They’ve been on the road a week before she makes him laugh (again) for the first time.
They’re sitting around the campfire, Soren and Ezran putting in the bulk of the effort to keep a conversation going while Zubeia slumbers nearby, Zym curled around Ezran’s log, and with Callum or Rayla occasionally chiming in, but never on the same thought.
Soren is sharing a story about the time Opeli caught him accidentally swearing the one time she let him help out with a religious ritual, and by the way Callum sketches and barely reacts, Rayla can tell he’s probably heard it a thousand times, as even Ezran shoots Zym a (fond) look that reads Here we go again.
Rayla doesn’t even think that Callum is listening as she quips, “If the gods didn’t have a reason to hate you, think you might’ve just given them one—bad luck for life,” let alone to expect him to laugh.
But he does, the sound loud and almost gasping, before he chokes it down, half-formed, like he can’t laugh at her jokes.
Like he won’t let himself.
It sputters down to a wheeze, a scowl replacing the brief flash of mirth in his eyes as he keeps on sketching, ignoring everyone’s gaze on him.
Rayla looks away first, out of respect, and the whole interaction should sting, but... It doesn’t. It makes her heart beat with hope for the first time since he looked at her with hardly nothing but anger in his eyes, the love buried so far down she’d started to doubt if it was at the core of him anymore at all.
She sidles up to him when he goes to extinguish the campfire, Ez and Soren already in the process of falling asleep.
“So...” It feels strange to approach him with a more light-hearted tone, but right, too. “Am I still ten times funnier than any human you’ve ever met?”
He glances up at her, his lips twitching seemingly despite himself—warmed, perhaps, by the fact she remembers. (She remembers everything.)
“So long as you keep your Human impression far far away now that the war’s over,” he replies, even if they both know a fresh war might be on the way if they can’t stop what’s coming. He straightens up. “I don’t hate you, you know.”
“I know,” she says, but it’s still a relief to hear it. There’s a beat. “You don’t have to hate yourself for laughing at my jokes, either.” She dares to nudge him in the side with her elbow. “I am pretty funny.”
The earns her a tiny snort, and when Callum lifts his head, his expression is clearer than it has been since she came back. “You’re something, alright.”
She blushes in what remains of the firelight, letting him walk away to his own bedroll with a small smile on his face.
Maybe everything really will be alright, after all.
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jealous!Aaron would be super interesting in a situation where the reader has a meeting with an agent that has vibes similar to him and Kate Joyner (Whoever the reader meets kinda resembles and ex or maybe even Aaron himself and they're oddly friendly 🤭)
the one
OMG cw; bau!reader, jealous!aaron, aaron's petty (and a bit insecure), established relationship (and a healthy one at that <333), vague allusions to sex, fluff wc; 1.8k
"your team will be stationed here." the chief of police led you, aaron and jj into one of the conference rooms, complete with a large table, vast seating and numerous bulletin boards. "our head detective will be in to assist you shortly."
"thank you." once he had exited, aaron exhaled a breath - more so a let's get this show on the road, "alright, let's get settled."
jj began unpacking the evidence from the boxes collected so far, as aaron and yourself hung up photos; crime scene as well as images of the victims so far.
as promised, the door soon opened, allowing the noise of the precinct to drift in. it ended as abruptly as it had started, the door clicking shut.
"mornin', i'm detective parker." you heard from behind you, the name and voice strangely familiar, causing you to slow. "it's real nice of y'all to come all this way to help us out."
jj introduced herself, and then aaron, but no introduction was needed on your end; you turned and your eyes connected with the voice, both of you recognizing each other instantly.
"no way!" you grinned, moving forward and bypassing a handshake for a hug. he reciprocated your energy, exclaiming your name as he embraced you just as tightly.
aaron immediately stiffened, and jj was equally taken aback, studying the man. the first noticeable thing, the resemblance. the dark hair, dark eyes, tall frame...
while aaron began to seethe, and jj took the initiative to vocalize what they both were wondering - she had also noted the vein beginning to bulge in his neck. "the two of you know each other?"
"we worked together back in the tuscon field office." you explained, turning back to parker with a smile. "that was what, three, four years ago?"
"has it been? doesn't feel like it." he released a hearty laugh. "look at you, you haven't changed a bit. you look good, and i mean real good."
a swarm of jealous heat filled aaron's body, and only grew as you and parker began chattering away like lifelong best friends.
eager to draw it to a close, he cleared his throat, loudly. it regained both your attention, and cut your small reunion short.
"huh, a bau profiler," parker said as he sobered down, his smile lingering as he gazed at you. "who would've thought."
jj inserted herself into the conversation again, intrigued yet perplexed. "so the two of you were close, then."
aaron refrained - with a large amount of effort - from physically rolling his eyes. clearly. he opened a file, solely to maintain his composure.
"oh, absolutely," parker answered for the both of you, while also throwing an arm around your shoulder. "there was one time we-"
"fascinating." aaron deadpanned as he interrupted, closing the file in hand, rather aggressively as it produced a quaint slap. his eyes rose and studied the agent's arm placement for a few, obvious seconds, his lips drawing into a tight line before continuing. "need i remind you we currently have three victims and a killer who is unraveling as we speak. it's in our best interest to work diligently and remain focused."
parker nodded, his cheeks producing a faint blush at the injunction.
"the recent victim's family still requires an interview. you can start there."
"the two of us can go," parker said, gesturing to yourself, "it's quite a drive away, could give us the opportunity to catch up."
"that won't be necessary, jj can accompany you." aaron stated firmly, not even looking at him, nose buried in his file again.
an amused yet disdained expression formed on jj's face, nodding slowly in confirmation. "that i can."
parker opened his mouth, probably to protest, but aaron had already turned his back. he surrendered and headed out, jj following.
"aaron." you transferred your weight onto your hand as you leaned on the edge of the table, raising an eyebrow.
"what?" he looked at you. despite his query, his eyes were a telltale - he knew what he was doing.
you arched your eyebrow more, giving him a look.
he sighed, shutting the file. "i didn't like the way he was looking at you."
"he wasn't-"
aaron gave you a pointed look this time, prompting your words to trail off. he tore his eyes away from you again, allowing his next inquiry to exit his mouth more easily, "so, were the two of you...?"
"oh, no." you began to shake your head, but halfway, you hesitated. "well... almost."
his lips fell into an uneasy line, a pained expression painted on his face as his gaze shot back to yours. "almost?"
"we went on a few dates, kissed and..." you released a breath, choosing to keep the summary short, but the brooding envy in aaron's eyes deepened. "but nothing ever came from it. we were better off as friends."
after a moment though, you added, on the quieter side, "and besides, i transferred before anything really solidified."
the lines in aaron's face only grew, biting down briefly on his bottom lip.
"but it's in the past." you quickly reassured, bringing your hands to his cheeks for a moment to relieve the tension. "i won't deny that we were close, but you know how partnerships work. i depended on him, him on me, and the majority of our time was spent together. it caused a lot of emotions, all of which, are gone. i haven't even spoken to him since, seriously."
aaron wanted to counter, does parker know that? but from the earnest expression on your face, and loving look in your eyes, he withheld from doing so.
the bitterness on his face still didn't falter, but "okay. that's fine."
you still weren't convinced. "are you sure?"
"yeah. you're allowed to have a history, but that doesn't mean i need to be optimistic about working with him." he said as he exhaled a breath. he meant it, fully secure and confident in your relationship. he simply detested the idea of another yearning for you, especially one you had a past with, and one who looked quite like him - a potential competitive force.
you were his.
"of course," you nodded, with full understanding. "if the roles were reversed, i know i'd feel the same."
"and as long as he doesn't try anything..."
you laughed, your fingers playing with and then smoothing out the lapels of his suit jacket - positioning them in perfect place just as they belonged. "he won't. trust me, he's not like that."
aaron nodded, his eyes softening as he gazed down at you. if it weren't for the current setting, he would've brought his lips to yours.
"i have you." you offered him a loving, genuine smile, the affirmation to his just-previous thought calming his heart rate further. "i have everything i could ever want."
-
despite aaron being a bit (very) high-strung, and keeping a close eye on parker, he kept his word - he remained civil. naturally, he still was passive aggressive, short, and didn't dare smile while interacting with him.
the team noticed the 'chemistry' too. you knew they were whispering about it; they had gazed questionably between the two of you upon their arrival at the precinct, and through the substance of the case - the naturalness, the easy meshing, bouncing ideas off each other. but you had worked with parker for years - you knew how he worked, and likewise. it was like riding a bike, old habits resurfacing.
they also noticed the familiar characteristics to aaron (morgan of course teased you about it, you simply waved him off). and even penelope all the way back home asked about it, "so this guy, what's the story there?"
but despite the at-times, annoying attention - the case proceeded and resolved easily. within a few days, it was time to return home.
as the team settled other matters - exit reports, paperwork, etc. - you found yourself with parker, packing up and clearing out the conference room.
the two of you were alone for the first time all week, and you could sense it in the silence - a pending question. it was a matter of time before it was brought to focus.
"what do you think would've happened, if we would've given it a shot?"
you froze, facing him. "what?"
"you and i." his eyes searched yours, creating a sense of deja-vu. it was familiar, having spent so much time with him and once it had sent shivers throughout your body. but as strong as they seemingly once were - it wasn't like with aaron. it didn't leave you feeling lightheaded and giddy and as if you could simply burst at the seams.
when you remained silent, he continued.
"we were good together." he stated, insistently. "you can't deny it. good partners, a great team."
"yeah... we were," you agreed, fiddling with some papers as you thought. "but in the field. romantically, no. we couldn't see eye to eye on anything non-work related, don't you remember how much we bickered?"
"that was good for one thing, at least."
you ignored that, firm and conclusive in your answer. "we wouldn't have lasted."
"and he's in the picture now." he chuckled as he crossed his arms, a tinge of irritation present.
"yeah, he is." you hardened your voice - he knew it as your tell to quit it. "like i told you the night before i left. i couldn't stay. there was more for me out there. and after joining the bau, i now know it was in more ways than one. i love the work, although it's tremendously difficult and gruesome at times. i love the family it's given me. and most importantly, i love aaron."
parker nodded silently, rather disappointedly, but understanding nonetheless.
"i love him. he's the one, i'm positively certain he is."
he sighed as shoulders dropped, his words melancholy but supportive. "well, he's good for you. if anything about him being attached to your hip, or giving me the subtle death glare constantly the past few days, has something to say for it."
you laughed gently. "profiling the profilers?"
"oh c'mon, the way he looks at you? anyone can tell."
-
on the jet, you weaved down the aisle, past the team finding their seats, getting comfortable for the ride home. when you reached aaron, you wrapped your arms around his middle.
aaron's lips tipped upwards in a smile, his arms mirroring yours. "what's this for?"
you only tightened your grip, mumbling into his chest. he could hear your smile in your voice. "just 'cause you're mine."
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everything i loved about "the little mermaid" live action
Ariel's melody being her siren song!! that little new bit of lore!! i also really liked that it added more depth as to why Ursula wanted her voice in exchange for her becoming human
the way Ariel became almost angry during the bridge of "Part of Your World", she was so frustrated that she couldn't do the things she was dreaming about, like YES let her be mad!!
full body chills during "Part of Your World" + the first reprise
Ariel helping Max onto the boat 😭😭😭
I've mentioned this before, but Ariel hearing Eric's voice before seeing him!!! hearing him sing before seeing him!!! agh!!!!
Eric holding Ariel's hand on the shore after she rescues him 😭
the detail put into each of Ariel's sisters was so stunning, i'm so excited to read more about them in the books! i loved that they each had their own specific vibe
THEY INCLUDED THE FACT THAT URSULA AND TRITON ARE SIBLINGS YES THANK YOU VERY MUCH
"For the First Time" being a voice over, as Ariel's thoughts, and then the scene shifting to complete darkness except for her to represent us being in her head and hearing her thoughts, and the way it gets cut off when she realizes she can't say "hello" to Eric? i cried
The Jodi Benson cameo and her giving Halle!Ariel the fork 😭 literally her passing on the mantel of Ariel 😭😭
Eric and Ariel being total nerds with each other??
The way Ariel "told" Eric her name using the constellations???? and him saying it was written in the stars???? hello????
Also Eric saying "my little mermaid" made me so soft wtf
Eric and Ariel running around and giggling in the castle and being the definition of puppy love like they're so goofy and in love i adore them
the "Part of Your World" reprise after Ariel sees Eric with Vanessa shattered my heart, the MOST heartbreaking song
Grimsby kicking the ring away after it falls near him, my man knew exactly what was going on, he's known Ariel for three days and is already a ride or die
just Ariel and Eric holding each other so tightly after she gets her voice back, and Eric refusing to let her go until Ursula literally has to throw him away
ARIEL BEING THE ONE TO KILL URSULA USING THE SKILLS SHE SAW ERIC USE OH MY GOD IT WORKED SO SO WELL
i like that they added a chunk of time passing between Ursula's death and Eric and Ariel reuniting, it added a little extra drama and emotion when they finally saw each other again!
listen i'm an absolute sucker for a "hug before kiss" reunion and i was SO happy that Eric and Ariel had that, it fit them and their relationship perfectly, the way Eric just clung to her, and Ariel's happy smile as she hugged him back 😭
The mermaid statue and the dress representing the land vs. the sea???? and both returning back to where they're supposed to be but having new meanings????
Ariel's wedding dress being pink to (probably) pay homage to her pink ballgown in the animated movie was such a good touch, and i loved the length!!
Triton and Ariel's goodbye, where he says "you shouldn't have had to give up your voice for me to hear you"???? hello my father issues jumped tf out and had me sobbing in the theater
literally the entire movie was so beautiful, i could talk about it for hours, this is the best live action remake honestly, and Eric and Ariel (specifically the live action version obvi) have moved up to become my favorite Disney Princess/Prince pairing, just behind Belle and Adam (bc let's be honest, nothing can top them)
@queen-with-the-quill bc i know you're seeing it soon! more things i forgot to tell you lol
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Reunion | Sequel
[Part 1]
Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...
Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI
Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader
TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral f receiving, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, anxiety, Reader has a child, grief, fluff, pregnancy, not proofread.
Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3
Words count : 9150
Author's note : Hello everyone!! Sorry for the wait, I've been very busy, but here's part two of Reunion (or at least the first part two, let's call it part 2.1 hehe). Thank you again for all you kind comments and the love you've given my fanfic omg!!
Spoiler alert: this is the happy alternate ending! But I've got another bittersweet alternative ending planned 😈
If you think the first part was good enough on its own and the sequel may break the vibe, don't force yourself to read!! But if you need a happy ending, here it is <3
The plot still doesn't make any sense, but hey, we're here to have fun so enjoy ❤️
English is still not my first (or second) language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes <3
When you wake up, the first thing you feel is the reassuring embrace of his arms around you. You don't want to move, not even when the sunlight tickles your face through the opening between the wooden shutters, trying to make the moment last endlessly. But the growing anxiety in your stomach chases away the illusion of your fleeting happiness.
You close your eyes a little tighter. Perhaps if you try again, perhaps if you try harder, the world around you can fade away.
Perhaps you can wake up again, in a different reality.
But it's inevitable. You know that now you're awake, it's only a matter of time before the two of you have to say goodbye forever. Your breathing becomes heavier, and you have to fight the tingling sensation at the corners of your eyes.
Why have the gods decided to be so cruel to you? They grant you one last taste of his skin on your lips before taking it from you, again.
Haven't you given enough?
Could they not show you mercy?
You who had forgotten him, you who had begun to turn a new page, to seek comfort in the arms of the cold, far away from the fire and the ashes, why did you have to touch the poison that would once again stain your soul?
Behind you, Aemond buries his long nose in your hair. His hand absently caresses the skin of your thigh, just where the edge of the linen tunic you put on sometime during the night when you were cold ends. The fabric is pulled up, revealing the outline of your bottom, and you can already feel your uncle hardening between his thighs, but you don't move.
If you move, you'll make everything more real. Tangible.
You'll speed up the process of losing him, of him slipping through your fingers.
How can you let him go, now that your heart is full again, now that you feel complete in a way you haven't felt for over three years?
How can you let him go, now that your body has retrieve the extension of itself in the arms of the man who was the cause of your torment, your moments of joy, your pain and, paradoxically, your happiness?
"I know you're awake."
You hold your breath and Aemond inhales into your hair. His hand moves down the inside of your thigh, along the hollow that joins it to your groin. He doesn't venture any further.
His thumb rests there and brushes your skin, trying to arouse the desire in you with gentleness.
Subtly.
He doesn't want to hurry, he doesn't want to rush you.
Not when he's been harbouring the impossible fantasy of waking up with you in his arms since the day he nearly died.
He presses harder against you, as if he doesn't want to let you go, as if he wants to be one with you again, and you feel him pulsing against your buttocks, under the linen cloth that has been pulled up a little higher. He says nothing, but he is pleading, needy, in his gestures, which is rare for him.
Something has changed, after all, and perhaps something has changed in him too.
"I am awake, indeed, " you whisper in a voice that is still half asleep. The lump in your throat betrays the feeling of anxiety gradually creeping into your body, and Aemond seems to notice. Under your tunic, his hand moves up along your belly until it nestles against your chest, close to your heart. His thumb draws small circles, once again trying to bring you back to him.
Trying to calm your mind.
"Let us forget for a little longer," he whispers, his clenched jaw resting over your head. "Please."
And you know he never begs.
Aemond takes and doesn't ask.
Aemond believes he is owed everything and never gives in return.
Hearing him beg breaks something inside you, because this is the first time he does so.
Usually it was you, it was always you, begging for peace, begging for more, begging him not to leave you.
Part of him is as desperate as you are; part of him also dreads the moment when you will have to part again. Forever. It's comforting to know that his feelings are sincere, just like yours.
" Make me forget, then." You reply, moving your lower loins back against him, giving him tacit permission to explore your body once more. His fingers move down to your breasts, which he covers softly with his hand, his thumb skimming over a nipple to make it hard. You let out a gasp between your parted lips.
His hand slides lower, his palm flat against your lower belly, his fingertips brushing the light patch of hair at the top of your mound. You feel the familiar warmth growing between your thighs, in your core.
He sighs against the back of your skull, his head tilted forward. His lips search the skin at the nape of your neck, behind the long hair that has become tangled during the night, while his fingers intimately explore the secrets of your body that he knows all too well. The remnants of last night's lovemaking still smear the insides of your thighs and folds, but it doesn't matter; his fingers easily find the little bundle of nerves that they tease until you close your eyes, until your hand grips the damp, shabby sheet that covers the ragged mattress in the inn where you've spent the night.
Just the both of you, in the comfort of anonymity.
"Let me taste you". His voice, still husky, tickles the back of your neck and you feel him shift behind you. When you feel the warmth of his bare chest, against which you're nestled, leave your back, your body automatically tries to move back against him. You still need him. You still need him to chase away the lump of anxiety in the pit of your stomach and the voices that keep reminding you that you're only postponing the fateful moment. Your hand slips under your white tunic and wraps around his wrist to force him to stay there, to hold his fingers against the source of heat spreading from your core. Your hips are demanding, grinding against his hand. "On your back," he insists, and stands up on his forearms.
With reluctance you turn over. You obey, lying on your back, your hair spilled around your head on the flat, uncomfortable pillow on which you slept badly. The white tunic that serves as your nightgown is pulled up, crumpled, just above your crotch, which it barely conceals.
Aemond has swung over your body, silvery strands loosening from the braid that holds his hair behind his head and sliding down his shoulders, falling in loose loops on either side of his face, tickling your cheeks.
His lilac-tinted blue eye glows with a predatory gaze, a ray of light catching in the sapphire he hasn't removed from his socket.
He captures your lips with his own, begging for access. Aemond marks your jaw and throat with light kisses, sucking at your collarbone to make the violets of possessiveness with which he likes to adorn your body bloom. His lips travel down your chest, playing with one of the two small nipples raised by the cool air and by desire, and continue their journey past your navel.
Your heartbeat quickens as he settles between your legs, spreading your thighs to admire the part of you he covets so eagerly. At the same time you bend your legs, your gaze falling on him, on his unravelled hair, on his eye that locks with yours. He is so close to you, so close to your warm centre, and you know that between your folds the sweet nectar that your uncle longs to taste is already flowing.
But his lips trace the inside of your thighs instead, where the skin is soft and tender, and gradually they reach the hollow that connects them to your most intimate part. He takes a malicious pleasure in building up the tension, in savouring every millimetre of you like a fine delicacy, with only the tip of his lips brushing against your skin.
His thumbs spread the tender flesh of your womanhood and then he places a chaste kiss on the very centre of you. His tongue is shy at first, tracing the slit that connects your entrance to your little knob, collecting the evidence of your desire.
As his tongue wraps around your nub, your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white.
Aemond drinks from your essence like a thirsty man, his nose buried between your folds, rubbing your pearl.
The tip of his tongue catches what drips from your opening, and then the flat of his tongue tastes your slit, working its way up to the little nub gorged with desire.
He maintains the same rhythm, revelling in the moans that escape from your half-open lips. Soon his middle finger begins to draw circles against your entrance, the first knuckle sliding inside, then the whole finger. Your head is thrown back and immediately your hand buries itself in his silvery hair, gripping his braid in a messy bun behind the top of his head. Forcing his face against the most intimate part of your body, forcing his lips to work on your wet warmth, you seek more contact.
Aemond adds a second finger. He can feel you tighten around him as he searches for that particular spot, as his tongue continues to play with your bundle of nerves.
As he devours what is his, utterly his.
His fingers, the ones that aren't buried inside you, close around the flesh of your hip in a possessive grip. "Come for me," he whispers against your womanhood, his eyes lifted to you. "I know you can do it."
Your breathing becomes more erratic, faster too. You tighten the grip of your fingers in his hair, your thighs pressing either side of his face, and he collects the sweet taste of your release on his tongue with a hum.
You feel like you're floating. The waves of warmth still wash over you, less and less intense, your breast rising and falling as you catch your breath.
Your hand tucks a lock of his hair back behind his ear as Aemond lifts his face towards you, and you rest your hand against his cheek. His parted lips still glisten with your desire smeared across the lower part of his face. He stares at you without moving, his deep, regular breathing the only sound to break the silence that has followed your release. You stay like that for a moment, his gaze burning into yours. At any moment he might pounce on you. At any moment he might close the tiny distance separating your mouths and press his lips against yours like the starving man he is.
It's you who makes the first move. You taste yourself on his lips and your tongue entwines with his in a fiery, demanding kiss.
Straightening up, Aemond creeps between your legs, his hand on the underside of your thighs, holding them apart. He is still completely naked from the night before, he has not bothered to get dressed after your lovemaking, so you can catch a glimpse of his erect manhood, slightly curved. He wraps his hand around to guide it towards your still sensitive wet entrance.
He slides into you easily, in one slow movement. The haste of the night before, the urgency of the reunion, has given way to the tenderness and laziness of the early morning, and Aemond rocks inside you slowly. His hips undulate, punctuated by long, deep thrusts, in an illusion of domesticity.
But the damp sheets, rough against your skin, the discomfort of the hard mattress beneath your back, remind you that your lovemaking is anything but domestic.
For Aemond is still the enemy, for Aemond is supposed to be dead.
For your family is probably looking for you at this very moment, worried that you have not returned home for the night.
But you push those thoughts away. The weight of your uncle's body on top of yours soothes the knot that forms in the pit of your stomach at the thought of time slipping away, at the thought of having to leave him again, at the thought of this being the last time you will taste his lips, his skin.
Aemond is gentle, and that is rare enough to be worth mentioning. He has never been so gentle, so soft, in the limited time that you have been married.
Between you, there had been the devouring, consuming passion, the power play that in your submission had granted you dominance.
Between you it had been raw and devastating more than gentle and tender.
His fingers run the length of your body to your core, combining his slow, deep thrusts with the movement of his fingers against your clit.
