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yelenasdiary · 8 months

Note

could you do a yelena royalty au?

yelena’s not the crown princess so her role in the royal family is to marry well and make connections with other influential families.

(nats already married to wanda (the second child of the sokovian royal family))

reader is either just a diplomats daughter and yelena isn’t allowed to marry her but falls in love when reader spends so much time at yelenas home, OR reader is from a very influential family and yelena is pushed to marry her even though she doesn’t want to marry anyone.

idk if you’ll find this interesting but i love the idea

One Day At A Time

Pairing: Princess! Yelena x Princess! Reader

Summary: Life for Yelena is changing as she is pushed to marry another princess from another royal family.

Angst | Teeny Tiny Fluff | Forced Marriage | 1.3K |

AC: This is my first royal AU! I hope you like this & I do apologise if the setting wasn’t that great! I am open to a part 2 of this, if you or somebody else has an idea! X

"Do not argue this Yelena! We need you to do this." Alexei spoke sternly, his wife Melina beside him nodding her head in agreement. "Natasha is married to Wanda, surely that I more than we need!" Yelena couldn't help but bit back at her father.

Melina stood up from her chair before Alexei snapped in anger, "Yelena, take a walk with me" she insisted. The blonde rolled her eyes before following her mother down the hall and into the garden.

"I know this isn't easy for you and you don't want to marry but sometimes in life, we have to do things we don't want to do. We don't do this out of hate, we do this to help. We want to leave you girls with everything you'll ever need and maybe one day you'll pass that onto children of your own" Melina spoke, earning yet another sigh from her youngest daughter.

"I simply do not care to marry. I am happy with my life the way it is. Things might have been easier for father when it came to Natasha but she was already in love. You are asking me to marry somebody I have never met" Yelena explained.

"You know, I never met your father either" the two walked through the garden at a calm pace, "I was forced to marry him to save his fathers kingdom" the brunette added.

"But you seem so in love with him" Yelena frowned.

Melina chuckled, "over time, yes, I fell for him and his kindness. Then we took you girls in and I was glad I married him. I'm not saying it will be the same for you but family is the most important thing"

"You mean the kingdom is the most important thing" Yelena once again rolled her eyes. Melina stopped in her tracks and turned to Yelena, gently brushing her thumb over her daughter's cheek. "Do you remember when you were young and would play pretend with Natasha?" She asked. Yelena nodded, "that is all we are asking. Marry this princess & play your role as her wife when it sees fit. Other than that, you are free to do anything within reason"

Yelena sighed heavily knowing there was no way out of the situation. "Fine, I'll do it" she said with defeat, her mother smiled softly and placed a kiss on her cheek "you're a good girl Yelena"

——

The wedding was a grand party for all who attended but Yelena and yourself. A few soft, friendly smiles shared between you both and a quick "I do" but neither of you seemed happy about the arrangement. Unlike Yelena, you had enough energy to smile and look like you were enjoying yourself, it wasn't the first time you had to attend an event you wished to avoid.

To both of your relief, night came quickly and the wedding wrapped up eventually. You were staying 1 night at your wife's kingdom before the two of you would make the travel back to your kingdom.

"You may take the bed" the Russian spoke, breaking the silence in her bedroom. It was the first time you heard her accent, it was thick but you liked it.

"Oh, please, don't be silly. I'll take the settee" you replied. "This is your kingdom, your bed" you added.

"You're my guest, it's only right for you to have the bed"

"Wife..technically…we'd share the bed but I feel that both of us didn't like this arrangement. So to save an argument, I'll take the settee. When we return to my kingdom, we shall take turns. Does that seem fair?"

The blonde didn't say a word in reply, she nodded before excusing herself to change into her night gown.

You lay awake thinking of this new life your parents married you into. It was clear the woman you married was not a fan of you just as much as you were of her.

"Did your father force you to marry as well?" Yelena's voice broke your train of thought.

"Yes. I mean no offence by my answer, but I did not wish for this" you replied in a soft tone.

"It's okay" you heard the woman sit up in her bed, "I didn't want to get married at all" she admits. You took the opportunity to sit up and face her for the late night conversation. Looking at her, she seemed different than before.

"Do you not believe in love?" You asked.

"I have no reason to believe that love is real" the blonde replied with a hint of sadness in her voice. "Love is all around you, your parents love you, your sister loves you" you reminded her.

"That's not what I meant. Have you ever met your person? The one you would do anything for? How are we supposed to love freely now? We are in an arranged marriage, do you know how badly it would look if it was known that one of us was fooling with somebody else?" Frustration filled her voice, the same frustration you had expressed to your father when he told you that you'd be marrying somebody you'd never met.

"No, but I believe that love comes unexpectedly, my parents married just like us but they found love in each other over time an-"

"If you think I'm going to fall in love with you over years of this joke of a marriage, you are wrong. I am happy on my own and I hope that you will understand that" Yelena snapped, interrupting you as she jumped out of bed and grabbed her robe before turning to you, "I will play the role of your wife when needed but I do not wish to know you outside of that" she added before leaving the room, the door slamming shut.

----

The next day, the only time Yelena would talk to you was when others were around and when you were both alone, it was silent. She was mad but so were you, you just had a different way of dealing with it. The journey back to your kingdom was silent, only words were spoken to the guards that accompanied that two of you, Yelena could barely look at you and when she did, all you could see was anger.

Once you both arrived at your kingdom, you requested that the guest room would be made up for your wife, explaining to your mother that you planned on doing things differently and that you wanted to give the Russian space and time to process things.

"I thought you might find it a better fit if you had your own room" you spoke to her, breaking the almost endless silence between you two. Yelena finally looked at you for longer than a second, "You do not have to do anything that you don't want too. If you rather eat your meals alone, that is okay. You are free to make this your home as well, as hard as I know this is not your true home, I am glad to have you here" you added.

"Thank you" she replied. You gave her a light nod, "if you need anything, I will be in my painting room" you turned to walk away.

"You paint?" Yelena asked, stopping you from taking another step. You turned around to look at her once more, "I do, do you like art?" you questioned.

"I also paint, sometimes" she replied with the smallest smile tugged at her lips.

"Would you like to join me?" you asked.

Yelena took a moment to think about it before nodding slightly, "sure" she spoke before following behind you. It may take some time but you hoped that with each passing day, Yelena would open up to you more and maybe a friendship could form.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #yelena belova #fanfiction #marvel #yelena belova x reader

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fedonciadale · 3 years

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Hi there! :) Just read a very good post of you explaining how Fire is much as a threat as Ice and Dany is not a savior at all. In that post you mention you belive Aegon V woke up the Others again by trying to birth the dragons in Summerhall. Do you have a meta/post about how Aegon V did this or could you elaborate this idea more? I got super interested. Thank you! And sorry my bad english.

Hi there!

Don't feel bad about your English. It's not my native tongue either.

I made a search for Summerhall and I am even more convinced now that my theory is true:

"He is always with the red woman, and . . . he is not in his right mind, I fear. This talk of a stone dragon . . . madness, I tell you, sheer madness. Did we learn nothing from Aerion Brightfire, from the nine mages, from the alchemists? Did we learn nothing from Summerhall? No good has ever come from these dreams of dragons, I told Axell as much. My way was better. Surer. And Stannis gave me his seal, he gave me leave to rule. The Hand speaks with the king's voice."

(ASOS, Davos III)

So here Summerhall is named in a series of events that were meant to wake dragons, and the man who speaks here, Axell Florent wants to prevent Stannis from doing the same mistake (Stannis who will at some point burn Shireen).

Dany knows that Rhaegar was born at Summerhall:

Viserys had spoken of Rhaegar's birth only once. Perhaps the tale saddened him too much. "It was the shadow of Summerhall that haunted him, was it not?"

"Yes. And yet Summerhall was the place the prince loved best. He would go there from time to time, with only his harp for company. Even the knights of the Kingsguard did not attend him there. He liked to sleep in the ruined hall, beneath the moon and stars, and whenever he came back he would bring a song. When you heard him play his high harp with the silver strings and sing of twilights and tears and the death of kings, you could not but feel that he was singing of himself and those he loved."

(ASOS, Daenerys IV)

We know that Duncan, the prince of Dragonflies, Aegon V's eldest son is connected to Summerhall:

The dwarf woman studied her with dim red eyes. "I see you," she whispered. "I see you, wolf child. Blood child. I thought it was the lord who smelled of death . . ." She began to sob, her little body shaking. "You are cruel to come to my hill, cruel. I gorged on grief at Summerhall, I need none of yours. Begone from here, dark heart. Begone!"

(ASOS, Arya VIII)

And Maester Aemon connects Summerhall with the waking of Dragons and Rhaegar's prophecy dreams:

On Braavos, it had seemed possible that Aemon might recover. Xhondo's talk of dragons had almost seemed to restore the old man to himself. That night he ate every bite Sam put before him. "No one ever looked for a girl," he said. "It was a prince that was promised, not a princess. Rhaegar, I thought . . . the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King's Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet. What fools we were, who thought ourselves so wise! The error crept in from the translation. Dragons are neither male nor female, Barth saw the truth of that, but now one and now the other, as changeable as flame. The language misled us all for a thousand years. Daenerys is the one, born amidst salt and smoke. The dragons prove it." Just talking of her seemed to make him stronger. "I must go to her. I must. Would that I was even ten years younger."

(AFFC, Samwell IV)

And Barristan Selmy also remembers Summerhall:

All three of the sons of the fifth Aegon had wed for love, in defiance of their father's wishes. And because that unlikely monarch had himself followed his heart when he chose his queen, he allowed his sons to have their way, making bitter enemies where he might have had fast friends. Treason and turmoil followed, as night follows day, ending at Summerhall in sorcery, fire, and grief.

(ADWD, The Kingbreaker)

In the Hedge Knight we learn that Summerhall was the seat of Maekar, father to Aerion Brightflame and to Aegon V.

In the Mystery Knight we learn that Aegon V had a dragon's egg at Summerhall.

In the World book the tragedy of Summerhall is told very briefly:

What became of the dream of dragons was a grievous tragedy born in a moment of joy. In the fateful year 259 AC, the king summoned many of those closest to him to Summerhall, his favorite castle, there to celebrate the impending birth of his first great-grandchild, a boy later named Rhaegar, to his grandson Aerys and granddaughter Rhaella, the children of Prince Jaehaerys.

It is unfortunate that the tragedy that transpired at Summerhall left very few witnesses alive, and those who survived would not speak of it. A tantalizing page of Gyldayn's history—surely one of the very last written before his own death—hints at much, but the ink that was spilled over it in some mishap blotted out too much.

...the blood of the dragon gathered in one... ...seven eggs, to honor the seven gods, though the king's own septon had warned... ...pyromancers... ...wild fire... ...flames grew out of control...towering...burned so hot that... ...died, but for the valor of the Lord Comman...

So, we know that Aegon V was hard pressed in his last years, and that he wanted dragons to bend the nobles to his will. All his reforms had been for naught and he had lost the nobles' support when he let his sons choose their own brides.

I would also say that the name Summerhall is a big give away. It certainly alludes to Summer as the opposite of the impending winter. Since Stannis and Aegon seem to have parallels (both have a common man as advisor and both try to wake dragons) and the very first allusion to the madness of Summerhall is in Davos' PoV and told by a man who wants to prevent Stannis from making the same mistake I think it is not too far a stretch to guess that Aegon wanted a human sacrifice. And that the Targs were not gathered to celebrate Rhaegar's birth but to sacrifice him.

Duncan the Tall probably saved some of the royal family and it surely was a tragedy if he had to break his oath as Kingsguard and go against the wishes of his king, the man who had been his friend, and his squire. It sort of reminds me of Obi-wan Kenobi and Anakin, the master and the rebellious apprentice who wants power and burns as a punishment.....

I don't want this to be true. I like Egg /Aegon V in the novellas. I love the relationship of Duncan and Egg. But sadly enough the evidence points that way.

It might be that Bloodraven was behind it though. That he sowed the idea in Aegon's head. Bloodraven was already banished at that time and if I'm right about his motives he wants immortality and to be in charge again. And we know that he can manipulate the dreams of people who are susceptible for that.

If the burst of Fire magic in Summerhall set the scales between Fire and Ice magic into swinging, then it was at that moment that the Others woke again. I think it makes sense, seeing that they have gradually gained power up until the time the books begin.

TLDR: Summerhall shows the opposite to winter in the name. The tragedy is first mentioned in Davos' PoV by a man who wants to prevent Stannis from trying to wake dragons "from stone". From what we know, Summerhall had a high blood price, that in itself might point towards blood magic and possibly human sacrifice.

The timeline fits as well and we have some hints in the Dunk and Egg novellas. And there is the parallel to Star Wars - and the story of Obi-wan and Anakin was already part of the Original Trilogy and we know that GRRM loves Star Wars.

So, there you are! Thanks for the ask!

#anon ask #ASOIAF #Tragedy of Summerhall #Aegon V #duncan the tall #Ice and Fire Magic #Summerhall as the magic moment that awoke the others #Bloodraven #I think Bloodraven might be the one of the worst villains yet #stannis baratheon #Stannis' temptation #Blood magic and human sacrifice #I don't want this to be true #But I think this is what happened

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Droit du seigneur

Warnings: noncon, fingering, oral, cuckolding (i guess)

This is dark!king!Thor x reader in an established relationship and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The king claims his right to the first night.

Note: A medieval king Thor fic because I couldn’t help myself. Also because @lokislastlove is insatiable.

I hope y’all enjoy!

Let me know what you think! (Like, reblog, reply, leave some words, a gif, nonsensical emojis)

The tables filled quickly with the rowdy weddings guests. Some familiar, others strangers. Even a peasant’s wedding could draw the hungry and ale-starved for miles around. The lord had offered a boar for the event and roasted hare and chicken filled out the platters. It was a meal unlike any you expected at your very own wedding.

You sat at the head of the long table with your new husband, Garold. His father was a smith and he expected to take on the hammer when the time came. It was a step up for any farmer’s daughter. You wouldn’t have to work the land, nor would your children. They could learn their father’s craft or hope for a marriage even better than your own.

You were nervous. You had been for days. Garold was pleasant and sweet but to think tomorrow would see you as a real wife. It was a lot. You’d be a mother yourself soon enough just like the woman who had helped you into your dyed skirts that morning. The one who smiled at you through your vows as you looked around in doubt.

Garold squeezed your hand as it rested against the edge of the table. You dropped the morsel of chicken you’d forgotten about and smiled at him. He smiled back as you wiped your fingers on a cloth.

“Did I not tell you how splendid you look?” He asked.

“Only a dozen times,” You inhaled as you tried to settle your nerves. “Though I do not complain for it.”

At the end of the third table, a group of men drank and shouted in ribaldry. Like many of the guests, you’d never seen them until that day. They’d be gone before the morning, you were certain.

The sky dimmed and you fidgeted on the bench. Your father stood and called for the gifts; the last ritual of the day. Your mother came forward first, your dowry carefully announced and already awaiting you in your new homestead. Then Garold’s parents presented a set of silver dishes. Then several neighbours prized you with livestock and other homely goods. Several drifters offered their coin or some whittled figure.

The process was tedious and you found your voice hoarse from thanking your guests over and over. Garold yawned and shifted beside you. The tables weren’t so loud as before as the drink and time began to wear upon the diners as they picked at bare bones and the last dregs of ale.

A single figure walked up between the second and third table. He wore a plain black cloak and stood before you and your husband patiently. The crowd hushed as they noticed the wraith-like man.

Garold straightened up and nodded to the man. "Sir."

"My master did not want his gift to go forgotten," The man said as he pulled out a purse that jingled. "Gold and good tidings to the man and wife."

"Many thanks," Garold said as you smiled at the stranger. "Your master?"

Another figure rose. A taller man with wide shoulders and golden hair combed into a tie. He walked proudly forward and a tension filled the air as whispers began. You'd noticed the man several times throughout the night. His eyes were often pointed in your direction despite the distance and his voice had risen above others in booming laughs.

"Yes, his majesty hopes you are very happy and would bless your future family." The man continued as the other approached.

"You might desist, Fandral," The large man neared. "I might send my well wishes myself."

You tried to hold your smile but the way the man, the king, looked in your direction had you squirming. A man had never looked at you like that.

“Your majesty,” Garold pulled you up to your feet as he bowed awkwardly and you attempted a curtsy. “You would attend our wedding?”

“I was at the Lord of Montern’s castle and I heard word there was a celebration. I can never turn my nose up at festivities.” The king declared as every guest rose.

Two men walked up between tables as your other guests watched in communal shock.

“My wife and I thank you, your majesty,” Garold trembled nervously as his hand lingered on your arm. “And we hope you are contented in our fare.”

“Most excellent. A king can always find delight at a wedding.” King Thor of Asgardia smirked. “As decreed by law, he is owed proper accommodations; ale, board, and that fragrant bread. As fine as any meal.”

“Your majesty,” Garold nodded proudly.

“And as it has also been written, a king might claim his right to the first night.” All went quiet and you felt as if you would choke. You blinked.

“I don’t-- your majesty, I think I misunderstand.” Garold said.

“As I am here to see your union, I, as your king, may expect to bless it.” He tilted his head as Garold’s grip grew firm on your arm. “That he might see the bride to her first night in service.”

“It is an old law,” Your husband said. “I would think it forgotten.”

“But it is ever written,” Thor countered. “And I did travel far to see you wed and would require comfort for the night. I am you king and it is still the law.”

You looked at Garold as you realised what the king meant. You frowned as you knew there would be no argument.

“This can’t--” You whispered but you lost as your husband drew away, unable to meet your eye. “No,” You spoke louder, “No, you can’t.”

"I can't?" The king chuckled and signaled with two fingers.

The two men who loomed by the tables came forward. As they approached you cowered. You were seized by both arms as you tried to retreat. You were dragged around the table as you called out to Garold.

"Good man," Thor called to your husband. "I would require a bed for the night as well. You would show me to my lodgings at once."

"I…" Garold wrung his hands and swayed. "I must remain and see to the rest of my guests, my-my-my cousin, Godwin, will show you to… to it."

You watched the skinny boy, Garold's own apprentice in the smithy. The slender adolescent made the king seem even bigger as he neared. Your husband gestured him away and still would not meet your gaze.

"Garold!" You cried out as you were turned away. "Garold, please you must--"

"Go." Garold hissed. "Quietly, woman." He blinked as his nostrils flared and he stared at the tables of guests. "Now."

"Be calm, dear," The king bent to whisper to you as he slapped your ass lasciviously. "You will not be calling his name upon the morrow."

You squeaked and stumbled as his men wrenched you forward. Thor's hand rescinded as he chuckled. Godwin glanced over his shoulder every other step as he led the men past your father's barn.

You kicked as you got closer to the house Garold had built after his proposal. The furniture was crafted by the men in his family and all was ready for your domesticity.

Thor shouldered past his men and Godwin barely cleared his path. The king opened the door and stopped to look back. He flicked away your husband's cousin with two fingers then snapped them to beckon his men forward.

"Stake your watch here," Thor bid. "Fandral, send to Lord Montern that I shall return with the sun. I shall try to be…" He grabbed your arm and nearly took you off your feet. "Timely, but no promises."

He shoved you ahead of him and snapped the door shut swiftly. You struggled to break free of his grasp and he easily spun you to face him. He clung to both your arms as he squeezed tightly.

"I watched you all night. It is so endearing how you gaze at your commoner husband." He sneered. "But I thought your touch better suited a king."

"Please, your majesty, I am a smith's wife. I vowed to serve him and no other."

"You are sworn first to your God and king. It is written that my will is that of God." He bent to look in the face. "So you are bound to me above all."

"Please," You quavered.

"Come on," He threw you back, "The bedchamber."

You staggered onward, your legs threatening to crumple with each step. You fell against the door and your hand slipped past the handle. You couldn't go on, you couldn't.

The king's boots caused the floor to groan and he pressed himself to you. He reached to handle and lifted it. The door moved and you were only kept from tipping over as Thor's arm wrapped around you.

"You are… defiant. Especially for a peasant." He remarked as he urged you on, the door shut with a metal clink. "I've attended the marriages of dukes, earls, and even princes and not one bride had caught my eye as you have."

"I don't-- I don't understand--" You tore away and turned on your heel.

"I will help you understand." He grinned. "You may begin by undressing."

He untied the neck of his cloak and swept it away. He draped it over the bench against the wall and sat. He lifted his foot onto his knee and began to unlace his boot.

"Let me tell you about myself, dear," He pulled loose the ties. "I do not often repeat myself and when I do, I am not so kind as the first time."

He dropped his boot onto the floor and switched legs. You bent and slipped your slippers off. They were hand-sewn by your mother.

You stood and swayed on your feet. You could not unlace your dress upon your own. You hesitated and reached helplessly over your shoulders.

"Come," He unbuckled his belt and placed it aside as he beckoned you near. "I will help." You sniffed and took your first shaky step. "There is much I shall help you with… that I must guide you in."

He turned you and tugged at the back of your dress until it slackened.

"Tell me, has your husband even kissed you yet?"

"Your majesty…" You breathed. "Just upon the cheek."

"I always heard peasants lived as animals," You dress drooped forward and you drew away. "What else would you do without gold?"

You were quiet, unsure how to answer. You let your bodice slump and you shimmied out of your skirts. You folded your dress over the chest along the other wall. You shed your petticoat and rolled your stockings down your leg. You wore only the short shift that ended just below your ass.

"That too," He said. "The longer you play at this, the longer I will play with you, dear."

You raised your chin and swallowed. You bunched the fabric of your shift and ripped it over your head. You tossed it aside and glared at him as your heart raced. To be bare in front of a man, in front of a king…

"I realise," He rose and pushed down his trousers. He piled them on his tunic and ran his hand over the crotch if his shorts. "You are unused to the presence of a king, the respects owed. I daresay you've rarely stood near a measly earl. Even so, I do trust you can listen. Why, dear, nobility does hunger for obedience over niceties."

"Your majesty," You gritted through your teeth. Perhaps if you bided him with bitten tongue, it might pass swifter.

"To think a woman should enter a marriage and not know what pleasures should be found in a marital bed," He shoved his shorts down and your eyes went to the ceiling. "You will thank me for I have no doubt that fool you call your husband will disappoint you for the rest of your life."

He neared and brushed by you. His hand grazed your hip as he did. You turned as he climbed up on the bed and fell onto his back. His thick cock bobbed and you couldn't help but stare.

"On the bed," He wriggled as he settled onto the mattress.

You went to the bed and got up on your knees. He looked at you and snickered.

"On your feet. Come, stand over me." He waited as you stood on the bed and he grasped your ankle. "Here." He patted beside his head.

You paused and stared as you pushed your legs together. If you did as he said, he would see all of you; more than anyone ever had.

"Shall I repeat myself?" He asked dangerously.

You shuddered and stepped forward. You caught yourself against the wall as you lifted you foot over his head and faced the top of the bed.

"Down. To your knees." He commanded.

You gulped and reached to brace yourself with the wall. You got down and felt his breath along your thigh. You winced and he caught your hips.

"I would taste you… I wonder if you taste as sweet as a duchess." He purred as his hand slid to your thighs and he pulled you lower. "Perhaps, sweeter."

He forced you down until his hot breath was on your cunt and you were startled by the coolness that dipped between your folds. He purred and sent a buzz through you. He dragged his tongue up and down your sex as his hands clung to your thighs. You pushed on the low frame of the bed but could not get away from him.

His fingers spread over your thigh as his other hand gripped your hips and he rocked you. The messy noise of his lapping encased you in heat and you closed your eyes in shame. It shouldn't have felt so good. Nothing had ever felt that good.

He hummed and your thighs shook as you felt an odd tickle in your stomach. You gripped the bed frame as your other hand went to his hair and your fingers entwined in his thick locks. You mewled pathetically as you failed to fight the winding spring inside of you.

You let out a raspy moan and pushed your head back. Your breath caught in your throat as you went silent and a tingling wave flowed down your spine and legs. The sudden release left you weak and panting as you hunch over the head board.

Thor nudged you back and wiggled his head out from between your legs. He looked up at you as he licked his lips and purred.

"Sweet indeed," He caressed your sides. "Move back, kitten. Down by my legs."

You blinked at him, stunned, and he urged you off of him. You got to your knees, unsteadily, and swung your leg back. You numbly moved down the mattress and nearly fell between his legs. He chuckled as you righted yourself, your eyes floating above him as you tried not to look.

"Put your hand on me, kitten," Hi hand crawled down his stomach and his fingertips danced along his pelvis. "I will tell you how to do it."

You batted your lashes and willed yourself to listen. Let it be over quickly then you could go back to Garold. Garold! How would you face him after this? Would he want you still? Yet, his resistance had been paltry… but what could you say to a king?

Your fingers brushed the smooth skin of the king's member and your eyes were drawn down without thought. You closed your hand around his thick girth and he sighed. His hand slapped the bed beside him.

"Very good, kitten," He goaded. "Now just move your hand up and down, hold me firmly so I do not slip."

You shivered and slid you hand down his length and back up. He spasmed with a grunt. You stopped and he peered down at you.

"You may proceed until I say otherwise, sweet maiden." He commanded and you recoiled at the pet name. Maiden but not for long.

Your hand moved down again, then up, down, up, down. He twitched in your grasp and you felt the dampness between your legs thicken. Your core thrummed as you watched the motion of your hand.

"Faster. Hold me tighter," He bid in a snarl-like voice. "That's it, kitten. I will show you how to please your husband." He reached down to wrap his hands around yours and lead you. "Though I think you might please me best."

