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#story: dirty blood dynasties
vivacissimx · 2 years
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What has always been true is that the Arya/Lyanna parallels work both ways. It’s extremely meaningful to Lyanna to be paralleled with Arya in order to shed light on Lyanna’s inner world, in preparation for the reveal of a long held secret.
How it works is like this: because Arya defends Mycah against Joffrey, we can understand Lyanna’s defense of Howland. Because Arya never once strays from wanting justice for her brutally murdered friend, we can imagine what drove Lyanna to masquerade as the Knight of the Laughing Tree. And because Arya doesn’t think twice about any of this, we can understand Lyanna's convictions.
Because Arya loves exploring and discovering new plants she’s never seen before, because she brings flowers to Ned out of love, we can understand Lyanna being "fond of flowers" as part of a curious and affectionate nature.
Because Arya is never impressed with Joffrey, we can understand Lyanna's immediate assessment of Robert. Because her siblings react to news of Arya's betrothals to unsuitable partners with "Arya won't like that one bit" & "she never will, not Arya" & "[i]f he tries to lay a hand on her, she'll fight him," we can understand the gulf that opened between Lyanna and her family after her betrothal. Because amiable Elmar Frey looked down on Nan the serving girl and Arya resented him for it, we can see Lyanna judging Robert based on how he treats Mya/Mya's mother.
Because Bran thinks Arya "wasn't scared to get dirty, and she could run and fight and throw as good as a boy," because he first assumes Lyanna & Benjen fighting are him & Arya, we can imagine Lyanna & Benjen's relationship.
Because Arya is wolf-blooded and we see that written out, we can understand Lyanna as well.
That isn't to say it isn't meaningful to Arya, having Lyanna scattered through her story. Arya's complex relationship with mentor figures is a post to itself, but in brief: legacies are passed down by people, to people, who then use them as a starting/turning point. Daenerys Targaryen understands the duality of her family's legacy through the fragments of Viserys as her brother, king, and abuser; when he dies, she is the last, and she births dragons. Jon Snow is groomed for command in the Night's Watch just like his uncle and ancestors before him, charged with protecting his homeland in the shadow of an eight thousand year old Stark dynasty. Tyrion is Tywin writ small. The last greenseer waited generations just to haunt Brandon Stark's dreams.
Arya doesn't have that. She has a direwolf, she's a warg, and she has the North in her face. Wolf child, blood child; scattered yet meaningful pieces of a puzzle. By connecting her to Lyanna who came before her, it's a lineage. It's no longer an accident. Arya isn't Lyanna any more than Daenerys is Aegon the Conqueror, or Jon Snow is any of his predecessors, or Tyrion is Tywin, or Bran is Bloodraven, or Edric Dayne is Arthur, or Arianne is Nymeria. These parallels to (pre-series) characters represent a benchmark to be surpassed, whether or not the characters realize it themselves, and in Arya's case is no less.
Intentional parallels like this ask us: what if you were part of something - maybe even the culmination of something - that's been brewing for a very long while now? What if who & what you are is so important, so necessary, that time would fold in on itself for you?
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powerfulscribbles · 2 months
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In Need of An Aid - A G/t Elden Ring fic
to Chapter 1 | Chp. 2 l Chp. 3
Prologue: Ambitions
Chapter summary: Lord Mohg summons Varré at the Mohgwyn dynasty palace to discuss something of great significance.
Warnings: creepy undertones, possessiveness, the whole Mohgwyn dynasty and Mohg lore are their own warning.
This story is soon to contain g/t stuff, so if that's not your thing it's in your best interest to click away! Thank thee kindly~
Words: 2,3k
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Varré had to hurry. Unanticipatedly, his Lord had requested his presence at the Mohgwyn Dynasty Palace.
He quickly scanned the damp, marshy area surrounding the Rose Church to see if someone was either coming or looking his way, before teleporting inside the mausoleum; all thanks to his Pureblood Knight's medal that he always had on him.
As he appeared, a Sanguine Noble was already expecting him to escort him to the throne room.
The walk was silent. Only his own footsteps echoed in the corridor, the taller creature not making a single sound as it was leading the way.
Varré had no idea why the Luminary had planned a private meeting with him, all of a sudden.
Thankfully he was not too busy at the moment, and he even had just cleaned his dirty gloves and changed his vest. Lord Mohg wouldn’t have most likely minded the bloodspots on the clothes, but nothing matters more than the respect before someone so close to the divine.
When they reached the entrance to the vast room, the Sanguine Noble behind him slowly disappeared, sinking ominously into a pool of blood.
The war surgeon took a couple of deep breaths. He had nothing to fear.
He was proud of his role in the upcoming birth of the dynasty, nobody deserved praises more than him. So many Knights of Blood anointed and strayed away from the utter misguiding path of the Two Fingers, all his own work. Never-ending offerings of blood to the Divinity, they could fill a bottomless ocean with it.
That being said though, the Luminary rarely requested to speak with him personally. Interrupting his own slumber besides the Divinity.
Must be a very important matter, no doubt.
He trusted his Lord with all his heart. He trusted him even more than he did himself.
Draped in his usual elegant, elaborated robe, the one-eyed Omen awaited for him at the bottom of the throne room.
“My sublime Lord” the white mask said, bowing deeply. “Have you asked to see me?” he continued, maintaining the bow and looking down still.
“I have, dear Varré. You may approach now” the demigod commanded him. Trident in one hand, he raised a clawed finger to call him forth.
The surgeon’s eyes followed his master’s movement and stood up, making his way towards him. He wondered if the Luminary could feel the slight nervousness in his stride. Despite the unusual call, the cursed son of Queen Marika looked very pleased, even smirking as his servant was coming closer.
“You might be wondering why I have wished to summon you today, on this fine afternoon” the monarch broke the silence, placing his large hand on Varré’s shoulders. The latter nodded, definitely impressed by his Lord’s courtesy.
“Yes, oh Luminary. Is something the matter?” the surgeon inquired, with a concerned tone.
“Oh no, no. Not at all. For now, at least.” The Lord looked down at him with his single dark yellow eye, inquisitively.
“I have learned that you have befriended a maidenless Tarnished. A lowborn woman, riding a spirit steed, that often comes to visit and chat with you. She must treat you so nicely. What a sweetheart.”
When the Luminary mentioned her, the usually very composed surgeon couldn’t help but blush subtly under his mask. His Lord never ceased to impress him, he already knew about her!
“An unique breed indeed. One that was able to even strike down a shardbearer demigod and gather a Great Rune of the shattered Elden Ring. I can feel she is going to grow even more powerful as the days go by. No other Tarnished but Roundtable Knight Vyke the Dragonspear was ever close to accomplish such a feat.”
“Oh yes my Luminary, there is plenty of potential within her. As of now, I’m currently working on making her one of the finest Knights of Blood. She is still to be introduced to the trails, but she’s equal to an early rose bud. With the right amount of love, attention and patience she is soon to be ready to join the ranks, I am sure.”
“Have you discussed about this with her though? Brought it up to her, at least” the Lord asked his emissary.
“Not just yet. I have left a note for her to meet me at the Rose Church in the western side of Liurnia of the Lakes, she shouldn’t be late. I have no doubt she already had her audience with the Two Fingers at the Roundtable Hold, and has already made up her mind about them and their sincerity.”
At that the demigod burst out laughing, as if he had heard the most hilarious joke in hundreds of years.
“Since my very first day of life, I have never known someone who found those nasty, hairy bags of meat appealing in any kind of way! So I trust she will be of the same opinion as I.”
The white mask faintly smiled at that, imagining how Valyssa would react upon that revolting sight.
“Staying on topic. I can tell that you’re getting fond of her… Isn’t that right?”
The man's cheeks and temples suddenly got a darker pink, the otherwise cold throne room starting to feel warmer and warmer. His low gaze gave away the already obvious answer.
The Lord of Blood’s grin grew wider at the surgeon’s reaction.
“Just as I thought. Well, I have a suggestion for you. Listen closely” the Omen said, leaning down towards Varré’s ear so he could hear him whisper loud and clear.
“If you are so adamant in craving something for yourself, because you believe you truly deserve it… Go ahead and claim it. Take it. It yours to have.”
The sentence itself made the white mask freeze for a moment. He hadn’t thought about… the next steps yet, but now that Lord Mohg had mentioned it… The sudden idea of being so intimate with his beloved, oh-so-strong Tarnished was sending positive responses to his brain and body.
“A-a very wise advice my Lord, but I fear… She might be oblivious still and may need some time before mutual feelings grow solidly within her as well.”
The enormous Omen hummed at his servant’s reasoning, but was not at all preoccupied.
“That doesn’t really matter. I encourage you to take action nonetheless. She’s has all the potential to be a perfect match for you, but you have to assert your right to her first before someone else does.”
Varré immediately nodded at that, his head leaning forward submissively.
“Of course my Lord. My deepest apologies for thinking otherwise.”
“No need. If you’re ever overwhelmed by doubts about pursuing your most profound desires, just remind yourself about dearest Miquella and I.”
Mohg sighed deeply, turning away from the surgeon to take the big withered hand that dangled from the cocoon in his, and peck the ring that adorned it.
“As soon as I brought him home, there hasn’t been a single time where I wasn’t dedicating myself to him and the whole dynasty. And now, thanks to your countless efforts and mine, he’s grown majestically and his awakening is fast approaching. And when the time is ripe, a new era, an era of Blood and Love will begin.”
He then pulled away with a faint frown, letting go of the hand in a reluctant way to face Varré again.
“Everything that I’ve done, was to his sake. So there is no doubt your Tarnished would understand, if you rushed to her aid when she needs you the most. Nobody shies away at the purest forms of love, that are care and comfort.”
The man in the white mask nodded in agreement.
“That is true, my Lord. Even the most primitive creatures instinctively seek for a refuge and the company of their own peers. In regards to the maidenless Tarnished, I will see that she is never to feel loneliness in this world.”
“Good. One more thing, though” the cursed Omen said, his tone suddenly turning more serious than before.
“As you know very well already, like the naïve, uninfluenced Tarnished that she is, she is blindly following the guidance of grace in order to locate the other shardbearers, and strip them of their Great Runes to restore the Elden Ring and become Elden Lord.”
“Of course, oh Luminary. Her next destination would be the Academy of Raya Lucaria, where it is rumored-“
“Yes, yes, but that’s not too relevant” the Omen interrupted him.
“She may travel there, if she wants, and even try to gather all the other Great Runes she earns for. The other demigods aren’t as puny and desperate for power as the late decrepit Godrick, so she might think twice about taking on them” he continued.
“And I trust that your teachings will take root splendidly within her, and show her the real path to the loyalty to the dynasty. So that she will abandon the guidance of the Two Fingers and by that, the desire to rule over the Lands Between as well.”
“But… If she were to find her way underground and reach this place in search of my own Great Rune, or if my precious Miquella’s safety was put at risk…”
The Lord of Blood’s grip on Varré’s shoulders tightened. It was not too unbearable, but it still made the surgeon's eyes widen for a second.
“It is your job to tend to that, with no hesitation, if it were to ever happen. The responsibility is yours, and I believe you don’t need further reminders.”
The man quickly shook his head at that. By then, Lord Mohg released the grip and removed the hand entirely, letting the white mask release the tension in his muscles. A relief.
Though a clawed finger made its way under his chin, gently forcing him to look straight up to his Lord’s horned visage.
“Fret not. There will be one day where you will be rewarded immensely for your hard labor and dedication to the dynasty. The strength and love I promised are not too out reach now, and if all goes well… You may even join that Tarnished in wedlock, if you so please.”
Varré’s gaze brightened up at the Luminary.
“It may be quite early to discuss this my Lord, but I’ll definitely consider the idea. It’s magnificent indeed.”
“Excellent. Well then, you’re free to go. I believe that Tarnished is heading to the Rose Church as we speak. It would be a real pity if you made her wait."
With that, the demigod finally retracted his long digit away from the man's chin.
"Besides, I have left dearest Miquella alone for a while now, I must reunite with him in his slumber. Bless the Mohgwyn dynasty with love, Varré.”
“Bless the Mohgwyn dynasty with love, my Lord” the surgeon replied back, as he bowed again.
His master smirked one last time before swinging his trident. A wave of vibrant blood surrounded his form and he disappeared inside, forming a small pool than slowly slithered inside the cocoon with the withered arm.
The white mask took a deep breath again.
That definitely went better than expected.
He still felt his cheeks burning underneath the marble.
Me? Wedding Valyssa?
He appreciated the Luminary’s invaluable concern and his ever-brilliant idea, but that was only a very distant thought for the moment.
We should focus more now on the initiation trials, and if it is really meant to be then she will succeed. The real challenge for her will be taming the Luminary’s blood…
He sighed one more time.
None of his beloved partners, regardless of their strength, had remained sane after being exposed to the noble blood. Turned in Bloody Fingers, their madness had caused them to lose themselves in the bloodlust.
His chest ached at the painful memories.
But she is different than the rest. I know it. A desperate, hopeful thought.
I doubt she also will attempt at usurping the Lord. She is so much better than that.
He shook his head, biting his lip.
No, that is not going to happen. He will make sure of that.
Plus, she had been so receptive to his words thus far... It’d be such a waste to throw all of that away, just to follow her own ill-advised ambitions.
She can’t be that foolish. And Luminary Mohg has never been wrong about possible love candidates. He is just making sure there are no hindrances when the Mohgwyn dynasty properly commences.
After all, it is the most important priority. Nothing else comes first.
… Though he couldn’t deny that the thought of holding her in his arms, taking in all her warmth as they laid in their own bedroom, was extremely delightful as well.
He found himself daydreaming, before realizing she would arrive at the Rose Church very soon and he had to be on his way himself. What kind of lover invites their paramour to a tryst, and then shows up late?
He chuckled at the thought, and recovered his Pureblood Knight's medal from one of his pouches and activated it; its red trident emblem sending him to the designed destination.
Once he was back in Liurnia, he made sure to reappear behind the crumbling building of the church, so that if she were to be there already she wouldn’t notice him at first glance.
Thankfully though, there was no sign of her yet, nor he could hear someone galloping towards his direction.
Wonderful. Praise the Luminary, he didn’t get lost in his train of thoughts too much to delay his arrival.
The man smiled behind the white mask, and got in position near the entrance to the church.
He only had to be patient and wait for her, now. And he had all the time to fantasize about more future events, as he did.
To Chapter 1
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doiefy · 2 years
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fight or flight // kim doyoung // masterlist
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[3 PARTS, COMPLETED MAY 20, 2022. FULL SERIES COMING SOON...]
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In which compromised anonymity of the city's most notorious kingpin sucks you and your best contract killers into dangerous territory: crime syndicates in the dark underbelly of the city, black markets fueled by tyranny, illicit substances meant for those who are more animal than they are human. In which the only way to escape with your lives is to tear it all down from within.
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genre: sci-fi, cyberpunk, biopunk, crime, contract killers, enemies to lovers, I've got a jar of crack, angst
pairing: kim doyoung x gn. reader, johnny seo x reader
total word count: 60.5k (I know, I know, don't scream, please bear with me, I'll go touch grass in a second)
warnings: heavy language, blood and slight gore, violence, minor character death, implied sex and sexual innuendos (like. a lot of them, i couldn't stop myself), alcohol, drugs and substance abuse
other notes: I know I've always framed this fic to be a joke, and for the most part it is a lot of crack and humorous content. but do be warned that there are still a lot of darker undertones and mature themes that get progressively heavier as the story progresses. I've marked disturbing scenes with asterisks (***) but from what I remember, there are only one or two. this type of narrative is a first for me, and I definitely have a lot of things I would do differently if I rewrote it; honestly might make a post just about that for myself and for future reference. please bear with me if there appear to be plot holes or things that don't make sense, and feel free to ask! I promise I have all this stuff thought out, some of it just couldn't make the cut because, well. hellish word count :) finally, thank you yoona for beta reading again, I'm sorry for dragging you through fic hell literally every single time I come up with an idea 💀 (ooh last thing, this took a lot of inspiration from league of legend's arcane and the region of zaun so. good show, y'all should give it a watch I don't care if you don't play the game)
taglist: @suhncity @ncityrave @nakamotohrs @revehosh @babyksworld @kjmsupremacist @neonun-au
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I. DYNASTIES
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In this gothic underground city, we all sin If I bring a couple rounds with me, then we all win I came back and brought the crown with me, the king's den Break your nexus and your neck, 'cause everybody's on your head dynasties and dystopia - Bren Joy, Denzel Curry, and Glenda Proby
playlist word count: 16k
READ HERE
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II. DOWNFALLS
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Throw your head back, make you feel alive The kind of bad that make you feel good God, the kinda wrong that make you feel right The little death that make you feel alive dirty little animals - Bones UK
playlist word count: 19k
READ HERE
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III. DYSTOPIAS
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You got my blood running Turn the heat to six hundred Wish I could knock your skull in But I'm rising above it snakes - PVRIS, MIYAVI
playlist word count: 25k
READ HERE
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rgr-pop · 1 year
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short list of some albums that didn't make it on 2000. some of these might not correctly belong in 2000 bc my playlisting was sloppy but either way i passed or could not make them work before the copyediting phase binary star masters of the universe (good group i'd like to rep more but too chill rap) add n to (x) add insult to injury (ugh) chris knox beat freezepop forever two lone swordsmen tiny reminders pj harvey stories from the city, stories from the sea (second guessing this right now) that interpol demo kylie minogue light years kittie spit spineshank the height of callousness (hed) p.e broke atari teenage riot various releases the blood brothers this adultery is ripe turing machine a new machine for living radio 4 the new song and dance vive la fete attaque surprise moloko things to make and do and various releases (do not like) grandaddy the sophtware slump the go! team get it together ep (ended up moving away from almost all early/original releases from the right-after bands even though i spent so much time researching that category lol) laurent garnier various releases bis music for a stranger world deltron 3030 deltron 3030 seotaiji seotaiji iv soulfly primitive (doing an emergency skim to be sure) snot strait up apartment 26 hallucinating mercury rev all is dream quasimoto the unseen (would have liked to make this work but also too slow) godspeed you! black emporer lift your skinny fists like antennas to heaven mystikal let's get ready at the drive-in relationship of command pelican city rhode island lil wayne lights out broadcast the noise made by people m.o.p warriorz (this got really close) mates of state my solo project ghostface killah supreme clientele jay-z the dynasty rage against the machine renegades (probably--it was on here til the very end but i think i'm cutting it. title track is fine but this album is so bad lol) the white stripes de stijl wafflehouse* anthem the whisper (bummed to cut this but it's too advanced for me) rah digga dirty harriet DEFTONES WHITE PONY PROBABLY????
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the-storytellers-seer · 10 months
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First Lines Tag
I wandered away for a bit, sorry about that! I've been working hard to counteract all the mostly unpaid medical leave time I had to take. Big oof there. Anyhow! I saw that both @viss-and-pinegar and @rainpebble3 tagged me in this. While I haven't been writing near as much as I ought I do have enough first lines. I'll use all unpublished WIPs.
Who hasn't been tagged? I think I'm getting to this late. If you want me to tag you, let me know!
1 - A Matter of Diplomacy (Working Title) - Unpublished, third planned story that will occur after Heirs of the Throne
Taleine Sero stared down at the body of Ambassador Elenwen with a mixture of relief, terror, and glee. The deceased, blonde, High Elf stared sightlessly up at the ceiling. Her final expression one of fear, now frozen as her death mask.
Tal belated realized she was shaking. Her entire body vibrated like some demented Dwemer invention. The quiet snick of the door opening was as loud as a dragon roar even past the blood rushing in her ears. Tal jumped about a foot in the air.
The figure in the doorway was tall and garbed in pristine Thalmor robes. It took them all of a heartbeat to survey the situation. Tal glanced up guiltily into the shocked face of Commander Ondolemar who quickly shut the door behind him. They locked eyes: his a furious greenish golden to her terrified stormy grey.
“I swear it wasn’t me.” Tal whispered in a small, breathy voice that sounded nothing like her own normal brassy tone.
2 - Dov (Working Title) - Unpublished, fifth planned story in the "series".
Kieva sat in the remains of Brother Borri’s sixty-year mead stash and let loose a great echoing belch that was similar in timbre to a dragon’s roar. It was followed by a rather high-pitched giggle. Around her, the world passed by in a dreamy haze. She was happy or damn near close to it. Happier than she’d been in months. Or at least happier than she’d be without the alcohol’s blessed numbing effects.
Perched upon a throne made of boxes and dirty laundry, she was the queen of all she surveyed. This primarily consisted of empty shelves and even emptier bottles, but at least they were subjects that didn’t expect anything of her. They didn’t look at her and see her father’s features or assume she would have her mother’s grace. And they wouldn’t be disappointed when they found nothing of the dynasty they expected to see in her behavior.
In a family of legends, Kieva Stormcrown was a failure.
3 - Untitled - Unpublished: a random prompt challenge with two OCs
The man lying before her was dying. Although Runa was in no way a healer, she’d seen enough death in her time as a mercenary and the sickly-sweet smell of decay was unmistakable. Runa sucked in her lower lip and considered just passing by and letting the gods decide. Attempting to drag the man back from death’s door would be vastly more painful than letting him slip away and there was no guarantee her attempts would even be successful. Besides all that, he was an Imperial soldier and while she didn’t expressly support Ulfric Stormcloak’s opinions, she preferred not to let the Dominion via their puppet Imperial Army gain a foothold in her home.
She might have walked on then, but the man groaned and squinted up at her. His eyes were the blue of the Winter sky, and they fought past the pain to focus on her. She felt him take her measure. Saw him catalogue her worn, fur trimmed armor, braided blonde tresses, and amulet of Talos displayed proudly on her breast. He tried to wet his chapped dry lips, failed, but croaked out, “Please…help.”
“Molag’s balls.” She swore.
She couldn’t just leave him now. She bent down and began to tug him off the road and into the woods. She didn’t mean to tug him through every sticker bush from the road to the clearing, but the man was damned heavy and if he’d wanted to avoid bushes, he ought to have picked a different savior or collapsed near a better section of forest.
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aworldforastage · 4 months
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刀斩山河 by 不落不落
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不管他是教书先生还是高贵的龙脉,于伏城都没有区别,他只想看看他,告诉他,白鹿城的晚霞,很美。 Whether he is a schoolteacher or noble imperial blood makes no difference to Fu Cheng. He just wants to see him, and tell him the twilight in Bailu City is a beautiful sight.
Synopsis
Liuying Alley, tucked into a dark corner of a small town near the northern borders, is home to many sabre masters of dubious origins. They will accept any hard and dirty job for the right price, except for Fu Cheng, who refuses to kill despite being a formidable fighter .
After a rescue job goes wrong, Fu Cheng's client and a friend go missing, and Fu Cheng is stuck looking after his rescue target, Zhou Xuanyi, a beautiful young man with serious injuries, an insufferable personality, a mouth-watering bounty on his head, and an inconvenient bout of amnesia that renders him incapable of offering any explanations or solutions to this mess.
Zhou Xuanyi offers to help Fu Cheng find his friend and promises a sizable reward for Fu Cheng's continued protection. He settles into life in Liuying Alley with Fu Cheng and his ward, teenage girl Jin Ling. Their investigation into Fu Cheng's missing friend quickly connects their plight in the far north to conspiracies that can rock the very foundation of the Zhou dynasty. And as protecting Zhou Xuanyi forces Fu Cheng into increasingly dangerous scenarios, Fu Cheng is forced to reflect on the demons in his past that has robbed him of a life-saving skill -- the ability to kill in battle.
The Main Characters
Fu Cheng is a versatile and efficient fighter, a "traitor" expelled by a famous sect. However, he literally cannot strike a killing blow due to psychological trauma from his childhood in a destructive cult. Despite his morally-dubious profession and dark past, Fu Cheng is a kind idealist who always wants to help people and give them another chance. He falls in love with Zhou Xuanyi, and even though their social positions mean they have no future together, he wants to make the most of the time he can have with the young man who has given him a new purpose in life.
Zhou Xuanyi is the mysterious young man whom Fu Cheng is hired to rescue from a kidnapping, whose real identity is possibly the Crown Prince Zhou Heng. Zhou Xuanyi is daring and smart, always thinking a few steps ahead, and makes the most of every tool and resource at his disposal. He manages to survive the threats to his life in Bailu City without his memories, but the real challenge is waiting for him in the capital. After falling in love, he is determined to hold onto Fu Cheng for as long as he can, though later he feels guilty for bringing Fu Cheng into the quagmire of imperial politics.
Both are in their early twenties.
The Relationship Arc
This story has my favorite type of sour-sweet relationship arc. Two people get to know each other and admiration develops gradually. The main couple gets together about halfway into the novel, so it has a fair amount of fluff from an established relationship. They love and trust each other so fiercely in the present moment, but they also believe they don't have a future together given their political reality.
Their future (or the lack thereof) and their class differences cause genuine complications to the relationship that never get hand-waved away. Fu Cheng believes people like him won't find a happy ending, especially not with someone noble and royal like Zhou Xuanyi; every moment in the relationship is clouded by his belief that it won't last. Zhou Xuanyi himself also expects to one day marry a woman and produce heirs as his position requires; he can't bear to let Fu Cheng go but feels guilty about keeping him in this limbo state. Their circumstances make them angry and a little resentful, even though they still love each. Until it happens at the very end, even they don't believe they can have a happy ending together.
This is also one of the few truly verse/switch couples I have seen in danmei. They both show traditional gong tropes. Fu Cheng is physically stronger, very protective, and Zhou Xuanyi eventually becomes the top priority in his life. Zhou Xuanyi confesses his feelings first, and have more control over the status and progress of their relationship. They are not shy about sex, and they don't bring any gender and power dynamic into who tops. They start with some kind of turn-taking, but it's generally decided based on their needs and vibes at that moment.
Zhou Xuanyi has no other partners after starting a relationship with Fu Cheng, but he has been attracted to men before, and his male ex-something plays a major role in this story. He also has two concubines in his estate, but he hasn't been intimate with them for years, and they are just bored stuck at home and end up striking up very fun friendships with Fu Cheng.
The Plot
To put it briefly: action-packed and fun, but don't think too hard about it.
