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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 months

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The Dangers of Hope Ch. 8

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, fluff, some smut.

Word Count: 6,667

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: As I said in a previous post, this chapter just kicked my ass. I hope after battling with it for so long, you find it worth it. 😊

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The dividers below were created by @saradika

Y/N and Dean followed Cas into the tent, curiosity hurrying their step. When they entered, Y/N went to sit beside Emma on her cot and smoothed back her daughter’s messy hair. “You were supposed to be sleeping.” She said, her tone scolding.

Emma just shrugged and Y/N rolled her eyes. Dean added some wood to the stove to warm up the tent a bit more before coming back to where Cas stood impatiently. Dean crossed his arms over his chest and lifted a hand towards Cas.

“Okay, Cas, what do you know?”

Cas opened his mouth to speak but then looked down at Emma. “Perhaps…perhaps the child should be removed.”

Y/N felt Emma tense next to her, but before she could say anything, Dean leaned down to scoop Emma into his arms, settling her against his left side.

“No, she’s fine.” He kissed the top of Emma’s head. “Right kiddo?” Emma nodded and beamed up at Dean before she tucked her head under his chin and snuggled into his chest.

Y/N felt like her heart might burst with happiness and warmth as she saw the evidence of the deep connection that had been forged between Dean and Emma. She was so distracted by the sweet moment that it took her a second to realize Cas was speaking to her.

She looked over at him and shook her head. “Sorry, Cas, what did you say?”

The angel sighed heavily, and repeated himself. “I asked you how old you are.”

Thrown a bit by the question, Y/N frowned. Cas thought he understood her reluctance and tried to address it. “I realize that it's a generally accepted practice to never ask a woman her age but this is important.”

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “No, it’s fine, Cas. I’m twenty-eight.”

The angel’s eyes lit up. “What month and year were you born?”

“Um, March 1986. Why?”

Cas clapped his hands together once. “I knew it!”

Dean seemed as confused as she was. “Cas, man, what are you talking-”

“When did Azazel die?”

Dean pulled up short as Cas interrupted him and then he was clearly wracking his memory. “Uh…I think 2006 or - no,” he corrected himself, “no, it was 2007. May 2007.”

Cas looked back to Y/N. “And how old were you in May 2007?”

She tried to do the math quickly, but Dean answered for her.

“Twenty-one.” His voice was almost a whisper and it sounded full of awe. “You were twenty-one.”

Y/N stood up from the cot, tired of craning her neck to look up at the two tall men. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and shrugged. “Yeah, that seems right. Why?”

Dean and Cas exchanged a look and then the angel’s handsome face split into another rare smile and Dean followed very quickly - a bright beautiful smile spreading across his face. It didn’t matter that Y/N had no idea what they were so excited about - Dean’s pure, unfiltered smile was like sunshine and it warmed her just as much. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Dean looked down at her, his expression full of wonder before nodding and looking back at Cas. “Yes. She was twenty-one when Yellow-Eyes died. That’s why the psychic connection was never triggered between them. By the time she turned twenty-two, he was already dead.”

Cas was nodding. “So, she has the blood in her system, hence the immunity, but -”

“None of those pesky psychic side effects.” Dean finished.

Y/N put up her hands. “Okay, you both have to stop speaking in riddles and explain what the hell you’re talking about.”

Dean shifted Emma to his other arm, so he could face Y/N easier. “The demon gave you his blood; we know that for sure because you're immune to the bite you got, and there’s no other way that could be true. But every other person I've seen with the blood in their system started getting various kinds of psychic powers as soon as they turned twenty-two. But,” he pointed at Y/N, “you don't have them.”

He smiled at Cas. “And now we know why.”

He looked back at Y/N and his face was the happiest she'd ever seen it as he continued explaining. “Because by the time you turned twenty-two, the demon was already dead. So the psychic connection couldn't be made between the two of you.”

He was beaming at her, and Y/N smiled back, but she was slightly confused by his joy. She shrugged. “Well, that's…good.”

Dean shook his head. “It's so much more than good, sweetheart.” His voice dropped to a whisper of awe. “It's a cure.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. “What?”

Cas moved closer. “Don't you see? The antibodies in your blood, they can be used to create a vaccine. And now that we know there's no inherent, potentially evil, psychic powers associated with the blood itself, there's nothing stopping us from trying to make one.”

Y/N felt an incredible sense of surreality fall over her, like she was suddenly in a very vivid dream.

A cure.

A cure for the world.

Inside of her.

It suddenly felt very hard for her to breathe, like she might just float away.

But then Dean's big hand was on her cheek, pulling her back to reality, grounding her with his warmth and the light in his emerald eyes.

“This is incredible, sweetheart. But it’ll be a process, probably a very long one. So, don't let it overwhelm you right now. Small steps, remember? Small things will add up to big wins, right?”

Y/N was so grateful for his steady calm and strength. She nodded as tears filled her eyes and she closed them, leaning into his palm.

“What's wrong, Mommy. Why are you crying?” Emma's little voice sounded slightly worried and Y/N popped open her eyes to see Dean kiss her forehead.

“Nothing's wrong kiddo. Mommy's just happy.”

Y/N nodded in reassurance, smiling brightly to put her daughter's mind at ease. “Yeah, baby. These are just happy tears.”

Emma seemed satisfied and smiled back.

Cas spoke again, his deep voice rumbling through the tent. “You know Y/N, it’s also unlikely that the responsibility will fall solely on you.”

Y/N and Dean looked at Cas questioningly as the angel explained.

“Well, Azazel never turned just one child at a time. He spoke of generations, didn’t he? So, there would be Sam’s generation, born in eighty-three, and now we know Y/N’s generation born in eighty-six. There may have been others. We don’t know when he stopped creating his psychic kids. So any kid he visited after nineteen eighty-six would have the blood with no psychic connection.”

He shrugged. “So, we could be talking about dozens of immune people, potentially more, depending on when he stopped. There may be many people out there that are just like you, Y/N.”

Dean pulled Y/N into his side and shook his head. “No, there’s no one like Y/N.”

Cas seemed confused for a moment as though they simply hadn’t understood what he said. But Dean just shook his head again. “It’s okay, buddy. You’re right. We’ll have to try and figure out his system, how he did things, how and why he chose the kids he did. That’s gonna be a lot to try and search out. We should start figuring out how to go about researching with our very limited resources.”

Cas looked like he thought of something, opening his mouth to speak. But then he stopped himself and just nodded. “Yes, research.”

The three of them talked for a long time, going over thoughts and theories without coming to any firm conclusions.

Finally Emma let out a loud yawn, and Y/N wrapped her arm around Dean’s waist. “But Dean’s right. We’re not going to figure everything out right now. Small steps. We’re all snowed in here for a couple of months now, right? So, we can take that time to try and come up with a game plan for spring.”

The men both nodded and Cas moved towards the exit, but Dean called him back. “Wait, Cas.”

When the angel turned back to him, Dean took two long strides towards him and then pulled him into a one armed hug, trying not to bounce Emma too much as he was pounding him on the back.

“Thanks, man.” He said, his voice slightly rough. “For everything. And for…not giving up.”

The angel was obviously awkward with the show of affection, and just patted Dean on the shoulder. He was looking down at the ground as he answered him. “Actually, I gave up many times. I just couldn’t manage to stay given up.” He said with a shrug.

Dean chuckled. “Well, then thanks for not staying there.”

The angel nodded and left the tent.

Silence reigned for a moment before Y/N took a deep breath and then turned to her daughter. “Okay, baby, I think it’s time for you to actually go to sleep now.” She admonished her with a smile.

Emma pouted slightly, but then giggled as Dean tossed her gently into the air, and then swung her downward to let her feet touch the floor. He held the back of her head in his big hand as he kissed the top.

“Goodnight, kiddo.” He looked at Y/N. “You’re low on firewood, I’m gonna grab you some more.”

As Dean went out into the dark, Y/N tucked Emma back under her thick blankets. She leaned forward to kiss her cheek, and Emma's expression turned curious.

“Mommy, are you going to marry Dean?”

Y/N felt her jaw drop. “What?”

“Are you going to marry him now?”

Y/N shook her head. “Where is this coming from? Why are you asking?”

Emma shrugged her thin shoulders. “In the fairytales, after they kiss, they get married.”

Y/N just chuckled. “I don’t know baby, it’s way too early to think about that.”

Emma’s brow furrowed in confusion. “It’s nighttime.”

Y/N laughed happily. “Yes, it is.”

Emma’s expression cleared and she smiled shyly. “I like him.” She nodded as though confirming her own words. “Lots.”

Y/N booped her nose. “I like him lots too, baby.”

In fact, I’m madly in love with him. She admitted to herself and the feeling warmed her.

She’d known it for quite a while, and in fact she wondered whether she’d actually fallen in love with him when she was sixteen years old and he came to save her from the dark. It was entirely possible. But either way, she was completely in love with him now.

But she didn’t say any more to Emma, telling her goodnight one more time and then moving slowly around the tent, putting things away and straightening up the small space.

As she tidied, she worked to process everything, all the incredible information that had been relayed to her so quickly tonight. But the long term effects of Cas’ revelation made too many emotions and thoughts swirl around in her mind. It was a bit too much to contemplate at the moment, so she pushed it aside.

Instead she let her mind drift back to the memory of Dean’s kisses, before Cas had shown up. The way his lips had felt as they moved against her skin was lodged firmly in her memory and it made her sigh.

Her mind slid back to the way he’d touched her, the way his deft fingers had played her like an instrument. The memory of him pushing into her body, of how he’d so easily plucked pleasure from deep inside of her, had her biting her lip as wetness flooded her again.

Her excited reverie of Dean was interrupted as the man himself came back inside with an armful of firewood. He walked towards her, stopping short when he saw her heated expression as she looked up at him. A slow, knowing smile crossed his face.

“Penny for your thoughts, sweetheart.” He said. “Or, let me guess.” He moved to the box beside the stove and unloaded the wood before turning back to her and pulling her into his embrace.

His voice dropped low and quiet as he spoke into her ear. “Thinking about our time outside the tent?”

Y/N nodded, and then dropped her hand between their bodies to cup the slight bulge behind his zipper. “Yeah, I’m very sorry we got interrupted.” She whispered back. “I guess I owe you one.”

Dean growled quietly and she chuckled. He kissed her lightly, his lingering lips telling her that he wanted so much more. But he pulled back.

“Looking forward to it.” He said with a smirk. Then he sighed. “But for now, I should head back to my tent and let you get to sleep.” His voice and his expression were full of regret.

Y/N nodded and then shrugged. “Or…”

She thought of Emma asking about kissing and marriage and realized that they clearly weren’t actually hiding much from her. So she decided to just go for it.

“Or, you could stay the night here.”

She was quick to elaborate her offer when Dean’s eyes got wide. “I mean, we’d just be sleeping. But it would be nice to…” She dropped her gaze to the ground. “It would be nice to wake up with you.”

Dean nodded and lifted her chin with his forefinger so he could smile at her. “Yeah, it would.” He kissed her again softly and then glanced at the narrow cot. “Gonna be a tight fit.”

Y/N laughed and then pressed tight against him. “Well, guess we’ll just have to snuggle a bit then.”

Dean moaned softly. “Not sure if that’s an offer of heaven or hell.”

Y/N smiled wickedly. “Probably a bit of both.”

***

As winter settled heavily onto the camp and the snow grew higher everywhere, rotating groups of ten to twelve people per week were tasked with making sure the snow was shoveled from pathways and piled up safely and effectively against the tents to act as another layer of insulation from the wind.

The food boxes Brandy had suggested were a big hit; everyone already had to deal with freezing trips to the outhouses, so limiting more outside time was greatly appreciated.

For the most part people hunkered down in their tents, but there was one thing that brought folks out - The Mid-Winter Feast, as Y/N had dubbed it. She’d decided that before they had to fight through January, and most of February, always the harshest part of winter, they should have a little celebration of their community.

So, she’d asked Monique, Brandy and a few other interested campers to meet her at the main cabin, with the electrical heat turned on for an hour or so a day, so they could plan. In the beginning, they’d just been planning a small dinner - just people bringing some rations together to enjoy as a group. But as more people became involved, the celebration expanded.

The camp hunters offered to go out into the very cold surrounding forest and hunt down some kind of fresh meat. After a few days of hunting they returned with a half dozen rabbits, two geese and a young buck. So, there would be lots of rabbit stew, a couple roast geese and salted venison for the feast, with a bunch of leftovers too.

The elderly quilt-maker, Hannah, spent an afternoon giving a lesson to the kids (and a few adults as well) teaching them how to make small bannocks over the fire, which were then donated to the feast. All the campers also each donated two days worth of their vegetable rations so that everyone could have a feast of mashed potatoes, green beans and corn.

The camp builders chopped down a tree and brought it into the big cabin. It would eventually be firewood, but for now it was the star of the show. Y/N had the schoolkids take labels off of empty tin cans and fold them into stars as decorations for the tree, while the builders took the empty tin cans themselves, and cut them into wintery shapes like snowmen, sleds, and mittens. The metal was a bit dull, but it still added some shine to the tree when they were hung there.

When Y/N read to the kids in the cabin at the end of the week, parents and non-parents alike came in to listen to the stories while they stood at the tables and folded evergreen branches into boughs and wreaths.

Everyone pitched in, and soon the cabin looked incredible, draped in green and other bright colors.

The actual day of the feast was busy and happy. The rabbit stew was made in a big pot over a huge outdoor fire where the geese were also roasted, and soon the whole camp smelled like sizzling, delicious food.

Everyone carted chairs from their tents to the big cabin, trying to jam them all in. The grownups all managed to sit at the big tables lined up around the room, even though everyone was pressed in tight beside each other. But the kids table ended up being the floor at the base of the tree. But the kids sure didn’t seem to mind; they kept forgetting to eat while they chattered with each other loudly and looked up at the decorated tree with wide and wondering eyes.

Brandy and Y/N made sure that baskets of food were made up and taken out to the soldiers who were at their outposts making sure the camp stayed safe while everyone celebrated.

It was a truly incredible day, and when dinner was finished, and the food packed away safely, they all stayed in the cabin a few more hours, playing simple games like simon says or charades, or talking and laughing together, and just generally enjoying the company of other people before the cold mostly bound everyone to their tent for the next couple of months.

As the evening ended and people began heading for their tents, happily full and tired, Dean came back into the cabin, having gone out a bit earlier to check on his soldiers. He walked up to where Y/N sat with a sleeping Emma on her lap.

He smiled at them as he approached and in that moment Y/N felt a peace flood through her that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Obviously the world was still dangerous, and they still had so far to go before they were safe, but in that moment she felt completely happy.

When Dean got to them, he reached down to lift Emma out of Y/N’s lap and hold her in one arm, so he could reach his other hand out to Y/N. She clasped it tightly and they walked slowly back to their now shared tent.

As they walked along they could hear people calling out goodbyes to each other, as well as a continued murmur of conversations through the paths of tents. There was a sense of peace and happiness hanging over the whole camp.

Dean stopped in the middle of the path back to their red tent and turned to look down at Y/N. His face seemed awestruck and he shook his head.

“Last winter we all had to huddle in the cabin just to stay alive, and this year we were all crowded in there again, but this time we were actually living. People used to walk around the camp nervous every time I passed by. But now they smile.” He bent his head to press a soft kiss to Y/N’s lips. “You’ve changed everything, sweetheart.”

Y/N blushed. “That isn’t because of me. The winter just hasn’t gotten too brutal yet this year, and everyone helped out with the feast. And if people are less nervous around you, that’s obviously because of you, not me.”

But Dean just shook his head. “No…it’s you.”

***

Six weeks later

“What are we doing here?” Y/N asked with a laugh as Dean finally let her open her eyes and she saw he'd led her to the garage.

Dean was smiling at her. “I wanted to show you something.”

He took her hand and led her around the side of the garage. As they came upon the black Impala that sat beside the building towards the back, Y/N gasped. Snow had been cleared away all around it, and the weeds and grasses that had overrun it had been pulled up. There was still some rust on the doors and the tires were still flat, but the cracked windshield had been replaced and it looked much spiffier than it had before.

The big, black beauty looked like she knew she was getting love again.

She looked at Dean as he brought her closer. “You've been working on her.”

Dean looked a bit sheepish. “Yeah, just when I had a bit of spare time, so there's still lots to do. She still doesn’t have an engine, but I put in a new battery that lets me do this.“

He brought her to the driver's side door and opened it with a heavy creak. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, the moonlight glinting off the silver keychain. Then he leaned inside and pushed them into the ignition, turning them so that heat and radio turned on. Of course the radio had nothing but static, so Dean quickly turned it off.

Dean closed the front door to open the back and lifted a hand, inviting her to precede him into the back seat. She climbed into the soft leather seat, Dean following behind her. She could see the inside had been lovingly cleaned and restored.

“This is amazing!” Y/N said enthusiastically, her hand running over the buttery leather of the seat.

Dean nodded, looking around. “Yeah, gotta a lot of work left, obviously. But…”

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he took off his jacket. “It's good to be back with her.”

He caught Y/N's eye and his expression became teasing.

“Now let me show you the new feature I installed.” He reached past her shoulder where a thin blanket hung; it was more like a small sheet. He pulled it across the two passenger side windows and then did the same on the driver side. He leaned over the front seat and tucked the ends of the sheet into the visors in the front, effectively closing off the interior of the car, with only a thin strip of the windshield left uncovered.

Y/N laughed as he sat back down beside her. He raised a finger. “And my very favorite feature is this one.” He reached forward again and pushed down the door locks on the front doors before doing the same in the back.

He moaned softly as he leaned back into the seat. “Privacy, blessed privacy at last.”

Y/N was smiling wide as he looked over at her. The heat in his gaze made her blush and duck her head; his need was so raw and blatant it made her stomach clench and wetness pool at her core.

The last six weeks had indeed been both heaven and hell. It had been too cold to go outside very often, so they were mostly left inside the tent, where their touching and kissing was very limited. Stolen moments here and there were simply, not nearly enough.

So to finally be somewhere they could be together, privately with a lock on the door…

Y/N bit her lip. “You said you asked Monique to watch Emma?” Dean nodded. “For how long?”

“Hours. At least. There was talk of a sleepover.” He answered roughly.

Y/N felt her heart beat double time as she watched Dean. The set of his jaw was harsh as he leaned over to pull her easily into his lap so she straddled him. Y/N braced herself against his wide shoulders as he reached up to suck on her pulse point.

He pushed her jacket off of her shoulders and then shoved up her t-shirt so he could cup her breasts through her bra. His voice was a rattling groan.

“Ah, fuck sweetheart, you’re so goddamn perfect.” He murmured as he laid nibbling kisses along the tops of her breasts. Y/N was quickly overwhelmed with her need for him, but she tried to find her breath and form thoughts, so she could tell him something.

But then he thoroughly distracted her as he pushed the cups of her bra up, freeing her breasts so he could push them together and bury his face in the cleavage. He licked and sucked at her skin, teeth scraping and biting as his big hands squeezed one breast and then the other. Y/N lost her thoughts completely as he reached between her legs and pushed at the soft material of her sweats and leggings, pressing them against her soaked core.

He pushed his hand under her waistband, not stopping until he buried his fingers deep inside her. His invasion was so sudden and forceful Y/N cried out loudly as her walls clenched tightly around his thick fingers.

He grunted against her lips before biting her bottom one and tugging on it. Y/N let out a gasp and ground down against his hand. Dean swore and pumped his fingers into her faster and rougher, adding a third and stretching her. The mostly pleasurable sting of the stretch reminded her of what she wanted to tell him and she laid a hand on his wrist where it disappeared into her pants.

“I have…have to tell you something.”

Dean stilled the movements of his hand, but kept licking and nibbling on her breasts. “What?” He asked in a rough voice.

“I um…I think I might…” He sucked hard on her nipple and she ground down against his hand again. He resumed his movements, pumping in and out of her fast and hard. He found her sweet spot and pressed against it, making her fall forward onto him, burying her face in the side of his neck and rambling out the end of her sentence.

“I think I might suck at this.”

Dean stopped moving all together and his breath left him in a whoosh as he pulled back from Y/N and pushed against her shoulder so he could look her in the eye. His brow was furrowed in complete confusion.

“What?” He asked, his breathing rough.

Y/N was embarrassed. “Nevermind, it’s stupid.” She reached for his mouth, but Dean turned away and shook his head.

“No, explain what you mean.” He said as he pulled his fingers out of her body. Y/N groaned.

“No, I don’t want you to stop.” She pulled his hand back so he was cupping her wet heat through her clothes. “Please don’t stop. I just…wanted to, I don’t know, warn you I guess.”

She shrugged. “So you could limit your expectations.”

Dean was staring at her and his expression was incredulous. “Why on earth would you think that? What would make you believe that?”

Y/N shrugged again, embarrassed and wishing more than anything that she had just kept quiet. “It’s just…well, it’s been a long time.” Her face was bright red. “I mean, I haven’t exactly been dating. The last guy I was with was Emma’s father and….”

She swallowed thickly. “...and he was also my first, so…I have, I mean I don’t have a lot of experience. And I got the feeling that…well that he didn’t really like what I was doing.”

She couldn’t look at Dean as she spoke, staring at his neck instead. But Dean called her name softly and she slowly looked back up at him. In contrast to his gentle voice, his expression was fierce, and his eyes were blazing.

“Listen to me carefully. There is no possible way for you to be bad at this.” Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but Dean pressed a finger to her lips. “No. There’s no argument to be had here. The facts are simple, you are stunningly beautiful, sexy as hell, and you make my whole fucking body hard.”

She rolled her hips against him with a slight smile and he groaned.

“God damn woman, I’ve wanted you since that first day I took you to the river and you came out screeching and covered in leeches.” He grinned.

Y/N batted his arm. “You weren’t supposed to be looking.”

His grin turned wolfish as he pulled her t-shirt off completely and unhooked her bra to toss it into the front seat. “Well, I was. And what I was looking at hasn’t left my mind since.”

He trailed the calloused pads of his fingers down the soft sides of her breasts. “You’re so perfect, Y/N and I want you so much. The way you respond to my touch,” he tweaked her nipple and she gasped, “it’s what I dream about. And I can’t get the taste of you off my tongue.”

He wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, pulling her mouth down to him, and sucking her tongue into his mouth. He trailed kisses down her neck, inhaling deeply. “And fuck, when you’re not near me, I can still smell your scent on my clothes. And I get so hard thinking about you that it actually hurts.”

He pressed her hand against his straining cock and Y/N whimpered slightly. She caught his gaze as she reached for his zipper and he nodded, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as she reached into his pants to caress him. Holding his breath, Dean lifted his hips so he could push down his jeans and underwear, giving her complete access to him.

She held him in her fist tentatively. “Can I…um…”

Dean responded to her truncated sentence quickly. “Yes. Whatever you were going to ask, the answer is yes.” She squeezed him slightly and he groaned harshly. “Yes, please.” He added in a harsh whisper.

Feeling bold and confident now, she slipped down to the floor, her knees scraping against the rough floor mat beneath her. She began placing kisses up and down his rock hard shaft. Then she licked the slit at the tip of his cock before taking the whole head of his dick into her mouth and sucking hard. Dean slammed his head back against the seat and pushed his fingers into her hair, guiding her head as she bobbed up and down.

She pushed as far as she could, until he was at the back of her throat. Then she pulled off him with a gasp, but went right back, getting him further down her throat the second time, and working the base of his cock with a tight fist. Drool and cum dripped down his shaft, lubricating him, and she used it as she pumped him.

Finally Dean tugged on her hair gently and shook his head. “Fuck, Y/N, you gotta stop, sweetheart. I'm gonna come, and I've waited way too long for the chance to be inside you, to move in you and feel your tight, sweet pussy clench around me, feel it pull me into your heat.”

Y/N moaned at his incredibly hot words, and came off of his cock with a pop. Dean helped her up from the floorboards and when she was mostly upright, he yanked down her pants and underwear. They got caught up in her boots and she stumbled back onto Dean’s lap, laughing, her feet tied together. But she was too impatient to try and get her boots unlaced and off, so she just left them. But she tugged his t-shirt up and off of him, kissing a path across his chest.

She held the base of his cock steady as she rose to her knees and lined him up at her entrance. Both of them groaned in unison as she sank down on him slowly. He was so big it made Y/N bite her lip as he stretched her with the same slight sting she’d felt on his fingers. But it was so worth it; the way he filled her so completely made her breathing extremely harsh as she began to rock against him.

Dean pulled her back down to his mouth so he could kiss all the air out of her lungs as she rode him. He slipped one hand down between their bodies and pressed his thumb against her clit, making her gasp and dig her nails into his shoulders as she held on tightly.

The coil in her lower abdomen was getting tighter and tighter as he pressed so perfectly against her. Finally he pulled her nipple into his mouth again, sucking hard and Y/N tumbled wildly over the edge. She slammed her hips up and down on him as she rode out the climax.

Dean pulled away from her breast and grabbed onto her hips, taking over their rhythm, lifting her up and slamming her down against him as she faltered and fell onto his chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist, jackhammering into her tight sheath, and once again swirled his middle finger around her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Come on, sweetheart. I wanna feel you clutch me tight one more time, just one more.”

Y/N’s head spun with pleasure and she sat up and then leaned back, resting her hands behind her on his thighs. The new angle had him hitting her sweet spot with every thrust. It didn’t take long to send her spinning into another climax; this time when she fell, Dean fell with her, bending forward to nip and lick at the valley between her breasts as he bucked up into her, spending every drop of himself.

Finally he rested his forehead against her sternum and just breathed hot and panting against her damp skin. There was no need for the curtains now, every window was covered in condensation and impossible to see through.

Slowly their breathing returned to normal and Dean wrapped them both up in his jacket. The heat in the car was on, but it was still just late February, and the air was cold on their overheated skin.

They shifted slightly so that Dean was leaning back in the seat and Y/N rested against his chest. She loved the feel of him inside her, even soft, and she wasn’t ready to give it up yet. Dean pushed her hair back from her temple and kissed her there. His breathing was still a bit rough as he spoke.

“Would you care to tell me again how you think you’re bad at this?�� Y/N chuckled and Dean shook his head. “Guy was a fucking idiot, obviously.”

Y/N just nodded. After a moment, Dean kissed her forehead. “What happened there, with him? Emma’s father, I mean. Where is he now?”

Y/N sat up slightly and shook her head. “I have no idea. He was gone long before the world ended. Pretty much as soon as the stick turned pink.”

Dean kissed her softly. “Asshole.” He said simply and Y/N nodded again, smiling and laying back against Dean’s chest.

They dozed there gently for a while until there was suddenly a light tapping on the front passenger's side window. They both jolted awake and Dean groaned.

“What?” He called out angrily.

It was Johnston who answered. “I’m so sorry to bug you, sir, but I was told Y/N was here. It’s Emma, she’s hurt.”

***

By the time they got dressed, turned off the car and ran to the medical tent, it was already quite full of people. Monique, Keisha and Julianne were there and both little girls were crying. Brandy and Theresa were there too. Patrick, who'd been an EMT before the end came, and who therefore acted as the camp medic when needed, was standing close to where Emma sat on a folding table that was covered in a sheet.

Her daughter’s big blue eyes were swimming in tears and as she saw Y/N enter she began crying in earnest, reaching her left arm out towards her, while she held the right one close to her body. Y/N could see that her right arm was bent at an odd angle.

Broken.

Her stomach twisted and she felt a bit sick as she looked at it. But she walked up to Emma and pulled her tight against her. “Oh, baby, what happened?”

Monique stepped forward, her face awash in guilt. “I’m so sorry Y/N. The girls were all playing together just outside the tent, while Brandy and I were talking. We’d left a flap open and we could see them. But it just happened so quick we couldn’t stop it.”

Brandy took over the story. “They were all taking turns sitting on Theresa’s back and she was riding them around like a pony, and Emma just took a tumble off her back and…and then just started crying. We got her over here as fast as possible.”

Monique covered her mouth with her fingers. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.” She repeated. But Y/N just shook her head.