He urged you on and on and then abruptly stopped. He tore your hand from his member as his chest puffed and he pushed his head down in great strain. Slowly he exhaled.

"Very close, my sweet maiden," He intoned. "But I will not be finished with you so quick."

His hands brushed over his pelvis as he wiggled his hips. He raised his arms and bent them behind his head.

"Come over me again," He said. "Lower yourself until I am sheathed in you."

Your eyes rounded and you gaped at him.

"Would you rather I have your mouth first?" He taunted.

You snapped your mouth shut and stood as unevenly as before. You moved your feet on either side of him and eased onto your knees. He tip prodded your cunt and sent a thrill through you.

"You will put me inside of you, kitten," He snickered. "Slowly if you dislike pain."

You lifted yourself and reached below you. You grasped his member and angled it up against your folds and slid it back to your entrance. You bent your legs as he poked against you painfully.

You stretched around him and cried out as just his head felt too much. He jerked his hips below you, watching you with his cool blue eyes as your face contorted.

"More." He said plainly. "Until you have me completely."

You whimpered and sank down on him further. You exclaimed as you constricted around him, unable to go any deeper.

He pulled his hands out from beneath his head and gripped your hips. He forced you down until you hollered. You fell forward weakly but he held himself inside of you.

"Sit up," He ordered. "You can do it, kitten."

"It hurts…" You muttered as you trembled but did as he said. "Please…"

"It won't for long," His thumbs ran along your skin and he tilted your hips so he poked deeper. "Move like this."

You followed his motion and rocked atop him slowly. Your bud rubbed against his pelvis and nipped at the agony within. Your walls slickened around him and his hand drifted up your stomach.

"Just like that," He purred. "You might go faster as you see fit."

He cupped your tits and flicked your nipples with his thumbs. His eyes followed his hands and then lingered on the joining of your bodies. You grabbed his thick forearms as you sped up, chasing the cloud that had begun to dull the pain.

"Mmm, oh they did speak true when they said you peasants were little more than animals," He growled. "Look at you, kitten."

You groaned and but your lip as you tried to ignore him. You just wanted the release which dangled before you. Your grip tightened on his arms and you bucked atop him frantically. You were almost there.

"Whoa," He twisted his arms from your grasp and stilled your hips. "Naughty kitten."

He lifted you off of him until you were on your knees.

"Turn around," He directed.

You got once more to your feet. Your body seemed to move on its own whim as you turned and squatted over him again. He drew you back and guided his member back to your entrance. He impaled you entirely and let out a long groan. Your legs strained as you tried to keep your balance.

He lifted you then brought you back down. You moaned as he glided in and out of you. You reached down to lean on your hands as he led your body and bounced you a top him, your flesh slapping loudly. He groaned as his hands slipped to your ass and your muscles burned as you carried the motion, your climax rising even quicker than before.

You could barely keep going as you grasped the heavenly release within and your core bloomed. You let out a beastly snarl and sped up as you rode out the peak and slowed as you struggled to catch your breath. Thor kept one hand on your ass as his other went to your hip and he held you down, your walls clenching around him hungrily.

He pushed his hands in the crook of your bent legs and drew you back to lay against him. He turned you onto your side as he hooked his arm under your knee and his other arm wrapped around you from below. He thrust into you without relent, his sweaty torso flush to your back.

His hand covered your tit and he squeezed as he sped up and a deep growl began in his chest. You clawed at his hand and arched your back as he pounded into you. You could feel it again, that magical sensation that swelled within you. You cried out as you were once more flooded with ecstasy.

His motion turned to deep, jutting thrusts and he held you tighter as he pushed your leg even higher. Your muscles tensed and he snarled against the crown of your head. He grunted as he quaked and you felt a new warmth within you, this one slicker.

He spasmed and slowed until he was still. He went limp as he let your leg fall and he draped his arm over you as his hot breath fluttered over you. He hummed as he inhaled your scent, the air thick with sweat. He nuzzled your head and rolled his hips until you murmured.

“Sweet little wife, aren’t you?” He whispered. “But not very loyal.”

#thor #dark!thor #dark thor #thor x reader #dark thor x reader #dark!thor x reader #medieval au #au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #king!thor

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nissakii · 3 years

Text

Wedding Deal - Chapter 01 [Iwaizumi x Reader]

This is the story of how I traded freedom by becoming his fake wife”

– Y/N

Tip: If you are using Chrome there is a little add-on called InteractiveFics with that the story is much more vivid since Y/N will be replaced with the name you type in. Give it a try you won’t regret it~

Also if you want to read the stories early, they appear much earlier on our blog: nissakii.com, for those of you who like to read ahead since we don't upload on tumblr the exact time of the release.

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If there was one thing I hated the most, it was those banquets they held and princesses of each province having to attend. Even the ones that weren't supposed to become heirs or weren't of any importance like me.

I am the 3rd daughter and therefore I wasn’t necessarily needed at this event, yet the only comfort I had were one girl to my left and other to my right as both of them unlike me who was watched by my mother strictly, stretched out their legs in a very unlady-like way while one of them chewed curiously on one cupcake that seemed to be from another province.

"Do you guys get privileged food like that, oh wow I never saw something like that!", the one almost two years older than me said while taking another bite and leaning back before stretching straight and being reminded that this was an official meeting as she nudged her cousin to do the same.

"Hiyori, sit straight, and don't glare, you know our family will scold us if they take any photos!", Chiaki said while adjusting her dress that slipped away a bit on her chest and legs.

"So what? I don't care. We are not even royals or nobles unlike Y/N whose mother is going to devour her if she doesn't sit like a jerk- '', she was cut off.

"No cussing!", Chiaki shoved the weird cupcake into Hiyori's mouth and adjusted her dress in her stead.

I sighed deeply, "how many times do I have to tell you guys, I am just a princess by name, I am not important. Also Chiaki sometimes you behave more like a princess than I do, don't talk yourself down", and I regretted immediately saying that as she had that smile on her face while her eyes wanted to wring my neck.

"Ah must be nice to be a royal saying such things huh? Unlike us pebbles who were invited by your generosity", some men were staring at us and I felt uncomfortable.

"Yeah, nice to be a rich kid, huh. If I were you I would have bought all these shoes, girl and left them in debt. Wait you are a pebble, I am not one", Hiyori wiped her face and stared at her shoes, "I gotta get some new ones though."

"You got some this week", her cousin still smiled and even the men probably felt her annoyed vein popping from that mischievous grin.

"And?", was the cue that pulled the last string before I caught Chiaki in my arms in order to avoid her from choking her own cousin.

"Y/N let go", she muttered and despite that I sometimes feared her, this time it felt like I was holding a child, thank goodness I was sitting in the midst.

"Okay, Timeout prince number five just entered. Guess he is late", Hiyori pointed at a man with spiky hair, clothes in a navy blue suit with gold accents, black gloves and shoes as his gaze swept around the room before I felt Chiaki shift in my arms making herself comfy on me instead of backing off as she and her cousin analysed the guy.

"Who is he?", the one in my arms asked and Hiyori was much quicker than me answering.

"He is from the province of Aoba Johsai, 2nd Prince Iwaizumi Hajime. Despite that he hates events like this everyone needs to attend them. I heard the first prince already arrived too. But Johsai is really far away. Heard he came to find a suitor on his mother's behalf but shoved off marrying for years now", both of us stared at her and she shrugged.

"Okay I am the rich kid but how-"

"I got my ressources girl", she winked and stuck out her tongue as Chiaki shoved in a snack for her to eat casually.

"Our parents will kill us", Chiaki muttered and I nodded as Hiyori shrugged.

"I already had to attend the other event so I can roam around", but the freedom didn't last long before a tall and well-built guy blocked our guy with a stoic face and olive-colored hair he stretched out his hand like it was taught in etiquette class and asked Hiyori for a dance.

Chiaki immediately sat up like she was supposed to and we saw how Hiyori ignored the man at first.

"Lady, I may have not asked in a proper way but I want to take your next dance", the already deep voice of prince Ushijima had a slightly rough and strained undertone.

"Fine", she said after letting him stand for some minutes and took his hand as she whispered, "he thinks I am a lady pfft guess he doesn't know I am a commoner girl, let me teach that rich boy a lesson."

"And there she goes", Chiaki muttered and sighed worried about her cousin, "I guess she will be the one who gets a lesson, she got Ushijima of all people."

"What are you gonna do if they find out you are not royalty?", I asked not having thought this through when I invited them, my mother doesn't know that I befriended commoners yet she didn't ask for their rank this time.

"I guess I will ditch Hiyori and scram. The food is weird anyways and the people are super stiff, like look at that brunette guy he looks like he would kill someone in this room any time soon", she laughed.

"So you are a commoner", another deep voice let my heart drop to my feet and my guts twist as I held my breath, I didn't look up but a shadow was looming over us before I saw black shoes in front of me.

As my gaze wandered from the navy blue suit to a pair of olive-eyes my hands started sweating and I couldn't bring out a word as I saw the 2nd prince of Aoba Johsai leaning down right in front of me.

"W-Who?", I could only bring out and look away.

"Not you, I know you from other events, Princess Y/N but", his eyes wandered to the girl next to me as he fixed her and she smiled widely, if anyone else looked at her you would think she was not having a single problem.

"Me?", she asked in a friendly tone, one leg over the other.

"Yes. The one who called the first prince stiff and a murder", his gaze turned into a slight glare before I acted out of fear standing up and taking his arm as he looked at me surprised.

"M-May I dance with you Prince Hajime?", I stuttered my face red yet I feared if Chiaki was caught being a commoner and badmouthing the first prince that she wouldn't be simply lectured, no, worse....

"W-Wait, but-" as we turned around she was gone and the last thing I saw was that someone followed her into the crowd and I wanted to do the same before I felt a strong grip on my hand.

"Didn't you want to dance?", the man with a rough voice and the olive-eyes fixed on me didn't let go.

"U-Uhm-"

"Or did you want to trick me into one to shield your friend?", he tilted his head with slight disappointment on his face.

Okay Y/N... you have to keep calm, one dance it takes one dance and a bit of social distraction for him to let it go…

I tried to smile a bit concerned and nodded.

"I wanted to dance with you, yet I was afraid you would deny my wish since I asked you... it's against etiquette rules to ask the man to dance so-", he scratched his head with his other hand while not letting go of me.

"Well, if you wanted to dance, I don't see a problem nor would I tell anyone about something as strict as etiquette rules. I ever wondered if women actually liked to get asked out for a dance...", he muttered a slight shade of rose on his cheek while he stared intently.

I was also flustered by his honest answer.

"I-uh... I guess it is nice sometimes...but it feels also... unfair...", my gaze wandered to my mother who glared at me and signed for me to grasp myself and not slouch which I did.

"Even you", his eyes followed mine to my mother,"I guess we should make this a good one, and enjoy it while we can", he understood immediately and as he looked back there was a slight grin on his face.

"Just to tell you I am not much of a dancer unlike what rumors say about Hajime Iwaizumi", he muttered.

I laughed a bit and positioned myself as he held out his hand, "I guess it makes it much easier for me to easen up then."

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jimlingss · 3 years

Text

Moirai [5]

Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

➜ Words: 5k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

“Thank you for inviting me, Lady Anastasia.” Lucienne sits across the rounded table from you, oblivious to the blossom petals that have drifted down and tangled itself into her hair. The tea party invitation rests beside her teacup, neat and crisp like she held and opened it with the utmost care. “Yes, thank you.” The other lady beside her pipes up. “It’s an absolute honour.” “The Royal gardens are lovely this season,” another adds. “I’m glad I can enjoy it like this.” “It’s not a problem, everyone.” A friendly smile stretches across your face. “It can get quite lonely being the only lady in the castle, so your company is welcome.” More like Lady Devon and your other tutors was pretty damn insistent that you build a good reputation and inner circle, but whatever. What they don’t know, won’t hurt them. But you do remember that in the original game, Anastasia used this opportunity to shame the heroine. She invited her to a tea party and made snide remarks about how she danced with the Prince. Of course it seems petty now but it’s understandable that Anastasia resented the heroine so much. Even if she didn’t intend it, she humiliated Anastasia by stealing her fiancé. And the fact of the matter is that you’ll also become the laughingstock for what she’ll do. “If I may ask, have you started the wedding arrangements yet, Lady Anastasia?” You nearly choke on your tea, sputtering for a moment until you’re able to set the cup down on the saucer and cough into your napkin. The ladies around the table appear concerned, but you plaster on another smile. “Well, there’s been no discussion yet. The Royal family and the Devereux house are in no rush. There’s still quite a bit of time, so who knows what could happen.” “What could happen?” One of them catches on quick and you cordially nod. “The engagement was made when both Prince Jungkook and I were very young, but now that we are older, we can voice our own opinions on the matter.” You choose your words carefully and your smile widens. “I am not opposed if changes are made. If the leaders of the empire cannot exercise their own freedoms, then how can the people?” They nod in agreeance, a few in awe at your deep thought process. “That is very mature of you, Lady Anastasia.” You laugh stiffly and lift your tea cup for another sip. “Oh, but the Crown Prince is so wonderful.” You choke. Again. You wonder if you’re going to die at this tea party from the warm liquid constantly going down the wrong pipe. “I am sure he wouldn’t change his mind with how lovely you are, Lady Anastasia.” The girl beside you smiles, laying it on thick to win your favour. “You two are a very fitting couple.” “I agree.” Lucy smiles softly. “Prince Jungkook is very courteous.” “And very majestic.” You remember when you dueled with Jungkook, he lost within a minute. He threw a tantrum in the following days and gave you the silent treatment. Or that time you went horseback riding, you decided to race each other and he fell off his own horse into mud and started crying. Uh-huh. Majestic indeed. You chalk up your wheeze to nothing and dab the corner of your mouth with the tablecloth napkin. “Yes, well, Jungkook will make a fine King someday.” “And you’ll make a fine Queen,” a soft-spoken voice pipes up and your eyes connect to Lucy’s. Unlike the others surrounding you, you know her words are genuinely spoken and you shift uncomfortably in your seat. “I’m not so sure about that,” you honestly admit as you fidget with the edge of the porcelain saucer. “A queen must be kind and generous and know the suffering of the people. I’m afraid I have a lot left to learn.” Your gaze meets Lucy’s again. Her smile is all too gentle for high society and its naturally cunning, heartless nature. She’s awfully naive, but that aside, you know her benevolence will make her beloved in the empire. // Once the tea party is over, you’re able to breathe a sigh of relief. Christ, thank god that’s over. You escort most of the ladies towards their carriages, bidding them goodbye with polite waves as the palace servants clear the dishes, chairs and table away from the garden. And you turn around to head back to your room to sneak in a break, but your name is frantically called— “Lady Anastasia!” You turn and a girl in her purple, simple gown comes barrelling down the open hall. Her chest rises and falls, completely out of breath even when she only ran two meters. It makes you laugh unabashedly. “Is everything okay? You don’t need to run.” She hunches over, lungs probably burning, but she fixes her posture a moment later. “S-Sorry, my lady.” “Anastasia is fine.” Lucy nods. “I...just wanted to thank you again. I was very excited when I received your invitation. It’s an honour….Anastasia.” “There’s no reason to thank me so much.” You walk alongside her. Your hat with pinned pink peonies, matching your gown, shields the sun away from your face. “It’s just that I don’t get invited to these sort of events often considering….considering I’m just a baron’s daughter and adopted one at that.” She doesn’t need to tell you — you know her backstory well. You’ve played through it from her perspective. Her father abandoned her mother who died of illness when she was five and she was picked up on the streets by the sympathetic baron. It seems like every character in this game has some tragic backstory. They are defining moments that make that person. But you suppose life itself is like that. “Can I give you some advice, Lucy?” you ask after a quiet moment and she nods. You stop walking and the girl halts beside you. “Your humility makes you likeable, but be careful not to self-deprecate yourself. Your worth is more than what you consider yourself to have.” Her eyes widen and you add, “Plus, it’s not good to thank a host more than once like they’ve done you a big favour because they’ll start to think you owe them for it.” Lucy nods and you smile, resuming your stroll. “I’ll be inviting you to more tea parties in the future.” “Thank—” She catches herself. “Yes, I will be looking forward to that.” A grin spreads into your cheeks. “On a different note, I never got to ask you how your dance was with Jungkook at the debutante ball.” “Oh, yes, the Prince was very kind. But I’m sorry if it was inappropriate, I know he’s your fiancé—” This time, your laugh is unrestrained. She looks up at you in surprise. “Do you think I’m getting jealous?” Lucy opens her mouth and then closes it, not sure what to say and you bat the air with your hand. “Jungkook is like a little brother to me.” If she was surprised before, now she looks entirely off guard. “It thought the Prince and you were the same age.” You laugh stiffly. “Yes, we are, but I guess that’s what childhood friends are like.” “Oh, I’ve never had a childhood friend.” “Have you ever had a friend?” Your eyes meet her’s and you smile. “Because I’d be happy to be your first.” The conversation soon ends and as Lucy walks away, you breathe another sigh of relief and pat yourself on the back at the positive interaction. Even if she’s just a countryside girl, it’s nerve-racking when you’re supposed to be the villainess. You like her and you even offered your friendship, but with each interaction, your demise is always lingering at the back of your head. “I didn’t take you for being such a mentor.” You whirl around, nearly startled to death by the voice and you discover a tall, dark-haired man leaning against the marble pillar with a sly smile. “How long have you been there?” Taehyung grins. “Not long. I was just passing by. It was a coincidence.” He turns in the direction where Lucy went. “I heard you had a tea party, how did it go?” “It was exhausting.” You stretch your arms over your head and walk over to lean against the stone ledge next to him. “I don’t think I’m quite fit for the palace life.” Taehyung smiles and you look up at him. “Are you going to the garden again?” He nods and there’s a strong urge to ask him if you can come along. Just for a small break before they find you and you’re swept up in another lesson. But you’re not sure if you should— “Would you like to come?” Taehyung asks the question for you and your eyes meet one another’s. There’s no one around. Not a soul in sight who could stop you from going or leaving. You know you should keep your distance from him. You know. But… “Okay.” You take him up on the offer, following after him, just for a moment of indulgence.

