.  Everything was so terrible that day, getting slashed across the shoulder did not seem so bad.”

“Oh. Right,” Lucia said, voice heavy with genuine emotion that Liss found surprising, “I’m sorry.  I should have known.”

“It’s okay.”

A silence stretched between them for what could have been an eternity for all Liss knew, and she grappled internally for anything to say.  Despite having only just met Lucia a few days prior, their stories were so intertwined now, every topic she could possibly discuss led to more topics she did not wish to.  She worried that at any moment, the other woman would change her mind about allowing Liss to join the Wardens, that she would change her mind about forgiving her for the whole kissing Alistair thing. She was terrified that she would leave and take him with her, take Nate with her.  Liss would be alone, without a purpose, without a place. No, it was safer to be silent than to risk upsetting the person who held her one opportunity at a new life in her delicate little hands.

Suddenly, Lucia stood, water splashing and trickling around her, drawing Liss from her ruminations.  She brought her eyes up to the woman whose brows were furrowed as she stared off into space, likely in her own mind as well.  She was so thin, so pale that her skin was almost translucent. She had scars, too. Long, shallow marks on her arms and abdomen, several deep marks that looked to be from arrows  near her chest. Liss marveled at her, wondered how the woman who looked so fragile could have survived those wounds at all.

“I suppose I’ve spent enough time sitting here, stewing in my thoughts,” she said with a laugh, picking up a towel and drying herself before wrapping it around her body. “I need to make sure things are in order for the trip back to Amaranthine.  You should, as well.” She sounded much more distant than she had just moments before.

“Oh.  When will we be leaving?”

“This afternoon.”

“Okay,” Liss said with a nod, taking a shaky breath.  She hadn’t expected to leave so soon. “I’ll be ready.”

Lucia finished drying off, slipped on a long tunic and leggings that she likely wore underneath her armor, before  exiting the room and leaving Liss to bathe in proper. She’d been so distracted by the other woman before, that she’d forgotten why she’d come in the first place.  Knowing that she’d be leaving soon, she hurried through washing her body and hair, hopping out of the basin, drying, getting dressed, and heading back to her own quarters.  She wanted to make sure that she had enough time to say goodbye to Bria more than anything. Luckily, she had few things to pack: her armor and sword, journals, and some of the clothing Anora had given her, so she was able to gather everything together quickly, and make her way out of the castle.  

Her hair was more than a little damp, and the long curls stiffened as she stepped out into the crisp air, the cold prickling up on her skin. She should have thought to put on a coat, but she certainly wasn’t going back for one now.  There was so little time. She began to make her way toward the market and to Bria’s shop. It would be warm there after all.

Liss stopped in her tracks as she entered the courtyard and caught a glimpse of a row of hay targets, and a lean figure standing at a distance from them, firing arrows rapidly, one after another.  It had been such a long time since she’d seen Nate practice, she hadn’t even considered how much better he would have gotten over the years. She smiled and her heart fluttered in her chest, heat rushing to her face.  Apparently, it was attractive to her. Then again, it always had been. She didn’t know why she was surprised.

“Nate,” she called, moving in closer, watching as every muscle in his back and shoulders tensed at the sound of her voice.  She could only remember him ever doing that when he was bent out of shape about one thing or another, and when he turned to face her, the unenthusiastic smile he offered her did nothing to convince her otherwise.  He continued to shoot as if she had not spoken to him.   Liss moved closer and stood behind him watching attentively as she had always done. Pulling an arrow from its quiver, nocking, and aiming, he fired, sending an arrow toward the center of the target, splitting another arrow down the middle.  Her eyes widened involuntarily and she blinked a few times to make sure she’d actually seen what happened.

“You’ve gotten a lot better at that since the last time I watched you.”

“I should hope so,” Nate mumbled gruffly, words so pointed they might as well have been arrows.

Unable to appropriately process what he said and the tone in which he said it quickly enough, Liss just made what she assumed was an incredibly ridiculous and befuddled face at him. He’d never spoken to her in any way other than gentle, with the exception of the times he was attempting to appease his father, but Arl Howe was not present, or even alive for that matter, and the harshness seemed uncalled for.  If Nate noticed her expression, he didn’t show it, and continued with his practice.

It was a complete change in demeanor from the night before, when he all but kissed her, when he’d come into her room and spoken so softly.  What could she have possibly done to upset him in her sleep? Had he changed his mind about her? Was he ignoring her… again? The barrage of worries and painful possibilities tied knots in her stomach.  EIght years she had spent concerned and confused about him. He was here now, and she refused to let him make her feel that way again. Steeling herself with a breath, she marched her way over to stand in front of Nate, so that she was between him and his intended target with a hand on her hip.

“Liss,” Nate sighed, clearly irritated as he lowered his bow and returned an arrow to his quiver. “Don’t do this.”

“What,” she asked sharply, “You think I’m just going to stand there and let you ignore me?  How many years have we known each other, Nate?”

“Not enough for you to know when to leave me alone, clearly.”  Liss wasn’t certain, but she would have sworn she saw him flinch at his own words.

She shook her head and  crossed her arms. “Is that really what you want?”

“No,” he blurted, “That’s not what I want.  None of this is what I want, but my opinion doesn’t matter anyway, does it?”

Liss tilted her head and squinted. “What?” She had no idea in Thedas what he was going on about. Had he just dreamed up a reason to be angry with her?

“You’ve asked to join the Grey Wardens,” he said as if it were an accusation.

“Yes,” she said with a fair amount of hesitation.  She had not even considered that he, of all people, would take issue with it.

“Why?”

“I suppose ‘Because I wanted to,’ isn’t going to cut it for you, is it?”

“No.”

“Well,” Liss began, willing away the anger and hurt that caused her voice to shake to no avail, “When my family was murdered, everything I ever knew about how my life was going to go was tossed out the window.  I’ve spent well over a year searching to find my footing again, to find a place where I belong, a purpose.”

“And you thought that joining the Wardens was the best way to do that,” Nate asked, and for the first time she saw the worry beneath all of his ruffled feathers.  ‘What about Anora? Fergus?”

Liss smiled, though she didn’t mean it. “They don’t need me, Nate.  Queen Anora has decided to disband her council for the time being, and Fergus, well, as much as I would like to help him, I can’t even walk down the hallways in our castle without reliving that night over and over again.”

“I understand that,” he said more gently, moving closer to Liss.  He dropped his bow haphazardly, placing his hands on her arms, “It’s just… being a Warden isn’t just something you do.  It is something you become. I know you have these romantic ideas about what the Grey Wardens are, but it is nothing so glorious.”

“Nothing is as romantic or glorious as it seems, I’m afraid,” she said with a laugh.  Nate did not find it funny.

“I’m serious, Liss,” he said, hands squeezing her arms more tightly.  It wasn’t rough by any means. He did not have it in him to be rough, and she knew it, but she could feel his frustration. “I am not supposed to tell you this, but The Joining, the ritual you have to participate in can kill you instantly.”

“So could a random boulder falling on my head and squashing me.”  She flashed another smile at him, and again he remained unamused.

Disregarding her comment, he continued. “Even if you survive the ritual, it will kill you eventually.  We get thirty years to live, at best. That’s it.”

“That’s more than most people get,” she remarked nonchalantly, although in her mind she remembered Oriana and Oren, their lives cut so desperately short, “At least this way, I get some say in how it happens.”

“Son of a- Elissa ,” Nate said through his teeth, “I know that you are trying to regain some sense of control in your life, but I am telling you that this   is not the way to do that.  I am trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Nathaniel ,” she snapped, pushing his hands off of her arms and stepping away from him, “I’ve never needed that, and you know it.  All I need from you is for you to be my friend, and to support the decisions I make for myself.”

“I can’t watch you die, Liss.” His voice wavered as he spoke.  He cleared his throat, stiffened his posture, and continued. “And I won’t.  Make a needless sacrifice if you must, but don’t expect me to support you.” With that, he shook his head and pushed past her toward the entrance of the castle, not even caring to pick up the bow that he left laying in the dirt.

Typically, Liss would have cried.  She wanted to cry at that moment, but she was too angry.  What had Nate hoped to accomplish with his attitude anyway?  Did he not thing she was strong enough to be a Grey Warden? Did he not want her there?  How dare he think that he was allowed to have any say in the matter anyway. He had ignored her for eight years, left her alone to think that he didn’t care about her for eight Maker-forsaken years.  He had no right to care now. She told herself he was being a selfish arse, and that he’d snap out of it later. He’d apologize, and everything would be okay. For the moment, her departure from Denerim was inching closer, and she still had one more goodbye to make.  

Picking up the bow from the ground and leaning it against the target so that it would not get stepped on and broken, Liss left the courtyard, as she had intended all along and headed toward the Market District.  Saying goodbye to Bria would be painful, she knew, but nothing could be worse than her conversation with Nate. In fact, knowing Bria, she’d find some way to make Liss laugh, and if she were to survive the trip to Amaranthine, she was counting on it.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age awakening #nathaniel howe #nathaniel howe x cousland #cousland #temperance #my writing #update

[imagine-loki]

Giftless

TITLE: Giftless CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 43/50

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die.  Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

You woke to Loki lifting you from the couch and you stirred in his arms. “How was catching up with your dad?” you asked him softly, not truly awake, but awake enough to remember why you had been waiting up for him, even though you had failed at actually staying awake.

It was the thought that mattered.

“It was wonderful,” he replied with the brightest smile you could remember ever seeing on his face. He was so lit up that his father had finally given him some attention.

“I’m glad,” you told him sleepily, your voice a soft purr.

“You should not have waited up for me,” he scolded, but he was gentle and teasing, and was actually touched that you had. He tried to sound stern, but it came out lovingly exasperated.

“Didn’t. Fell asleep on the couch,” you reminded him. 

He chuckled. “Bedtime, darling. We have nothing but big days for the rest of the week,” he reminded you . He settled you in the bed and joined you a minute later. He was surprised that you instantly curled up with him. Usually cuddling for sleeping only came after the nightmares. He didn’t complain, though, and you fell back asleep safely curled in your boyfriend’s arms.

Loki wasn’t lying when he said the rest of the week would be filled with nothing but big days. You barely saw him for the week, as you had to learn how to be a princess in the course of a few short days. Frigga and Sif spent every moment possible prepping you for the ceremony and in princess lessons. It was hard work when you had terrible American posture and no idea how to be a princess.

