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itsagrimm · 8 months

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He Who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 11 - The Dive

Monster!König X she/her afab Reader

CN: Mentions of possible death and injury, fear of water, nearly drowning, mentions of possibly getting hurt, inappropriate use of an axe, depression and bad mental health, on character is passively suicidal, cannibalism, fear of being alone, fear of separation from a loved one, lack of self-confidence, kissing, making out, partial nudity

Notes for better understanding at the bottom!

Beta-read by the equally afflicted @queenquazar. Unhinged writing and editing sessions in the dead of night wouldn't be the same without you.

6.0k words

Masterlist

Hope you enjoyed your summer as I have but now as it's getting colder, darker and most importantly weather outside, I am fairly sure updates will roll quicker now.

also I need to do more trips with my camera, I am running out of decent looking header photos.

I made a playlist for this series. Enjoy.

The fresh morning breeze caressed over your slowly warming up skin. Branches of trees danced a lazy rhythm and the late birds of summer sang their song. Ghost stood next to you, wrapped in his coat made of leaves and moss and sturdy solitude, as you both looked up to the window of your bedroom. König was in there, still asleep and out of your reach.

“Let’s try to wake up König one more time.”

Hope reared its head as you heard Ghost’s words.

But not too high.

“How?” You wondered out loud. “I am sorry that you feel stuck here with me, but König did not wake up last time you tried. Why should he now?”

“Maybe we need to try harder,” Ghost replied and grabbed Königs axe.

Your eyes widened.

“Hold on!” You tried to stop what was unfolding before you, only to witness Ghost grow in size, taller than the trees, taller than the house, and far away from your little human words.

“Enough, little brother,” Ghost groaned from high above you and you had to shield your ears from the loud thundering voice “It is time to wake up. I am tired of guarding your Bride in your stead.”

Birds took off, the earth shook and trees froze as in fear of the giant that was said to be their guardian.

Ghost straightened up and turned to the house.

“Hey!”

Like an animal on the hunt that got caught, Ghost froze and turned back, staring down at you with an oddly blank expression.

“What are you up to, Ghost?” You called, trying to ignore the little voice in your mind telling you that shutting up and quivering in fear before the giant was a smarter strategy to survive.

“Why the axe?” You squeaked as you tried not to squeak.

Ghost blinked, confused by this little being that was his future sister in law. Such a flimsy thing of flesh and bone, shouting at him from her place in the dirt. Ghost glanced at the axe, shaking his head.

“Right. I am sorry. I am not used to explaining myself but you have every right to ask,” Ghost admitted, and fell back into a shape more approachable to you, like a shadow growing smaller by the change of light.

“You can do it.” Ghost said. “Hit König with the axe to wake him up.”

You blinked, it was your turn to stare confused.

“He is just the Vodyanoy napping in water. Swinging an axe against him is like hitting the surface of a lake, stirring up a few waves but nothing else. He will be fine. And hopefully he will wake up from it.” Ghost explained and passed you the heavy axe before growing in size again.

You looked down onto the massive wood axe in your hands, the wooden handle old and used.

“Are you sure that will work, Ghost?” Uncertainty creeping up in your mind and voice, worry and frustration manifesting about your fiance’s wellbeing and actions.

“Have you ever heard of running water getting cut?” Ghost answered. “I am not saying König will like it, but it won’t harm him. Trust me.”

You swallowed, feeling uneasy. Hitting a human with an axe in their sleep was murder. Plain and simple. But, König was as much a human as you were a fish. His skin shifted and shaped as he pleased. He ruled the waters and even summoned them in his dreams after not sleeping for who knows how long, destroying your room. And his eyes…

“I understand this might be a lot to ask,” Ghost paused. “You will have to trust me on this one, Vodyanitza.”

His words danced through your mind like willow branches in the wind. If Ghost would have wanted to and this was ill-intentioned, he could have harmed König without bothering to talk and convince you of this plan. Maybe there was a point in trusting Ghost even if the thought of König getting hurt made you grow colder inside than the cooler morning breeze ever could.

You looked up to the giant and nodded.

“Let’s do this.”

“Hold on tight,” He stated and grabbed you to place onto the window sill to your bedroom. Like a leaf he tumbled into the room after you, turning himself small again and landing in the splashing water on your bedroom floor.

You cried out, first in surprise than dreadful fear from all the water suddenly around you as the heavy axe slipped out of your fingers and landed in the water, sinking down with a shallow ‘clunk’ against the wooden planks.

“Ghost. I-” you eyed the water splashing around the room like a lively river. Or a dark river, a deep river, deep enough to drown. “I am afraid of water. I can’t get down from here. I can’t do it.”

Ghost made a sound that could have been a grumbled curse whispered by a tree before being hit by lightning.

“A Vodyaniza who fears the water,” He stated. “Sounds right like the mess my brother would cause. Alright, I’ll do it then.”

“Wait,” You looked at König as you tried to calm your nerves as you took deep calming breaths. He was still deep asleep. A mess of tangled unhuman limbs and scales and hair and skin in the waters of your flooded room. Panic and fear surged from all the water, but you forced those emotions in you aside as you tried to commit his sight to your memory, just in case something was to go wrong.

“Okay,” You finally agreed and nodded to Ghost.

This was it.

Ghost picked up the axe from the water and raised it high before swinging it down onto König.

The impact of the axe connecting with Königs head sounded like thunder rolling over you.

Loud and painful and final.

Suddenly, like a storm, the water rose and reached high before you, waves building and crashing at your feet as you held onto the window frame for dear life while trying to see through the room filled with fine droplets of water and foamy waves.

A groan rang through your ear.

Königs voice - strained and painfully familiar.

Another groan as you heard a second hit from the axe through the wild waters before you … like…

…like a yawn before having to leave bed, yet still feeling tired.

“König?” You hoped aloud, your voice being drowned out by the rushing water and Ghost’s deep voice.

“Wakey-wakey, brother! Stop making your Bride wait for you!”

“Urgh.”

A massive wave crashed right next to the wall with your window, breaking the glass and causing the house to shake from the impact.

“Get up, little brother.” You could not see through all the splashing water before you, only hearing the sound of Ghost’s deep voice. “Stop being dramatic and flooding your girl’s room. It’s rude.”

A third axe hit thundered through the little space before you. More water rose and a wave finally hit you. You wailed as you tried to fight against the dreadful flood, with desperate fingers you reached for safety. Catching the clammy window frame, the sill, and finally just the thin fabric of the curtains until the pull of the retreating water consumed you and took you in to the deep waters.

The silence of being underwater was more unbearable for your mind than the loud crashing of waves and shattering sounds of the hitting axe above.

For a moment fear froze your body and you could not help but stare as you floated impossibly downwards at the sight of König, coiled up like a serpent snake and shifting scales reflecting the light. His eyes were closed except for a sliver of that beautiful blue peeking into the world as if the king of everything under the water was about to wake up. Bubbles of air fought their way out of your lungs and you felt panic as you watched the axe hitting König from above.

Would he be fine?

No blood came out of the wound that broke as the axe connected with Königs sleeping shape. You watched König being unharmed and lazily stretching his long limbs and body as you floated downwards, taken by a strong current in the impossibly deep waters of your bedroom.

Wait, would you be fine?

König did not notice any of it. Instead, his eyes only slightly fluttered, as if merely being tickled awake - lazy, unfocused blinking of blue eyes before sharpening up. Still sleepy, he looked around as if confused if he was still dreaming or awake. Finally, König locked eyes with you and smiled. It was a beautiful smile, toothy and life-savingly-relieving to see him coming back to his senses.

You did not smile back. The air bubbles in your mouth were too precious a cargo to smile for König, opting instead for an unhappy grimace and some waving motions that hopefully spelled out: ‘I don’t want to be here and need your help to get out’.

For a moment, a very long moment as you struggled, König blinked before the realisation kicked in. He was far away, so far away from you in the waters that he had dreamed up. Yet, unbelievably quick the serpent body moved and changed as König headed for you. With hands, not scaled claws anymore, König reached out as he fought his way through a whole ocean between you and him as a last air bubble left your mouth.

Your head was spinning and you started to lose sight as you felt hands on you that lifted you up and out of the water.

You coughed, ungraciously spitted out water as König tried wiping out hair and tangled clothes out of your face.

“Bride! Are you okay?”

You vomited water at his feet and chest while he held you like a cat that got rescued from the floods, close to his body and patting you like a little animal.

“She looks fine.” Ghost’s gravelly voice sounded through the air as you still tried to blink and see. “You better worry about this flood you caused.”

“Oh. Right.” You felt König shift and then the sound of water draining away as if someone had pulled a plug.

You coughed again for good measure, still feeling weak and miserably wet. The cold was starting to set in as the rush of fear and panic started to run out.

Shivering, you tried wiping away the water from your face and opened your eyes.

Your bedroom was a mess. But not in the way your mother would have disapproved of but in a way she would have questioned whether or not it was still habitable. The water was gone, but the signs of the flood were catastrophically clear with nothing being dry, in pieces or not where it ought to be. Your bed was a pile of torn fabrics and splintered wood. The chest with your clothing, tipped over and empty, looked like a sad hungry animal no one had bothered to feed. And your few personal possessions, kept toys from your childhood, gifts from friends, clothes lying around the floor. Ghost was standing before you on something that might have been pieces of your wedding dress, leaning on the axe with the same skull-covered expression as always, yet appearing somewhat amused under it.

And König - he was holding you up to his chest, his hands still patting you helplessly as if that could help you. He looked human. Mostly. The hair was as messy as the first day you saw him, covering most of his face except for blue eyes burning through with worry.

“I-” you rasped despite the storm of emotions waging through you. “I was so worried about you, König.”

Another cough.

“But I have never been as angry as this before. What did you do with my room? And my wedding dress. Also-”

You felt like there was still some water in places of your body where none was supposed to be, wheezing and shaking your head from the uncomfortable feeling.

“-put me down. You are so cold and I feel like I am freezing in your arms.”

Guiltily, König put you down, mumbling something that could have been an apology while Ghost choked on something that could have been a laugh.

You paid no attention to them, concentrating on your weak legs to hold you and carry you to the torn pieces of your wedding dress. Ghost stepped aside and watched you with open curiosity as you held your dress in disbelief of how quickly your work had turned into rags. Holding back tears, you let the fabric fall back down with a wet squelching sound and turned to the door. If you were lucky the hinges still worked and you could walk out on your own and warm you up again downstairs, away from the left battlefield that used to be your sanctuary.

You stumbled, reaching for the handle and opening the door only to face another cruel adversary.

The stairs.

There was no way you were able to make it down the steps without breaking your neck with how wobbly your legs felt and how ridiculously shaky your hands twitched.

You turned around, the pleading frustration in your eyes too visible for König not to step closer and peaking at the obstacle in your way.

He nodded while trying to control whatever emotions attempted to govern his face.

“Allow me, Bride.” He asked and lifted you up again before carrying you downstairs and into the kitchen, setting you down before the warm oven.

Ghost followed and started preparing tea and a hot stone before leaving the room as König returned with dry clothes for you, magically found somewhere in a part of the house that hadn’t been flooded. You looked at the pieces offered in his hands, only to see that it was a mix of mostly your fathers and brothers clothes from the storage. You did not care. They were dry and the village would judge you no matter what you wore. Might as well just do the best for yourself.

Unceremoniously, you stripped out of your dripping clothes. König held and steadied you where you needed it and grabbed the discarded pile of fabrics to put it up on the laundry line outside once you were done.

You stayed where you were, leaning close to the oven in the hopes of warming up quickly, and refusing to do anything before feeling less miserable.

Ghost was still a guest. And König was your fiance. A good hostess and bride would have started serving them the food that you had previously prepared.

A good hostess and bride would not have been dipped into a pool of dreamed up water in their own bedroom either. You thought bitterly before adding a relieving Fuck it.

Someone knocked at the door and you called them in.

Ghost reappear from the outside with a blanket of moss and leaves, wrapping it around you and placing you in the nearest chair to the oven before passing you a cup of the freshly brewed tea.

“Thank you,” You rattled through cold lips.

König returned with more wood for the oven and added a large log to feed the fire. You had shown him how to care for a fire, never expecting he would ever find a need for it. Both brothers hustled and moved around your little kitchen, hardly speaking and only every once in a while giving you worried glances as they made sure all work of a proper household would be done while you rested and warmed yourself. You closed your eyes, letting the feeling of being safe and cared for, seep in.

This day, even if it was slightly past midday, had punched all energy out of you while also confronting you with every possible emotion a human heart could feel. Waking up in the flood, alone and confused, next to your water serpent like fiance, meeting your future brother-in-law who thought you would die soon, nearly drowning once again while your fiance woke from the literally deepest nap possible in your now destroyed room. You sighed, not even bothering to bring order into your mind.

Instead, you gratefully thought how you finally weren’t alone even if it was scary at times to share your life with beings so different from you - König, Ghost, Farah, talking animals and murderous Rusalkis. Yes, this had been another moment where you could have been harmed. And mourning your room and things destroyed by the flood, was one of many things in the curled grey corners of your mind. There was still anger and confusion in you why it all had happened. But you weren’t alone anymore to face those things on your own. There were people around you now that noticed you and cared for your well-being. Clearly, not all of them to the same degree or out of the same motive. You understood that. But your lost room and wedding dress, your fears and secrets and longings felt more like a coherent song than a desperate cry for help when it wasn’t just your voice.

Someone touched you softly on the shoulder and you opened your eyes.

“Hey.” König stood before you with his blue watery eyes and wild hair.

Both brothers had paused their busy work and stood with their attention turned towards you.

“How are you feeling?” Ghost asked gravely from his far away spot at the door and reached for more tea for you with his long unhuman arms without moving.

You shivered, unsure if from the cold or from the odd reminder that neither of the men were human.

“Better,” You replied. “Thank you for giving me time to recover.”

Your eyes wandered to König, craving to hear his voice again and feel his warming eyes on you. He looked away, avoiding your gaze.

Your little heart dropped deeper than the waters in your room had been, fighting hard to soldier on.

You cleared your throat.

“Well,” you squeaked, your voice still feeling thin and fragily human as you addressed the giant men. “I am starving. This is not how a host normally does it in this house since all I did was sit and rest now. But how about we eat?”

The rabbit stew that you had made this morning smelled tempting and promising from its reheating spot in the oven and you heard your own stomach growl.

“Thank you for the invite, Vodyanitza,” Ghost declared, slightly bowing his head. “But we will have to do that another time.”

“Oh,” You huffed, slightly disappointed.

Ghost stilled, as if thinking before taking a deep breath.

“It has been lovely meeting you, my dear sister-in-law. It’s been a pleasure. Also- ” He paused. “I may have treated you rougher than necessary and I do apologise for that. If you ever need help, just send for me. I may not appear to be the most, let’s say, approachable. But I do hope that there is nothing but the best for you and I am looking forward to your wedding.”

“You are coming after all?” König finally spoke, surprise ringing in his voice as he turned to his brother.

Ghost nodded. “It’s not every day a brother of mine gets married. I need to make sure you don’t drown your own wedding guests.”

König forced a smile.

“Graves marries someone new every couple of years,” He interjected.

“Graves married and remarried so much, he hardly needs his elder brother to tell him how to plan a party. He knows what he is doing.”

Both brothers chuckled and you smiled at the sight, remembering your own brother.

“Before I go, dear sister, allow me to give you something.”

Ghost reached into his coat. From the depths of his pockets he produced a huge leaf, rolled up into a package and bound together with a simple string.

“I suppose you have none yet, but a future queen should wear one. It would look good on your wedding day.”

You took the package from his hands and pressed it slightly, trying to guess what was inside.

“Thank you, Ghost. Why-“

“Open it.”

Obediently you opened the little knot holding the leaf together with slow, cold fingers and unrolling what was inside.

You gasped.

In your hands was a Kokoshnik, large and covered with fine embroidery and colourful stones of green and blue. It felt firm in your hands. And it wanted to be worn. Like a crown, proud and bright for a special day. At least one thing you would have for your wedding day.

You thought back a sob at the thought of your torn wedding dress, your fingers still holding the precious crown like an anchor.

“I am sure König will gladly help you put it on. But don’t lose it. I made it for you and there is no other like it. It will protect you when you walk in the forest.”

“I…”, you huffed, “…don’t know what to say. This is very beautiful. Thank you.”

Ghost just waved with his hand like it was nothing.

“Don’t say anything and just wear it to keep you safe. Do me that favour.”

You nodded, out of words.

“Well, I’ll be gone then. The forest calls me.” Ghost turned to the door and you started to get up to send him off. “Don’t you dare get up, sister. What’s the point of the Kokoshnik if you fall sick from the cold and exhaustion. No, stay right where you are.”

You fell back onto your spot, the moss blanket encasing you like a cocoon of earthly smell and warmth.

“Save travels then, Ghost.” You spoke. “Thank you again.”

“Don’t mention it.” He waved and stepped outside, followed by König.

You sat there, hearing them talk and laugh and wishing each other well without making much out of it.

Then, finally, Ghost was away.

The rest of your day was spent alone with your own thoughts. König, aside from making sure you ate and rested, hardly spoke to you. His distance confused you. It gave a feeling of newfound loneliness when you stared at the unfamiliar ceiling with the wrong knots in the wood and the wrong bedding around you as you leaned against the oven. Ghost’s reassurances just a couple of hours ago now felt like a lie. You were no queen. And there was no way for you to live long enough to ever learn how to be one for König that was good enough. No standing on a box or life saving spells could change that. The finality of your fate was devastatingly simple. You would drown and König, your beloved König, would find himself a better queen. Why else did he withdraw himself like that?

The mauling insecurities inside of you stopped you from asking.

Instead you listened to König rummaging upstairs while you dozed under your moss blanket, practised drawing letters in the ashes of your oven or thought about how you could fix your wedding dress. It was pointless but you had little else to do and so you continued like you had always done.

König had brought the dress out together with the rest of your wet belongings, hanging it up to dry in the sun. The liberating concentration kept you from your dark thoughts: you had watched the dress through the window, mentally placing one piece of rag over the other in the hopes of possibly having a saving idea as the rags swayed gently in the breeze. It had worked until the light grew low and the trees around the house in the garden had started to spawn more unpleasant shadows than welcome distractions.

You got up from your cosy spot and started preparing dinner. Still feeling weak, your legs carried you with a slight tremor as your whole body was plagued by a deep tiredness. It came from all those times not resting. It felt like all those tears not shed. It was a tiredness that wasn’t fixed by sleeping longer one night because it was deeper than the soreness in your muscles and bones. It was the dark abyss of water calling for you. But you could lie to yourself. Opting to go to bed and calling it a day in the hopes that tomorrow would be better. Sometimes, giving up was actually a smart thing.

You huffed, once again forced to consider the reality of your situation.

Going to bed? Where? Your bedroom was destroyed. And the other rooms in your house had been packed up and sealed when your family died. Back then it was too much to bear seeing their things and looking at the places they used to rest. Even now, under no condition were you ready or willing to disturb those rooms. The easiest for you would probably be to sleep here in the kitchen.

But what about König? Would he need to sleep too? Flood the rest of the house and destroy every last bit of habitable space as he took you out in your sleep? Or would he leave you tonight and watch as the human-monsters and monsters-monsters finally had their feast with you. The thought nearly entertained you. Maybe that was better than drowning and at least some poor Tschort would enjoy a bit of your precious meat.

You chuckled at your own morbid thoughts.

But it was not night yet, and maybe there was a bit of queenly pride inside of you yet as you decided to brace yourself for an overdue conversation with König, leaning against the kitchen counter for support.

You opted to make some food. Since it might be your last chance to enjoy a meal before you became a meal, you took your time. There was not much to be done for dinner: heating the left-over stew, cutting some bread made of acorn flour, setting the table. After you finished, you steeled yourself for the hardest part.

“König?” You called upstairs. “Would you like to eat dinner with me?”

You held your breath and waited as the rumbling from upstairs stopped.

“It’s fine if you are busy, but I am hungry and would love your company,” You coaxed.

Heavy steps sounded through the wooden house, causing the old stairs to creak under the weight of the Vodyanoy.

König emerged into the kitchen, bowing down slightly under the marginally too low ceiling and looking at you sheepishly.

“Are you sure, Bride?” He asked. “I haven’t finished repairing your room.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, too stunned to speak before you swallowed down a good chunk of your raging insecurities.

“So that’s what you have been doing up there,” You finally said. “I did not know.”

König looked to the ground like he had been caught stealing goodies from the pantry. It was a look that made your knees weaker than even a day facing terrors could.

“I wanted to repair it. I wanted to apologise with more than words. It’s what good kings ought to do.” He explained looking immensely guilty.

Your breath hitched.

He cared?

You looked down, still thinking of your room and your ruined wedding dress. It did hurt you.

But there was hope because he cared. You nearly hated yourself how desperate you were from the affection of someone who you could never have.

“It’s fine,” You said, after a few moments of heavy silence as you fought the storm inside of you. “It’s fine for now. We will make it work and repair it together. It’s, ah, fine.”

He looked relieved as you looked up from your hands.