With the arrival of Spring also comes the Hunt. It’s a rather eventful time in the castle considering it's generally symbolic of the harvests of this year, thought to prevent famine if those attending can bring back large game. An irony that isn’t lost on you. But it’s an undoubtedly lively time and one that you don’t mind. “You better bring back a whole moose,” you mumble as you tie the blue ribbon on the belt of Jungkook’s armour, making sure it’s tight and secure. The ribbon is a gift of good luck and one of affection. You’re obligated to tie one for Jungkook considering you’re his fiancée. “I’ll bring back a dragon,” he declares brazingly and you lightly scoff. This is his second time participating after winning last year, but you remember he was practically shaking back then out of fear and pressure. “Okay then. Just make sure you don’t fall off your horse this time.” “That was only once!” You take a step back when you’re done tying the ribbon. “I should be the one going on the hunt instead of staying back for idle chit chat. I’m pretty sure I would be able to catch something bigger than you.” “Probably.” Jungkook grins. “You’re good enough with your sword to be a knight.” “They’d never let me.” You sigh. God knows your mother would be mortified and probably faint and die. But while staying back and waiting for the men to return with their kill is boring as hell, at least you’re removed from the pressure of having to hunt large prey in the first place. It’s a competition after all and one that can get quite competitive from your knowledge. You follow Jungkook to his prized white horse and watch him caress its muzzle. “If you win, you should give the prize to Lucy.” His brows furrow and he turns his head to you. “Lucienne? The girl I danced with at the ball? Why?” You shrug half-heartedly. “Because she has no one and I feel bad for her. I already have a few knights who are going to dedicate their game to me.” Jungkook hums, not thinking much about it. “Fine by me.” He puts his foot on the stirrup and swings himself over, sitting on top of the majestic horse. Preparations almost complete, you turn to the King who’s seated at the top of the stands in a throne-like chair. He looks across the field with an approving expression. Your parents are beside the King and you spare them a mere glance before turning away. You haven’t spoken to them since the end of the debutante ball and you don’t plan to. It might be childish to give them the silent treatment, but you wonder to what end they’ll try to force you. The attendant steps up. “Is everyone ready?” At that exact same moment, as if he was called upon, a familiar dark-haired man with eyes the hue of deep honey enters your peripheral vision. Taehyung emerges onto the field filled with knights on horses and soldiers in armour. His navy cape draped over his left shoulder sways with each movement, twinkling in the sunlight as if there were stars sewn into the fabric. He’s grasping onto a steel pole, a magical staff and his presence garners whispers from all. “Isn’t he the bastard son?” — “The first son of the King.” — “The one born from the maid.” They’re all startled to see him — the nobles sitting in the stands, women murmuring underneath their breaths, men watching with their eyes wide, knights and guards. And most of all, you’re stuck at a standstill. Heart thunderous in your ears — blood drained from your face — you can’t look away when all Taehyung is looking at is you. He comes close and his expression melts into a tender smile, a softened gaze when he reads your eyes’ fixation on him. Jungkook, on the other hand, grins and mounts off his horse. “Taehyung?!” The Prince welcomes his brother warmly — an action not unnoticed by the crowds watching. He hugs him and lets go a moment later. “What are you doing here?” “What can I say? I’m here to steal your victory.” The younger laughs and you can tell he’s genuinely excited. Jungkook’s cheeks are practically pink and bulging, and his eyes have brightened. “Do you want to put a bet on that?” “How much are you willing to wager?” Taehyung quips back. “My pride and dignity.” He scoffs playfully. “How about your private library collection?” “Deal. And if I win, I want you to come to the feast tonight.” Taehyung grins. “Looks like this year’s going to be difficult for you, Your Highness.” “I’ll keep up.” Jungkook laughs again and gets back on his horse. A stable-boy comes rushing over with a horse for Taehyung and before the King can utter a single word or you have a chance to speak to him, the games have begun. Taehyung glances over his shoulder at you for a single beat and then he’s off into the woods with the rest. In the original game, Taehyung never participated in the Hunt. He looked on from the window of his tower and even sabotaged Jungkook. In the original game, Jungkook became injured but still conscious enough that before he fated, he declared he would give his prize to the heroine since Anastasia was so overbearing. It sparked the girl’s jealousy and was the reason why she decided to conspire with Taehyung. It was the first domino in the chain — the beginning of the villains working hand in hand. But none of that is happening. You wonder how far your choices will continue to deviate from the story. How many more mistakes— “Are you alright, Anastasia?” You jolt, torn out of your deep trance by a worried gaze. Lucy has leaned in towards you, her brows knitted together and you smile. “I’m fine. I was just thinking about something.” You quickly change the subject. “Have you given your ribbon to anyone yet?” The pair of you are walking down the castle hall, heading towards the dining hall where you know the noble women will be having tea and making small talk while waiting for their sons and husbands. Lucy shakes her head and unties the blue ribbon she had around her wrist. “Why not?” She stares at the soft satin for a second and then looks up at you, mustering a small smile. “I wouldn’t know who to give it to.” “Well, you still have time to decide. You can give it to someone when they get back.” You hum to yourself. “How about giving it the Crown Prince?” Lucy’s eyes are as large as saucers and she blinks thrice. You’re a bit endeared with how surprised she seems at your suggestion. “Don’t you admire Prince Jungkook?” “I...I do,” she admits quietly and peeks at you again. “But I wouldn’t want to overstep—” “Not at all!” You reassure her. “Prince Jungkook likes the admiration. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind whatsoever. He might actually appreciate it.” The girl smiles to herself and nods. Evening sets in after meaningless conversations, cordial expressions and polite responses. The only interruptions are the horns that ring as each participant in the Hunt slowly arrives back. Jungkook returns sweaty and out of breath, but with a whole moose like he promised. There are cheers and applauses, but more importantly, silent gasps when he beelines straight to Lucy to give her the prize. She blushes, a stuttering mess full of ‘thank yous’ and ‘it’s an honour’, and you discover Jungkook’s bashful behaviour at her sincere gratitude. He scratches the back of his neck, diverts his vision, mutters ‘it’s fine’. It’s fascinating to watch considering he’s always been arrogant and bratty to you since the day you met him. But you don’t get to observe their moment for long. Not when the horns ring again and a figure appears over the horizon. This time, no one moves. Truly stunned. Breaths hitched. Holy shit. Taehyung arrives back with a bear and he doesn’t even look like he’s broken a sweat. “Wow!” Jungkook is the first to react, moving out of the crowd to his brother. He’s genuinely amazed and impressed, jaw dropped and brows shot to his hairline. “You did this?!” “Didn’t I say I would win?” Taehyung grins languidly. “This...is incredible!” Jungkook’s admiration for his brother causes the unsettled crowd to finally calm. It starts off slow, a clap here or there and then it’s applause, cheering and murmurs of acknowledgment. “Has anyone ever brought a bear back before?” — “Did he use magic?” — “Why didn’t the eldest son participate in the Hunt before?” And you know that it’s the first time people have clapped for Taehyung. The attendant rushes forward, sputtering on his words. “T-The winner for this year’s Hunt is His Highness, Prince Taehyung!” Taehyung wins a chest of gold, worth more than fifty commoner’s lifetimes and you watch as he bows his head as he receives it. You watch as he holds it and strides towards you. You watch until his arms have extended and a smile draws upon his features. “What are you doing?” you ask, a whisper that’s befallen off your lips, spilled past the astonishment. His gaze and smile never wavers. “I’m giving my prize to you.” The crowd’s stirred to silence, watching the two of you, and you receive the wooden chest. The attendant quickly announces the feast in the hall and servants begin ushering the people inside. But you continue watching Taehyung, your eyes connected to his, both grounded in the private bubble. No one notices the King sitting on top of the stands, his brows tightly knitted. // The dining hall has shifted. No longer are there laced tablecloths, towers of pastries and teapots from the afternoon. It’s large plates that have stretched along the surface, meats and cheese, breads and butters that have begun the feast. There are grandiose chairs all around three different tables, arranged based on importance and connections, conversations that have filled the enormous room. The darkness of the night is casted away by the chandeliers overhead, illuminating the room in a golden hue. Yet, while each is high on the atmosphere, drunk by the wine, you can’t swallow the food down. The tapping of utensils on glass has you looking over. The room simmers down. By the coaxing of Jungkook beside him, Taehyung rises from his chair and clears his throat. It’s customary for the victor of the Hunt to give a speech and you’re guessing this is it. “Thank you all for coming.” Taehyung appears unfamiliar and awkward addressing the crowd, quickly rushing over his words as if to get it done and over with. “I have never participated in the Hunt before this year and it was only because of beginners luck that I won. That—” Suddenly, Taehyung looks right at you. “—and the support of those most important to me.” Then, as quick as he stole his glance, he turns away. “I hope the harvests of Ashea will prosper this year.” There’s thunderous applause and the feast resumes. You’re overwhelmed, dizzy, the celebrations of the room getting to your head — laughter, questions, comments louder by ten decibels until it feels earsplitting. You look over at Jungkook, finding that he has two blue ribbons pinned on his left side. He’s smiling widely, oblivious. Then, your head whirls over to your parents sitting down the table. They might have friendly smiles plastered on their features, but you can tell through their eyes that there’s seething anger. They’re unhappy, most likely with you, most likely with what happened earlier. “Anastasia.” Lady Devon, who sits beside you, calls you out of your thoughts, disapproving at how your listening skills could be so poor. You blink, pretending you were in deep thought about her discussion of silver forks and the corner of your mouth tugs. “If you’ll excuse me…” After a delayed moment, she nods and you push your chair back, blurring into the massive paintings on the wall as you slip out to the terrace. The night is cold. Each exhale of yours is visible and you tug the soft pink shawl around your shoulders closer to your body for some warmth as you lean against the railings. You look up at the star-filled sky, finally able to calm yourself from the noise inside. You’ve always been glad that no matter where you are, what universe it is, there’s always the same sun, stars and moon. A constant. One thing you don’t have to worry about. “Is there something wrong?” You know who it is before you’ve even turned around. It’s a relief. You’ve waited all day to be able to speak to him, to be away from prying eyes and in a private moment. It’s easing. Your nerves take comfort in the familiarity, somehow finding his very presence soothing. Yet it’s unsettling at the same time. You have too many questions, too many suspicions and you don’t know if you want to uncover the truth. But you gather your strength and face Taehyung. “I’m just thinking.” “About what?” Taehyung approaches your side. The warm light from inside the palace spills out and your shadows cast onto the grass beneath the terrace. There is not a soul in the hall when they’re all inside the dining hall, celebrations and conversations muffled through the many walls. You inhale a breath. “Why?” Taehyung frowns. You ask again, “Why did you give me your prize?” “Should I not have?” Half of his face is illuminated, the slope of his nose and dip of his cupid’s bow sharp against the glow of the chandeliers, reminiscent of the chiaroscuro of a painting. “That’s not it. Just…..” Why does he treat you so kindly, why does he want to go out of his way to talk to you, why does he look at you like that— “Why?” In the original game, Anastasia was Taehyung’s chess piece and nothing more. “Does there need to be a reason?” The corner of his mouth tugs gingerly. “I wanted to, so I did.” “But there’s so many eligible bachelorettes you could’ve them them to, like Lady Myoi or Lady Paxton—” “None of them matter,” he injects without needing to blink or think twice. “Not like you do.” Your head snaps up and your eyes meet. Taehyung gazes at you tenderly, searching your irises with a small smile and he swallows hard. His voice lowers when he asks, “Are you cold?” Oddly enough, even with the chilly wind whisking through the branches and swaying the leaves, you aren’t cold if he’s here. Yet suddenly, Taehyung snaps his fingers and you’re engulfed with the warmth of an embrace. It’s the heat of a winter fire crackling underneath the mantle, the Summer sun casting down on your cheeks, and it travels from your toes to your head, and you can’t help the giggle that spills from you. “What did you just do?” He grins and leans closer to you. “It’s a simple warmth spell.” Your brow cocks. “How much magic do you exactly know?” He even managed to get that bear without looking like he had to fight. Your efforts to get him not to tap into magic all those years ago were in vain, but you have to admit it’s pretty cool. Taehyung looks away, smile easing. “It doesn’t matter how much magic I have. It’s not enough for what I really want.” Your breath hitches in your throat. The implications of his words welcomes the tension back into the air that had snuck itself away for a simple moment. But it isn’t uncomfortable. It isn’t the kind of tension that comes when you’re speaking to the Duke and Duchess, not the stiffness that arrived when you were being scolded by Edith. No. It’s different. It’s….intimate. Especially when he sneaks a glance at you and you hold it, eyes fixated into his. None of you speak, breathe, bat a lash. Not when Taehyung starts to lean in close. Not when you begin to feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin, when you can hear the thunderous noise of his heartbeat bruising his rib cage. His lash tickles yours. But before your lips can brush— You push him away. Taehyung stumbles back, nearly falling over, but he grasps the railings. Your breath heaves and you stare at him in shock, in horror with what was about to happen. And before anything can be said or done, you turn away. “Wait! Anastasia!” Taehyung calls after you. “I’m sorry!” “I….I need to leave.” You can’t deviate from the story more than you already have. This is a mistake. In the midst of your panic, you return to the dining hall and cut through the room. It’s the quickest way back to your chambers, so you don’t hesitate to move your steps, never once looking behind your shoulder. Luckily, Taehyung doesn’t follow after you. He can’t. But while each is celebrating and distracted with their company, a certain girl notices your distraught and frantic form beelining to the massive doors. Something doesn’t sit right in her, so she immediately stands and bows her head to the woman she was speaking to. “If you can excuse me, thank you, I’ll be right back.” Lucy follows after you, eyes pinned on your backside. The only people who pay any mind is your mother, the Duchess of Devereux. Her senses are sharp and she taps your father on the shoulder until he follows her line of sight to the girl. The castle grounds are dark, the moon waxing but not yet full enough to provide a bright light. But enough is shed for you to see. It’s enough for shadows to cast along the stone walls. You would never walk outside at this time of night, but you need air. More of it. Something you can breathe in and hope will clear the cloudiness inside your mind, the noise that’s earsplitting. A gentle tap on your shoulder has you screaming. “It’s me!” Lucy puts her hands out, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.” You catch your breath, steadying it and you swallow hard. “W-What are you doing outside? I thought you were still celebrating the feast.” “I saw you walking by and I thought something was wrong and I got worried, I’m sorry.” She looks at you when the silence is ongoing. The concern is evident through her knitted brows. “Are you alright, Anastasia?” It seems like everyone is asking you that question today. A question you don’t know how to respond to yourself. But you manage a nod and a smile. “I’m fine. I was just tired. I was thinking of retiring to my room early.” “Oh, okay.” You step towards her and grasp her hands within your own. “Can you do me a favour, Lucy, and keep Jungkook company tonight? He might be looking for me too and I don’t want him to be worried.” “I will.” She nods. “But do you want me to escort you to your room? I could call someone—” “No, it’s quite alright. I’ll be fine.” You smile and let go of her. “You should go back now before someone goes looking for you.” Lucy nods for a second time and she bids you a goodnight as she walks back. You’re left by yourself and you turn to tread your own way. The weight of so many decisions lie upon your shoulders and slow down your steps. You wonder why you have to bear the heavy burden of knowing your future, of knowing all of theirs while trying to escape your own fate. It feels like you’re a pawn trying to control the whole chess board. You exhale a breath, watching the cloud dissipate and unbeknownst to you, there’s a rustle in the garden’s bushes. “That’s her, isn't it?” Two shadows emerge from the darkness and before your ears can pick up on the noise, before you can turn around and meet the figures, a cloth is clamped over your mouth. Your shout is muffled and arms begin to drag you in the opposite direction of the castle. What the fuc— Immediately, your elbow juts out and the man behind you sputters, cowering over with a curse. You manage to slip out of his loosened grip, about to sprint and yell. Until another overtakes you and grabs hold of your wrists, yanking you back. “Wench!” A cold blade sits at the juncture of your throat and you freeze, breaths tearing out of your throat frantically. You can fight him. Years of swordsmanship didn’t render you useless after all. But his threat delays you— “Shut your mouth if you don’t want Baron of Liza dead too.” What? Your mouth is stuffed with cloth and you’re roughly ripped into the darkness. At the same time, Taehyung, still at the terrace and about to leave, turns around.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #taehyung fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #OOOOOOOOH

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seasonsofeverlark · 3 years

Text

Family Prayer

Author: @mega-aulover

Prompt: Buttercup and Diwali are not things that go together. So even though Katniss dosen't like him much, she and Peeta try to make things easier for Buttercup on that day. [submitted by @everlurked]

Rating: Fluffy G

Author’s Note: This is a story about Diwali and wouldn’t have been possible without @cadsingh77 who spent weeks allowing me to ask all sorts of questions about Diwali and what it means to her. I patterned it on her descriptions. She read it, as well, to make sure there were no cultural faux pas. I apologize if there is anything amiss. Also, I’m remiss if I do not mention @norbertsmom who at the eleventh hour betaed this story. She’s my rock my bestie, and I would be nothing without her.

__________

Peeta glanced at his suit in the closet. His hands shook.

In a few hours he was going to meet the family of the love of his life.

He looked at the phone in his hands. He was lying in bed researching everything Diwali. His girlfriend Katniss had gone over the topic. She explained that just as sunset happens an elaborate puja, a prayer ceremony is done in a temple to begin the holiday. But to most Trinidadians or Trinis, as she called herself, like her family, they said little personal prayers in front of Laxmi, Saraswati and Ganesh and then they would light the diyas, little clay lamps, that they were going to placed in all of the rooms of the house.

Katniss made it all sound so simple. Diwali was a celebration of light. A victory over darkness. A day to wear new clothing, beautiful jewelry, sing, dance, pray, and light diyas. Katniss said any other guests would arrive after the prayers and they would have a ton of food and everyone would eat and hang out, kids would light sparklers, and there would be singing and dancing too.

Curious, Peeta watched every Bollywood movie on Netflix. Movies, however, never really explained everything. He put the phone down. He had to be honest with himself; Katniss’ assurances aside, he was a fish out of water no matter what he did. He was going to meet the most important people in Katniss’s life, her family.

In contrast, his parents were Dan and Cindy from Port Jefferson, Long Island. They owned a bakery near the ferry. They were dull people, they were like the parents of Ian Miller from My Big Fat Greek Wedding. But a lot colder and more dysfunctional, dressed in tans and beiges. Peeta constantly questioned why they would own a bakery that matched the color of bland. They never veered from the menu. Never introduced a new seasonal baked good. Peeta was stuck in that rut until he met Katniss and his entire world changed and color was introduced into his life.

Katniss was the electric jolt that kickstarted his dull heart to life.

The first time he tasted roti, the buttery tasting flat bread he literally cried.

From the pictures that Katniss shared of her family, he could tell they were a riot of awesomeness.

Katniss and her parents hailed from Trinidad and Tobago. Her family moved to Long Island from Germany. Her father was an engineer and physicist. He worked at the superconductor in Germany and then came to Long Island so that he could work on a project at Brookhaven National Laboratory. Her mother worked at Stony Brook University. She ran the nursing department.

Peeta and Katniss both attended Stony Brook University. He was on his way to a yoga class and she was in her Pink boxing class. From the glass covered room Peeta watched her hit the punching bag like Joe Fraser, and he was a goner. Peeta had a thing for strong women. His first middle school girlfriend bossed him and made him carry her books to and from class and he was a sucker for her, but she broke his heart. She told him she was only using him to get to his older brother Ryan. Peeta battled so much darkness in his life and what he needed was to chase the darkness away and to let the light into his heart. But he couldn’t deny he liked strong women.

There was something about a strong alpha woman who knew how to get things done, unlike his mother who was passive aggressive, and banged the pots in the kitchen and slammed refrigerator doors.

He sighed as he worried about tomorrow. He googled Diwali’s greetings and butchered the language as he tried to speak in Hindi.

Peeta sighed heavily.

Katniss’s mother invited him over the phone. She wanted him to come over before the prayers began. It was an honor because he was Katniss’ boyfriend, someone she chose despite her father trying to get her to date the son of a friend of his. Katniss put her figurative foot down and claimed she was dating Peeta. Her father didn’t want to meet him, but he knew of him.

So the pressure was on to be perfect. He didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing, especially in front of her family. His hands shook, this was important. He wanted to make a good impression on Katniss’ family, even if her father didn’t like him or the idea of him. Peeta wanted them to like him because, truth be told, his own family didn’t like him.

Peeta loved his family, but ever since he was little, he knew he didn’t fit into the landscape of his family. He was labeled as the emotional one. He was too irreverent for them. Peeta liked color. He loved to paint. He enjoyed the change in seasons where his family loved one season, summer, because they generated the most money then.

His family liked one or two flavors. Peeta loved all flavors, spicy ones, bold ones, subtle ones. They hated that he was always pushing to change the menu at the bakery. His childhood room was always the one his parents never showed off, because as a teen he painted the walls of his room every shade of orange. Peeta knew they sighed in relief when he decided to stay in the dorms at Stony Brook. His football scholarship allowed him to have that opportunity. He trained hard, studied hard, and loved hard.

“Katniss,” her name escaped his lips like fervent prayer and a wish. He loved her, was consumed by her, and he was so overly happy that she invited him to meet her family for Diwali. And now he had so much pent up energy he couldn’t sleep.

His teammates made fun of him, because he got a goofy lopsided I-got-my-hippopotamus-at-Christmas type grin, whenever Peeta thought of Katniss. He closed his eyes picturing her olive skin, thick straight dark hair braided into a rope, small pert nose, and silvery eyes that were breathtaking. Though it wasn’t her physical parts that made him fall in love. It was the woman who lay beneath the surface.

What made him sit up and take notice of Katniss after he saw her box, and he was out of the yoga room, was that there was a blonde girl at the gym working out. There were these idiots guys making fun of her, calling that poor girl fat, just because she was full figured. Katniss walked straight up to the guys and gave them a scowl full of fire and brimstone, called the girl hot and told her that if she were gay she’d do her in an instant. Then she told the guys that they could jackknife themselves off the roof of the building. Peeta had never seen anything sexier in his life. Katniss was full of fire and she was resplendent more so than the sun.

His phone buzzed drawing him away from his memories as the message came in.

KATNISS: Why are you still up?

Peeta grinned, his phone betrayed him. In some phones a little dot showed up next to the person when they were on their phone. Katniss must have noticed.

PEETA: Stalk much.

KATNISS: LOL

Peeta could see those three little dots moving as she wrote a reply.

For the most part Katniss wasn’t a talker. Unless she was passionate about the topic and then she was a chatterbox.

KATNISS: FUNNY. Seriously, tomorrow is going to be a long day. You need to sleep.

PEETA: Because tomorrow I am going to meet your family.

Peeta could see her rolling her eyes even through the phone.

KATNISS: You don’t have to be nervous.

PEETA: If you tell me all I have to do is be myself, I swear I am going to come dressed as Buddy the Elf.

KATNISS: Dork.

PEETA: Yes, but I’m your dork.

KATNISS: They’re going to love you.

Peeta sighed.

PEETA: This is important. I want to make a good impression. Your family is important to you and given that my family…

Peeta sighed. He’d brought Katniss to the bakery to meet his family because they didn’t have time for him. His father was pleasant. His mother, however, spoke loudly and slowly as if Katniss didn’t speak English. Katniss spoke various languages and was extremely intelligent. Her mother wanted her to be a doctor, but Katniss had a passion for the environment. Her major was environmental studies, with a minor in geology. She was brilliant and he felt like the dumb jock.

KATNISS: Your family is fine, well except for Ryan. Someone needs to examine him.

Peeta chuckled. His brother Rye stared at Katniss as if she was Christmas, Easter, and summer vacation all rolled up into one. He then proceeded to flirt with Katniss, by using every campy movie line known to mankind. In typical Rye fashion because he’d done it before to their other brother Lyle. Unfortunately in that instance the girl in question dumped Lyle to go out with Rye.

He sighed. That was his dysfunctional family. Family gatherings were uncomfortable events. They weren’t exactly nice to one another.

PEETA: I have no excuse for my brother.

Peeta decided to follow his text with a self deprecating joke. A truth, his family thought him the odd one in the family.

PEETA: But Ryan isn’t the bad apple. I’m not sure you know this, but I am the black sheep of the family.

KATNISS: You mean the sexy one.

A grin spread on his face at her compliment.

Katniss’ family was conservative, and by extent, so was Katniss. He respected her boundaries and her values. Family was everything to her and he loved her because of it, Katniss would lay her life on the line for her family.

PEETA: Have I told you today how much I love you.

KATNISS: No, but I do love to hear you say it.

Peeta pressed the little microphone and recorded his voice, which sounded rougher to his ears than normal.

PEETA: (a voice email) I love you Katniss. I love your mind. I love your kindness. I love how you always talk about your sister Prim. I love the way you adore your dad. I love the way you look up to your mother. I think you are the most beautiful soul. And I am nervous because if you are wonderful, then your family has to be just as great.

He meant every word.

They’d been dating for the last few months, but they’d been friends for two years. They weren’t easy years because of their schedules in school and the fact that her father had a mild heart attack right after they met. Peeta put himself in the friend zone because that’s what Katniss needed. He didn’t want her to feel pressure to feel romantic toward him when her dad, the most important man in her life, was ill.

In the end, the bonds of friendship grew to a love so sweet and pure, that it shined out of her silver eyes. The first time she realized the love she held for him was more than friendship left him breathless, like stepping into a world filled with brilliant colors, light and joy.

KATNISS: (a voice email) I love you too.

Her voice was breathy and filled with her heartfelt emotion.

Peeta couldn’t help but sigh contentedly.

KATNISS: Now as for tomorrow, don’t worry. When they see what a great guy you are, they will love you.

Peeta sighed.

KATNISS: NOW GO TO SLEEP, MELLARK!

PEETA: Yes ma’am.

He grinned and would have followed her directions, but instead he stood from his bed and went into his suite kitchen. He needed to bake. It was the only thing he knew that would calm him down. He decided to make chocolate using the vegetarian items he purchased in the store. Come the morning he would make the Laddoos he planned to bring with him. In Hindi they were called Laddu but in Trinidad they were known as Laddoo.

Making the chocolate eased his nerves, so he actually got some sleep. In the morning, he showered and set to work on making the Laddoos. By three o’clock he was done, and all he had to do was wrap up the presents. Taking a red ribbon, he tied each box the way he’d done so many times at the bakery.

His suitemates were gone. No doubt causing trouble somewhere on campus, which gave Peeta the time he needed to get ready. He took out his new suit. Even though Katniss told him he could wear a nice pair of slacks and shirt, Peeta bought a suit that was on sale for the special occasion.

Taking a deep breath he took the small presents he had for her family. They weren’t necessary, but he wanted to make a good impression. He gathered up the Laddoos, the chocolate, the flowers - marigolds he sourced at the local home depot, and the paintings he made of her family made from the memory of the pictures she’d shown him.

He drove, heading to the Everdeen home in Mount Sinai. The cottage-like house looked like something out of a movie or TV show: warm, inviting, like a real home, one filled with love, and not pretend.

As he walked up, he could hear laughter, genuine laughter, followed by singing and joy. Running a hand through his blond wavy locks he took a deep breath. “Okay Mellark, just be yourself,” he whispered, as he stood in front of the door.

He raised his hand to knock on the door and his breath caught at the man standing there looking more like a navy seal instead of a physicist. This was Katniss’ dad. His chrome eyes were hard and they took him apart, much the way a defensive end could read a play and pick it apart while holding their defense line.

“Happy Diwali.” Peeta tried to say confidently but his voice cracked. He could feel himself sweating.

Her father raised an eyebrow. “You are Peeta Mellark.”

Peeta nodded.

“Rahul!” A statuesque woman with blonde hair and pale blue eyes swatted Katniss’ father’s arm. He watched her sneak around him, dressed in a traditional red sari with gold thread. “Please behave.” Mrs. Everdeen quietly gave her husband a look. Her golden bangles clinked as she placed her hand dramatically on her hip. Peeta was glad Katniss had gone over the different fashions. He studied each one because he would do anything for Katniss.

Peeta watched as her father’s hard analytical eyes softened the moment he beheld Katniss’ mother. Peeta could see how Katniss’ parents were a unit of one. They were in love and either one would fight the shadows and all of the evil in the world for their other half. “Anjali.”

“I am Katniss’ mother, this is her father,” her pale eyes sparkled. “Please come in, we were waiting for your arrival. Come in,” she ushered him.

The home was two stories, to the left a halfway with rooms, to the right a living room, dining area, and a den to the far back. The house was decorated with warm rich colors, but everything was tied around the family, as pictures dotted the walls. There were lights everywhere hanging from the walls, the clay diya’s sat on the mantel. Peeta stood in front of a picture of Katniss on her father’s shoulders, her twin braids flowing, her eyes crinkled in pure happiness.

“Ohhhh you’re cute,” a younger, but deeper voice than Katniss’ said with impish mischief.

Primrose took after Katniss’ mother, with the flaxen hair and the pale blue eyes. Katniss explained that her mother was of British descent, while her father’s family, although sporting a European name, was from India. His great-grandparents came to Trinidad, fell in love with the island and stayed.

Her mother walked away from her very wealthy family back in Trinidad to marry Katniss’ father. It was a little like they were the original Romeo and Julliet.

His parents got together because his dad knocked up his mom.

“Primrose!” Mrs. Everdeen admonished.

“What,” Prim said. Her pale blue eyes were inquisitive as she walked around him. The way Katniss talked about her sister, Peeta had expected a little kid, but Prim was as tall as he was. Her loose pajama-like trousers that narrowed at her ankles, called shalwar, swooshed around as she made her round. Her red kameez, a flowing tunic with intricate gold patterns reminded Peeta of the pattern Mrs. Everdeen wore on her sari.

Prim was everything Katniss was not. She was a bold bright bubbly girl, who at this moment was making sure he was the real deal and not some mindless jerk. He stood, letting her because it was important that her family liked him. He wanted to be accepted. He felt his face flame up under the scrutiny.

“I understand why my boring sister is constantly sighing.”

Peeta grinned, then he said, “Oh these are for you.” He gave them the presents. The flowers, the chocolate, and the sweetened chickpea Laddoos he made by hand for them.

“Oh these are fragrant, where did you purchase them?”

“He made them.” The soft voice that came behind him made his heart rate triple.

Peeta turned around and there stood Katniss wearing an emerald green lenghas. She had explained what it looked like, but at this moment, his brain that was always filled with words was momentarily empty, vanquished by her beauty. He swallowed, mouth slightly ajar. His eyes darted from the perfection of her face with those silvery eyes that captivated him, and the peek of dark hair that was hidden by the sari.

Katniss held a shiny brass plate, she called a Tarrier, but in Hindi it was known as a Thali, containing coconut, almonds, and other sweets. Katniss told him the plate belonged to her great-grandmother Veronica. When her mother married her father, her great-grandmother gave it to her insisting it should go to her first born. He swore for a second he could see a miniature Katniss with his eyes staring up at him and holding the Tarrier.

“He made them?” Primrose asked, Peeta could hear the intense curiosity in her sister’s voice.

“His family are bakers, and Peeta is an amazing cook.”

“Really,” her father said, and his voice, the way he said that one word snapped Peeta out of his hazy fog.

“Ah,” he nervously said. “I made her cheese buns,” Peeta felt the heat rising from his neck and caused those red splotches that his brothers made fun of.

“Cheese buns,” her father repeated.

“When you were in the hospital, daddy,” her eyes did not hide the pain of recalling those days. “Peeta noticed I wasn’t eating and cajoled me into eating cheese buns,” Katniss words were so soft. “He was the friend I leaned on for support when…” her voice trailed.

Peeta watched her father’s face take a look of adoring tenderness at his eldest, and when his eyes turned to Peeta they weren’t as frosty as they had been.

“He even took me to temple to pray,” Katniss whispered.

“In Selden?”

“Yes, daddy,” Katniss quietly said.

“Rahul,” Katniss’ mother chided. She cupped his cheeks, “Such a nice young man. Did you make the chocolate as well?”

Peeta nodded, his eyes went back to her father. He couldn’t mess this up.

Her mother smiled serenely, then her eyes lit with happiness as if she made a startling connection. “Oh! Pundit Sharma was right; they were destined in the stars.”

“Star crossed lovers just like you and mom,” Prim said.

Her father cut his eyes away.

“Oh my, these chocolates….” Prim moaned.

“Primrose!” Her mother admonished.

“What, he said they were for us,” Prim shrugged, plopping a chocolate in her mouth. “I’d say he’s golden. So what does a cheese bun taste like?”

“Primrose, really, must you think only of your stomach?” Katniss shook her head.

“Girls,” their father said in a stern tone of voice. “It’s near sunset. Upstairs with the lot of you. I swear corralling a dozen baby ducks would be easier.”

The women headed upstairs. Peeta wasn’t sure, but her father swept a hand for him to follow him upstairs.