Suddenly, it was the day of the ceremony. Thor burst into your suite stupidly early, before the sun had even rose. “Thor!” you shrieked, pulling the blankets up to cover yourself, even though you weren’t indecent. Loki sat up and Thor grabbed him before he could look over at you and tossed him over his shoulder.

“Thor, while I’m sure your wife appreciates the view of your derriere, I would much rather see my darling soulbond,” Loki commented dryly, while you giggled at their antics. You didn’t know what was going on, but it was fun.

“Tough luck, Brother. You shall just have to enjoy the view of my posterior instead. My soulbond has told me on numerous occasions that it is a wonderful view. It is tradition to not see your soulbond until the ceremony on the day of. You know this, Brother. It is bad luck,”

“We’re already bound, moron,” Loki replied grumpily.

“Tradition is tradition, Brother,” he somehow maneuvered to set Loki on his feet so Loki was facing away from the bed and couldn’t see you. “I am willing to be generous, this morning, though,” Thor added with a grin. He tied a strip of cloth over Loki’s eyes.

“How is this generous, Brother?” Loki demanded indignantly.

“I will allow your lovely soulbond to kiss you goodbye,” Thor announced, pleased with himself for being so generous.

“Ah, yes, very generous, Brother,” Loki replied sarcastically while you climbed out of the bed. You blushed a little as you was wearing an Asgardian nightdress, which was way more revealing than your normal pajamas. Thor didn’t seem phased, though. Loki turned around and you went over to him and stood on your toes so you could give him a kiss. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed you  deeply, holding you against him while you wrapped your arms around his neck. You finally let him go when Thor cleared his throat. He grabbed Loki again and threw him back over his shoulder.

“I would hate for you to run into a wall, little brother,” Thor laughed at Loki’s indignant splutters. “Mother and Sif will be here soon to help you get ready, Sister,” Thor warned you before he left with Loki. You pulled a robe on and used magic to straighten the room quickly before curling yourself on the couch in the sittingroom with a book to wait for Frigga and Sif.

“They are perfect for each other,” Sif commented when they walking into the room later. You smiled up at them at set down your book, getting up from the couch at the same time.

“You expected?” you asked her in reply. 

“Nothing less,”

“Dears, we have a lot of work to do before the ceremony,” Frigga reminded you gently. You stopped your laughing and let the day begin. Your hair and makeup were done expertly by the palace staff. It took forever since they did it without magic, but the results were amazing. You was dressed in an elegant blue gown with golden sparkles throughout, looking like stars that were falling into the border of golden sparkles at the bottom of the dress. It was gorgeous and fit you like a glove.

Once all the preparations were made, you went to the antechamber near the throne room. The procession would start from there. Loki was there with Thor already, waiting for you. Loki was blindfolded again and protesting the treatment. You laughed at him when you entered the room. “Thor, you are in charge. Sif and I will take our places,” Frigga told Thor, who gave her a bow.

“Of course, Mother,” he replied formally. Frigga and Sif left you.

“Now may I take this stupid blindfold off?” Loki whined at Thor. Both Brothers were dressed in their finest formal wear and had crowns on their heads.

“No, you may not,” Thor replied pleasantly. He turned to you. “You look beautiful, Sister dear,” he told you warmly. You had the feeling that he just wanted to rile Loki up.

He succeeded.

“I am sure Thor is correct, darling,” Loki finally said after he’d finished grumbling. He reached a hand up to his blindfold, but Thor slapped it back down immediately.

“No tricks, Brother. You shall see her soon. And don’t you even think about vanishing it with magic,” Thor added quickly. Loki huffed, but obeyed. He only did because it was important to his family. Loki tried to come over to kiss you, but Thor held him back by the back of the shirt. 

You couldn’t help giggling at their antics. 

You finally heard the music change. “Come along, Brother, our cue is soon.” You all left the antechamber. That music had indicated that all the guests were in place. You followed them, staying a couple steps behind them so you could wait for your cue. “The doors will open again when it is your cue, Sister,” Thor reminded you.

“Thank you,” you told him, feeling the nerves now that you were standing there. You kept trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t a real wedding. This was too soon in your relationship for a real wedding. It was a ceremony to appease his family, to prove to them that this wasn’t a sham. The feelings were real, even if the soulbond had come from unfortunate circumstances.

/It won’t change anything, darling. I promise you/ Loki told you, reading the emotions of your worry.

/I know. This is still a step we wouldn’t be ready for except that circumstances give us no choice/ you reminded him, expressing your feelings.

/I know, darling, and I wish that you could be spared it, but it was the only way to save you life. Now, we both must face the consequences of you being soulbound to a prince/

The music changed again. Thor removed Loki’s blindfold moments before the doors opened, just enough to allow them to pass through. Loki was extremely well behaved for once and did not look back to catch a glimpse of you. It was against the rules. 

You were jealous of Loki for a moment. He had his brother to walk with him. 

You would have to make the procession alone.

The music changed again and the doors swung open. You steeled yourself, and made the procession down the long aisle of the throne room, focusing on nothing but Loki as you walked, careful not to trip. You tried to ignore the crowd around you as you passed them. Loki’s expression was worth all of this. He was so overjoyed and so in awe of…you.

You were just a little mortal and he was in awe of you.

You couldn’t quite believe it.

You finally made it to your place in front of the throne, facing Loki, just like a human wedding. You tried to force that thought from your mind. This wasn’t a wedding. Odin and Frigga were standing in front of their thrones. Odin made a short speech that you didn’t catch a word of. You were too entranced with everything else that was going on. “It is on this joyous occasion that my youngest son, Prince Loki, would like to make an announcement,” you caught the last words of Odin’s speech. This was the important part.

Loki dropped to one knee and you felt your heart skip a beat. You had to remind yourself again that this wasn’t a real wedding, not a real proposal. It was a ruse, an act to appease his people. When you saw the look in his eyes when he took your left hand in both of his, you knew that was a lie. No matter what he said, this was very real to him. You should have been uncomfortable with that, but he was so insistent that your relationship wouldn’t change, that nothing back home would change, that you weren’t uncomfortable and got swept up in the moment instead.

“Blessed be the name of Odin, my father, and Frigga, his queen.” Loki started the ritual words, speaking them slowly and clearly this time. He didn’t have to rush through them to save your life. “In their names, with their power, and with joy in your heart you make this vow. With their blessing, you give this gift. I choose you, Y/N Kathryn Stark. To stand by your side and sleep in your arms. To guard and cherish, to bring joy to your heart. To learn with you and grow with you. Without your love, I am incomplete. I bind myself to you with these vows, willingly and wholeheartedly, free from doubt or reservation. With love, I will tell you the truth as I understand it. I will honor and respect you. I will rejoice in your joys and weep in your sorrows. I will love and cherish you without cease, without pause, without hesitation for all of our days. You are my equal, my partner, my life. So I give this gift to you and you alone. I share your life and my soul with you. All that is mine is yours, I bind myself now to you, from this moment until the end of all of our days.” He kissed the back of your left hand and the pattern of black and green lines up both of our arms started glowing in response.

There was absolutely no sound in the audience while they waited for your reply. You took a breath and spoke the words you had worked so hard to memorize.  “Blessed be the name of Frigga, queen of Asgard, and of Odin her king. In their names, with their power, and with joy in my heart, I return your vow. With their blessing, I give this gift. I choose you, Prince Loki. To stand by your side and sleep in your arms. To guard and cherish, to bring joy to your heart. To learn with you and grow with you. Without your love, I am incomplete. I bind myself to you with these vows, willingly and wholeheartedly, free from doubt or reservation. With love, I will tell you the truth as I understand it, I will honor and respect you. I will rejoice in your joys and weep in your sorrows. I will love and cherish you without cease, without pause, without hesitation for all of our days. You are my equal, my partner, my life. So I give this gift to you and you alone. I share my life and my soul with you. All that is mine is yours, I bind myself now to you, from this moment until the end of all of our days.” You spoke the words as you had been practicing all week, loudly enough to be heard by all and clearly enough to be understood. You took Loki’s left hand and bowed over it, placing your lips against the back of his cool hand, over the pattern there. The lines of gold and blue magic on your arms glowed in response. The crowd cheered as Loki stood and pulled you into a hug to kiss you deeply.

Frigga stepped forward when Loki finally broke the kiss and you stood side by side in front of her. She held a beautiful silver tiara in her hands. You dipped into a curtsy in front of her when she moved to stand in front of you.  “Welcome to our family, Daughter,” she announced, settling the tiara on your head. “Rise as the newest Princess of Asgard” You rose and turned with Loki to face the crowd who broke into cheers again.

You and Loki led the procession back out of the throne room and straight to the waiting feast. The feast lasted until dawn. At least you could escape the crowd then and return to the safety of your suite before the feast ended.  “You are quite ravishing darling,” he whispered, holding you tightly once we were safely in your suite. You wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes to better kiss him. “I have been wanting to do this all day,” he said between kisses. It was after quite a few kisses that you remembered what you had neglected to remember all day. This was the equivalent of his wedding night. You hadn’t taken that into account, somehow. Loki had kept saying that nothing would change, so you hadn’t even thought about it. You stiffened in his arms and took a step back. “What’s wrong, darling?” he asked, concerned.

You held up a finger to tell him you needed a moment. It would take you a minute to figure out how to explain your concern. He waited patiently, which was impressive given the circumstances. “This is the equivalent of your wedding night,” you started, still unsure of your words. You couldn’t ask the thing you needed to, couldn’t tell him that you was denying him the activity that generally occurred on a wedding night.

“Technically,” he answered, warily. “Kat, I thought you made it clear. Nothing is changing between us, just because we had to survive a ceremony for your family and kingdom. Nothing has to change,” You paid attention to his words since he actually used your name for once. “I would love nothing more than to marry you someday, but that day will be in the future, once we are both ready for it. I’m sorry I had to force the soulbond on you. It was the only way to save your life. I’m not sorry for saving your life, but I’m sorry to have put you in this situation. My previous statement still stands: when we go home, if you want me to leave, to stop courting you, to stand aside, I will. I will go without complaint the instant you ask. I will not force you into a relationship with me. If you want to continue our relationship, we will and we will move at the speed you are comfortable with and not one bit faster,” he told you firmly. He opened his arms to you and you wrapped your arms around his slim waist and let him hold you.

“You’re not…disappointed that we’re not…consummating… your marriage tonight?” you asked him in a small scared voice. He kissed the top of your head.

“Not at all, darling. I would consider myself extremely lucky if you allow me to spend our resting hours with your heartbeat next to mine. I would be perfectly content sleeping on the couch if that is what it took to make you feel safe and comfortable,” 

You looked up at him and smiled, reassured by his honeyed words. “How did I ever deserve you?” you asked him softly. 