“I also want to apologise,” You continued. The words in your mouth felt relieving to spit out like bitter medicine. “I thought about this. I was really cross at you. Not entirely sure how much nicer I could have been considering the moment. But I don’t strive to talk to others like that, especially not my fiance. I just felt hurt and alone.”

He turned his head like the Heron when hunting little fish in the water.

“You have every right to be angry, dear,” König stated

“I...” You tried before stopping and starting anew. “That does not mean I am proud or okay with my words. Especially after Ghost explained to me that you probably overworked yourself on my behalf. I am not sure how to feel about that yet but it does not make me feel good. I don’t want you to suffer because of me. I feel so guilty. And like a burden.”

König stared at you.

“Dear,” He said softly. “I know you want to be good and kind. I know you are. But please give me your bad as well.”

You blinked at him.

“What?”

He raised his arms like a man at a loss of word, stumbling around the room until he turned back to you.

“Guess how I feel failing you over and over again when your reaction to me is kindness and surrender? I feel bad. The worst! Don’t do this to me. Be a burden. Be angry. Be the biggest inconvenient person wherever you go. Please be angry and demand better of me! I want all of you. Not just the nice parts.”

Your head was spinning. Was he…? Did he really…?

“I am not good enough!” König continued his tirade with a voice rising louder and louder like a tea kettle that had reached its boiling point. “I am who puts you in danger over and over again. I hardly protect you from the dangers of the world. I am a danger of the world. I am making a poor husband for you. But the reality is, I am not good enough to step away because I am selfish. So, how dare you make yourself feel any less than you are.”

His eyes gleamed with a madness you had never seen before in him as he lowered his voice with the last of his words. It was dangerous. A sign of warning that told you to step back and run as far away as you could like a good girl should.

But you were just invited to leave that behind you.

“I don't want you to leave either!” You hit back, squaring up to the challenge. “I just don’t want to feel like I am a constant problem. I am just a human! A peasant! And a bad one at that since I will likely starve next winter without help! I know nothing of how to be a queen! I nearly drown all the time! How can you not understand that I don’t feel like I am allowed to be a problem when my reality is that no one cares if I live or die!”

“Because you are wrong! I care.” König's eyes gleamed as he hissed his answer.

“Why?” You spit back, the fire in you burning and ready to torch any bridge behind without thinking.

“Because I love you.”

Königs words hung in the air, irretrievable and powerful enough to break whatever you two had.

You looked at him. His face was frozen in fear and panic. Like he had admitted to a crime he’d sworn to keep a secret.

He loved you. The thought raced through your mind, unsure where to be put and what to do with it now.

“I am sorry,” König said. “I understand. I will make sure you are okay as promised anyway and-”

“Please…” you managed to your own surprise.

“Please?” König asked with his eyes shining down at you.

You took a deep breath and all the courage in you that was left, “Please lean down so I can kiss you.”

König looked at you, too stunned maybe or unsure how to touch you without breaking this human body of yours, before finally kneeling down in one, not so smooth, motion. You stumbled forward, colliding into his chest and tangling in his arms before lifting your head and kissing him.

It was all teeth and desperation. König met your lips with a hunger matching yours, and an anger challenging your long hidden fury. He moaned and you wanted every bit of air you could get from him as you roamed his back and shoulders and arms and chest and neck, and at a certain point you got lost in him. You bit his lips and tasted blood. He snarled and pushed you back, catching your head before you could fall and hurt yourself. You stumbled and fell back anyway, taking him with you. The crash rumbled loudly as König caught himself on his arms, hovering above you before continuing where you had left off. His mouth was addicting, and willingly you answered his salty lips and tongue. A bit of revealed skin at his neck here, a tug at your shirt there. You scooted up feeling hot and needing that damn old shirt off your body because you were burning up with it. Instead of getting it off quickly you got yourself tangled in the large sleeves, nearly ready to just tear it off your body as you felt Königs hands pulling at the fabric and freeing you. The kiss of the cooling air on your skin made you still. For a moment you felt shy, making you cross your arms in instinct before your chest.

König looked at you from a position that was something between kneeling, sitting and lying before you, also half out of his clothes with his Rubacha hanging around his neck and head.

“Not sure why I feel like this is new, now.” You admitted. “You have seen me naked before.”

“That was a different nakedness,” König offered and finished getting the shirt off. “This is new.”

You nodded, understanding entirely what he meant, and continued to feel vulnerable. What were you supposed to do? You had no idea what you wanted now except being close to König.

“We don’t have to continue, my love.” Your fiance said.

You nodded again, reassured yet still utterly lost on what to do.

König scooted closer and slowly raised his hands, “Can I touch you? I just want to hold you.”

Instead of bothering with words or another creative and variety serving nod, you leaned into him. Königs warm hands caught you, pressed you closer to him and embraced you.

You hummed.

“Is this good?”

“Yeah, I am sorry-”

“No,” König shut down instantly. “No more ‘sorry’ for you tonight. Or ever. I really meant that.”

You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion.

“But what if I do something bad?” You countered as you enjoyed feeling close to König. “Shouldn’t I say sorry at some point?”

“To me? Always.” König grinned teasingly before growing serious. “The rest of the world, however, has a lot of apologising to do before you ever get back into a situation to be sorry for something, dear.”

“You just want me to be as bad as you are,” You teased back half-heartedly.

“Naturally.”

You stayed silent, not sure what to say or do except enjoying being safe and loved in Königs arms as you mindlessly explored his back and chest with your fingers, drawing little circles and charms into his wonderful skin.

“We should talk about the sleeping situation tonight.” You finally spoke, breaking the silent spell over you.

“Yeah.” König agreed. “I have an idea.”

Cultural Context Notes:

The theme of the unkillable giants as beings connected to nature can be found in the Edda, but it’s not the only place this theme is explored. It’s just the most clear one I thought of, and can be put into words as a place to maybe start researching if your are interested in that. The idea of hitting König as something akin to a giant to wake him up, comes from the tale of Thor and Skrímnir.

Generally, the idea of paralleling gods/godlike beings, humans and giants, escalated into a bit of a philosophical excursion at the kitchen table when I mentioned how the story is unfolding, leading to the question what exactly the difference between godlings, giants and humans is and if there even is one. In plenty of pre-Christian European tales, there aren’t boundaries between godlike beings and humans. If a human stays with a godlike being, they kind of tag along and don’t die like they would have had when staying with their fellow humans. Sometimes there is an explanation for it (godly ancestry, nectar or Idun’s apples, magical blessings), sometimes there isn’t (Thialfi and Röskva as Thor’s entourage, general trope of humans in service of or in marriage with a non-human being).

Warming stones or using ceramics is an old practice when hot water bottles weren’t available.

There are several legends and myths associating the water or waters generally with snakes. Naturally, there is the saga of the Midgard snake, encompassing the world in Norse mythology. The theme of a great water snake or mermaid-like half-fish, half-human body encompassing the world also comes up in Greek mythology in the figure of Oceanos as the great river god and father of river gods. Since we don’t have plenty of sources about old Slavic beliefs, I am taking the liberty and filling some gaps here from geographically closer regions where we do have more sources on mythology.

Acorn is edible and can be made into a fine flour from which it is possible to bake bread. However, do not just make flour from acorns. It’s a huge process to disinfect and debitter acorns before grinding them into flour. There is a reason why nowadays most cultures opt for utilising cultivated crops like grains and legumes instead of using low yield giving nuts and seeds. (Also, we really need those acorns as food for wild animals and for reforestation!) Cultivation of plants is a huge game changer for human life quality and communal living. It’s really cool. But it does require more cooperative systems of labour since harvesting and processing plants like grain requires sharing of work, space to do it, and natural weather & ground conditions to grow. Plus the grain in itself needs to be cultivated first. And these amazing food sources can be exploited by having control over places in which one can grow certain high yielding crops which can trigger war and oppression. Most noticeably in the Central and Eastern European region, which is obviously what I write about a lot, this is the case with Ukraine. This now independent country has good climate and ground conditions, yielding great harvests of wheat grain and sunflower, leading to the region being dubbed the Granary of Europe. Ukraine was fought over not just today but also occupied in historical moments like WW2 by the Nazis or under the Russian Empire precisely to have access to these high yielding conditions. So, food and where food comes from, is an important angle to understand plenty of conflicts, imperial oppression and cultures. I invite you to read more about the history of grain, why Ukraine has a flag literally depicting a grain filed under the blue sky or maybe learning how to make bread yourself. To return to my point: Bride lives in an area which has seasons. However, the climate is cooler with lots of swamps and waters around. The forest takes most of the shore space in her immediate vicinity. She has a garden in which she (tries to) grow buckwheat, a very climate-resistant pseudo grain. And technically she owns fields, but has no way to work them on her own due to the lack of manpower, possible lack of seeds, as well as timing issues for the sowing. But common grains like wheat require a warm and steady dry climate which is not the case here. Other grains like rye are historically common in Central and Eastern Europe, however one needs to plant them first and after the harvest it still requires labour to dry and deshell the rye first, a luxury that Bride does not have because she has been on her own for most of the year. So, to finish this long excursion on grains and flours - she uses acorn flour for bread because she was isolated and on her own. Also, agriculture is really cool and maybe you will think about the amount of labour, logistics, politics and historical development when biting into something flour based.

Vodyanitza is just the female version of Vodynoy

Rubacha is the name of the traditional linen shirt worn by historically both men and women but nowadays mostly associated with male clothing traditions. This shirt is often loosely fitted and bound at the hip with a belt. Having embroidery, especially red embroidery on a Rubacha is very common as red natural dye was widely available in the region. The embroidery and introduction of other colours is dependent on the exact time and place a Rubacha comes from. Even nowadays the Rubacha is part of plenty of Eastern European traditional dresses.

Quick reminder: a Tschort is a type of evil spirit.

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#grimmwriting #he who comes from under the water #hwcfutw #könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #call of duty 3 #call of duty modern warfare 3 #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #leshy #monster!au #monster!König #vodyanoy #vodyanoy!König

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piedpiperart · 10 months

Text

Phantom of Gotham 11

Chapter 10

After lunch, the four boys parted ways and Danny found himself in his room. He checked his Tucker Approved phone for the four hundredth time since arriving in Gotham to find a spam of messages. Situating himself on his bed he clicked the messages open to read. All of them were from Tucker, in what looked like an info dump of updates on Amity.

Danny frowned, not really liking what he reads. According to Tucker, his parents really were working with the GIW and Jazz had scoped out that they had already started inventing some questionable things. One was a tracking device of sorts, which sent a shiver down Danny’s spine at the implications of that. They were fairly certain that Danny was still safe in Gotham for the time being, given they didn’t think the range of it would go as far as Gotham from Amity.

Tucker reported that while everyone else in Amity was still going about business as normal, Valarie, Sam, Tuker, and Jazz had picked up slack on ghost hunting. There were not a lot of ghosts coming to Amity, especially now that Phantom was MIA, so there wasn’t a lot of work to be done. Mostly, it took more effort to keep the Fentons distracted.

On a sidenote, Sam had a run in with Vlad because of her millionaire parents, and concluded that the old man had something planned. None of them could figure out what, but they seemed to be more worried about the GIW and the Fentons to think about Vlad’s friutloopy plans. Either way, Sam and Valarie were keeping an eye out. Speaking of Valarie, apparently she joined the team because she was worried about Danny going missing. Tucker and Sam had given her the barest amount of information and in turn got her to help them wrangle the ghosts in Phantom’s absence. He was quick to reassure Danny that Val didn’t know about him being a halfa, but Danny trusted Tucker with his life. Even if Tucker had told her, he knew it would have been for a good reason.

Sighing, he typed out an acknowledgement and signed off, hoping they were doing okay without him. His core pulsed anxiously at his feelings for his friends and sister. It felt wrong to have them deal with all of this without him. Danny couldn’t help but feel responsible for dragging them into this mess. But, he couldn’t help the overwhelming feelings of pride and affection that his friends were so capable at handling this. That they cared about him.

Danny laid on his bed for a while before getting bored. He couldn’t fall asleep, so he figured he might as well find someone to bother. His core thrived on being around people, and protecting them. Out of everyone in the manor, Danny figured someone might have some free time, or needed some cheering up from being stuck inside all day. Though, looking out the window he could tell the blizzard had died down. All that was left were the heaps of snow and icy trails. It looked pretty, the thought absently. Maybe he could help Alfred with something. The elderly man was probably not enjoying the cold.

Fighting the urge to smother the old man in blankets, he turned the corner and almost bumped into the manor’s smallest resident. “Oh- Damian, hey, want to play in the snow?” Danny asked,”Looks like the blizzard stopped.”

Damian wrinkled his nose, glancing out the window. “I do not require a babysitter, Folson. Playing in the snow is for children.”

“I dunno, we could have a snowball fight?” Danny offered. “You could bring your dog. Tim said you had a dog, right? Dogs love snow. Probably.”

“Fine,”Damian sighed. “Titus has been upset at being cooped up in the manor, and I am under the impression that you will freeze out there without proper supervision.”

“Awesome!” Danny exclaimed, bouncing on his toes.”Lets go, I wanna meet Titus.”

“You won’t be going out in that,”Damian scowled at Danny’s t-shirt and socks. “Follow me, you can use Drake’s winter gear.”

Danny and his core were too excited to play in the snow to complain about having to put on warmer clothes. Not that they’d really help against the cold, since he’d be fine no matter what, but if it made Damian feel better he’d do it.

---------------------------

Damian sighed exasperatedly. After Danny cajoled him and Titus into going out into the snow-filled backyard of the manor, Danny and Titus had not stopped jumping and running through the snow. The smaller teen watched from his position as Danny raced Titus through the snow, only they had to trudge through what was probably a good foot and a half of snow so it wasn’t very fast. Damian scowled that Danny and Titus had gotten along so well. Usually Titus took a bit longer for strangers to warm up to.

Suddenly, the two miscreants raced towards Damian as he looked on with mild annoyance, until about ten feet in front of Damian Danny had dove into the snow in front of him. Pushing down amusement, Damian took a step forwards, realizing that Danny had in fact doven under the snow to confuse Titus. The greyhound was nosing around where Danny had disappeared, and Damian was about to call him over when a voice rang out behind him.

“You gonna join us?” Damian hid a jolt of surprise that Danny had not only snuck up on him, but also apparently traveled ten feet under the snow to behind Damian without him noticing. He whirled around to face the other boy who had snow clinging to his clothes and hair despite Damian’s efforts to get him into Tim’s winter gear. His eyes wandered from Titus to Danny before he elected to ignore it.

Danny’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and Damian gave him a look. “Join you in what?” Damian asked sarcastically,”You two have just been running around in the snow for the past ten minutes.”

Danny nodded,”True. I think I just missed my dog a lot. Titus reminds me of him, and we used to go running around the park a lot. But we can make a snowman if you want?”

Damian perked up at the mention of animals. “You have a dog? Who is taking care of him while you are here?”

“Ah, he’s not really my dog?” Danny said sheepishly, running a hand behind his neck. “He’s kind of a stray dog that likes to stick around sometimes. I play with him when I can but couldn’t keep him, you know?”

Damian nodded sagely. “I understand. It took me a while to convince Father to adopt TItus. What kind of dog?”

“I have no idea,” Danny smiled, reminiscing about his kind of big and small friend. He continued talking, but started packing the snow around him into a pile.”But his name is Cujo and he’s super sweet, but not very obedient. He looks kind of like a bulldog? I’m not really sure, but I think you’d like him.”

“I’m sure we’d get along,”Damian agreed. He definitely got along with animals more than people. Part of him was glad Danny had a dog, because that meant the teen understood a bit of where Damian was coming from. “Now can we go back inside now?”

“What? No way, we’ve only been out here for like five minutes,”Danny complained, flopping into the snow, despite the disapproving look on Damian’s face. “Besides, I just got started on my snow-batman.”

Damian scowled at the lump of snow in between them. “If you’re trying to make Batman, you’ll need more snow. He is taller than that.”

“It would be faster if you helped me,”Danny pouted, reminding Damian of Grayson,”You know Batman better than I do.”

“Fine,”Damian relented, despite the cold irritating his exposed skin. He knelt down to pack the snow in better, and before he knew it, they were making a life-sized Batman snowman.

“He’s perfect,” Danny said smugly, hands on his hips. Looking over the snowman that towered over the two of them, Damian could admit he felt a bit of pride at how they managed to make a snowman that perfectly encapsulated the dark knight.

“How are you not cold?” Damian scowled, looking to Danny’s uncovered fingers. He’d taken his gloves off to make the bat ears because they needed a ‘delicate touch’, and hadn’t put them back on. Even Titus had retreated back into the house for warmth. “Do you have some anti-cold meta-human ability?”

“Um,”Danny started, caught off guard. He shifted in the snow, debating food a moment while Damian stared at him with narrowed eyes. Damian wasn’t exactly trying to pry, but he wanted to know if his siblings’ theories were correct, or if Danny would be a threat. Granted, Damian thought it was difficult to view the boy as a threat after watching him fail at making snow-bat-man’s ears twenty eight times. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Damian raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. They kept eye contact before Danny slumped in defeat, looking a little bit wary.

“Okay, I’m not really a meta, but I can like, create ice and snow and stuff,”Danny said, looking back up to the mansion as if someone were watching them. Damian however, knew along with the rest of his siblings that Danny had some type of meta abilities, but was preening internally at being the first one trusted with the secret. Danny lifted his hand, and Damian watched as a few snowflakes forms to circle the air before floating to the ground “So the cold doesn’t bother me, and I’ve never lost a snowball fight. But I can’t do anything big, and I didn’t cause the blizzard, so please don’t tell anyone?”

Damian wrinkled his nose. “I would not betray your secret. However, I doubt ice powers are your only abilities.”

Danny bit his lower lip, and Damian was about to say that he didn’t need to say what they were even if he was curious, when Danny smirked. “I may have cheated at arm wrestling.”

Caught off guard by his answer, Damian huffed out a laugh. He cleared his throat, continuing with,”Super strength then? What about speed or healing?”

“Nah, not speed but I think I heal a little bit faster than normal,”Danny said, starting on another snowman. Damian guessed it might be Robin, and deduced that it would be embarrassing to have only a Batman and Robin snow sculpture out in the lawn where everyone could see it.

“Despite your abilities, I highly doubt you’d be able to win at a snowball fight against me,”Damian redirected. He kicked at the newly formed pile of snow when Danny wasn’t looking just to ensure it’s doom.

Danny’s eyes lit up, and his hesitant smile turned bright. “Oh, you’re on!”

If Damian and Danny were smiling like idiots as they pelted eachother with snowballs and hid behind snow fortresses, then no one knew but them and the cameras Alfred would review later and then show to Bruce. Both adults would ignore how Danny seemed to create snow-sculptures in minutes.

Hours later, Alfred came outside to fetch the two boys, only to come across an entire snow-army of replicas of the Bat family, as well as a few other heroes. On either side of the yard were two different versions of a castle, with little piles of snowballs on each side of the fortress. Alfred raised a brow at having spotted Damian first as he threw a snowball to hit the small snow Robin at a perfect angle to topple the entire thing. From the other snow-barricade castle, Alfred heard a noise of distress.

“How could you Damian?!” Danny cried out at his fallen brethren.

“He is an abomination and deserved death,”Damian called back, only for Danny to appear out of the barricade with a snowball in each hand.

“I’ll avenge you Snobin!” Danny exclaimed, using his snowballs to hit what Alfred thought was a snow-Titus on Damian’s side.

“Sn- don’t call it that!” Damian demanded,”How dare you kill snow-Titus?!”

“There’s like four Snitus’s over there! He sacrificed himself for the greater good,”Danny called.

“You are not allowed to give my Snow-Titus names!” Damain yelled back, throwing more snowballs to topple Danny’s army.

“Not Snow-wing too!”Danny cried, and Alfred decided to intervene before all the snow people met their end.

“Boys! Won’t you come inside to warm up before dinner?” Alfred called, mustache twitching in amusement as both boys halted what they were doing to stare at Alfred, only for a snowball to smack Danny in the face while he was distracted.

“Coming!” Damian called, running gracefully up to the manor. Danny on the other hand, squawked in protest and stumbled after the younger teen.

As they both passed the butler, he couldn’t help but hope Danny would become a permanent member of the family if he got along with Damian so quickly.

Chapter 12

#phantom of gotham #dcxdp #dpxdc #Danny Phantom #danny fenton

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mechformers · 1 year

Text

Ma Miles - Ch. 11

3.1k words

Bold letters are spoken in English by the Reader to Quaritch.

'ts I, the easy writer that spews words in excitement after getting compliments... It's almost embarrassing by now lol Anyway, here's another, smaller, chapter for you!

(If you want to be tagged with the updated chapters, please leave your @ myusername in the comments! )

Previous chapter | Masterpost | Chapter 12

Humiliated. That’s how he felt. Utterly humiliated. Embarrassed that he’d let his emotions develop into something so meaningless as infatuation. Being sweet on a hostile, no matter how pretty, was beneath him. It didn’t mean squat that she’d been his son’s mother all these years, didn’t mean shit that she’d raised him to be a confident and happy boy. It was wrong, and deep down, he knew that.

