#what if i was the one in the wrong and standing up for myself made me look like an ass
Ooo, 23/24/25: but Fairies/Borrowers/Giants didn’t exist? whichever one you want to do.
Maybe paired with 28: I won’t let them find you?
Uhhh……. Gulliver’s Travels based story. I had to make a whole AU that pulls some of my oldest characters out so I can get that terrible lack of g/t out of my mouth.
Contains: Uh, hopefully nothing i need to tag other than the giant is a bit of as asshole.
Cade was a scavenger as much as he was an artist. In the small port town of Seabarrow, there wasn’t much demand for artists, so he scavenged to make enough coins to keep a roof over his head and food in his belly. This one fateful morning he had gone to clear his head, check the shore line for shellfish, and maybe sketch some landscapes. It was landscapes and portraits that we are his biggest sellers anyways.
The beach near the woods sometimes has shellfish wash up on it, or driftwood he could sell to his carpenter friend, or birds he could take down with a slingshot. So that’s where he would be going, and not to mention that the sun over the water was one of the prettiest sights on the island.
It was a dangerous place to be, but he was careful and he knew when to leave some place. He'd not run into much trouble in this place before so it would probably be alright.
He had arrived through the woods and he froze upon setting his eyes on the gigantic creature. In the stretch of land between the woods and the beach was the biggest creature he had ever seen. “Giant.” He whispered. “It’s a giant! Giant’s don’t exist!”
It lay on the ground, motionless. It was wearing some kind of uniform, mostly orange in color. It had on large black boots and there was something silver around one of its wrists. He could see light brown skin on its face and head topped with short brown hair.
His heart was racing in his throat. It was a giant, and he was standing in front of it. If this thing woke up, he would be its first victim. Cade took a few steps back, and then he shifted his bag over his shoulder. "I'm going to go get help....stay here." And he took off running.
It wasn't long until he was back in the city, and he was racing towards where he knew there was a scout and a good friend that he could trust. "Brain!" He screamed, throwing open the door to his house. "Brian!"
"What is it?" Brain looked exhausted, his uniform rumpled and his hair mussed as he sat at his table. "I thought you weren’t gonna be back until later?"
"I was, but there's a-" Cade had to stop to take a few breaths, nearly falling down due to his lack of breath. "There's a-"
"Sit down." Brain stoof and gently guided him onto a sit. "Take a deep breath. What's wrong? Was there an animal?"
"There's a giant." He was finally able to spit out. "There's a giant, through the woods, near the beach. It- it’s huge. It could wreck the whole town."
Brain sat up straight, all traces of sleep gone in his eyes. "Are you sure? A giant?"
"Yeah. I saw it myself." He was still winded. "I ran straight here."
"We'll need more than just your testimony. C'mon, we'll take my horse." Brian stood up and raced out the back of his house, startling his horse. "Are you coming? I need you to guide me."
"Yeah, gimme a second. I ran through the woods, I need a second to breathe."
"You can breathe on the way there." Brian stepped back in and grabbed his arm. "If there's really something there, we need to do something about it immediately."
Next thing Cade knew, he was holding onto Brian’s waist as the horse raced across the forest. The two of them made it over to the clearing quick enough. The giant was still in relatively the same position. Laying on its back, head turned to the side, one arm clutching at its middle. They had a hard time calming down the horse.
"Woah, whoa." He stroked her neck and desperately tried to keep his balance as Cade clung to him. "Easy girl, quiet."
Cade jumped down as soon as she was under control. "See, it's right here, just like I left it."
Brian jumped off his horse and cast a long glance to the giant and then back to his friend. "Hold onto her bridle." Brian put the reins into Cade’s hands. "I'm going to investigate. Soothe her."
"Where are you going?" He cast a nervous glance to the slumbering titan, who thankfully hadn't moved in all the commotion.
"If it's dead, there's no need to cause any excitement."
"Brian!" He hissed as the scout approached the giant. "Brian, get back here."
He waved him off as he approached. He approached its hand closest to them. The fingers alone were the size of his body, if not larger, and the palm could be used to transport livestock. He took a deep breath, then he stepped closer. Brian shakily stretched his hand out and placed it on the overturned wrist. He could feel the immense amount of blood that rushed through its veins.
That was a pulse. He had enough proof it was alive. He slowly backed up, not wanting to disturb it any more. He was soon back at his mount with Cade. "It's alive. We need to alert my superiors."
Reese awoke slowly. His body was bruised from the storm and the water and he felt the heat of the sun beating down on his face. But he was alive.
He was alive, and he wasn’t stuck on that ship anymore.
That’s all that mattered.
He opened his eyes and discovered that he couldn’t lift his hands to shield his face from the sun. Or sit up. There were far away voices, shouting something. Where was he? Reese lifted his head, wincing at how stiff his neck was, and instantly saw why. There were these strings all around his body, keeping him pressed against the ground.
His eyes darted to the voice. There was a little man wearing some gold chest plate standing near a little thing of scaffolding near his left arm. He had a big bushy mustache that obscured the rest of his face from this angle. And he was maybe four inches tall. One of Reese’s fingers could overwhelm the little guy.
“State your name and your reason for trespassing on the shores of Seabarrow.”
He tried moving his feet. There was enough give for him to rotate his legs in place under the strings. And even though there were strings pinning down each individual finger, he could feel he would be able to get out from under it. They weren’t tight.
“Can you speak, beast?”
“Who are you calling Beast?” He glared at the tiny man. “And who are you, anyway?”
The little man bristled. “I am Captain Bar Highgrove! I am the Captain of the scouts for Seabarrow. Who are you, and how did you get here?”
“Reese, and I was shipwrecked.” He made his right hand into a fist, digging his fingers into the ground to get his fingers untied. “Untie me now, or I’ll be getting out of this myself.”
“Preposterous. You could be dangerous to the people here. Until you can prove yourself nonviolent, you will be staying here.” The Captain puffed his chest out in challenge “And there is no way that you can escape from these ropes. They are the finest crafted ropes in the entire kingdom.”
Reese couldn’t help but snort at the tiny guy getting really indignant about these thin little ropes.
With a grunt, the ropes on his right arm snapped as he jerked it up. The ropes were torn off his chest and he ripped his left arm from the ground. With easy motions, he ripped the ropes off his legs. He was free now. Even the section of handcuffs was gone, sitting unlocked nearby. These little people must have taken it off.
“I told you I could get out of them.” He smirked and turned to face the scaffolding. The little man was shaking and backing away on trembling legs. “Oh come on, you look like I’m gonna eat you.”
A whimper left the small man.
Reese clicked his teeth at him before getting to his feet. He saw more of the tiny people rushing around the camp that had been set up around him. Well, tiny people existed apparently.
These little guys would have nothing to fear from Reese so long as they didn’t start hunting him. He rolled his neck and then carefully stepped around the little tents and carts and people to go off into these woods that were about his size. He’d survey the island before picking a place to camp out.
Warnings: Heavily discusses self harm and mental health, seriously I want everyone to be safe so I ask that you don't read this if the topic could be triggering to you. Also the tiniest bit of language.
But on another note, this was healing for me to write about since I've gone through something similar, so I hope it gives you the same feeling as you read it.
Pairing: Josh Kiszka x y/n
Word Count: 1275
"I'm already scared of the winter even though summer's taking her sweet time to start. It's her manipulative art...
She tricks your heart into thinking that it's calm
But then the rain comes back like it always does"
- Olivia Klugman, Raining in June
As the tears slowly made their way down my face, I decided what I had to do. I was going to make a hard choice. “Josh…” I called out to my boyfriend of two years, my voice steady despite the amount of tears pooling around my cheeks. I knew in the long run that this would be the right choice.
We had been through hell together in these two years, but he had been the best. He took me to therapist appointments, he made me laugh, took me on adventures and held me when I had mental breakdowns. I couldn’t ask for anyone better.
After a second he came around the corner. “Yeah mama?” he said. It took a moment for him to notice I was crying, but as soon as he did, his face dropped into a frown.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, walking over and lightly crouching down in front of me.
“The…” I trailed off, I couldn’t think of the word. I sighed, slapping the side of my head in frustration.
“Stop that.” Josh cursed, grabbing both my hands.
“Sorry.” I said through the tears.
“It’s okay, now take a deep breath,” he watched as I did. “Good, now what’s going on?” He asked.
I sighed as the word slowly came to me. “The letter opener, top drawer” I placed my head in my hands.
A look of realization dawned on his face as he glanced over and got up to open the desk. He took out the sharp object and disappeared into another room.
A feeling of disappointment came over me, followed by shame. It was hard deciphering whether the disappointment was from not getting what I really wanted, or having to have someone take it from me. The shame on the other hand, that was a close companion of mine.
I couldn’t even be trusted to be in the same room as a sharp object anymore. It was getting worse.
We had taken all the scissors and knives out of the main house and boxed them up in the garage until "I was ready", as if I'd ever really be ready. Josh had been using only a singular pair of scissors that he kept hidden and the letter opener.
I always knew it was in the desk, I had just been strong enough to fight the urge before. But now… now I wanted to use it.
Josh came back down the hallway, standing in the doorway for a minute to access the situation. I was fine. I had caught myself in time, but we both remembered the days when I didn't. When he would walk in on me in a fit of tears, slicing down my arms with a kitchen knife. When he would run in the room to take the knife from me and would have to find gauze to bandage the cuts. After the first time, he bought extra first aid kits to place around the house, the second time we had decided on therapy, and by the third, he removed as many sharp objects as possible from my reach.
Josh didn't say anything else, just walked over to our record player and picked out one of our favorites albums, All Things Must Pass by George Harrison. My therapist had encouraged some music therapy to help me calm down since Josh and I were both musicians. When I told Josh about it, he'd lit up and had me pick out records to play in times of emergency. We'd even made a special trip to the record store to pick out a few extra ones. I liked the idea, but at the time I didn't know how it would turn out practically. I did help, it just didnt cure me like Josh had envisioned.
He sat beside me on the bed and pulled me down to lay with him. His chest vibrated slightly as he breathed.
in and out...
in and out...
in and out...
I knew what he was doing, my therapist had also recommended breath exercises. Josh knew I would always try to match my breathing to his if I could feel him breathing, as if it humanly possible not do it.
"Y/n, talk to me." He said after I had mostly collected myself.
I let a moment pass, deciding what I would say, "I started hurting right here," I started, pointing to the center of his chest, my finger ghosting over his black T-shirt. "And then it spread outwards," I continued to move my hand, swirling around the original starting point.
"And then I started crying, because it hurt and I hate how it hurts.'' He nodded a little, I had used similar vocabulary before in therapist appointments. She had called it anxiety disorder, but I just knew something bad came with the aching in my chest.
"Go on," Josh urged, his hands moving up and down my back in a way that put me at ease. He had that power over me.
"Well... I started scratching." I added. I sat up to pull my shirt up to show him the swollen red flesh on my chest, right around the source of the hurting. His eyes got misty and then my heart hurt again, just differently than before. He reached up to lightly trace the scratches, his fingers were cool against the inflamed skin.
I moved one of my hands to his face, "I'm okay, baby. I'm okay. That's why I called you. You saved me just in time." I said dropping my shirt as he moved his hand to my arm, slowly rubbing up and down rhythmically.
"No, you saved yourself. I'm really proud of you, mama." He said, his voice a little more emotional than normal. I had done that, I made him sad.
I laid back down, leaving one hand still holding his face. "Then I remembered the letter opener, and all I could think of was hurting myself so that the pain on the outside matched the pain on the inside." I told him just louder than a whisper.
His arms encircled my body, holding me securely. "Thank you for getting me." He murmured, his face buried in my hair.
That's when I lost it again, sobbing into his chest. Through the tears I got out, "You're the best fucking person I know. Do you know how lucky I am that you've stuck beside me for two whole years?" I said, chuckling a little to hide the fact that I believe my words.
He drew back from me to see my face. He was evaluating, he was really good at that. "You don't believe that, do you? God, I would trade in everything else if it meant I got to be with you for just another two years.” he said.
"What about Jake? You couldn't live without Jake." I reminded him.
"He tried to steal my Van Morrison record last week, he's in trouble right now." He smiled softly.
I rolled my eyes at his words. I knew one twin could never live without the other. Honestly it would be hard for me to live without Jake. We had become good friends before me and Josh had even started dating and he'd been there for me many times.
"Seriously y/n, I love you so much and I'll keep loving you until the day we both float into oblivion." He grinned at his fancy words, knowing I only pretended to be annoyed by them.
"I love you too." I said, laying back down, feeling tired from the emotional rollercoaster that had been the past hour.
"You know, you could've just said die." I added before drifting off.
"Eh, that's too platitudinous." He answered.
I laughed, but thought for a moment, "You could've just said mundane." I added again, smiling with my eyes closed.
He sighed, before replying with "Yeah probably."
Spider-man Mark drabble please! Could be yandere 👀
A sigh escapes your lips as you begin your walk back home. Earlier, you had gotten into a bit of an argument with your best friend, Mark, over where he ups and disappears to, only to usually return beaten and bloody some time later. To say you're worried about him would be an understatement.
If only he would tell you what's going on. If only you could understand why he can't.
Cutting across the street, you nearly jump out of your socks as you hear a slight thump from beside you. Turning your head, you see the one and only friendly neighbourhood Spiderman standing off to the side.
"Uh, hi?" You shoot him a weary glance, a little confused as to why he would have shown up out of the blue here, especially when there's no danger about.
"Hi!" He greets a little too eagerly, before clearing his throat, "I mean, hey."
Your eyes narrow. That voice.
"Not that I don't appreciate you swinging by the city, but..." you trail off, noticing how he begins to walk alongside you as you continue on your way back to your apartment, "is there a reason you're walking with me?"
"You seemed upset," is his first response, until he sees the look you send him. Then, he's correcting himself. "It's late, and these streets aren't safe at night to be wandering around by yourself. I'll walk with you the rest of the way home."
Of course he would check up on you. He would never forgive himself if anything were to ever happen to you, especially not when he can do something about it. After all, you're his number one priority, and anyone or anything that threatens that... well, let's just say your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman would no longer be so friendly.
"That's awful kind of you," you say, somewhat suspiciously, "but how did you know I was walking home?"
He almost falters mid-step, "lucky guess?"
"Hmm," you hum, sparing a glance at him from the corner of his eyes. "I can look out for myself."
"I don't doubt that," he replies, much to your astonishment. "Like I said though, you seem upset. Are you okay? I've been told I'm a great listener."
You quirk a brow. "I'm sure you have. I don't want to bother the great and amazing Mister Spiderman with my woes, though."
"Please," he sounds a little too eager, "I insist."
You let out a little bit of an exaggerated sigh, "it's just... my friend."
"Your friend?" His brow furrows beneath the mask, and he wonders why you didn't say your best friend. He's smart enough to know it's him you're upset about. At least, he thinks it's him. If he's wrong, though, whoever made you this upset is going to pay.
"Yeah, I just worry about him a lot," you say. "He's always looking out for everybody but himself; a goody-two-shoes, if you ask me. I just wish he'd let me help him from time to time, or at least let me in on what seems to be going on in his life. I love him and I don't want to lose him."
Your words cause his breath to hitch in his throat, finding he has to control his breathing lest he want you to find out who he is. You're talking about him. You love him, just as he's always loved you. His head is spinning.
"I'm sure he knows that," he clears his throat once more. "I'm sure he feels the exact same way as you."
Glancing to him out of the corner of your eyes, a subtle smirk pulls at your lips, "I'm sure he does."
By now, you've managed to reach your building, standing just outside the doors to the lobby. You stop, turning to him one final time as you hold the door open to enter.
"Well, this is me," you smile softly. "That's for walking me the rest of the way back."
"Anytime," he mirrors your smile beneath his mask. "It was my pleasure."
You chuckle is like music to his ears. Perhaps he'll receive a text from you when he gets home asking to talk again thanks to this little conversation here.
"Goodnight, Mark," you say, turning around with that smile still on your features as he whispers a 'goodnight' right back, swinging off into the city in the next second.
Halfway down the block, he nearly begins to fall from the sky as your parting words truly hit him. Immediately, he's swinging back to your apartment, already seeing you sitting and waiting by the window to your fire escape.
Landing with another thud, though this time much softer than the first, you open the window for him.
"Took you long enough," you let out a small puff of air, as he whips off his mask.
"How did you know?" Mark's eyes are wide as he kneels before you, just on the opposite side of the window.
"You idiot," you roll your eyes, moving backwards into your apartment so he can follow you inside. "You really think I wouldn't recognize my best friend's voice?"
"So, I'm your best friend now?" He quirks a brow.
"Shut up," you roll your eyes. "Obviously you knew I was talking about you. I get why you wouldn't tell me now, though."
A brief silence settles over the both of you as everything truly sinks in, and Mark recalls your words from earlier. A goofy smile paints itself onto his features as he stares at you.
"What?" You laugh, hands on your hips as you stare back at him.
"You love me," he grins, and he sees you freeze, caught off guard by his words.
Avoiding his gaze, you look off to the side, "maybe so."
In a flash, he's closing the distance between your bodies, half stepping towards you while using his web to pull you into his chest that much quicker. His hands soon cup your face gently as he brings his lips to yours, holding you close and putting everything he wants to say, and has yet to, into it.
As soon as he feels you melting into his embrace, he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours.
"Good, cause, I love you, too," that grin is back, and never has he spoken words more true, "and I will let nothing hurt you, or come between us again."
houston, can you hear?🕯️
this one goes out to @houseofdabs and @early20sfailingplenty , because i was beside myself hearing them talk about lester a little while back. i hope you two are doing well, just wanted to give you guys a little something for your troubles. 🥺❤
SFW | Word Count: 1,795 | Lester Sinclair x GN Reader
contains: canon typical/depiction of injury, light hurt/comfort
🎼: x, x, x
also, once again i am demanding everyone listen to almond’s lester playlist
He didn’t so much step out of the truck as he did fall out, bracing the handle above his head as he landed foot first and fought against his knees wanting to buckle under him. Everything screamed out in the same dull ache, the scuffle he had fallen into long over but the bruises he was left with giving no solace. Lulling ambiance of the woodland on every side of where Lester called home enclosed him in the sounds of crickets, the occasional frog sometimes breaking through, echoing along the still of the night. He huffed off the pain, the need to wince settling back deep in the pit of his chest, and he then glanced over to where he needed to be.
Catching the light that was still on, a warm orange glow from one of the house’s front windows, he then figured you were still awake.
You had been nodding off, head settled on the arm of the small sofa in the living room and a flannel blanket pulled over you to keep warm. It was a shitty place to take naps on, but you rarely did. With both people in the house holding down jobs that had them gone more often than not, you didn’t really get to enjoy much of this place besides using it to eat and sleep. That didn’t matter, necessarily, because the little time made up for the busy schedules. Every night, you would reunite with Lester, and things were just better – even if you two didn’t do anything besides eat dinner and go to bed.
The sound of the door being pushed open made you immediately stir, the arm that had fallen to the floor bracing as you pulled yourself up before you could even open your eyes. Lester caught sight of your messed up hair, and was about to apologize for waking you before you turned with the one thing to fix everything wrong with him on the inside before he could worry about the outside anymore.
“Hey, Les.” Your smile was so natural, contrived from a pure recognition that he had come home rather than some performative gesture. Sometimes, he’d catch his brothers doing it: just nodding at him because they felt like they had to. Since stumbling upon you, and somehow convincing you to stick around, every smile was something you meant through and through. No “nice” act, and no desire to appease him. Coupled with the groggy voice trying to perk up when you spoke, he didn’t stand a chance. “You’re home late.”
Even in the dim light, the large dark slash that traced around his shoulder and close to his neck was more than obvious, and even still sticky with blood as he rolled it uncomfortably. You beamed at the subtle nod he had given you, but it only lasted a second before your eyes fully opened, and as they took him in they immediately fell to it. It was like he could see the tranquility in your mind shatter as your expression iced over, smile falling from grace and eyes slowly becoming brighter, wider.
“…Lester-“ Your breath hitched when the realization set in, and he jumped at how quickly you scrambled up to stand. You weren’t looking at where you were going, eyes locked on the gash as you hopped awkwardly over the edge of the coffee table in your beeline to the front door.
“How deep is it? What did you do?” You asked, stare meeting his again, “Do we need to get someone? Hospital?” Lester’s eyes were bloodshot already and gleaming, and he sucked in a breath to say no but nothing came. Taking in the look on his face, your hand came up, not quite meeting him but smoothing the air around for some sort of comfort. “H-hey, don’t worry.” You gasped, voice falling back to that gentle coo you had before, “We can do something-“
You were bolting away again, body turned around even before you pulled your eyes away from him and heading towards the hallway off from the living room; where the bathroom was, and the first aid kit.
Since when did you learn where that was put?
The man felt a quiet pang in the back of his chest, making him unable to ease you back down. Normally, he was the one having a handle on the anxiety shot through all other rational thought, but for once he was simply choking as he heard a clamor from the bathroom. The lights flashed on from the crack in the door, and he saw a shadow of your arm frantically digging into something.
“How bad’s it bleeding?” You hollered. Your hands grabbed onto a box of band-aids, distracted once more as you lifted your head. The gash was way too big for them, but in the moment you were more concerned about the lack of an answer. You called again, “Les...?” and then dropped the box, finding an unopened roll of gauze.
Lester knew how to patch other people up, he had done it for you and the twins a few times since you had met him, but as time had gone on, you’d notice that he always seemed to leave scrapes on his own elbows be, licking blood off of a cut and then letting it sit uncovered until it scabbed over. Some call it personal preference, you thought of it as a lack of care. If he did it for them, why didn’t he do it for himself? Since then, you found yourself stepping into that empty space whether he wanted you to or not.
Someone had to do it for him.
You pulled the gauze along with a palm-sized bottle antiseptic into your hands and shouldered the door open. “Lester, what’s up? Why aren’t you answering me?”
He had been staring at the living room with a hand tracing along the cut. Hearing you approach, he looked over and finally stammered, “Aw, sorry. Got a little distracted.” He tried to laugh, but you were only looking at him with a soft squint, and it shot him down quickly.
“Come on,” You murmured as you took his wrist, hand sliding to intertwine with his fingers. The way it fit was etched in your mind, immediately smoothing your nerves as you fell into it for what felt like the millionth time. It still wasn’t enough. He didn’t hesitate to walk with you with a simple tug, staring at the back of your head and still a little lost to what you were doing.
Rather, why you were doing it.
“You gotta be up early tomorrow.”
Hearing him speak for the first time since you had started to work on covering the slash, you glanced at him and insisted, “So do you. It’s fine.”
He glanced at your hand running against your pant leg, wiping the antiseptic and blood from your palm, and went back to silence. It didn’t feel right, especially since you and him blabbered to each other constantly. He could tell you were unsure about it too, eyes lingering on him every time you looked at his face. You tried to guess what he was thinking, because it had to be something he didn’t feel right to say. Not a common occurrence, but that just made you even more inept in knowing what to do when it happened.
You swallowed when you felt the thought come up, “I hope you don’t think I’m doing this because I don’t think you can’t do it yourself, by the way. I just got a little scared, have to rush to fix things.” Lester cocked his head at you, smiling in an almost confused manner as you pressed the gauze against his neck, but you insisted, “I’ve seen you do this enough with Bo and Vince, but…no one does it for you, really. Unless I just miss it.”
“Course they helped me out before. Showed me how t’do it, actually.” He replied, “Don’t need it all the time. I got a good immune system.” Despite that, you caught an emotion you could only recognize as realization flash in the darkness of his brown eyes. When your hands fell from him, you motioned to get up and he immediately looked back, thought bubble popped again. The smile on your face returned, and you assured him, “I’ll be right back, just need to put this away.” You held up the bottle, and then strode back to the bathroom, doing the same little klutzy hop over the coffee table.
When you had first moved in with him, Lester could remember nearly every other day you would trip on that edge. Now, you vaulted over it without even thinking. It was like you had just found every crooked edge in a life with him, and filled it with a comfort he hadn’t remembered feeling before. Nothing forced, nothing to get comfortable with because you had to.
You wanted to. Why did you want to?
As soon as you had returned, you looked at your handiwork on his shoulder with a slight pride, but mostly relief. You inched closer on the sofa until you were hip to hip with him, and rested your head against his shoulder very gently, eye flickering to the wound before getting comfortable when Lester didn’t flinch or wince.
That tightness in his chest returned, looking over as you murmured, “Well, I’m happy you made it back in one piece. I would’ve been worried if I hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly.”
Lester tried to play off, “Naw, would’ve been fine.”
“Me? Without my best friend?” He snapped to look at you again, your voice tilting in a pitiful murmur. You saw the way his jaw loosened, half open as you then mimicked his accent with a snort, “Naw.”
Swept up in a giggle to yourself, you didn’t see the way his eyes welled up a little, but he quickly looked to the other side of the room, horrified at his own response and trying to silently take a deep breath. A hand found its way from your side to your shoulder, elbow resting as his arm came up to settle on your hair.
“Thought we were past best friends, [Y/N].” Your smile faltered at how small he sounded, covering it the best he could as he laughed a little. Mindful of the gauze, you reached to hold his face and press a kiss into his grimy cheek, the stubble itching your lips.
“We’ve always been friends. We just fuck each other now.” You joked back, and the life returned to his voice as he laughed at you, turning to finally meet your kisses with his own.
It felt as though the sun was already coming up over him.
I just read your reply. I actually wanted to ask for Idia Shroud's character analysis. Ignihyde chapter is out just recently so maybe you haven't read it! I would definitely love to read your take on it but please don't force yourself to do it!
I know character analysis can be really difficult and consume a lot of time so feel free to ignore if you're not comfortable with Idia!
Have a great day and thank you for your hard work 💓. Please take care of yourself
-- ! ohhh i've been wanting to tap into idia because he's just the most adorable introvert i've seen so far but yet is such a complex character! once again i apologize if any of my analysis can be wrong, i mostly try to see the references between the disney counterpart and the character himself. But i have caught up with the main story and have gone back and forth between chapter 6 so it won't be all disney references but what I myself theorize ouo)9 so without furhter ado ~
ps. please be aware this is mainly just me writing without pause, it's not a proper analysis or anything + this is also spoilers from chapter 6! if you don't want to be spoiled, please skip this!
✧ a character analysis on idia shroud
in terms of disney references + what i think can happen in the main story
Let's start with the most glaring things about Idia. His disney references to the villain of Hercules: Hades. God of the Underworld. The similarities these two have with each other are both their flaming blue hair (that turns red when agitated or incredibly furious) and their actual feelings towards both of their respective occupations.
Hades in hercules was given the role of being the god of the underworld by his older brother Zeus. During of the movie we learn that good ole Hades, hates this so called "gift." the Underworld is gloomy, depressing and overbearing - simply he hates it and during the whole movie he has the goal of usurping Zeus realm, Mount Olympus.
Idia, as far as I've understood from what we have been given of chapter 6, doesn't particularly like his own occupation as the heir of styx company, but unlike Hades doesn't try to overthrow or go against this role that was destined to him since birth. He abides it, albeit not without complaining with every step how overbearing it is. But still, he takes responsibility.
This makes me think that, as much as Idia is tailored to be twst counterpart of Hades, his role and standing in S.T.Y.X Company as the heir closely resembles that of Megara, the heroine of Hercules who had previously sold her soul to Hades.
Idia himself is not fighting someone that is obviously in the "good" faction of this story. the mc, Rook and Epel were caught (although deliberately) so he's not actively fighting against his parents that has a much, much bigger standing than him. Heck he's the reason why they're even still alive.
Megara sold her soul to Hades in the movie. Idia was already bound to STYX the moment he was born as the heir.
So it may not be some merciful Hercules like hero that will beat him in the face. But maybe it will be a noble sacrifice that throws him over the edge. Like how Megara sacrificed her life to save Hercules. Will it take Ortho getting destroyed for Idia to go against his fate, or will Orthos destruction make Idia himself overblot and bring the whole STYX company down with him (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
idia's character in a whole
Hoo boy where do I even start with this gem of a character.
My first impression of Idia was probably the same as most: he's an introvert whose an otaku. The trope that most of these games have at least one character of. That otaku trope was given to Idia.
With that tiny bit of knowledge, I assumed he would be the comedic relief overall. Mind you this was before I actually started to read the main story where each chapter were about a specific dorm. So my further impression was made out of research I did myself about said comedic relief.
Antisocial, but loves his brother. Can't talk to save his life, But will curse you out logically in a whisper while being in the same room as you. Idia is very much a logical person. He avoids the people he wants to avoid, but he can talk to them if he wants to.
He goes off tangent talking about the things he loves, and is fueled by that. It's very much of what an introverted high schooler with a love for the online community would do.
But then the knowledge of how Ortho works comes in, and the knowledge that idia was the one that made ortho - and ortho calls him big brother.
And then everything just becomes 10x sadder because this boy probably needs a good old hug. The theory about Ortho is already well-known at this point.
And I can't really even come close to describing how heartbreaking it would be for Idia if that theory were to be true.
Spending endless days making a robot that's a splitting copy - having to constantly update it for it to function normally but can't alter the appearance because he doesn't know how Ortho would've looked like older.
And if that theory were to come true - his need to not want to be near anyone or get close to them is something i can understand.
Yes the people at Night Raven College is vastly different from him, he's scared of them, finds them annoying or downright bothersome. But they also give an inkling of light in an otherwise very dark and depressing world.
Heck he even plays online with strangers to have fun, but never connects with them.
Working at STYX, a company that specially works in seeing people lose themselves to their negative feelings or eventually die. I don't think he wants to get close to anyone just to lose them again.