There are only few words exchanged between you, as if you were both afraid to break the grace of the moment.
His panting, noisy breath echoes in the silence, skimming the skin of your throat, then mingling with yours as the shadow of his lips brushes against yours. He rests his forehead against yours, your hand cupping his cheek, sliding behind his neck, and you are transported into a cocoon of intimacy where nothing else exists around you.
There is only his body against yours, warm and reassuring.
There is only him inside you and the slow movement of his hips.
There is only your breathing, blending in the space that separates your mouths.
"Do you know how much I've missed you?" He whispers against your lips as you close your thighs around him. "How much I dreamed of this tight little cunt?" You swallow his words. Your hips meet his as he pushes against you. He is reaching deep inside you. Despite the intimacy of the moment, his body oozes power and darkness, and you can't help but be drawn to that side of him that complements yours so well.
You can't stop your body from aching for him.
"You could have been my queen," he says as his movements grow stronger. He won't last long, but neither will you. He's inside you, where you like to feel him, and your walls clench around his member. "And I would have set the whole world on fire for you." He thrusts. "Burned it to the ground" He thrusts again. "All for you." And again.
The old wood of the bed creaks with each of his movements.
You seek out his lips, just to brush them against yours.
Without sealing the kiss.
"And I would have accepted," you answer with a whimper. "I would have been your queen, qybor." In another life, you think you would.
In another life, in another universe, you would have been his queen.
A grunt escapes his lips and lands in the hollow of your ear. Aemond straightens on his bent elbow, right next to your head, and he plunges into you one last time, with more power, more vigour, just as his new position allows.
You close your eyes.
A second wave of warmth is about to engulf your body.
And you wait for it, you welcome it.
"Look at me when I come inside you," he growls hoarsely as his seed pours deep inside you, into the most intimate part of your body. "Look at me as I fill you up."
Your eyes lock with his, fiery as ever. A final moan escapes between your lips and you seal them to your uncle's in a feverish, wet kiss. You hold him in your arms for a moment longer, as if to allow yourself the luxury of illusion for a brief instant.
You delay the fateful moment a little longer, fighting the minutes that inevitably slip through your fingers.
"Stay inside me just a little longer," you whisper, burying your head in the hollow of his neck where you can feel the rapid rhythm of his pulse. His arms close around you, holding you tight against him, and you hear him purr against the hair on the crown of your head. He rocks you gently.
The silence welcomes you both into its embrace and you savour it like a treasure. Your body aches in the sweetest way, your insides throbbing around his softening manhood.
And around you, nothing exists anymore.
*** *** *** *** *** *** ***
"I've changed, you know." His hoarse voice vibrates against you, but you refuse to meet his eyes. You keep them closed.
You're not sure if Aemond has really changed. Aemond is ruthless, cold, brutal, calculating, merciless. Cruel. You're not sure if Aemond can ever change, but he shows unusual tenderness, and maybe, just maybe, you allow yourself to doubt. You indulge in the illusion.
Perhaps Vhagar's death has broken something in him.
Perhaps it's true, perhaps he's not the same man anymore.
He's not sorry for what he has done. He never will be. He's too proud, even if you can catch the glimmer of remorse that colours his icy eyes when he is not looking at you.
Does he think of your little brother? Is he haunted by the memory of him, as you have been for so many years?
Does he think of the innocents he killed without flinching, the blood he spilled in the Riverlands that now stains the burned grass?
Is his sanity slowly being eaten away by the atrocities he has committed with his own hands?
He has changed. You are not sure if he's changed for the better or for the worse, but he has indeed.
Daemon has changed too. So has Rhaenyra. So has Jace.
You too have changed.
For war changes people, war makes them weary and wary, it shatters something in the body that will never be the same again. It hollows out the roundness of the cheeks, it deepens the dark circles under the eyes, it fades the sparkle of childhood that remains in the eyes.
Aemond seems to be waiting for an answer, but the words remain stuck in your throat. I know, you want to whisper, I know, but suddenly you've forgotten how to speak. His thumb draws the soft line of the underside of your breast.
The future terrifies you more than ever. You had made peace with your past, you had come to a conclusion that, even if it pained you, had given you some respite.
Seeing your uncle alive had reawakened your demons.
Spending the night in the embrace of his arms had revived everything you had buried deep, deep down.
The past had returned, creeping towards you, gnawing at the corners of your heart and at what remained of your sense of stability and certainty.
Now you are plunged into doubt.
Just as you were a little over three years ago, when you were informed of his death, when you had to learn to live with the choice that had never really been given to you.
Just as three years ago, when you noticed a familiar lilac-tinged blue in Rhaegar's eyes.
Like when you had to live with the memories that haunted you, that were slowly eating away at what little sanity you had left.
Like when you finally decided to leave for the North.
Aemond seems to sense your anguish, because his fingers get lost in your hair.
"What are we going to do now?"
Finally, you dare to utter the inevitable words that have been hanging on the tip of your tongue since you woke up, words you've swallowed so many times this morning. You immediately blame yourself.
Saying them only makes them more real.
They tear at something in the imaginary cocoon you've built for yourselves. You bury your face against his skin, breathe in his scent, as if you never want to forget him.
For you know how fleeting memories can be.
You remember how his face faded with each passing day.
You don't know if you'll ever be able to experience it a second time.
"We could leave," Aemond replies, as his fingers venture to your jaw, caressing the line of your cheeks with the back of his knuckles.
He's so pragmatic, as always.
Even in this situation.
Even now.
It makes you want to shake him.
"We could run away," he says again. His gaze, fixed in the distance, falls on you at the same moment. "To Essos. Pentos. No one would know who we are." You close your eyes, and let his hoarse voice lull you into silence. "To start our own family, the three of us."
You know he is not serious. Even though he looks at you with such insistence, with that flame that flickers in the centre of his iris.
You relish his fantasy, this impossible dream.
But you can't leave your family; Essos is not Winterfell. There, they knew where to find you. They knew you were safe. They knew you were sheltered between the walls of the northern castle, under the heavy furs, under the protection of Cregan Stark.
Essos is the unknown.
You cannot let your mother lose her only daughter, not after everything she has already lost.
The itch is familiar, tickling at the corners of your eyes. There was a time when you thought you'd lost that sensitivity. When you thought the war had left you cold, incapable of feeling anything. Incapable of crying.
"You know I can't." Your nose rubs against his milky skin, made clammy by sweat. You keep your eyes closed because you feel the weight of his cold gaze on you, his furrowed eyebrows as he stares at you blankly, his lips pursed in a long, thin line. You don't have the courage to meet his accusing gaze, let alone the wounded look on his face as you crush all his illusory dreams into dust.
When did you become the more pragmatic of the two?
When did you become the one responsible for bringing Aemond back to reality?
It used to be you, the one who filled your mind with unrealistic dreams, the one who dreamed of stories and fairy tales, back when you could still dream. "They need me, you know that."
A sneer stretches across your uncle's lips as he swallows a chuckle that sounds more like an ironic growl. You feel his whole body tense against yours, a sign that he's holding back his annoyance.
A sign that he has something to say, that he's upset, but doesn't quite know how to put it into words.
"Like they needed you back then?" he replies scathingly, bitterness on the tip of his tongue. "When they used you as a bargaining chip to achieve their ends, hm?"
Your red cheeks burn with shame, as if he'd slapped you. You don't move, merely swallow hard. You know there's something right about what he is saying, but you don't want to admit it.
You've done your duty.
You've done what is expected of you as a daughter.
It was not a question of them using you. It never was.
It was your duty, only your duty, what you were always meant to perform, wasn't it?
And yet a small voice in the back of your head had already given you a similar speech, a few years ago, but you had tried to silence it.
You refused to let Aemond admit it. You refuse to allow him to do it. He had no idea, no right to criticise your family when he'd acted like that.
When he has done what he has done.
He has no idea what it is like to be a daughter.
You don't answer, and silence falls between you again.
You wish so desperately that he could go home with you; that he could tell them that he's sorry.
You wish it were easier.
There is no one left to wait for Aemond but you, but his son, you know that. His family has been decimated, as has yours in some ways, though you still have your parents and your older brother.
For your uncle, there's nothing left but the shadow of his existence, the shadow of who he once was, long ago.
You let your hand trace the side of his throat, your nose buried against it, your lips hovering over his skin. You lean against him, your body on top of his, pressed together as if you were afraid to let him go.
"You could come with me instead," you whisper, but you refuse to meet his gaze. There's something shameful in the words you've just spoken aloud, something naive, and your burning cheeks are proof of your embarrassment.
Almost imperceptibly, he clenches beneath you, holding his breath. This is a bad idea and you feel stupid. Naive to have dared to suggest something like this.
His voice purrs in a hm that vibrates against you. He's about to say something. He searches for words. "You know that -"
"I know." You cut him off sharply - a little more than you would have liked, your eyes raised to silence him.
You know what he thinks.
He thinks that Rhaenyra will never be his queen. He thinks he will never bend the knee to his eldest sister and her authority, which he doesn't recognise.
He thinks that with the death of Aegon, with the death of the children his brother fathered with Helaena, the throne belongs to him.
And you are aware of his ambitions. You know how perfectly the conqueror's crown fits his head. You know how it sets off the sapphire embedded in his eye socket. You remember the look of greed in his eyes every time he stared at the Iron Throne, you remember the look of pride on his face every time he scorned anyone who dared to question his decisions as Prince Regent.
You know how mercilessly he made the soldiers at Harrenhal kneel, forcing them to contemplate their impending deaths. You know the terror he has sown throughout the Riverlands.
Even in the Seven Hells you could have found more mercy than at the hands of Aemond Targaryen.
Aemond may have changed, but you're not sure he's changed enough to put aside the pride that is consuming him from within.
You take a deep breath. "You don't really have a choice, qybor."
Fearing his reaction, you curl into a fetal position, your back to him, your knees drawn up to you. You close your eyes. You wait for his frustration.
You wait for his sentence.
You know that he is aware that he has no choice.
He has only two options: swallow his pride or sink back into the abyss, disappear into the dark meanders of oblivion.
Rhaegar needed his father, of course, but you found him a father in Cregan Stark.
That was a sacrifice you were willing to make.
There was no way you would give up what family you had left.
For Rhaegar needed his grandparents and his uncle even more.
Behind you, you feel your uncle's hand slip under your tunic and around your body, pulling you against him. He presses his bare chest against your back, tucking your head under his chin. His hand caresses your stomach, then his fingers brush the base of your breast.
"You know she will never be my queen. You know the throne belongs to -" But he lets the words drop without finishing the sentence, the knowledge of what he was about to say hanging in the air between you.
As long as he remains alive, will the embers of war never truly be extinguished?
You don't know, but you accept the risk.
You close your eyes, as if you're about to jump into the icy depths with both feet.
"The rest is up to you, Aemond," you whisper, barely audible. "And if you have truly changed, then you will know how to make the right choice."
He says nothing.
You savour the last few minutes of illusion you have left.
*** *** *** *** *** *** ***
The fear of making the wrong choice never really leaves you, but your mother chases your fears away, as she so often did when you were a child, tucking one of your dark curls behind your ear. She has her distinctive little smirk on her lips, the one that pulls the corner of her lips up towards her nose.
The same one Lucerys had, you think sadly.
You still miss him, even after all this time, and sometimes you wonder what kind of young man he would have become.
"You're a clever girl, my sweet clever girl," she whispers against your forehead as she cradles you in her arms. She's as beautiful as ever, as gentle with you as ever, despite the years, despite the wear and tear of war that has hardened her features and hollowed her cheeks. "And I know you have made the right decision." She lifts your chin with her forefinger to look into your eyes, and you feel like you're turning back into that shy, insecure girl who disappeared somewhere in the violence of the war all those years ago.
"And if it should turn out that you were wrong... Daemon will be there to intervene. You know he is just waiting for that." You roll your eyes at her attempt at humour, and she plants a kiss on your forehead.
For a split second, you truly are that carefree little girl again.
But behind your mother's humour lie fragments of reality that make your laughter bitter.
The news of your husband's survival remains a hazy blur in your mind. Sometimes you're not sure if this conversation really occurred or if you're dreaming.
You're not sure if what's around you, if the night you spent in Aemond's arms, is real or an invention of your sick mind.
Sometimes you're not really conscious of the events or how long they lasted, the lump in your stomach grows back, and once again you're destined to carve half-moons marks in the palms of your hands to soothe the tension in your body.
You told your mother first because you knew she'd be more understanding. As a mother, as a woman, she knows the meaning behind certain silences, the weight of words, the unspoken words that float between sentences.
You know she can understand your pain and your doubts, but also your love and your compassion.
She was shocked when you told her that her younger brother was still alive. She smoothed her dress, paced back and forth, then took the time to sit down, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes riveted to your face, looking for clues that would betray what you were thinking, what you might be hiding. She was afraid that he had hurt you. She was afraid that he would rip you away from her, just as he had once ripped your little brother away from her.
Her fingers had gently taken your hand and her thumb had drawn little circles on the back of your hand to comfort you. She listened to you first as you confessed everything.
Where you were that night when you didn't come home.
Who you were with.
And then she took you in her arms. She reassured you. Soothed you.
You had been so afraid of disappointing her, of disappointing all of them, that the tension paralysing your body had finally loosened and you burst into tears.
Things had proved more complicated with Daemon. When he learned that his nephew was alive, that he wasn't forgotten forever in the deep waters of the lake near Harrenhal, he refused to believe you. He was furious. He said he had seen him fall, that he was the one who had taken his life, tearing the sky apart.
You didn't know where to look, and it was in your mother's eyes that you sought support, comfort, anything in the face of your stepfather's rage. You could feel on you the look of disappointment of your brother, Jace, as he held his shoulders up and his chin high. He wanted to prove that one day he would be a good king. With his jaw clenched, he said nothing, looking at you as if you were suddenly so foreign to him. He probably didn't know what to say, for fear of being clumsy, for fear of unintentionally hurting you, even more than by his lack of support.
You know it wasn't his fault.
He simply couldn't understand.
The words stuck in your throat and you found yourself unable to speak, pearls glittering in the corners of your eyes while you waited impatiently for the final blow.
The final death knell that would seal your disgrace in everyone's eyes.
After all you'd endured.
Daemon stood before you, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes hard. He was staring at you as if you'd committed the ultimate treason, and you knew he was controlling himself to keep his anger from exploding. "You're going to bring him to me," he had hissed, his hand closing over your shoulder.
" You will lure him here and he will be put to the sword." His tone left no room for argument. With the tension growing in your stomach, you sought your mother's compassionate look to calm you. You could see the fury in your stepfather's eyes, and also a mixture of fear and feelings of betrayal. You knew that, deep down, he was afraid for you because he considers you his daughter. Because Baela and Rhaena are like sisters to you.
It was his reaction you feared most, not your mother's. His fingers dug into your skin, the floor slipping out from under you, the room swaying dangerously, and your mother had come to your rescue, trying to calm things down with her usual diplomacy.
You can't quite remember the words your stepfather said; in anger he muttered something that sounded like are you really thinking of becoming his whore again? and the words hurt like hell, but you tried to swallow the pain.
Endure, hold your head high. That was what you had learned.
Your mother had suggested you go back to your room or spend some time with Rhaegar, her fingers gently stroking your dark locks, and as soon as you left the throne room you could hear their voices echoing through the door.
They were arguing.
Over you.
Because of you, again.
You took a deep breath and returned to the gardens, where your two stepsisters were making your son laugh by playing with him. They had fun running around in the damp grass to the applause of Baela's little daughter, who clapped her little hands in delight.
Your fingers were still trembling when you joined them.
In the end a solution was found, for your mother feared losing you a second time.
She remembered what had happened to Laenor, your father, when he had grown tired of the court.
She remembered what had happened to Helaena, your sweet aunt, when she could no longer bear to suffer.
It was her worst nightmare to see you torn from her again, now that she had the chance to hold you in her arms every day, to protect you again, to see you grow again.
It was her worst nightmare to see her only daughter, her only daughter and the second of her only surviving children, taken from her.
You and Jace were all she had left of her own blood.
After long negotiations with Daemon, you had managed to bargain for your husband's life in exchange for strict conditions; increased surveillance, no bonding with a new dragon, no carrying of weapons, and the assurance that he would be executed if there was the slightest doubt about him. You proposed that you and he leave the capital, with your son as well. To return to Dragonstone. To start over on a new, blank page in a book that was already too damaged.
For you, it was also a way to ease the tensions between your family and Aemond, and perhaps find a more intimate life with your husband and son.
Rhaenyra had declared that this was the best solution: a guarantee for her to have you by her side again, a guarantee for her that you would be there.
You had been afraid of Aemond's reaction, afraid that his ego would not bear it; that he would refuse, that he would rather sentence himself to his own death than to an existence as a prisoner within his own family, condemned to live as a shadow of the man he had once been in exchange for seeing his son grow up.
But in the end, wasn't he doomed to live as a shadow of the man he had once been, anyway?
He would never be the rider of Vhagar again.
He would never be the ruthless Prince Regent again.
He would never again be the second in line to the throne, the second son greedily waiting for fate to turn in his favour.
He hadn't been all of that for a good three years, lurking in the cold, gloomy corridors of Harrenhal like a lonely monster.
And if he went back, if he rejected your proposal, he would have condemned himself to eternal solitude at the side of a witch you would rather forget.
He had no choice, for he would never be that Aemond again.
When you joined your husband at the meeting place, you were relieved to see him swallow his pride and accept. It was difficult, but you convinced him.
For Rhaegar, for his son.
Aemond had suggested that you run away, far away from everything, and you almost hesitated. Running away would have allowed you to forget, of course.
But your deepest wounds had begun to heal. You had begun to be able to face the ghosts that haunted King's Landing, the ghosts that haunted Dragonstone.
To stop there was tempting, and yet so frightening at the same time.
The unknown terrified you. You needed familiarity now, something to fall back on, for you were so tired.
Now you can't help bringing your thumb to your lips, nibbling the skin at the corner of your fingernail with the tip of your teeth as you walk away from Rhaenyra. A handmaiden brings you Rhaegar, and you struggle to breathe.
You inhale.
You exhale.
The thick tuft of brown hair makes you smile. The sight of your son is enough to give you the courage to walk with a more confident stride. It's as if you were filled with new strength, for you know that he needs you more than anyone else. And for him, you've promised yourself to stay strong.
As soon as you reach him, you kneel and plant a kiss on his plump cheeks.
He's growing up so fast that sometimes you wish you could stop time.
"There's someone who'd like to meet you, sweet boy," you explain, and you can recognise your mother's inflection in your own voice. Sweet boy. Rhaegar looks at you with big, round, questioning eyes, and you wonder if he senses your anxiety, because he takes your hand between his tiny fingers.
"Who, muña ?" he babbles, striding down the cobbled path in the middle of the gardens, hopping on his clumsy little legs, and you smile at his carefree attitude. He stops to watch the bees foraging, bends down to pick up a flower and gives it to you. He's always so curious, so full of life. He's a ray of sunshine that brightens your dull days. You finally understand your mother, the agonising fear she has of losing you. You finally understand the horror she experienced when she lost her four other children.
You also finally understand why Helena threw herself from Maegor's Holdfast.
The thought of what Daemon did still revolts you, and you can't imagine anyone hurting your boy like that.
You turn around. Rhaenyra is still there, in the distance, her crown on her head, her hands crossed in front of her on the heavy fabric of her dress, watching over you. She won't move, a comforting, discreet presence.
A stone bench awaits you by the fountain, on which two cushions have been arranged. A dessert buffet has been set up under the gazebo and you immediately spot your favourite cakes, the strawberry one, the blackberry jam one, and you look down at your son. He hasn't noticed them yet, or he would have already run over, dipped his finger in the whipped cream and stolen a blueberry from one of the tarts, his innocent expression on his face.
He is definitely a lot like you. Mischievous and clever. An angelic air. He is an easy-going child who never throws a tantrum.
Who understands quickly, too.
"I love you. I love you more than anything, you know that, don't you, young boy?" your tone is soft, and you kneel down in front of him, your hands on his small shoulders to emphasise the seriousness of your discussion. You search for your words, hesitating. How do you tell a three-year-old that his father, his dead father, is back from the dead and about to meet him?
Of course, Rhaegar knows that his birthfather was valiant, that his birthfather rode the greatest dragon in the world, that his birthfather died in battle.
But there is so much he doesn't know, so much he will inevitably learn as he grows up, and it is precisely that future that frightens you. You hug him as if you're afraid of losing him.
"Princess."
The deep voice of your sworn protector echoes behind you, and you straighten your skirt.
You know he is there.
You know you will see him the moment you turn around.
Your heartbeat quickens.
Aemond Targaryen stands behind your sworn protector, surrounded by two guards. His hands are bound in front of him.
It is so strange to see your uncle in this vulnerable position. He who for so long has been on the other side, he who for so long has been the one who bent others to his will. He looks at you harshly, and you almost feel the need to apologise.
But you know it is a matter of caution.
You know that Daemon, you know that Jace and even your mother would never have agreed to bring him in if such precautions hadn't been taken.
You admire his resilience, his determination. You admire his ability to hold his head high, to be confident, despite the fact that he is being treated like a common prisoner, about to be sentenced to death.
You struggle to swallow the lump that has formed in your throat.
"Who's that, muña?" Aemond's eyes leave you and immediately drop to the small figure that has appeared beside you, reaching for your hand, huddling against your leg, shy and worried.
Immediately, your husband's icy gaze, his lilac-coloured eyes, soften.
"Thank you, Sir Rowan. You may leave us."
Despite the worry on his face, your sworn protector nods, unties his prisoner's hands and walks back to your mother, accompanied by the other two guards. You watch them leave, and a strange silence fills the space between you and your uncle.
He doesn't look at you; his eyes are riveted to your son, whom he observes with wonder. He looks as if he is admiring the most beautiful and fascinating discovery he has ever seen. You look down to see Rhaegar's reaction, and he seems as intimidated as he is hypnotised by that gaze, by that blue and purple eye so similar to his owns, by this man looking at him as if he were one of the most marvellous things in the world.
"Gods, he's perfect," Aemond murmurs as he looks up at you, emerging from his trance. He comes closer to embrace you. And for once, there is something other than his usual brutal possessiveness and ferocity when his arms close around you.
*** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Aemond is shy at first. Awkward.
He's shy and amazed as he follows your son's every move with his good eye. From time to time, his gaze rests on you, as if to make sure he's not dreaming. As if to make sure he is doing right, seeking your approval.
Rhaegar is shy too, at first.
When he sits on your lap, he snuggles up to you, buries his face in your neck, one of your locks curled in his chubby little hand and he rubs it against his nose. From time to time, he turns to give his father a curious look, recognising his own eyes in the unfamiliar face before him.
Aemond's expression grows gentler, a softness never seen in his features before.
Once he has tamed the stranger, the little boy pecks at the blueberries in the tart in front of him. He shakes his legs, hitting your knees in painful little jabs, and your arm wraps around his body to hold him down.
Rhaegar loves cake, and the sugar may be coaxing him, for he's regaining his appetite for talking.
"He really does have my eyes," Aemond whispers incredulously, and his voice, still foreign to his son's ears, causes the little boy to lift his head.
" It is definitely the only thing he has inherited from you," you reply, teasing him with a small smile at the corner of your lips.
Soon Rhaegar finishes the blueberry tart, the cream smeared over the bottom of his face and the tip of his nose.
"He inherited that from you, that is certain." Aemond grins, pointing with his long chin at the boy's voracious appetite for cakes and pastries.
You have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming. That your husband is really standing in front of you, with your son, like a normal family.
That he was truly trying to tell a joke.
This form of domesticity is so alien to your relationship, and yet so pleasant, that you find yourself thinking that perhaps you have made the right decision, indeed, if every day can be like this.
"Your muña deserves some cake too, what do you say, little one?"
Rhaegar giggles. Aemond cuts a slice of your favourite cake, the one with the strawberries, and puts it on your plate.