Except… that wasn’t right. Immediately, the thought makes his chest hurt, makes his stomach cramp uncomfortably, the cruel lie proving too much for him. Shaking his head, he pinches the broad bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes. Taking deep breaths to calm his frozen, racing heart, he eventually manages to ease the queasy feeling he’d been keeping at bay for the past hour. Stepping up to the ceiling-to-wall window, he looks out at the Pandora night skies. Distantly, behind the Kill Zone, the jungle almost twinkles with the bioluminescent glow from the trees and plants.

Sighing deeply he rests his forehead against the cold glass. This was a mess. He knew that he couldn’t blame you for pulling away, for rejecting him. He was basically your jailor, the one who had kidnapped your son and held you prisoner, allowing for the events of your torture to happen. Still, he thought that he had read the signs right. Thought he had recognized mutual attraction when you sought out his touch, but he must have been wrong. You looked so uncomfortable when you had pulled away, giving the sorry excuse that you needed to get back to Spider. Your son was a teenager, he didn’t need his mother with him 24/7, but then again, a part of him understood. This was not an ideal situation…

Still, his pride had taken a major hit, one he needed time to heal from. So he did the only thing he could, he separated himself from you. When your worried eyes had searched for his during breakfast, he had ignored you, instead continuing to push his food around. He knew that the action not only hurt you but Mansk as well. The younger man wouldn’t say anything, but Quaritch could see it in the way his ears drooped. He obviously thought that he had failed to impress his leader. Quaritch would have to do something about that.

“Won’t you fix me up a box of this, kid,” He drawls as he steps up to Mansk when everyone had finished their breakfast.

“Yes, Sir,” Mansk’s ears flip up to attention immediately, his tail swishing lazily behind him.

“You did a good job with this,” The praise takes the younger man by surprise, the notion obviously not a common occurrence by the way Mansk reacts. Quaritch makes a note to praise his unit more often. Taking the box from the younger man, he turns to leave, only to run straight into you.

“Pardon me, ma’am,” Quaritch dips his head, avoiding eye contact.

“I need the talk with you?” You ask him, your voice almost small, but still determined and to the point.

“I’m late for a meeting, it’ll have to wait,” He doesn’t wait for your reply, instead he strides down the hallways as if a thanator was on his tail.

“Lyle, you’ve got lead today,” He shouts as he’s out of there like a bat outta hell.

Willingly, he walks into the General’s office, prepared to bullshit a direct report just to fill a couple of hours of his day. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have anything to do, but this would be the less boring option. Making a face at the pile of paperwork on his desk in his room, Quaritch decided that the General definitely was the better of two evils.

“Genera Ardmore,” He greets after she beacons him inside after he knocked.

“Colonel, what can I do for you?” The woman smirks and immediately, Quaritch regrets his decision.

“Figured a direct report was owed, after the mediocre paperwork, ma’am,” Quaritch bullshits through his teeth, but a shift in the General’s face is all he needs to clamber onto.

“Go on,” Ardmore folds her hands over the desk as she leans back in her chair.

And so he covers every base, going into detail about what they’ve learned, about how they mostly understand the ins and outs of Pandora and how it works. He reports how his unit is quick to catch on and how, with each day, they manage to handle the wildlife that poses a threat to their operations. The General eats it up with seemingly undivided attention, but there was something burning behind the General’s features.

“The native has officially connected us to their deity, by way of the queue in the back of our heads. We are now able to connect to places. I reckon we’ll be able to move out on Sully soon,”

“Well, that was a thorough report, Colonel,” General Ardmore starts, her beady eyes staring into his. “Good work,”

“General,” Quaritch nods, holding eye contact.

“There’s something more I want you to do, however,” She continues, an unsettling smile crossing her thin lips. “I need you to mate with the hostile, to bind her to you. We need her to be completely under our control,”

“Pardon?” His ears slick back against his skull so fast it almost hurts.

“You would have no problem with that, would you, Colonel? By the looks of it, you might already be bedding the female,” The smirk on the General’s face reminds him of a swindler back on Earth.

“I’m not sure I get what you’re referring to, General,” He doesn’t know what else to say, the implication, one he doesn’t want to even consider.

“Oh, come now, Colonel,” Ardmore starts, “She’s exotic for sure, the adoptive mother of your predecessor’s child, and in your new, young body, I'm sure you’ve got certain… biological needs. I’ve been willing to turn a blind eye to those needs as long as it hasn’t interfered with your mission,”

“I have not and will not mate with the native, General.” For long moments the room falls silent, the two of them staring at each other.

“Then I suggest you find someone who will,” The General leaned forward, her beady eyes narrowing as she scowled at him. “Or I will find that someone for you.”

Nodding, Quaritch doesn’t say anything before he’s dismissed. Leaving the General’s office, he wanders the halls of Bridgehead city as his mind races. Just the mere thought of finding someone to mate with you sent his blood boiling, his tail whipping angrily behind him as he walked. There wasn’t a recom that was worthy of you, yet, he had to choose between them, take their and your freedom away for the sake of control. Could he even do that to you? A darker side of him clearly said yes, stating that the mission was more important than any one individual. But a stronger side of him told him that even the human Quaritch built strong bonds, bonds that would never be broken because his loyalty was unwavering. Unless you had betrayed him, he would walk through the jungles of Pandora at night for you without a second thought. He took care of his own, so why was this any different?

The thought of binding you to him, to make you unhappy made his stomach turn. He couldn’t do that any more than he could mate you off with someone who would make you equally unhappy. This would be the hardest decision of his life, one where there would be no satisfactory result. The better of two evils… Sighing deeply, he decides to let it go for now. There would be no decision made today anyway. He mostly managed to hide from you the rest of the day, only getting caught when he needed to eat or needed a word with Lyle. He somehow always managed to weasel away though, but by the time night fell over Bridgehead city once more, your patience seemed to ebb out. Your voice was sharp as you called for him, but like a coward, he slammed his door shut before you could reach it, a sorry “No time, sweetheart,” thrown back to you.

He was certain that you would take one look at him and just know. Know that he would seal your future happiness away, rob it from you like a… like the sky demon, the very monster your people thought him to be. Flopping onto his bed, Quaritch sighs deeply as he stares up at the ceiling. His datapad dings and he just knows that it’s Lyle checking in on him. Rubbing his eyes roughly, Quaritch turns around in his bed, smushing his face into the bedding. It smells of you and immediately his anxiety and stress mellow out, evaporating from his body like the morning fog. In the back of his mind, he wants to hold you close, to breathe you in while he wraps himself around you. Shaking his head at his ridiculousness he turns around on his back. He would take Spider out in the morning and when they returned, he would take you out for a way overdue heart-to-heart.

Knocking on your door the next day Quaritch waits patiently before your voice sounds from the other side before opening the door. Your eyes look tired as you stare up at him, but instead of the annoyed lecturing he’s expecting from you, you just smile gently at him.

“Good morning, ma’am,” He greets formally, devoid of all emotions.

“Good morning,” You repeat, uncertainty entering your features as he continues to stare at you.

“I’m taking Spider flying today,” Quaritch informs you, watching disappointment spread over your face.

“Are you well?” You look up at him, hope entering your beautiful eyes.

“I am well,” He replies, biting his tongue hard before he says something more, something entirely stupid.

The silence stretches for an uncomfortably long time, long enough for Spider to walk up to you, a questioning look on his face before he crosses his arms and stares up at Quaritch - taking your side even though he doesn’t know what’s going on between the two of you. Chuckling at the ridiculousness, Quaritch throws his hands up in surrender. It’s enough for Spider to uncross his arms and look up at his mother.

“Go with your sempul, my dearest,” You tell Spider, and oh - Quaritch recognizes that word.

“I know that word,” He mumbles, his mind blank, while his ears turn attentively toward you, “Sempul, it means…”

He can’t help his eyes from growing big. You were acknowledging him as Spider’s father, even though you rejected his advances, even though he had pushed you away to lick his wounded pride. Even though he knew you were disappointed with him, you found it in your heart to give him this, not for your own gain, but for his happiness. You smile gently up at him while ushering Spider towards him.

“Have a nice day,” You tell him before turning to your son - your son, his, and yours - “Be careful, okay?”

Staring at you for a moment longer, you just smile gently at him, the silence no longer uncomfortable. You’re letting him come to you when he’s ready, once more surprising him with your patience. He doesn’t want to leave, but Lyle is walking up behind him, Z-Dog in tow, and then he turns and walks away, following his son as he chats animatedly while they walk toward the hangar. Securing him to Cupcake’s back, they eventually take off, leaving you and Bridgehead city behind. As morning turns into day, he leads his unit to explore the shorelines for any sighting of either the Sully family or the insurgency, while Spider excitedly tests his Na’vi. To say he’s not doing as well as he’d like to, would be the understatement of the year. Even though he’s here with his son, his mind is still miles and miles away.

“Okay, this one; I see you,” Spider grins up at him while doing the hand gesture that follows the phrase.

“Oel naati kameie,” Quaritch pronounces, hand gesture and everything, just the way you and Spider had taught him.

“Ngati - ngati,” Spider repeats with fond laughter in his voice, a big smile plastered on his face as he looks up at him.

“That's what I just said, isn’t it?” He has to ask, feeling that he nailed the pronunciation near perfectly. “Oel ngaati kameie,”

“Not naati - ngati,” His son twists his body towards him, placing his small hand on Quaritch’s knee. It’s so small against the blue of his skin.

“Ngaa… Ngaaa-ti, alright. Like comin' out your nose or something - ati,” He thinks he got it this time, Spider’s guidance a big help when it came to the nasal stuff. Somehow, you always skipped this one rather quickly, your eyes never really meeting his. He made a note to ask Spider if it had another meaning to the Na’vi.

“Boss,” Lyle cracks through the comms, pulling him out of his thoughts, “Long-range parole picked up a radar ahead, a rogue gunship,”

“Where?” Immediately, his mind starts racing. This had to be Sully and if it wasn’t, it would be heading toward him.

“Eastern sea, four clicks north,” Their course is set before he even thinks.

“Uh-huh…” Quaritch hums, his head dipping as his Corporal reads his intentions. Leaning to the left, he holds onto Spider’s small body as Cupcake shifts direction, “Hang on,”

Flying back to Bridgehead, he lets Spider wait with his unit while he takes Lyle with him to the ops center where General Ardmore is waiting for them. The glass of the holofloor slaps beneath his bare feet as he crosses the floor, the sound loud even in the noisy room. The General isn’t pleased with not having direct coordinates, but she knew as well as everyone that even getting this much of a pointer was a gift - she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

With the green light for a fleet and aircrafts, Quritch’s hyperfocus sneaks up on him once more. There’s nothing in his mind but Jake Sully and his wife while he prepares for the new mission. Almost nothing. While he moved, he felt like your eyes were watching him from every corner, judging him. He could hear your voice in his head, begging him, pleading with him to stop. But Quaritch couldn’t stop. Hunting down Jake Sully was the only reason he was brought back in this form, he would not fail his mission twice. If not for the RDA, then for himself.

His unit was a band of misfits, a pack… a dysfunctional family. Once someone was accepted, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for them. Families stick together, through tough times, through real hardship. And alright, maybe he could have handled the Sully situation differently, maybe he should have listened to Ja when he told him to be more understanding of the situation. But he hadn’t. He put his neck on the chopping block for Jake, gave him time he initially didn’t have, and all for what? For him to turn around and spit in his face, to betray the family - to betray him.

Marching Spider to the Ikran’s, Quaritch knew that this was wrong, knew that when you realized they weren’t coming back later that day, you would move the very foundation Bridehead was built upon to find your son once more - and when you did, he would have no more favors with you. Looking back in the direction of your room, he takes a deep breath before turning back to mount Cupcake. Getting a good grip on her handle, he makes tsaheylu, feeling her nervousness through the connection.

“What about mom?” Spider asks as they take off and for a little while, Quaritch doesn’t know what to say.

“Something’s come up, kid. You’ll get to see her tomorrow,” He doesn’t know if it’s a lie or not. Depending on what happens once they hit the island groups, they might be gone for more than just a day.

Meeting Scoresby, Quaritch immediately knew what kind of guy he had to deal with. The guy was as slimy as mankind came, living only to gain, damning everything in his way. It’s easy enough to convince the guy to play along though, something Lyle found hilarious enough to repeat to the whole unit once they gathered around for supper.

“You should have heard him!” Lyle wheezes, before doing the worst overly dramatic impression of himself that he’s ever heard before, “I’ll be nice, once - then I won’t,”

It has the desired effect though when smiles and chuckles spread across his unit. Even Spider huffs a chuckle while he eats. It soothes something deep within him to see his son smile again. Ever since leaving in a haste earlier that day, he had been down, keeping quiet and more reserved than usual. Sighing to himself, Quaritch promises himself that he will bring his son back to his mother again the next day.

But with most plans Quaritch makes, the mission doesn’t go as planned. He brought Spider with them to translate in the water villages, the kid being much less trouble than his mother, therefore an easier target to play for their gain. Which was a good thing. The Olo’eyktan speaks way too quickly for him to understand what he’s saying, his accent making it harder for Quaritch to make out the words. More than once, he finds himself looking at Spider while desperately waving his hand for his son to translate.

“Now what, what’s he saying,” He urges Spider, frowning as the leader keeps talking.

“They never saw him. These are sea people, forest people don’t come here,” Spider hurries the translation along, his son so obviously distressed.

“I ain’t buying that,” Quaritch sneers, looking back at the kneeling man before him.

Quaritch is used to playing hard to get what he wants from people who don’t want to give him anything, used to methods unfit for children's eyes. Hyperfocused as he is on finding Jake Sully, he forgets just that. He forgets that his son bears witness to him ordering the death of a sea creature, forgets that his teenage son is standing right there, desperately translating while he orders the death of the Tsahìk unless they give up Sully’s location. It’s only when his Spider starts begging him directly, eyes filled with unshed tears as his voice quivers with fear, that he breaks the surface of his hyperfocused insanity once more. By then, it’s way too late to go back.

He burns down three villages that first day…

Chapter 10 | Masterpost | Chapter 12

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effortandmore · 1 year

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worth all your while (ch.2) | knj x reader

chapter summary: you don't have to wait for long to hear from namjoon, which is great except your sister and your best friend won't shut up about it. (or: there is lots of texting, some phone sex, and we meet seokjin!)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: smut, fluff, light angst, au: famous, but not an idol

chapter warnings: smut, way too much texting, swearing, alcohol. here are the specific smut tags for this chapter: mutual masturbation, phone sex, namjoon calls you baby because ofc he does, discussion of cunnilingus

chapter word count: ~6.9k (total 12.4k)

a/n: i was going to be awesome and format the texting properly, but i am inherently lazy, so here you go. thanks to @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for looking this over. love you both.

previous chapter | next chapter | read on ao3

It’s not even close to two weeks before you hear from Namjoon.

When you finally touch down in the United States after your stupidly long layover in London, you turn your phone back on to a slew of messages. Your mom, wondering why you haven’t called to update her (because it’s not like she could check your flight status herself or anything), your sister asking if you still want a ride or if you’ll just rent a car, your editor wanting to know if you can resend your last revisions on your most recent article because in 36 hours he’d managed to delete the email permanently somehow… and then two texts standing out from the rest — no contacts listed, just two Korean numbers. One just looks to be a link.

You click that one first while you wait by the baggage claim for your suitcase that’s going to take ages to show up. All it says is, “please sign,” with the link below. It feels like balls of yarn are being unfurled in your chest, rolling haphazardly around as your nerves kick up. You know what it is, you knew it was coming, but it still feels strange that it’s real. There’s a short-ish contract on the other side of the docusign link, and you know you should read it carefully, but it just seems… overwhelming. With a deep breath, you close the window and go back to your messages, opening the one from the other unknown number.

Unknown [17:20]: Hi… I hope your flight was okay. You should have the thing to sign. I promise there’s nothing weird in there, but take your time 🙂

You shouldn’t find the fact that he texts like your grandmother endearing, but you immediately do. The smile on your face tells you everything you need to know—you’re looking at your screen with the dopiest grin and starting to realize you’re maybe in a little trouble.

You [22:11]: so, no weird stuff?

Namjoon [22:11]: Hi! You landed. And no, no weird stuff

You [22:12]: why aren’t you asleep yet?

Namjoon [22:13]: Too excited to sleep

You [22:13]: excited about the hockney?

Namjoon [22:14]: That too 😉

You’re fucked.

It’s not until later, when you’re safe and sound at your childhood home, blankets tucked up around you in the bed you slept in for seventeen years of your life, that you reply to him.

You [01:03]: cute

When he doesn’t answer right away, you have to force yourself to not overthink it—both of you just traveled literally around the world, and he’s probably asleep, which is something you should be too if you want to have any hope of enjoying the next couple of days. You pull a sleep mask on, stick your headphones in, and fall asleep to a podcast you’ve never heard of. As you drift off, you think you probably already know what your dreams will be about.

The next few days are a whirlwind. You sign the NDA when you wake up at some god-forsaken hour of the morning on the first day. Turns out, once it’s done, you feel a lot better. You won’t have to think about it again, and for some inexplicable reason, you know you can trust Namjoon when he says ‘no weird stuff,’ although you’re dying to know what he thinks would constitute ‘weird’ that isn’t fucking a journalist in an airport bathroom on a whim.

Over breakfast, your mom and sister fill you in on the activities you’ll be expected to participate in over the week, in advance of your sister’s wedding. There are dress fittings, last minute visits to confirm details with the wedding planner, a family-only brunch, a rehearsal dinner, a bachelorette party…

The list goes on until your Cheerios are gone and you’re feeling more overwhelmed than you were before you fell asleep. But your sister looks even worse off than you, her eyes a little wide and her hands a little shaky around her coffee mug, and you wish you knew what to say to make her feel better, but you’ve got no idea how to put yourself in her shoes.

The whole marriage thing hasn’t even been on your radar as you’ve chased school, graduate school, work in the states, work in Korea… always more more more, trying to prove something to yourself. What that something is, you don’t even know. But it’s kept you busy enough that it’s been ages since you let yourself fall into anything serious—preferring friends with benefits and just plain friends to the hassles of an actual relationship. And based on the way your sister looks like she might crawl out of her own skin with apprehension, you think you’ve probably made the right choices.

Your phone buzzes on the table, drawing your attention away from your mother’s long list of tasks.

Namjoon [08:06]: You think I’m cute?

You [08:06]: have you looked in a mirror lately?

You stare at the screen as you wait for a response. He’s been quick so far, so you wonder what’s got him pausing, those three imposing dots coming off and on the screen a few times before you finally get a message.

Namjoon [08:09]: Actually, yeah. There’s a great one in the lounge at Heathrow…

Oh, fuck. The heat traveling up your neck is instant, all your thoughts immediately go to that stupid bathroom and the look on his face when he came; jaw slack, eyes dark, bottom lip pulled under his teeth… You feel like you might combust at the breakfast table.

“Honey?”

Your head snaps up from your phone and you see your sister and your mom both staring at you.

“Huh? Sorry!” You fumble with your phone and lock the screen, turning it to silent before you put it back on the table—face down of course. “Work stuff.”

Lucky for you, it seems you’ve found the key to alleviating your sister’s stress, as her worried frown turns into a knowing smirk. “You must have dedicated colleagues! Isn’t it like… midnight in Seoul?”

To cover your panic, you take a long drink of your coffee and nod. “Yep, I got so lucky with this job,” you choke out.

“Mmhmm,” she murmurs, thankfully not pushing it in front of your mom, who has already re-launched into super-party-planner mode. You exchange sympathetic glances with your sister, neither of you with the heart to tell your mother that she should just relax and let the wedding planner handle things.

There is so much to do in advance of a wedding, you really had no idea. It makes you feel guilty about most of the judgmental thoughts you’ve ever had when attending other peoples’. Everyone must just be doing their best, you think, as you watch your sister get poked and pulled and sucked in and tucked into her (absolutely stunning) dress.

The shop is a small boutique one, way fancier than you’ve ever imagined yourself in. Your sister has always been kind of like that, though. She likes to have nice things, dress nicely, live up to all the expectations your parents had of the both of you. Sometimes, you think you do as well, maybe not with designer clothes and a rich fiance, but you have a good job that you’re passionate about and you’re happy—even if sometimes a little lonely. Parents always say that’s what they want for their kids above all else, so by that standard, you’re nailing it.

Turns out, dress fittings take an exhaustingly long time. You’ve been sitting on the chaise outside the changing room for what feels like days, and it seems like she’s not even close to being finished. More champagne would be in order, but it’s still daylight and you don’t know how much day drinking you can get away with while you’re sitting next to your high-strung mother and your sister’s even-higher-strung future mother-in-law.

The temptation to look at your phone is too high to resist, so you put your champagne flute down and check your messages for the first time since breakfast.

Namjoon [11:31]: Was that too much?

Namjoon [14:27]: It was too much. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just can’t stop thinking about you.

Namjoon [14:29]: That probably sounds creepy. Forget I said that. Can you delete text messages? It’s 2022 for the love of god.

Namjoon [14:34]: Please just ignore all of this, okay? I’m totally chill about everything, I promise.

You [15:06]: imagine what the locals would say if they knew RM was a quadruple texter

Namjoon [15:06]: I fucked this up, didn’t I?