Don't even get me started on the CM. Haha: "Hopes? Dreams? How sentimental. I am so choked up." THAT'S HADES LINES. HADES. HE HAS NO DREAMS NOR HOPE BUT HE SEES ORTHO AS HIS LIGHT.
HE TRIES TO GO TO ORTHO, THAT'S HIS DREAM AND HIS HOPE. BUT AGAIN, HE ACCEPTS HIS FATE INSTEAD OF GOING AGAINST IT LIKE HADES WHEN THERE'S BLACK SHADOWS DRAGGING HIM DOWN.
Someone better break Idia out of STYX and make sure Ortho doesn't get destroyed before he overblots.
To Be Alone | Tommy Shelby x OC | Chapter 10
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC
Summary: Celia invites Tommy over to her new home as a thank you. There, he meets one of her family members. Celia then has a run-in with another Shelby at the hospital. Later, she goes to the betting shop in order to get to the bottom of a mysterious letter that showed up at her house with Tommy’s name on it.
Warnings: language, smoking, drinking
Word Count: 3592
A/N: I’m SO happy that you’re enjoying the development of Tommy and Celia’s relationship as much as I enjoy writing it! As always, feedback is appreciated! :)
Let me know if you want to be tagged!
"Hello, Ms. Gray. Are you here for those pieces that you requested to be adjusted?" Celia greeted one of her favorite customers right after she walked through the door.
"Yes, I am," Polly nodded her head and off Celia went. She retrieved the few things that were needed before meeting the older woman back at the counter. "How is that apartment treating you, Celia?" she questioned then, bills ready in hand as Celia tallied the total on the register.
"Oh, it's lovely, Polly. I feel so much happier when I am there," Celia beamed, becoming instantly happier just thinking of her place that she had worked to turn into a home in just the two short weeks since she had been living there.
"I am happy to hear that," Polly smiled knowingly, handing over the bills before she gathered the items in her hands.
"Wait, Polly, can I ask you something?" Celia stopped her then, not even noticing that she called her by her first name until after it was out. Polly didn't seem to mind though.
"And what's that?" she questioned, an intrigued look in her eyes.
"Could you possibly ask Tommy to stop by later this afternoon? Around four, when I get off of work," she asked hesitantly hoping she'd be able to relay the favor.
Polly's mouth parted into a slight 'o' shape. "Why would you want Thomas at your place? Is something wrong with it?" she questioned, her words relaying one message while her eyes and features thought up another.
"I just wanted to have him by for dinner. To formally thank him for practically giving me the apartment," she explained herself, her cheeks heating up slightly.
"I'll relay the message," Polly nodded her head firmly then, "can't guarantee he'll follow through. Boy's always got business on his mind."
"Thank you, Polly," Celia smiled at her, feeling slightly relieved that she agreed to do what she asked.
"Fair well, Celia," Polly smiled once more before she left the shop.
Things were going well. Celia had the fire lit, the windows opened, and the vase of flowers sitting on proud display in the center of the table. She was humming to herself as she worked on the stew she planned on making, hoping that Tommy would be alright with something simple. Her heart just about stopped when she heard a knock on the door. Was that him? Already?
"Ma?" she sounded confused when she pulled the door aside to reveal her mother, standing with a basket in her hands.
"Hello, dear!" Eliza greeted warmly as she stepped in once Celia made enough room for her to enter.
"What're you doing here, Ma?" Celia questioned. It's not that she didn't want to see her mother, it's that she didn't want to see her mother right now.
"What, I can't come to my daughter's home?" she questioned incredulously, a teasing glint in her eyes. "I've even brought you a housewarming basket. It's got some loaves of bread in it from the local baker's as well as some hand towels I've sewn myself," she remarked proudly then.
"That's lovely, mom, thank you, and it's not that it's just..." Celia sighed, feeling rather embarrassed to be in this position. Why should she be though? This was her house. She makes the rules here. So why did she feel like a teenager who got caught sneaking a boy into her parents house? "Well I've got someone coming over. I was expecting them soon," she told her mother then.
"Oh? Is William coming? I'd love to see him again," Eliza smiled at the thought of seeing the boy who made her daughter happy.
"He's not who I'm expecting. It's actually, erm..." two sharp knocks on the door stopped Celia before she was able to reveal who was coming, because that person had decided to now reveal themselves. "I think that's actually them," she stated, placing the spoon she was using down on the counter beside the stove before she moved towards the door to open it. It was no surprise to her when she opened the door to see Tommy Shelby there in a fine suit with a bottle of red wine in his hand. Her mother, on the other hand, was completely shocked, her mouth open in the shape of an 'o'. "Hi, Tommy," Celia smiled, stepping aside for him to enter the apartment, which he did, taking his peaked cap off when he stepped across the threshold...the peaked cap that had razor blades sewn into it. Oh this wasn't a good idea.
"Hello, Celia. I've brought this as a housewarming present since you've so graciously invited me to dinner with you," he stated, holding the wine up into view and allowing her to take it.
"The flowers were enough, Tommy," she stated bashfully, accepting the wine anyway when he didn't move from his position, "now I'm going to have to invite you over again to thank you for this, what type even is this?" she said before examining the wine. She had never seen the regal looking label in her life.
"And I'd accept that also," he nodded, a smirk forming on his features that Celia rolled her eyes at. "It's imported directly from Italy. Polly drinks it. Gave me a bottle to bring. She said it's good. I wouldn't know though. Not much of a wine drinker myself," he explained the wine's origin then.
"Care to introduce your friend, Celia?" Eliza piped up before Celia could say anything, sending her daughter a suggestive smirk, to which Celia glared at.
"Fine then. Ma, this is Tommy. Tommy, this is my mother, Eliza Farraday," Celia then proceeded with the introductions, watching as Tommy stepped over to where her mother was sitting and reached his hand out to her.
"Thomas Shelby," he formally introduced himself, remaining straight-faced as her mother stood before shaking his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Thomas," she smiled, shaking his hand before looking him up and down, "you own that betting shop on Watery Lane, don't you?" she questioned then.
"'S one of the ways I make a living," Tommy nodded his head, his hands going into his pockets then.
"My husband's been to your shop a few times," she started, making Celia tense up. Here we go. Tommy mumbled an 'oh' before she continued. "One of your men kicked him out for good. Joe said he was told he was being too brash with the bet-takers," she shook her head as she remembered it. Celia didn't know where she was going with this and it sort of scared her. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to give her houseguest a lecture.
"I'm sorry to hear that, but if they..."
"No, no, I'm not mad at that. If anything I wish there would be some of your men at the other places he goes to piss our money away," she cut him off, bitterness in her words as she talked about her husband's problems. She took a deep breath, composing herself before she spoke again, "I'm sorry for putting a damper on things," she sighed before smiling at the two, "I'll leave you two alone now."
"It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Farraday," Tommy nodded to her as she moved towards the door, Celia following her.
"It was nice meeting you too, Mr. Shelby. Look out for my daughter, please," she responded, sending Tommy a look that Celia couldn't decode, but Tommy seemed to understand.
"I will," he nodded once more, watching as Celia gave her mother a hug and opened the door.
After promising that she'd still stop by her parent's from time to time, she shut the door once more, leaving her and Tommy alone. "I'm sorry about that," she stated, eyes shifting everywhere but to the man standing across from her.
"Don't be. It was nice to meet her. She seems like a good person," he brushed off her apology, shaking his head.
"She's the best," Celia agreed to his statement with a smile.
"If you'll excuse me..." he cleared his throat then, reaching into his pants pocket for his pack of cigarettes, "I need to smoke," he said then, moving towards the door with the intent to do it outside.
"There's no need for that, Tommy," Celia stopped him just as he opened the door. Frozen with the doorknob in his hand, he turned to look at her, "you can smoke in here. I don't mind," she told him, watching as he nodded his head and shut the door. She watched him then as he lit a cigarette and looked around the room.
"I like what you've done with the place," he spoke after a moment of silence. Celia smiled at his statement.
"What do you think of the flowers?" she asked with a grin then. Tommy chuckled, obviously knowing she was talking about the flowers that he had gifted her when she first moved in. How she managed to keep them alive for that long was beyond him.
"I think they tie the place together. Would've gotten you something else had I known you were gonna fill all of the window ledges with plants though," he responded, motioning to the substantial amount of greenery that was thriving thanks to the sunlight shining in through the windows. Ok, so she was a plant lady, so what? Seeing them lined up against the windows brought her happiness.
"I use them for cooking. They serve a purpose, but they're just boring and green," Celia explained the reason behind the vast amount of plants on the ledges as she looked over at them, "the flowers you gave me are beautiful. And I love them dearly," she smiled back at Tommy before she looked down at her stew again. "It's about finished," she stated then, moving the pot off the flame before grabbing two bowls, "I hope you're going to eat some."
"I came with an empty stomach," he grinned. Celia then moved to the table with two bowls, setting one down in front of each of the chairs before she moved the basket her mother gave her over to the counter.
"I've got some bread here too, compliments of my mother," she stated, cutting a few pieces from the loaf before she brought those over as well. They both sat down then, and Celia watched as Tommy tried a spoonful. He then looked at her, chuckling as he saw her intent expression. "So how is it?" she asked him the second he stopped chewing.
"It's good, love," Tommy answered, chuckling as she did a little happy dance in her seat before she started to eat too. Celia couldn't wipe the smile off of her face for the rest of the evening.
"I just don't know what to do, Sophia," Celia sighed, running a stressed hand through her hair.
"More trouble in paradise?" she questioned, her eyebrows raised.
"I think I've been out of paradise for a while," Celia started matter-of-factly then.
"Then maybe it's time to end it," Sophia suggested. Celia stopped the mopping she was doing and looked over at her friend, "I'm serious, Cel. You've said it yourself just now. If it's not paradise, then why are you wasting your time? You seem to be having more fun with Tommy Shelby, inviting him to dinner and whatnot."
"Tommy is a friend, and the dinner was me thanking him for the apartment," Celia stated sternly. Sophia gave her a look.
"I'm not commenting further," she shook her head, making Celia huff, her mind processing the things that had just been said. She wasn't wrong in saying that her and William were far from 'paradise' in terms of a romantic relationship. Sure, they still spent time together, but there was barely any physical aspect. Hell, he hardly ever held her hand or linked his arm with her's anymore.
With a sigh, Celia spoke again, "I don't know, Soph. I just wish...I guess I just want some proof. Some type of confirmation that he's feeling this way too. Cuz if he's just grand, and I'm stuck feeling like this, I'm not going to be able to be with him much longer," she tried to put what she was thinking and feeling into words.
"I understand that completely. I think you at least deserve an explanation from him. You want to know if the past two months meant anything to him cuz they meant something to you," Sophia affirmed what Celia was saying, and that brought her comfort. It felt good to know that there was someone in her corner.
Before anything else could be said, the doors to the hospital opened to show a woman with her head down, looking concernedly at the younger girl she held in her arms. The girl was whining and clutching onto her wrist. "Could you help me please?!" she asked frantically as she approached the desk. As soon as she looked up, Celia identified the woman as Esme...John's wife. Celia was now even more worried for the child in Esme's arms.
"Yes, ma'am, I can," Sophia responded, moving around the desk to take a closer look at the child, "what's happened?" she asked, focusing on the wrist that the girl was clutching.
"She was playing on a tree at the park and she fell onto her arm weirdly. I think it may be broken," Esme explained, now calmer after the initial rush into the building. The girl has also calmed down more too.
"Alright. I will get her checked in and we'll take her right back to a room," Sophia explained, directing the woman to follow her, shooting Celia a glance before she left. Celia just sighed and went back to mopping the floor.
Then the doors opened again. "Where the fuck is me daughter?!" a familiar voice boomed through the otherwise empty reception room. The loudness of it made Celia jump and turn around to see who its owner was.
"John Shelby, you cannot be screaming like that in here. You'll scare the patients," Celia scolded him slightly, setting her mop down for the second time that day. She laughed to herself when she realized that this wasn't the first time she had scolded a Shelby for yelling in the hospital's halls.
"Where's me daughter, Celia?" he asked her once he realized who was talking to him.
"Esme brought her in. They took her right back to a room, to treat her arm because they think it may be broken," she filled him in, watching as he drug a stressed hand through his hair.
"Are you a nurse here?" he asked her an unrelated question then.
"No. I just clean," she responded, motioning to the mop and bucket that were leaning against the wall just to her left.
"Then how do you know all this, eh?" he asked another question, eyebrows furrowed as his voice strained.
"I was out here when Esme brought her in. My friend is the nurse who's attending to her," she gave him more answers before sending him a sympathetic look. "She's gonna be alright, John," she told him then, nodding her head assuringly when he looked over to her.
"Am I able to go back with her?"
"Yeah, although I'd advise against running back there like a madman. Keep your wits about you, yeah?" she smiled at him, feeling slightly better when he let out a chuckle and smiled back.
"Yeah," he agreed, chuckling once more, "thanks, Celia," he said before going to walk down the hallway and find his wife and daughter. Celia, once again, grabbed her mop and continued going on the floors. She hoped that would be the last bit of excitement for the night. She really needed to get the floors done.
Celia walked down Watery Lane, which was now a familiar street to her, although she had a different destination in mind. Stopping at the door she was looking for, she knocked three times to have it opened by a man who dressed in a similar style to Tommy, although his suit did not look as high-end.
"Are you here for something, miss?" the man asked her, peering around her at first before he focused his eyes back on her figure.
"Uh yes...I'm here to see Tommy Shelby," she answered, attempting to peer around him then, seeing nothing though because his stature was so big.
"Do you have an appointment?" the man asked in a rather imposing way, eyebrows raised. Tommy Shelby must've been a well sought after man, Celia thought to herself.
"No, I don't," she started, rushing to continue before the man shut the door in her face, because he looked like he was about to, "but I have this letter. It showed up at my home and it's addressed to him," she finished her statement by holding up said letter, clearly showing that it was addressed to Mr. Thomas Shelby.
"I'll take it to him then," the man stated, reaching forward for the letter, but he was unable to grasp it because Celia had moved it away from him.
"I'm sorry, but I'd like to be the one that gives it to him," she was stern with her statement, her expression telling the man she wouldn't take no for an answer. The man sighed then, stepping aside to let her enter while mumbling something that Celia couldn't be too concerned to hear. He then pointed her in the direction of Tommy's office and she set off for it. Her next obstacle was a woman who had short, dark, almost black, hair, sitting behind a desk next to the door that had a placard that read 'T. Shelby' on it. She looked up from her paperwork, the 'what do you want?' expression clear on her face. So Celia explained herself once more: "I'm here to see Tommy Shelby. I received a letter addressed to him at my house and I'd like to give it to him."
"You couldn't have just mailed it?" she asked, propping her chin up on her hand after she rested it on the desk, an uninterested look on her face.
"I wanted to give it to him personally. I'm his friend and, well, uh..."
"Oh you're his friend?" the woman cut her off, a suggestive glint in her eye. Celia knew exactly what she was thinking. She didn't need this right now.
"Yeah. His friend," she responded, stressing the word, no double meaning to it in her mind although the woman didn't look to be so easily swayed. Letting out a huff of annoyance, which was building inside of her by the second, she glared at the woman, "is he in his office or not?" she asked then, hand on her hip.
"Yes he is. Go ahead," the woman waved her along and Celia didn't waste a second before she was at the door, going to knock before she entered, of course.
Before she was able to, she heard Tommy's voice, and he didn't sound happy. "It's not that fuckin' hard to understand. You're going to put the alcohol under the automobile parts and then you're going to fuckin' ship it to America." Celia hadn't heard him speak like this before and it made her hesitant to face him. She had to though. She had to get to the bottom of this note and the burly, intimidating man that delivered it to her.
"Careful," the woman at the desk spoke almost teasingly, a smirk on her face. That was all Celia needed to go ahead and knock. She’d do anything to get away from this witch.
"What?!" Tommy then yelled in response, obviously unhappy with the visitor, even though he didn't know who it was. This made Celia nervous again.
Soon enough the door was opened to show Arthur. "Ease up, Tom, eh? It's only Celia," Arthur called to his brother before greeting the lady waiting with a smile. "Come on in then," he waved her to walk past him and she listened, stepping into the rather elaborate office with the letter clasped in her hands. She still felt shy as she stared at Tommy, who was just finishing what was left of his glass of whisky, a cigarette perched between his fingers.
"Hello, Celia," he spoke in a low voice before he cleared his throat, almost like he was trying to compose himself, "why are you here?" he asked with furrowed eyebrows.
"Not that we don't wanna see ya, love," Arthur chimed in as he sat back down in one of the chairs that was across from Tommy's wooden desk. Celia sent him a smile before she focused on the task at hand.
"I have this letter for you," she started, happy her voice wasn't squeaky like a shy child because that's certainly what she felt like right now, "it's addressed to you and was brought to my house by a man." she finished, handing the letter over to Tommy, who studied it with furrowed eyebrows.
He then ripped the seal off of it and unfolded the letter that was inside. Celia waited with bated breath as his eyes scanned the page. "Fuck," he breathed then, dropping the letter to his desk as his hand came up to rub his eyes.
"What, Tommy?" Celia and Arthur said at practically the same time, both of them curious as to what the contents of the letter were.
"You're going to have to leave your apartment, Celia."
Post note: bit of a cliff-hanger!! What do we think is in the letter??
Tagged: @mootiemoose @theshelbyclan @alreadybroken-ts @cloudofdisney @stevie75
Looking Back: When Did Aizen Switch Places with Momo?
So this was originally going to be part of another post as part of context, then it become too long and unwieldy, so here we are.
As far as I can tell, it’s never made 100% clear at what point Aizen switched places with Momo during his fight again the Shinigami and Visords. It's not even certain how he got Momo up there in the first place, or when he activated Kyoka Suigetsu’s shikai ability to create the illusion it was himself being attacked by Soi Fon, Kyoraku and Toshiro.
It's been discussed a lot over the years across various forums, with some claiming chapter 684 finally showed when Aizen activated his shikai's power against the Shinigami, while others have come up with other ideas.
Does it really matter discussing this now that everything from this moment has been and gone for years? I guess not. Is this all just a massive plot hole I’m just reading way too much into it? Maybe. And a lot of what I have to say here isn't anything new, but I still wanted to make a post about it.
This is more just for me to finally put my thoughts together about this moment and come to a conclusion for myself. With that said I'd love to hear other theories or perspectives about when you think Aizen switched places with Momo. For reference, I'll be looking at chapters 389-392/ episodes 292 and 293 of the anime.
With all that out of the way, let’s get to it!
I think it’s important to go over what exactly the power of Kyoka Suigetsu is before we get into pin pointing when Aizen released Kyoka Suigetsu or swapped places with Momo. However, if you feel you're familiar with Aizen powers, feel free to skip to the next section:
To start off, the shikai's power, Kanzen Saimin (‘complete hypnosis’), affects the five senses, and according to the BLEACH wiki: “It controls the five senses to the point where it can make the target misinterpret another person's form, shape, mass, feel, and smell to be an enemy's.”
However, Aizen doesn’t need something solid to stand in his place and ‘be him’ when an illusion happens. For example when Halibel went in for the kill on Aizen, it turns out she had stabbed an illusion, there was nothing there; she basically stabbed thin air. Aizen didn’t swap places with anyone or get a corpse for her to stab, he just created an illusion of himself.
When released, Kyoka Suigetsu won’t create an illusion immediately, it just means the victim is now susceptible to being manipulated through their senses and falling for whatever illusion Aizen/Kyoka Suigetsu creates at any time while it’s in it’s released state. I’ve taken Aizen ‘activating’ his zanpakuto’s power to mean he is creating an illusion/manipulating the senses of his victim, not as him releasing his zanpakuto into it’s shikai state.
Aizen can have multiple illusions operating at the same time, whether that’s creating an illusion of people or objects being in front of the victim or affecting the environment around the victim to a certain extent (for example, if we look at when Aizen used his powers on Halibel or Toshiro [in chapter 170], we don’t see at what point he was able to get behind either them, making me think he used his powers to affect their sight and hearing so they wouldn’t see him moving behind them as they went to stab the illusion of him).
The only way to avoid it’s power is to 1) for the opponent to not look upon it when it's been released if it's their first time fighting Aizen or 2) touch the blade before the shikai's ability is activated.
It can only affect the senses so far. For instance, it doesn’t seem affect how one sees their environment (for example, Aizen can’t make you perceive you’re inside a building when you’re actually outside of it) or create some massive illusion bigger than the size of a human.
If I’m wrong about any of this let me know, but as far as I can tell this is how Kyoka Suigetsu’s shikai works.
When did Aizen activate Kyoka Suigetsu's complete hypnosis?
Chapter 684 may have revealed when Aizen activated Kyokya Suigetsu's power. In the chapter, Ichigo says he was able to react to Kyoka Suigetsu because while on his way to battle Yhwach he got the same strange feeling he got when Aizen “cast Kyoka Suigetsu on [the Shinigami]” (VIZ translation) in chapter 391; the panel that’s shown is when Aizen negated Soi Fon’s shikai ability.If we take this literally, this suggests he activated his shikai's ability after her second strike on him. This also suggests he actually was wounded by her (Soi Fon had stabbed him once and then tried to activate her shikai ability, Nigeki Kessatsu, just before stabbing him a second time) and that his right arm was frozen by Toshiro:
I wouldn’t have a problem with this being the moment it happened, except my main issue with this is after Aizen dissolved the whole illusion in chapter 392, he’s completely unscathed – no blood or tears/rips in his clothes or a patch of ice on his right sleeve:
The lack of ice you can get away with by saying he just brushed it off, but there would have to be blood or rips in his clothes from where Soi Fon supposedly stabbed him. The Aizen here is not an illusion and it’s made pretty clear from that point on this is the real one, given what happens in his next fight against Yamamoto.
I doubt it's an art error given that every panel of him after reveal is consistent in showing he isn't injured; also at the start of the chapter, Kubo showed where ‘Aizen’ had been injured, including where Soi Fon had stabbed him in the stomach:
If Aizen were really injured by Soi Fon, Kubo would have shown it.
As a result, this makes me think Aizen didn’t use Kyoka Suigetsu’s powers at that exact moment where he negated Soi Fon's shikai ability, but more likely some time just before this moment.
In terms of when he released Kyoka Suigetsu into it's shikai state:
Gin comments in chapter 390 that the others have no clue how Aizen’s power works [after Toshiro says he won’t even give him a chance to release Kyoka Suigetsu], implying that Aizen had already released it at this stage.
If Hirako’s pages in chapter 392 are any indication, he thinks it happened even before the battle began (he has a flashback to chapter 389, which is when Aizen vs the Shinigami and Visords started; Toshiro was the first to attack, which Aizen comments on and Toshiro commends him for not using his zanpakuto powers).
It’s been implied that Aizen just constantly has his zanpakuto’s shikai ability always activated, there’s never a point where it’s not ‘off’ while he’s in battle.
With all of the above in mind, I’m thinking Aizen released his zanpakuto long before he battled them, but he didn’t actually activate his shikai's ability until later in the battle, most likely around the time Soi Fon confronted him.
When exactly did Aizen swap places with Momo?
We get a few potential indicators:
A quick recap of Aizen vs Soi Fon, Kyoraku and Toshiro: in chapter 391, 'Aizen' goes to draw his zanpakuto to fight Soi Fon, but Toshiro prevents him from doing so when he freezes his arm. As a result, he finally gets injured when Soi Fon manages to stab him in the stomach once, then again to activate her shikai ability, only for 'Aizen' to the negate it and break his arm free of Toshiro’s ice, about to attack her. After that, Kyoraku injures him (according to the anime he stabs him under his left shoulder blade and through to his chest?) and of course Toshiro throws everything he’s got into stabbing him through the middle of the chest, slicing his zanpakuto through him to the hilt (and in the anime if the ice coming out the wound is any indication, maybe freezing a section of his insides). The beginning of chapter 392 shows 'Aizen’s' wounds, with Soi Fon and Toshiro’s being shown very clearly. However, after the reveal, we see the real Aizen has no damage at all, not wounded by either Soi Fon, Kyoraku or Toshiro, showing he never engaged in battle with the three.
It’s not until chapter 392 that Ichigo calls out and breaks the illusion, revealing Aizen had swapped places with Momo. Some think Ichigo was shocked by the battle and only found his voice to speak up after Momo had been stabbed, or that because Aizen was a lot faster than Ichigo back then, he moved with such speed Ichigo didn’t see what he did and only registered the aftermath of whatever he did to get Momo up there. Me personally, I’ve always been in the camp that Aizen likely used his powers to manipulate their sense of hearing, blocking out Ichigo’s voice to them (basically Ichigo was calling out to them long before but it was only after Momo was stabbed that they heard him, which was when Aizen chose to reveal who they’d really harmed).
Momo’s zanpakuto is still in its sheath when the reveal happens. This suggests either:
Aizen put her up there when Soi Fon was going to attack him, meaning it was actually Momo's arm Toshiro froze. Basically Momo saw Soi Fon about to stab her, went to grab Tobiume to defend herself, but Toshiro froze her arm before she could. Only problem with this is [while she is a master in kido] I don’t see Momo being powerful enough to negate Soi Fon’s shikai ability using either kido or her reiatsu. Also there isn’t any ice on her arm afterward when the illusion is dropped. Or,
she had no time to even think about drawing her weapon try to defend herself; Aizen put her up there just as an attack from either Soi Fon, Kyoraku, or Toshiro was coming in and she was inflicted by it.
Also upon this reveal we see her injuries. Aside from being stabbed by Toshiro, there's no sign of Soi Fon having injured her (maybe because her garments are black and make this less obvious??) but there’s also a random tear in her uniform on her left side as seen here:
I hate this moment so so so much ;_;
This could be from Kyoraku’s attack, even though there isn’t any blood to show this, but even in the panels before this one there were a few panel showing 'Aizen's' chest injury without any blood on him.
So from this I'm thinking Aizen swapped places with Momo either just before Soi Fon's second strike or after it, meaning I think Momo was likely injured by Kyoraku as well as Toshiro.
With all of the above in mind here’s how I think it went down:
Aizen activated his shikai sometime before the battle begun in chapter 389, but he didn’t create any illusions or manipulate anyone's senses until much later.
He fought everyone in chapters 389 and 390 and took down Komamura, Rose, Love, and Lisa with Ichigo watching on in shock.
When Soi Fon stepped in, Aizen spoke with her for most of the conversation but created an illusion immediately after he comments on her clones.
While Soi Fon talks with Aizen's illusion, the real Aizen flash-stepped down to Izuru and Iba and somehow got through the kido barrier cast over the injured Shinigami. He used his shikai before coming down, making it appear as though he’s still up there talking with Soi Fon from their perspective. Ichigo gets that strange feeling after Aizen creates the illusion, but he has no idea what is happening at the time and Aizen is too fast for him to perceive he's just moved away from Soi Fon.
Aizen grabbed Momo (who at this point Izuru healed up enough to remain conscious and maybe sit up but not completely understand what’s going on and is still in great pain) and flash-stepped back up just as Soi Fon has stabbed his illusion the first time. While flash-stepping to the ground and then back up to Soi Fon, Aizen may have used kido to conceal himself (Momo mentions using kido to conceal herself while she was setting up her kido net to fight against Mila, Sun-Sun, and Apacci; as she's considered a master in kido, I assume a Shinigami at captain level or higher could use kido in this way as well).
Now one of two things could have happened:
Aizen put Momo in front of Soi Fon, making it that she stabbed Momo in the stomach once, so her power has no effect. Illusion Aizen explains this as him negating her power, when in reality Soi Fon only stabbed her target once; Momo might be holding Soi Fon's arm in utter confusion about what just happened and trying to get her pull out Suzumebachi. This might be why Kubo used that particular panel in chapter 684, perhaps saying this was when Momo took Aizen's place. Or
Soi Fon just stabbed his illusion a second time, hence why it had no effect (Aizen could probably make it look like his illusion-self is powerful enough to appear not effected by her shikai ability), and while Soi Fon is distracted he puts Momo in his illusion's place on the ice where she creates a shadow and gets stabbed by Kyoraku. This might explain why Momo doesn’t appear to have Suzumebachi’s butterfly-shaped stamp on her or any sign of Soi Fon having wounded her.
In both scenarios, this all happens in a matter of seconds, given how fast Aizen and Soi Fon can be, so what has happened doesn’t register with Ichigo until it’s too late - and if Aizen used kido to conceal himself, Ichigo wouldn't have seen him until he had Momo there. Ichigo sees Aizen putting Momo where the real Aizen once stood, but he is so bewildered at first he doesn't call out.
When Kyoraku attacks, Ichigo starts calling out to the Shinigami when he realizes what’s going on but none of them can hear him (Aizen having manipulated their hearing to block him out) and he doesn’t get involved because of what they told him earlier about Aizen’s shikai.
While all of this is happening, Aizen flash-steps back down to the ground and conceals himself (either by kido or affecting the sight of everyone to just not see him there) and casting an illusion where Momo was to give the impression she's still there. After Kyoraku's attack, Shinji activates his shikai on ‘Aizen’, making everything appear backwards to Momo.
Aizen watches Toshiro stab Momo, and Ichigo is shocked into silence for a moment. Aizen lets everyone think it’s over for a minute and uses illusion Momo to draw Izuru and Iba away from the injured Shinigami. He reveals the illusion by finally letting them hear Ichigo (who finds his voice again) and unveiling himself to Iba and Izuru, who he comes up behind and cuts down. And the rest is history.
And now imagine this whole thing from Momo's perspective. I'll be talking more about this in my other upcoming post, but in short:
The angst, the angst!!
Other things to note about this moment:
What's up with Aizen's inner monologue before he gets stabbed by Toshiro?