He kissed you lightly.  “I ask how I ever deserve you every day,” he replied. “Now let’s get out of these uncomfortable pretty clothes and get some rest. We only have one more day of visiting before we have to go home,” he reminded you. You turned your back to him and moved your hair away from the back of your neck.

“Can you get the tie for me?” you asked him. You couldn’t quite reach it. You knew that since Sif had to tie it for you earlier.

“Of course,” he replied. You felt his cool fingers against your neck as he undid the tie for you.

“Thank you.” You blushed and ducked into the bedroom to find some pajamas, cursing yourself for not just using magic to change clothes. You kept forgetting you had powers sometimes. 

You found your pajamas and curled in the middle of Loki’s giant bed. He joined you a minute later and you finally got to get some sleep, even with the sun shining into the bedroom.

You only slept a few hours as you had a lot of visiting with Loki’s family to do today. You were leaving first thing tomorrow morning. Saying goodbye to everyone was going to be hard, you absolutely loved it on Asgard. You spent the afternoon with Sif and Thor and the evening after dinner with them and Loki’s parents. It was bittersweet when you said goodnight that evening. The goodbyes the next morning were even more difficult, even with Frigga’s reassurances that you could come visit anytime. You and Loki created the portal together that morning and gave everyone one final hug before you walked through it back home.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #giftless #chapter 43 #nekoamamori

[softjeon]

Devil’s Hand | Pt. 1

• Pairing: King!Namjoon x Jungkook • Side-Pairings:  Namjoon x Jimin | Namjoon x Yoongi | Prince!Hoseok x Jungkook • Genre: Angst / Smut | Royal!AU ( → Gifset Trailer) • Words: 7k | Co-Writer: Cat @cassiavioletblue • Disclaimer: alcohol, abusive relationsships, abusive behavior, (sexual) violence, major character death

↳   There had been rumors, but in the end it was not really a secret that Namjoon loved delicate and beautiful things. Especially when it came down to his lovers and his castle. It was decorated with lot of flowing, long blue curtains, colorful paintings in every room, rows of marble columns leading along every aisle. There was a large garden surrounding the palace, which was by far Jungkook’s favorite place to be – next to the king’s bedroom.

« previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter »

The only sound in the room came from the scratch of the King’s quill. It didn’t stop on the parchment, only pausing for a second when his consultant and closest confident Yoongi was gathering the signed one's together, only to hand out a new paper to sign. Jungkook waited patiently after he had entered the room, looking around. There were bookshelves lining the walls in great stacks rising nearly to the ceiling and right above the king’s head was a painting of the King’s realm. “Good,” Namjoon’s voice echoed through the room as he put his quill aside and stood up, his gaze falling onto Jungkook. A smile appeared on his lips, making the young man’s heart skip a beat. “My king-,” Jungkook began, sinking to one knee and only when the King raised his left hand, motioning for him to rise, he came closer.

It was Jungkook’s job to do anything his highness desired. He had been there at the king’s side, getting up early every morning, for as long as he could remember, fulfilling every wish that Namjoon asked of him. His mother had done this job before him, serving the king’s parents – and now he was following her footsteps, just like it was supposed to be, with serving Namjoon. 

Kneeling on the floor a little while later again, Jungkook adjusted the king’s gown once more. With a smile he got up again, starting to button up the king’s shirt. “You look very handsome in your new attire, my King,” Jungkook spoke softly not wanting Yoongi to hear or else he would get scolded for it later again. No one had to know too much about his admiration for the king. There had been rumors, but in the end it was no secret that Namjoon loved delicate and beautiful things. Especially when it came down to his lovers and his castle. It was decorated with lot of flowing, long blue curtains, colorful paintings in every room, rows of marble columns leading along every aisle. There was a large garden surrounding the palace, which was by far Jungkook’s favorite place to be – next to the king’s bedroom. He loved feeling the silk beneath his naked body, feeling Namjoon’s hot breath on his skin as the king was hovering over him. The king strived for power, might and sex and Jungkook was one of his prized possessions. He had to bite his lip, as the blush heated up his cheeks and Jungkook quickly turned around to get Namjoon’s jewelry.

“Prince Hoseok has arrived for tonight’s celebration,” Yoongi announced, turning away from the window towards Namjoon again. His brows were furrowed, his shoulders straight and Jungkook chuckled at his stiff behavior. “Do you want me to order Jin to escort the prince personally tonight? He can keep an eye on him,” Yoongi spoke further, ignoring the young man that was still fumbling around the king’s attire. “We don’t want him to act out like last year again, right?”

It was no secret that Hoseok had gotten horribly drunk last time he visited, it had been Namjoon’s birthday and of course he had been expected to come and show his respects. It hadn’t looked very respectful though when it had ended with Hoseok fighting some knights in his drunken state, screaming something about how he was better then them, better than everyone in this goddamn kingdom. Jungkook would never forget the look in Namjoon’s eyes.

A short while later he nervously pulled at the seam of his own shirt, almost ripping down the delicate embroidery with his force. After getting Namjoon dressed he had left him in the care of his other servants, dressing up himself. Of course Jungkook, as someone closely related to the king was supposed to look his best when someone as important as Prince Hoseok was visiting for the king’s birthday. Although he wasn’t allowed to stay too close to the king at official feasts as he wasn’t of higher rank. Still he stayed close to be of help the second Namjoon needed him.

He was really on edge today. The feast was important and way too big for his liking with way too many people that he didn’t know (and in general to be honest) but what was even more stirring was the fact that there would also be an ambassador present and a whole entourage of other people, all from the neighbourhood kingdom that accompanied Prince Hoseok today. They were supposed to arrive shortly and were probably here to help the discussions that were going on at the moment. There had been conferences about trade links between both countries before and he probably wanted show their ‘good will’ as they seemed to have gotten more heated lately - even though it was strange that the old King hadn’t payed a visit himself. There were some rumors going around that Hoseok couldn’t wait to be king and was practically taking over his father's duties piece by piece not caring that it made the old king look weaker than he actually was.

Jungkook had no idea what all the discussions lately had been about but he guessed it was the same as usual; their natural resources of mineral deposits. They had a lot of iron ore here in their kingdom, so much actually that there was no way they could ever tire their sources within the next few centuries. it was even used for children’s toys. Or decorations. Like there was a geode the size of two men somewhere in the royal gardens.

Jungkook had hid in it one time while playing hide and seek with the king. But Namjoon had been summoned by a minister to an impromptu assembly with important people for a reason Jungkook didn’t remember so he had stayed in there for hours and had eventually fallen asleep. His butt had hurt so badly when he had been woken by one of the maids. She’d been furious because half of the stuff had been sent to search for him. He hadn’t been allowed into the gardens for a week.

Jungkook sighed, scanning the room full of fancily dressed people again, stopping at King Namjoon who was sitting on his throne all stoically. Though Kook knew the older hated this just as much. Not for the same reasons as Kook did but he hated that he had to sit there without being able to do anything while hoards of people came up to him to greet him when instead he would have preferred to eat something of the delicious and beautifully prepared buffet or wander the gardens or maybe just take a nap. He didn’t get a good nights sleep in a while, the nights were always too short, the days too long, filled with political duties and boring conferences.

There was a whisper going through the hall, like a gust of wind from one side to the other, starting from the entry and ending at Namjoon’s throne. When Namjoon straightened immediately Jungkook turned to look what all this fuss was about and froze a little when he saw the source of it all. Prince Hoseok had finally arrived and he was in midst of about thirty people, all of them dressed in gold and diamonds, an absurd showing off of wealth and prosperity. An ill tongue could say that it looked as if Hoseok was trying to get the spotlight away from Namjoon and onto himself. The Prince himself looked very comfortable and relaxed, nonchalantly waving one of Namjoon’s maids over to get him a glass of wine.

“Ah, my dear king,” Hoseok bowed, not even caring to get on one knee in front of the king. He reached for the wine the maid brought him right away, drinking the glass empty in one go. The prince held his head high, walking ahead as if he was owning the castle, very well aware of the fact that it was maddening Namjoon. It was his territory after all. Meanwhile Jungkook’s eyes followed the prince movements, as he walked up to the throne with a smile, ready to jump up the second Namjoon would ask for him. “Another year has passed, and one might say you’d still look as young as ever…we could argue about that, but…,” Hoseok kept teasing his old ‘friend’, “Either way, I didn’t come empty handed this time.”

Namjoon’s mouth was a thin line. In private he would have told Hoseok to get his shit together and stop being a cocky douchebag but out in the great hall he had to maintain his image as calm, perfect king and that meant not reacting to Hoseok’s antics. Therefore he answered with a smile although his eyes where still icy, giving away that he’d rather preferred to throw an apple against Hoseok’s head than be nice to him. “I’m pleased to see you my friend. And you also brought a gift? How thoughtful of you. I’m sure it will be carefully chosen and tasteful, just like you proof with your appearance.” He gave Hoseok a once over, leaving no doubt that he thought his showy and pretentious attire was absolutely distasteful.

Jungkook couldn’t help but giggle softly, when he heard the undertone of Namjoon’s voice making the prince snap his head around to the young man. He stopped immediately, feeling Hoseok’s piercing gaze on him. Jungkook held his gaze even as his heart skipped a beat at the dark intensity in his. The slanted smile that appeared on the prince’s lips soon after was almost…beautiful. Jungkook quickly averted his gaze, looking over to Namjoon for a second as a blush crept up his cheeks.

When Hoseok turned back around to the king, his smile didn’t waver. He waved his hand, calling out a name that Jungkook didn’t catch, when a young man stood out from the crowd of people behind the prince. He was moving slow, sensual, his eyes devouring the king’s as he got down on one knee. The prince simply walked around the table, letting everyone wait patiently for what he brought this year, as he sat a few chairs away from Namjoon, not wanting to miss the show himself. “I am sure you will like this,” He nodded towards the king and with another wave of his hand music began to play and Jimin snapped his eyes open, a smirk playing on his plumb lips.