You [15:07]: no, you’re good. still cute

Namjoon [15:07]: Would it be weird if I said I wanted to call you?

You [15:08]: not weird, sounds nice actually, but i’m at a wedding dress shop so maybe later?

Namjoon [15:09]: …You’re where?

You [15:09]: a wedding dress shop - my sister’s getting married this weekend

Namjoon [15:10]: Your sister! Cool!

You [15:10]: yes, very cool to be subjected to a week of my mother acting like a clinically insane person. anyway, i can call later if you’re around

Namjoon [15:11]: I might be, let me know when you’re free

You [15:11]: will do - you’re probably busy. what’re you up to, anyway?

Namjoon [15:11]: Nothing much

You [15:12]: okay, man of mystery 🙄 keep your secrets, then

Namjoon [15:12]: It’s really nothing. You’d be surprised how boring I can be

When you slide your phone back into your bag and look up, your mother is practically boring holes in the side of your head with her death glare. On the pedestal in front of you, your sister looks like an actual angel, and instead of glaring at you, she’s smirking again.

“What?” you ask both of them.

“What’s so important you need to have your nose glued to that screen?” your mom asks impatiently.

“Nothing, just more work stuff.” You’re obviously lying, and they both probably know it.

“I wish I had a job like yours,” your sister teases.

“Shut up,” you mumble under your breath. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Thanks.” She blushes and turns to look at her reflection. “It’s pretty wild, right? Me getting married…”

“It’s perfect,” you assure her. “We’re all so happy for you.”

You don’t find time to call Namjoon later that day, your mom keeping you busy with wedding-related chores until you need to start getting ready for your sister’s bachelorette party. It’s got you sort of on edge—you think you’ve been pretty calm in your texts with him, but inside you’re a livewire, all the curiosity and excitement of something new has you some combination of interested and skeptical.

Once you’re ready, makeup on and squeezed into your small dress, you’re still waiting for your sister. She’s on the floor cross-legged in front of your full-length mirror doing her own makeup and swearing lightly under her breath. You’re not the only one with low-grade anxiety this week, it seems. On your phone, you find a playlist you think seems fun enough to get you in the mood to make questionable choices and carefree enough to distract you both from your current worries.

“This okay?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” she says, eyeing you from the mirror. “You look good, sis.”

“Thanks. Been looking for a reason to wear this and I don’t get out much in Seoul.” The leather dress is impossibly short, in no way work-appropriate, and the only functions you go to where you could get away with it happen to be the ones you’re on the clock for. So it’s been hanging in your closet since the time you bought it on an optimistic whim, reminding you of the fun you’re not having most nights.

“Seems like you got out somewhere,” she observes, flicking a mascara wand over her lashes. “You should send him a selfie, your tits are top-tier in that.”

Your eyes roll so far back in your head you momentarily wonder if they’ll center themselves again. “I’m not going to send him a thirst trap.”

She cackles at that. “Hah! So, there is a him to send it to! I knew it!”

Fuck, she’s good. “Fuck off.”

“You have to be nice to me, it’s my night.”

“I’m your sister, I never have to be nice to you.”

“Quit arguing and send him a picture, dummy. If you don’t, I'll wait until you’re drunk later and send him something embarrassing from your phone.”

“You would never…” But you know she would. She’s done worse. She pins you with a look that says exactly that, so you sigh and pick up your phone, angling to get the picture right, fluffing up your hair a little and trying the pouting thing that other people always make look cute. You’re not sure it works for you, but she seems convinced when you show her the first couple shots.

“It’s really not like that with him,” you protest. “It was probably just a one-time thing.”

“You usually spend whole afternoons giggling into your phone like a teenager with your one-night stands?” she teases.

And that is a good point… Sort of a good one. You’re not sure what’s going on with Namjoon, but he did text you first, and often, and kind of enthusiastically, so maybe he meant it when he said he wanted to see you again. At least sending a selfie might be a good way to test the waters.

“Okay, fine. Which one?” you ask, handing her your phone.

She points at one where you think you look the most desperate, but she calls it ‘sexy,’ so you go with it.

His response is immediate.

Namjoon [21:20]: Holy shit

You flush and show her the phone, and in turn she claps and bounces around like the endearing weirdo she is. She’s always been your biggest cheerleader.

You [21:21]: bachelorette party outfit - looks okay?

Namjoon [21:21]: Incredible. How do I get an invite to this party?

You [21:21]: it’s very exclusive, sorry

Namjoon [21:22]: What a tease

And you’re sure you’re about to reply with something witty and sexy and fun, but instead, your sister snatches your phone and shuts it off. “Time to go,” she says. “You can sext later.”

“I am not… I would never—” you sputter as she laughs maniacally and pulls you up off the bed.

“We really need to leave, but you can tell me all about him on the way to the club.”

Turns out, a limo full of your sister’s friends with countless bottles of champagne means you do not tell her all about him on the way to the club. Nor do you when you’re at the club, dancing until you can’t feel your calves and drinking more pink cocktails than you’d ever known to exist. You don’t know your sister’s friends too well, but they’re fun: loud, excitable, supportive… You have a great time… maybe too great of a time, since your headache starts kicking in before you even get your coat back.

While the rest of them continue drinking (mixing new kinds of liquors in on the ride back to the hotel you’re all staying at), you grab water from the mini bar and painkillers from your purse and start the delicate work of trying to make sure you can function in the morning. It wouldn’t be so bad, except you promised you’d meet Seokjin for coffee in the morning, and you haven’t seen him in ages.

It’s much later—and you’re painfully sober—when you crawl into your hotel room bed and flick your phone back on so you can set an alarm for your coffee date. It’s a part of the morning you haven’t seen in a really long time; you’re going to feel like shit when you have to get up in a handful of hours, but your sister seemed to have a great time, so it was worth it. You check your messages, and if it’s only because you see you have one from Namjoon, that’s nobody’s business but yours.

Namjoon [00:12]: What is it about you in a dress? I can’t think straight since you sent that. You’re making me crazy, you know?

God, you really like him. You feel the same way he does, like he’s making you lose your mind a little bit. It’s all so strange and fast, but easy, too. All you want to do is get through this wedding and get back to Seoul so you can see him properly. Even just to talk again. It sounds stupid maybe, but you really liked talking to him in that airport. He’s clever and quick and kind… he’s just everything. And it seems like maybe, maybe, maybe he might think something similar about you for whatever reason.

It’s not fair, the timing of this whole thing.

The next morning, you drag yourself out of bed and through a shower and your skincare routine. The coffee shop you’re headed to is close to the hotel, so you walk, hoping some fresh air will help the foggy feeling in your head from the poor choices you made the night before.

It sort of does, but you still feel awful until you clock Seokjin sitting at a table in front of the shop, one big, sugary (if you know him at all, which you do) drink in his hand, and one bigger, but less-sugary (if he knows you at all) drink on the table opposite him.

“Jinnie!”

You practically launch yourself at him when you approach, and he squeaks out his surprise before pulling you into a tight hug.

“You look like shit,” he whispers into your ear.

That earns him a slap on the shoulder. “I’ve missed you too, brat. You, of course, don’t look like shit. Thanks for the coffee.” You sit and take a drink. It’s perfect. “It’s perfect.”

“Of course it is,” he says smugly.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, kiddo.”

“Thanks for coming to the wedding with me.”

“Are you kidding? Your sister has great taste—I wouldn’t miss it.”

Kim Seokjin has been your best friend since… Well, since you can remember. He grew up down the street from you, and one day, he offered you a chocolate milkshake out of the blue when you were riding by on your bike. You accepted, quickly realized that it was not, in fact, a milkshake, but dirt mixed with a careful proportion of water. You spit it out, screamed and panicked, and Seokjin just laughed… and laughed and laughed. The next thing you realized was that his laugh was like a drug, and you sort of wanted to hear it all the time. So from then on, the two of you were inseparable. You made it a life goal to drag as much laughter out of him as possible, and he offered it freely and often.

Since you were kids, you’ve been there for all of each other’s firsts. He comforted you through your first breakup, you coached him through his first kiss, you were study buddies in high school, and then in college. You worked for free at his restaurant off and on when you graduated, knowing that his parents had basically chanced their retirement on his success, and by then, they were your family too.

And now, he’s agreed to be your date to your sister’s wedding, since you almost never have any solid romantic prospects, and he never turns down a free meal. Or your company, but he’d probably not admit that out loud.

“How’ve you been, my sweet, big-shot chef?”

The tips of his ears flush pink, and it’s a tell that he’s got good stuff to share, so you settle in and listen.

“—and that’s when I knew I liked her,” he says as he wraps up the sort of life recap you do when you’ve known someone forever and they can fill in some of the gaps themselves.

“When she fell down the stairs because you scared the shit out of her?”

“No, when she laughed about it.”

You nod knowingly. Seokjin has always liked people who don’t take themselves too seriously. People who can take a joke and make themselves the joke when needed.

“She sounds lovely,” you say.

“Wanna see?” he asks, pulling out his phone.

His new girlfriend, in addition to apparently being clumsy, is fucking stunning. Of course she is, because Seokjin is fucking stunning, too. You hate that you immediately think they’d have the prettiest babies.

“We’re going to have cute kids,” he says, like he’s got a little radio tuned in permanently to your thoughts.

“That’s a big deal, Jinnie, to be thinking about kids.”

He flushes even deeper and sinks into his seat a little, running a hand through his fluffy hair. “I think she might be it, you know?”

“Shit.”

“Shit, indeed,” he agrees, nodding into his coffee. “How about you?”

You huff out a breath and shake your head. “Nothing new, really. Just a lot of work.”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know?”

“What?” “I already talked to your sister, she told me there’s a guy.”

You’ll never survive this visit home, you think. Your eyes are going to get stuck facing inwards after all the rolling and you’re going to possibly commit murder. You can see the headlines now, “local girl kills gossipy sister and best friend day before absurdly extravagant wedding.”

“There’s not a guy,” you mutter. “It’s not a thing.”

“So there’s not a guy? Or, there is a guy and it’s not a thing? Or, there is a guy and there might be a thing, but you think if you let yourself be excited about it you’ll jinx it or something equally as stupid?”

This fucking guy. Thinks he knows you.

“Option three, I think,” you mumble. He does know you.

Mercifully, Seokjin lets it go when you say you’re not ready to talk about it. Your coffee goes fast, and you spend the afternoon doing a whole lot of nothing with him; you wander up and down the streets of your city, window shopping, catching up on all the gossip he has about people you went to high school with. You end up with very little time to get ready for your sister’s rehearsal dinner, which seems to bother Seokjin more than it bothers you.

He whines to no one in particular as he fixes his hair in your bathroom, you pull on the floral-patterned dress that you don’t like but your mom told you to wear, and you dig out the color-coordinated tie you’d bought for your date.

“You shouldn’t have,” he says, when he comes out of the bathroom and sees you holding the pastel tie up.

“You know how my mom is,” you say.

“Taste in clothing worse than her taste in men?”

“Just wear the tie, Jinnie.”

He does wear the tie, and at dinner, your mom coos over how nice you look together, which quickly turns into her complaining that you can “never just find a nice guy like Seokjin,” and “isn’t it a shame that you two never dated,” she laments to your aunt. Your aunt, properly drunk as she usually is and as one should be at these kinds of things, takes this as an opportunity to shamelessly flirt with your best friend, who flushes pink and laughs a high-pitched, uncomfortable kind of laugh. He flips you off behind his back when you excuse yourself to get a drink and leave him alone with your would-be-cougar relative.

All in all, the night goes well, and you and Seokjin both end up having fun. You dance like idiots after dinner, you say nice things in front of everyone about your sister and her fiance, and Seokjin gives you a dramatic standing ovation after your speech, which should be awkward but is hilarious instead. You stumble out of the restaurant together when it’s over, both a little tipsy, and share a cab back to your mom’s house to try and get some sleep before the wedding the next day.

Once you have him all set up in the guest room with a quiet, “Goodnight, Jinnie” (because he’s asleep almost the instant his head hits the pillow), you head to your own room.

When you’re settled in bed, you decide you should probably check your work email, and maybe reply to Namjoon.

You [22:45]: glad you liked the dress - did you have a good day?

His reply comes after you’ve switched over to shooting off quick replies to some time-sensitive email in your inbox.

Namjoon [22:52]: Pretty good, saw the Hockney 😍 You?

You [22:57]: was it everything you thought it would be? i’m good, saw my best friend

Namjoon [22:57]: It was better. Did you tell her about me?

You [22:58]: nda remember? and he. he’s a he

You send him a picture you took of you and Seokjin at the dinner, one where he’s making a stupid face and you’re rolling your eyes at him. You both look silly, but happy.

Namjoon [22:58]: Lucky guy

You [23:00]: that’s seokjin - i’ve known him my whole life

Namjoon [23:01]: Googles: how to be a seokjin. You look beautiful, btw

You [23:01]: please, i know you’re using naver - you’re ridiculous

Namjoon [23:02]: Ridiculously handsome? Ridiculously interesting? Ridiculously into this girl I met through work

You actually stifle a quiet scream into your pillow at that. Who the fuck talks like that? He’s such a strange combination of awkward and forward and you think you might be more into that than you’d expected. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to say that. Just so he knows he’s not alone…

You [23:04]: crazy, i’m pretty into this guy i met through work

Namjoon [23:04]: 😁

It’s incredible how he can be so… dorky like this, when you’ve seen him on stage and he’s… not that when he’s performing. You think you like this side even more than the other. The best of both worlds, you decide.

You [23:05]: goodnight, namjoon

Namjoon [23:05]: Goodnight ❤️

It’s just a stupid emoji, but you honestly think you might combust. You want to run down the hall and shake Seokjin awake and show him the whole chain of messages, and it takes all of your willpower (and the fact that you literally signed something saying you wouldn’t) to not do that.

That night, you dream of Seoul, maybe a sign that you’re missing your new home a little. You miss gray skies and cozy cafes and the constant thrumming of the city around you. You dream of those things with a blurry-faced Namjoon by your side—you and Namjoon knocking shoulders on the sidewalk in Sinchon, you and Namjoon sipping coffee in the shop you like in Hongdae. When you wake up, you feel nostalgic for things you haven’t yet done, that you’ve only experienced in dreams. It’s a soft feeling, warm and comforting, and you realize you’re a little excited to get back and see if you can turn those dreams into something real.

But first, you have a wedding to attend, and a best friend down the hall who will be an absolute monster if you don’t get up and help him make some breakfast soon.

Your sister’s wedding is beautiful. She’s stunning, her new husband is practically giddy, and you decide you’d like that kind of love someday, where it practically radiates out of you, where it’s unmistakable to anyone lucky enough to bear witness. Their vows are simple and sweet, your mom cries, then Seokjin cries and you snap a picture to use as blackmail later.

You dance, you facetime with Seokjin’s girlfriend, who is every bit as lovely as he’d described her, you don’t drink much because you want to make sure you’re coherent and available for your sister if she needs anything. They cut the cake just after nine in the evening, and by eleven, you’ve made sure a drunk-ish Seokjin is safely in a taxi on the way to his girlfriend. Shortly thereafter, you toss flower petals over your sister and her husband as they make their exit, and your duties for the evening are complete.

When you finally make it home, you crawl into a warm bath, hoping to give your calves some relief from three nights of too-tall heels and too much bad dancing. You’re scrolling through instagram, checking out some pictures of a gallery show you’re dying to get to back in Seoul, when your phone rings.

“Hi.” You grab your headphones to answer, and your voice is a little shaky when you speak quietly—you’re not sure why you’re so nervous.

“Hey,” Namjoon says. “Is this okay? To call you?”

“Wouldn’t have answered if it weren’t probably.”

You hear him give a breathy laugh. “How was the wedding?”

“Good. Really good, actually. I think she’s really happy,” you say.

“Sounds like you’re smiling,” he says. You are, and it sounds like he’s smiling when he says it, too.

There’s a pause where neither of you speak. You can hear he has music playing wherever he is, something soft, with a steady beat. It sounds like something you’d like, maybe some kind of Japanese lofi hip hop…

“Is that Nujabes?” you ask.

“You know him?”

“Of course I do.”

“God, I think I lo—uh… nevermind. Yeah, it’s him. I listen to Modal Soul a lot when I travel. It’s relaxing.”

You nod against the edge of the tub even though he can’t see you. “Yeah, I get that.”

“So… what’re you up to?… That was lame, sorry… I guess I don’t really know how to do this.” He laughs at himself, and you laugh with him. He’s so goddamn cute you can’t hardly stand it.

“You don’t know how to talk on the phone?”

“Funny. Don’t know how to talk on the phone to the prettiest girl I know. Can’t believe you answered.”

“It’s your lucky night, I guess,” you joke. “Anyway, I’m not doing anything. Just camped out in the bath trying to wind down.” You hear him suck in a breath, and you wonder if you said something wrong. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah… Just… Can I be honest?”

“Of course you can.”

“Think my brain stopped working when you said you were in the bath.”

Heat rises in your cheeks; you hadn’t even considered it was sort of a strange confession to make. Or a forward one, anyway. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t be. Just sort of… wish I was there instead of here. Where I am. Which is not in the bathroom with you while you take a bath. Probably naked…” He trails off with a groan and then tacks on, more to himself than to you, “What is wrong with me?”

“It’s okay,” you say. “It’s nice to be… wanted, if that makes sense.”

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he replies quickly. “I hope that’s not too much.”

It’s not. You’re starting to think that it might never, ever be too much with him. Like he could talk and give and offer and you would always want, always take. It feels dangerous, how much you like him after so, so little. It scares you to think how far this could go, how deep you could get. Makes you wonder how much worse (better?) this will be when you’re in the same city again.

“It’s not. Sort of wish you were here, too.”

“Sort of?”

“Maybe just… not in a bathroom again.”

He laughs at that, some of the tension draining out of your phone call. You love the sound of his laugh in a different way than you love Seokjin’s, but it’s also the kind that makes you want to hear it more.

“Yeah, a proper bedroom would be nice,” he agrees. “Thought about it a lot,” he says, half under his breath, like he’s not sure he wants you to hear.

Your curiosity though… it gets the best of you. “Really? Thought about me like that?”

“Every night since London,” he says.

“Oh… wow. That’s…”

“Creepy?”

You laugh. “Hot. It’s hot, Joon.” Your bravery is back, or maybe it’s stupidity, but he opened the door, so you step through, your voice lowered. “Did you touch yourself?”

“Oh, fuck… Yeah, I did.” He lets out a little nervous-sounding whine and you can almost picture him rubbing the back of his neck like you’ve seen him do in person and on tv when he’s a little unsure of himself. “Thought of you, and… And I came so hard.”

It’s instant, the way your body reacts to that. You feel heat building low, your mouth even waters a little. It should be embarrassing, it should be weird. You don’t even really know him… But you want. “Bet you looked good,” you say, because it’s true, because you’ve seen what he looks like when he comes, you can’t stop thinking about what he looks like when he comes and wondering when you’ll get to see it again.

“Baby…” he breathes out. “Are we really doing this?”

“I think so,” you reply, your fingers skimming down your abdomen, dipping below the water so you can relieve just a little bit of the pressure building in your core. “If you want to.” Then you add, voice hushed. “I want to. Like it when you call me that.”

Through your headphones, you hear his breath catch, and then get a little heavier. “I like it, too… Are you… Are you touching yourself?”

“Mmhmm,” you confirm. “Feels good.”

Namjoon lets out a whimper. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Can’t believe you’re real. Can’t believe you want me.”

“Want you so much,” you whine, fingers moving across your clit, then down lower… You slide one inside, you’re slick with want, even underwater. “Want you to touch yourself, too.”

“Fuck, I want you, too. Wish I could get my mouth on you—bet you taste so good,” he says. “Can’t stop thinking about getting you in my bed, on your back, fucking you on my tongue.” His voice is a little shaky now, too, and you close your eyes, letting yourself imagine it’s his finger in you, his hand playing with one of your nipples. “I’d make you feel so good, baby.”

“Know you would… Already have…”

It’s almost perfect, the sound of his breath in your ear, just like it was at the airport, and you can almost feel it now, the way it felt then. You rub circles over your clit, one leg coming out of the water to rest on the edge of the bathtub; you just want more.

It’s almost enough, Namjoon’s breathy, short moans as he strokes himself on the other end of the line, your fingers working methodically…

But it’s not quite right… you keep thinking about how full you felt with his cock buried in you, how you’re not sure if anything else will ever be enough again. “Love the way you sound,” he says. “Want to hear you always…”

“It’s just… not enough. Want your cock…” you whine.

“Yeah? Needy girl… You take me so well,” he says, voice thick with want. “So tight… Felt so good for me…”

Your hand moves faster, you slip another finger in and gasp shallowly when you find your g-spot. For some reason, you remember when he called you a good girl in the airport—you wonder if you could use it to your advantage.

“Wish you were fucking me… I’d be so good for you, promise.”

Namjoon makes a choked sound and his breath quickens. “Know you would, baby… Always so good for me… Fuck, I’m so hard for you, want to be inside you,” he says. “I’m close already… Wish you were here, wish I could see you.”

“I’m close, too. Gonna come soon…please… ” Your thighs are starting to tremble and you feel your orgasm coming quickly—it’s going to be over too soon. You’re not even sure what you’re begging for.