This novel is a fusion of wuxia and political intrigue. Most of the conflicts in this story are rooted in political motives, but they are often resolved by wuxia-style showdowns. Fu Cheng's personal arc deeply linked to his past in the martial sects, while Zhou Xuanyi's is all about the court politics.
Personally, I find the plot more engaging in the first part of the story, when it's set up like a mystery trying to figure out Zhou Xuanyi's kidnapping and backstory. The second part of the novel is mostly set in the capital, but instead of elaborate politicking, the story relies on creating incredibly threatening villains to raise the tension.
This novel also stands out for putting its main characters are under more intense pressure/threats than I typically see in works of this genre. Fu Cheng is a strong fighter, but his effectiveness in battle is seriously reduced by his inability to kill. Zhou Xuanyi is smart and have a very important title, but I have never seen a main character in a worse position than Zhou Heng in terms of manpower, resources, and political capital. As smart as they are, it feels like an uphill battle just to survive, let alone strike back against their enemies.
Supporting Characters
The side characters are surprisingly fleshed out in this story. Through their actions and choices, they all have different answers to the question "what is the most important thing to you." Some have surrendered their identity and pride to protect the people they love. Some have given up their personal interests to fight for the greater good. And some choose to trample over lives of innocent people for their own personal ambitions, or break the hearts and trust of people they love out of selfish resentment.
Compared to the "friendly" supporting characters, the villains are more cartoon-ish. This story relies on villains being incredibly powerful and threatening to create tension, which limits the space for nuance and complexity. But it is an effective strategy that keeps the story engaging enough.
Other Thoughts [spoilers ahead]
This is one of those rare stories in which the protagonist ends the story in a much worse mental state than what he starts with -- which is fair, given what Fu Cheng goes through, but still an atypical course of character development. He conquers his inability to kill, but is worse off in every other way. In the final chapter, Fu Cheng is technically living out his dream retirement of running a restaurant, but he seems to be doing it to make a point, not because he is enjoying it. He is not nearly as open or friendly as his initial appearance. This vague ideal of Zhou Heng, being a healthy and wise ruler far away in the capital, is the only good thing in the world that gives him purpose to keep living.
It feels strange to see Zhou Heng, set up as a great emperor, leaving his position to be with Fu Cheng (even though he does a lot of good work in his decade of reign and prepares his successor). They are certainly not the first danmei couple to take this route, but it feels a bit off here. Due to Fu Cheng's state near the end, it feels less like them starting a new chapter/retirement that they both look forward to, and more like Zhou Heng choosing a vulnerable Fu Cheng over his responsibilities. However, from Zhou Heng's POV, the worst of Fu Cheng's trauma comes from the sacrifices he has made to help secure Zhou Heng's peaceful reign. Returning to Fu Cheng is him taking care of someone who has given so much to him and the nation, as much as it is about him reuniting with his lover.
Ultimately, the protagonist loses against the challenges set before him in the story. And as sad as it is, it is sort of comforting to see a character who loses, fails, and despairs, but remains sympathetic. Fu Cheng returns to the battlefield to help Zhou Heng in the final arc, but he is so broken compared to who he was before. Zhou Heng isn't judgemental or disappointed that Fu Cheng hasn't healed; he aches for him and only wants to ease his pain. Healing is difficult, and it takes time and energy and support that are in very short supply for broken people. And even though Fu Cheng's recovery is slow, imperfect, and incomplete, he is still capable and deserving of love.
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spoilertv · 11 months
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laresearchette · 1 year
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Sunday, January 08, 2022 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)
WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: MAYFAIR WITCHES (AMC+/AMC Pilot Only - 9:00pm) ALERT: MISSING PERSONS (CTV) 8:00pm EAST NEW YORK (CTV) 9:00pm NCIS: LOS ANGELES (Global) 9:30pm
WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT?: BOB’S BURGERS (FOX Feed) FAMILY GUY (FOX Feed) ALL CREATURES GREAT AND SMALL (PBS Feed) MISS SCARLET AND THE DUKE (PBS Feed) VIENNA BLOOD (PBS Feed) MY SISTER'S SERIAL KILLER BOYFRIEND (TBD - Lifetime Canada)
NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:
DISNEY + STAR TOKYO REVENGERS (Season 2 premiere)
NFL FOOTBALL (TSN) 1:00pm: Ravens vs. Bengals (TSN/TSN3) 4:00pm: Cowboys vs. Commanders (TSN/TSN3) 8:15pm: Lions vs. Packers
NHL HOCKEY (SNPacific/TSN3) 3:00pm: Canucks vs. Jets (SN) 3:30pm: Panthers vs. Stars (SN1) 5:00pm: Blue Jackets vs. Capitals (TSN4) 7:00pm: Leafs vs. Flyers (SNWest) 7:00pm: Flames vs. Chicago (SN/SN1) 8:30pm: Bruins vs. Ducks
NBA BASKETBALL (TSN4/TSN5) 3:30pm: Trail Blazers vs. Raptors (SN Now) 7:00pm: Mavericks vs. Thunder (TSN5) 9:00pm: Hawks vs. Clippers
HEARTLAND (CBC) 7:00pm: Tim goes after the person responsible for Jack's accident; Lou struggles to reconnect with Katie; Amy agrees to let Logan take the lead with a new client...HORSE!
WHO'S TALKING TO CHRIS WALLACE? (CNN) 7:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): Chris Wallace is joined by filmmaker James Cameron and actor Hugh Jackman.
THE CASE AGAINST COSBY (CBC) 8:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE):  Of the more than 60 women who accused Bill Cosby of sexual assault, only one was able to gain a conviction; this is her story.
SCENTED WITH LOVE (City TV) 8:00pm:  Rosalie returns home after training as a perfumer in Paris and tries to rent a store to sell her own perfume. The only space available is shared by the local furniture store, which is owned by the previously geeky-now handsome Jason.
DIRTY JOBS (Discovery Canada) 8:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE):  Mike Rowe joins a second-generation pool fixer in West Palm Beach, Fla., and cleans dirtiest pool in America to clean 17 years of accumulated filth; in Orlando, Mike and a Soap Whisperer recycle dirty hotel soap in an effort to Clean the World.
IRREVERENT (Showcase) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): An American criminal on the run from the Chicago mob loses all of his money and is forced to hide out in an Australian beach town, posing as their new reverend and becoming dangerously involved with the locals.
SEWER DIVERS (Discovery Canada) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): In North Jersey, N.J., Dirty Water Don dives into a toxic sewer line; In Mt. Vernon, Va., Ramone and George try to fix a sewage-filled basement; In Cleveland, Josh tries to break down a rock-solid formation before it leads to catastrophic flooding.
CHEF DYNASTY: HOUSE OF FANG (Food Network Canada) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE):  Chef Kathy Fang plans to use a modernized menu to take her San Francisco-based restaurant to new heights; she hosts a dinner for influencers, as well as her father, business partner and toughest critic Peter Fang, to put her new ideas to the test.
A ONCE AND FUTURE PEACE (documentary) 9:00pm:  Based on Indigenous peacemaking circles, a restorative justice approach brings healing to families and communities.
THE CURSE OF OAK ISLAND (History Canada) 10:00pm: The team returns to the swamp and immediately uncovers more evidence of a sunken ship; in the money pit, the discovery of a collapsed structure could mean they have finally located the off-set chamber.
TUT'S TOXIC TOMB (Nat Geo Canada) 10:00pm:  Paleoanthropologist Ella Al-Shamahi explores the gripping science behind an astonishing Egyptian legend as she investigates whether toxins inside Tutankhamun's tomb and among the pharaoh's treasures could explain a number of mysterious deaths.
END OF THE ROPE (Discovery Canada) 10:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): The Extreme Heights Repair Team heads to California to place 13 targets on the Bullards Dam in just three days; they install bird sensors on a wind turbine.
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youmistme · 3 years
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Humility is alien to her
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✑Pairing : Warrior in training! Taehyung x Village Thief! female Y/N
✑ Genre: Strangers to lovers! AU in Joseon Dynasty, fluff and teeny bit of angst
✑Warnings: Mentions of poverty, sickness and disabilities. Mention of theft (I do not condone the act of stealing, this is only for the purpose of the story.) Taehyung is a sweetheart, Y/N is level headed and is tired. Tae has a little stubble just like the run bts episode for the first half of the story (he gets rid of it later!) 
✑ Inspiration: From 달려라 방탄! or RUN BTS! EP 145 where Taehyung has the fake stubble :D
✑ Words: 5k
☞ Summary: He had a boyish grin and sun-kissed skin, he wanted to be a man. She had tattered clothes and guilty eyes, she ran. 
In which, Y/N who despite her want to have an honest living has to resort to theft and Taehyung is the sweetest and not so intimidating warrior in training who wants to lend a hand.
☞ Note: There is mention of a disability and if anyone thinks the representation of this disability is done incorrectly then please let me know! also this took 2 weeks to write bc i am the most lethargic shit on the planet lolololol. why is tumblr so ass when it comes to copypasting UGH
Do not repost or plagiarize my work! You’re an untalented weak imbecile if you do so :)
also if i like it enough, i’ll write a part two :p no promises 
this is a work of fiction, does not represent the artist in it and their behaviour!
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Today was hotter than your usual afternoons, as though the sun peered its light rays right into your skin; boiling your blood. A gust of wind rushed through matted hair, giving a second of breezy relief before the humidity settled in again. Pressing your lips together to contain yourself, you kept running. 
 With an iron grip on the straw bag you held, your sore feet made their way to the distant part of the village. The small village in Daegu that you resided in was always bustling, filled with life. A fairly well off town as they all claimed, a town with its happy people and their happy bags of wealth. Happy children and their even happier gold spooned life. 
That was certainly not the case for your family.
After a final glance behind your back, you made your way to the dark wooden door. Your fingers grazed the knob; it was warm. The warmth of home. The feeling did not last long when a small shard of wood sliced your finger. You hissed. It was a small cut, annoying nonetheless.
Your hiss faded away as quickly as it came when the form of the little boy crouched down on the thin white sheets came to your view. Round, watery and redden eyes staring at you with helplessness. Shivering chapped lips that curved the slightest when your figure came into view. Skin pale white, loss of the warmth of blood. The boy shivered a bit before meeting your eyes. 
Even in this saddening state, he flashed you an attempt at a smile, lips curving with all his will and might. Guilt crept up in you, how could you get annoyed by a small cut when he is still smiling despite everything? 
“I-I got us food. Fruits!”  His mouth moved, trying to form a coherent sentence to thank you but nothing came out. His gaze fell, eyes downcast. Gently walking towards him, you held his hand and brought him to your embrace, hugging him tightly. 
A lump formed in your throat, you felt bad. You felt disgusted, even dirty. You knew well the food you got for him wasn’t in the most civil way one should. This town(despite its “gold brimmed citizens”)  was not forgiving to the lower class. The want to be honest and have a truthful living was adamant within you, so deep within you that you couldn’t find it anymore. 
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“Ah! Taehyung! My boy, what are you doing here in the market? Don’t see you around anymore.” 
The said man turned around, sharp, straight brows angling at the voice of the old woman who spoke to him. His aloof face met the gentle eyes of her, she smiled at him fondly. 
His shoulders sagged down in relief upon seeing her, wide grin now replacing his face. His right hand rubbed his neck, chuckling shyly. 
“Oh? Halmoni. I came here to get some vegetables. How are you?”
“This old woman is doing as good as she can. Now tell me, my boy, what would you like?” 
Squinting his eyes, he tried to remember the items he was told to get. Moments passed with him still trying to recollect his memory. Glancing back at her with embarrassingly red cheeks, he nervously laughed. 
The old woman looked up at him for a moment before bursting into a big laugh, patting on her thigh. “You grew a beard and all but your mind is still the same, boy.” 
“Ha-halmoni, it is not like that. I just suffer from short memory loss… a-and the beard is because I am a man now...”, he tried to shift the blame on the memory problem he never had. 
“Aha. Whatever eases you, my child.  Now, here you go” she handed him a basket filled with various kinds of vegetables. He reached out, grabbing it with a small smile. Patting his head she continued, “tell your mother and brother I sent these to their way.”
Bowing in return, he turned to go further inside the market. The busy marketplace still looked the same. From the many years he has grown up here, it always felt the same. Lively with smiles. The smell of freshly harvested fruits and greens, the teenage girls giggling near the trinket stores, mothers arguing with the vendors to negotiate the price, and the ever-so-subtle scent of fish and meat lingering between all of it. 
With a small jump in every step, he walked around the market humming a melody. From the corner of his eye, he saw a small craftsman store. His curiosity peaked. He hadn’t seen this store before, granted he hadn’t visited the market in months because of his “training to be a warrior” which mostly consisted of the boy convincing himself that the beard he had grown will make him look older and more intimidating. 
With a soft voice, he spoke to the craftsman who was seated with his creations. A multitude of wooden horses, small swords, jewelry boxes, bracelets, brooches. His long fingers delicately looked at one of the small swords, it was similar to the one he played with as a child. 
An eager yelp took his attention, beside him was a girl. She did not seem like a teenager, perhaps a bit older. Her raven coloured hair was braided and pulled back. She was looking at a rose coloured brooch. It was a small butterfly with intricate details in its wings. It was beautiful. 
Her lips quivered, eyes wandering on the brooch with a defeated sigh. His gaze fell on the straw hat she had held onto and her hanbok. The straw hat was big, bigger than what an average person used, so big that it would cover one’s face completely. Her hanbok unlike the other females in the market was simpler. It lacked the details of silk and bright coloured fabrics. The dusty pink colour of the hanbok and its owner resulted in his probing eyes.
Trying to play it off cool, his eyes gave his attention back to the wooden horses whilst occasionally stealing a glance at her.
The peaceful evening in the market was disturbed when a voice yelled out in frustration. 
“My fruits are stolen again! This is the third time in this week has happened.”, it was the fruit vendor, who cringed his face in frustration, sweat dripping from his forehead. He looked livid.
 “It’s probably the kids making you look like a fool again.”, another voice jumped out. It was the fish seller who looked back at the angry man with a grin.
 “It’s not the kids. It’s a woman! Every time she comes over, I have a load of my stuff vanished! She-”
“A woman? Why would a woman ever do such a thing!” an elderly woman added with trepidation. 
“What does she look like?” enquired one more. Now everyone's attention was in this conversation. 
“That woman is no good! I have not seen her face. It is always covered with a straw hat. An enormous one.”
 Taehyung snapped his head around to his side, the woman in pink hanbok vanished from his sight. The image of her face, the flushed lips, and the almond-shaped eye disappearing from his memory. Quickly he looked back to the craftsman table where he kept his trinkets. The pink brooch laid there, untouched. 
With the money he had left, he purchased the pink butterfly. 
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You slammed your palm against your forehead. So careless. You were so careless today. The force of reality hits your head. How could you go out in the open with your hat so carelessly? The villagers already knew the form you took. God Dammit if you were a little bit more swift you could have avoided this situation altogether. 
You shuddered, remembering the very vivid description of the woman in the big straw hat. The thief. The one who they hated. The one who was you. You coughed out loud, running out of breath as you walked towards the small road that led to the cottage you lived in. Something in your guts told you that you were seen. Caught. Caught committing theft. 
The small edge to his eyes, while he looked at the small toy swords, came to your mind- that man. Clad in a royal blue, your eyes didn’t miss the details of gold in his hanbok. Or the way he glanced at your form, from time to time. You did not miss any of it. 
“Stupid-stupid so stupid! You irresponsible girl!” your voice yelled to your own self. “Ah-why? Why can you not do a thing right? Argh-”
The sound of a tree branch breaking stirred you away from your self-deprecating scolding. The path you were walking on was not used by the villagers often. It was at the end of the town. A quiet place. There were not many animals around who would randomly step on a tree branch during this time of the day. As one would, feelings of fear and dread followed suit. You were too scared to look behind. 
You pressed your lips shut, breath hitching. From the corner of your eye you could make out a figure standing there- just as still as you. Like a deer in headlights. You took a step back, the figure behind you also took a step behind. You clenched your hand and moved a couple of steps forward. The figure behind you did the same. 
‘What trickery game is this?’
Sighing one last time, you knew if you didn’t run now you’d be in big trouble. You would run very fast; you decided. In 
1-
2-
3- “Wait! Don’t you dare try to run away!” it was a heavy, deep voice that yelled from behind you. It didn’t sound like it was too far behind. Oh, you were in big trouble. You bent down, touching the area near your feet, and unbeknownst to the person behind you grabbed a rock big enough to fit your palm. 
If you had to face this person. You will. With safety of course
A twirl on your heels and you were face to face with the voice that called you out. Both your hands were tucked behind your back. You were expecting a middle-aged man, most likely a general but what met your eyes had you stumble on your feet. 
Those sharp yet heavy eyes staring back at you. The black pearls staring right at you, iris turning a hazel colour when the sun shined on it. He had speckles of hair on his chin and upper lip, a stubble. Glancing further, you saw the very royal hanbok which covered his sunkissed skin. He had  It was him, the sword toy guy at the trinket shop!
Your lips parted, you wanted to say something- anything but your mouth refused. 
His brow arched, he too seemed to be intrigued to see you here; a little flare of hesitance floating in there too. “You. Why did you try to run? I saw you leaving the market.” his voice was deep, trying to assert dominance within the two of you. 
“I don’t see how it is your business. I will take my leave.”
His brow perked up, and for a split second, you could see a boyish pout, saddened eyes. It was so quick that you almost missed it.  
He looked at you to continue. 
“Why must I allow you to do so?”
“You could. This once.” 
He started walking closer to you, stoic face piercing into your soul. He brought his right hand up, guiding towards you. Your fight, flight, and freeze scenes tingled and before you knew it, the rock you held onto met his shoulder with a big thud. 
“Ah! W-why?”He groaned, peach lips pouting as he patted his shoulder. His entire demeanor changed the moment that hero of a rock hit him. His sharp eyes now round and slightly glassy. Round cheeks tucked into a scowl.
“Ajusshi! Don’t come near me!” you threatened and held the rock in front of your hands.
“Ajusshi? What am I some old man!-I was trying to remove the spider that’s been crawling on your left shoulder! And you dare hit me-”
You smacked him this time, without the rock though. He shut up. 
Looking to your left, sure enough, was a black spider; dangerously close to your neck. “AHHHH! A- SPIDER!” your hand swatted it away in one swing.
Silence. Quietness engulfed the air as you recovered from the spider and the man in front of you recovered from your fist. You looked back at him, he was on his knees; one hand touching his shoulder while the other grazed his hurt. 
Now, this was certainly not how you expected someone clad in clothes similar to that of a warrior to react when hit by a girl. It was too humorous to you, a laugh almost slipped past your throat. The man looked back at you, angrily eyeing you. You cracked a wicked grin at the man before turning. A part of you wanted to stop, help him get up but you masked that with his boyish behavior favoring your humor. “You must be pretty strong, yeah? Good sir.” 
He suddenly stood up, you turned and saw both his hands to his right side. Then you spotted something. A sword. 
Oh, honey. You were done for. Say your prayers.
Suddenly, the laugh, the mockery towards him. You wanted to take it all back. 
You waited, looking at him anxiously. He looked at you one last time before drawing his sword out. You shut your eyes tight, ready for any slash or blow. There was nothing. 
Peering your eyes open, you were presented with a long wooden sword. 
A wooden sword.
You blinked once. He blinked once.
You blinked twice. He blinked twice. 
You bite your lip hard, suppressing any burst of laughter that might come. “Haha!”
“What in the world is that- a wooden sword?” 
He stared at the sword with utter shock. He was not expecting it himself .“Ah! Why did Seokjin hyung switch my real sword with the wooden one!” he stomped his feet on the ground, nose scrunch with distaste.
He looked back at your laughing face, hands clutching your stomach as you tried to contain your laughter. his cheeks were pink, lips curved from ear to ear. "tsk. is it so funny?" he couldn't help but snicker before laughing along with you. 
He held the handle of the wooden sword, attempting to put it back in the scabbard. His wobbly arms failed to sheath his sword. He sighed. You gingerly took a few steps towards him and held the hilt. His gaze fell on your face. With the help of your guiding hands, he successfully pushed the sword inside of the scabbard.
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It had been three weeks since that incident with the warrior guy. After his several failed attempts to put his sword back in the sheath, he finally caved in for your help. This led to a twinkle in his eyes, he asked you more questions. That led to more questions and more answers. You could feel the imaginary wall that you’ve built slowly melt away, just the way the coldness of your heart melted. You remember the time when you both exchanged your names:
“Taehyung. Kim Taehyung! That’s my name.” He was grinning; something he did very often when he talked with you. Taehyung was his name. Just like the person itself, the name held colour. It was bright, a dash of hue in your monochromatic life. 
You wouldn’t have given your name back in return but he just- he felt so welcoming. A warm hug on a cold day. An umbrella for the rain. “Y/N. that’s my name.”
You really didn’t know why Taehyung hadn’t ratted you out. In fact, the said guy had not even brought up the topic since that day. He knew something was up (when you ran from the marketplace) but decided to not speak of it. Things back home weren’t going very well either, it only added to your confusion. Yet, it has become a habit to meet him now. No day goes by without seeing his square-like boyish grin and crescented eyes. 
Your legs brushed against the sunlit grass, bare toe touching the earth beneath. You closed your eyes and arched back. The log of wood you were seated beneath was warm, it seemed to have absorbed the heat of the atmosphere. The sky above was filled with shades of pink, orange, and blues; as though they were meant to intertwine with each other for your eyes. Humming a melody (courtesy to him, you’ve caught the habit now) you waited for Taehyung to arrive. It seemed like he was taking much longer than usual to get here. 
“When is he getting here..where is he?”
“Miss me already?” 
Turning around, you saw Taehyung. He was with his usual close-lipped smile and round cheeks but something was off. He was Taehyung, no doubt. It was the brave yet shy guy whom you’ve been meeting. “Taehyung is that..” you scanned his face, from his sharp eyes to the small mole he had underneath his left eye, his lean nose, and his supple lips. His lips-oh-oh. His upper and lower lip area was no longer covered with his facial hair.
“Your beard is gone.”, you said as a matter of fact, not sure how to register this information. His face was clean, soft, and shaven. The skin on his chin was a bit red, you figured it was from removing his facial hair. You had always found Taehyung to be an attractive guy but when a couple of days ago he had revealed he was twenty-five years old it shocked you, more than you have liked it to. 
“Twenty-five?! So you’re not an ajusshi?”
“No! Haha. What about you?”
“Twenty-two.”
His lips were a bright shade of peach, he licked his lips before snickering. You remember a few days ago him going deep into his thoughts when you mentioned why he bothered to keep a beard. He revealed that he’d been growing it for two years to look much older. That very Taehyung was now in front of your eyes, soft smile and red cheeks as he sat beside you. It was as if the entire universe slapped you on your face hard. So hard for you to face the reality of this godly man sitting before you. His hair was also a bit disheveled, he didn’t wear the blue bandana he wore to keep his hair away, instead, it was out and open. 
Your lips parted. You wanted to say something. Anything. You couldn’t. Oh lord, you couldn’t fathom the curve of soft cheeks and the shine on his skin, and good gracious you did not know how to handle these feelings of yours. They were already all over the place because of him but now this? This was pure torture. The sun really did its wonders when illuminating on his face, giving it a godly glow. You could feel yourself melt into a puddle for a man you knew for a couple of weeks!
“Earth to y/n? Are you doing good?” 
“Y-yes!” you stood up at once, stomping your feet with big rounded eyes as you made a salute pose towards him. 
“Ah-okay. Slow down, tiger. You spaced out for a moment.”
“You’re the tiger here not me..”, you fake pouted and sat back down beside him, this time a little bit closer. Taehyung was not oblivious to you sitting closer but chose to not say a word. 
“Why did you shave your beard?” You spoke a little bit too loud. 
He tilted his head before releasing a big boxy grin, his pearlescent teeth were shining through. Your heart beats faster than you would have liked it to. 
“You said I look a lot older with the beard. I want to look my age now.”
“But, Taehyung, didn’t you say it helps intimidate people so that they take you seriously as a warrior?” 
“I am sure I can manage just fine without one now.”
“How so?”
“Change of heart.” he paused. He looked back at you with that sparkle in his eyes which you seemed to never want to look away from. “I think I am capable without it.” 
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The evergrowing feeling of fear and trepidation within your gut did not seem pleasant. You really wanted it to go away but your conscience just disagreed. The very concept of getting help when you didn’t ask for it is confusing. It is convoluted for the mind to process since it is already thinking about so much. Must one look down on the possible (bad) reasons someone is helping them? Vice versa. Getting help from someone can either lead to debt from that person or a step to the right path. How were you so adamant that the help you got was out of the kindness of the human heart or that it was a masked face filled with malice?
Not to mention that the said help was none other than Kim Taehyung.
Every day you saw him with a wooden basket whenever he headed towards your way. It was always filled to the brim with a variety of foods. From fruits to vegetables, meat and fish and eggs everything was there. Of course, you refused to accept these first because how could you ever pay him back for all of this. He on the other hand seemed more offended that you refused his help and did not budge from where he stood. He held the basket in his hand for hours before you took it from him. 
“Taehyung you don’t have to do this...I….I can’t pay you back or give anything in return!”
“I am not giving you because I want something in return. I am giving you this because I want to.” 
This also resulted in you not having to go to your “robbery adventures” and risk your life every day. It was refreshing but still too alien. Did he have an ulterior motive? Will he use you later for something? Is he just being another kind human? Are you immune to humility? 
“Y/n!” taehyung called out as he approached you. He waddled over to your figure with round cheeks stuffed, he was chewing bread. His right hand tightly held a woven basket. 
“Hey, how are you?” he asked and without waiting for your answer, plopped himself beside the tree bark you were seated on. 
“I’m good. Better than before…” “You?”
“Inlovebutiwonttellyouthat.” he whispered in a hushed voice but you couldn’t figure out what he said.
“Huh?”
“I said I’m in pain! Ouch, my shoulders still hurt from when you hit me with that rock!”
You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment and he gulped. You both stayed silent. 
“Ah~ here take this. I almost forgot to give you.” he brought the basket up, this time it was filled with green vegetables. Some which you had never seen before. 
