#THIS JUST IN: AFTER LIKE TWENTY YEARS OF FAWNING OVER THIS SEAL

[blackwinged-soul]

I may have been an intergalactic ruler, the greatest necromancer of my generation, and cojoined with the source of all darkness, all in worlds wherein I had great magic of my own.

But this thing is still the most powerful symbol in my magic.

(re, post I put on my mystic blog.)

Copying here for context. (Reminded about this by realizing it was very-close-to-new moon when I cast the latest round of shields over my room. During which I Used This Symbol.)

Oh yeah, speaking of casting all that cleansing/protective stuff: Sometimes being a pop culture witch is rewatching one of the things that has inspired your craft more than anything, incorporating it back into the thing you do, and it works SO FREAKING WELL that you wonder how you forgot about Using That Thing. Tagged: For me it's a certain protective seal that I ward my space with when I need Heavy Duty Blocking/Protecting and it always works better than all the iron or fire or mirror shields I've ever conjured. It's mostly an amalgam sort-of-mandala of a bunch of familiar symbols but Put It All Together and it's fucking MAGIC.

[whimsicallyreading]

“I just realized I’m desperately in love with you-“

Prompt Day One for Rowaelin Month

~

"Rowan, take a picture of that one. It's so cute." Aelin fawns quietly.

Rowan gives a long-suffering sigh. "There are a thousand of them here. Do you have to pester me into taking a picture of every seal pup we come across?"

"Her name is Fleetfoot, and yes. Isn't that the whole reason we are here?" Aelin looks at him equally annoyed, a strand of gold spun hair freeing itself from beneath her parka.

"I'm here to study the behavioral patterns of tiger seals and orcas in a rapidly shifting environment. You are here to keep our equipment functioning. If you keep talking, neither of us will finish our jobs and escape from this wasteland." Rowan switches the lens of his camera to focus on two male seals who were squaring up with each other in the distance.

Rowan nearly threw his camera over the boat and jumped off into the coastal waters of Argentina when he realized who had been assigned to assist him on this expedition.

He'd insisted that only he and one other make the trek across the Antarctic. Insisting a large group could impede the quality of his research. When they agreed, Rowan thought they would send him with Lorcan or Brullo. Both were accomplished survivalists and scholars—valuable additions to any team.

Instead, it was Aelin Ashryvver who waited for him at the dock. The most annoying newbie on his floor. Dorian insisted that her knowledge of mechanical engineering would make her invaluable.

So far, she was just a verifiable pain in his ass.

She sat around bored as Rowan spent the day writing notes and snapping photos. Occasionally she helped him set up microphones. On one instance, she fixed their ATV. It was the first and only time he'd found her truly useful.

Rowan couldn't wait to go home.

"Alright, we have the cameras positioned. We should head back to the base. The temps are dropping. We need to warm up and eat."

Aelin nods quietly, she would never admit it, but the severe temperatures are taking a toll on her. It was amazing how important something like fat is in a frigid environment. Rowan is naturally covered in layers of dense muscle. While Aelin is fit herself, she's still small and the first to feel the effects of persistent cold.

Watching the seals, she occasionally found herself jealous of their thick layers of blubber that kept them comfortable. She should have carb-loaded before they set sail.

They hop on the snow ski and traverse quickly over the powderlike substance.

~~~

When they reach the Terresen South Pole station and ditch their coats, they fall to the floor in a cascade of flurries. Rowan's spine straightens for the first time that day. Their coats were dense. With the additional weight of all of the equipment he carried, there was a perpetual bend in his spine.

It was a huge relief to be inside a climate-controlled building—light layers, freedom movement, and feeling in all of his extremities. Tossing that coat off was the pinnacle of his daily routine on this mission.

That is until he realized it was freezing.

Walking over to a light switch with urgency, he flicks it a few times. Nothing happens. Anxiety wells in his gut, and he hits the wall a couple of times before flipping the switch again.

"Shit," Rowan hisses.

"The power is out," Aelin's eyes widen with the realization. "That's not good."

"I thought I was the scientist, but look at you stating the obvious," Rowan growls as he shrugs his jacket back on. It wasn't nearly as frigid inside the insulated building as it was outside, but it was still bitterly cold. Keeping warm would be their first step in survival. Without heat, shit could hit the fan for them very quickly. Thankfully their satellite phones should still be functioning; he'd charged the battery the day before. There should be enough juice in the phones to send out a mayday call even without power.

Aelin doesn't put on her jacket. Instead, she heads in the direction of the lockers with a look of determination plastered on her face. It was a look he'd slowly begun to grow familiar with, mainly when Rowan was holding a ration packet she wanted. It made him uneasy.

"Where are you going?" Rowan calls after her, picking up her jacket. He wouldn't be held responsible for his younger, female partner freezing to death. HR at the University would have his head on a stick if she died on his watch.

He follows Aelin to her locker, where she's already sliding a grey jumpsuit over her clothes.

"I can fix the engines," Aelin pulls her zipper up. The jumpsuit covered head-to-toe, but they weren't nearly as warm as their snow gear. He could already see a slight blue-ish tint to her lips. "They probably just stalled. All I need to do is go down, diagnose the problem, and fix it. Easy as pie."

Ignoring the massive oversimplification of their situation, knowing it was a lost cause, he focuses on the immediate problem. "You need to keep your jacket on," Rowan thrusts the article of clothing at her. Her color was concerning him, and the longer she went without the thermal garment, the higher his stress became.

Aelin gives him a long-suffering look, all too similar to the one he gives her. "And get my hood or a sleeve caught in one of those beasts? Those machines are massive. Getting snagged could rip my arm off or kill me. It's like you don't even have a master's in engineering and a spotless safety record," she smiles at Rowan's scowling face. "Oh wait, that's me. Let me do my job, Dr. Whitethorn."

Before Rowan could argue, Aelin was gone down the stairwell towards the engines.

Dragging a frustrated hand through his hair, he tosses her jacket on the floor. His time is probably better spent getting through to their mission handlers on the satellite phones anyway.

~~~

Two hours later, Rowan has long finished his call with Dorian.

Their expedition leader had asked if they wanted a recovery team sent out to them, but Rowan hesitated. He was on the mission of a lifetime. He'd spent years waiting for approval to research at the southernmost tip of the world. It would be a devastating blow to his career and his pride for it to be cut short. The selfish part of him wanted to stay. The rationale, reasonable part of him was aching to stay the full duration of the expedition.

"You know, Dr. Whitethorn," Dorian spoke carefully. "There is a reason we chose Aelin to accompany you. She may be green and lacking a doctorate, but she's a miracle worker at what she does."

"Are you asking me to put my life in the newbie's hands?" Rowan asked without his standard vitriol. The situation and the cold had left him with no energy to be spiteful. He'd heard talk of her capabilities amongst the guys, and he'd seen a fraction of it when their snowmobile broke down. Rowan thinks back to the look on her face when she'd gone down the stairs. The steely determination of a warrior marching off to do battle.

Dorian laughs as if there was something funny about two of his most stubborn colleagues getting stranded in the south pole by themselves. "I'm not asking you to do anything. It's your call."

Rowan closes his eyes and contemplates their options. His head told him they should call the extraction team before they were nothing but frozen corpses. Yet, his heart didn't want to leave so soon. There was still so much work left to do.

Could he rely on Aelin?