Peeta wasn’t sure what he was expecting, hopefully like something out of Khabi Kushi Khabi Gham. They had a small altar where he watched all of the women present the offerings and began to bow their heads. He stood behind quietly observing, but when Katniss began to pray it was like a song and her words that he didn’t understand wrapped around his heart and his lashes fluttered closed and a single tear fell down his face. Song after song her voice combined with that of her father, her mother and sister caused him to realize just how much he wanted to be part of this family, to be loved and accepted.

He too prayed for a family to want him, to be needed.

Peeta was so wrapped up in the moment when it was over he opened his eyes to find her mother standing before him with trembling lips, and watery blue eyes.

“Bend down son,” her father said with warmth in his voice. “She’s going to honor you by putting the sindoor on your forehead.” He pointed to his forehead, though his eyes had completely lost the frost. They were filled with admiration and the same warmth he had in his voice. Her father looked at Katniss and nodded as if giving her his blessings.

Unsure if what he had just seen was real, his eyes went to Katniss, but Prim said, “Go ahead Peeta, my father has just fallen for you too.” Her voice squeaked with that enthusiasm only a teenager could have. She wiped the tears from her face as well.

Peeta bent down slightly. Mrs. Everdeen’s hand slipped to the Tarrier and with her ring finger she pressed it into the red dust Katniss’ father called sindoor.

The press of her finger was light. “When my daughter marries you. You will sprinkle this sindor over the part in her hair to symbolize her marriage to you.”

Peeta’s eyes flew to her father who nodded. “Welcome to the family son.” He clasped his back and said. “Now let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

Peeta couldn’t help but grin. He gazed at Katniss who came to him, her smile shy. He was going to follow them, but katniss put her hand on his, then stepped up and placed a small peck on his cheek. Then winked sassily. “I told you they would love you.”

And like that, his prayers were answered; he now had a family.

Years later, when he stood in the same position watching his little girl singing the puja, holding the brass tarrier, alongside Katniss. Just as in that memory from years ago he listened to Katniss voice blend with their daughter. Their voices blended in with his father-in-law Rahul, Primrose and her soon to be fiancé. Peeta was grateful that his prayers were answered, the darkness was swept away and light filled his soul. And he was granted the family he always wanted.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #autumn #autumn 2020 #mega-aulover #submission #prompt

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sundaywonder · 3 years

Text

the lost song : yoonmin

Getting ready to start fresh in life, physical education professor Park Jimin is just waiting to migrate to Australia with his daughter and girlfriend. Everything gets topsy-turvy when world-class music producer Min Yoongi—and also his secret ex-boyfriend—comes back home to South Korea to marry his it-girl fiancé. If that wasn’t bad enough for Jimin, Yoongi invites him to the wedding. It gets worse; it leaves him no choice but accept it to avoid spilling the beans.

Although the worst happened back then, it’s not enough for their forsaken what-ifs and unsaid feelings from making itself clear. The situation makes Jimin realize how jaded he was without Yoongi all the years they were apart—and vice versa. As they slowly pick up the broken pieces of the past, reality hits hard back at them again. There are two choices: to give up on love and live in the present or to run away and never look back.

Genre: Romance, Adult Fiction, Melodrama, Erotica

Fandom: BTS, BLACKPINK, Red Velvet, IU

Pairing: Suga & Jimin, Jimin & Rosé, Suga & Jennie, IU & Jungkook, Wendy & j-hope

Rating: M or R-18 — contains sensitive themes, strong language and graphic depiction of sexual activity

Status: Ongoing — 6/12

Link: Wattpad, ao3

Excerpt: The Flower Bloomed — 10 Years Ago

Yoongi, 20

I hurriedly go down the stairs while vigorously drying my head with a towel. I knew I would oversleep. Aside from being a deep sleeper, I’m also not used to waking up as early as 7 a.m. Nine is still pretty early if you’d ask me. The cool air last night made everything even worse. I shouldn’t have opened the windows.

Good thing my grandma heard Aunt Hyeja yelling outside our house. If she didn’t, I wouldn’t have even noticed that her and our other neighbors’ missed calls and text messages.

“Make sure none of the kids get injured, okay? We don’t have money for their hospital bills if ever,” reminds grandma as she followed me down. I don’t hear and comprehend what she said until five seconds later.

“Got it. Bye.” When I get out of our gate, I immediately see Aunt Hyeja who was waiting for me outside.

“We’ll get going, Auntie Dooshim!” exclaims Aunt Hyeja.

“Alright, have a safe trip!”

“I’m so sorry, Auntie. I really am.” She walks so briskly that I have a hard time catching up with her. Regardless, I feel like that’s how should it be; I must walk maybe two or three steps behind her after what I’ve done.

“Don’t think about it anymore. The kids are already in there. You know our numbers so contact us immediately if anything goes wrong. There’s a ton of food on the table so feed yourselves when you get hungry. Don’t leave at least one of them unattended. Never attend to the gate if it’s a stranger and refrain from telling them that an adult is not present—oh, how old are you again?”

“Twenty.”

“My bad. It slipped my mind that you’re already an adult. Anyway, did you understand everything clearly?” I just nod. Aunt Hyeja doesn’t seem to be mad but it’s fairly obvious that she’s already dying to leave. I discreetly peek at her watch which says 7:15 a.m. I can’t help but shake my head. I reminded myself endless times to do well in this babysitting gig but I still ended up ruining the first thing about it. There must be something really wrong with me.

After arriving in front of the home of my best friends, brothers Seokjin and Taehyung, she tells me, “Also, your Aunt Misun told me that Jimin won’t be able to attend the excursion because he’s sick. He’s going to be home alone today so I told him that he can contact you if he needs anything.”

I gulped as soon as I heard Jimin’s name and forced myself to act nonchalant. “W-what happened to him?” It was definitely hard to do so.

“He has fever,” she replied. “Don’t you guys get more written projects in lieu of not attending out-of-the-classroom activities?”

“Yes.”

“So, does it mean you like completing paperworks instead of attending trips and such?” I just let out a fake chuckle and nodded. I’m sure it wouldn’t sit with her when I say that I don’t like socializing and going to places with a lot of people. Aunt Hyeja is a social butterfly and—I don’t want to sound like I’m judging her (but maybe I am)—she’s not exactly the type of person to bother understand things deeper if it doesn’t concern her. Besides, it’s lengthy and we’re not that close for me to open up to her. An awkward giggle is probably better than an explanation.

The Kims already left when I entered and all the four kids were sleeping on the sofa in the living room, not even noticing my entrance. I decide to just sit on the floor and watch TV in low volume. My body is asking for me to sleep so badly that pinching myself isn’t working anymore. A faint regret is starting to form in my chest but I cut it out immediately.

After getting bored of the morning makjang drama that I forced myself to watch, I turn around to check on them. Jingoo—a cousin of Seokjin and Taehyung, as well as Namjoon who is also a cousin of the two—is already up but still lying on his stomach while silently watching the drama with me. Our eyes meet but he doesn’t say a word and just shifts his eyes back at the screen.

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” I ask. Jingoo just nods. “What did you eat?”

“Seaweed rice balls and jeon.”

“Tell me when you’re hungry.” He just nods once again.

Our conversation awakens Taejoon, Chanbin and Yeongyu. Unlike Jingoo, they wanted to eat so I prepared the food that was left for us. Being alone with these kids who I barely know suddenly makes me feel weird for some reason. It’s probably because I don’t have any experience in babysitting. So far, it’s an alright deal. The money is good and you practically get paid to stay at home.

I leave them and go back to the living room, sitting beside Jingoo’s feet who hasn’t moved an inch ever since he woke up. “Where did they go?” He asks, not moving his eyes from the screen.

“A trip.”

“Event aunt and uncle? I thought it was a school trip.”

I let out a sigh and close my eyes. Some sort of hot energy constantly forms in my head the longer I talk to this kid. “I don’t know why. Ask them when they come back later.”

It got rowdy when they started to play. This is way worse than I imagined. Toy cars and guns are all over the place and I need to remind them every two to three minutes that they shouldn’t be shooting bullets on the TV screen, as well as the vases and figurines. None of my words seem to get to their tiny heads.

I take back what I said. I don’t want to this ever again. I wasn’t like this when I was a kid. Even my friends. We weren’t anything like this. Not even close. We were well-liked by the neighborhood in general because of that.

Out of the blue, my phone suddenly vibrated. My heart almost dropped on the floor when I read Jimin’s name on the screen.

[JIMIN :)

1 NEW MESSAGE]

All of a sudden, my heart started to pound like it wanted to get out of my chest. I took a deep breath before flipping my phone and pressing View.

[JIMIN :)

Hey, can I go there? It’s getting a little boring here.]

[ME (draft)

Of course! Bring what you need!]

I delete it before I could even think twice. I cringed at what I just typed.

[ME (draft)

Okay, but it’s a little loud here]

Maybe not. He might end up not going if I say that.

[ME

Sure]

[JIMIN :)

I’ll bring ramen]

[ME (draft)

Okay]

I press the end call button and just fold my phone instead. I immediately go to the bathroom and wash my face with soap and water. I run my wet hands through my hair as well. Just as I got out, someone knocked on the door.

“Don’t shoot on anything!” I yell before walking out the door.

“Hey,” greets Jimin as soon as I open the gate. Unlike his usual self, the gloomy aura surrounding him can be clearly felt. His face and shoulders seem wretched as well.

“Are you alright? You look so pale.”

“Trying to be.”

“Stay in Seokjin’s or Taehyung’s room if you want to get some rest. It’s a little rowdy in the living room.”

“Thanks. I’ll go text him.”

As soon as I hear Seokjin’s bedroom door close, I make an announcement to the kids. “Jimin’s sick. Don’t make any loud noises from now on.” It did subside but only for a short while. “You kids, anyone who makes loud noises will not get to eat lunch.” They stop playing tok look at me with a weird expression on their faces, as if they’ve never heard someone say such a thing to them before. A hint of fear can also be seen. I fucked up again, didn’t I?

Unlike what I said, I started to prepare lunch when the clock hit noon. The kids gathered at the table and chowed down as soon as the food was ready. Meanwhile, I got my own food and ate in the living room.

[ME (draft)

Hey, lunch is ready. Can you go down here?]

[ME

Lunch is ready, feel free to eat here.]

[JIMIN :)

What’s for lunch?]

[ME

Pork belly, barbecue, dumplings, rice and kimchi]

[JIMIN :)

Damn, will go there ASAP]

I wipe the droplets of sweat on my forehead. My breath keeps on running as if they are trying to get away from something… or someone. I don’t know. I don’t even want to think about this. It only makes me go crazier and crazier. Even my well-trained emotional suppression skills are barely working. Helpless, hopeless—that’s what I am.

“Hey!”

“Shit!” I hold to my chest in shock and turn around. “I-it’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me. You okay? You’re deep in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice me pass in front of you,” asks Jimin.

I shake my head. “I just zoned out.”

“Shit!” Taejoon mimicks while the other three laugh.

“Shit!” Chanbin and Yeongyu repeat in unison which makes them laugh even harder.

“Are you kids an adult to say that?” I ask.

“Shit!” The three exclaim, not even bothering to answer me.

Suddenly, I hear Jimin giggle softly—making me look back at him. “So, you can already laugh. Feeling better now?”

He just nods with a faint smile and takes a spoonful of kimchi stew. “Mmm, delicious. Did you cook?”

“Nope, one their parents probably.”

Neither of us talked after that; I just pretended the focus on my food while his eyes wandered around the place. Even though it feels like I need to say something, not a single word’s coming to my mind. My mouth is left agape from the urge to speak but not knowing what to say. For some reason, it seems to me that he’s feeling the same way. But how can I know for sure?

The kids come back to the living room not long after they have finished eating. I couldn’t thank the heavens enough; this is the only time today that I’ve actually become happy about their presence. Before they can even settle on their seats, I stand up to play the first Disney DVD my hand landed on: The Incredibles.

Jimin passes behind me so I look at him. He’s bringing my dirty plate with him to the kitchen. “Hey, s-sorry. You didn’t have to.”

He looks back and says, “Huh?”

“The plate.”

“Psh. It’s nothing.”

I follow him to the sink where he’s silently washing the dishes. He almost looks like he’s zoned out and submerged in his deep thoughts.

“Hey!” I jokingly yell from his back.

“Sh—!” He accidentally loses his grip on the plate he’s holding. It falls back to the sink, causing a small chip on the edge. “Oh, no…”

“I’m so sorry,” I say as I try to catch my breath. The plate looks expensive with all those blue Chinese prints. It most definitely came from an expensive dinnerware collection and Mrs. Kim would kill me if she sees this. I might have to babysit for nine or ten more times just to pay for the damage.

“Don’t worry about it. It was an accident.”

“But it looks expensive!”

“I was the one who lost grip on it, what are you being so worried about?” Jimin says with a faint giggle. I’m not buying it; he doesn’t sound amused at all. “Also, wanna watch?” He nonchalantly asks.

“This?” I ask back, pointing at the TV.

He just shakes his head. “Seokjin has a big collection up there.” I just looked blankly at him, deliberately making it obvious that I need more details to get what he’s saying. “Sola Aoi, Asami Yuma, Haruna Hana and so much more. We have everything we need up there!” I feel my whole body suddenly heat up upon hearing what he just said and my legs seem like they want to give up on me. “Hey, you okay?”

“Th-the kids…”

He takes a peek at them. “They’re already asleep.”

I look back at the kids and close my eyes in panic. Images of him being half-naked while beating off instantly flash in my mind. I vigorously shake my head along those thoughts. I can’t count how many times I saw him naked in the past. We even used to take a bath together along with the other guys when were younger. But this time everything’s different, especially to me, and it sucks big time. “Okay, then…”

He opens the dish dryer and puts all the now-squeaky clean plates, glasses, spoons and forks. “Don’t be so nervous. They’ll probably stay asleep until twilight or something.”

“Maybe,” I replied to him even if his words just seemed to bounce against my head. Naked. Naked. Naked. My mind just doesn’t seem to get tired about this goddamn word and keeps asking for more. Now, even the way he looks and smiles at me is starting to mean something else.

Jimin grabs my arm and pulls me until we reach Seokjin’s room. Before I could even react, the door was already locked and his pants and underwear were on the floor. My manhood starts to throb and harden as soon as my eyes lands on his half-naked body. He’s grown much bigger and thicker ever since I last saw him. That was a few years ago—same situation as now but with Hoseok and Taehyung, minus the feelings. To stop myself from completely breaking down out of panic and ruining everything for good, including our friendship, I just turn my head at a random teddy bear on Seokjin’s bed.

I sit beside him on the carpet and before also taking off my short pants and underwear. A strange kind of electricity seemed to charge on my body when I saw him look at my manhood. His mouth slightly gaped but he immediately closed it and focused on operating the DVD player. Since the tapes weren’t labeled, we don’t know what those contained. Jimin chooses just whatever. The video begins, and we see Sola Aoi who was wearing a provocative nurse uniform enter the hospital room where the middle-aged male patient was in.

I lean on the bed to relax and force myself to focus on the film. Jimin’s already starting to touch himself. He looks back at me with an unexplainable expression in his eyes. It’s been a while since I did this with them but I’m sure we didn’t look at each other while beating off, or maybe I’m just forcing weird meanings. At this point, I can’t even trust myself anymore.

I couldn’t help but start to actually beat off as soon as Sola started to moan. All of us in our group likes her the most for how irresistible she sounds when she’s getting fucked. It makes the film feel like 5D.

The film already ended but neither of us reached climax yet. When I was almost there, I stopped. I don’t know why but I felt like I needed to do so. As I try to catch my breath, I watch him while he did his business.

To my surprise, Jimin also stops and joins me in leaning on the bed, panting hard. He looked at me straight in the eyes, then his gaze dropped on my lips. “They look dry…”

Before I even knew it, our lips were all over each other and his tongue has successfully penetrated my mouth. Jimin’s hands start to explore inside my shirt before pulling it off of me. He removes his own next. My hands are frozen on his groin in disbelief. Everything seems like a dream but all of these are a hundred percent real.

“Jimin…” I mindlessly say.

“Do whatever you want to do to me.” He grabs my hand and places it on top of his manhood. “Don’t hold back.”

I pull his head and kiss him hard before pushing him down. Only God and I know how much he looks good with nothing on but his golden rolo chain necklace. “As long as you let me, I won’t.”

—

If you’re reading until here, thank you so much! The Wattpad and ao3 links where you can read the whole story are available above.

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tae-cup · 4 years

Text

Cupid’s Blind Eye | Of Eternity and Euphoria (3)

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Summary: A demigod looking for love meets the god of love himself.

Warnings: N/A. This might be the fluffiest one so far. wait I lied it’s not fluffy at all. It’s really angsty. I’m sorry.

Word Count: 5.4k words

A/N: I have a lot of ideas for this series. So much so, I’m ignoring my other series. Like Hamartia and The Pact which I was s u p p o s e d to start by now. Smh this is what happens when I have too many ideas. I’m planning a spin off series for a Male!reader for this...I also wanted to tie this more into the overarching plot, but it’s okay, I’ll get you more park jimin okay. Consider me your supplier.

AS:ASJFLKWJQ:W it deleted my first draft >:(

Other:

Series Masterlist

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Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is winged cupid painted blind - William Shakespeare

Your knees hurt already. It had been all of 15 minutes, but the gravel under your legs wasn’t exactly comfortable. You had spent the last hour praying for the god of love to show himself and you fell to your knees desperately in the last 15.

“Oh, god of love.” You drawled sarcastically, ready to leave the dilapidated altar. “Answer my prayers.” You practically rolled your eyes, sick of this nonsense.

You stood slowly, realizing he probably wasn’t going to show himself any time soon. You swiped the gravel off your knees, not noticing the presence behind you.

“You should know not to be so disrespectful to your gods, darling.” A sly voice called. You froze. No way. When you turned to look, a man leaned against the pillars of the altar. He radiated lust and love, an inhuman aura. There was no doubt this was the god of love, lust, and passion.

And unlike him, you radiated a sort of pure aura; compared to him, of course. It drove him mad.

“Oh.” You were at a loss for words. His build was literally of the gods and his face, oh his face. You couldn’t find a single flaw in his face. From his adorable nose to his plump lips. You found yourself staring at his features for way longer than necessary. He smirked. This was a typical response to his appearance.

“Why do you seek me out?” He stepped forward, peering into your eyes.

“I want to know my soulmate.” You clenched your fists. Everyone you knew already found theirs. Your friend, Jennie, had explained that the god of love had helped her, but you didn’t believe her. You thought she was pulling your leg. The god quirked his head to the side.

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Because I’m sick of being alone.” You admitted, mouth feeling awfully dry as you nervously shifted from foot to foot.

His gaze softened, heart thumping.

“You won’t be alone forever.”

“It feels like it sometimes.”

“You’re a demigod.” It suddenly clicked. Your blatant disrespect of the gods, the odd aura surrounding you. Almost godly, but not quite. Not many demigods had a good connection to the gods. They were often cast aside, looked over, thought of as wannabes when many just wanted to live their lives. His altar wasn’t any different than the other crumbled ones around, the only indicator was the Greek letters above, but only a demigod would be able to read that.

“And you’re a god. I’ve come to learn that it doesn’t matter who you are, we all die in the end.” You frowned, thinking of your godly parent, one that had faded a long time ago, sentenced to eternal darkness for the atrocity of giving birth to you. However, being a demigod came with its perks. As long as you stayed healthy, you had longer lifespans while staying youthful. You had stopped aging around 25, but now you were around 60. You would likely begin aging around 100 and then die around 200. You had lived a long life so far without finding love. At first you thought it was possible, but as the years went on, no one gave you that spark, that burning sensation, that claimed them as your soulmate.

“Listen.” You sighed, “I just want to know if they exist. I’ve spent years searching and I thought fate was supposed to bring us together. Are they to be born in another timeline? Shall we never meet?”

The god of love frowned at your lack of faith in him as a god. He stepped forward, close enough for you to make out his face in detail. He radiated love, lust, and passion. His eyes were intense, but you didn’t find yourself scared. In fact, it was almost comforting. He was the definition of love.

“Do you have so little faith in me? Fate has brought you here.” He gently reached out and touched your shoulder. He just needed to check. It was silly to think that the god of love, could not seem to find his lover. There. That spark, that burn. It spread like a wildfire, consuming your everything. It felt like your atoms had rearranged, yearning to be completed by him.

You couldn’t do anything except stare at him. There was no way you were fated to one of the gods whom you so dearly despised. The gods had abandoned you as a child. Was this some cruel punishment? He softened his expression, taking in your frustrated form. Scared, worried, and anxious were reactions he expected from his soulmate, but anger was not one.

“I don’t have to be with you, you know?” You said bitterly. “I can choose to stay away. Not all soulmates stay together.”

Your words clearly had an effect on him because he nodded and stepped away. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion and hurt flashed across his face.

“I won’t force you to join me, but please reach out if you change your mind. You know where to find me.” He gestured to the altar. He, out of everyone, knew that you could put two perfect people next to each other in a room, but you couldn’t force them to love each other. Love was a tricky thing and Jimin knew it best. “Just ask for Jimin.”

Then he was gone, the wind seemingly taking him away. You rushed forward, looking for that sneaky god, but you couldn’t locate him. You had to admit you felt bad about reacting that way. He didn’t expect this either. With a sigh, you called out to the stones. “I’m Y/N. Lovely to meet you, Jimin.”

And of course he heard you. His eyes trailed your back as you ran back into your small town. It was one of the last towns who truly believed in the gods, that’s why so many had altars up. A smile made his way onto his face. Now it was just wait and see.

“Oh come on. You are way too boring, Jimin.” The fiance (I’m sorry I don’t have accents on this computer >:( ) of Yoongi rolled her eyes.

“___, You must understand, love just doesn’t work like that, You have to let it happen.”

“I bet she wants you to chase after her.” ___ continued. “Here, invite her to the wedding. She can be your plus one!”

“You’re too kind. I fear she may be afraid of the underworld.”

“Didn’t you say she’s a demigod?” Yoongi’s fiance quirked her head to the side. She was a human before a goddess. She had no bias against demigods and Jimin felt she was the best to approach about his encounter.

“Yes.”

“Then I doubt she’ll even bat an eye at the underworld.” She viewed her nails, thanking the workers and standing from the salon. “You came all the way to the human world just so you could whine about your love life to the goddess of the underworld. Seems right.”

Jimin scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. He was at a loss for words, however, and he bit his lip. “I came to you because she seems more human than god and I wanted to know your experience.”

“Well, Yoongi basically kidnapped me, but not really. I just knew I wanted to go with him. Then he and I hit it off from there. I fought with Taehyung, stirred up some shit, and now I’m going to be the downfall of Olympus.”

The other gods didn’t like her joking about the downfall of Olympus, but Jimin could always laugh.

“At least my nails will look good while it happens, yeah?”

The love god laughed along with her and the two walked over to the park. The park, known as Plyosum Park, was a great hotspot of godly energy. It was the quickest and easiest way to get to Olympus.

“Now, I must be going.” She smiled, “But, have you ever thought, Jimin, that she’s no more human than she is god? Maybe she just wants to be treated as the person she is; a demigod. That’s why I don’t think I can help you much. I wish you luck, however.” She sent a small wave to him before ghostly hands reached up and dragged her under.

Jimin sighed. She had a point. He’ll just treat you like any person. He let his wings grow out as he prepared to travel back to Olympus. They were a feathery white with golden flakes scattered in between. Many called him cupid for this, but he preferred the name Eros.

You opened the letter with caution. It had appeared on your desk when you arrived home and it definitely hadn’t been there before. The handwriting looked familiar, though you couldn’t place your finger on it.

Dear Y/N,

I am writing to you today because the god and goddess of the underworld are getting married. They have requested I bring along someone and of course my first thoughts were of you. It would be lovely if you are able to join me, but it’s quite alright if you don’t feel comfortable. Please consider my offer, but I will not hold it against you if you choose not to come.

Best,

Jimin

You had to chuckled at his formal phrasing, but you couldn’t blame him. He wanted to give you space and you respected him for being so cautious to your boundaries. It wasn’t expected of the god. After all, he was a god. He could have just kidnapped you on the spot. Maybe he just understands love doesn’t work like that. That made more sense. You carefully wrote back.

My dearest Jimin,

I would be honored to attend such a momentous occasion. Sadly, I seem to be at a lack of formal wear suitable for this kind of event, what do you suggest?

Best,

Y/N

Of course you had to shoot back with your own formal tone. You hoped he understood the sarcasm in it as you hiked to the only place you knew he visited. His altar was old, crumbling, very un-beautiful for the most beautiful god you knew. Then you remembered that you would be meeting many beautiful gods and goddesses in a short time.

You placed the far messier letter down at his altar and hurried back to the village. Jimin was waiting, hoping to catch you, but you were gone before he could even speak. He bent down and slowly picked up the letter. He hastily tore it open, smiling fondly at your words. It was a shame he didn’t get to see you properly before you rushed off.

It was in your nature, as a demigod, to be skiddish around most things; though you seemed to have more of a fight in you than other demigods. The issue was that demigods didn’t fit in anywhere. The gods despised them and regarded them as abominations, hybrids, wannabes. The humans weren’t much better, fearing anything they considered other. Demigods would rarely be able to rest without being hunted by one group or another.

Jimin looked to the middle distance, thinking about what outfit would best suit you. He wanted you to fit in with the other gods and goddesses. While he was a great believer in “love is love” other gods may try to bring you down simply because you were a demigod. It made him feel ill to think of what terrible things could come your way because of your mother’s mistake, not that you were a mistake. He mentally scolded himself. He was constantly on the fritz of checking himself and making sure he said the right things.

He shook his head, returning to his place in the clouds.

When there was a knock at your door, you jumped in surprise. It was not often that the village people visited you. You lived a lonely existence, but you decided this was fine.