“Taehyung.” you stopped him before he could even place the basket onto your hands. He looked up at you. “You-you cannot be doing this!” 
You continued, “Giving me all of this when I can do nothing but helplessly take it and give nothing in return. Why? Taehyung just why? Why would you…” your voice shivered at the end. 
“Y/n. I just want to. You don’t owe me anything, okay? I just have this urge to look out for you. Please let me do it?” “Don’t stop me from it.”
“I-... this is too new for me Taehyung. I’ve never- never had someone look out for me.” 
Taehyung was quiet. His eyebrows were fused together as he tried to form any sort of answer but remained wordless. He did not want to say something that could unintentionally disregard what you said.
You raised your eyes to look at him, you knew he wanted to say something to comfort you but was unable to find words for it. Just like always, you also wanted to thank him for the food. You were not a mannerless human. You felt gratitude and you would do the least which is to express it with words. “Thank you, for this. You keep giving me. I don’t know what to think of it.” 
He smiled in return, he looked at ease with your sincere thanks.
“Do you have a family?” you with intention. 
“Yes! I have an elder brother whom I’ve mentioned before, I have my mom and my precious grandmother with me too.” his eyes lit up like you’ve never seen before, they held stars in them when he spoke about his family with nothing but sheer joy.  
Taehyung didn’t stop there, he went on and on about his family which you eagerly listened to. He talked about how his brother was a doctor, two years older than him, and that he was insanely handsome. “My brother says it is always important to mention his good looks when I talk about him,” he added while swinging his legs back and forth like a toddler as he continued to say more about his family. You found his brother; namely Kim Seokjin to be a vibrant man though you never met him.
 He also mentioned his mother, who in his words seemed like a kind and caring woman. And lastly, his grandmother whom he seemed to absolutely adore more than anything in the world. 
He then turned and with cautious eyes asked you the same question. You were expecting him to and also appreciated his cautious tone. He was making sure he wasn’t crossing any line by asking you this and your heart couldn’t help but flutter. 
“I have a brother.” your voice was a near faint whisper. 
His brows raised in surprise. He was not expecting that. He had so many questions going on in his head, more geared towards your financial stability but he figured that it would be inappropriate to ask them. 
“He’s ten years old. Mute. I adore him.” 
His face held a devastating look. You had never seen another being ever so invested in your life let alone mourn over your personal problems. You were confused, to say the least. 
“He does not talk?” he muttered more to himself than you and you nodded in reply. Your eyes were downcast too. Thinking about your sickeningly pale brother who tried his hardest to show a brave smile around you made you feel lamented. How could you not, the poor boy had been suffering for months now. 
You both sat in further silence, not sure what to say. Then Taehyung spoke and you weren’t sure what to think of it. “Does he like toy swords?” 
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You were now opening the door of your house, more like a cottage gingerly, scared to be too loud so that you didn’t frighten your brother. Despite your poverty, you always considered your home a home, a cosy place where it felt warm. The love you and your brother shared for each other made up for the dim-lit house. 
The thought of ever having someone over never came to you so you weren’t prepared.  Taehyung peeked his head from the door, his fluffy brown hair bounced ever so slightly. He didn’t seem to mind your small home, in fact, he looked pleased with it. Last week when you both exchanged words about your family, Taehyung insisted on seeing your brother. You knew well enough that stopping him was not an option since he was rather stubborn. So, now here you two were at your house, to meet your brother. 
With a small sigh, you said, “Well to my humble abode, Sire Kim Taehyung.” 
He chuckled in response to your formal tone. He was still looking around the house. To him, your house looked more lively than he thought it would. Bad of him to assume. Nonetheless, he was pleased with the welcoming energy your abode radiated. Taehyung had quickly figured out that his means of helping you did not mean he wanted you to feel like a charity case. He was sure in one way or another, you did. This led to him taking a much gentler approach when trying to help you, which in all honesty he had no reason to but he was always a man to follow his heart. If his heart wants to help this beautiful and brave lady; you, then so be it. Today he brought in one of the small wooden swords he used to play with and practice with when he was a young lad himself. He thinks this was the best choice for a gift. Granted he doesn’t know how your brother is but he hopes it’ll bring the small boy some joy.
Not very far from the main entrance gate was a boy. He had disheveled, matted hair. He looked very sick. Much like your description of him, he looked the same. Small frame, a bit shivering, pale skin that lacked any colour, sunken eyes boring his face, and chapped lips which bled from the side a bit due to dehydration. Taehyung couldn’t explain how much his heart shattered into pieces. The tears were already building up in his eyes and he had to look away to force the tears back inside.
You looked to your side at him, you understood his expression because you also had the same. You looked back at your brother, your heart ached for him, and yet you couldn’t do much for him. You felt a hand envelope yours, it was Taehyungs. He was looking at you with gentle eyes, as a sign for you to not lose yourself. You couldn’t be any more grateful. 
Your brother jolted upon seeing you too, his eyes widened. He looked so scared. His already pale face turned even whiter. You pursed your lips together and walked to your brother. With a smile on your lips, you gently embraced him; not too tight since he was so fragile. “Daehyun-ah, I have a friend of mine over. He wanted to see you.” 
Daehyuns eyes wandered to the tall man standing behind you. He seemed scared but slowly relaxed when he saw Taehyungs overly warm and sweet smile. Taehyung too with gentle steps walked to Daehyun and crouched down to his level. His smile never left his face. 
“Hi!” he said a little bit too enthusiastically. Realising how loud he was, he cracked a sheepish grin and continued. “I’m Taehyung. Your noona’s best friend. It’s nice to meet you, Daehyunie.” 
Daehyuns eyes lit upon his name being mentioned. Even with trembling lips, his lips curved into the faintest smile towards Taehyung. 
“I have a little gift for you Daehyun. I hope you like it as much as I used to.” 
His arms which were behind him this entire time now came forward. He was holding a small wooden sword. It looked adorable. Your eyes curved into crescents when you saw Taehyung handing it to Daehyun with a big grin. A domestic feeling settled within you. 
You guided your hands on your brother’s and helped him hold the little sword. You swear you hadn’t ever seen him so ecstatic. The sword felt a little bit too heavy for him so he let go of it with a small pout. The wooden toy walling on the floor with a thud and the little boy shut his eyes in disappointment. 
“Now, I’ve also got some fruits with me. You have to eat it all up, Daehyunie. How else are you going to hold that sword of yours, hm? We’ll make you all strong and big.” taehyung chuckled and looked back at you. 
Your smile was small but grateful. You had done so much but gotten so little. You had the burden of two worlds on your shoulder and got so little help. Though he couldn’t help in the ways he wanted to, Taehyung decided to be the pillar you could lean on when you journeyed through your life. 
Daehyun brought his shaky hand on Taehyungs and held it tightly with a big grin. His eyes were trembling. His pupils were glassy and a single drop of salty tear fell on their hand. That is when the man in blue had an epiphany, he had finally taken the first in becoming someone’s shield and someone’s hope. He was still far away from where he desired to be, but still a step closer from before. 
@youmistme​ 
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king-star · 3 years
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When the Party’s Over
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Warning: Homophobia, transphobia, death, bile, guts, broken limb, crying, pet neglection, driving while slightly tipsy, fire (lmk if i need to add more. This is all around pretty dark and sad, proceed with caution)
Match: Yelena Belova x enby!Reader; Wanda Maximoff x reader
Genre: Angst, Angst, and more Angst
A/N: This is the first chapter in a series. Idk how long it’ll be. the plan is bi weekly updates. im reallyyyyy proud of this one so let’s hope it doesn’t flop. ENJOY!
Word Count: ~3,000
Summary: You have a horrible nightmare, leaving you with anxiety for Yelena. Yelena assures you that everything is fine and leaves on a mission.
Your tongue rubs the roof of your mouth in an attempt to rid itself of the sickly sweet drink you’d been sipping. A hundred intoxicated humans swirl around you. Fabric, skin, and feathers blend together, the orchestra the only thing holding off the headache behind your eyes.
You didn’t want to be here. Sure ballroom charity balls could be fun. If you had your best friends there, you could chat only with them, and dance to your heart's content. Unfortunately for you, everyone you could stand to be around was busy. Leaving you human-shieldless from your mothers many socialite friends.
The “oh my goodness Y/N I haven’t seen you since you were in highschool. How are you?” got old quick. Retelling your life story over and over was a pain especially with your mother gripping your hand making sure you didn’t slip up. Share any information that didn’t quite fit the Y/L/N dynasty image. Mostly she didn’t want you sharing about the love of your life, your girlfriend, your Yelena.
When the two of you first got together you waited nearly 5 months before telling your mother. The first time you dated a girl she had hated it. She tried to act like she was supportive, claiming “I will always love you no matter what.” But in the end she always shielded this fact from the public eye. She was supportive of all the LGBT+ movements from a political standpoint. Never her own child.
You never told Yelena about this. You claimed the reason you didn’t want to share her with your mother was because you wanted your relationship to not have paparazzi after you two. She bought it for a while but you could only keep the love of your life away from the woman who gave you life for so long. It didn’t take a master spy to understand the emotions behind the look your mother gave you when you brought Yelena to dinner. Yelena never brought it up but it was an unspoken understanding. Your mother didn’t accept you no matter how hard she tried to fake it.
Now you just wanted the event to be over so you could go home to Yelena. You flipped your wrist, checking the ridiculously expensive watch you had on.
11:31
She was definitely asleep by now. Yelena never stayed up past 10:30. Frowning, you set down your glass and turned to your mother, waiting for her conversation to end. When she finally stopped speaking she turned to you and cocked an eyebrow,
“Y/N. Are you leaving? so soon?” she pouted but enough years in her home taught you her looks. This was faked sadness.
“Unfortunately yes mother. Lena is probably asleep by now and I have work early. She probably forgot to feed our dog,” you enunciated the words that might clue in your mothers friend on how you and this woman were related. A last “fuck you mother” before you left. She smiled warningly and nodded.
“Well… you must get home to your friend. I will see you soon daughter,” she kissed your hand and you stood there frozen. Of course, she would invalidate your gender and your relationship in one comment. Your nostrils flared and you turned quickly, letting your hand smack your unfinished drink into her lap and treading off quickly.
“Fuck you mother. How someone could be so hateful to their own child I will never understand,” you muttered to yourself. You handed your ticket to the valet and stood with your arms crossed, waiting. You made sure to tip the valet an absurd amount, and drove off quickly. The only thing that would keep you from doing something stupid in retaliation was Yelena’s arms around you.
~
Nearly thirty minutes later you pulled the car into the garage. It shouldn’t have taken you that long to get home but you couldn’t help but drive with the top down for a bit. Anger and maybe a bit of fear had bubbles underneath your skin and you didn’t want to bother Yelena. You stepped out of the car and held your head in your hands. You hadn’t drank that much, but a headache would be inevitable.
Fanny met you at the door. She was obviously excited, tail wagging as she raced back to her food bowl
“ok ok girl. I’ve got you,” you rubbed her head and dumped a scoop of food into her bowl. Loosening your tie you dragged yourself to the bedroom. You smiled as the light poured in and illuminated the silhouette of a sleeping Yelena.
“Deep asleep. I’ll join you in a second,” you pulled the rest of your suit off. Picking up a discarded shirt you put it on, and leaned your head against the mirror.
“That was misery. And mother’s comment. I shouldn’t care about what that bitch thinks or says. But I can't help it,” you let out a sigh and picked up your toothbrush. Maybe someday she will accept you. But at that point would she ever be able to make up for how she treated you?
Ready for bed you slid in beside Yelena, careful not to wake her. Fanny, finished with her food, jumped into bed with you and snuggled up with a lick to your face. You smiled and kissed her head then kissed Yelena.
“night my love. See you in the morning,” your heavy lids drooped and you relaxed, setting a hand on Yelena and falling into dreamland.
~
Your thighs hurt. Fire and smoke burn your throat and eyes. You search for something. What exactly you aren’t sure. Tears stream down your face as anxiety floods your chest. If you don’t find the thing soon your world will be crushed.
A broken door, barely on its hinges, is at your right and you know that’s it. A hard turn and you smack your arm into the frame. You grasp at your wrist as more tears prick your eyes.
“Fuck!” A familiar level of pain flares and you know it’s broken. Your eyes dart around the room, still looking for that unknown thing. A pile of smoking wood sits in front of you and your feet carry you to it. This was it.
You try hard to pull through the heavy, hot wood with your one arm. A cry comes from below, an anxiety flaring familiar cry. You pull harder and uncover and dirty and bloody Yelena.
“LENA!” you shout and help her out. Her hands held her stomach. She smiles sickly and then curls in pain.
“Y/N. You found me. I hoped you would. Quick kiss me. I don’t have long,” Your eyes widen and you move her hands. The sight of her stomach makes you sick. Turning to the side you retch and vile spills from your mouth. You wipe your mouth and shake your head, tears fall hard now.
“Lena no no. You’re fine. We can fix you. Please,” you slide your arm under her and try to pick her up but she screams and goes limp in your arms.
“FUCK Y/N! stop. There's no hope. Please just kiss me. I don’t want to die without that.” you shake your head more and set her down. You refused to accept her death.
“No Yelena you are not going to die here. You can’t die. You are too well trained. a-and… I can't live without you. it’ll be fine,” She tries to raise her head but then it falls and she spasms. Your eyes widen and you do your best to hold her still but your broken wrist shoots in pain.
“No no no NO!” you kiss her over and over. Fear pulses through you and when she relaxes completely you sob. Your head aches from the pressure of your sobs and your broken wrist protests. Maybe hours pass and you sit there with her dead body pressed to your chest, her blood and guts smearing all over you.
Then guilt overtakes the sadness. She asked you for one thing. One single kiss before she died and you didn’t fulfill that. You couldn’t give her everything she deserved in life or even in her final moments.
You wake up shaking and screaming. Yelena is awake next to you, crying and shaking your shoulder violently.
“Please Y/N,” she sobs, snot and tears mix and fall forgotten. You sit up barely able to hold yourself up. She is alive.
“Fuck Yelena what’s wrong?” Your dream haunts you. You search her stomach and her whole body for major wounds. She is obviously unsure what you are doing and grabs your face forcing you to look at her.
“Y-you were shaking and screaming and crying and I didn’t know what was wrong. If you were having a seizure or what.” You shake your head and take deep breaths.
“No, I'm good. Not seizure. R-Really…” your words falter and you stare off, caught up in the memory of the dream. Yelena snaps in front of you and hugs your arm. “Ah sorry. Bad dream. really, really bad dream.” you stare at her head unsure if this was the dream or if Yelena really was alive.
“D-do you want to tell me about it?” Her arms slide under yours and she holds you from the side. You shake your head and lay it on her shoulder. “Ok but if you do tell me. I’ll hold you until you fall asleep again.”
The thought of being asleep again makes you tense up. Yelena feels it and rubs your side softly. She kisses you in every way she knows you like and pets your head.
“I’m not going to sleep. I can’t live through that again. It made me think I was going to be alone. Please don’t leave me Lena. please. I don’t wanna die alone.” She frowns and hugs you tight.
“I’m never going to leave you. I’m here baby. I’m here.” She kisses your jaw softly and you nod. Relaxing again, you wrap your arms around her waist and kiss her shoulders.
“Y-you died. There was a fire and I broke my wrist and it was smokey and you got impaled and you died. You asked me to kiss you and I couldn’t accept the fact you were dying so I didn’t kiss you. I couldn’t give you what you deserve.” She frowns and kisses you.
“No Y/N. Don’t you dare. It was just a nightmare, that’s all. I’m NEVER leaving you. ok?” She holds your face and kisses you softly. The kiss lasts a while and you melt into your touch. Fears still paralyse you every couple hours but she holds you until the sun comes up. She knows exactly what you love and how to make you feel safe. She really wasn’t ever going to leave.
~
Weeks pass. You are sure you have gotten past the nightmare. You go to work everyday and Yelena stays home going through paperwork. When you come home the two of you snuggle and bliss fills you. Your mother doesn’t ask you to come to any more charity events and you think maybe, just maybe things are good.
Then Yelena gets called on the mission. When she tells you she will be gone for a week your mind reels. You can barely see straight as the dream vividly flashes through your brain. Yelena gets worried, grabbing your hand and you back away searching her body for any sign of blood.
“No. Lena please. What if you get hurt? I-I can’t. You promised you’d never leave.” Her eyes look at you apologetically.
“Don’t worry. I’m a professional. It’s just a small info gathering job. Absolutely no danger,” she smiles at you and sets a hand on your shoulder. You back away from her hand and lean your head back to force the tears back.
“Yelena… ok. Please. Don’t get hurt,” She nods and kisses your cheek grabbing her bag.
You spend the entire week at home. Anxiety grips you so hard that you can’t stand to go to work. A fever strikes and you throw up every evening at almost exactly 10:30. Work tells you to stay at home and probably go to the doctor. Honestly you’d rather go to work so you have less time to think about her.
Most of Yelena's missions don’t allow for her to contact you and the stress of it all has your brain thinking of her the entire time she’s gone. By the time Yelena is on her way back you have dropped 12 pounds. You hadn’t eaten, only bothering to get up to feed Fanny. A cold sweat coats your skin and you hold your arms to you. Blankets were too hot, but it was too cold without them.
The alarm on your phone signalling it’s time to feed Fanny goes off. You throw the blankets off and wipe dried tears. The tv screen flashes a “keep watching screen.” You aren’t really sure when it came up but your mind hadn’t registered the tv in a couple days.
When the door clicks unlocked you scream. Silence had filled the apartment for so long and the sound was louder than anything you’d ever heard. Fanny starts barking, running to the door, then coming back and sitting at your feet.
You fall to the ground clasping the food scoop. Fanny licks your face as tears fall. Every fear that had plagued you came to the forefront of your mind. What if it wasn’t Yelena? What if it was Hill telling you to come in? No, they would call you for that. But if Yelena was dead…
Arms wrap around and pick you up, setting you on the couch. You whip your head back and forth trying to catch a glance of who it is. In the back of your mind you know it's her, but for some reason you’d been convinced over the past week that she’s dead.
A warm towel wipes away dried tears and snot, and a soft hand holds yours. Tears blur your vision but you steady your breaths. The anxiety in your chest dissipates. You lean your head back forcing the tears in and look back to catch a look at the woman you love. But, instead of long blonde hair and soft round face,  you see long red hair, falling in waves.
“Lena? Did you have to dye your hair for the mission?” She frowns and shakes her head, setting down the towel.
“Fuck Y/N. I know you can’t remember but I hate having to keep telling you this,” The voice is not Yelena’s. It’s your friends. Wanda’s. Your eyes look her all over and you tense up confused.
“Tell me what Wanda? What’s wrong with Lena?” She grabs both your hands and looks at you with the softest expression she can muster.
“The fire Y/N. Do you remember? The fire where Lena…. She bled out,” The anxiety of the dream. No memory. The smoke, your raw throat, and the hours of sobbing.
You shake your head and quick breaths fill your lungs. Wanda tries to get you to calm down. Your vision spots while your brain searches for oxygen your hyperventilating can’t provide.
“Y/N please calm down. Please. FUCK! I promised to never use it without permission but between the two of you…” Red magic flows from her hands and wraps around your head. Your breathing slows down and your vision comes back. Wanda cradles your head and hums.
You reach up and see the tear streaks on her face. Her eyes look bloodshot and dark circles are prominent under her eyes. You pout and try to hug her back. All the fears that had consumed you for weeks were now gone. Even if it was only by Wanda’s magic. You curled into her side and fell asleep. Finally able to find some peace.
~
It was the night of the charity gala. You drove home but had taken the long way around to cool off from your mothers subtle aggression. Plans on how to ignore her future advances build in your mind as you pull into the parking garage. You stepped out of the car and held your head in your hands. You hadn’t drank that much, but a headache would be inevitable.
Sirens sound from the road in front of your complex and you growl. The loud noise and lights make your head pound. You shake your keys and walk towards the stairwell. Coughing into your arm and you open the door to your floor. You throw your hand back with a scream at the hot door handle.
“the fuck…? NO!” forgetting your pain you throw open the door and run into the building. Smoke flows from under doors and fire licks at the walls. The sound of the siren gets louder from some open window. You run through the halls trying your best to not breathe in smoke. Yelena would be asleep. She wouldn’t know what’s happening.
Your apartment door is on the right and you stand back and kick the handle. Your foot hurts as it contacts the rough wooden door but it cracks. You kick again and the door falls in. Running through the door you smack your arm into the frame and cry out in pain.
Fanny barks from one of the rooms and you follow the noise letting her run free into the hallway. You hope dearly that the dog finds her way out.
The entirety of your home is consumed in flames. Beams that held up the apartment above you are on the floor. The poor old couple who was always so nice. Hopefully they had gotten out before it collapsed. Running to your bedroom you try to open the door. It gives quickly but before you can get to Yelena a strong arm grabs at your back.
“What the? HEY!” you squirm trying to slip out of the grip. You have no luck and result to punching. Nothing makes the arms let you go as they pull you from the building. Along the way down you consider it may be a firefighter saving your life.
“Please. My girlfriend, she’s still in there. Please, she was asleep. Save her. I can get out,” you plead with your “saviour”. The person doesn’t acknowledge any words or attempts of movement. They just carry you out of the building back into the parking garage. At some point you began crying, fearing for your girlfriends and your neighbours lives.
You are carried to a car and roughly thrown in. Your broken wrist, now remembered, aches and you curl into a ball. The driver doesn’t speak to you and the person who carried you doesn’t get into the car with you. You didn’t register the person in the back seat with you until they cough. Or rather She coughs.
“Oh Y/N I’m glad we got you out ok. I was so scared we wouldn’t be able to get you out before the fire got you too,” Your eyes widen at the familiar voice and you sit up looking into her eyes. The pieces fall into place in your mind. No you’d never thought she’d be this cruel. Yet here you were, Yelena and Fanny. They were in there.
“You didn’t. no no you didn’t. You are cruel and hateful but not murderous,” you pull away as a hand strokes your cheek. Hate flashes behind your eyes.
“Oh honey. You will forgive me when you realise it was for the sake of the family. Like they always say; ‘Mother knows best.’”
(So it has been decided this is going to be a series. Follow and shoot me an ask if you wanted to be added to the tag list for updates)
DO NOT repost my work. Reblogs and Likes are appreciated. If you enjoy my work leave a comment!
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thong-in-the-twist · 3 years
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Chapter: Gwangju
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//Gong Yoo (Kim Shin) x you
Summary: To atone for his sins he is forced to wander the Earth searching for her before it’s too late.
Prologue: Silla Goryeo Joseon Tamna March 1st
It's been three years since I updated this last. Exactly three years and 9 days, and I'm glad to be posting it. God it’s been so long I no longer remember how I used to format my entries. I don’t even remember my tagging system. A word of warning: modern Korean history is heavily marked with suffering and for the purposes of this story I needed "her" to go through... A lot. But there is only one chapter left, so hopefully, we won't be suffering a lot longer.
***
It was obvious to him that she was going to be reborn immediately. It worked like that for centuries, why this time it would have been different? So he started searching for her immediately, anxious. His land was crying, his people were suffering.
Forests were being cut down to fuel the new age, the industrialization age. Instead, the land was being converted into fields: rice, cereals, cotton. Colonizers were laying new roads, tarmac was flowing down the peninsula so similarly to cold mountain streams. All to fuel the new age, all to feed the great Japanese Empire.
Mines on the peninsula were running day and night, long shafts filled with exploited bodies. Names were being changed to Japanese sounding ones, men were forced to cut their hair, celibate Buddhist monks were forced to marry, kids were banned from learning Korean in schools, papers were censored, farmers forced out of their lands, his people were forced to worship Shinto, and to see the Emperor as a god.
Shamanistic rituals were even scarcer than during the reign of the Lee dynasty. People were no longer openly calling for him, but their thoughts thrown into the ether were reaching him. Pleas and begging, prayers and threats, all were filling his mind and heart. The burden was heavy. Not too heavy to carry, but it seemed harder than the sword he was carrying in his heart. It seemed heavier than the last memories of his other life, than the image of red on white stone.
She found her. Young girl in the seaside village, barely 20 kilometers north from the village where she was born as Binna, centuries ago. The village tree was still alive even if the village itself didn’t exist anymore. Kim Shin didn’t know what happened to it after he saw her sacrifice herself back then. Were it pirates, or wars, or famine that drew people out? There was no way of knowing it.
She was four when he found her. Back in Joseon she would have been found just in time, he’d have two years to convince her parents not to give her away. And then 11 years until she had to be wed. Her village was far off the beaten path. It was far from the capital and far from Japanese shores. People were hardened and down-to-earth but it was a tightly knit community. It was as safe as it could have been in that age and time.
Kim Shin spent his days under the Holy Tree, now surrounded by forest. He remembered the village square and colorful ribbons. He remembered tax collectors and their cart. He remembered Binna’s clothes and hair, and sword splitting her throat open.
Kim Shin visited her house by night. He hid in the shadows, not ready to be seen by her nor her parents. He watched her as she slept in the same room as the rest of her family. He watched her wondering what woman she would grow up to be. He hoped that he’d be able to shield her from any hardship that she was destined to face in her life.
While watching her sleep, he was reminiscing about her previous lives. Her bravery, her tenacity, her pride and her selflessness. The lives that were lived and ended for his people, the lives that were ended for him, the ones that were ended because of him.
Kim Shin was restless. He was used to waiting. He learnt to be patient after centuries of waiting and slowly working towards his goal. And yet, he was restless. Sitting by the Holy Tree he was restless and anxious. Her last life was sacrificed for the country. For this land, and for the people. And here he was waiting idly for her to grow up. She was safe.
The Holy Tree was old but strong, with new springs and bright green leaves. It was magnificent even without ribbons and paper talismans. It was safe, far off the beaten path.
Their people were not.
And yet, he was idly waiting for her to grow up and take away his burden, while sitting under the Holy Tree.
While their people were desperately begging for help.
She was safe. And he had time. He had enough time to present her the liberation of their people as a wedding gift.
And thus, Kim Shin was off once more.