“That’s it, baby… wanna hear you come for me… come on…” You know the urgency in his voice, a little desperate, like he’s falling apart the same way you are.

That thought has you coming, orgasm spreading a warm shiver through your whole body as your leg falls back in the water and you close your thighs, hand still moving carefully over your clit. You whisper his name, your head resting on the edge of the tub as you blink your eyes open.

“Fuck, you sound so good…” he says, almost pained, voice low and raspy.

“You do too, Joon. So, so good… Love hearing you like this…”

You know the instant it happens—his breath catches when he comes and you picture what he looks like… Probably so fucking good, and you wish you were with him and you want, want, want. Never enough… he makes you so greedy.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “You’re amazing… Turn me into a mess.”

You smile, starting to come back into your body a little. “You make me a mess, too… But I think I like it.”

“I like it, too,” he says.

“Good.”

Neither of you speaks for a while, and in the silence, you realize your bathwater is cool and your skin is pruning from being in there too long. You hope your mom had enough champagne to sleep through whatever splashing and whimpering you were doing. The thought of her hearing makes you laugh, and also want to crawl under a blanket and never come out.

“So…” Namjoon says, “Just another week or so until you’re in Seoul, right?”

“Mmhmm.” You pull the plug in the bath and watch the water start to swirl in a little whirlpool down the drain. A good metaphor for what Namjoon is doing to your inhibitions.

“You maybe… want to get a drink sometime?” It’s involuntary, the laugh you let out, and louder than you should. You slap a hand over your mouth and let yourself laugh silently into your palm. “What?” he asks.

“You. You are such a dork,” you say, grin obvious in your tone.

His is obvious, too. “Hey, now! I’m a famous rapper. People think I’m very tough.”

“And a dork,” you tease.

“And a dork,” he concedes. “I like you, you know.”

“I like you, too.”

“You sound tired. Going to sleep soon?”

“I think so. Long day. Good ending, though.”

Namjoon laughs. “The best. But messy. I should go clean up.”

“Okay… thanks for this.”

“Are you kidding?” he says, “I should be thanking you.”

“Guess you’re gonna have to buy me that drink.” You climb out of the tub and wrap yourself in one of your mom’s fluffy towels. You wonder how parents always have the softest towels. Even when you spend a lot of money, yours never live up to hers. Like she has some kind of towel magic.

“Can’t wait to buy you a drink, baby.” His voice is soft and kind and a little bit fucked out. It’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. He’s got some kind of magic, too, you think.

“Goodnight, Namjoon.”

“Goodnight.”

next chapter

#bts smut #bts fanfic #bts writing #namjoon smut #namjoon fic #namjoon imagine #bts imagines #bts fanfction #namjoon fanfiction #btswritersclub #kvanity

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bluecatwriter · 4 months

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A Blood of My Blood fic from Mina's point of view, taking place when Quincey is 11 or 12. (Domestic angst/fluff, pretty bittersweet.) Thanks as always to @ibrithir-was-here and @animate-mush for creating this sandbox for us to play in!

~~~

At one time, the broth she was making would have smelled wonderful to her.

It was odd, to be able to think such things. When she had first awoken, years ago, snarling and disoriented and in the grip of someone�� someone who had turned out to be her husband— she had no memory of Before. It had taken years for these memories of a different life, a different self, to return. She didn't particularly strive for them, since there was no sense in dwelling on her past, but sometimes they cropped up at odd moments. She had just dropped into the broth a handful of parsley and lovage, both from the herb garden her husband had grown in the courtyard of the castle, and something about the fragrant waft of steam gave her a memory. Yellow sunlight on a wall, humming some long-forgotten tune. Warmth. Memories of Before were always warm.

She had no desire to eat what she was cooking, though— the very thought turned her stomach. Usually her husband cooked for himself, but today he could not, and so she had found a recipe and made it step by painstaking step: slaughtering and plucking the chicken, boiling it once for the meat and a second time for the broth, adding paprika and cayenne and a pinch of precious dried lemon peel, brought by the serfs on their last delivery. Like all tasks, she went about it methodically. It was only a few days after the winter solstice, so the night was long and she had plenty of time to work.

She felt her son's presence before she saw him, and smiled as he popped his head in the window, upside down. He had been crawling lizard-fashion on the castle walls again. "Hello, Mum!" he said cheerfully.

She loved that her son had inherited her husband's ability to change and grow. His face was losing the chubby roundness of childhood, and he was growing lankier, though still just as skillful at skittering around the castle walls.

Where have you been all evening? she asked as she stirred the broth, projecting her thoughts to him.

"Sitting with Papa and reading to him," her son said, crawling into the window and hopping up on the stone counter. His expression faltered, his red eyes growing wide with worry. "He's… he's going to be all right, isn't he?"

Of course he is. My broth will cure him. She winked at him, and he laughed.

"I wish Papa didn't get sick! Why can't he be like us? It would be so much easier…"

She gave him a look, and he sighed. "I know, I know, if he was like us, we couldn't kiss him, and he likes kisses too much to change."

It was a silly explanation, left over from her son's early days when he was just starting to question why Papa was different. But she felt a strange reluctance to update the explanation.

She stirred the broth once more and decided that it would need to simmer now. Go back to your papa— he'll be lonely without you.

"All right, Mum." Her son left by the door this time, no doubt to grab a new book from the library on his way up to the room.

She walked to the window, looked out, and let her mind go blank.

It was easy to do, to think nothing at all, while staring at the midnight draped over the world. She could still touch her son's mind, feel vague emotions from him, as well as feel her husband's suffering as he tossed and turned on his bed, his fever burning him up.

Most of all, though, crackling like fire over everything else, was the mind of her lord.

She was not allowed to enter his thoughts— she had tried, once, early on, and he had chained her to a wall for three weeks as punishment, keeping her from her husband and her son until the ache of wanting them made her tear her flesh down to the bone trying to break free. She could not overpower him. She could not enter his thoughts without him noticing.

But here in the blankness, the fire of his mind seemed less harsh, and she tried out small thoughts, inconsequential thoughts, seeing if he would notice them. Seeing if he could truly rummage through everything in her mind, or if anything was hers to keep.

Of course, her lord considered nothing to be hers, and he made sure she was reminded at every turn. When they dined together on her husband, her lord made sure to eat first, to make her follow, to assure that she made no mark on him that he had not already made. And yet, she found a smug satisfaction in this, that her lord never left a mark that she did not erase with her own touch. Her husband would be still and dutiful at their lord's bite, but he melted against her own. Her lord has ultimate authority over them both, but her husband was still hers.

At last the broth was ready, and she focused her mind, imagined knocking on a door in the wall of flames. May I visit him? It was a formality at this point— her lord had not kept them apart in over three years now— but she knew that not doing it would have consequences.

The reply sounded almost bored. You may.

She dipped some broth into a large bowl and left the rest simmering on the hot stove. She walked up the endless stairways to the tower where he lived, knowing that she must not waste her energy on things like turning into mist, not when she must fast from the nourishment he gave her.

At last she came to his door and opened it. There was no lock on it, for her husband belonged in some way to everyone in the household. No one was barred access.

Her son was sitting beside him reading aloud, but closed the book when she entered. Her husband turned his head weakly, and she felt a ripple of frustration at the frailness of his body, the way that it was endangering him needlessly. She ordered her son to leave them alone, and he nodded, taking his father's wrist and giving it a bloodless bite to show affection before walking out.

She walked to his bedside and sat beside him, sliding an arm under him to pull him up. He shivered and had a hard time drinking the broth, but she made him take it, sip by sip. He sagged against her, and she stroked his forehead.

"My darling," he said, stuttering a bit with his shivers. "I think I'm dying."

If you must die, you must. It would happen eventually— he would rise again like them, without this pathetic body to drag him down.

"I— I don't want to. I want to raise our boy to manhood without…" He trailed off, but she knew his meaning.

We will be together. That is all that matters.

Her husband stared at her, and tried to smile. "You're right, you're right."

She hesitated, then situated them on the bed so that his head was resting on her lap, and she stroked her fingers through his hair. If it brings you comfort, you may close your eyes and pretend that I am a mortal woman. Pretend it is Before, and all the After has been a dream.

Her husband gulped. It had been a long time since she had soothed him this way. "I… I shouldn't…"

She frowned at him. Do not refuse me.

A faint smile of acceptance crossed his face, and he rested more deeply on her lap.

When you wake, she told him, weaving her fingers into the fine strands of his hair, you will either be well, or you will be like me. And either way, we will be together.

Her husband squeezed his eyes shut, tears spilling down his fever-flushed face. "Will… will you say my name as you stroke my hair?"

She smiled down at him indulgently. Jonathan.

"Mina…"

My Jonathan… The urge to sink her teeth into him, to express her love in lapping up his essence, was strong, but she was stronger. She petted his hair and spoke his name in her thoughts, playacting the doting human wife who had no loyalty to any but him.

Her husband seemed to be drifting to sleep, but then murmured, "It's Christmas, you know."

Her hand paused, the word from Before stinging her, but then she continued stroking his hair.

His eyes closed, tears still drying on his face, her husband began to sing softly. "What child is this/who laid to rest/on Mary's lap is sleeping?/Whom angels keep/with anthems sweet/while shepherds watch are keeping?"

She grew still; the words, cracked and almost silent, sent a shiver through her. She remembered candlelight, and the smell of incense, and a figurine of a baby in straw. The mark on her forehead tingled.

Her husband was asleep now, and she held him, staring through the window at the night sky dotted with stars.

~~~

#blood of my blood #jonmina #my writing #mina harker #jonathan harker #quincey harker #dracula (novel)

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izicodes · 11 months

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I want to get into coding but I’m scared about working for a company and talking to people lol and I don’t think I’m creative enough. what do meetings and the job consist of? i have this assumption in the back of my mind like “what more is there to say/do other than code a website?” haha hope this is ok to ask! it’s super vague tbh I can’t find anything that touches base to a specific level enough online.

also, I’m not a math genius… very insecure about that since high/middle school. do I still have a chance? how does math go into coding?

Hiya! 💗

I completely understand how you feel because I felt the exact same thing when I started working at my current workplace.

Working for a company

Many coding jobs do require collaboration and communication with others. However, it's important to remember that not all coding roles involve extensive social interaction. There are positions where you can work independently or have limited interaction with colleagues.

In my case, I work in the office Monday and Friday. Mondays are when everyone in the whole IT Department is in, except those who are off or on holiday etc. This is what I do:

I walk in

sit at my desk near the window

headphones in

code - occasionally turn around and annoy the Lead Web Developer with cries because my code isn't working (he then solves it in 10 seconds...)

At around 2:30pm is an IT meeting in the conference room. What do we discuss?

IT manager discusses any updates as an IT department as a whole. Any concerns about the technology used in the company. Any bootcamps we need to do internally, how was everyone's holidays, a little gossip.

Then everyone takes turns and discuss what they did the past week

That's it.

That's my company but I assume it's something similar for other companies. It's also important to know not everyone in the IT Department are web developers or work on building websites, not even in the sub-department Dev Team. Our Dev team are 6 members and only 2 (me and the Lead Web Developer) are web developers, so work on the company's websites. The other guys are very script-building and database oriented. All I do is code websites.

Maths in coding

Depends on what you're coding. I work with websites, I use Year 11/Grade 10 level of maths - it's not hard. As a reference, I stopped learning maths as a subject at school at a Year 13/12th Grade level and the stuff I'm using is way easier than what I learnt last - stuff my little sister, who's 14, can understand.

I chose web development because of the little maths. Some people have told me "Oh you'll encounter it one day" - I still haven't after 2 years. I use C# and JavaScript at work and still do very little maths. Maybe loops? I know if you're going to study computer science at university you will have to learn a good amount of maths, definitely harder than what I use!

Here is a list of the maths I use daily, that I can think of:

Arithmetic

Algebra

Logic and Boolean Algebra

Basic Algorithms

That's it. Maybe if I learnt the maths need in programming to the max, it might make my life easier when I am working on my personal projects, but my life is already easy with the little maths I know so I'm good for now.

Designing websites is less maths-y and more... designing in my opinion and experience. "I drew out this design for the website... how do I do I code that?" literally me every time I start a project.

Again, other fields in Computer Science would require more maths knowledge so research that field you want o go into and Google/ChatGPT "What maths is needed in [field name]?"

Hope this helps, my advice may not be the best since coming from a web dev point of view but it's still advice! Good luck 😎🙌🏾💗

#my asks #codeblr #coding #programming #progblr #studyblr #studying #comp sci #tech #coding advice #career advice post

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gurugirl · 1 year

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The Queen's Secret Ch. 11

Summary: The Queen gets confirmation of what she’s known already but it doesn't make her feel as happy as she’d hoped. She and Harry struggle to stay apart - their moments together are far too fleeting as of late. Gertrude and Edgar still suspect something.

Warning: Angst, mentions of depression, lying

The Queen's Secret Masterlist

Chapter 10*

Chapter 11

Gertrude woke early as she normally did. Lately, sometimes, she took the opportunity to check Harry’s phone. She hadn’t been convinced that he was faithful or that he hadn’t been seeing the Queen when he wasn’t supposed to. Looking over her shoulder she quickly brought his phone upward to see that he’d gotten a message at 11:57pm. From John Gabriel. John was a Duke and worked with Harry from time-to-time.

With a sigh she unlocked his phone and went through a few apps and found nothing out of the ordinary. She was hesitant to click on the message from John because once she did that it wouldn’t show up as a new, unread message and Harry might be on to her for going through his phone. Harry’s settings on his phone made it so that there would be no preview to the message and suddenly Gertrude had the idea to quickly change his settings and then change it back before he noticed. So she could at least see the first part of the text in his notifications window. Just to make sure it was actually from John.

Just as she’d changed his settings Harry began to move as he was starting to wake up.

Gertrude quickly placed the phone back down and left the bedroom before Harry woke up fully. She hadn’t gotten what she was looking for and unfortunately she’d updated the message preview settings on his phone, which he might notice. She hoped he didn’t, but it was too late now. She’d have to play dumb if he realized his settings had been tampered with.

Harry did notice. When he looked at his phone after sitting up and stretching in bed, he saw the preview of the message right there.

From John Gabriel: I love you.

He looked around the room and felt himself panic slightly. How had this happened? His wife could have seen. He opened the messages app up and sleepily smiled for a moment at the sweet message. But he wondered what made her text him so late when it was part of their rules to only text during hours they would get the message so that something like this wouldn’t happen. He texted her back quickly,

From Prince Harry: I love you too.

And then he deleted the texts.

Gertrude didn’t seem upset when Harry went into the kitchen with her. She was making coffee and speaking with the nanny about the kid’s schedules for the day.

“Morning.” Harry’s first words of the day came out in a rasp as both Gertrude and Sally turned to see the handsome Prince.

Harry kept a close eye on Gertrude to see if there was the possibility that she saw the text. He was also a bit perplexed by the sudden settings change. He’d need to redo his password in case it was Gertrude who’d done it. He hated that he couldn’t trust her, but why would he trust her when she shouldn’t trust him? He’d lied to Gertrude and fallen in love with another woman. Of course trust would be an issue between them.

“How did you sleep?” Gertrude asked as she sat at the table with Harry.

“Fine. How about you?” He sipped from the mug of coffee that Gertrude handed him and watched her. He noticed her look down at her hands and then flit her eyes back up to his. He couldn’t be sure but it seemed as though she was nervous about something.

“Fine as well. I’m a bit busy today. Sally will be here until 6 this evening with the kids and I’ve given instructions to Luz to make dinner. I have a few appointments at the castle. What are your plans for the day?” Gertrude tapped her fingers on the wood tabletop and watched Harry. Now they were both carefully watching the other for any sign of knowing what the other was up to.

Harry quickly decided to bring up John Gabriel, as a cover in a way, “I have a few appointments as well. A last-minute meeting came up with John. He texted me late last night. Nothing too important, just some decisions about the budget for construction of the new library, last minute changes I guess.”

Gertrude perked up at the name. She hadn’t gotten to look at the text or even see the preview of the message but this could be likely. Though, she still had her doubts, she didn’t have a choice but to accept what he told her. She nodded.

When Gertrude left Harry promptly changed his password and adjusted his settings back to how they had been.

He had a feeling deep down that Gertrude had tampered with his phone. Which meant she would have seen the preview of the text that read I love you from John. He knew she wouldn’t confront him about it because going through his phone would also be a betrayal. And Harry had a response for her made up in his mind if Gertrude were to confront him about it. But he wouldn’t say anything unless she brought it up.

When the Queen saw Harry’s response she sighed in relief. She’d been a little too reckless in sending that text so late like she had. It sat in his phone all night. She regretted it the following morning when she woke up but seeing that Harry texted her back she felt better. She needed to get ahold of her emotions. It was difficult. She just wanted to be with him night and day and at that moment she didn’t know the next time that she’d be able to see him. To touch him. The idea of not seeing his smile crushed her. She brushed her teeth and splayed a hand over her tummy and felt her eyes prick with tears. She was sad. Very sad. Her husband was already gone for the morning, off to visit a nearby merchant to have lunch.

Instead of moping and going back to bed like she wanted, the Queen dressed herself and pulled her hair up and went to the castle library. She walked around amongst the old shelves and looked for something new to read. She had a conference call to attend after lunch, but otherwise her day was empty. She wanted to find a good book to get her mind off of her problems.

It was depressing to her that she’d devolved into a cheater. A liar. A faker. It wasn’t ever meant to be this way. She was supposed to be a good Queen. She was meant to love her husband and support him in everything he did. And even if she never loved Edgar, she should have upheld her oath, her promise to be a good wife. It was true that she never did love him. She enjoyed him. She liked him enough. Until Harry came into the picture. He showed her what it was like to be loved and to be cherished. It came so easily to her to fall for the Prince. Too easily.

“Queen Y/n. How are you?” Gertrude suddenly spoke from behind the Queen. Y/n turned to see the Princess and smiled.

“I’m well. How are you Princess Gertrude?” She clasped a book in her hand, not sure which book she’d grabbed from the shelf and watched Gertrude.

“Very well. Thank you. I have some meetings at the castle today and stopped here at the library. I love this old library. Harry mentioned that a new one is being built in Manon. Do you know where it will be located?” Gertrude was curious about the Queen. She really didn’t know what to think. Part of her thought that she was just imagining that Harry was smitten by Y/n. It was hard not to imagine it. They’d had sex at least a dozen times from their sessions and the Queen was young and pretty and smart. And even with the protocols in place, Gertrude couldn’t help but feel like anything could have happened behind closed doors. But another part of Gertrude felt like she wasn’t imagining it, because of all of those things.

“I don’t know much about it, to be honest. I believe it’s going to be built near the square so anyone in Manon can access it. I could be wrong, though. Is Harry on the board for that construction?” Y/n did know actually. Here she went again, lying through her teeth. This wasn’t a project that the Queen was supposed to be too privy on, but she happened to know very well where it was going to be built and when. She even knew some of the budget details as she and Harry had spoken about it.

“Yes. He is the head of the board for the library. He hasn’t told me much regarding it so I wondered if you did. I do look forward to it being built. It would be wonderful to have a local library to bring the kids. I’d bring them here to the castle but it’s such a different atmosphere in the castle.” Gertrude smiled. She’d arrived to the castle a little early. She enjoyed walking through the library and smelling all the old books. The library was immaculate and ornate. It used to be one of her favorite places to come before she had children.

When Gertrude excused herself the Queen felt herself relax again. She felt awful. Completely ashamed. What a sorry excuse for a Queen she was.

The gala was tomorrow night. The Queen had been fitted for her dress and it looked just lovely on her. But she didn’t feel lovely. She was sad, anxious, lacking sleep, and constantly trying to hide her tears. The week without seeing Harry was torture. She hadn’t realized how hard it would get. She thought it would get easier but it got worse.

She’d had all morning to herself and had been in between tears and laughter when she took another pregnancy test and it was positive. She texted Harry but he’d yet to respond. She knew he was busy today. She already knew she was pregnant, and Harry had no doubts either. But now it was confirmed. Her emotions were all over the place and simply uncontrollable.

She was elated that she knew now, without a doubt, that she was pregnant. But she was sad because she missed the man who’d helped make her that way. It was a confusing morning overall for her. She sat in her tub and cried her eyes out, sobbing at the unfortunate circumstance – loving a man who was married to another. Who already had children. But then she’d begin to laugh when she found that she was being silly and felt she should be happy because she’d soon be a mother. She was happy. But she was sad also.

The new book that she’d picked was old and difficult to follow but it did a good job of keeping her occupied. She needed to reread paragraphs a couple of times to really understand the meaning at times. It was a good distraction for her. Sitting on her balcony, overlooking the courtyard and feeling the cool air around her was sobering. Reading on her balcony seemed to be the only time, as of late, that she could keep her emotions in check. Maybe it was the book. Maybe it was the cold air. Either way, she tried to allow herself time for reading on her balcony every day. For her sanity.

When Harry finally texted her back, nearly three hours later, she felt herself wither again, a slow spiral into depression. The book now long forgotten, as her lover had finally contacted her. It wasn’t healthy. She could recognize that.