“For: Y/N.” You read carefully, surveying the package on your doorstep. You glanced around, eyes flicking to the house next door and traveling down the empty road. Hurriedly, you grabbed the package and hauled it inside your house, slamming the door shut.

The box was more of a rectangle. It was long and flat and there was no return address. You had a feeling you knew who had delivered it. You walked to the kitchen and grabbed a pair of scissors. Then you approached the package, unsure of how to open it. If this was what you thought it was, you didn’t want to damage it. You gnawed at your lip, brows furrowed in concentration as you painstakingly cut through the thin strips of tape. This is ridiculous, just rip it open. You couldn’t bring yourself to do that, however. You didn’t want to rip the contents. So you continued your work before the box flaps finally undid themselves.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at the dress. It was a light pink, an innocent color. You rushed to your room to try it on. Of course it fit perfectly. It had a tight bodice, hugging the upper half of your body in a flattering way. Then the rest of the material flowed from the bodice. Layers of tulle and silk fluttered to the ground. In the box also came a delicate silver crown, headband, thing. The silver was twisted into delicate branches that curved every which way, forming a sort of bramble. It looked so elegant and graceful. The accessories that came with the dress included silver earrings and bracelets. The most important was a necklace. It was an graceful, thin, silver chain, but at the bottom it was weighed down by a light pink gemstone. It seemed to glow, like a beating heart. You didn’t expect anything less from the god of love. You were stunning.

You couldn’t wait to wear it to the wedding in a few days. Jimin would surely be impressed. You found yourself blushing girlishly at the thought of impressing him. You wanted him to want you. To see his eyes light up when you entered a room. To kiss him. You gently placed your fingers on your lips, thinking of his plush ones on yours. You knew he would oblige you if you asked, but you had only met the once and the soulmate bond was inexplicably strong already. You were worried it would consume you if you let it. Would you still be standing if it did?

Days go by and now you stand at his altar. It’s desolate, looking lonelier than ever before. You shift nervously, having done your makeup to reflect the lightness you were sure he wanted to portray. You knew he was trying to get the other gods to like you and you were still wary of meeting them. However, you promised yourself that you would try, even if the other immortals didn’t. You didn’t want to pace, having already painstakingly made sure your dress wasn’t muddied on the way up. Where is he?

You were beginning to worry. Little did you know, Jimin was freaking out. He was pacing and getting far too worked up for a god.

“Hyung! What if-what if she gets scared and doesn’t want to see me again?” He whined to the sky god. He strutted up and down the hallway that led to his altar. He knew you were there, he could feel it, he just couldn’t bring himself to step through.

“Jiminie, she’s a demigod, she’ll be okay.” Jin squeezed his younger friend’s shoulder. Jimin had trusted Jin enough to tell him about you. He thought of telling Namjoon, longing for the elder’s advice more than anything, but there was something sneaky about that god that held him off.

“What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Why would she show up if she wasn’t interested?”

Jimin ran a hand through his hair and Jin could tell he was about to complain more so he stepped in.

“Hey, you’ll be okay.” He said softly, pushing the god of love towards the door. Who knew that such a suave man was so...scared of love? “If you’re worried about jumping off the deep end and drowning,” Jin had heard that falling for your soulmate often felt that way. “Then it’ll be okay. You’ll learn how to breathe underwater.”

The elder god then took the, now quiet, god by the shoulders and steered him down the hallway. The god of love took one heavy step after another. “Go, you’ll be late otherwise and that won’t do any good to lighten the other gods’ positions on her.” Jin said, almost scolding. The younger god just kept his mouth shut, nodding way too easily to his friend.

“Wait, Hyung-”

“Go.”

Then he was shoved through the doorway.

He stumbled straight into you, hands reflexively reaching out to stable you. You gasped in surprise, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Jimin! I thought you weren’t coming.” You said in a huff. The god stood there sheepishly, scratching his head.

“Right, I’m so sorry, I was...” Honesty is the best in any relationship. “...I was nervous.”

You tilted your head to the side. Usually it was the other way around with all the assholes you’d dated in the past. They were always entitled, never asking you about anything.

“Oh, I see.” You said awkwardly. “Well, it’s getting late.” You drifted off. Then you noticed him staring at you. Your cheeks flushed pink again at his gaze. It was intense, searching, as it took in your outfit. You heard him let out a soft breath.

“You look...ravishing.” He breathed, finally putting into words how he felt. But nothing could describe how you looked. You looked like a goddess. Perfection, beauty, grace, intelligence, all in one. He swallowed, trying to keep himself in check. He held out his hand, “Well?”

You hesitated, looking at his soft hands. Hands that had never worked a day in their lives. You cautiously place your hands in his and he pulled you close.

“Let’s go.” He murmured. How he managed to make two words sound so enticing was lost on you.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms...?” The goddess in front of you purred, holding out her hand. She somehow made it seem condescending. You and Jimin had been glued to the hip since you arrived, but he had briefly left to get drinks, leaving you to fend for yourself. Every god and goddess in the room was intrigued by you. You just kept thinking back to how extravagant the ceremony had been, but you had been more taken with how gracious the bride was. She was so bright compared to the god of the underworld, but somehow they got along.

“Y/N.” You smiled, your lips pressed together. You looked, and in someways were, like a goddess, but everyone knew there was something different. Your impostor syndrome was driving you mad.

“Right.” The feline-like goddess strolled away. You turned, trying to ignore the headache you had, only to bump into another god. He looked startled, jumping back quickly. He had an airy quality of innocence and bright light around him. He was handsome, devilishly so.

“Oh! I’m so sorry.” You exclaimed genuinely, looking at the god with confusion. He had this air of familiarity about him that you couldn’t quite place.

“No, no, it was my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He said shyly. Then an arm wrapped around your waist, a drink being handed to you softly. The man before you got visibly more pale at the sight of the god holding you. He didn’t seem scared, just sad, maybe even heartbroken. “Oh, I see.” He nodded quietly, mood doing a whole 180.

Jimin grimaced as he watched the other man retreat. He felt his heart strings tug, but pushed the pained feeling away. You could sense the tension so you carefully unwrapped yourself, taking his hands.

“Let’s dance.” You said softly. You weren’t sure what just happened, but it didn’t feel like your place to pry. As you place your hands on his shoulders and he planted his firmly on your waist, he let out a sigh.

“I know you’re curious, you can’t hide things from me.” He glanced around as you both blended into the crowd of other couples slow dancing. “That was Agape.”

You nodded slowly. That’s why you felt so familiar. Anyone who was close to Eros understood Agape well.

“Is that was he goes by?” You knew Agape to be the innocent love, the first love, and Eros to be a more sexual love, one filled with desire. You also knew that Jimin didn’t go by Eros, he went by Jimin. People often got him mixed up with Agape, claiming him as cupid, but Agape usually handled first love scenarios.

“No.” He said quietly, as if losing his will to speak. “He... he goes by-” He suddenly cut himself off. “Actually, he doesn’t like it when people refer to him by his real name. Just know that I like you now. You don’t need to worry about him.”

You frowned, eyebrows knitting together. “I never thought he would take you away from me? I was just interested.”

“Ah, yeah, there’s been...tension.” He didn’t give you any more explanation so you sought to change the topic.

“Tell me about the other gods.”

He seemed glad to change subjects. Instead, he told you about Seokjin, the friendly sky god who knew of your predicament. Then he went on about his Taehyungie, Kookie, and then his hyungs. You smiled warmly at all his fond remarks, discussing them as if they were his blood relatives. It humanized them, though you weren’t sure if that was intentional on his part. You had just warmed up to the idea of meeting these gods when someone screamed.

It wasn’t a happy scream. It was a blood curdling, ear piercing, shriek. A goddess ran from the entryway, clearly alarmed. You jumped and Jimin’s hold on you tightened.

You could see Taehyung pull his lover closer and Yoongi pushed his wife behind him. Other gods were taking defensive stances, eyeing the goddess warily. She was obviously a low level god, her aura faint and you were sure she was to die out soon. Seokjin carefully approached her like a wounded animal. Being the oldest, he had this responsibility; to meet all threats to his circle with full force.

“Ah, Ms. Lee, what troubles you today?”

The entire room stilled, watching Ms. Lee carefully. Seokjin spoke calmly, but there was a fierceness to his voice, a demanding power.

“We’re under attack up above. They’ll be here any minute!” She was inconsolable. You gripped Jimin’s arm and he held you impossibly closer. And attack? By who? The enemies of the gods were long gone and any god who tried to cause trouble was sure to be eliminated quickly. All the gods seemed troubled except a certain war god.

“Great! Then we’ll go to war!” He shouted, anger in his voice. Being the war god, you were sure it was his natural voice. Jimin started radiating a more dominating aura. You realized then that he had hidden most of it as to not freak you out. Now he glowed a luminescent light pink. You knew he was quite literally a lover, not a fighter.

“Now, now, how do we know this isn’t just a set up?” Yoongi narrowed his eyes, clearly not wishing to discuss war on his wedding night.

“Well either way we’d still be under attack.” The girl beside Taehyung breathed. She had a point, you couldn’t deny that. Jungkook’s eyes met briefly with Taehyung’s lover and you could almost see the spark of tension despite being a little ways away. Taehyung put himself between the two subtly. You had a feeling there was a story there.

“Jimin?” Your voice was a whisper as to not break the very thin surface tension of the room. He squeezed your hand in response to tell you he was listening. “Are we in danger?” Your heart beat rapidly. You knew you were the most human here. You were strong, but you wouldn’t last a second against a god. Okay, scratch that, you might last two seconds, being a demigod, but you were still severely disadvantaged. You didn’t want to a) be a burden and b) be killed.

“I’ll keep you safe, love.” He murmured quietly, leaning down and pressing a kiss on the top of your head. You felt your body heat up, wishing those lips to be on yours. You just nodded along, not trusting yourself to say anything else. Then there was a bang outside and the sound of the guards running. You turned to him. eyes wide.

Taehyung was already pushing his lover and Yoongi’s wife together, having another god usher them somewhere safe. You paused, wanting to join them. You even saw Yoongi’s wife turn and look at you expectantly. All the gods and goddesses who valued their lives were running. There was another bang and it was chaos. Those who had been frozen in place were now running and those who wished to fight were materializing their weapons. Jimin looked between you and the door, clearly debating. You gently pushed him towards his friends, knowing he wouldn’t want to leave his brothers.

Then you pressed a quick kiss on his cheek. He flushed red.

“Maybe you’ll get a kiss on the lips if you come back unscathed.” You joked, winking playfully as if he wasn’t about to go out and face...whatever was behind that entryway door. He didn’t respond, just nodding firmly. You rushed to join the other two women who were considered V.I.P.s because of their status and relationships to the inner circle. As you were ushered out of the room, you heard the door burst open and you prayed Jimin was safe.

You shivered, the dress not doing any good to keep you warm. The women beside you had hardly spoken a word to you except one, who was the bride herself. She had introduced herself to you and then gone quiet. Obviously, she was worried for her new husband. The other woman was shaking like a leaf. You were surprised the relationship between her and Taehyung worked, but you knew love worked in mysterious ways. The bride offered you a small smile, pulling off her pristine white cardigan and handing it to you. You thanked her lowly before resuming your staring contest with the wall.

It was a nice room, a library somewhere even more underground than the underworld. The goddess of the Earth was obviously more wary of you than the one of the underworld. Though, from what Jimin had briefed you on, she had once been a human too. You were all worried sick for your loved ones, of course. No one could think of much else. The constant shouting was driving you over the edge. You just wanted some peace and quiet.

Having always been introverted, you didn’t enjoy crowds for long periods of time. Keeping to yourself and staying out of the way was the best. As much as you disliked the gods, you and the women in the room were sharing a bond. A bond of fear. You were quite the opposite from Jimin in that way. He was a very social person, always going out of his way to talk to people, his words always smooth and graceful. You, on the other hand, were just...there. You stumbled over your words, rambled, and had trouble concealing your emotions as well as him.

There was a knock on the door. You all looked at each other, eyes wide and waiting for the password to be spoken. There was none. It’s not them. You mouthed. The door flew open before you had time to react. You counted your seconds. Two seconds against a god. You had two seconds.

You were just confused, however, when you were met with a familiar face.

“Mom?”

The long forgotten goddess didn’t even flinch at the anger in your expression, nor the tears that betrayed your pain. It was all too much. She had changed so much. Once the goddess of wisdom, the original goddess long before Namjoon, she held herself with grace. But her frame all bones, no fat, her face was gaunt, and she looked liked she had just walked out of a halloween store. Your breath caught in your throat as she grasped your arm, hard enough to cause a whimper of pain. The other women were forced to follow along as well.

She escorted you out to the ballroom. You felt yourself go pale, stomach dropping to the floor as you surveyed the room. Blood, everywhere. You couldn’t tell whose was whose. Gods are gods, but they bleed. And when they die, they must wait to be reborn once more. You felt your heart clench, seeing the inner circle on their knees. They looked defeated. Seokjin was comforting a sobbing girl, only to have her ripped away and whisked somewhere else. This made the elder god snarl, but he stopped almost immediately after looking at their captors. And who wouldn’t?

They were ghastly creatures, looking like demons out of a novel of pain and horror. Some of them had melted skin, others had hollow faces and haunting stares. All brandished with various “K”s on their bodies. You noticed your mother had one on the side of her neck. The gods were arguing with someone, but you couldn’t make out everything, the argument in full on Greek. Then there was a loud cough. Your mother threw forth the other two girls first. You watched Taehyung and Yoongi’s eyes go wide, before going back, completely feral, to arguing. Then your mother pulled you in close.

“Y/N.” She said coldly, despite her seemingly motherly embrace. “You have disappointed me greatly, I pray Kronos spares you.” Her lips were a thin line as she threw you to the ground too. You tripped over the debris and landed on your hands and knees. You looked up, meeting the eyes of Jimin.

You saw a quiet fury. You knew Jimin was diplomatic, he wouldn’t yell, but you could feel his anger from across the room. He mouthed ‘I love you’. And you frowned a little. This was not where you wanted to be confessed to. You wanted him to say to you, alone, and secluded. You selfishly wanted that. Now the enemy had stolen your first I Love Yous as well.

“Put her with the others.” You understood that part. The masked leader gestured to an underling who unceremoniously dragged you over to the other women. You huddled together as they shoved you into a cage with the crying girl from earlier. Yoongi’s wife wasn’t crying, but she did seem to be in a state of shock. Taehyung’s lover was crying, trying to conceal her sniffles. You gently shrugged off the cardigan from earlier, handing it to her. She took it quickly, hiding her face. You even heard the smallest thank you. Underlings surrounded you like specimen, watching you like you were zoo animals.

“Yoongi!” The bride called out, panicked. You felt it too. There was something bad coming. Then the cage moved and you felt nauseated from the sudden movement. You panicked fully for the first time. Where were they taking you?

“Jimin!” You screeched, hand stretching out. His eyes widened farther.

“Y/N!” He called back, fighting the restraints and lunging towards the cage.

Taehyung’s girlfriend sobbed loudly and Taehyung looked over, concern evident as he struggled to reach out, mental focus just on getting to his lover.

“I love you!” You cried. “Please look for us, don’t give up on us.” Came out your broken plea.

“I’ll search the ends of the universe just to see your face, Y/N.” You heard him say. The underlings restrained him and you sat back, feeling defeated already. The others knew you weren’t a goddess and they immediately babied you, knowing your body to be far more fragile from theirs. Tae’s girlfriend shot you small smiles of encouragement and you did so in return. Yoongi’s wife rubbed your back and the third mystery woman remained silent as you were driven to gods know where.

Last minute A/N: OKAY OKAY I admit it, I didn’t give this...a great happy ending. BUT BUT BUT I promise you a happy ending in the future-

#bts #tatawrites #of eternity and euphoria #bts x reader #jimin #park jimin #jimin x reader #fluff #god!BTS #God!Jimin #Demigod!reader #love #proof reading is dead to me #I'll just fix it later if I have the guts to reread my work

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talesofealdancynedom · 3 years

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Meriam Craweleoth & Felin Haracwen, as girls in normal nobles clothes, wandering the local magic forest; Hope you didn’t forget chapter one, because it’s about to hurt.

Tale 19: Meriam Craweleoth: Mage Queen of The Grand West (chapter 10.1 -

Another Day 10/10) part 4. Stories of Old

Maps

none

At dawn, Meriam, Fredrick, and Eatheltwein, headed down to the dining hall for breakfast. To their surprise, they saw they had a guest; who was sitting across from princess Charlette, Eathel’s new wife. No one had stopped their intruder for one reason: they had seen him before.

Murdoc was helping himself at the table, surrounded by books, and his panther familiar Stearra, purring at his ankles. He ate like a small child, that just learned to use a spoon. Everyone took their seat, as the servants brought them dishes. They all ate their food quietly as dawn light poured in.

“Pardon me, master Monafyra-” The king started.

“You can call me Murdoc.” He said, without looking up. The pure audacity made everyone in the room livid, but not so much as to make any of them speak up.

“Yes. Murdoc... Why are you in my dinning room? And how and when did you intrude our palace?”

“I walked in the front of course,” Mudoc said, continuing to eat. He was wearing his plum and black wolf fairy robes, which made apear like an animal. He looked older than Meriam had remembered; she had lost track of time.

“You had many guards, but none of them stopped me. Either they knew who I was, or what I was. All of this is irrelevant to the fact I came to deliver some news; again. Then, there was gravy, eggs, and bread; And I saw no point in refusing the kindness of others.” Murdoc continued, whilst gesticulating and chewing. Fredrick waved his hand, letting Murdoc carry on; now that he had finished his food.

“I come to give lord Eatheltwein my journals, as I am retiring form magic to settle down in my homeland; don’t seek me. King Edmond used his power to give me refuge. Th people of The Far North believe mages can be made to give up magic. Your kingdom however, Meriam, is not so polite. I have visited each of our mage friends, only to see a trail of bodies. All our dear friends are nothing more then illustrations of tragedy, on my parchment. At the hands of wizards, I’m sorry to say. Common folk no longer think that mages are necessary to wield magic; as if that’s was all our worth. Even my brother Tiberius, and his daughter Fyra, turned out to be dead on my way here. I have good stealth magic to evade people. Unlike you, Craweleoth.”

“You come to tell us mages are dying, wizardry is spreading, and that the people of the Grand West of Anglia, are coming to kill my wife?” the king coughed.

“Aunt Merry can use time magic; she can get away, I’m sure.” Eatheltwein said, looking at Meriam, who stared back in fear. Everyone knew of the Mage Queen, but no one knew Eatheltwein was a mage. They had been led to believe he was a wizard, just as she had planned.

“You have all the time to run away Meriam, but no matter which way you turn, the events that transpire in Ealden Cynedom always snap back; you will die. Eventually. They will come for you shortly, I suppose.” Murdoc said. Then he read the room. Meriam looked petrified, Charlette was confused, Eathel was sad, and the king looked unwell. “I know death when I see it, my lady.” He concluded. Murdoc got up, thanked the servants, left all his journals next to Eathel and Meriam, and left.

“On a good note, we were invited to the borders of Francia, by my king father; to shake hands for peace! Aren’t you happy Queen Merry? Peace at last! We can all heal because of you.” Charlette chimed. The king coughed on his food, and Meriam rubbed his shoulder staring unblinkingly at Charlette. Eatheltwein seemed exuberant. Charolette’s words did not comfort Meriam. She was equally scared to go to boarder. Meriam hadn’t been there since she was off to get married; and saw her friend be murdered by her own people. To think, she was excited not two days earlier.

The royal court traveled steadily to the border between Francia, and Anglia. It rained, and then it shined, and then they reached the open meadows, that were starting to yellow as harvest season approached. Both parties stood a hill apart. Charlette waved to her father, who walked forward.

“Dear, I still feel unwell. Would you like to shake for peace? This was your mission.” Fredrick asked. Meriam nodded. She slowly walked forward through the grass. It smelled woody and dry, and brushed her skirt like when she used to run around as a girl. She continued onward. The uniforms of the Francian guards accompanying their king, hung loose, and their faces were sad and tiered. Meriam continued. Just at the border pole, Meriam stopped; there was some clover blooming by it, and dirt trailing along the boarder. The king stopped and held out his hand. He was not happy.

“Mage Queen. Your nephew is pleased with my girl, who appears to be in good care. We are tiered, and we wish to retire. Why do you not shack on peace, now that I’m repenting for my foolish legacy? Instead, you stare at clover that is at our feet.” The Francian king snapped. Meriam stared at it, and a tear went down her face.

“Did you know I was born in Francia, by Fort De Lapin. The magic forest of The Rat Rate. I grew up here, and I learned magic here. My mother left, thus my father found the daughter of a warlock, who had also recently had a baby. My milk sister Filen Heracwen, meant the world to me. She died here, trying to see me off as I was forced to marry against my will; she was shot by one of your men, for trying to leave with me. Possibly to send a massage of your own people, the reason doesn’t matter. I bet there isn’t anyone alive who remembers her name, or that she loved magic and her kingdom. She wanted to be my hand maid, and go with me on quests. Yet she died here, without a family to burry her, or siblings to mourn her. She passed before she could wed; unlike me, She wanted to merry a farm boy, and have three kids. Have her first daughter named Odette. Felin thought it was a pretty name for a girl. She went dark to open the Rat Gate, even though she was a commoner, because she loved magic so much, she wanted help it. Yet, she died before wizardry could give her that. And her only kin, uncle Normanwe was not there for her, because he was dying on your behalf in far off battle. I look at the clover, because it reminds me of her. This is the closest thing she will ever get to a funeral. Fourty years too late. I am sad, because I never got to attend. I am sad, because a young lady needlessly died, when she had a future in front of her. I am sad soldiers would kill a civilian. I am sad I got taken away from my home, and now that I am back, I wish to leave.” Meriam sobbed. Her voice echoed across the field to both sides, as it grew in volume and tears. Everyone stopped, and looked at the clover. Everyone had forgotten, or was oblivious to, why Meriam wanted to stop the war so badly. It wasn’t because she saw Francia was an enemy; but because she didn’t want anyone else to die. It was too sad. Meriam didn’t want to have this funeral. Everyone began to cry, and not know why. In the absence of a head stone, or body, they felt like they were attending the wake of not just a girl, who could have lived, but for everyone they loved who died; For a war that had long lost its purpose, and unjustly claimed many. Everyone, on every side, had lost someone. And no one, on either side, had truly had the time and relief to just mourn. Meriam, who was considered the most formidable player around the world, reached out and shock the king’s hand. She held her chest and went to her knees wailing alone in the field. Shacking the hand of a man who was responsible for her pain. At long last, Meriam no longer felt hate, only pain.

When they arrived home, the king was ill. No doctor could figure out why, but he remained in bed. Meriam tended him, while Eatheltwein took up royal duties. Fredrick would not get better, no matter the rest or medicine provided. Meriam even tried magic methods. She was given her own chambers, as they feared she would catch his sickness. Then one mourning, the doctor came to Meriam in her study, and told her the man she loved, wed, and had shaped her whole life, was dead. He had lived long, but Meriam wished she could give him more time. She could, with magic, but she pushed away that intrusive thought. We will all die eventually; she could hear Murdoc say in her mind. But time is precious, and she could not let go of the possibility of saving everyone, if she went back for them. Meriam took three days to leave her bed. And wore her purple dress to Eatheltwein’s coronation, and to dance with him. She did not smile like the last time she was adorned like a courtly lady. She wondered if Fredrick would have liked to see her wear his favourite dress one last time. She even wore her Francian pearls, from when she was young, but was never aloud to wear. She wore no makeup, and had a pearl comb holding her hair back in a knot. In the mirror, she had aged half that of her husband, due to magic changing her appearance.

Before bed, she took off the dress and held it; the fabric was still warm. In her bath, Meriam realized she loved that dress too. It felt like she was dancing with Fredrick again when she wore it. Remined her of his smell and smile. The dress was perfect, and barely worn. It was light, airy, flowy, soothing, and feminine. Unlike her black crushed velvet fairy robes. Her protective fairy robes were a magic gift made by the Fairy King, yet had half the value of that periwinkle gown. Then, Meriam wondered something: if all mages had fairy robes, which protect against spell and sword, why did they all die if they knew wizards were coming? Why did they choose to remove their robes and surrender to death? She thought. Meriam did not sleep well, as she mulled over mortality, and impending doom. She didn’t want everyone’s stories to end while hers continued. Her bed felt so cold without Fredrick next to her.

In the middle of the night, Eatheltwein came into Meriam’s new chambers, and sat next to her bed.

“Are you awake, aunt Merry?” He asked. Meriam shrugged in response. Eathel put the candle on the side table, and lay next to her on top of the sheets.

“Charlette told me to come and see how you’re doing; without uncle. I am so sad. We have peace at our borders, and wives hold their husbands; but you are alone. No other mages, children, or husband. Just me. I will miss you too someday. Are you also scared of the Wizards? What will you do if they come here for the raven gate, and for you?” Eatheltwein whispered. Meriam never thought about that. She was busy wishing for other people.

“I wish you to tell everyone you’re a wizard, and to not go into the shadow veil to see your cousin Odette. I want you to hide, bury or destroy the Raven Gate, so no one wanders into it. I want you to be happy, when I’m gone.”

“You would let them take you, so that they can feel secure? Even if it is a lie, and mages will still be born to magic families?”

“I don’t know. But I think that may have been what happened to my friends around the world. Remember Eathel; magic does not have sides, or possess malice. It would make sense not to fight, and instead accept destiny.”