*
Koreans were fighting on the peninsula, yes, but there were fighting abroad as well. Kim Shin supported the Provisional  Government of Republic of Korea in Shanghai, and aided students in Japan. When the empire invaded Manchuria, he was there fighting them off. He pleaded and negotiated with Chinese diplomats for them to move against the assailant before it was too late.
But the Central Kingdom waited too long, they were undecided way beyond what was safe. And thus, the Japanese attacked first.
The war that broke out drained the Korean peninsula even more. They were the ones to bear the brunt of feeding and supplying soldiers. And then, when Kim Shin was sure it couldn’t be worse, European war came to their lands, merging with the already raging Sino-Japanese conflict and bringing more players, more arms and more death into the equation. His people were forced into the Japanese army, forced to fight far away from their home – living and dying in China, Indonesia, Philippines.
He went where they were. It wasn’t their fight. They were farmers, artisans, teachers, workers – they weren’t warriors. He was. Kim Shin was back in the field, once more fighting for his homeland. Once more he took upon himself to be the most faithful agent of death. Immortal and determined, with unfamiliar weapon in his hand, but oh so familiar scent of blood, tears and fear clinging to him. The art of war changed through centuries but principles reminded the same.
But now it was harder to understand the purpose. It was harder to face dying foes. Every soul in his wake had hopes, and dreams, and dedication, and destiny – and yet he was invading the realm of the Divine, deciding who was to live and who was to day. What he did was to slaughter.
 But he was also fighting for his compatriots, forced to lay their lives for the occupant. He fought to save them and to bring them back to their land. He helped them escape, he cleared camps, he dealt with Japanese officers.
Japanese defeat was what they were hoping for anyway.
It was in Perek that faced his hardest encampment. It was in Perek that among Japanese officers and soldiers, and his people forced into ranks, he found others. It was in Perek that among male voices he heard female pleas.
It was in broad daylight that he marched through the camp, taking in the tents and appraising layouts and main locations. Where to get food, where to get supplies, where were the blind spots. It was in broad daylight that he heard a plea so similar to one he heard centuries ago in the Song Dynasty’s capital. So earnest and so broken plea of death.
After the first one came another, hurried and repeated like a mantra, like a prayer. And another, and another.
And another.
So familiar. So heartbreaking.
Here, so far from his homeland, he heard her begging for death. For an escape.
But she was safe. She was safe back in her village, on the shores of Eastern Seas. She was safe back in her village, so close to the Holy Tree.
And yet, it was her voice, strung thin and wavering, but unmistakably hers.
A taste of bile invaded his throat as he zeroed on a dilapidated building. Better than a shack only in the name, with dark walls and dirty windows barely containing the horrors inside. His surroundings seemed to disappear, sounds of the encampment dying out, the building his focal point.
He took his time. Waiting itself was horrible, pleas constant, it would have been so easy to just end it. End all of it, all of them, all of the oppressors, just raze the  camp to the ground. But he was afraid. Afraid of going inside and seeing that was happening, how they lived. It was easy to guess, and hard to understand. Justified rage was clawing his insides, not only for her, but for all of them. It wasn’t human to do, not that the occupant was ever human.
His fear was their prolonged suffering.
He fulfilled every one of their pleas. Every single one. Some wished for death, some wished for death for their oppressors. Some wished for health, some wished to never remember. Some wished for another chance in life, some wished for one last meeting with assailants and sharp object to meet them with. He did it all.
She wanted a knife. Sharp, and easy to conceal. She found it with glee and fervor. She wanted for her doors to be open and for night to be dark. She wished for rain, heavy and obscuring. She wished for that man to fall. To suffer. To know. To fear. To never forget.
Kim Shin watched her as she sneaked out of her room. He watched her back as she sneaked through the building, chastising himself for ever believing she was safe. It wasn’t even 15 years since he saw her last. He watched her as she found her prey. He watched her as she made sure that man would never do the same thing to another woman ever again.
His screams were muffled by a gag she made out of her sad excuse of a blanket. His blood was mixing with the falling rain, that matted her hair to her face. Her skin was ghostly, blush and looked paper-thin.
Once again he watched her as she raised her blade against herself. She was sure and focused,  and emanating finally found peace. She was quick and efficient, and he barely had time to catch her before she fell down. She was smiling when her head hit the cradle of his head and her open eyes were staring lifelessly at the rainy clouds.
Kim Shin sat there in the rain, holding her body, obvious to now quiet whimpers coming from the man laying a few steps away from him. Once more her life was filled with suffering. Was her childhood good? How did she grow up? How long was she here?
He didn’t cry – feeling like he did not deserve to. She wasn’t the only one of his people that went through this, and something was telling him that there were countless more suffering now.
*
Finding her was important, but making sure that the world she was being born into was better became urgent. Kim Shin knew he couldn’t deal with her suffering. All recent lives he witnessed ended in a tragedy. Queen trying to protect freedom, young girl fighting for it, and the one that saw it in death.
She deserved freedom, all of his people did.
And freedom came with pain, tears and even more death. Foreign powers fought over his land, influencing its growth and stagnation once again. His land was sold and divided even after its occupant lost the war. Both red and blue powers abhorred giving Koreans back their land and their freedoms, forcing their ideologies upon them.
And thus the greatest conflict shook the land once more. June 25th, the day when brother went against his brother. Three years. Three years of fights, civil war raging on the peninsula destroying what was left after 35 years of the occupation.
And even that conflict ended because outside powers decided so. Every death, every lost soul – it was all because foreigners decided to settle their differences right there on Korean soil. The wound left by the war was painful and still suppurating. Peninsula was divided into two, one nation was split and the border between them became a wall that separated families and broke people’s spirit.
He saw fourteen hundred years of conflicts and changes, and ups and downs, but the last hundred years were far the worst he had seen. For the first time in his long life he wasn’t sure how to go about finding her. If he even should. Every time he found her, he lost her just as quickly. She suffered so much.
But if he didn’t search for her, he was sure that the Divine would find another way to punish them. Like giving her knowledge of his existence and urging her to wait for him.
By now Divine schemes were somewhat readable. He’d find her where he’d least expect her – where she was supposedly the safest, yet in the biggest danger. People in the south were struggling, famine and corruption was rampant. North was getting help from other communist states and plotting expansion. And he couldn’t find her.
Just like when he found her on Tamna, she wasn’t here. She wasn’t within the borders of both Korean states. And that’s what horrified him. He looked in China, so many of his compatriots lived there. He looked in Japan among those who stayed after occupation. He searched in South East Asia among those who stayed after the second world war. He visited the United States of America, hoping to find her there. And yet, as if the Divine was shielding her from him, he couldn’t find her.
In Germany he saw the Wall. The Berlin Wall dividing one nation into two. The blue state and red state, just like his homeland, was divided. The Wall was fresh and imposing, newly built. A palpable sign of schism. A knife in a wound, cutting it more open with every breath. It wasn’t as protected as the inter-Korean border was but it served as a reminder of similarly painful division.
As Kim Shin walked by the Wall, on the western side of the border, he heard a cautious ask. Barely audible, fleeting.
The person was asking for a haircut. If he wasn’t over fourteen hundred years old, he’d dismiss it as an auditory illusion. What would be a Korean doing behind the Iron Curtain – asking for a haircut?
Kim Shin knew better. Kim Shin knew: she was there.
*
Finding his way into the USSR was easier than he thought it to be. As a citizen of the communist, neighboring nation, he was more than welcome. He travelled from Korea, surprised by the sheer numbers of Koreans on the USSR's eastern lands. But the closer he got to Europe the fewer they got. By the time he left Moscow, his head was clear and free of usual prayers. It was in Poland that he heard one more plea – a different voice, exactly the same ask.
Children. Who Kim Shin found were children. From 5 years old to 16. War orphans being cared for by people so vastly different from them.
She was among them, one of the oldest kids, happily chatting in weirdly hard language.
It took him quite long to understand why all the kids kept praying for a haircut. Their hair was neatly kept, just like their clothes, their rooms. There was something of military efficiency in the way they were being brought up, and Kim Shin understood that it was due to a few Korean supervisors that came here with kids.
Kids were cared for, but not exactly loved. That’s why they thought so fondly of getting haircuts. Hairdressers would pat and massage their heads – that was an extent of warmth they were getting.
*
She and the rest of the kids were sent back to Korea a few months later. She drowned in a river when she tried to escape back to her European orphanage for the third time. Yalu River was her undoing, just like those centuries ago cold waters of the sea took her away.
So much death. So much suffering. What for?
As the North's situation was getting worse, the South started fighting for its economy. Authoritarian governments in both Koreas were similar in goals but different in execution, and slowly their fates were changing. South Korea was coming out of poverty, just as North Korea started spiraling into it.
With newly found resources South Koreans were finally able to think and want – and what they wanted was freedom. Freedom through free choice and democracy. Assassination of general Park, southern dictator, seemed like a perfect opportunity – but before democratic movement could raise its momentum it was brutally squashed.
***
“If we all go, they won’t be able to hold him! We need to get him out!”
Every frantic sentence is met with loud approval. You weren’t surprised when they formed a new government without looking back at people. You weren’t surprised when Chun Doohwan took over KCIA while still holding his position in the Korean Army. Of course he would. Even martial law wasn’t a surprise. But a few hours ago you heard that they arrested Kim Daejung.
Kim was an oppositionist. He was fighting for democracy in your country, and what was more important he was from your region. Rumors said that he was being held on charges of instigating demonstrations.
What a bull…
You were there all because you wanted to be there, and wanted better for your country.
“They are closing the university!” The shout could be heard above the other voices. Suddenly the thirty of you fell silent. You focused on the man that shouted it. You knew his face, you might have seen him once or twice in the library.
“What…?”
“Chun declared universities to be dangerous to society!” The roar that follows is deafening. There is no more “inciting”, all of you immediately walk to the university, gathering other students while marching.
The road leading to the main entrance is long, which gives you a perfect view of army vehicles parked in front of it. Soldiers organizing were also visible, moving with purpose or watching you with caution.  Your group wasn’t big. Maybe two hundred souls. You weren’t sure what was the plan – but the goal was clear – to show that you wouldn’t take it lying down. They couldn’t take it all. Freedom, Kim Daejung, universities.
You weren’t sure who threw the first stone. It was all a blur. There was shouting, screams and orders, flying stones and falling batons. The students’ group dispersed only to form back, and to scatter once more but this time closer to the Provincial Office.
This time soldiers were wearing riot gear.
*
“You know well that I am going back out there!”
Your mother's eyes are filled with tension. The same tension pushes her lips into a thin line drawing her wrinkles out. She won’t back down, but neither will your brother and you.
“Mom, it’s what we have to do. They killed Gyeongcheol,” says Chanhwan. He is a high school senior and his goal was to get into your university.
“His poor mother,” whispers your mother as if against herself. That was something she said every time this was mentioned. Soldiers in riot gear killed Kim Gyeongcheol as he was passing by protesters. It infuriated the city and their protest was gathering momentum, but every person counted.
They needed to pay. For Gyeongcheol and for those who were killed yesterday.
What you wouldn’t tell your mother is the fact that you got guns. Yesterday you raided one of the military warehouses. It wasn’t an usual protest anymore, it was an uprising. Chanhwan told you that he heard that folks were talking about liberating Gwangju and making it into a free city. An official request for help was being drafted to be sent to the US Embassy. A country so enamored with freedom would for sure help you.
Freedom.
That’s what you longed for.
A horn outside let you know that your transport was there. Chanhwan was already out the doors, you stalled a second to grab your mother’s hand.
“Believe in us, mom. We will be back, victorious,” you said with emphasis. The world was yours to take and you wouldn’t hesitate. You run outside, not waiting for her to answer, and jump into the waiting taxi.
What an odd vehicle to be driving to a fight.
*
City was cordoned off and outside communications were cut. It didn’t scare you off. Nothing could, really.
Taxi was slowly rolling down the street, Chanhwan laying low in the driver's seat. He knew that as soon as he raised his head, he’d be dead. You knew that there were forces on the other end of the street aiming at you with their guns, hidden behind covers.
You and Chanhwan’s friend Sunwoo were slowly creeping along the car, using it as a moving shield. You could see a body that you were tasked with retrieving. You hoped the girl was alive. You all knew that not moving after being shot increased your chances of surviving if you couldn’t move on your own.
Suddenly you heard a loud bang and sounds of automatic fire.
“Run!” yelled Chanhwan and you didn’t need to be told twice. With Sunwoo you lurched forward trying to match Chanhwan’s accelerations. You kept your head low as smoke filled the street. Sunwoo was the first to reach the body.
Dead.
Boy opened back doors and together you pushed the lifeless body inside – not caring for decency you jumped inside as Sunwoo closed doors behind you. You heard him get in and Chanhwan was speeding off.
Girl’s hair smelt of flowers.
*
A helicopter was flying overhead. You’ve never would have guessed that you’d learn how to make Molotov’s cocktail. But there you were pushing a rag into a bottle. Sunwoo was in the field hospital, chances of saving his leg quite high. Which was more than could be said about many of your friends.
Casualties were high, but you weren’t ready to give up. The uprising cost the city too many lives to be so easily abandoned.
How could your government do that? You didn’t know. But you hoped for those soldiers to spend the rest of their lives knowing that they killed their own.
Chanhwan was on the other side of the street, giving you signs. You focused on him and he started slowly counting down with his fingers. As soon as you saw him countdown to zero, you threw your bottle.
There was an explosion and a sudden yell. You didn’t stay put to see the effect, you needed to escape as fast as possible. On your left you could see a group of fifteen or so students running the other way. There were fires and smoke and it could be hard to realize what was happening.
You lost your footing as you realized that Chanhwan was not running parallel to you. It seemed like eternity as you looked back to see him lying on the corner of the street. You could see his dark uniform jacket slowly dampening with even darker liquid.
It wasn’t conscious. Nor your scream, nor your leap.
The first bullet going through your arm was more surprising than painful. Second one caught your leg, tripping you down, the third one pierced through your clavicle as you fell. You saw smoke, and soldiers moving forward with riot shields, and your brother laying on the street, and an abandoned taxi. You saw another group of students running somewhere to your right.
Pavement was hot from the sun as you fell down. It didn’t hurt, or maybe it was so painful that you couldn’t feel it.
You saw a blue butterfly flying away.
***
Kim Shin forced his way into the fighting city. Through fields and through the army, he walked into the fray. No one knew. A village ten kilometers away? No one knew what was happening in the city. There were rumors, but not one could have prepared him for the riots he saw.
He saw students organizing, he saw local militias forming, he saw field hospitals being erected, he saw taxi and bus drivers using their vehicles to help the cause.
Had he done everything he could? No. Was it resignation? Maybe.
How many times had he seen her fighting? Why every time he saw her she was either suffering or leading a good fight. Why was she always selfless, and always right in the center of a turmoil ailing his nation. Just once couldn’t she be selfish and live?
Seeing her protest against authoritarian government barely half a century after she did the same against occupation filled him with unfamiliar annoyance. Rage. Why her. What did she do to be always reincarnated into such circumstances.
Was it even worth pursuing her?
Was it his atonement for not killing his king eons ago, even when she sacrificed herself. Was she destined to be laying her life for a cause while he watched her do it?
Defiance. That was what stopped him from acting. He could have gone on a rampage. Just like when he was a general, fighting with Gaya’s warriors. It wouldn’t have been hard, decimating troops. Those already stationed in the city, and those that would undoubtedly come to reinforce them.
He felt old. He was old. Looking at the fighting city he felt like it wasn’t his fight.
In the city he saw a foreigner. A foreigner with a camera. Documenting what was happening, what atrocities were committed on Gwangju’s streets.
Instead of watching her die once again he decided to protect the foreigner. To make sure that his recordings would be seen by the world.
As Kim Shin protected the foreigner, he didn’t realize that he could no longer hear prayers.
131 notes · View notes
softlyjiminie · 4 years
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to hold a dragon’s heart | k.t.h
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⇢ pairing(s): dragon prince!kim taehyung x warrior princess!reader,
⇢ word count: 19.1K.
⇢ rating: 18+, mature.
⇢ genre: smut, angst, fluff,  forbidden romance, dragon shifter!au, royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au.
⇢ summary: two kingdoms, two hearts and the world between them. your whole life has been a challenge,  never an easy moment on your road to becoming queen but will one decision, one encounter with the man you were destined to hate, change the fate of your worlds, forever?
⇢ warning(s): please read! major character death, violence ( torture scenes + fight scenes ), war, cursing, alocholism, unrequited love, arranged marriages, failing marriages,  imprinting, painful sickness, unexpected pregnancies, slight prejudice against mythical creatures and women, heavy smut, unprotected sex ( please wear protection ) , virgin + dom!taehyung, virgin + sub!reader, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral sex ( male + female recieving ), nipple play, light degredation + dirty talk, breeding kink, cumplay, creaming, cunnilingus, slight exhibitionism, male masturbation,   taehyung has a two-headed penis (with spines), teaehyung has charcoal flavoured cum— i may have gotton carried away…
⇢ author’s note(s): hello everyone! this is my contribution to the @ficswithluv​ Love Library project! i was a part of the fantasy category with @jamaisjoons​ !! i worked really hard on this fic, and it’s probably my biggest work, i’m so proud of it so i really really hope you guys enjoy and leave some feedback <3
⇢special mention(s): i would like to thank my baby, miss gia of @fantasybangtan​ for helping me muse and giving me inspiration to complete this fic, as well as giving me feedback on this hefty boy n making it’s beautiful banner !! ( also i named the sea after you ) anddd my little babie @fantasyjoon​ for letting me name a kingdom after her teehee. I wuv u guys <3
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two kingdoms, two hearts and the world between them. your whole life has been a challenge,  never an easy moment on your road to becoming queen but will one decision, one encounter with the man you were destined to hate, change the fate of your worlds, forever?
on opposing sides of the enchanted forest, lay two kingdoms. one, painted with magic and mystery, from the soils to the creatures that rules the skies. the other, a land blessed with human life, cultivation and opportunity.
the Avalerian dynasty, land of the mystical and the Phantis empire, land of the man. both peaceful kingdoms, until war struck.
when you were young and with a curious mind, when tales of battle between warrior and warlock were used to put your infant heart to rest, you would ask questions. many of them, but one always seemed to snub the minds of your elders. 
“why do we fight the war? why did it start?” you would beam curiously up at your mother, Queen aadaya. she was a beauty, hair dipped in the white snows of the Huntcan tip mountains, laced with the silver moon at its highest. her skin was smooth, illuminated by starlight and her heart, as pure as any gold. but queen aadaya was a warrior, trained in the arts of her people, like her mother and her grandmother before that. she had hoped to one day, train yourself and your siblings as well.
your mother shuffled over on the bed, squishing your eldest brother, hoseok and yourself, while pulling your younger sister—tamarae, into your lap. 
you remember so clearly, your mother tilting her moon crescent eyes and brushing back the hair on your face. “we fight for safety, of you and all children.”
lies.
you had yet to learn, as a naive little five year old, what war could do to innocents such as your mother. such as your people. war was not kind to anyone it met, it’s  raging scent of death and decay and blood reaching every corner of your once ethereal home until nothing was left. nothing but sadness, loss and a hole in your heart. 
you lost your mother by order of assassination on the night of your eighteenth birthday. they say, as a revenge attack, for the death of the dragon king but it was then that you learned that war took no prisoners, it had no mercy. war was not like the lullabies and stories your mother told. that day, the kingdom mourned the loss of their queen, and you mourned the loss of your mother, the safety she promised, a lie on the ghost of her lips. 
hoseok was drafted into the war not a year later, his own doing. he trained hard but not as good as yourself, you would joke. he was to keep hold on some land by elvin territory and whilst it wasn’t much, it was everything to your brother. hoseok could do something to avenge his mother. the day before his deployment, you sat with your siblings on your bed like you would as children, sneaking snacks from the chef’s daughter that hoseok promised to wed on his return. the three of you giggled and smiled and reminisced, ending the night with tears and tight grips on each other, praying that your family would be together again.
years later, you sit aged twenty one in front of the royal court. with hoseok gone and your father unfit to rule, you were next in line to inherit your mother’s throne. the chair itself, towering with a twisted golden design, was forged from the molten treasures of the dragons themselves. tamarae sits to your left, poised in a lesser dramatic chair and gown and to the right of you, your advisor, jungkook.
“why have you come?” your voice drifts through the throne room, eyes narrow on the pathetic excuse for a man before you. your father rises from his kneel, watching you with pleading eyes. in the years between now and your mother’s death, any relationship with your father had dwindled. he grew power hungry, gambling away any riches in hoping what he earned would replace the loss in his heart. he drunk whatever he could find, rendering himself ill. you often wondered why your mother ever allowed such a man to father her children. 
“i come, with but a suggestion, daughter.”
tamarae looks to you, worry struck on her young, delicate features. yet, your steely gaze remains in line with your father’s, an anger brewing in your stomach. it was not uncommon for your father to want to challenge you in front of the court, undermine your power as you made your road to queen. you had yet to prove yourself, according to the court but you hand an inkling feeling that was your father’s doing.
 “a suggestion, pray tell?” you jest, replacing your glare for a delicate smile. a giggle bubbles from your lips, making the lords and ladies flinch. “my people and armies are fed, the livestock and farms are thriving, we have hold on all land claimed by men and yet, dearest father, you continue to doubt me.” like your mother, you had many who doubted your role as a women in power, you learned to be kind but ruthless, in order to survive. 
the man himself, withered to the bone with sagging old eyes and a wheeze in his chest, rises from his knees with a dark glint in his eye. “my grace, whilst i mean you no disrespect, but by royal decree you are still unfit to rule,” he explains, gesturing to the court with wide arms. “you lack one thing.” 
narrowing your eyes, you lean forward in your throne as your jewellery glitters and rustles around your neck. the tension in the room is thick, a knife would barely be able to cut it, “like, what?” 
“a king.” 
you rip your body from your seat, sister following suit along with your royal guard. how dare he? the sick man, run along and say you needed a king to help guide you as queen. your mother had managed just fine on her own, taking the throne from a young age and resisting the temptation of men. until she met your father, a lowly bread maker and made him the man he is today. 
he had always envied her power, much as he did with yours. 
“a king? a king like you? pathetic and on his knees like the drunk bastard he is. i digress,” you seethe, much to the amusement of your court. but your father knows your wit, knows your weakness, after all he is the man who raised you. 
“it is by royal law, for a young queen to marry, my dearest YN...” the man begins, tilting his head up at you as he basks in the support of the lords and ladies around him. “and if you want to prove yourself worthy to the court, i suggest you start, with accepting a suitor.” 
“ridiculous!” 
an advisor from beside you, the predecessor to jungkook, steps forward wordlessly and blinks to you as if he’s asking permission to speak. “with all do respect, your highness, your father does have a point...it is required of you by law to...” 
their words are silenced with a quick glare, your nostrils are flaring from how angry you are and suddenly the blue silk gown that you wear is too tight and too fitting. tamarae places a hand on your shoulder to help calm your nerves, your little sister had always been in tune with your emotions, much like your mother had.  the young princess even resembled the queen, with tumbling wisps of snow white hair and kind eyes. 
“breathe,” she whispers to you, helping you fix your poise. “you’re doing just fine.” 
standing up talk, you ease your shoulders and smile smugly at your father. “since the men of this room, seem to doubt my ability to lead... i will prove the council before me, wrong,” your grin only widens when they ask you how, and you feel your sister’s worrisome stare burning into your cheeks. “by bringing you the heart of a dragon.” 
“don’t be ridiculous, your highness!” 
a lord from goodness knows what county calls, you only roll your eyes, making your way down the steps to pass your father smugly. the court has broken into a series of whispers, anxious, excited and concerned. the men around you have grown complacent, too comfortable with the idea of overthrowing you and making you weak. 
“silence!” you bellow, turning to address every being in the room. you hum in satisfaction as the quieten down, letting your mantle made of the finest cotton, trail behind you. “no man, no king has ever brought the heart of the dragon to this kingdom. if i am to prove myself worthy to you, then this is how it shall be. laugh if you must, doubt me if you will. but i was born and raised a warrior and in my mother’s footsteps, i shall follow.”
with that, the meeting is concluded and your father is left gobsmacked, once again. 
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“don’t do anything stupid, YN,” tamarae mumbles to you that evening. you stand in her quarters, dressed in traditional fighting gear. the pants are a dark grey, patterned with swirls of a lily flower and embroider with your kingdom’s emblem of a crystal lily. the top matches, only this time you wear padding to ensure your protection. “and make sure you don’t get hurt.” 
you scoff, shuffling on a cloak and pulling the hood over your head to disguise your face. royalty wasn’t allowed out of the palace after dark, due to the risk of unexpected assassination. the council put the law into place after the tragic loss of their beloved queen. “as if I’d ever allow myself to experience any form of pain.” you tut, twirling around to locate your sword.
the weapon had been a gift from your mother, on the day of your eighteenth. she had deemed you a  worthy warrior, fit for battle after many years of training. it was a shame that she would not be able to see  you use it now. 
“you know what i mean, YN,” your younger sister sighs, pushing herself to stand and handing you the sheathed sword. a bright smile pulls at your lips and you lean down to press a kiss into her moonlit hair. “what if you don’t bring back the dragon heart? you’ll call yourself a fool and beat yourself up about it.”
“i won’t, i promise,” you hum, shaking your head down at tamarae. she was young and she worried for your recklessness, much like a mother would for her child. guilt was deepset within you, despising how your sister grew up barely remembering the woman who gave her life. “now if anyone asks...” 
“you wish not to be disturbed.” tamarae gives you a soft smile, manoeuvring her hands to grip yours. she gives them a gentle squeeze before backing away.
you give your sister a quick nod of the head before sliding out of her window and slipping into the night. 