You blush. After all these years, he hasn't forgotten which one is your favourite.
You can't even really whisper a thank you because this apparent domesticity, this feeling of completeness, this interlude of happiness makes you uneasy. Anxious.
You have the feeling that at any moment you'll be plunged back into the horror of what you went through all those years ago.
You have the feeling that at any moment the Gods will be cruel and snatch away this happiness that you've barely been able to taste, leaving only the memory of its sweet taste on your lips.
You breathe in and out, as you often do when you feel your palpitations rising in your chest.
"Do you... do you want to take him on your lap?" you ask your uncle with shyness, your hand stroking Rhaegar's thick brown curls. Aemond looks at you as if you have spoken in a foreign language. Lips parted, he is about to say something, but not a sound escapes his lips. His lonely eye travels from you to your son, from your son to you, in silence.
"I don't know if -"
You can hear the doubt in his voice, and it's almost touching to see him lose his confidence in front of his own son, to see him so nervous and unsure of himself.
You let out a little laugh, not in mockery, obviously, just full of tenderness.
You know what he's thinking.
He's afraid of frightening him.
He's afraid of harming him.
"You won't hurt him, Aemond."
He answers nothing. He still doesn't like to look vulnerable, unsure, and you know it has to do with his childhood. With all he has kept bottled up inside him all these years. He will need time.
Your eyes fall back to the little boy sitting in your lap, and you draw his attention to yourself by stroking the curls on his forehead.
"Do you want to go to Aemond for a while? To kepus?"
you correct yourself immediately, and Rhaegar nods in agreement.
You are amazed at how easily he slips off your legs to run to his father, to pull himself onto his lap, when only a few hours ago he was so intimidated by the presence of this stranger with the eyepatch.
Your uncle automatically puts his arm around his waist to make him feel comfortable, his new role taking root in him. His fingers reach for the cloth on the table, and he wipes Rhaegar's face, who can't help but burst out laughing at his father's clumsy gestures.
For a split second you are lost in contemplating the horizon, the stillness of the sea. You taste the sea breeze on your face.
And then you turn your head towards the cobbled path where the guards and your sworn protector are still stationed.
Your mother is no longer there, and you notice that you have not at any time felt the need to seek comfort in her presence.
You smile, for in the end you know you've made the right decision.
*** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Dragonstone, 6 months later.
When you walk the corridors of the place that saw you grow up, you are no longer haunted by the ghosts and their incessant cries. A kind of peace has settled over you, a return to the pleasant familiarity you've waited so long for.
You still think of Luke, of course. Of Luke and Joff and little Aegon and Viserys, your brothers you will never see grow old.
But you no longer feel their disapproving glances at every step you take. You are no longer kept awake by their cries, by their tears, by the remorse that twists your stomach.
You no longer blame yourself.
Perhaps you've finally learnt to make peace with yourself.
The heavy door of the bedroom you share with Aemond is half open, and you slip your head into the doorway, piqued by curiosity.
Snuggled on your husband's lap, Rhaegar is staring at the pages of a large book, the corners of which you can guess are horned, the cover worn, from being carried everywhere. You can imagine the jam stains that mark the paper with children's fingerprints. You know exactly which page is missing, the one you and Aemond accidentally tore out and hid so the Septa wouldn't notice, so many years ago.
It is a book about dragons, the very one the two of you used to read hidden under the table when you were so young and innocent, long before the torment of war.
Without a sound, you lean against the doorframe and contemplate for a moment the perfect vision before you.
You don't have the cruelty to disturb them.
"This one is Vhaegar!" shouts Rhaegar, and you hold your breath, searching Aemond's face for any hint that might betray his reaction. The mention of his former dragon is still a sensitive subject for him, you know it.
"Yes, that's Vhagar." he pauses. "She was brave."
From the corner of his eye, Aemond spots your silhouette in the faint glow of the corridor, and his attention lingers on you for a moment. He's almost embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable, intimate moment, but you smile tenderly to encourage him.
"And big!" the little boy adds, energetically raising his arms to the sky to emphasise his words.
"Yes, and big." There's a suspended moment of silence where the words hang in the air, and then your husband gently ruffles his son's hair. It's a tender sight to see them bond like this, and your heart fills with happiness.
Taking a step forward, you step into the light of the room and Rhaegar expresses his joy at seeing you. You smile back at him and approach the chair where Aemond sits, your son on his lap.
Your uncle's hand instantly rests on the curve of your belly, which he still stares at with the same protective instinct, the same fascination, as the day you told him the news. His eyes sparkle.
"Your daughter is restless today."
He looks up at you, not without lingering for a moment on your breasts and their new shape.
"My daughter?" he asks, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.
"I'm convinced it's a girl. You reply, smiling wryly, and take a seat in the armchair next to the one where Aemond and your son are sitting, facing the fireplace. "And she took after her father, given her temper," you tease him, your hand on the top of your rounded belly to soothe the baby growing there.
Rhaegar's eyes close slowly. Nestled against the chest of the man who, just a few months ago, was still a stranger, he fights sleep, he fights to stay awake, but tiredness quickly overcomes him. And then he falls asleep, his mouth half open, the movements of his breath making his chest rise and fall rhythmically.
Aemond finally gets up. You follow his movements with your eyes as he approaches you, the child in his arms, and he plants a kiss on the top of his head.
"I'm going to put him to bed. I'll be right back." He straightens and lowers his voice.
"I wouldn't fail in my duty and neglect my wife." The heat rises to your cheeks, turning them red at the implication of what awaits you tonight. You're already wet between your thighs at the thought.
But you nod in agreement and watch him walk away.
You are left alone in the silence of the room. The only sound around you is the steady crackling of the fire.
It's strange, you think, to be back on Dragonstone, in the familiarity of the stones you've spent most of your life between, after getting used to the idea of not surviving the war.
To the idea of dying from a broken heart.
To the idea of dying, the umpteenth victim of the vicious spiral of conflict that has torn your family apart.
And yet here you are.
With your own family.
For once you have hope for the future. You hear the cries of your little brother, lost in the storm so long ago, but they are quickly replaced by the laughter of a happy memory.
And finally, you have the absolute confirmation that you have made the right decision.
*** *** *** *** ***
Thank you so much for reading!! <3
Tag list : @minttea07 @queenofshinigamis (I'm tagging you since you asked for it ❤️)
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‧₊˚✧ Everything Stays, Right Where You Left It ‧₊˚✧
↳ meeting once again after you returned home
feat: Azul ❋ Jamil ❋ Sebek ❋ Jade
genre: hurt/comfort, romance
note: no pronouns used with the reader, speculations of how Yuu/reader returns home are all theoretical (no canon timeline is confirmed at this time), established relationships, happy ending, a nickname for reader was used in Jamil ver.,
I didn’t add a quote or “voice line” like my typical headcanons/scenarios posts because it felt unnatural to this vibe.
Song suggestion: Everything Stays by Olivia Olson (Adventure Time)
You broke your own heart saying goodbye to him. Whether he begged you to stay or reluctantly let you go, the overwhelming pain burned deep in his soul when he saw your figure disappear into the mirror, to where he couldn't reach you anymore.
Time waits for no man and he has to keep going, without you by his side.
But then, just as mysteriously as before, you appeared once more before him, beautiful as the day you left.
“I missed you…”
Such an unfortunate soul, he first thought. A fish out of water, so far away from anything or anyone you knew, Azul hoped you would find comfort in him, for a price of course.
But you surprised him with your unyielding character, quick adaptability and eagerness to keep Azul on his toes. You were a tricky customer who threw him for a loop, and he became ever grateful you did. Friendly competition and cheeky comments became shy smiles and soon longing embraces.
But your efforts to find clues to your mysterious arrival to Twisted Wonderland bore fruit, and you were able to find a way to open a portal to return home. But you weren’t sure what was going to happen once you crossed that portal. You may have to say goodbye…forever.
This was a deal he just couldn’t make, the cards were against him. Azul would have bargained with every morsel under his name just to keep you in Twisted Wonderland, with him.
But there was a chance for you to finally return home, back to where you had a whole life before being whisked into this magical world. You had no regrets coming to this world, meeting Azul, and eventually loving him, but you couldn’t abandon your old life, without even an explanation.
Azul understood that, he truly did. So he used the last moments he still had with you to give you an experience you could never forget, so you could never forget him. At least Azul could let you go without regrets.
But still, on the night of your departure, muffled cries could be heard through the walls of the merman’s bedroom. He thought he could put on a brave face for you as you made your way to the mirror, but he still had tears left to shed as your figure finally disappeared from his sight, out of his reach.
It took so long for him to change his routine since you left. He had to squash that yearning part of himself that kept hoping you would suddenly walk through the doors of Mostro Lounge and give him that warm smile that melts his stress away.
Sometimes he wakes up, reaching out to your warmth on his bed only to see the vacant space in his too-large bed. For a creature from the icy waters, he felt so unbearingly cold since your departure.
The fateful reunion
He was almost over you, ready to move on with his life after 2 years since your farewell. He was off to complete his independent study for his final year when he heard news of the Dark Mirror lighting up one random day and a mysterious figure fell out from its glass.
When he returned to the campus, Azul had to weave your old friends and other curious students around you in your old Ramshackle dorm, but when your eyes met his, his eyes lit up as though it finally came to life once more. You looked a little older and all the more beautiful, Azul almost fell to his knees in disbelief.
Nervously, you walked towards your former lover with a glint of fear in your eyes. 2 years may not mean much in the long run but it was still plenty for the merman to forget you, a piece of his life perhaps best left behind. But still, lost in his blue eyes, as deep as the ocean he hails from, you whispered the thoughts you had the moment you stepped back into your world.
“I missed you, Azul.”
Swift as a wave, strong arms wrapped around you as you pulled into an ever-familiar embrace. Soft curls tickled your face as the bespectacled man pressed his face into your shoulder. Despite being hidden away from watching eyes, you could hear his sniffles as he cried in the comfort of your arms.
But you soon joined him as the rush of emotions rushed within you, your control crumbling apart when you heard the soft plea Azul whispered into your skin, words he kept locked away all these years.
“Please…don’t leave me.”
You were like him in a way. Trapped in a situation you didn’t decide yourself, forced to adapt and live with the cards given to you. To put aside your feelings of helplessness and laugh, like a smiling genie stuck confined to a tiny lamp.
What was first pity became a bond from a kinship to an affectionate fondness for one another. The two of you even joked about traveling the world some day, just to give each other that chance to feel free together.
But by chance Crowley found a way for you to return home, a choice to free yourself from your bizarre predicament. Suddenly, Jamil felt even lonelier than he has ever thought possible.
Then, Jamil couldn’t help but laugh to himself. Of course, anything that he desired could never be his. What was he thinking? He should have known something as amazing as you was too good to be true.
An expert liar, he congratulated you on such a fortuitous event. He wore his well-crafted smile as he told you how glad he was for you to return home, to gain the freedom the two of you dreamed of.
A man trained as a servant, Jamil knew how to push down his selfish thoughts, even when you knew that he wasn’t being truthful with his words.
Great Sevens, he loved you for knowing him so well. He loved you so much that he convinced you to go home, as no one knew if such an opportunity would ever come again. This time, he was truly happy to ignore his selfish desires, if it’s for you.
But even Kalim, for as oblivious as he can be sometimes, knew to leave Jamil alone in his room that day when he shared one last kiss with you before you disappeared behind the magical mirror.
The fateful reunion
It’s been 2 years since Jamil and Kalim graduated from Night Raven College, 5 years since either of them saw you since your departure, since he last felt whole.
The first few years, Kalim tried to cheer his childhood friend, offering words of comfort and even hoped that perhaps you would return someday. You magically came here before, who’s to say it won’t happen again?
The well-meaning Asim heir only stopped mentioning you when Jamil lost his composure one night, screaming at him to stop making him hope for something so impossible. To Jamil, what hurts him more than you leaving him was losing hope that you could come back someday.
Since that day, Kalim did his best not to mention your name near the long-haired man in fear of opening old wounds.
Which is why Jamil was confused when the snow-haired heir called him during his overseas trip, urging him to return to Silk City immediately.
“Jamil, you gotta come back! It happened!”
Jamil’s heart beat hard against his chest, the long buried hope he tried to crush came back, fueling his body to run towards the fastest route back to his hometown. His pessimistic logic demanded him to lower his expectations but that childish longing in him begged him to run faster.
There, inside the Asim family’s large room, you stood there in the middle of the room surrounded by lavish walls and decor. The room was filled with luxurious ornaments and bright colors, but Jamil could only see you and your beautiful face with eyes as mesmerizing as he remembered in his dreams.
“Jamil…I-“
Before you could fully speak, the usually collected man ran to you without restraint as he encased you in his arms, as though he feared this to be a cruel mirage. His selfishness bled through as he held you closer than he ever had with anyone, his racing heart could be felt between you two.
“I missed you, habibti.”
Being with Sebek was like an adventure. A man with such vigor and determination towards life gave you the motivation to go through this strange new world the same way. You didn’t know if you could never return home but what good was it to give up on being happy?
What started off as admiration turned to fondness, then after an awkward period of confusing feelings, the two of you started a meaningful relationship. Sebek was insistent on formally courting you with the intentions of marrying you, but you told him you’d marry him with a paper ring. Sebek expressed feelings of indignation but the flush of his ears said otherwise.
But hidden in old fae books locked away in the royal libraries, Lilia found stories of people who came to this world seemingly the same way as you…with a way to send you back. It would have been impossible to gather enough magical energy to return you to your original world, but Malleus was the only one capable of accomplishing this feat. For his dear friend and his trusted guard’s beloved, he would gladly do this grand favor.
How…fortunate you are.
Sebek was stunned silent over this revelation. He should be happy, shouldn’t he? Despite your smiles and laughs, he knew the days where you would look out in a daze, lost in your feelings of homesickness. He told himself that he would give you everything if he could, no matter the pain it may occur to him…
Malleus gave the two of you time to discuss amongst yourselves and you could see your green-haired lover mentally fighting with himself. That was fair, you too were emotionally split over this information.
With a heavy heart, Sebek chose to let you go. He feared that if he were to speak his desires, someday you would grow to resent him for holding onto you. You told him otherwise but all of your arguments lead to the same conclusion, you needed to return home.
With tear-filled eyes, Sebek watched as you were engulfed with his liege’s magic, a blinding glow wrapping around you like a chrysalis. Though he denies it, he was grateful for Silver’s comforting hand on his shoulder as he broke down to his knees, a burning pain in his chest and the stinging of his tears cascading down his face.
The fateful reunion
The years were good to him, after 10 years he became what he always dreamed to be, a recognized guard of the royal family, under his magnanimous king.
With the advice of Lilia, the grown half-fae decided to keep a journal with records of his accomplishments and struggles, everything he wished he could tell you. Perhaps in hopes that he could one day share his life with you, or perhaps simply a way to keep his spirits up since your departure.
Sebek is not usually the one to dwell too much in the past, rather the type to look towards the future. But on occasion, he catches himself lost in his thoughts over his moments with you whenever he comes across something that reminds him of you, which were a lot of things.
He tried to kick this habit, as it was troubling for a guard to get so easily distracted, especially if he was meant to guard his king with his life. Eventhough Malleus, Lilia, and Silver were understanding over his situation, Sebek chastised his unprofessional behavior.
Even now, he was angry with himself when he sees a mysterious figure walking towards him at the castle’s gate under this heavy downpour. For a moment, he froze over how familiar this figure was, who walked uncannily similarly to the way you did, long ago.
Shaking this thought away, Sebek demanded this suspicious figure to stop before stepping any closer to the castle’s gate.
“Reveal yourself! Lest you prepare to meet my spear!”
“Sebek?”
Your voice struck him like lightning, stunned him in his post as flashes of the past rushed through him. You cautiously stepped closer, Sebek finally able to see your face under the castle’s lights. Like him, you grew considerably since he last saw you, but still as enchanting as that fateful day, even when you were drenched in the pouring weather.
With a whisper of your name, Sebek unceremoniously tossed his weapon to the muddy ground as he forsaken his position to run to you. Closing you in his arms, he could smell that comforting scent of you even in the drenching rain. Your warm body soothed his own as he shared a deep kiss with you under the rain, a decade of his longing finally rushing out in this unbelievable miracle that was you.
“I missed you, for so long.”
Jade was certainly curious about you. You reminded him of an old famous tale in his hometown, of a young mermaid who found herself in a world that was nothing like her own. He found amusement in you as you gasped and floundered over the myriad of magical possibilities that were a mere commodity in Twisted Wonderland. How adorable you were, he thought.
Fascination replaced curiosity and soon infatuation came into play. Eventually, Jade has come to enjoy your company more than anyone else’s, and he had to maintain a steady smile when you confessed your mutual feelings for him.
But when the Dark Mirror announced that a portal to your world has opened once more, he found difficulty in keeping his practiced smile. His otherworldly lover has a chance to return home, leaving him behind.
The eel merman was grateful for your attempts to comfort him, telling him that you could refuse this offer. You entertained the thought that perhaps the portal will appear once more at a later date, to diminish the significance of this opportune chance.
But Jade is no fool, he never was. No matter how happy you were with him, he recognises the wistful looks when a reminder of your old world is brought up. While he revels in the stories you joyfully regaled him of your past, he can hear the soft sighs under your breath and the melancholic smile upon your lips.
What was that phrase land-dwellers are so fond of? “If you love something, set it free.”
Jade never knew he could love someone as much he did with you, he didn't think he would ever do this for anyone. How amazing you are, it seems.
Jade loved you enough to let you go. He loved you enough to hold you as you cried through your broken goodbyes. He loved you just enough to finally let go of your hand as your figure disappeared into the magical glass.
And Floyd and Azul loved him enough to delegate his vice housewarden duties as he holed himself in his terraturim collection for days after your departure.
The fateful reunion
1 year has passed and while there have been some changes, there are things that stayed the same. Though now third years, Jade maintained his position as Octavinelle’s vice housewarden, by Azul’s side.
As such, his presence was appreciated in the Hall of Mirrors as new students filled the room, anxiously waiting for their dorm sorting. While this was a grand occasion for many young mages, Jade doubts that anything can outdo the unorthodox events that happened a year ago, when you appeared.
He couldn’t help but chuckled to himself when he recalled the ruckus you and Grim made, the reckless beast yelling out such amusing things.
“MY HENCHHUMAN IS BACK!”
Oh my, speak of the devil.
Grim, much stronger than he was before, burst through the heavy doors as he ran about with fat tears soaking the fur on his face. The notorious Heartslabyul duo tried to grab hold of the rambunctious creature but nothing could quell the ball of fur.
Hasty footsteps were heard as a figure came rushing in soon after, seemingly chasing the bawling Grim. Upon your appearance, the row of gasps and shouts echoed through the room, specifically from the older students and the faculty.
Jade felt a rush of emotion crashing into him. As a desperate measure, he tried to forget your face lest he wished to stay haunted by your image through restless nights. But there you stood looking as beautiful as the day he lost you.
Cautiously, he walked towards you like a wary eel. If this was a cruel trick, he will not be merciful towards anyone who believes they can play with a Leech’s heart.
But when your gaze matched his, he felt the world start once more, as though it fell to a stop the moment you disappeared. Your expressive eyes were the same beautiful sight he fell in love with, even when lined with building tears.
“Jade,” you whispered in disbelief. “I missed you so much”
With quick movement, Jade pulled you into him as he engulfed himself in the joy he’s feeling. Your touch, your voice, your scent, it’s all back.
What was that phrase land-dwellers are so fond of? “If it returns, it was meant to be.”
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Co-Pilots
Nobody asked for this. I have the flu. I needed something nice to focus on and apparently this was it. Blame @lorna-d-m my partner in crime :) also kudos to winniemaywebber and sagesolscitcewrites because i def read all their stuff and was vibing it and the pet names and stuff sooo hard
Rated: 18+
Word Count: approx. 3k
Tags: MMF, fluff and reassurance, mentions of wartime ptsd, body confidence issues, mentions of having children, PiV sex, female receiving oral, male receiving oral, voyeurism, no stated use of contraception
A/N: Croz is referred to as Crosby, Harry, and Bing in this (so as not to confuse). And idk what rank Rosie is by this point so were just going with Major
✈️
The bright lights blinded you the first time you walked through New York City; tonight was no different. Flashes of neon whites, golds, blues, reds, lit up your path as you entered the lobby to the Ritz hotel. Your husband had made arrangements for you to meet him in the city much as he had a near 2 years ago during the height of the war. You wanted to meet him at the airport. Crosby insisted he find you at the hotel. And now, with Hitler defeated, he was on his way home. For good.
His phone call had startled you. Usually, you wrote him weekly, sometimes more if you felt lonesome. Harry’s letters were less frequent, but no less loving. Little Steve kept you more than busy most days, back home safe terrorizing your mother and father while you got some rest and relaxation with your Bing in the big city. The toddler was a shining light in your dark days. He had the same dark curls, the same downturned eyes as his father. A piece of your love that was yours no matter what the war brought - or took.
You’d nearly lost your footing when you heard his voice, gruff and mellow, across the line. Darlin’ it's me, he'd said, I'm coming home but I've got some business to finish in the city, meet me there. I'm bringing Rosie, you remember him yeah? Said he'll take us dancing at the best jazz spots. I love you Mrs. Crosby. See you soon.
Now you wait in the lobby for your love and his friend.
Minutes tick by as you wait. Maybe the plane was late? Maybe they had to meet somewhere after landing to debrief? Maybe there was a problem with the engine? Just as your maybes started to drown out the chatter and bustle around you a voice rang out.
“Well ho-ly mackerel, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes Mrs. Crosby.”
The sight of your husband had you dashing into his waiting arms. Tears streamed down your face as you kissed him senseless over and over and over. Crosby couldn’t contain his laughter at your reaction, nor did he bother hiding it when he wiped his eyes dry.
“I’ve missed you so much Bing.”
His forehead rested on yours. “God how I’ve missed you too, Darlin’.”
Over his shoulder you notice a taller man, stylish moustache and curls neatly gelled into place, attempting to avert his eyes and give your reunion privacy. You were struck by how attractive he was. “Bing?”
“Oh!” Harry takes a step back. “Darlin’ this is Robert Rosenthal - or Rosie as us boys like to call him.”
Rosie gives a toothy smile and holds out his hand for a firm shake; “so nice to meet you, Mrs. Crosby. Croz here has told me all about you.”
Giving your husband a raised eyebrow, you ask “all good things I hope?”
Both men chuckle. “Only the best, ma’am.”
The three of you settled into your rooms before deciding that a celebration was in order. Rosie commandeered the evening, promising only the best jazz New York had to offer. Drinks flowed, the band jived, and couples danced the night away.
Night after night, Rosie took you somewhere new. You’d split your time whirling the dancefloor between both your husband and his pilot friend, never satisfied until your feet ached. Harry claimed all the slow dances, nestled up close to your body. But Rosie? He got the fast-paced, jumping, hip swaying swing that Crosby claimed he couldn’t keep up with. Two left feet, he’d claim. Each morning after you slept in the plush, luxurious Ritz bed until lunchtime while they attended to their military duties.
Friday rolled around. It had been a week of this routine. You should’ve been exhausted, you should’ve wanted to slow down - after all you were no spring chicken anymore. Yet, something about being in the arms of your husband and Rosie as you swayed to Duke Ellington, Benny Goodman, and Glen Miller felt so right.
When the barkeep yelled for “last call” you knew it was time to retire for the evening.
“Say, why don’t you come have a nightcap in our room, Rosie? Crosby asked.
The three of you settle into the living room of the suite assigned to you and your husband. Bing plops into an armchair with a satisfied huff. You join Rosenthal on the loveseat, a respectable distance inbetween. A bottle of whisky sits open on the fireplace mantle. Conversation comes and goes as the trio fall from the high of the night. It’s easy. Almost makes the boys forget the horrors they endured in Europe.