From Prince Harry: We will find time tomorrow to see one another at the gala, my love. I need to kiss your pregnant belly once again in greeting to our child-to-be. I miss you more than I can describe.

His words were sweet and hopeful. It should have made her smile but instead his words brought her sorrow as she clenched her chest over her heart. She didn’t know how they’d find time at the gala. It seemed impossible. Everything seemed impossible. Nothing was going to be easy for them. The Queen crawled into bed and cried herself to sleep, not bothering to text Harry back. She had lost her grip on happiness again.

When Gertrude and Harry arrived at the castle for the gala they’d been arguing. Harry had seemed to start it. He hadn’t heard from Y/n since he responded to her after she told him about her pregnancy test. Nothing. He texted her again and it was silence from her end. It had him worried, in a bad mood and so he picked a fight with Gertrude. He was desperate to see the Queen. His sour mood would only be corrected if he could see her.

Nearly the entire kingdom was in attendance. The gala was for the fundraising of Manon infrastructure and to add a new wing to the hospital. Everyone was dressed to the nines. Tables were spread out in the ballroom with the seating arrangements totally up to the guests. There was live entertainment, gourmet food, an open bar, and all for a good cause. It was expensive to buy a seat but it would be worth it. The gala would surely bring in enough money to begin work on the hospital and update the streets surrounding the town center. It was something that had been needed for a few years.

Harry and Gertrude sat with a couple who they considered to be their friends. Harry forced a smile and looked around the room for his lover. He didn’t see her just yet.

“Please go and get me a drink. Red wine, a blend maybe.” Gertrude said to Harry. She was upset with him. He had not been nice to her all morning and had even snapped at Colin when he asked Harry to read to him when the nanny arrived. She barely wanted to look at him in that moment. Having him fetch drinks would give her space to breathe. She was worried that he was on to her for changing the settings in his phone.

Harry happily left the table. He needed air. From Gertrude. His head was on a swivel as he approached the bar. He hoped to see Y/n. He was feeling shaky and nervous that she was going to start shutting him out again. Or maybe something had happened with the King? Or maybe she fell ill? He didn’t know what the reason was for her sudden silence was but his stomach was in knots over it.

He ordered a glass of red wine for his wife and a bourbon on the rocks for himself. Then he sat at an empty table nearby and waited for his drinks, keeping an eye on the bartender as well as looking around the room in search for his love. The drinks didn’t take as long to put together as Harry had hoped. He was up and back at the bar within a few minutes grabbing the drinks.

With both hands occupied he very, very slowly made his way back to Gertrude. He took the long way, going around the perimeter of the room. Gertrude wasn’t looking in his direction at all so she wasn’t aware of the way Harry was clearly stalling to get back to her.

When a small commotion happened behind him he turned. There were a few people clapping and standing suddenly. The King and Queen had entered the room. Harry stopped. She was breathtaking. She always was but something about her in that moment had Harry nearly falling to his knees. He was stuck in motion as he observed her movements and her smile. It was a forced smile. She was not happy. Not really. She looked beautiful and no one would know that the smile she painted on her face was fake. Harry could see it, though.

When the King and Queen took their seats at the head of the room Harry noticed that Edgar seemed to be scolding her. He wondered if the king knew she was pregnant. Wondered if she’d told anyone other than Harry. And then she suddenly lifted her head and it was as if her gaze was drawn to her lover by magnet.

Harry smiled weakly and kept his eyes on hers and he saw her smile back at him before looking down to her lap. He turned finally to make his way back to his seat.

The gala was as expected. The entertainment was a good distraction, the silent auction brought in even more money for the fundraiser. Harry and Gertrude barely spoke to or looked at one another.

When Gertrude got up to use the bathroom Harry got up to make his way near the Queen. He hoped maybe she’d see him and she’d make an excuse to get up from her seat. It worked. When Y/n noticed Harry near the doorway that led to the small hallway for the servers she got up to stretch her legs. Edgar was deep in conversation.

Harry ducked into the hallway when he noticed the Queen was coming and she quickly made her way to him.

There was nowhere for them to hide or to be in private. The hallway was highly trafficked by the kitchen staff coming and going. But they still had their moment together.

“Harry. Hi.” She said when she stood before him. She wanted to put her arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss but she refrained.

Harry smiled gently, “Hi. How are you feeling?” He didn’t want to immediately bring up how he’d been very upset and in a bad mood after she didn’t respond to him. His nerves settled once the Queen’s eyes were on his and they could speak.

“I’m… okay. I’m just very upset. I hate this.” She looked down and closed her eyes. She felt better standing before Harry. It made her feel whole. It’s like all the small cracks that began to run through her body in the absence of his presence were suddenly filled and pasted back together again. His voice and his gaze were healing.

“I know exactly how you feel. I can’t breathe when you’re not with me. I miss you.” His whispers were low and the Queen looked up at him, holding back any tears that might fall down her face.

She swallowed and nodded. They both knew. They both felt it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you back I was so sad. I didn’t know how to respond and I just needed to cry. But it’s because I miss you and I don’t know when we can be together again, and that just will not do. I need more.” She confided.

Harry was taken aback. He hadn’t expected her to pour herself out like that. She tended to be more reserved with her feelings. And especially as they were stood in a public hallway with other people around.

“I know. It does hurt. All I want is to be with you. I’ve been in a very bad mood all day because I’ve missed you so much.” He nodded as he spoke and looked around to make sure that no one was eyeing them.

“It’s terrible. And I haven’t told anyone yet. I just need a little more time to pull myself together and then I’ll tell Edgar. You’re the only one who knows.” She graced him with her beautiful gaze and Harry was close to losing it and just taking her face in his hands and pressing his mouth to hers in a searing kiss that no one would mistake for friendly.

“I love you. So much.” He didn’t know what else to say. They needed to get back before they were caught by the King or Gertrude.

Y/n put her fingers into his for a brief moment, “I love you too, Harry. With everything I am,” and then left him in the hallway, her perfume lingering in the air behind her.

Harry leaned his head back onto the wall behind him and closed his eyes. These small meetings weren’t enough. Nothing was enough. He felt like he could die without her. His heart shriveling the moment she walked away. He needed her near to feel okay. To feel whole. But at least he knew her heart was still his. That notion allowed him to put a smile on his face and walk back to the table to his wife.

The announcement of the Queen’s pregnancy was a big to-do. A gathering of friends and colleagues and important people of the Kingdom was planned for a celebration of sorts.

Everyone congratulated the Queen and King on the pregnancy and Harry felt the sting of insignificance. He was the father, but no one could know it. He was the man that the Queen was in love with, the man who loved her with all of his heart. But no one would ever know. The celebration was modest and jovial. Except that the Queen and the Prince were not able to feel the joy of the celebration the way they had wanted to. They didn’t get to sit together, or hug, or even speak to one another. The King and Gertrude had kept a close watch that their spouses would not wander off with the other.

Harry’s mood had been rotten. Gertrude was not dumb. And the Queen was constantly crying and Edgar noticed. They both felt trapped, suffocated, imprisoned. It should have been a happy occasion but Y/n could barely feign a smile and would not touch her food. Harry wanted to comfort her and make her eat. He watched as she folded inward and kept her head down for most of the celebration.

And others also noticed the Queen’s sadness as well. They wouldn’t speak of it openly, but whispers were bound to start. The usually composed and well-kept Queen was clearly upset and not enjoying the occasion as she should have.

Two weeks of not seeing one another at all was brutally painful. They did continue to text and send the occasional picture. A call a day.

When the Queen went to the doctor for her checkup everything was as it should be. She was healthy and the first person she told about her appointment was Harry. They both felt warm longing whenever they were engaged in a text exchange or on a call with one another. Harry had begun taking quick trips to the market so he could call the Queen at certain times of the day when he knew she was alone. Hearing her voice was becoming mandatory.

Slowly, Harry began resenting Gertrude. It was a slow build up that he hadn’t recognized before but he was sure that she knew something and the phone incident all those weeks ago had him keeping a close eye on her. She never brought it up but he knew she had at least changed the settings on his phone.

He also knew she didn’t deserve his resentment, his coldness, his anger. Had she really done anything so wrong? She was concerned that her husband was stepping out on her and she was not wrong. Her intuition was spot-on. Harry just didn’t like being caught, didn’t like being questioned or doubted. But it was inevitable because he had slowly began to keep himself away from Gertrude more and more.

And Gertrude did blame herself. She knew that he needed more than she wanted to give over the last few years. But now she felt it might be too late to try and allow him in more. Give him more of the things he so desired in a partner. But she’d gotten so comfortable with how they had settled into their routine. And now she feared he was drifting from her for good. She feared it was too late.

It had been weeks since she’d had sex with Harry. Typically he tried to engage her, he’d make the move and Gertrude would give in and wind up enjoying it. But now that Harry wasn’t engaging, wasn’t trying to have sex with her she felt the need in herself to try and make the first move. She’d showered and shaved and talked herself up. She was going to try. Make an effort.

But when she got to her bedroom, Harry was not there. Normally he was already in bed with a book or his cellphone in hand as he waited for her. But the bed was still made and her husband was not in the room.

She went into the hallway and found that little Peter’s door was cracked open and there was a light on. She peeked into the room and saw her husband and her youngest son lying together on the small twin bed, both fast asleep with the small lamp illuminating their faces. Peter would grow up to look just like Harry, she was sure of it.

She backed away and went into the master bedroom where she fell asleep in their large king-sized bed all by herself. This was her penance for keeping her sweet husband at arm’s length for so long. She knew there might be no going back.

Harry woke the following morning in Peter’s bed. His original plan was to sleep in bed with his wife like he normally would but then when he realized Gertrude was taking an extra-long time in the bathroom he wondered if she was gearing up to have sex. He doubted it, because she rarely wanted it, but he also felt disgusted at the idea and so he went to get some water and to get his mind on right. He noticed that Peter’s door was open and his little boy was sitting in bed not asleep still.

It was the perfect excuse and the best way to avoid having sex with Gertrude if that’s what she intended. It also meant he got to cuddle with his youngest boy and fall asleep with him in his arms. That might have been the best night’s sleep Harry had had in over a month. It would soon become a tradition, with Harry switching off from each child to escape his wife and the way he resented her mere presence.

Every morning he texted the Queen that he loved her and every morning she responded by telling him she loved him back. But this morning, the morning he woke up well rested from Peter’s bed the Queen responded differently. It had Harry’s mood soaring and his dimples unable to be hidden.

To Prince Harry: Edgar leaves in three days. I have a plan.

Ch 12*

Thank you for reading! I’d appreciate any support you can give! Whether a comment, reblog, or buying me a coffee - it’s all appreciated. 💕

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Xoxo

Tags: @michellekstyles @ssaama @angelqueen99 @sombrioinvernoemveneza @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @dancinsunflowerkiwi @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @harrysbitchbabe @daphnesutton @matildasatellite @duh-dobrik @sadeslovechild @closureesny @belovedinbloom @be-with-me-so-happily @sushiirestaurant @melllinaa @theroosterswife24 @chuless @aineetaylor

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#harry styles smut #prince!harry #queen!reader #royal au #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #angst #harry styles fanfiction #firstpost

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muffin-snakes-art · 7 months

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Hey I love ur art I wanna know which program u use for ur art cuz I wanna draw a lot better then on paper ?

Hiya tysm!! I currently use a number of programs depending on what method I wanna work with or what I wanna make. I'll list and explain the ones I use or used for my illustration work.

Clip Studio Paint EX - Main choice for illustration and hand-drawn animation. I enjoy painting and sketching in Clip Studio more than Photoshop personally. The animation feature is pretty neat and I like using it mainly for the clean up process.

Adobe Photoshop - Illustration and hand-drawn animation. There are a few features Photoshop has that Clip Studio doesn't have that I personally need to make exporting multiple images faster and ready for animating. It can also make importing stuff from it faster and easier into After Effects.

Adobe Illustrator - Vector Illustration and 2D rig asset creation. If I wanna make quick clean art or I know I'll need multiple sizes of the same art, I use Illustrator. Creating vector art is a bit of a learning curve for beginner digital artists, so I wouldn't jump into it until you have an understanding on non-vector art programs.

Procreate - I don't turn on my iPad as much anymore, but it's an amazing and affordable art app. If you can afford an iPad and an Apple Pencil, definitely give it a try.

Gimp - I used to use Gimp back in high school since I had no way of purchasing any art program at the time, but I wanted something similar to Photoshop after learning how to use it in school. It's a decent free and open-source art program that served it's purpose for me.

MS Paint - Literally started out digital art and animation with Windows 7 MS Paint and a wireless mouse back when I was around 10yo. But the upcoming latest MS Paint update includes layer and transparency support for the Windows 11 version. Honestly I'd give that a try if you use a PC and have 11 on it!

Hope this helps! Also here's a graphic made by XdanielArt on Twitter listing a bunch of program alternatives to the Adobe ones. There's a good number of neat art programs to research and try out!

#asks #anon ask

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specialagentlokitty · 4 months

Text

Giles x teen!reader - the family you need

Part 11:

Time seemed to guy by too quickly, you wanted to spend forever there with your friends, you wanted to carry on living the way you were as a normal teenager.

But the equinox was around the corner, only a few days away, and you noticed a rapid decline in the amount of demons around.

It worried you.

“Surely it’s a good thing, right?” Oz asked.

You didn’t reply, too busy staring out of the window, there wasn’t a sight or a sound of a demon anywhere.

“(Y/N)?” Willow asked softly.

You turned around a little confused.

“Right, Uhm.. no. No it’s not a good thing, because it means there’s either something out there big enough to scare these demons away, or there’s something out there taking them out.”

“Do we know which?”

You shook your head walking over to sit on the arm of the couch.

“No, I don’t sense any demonic power, so I assume it’s not a demon that’s arrived.”

“Which means there’s something killing the demons…” Buffy mumbled.

“Exorcists?” Cordelia asked.

“I think so.”

“That’s great right? They can help?” Xander asked.

You went quiet, and you looked down.

“Great for you, not so much for me.”

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You sighed, running a hand down your face.

“Xander, what do you think they’re going to do when they come across me? A half demon? The spawn of Satan? They’re not exactly going to let me carry on walking around freely. I’m a danger, a threat to humanity as long as I’m alive.”

“Then we’ll.. we’ll hide you!” Willow said.

“No, if they find out you’re harbouring the spawn of Satan they will kill you. I just need a few days to figure out what it is that’s running these demons off then I’ll come up with a game plan. I need you guys to stay away for your own safety.”

They didn’t seem convinced and you smiled at them all.

“Come on guys I’ll be fine, really. I promise just a couple of days, I’ll meet you all at the bronze at 9pm on Friday.”

“Alright, we’ll keep you updated on what we find as well.” Buffy said.

You saw them all out and locked the door.

Walking over to the corner of the room you pulled up a floorboard and pulled a box out of it, inside were a 6 rings, a wrist watch and small glass ball.

Taking a deep breath, you activated your flames, watching as the rings and watch vanished from sight, and the ball lit up with a small blue flame inside.

Releasing your powers, you put them all back into the box, along with a letter you had hidden under your desk.

You had to move quickly, and make sure everything was in order, so you didn’t leave your apartment until Friday.

Jogging down the stairs, you threw the door open and closed it.

“What on earth?”

Giles came through from the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish cloth before throwing it on his shoulder.

You smiled at him, and you set a duffel bag down.

“I have something for you, two things in fact.”

You opened it, pulling out the box and you took the glass ball and wristwatch out.

You held the wrist watch out first.

“Am I missing something important? A special occasion?” Giles asked.

You laughed softly, shaking your head.

“No, I wanted you to have it. It belong to my dad, I had to fix it, which was hard than I thought watched are really hard to fix, but I also added a sigil to the back of it. It’ll hide you from demons.”

You then gestured to the ball.

“That is connected directly to my flames, when I use them, it’ll show you, so you uh.. so you know I’m alright.”

“You’re leaving…”

You nodded a little and gestured to the bag, pushing it over with your foot.

“In there is everything else, books, sigils, weapons, everything you might need in case demons start flocking here again.”

“You cannot leave, we’ve discussed this, it isn’t safe for you to be going out there, you don’t even know if the creature your seek is good or evil.”

“And I’m never going to find out if I don’t go Giles, I have to, the academy are here, if I stay it’s only so long until they find me, but if they sweep the town and see that im gone they’ll leave.”

Giles shook his head.

“No, I won’t let you.”

“Giles there’s no way that you can stop me, you and I both know I can easily outrun you.”

He sighed, sitting on the edge of his desk.

“I know that (Y/N), I know. But if you’re out there somewhere we don’t know how to find you, how can we protect you?”

You smiled softly.

“I’m a big demon, I can look after myself Giles. I just.. I need to do this, I need to see what I can be taught.”

“Then what?”

You shrugged a little.

“I.. I don’t really know, but I know there’s a reason I need to go.”

“I ask of you to please to reconsider this, or at least allow me to come with you, to keep an eye on you.”

“Giles you can’t I’m sorry, Buffy needs you here, she needs you more than I do. I’m used to being alone, I’ve dealt with this for years, she’s still new to all of this, she needs somebody to help her, to guide her. You’re her watcher, not mine.”

He gave you a sad look.

“You already had this decided, didn’t you?”

“A few days after I spoke with you yes, I knew that regardless of what happened here, what anybody said that I was going to go.”

He nodded, getting up he walked around his desk, opening one of the draws and he pulled something out.

He walked over and held out his hand, and you gave him a confused look.

“Pass me your arm.”

You raised your arm a little unsure, and hesitated before letting him take it.

Giles rolled up your sleeve, and he reached behind him, taking a leather brace from the desk, and he showed you it, and the sigils.

“I spent the past few months research some sigils, I found that a combination of them would be powerful enough to hide when you were using your flames, just like the hellmouth does.”

He gently placed it on your right wrist, and he closed it, tying it together, and he held your hand.

“I had a feeling you were still going to leave, I was actually going to bring this over before the sunset.”

You took your hand back, running your hand carefully over the brace.

“You made this for me?” You mumbled.

“If I can’t keep you here so I can ensure your safety, I can at least ensure your safety while you’re out there.”

You smiled, and you rolled your sleeve down to cover it.

“Thank you Giles…”

“Are you sure there is no way that can talk you out of this? Encourage you to stay?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m going. But I.. I’ll come back, when I’m done, I just… I don’t know how long it’s going to take..”

“I understand, and don’t worry, we won’t tell them anything about you, or that you were here.”

You nodded your head.

Giles looked at you, and he placed his hand on your head, his way of reminding you that you weren’t alone.

“I want you to remember that you have friends here, waiting for you. That you have a life here in Sunnydale that will be here when you get back, remember that no matter what happens you are human, you are not a monster.”

You nodded your head slightly.

“I will…”

You walked over, standing next to him against the desk, crossing your arms.

“Giles?”

“Yes?”

You looked at him, giving him a true smile this time.

“I want to say thank you, for everything you did for me that you didn’t have to do.”

“You don’t have to say anything, because you’ll come back. I know you will.”

“Please, in case I don’t. I never had a chance to tell my dad what I wanted to tell him, but I have a chance to say what I have to say to you, so I need to tell you in case something happens, in case I don’t come back.”

He nodded his head.

“I want to thank you, for treating my like a human, even if you didn’t know who I was at first, when you found out you could have thrown me aside, or cursed me, or given up to the academy, heaven knows I haven’t always been a good person… but you treated me like I was.”

“You are not to blame for the things that happened to you as a defenceless child.”

“I see that now, because of you. I don’t see myself as just another demon, a thing that is going to die one day. I realise I am still human, and it’s my job to make sure that this world stays safe from demons, from Satan, from everything.”

You looked down at your hands.

“I was a child who was raised with love, then a demon that was born from anger and hatred, I was helpless, I thought all anybody would ever see me as was a monster to be killed on sight.”

You lowered your hands.

“I’m glad that I came here, that I met all of you, and I’m so happy that you carried on looking after me even though you didn’t have to.”

You took a deep breath.

“I’m going to find a way to control my powers, find a way to make sure nothing ever happens.”

“I have no doubt that you will.”

You stood up, turning to face him.

“I’m going to come back Giles, I’ll try my best I promise.”

“I know, please be safe.”

You smiled, and you stepped away, stuffing your hands into your pockets.

You stopped just at the door and you looked back at him, and he smiled softly, nodding his head to let you know that it was alright.

“Giles?”

“Yes?”

You smiled brightly, almost a little grin.

“You’re my favourite person.”

With that you left, and he chuckled a little, running a hand down his face to clear the fear tears that had fallen from his eyes.

He looked at the watch you had gifted him.

“You’re my favourite person to…” he whispered.

You jogged down the streets, stopping at the bronze and you looked at the still bright sky.

“Sorry guys…”

Jumping on top, you ran across it, using the buildings as a path to get out of the town as quickly as possible.

You knew where you were going, you had seen the location so many times in your had that you could’ve made the trip with your eyes closed.

It would take a few days to get to where you wanted to be, and you wanted to get as far away from the area as possible as fast as you could.

So you never stopped running, you jumped over fences, clearing peoples gardens, clearing roads and train tracks.