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the enchanted, Mailtaria forest was nothing like you had imagined. 
according to fairy tails, it was full of beasts and blood and gore but instead, you found twisted oak trees forming the shapes of hearts, soil that illuminated beneath your feet. the air was crisp, yet some how, warming and scented with the faintest of flowers. 
roses. 
you know in your heart, that if the war was nothing but a myth, yourself and your siblings could play here for hours on end as children. as you walk, your mind drifts to hoseok, wondering if he’s safe. the eldest of your siblings had been determined to fight the war ever since your mother’s passing, a headstrong boy who was fast on his feet but not with his mind. 
the crack of a snapping branch in the distance kicks your senses into overdrive, making you duck in anticipation of a sudden attack. with a hand hovering over the sheath of your sword, you inhale deeply through your nose to keep your heart rate steady. there is no time for nerves, YN, no time for hesitance. 
dragons were not creatures of remorse. 
you ease yourself out of the bushes, mindful of the ruffling leaves that glow with some kind of fluorescence, magic that you’d not once laid your eyes on in your entire life. had you not been in the deep wood of the enchanted forest, to find and kill the dragon prince, you would have admired them more. 
“why do you come, bearing a weapon?” 
perhaps you may have spent too long, admiring the glistening petals.
you gasp, whipping out your sword and holding its point to the throat of the boy before you. slowly, your eyes trail upwards, shock connecting in your irises as you realise that he’s...floating. the boy has the hair of the silver moon, eyes as deep blue as the rough and raging Gialara seas, his lips are the colour of a blood rose with small and pearlescent fangs resting comfortably against their plumpness. he also wears a loose silk shirt that hangs simply from one shoulder, exposing his pale and slightly scaled skin. his pants are also lose, black in colour like the night sky to match his shirt. you note, that while he floats upside down, head tilted back towards you and body arched, he is also barefoot. 
this must’ve been him, this must’ve been. “the dragon prince,” you hum cooly, steeling your eyes and reaffirming your stance. “i’m here to kill you.” your brows furrow in concentration, and the boy’s, in confusion. the dragon prince, pushes his bottom lip into a pout as he twists his body to face you fully. he sets himself down, against the plush grass and uses a single finger to flick your sword to the side. 
“you have found me, yes,” the boy nods, giving you a tilted and faint smirk after his curious stare fades away. “i am kim taehyung, son of Veles and prince of the dragons...” the dragon watches as your stance falters, mouth open in shock at his strength to manipulate your mother’s sword. your palms begin to sweat at the sound of his full title, the name of the dragon king reminding you of the loss of your mother. “and i know, you will not kill me. i sense your being is far too compassionate to kill a living thing.”
you huff, dropping your arms and sending the vile thing a seething scowl. “you don’t know a thing about me-“ 
“my apologies, princess YN, i’m afraid i don’t,” taehyung interrupts you, stepping forward to inspect you closely. it was almost as if he had never seen a human before, but then again he was nothing like what you expected, especially in a dragon prince. before you can blink, you have been cornered into a tree, completely vulnerable and in the open. if he wanted to, taehyung could kill you right then and there, for the first time that night, a sprinkle of fear and adrenaline pumps it’s way through your veins. you  glance up at the regal creature, shocked that he even knew such detail about yourself and bite your lip. “in that case, might you enlighten me as to, why you seek to take my life?”
taehyung is not what you expected at all, the question bouncing softly from his lips, as you begin to loosen up. his eyes shift to yellow under the light and you start to feel warm, as if you can trust him. “my father wants proof, that i would make a great and honourable Queen.” you explain bluntly, unsure of why the words feel foreign when mentioning it.
“interesting,” the prince comments, quirking  a brow and smirking down at you as he rises off of his feet. “humans and their need for death and honour, i will never understand.” 
and with that, taehyung disappears into the darkness of the forest. a chill runs up your spine, confused at your meeting but left wondering, what more was there to the dragon prince?
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“...and then there’s the marriage proposal from prince seokjin, from the shatus kingdom overseas, would you like me to accept or deny?” jungkook drawls, feeling accomplished as he skips over the final sentence with a light frown. his heart clenches, but he doesn’t say anything further.
“yes, very good jungkook.” 
“YN...”
“mhm...”
jungkook sighs, closing his book before tucking it under his arm for safety. he wouldn’t have been so annoyed if you were at least, half listening to him. tapping his foot in annoyance, the young advisor furrowed his brow deeply. “well in that case, i’ll spread word to  the royal bakers that you will be requesting a cake made of pigs slop for the wedding party?” 
“sounds wonderful,” 
“...we’ll even give out small favours of their droppings too...”
“i’m sure the dukes and duchesses would love that, jeongguk...”
“i’m sure the whole kingdom would be delighted to know that you’re marrying kim seokjin.” 
you slam your palms down on the windows, whipping your head to look at jungkook in shock. an amused grin tugs at his lips, as he approaches you to ruffle your hair fondly. now you were paying attention. “i will do no such thing!” you protest, pink painted lips forming a pout as you make an effort you lay down your tundra of wild locks. “me? marriage? what a preposterous idea. i should have you executed for that.” 
“maybe now, you’ll learn to listen to me, your highness?” the raven haired boy titters, giving you an exaggerated bow. “you could never do such a thing to your oldest friend, YN.” yourself and jungkook had been acquainted ever since you could walk, a beautiful friendship blossoming over the many years. his father, had been your mother’s most trusted advisor during the war, he too passing away after the loss of your queen. it seemed that fate had its own twisted way of keeping yourself and jungkook together, for he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, much like you.
shaking your head, you push at his shoulders with a hidden grin and listen to the chime of his medallions as he sways. the silver lily on his chest, the symbol of the royal court, glistens much like the eyes of the man you met last night. taehyung’s beauty had entranced you so much, that the task at hand had been forgotten. of course, no one in the castle expected you to bring the head of a dragon back straight away...but something in you longed to see the awe, the shock and the respect on their faces when you did. they would learn to see you as their queen. 
but something about taehyung, made you weak in the knees. an inexplainable feeling, a shy tint to your cheeks and a beat in your heart. he was different, not at all what you expected. walking away from jungkook, you pivot on your heel, the flush to your cheeks becoming more obvious by the second. “there will be no more marriage proposals from now on, jungkook. make that clear to the neighbouring kingdoms.” you remark, nodding your head with the wisps of a smile against your lips. 
one of things, about having known you so long, is that jungkook could read you like an open book. the advisor could tell you were distracted, softer. it was almost as if his soon-to-be queen’s resistant and hard exterior had crumbled. this wasn’t your usual rejection of proposal, whereby you would growl and grumble so much so that the Huntcan tip mountains would quake in your presence. no, this was much like the time where the baker’s eldest son, yoongi, had snuck some treats up to your room when you were children. you had developed an infatuation for yoongi throughout your early teenage years, until he left the kingdom to open his own bakery, kissing you behind the rose bush in the royal garden on the night before he left. 
this was fascination, this was admiration. “you like someone,” jungkook teases lightly, a knowing smile tickling at the corners of his lips. “did you find a compatible suitor, is that it?” 
“the throne is my only object of affection,” you sigh, zealously. you twirled, a bright twinkle igniting stars in your eyes as the thought of taehyung’s silver lined ones and you can feel the excitement build in your veins. “a suitor? perhaps not,” the corner of your lips twitch up into a mischievous grin. “but the throne...it is a rather large one, is it not? awfully big for just one person.” 
jungkook raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed while his jaw tightens and his tongue pokes into his cheek. “i see, i’ll be sure to have the staff engage in some...extensive cleaning of the throne room. we can’t have her highness leaving messes.” he states, lips falling into a flat line. tilting your head, the glint in your eye dissipates and thick somber feeling fills the room. 
“jeonggukie?” you question with a quiet voice, swallowing thickly at his unexpected change in mood. 
the advisor shakes his head, tussled locks falling over his eyes. jungkook turns, shrugging with the book still tucked under his arms, prepared to leave the room. “if i may be excused, princess, i have duties to attend to.” 
“ah yes, of course...duties.” the whisper falls from between your lips, as you watch him go with an aching chest.
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the view at castle ashwyn was one not to be taken for granted. the skies were daubed with gradients of apricot, papaya whip, and cherry blossom pink with dusting of baby power white as cotton candy clouds. the breeze was fresh, tinted with mint and rose, carrying the scents of the many flowers that twirled along the turquoise marble pillars of the castle. 
the grass outside was freshly cut all the way up to the village, where creatures of all kind walked amongst each other. pixies, werewolves, elves and all, living together in harmony and if you squinted hard enough, over the towering trees, you could see where they lived. the humans. 
taehyung hated it. 
the sickly sweetness that constantly surrounded himself and his people, where all that was in the human world was death, despair, greed and power imbalances. he hated the falsities that engulfed his father’s death, how everyone pretended. 
that there was no life of suffering outside of his own.  
it was beautiful here, life touched every corner to cover the illusion of the war beyond these walls. the prince felt trapped. he wanted to break free of all expectations, experience the world and see the legends he had been told as a child. taehyung was not a fool to the whispers, the taunts and teases from the royal courts. they had always doubted him for his optimistic view on the simple things, on them, for humans had taken his father and so he was destined to resent them for the rest of his life. 
“taehyung, my love, what preys on your mind today?” 
taehyung’s mother, the dragon queen, was a soft spoken and wise woman. ever since the death of his father, there had been many attempts to overthrow her from many kinds...including the sirens. and yet, they never once succeed as only royalty of dragon’s blood can bestow the crown. dragons had ruled the land of the Avalerian dynasty since the dawn of time, forging the first crown from the molten minerals buried deep beneath the castle’s soils. they were the most powerful of all creatures, dominating the earth as their large majestic forms but the dragons were also prime game for hunting, their scales and horns could go for up to a hundred gold coins. so the dragons learned to adapt, becoming shifters with a half human form, this allowed them to retain their abilities as dragons whilst allowing them to walk free amongst the humans.
the queen was stunning, and perhaps that is where the young prince inherited his charming look. her scales were of a deep cherry, shimmering under the lights like the brightest of diamonds. her black hair had curled tendrils that spiralled down her back and her skin was tanned by the golden suns of apollo. with piercing, aquatic eyes, queen elantris tilts her head to look at her son, she had always known his shifts in mood and thanked her maternal instinct for being able to read her ominous child.
“it’s nothing, your highness,” the young prince muses simply, turning to his mother with soft eyes and an awkward smile. smiling fondly, elantris shook her head and approached her son, wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug. her tail swishes behind her, in her half shifted state, the castle being too small to accommodate for the large size of royally bred dragons. taehyung spares a glance to the older, and shorter woman, squinting carefully to see the diamond-slit irises in her yellowing eyes. it was almost laughable at how well dragons were able to shift between states, taking on a human form is completely desired. that is how they killed the human king. mastering the art of disguise. “perhaps, i am exhausted, i had a rather gruelling night.” 
“deep in thought again, my love dear?” elantris chuckles, brushing back  the fading ashy locks from her son’s forehead. taehyung sucks in a calmed breath, closing his eyes at his mothers warm touch and allows himself to shift too. he is much more relieved to have is tail free, blackened and swishing behind him. his ears become pointed and irises shift into diamond slits. elantris beams as her child transforms. “you’ve been keeping yourself hidden, i see.” 
“i needed to be out, some fresh air to clear the mind, mother...” the prince whines and stretches, shivering as his ash scales form over his skin and hair fades from grey to black. 
taehyung pouts under the gaze of his mother, what a sight to see. the most regal prince, pouting under the amused gaze of his parent. “away with your thoughts, as you always have been, my prince...” elantris lilts and lets go of the boy, moving towards her seat on the throne. the seat itself is glorious, spiralling toward the ceiling with peaks in its molten crystal. “what preys on your mind?” 
the young dragon, ruffling out his hair and adjusting his clothes. he wears a jewelled black jacket, a gradient of white pearls to obsidian diamonds. he adorns a fitting pair of black pants and boots with heels. taehyung shift his gaze to the diluting pink skies above and breathes heavily. “humans...why is that we despise them?” 
taehyung’s mother sucks in a breath,  tongue swiping over the ruby of her lips. the prince turns his body to look at the queen properly, tilting is head and poking his own tongue into his cheek as he eases a brow, awaiting his mother’s answer. “dragons are stubborn creatures, most unforgiving...it is not easy for us to forget,” elantris explains noncommittally, keeping her voice study and demeanour controlled.
“what is there to be forgotten? how did this all start?” 
“that is what we have yet to learn my son, this conflict has been raging on for centuries now, words and swords alike...twisted,” the dragon queen pauses, looking her son directly in the eye. “twisted into lies and fatalities...”
“and so...we fight?” taehyung prompts, his stomach bubbling with unease at his mother’s cryptic words. 
elantris nods, head held high. “and so, we fight.” 
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“you are forgiven, you know.” 
you look up from your flower crown, fluorescent roses and tiger lillies woven together by their grass green stems and frown. taehyung is sitting in the trees, his hair is now the colour of a teal tinged with blue while his eyes simmered a warm amber in the cool night. 
meeting taehyung had been nothing but a coincidence, yet you found yourself becoming grateful for your accidental meetings. the clearing you shared with him had followed you to your dreams, being with him under the moonlight now brought you to ease.
“forgive me for what? do tell.” you probe tartly and turn your body in the grass to ask why. the dragon prince drops from the tree and you screw your eyes shut in fear of hearing the sickening crunch that often accompanies broken bones. but instead the prince floats above you, face but mere inches from yours as a taunting smirk touches lightly at his lips. a rosey hue tickles the apples of your cheeks as you look away, cursing the creature from under your breath. 
taehyung smiles and settles himself on the ground, sinking to his knees to aid you in making some flower crowns. “for being human,” the dragon shrugs nonchalantly and picks up a completed crown, leaning forward to place it stop your hair. his lips are a breaths width from your skin, and a warmth bubbles in your chest at the prospect of feeling them against yours, eyes closing. when you open them, you gasp at the proximity of they prince, blinking rapidly and blushing. he’s so close that it seems like he was watching you. “mother says dragons must learn to be forgiving. so here i am, forgiving you.” 
“what makes you think, that you are not required to seek my forgivenesses well?” you counter as a slight aggression weaves it’s way into your question, tilting your head upwards with stern eyes. taehyung bites his lip, slit tongue poking out to wet them at their swell. “should you not owe it to me? while my people die fighting against your best men, do you not believe that an apology from yourself, would be quite fitting?” 
you chose this moment to shuffle away from taehyung, turning to face the trees
in the distance as you pat the heat away from your cheeks. “your people have magic, powers. and mine? nothing but a bare chest, swords and a shield. yet, you do not hear me forcing the forgiveness of my people upon you,” you point out— almost too harshly, twirling a piece of grass between your fingers. “you sit, protected in your realm while only your most powerful touch the bloodied soils. you kill, as do i. i do not seek your forgiveness, but the life of my people instead. the life of young boys,” a pause in your speech allows your mind to flicker back to hoseok, your fingers how clenching the grass within your disgust. “barely fit to fight, that are drafted into the war. women and children who are torn apart. please, forgive me, for not wanting to accept your so called forgiveness.”
“how do you know this? that we only send out best?” taehyung queries nervously, his tone quiet as his feet come into your blurry field of view. he senses in his chest that you’re hurt, scared and in pain. this is what the war did, not to his people but to the humans. it hurt you. everyone. 
the laugh that passes your lips, is cold and cynical. your eyes possess a glassiness, glittering with fresh tears as you look to taehyung with anger painted against your face. “you have just told me.”  
guilt washes over the dragon as he crouches down before you, placing a finger under your chin to tilt your head up to face him. his thumb brushes the tears that spill from the corner of your eyes as his lips form the words that whisper, “i’m sorry.” 
he is sorry for your pain, he is sorry for the burden that you bare on your shoulders. he is sorry that he cannot make it stop, he is sorry. 
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the following weeks bring you back to the clearing, where taehyung desperately tries to erase his night of ignorance. you would meet nightly, under the sky with glittering constellations and stars that told a thousand and one stories. you were away from the world where lives were torn apart and the cloud of death was ever growing. 
you were alone and happy.
taehyung would show you many of his tricks, how he could birth a flame just by the click of his fingers. how he could make smoke rise from his ears and nose and how the colour of his hair changed with his mood. the prince had become your friend, a regular occurrence to your life that you could not deal without. 
but tonight, you would be prevented from such luxuries. 
the tips of your fingers dabbed lightly at your lips, buffing the ruby red into your flesh. a maid worked by your side, primping and prepping locks of your hair so that they shone under the crystal lights. your makeup was light, yet fierce, shades of mint and green spreading across your eyelids to match the fitting ballroom gown you wore. it was lace that curled into silver lily flowers,  from the shoulders and down to your hips, twisting into a wide tule skirt that was painted with frosted blues and mint green fading into white. a necklace of pure diamonds rested just above your breast,  a matching crown woven into your tamed hair and a pair of earrings, your mother’s earrings to go with. as you sit still, letting the maids pretty you for the evening to come, you recall a time where you would have loved to be in a dress like this. times where your mother would only faintly dust your cheeks with blush whilst your father readied hoseok in the other room. tamarae was but a twinkle in your mother’s eye back then.
the girl in the mirror stares back at you, the trace of queen aadaya on her skin. closing your eyes, you take a deep breath to calm your aching heart and hum in agreement when the doors to your quarters open. tamarae beamed at you as her own maids helped her inside, she was a gown less bold than your own but equally pretty as fuchsia pinks spiralled soft lavenders. dresses like these were reserved for special occasions, to impress guests from outside castle walls, making a sick shiver crawl down your spine at the thought of elder dukes and lords and men vying for the attention of yourself and the young princess. 
of course,  the banquet for tonight was your father’s doing, in an attempt to find you a suitor right away. he claimed that you had failed to prove yourself in the last weeks, with no trace of the dragon’s heart in your possession. so with nothing but the grace of the queens before you, you accepted his invitation to host a banquet.
“you look beautiful, sister...you’ve grown so well,” you stand slowly, lifting your skirts to make your way over to the young princess. she bows her head in a small curtesy for you causing you to chuckle fondly. you allow your finger under her chin to tilt her head up, smiling softly at the girl, the spitting image of your mother. “now now, you are my sister, tamarae. formalities are not required for tonight, even if it is a special event,” you tease with a whisper in her ear, causing the younger to giggle slightly. “for you and i both know we shall be sneaking into the royal kitchen after the night is done!” 
tamarae tucks a white lock of hair behind her ear, giggling happily as her small hands clasp onto yours. “big sister, we both know hoseokie would have made me take watch if he were here,” she remarks in response  and pokes your nose, ignoring the glares of maids who had spent hours perfecting your look. 
as a young adult— becoming a queen, the ballroom was often a reminder of simpler days whereby warm summery breezes wafted through the large french windows, carrying soft scents of the fresh lemons and oranges that grew in the royal gardens. hoseok would have been chasing you down, playing the role of big bad dragon whilst you pulled a fumbling two year old tamarae behind you. your parents would always come running in to save the day, mother playing the knight that took hoseok down and your father the one who saved his two princesses. 
those were happier times, better times.
before you knew it, you were seated on the throne with the best view of the entire room. the ballroom had towering white pillars sprouting like flowers against a mahogany glossed wooden floor, the walls are splashed with an egg-shell blue with small cherry blossoms contrasting against the colour. accents of gold decorate every nook and cranny of the room and the ceiling paints a picture of fairytale creatures dancing amongst the man. men gallop across the hall with blushing ladies in their arm, those who aren’t dancing are stuffing their faces with the array of sweet treats and savoury delights that are positioned precisely against white sheet banquet tables. 
introductions pass without you paying any mind, distracted by thoughts of taehyung whisking you away to your clearing in the forest, playing with the many creatures there. you slip back to reality when a sudden pain spreads across your left rib, making you scowl at the culprit...tamarae. the younger smiles sheepishly and points to the man apparoaching your throne. 
his hair is a soft, candy pink, contrasting with the black blouse and dress pants he wore. when he bows to yourself and your sister, you catch a glimpse of his dark, misty brown eyes and find yourself curious to search them more. “he’s handsome,” tamarae teases you, moving to stand up as he steps forward. her gaze flickers up to your stoic face as she giggles. “don’t you think?” 
“he looks like he’s full of himself.” 
the man eyed you darkly while you held out your hand for him to take. “namjoon, kim namjoon...” his voice sends shivers down your spine, good or bad , you’re not sure. his skin is golden like honey and his tone drips with the same smoothness. “of the Kevimore kingdom.” 
namjoon gives you a dimples smile, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lush lips for a gentle kiss. tamarae giggles by your side as you watch the man through your lashes, humming in content. it was always nice to see a man bend his will for you. “you may address me, as princess YN of the Phantis Empire,” you say, equally as smoothly whilst you tilt your head to the side. namjoon straightens his posture, bowing in respect. “i do hope you enjoy your stay here, tonight.” 
with your final word, you turn your gaze to the crowd and watch as they twirl about in tune with the orchestra but smile when you catch the eye of your beloved advisor. you had not danced at a ball like this, since you were a child and back then, hoseok had always been your partner but he wasn’t here now, he was fighting a war that wasn’t his. your sister delivers a sharp elbow to your side, causing you to grunt as you ready to scold her into next year. “ahem,” she whispers, jabbing your side again and nodding her head in gesture to namjoon. “he’s still here.” 
“i’m aware,” 
“that means he requires your attention.” 
“attention that i do not have for a man, tamarae.”
“YN, he’s right there!” 
“and he can hear you...” namjoon interjects with a small chuckle, poking his tongue into his cheek while his lips form an amused smirk. he taps his ear while a light flush rises beneath the skin of your cheeks, much to the prince’s delight. 
you duck your head, imagining that the prince before you gets off at the thought of making you blush. “is there anything i can help you with, prince namjoon?” 
he nods once, pink locks falling into his eyes as his dimples smile appears once more. “a dance, with you? my queen?” 
blinking, your lips part in shock. the only person to ever acknowledge you as the soon to be queen was jungkook, and that was often a joke between the two of you. but for a split second, it seemed— that namjoon’s dark, stormy eyes saw past the extravagance and diamonds— and saw you. the queen you were meant to be. 
“she would love to,” you sister answers for you, pushing at your shoulder to force you to stand. you rise to your feet,  unsteady on them and almost toppling forward. namjoon quickly catches you by the arm, offering you an earth shattering smile with dazzling eyes as he chooses that moment to lead you onto the ballroom floor. following namjoon, you turn around and give your younger sister a faux frown, sticking your tongue out at her. the maids around you gasp at your behaviour, while tamarae giggles and mocks your face.
upon reaching the dance floor, namjoon skilfully pulls you into his arms, pressing his chest to yours to guide your steps into the waltz. “you’re light on your feet, are you sure you’re not a dancer?” he chuckles quietly into your ear, making goosebumps arise across the planes of your skin. 
you turn with him, taking the lead from his grasp and smile cheekily. “i’m trained to fight, being light on my feet is part of the battle.” but your grin quickly falls upon seeing jungkook turn away with disappointment, what was going on with him? 
“ah, i see.” the prince falls silent at your words, offering you a quiet noise of agreement as the pace of the music rises and you start to speed up your dance. 
namjoon is a handsome man, his terracotta lips seem warm and inviting, his eyes although dark make you want to lose yourself in him. the prince is tall, at least a head or so taller than you and his arms that hold you are firm and large. namjoon is attractive but...
but he is not taehyung. 
the pink haired prince dips you, face hovering over yours as he takes a moment to tuck a fallen hair behind your ear. your cheeks heat up at his proximity but you swallow down your nerves and stutter out. “n-namjoon...i,” 
“you’re beautiful, my queen,” he says simply, running a thumb over your bottom lips before he pulls you back into his chest. “what i wouldn’t give to have you ruling by my side.”
“e-excuse me?”
“you’d make an excellent wife, YN.” 
gobsmacked, you try to rip yourself away from namjoon but his grip on your waist is too tight and suddenly he no longer looks charming and gentle, a sinister stare taking over his features. “let me go, namjoon. by order of the princess i demand that you let me go!” you scoff at him through gritted teeth still struggling in his grip. “if you believe that flattery will get you my hand in marriage then you are severely mistaken, my prince. i am a queen born to rule without a man, and i shall do so, just fine.” 
namjoon tilts his head in a sympathetic fashion, pressing you closer to him. “oh but princess, we are already on the path to being wed,” he hums, his lips ghosting over yours as you squirm away from his touch. “by order of your father, i am set to marry you three weeks from now, since you failed to bring the head of the dragon prince.” 
“no that’s not, it can’t be...he wouldn’t...he wouldn’t do that,” you mumble, feeling panic rise in your chest and lodge itself in your throat. your perfect world suddenly shatters, your view for the future torn to shreds. your father had sold your soul away to namjoon, who you now saw as a man who yearned for power. “he can’t.”  
“then your father is not the man you believed him to be.” namjoon concludes. “now put on a pretty face and smile for our loyal subjects, my queen.”
you gasp with tears beginning to flood your field of view, your eyes searching in the crowd for someone, anyone to tell you it’s not true. who’s face falls at your wounded expression, he knows, you think. jungkook knew and he didn’t think to tell you. your heart shatters into a million pieces and all you can think is out out out. you need to get out. 
but for now you turn to namjoon and give him a dazzling smile through your tears, as jungkook watches you with a guilty gaze.
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running.
they say that running is able to clear your mind. but instead all of your thoughts and fears ran wildly beside you as you bolted through the forest. you could feel them, all of your worst nightmares crawling up your spine and scratching at your skin as you tumbled through the forest. 
by the time you reach the clearing, you’re clawing at your throat and desperately gasping for air through your choked sobs. you can’t marry namjoon, you won’t marry namjoon. your body trembles with the sobs that wrack your tiny frame, the dress that you wear is suddenly too tight and all you can do is wail for an escape. 
“YN! you have returned, i have to admit i missed you dearly-“ taehyung starts to ramble, just having come from a flight amongst the canopies. the dragon cuts himself off when he notices you collapsing onto your knees and tearing at the dress. “princess YN? YN, are you alright?” he drops to his knees beside you, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. the prince hates the way your chest is heaving, how a wild panic has spread through your darling eyes. “breathe for me princess, it’s alright, i’ve got you.” 
your eyes stay with his as taehyung coaches you through, his ice like irises calming you down as they watch you with concern. the dragon prince brushes a hand through your hair to soothe you as you hiccup and sniff, attempting to ease your panic. “off, i want it off, all of it...” you grumble moving to tear at your gown. taehyung follows your movements, using a  shifted dragon claw to shred off the remains of your skirt and help you out of the tight fitting corset until all that remains is your sheer and tule petticoat. 