Despite their underlying hostility Namjoon was intrigued the second his eyes met those of the dancer. He was beautiful just kneeling there - but it was nothing compared to what he looked like while he was dancing. When the music started Jimin reacted instantly, his body moving so fluidly and naturally as if the music itself was controlling it and not Jimin. He was utter control, right down to his toes and up to his fingertips, no gesture, no expression seemed wrong, it all came together into a wonderful, stunning piece of art. Suddenly he pulled out a fan from the depth of his sleeve, it barely took a second and didn’t interrupt the dance at all - and with him came a few other dancers that accompanied him now, joining him for graceful formations and artistic pictures created with their fans and bodies. Still no matter how many people there were, it was impossible to take your eyes off Jimin. He owned this dance and he knew it, pure confidence shining in his eyes. It was incredibly sexy. The dance ended way too soon and before he could even think of it Namjoon found himself applauded enthusiastically, the rest of his court joining in until Jimin, who had kneeled down in his final scene again was rewarded with thunderous applause.

Jungkook stood in awe, as he slowly clapped along with the others. He hadn’t expected that, especially not from the prince. Unintentionally Jungkook was searching for him, seeing him take a sip from his wine proudly, as his gaze met his again. A shiver ran down his spine, but he willed himself to smile.

The dancers vanished soon after and Hoseok loved the attention that it got him. He nodded towards the king, cheering his glass as a smile graced his lips. For the first time in a long time, Namjoon actually liked his present. This was too easy.  

Against better Judgement Namjoon was Interested. He leaned into Hoseok's direction, waving him over towards him. “He’s amazing! Where did you get him?” There wasn’t many things a king who had practically everything could want but no one in his court could dance like that. If Jimin was from a certain school or region in Hoseok’s kingdom where there where more like him then perhaps he could get one of his one. Jimin would fit so well into his court, entertaining envoys and high class allies that visited his court. He hesitated for a second and then pushed further, asking a very private question. “What else is he trained in?”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow at Namjoon, smirking knowingly. He knew damn well how good Jimin was at making people lose his mind over him in the matter of a few seconds... 

“Everything you wish for,” The prince spoke, putting his arm around the king as the people around them continued to eat, dance and celebrate the king’s birthday. “You don’t need to be bothered about where he’s from, but only know that I will gladly let him stay for your entertainment,” He said and waved a maid over, to make sure she would get Jimin back as soon as possible. “That’s what friends do, right?”

Namjoon was tensing, the guards by his side tightening their grip around their weapons when Hoseok got close to Namjoon like that. However all anger about the prince’s reckless behaviour was forgotten when Hoseok told him that he would leave Jimin at the court for him. Which basically meant Namjoon could do whatever he wanted to him. Hoseok’s sudden gratitude had him suspicious and for a second he forgot his manners, glad that they were on their own with no one else listening in on them (but the guards and maids and they didn’t count, everyone important was dancing ad eating and having a good time), “Wait, he’s not sick, is he? Is that why you’re leaving him here?“ To practically accuse another prince of threatening his life with an unknown disease was pretty insulting - but so was getting drunk and fighting one’s guards so Hoseok couldn’t really play the offended here.

But before Hoseok could answer, a soft voice behind the king got both of their attention. “I am not sick, your highness,” Jimin got down on one knee again right before Namjoon and the prince. 

“I am tired of playing games with you Namjoon. We’re old enough now, to keep our relation separated from our past mistakes, aren’t we?” He put a hand on the king’s shoulder, before Hoseok reached out for Jimin, placing a finger under his chin to make the young man look up. “It’s my apology,” He said in a soft tone, “And I hope you can forgive me and take him as my present to you.”

Namjoon was pleasantly surprised. And if he had hesitated before all of his doubts went out the window as soon as he saw Jimin looking up at him. The younger looked angelical, so soft and pure that there was no way there could be something evil inside of him. Namjoon copied Hoseok with reaching out to Jimin's face, caressing the youngers cheek. He breath came out shuddery when Jimin leaned into it shamelessly, submitting so easily it made Namjoon wonder what else he would submit to. He traced Jimin’s plump bottom lip with his thumb and the dancer opened his mouth slightly looking so utterly tender and vulnerable that Namjoon wanted to take him apart right there. Without even looking up at Hoseok he nodded. “You are right. We should move on from the past. And we will. I’ll accept your apology’

Jungkook watched the encounter from afar. His chest was rising heavily with every breath he took, as he bit on his bottom lip to keep himself from barging in. Of course, Jungkook knew that Namjoon had more than one lover, but so far, he had the advantage of being the king’s favorite. The look on the king’s face was way too familiar to him and Jungkook tried to take a deep breath, one that didn’t make his heart hurt and threaten the tears to spill. “Get yourself together,” Yoongi hissed at him, making the younger jerk violently as he didn’t even realize that he came over. He hated being scolded by the superior. “The king wants you to prepare a room for the dancer,” He ordered and Jungkook’s gaze fell onto Namjoon again, before he quickly turned around and did as he was ordered to do.

Hoseok had left Namjoon alone with Jimin, who was reaching out for the king’s hand that he had offered him to get up. “Thank you,” He spoke softly, letting his gaze wander around the enormous hall that was filled with people from all kinds of backgrounds and statuses. “Your palace is quite impressive, I feel honored to stay here,” He lowered his gaze to show his gratitude.

Jimin was well mannered - and so beautiful that he felt the desire running down his spine, hot and tingling. However it wouldn’t be appropriate to make the prince’s gift join his bed the very first night he had gotten him. He had someone else for that. He excused Jimin with a nod for the younger to enjoy the feast and maybe eat something (he looked a bit on the skinny side) and then scanned the crowd for Jungkook. Normally the younger was always within sight. Not now though. Namjoon furrowed his brows and waved one of the maids over to get him a drink and then go search for Jungkook. It made him nervous to not have the other close.

Jungkook closed the door behind him again when he had finished preparing the room for the dancer. For a moment, he thought about just going back to his room and call it a day, but knowing the king, he would definitely pay for not staying all night for his birthday, so he quickly turned around and walked down the hallway. He was almost running, not really looking where he was going and only starting to slow down when the music of the orchestra was audible again. Walking back inside the main hall, Jungkook put his professional smile back on, as he greeted a few guests, bowing deeply. Unfortunately, he had been doing it while walking backwards at the same time, not wanting to displease anyone coming his way, so what he couldn’t see was that someone was standing right behind him as he bumped into him only seconds after. His ass met that someone’s crotch area and Jungkook squealed, turning around quickly.

“My apologies,” He stammered quickly, his eyes widening when he saw who it was - the prince. Of course it must be him. 

Jungkook cursed himself in his mind, before his gaze fell onto the red wine stain, that was now decorating the prince’s white, golden shirt. “I will personally make sure to clean your shirt, Sir. I am so sorry,” Jungkook’s cheeks flushed red but to his surprise, Hoseok only laughed, waving the younger one off. “Next time just tell me your name first, before you lean down in front of me.” The prince chuckled and Jungkook couldn’t help but turn as red as if someone had poured a bucket of red paint over his face. The prince was amused, pinching the younger one’s cheeks as he looked him up and down, sending a shiver down the boy’s back. But before Jungkook could mumble something about apologies again, the prince simply caught his wrist, making him stunned and freeze in his movements completely. “How about a dance as an apology?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow, loosening his grip as he took Jungkook’s hand in his, “We have something to celebrate after all, don’t we?”

Jungkook got pulled onto the dance floor so harshly that he almost stumbled, before he could feel the arms of the prince holding him close and safe. One arm wrapped around his narrow waist and Jungkook gulped, while Hoseok’s eyes were piercing right through him. “Prince Hoseok, I am not one of status. I don’t think…”

“I don’t care,” Hoseok interrupted him and easily started dancing, leaving Jungkook no choice but to follow the rhythm. The young boy had no idea, how the situation had turned so quickly, but he had to admit that he was starting to like it. Prince Hoseok was always known as a great dancer and it was fun to let him lead and waltz through the room. He couldn’t help but giggle, biting his lip quickly to keep from smiling, when he noticed the stares of the staff and people around. So, Jungkook quickly kept his head down, hoping that not to many people recognized him as the one who was dancing with the prince right now.

Hoseok liked the way Jungkook was reacting. It was always good to be in contact with the people closest to your enemies, for obvious reasons and Jungkook was making it so easy for him that he wondered if the younger was really so naiv - or just really starved for attention. He decided to find out a little more about him and leaned in closely, not really because it was necessary but because he liked how easily Jungkook got flustered. “How old are you, pretty?” He gave him an appreciating smile, letting him know that he actually meant that little nickname. To be honest - something he wasn’t that often - the younger was as pretty as a doll. He wondered if Namjoon slept with him. If yes, Jungkook was just the right person to be nice to.

“I…I am twenty-two,” Jungkook stammered quietly, happy that the music slowed down a little more. It was easier to talk like this. “My Birthday will be soon though. I hope I can have a day off then, I would love to go for a horseback ride with a close friend of mine,” Jungkook said, blushing slightly. It wasn’t his place to talk this much but somehow, he had felt like it was okay to tell Prince Hoseok about it. He was smiling at him, seeming so interested in his thoughts that it made Jungkook just want to keep talking. “But I need to ask for permission first,” He sighed, shrugging his shoulders a little, shifting a little closer to Hoseok who had tightened his hold around the younger one’s waist.

Twenty two. So he was quite young. It was easier to get Jungkook out of his shell than he had thought and so he gently kept pushing to get to know him more. While they talked he let his gaze wander over Jungkook‘s features. There was a little scar above his cheekbone and he wondered if it was from punishment Namjoon had given him. He would have loved to see Jungkook‘s whole body for two reasons; one because if Jungkook had more scars it meant that Namjoon‘s punishments were cruel and Jungkook would easily fall for some kindness - and second simply because he wanted to see the other naked to know if he was just as beautiful under his clothes as he was from what he saw now. Hoseok gave himself a look that he thought would seem concerned before toning down his voice a little, trying to look as honest as possible. 

„Does Namjoon treat you nicely?“ When Jungkook hesitated for a second he added, “It‘s just – I‘ll leave Jimin in his care so of course I worry a little. I care for all of my people and I don‘t want him to get hurt, you know? So if you please could be honest with me, I‘d appreciate it tremendously. I promise I won‘t tell anyone that you said anything. I just... want to be sure that what I did wasn‘t a mistake – for Jimin. He might not look like it with all his confidence and the way he is dancing so easily but he is actually very soft and kindhearted and can be quite shy. I don‘t want the king to take advantage of that. Did he take advantage of you?“

Jungkook shook his head, taking a second before he spoke. “I shouldn’t speak about the desires of my king, but I can ensure you that he didn’t take advantage of me.” He paused for a second, his eyes locking with Hoseok’s. “He is the king after all, but he never hurt me or anyone else on purpose. I am his personal maid, Sir. It is my purpose and my desire to please him.” Jungkook said the words as if he had learned them by heart. But it was true. Namjoon never did hurt him on purpose, but it was also true that the king wasn’t one for soft sex at all. Jungkook had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. He didn’t mind it at all, as he always had the pleasure of the king’s soft caresses afterwards. 