Around 1am the conversation begins to lull as you finish regaling the group with a story of the shenanigans you and your girlfriends would get up to during university days. “-You think you boys were bad flying all around in your skivvies, but it was nothing compared to us girls that night!” Laughter filled the room until all had let it trickle to a close; the silence was warm like the fireplace embers. Robert sat enraptured by your story, by your beauty, by the thought of you under that blue dress and all your curves. He knew he shouldn’t have noticed…..he was just a man after all. And with the things he’d seen? Could you really blame him?
“How long’s it been Rosie?” The question broke the man’s gaze from you and directed it towards Crosby. He didn’t know it was so obvious.
Rosie was about to stumble out an answer, an apology for looking at you like that, he doesn’t know, when Croz interrupts again. “When’s the last time you felt the touch of a good woman, Rosie?” Harry waits for an answer. Rosenthal can feel his face heat; he runs his fingers through his hair mussing the curls out of place. This confident Crosby was much bolder than the one he’d met when he first shipped out to the 100th. “Before the war?” There is no judgment in his eyes, no disdain or hesitation towards his comrade as he asks. Rosie shakes his head in affirmation. His glass clinks against the table as he sets it down, whisky unfinished.
Crosby sighs. “Too long.”
“Too damn long…” Rosie agrees in a mumble.
You sit and watch the boys in rapt attention before meeting Bing's chocolatey eyes. Rosenthal is a good man, a great one from what your husband’s letters proved, and he deserves kindness and softness after all he’s been through. They both do. A delicate hand moves to rest on Rosie’s knee where he sits next to you. His brow furrows. The Major flits his gaze between you and your husband.
In all seriousness Crosby says “It’s alright, I don’t mind.” He tilts his head forward in permission, a silent go ahead.
The navigator noticed how Rosie looked at you all night, how you returned the glances like a game of chicken. Each admiring but neither willing to do anything about it. How the two of you danced around the club without a care in the world at his insistence. He hadn’t seen Rosie smile like that in ages. He knew you hadn’t laughed like that since before he announced he was heading to the front. You definitely were reveling in the attention of both men tonight. This was never something you had discussed with your husband; somehow you just knew each other well enough even after so long apart to know that it was okay. It was something you both wanted.
Your fingers drifted higher on Rosie’s thigh; not enough to be indecent, but enough to get the message across. His larger palm came to rest atop yours, stopping the movement. “You uh- you’re okay with this?” the Brooklyn native questioned.
Without hesitation you reassure “I am.”
In a measured, almost odd approach Rosenthal shifts towards you. His lips hover over your cheek for a moment before the softest kiss brushes your skin. The whiskers of his mustache tickle. You can’t help the grin that threatens to break. He continues to kiss along your cheek, once, twice, thrice, each getting closer to your waiting lips. Finally, his chapped lips meet yours. This kiss is awkward at first as he gathers his bearing, quickly finding a rhythm as if no time had passed since he last kissed a pretty dame.
Crosby sunk deeper into his chair as he watched. He could feel the tell-tale sign of his slacks becoming tighter as he watched his best girl and his best friend. “She loves it when you kiss her neck,” he instructed with that smirk of his. Rosie dragged his lips to your throat. “Little lower-” again he shifted “-right there.” A moan slipped from your parted lips as your body warred with the directions from your husband and the attentions from your lover.
The room felt stifling. Rosie’s coat, your dress, his shirt, your stockings, his trousers, your brassiere - each fluttered off to the floor one by one. Even Bing had lost his button down.
The Major guided you onto your back along the couch, trailing open mouthed kisses down your sternum, along your breasts. A moment of clarity passed your mind that your body was different now than the last time you had been made love to, whether by your husband or not, since the baby. Your breasts weren't as pert, your stomach was softer than it used to be. Lips pursed, you let out a small sigh.
“What’s wrong darlin’?” Bing asked. The navigator leaned towards you, brushing a strand of fallen hair from your face. “You know I can read you better than any map.” Rosie stopped and rested his chin on your abdomen to look up.
“We can stop,” Rosie offered.
“No, It’s silly…” you tried to brush off.
Both men came to your defense immediately. Looking between the two you finally settle on your husband’s face. “It’s just that… since the last time we saw each other I’m different. My body changed and- I don’t know. I want it to be enough for you. For you both,” you add with a look to Rosie.
Crosby drops from the chair to his knees before you. “My pretty girl.” He kisses you slowly. “We’ve all changed.” From below Rosie adds nothing is the same. “You are still the most beautiful, most incredible, woman I’ve ever seen. Gosh - you’re my wife. Mrs. Crosby! I would fight to the ends of the earth to come home to you.” Softer he adds “I did fight to come home to you… and to bring this flak-happy bastard along too,” he laughed, nudging his elbow at his mate. “Now be a good girl and let us treat you right.” At your nod Rosie resumes his ascent down your waiting body.
With a flourish your panties are gone, your dripping center exposed to his hungry stare. “What does she like, Croz? Because I'm not stopping until she comes begging all over my tongue.” He licks a deep stripe along your slit. “Sweet as sugar, babydoll.” Gone is the man unsure of himself, and in place is a god amongst men who knows exactly what he wants. It’s all you can do to hold on as Rosie devours you at your husband’s suggestions. Fingers dig into the cushions, tangle into his curls as you writhe under him.
Rosie puts in his best effort to undo you; your husband saunters up to your face, his pants long forgotten. Cock stiff and ready, dripping with need, he runs the tip of his thumb against your bottom lip. Your teeth nibble at the pad. “Think you can take me too, darlin’?” A whimpered please is all that comes out.
A cacophony of moans fills the air as your senses are assaulted - Rosie latched to your pussy like a lifeline and your Crosby’s cock deep inside your mouth. “That’s it darlin’, just like that. I bet you missed me, huh? I can tell you did, sweet girl. Fuck I missed you….”
You gave him everything you had as you licked and sucked at his length. You could have sworn it was bigger than you remembered. He could tell by the look in your eyes you were getting closer, hell he was too. Lord knew he didn’t want to finish like some schoolboy in your lovely mouth. Crosby pulled himself out and you gasped for air. Cheeks flushed and sweat dripping down your temple he turned to his partner. “Use your fingers Rose, drives her wild when you crook them up inside her ‘n don't be afraid to get rough - give her a nip.” He punctuated the end of his command with a nip of his own to your throat. Rosie did exactly as instructed, sending you careening further to the edge and hips bucking.
“Oh- please Rosie- oh god don’t stop-” tumbles out as you start to fall. You swear you feel him humming against your clit as his fingers burn pleasure into your skin.
“That’s it darlin’, just let go for him. Being such a good girl for us,” croons your Bing.
When it all gets too much you gently push him from you. He goes gracefully, dropping chaste kisses to your thighs and hips. Despite feeling like a bowl of jello you remember your purpose tonight - to give Rosie a proper homecoming.
Sitting up you demand he rid himself of his trousers.
He grins. “Yes ma’am.”
Just as Rosie goes to cover your body again you place your hand on his broad chest, pushing until he is in a sitting position. You quickly seat yourself over his lap, his length resting against you. Grinding down, he grunts. “Let me take care of you Rosie, it’s okay.” Kissing his temple, the corner of his mouth, his Adam's apple, you repeat “I want to take care of you dear, let me.”
With another roll of your hips he enters you. He feels different than your husband, but no less wonderful. Rosie’s hands land firmly on your hips as you rock above him. He knows he won't last long, you feel too good. “God Croz how do you do it? She’s so- ugh fuck” he grunts, head tossed back as you squeeze his length.
“I know, Rose, I know. Just like heaven.” Your husband rubs your back as you move.
Rosenthal buries his face in the crook of your neck, his whimpers muffled so that only you can hear. There are no words for him to describe this feeling: the feeling of being comforted, the feeling of warmth, the feeling of home inside you, even if just for tonight. He almost feels a tear spring to his eyes. Circling your arms around his shoulders you remind him that you’ve got him, that he’s safe, that you're here. You pick up the pace as you ride him, bringing him closer and closer to his fate. His pelvis bucks up to meet yours with every roll.
“Honey I- I’m getting real close.”
You seal your lips on his; “I’ve got you, Rosie. I want you to come for me dear.”
With a deep groan he lifts you off his cock, his spend covering your stomachs and lap in a sticky mess. You hold him as he comes down from his high.
“That was wonderful, thank you…just, thank you.” You kiss him once more; he knows he doesn’t have to thank you for anything, but he does because he’s Rosie. He carefully cleans you of his come with his discarded undershirt.
Crosby drops his lips to the crown of your head, beginning to pull the pins out of your carefully styled hair. “Come here, Darlin’.” He helps to lift you from his colleagues’ lap. “I wanna make love to my wife.”
In seconds you’re on the floor under Crosby, his cock already buried to the hilt within you. Neither of you move as you both enjoy the feel of each other reunited as husband and wife. Whispered streams of I love you and I missed you and fuck you feel so good tumble from your lips, barely an inch apart. Harry would never need a map to know the curves, the sensitive spots, the constellations of beauty marks on your body - he knew it better in his memory than any map he could chart.
Besides you on the couch Rosie has slumped over to lay down, his arm hanging off towards you. Every breath of your husband’s puffs against your neck, every tickle of hair from across his chest reminds you that he’s here and he’s alive and he’s yours. Emotion overwhelmed you; “Bing, love please, I need you.”
Crosby hitches your thigh up and around his hip; “I’m here Darlin’.” With that he starts to thrust within your walls. His lithe body moves with a power you had nearly forgotten. Each roll of his hips he pounds into you harder, faster, with abandon; his dog tags cool against your breasts where they hung. Harry was a gentle man, but held so much emotion inside. He could let go with you.
Your next orgasm was building, hotter and faster than the first. Nails raking down your husband’s back, you reached out your other to grab hold of Rosie’s outstretched palm. The slap of skin echoed around the room, mixed with the crackle of the fire and the sound of heaving breaths.
An inferno raged within you. Every touch, every movement atop you sent sparks down every nerve ending. You didn’t know where you stopped and your husband began. ��Fuck Bing mmmm- Harry please-” The rug beneath you rubbed your back raw but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as long as he kept going.
Crosby had his thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit in an instant. “Tell me you’re close, I need you to come Darlin’.” You couldn’t catch your breath so you nodded the best you could while squeezing the life out of Rosie’s fingers.
Another snap of his hips and you’re gone, obliterated. Everything felt euphoric and white-hot. Crosby follows suit, his release filling you and your name on his tongue. Bruises will surely linger on your thighs.
There you lay, tangled in the afterglow, your loving husband above you stroking his knuckles against your side and your new lover’s hand in yours. No words needed to be spoken. The moment you shared would be seared into your mind forever playing on repeat. God forbid another crisis happened that would ship your boys out and away from you - yet if it did you would hold on to tonight like a talisman. It had been a long four years, and longer so for them. But the war was won, with spoils a plenty.
Finally.
Lips meeting your Bing’s sweat-slicked forehead, your grip on Rosenthal tightens. “Welcome home my boys, welcome home.”
Tags: @sagesolsticewrites @winniemaywebber @sailorscuttle @thirstyvampyr @hellfirequinnie @lorna-d-m
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Hey, today i was walking home with my friend from high school when a gypsy old lady heard us, she said something about me being wise like a Rom Baro, she congratulated me and gave me this strange necklace that gives me gypsy vibes, i dont know if i should wear it, i mean its cool, but also suspicious. My friend put it on me and it started glowing, what is going on?
It makes you dizzy. You feel a bit sick. You tell your friend you have to leave. You start walking. Your friend calls after you. Something about his hand that was holding the chain feels funny. And that you should wait. You can't wait. You have to go. I have no idea where. Just away.
When you wake up the next morning, you're lying in the straw. Shit, where are you… It smells like… Horse? Yes, it's a horse stable. Of course it is. Your favorite mare foaled last night. You had to be there. You're a horse lover. A horse whisperer. Your mare is a magnificent animal. Her coat is almost the same color as your dark skin. And she runs like the wind. You are convinced that the young stallion attached to her udder will soon tell a very good price. Horses from your tribe are in great demand on the market. And rightly so.
Your mother calls for breakfast. Before that, you have to groom the mare. And muck out the stable. The horse is your capital. The horse always comes first.
Do you like being a gypsy? You've never thought about that. You're proud to be a gypsy. And your destiny is to soon become Rome Baro. And that is an honor and an obligation. But you are only 18 years old. That's not enough to lead a tribe. But you are doing your best to learn everything you need to know to be a good leader.
If you ask other people what it's like to be a gypsy, they usually have totally romantic ideas about singing and dancing around the campfire. Of fortune-tellers and thoroughbred horses. And some of that is true… But the reality is different. This morning your day started with problems with the water pump in one of the caravans. And you're about to meet the owner of the field where you're allowed to camp. That and much more is part of your duties as Rom Baro. Romantic? Emptying a blocked waste water tank. Well…
Horse trading is your main source of income. But sometimes you need money in between. And then it's not your mares that are your capital, but your abs. If you stand in the pedestrian zone, you can be sure that it won't be long before tourists want to be photographed with you. Yes, a bit humiliating. But no more humiliating than some poor sap taking another deep breath when you put your arm around him. Yes, you weaklings, that's what a real man smells like.
Business is a little slow today. People are stingy. Or in a hurry. Yet you look hot to fuck by your own standards… But it's not just you… There's competition up ahead. A picture of a gypsy! You know him… Isn't that…?
You haven't seen your brother since he effectively crowned you as Rom Baro by putting the chain around your neck. The joy of your reunion is great. And the demand for pictures with two model gypsies is much greater than with one. It's going to be a good day. And an even better night!
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Light in the Darkness Masterlist
A Companion Series to Destiny & Deliverance
Dieter Bravo X OFC ||| Last Updated: 01/31/2024
Series Summary: Dieter Bravo is in the midst of major life changes at the height of his acting career when he meets the beautiful and intriguing Natalia Cohen on a work trip. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their future.
Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol abuse, drug use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.
✨Note: This is a companion series to Destiny & Deliverance. The Light in the Darkness will cover events that take place in that fic from Dieter’s point of view. I recommend reading The Light in the Darkness AFTER Destiny & Deliverance.
EXTRAS ||| TEASERS ||| VIBES ||| MAIN MASTERLIST
New Chapters Coming Soon
Serendipitous Beginnings
Leading the Lost Soul Home
Reunions & Introductions
Catharsis
Descending into Madness
Living in the Darkness
Deliverance
Home
Serenity
If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM.
Divider Credits:
Reblog/MDNI: @cafekitsune
Stars: @saradika
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Triad Part 10 — Reunion Part
A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon
Series Masterlist
A/N: This POV switching is either incredibly hot or completely unhinged, you be the judge. I’ve decided (discovered) that Az has a bit of a daddy kink and loves to be called baby. Please enjoy, ig?
Click here to be added to the taglist so you never miss an update!
Warnings: Forgive me father, for I have sinned. A lot. Smut, anal sex, crossdressing (just a little bit, as a treat, but you might want to skip it if you’re sensitive to this sort of material), long distance sex, unprotected sex (they’re faeries. i think they take a potion for that or something), edging, slight daddy kink and dom/sub vibes
It’s not all sunshine and rainbows and happily ever afters, but you learn how to supplement each other’s magic through the bond and the boys learn to separate Az and Cas from Azriel and Cassian. Out on a mission? That’s Azriel and Cassian. But at home, or in the safety of a private, warded tent? Az and Cas start to spill their softness onto each other.
Trust and vulnerability are built in the bedroom first. It’s the easiest (and most fun) way to let your guards down, to let each other in.
Slowly but surely, that comfort starts to seep out into everyday life. It’s subtle, at first. Reassuring hand squeezes, soft smiles, quick pecks on cheeks, foreheads, lips; seeing your mates open up to each other makes the bond (and your heart) swell with love.
The first time Az calls Cas baby outside of the bedroom, you practically disintegrate.
Somewhere along the line, the edges blur a little bit. Cas will pull Az into his lap when they’re in Rhys’s office debriefing after a mission, needing to feel the beat of his mate’s heartbeat against his hand as proof that he’s still alive, or Az will send the cool, calming presence of his shadows to give Cas extra strength on the battlefield.
And tucked away in the relative privacy of a safe house, well…
“Cassian,” Az’s low growl slips through the crack beneath the door into the bathroom where Cas stands in front of the sink brushing his teeth. He pushes the door open and, toothbrush dangling out of one corner of his mouth, pokes his head out.
His face twitches with amusement at the sight of his mate’s narrowed eyes and furrowed brow; the dark brown sweater that usually pulls taught across Az’s chest sags, hanging loose in the shoulders. Cas’s face disappears for a second so he can spit his mouthful of toothpaste into the sink and then he stalks into the bedroom, crossing the distance between him and Az in long, lazy steps.
“You ruined my favorite sweater,” Az grumbles, swatting at the arms trying to snake their way around his waist.
“Sorry, baby, I couldn’t help it,” Cas responds, sending a flash of burning red magic towards his mate, tugging him back into Cas’s chest. “I missed you, and it just smelled so good…” Cas buries his face in Az’s hair, breathing that scent in.
“We’re supposed to be packing, you know,” Az murmurs, letting his body sink against the broad chest behind him. He’s in no hurry to leave, though he probably should be.
Cas trails his lips up until they’re hovering above Az’s ear.
“I know, I know. I’m worried about Y/N, too.” Cas pauses to clear his thickening throat. “I’ll finish packing—why don’t you take her down to the cafe for coffee and bring us back breakfast?” He ducks down to suck on Az’s earlobe, relishing in the way the supple flesh gives way to his teeth.
“You sure?”
“Yeah—go spend some time with our girl, make sure she feels special before we leave.”
While Cas finishes packing, Az takes you on a short walk to the nearest cafe, stopping at a flower cart to buy you a bouquet of beautiful red roses accented by baby’s breath and the most gorgeous, deep blue thistles.
When you return, Cas is seated at the kitchen table, the bags all packed and set next to the front door. The sight of them makes your stomach tighten and your mates feel a flutter of sadness tickling the bond.
Az starts setting out the food and you climb into Cas’s lap, straddling him with your flowers still cradled in your arm. His strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you steady, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck.
“Aw, did Azzie buy you some pretty flowers, baby?” he asks, running a hand up your back to thread his fingers in your hair.
“Yeah,” you mumble. “They’re red and blue to remind me of you while you’re gone.”
—
The first morning of their mission, Az wakes up to the sound of Cassian’s grunting and heavy breathing outside the little cabin they’re staying in. He peeks out the window to see his mate running through his morning training exercises and lets a smile take over his face at the familiar sight of tanned muscles straining under pressure.
Unfortunately, Az has to get going. He can’t linger, so he trudges over to his bag and digs out some clothes. Black pants, loose-fitting white tunic, a slim-fitting Illyrian leather vest, socks and… underwear. He can’t find any underwear. Just as he’s about to stomp outside and chew out Cas for forgetting to pack such an essential article of clothing, he remembers the pocket sewn onto the front of the bag. Unzipping it reveals a brightly-colored mess of silky, lacy underthings. Your underthings.
Frustration gives way to amusement as Az’s lips curl up into a smirk. He’s a man of opportunity, so he takes the challenge presented to him. Two can play at this game. He pulls out the pair he knows Cassian loves the most and layers his clothes over them, heading outside to drop a kiss on Cas’s lips before he leaves for the day.
—
It’s late. Too late, Cassian thinks as he twirls the glass in his hand, the deep red Fae wine swirling against the inside. Taking a long sip, he lets the alcohol sink in, dulling his worries so you and Az don’t feel them through the bond.
He drains the liquid and gets up for a refill, settling himself back into the armchair in front of the roaring fireplace. When his cup is nearly empty again, the old, wooden door creaks open and cool shadows stream in, brushing against Cas’s skin.
Azriel toes off his boots, leaving them on the mat next to the door, and grabs the half-empty bottle of wine off the kitchen counter before crossing the room to stand in front of Cas’s chair.
Cas eyes the bottle and tugs on Az’s free hand, pulling him closer.
“Rough day?” he asks, burying his face in Az’s chest.
“You could say that,” Az says, scowling a bit as he takes a swig straight from the mouth of the bottle.
Cas hums, knowing that if Az wants to talk about it, they’ll get there eventually. For now, he’s content to settle Az in his lap, letting the Shadowsinger use him as a chair. Az leans back, wings settling against Cas’s broad chest. His head fits perfectly perched atop Cas’s shoulder. The General’s hair is falling out of its messy topknot and Az twists the stray locks in his fingers as Cas works loosening the ties that lace up the back of Az’s vest until he can slip his hands under the soft tunic beneath the leather. Az’s lips tighten to prevent the smile from breaking on his face as Cas explores the expanse of skin now available to him.
The Lord of Bloodshed takes his time, trailing his fingertips lightly up and around the base of Az’s wings. Slowly, he moves further down, halting when he feels a rough patch situated just below the dips on Az’s lower back.
Cassian doesn’t attempt to hide his shit-eating grin. Instead, he lets it split him open and tucks his chin over one of Az’s shoulders, pushing the tunic up higher so he can get a good look at the panties peeking out from the tops of Az’s trousers. Red silk, trimmed with matching lace—Cas’s favorites.
“Did you like the surprise I packed for you, baby?” Cas asks, nudging Az up with one thigh so he can slip those pants down. Az complies readily, malleable under Cas’s touch, and it melts the General’s heart. He was worried that Az would be upset or embarrassed; the few other times they’ve been alone together have been rougher. Growling and fighting for dominance as their bullheaded Illyrian genes kicked in.
Not this time, though. This time, Az nods against Cas’s shoulder as the other male cups his hands beneath Az. The panties are cheekier on you, the soft flesh of your ass spills out the sides in such a beautiful way, but they hug Az’s pert, muscular cheeks perfectly, too.
Hey, princess, I have something to show you. Are you alone? Cas asks, opening up the bond to reach out to the third member of their Triad.
You’re back home, soaking in the tub after a grueling day of work. The clinic has been overloaded with refugees from Under the Mountain, mostly women and children, mostly victims of the tensions rising within the Court of Nightmares. That’s why you aren’t with your mates—Rhys couldn’t justify pulling you away from Madja to tag along on a routine, three-day reconnaissance mission.
You shift in the tub, lifting your hips and running a hand down your stomach, sending the image through to your mates. Excitement flares up between the three of you, and your effort is rewarded with a peek through Cassian’s eyes. The sight of Azriel on display in a pair of your panties sends heat to your core and you squirm, tucking your fingers down to graze against your clit.
Enjoying the view? Cas asks, chucking to himself as he feels your arousal pulsating down the bond. You answer with another image, this time one of your finger circling your hole, distorted by the water.
Az feels his skin heating up and turns slightly to bury his face in Cas’s hair.
“Aw, baby,” Cas coos, clutching Az closer. “Feeling shy?”
“No,” Az grumbles. “‘M just tired.” It’s true; Cas can feel Az’s weight pressing down on him as the Shadowsinger lets all the tension release from his body.
“That’s okay. I’ll take care of you, Azzie. You just gotta sit there and look pretty while we put on a show for our girl. Think you can do that for me?”
Cas bumps his nose against Az’s, then presses their lips together when the other male nods his assent. While Az is distracted, Cas tugs his vest all the way off and unbuttons his tunic, letting both fall to the floor. Then he helps Az clamber off his lap, swallowing his mate’s disgruntled huff as he maneuvers them both into a standing position so he can push Az’s pants all the way down. He has to pull away to shed his own clothes, which he does in record time, and then he settles back into the chair.
He takes a moment to appreciate the view in front of him; Az’s cock bulges, straining the thin fabric encasing it. Cas hooks his fingers into the lacy waistband, rubbing his thumb over the small bow that rests just above the wet spot where Az’s tip rests trapped against his stomach.
Through the bond, you can see everything, and the sight of Az tucked into a pair of your panties has you dipping two fingers into the wet heat of pussy.