We hear Aizen’s inner thoughts moments before he gets stabbed by Toshiro at the end of chapter 391. Honestly, I think this was Kubo trying to trick the reader/viewer (I guess you could say we were under Kyoka Suigetsu's influence too :P). The part where Aizen thinks about Toshiro rushing into battle could be real though; he's probably thinking it while he's on the ground watching all of this happen.
The answer is obvious: she is the one who will get the most rise out of Toshiro when the reveal is made. Here's the thing though: I've always felt like there was something more behind this.
Aizen's swap would have worked just as well with Rangiku. Rangiku means a lot to Toshiro and he would also be enraged if this had happened to her, likely to the point of charging at Aizen. The main reason Aizen didn't pick her I think is because of Gin; Aizen knew he had a connection to Rangiku and couldn't risk jeopardizing his partnership with him...at this stage (Aizen knew Gin intended to betray him, but he was curious to see how).
Also, am I the only one who feels like Aizen hates Momo in particular? He tried to have her killed by Toshiro, but when that didn't work, he tried to kill her himself. That also didn't work so he tries to have killed again in him vs everyone, and thankfully this also didn't work. Not only that, before he stabbed her in the Soul Society arc, he pretended to be his old self for longer than necessary. He could have acted for several seconds (just enough to let her guard down) before he rushes at her and stabs her. But this guy drags it out to the point that he's hugging, reassuring, and thanking her, ensuring she felt safe and happy, before he stabs her and gives her a look of contempt after she realises what's happened; he even smiles after leaving her to die and speaks about her to Toshiro as if she is an object of pity and irritation. In reality this was all probably dragged for dramatic effect and I'm just reading waaaaaay too much into it...but still!
Aizen seemed particularly brutal towards Toshiro
Aside from singling him out to antagonize and rile up, Aizen wounded Toshiro far more severely compared to the others he'd taken down. As far as I can see, Toshiro was the only one in the 'Aizen vs everyone' battle to lose his limbs, the others were taken down with deep cuts to their torso's and sides:
I may look into this in my upcoming post, but in the meantime this is just an observation I've had about the battle for a while now.
And with that I'll leave it here. I wasn't going to make a post about this, but as I said at the start, what started off as a bit of context for an upcoming post about how I think Toshiro and Momo reconciled after Aizen's defeated ballooned into this.
Thank you so much for taking the time to read to end if you did, and I'd like to know your thoughts on anything here or just about this moment in general.
From One Bike to Another (Part 4)
Click HERE for Part 3
Pairing:: Angel Reyes x Reader x Chibs Telford
Warnings:: swearing, angst, fights
My pounding head woke me up. Opening my eyes, the sunlight made it worse. I reached out and grabbed the Advil Chibs had left on the table for me. I sat up slowly and swallowed it, hoping it would relieve my pain sooner than later. I checked my phone and saw two new voicemails from Angel. I couldn't deal with it. Tossing my phone on the bed, I stood up and grabbed a change of clothes.
I walked out to the bar, holding my head. Screeching to a holt, I saw almost all of the club passed out around the room. A few were asleep on the floor, some on the pool table, on the bar. I worked my way over to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. Stepping over the people asleep on the floor, I walked outside.
The fresh air hit me in the face and felt amazing. Chibs was sitting at one of the picnic tables with Jax and Opie. He waved me over and headed towards them. I sat down beside him and he offered me a cigarette. "Thanks," I sighed as I took it. He held out a light for me.
"Didn't take you for a smoker," Opie chuckled as he took a drag of his own. I took a deep inhale, closing my eyes and enjoying the taste.
"Why's that?" I asked. He shrugged and laughed a little. I blew out the smoke in his direction and sighed, "What do smokers look like?"
Jax laughed, "Answer the question, Ope." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Chicken shit."
"What's goin' on with ye?" Chibs asked, nudging my shoulder. "More shit with Angel?"
"No, just woke up on the wrong side of the bed with a hangover," I said as I rubbed my forehead. "Sorry, Opie." He waved me off and crushed out his cigarette. "Angel called me again then. Didn't listen though. I don't have the energy to hear the same shit again."
"Breakfast!" Tara called, sticking her head out the door. The four of us stood up, following her in. I was starving and after the night before, I needed food in my system.
I sat at the bar with the guys as we talked and ate the bacon and eggs Gemma and Tara had made. Juice walked in from the back. I didn't realize he left during the party the night before. He had a bruise on his neck.
"There he is," Tig laughed, clapping a little. "This jackass closed lined himself at Oswald's last night." The guys laughed, patting him on the back. By the look of Juice's face, that wasn't what happened.
They kept talking about a vote they were going to have. A new president. Looking over at Clay on the other side of the room, I could see the smoke coming off of him. They weren't saying why and I was assuming it was because I was right there.
Tig looked up at the security cameras that were above the bar and asked, "Why're the Mayans here?" My head shot up as I saw Angel's green bike pull into the lot. Marcus was riding in front of him and it looked like Coco was riding beside him. My heart was in my throat.
I started trying to think of an exit strategy. Before I knew it, Chibs, Jax, and Tig were out the door. I watched on the security cameras, trying to make out what was happening. It was hard to tell because there was no sound, but Marcus made introductions and they were all talking. Angel pointed towards the clubhouse and started walking towards it, but Chibs got in between him and the door.
I could hear Angel yelling through the door, "I know she's here!" I was panicking. After everything that happened, I had never been so afraid. I wasn't afraid of Angel, but when he got pushed enough, there was no stopping him. I was worried about my newfound friends getting hurt if Angel started trouble.
Gemma and Tara stepped outside, hearing the commotion. I made the decision to follow them out. Standing behind them, I watched as the Sons kept them separated from us. Angel looked over at me, staring at me as I cowered behind the two old ladies.
It was as if we saw each other for the first time. His cheeks dropped a little, no longer squinting from the sun above. His lips curled into a small smile as he stared at me. He looked so happy, so relieved to see me. The only thing I was feeling was the need to run and hide as much as I wanted to be happy to see him.
He tried to walk over to me, but Chibs moved in front of him. "Yer no' goin' over there," Chibs growled. Even though Angel was a few inches taller than the Scotsman, Angel backed away. Coco was ready to fight, though, standing next to Angel. "Let's jus' calm down, and have a civilized discussion." Angel nodded, taking a step back.
"Why're you here, bro?" Jax asked. He looked between Angel and Coco and Chibs, waiting for an answer. As VP, he was trying to defuse the situation before it really got anywhere.
Coco scoffed, "He already said it," He took a drag from his cigarette and said, "We're here for Y/N." He pointed over at me. I swallowed hard after hearing that. Jax turned to look at me. I must've looked petrified.
Angel shook his head, putting his hand up in front of Coco. He sighed, "I just wanna make sure she's okay. She just took off."
"I'm fine," I said behind Gemma and Tara. I sounded so small and so scared, I didn't even recognize my own voice.
Chibs repeated, "She's fine. Now, ye can hop on yer bikes and go back to Santo Padre."
"I'm not leaving without her," Angel said, taking a step forward, making everyone take a step. "She's coming back with me."
"No, she's not," Chibs growled.
Angel yelled, "Who the fuck are you? Her gatekeeper?" He threw his hands up in the air and repeated, "Who're you, man?"
He shook his head and said, "Jus' someone who made her a promise ta keep her safe."
"Shit," I exhaled. I knew that was going to set Angel off. I could see it in his eyes, how fast they hardened.
"What the fuck did you say?" Angel scoffed. "What does that fucking mean?" Angel took a step forward, shoving Chibs backward. Chibs didn't even respond to him.
A brawl started in the parking lot. Chibs head-butted Angel hard, sending him to the ground. Jax and Coco were at each other's throats. Chibs was sitting on Angel's stomach, punching him over and over again. Angel punched Chibs in the gut and flipped him over. They kept rolling over the ground, blow after blow.
"Stop!" I yelled, making Gemma and Tara jump. "Stop it!" The men stopped in the tracks, looking back at me. Their faces dripping with blood and rapidly forming bruises. Angel was sitting on Chibs stomach. His arm was cocked back, ready to hit Chibs. "Just...stop," I said deflated.
Angel stood up and yelled to me, "What the fuck are you doing, querida?" Rubbing my face, Gemma and Tara took a step to the side so he could see me better. "What the fuck is going on?" he yelled, throwing his hands up.
"Angel..." I exhaled. He started walking over to me, but Chibs stood in between us. The lump was forming in the back of my throat. Seeing him there, after everything, was killing me. "Angel, I can't go back," I sighed. "I can't."
"Why the fuck not?" he yelled. He shoved Chibs back again, but the Scotsman didn't budge. "Come on, Y/N, let's just go home and talk about this?" he pleaded.
I stared at him. All I wanted to do was go home with him, be with him, put everything aside. But, I couldn't. Maybe I was just in my own head, making things worse than they needed to be. But, I couldn't do it. I shook my head, "There's nothing to talk about, Angel. I've made up my mind."
I walked back inside and I could hear him yelling my name over and over again. Looking back at the security camera, I watched as he tried to get into the clubhouse but Chibs and Tig kept him from getting any closer. Coco grabbed his arm and said something that made him walk back.
He was always so protective of me, willing to put his brothers into the hospital for me. The Sons weren't his brothers. He would do anything for me. But I didn't want him to cross the line and get killed because of me.
As I sat at the bar, watching the screen, I started crying. I didn't know what to do. It felt like the world was falling apart and I had no options. I had nowhere to run to. Gemma walked in and sat beside me. "What's all this about, sweetheart?" she asked, looking down at me.
"I did something stupid," I whispered. I stared at the bar as I spoke, keeping my head down. "And something happened because of it and I can't tell him because he'd wind up dead."
"Don't you think that's up for him to decide?" Gazing up at Gemma, I didn't know what she meant. Reaching over, she dried my tears and said, "Baby, you should tell him. And just see what happens."
I shook my head, chuckling, "You don't know Angel. He's going to react and turn up burnt in a ditch somewhere."
"No, I don't know Angel," she sighed as she kept drying my cheek. Something seemed so safe and motherly in her voice and touch. I didn't want her to stop talking. "But, I do know that it's his decision to get burned in a ditch."
I nodded and said, "And it's my decision to tell him. And I choose not to." I looked back up at the screens as Angel paced back and forth like a caged lion, stalking his prey. Turning back to her, I exhaled, "I can't."
"Well," she huffed, not liking taking no for an answer. Seemed like she didn't hear that very often. "You need to talk to him at least." I nodded, knowing she was right.
I stared at the floor in front of me, looking at our clothing thrown across it. Sitting on the bed beside him, my shirt discarded, his hand on my leg. I was worried that my lack of experience would scare him away. I had only been with one other person before Angel.
He pulled me into his chest, my bare arm hit his abs as he kissed my temple. "Querida," he chuckled. "You're not scaring me away that easily." Lifting up my chin, he pulled me into a kiss, holding me there. Slowly pushing me onto my back, he sighed, "You know I love you, right?" I nodded, looking up at him. "You know I would never hurt you, right?" I nodded. "Nothing is going to change that."
Sitting in the office attached to the garage, my knee bounced up and down as my hands slid over my thighs. My denim jeans dragged under my palms, making them feel tingly. Chibs was standing outside the door in case something happened. He was so sweet and protective, but I wished he was inside supporting me. Angel sat on the couch by the door, staring over at me.
"What's going on?" he asked, running his hand over his hair. I always loved it when he did that. He never ran his hand into his hair because of the amount of product in it. He was worried he was going to screw it up.
"I just need a break," I sighed, looking up at him. "A break from the MC, a break from the cartel, a break from Santo Padre."
"A break from me," he scoffed. "So you run from one MC to another? You know they're working with the cartel too, right? That's why they're so close with Padrino."
That's how Chibs knew about the cartel. What did they do with Galindo? How involved were they?
I came back to reality in the small office. Angel sat, leaning forward. He was staring over at me. Shaking my head, I sighed, "I didn't know that." Looking up at him, I said, "It doesn't matter." I scoffed, "The cartel has nothing...nothing to do with this. I just had to go. I needed to leave."
"But fucking why?" he asked, raising his voice. "What happened? We were fine and then you just fucking leave!" He lit a cigarette. He scratched his eyebrow with his thumb. "We were fine, Y/N. And you left. Why?"
"It doesn't matter," I exhaled. I shook my head, staring at the ground. I glanced over at his boots. I started thinking about all the times I got mad when he wore them in the apartment. He would track mud and dirt in that I would have to clean up. Snapping out of my thoughts, I looked back up at him as he inhaled his cigarette over and over again.
Angel scoffed, sliding to the edge of the cushion. "It does fucking matter!" he snapped. "I'm fucking worried about you! You just shut down and shut me out and fucking left!"
I exhaled, "Angel..."
"No, querida!" he yelled. "What the fuck is going on? Fucking tell me!" I looked down at the floor again. The floor wasn't yelling at me. "Please," he sighed, his voice softening. "Please tell me what the fuck is going on, Y/N."
"I...I can't, Angel," I whispered. "I want to. I really do. But, I can't." I started crying, leaning forward in my chair. Holding my head in my hands, I cried, "I can't tell you, Angel."
He stood up and knelt on the floor in front of me. "Hey," he whispered, grabbing my wrists. My head lost its support and looked up at him. "Hey, you can tell me," he exhaled. "You can tell me." I lost it. I collapsed into him, burying my face in the crook of his neck and falling to the floor. He fell back against the wall as he wrapped his arms around my back. "It's okay, babe," he sighed, rubbing my back. "Hey, it's alright."
"No, it's not," I sputtered as I cried. I started crying harder. I couldn't tell him. I didn't want to. That was when I started rambling. "I'm tired, Angel. I'm tired of the world we live in. I need to get away for my sake. For me."
I kept sobbing into him. He didn't say anything to me. He just held me in his arms and rubbed my back until I calmed down. I heard footsteps in the doorway and then the door close gently. I assumed Chibs heard everything and was really giving us a moment alone.
I stopped crying but stayed in the place in his neck. He asked, "Will you please tell me what happened, baby?" I didn't say anything. This was my biggest fear. "I know you're lying to me." I could feel how tense and worked-up he was getting.
"I don't know," I lied, mumbling into his kutte. As much as I wanted him dead, I couldn't send Angel on a suicide mission. He pulled me out of my place to look at me. "I don't know, Angel."
"Tell me what happened," he ordered softly. He was trying to stay calm. Trying to keep me from breaking again. I could see it in his eyes. He was losing his mind. He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and cupped my cheek. "Tell me, querida."
I shook my head, "I can't. I'm sorry, Angel." I stared down at the ground as I spoke quietly. "I need a break. I need some time away from you and Santo Padre. Please, just take that answer. Please, just go home."
He moved his hand to my chin and lifted my gaze up. "I love you, Y/N. I'd do anything for you. Why do you need to take a break from me? What did I do? I'll fucking fix it."
"Angel..." I exhaled. I knew he was going to keep pushing me for an answer. "I can't. I'm tired and I'm done. With us. We're done, okay?" I stood up and moved over to the couch. "You have to accept that. I'm staying up here and you're going back down south. That's what's going to happen."
"Fuck that," he scoffed. He stood up and walked over to me. "I'm not leaving until I know what happened. That's what's going to happen. You can say you're done with me, but I'm not done with us."
There was a knock on the door and we both looked over. Coco stood in the doorway. He had one hand in his pocket and the other wrapped around his cigarette. Staring down at us, he sighed, "Bishop needs us back in SP. Gotta get ready for that run."
"I'm staying here," Angel stated. "I'm not leaving just yet." Coco made a face, about to argue. "I'm not done up here." He nodded and pulled out his phone, walking back into the parking lot.
"Angel, go home," I whispered. He shook his head, running his fingers down my neck. "Angel, I'm okay. Go handle the club stuff. They need you. I don't need you anymore. I'm fine here with these guys."
He shook his head again. He whispered, "I need you. The club is nothing and you're everything." I shook my head to keep myself from crying again.
"Please, Angel, just go," I whispered so quietly. "Please, go." He shook his head, hellbent on staying.
Marcus and Coco pulled out of the parking lot. Angel's green bike sat alone next to the Sons' black ones. I walked out of the office and into the clubhouse. Chibs rushed along beside me.
"Did ye tell him?" he asked. I shook my head, looking down at the ground as I walked. "Why not?"
"Y/N!" Angel called from behind us. "Wait up!"
"Can you just...keep him away from me for a little bit? I need to decompress and figure out what the fuck to do," I sighed.
He nodded, "Aye, I can do that." He stopped walking and turned around to Angel. "C'mon, need yer help with somethin'."
Trauma really does stuff to you. I am a competent adult and I'm extremely good at my job, and yet as soon as someone says, "Actually could you do it this way instead," my hair trigger I'm gonna be in trouble alarm goes off and I have to cry for two hours before I can email back and say, "Yes, of course! Thanks for letting me know!"
Like I know I whine about my mom everyday but like literally what is her issue
A black girl will be spending years in jail because she had a mental health crisis. PLEASE READ
Meet Saraya: she was experiencing a mental health crisis. Police came and tackled her. She is 15.
Saraya Rees is a 15 year old biracial girl from Coos County, Oregon. After being abruptly instructed to stop taking her antidepressants by a local pediatrician, Saraya went into psychosis. In her manic state, Saraya poured a small amount of gasoline on the floor. Her parents called Coos Health & Wellness in hope that that would send mental health advisors, Coos Health & Wellness sent the police. While still in psychosis, the officers arrested her, questioned her without her family or lawyers present, charged with attempted murder and assault, and sent her to juvenile prison for 11 years.
This is not justice.
This is inhumane.
WHAT YOU CAN DO TO HELP:
1. Call these people and demand that she be let go to the custody in her parents.
Please call Governor Kate Brown and Senator Jeff Merkely.
📞Governor Kate Brown: (503) 378-4582
📞Senator Jeff Merkley: (503) 326-3386
2. Sign the petition!
Please DO NOT donate to CHANGE.ORG, instead donate to Saraya’s gofundme.
3. Follow @justice4saraya on instagram. You can find info on where to send her encouragement cards and get updated on progress.
4. SEND CARDS TO THE FOLLOWING (please also note card sending rules)
OAK CREEK CORRECTIONAL FACIILITY
C/O SARAYA REES
4400 LOCHNER ROAD SE
ALBANY, OR 97332
EDIT: PLEASE CONSIDER THESE RULES WHEN SENDING HER CARDS! The family has asked for the following when sending cards:
-No vulgar language or cursing (she’s a child, afterall)
- Do not use return address stickers
Using these things could mean Saraya doesn’t get your card. If you want to donate to the family during this very hard time, please use the GOFUND ME.
You can also send her gifts for when she gets out to a PO BOX:
SARAYA’S PO BOX
PO BOX 211
MYRTLE POINT, OR 97458
MENTAL ILLNESS IS NOT A CRIME. LET’S FREE OUR GIRL SARAYA!!!
Saraya’s website: https://www.justice4saraya.com/
UPDATE EDIT: Jan.5.2021: Saraya has written a letter:
Dear Mom and Dad,
I want you to post this on every social media platform that you can. I want you to do so, so that everyone knows how messed up the system is and how messed up the state is.
I don’t care if people know about my “crimes”, and I don’t care if people know I’m in prison. All I care about is letting people know the truth, this for me, and all of the rest of the kids in the system. This is what really, this is the truth....
I am Saraya Rees. I’m 14 years old, and I’m being charged with attempted murder x2. And attempted aggravated assault x1. I was arrested July 8th, 2019. I was in a detention for 3 months and 9 days. I spent my 14th birthday in Juvy. Not only that, but I have been sexually and physically harassed and the staff did nothing to help. I physically hurt myself even though I was on suicide watch.
They allowed the boys to make sexual gestures and comments to all of the females. The staff at my Juvy made fun of people who self harm or attempted suicide. They would do that right in front of the kids who have done that. Out of all the staff there was only one that was respectful. That staff’s name was Tom (thank you Tom for helping me through all this BS).
The reason I’m telling (whoever it may concern) this, is so you know what really happens in the system. But now I’m going to tell you why I’m really stuck in prison. I am being held in prison because I cried for help. People who know me, know I’ve done many things as a call for help. This was all of the biggest, what I did was pour a small amount of gasoline of the floor at my house. I was never going to light it, but the police and the court all said otherwise.
When in comes to the court they don’t care about the fact they care about tearing people and families apart. The kids that they arrest are the kids who are being sexually and physically abused at home, the teen moms, the kids looking for love in the wrong places, places because their families don’t want them, the kids who are hurt, the kids who are suicidal. They arrest the misunderstood and that is not fair.
They arrest kids even if they have never committed the crimes, they arrest kids for no reason sometimes. As citizens of Oregon we need to take a stand, we need to stick up to this injustice. Please help get the kids like me who, without their families have nothing to hold onto. No reason to continue living out of places like this...please. Join our cause at #takeastand4oregon.
-Saraya Rees, 15 (she was 14 when this was written, I believe) (currently serving 11 years for a crime she did not commit)
MARCH 15. 2021 UPDATE: SARAYA HAS A HEARING! KEEP CALLING!
⚠️UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE⚠️
Saraya is going back to court for a review hearing!!
OYA neglected to transfer Saraya to an inpatient mental health facility despite the fact that Saraya has completed the program at Oak Creek Correctional Facility months ago. It was stated back in October that Saraya be transferred once she completed her trauma work, but her PO officer continues to create more obstacles to keep Saraya incarcerated. Saraya will be back in court soon for her review hearing.
All positive vibes greatly appreciated. This could be a huge step in the right direction. 🤞🏼
Please visit justice4saraya.com for more on her story and ways to help.
April. 13. 2021 UPDATE: THE FAMILY NEEDS YOUR HELP (via instagram)
1) We are looking for a level 5 inpatient residential facility (level 5 means it's being medically managed) ANYWHERE IN THE COUNTRY that works with Juvenile Youth with Saraya's charges. If you work with a facility that has these resources and are willing to work with Saraya and her family please contact the Justice4Saraya Instagram or the Facebook page in a direct message.
2) Private residential facilities outside of state-run care are notoriously expensive. In the state of CA and FL, these homes can run up to 50k per 30 days of treatment. We are looking for more amplification of the family's GOFUNDME page in order to get the best long-term treatment for Saraya and her family. They will require much individual and family therapy in order to heal from this atrocity and broken system. Please donate if you can or spread the word.
For any trolling behavior you have seen on social media, we want to make a few things clear
-Paul Fraiser, The DA of Coo's County who put out his "official statement" last year of Saraya's case had nothing to do with Saraya's case whatsoever. He was never involved in her sentencing and is only the boss of the Assistant District Attorney, who was advocating as recently as WEDNESDAY TO KEEP SARAYA IN PRISON. She even reminded the court that Saraya was placed in Oak Creek because of her risk of being a "danger to the public". Anyone referencing the DA's statement has VERY limited information based on a biased police report and interview.
-PLEASE DO NOT PERSONALLY CONTACT JUDGE MEGAN JACUOT. She is actively working to help get Saraya out with her new imposed timeline.
-It is up to Saraya's OYA PO officer and her Supervisor to find Saraya a way into residential treatment. Saraya has expressed her remorse and finished her program requirements in order to leave.
⚠️⚠️ MAJOR UPDATE⚠️⚠️ October 17th, 2021
Saraya is now at an inpatient facility, and may be home by next year! However these facilities are notoriously expensive (we're talking 50k a month, so PLEASE DONATE to the GoFundMe! Any amount helps the family.
Also please send letters to their PO BOX now!
PO BOX 2642
Albany, OR 97321
Thank you all so much for calling and signing the petition! Let's make sure the family has enough money to keep her at the mental health facility!!!
So I’ve been playing a lot of skyrim lately, because it’s video game comfort food, and I decided it was time for my Redguard Dovahkiin to settle down. (Actually I specifically just wanted to be able to adopt some of the random orphans you meet because I felt guilty about them, but you need to be married before you can do that so that there’s someone at home to take care of the kids while you’re off galivanting).
So I travelled around a bit, chatting up likely looking npcs until I found one I both liked and didn’t feel guilty about marrying (I feel bad if I marry one of the warrior adventurer types, making them be a stay at home mum) and settled on an obnoxiously cheerful argonian called Shavee because her life was frankly shit, and I thought she’d probably be good with kids.
So off I go to Riften to the Temple of Mara to arrange the wedding. I book it in for the next day, realise I didn’t bring anything nice to wear, and spend the night before the wedding robbing every house in the city in the search for something to wear. Eventually decide everyone in Riften has terrible fashion sense and break down everything I stole into raw materials and use them to craft myself an outfit and some jewellery that i’m pretty happy with. I even carefully pick out my fanciest looking sword to wear.
(don’t know why I bothered, frankly, shavee turned up wearing a shirt covered in suspicious stains and weilding a pickaxe, it’s like she doesn’t even care about this marriage)
(also for comedy purposes, bear in mind I play with survival mods that mean my character needs to eat and sleep to live, and I literally spent the entire ingame night on this and forgot to eat and drink anything either and then just downed four bowls of wolf stew right before entering the temple so I didn’t starve during the ceremony. also I discovered during the wedding that I am dying of rockjoint, which I contracted from sleeping in a pile of hay on the floor of a skeever infested cave, so even being six foot tall and jacked can’t make up for the fact that I am exhausted, running a fever, and probably covered in wolf which I spilled because my joints are slowly atrophying, and even the fanciest clothes in the world aren’t going to cover that up)
so I enter the temple, and my finance is there, and Lydia my housecarl, and some random NPCs the game thinks are my friends because I did fetch quests for them
One of the random NPCs is Lisbet. Atfter I did her fetch quest, I then did another quest in which I discovered Lisbet is secretly a cannibal and part of a demonic cult that worships the daedric prince of decay by kidnapping priests, sacrificing them, and then eating their corpses. Raw. I think the raw meat is the sticking point for me here honestly.
I ultimately decided not to sacrifice the random priest to a daedric prince in exchange for one magic ring and all the raw human I could eat, because frankly, that doesn’t sound like much of a deal to me. I was expecting there to be some kind of dialogue choice where I could nope out at the last minute, but it turns out there isn’t one, so after they drugged the priest and tied him to the altar, I just got out my sword and started swinging.
I killed most of the cult (including the town butcher, because I had brought meat from him before and was extremely pissed off that he might have been secretly feeding me humans) but a couple of them got away, which I figured was fine because they weren’t trying to kill me.
Except it turns out, if any of them escape, then every time you see them in the future there’s a random chance that they’ll fly into a violent rage and try and murder you.
Lisbet is at my wedding. Lisbet decides that clearly me marrying this random argonian woman with two lines of dialogue is the happiest day of my life, and she cannot allow me that happiness, when I’ve taken so much from her.
So she tries to kill me. Only she can’t, because I’m stuck in a pre-rendered wedding animation, and also she’s sitting next to Lydia, my faithful retainer and owner of a really big axe.
It also turns out that Lisbet is essential, meaning she can be knocked unconcious but not actually killed because she’s needed for some quest or other. And the minute she wakes up from unconciousness, she tries to kill me again, so Lydia knocks her unconcious again, and I’m stuck, I can’t move, because I’m supposed to be in the wedding animation.
Except Shavee has, not unreasonably, see all this and decided that she doesn’t like me enough to risk getting murdered, and has done a runner, leaving me at the altar, but more importantly, leaving me trapped in a broken pre-rendered animation, so all I can do is stand there at the altar, staring at the space where my fiance was supposed to be, listening to the sounds of Lydia trying and failing to beat a cannibal to death behind me.
Okay, I think, clearly this wedding isn’t going to happen, I’m going to go for the registry office option and complete the wedding using the dev commands. I do this. The priest gives me a wedding ring, and I can finally move again. I chase after Shavee, who has an impressive turn of speed on her, and eventually catch up right by the city gates. I try to talk to her.
Apparently using the console has completed the wedding for me, but not for her, because she still only has the same 2 lines of dialogue she usually has.
Clearly this is working, I can’t leave my kids with someone who can only say 2 things and doesn’t even know she’s their mum, that’s irresponsible.
I try loading from inside the temple. I get the same problem.
Eventually I figure out that I need to use the dev controls to disable Lisbet’s entire existence in the universe.
Shavee and me get married. As the priest reads the vows, I stare at Shavee and wonder why she couldn’t even be bothered to put on a clean shirt. I wonder what kind of mother she’ll be.
Once the ceremony is over, and I’m happily married to the dirty green lizard of my dreams, and we’ve agreed that until I can make her recognise my extremely nice modded house exists I will share her single bed in the unheated flophouse in Windhelm she calls home, I re-enable Lisbet, because I’m worried I’ll forget if I leave it too long.
Fun fact about skyrim, it loads in quite a lot of npcs and objects by dropping them from the sky. I have no idea why this is the case, but it’s objectively the funniest way to load in objects.
I re-enable Lisbet. She falls from the sky, clips through the roof of the temple, and lands in the pew beside Lydia, stands up, draws a knife, and is immedately beaten unconcious.
I no longer care, because Shavee now has all the exciting new spouse-only romantic dialogue options like “Could you cook something for me” and “have you made any money lately”, and I know she’ll be a great mother.
I limp to the door of the temple, while around me the guests not involved in the Lydia-Lisbet murder cycle scream and duck for cover.
I open the door to the temple, immediately collapse and ragdoll down the steps, which is how I discover I am dying of rockjoint.
I limp to the orphanage down the street, adopt two kids, and then finally remember that I’m carrying garlic bread, which as we all know, cures all known illnesses.
When I emerge back into the street, full of the joys of motherhood and garlic bread, I find the town in disaray. Lydia is chasing Lisbet through the streets with an axe and a dragon is circling overhead, burning npcs to death. People are running for shelter, screaming, while the guards try to take down an entire dragon using only the worst bows and arrows in the game.