"We will stay for now. Expect a call in twenty-four hours with a progress update." Rowan disconnected the transmission without any of the standard formalities.

After the fruitless call, he checks their food supply. Rowan scans the shelves, comfortable they wouldn't go hungry any time soon. Their only concern would be keeping all their shit from freezing, including their water. Rowan triple checks that everything is insulated, sealed, and stored away before moving on to other essentials, like batteries.

Another hour passes as he takes inventory, and Rowan is starting to feel the cold more than before. His nailbeds slowly shift from blue to white beneath his thick gloves, and he can't control the slight quaking spreading up his limbs.

When Rowan hears the doorway to the stairwell creak, he goes to check in with Aelin on her progress.

What he finds when he opens the locker room door sends his heart to his throat.

Aelin's hands loosely grip the zipper of her jumpsuit as she weakly attempts to free herself. Her face is a ghostly white, and her movements sluggish.

If she weren't moving, he'd have thought she was already frozen.

"Aelin, are you good? Talk to me." Rowan rushes to her and helps Aelin step out from the jumpsuit.

"I fixed the engine," Aelin coughs into the crook of her arm, her voice scratchy from the cool air. "It will be a couple of hours before they can catch up and heat the building."

Rowan rips off a glove and holds a bare hand to her cheek. Aelin's skin is freezing to the touch, even to his own icy hands. He notes that she isn't trembling the same way he is. It's not a good sign, the biologist in him notes. He knows it's her body growing too weak to keep itself warm.

"Sit down. You're freezing," Rowan helps her slide to the floor and looks at the discarded jacket that's still lying there. It won't warm her quick enough.

"Rowan?" Aelin speaks from her slightly slumped position.

Rowan is pacing, trying to think. They don't have a means of warming water for a bath. Laying next to the generators is too risky.

"Rowan," Aelin murmurs, her eyes drooping. "I can't feel my feet."

Rowan looks at her, and for a moment, she looks like an ice princess. Her blond hair is slipping from its braid and coiling across her colorless face. The cerulean blue of her eyes was the brightest color he now saw regularly beside the southern lights. They stood out even more starkly now.

It was all wrong.

"It's going to be alright, Aelin. You said the power is back on?" Rowan lifts her into his arms, her freezing nose burrowing into the crook of his neck.

"Yeah," she rasps against his shoulder. "But it will take a while for the building to heat."

"We don't need the whole building to heat. Do you trust me?" Rowan trots down the hall, careful not to bump her against the narrow doorframes.

She mumbles something incoherent into his shirt. "I trust you."

Rowan is thankful that the cold keeps the flush from his face. He reaches the desired room and fiddles with the control panel on the wall. A wave of relief hits him as the room behind the heavy door audibly hums to life.

"Okay, here we go." He says more to himself than Aelin. Rowan ditches the jacket and pulls his long-sleeved tee over his head. The buttons of his pants are next, leaving him in only his boxers.

Turning around, Aelin looks weary but not surprised. "Nice abs."

"Thanks," He says and kneels next to her, eyes searching her face for permission.

Aelin dips her head, "I'm not shy, Whitethorn. Don't fret."

Rowan helps Aelin maneuver her stiff limbs out of her garments until she is left in nothing but her bra and panties. Her face is pained as even more of her is exposed to the cold.

"Hurts," Aelin grits through her teeth, and Rowan gathers her up again. The icy room is like barbs against his exposed skin, but he's not in a position to complain.

The minute he carries her into the balmy air of the sauna, Aelin flinches. "Oh, that smarts."

"I know. It's going to suck for a bit while your blood recirculates." Rowan consoles softly, knowing he would also feel the cramping as they got their blood moving.

Drastic temperatures changes weren't the ideal way to warm up, but they'd spent far too long in the cold. He needed to get Aelin shivering again. It was the body's natural defense against the cold, and when a person could no longer shiver, it meant they were dipping into the realm of hypothermia.

The sauna was an added addition for the comfort of the researchers who visited the Southern base. It was a great tool to warm people after spending hours in the harsh climate. He'd heard tales of it from colleagues who'd visited the base before but hadn't yet saught to use it himself. Rowan was too focused on the mission. It hadn't carried any appeal for him until this moment, and now he was beyond grateful for its existence.

Rowan sits on the floor instead of the bench so that Aelin can curl up comfortably in his lap. Skin-to-skin contact was one of the best ways to help a person regulate their body temperature. He soothes a calloused hand over the length of her arm, trying to spread what remained of his warmth to her skin.

Aelin's cheek rests against his chest, and Rowan uses one hand to free her hair from its braid. The curtain of gold fans across her back, and he has to resist the urge to run his fingers through its waves.

He'd noticed how beautiful she was the day they first met at the university. Out of respect, he'd immediately repressed those thoughts. They were professionals, and Rowan wasn't about to ruin his reputation fawning over the new, young blonde on their floor.

But with her laying half-naked in his lap, it was hard to disregard how pretty she was. It wasn't even just her appearance. The girl was magnetic in every way. People paid attention when she walked in, and she claimed the lion's share of air in the room.

Fenrys and Conall flirted with her remorselessly. It secretly irked him. Rowan had long since memorized the way she laughed and how she'd smile as she shoed them away. It was all good-natured fun for them, but it always made Rowan irrationally angry. The time she'd showed up at the annual Christmas party in a green velvet dress with an open back nearly left his brain on the floor. His eyes had raked the smooth plains of skin, only turning away when she'd tried to catch his eye.

If he'd been paying attention, he would have seen her look of disappointment.

Rowan had written it off as an infatuation—a natural response to seeing an attractive woman. The scientist in him wanted to boil it down to chemistry and hormones. Cold facts that could diagnose the way he felt every time he laid eyes on her. Yet, as Rowan laid there with a hurting Aelin in his arms, he began to wonder if there was something more.

Her pain was making his chest physically ache.

A pair of arms snaked around his waist, and his body jerked. Aelin looks up at him sheepishly. "Sorry, I'm just really comfortable."

Rowan relaxes, "It's fine."

The steam in the room is slowly building. Rowan can feel the cramping beginning in his legs. Aelin's weight on his thighs was not helping the slightest, but there was no way in hell he'd move her.  

"My body is aching," Aelin says lightly, but he can hear the strain in her voice and feel a slight tremble running through her.

"That's good. Can you feel your feet?" Rowan can no longer resist, and her hair parts between his fingers like strands of gold silk.

Aelin tightens her arms around him, "Yeah. A bit. I didn't realize how numb they got until I took off my boots."

There's a slight tickle at his back, Aelin's finger tracing a pattern against his skin. A flush of warmth rushes through him, not from the sauna.

He's in unending deep shit.

"Aelin," his voice wavers uncharacteristically. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

The fingers on his back continue making their delicate patterns. "No."

"Aelin?" He asks again, but she cuts him off with a groan.

"Stop asking me questions and just kiss me," Aelin grips the back of his head and pulls his lips down to her's.

An inferno blooms inside his soul.

Aelin could never be a winter queen. She was the raging embodiment of summer. A burning ember he'd carried from the north into this land of ice. As his lips move against hers, he swears his body is lit ablaze, and when Rowan opens his eyes, he's delighted at the flush he finds unfurling across her cheeks.

"It's suddenly a lot warmer." Aelin laughs, looking more lively even as her body starts to quake from the warmth finally reaching her.

He kisses her cheek and tilts her ear towards his lips, "Aelin?"