“better?” your companion asks, pulling you into his silk shirt. taehyung is warm, much morse so compared to the cool evening, you remember him explaining that dragons have a heart of coal. meaning that the blood that flows through them is heated and molten. 
you nod shakily and move to hold his hand as a wave of comfort washes over you. “much, thank you taehyung.” 
“are you going to tell me what happened?” the prince presses gently, not wanting you to hold it in. if there was anything taehyung had learned about you in the last few weeks, is that you never had an outlet. you were closed off from the world, locked away and never let anyone see the vulnerable sides of you and yet...you somehow found it in you to trust him. 
nodding slowly, you turn and bury your face into his firm chest, fisting at the silk of his new azure blouse. “my father...” you sigh, letting your breath even out as you stumble to find the words. “he betrayed my trust...he turned the court against me and made them promise me to another man...” you feel taehyung’s breath hitch as his chest moves. quickly, you move to look up at taehyung and all you can think to do is kiss him but you can’t, not when you’re now promised to another. “i don’t love him, i could never be in love with someone so horrible.”
the now raven haired, dragon prince says nothing, instead choosing to squeeze you closer into his broad frame. he doesn’t look at you, mind racing a million miles an hour. you were to be married. and it wouldn’t be to him. so it is with a waking start that taehyung realises he is deeply, sorely in love with you. his chest rumbled at the thought of another man’s hands on you, kissing you and touching you, touching what was his. without meaning to, you place your hands on taehyung’s chest and grab at his attention. his usual ocean eyes flash with yellow and his primal senses are suddenly full of you. all he can see is your face under the light of the moon and stars, all he can feel is your touch on him and all he can smell is the sweet scent of lilies, of you. 
“tae...taehyung?” you whisper, sniffling as you lean up and tilt his head to look at you. “i will be alright, i refuse to let this stop me from seeing you.” 
he ignores your words, pulling you to stand with him. “lets go for a fly.” the prince says with bright eyes, staring at you.
“a fly? taehyung have you lost your mind-?” 
“it’ll be fun, i promise you. it’ll clear your head.” 
you slowly tear yourself from taehyung’s grip, holding your hand to your chest with a nervousness swirling in your stomach. flying. taehyung had told you that he was able to fully transform into a dragon, with all the same abilities as well. he called it shifting, and that meant he was able to breathe fire, roar like a mighty beast and fly. “i’m scared...” you admit, sheepishly. “what if...what if i fall?” 
“do you trust me?” taehyung asks sternly, stepping towards you and holding his hand out for you to take. 
“i...what?” 
“i said, do you trust me?” 
you hesitate before closing your eyes tightly and nodding, taking taehyung’s hand. “i trust you.” 
your eyes remain screwed shut as the crunch of bones fills the unoccupied silence of the woods. you flinch at the sound and the slip of taehyung’s hand from yours, whilst his heaves and groans become growls and roars. away from the warmth of taehyung’s body, you realise how cold the forest is in just your petticoat but you’re shivers are quickly ceased when a puff of hot hair surrounds you and a large head nudges your body. opening your eyes slowly, you gasp at the large beast before you, the taehyung that you know has been replaced with an oblivion black dragon, hints of silver and blue illuminating his scales under the shimmering night sky. the dragon presses it’s head to your hand, making you reach out hesitantly as you stare deep into its amber irises. 
‘do you trust me?’ 
you remember taehyung’s words as the majestic beast bows to you, you chuckle and watch as the dragon moves back, stretching out to spread its wings. you imagine that the wings themselves must be as wide as the west wing of your castle back home. when the dragon returns to his original position, you’re met with a puff of warm air, strong enough to blow locks of your hair away from your face. “impatient creature, aren’t you?” you giggle to yourself and clamber up onto taehyung’s head, making him shake it in response. 
with a deep breath, you hold on tightly to the spines feathering taehyung’s neck and close your eyes once more, listening to the sounds of his wings flap as he lifts you both off of the ground. the next time you open your eyes, you’re up in the air, soaring above the clouds. the pair of you are so high that the colour of the sky fades from a soft pink to the deep blue below, the beginnings of the sun shining in the distance. 
then taehyung makes a nose dive. 
the air rushes through your hair as you squeal, heading face first for the land beneath you. taehyung spirals his body as you throw your hands into the air, squealing loudly with happiness, you can feel every fear and doubt that clogged your mind and body rush away with the wind in your face. the dragon prince evens out his body, spreading his wings as you drift across the night sky, watching the world go by with you above it. you lean forward and rest the palms of your hands on taehyung’s, stroking it lightly as you fly past the stars.
when the clearing reappears in your field of view, taehyung tilts his body and begins the descent through the clouds. he flies low, letting you reach your hand out to touch the glistening water below. “w-woah, tae...taehyung!” you cry in amusement, feeling him shift beneath you, his bones realign as he grows tired and reverts back to his human form. his wings somehow manage to remain as the prince’s familiar face returns and he beams up at you. his wings encircle you as you make a crash landing into the clearing. the pair of you roll and tumble out onto the illuminated grass below you, taehyung’s wings protecting you and softening your fall. you manage to uncurl in his grip, landing beneath him as his palms flatten out by your head to stop himself from crushing you. 
“hi...” you pant, looking up at the dragon prince with glittering eyes. your hand reaches up to touch at taehyung’s soft face, his eyes still golden glowing irises and his curled hair now a faded black. he’s beautiful, he always has been but in this moment, you feel like you have finally see him. you can finally see that you love him.
taehyung looks down at you through hooded eyes, moving to run a thumb over your pinkish bottom lip, his breath uneven from the flight. “hello, my queen.” he says simply, face nearing yours. you feel your lashes against your cheeks as your eyes flutter shut, taehyung nosing your cheeks until his soft lips reach your own. hands in your hair, the prince tilts his head and kisses you. his lips mould perfectly against yours and you can feel your heartbeat wildly in your chest as your arms wrap around his neck and fingers curl in his wavy locks. taehyung kisses you like you’re his, and only his and all you want is to feel is him.
taehyung’s hands use a tentative touch as they slide down to your sides, slipping under your petticoat to smooth over your bare skin. you gasp as his lips venture out into the junction at your neck, curling your fingers in his hair as his hands push further and further up your clothes. he roams your skin like foreign terrain— fingers dipping at peaks and the curve of your body.  “taehyung...” you whimper breathlessly, pushing your head back into the lush grass below. 
the dragon freezes at the sound passing from your lips, moving to pull away. “are you hurt? did i hurt you?” taehyung asks worriedly, honey  eyes boring into your soul. you sit up, confused as you shake your head no, wondering if your eagerness to kiss him has driven him away. “i’ve never...i haven’t done this before...” the ravenette adds, gesturing between you both. never done...what? 
oh...
“been with a women before?” you ask gently, sitting up and leaning your chin on taehyung’s shoulder. you tilt your gaze towards him, smiling softly and move to cup his cheek. “i have never...been with a man either...you would be my first.” you whisper shyly, you had little time for courting as a princess, your royal duties taking up much of your time. but here you were, curled up with taehyung on possibly the most beautiful place on earth, feeling more ready than you had ever been.
“let me have you, if you will?” the prince asks lowly, warm breath fanning over your lips.
“you have me, all of me...” 
that was all it took for taehyung to crash his lips against yours once more, this time his tongue tracing over the seam of your own as he pleads for entrance to your mouth. you happily oblige, welcoming his warm tongue with your own in a battle for dominance, dancing together while his large hands pulled at your under clothes. you arched your back, letting him tug the tule garment off of you and spreading your thighs as he nudged them apart. 
“you’re so beautiful,” taehyung murmurs, pulling back from the kiss to admire you. his amber irises darkened to a dark gold as he drunk in your naked body, leaning down to ghost his lips over your neck. “i want to mark you...” he added, biting down on your supple flesh and sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. “fuck you, breed you. would you like that princess?” he growls. 
you arch your back as his hands come to cup your breast, squeezing them between slender fingers whilst he works a trail of purples down to your chest. “god, please...taehyung!” 
chuckling deeply, using his  dragon abilities, the prince blows a gust of hot air over your left nipple once his mouth reaches its destination. his snake like tongue pokes out to lick a stripe over the perky bud before he takes your breast into his mouth harshly, biting down and letting his primal instincts take over. even if he was a virgin, being a dragon, taehyung was genetically programmed to please during breeding seasons. he knew what he was doing, especially when you moaned aloud. 
a hand slips down your sides and into your panties, circling over your clit to spread your wetness as it glistened under the moonlight. “you’re soaking, my princess,” taehyung hums, still squeezing your breast as he sucked your nectar off of his fingers. “may i taste you?” 
“yes, please...” you gasp.
taehyung raises an unimpressed brow, pinching your nipple causing you to whine. “please what?”
eyes rolling, you moan out the only title you can think of, hoping it will urge the dragon on. “please...my king.”  
the prince with obsidian hair curses under his breath, making quick work of tearing off your panties and shuffling onto his belly on the grass so that he nears your entrance. taehyung spreads your lower lips widely, chuckling at the juices that flow from your flower. “so pretty, petal.” he says, watching you writhe under the night air before locking eyes with you through his curled locks. the air that hits your pulsing heat, is cool but taehyung’s breath is hothothot. his lush lips suckle on your clit before his burning tongue swipes over the length of your pussy, heated from his dragon’s core. taehyung sweeps at any of your sweet nectar that gushes from your hole, humming in content before pushing his tongue past your entrance making you cry from pleasure and curl your fingers in his hair. 
“look at you, absolutely dripping just for your king,” taehyung growls against your burning cunt, the vibrations sending your eyes rolling back in your head. desire burns brightly in the pits of your stomach, as you start to rut your hips into his face, the prince having neglected your wetness in favour of whispering foul words into your thighs. taehyung flicks at your swollen clit, making your legs wobble and threaten to close around his head. not that you would mind the view. “such beautiful sight, baby.” 
he dove his tongue into your tight hole, as arousal fogged your senses and his instincts to your body heightened. the world between your sweet thighs was slick, tasting of the most luxurious of treats to taehyung and he could tell he was becoming addicted to you. a finger slipped past your entrance, along with his tongue, thrusting inside of you and catching on the walls of your pussy. you wriggled against the grass, spread out in the open nature whilst taehyung claimed you with his tongue. “m close, m close!” you squealed when taehyung added another finger, fearing that your high was coming to soon. the prince was giving you pleasure that you had never felt before, that couldn’t be achieved with your own hand or imagination. you weren’t sure that you wanted it to end.
nimble fingers gripped at taehyung’s mop of sooty hair as he lapped faster and faster at your sensitive bud, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter until suddenly...it snapped. “cum for me, princess, reward your king.” 
white flashes behind your eyes as your release crashes over you, signs of your arousal painting taehyung’s chin and face. he licks over his bottom lip, chest rumbling at the taste of you before he moves between your thighs to and up to your face. he kisses you sweetly, once...twice... allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before deepening the kiss. the pair of you become a pile of limbs, entangled in the grass as teeth and tongue clash together. your hands wind down the path way of the prince’s body, stopping above his belt loop hesitantly. 
taehyung forces himself to pull away from your onslaught of kisses, pressing his forehead to yours— eyes closing with a pant falling from his lips. “you don’t have to...” he mumbles, lips ghosting over yours while he noses your cheek.
 taehyung’s hair brushes softly over your forehand, his eyes tightly shut away from the world as if, when he sees you again, he won’t be able to control himself. you stare up at him, taking in his every mole and freckle that dots his face. you trust him. “i want to, please— let me, my liege.” you insisted, a neediness sparking in your eyes.
“fuck...the things you do to me, princess,” hisses hotly, his cock twitching in his briefs as you rolled him over. the dragon prince quickly stood, helping position you comfortably on your knees before letting his hands fly to the buckle of his breeches. watching him closely, you felt your mouth water in anticipation— you’d never in your life seen a man in full glory before, let alone a mythical creature such as taehyung. you suspected him to be girthy, but your expectations were exceed as he proceeded to roll down his breeches and undergarments in one. 
taehyung’s cock was not only thick and girthy, but lengthy as well, so big that for a brief second, you were unsure that your own two hands would fit around it, let alone your mouth. your jaw dropped in awe as your eyes observe him. “well...uh, there’s something about us dragon’s that.... that perhaps i failed to mention-“ taehyung but his lip with nervousness, his confident and dominant aura suddenly wavering. 
“you have two heads-“ you blurt out, gaze trained on the second head of his forked member. “there’s two!” 
the prince blushes, running a hand through his curled hair and swallowing thickly. “for mating purposes, it increases the success of a female carrying...” taehyung pauses is breathe explanation, frowning deeply as you touch curiously at his cock. “—carrying offspring, princess.” 
the pet name comes out as some what of a warning, making you smile sheepishly at the man above you. “it’s got spines, taehyung...you cant expect me not to touch you!” you defend yourself,  watching him closely. “it’s hot too.” 
“for pleasure purposes, dragons are also naturally hot.” 
“do you think it will fit? i’ve not been with a man before i-“
seemingly sensing the nerves that stir in your stomach, taehyung leans down to grip your chin and tilts your head upwards to catch your eye. “i’ve got you, petal,” he whispers and presses a light chaste kiss to your lips. “do you trust me?” 
“yes, more than anything.” you breathe, settling back onto your knees as taehyung guides your mouth towards his pulsing cock. your eyes trail up his body as he tugs off his shirt from above you, his skin is glazed with a layer of sweat and desire pours through your system like the molten lava that intertwines with his dragon blood. you imagine that he tastes sweet, like the finest wines of the Ubeozia dynasties. 
leaning forward you shakily take taehyung’s tips past your lips, sucking on it hesitantly while he starts to groan. the dragon sucks in a breath from the night air as you take him further into your mouth, looking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “you’re doing so well, my darling  princess, so good for me.” he sighs.
his cock his hot against your tongue, forming tingling sensation at your lips while you work on bobbing your head. curses fall out from underneath taehyung’s breathy moans whilst his eyes flash golden like Apollo’s sun. his large hands thread between your loosened locks as they tickle at your exposed shoulders, encouraging you to give him more. 
your hands sit small on the base of his girth, fisting at what you cannot fit making a wetness pool between the apex of your thighs as you think about being stuffed full of him. taehyung lets out a small moan, closing his eyes and throwing his head back to face the stars as he shallowly thrusts his length into your welcoming mouth. your tongue works circles around his cock making taehyung’s fingers curl in your hair, massaging your scalp as he gently pushes your hot mouth further down on his pulsing, red hot cock. 
he hisses and grunts when you’re tongue glides over his slit, abdomen clenching as he feels himself fall into his high. you gasp as the dragon paints your tongue with a smokey release, his cum is a foreign feel against your tongue but brings you satisfaction as he quivers through the after shocks of his orgasm. softly, you let go of his member, sliding your tongue over your bottom lip to capture the rest of his cum— keeping your eyes trained on him. 
“how does it taste?” taehyung asks darkly, sinking into his knees to cup your face.
you hum for a moment, parting your lips gently as his thumb brushes over them. “salty, no...ashy.” you conclude, breathing lightly. taehyung quirks a brow, leaning forward to press a searing kiss to your lips, his tongue swipes over your bottom one as he gradually pushes you back into the lush grass, positioning himself between your legs.
“that’s because our release is fuelled by the fires that burn in our hearts,” the prince explains, pulling away from your lips to whisper in your ear. now that you’ve tasted me, it’s time i mark your beautiful little cunt.” 
you gasp as the tips of his thick cock brush as your entrance, instinctively locking your thighs around his hips. your chest rises and falls with the anticipation of having taehyung, the man you love, claim you. you’re in love, you love taehyung with all your heart and now he was to make you his. sighs of adoration fill the air between you as taehyung slowly pushes into your virgin hole, of course, having more than one tip would make it hurt, but only just— making your nails dig into the skin at taehyung’s shoulder. 
he stops is movements, the prince knows that it will be difficult for your tiny human body to handle his stamina and size, after all, you had already cum once and were nearing exhaustion. “i’m sorry, my petal...my queen, i know it hurts,” he cooes, nosing at your neck to ease the pain. one hand curls in taehyung’s thick locks as he fully enters you with one tip of his cock, the second slowly slipping past the lips of your cunt. the dragon prince drops a hand to your clit, slowly rubbing in circles until the pleasure overrides the sting where you bleed. “you’re doing so well for me, taking all of my cock like the good queen you are.” 
taehyung waits for you to adjust as he continues to lazily flick at your bud, while you slowly start to open up for him like the roses at his mother’s place. “please...move taehyungie...move!” you mewl, throwing your head back into the soft grass as pleasure begins to overwhelm your senses.
the prince smiles down at you, taking in the the twisted look of delight against your delicate features and the curve of your breast as you arch your back. taehyung bottoms out inside of you, gently thrusting his length within your tight, dripping walls and closes his eyes at the sound of your sweet moans. you feel like you were made just for him, for him only and when he opens his eyes, he can’t help but lean down and claim your mouth, slipping his tongue past the barriers of your lips when you part them. 
“look at you, princess, so tight for me— your king,” he praises tenderly against your hips, dropping his face to your neck as you tighten around him involuntarily. “you’re mine, made for me and my cock. you got that princess?” 
“yours, yours my king.” you pant, fingertips dancing across the expanse of your lover’s freckled back.
taehyung deepens his thrusts, the spines on his cock catching against your slick walls as he reaches deeper inside of you. he sucks a little of bruises into your neck, purples, pinks and burgundies painting a picture of his love for you while he works their. your hips lift to match his thrusts, sucking him in as you both move together under the moonlight. the sounds of love filled moans and groans fills the cool air of the forest, long forgotten as taehyung pounds into you, letting you feel every inch of his cock. his grunts send shivers down your spine, making you arch your back into him. taehyung pushes your hips down, pushing his member into your sweet spot causing more of your juicies to gush down your wobbling thighs. 
you bite your lip in an attempt to silence your cries, an unexplainable wave of pleasure coursing through your veins as taehyung yanks your hips down to his. “s’good…please don’ stop,” you slur pathetically into the night, a sheen of sweat dousing your skin, the sound of your desperation making the head’s taehyung’s length twitch inside of you. he wasn’t sure how long he would last, with the way your virgin cunt clamped down on him like a vice. the tightness was almost unbearable, each thrust bringing him closer and closer to the edge. “need you, need you m-my king!” 
taehyung’s mop of hair drops to your collar bones as he bites on them to silence his growls of possession. “fuck me, princess, fuck,” he slurs, his cock swelling as if he’s about to burst. the first head of his member stimulating that special spot, while the other fills your needy hole. “wonder what your courts would say if they saw you like this, princess,” taehyung pants into your neck, one hand sliding between your bodies to stimulate your clit while the other grips your breast, as he leans against you, pressing his hips into yours. “saw their queen spread out for the dragon king so desperate and needy for his dragon cock...fuck baby, what would they say?” 
“t-they’d be ... ashamed!” you squeal, arching your back and lifting your hips to meet taehyung’s thrusts. 
he smirks, fucking into you harder, until you’re full to the brim and you can feel him deep in your womb. “but i wouldn’t be, m’ so proud of my princess for taking me like this...” taehyung pants, looking deep into your eyes, sweaty hair falling over his own amber irises. “cum with me, my love.” 
you grab and pull at taehyung, touching at skin hair and lips as your release starts to creep up on you. the pace of taehyung’s hips never slow but start to become sloppy as your senses become overwhelmed with him. the tips of his cock brush at your spot once more, making you scream with pleasure as the damn finally bursts and you cream on his member, painting him with your release as the first spirts of his cum fill your hole. “taehyung, tae..please,” you cry, soft tears springing in your eyes as he locks his gaze on yours, hips slowing to a grind as he pumps his thick, hot seed inside of you. there’s so much, never ending as his release gathers within your cunt, searingly hot as lewd sounds of your wetness’ mixing fills the air. “i love you...”
your words are barely above a whisper, tears of warmth and happiness spilling from your eyes as taehyung cups your cheeks and swoops down to kiss you lovingly. “i love you so much, more than anything.” he responds, never ending his onslaught of kisses. 
taehyung doesn’t soften inside you, making another wave of neediness wash over your body. he loved you, he loved you just as you did with him. the kisses become sweeter and sweeter, like the finest honey against your tongue and you smile against taehyung’s lips as he lifts you into his arms. “you love me.” it’s more of a statement than a question, but taehyung answers regardless, brushing strands of hair away from your face.
“i will always love you, beyond my dying breath.” 
the dragon scoops you up, carrying you to a nearby tree and leaning back against it, refusing to put you down despite your giggles and protests. you notice, from over his shoulder that moon lillies grow in place of the spot you made love in. “what’s that?” you ask quietly, as taehyung sits, turning you around gently in his lap and barely lifting you from his cock. 
he watches darkly as only small traces of his charcoal black cum seep from your cunt before he follows your gaze to the flowers. “those, moon lillies appear when a dragon has found his or her mate, in place of where they have mates for the first time.” he mumbles shyly, hiding his face in your neck and kissing the back of your shoulder. 
“let’s... let’s make more,” you whisper and admire the flowers that act as a symbol of your love. although your thighs still shake from your last two releases, you pull your hips forward and drag them back against taehyung’s lap, twitching around his length from the overstimulation. your turn your head to face the dragon prince from over your shoulder, watching as his chest heaves with pleasure. “make love to me, dragon king. make love to your queen.” 
taehyung’s hips twitch at your words, the ghost of his fingertips settling on your hips  before gripping them harshly, helping to move you back and forth against his cock. “as you wish my queen,” he mumbles, starting to move his own hips in time with yours. “you’re going to be the death of me, love.” 
taehyung bites down harshly on your shoulder as you begin to mewl, lifting yourself off of your cock and slamming your hips back down. the spines on taehyung’s cock stimulate your spasming, cum soaked walls, catching on each ridge and causing you to shiver. the forest is once more filled with the sound of skin slapping on skin, and a mixture of lost words and moans and ‘i love you’s. you are lost with taehyung, in a world of your own as he claims your cunt over and over again with each thrust. 
you circle your hips, clenching around the thick cock that stretches you open and gasp when one of taehyung’s heads slip out from your tight core. biting your lip, you take a finger and coat it in the remainder of your last orgasms and smear it against taehyung’s tip, thumbing it hardly. the prince groans, hips stuttering as he lets out a loud moan, thrusting into you at a faster pace and circling himself inside of you. “princess, please...fuck me.” 
“forever, my sweet.” you whisper, slapping the head against your cock before pushing it back into your entrance. you rock yourself back and forth, tears of pleasure stinging the corners of your eyes as your sensitive pussy pulses with want. you know, you will not last as long as the previous rounds, indicated by your throbbing clit and collapse forward against taehyung’s legs. the dragon takes this as an opportunity to slap his palm against your bare ass, watching the flesh jiggle at the contact. 
you squeal at the spank, sinking your fingers into the grass as taehyung repeats his ministrations on each of your cheeks. his cock swells with every desperate moan that passes from your lips, stretching your tight cunt open to accommodate for his cum. he wants to breed you, fuck you full of all of his dragon seed and watch your stomach swell at the heavy load. he wants you to have his children. with new found motivation and his orgasm closing in on him, taehyung grabs your hips and forces them down against his cock, slamming into you every time you come down against him. your abused hole drips with newfound wetness and remainders of taehyung’s hot seed as he pushes it further inside of you. 
the pace is wild, and heat flares up between you both as your bodies move together completely uncontrolled. “m gonna cum again...” you gasp as you feel taehyung pound repeatedly into your g-spot. “please, please fill me up.” 
“gonna cum with you princess, gonna breed you with my dragon pups,” taehyung practically whimpers, mumbling an i love you into the air. “gonna fill you up and fuck my cum deep inside you.” he rambles now as his thrusts become erratic. having his length nuzzled inside of you is what pushes taehyung over the edge, beating the feeling of endless hours of pleasuring himself during breeding seasons. he had never held or touched a woman in the way that he did with you. you were his first, and that was what made his heads fill you once more with a heavy load of his seed, shooting further into your cunt as you cream against him once more, pushing your hips down while his cum smears against your clit. “
“taehyungie!” 
you collapse against the grass, panting shakily as taehyung pulls you into his arms again, turning to lay on his side as he pulls you into his chest. he doesn’t remove himself from your body, keeping himself inside you as more of the glowing blue flowers begin to bloom around you. taehyung’s hand settles on your belly as his arms wrap around your waist, rubbing it in circles while he kisses your hair. everything is perfect, just as it is meant to be. you’re in love with the man you had dared yourself to kill, but could now only find it in you to lay with him under the stars. 
“i love you taehyung,” you say for the millionth time that night, drawing patterns into the hand that rests on your stomach. “i won’t ever love anyone else. i am yours and you are mine.” 
“we are one, YN.” taehyung adds, sweetly, holding you closer as you feel yourself start to drift into a sweet slumber. “and i will love you forever.” 
forever. 
you smile at the word, placing his hand over his as you finally fall into sleep. you stay with taehyung, in forest for a night or two, loving each other under the moon.
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“and you will see to it that the dragon is captured and killed, immediately?” 
jungkook hesitates, a pause in the air at the prince’s request. when namjoon and the king had asked the young advisor to follow his queen out into the woods, he had never expected to see what he did. the nights where you would disappear for hours on end, coming home with scorch marks and ruffled hair all seemed to make sense now. you were with the dragon prince, the one who’s heart you had promised to capture. except, only you could not do it, you had been soft in the heart. a trait that lay with your deceased mother. 
jungkook had seen you take round after round of the dragon’s cock, wishing that he could be in place of the beastly creature. he hated how that thing claimed you like he had been trying to for years, he despised how he fisted himself to orgasm behind the trees as he watched you cum for the dragon, moan for the dragon, love for the dragon. jungkook hated himself for betraying you due to his own jealousy, he wanted to see the dragon pay for what it had done to his queen, his love. and although, the advisor was unsure of what namjoon planned to do with the information, jungkook knew the least he could do was set you back on the right path. 
he had already owed you this debt, in where he failed to warn you about namjoon. perhaps, he would make it up to you by freeing you from the dragon’s grip. 
“jungkook...”