I decide that as a parent, I have to think of my own safety first and leave them to it.
I head out of the city, intent on returning home and figuring out why Shavee refuses to move in with me. A man hanging around the stables challenges me to a boxing match. For want of anything better to do, I agree.
Halfway through the fight he dodges at the wrong moment and I punch one of his horses in the head.
Two guards attack me while I desperately try to surrender. My kids will miss me, but I’m prepared to go to jail for my horse crimes, I’m an honest citizen. Also my horse crimes seem somewhat less important than the dragon.
The guards refuse to accept my surrender. I am stabbed to death. As I collapse in front of the indifferent horse, Lisbet exits the city, followed by Lydia. The last thing I see before I die is Lydia swinging her axe at Lisbet’s face.
some flirty memes
“ like my shirt? it’s made with boyfriend/girlfriend material. ”
“ do you like raisins? how would you feel about a date? ”
“ if i could rearrange the alphabet i’d put ‘u’ and ‘i’ together. ”
“ are you a parking ticket? ‘cause you’ve got fine written all over you. ”
“ tell me, do you believe in love at first sight? or should i walk by you again? ”
“ it’s a good thing i have my library card ‘cause i’m checkin’ you out. ”
“ i was feeling a little off today but you’ve turned me on again. ”
“ any chance you have an extra heart? mine’s been stolen. ”
“ they say nothing lasts forever so— wanna be my nothing? ”
“ could you help me? i think there’s something wrong with my phone. see, it doesn’t have your number in it. ”
“ someone better call god. looks like he’s missing his prettiest angel. ”
“ you must be so exhausted from running through my mind all night. ”
“ did the sun just come out? oh no, that’s just your smile. ”
“ if you were a vegetable you’d be a cute-cumber. ”
“ i was wondering if you’re an artist because you’re definitely drawing me in. ”
“ would you help me hold this it’s really heavy— ” *offers out hand*
“ you know. that does look good on you. but i think it’d look better on my floor. ”
“ you’re the most captivating person i’ve ever met. ”
“ i dunno what it is about you...you just. you’re like a sun. you make everything so warm and bright. ”
“ i swear you have the most beautiful smile i’ve ever seen. ”
“ i swear you have the most handsome smile i’ve ever seen. ”
“ you’ve never looked more ravishing. ”
“ is that a new dress? i like it. looks wonderful on you. ”
“ is that a new suit? i like it. looks wonderful on you. ”
“ i like it when you wear that. ”
“ here, i got you some flowers. your favorites. ”
“ wow— that is definitely your color. ”
“ are you sure you’re not hiding wings and a halo around here somewhere? ”
“ i don’t think there’s a person in the world who compares to you. ”
“ you have my full attention. you always do. ”
“ don’t you know? i’ll always come when you call. ”
“ i’ll be waiting. when you’re ready to admit you want me. ”
“ sorry— i don’t mean to stare. you just look...radiant. ”
“ come on, just one drink? ”
“ tell me, your perfect date. anything you’d like. nothing out of the question. i’ll do it. i’ll make it a night you never forget. ”
“ if you give me a chance, i’ll treat you the way you’ve always deserved. ”
“ if you let me hold your heart i promise to be gentle with it. ”
“ see that’s the problem, you’ve already got my heart. i just hope i get to have yours too. ”
“ oh, i’ll always be waiting for you. ”
“ i just feel drawn to you. can’t really explain it. ”
“ why do you keep looking at me like that? ”
“ i just like watching you. ”
“ you get this little dimple when you smile. sometimes i just want to kiss it. ”
“ stop being so cute it’s fucking distracting. ”
“ surely you must know what you do to me. ”
“ if you don’t quit looking at me like that i’m not gonna be able to keep my hands to myself. or my lips for that matter. ”
“ i’m not gonna sit here and play games to figure out what you desire. tell me everything you wish the people who lost you had noticed. then give me a chance to be the one who remembers it all. ”
“ you’re just too adorable i can’t stand it. ”
“ oh, the things i’d do with you... ”
“ well, are you gonna make the first move or shall i? ”
“ i like beautiful things. maybe that’s why i like you so much. ”
“ careful, you keep this up i might just fall in love with you. ”
“ i’ll never get tired of seeing that smile. ”
“ i’d do anything just to make you laugh like that again. ”
“ trust me. the way i feel about you is like nothing i’ve ever felt before. ”
“ i don’t want to make you mine. i want to be yours. i already am. just a matter of whether or not you’ll keep me. ”
“ no— don’t look at me like that. you know i can’t resist it. ”
“ did you wear that just for me? ”
“ i wore it just for you! ”
“ you’re everything i’ve ever wanted. and so much more. ”
more random dialogue prompts ,
“why do you have that look on your face?”
“finish what you’re doing, we have to talk.”
“what have you done to yourself?”
“did you do something different with your hair?”
“it doesn’t do any good to get worked up.”
“when was the last time we had a real conversation.”
“are you in the witness protection program, or what?”
“there’s something wrong with me.”
“no, i don’t hate you.”
“we’re aren’t them.”
“looks like i’ll live long enough to make you pay.”
“you know you’re wrong.”
"i don’t understand, why are you doing this?”
“now, before i say anything, promise me you’ll stay calm.”
“what makes me so special?”
“you have no idea what i’ve been through.”
“you really don’t have to do that, not for me.”
“did you really think you’d get a second chance?”
"how about we don’t do that.”
“i have a lot going for me, but humility is not one of them.”
“you’re the worst.”
“i don’t need you right now.”
“don’t just stand there, looking at me.”
“i thought you were supposed to call me.”
“take my hand.”
“i need you.”
“you’re allowed to need help sometimes.”
“for someone who doesn’t like to feel things, you sure feel a lot of it out loud.”
“when this is all over, i want it to be you and me.”
“why won’t you tell me what happened?”
“you don’t know what this means to me.
“i know it doesn’t make sense.”
“i’m trying really hard to keep it together.”
“i know you’re new, but we do things a little differently here.”
“your voice is putting me to sleep.”
“did you find what you were looking for?”
"you knew and you didn’t even warn me?”
“well, i guess that’s broken.”
“i thought it was part of the act.”
“you think u don’t know you’re only here because they sent you?”
“you promised to call me if you didn’t know what to wear.”
“you can keep a secret, can’t you?”
“how could you do this to me?”
“put the gun down, dearest. i have news!”
“i know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but you need to know something.”
“if you’re here to tell me what happened last night, someone beat you to it.”
“people think i’m weird.”
“i think i’m losing myself again.”
“you can’t be here.”
“i wish you’d come to the funeral.”
“do you know what today is?”
“so, you broke my favourite mug… and you’re breaking up with me?”
“i need to get out.”
“it’s like i’m cursed or something.”
“you are remarkably well-behaved tonight, what have you been up to?”
“you gonna eat that?”
“sir, the pony rides are for children only.”
“i don’t want you to worry about that anymore.”
“we’ll never make it in time.”
“you’d be late for your own funeral.”
“you should have seen it coming.”
“oh, good, you’re here! hold this.”
“why can’t you just be happy for me?”
“on a scale of one to ten, how do you feel about nachos right now?”
“is this how you flirt with everyone?”
“how much longer till we’re there?”
“what have you done?”
“it’s time for you to repay that debt you owe me.”
“where did you get that? who gave it to you?”
“what kind of mother has thoughts like that?”
“i know I haven’t been what you needed, but i’m here, and i wanna help.”
“i never want to hear you say that again.”
“you’re all i have.”
“i know it’s not perfect, but i did follow the recipe this time.”
“i was doing so well until you showed up.”
“don’t eat that! i made it ‘specially for our guest.”
“it’s not that i don’t like my life, it’s that i don’t have the energy to enjoy it.”
“how can you stand this place?”
“don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t exactly blend in.”
“you need to stop.”
“i don’t like that look, what happened?”
“is that seriously your password?”
“what’s your problem?”
“you had no right to use it without asking.”
“oh, wow, you weren’t kidding.”
“i couldn’t trust my own parents to protect me.”
“i’m surprised you haven’t been arrested yet. wait, no, i’m not.”
“why do you want to help me?”
“ten bucks for that piece of crap?”
“we have to hurry, they’re coming!”
“hey, look what came in the mail!”
“do you want to get a drink or something?”
“please tell me you didn’t eat that.”
“the worst part is you didn’t even notice.”
“if i wanted help, i would have asked.”
“wanna tell me what’s going on with your grades?”
“you need to leave.”
“talk to me, okay? i need to know what’s going on.”
“i do blame you.”
“sometimes life deals you a bad hand, but you can still play your cards right and win.”
“you're no longer useful to me.”
“i’m not good with sarcasm: if you don’t like me, just say it.”
don’t hold back
college!peter parker x reader
summary: two hormonal students wander into a room during a frat party, what could possibly happen? maybe you discover that under his heart made of pure gold lurks a hidden powerful, dominant side.
word count: 4,685
warnings: alcohol mention, drug mention, but pure pwp smut minors dni (18+) extended warnings below bc i am not trying ruin the innocent :)
a/n: i would like to state that this is much longer than i anticipated.. but anyways, i am just gonna be honest, i have a major size/power kink. so this fic is my ~fucked~ up mind laying it all out for my fellow lil nasties ;) fair warning, this is pure filth. sorry for any mistakes and bad writing. but i hope you enjoy it x and let me know what you think ?!!
taglist || masterlist
extended warnings: thigh riding, body worship, oral (f.rec), dry humping, marking, peter being a boob guy, lil hints of soft!peter, unprotected sex, dirty talk, overstimulation, major power kink, manhandling, size kink, pain kink, praise kink, dom!peter, sadist!peter, squirting, cum play, handjob, body painting/facial, cum eating. think that is it? idk sorry !!
College was scary for the majority of people. New social circles, new surroundings. It took time for people to adjust. But Peter Parker wasn’t the majority.
The newfound freedom appealed to him. He was used to be a quote on quote loner, a nerd. It was never a desire of his to have big groups of friends or to be popular. He simply liked being by himself. It was fewer people in his life he had to lie to.
In college, people don’t care. They are too busy trying to find their own place in the world. Find their footing on the new terrain. So, they didn’t look twice at the boy who looked way too young to be attending classes. They didn’t care if he dressed in a flannel and sweater. Or if he washed up some morning with an unexplained bruise.
Peter loved that. He could do what he wanted with no one breathing down his back as if he was an adolescent child. No babysitter, just him. And he was happy with just that.
Peter made a few friends in his engineering classes. But their conversations only ever included the advancement or emergence of new technology. He could finally be that independent man he always claimed he was.
It was unusual for him to attend a party, but after the robotics club won their state final, he was persuaded to join the rest in a night of drunkenness. Peter quickly found out his ability to withstand the effects of alcohol was quite the phenomenon. People passing more and more drinks his way, hoping the next would knock him out cold. His superhuman ways always winning the battle.
The boys had ended up in a frat house, partying with people, who on a regular day, would never give them a second glance. Yet tonight, they were the centerpiece. I mean, whatever excuse a frat house can get to host a party, they would take it.
Peter was standing idle in the corner of the living room, fascinated by the people who were rolling blunts shamelessly on the coffee table. His hand was clutched around a red solo cup, the remains of his eighth drink begging to be chugged.
“Hey, you are Parker? Peter Parker?” The call of his sudden name caused him to perk up, wondering who said it.
Your soft eyes met his. A grin plastered across your face as you stalked closer to him. “Sorry, you are in my chemistry class. You taking it as an elective?”
Peter’s body stiffened, not use to female attention, unless they were asking for help with homework. He cleared his throat, swirling the plastic cup in his shaky hands. “Uh, yeah. I like chemistry.” He mentally wanted to punch himself for how nerdy he must’ve sounded.
His uneasiness was settled when he heard you giggle, the sound causing him to blush. “I like you Peter Parker.”
It was a blunt statement, but you were in no mood for beating around the bush. A light buzz gave you all the confidence you needed. His cheeks were now bright red, face burning up. The room closing in on him, becoming claustrophobic. He was becoming more aware, his senses were overstimulated in the current situation. Every noise, every breath, every movement, he felt it.
You could see him becoming uncomfortable, his jaw clenched, eyes squinted. You barely knew that man, but you wanted to help. “Hey, hey.” You whispered, placing a gentle hand on his forearm. “Wanna go somewhere quieter?”
He nodded immediately, begging to be removed from the troubling environment. Clasping your hands together, you guided out of the crowded room. Some people noticed, wolf whistling and cheering you on as you tried to seek refuge.
As you didn’t live here, you had no clue where you were going. Logically, the only thing that came to your mind was a bedroom. Finding the stairs, you dragged him up them. Luckily the first door you opened was unoccupied. Pulling him inside, you locked it to prevent any unwanted company.
The room was small, but it seemed empty. Only a mattress on the floor with a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered in the corners. Awkwardly, you both stood still at the door, unsure what your next move should be. “Uh, so you get anxious often?”
Peter shook his head, scanning the room trying to distract himself from the tension he was feeling. “No. No. It’s not like an anxiety thing.”
As he didn’t elaborate, you caught onto the message he was silently sending. He wasn’t interested in getting personal. And if you were brutally honest, you weren’t either. Other intentions were invading your mind. Sinful intentions.
Peter had first caught your eye the moment he was late to class one morning. His hair was a mess, scruffy like he just woke up. A cut was sliced into his cheek, but it seemed to be near the end of healing. Clothes were ruffled, pockets hung out of his khakis and shirt poked out from the bottom of his sky blue jumper. He sat a few rows away from you. It was safe to say you couldn’t focus in class that day, or any other day for a matter of fact.
He was mysterious, maybe that’s what attracted you. On the outside, he had that soft, nerdy appearance. For some reason, you believed under that thick skin was a more complex human. One that possessed many deep, dark secrets. You could see it in his hollow eyes; they seemed empty sometimes.
“What are you doing at a party anyways? I have never seen you attend any before. What you celebrating?” You hoped the line of questioning would cool the thick, humid air.
“Robotic club won state.” He mumbled, slightly ashamed and afraid that the hot girl in front of him would think he was pathetic.
“That’s so cool. You can build robots? That’s really cool.”
He sent you a confused look, shocked that robots and cool came out of your mouth without hesitation. “You think robots are cool? Are you secretly a nerd or something?” He huffed, not believing a word you said.
Rolling your eyes, you folded your arms. “Nothing wrong with appreciating talent. Plus, I am a STEM major myself. Nobody ever tell you don’t judge a book by it’s cover?”
His face became flushed, lips parted ready to apologise for offending you. “Don’t worry Parker. You aren’t the first to undermine me.” You smirked up at him.
Only a short distance separated your hormonal, raging bodies. It wasn’t unusual for two good looking people to want to tear off each other’s clothes. Even if it was just for a night. The college years were the time for experience. For exploration.
Peter inhaled sharply, trying to keep his emotions at bay. Your eyes were like poison, killing him slowly as they stared deeply into his soul through dark, bloomed orbs. Silently begging him to make a move.
His hand rested on your hip, the other slowly lifted to your cheek, cupping your face. Leaning forward his lips lingered over yours, hot breath mixing adding to the thick air that surrounded you. “I never got your name.” He whispered in a low, soft voice, not wanting to ruin the moment.
He took a second to process what was about to happen, what was about to ensue. Lips brushed over one another. A tingling feeling surged through your body, breath hitched, legs shaky. They finally touched, latching onto his thin, tender lips. The kiss was soft, gentle as they tried to find the perfect rhythm.
Your body melted, a warmth pulsing through your veins. Peter sensed your weakness, hand hooking around your lower back supporting your trembling frame. It wasn’t your first rodeo, but you were still nervous. He was very cute after all.
Getting over your nerves, your palms sunk into his chest, pushing him against the wall. He groaned, deepening the kiss. His tongue poked at your lips, pleading for entrance. Gladly, you parted your lips allowing him to slip past. Tongues clashed, messy and sloppy as urges began to grow. A fire in the pit of your stomach emerging.
Unable to suppress your desire, your hands wandered south, fisting his iconic sweater as you tried to remove it from his body. He obliged, lifting his arms up as the fabric slipped off his body. As soon as the first layer was gone, your fingers immediately began to unbutton his shirt. Your cold digits that grazed his skin caused him to shiver.
As you tried to finish the task, his hands slipped down to your ass, grabbing a handful. His hands were rough and greedy as they fed their needs. Humming against his lips, you’d lost patience, bursting a few buttons as you ripped his shirt. Peter smirked, as you broke away from his devouring lips. “Impatient?”
Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide the guilt you felt. You were never this eager. His bare chest caught your gaze. A mouth watering, unexpected view greeted you. You had assumed Peter was just a lanky, scrawny man; but you were very wrong. Your hands moved the sleeves down his arms as you scanned his torso.
A sculpture, carefully carved and defined. Every muscle was visible, and tempting. His skin dipped into every dent, the lighting of the room enhancing it. The shadow playing in his favour; like he needed it. As eyes ventured lower, his v-line was deep and sharp causing something to get caught in your throat. He could be a Calvin Klein model in his spare time for all you knew.
Once his arms were free, his lips crashed into yours again, gaining your attention. Hands flung to the sides of your face, holding it still as lips moved with voracious pace. Your fingers looped in around his belt, pulling your bodies close together so that a sliver of air couldn’t even pass through. Peter, craving you, used his power to change positions, slamming you against the wall.
His leg found comfort between your thighs, pressing against your clothed heat. Moving it with precision, he stimulated your clit. Body surrendering to his dominance. Small whimpers were muffled by his wet lips as they continued to feast on yours. His hands glided down your curves, memorising every dip they caressed, stopping at the bottom hem of your dress.
Your body arched off the wall, aiding him as he pulled the dress from your body. You stood beneath his broad figure bare, only underwear shading you. Heart pounded, his glare intense. His tongue darted out from his tight lips, licking them ready to indulge.
He made his first attack, lips attaching to the skin of your chest. Sucking and licking the exposed tops of your mounds as hands found their way back to your ass. His touch was hot, burning your skin. Your hands grasped at his dark hair, pulling at the roots as your fingers laced with the curly locks. His teeth reacted, scrapping your sensitive flesh. “Pete!”
Your voice was high pitched as you cried out his name, the attentive attention he gave your fragile body was overwhelming. He hummed as your voice rang pleasantly in his ears. His brain was in a haze, senses in overdrive. The touch, the sounds, the taste. He was desperate to feel you, all of you.
His hands slid to the back of your thighs, hooking around them as he swept you off the ground. You screamed out his name, shocked at how easily he did it. Like you were the weight of a feather. He laughed against your chest as he carried effortlessly to the bed, only to throw you onto it like a rag doll.
You barely had time to process the strength of the man before his lips returned to your body. Sucking deep marks into your skin, starting at your thighs before he began his ascent up to you. Lips marked your thighs, stomach, chest, and neck before linking with your swollen, abused lips. He used his legs to open yours, parting them allowing him access.
His hardened cock pressed into you as your hips rocked together. Grinding, both losing patience as the anticipation grew. When your legs wrapped around his body, he growled, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he pulled away. “Fuck, you sure this is okay?”
“Just fuck me.”
It was blunt, but you had no intention to sugarcoat the situation, you just wanted sex. No strings attached. Peter had no desire to get anything more from the night either. He was contempt with fulfilling his sinful want.
He quickly undid his belt, pulling his pants down. Your heat pulsated as his thick thighs came into view. Muscles carved like a Greek god. Your hips rutted against the air, needing fulfilment. “Shit are you like a bodybuilder or something?”
He chuckled before a sinister smirk emerged on his face, sending shivers down your spine; scared for what was in store. His hand rested on your lower stomach, thumb teasing your clit through your damp panties. He watched your body react, eyes droopy, lips parted and face contorted with pleasure. The sight caused his cock to throb and jump with excitement.
Tired of the foreplay, Peter lowered his face between your quaking thighs. Hot breath fanning over your pulsating core. The aroma tempted him to come undone, the sweetness seeping into his sense. Mouth was dry, dying for a taste from the source.
Not wasting another second, he moved the delicate fabric to the side, tongue diving in between your folds. Lapping and drinking up the arousal that dripped from your heat. Peter gladly explored every inch, switching between your clit and seeping hole, stretching you with the strong muscle. The angelic sounds that you created prompted him to hump the bed, granting himself some sort of relief.
Your hands were latched to his hair, grasping at his scalp trying to keep the last bit of sanity you had intact. “Pete. Please. I need you.”
His eyes flashed up to you. They were raw, piercing, a glint of anxiousness could be seen as he gave your bud one final harsh suck. His chin glistened causing you to blush. “You sure? I was gonna make you cum before we got to that part.” He shyly stated.
Hands clutched his chin, guiding him to your face, bringing him in for a messy, heated kiss. His broad stature shaded you from the dim light, overpowering, intimidating. Using a hand to plank his body, the other went to snap off your panties. You heard a rip causing you to gasp, but he shoved his tongue into your mouth, shutting you up.
He moved onto his own boxers, kicking them off his legs. Your thighs rested on his as he spread his legs, causing you to open up your silky folds to him. His cock prodding at the newly exposed skin. He used his hand to grab his length, pumping it a few times before positioning it at your entrance. “Just breath.” He mumbled, his angry tip penetrating your tight core.
His girth took you by surprise, stretching your walls. You hadn’t expected it, underestimating his size. Your hands clawed at his back as he slowly pushed in deeper. He continuously checked in with you, asking if you were okay, if you wanted to stop. But the pain was foreshadowed by the immense pleasure that vibrated through you.
Once he came to a hilt, his cock was balls deep. Tip grazing your cervix, signifying how deep he was. The way his cock was curved was designed for maximum pleasure. You never felt so full, fingernails sinking into his back leaving behind crescent marks as you tried to ground yourself back down to reality. “You are so big, fuck.” You praised, shoving your face into his neck.
His large biceps enclosed you, holding you tight as he shallowly moved his hips. “Yeah? You are so tight. Feel so good.” He panted, trying to tame his instincts.
“God, please just fuck me.”
Growling, he followed instruction, retracting his hips before snapping them forward in one harsh movement. Thighs quaked as his pelvic bone collided with your neglected clit. His moves were slow, calculated. Eyes shut tight, his senses overwhelming his body. You could see he was holding back.
Peter, since the bite, was always scared of what he was capable of. Sex being one of those things. He knew he was powerful, strong enough to stop a bus. He also had a heart of gold, never wanting to injure or hurt another person. Especially a woman he was intimate with.
“Pete, don’t hold back. Let go. I can take it. I want it.”
His eyes shot open, pupils dark and wide, swallowing the warm brown that surrounded them. His jaw clenched, unsure if he should do as told. Your hand cupped his cheek, assuring him. “Peter please. I like it rough.” You confessed, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
A primal grunt slipped from his gritted teeth, your innocent eyes driving him mad. Adjusting the position, he placed your calves on his shoulders, his cock slipping deeper into you. “Please, tell me if it’s too much.”
You nodded, inhaling sharply, mentally preparing yourself for the on slaughter that was about to ensue. His hands hooked around your thighs, fingers digging into the skin. Before you could even process the strength of his grip, his cock began to pound into you mercilessly.
His member relentlessly struck your g-spot, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Thankfully, the music was so loud it drowned out your pathetic, loud moans. He used his tight grip as leverage, pulling your body to meet his hard thrusts.
The sounds were sinister, skin on skin clapping, applauding him. Your wetness splattering, covering his cock, echoed through the room. Body on a high, you felt no shame for how you were reacting. Your hands flung to the pit of your stomach, clawing at your skin. “I can- feel how deep you are.”
He smirked at your statement, one hand shoving your hands away to replace them with his. Fingers pressed into your lower stomach, thumb focused on your clit, rubbing aggressive, precise circles around the swollen bud. “Fuck, I can feel how deep I am. Bet you’ve never felt so full before. Not gonna be able to walk after this.”
The thought of destroying your body only turned him on more. His hips moved at an animalistic pace, not humanly possible. His balls slapped your ass with every thrust, and the attention on your clit drove you to insanity. You became a babbling mess below him. Unintelligible words slipping from your lips as your brain clouded with lust.
“Fuck. Look like a beautiful mess. Does it feel good? Making you feel good? Cause, shit, you make me feel incredible.”
Head nodded vigorously, unable to speak only cry out in pleasure. Body began to convulse, the knot in your stomach ready to burst at any second. “Pete. Close.” You chanted, grasping his hands, grounding yourself.
“That’s it. You wanted to be a big girl. You said you could take it. So c’mon. Cum all over my cock. Wanna feel that pretty pussy clench around me.”
His words rang through your ears as you tipped over the edge. A wave consumed you, body shook as it welcomed the intense feeling. His hands grabbed your waist, holding you still, comforting you. “That’s it. Let go.” “Feel so good around my cock.” “So pretty when you cum. Could watch you all day.”
His thrust slowed, allowing you to come down from your high. Once your head started to clear, you could still feel his hard presence pulsate against your abused walls. Eyes bulged, shocked that he was lasting so long. “You good?” He queried, watching you struggle to keep your eyes open.
“Fuck yes. Amazing.”
He cleared his throat, in a bit of a predicament. Should he continue? Or should he just leave? Finish himself off in some random bathroom. However his question was answered. “Why’d you stop? Fuck, I want you to cum.”
He flipped you over so you were now straddling him. Whimpering, your palms slapped his hard, defined chest. “Pete, I am tired. Sorry.” Your hips movements weak against his, body still recovering from your orgasm.
“It’s okay. Don’t worry, I got you. May I?” He asked, positioning his feet flat on the bed, hands grasping your waist.
Confused by what he meant, you nodded, naively. He bit his lip, giving you sudden harsh thrust. You jolted upwards due to the mere force, but his hands brought you right back, forcing you to swallow his cock. You screeched as he stretched you, filled you.
He repeated that movement, continuously. Pumping his throbbing cock into your wetness. There was no escape from the pleasure, his hands in complete control of your body. His eyes locked in on your mounds, watching them bounce begging to be released from their restricting cups. “Take off your bra, wanna see your tits. Please.”
A guttural growl was ripped from his throat as you quickly removed the material from your body. The way they bounced and rippled with every thrust. He couldn’t help but bring a hand up, squeezing the plush flesh. “Fucking beautiful.” He muttered, thumb teasing the bud.
With the last bit of energy you possessed, you rocked your hips on his cock causing the curve to hit your sensitive spot hidden within your velvety walls. That was enough to send you to your second high without warning, falling off the edge with a scream of his name.
But that didn’t stop his merciless thrusts. Using your lifeless body as a toy to please his cock. You were getting wetter at the thought of just being used as a tight hole for him to fuck. It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it did. His dominance over you was scary.
Your throat was dry and raw, every sound that rippled from it tore apart the skin. Peter wouldn’t dream of silencing you, the song you sang was too beautiful. “Yeah keep screaming my name. Shit, I am so close.” He groaned, hips were violent, bruising the skin of your thighs and hips.
The pain succumbed to the pleasure, masking any future aches you would inevitably experience. Your body was limb, he was in complete control of your movements. Brain dead in your euphoric haze. You sputtered nonsense, eyes droopy as hands grabbed his shoulders preventing you from falling forward.
The sounds from the collision were pornographic, sinful. The arousal that poured out from your core making it easy for his cock to dive deeper with every stroke. He was so close, eyes flickering between your bouncing tits and the contact your bodies made, enjoying the way his length was creamed with your juices.
Your body burned, insides twisting and turning. A fire spread uncontrollably through your veins. It was something you never experienced. Being brutally used. Peter, was loving the feeling of dominance, controlling every movement. “Fuck, you love me using you don’t you?”
You parted your lips, but your brain was not functioning, only a hum escaping. “Got you dumb for my cock do I?” He chuckled, his thrusts never ending. “Love me using you for my own pleasure. Just, grabbing you, fucking you down onto my big cock.”
His cockiness and confidence resonated between your quaking thighs. Only adding the wetness that pooled between them. “Getting wetter from me just talking to you? Fuck, you are the best girl. Feel so good and tight. Gonna make me cum.”
Moaning, you practically begged him to cum in fear you may mentally leave this planet and never return. “But, you need to cum one more time for me. Be my good girl, my best girl, and take it.” His voice was stern, not in the mood for negotiations.
Following his demand, his thumb found your forgotten clit. A sequence of curses and screams poured out as your stomach tightened. A new sensation appeared, an unfamiliar one. The pressure that pent up was about to explode. “Pete, I- too much.”
“One more. Give it to me. Let it go. Cum.”
And with that, everything collapsed. Vision blurred and spotted with black dots as your juices gushed from your fragile body. His cock was pushed out from your heat due to the force. His fast reflexes reacted, grabbing his cock, using the tip to rub fast motions across your swollen clit. Your cum covered his lower stomach and length. He groaned at the sight, watching the juices squirt from your convulsing body.
He guided you through the intense orgasm, using his cock to slowly trace your drenched folds, his tight grip pumping his throbbing cock as he did. “Atta girl, I got you.” He assured, caresses your soaked thighs. “But shit, I am gonna come baby, so fucking hard. Can I cum on your tits, please.”
“Yes! Yes! Fuck Pete you can cum wherever you want.” You slurred, brain drunk from the overstimulation your body was experiencing. Three intense orgasms in less than twenty minutes, you would’ve been considered lucky to achieve one on a given night.
He smirked, proud of his work. Fucked out and messy. It turned him on so much. His balls tightened, begging to find release. Gently, he cradled your lower back, laying you down on your back so he could straddled your waist.