"Another question?" Aelin's smile curls into something feline. "Is this that scientific curiosity the university is always going on about?"

"I just realized I'm desperately in love with you,"

Rowan lets the truth fall from his lips. It was just the two of them. They were the only human souls in this far corner of the earth. There was no one to stop him as he finally lets the emotions he'd been repressing until the moment Aelin was in danger wash over him.

"That's not a question," Aelin responds after a moment, her tone light and jovial.

Rowan smiles. "It's not."

Aelin curls back up against Rowan, enjoying the feel of his skin against hers. An embarrassing sound of contentment escapes her, which worsens her blush.

Not forgetting their original purpose in the sauna, Rowan grips her hands and massages them between his. "You have no response?"

"Not one that HR is going to like." Aelin winces as her hand spasms, and Rowan methodically works to ease the ache.

"Say it anyway," Rowan implores. Screw the university. He was tired of living for his work alone. Nothing outshined this moment, holding this woman in his arms. He could find a new job, but if Aelin reciprocated his feelings, he couldn't find another one of her.

"Well, I thought it was pretty obvious when I wore that dress to the Christmas party and then found a reason to walk past your office every day." Aelin huffs and looks up at him, "Don't tell me you didn't know?"

Rowan was speechless.

Aelin's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Rowan, Dorian, and I are friends. Did you know that?"

"What?" Rowan blinks confusedly. That was common knowledge, but he didn't understand why she was bringing that up now.

"Dorian and I go way back. He knew I had a thing for you, and I told him sending me on this trip was unethical when I'm such a new hire-" Aelin trails off, waiting for him to grasp her point.

"Wait," Rowan looks down at her, bemused. "Dorian was trying to set us up?"

"Human recourses won't like that very much either," Aelin grins. "But Dorian would keep our secret. He owes me a lot of favors."

The sauna's temperature had slowly been rising, and Rowan could see that his skin was returning to its usual color. Aelin still looked a bit pale, but it was probably residuals from being so close to freezing.

She'd risked herself to save the expedition and successfully fixed the engines. Rowan didn't believe for one second that Dorian only sent her in an elaborate attempt to set her up. She was bright and cunning. He was lucky to have her along with him.

"You got here on your merit," Rowan presses a soft peck to her lips as he soothes her unvoiced concern. He refused to let her doubt her level of skill. "But if the feelings are mutual, I would love to take you on a date when we get back home?"

"I would love that," Aelin crawls off his lap and holds a hand out. "Come on, now. We need to eat and sleep. We have seals to observe."

Rowan accepted her hand. Forget the seals. He would have a difficult time keeping his attention on them. His eyes were glued to her bare legs as they moved and the way her hair swung free of its constraints.

She smirked over his shoulder. Aelin knew precisely what she was doing to him.

Rowan had traversed to the end of the world to understand the natural universe a little better. While he hadn't unlocked any great mysteries, he couldn't help but think what he did find was better.

[siriusmydeer]

ooo okay so a James Potter x reader soulmate au where they feel each others pain, and she has a suspicion he's her soulmate but it's confirmed when he falls off his broom, and she hates him being her soulmate because he's in love with lily, but he says that lily doesn't matter anymore blah blah, and she says she first thought it was him when he fell of a bench in the great hall or something after confessing his love for lily in front of the entire school (1)

‘all along that they were soulmates but she tells him its really inconsiderate for being so obvious about his love for lily when he knew he had a soulmate and he feels really guilty and tries to make it up for her and yeah fluff ending please :)’

the painful soulmate

james potter x fem!reader

summary: in a world where you can feel your soulmates pain; your soulmate happens to think someone else is his soulmate

word count: 2.2k

warning: swearing, mentions of verbally abusing someone, mentions of beating people up, injuries; falling in the air, cracked ribs, tripping, face planting. joking name calling, kissing, angst, soulmate au, insinuation of unrequited love, fluff ending

by the age of 16 you and every other witch along with wizard were given a particular... gift. you wouldn’t consider it a gift, more like your worse fucking nightmare but you could squeal and pretend to be all dainty and excited about meeting your soulmate.

i mean why not give someone a choice on who they wanted to love? this wasn’t a game of spin the bottle this was forever.

being the only female in your friend group, made all the boys amongst you ridiculously pry into your privacy. wanting to know who they had to verbally torture considering they would scoop up the ‘precious little baby-girl’ of the group.

coming directly from the drama queen himself; sirius black. it’s not like they could beat up your partner because you would be able to feel his or her pain as-well.

you were sat in the marauders dorm absently playing with your fingers while looking at each of your mates, sirius and remus attempted to finish their plans on a new prank for the newest defence against the dark arts teacher, james sat at his desk table writing up ways to ask lily more dramatically than the last and peter had been figuring out his transfiguration homework from a few days prior.

“prongs, if you know she’s gonna say no, then why ask?” remus questioned not even looked at the sapphire-eyed boy. his only logic being, ‘well ill turn her no into a yes.’ as if coercion was the way to go.

the brunette sat at the table swiftly turning his head in the lyncanthropes direction, his spectacles almost falling down his nose from the quick snap of his head. “well, lily-pad has always said, ‘not in a million years!’ but that means after a million years she’d go out with me.” finishing his speech with a small grin.

the rest of the group on the other hand looked at him dumbfounded. eyebrows either scrunched or furrowed, “james m’afraid that’s not how it works.” you spoke, trying to ease his feelings as if your words could stop his incessant pining.

“well, i’ll just make it work!” turning around and continuing his list, speaking as if he was godric gryffindor coming up with the best idea of the century. “ten galleons she says no again.” sirius quickly whispers in peters direction, the dirty blonde haired boy doing a quick nod then looking back at his parchment.

“i heard that!”

the next time there was a ramble of soulmate talk, which by the way you were getting exhausted from. why did everyone have to have a soulmate? why couldn’t you pick from your own free will? it’s not even like you could have a bloody crush because there was already someone supposedly out there for you!

one free period, ONE! and it’s spent over peter narrowing down his options on all the gryffindor girls he might be paired with. “it’s definitely not marls, peter.” sirius’ pearl irises glanced at peter than over to remus who was trying to teach you how to play wizards chess.

“moony, not to be offensive, but this game sucks arse.” you shrugged, glaring at your queen piece that looked like it wanted to yell at you. as you were twisting around the wood of your pieces, james got up from the bench catching a glimpse of red among the ravenclaw students. instead tripping on the stone of the bench and face planting into the freshly cut grass.

you felt a soreness at the fronts of your calves and an immense discomfort on your face. you grimaced while rubbing your knees trying to soothe the random shoot of exertion through your veins to the point where you almost had the urge to groan.

james quickly scrambled to his feet trying to brush out his hair that had sprinkles of green all over the front, you completely ignored the fact that james’ fall broken by the stone of the bench had caused you to have a twinge of pain into your system.

“none of you saw that.” he panted with slight embarrassment, directing his message to sirius who had his hand clenched into a fist over his lips attempting to cover up the small chortles that were threatening to escape his lips.

“don’t worry, we saw nothing.” you confirmed with an amused grin, putting your two fingers over your lips like a seal.

he grinned back at you twice as hard, your heart starting more of an upbeat frequency that you started to notice as he sat beside you moving a piece that could ruin remus’ chance at winning.