Sometimes, Namjoon just called him over to make the younger lay there. Naked and in all his youthful glory so the king could trail his fingers all over his skin. Jungkook never dared to say a word in those moments, not wanting to ruin the intimate moments, when Namjoon let him see a more softer part of him. The one part that was yearning for quiet and someone close. Other times, the king was just merciless, all worked up and angry. It happened before that Jungkook simply had been sorting out the king’s clothes, when Namjoon came in took him by his throat and pushed him up a wall to fuck him right there. Or when he called for Jungkook, bending him over the table where they had a important discussion prior. The papers were still strewn all over the table, lying beneath him and he had to be careful not to rip them while Namjoon was fucking into him hard. Jungkook was always there for Namjoon. Had always meant to serve him. And even though the king had several lovers, it was always Jungkook he came back to. 

Jungkook put a smile on his face, bowing down deeply when the music had faded out. Suddenly the urge to find the king was aching inside of him...

“You don’t have to worry about Jimin at all. Namjoon is a wonderful...king,” Jungkook said, looking down where Hoseok was still holding onto his hand. They stood in the middle of the dance floor and Jungkook was sure that Namjoon was around. If there was one thing that the king didn’t like was someone else playing with his belongings. And though nothing had happened, Jungkook should have asked for permission first. He could only hope that Namjoon would understand if he told him that Hoseok had wanted an apology for spilling his drink on him. He didn’t want to anger the king on his birthday.

Namjoon was already waiting for him when Jungkook came back, looking at him cooly. “Where were you, Jungkook?” Of course he had seen it. All of it. How Hoseok had started talking to him and how flustered the younger had gotten. Jungkook should have been indifferent or bored or even impolite for all he cared but looking like he was enjoying himself and then dancing with the prince? Namjoon was furious. He wanted to know how Jungkook would react and if he might even lie to him - he didn’t know what would be worse, Jungkook naively telling him everything because he didn’t even think about what he was doing or lying to him. Though at least it would give Namjoon a reason to punish him for it and make sure Jungkook would never dance with Hoseok again.

“I apologize. I was dancing,” Jungkook confessed right away, his cheeks blushing as he got over to Namjoon’s left side. This is where he always stood. A few steps away to not give the expression of Jungkook being of higher status, not that his clothes didn’t give away enough already that he was only a valet. “I ruined the prince’s shirt by spilling some wine and as an apology he asked for a dance. I should have asked for permission first, but you were occupied my king,” Jungkook only looked up at Namjoon when he said the last words, hoping he would understand. “It’s your birthday after all, shouldn’t we celebrate?” He smiled at him, trying to lighten the mood.

“Don’t get cheeky with me. You can’t just skip protocol because you feel like it!” He should be thankful that Jungkook was telling him the truth right away but instead he was still angry. Jungkook was his, goddammit! He was supposed to be his only and he hated it if someone else showed interest in the younger.  “Yes, it’s my birthday - and I want to enjoy it properly. You should get me a gift, Jungkookie. Did you get me something? You didn’t, right?” Now he was downright teasing him, a mean little smile on his lips because he knew Jungkook didn’t even have the money to buy him something that would be deemed worthy of being a gift for the king.

Jungkook bit his lip right away, averting his gaze down to the floor. It was so easy for Namjoon to play with him and Jungkook wished he had the guts to talk back sometimes but at the same time he knew it would only backfire. So, he kept his head down, cheeks flushed while he apologized once more. “I won’t dance without your permission again, my king,” He said and bowed lightly, “Do you need me to wait for you in your private rooms?” His heart skipped a beat, as he gulped against the lump in his throat. The only gift Jungkook had was himself. He was the king’s property, his to play with and his birthday present if he was wishing for it.

“Yes.” Namjoon smiled, enjoying how easily Jungkook picked up on what he wanted him to do for him. But it had always been Jungkook’s strong suit, to know what others needed or wanted. And in Namjoon’s case he catered to it willingly. And Namjoon loved it. He loved the feeling of Jungkook’s body going plaint against his or the way he let him dominate their kisses. Jungkook was always there for him, always had been for literally as long he could remember and to know that he would be with him forever was the most comforting and heartwarming thing he could think of.

Jungkook nodded, keeping his gaze low as he turned on his heel and away from the crowded hall. His steps echoed through the empty hallway while he made his way towards the king’s bedroom. Jungkook couldn’t count how many times he had walked the same path. Even when he was a little boy, he had run up the stairwell, knocking at the young king’s door to ask him to play outside. Back then he had no idea what his role would be, that he had been always destined to serve Namjoon. Opening the heavy door, Jungkook shivered a little, letting his gaze wander over the luxurious room. It was almost a routine, how he fired up the fireplace to keep it warm, closed the curtains right after before he fluffed up the blankets of the bed. Taking off his shoes, Jungkook slowly began to undress.

Jungkook’s routine gave Namjoon the time to wrap things up; he couldn’t just vanish without telling anyone but he was bored by the feast already. So he excused himself the official way, thanking everyone that he was supposed to thank turning it into one of those semi-official royal acts he did all the time, officially expressing his gratitude, reassuring some of his friendship, not-quite-pledging his loyalty to the noblemen and - women who brought him gifts or had sworn an oath for him - or were just one of those families who had been close to the royal family for age. His guests didn’t really mind his absence, in fact it might even have a relaxing effect to know that the king wasn’t watching and mistakes could potentially seen as weaknesses. When he could finally leave the great hall Namjoon was buzzing with restless energy. Energy he wanted to take out on Jungkook.

Jungkook had put on a robe to still keep himself wrapped up enough for Namjoon to take off again. But the king never liked too much clothing and Jungkook really didn’t want to get his new outfit ripped. It had been very expensive and was made for special occasions – like today. He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently until he could hear the door open. His heart was beating fast and even though Jungkook had tried to keep calm, he had jerked a little when Namjoon came in.

“ Ah, I see you’re all ready for me.” Namjoon let his gaze wander over everything Jungkook had prepared and then nodded appreciatively. “Well done, Kook.” He only ever called him cute nicknames behind closed doors because no matter how long they knew each other or how close they were it wasn’t really appropriate to do that. Namjoon came close and stood right besides Jungkook, ruffling his hair a little. What had started as a cute gesture turned quickly into something more when he dug his fingers softly into Jungkook’s hair, getting a good grip before pulling the others head back a little. “Oh my, look at that beautiful mouth of yours. It would be a shame if we didn’t get to use that tonight, wouldn’t it?” He whispered against him.

Jungkook didn’t even gasp when Namjoon pulled his head back like that, only looking up at him with big eyes. He licked over his lips slowly, feeling the grip in his hair loosen as he let himself slip from the edge of the bed and get on his knees on the floor. Namjoon motioned for him to get rid of the robe and Jungkook complied, dwelling in the attention of the king’s gaze on his body. He had pulled of his own dress shirt so easily that it had left Jungkook speechless until he stood right in front of him. Jungkook looked up at him, his face flushed, lips pursed as he let his hands wander up his thighs. He easily pulled down the pants enough for Namjoon’s cock to be freed. The younger one bit his lip, blinking his eyes sweetly when he gripped him firmly, moving his hand up and down a few times. A grip in his hair made Jungkook move closer, taking the tip of the king’s dick into his mouth. He gave it a few licks and wrapped his hand tightly around the rest of his cock, starting to move his hand rhythmically while he was licking slowly, sucking the tip and holding the king’s gaze.

“Yeah, like this!” Namjoon buried his fingers in Jungkook’s hair again, massaging the boy’s scalp while also pushing him forward. Jungkook was immensely good at this. Maybe it was the practice he had or maybe it was just his will to please the king. Either way Namjoon always lost himself in pleasure when Jungkook was on his knees for him. When the younger had teased him enough he placed his hand in Jungkook’s neck and pushed him closer, feeling his cock sliding deeper into the boys warm, wet mouth and down his throat. Jungkook didn’t even gag, he was used to it. He closed his eyes when he started to fuck Jungkook’s throat in earnest. knowing that Jungkook probably did the same because no matter how much control he had about his gag reflex his eyes still teared up sometimes. “Can’t think about Hoseok when you’ve got my dick down your throat now,” He was breathless, moaning, not sure Jungkook even understood him but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Jungkook was here and he was his to do with as he pleased. His favourite little toy.

Jungkook couldn’t help but let Namjoon take whatever he needed, breathing through his nose all while he was looking up at him. He could feel himself harden from the tension, the pleasure that Namjoon evoked in him every time. Tears were starting to form in his eyes from the feeling, but it was too pleasing to quit and Jungkook only sank lower onto him. He shut his eyes for a moment, took a few deep breaths through his nose and then swallowed down, making Namjoon buck his hips into Jungkook’s mouth, moaning even louder, cursing and praising Jungkook. When he finally let go off him, the younger one was panting but he didn’t dare to wipe over his mouth. He rather gazed up again, showing off the dirty view that he was presenting. “I only serve you, my king,” Jungkook spoke, his voice sounding a little rough. He moved closer again, taking Namjoon’s dick in his hand and jerking him off slowly, while his tongue was licking over his length, moving down to his balls, where he sucked on them deliciously. Jungkook was sure that Namjoon wanted more than just a blowjob tonight. So it surprised him when Namjoon asked him to take him back in. 

“I want to come in your mouth.”  He stated, wiping over Jungkook’s face where the younger had gotten his cheek dirty. He was strung tight and was aching for relief, otherwise he might have enjoyed to fuck Jungkook hard enough for the younger to still feel it tomorrow so that he would remember he was his. There was too much exhaustion in his veins though; it had be a long day and everything he wanted was to come in Jungkook’s beautiful mouth and then pull the younger into bed with him to fall asleep next to him with his face buried in Jungkook’s hair and the youngers head close to his chest where he could feel the warm breath on his skin and Jungkook’s heartbeat close to his own.

He took him back in eagerly, doing exactly what Namjoon told him. He wondered why Namjoon wouldn’t want more tonight, when suddenly it hit him. Jimin. The dancer. Jungkook let out a small whine, taking the king’s cock in deeper, sucking on him harshly and doing exactly what he knew would drive him crazy. He didn’t care if it was just his own jealousy which was playing tricks on his mind, or if Namjoon had taken a deeper interest in the dancer. He didn’t know and maybe he didn’t want to know. Jungkook moaned sweetly, sucking on the tip deliciously while he was batting his eyelashes at Namjoon. Then he took him deeper again, swallowing around him repeatedly, showing the king why he was his favorite to play with.