It wasn’t long until you were out of the town, and you kept going, running through farmers fields and jumping over rivers and streams.

You had something to fight for, something to protect, something to call your own, friends, a family you had found to call your own.

Giles took a deep breath, and he picked up the box you had left, and he took out the letter and he read it.

A couple of hours later and his door was thrown open.

“(Y/N)s missing!” Cordelia yelled.

He looked up from his desk, shaking his head.

“They’re not missing.”

“What do you mean? They were supposed to meet us and never did.” Xander said.

Giles took a deep breath, and he stood up.

“All of you sit down.”

They shared a look sat down, and he handed them all a ring from the box, and handed the spare one to Buffy.

Then he picked up the letter, standing in front of you.

“Dear Everybody, I’m sorry that I never told you what I was doing, but it was for the best. I knew that you would try to stop me, and I knew that you wouldn’t be able too. Please don’t be angry with Giles, he didn’t know until tonight that I was leaving, but there is something that I need to do, something important. I wish I could have stayed, but this is what I have to do, and I have to do it alone, but I promise I’ll try my best to return, no matter how long that may take. The exorcists will leave when they can’t find me, and the rings are to protect you all from demons, hide you from them so they can’t see you, and there is an extra one for your mom Buffy.”

Giles took a small breath, looking down at the letter.

“I’m so thankful I found you all, and that you accepted me for who I really am, I never thought I would have that. I want you all to be safe, and look after one another. I am sorry, but I must go, and by the time you see this letter I’ll be long gone, I’m so sorry.”

Giles slowly set the letter down, and he looked at everybody who were trying to contain their sadness.

“They’re gone…?” Willow whispered.

“I tried to stop them, but they insisted it was something that they had to do.”

“We.. maybe we can find them..” Buffy muttered.

“It’s too late, they’re fast, they’ll be way out of town by now.” Oz said.

And everybody went quiet.

Because they knew he was right, you were long gone, and they weren’t going to be able to find you no matter how much they wanted too.

They just had to hope that you would come back one day, you would come back and you would be alright

You had ran all night, only taking a short break to catch your breath before you kept running, and in the distance you could see the vague outline of the mountains you had to go to.

But you didn’t need those ones, the ones you needed were just a bit further behind them and that all you knew, and you slowed to a walk, wondering through the wild grass with a sad smile on your face.

You were finally seeing things for the first time, and you realised that right now you had nothing, you had ran away from it all and left it behind, you just hoped it was worth it

#buffy the vampire slayer x you #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #buffy the vampire slayer #Buffy the vampire slayer x reader #Rupert Giles #Rupert Giles x reader #Rupert Giles x you #Rupert Giles imagine

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karatekels · 9 months

Note

Hi I love ur blog and would love to make a request! I saw the list of smut sentences that u reblogged and this one really caught my eye for ck Terry🤭

❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜

I love how u write obliviously innocent readers so that aspect but mixed with the fact that reader was maybe once employed by the LaRussos🫢 terrys obsession with ruining danny gets to have a new outlet in his obsession with our sweet little reader. (Maybe Daniel finds out🤔)

Please feel free to take this wherever u want! I adore ur writing and ur creativity🫶

I really had a good time with this prompt, so thank you so much for your request, anon! I hope you all enjoy! Part 2 (the day of the auction) is where the smutty stuff will come in, and it's here!

Also, I’ll take yet another opportunity to recommend green_essential’s fic in progress, “En Pointe” on Ao3 – it definitely fits the bill for this prompt as well, and maybe if I send enough of you her way she’ll update it because I’M DYING.

---

A Better Offer - Part 1

---

Strolling into the Valley’s branch of the LaRusso Auto Group, Terry Silver surveys the interior of the business with a calculated expression. In one of his perfectly tailored suits, his hair out of its signature ponytail – he didn’t want to draw attention – he looks far too wealthy to be standing in this kitschy dealership, but then, that was kind of the point, wasn’t it?

Knowing that Danny Boy was training his students at the dojo today, he had decided to take this opportunity to observe the man’s place of work. One’s job was often an excellent window into the person themselves, and Terry was looking for new ways to strike out at his rival. He briefly wonders what his profession says about him, before being brought out of his thoughts by the voice of a woman taking a group of men to task.

“I need you to take the 11 o’clock and 4 o’clock meetings today, Louie. I’m sorry if that ruins your plans, but take it up with the boss; maybe he’ll actuallylisten to you.”

The woman was quite short, not even coming up to the shoulders of most of the men surrounding her, even in her sensible heels, but she had a commanding presence, and the man called Louie mumbled an agreement, calling her “cuz” before leaving the group.

“Anoush, I need you to take care of the incoming shipments today; we’ve got a dozen open transport trucks coming over the next 48 hours. I’d do it myself, but someone needs to fill in for Daniel at his other meetings for today; I can’t ask Louie to do them all.” She dismisses him, turning to the two remaining men.

“And you two,” she begins, her hands on her hips as she glares at them. The men seem to shrink under her gaze, and Terry finds himself both amused and impressed. “Can I trust you to shuffle the lot around to make way for the new models? Quickly? Neatly?” The men nod sheepishly, keeping their eyes down, and scamper off out the door, leaving the woman alone with her clipboard, sighing heavily.

So you were the reason this place had been able to stay in the black. Terry had been wondering about that, seeing as LaRusso seemed to be popping up everywhere these days, clearly never at work. Interesting… And had that one man referred to you as a cousin? He knew the man, Louie, was related to Daniel from his research on his old rival after coming back to Cobra Kai, but hadn’t found anything about a woman like you. You looked to be in your early twenties, and you certainly didn’t look like a LaRusso, though you definitely had the same fire within you as Danny Boy. He wondered what would set you off, and what you knew, and decided to find out.

“Can I help you?” comes your voice, friendly yet firm, and he bites his tongue to keep from smiling.

“Oh, hello. I’m looking for Daniel LaRusso,” Terry says, his tone professional and radiating innocence. “My name is –”

“You’re Terry Silver,” you reply, and Terry finds himself momentarily taken aback. It wasn’t often that someone knew him better than he knew them. “I know who you are.”

Ooh, this may be harder than anticipated.

“Ah,” Terry sighs, trying his best to look wounded. “I see Daniel is still up to his…theatrics.”

You snort in response, and Terry’s mouth turns up in a smile, seeing that you were receptive to this line of criticism regarding your boss.

“You have no idea,” you mutter to yourself, before speaking up. “I’m sorry, but he’s not here. He’s far too busy plotting your downfall these days.” Terry laughs quietly, catching you smile in response and deciding that he quite likes how it lights up your face. Maybe this wouldn’t be as difficult as he’d thought…

“Yes, well, it’s a full-time job,” he says seriously, and you snicker. “But it seems like you’ve got things very well under control here. I have to admit, I’m quite impressed by you, Miss…” he pauses to look at your nametag, “L/N.” He takes a mental note of your full name, fully intending on having someone research your life’s history as soon as possible.

“Oh, well… thank you, Mr. Silver,” you say, seeming a bit flustered.

“You seem like you’re not used to compliments or even acknowledgements of your work. That’s a shame; most business owners would be over the moon with someone like you as their assistant.” Sure, he may be laying it on a bit thick here; he needed to get information out of you, after all. But the compliment was rooted in some degree of truth – he hadn’t seen someone so competent since Margaret.

“Really?” you ask, seeming skeptical.

“Indeed. You know, if you’re ever looking for a job that gives you a bit more credit, I’m always hosting some event or another. In fact, I’m looking for a coordinator for a charity auction for underprivileged children taking place in a couple of months, if you’d be interested…”

“The one for Eva Garcia’s charity?” you ask, excitement in your voice. Terry is surprised that you’ve even heard of Eva, wondering exactly who you are, and nods in response to your question, finding himself increasingly interested in you for more than just the intel you could provide about LaRusso.

“Yes, Eva is an old friend, and asked for a favour. I’m having trouble finding someone reliable to help me with the organization of the event; you seem like you would be more than capable of handling it, based on what I’ve seen of you this morning…”

“Wow…” you breathe, and he thinks he’s in for an easy victory, but then you bite your lip, your forehead creasing as you consider the ramifications of agreeing to work for him. LaRusso definitely seemed to be stressing everyone out with his vendetta against Cobra Kai. “I really appreciate the offer, Mr. Silver, but I’m not sure…”

“I understand your reluctance, Ms. L/N, I really do. I am the enemy, after all,” he jokes, giving you a cheeky grin. “If it allays your worries at all, this wouldn’t be a full time thing, or rather, it wouldn’t have to be. But I’d be happy to help you connect with other, less nefarious benefactors at the event so that you could wash your hands of me, if you’d wish to…”

You bite your lip again, this time to stave off a giggle, and he smiles down at you warmly. “Why don’t you talk to Daniel about it? It looks like he just walked in,” he suggests, sounding friendly.

You turn to look over your shoulder, and he follows suit, taking great glee in watching Danny Boy’s face as he takes in the two of you talking and laughing together. Smirking over your head, Terry winks at Daniel, smiling wolfishly and trying not to laugh; he can practically see the steam coming out of the other man’s ears. Terry puts a friendly hand on your shoulder, reclaiming your attention once more, and you smile sheepishly at him.

“Talk to him, and take some time if you need, alright? You won’t hurt my feelings.”

Better set himself apart from LaRusso as much as possible.

“I’ll leave you my card, alright? It’s got my personal number and address. If you decide you want to give this a try, just let me know. I’d love to work with you,” he enthuses, catching you fighting back a smile. “I’ll get out of your hair now, though – good luck with Daniel,” he says sincerely, his voice thick with implications.

Stepping around you, he makes to leave the dealership, waiting until you and Danny Boy were focused on each other before finding a place out of sight to sit, pretend to check his phone, and shamelessly eavesdrop. Time to watch the show.

--- Reader’s POV ---

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your confidence. You were a grown woman, you could ask your boss to have a civil conversation. Of course, most people weren’t employed by a close family friend; a family friend who was like a surrogate uncle to you, and who had become more than a little unhinged lately when it came to the whole karate thing.

Still, he owed you for practically running the damn dealership over these last few months. And he couldn’t exactly keep you from spending your own time how you wanted, right? Mr. Silver had presented you with an incredible offer, and you’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity, no matter what Daniel would have to say on the matter. And it looked like he would have a lot to say, you think to yourself as Daniel approaches you, a scowl on his face.

“Hey, Daniel!” you say, trying to start things off on a positive note. “I didn’t know you were coming in today!”

But Daniel wasn’t having any of your distractions. “Y/N, do you know who you were just talking to? Who that was? That’s Terry Silver, you have to stay away from that guy!”

“Oh, was it?” you ask, your face a mask of surprise. Better to play dumb, I guess.

“What did he want? What did you say to him?” You try not to get angry at the accusatory tone he’s using with you, like you’ve given out industry secrets or his social security number or something. You weren’t an idiot, and while you thought that Daniel was likely exaggerating more than a little bit about the lengths Terry Silver would go to when it came to his dojo, you didn’t plan on giving anything of importance away to the older man, no matter what opportunities he afforded you.

“We weren’t even talking about you, Daniel, calm down. He actually offered me a really amazing opportunity to help him put together a charity event, just as a side gig –” Daniel cuts you off with a snort.

“Yeah right. That’s not happening.” You feel your jaw drop. Sure, Daniel was very protective of you, but to outright forbid you from doing something was ridiculous.

“Excuse me?” you ask, insulted.

“You don’t honestly think I’d let you go work for that scumbag, do you?” he scoffs, and you start to see red. Family friend or no, boss or no, no one talked down to you like this.

“I’m not a child, Daniel, and more importantly, I’m not your responsibility,” you seethe, hardly able to believe he’s talking to you like this at all, let alone in the middle of work.

“I’ve worked damn hard for you to make sure that this place stays afloat, even after everything – do you know how many times I’ve had to cover for you? Sent someone else to deal with a client or dealt with them myself while you were off playing ‘kung fu warrior?’”

“ – Now, Y/N – ” he tries to interrupt, but he started this. The floodgates have been opened, and now you’re getting this off of your chest.

“And this whole time you’ve been acting like you’ve been doing me a favour, giving me this job! I don’t need your charity, Mr. LaRusso, and not nearly as much as you need me. Someone actually sees my value for once, and offers me the opportunity to move up in my career –”

“He’s just trying to take you away from me!”

“I’m not yours to be taken from! Do you really see the world like this, like the Sun and everything else revolves around you? Mr. Silver has done nothing to me but offer me a job – my dream job, working with people that I’ve always wanted to meet. Even if he was using me to hurt you, this is an opportunity to boost my career. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, or bruises your precious ego, but that’s only because you’re letting it! People don’t belong to you, Daniel. I don’t belong to you.”

“He’s going to hurt you –”

“How could he possibly hurt me more than you already have?” you ask, hating the shakiness your voice takes on. You were furious with Daniel, but you knew that he meant well and was just trying to protect you. Still, treating you like a child, like his child, was ridiculous, and to try to keep you from taking advantage of what Mr. Silver was offering you made your blood boil.

“The psychological torture alone –”

“I’m not some naïve kid he’s tricked with some flashy karate moves!” you scream at him, knowing that you were hitting a little below the belt, perhaps, but you couldn’t help it. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been this angry.

“He’s approached me – as himself, no disguises – and asked me to do this. It’s one job, and it could open so many doors for me – you know that, with all the events you and Amanda go to. Even if he his somehow trying to use me to hurt you, the least you could do is let me use him and benefit from this too! And if you can’t understand or respect that; if you can’t get over yourself, I quit.”

Your stomp off, leaving him in the middle of the dealership, looking shaken. Quickly, you collect your belongings from your office and leave without looking back. You didn’t want to lose your resolve, and seeing your surrogate uncle’s puppy dog eyes would definitely gnaw at your conscience.

Hopping in your car, you turn the key in the ignition, whipping out your phone and a certain business card. Adding the number to your contacts, you send a quick text message, and receive one promptly in return:

It’s Y/N L/N. Today work for a meeting? I can be there in half an hour.

Absolutely. See you soon.

With that confirmation, you peel out of the dealership, heading to the nicer neighbourhoods of L.A. and hopefully, greener pastures.

---

“Ah, Ms. L/N. I was starting to worry you wouldn’t show,” Terry says, greeting you as one of his staff leads you into an office. The space was well lit, open, and as comfortable as it was luxurious, nothing like the dank dungeon Daniel had had you imagining as you drove over.

“Sorry, I got held up at my former place of employment,” you reply, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice. It wouldn’t do to carry over your feelings of resentment to this new job, especially not on the first day. Terry surveys you, clearly having picked up on your emotional turmoil, and gives you a comforting yet concerned look.

“What happened? I was under the impression that you were rather close to the LaRussos.”

“Daniel seems to think we’re closer than we are. He tried to lecture me, keep me from coming here and taking this job. So, I quit. But let’s not dwell on it and get to work.” You flop into one of the comfortable chairs in the office, determined not to let Daniel ruin this opportunity for you.

You take out a clipboard, tearing out pages regarding scheduling for the dealership with a great deal of irritation, and grab a pen, starting to brainstorm some things to ask your new employer about what he was envisioning for the event, trying to ignore the fact that your hand is shaking as you write.

“Are you alright, Ms. L/N? We don’t need to rush into this, there’s still plenty of time before the auction.” Terry has moved from his seat behind the desk and approached you, looking down at you, and you appreciate that his eyes hold only kindness, not judgement or annoyance.

“No no, it’s fine. I’m sorry, this is so unprofessional of me. And please, just call me Y/N.”

“Would it help to talk about it? It seems that this is all because of me; the least I can do is listen, if it would help –”

“I don’t know, Mr. Silver –”

“Call me Terry, Y/N,” he corrects you. You smile slightly at him.

“Terry. It’s not your problem to solve.”

He nods slightly, seeming to accept this, and takes a seat in the chair across from yours, leaning forward towards you, his long legs closing the distance between you.

“You know, I went to therapy years ago; decades now, I suppose, to help me work things out. I had a lot of anger, a lot of pain. What I found helped me the most was just voicing it out loud – getting it out in the open rather than letting things bottle up. I’m not saying that you need to share things with me, but I will say I’m more than happy to listen, Y/N.”

You look over at him, taking in his words and the way he’s looking at you with his kind blue eyes. No one had ever offered to just sit and listen to you before, and now this man that you’d be told to fear and despise was encouraging you to prioritize yourself over anything else.

“I owe a lot to the LaRussos,” you begin quietly, and he smiles warmly as you agree to open up, looking pleased with you. “He, Daniel, is basically a surrogate uncle to me; I’ve known him since I was little. He was really good friends with my dad, and our families did everything together. Him and Amanda helped our family when my parents got laid off, and when I came back here after my family moved to Texas, they set me up with my job. Well, my old job now, I guess…” you trail off, thinking about everything the family had done for you. Had you made a big mistake?

“It’s just…frustrating…feeling like you’re indebted to someone all the time. I’m very grateful to Daniel, but sometimes he comes across like he’s a godsend to everyone in his circle of influence, and that we’re all meant to be loyal soldiers for whatever fight he feels like taking on. I was happy to take on more responsibilities at the dealership for him while he was off doing… whatever he was doing, but he never even acknowledged my work. He didn’t appreciate it, he didn’t care until I told him I was wanting to take on this job with you, and even then it was only because he thought it was all about him and you taking him from me. Like there was no other reason why you could possibly want me to work for you…”

Terry considers what you’ve told him, looking at you thoughtfully. You’re not sure why, but you’re awaiting his response with bated breath.

“You are right, you know. I didn’t decide to hire you because I wanted to take you from Daniel. I merely wanted to offer you an additional opportunity since I was so impressed with what I saw of your work there. But it does seem quite evident from what you’ve told me that you were the lynchpin in keeping his business afloat. I’d imagine that Danny Boy feels very overwhelmed right now with everything going on, and now losing the person that was helping him keep everything together… I think I can understand why he’s reacting like this.”

You blink. “You’re saying that you agree with Daniel? Why? You hate each other!” Terry frowns at your comment.

“Is that what he’s said about me?”

“He hasn’t said much, but we were able to glean that from the pieces we’ve picked up and put together.”

“What exactly is the story you know?” he asks, seeming genuinely curious. You quickly summarize what you know: lying to Daniel as a kid, putting him through aggressive training that left him angry and with bloody knuckles, baiting him into fights and being all-in-all manipulative. Terry whistles lowly when you’ve finished.

“And you still agreed to come work for me?”

“Well, I haven’t gotten any vibes that you were psychotic – not yet, anyway,” you say teasingly, and his lips quirk in response. “Plus, I’ve always believed that everyone should be evaluated on their own merit. You’ve been nothing but kind to me so far, and I have no reason to believe you’d be lying about the job – oh, jeez, the job! We haven’t even gotten started yet!” you exclaim, feeling horribly unprofessional.

“I consider laying the foundation of trust with the people I’m working with to be a very important part of work, Y/N,” Terry says, not seeming at all bothered by how your meeting has gone so far. “Still, if you’re worried about the time we’ve spent so far, perhaps we could talk about the auction over dinner?”

“D-Dinner?” you stammer, suddenly feeling nervous. Terry picks up on this, and works to reassure you immediately.

“Nothing untoward, Miss L/N, I assure you,” he says smoothly. “I merely thought we could save time and discuss things a bit longer together without working you into the ground. I’d prefer to work here, as this is where the event will be taking place and I want you to be familiar with it, but if you’d feel more comfortable at a different venue, we can of course go somewhere else.”

You think over his offer, a lot of other thoughts coming to mind as well. You felt you could trust Terry to keep things professional, though you do feel a slight hit to your ego at the thought that he didn’t see you as a romantic prospect. He was an incredibly attractive and charming man, and even though you also wanted your relationship to be a professional one, being dismissed as an option – even as kindly as Terry had just done – stung.

“Dinner here would be lovely, Terry, thank you.”

---

In the weeks leading up to the auction, you visited Terry’s estate regularly, at least three times a week, and were in constant communication with him over the phone or emails. You had developed a good professional relationship and worked well together, putting together what looked to be a very successful event. During your time together, you had formed a friendship with the man as well; your dinners together were now largely about learning about one another rather than discussing the auction, and you found that despite the age difference (as well as all of the other differences) you had quite a lot in common. You had no close friends or family in the Valley at the moment, still on the outs with the LaRussos, and apart from the senseis involved with Cobra Kai, Terry didn’t seem to have anyone here either. You had both come to appreciate your time together, free of karate drama or anything else, and talking to him about anything and everything had quickly become your favourite pastime.

The auction was taking place the next day, and while you were excited for it, you were also dreading the thought of the event being over. You knew that you had developed quite the crush on Terry, and while you weren’t going to act on it – he had made the boundaries of your relationship very clear, that first day – the thought of not having a reason to talk with him everyday had your heart aching already. You know that Terry had said he’d be happy to work on projects with you in the future, nothing was guaranteed. All you could do was make sure that everything was perfect tomorrow, so that maybe Terry would want to keep you around as much as you wanted to be there.

#terry silver #terry silver x reader #thomas ian griffith #cobra kai #sensei targaryen #hooray for requests

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hirayaaraw · 10 months

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Unbreakable Ties 6: In A Heartbeat

idol!Jaehyun x OC

Genre: Childhood Friends to Lovers; slow burn; angst

Note: After a long hiatus, I am back. I am sorry it took long. I will try to update more.