Cas moves his thumb lower, pressing against the wet spot and coaxing a needy whine from Az.
“C’mere, baby,” Cas murmurs, “sit on my lap again.” Azriel obeys, turning around and lowering his ass until it rests against Cas’s bare cock. Reaching one hand down, Cas adjusts himself so his cock is pressed between the Shadowsinger’s thighs. He grabs Az’s waist and guides him into rocking back and forth, feeling the soft silk rubbing against his own rock-hard length. “That’s it, good boy, already so wet for me, aren’t you?”
Az whimpers, grinding down in search of more friction, and your walls tighten around your fingers.
Cas lets one of his hands drop down to palm Az’s clothed cock, feeling the fabric dampen even more beneath his touch. With the other, he slips beneath the silk to trace one finger around Az’s rim, slowly coaxing him open.
By this point Az is oozing precum, so it’s easy for Cassian to slide forward and collect some with his fingers, using it to help ease first one, then two, then three inside. Az squirms in Cas’s lap as his body opens up to accommodate the intrusion.
What do you think, sweetheart? Cas asks you through the bond. You think he’s ready for me?
Yes, you say, mental voice just as breathy as it would be if you were speaking out loud. Yes, he’s ready.
Cas senses your impending orgasm and waits, curling his fingers inside Az to make him whine.
Wait, love, he coos at you. Your hand stills, obeying his orders even from halfway across Prythian, but you can’t stop your thighs from quivering with the force of holding back the waves of pleasure building up inside you.
He knows what he’s doing and relishes in the satisfaction of being able to pull you back from the edge with just two words. Making sure the link is wide open so you can see it all, he uses two fingers to pull the panties aside and spread Az open.
Why don’t you go get one of your toys, princess, Cas tells you as he sinks his cock into your shared mate. Chest heaving, you push yourself up and clamber out of the tub on shaky legs. You swipe a towel off the rack on your way back into the bedroom and toss it down before you collapse into the plush mattress. Reaching over to the nightstand, you dig around in the drawer until your hand wraps around the smooth, flesh-like material.
You give Cas a glimpse through your eyes at the dildo as you slide it between your aching lips.
Good girl, he tells you, grunting as he picks up his pace, snapping his hips to fuck up into Az in deep, punishing strokes. Back in Velaris, you increase the speed of your hand, trying to match his.
Cas’s magic is soaring, bubbling up within him as he absorbs the raw, desperate need flowing into him from his mates. He tightens his grip on Az’s hips with one hand, nails biting into the Shadowsinger’s flesh just above the hem of his panties. The other slips around front to slide down Az’s abs and settles with a flat palm pressing against the soaking silk-covered bulge.
“Fuck, you’re both so wet for me, aren’t you?” He moans, squeezing Az’s length. Az bucks up, grinding against Cas’s touch in sloppy, desperate circles.
“Please, Cas, I need to—“ Az whines, moving one foot up to the edge of the chair to use as leverage, to get into the exact right position where he can feel Cas pressing against his prostate and Cas pressing against his cock, the delicious friction of damp fabric against sensitive skin…
Please, Cassie, you echo, shoving the dildo up until it bottoms out, your thumb pressing against your clit in just the right way…
Cas is close to bursting, but he pushes through the desire tugging all of the blood away from his head and into his cock. He pushes through the red hot flames circling his groin from the inside out enough to snarl, “Cum for me,” offering sweet release to his mates. The loves of his life.
He watches through your eyes as your pussy flutters around the dark pink toy, can feel wet heat filling the fabric beneath his hand as Az releases into those Cauldron-damned panties.
The General bows his head to his mates, hair cascading over one shoulder as he pulls Az flush to his chest. The Shadowsinger sighs; and it’s the sweetest goddamn thing Cas has ever heard.
He explodes. The force of his magic pulsing down the bond sends aftershocks straight to your core and you whimper, slowing but not stopping your thrusts.
Azriel sinks back against Cassian, boneless and spent, content to wait in the tight embrace of his mate until Cas’s thrusts slow to a stop.
It takes a while for Cas to come back after that. He just clings to Az, rests his head, chin hooked over one lean shoulder. You lay in bed, toy slipping out of your slickened hole, and muster enough energy to send a bit of shimmering, deep purple magic his way.
Cas feels it settle into his veins, and his breathing slows. He feels warm and sated and sticky but in a good way. Blinking eyes take in the sight of those panties, stained a shade darker than they’d been when Cassian saw them there, folded up in the laundry like that. Taunting him with the promise of shadows wrapped in red silk, tanned thighs trimmed with lace. Practically begging to be taken.
You owe me a new pair, Azzie. They can feel you pouting through the bond. Az chokes, sputtering against Cas until you put him out of his misery and coo, you look so pretty in those. I want you to keep them.
Smirking against Az’s shoulder, Cas sends a chuckle down the bond.
I’ll buy you a whole new drawerful, darling. He pauses and nips at the skin beneath his lip, picturing his mates wrapped up in new lingerie like pretty little gifts from his former self. One for each of you, if you want.
Taglist: @wallacewillow0773638 @hnyclover @anutellaa@morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog@queerqueenlynn@brujitafantomatico@nickishadow139@starcrossedsan@dustyinkpages @amberlynn98 @liquormoneysex @moonyscherry @shadowinthedarkknight @daisy94788
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bewitched | chapter 03
╰┈➤summary: Former neighbors turned lovers, your enchanting romance with Jungkook takes a magical turn. A spell to protect him shapes your past, and now, as a flower shop owner, an unexpected reunion brings buried secrets to light. Past and present collide in a captivating tale of love and mystery.
╰┈➤pairing: jungkook x reader (f)
╰┈➤genre: cf2l, fluff, angst, magic au
╰┈➤warnings: cursing, mention of porn, mention of role play, injuries, blood
word count. 13.5k
╰┈➤note; chapter three is out! thanks to all the people who have read my humble fic <3 hope you like!
prev | series masterlist | next
You, never one for large gatherings, typically stuck to intimate meetings with Jimin and Yoongi – essentially your family. Venturing into a gathering with more than two people was a rarity, and this particular meetup with Jimin and Jungkook's friends added an air of mystery. Unlike the previous occasion at Yoongi's house, where you were at least forewarned about the guest list, this time, it was a sea of unfamiliar faces.
In preparation, you deviated from your usual casual attire, opting for a relatively new and dark dress purchased for a more formal setting. The colors were a departure from your norm, but tonight called for a different vibe. Accompanying the dress were heeled sandals, adding a touch of sophistication to your ensemble.
Your usually understated makeup routine underwent a transformation. A light foundation and concealer camouflaged any signs of stress or fatigue. You experimented with a more vibrant eyeshadow, a departure from your usual natural tones, and applied a slightly brighter lipstick. It wasn't that you eschewed makeup, but your daily routine leaned towards a more natural look. Satisfied with the result, you flashed a confident smile in the mirror before leaving the bathroom.
As you headed toward the hallway to retrieve your sandals, you encountered Salem, the singing cat, belting out Selena's Amor Prohibido on the couch.
“Hey, Salem,” you called, catching his attention mid-song, “lower the volume, or Mrs. Hwang will be asking if I've acquired a singing boyfriend again.”
Salem ceased his performance with an indignant huff. “You're a buzzkill! It's not my fault your love life is practically nonexistent.”
"Okay, but always remember who's the one covering the costs of your streaming applications," you slyly hinted, adding a subtle threat. "Someday that card might just stop accepting charges, and poof! Goodbye, Jersey Shore."
Salem's expression turned horrified. "You can't!"
With a victorious smile, you replied, "Then consider toning it down a bit," playfully winking. Gathering your belongings and keys, you left your home, grateful that being late from work allowed you to decline Jiwoo and Jungkook's invitation to Yoongi's house.
The fact that they were your new neighbors still felt strange to you. After a leisurely 15-minute walk, you arrived in your friends' neighborhood. The cool summer afternoon made the journey pleasant, sparing you from getting hot or sweaty.
Before Yoongi got upset with you, he had shared the address of Jungkook's friend, conveniently located in the same neighborhood. Glancing at the message with the address, you began your search for the house. After a few minutes, you reached the supposed location based on the address—543.
Continuing a few more steps, you realized the house you sought was none other than the stunning one that had always caught your eye on your way to Yoongi's, leaving you in awe.
As you stood outside the house, a surge of surprise hit you briefly, but the appearance of Jimin's head through the home fence quickly dissolved the feeling.
“Daisy?” he called out, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and warmth. “Did you get here long ago? Sorry, we were in the backyard. Come in.”
Softly shaking your head, you replied, “No. Don't worry. I just got here.”
Jimin opened the gate, embracing you tightly. “I haven't seen you in so long!” he expressed emotionally.
Rubbing his back affectionately, a fleeting sense of guilt washed over you, but you pushed it aside. “I know. I'm glad to see you too,” you responded, releasing yourself from the warm embrace.
Jimin, sporting a wide smile, looped his arm through yours, guiding you through the enchanting garden towards a large wooden dividing gate adorned with vines.
“Almost everyone is here; only Nam is missing, but he told me he would arrive at fifteen,” Jimin informed you as you walked through the door, greeted by the enticing aroma of smoke and roast meat.
Observing your puzzled expression, Jimin apologized with a smile. “Namjoon is an older friend of ours; we met him at university. He's very intellectual.”
You smiled shyly, internally noting another friend to get acquainted with.
The blend of music from speakers and the rising murmur of conversations welcomed you as you approached the gathering area. A sprawling pool caught your eye, surrounded by plastic chairs for drying off.
Behind the pool, a substantial grill sizzled with roasting meat. Jungkook and Yoongi, each holding beers, engaged in conversation behind the grill.
Jungkook noticed you first. “Daisy! You made it!” he exclaimed, his joy evident.
Your smile was tinged with awkwardness, especially when you caught the expressionless gaze of your best friend, Yoongi. Reluctantly, you knew you couldn't avoid him forever.
Summoning your courage, you let Jimin guide you towards them. Jungkook was quick to step out from behind the grill, offering a warm hug. You reciprocated shyly, sensing Yoongi's watchful eyes on both of you.
Jungkook released you, and you took a hesitant step toward Yoongi. He casually ruffled your hair. “You're late.”
Sensing a subtle tension in the air, Jimin decided to break the silence. “Daisy, what are you serving? We have alcohol, but I know you don't like to drink, so I brought a natural fruit juice, your favorite,” he said with confidence, winking at you.
Grateful for the intervention, you smiled and accepted the juice. Jimin went inside the house, leaving you alone with Jungkook and Yoongi. The latter avoided meeting your gaze, scanning the surroundings instead.
Jungkook, oblivious to the unspoken tension, turned to you with curiosity. “Don't you like alcohol?” he asked, widening his eyes playfully.
You shook your head, a slight grimace appearing as memories resurfaced. The last time you got drunk at 19 was etched vividly in your mind. It was Jungkook's birthday, and you saw a photo of him celebrating with friends on social media. What hurt wasn't the celebration, but the pretty girl holding onto his arm, leaving lipstick marks on his neck.
A few bottles of wine and whiskey later, you found yourself crying in a public bathroom. Even the other girls in line, focused on their makeup, couldn't offer solace. Yet, the worst part came when your drunken self spent all your coins on a public phone, attempting to dial Jungkook's number. Fortunately or unfortunately, the number no longer existed.
You woke up the next morning with Salem's tail in your face, a terrible hangover, and a resolution never to drink again. For that reason, Jungkook didn't need to know the rest, so you simply replied, “No. I don't have good experiences with alcohol, and I have terrible resistance.”
Jungkook nodded thoughtfully, his understanding gaze reflecting a shared sentiment. “I get it. You should've seen Jimin the first few times he tried to get drunk in college. It was a total disaster.”
You smiled at that. Over these five years of friendship, you've had the pleasure of seeing Jimin drunk more than once, and it was always a spectacle to remember.
Wanting to delve into conversation with Jungkook, you considered asking about his evolving relationship with alcohol, his vibrant college experiences, the story of meeting Jimin, or even if he missed the simplicity of your small town after embracing the challenges of the big city for his dreams. Yet, you restrained yourself, acutely aware that Jungkook wasn't just a friend anymore. The choice to sever that bond was yours, made in consideration of both your well-being, especially with Yoongi's scrutinizing gaze in the mix right now.
Above all, there was the undeniable truth that you were still emotionally vulnerable when it came to Jeon Jungkook.
Safeguarding your heart and emotions, you let out a soft laugh. Fate, it seemed, decided to intervene, breaking the awkward silence as a figure appeared through a sliding window that overlooked the backyard.
“Jungkookie, you're a lucky bastard!” a robust, masculine voice exclaimed, approaching the trio.
As the newcomer closed the gap, his features became clearer. Thick lips, adorned with a mischievous smile, dark and attractive eyes—none other than Kim Taehyung, your childhood friend and a long-time best friend of Jungkook.
Grateful for Taehyung's attention being on Jungkook, you concealed your surprise, though Yoongi's keen eyes caught your reaction.
Upon reaching your side, Taehyung directed his penetrating gaze toward you. “But what do we have here?” he inquired with an oddly seductive tone. “Is this the sweet friend that you and Jimin kept hidden from me for so long?” he asked Yoongi, who simply shrugged.
Before you could offer a greeting, Taehyung closed the distance, almost breaching your comfort zone. His proximity, the dark intensity of his gaze, and the alluring scent that surrounded you made you nervous—something you chided yourself for since this was Kim Taehyung, your childhood friend who would do silly things to make you laugh.
“Daisy, dear Daisy,” he said huskily. “I've heard a lot about you, and let me tell you, the expectations were high. Seeing you here in front of me, I can say they've been more than met.”
Taehyung flashed a mischievous smile, noticing your stillness. You couldn't help but wonder when Kim Taehyung became so strikingly handsome.
Your interaction with Taehyung was interrupted as a female voice, unnoticed until now, spoke from behind him. “It’s you!” The moment Jiwoo's voice registered, you recognized it. In a matter of seconds, she enveloped you in a warm hug, her sweet and feminine perfume lingering in the air.
Expressing her joy, Jiwoo continued to embrace you. Taller than you, she had your face pressed against her chest, making any attempt to respond futile. Jungkook's melodic voice intervened, “Mmm Babe? I think Daisy can't breathe.” Jiwoo, surprised, released you with a yelp, wearing an apologetic expression.
“I'm sorry. It's just that you're so cute, and it makes me want to hug you,” she confessed, casting an apologetic look your way. You smiled awkwardly, aware of the curious gazes from the four present.
“It's nice to see you again,” you managed to say a bit nervously. Jiwoo, still beaming, took your arm, turning to the three men who were still recovering from the surprise. “I'm sorry, guys, but I'm taking this pretty girl.”
As Jiwoo guided you to seats away from the men, their voices lingered in the background. Taehyung commented, "I think she's happy to have a girl in the group," and Jungkook added, "I know, although I feel sorry for poor Daisy."
Unaware of their discussion, Jiwoo led you happily until you both settled into comfortable seats. “I'm so happy. I've never had a female partner in these meetings before,” Jiwoo shared, intertwining her fingers with yours. It became apparent that she had a penchant for physical contact, always eager to embrace or touch those around her.
You settled into a more comfortable smile, relieved to escape the intense gazes of Yoongi, Jungkook, and Taehyung. Free from the scrutiny, you asked curiously, “Aren't there any other girls in your group?” Admittedly, you were unfamiliar with Jimin's friends until this moment.
Jiwoo smiled sadly, “No. At least not since I started dating Kookie.” She elaborated, “There's Nam's girlfriend, but she's on exchange overseas, so it was just me.” The revelation surprised you a bit, considering Jimin and Jungkook's apparent ease in befriending women.
“But hey, you're here, and that's the important thing. I can't believe Jimin kept you hidden from us for so long,” she pouted. You nodded, realizing you were oblivious to their existence and their relationships with your friends.
Oddly enough, you found Jiwoo to be surprisingly good company. While her initial intensity might have come across as intrusive, spending time with her revealed her genuine desire for friendship. Surprisingly, you noticed that an hour had passed since you joined the friends' gathering, and the idea of escaping hadn't crossed your mind – a positive surprise.
During this time, you had the chance to meet Namjoon, who arrived half an hour after you. To your amazement, Jimin's description of him was accurate – a deep, erudite tone accompanied by kind and cordial demeanor. Engaging in conversation with Namjoon was surprisingly harmonious.
After a satisfying meal, the group settled into wooden chairs arranged in a circle on the grass, courtesy of Taehyung. With a mischievous smile, he positioned himself next to Jimin, proudly displaying a bottle of alcohol. “Okay, guys. This is my favorite moment. I have never ever…” he trailed off, and you silently cursed in your mind as you found yourself seated between Namjoon and Jiwoo.
Aware of the impending game, one you had heard of but never played, you hesitated. Yet, the infectious enthusiasm and happy looks of the others led you to resign. Taehyung passed the bottle of alcohol to Jimin, who then proceeded to pour drinks into glasses. Once ready, Taehyung looked around and posed the question, “Okay, who starts?” Despite your reluctance, the lively atmosphere compelled you to join in the game, albeit with a mix of anticipation and apprehension.
All eyes shifted toward you, a predictable focus given your status as the ‘Stranger’ in the group. Resigned to your fate, you offered with a sigh, “I guess it's me?”
Taehyung and Jimin exchanged evil smiles that sent a shiver down your spine. It was peculiar how these two seemed to be in perfect sync with each other.
“Okay, our rookie will start,” Taehyung teased, raising an eyebrow at you. “Go ahead, Dear Daisy!”
Facing the challenge, you mentally searched for a suitable revelation. Admittedly, your adolescence and youth weren't exactly wild, at least not by the standards of those around you. Drawing inspiration from reality shows you'd seen, you cautiously uttered, “I've never, ever been to a nude beach.”
A collective surprise swept across the faces of your friends, as they anticipated a more ‘appropriate’ admission. However, Jimin and Taehyung burst into happy laughter, promptly taking sips from their glasses. To your amazement, Jungkook and Yoongi also raised their glasses in response.
Intrigued, you momentarily forgot about your recent disagreement with Yoongi. Locking eyes with him, you raised an eyebrow, silently asking why he never mentioned such an adventurous experience. Unfazed, your friend just shrugged, a gesture that reminding you that you are not the only one with secrets.
Irritated, you waited for the others to continue, and now it was Namjoon's turn on your right. The boy with long dark hair let out a tired sigh, as if finding this whole ordeal quite dull. He remained still for a moment, appearing deep in thought.
Then, with a hoarse and exhausted voice, he declared, “Never have I ever watched porn.” You couldn't help but smile at the predictability of such a question in this game.
“Oh, come on, Nam!” Taehyung exclaimed, “As if that's not something everyone has done. Ask something spicier!”
To silence Taehyung, Namjoon sighed again and stated, “I have never ever seen gay porn. Taehyung laughed and took a sip, joined by Jimin and Yoongi. Unfortunately, you also took a sip, your accidental encounter with explicit content having occurred when you borrowed Jimin's computer for a seemingly innocent task.
Jimin playfully looked at Taehyung. “I understand Yoongi and me. But what were you doing watching gay porn, Tae?”
Taehyung defended himself, “Why are you questioning me? Sweet, innocent Daisy had a drink too!” The surprise in the room was palpable; even Nam raised his eyebrows.
Frustrated and embarrassed, you quickly explained, “It was a mistake, and it was Jimin's fault.”
Taehyung then gave Jimin a strange look. “How did you corrupt her mind?”
Jimin grinned mischievously at you, and you raised an eyebrow. “Poor Daisy took my computer at a bad time,” he simply explained, leading Taehyung to burst into laughter.
“Jimin!” Jiwoo exclaimed next to you. “How can you leave porn open on your computer? That's disgusting.”
Jimin chuckled. “Oh, come on, Jiji. You should ask your fiancé those questions. God knows how many times I caught things on his computer in college.”
Now, it was Jungkook's turn to chime in. “Why are you bringing me into your conflict?!” he said with a red face. “It was only twice, and it was when we were freshmen!” The room erupted in laughter, the tension diffusing into playful banter among friends.
After enduring a few rounds of somewhat absurd and repetitive questions, it was Taehyung's turn again. His mischievous look sent a shiver down your spine, giving you a bad feeling.
“Never have I ever engaged in role-playing in the bedroom,” he declared with that characteristic mischief. Taehyung, not surprisingly, took a drink and then looked at everyone with a challenging grin. “Oh, come on! What are you waiting for? I know that half of us here are into kinky shit!”
Yoongi chuckled and took a sip, and so did Jimin. Accidentally locking eyes with Jungkook, you both found yourselves taking a sip simultaneously. Jungkook gave you a sly wink. Oddly, Jiwoo hadn't taken a sip.
The truth dawned on you that you and Jungkook, during your past relationship, did attempt an embarrassing and awkward venture into role-playing. However, Jungkook taking a sip now indicated it wasn't with you, and apparently not with Jiwoo by his side either.
It was moments like these that made you acutely aware of the passage of time. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy in your stomach—an emotion you knew you had no right to harbor. Despite understanding this, the fact that Jungkook had moved on with his life and embraced experiences normal for his age, just not with you, stung deeply.
You mentally berated yourself, urging to shake off the feeling. ‘Enough of this,’you thought, refocusing on the group. Jungkook took the lead, suggesting a change in the topic. “Time for something more fitting,” he declared, glancing at Taehyung. “Never have I ever had a paranormal experience.”
You tensed slightly, but seeing others casually drink, you followed suit, reminding yourself it's a common occurrence. ‘It's a common thing,’ you told yourself reassuringly, "it's not like they were harassed by dead people all the time like you. Surely they saw a shadow or door open by itself, and that would be… right?
Jimin eagerly exclaimed, “I need those stories,” while Jiwoo, clearly scared, covered her ears, protesting, “Don't even think about it!”
Taehyung grinned mischievously, teasing Jiwoo. “Oh Jiji, don't be like that. Ghost stories are the best, especially for a night with friends.” Yoongi chimed in confidently, “I'm sure my story beats all of yours!” Jiwoo, annoyed, retorted, “Not you too!” crossing her arms.
You offered her a comforting smile, feeling a bit out of place. while Taehyung looked like he was saying something to Jungkook, who opened his eyes in surprise.
Jimin, visibly impatient, reached out and touched Taehyung's arm. “Oh, come on! I want to know too!” he urged eagerly.
Namjoon intervened, sensing Jiwoo's discomfort. “Jimin, Jiwoo is clearly feeling uneasy. Let's not push her,” he admonished gently.
Jiwoo, though clearly stressed, attempted to brush off her discomfort as she observed the excitement of the others. “It's okay,” she reassured them. “I know how much you all love discussing these things. I'll just go inside and make some tea.”
Jungkook seemed inclined to stop her, but Jiwoo waved him off with a small smile. “Really, it's fine,” she whispered softly before heading indoors.
You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Jiwoo. In the time you had spent with her and her boyfriend's group of friends, you had noticed a stark contrast in their dynamics. While they were boisterous and enjoyed teasing each other, they often unintentionally excluded Jiwoo from their conversations. They delved into topics she either didn't understand or didn't care for, leaving her on the sidelines.
You were about to step in, but Namjoon grabbed your hand, halting you. “Let me handle this. Jiwoo hates it when people pity her, and honestly, I'm not into this conversation either,” he said quietly.
You recalled that Namjoon and Jiwoo were childhood friends; their families were close, and they grew up attending the same schools and universities, both coming from affluent backgrounds. That's why Namjoon had a soft spot for her. And from what you'd heard, thanks to Namjoon, Jiwoo met Jungkook.
The two of them walked away, leaving behind a tense atmosphere. Jimin let out a sigh of apology. “I'm sorry, I was an idiot,” and everyone nodded.
Jimin punched Taehyung (who also nodded). “You're part of the problem too!”