“you slimy git! you’re helping her cheat, you little slag!” remus whined, trying to analyze the board again.

after your recovery, from absolutely nothing. you were sprawled on the scarlet-couch waiting for the rest of your friends to come back from detention. you dazed into a book remus had recently given to you, an icepack laying on your foot as you were almost hypnotized by the pride and prejudice book in your hands.

“oi, m’lady!” sirius abruptly shouted while returning to his common room. you jumped from the stentorian voice, that sunk into the now not-solemn and peaceful common room.

you turned your head seeing the bespectacled boy limp onto the other vermillion couch and rest his leg onto the plush of the pillow, meanwhile, the fawn and dirty blonde haired boys sat in the gryffindor-red love seats tired from their detention.

“what’s wrong with him?” you asked, referring to james’ leg that was propped under the pillow.

“we don’t know, we were walking and he just picked up his foot in agony. who knows maybe lily stubbed her toe.” sirius amused to the rest of the group. but your eyes widened in concern, but you had— there’s absolutely and completely no way. more than one person can stub their toe in one day, not just— just one person.

almost like you were in a daze or hypnotized, as stealth as possible you grabbed the maroon coloured blanket that was rested on the arm rest of the couch you spread it over your legs covering the foot; that you had injured previously that day.

what the fuck. no seriously, what the fuck. there wasn’t— there couldn’t even be— that wouldn’t work. it’s not possible. the butterflies, the flushed face, the nervous ticks— fuck.

over the course of the next few days, you were very careful. you could’ve been mary friggin’ poppins i mean you didn’t want him to get suspicious if you were both injured at the same time. you also did not want to know if he— the boy pining over lily fucking evans since first year was possibly— no there’s no way.

the following week there was a slytherin and gryffindor quidditch game. which also happened to be incredibly nerve wracking not only for you but between both houses, as much as slytherin wanted to seem nonchalant there act was simply not going to work. this determined who would be playing in the quidditch house cup, slytherins also happened to not play the fairest in quidditch so extra gryffindor training was keen.

well now that following week, was today. the game was fine, great even. gryffindor was in the lead and james was about to score a quaffle in the hoop, that was until slytherin beater decided to bat a bludger right into james torso causing him to collapse off his broom twenty five feet into the air with nothing to break his fall. at the reflect of the bludger on james ribs you already groaned hunched over into your seat catches the attention of both peter and sirius.

dumbledore did all the spells he could in such a swiftly manner before james skidded on the muddy grass of the pitch. by then you couldn’t even hold in the moans and groans from his affliction with the hard iron bludger and the fall from the air.

both peter and sirius’ eyes widened and shared a look before taking concern to your arching figure. “m’god i didn’t think it hurt that bad!” you groaned into your hands that could almost be seen as trembling from the agony that you were in as james’ team mates brought him down to the infirmary to check for injuries which he did in-fact have.

after sirius had brought you to your dorm, attempting to do a spell to rid you of most-but not all of your pain he raced to healers wing, seeing james on the verge of unconsciousness as madam pomfrey tried to whip up a potion in a fast manner to heal the boy.

i guess it was true— james was your soulmate. your soulmate in love with another woman that is.

a few hours later james was ordered to stay the night for observation, while both sirius and peter decided to catch up remus along with james up on the other ‘things’ more, or less, that occurred during the quidditch match.

him, and lily.... weren’t soulmates? he thought maybe one day they would’ve ended up together, at some point. not his very best friend being the one he’s ‘destined’ with. but he was desperate to speak with you, how did you know? did you even know? how bad did it hurt? he had so many questions scattered around his brain, until he saw your face that was close to a grimace from pain.

“hi.” you whispered, catching his attention.

“hey.” he whispered back hoarsely, gulping at the sudden tension in the room.

“so we’re—“ “you’re my—“ you both spoke at the same time, following an humourless more-so nervous chuckle, from the both of you.

“how long— did you even know?” james started, looking at your figure as if you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

you sat down nervously, cracking your knuckles as you were unsure where to start. “i thought— i started wondering, that day me and rem were playing chess and you fell.” you cleared your throat while speaking, avoiding eye contact entirely. “my knees started to hurt, but i didn’t even notice it. the day that you came into the common room limping, was when i suspected it.” you wrung your fingers together nervously, then looking into his irises.

“you knew? why didn’t you—“ his anger already starting to get the best of him, you knew that you were his soulmate. you were right in-front of him, but you never told him; he almost felt betrayed.

“i didn’t know! only suspected. but you have to understand, james. you were incessantly pinning after lily, you claimed you were ‘in love with her’. you’re making it seem like it was gonna be so easy for me to tell you that ‘guess what, james! the girl you love actually isn’t your soulmate and it’s your best friend you have no interest in!’ prongs, m’fraud s’not that easy.” you mocked, proving your correct argument to him based on his actions.

he took a shaky breath, analyzing basically his whole life in-front of him. even though he might’ve ‘loved’ lily, you were still more important to him. soulmate or not, he would always go to you first. he could barely stand to fight with you, he couldn’t loose you over some silly crush that he had.

“it doesn’t matter— lily— she doesn’t matter. y/n it’s you, soulmate, not soulmate, who cares! lily or not lily, you’ve always been my go-to, my number one, i mean you’ve always been the most important!” he said drastically while punctuating his words, and flailing his arms in the air to prove his point to you.

you sighed looking at him, almost unsure of his words. he looked at you expectantly before speaking again, “i’ll get on my knees right now and beg to you. with broken— well now bruised but priory broken ribs. not to mention my stubbed toe.” he chuckled at last second trying to humour you.

“oh my g— get up!” you snickered at him, james potter was on his knees fighting all the pride in his system right in-front of you where you were sat. his hands grasped both sides of your thighs trying to soothe you into you forgiving him.

at the sight of him right infront of you, with the best sirius black puppy dog eyes he could muster with a pouted lip you immediately gave in. “fine.” you sighed, “fine, fine, fine.” you giggled.

both of his hands encasing your cheeks, a small pout on your lips. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his elbows resting on your thighs. you looked at him pretending to ponder off in thought; shrugging while you spoke, “hmmm, maybe. i gues—“ he quickly cut you off, kissing your pouted lips in the middle of a sentence.

you kissed back, holding his face between your agile fingers. your right hand resting on his squared jaw and the other in his fluffy and borderline-sweaty hair. your lips slotting together, he could feel the mint taste from the gum you have chewed earlier bleed onto his tastebuds; you on the other hand, not such a memorable taste.

you quickly pulled away, a dramatic whine escaping from his throat. “you remember when you face planted into the dirt earlier?” you giggled while asking him. he looked at you confused; why would... you... be asking if he remembered himself falling?

“erm, yeah i can recall.”

“yeah your mouth tastes like dirt.”

taglist: @fathermarty @kittykylax @ronweasleyluvr @aspiringsloth20 @dear-luna @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

if your username is crossed out that means you gave me the wrong username or your settings for public display tags are off!

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 1

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 1900

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start

It has been a long time coming, you haven’t been on a real vacation since you graduated high school. You joined the Marines immediately, went into training and university. With you, it was always work, work, work. For you, it made sense since your brother was a Navy Seal and you both didn’t really have family. And you didn’t stay anywhere long enough to make super close friends to vacation with. But this trip, this was for you and only you.