“Jungkook...fuck!” He had no chance to draw this out with Jungkook going for it like that so he let the pleasure wash over him, trail down his spine and pool in his gut where it intensified with each swipe of the younger’s tongue. He came harsh and without warning down Jungkook’s throat, keeping the youngers head in place so he couldn’t pull away. Jungkook swallowed all of it like the good servant he was, only gasping for breath after when Namjoon pulled out of his mouth. 

“Damn you were really eager tonight, weren’t you? I’ll go use the bathroom and then you can clean yourself up before going to bed. It was a long day and it’ll be just as exhausting tomorrow with Hoseok around. I’ll make three crosses when he finally went back to his own kingdom again.”

Jungkook only nodded, watching Namjoon attentively when he turned around. He couldn’t keep from staring at his strong thighs, his broad shoulders and arms. In Jungkook’s eyes, Namjoon surely was sculpted by the gods themselves. Biting his lip, he looked down, groaning when he saw his own hard-on that he had to take care of. He took the robe, tying it around his waist tightly. 

When Jungkook had cleaned himself up as well, he simply followed Namjoon into his bed, losing the silk robe at the edge. He laid down beside the king, who had his back turned towards him. He let his hands caressing over the strong muscles shoulders as he massaged over the soft skin. Leaving a few soft kisses there, he pushed a little deeper, feeling how tense Namjoon was. Jungkook shifted closer when the king turned around, easily fitting into his embrace – just like they always did. His head on his chest, while he was mindlessly tracing the lines of Namjoon’s abs. 

“You’re way more powerful than him. He knows that, he’s only afraid of you,” Jungkook said quietly, gazing up at his king, “You can send Taehyung to keep him occupied maybe? If he would draw him then you at least have a few hours of silence, while Prince Hoseok can’t move.” He giggled softly, pulling himself closer to the warmth that Namjoon was providing.

“Of course I’m more powerful than him. How can you think I would ever doubt that? Stop stating the obvious!” He was irritated - even more so that Jungkook must have picked up on his thoughts about Hoseok. Still it was pretty cocky of the younger to even address that matter. It was a good thing he liked having Jungkook besides him in bed, especially when the younger was working his magic hands on his body or else he might have thrown Jungkook out of bed. 

“No, he doesn’t deserve Taehyung. It was quite nice of him to apologize - and lending me Jimin is a generous gift that I would have never expected of him. But he’s still the hot blooded over-emotional, dramatic idiot that challenged my guards and threw fruits at a servant once and who manages to get drunk every once in awhile to embarrass himself and his dad and me in process. I won’t send him Taehyung. And you shouldn’t tell me what to do Jungkook. It’s the other way round, remember?”

Jungkook blushed, quickly putting his hand under his cheek so Namjoon didn’t feel the heat radiating from him in embarrassment. “I apologize,” He said quietly, gazing up at the king. Sometimes he just couldn’t help it to not say something. He just wanted Namjoon to feel good, to feel powerful and to know that he was the best man to rule this country. Nonetheless Jungkook had to bite his lip, thinking that even though Hoseok had showed the worst parts of him in the past that maybe he could change. He didn’t seem like the reckless prince tonight. He was actually kind towards him, even though Jungkook had no status at all. It left him wondering about the prince, his heart beating faster when he caught himself thinking about Hoseok’s smile and the way he had lead him over the dance floor. It was almost as if they had been flying. The prince had seemed so carefree, far from the person he used to be and for a moment Jungkook could forget that he was only a valet.

A/N: Tadah! What? Another story? Yes! But this one will only have about five chapters and will be updated every two weeks! So get ready for it! I hope you will like this! And I hope you read the disclaimers before hand! Leave us a comment on what you think will happen next ;)

Subscribed: @jeonsdear @taeofcups @awjiminie @jungkpop @violentredroses @bluekyuprincess @wise-bts-collector @nochuukookie @mintynicotine @yesiamhangry @dancelinestan @taeofcups @p-ixelite  @lissachan504 @h-e-l-p-m-e-p-l-e-a-s-e @hisheartsmile @violetrose120

↳ If you want to be tagged in new updates you can now sign up in my subscription list for being tagged in my works here

#networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #namnetsedits #kwordsmiths #btssmutclub #bangtan-bookclub #ggukienet #thebtstown #namjoon #king namjoon #ot7 #jungkook #namkook #minjoon #namgi #junghope #jimin #yoongi #hoseok #jin #taehyung #royal au #king au #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #namkook fanfic #angst #smut #/mywriting

[winterwriter8845]

The Maid and the Assassin

Chapter 7: The Morning After

Warning: There is abuse in this chapter

Clara's POV

I woke up with a warm body next to me. I smiled as I looked over to see it was Jacob. I leaned over and gently kissed his cheek before getting up. I looked over at the nightstand to see some headache medicine and water in a flask. I took the medicine and used the rest of the water to freshen up. I felt the train lurch to a stop, and I grabbed onto the desk.

I heard a chuckle. "It takes a bit to get used to... you know when the train stops." Jacob sat up, a smile on his perfect lips. "It means we've arrived at the station."

I chuckled. "I'm just not used to being on trains. I'm rarely in a carriage either." I walked over and sat down on the bed next to him. "I don't want to go back..." I sighed.

He looked over at me before leaning over and kissing my shoulder. "I know, love, but the Queen and her staff will be wondering where you've gone off to."

I smiled. "I'll be fine." I stood up, fixing my dress as it had been shifted when I was asleep. Once my dress was fixed, I grabbed my shawl and wrapped it around my shoulders. Jacob smiled as he slipped on his coat and top hat. He took my hand and led me out to the running board. Once the train had completely stopped, he got off first and then held his hand out to me. I took it, and he helped me down onto the platform. My boots clicked against the stone platform.

There weren't too many people in the train station, but the streets were busy with carriages and pedestrians. Jacob looked over at me and smiled. "I'll escort you to the gates."

I smiled and nodded. He linked his arm around mine and started to escort me from the station. We reached the curb, and he stopped me. "Would you like to walk or take a carriage?"

I bit my lip, thinking. "Hmm. Let's walk. It's rather nice out."

He nodded. "As you wish." He started to lead me down the street. It was only about an eleven-minute walk. "Do you always write?" He asked out of the blue, probably seeing my journal poking out of my pocket.

"Um, yes. I have a passion for writing. Ever since my mother took me to Charles Dickens when I was a little girl, I've always written down everything. He was my inspiration to start writing."

"Charles... is an interesting person..." He chuckled. "I met him when I first arrived in London... he and I kind of ran into each other." He smiled.

"Let me guess, he wasn't paying attention."

"Yep."

I laughed. "He tends to do that."

We reached a warehouse, and he stopped me with his hand against my stomach. "Wait." He guided me to the corner of a building. He peaked his head around the corner. "Blighters. If they see me, they'll attack me. And I don't want you to be hurt." He sighed, looking down. "This is where I see you off then. Miss Clara, I had a splendid time last night, and I hope we can do it again." He kissed my hand.

I leaned up and kissed him on the lips. "Yes, I hope we can. I'll write to you."

He kissed me back and smiled. "I look forward to your letters, Miss Clara."

I smiled and nodded. "Well, I best be off." I walked away, but he grabbed me and pulled me back. He pinned me to the wall and kissed me. He held my hands above my head and kissed me longingly. I let out a little moan as his tongue wrestled with mine. His hand cupped my cheeks, pulling my face closer.

He pulled away, his cheeks a bright red. He smiled. "I'm sorry... I couldn't help myself..."

I smiled, kissing him again. "It's okay. It's fine really. I enjoyed it." I kissed him again longingly, my tongue rimming the curve of his bottom lip. After a few moments, I pulled away. "I-I think... I think I need to go now..." I said in a daze.

He chuckled, nodding. I walked away, my cheeks flushed with red. I walked down the street, trying to gather my thoughts. I reached the palace, and the guards let me in. I walked to my room and opened the door to see Mrs. MacLaine, my boss. She was the head of the maids.

"Where have you been?" She asked. She had a stern look on her face.

"I was out..." I sighed.

"Tell me exactly where you were, and I reconsider the punishment." She snapped.

"I was on a date last night, and I ended up falling asleep at the man's house." I looked down at the wood paneling of the floor.

"Ah, you weren't here doing your duties as usual."

"As usual? What do you mean? I've been here since I was sixteen years old, and I'm the most responsible maid."

She scoffed. "I can think of some other maids that are more responsible."

I didn't say anything for a minute, afraid I'll be punished for saying anything. "Why are you really here?"

"You know what happens when you don't return or act irresponsibly." She sighed. "You know I don't like doing this, but it has to be done for you to learn your lesson."

I held my tongue. I didn't want to say anything that I regretted. I just did what had to be done. I walked with her out to the shed outside where a whipping post stood in the small shed. A butler was there. He was a little bit older than me. We had never spoken to each other, but he had a look that said 'I'm sorry.'

He looked at me. "I'm sorry, miss..." He whispered as I walked past him to the post. I walked over, and MacLaine pulled the back of my dress down to expose my back. My back was already laced with scars from a previous whipping when I was in my younger maid days.

The butler started to whip my back. The first whip is always the worst as you can feel it. Then eventually, your back starts to go numb, and you don't feel it as much. I stood there, tears running down my face as I held onto the post. After ten lashings, I was released. Maria came in after MacLaine and the butler had left.

Maria started to clean my back up and clean the blood off. She bandaged my back and helped me slip my dress up. "I'm sorry, Clara..." She whispered.

"Is this even legal?" I whimpered.

"I have no idea..." She sighed. She helped me back to our room, and I crawled into bed. My back was still numb as I fell asleep, only thinking about how I wanted to be with Jacob.

________________________

I'm so sorry that this is a crappy chapter. I've been on hiatus as I haven't had the motivation to write.