A few minutes passed after Namjoon and Jiwoo left, with Taehyung returning from inside with a bottle of whisky and ice. Despite trying to stay glued to your seat, nerves still gripped you, causing subtle tremors. Jungkook, who was nearby, mistook your trembling for cold and began to remove his jacket to offer it to you. However, before he could act, Taehyung beat him to it, draping his expensive-looking dark jacket over your shoulders and adjusting it with a smile that made his eyes disappear. "You looked like you were cold," he remarked, his expression warm.
Grateful for the gesture, you nodded, while beside you, Jungkook settled back into his chair. You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as you noticed his pouting expression and slumped shoulders, realizing he had wanted to offer his jacket first and now felt embarrassed by the mix-up.
The good thing was that neither Yoongi nor Jimin seemed to notice the scene, as they were engrossed in their own conversation.
"Well!" Taehyung called for attention, tapping a button on his phone to dim the lights in the backyard where you were gathered. "Damn, like you have to scrub your money," Yoongi playfully cursed.
Taehyung shrugged off the comment and straightened up in his chair, his gaze sweeping over the group as if building suspense. "Well, as you know, aside from being a talented and successful businessman, I'm also a fan of the paranormal!" he announced. "A hobby that I've cultivated since childhood, but which became more formal during my university years."
You remembered that Taehyung had been the president of a paranormal club during your childhood and teenage years, a fact you had forgotten to mention earlier. It seemed that his interest in the supernatural had persisted, as he now spoke about his more formal group dedicated to investigating paranormal phenomena across the country.
"Well, a while ago—when you were traveling," Taehyung said, glancing at Jungkook before continuing, "we heard about an abandoned hospital on the outskirts of the city that used to attract students and mischievous children looking for scary thrills."
"When we went—naturally, it was nighttime—we discovered that the place had been recently closed off by the police after a couple of teenagers were injured trying to get in," Taehyung recounted, his tone solemn.
"We did some research," he continued, lowering his head slightly to address the group, "and apparently, you can hear the cries of a woman at night emanating from those walls, particularly in the maternity area, according to some accounts we found online."
Yoongi snorted derisively. "Are you seriously telling me you believe what people say on the internet?"
Taehyung raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes they speak the truth. Now, let me finish," he insisted, eager to continue his story.
"Well, as I mentioned, we arrived at the hospital at night, and thanks to the skills of my friends, we managed to enter," Taehyung continued, his tone growing more intense. "At first, I thought it might be a hoax because we had set up cameras and nothing had happened. But it was when we were about to leave, around 3 in the morning, that we heard it."
"I initially thought it was Woo playing a prank on us," Taehyung recounted, his expression tense with the memory. "But to our surprise, Woo was just as startled as the rest of us. As we approached the source of the sound, the cries of the woman became clearer. However, our luck took a turn for the worse as we ended up getting lost."
"While we were attempting to capture something on camera, it failed us," Taehyung explained, frustration evident in his voice. "The images came out distorted, leaving us with nothing but blurry footage."
Turning to Jungkook, Taehyung remarked, "It was reminiscent of the incident we experienced the summer after we graduated from school."
Your head shot up at the mention of summer after high school graduation, your senses instantly on high alert. It was a time when you were no longer present, nearly a year later.
Jungkook nodded knowingly. "Yeah, the time we got lost in the enchanted forest."
Your heart sank as you sat there, feeling a wave of horror wash over you. You knew exactly which forest they were referring to. The "enchanted forest" had a name, though it was seldom spoken aloud.
From a young age, your aunts had strictly forbidden you from venturing into that forest without supervision, warning of an ominous presence lurking within—an evil door, they called it. You had heeded their warnings and never dared to explore it alone. The one time you did, at the age of eight, had been enough to instill a lasting fear, ensuring you never returned.
Nineteen years ago
It was Taehyung's fault, who had discovered a fascination with the paranormal.
Devising the cover of a sleepover at Jungkook's, you and him executed a quiet exit through his window. United, you seamlessly blended into Taehyung's group at a prearranged street corner, setting the scene for a discreet nocturnal adventure.
Initially fueled by the thrill of defying your aunts' restrictions, your childlike excitement overshadowed the potential danger ahead.
Hand in hand with Jungkook, you followed Taehyung into the forest, the first hour passing without incident. A lurking fear of ghosts lingered in your mind, but Jungkook's reassuring presence provided a sense of security. However, as the group ventured deeper, the atmosphere shifted.
After realizing you were walking in circles, a wave of unease swept over you. Panic set in as you urged Jungkook to turn back, sensing an impending danger. The forest's depths became an ominous maze, and your instincts screamed that something sinister awaited.
Your face etched with fear, Jungkook, sensing your distress, swiftly halted the group. However, Taehyung, driven by a mixture of disappointment at the lack of action and a refusal to succumb to fear, dismissed your concerns, leading his friends deeper into the unknown.
Despite your desperate attempts to convey the potential danger, their determination to prove their bravery drowned out your warnings. The group pressed on until you reached the ominous site of the old mine, sealed off for years after a tragic accident claimed multiple lives.
Your instincts, now in full alert mode, screamed at you as the atmosphere grew heavier. Panicking, you implored the others to leave, but Taehyung's friends scoffed at your fear, brushing it off with laughter. Jungkook, unable to tolerate their mockery, launched himself at them, fueled by a strength that belied his eight-year-old frame. Your attempts to restrain him proved futile in the face of his resolute protectiveness.
Desperation compelled you to break the forbidden rule, tapping into your magical abilities as a last resort. With a snap of your fingers, Taehyung's friends crumpled to the ground, unconscious, leaving only Tae conscious and bewildered.
Before you could offer an explanation, an unnatural sound reverberated through the mine entrance, injecting urgency into the air. Panic seized you, and all you could do was urgently yell at them to run. Swiftly, the two boys scooped up the unconscious friends, and together, you sprinted away.
Yet, an unseen force, faster and more sinister, latched onto Tae's legs, causing him to stumble. Ignoring Jungkook's pleas to keep running, you halted, driven by an instinct to help your friend. Drawing upon Aunt Yoon's defense lessons, you harnessed the earth's moisture to ensnare the dark specter attempting to seize Taehyung.
With a surge of power, you separated the creature from your friend, creating a protective barrier that enveloped both you and Jungkook. The ethereal shield shielded you from the pursuing threat, allowing a moment to catch your breath amidst the chaos.
Taehyung's face cycled through stages of fear and surprise as the creature charged at the magical barrier, violently shaking it. Before he could articulate his thoughts, the forceful impact of the entity disrupted the tense moment.
Jungkook, torn between rage and terror, approached you after leaving the unconscious boys on the ground. The creature struck the barrier once more before he could speak, intensifying the urgency of the situation.
Realizing the need to act swiftly, you turned to the two boys. "We have to go. I can't maintain the barrier for long." Contemplating an escape plan, you devised a quick strategy.
Crouching down, you coated yourself in mud, prompting bewildered gazes from Jungkook and Taehyung. "Mud. Cover yourselves. It'll make it harder for the creature to track us." Following your lead, Jungkook and Taehyung hastily covered themselves in mud, then proceeded to cloak the other unconscious boys. The improvised camouflage became a shield against the relentless pursuit, offering a slim chance to evade the looming threat.
"I'll drop the barrier and try to cover that thing with it," you announced, the urgency evident in your voice. "But you guys have to be quick and run toward the forest exit. I'll try to hold it off as much as I can."
Taehyung vehemently protested, but it was Jungkook who seized your arm, his eyes filled with anger. "You're crazy if you think I'll leave you behind."
Frustration etched across your face as you retorted, "Well, yes, I am! But if we don't do something, we will all die!" The creature relentlessly climbed the barrier, striking it with increasing force, creating small cracks.
Desperation mounted, and you cast a pleading gaze at Jungkook, who maintained a dark and resolute stare. "Okay," he conceded, "then you and I will stay, and Tae escapes with the others."
Indignation flashed in your widened eyes. "What?! No! You have to go with them." The barrier, showing signs of imminent collapse, intensified the urgency.
You desperately gripped both boys' arms and shook them. "You have to leave now! I can't hold it back for long! Please," you pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes. Jungkook continued to resist, and you turned to Taehyung, desperation evident. "Taehyung, please! Take him."
Taehyung found himself torn between refusing and staying with you, all while witnessing Jungkook's insistence and your distressed state. The dilemma hung in the air, leaving the trio caught in the midst of an impending danger.
With determination in his eyes, Taehyung looked at you.Taehyung met your gaze. "Can you stop that thing for a little while? At least to leave these," he pointed to his friends, "in a safe area." You nodded in agreement, prompting Jungkook to unleash a string of curses directed at Taehyung. He seized Tae's shirt collar, vehemently refusing to abandon you.
Taehyung, leveraging his age advantage, freed himself and tightly gripped Jungkook's arm. "Yes, I know! We won't leave her! But we won't escape with a load. We have to leave them and then come back for Daisy!" Tae declared, hoisting one of his friends onto his back while dragging the other toward the edge of the barrier.
Witnessing Jungkook's hesitancy, Taehyung pleaded, "Please! If you help me, the faster we can get back for Daisy!" Despite Taehyung's impassioned plea, Jungkook remained rooted in indecision. Sensing the urgency, you called out from behind, "Kook, please! I'll be fine! I can protect myself!"
In a fierce display of frustration and concern, Jungkook pointed a commanding finger at you. "You better be alive when I come back for you. I swear I won't forgive you if something happens to you and I'll do everything to bring you back to life. You hear me?"
Frantically nodding, you reassured, "I promise." Jungkook insisted further, "Promise. Make a pact, promise me you'll stay alive!" Determined, he bit his finger, drawing a drop of blood, and pressed his thumb firmly toward you.
Matching his determination, you mirrored the action, declaring, "I promise!" Both thumbs pressed together with a symbolic pact sealed in blood. Jungkook then shifted his attention, setting down the unconscious boy and approaching Taehyung.
"Good. I'll do it in 3, then you must run as far as you can!" you screamed. As the countdown reached its end, you removed the barrier and swiftly replaced it, enclosing the creature within.
Jungkook cast one last intense look at you before bolting after Taehyung, who had already begun his escape. The strain on your extremities grew palpable, a testament to the tension and force required to control the unfolding situation. Alone with the encroaching danger, you prepared for the inevitable confrontation with the creature.
The specter relentlessly fought against the barrier, striking every available space to break free, but its efforts proved futile. You meticulously counted the seconds in your head, taking a deep breath to compose yourself. With your free hand, you played with the wet dirt and mud, attempting to ensnare the elusive specter within the confines of the barrier. The creature's erratic movements posed a considerable challenge.
Around half a minute into the struggle, you sensed something warm trickling down your nose. As it reached your mouth, the realization hit – it was blood. A wave of concern washed over you, recalling how, in your lessons, bleeding often led to a gradual loss of energy, eventually culminating in unconsciousness. This time, you fought against the encroaching weakness, acutely aware that not just your life but others' depended on your resilience.
The creature, realizing its futile attempts to escape, unleashed a horrific howl, a sound so piercing that it reverberated through your head. Tears of pain escaped your eyes, but you maintained your stance. The strain, however, began to take its toll. Your legs wavered, feeling as though they were on the brink of collapse.
Undaunted, you summoned the last remnants of your energy to ensnare the creature in the mud. Driven by sheer determination, you successfully immobilized it—a fleeting triumph amid the relentless physical and mental strain.
With the creature temporarily subdued, you hastily released the barrier and raced in the direction your friends had fled. Inhuman screams pursued you, each step a desperate bid for escape as branches and leaves collided with your frantic sprint.
Despite the burning sensation in your lungs, you pressed forward until a concealed root of an ancient tree sent you sprawling into the mud. A sharp cry of pain escaped as your arm, the unfortunate cushion of your fall, bent unnaturally.
Struggling to rise on the slippery ground, your desperation intensified as the unearthly screams drew nearer. You attempted to crawl, but exhaustion overwhelmed you, and you crumbled to the ground, drained by the expenditure of your magical energy.
In the obscurity, a chorus of desperate footsteps approached, and then the cry of "Daisy!" rang out. The shadows revealed the terror in Jungkook's eyes as, without hesitation, he sprinted towards you. The night cloaked you both in uncertainty, but his unwavering determination to reach you cut through the darkness.
Jungkook swiftly took hold of your good arm, lifting you from the muddy ground. His eyes scanned your face with concern as he asked with a fearful tone, "Can you run?" Tearfully, you shook your head, signaling your incapacity.
Without hesitation, Jungkook turned around, gesturing to his back. "Come on, Daisy! Come up!" Struggling, you climbed onto his back, clinging tightly to his neck. Jungkook, relying on his athleticism, dashed forward, providing a sense of relief in the midst of the dire situation.
With a voice trembling from weakness, you inquired, "Tae and the others?" Jungkook, not verbally responding, simply nodded, conveying both understanding and concern.
Behind you, the forceful movement of branches and the chilling screams grew closer. Though drained of strength, you made an effort to move tree roots and clear some branches, buying precious seconds against the pursuing creatures. "We're almost there, Daisy!" Jungkook breathed out a tired sigh.
However, just as you approached the river, marking the boundary between the forest and the city, a claw snatched your dangling, broken arm. It yanked you off balance, sending you crashing to the ground, shattering the fleeting hope of escape.
You screamed in pain as you felt your broken arm being pulled and your skin covered in claw wounds.
Jungkook stopped and shouted, coming for you.
The creature that had knocked you to the ground lunged at you, but you kicked it off and threw yourself backwards.
Jungkook picked you up but the creature quickly jumped back to you, knocking you to the ground.
Now that you had it so close to your face, you could see in detail what seemed to be its face, a kind of dark void but with a mouth with large fangs that were centimeters from your face.
With desperate force, you grapple with the creature, utilizing your legs and your one functional arm as a barrier, but your efforts are fleeting as you sense the creature being forcefully flung aside. In the chaos, Jungkook charges forward, his voice piercing the air, urging you to flee. However, despite the searing pain coursing through your body, the thought of leaving Jungkook behind is unbearable.
Then, as if a distant echo, a piece of advice from your Aunt Binna surfaces in your mind—a whispered secret shared during moments of fear and peril. She had spoken of your father's necklace, imbued with protective intentions. Though you had often disregarded its significance, the mere touch of the pendant had provided solace during restless nights plagued by nightmares.
Frantically, you grasp at your neck, feeling the familiar weight of the necklace. With a sudden burst of determination, you seize the pendant, memories flooding back as you hastily remove it from your neck. Clutching it tightly in your hand, you recall the faint whispers of a protective spell, a safeguard against encroaching darkness.
With trembling fingers, you invoke the incantation, willing the pendant to emit a radiant light. In a blinding flash, the ruby at its center ignites, casting a brilliant fiery glow. The intensity of the light sears your palm, causing you to involuntarily recoil, and in your panic, the necklace slips from your grasp, clattering to the ground.
But even as the pendant falls, its luminous aura persists, illuminating the darkness and momentarily halting the advance of the menacing creature.
As the creature savagely attacked Jungkook, tearing into his belly, your scream of horror echoed alongside his agonizing cry. Fueled by a potent mix of confidence, adrenaline, and fury, you seized the blazing necklace, feeling its fiery power pulsate beneath your fingertips.
With a newfound determination, you channeled the light, harnessing the necklace's amplifying abilities to magnify the radiance within you. The once-dim glow now surged forth from your palms, expanding into a brilliant wave of luminance that engulfed the creature in searing agony. Your own screams mingled with those of the beast, fueled by pain, fear, and a righteous anger that intensified the onslaught of light.
As the radiant beams pierced through the creature, it writhed in a futile attempt to escape the relentless assault, but the brilliance consumed it, melting away its form until it detonated in a final, blinding explosion of light. With the creature vanquished, you released your hold on the power, allowing the forest to once again succumb to darkness and chill.
Summoning your strength, you struggled to rise, your body trembling from the exertion. With each step towards Jungkook, the weight of your injuries bore down upon you, until finally, your legs gave way, sending you crashing to the unforgiving ground. Despite your own pain, your instinct to reach out to your friend persisted, driving you onward despite the overwhelming exhaustion that threatened to consume you.
With a guttural howl of agony, you dragged yourself across the frigid, grimy floor, caked in mud and tangled grass, until you reached Jungkook's side. He writhed in torment, one hand pressed tightly against his abdomen as screams escaped his lips. Collapsing beside him, your own body throbbing with pain, you gazed at him through blurred vision. His eyelids fluttered, struggling to remain open, as he reached out to touch your face with trembling fingers. With a grunt of agony, you inched closer, allowing Jungkook's icy touch to graze your skin.
"Daisy," he whispered hoarsely, the sound barely audible over the din of suffering.
You watched him intently, battling against the encroaching darkness threatening to pull you under. Jungkook's eyes remained fixed on you, despite their heavy lids, as if he harbored a desperate message he couldn't convey through the haze of pain and exhaustion. Tears welled in your eyes as you reached out with your uninjured hand, gently guiding his trembling hand from his abdomen to rest atop yours.
The fog of blood loss and anguish clouded your thoughts, but one desire burned fiercely within you: to be close to him, even in this final moment. As darkness encroached and consciousness slipped away, your last coherent memory was of Jungkook's face, his touch upon your skin, and your intertwined hands resting upon his wounded abdomen.
Chills coursed through your body as the haunting memory flooded back into your mind. "It was absolutely terrifying, do you remember?" Taehyung remarked, his voice laden with a hint of unease. "I never thought we'd find our way out of that forest. It's so eerie." But it became evident that their recollection of the event differed vastly from yours. The spell had erased the memory of that night from Taehyung and Jungkook's minds, leaving only the narrative they were discussing at present.
Jungkook nodded solemnly. "Going there while completely intoxicated was a terrible decision. We weren't the only ones who got lost there." Taehyung leaned back in his seat, his expression troubled. "I remember. Neighbor Park's daughter disappeared there and was never found." The mention of Neighbor Park, a kind and welcoming woman, hit you hard. You hadn't known about her daughter's disappearance. A lump formed in your throat as the grim reality settled in – she would never see her daughter again.
Taehyung clapped his hands together, breaking the heavy silence. "Anyway, what I wanted to say is, when we lost the camera and the lights, we heard her. The woman."
Yoongi snorted but remained silent. Taehyung persisted, "I swear on the most precious thing in my life, Yeontan, that I saw her. She was leaning against a wall, her clothes drenched."
Jimin chuckled, "Cut it out, Tae. No need to make up stories."
Jungkook joined in, laughing, while the dark-haired boy grew visibly irritated. "I'm not making this up, Jimin! I saw her!"
Jimin rolled his eyes playfully. "Sure, Tae. Whatever you say."
Taehyung was seething now. "Jungkook, you fixed the camera. There was a blurry figure in one of the photos. Don't make me out to be a liar!"
Jungkook shrugged. "Tae, I warned you it could've been a lens glitch. I never confirmed anyone was there."
Frustrated, Taehyung exclaimed, "Come on! You have to believe me!"
Yoongi, taking a sip from his glass, chimed in sarcastically, "Oh, come on, Tae! Admit it, your paranormal club is just a sham."
Taehyung stood up abruptly. "You guys just don't get it. I'm done talking about this with you ignorant lot!"
You couldn't help but laugh, covering your mouth. Taehyung looked at you as if betrayed, "Even you, Daisy?"
You shrugged your shoulders, unlike everyone present, you knew the paranormal very well. Yoongi let out a dry laugh. "Don't worry Tae, she believes in that nonsense too!" You opened your eyes surprised. You had mentioned some supernatural experiences to Yoongi before, usually under the influence of alcohol. Before you could defend yourself, Taehyung jumped in. "No way! Seriously?!" But seeing his handsome face so excited, you couldn't refuse. You still remembered how Taehyung would get enthusiastic about these things. He sat next to you, on Jiwoo's chair, and took your hands, eager to hear more. You noticed how his hands were still much bigger than yours, slightly tanned too.
"Tell me!" Taehyung exclaimed. "What paranormal experience do you have?!" You clung to your seat, contemplating your options. Should you fabricate a lie to satisfy his curiosity, or should you be honest and share a true story? Tired of deception, you chose the latter.
Casually, you began to recount a story that, while not explicitly supernatural, still held an eerie quality. It was about the time you encountered the ghostly apparition of an old man on a train platform. You described how you initially saw him waiting on the platform, only for him to inexplicably appear on the tracks as the train passed by. Yet, to your astonishment, he vanished without a trace.
Though mundane compared to your other experiences, it still captivated Taehyung's attention, evident in the starry-eyed gaze he fixed upon you. "That's incredible! Did anyone else notice?!" he inquired eagerly.
"I think so," you replied. "A girl who was standing next to me screamed when she witnessed him leap onto the tracks. But like me, she realized there was no one there afterward." You resolved his inquiry, leaving the details of your otherworldly encounters unspoken.
Taehyung settled into his chair, his mind clearly racing with thoughts. "It reminds me of the story of the schoolboy on the roads! Damn, I wonder if there are cameras that capture those moments," he mused, absentmindedly stroking his chin. As Taehyung continued to delve into the topic, the others exchanged knowing looks, indicating that this wasn't the first time such discussions had occurred.
You caught Jungkook's gaze, and he offered you a comforting smile, which you gratefully returned.
You inwardly welcomed the change of subject once Jiwoo and Namjoon returned, but unfortunately, the conversation now shifted to a trip among friends to go camping.
You tried to shrink in your seat and avoid drawing attention to yourself, but that was impossible once Taehyung looked at you with a smile.
"I hope that you, lovely Daisy, will go with us," Taehyung blurted out, and Jimin quickly perked up at this. "That's right! Daisy loves camping. We've been to the lake outside of town several times, haven't we?" Your friend smiled at you expectantly.
You forced a smile. It was true that you liked camping, but only for the reason that you felt closer to nature, plus you went with your best friends. But at this moment, not only the three of you were going, but the others, especially the person you wanted to avoid the most.
"It'll be fun, won't it?" For the first time that night, Yoongi referred to you. You stared into his dark eyes, which held ulterior motives. He raised his eyebrows, and you swallowed nervously.
You knew Yoongi was still upset and was waiting for explanations. What better way to test yourself than spending a weekend with the person who is the cause of your secrecy?
You decided to put on your big girl pants and smile widely. "Of course. We love camping with friends, don't we, Yoongs?"
Yoongi, annoyed at not eliciting the reaction he wanted from you, simply nodded and continued drinking from his glass. You couldn't blame him. If you were in his place, you'd also be upset that your best friend of five years kept secrets from you.
As the others happily began to plan, discussing where they would stay and what activities they would engage in during their time together, you quietly excused yourself and slipped into the house, under the pretense of needing to use the bathroom. In truth, you sought a moment alone to recharge your energy.
Upon entering the home, you were immediately dazzled. The polished marble floors reflected light from the crystal chandeliers above, casting a shimmering glow throughout the space. Hardwood-paneled walls exuded a sense of warmth and elegance, while the carefully selected furniture resembled masterpieces from bygone eras, adorned with velvet upholstery and intricate hand-carved details. It felt as though you had stepped into a museum rather than a house, but you found yourself drawn to the antique charm, as you had always loved old things.
Mesmerized by the environment, you drifted through the room, taking in every detail with a sense of wonder. Your eyes fell upon an ancient sundial, its refined appearance indicating that it had been well cared for over the years. The Roman numerals etched into its surface hinted at its age, yet it seemed strangely familiar to you.
Carefully, you reached out and took hold of the sundial, examining it with a mixture of curiosity and fascination. Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice the presence that had approached from behind until a hoarse voice shattered the silence.
"Don't tell me that another of your secrets involves being a thief of ancient objects?" the voice spoke, causing you to startle and clutch your chest in surprise.
"You scared me," you blurted out, turning to face Yoongi, who stood with his arms crossed and a neutral expression on his pale face.
"You didn't answer my question," he blurted out, his voice tinged with frustration.
You sighed inwardly, feeling the weight of his mistrust bearing down on you. You knew you had lost a bit of his trust, but you held onto the belief that it was for his own good not to know the truth just yet.