“I don’t think your capable of either of those thing’s, aunt Merry.” Eatheltwein laughed. He was still a source of sunshine. Meriam reached over her sheets to hold his hand.

“Can you stay? For tonight.” Meriam asked. Eatheltwein nodded.

“Can we go on one last adventure, before I’m a wizard and king, figuring out how to transition power before our people invent guillotines. For old times sake?” Eatheltwein asked earnestly. Meriam laughed and grabbed his hand closer.

“Yes. Yes, we may your majesty. I think Fredrick would have wanted us to be happy too.”

Just before dawn, while the servants woke and prepared for the day, Eatheltwein and Meriam snuck out of the palace in their fairy robes. A note was left for Charlette; telling her to keep their location secret, unless they never returned. Which she was inclined to do, as keeping secrets is exciting if you’re a noble woman. In the streets, the peasants were busy starting work and waking, and the knights were changing shifts. Merchants started to set up, or pack to leave to their next market. Meriam didn’t even need to freeze time to get by. Only as they reached the Raven Gate, in the square, did Meriam pause time.

“Eathel, where do you want to go?” Meriam said, clasping his hands in excitement. She had hit the point of sadness, that results in manic giddiness when you can no longer cry, and have sleep depravation.

“Bantia! I’ve never herd or seen a single person from the land south the of Dania, and north of The Far South of Hispania. I bet that is the only magic forest you haven’t seen aunt Merry!” Eathltwein gleamed with the glow of dawn.

“No, actually I haven been to the wolf gate in North Moon, nor plan to…. Which means Bntia must have the Tree Gate… Magic plants… That colourful forested area in the shadow veil.” Meriam mused. Now she was curious; her seer nature made her thirst for magic knowledge once more. Meriam grasped Eatheltweins hand, and they leapt into the shadow veil through the Raven Gate one last time.

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#art #tales of ealdan cynedom #short stories #fantasy #meriam #felin #eatheltwein

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teddyshoney · 4 years

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So, in celebration of posting my 50th fic on AO3 this morning, I decided to make a masterpost of all my fics so far. I’m quite excited to get all of them in one place on Tumblr! I have written some stories that I recognize might squick some people out, so I will put those beneath the cut. Clicking on the title of the work or series will take you to the story or series on AO3. Each of my stories is posted on FF.net, too. Clicking on FF.net at the end of each description will take you to the story or the first story in the series for each series listed. (FF.net is rather infuriating in that there is no good way to mark stories in a series. If you have questions about series order on FF.net, feel free to message me, and I’ll help you out.) So, without further ado, here we go!

One-Shots:

It Was All Your Fault (9988 words) -- Finn and Puck are getting married! Mike and Kurt, their two best men, have put together a weekend excursion to celebrate the upcoming wedding, but they may not be the only ones planning something. (This really ended up being a Klaine story despite what the summary makes it sound like.) FF.net

Respect and Obey (8443 words) -- Blaine has always had a little trouble with his anxiety, and the pandemic is causing an attack. His Dom tries to help, but sometimes it's hard to shut off the voices in your head. (This is a D/s story with Dom!Kurt and sub!Blaine.) FF.net

Take a Chance on Me by Abba (1760 words) -- Blaine takes Kurt on a surprise outing that doesn't go as planned. (Written for Klaine Valentine’s Day Challenge 2019 but is a standalone work.) FF.net

I Could Fall in Love by Selena (1530 words) -- Blaine has had feelings for Kurt since the day that they met, but he doesn't think Kurt is in love with him. A few comments from Wes go to his head, and Blaine gets a surprise he didn't count on. *This story takes place while Kurt and Blaine are attending Dalton Academy and does not completely comply with cannon events. (Written for Klaine Valentine’s Day Challenge 2019 but is a standalone work.) FF.net

Whenever You’re Away From Me by Olivia Newton John (2921 words) -- Kurt's in New York, and Blaine is still in Lima. When Sam invites him to drive to New York with he and his dad, Blaine accepts, planning a surprise for Kurt. (Written for Klaine Valentine’s Day Challenge 2019 but is a standalone work.) FF.net

This Is the Time by Billy Joel (1009 words) -- Kurt and Blaine are supposed to be writing their wedding vows separately. But they're really struggling, and they both need just a little bit of comfort. (Written for Klaine Valentine’s Day Challenge 2019 but is a standalone work. I did not upload this work to FF.net. If I choose to in the future, I’ll add the link here.)

Christmas Cookies (2000 words) -- Kurt's headed back to work from the bakery when he bumps into a very upset Blaine. He decides his time is better spent taking care of his sad husband than at work, so they go home to work out Blaine's problem. (Written for Glee Potluck Big Bang Advent 2019 but is a standalone work.) FF.net

Series:

In Every Lifetime (314,220 words) -- This is a series that I’m writing with @jayhawk-writes. There are currently eight stories in this series, and we have plans for several more. We’ve been taking turns writing stories for the ‘verse. The series summary is: A series of connected AUs inspired by this line from Blaine's proposal: "It's always felt like I was remembering you from something. As if, in every lifetime you and I have ever lived, we've chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love all over again. Over and over for all of eternity." 1. The Unknown (864 words by me) -- Kurt and Blaine have a choice to make... FF.net 2. Domus Civita (62,612 words by jayhawk-writes) -- While on vacation to a city he's never been to, Kurt Hummel finds himself in a place that he recognized from his dreams. The person he always sees in those dreams is there, too, and they spot him and ask, “Is it really you?” FF.net 3. It Only Took an Hour (19,072 words by me) -- Kurt's been set up on a blind date at a bar that he hates. And the blind date is a no-show. There is this really cute boy that walks in, though, and Kurt can't stop watching him dance and flirt. The whole story takes place over the course of an hour with the exception of the prologue. FF.net 4. The Writing on My Skin (35,530 words by jayhawk-writes) -- Soulmates, when the younger of the two turns 16, both get a unique mark somewhere on their skin that will have or has had some meaning to them. They can write to each other back and forth by writing on their skin. Kurt Hummel has been waiting for his soulmate to finally turn 16 so that he would have someone to talk to about all of the things he can't tell his dad or other friends. Nobody really knows how bad the bullying has gotten at McKinley. He hopes that his soulmate can help him get through this tough time, but he has no way of knowing that Fate, and Noah Puckerman, will lead him right to his soulmate. FF.net 5. Nothing Can Keep Us Apart (44,467 words by me) -- Blaine is a Prince...well, he used to be. Now, he's just a lowly Peasant living in the city of Hucal, a kingdom under the rule of the man who ordered his father to be killed. Unexpectedly, Blaine falls in love with a boy, a boy who should be far, far out of his reach. And just as he thinks that things are looking up for him, Hucal goes to war, and Blaine must fight. Will he make it home? Will he get to marry his soulmate? Will they have their happily ever after? FF.net 6. The Silver-Scaled Mark (52,737 words by jayhawk-writes) -- Blaine is a half-elf living in a town of full-blooded elves. He doesn’t fit in and is bullied almost daily for his heritage. One day Blaine finds solace in the library and later finds a book that talks about the magic in his world. He is drawn to it and wants to learn all he can. After Blaine has consumed all of the books in his town, he goes off to college to become a wizard so that he can help protect those that are not able to adequately defend themselves. Once he has graduated, he finds that he and several companions are part of a prophecy that will help unite the races in his world. FF.net 7. When Worlds Collide (currently 70,521 words by me) -- Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson are soulmates and fairies; they have a wonderful little family, and Kurt is a successful author. When his daughters beg him to read his new book to them for a bedtime story, Kurt and Blaine relieve their pasts, and we learn exactly how they became soulmates and lovers in a most unconventional and unlikely way. (There are two or three chapters left to post of this story.) FF.net 8. Guarding the Shadows (currently 28,417 words by jayhawk-writes) -- Too distracted by their love for each other to make their own choices, Kurt and Blaine are thrust into an adventure they know almost nothing about. Born in mid-1600 London, they must overcome many obstacles including their financial barriers and their desire to find true love. However, there's a hidden piece of the puzzle they know nothing about: vampires. (This story is currently updating weekly on Saturdays.) FF.net

The Adventures of Josh, Jasper, and Liza (25,779 words in 3 works) -- In the first story of this series, Kurt and Blaine adopt three kids: Josh, Jasper, and Liza. This story is based on the movie Instant Family. The following two stories in that series recount a few days in their lives following the adoption. I plan to write more stories for this series. FF.net

Engaged for Graduation (8189 words in 2 works) -- This is a canon divergent series in which Kurt proposes to Blaine on the night of his high school graduation at the end of season 3. I have more stories planned for this series. FF.net

The Ander-Hummel Family (14,023 words in 6 works) -- This series is a continuation of canon. Rachel is Kurt and Blaine’s surrogate; we follow them through the pregnancy and some adventures after the baby is born. I am writing more stories for this series as well as finishing the last story posted in this series. FF.net

Klaine Is My Favorite Hallmark Movie (3320 words in 2 works) -- I didn’t intend for this to be a series but as I was trying to work on some stories for the Glee Potluck Big Bang Advent prompts, this series was born. In the first story, Kurt and Blaine talk about what they think their Hallmark movie would be like. Then, in the next story, they do a bit of roleplay for their Hallmark movie. I don’t know if there will be more stories in this series or not. FF.net

Blaine Has Fibromyalgia (4757 words in 2 works) -- I didn’t intend for this to be a series either. I wrote the first story about how Blaine got fibro in order to deal with my feelings surrounding the possibility that I might have fibro as well. The second story, which I just posted this morning, was born out of needing to deal with another situation related to fibro. I don’t know if there will be more stories in this series or not. FF.net

Below the cut is a list of my series that have some themes others might be squicked out by.

Puckurt Ageplay (25,736 words in 4 works) -- In this series, Puck starts dating Kurt and their relationship morphs into an ageplay relationship with Kurt as the little following Burt’s election to Congress. I have plans to add more works to this series. FF.net

Puckurt Needs Blaine (14,943 words in 1 work) -- This is a spinoff series in which Blaine joins the Puckurt relationship as a little. I have more works planned in this series. FF.net

Klainofsky (36,331 words in 4 works) -- In this series, Blaine calls Dave up one night out of the blue and tells him that he and Kurt are having problems in their relationship. This leads into an ageplay relationship with Dave as the Daddy and Kurt and Blaine as the littles. I have more stories planned for this series. FF.net

Blaine and Kurt (9376 words in 4 works) -- This is an ageplay series in which Blaine is the Daddy and Kurt is the little. I have plans for more stories in this series. FF.net

Kurt and Blaine (44,091 words in 6 works) -- This is an ageplay series in which Kurt is the Daddy and Blaine is the little. The first few stories are an introduction to their dynamic, but the third story, A Visit to Grandma and Grandpa’s, is where the series really starts to head in a specific direction, and we see the addition of Finn and Sam in a Daddy/little relationship as well. I plan to finish the last posted story and still have more stories planned for the series. FF.net

You and Me Plus Puckerman Spells Family (42,120 words in 5 works) -- This ageplay series follows Puck as the little and Kurt and Blaine as Papa and Daddy. Their dynamic begins when Puck shows up drunk at Burt and Carole’s. He’s recently broken up with Quinn again and due to his drinking has lost all his pool cleaning jobs. Having promised Finn before his passing that they would look out for Puck, Kurt and Blaine fly in from New York to bring Noah home with them to start his new life. I have plans for more stories in this series. FF.net

#klaine fanfic #in every lifetime series #teddyshoney #fanfic author #best friend writers #friends that write together stay together

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ginmo · 5 years

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Do you think JB will end together? Like, marrying and maybe even having kids? I know it’s a lot to hope in asoiaf universe, but I so wish they would!

GRRM is aiming for a bittersweet ending. There’s even a quote from him saying that he already knows who’s going to marry who.

“I know the broad strokes, and I’ve known the broad strokes since 1991. I know who’s going to be on the Iron Throne. I know who’s gonna win some of the battles, I know the major characters, who’s gonna die and how they’re gonna die, and who’s gonna get married and all that. The major characters.” [x]

He clarified that “major characters” includes the main Lannisters. This was said in 2016, after his last asoiaf book, which means marriage is for future books. It could literally be any pairing for one of the major characters, or multiple pairings. My point is, there will be at least one marriage for the major characters that didn’t happen on the show. Personally? I think there’s going to be a couple, and whether or not Jaime and/or Brienne dies by the end, they’ll still be one of them. This is going to be kinda long…..

Brienne - Marriage

Brienne was introduced to us on an unrequited love plot line.

Brienne was on her feet as well. “Your Grace, give me but a moment to don my mail. You should not be without protection.” King Renly smiled. “If I am not safe in the heart of Lord Caswell’s castle, with my own host around me, one sword will make no matter … not even your sword, Brienne. Sit and eat. If I have need of you, I’ll send for you.” His words seemed to strike the girl harder than any blow she had taken that afternoon. “As you will, Your Grace.” Brienne sat, eyes downcast.- ACOK

Brienne dropped to her knees. “If I must part from Your Grace, grant me the honor of arming you for battle.” Catelyn heard someone snigger behind her. She loves him, poor thing, she thought sadly. She’d play his squire just to touch him, and never care how great a fool they think her. - ACOK

And what’s emphasized in her first PoV?

Renly Baratheon had been more than a king to her. She had loved him since first he came to Tarth on his leisurely lord’s progress, to mark his coming of age. - AFFC

Reciprocated love is her arc. The first time we meet her she’s described as crushing hard on Renly Baratheon, and it’s during the melee at Bitterbridge. The melee is brought up again in AFFC, during one of Brienne’s PoV chapters.

In the mělée at Bitterbridge she had sought out her suitors and battered them one by one, Farrow and Ambrose and Bushy, Mark Mullendore and Raymond Nayland and Will the Stork. She had ridden over Harry Sawyer and broken Robin Potter’s helm, giving him a nasty scar. And when the last of them had fallen, the Mother had delivered Connington to her. This time Ser Ronnet held a sword and not a rose. Every blow she dealt him was sweeter than a kiss.

Loras Tyrell had been the last to face her wroth that day. He’d never courted her, had hardly looked at her at all, but he bore three golden roses on his shield that day, and Brienne hated roses. The sight of them had given her a furious strength. She went to sleep dreaming of the fight they’d had, and of Ser Jaime fastening a rainbow cloak about her shoulders.- AFFC

Let’s look at the structure. The paragraph before Brienne falls asleep is setting up the context for the dream. Paragraph #1 is specifically referencing the men who participated in the bet as her suitors, thus connecting the mělée to an element of her dark, romantic history as Brienne knocks every asshole into the dirt with blows sweeter than a kiss.

Paragraph #2, still connected to the romance theme of paragraph #1, transitions into Brienne falling asleep and dreaming of her last fight with Loras. She then gets cloaked.

Keep in mind that in a wedding ceremony, the groom places a cloak of his house colors around the bride’s shoulders. Now, knowing a professional author is writing this, and there’s a romance theme established in paragraph #1 with the term suitors, and if we’re continuing the theme, in her dream the KG cloaking is symbolic of a wedding ceremony.

Unlike the show’s garbage interpretation of Brienne, her life-long dream has never been about becoming a member some kingsguard (also note, knight and kingsguard are not synonymous. You can become a knight without swearing your life away to a KG). This is why she joined Renly’s:

Renly Baratheon had been more than a king to her. She had loved him since first he came to Tarth on his leisurely lord’s progress, to mark his coming of age. Her father welcomed him with a feast and commanded her to attend; elsewise she would have hidden in her room like some wounded beast. She had been no older than Sansa, more afraid of sniggers than of swords. They will know about the rose, she told Lord Selwyn, they will laugh at me. But the Evenstar would not relent.

And Renly Baratheon had shown her every courtesy, as if she were a proper maid, and pretty. He even danced with her, and in his arms she’d felt and her feet had floated across the floor. Later others begged a dance of her, because of his example. From that day forth, she wanted only to be close to Lord Renly, to serve him and protect him. - AFFC

She literally fell in love with him because he treated her, “as if she were a proper maid, and pretty.” BTW, this is introduced in her first PoV, emphasizing the romance theme to her arc.

Feeling too ugly and unworthy to be a lady, and after three failed betrothals and Brienne crying “bitter tears” over Margaery marrying her king, she left Tarth and pledged her life to Renly in the form of becoming a member of his KG (hmmm joining the kingsguard to be close to someone she loves? Sounds like someone else!). Feeling like a failure as a lady and heir, she played to her more masculine traits and married Renly in the only way she could.

The KG being a form of marriage to her is shown in the dream passage as well, by how after knocking her “suitors” into the dust, she becomes a member of Renly’s KG and essentially marries him. All the suitors are disposed of, but in the end, she allows one man to cloak her.

But… in her dream, the person is no longer Renly LOL. It may be his cloak, but it’s not his face. WHO IS CLOAKING HER? Jaime fucking Lannister.

And guess what? Jaime replaces HER BETROTHED in another dream.

Finally the doors opened, and her betrothed strode into her father’s hall. She tried to greet him as she had been instructed, only to have blood come pouring from her mouth. She had bitten her tongue off as she waited. She spat it at the young knight’s feet, and saw the disgust on his face. “Brienne the Beauty,” he said in a mocking tone.

“I have seen sows more beautiful than you.” He tossed the rose in her face. As he walked away, the griffins on his cloak rippled and blurred and changed to lions. Jaime! she wanted to cry. Jaime, come back for me! But her tongue lay on the floor by the rose, drowned in blood. -AFFC

This is romantic rejection from an actual event that happened to her, and Brienne is unable to stop her betrothed (who turned into Jaime in the dream) from walking away, but GRRM LITERALLY SAID HIS INTENT WAS BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, and since we were introduced to her on an unrequited love plot, with love always being a cruel joke to her, with romantic rejection and how she’s been so unworthy and undesirable as a lover smacking us in the face, RECIPROCATED LOVE IS HER ARC.

And it isn’t just love that’s part of her arc, it’s also MARRIAGE, because it has been connected to marriage.

Brienne - Motherhood

Brienne has a lot of motherly qualities in the books and has also never rejected the idea of being a mother. At one point, she daydreams about her first betrothed and wondered what her life would have been like if he survived childhood.

Had he lived, they would have been wed within a year of her first flowering, and her whole life would have been different. She would not be here now, dressed in man’s mail and carrying a sword, hunting for a dead woman’s child. More like she’d be at Nightsong, swaddling a child of her own and nursing another. It was not a new thought for Brienne. It always made her feel a little sad, but a little relieved as well. - AFFC

Yes, a part of her was relieved. I mean… duh haha. Who wouldn’t be? She was going to marry a stranger, she most likely would have been treated like dirt, she would have been young, and everything about her life would have been different. The point is, the thought still made her sad. If there wasn’t any part of her that desired marriage and motherhood, she would have only felt relief, and, well, “it was not a new thought” for her.

Keep in mind, Brienne thinks she’ll only ever be a fighter because, even though her book personality is very nurturing and motherly, she believes she’s physically unfit to be a lady and mother

“I will tell you true, Brienne. I do not know. My son may be a king, but I am no queen … only a mother who would keep her children safe, however she could.”

“I am not made to be a mother. I need to fight.” - ACOK

The next bit I wouldn’t really say this is motherhood foreshadowing, but I do still find it interesting that GRRM wanted Catelyn to have a little motherhood discussion with Brienne, when she could have spoken about it to any other character.

“Children are a battle of a different sort.” Catelyn started across the yard. “A battle without banners or warhorns, but no less fierce. Carrying a child, bringing it into the world … your mother will have told you of the pain …”

“I never knew my mother,” Brienne said. “My father had ladies … a different lady every year, but …”

“Those were no ladies,” Catelyn said. “As hard as birth can be, Brienne, what comes after is even harder. At times I feel as though I am being torn apart. Would that there were five of me, one for each child, so I might keep them all safe.” - ACOK

This next one…

Can it be? Somewhere inside our swordswench is a mother just squirming to give birth. What you really want is a sweet pink babe to suckle at your teat. - AFFC

I mean, it’s Hyle being an ass lol, but I’m not going to ignore the fact an author decided to put that in there, and it’s not the first time the autor connected Brienne to motherhood.

Also…

“A daughter.” Brienne’s eyes filled with tears. “He deserves that. A daughter who could sing to him and grace his hall and bear him grandsons. He deserves a son too, a strong and gallant son to bring honor to his name. Galladon drowned when I was four and he was eight, though, and Alysanne and Arianne died still in the cradle. I am the only child the gods let him keep. The freakish one, not fit to be a son *or* daughter.” - AFFC

She IS fit to be both! That’s the point! She bitterly thinks that, due to her insecurities. Brienne’s arc: lady, wife, mother, warrior/knight, heir. Her character exists to embrace the outwardly masculine and inwardly feminine traits, becoming it all and redefining what it means to be a lady and woman in that society.

Jaime - Marriage and Fatherhood

The narrative purpose of Barristan Selmy being released from the KG is to show that it’s possible for members to be dismissed. “A kingsguard serves for life” is mentioned THREE TIMES in ASOS, about Jaime.

“I can,” he interrupted. “And I will. There’s precedent. I’ll look in the White Book and find it, if you like. Crippled or whole, a knight of the Kingsguard serves for life.” - ASOS

“Tywin regarded Jaime as his rightful heir.”

“*Jaime* … Jaime has taken vows. The Kingsguard serve for life.” - ASOS

“I am a knight of the Kingsguard. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard! And that’s all I mean to be!” - ASOS

I think it’s safe to assume he’s going to be removed from the KG at some point in the books (I suspected for years that Jaime would be released from the KG, so when it happened on the show… well, my thoughts on the show: here). The narrative purpose of releasing Jaime from the KG is to release him from vows, to free him up for marriage and be heir. That’s literally why Tywin wanted him to leave the KG in the first place.

Have some bitter Jaime thoughts.

That was the first time that Jaime understood. It was not his skill with sword and lance that had won him his white cloak, nor any feats of valor he’d performed against the Kingswood Brotherhood. Aerys had chosen him to spite his father, to rob Lord Tywin of his heir.

Even now, all these years later, the thought was bitter. And that day, as he’d ridden south in his new white cloak to guard an empty castle, it had been almost too much to stomach. He would have ripped the cloak off then and there if he could have, but it was too late. He had said the words whilst half the realm looked on, and a Kingsguard served for life.

Part of Jaime’s arc is to step into that role of heir. He did something stupid and out of love in his youth, and now he’s rediscovering his identity.

As for becoming a father…

Perhaps he was the monster they claimed. If the Father Above came down to offer him back his son or his hand, Jaime knew which he would choose. He had a second son, after all, and seed enough for many more. If Cersei wants another child I’ll give her one … and this time I’ll hold him, and the Others take those who do not like it. Robert was rotting in his grave, and Jaime was sick of lies.

He turned abruptly and galloped back to find Brienne. Gods know why I bother. She is the least companionable creature I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet. -ASOS

Okay okay look at this. There’s a couple of things to unpack here.

Jaime never cared for Joffrey. That’s not a secret. If he were to make a decision about choosing joffrey and his hand, it’s implied he’d choose his hand. But then he justifies this by basically saying, “because he was rotten and I have another son anyway and I can always have more children” which shows that the idea of being a father is actually something of value to him. He ACTUALLY WANTS TO FATHER- “this time I’ll hold him.” Which to me is saying that fatherhood is part of his arc, because why else would that development be thrown in there? Sure, it can be there to show he’s maturing as a character and is desiring to be a responsible parent to Tommen, but then what’s the point of throwing in the detail about MAKING MORE children? Wanting to raise them FROM BIRTH this time? And, looking at structure, notice the transition from that paragraph to the next?

Jaime was sick of lies.

He turned abruptly and galloped back to find Brienne. Gods know why I bother.

LMFAO

WHAT

Jaime thinking about producing future children and how he wants to raise his next child -> Jaime is SICK OF LIES (this is before “He’s lied to you a thousand times, and so have I” And before he finds out about the affairs btw LOL just wait Jaime you’ll be extra fed up) -> WHERE’S BRIENNE? WAIT, GODS, WHY AM I DOING THIS? THIS ISN’T FORESHADOWING SHE’S MY FUTURE OR ANYTHING

GRRM as the Gods, knowing why he bothers

In AFFC, GRRM still explores this fatherhood desire, even without Cersei.

Once he found the Blackfish, he would be free to return to King’s Landing, where he belonged. My place is with my king. With my son. Would Tommen want to know that? The truth could cost the boy his throne. Would you sooner have a father or a chair, lad? Jaime wished he knew the answer. He does like stamping papers with his seal. The boy might not even believe him, to be sure. Cersei would say it was a lie. My sweet sister, the deceiver. He would need to find some way to winkle Tommen from her clutches before the boy became another Joffrey. And whilst at that, he should find the lad a new small council too. If Cersei can be put aside, Ser Kevan may agree to serve as Tommen’s Hand. - AFFC

And FOR ONE OF MY FAVORITES

Unbidden, his thoughts went to Brienne of Tarth. Stupid stubborn ugly wench. He wondered where she was. Father, give her strength. Almost a prayer … but was it the god he was invoking, the Father Above whose towering gilded likeness glimmered in the candlelight across the sept? Or was he praying to the corpse that lay before him? Does it matter? They never listened, either one. The Warrior had been Jaime’s god since he was old enough to hold a sword. Other men might be fathers, sons, husbands, but never Jaime Lannister, whose sword was as golden as his hair. He was a warrior, and that was all he would ever be. - AFFC

Jaime’s thoughts, unbidden, go to Brienne when he’s thinking of his men getting women pregnant BTW LOL, and this passage SCREAMS the fatherhood theme.