#clara kensington #jacob frye #jacob frye x oc #jacob x clara #Assassin's Creed #ac syndicate #assassin's creed syndicate #acs #the maid and the assassin #fanfiction #my writing #writers on tumblr

[wanna-one-imagine]

Wanna One Kang Daniel Prince! AU (Part 4)

And here we go, the last part of the Prince AU! Get ready for a wall of text, this is about 50% longer than the other parts (oops). Anyway, this has been such a fun series to write. You can find links to other parts here: 1, 2, 3. Enjoy! (You + Kang Daniel)

“(Y/N), do you like me?”

oh my god no nO NO non non ono noono nO NO NO what do i s ay oh myg od

“Uh, no I don’t, weirdo,” you nervously laughed, backing away from him, turning your face away from him so he couldn’t see the blush that was running to your cheeks

Daniel stood up, eyes curving playfully, his gaze boring into you

“Hmmm... I heard everything, though, (Y/N),” he walked closer and closer to you, you carefully backing up in response

What the hell does he think he’s doing right now oh my god

“What did you hear? You must be hearing things, I never said that I like you, you should get your ears checked out,” you replied, unable to meet his strong gaze

“There are different ways to say you like someone... and I heard,” Daniel began, poking your cheek, “someone here saying they wouldn’t mind marrying me... at all,” he finished, smirking

Suddenly, you had a sudden rush of confidence, standing up straight and looking Daniel right in the eye

“Well, last time I checked, “wouldn’t mind” doesn’t mean the same thing as “want to”, in fact all it means that I’m completely neutral about marrying you mister,” you replied, wiggling your eyebrows at him, walking right past him to take a seat on the bed

You were too focused on stopPING YOUR OWN HEART from exploding out of your chest to notice Daniel’s quiet “oh” in response to your comeback

And Daniel was having problems of his own: for some reason, he was... disappointed by your response

Suddenly, he didn’t want to talk with you anymore or finish his homework/lesson with you, and silently walked to his own end of the bed, climbing under the comforter, resting his head on the pillow to face away from you

He honestly felt like punching something or slamming his body against the bed but willed himself to complete stillness, not wanting to communicate his feelings to you in any way

He didn’t realize how excited and happy and built up he had gotten when you had whispered to him, thinking he was asleep

And now he knew he shouldn’t be mad, but here he was, unable to talk to you for some reason

You were shaken up as well, on the opposite side of the bed, and climbed in without a word, confused as to why Daniel had suddenly stopped talking to you... was he angry?

You laid down there, unable to fall asleep for some reason sometimes sneaking glances at Daniel’s huge curled up body

You fell into sleep, emptily staring at him from afar, confused about what was happening

Daniel, on the other hand, was unable to rest and forget about the night’s previous events

He tossed and turned in the dimly-lit room, sometimes facing you, looking at your sleeping face

Why am I feeling like this... 

He silently raged at himself, never having felt this way before, before one clear and frightening thought entered his mind

I wanted her to like me.

That was it. That’s the entire explanation, and he still struggled to understand why he wanted that

Daniel fell asleep out of exhaustion, his last thoughts before he drifted off being a complete mess

zzzz good night you two

The next morning, you groggily opened your eyes, only to find yourself face to face with Daniel’s shirt

It took a couple seconds for you to process the position you were in: all snuggled up in Daniel’s chest, his arms holding you against him

oh my gOD WHAT HE WHAT IS HE DOING HOW DID THIS HAPPEN

You two slept in the same bed literally every night, and this had never once happened in all that time

Keep in mind the bed is huge, and you two are all the way shifted to one side, leaving the other side completely empty

Nevertheless, you couldn’t will yourself to move out of Daniel’s grasp, you wanting to stay in this position... for as long as possible

You didn’t make a move, and closed your eyes again

In your logic, you two were on your side of the bed, so whatever happened wasn’t because of you, so you just went with it

You had no idea that Daniel was also awake and pretending to be asleep LOL

He was equally shocked when he woke up; he had no idea how he ended up in this position over the night, but he found himself enjoying the feeling of your body warming him up

He hoped you wouldn’t feel his heart racing, your face right on his chest

And the both of you just laid there, trying to keep yourselves perfectly still, secretly appreciating the other’s presence as much as possible

Y’all dumb af lol

You two would have just laid there forever until you turned into corpses, if not for the intercom interrupting your peaceful silence

“Prince Kang, Miss (Y/L/N), please wash up and join the family for Lunch at noon.”

that dAMN security system... the Queen and King are probably watching us like we’re characters in a movie, deciding to “wake you up” now

You both twitched in shock from the noise, sitting up in the bed, eyes finally meeting one another (and you two were both pretty much wide awake by now lol)

“Oh- um hey,” Daniel greeted you, the first words he had spoken to you since last night

You cleared your throat, “hey, good morning”

It wasn’t every day you saw Daniel at a loss for words – he was quiet and you two just looked at each other before getting up, mutually agreeing to pretend like last night and this morning never happened...

...or so you thought.

You were on your way out of his room, mumbling that you would go wash up first, when you heard Daniel’s voice call out from behind you

“(Y/N).”

You stopped, and turned around, to come face to face with Daniel – when had he gotten so close?

You looked at him, not having time to say anything, when his bunny teeth poked out from between his lips

“You like me. You totally do.”

wait. what? where was this coming from...

This time, you had nothing to say to Daniel, and just blankly stared at him, waiting for an explanation

Daniel smugly smirked at you, before continuing

“Maybe you don’t realize it, but you totally like me, I just get this vibe from you,”

“What are you babbling, get ahold of yourself man” you said, kicking his leg and running away

You didn’t know what Daniel was trying to pull here, and honestly he wasn’t sure himself

He just wanted not to be awkward with you, and for things to go back to normal – and that meant teasing you, even if it was over something that wasn’t... confirmed

And maybe, he was hoping to himself that it was true, and telling you that you liked him made him take his mind off the fact that there was a possibility you didn’t, serving as a source of comfort for him

Over the next couple weeks, you could count on Daniel to catch literally any small action you did and turn it into a “you like me” thing

Every night he would set up a pillow barrier between you two, claiming that other night that you jumped him and he was trying to “protect” his “purity”

Even if your hand slightly touched him for one reason or another, he would get all on your case about that

“OH I CAUGHT YOU!!!” or “What can I do, I’m so charming, even you couldn’t resist me”

Sometimes he’d purposely set you up, asking if you wanted some of his drink, and when you agreed he’d tease you for sharing a drink with him

Most of the time you were just too done to respond to him, only managing an eye roll or glare

Ong and Jaehwan saw all of this happen, and would give Daniel the "really bro” look every time (just to go unnoticed by him)

To them, it was obvious that all this teasing was just a sign that he had a huge crush on you (which they had picked up a while ago)

They’d whisper about Daniel right in front of him lmao

“Daniel is good looking, but really bad at dating”

“I have no idea what he’s doing”

“What a freak”

“It’s funny how he claims (Y/N) likes him over the dumbest things but he can’t realize he likes her over the same teasing he does to her”

“That’s dumb Daniel for ya”

Daniel was really like a little kid, unable to figure himself out

He was the type to tell someone directly when he liked them, but he hadn’t seemed to have figured out his feelings for you... weirdo

So you were stuck with all this teasing, but you were in too deep in your own feelings for him that you didn’t even care at this point LOL

Everything was stuck in this strange limbo between friendship and dating until one day, when you were to take a multi-day trip to attend a competition for one of the clubs you were in at school

And of course, Daniel made this big deal about you going to miss him

“If you get too sad while I’m not there with you, feel free to call me or anything (Y/N), I’ll make sure my phone is always turned on for you, I wouldn’t want you to be sad on your trip,” he teased, poking your cheeks (he tended to do that a lot lol)

The line between joking and serious was completely blurred at this point, and for the time being you didn’t make an effort to clear it

“Sure thing, fella, I could say the same to you,”

You went on your trip, and on your end it was for the most part uneventful

After all, you were already self-aware of your emotions for him, and you had already come to terms with missing him for a few days

but the case wAS DIFFERENT FOR MR. KANG HERE

He had laughed at his own jokes over sending you off, but once you had left, he was an absolute mess

That afternoon at the coffeeshop, Daniel barely spoke a word to Ong and Jaehwan, and kept checking his phone and putting it back in his pocket over and over again

After a while, Daniel couldn’t take it anymore, and told Ong and Jaehwan that he had to leave

"I think I’m feeling sick, I have no idea why, my head hurts for some reason, I’m going to go home early today guys”

Jaehwan and Ong already knew that if they told Daniel he liked you, he would just deny it and tell them they were crazy

This one, he had to figure out on his own

Daniel couldn’t focus at all; when he arrived back at the palace, he had no idea what to do

For some reason, he couldn’t remember what he used to do after school before you lived with him

He tried playing computer games and eating food but couldn’t stop checking his phone

“She definitely misses me, why isn’t she texting?”

He even checked his temperature, trying to find the cause of the weird feeling that was taking over his body

He flopped on his bed, staring at his phone and flailing his limbs around because he’s strange

Daniel found himself mindlessly tapping his phone to almost call you multiple times before catching himself and stopping

But on one attempt, he failed to stop himself and the call went through, unbeknownst to him LOL

“Hello?” Your voice called out from the other line

wa w ahat (Y/N) how is she here what why is she on the call

He quickly came to the wrong conclusion, that you had finally called him, quickly getting cocky again

“Ah, (Y/N), looks like you finally caved in and called me, I know you couldn’t resist, you totally missed me, but what can I expect if you like me so much,” he cackled out

You were, obviously, extremely confused as to what was happening

“Daniel? I didn’t call you though,” you replied

“Yes you obviously did, Miss (Y/N)”

“Daniel. Literally check your phone, you’re the one who called me, if anything, according to your own logic, this means you are the one who misses me and you like me, idiot”

wait, what? Daniel checked his phone log, the outreaching arrow indicating that he was the one who had started the call, his eyes nearly popping out of his head when he saw the symbol

He sat there in silence, shocked, still on the call

“Daniel? Are you still there?” your voice reclaimed his attention

“yeah,” he responded, shocking you – in that one word, you heard softness and vulnerability

“Uh- are you okay? Did something happen?”

Without thinking, Daniel finally let loose the words that had been sitting on the tip of his tongue for so long, shocking the both of you

“I think I like you, (Y/N).”

“What?”

Everything was becoming clear to Daniel – how had I not figured this out earlier? You’re literally such a fool, he thought, scolding himself

More confidently this time, he repeated himself

“(Y/N). I definitely like you. I miss you too.”

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this is happening now, Daniel I’m literally on a bus right now,” you quietly laughed into the phone, hoping the sounds of the bus were too loud for others to hear your conversation

Hearing your laugh made Daniel’s heart literally flutter, his feet kicking his bed in happiness

Everything was finally making sense, and that was in itself comforting

“Sorry I didn’t tell you before, (Y/N), I literally just figured it out. Like 30 seconds ago,” he giggled back at you

“You’re so dumb; this whole time you were the one making fun of me and telling me that I was the one who liked you, you fool”

“Well, I mean, you do, right? Like me?”