“yes my liege, we will send our best troops to their location and have him captured within the next week or so...” the boy explains, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles nervously. why does guilt rein free in his mind? he was doing what was best for you. 
prince namjoon nods proudly, nodding his head and standing from his seat to leave the dining room. the prince had moved into the palace due to your absence over the last three days, presumably to take over rule as your father was too sick to do so. namjoon was brought in to have you wed before your father’s passing but the courts knew you were more than capable of doing so on your own. 
they just hated to see a women in power.
“you are dismissed, jungkook.” 
the young advisor nods his head gratefully, running a hand through his wavy locks and massaging his scalp to calm his guilt ridden mind. “what the fuck, jeon?” he mumbles to himself, starting walk back his quarters. he needed to be a lone, he needed time to convince himself that what he had done was right. jungkook could pretend that everything would be fine and maybe it would be. 
he paces down the twisting and winding halls of the castle, chest squeezing as he begins to feel trapped within the walls and lies. jungkook doesn’t even hear the call of his name. 
“jeongguk!” tamarae gasps, catching up to the young advisor. the boy freezes, the princess much resembled the queen before YN, her features her sloping and graceful and you could see shift in her eye colour of the light hit them just right. everyone had been in awe of tamarae since she was born, but she was no YN. he looks down at the girl, just a year younger than jungkook himself, and parts his lips to speak. they were aquatinted well, but never spoke more than a passing hello when YN was around. 
but he never gets a chance to speak. 
the princess’ hand falls sharply against his cheek, the connection is enough to send his head to the side. it is now, for the first time, that jungkook really looks at the young princess. her snow white hair is dishevelled and slightly out of place, dark eye bags beneath her usually glowing eyes and her skin has paled significantly. “how dare you?” tamarae seethes, stepping closer to jungkook and pointing a finger in his face. he flops guiltily, his actions coming to haunt him. “how dare you, give my sister’s location to that treacherous prince?”
“i’m doing what is in the best interest of our queen.” 
tamarae opens her mouth in shock, casting a glance up and down jungkook’s frame before taking a breath to calm herself. “what would you know about her best interests?” she begins, now poking a thumb into the firm of the advisor’s chest. “she is happy there, out in the woods in her clearing. he makes her happy.” a breath, “— but you’re so foolishly and selfishly in love with her, you would do anything to make her love you back. well, jeon jungkook...now she will never.” 
“tamarae, i—“
“and you slept with me, i let you wrestle me to bed in your quarters and make a woman of me,”  the princess starts to feel tears form in her eyes, breath becoming shaky and anger rising within her chest. “just so...so you could find where she is. i didn’t tell you, for you to hurt her. i told you because you’re her best friend...” 
jungkook is left, trembling with guilt as the princess turns away and heads back in the direction she came. 
he was desperately in love with you, but was too blind to see the love he was given too.
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the feeling beneath taehyung’s skin is nothing like he has ever felt before. it’s a bristling pain that jabs at his flesh, pinches at his every fibre and burning away at his heart. 
it hurts, it pains him and he doesn’t know why. 
the servants strip him of his shirt, sweat licking his honey dipped abs as they douse him with cold spurts of water but nothing helps and the pain doesn’t cease. one places a stick between his teeth for him to clamp down on as they rub at his skin, trying to massage the pain away. instead the supposed, soothing feeling is replaced by a thousand small stabs to his flesh, almost to the point where tears pool in his ocean eyes. 
the double doors to his bedroom open suddenly, Queen elantris making an entrance as maids and servants alike withdraw from the heaving prince. his stares over at his mother as she dismisses all other personnel in the room, dropping his head back into his tangled sheets while he pants, eyes falling shut. 
“mother...”
“shh, my boy, you are in a lot of pain,” elantris hums quietly, brushing her son’s curled charcoal locks from his paling face.  the prince whines like a young dragon pup, the hurt becoming too much to bare. elantris looks down at her child, seizing the moment to rub a cooling herb mix against his chest, despite the growls and roars that emit from taehyung’s lips. she coos at him gently, once she’s done, whispering sweet words into his hair as he shivers in a cold sweat. the dragon queen had seen this once before, never as severe. her child was sick with a deep poison, known as love. 
“what’s happening to me?”
the tone of fear rings in taehyung’s voice as he roars, scales reappearing across his skin and eyes darkening into their golden state. his mother leans down and noses taehyung’s cheek, trying to ease him through the pain and coaches him through it despite the groans he lets out.
“you’ve imprinted, my love,” elantris whispers, linking their hands. “you’re in love, taehyung, with that human girl.” 
the boy gasps through his pain, feeling like a pup being caught stealing from the kitchen like when he was young. taehyung had known that he had always felt strongly towards you, felt strongly for the way your eyes sparkled under the moon and the way your smile shone brightly whenever the dragon had a new trick to show you. taehyung had known, all along, that he was in love with you. “how, how did you know?”
“i could smell her on you, taehyung,” elantris chuckles and releases her child’s hand, helping him to sit. “i may be old but i am not a fool. you have learned to forgive, unlike those of our ancestors. you must go to her, the girl and the closer you are to her, the less pain you will be in.” she hums. “you just go to her.” 
the prince stretches his limbs, a cool slick sliding over his skin. “i will, i love her.” 
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the clearing.
when you thought of the clearing, you thought of happiness and love. your love, with taehyung that bloomed solely under the night of the stars but another that grew strongly inside of you. the news you had for taehyung sent a series of fire works bursting in your chest, coursing through your veins— this could be it, could be what could end all the suffering and consequences, letting yourself and your prince be together. 
the familiar sent of sweet moon lily fills your nostrils, easing your nerves as you approach the clearing, your love. the sky is clear above your head, milky pink like the roses your mother used to weave into your hair. you like to believe, that she would be excited for you, looking down at you from the constellations above with joy.  this was not always your plan, but you would not let this get in your way of becoming queen. 
you take care with your steps, unlike times before this, wearing your traditional warrior fit makes the journey easier.  you want to be careful and prevent any harm to what is to come — but suddenly, the air around you feels different, thick with smoke and heavy with  an eerie vibe. something is off, something is wrong. 
peeking through the leaves you spot several men, heavily armed with swords and arrows, in a uniform you do not recognise. upon closer inspection— you notice the emblem on the crest of a soldier from your kingdom . these are your people, men from your army. 
in your clearing. 
rushing forward, you burst from the trees and slap a hand over your mouth at the site. the dragon prince, fully shifted into his beautiful dragon transformation is hooked to the ground with thick metal chains that rub at his skin. taehyung roars, in pain, in fear, you cannot tell and panic begins to rise in your chest, clawing at your throat and tearing at your insides. 
they had found him.
the beast sniffs the air once, twice, the bones in his back cracking as he fights to stand—pulling the men that held him back, off of the ground. yellowed eyes tilt towards you, barely hidden in your precious spot as the prince tries to rip free and expose you. he could sense your presence, your emotions and desperately needed to be with you, he needed you to know about the imprint. 
but before taehyung can reach you, a guard calls and has you on your knees in a second, many others spearing your lover to get him under control. tears sting in your eyes as the first drops of his blood hit the pure grass beneath your knees, where you had made love for the first time, where you were supposed to be safe. 
“taehyung!” you scream, attempting to rip yourself away from the men, your men... that hold you down. it’s almost as if you can feel every pierce of taehyung’s flesh as he roars out for you. yanking your arm free, you attempt to stand, but your pathway is blocked by a pair of black boots and a talk slender figure.  your wobbling lip turns to a sneer, gaze darkening as you look to him. “you...”
namjoon smirks, kneeling down to your height as your own men hold you down. “hello, my queen,” he hums, eyeing your sweat streaked face and angry expression. the man lifts your chin with his forefinger, tilting your head to look up at you. taehyung’s chest rumbles possessively as the latter male’s hands slip to clip your jaw tightly. “you seem to be right on time, love. you’re about to witness the true harvesting of a dragon heart.” 
a flare of outrage ignites in your chest as you lunge forward, biting at namjoon’s finger so hard that you draw blood, while vexed tears cloud your vision. the pink haired prince pulls back, holding his hand tightly in pain. “unhand me.” you breathe heavily, staring up at the men beside you, holding you down and betraying you. “unhand me by order of your princess.” you muster up a stern expression, although your lip wobbles and your eyes water as the pain of your lover courses through your veins. you had not known it was possible to feel so connected, so in tune with someone before. but you understood now, that this was love. love was not your mother and father arguing during nights, where hoseok would cover yourself and your sister’s ears, love was not tolerating and suppressing your bitter hatred for your father. love was not war. love was taehyung. 
the men look to namjoon for guidance as you thrash within their grip, he simply shakes out his wounded hand and stalking towards you, before landing a harsh slap across your face. your head whips to the side, your chest heaving in shock while your lover growls in the distance.  
“i’m afraid they cannot do that your highness,” namjoon spits, pushing you down into the soil. you clutch at your stomach protectively, glowering at the prince. “you father has handed all authority over to me, after your absence for the last two nights. the court has ruled you, unfit to rule until we marry.” 
the prince then turns to the dragon, signalling for his minions to tighten the chains around taehyung. “and he shall be executed in consequence of your action. for imprinting on our queen, like the filthy creature he is.” 
it feels like your world is collapsing, and you are falling underneath the surface. but you cannot give in, you cannot give namjoon the satisfaction of your favour without a fight. you cannot lose taehyung. you close your eyes and swallow thickly, remembering what your mother had instilled in you. every battle has a way to be won. 
“unhand me,” you repeat, steadying your breath. “and i will go with you willingly.” namjoon only chuckles deeply, shaking his head so you take action. ripping yourself from the men behind you, you kick your leg out and take the men down by swipe their feet out from underneath them. elbowing a soldier in the nose and snatching your sword from its sheath, burying it in the chests of two traitors. rolling your shoulders back, you kick down two more men and stay light on your toes. 
you aim for the prince next. 
taking a running sprint, you thrust your sword towards him, barely slicing his cheek as you pant heavily. “release the dragon, and i will spare you,” you seethe through gritted teeth, watching your wounded lover from over namjoon’s shoulder. “don’t be a foolish man, my prince.” you mock, venomously.
“i see that carrying a child has softened your mindset, princess YN,” namjoon comments softly, pushing the blade away from his throat. how could he know? who could have told him? your confident demeanour falters slightly, but you do not allow yourself to slip, holding up your blade again. “the castle maids talk, you show early signs. disgraceful, how you are willing to bare the child of the beast that killed your mother—“ the prince remains cool and collected whilst your resolve starts to crumble, he wins. taehyung wails for you in the background, weakening as you begin to shake. “you will marry me, tomorrow at sunset if you wish for child to be speared. i feel no remorse for ending two lives tonight.” 
the world around you begins to spin lightly, taehyung calling for you to stay strong. namjoon had won, he had you exactly where he wanted you, and there was nothing more you could do. “very well,” you whisper, dropping your gaze along with your mothers sword. “we shall be wed.”
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you had never been to a wedding, if you had, you may have been too young to remember. sometimes, if you were lucky enough to hear, your mother would tell you of her own, her white dress and wolf furs, her pearl crown imported from across the sea. when she explained to you, brushing your hair and tying it neatly before bed, she had never smiled, never grinned at the thought of a royal feast. her face had always been void. 
you now, realise why. 
today you would marry, to a man you bared no feelings for. today you would marry out of duty and out of the love you had for someone else. you realise, being older and less naive, that your mother, the queen— married your father as a debt to her kingdom. 
“you look beautiful, YN...” your sister offered, taking over for the maid in weaving flowers into your hair. orchids. the national flower of namjoon’s kingdom. the smell was too sweet, sickly to the point where you felt you would heave. they were everywhere, in your hair and your bouquet, in gifts given by royals from other kingdoms— you hated it. a constant reminder of what you had to lose. tamarae notes your silence, stopping her hands that move to fix hair that has already been tucked into place. “please, say something...”
you blink twice in response, parting your lips as if the words will come on their own — but you’re hollow inside, a ghost of who you once were. there were no more tears to cry, or screams to let out. all of those had passed in the cold night, when your sister held you as you cried because your child would grow without the father they needed. because you were going to lose your love. tamarae sinks to her knees before you, creasing the sweet powder blue dress that she wore. her hand take yours, squeezing it gently as if to remind you that you’re still a person, you still feel. 
“you don’t have to do this,” she whispers hoarsely, white hair falling over her face to shield her from the world. her bottom lip trembles as tears slip down her cheeks— she had lost her mother, her brother and now her sister. what more could she lose? “you don’t have to...”
for the first time in hours, you make a movement...your face twitches into a sad smile as you cup your sister’s cheeks and hold her close. tamarae’s face finds the tule of your wedding dress, trying her best not to stain the expensive fabric imported from namjoon’s kingdom, not that you cared much for it. “i have to, for you and for the people. our people. they have lost faith in me, and they need me—“ you swallow sharply, no more tears. “they need me to show them i care for our people, i care for this war...”
“i don’t want to lose you...”
“you won’t.”
the door bursts open, yourself and your sister jumping apart at the sudden entrance. jungkook inhales deeply, eyes flickering between the two princesses before tamarae scoffs and parts ways with you but not before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
she shoves past the boy, maids flurrying after her, leaving yourself and the advisor alone. he is the first to speak. “YN, my queen, you’re stunning-“ 
“no,” you interject, looking up at your old friend, coldly. “don’t speak. you don’t get to speak today or i’ll have you executed for treason.” you punctuate your every word, begging yourself to keep it together because if you cry now, jungkook will be the only one to comfort you. your best friend, the man who betrayed you, silences himself, before it’s too late. “you don’t get to say a word, not after what you did to me. not after betraying my trust.” 
“YN, i-“ 
“please,” you hiccup this time, the air in your lungs being sucked away from you with every passing second. jungkook is here to walk you down the isle, towards the man that will only abuse his power of you and your people. jungkook is the reason you are walking this path. “please don’t say anymore. have you not said enough? given away my secrets, out of love you say?” jungkook falters, every fibre in his being screaming out at him to comfort you, but his love for you did this, he destroyed the strong girl he once knew. “then your love is truly misplaced- i have loved you, jeongguk...but only ever as a friend. you used that against my sister, which i truly cannot forgive. so please do not say anymore than you must, for your words only ever hurt us.” 
jungkook bites his lip and nods, offering his arm to you to lead you down to the ceremony. he watches you with sad eyes, but a kind smile, sighing heavily when you return his with a watery one. 
if he had not loved you, this would not have happened. if he had not loved you, he would still have his friend.
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the sun is coloured a shade of honey, ribbons of its light casting a warm hue against your skin. sunsets like this are rare, beautiful and not to be taken for granted— they remind you of sweet days with taehyung, his curled hair buried in your neck and his soft giggle filling the air. sunsets reminded you of your love for taehyung.
you watch the sun dip it’s toes into the navy blue of the water, just behind the prince’s head at the end of the isle. namjoon had wanted a wedding by the sea, with enough room for all of your people along with visitors from kingdoms far away. he wanted sea air and a fresh breeze, he wanted open waters, clear enough to see the dye of taehyung’s blood when he executed the dragon prince after the ceremony. he wanted it all, and you wanted to escape. your stomach twists and turns, as the orchestra begin to strum a wedding tune. this isle was not a path to happiness, but one to your death. 
to the people of your kingdom, saw you as a beautiful bride but you saw yourself as a ghost of a human being. jungkook holds you by the arm, steadying your steps as he walks you towards your doom, your own funeral. your own father couldn’t even give you away, too drunk to even stand. you scowl at him as you pass his pew, accompanied by your sweet sister. 
if you had it your way, it would be taehyung at the end of the isle, dressed in his kingdom’s traditional fits as he gave you that toothy grin. his eyes would light up as your brother gave you away, and your mother’s light shined on you from above. taehyung would take your hand firmly in his, slip on the ring and tell you how much he loved you. the dress that you wore would be off at the end of the night, as you made love to one another. but now, here you were, reaching the dreaded prince namjoon, as he smirked at you greasily. 
jungkook gave you a tight, apologetic squeeze before handing you over to namjoon, shielding his face once he joined the rest of the crowd. your gaze slowly shifts to namjoon, hating the way he looked at you, when the ground beneath your feet starts to shake and you hear the pained cry of your love. “taehyung...” you whisper, standing on your tip toes to find him. over the shoulder of the prince, you spot the dragon shivering from pain behind the alter. 
he spasms in his chains, wrists red and sore whilst purple bruises litter his tanned honey skin. he whimpers our for you, causing tears to well in your eyes. all you can do is watch helplessly as the dragon steadies his laboured breathing. small tears slip down your cheeks, streaming through the layers of make up that you wore— the pink haired prince lowers his lips to your ear level. “take a good look, my princess, for this will be the last chance you will ever get.” the prince chuckles, pouting at you mockingly. 
with watery eyes, you glance back at the dragon prince, watching as he falls weak at namjoon’s proximity to his imprint. the injuries taehyung sustained over the time had weakened his dragon transformation, the scales that patched his skin were becoming dull as he bled from wounds here and there. the only way for him to heal would be to be near you again. 
sucking in a deep breath, you blink away the oncoming tears and replace them with a bright smile. smile for the people, smile for your family. “of course, my king,” you say with wobbling words. be strong, you chant. 
the ceremony begins with namjoon’s consent, rushing by with your mind focused on your lover. he’s hurting, in pain and all you want to do his hold him, ease him through it all. you cannot focus, sick to the stomach of what is to come, will you live out the same fate as your mother?  bare beautiful children from the seed of a hateful man. will he ruin your kingdom? what your mother had worked hard to build? this couldn’t be your legacy. 
“and do you, princess YN LN of the  Phantis empire, take prince namjoon of the Kevimore kingdom— to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health...as long as you both shall live?” the minister’s words fly over your head, your mouth suddenly feeling dry and the air in your lungs no longer present. 
namjoon leans down to whisper into your ear, warningly. “YN...” 
“i-“ you hesitate, saying yes would mean taehyung would be executed sooner and you couldn’t bare to lose the only love you’ve ever had. namjoon’s arms snake around your waist, pulling you into him, causing taehyung to fall to his knees behind your shoulder, ocean eyes full of tears. he can’t lose his soulmate, not now, not ever. “i’m...”
the words formulate on your lips, the pressure weighing down on your shoulders. 
“stop the wedding!” 
you clutch at your chest, relief flooding through you as the crowd turns their attention to the oncoming voice. an armoured soldier and his men, enter the ceremony eliciting gasps and stares of the congregation, you take the opportunity to slip from namjoon’s slimy grip, while they create a distraction. 
“who do you think you are?” namjoon scowls, stepping forward and pointing an accusing finger at the intruder. “interrupting an officiated ceremony, what authority do you have over a drunken king and his weak daughter?” 
the soldier dismounts from his horse, stepping forward to the middle of the isle and removes his helmet— revealing the similar sloped and heart shaped features of your elder brother. “hoseok,” tamarae calls, stealing the words from your very lips. you watch as your younger sister rushes into his arms, the reunion warming your numbed heart. 
the red heard clutches your sibling close, pressing a kiss to her hair in a protective fashion before glaring daggers into namjoon. if looks could kill the prince would be five miles under. the soldier’s namjoon has under his rein, bend the knee to their rightful prince, giving you time to make a dash for taehyung before he collapses to his side. 
“prince hoseok... what—what are you doing here?”
the man in question raises a brow, ordering his men to take namjoon into custody. “the war is over, with word of my sister’s union with dragon prince-“ hoseok nods his head over to you, smirking as the latter male is brought to his knees in front of the entire court. “— spread across the battle field, man and mythical creature alike have found a way to bring peace,” the eldest sibling makes his way toward the pink haired prince and drawing his sword up to the other’s chin. “and next time...you will think twice before treating my sister, thinking you have power over us all. she is stronger and a much better leader than you will ever be. so stand, take your men and leave before i have your head.” 
namjoon nods vigorously, clearing himself and the ceremony up as you sniff thankfully, turning your attention to the dragon prince. as soon as you hold him in your arms, taehyung collapses, barely breathing as you come into his field of view. his perfect lips are dry and slightly cut, a gash along his brow that will surely scar and purple, burgundy bruises just under his ribs where his wings would be. he looks bad, but your dragon has never looked better. “t-tae...my love, it’s okay..hold on for me, please?” you whisper, brushing his hair back as his eyes flutter open and closed. “please don’t go, don’t leave me now...”
the dragon prince open and closes his mouth, head rolling as you move it into your lap. biting back tears, you brush your curls through his now silver locks, faded from the pain most likely. “don’t leave us, taehyung. don’t you dare.” you add, hoseok ordering servants and men to help give you the medical help that you. you can’t bare to part from your love now, chest heaving with your cries as the dragon slips in and out of consciousness. 
“you’re with a child...” he manages to mumble, gripping your hand tightly as his lips form a slight smile. “i could never leave my soulmate, my imprint behind.” 
your heart lifts, taehyung had told you tales of imprints only once— when his mother and father met, they couldn’t stand to be away from one another... in far too much pain. the story helped you believe in love. an imprint is when a dragon finds their mate, their one true love...and taehyung had found that in you. 
“i love you, taehyung.” 
“and i, love you.” 
you let go of his hand, allowing hoseok’s men to whisk your dragon prince away before going to reunite with your siblings. pulling off your veil, you open your arms to join hoseok and tamarae’s hug, nuzzling into them. “we’ll be okay, right?” your little sister asks, nearing tears.  this would be the first time, the three of you have held each other since hoseok left for war.
“we will be,” your brother promises, kissing your hair sweetly. “we always will be.” 
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a year later, you find yourself dressed in another gown. the same fabric as your mother’s from her own coronation, emerald green silk made by those in the village embroiled with crystals from the caves of taehyung’s very own kingdom. your smile shines brightly as your younger sister fixes your hair around the crown you wear, diamond encrusted, silver plated, like the one your mother was. “sister, if you don’t stop moving, you’re going to miss your presentation to the public,” tamarae scolds you, stepping back when she’s finished with her work. “as queen.” 
“queen— that does sound delightful, don’t you think?” you tease, touching at your makeup gently before snaking your lips. tamarae rolls her eyes and pushes your shoulder gently, mumbling something about seeing you out there. over the course of the year, your father had stepped down from his position in the court allowing you to take the lead on your path to queen while you and taehyung reunified the human and magic worlds. after he recovered, you married taehyung in the dead of the night, under the stars in his kingdom, with blessing from his mother and today, you had finally been coronated as queen. 
“incoming!” a voice called, bringing a babbling baby into the room. your smile widened as jimin, the Phoenix and taehyung’s most trusted advisor stepped in, bringing over your daughter of three months. “taehyung is being dressed at the moment, hoseok is doing a cover of the grounds and jungkook,” jimin lists— adjusting cahira, your baby, in your arms. her name meaning, warrior. “he’s setting up things out front on the balcony.” 
“thank you, jimin,” you nod, bouncing your sweet girl before dismissing your husband’s advisor. 
after namjoon was punished for an attempt at overthrow, you managed to salvage your friendship with jungkook, only to the distain of your husband (it took several growling matches and attempts to calm him down before he let your advisor anywhere near you). but nonetheless, you couldn’t help but turn to mush as you watched over your baby, cahira’s eyes were large and bright like yours, taking on the blue colour of taehyung’s. her black hair was curled, with a patch of white from your mother’s side. her nose was most definitely yours, however. taehyung said that from her early months, it was impossible to tell whether she would show traits of a dragon or not, you would have to wait until her first tooth to see. 
but you knew, just by looking at your young princess— she was made to be a queen, just like you and her grandmother before you. 
“i love the way you look at her, like she is all that there is to the world,” your king grins from the doorway, moving over and bending down slightly to play with his daughter’s tiny hands. it truly is a sight to see, a large and mighty beast, cooing at his tiny baby girl. “hi there, cahira...it’s your daddy!” you sweep over your husband, taking in his floppy hair and his tight fitting black blazer that’s spiralled with silver patterns to match your dress. the ash haired dragon preens happily, primal instincts kicking in while he occupies himself with his daughter on your hip, before looking up at you through the curtain of his hair.  “and i must say, i do enjoy the way you look at me as well.” 
shaking your head, you lean down to meet taehyung’s sweet lips, wiping the small smirk off of his face,” a look of adoration, for the people i love most in this world.” you say, standing straight as your lover takes you into his arms, mindful of the giggling baby between you. “i am happy like this, with you.” 
“i am happy with you, completely and utterly in love with you, and my daughter,” taehyung whispers into your hair, kissing it. “we ended the war, and finally received the happy ending that we deserved.”  you stand in the middle of the throne room, just off of the balcony, listening to the chants and calls of your people— both yours and taehyung’s, in the distance. the war had been ended, your love had united the people and your people finally brought together. 
your maids enter the room, opening the doors to the balcony as jungkook comes through to salute you. taehyung separates from you, lacing your fingers together— allowing you to catch glimpse of the wedding rings you both wore. together, for an eternity. 
“ready to face the world, my love?” taehyung asks, taking cahira from your arms and settling her on his hip. “my queen?” 
you stand on your tiptoes, adjusting the matching crown on his head. you thought that you would never rule with a man by your side, and you didn’t need one. but taehyung would never take away from you as a woman, you were his queen and you always would be. you smile brightly, squeezing his palm and nod. “with you, i always will be.” you answer, taking his hand and stepping out towards your future. 
you had once wanted to hold a dragon’s heart, little did you know, he would be holding yours instead. 
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⇢ author’s note(s): hi everyone! thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this fic, i think im most proud of this project and so, in the future im thinking of doing some kind of spin off seires/drabble collection, let me know what you guys think? feedback is always appreciated :D
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sxvethelastdance · 3 years
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Envy
@liulaoweek day 3: envy
Longer than my usual fic fare on here, and for good reason too! Have some Shaolin Rowdyboys (Kung Lao/Liu Kang)... As a treat. 
Kung Lao had always hated his birthday.
What better a time of year to be reminded of his name? The endless expectations that befell it, and him. The Wu-Shi’s way of life dictated that birthdays were less important than the days spent treasuring the principles that preserved life and taught temperance. However, when one was the descendent of the Great Kung Lao, heir to the Kung dynasty and the seeming sole determinant of its honorable: Exceptions were made. And just as exceptions were made in that vein, exceptions were made here as the young man sat solitary in the grass, staring balefully at his reflection in the water.