“Oh, Monique, no, it isn't your fault. Or anyones.” She said looking at Theresa whose face was ashen and also wore a look of guilt. Y/N kissed Emma’s forehead. “Accidents just happen.”

But Emma’s little shoulders still shook with quiet sobs and Y/N felt awful for her baby girl. Patrick started to lift her arm slightly and Emma let out a painful cry. Dean stepped up behind Patrick, and his voice was hard with authority.

“Be careful what you’re doing.” He scolded.

Patrick just nodded. “Yes sir. I just need to try and figure out how the bone is broken, so I can splint it properly.”

As the medic/soldier poked and prodded as gently as he could, Emma continued to cry and buried her face in Y/N’s chest. Accepting that his soldier was being as careful as he could, Dean stopped hovering over him and moved around to stand behind Emma instead, rubbing soothing circles over her skinny back.

Finally Patrick nodded. “I think it’s a greenstick fracture. I’m gonna get a splint to hold it in place.”

He walked away to a sideboard that had medical paraphernalia sitting on it. As he did, however, Cas walked into the tent. Y/N looked up at the angel, and was taken aback by the way he was staring at Emma. His expression was cautious and a little frightened as he approached her.

“It’s a broken arm.” Y/N explained and he just nodded.

“Emma,” he said quietly, “hold still okay. I think,” he glanced at Y/N and then Dean, “I think I can fix you.”

“Cas?” Dean asked, clearly confused.

The angel lifted his hand over Emma’s arm and for a moment it just looked like he was going to grab hold of it. But suddenly, a white light began to grow beneath his palm and his already blue eyes glowed bright, like blue flame.

Y/N held her breath, as seconds later, the light left his eyes and he pulled his hand away. Emma’s eyes became wide and then she clapped happily. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, Mommy!”

Y/N tried to smile at her daughter, but her eyes fell on Cas, and Dean asked the question uppermost in her mind.

“What the hell, Cas? Since when can you heal anymore?” He shook his head. “What…what does this mean?”

Cas’ face was serious, and the fear Y/N had seen before was still there as he answered.

“I’m afraid that…I think it means the other angels have returned.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#endverse!dean x reader #endverse!dean #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #endverse!dean fan fic #endverse!dean series #spn fan fic series

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meamiiikiii · 26 days

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Hello. I haven't spoken much on the Reverse Entry AU (Modern Office + Reverse Isekai Loop AU). That changes today!!! Have some scattered (relatively long) tidbits on this AU. Mainly background to actually get to the office part of it but, yea!

If anyone wants elaboration on anything on this list, and I do mean anything, I encourage asking!! Or any random questions on the AU general!! Or just things in general!! Make me think about things I have not considered!!

Spoilers for all of ISAT + 2Hats and the like:

Mainly Concrete

The Country -> The Company.

Well, more of a family storefront, but the similarity in those two words next to each other was too good to pass up LOL.

Said storefront was run by Siffrin’s parents, and was their life's work.

Specialized in niche craft related stuff, in both teaching people how to do them & selling materials for the crafts.

It was a very warm & homely store, and was adored by locals and visitors alike.

A store that felt comforting to just vibe in for a bit, if that makes sense.

Loop ends up being Siffrin’s roommate after being reverse isekai’ed :)

They do not help with rent

They are a solid night light, which they try to justify as helping with the electricity bill

They also find a mirror shortly after arrival.

Important Points

Mirabelle & Isabeau have known each other since University and are besties!!!!!!!!!

Not 100% sure of the logistics yet, but this was too important of a point to not include

Additionally, please know at some point, Isa custom stitched the scarf-shawl Mira wears to work all the time now, and gifted it to her!

He is also responsible for the fun pattern on the vest he wears all the time too!

Bonnie, whenever they are hanging around, makes sure to sneak onto Nille’s computer, and block out time between meetings for time to breathe / snacks for the others

And they also make sure to block out like an hour of time for proper lunches as well

Back to back to back to back meetings are not fun!!!

Breaks are important!!!

I have mentioned this in a different post, but this too, is a very important point to not include here as well

Location of Living

Mirabelle & Siffrin live in the same apartment complex, but on opposite sides of it

They have briefly interacted a few times prior to being coworkers?

But Siffrin had his hair dyed for interviews for a long time

So Mirabelle didn’t realize it was him for a while, since he started growing out the dye before formally meeting in a work environment

Siffrin simply forgor

Isabeau lives relatively close-by to where Mira & Sif live, he visits Mira sometimes!!

He may or may not have also interacted with Siffrin two (2) times prior to working together due to the above point

Nille & Bonnie live around the area Siffrin used to live before he had to move, and have resided in that area for a long time

They technically were neighbors, at one point!

Odile lives closer to the office than everyone else

Shorter commute for in-office days

But still in the general vicinity of everyone else's abodes ofc

Hiring Order

Mirabelle has been working in the office the longest (interned two years in a row, and was formally hired right out of University)

Isabeau is next after since he got a referral off of Mira (interned for one year before graduation, then was hired at the same time Mirabelle was)

Odile was hired to replace Euphrasie (previous senior manager to their team who got a promotion, she’s now director of the regional office)

Siffrin was hired a bit after Odile when they got more capacity, since what they were originally doing was way too much for just three people LOL

Apparently, he got a referral from someone internally, but has no idea about it!

Nille was hired a little bit after Siffrin was

She only agreed upon the role if she was granted the flexibility to pick up Bonnie from school whenever

Random RPG Equivalence Hour

Turn Based Combat = Emails

Whether it be waiting for data to start processes, answering inquiries, so on and so forth

Sometimes those turns take literal days

It happens!

Being Frozen / Damaged = Program Freezing

This goes for any program being used

If it freezes it inflicts small damage

It inflicts more damage if it crashes

It makes you cry on the floor if the program crashes and you can’t recover any of what you did for the past hour

It makes you regret all of your life decisions up to this moment in time if it crashes, you can’t recover anything, and you have a presentation on the stuff you were working on in 15 minutes

Misc Meetings

Mirabelle writes fanfic

Isabeau knows about this and supports her in her endeavors

Odile has read some of her works, but does not know she wrote them irl

At some point prior to working together, Mirabelle & Odile became mutuals and started trading book / fanfic recommendations to one another

Odile had a brief stint as a bartender prior to working for the office

Mainly to earn some form of income while applying for jobs / waiting for prior certifications to process and transfer properly after moving from another country

In one or another, she met Isabeau and Siffrin at separate intervals while working there

Additionally, the bar is located close to the office. A lot of happy hours happen there. It ended up serving as a networking opportunity for her LMAO

Both Nille and Bonnie moved around a lot when they were younger

At different intervals, Nille went to the same high schools as both Mirabelle & Isabeau

Nille has probably worked a lot of jobs throughout high school / university

This includes working at the same place Odile worked at for a bit, they were probably coworkers there at some point.

Maybe not necessarily a bartender but, general staff

Again, this served as a networking opportunity similar to the Odile segment ASFASDASDA

Um????

Loop somehow ends up becoming a vtuber.

Loop somehow ends up being a vtuber for the company the team works under, akin to Tony the Tiger.

Loop does this vtuber gig for approximately one (1) stream and quits right after.

((loop decided their first stream was a nuzlocke for some reason. the crafts company literally didnt ask them to. they decided this on their own volition for no apparent reason. the company literally asked for a stream where they do crafts?? anyway they named their pokemon after the party. and. well.))

As I am Indecisive, this still has a chance for change! But for now this list is slightly ordered from “concrete in my mind” to “need to let simmer more probably, but the vibes are there” to “probably not but it is a bit of a funny to consider” (this only applies to the last loop segment ASDAFA)

But yea!! Thanks for reading the ramblings :)

#reverse entry au #reverse isekai loop au #isat modern office au #isat spoilers #isat #text #sometimes i can translate my thoughts into something semi-easy to digest.......#there are more thoughts #but im leaving this one as more light hearted leaning ASFASDASFAS #some of them i do have drawing ideas related #mainly bit focused like wrong chat but #some are more characterization focused i think for drawings #or just isolated writings who knows #i sure dont!!!#those will be fun #when i get the nerve to do them ADASDASDA

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theforgottenmcrmy · 1 year

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Scars (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

᯽ Please note that this is an overall Part 16 to the series Growing Strong. The masterlist, and part 1, can be found on the pinned post on my profile. Tumblr is being mean and is not letting me post it here. :( ᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, mentions of death of previous characters, thoughts about characters having previously unalived someone(s), subtle but still there references to miscarriage

Summary: But did you even dare to go back that far? If you did, at what point would you realize that you and Harwin had been puppets controlled by Larys’s strings for years?

A/N: As always, thank you all who have continued to read and support this story🖤🖤🖤 the kind words are really encouraging me to see this through to the end.

I'm sorry for the delay. This chapter's a bit of a doozy length wise, so I hope that helps compensate for the temporary absence. I think I've said it before, but just in case and for reference- I did age up the boys a bit. Luke/Selwin are around 14-15ish, and Jace/Derrik are 16, almost 17. This chapter's a little bit heavy still in regards to the topics, since there was a lot of sh*t that went down last chapter, so please be aware. But it ends with two POVs centered on characters I haven't gotten to write a whole lot for yet, so there's a little change of pace there.

I hope you enjoy, and that you have a good rest of the week/weekend!🖤🖤🖤

To Lord Larys, Master of Whisperers The Traitor of House Strong:

Strength from honor.

Though a viper wears his skin, my brother is dead. You are unworthy of the name Strong, for weakling kinslayers are the most dishonorable of us all.

May the gods have mercy on you, for I will not.

Lyonel Strong shall be avenged.

King Viserys Targaryen, the first of his name, was dead.

As you stepped out onto the deck of one of Lord Darklyn’s several ships, that was the primary thought that reverberated within your mind.

Almost immediately, you spotted a few of Lord Darklyn’s men- the ones carrying out essential tasks to keep the ship sailing- but, like the rest of your traveling party, most of them were below deck, presumably asleep. Still, you would not be deterred. You wandered about aimlessly, your footfalls creating taps upon the planks beneath your feet, while the hull of a hip as a whole groaned as it cut through the waves.

Above you, the red, white, gold, and black banner of House Darklyn flew proudly. The rippling of the billowing sail joined the rocking waves and the croaking of the hull of the ship in filling the air of the otherwise silent night.

By the time you, Harwin, and the rest of your men had reached Duskendale, the young Lord Gunthor Darklyn had already set sail for Dragonstone. But his wife, the Lady Meredyth Darklyn, was as gracious a host as her husband. She apologized for his sudden departure, but insisted that time had been of the essence. To compensate for this, Lady Meredyth had extended the same protection her husband had offered your children and the rest of your party in Harwin’s temporary absence. Once you had reconvened with the rest of your party in Duskendale, she had offered you the use of one of her husband’s ships.

You had set sail for Dragonstone at once, despite it having been in the middle of the night.

Even now, you were still indebted to Lord Darklyn, as the ship sailed through the Narrow Sea under the protection of his house’s sigil. Any ships you happened across would be none the wiser to the guests currently aboard Lord Darklyn’s vessel. Most of your own banners had been destroyed back in Duskendale- save for two, one for House Tyrell, and one for House Strong. Once the ship neared Dragonstone, the two banners would be flown, but in the meantime, they’d been tucked away below deck. Being intercepted and caught with those in your possession could spell a great deal of trouble for all involved. The banners could be replaced; the lives of you and your traveling party could not.

It appeared that neither House Darklyn’s hospitality or generosity had been overstated by Princess Rhaenyra.

…

Queen Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra was now queen. The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

And King Viserys was dead. No man lived forever, but the implications of his passing had weighed heavily on your mind for many years. Now that the said implications lay right beneath your feet, you found yourself able to think of little else.

But of course, that was not the only thing that plagued your mind. There were the lifeless eyes of Ser Vaemond Velaryon. There was also the man whose face you did not know, but whose blood was on your hands. Several more troubling, if not downright terrifying, things.

…

You were pulled from your near-suffocating thoughts upon seeing the back of a familiar stature across the deck. The figure, donning his cloak, was facing away from you, looking out towards the sea.

Harwin.

You had awoken from a dreamless sleep to find the space on the bed beside you empty, and had suspected to find your husband here. However, that was not the sole reason you had chosen to rise from bed yourself. With all the thoughts plaguing your mind, it was little wonder that any sort of decent sleep had yet to find you that night. You had hoped, perhaps naively so, that a bit of fresh air would help calm you.

You were tempted to go to him, but without much deliberation at all, decided against it. It was best to leave Harwin to his own thoughts, at least for the time being. The horrid realization you had all made only a few short days ago impacted him more than anyone else.

You turned away from Harwin and took up post by the closest railing. With your hands firmly pressing into the wood beneath your fingers, you lifted your chin and looked up to the sky.

It was dark, but littered with a copious amount of stars. The moon, nearly full, provided one of the only sources of light around for several leagues. A few sparsely lit torches provided some guidance for those on the ship, but beyond that, it was nearly impossible to tell what lay ahead.

But you knew what was waiting for you. You may not have been able to see it yet, even if you were standing in the rays of the sun instead of the moon. You knew the predetermined destination that the ship would reach early on the morrow.

Dragonstone.

“Mother?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, despite the softness of your eldest son’s voice, for you had not even heard him approach. Your skirts rippled from the light wind and from the movement as Derrik came to stand beside you.

“Derrik,” you greeted him as you regained your composure. “What keeps you awake? The hour grows late.”

Derrik shrugged nonchalantly. He looked out and over the dark sea, just as you had a moment before, and refused to meet your eyes. “The same things as you, I suppose.”

He placed his hands on the railing to steady himself. As he did so, you stood up straight, mentally preparing yourself for what was sure to be an interesting, and perhaps challenging, conversation with your eldest son.

“I cannot stop thinking of what happened,” Derrik clarified. “About what could have happened… and what has yet to pass.”

You looked away, joining him in focusing upon the crashing waves as your guilt began to eat away at you once again.

After your near encounter with the Stranger, which was prevented only by the timely arrival of Harwin and several of his own men, you had made for Duskendale with great haste. When you arrived, your sons, who were well aware of the King’s abrupt passing and your obvious delay to rejoin them, were among those who gathered inside the gates of the Dun Fort to greet you.

The only comfort you could take from that moment was that Brynna had opted to stay within the keep with Luciya, and that your youngest had been spared from seeing you in such an alarming state.

“I should have ridden out with Father,” Derrick asserted, his voice suddenly severe. His knuckles whitened as his grip on the railing in front of him tightened with his conviction. “I would have been of far more use than I was in Duskendale, merely sitting around and waiting for you to return.”

You shook your head vehemently. “I would not have wished what we encountered on the road upon anyone, let alone you, Derrik.”

What a sight you must have been, riding through Duskendale and up to the gates of the Dun Fort with Harwin riding beside you, and the rest of your men flanking you on all sides. You could not have prevented Derrik and Selwin, who had joined those gathered to receive you, from seeing the ghastly amount of blood on your dress. But you so desperately wished you could have.

Derrik and Selwin were intelligent; in light of everything else, and the fact that you insisted that you were well and uninjured, it was easy enough for them to infer that something foul had befallen you.

“You’ve said so little about what actually happened… I can tell you do not wish to speak of it,” Derrik inferred, ever astute. “But, when you do wish to speak of it, I hope you know that I am here for you, Mother.”

You smiled sadly, sincerely touched by the gesture. “A generous offer, Derrik. But I would not burden you with it anymore than I already have.”

“You are my mother, not a burden.”

“I have your father I can speak to about it, when I am ready to do so.”

Derrik turned to look at you imploringly. “And who does he have?”

You turned, matching his stern and searching gaze. “He has us.”

Shortly after entering the Dun Fort, Derrik and Selwin had bombarded you with questions. You and Harwin had no choice but to take them straight to the chambers that Lord Darklyn had prepared for the both of you. Your sons deserved to know, no matter how difficult it was for you and Harwin to share, and for them to hear. You had sat them down, and proceeded to tell them the harrowing discovery that had been brought to light. When words began to fail Harwin, you had found them for him.

But you had spared your sons some of the details, for you could not bring yourself to admit that you had killed a man by your own hand. Even now, the dagger with which you had carried out the act was strapped to your side, hidden beneath your cloak. Despite the repulsiveness you intermittently felt about what you had done, you did not dare to go anywhere without the dagger in reach.

Derrik and Selwin may not have been told the entirety of what happened to you and your escort on the road. But they knew the core, fundamental truth.

Their uncle, Larys Strong, had betrayed you all.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what is running through Father’s mind.” Derrik looked away from you. Even from his side profile, you could tell that the look that washed over his face was a dark one. “The thought of Selwin doing something like that…” He shook his head. “‘Tis impossible to fathom.”

The thought of doing such a thing to Derrik’s namesake, your elder brother Derron, was impossible for you to fathom as well. You spared a glance over your shoulder, seeing that Harwin remained where you had seen him a few moments before, with his back still facing the two of you.

Your heart wrenched for him.

Harwin’s own brother, Larys, had attempted to kill your entire family in the Harrenhal fire. He had succeeded in killing their father, Lord Lyonel Strong, that very night. And, for reasons still not fully known to either of you, Larys had attempted to claim your life for a second time. The situation would be immensely difficult for anyone to fully comprehend, let alone someone like Harwin, who had always regarded his family, particularly his younger brother, as very dear to him.

There weren’t words fitting enough to describe what such a betrayal must have felt like.

“My uncle will pay,” Derrik vowed, his tone low and grave. “Justice will be served. Not only for Grandsire’s life, but for the attempts on all of our own. And he will answer for any other atrocities he may have committed, but which have yet to come to light.

How deep did your Good Brother’s foul plots run? … If Larys had been responsible for the fire at Harrenhal, then what of your brother, Lord Derron, and his mysterious sudden death? … And just where had your cousin Lord Garrett Redwyne, who had never been particularly ambitious, gotten the notion that the lordship of House Tyrell was available for the claiming after Derron’s passing? … And what of the misunderstanding that led to Lord Loreon Lannister accosting you the night before your wedding feast?

But did you even dare to go back that far? If you did, at what point would you realize that you and Harwin had been puppets controlled by Larys’s strings for years?

You nearly gagged.

“Do not allow your thirst for vengeance to consume you,” you pleaded with Derrik instead. “Doing so will blind you to most everything else. This is a dangerous time, and we need to be more present and aware of our surroundings than ever before.”

“Will there be war?”

You regarded him carefully.

Derrik had favored Harwin in looks more than he had ever favored you. But as to who he was, the person within- when you looked at Derrik, it often felt as though you were staring at your own reflection. Despite all the evidence suggesting the very conclusion that he had surmised, a gleam of small, yet indisputably hopeful optimism still clouded his hazel eyes. It was the same optimism a younger version of yourself had once held proudly- before the realities of the harsh world you lived in had forced you to abandon most of it.

Lying to Derrik would do him no favors. But neither would throwing him to the wolves.

You proposed, albeit half-heartedly, “Bloodshed is likely to be the last resort, not the initial course of action. The Queen may yet offer the Usurper generous terms.”

“Which he will undoubtedly reject, no matter how fair they may be,” Derrik denounced bitterly. “And what then? Will blood be spillled?”

Your small smile faded. “Mayhaps.”

Derrik nodded stiffly, and clenched his jaw.

“Nothing will happen to you,” you promised him quickly, wanting to dissuade any of his concerns. “Your father and I would not allow you anywhere near a battlefield.” Let alone one where dragons survey the skies above.

“I’m all but ten and seven, Mother, and a fair swordsman at that. Should war come, I will do my duty to defend our Houses, and our Queen.” Before you could protest, Derrik added, “But it is not myself whom I worry about… It’s you.”

You blinked, not having expected such a declaration from him.

Seeing your confusion, Derrik elaborated, “I worry for you. For Father. Selwin. Luciya. And everyone else dear to me. If the realm goes to war, you will all be in danger… And I am but one person. How can I ensure that all of you will be safe?”

A bittersweet smile played on your lips. You reached out and grabbed Derrik’s hand that was closest to you. “My Heart, it is not your job to protect us. It is your father and I’s responsibility to look after you. Though I am touched you feel so strongly about this, you are too young to shoulder such a heavy burden, so I bid you not.”

“I am all but ten and seven, Mother,” Derrik said for the second time, his patience never wavering.

Ten and seven. You had been so close to his age when you had first come to King’s Landing, all those years ago. That one event had set you all on the path that led you to be right where you were, at that precise moment. An ominously calm moment, on the precipice of something. War? Most possibly. Something far greater, by the way of the reign of the first Queen of the Seven Kingdoms? If the gods had any pity left for you, maybe.

“If anything should happen to you, what would I do?” Derrik wondered despondently. “Who would I be without my family?”

You pushed the dark thoughts down and away from the forefront of your mind. “You would be you, Derrik. You would be the young man your father and I raised. An intelligent, courteous, and loyal young man.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you pressed on.

“All this talk is premature,” you insisted earnestly, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “None of us can truly know what lies ahead, so there is little use in dreading it. Brace yourself for it, if you must. But do not burden yourself with worries that may never come to pass.”

Derrik mused over your words for a few moments, before eventually giving you a conceding nod.

You felt encouraged that your words had begun to resonate with him, even if they did not serve a dual purpose in alleviating your own worries. “I think you will feel more settled on the morrow, once we reach Dragonstone. We will be under Princess -the Queen’s- protection then. We will reaffirm our loyalty to her cause, and see how best we can serve it.”

“And then?”

… And what then?

You did not know.

Would second-born sons always be meant to bring doom upon their families?

Harwin was reluctant to put any merit into such an unprovable and unfair generalization, but he had truly begun to wonder.

King Viserys’s first born son, though also the second of all his children, was a usurper. The actions of his staunchest supporters and his mindless willingness to go along with them had put the entire realm right on the brink of war. By his failure to reject the ambitions of those around him, he had robbed his elder sister of her birthright. A birthright their shared father desired for no one else but her. He was a fool, and such foolishness had enabled him to become a witless participant in a scheme beyond his comprehension and traitor to the realm.

Harwin’s father, Lyonel Strong, was a second son. Had his uncle, Lyonel’s older brother, not been taken by the Stranger at such a young age, and without heirs of his own, his father most likely would have been alive, even to this day. Regardless, Lyonel would not have been encouraged to produce heirs of his own, and would have never sired a son who would so heartlessly orchestrate his downfall.

Larys. Perhaps the most damning evidence, if it could even be considered as such, for Harwin’s broad generalization. The second born son of a former Hand of the King. The Master of Whisperers for the same king his father had served. Perhaps Larys still served in that position for the Usurper.

But there was only one title that Harwin would ever acknowledge Larys Strong as again.

Kinslayer.

There weren’t enough feelings in the world to adequately describe how Harwin felt about the man who had once been his brother. The man whom Harwin had spent years of his youth looking out for, defending, and the man whom Harwin had always gone to great lengths to reassure that any inadequacy he might have felt was only imagined.

But if there was a primary feeling Harwin felt, it was pure, unbridled anger. As Harwin wrestled with his own thoughts, it was of little surprise that sleep had yet to find him. He’d been on the deck of Lord Darklyn’s ship for a while now, perhaps an hour or two. But Harwin would stay put and breathe in the salty air for as long as he needed to in order to feel something other than the dangerously stormy anger brewing within.

Said anger was now reserved solely for the scum that was Larys the Kinslayer. Not for you, or your children, or for anyone else traveling with you. If Harwin needed to keep some distance in order to refrain from outlashing upon an unintended recipient, then it was a necessary evil. Leaving you alone in bed while he carved some time for himself did not sit well with Harwin, but he would live with it readily if it meant you’d be spared witnessing just how much damage Larys’s blow had done to him.

You did not need a husband who was distracted with a desire to deal out personal justice, or a husband completely devastated by the betrayal of someone he had once held so dear. You had taken another’s life with your own hands, even though it was completely in your own self defense. Harwin was relieved that you had been able to do what needed to be done to protect yourself, but that did not make a difference in how you felt about it.

You need Harwin to be strong, now more than ever.

… So why was he here, up on the deck of Lord Darklyn’s ship, and away from you?

Further internal reflection could wait until later. The closer the ship grew to Dragonstone, the further you and the rest of your family were out of the Usurper’s grasp, and the more at ease Harwin began to feel. It was all a bit ironic, considering what was looming on the horizon.

Harwin turned away from the sea, and made to head back below deck. However, the sight of you and Derrik across the way made him pause. How long had the two of you been up here, whilst he was completely consumed in his own thoughts?

He walked across the deck with light steps, not wishing to disturb whatever conversation the two of you found yourselves in at this late hour.

“... I think you will feel more settled on the morrow, once we reach Dragonstone,” you were saying to Derrik. “We will be under Princess -the Queen’s- protection then. We will reaffirm our loyalty to her cause, and see how best we can serve it.”

“And then?” Derrick questioned.

“We will cross that bridge once we’ve reached it,” Harwin answered.

Despite the softness of his tone, Harwin couldn’t help but notice how you and Derrik flinched at the sound of his voice. It faintly wondered what subject the two of you had been discussing prior to him announcing his presence.

“Good evening, Father,” Derrik greeted him, recovering from his slight startle with ease. “We were just taking in a breath of fresh air.”

“As was I,” Harwin lied. His eyes briefly scanned the area, before finally landing back on Derrik. “Where is Selwin?”

It was a fair question; when it came to your sons, where there was one, the other was usually not far behind.

But in response, Derrik shook his head. “He is doing a much better job at trying to sleep than what I have the patience for.”

A soft smile threatened to break through Harwin’s otherwise brooding composure at the thought.

Upon Lord Darklyn receiving word of the death of the King, both Derrik and Selwin had insisted on riding out with Harwin to find you and the escort on the road. Derrik had been difficult enough to persuade to remain behind in Duskendale; convincing Selwin to do the same had been nearly impossible. Your youngest son had a fire within him that reminded Harwin so greatly of the one he harbored within himself. It was a fire fueled by loyalty and the desire to fiercely protect one’s own. Selwin, like Harwin, wore his heart on his sleeve. He was no lamb in sheep’s clothing, like Larys had revealed himself to be. Selwin was not capable of the treachery that his uncle had devised.

No, Harwin happily amended mentally. Not all second sons are destined to bring ruin upon their kin.

“Let us hope his efforts are not futile,” Harwin suggested. “We could all do with a good night’s rest.”

Whilst we still can. Those were the unspoken words that lingered uncomfortably for a few fleeting moments.

“I shall try and follow his example then,” Derrik agreed, breaking the mild tension. “Good night, Mother, Father.”

“Sleep well,” you told him, smiling lightly when Derrik kissed you fondly on the cheek.

Harwin also mustered up a small smile to give Derrik, and clapped him briefly on the shoulder as the younger man passed him. As Derrik walked away, Harwin turned his full attention to you.

It must have been a skill, Harwin supposed. Or, rather, simply a natural talent. Whatever it was, you looked as beautiful as ever, and effortlessly so, despite the horrors you both witnessed and experienced over the past few weeks. As you stood before him, the moonlight bathed you in a subtle but attractive light.

But when your eyes flickered up to meet his own, Harwin noticed immediately that they betrayed your otherwise serene and undisturbed appearance. Such sadness, stress, and mayhaps grief, lingered in your eyes, the likes of which Harwin had been fortunate enough to seldom see. In fact, the last time you had looked at him in such a way, you had just lost your brother, and were torn between fighting your cousin, Lord Garrett Redwyne, for possession of House Tyrell’s titles and holdings, or simply giving up. You had been seeking answers.

Perhaps you were seeking them again.

“You could not sleep either?” Harwin deduced.

You shook your head, turning to face the railing once again. Harwin stepped forward, coming to a stop beside you. Your arms brushed against one another’s due to the close proximity, but neither of you felt particularly inclined to move or step away.

Harwin looked over at you, but your gaze had returned to the dark waves before the pair of you. The hypnotic swirling movements spanned as far as the eye could see. There was no land, nor anything other to focus on. Only waves. Only darkness.

“Talk to me,” Harwin begged gently.

You clenched your jaw, still refusing to meet his eyes. “‘Tis nothing to speak of.”