Through heavy eyes, you watched him jerk his cock through a tight grip. His member was wet, glistening, covered in a mixture of your cum and his own precum. Veins bulging through his thin skin. Tip, red and angry, pulsating vigorously. Weakly, you placed a hand on his thigh, raking it, while the other played with his sensitive slit. “Fuck. Gonna be so pretty covered in my cum.”
“Cum Pete. Please. I want it so bad.” You pleaded, sticking your tongue out, hoping some would land in your mouth.
The sight of you below him, begging to be degraded. It sent him to his climax. His cock shooting out thick ropes of white cum while chanting your name loudly, with no shame. You had to clench your thighs at the sounds he made. Some landed on your face, most painted your chest. You were amazed at his load, it seemed like it would never end. Your weak hand joined his, helping him milk out every last drop. The touch of your tender, soft hand wrapped around him made him rut his hips against it as he rode out the feeling of pure ecstasy.
As the tingles that surged through him finally simmered, he collapsed down beside you. Breath heavy, and sharp. His cock twitched against his thigh, his whole person overstimulated by his senses that were dialed to a hundred. The dim light suddenly becoming too bright from him. He winced, turning his head towards you, which he immediately regretted when he saw you running your fingers across your chest, gathered up his cum on your slim digits. You carried it up to your mouth, sucking them clean. His jaw dropped. And suddenly the blood rushed back down south.
You turned your head to face him, heat rising to your cheeks after realising you’d been caught. You were intrigued. Peter took the chance to take in your appearance. Your chin was wet with a mixture of your spit and his cum, eyes still blooming with lust, hair messy and knotted. He closed his eyes, trying to remove the picture from his head as it wasn’t helping his current situation. Hearing a giggle, forced him to look at you, confused at the sudden outburst.
Your eyes were peering down at his growing length causing a red crimson colour to creep across his cheeks. “I was going to ask you to get me a rag to clean up because I don’t think I can walk, but I don’t think there is a point. I can see you have other ideas.”
“Yoongi was a warrior in the Queen’s army, brave and loyal to his duties even if that meant protecting Her daughter, who can’t stand his presence in the slightest and who more often than not uses him as her way of taking out her anger. As one fateful night forces them to survive together, they soon need to learn how to live with each other.”
Pairing: Warrior!Yoongi x Princess!Reader
Genre: Fantasy, e2l!AU, Smut
Warnings: LOTS of plot & worldbuilding, violence & fighting, wounds, deep hatred in the beginning, she is mean in the beginning but character development happens dw, slurs, cuddling for warmth *wink wink*, loss of virginity, they are both virgins fyi, kissing, missionary in a cave, Yoongi likes kissing her boobies and neck, Yoongi’s hands, also blonde Daechwita!Yoongi because he deserves his own warning
a/n: I always start one of these stories, thinking that I can’t love it more than the other ones, and I always end up proving myself wrong. Writing this story gave me so much JOY omfg please I would literally give my life for warrior!Yoongi. Also I know, I know :( it is once again so freaking long, but please :( give it a chance, I promise you that you will get lots of plot and Yoongi for your patience :(
~ Go to Index ~
Yoongi heard the whispers and felt the eyes on him. They all knew where he was going and what was going to happen.
The princess had a fight with her husband.
The news spread like a wildfire this morning, reaching Yoongi by the evening. He had just returned from the Queen’s hunt when one of her servants told him to see her in her chambers immediately.
She was furious so they said before wishing him strength.
Yoongi felt nothing as he made his way to the princess’ chambers. He walked this walk a hundred times before. What was to come doesn’t faze him anymore. It was the whispers and stares, which never became easier to bear, no matter how often he climbed the stairs to her chambers.
Yoongi knocks twice. He doesn’t expect an answer and so he enters.
“You sent for me Your Highness”, he announces himself, falling to his knees in an instance. He places his sword before his knees, keeping his head lowered.
“Where were you?” she spits.
“I was out hunting with your mother.”
Yoongi stays quiet despite the ache on his cheek.
“You kept me waiting, how dare you?”
“Your Highness, the Queen, she needed my company.”
“Who do you think you are? How dare you talk back to me.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness.”
She grabs a bundle of his hair and tugs his head back.
Yoongi doesn’t react at the feeling. He tries not to look into her eyes, but fails. She looks furious tonight. The fight with her husband must have angered her deeply.
Yoongi doesn’t like her husband. Not only was he a simple fool, but he angered her on top of that. And when she was angry she sent for Yoongi to bear the punishments her husband should bear in his stead.
“Look at you, you’re so ugly”, she spits, twisting his hair, “do people tell you that? Do they tell you that you’re ugly?” she asks, running her finger down the scar on his face.
Yoongi closes his eyes, shuddering in disgust as her finger runs over his eyelid.
“Yes Your Highness, they do.”
“Good”, she places her hand all over his face and pushes his head back roughly, “and I hope they never stop.”
Yoongi never got the answers of why she was hurting him instead of her useless husband.
Some servants say it was because of the prince’s powerful mother and that the Queen therefore forbade her daughter to hurt her husband.
Others say it was because the husband was an emotional fool, who cries the moment the princess raises her voice at him and that the princess grew annoyed by the constant wailing.
Yoongi believes that it was simply because he was at the wrong place and the wrong time.
It was two winters ago when the princess married the prince of the Sand Queendom. She disliked him from the beginning for the way he looked and behaved. He angered her one night and in a fit of rage she struck him. Yoongi made the mistake of helping him to his feet again and it was Yoongi, who received the next strike. Ever since that day she always calls for Yoongi when her husband angered her and he has to bear the kind of punishment a husband should take by himself.
“You know, I told him to stay home and yet he still wandered the mountains with his friends”, she spits as she connects her hand with his face, “why is he always defying me?”
“I don’t –“
“Shut up, I’m not talking to you!”
Yoongi closes his mouth and accepts the next slap.
“He cried again today, he is such a pathetic man. Why did mother choose such a terrible husband for me?”
Yoongi allows her to shake his head roughly.
“Stop looking like that. Why are you so ugly?”
“Please forgive me, Your Highness. I’m tired.”
“Fuck”, she grasps his cheeks tightly, “you’re even uglier when you’re tired.”
She leans down and smells him.
“Disgusting, you stink.”
“Forgive me, I was on horseback the entire day.”
She pushes him, making him fall on his elbows.
“Leave, your scent insults me, it’s no fun tonight.”
“Yes Your Highness, please forgive me”, Yoongi says, grabbing his sword to leave her room on his knees.
The Queen was on a hunt again. Yoongi rides beside her, scouting the area for dangers. The princess joined their hunting group today. She left her husband at home, but took her horrible friends with her. They were giggling the entire time. Yoongi felt his head ache at the sound of it.
“I heard that some of Morrok’s people were sighted in the north forests three moons ago”, the Queen tells Yoongi.
“Yes my Queen, my people took care of them”, Yoongi answers her.
“I never doubted that Sire, but it makes me wonder what they were doing so far up north.”
“Perhaps they were on their way further north, I heard of a man creating an army of men, who share his mindset. They call themselves the Ravens.”
“Yes, I heard that as well. It seems that these days more and more men become victims of madmen.”
“Yes my Queen, so it seems”, Yoongi agrees.
“Mother!” the princess rides up to her mother’s side, “mother we are bored, when can we kill something?”
“Patience and if you keep chattering like that you won’t catch anything today.”
“But mother, Luthia saw a deer back there. Please allow us to check it out.”
“Very well, but take Yoongi with you.”
The princess looks at him and scrunches her nose up in disgust. Yoongi feels the same. He doesn’t want to spend time with the princess.
“Do I really have to?”
“Yes ___ you do.”
She clicks her tongue, “fine. Come Yoongi.”
“Yes, Your Highness”, Yoongi obeys and turns his horse.
The princess gallops off afterwards.
“Sire”, the Queen stops him.
“Yes my Queen?”
“Please keep her out of trouble.”
“Yes my Queen, I will”, he promises before galloping down the forest path.
He catches up with the princess and her friends soon enough. They were giggling again, but that stopped when they noticed Yoongi’s presence. He can feel every single one of their deathly glares on his face as he rides to the front to join the princess’ side.
“___ what is that fool doing here?” Luthia asks, eyeing Yoongi with disgust.
“My mother insists I take him”, you answer her and roll your eyes, “she still doesn’t believe that I can fend for myself.”
It makes Yoongi scoff quietly, just quietly enough that you wouldn’t hear it.
“And she has to send him out of all your warriors?”
You look at Yoongi by your side, studying his face. He is frowning, scouting the area as he was told to do.
“I’m not happy about it either, but let’s pretend that he isn’t here. Tell us Luthia where did you see the deer?”
“I watched it run down this path.”
“That leads to the ruins of Bruinnen”, Yoongi murmurs.
“So? Do you want to tell us something?” Luthia spits.
“There are spirits in those lands, angry spirits.”
Luthia laughs and soon the rest of her friends, including you laugh as well.
“Those are legends, you simple fool, there are no spirits in the world”, Luthia says, riding up to Yoongi just to slap the back of his head.
Yoongi reacts, turning his head to glare at her.
“People disappear in those lands and you want to enter them like a reckless child?” he spits.
“Now I understand your anger with him ___ he is way too noisy.”
Yoongi scoffs, turning to you.
“Your Highness believe me, you don’t want to enter the spirits’ lands.”
You laugh, “keep your mouth shut Yoongi. We are going.”
Yoongi twists the reins in anger. The princess is such a reckless child, one day she will get herself killed and maybe, just maybe, he will watch it happen.
The path is welcoming for now. High trees with barks of silver and red crowns of leaves. The sunlight enters the forest through little holes in the canopy, painting the paths and the surrounding scrubs ruby. The air smells fresh as well, warming your limbs.
“Tell me ___ isn’t he the fool, who helped your husband after you disciplined him?” another friend of the princess asks.
“Yes he is. He is the fool who thought it was his right to step in between”, you answer her with distaste.
The friend studies Yoongi’s face.
“He is just as ugly as you told me. Hey ugly”, she stubs his arm with the dull end of her arrow, “where did you get that scar from?”
Yoongi stays silent. In moments like these he wishes that he could live a different life. He enjoys being the Queen’s warrior as she was a kind woman, but truly when he has to be alone with the princess and her horrible friends he wishes that he could live a different life.
“He probably got it from helping another woman’s husband”, Luthia jokes, making them cackle.
“Or maybe he got it from fighting spirits”, the friend jokes.
Laughter bounces off the high trees, taunting Yoongi.
“No, but please be honest where did you get it from, ugly?” Luthia asks.
He knows that she doesn’t want to hear the truth. She wasn’t interested in him, she just wanted to poke fun at him.
“I can’t remember”, Yoongi murmurs.
“Ha! He says he can’t remember. Did you hear that? He probably hit himself with his own sword.”
Their laughter rings in his ears and forces a shaky exhale over his lips. He truly wishes to live a different life in such moments.
The laughter stops.
“Look Luthia the deer”, you exclaim, pointing at the poor animal in the far distance.
“This is mine”, Luthia whispers and draws her bow.
She hits the deer on its shoulder, making it run away.
“Stay! You are not allowed to run away from me!” Luthia screams, kicking her horse roughly and galloping off.
“Luthia! Slow down!”
You turn to Yoongi.
“Go after her and protect her.”
“Yes, Your Highness”, Yoongi obeys as always, galloping down the forest path.
He meets the horrible woman at the end of the path.
Yoongi shivers, slowing down his horse. They have reached the border to the spirits’ lands. The once ivory path is corrupted by the black soil creeping out of the dark forest. The air was tense and the light sparse. The smell of death lingered on every inch of ground and the once proud trees were wilted and black, sparse of leaves and life.
Yoongi reaches the horrible girl. She looks at him and his fingers around the handle of his sword.
“What’s that? The forest looks so ugly here” she asks him in disgust.
“The border to the spirits’ land”, Yoongi answers her.
She looks at him.
“I didn’t ask for jokes right now, crip”, she spits.
Yoongi lowers his eyes in anger.
“I don’t make jokes, girl. Now let’s turn around and join the others.”
“No. The deer ran inside, I want my arrow back.”
“The arrow is gone, let’s leave.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
“I don’t work for you”, Yoongi growls and turns his horse, “let’s leave.”
He can watch the princess and the rest of her horrible friends ride down the windy path and he is in no mood to fight for five more people if the spirits decide to show themselves.
“I am still higher in rank than you. Now you will show me some respect.”
Yoongi felt the cold blade of her arrow’s head rest itself on his shoulder. He clenches his jaw. The princess watched it happening, telling her horse to go faster in reaction.
“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out under his breath.
“Luthia, why are you holding an arrow against my warrior’s neck?”
“My arrow is inside this forest and this fool refuses to help me.”
Yoongi knows that she was lying, but doesn’t say anything. His chest fills with anger when the princess’ cold eyes land on his face.
“You are going to do as you are told and retreat Luthia’s arrow.”
“She can go herself, I’m not risking my life for an arrow.”
Shocked gasps cut through the air. The princess lowers her eyes in anger. Yoongi can watch how she raises her riding crop, closing his eyes in anticipation. The hit is harder than he had initially thought it would be, leaving a dark red imprint on his cheek.
“This was a warning, if you disobey me again I will strike you with my sword.”
Yoongi clenches his jaw, staying on his horse.
“Go!” she yells at him, raising her riding crop a second time.
Yoongi catches it, almost breaking it between his fingers as anger makes his grasp iron.
He pushes it away, jumping off his horse afterwards.
“There we go, ugly”, Luthia spits.
Yoongi takes two steps and then he falters, staring into the darkness of the spirits’ lands. He knows the legends. Knows the stories of people losing their minds in those woods. Knows the stories of people getting lost on the windy paths. Knows the stories of the people dying in those forests, damned to a fate of being forgotten. Yoongi doesn’t frighten easily, but at this moment he is so scared that he can feel his knees begin to shake.
“Go on you’ve come so far already”, the princess encourages him with a dark smirk.
Then a sharp pain in his shoulder. One of her friends poked him with the tip of her sword.
“Don’t make us wait.”
He sends her a deathly glare over his shoulder, draws his sword and sets foot into the forest. His foot had to simply touch the soil and he felt his bones fill with iciness. The air made it hard to breathe and even his heart seemed to struggle with pumping his blood through his veins.
The laughter of the horrible girls rings in his ear like distorted whispers of death.
Yoongi tightens the grip around his sword, having to swallow deeply to get air into his lungs again.
“I-if there a-are spirits w-with me, k-kill the g-girls in m-my stead”, he stutters, “they would deserve it”, he adds under his breath.
“Hey ugly! Found it?”
“Or are you busy fighting spirits?”
Laughter, shrill and loud. The magic in those forests corrupts it.
Sweat, he could feel it run down his forehead. Air. If his lungs don’t work soon he will faint.
Laughter. Laughter. Laughter.
“Ugly where are you?”
“Don’t run away!”
Air. Air. Air.
“Fuck”, Yoongi stops, seeking support against one of the trees.
It burns. His hand burns.
He pulls back quickly, staring at the black goo on his fingers. It was smoking.
“What is that?” he exclaims, wiping it off quickly “get off of me.”
He raises his fingers, they are shaking uncontrollably. Blisters. They weren’t here before. The tree burned him.
Air. Air. Air.
Yoongi grunts, blinking quickly. His vision is blurry. Where is the path? Where is he?
Intruder. We have an intruder.
Whispers, hundreds of them.
Intruder. Who’s that? Intruder. Death to him. Death. Death. Death.
Hands, black fog, they are closing around his limbs and neck. They fight him, trying to drag him to his knees.
"Stay away", he chokes out, cutting through the air around himself.
He fights! He fights back! Death to him! Death to every human!
“Ah!” Yoongi yells.
An arrow had hit the tree right beside his head.
The princess has her bow raised, wearing an amused smirk.
“Look you made the little cub frighten”, Luthia squeals and giggles.
Yoongi looks at the arrow. White body, red feathers. It is one of the princess’ arrows.
“Come back Yoongi and don’t forget to take my arrow with you!” she calls out and cackles.
Yoongi feels his blood boil. He rips the arrow out of the tree and runs back to the others.
Come back! Don’t run! No! No! No! Death to all humans!
The fog follows him.
Laughter. They are still laughing at him despite the danger.
Don’t run little tiger! Don’t run!
One more step. Yoongi jumps, feet landing on the ivory path. His knees give up on him in an instance, his body sinks in on itself.
“Stand up ugly.”
Yoongi feels the icy gust of wind on his skin. Whispers are in the air. The horses become restless. The laughter finally dies down.
“What was that?” Luthia asks, drawing her sword, “hey ugly what did you do?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer her for catching his breath is all he can think of. His lungs burn as if the fogs had poisoned them. Oh he is so scared that tears have formed in his eyes. He can’t cry, not right now, not in front of them. He can’t cry.
“Yoongi! Stand up you useless man!” the princess spits.
Yoongi lifts his head.
“We want to leave, it is so icy here.”
He grunts. His sword comes in handy for he couldn’t possibly stand up without its help.
“Give me my arrow.”
Yoongi lifts it to the princess' fingers. His hands are shaking, aching from the burns on his palms.
“Ew what is that black goo? No, throw it away. I don’t want it anymore.”
Anger fills his stomach. Yoongi breaks the arrow and throws it on the ground. She scoffs and laughs.
“Now get on your horse or we’ll just leave you here.”
They ride back to the Queen, laughing about how they scared Yoongi and how amusing he looked when he startled. Truly in such moments Yoongi wishes to live a different life.
The bells were ringing. Yoongi never heard those bells before. He was not supposed to hear them. Nobody was. They were supposed to stay silent until time had taken everyone and nature reclaimed the castle.
And yet they did, shaking the entire castle awake.
“Breach! We have been breached!”
Yoongi is on his feet in an instance, grasping his sword and running out of his bedroom. He had no time to do his hair or put real clothes on. The castle was under attack, his duties were more important.
Screams echo through the hallways. Some originated in anger, some in pain, some were distorted in fear. Yoongi made no difference between them. The castle was never supposed to be filled with screams. People ran, barely even noticing when they bumped into him. Yoongi looked into their eyes and saw fear. He understood them. Most of them never learned how to fight for fighting seemed unnecessary in the safety of the castle.
“Keep running! Take the tunnels leading to the mountains!” he tells them.
“Master! Young master!” one of the Queen’s servants, his hands were covered in blood.
He stumbles, clasping Yoongi’s arms tightly.
“The Queen. She is in danger.”
“Where is she?”
“The ballroom, she locked herself up with some of her servants. They, they are trying to break through.”
“Keep running, don’t stop until you are in the tunnels”, Yoongi tells the young servant before he runs faster.
They are all running away. While he is chasing the danger.
The air smells of blood and burning flesh. The fight must be near. He can hear the shrill screeching of metal. Just round the corner. His soldiers are fighting bravely. Just like he thought, those are Morrok’s men.
“Fuck”, he presses out, leaving his soldiers. They will manage. He needs to make sure the Queen is safe.
Yoongi fights his way through the crowd. His hands were warm from the blood of other people covering them. He slices through all of them, leaving a trail of bodies behind.
Just down the hallway. Yoongi stops. Fire was illuminating the path. Shadows hid behind them, turning at the sound of Yoongi dragging his sword over the ground.
He tilts his head to the side, giving the intruders a menacing smile.
“What? Are we going to stand here all night?” he taunts.
They scream, storming up to him. Fools.
Yoongi changes his stance, lowering his eyes like a tiger watching its prey. He welcomes them all, punishing their foolery with precise cuts through their bodies.
They fall. Every single one of them falls under his punishing claws, they are just another addition to his endless path of corpses.
He listens. Silence. Thumping in the distance just past the fires.
“Fucking hell”, he presses out before running down the fiery hallway, “never like this element, way too hot for my taste”, he murmurs, shielding his mouth and nose with the help of his hand.
Thump. Thump . Thump.
It is rhythmic.
Just up those stairs.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Yoongi slays five more people.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Yoongi can see the ballroom. Five men are trying to break through. Yoongi quickens his steps.
Then a punishing crack and the tall door falls apart.
He runs and runs. The screams are unbearable in his ears.
Yoongi reaches the ballroom just in time to watch one of the men pierce the Queen’s intestines with a spear.
“No!” he roars.
“Kill him! It’s just one, kill him!” Morrok’s men scream, pointing their weapons at Yoongi.
He slays every single one of them, granting them deaths so painful even the fairies of death weeps for their souls. He spared one of them. The one carrying the spear. He spared him after cutting off both his legs.
“Somebody help!” the man screams, fleeing from Yoongi.
He follows him over the floor, dragging his long sword behind himself and through the path of blood the man leaves behind.
“You are going to pay for what you did”, Yoongi growls angrily and blinded by rage he raises his sword to rip him apart like a tiger would its prey.
It is done. Yoongi stands in the man’s blood, hands shaking by his side for he was filled with rage.
“My Queen”, he is by her side in an instance, kneeling by her head, “my Queen don’t move.”
“Yoongi it was him, he let them inside.”
“Who did my Queen? Who?”
The Queen’s eyes flutter. She reaches for Yoongi’s hand. He grasps it tightly, soiling it with his dripping tears.
“My daughter…protect her…from her….husband…promise –“
“My Queen? My Queen?!”
Yoongi shakes her hand then her body then he touches her neck. No pulse.
“No, my Queen”, he presses out and whimpers, “my Queen forgive me, please forgive me.”
He closes her eyes with shaking fingers, forcing his tears down.
“I will protect her, I promise you”, he whispers, cupping her cheek, “farewell my Queen.”
He stands up with struggle for his knees wanted to give up in grief. He lost her, the woman who loved him as if he was her own flesh and blood. The woman, whose arms were wide open for him when he thought that the world didn't want him anymore. The woman, who gave him a chance at a new life and who taught him how to fight. And the woman he swore to protect with his life. He was supposed to die, not her. She was never supposed to die.
Yoongi sobs, fighting his way to the princess’ chambers. He didn’t know if his face felt warm from his tears or the blood of his enemies. Perhaps it was both, running down his cheeks and soiling his nightdress.
It was just over the courtyard. Yoongi felt his heart shatter with every corpse he passed. Those were his soldiers and his friends lying next to the enemy. All dead. It seemed as if he was the only one left alive.
He increases his steps. Was he already too late? Will the princess be dead already?
“Young tiger! Finally I looked for you everywhere! My wife, they took her”, the princess’ husband screams, running up to Yoongi with a dagger in his hand.
Yoongi felt blinding rage surge through his body. He let them inside. Safe her from her husband. The Queen’s words are ringing in his ears.
“You need to come with me please, I only have this measly dagger and I-I never learned how to fight”, he calls out.
Yoongi begins running. The husband smiles.
“Exactly, follow me”, he says excitedly, “it is just down by – “ his voice cuts off in a gurgle of pain.
Yoongi grunts and feels his sword pierce through the back of the traitor. He steps closer, forcing the blade through his stomach until his hand is touching the burning skin.
The husband gawks at him, asking him for reasons with just a look.
“This is for killing the Queen, you traitorous bastard”, Yoongi spits, twisting the sword and making the husband cry out his death screech.
Yoongi steps back, watching the pitiful corpse drop to the ground. He grunts, blinks his tears away and runs again.
He finds the princess on his journey to her chambers. They are dragging her away. She is screeching, fighting against their grasps.
“My princess!” Yoongi runs.
He is not going to break the promise he made to the Queen.
“Yoongi?” she whips around, “help me, you useless man!”
Yoongi falters in his steps.
But then. There are six of them and he feels his arm begin to tire out.
“Help me! Please help me!”
Yoongi tilts his head to the side and watches her with lifeless eyes.
She never treated him well. Perhaps he could just turn around.
“Shut up you whore”, one of the abductors yells and slaps her cheek.
“No”, she screeches.
Yoongi watches as one of the men forces a piece of cloth into her mouth. It makes her cry miserably. His blood boils in anger.
They are going to hurt her. They are going to hurt her in ways he wishes not even on his deepest enemies.
Yoongi tightens his grip around his sword and runs.
He is not going to let them hurt her. He swore to protect her. The evil spirits in his head tested him and he passed. He is not going to run away, he is going to fight.
Yoongi fights bravely, slaughtering four of them.
“Get him Kentov.”
The tall man raises his hammer. It shatters Yoongi’s sword in an instance, forcing him to stumble back.
“How?” he manages to get out and then fingers wrap themselves around his throat so tightly he sees darkness within seconds.
Yoongi opens his eyes and gasps. He sits up, grasping for his throat.
“You’re awake, finally.”
He looks to his side then down at his wrists. They are tied up. Just as his ankles are. He looks back at you.
“My princess”, he croaks.
“Yes you failed, we got captured”, you spit.
Yoongi looks around. You and him were on a carriage, locked in a cage.
“What happened?” he asks.
You scoff and look away, “you passed out after failing to protect me, now we are locked in this cage on our way to heavens knows where.”
Yoongi shifts into a more comfortable sitting position, letting his head fall against the wooden stakes. He grunts, scrunching his nose up. His shoulder aches unbearably.
“I watched you hesitate.”
He turns, just his head. There is anger on your features.
“You hesitated to save me.”
“Once we are back home I will tell mother of your disobedience.”
Yoongi grinds his teeth.
“Your mother is dead, Your Highness.”
“Killed because your husband betrayed you. There is no home to go back to.”
Yoongi watches your eyes fill with tears and he falters. He never saw you cry before.
“No, don’t say that. You’re lying!”
“I fear that I am not.”
“No”, you choke out and weep miserably.
Yoongi turns away again and closes his eyes. He won’t comfort you, instead he allows his own tears to run down his cheeks, keeping silent.
They feed you rotten bread that night. You don’t eat anything, neither does Yoongi.
They keep you close to the group by the horses.
“This is your fault”, you spit.
“My fault?” Yoongi growls.
“If you fought harder we wouldn’t be in this position right now. Hungry and freezing.”
“Ha”, Yoongi scoffs, grinding his teeth.
“You are just as useless as my husband. May the Morguls rip his soul apart.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue.
“Where is my husband? Shouldn’t he be with those traitors?”
Yoongi lowers his eyes in anger, “I killed him.”
“I cut open his stomach until I could watch life die out in his eyes.”
“How dare you? Do you want to be killed?”
Yoongi looks at you with dark eyes. You reach out and strike his face.
“Why are you hitting me?” he asks coldly, “I protected you.”
“You didn’t do shit. You hesitated, I saw you stop. You wanted them to take me”, you hit him a second time.
Yoongi grinds his teeth.
“If only my hands weren’t tied. I would choke the life out of you. This is all your fault, all of it.”
“My fault? I fought hard!”
“And yet my mother is dead. All of my friends are dead. Our people are dead. You failed to protect them. This all happened because of you!”
“With all due respect Your Highness, your words mean nothing to me and yes, perhaps I truly stopped for I remembered all the times you watched me suffer with amusement in your eyes”, Yoongi spits.
He watches your eyes fill with tears. Perhaps they were tears of sadness, perhaps they were tears of anger.
“Out of all the people and I am captured with you. Fuck, I should have just killed myself in my chambers.”
Yoongi scoffs and looks away.
“Perhaps you should have”, he murmurs.
You had walked for seven days until finally taking a break. It was hard, your feet ached so terribly and your limbs felt as heavy as stone. The land changed. The forest became darker and the air tenser. They tied you to one of the crippled trees. It was wet around you, cold and the stench of rotting flesh was lingering in the soil.
“Where do you think they are taking us?” you ask Yoongi, barely keeping your eyes open.
“To Morrok”, he answers you dryly.
“Morrok? But I thought he lived south.”
“They are moving camp so it seems.”
“Talks of a strong leader in the north. They call him Rafkan.”
“Rafkan”, you repeat the name, “I heard whispers of that name.”
“Yes, Your Highness. He is one of the Nïuri. It is said that the Black Forest of the Night Queendom was once a forest of golden oak trees until Rafkan claimed it for himself six hundred years ago. His hatred poisoned the forest until it was the mirror of his dark heart.”
“But the Nïuri are peaceful people, they use their immortality to build forests, to nourish nature and to, to protect the history of this world. Why would one of them be filled with so much evil that his heart is able to poison an entire forest?”
Yoongi looks at you with dark eyes, “Spite, anger, perhaps he grew bored of being used as a woman’s punching bag.”
The silence, which follows is heavy on your heart. You lower your eyes.
“And you believe that Morrok wants to join Rafkan?” you ask quietly.
“Yes, I believe he does”, Yoongi answers you dryly, resting his head back against the tree he was currently leaning against.
You look at your captors. They are laughing and singing by a fire, feasting on the deer they had killed this morning. They looked like friends having fun. How can they be filled with such hatred? They killed everyone. Your friends, your mother, your siblings. They left you alone, murdered innocent people and now they are celebrating as if they were nothing but innocent friends.
“I hate them so much”, you press out.
“Me too”, he answers you dryly, fighting sleep.
They look at you then, talking quietly. You shiver under their glares. It felt as if you were prey watched by an unbeatable enemy.
“They are looking at us”, you whisper.
Yoongi tenses up and opens his eyes.
One of the men stands up.
Yoongi sits up straight, turning to you.
“Put this on Your Highness”, he stresses.
“What? No! No, don't put dirt on my face”, you gasp, looking between Yoongi and his dirt covered fingers.
“I’m sorry Your Highness, truly”, he says.
“No, stay away, oh god the smell”, you say and gag, “no, where are you putting your hand? Stay away.”
“This is going to save you”, he says shakily, covering the insides of your thighs with the rotting soil as well.
“I will have your hands cut off”, you spit, wiggling away but to no avail.
“Hello hello”, the man announces himself.
Yoongi sits back, knee bouncing up and down nervously and eyes glued to the man’s face. He was pinning you down with his dark eyes, licking over his chapped lips hungrily.