               You got your degrees in psychology, battle strategies, and world cultures, but your true love was literature. You made it this far living a pretty isolated life because of your brother and your books. You generally just loved to read, so after leaving the Marines, before you started to find your new pathway you said you were going to take this vacation around Europe stopping in different places described or lived in by some of your favorite authors. Jane Austen, Shakespeare, Sir Doyle, Thomas Malory, etc. And it’s been amazing seeing all these places that inspired your idols, imagining how your favorite fictional characters lived.

               And here, alas you were in Scotland. Not necessarily because one of your favorite fictional characters lived here or your favorite author grew up near here, but because of your brother.  He wanted you to explore where you both came from, he felt it would help understand life before you both lost your parents. Plus, he was a huge history buff – it was his hobby outside the Seals.

               He told you all about the battles and culture amongst the decades before us. He told you about our Irish and Scottish ancestors. He’d tell you, you can’t have a name like Y/N O’Mulligain and not think of the Irish.

               There was this nearby village you were passing through. An author named Diana Gabaldon wrote a romance novel based on this rock formation. Your old college roommate wrote a thesis paper about historically accurate romance novels and pop culture. You thought, what the hell, since your here minus well check it out.

               It was strange at first, wondering through this supposed magical place. People clearly flocked here for Outlander’s popularity. You more enjoyed watching the people. You sat against a tree, pulled out a sandwich from your bag, and watched the middle age woman touch these rocks like they were the rock hard abs of a character from Outlander. It was quite amusing. You liked to think your mother would be doing the same thing if she were still alive.

               “You must not be a fan, girly,” you look up to an older woman, clearly Scottish from her accent.

               Shaking your head, standing up to shake her hand, “Is it that obvious,” you laugh, “I’m Y/N. Just a tourist, watching other tourist. That obvious hugh?”

               “Mary, deary,” she grinned answering you with her name while look up at you. You were about five three, but this woman had to be four feet something tall because she was tiny, “Just by the way you’re gazing all around, a girl looking for her own adventure, not through someone else’s eyes or story, but of your own.”

               “You get all that from just looking at me,” you laughed, looking at her curiously. You loved people like this, authentic and wily – it was usually the case with old people.

               “It’s the glimmer in your eye,” she gripped your chin softly, shaking it.

               You laughed, smiling down at her, “May I ask you a question? Do you believe the tales of this place? I know the Scottish culture has a lot of tall tales and superstitions, but a story like that?”

               “Aaa,” she nodded her head, “A skeptic,” she nodded, “These people wandering about, they don’t really believe in the tale. But I believe in the magic of this place, it just doesn’t work from anyone. It’s for the special.”

               Watching her with amusement and skepticism, you laugh nodding your head, “I hope I didn’t offend you with my question.”

               “No, of course not dear – though I believe in the magic of this place. I mostly come to watch these woman fawning over these rocks. I like to bet on which woman will kiss one of those moldy old things.” You laughed so loud, she grinned up at you, “I am about to go home to my hunny Wallace, but you stay here for me? Those three woman over there,” you looked in the direction she was pointing, “I believe they are each going to lick one of these things.”

               Laughing again, you nodded, “I’ll keep a close eye on them. It was an absolute pleasure, ma’am,” she gripped your hand tightly for a second before releasing.

               You sat back, glancing at those women laughing, “And dear,” you look back up to her, “Most people will be leaving to their beds or finding a pub, but you should stay. While the sun is setting – this place will give you the most magical sights.”

               She truly intrigued you, “Of course ma’am, thank you again.”

               “Enjoy your adventure lass,” she grinned once more, walking off down the path.

                 She was right, people started to trickle out. Husbands getting annoyed or bored, ladies feeling exhausted, or people just fearsome of loss of light – they just left group by group. You were left alone eventually, starring at the sun sinking into the horizon. She was right again, Scotland was magical with sights. You took a mental picture of this moment – the smooth silence, the color the sky made, and just being one with this experience. Your life was never slow, silent, or peaceful. You had always lived in the rush of things. But here, you sat taking in this moment. You felt like you could stay in this moment forever.

               The sun eventually went down and you were met with near darkness – which exception of the full moon. You collected your things and got ready to leave. And it dawned on you – you came all this way and have never even touched these rocks. The book aside, these rocks have had legends and tales for centuries. You should respect the stories and culture. With one touch, maybe you’ll feel the stories, tales, and people that touched it before you.

               It felt odd to reach out and touch the stone. It was cool and surprising smooth. You laughed at the thought of all the tongues that touched this exact spot. And with a single breathe, everything grew black and all the air punched out of you.

               Next thing you felt was the slam of the ground and your oxygen returning to your lungs. The sun from the tree burned your eyes. And you heard it, gun shots. You thought you were having another Post-Traumatic Stress attack, but the second bang brought you to reality. And you started to run, your bag still on your back, darting through the trees. You heard shouts, but you were not taking the chance. Being in the military, you didn’t stand still to figure it out.

               Someone gripped your arm as you ran past them, pointing a sword right in your face, “Are you for real,” I yell at them.  

He had a musket pointing directly in your face. You stopped breathing; he was dressed like a 18th century soldier. Thoughts sped in your mind, could this be a reenactment? Could this be a sick joke? The bullet sounds shook you out of your thoughts, the man was about to speak. You grabbed his musket, yanking it towards your body. The gun went off as his head smashed into yours. He groaned, tripping backwards, and smashing against a tree. The light from the headbutt blasted on in your head.

The light started to blind through, and the forest became vivid again. The sound of bullet fire caused you jump out of it and look at the man unconscious before you. You had to be dreaming, everything was so real. The sound, the smell, the world around you. Where and when were you exactly? You got drug out of your thoughts as a bullet graved your arm. You gasped in pain and your body took flight again. On the run again, you slide down an embankment, meeting eye to eye with another redcoat.

               You gasped, “Holy hell,” you whispered looking at the man, “Forgive me,” you said out loud, as the man watched you, straightening up. You saw his insignia, “Captain?”

               “Jonathan Randall, Esquire – Eighth Dragoon of your majesty’s army, mistress,” he answered.

               Something inside you reminisced, that name was familiar. Watching him closely, as he made his micromovements - he was also watching you, like some predator to prey, “I seem to be in the wrong time, wrong place,” you awkwardly laughed.

               “It does seem that,” he paused to see if you’d introduce yourself.

               “I had someone taking me to some distant family and they tried to attack and rob me,” you tried to play the damsel in distress, “My brother always told me I was too trusting.”

               “Yes mistress, women are naïve sheep,” he tiptoed towards you, his hand resting on his sword, “Your accent,” he nodded towards you. You slowly started taking steps back, “I’m unfamiliar with it.”

               He didn’t believe you, clearly you were off your game. Maybe it’s because the blast you took a few minutes ago getting you to this point. It could be the fact that this was surreal, “I’m grew up in the colonies,” you shrugged it off, you could only imagine how far away your accent was to actually existing, “But my brother sent me to our parent’s home country after their passing.”

               You forgot the first rule of lying, keep it short with no unneeded details. His uniform was familiar, the military and your brother trained you well. You had inclined the year and it was clear the woods of Scotland were not safe with the Redcoats. This man was an enemy, not a gentleman of the era you’ve heard and learned so much about. You had to get away, find safety, and figure out what exactly is going on.