“What are you looking at?” It was such a petty thing to say, especially with no one to say it to. But sour was the mood of Kung Lao, who swept the water with a hand and washed away the sight of his lips puckered, then pulled into a sneer, and brows drawn in irritation. Today he’d foregone training with Liu Kang to take stock and spare the man his spite, It was pure restraint and the presence of his hat that kept him from flopping back into the dirt of Bo Rai Cho’s old fishing haunt, not wanting to dirty what he had so meticulously polished the day before. Blood, he could clean, but the various fixings of critters and crawlers that lay dormant in the ground were another story. So stalwart and steady he stayed, neck stiff from the fierce manner in which he observed himself on the water’s surface. Scrutiny was at home on the face of a Kung, never satisfied with less than what they could grasp in their hands and share among their kin. Glory for one was glory for all. Conquerors? No, of course not. Competitive? In spades, especially when it was a matter of who championed their legacy and when that very champion was not a Kung.
Liu Kang, he was everything in a champion that he couldn't be, by everyone in earshot’s estimation and many more who were not. Even Kung Lao’s calculated confidence and cutting critiques of those who challenged couldn't fight off this constant onslaught. It was his worshipper, the doubts that rebounded in the walls of his mind and threatened to knock him flat if his wits weren’t about him. If it was not the constant comparison, then it was the constant chatter among the Kungs about how thoroughly their heir had disappointed, letting a man outside their family carry the legacy better than the one born and bred for it. It was… Exhausting, to say the least.
Anger came and went; but the bone deep ache stayed. It was not that he resented Liu Kang either, he could never, would never let what festered in him touch his friend. If anyone in the realms was good to him, it was the Order of Light’s chosen one, and Kung Lao’s chosen. There was little doubt where Liu was concerned. Still, he envied him. Perhaps not as he once did, filled to the brim with anger, swelling with confusion when Raiden declared that it would be him to ascend the title of champion and all of the privileges with it. Time and turmoil made Lao realize that it was no privilege to be what Liu Kang was to the realm: a sacrifice, not born as Lao was but bred to the specifications of the Elders and Elder Gods alike. No, he didn’t envy that. Point in fact, he resented it. Because Liu Kang was more than the sworn sword of the realm, the perfect piece in an eternal power play. He had strength in spades, possessing an intelligence beyond his years. Firm, but gentle, More benevolent than any god he had ever known and fervent in his passions. A complete and unequivocal force for good, be it in battle or the soft, gentle glow of his palms as he lit the lanterns at the Wu-Shi for the children who feared the dark and shivered in the cold. All of these traits were coveted, something one wanted to have for themselves. 
However, that was not what drew such discontent from the heir apparent, no. What Kung Lao envied was his name. He could hear his parents now, aghast at how a Kung could look upon someone so common with anything other than pity. ‘The name from nowhere’, they used to say.
A name from nowhere, and still the very best of things- the best of men made from it. His mind flew to Liu Kang, lost in his own world as he moved through a spirited round of strikes. Brutality measured and patience prospered, beautiful in blood all the same. Especially when he smiled at him. It made his heart beat and his cheeks burn. It took visible effort for the warrior to tear his mind from this line of thought, regretfully guided back to what had brought him here today.
My name, it is a burden because it is not mine. Because I can be no more than ‘Kung Lao’. sans any sort of greatness. Forever carrying the mantle of not their honored ancestor, but instead the marked lesser of the champion. Unworthy of the title, and unworthy to walk the same ground. Perhaps if he humbled himself, overcame his fierce temperament and looked beyond something so trivial as titles and truly focused, he would be just as good if not greater than the Kung Lao for whom he was named.
He scoffed at that, turning from himself. Better to discard that notion with the aspiration of being Champion. 
“It is you who will carry our family, and the fate of many more when you come of age as Chosen. One day, people will look upon you, the reason does not matter.” His mother once said, the picture of dignity and grace as she tended to him. He’d cried, as many children did when exposed to the sharp edge of a well placed word and the newfound discovery of a foundation easily shaken by a bigger and badder beast than the dark. 
“Protection, guidance, reverence, scorn. You must allow a soul to see your fear. Never let them witness your shortcomings, not even in your most private moments, Kung Lao. Should you find yourself in the dirt, ravaged, you cannot make room for doubt. You must do as your ancestor, the man whose greatness for which you were named, did.… Sit tall, and stare on.”
“Sit tall, and stare on.” He parroted, lips pinched in a thin line. Fingers clenched tightly in the blades of grass, Kung Lao gave into vice and ripped them from the soil, tossing them into the stirring winds with a spare thought for Lord Fujin. If only the wind could carry him from this as well as it carried the errant earth.
A sudden crunch of branches underfoot sent him sprawling into the stream. Hand and hat were at the ready before he inevitably found himself softening, heart slamming in his chest.
“Liu Kang?”
Part 1
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wordfires · 3 years
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast Characters: Essek Thelyss, Caleb Widogast Series: Part 6 of Essek Week 2021
so this was meant to be for days 6 and 7 of @essek-week which were tower // fate and au // free day respectively and im a little late but i still did write it
so feel free to read here or on ao3!
Essek stood in the centre of the ninth floor of Caleb’s tower, watching images of himself walk the endless possibilities around him. Hundreds of lifetimes, so similar and so different to the one he had lived. To stand in this room⁠— it was a line of thought he had followed late into many nights, wondering what and who he might have been in some other life. If the threads of fate would have pulled him so hard towards people who he did not deserve.
He remembered as a child being told the story of how the Luxon had tied glowing strings of fate between destined people, people who would complete each other in some way. Soulmates. Essek hadn’t believed the story, after all he had never seen any glowing string tied to him. He remembered the odd look his younger brother had given him when he had made some offhand comment about it, followed by Verin holding up his hand and tracing an invisible line through the air. Essek thought Verin was joking for so long.
It was barely before his first century had passed when he had realized that there was no joke.
He had been working at some theory or another, and within the space of a breath something had pulled tight around his heart for just a moment. He had put a hand on his chest, suddenly fearing illness. But no⁠— there was a pale, glowing string tied around the small finger of his hand.
The details of the story had come rushing to his head; you would see a thread tied around your own hand, but you would only see the connecting thread when you had met your soulmate. The Luxon, as he had been told, had wanted people to work towards it and learn, not obsess over it and ruin themselves.
But it was real. Essek had spent nights reworking the number of his theories after the discovery. He hadn’t told anyone⁠— not that anyone outside Verin knew that he hadn’t seen one. If Verin remembered, in any case.
Although the discovery of the existence of soulmates had been a shock, Essek still felt a wave of anxiety and shock whenever the memory of discovering who his string had tied him to surfaced. He took a deep breath as he let the memory wash over him.
The Mighty Nein had been marched into the halls of the Lucid Bastion, and Essek had almost dropped the spell that kept him afloat as he very suddenly had seen a glowing line drawn between him and Caleb. It was only slightly less of a shock now that he knew the other wizard’s name, but seeing him then, dirty and harnessed and holding up the beacon he had traded to the Empire, had shaken him to his core.
He had ignored it for so long, hoping perhaps Caleb simply didn’t see the string as Essek had slowly and against his will had grown to care about the Nein. He felt his brows pull together as he sighed, again feeling the tug at his heart for betraying the family the Nein had become to him and the betrayal he had done before he even knew their names.
That, on top of his growing feelings for Caleb⁠— he had never been able to tell what had been pulling at him when Caleb had pressed a kiss to his forehead or gently squeezed his forearm. When he had reassured Essek, his Zemnian accent echoing in Essek’s ears. If it had been the string tugging at proximity or his own affections.
Not that it mattered, or ever would.
He could stand here and look at the wonder Caleb had created, watching different lifetimes of himself walk paths that may never have connected with Caleb, or that hadn’t involved betrayal and deals with the Empire as long as he wanted, but it would not change the facts of this lifetime. Of the limited and limitless possibilities this timeline offered.
If Caleb could not see the string connecting them, that was fine. He would never speak of it, just as he would never speak of his feelings. If Caleb could see the string and was choosing to ignore it just as he was, it was just another similarity between them. And another difference, albeit an expected one, in that Caleb very likely did not feel the same.
How was it possible to be so similar to someone and be so different and yet be connected by the very thread that wove the universe?
Essek almost had to laugh, but the building pressure behind his eyes stopped him from anything other than a short exhale as he paused in his thinking, letting himself indulge in possibility for just a moment.
With Lucien and the threat of the Somnovum eliminated perhaps he could truly build a friendship unbroken by betrayal with the Nein. Essek would leave his position as Shadowhand, and remove himself from the politics of the Dynasty. He would quell his ambitions, and quietly spend his days studying. Perhaps Caleb would be there. Maybe they could open a school, rivalling the Soltryce Academy in renown, and teach until Caleb passed. Caleb could leave this world having left a footprint that erased the mark Ikithon had left. Then Essek’s string would fade and he would move on and simply study and learn until his own time came, and perhaps he would be buried in the Clay family’s cemetery. 
Essek blinked away the wet in his eyes, smiling grimly and shaking his head free of the fantasy. After all, that’s what it was. It was unlikely he would see a natural end, and it would be a wonder if he could extricate himself from the mess of lies and politics that awaited him should he ever return to Rosohna. That aside, he couldn’t claim to know what Caleb or the rest of the Mighty Nein wanted. Much less if they still wanted him around. He was being irrational. 
Perhaps he simply needed to rest, and all this turmoil could be forgotten in the morning. He would gracefully excuse himself from the Nein, they would be glad to see him go, and he would go to Rosohna, where he would surely be put to death for treason and that would be the end of it.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,”  Caleb’s voice sounded from behind him. Essek swiped a hand over his face, internally wincing as he turned and watched that glowing string bridge the distance between him and Caleb where he stood at the entrance to the room.
“No, not at all.” Essek let the words fall into the air, his surprise showing more than he would have liked as he let his eyes remain on the string.
“I didn’t know you were up here, I thought-” Caleb paused, and Essek couldn’t stop his gaze from flicking up to meet Caleb’s eyes, “Can you see it too?” 
Essek started, blinking and pulling the hand where the string was tied to his chest. “I-” He paused just for a moment, letting possibilities flow through his mind, “Yes. I wasn’t aware you could see it too.” Essek took a breath, and resigned himself to leaving in the night. “Were you ever taught what it means, living in the Empire?”
Caleb’s cheeks flushed with colour as he responded, breaking eye contact. “In a way, I suppose. There was a story my mother told me, that some people were brought together by destiny. I think for a time I believed her, but I always thought it was just a story.”
“I thought it was a story, too.” Essek pressed his lips together, and wished that his self-restraint had not failed him as he took a small step towards Caleb. “In the Dynasty, I was taught that the Luxon had connected certain people with string. Soulmates, meant to complete each other.” Essek looked away, at the string that crossed the suddenly very small seeming distance between them.
“That is not unlike the story I was taught.” Essek heard more than saw as Caleb took a step closer, and began a second step as he spoke, “Essek, I-”
“I know.” Essek looked up into the sea of possibility of the room, swallowing. “You don’t want to act on it, I understand. I-” Essek felt his head pulled to meet those piercing blue eyes, Caleb’s hands suddenly cupping his face. “Oh.” Essek felt blood rush to his face as he exhaled, eyes wide.
The moment stretched endless between them.
“May I?” Caleb’s voice made Essek’s breath hitch, pulling him back to his body as he nodded.
Caleb’s hands moved up into Essek’s hair, pulling him down to his level as their lips met. Essek felt that pull at his heart as he let his feet touch the floor, but as he pulled away, breathless, he knew he would never have been able to live that fantasy life without Caleb.
The other wizard’s brows furrowed in concern, but Essek wrapped his own arms around Caleb, pulling him close and standing on his toes to kiss Caleb, again and again and again.
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mightydragoon · 4 years
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Darth Vader A+ Parenting.
While Darth Vader in canon ain’t exactly the nicest fellow, this is a Vader or Anakin who has no qualms getting what he wants and using any methods to do so. 
Or otherwise known as Darth Vader A+ Parenting. 
1.  to gain a son Russy
After falling into a trap laid by the Empire and being captured by two Inquisitors, Luke Skywalker wakes up in an unfamiliar room with an unfamiliar man watching over him.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019218/chapters/60586045
2. No Time Like The Present PinkEasterEggs
In a Galaxy where Princess Leia Organa and Luke Vader have always known they were twins, a deadly discovery by their biggest enemy throws their entire lives upside down. Yet again.
Now on the run from the Empire, the Skywalker twins find it their mission to bring peace back to the Galaxy once more. And with Darth Vader on their trail, that mission is far more complicated than they originally believed.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24754825/chapters/59851300
(Note* Part  3 of the  Back To The Future series. Can be read as standalone) 
  3.  The Heir - SpellCleaver
Darth Vader just killed his master and learned a galaxy-changing truth: the child Palpatine adopted, the Imperial prince and heir, is actually Vader’s son, raised by Palpatine to torment him.
Meanwhile, Luke Palpatine just woke up from severe injuries he sustained in a Rebel attack to a galaxy where his father is dead, he is the Emperor, and the figure from all his childhood nightmares is acting suspiciously nice.
They figure it out from there.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24024442/chapters/57801529
4. Eclipse - SpellCleaver
Luke and Leia, the twin children of Darth Vader and heirs to the Emperor himself, defect. When they do, it's naturally a dream come true for the Rebellion and the mother they never knew, one that's been a long time in the making.
But they have to get to that point first.
Or: Darth Vader unwittingly sends his children down the merry path of treason... and the ugly, painful fallout.
(Note* Obviously) 
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18221840/chapters/43109123
5. Walking the Line Between - aradian_nights
After an emotional confrontation on Bespin, Luke Organa has been captured, and his newfound twin Leia Skywalker will not stop until she has rescued him. Even if that means murdering their own father.
( How the Other Half Lives  -   aradian_nights) 
(Note* the entire series is this but more in particular the recent additions, I’ve already discussed this story multiple times before so you know the drill )
6.  The kidnappings of a Sith Lord - maedre13
How a certain Sith Lord may or may not kidnap his rebel son. One-shots. Strongly inspired by sparklight´s “Where Our Intrepid Hero Doesn´t Get Away”.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/10606992/chapters/23453241
(Note* not all these chapters are Vader at his worst but he isn’t exactly a top notch parent in them either) 
7. How to Save the World from its Heroes - stardustgirl
Being the Avatar’s—and Fire Lord’s—non-bending heir isn’t what Luke signed up for. He also didn’t sign up for an Agni Kai he can’t possibly win, or for getting dragged into a search for someone who can kill his own dad. Then again, someone has to bring the world back into balance, and if his dad won’t, then Luke might as well give it his best shot. After all, how much worse can things get?
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24948487/chapters/60386875
(Note* Only started and already you can see Vader A+ Parenting in all its glory) 
8. your heart is full of stars and your hands full of shattered glass -victoriousscarf
Nineteen years ago, Vader took his children off Mustafar, and Palpatine raised them to be Sith, the perfect weapons he had been looking for.
Except the very eve of his greatest victory, the fully functional Death Star, Luke Skywalker defects to the floundering but growing Rebel Alliance. His sister follows because someone needs to watch out for that fool.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/13242183/chapters/30290415
9.  Love of a daughter. - youngjusticewriter
"and yet, so far at least we have yet to figure out what you gain from this." It's a question as well as statement. A chance to explain, to come clean on why she - a unknown Sith- had assassinated they're precious, beloved Chancellor (what fools). But how could you come clean when there is so much blood on her hands? Never-mind the sins and blood on Vader and Luke's when her family had been alive.
When she answers it's not because she's announcing her transgressions in hope that her heavy, dirty soul might be saved. One couldn't repent when they didn't feel guilt in their sin.
"For the love of a daughter." Leia pauses and looks back at Anakin and thinks: I did this to avenge you. After thinking that Leia says one more thing - the last thing actually because she nothing else to say after this.
"And you should have been more careful electing your Chancellor. You never know who is Sith." This has double meaning but she's the only person who knows it.
And she's fine with that (no, she isn't).
Leia wonders if her younger self and Luke will ever become the monsters like her Luke had been and the monster she is.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/10924239/chapters/24297558
10.  Literal Hell - TreeOfTime
Luke Lars is content as a Moisture Farmer with his father and mother... until two people come to find what was lost to them...
Then all hell broke lose
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579066/chapters/53957833
(Note* oh dear lord Vader A+ Parenting in its full glory, a Sith Leia for flavour and a non force sensitive Luke. ) 
11.  Dynasty - Valerie_Vancollie: Co-authored by Rebecca Thomson aka Zekkers.
Hit in the leg by a stormtrooper's blaster bolt, Luke falls in the Death Star hanger bay and is unable to escape on the Falcon along with Han and Leia. During the subsequent interrogation, his true heritage is revealed and Vader instantly takes him to Coruscant, determined to reclaim the son the Jedi stole from him. But the glory of the Imperial capital belies its true nature, where politics and power are everything and anything is fair game in the never ending game to reach the top. Not lying, not betrayal, assassination, sabotage, blackmail, nor seduction. As he commences his Sith training, Luke must also learn the rules and etiquette of the Imperial Court if he is to survive as most of his enemies fight their battles with words and political maneuverings rather than military force. Yet, even as he struggles to gain his place within the Empire, Luke learns that his best friend has joined the Alliance...
https://archiveofourown.org/works/13111908/chapters/29997507
12. Fractured twists - Annessarose
Timelines are fickle things.
Every line is balanced precariously on the precipice. One shift, one twitch of a finger, one step in the wrong direction, and entire stories change. Lives flicker out, galaxies rise and fall, but the Force is always a constant.
Each moment is carefully balanced. We know how the Siege of Mandalore happened - how the former Jedi padawan Ahsoka Tano led her men into victory. How she defeated Maul in single combat and earned the loyalty of Lady Bo-Katan Kyrze. How she rode her ship too late to meet with Anakin Skywalker, and how the galaxy fell and burned under the hand of the Sith.
This is the way it could have gone if Obi-Wan had followed Ahsoka to Mandalore.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24158608
13. Runaway- Valerie_Vancollie
Co-authored by Rebecca Thomson aka Zekkers & a contest winner.
What if Luke had runaway from Tatooine and joined the Imperial Academy?
https://archiveofourown.org/works/12976095
14. A Mother's Decision - Valerie_Vancollie
What if Padmé had brought Luke to Vader when Luke was only nine months old?
https://archiveofourown.org/works/12915687
15. Descent into Darkness - Valerie_Vancollie
What if instead of waiting for Luke to come to him on Endor, Vader had gone for Luke and the others, capturing them while with the Ewoks?
https://archiveofourown.org/works/12908223
16. Avenge and Conquer - arikylo
The Alliance has fallen into a very well laid trap and now Luke has no choice but to hand himself over to Vader. But what does the father have in store for the son? Can Luke handle the torture and the ruthless tactics of the Empire or will he be forced to surrender and embrace the dark side?
The struggle between the light and the dark is strenuous, relationships crumble and all is looking bleak for the Alliance.
Dark!AU set after ESB.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/3058115/chapters/6639581
17. The Terrorist - Seasider
High above Bespin in Cloud City, Vader chooses not reveal his identity and instead uses deceit to trick Luke into surrendering. The Dark Lord has a lot on his agenda, so he entrusts the breaking of his son to an Imperial interrogator, unaware that the man has an agenda of his own: revenge.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24810643/chapters/60006952
(Note* Dead Dove do not eat. Contains some reall fucked up shit) 
18. Consequences - treenahasthaal
An intense burst of light and a vicious blow to his left shoulder sent him spinning violently backward and he fell...
What if Luke hadn't made it off the Death Star immediately following Kenobi's death?
https://archiveofourown.org/works/809144/chapters/1527145
(Note* It’s also a boba fett/ luke) 
19. Instinct - treenahasthaal
There was something about the blond boy in the crowd of detainees that caught Commander Yarryn's attention. Something that pulled at his gut and told him there was more about this captive than met the eye. It was his duty to find out what it was the boy was hiding - and find it he would, for Yarryn was very good at his job.
12 weeks after the destruction of the Death Star.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/2185854/chapters/4785594
( Part 1 of the Invictus series) 
20. Child of Mine - Oneshotshipper
AU. Darth Vader discovers Leia at a young age. Barely managing to escape her father's clutches the first time, young Leia goes into hiding and becomes the Empire's most-wanted fugitive. If the second time comes, fate will not be as kind. Meanwhile, Darth Vader would tear apart the galaxy itself to possess and keep his child. The Dark Side seems to inevitably be the fate of the Skywalkers.
21. To Catch a Daughter, One must... - ftbprotocol
A variety of AU one-shots where in canon Leia stayed a secret, but in these stories did not. Because there needs to be more Leia and Vader fic!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/12173637/chapters/27632673
22.  Daughter Over The Son - Keetajet
Work is inspired by ftbprotocol's work "To Catch a Daughter, One must..."
The moment where Darth Vader did not save his son. Instead, he will have his daughter.
Leia's future went downhill the moment she felt her brother die on the second Death Star, leading to their capture on Endor. Only she, Han, and Chewie survived the failed ground assault and they were restrained and being held at gun point.
She has a bad feeling about this.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25354183/chapters/61476130
23. Before the Emperor - SilverDaye
Luke is defeated and captured at Cloud City by Vader. He is then dragged before the Emperor. However Palpatine is dead. Luke's father is alive. And someone else holds the reigns to Vader and the Empire.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/15950198/chapters/37196351
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omigooness · 2 years
Text
If I was going to sort me, and my friends into the four GoT families,
Stark:
Avery : verr pretty, and ugly at the same time
Kevin(Todd Alison) : knows a lot of things
Ann(hatstall) : seems to love Avery
Emily : cause she is so pretty
Kylyna : somtimes my only friend
LICH : relies on me to destroy planets when he is not there
Lydia : likes Avery
Five(Levi) : for som reason I feel rather fond of him, but i do not know why
Virginia : does she love her mother or not?
Justin Bieber : an old friend
Tsukimi Kurashita : we get along
Lucy Pevensie : children like me
Nyx : funny dog, pretended my mother was her favorite, but I think it was me
June Piper : a twin, leads against me
Vanya Hargreeves : hates me, I get it
Virginia Miller : one of my ocs- maybe she does not hate anywon
Emma Watson : likes me, like she likes Draco, and always has liked Draco
Izuku Midorya : green hair like mine- we are actually quite similar
Reese : a physics teacher, who likes Afrodite
Luca : a boy from elementary school
John Green : evil
Adam : I was not gross in front of him, not at all
Greg : clever kid
McJagger : there are rumors...
Alessia Cara : likes Avery, but I can't tell if she thinks badly of me, so we're cool
Jake the dog : where is the real Jake?
Targaryen:
Light Yagami : (i'm the dorky one)
Lauren Lightfoot : me
Alisha Siddiqi : //b//
Riley Joy : my blood uncle raped a foster cousin, and she had a baby, which is related to me by blood
Gojo Satorou : a very powerful man
Nicholas(Niky) : //b//
Isabella King : //b//
Dale(either half) : //b//
Charles Wallace : considers me family, I know the story
Anika : brave little girl
Rick Sanchez : listens to me, like invader zim
Angelo : liked me in high school
Wednesday Addams: //b//
Angel(my dog) : very pleasant and thoughtful
Nobara : queen material
Megumi : Sean Hammet, is attempting to fix his ways
Maki : thought she liked Avery but seems to like me too
Toge : a very beautiful girl, or at least I think so, anyway
Panda : like Santa Claus, but not horrible
Ayato Naoi : //b//
Tyler Dirden : //b//
Aladdin : upset that I don't like him, but listens, comes from a line of KINGS
Camila(Morticia) : both I and she were tasked to take care of Amai(little Satan)
Eren Jaeger : crazy kid, i like him
Muta Kukichi : //b//
Leondro : 'almost' as crazy as me
Shoto Todoroki : likes women, likes me
Rei Ayanami : likes my son Shinji
Raheel Raad : knows more about me than I thought she did
Rick Sanchez : refuses to hate me (because I can't make him do anything)
Ms Starr : 9th grade english teacher
Napoleon : because he is a mis-fit
Edelweiss : a frightening man
Nat : a dork, like me
Surrey : forced to be here(due to a few recent events)
Baratheon:
Lenin : where are you?
Sukuna : don't die, please, i'm coming
Tyler Joseph : the message man
Paul : belonged in a house where he could rule without question
Alejandra : joined cause of Lenin
Cameron : sort of a dirty boy
Chris : really good at insults
Harmonia : sort of a 'nasty' personality, like her father(nasty being a positive trait, like how I like broccoli)
Alex Conte : Lenin's right hand
Kiev : another nasty boy
Roy Mustang : is reliable, and a play boy
Lucy Lee : a member of the cat dynasty, and listener
Frodo Baggins : what. Am I doing here.
Shinoa Hiragi : somwon who was nice to me, when I was not nice to her, and the first to surprise me like that
Vino : thought I was similar to Chane once
Hideaki Anno : was once Shakespeare
Maddie : did all the coding in POE
Gramma Ann : 'hip crew'
Katherine Brattpfotenhaur : writes fan fictions
Micarah Tewers : cause she has a good sense of humor
Demeter : in the king family
Vine: understands sister very well
Lannister:
Julia : wants to be rich
Laryssa : //b//
Madison Fragnito: much like royalty
Marina Tinkerbella : safe here
Ra : the sun(the sphynx is part lion)
The Doctor : cause he likes Sersei
Sersei Lannister : //b//
George : sort of dirty
Emma King : //b//
Thomas King : no strings attatched
Barron Von Hindenburg : very fancy
Hank Green : i used to be a big fan, still talks to me
Willy Wonka : great at starting businesses, and, letting them fall over
Cosmo : sad little boy
Eric : still thinks i am a woman
Yogi : //b//
Justin Timberlake : was in an entire movie with me
Anagha Pratheep : one of the only people i liked in middle school
Poppy : loves shopping
Uncle Fester : oldest son of a very rich family
Anna Delvi : likes to spend money
Sameena : from India
Annie Leonhart : wanted to be around Marina
I have had at least had a few conversations with everywon here.
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