“You know five months without a woman’s touch can make a man’s cock hurt unbearably”, the man begins, reaching down to twist your hair.
“I wonder how the cunt of a princess feels like. Is it tighter than that of a common witch?”
You squeak, heart beginning to race. You can see it. See it swell in his pants. Now you understand.
“Please don’t”, you beg.
The man smiles, “oh it’s always better when they are fighting me. Get up.”
He tugs on your hair, trying to get you to stand up.
“No p-please don’t do this.”
He chuckles, tilting your head up. Suddenly he stops, scrunching his nose up as he sniffles loudly.
“What is that smell?” he murmurs.
He twists your hair, leans closer and smells you.
“Urgh disgusting”, he exclaims, shooting away. His hand lands across your face harshly, “you dirty whore”, he growls, spitting on your face.
He turns, hurrying back to the others with curses leaving his throat.
“Oh god”, you choke out, reaching for your face. You feel for it, touch it despite the rotting soil on your skin, “you.”
You turn to Yoongi. He is looking at you, holding his breath.
“You saved me”, you whisper.
He lowers his eyes.
Yoongi stays quiet, ripping off a piece of his dress. He gets on his knees, turning to you.
“Please let me clean you, Your Highness.”
You nod your head, shivering when his fingers come to rest on the nape of your neck. He touches your cheek tentatively and begins cleaning you as best as possible.
“How did you know that this would work?”
Yoongi looks into your eyes for only a moment, faltering in an instance for looking at you was always paired with consequences.
“It’s what me and my sister used to do when the bad men came to our village”, he confesses quietly.
“Our mother taught us how to protect ourselves against people wanting to use our bodies. She always told us to be disgusting, to shit or pee or vomit all over ourselves because the people wanting us harm don’t like dirty people.”
He cleans the last piece off, discarding the fabric somewhere on the ground. He lowers his eyes.
“I’m sorry Your Highness, for touching your thighs in such manners and for covering you in dirt. I shall take my punishment accordingly.”
You touch his chin, making him tense up. You tilt his head up, making him look into your eyes.
“Thank you”, you whisper and smile.
Yoongi is puzzled, furrowing his brows and blinking rapidly.
Yoongi had been missing for too long. They took him, dragging him away from you until you couldn’t see them anymore. It has been too long. The shadows have wandered too much. They shouldn’t be gone for so long. He should be back by now.
He helped you again earlier that night. They tried to come for you again so Yoongi helped you, he tried to cover your face in some animal’s feces. He got caught and got dragged away in your stead.
Two men stayed with you. They watched you the entire time, talking with each other about what they would do to you if only the boss would allow them. It made you press yourself against your cage in fear. You had never heard men talk in such ways before, you didn’t even know that they were capable of such thoughts in the first place. Until now you had only really heard a few of your fellow women talk in such manners and yet it seems that men were just as cruel in their thoughts.
They brought Yoongi to you once the sun began to set. He clearly struggled with his steps, stumbling every so often. One of the men had an iron grip around his long hair, keeping him from escaping.
“You’re back?” one of your two guards says.
“He didn’t scream, tzt, he is no fun”, the man whose hand is in Yoongi’s hair says, “walk.”
He pushes Yoongi, making him stumble to the cage. He unlocks it and throws Yoongi inside.
Yoongi collides with the ground in a painful groan, rolling on his back and keeping his eyes squeezed shut as he breathes heavily.
“Sleep well fucker”, the man spits, locking the cage.
He walks off with the two other men, whistling a cheerful melody.
Now you are truly alone with Yoongi.
Yoongi groans and sits up slowly.
“Fuck”, he presses out.
His eyes meet yours. He clenches his jaw.
“Did they hurt you?” you ask him.
“Tzt”, he looks away.
“Where did they hurt you?”
“Just leave me alone”, he spits, crawling into one corner of the cage to lie down again.
“I can help.”
“Keep it, your hands do more harm than good.”
That hits deep. You lower your eyes in shame.
“At least let me look at it.”
“You swore to protect me, didn’t you? I can’t have you die on me.”
Yoongi stays silent.
“Yoongi this is an order.”
He turns his back to you.
You gasp. They ripped his clothes open at the back.
“Are those burn marks?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer you.
“They burned you, didn’t they?”
He sighs an annoyance.
“I can help you”, you say, crawling to him as best as your tied limbs allow you to. You place your hands on his shoulder.
He flinches away.
“Don’t touch me”, he growls.
“Where else did they burn you?”
He turns around. Anger is distorting his face
“I said to leave me alone!” he spits.
“What good can cruel hands like yours do? You inflicted more pain on me than any other person and now you want to use them for good?” he lets his dark eyes run over your face, “I should have allowed them to drag you away.”
“Don’t say that”, you gasp, feeling your heart shatter in your chest, “please let me help”, you beg, cupping his ruined face.
He flinches away.
“This all happened because of you”, he growls angrily, “if you had been nicer to your husband he wouldn’t have felt the need to betray us.”
You close your mouth, falling against the cage with a painful laugh.
He clicks his tongue and scoffs, turning his back to you again.
“Is that what you think of me?” you whisper, waiting for an answer that will never come.
You have been walking the entire day. The sun is sweltering, punishing even. Your throat is so dry that the taste of blood has been lingering on your tongue for way too long. You are so close to the end of your strengths. But you weren’t worried about yourself, you were worried about Yoongi.
His skin was covered in sweat and yet he shivered. It was pale, grey even. He stumbled more than he walked. The redness on his back has grown, spanning all over his shoulder blades. It is almost reaching his neck too, spreading through his veins like a curse.
“Yoongi”, you whisper.
He stays quiet, barely keeping his eyes open.
“Yoongi how are you feeling?”
He glances at you and scoffs.
“He needs a break!” you call out.
The men snicker, but don’t turn around.
“Please at least give him some water!”
“Quiet whore”, one of them whips around and slaps you across the face so hard you feel your lip break. You can’t barely feel the pain which follows, you are too worried for Yoongi.
“Please just one sip.”
“He wants one sip? Fine he can have a sip”, the man spits, grabbing Yoongi’s chin harshly to force water down his throat.
Yoongi gags and chokes.
“Stop that! Stop it!”
Their laughter taunts you.
The man finally lets go of Yoongi, making him cough and fall to his knees.
“I hope you enjoyed your water, Sire.”
Yoongi grunts, twisting the dried grass between his fingers.
“Let’s get going!”
The group begins moving again. Yoongi stays on the ground.
“Yoongi stand up”, you order him shakily, “I’m ordering you to stand up”, you stress, looking behind you at the two very heavily armed men coming closer and closer.
“Hey you! Keep walking!” they call out, quickening their steps.
“Yoongi please stand up”, you beg, tugging at the sleeve of his dress, “they’re going to hurt you if you don’t stand up.”
Yoongi doesn’t budge, panting heavily.
“They’re coming Yoongi”, you fall to your knees, trying your hardest to wiggle your head between his tied up arms. You could lift him like that, if only he would let you wiggle inside.
“Stand up!” the man yells and whips Yoongi on the back.
Yoongi tenses up and lets out an almost inaudible whimper.
“Stop that! He’s already standing up!” you scream.
You tug at Yoongi’s arm, “please stand up.”
“I can’t”, he whispers shakily.
“What? No, you have to. He is going to hurt you again”, you whisper with tears in your eyes.
“Time’s over, stand up”, the man barks and raises his whip.
“No!” you exclaim, hugging Yoongi’s back to accept the hit in his stead. You whimper, grasping Yoongi’s arm tightly. It hurts like nothing you have ever felt before, forcing the tears to run down your cheeks, “why are you doing this to him? He didn’t do anything wrong! Hurt me instead!”
The man scoffs, storing his whip back on his belt.
“Don’t you get it princess? You are reserved for Morrok. We’ll just have to hurt your warrior in your stead.”
“You monsters”, you sob, hiding your face in Yoongi’s back, “Yoongi please stand up”, you beg.
“Hey Kentov help this fucker up, it’s no good if he dies here”, the leader yells from the front.
“Yes my Lord”, Kentov grumbles and grabs Yoongi’s arms, “stand up Sire, seems like the boss still wants you to live.”
Yoongi can barely stand. You are by his side in an instance, holding him as best as possible.
“I’ll help you. Lean onto me Yoongi.”
“Walk, we don’t have all day", Kentov and the other man push you and Yoongi.
Yoongi stumbles, you hold him as best as possible, forcing down a painful sob as looking at Yoongi’s face rips your heart apart.
They leave you far away from the fire, shackled to a tree and with hunger plaguing your bodies. They hit you again - Kentov and the other man - when their boss wasn’t looking. It hurt you, but you didn’t care, not when Yoongi was lying beside you unconscious and barely breathing.
“See you tomorrow princess, sleep tight.”
And with that they leave whilst laughing as if life was the greatest joy. You glare at them, cursing them silently. Yoongi moves below you, moaning in pain.
“Yoongi”, you gasp, turning him around, “no, Yoongi please wake up”
You drag him back to the tree with lots of effort. You allow him to rest his head on your lap. He rolls to his side, pulling his legs to his chest before whimpering softly.
“Why are they hurting you? Why you?” you ask shakily, caressing his ruined face with trembling fingers. It rips you apart inside for he was never supposed to bear your sufferings or those of your traitorous husband. You sob, soiling his face with your hot tears.
“I’m sorry Yoongi, I’m so sorry for doing this to you”, a whimper shakes your body, “I’m sorry.”
You tug a strand of his blonde hair behind his ear, stroking your hand over his cheek desperately.
“I will fix this. I, I can fix this”, you stutter and close your eyes, “I can fix this.”
Yoongi barely takes in the spells of your ancestors you begin to whisper. He feels that his face doesn’t ache as much anymore however. You sob, whispering shakily. The words are hard to remember. You never paid attention when your mother taught you the magic of your ancestors. You curse yourself for not being more attentive, maybe then you could have already escaped your abductors and Yoongi would have never had to suffer.
At least you paid attention when your mother taught you the healing spells of your people and while you remembered only one of the dozen spells you hoped that it was the one most effective.
Yoongi opens his eyes all of sudden, looking up at you.
You touch his back.
“No!” he squeaks and flinches away. He presses his eyes closed, trembling in fear.
“Please trust me”, you whisper and sob softly, “I will stop the pain.”
Yoongi listens to the words of ancient times, eyes filling with tears because he felt it hurt less and less with every word you spoke until it stopped completely.
You open your eyes, meeting his relieved gaze.
“Did I help?” you ask him.
He nods his head, furrowing his brows, “thank you so much”, he chokes out.
Your heart fills with relief and yet it keeps aching.
You whimper, cupping his cheek, “I’m so sorry, for everything.”
“No, I’m not worthy of your respect”, you sob, “please call me by my name.”
Yoongi closes his eyes and whimpers quietly. You comb your fingers through his hair, hoping that this could lessen the pain in his mind.
“Forgive me Yoongi, I don’t deserve your forgiveness but please I am so terribly sorry”, you choke out.
Yoongi sits up with your help. He faces you, reaching out to cup your cheek and brush your tears away.
“We have to escape from here”, he whispers, “Your Highness, we can’t stay here. Who knows what they will do to you now that their restraints are gone.”
“I don’t care”, you whimper, “let them hurt me, at least I deserve to be hurt for all the cruelty I inflicted on others.”
“No my princess, you don’t want to live through this”, he insists, “you don’t know what they are capable of.”
“Why are you defending me? You said so yourself, I inflicted more pain on you than anyone else. They hurt you because of me. It’s my fault”, choke out and sob.
Yoongi grasps your face tighter, forcing you to look into his eyes. They were filled with tears, yet deep down you found comfort in them.
“I lost my sister to people like Morrok. I had to watch as they all took turns on her until she died from the pain and even then they didn’t stop. Don’t you get it? These people aren’t human and they are going to do the same thing to you once we reach Morrok.”
He rests his forehead against yours.
“I can’t let this happen to you. I made a promise to your mother to keep you safe and I intend on keeping it”, he whispers, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours.
“Yoongi”, you whimper, twisting the front of his dress. Your tears feel heavy as they roll down your cheeks, but they were nothing against the heaviness on your heart as you opened your eyes and realised that he had his closed. They were nothing against the invisible hand around your lungs as you realised that he exhaled shakily before opening them. They were nothing against the unbearable flutter in your stomach when they finally met yours.
“I will find a way, please trust me”, he whispers.
“I trust you Sire.”
He nods his head.
“Now turn around, Your Highness, I need to see if your wound is infected.”
“No, you don’t have to. I can heal myself”, you say, running your fingers over your lip to heal your cut in demonstration.
He hums in understanding and sneaks a glance at the men far away.
“You should sleep Your Highness, I feel like tomorrow we aren’t going to stop for a long time.”
“What about you?”
“I will make sure that nobody hurts you.”
“No, you should sleep in my stead. I’m not tired.”
“Your Highness I – “
You silence him by cupping his cheeks.
“This is an order, Sire.”
He falters, furrowing his brows.
“I’m not going to repeat myself”, you say sternly and settle back against the tree. You part your legs, “rest against me, I will keep you warm.”
He is hesitant, studying you from head to toe. You are offering him kindness, a warm place to sleep. This isn’t like you. What happened to the cruel princess he so liked to hate?
“Come here”, you order.
Yoongi obeys groggily. He wiggles between your tied up arms and rests against your chest. Every fibre in his body is tensed. This can’t be happening. You rest your hands on his stomach.
“Now rest back and sleep”, you whisper.
He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t want to rest his head back against you. This goes beyond his promise of protecting you.
“Rest”, you say sternly, forcing him to his luck with a gentle push with your hands.
Yoongi grunts, exhaling loudly the moment the back of his head collides with your shoulder.
You stay silent, abandoning Yoongi in his racing thoughts. The lines between reality and his memory of you are starting to blur more and more. Are you even the cruel princess or is your sudden kindness just a desperate act of survival now that you had nobody else but him? Did you truly want his best or were you simply trying to keep him by your side because you feared for your life? Did you care for him?
Yoongi drifted off to sleep before he could get his answers, snuggling into your chest and sighing softly.
They are talking. Kentov and another man. They are talking a few steps away from you, having their backs turned to you and Yoongi. Yoongi watches them intently, studying them from head to toe to find weaknesses in their armour.
It was silent where they abandoned him and the princess, if they weren’t talking so much the silence would have been comfortable even. The princess was currently sleeping, resting her head against Yoongi’s shoulder. He felt her every shiver because of the cold night air, wishing for fire fairies to come to her rescue and warm her with their golden breaths. He knew that tonight must be the night of their escape. The whispers of Morrok became more. They must be close. He can’t wait yet another night and risk the princess’ wellbeing in the process.
The princess shifts beside him, pressing herself closer in search for warmth. He felt himself shiver less on the parts of his body she touches. She was warming him as well.
Yoongi lowers his eyes and concentrates on cutting through his ropes again. He watches his abductors as he works, planning his attack. The man next to Kentov is only carrying his sword tonight. What a fool. Kentov only carried a small knife, playing with it mindlessly. Oh what simple fools. It will be an easy task to overwhelm them.
He turns his head to the princess and nudges her with his chin.
“Your Highness wake up”, he whispers.
The princess purrs in her sleep, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. He truly felt guilty for having to wake her. She fought bravely through her tiredness. Yoongi knew that her healing magic kept her alive, for every other person would have long died of exhaustion. But even magic has its limits and it seems that tonight was the night her body forsake her. She fell asleep on his shoulder the moment she sat down. He should allow her to sleep, but he can’t.
“Your Highness wake up”, he tries again, shaking his shoulder softly.
You groan, blinking slowly.
“It’s time Your Highness”, Yoongi says.
“For what?” your voice was heavy in sleep.
“They are speaking of Morrok again. We are getting too close, we need to flee tonight.”
You finally lift your head from his shoulder, looking at him with heavy eyes.
“Now? In this darkness?”
He nods his head, “it will hide us.”
“I understand”, you nod your head slowly, blinking your eyes, “How are we going to flee?” you ask him.
“I will do it.”
“But your limbs are tied.”
“Not anymore”, he says, revealing his untied wrists and ankles.
“How?” you gasp.
“They were foolish enough to place us next to those sharp stones. I used them to cut through the ropes”, he explains.
He gets on his knees and cups your face. You feel your cheeks tingle at the touch.
“Now stay Your Highness, I will overwhelm them”, he whispers.
Yoongi moves fast and silent. Like a phantom of white light he dances around the two men, striking them down quickly. One falls down with his neck broken. Kentov startles, turning to his now dead friend only to run directly into Yoongi’s blade. Yoongi twists the sharp blade in the eye socket of the man, muffling his screams with a suffocating grip on his mouth. Finally, Yoongi watches the life die out of Kentov’s eye. He drops his body without making a sound, pulling the blade free and wiping it on the man’s clothes.
Then he turns back to you. There was blood on his face and hands. He closes the distance between you and him, cutting through your ropes.
“That was astonishing Sire”, you gasp, grasping his arm as he helps you stand up.
“That was nothing”, he dismisses you, hurrying back to the bodies. He takes one of the men, looking at you over his shoulder, “help me Your Highness, we need to hide the bodies.”
You help him, grunting quietly as you drag the heavy body of Kentov behind some shrubs.
“Now let’s run, we need to put distance between us and Morrok’s people.”
Yoongi stops and turns. He watches you take off Kentov’s sword belt and strip the two men of their furs. You stand up, wrapping one of the furs around your body.
“Here take these.”
Yoongi strips the sword to his body and drapes the fur over his shoulders. The knife he stores in the belt as well, grasping your hand next.
“Now quiet, follow me.”
You run, using what little moonlight the tense forest allowed to shine through as your only guidance. Your legs wanted to give up on you. Sleep was still lingering in your veins, making your head so terribly dizzy. But you knew not to complain and to keep running. You weren’t just gallivanting through the forest on a moonlit night because it was fun, you were running for your lives. You aren’t allowed to stop. Yoongi said so himself, you and him needed to put as much distance between Morrok’s men and yourself as possible.
“I can see the end”, he calls over his shoulder, “hurry Your Highness it’s not long anymore.”
You watch his hair dance in the wind. Then the forest stops. The moon is blinding after the endless darkness, soaking his hair in silver lights and painting his skin in ivory. He turns, slowing down and touching your shoulders.
“Please hold on for only a little longer. You know this path don’t you?”
You nod your head, breathing so heavily you taste blood on your tongue. You have been running for too long, your healing magic is so close to forsaking you.
“We walked this path this morning, we just need to reach this forest and then we can hide in the shrubs”, he tells you, “hold on until then.”
Then you run again. You run over the endless fields, fighting the punishing winds. The furs are helping a little with the cold, but your eyes burned unbearably. You stumble and fall.
Yoongi turns, lifting you up quickly.
“Don’t stop now, it is not long anymore.”
“I’m so tired.”
“I know Your Highness, me too. I’m terribly tired, but please find strength in your legs. We need to find shelter in the forest. Those fields are too open.”
The sky burns in the fires of the rising sun once you reach the forest. Behind you the moon was still setting, disappearing behind the black forest which seems like a dark spot in the distance now.
You don’t go far into the forest and then your legs are already giving up on you, dragging Yoongi down with you. You and him roll down a steep hill of sharp gravel and wet dirt, colliding with a high wall of red rocks in the end.
You groan, rolling to your back.
Yoongi grunts, head aching from hitting it against the rock on impact.
“I think my leg is broken”, you press out.
“Don’t try to move it”, he chokes out, holding his aching wrist. He is sure that he broke it as well.
“Urgh heavens”, you groan, forcing your body to sit up one last time. You stare at your slanted leg, moving it slightly. You hiss and bite down on your own hand, “oh, it is most definitely broken.”
“Don’t move it Your Highness”, Yoongi answers you, barely keeping his eyes open. Exhaustion is catching up with him.
You touch your broken bone and close your eyes. The words of your ancestors come easy to your tongue these days. Relief is instant. You can feel how your bone shifts back into its place and how your words mend the cracks.
“I healed it”, you whisper, carrying shock in your voice, “Sire, I managed to heal my broken bones.”
“Mhm, that’s good Your Highness”, he breathes.
“Sire your wrist and head”, you gasp, dragging yourself over to him. You touch his head first, whispering the words again. Yoongi sighs softly, moving his head slightly now that it wasn’t aching anymore.
“Hand me your wrist next, I will heal it.”
Yoongi is too weak to fight back, allowing you to wrap your fingers around his wrist despite the pain it causes him. The pain isn’t of long however and then blissful relief follows. His bones and tendons shift under your fingertips, healing under your spell.
“How is that?” you ask him.
He peels his eyes open slightly, nodding his head.
“Your magic is getting quicker Your Highness”, he whispers with his voice barely there.
“I know”, you smile tiredly, collapsing on the ground, “it drains me so much however.”
Yoongi hums, scooping you up in his arms. Like this you are sharing warmth again, finding comfort in his chest.
You fall asleep in an instance, sharing a deep slumber with Yoongi as above your heads the sun moves over the sky twice before your eyes finally open again.
You walked for five days then you reached a river. It was clear, reflecting the blue of the sky. You were drinking some of the water while Yoongi was washing his weapons and hands beside you when your eyes caught something moving in the reeds on the other side of the river. You squint your eyes to see better and gasp. A human!
“Sire, look there is someone in the river!”
Yoongi whips around, eyes squinted so he could see better. He picks up his sword and runs to you.
“Stay here Your Highness”, he orders you, jumping into the river.
It isn’t steep where you are sojourning, reaching Yoongi by his navel. He can wade through it easily. He turns around.
“Your Highness I told you to stay back”, he hisses.
“Well, I decided that I want to help”, you answer him.
Yoongi looks at the big stone you are holding and scoffs.
“With that?” he asks and nods at the stone
You sneak a glance at it.
“Fine, if they move try to hit them with all your power”, he murmurs and grabs your hand, “don’t let go Your Highness.”
“I won’t”, you promise him, hating your skin for prickling at the feeling.
The body was stuck in sticks and high grasses. Yoongi squats down and turns it.
A man. Black hair. His face was handsome yet pale, his plump lips were blue and purple.
“Is he dead?” you ask.
Yoongi touches the man’s neck.
“No, he’s alive.”
“Then let’s help him!” you exclaim, dropping the stone to wrap your fingers around the stranger’s wrist instead.
Yoongi stops you.
“Why are you stopping me? Look, he is clearly hurt!”
You and him look at the bite mark on the man’s leg. Blood is dyeing the water red around the water. Yoongi reaches for the man’s chest then, pulling the ripped shirt away.
“What’s that mark? Is that a raven?” you ask, looking between the stranger’s tattoo and Yoongi’s face.
Yoongi seems worried.
“Just as I had thought”, he murmurs coldly and stands up, “come Your Highness it’s not safe here”, he says and grabs your hand.
“What? But we need to help this man”, you insist loudly.
“No. He is one of them”, Yoongi says, tugging you away from the stranger.
“One of them? Morrok’s people? But they don’t wear such marks.”
“Rafkan’s people, Your Highness. He is a Raven.”
You look at the stranger.
“But…he doesn’t look like one.”
Yoongi scoffs and tugs at your arm.
“We need to keep moving”, he says dryly.
“No, I want to help this man. Maybe they marked him against his will and he escaped.”
Yoongi looks into your eyes.
“Your Highness I – “
“This is an order, Sire.”
He grinds his teeth and sighs in defeat.
“Very well, we’ll help. But I’m not staying until he wakes.”
He walks back to the stranger and lifts him onto his back. He grunts, changes his grip on the stranger’s arms and walks back to you.
“I saw a shed a hundred steps from here, we’ll lie him down by the riverbed and then we’ll leave.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue, giving you one judgemental look before fighting his way through the water. You stay by his side, making sure that the stranger doesn’t slip off of Yoongi’s back.
“Do you think that someone lives in this shed?” you ask him.
“The chimney is smoking, so yes Your Highness”, he answers you.
“So let’s ask them for help. Or new clothes and some food”, you say.
“We don’t know whose side they are on Your Highness.”
You huff out air.
“You’re right, I didn’t even think of that”, you murmur.
Thankfully the river didn’t become any deeper so it was an easy task to carry the stranger to the riverbed and then set him down on the safety of dry land. You put a stone under the stranger’s head so he would rest more comfortably, even if that made Yoongi shake his head in disagreement. He watches you stand up with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“Nothing”, he murmurs. He looks at the shed, a little less than fifteen steps up on the hill, “let’s go, Your Highness.”
“Where are we going now?”
“They have clothes hanging outside.”
“What? Do you want to steal that poor person’s clothes?” you gasp, wiggling your hand in Yoongi’s tight grip.
“No. I’m not going to steal!”
“You don’t have to, I will.”
He sends you a glare over his shoulder.
“We need new clothes, the weather is going to get colder. We are going to freeze in those measly dresses.”
You huff out air, “fine, but place this on their steps”, you say and take off one of your rings.
Yoongi accepts it with a grumble before stomping off to steal the clothes.
You watch him with a guilty sting in your stomach, biting on your fingernails nervously.
He returns with a heap of clothes in his arms.
“Let’s leave”, he grumbles.
“I can’t believe that we stole that person’s clothes”, you say, looking over your shoulder at the ever smaller growing shed.
“We paid for them, that ring is worth more than hundreds of those clothes. They will forgive us.”
You huff out air and kick a stone back into the river.
“Do you think the wounded stranger will be found soon?”
“By the person in the shed?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think they saw us taking their clothes?”
“I hope not.
“How long do you think we still need to walk?”
“Far enough that they won’t find us.”
“Do you know where this river will lead us?”
“Do you know where we are?”
“No Your Highness.”
“Do you think this is still our home country?”
Yoongi stops and turns around. You almost collided with his body in the process, stopping with a surprised squeak leaving your throat.
“Please, for just a moment be quiet”, he hisses.
You pout, “are you forbidding me my mouth?”
“Yes Your Highness I am. We don’t know where we are or what lingers in those forests and your endless chattering will alarm everything in a radius of fifty miles.”
You cross your arms in front of your arms and furrow your brows.
“Perhaps, but I am trying to keep you alive.”
“Fine”, you give in and huff out air, “I’ll be quiet from now on.”
He nods his head in agreement and turns back around to lead the way.
You are quiet for the rest of the way, watching the back of Yoongi’s head most of the time. He is using a dirty rag to keep his long hair out of his face. He ripped it off his nightgown and the hairstyle was messy. He also dearly needs a hair wash, but you weren’t any better either. Your smell is disgusting you.
You find your shelter after an hour of walking. An abandoned shed beside the river. The windows were missing and the door was almost falling out of its hinges. It seems safe for the night, dry too and it had a working bucket inside. It was truly a welcome change to the otherwise cold and wet nights outside.
You sit down in front of it with an exhausted sigh, watching Yoongi throw the pile of clothes in front of your feet and then sit down as well. He begins sorting through the clothes in an instance, doing so with a concentrated furrow of his brows.
“You should go wash up Your Highness, I’ll take watch”, he tells you.
He looks up with bafflement on his face.
“But it’s cold.”
He scoffs and looks back at the clothes.
“Fine”, you murmur, “I’m already going.”
You hide behind a big rock so Yoongi wouldn’t be able to glance at you. Not that he would ever look at you when you were bared. You know that he was way too stuck up and obsessed with his duties to think so crudely.
You sink into the water with a loud squeak.
“What’s wrong?” you can hear Yoongi’s worried call.
“It’s so cold!” you tell him.
You don’t hear anything from him afterwards, but you know that he is most definitely scoffing right now, or maybe he is clicking his tongue instead.
The water isn’t just cold, it is icy. Your body is covered in goosebumps and shivers make your muscles tense painfully. You hate every second of being submerged and yet somehow being submerged in cold yet clean water feels like luxury after weeks of having to sleep in your own shit and piss.
And while the bath would have been even more effective with the help of soaps, you finally feel human again once you leave the river. You wrap your dirty clothes around your body, walking back to Yoongi barefoot.
“Ouch, ah, ouch”, you grunt.
Yoongi looks at you in worry, eyes widening when he sees the half-naked state you were in. He turns around quickly, scratching the side of his neck.
“Those stones hurt on the feet”, you say and sit down next to him.
He turns around even more, clearing his throat before he stands up. He has his back turned to you.
“I’m going to clean up now. I put your new clothes on the log over there”, he tells you nervously, hurrying down to the river afterwards.
You chuckle. He is so stuck-up sometimes.
Then you turn to the pile of clothes and begin to dress yourself. They are a big change to your ripped nightgown. The fabric is thick and sturdy, warming your limbs. You look down at your body. It is so peculiar to see your legs in trousers. They aren’t really tradition in your lands, for neither women nor men. You liked them however. They feel so warm. You could get used to it.
Once dressed you do your hair, tying it out of your face and neck. Your mother always told you that it was important to keep the wet hair out of your neck on a cold day, otherwise a terrible cold could take control of your body. The memory makes your chest ache. Oh what you wouldn’t give to experience it once again, if only so you could freshen up your memory of your mother’s face.
You finish the hairstyle by tying a tight knot.
“Finally, oh I feel human again”, you sigh.
You turn then.
“Oh”, you gasp.
Yoongi isn’t hiding behind the rock. He has his back turned to you, the water reaches just above his hips.
You should look away. It is rude to look.
His body is sturdier than it seemed in the loose dresses of your people. Broad shoulders and a well defined back. Strong arms with lean muscles tensing and relaxing as he rubs his body clean. His skin is fair yet covered in scars. You wonder what could have happened to him.
Yoongi lowers himself then, grunting as he does. He disappears for a moment, making you hold your breath with him.
Suddenly he emerges with a loud gasp, stroking his hands through his hair. He has his head tilted back, giving you a glimpse of his face. His eyes are closed, his lips parted as he is breathing heavily because of the cold temperature.