"I'm not a thief, Yoongi," you declared firmly, meeting his gaze. "I was just admiring Taehyung's belongings. They're quite charming."
Yoongi made a noncommittal sound, his eyes still fixed on you, assessing.
"I'm surprised you agreed to come. You usually avoid spending time with strangers," he remarked, leaning casually against an old white piano in the room.
You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "They're not strangers anymore. They're yours and Jimin's friends."
"Mmm, and apparently yours too," he replied, a hint of skepticism in his tone. "That photo with Jungkook seems to suggest otherwise."
Your muscles tensed at the mention of Jungkook, and you glanced nervously around the room, confirming there was no one else nearby.
"We're not friends," you blurted out, your voice tinged with urgency. "It's complicated, and you know it."
Yoongi's fingers idly tapped on the piano keys, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
"If it's so complicated, why do you have a photo with him from almost twelve years ago?" he pressed, his voice softer but still probing.
You clenched your fists, feeling a surge of anxiety rising within you. "Yoongi, please, not here."
A knowing smile tugged at the corners of Yoongi's lips. "Come on, Daisy. What are you so afraid of? We could take this conversation to the garden and clear up any doubts by asking Jungkook about his relationship with you," he suggested, his tone laced with a hint of malice as he moved toward the exit of the room.
You watched in fear as Yoongi headed towards the window, your mind racing for a solution. In a moment of desperation, you tapped into the magic you possessed and willed the sliding window to close. A golden breeze swept past Yoongi, slamming the window shut with a force that startled him.
"___," he exclaimed your name in surprise, quickly turning to look at you. As he approached, you found yourself equally surprised, frozen in place by the unexpected turn of events.
You cursed inwardly, realizing the gravity of the situation. Blaming it on the wind or the alcohol wasn't an option—there was no wind current in the room, and Yoongi had a higher alcohol tolerance than you.
Your heart pounded in your chest as Yoongi's expression flickered through various states of confusion.
“I…” you began, but your words were cut off by the sound of the sliding window. To your dismay, Jungkook appeared from outside, his cheeks flushed with surprise at the scene unfolding before him.
"Oh," Jungkook said, his eyes filled with concern as he took in your pale complexion. "Are you two okay, Daisy? You look pale," he added, moving closer to you with genuine worry.
Not now, you thought desperately, knowing that having Jungkook so close after the tense moment with Yoongi wasn't ideal. Before you could reassure him and prevent him from coming any closer, someone else entered the room. It was Taehyung, who followed Jungkook inside and looked around at the scene with equal surprise.
"Wow, you've stumbled upon my most cherished heirloom, Daisy!" Taehyung remarked, holding a bottle of champagne in one hand as he gestured towards the sundial behind you.
Grateful for the diversion, you managed to suppress the sigh of relief that threatened to escape you. "Oh! Yes! It's absolutely adorable!" you exclaimed, your voice a touch higher than usual, surprising even yourself.
Beside you, Yoongi kept his gaze fixed on you, while Jungkook looked like a bewildered puppy.
Taehyung appeared delighted by your enthusiasm. "I know, right? It's pretty cool," he said, setting the champagne aside and moving closer to you.
As Taehyung began to explain the origins and intricacies of his cherished relic, you couldn't help but feel like you were a magnet for trouble. It seemed like every situation you found yourself in turned into a delicate balancing act. For someone who believed in and possessed magic, it was disheartening to constantly encounter such misfortune. You made a mental note to consult Salem when you got home, wondering if he knew any charms or spells to ward off ill intentions or protect against malevolent forces.
Beside you, Yoongi appeared lost in a haze of confusion, his sharp mind undoubtedly searching for a rational explanation for your inexplicable action. Yet, deep down, you knew that no logical reasoning could justify what had just transpired. He had witnessed it firsthand, plain and simple.
"Okay," you thought, a plan forming in your mind. "I'll bring Yoongi home with me and lay out the whole truth for him."
The idea of having your best friend angry at you was unbearable to your heart and mind, especially when you were the sole culprit. Your carefully crafted plan to calmly and rationally explain everything to him was swiftly thrown into disarray. Now, you would have to confront the truth head-on, blurting out the entirety of it and hoping against hope that Yoongi would still choose to stand by your side as a friend.
As Taehyung continued to ramble on about the sundial, you seized the opportunity to discreetly touch Yoongi's arm. He snapped out of his trance and locked eyes with you, to which you simply murmured, "I'll explain everything to you at home."
Yoongi raised an eyebrow at your cryptic message but nodded in acknowledgment, diverting his attention back to the conversation unfolding around him.
"Oh, Yoongi! You know him, right?" Taehyung interjected, his voice filled with excitement. Yoongi furrowed his brow in confusion.
"Kang? The guy from work?" Yoongi attempted to recall, scratching his head. Taehyung persisted, trying to jog Yoongi's memory. "Yeah, the wealthy guy who travels the world?"
A moment of realization dawned on Yoongi as he snapped his fingers. "Oh! You mean your college classmate?" he exclaimed, the pieces coming together.
Taehyung nodded eagerly. "Exactly! He was always our favorite back in college, wasn't he, Jungkook?"
Jungkook nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I haven't seen him in ages. Wasn't he on vacation in Egypt?" Jungkook inquired, his curiosity piqued. "I remember him mentioning something about wanting to explore the ancient magic of the Egyptians."
You stood by, feeling slightly lost amidst their conversation, but grateful for the distraction as your mind buzzed with thoughts of how to broach the topic with Yoongi. After all, you were harboring the secret of being a runaway witch from your homeland, with the boy in front of you being your childhood best friend and ex-boyfriend. Not to mention, Taehyung was also a childhood friend.
"Well, for someone as ostentatious as him, a vacation to a place like Egypt with that excuse seems fitting," Yoongi remarked casually, shrugging his shoulders.
"Well, this watch has a special meaning," Taehyung remarked, drawing everyone's attention back to the sundial. "At least, that's what Kang told me when he gave it to me. He mentioned that it gave him a sense of connection and calm, like he could keep track of how I was, although he never explained exactly how that connection worked."
Jungkook chuckled at this, giving Taehyung a friendly pat on the back. "Dude, you know how he is. It's probably just a luxurious piece of junk he had lying around, and he gave it to you, adding a bit of mystery like he always does," he tried to explain. Your ears perked up at their conversation.
Taehyung furrowed his brow. "Come on! You have to admit, it does give off a strange vibe. Like it's... magical," he added the last word with a special tone, causing a flicker of realization to ignite in your mind.
Magical.
That was what had seemed odd about the sundial from the beginning.
Trying to contain your excitement, you smoothly inserted yourself into the conversation. "Can I see it again? I haven't come across one like this in a while," you excused yourself, and Taehyung gladly handed the sundial over to you without hesitation.
You discreetly inspected the sundial, mindful of the three pairs of eyes fixed on you. Unlike the first time, your focus wasn't on the intricate carvings or craftsmanship, but rather on detecting any traces of the elusive magic that seemed to beckon to you. However, despite your experience with enchanted objects, this one proved to be exceptionally well-hidden. You sensed the presence of magic, but its source remained frustratingly elusive.
Then, as if by magic itself, the window abruptly swung open once more, startling everyone and causing you to accidentally drop the watch.
"No!" you exclaimed in dismay, but it was too late—the delicate timepiece lay broken on the ground.
"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!" Jiwoo's voice echoed through the room.
You and Jungkook instantly crouched down to inspect the damage, unable to see Yoongi's annoyed expression or Taehyung's frustrated glance at the girl.
"It's okay, Jiwoo. Just remember to be careful when opening that window," Taehyung responded calmly, masking any irritation he felt.
But your attention drifted away, away from the shattered clock on the cold floor, away from the chaos stirred by Jiwoo's unintended disruption. Instead, it gravitated towards the point where your hand had met Jungkook's, the fleeting touch still resonating between you like an echo of something profound.
Yet, it wasn't the physical collision that captivated you; it was the silent exchange conveyed through Jungkook's deep, enigmatic eyes. They held a universe of emotions—affection, surprise, and perhaps a whisper of trepidation—a reflection of your own soul laid bare. In that fleeting moment of contact, it was as if a burst of celestial light had illuminated the space between you, casting ephemeral shadows of longing and uncertainty.
Jungkook's gaze seemed to speak volumes, a silent poetry that danced between you, weaving intricate verses of longing and desire, yet clouded by the veil of confusion.
You knew it was forbidden, this enchantment that pulled you towards him. Another held claim to his heart, yet you couldn't help but linger in the ethereal realm of possibility, where the boundaries of reality blurred and the allure of the unknown beckoned. But reality intruded, like a harsh whisper amidst a symphony of dreams, as Taehyung's voice shattered the delicate illusion that had enveloped you both.
"Kook? Daisy?" Tae's voice rang out, laced with concern. "Are you both alright? Are you hurt?"
You snapped out of your daze first, as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been poured over you. Reality crashed back in, along with a wave of shame and dread. You scrambled to your feet, nearly colliding with Yoongi in your haste.
"I'm fine!" you exclaimed, adrenaline coursing through your veins. "I'm so sorry, Taehyung! I didn't mean to let it slip."
Jungkook rose from the ground more slowly, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. Instead, you focused on Taehyung, who stood with his eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Don't worry, Daisy! The most important thing is that nobody got hurt," he reassured you.
Jiwoo, feeling slightly embarrassed for her sudden entrance, approached her fiancé with a worried expression. "My Kookie, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?" she inquired sharply, inspecting his hands as he stood there, lost in thought.
Jungkook shook his head mechanically, his dark eyes fixed on the ground. Jiwoo gently clasped her delicate hands around his larger ones, planting a kiss on his cheek.
You couldn't bear to witness their tender interaction any longer. It felt like acid coursing through your veins, burning with a mixture of jealousy and regret.
Yoongi, ever quiet but perceptive, placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up, Daisy. It can be fixed," he consoled, nodding towards the broken sundial.
A pang of guilt washed over you, though not for the reason Yoongi assumed. You felt dirty for harboring affectionate thoughts towards someone who was engaged. You fought back the urge to cry, knowing that it was a self-inflicted wound you had to bear.
Taehyung attempted to lighten the mood. "Yoongi's right. It's not the end of the world. It was just an accident," he chimed in, offering a supportive smile.
You managed a weak smile in return, casting your gaze downwards. Then, something caught your eye, and you widened them in surprise. Amidst the broken pieces of the sundial, a small, seemingly insignificant purple dust emanated from the carved dial. But you recognized it for what it truly was—an enchantment.
To prevent any further misunderstandings, you quickly crouched down, gathering the broken pieces and hiding the dial from view. Turning to Taehyung, you spoke up. "I'll take care of this. I know a skilled gnomonist who can fix it."
Taehyung nodded appreciatively, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. It was your cue to make your escape. You shot a meaningful glance at Yoongi, who understood your silent plea.
"I think it's time for us to head out, don't you think, Daisy?" Yoongi interjected, coming to your rescue.
You nodded eagerly, casting a glance at Taehyung. "What?!" Jiwoo exclaimed, still holding onto Jungkook's hands, who avoided meeting your gaze.
For the sake of your own sanity, you chose not to dwell on his reaction. "I'm sorry, but I have some important matters to attend to tomorrow, and I need to get an early start," you explained, noticing Taehyung's desire to intervene. "Thank you for everything. It was a pleasure meeting you," you expressed your gratitude to Taehyung. "And don't worry about the watch. It will be good as new."
"But!" Jiwoo's interruption cut through the conversation, her tone insistent. "Our last guest has arrived! You can't leave yet!"
You were taken aback by this unexpected revelation. You hadn't known that another guest was expected. Taehyung's face lit up at the news.
"He's here already? Perfect, let's go!" Tae exclaimed, signaling for everyone to follow him outside.
As you exited the room, your eyes caught sight of a third figure engaged in conversation with Namjoon and Jimin near the pool. Though you couldn't see his face, his tall stature and broad back were unmistakable.
Jimin spotted your group and waved enthusiastically, signaling for you to join them. "Look who's back!"
Resigned to delaying your escape a little longer, you followed Taehyung's lead. As he approached the man, Taehyung greeted him with a warm hug.
"Long time no see, buddy!" Taehyung exclaimed joyfully. "I thought you wouldn't make it today!"
The other man responded with a hint of arrogance in his tone. "You know how I am. With a snap of my fingers, I get what I want."
His words triggered a sense of familiarity in you, but before you could dwell on it, Jungkook released Jiwoo's hand and joined Taehyung in greeting the newcomer, mirroring his friend's enthusiasm.
"The golden boy!" the unfamiliar man exclaimed, his voice dripping with familiarity. "I haven't laid eyes on you in ages!"
Connecting the dots, you realized that this man must be Kang, the friend of Tae and Kook.
As you approached, you could see that he was dressed in dark, expensive-looking attire, giving off the air of a corporate professional. His short, neatly combed hair and polished appearance only added to his aura of sophistication. But the horror that washed over you upon seeing his face left you breathless.
For ten long years, you had been plagued by nightmares featuring that very face. Some nights, you would dream of him causing harm to your loved ones or relentlessly pursuing you. But you always found solace in the fact that, upon waking, it was nothing more than a fleeting nightmare.
Yet now, confronted with the visage of your deepest fears, the same mocking and haughty expression etched upon his features, you felt an overwhelming urge to retch.
As if by some twisted magic, Kang Hyung's arrogant facade crumbled upon catching sight of you. His smile stretched so wide that it seemed his mouth might split open at any moment.
"I don't believe we've been properly introduced, my dear," Kang's silky voice sent shivers down your spine, making you wish you could block out the sound.
Unaware of your internal turmoil, the others continued chatting, oblivious to your frozen state. You stood as still as a statue, your mind screaming for you to flee, to escape.
Jimin, radiating happiness, took it upon himself to introduce you. "This is Daisy, our friend. I've mentioned her to you several times."
Kang's smile turned sly as he responded, "Ah, yes! I've heard quite a bit about you, dear Daisy." His intense gaze bore into you, his eyes so dark that you couldn't discern his pupils.
His words felt like a thinly veiled threat, and you knew it. He knew things about you—things he shouldn't know. The fear that gripped you intensified. You needed to leave, to warn everyone about the danger lurking behind Kang's facade.
You wanted to scream, to alert them all that the man they were smiling at was dangerous and self-serving. That he would not hesitate to harm them for his own gain. You needed to ensure their safety, to get them out of harm's way. And above all, you needed to protect Jungkook. He was your priority.But Kang shot you a knowing glance, as if he could read your thoughts, and you froze in place.
You reminded yourself that you couldn't confront Kang. You were weak, having not practiced magic, let alone protective spells, in over a decade. You felt utterly powerless to shield your friends from the danger that lurked beneath Kang's charming facade.
A comforting hand landed on your back, and you turned to find Yoongi's worried expression. In that moment, you felt exposed, as if he could see the terror that filled your eyes, threatening to consume you.
Keeping his hand on your back, Yoongi spoke up. "I'll take Daisy home. It was great seeing you all. Thanks for everything," he said, bidding farewell to the group.
You wanted to protest, to tell him that you couldn't leave your friends in the clutches of that monster, but you knew you needed to think rationally. Kang was acting friendly for a reason; he wouldn't drop his facade for you.
It dawned on you that Kang had befriended Jungkook and Taehyung for a purpose, and that purpose was you. He had approached your friends deliberately, with a hidden agenda.
He wanted you to play his game, just as you always had. If you wanted to keep your friends safe, you knew what you had to do.
"Thank you for everything. It was a pleasure spending time with you," you stated firmly, surprised at the strength in your voice.
Quickly bidding farewell to everyone, you stole one last glance, catching Kang's gaze fixed on you. His expression held a warning, silently conveying only one message: "Be careful."
The atmosphere inside the car was heavy with an unbearable silence, yet amidst everything that had transpired, you found yourself strangely indifferent. Yoongi, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, kept his pale hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel.
Rather than requesting Yoongi to drive you home, you made an unexpected decision, asking him to take you both to the place where your paths first crossed - the old museum. You, a young woman navigating the complexities of independence, seeking employment, and Yoongi, grappling with familial troubles, in need of a distraction, found solace in each other's company.
Five years ago, your lives collided by chance, or perhaps fate, as you accidentally collided with Yoongi while rushing to a job interview. However, what began as a mere accident blossomed into a profound friendship that endured the test of time.
As you parked the car and stepped out, the two of you found yourselves seated on the weathered benches outside the museum, each lost in your own thoughts, yet somehow finding comfort in the familiarity of each other's presence.
Summoning all your courage, you straightened your posture and began to speak, addressing the weighty silence between you and Yoongi. "I understand you're upset with me, and I can see why," you started, your voice carrying the weight of remorse and honesty. "If I discovered that my closest confidant of five years, someone I trust implicitly and have shared so much with, was keeping secrets from me, particularly ones as bewildering as mine, I'd be hurt too."
Yoongi's silence persisted, prompting you to press on. "I realize you're hurt, and for that, I'm truly sorry. You've entrusted me with deeply personal matters, ones you haven't even shared with Jimin. It's only fair that I reciprocate."
Taking a deep breath, you directed your gaze ahead to the tranquil scene of ducks gliding across a small pond. "I've shared some truths about my past with you—about fleeing my home and severing ties with my family, about my identity as a florist, my struggles with forging friendships, and even the trivial details like my lazy cat and the rundown apartment I call home."
You clenched your fists, willing them to stop trembling as you prepared to reveal the omitted truths weighing heavily on your conscience. "But there are aspects of myself I've kept hidden. I'm not 'normal,' at least not in the conventional sense. I know you've picked up on my sensitivities and social struggles, which society deems as deviations from the norm, but that's not what I'm referring to."
Sensing Yoongi's urge to interject, you raised a hand to silence him. "It's the truth, and I know you're aware of it. I am different, in ways that go beyond mere social awkwardness or sensitivity. And what I mean by that is..." With resolve hardening in your heart, you knew it was now or never. Honesty was your only chance of salvaging the trust between you and Yoongi, a bond you couldn't bear to lose.
"I'm not entirely human," you whispered, the admission hanging heavy in the air. "I'm a witch, descended from an ancient lineage."
A pregnant pause followed, Yoongi's silence pressing down on you like a weight, stirring a growing sense of panic within. Then, unexpectedly, his laughter pierced the tense atmosphere.
"Daisy, come on! Do you really have so little respect for me that you'd fabricate such absurdities?" Yoongi's tone dripped with annoyance. "I came here because you promised me the truth, not some ridiculous fantasy."
His abrupt dismissal fueled your desperation, propelling you to your feet in a bid to salvage the crumbling trust between you. "No, I'm not lying! I swear it's the truth!"
But Yoongi, unmoved by your plea, rose from his seat with palpable irritation, making his way towards the parking lot. "I thought our friendship was built on genuine trust, but it's clear you don't have faith in me," he retorted mockingly, his words a dagger to your heart.
Frustration and helplessness surged within you, pushing you to the brink. "Of course I trust you! That's why you're my friend!" you cried out, the desperation evident in your voice.
As Yoongi continued his departure, your patience snapped, and with a swift motion, you recited an immobilization spell in your mind, snapping your fingers to enact its power. Yoongi froze, his expression contorting in bewilderment and anger.
"What the hell?" he exclaimed, glaring at you incredulously as you strode purposefully towards him, determined to make him understand the truth, even if it cost you your sanity.
"You know, I had hoped we could discuss this like mature adults, but you've left me no choice!" Your frustration boiled over as you confronted Yoongi, the power of your words matched by the intensity of your emotions. "With a simple snap of my fingers, I can bend reality to my will!"
Yoongi's attempts to move proved futile as he remained frozen, his disbelief evident in the furrow of his brow and the widening of his eyes.
"Since you refuse to believe me and insist on leaving, I'll lay it all out for you! I'm a bona fide witch, okay?!" Your voice rang out with conviction, unapologetic for the seemingly outlandish revelation. "It's not some silly tale or figment of imagination; it's the truth, and I'm living proof of it!"
Your frustration morphed into defiance as you continued, heedless of how irrational you might seem. "I possess powers beyond your wildest imagination—I can move objects with my mind, attract things to me, summon them into existence, alter reality as I see fit! Ever wonder why our flower shop thrives, even in the dead of winter? It's because of me! I enchant the flowers, keep them vibrant and alive, ensuring they flourish and fetch top prices!"
But your abilities extended far beyond floristry, a fact you were determined to impress upon Yoongi. "And that's not all! I can charm individuals, manipulate their actions, brew potions, induce love, or even erase memories! There's a spell for every conceivable situation!"
As Yoongi stared at you in stunned silence, his disbelief palpable, you forged ahead, undeterred by his reaction. "I understand this is a lot to take in, but it's the truth, whether you choose to believe it or not!"
"Do you want to know who Jungkook is to me? Well, then listen closely," you exclaimed, your voice raw with emotion. "He's more than just a childhood friend—he's my lifeline, the only beacon of acceptance in a sea of rejection. He was the only one who saw past the rumors and stigma, the only one who saw me for who I truly am."
As tears streamed down your cheeks, you bared your soul, each word a painful admission. "Do you know why he doesn't remember me? Because I made him forget! I erased myself from his memories to protect him, to shield him from the dangers that lurked because of me."
The weight of your confession crushed you, forcing you to your knees as sobs wracked your body. "I didn't want to do it," you choked out between sobs. "But it was necessary. I had to let him go, for his own safety, even if it meant sacrificing my own happiness."
The anguish in your voice echoed through the empty space, your vulnerability laid bare for Yoongi to witness. "I didn't want to leave my home, my family, but I had to. And despite the pain and loneliness, you... you made me feel safe."
You turned to Yoongi, your gaze pleading for understanding, but he remained silent, his attempts to interject drowned out by the torrent of emotions pouring from your soul. "You have no idea what you mean to me," you whispered, the words a desperate plea for him to comprehend the depth of your gratitude and affection.
As you continued to spill your truths, years of pent-up emotions cascading forth, Yoongi's presence served as a silent witness to the turmoil within your heart.
"I love you, Yoongi," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "You've been like a brother to me, a constant source of support and companionship throughout the years. I never wanted to keep this from you, but when I left home, I was forced to make a promise—a promise to never reveal the truth, for fear of endangering those I care about."
Your hands trembled as you spoke, the weight of your secrets heavy upon your shoulders. "I couldn't bear the thought of putting you or Jimin in harm's way. You both mean too much to me."
Unintentionally, you released the immobilization spell, and within moments, you felt the comforting embrace of Yoongi's arms encircling you. He held you close, his own tears mingling with yours as you both found solace in each other's presence.
"I had no idea," Yoongi murmured against your hair, his voice thick with remorse. "I'm so sorry."
You continued to cry into his chest, the release of pent-up emotions overwhelming yet cathartic. Yoongi's gentle caresses soothed your frayed nerves, his warmth a balm to your troubled soul.
"Take deep breaths, and try to relax," he urged softly, his words a gentle reminder to ground yourself in the present moment.
Gradually, the storm of emotions subsided, leaving behind a sense of peace and understanding. Yoongi's eyes were red and teary, mirroring your own.
"I'm sorry," you said softly, wiping away the tears from your eyes. "It's okay if you don't want to be a part of my life anymore. I'll understand. The last thing I want is to hurt you or anyone else."
"Why wouldn't I want to be a part of your life anymore?" Yoongi's confusion was evident in his tone as he reached out to gently caress your cheek.
You lifted your gaze to the star-filled sky, a heaviness weighing on your heart. "Because I've lied to you all these years. I never told you the truth about who I really am."
Yoongi's touch remained gentle as he reassured you, "I don't think that's reason enough for me to walk away from you."
Hope flickered in your eyes as you gazed at him, his smile serving as a beacon of reassurance. "Really?" you questioned, a hint of disbelief lingering in your voice.
Yoongi nodded, tenderly wiping away the last traces of tears from your cheeks. "Let's go home," he suggested, extending his hand towards you. "You can explain everything to me there. I promise to listen to absolutely everything."