“If that is truly how you feel about it, then I shall be gravely concerned for you.”

At Harwin’s poor attempt at a joke, you tore your eyes away from the sea and looked up at him. You gave him a disapproving look, but Harwin could’ve sworn that the heavy look in your eyes was lightened- if only a little bit.

“Please,” Harwin coaxed softly, hoping the break in your reserve would encourage you to continue to lower your heightened guard. “If speaking about it will help-”

“Lord Husband, you have just discovered that your brother conspired to have us killed, succeeded in killing your father, and attempted to take my own life once more. And yet you wish to discuss how I am feeling?”

“Yes,” Harwin asserted firmly, ignoring the twinge of hurt he felt at the use of such formality. “I can not bear the thought of you suffering in silence, My Love.”

You looked away from him once again and shook your head to yourself.

It was hardly appropriate conversation to have over dinner. But there had been some nights, when the memories became too much, too burdensome to contain with the perils of his own mind, when Harwin confided to you about it. Harwin had been Lord Commander of the City Watch, and had served on it for years prior to his promotion. He might not have commanded with the iron fist that his predecessors had, but he never shied away from doing what needed to be done. He’d been trained with weapons at a young age, and had grown up the eldest son and heir of a lord who was expected to carry out justice in the name of the King within the border of his own lands. He’d been knighted, and had participated in many dangerous tournaments over the years.

Harwin had witnessed a great deal of death in his life. And some of those deaths had been by his own hand.

Killing in the name of justice or honor did not make it any easier for Harwin to rationalize or accept what he had needed to do. And, he imagined, killing in the name of self-defense would not make it any more tolerable either.

“There is more blood on my hands than your own,” Harwin reminded you somberly, the volume of his voice softening significantly under the pure weight of his words. “I understand how impossible it may seem to wash it all away, despite the urge you may feel to rid yourself of the memory. If you need more time to mull it over, then take it. But I beg of you, please do not keep it all to yourself. You cannot simply ignore it- I know this, because I have tried. If you never face it, it will drown you.”

You clenched your jaw tighter.

For a few moments, all was quiet. The longer you did not speak, the more Harwin’s concern for you grew. If there was one thing that could overpower his desire to avenge his father, it would be his pure care and love for you.

Finally, you sighed. “Every time I close my eyes, I see his.” Abruptly, you turned, and looked up at Harwin with a pleading, almost pained look. “And when I do not see his, I see Ser Vaemond’s instead.”

Rumors about the unfavorable conclusion of the Driftmark succession petition had reached Duskendale only a day or two after Ser Vaemond’s head was detached from his shoulders, courtesy of Prince Daemon. Harwin knew you would not have been likely to be far from Princess Rhaenyra’s side during the petition, which led him to the inevitable conclusion that you were likely to have witnessed the grotesque act. Another horrendous and, frankly, unnecessary, chain of events that you had bore witness to over the past few weeks, and largely in part to the impulsivity of Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Harwin had many things he wished to say to Prince Daemon. Unfortunately, not many of them were likely to come to fruition, given the man’s recent escalation to Prince Consort.

Harwin could not, and would not, lie to you. “They will likely haunt you for some time.”

You did not look pleased by this, but neither did you look particularly surprised.

“The memories may be foul, but they serve a purpose,” Harwin contended delicately. “They prove that you have compassion. Guilt, even. It stands to reason that, had there been any other way, you might have taken it. But make no mistake, Y/N- there was no other way. Not this time.”

“Will it ever stop?” you wondered, your voice wavering with emotion. “Will I ever stop reliving what I’ve seen? What I’ve done?”

Harwin wished for little else in that moment but to find it within himself to lie to you. What he would do to give you whatever little comfort he could in this particularly trying time. But if it was a false hope, it would not be worth offering at all.

“You will always remember, but the shock will fade with time. You come to terms with it; you accept that it cannot be undone.”

Once more, you did not look pleased nor surprised. Rather, you looked resigned. “... Thank you, Harwin. I do not believe this is the last we will speak of the matter. But your words have helped, if only for tonight.”

Of course, Harwin would have wished for you to feel more reassured than for merely the span of the night, but that was a tall ask. He would not count it as a loss, and would be content with helping to soothe what plagued you in the time being, no matter how little it was.

It felt that the conversation had reached a natural conclusion. But just as Harwin was about to suggest that you both return back to your temporary quarters to retire, you continued.

“And what of you?”

Harwin froze. “What of me?”

“You insult me to think I am so foolish, Dearest. How fair is it for you to offer me words of comfort in my time of need, but to not have the same courtesy extended to you?”

Harwin was given a small start when you suddenly placed your hand on top of his own.

“Please,” you steadfastly bid him. “The revelation that your brother is not who you believed him to be is deeply troubling, but you need not conceal your thoughts about it for my sake. I can see how deep his betrayal has wounded you. Our sons can see it. And I am certain even Luciya can sense something is amiss.”

You were stubborn. But Harwin loved you for it. “... I would not even know where to begin.”

“You can begin by telling me what you wrote to him.”

May the gods have mercy on you, for I will not.

That was what Harwin had written to Larys, amongst other things.

Upon the realization that both scrolls found on two of the men who had waylaid your traveling party en route to Duskendale bore Larys’s seal, Harwin could not have torn them open fast enough.

Larys must have made himself out to be a clever man by having given his men the letters, each addressed to Harwin, and each able to have been sent on by raven once the task was done. Given their varying contents, one would have been selected depending on the course of action his tongue-less men had deemed appropriate to take. While one had conveyed Larys’s deepest sympathies that he had discovered you’d been killed in a skirmish during a robbery gone astray, the other regretfully informed Harwin that you had been taken hostage by the brigands instead.

But Larys was not clever enough. Keeping the firefly pin a secret between Harwin, you, and his steward and castellan, Lord Dannis, had proven to be most wise. Had Larys discovered the connection you and Harwin had made between it and the fire at Harrenhal, he might not have been so bold whilst devising his most recent attempt on your life.

Harwin made the most of the opportunity to write a short, but plain, letter back to his brother. He had not even bothered to sign or seal it, but Larys would not be able to mistake who had sent it.

You had read both of Larys’s scrolls, but Harwin had not shown you what he had penned back to the Kinslayer. The raven carrying the message had departed Duskendale for King’s Landing just as you departed Duskendale for Dragonstone. Larys most likely would have received it by already. Harwin could not deny that the thought of Larys pacing restlessly in the Red Keep as the realization that his wicked schemes had been found out brought Harwin some joy.

“He knows that I am aware of what he has done,” Harwin paraphrased his letter, ultimately deciding that revealing the entirety of his words was moot. Then, another thought crossed his mind, and he grimaced. “But perhaps I was too careless with my words. Keeping Larys in the dark, at least for a few days, might have offered us an advantage against him.”

You gripped his hand more firmly. “No. Let him toil away for now, knowing that justice will be had.”

Harwin had thought, more than once, about sending you and your children onwards to Dragonstone whilst he returned to King’s Landing alone. The thought of barging into the Red Keep and dragging Larys out to face that justice was extremely appealing. But Harwin knew, beyond a doubt, that if he stormed through the gates of the Red Keep, he would not be simply allowed to leave. He was the Lord of Harrenhal now, a lord suspected by many, for more reasons than one, to be unwaveringly loyal to Queen Rhaenyra. The Usurper would leap at the chance to lock him away in the dungeons, at least until he thought of a way he could be use to serve his false cause.

A day would come when vengeance could be served, and Larys would be paid his due. But, much to Harwin’s chagrin, that day would have to wait.

“You should write to your sisters,” you suggested to him. “They deserve to know the truth about Larys.”

Harwin glanced at you anxiously, and his shoulders tensed. With all his mental turmoil, he had yet to consider how his sisters may react to the news. “Do you truly think they will believe me? It will be my word against his. Larys has had us fooled for years, My Love- who is to say his venomous words will not charm our sisters and turn them against me?”

“And what could Larys say to sway them?” you countered. “That you’ve gone mad? You’ve never given either of your sisters a reason to fear you, My Love. I do not believe that would start now. And, should they be insistent on proof, we still have the other letter in our possession.”

Harwin took care to choose which one of his brother’s letters he would return back to him, and kept the most damning one for himself. He’d tucked it safely away amongst his few traveling possessions, where it would remain. The letter, written in Larys’s own hand and which detailed your death, which had yet to actually transpire, was likely to raise some questions at the very least.

“Your sisters deserve to be informed of such a thing in person,” you acquiesced thoughtfully. “But that is a luxury that we cannot afford now. Write to them- tell them the truth, and warn them of what we suspect will soon come, so that their houses can start their own preparations.”

Successfully convincing Lilyan and Eyla that their brother orchestrated the murder of Lord Lyonel would appease Harwin some, but it would never be enough. Even if Harwin could find it somewhere deep within himself to one day forgive Larys of such an atrocity, that was not the whole of Larys’s sins.

The failure to properly execute a plan could not erase the intent of it. The fire at Harrenhal had been orchestrated to eliminate you all. Larys had meant to kill you. He had meant to rid himself of your sons.

And for that, Larys could rot in the deepest pit of the Seven Hells for all eternity.

“That will not be enough to satisfy,” Harwin confided to you in a dark, low tone.

“Once this business with the Usurper has been dealt with, the Queen shall hold them all accountable for their crimes. The Master of Whisperers may receive a trial, but the truth cannot be soiled. Larys will meet his deserved end.”

Harwin paused to allow the deeper meaning of your words sink in.

Larys would die.

But what all would transpire before that came to pass?

Suddenly, a particularly strong gust of wind came barreling through. As you readjusted your grip on the railing, Harwin placed a hand at the small of your back to keep you steady. Once the wind had passed, you shivered.

Without a thought, Harwin unfastened and shrugged off his traveling cloak. Ignoring your feeble protests, he placed it over your shoulders. His hands remained there for a few moments past what would have been necessary to secure the fabric.

“Thank you,” you told him, speaking so softly Harwin had to strain to hear you over the noise of the waves. “But I have little need for two cloaks, and without one of your own, you will catch a chill.”

“If that is the cost for ensuring you will not, then it is a price I do not mind paying.”

For the second time, Harwin felt the conversation had reached its natural conclusion. But then, you took a slow step to the side, creeping your way towards him. He lifted an arm and could not help but chuckle at your thinly veiled attempt to be subtle about it. Once you tucked yourself into his side, Harwin dropped his arm, securing you to him.

You had both been through great ordeals. It was, almost fearfully so, too easy to forget that it had been weeks since you had had a true moment alone. A moment unencumbered by the most recent conversations of traveling, betrayal, usurpation, or war. A moment where the two of you could just be.

“I do not think I have ever felt more relieved than when I realized it was not too late,” Harwin found himself saying.

Finding you amidst a struggle with a mysterious attacker was frightening enough, but you were alive, and at that moment, after weeks of tormenting himself about the extent of your wellbeing, that was all that had mattered to Harwin. The fear of not finding you, or worse, finding you after something grave had befallen you and your escort on the road, still haunted him.

You burrowed your head into his chest to make yourself more comfortable. “As was I. What use would I be to our Queen if I had fallen into the clutches of the Greens?”

Harwin could not help but be appalled by your words. Did you truly not understand? Though loyalty was admirable, the severity of the situation could not be ignored.

Harwin tightened his hold on you. “You could have died.”

“I know,” you breathed shakily. “It’s just… easier to entertain the alternative.”

Harwin understood that feeling all too well.

You wrapped your arms around his middle. As if it were even possible, you pressed yourself further into his side. “I am truly sorry about your brother, Dearest.”

“Don’t be,” Harwin replied, speaking truthfully. “He may be of my blood, but he is no brother of mine. I still have my family, my true family. And I still have you. That is all that matters.”

For a few minutes, the two of you stood there in a comfortable silence.

“These are dark times we’ve found ourselves in,” you mused joylessly.

Harwin sighed. “Aye.”

“All of this mess, is it worth it? Is all this misery we’ve endured worth whatever awaits us beyond?”

“We are no oathbreakers,” Harwin reminded you, treading lightly. “We chose this path years ago.”

“But what if we chose wrong?”

Harwin was stunned to a loss for words at your suggestion. You had rarely expressed any doubt in supporting Princess Rahenyra, and for as long as Harwin had known you, you had known her.

Eventually, Harwin pondered, “How could we have chosen wrong, if we chose to walk this path together?”

You contemplated his words.

“It would serve neither of us to dwell on the past,” Harwin discouraged, pulling you even closer still. “This path we have chosen might not be easy. But it is what we have chosen.”

There was another choice before you now. Formally pledged oaths and informally reassurances of loyalty aside, the question was a simple one.

Aegon, or Rhaenyra? … The Usurper, or your friend?

“What do you think awaits us at Dragonstone?” you asked him then.

Harwin did not fail to notice your convenient change in rhetoric, but he would not press the matter. “If Lord Darklyn could not delay his own departure to Dragonstone, even for a day or two so that we might have joined him, then the situation must be dire.”

“I should write to my uncle. If war is upon us, he needs to know.”

Harwin understood your sense of urgency. Dragons were one thing, but armies were another. If Oldtown deposed reinforcements to King’s Landing to defend the Usurper’s claim, Highgarden, fixed along the Rose Road, would be in their direct path.

“And you shall,” Harwin assured you. “On the morrow.”

There were no ravens aboard that were available to carry such a message.

Fortunately, you did not disagree. Instead, you gave him a relenting nod. “It seems that a lot of hope has been placed on our issues being resolved ‘on the morrow’.”

“As you told our son- we shall at least feel more at ease.”

You scoffed. “Excellent. Well, now that you’ve put it that way, I look forward to it earnestly.”

Harwin must’ve made a strange face, for as soon as you saw it, your own expression softened. As you turned to face him fully, the sarcasm faded quickly, leaving only empathy in its wake.

You placed your hands on his chest and looked up to him with wide eyes. “Forgive me.”

The corners of Harwin’s mouth twitched as he covered your hands with his own. “There is nothing to forgive, My Love.”

And when you stood on your toes to press a tender kiss to his lips, it was incredibly easy for Harwin to imagine that the two of you were somewhere, anywhere else. Not sailing towards an uncertain fate.

What he would have given to turn back time, if only a month or two. What he would have given to have you and your children back in Highgarden, away from what was becoming an increasingly volatile world. What he would have given to have spared you the horrors you had endured.

What he would give to have the opportunity to knock some sense into himself, to force open his own eyes and take a deeper, more insightful look at his brother.

The path you had chosen to walk together had taken its toll. Most of the wounds had healed, though the scars of them would always remain. But, as Harwin had argued, you had chosen to walk the path together. You would not abandon the path now, not when the end was so near. However strenuous the final stretch of it would be, you would continue to draw your strength from each other.

You pulled away first, but did not stray far. Your next words escaped you in a hushed whisper. “Whatever comes next, promise me that we’ll face it together?”

“Together,” Harwin avowed, knowing no other way.

The sun had just begun to rise over the island of Dragonstone.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon had already been awake for some time, but the lightening of the sky gave him a proper excuse to finally slip from his chambers.

He found who he needed to without much searching; it seemed there were many walking about the castle as of late, even at early hours of the morning. Almost all of them would jump at any chance to be of service. Jacaerys gave the order to his mother’s- well, perhaps now his- steward, and did not dawdle long after giving it, lest it be protested.

The Queen was not to be disturbed.

Of course, his mother had no idea of Jacaerys’s command. In fact, once she learned of it, she was likely to be cross with him. But Jacaerys would willingly subject himself to her scolding, for he felt it was for the best.

The day before had been difficult. Terribly so.

In the morning, they had given the funeral rights before a much, much too small pyre for his sister. Visenya, his mother had named her. By midday, Ser Erryk Cargyll had arrived from King’s Landing to present his mother with the crown of the Old King. It was same crown his own grandsire had worn for six and twenty years, and his great-great-grandsire for five and fifty years before that. By the afternoon, most everyone had gathered in the Chamber of the Painted Table, where strategizing waged on for what felt like a few more hours. Lord Otto Hightower’s arrival on the shores of Dragonstone in the evening brought that discussion to a grinding halt. He’d delivered proposed terms of peace to the Queen, and to the rest of her pledged supporters who had not already received them. No one had felt like reconvening after that.

Three days. His mother had promised the Usurper’s Hand that the Greens would have their answer in three days. In three days, it would be known whether the realm was to go to war.

But until the Sea Snake arrived, or until the scouts his mother had sent to the mainland to locate and retrieve their additional key allies returned, it felt as if all further progress at amassing support for the Queen’s cause was at a standstill. And so far, there had yet to be word on either of those fronts.

No need for his mother to rise any earlier than what she might naturally. If Jacaerys could do her this small kindness, it would be more than worthwhile. His mother was the Queen, and the Seven Kingdoms were hers to protect now. But she had also protected Jacaerys his entire life. Now that he was nearly a man grown, it was high time for him to return the favor.

With the Queen indisposed with sleep, only Prince Daemon might have been able to undermine Jacaerys’s command to leave her undisturbed. It was most fortunate that his step-father was doing… only the gods knew whatever he was doing, coming and going from the castle at all hours, and as he saw fit. Jacaerys could only hope that he wasn’t off threatening even more of the limited few who had already pledged their support. That would be the easiest way to invoke the wrath of the Queen.

There was already tension between them, between his mother and step-father. But Jacaerys could not discern the real cause. Was it the loss of their daughter, the death of their father and brother respectively, or another matter altogether?

The only comfort Jacerys took was, although his step-father was undoubtedly plotting for someone, he could not possibly be plotting for the Greens. The Greens might welcome many of the Queen’s defectors to their side in the days to come, but so deep was the history between the Rogue Prince and the Usurper’s Hand, Prince Daemon would never be one of them.

Finally alone with his thoughts, Jacaerys leaned against the stone barrier of a balcony that looked out and over the sea. With some good winds and a fair amount of luck, vessels bearing the Sea Snake’s banner would sail through the waters by the end of the day.

A small glance at the sky behind him, all the way across to the other side of the castle, proved his suspicions. Nearly a day had passed, and yet the faint white wisps of smoke rose into the pink sky.

What remained of Princess Visenya Targaryen’s funeral pyre still simmered.

Jacaerys turned back away. What he would give to take to the skies with Vermax at that moment. Being on dragonback and looking down at the world, where even something as grand as the castle looked miniscule, had an uncanny way of clearing one’s mind.

But that was not possible. Not today. With his mother taking a well-deserved rest, Jacaerys knew he needed to be on the ground and easily within reach, in case there happened to be need of him. At least he could carve away a few moments of calm peace, before the rest of the castle began to truly stir.

And peace he had, until a small movement beside him gently nudged him from his heavy thoughts. Jacaerys turned towards the oncomer and was surprised at who he saw beside him.

“Luke,” he greeted. He shifted, taking his weight off his forearms, which had been resting on the barrier before him, and rose to his full height. “I did not expect you to be up at this hour.”

“Nor I you,” his younger brother replied, avoiding his gaze.

An awkward tension fell over them.

“Did you sleep well?”

Lucerys’s answer was quick and resolved. “No.”

“Me neither.”

The awkwardness dissipated, and when Lucerys finally turned to meet his eyes, he gave a small smile, which was easy for Jacaerys to return.

“Before too much time has passed, there is something I wished to tell you,” Jacaerys said then, carefully adjusting his tone so as to properly convey his sincerity. “I wanted to apologize for the other day. How I behaved… it was uncalled for.”

Jacaerys was not sure what had gotten a hold of him. He and his brother had been sparring with one another since they were young boys, and none of those bouts had ever resulted as it had two days ago. Never before had Jacaerys knocked his younger brother down to the sand, nor yanked him around, let alone so roughly. Jacaerys supposed that he had yet to recover the involuntary exposure to his uncles in King’s Landing, which had brought out the worst in him. But even if that were so, Lucerys had not been deserving of the treatment he’d received.

“You are a prince,” Lucerys disagreed. A true peacekeeper, he was. It was little wonder mother tended to favor him; Jacaerys would have done the same, if he’d had a son like that.

“As are you.”

“You are the Prince,” Lucerys amended, uncharacteristically stoic. “The Heir to the Iron Throne, future Lord of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Jacaerys countered, “And who was I before?”

Lucyers waited for his response.

“Your brother,” Jacaerys answered, clapping a firm hand on his shoulder. “Whether they call us princes or bastards, whether I am to be a king someday or nothing at all, none of that matters to me. None of that matters, so long the histories remember I was your brother in the end.”

He could tell his words touched Lucerys deeply; the rising sun did little to mask the water behind his younger brother’s eyes. But Jacaerys would not speak of that. By the old gods and the new, never again would he belittle Lucerys so.

“My Prince!”

Jacaerys dropped his hand and turned towards the call.

It was Baela.

There he was, at nearly ten and seven, and just the sight of his recently betrothed had the tendency to make him grin like a love-stricken boy.

“Good morrow, Lady Baela!” Jacaerys greeted her heartily. He did a double take as he took in her appearance. Baela was walking towards them, taking off her gloves one by one. Her silvery white curls, riding cloak, and dress fanned out behind her with the winds that blew in from the sea. She looked rather majestic, but Jacaerys would have rather been caught dead before he dared to make such a declaration in the presence of his younger brother.

Seven Hells, Baela herself might have even thumped him upside the head for it.

“Did you go for a ride this morning?” Lucerys asked her politely, also having noted her unusual state of dress for the early hour.

Moondancer was not the biggest of their dragons, but had recently grown large enough to seat her rider. And Baela had taken advantage of that development as much as her young dragon’s stamina had allowed.

Baela nodded. “I thought I might keep an eye out for Grandsire’s fleet.”

“Any sight of it?”

“No,” Baela answered, the disappointment evident in her voice. “However, I did spot a lone ship, with its course leading straight here. I knew I needed to return at once.”

Jacaerys frowned. The Usurper’s Hand had not been gone half a day, and his mother had told him she would need three in order to consider the proposed terms. Surely the Usurper was not so conniving, nor stupid, to send a single vessel to Dragonstone for the sake of merely antagonizing the Queen? If it was an enemy ship, it would never even reach the harbor.

“What is the banner being flown?” Jacaerys implored.

“The sail was of House Darklyn’s,” Baela recounted. “Was Lord Gunthor expecting more men?”

“Not that I can recall.” Perhaps it was a ploy or something of the sort.

Jacaerys turned with the intention to head back inside, rouse his mother, and inform her of the news. But when Baela reached out a hand to stop him, he halted at once.

“There were two others,” she told him. “They were smaller banners, like what soldiers might carry. I did not dare to fly too low or too close, but I could make out the colors.”

“What were they?”

“One was a golden sigil on a field of green.”

Jacaerys looked to his younger brother, who gave him a knowing look. He looked back to Baela. “And the other?”

“It was blue, red-”

“And green?” Lucerys interjected hopefully. “On a field of white?”

Baela looked stunned. “Yes.”

For the first time in days, Jacaerys let out a small laugh. Upon seeing Baela’s confusion from his understandably bizarre response, he explained, “There is no need to worry, for that is no enemy ship.”

It was plain to see that Baela was not entirely reassured. “There are so many house sigils, My Prince. You cannot know them all.”

“I do not,” Jacaerys admitted. “But I know of two houses whose members were recently due to be hosted by Lord Gunthor. The same two we have hoped would soon reach our shores.”

Jacaerys turned back to his brother next. Lucerys looked about as happy as Jacaerys felt.

“Go to the Queen,” he bid Lucerys, “Tell her what Baela has seen. I will alert the guards and greet our guests myself.”

“Come here, Lucy.”

The young Lord Derrik Strong smiled as he took his younger sister into his arms.

You had all arrived in the harbor at Dragonstone shortly after the sun had risen. Since the arrival had not been previously announced, there were no horses, carriages, or other means by which to make traveling with everyone’s belongings up to the castle more feasible. The majority of the traveling party had elected to remain behind until such assistance could be procured, while the rest of you were to head onwards on foot.

The walk from the harbor to the gates of the castle was not a long one, at just under half a league. But the youngest among you would not be able to make the walk herself, and leaving her behind with the rest of the party was simply out of the question. Neither you, Harwin, Selwin, or Derrik could ask Brynna to carry Luciya all that way, even if the loyal nursemaid might have done so.

Instead, Derrik took turns with his brother carrying and otherwise entertaining their sister for the short trek. Every now and then, you and Harwin would spare a glance behind you at your children, ready to take over and assist with Luciya if needed.

But you and Harwin had enough on your mind at the moment, and an undoubtedly long day ahead of you. If Derrik could keep his sister preoccupied, it would be the least he could do for you.

You had visited Dragonstone once or twice with Princess Rhaenyra- when she had only been the princess- in your youth. Over the years, you had come to tell Derrik and Selwin many tales of it. But no amount of whimsical words could have prepared Derrik for the sheer grandness of the land before him.

Behind the castle, still some ways ahead, looming tall and imposing, the Dragonmont kissed the sky. The blackened smoke rising from its depths created streaks against what would have otherwise been a clear blue.

The castle itself was fodder for awe due the splendorous architecture. Many dragons, carved from the very stone that built up the island, had been installed in its foundations. They rivaled the size of the few dragons Derrik had seen in his lifetime, but were most likely small in comparison to the other dragons of old.

Unfortunately, the impressive scenery had caused more harm than good for others. It was of little wonder how a babe as young as Luciya could not appreciate the finer aspects of the castle’s design. The dragons in particular seemed to pose a viable threat.

Luciya turned and buried her face in Derrik’s shoulder. He could tell she was on the verge of tears by her audible sniffling, and Derrik reacted hastily, wanting to avoid such an outcome. He patted her lightly on the back, saying, “There, there, Lucy. You have no reason to fear the dragons. They will not harm you.”

At his words, Luciya lifted her head cautiously, but her lip still quivered.

“They are good,” Selwin added helpfully, simplifying Derrik’s words so that she might understand. “They will keep us safe.”

Fortunately, it worked, and their sister did not cry. But once she had buried her head in Derrik’s shoulder once more, she did not lift it again.

Only when they had reached the castle’s guarded entrance gate and had begun to make their way across the bridge did Derrik and Selwin give in to Brynna’s insistence. He managed to hand his sister off to her nursemaid without a fuss from Luciya.

As the small group crossed the bridge, Derrik took a moment to fully appreciate the full vision of the castle. But the closer they drew, the more his eyes trailed downwards. Many guards stood tall at the foot of the castle. Most donned the Targaryen red and black, but there appeared to be several White Cloaks among them. In the middle of them all stood a lone figure, positioned right at the bottom of the castle steps.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.

It had been years, but Derrik would have been able to recognize his childhood companion anywhere.

Prince Jacaerys looked most pleased as they approached. It was a sentiment that Derrik wished to return, but then he caught sight of you.

As you walked, you looked over to the right of the castle steps. A small trail, lined with large slabs of jagged rock, led to a small stone altar. The surface of the stone was lined layer upon layer with what appeared to be hardened wax. On top of the altar, what looked like remnants of a fire simmered with a faint and dull orange glow. Little remained of whatever had been aflame, but even now, small tufts of white smoke rose into the sky.

Whatever the altar before you had been used for, Derrik could tell that you were deeply disturbed by it. Your jaw clenched, your eyes hardened. When you turned back to face the prince, your neck tilted stiffly. Derrik continued to watch carefully as Harwin looked at you concernedly with unspoken questions lingering in his eyes.

The group came to a halt before Prince Jacaerys, and for a brief moment, all was still. Then, in unison, the ladies of the group curtsied, while the men among you bowed.

“Our deepest condolences for the loss of your grandsire, My Prince,” you said to him as you rose back to your normal height. Your voice sounded a bit strained. “King Viserys was a good, kind man. The realm shall mourn his loss for many years.”

Prince Jacaerys nodded to you cordially. “You are too kind, Lady Tyrell… Lord Harwin.” The look on Prince Jacaerys’s face as he appraised Derrik’s father was indiscernible, but it was soon replaced with a polite smile. “Know that you and your companions are most welcome on Dragonstone. I have already sent horses and carriages to retrieve those who remained at the harbor. In the meantime, the rest of you will be shown to your quarters.”