You should look away. You are such a dirty woman.
Yoongi stands up again. The water drips from his body, looking like stars against the sunlight. He is farther out the water now, giving you a glimpse of the beginning of his bottom.
Your heart flutters. You should look away. You have to look away. It is not your right to watch him bathe.
He turns then. Your heart races. Time allows you to see his toned torso just enough that you can notice the dozens of scars covering his pale skin and then your eyes have travelled far enough up his body that your gazes meet.
You feel like your eyes may fall out of their sockets because of how wide you rip them open. You turn away in an instance, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“What is wrong with me?” you murmur.
You can hear his steps as he makes his way back to you. He leans down to pick up his clothes, his hair is dripping water on the ground. Your heart is racing uncontrollably. Oh how you hope that he won’t call you out on your staring.
“Are you liking the clothes, Your Highness?” he asks.
“Yes, they are warm”, you answer him, touching your own cheeks to stop them from burning.
“Good”, he says dryly then disappears inside the shed to change into his clothes.
You look at him again as he leaves, running your eyes over his shoulders and down his spine to his legs.
You laugh nervously, touching your chest to feel your racing heartbeat.
“Have I lost my mind?”
Yoongi steps out after a while. He is carrying his sword. Your eyes meet, your heart beginning to flutter again. He knows what you are thinking and you know what he is thinking, yet neither one of you speaks it out loud.
“I’m going to hunt”, he says dryly.
“I’ll come with you”, you say, stumbling to your feet.
“No, stay here and prepare the fire.”
He steps closer, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. Your heart skips yet another beat at the gesture.
“Take this, use it against anyone and anything that isn’t me”, he tells you, placing a big knife in your palm.
You close your fingers around the handle, pulse racing in your chest.
“If someone tries to attack you, stab them here”, he says, pulling you closer to his body. The tip of the knife is digging into his stomach, his fingers feel strong around your wrist, keeping your hand in place.
You swallow, nodding your head.
“And if that isn’t possible, try to stab them here”, he explains further, moving the tip of the knife to his armpit, “and do it hard”, he adds, grunting quietly as he makes you poke him with the knife.
Oh you must be losing your mind. You have never felt such sparks before. As if millions of fire fairies were crawling over your skin.
“This is also a good place. If you cut deep enough it will kill them within seconds”, he says, guiding the knife to his groin, making your eyes widen in the process. His fingers tighten around your wrist, his legs part so he could show it to you better, “cut like this and they can’t walk”, he shows it to you, sending your mind into a frenzy.
You nod your head in understanding, eyes flitting up and meeting with Yoongi’s. He is frowning, he doesn’t falter under your gaze but you do. You never falter. You must be losing your mind.
“Understood?” he asks.
You clear your throat and take a step back, twisting the knife in your fingers.
“Y-yes thank you”, you say.
“Mhm”, Yoongi says, turning his back to you. He looks at you over his shoulder, “I’ll be back at nightfall. Don’t go too far.”
“I-I won’t”, you stutter.
“Mhm”, he nods his head in contentment then finally runs into the forest.
He soon disappears behind high trees and tense shrubs.
“Ha”, you let out and laugh breathlessly, “I must be losing my mind. I must be losing my mind. I just must.”
You had been trying for hours to light this fire.
“Come on, how hard can it be to light a fire?” you murmur angrily.
The door opens and in steps Yoongi, carrying two rabbits. He studies you from head to toe then looks at the unlit fire.
"I was out for three hours, what did you do in this time?" he asks, squatting down next to you to take the stones out of your hands.
"Trying to start a fire", you hiss.
Yoongi hits the stones together. Sparks fly, the dry grass is catching fire in an instance.
“How did you manage to do that?” you gasp.
He clicks his tongue, sneaking a look your way. Yoongi blows on the embers until flames swirl in his breath and reach the wood.
"Oh why is it smoking so much?" you gasp, coughing loudly.
"Where did you get those twigs from?"
"The forest, I picked them."
"Did you pick them off the ground or off the trees?"
"The trees of course, the wood on the ground looked dirty."
Yoongi scoffs, shaking his head.
"The wood is too wet, pick up the twigs off the ground next time."
You huff out air, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way and scoffs.
"You're belittling me."
"I wouldn’t dare", he murmurs sarcastically and straightens up, "there we go, the fire should burn despite the wrong twigs. Come let's skin the rabbits."
"Yes?" he quirks up his left brow, "unless you want to eat them with their fur."
"No, n-no of course not I am just", you laugh nervously.
"Have you never skinned a rabbit before?"
"Of course not. Why should I have? I'm the princess."
"Well", he clicks his tongue, "you're going to learn tonight”, he says dryly and throws one of the dead rabbits on your lap.
You gagged as you did it. You gagged and almost threw up. So Yoongi ended up doing the rest of your rabbit, giving you the task of fetching water from the river. You didn’t miss the judgment in his voice as he spoke.
You managed to fetch water, that task was easy enough for you. Oh you felt like such a useless idiot.
Yoongi in the meantime had stuck the rabbits into the flames to cook. He is staring into the fire when you enter the shed, lips pressed into a thin line and brows furrowed.
He raises his head at the sound of the door closing.
"Yes I am and I got water."
Yoongi scoffs in amusement, looking back into the flames. You claim your previous spot next to Yoongi, placing the bucket of water between you and him.
Yoongi fetches water, presenting it to you.
"Drink Your Highness."
"Thank you", you accept it.
The water is cold and tastes clean. After the torture you have been through you will always cherish this sensation.
You prepare a bowl for Yoongi once you finish yours.
"You need to drink too, Sire."
Yoongi looks at the bowl then into your eyes.
"Thank you", he accepts it and drinks.
You look into the flames, watching the rabbits slowly turn brown. Yoongi cleans his hands in the remaining water, drying them on his ruined nightgown which he had crumbled up beside him.
"Do you think that we can return home one day?" you ask.
"Yes, I truly hope you can."
"And you?" you ask, turning your head to him.
"I'll make sure that you will."
"God, you are truly dedicated to your duties aren’t you?"
"Yes, Your Highness, they are important to me."
"Is that why you accepted everything I did to you?"
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way.
"I truly feel terrible for my past, I never should have hurt you. You truly didn’t deserve it."
Yoongi stays silent, fumbling with his fingers nervously.
"You know", you look at his face, "I never actually thought you ugly. I just said it because everyone else said it" you pause, studying his face, "I apologize, you aren’t ugly."
Yoongi blinks rapidly, lowering his head before turning away. He laughs quietly, almost in disbelief even, shaking his head and scratching the side of his neck.
"Where did you get the scar on your face from?"
He falters, sneaking a glance your way. You seem honest in your interest.
"From my days on the streets", he says quietly, "I don't want to talk about it."
"Forgive me for asking."
He dismisses with a quick shake of his head.
"Is that where you got all the other scars from too?"
Yoongi touches his torso, "some of them. Many I got from protecting the Queen."
You inhale shakily.
"Fuck", he presses out and lowers his head, "I should have been with her. If I ran faster I could have saved her. It's my fault that she is dead."
"No Sire, no. It's not your fault. It was Morrok's people who killed her. You did your best. And if mother was here right now she would tell you that you are truly her strongest warrior."
Yoongi lets out a trembling breath and squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t cry, not in front of you.
"And also thank you for deciding to save me and for keeping me safe", you say.
“Mhm”, he hums and nods his head. He is squeezing his own fingers so much that his knuckles are turning white.
"Can I be blunt with you?"
"I'm a pitiful woman."
Yoongi looks at you in confusion.
"I never killed something before, all the trophies on the walls are that of my friends. I just pretended that they were mine.”
You laugh painfully, “and without you I would already be dead, I have no idea of the workings of the world."
Yoongi scoffs, "yeah I noticed”, he murmurs, earning himself a glare from you.
"Fine I'll take that blow”, you murmur and pout.
Yoongi chuckles deeply, shaking his head.
"And yet", your smile falls, "I can't help but feel guilty. My mother insisted I study the spells of our ancestors and yet I never paid attention in her lessons."
You throw a small piece of wood into the fire.
"She taught me many spells, powerful spells which could have prevented all of this. And yet I never even tried to remember them. If I had then –" you ball your hands into fists, "– if I had then perhaps we could have fled weeks ago and you would have never had to suffer."
Yoongi studies you. Regret. He thought that he would never see such an emotion on your face.
"I'm such a pitiful woman."
"No you’re not."
"You’re not pitiful just…spoiled.“
He makes you laugh, truly and honestly laugh. It confuses Yoongi, who had never seen you so happy before.
“Oh Sire”, you say and chuckle, “you know? There was a time when I couldn’t stand your bluntness, but I must say you are truly a cheer to talk to.”
You give him a smile. Yoongi looks at your lips and knits his brows, looking away for your reaction is utterly confusing him.
“I want to be different from now on. I want to study the spells of our ancestors and I want to use them to restore our home and to heal and nurture and be good”, you say and smile, “and I want you to teach me the arts of fighting.”
Your eyes meet. Yoongi seems flabbergasted.
“Can you do that for me Sire?”
He blinks rapidly, “yes Your Highness I-“, he clears his throat, “-of course I can teach you.”
You give him another smile, it makes him look away in confusion again.
“Thank you, Sire.”
He picks up a piece of wood and throws it into the flames.
“Call me Yoongi, Your Highness.”
“Fine, if you call me by my name as well.”
“I – “, he sneaks a glance your way.
He stands up all of a sudden.
“Where are you going?” you ask him.
“I’m getting new water”, he murmurs and storms out of the shed with the bucket in his hands.
“Why did he seem so flustered?” you whisper under your breath.
Yoongi returns when the rabbits have long finished cooking. You waited with eating, lifting your head once he finally returns.
“Finally you are back, the rabbits have finished cooking”, you tell him.
“Mhm”, he hums, setting the filled water bucket down between you and him.
He sits down with his legs crossed, picking up his rabbit. He begins eating it in silence, staring into the flames.
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
“No”, he says.
You chuckle, “fine, let’s eat in silence.”
Once you finished your meals and discarded the bones in the flames, Yoongi takes his nightgown and rolls it up. He lies down on his back close to the fire, resting his hands on his stomach. He keeps his eyes open, staring at the roof with his lips pressed into a thin line.
You do the same. Roll up your nightgown and lie down on the ground. You chose the spot between the fire and Yoongi, resting on your side to look at him.
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way.
“What?” he asks nervously.
“Nothing, you just have rabbit on your cheek”, you say and reach out to clean it off the corner of his lips.
He furrows his brows and moves his head away. He feels so peculiar in his chest. Your fingers aren’t supposed to be able to touch him so tenderly.
“Sleep Your Highness”, he presses out, closing his eyes.
“Are we going to walk again tomorrow?”
You shiver, pulling the fur over your shoulders.
“I miss our home”, you say, making Yoongi clench his jaw.
“I can’t stand the cold, it hurts.”
“Neither can I”, Yoongi answers you and tries to close his tunic as best as possible.
“Do you think that we will still have to walk for long?”
“Yes, the sun sets eight hours after rising. We are further north than I had thought.”
“How long does the sun take to set at home?”
Yoongi scoffs and laughs quietly, “you are asking me questions.”
“Well, do you know the answer?”
“Well that explains why it is always so warm”, you murmur, reaching out to touch his arm.
He tenses up under your touch.
“Can we hold each other again for warmth?” you ask quietly and watch his chest rise and sink in a deep breath.
“If you insist.”
You hum then scoot closer to drape your arm across his stomach. You grunt and wiggle, trying to find a comfortable resting place for your head. Yoongi sighs in defeat.
“Raise your head.”
You follow. Yoongi places his arm under your head, closing it around you to press you closer.
Now you are resting on his shoulder, lips inches away from his neck and heart racing in your chest.
“Sleep well”, he whispers and closes his eyes.
“You too”, you breathe, letting your eyes flutter closed.
Birds are chirping and in the distance the river gurgles. The air smells clean, carrying a faint hint of the fading embers of the once bright fire of last night. It is bright behind your eyelids, making the otherwise blackness seem glowing red. You are alone on the ground for your arms are holding nothing and your stomach is terribly cold.
Then you finally open your eyes, rolling onto your back with a soft sigh.
“Oh I truly miss my bed”, you groan, stretching your torso in an attempt to get rid of the ache in your lower back.
You sit up.
Yoongi isn’t here, as a matter of fact, he even left the shed door open.
“Oh dear, hopefully he didn’t run off without me.”
He didn’t run off. He is sitting by the riverbed, legs crossed and with the sunlight warming his limbs. He was currently trying to tie his hair out of his face, seemingly struggling with it.
“Good morning Sire”, you announce yourself.
He looks over his shoulder, “good morning Your Highness”, he murmurs and returns to his task of doing his hair.
"Let me help", you offer.
He shakes his head.
You sit next to him, crossing your legs. Then you turn your head to watch him. He is trying again, lips curled into a concentrated pout and long fingers struggling with picking up his hair.
"I slept well tonight", you say.
"Good, you need the strength", he answers you, grunting when his hair falls out of his fingers once again.
"I also really enjoyed rabbit. I must say it is wonderful to eat again."
"I think so too”, his hair falls again, “oh heavens! Will you stay!?"
You laugh, earning yourself an annoyed glare from him. He looks ridiculous with half his hair in a slanted bun and the other half hanging into his face.
"Please just let me help, I can’t have you walking around looking as if you fought a Morgul by yourself", you say in a chuckle, closing the distance between you and him.
"Do you even know how to do that?" he asks.
"Yes of course I do. I am the eldest sister. Do you have any idea how often my siblings come into my room to ask for their hair to be tied? So let me help."
He grinds his teeth and huffs out air. He hands you the piece of fabric in defeat.
"I spent too many days braiding and brushing and tying up hair that I could work as a hairdresser if I wanted to."
Yoongi chuckles quietly. It makes you smile as well.
You first open his attempt at a bun. You shake out his hair, thinking to yourself that it looks like strings of gold in the morning sun.
Yoongi is twisting the fabric of his pants. The touch makes him shiver. It isn’t his place to shiver.
"Now, the secret to a good bun is a good comb, but we can’t ask for luxury here", you say and begin combing your fingers through his hair, "my fingers will have to suffice."
You pick up the strands of hair which are still hanging into his face. Yoongi is fighting against the urge to close his eyes for your fingertips felt like heaven as they danced across his forehead.
“Perfect. Now I have all of your hair in a tight hold”, you say, “now our traditional ways would ask for a pin to twist your hair around, however we don’t – “
Yoongi raises a stick, “could that work?”
You chuckle, “I can work with that. Oh Yoongi, this is going to be a peculiar hairstyle”, you say, twisting his long hair around the stick in the traditional ways of your people.
Yoongi grinds his teeth, eyelids fluttering. The twist makes his scalp tingle. He shouldn’t feel such reactions.
“Now, let’s see if the stick can hold your hair”, you say and let go, “it does! How wonderful!” you exclaim.
You place your hands on his shoulders, digging your thumbs into his tense shoulders.
Yoongi forces down a sigh, fighting against the urge to roll his shoulders into your touch.
“We are done”, you let him know, stroking your hands down his arms. His muscles follow your touch, tensing and relaxing. You watch the vein in his neck twitch as his heart skips a beat. Your lips tingle in funny ways, almost as if they wanted to feel the twitch.
You touch his elbows, squeezing them softly.
“You look alluring with your hair like this”, you whisper.
Yoongi’s head snaps around, his eyes round and widened and his lips parted in shock. You look at them for only a second before nervousness makes your heart flutter unbearably.
“Ha”, you laugh breathily, pulling your hands away, “please forgive me.”
Your gazes meet in a second of braveness before breaking again.
“Ha”, he lets out, lowering his head, “we should keep moving, we can’t afford staying at a place too long. It’ll alarm people.”
“Of course, we should move”, you murmur, staring at your fingers in disbelief. You touched him.
You walk a lot this day, following the river until crossing it over a wooden bridge and following the sun instead. You were further up north than Yoongi had initially thought so he told you. That was the only conversation you and him had on your long journey for your mind was racing with something else instead, repeating the imagery of his golden hair between your fingers over and over again.
You touched him this morning and told him that he looked beautiful. You feel as if you were losing your mind, for whenever you looked at him all you wanted to do was stare at him a little longer. Perhaps you spent too much time with him as your only companion. Perhaps you were losing your mind and all the time spent with him made your brain develop a magical attraction to him.
Yoongi disappeared inside a cave ten minutes ago, leaving with a quiet “I will make sure it is safe, stay here Your Highness”.
You were waiting outside for a while, shivering in the cold and watching the winds swirl over the lands. Then you saw a squirrel, red bushy fur and big round eyes. It was breaking some nuts on the rocks just a few steps from you. You decided to follow it down the path you and Yoongi had walked up before. The knife is clasped tightly between your fingers, the tip of your tongue is sticking out the corner of your mouth in concentration. The squirrel is going to be yours tonight, you will show Yoongi just how well you can hunt too. You are so concentrated on hunting that Yoongi’s worried voice is like a whisper in your ear.
Just a few more steps and dinner will be yours.
You give him no reaction, tiptoeing closer and closer to the stone the squirrel is currently sitting on.
“Don’t go there!”
Almost there. It can’t escape now.
Yoongi tugs you back roughly, eliciting a surprised squeak from you. The squirrel jumps away.
“No!” you exclaim, whipping around, “you scared it away.”
“And you are inches away from dropping to your death”, he throws back.
Only now you notice just how tightly he is holding you and the beginning of the steep cliff under the tips of your toes. You shiver, taking a step back.
“How did I not notice that?” you gasp.
“I’m asking myself that too. Let’s go, the cave is safe for the night.”
He tugs at your arm, stomping up the path with his brows furrowed.
“You must think I am a complete fool”, you say, stumbling after him.
He sends you a look over his shoulder. You trip, stumble, catch yourself with the help of Yoongi.
“I was catching dinner.”
“Tzt”, he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You have to stop belittling me. I did your hair this morning”, you complain loudly, slipping on a rock.
Yoongi whips around and tugs you back up. His eyes are burning in anger. You ignore it, straightening your back as if nothing ever happened.
“So I am better than you at something too. Without me your hair would still look like a mess”, you say, reaching up to poke your finger into his bun.
Yoongi blinks rapidly and moves his head away.
“Stop doing that”, he says.
“Touch me like that.”
Your eyes flit to his lips. Yoongi can watch it happen, wetting his lips in response.
“Ha”, you let out, eyes flitting to the side, “I don’t know what you mean.”
He scoffs and turns his back to you.
The fire is burning an hour later, warming your frozen limbs and illuminating the little cave. Yoongi caught two elkbirds. They are big birds with purple feathers and an orange peak. They looked beautiful. Their screams however sounded like songs of Morguls, bone shattering and it can make even the bravest warrior tremble in fear. Their flesh also tasted surprisingly similar to chicken, however one always says that about foreign meat so it was to one to decide how much truth they want to see in such a statement. It nourished your starved body however and that was all that was of importance to you tonight.
You stretch out your arms, holding your hands above the flames.
“Oh how I have grown to love the presence of fires”, you say.
Yoongi nods his head, wrapping his fur around his torso tighter.
You chuckle, “I never thought that I would hear myself say something like that”, you laugh, “or that I would eat a elkbird for that matter.”
You stretch out your legs, wiggling your toes to warm even the most hidden parts of your feet. You can hear the storm outside. It was singing, howling in the valley below and carrying the snow of the high mountain peaks with it. You know that it is because you can watch it cover the ground outside your cave. It was significantly warmer in the cave, yet nothing can truly beat the comfort of your castle walls when the fireplaces were crackling calmingly and your body was submerged in a nice smelling bath.
"Do you know what I'm going to do first once I'm home again?"
"I'm going to take a long and hot bath. And I want it to smell like vanilla. And I want to eat Harken Cake and drink warm apple juice while I bathe", you say and sigh in blissful memory.
"Mhm, that sounds nice", Yoongi agrees.
"What are you going to do first?"
"Make sure the castle is safe."
"No not - gosh Sire I meant after our duties are done", you say and chuckle, "what are you going to do once everything is safe again?"
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way and shrugs his shoulders.
"Come now, you must have something you want to do."
"Sleep. I want to sleep in the comfort of my bed again with five blankets and a soft pillow under my head", he answers you and shifts restlessly, "and maybe I want to eat Harken Cake too and drink warm apple juice."
"Mhm that sounds nice. Oh Sire, I truly miss home."
"I know Your Highness. Me too."
You turn so your back would be facing the fire. You shiver at first, feeling goosebumps run along your spine and arms. The change in temperature feels so nice on your skin. You can look at Yoongi in this position. His naked feet are buried in the fur you placed on the ground, his hands are folded, rubbing each other for warmth and his head is lowered slightly, eyes half-lidded as well. A single strand of hair had fallen out his bun, hanging into his face. It ends right where his eyebrow arches the highest.
“Do think that Morrok’s men are looking for us?” you ask him.
“I can’t say, perhaps. We killed two of their men and you’re the princess. They lost precious merchandise.”
“They are not going to find us, are they?”
He shakes his head.
You study his face. The flames cast dark shadows on his features, illuminating the rest in warmth.
“You truly aren’t a man of many words are you?”
"I don't have much to say or tell."
"Oh come now Sire, now you are being mean to yourself. I'm sure you have many stories to tell."
Yoongi raises his head, looking into your eyes with a sort of bafflement. He squeezes his own hands and lets out a breathy scoff, turning his head away.
"Tell me something, Sire."
He exhales through his nose and shakes his head.
"Come, anything you want to tell."
He sneaks a glance at you, bouncing his knee up and down twice.
"I enjoy music", he says quietly, clenching his jaw in embarrassment afterwards.
"Music? Oh that’s nice. I enjoy it too. Do you have a favourite kind of music?"
"No. I don’t know…" he looks at you again for only a second then he looks away, "…I like songs which tell a story."
"So the ones with poems in their singing?"
He nods his head, "or with...emotion in their melodies."
You find yourself smiling. That is something you truly hadn’t expected from him, yet it feels so perfectly fitting for him now that you know.
"That's lovely, Sire. I shall hold a festival of song and dance then once we are home."
He furrows his brows in confusion.
"It will be my tribute to you. For keeping me safe and also for being such good company in those endless weeks."
He flusters, shifting on the spot and touching the side of his neck. You know that he is not going to answer you. He seems too overwhelmed for that. So you turn to warm your stomach and face, closing your eyes in contentment.
“Are you good at keeping secrets, Sire?”
He hesitates at first. You look at him over your shoulder.
“Yes", he finally says.
“Well then I want to tell you something because I trust you.”
Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eyes.
“I didn’t hurt you because you helped my traitorous husband, I hurt you because I was jealous of you.”
He laughs dryly. You turn and send him a glare.
“Don’t laugh, I am telling the truth.”
He stops laughing, looking at you with his face contorted in bafflement.
“Why would you be jealous of me?”
“Because my husband didn’t like what I have between my legs, but instead he liked what you have.”
Yoongi furrows his brows in confusion. You sigh loudly and turn back to the flames.
“I was never intimate with him because he couldn’t harden no matter how hard I tried. Later, I found him hiding behind the door to watch you train. He was touching himself.”
Yoongi widens his eyes and parts his lips.
“I hated you for it and I also felt ashamed”, you lower your eyes, “so I told everybody that I hurt you because you helped my husband that one time. When in reality I hurt you because I wanted revenge because you had what I couldn’t have.”
You sigh and laugh painfully.
“Perhaps that is also another reason why I called you ugly. I felt less ugly myself when I did it.”
Yoongi scoffs and lowers his head.
“Now tell me Sire, how often did you please him?”
“What?” he stares at you in shock.
You turn. There was no anger on your face, no jealousy or distaste. Just honest interest and perhaps childish hopefulness.
“You can be honest with me. Was it every night?”
Yoongi laughs dryly. He looks to the side, outlining the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
“I never pleased him, the only times I interacted with him was when I helped him up and later when I killed him.”
You let out a breath of relief and laugh.
“That feels good to hear. At least my marriage wasn’t as broken as I thought it was.”
Yoongi furrows his brows and grinds his teeth. He watches you throw a little rock into the flames and lower your eyes in sadness afterwards. Perhaps it was the long time he spent with you, but he didn’t like seeing you sad. Not anymore at least. He wants to see you smile. Perhaps he truly was losing his mind.
So he scoots closer to you, so close in fact that the fabrics of your clothes were touching. He drapes his fur across your shoulders, making you lean into him.
“It wasn’t your fault”, he says.
You turn to look at him. He seems so tall in this position. You resting on the ground between his legs and him sitting on a log. You didn’t mind that he towered over you for the comfort in his gaze gave you the feeling that you and him were equal.
“It wasn’t your fault that your husband liked the other kind of private parts. And it doesn’t mean that you are ugly.”
You blink rapidly and chuckle nervously. You turn away, staring into the flames with your heart racing in your chest.
"Do you think I’m beautiful?" you ask him quietly, waiting for his answer with bated breath.
Yoongi inhales through his nose and exhales loudly.
"Yes", he whispers so quietly you almost missed it.
You turn, gazing up at him with sparkling eyes. He glances at you, looking up at the ceiling a moment later.
“You are going to fluster me”, you confess in a whisper.
He exhales in a nervous laugh and lowers his head. You study his features, finding magic in the way his nose curved. You draw closer until your arm touched his leg and he tenses up in nervousness.
“Are you like my husband too?” you ask him.
He shakes his head.
“But I never saw you with a woman. Most of my warriors found love with my servants. Why didn’t you?”
“Because they are fools. Love will blind one to one’s duties. If fewer of my men had their minds twisted by a woman then we could have protected the castle, but instead of following their duties they ran to rescue their lovers.”
“And you blame it on the magic of women instead of the human nature of wanting to protect the ones we love? Weren’t you also running to protect my mother?”
“Yes but I…” he falters, “…I did that because it was my duty.”
“Did you love my mother?”
He shakes his head, “not like my men loved their women.”
“But you loved her in a different way.”
“She saved me from death, I owed her.”
“Like a son owes his mother his life?”
“My mother was a great woman. Truly, her death carved a big hole into my chest.”
“It plaques me too”, he confesses in a whisper.
You rest your head against his knee, making him tense up even more. Perhaps it was the dim light of the fire, perhaps it was the privacy of the cave or perhaps it was your body’s desire to feel another’s skin, but you placed your hand on his other knee and danced your thumb over it softly.
“Do you sometimes wish to love like a man loves a woman?”
“Your Highness”, he begins and sighs, “you shouldn’t ask me that question”, he says, moving his knee away.
You sit up, resting on your knees. You are facing him completely, making him visibly scoot back.
“You don’t want this”, he says and points at his face, “it doesn’t belong side by side with a princess.”
“What makes you think that I was asking this question in my own interest?” you ask, slightly flustered.
Yoongi looks into your eyes, bewildered as well.
“Why did you touch me then?”
“I truly don’t know. Perhaps I lost my mind.”
“Perhaps you did.”
You laugh breathlessly. Yoongi’s eyes race between yours, flitting to your lips ever so often.
He tenses up when you touch his knee again, freezing up more when you straighten up until you are face to face with him.
“Perhaps”, you begin, allowing your hand to slip to the beginning of his inner thigh, “perhaps I truly lost my mind. I think I like you, Sire.”
He lets out a loud laugh, moving his leg away.
“You confuse me”, he presses out.
“Yes!” you exclaim and nod your head, “I confuse myself for I swore to never like you and yet here I am, enjoying your presence and seeking your closeness.”
Yoongi’s eyes race between yours.
“And I understand now why my husband liked you”, you say and laugh, “you see Sire? I am losing my mind.”
Yoongi turns his head away, fumbling with his fingers.
“Your husband was a fool.”
“Yes, he was”, you agree, leaning closer to brush your lips over his neck.
Yoongi raises his shoulder to his ear and flinches away. Your gazes meet in shock.
“Your Highness, did you drink?”
You shake your head, “how?”
“Then stop that. All this walking is making you delusional, you won’t want this once we are home again.”
You lean closer and place a kiss on his scar, right on top of his cheek. You pull back, holding your breath. And while you were holding your breath, Yoongi releases it shakily, eyes looking everywhere but your face.
You kiss it again and again and again until you kissed it from its beginning on Yoongi’s forehead all the way over his eyelid and down to its end on his cheek.
You pull back after stubbing it with the tip of your nose. Your fingers are hooked behind his neck, your eyes race between his. You have never felt your heart race that much before
“Stop that", he chokes out, closing his fingers around your wrists to pull your hands away.
You fight his hold, reaching for his face again. He moves away, pulling your hands from his face.
"Why are you doing this?" he asks, eyes filled with nervous anger.
You kiss the corner of his lips, resting your fingers on his cheeks. He turns his head in your direction for a quick second, gazing at your lips with his eyes half-lidded. Another kiss. It flusters him, making him turn away again.
“Truly, you don’t want this. I'm not a good lover, my hands are rough from fighting and my f-face and body are covered in scars. I'm too ugly for you."
"No you’re not Sire."
"Ha", he lowers his eyes, "yes I am. The court would agree."
"No. You –“
You silence him with a kiss, short and hesitant. He pulls away in an instance, laughing nervously. You give him a smile and draw closer, cupping his cheek and pulling his waist snuck against yours with a strong arm.
"Ha", he lets out, squirming in your hold and looking at where your body touches his.
You lower your head, claiming his lips in a kiss again. It forces him to lift his head and to close his eyes for you were not intending to stop. You kiss him and kiss him and kiss him some more, sucking on his lower lip until he can’t help but sigh and touch your face. He cups your cheeks with such tenderness that one could believe he was scared to break you. His shoulders are raised to his ears, his legs restless as he squirms in your hold. And still his lips danced with yours, using your sighs and the crackling of the fire as their melodies.