A smile tugged at your lips as you reached out and accepted his hand. "Alright," you agreed, the weight on your shoulders feeling lighter in the presence of his unwavering support.
Kang Hyung was a man proud of himself.
He loved attention and he loved being right.
Kang Hyung exuded an air of self-assurance as he made his way past the half-naked girls dancing on the bar and the leering office workers. He relished the attention, reveling in the approving gazes of the respectable women in the establishment.
Despite his conservative upbringing, which he found ironic given his current surroundings, Kang remained steadfast in his beliefs. He had been molded by generations of tradition within the esteemed Kang family, where mistakes were simply not tolerated.
Satisfied with the day's events, Kang ordered a drink and settled himself at the VIP table, where his loyal subordinates awaited him. Minjun, Yejun, and Seojun knew their boss well, considering him not only a superior but also a friend—or at least they endeavored to maintain that illusion. Kang's mercurial nature kept them on their toes, always striving to present themselves in the best possible light and to prove their usefulness.
But their apprehensions eased as they observed Kang's jubilant demeanor. "That stupid bitch never saw it coming!" Kang chuckled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "You should have witnessed the shock on her face when she realized it was me!"
The trio of brothers mirrored their boss's smile, eager to bask in his approval. "She couldn't even conceal her astonishment," Kang continued, his satisfaction evident. "Even her worthless friends couldn't ignore her reaction."
In that moment, Kang felt invincible. His meticulously laid plans were finally coming to fruition, and he was on the brink of achieving everything he desired.
"Have you spoken to the priest?" Seojun dared to ask, earning a swift reprimand from his older brother, Minjun.
If the brothers were to rank intimidating individuals, the priest of the church of the night would undoubtedly claim the top spot, followed closely by his progeny, Kang, and then their cantankerous yet sinister grandfather.
"By Satan!" Kang exclaimed, his previously buoyant mood dampened. "Do not utter his name. I have no desire for his unwelcome presence here."
Seizing the opportunity to contribute, Yejun interjected, "But Hyung, shouldn't you inform him of your success in apprehending the Moon brat?"
Though Kang knew it was one of his father's directives, he couldn't muster an ounce of concern. "He does not require such information. I am in control here, and that is all that matters," he snapped, his irritation palpable. He despised being questioned, especially by his own subordinates.
In an attempt to alleviate the tension, Minjun, the eldest of the brothers, interjected, "What are your plans now, boss?" he inquired, idly toying with his drink.
Kang's smile returned, though it held a hint of mischief. "Oh, you have no idea,”
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Dark Peter Parker Masterlist
Be aware that these are fiction works made for entertainment purposes. It includes yandere behaviours and several triggers so make sure to READ THE WARNINGS at the beginning.
I do not support any of these toxic behaviours.
Reader is always female.
GIF IMAGINES
▶ One
▶ Two
▶ Three
▶ Four
SCENARIOS
▶ Snap - Peter snaps at you. (Kidnapping; Noncon)
HEADCANON
▶ Headcanon
▶ You wear revealing clothes (Requested) + Continuation
▶ You run away from the wedding (Requested)
▶ Online Friends (Requested)
▶ You like his yandere side (Requested)
▶ Narcissistic reader w/ psycho Peter (Requested)
DRABBLES
▶ His to keep - Your kidnapper will never let you go and he makes sure you know that. (Kidnapping)
▶ A little too much love - Your boyfriend can’t resist you or your wish to wait until marriage, which leads to him having to take drastic actions. (Toxic relationship; Non-con; Roofies/Drinks tampering)
▶ Persistance gets you somewhere - Peter is very insistent in getting a date with you, even if you don’t want to. (Harassment; Stalking; Incel vibes; Implied future Non-con)
▶ Baby on the way - With a baby on the way, will you finally give in to Peter? (Implied non-con; Implied Kidnapping; Forced pregnancy)
▶ Family Matters - Peter finds you and your son years after you ran away from him. How will this family reunion go? (Implied forced pregnancy and toxic relationship; Attempted kidnapping)
▶ Clingy Boyfriend (Requested) (Manipulation)
▶ Duel - You’re happily engaged to Viscount Quill until it all changes with Count Parker.
▶ Different Person - Your best friend Peter has changed and he shows you just how much by keeping you all to himself. (Kidnapping)
▶ (Stalking) Vacations - You go on a small vacation with your friends, but little do you know that your boyfriend has been following you. (Stalking)
▶ Always - Peter loves how good you make him feel with your mouth. Even if you don’t want to. (Non-con (oral)
▶ Cornered - Peter can’t live without you and he’s not afraid to show it. (Fake Suicide Attempt; Manipulation)
▶ Ungrateful - Peter likes to have full control over you, one way or another. (Toxic/Abusive Relationship; Controlling boyfriend; minor Violence)
▶ Never Leaving - Peter needs to keep you, even if you don’t want to. (Kidnap)
▶ Perfect Family - Peter knows you’re about to break up with him. So what’s the next logical step? Get you pregnant, obviously. (Babytrapping; Toxic relationship; Birth control Tampering)
▶ New Dynamic - Peter wants to start a life together but you seem awfully reluctant. He doesn’t like it. (Toxic relationship; Manipulation.)
▶ Marriage Proposal - You should’ve broken up with Peter long ago. Now you deal with the consequences.
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M stands for Max!
For the longest time, I wondered what does this symbol mean. Stickers with this symbol can be found both on Chloe’s truck and in her room. It’s a white cross on a dark blue background. The only thing it reminds me of is the Scottish flag, although it’s not quite it – the Scottish flag is not square, its cross is thinner and the background is lighter.
I didn't think the flag hypothesis was correct (although I couldn't rule it out completely – Chloe proudly displays a huge-ass US flag in her room, which is the only large flat surface in her room not defaced with graffiti), but I kind of wanted it to be.
“Price” sounds like a British last name. So perhaps she is indeed of Scottish ancestry (and maybe even a great granddaughter of captain Price himself, the one of Call of Duty fame). This coupled with Max being Irish (“You’ve got that Irish luck, Caulfield”, as Chloe put it) would give their relationship a "Romeo and Juliet” vibe. Two scions of nations that have been at odds for centuries being friends and falling in love? How romantic! Love truly can blossom over any division! I’m of course joking. I know that the Irish and the British have been on generally friendly terms for decades now. But the difficult history is still there. So I don’t think their British and Irish ancestry would be any kind of problem. But it could be a source of friendly banter between them and an opportunity for their friends to make humorous comments.
But today a fellow LiS fan enlightened me that it's a nautical communication flag. It means the letter "M". Why "M" though? Why not "C" for "Chloe" or "P" for "Price"?
"M" for "Max" of course! Chloe's always had Max on her mind. Just like she wrote in her diary in BtS, if Max came back, she would take her back in a heartbeat, no questions asked. And that's precisely what she did, saying "welcome home, Max" five minutes after their reunion, before she even knew Max saved her life, even if Max gave her stink by saying to "give her a break, because she was going through changes too" (sure, moving to a different town is comparable to losing a parent).
Notice that this symbol is found on the windshield of Chloe's truck on the passenger's side, where Max sits. And in Episode 3 this symbol is visible on Chloe's cabinet as the camera pans through the room, right before we see Max lying in Chloe's bed.
These flags are used to communicate between ships when they are out of earshot. So Chloe, unable to communicate with Max verbally (over the phone, which Max didn't pick up), placed these flags all over, subconsciously trying to send a signal to her lost friend, to summon her back.
Because Max and Chloe are always together. Even when they are not.
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I watched return of the jedi for the first time in 4 years and here are my thoughts:
I know the line between sci-fi and fantasy is already super blurry but Star Wars truly feels like a fantasy movie. It’s in the costumes, the worldbuilding, the vibe, the odd encounters, palpatine’s entire character. And while there is futuristic tech the world of Star Wars doesn’t feel particularly Futuristic™️, if that makes sense.
There’s this one imperial officer Bacar interacts with at the start of the movie who acts his ASS off. Seriously give this man an Oscar. The fear!! The subtly!! The little gulp he does before facing Vadar!!! The palpable terror at the idea of the emperor coming there!!! This dude single handedly sets up palpatine as a threat
PRACTICAL SETS!!! All the practical sets!!! There’s so many sequences, especially in jabba’s palace but they’re throughout, where the characters casually interact with the world around them, and it’s such a small detail but it means so much to me. They really feel like they’re part of the world. My favorites were the Hall of Horrors C-3PO walks through in Jabba’s palace and Luke interacting with his x-wing on dagoba
It’s not all this great though, the green screen to the sarlack pit was awful. I found it endearing.
Also I love how there’s so much this movie doesn’t explain to you. There’s this weird robot spider thing in Jabba’s palace that we see when R2 and C-3PO walk in!!! What does it do!!! There’s a guy who’s super upset when Luke kills that monster!!! Who is he!!! And a bunch of other weird little things that just aren’t elaborated on. On top of that there’s just all these strange aliens just chilling, living their lives, some of which I don’t think we see again. It all comes together to make the world feel so much bigger than what we see.
I’d heard the analysis that Luke wears black in return of the Jedi to allude to a possible fall to the dark side, but that analysis hadn’t really clicked for me until this watch through. Like dude’s introduction was him force choking someone
Honestly like has this kind of subdued confidence this whole movie and I love it. He knows he’s good but doesn’t need to flaunt it.
Like his grin when he says “you should have bargained jabba. It’s the last mistake you’ll ever make” I love it
Luke is actually really subdued this entire movie, which tracks with all the internal conflict he’s dealing with. The biggest displays of emotion we see from him are when he’s reuniting with friends or when he goes OFF on Vadar at the end for threatening leia
Chewbacca and Han’s reunion 😭, they care so much about each other, chewy pets his head
In general everyone is so happy to see each other in this movie, every time someone shows up after being separated everyone is so excited to see them. There’s so many hugs. You can really tell they care about each other.
Due to some of the framing, I don’t think leia slaughtering Jabba was part of the plan. I think she just saw an opportunity and took it. Girlboss.
I noticed Luke’s fighting style with his lightsaber is much tougher around the edges, it’s less elegant, which tracks with him having much less official training with it. I like it
Yoda trying to use dying as a way to avoid Luke’s questions. Iconic.
Yoda’s choked out dying words of “there is another skywalker” become so much funnier when you remember he becomes a force ghost. The man could just peacefully pass then come back 10 minutes later and continue the conversation, he doesn’t need to try this hard to get the words out. Then again that would take some of the drama out of it.
Han is just so great in this movie, he’s got a reputation for being this suave sarcastic outlaw, which to be fair he kind of was in new hope, but here he’s just so sweet. He’s the one telling Luke to be more optimistic! When lando gets his promotion to general he doesn’t tell him about his own, and looks genuinely bashful when it’s brought up in front of the group! He goes to check on leia after she talks with Luke! He gives lando the falcon because he knows it’ll help him even though the ship means so much to him and is scared of it getting destroyed! When he thinks leia has feelings for Luke he offers to step aside and not get in the way! This man cares about his friends!
Speaking of that moment with leia after Luke leaves, that’s the one moment we see him being a dick, he lashes out with “but you could tell Luke? Is that who you could tell?!” But then immediately apologizes and comforts her when she asks for it. He loves leia so much and it’s so obvious the entire time
My man thought he was in this love triangle and was doing his best, and was fully prepared to step aside and let leia be happy with Luke. And the face journey he goes on when leia tells him luke is her brother. It’s gold. It’s that math meme but even better.
For the mission to endor, Luke and leia are both in these camo space ponchos and helmets but apparently Han’s outfit was to iconic to change because he just puts on a camo trench coat over his usual outfit
The first speeder chase through the woods of endor struck me as much more low key then it would have been if it was made today. This isn’t a bad thing, but I know if it was made today it would have been much more dramatic, a set piece
When leia goes missing Han, Luke, and chewy immediately peel off from the group to go find her. Good friends but you are LEADING THE MISSION
Leia meeting the ewok is a fun sequence and it’s funny how she just rolls with it. She does not question it, just accepts this little guy is here now and starts following him. It’s funny to contrast this with when Luke, Han, and chewy rescued her in a new hope and she fought every step of the way
In general the Ewoks are such a strange and whimsical inclusion. Like this is part 3 in a space opera and a huge chunk of it has these little furry dudes who live and fight like the lost boys from Peter Pan that we’ve literally never seen before. It’s weird
Luke is so delighted by the Ewoks, from his little smile when the first surround them to trying to hide his laughter at them thinking C-3PO is a god
Also we should not ignore how hilarious his idea to scare the Ewoks into listening was. And the man knew it too, you could tell from his smile. The little shit.
The storytelling sequence!!! I love it!! I love how C-3PO uses the sound effects! I love how everyone is huddled together! I love how we the audience can tell what’s being said from context clues even if we don’t understand all the words!!
Luke peacing out like “it’s time to angst😔”
I do think the bridge scene between luke and leia could have been done a bit better but it wasn’t bad, just a bit flat for the gravity of what was being revealed. Leia and Han are great though
I love luke and vadar’s back and forths even if they can get repetitive
The writers really used “search your feelings” or “your feelings betray you” as shortcuts to avoid hard writing huh
The emperor was such a little gremlin, he did nothing but talk about how luke was going to fall to him, how he knew everything was gonna happen and it’s all according to his plan, he really didn’t do anything but talk shit until the very end with the force lightning
To be fair, Vadar didn’t do anything until the force lightning either
Neither of these points are complaints, palpatine is supposed to be a shadowy scheming villain that others do the dirty work for and the really pull it off. And vadar’s passivity in this movie I think demonstrates the conflict he’s feeling. Despite his words about how he must do his emperor’s will, he’s not really doing that right now, is he? He’s not really defying orders either but something is different
Something I noticed!!! When Han’s team first make it in to the back door, off in the corner as they go inside we see a storm trooper adjusting his armor and taking his position again. One of the rebels stole the storm troopers armor and took their place. This doesn’t lead up to anything but it’s SUCH a cool detail
The true hero’s of this movie are the Ewoks, palpatine had Han’s team captured and the air fleet on the ropes before the Ewoks stepped in and saved Han and co. Palpatine would probably have won if it weren’t for them. It’s great.
I really love luke so much, he’s just so compassionate. For his friends, for his father, for everyone. This is the trait that makes him a hero. It’s literally what palpatine tried to use to turn him, the anger he’d feel at watching his friends die because he loves them so much
“No, you’re wrong. I am a Jedi, like my father before me” not gonna lie, this was kinda hot. It’s that quiet confidence I was talking about earlier. Also the way he nods towards vadar when he mentions his father
“….so be it, Jedi” THIS!!!! THIS!!!! I love this so much!! Because the entire movie palpatine has been talking about how Luke is going to fall to him, how it’s inevitable, how Luke is foolish to think otherwise. But this moment right here, is him acknowledging he’s wrong. He won’t be able to turn Luke, he failed. Luke truly is a Jedi and even palpatine cannot away him. It’s so fucking good
When vadar lifts up palpatine to stop him, we get a reaction shot for Luke who just looks so confused. Appropriate reaction.
As luke is dragging vadar to his ship we see imperial officers and storm troopers running around to try and escape and I just want to know what the fuck was going through their heads when they saw Luke and vadar
I know the falcon surviving doesn’t make sense but it makes me happy
Something important I realized towards the end: AT NO POINT IN THIS MOVIE DID ANYONE TELL HAN VADAR WAS LUKE’S DAD
CHEWY AND LANDO WEREN’T TOLD EITHER FOR THAT MATTER
THEY DON’T KNOW
Presumably they were told later but holy fuck why is no one talking about this.
Again….those reunions, hugs all around, everyone is so happy and relieved and I love it
I know it doesn’t end here, which makes be kinda sad, because this is such a beautiful and hopeful ending
All in all, with all the Star Wars fatigue and what Disney has been doing, this really reminded me what I love about Star Wars. I felt like I could appreciate the movie a lot more on this watch through and had a wonderful time
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So I said I was gonna write something about an aspect of Amiya as a character that really hooked me when I saw the anime and made me go play the game....
So, I really like paragons. Superman, Adora, paladins in DnD, etc.
So naturally I was already liking Amiya as a fairly paragon hero from the get go. A hero fighting for her ideals and with a strong moral compass. (Also big jacket is just great design)
So, the moment I knew Arknights had its hooks in me...
Lets talk about episode 7 and 8 of the anime.
Skullshatterer, someone who essentially represents the very people Amiya wishes to save, tries to murder the doctor to save his sister (I actually got some very cult like vibes from Reunion in the early chapters as a group preying on people with very real problems and directing them into blind loyalty towards the group and their doctrine and hatred of those not in the group, this is of course moved away from in later chapters. I think the more morally gray anti-hero portrayal Reunion moves into over time works better overall, but I did find the kinda cult vibe fascinating too).
It is of course a classic scenario to have a situation where the easy out is for a paragon to compromise on their morals but they still will not....
Except Amiya does.
She kills Skullshatterer out of desperation to protect the doctor.
And this horrifies her. The realisation that she is willing to compromise on her own morals because of her own fears and hangups makes her feel like a huge failure.
Amiya is essentially a person *trying* to be a paragon, but her own flaws and situation often gets in the way of that.
This had me really intrigued, and it helps that the anime version portrays how badly shaken up by this Amiya is *really well* and the fallout with what Misha ends up doing in chapter 8 and such is also handled pretty well in the anime.
I do think that the anime making Amiya more easily rattled by horrifying things then she is in the game has the potential to maybe undermine that scene in chapter 8 where Amiya breaks down crying once the mission is done, but it really improves the Skullshatterer and Misha arc.
Amiya of course grows a lot from here, and we learn a lot more about *why* she sees it as such a personal failure to not be able to be a savior but it was a very interesting starting point to me and the thing that made me decide to check the game out. I wanted to know where Amiya´s arc would go from there and know why she was the way she was, why does a teenager believe it is her duty to save everyone? What drives her to be so dedicated to her ideals and where will she go from here? Will she gradually have her idealism crushed out of her (like what we eventually learn happened to Talulah) or will she persevere and manage to actually grow into the hero she feels she should be? Something entirely different?
My taste in media tends to lean... dark but hopeful.
I like seeing characters plunged into the pits of despair manage to climb their way out and grow and become better then before, they may never be what they wanted to become, but they can still grow to be better.
Amiya has grown to be one of my all time favorite characters in anything.
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-‘๑’- Prompts for Requesting
༊*·˚ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ :
•*⁀➷ You're not unlovable, love
•*⁀➷ Romantic confession
•*⁀➷ Comfort prompts
•*⁀➷ Different ways to say 'I love you'
•*⁀➷ Simple actions
•*⁀➷ Thunderstorms
•*⁀➷ 'idiots in love' prompts
•*⁀➷ Comforting sentences
•*⁀➷ Domastic intimacy
•*⁀➷ Soft and Sweet sentences
•*⁀➷ Pregnancy and baby prompts
༊*·˚ ꜱᴍᴜᴛᴛ :
•*⁀➷ Sexual tension
•*⁀➷ Smut Prompts
•*⁀➷ Soft dirty talk
•*⁀➷ Building the tension
•*⁀➷ BDSM/DOM-SUB prompts
•*⁀➷ Spicy Actions
•*⁀➷ Nonverbal Sexual Sentences
•*⁀➷ Words sexual prompts
•*⁀➷ Subtle smutt sentences
•*⁀➷ Inexperienced
༊*·˚ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ :
•*⁀➷ Intense Vibes
•*⁀➷ Protective prompts
•*⁀➷ Cheating and being caught
•*⁀➷ pre-war/pre-battle
•*⁀➷ Forbidden love
•*⁀➷ Enemies to Lovers
•*⁀➷ Touch starved
•*⁀➷ Hit 'em where it hurts
•*⁀➷ High pain tolerance
•*⁀➷ Dark and Angsty
•*⁀➷ "We're just too different"
༊*·˚ ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ :
•*⁀➷ Reassurance
•*⁀➷ Hurt-comfort dialogues
•*⁀➷ Lovers in denial
•*⁀➷ Hurt/Comfort prompts
•*⁀➷ Yearning
•*⁀➷ Found Family
•*⁀➷ Heavy hearted
•*⁀➷ Enemies to Lovers,lovers to Enemies & Everything in between
•*⁀➷ Jealousy prompts
•*⁀➷ Reunion after trauma
•*⁀➷ Hurt comfort dialogues and prompts
༊*·˚ ᴀʟʟ ɪɴᴄʟᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ :
•*⁀➷ Prompts of all prompts
•*⁀➷ Fluff, smut & angst
•*⁀➷ Prompts & Ideas
༊*·˚ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴꜱ :
•*⁀➷ Bank 1
•*⁀➷ Bank 2
•*⁀➷ Bank 3
•*⁀➷ Bank 4
•*⁀➷ Bank 5
𝐀/𝐧 : (please read this 👏🏼)
Prompt requesting ;
Please while requesting a prompt, mention the genre, list name, number of the prompts (if there are bullet points, count them and then tell me)
Question ;
Ask as many as you want but specify which question bank (1,2,3,4,5) and the question numbers (if bullet points, mention the count of the question)
Let me know if any link is repeated☺️
None of these are mine, all credit goes to the creators, i just wanted to include these for easier requesting 😉
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Would you like to give us some series recs. (Angsty,,mature)typa series
💕💕💕💕💕
series... okay, these are easier to remember, enjoy angel 💖
min yoongi, three tangerines by kithtaehyung. slow burn, slight age gap, brother's best friend, angst, fluff, pining, tension, romance, smut. really beautiful writing. long chapters.
kim namjoon, he's your father's best friend by your-daily-biaswrecking. 👀 this isn't so much a series as it is a drabble with two parts, but it had to be mentioned here bc like >>> dilf!namjoon, age gap, angst, smut. I first came across this story ages ago and I never forgot it, the way the angst and the reunion scene were written did so many things to my heart 😩
kim seokjin, off limits by floralseokjin. brother's best friend, slight angst, fluff, smut. no words no words no words 💖
if you're looking for series that contain some good angst, lots of comfort and amazing smut I am referring you to my queen @beahae 👑 seriously stunning, touching writing, her masterlist is one of my favorite places to go back to for comfort ♥️
jeon jungkook, ex on the beach
ot7, unorthodox
if you're in the mood for series with angst, lots of comfort, lots of fluff and mature themes without the smut, I refer you to my other talented queen @imnotlauriane. I don't even know which series to recommend, I started reading three so far, but I guess she's a magician or something because she comes out with something new and wonderful ALL THE TIME so
here is the masterlist <3
if you'd prefer darker fantasy with these themes and some more amazing smut, please check out claret cravings by @vvh0adie ❤️
hello?! mortician witch reader and seven adorable, possessive vampire bats 🦇 the story is so, so incredibly well written, creative and has the kind of gothic vibes I absolutely love and can't find anywhere else.
speaking of dark fantasy mixed in with these themes and more remarkable writing — @yoongsisbae
masterlist
pick and choose — zombies, werewolves, end of the world. bewitching is the only word I can think of here. I'm only starting my journey through these and I'm in so so love. as I knew I would be ♥️
@jeonggukieverse!!! 🌹fantastic yandere, mystery thrillers. again, I couldn't find works like hers anywhere else. perfection if you ask me, not only in regards to the horror aspect of it, but also the writing itself. 💗
jeon jungkook, bunny boy.
jeon jungkook, let the games begin.
@orchidyoonkook 💐
jeon jungkook, to what we were before, and all the things after. smut, fluff, angst, slow burn. again, only starting my journey here but <3 dreamy and beautiful, yes please to the entire concept of Jungkook as a prince, golden minds create golden stories I guess 💯💞
@deepdarkdelights 💘 this one is so obvious, but I completely fell in love with the outstanding writing style and the unique plot.
jeon jungkook, ten seconds. yandere, angst, smut, hurt/comfort themes.
please don't forget to send the talented authors some love <3
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