Prince Jacaerys gestured to a few of the knights around him, who immediately stepped forward and began to address others among the group.

“Lady Tyrell, Lord Strong,” Prince Jacacarys called then, “If you will follow me. The Queen will wish to speak with you at once.”

The Dragonstone throne within the Great Hall of the Stone Drum was second in splendor only to the Iron Throne. Large slabs of black stone, masoned from the same rock that had been carved from the Dragonmont, fixed it to be a rather intimidating structure.

But neither you nor Harwin had more than a few brief moments to admire it before a door on the opposite end of the room opened.

Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen stepped out of the shadows and into the small streams of light that filtered into the room. As she strode over to the two of you, she subtly commanded every bit of attention and respect with which her new title bestowed upon her. She was dressed in a narrow black gown, which flowed minimally behind her with each step.

Most oddly, her hands did not come to rest upon her stomach. That gesture had always been a habit of hers whenever she was with child. It was a habit she still indulged in, as you had noted during your short time in King’s Landing over a week prior. Instead, her hands swayed by her side, with her thumbs hidden beneath tightly clenched fists. Naturally, your focus drifted towards inwards, towards her middle.

When you realized how truly thin she looked, you almost choked on the horrid feeling that suddenly overcame you.

The altar. The pyre.

As Queen Rhaenyra came to a halt before you and Harwin, your mouth felt dry, and your gaze fell down to the ground beneath your feet. Harwin kneeled beside you. You tucked your chin and forced your legs to bend as you followed his example.

“My Queen.”

You rose slowly, but were encouraged to move more swiftly when the Queen gently pulled you up to your feet and embraced you. For a moment, the two of you stood still. You knew you ought to have said something, anything. Perhaps you should have offered your condolences on the loss of her father… or perhaps you should have extended your deepest sympathies for the second loss you now suspected she had suffered. But you could not. You did not dare to move or speak, not unless she did.

When Rhaenyra finally pulled away, she kept a hold on your arms. Her eyes shone with a mixture of sadness and relief. “It is so good to see you again, my friend.” She looked over to your husband, and gave him a soft smile. “And you, Lord Harwin.”

Harwin bowed his head respectfully.

“I am glad to see the two of you safe… And what of your children?”

“They are well, Your Grace,” Harwin promised her.

The Queen beamed at his words, though her eyes still shone with something more somber. Seemingly invigorated, she turned back to you. “Come now, my friends. There is much to discuss.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know any and all of your thoughts. I hope you all have a wonder end of the week!🖤

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douma-daisy · 1 year

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Breaking Limits (Ch. 1)

[Giyuu Tomioka x Reader]

Summary: Struggling with something blocking you from reaching your full potential, you turn to the calm yet powerful water hashira for help. He himself is battling unfamiliar feelings brought on by his constant isolation, or so he thinks. Your best friend, Ailyna (eye-lee-nuh), tries to help the both of you, but is also caught in her own internal battle to move on from a failed mission. All the while, the war against the demons rages on.

Word Count: 3,214

Warnings: canon-level explicitness (injury, death, etc); no explicit spoilers (this may or may not change for future chapters)

All Chapters | Previous | Next (coming soon) | Ao3

Note: This may look familiar because I posted a different version before, but decided to revamp it and change my direction slightly so I have a better idea of where this story will go.

You struggled to maintain your total concentration breathing as you chased a demon through a forest while being pursued by another. Though you wanted to stay focused on the mission, you couldn’t help but wonder if the water hashira, who you were assisting on this mission, was judging your shortcomings as you constantly felt his piercing blue eyes glance in your direction. Giyuu Tomioka was always so calm and collected. Even now as he faced off with a third demon, his face was emotionless and his movements steady.

Compared to him, you felt like a flailing fool, no better than when you’d first picked up a katana. You’d volunteered to go on this mission specifically to show off your skills so maybe he’d agree to help you improve them. You furrowed your brows, determination growing within you. You weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste. You spun around, and using the momentum of your spin, made your move.

“Water breathing. Sixth form: Whirlpool!” you exclaimed, the air around becoming an extension of your sword, slicing right into the demon and cutting him in half. Then, as he was down, you moved again without rest or hesitation. “First form: water surface slash!” Your blade cut through its neck and it began to disintegrate.

I hope he saw that. That ought to have made a good impression, you thought. You wanted to continue the chase, but an all too familiar pain running through your forearms made you freeze. You dropped your katana, one hand gripping the other arm as you sucked in a sharp breath, finally losing control over your total concentration breathing.

“(L\N)!” you looked up at the frantic call of your name. Giyuu was sprinting towards you. You furrowed your brows. The third demon was still alive behind him. So why was he running towards you? And even more confusing was how the demon had lasted this long against a hashira.

Giyuu shoved you aside as soon as you were within reach, and as you stumbled back, you finally realized why. The demon you’d been chasing had made a u-turn and started charging at you. You gasped as it slashed at Giyuu with its sharp claws, cutting through his uniform and into his chest. Meanwhile, the third demon grabbed his leg and bit it hard.

The clawed demon immediately resumed its initial goal of attacking you. It lunged toward you, but this time you were prepared. Performing another water surface slash, you cut off its head. And just a few moments after, the third demon was decapitated as well by Giyuu.

“Tomioka-san, are you okay?” you asked, rushing over to him as he looked down at his bleeding chest. You reached a hand out to inspect it for any poison. As your hand grazed his skin, Giyuu quickly stepped back.

“I’m fine,” he said. You noted the slightest tremor in his voice and he seemed to hide his face from your view by letting his hair hang over it as he looked down. You wondered if he was trying to hide his pain. “Let’s just go to the butterfly mansion since it’s not too far from here.”

“Oh, okay,” you said. “Thank you, by the way. I can’t believe I didn’t see that demon coming. And I’m impressed that you sensed it somehow. Your perception skills are incredible!” Giyuu shrugged. “And you know… it’d be nice if someone could help me improve mine.”

You waited for an offer, but he didn’t supply any sort of response at all. You frowned but kept walking, joining him in silence.

You’d always looked up to Tomioka. Ever since you met him shortly after he became a hashira and he was sent to rescue you and a few other lower-level demon slayers after you got caught up in a battle with a lower moon. It was thanks to him that everyone on your team lived to see another sunrise.

Much like the one that had just finished when the butterfly mansion finally came into view.

“(Y\N)-chan!” a singsong, if not slightly whiney, voice cried out as you neared the front gate. A girl of about your age ran towards you, tears in her gray eyes and your crow on her shoulder. You hadn’t even realized it had left. “Oh my gosh! Are you okay? Your crow told me someone was injured. Do you need medical attention? You’re not gonna die, are you?” You laughed.

“Ailyna, calm down! I’m fine,” you assured her. “I’m not the one who got injured, Tomioka is.” She looked at you in confusion before Giyuu caught her eye.

“Oh! Tomioka-san! I didn’t realize you were here,” she said. “Wow, you’d think I’d notice a hashira being right in front of me, huh?” She laughed until you lightly elbowed her. She gave you a confused look, but you ignored it.

“Uh, Tomioka, this is my good friend, Ailyna Akashibo,” you introduced. She waved, smiling brightly. He nodded to her, then moved past her toward the entrance.

“Oh, (Y\N), I’m so glad you’re alright,” Ailyna said, wrapping you in a hug.

“Thanks,” you said, starting after Giyuu towards the mansion. “What are you doing here by the way? I thought Kocho-san said you’d be fully healed by now.”

“Oh, I am, actually,” she said, twirling a strand of her long, brown hair, which was put up in two half-up half-down pigtails, as she walked with you. “But Aoi and Kanoe were having trouble with rehabilitation training with some boys who faced a lower moon, so I offered to help before I get my next mission.”

“I see,” you said, “and how’s that going?”

“Wonderfully!” she exclaimed. “For the most part. There is one boar-headed brat who really gets on my nerves.” You tilted your head curiously.

“Boar-headed...?”

“He keeps talking about fighting people to prove his strength and has insisted I duel him multiple times. He never listens when I try to critique him. I totally get why Aoi and Kanoe were having trouble,” she explained. “Once he even tried blowing up my skirt with one of his breathing techniques just because I mentioned I always wear shorts underneath and he wanted to see if I was telling the truth. Isn’t that ridiculous?!”

“Oh dear,” you said, holding back a slight giggle.

“Right now they’re all res—INOSUKE!”

You jumped at your friend’s sudden shout. Looking over, you saw a boy had tackled Ailyna, and you suddenly understood what ‘boar-headed brat’ meant. He poured a cup of water on her head.

“Ahahaha! I did it! I caught you and I poured the water on you! I won!” he exclaimed proudly, his voice slightly hoarse.

“We’re not training right now! That doesn’t count, you idiot!” Ailyna told him. “Now get off me!”

“Akashibo-san! I’m so sorry! I tried to stop him but I lost sight of him!” a boy with strikingly blond hair whined as he ran towards them, pulling his friend off of her. She stood up and dusted herself off.

“Do you see what I’m dealing with?” she said to you.

“Well, I’m sorry, Ailyna, but I should go check on Tomioka. It’s my fault he got injured after all,” you said, managing to slip away before the girl could catch you.

“(Y\N)!” she called out, pouting as you were already gone.

“(Y\N)? That was the name the half and half haori guy was mumbling about when I saw him the other day,” Inosuke said. Ailyna looked at him with raised brows, her interest quite obviously piqued, “Man, he had a really weird look on his face.”

“Huh?” she said. “What are you talking about? What look?”

“I dunno. It was kind of like the one Shonzitsu makes when the girls are—”

“What? Is he still being weird to them?” she interrupted, turning to the other boy with a fire in her eyes. “Zenitsu, do we need to have another talk about how to act around ladies?”

“N-no, Akashibo-san! I stopped doing it. I swear! I’m a completely reformed gentleman, I promise!” he defended.

“Good,” she said, turning back to Inosuke. “Alright, beast boy, drop and give me fifty for that little stunt you just pulled.”

You found Giyuu sitting topless on a bed with his chest and right ankle wrapped in bandages and his haori neatly folded on his lap.

“Hello,” you said as you entered the room. He looked up, and it must’ve been a trick of the lighting or embarrassment of being shirtless as his face seemed to turn red, but he quickly regained his composure.

“Your friend is very loud,” he noted.

“Ailyna? Yeah, I can’t argue with that,” you laughed. “But anyway, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “But my uniform was ripped pretty badly. I’ll have to get a new one made.”

“Is your haori okay?”

“Yes, luckily it managed to remain unscathed,” he said.

“That’s good,” you said. “So, listen. I guess I screwed up pretty badly today, and I–“

“We all make mistakes,” Giyuu interrupted. “I’m just glad I was there so that mistake wasn’t lethal. Be more careful in the future.”

“I definitely will, but I was actually also hoping you’d be willing to train with me to help me become better so I’m less likely to make a mistake again,” you said.

“Why would you want to train with me?” he asked. You blinked.

“Huh? Because you’re a hashira!” you answered. “Just like Ailyna trained with Rengoku for a while to learn how to be braver and more sure of herself.” You chuckled as a memory from long ago resurfaced, specifically a memory of watching her scare herself with the electric sparks she created. “She used to be a quivering mess, but now she’s and incredibly powerful demon slayer with a firm grasp on her abilities. Imagine what I could do learning from you!”

“I’m not like Rengoku,” he said.

“Of course not,” you said, sitting beside him. “You’re you. That’s why I’m coming to you and not him.”

“Honestly, (L\N), I don’t think training with me would be anything more than a waste of your time,” he insisted, turning away from you, staring at the hard tile floor.

“But–”

“Here it is,” Aoi suddenly spoke as she entered the room carrying a small container of a clear liquid and some bandages. “Rub a small amount of this ointment onto the bite mark every six hours for the next three days and apply fresh bandages after each application, even after the bleeding has stopped. Understood?” Giyuu put on his haori to cover his chest and stood up. He took the items from her.

“Yes, thank you,” he said. “I will be going now.”

“Safe travels,” she said. You watched as Giyuu hurried out of the room, frowning.

“Do you need something as well?” Aoi asked.

“No, thank you. I was just checking up on Tomioka since I was his partner for this past mission,” you said.

“Then shoo! This isn’t a social room,” she said, rushing you out.

Giyuu hurried down the hallway, praying you wouldn’t follow right after him. Not that he wouldn’t love to spend more time with you, but he couldn’t let you convince him to train you. It wouldn’t be too hard for you to do. He had had trouble saying no to you just once. He didn’t know if he had the will to do it again.

As he stepped outside, he saw your friend and the two boys. He wondered where Tanjiro and Nezuko were and how they were doing. It was hard to believe two whole years had passed since he’d first found them on that snowy mountain. He remembered most distinctly the fear in Tanjiro’s eyes while his sister’s life was at his mercy. And, of course, the trick he pulled in an attempt to save her life.

“Tomioka-san!” The sound of Ailyna’s voice ripped him from his thoughts. He slowly turned around and was greeted by her grinning face. “How was the mission with (Y\N)?”

“It was successful,” he said, continuing forward.

“No, I mean like, did anything interesting happen?” she asked, following him.

“No,” he said. “Now leave me be. I’m tired.”

“Why so rude? I’m just trying to be friends,” she huffed. “Come on. Shinobu says you don’t have any, but I can change that.” She smiled again. “So tell me all about it!”

“Stop talking.”

“Why? You’re obviously injured so it’s not like you have a mission you need to do. Let’s–”

“Tomioka! Ailyna! Wait up!” Ailyna nearly tripped at the sudden sound of your voice, but Giyuu swiftly put an arm out to stop her fall. He looked over his shoulder at you.

“Please get ahold of your yapping companion,” he requested.

“Yapping?!” Ailyna exclaimed in disbelief, her cry eerily reminiscent of a certain four-legged fluffy creature. She crossed her arms. “Hmph! No wonder you have no friends.” She stomped off. You sighed.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “She can be a little… much, but I swear she’s the sweetest person you’ll know if you get to know her.”

“I don’t plan on it,” he said bluntly.

“That’s a shame,” you said. “I’m hoping you won’t oppose to us getting to know each other better though.” Giyuu felt his ears start to burn and he looked to the side. “Perhaps as we… train together?”

‘Oh, right. That,’ he thought as the heat dissipated.

“I’d rather not discuss this now,” he said.

“Alright,” you said, and he relaxed. “I’ll just have to come by your estate in three days. You’ll be all better by then so once I convince you to train me, we’ll be able to start right away!” Giyuu opened his mouth to protest only to watch you run off before he could speak.

Ailyna slammed the door as she entered the mansion, grumbling under her breath.

“Oh my, Ailyna-chan. You look angry. Is everything alright?” Shinobu asked, tilting her head.

“Oh, hello Shinobu. I didn’t realize you’d returned already. I’m fine,” she said. Shinobu gave her a doubtful look. “I just… do you know why Tomioka is so grumpy all the time?”

“Why? Are you interested in him?” she asked, the corner of her lips quirking even further upwards than her usual smile.

“Ew. No, not at all,” Ailyna said, scrunching her nose. “Come on, I’ve been here long enough for you to know me better than that.” She giggled.

“I know. I’m just teasing,” she assured her. “But to answer your question: I think it’s because he’s lonely. He’s never gotten along with the other hashiras, even when we try to reach out.”

“That’s so sad,” Ailyna said, frowning. Shinobu nodded in agreement.

“In fact, the only person I’ve seen him actually carry a full casual conversation with is that friend of yours you talk about so much. (Y\N), was it?” she added. Ailyna perked up.

“That’s because no one can resist the warmth and kindness of my best friend,” she stated proudly.

“You always sing such high praises for them. I’ll have to formally introduce myself sometime,” Shinobu said.

“It’s a shame you just missed them,” Ailyna said. “I’m sure they’ll be back though.”

Giyuu sat on his engawa, staring at the small pond in his yard. His estate wasn’t as grand as the other hashira’s homes, and he preferred it that way. It was only fair he have a dwelling befitting of what he has earned, which was much less than those like Himejima or Kocho.

He took in a deep breath, mindful of the bandages wrapped around his chest and the healing scratches they covered. He could still feel the ghost of your hand brushing against his chest before he had moved away. The thought made him blush and he growled, running his hands through his hair and leaning back, wondering what the hell had gotten into him lately.

Whenever you were around, it was like you flipped off some switch that kept him together. He become distracted, clumsy, nervous. Even just the thought of you could make him feel this way. He’d considered it might be love, that he’d formed a crush on you, but he didn’t know you that well. Although he had to admit he did find you gorgeous.

Yes, that was it. It must’ve been an infatuation he was struggling with. He supposed he could only isolate himself for so long before his human craving for socialization caused him to act so out of character. The answer was easy then. He’d satisfy the craving. Just for a little while. You’d asked him to train you, so he would. At the butterfly mansion so he had even more people to interact with. And once this infatuation he had with you stopped, he’d go back to his normal habits.

While you waited for Tomioka to recover, you decided to stay at the butterfly mansion with Ailyna, helping her with her rehabilitation training with the boys.

“Excuse me, (L\N)-san?” Sumi suddenly asked you while you were watching Ailyna demonstrate some sword techniques to the boys.

“Yes, what is it?” you asked.

“Tomioka-san is here to see you,” she said. You raised your brows. It had been two days since you last saw him after he got his injury treated. You had planned on visiting him the next day.

“Oh, well let him back here then,” you said. She nodded and ran off.

“Thunder breathing. Fifth form: heat lightning,” Ailyna said, catching your attention again. You looked up as she showed the move off to the boys. A large strike of lightning shot into the sky as she sliced her sword upwards.

“Impressive,” a familiar voice noted. You looked over to see Giyuu had arrived.

“It is, isn’t it?” you told him, proud of your friend for how far she’s come. “What brings you here?” you asked.

“I thought about what you asked of me and I’ll do it,” he said.

“Really? You’ll train with me?” you asked. He nodded.

“We’ll begin tomorrow morning. I’ve already asked Kocho and she permitted us to do it here as I don’t think my estate is suitable for training at the moment,” he explained. You nodded. “Alright. I’ll see you then.”

“Thank you, Tomioka,” you said. He nodded before rushing off.

“Was that Tomioka? What happened?” Ailyna asked as soon as he was gone.

“He finally agreed to train with me,” you told her gleefully. “I can’t wait! I’m going to learn so much!” Ailyna smiled.

“That’s great, (Y\N)!” she said.“And when you’re done, I want to go on missions together again. I’ve missed you!” She frowned dramatically and you giggled.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said.

“Akashibo-san?” Ailyna turned at the call of her name.

“Yes, Zenitsu? What is it?”

“Inosuke got his snout stuck in his jug,” he said. You both looked over to see the boy holding his mask while Tanjiro pulled on the jug. Ailyna’s eye twitched.

“I’ll talk to you later, (Y\N),” she said as calmly as she could, starting back over to the boys. You turned away as she left, chuckling quietly to yourself as her departure was shortly followed by a grunt from her and the sound of clay breaking.

#giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu x reader #tomioka x reader #giyuu tomioka #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader

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dragon430 · 4 months

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Update

Hello lovelies! There will be a few changes to how I do things from now on, and I wanted to let you guys know what they are now so that you aren’t confused about them when they take effect.

1) I’ve given up on trying to have a steady writing schedule. I’ve realized that my writing has been lacking, and my motivation has taken a dive bomb, so there will just be a chapter or one shot updated whenever I finish and am satisfied with it.

2) A bit of a warning, for any event I will be doing in the future, my Patrons get first dibs on selections as they have early access to them. Because of this, by the time I make a post here, many of the slots could be taken.

3) Writing for multiple series at a time just isn’t working for me anymore, as many of you have probably noticed. So, from now on, I will only be writing for one series at a time, with some one shots thrown in here and there when I feel like it.

And most importantly, 4) Sadly, it will probably still take me a while before I'm posting again, despite my best efforts to get back to it as soon as possible. But I have finally edited all posted chapters of Child Of The Angels, Crystal Clear Affection, and Technical Artistry (thanks to the wonderful @imaginethatneathuh for helping me edit). So hopefully, now that I have those done, I can redirect my focus to future chapters and one shots.

But now that those edits have been completed, I would recommend going back and reading previous chapters again if you're an avid reader of the story. Many of the stories had new facts added or have gone through changes that may confuse you when they are mentioned in future chapters.

Some of the edits were just minor to make things flow better. But, some backstory facts were added or changed in some stories. These backstory facts were either added to alter the direction of the story or to give more understanding of the Reader's situation in it. Also, in each series, Reader is mostly referred to by a nickname instead of by "(First Name)", and some nicknames can also give additional details to Reader's backstory.

Of course, if you choose not to reread chapters, that is completely up to you. But I very strongly suggest at least reading the last chapter of Child Of The Angels to those who like it because that chapter has been extended to carry on farther into the episode it was following (Like seriously, I’m not kidding, it went from 767 words to over 13,000).

@abbygraceasd @a-door-into-my-mind @chocolovelp @imthedoctorlove @oh-no-a-whovian @seninjakitey @youcandalekmyballs

I’m tagging you guys since Child Of The Angels was mentioned and you had asked to be on the taglist for it. Of course, if you would like to be taken off the taglist (because frankly it’s been forever since I’ve done anything with it) just let me know.

And that is the end of this update!

#Dragon Roars

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loveyourlovelysoul · 6 months

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so as I was mentioning in a previous post about staying in touch with other people, even those that may not be important... there's this "friend"/neighbor which I haven't been talking to for so long. I could say we lost each other slowly cause of life, and even if she moved back in my neighborhood not long ago, we didn't really got closer again. like, at all. I think we just grew apart, and that's okay: at first it hurt ofc but now I totally accept it.

let me explain.

as I started healing recently, I understood it wasn't just her not considering me that much, but also me having said lot of no's to her (more or less openly), for my own fears (parents' overreaction mostly: I wasn't that aware of this habit of mine back then, so I couldn't speak about it and so she didn't know -but probably got something anyway since she often said how tough to deal with they seemed to be). all this ofc made our bond to just become looser and looser as we moved to uni and she moved to other cities and countries, until it basically became inexistent.

despite having shared the same classes and/or school for most of our lives, we also had different backgrounds/upbringings, different friends (despite some common ones), different habits, different characters (she's always been way more extroverted than me while I used to shy away, even if I often followed her doing weird/funny stuff for others), different lives and goals, different personal problems too... even different views on things especially these days (again, it's fine! we met different people and had different experience since when we used to play and talk together as kids and teens, that too formed us into different human beings). I think we were just different and many times she had been pretending... but ofc, I have no objective proof about this: it could be just my (wounded ego) impression nowadays.

anyway. a couple of months ago she gave birth. ofc she didn't tell me (not even when she got married a couple of years ago to a guy I know as well). I found out by chance after our mothers met, despite having been talking a bit with her hubby in the previous months (he didn't tell me anything about the pregnancy as if it was top-secret). I could have decided this was the last time that she/they closed me off, and honestly at first I felt this way while I was saying "Idc, her/their decision". but talking with an external friend I realized: maybe I could just give her a present for her baby and not make all this and our past matter too much. just see how it goes. we're adults and neighbors now, and that's how I can look at us these days. we can turn the page.

so, even if I felt a bit uncomfortable and part of me didn't feel like (especially for the fact that I wanted to feel as our friendship was definitely closed, and I needed to close with the past abruptly), I texted her asking how she was doing and if she had 5 mins for me to go see her and bring her a little thing for her baby. she replied inviting me for a walk. we went out, both pretending everything was fine and nothing ever happened. we kinda had fun talking about the baby, his quirks, about a neighborhood's problem (as adults do) and remembering a few events of our childhood. I felt more grounded than I thought (despite I couldn't always recall all the words I wanted to say, but I haven't been speaking 1:1 irl for a real lot of time now, except for a few words here and there in specific contexts); she was kinda calm too but I think the pregnancy also made her. she has changed especially in her voice, and it felt weird to see her holding a baby and feeding him. she also asked me to help her with the baby carriage when she had to hold him which ofc I did. and then we went back home after an hour or so, I gave her the gift and we both told each other we could have met for a walk another day (I am kinda sure this won't happen -unless it will be me asking? Idk-, it's just one of those sentences you say out of courtesy, but it felt coherent with how that hour went) and that we'll keep in touch anyway about the neighborhood's problem (more likely?): at the end of the day, I asked about her but she didn't ask anything about me and my life/family anyway, not even when we ended up staying silent for a while (it wasn't uncomfortable for me btw, can't say for her).

once I arrived home I was literally freezing cause the sun was gone and it got pretty cold; I had the feeling she kinda wanted to suddenly run away at that time and find another place to go (maybe, Idk), but I was feeling good. I had a nice interaction, out of all the past context we had been through. it helped me start to get back "out there" again, in a kind of "known" environment (in the end, we still have known each other since ages), to be hugged and hug again (even if it wasn't too felt probably, but it works as practice too heh). and also it reminded me that not everyone has to stay in our life forever and we're not supposed to be in everyone's life forever; and that feelings and bonds can change and evolve in something different as well, if we let them too. they can turn calmer, less profound, and more patient and respectful of each one's new life and boundaries. ofc it's not for everyone, for every relationship: there has to be a *silent* agreement between the parts, at least. not saying I agree with why I wasn't told about the baby or other good news or why I wasn't asked about me out of courtesy even on these terms, but... it was her/their decision and I respect and accept it now. as I will respect their spaces and boundaries from now on without really caring. at all and for real, this time. I know where I stand (and where she stands for me), and that's okay: not because I submissively accept it as her/their decision, but because I understand and agree there's no other way.

this meeting really helped me to see things under a new perspective and actually gave closure, in a way, to my past hurt feelings. differently from how building a wall or cutting cords has ever. now I'll just let things be and really not care much, and treat each other politely as random acquaintances/neighbors. but I can say I really feel much more eager to meet new people, to get out there and test myself after all those years of isolation I put myself in while healing (which made me so rusty and didn't help much, even if I kept talking online at least and learning about boundaries here... but that's not the same). I know now I can bear with that stress, no matter how it'll turn out. I feel stronger and more in touch with myself than ever. it's true: what you make other's decisions and behaviours mean about yourself, only depends on you. I was probably *unconsciously* making it all mean that I was not good enough, not even as an acquaintance/neighbor. but even if it is so according to her/them, I decide to not make it mean anything about my present and actual worth: I have been working on myself so hard and so much that I'm far from being the *scared* girl I used to be in the past and they have no clue about it. and I don't need or want to show them anyway as there's no reason for it. I am closing with the past anyway, whether past people will acknowledge it and come with me in my future or not or in what measure/form they will/won't. it doesn't matter. it only matters what I do and think of my path until today. and what I will decide to do and think about it (and me) from today on.

#healing #relationships #friendship #my story #life #vulnerability #self growth #closure #feelings #words

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elshells · 1 year

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Happy STS! How different are your characters now vs when you first created them? Is there anything you miss about their previous traits/personality?

Happy STS, and thank you for the question, Nopal! <3

I think I've mentioned in another post that the concept for Agent Ace came from an old fanfic I wrote, so the characters have been through quite the transformation! It's pretty fun looking back and seeing how much has changed.

Infodump below the cut, which may include minor spoilers. Also it's just a vomit of words, so read at your own risk XD

Sophia, then: The murder victim of the story! Her name was Ashley Cole, and she was already dead by the beginning of the story, so there was no opportunity to develop her as a character. She was still Harley's sister, but they were only 1-3 years apart (I don't remember how many at this point).

Sophia, now: One of the main protagonists whose POV we follow! This was completely unintentional all my part. When I adapted the story to original fiction, I wanted a legitimate detective character, but I still wanted her to have some sort of relation to Harley so the dual POVs weren't too disconnected. So they became sisters, and I killed someone else off to make it work for the story. Her new name, Sophia, came from an extraneous character I had scrapped (but the name still fit so I salvaged it), and for a long time, she was Sophia Cole. Her last name eventually changed to Colbo, which was the name of my student teacher in seventh grade who I had a little gay crush on.

It's also worth noting that Sophia and Harley were both white when I created them, but after a while, I started imagining them as biracial. Officially, they are Mexican (father's side) and Greek (mother's side).