Perhaps you truly had lost your mind for when he tried to pull away you chased him and kissed him deeper until the tip of your tongue was outlining his lips.
Perhaps you truly had lost your mind for when his lips parted and his tongue met yours in the middle, a sound of pleasure slipped past your lips and your fingers reached up to open his hair.
It falls in soft waves, framing his face and twisting between your fingers as you run them through his locks. He shudders at the sensation.
Perhaps you truly lost your mind for when he did the same to you and opened your hair to hold it between his fingers, it drove you on top of his lap until your stomach was pressed against his and you felt his chest trembling in a deep sigh.
Perhaps however you didn’t lose your mind and experiencing the feeling of finally being kissed back made you so addicted to the sensation that you became greedy. And perhaps it made you just that greedier because it was Yoongi you were kissing and he truly had the best lips to kiss.
Yoongi runs his fingers down your spine, dancing them up your back in soft swirls. He cups your face, fingers resting on the sides of your neck. They felt warm on your skin, carrying a sheer layer of sweat on the tips. You know that he was nervous. You were nervous too, you noticed it in the way your fingertips trembled as you ran them along his collarbones and shoulders.
You don’t like Yoongi. You told that to all your friends, your family and you were sure your servants knew as well. You thought it to be true and that it would always stay true, but now as if magic changed your heart you like him. It was scaring you so much that your stomach twisted when he showed the first indicator of enjoyment in the form of a trembling mewl against your lips. Perhaps however your stomach also twisted because you never heard such a sound before and it made you feel warm between your legs.
You break the kiss, resting your forehead against that of Yoongi. You keep your eyes closed, so does Yoongi. His shaking breath is tickling your cheek, intermingling with yours. You touch his cheek, running your thumb over his scar softly. It makes him sigh and his fingers twitch in a gentle grasp.
“I feel there is no going back from here”, you whisper.
“No, there isn’t”, he answers you, tilting his head up to run his lips along your cheek until you turn to claim them in a kiss instead.
He trembles in surprise, pressing his legs together. The movement makes you scoot up his lap and press your core against his crotch.
You and him break the kiss at the same time, both gasping in shock because of what you found.
“Is that how this feels?” you ask, sneaking a glance down his body.
“So it seems”, he murmurs, hiding it behind his big hand.
“Why are you hiding it?”
Your eyes meet.
“Because you are married and my princess.”
You shake your head, “I’m not married anymore, you made sure that I was free of that burden.”
You touch his chest.
“It is so exciting to be the reason a man hardens”, you confess and run your hands down his stomach, “can you show it to me?"
With a nervous sigh slipping past his lips he removes his hand, revealing the prominent dent in his pants to your eyes.
"That looks so exciting", you whisper, rolling your hips over his thigh at the view, "ah, it makes me feel so warm between my legs."
Yoongi swallows heavily, "I-I can feel that."
You look up, cupping his face between your hands.
"Can you show me how it feels to be intimate, Sire?”
Yoongi blinks rapidly. He shakes his head, “I, I don’t know anything about that.”
“Oh?” you blink vigorously.
He lowers his eyes.
“Well, then do you want to find out about it together?”
Yoongi falters in his answer. You speed up his decision by placing your pointer finger on the swell in his pants and stroking it softly. He bites down on his lower lip, inhaling loudly through his nose and furrowing his brows.
“Your Highness, we’re not of the same rank”, he chokes out, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. His hand is fighting your touch and yet at the same time it is pulling you closer. He has duties to fulfil and yet deep down his desire to follow them was lost the moment you kissed his neck.
“I don’t care, that is the great thing about being the princess, I can choose who I want to court.”
“And you choose me?”
“Because I like you, Sire.”
Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He releases it in a surprised grunt as he feels your lips against his neck all of a sudden. You are holding his hair away, playing with it mindlessly as your lips continue their endless dance. You can feel his vein twitch as his heart skips a beat and for the first time tonight you are making a sound as well. It feels more exciting than you had imagined it to feel.
"Please Sire, I want to experience it with you", you plead, cupping his hardened length and rubbing it slowly.
He grunts and trembles, big hands landing on your hips. He stands up with you then, carrying you to the fire to place you on top of the fur. You look at him. His golden hair is hanging into his face, falling on each side of your head and shielding you from everything except his features.
You reach up and trace his scar again. He closes his eyes and parts his lips in a shaky exhale.
Yoongi remembers many occasions where you touched his scar and yet he never felt such comfort from it as he does tonight. There was no disgust in your touch, no anger or coldness. Just tenderness and a certain awe, which left his chest feeling light. It also made it tingle as if fire fairies were fluttering inside of it.
He leans down and places a kiss on your neck in the same way you kissed his’. You shiver, picking up a big bundle of his hair. It tickles your skin, following Yoongi’s movements as he kisses along your neck to reach the other side.
You sigh his name and close your eyes, parting your legs for your middle burned unbearably. It allows his body to draw closer and for his hips to rest against yours. You can feel how hard he was, it rubs against your core and soaks your pants in your wetness.
Kissing your neck comes so natural to him. He never did what his fellow soldiers did with their women. He didn’t even read about it, let alone talk about it to other people and yet in this moment he felt that kissing your neck was the only right thing to do. Not only for you, but also for him. Oh how many times he fantasized about wrapping his fingers around your neck and squeezing until you finally drew your last breath. Oh how many times he wished for you to slip on the stairs and break it in your fall. Those desires sound like those of a cruel madman in his mind now. He doesn’t want to destroy such a delicate neck anymore, not when he can worship it in kisses instead.
“Oh”, you let out and try to breathe only to end up choking on your air and having to laugh.
Yoongi lifts his head, looking at you in confusion.
“You made me choke on my own air”, you confess and laugh, “oh this feels so good. Do it again."
Yoongi licks over his lips and lowers himself again. He may know nothing about the intimacies between man and woman, but he knows that kissing your neck made you shiver beneath him. He knows that this was a good sign and so he continues what he is good at in fear that if he did something new you wouldn’t enjoy it.
You abandon his hair to touch his arms instead. They are tense in the position, holding up his body with little struggle. You run them along the ridges of his muscles until you abandon them for the sake of feeling his torso instead. First his neck, you run your fingers along the soft curve of where his neck meets his shoulders then dance them to the nape of it to play with the fine hair on it. For only a second you allowed your fingers to linger then it was already time for them to explore a new inch of his body. The movement made the strings of his tunic open at the front, revealing his heated chest to your fingertips.
He squirms above you, losing his way and kissing your collarbones instead of your neck. You sigh, slipping your hand into his tunic to caress his pecs. They were sculpted from the heavy fighting he had to do in his years as your warrior for the Glass Mountains with its Ruby Valleys and Emerald Lakes were always a conflict ridden country. It became worse with the arrival of Morrok the madman and Yoongi and his warriors spent many months away from the castle, ridding the land of his followers and keeping the peace for as best as possible.
You hope – as you run your fingers along every single scar – that you have enough magic in your fingertips to heal the memories they bear with them. After weeks and weeks of hunger, thirst and frozen limbs you know exactly the pains and discomforts he must have endured on his journeys.
You brush your fingers over his nipple, making him snap up in a shudder of his body and a shaky gasp. His eyes are widened, blinking rapidly. Your fingers rest frozen on his chest, allowing your warmth to soak even the deepest parts of his body.
“What?” you ask him.
“What did you just do?”
You repeat what you had done, watching how it makes his lips part in a silent moan. They close again a second later, the tip of his tongue coming out to wet them. Oh how rosy his lips are and how pretty they glisten in the shine of the fire.
You do it again. Feeling his nipple pebble and his chest rumble in a barely there moan. He exhales shakily, corners of his mouth curling upwards.
“What?” you stress, “why are you reacting like that?”
Yoongi moves without words. He opens the strings of your tunic and slips his hand inside. Your eyes widen. On the ceiling of the cave the flames make sceneries of dancing shadows appear and yet all you can truly take in is Yoongi slipping the tunic to the side, cupping your breast and then wrapping his lips around your nipple.
“Sire!” you gasp, fighting for air with your lips opening and closing repeatedly.
Such warmth. It seeps into your skin until it reaches your heart. You tremble as Yoongi flicks his tongue over your swollen pebble just this moment. You laugh and tug on his hair. He releases you with a quiet bop of his lips, flitting his eyes up in a silent question as to why you stopped him.
The truth was that the sensation scared you. It felt too good and you feared that if he continued you would lose control over your body.
“Did I go too far?” he asks with his voice slightly raspy in arousal.
You nod your head, “I fear that if you continue I might lose control over my body. I heard that it will subside again once you reach your high, but what if I am different and I will never be normal again?”
Yoongi scoffs, flustering you.
“Why are you laughing? What if you will never be normal either?”
“I stopped being normal the moment you kissed my neck, Your Highness, I’m not scared of losing myself.”
You lower your eyes, “now you are making me seem like such a coward.”
He chuckles softly, lowering his head to your chest. He darts his tongue out and flicks it over your nipple.
“Oh”, you gasp, widening your eyes for only a second before closing them. One more flick of his tongue and you let go of his hair to hold his shoulders instead. Perhaps you need to be braver. You survived being beaten and tied up in the cold, you survived having to walk for days without water or food let alone sleep. You will survive the unbearable heat of Yoongi’s touch as well, including all the consequences it bears.
Yoongi kisses the skin next to your nipple then follows the path his pointer finger paints until he is on your neck again. You shiver, hugging him closer so you could feel his naked chest press against your exposed breasts. You didn’t even know that another person’s skin can feel so good against your own.
“Yoongi”, you sigh.
“Yes, Your Highness?” Yoongi whispers, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“I want to know how it feels to be breached.”
“Are you sure Your Highness?”
“Yes. Do you want to give me your innocence too?”
He looks into your eyes and then something happens to his face you thought would never happen to his face. The ivory of his cheeks turns the softest red. It spreads all across his nose as well.
“Yes, Your Highness”, he confesses, making your heart skip a beat in your chest.
So you and him undress messily, hiding under the fur not only to keep the cold out but also because it was too scary to share your state of complete nudity with each other.
Yoongi claims the spot between your legs, breathing heavily for his heart was almost giving up on him in excitement. While he never read about the intimacies between a man and a woman let alone talked to somebody about it, his mind still spent many hours imagining how it must feel like. And while a few weeks ago he never imagined to experience it with his princess, that image had changed ever since he snuck one fateful glance at your bared body as you bathed in the river.
Your eyes meet in a hesitant gaze.
“Are you just as excited as I am?” you ask him.
He nods his head.
“It will feel really good, don’t you think?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Come closer and breach me, Sire”, you stress, grasping his hips and rolling your own up to meet his middle.
He shivers at the sensation, bucking his hips forwards.
He stops, eyes widening in surprise. He slipped inside, only an inch, yet it is enough to make his back tense and his legs shake.
“More”, you sigh, forcing him deeper by wrapping your legs around him.
Yoongi grunts and buries his face in the crook of your neck. This is better than he imagined it to feel. This is so much better.
“It burns a little. Does it burn for you too?” you ask him slightly out of breath.
He shakes his head.
“How peculiar, it feels so peculiar.”
Yoongi is fighting with his air. He truly didn’t think it would feel so good.
“Try to move”, you order him.
He moves his hips back and forth, forcing a loud moan to slip past his lips. He falters and stops, face feeling as if it was on fire.
“I apologize”, he whispers.
Oh your stomach is clenching so much. You have never heard him make a sound before. Yoongi can take every beating and torture life throws at him without making a sound and yet when he is buried inside of you, lost in pleasure, he can’t stay quiet. It is so exhilarating to experience.
“No, don't apologize. Hearing your sound made me wetter. Do it again Sire”, you encourage him. You run your fingers to his bottom and squeeze it gently, “move inside of me and make a sound, it feels so good when you do.”
Yoongi rolls his hips into yours smoothly and moans. You arch your back and wrap your arms around him.
“Yes, oh that feels so good”, you sigh and reward him with a clench of your walls.
He continues his slow movements, pausing in between to catch his breath. His stomach is tensing in such peculiar ways and while it tempted him to keep moving to see where this tension would lead him, he was scared that if he did he would reach places where there is no coming back from. So he pauses in between to leave sloppy kisses on your neck and gain back control of his body.
“Yes that feels really good, oh Sire this is so nice”, you praise him in soft moans, running your fingers through his long hair. It tickles your shoulders and parts of your face and short strands of it were sticking to his forehead as it became terribly hot under the fur. And while you felt pearls of sweat run down your own chest, you still hugged him closer with your other arm, making him lower himself until your breasts were brushing against his chest.
The new closeness makes his lower stomach rub against your core. It sends the most peculiar yet magical sensation through your veins. Warmth. Such incredible warmth.
“Yoongi”, you gasp, curling your toes and pressing your heels into the back of his thighs.
“Yes, Your Highness?” he asks, panting heavily afterwards.
“This feels better than good”, you confess and squeak softly. Your fingers twitch on his back until your nails are digging into his skin.
He grunts and sucks on your neck desperately. He rolls his hips into you, feeling you grind against him. You are so wet around him and so warm too. And oh so tight, he didn’t know that he could be squeezed that much.
You pull him closer, burying your fingers in his hair. Your lips are pressed against his shoulder, your legs shaking uncontrollably.
“Oh my s-stomach is tensing”, you pause to gasp for air, “Sire, Sire I’m close.”
“Me too Your Highness”, he answers you and moans against the shell of your ear. It sends shivers all the way down to your toes. The shivers lingered in your middle for a while, making you squeeze around him.
Yoongi grunts and reaches for your hand. He presses it into the fur and squeezes it tightly.
“Don’t tense that much”, he chokes out, grinding his teeth.
“I, I can’t help – “, a gasp for air, “– help it.”
You squeeze his hand, Yoongi answers you by squeezing it as well. So tightly in fact that you fear he might break something.
“Your Highness, please relax”, he begs desperately.
“I…can’t…it’s…so…good”, you sigh and let your mouth fall open. A moan ripples through you then you grow silent as the tension on your stomach breaks in a second, leaving you to tremble and burn like you had never done before.
Yoongi grunts painfully and falters, hiding his face in your shoulder. You are squeezing him too much, he is too sensitive.
“Your Highness”, he chokes out shakily, feeling his mind become blank and his vision turn black as his body releases all the tension in a series of uncontrollable spasms.
You take his release with your eyes rolled back and your eyelids fluttering, basking in the sensations. So that is how it feels like when a man desires your body so much that an orgasm shakes him. It feels so exhilarating that a single tear of bliss escapes the corner of your eye and runs down your cheek.
Yoongi whimpers and shakes one last time, forcing a trembling breath past his lips. The pressure on your hand stops as he finally relaxes, a pressure on your chest replaces it as he collapses on top of you.
You close your eyes and relax under the weight of his body. You feel so warm again. After weeks and weeks of painful cold, you finally feel truly warm again.
“This was magical”, you whisper.
“Yes”, he agrees and nuzzles his nose against your neck.
“You don’t regret it, do you?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Please Yoongi, call me by my name.”
Yoongi lifts his head. He cups your cheek.
“___, it feels strange to say out loud”, he whispers and smiles, showing you the shape of his teeth for the first time ever since you knew him.
@bts-fan-obsessed @anonymous2505 @jikooksgirl19 @lilmeowmeowyoongles @fan-ati--c @trusfatedk00kie @cravingforhotchocolate @seagulljk @kthblackgf @greezenini @pb-n-juju @issysor @callmejimmeo @aidam391 @fancycollectormoon @siadreams @submissive-bangtan @pandxthings @thisartemisnevermisses@thequeen-kat @jenjensworld @yjmim @cantchooseanamebye @yoongicenterofmyuniverse @seraphqueen123 @halesandy @illicitmuse @justatiredpotato @parkdiaries
telling their s/o they’re being too clingy
w/ kenma, osamu, and suna!
series masterlist here!
(a/n: ok so i got a couple requests for a second part of this prompt but i didn’t wanna post them separately so i compiled them here!!
there were different character requests so i’ll definitely keep that in mind for future reference :)) for this prompt, i wrote all of them in the timeskip if anyone needed clarification💞 anyways thank you guys so much for requesting; i hope you like it!
this is not my best work; i wrote this when i was really tired :( but i’ll try to make it up to y’all later hehe)
your boyfriend is pretty lazy himself honestly
he doesn’t like to go out and do stuff all that much
but at the same time he is pretty busy at home
most of the time he’s just gaming
even though he does most of his work at home, you don’t get to spend that much time with him
but today kenma was in an even worse mood than usual
he was irritated, tired, and felt like he was going out of his mind all day
but you hadn’t seen him at all today, so you’re not aware of this
you walk into his work room with some food (he hadn’t eaten all day) and sneak into his lap, pressed against him tightly, as you usually do
you talk about your day, rambling about random things and combing your hands through his hair, untangling the knots
you ask him if he has any laundry for you to clean, and he doesn’t respond
you poke at him
“kenma? babe? were you paying attention to—”
“fuck, y/n, can’t you just leave me alone for a day? i’m in a bad mood already, and i don’t need you smothering me. you always do this, y/n. i don’t need you to take care of me; i can do everything by myself.”
you hadn’t realized how annoyed your clinginess was
so you disentangle yourself, muttering an apology under your breath, and leave, closing the door behind you
the next day, kenma wakes up feeling a lot better than he did yesterday, despite having fallen asleep at his gaming desk.
for once, he’s actually hungry, since he refused your dinner last night. he feels a little bad about what he said to you, but you probably know that he didn’t mean it. sometimes he gets in these moods, and you know them better than anyone.
he gets up and goes to the kitchen to see what you’ve made for the both of you. surprisingly, you’re not in there, like you would usually be, and there’s no delicious aroma or evidence of use at all. maybe they left it in the fridge? he thinks. but the refrigerator is empty, too.
now that he thinks about it, the apartment is a little more out of shape than usual. some of his clothes lay wrinkled on chairs and his mangas are scattered where he left them, instead of in his work room where you always put them. strange, he thinks.
he sees you on the couch and brightens. he’s missed you, and he wants to ask you if you’d like to do something together today. it’s been so long since he’s been able to just be with you.
but when he approaches you, you just smile at him and get up, retreating into your room and closing the door. he stands there, confused.
he doesn’t understand why you’re acting so strange today.
but on your end..
his words from yesterday stung. you really loved to care for your boyfriend; it was one of your favorite ways to show him you loved him. but he didn’t see it that way, because he expressed that he felt smothered; that he could take care of himself. so you’ve decided to back off a little bit.
kenma is working in his room when he hears the door open. he sits, up, setting down his controller and waiting for you to settle on his lap like usual and cuddle him for a little while he plays. but instead, you creep in warily, like you don’t know if you’re allowed to be there. you see his eyes on you and freeze before slipping back out like you were never in there to begin with.
you’re already gone though, and now kenma’s actually concerned. he gets up and ventures out into the bedroom, where you’re huddled up on the bed. he sits down next to you and attempts to pull you in, which you refuse.
“baby, what’s wrong?” he whispers. “why are you being so distant today?”
there’s tears in your eyes, and you’re attempting to smile for him, but it just looks wobbly and wrong.
“isn’t that what you wanted?” you ask shakily. “y-you said i was smothering you, so i just thought—”
he cuts you off with a kiss, pulling you in sweetly and firmly, and you sigh.
“i’m sorry for lashing out at you last night,” he apologizes. “i didn’t mean anything i said to you, okay?”
you look up at him with teary eyes.
“i love the way you do things for me and tell me about your day and cuddle with me. i know i’m absolute shit at expressing it, but i really like it when you take care of me.”
he nuzzles your nose with his, pressing short and sweet kisses on your lips between sentences.
“so what you’re saying is.. cuddles?” you ask, hopeful. he stares at you, golden eyes half-lidded contentedly.
“whatever you want.”
you love everything about your relationship with miya osamu
the dates, the food (oh my GOD the food), the everything
but more than anything, you LOVE cuddling with him
he’s always warm and soft and snuggly
but yesterday, you and osamu got in a fight
you argued that he was spending so much time managing the restaurant that he was forgetting about you
he thought you were being absolutely ridiculous
“y/n, you’re overreacting. stop being over dramatic.”
“over dramatic? is that what this is? okay, sorry for wanting to have a moment alone with my fucking boyfriend!”
“it’s not my fault that you’re so fucking clingy?! don’t put this on ME. always forcing your dumb affection on me when it’s CLEAR that i don’t want you to!”
even after the both of you apologized and called it quits, you thought about it all night
maybe he was right
you went to bed and drifted into a fitful sleep
today is osamu’s day off, and he’s looking forward to having a day to relax with you.
after the fight the two of you had, he’s just happy to have the whole day to make up and spend some time together.
when he wakes up with you next to him, he nudges at you affectionately. you’re already half awake, and you smile back at him. he waits for you to take the cue and snuggle into his side like usual, so that the two of you can continue resting together, but you turn around on your side. he frowns.
later in the day, you’re watching a movie, and he tugs at your sweatshirt, hoping you’ll settle into his lap and give him some kisses. instead, you sit next to him, a little bit of space between you, and don’t look at him again.
then, the both of you are making dinner, and he comes up behind you, to which you dodge him skillfully. he almost whines; desperate for some affection. you’re not giving him anything today, and he’s getting touch-starved.
“baby, is something wrong?” you ask at his frown.
he shakes his head and continues chopping vegetables.
the two of you have gotten ready for bed and are laying under the covers when he crawls over to you and lays his arm over your torso. you push him off gently, only for him to put it on you again. you sigh.
“why won’t you let me cuddle you today?”
honestly, you want nothing more than for him to cuddle you all day, holding you in his arms. but clearly it’s annoying, and you’d like to avoid fights like the one you had last night at all costs.
“last night.. you mentioned that i force my affection on you. and i realized that you were right. and i’m just working on it, okay?” you look away.
osamu’s heart sinks. you’re still on this? he thought he’d made it clear that he truly didn’t mean anything he said during the fight, but he realizes that insecurities don’t just go away.
“baby..” he whispers, pulling you into his lap. you won’t look at him. “look at me.” you shake your head, so he brings your chin up with his hand.
“you don’t ‘force’ your affection on me, okay? i love how affectionate you are with me. i like that you can feel safe in my arms and that you like being close to me all the time. it’s the way you express your love for me, and i think it’s perfect.”
tears well up in your eyes, so you bury your face in his chest to hide it.
“i love you so much, ‘samu,” you whisper, sniffling.
he smiles softly down at you, and pulls you in even closer, flush against him.
“and i love you.”
suna is a very lowkey, chill person
this applies to basically everything in his life
but when he gets angry it’s very easy for him to lash out
yesterday, suna had a terrible day
he was just getting irritated by everyone and while he wanted to come home and rest, he didn’t want to deal with your questions
but you didn’t know about how his day went, so you asked him questions anyway, hoping to find out how he was feeling and if he needed anything
but his annoyance was growing, and you weren’t picking up on it
you laid a hand on his arm, and that’s when he finally lost it
he shoved your hand away, irritated
“can’t you just leave me alone? i don’t want to talk to you right now, and you being clingy isn’t helping.”
you reeled back, stung, but decided you’d leave him alone
you slept on the couch, afraid to upset him even more
suna wakes up to the sun filtering through the blinds, and slides a hand over to your side of the bed, expecting to find you lying next to him, but comes up empty. he frowns, missing your warmth.
he gets up and moves to the living room, finding you lying on the couch. he nudges you gently to wake you up.
“good morning, baby,” he whispers against your lips, and you don’t even smile at that, just grabbing your blanket and relocating to the bedroom. he’s confused by your mood, and follows you back into the bedroom.
“you wanna cuddle?” he offers, slipping into the bed next to you, only for you to hmph petulantly, rolling over on your side, away from him.
that’s weird, suna thinks. y/n almost never refuses my cuddles.
you do wake up later, seeing rintarou in the kitchen, and take out a snack from the pantry, ignoring his own offers to make you food.
it’s not that you’re mad at him, because you’re really not, but you’re still a little hurt at how he treated you last night. you know he was just having a bad day, but now you don’t want to receive his affection, scared to come off as annoying again.
“baby, are you mad at me?” he asks when the two of you are in bed. you shake your head, eyes still glued to your book.
rintarou tries again to cuddle you, but you push him away again. he sighs, unsure why you’re acting this way. he takes your book and closes it, inciting a reaction from you.
“hey, you didn’t even bookmark—”
you stop short at seeing his gaze locked on you and shrink back.
“then why aren’t you being affectionate with me?”
you sigh, not wanting to get into this now.
you do anyway.
“you called me annoying, rin. excuse me for not wanting to be affectionate when apparently that behavior is irritating,” you mumble.
suna stops short. annoying? how could you have ever been— oh.
suna had completely forgotten about last night. he never apologized for lashing out at you.
ignoring your protests, rintarou pulls you into his chest and noses at your hair.
“‘m sorry,” he mutters into your hair, breathing you in and basking in your warmth. you still, and he pulls you close. “i’m sorry for calling you those things, okay? please don’t stop being affectionate with me; i miss it,” he admits, and you finally look up at him.
“i’m not annoying?” you ask, voice tiny.
“no, baby. i love your cuddles and your kisses and how adorable you are when you’re sleepy. i just love you.”
you’re speechless at his honesty, so you just nuzzle at his collarbone and breathe his scent in instead.
“you know, you acted like a child today,” he teases.
“shut up and cuddle me.”
“God, I forgot how terrifying she can be.”
Alex’s voice is loud in Kara’s ears. She stands shoulder to shoulder with her sister but doesn’t reply. She can’t, because she is entirely focused on the scene playing out in front of them.
“I mean, I watch her with Esme and they’re so quiet and gentle with each other. And then with you. I mean, you know how she is with you. And then she turns around and pulls this?”
This, the scene they are both watching, is Lena tearing into a stranger, a young man who made the mistake of approaching Kara in public. Not that there is anything wrong with that, per se. Since revealing her identity to the world, Kara has gotten used to people coming up to her to thank her for the work she does, or to ask her questions about being a superhero. There are also the many little girls who stare at her in awe, and Kara can’t lie, she enjoys it.
However, the attention Kara gets isn’t always entirely positive, and today is an example of that other side of being known publicly. Kara didn’t even hear all of what the man said to her, but what she did hear was lewd and gross. Lena didn’t hesitate; she pounced.
“Should I, do I need to intervene? She looks like she’s about to rip him apart and scatter the remains.” Alex sounds impressed and concerned in equal measure.
Kara swallows. She knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of this Lena, and it makes her shiver. The icy tone, the way her face betrays little more than the sheer determination to destroy, it’s both familiar and alarming.
In the end, intervention isn’t necessary. Kara watches as the man retreats, head down, without another glance in their direction. Lena turns and takes a few hasty steps toward Kara.
“Are you okay?”
Kara blinks. The sudden shift in Lena’s tone and demeanor is enough to give her whiplash, but she can’t help but feel warm at the deep concern in Lena’s voice.
“I’m pretty sure you made him soil his pants there, Lena. Especially when you told him you’d be calling his mother about today.” Alex chuckles, clearly amused.
Lena just shrugs. “Not my first rodeo.”
“You know, you didn’t have to do that.”
“What, and let him walk away thinking this is acceptable behaviour?” Lena frowns and shifts back and forth on her feet.
“No, I just,” Kara pauses and takes a breath, “I could have dealt with it myself.”
Lena’s body goes perfectly still and she studies Kara’s face for a long moment, brows pulled together. “I know that,” she says, and it sounds pained. “But if you’re asking me to, to sit back and watch you get attacked, I can’t do that.”
And just like that, today’s interaction is no longer just about the vulgar commentary from a stranger. Kara can see how Lena’s expression shifts, tenacity on full display despite the underlying worry. She’s seen this version of Lena before, too. The one who wouldn’t let her face Lex without programming a life-saving protocol into the Fortress’ systems. The one who agreed to use her still volatile magic to protect Kara’s humanity. The one who is Kara’s shelter from any storm they get thrown into, even when she is the storm.
Kara knows she wouldn’t be here without Lena, that she wouldn’t want to be here without her.
Alex clears her throat and the noise pulls Kara out of her thoughts and back into reality.
“Alright, I’m going to,” Alex points behind her shoulder, “I’m heading back to the office. You coming, Kara?”
Kara never takes her eyes off Lena. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Alex shakes her head a little but smiles at them and walks away. When she is sure that her sister is well out of sight, Kara reaches out and brushes against Lena’s hand with her fingers.
“I guess I’m still getting used to this. Getting recognized. And everything that comes with it.”
“I have no idea how you handled being a Luthor in public all these years. The vitriol. The hostility.”
“The bombings,” Lena adds with a quiet laugh.
“Those, too.” Kara shudders.
Lena’s eyes bore into hers. “I know you’re perfectly capable of defending yourself. I just, I can’t just stand by and do nothing. Please don’t ask me to do that.”
“I won’t. But promise me something?”
“Keep yourself protected, too?” Kara watches as Lena nods carefully. “And if you need help hiding a body, call Alex, not me. I don’t need to know.”
The tension snaps and Lena breaks into a proper laugh, loud and warm, the kind she only ever seems to share with Kara. Suddenly, Kara forgets all about any unpleasant public attention, or that Alex asked her to come to the DEO.
Lena reminds her when they’re half-way back to her office and Kara speeds off, but not before pressing a quick kiss to Lena’s cheek.
Later that afternoon, Kara places a somewhat excessive order at the local florist for delivery, with strict instructions to leave no surface of Lena’s office untouched.
She grins when she sees the text from Lena the next morning: a single red heart.