               You knew self-defense, hell you were trained well at the art of combat, but this man had weapons and the only thing you had was a backpack and no adequate footwear for a run in the woods, “You don’t dress like a lady,” he motioned towards your clothes. You stop breathing at this, “In fact, only traitorous women wear clothes such as this,” your back was against the hill behind you. His breath was on you. He gripped your neck tightly, “There is only one way to deal with a woman like yourself,” he went for his buckle.

               Your brother drilled into you about protection during moments like this. He trained you on what to do, it was natural. Headbutt to the nose, hike up of the knee, a tool – in your case a rock – to the head. And soon you were breathing heavily and looking at the Captain unconscious on the ground.

               The sound of the Redcoats was not far off, “Druid,” you heard. You were surprised that someone could sneak so close and not make any noise. This Scottish looking fellow reached out his hands, “Come now,” he said. Your only instinct was to take it for now. This man pulled you behind a tree.

               “What year is it,” you whispered to him.

               “1743,” he mumbled, trying to shush me, taking the time to give you a questionable look.

               “Pinch me,” you were hoping this to be a dream. It was a final test of your predicament. He looked at you strangely before helping with your request. He did, and you felt it and suddenly everything went black.

PART 2

[mint-yooxgi]

Forever - Yandere!Immortal!Yoongi X Reader

Yandere!AU - Part of the Yandere!BTS X Reader Series

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Yoongi X Reader

Words: 8,362

Warning: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned. Please note that not everything in this fic is historically accurate!

A/n: I have mixed feelings about this one personally, but I'm still happy with the way it turned out. I know it’s a little shorter than the last one, but I hope you all enjoy it too, especially after the long wait! Thank you all for being patient with me with these stories, and for all your continued support. If anything is confusing, feel free to ask me about it! As always, I do not believe Yoongi, nor any member of BTS would act like this. This is just my interpretation of the archetype. Feedback is greatly appreciated, enjoy!

781 CE

The very first time he laid his eyes on you, you hadn’t really caught his attention. Being one of the Prince’s personal servants, you had been following him around the grounds, tending to his every need. 

Yoongi spotted you from across the garden where he had been working on a composition for the Prince’s engagement. He scoffed to himself as he watched you fret about the Prince, running after him and keeping all your attention focused on him.

Yoongi couldn’t help but to roll his eyes and look away from the scene before him. However, the small yelp that escaped your lips as you tripped over your own feet caught his attention once more. What also surprised him, was how quick the Prince was able to catch you before you fell.

Prince Jungkook was a handsome man, set to be engaged and married off to a princess of one of the neighbouring two kingdoms in the coming weeks. A fact which he seemed neither pleased or displeased with, based off of Yoongi’s observations.

All the ladies fawned after him, wanting to either be with him, or even be noticed by him. Even many of the men wanted a chance to interact with the Prince, some even wishing to become him, in all his glory.

Yoongi never bothered himself with the dealings of the Prince before today. Before he saw the way you looked at the Prince, and the way the Prince stared back.

Clearly, there was something going on between the two of you. If he’s being honest, Yoongi was just going to brush your look off as nothing more than you being infatuated with the Prince, just like all the others before you, but as soon as he saw the Prince looking at you with the same amount of care and affection in his eyes, Yoongi’s interest was piqued.

Relationships in the palace were very strict, especially those with royalty. Never was one of royal blood supposed to deal with those of lesser status romantically, less they wanted to be shunned and banished from the kingdom. Or worse.

Throughout the following days, Yoongi observed the two of you more closely. He noticed how you would stand slightly closer to the Prince whenever the two of you were together. Sure you could play off the closeness due to the fact that you were his personal servant, but he knew that that was not the case.

He watched the two of you steal glances at each other whenever the other wasn’t looking, whenever you could, and he began to wonder what having a love like that might feel like.

Over time, he began paying closer attention to just you. Often times wondering what made you so special that made the Prince, of all people, fall for you. He was never quite certain, but he felt he understood one day after weeks of observing.

You had a gentle air around you that drew everyone in, always treating everyone with a certain kindness he himself sometimes lacked. You were careful of everything you did, making sure you were always acting proper and well reserved, especially around the King and Queen. 

Over time, Yoongi came to notice little subtleties about you as well. Like the way you would tuck your hair behind your ear when you got nervous about something, or the way you would bite your bottom lip if you were unsure of what to do next. There were also times where he overheard you humming to yourself as you were doing chores around the palace, and he couldn’t help but to become entranced with how your voice sounded. So elegant and sweet; music to his ears.

Throughout all this time observing you, Yoongi found himself falling in love with you from afar. However, you were not his to hold, nor were you his to love. You had already given yourself to the Prince, and there was no way for him to compete with Jungkook.

The longer this went on, the more he found himself getting jealous of the Prince. Jungkook was to be married off soon, yet here he was wasting your time, and your precious emotions, on a love that could never last. Over time, Yoongi found himself asking what Jungkook could possibly have over himself that made you love him more. He soon realized that there was nothing.

Granted, you have never actually had an interaction with Yoongi, only seen him here and there in passing, but that never stopped him from falling in love with you. Or at least, the idea of you.

Yoongi wanted a love that would consume him in his entirety, the same way that he knew he would give himself to you if you ever let him. However, he never would get his chance.

Maybe it was his own fault since he never acted on his feelings. Maybe it was the class he was born into that stopped him from pursuing his feelings. Or maybe, just maybe, fate had a hand in everything. Twisting everything into a cruel sort of game where he could never have you like he so desperately wanted.

His love for you was pure, and he would have given you everything if you asked him, but you were never his in the first place.

Each day he woke up, fear would eat away at his heart, for it was getting closer to the royal ceremony announcing the Prince’s royal engagement. He could see the fear and desperation hiding behind your own eyes, and he so desperately wanted to comfort you. To hold you close and whisper that everything was going to be alright, despite everything that was bound to happen, but he couldn’t.

On the day of the ceremony, things started out well. His composition was played and met with thunderous approval from the King. Arrangements were being made for when the wedding would be taking place, and the King and Queen could not have been happier.

Except for the fact when Jungkook decided to make a fuss and announce his love for you, his personal servant, in front of the entire royal family and council of elders, ultimately sealing your fate.

You were then promptly seized by the palace guards and brought before the King. They treated you harshly, pushing you down onto your knees before the King and Queen, shunning you, as Jungkook was held back from rushing to your side.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” The King had asked you, malice and disgust clear in his voice.

“I love him,” was all that you had said, before the King gave the nod and you were executed on the spot.

Yoongi’s heart broke as he watched your lifeless body fall to the ground and bleed out for all to see. He barely registered Jungkook’s broken cry over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears.

He found he could only stand there and watch as the guards released their hold on Jungkook, only for him to run over and cradle your dead body in his arms in the next moment. Yoongi could overhear the whisper of an apology the Prince gave you, crying out for the love he lost in the blink of an eye, and all because he defied his kingdom.

Yoongi stood there, face barely remaining emotionless as you laid there in Jungkook’s arms as he sobbed into your chest.

He could not cry. Not here, not now, and most certainly not in front of all these people. Especially not in front of the Prince, who was so desperately pleading for you to come back to him.

No, Yoongi could not cry. For you were not his to lose.

1045 CE

For over three hundred years, Yoongi has had to live with the pain of loosing you. It hurt, so much, at first, and he was tempted to throw himself into the river just so he could join you in the afterlife, but fate had other plans.