Harley, then: The protagonist. In the original story, she was in her late twenties and I think she was a pizza delivery person? (my memory's a bit fuzzy on that one) But she was the police's prime suspect for the murder, the whole story was about her trying to clear her name by solving the mystery. Along the way, she uncovered secrets and became entangled in a new dangerous world. Her name has changed several times (she wasn't Harley until about a year ago), although her last name, Manalis, has stayed consistent. I got it from a name generator, but I'm a little unclear on whether or not it's a real name.

Harley, now: Still one of the protagonists, except now she's in college (ten years younger than Sophia) with an aspiration for robotics. She sort of split into two different characters when I rewrote the story, so a lot of Sophia's personality comes from her original character. I do miss the parts of her that had more worldly wisdom and experience, but she's still young, and I know she'll gain some as her story continues! Her affinity for robotics was also never really a thing until I made the switch into sci-fi, and that hobby change just made sense for her character.

Jade, then: Did not exist in any capacity!

Jade, now: Jade came to be when I realized that I hadn't given Harley any friends. She went through much of the story alone, and even the allies she'd made didn't stay with her at the end. I needed to give her one person she could truly rely on—one friend who could support her in her darkest hour.

And then, of course, I had that little voice inside of me asking, But what if they were gay? And since I'd already modeled Jade off of some of my closest friends and crushes at the time, the idea easily fell into place!

Max, then: A genius student who was enlightened about the supernatural and then targeted by the same people who killed Sophia's old character. He existed only in flashback perspectives, so he remained relatively static and didn't hold much weight in the grand scheme of the story.

Max, now: Not too much changed! His abduction still serves the plot, but he plays a much bigger role in the story. I made him a friend of Harley and Jade's, thus giving him a deeper connection, and took the opportunity to flesh him out. His personality ended up taking after mine, in a way. His anxiety and uncertainty was always present, but as I continued writing him, I discovered a sharper, sassier side of him that played into a strength I hadn't allowed him to have in the earliest draft.

Janus, then: The main antagonist and, funnily enough, Sophia's husband! He'd been manipulated into a twisted version of himself that led him to torture and kill—sort of like a possession/split personality. He was such a fun character to write, but as a person, he was absolutely vile. My readers hated him, and rightfully so!

Janus, now: He's still an antagonist, though he's much more morally gray. I really leaned into the dark humor, theatrics and charisma that made him so fun to write, and his softer, more protective personality manifested in Ahren, Sophia's new husband. He's still a bastard, and dangerous when he wants to be, but no longer sadistic. And like Sophia and Harley, he started out as white, but I rewrote him as half-Korean for Agent Ace.

Although he's no longer the Big Bad, he still has a big role to play through his existing connection to Sophia. But I dropped the idea that they were romantically involved as soon as Sophia became a major character. As a trope, enemies-to-lovers makes me really uncomfortable, and especially considering the power imbalance that already exists between them, that wasn't the relationship I wanted to write. Now they have more of a reluctant buddy-cop dynamic, which I think is much more entertaining!

#thank you for the ask!#storyteller saturday #lore rambles #wip: agent ace #current wip #ella's writing

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theharrowing · 2 years

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Dollhouse 💛 14: A tangle of bodies

Hoseok’s job is simple: He enters the host’s body, he confiscates or terminates the target, and he gets back into his own body by dinnertime, easy peasy. Until a client comes along who becomes as obsessed with his life as he becomes with theirs, and the lines between their realities begin to blur.

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

💛 Hoseok x Namjoon, Jungkook x Yoongi, Hoseok x Yoongi, Namjoon x Jungkook, Hoseok x Yoongi x Jungkook

💛 word count: 7.9k

💛 hired assassin au, sci-fi, body swapping, graphic violence, infidelity, body dysphoria, lgbtq, smut, fluff, angst, poly, nsfw, smut, 21+

💛 chapter warnings: infidelity, ass eating, angst, oral, vaginal & anal sex, threesome, recreational drug use (ecstasy), selfcest?

💛 beta read by @neoneunnajimin

💛 posted may, 2022 | read on ao3

Jeongguk: Old men are heading home tomorrow, on schedule with us. We'll have to whack them on home soil.

Hoseok: I need you to stop sending me texts containing orders to whack people. We're not part of a mafia.

Jeongguk: Who are you afraid of seeing your messages? You're literally a government official.

Hoseok: We'll talk about this later.

Jeongguk: Are you sure? I plan to have my hands and mouth pretty full later. And I don't think you'll be in any shape to argue, big boy.

Hoseok sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He misses the façade- Jeongguk, who was too shy to look him in the eye, much less call him "big boy." This Jeongguk—bossy, sexually deviant Jeongguk—is a fucking troublemaker. Hoseok wonders if Namjoon still wants to go through with their drunk plan or if he'll realize it's all been a mistake now that he's had time to think it over. He should probably find a way to ask him.

Namjoon: Ran into Jeongguk at the gym. He's asking about brunch. Yes or no?

Hoseok: Sure. Do you want to come back and shower, or should I head down soon?

Hoseok gets off the bed and makes his way to his closet, deciding that now is as good a time as any to put on some actual clothes since he just went to sleep in briefs last night. He chooses a black tee and slacks, telling himself they should be good enough for today, forgoing his standard button-up—something he's been doing too often lately. Namjoon will probably want to dress more casually, anyway, so he tells himself that it's probably fine.

As Hoseok changes into new briefs and pulls his t-shirt over his head, there's a knock at the door. He pauses, arm hanging halfway through its hole, unsure if he really heard a knock when there's another.

"Hoseokah?" Yoongi calls from the other side.

Hoseok sighs and, forgetting he's not wearing pants, pads his way over to the door, straightening out his shirt. When Hoseok opens the door, Yoongi's eyes fall to Hoseok's bare legs, then move back up, and he pushes his way into the room with a smirk.

"Hey, baby," Yoongi says, taking Hoseok by the wrist and pulling their bodies together against the closing door. Yoongi wraps his arms around Hoseok's waist, and Hoseok stumbles forward, allowing Yoongi to overwhelm him.

"Our boys are in the gym and are probably gonna hit the shower for a bit, so I figured I would come keep you company while we wait."

Hoseok's phone is on the bed, so he hasn't had a chance to see if Namjoon has responded, and he's not sure if Yoongi's just trying to get in a quick fuck. But he also doesn't care. Yoongi's freshly showered with slightly damp hair and dewy skin, and he smells like a field of lavender and newly chopped trees. And, wearing just a black t-shirt and black sweats, Hoseok can make out every delicate curve of bone and muscle on Yoongi's torso.

"Yoongi," Hoseok mutters, "I—"

Hoseok's head spins, heart pounds, and Yoongi's fingers, which have inched up Hoseok's shirt and hold his waist, are searing hot. Yoongi cocks his head and hums, encouraging Hoseok to go on.

"What happens if all of this works out?"

Yoongi squints, attempting to read Hoseok, and holy shit, Hoseok feels incredibly anxious. He takes a step back, guiding Yoongi toward the bed, and Yoongi follows, holding eye contact, waiting for Hoseok to elaborate. The walk across the suite feels like forever, but Hoseok's thoughts are so scattered, he welcomes the time to attempt to think. When his calf finally hits the mattress, he flinches, then sighs.

"If Namjoon likes it, and if everything is good, and it works out, what—" Hoseok leans against the edge of the bed and allows Yoongi to spread his legs with a thigh, grazing Hoseok's cock and balls through his thin briefs.

"What are you afraid of?" Yoongi asks, leaning in just enough to graze his lips over Hoseok's as he speaks.

"You," Hoseok admits, almost whispers. "Me. Everything. I won't want to stop. And Jeongguk...I want you to fuck me in his body again. I want to feel what it's like to be him again."

Yoongi licks over Hoseok's lips, and Hoseok whines, melting into the kiss. Yoongi's thigh gently rubs Hoseok, and Hoseok can't help but whimper and rut against the friction. He wants Yoongi to touch him so badly. To fuck him, to taste him, to do anything he wants.

"Wait," Hoseok mutters. His brain is foggy, and his body is electric with arousal, but he knows he should check his phone. "I should see if Joonie responded."

"I told you, Jeongguk has him."

"He's not going to just let Jeongguk touch him, though," Hoseok mutters, stretching his arm out to reach his phone, which sits just out of reach. Yoongi loosens his grip, and Hoseok manages to touch a finger to the device, then shimmy it over with his fingertips. When he grabs his phone, he notices messages from both Namjoon and Jeongguk.

Namjoon: Jeongguk wants to work out a little longer. He says he sent Yoongi to keep you company. I hope you don't mind?

Hoseok: Not at all. Take your time.

Hoseok checks the time stamp. It was only four minutes ago.

Jeongguk: Sent you a gift. Feel free to unwrap him. I want to make Joonie a sweaty mess and then clean him off.

Hoseok: Joon is the one who wanted all 4 of us to be together the most, but good luck. You have my blessing. Let me know when you're heading back.

"Everything okay?" Yoongi asks, tightening his grip on Hoseok's waist.

Hoseok tosses his phone to the bed and wraps his arms around Yoongi's shoulders, pulling him closely while he pouts. "No, daddy."

"Awe," Yoongi mock-pouts, "what's the matter, baby?"

Hoseok grinds his ass down on Yoongi's thigh and whines when the tiniest amount of friction passes his hole. He hasn't felt this needy for someone in so long, and although he still feels sore from taking Namjoon's cock the night before, he knows Yoongi's mouth will feel like heaven on the sensitive flesh.

"I miss your tongue, daddy," Hoseok whines, resting his forehead against Yoongi's. "I want you to eat me out."

"Hands down at your sides, baby," Yoongi mutters, and Hoseok nods his head, then drops his arms from Yoongi's shoulders, brushing his fingertips down Yoongi's chest and breathing in his smell.

Yoongi grips onto Hoseok's waist and spins him, shoving him into the mattress, and Hoseok gasps, feeling a jolt of excitement start from his tummy and shoot through him. The old familiar vines snake tightly around Hoseok's ribs, blooming with bright flowers as Yoongi yanks Hoseok's briefs down and spreads him with his big, firm hands.

Hoseok bends into the mattress and grips onto the comforter, and as soon as he feels Yoongi's tongue lap slowly over his hole, Hoseok moans, melting further forward. Yoongi's tongue is wet and warm, and it sends a wave of arousal crashing through Hoseok, already causing his legs to tremble.

"Did Joonie fuck your tight hole, baby?" Yoongi groans then licks again.

"Y-yes, daddy."

"It's so puffy, baby; so pretty. Is it sensitive?”

"Yes, daddy."

The trouble with fucking around with Yoongi is that Yoongi clouds Hoseok's senses so completely that all the world falls away. This includes thoughts of his husband. Hoseok knows in his heart that letting Yoongi have so much power over him may ultimately be his downfall—could very well claim everything Hoseok holds dear, ripped straight from his grasp—and he does nothing to stop himself around Yoongi. Hoseok is powerless.

Yoongi eats Hoseok's ass. His expert tongue traces him in circles, flicks, laps, and penetrates, and Hoseok whines and sobs as the pleasure overwhelms him. Hoseok's cock presses into the mattress, and every tremble in his thighs and jolt in his hips give a painful rush of pleasure. Yoongi licks him in a rhythm that has Hoseok's desperate, leaking cock throbbing quickly.

"Please," Hoseok whines, holding himself on weak, shaky legs.

Yoongi moves his mouth away, and Hoseok's hips jerk back. "Please what, baby?"

"Please, I want to come. Please, daddy. You feel so good."

Yoongi tugs Hoseok away from the bed, then twists him again, and Hoseok nearly topples over, grabbing Yoongi's head for stability. The sight of Yoongi down on his knees with his lips pink and chin slick from eating his ass makes Hoseok's heart pound hard. Yoongi angles himself up, holding Hoseok firmly against the mattress with his hands pressing into Hoseok's hips, and mutters, "Then come for me, baby boy," before taking Hoseok's cock into his mouth, sucking down into his throat.

Hoseok leans back against the bed, hands propping himself up, and loses himself in pleasure as Yoongi sucks his cock down and swirls his tongue as he comes up. Yoongi's deep, raspy voice moans, sending vibrations through Hoseok, and Hoseok whimpers and tries not to cry out too loudly as his hips shake and his arousal builds.

It's a tidal wave crashing hard against the shore, and Hoseok can't even form words before he's about to come, just mutters a weak, "Da-ha-aah—" before his hips jerk, and he fills Yoongi's mouth. Yoongi groans as if Hoseok's orgasm brings him pleasure and sucks until Hoseok begs him to stop and then sucks a little more. Hoseok jolts forward and gently grabs Yoongi's head, then his legs give out, and he tumbles, assisted by Yoongi as Hoseok straddles his thighs.

"Fuck," Hoseok whimpers, burying his face in Yoongi's neck.

"You taste so good, baby."

"Fuck, we weren't supposed to—how do I keep letting you—"

Yoongi scoffs and kisses Hoseok's neck. His voice is deep and raspier than usual when he mutters, "Letting me, what? You begged me, Seokah."

"Letting you intoxicate me. Letting you cloud my thoughts. How do I keep letting you do this to me?" Hoseok sighs. He's so incredibly fucked.

"It's okay, baby. Jeongguk and Joonie are probably fucking in the shower right now. I bet Namjoon couldn't wait to taste pussy again."

Hoseok sits back, and his head hits the side of the mattress. It's a dull thud, and he squeezes his eyes shut. "No," he mutters. "He wouldn't do that. He's probably gently turning Jeongguk down. He wouldn't just do it without us discussing it."

Yoongi hums and holds onto Hoseok's hips, keeping Hoseok from sliding off his angled legs, and Hoseok opens his eyes and stares at a spot on Yoongi's shirt rather than look him in the eye. This thing that they're doing—this thing that Hoseok seems addicted to—it's getting the best of him. Try as he might, Hoseok can't figure out why he can never seem to get enough of Yoongi.

"I should get dressed," Hoseok finally says, forcing his thoughts to stop swimming. He pushes back, out of Yoongi's grasp, and haphazardly stands up.

"Alright," Yoongi says. "I'll go change and brush my teeth. Call me if you need anything."

There's something so casual in how Yoongi invites Hoseok to call if he needs anything; Hoseok can't imagine what he could possibly need from him. As Hoseok walks to his closet and picks up the slacks he intended to put on earlier, he can't help but wonder if Namjoon would do something with Jeongguk down in the showers. After what just transpired, he hopes that Namjoon would.

"Alright, well, thanks for uh—" Yoongi stops and clears his throat, and Hoseok turns to watch Yoongi shrug, "uh, coming down my throat."

Hoseok scoffs and looks at the floor. "Thanks for letting me. It felt amazing."

Yoongi hums, and then he's gone, and Hoseok can't help but feel suffocated by his anxiety. He walks to the bed and checks his phone, and when he finds no new notifications, he sighs in relief. Maybe Jeongguk was convincing enough, and Namjoon went along with it. Maybe. Hopefully.

Hoseok walks into the bathroom to brush his teeth, wash his face and neck, and put enough product in his hair to comb it out of his eyes. He returns to the main room and sits on the ugly fucking white couch that he might miss a little once they leave this place, and he inhales deeply, holds it, and exhales. His phone dings.

Jeongguk: Coming back. Is Yoongi with you?

Hoseok: No.

Jeongguk: Okay.

The moment Hoseok sets his phone down, his mind is in overdrive once more. Jeongguk didn't brag—why didn't Jeongguk brag? Jeongguk would brag, right? So, why. He wants to ask, but he's not sure whether he should because what if Jeongguk was joking before, just riling Hoseok up, and Hoseok did something with Yoongi that he should not have done. Not that Jeongguk would mind, but...Namjoon. Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon.

Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut, and when he opens them, his vision is clouded with white spots, and the door to his suite opens. Namjoon enters alone. His hair is wet, indicating a shower. Good, that's good. But his cheeks are flushed, and he's looking at the floor. That's concerning. Hoseok gives Namjoon a moment before greeting him, then smiles widely when Namjoon finally makes eye contact.

"Hey, baby!" Hoseok says, sitting forward and giving Namjoon his full attention.

Namjoon approaches, opens his mouth to speak, and then crumbles. He falls to the floor in the middle of the room, knees bent in with his hands on the carpet, and he heaves desperately as if suddenly the air is too thin. Hoseok gets off the couch, half-standing, half-crouching as he walks over, then kneels next to Namjoon.

"Joonie, what's wr—"

Namjoon curls in on himself and cries. Big, heavy, shoulder-shaking sobs that echo through the room, and this is not what Hoseok imagined would happen, though he isn't fully surprised. And he already knows. Hoseok already knows what happened before Namjoon even has to say anything. And the vines squeeze and squeeze.

"Baby, talk to me," Hoseok coos, reaching to rub circles on Namjoon's back, and Namjoon flinches away and throws himself further onto the floor.

"I don't deserve—I don't—don't touch me," Namjoon stammers through sobs and sniffles loudly.

"Of course you deserve me, baby; just tell me what's wrong."

"J—Jeon— Jeongguk, he—'' Namjoon shakes his head. "No, it's my fault. I can't blame him, I wanted it."

Hoseok swallows a lump in his throat and fights the urge to cry for his husband. He wants to tell Namjoon that it's okay, that he's not upset, but he doesn't want it to seem like he knows. So he says nothing, and he waits. Namjoon gasps for air and cries for a while longer. And then, when he's laid on the carpet in the fetal position, he clears his throat and tries again.

"I'll understand if you leave me," Namjoon says, voice raw and deep.

Hoseok lays on his side on the floor facing Namjoon and slowly reaches out to test a caress. Namjoon doesn't flinch when Hoseok's hand gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze, and Hoseok gives Namjoon a soft smile.

"I would never leave you, baby. Just tell me what's got you so upset and we'll handle it."

Namjoon closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. " Jeongguk came to the gym, and he was very touchy and flirty, which I expected. And I was good at laughing off and allowing it because it was...nice. It was nice. I didn't think you'd mind."

Hoseok shakes his head with a smile. "Of course not, Joonie."

"But then we went into the showers, and he—he followed me into my stall, and I was shocked and told him that he shouldn't be there, but he begged me for a kiss. I barely h—" Namjoon chokes on a sob and begins to cry more, though not as hard as before.

"I barely hesitated. Hoseok, I hardly thought twice. I just thought about last night and how good it felt, and I pushed him against the stall door and kissed him until he was moaning and begging me to let him suck my cock. And he got naked, and, fuck, he was so, so pretty."

Hoseok takes a deep breath quietly, not letting it sound exasperated because he does not want to make Namjoon even more upset or make Namjoon think he is upset. Then he squeezes Namjoon's shoulder tighter.

"Joonie, look, I know we agreed to wait until we were all four together, but I promise you, whatever happened with Jeongguk in the shower is not enough for me to leave you."

"Seok, I'm so—"

"I mean it. Whether you kissed, or Jeongguk sucked you off, or you fucked...whatever happened, I'm not mad at you, and it would never change how I feel about you. We already blurred the lines with them last night, and I don't feel hurt or upset."

Namjoon curls further into himself and cries harder. "I don't deserve you. I don't deserve you, Hoseok. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Hoseok gets up, crawls to Namjoon, and drapes himself over his body. "You deserve the world, baby. You deserve me, and Jeongguk, and Yoongi, and you deserve pleasure. I promise you."

Namjoon shakes his head and continues to sob, and Hoseok repositions himself to spoon Namjoon, holding him through his tears. Hoseok tells himself that he should have expected this, but he hoped that, with what happened last night, Namjoon would be far less devastated.

Enough time passes that Hoseok begins to feel drowsy, and he wonders if Namjoon is asleep when Namjoon finally sniffles and begins to sit up.

"I need to shower again," he says weakly.

Hoseok sits up on the floor. He pulls his knees to his chest and hugs them tight, watching Namjoon get onto his feet and shuffle into the bathroom. For the most part, Hoseok feels numb. He wants to console Namjoon, but he's not sure there's much more than he can say, and he doesn't want to upset him further or overwhelm him.

Once Hoseok hears the shower start, he gets off the floor and walks back to the sofa, where his phone was left. Hoseok's stomach grumbles as he curls onto the monstrosity and checks his phone.

Jeongguk: I can't tell if Namjoon is okay with what happened. If not, I'm sorry.

This begs questions, although Hoseok can't say he's too shocked if Namjoon held in most of his feelings until he got back to his room. Whatever may have happened, Hoseok can't imagine Namjoon fully blames Jeongguk; otherwise, he wouldn't be so upset.

Hoseok: What exactly did happen?

Jeongguk: He didn't tell you?

Hoseok: Not really.

Jeongguk: Is he upset?

Hoseok: He's pretty upset. He's taking another shower now.

There's a pause, and then Hoseok's phone rings, showing Jeongguk's name. Hoseok hesitates, then answers it. Before he can say anything, Jeongguk says, "I'll tell you what happened. No need to speak. And if he comes out of the shower, you can just hang up."

Hoseok hums, and Jeongguk continues. "I was really touchy at the gym. Tentatively at first, testing the waters to see if Namjoon would allow it. He allowed it and seemed into it, so I laid it on thicker and thicker, and he flirted back. I thought everything was good. So then, when we went into the showers, I followed him into his stall. I had a towel on, and I hovered in the doorway, asking him to let me in."

Jeongguk sighs, seeming to collect himself. "He let me in, and I begged for a kiss. He hesitated, and I offered to leave, but then he pulled me in and pushed me into the door as he locked it behind me. We kissed until we were both super turned on, and then I begged to suck his cock. He said no, and I begged again, and he said no, so I backed off and said it was fine. But then I guess he changed his mind. We took our towels off our hips, draped them over the door, and I got onto my knees. He seemed like he was into it and happy, but then once post-orgasm clarity hit, he seemed...different. Like a switch had flipped. He wouldn't say much, just stood in the water stream and stared at the floor, and I attempted to console him, but he didn't want it. You okay, Seok?"

Hoseok hums; he is as okay as he can be. Jeongguk continues. "Anyway, I managed to get him to leave the shower and get dressed. I was apologetic, but he just shrugged it off. He said he needed to walk alone and gather his thoughts, so I went another way up a different elevator. I gave him his space. Fuck, Seok, I never would have pushed him if I thought he would feel so guilty."

The sound of the shower curtain opening pulls Hoseok's attention, and he whispers, "Gotta go," and hangs up. Then he texts Jeongguk.

Hoseok: I'm not surprised he feels guilty, but it's worse than I expected. I'll talk to him and see what he wants to do. I'm not mad at you, but I wish I could have prevented this from happening.

Jeongguk: I feel like an idiot.

Hoseok: You are an idiot. <3

Jeongguk: </3! We want to get lunch. Maybe if Joonie seems more relaxed, we can get room service and talk?

Hoseok: I'll let you know.

Namjoon comes out of the bathroom, and Hoseok turns to look at him. He wears a towel around his hips while using another towel to dry his hair and walks to the closet. He seems to just stare ahead for a while, and Hoseok clears his throat quietly.

"Baby, would you be okay with bringing the two of them here to talk things out? We could order room service and—"

"No."

"Oh. O-okay."

Namjoon drops his arm to his side, dangling his towel in his fingers, and he continues to stare at his clothing. "I might look for a flight and go home today."

Hoseok's heart pounds and everything feels heavy. "Baby, we're going home tomorrow."

"I want to leave now."

Tears well in Hoseok's eyes. He wants to console Namjoon, but he's never seen him shut down like this before, and he doesn't know what to do.

"Look, I wish you would stay, but if you need to go home now, I won't stop you. Maybe a ferry to Busan would be good? Stay in a hanok overnight and take the train to Seoul in the morning?"

Namjoon nods his head, but they're shallow and noncommittal movements. Hoseok stands and cranes his neck to try to see Namjoon, then makes his way to the closet. Namjoon stares ahead with tears in his eyes, and Hoseok gently pulls the towel from Namjoon's fingers, making him flinch.

"Joonie," Hoseok says softly but sternly. "How can I prove to you that I'm not upset?"

"I'm upset," Namjoon croaks weakly. "I disappointed myself. I hurt myself. I hurt you and—and Yoongi-hyung."

Hoseok rolls his lips in between his teeth to bite back the urge to make any noise in response to the idea of Namjoon possibly hurting Yoongi, then licks his lips. "I asked Jeongguk, and he told me that Yoongi is not upset."

"But we agreed—we said we would all—" Namjoon inhales a shaky breath and sighs.

"Listen, I understand that we agreed on that boundary. I know that we all said it was important for all of us to be together. But Yoongi trusts us as much as I trust all of you. I'm not worried about my husband running off to be with another man; whether you feel affection for either of them does not hurt me because we all—to some extent—seem to feel that way about each other."

Namjoon closes his eyes. His breathing is measured and shaky on the exhale.

"Would you have been hurt if the tables were turned today? If Yoongi met me in the gym and we fooled around, still high from what happened last night."

Namjoon bites his bottom lip and knits his eyebrows. "Maybe," he mutters. "Maybe at first. But maybe not?"

Hoseok swallows a lump, and his voice shakes. He decides that perhaps giving Namjoon a half-truth might help, despite the fact that the entire truth is almost a mirror of what happened in the gym shower.

"Yoongi and I kissed when he came here."

Namjoon's breath hitches, and he opens his eyes. When he turns to face Hoseok with surprised, pained eyes, Hoseok feels instantly anxious and looks off to the side, squeezing the towel in his hand.

"We were talking about last night, and about you and Jeongguk, and then we just...looked at each other and then…we kissed. It wasn't terribly heated, but it wasn't innocent, and—and I wanted more. I'm sorry, baby."

Namjoon nods and scoffs, and Hoseok meets his gaze to find something burning, something Namjoon appears to try to blink away. "Good, so none of us are trustworthy. Wow."

"Baby—"

"No. Wow. Thank you for your honesty, Hoseok."

Not Seok, not Seokie, but Hoseok. That one stings.

"Wh-what I mean to say is that we are all still excited about what happened last night, Joon. Because it's the two of us and the two of them, not because we're unfaithful people at heart. I mean, god, how long have we been married?"

Hoseok is panicking. The air twists and contorts in ways that throw Hoseok off balance, and he finds it hard to focus. At this point, he truly doesn't know what to say, and he's terrified of saying too much.

Namjoon finally begins picking out clothing, sliding on a white tee, brown slacks, and a brown cardigan. All the while, Hoseok stares ahead at the shirts hanging in front of him, barely seeing Namjoon in the periphery, watching as the lines of the sleeves hanging together blur in and out of focus. When Namjoon is dressed, he goes into the bathroom, then returns while shoving his phone and wallet into his slacks.

"I'm going to go have lunch and look for a flight or ferry home, and I'll be back to pack a bag," Namjoon says. He doesn't turn back and look at Hoseok. "Good luck with the rest of your stay. Tell the guys I'm sorry."

"Namjoon, wait," Hoseok calls—no—whimpers. He feels weak and suddenly defeated. So, so defeated.

"I'll text you when I figure it out. And at each stop, so you don't worry."

Tears pour down Hoseok's face, and he tries to blink them away, tries to get his bearings on what is happening, but as the suite door opens and clicks shut, Hoseok feels grounded in place. Hoseok wonders if he should try to chase after Namjoon. But, ultimately, he doesn't make a move.

Hoseok wakes up in a pile of bodies. It's hot, and he's covered in sweat, and his clothing tugs and indents uncomfortably around his waist and thighs. Yoongi stirs and releases his hold around Hoseok's back, allowing Hoseok to sit up. He sucks in drool and mutters a weak "S-sorry," to Jeongguk, whose shirt is too dark to reveal the size of the wet spot.

"You cried all over me, baby; a little drool is nothing," Jeongguk says, and Hoseok weakly nods.

Noise from the television can faintly be heard, and Hoseok squints through sleepy eyes. "What's this?"

"Some old western," Yoongi responds as he sits back and crosses one leg over the other, which is how Jeongguk sits. Hoseok straightens himself out and then pulls his knees to his chest.