After thinking of women getting pregnant he PRAYS TO THE FATHER FOR BRIENNE. Whether it’s the god or his own father doesn’t matter. The point is, he’s making a connection to Father while praying to keep Brienne safe. And then he thinks about how the Warrior was always his god and, “other men might be fathers, sons, husbands, but never Jaime Lannister, whose sword was as golden as his hair.” WHY?! Why is that bit in there? In the same paragraph? And then end with a sentence that sounds BITTER AF about how he’ll only ever be a warrior? why the fuck did it just jump from Jaime thinking about Brienne, to praying to the father and then “LOL BUT THE WARRIOR let’s randomly talk about my identity”….?? It’s literally completely irrelevant? Unless…the author is connecting Jaime to THE FATHER for him to begin identifying with A DIFFERENT GOD because THAT’S HIS FUTURE and he’s hinting that BRIENNE IS THE ONE TO GIVE HIM THAT WHICH IS WHY HE NEEDS HER SAFE. (And of course Jaime isn’t consciously making these connections, I’m talking about the author’s foreshadowing decisions)

AGAIN

and this time I’ll hold him, and the Others take those who do not like it. Robert was rotting in his grave, and Jaime was sick of lies.

He turned abruptly and galloped back to find Brienne. Gods know why I bother.

And last but not least, the weirdest argument:

“Okay but if Brienne marries Jaime she’d be a lady and he’d make her be something she isn’t.”

This has always been a really funny argument and my favorite response to this is, “Jaime didn’t give her a valyrian steel sword to make a sandwich with it.”

Anyway, GRRM once said Brienne is Sansa with a sword. As mentioned above, Brienne never rejected her title as a lady as she does on the show. Book!Brienne ran away because she felt too ugly to be a proper lady. Her insecurities and the mockery she endured caused her to shy away from anything outwardly feminine.

Keeping in mind that Jaime and Brienne are literally designed to be BatB, imo it’s not a coincidence that Jaime and Brienne only think they’ll ever be warriors.

THEY WON’T.

They’re both going to finally experience genuine reciprocated love, fuck, get married, and maybe parent and if you strongly believe one of them has to die before the end of this then all of this will happen before that death I SAID WHAT I SAID.

#gm answers #jaime x brienne #brienne of tarth #jaime lannister #asoiaf #....#.....

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notgonnarememberthis · 4 years

Text

A Compromising Engagement - Chapter 3

Ho boy was getting to this point a struggle. I had very much intended on sending this chapter out at the beginning of December but when finals hit they hit HARD. I had the great misfortune of taking physics this semester and it was biting off a lot more that I could chew. I ended up having to abandon a lot of things that I wanted to do including getting this chapter finished and participating in Elementary month. I may still throw together some short prompts for that but I needed a long and restful break after finals. But I am back. No idea what I’m doing for the next chapter but that’s a beast for another day.

I’d also like to thank y’all for the massive amount of support for this story. I never would have imagined when mapping this concept out that people would respond so well. Hope y’all enjoy this update and again, thank you. Your kind words mean so much.

Sherlock wakes to the opposite end of his bed dipping violently. Falling asleep in a bed for him is a rarity, however, with a motorcycle settled in the place their couch once was, he had no choice but to retire to his bedroom once sleep threatened to claim him. He opens his eyes to find Watson wild eyed laying next to him. Her cheeks are flushed and chest heaving from effort to catch her breath.

He says nothing, allowing her to explain herself. “Mrs. Hudson let your father inside. They’re coming up the stairs right now.” Surely enough he can hear the amicable chatter of the other woman steadily approaching.

They’d been expecting his father for a week since he sent nothing more than a letter announcing their engagement. It would enrage him enough not to notice the convenient timing of the letter. Her mother, however, had yet to be informed. Hers will take much more planning as this one will be a face to face conversation. They spent the week preparing their story so absolutely no gaps or faults could be spotted and pointed out.

He nods to her, granting permission for whatever she had in mind. She pulls the sheet over herself settling herself next to him. She turns her back to the door allowing her head to rest on his chest. He places an arm over her noting how soft her cardigan feels. No wonder she wears it so much. Once again the smell of her washes over him, lulling him into an odd sense of calm he’s not quite used to. He relaxes into the hold savoring the small moments where they’re alone. Her breathing evens out and she closes her eyes as if she were sleeping all along.

He tracks them across the landing, first going to Watson’s room. He can hear Mrs. Hudson’s confusion at her being missing. She’d spied the ring once before, but said nothing. However, with Watson ‘resting’ on his bare chest, he’s certain she’s going to have enough questions that could rival what Mary could throw at them.

He ponders for a moment why they went to Watson’s room first, was his father planning on seeing her instead? He tenses at the thought but it’s her hand resting on his ribcage that forces him to relax again. His father’s observations could rival his own on matters that he actually cared about. Any sign of discomfort could clue him into their little game.

A swift two knocks announces the presence not waiting before the door swings open. Mrs. Hudson throws an apologetic look, it wasn’t her who had opened it clearly. His father stops in his tracks when he spots the woman in the bed, if Mrs. Hudson is shocked she certainly doesn’t give anything away. Sherlock raises one eyebrow at the two of them challenging any questions to be asked.

“Meet me downstairs.” His father is curt, not caring much for pleasantries. As he walks away Mrs. Hudson mouths an apology before heading after him. Practiced intimacy helps with the weight of her against him. She’d fallen asleep on him only once after a case involving children, so exhausted that she dozed off in the car with her head on his shoulder. He wasn’t that good of a pillow then but it didn’t seem to bother her at the time. Her fake sleeping is so convincing that he momentarily regrets having to move from beneath her, lest he cause her to stir. It’s her head turning ever so slightly that reminds him of the truth, she’s tracking the movement downstairs using Mrs. Hudson’s voice.

“Think he bought it?” She murmurs opening one eye to look up at him.

“I believe so.” She drops her head letting out a breath of relief. “Ready to face the beast?”

“Not as such.” Her soft laugh rumbles against his chest pulling a smile across his lips. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

“We’ve gotten into worse. Wait until we face my mother.” He laughs allowing the short moment to calm him before he faces the monster awaiting just below them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eventually he has to leave the comforts of the bedroom. Properly dressed he takes the stairs quickly, ready to tear the bandaid off. The quicker he can turn his father from his home, the better. He rounds the corner spying his father on the couch, a cup of tea in hand.

“Your help saw herself out.” Sherlock opens his mouth to correct him that Mrs. Hudson isn’t their ‘help’. His father doesn’t give him a chance however, rolling straight into the questioning. “Will Miss Watson be joining us?”

“She’s still getting ready. She’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“No need. I won’t be here long.” He places the glass on the table pushing aside the case file resting there. “She has your mother’s ring.”

“She does.”

“I was under the impression that the ring was lost over the years.” He rocks on his feet nodding at the statement.

“I found it while transforming the basement into Watson’s own office of sorts.” A lie, but a clever enough one that his father doesn’t push further.

“The ceremony?”

“Small. Watson’s family, her brother’s, Kitty and Archie. I imagine the captain and Detective Bell will be in attendance as well.” He doesn’t bother with an invitation towards him. It would likely be met with an announcement that he was busy and send a lackey in his place. “It is both of our wishes that it be kept a private event.” He can tell the statement bothers his father but the older man doesn’t push. He’d rather not imagine even his fake wedding be used as an excuse for his father to make contact with more criminals and those with questionable morals.

“Very well. The ceremony will be held at my estate.”

“No it shall not. Watson wishes to be married in the same place as her mother and step father. It holds significant meaning to her and I only wish to make her happy.” The lies roll too easily off his tongue. “You’re welcome to fund the wedding but as you can imagine, it’s not needed.”

“I see. Do keep in touch. I wish to hear more in the future but I have a meeting with a very powerful ally. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.” The threat comes out softer than he expected. Convinced, even.

When Watson finally descends the steps he’s already gone. She seems relieved but concerned nonetheless. He guides her to the kitchen where he’s already preparing their coffee for the day, his hand brushing her lower back as he fills her in on the conversation.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Where the talk with his father went smoothly, Mary was the opposite. It was to be expected but both of them were uneased and exhausted by the seemingly relentless questioning. Their first date, when it became official, who knows of their relationship, how many dates there had been across the years, and more were tossed at them across the hour with both of them longing for a break and another coffee.

“Joan why don’t you go get us some coffee I wish to speak to Sherlock alone.” They flash each other a concerned glance at each other. This was far from what the two of them planned, but they’d have to honor her wish in order not to raise suspicion. He squeezes Watson’s hand nodding to her that it was okay. She’s still hesitant in leaving, eyes lingering on the two of them even as she goes up to the counter to place their orders.

“Mary-” She places a hand up stopping him mid-sentence.

“Save it. You are hiding something.” Her jaw is set, accusatory. He swallows heavily letting out a sigh. “Why did you propose to my daughter? Joanie told me before how you hate marriage. I won’t be fooled by a simple death threat with the two of you. You’ve seen more than I care to remember.”

His heart sinks caught in the plan. He nods in submission. “Truthfully, I proposed because of my father.” The woman across from him lets out a disapproving noise that feels more painful than any scolding. No wonder Joan is so well put together. “He had a talk with me, not unlike the ones that I imagine you’ve had with your daughter. My brother recently passed and my father is not a young man. He said something that frightened me.” He sucks in a breath. “I don’t wish to be the only Holmes remaining.” He glances over at Watson ordering at the desk. Her hair is swept up and her suit coat unbuttoned. A relaxed polite smile graces her features as she speaks with the cashier. “Watson,” He catches himself using her last name still. “Joan, she’s the only one I’d ever trust to share that with. For so long I thought the name only brought with it death and pain. Yet she stayed and I still can’t piece together why.”

“Good.” Her simple response causes his head to snap towards her. “The ring?”

“My mother’s. It’s the one thing of hers that I managed to keep away from my father. It’s the only thing that felt right.”

“Grandchildren?”

“If Watson wishes I will give my life for the child just as I would for her.” A click of heels announces Watson’s presence again as she hands them each their coffee.

“Well now that the two of you are engaged Sherlock is going to have to start coming to our lunch dates.” The younger Watson shakes her head at the change in tone, shooting a look at him asking silently what he had said. He simply shrugs in response. “Have you told your brother yet?”

Beneath the table her hand slips into his, relief flooding over the both of them that thus far, their ruse was being bought. Not quite willing to look into the future at what challenge awaits them next.

@tamarknott @averageinside

Also a big shoutout to @lilspookydiaz for making this all possible in the first place!

#sherlock holmes x joan watson #sherlock x joan #joanlock #sherlock holmes #joan watson #morland holmes #super ignoring canon #cause i can't remember the timeline of events #Fake marriage au #fake engagement au #a compromising engagement

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hellyeahheroes · 5 years

Text

Ghost Spider problems

Disclaimer: the comic is not bad. Take this as constructive criticism

1. Start from the beginning

This is all you get when it comes to Gwen’s origin.

And before you say that this is mirroring Peter, no. Amazing Fantasy #15 was a fully fleshed out origin story. Amazing Spider-man #1 takes place immediately after Uncle Ben’s murder. Gwen’s origin encompasses years of her being Spider-woman with actual events that go beyond just a sparse origin. When Spider-Gwen starts, we are like coming in at the equivalent of Amazing Spider-man #300.

So Jason Latour tries to use flashbacks and detailed full page word dump expositions at the end of each issue to further fill in the gap between the shit the audience doesn’t know. The latter is quite frankly the laziest thing I’ve ever seen in writing. Rather than creating stories to establish characters and create a catalogue to their history, lets fucking just explain everything that happened in essay form.

This, til this day, pisses me off.

Anyways, when Latour did introduce a characters like a Harry Osborn, he relied on flashbacks to detail what happened. The issue however that he was simultaneously advancing a story while retroactively setting foundation of a character. One example of a past event being constructed entirely out of flashbacks: the death of Peter Parker.

In these flashbacks that are construed across multiple issues and not in chronological order of either the issue nor the flashback, Latour basically shows the audience for the first time Peter’s personality, how Gwen was after her dad indirectly told her about his feeling about Spider-Woman, and a little about their high school life.

The problem with this is that Latour relied on the interpretation of 616 Spider-man characters when he didn’t elaborate on their character for characters like George Stacy, J. Jonah Jameson, and Aunt May while simultaneously hiding behind the excuse of it’s an alternate universe to explain why characters are different. This comes with accusations of character shilling since he portrayed Em Jay as a selfish self-centered person, Peter as an arrogant misanthrope, but Gwen completely escapes her negative 616 characterization and comes off looking better.

So Spider-Gwen really doesn’t have an origin story. And no one actually bothered to make one even 4 years later.

2. Alternate Dimensions convolutes stories

Traveling to another dimension to just fucking go to school is cop out. Granted, the explanation as to why it was done was simply because Gwen doesn’t have a secret identity anymore, but okay, far be it for me from wanting a good time. It would have been more interesting if she persisted in trying to go to school in her universe while being known as Spider-woman, anxiety attacks be damned. “Man fuck consequences of a plot point, let’s just create a specific scenario to avoid them” is what McGuire decided to do. Didn’t even bother to retcon. Just fucking noped it.

MJ says what I’m thinking.

Barring this, it is a stretches my suspension of disbelief that ESU would enroll a girl who not only is named after a deceased student who you named a library after in memoriam but also looks like the girl who died and is around the same age. Oh and also, you hired the guy who looks exactly like her mentor who went on to practice unethical experiments and tried to conquer the world with them at one point but he has a different name so...

Granted, Latour twice left Spider-Gwen in a hole. He wasted Gwen revealing her identity to her father for the introduction of the character and Gwen then revealing her identity to the world to defeat Matt Murderdock kind of screwed the pooch. First, there has to be a way for Gwen to defeat him without sacrificing her identity like exonerating herself from being blamed for Peter’s death because clearly she’s innocent(self-defense and saving kids from some incel white boy turned monster is not an jailable offense).

Regardless, McGuire was dealt a shitty hand that nuked any possibility of continuing any story developments in E-65 without Gwen being under constant danger. I, for one, would welcome it and had Gwen continue to try, it would have made shit interesting.

But this is also taking away Gwen from her own supporting cast that she has had since the beginning and also from her setting. The more she is in 616, the less I am going to see of the Mary Janes. The less I see of Harry although I don’t mind that. The less I see of any character that was established in her series. And honestly, those new characters could have been introduced in her own setting. Hell, E-65 Jackal could have been a college professor at E-65 ESU without Gwen knowing if she attended there.

Why are we choosing to avoid superhero drama in a superhero comic book?

3. Don’t rely on 616 Gwen Stacy while simultaneously declaring this Gwen as a different character

For all intents and purposes, the Death of Gwen Stacy has nothing to do with Spider-Gwen. This book and her fans will deflect any criticism about the lack of parallels between Gwen Stacy’s death and Peter’s death by saying Spider-Gwen is not the same as Gwen. You sit there and complain that all Gwen Stacy is known for is dying yet you commentate using a completely amended character while simultaneously avoiding the literal hundred of issues of character that 616 Gwen previously had before her death.

If you read the Night Gwen Stacy Died as a stand-alone, what you did was the equivalent of watching the Red Wedding without the three seasons leading to the event.

Spider-Gwen can’t go five issues without harping on about every miserable or unhappy or dead Gwen in some other universe. It comes to a culmination that writers want to tie Spider-Gwen to 616 Gwen Stacy so much that she is actively going to school in 616. The same school that Gwen attended and has a library named after her in memoriam, and apparently her creepy stalker teacher still teaches at albeit with a different identity because no one apparently recognizes faces anymore.

This doesn’t redeem Gwen. In fact, you proved Gerry Conway’s point. 616 Gwen is so unlikeable that you’d have to completely change her character to make her not worth throwing off the bridge.

Point is that Spider-Gwen treading the stories of Gwen Stacy defeats the purpose of separating the two in personality. What happens if Kindred is revealed to be the ressurrected Gwen Stacy while Gwen basically caught treading her stories instead of continuing her own?

4. The Jackal? Fucking really?

Personal, but point still stands. I fucking hate the Jackal. Jackal is like the catalyst of feeling like you need to take a shower afterwards. Along with the Inherentors, this is one of the villains that go to far in being made for a specific purpose in that they really don’t have a motivation as to just why do they do the things they do other than to be a bad guy.

Warren Miles is a creepy professor with an almost paedophillic obsession with his barely legal and also dead mentee, 616 Gwen Stacy. And it’s only almost because Gwen was 19 and almost certainly would have engaged in a sexual relationship with her. I don’t buy that he saw her as his child because it’s not like Gwen was just this remarkable science prodigy that would warrant any special attention from a professor. No, she was a remarkable and hot co-Ed scientist that was in her sophomore year. He was trying to fuck her and hated that she was dating guys her age. I wouldn’t put it past him to quid quo pro her into some sick shit for grades.

And the thing about it is that this story has been done before with Mary Jane and it was more appropriate to her occupation as she was a model at the time and married to Peter Parker. She is going to get the attention of richer and skeezy men that would have the power to force her into questionable shit. Hollywood is pretty much a glorified sex trafficking ring, don’t @ me. Far be it for me to say male professors don’t abuse their station on women and sure, I’d like a Spider-Man story to explore that, but Jackal takes it to a whole other that defiles the memory of a dead girl. It is basically a type of necrophilia and ew ew ew ew.

His obsession with Gwen and clones doesn’t foil Peter in anyway. It literally carries this creepy and unsettling implication that if Gwen lived, he would have raped her. There has never been a good Jackal storyline. It is literally the CJ meme every time he appears. He is not an engaging or fun.

Guess who is the first villain Gwen faces in 616.

Why people insist on putting him in anything over more thematically appropriate and fun characters is beyond me. I don’t even mind 65 Jackal. He doesn’t seem to interested in teenaged girls. He just wants to kill her like a proper super villain from what I gather. But of course, we had to not be spared from the comic equivalent of taint that is Miles Warren.

@ubernegro

#marvel #ghost spider #spider-gwen #gwen stacy #long post

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years

Text

Bea & Ro

Bea: What time were you planning to go to mass on your birthday? Ro: [a time that is ridiculously early af] Ro: You're going to be there to present me with my rosary right? Bea: I thought it was just before the party, when is that starting? Ro: Traditionally, yes, but I don't want to hurry through it as if it's not important Ro: [a time for when the party is starting] Bea: Right Bea: it's just that it was going to be a struggle to get back for the party as is Bea: That's essentially adding an extra day to my stay Ro: but you're the closest thing to a godparent I have, spiritually Ro: I don't know who else could do it Bea: and I know that you really want to do this Bea: I'm just not sure if I can make this happen, the schedule doesn't have much wriggle room Ro: okay, I suppose you can lead the last doll ceremony at the party instead Ro: I was intending to have Ali give it to me, since she made the outfits and everything but I'm sure she'll understand Bea: I don't mind if Ali does it Bea: it isn't as if this is actually traditional to us Ro: I'm trying to create my own traditions, it means something to me in that sense Bea: I'll try to make the party Bea: Yes, I know Bea: but I can't have my life revolve around it for a full calendar week Ro: I can't help when in the calendar my birthday falls in relation to your university terms Bea: Of course not but this is a lot, Ro Ro: No, it isn't Ro: it's a party that you'll try to attend Bea: I don't know of any other party you have to attend church to go to Bea: unless it's a wedding Ro: I haven't thrown any other parties prior to this Bea: You know what I mean Bea: this doesn't need to be such an event, does it Ro: It's my birthday, it's allowed to be whatever I want it to be Bea: Right Bea: well I don't know if I can come, alright Ro: well, if you want me to tell you that's fine, I won't, because it isn't Bea: What do you want me to do? Bea: The workload is insane Ro: if you are unable to cope with it approximately a month after Christmas break, what would you like me to say or do? Ro: *before Bea: Don't talk like you have any idea about the workload, firstly, that's what you can do Bea: You haven't even done your leavers yet Ro: You only just got back, that's common knowledge Ro: being snowed under is a poor excuse Bea: They set the assignments at the start of term Bea: even if I have all term to do it, would you suggest I leave it to the last minute? Ro: I would suggest you learn more effective time management some time before you graduate Ro: since you asked Bea: Please Bea: You're in a strop but don't be a brat about it Ro: you're well aware of when I was born, it's nobody's fault but your own if you can't handle your own schedule to coincide with long established party plans Bea: I'm aware it's in the middle of term, Ro Bea: and I go to school in another country and am living on student loans Bea: I'm not flying back for every little thing Ro: it's one of the shortest possible plane rides and you're more than happy to take advantage of that when it suits you Ro: or Fraze Bea: That's my business Bea: and I don't come back as much as you're trying to put on Ro: and I don't ask you to come back ever, or for anything Bea: It's clear you're only concerned about yourself Ro: for one day a year, why is that so uncalled for? Bea: Because, all this is just ridiculous Bea: you aren't Latina Ro: look for the ridiculous in anything and you will find it Ro: or if you prefer, all great deeds and all great thoughts have a ridiculous beginning Bea: You do it with Ali, as per Bea: you don't need me for any of this Ro: that's just as well since you can't be relied upon to take part in any of this Bea: If it was important, I'd be there Ro: it is important to me Bea: I can't say you've inspired me to make any greater attempts than I already have Ro: of course not, your mind was already made up when this conversation began Ro: however inspiring I am or am not is irrelevant because of your unwillingness to prioritise me regardless Bea: You seem pretty convinced of a few things yourself Bea: It isn't exactly the easiest time for me, regardless of my time management Ro: it's my 15th birthday that approaches, not my 5th, I'm utterly convinced that waiting at the window for you is an empty pursuit Bea: You're being dramatic Bea: and if you'd like to compare 5th birthdays with me, feel free Ro: and yet I'm the one who's supposedly being dramatic Ro: one great sacrifice and you're content to never consider making another in my honour, however big or small Ro: okay then Bea: I didn't sacrifice anything for you Bea: They died, there's no good behind us Bea: I got help, we got out of there, end of Ro: maybe that's the end of the story as far as you're concerned Ro: it's the beginning of mine Bea: We aren't even talking about that Bea: yet another topic you know nothing about and I'm not willing to endure lectures on Ro: they died on the same day, it's impossible to talk about one without the other Ro: if I were being dramatic, that would be cause enough Bea: What does it matter? Bea: Can you remember it? No Ro: that in itself matters, having nothing to remember them by except you and your memories which you're as unwilling to share with me as you are to make any time to celebrate with me now Bea: I was 4, I don't have any memories either Bea: That's how it is, there is nothing to celebrate there Ro: Fine Ro: I'll leave you to your assignments then Bea: I will send your present Ro: Thank you Bea: Right Bea: if anyone asks, tell them what you like Ro: it's unlikely anyone will given how selfish I'm apparently being and how air tight your reasons for not showing up supposedly are Ro: besides, I have enough to do without indulging in any games of chinese whispers as to your whereabouts Bea: Then you best get on with it Ro: I have my own schedule under control Bea: I've not got the time to have this petty back and forth with you and if you're as busy as you say, that shouldn't be a problem Ro: finally, something you're right about Ro: it isn't a problem Ro: continuing this conversation with you is a waste of my energy Bea: Off you go then Ro: See you at Christmas, assuming you decide that's worth returning for Bea: Either way, you won't be waiting at the window Ro: precisely Ro: and you'll have my present sent if you don't appear yourself, little else mattering at times like these anyway Bea: You aren't upset I'm not coming, you're only upset your plans are compromised Bea: because if you remotely gave a shit about me being there, you would've approached this whole conversation differently Ro: experience has taught me what you value and what you don't Ro: I'm not about to make any kind of impassioned plea in order to be a hastily added footnote Ro: particularly if it follows that I'm to be blamed for your ensuing university hardships should you dare to attend Bea: You know me so well Bea: wait, no, we both agree that is laughable Bea: so spare telling me what I will or won't do or say, my sides are splitting as is Ro: perhaps I will when you respond in kind and stop telling me how I feel or why Bea: Experience isn't something you are solely blessed/cursed with Bea: I can only react to what I'm presented with Ro: you don't want to come, of course you're reacting in line with that, that's what I'm being presented with Bea: Of course I don't, but it's about obligation regardless Ro: you've long been free from any and all obligation towards me Bea: Don't be delusional Ro: you should make time for church if you're going to make yourself such a martyr to my existence Bea: Guess what, we're not Catholic either Ro: There is no we, my faith is my own Bea: Nah Ro: you don't speak for me on any subject, especially my personal beliefs Bea: It's bullshit, Ro Bea: no one chooses to be a Catholic Ro: I have Bea: Yeah, well you would love to be special Ro: I'm so unsurprised that you manage to find enough time to be confrontational Bea: If I were to actually call you out on all your bullshit, we'd be here 'til your 18th Ro: feel free to write the most urgent of your grievances in the card you'll send Bea: You don't deserve a gift that good Ro: that much we can agree on Ro: I don't deserve any of this from you Bea: For god's sake Ro: Stay there, as we said, nobody but me thinks it's unfair that you aren't coming Bea: I'm sure they do Ro: Well, I have not and will not ever care what your boyfriend thinks Bea: As I understand, it's mutual Bea: and he's more than just my boyfriend to you Ro: no, he isn't Bea: How do you think you get to pick and choose? Bea: you can't claim Ali and ignore everyone else, they exist too, like it or not Ro: In much the same way you and he both did, I would imagine Ro: if I were to claim him as my brother, being your boyfriend would be abhorrent and it's obvious what you would both rather by now Bea: Your choice to not integrate and be part of this family has nothing to do with me Ro: Likewise Bea: Fuck you Bea: you had every chance, this is the only one you've ever known Ro: by your own admission you had all the same chances, no sacrifices made for me and no memories of the former Ro: you chose him and he chose you, you're the one being delusional if you think there was room for me and him to still play happy families afterwards Bea: Now you want to believe me, convenient isn't it Ro: and you want to have your cake and eat it, it's an appropriately timed idea, at least Bea: This isn't about me, it's about you being ungrateful Ro: No, it's about you attempting to tell me how to behave as if you reside in an ivory tower instead of a glass house Bea: You're having your teenage rebellion phase, fine Ro: again no, I'd be more than willing to listen to you had you actually said anything worth listening to Bea: Sure Ro: Undeniably so Bea: No, bullshit, again, Ro Bea: you don't listen to anything anyone has to say because you think you're right about everything despite the obvious Ro: you can't garner a receptive audience because you're just talking and talking without pausing for breath or to listen yourself Bea: This might be a big conversation for you, but that's only because you never talk to anyone but yourself either Bea: I'm actually busy, with things far more important than your tantrum Ro: Go and devote yourself fully to those things then, I already told you to do so Bea: You think you tell me what to do? Bea: No Bea: I'm not so single-minded Ro: If I had any desire to waste my breath I'd do so during a piano lesson with one of my more challenging students, when I'm paid to Bea: Yes, that about sums you up Ro: thus allowing you to draw a line under me Ro: and all of this Bea: No Bea: that's your move Bea: if you're going to be as callous as to want it, at least have the follow-through Bea: I'm not making this one easy for you, lest I be accused of martyrdom again Ro: I wouldn't dream of trying to compete with you in the stakes of who is the most callous Bea: I miss a birthday, how much have you skipped out on, Ro? Bea: When are you ever fucking here? Ro: such a convenient scapegoat for you when you no longer wish to be held to your own account Bea: If you want to be a ghost, you don't get to defend yourself Bea: dead people don't get to prove or deny any claims made about them Ro: the dead are far superior conversationalists than you, in my experience Bea: Your imagination, it'd have to be Ro: boundless though it is, no Bea: You don't know any dead people, and that's the truth of it Ro: I've met lots of them Bea: No, you haven't Bea: and how many people turn up to your party is going to reflect that Ro: yes I have, and how many people turn up to my party reflects how many people I chose to invite Ro: for all the things you deign to lecture me on, having a select social circle is perhaps one of the most hypocritical Bea: If there was any element of choice, it'd be you and Ali Bea: it's obligation and the guestlist of your not family reflects that both ways Ro: this repetition is neither effective nor amusing Bea: It's the sad fucking truth and someone needs to smash it through your thick skull Ro: a chore you'll never be too busy for when you take such delight in it Bea: I hate talking to you Bea: do you seriously not understand how much you make my skin crawl Ro: and yet here you still are Ro: how ghoulish Bea: because I am your sister Bea: your actual sister, and it isn't optional Ro: hardly, we both opt out regularly as previously highlighted Bea: No, I don't Ro: you currently are Ro: and you have on many other occasions Bea: Not being able to stomach a whole performance from you trying to be someone else is not opting out Bea: I wouldn't still be here if that were an option Ro: you'd have to know who I was in order to have the slightest indication of whether or not I was attempting to be someone different Bea: I know who you are Bea: but don't insult me by pretending you have the slightest inclination Ro: you insult me with such a barefaced lie Ro: you don't know me at all Bea: You wish Ro: I'm not in the habit of wasting wishes Bea: How's that working out for you? Ro: Perfectly Bea: Then that's really sad Ro: You're a very convincing adult Bea: That's allegedly what you're preparing yourself for Ro: sober disenchanted maturity, so Wuthering Heights asserts among many other turns of phrase Ro: you're more suited to it Bea: You know, drunken, enchanting or youthfulness aren't words anyone would apply to you Bea: so I'd be more careful with what I asserted if I were you, you aren't likely to be thrilled with what you get back Ro: I am content without the constant appraisal of others right now, perhaps when I find my own way to university we can swap places though Ro: if nothing else, it'll grant you a rest Bea: Of course you are Bea: you haven't spent this entire conversation doing just that Bea: at least package your delusions as somewhat believable to anyone else or you just look wholly derranged Ro: this entire conversation is centred around the disruption of my plans and thus my self discipline is the only thing seeking to be placated as you yourself commented Bea: You've sought out every opportunity to assert your appraisals of me, unprompted and unforgiving Bea: I wasn't going to come out of genuine lack of ability, but the poison of spite and bitterness was barely held back between your pursed lips, no need to push hard for all that to spill forth Ro: however you decide to excuse your absence makes no difference to me Bea: It makes no difference because nothing does with you Bea: you'd rather I wasn't there because at least then you have something to lament over Ro: I'd rather you weren't because you've made no secret of the fact you don't want to be, as always Bea: because it's fantasy, none of it is real Bea: what is the point of us going through the motions of pretending to have this life-affirming bonding experience when it'll be nothing close Bea: how easily I could be swapped out for any other bit player confirms that, it isn't true, and this all means fuck all to you Ro: you could be so easily swapped out because necessity has dictated it on more prior occasions than either of us have the time or inclination to call to mind Ro: you kept yourself at a distance long before you left for Cambridge, lecturing me about my lack of integration or whatever you called it doesn't change that Bea: Because it was not me you needed to intergrate with, is the point Ro: romantically aligning yourself with Fraze and babysitting Rocky on occasion doesn't mean you can point out my perceived failings as if you're an expert, moreso Bea: This constant comparison is pointless and not what I'm talking about Bea: you were meant to be a part of this family Bea: YOU, not me Ro: and I am Ro: if only because they're obligated to care for and about me as you're so quick to point out at every single opportunity Bea: if you think that's the only reason, legitimately, for them, then you're proving my point about how out of touch you are Ro: you're the one who keeps propping up this conversation with that as the reasoning Ro: whether or not it has ever crossed my mind hasn't been brought up for discussion Bea: No, it's you failing to do your part, that obligation is a two-way street Bea: you're the one giving it negative connotations Ro: being in someone's debt rarely has positive ones Bea: That's what family is Ro: and contrary to what you believe, I fulfil my responsibilities to this one Bea: If you say so Ro: I do Bea: Then that's all that matters Ro: I'm well aware of what does and doesn't matter Bea: Okay Bea: not me you need to convince Ro: I'm also well aware of where to place my conviction so that it isn't misplaced Bea: Seems like it Ro: Goodbye Bea