Around his twenty-third birthday, Yoongi noticed he stopped aging. As the years passed, he watched as others grew older while he remained youthful and healthy.

At first he did not understand, questioning how he could be like this, but he later came to accept his youthful appearance. Everyday, he was sure it was going to be his last, but the end never came. Even when he attempted to end it all, he would wake up the very next day unharmed, as if nothing had ever happened to him in the first place.

Eventually, he had to leave the palace due to people getting suspicious of his youthful appearance, likening him to a sorcerer whom never ages due to an elixir he drinks. He would always laugh at that, shaking his head in disbelief as he assured them it was just a sound mind and body which gave way for the blood of youth to flow through him. However, once the royal family started getting suspicious, especially since Jungkook would age and he would not, Yoongi decided it was time for him to move on with his life.

Thus, he got into the habit of faking his own death. Each time the people would start getting suspicious of his immortality, he would ‘die’ in some way or other, only to move on to the next town or village he deemed necessary.

Currently, he’s residing in a small village just off the coast of the sea. He busies himself with becoming a fisherman to get by, yet still composing in his free time. Even though it’s been years, he never lost that passion for music, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

Each day, he still wonders why he’s been kept alive this long, his body seemingly refusing to age along with the years. For now, he does his best not to complain about it anymore, but time is a fickle thing, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can take. He’s lost so much, friends, family, his homes, and his first love. He’s not quite sure how much longer he can take, or how much longer fate plans to keep him around for.

One fine spring day, he finds out why.

He’s just come back from the morning haul when he sees some new faces at the pier. A new family has just moved to the coastline.

However, one face appears so familiar, he has to do a double take.

When he spots you, his breath gets stolen from his lungs, and he nearly falls over the edge of his boat. His crew give him a few funny looks, but he ignores them, for there you stand, in all your glory.

You look exactly how he remembers you, hair exactly the same colour, same eyes. You even have the same brilliant smile that captivated him the first time he truly saw it. His heart nearly skips a beat as he watches you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear nervously. Looks like some things never change.

Thoughts race through his head as he docks, questioning how this could be possible. He watched you die, so how on earth could you be standing right before him once more, looking as beautiful as he remembers you to be. 

Well, considering he is an immortal, anything is possible.

Maybe this is fate giving him a second chance. A second chance with you. A second chance at love, and this time, he’s going to do it right.

Without wasting any time, and ignoring the questions thrown at him by his crew members, he makes his way over to where you’re standing. Stopping just before you, he notices you glancing at him with curious eyes, too polite to turn away from the girl you’re conversing with.

Once there’s a break in conversation, Yoongi takes his chance, using the opportunity to grab your attention as soon as he can.

“Hi there,” he sends you a friendly smile. “You must be new here, can I help you with anything?”

You smile back at him, and he swears it’s as if everything is right in the world.

“Uh, yes, actually,” you clear your throat, “my family and I have just moved here from further inland, and we were told that there’s a fisherman here by the name of Agust who sells fresh wares every morning around this time. Could you please point me in his direction as I have been instructed to buy some.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, then,” he bows. “I am who you seek, though I would prefer it if you called me Yoongi.”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry for any inconvenience,” you bow back, a beautiful heat rising to your cheeks. “My name is (Y/n), and the pleasure is all mine.”

The smile that takes over his face is wide, his eyes sparkling with a fondness only you could get from him. He watches as you bite your lower lip, eyes shyly avoiding his gaze, and his heart can’t help but skip a beat. This is his chance.

He motions for you to follow him back to his ship where his crew is sorting through the morning catch. He guides you on board and instructs you to pick out as many as you’d like to bring back to your family. He also tells you that he’ll have his crew package them up for you.

The whole time you’re on board his ship, Yoongi watches you. Your every movement is carefully observed, his heart racing every time you stop to look over at him. He can hardly believe this is real.

Once everything has been packaged nicely for you, he’s carrying everything to the edge of the dock. He wants to make a good first impression on you, wanting to make sure he’ll get to see you again soon. From the way you smile at him and tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, he knows he’s succeeded.

For the next few weeks, on every Friday morning, you return to the docks, buying fresh fish for your family. Each time Yoongi returns from the sea, he cannot help the large smile that breaks out onto his face when he sees you already standing on the dock, waiting for him to return with the morning catch. He even throws a few extras in once in a while; his subtle way of telling you that he can provide for you if you were to ever start a family together. His crew have started teasing him about it, but with one stern look from him, they stop.

It’s only after the fifth week does he gain the courage to ask you to dinner.

He tells you to come to his place at around seven in the evening. Before then, he has to make sure everything is perfect, especially if he wants to impress you.

He spends the entire afternoon cleaning and preparing for when you are to arrive for dinner. He makes sure his home is decorated accordingly, making sure the food is well prepped and everything is just right. After all, you deserve nothing but the best.

The moment he opens the door and sees you, his breath gets stolen from his lungs once more. You look stunning, and he can still hardly believe you’re standing before him.

Inviting you in, he makes sure to act like a gentleman the entire evening, taking your coat and hanging it on the rack, pulling out your chair for you, even going so far as to serve you during the meal. Everything is just perfect, and he could not be happier.

From that evening onwards, your relationship blooms from there. He makes sure to look after you in whatever ways he can, and soon, you’ve come to live with him at his house after he proposes.

The two of you are set to be married within the week, and both of you are anticipating the day with bated breath. 

Over time, Yoongi has found that his love for you has grown, and is stronger than ever. He’s also reassured that this is meant to be whenever he looks into your eyes after a long day and sees the same amount of tender love and fondness in his eyes reflected in your own. This, he believes, is what fate meant for him. You are his second chance.

It’s a cold December morning when Yoongi watches you collapse in the kitchen. His heart rate skyrocketing as he helps you to lay in bed, feeling your temperature rise through the roof as you start to cough up blood.

He’s about to run to the village to grab the local doctor before you stop him by grabbing his arm.

“No, please stay with me,” you cough, “you’re all I need.”

He stays, crawling into bed beside you to rest your head on his chest. After all, how could he ever refuse you?

He barely gets any sleep that night, instead fretting over your well being, and wanting to make sure you’re comfortable. Finally, he watches you relax, falling asleep around the early hours of the morning.

He wakes the next morning, an uneasy feeling settling into the pit of his stomach. Stirring slightly, he goes to check your temperature.

A frown etches itself across his face in worry as he feels you are significantly cooler than you were last night. Sitting up in bed, he shakes your shoulders slightly, doing whatever he can to rouse you from your sleep, already fearing the worst.

After the fourth desperate call of your name, a broken sob escapes his lips as he comes to realize what he feared had come to pass. You died in your sleep.

It was so sudden, this sickness that washed over you, infecting his happiness by taking you away from him once more. What a cruel twist of fate indeed, to have the one you love granted to you for a second chance, only to have them stripped away from you at the peak of happiness.

He cries. His sobs wracking his body mercilessly as he cries for you. His bottled up emotions also bubbling to the surface from the first time he lost you, realizing that this is the second time you have been unjustly taken from him.

His heart cracks at the thought of you being taken from him again, and this time while the two of you were together.

The second time he lost you, you died in his arms.

1692 CE

Deciding he needs a fresh start, Yoongi decides to leave the country. He’s tired of all the death and bad memories that surround him back home. 

Everywhere he looks, he sees you, but when he gets his hopes up, he watches them fall, every time. You’re no longer there, and he knows he needs to distract himself. To get away for a bit and not worry about his past any longer.