"Thank you guys," Hoseok mutters, staring at the white comforter covering their bed.

"Are you hungry?" Yoongi asks.

A large palm rubs circles into Hoseok's back. He's inclined to think it's Yoongi's hand, but he's not quite awake enough to tell. "Yeah."

"Good," Jeongguk says, running a finger along Hoseok's cheek and neck. "We ordered a bunch of shit; it should be here any minute. Also, uh...Joon-hyung texted you to say he landed in Seoul about ten minutes ago."

"Th-thanks."

Hoseok was still crumpled on the floor when Namjoon came to pack his suitcase, and he didn't speak a word until, while in the open doorway, he said, "I love you, Seok. Safe travels tomorrow."

Yoongi and Jeongguk kept their distance until he was gone, and once they had the go-ahead, they came to get Hoseok and bring him back to their room for a cry session that exhausted Hoseok until he fell asleep. Everything piled on at once and felt too heavy to carry, and Hoseok let it all out. Now he just feels numb.

Room service comes shortly after Hoseok wakes up, and they sit around their table, passing around plates of steak, seafood, vegetables, rice, and noodles. Yoongi fills everyone's glasses with wine, and they eat and drink quietly. It's still light outside, probably just mid-afternoon.

"Seokie, baby, do you wanna get high and forget about everything for a bit?" Yoongi asks.

"High how?"

Jeongguk leans forward, elbows on the table. "Ecstasy."

Hoseok doesn't do drugs—being an employee of the government and all—but he has in the past, and the idea entices him. Maybe, for the next 8 to 12 hours, it would be nice to just feel euphoric and let go. Hoseok nods his head. It's still daytime, his flight is tomorrow evening, and they don't anticipate getting any more actual work done, so...why not.

Hoseok nods. "Sure. That sounds fun."

"Yeah?" Yoongi asks, sounding shocked.

Hoseok shrugs.

Jeongguk gets up, walks over to some luggage across the room, and starts unzipping zippers. Hoseok pokes at his food, drinks his wine, and tries to feel a little excited for what's to come, but it's tough to feel anything at all, so he just doesn't.

When Jeongguk returns, they inspect the little pink pills with a beloved cartoon character stamped on the front, and Jeongguk mutters something about how sometimes it's beneficial to have a drug lord father-in-law. The three of them touch their pills together over the center of the table as if they're shots of liquor, and stick them on their tongues.

The pill is bitter and tastes repulsive, and Hoseok lets it sit for just a moment to bask in the awfulness before he chases it down with the rest of his wine. The waiting period between swallowing a drug and feeling a drug is always filled with anxiety—anticipation putting every nerve on edge—so Hoseok goes back to picking at his food, so he doesn't overthink it too much. Nobody has much to say; probably the others are feeling the same way, but Hoseok doesn't mind the silence.

Several minutes pass, and Yoongi's voice breaks the silence. "Would you ever swap bodies and fuck yourself?"

Hoseok looks up to find Yoongi looking at Jeongguk, but then his gaze turns to Hoseok. Hoseok shrugs. "I guess so. I don't see why not."

Jeongguk nods. "I would lick my pussy."

Yoongi nods and chuckles. His eyes look a bit glazed over and far away. "Nice. I would. I would fuck the shit out of me."

"You should use my body to fuck yourself," Jeongguk suggests.

Yoongi takes a long, finishing gulp of wine and reaches for the bottle, dumping the rest of it into his glass, filling it a little over halfway. Two full, recorked bottles sit in the center of the table, and Hoseok finishes his glass, then reaches for one of the full bottles.

"I'm suggesting it because I think we should put Seokie back in your body and take care of him," Yoongi says. Hoseok's eyes fly between Yoongi and Jeongguk, who share a glance and then turn to Hoseok. Yoongi smiles sweetly. "Would you like that, baby?"

Hoseok licks his lips. He knows he should put a stop to this affair and prevent further damage to his relationship. But he's already come so far, and he's about to come up on drugs. What's once more?

"Yes, daddy."

Once the choice is made, they quickly shuffle over to the penthouse suite. Although there is plenty of time to jump before the drugs have a chance to kick in, they do not want to risk anything weird happening. A staff member stands idly while Yoongi performs the jump himself, and Hoseok decides that, while it is pretty fucking sus, he has bigger fish to fry than to keep asking why people let the Mins do whatever they want.

The jump is easy—so easy that Hoseok actually fears that nothing happened, just for a moment. But then he sits up and looks to his left and sees his body lying there and lets out a huge, deep sigh of relief. Once the men get their bearings, they thank the staff—who said and did nothing to assist them—and shuffle back to Yoongi and Jeongguk's suite. As soon as they arrive, the room feels foggy and air is a bit light.

"Whoa," Hoseok mutters as he stumbles back to the bed. "I think it's happening."

"Good, baby," Yoongi says sweetly from behind Hoseok. He runs his hands up Hoseok's back, making Hoseok flinch and then sink into the feeling, and when Hoseok groans, he remembers he's in Jeongguk's body. He tells himself that Yoongi's hand runs up Jeongguk's back, and when arousal licks between his legs, Hoseok feels beyond excited that it's between Jeongguk's legs that he feels the familiar tingle.

"Let's get you out of these clothes, okay, baby?" Yoongi asks, wrapping his arms around Jeongguk's torso, gripping Jeongguk's stomach tightly in one hand while the other goes down between Jeongguk's legs and rubs his pussy.

Hoseok feels Jeongguk's legs tremble beneath him, and he gasps. It feels so good, like Yoongi has somehow lit hundreds of tiny fireworks inside him, and Hoseok arches Jeongguk's back and rubs Jeongguk's ass over Yoongi's cock. When Yoongi groans a deep, raspy sound, Hoseok melts against his chest.

"Please, daddy," Hoseok whines in a voice deeper than he's used to. "Please, I need you."

Jeongguk gets onto the bed wearing only briefs, and he sits in the center against the headboard and pats his legs. Hoseok is stunned at the sight of himself and clambers onto the bed. Jeongguk's limbs feel heavy and wobbly, but Hoseok does his best crawling between his own legs.

"I want you to suck your pretty dick, baby," Jeongguk says, smirking at Hoseok. "Let me see what my perfect lips look like around your shaft."

Hoseok wonders if this counts as selfcest and whether it's ethical to suck his own cock, but decides that he still doesn't feel weird about it and tugs his briefs down. Hoseok knows what his cock looks like, but it's strange seeing it from this angle, and when he licks up the shaft, he's pleasantly surprised by his taste.

"F-fuck," Jeongguk whines in Hoseok's voice. "I'm still not used to how this feels."

Hoseok licks his cock, then begins to tease the tip. His mind is floating in the clouds, and he feels like melting, but he does his best to stay in solid form to fellate himself while his voice moans and whimpers in pleasure above him. Hands are on Jeongguk's hips, pulling his sweats down, and Hoseok makes sure to wiggle Jeongguk's ass for Yoongi as he's undressed.

Yoongi gets Jeongguk's pants to his knees before spreading him with his hands and licking over Jeongguk's pussy and ass, and the feeling sends wave after wave of pleasure so intense that Hoseok worries he might collapse.

"F-fuck, I'm still not used to how this feels," Hoseok whines.

All feelings that aren't pleasure melt away. Yoongi licks and caresses in slow, deliberate movements that cause Hoseok to suck and lick in a similar rhythm, steadily building and drawing out arousal, as if they have all the time in the world and there's no need to rush. Hoseok thinks he's in love, thinks he could be sandwiched between the two of them for eternity—thinks the way he feels electrified is enough to cure all his pain and worries. But he knows it's the drugs; they're hitting him really hard.

Time and space operate differently, and as eternities pass in seconds, Jeongguk whines about feeling like he's going to come. Hoseok is so focused on Jeongguk that he doesn't feel the build quite as strongly, but the feeling of Yoongi's mouth is still so perfect and inviting that he lets it be this way, at least until he can swallow down the load that Jeongguk keeps trying to warn him about.

Hoseok sucks his cheeks in, and Jeongguk squeals, a pitchy nasally sound that Hoseok is all too familiar with making, and Jeongguk grabs his own hair tightly as he holds his head in place and fucks into his throat. Hoseok keeps Jeongguk's jaw relaxed and takes everything given to him, and when Jeongguk comes in his throat, Hoseok swallows it proudly, litters kisses on his cock and thighs, and thanks Jeongguk for coming for him.

As soon as Hoseok is finished focusing on his task, the overwhelming, shaky euphoria returns, and it feels like a dam has been broken, causing the pleasure to flood in. Hoseok falls forward on his thighs and whines as Jeongguk runs fingers through his hair and tells him what a good boy he is. He doesn't have a chance to whine about feeling like he might come before it rushes over him, and he comes hard. All he can do is whimper "Please" and "Thank you" over and over.

Yoongi's languid movements are heaven, and though Hoseok feels like the orgasm begins to wind down, it keeps coming, never stopping. It's too much, and Hoseok begins to worry he might experience a full mental collapse if it continues, but he doesn't want it to end. But then it does end. Yoongi stops, and Hoseok whines, even though he can still feel traces of pleasure tingle between Jeongguk's legs.

"I want you to sit on my face," Yoongi says as he crawls to the head of the bed and lays next to where Jeongguk sits. "Can you do that for me, baby?"

Hoseok looks up to see Yoongi talking to him and nods weakly. Limbs are still gelatin and so heavy, but Hoseok manages to shimmy Jeongguk's calves out of his pants, get out from between his legs and crawl to Yoongi. Yoongi pulls his shirt off and tosses it aside, and Hoseok sits up on Yoongi's hips and runs Jeongguk's hands up and down his body.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Hoseok mutters.

Yoongi smiles at Hoseok affectionately, then looks at Jeongguk, reaches a hand to pet Hoseok's cheek, and says, "You're beautiful too, baby."

Hoseok's breath hitches. He wants to be beautiful in Yoongi's eyes. He wants it so badly. Jeongguk leans down and kisses Yoongi deeply. Both men moan, and Yoongi reaches up to grip Hoseok's shirt to hold Jeongguk close.

"Your lips taste so good, Seokie," Yoongi whines against his mouth, and Hoseok gasps again. He can't begin to explain the euphoria he feels, despite not being able to experience the kiss that Yoongi shares with his lips. Jeongguk pulls out of the kiss and sits up. He removes Hoseok's shirt and crawls down to where Hoseok is, near Yoongi's hips.

"Kiss me," Jeongguk whines, and Hoseok leans down and kisses him—kisses himself. Hoseok likes how Jeongguk kisses, spinning his tongue gently while moaning. Jeongguk sucks on his bottom lip and smiles against him when he moans, and Hoseok thinks once more that he must be in love, though he knows that it's as effect of the drugs; they're still hitting him really hard.

Yoongi's hands rub up Jeongguk's thighs, and Hoseok whines. He remembers he was supposed to sit on Yoongi's face. Hoseok pulls from the kiss, and Jeongguk nods toward Yoongi to signal Hoseok to go and Hoseok chuckles. He suddenly feels shy, though he has no reason to, especially since he's not even in his own skin—especially since he's in skin that Yoongi loves and has memorized a thousand times over.

"Get over here, baby," Yoongi says, and Hoseok does as he's told. It's awkward to crawl up his chest and kneel around his head, but Hoseok gets where Yoongi needs to be, and Yoongi wraps his arms around Jeongguk's thighs to guide Hoseok right to where he wants him.

Yoongi wastes no time going back to work on Jeongguk's pussy, and Hoseok falls forward into the headboard, doing his best to angle Jeongguk's hips to not suffocate Yoongi. Yoongi seems unbothered—like he's done this many times before—and Hoseok closes Jeongguk's eyes and gets lost in the shimmering, all-encompassing pleasure once more.

A gasp followed by a deep, raspy whimper comes from Yoongi, and Hoseok looks back as best as he can to see Jeongguk sucking Yoongi's cock. He wishes he could get a better look at his own lips around Yoongi, taking Yoongi's shaft into his own throat. Yoongi's tongue pulls Hoseok back into Jeongguk's body, and this time he licks and sucks fast and hard like he wants Hoseok to crumble and come as soon as possible. Hoseok wonders if he can handle coming again or if it might be enough to stop Jeongguk's heart.

Yoongi pulls his mouth away and says, "Grind your hips down on me."

"Huh?" Hoseok asks, feeling suddenly very dizzy.

"Rub your pussy on my tongue and make yourself come."

Hoseok gives Jeongguk's hips a tentative swish against Yoongi's tongue, and although it's not the right spot, it feels good. He leans into the headboard and tries again, angling Jeongguk's hips down a little, and when Jeongguk's clit rubs on Yoongi's tongue, Hoseok trembles and whines.

"Oh," Hoseok says, realizing he can do this. "Okay."

It's awkward at first to swirl Jeongguk's hips and chase his own high, but once Hoseok finds a rhythm, he gets lost in it—completely swept away. Yoongi moans and whines while he keeps his mouth open for Hoseok, only occasionally sucking on Jeongguk's clit when he finds it in Hoseok's rhythm to do so. It's not as fast as a build as it was before, but it's exhilarating. Hoseok envies Jeongguk for getting to ride Yoongi's face often. Then, Hoseok feels silly about being envious and tries not to think about it right now—tries not to think about anything right now, which is impossible because all his mind can do is feel overstimulated and race.

Hoseok feels overwhelmed. So, so fucking overwhelmed. He leans into the headboard more and struggles to move Jeongguk's hips. Yoongi pulls him close and goes back to work on Jeongguk's clit, and Hoseok whines and shakes. There's an external shakiness that spreads throughout, but there's also an internal shakiness, like all the blood in Jeongguk's body is being pulled by magnets. Like he's full of glitter, and it's all shimmering under intense bright light.

"I don't know if I can come again," Hoseok whines. "I'm too—I'm so—intense. It's too intense."

"Wanna lay down, baby?" Jeongguk asks.

Hoseok nods and sits back, and Jeongguk and Yoongi somehow manage to get Hoseok onto the bed but not without creating a big, weird tangle of bodies. Once they shimmy around, Yoongi and Jeongguk lay Hoseok down and litter kisses all over his—Jeongguk's—face and neck and chest, and Hoseok giggles and pants. He's so sweaty; maybe he's even melting. Maybe he'll evaporate and disappear into the bed completely.

"I can't stay hard anyway," Yoongi mutters against Jeongguk's clavicle. "I don't know why I thought sex while coming up was wise. I was just excited to make you come."

Hoseok feels sad for Yoongi. "We'll make you come, I promise," he whines, and Yoongi chuckles.

"Baby, it's okay," Yoongi assures.

"I might need to go outside," Hoseok says, sitting up and shedding Jeongguk and Yoongi from him. Hot. He feels so hot.

"We can shower," Yoongi suggests.

A shower sounds good. So they shower. It's cramped and awkward, but they touch and hold and kiss, and Jeongguk and Yoongi focus most of their attention on Hoseok. When the water feels too cold, and his high starts to feel more evened out and less internally chaotic, they return to their wine and share a full bottle while swaying and dancing around the room to music Yoongi plays from a laptop.

Hoseok sometimes thinks about Namjoon, and he hopes that Namjoon is feeling relaxed and getting the clarity he needs. Hoseok knows that no matter what Namjoon chooses, he will accept. Even if it breaks him. Even if it shatters him into a million pieces, and he loses some of them and is never able to fully heal. He knows he'll have to let Namjoon do what he needs to because he's the one who fucked up.

Hoseok tries to tear his thoughts away from Namjoon, but it's hard to. When they're in a pile on the bed, hands stroking hair and breaths gasping a whimpering, it's hard not to think about Namjoon.

When they fuck again, over and over again, tangling their three bodies in ways that makes Hoseok dizzy and sore, he thinks about Namjoon. When they collapse into a sweating, writhing, sticky mess of intertwined limbs and exhaustion, he thinks about Namjoon. He thinks about how fucked everything is and how much he wishes he could just make it alright. But he knows he wouldn't go back and change a thing because he's so, so deeply infatuated with Yoongi that he can't imagine his life now without him. He can't imagine never jumping into Jeongguk's body again.

It's 4 am when Namjoon calls. Hoseok rolls out of bed in a sleepy search for his phone on the bedside table, but as he reaches for it with Jeongguk's tattooed hand, he realizes that he shouldn't answer it. How would he explain being jumped at this hour. Instead, he stares at Namjoon's photo on his phone, at his name in bright white letters across the top. Yoongi grumbles, and Hoseok realizes he never silenced the ringer and whispers, "Sorry."

Silence and darkness fill the room once more, and Hoseok sits on the floor holding his phone in Jeongguk's hands. He feels deflated, like a balloon filled to the brink of explosion, then let go to fly around the room as all the air pushes itself out, leaving him a vacant, hollow shell of unwanted, shimmering latex. Hoseok's screen brightens once more with a message, and when he reads it, his heart drops. The vines around his ribs clench so tightly that cracks begin to form.

Namjoon: I know it's 4, but I can't sleep. I told myself that if you picked up, we could talk it over, and I could begin to heal. But maybe it's for the best that we have some space. I'm going to stay with family for a while in Ilsan. I don't know when I'll be back. I'll call when I'm ready. Love you, Seok. Safe travels.

💛😰

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#hoseok smut #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #bts poly #bts smut #yoonkook smut #yoonkok #namseok #namseok smut #hoseok x namjoon x yoongi x jungkook #fic: dollhouse

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vailimia · 2 years

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I think it's time for another really long post that nobody's going to read.

This time, I'll collect all the information I've revealed about my OCs in one place, and list what information has since been retconned.

As always, click keep reading to keep reading.

I'll start with all the information I've revealed on Tumblr, most of which was revealed in my previous rambling posts.

First, Numeri isn't from Japan, and is instead from a different world, but one of her parents is from Japan.

In the post where I said this, I called that parent Numeri's father, but in more recent times I've realized that that word may not be the best word to describe her, and just calling her one of Numeri's moms would be less prone to misinterpretation, since this character is a woman.

Of course, "girldad" would be the most accurate term to use (in my opinion), but Numeri hasn't played Deltarune, and thus has never heard that term before.

In the same post, I also said that Fuyu was called Winter, however I already retconned that in a different post because I had decided that the story (if you can even call it that) taking place in Japan would make more sense, so none of the characters would have problems remembering or pronouncing Japanese names.

Fuyu being somewhat related to Numeri isn't entirely true, as they don't share a parent, but they do share a half-sister.

That half-sister not knowing she's related to Numeri stopped making sense to me after I thought about how Numeri came to Japan in the first place, so that's been retconned.

The other information about Fuyu in that post is still accurate, he does watch anime, he does really like sweet foods, he does have a very low body temperature (that hasn't caused medical problems for some reason), and he does hide the fact that he's a boy.

I also mentioned Trace in that post, but the only information I revealed about him was that he's a gardevoir, and that obviously hasn't changed.

The next post is a lot shorter and was meant to be more of a meme than a post talking about my OCs, but it did say that at a human school, there's a class made entirely of non-humans that think they're the only non-humans.

That has since been retconned, because it honestly doesn't make any sense, there are still non-humans at the school, just not all in the same class.

Also, the fact that I probably wouldn't make anything out of them has technically been retconned by the fact that I've posted stuff on Pixiv.

The next relevant post was specifically about backstories, and all the information in that post is still accurate.

Some of my characters do have abnormal backstories, like "runaway princess of hell", "boy who used forbidden magic to turn himself into a girl", or "descendant of someone cursed by Hera".

Other characters have relatively normal backstories with weird aspects like "genetically engineered monstergirls", "a man trying to have sex with every type of youkai", or "appearing from nothing".

Iris and Malaise's backstories are still the same as in that post, both of them are attending a Japanese high school for different reasons, Malaise is still a reaper trying to find a yandere, it still was almost 3am when I finished that post.

In the next relevant post, I said that I had revealed part of Natsu and Annabelle's backstories on Pixiv, that none of the characters I had revealed on Pixiv at the time are biologically male, that I don't have a name for the boy who turned himself into a girl yet, and that I play as the character who appeared from nothing in Spiral Knights.

None of that information has been retconned.

Next bit of information is something Trace revealed about himself, that being the fact that he used to have relations with a specific group of people who have an emblem that he put on his shield in his singleplayer Minecraft world, but that group disbanded a long time ago, he didn't provide any more details than that.

I think that's all the information I've revealed on Tumblr, so now the one piece of information I've revealed on newTumbl.

That information is just that Rose has a sister named Elion, who has a disguise.

What that disguise is has not been revealed.

Next, information I've revealed on Pixiv.

In the description of "Possibilities of a Shapeshifter", I revealed that Haru and Natsu are half-sisters, Natsu was raised by a snow woman (that's why she doesn't know how to shapeshift), and Fuyu and Aki exist.

In the description of "Perfectly Normal Jousting Match", I revealed that a club must have at least four members to be officially recognized, and Rose is the leader of the club that my Pixiv works focus on, since she was the one who got the initial three members (herself, Whitney, and Numeri) together in the first place.

In the description of "A Special Kind of Dullahan", I revealed that Annabelle doesn't have internal organs, and there are boys attending the school.

In my first tutorial, I revealed Whitney Rubia's last name.

In "Haru Being Weird", I revealed that Haru's gotten used to the weird feeling of body parts being in places they don't belong, and sometimes won't consider certain shapes to be a possibility until something (or someone) gives her the idea.

I also revealed a few lewd things there, but this isn't the place to say them.

In "Annabelle's Secret", I revealed that someone had changed Annabelle's body in the past, and that Rose had tried using transformative magic to achieve something similar but was unsuccessful.

The only non-lewd thing I revealed in the description of "Anywhere Penetration" is that Numeri isn't hurt if she loses her limbs, and she can grow them back without much effort, although that doesn't happen in the post.

Finally, I've also revealed what Whitney, Rose, Numeri, Haru, Natsu, and Annabelle look like in my Pixiv works.

I think that's everything I've revealed so far, I just wanted to put all of it in one place in case people want to know.

Maybe someday I'll show what my OCs look like on Tumblr, right now only a few images I have of them are allowed to be posted here.

#rambling #my ocs #tw sex mention

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kurokosworth · 3 years

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Countdown Image 2 Days Until Release: Peter White 🕖

#Otome #Otome Armada #Spade no Kuni no Alice #Heart no Kuni no Alice #spnkna #hnkna #Peter White #Alice in the Country of Spades #Alice in the Country of Hearts #hnkna Peter #Official Art #Otomate #QuinRose #changed the wording a bit since I just realized previous posts may have been a bit confusing regarding the days oop...#hopefully this makes more sense #I love his little rabbit form abububu #I still cannot believe they didn't even let Peter voice in his own countdown image like?? hELLO??

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maboroshi-no · 3 years

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Hamefura LN11 - Katarina’s post-confession talk with Geordo

Hello!

This is not a scanlation, but as I was reading Volume 11 of the Hamefura light novel, I felt the need to translate the scenes where Katarina decides to give respectively Geordo and Keith some kind of reply in regards to their previous love confessions.

So first, Geordo’s ! Enjoy!

Context:

Katarina had a talk with her father the previous day. He advised her to figure out her feelings sooner rather later, else she might realize one day she has already lost the one she loves.

Katarina and Maria had been summoned by the King who wanted to tell them about the succession struggle which occured when the previous king died, and how dark magic had been leaked then

Before meeting the king, Katarina had met a gorgeous blond young man at the shut-in uncle building, who told her she is a horrible person who toys with Geordo’s feelings. Katarina wonders if he might be the shut-in uncle.

After they meet the King, Geordo and Alan met up with Katarina and Maria.

Geordo and Alan were worried Katarina and Maria might despise them after hearing about what their relatives did. They felt relieved when Katarina and Maria told them they don’t think of them differently

While they escort them to their carriage back, Geordo tells Katarina she has forgotten her bag (which contained the Dark Covenant), so the two of them returns to the parlor to retrieve it.

Katarina’s POV

Katarina: "Thank goodness my bag is here! Thank you for coming with me, Prince Geordo."

I said this after taking back my bag . Prince Geordo smiled, and

Geordo: "No, it's quite alright. I did it on purpose, so please think nothing of it."

he said. Huh? "He did it on purpose?" But what? Looking at my confused face, Geordo made a suggestive smile.

Geordo: "Actually, I realized when we left the room that you were not carrying your bag, but since I wanted to have some alone time with you, I pretended I didn't notice."

I can't believe it! What a schemer! I was taken aback and then Geordo continued.

Geordo: "*chuckle*. I would also like to thank you once again for the words you said earlier. Since it was you, Katarina, I thought things would probably be alright even after you learn about the royal family's unsightly struggle, but hearing such gracious words really made me happy.

As he said this, his smiling face looked truly happy, which left me dumbfounded. Oh, so that's why! He just wanted to thank me once more! This is what I thought, but

Geordo: "Really, I fell in love with you all over again."

As he said this, he smoothly grabbed my back and stared directly into my eyes.

Katarina: "Eh?!!"

I involuntarily let out a weird yell but Geordo ignored my reaction and with his dazzling prince's smile,

Geordo: "My fiancée is the best! I want to hurry up and marry her!"

This is what he said. I could feel the temperature rising on my face at once. At the same time, what Father told me the other day popped into my head: "Supposing that in the future Prince Geordo really ends up being the one you love, if you keep delaying your marriage then he might break off the engagement in the meanwhile and marry another person. This is even more true since Prince Geordo has to uphold his position as a royal.", "You may lose the one you love while you are still figuring out your own feelings, so you should give it some serious thought so that it won't happen." I couldn't figure out my feelings... But I...

Katarina: "Umm, Prince Geordo, I..."

As I got flustered, I opened my mouth to say something and...

Geordo: "Are you scared?"

he said.

Katarina: "Huh?"

As I stared back at him in shock, his face didn't show his princely smile from earlier anymore, but an expression which looked somewhat painful.

Geordo: "Are you really scared when I approach you like this? I didn't notice it at first but since you shrivel more and more as I approach you, I started to think that maybe you are terrified of me. Am I wrong?"

I was lost for words as the "terrified" word stuck deeply into my heart. From my reaction,

Geordo: "Based on your reaction, I guess I was right. So you have been scared of me approaching you. I am sorry for not realizing it until now.

As he said this, he looked like he was about to cry. Looking at Geordo, this time it was the words of the young man I met earlier that crossed my mind.

Young man / Uncle Stuart?: "Even though he is begging for your love, you always ignore it, hurting him without even knowing it. You are the worst."

He is right. This can't go on like this. I readied myself and said:

Katarina: "Umm, no that's not it. Well, no, you are kinda not completely wrong... The thing is... I am not scared of you approaching me, I..."

For the first time, I expressed in words the feeling that I had buried deep inside my heart all this time.

Katarina: "I am scared of falling in love."

Geordo opened his eyes wide out of shock. Well, that's a given. Of course he would be shocked hearing such a puzzling answer. But this is the truth which has been inside me. At 8 years old, I regained the memories of my past life and soon after, I realized that I was inside an otome game and that I was the villainess in it. And also that my future was filled with doom flags. Katarina's doom was caused by her love for the prince. Seeing the prince she loved falling for another woman (the protagonist), she became jealous, engaged in cruel harassment and doomed herself. After realizing this, this is what I thought. Katarina's love led her to her doom. That's why Katarina must never fall in love. If she falls in love, she may become mad. And then this would be the end. Even while I was completely unaware of it, this feeling had always been deep inside my heart, and because I could not allow myself to be affected by love, I kept away from it. I, no, Katarina Claes can support the love of others, but she will never fall in love herself. She must not. This is how I had been doing, and then Geordo suddenly confessed to me. The prince I had been yearning for before I regained my memories confessed to me. But this feeling, "Katarina must not fall in love. She will be doomed if she falls in love.", had always been deep inside my heart and so I completely dismissed Geordo's feelings. That is why I unconsciously chased away from the corner of my mind the feelings that he had finally confessed to me. And then before I knew it, I forgot about it. I was scared of it. Falling in love, that is. And because of this, I made Geordo sad. It is just like that young man said. I am truly the worst. I must precisely tell him my feelings. I will not run away anymore. This was the first time I saw Geordo with a hurt expression like this, like he is about to cry. Looking at him I hardened my resolve. I picked the words to face the person who went to great trouble to confess his feelings to me.