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beautcous · 4 years

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Wedding Gathering // Khanna & Malhotra siblings

Tagged: @ofheavcnlysx

Involving: Veer Malhotra, Priya Khanna, Priya Khanna & Raj Malhotra

Veer smiled at the elder man who shook his hand, he’d been at this for about thirty minutes or so since he arrived at the venue. It was a family friend’s wedding and thus both his family and the Khanna’s were expected to attend. It appeared that like him, Raj as well as the Khanna sisters were all occupied mingling with family friends that one point he had lost them in the crowd. Eventually, he did find them once he parted ways with the man he’d been speaking to and made his way over to his brother and the two ladies who stood by him. “Unbelievable, our parents should be attending this but instead they sent us. Am I the only who doesn’t know about half the people here?” An annoyed look crossing Veer’s features because he had no desire to be here, after being here for a little over an hour he was ready to go home.

Being in a secret relationship with the man that her sister was promised to was hard for Priya. It wasn’t like she planned it, she and Raj simply got along. Yes, she knew that some people didn’t really care for his broody disposition, and yet it never bothered her at all. She didn’t know how she was going to tell Payal about all this however, she loved her sister and didn’t want her thinking that Priya did this out of spite, because that was not the case at all. Now, here they were, at a wedding, with her trying to act as if she wasn’t in love with Raj. Thank God she was chatty by nature or this whole charade would’ve been exposed by now. Minutes later, Veer joined them, his comment earning him a light chuckle. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to.” She said to him in return, her dark hues shifted about the room for a moment before it landed on him once more. “Yup, no clue who half these people are either.”

Payal sighed softly as once more when she'd been speaking to Raj and he had turned his attention away from her. Really, it should not have stung anymore she had grown used to competing for his attention when he did chose to give it, which was scarce to begin with. She worked with the man everyday for god's sake, and even then the amount of times they spoke was so brief that Payal she was imagine the few words they did exchange. So, she turned her attention to Veer, unlike her intended, actually quite enjoying speaking to Payal. "Don't you know our parents by now?" She raised a brow at Veer, and glancing Priya as well. "This why they have kids, they want us to do their dirty work." She was jesting of course but days like these it felt like they had agenda of some sort. "Well, at least the food is good. I'm sure we sneak away early no one will care." She murmured, giving one sweep across the venue before turning back to her companions.

Sometimes, Raj hated being put in the same room as Priya and Payal. Actually, he hated the situation he was in right now, being in love with the younger sister of the woman he was supposed to marry was not what he envisioned for himself. It wasn’t his intention for this to happen, Payal was a good woman after all, and he felt like a monster for treating her so badly at times. He couldn’t bring himself to stop however, hoping that if he pushed her away hard enough, then maybe she would hate him and he would be free to continue his relationship with Priya despite knowing that he would still have to marry Payal someday. Being quiet by nature did have its advantages, no one expected him to say much, especially now when he was bored out of his mind and trying not to stare at Priya. “No use in grumbling. We’re already here, might as well get comfortable.” He said to the group with his brows pinched together.

Veer let out a chuckle at Priya's comment, but it was fitting they knew a few familiar faces but this was sort of an event that their parents should have attended rather than the children. He was about to speak when Payal and Raj had also inserted their thoughts and unlike him the other two seemed to be taking their situation with much more grace than he was. His eyes flickered between the three, and while they all seemed fine somehow Veer got a strange sense from all three. "The food did look good..." He told Payal before turning his gaze to Raj who as usual looked as grumpy as he always did. "Says the guy who walks around with a sour disposition. But she's right, I don’t think we have to stay very long..." He then turned to Priya, "Did you get a chance to speak to Mr. Roy?" Referring to the man they had discussed at their meeting last week, the man seemed to be so charmed by Priya, Veer thought if anyone could persuade him it would her.

Priya had to force herself not to smile when Raj finally made a comment. He sounded like his usual self, always so grumpy, and yet, when he was alone with her, he wasn't that way at all. Raj was kind and that kindness might be the reason why she fell for him in the first place. She still felt bad about falling for him however. Payal would someday be marrying Raj, which left her heart a little broken. How she wished that it was she who was his intended, and not Payal. But there was no use for her to cry about it now when she knew what she was getting into. “Is it too late to be adopted out now?” She questioned her sister, her hues sparkling as the words left her. Then she hooked an arm around Payal’s and leaned in to say, “That’s why I’m here, for the food alone.” Deciding to ignore Raj--so they could keep up their pretenses, her attention went to Veer, where she then shook her head, “Not yet. Do I have to right now? He kind of creep me out.” The last part was spoken in a hushed tone, her brows scrunching together and she’d moved a little closer to Payal, as if her sister could shield her from the horrible man.

Despite her best efforts, Payal’s eyes still glanced over at Raj every so often who had his gaze anywhere but on her. She supposed it was not so surprising considering the man only ever spoke to her when it was required which meant mostly at work. There were many times when Payal would attempt to start a conversation with him, things she had observed he liked speaking about but to no avail. Is this how their marriage would be as well? The very thought was enough to instill concerns in her mind about their entire engagement. She was bought of her reverie by Priya, Payal’s gaze softening when she looked to her younger sister. His dark brown eyes gleaming a bit at her remark, “you know our mother, she’d hunt us down.” She murmured with a soft chuckle, as Priya took a hold of her arm, “When no one is looking, we’ll sneak some home with us.” She joked back with her sister, the two sisters were perhaps the biggest foodies to every roam the earth. Her sister's next words, caused Payal to tense up her eyes flickering with concern to Priya and she shot Veer an annoyed look as she wrapped an around Priya, “And you’re not going anymore either, isn’t that right Veer?” Glaring at the elder Malhotra brother.

When Veer’s comment reached his ears, he shook his head at his brother and returned his gaze unto the crowd. He had to do it or risk getting caught staring at Priya. It made him sick; this knowledge that he loved her and yet knew that he couldn’t truly have her. He shouldn’t have started this; pursued a relationship with the bubbly brunette. In the same note, how could he not? She was the epitome of kindness and her personality was infectious. Priya had been able to crack him out of his shell, something that no one else had ever managed to do. For that reason alone, he would always be grateful to have been given the chance to love her. He wasn’t being fair to Payal though, Raj wasn’t blind, he could tell that his intended held strong feelings for him maybe if he wasn’t so stuck on Priya, he might actually develop feelings of his own, but that was too late now that he was in love with the younger Khanna sister. A sigh left him before his attention veered back to the trio and a frown immediately set upon his features upon seeing Priya hiding behind Payal. What was that about? He wondered. “I think it’s time we leave.” He said instead, not wanting to make it seem like he was acting too concerned over Priya’s wellbeing. “We’ve made our presence known, there’s nothing left for us to do.”

A frown graced Veer’s face as Priya’s words of Roy giving her the creeps registered his mind. Truthfully, he had seen the other man flirt with Priya and always seemed to fond of her, but it annoyed him that he hadn’t caught onto the fact that he might have been making the brunette uncomfortable. In fact, he felt guilt for not being able to sense Priya’s discomfort when Roy was around. So, it was safe to say when her elder sister, Payal, glared at Veer and then subtly chided him, he had the decency to look a little bit guilty. He nodded to Payal before turning his gaze to Priya who was hiding behind his elder sister, whose arm was securely wrapped around her younger sister. Anger did flash through him briefly towards a man whom he considered decent. He then turned his gaze to the younger Khanna sister, “Why didn’t you tell me so before?” His voice was gentle of course but he shook his head, “You’re sister’s right, you won’t be speaking to him again. I’ll speak to him and give him a piece of my mind while I’m at it.” Veer looked over his brother and he couldn’t help but note how distracted Raj looked that he had missed the entire conversation. But Veer nodded, “He’s right, we showed our faces, that should be good enough. But, Raj, the girls want to eat first, let’s join them and then we’ll head out.” As they made their way towards the food section, Veer’s eyes sought out hoping to find Meera but he wasn’t even sure she’d attended this function. He had thought about texting his childhood friend and invited her as his plus one but he couldn’t muster up the courage to do so.

If anyone would defend Priya, it would be Payal which was why she felt even guiltier for having to deceive her sister. She didn’t know how much longer she was going to be able to keep up this charade. As much as she loved Raj, she couldn’t hide them forever, and what happens when the two tie the knot? She wasn’t going to sit here and pretend as if she didn’t matter; she deserved to be loved and to be with someone who she could show her affection to freely. No matter how much she wished for the man to be Raj, the truth was, they were doomed from the beginning. She continued to hide behind her sister, her hues sad, hoping that Veer would give her a break and not force her to interact with the creepy man. At least she had Payal on her side on this; her older sister would always have her back and she couldn’t be more grateful to have her in her life. “I didn’t want to ruffle any feathers…” She answered Veer quietly; he looked rather angry, something that she’d never seen in him. It was enough to send alarm bells ringing; for her not to mess with him, not that she would. Once the matter was settled, she fluttered her lashes and turned to Priya, “Can we eat before we leave or do you still want to sneak some home with us?” Her dark eyes were filled with mischief as she posed the question at her sister. “I think we should try the latter.”

Once more she could see that Raj’s attention was not anywhere nearing the remaining trio and this wasn’t the fist time she’d noticed him so aloof. There were countless occasions where when the four them were together and his mind would be diverted and where it ventured too, something she wish she knew. But then it again, when it came to Raj she wished for a lot of things that she was beginning to sense would never be fulfilled. A part of Payal wanted to attempt to keep her distance from him, she wished she didn’t notice him or want him. More importantly, she wished she could know what went on Raj’s mind in regards to her. Annoyed at herself for letting her thoughts wander over to the obvious man, she focused back on Priya, catching Veer’s agreement that the creep would not be anywhere near her sister. Satisfied at the sincere look on Veer’s face, she turned back to her baby sister who still huddled near Payal. A smile came to Payal’s face, her sister always appeared to fix her mood no matter what her troubles were. “Don’t be ridiculous, no business deal is important over you.” She told her firmly, before shaking her head, “Oh, no we can do both. we are most definitely eating here and then taking some. No one will notice, well give the extra to the boys, they eat alot anyway so no one will raise eyesbrows.” Throwing an amused look to Raj who had finally turned back to the group and then to Veer.

Raj knew that he shouldn’t notice, nor should he react but hearing how scared Priya sounded made him want to go over to this Roy person and rip his head off. He wasn’t one to resort to anger however, but it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t protect the ones he loved. Although at this point, he knew he had no right to react which was why he was grateful for Payal for protecting her sister. It made him respect her even more. All this time, he didn’t see how fiercely loyal she was towards Priya and how she would step in to protect her if needs be, he simply found her annoying because he hated the fact that he was obligated to marry her. It wasn’t her fault though; this whole arranged marriage was orchestrated by their families and it wasn’t fair of him to resent his intended over something that she had no control over. Another sigh left him and he peered back at his older brother, nodding his head at the other. “Let them eat then.” His gaze found Payal’s for a moment; then something unexpected happened, he actually noticed how beautiful she was. The best words he could use to describe her was; she was effulgent. Her remark forced him to look away; chiding himself for noticing his intended when he was in love with Priya. He cleared his throat loudly afterwards and once again, his gaze went back to the crowd, hoping that his efforts would allow him to forget the weird event that just transpired.

Veer opened his mouth to respond to Priya’s comment of not wanting to stir up anything when Payal beat him to it. Quickly assuring her younger sister that nothing to precedence over her safety and Veer agreed. Normally, he was a lot more perceptive how that slipped past him he didn’t know but he’d take care of Roy on his own. He had no interest in working with someone who went around harassing women. “Next time something like this happens, I want you to tell me immediately.” Veer told Priya gently but still firmly the same, she was his family In some way too as Payal was, both of their safety immediately being his concern. His gaze then moved to Raj who still looked a bit distracted but once he turned back to the others. A chuckle left Veer’s lips at Payal’s comment, “Easy there, you both want to sneak the food you can hold it yourselves.” he countered with a short grin. Raj conceded too at their request, and Veer steered them all towards the food section, walking with the two women. But he stepped right beside his younger brother, “You’re more distracted than usual, everything okay?” Concern on his features as he looked towards Raj.

The more Payal stood up for Priya, the guiltier she felt. There were times when she wished she was unfeeling and cold; where she didn’t care about anyone’s feelings but hers alone. How unfortunate was it that she could never do that? That above all else, her sister would always come first and this relationship that she’d been trying to keep a secret, it was bound to come to an end. She couldn't live like this anymore; she wasn’t going to be kept as a dirty little secret, she deserved better. Most importantly, she wanted her sister to be happy and she would never have happiness as long as Priya was in the way. The only hurdle now was breaking hers and Raj’s heart in order to achieve that goal. As always however, despite her own heartache, she was good at keeping a smile on her face. “You say that, but others might not.” She threw the remark at Payal as she looked on sheepishly before her dark hues trailed over to Veer who still looked rather intimidating as he addressed her. “I will.” She promised and immediately put her focus on Payal because quite frankly, having to see Veer like this--a little riled up--scared her. “Has anyone told you lately how smart you are?” She complimented the older Khanna sister as she gave her arm a gentle squeeze, all the while, she made sure not to look at Raj once more when he spoke. God, how was she ever going to let him go when just hearing the sound of his voice made her heart beat faster? “You can help us eat it. I’ve seen you eat. I don’t know how you’re still so skinny when you eat like a horse.” She challenged Veer with a raised brow before taking Payal’s hand and leading her over to where the food was.

At Priya’s words, she raised a brow at her as Payal’s protective instincts kicked in tenfold for her younger sister. “Oh yeah? Give me their names, when I’m through them you’ll find their opinions have changed quite a lot on this matter.” A dark promise in her voice as she thought of who would place Priya’s safety in jeopardy and she was a bit shocked at the words that slipped from her sister’s lips. Her arm secured around Priya a bit tighter than before, Priya had to know she’d deal with anything and forgive anything but she would not forgive anyone who harmed her sister. She smiled a bit at Veer’s response, relief washing over Payal that Veer would take of Priya during work when Payal could not be around her sister during those hours. She then grinned at Priya, “You jsut realized this now? I’m hurt, Priya.” Placing her hand over her heart dramatically before laughing both at Veer’s remark and then Priya’s response to him. Before the four moved to the food section, she looked up to find Raj’s gaze on her, and as always her heart skipped a bit as he held her gaze for moments longer. She felt a smile forming as he still stared at her, a smile she usually only ever gave him. He didn’t say anything but simply stared at her, and Payal relished in the brief moments he had noticed since they arrived at the wedding. God, if he only knew what sort of effect he had on Payal. Eventually Raj broke the stare much to her disappointment, but she shook it off and walked along beside her sister joking with her some more as she saw the boys were immersed in their own conversation.

Raj couldn’t have felt more confused than in this very moment. He loved Priya, she was the light of his life, and yet, he’d checked out Payal anyway. When their eyes met briefly, he swore his heart thudded harder behind his ribcage. What was wrong with him? Why was he suddenly feeling so confused? It was probably because he was being forced to be here. Having to be in close proximity of both Priya and Payal was confusing his feelings for the women. That had to be the answer because he refused to believe that his feelings for the younger Khanna sister could easily fade, even though deep down the knowledge of their doomed relationship loomed over him like a dark cloud. He was sad about their impending break, knowing that it would break both of their hearts, he was sure that it would. However, as he watched Payal walking with Priya from the corner of his eye, the idea of being married to his intended didn’t make him want to run as it did before. Now, all he felt was curiosity as he wondered what life would be like for them as a married couple. Those thoughts were still consuming him when he heard his brother’s question. He blinked a few times and shrugged his shoulders; trying to act nonchalant before he answered Veer. “Why wouldn’t I be? I just want to get out of here, so let’s eat and leave, yeah?” Hoping that his brother would buy his comment, he picked up a plate and proceeded to scan through the selection of dishes.

Veer let out a hearty laugh at Priya’s comment but of course this hadn’t been the first time she’d made some cheeky comment and made him laugh. In fact, he could recall each time he laughed so fully it was usually because of Priya, but he supposed it wasn’t so shocking. He’d always found the younger Khanna sister to be quite bubbly and charming, getting people to smile and laugh was a specialty of hers. Coupled with her striking looks and that charming dimple helped her too. For a moment, Veer was a bit confused as he realized he noticed such things about Priya but he supposed he’d known her long enough that you’re bound to pick up little things here and there. “It’s called a gym, Priya.” he said flashing her an amused grin, “Works wonders, and I prefer the word fit.” He threw in before the girls began walking ahead of them and Veer fell into step besides his brother who looked as if he had a lot running on his mind. Veer waited for a response but the longer Raj took to respond the more worried he grew for his younger brother. His response came and it made Veer from slightly, he also knew when he was being fully honest. “That’s hardly a reason for the way you’d been behaving. You look like you’re thinking really hard about something, and I don’t think it’s this wedding. I won’t push you to share if you’re not ready.” He paused then, “If it’s serious, I hope you’ll tell me.” He told Raj firmly, letting him see the seriousness in his eyes as the words were spoken with authority.

Once Priya chose to push aside her feelings for Raj, it was easy for her to focus on her sister. Payal always had the propensity of making her feel better, no matter how hard of a time she was having, she knew she could lean on her sister for support and she loved the other woman all the more for it. “I’m not going to do that. You might kill all of them and then I’d lose you forever. I can’t lose you, you’re important to me…” She remarked with a childlike innocence in her tone of voice, although her earnestness could not be masked. Without Payal, she wouldn’t know how she would even begin to live her life. While most people had rivalry with their sibling, she never felt that way towards Payal. They were always close, having been born a mere two years apart bonded them. She could remember a time when they would do everything together and things hadn’t changed all that much even now as they bloomed into adulthood; she would always need her sister. For this reason alone, Priya was willing to give up the love she shared with Raj. She would find another man to love someday, but she could never replace her sister. “I always knew that you were smart, silly. Of course I have. I’m just asking if you knew.” She returned kindly, chuckling at her sister’s feigned offense. Veer’s statement shifted her attention back to him, where she scrunched up her nose and let out a laugh, “You’re skinny, you’re like a walking stick. Just accept that, Veer.” She was only teasing him of course, although Veer was tall, she’d always known that he was a looker. His good looks differed from Raj. While the younger brother had a dangerous bad boy edge to his handsomeness, Veer was the complete opposite, he looked like the type of man a woman should fall in love with. However, as anger sparked behind his dark hues earlier, she wondered if he was even as wholesome as he portrayed himself to be. When she realized that she had been thinking about him for far too long, she shook the thoughts away and focused instead on the spread before them.

Payal’s gaze softened further as she looked to her sister, her heart warming at Priya’s words but she knew how much her sister loved and in turn Priya knew how much she loved her in return. But priya was definitely the more sentimental of the two girls and her words never failed to get Payal emotional. It was the innocence in which Priya said those words that perhaps made her so emotional but seeing as they were in public she was able to school her features. So she chuckled softly, “It’s scary how well you know me but don’t worry I’m not going anywhere and If I had to, I’d take you with me.” She told her sincerely, the two had been close since children and not having Priya in her life was simply unacceptable. She shot Priya another amused look, “Aren’t you just cheeky?” She retorted as the two made their way towards the food, her eyes did glance at Raj once more but she saw he was speaking to Veer and turned back to her sister. Trying hard to push the brief moment she shared with him to the side because she almost afraid she had imagine the eye-lock she had with Raj.

COMPLETE

#priya x payal #priya x veer #raj x veer #raj x payal

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