“No, I don’t, and now I’m going to tease you about liking me for months!” (you couldn’t hold back at this momentary revenge on him)

But Daniel felt his heart drop at your answer

“Wait, you don’t? But- but you always stare at me and joke with me and we’re just perfect together you have to like me!” Daniel cutely protested, and you completely gave in – you were a total sucker for him

“I’ve literally liked you since that holiday party months ago, don’t even I’ve deadass been waiting for a sign from you since forever” you replied, unintentionally confessing more than you had intended

“Wait what? Since the party? Oh my god, you’re SO into me, and I’m never going to forget it”

“Ugh I’m hanging up, I can’t believe I told you that,” you said angrily, but Daniel heard the smile in your voice

“Okay, we can continue this juicy information session later then, dumbo”

“I’M LEAVING BYE”

“Bye sweetheart”

“...never call me that again or I will end you”

“I thought you were leaving? Can’t seem to end the call with me? You really are in too deep girl”

“Shut up I’m going now” you hastily hung up

And the both of you just sat in your respective locations, with huge grins covering your faces

Not once could you two have a prolonged nice moment without turning to harass the other... but nevertheless, it felt so right

For the next couple days of that trip, you two called each other every night, but throughout the day solely communicated through those sticker emojis on the text message app (wtf)

When you returned to the palace after what seemed like the longest 4 days of both of your lives, Daniel was the first one to greet you, opening the doors of the palace himself, urging the servants to let him do it himself

You began to greet Daniel with a simple “hey”, but he immediately smothered you in a tight hug, making the servants giggle in shyness behind him

“Dan- dude I can’t breathe” you mustered out, your face smushed against his chest

All he did was laugh in response and drag you to his room, quickly closing the door behind him and holding you still in front of him, his hands cupping your shoulders

He looked like a complete puppy, happy and shy and excited at the same time

He still hadn’t said anything, and was still laughing, breathing heavily at the shameless running the both of you had just done

And just like that, you felt his lips on your forehead, there one second and gone the next

“Oh my gosh, that felt as good as I imagined,” he breathed out, sTILL LAUGHING LIKE HE WON’T STOP LAUGHING

You could only look at him, taken completely by surprise, rapidly blinking due to the closeness between the two of you

“Can I do it again?” Daniel asked, finally getting a hold of himself

“Like you asked the first time,” you muttered, feeling your heart dance as he wrapped a hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him

“Good point. Sorry about that. Can I do it again though?” he cockily asked

You snatched up some confidence you didn’t know you had, and pecked his lips in response, making the both of you pink

“Um- I couldn’t reach your forehead,” you sheepishly explained, leaving Daniel the one in shock this time

“Oh, sorry, I should’ve asked,” you apologized to Daniel, confused at what he was silently thinking

“No. It’s fine.” he rasped back at you, his eyes changing to something more... intense, before nodding at himself and simply embracing you in a hug, patting your hair with one of his hands

“I’m glad you’re back,” he mumbled into the top of your head

“I was only gone for a couple days, Dan”

“Still cmon you missed me too,” he prodded, slightly nudging your leg with his knee

“Yes I am aware”

“I mean, not like I had to ask, you’re the one who’s liked me since the holiday party, jeez”

You stepped away from him in response

“Oh, you wanna go there? Really? You’re the one who confessed over the phone after calling me and proceeding to claim that I was the one who called and missed you”

“HEY”

“HEY YOURSELF”

Welp, there goes that moment NICE ONE GUYS

And the two of you were all weird again, bickering as usual...

but you wouldn’t have it any other way :’))

The both of you officially dated from then on, making the King and Queen very happy about the development

And yes, they did tell you to begin preparing for grandchildren after you two got married, making you two very embarrassed LOL

You two actually didn’t talk about marriage, but it was looming over your heads

Jaehwan and Ong were relieved that Daniel had finally figured himself out, and they complained to him about all the times he annoyed them over it LOL

You two actually went out alone sometimes now, but for the most part your relationship was the same as before... except for the occasional attempts at romance and... intimacy aHEM

Daniel would do the cringiest things, like say dumb pickup lines and help you put on your shoes, calling you “princess” (which makes sense)

You would be mesmerized or disgusted by these efforts, and frequently made fun of him, but you both just liked each other so much so it didn’t matter much LOL

The King and Queen absolutely adored the two of you, and were incredibly satisfied that their master plan had resulted in fruits of success

They caught you exchanging your first “love you”s and blushes and the Queen literally screamed jfc

(why Daniel said “love you” instead of “thank you” when you passed him the juice at dinner one day was still unknown to this day)

And slowly, over the course of weeks, the both of you drifted together before sleeping, getting closer and closer until one day you both just began falling asleep in the other’s arms, both of you extremely content

And one night, as you two were drifting off together, Daniel’s voice softly called out to you

“(Y/N).”

“Hmmm?” you groggily responded, about to fall asleep

“I already call you my princess, why don’t we just make it official?”

Suddenly, you were wide awake – did... did he just propose to me?

Like you two were already set to have an arranged marriage in the next year according to the parents, but why were these words making you so happy?

“W-what?” was all you managed to get out, a smile already forming on your lips

“(Y/N), you know what I mean. Let’s get married?”

You couldn’t hold back your excited squeal as you pulled yourself into Daniel’s warm chest, quickly nodding in response

A year ago, you couldn’t imagine being proposed to, in the middle of the night, cuddling with the nation’s literal Prince Kang Daniel, but here you were... and now this life seemed not only normal, but necessary

“Okay, sounds good. Good night Princess (Y/L/N),” Daniel whispered, as if he didn’t just propose to you a minute earlier... 

And you loved him for that.

“Night, Daniel.”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

A/N: Ahh I hope that ending was alright... guess I wanted to keep it a simple contrast to what happened right before that 😉 This part came out to be longer than the others, but I really wanted to finish it up this time. Hope you enjoyed!

I haven’t been updating as frequently as I am preparing for pre-college things, but I also don’t want to rush so that I can make sure to put out quality writings that I feel confident about. Hope that makes sense!

Thank you once again for all of the patience! I know many of you have been waiting for a while 💖

#kang daniel #wanna one #wanna one scenarios #wanna one reactions #kang daniel scenarios #produce 101 scenarios #produce 101 reactions #wanna one imagines #produce 101 #produce 101 imagines #ong seongwoo #kim jaehwan #kpop fanfiction #kpop scenarios #kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #wannaone #broduce #broduce 101 #fanfiction

[myqueenmarceline]

Mutual pact of non-affection

Part 1, story is under the read more

Bubbline AU: Marceline Abadeer, the Vampire Queen, daughter of the ruler of the nightosphere, is reluctantly married to the Princess of the up-and-coming Candy Kingdom. They were supposed to be merely political, but her new wife is far more charming than she expected.

Link to this chapter: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13039155

Marceline didn't think she'd ever been in such a foul mood.

In a moment, her bride was to walk down the aisle and they would officially be married. It should have been an amazing day, but instead, all she wanted to do was get it over with.

After being woken far too early in the day, she had been poked and prodded enough for even the calmest demon to snap. Even if this suit was better than the hellish corset and dress, it was still itchy.

Her father stood next to her at the altar, ensuring that she wouldn't try and duck out at the last minute. Every time she started to slouch, his claws would subtly digging into her elbow.

He looked inordinately proud of himself, probably thinking that he was so shrewd for having linked himself to one of the fastest growing kingdoms in Ooo. He had also assured that his daughter would now be a political figure, whether she wanted to or not. The Vampire Queen might have sounded prestigious, but with no other vampires left, it was essentially an empty title.

Marceline may not have exchanged more than 10 words with the Princess before this (or even knew her first name), but, this was still better than her other option: having to start running the entire Nightosphere.

At least like this she would only be the spouse of a ruler, and it gave her an excuse to be able to stay in Ooo without her father trying to drag her back to the palace.

Everyone suddenly turned, and Marceline looked up. She had to admit, she didn't think such a large pink veil could look good on anyone, but the Princess somehow made it look regal.

She walked down the aisle, just slow enough for everyone to admire her as she walked by. Her gaze, however, stayed in the front, looking only at the place where she was supposed to stand.

During the ceremony, Marceline focused on trying to count the number of gems sewn into the Princess’ gown.

Her father nudged her when it was time for the rings, and she robotically held out her hand. This was the only part of the ceremony she’d had any say in, getting to choose what her ring looked like. The obsidian band and blood red stone looked lovely, and she admired the way it shone in the light.

Bonnibel’s ring had a similar shape, but it was made of silver with a shining rainbow gemstone.

Marceline offered her a brief grin, but then they were ushered away to the reception (in her new castle), and things only became even more insufferable.

She was rapidly swamped with demons she didn't know, all patting her shoulder and congratulating her on the marriage. Everything was too loud, and by the time she got to the punch, it was already drained. There was literally nothing else that she could consume there, so she had to just wait until it was over.

It didn't help that the castle decoration was absolutely smothered in cheerful pastels, and the few candy citizens she did see were obnoxiously happy about it.

Finally, finally, she was able to be alone. A Peppermint Butler showed her to their shared chambers, where all of Marceline’s affairs had been moved.

She quickly disrobed, changing into a loose undershirt and shorts. She leaned against the wall in the corner of the room. Falling asleep alone in a strange place was a bad idea; she should at least wait to see if her wife had anything to say.

The door opened, and the Princess slumped against the door, wrinkling her skirt as she leaned against it.

She opened her eyes, letting out an exasperated groan as she noticed Marceline. Even if she could understand her feelings, Marceline couldn't help feeling a little offended. She wasn't that bad, was she?

Bonnibel seemed to realize this, pinching her temples with one hand and wincing. "Listen, I’m sorry. This isn't your fault, and you don't deserve that. I was up conducting research far too late last night, and I just… We need to talk about how this union is going to work, and that’s a conversation I'm just not in the mood for. Shall we just go to bed and discuss this in the morning?”

That was the first good thing Marceline had heard all day. She rapidly agreed, getting into bed and averting her eyes as the Princess undressed and slipped in next to her.

She dropped off quickly, this nightmare of a day lost in murky, dreamless sleep.

#my stuff #my fanfic #my fanficton #bubbline #sugarless gum #au #arranged marriage au #marceline #princess bubblegum #at #adventure time #slow burn #long story #well i hope it will be