Katarina: "I have always thought I might be doomed if I fall in love."

Geordo made a puzzled face, but still kept quiet and listened.

Katarina: "This is still true even now. I am scared of falling in love. That's why I couldn't face your feelings and ended up chasing them from the corner of my mind. I am really sorry."

Since I couldn't tell him about the otome game, the content of my explanation was filled with vague terms and I even thought "What is that supposed to mean?!". Even so,

Geordo: "Thank you for telling me, Katarina. I feel relieved knowing you are not scared of me."

he said, smiling at me gently, so I felt relieved.

Geordo: "But the fact that you are scared of love is quite troublesome."

He was right. "Katarina's love is a scary thing which is connected to her doom". While holding this feeling all this time, I didn't want to recognize this weak part of me and pretended I didn't see it. I did this unconsciously. That's why, even after Father asked me to seriously think about it, my fear took precedence and I delayed the task. But thanks to Geordo I have now fully realized it, so I want to change.

Katarina: "Until now, I had locked my fear in my heart and pretended I didn't see it. But I won't do this anymore. I will properly face my feelings... And then I'll do all I can so that I can face your feelings too, Prince Geordo.

As I said this, Geordo was beaming with happiness. As for me, whom he was looking at, I was now feeling embarrassed. I ended up feeling bashful and then I realized something. I declared I would properly face my own feelings, which is great and all, but then I remembered that right now, I had my doom in sight. The doom I am met with in the FL2 game. If I get doomed, I won't be able to face my feelings. Or more precisely, if things don't go well, I will just disappear from this world. Even at my best, I am the kind of person who can do only one thing at a time. Right now, I won't be able to face my fear of love upfront.

Katarina: "Umm, Prince Geordo, even though I just said I would face my feelings, I am actually facing some serious trouble right now, and it is only after I overcome them that I will be able to seriously get down to it, so..."

Suddenly taking back my words after making him this happy made me feel terrible, but after I said this, Geordo smiled.

Geordo: "Oh, that's right, you seemed somewhat uneasy since you joined the Ministry of Magic. I don't mind. I have waited all this time already, so a little more won't make a difference. So please rely on me whenever you are in trouble, okay?"

Hearing him say this, I felt relieved and thanked him. He had noticed the anxiety I felt since I joined the Ministry, along with my inner feelings. I was shocked. He was a bit off regarding my deeply hidden fear of love that, myself, wasn't aware of, but he still guessed right. It seems like, more than I thought, Geordo has always been watching me. He has always been by my side since I met him at 8 years old. One way or another, he has always helped me whenever I was in trouble. Even if I am now aware that I have been connecting love to my doom, I am still scared of love and I still don't understand it really well. But looking back, Geordo definitely is someone very precious to me. That's why, even if it is embarrassing, I want to tell him my honest feelings. I mustered all the courage I could and then said:

Katarina: "Umm... I am scared of love and I still don't understand this feeling very well, but your confession made me happy. I was really happy that someone as wonderful as you would tell me he loved me."

Handsome, brilliant, kind, reliable. There is no way I would not be happy if such a dreamy man confessed to me. That's right. At that time, when Prince Geordo confessed his feelings to me, I was actually happy. But my fear of anything related to love was stronger, so I immediately locked this feeling deep inside my heart. After I somehow managed to tell him this after all this time, I got so flustered that I dashed out of the parlor, leaving Geordo behind just like that. I want to do something about both my fear of love and this strange bashfulness that I feel because of my lack of immunity to love. My face is burning hot. It must be bright red right now. I ran full speed because I felt so embarrassed, and when I joined up with Maria and Alan, they thought my face was red because I ran. I was glad they did. "Where did Geordo go?" Alan asked me with a quizzical look, "It seems like some business came up", I lied. Right now, I was so embarrassed I couldn't see their faces really well. Finally, Maria and I left the castle and returned to the Ministry of Magic. The feelings that were deep inside my heart that I realized after Geordo pointed them out. I remembered that there was one more person whom I had to convey these feelings to. But I wonder if I'll be able to do it properly. With all the embarrassment I got today, I got a fever so high I could be bedridden.

Geordo POV

I, Geordo Stuart, was summoned by my father the King, Owen Stuart. He informed me that he would tell my fiancée, Katarina Claes, and the Wielder of Light, Maria Campbell, about the royals' unsightly succession struggle which took place in this castle before I was old enough to understand, how dark magic was used and leaked then, and how he would apologize to them as a royal from that time. It wasn't long ago since I heard, got shocked and felt ashamed as a royal about the details of how dark magic was leaked. Hearing this, I also felt terrible in regards to Katarina. I have admiration for my father as a king, I respect his attitude showing resolute fairness, and as a prince, I thought that what he is doing this time too is wonderful. But as simply "Geordo Stuart", my feelings over this were complicated. This is because, upon learning about the errors and the shame of the royals who are also my relatives, I thought Katarina would maybe hold me in contempt or give me a look full of mixed feelings. I had talked a little before to Katarina about the previous king and how there had been deaths occurring during the struggle. At that time too, I was afraid she would hold me in contempt, but with her straightforward eyes, Katarina told me: "You and the previous king are different people. Even knowing about the previous king doesn't change how you are in my eyes". I was so happy then. So things should probably be fine this time too. This is what I hoped. But would she really say the same thing even after hearing about these unsightly killings among relatives? If it were me, I am not sure I would be able to look at the relatives of the people who caused this struggle without holding it against them. As I thought this, my face naturally turned stiff. The time felt horribly long while the King was talking to them. And then, finally, I heard the King leaving. Right after, I and my younger brother Alan who, like me, had been waiting in the room, headed towards the room where Katarina and Maria were. I felt tense just knocking on the door. It was the first time that I felt like this. After hearing familiar voices from the inside of the room, I opened the door. When I entered the room, Katarina and Maria had their faces close, talking about something. They didn't seem to have realized right away that it was us when we entered, so when they saw our faces,

Katarina: "Prince Geordo! Prince Alan!"

Katarina shouted with a surprised face. I told the two of them with my usual smile the words that I had prepared. And then I did what I had to as a royal: I apologized to them for dark magic being leaked as a result of the unsightly struggle of my relatives. I couldn't allow this to end with only the King apologizing. My younger twin Alan also felt the same way. As both Alan and I lowered our heads, a dignified voice replied to us.

Katarina: "I accept your apology."

All while thinking it was extremely improper in such a situation to feel charmed by Katarina's resolute look, Alan and I both expressed our gratitude. And then, as "Geordo Stuart", I asked her a question I personally needed her to answer.

Geordo: "And so, what do you think of us?"

Alan added to my words.

Alan: "You heard the story, right? That was some horrible stuff. Do you despise us now?"

Silence fell for a moment in the room. I couldn't see Katarina's face.

Katarina: "I already said this before when you told me about your grandfather, but the two of you and the royals who took part in this struggle are different people to begin with. My opinion of the two of you cannot possibly change after hearing this story. Besides, I know each of your personalities very well."

Her answer was the same as back then. In her eyes that were looking straight at us, I couldn't see any falsehood, nor the contempt I was so worried about. Ah, Katarina really was the woman I imagined.

Maria: "I share the same opinion as Lady Katarina. Hearing this story didn't change my opinion of the two of you."

Maria, who was next to Katarina, also said this, which made me feel relieved once again. We thanked the two of them and told them their carriage back was ready. I escorted Katarina back for the first time in a while, and during that time I noticed she had forgotten the bag she was carrying. At first, I thought of telling her and picking it up myself, but then I reconsidered after this came to mind. If things went well, I could have a chance to be alone with Katarina. And then, things did go well, and my plan to be alone with Katarina succeeded.

Katarina: "Thank goodness my bag is here! Thank you for coming with me, Prince Geordo."

Katarina picked up her bag, and as she innocently looked back at me, I smiled and

Geordo: "No, it's quite alright. I did it on purpose, so please think nothing of it."

As I said this, she looked extremely shocked. Katarina is so pure, she could have never expected this.

Geordo: "Actually, I realized when we left the room that you were not carrying your bag, but since I wanted to have some alone time with you, I pretended I didn't notice."

As I said this, smiling, Katarina froze up with her mouth agape. This face too was cute.

After I said this, Katarina's mouth was now closed and she seemed lost in thoughts. She was probably thinking I wanted to be alone with her only because I wanted to apologize. It would be troublesome if she thought that, so I continued with this.

Geordo: "Really, I fell in love with you all over again."

As I said this, I grabbed her back and stared directly into her aqua blue eyes.

Geordo: "My fiancée is the best! I want to hurry up and marry her!"

In front of me, Katarina was now bright red. It seems like I could properly convey my intentions, so I felt relieved. However,

Katarina: "Umm, Prince Geordo, I..."

I sensed "that sign" from the now flustered Katarina, which made me sad. And then I finally asked her about the thing that I had been worried about.

Geordo: "Are you scared?"

As I asked this, Katarina yelled "Huh?!" with a shocked face.

Geordo: "Are you really scared when I approach you like this? I didn't notice it at first, but since you shrivel more and more as I approach you, I started to think that maybe you are terrified of me. Am I wrong?"

Since I confessed my feelings to her, Katarina would often stiffen up whenever I approached her. I was happy at first since I thought it meant she was now conscious of me, but lately I have the feeling that this stiffening withering condition is a manifestation of her fear. I couldn't accept a reality where the person I love the most in the world would be scared of me, so I always pretended I didn't notice it. And today I realized this was wrong. Even after hearing about this horrible story about my relatives, Katarina didn't look at me differently and wholeheartedly accepted it, like it was natural. So I want to properly accept her feelings too. Even if doing so would be oh, so painful to me. So I finally confronted her about what I have been averting my eyes from. I'll ask her myself and get hurt. And then, looking at Katarina who was lost for words, I knew my guess wasn't off, and I felt like my heart was torn to pieces. While I thought I might shamefully end up in tears,

Geordo: "Based on your reaction, I guess I was right. So you have been scared of me approaching you. I am sorry for not realizing it until now.

As I said this, Katarina looked like she realized something and then said this.

Katarina: "Umm, no that's not it. Well, no, you are not completely wrong... The thing is... I am not scared of you approaching me, I..."

Katarina thought a little and...

Katarina: "I am scared of falling in love."

This is what she said. I was extremely shocked by this completely unexpected answer. She is afraid of falling in love? To begin with, I have never seen Katarina being scared. She has always been cheerful and bright, and acted like there wasn't anything she was afraid of. Besides, she reads romance novels and has been enjoying them. As a result, given she is dense whenever it comes to love, I just thought she was a late bloomer like her adopted younger brother. But it seems like it wasn't all there was to it. Katarina continued with a resolute face.

Katarina: "I have always thought I might be doomed if I fall in love."

"She will be doomed if she falls in love"? What kind of thinking process could result in such a conclusion? This is just so strange. However, since Katarina is making such a serious face, I kept silent and waited for the rest of the explanation.

Katarina: "This is still true even now. I am scared of falling in love. That's why I couldn't face your feelings and ended up chasing them from the corner of my mind. I am really sorry."

As she said this, Katarina lowered her head. Honestly, I couldn't help wondering how she could reach such a conclusion, and there were also many points which bothered me, but even so, I felt deeply relieved.

Geordo: "Thank you for telling me, Katarina. I feel relieved knowing you are not scared of me."

I felt something akin to despair when I thought she might be scared of me, but just knowing this was not the case greatly saved me. Still,

Geordo: "But the fact that you are scared of love is quite troublesome."

I am glad Katarina is not terrified of me, but I can't bring myself to approach her if she is scared of love like this. Katarina is really precious to me, so I don't want to scare her needlessly. As I tried to think of ways around this, Katarina said

These were truly joyful words. A wide smile naturally formed on my face. My unrequited love started at childhood and lasted for so long, even though the one I love is my fiancée. I kept trying to convey my feelings, but they didn't reach her, and when I finally thought they did, she would just forget them. These had been such long days. She has finally said she would face my feelings and consider them. I have never been this happy in my life. I felt like I had finally been rewarded a little for keeping with this unrequited love. As I thought this, feeling deeply moved, Katarina shyly said this:

Hearing these words, I remembered how Katarina seemed different after joining the Ministry of Magic. She seemed uneasy about something. I observed the same thing when we entered the Magic Academy. I noticed a long time ago that Katarina had some kind of secret she wouldn't talk to us about. Since she wouldn't talk about it, I pretended I didn't notice and just made sure she could feel at ease and that I could always help her if something happened. This time, I was glad that she talked about it for the first time.

As I said this, smiling, Katarina looked relieved and thanked me. I have waited all this time already. A little more really won't make a difference. I was really happy I could hear about Katarina's real thoughts. As I felt a warm and fuzzy feeling in my chest, Katarina made a somewhat grim face. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but Katarina was faster.

Katarina said this, her face bright red, and then she ran and left the parlor, her face still red. I was left all alone... I remained here, unable to move. Katarina's words kept repeating in my head over and over again. My confession of love and my approaches made her stiffen up. There were days when I thought that this late blooming girl didn't really enjoy my approaches and that she may even find them bothersome. I realized that for her, my confession was "exciting, but not really something she was happy about". But then she said: "I was really happy that someone as wonderful as you would tell me he loved me.". As I muttered to myself that I needed to confirm that the words from earlier were not a figment of my imagination, my body suddenly became hot. Right now, my face must probably be so red there could be steam coming out of it. I have always loved her. This special girl who changed my gray world. This fact never changed even while growing up, and being with her, I steadily felt so many emotions I didn't know before. Today, I realized for the first time that being overcome with extreme happiness would render me unable to move.

#hamefura #bakarina #my next life as a villainess: all routes leads to doom #katarina claes #geordo stuart

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mintelepathy · 3 years

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"How did my underwear end up here?"

idol!jimin x reader/oc

established relationship

word count: +1.0k

genre: fluff

warnings: none

summary: oc just bought a bunch of lipsticks and can't help but try them on jimin's lips

mlist

You were scrolling through social media as you waited for jimin to be done with his shower. He went to your apartment earlier that day to spend some time with you, but time passed by so fast that you asked him to stay the night there, and of course, there was no way he was going to lose the opportunity to be with you for as long as you both could.

"Do you still have some of my clothes here babe?" he asked as he made his way out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, his face completely bare and his black hair wet. He was unbelievable pretty, the prettiest human being you've ever met to be more precise.

"Yeah, there should be something in my closet, I was doing the laundry the other day and I found some of your stuff there" you left your phone on the bed as you got up to help him find his clothes.

"How did my underwear end up here?" he asked when you handed him his clothes and you couldn't help but giggle at his question.

"Do I really have to answer that?" you side eyed him trying to hide the smile forming on your lips.

You kept looking into your closet to find something you recently bought as he went back to the bathroom to get change. He didn't take too long because when you made your way to sit on the bed he was already done.

"What's that?" he asked when he saw a box in your hands.

"Lipsticks and lip glosses"

"Are you going to do your makeup right now?" he jumped into the bed and grabbed one of the lipsticks to take a closer look at it.

"Actually, can I put these on your lips?"

"I've got some nice lips uh?" he said jokingly but also knowing the fact that your lips really had an effect on you.

"Can I?" you asked him again as you rolled your eyes.

"Sure, my lips are all yours" he leaned over and when his face was close enough to yours he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips.

He laid on his back and you crossed your legs to get more comfortable.

Even though he had just showered, you firstly wanted to do some skin care for him for at least a few minutes.

You grabbed a face mask from the same box from earlier and you put it on his face after you tied up his hair. You needed to wait twenty minutes and while waiting you decided to give him a gentle massage on his neck and shoulders.

You knew how much he practiced everyday and how sore his muscles ended up being after dancing for hours, so it was actually really usual of you to give him a massage everytime you had the chance.

Also you couldn't love more the fact that he always lets you take care of him just like he always takes care of you.

Twenty minutes later you removed the mask off his face and threw it to your side. You traced circular patterns across his face to help it absorb the rest of the product and there you were done.

"I almost fell asleep, that was so relaxing" he said as he opened his eyes. "Thank you"

"You don't need to thank me" you said as you ran your fingers through his locks and then you grabbed a few lip glosses and lipsticks to put them on his lips. "Chim, choose one" you handed him five lipsticks first.

"This one" he chose one with a subtle red tone.

You applied it carefully on his lips to make sure you did not mess up, and once you finished you gave him a little mirror so he could see how the color looked on him.

"It looks so good on you" you said staring at his lips and only his lips.

"Okay, I may actually use this from now on, I like it"

"Now choose one of these" You said as you handed him some lip glosses.

He chose one that was almost transparent and you excitedly applied it on top of the previous colour.

"Wow" you couldn't believe how good and kissable his lips looked. If his natural lips already had an effect on you, imagine seeing them so glossy and plumped just like they were now.

"Babe, close your mouth" he said smiling as he slightly touched your chin with his index finger.

You tried four more different colors but before finishing you wanted to mess up with him a little bit, so you grabbed a really deep and dark red lipstick and put him on his lips but this time you didn't really want to be careful, and it only took him a few seconds to notice it before he sat straight on the bed.

"You will regret this" he didn't even give you time to escape because he was already grabbing you by the waist and tossing you around on the bed.

He was now covering your face and neck with kisses so fast that you couldn't stop laughing. At that point there was no doubt your face was totally painted in red, he didn't miss a single spot.

"I look ridiculous, don't I?" he didn't have to answer because his face already said it all. "Since I'm already a full tomato, I wouldn't mind a few more kisses you know?"

He smiled and leaned towards you again but this time he kisses weren't fast and ticklish like the ones from a moment ago but instead these were full of softness.

"Wait here, I'll go grab something to clean that face of yours" He said before getting up and you waited for him just like he told you.

It was at that moment when you realized that if someone asked you what makes you happy, you wouldn't doubt to say that those kind of moments you spend with him were the ones that made you feel the happiest.

He is the person who makes you happy, and nothing could change that.

♡

A like or reblog is always appreciated🤍

Hey I'm back, school has been being hell lately and things weren't easy with my mind full focused on the boys comeback, but I'll try to post more things during this month👀

Btw, stream butter

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thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness · 3 years

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Spice e-plus interview Die & Toshiya 27th April 2021

DIR EN GREY: What’s the current mood of a band that chose to move forward even in times of Corona? DIR EN GREY is releasing their 32nd single "Oboro" on April 28th. After a series of cancellations and postponements of their lives due to the Corona outbreak, the band continues to move forward with activities such as “Explosive screening ‘Meguro Rock-May-Kan GIG”, an unattended live performance recorded at Meguro Rock-May-Kan GIG, that is being screened at live houses all over the country. We asked Die (Gt) and Toshiya (Ba) remotely about the shocking music video, the new song "Oboro", and the current band mood.

Notes before reading: This is Die and Toshiya’s interview for the Japanese website Spice E-plus published on April 27th. Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes or any confusing parts. Links or credits to this post when the content is reposted or captured in other SNS is appreciated :) --- Original interview: Here

Text by: Yohsuke Hayakawa ---This interview was done on the last day of the “Explosive screening ‘Meguro Rock-May-Kan GIG” but, even though there is no audience in that live, the band could play together on a stage for the first time in a while.

Die: That’s right. There was no audience, however at the time of recording there were some moments in which it was difficult to play as there were no limits. The fact we were able to get together for the first time in a long time and play together as a band was simply touching/ emotional. However, it becomes difficult if you can’t see the audience. Last year we did an unattended live broadcast but that was the first time and as it was broadcasted in real time, I was nervous. In that sense, this time was a bit different from the previous live without audience we did. -How was the “Meguro Rock-May-Kan GIG” for you, Toshiya? Toshiya: First of all, I think it was the best thing to be able to show movement as a band. Also, I’d say overwhelming? About being able to play together, I think the words I’d use would be “happy” and “fun”.

-Ah, it felt like returning to a place that it’s like the origin of the band. Toshiya: That’s right. When the five of us played together for the first time, it was interesting and fun, somehow, I think I was really nervous about it. It’s not something that paralyzes you, I think it was a natural feeling after all. In this special environment because of Corona, it was like the first time we played together, I thought again “after all, this is it”. -In terms of freshness, you also had the chance to play “Ochita koto no aru Sora” (digital single released in August 2020) live for the first time. Toshiya: Yes. After all, I could realize that as opposed to when you play it with headphones, the rhythm is adjusted in an atmosphere in which the air is moving around. Die: Actually, I felt it was a song that felt familiar and I was playing it while feeling that if we went on tour, I would be able to create more and more grooves.

“ We can’t play lives but as we are making songs for the album, we are moving forward. I’m hopeful because of that” (Die) -Along with the latest songs, there were some nostalgic songs that suit “Meguro Rock-May-Kan GIG”, especially “JEALOUS” was a surprise. Moreover, it was the original version, not the “reverse” one. Die: Hahaha. Well, we’ve played old songs on the "mode of ~" tours, so it’s a song we can still play. However, the tempo of the songs at that time was too different from what it is now (laughs). It’s simple, but it feels like I’m playing a song from another band. Toshiya: Regarding “JEALOUS”, we were planning to play it at the cancelled tour『TOUR20 Sogai』 - I didn’t expect to heart it at this timing. Hearing it after a long time…. the impression I got is that the sense of consistency has increased in “JEALOUS”. Die: Hehehe. Toshiya: I think that's right. As we didn’t listen to the click (of the metronome) in the old songs, if someone was going faster, everyone would go faster to keep up the rhythm, and if someone messed up, everyone would be drawn into that. In that sense, I had a lot of freedom but as recent songs (the rhythm) are matched by this clicking, in order to do that, I tried “JEALOUS” using a metronome this time. That’s why I think you got that impression that it “clicked”. Die: Well, I think we should had done it more freely. Not using a metronome click as we used to do, the tempo of the song is determined by the feeling of the venue. Certainly, at that time, everyone was doing it like that so I wish we could do it in that way this time too. Toshiya: Yes, that way is a possibility as well. If we have a chance, I think it would be good to do it in such a highly flexible situation. Well, from time to time there will be different rhythms within the band, if the members are simply playing at that moment and doing well, I think the audience will listen to it naturally and will go with it comfortably. -I see. So, it’s been said for a while you were in the process of making an album, has your mindset changed since when you were working in “Ochita koto no aru Sora", which was done in a relatively early stage of this Corona situation, until now? Die: For me personally, I don't think it has changed. From the beginning, my feelings are heading towards a new album. We are releasing a single this time, but we were working on arranging different songs in parallel, so the mood is basically the same. We haven't been able to play lives since last year due to the corona, but that doesn't mean we've changed the way we make it. Basically, it hasn’t changed our way of working remotely. “When I listened to the melody, I felt the hope that "I'm sure we can make something beyond our imagination next time." (Toshiya) -So, how about you, Toshiya? T: Personally, there have been quite a few changes during that time. The world situation has changed due to the Corona situation and I wondered if we could released the single we made and if the fans would listen to it. I want to play concerts but I can’t do it……how could say it?....this is my point of view but….it’s like I didn’t know what’s the purpose of the band, it’s a bit confusing for me. It's a big thing for me to think that way. Well, now I feel like I have no choice but to move forward. Until that seemed like that, I was thinking where I should rely on, I felt like, where should I set a goal? -Do you mean now after such a period? I wonder if there was a moment in which those feelings you had went up as the new songs for the album took shape. Toshiya: That's right. I haven't seen the goal yet, but I'm working on pre-production with the band right now. After that there will be a period in which the songs will be released. I was listening to the songs that the members brought there, and it was really interesting for me. -Oh, is it interesting? T: Yes. It's completely different from the songs I made myself, and when they pass through the filters of each members, they become versatile and I think that’s very interesting. I don't actually see the members face to face and interact with them but when I listened to the songs, I felt the hope that "Oh, I'm sure we can make something beyond our imagination next time". I think the other members might also hope for that, or renewed their feelings like about it like, "I have to do my best for DIR EN GREY". Die: Well, about that you mentioned, making songs for the album ... You can see hope as Toshiya said, we can’t play lives, but we're moving forward. I feel hope in that. -That you had to work on the album during this corona situation had a positive effect on your mind. Die: But after all, there is a continuous cycle for the band, touring and producing, and one of them is missing. I don't feel the that tension there. So, while thinking “There is nothing we can about it because we can’t play lives", we are making the next new album and continuing with the hope that later we will be able to tour again. -As a result of concentrating on production in such an environment, do you feel a good response in what you are creating now? T: Of course, there is a response, but I wonder if it’s really good to pack our current feelings together in it. I haven’t found a decisive factor yet. Several complications came out quite a bit but, maybe it’s the way it is now, and it and I guess it’s not over yet. Die: Rather than “in this kind of situation”, the hurdles are simply rising. Everyday, there are many....many....(laughs) -Hahaha. Was that so? Die: Yes. It’s always the same but, if you find a keyword or a hint to the next album, it will lead you to make several songs. Now I think it is still part of our work to find that. I can’t really say at this point what kind of specific feeling is but, if we find it, we can change the shift, or it will be easier to find the direction of the album. Right now, we are exploring this aspect and we haven’t come to any conclusion yet. There will be a moment it would be like “this is the atmosphere” and it will flow in that way, so I guess it will be easier to go that way. We have no option but explore it further. “It's been 24 years since the band was formed, and it’s like the challenges we are going through are also reflected in the MV, it’s not like we are going to sit back and rest on our laurels” (Die) -I think the song that gives you a glimpse of how the next album will be it’s the new single “Oboro”. At the time of this interview, just the 15- second MV teaser was released but….no, it already is having a strong impact! Toshiya: Hehehe Die: (Smiles) As for the MV, the concrete idea came out from Kyo, and from that idea everyone went to do it in that direction but, well, it’s like it can’t be done without us, right? It’s been 24 years since the formation, and it seems that the things we are challenging are also reflecting in things like that. It’s not like we are going to sit back and rest on our laurels. -Yes. I feel you are a band that doesn’t know the meaning of “withering” and in a good sense, doesn’t settle down. Die: That’s right. When I was shooting the MV, I talked a bit with Kyo, I was like “Isn’t this too edgy? It’s too much”. Probably, I think that a scene like this can be shown firmly even in a MV where only 5 people play, and I think it can be expressed in a simple form, but DIR EN GREY isn’t just there, after all, I thought we had to beat in/smash down more and more. So, the MV set this time reminded me of the atmosphere when we debuted, I was feeling like it was still aggressive and no good. -In an era when there is a call for compliance/ obedience, you must have an image of reliance. Die: Haha. But there is a part that it can’t be played (on TV etc…) (laughs). -It’s true (laughs). Toshiya: Well, so this is also part of DIR EN GREY. This talk we just had, I wonder if this scene with the five members playing is also part of what DIR EN GREY is. Personally speaking, I want to try to go to other places rather than this one at the next chance. I still don’t know what that would be, and when it comes to what we are actually going to do, I think everyone, including myself, will be concerned about it again. However, if some form remains, I would like to do something that it’s constantly evolving. -When it comes to the style of your MVs, you want to be a band that has no limits. Toshiya: That's right. For example, DIR EN GREY is gloomy, isn't it? DIR EN GREY is heavy, difficult, and intense, isn't it? Of course, I think it's an option that we can be caught like that (in a MV) but if we even want to surprise ourselves, after all I think I want us to keep working as hard as we can. I’m sure we jumped over those limits but maybe….just maybe….I think that’s the things the 5 members are looking for…. -In 24 years of activity as a band, if now it’s time to shake off everywhere, that’s your strength as a band. Toshiya: Yes, I think so. -So, "Oboro" is a ballad with a power and lyrics unique to DIR EN GREY, I felt the core was made in a way to make you listen to the song and the live performance of it in a fresh shape. It’s because each part is powerful, even though there are instruments in it that are not the usual ones in the band. As for the arrangements that the band did, was it simply a scraping work? Die: Now it’s simpler than it used to be, we’ve been focusing more on how to make the sound that’s in more powerful than actually just adding more. As I had that mental image,without overdubbing the guitar arrangement as much as possible, I went in the direction of reducing it. It might be a bad way to say this but, I approached the arrangements with the feeling that this is what I’m going to play live later, so it was like “don’t do anything crafty/pretentious”. -It seems that you are using a Fender Jazzmaster for recording, did you do that choice because of what you just said? Die: That's right. After all, for chord stroke parts, etc… I’m going to play with that guitar and that tone quality later. So, when I tried to use that kind of chord progression for the first time in a while, it was simple, but it felt like something fresh. It really resonated with me, and when I listened to it myself, I simply thought, "Oh, that's good" (laughs). -Hahaha. That’s good. Is that feeling of being a raw band an essential point for you? Die: Well, that's right. At the so-called chorus part, it wasn’t just about filling the backing with the low notes of the guitar. I also took on a new challenge to be able to see the scenery further. “I think there will surely be something that makes it fun for the band, fun to match our sounds again, there will be something that it’s going to feel interesting for sure.” (Toshiya) -I see. Also, the bass phrase is a basic one, but it’s done with an approach that makes each note stand out, including the tone quality/timbre. Toshiya: Regarding “Oboro”, I simply thought the dynamic image of it would be the most attractive thing, so I wanted to hear each and every sound without really doing anything extra. Up until now, there were too many things we wanted to do, and we wanted to include that and this as well, I had a sound barrier, but I couldn't hear what I wanted to hear. While narrowing down the main points and making it possible to listen to each part you want to hear firmly, still, each of the members started working on it with the idea that to be able to listen to each part of it would be the virtue of this composition. - As a result, the bass sounds with a thick sound image that has a strong presence. Toshiya: That's right. At the end, I think the part where you can hear the sound of the bass alone is quite distorted, but that is the tone through all the song, and the sound is quite distorted. However, when the sounds overlap, the low feeling is more noticeable than the distortion. Normally, if it is distorted, it tends to overlap when you join all the parts. However, as I said earlier, each member was thinking about how they wanted to hear their own sound, and even if it is distorted very much, the sound has a strong presence. I think I was able to reach such a result firmly. -While setting up the coordination/the harmony of the musical instruments, is your main idea oriented toward making a song “that makes people listen to it”? Toshiya: Yes, I have in mind that it’s going to become a song. After all, it’s because I’m thinking it will be a full song. However, I think at that point the band sound has become unbeatable. Die: First of all, the basics of a song (without the lyrics) start once the instrumental part is recorded. At that point, I still have no idea what kind of song we are getting into, so after the approach of how it’s going to be the singing part actually comes, the task is replacing some parts with a backing that makes the most of the lyrics. I’m always trying to figure out how to make the lyrics stand out. -I'm looking forward to hearing "Oboro" live, but recently you announced a live performance at the Tokyo Garden Theater ("Sogai") on May 6th. After cancelling the tour and Pia Arena MM performance scheduled last year, does this live performance with audience mean that, after all you have been through, you can see a way that the band can perform in this situation? (* It was announced that this "Sogai" live will be postponed due to the announcement of the state of emergency on April 23rd.) Toshiya: The members and the staff included talked about this a lot, but in the end, after a lot of discussions we came to the conclusion that it couldn’t be “as under these circumstances we can’t do it, we won’t do it’ but rather, the talk went into the direction of “If we don’t do it, we won’t accomplish anything”, of course, there is a national guideline for lives and we have to obey it. While thinking about that, as for DIR EN GREY, nothing will work unless we take action. If you don't take a step, nothing will happen. If you don't move now and say "Let's wait for the time to come", it’s more like, “when will that time come?”. - That's true. Toshiya: Then, instead of waiting for the time to come, we thought it would be better to make "now" the right time for us. - While there is a change in your previous mindset, you made the best choice you can make now. Toshiya: That’s right. Our mindset is simply different from those days. Die: As Toshiya said, if you don't experience a live performance during Corona, nothing will come out, and if you simply say, “we won't do a live concert during Corona," that's all. I think we should also have the experience of a live performance under the regulations. At the moment, we can’t ask everyone to come, but it's important for the future that we don't wait without moving at all, that we take a step forward and experience this kind of live. It’s a live that was decided with no idea of how it will turn out. -Is it necessary for yourselves to continue the band in the future? Is it also a trigger/spark for you? Toshiya: Yes. We felt that we couldn't get anything unless we acted on our own to get something. We had a discussion about what we could do while following the guidelines, and we thought that it was the live concert that would be the spark/trigger for us, so I would like to take on the challenge of the next live concert with that decision. As I mentioned at the beginning of this interview, I think there will surely be something that makes it fun for the band, fun to match our sounds again, there will be something that it’s going to feel interesting for sure. In addition, although there is a limit on the number of people who can attend the live, this time there will be audience there. It’s a commonplace but, I think we can get something like a synergistic effect by colliding with the people who is going to come. - It will finally be a live with audience in front of you. Die: That's right. However, the hurdles are still rising. You have to make a live concert following a guideline such as half of the capacity of the venue or not being able to shout/scream. I don't think it's good to say, "As the audience can’t shout/scream, we are not sure about doing it". Since we decided to do it, I think we have to do a DIR EN GREY live that has never been seen before. The future setlist and so, we have to change the method itself…. There is no point in doing it unless we get to convince all the fans who come to see us under these circumstances. “I’m glad I came”, “I’m glad I was able to see it”, things like that, I want to make a live that everyone can think of.