Tags: @yincotton @26zcl @ahtisa02 @joepomonerof @painted-hills @ukiyoneo @ourbeautifulaffair @wintersoulwarrior

Jung Jaehyun is a persistent man. If he says he will do it, expect results. That attitude catapulted him into stardom. As much as his attitude is desirable, Eunhye is hating it right now.

Jaehyun rushed to his car after the call. Saying goodbye to his mom and leaving her with the poor plant. Now, he is being cooed by her younger cousins and elders of the family. It became Jaehyun's fan meeting.

Apparently, her younger cousins are NCT fans while the elders are big fans of his dramas. Albums were signed left and right. Jaehyun enthusiastically entertained them and everyone congratulated you for pulling a guy like him.

In which Jaehyun replied, 'It's the other way around. I am the luckiest to have her.' Jaehyun said it brightly with his dimples showing. She almost forgot that they are pretending.

Just like their middle school and high school days, Eunhye watched him to be admired by everyone. He really has the star quality even kids are drawn to him.

"If Auntie Eunhye is your girlfriend, then can I call you Uncle?" Jaehyun lowered himself to be at eye level with her niece.

"Of course! I can be your Uncle Jae." The kid giggled and asked to be carried which Jaehyun obliged. A pain struck to her heart. That could be her son.

'You made the right decision.' She reminded herself. Eunhye carefully listed down his achievements in her mind and reminded herself that Jaehyun wouldn't reach those if things didn't go as she planned.

One night, one mistake shouldn't ruin his life. Eunhye knew Jaehyun worked hard to debut. Call her a martry or dumb but she would do it again in a heartbeat for her bestfriend.

Jaehyun saw the change of emotion on her face. He brought down her niece and went to her.

"Are you okay?" She nodded and tried to blink her tears away. Jaehyun noticed her tired eyes. "Should we go home?"

Eunhye nodded as a reply. They bid goodbye and made Jaehyun promise that he will come visit again. He happily agreed while holding her hand tightly.

"You shouldn't make that promise." Eunhye said once they are inside his car. She knew it was wrong to lash out to Jaehyun if he doesn't know anything.

"When did I break a promise?" Jaehyun scoffed when he sense her biting tone. She looked at the window while silently wiping her tears. Eunhye remembers how he will drop or do anything he can if she needs him. "You shouldn't be talking about promises if you ask me."

And it breaks her. Every pieces of her heart shattered. "Can you drop me off at my old house?"

She changed the topic. Jaehyun sighed as he failed to address the elephant in the room.

Once they reached her old house, they both alight from his car. Eunhye insist that she could handle it but Jaehyun stayed.

When they turned on the light, it was nothing compared to the bright and homey feeling of their childhood. Everything is so dim and lonely. Eunhye inspects each box trying to find something in the middle of the mess.

She smiled with loneliness. Eunhye brought it to Jaehyun and he noticed immediately what inside the box. His brows furrowed abruptly.

"Someone already bought the house. I won't be able to take everything so--"

"You are erasing everything about me." He held the box tightly. The box that contains their pictures, his gifts, and letters to her for every birthdays.

"Jaehyun..." She said his name lowly.

"11 years, Eunhye. For pete's sake, I waited for 11 years and this is all I got. Not even an explanation?" Jaehyun put down the box and turned his back to wipe his tears then faced her again. "I tried to contact you. Called your number, sent you thousand of message in facebook which you never opened, spoke to our high school friends, and even asked your college friends and professors but they all don't know."

Jaehyun rarely gets angry or cry but right now he is fuming angry and crying. She just stood in front of him calm as a sea but storm raging inside.

"Is it because of that night?" Jaehyun asked as this is the only reason he can think about.

"Why should we talk about something that happened a decade ago?"

"Stop ignoring my questions. I waited and lived miserably for 11 years without you." Jaehyun brushed his hair in frustration. "Do you know how it hurts to wait for someone you love when you never know if they will come back?"

Some people get their love confession in flattering way but Eunhye got hers in an argument. Eunhye blinked at him again and he groaned. She can hear him cursed himself for having the worse confession.

"We live in different worlds, Jae." He looked at her upon hearing her call him in his nickname. "We are meant to drift apart. You have the whole world in your palm and my world will be in Canada."

"And if I leave everything and come with you?" Eunhye felt her throat is hurting and eyes stinging from preventing herself to cry.

"You worked hard for all of these."

"For what? All of these but without you." Jaehyun laid his heart to her. Eunhye smiled bitterly hearing those words. Her early 20s self will never believe that she will hear those words years later.

"Don't destroy yourself for this." She said with finality. Eunhye picked up the box again and gave it to Jaehyun. "Leaving you still one of the best decisions I made."

Eunhye bought the earliest flight the next day. Fearing that she will crumble if she stays within Jaehyun's vicinity. Just like 11 years ago, Jaehyun woke up the next day confused. He went to her airbnb and to her old house but he couldn't find her. It's a repeat of his nightmare and he doesn't if he will be able to recover from this heartbreak.

2016

It hasn't been a year since Jaehyun debut as an idol under a group called NCT. Eunhye also started college that year in Seoul. Despite being in one city, they can't find a common availability to meet.

Jaehyun is in the middle of recording for their first mini album when his phone rings. It shows her name but he already told Eunhye that he will be recording so he declined. The phone rings again and for the third time he answers.

"Eunhye, I'll call in a bit. I am recor--"

"Hello! Is this the guardian of Lee Eunhye?" He freezed upon hearing a stranger's voice say her name. "You are on his emergency contact.

"What happened?" Jaehyun tried to be calmed but even his leader so him fidgeting and asked through sign if he is okay.

"Vehicular accident. She got a fractured arm but we will run more test to see if anything is wrong."

Jaehyun didn't waste anytime. He apologized to the producer and his teammates but he promised to give his best next recording.

When he arrived to the hospital and saw you lying in the bed of emergency room, he felt his knees weakened.

"What are you doing here? Your fans might see you."

"That should be my question. What are you doing here?" He put on a brave mask in front of her.

"Dumbass driver forgot to step on his break." Eunhye winced when she tried to move. Jaehyun immediately called a nurse just to check her.

When the nurse is gone, Eunhye laughed that made him frown because nothing is definitely funny about the situation.

"I can't believe we finally found a time to hang out and it's in an emergency room." Eunhye laughed in the absurdity of her thought but Jaehyun made a promise to himself to make time for her even if they have a busy schedule.

On that day, he realized that he will do anything for Eunhye in a heartbeat.

#kpop scenarios #nct scenarios #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #nct angst #nct fluff #jaehyun x oc

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sarandipitywrites · 5 months

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NaNo update 11/28

another day of writing, another scream into the night. these boys are fraying my emotions beyond repair. i need a nap.

The world beyond the door was silent. Lienzo raised his hand to the wood. His knuckles brushed the rough wood. Tiny splinters stung the thin skin, buried under before pulling away. The paper crinkled in his hand. He breathed in, held it, let it go. He knocked. Silence. "Baz?" Rain pattered against the walls, the roof above. What must it have been like in the glasshouse, just then? To look up, and feel as though he were drowning? "Baz." Another knock, harder. "I know you're still in there." A long, low creak. Furniture. Not, notably, being smashed. "I'm coming in; if that's not okay, throw something at me. Something soft, preferably." He turned the doorhandle and pushed. Darkness spilled over him. He hadn't been in Baz's room before. Armchairs and a single lounge huddled in the space nearest the door, separated from the rest of the room by a painted screen partition. Beyond that, a massive four-poster bed crouched in the shadows. with mismatched blankets and oversized pillows piled high as an ostrix's nest. A writing desk sat nearby, papers and books pinned under paperweights. A cracked door revealed an en suite bathroom; another for a walk-in closet. Lienzo lingered at none of these, drawn inexorably by the warm, flickering light by the windows. Baz slouched in an armchair by the lit hearth, staring out the window. Steady, dark rain poured outside. Rivulets ran down the glass, turning midday to darkest night. He might have believed Baz hadn't heard him at all, were it not for the tiniest flick of one ear. "Look," he started. He swallowed, licked his dry lips. "I know it's not enough, but— I'm sorry. I sold the bangle you gave me. I didn't— I didn't realize it was so important to you." Baz stiffened. His eyes remained with the rain. "Which— I know that's not a good reason. And I know I can't go back and not do that. I didn't mean to hurt you, but I did anyway. And I'm sorry." His hand clenched on the arm of the chair. Dark scrapes and beads of blood gleamed like pomegranate seeds in the firelight. "...You're hurt." He took Baz's hand in his, warm and rough and real. Skin rubbed raw on the knuckles; splinters lodged beneath the nails. Baz flinched away, tucked his hand under the fold of his cloak. Every bit of the cloak's edge was frayed and torn. It hadn't been like that, before. "Baz, talk to me. I don't know what you need if—" The chair fell to the rug with a muted thud. Baz towered over him, all teeth and fire and hurt, pinched brow and clenched jaw and tight fist. He reached up one shaking hand and tapped his own throat. A slow, juddering shake of the head. "Yeah. You told me." He lifted up his offering, unfurled it. Paper whispered into the silence. Ink, shiny and preserved under melted wax, gleamed in the firelight. Letters, large and evenly-spaced. A few key words — yes, no, maybe, not sure — framing the edges. Thick, sturdy. Meant to be carried, meant to be used. Baz stared down at the letterboard, his mouth working wordlessly. He took it, fingers brushing Lienzo's. It shook in his hands. He didn't like it. Lienzo's stomach twisted. Baz was insulted. Lienzo had made it worse, had driven Baz even further away because that was what he did, because things never turned out the way he thought they would, never played out like they did in his head, in the storybooks, because the people in the books were heroes and Lienzo was— Warmth enveloped him. Warmth and pressure and presence and he choked on it, water welling in his eyes and throat until he thought he could drown.

AES taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @notwritinganyflufftoday

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #nanowrimo 2023 #nanowrimo #nano check in #the art of empty space #my writing

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coolstarorg · 1 year

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Leaving the jailbreak community

Around this time last year (in March 2022) I had updated my main iPhone to iOS 15.1, hoping to make a jailbreak for it. I fully expected to be gone from the scene after iOS 15.1, but knew full well that with all the mitigations of iOS 15.0 - 15.1 alone, it may already have been out of my means to make a jailbreak, so there was a risk.

By that time, I had already cut down the tweaks I used to just 2 -- iPad dock for iPhone, and enabling battery percentage for notched iPhones.

Fast forward to June, and iOS 16 had natively introduced battery percentage for iPhones that have the notch -- cutting down the number of tweaks I’d want (compared to stock) from 2 to 1. But no matter, I was still on iOS 15.1, and still hoping to make a jailbreak, since I had a working terminal at that point.

However, the months progressed -- June became July, and iOS 16 betas were coming. Thanks to a donation from someone, I got an M1 Macbook Air to accelerate jailbreak development, and had gotten libhooker with tweaks running a couple weeks later, including on A12 and A13. The jailbreak at this point was in an extremely buggy, albeit functional state and hope was up.

Then the jailbreak community happened -- without a PAC / PPL bypass at the time, libhooker would be forced to sign code pages -- which was only really doable with the libhooker API (unless a ton of effort was spent on potential workarounds). But tweak developers largely refused to consider using the libhooker API for batching hooks, and I was quickly getting frustrated. And a lot of others from the community weren’t helping either -- I had gotten harassed by many jailbreak users on twitter and reddit over this, especially since it had recently come to light that Cheyote was broken on A15. And of course, with it being August 2022, it was unlikely any donations at this point would even get an A15 device on early iOS 15.

At the same time, I had other interests popping up with porting Windows to various chromebooks -- my port to AMD Ryzen was going well enough to be a daily driver, and I had just gotten audio working on the Pixel 2 chromebook (which I previously abandoned in 2017 but then picked up in 2022 with my new experience).

So I snapped -- I realized how much better the community is on the chromebook side and that I simply didn’t need to put up with the jailbreak community. And I put Cheyote on the backburner to focus on developing Windows drivers for chromebooks.

Then August became September, November, December. Progress was being made on the chromebook scene, but every time I considered returning to doing iOS jailbreaking, I shuddered from remembering the harassment.

In December 2022, I returned the money donated towards the macbook to the person who donated it. Since I realized Cheyote was well beyond schedule, even if it ever came to happen. Meanwhile in the chromebook scene, I was getting Intel 12th gen audio working.

Then the months passed, and in March 2023 I realized it had been a full year. And I was still on iOS 15.1 for seemingly no reason other than to tease myself and miss out on the battery percentage and widgets -- so I updated my main iPhone to iOS 16.3.1 (and now iOS 16.4), knowing that there was no turning back and that I would no longer be jailbroken on my main device for a long time, if ever.

That brings us to today. Even though I’ve been in denial about it for several months now, it clearly has made me feel a lot better to stay away from the jailbreak community, and I have found new interests that make me happier. So it’s time to say farewell. It’s been a good run overall since I started developing tweaks for iOS 5 (in 2012) and jailbreaks since iOS 11 (in 2017) -- a 10 year run isn’t too bad after all.

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For those who are still waiting on Cheyote, unfortunately I wouldn’t hold my breath anymore. I’ve clearly moved on months ago, even though it’s taken me until now to fully realize it. I appreciate those who have supported me in the past and thank you for your support on my tweaks, Electra, Chimera, Odyssey and Taurine. If you’re still running one of the jailbreaks I’ve made -- you’re a real one. libhooker and my repos will still be up and running for those on iOS 11 to iOS 14, and Sileo has been maintained by Amy for over a year now. I expect Odyssey and Taurine won’t need any more updates considering they’ve been running stable for a long time, and libhooker 1.6.9 will continue to be hosted on my repo since it is the last version to be fully validated up to iOS 14.8.1 (on checkm8) and up to iOS 14.3 (on Chimera -> Taurine).

If you were interested in what I’m up to these days, feel free to grab almost any Intel chromebook (or one of the 3 supported Ryzen 3000 chromebooks) from the last decade and put Windows on it! (Except the original Pixel 1 [no trackpad / touch screen] or Samsung Chromebook 3 -- that one is garbage, sorry if you have it)

#jailbreak #iphone #ios15 #taurine #odyssey #electra #chimera #libhooker #sileo

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xoxiu · 10 months

Text

first love of late spring - ot7 x reader

chapter two table of contents masterlist join the taglist discord

summary: falling, falling, falling- that's what you shouldn't be doing as a young intern at hybe. falling in love with your supervisor is frowned upon, especially all seven of them. you'll never learn, will you? guess you’ll just have to be their dark secret.

tags/warnings: intern!reader, poly relationships, stockholm syndrome, age regression, spanking, drug use, sugar daddy au, dubcon, body dysmorphia

The best part about your internship was the flexible hours. You were golden as long as you completed a time-sensitive task on time. Most of the time, social media promotional posts had to be up at midnight, 11:00, or 13:00. While you weren't in charge of posting promotional content, you still had to keep track of all the numbers and engagement. This often meant staying up late at night and being in the office by at least 10:00.

The soft fall breeze made your morning walk rather chilly. You huddled into your oversized sweatshirt as hug held onto your hot coffee with both hands. Usually, you would get it iced, but today you figured you would need something to warm you up.

The heat of the office warmed you right up. You quickly took the lift up to the tenth floor, almost quite running into your boss as you tried to exit the elevator.

"y/n! Just the person I wanted to see." He motioned you into the office, leading you back to your cubicle. "I have a big job for you today."

You sat your bag down on your desk, inquiring more about today's task. Your boss leaned against the window, folding his arms and a wide smile on his face. He was always oddly cheery- you would see him walking around the office with a smile and small talking with your coworkers. It didn't put you off in any way, it was just odd to see someone so gregarious and loving his job.

"Today at noon there's a dance practice with members of BTS. I want you to sit in on it and shadow the cameraman.”

Nodding, you gave your boss a slight bow as he turned to leave. You sat down in your chair, anxious about sitting in on a dance practice but also wondering just why your boss wanted you to shadow a cameraman. Your job was social media, not filmography.

Logging into the computer, you couldn’t help but notice a sticky note stuck to the cubicle wall out of the corner of your eye. You curiously took it down, as you didn’t recognize the handwriting as your own. It simply said ‘Welcome’ on it with a cutely drawn heart. A coworker must have placed it in your work area, as they barely had time to have a conversation with you with their workload. With a smile, you placed the note on your desk next to your computer.

Jandi had been updated to show your newest shadowing task. Today, all you had to do was check the analytics of the most recent YouTube videos for TXT and write a report comparing it to the last video’s statistics, attend a meeting at 15:00, and spell-check the upcoming announcements for Weverse. Oh, and shadow for the dance practice at noon. A relatively easygoing day- you were relieved to not have to watch any more training videos.

The newest TXT video was a To Do X TXT episode, while the second most recent one was a T:Time short. You sighed as you realized just how stupid this assignment was- it should be obvious that the To Do episode did better than a short, but apparently, your boss just wanted you to suffer and do busy work.

Midway through your assessment of the stats, an alert popped up on your screen telling you it was ten minutes to noon. You felt your chest tighten as you remembered what the alarm was for- dance practice with BTS. The alert was dismissed quickly as you logged out of your computer. Taking deep breaths in between the last sips of your coffee, you attempted to calm yourself down before leaving the office.

Dance Studio B was located on the lower floors in the production block of the building. That block was usually where the artists and producers hung out- there or the fitness centers near the top of the building. The practice room was completely white with a large mirror covering one wall. Music blared from the speakers- a rap song that reminded you somewhat of an old 90s rap tune. Standing in the doorway, you looked around the room with wide eyes. On one side of the room sat all the managers, producers, and dance instructors. Most of them were idly chatting amongst themselves, or watching the dancers intently.

On the other side stood three members of BTS. You quickly recognized them as Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook, and Jung Hoseok. Hoseok walked the other two through a series of dance steps, giving out verbal directions and counts.

“y/n! You’re perfectly on time, maybe a bit early. We’re waiting for the talent to be done rehearsing before we start filming.” A man dressed in all black approached you- the cameraman most likely. You quickly gave a small ‘hello’ and a bow.

“Sorry to interrupt! Everyone, this is the new intern, y/n. She’s here to shadow my camera work and see more of the behind-the-scenes work.”

Great, you thought, now all eyes were on you. After giving the typical formalities, the cameraman instructed you to sit in a corner near the water and just observe. You tried your best not to stare at the idols and focus more on the crew, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes being on you. Glancing back towards the trio, you locked eyes with Jungkook. He eyed you up and down with an approving smirk before going back to focusing on his footwork.

Jeon Jungkook of BTS just checked you out.

What would be most girls’ dream somehow made you feel gross inside. You didn’t feel like you deserved his approval of your body, something that you tried your best to hide with baggy clothing. It was almost as if he could see right past that like he was seeing your body and simply reacting to it. You further curled up on yourself as a producer announced it was time to start rolling.

The trio danced flawlessly together. They demanded attention in each step they took, almost as if they were saying ‘Look at me; I am perfect’. Having sat through a bit of their rehearsal and constantly hearing Hoseok admonish someone for their misstep or call for a restart, you knew that they were not completely perfect. They worked long and hard to get as close to perfection as they could.

You watched as the cameraman moved fluidly throughout his filming positions- he moved closer and crouch for one shot, and then run to the side for a new angle. It was almost as impressive as the dance itself. You still didn’t know why you had to sit in on this.

The practice ended nearly an hour later- there were a total of four shoots with a practice in between them. You felt a stinging sensation in your back and bottom from sitting in one position for so long but didn’t know what to do about it. You were instructed to sit there, and you would do so until told otherwise.

A water break ended the session, and the three men approached you. Your breathing hiked up as they neared you until you remembered the water bottles were on a table next to you. Still, the three of them waved and bowed at you, acknowledging your existence.

“y/n, is it? I’m Jung Hoseok, this is Park Jimin,” the eldest motioned towards a pink-haired boy, “and Jeon Jungkook.” You were familiar with Jungkook. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you for almost the whole hour.

“It’s nice to meet you. I am honored to be able to work for you.” You said with a smile.

“How old are you? You seem pretty young,” Jimin asked, wiping away his sweat with a towel.

“I’m 22. I just graduated from university, so this is my entry-level job.”

“Hell of an entry-level job. You must be good at what you do,” Jungkook said, leaning up against the wall next to you. He looked down at you like he was analyzing you. Something was definitely up with how he perceived you. Jimin must have picked up on your thoughts.

“Kookie, stop being weird. You’ve been staring at the poor girl this whole time.”

Hoseok laughed alongside Jimin, and you chuckled out of awkwardness. You never really had a man lay his eyes on you out of lust, only disgust. This new situation made you somewhat uncomfortable as you didn’t know exactly what to do or how to react.

“Want to grab lunch with us, y/n?” Jungkook asked, “I’d like to learn a bit more about you.”

Stuttering, you managed to squeak out a small okay as you stood up. They were much taller than you, towering over you like powerful giants. You kept your gaze on the floor as they lead you to a nearby lounge for lunch.

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #seokjin x reader #bts little space #first love of late spring

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