#dir en grey #die #toshiya #translation #toshiyatranslations #spice e-plus #oboro

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gingersnappe-9 · 2 years

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Quisiera: Hey, Stranger (7)

Javier Peña / F!Reader; Post Narcos

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2.2K words

Warnings: minor use of profanity

The Roadhouse wasn’t too noisy, or too busy. It was actually pretty nice. Nicer than the little dive bar Javi frequented, with a livelier crowd as well. It was a watering hole for the younger professionals of the area looking to wet their whistle after a long day. Javi and you were no exception to this phenomenon.

Javi had let you pick where the two of you went out next since he’d surprised you with the restaurant the last time. Admittedly, he was a bit nervous about it after he’d passed the decision on to you, fearing you’d pick somewhere better than he had taken you, and that you had just been polite about the whole thing. The Roadhouse was comfortable and familiar, but Javi still felt bad. Each protest on the car ride over was met with equal reassurance that everything was fine and there was no need to fuss.

“I promise you, Javi. It’s where I want to go. Their loaded burgers are the best and you get such a good deal on the house margaritas. I just want to hang out and have fun. Simple, and good fun.” The look in your eye as you spoke was almost impish. Like you were hiding something. “And my friend told me they recently refurbished the pool table and I know I’m gonna be $20 richer when I beat your ass.”

It quelled the nerves quietly waiting to rupture in Javi’s subconscious. The two of you continued the harmless banter the car ride over. Javi felt a bit silly worrying about his outfit for the evening, much like he had the first time he’d gone out to dinner with you. He was so worried you were going to change your mind that he may or may not have left a nicer jacket in the backseat just in case. But once he saw you in a get up of jeans, an old band t-shirt, one of your trophy buckles and a hat, his over anxious nerves settled -- only slightly.

Once the hostess walked over to greet the pair of you, you requested a booth claiming a friend or two might be stopping by later. Javi didn’t question it. He was more than happy to watch as your hips canted with the rhythm of your stride or the way your hair swayed with the easy roll of your shoulders as you weaved around other patrons and tables.

The inside of the restaurant was beginning to pick up more and more patrons as the sun settled lower in the sky. The exposed wooden beams that held up the ceiling were littered with trinkets and souvenirs of many unforgettable nights -- allegedly stolen license plates from framers’ tractors, the obligatory longhorn rack hung above the threshold, the owner’s first dollar ever made and so many more -- Old friends gathered around high top tables and laughed at dirty and somewhat obnoxious jokes. Bets were being placed on games of darts and pool. Clusters of people cheered around the few TVs above the bars with a football game here, a soccer match there, and a rodeo off to the far side. The comradery and the atmosphere was what attracted people and turned them into regulars. It was easy to see why you’d picked this place. It was where you went to hang out with the people you enjoyed.

“What’re you grinning at?” You asked coyly from behind the rim of your drink.

Javi didn’t even realize he was smiling. He was normally so preoccupied with other thoughts -- memories of horrible times long gone, but still haunting his waking moments -- that he almost never unconsciously smiled. But here he was with you, having a drink, eating the house nachos and buffalo wings you’d ordered as a starter, smiling.

“I guess I’m happy being here with you.”

There was a subtle shift in your features, the faint glint of mischief had faded to something softer: endearment.

You placed your glass down for a moment and reached across the table top with your other hand to place it on top of Javi’s. You held his gaze for a moment before saying, “I’m glad I can be here with you too.”

Javi blamed it on the beer starting to float into his system -- even though he’d only had three quarters of the bottle -- otherwise he never would’ve been man enough to admit that the sentiment of your words managed to pierce his hardened exterior. Your hand absorbed the heat from his and exchanged it with your own. Javi could feel the callouses from years of handling bridles and the demand of your intense job. And when the slight heat of blush threatened to spread across his cheeks, Javi, once again, blamed it on the beer. Then you went on again doing that wonderful thing you do that set Javi’s mind at ease, “And I’m still looking forward to being twenty bucks richer before the end of the night.”

You were such a joker and Javi wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The drinks you started out with turned into another, and eventually an entire pitcher of the house famous margarita. Bad jokes, and happy moments that would later turn to fond memories were made. The two of you continued getting on like thieves when you asked a somewhat odd question.

“Who would you say your best friends in the world are?”

Javi could read in your face that the margaritas were starting to take a stronger hold over you. Your shoulders slumped more, your eyes were just a hint glassy, and your smile broke out easier. It was a good look on you, content in mind, body, and company -- which made it easier for Javi to answer with, “I don’t know if I’ve ever had a best friend.”

You visibly stiffened a bit. It seemed your mind fought to find the right words before speaking again, “Okay, maybe not a best friend, but perhaps a good friend?”

Javi genuinely paused and considered your words carefully. A good friend. A good friend. A good friend. Sure he was popular growing up. Girls liked him, and guys seemed to revere him and his sociabilities. As he grew older, he learned about himself more and more. What he liked, wanted, and more accurately, expected from his life. They shifted and morphed with time and life circumstances, as did the people around him. Javi had friends. But a good friend? He knew those were the kind who pulled you out from the blackouts. The ones who called you out on your bullshit. The people or person there during the good shit as well as the bad. Thinking about it now, Javi realized how few genuinely good people he had in his life. He pondered who in his life he would possibly bestow that honorable title to.

“It’s… not something I think about often. But I guess if there was ever one guy I’d say was a good friend it would be my former partner. Him… and you.” The words left his mouth quicker than he realized but in them there was only truth. Javi felt it the second he waited for your response.

“Your old partner Steve Murphy, right? From Colombia?” Your voice was easy, allowing Javi to lean into the moment and not think about things too much. He was tired of thinking too much. He was going to try and just be when he was with you.

“Yeah. That idiota…” Javi paused and thought about his ex-partner, “That idiota traveled to a country he didn’t even speak the language of because he knew he could do something to help prevent innocent people from dying. He helped me pull off some of the craziest shit I’d ever done in my career. He was there for me in a lot of ways.” At the risk of getting too sentimental, he finished off his statement with, “And if you ever tell anyone I said that I’ll deny ever having knowing you.”

You of course giggled. “Sorry hombre, but there’s photo evidence. You’re stuck with me.” Then you had the balls to wink at him. “You keep in touch with him?”

Javi answered with a small twinge of guilt, “Not really. We gave one another a call once we were both back in the States. You know I’m not really good at that kind of stuff.” And washed down his statement with a hardy swig of his drink.

“Oh, I don’t know. Seems like you two got along great. Maybe you just need to meet up again.”

Javi playfully rolled his eyes. He knew the odds he’d see Steve again in the near future were slim to none. It’s not that he didn’t like the guy or think about him and Connie, or their sweet little baby, every now and again… it was just that he was bad about this stuff. Telling or showing people he cared about that he did in fact care.

Javi was about to take another swig of his drink when he heard, “Hey, Stranger.” in a voice so familiar he swore it had to be a ghost.

~~~

You had never seen a better expression in your entire life. The way Javi’s eyes widened, the speed at which he turned around to gander at the tall, blonde-haired man standing off to his side was priceless.

It took Javi a second before he finally managed to speak, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Steve and you laughed. “Someone who knows how to actually use a phone called me.”

Javi whipped his head back around to look at you. You just couldn’t help but grin like a giddy child. It had been killing you keeping this big a secret from Javi for the past week and a half. You weren’t sure you could pull it off, but by a stroke of sheer dumb luck, you’d managed. That day Javi came home from working on the fence line he’d nearly caught you slipping the scrap piece of paper with the Murphy’s contact information into your back pocket. You thought you were done for. Luckily though, Javi was too tired and distracted with the talk of food that evening to be paying too close attention. You’d called the number and a woman answered the phone, it was Steve’s wife Connie. You told her that you were trying to surprise Javi with a friendly visit from a friend since the both of you knew that men would never call their friend to simply say hey man, I miss you.

Connie thought it was a brilliant idea since she missed Javi too and immediately coordinated with Steve to take the week off and fly over to Texas for an impromptu visit. They were going to stay at your house for the time being and had arrived earlier that morning.

Steve was better looking than how Javi had described. Tall and lean in stature with good bone structure and a well groomed mustache. His wife was as sweet and sharp as could be. She absolutely loved the idea of messing with Javi about as much as Steve did. Something about payback for all the late nights of keeping Steve at the office in Bogotá.

But to see the look on Javi’s face when Connie popped into view from behind Steve was just as sweet to witness. He immediately stood up and gave her a hug.

“Oh sure. You ain't changed one bit. Give the lovely lady all the affection and leave nothing for the man who saved your sorry ass more times than you’d care to admit.”

Everyone laughed.

“Seriously, what the hell are you two doing here?” Javi questioned whilst patting Steve on the shoulder.

“I already told you,” Steve quipped, “Someone who actually knows how to use a phone called us up.”

Javi swung back to look at you with an unbelievable grin. “Eres una pequeña descarada inteligente.” You clever little minx.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. But once everyone was over the shock factor, the Murphys shuffled into the booth and Javi sat next to you. Everyone exchanged further pleasantries; Connie was thrilled to finally meet you, having enjoyed your little phone conversations and scheming together. Steve poked fun at Javi, claiming his investigative skills had gotten soft since he didn’t suspect a damn thing from you.

You watched the way his whole demeanour shifted. The ease of his broad shoulders, the way he smiled so effortlessly at the whole situation. It was a rare sight to see Javier Peña genuinely enjoying himself. Once conversation started flowing and the food was ordered and had arrived, the rest of the night went off without a hitch. All of you drinking together and telling inside jokes and far too personal stories that just begged to be shared. There was not a happier and louder table in the entire bar, but none of you cared. All the while, you were just happy. Happy to see Javi happy.

Too engrossed in conversation with Connie about a recipe she was dying to try, you barely noticed the soft and subtle way Javi gazed at you. The night was perfect. There was laughter. Good food and drinks. But most importantly, there were good friends enjoying one another's company.

~~~

Quisiera Taglist: @elinedjarin @hnt-escape @betti-book@thegreat-annamaria @seececerun @luxmundee @wander-lustbabe @phandoz

Javi (all) Taglist: @elinedjarin @thegreat-annamaria@wander-lustbabe @phandoz @mcueveryday @myguiltypleasures21

General Taglist: @phandoz @athalien @rosiefridayrogersunday@tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @radiowallet

#javier pena x reader #javier peña #narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos au

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

Text

meet me in the gardens

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either.

warnings: lots of emotions, feelings, slightly cynical and bitter reader- she’s honestly just being a realist, we are chugging forward, did not check for typos, format could be fucked up bc i’m posting from my phone quite literally minutes before i clock in- PATHETIC LMAO

word count: 2.7k

this is a short chapter by my standards, but it felt long to me because of the things in it??? this is part five! all other parts can be found on my masterlist, it’s my pinned post!

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Wanda asked while she tied your corset, not even needing to ask whether it was too tight or loose. You looked up in your vanity and immediately tried to wipe your smile away, but it was too late. She knew you better than anyone, and she had yet to see a thoughtful smile on your face, ever. Pietro, who had caught you going back inside the previous night, caught on to the fact that you looked more carefree, and that you just seemed to look like you were carrying around less.

“Nothing.”

“Hmm,” Wanda hummed, an entertained look on her face. Something told you that she already had an idea of what was going on, even though there was no way she could have. Besides, you hardly even knew what was going on. “I’ll ask again later.” She looked you in the eyes through the mirror, a slightly mischievous smile on her face. “Maybe then you’ll tell the truth,” she said, flicking you on the side of the head, and then letting it rest.

§§

Natasha was out in the village doing whatever it was the knights did one night, and she was planning on spending the night at a bed and breakfast before coming back in the morning. As disheartened as you were about not being able to see her for your stargazing, you were partly glad for it. You missed being with the twins.

You had dinner with them alone, sitting and laughing about old memories and scheduling times to make new ones together. You loved the way you could be with them. Your laughter was allowed to go over the volume of a giggle without them looking at you like you had grown seven heads, your silverware were allowed to take a tumble onto your plate with a clatter without a second glance, and you were allowed to use whatever language you pleased. You missed the comfort that you felt with them, the comfort that your brain and the part of you that would always be the farm girl felt with them.

“And Pietro chased him all the way off, you should have seen how terrified he was,” Wanda recapped, and you couldn't help but grin at Pietro, who was sipping wine with his charming grin. “That boy will never lift another skirt, I can assure you of that.”

“I’m glad,” you mused, shooting Pietro a look that made him laugh.

“Enough about me,” he said after swallowing a sip of his wine that was much more like a gulp. “We’re not going to talk about how you’ve been walking on the clouds for weeks now?”

You nearly dropped your fork again. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve both realized,” Pietro said, motioning with his buttered knife towards his sister, who had a soft smile on her face as she observed your reaction. “That you have been significantly happier. Even with the circumstances-”

“Pietro,” Wanda hissed, but you just snorted and shook your head.

“It’s like you found your own little pocket of happiness. We were worried about you, but, you’re doing alright.” Ever the blatant one out of the three of you, he leaned forward with his trademark smirk, eyes full of curiosity. “What do you know that we don't?”

You hesitated for a second, mouth opening and closing twice as you grappled for anything to say, even a lie. And then, you settled on just shrugging your shoulders with a grin, shaking your head. “Honestly, Pietro, I know nothing. I don’t know anything.”

§§

Your heart was beating faster than normal as you looked at the woman next to you, your hand subconsciously itching closer to hers as you sat on the ground, ass on the blanket that you had brought out. “I would like to… show you something.”

It was probably the twentieth time that you and Natasha had met with each other, and still, you were entranced by her and everything that she did. And you were entranced while you stared at her and waited for her answer, just a little nervous as to what she would say.

As if she would ever say no to something you said.

“Show me anything you’d like me to see,” Natasha urged on, and you fought back a smile. You stood up, and she did the same, and then you were picking up the blanket and walking side by side with her. It was quiet the entire way there as you walked in step with her, hand brushing against her every few steps and sending tingles down your arm every time it happened.

The feeling that you got when she touched you made you feel both alive and scared to death. You weren’t stupid. You knew what you were steadily collecting more than friendly feelings for her, and that she may have been on the same page you were on. The game you were playing was a dangerous one, the risk threatening to swallow up the reward more and more by the day.

You had known that being with her by yourself was bad judgement, ever since the first time you did it. Hell, the look you gave her the first time you met her was far from appropriate. Every single conversation that you had with her was a risk, and both of you knew it. And now that your soon-to-be husband was approaching, it was even more scandalous. No one knew and you hoped no one would ever find out, but hiding forever wasn’t a choice. But what would you be hiding if there were no true feelings?

You hated yourself for falling for her and her pretty words.

“I used to come here to escape,” you started, pulling yourself out of your thoughts, voice low as you passed the tree line to get into the thick of the woods. You narrowly missed stepping in a particularly muddy spot on the ground. “This was my spot, before I got the garden of course.”

“The woods?”

“No, Nat,” you said, slightly amused as you stepped over a fallen branch. You smiled a bit when the sound of running water hit your ears. “The stream.”

You knew the exact second that she saw it, because her eyes widened and her breath hitched. “That’s not a stream, that’s a river.”

“It’s the forgotten part of the main river,” you explained. “It’s much skinnier and more shallow, and it doesn't have nearly as much fish coming through, so people forget about it.” You looked towards her and saw how intrigued she was by it, so you judged her armor free body with a slight smirk. “What? Never seen running water?”

“I lived in the capital, all they had was the ocean. And even then I was never allowed on the harbor if I wasn’t selling clams, and I didn’t sell clams much.”

You felt silence start to grow between the two of you, so you said the first thing that you thought of. “You don’t look like a clam seller.”

He looked away from the river and to you, a slight grin on her face even as she talked again. “And you don’t look like a petal kisser, blossom, but look where we are today.”

Your heart raced in your chest. “Blossom? Is that what you’re calling me now?”

“It’s only payback for calling me ‘cherry’,” she said, and you stifled a laugh at the retired name, glancing up at the red hair that you had gotten inspiration from.

“You didn’t actually mind it,” you said, looking off into the distance, only looking back at her when a warm hand slotted over yours. You blinked and looked down at your hands, which she had intertwined, and then back up at her again, only to see that she was staring straight ahead in the dark at the way the moonlight hit the water.

“How could I?” She asked softly, a subtle breeze picking up.”You were the one saying it.” She looked at you, and in the dim lighting, you could have sworn that her eyes were saying, you can call me anything in the book, and I will own it proudly. And then, the look changed to something else, something less devoting, and something more passionate. It took you a few seconds to understand what the look meant, and before you could fully register it, she was leaning forward.

A few seconds came and went where you could feel your heartbeat all over, and you tried to look somewhere other than in her eyes. You couldn't. “Don’t look at me like that.” When all Natasha did was tilt her head to the side and give you an even more intense version of the look, you let out a small sigh. “Please.”

“Why not?”

She knew why. She knew why probably better than you did after living in the capital. She saw what happened firsthand to people who committed crimes, and those who committed second degree adultery. If you two did what you were wanting to do with your entire heart, you would fall right into that category. “I know where this is going,” you said softly, “and this won’t end well.”

“Why not?” She asked again, and you turned your head to the side, shaking it slightly and closing your eyes.

“Because, I’m about to get married,” you hissed, and though you didn’t mean to sound so angry, you did. Natasha was hardly affected.

She lifted her arms and let them fall against her clothing with a soft slap that still echoed in the night. “You’re not married right now.”

“But I will be, Natasha,” you said, gripping her hands and squeezing them softly, begging for her to understand you. “What’s going to happen when I get married to a man who already has a streak for murdering his wives, and he finds out that I have feelings for you? He’ll kill me. He’ll kill you. And if he doesn’t, we’ll both be hung for adultery, after being put into torture camps for being… together as women.”

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Y/N, you know that.” The fervency in her tone nearly shocked you as she took a bold step forward, nearly surrounding you in her scent and energy. “I would never let anything happen to you.”

“You’re too important for me to condemn to death and dishonor just because I have feelings for you. It was selfish of me to meet with you in the first place, but I can’t let myself do this. It’s a bad idea,” You said, voice hushed even though no one would have followed you. You were trembling, hand shaking more than anything else as you tried to understand how fast everything was moving; forward and backwards, sewing together and ripping apart all the same. If you were any more attentive to her expression, you would have seen the grin that lit up her face as your confession. “We were just about to cross a line. We’ve crossed quite a few dotted ones, but this one? It is bold and blaring.”

“Blossom,” Natasha started, and you just shook your head and kept going.

“And-and what we were just about to do? That crosses the line. We cannot.”

“Do you really think my feelings for you are going to change depending on whether or not we kiss?” She asked, her voice slightly deeper than usual, almost sounding insulted. “You’re telling me to close my heart off from you, not to not kiss you. And you know that.”

“What if I am?” You asked, eyes starting to burn with tears. “I’m doing it for the right reasons, Nat. I’m trying to save us from a world of hurt when reality finally sinks in.”

“That isn’t today.” She took another step forward and this time, you couldn't find the strength in you to step back. “And it isn’t tomorrow, and not even within the fortnight. You and I have something, and I know that you know it’s different. It’s special. We would be so stupid to ignore it, so stupid.”

“I know, I know,” you said, voice tapering off into a whine as you slowly felt your resolve come apart, even though you thought it was stronger. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Natasha said after a few minutes of pure silence, and you found yourself exhaling. “I just wish things were different.”

“I know,” she said, and you turned to look up at the sky, tears threatening to come down on your cheeks. The stars seemed to twinkle and wink at you, talking amongst themselves about a future you had no idea about just yet.

“Guess they’re never gonna line up,” you murmured to yourself, and then you heard Natasha grumble something from your side, and then she was coming closer, a barreling energy force full of passion and intent, and you knew exactly what she was coming for. For less than a split second, you thought about it. And then you turned your head and met her halfway.

You would have been surprised by the passion in it if you weren’t just as desperate for the contact. You twisted in her arms, already wrapped around you as she drew you in close, closer than you had ever been with her, and the tears that were welling up before were now escaping for a different reason. Your lips were pressing into hers, moving fluidly and with an air of fervor that she matched equally. You felt wanted, and needed, and you felt loved. You felt the tenderness of the moment with every brush of her fingers on the back of your neck and with every rub of your back over the thin material of your night dress.

Your legs were shaking, and she noticed before you did that you were getting weak in the knees. She held you up and pulled back slightly, just enough for you to feel her lips brush against yours while she asked if you were okay, like she wasn’t willing to take herself from you just yet. And honestly, you weren’t ready for her to leave you, either. You nodded, and she leaned in again, much slower, and then you had time to think.

Her eyes weren’t the same shade they were when the sun hit them, they were almost an eerie pale blue, but they were still just as gorgeous to you, especially now that they were slanted with desire. Her hair wasn’t perfect like she somehow always managed or it to be, and you realized that it was because you had gotten a hand to run through it despite the way that she had previously held you like a lifeline. Her lashes were long, and you swore that she was close enough that you could count them. Her cheekbones were accentuated in the lighting, making her look like something straight out of a fairy tale, like a floating fae creature that led people to safety. In that moment, you could have sworn that she was the answer to every prayer you had ever whispered, to every question you had ever asked your etiquette teachers. In that moment, and in every moment to come, she was your ending and beginning, your creation and destruction, your sunrise and sunset. She was Natasha Romanoff, and in that moment, no wedding or murderous man even held a candle to the way you felt about her.

What a beautiful person.

“Now you’re looking at me strangely,” Natasha said, her voice quieter than you had ever heard it as the both of you treated over the moment carefully, trying not to break it and leave it in shambles. “What are you thinking about?”

“How I’m going to have to pretend like this never happened in a few weeks,” you said softly, and part of you hated yourself for bringing up the bad part of the future so soon after you both had just lost all ties to reality.

“You don’t have to,” she said, stroking your hair. “We can just keep doing what we’re doing, sneaking off in the night and coming back in the morning before anyone realizes. Nothing really has to change, I just want you to know that I… that we can be whatever you want us to be.”

“As long as we’re in the confines of the garden walls.”

“And now the woods,” Natasha said, and you couldn’t help but laugh in her arms.

“And now the woods."

****

this is short, but i couldn’t see anything being tacked on to this. we’re at an important part, and from here it’s gonna be fun!! thank y’all for reading; if you liked it please drop a like and a reblog bc it makes my day!! comments also make me ascend y’all

tags!! : tags! : @teenwonder @saamwilscn @procrastinatingsapphictrash @fayhar @8plasma @slut-for-nat @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool @200605chaeng @thescottishavenger @antidaytime @jenny-song @madamevirgo @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @shycucumbersandwich @dailyavengering @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ima-gi--na-tion @chickenhavewisdom

so sorry if i forgot anyone!!!!!

#natasha romanov x reader #natasha x female reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #lgbt marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #my fics #natasha x reader #knight!natasha #knight au #lesbian!natasha #natasha romanoff x female reader

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