He shouldn’t keep waiting for you to reappear.

Getting off the ship at the new harbour, Yoongi takes in his surroundings for the first time since arriving. The scenery is fresh, something new.

He lets out a sigh. Grabbing his bags, he makes his way through town, searching for a somewhat decent place to stay.

It takes months for him to finally settle down, and when he does, he finds himself on the opposite coast as where he started. He manages to find a quaint little town and although a few of the locals seem to want to ignore his presence, treating him as a foreign species, there are quite a few who accept him. He even becomes close friends with the head of the town, holding sway over some not so friendly locals.

He had just been making his way back to his cabin from the local farmer’s place when he spots you, and he cannot help but to drop the cabbages that he had been holding.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he bends down to pick up his dropped cabbages, attempting to get his breathing under control.

“Are you alright?” Your voice startles him out of his thoughts, making him lose his balance and fall on his ass, dropping the cabbages he had managed to collect into his arms once more. “Oh, I beg your pardon, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He remains silent, staring at you with slightly wide eyes as you begin to help gather his fallen cabbages.

Shaking his head once more, he manages to find his voice, “it’s quite alright, it’s not your fault.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” you joke, watching as he stands back up, shaking his head all the while, “or a witch.”

At this, his breath gets caught in his throat, looking at you in slight panic, “don’t say that.”

“What? Scared someone might overhear me?” You quirk an eyebrow, looking around at the empty street before you as a grin pulls at your lips. “Or are you scared it might be true?”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes slightly, “you and I both know that’s not true. There are no such thing as witches, and you are most certainly not one of them.”

You stand there, shocked, blinking at him a few times at his bold words. A change in his demeanour since you’ve encountered him, and you kind of like it.

He manages to pull you out of your thoughts by taking his cabbages back into his own arms, making you shake your head this time.

“Name’s Yoongi, by the way,” he grunts, making sure he’s carrying the cabbages properly so as not to drop them again.

“(Y/n),” you smile at him, and he can feel his heart racing in his chest, “pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he smiles slightly back, happy to know he’s getting another chance to be with you again. Looks like fate really wants the two of you to be together after all.

He had encountered you only once more previously before now, and even that was a surprise. It had been a few hundred years ago, and you had met through a mutual friend. Things were going great, you got married again, and Yoongi thought that life was finally going to be in his favour.

That was, until he arrived home one day to see a note from you saying you had run off to be with some other man, stating you had fallen in love with someone else.

After reading that note Yoongi’s emotions had been all over the place, but beyond being extremely sad and upset, he was furious. How dare someone take you away from him! You are meant to be his.

He made a promise to himself the night that if he ever got the chance to make you his again, he would take it, and make sure he gave you no reason to run into the arms of another male ever again. If fate allows the two of you to keep meeting through time, then obviously the two of you are meant to be, and nothing, not even another man, is going to change that.

Another thing he told himself after that night was that if he did ever run into you again, it would be fate’s way of telling him that no matter what happens, he’d always get another chance. Considering this is his fourth time encountering you in his long life, he believes this to be true. Even if this time doesn’t work out, he’ll always get another chance. Granted, all the long years of waiting are starting to get to him. Why can’t the two of you just live together happily like fate intends?

Either way, he won’t stop until he has you. After all, he has all the time in the world.

“I take it you’re new to town? I haven’t seen you around here before,” Yoongi comments, wanting to keep the conversation going between the two of you. He just found you again, he doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet.

“Yes, actually,” you nod, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips, “my husband and I-“

“(Y/n)!” The call of your name draws both of your attention to the man now walking over to the two of you, and Yoongi swears his heart has stopped.

“Jungkook!” You greet happily, giggling slightly as he comes to loop his arm around your waist and place a gentle kiss onto your cheek. “This is Yoongi, a resident of the town whom I was just talking to.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Yoongi,” the man says, nodding in his direction.

“Likewise,” Yoongi nods back, doing his best to hide the malice in his tone.

“Well, we should get going,” you say. “It was nice talking with you, Yoongi. I hope to see you around soon.”

With a final smile his way, the two of you are turning around and walking away from him. He watches the two of you disappear behind a building before he lets a scowl take over his features.

You’re married! And to that scum, no less.

He thought he left Jungkook all those years ago back in the palace. Never did it once occur to him that it would be possible for Jungkook to be reincarnated. That was not supposed to happen.

Now, he needs to think of a way to get Jungkook out of the picture, and for you to come running into his arms once more. He knows for a fact that he’s the one you’re supposed to be with. Otherwise, why would fate give him so many do-overs and chances to be with you?

His brow furrows as he begins the rest of the walk back to his place. Could it be possible that the reason you left him last time was because you fell in love with another reincarnation of Jungkook?

His breathing picks up. More than likely, that’s exactly what happened. 

Looks like fate isn’t as kind to him as he originally thought. No matter, he’ll make sure to steal your heart away from your husband. After all, you’re his, not anyone else’s.

The next few weeks are spent hanging around the town, doing his best to at least become friends with you, and then hopefully, something more. Unfortunately for him, you seem to be deeply in love with Jungkook, again, and that fact bothers him to no end. It’s like he’s back in the palace, forced to watch the Prince and you live out your secret love, only this time, you don’t have to hide anything.

Whenever he seems to bump into you, Jungkook is not too far behind, which only causes him to become annoyed at the fact that he can never get any alone time. Luckily, he’s managed to actually become friends with the both of you, and he’s managed to invite the two of you over for dinner at his place this coming Friday evening. Even though it won’t just be the two of you, Yoongi can’t help but allow himself to indulge in that thought.

Sure enough, Friday evening rolls around and a knock sounds from the door.

Straightening his shirt, Yoongi quickly goes over to open the door and let the two of you in. What he doesn’t expect, is to just see you standing there with a somewhat nervous smile on your face.

“I apologize for Jungkook not being able to join us, he’s come down with something and the doctor advised him to stay at home and rest,” you tell him as he invites you inside.

“That’s quite alright,” he replies, and you fail to see the smirk that pulls at his lips as he shuts the door behind you. “I hope he gets well soon.”

For the entire evening, Yoongi is nothing but a kindhearted gentleman towards you, letting you know what you’re missing out on. He wants you to know that he can take better care of you, and care for you in so many more ways, than Jungkook can. You belong with him.

Currently, the two of you are sitting in his front room by the fire, sipping on some wine. He’s continuously made you laugh throughout the evening, and you have yet to stop complementing him on his home, and the meal he’s served you; you’ve yet to stop complementing him.

The whole time the two of you converse, Yoongi looks at you fondly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. This evening reminds him so much of the evenings he would spend with you beside the water after a long day at sea, and the way you are in this moment, sitting relaxed and opening up to him like this, makes him believe it even more. He knows you feel it too, how right this all seems. Like you’re meant to be here. Like you’re meant to be with him.

He takes this opportunity to move closer to you, wanting to minimize the distance between the two of you. He notices your eyes watching him, but you remain passive and relaxed, allowing for him to fill your glass with more wine as he comes to sit beside you now.

The two of you face each other, staring into each other’s eyes as a small comfortable silence surrounds the two of you. The soft glow from the fire reflects off of your features, making you glow in return, and Yoongi swears you only get more beautiful every time he sees you.

Throughout this encounter, he’s noticed that your mannerisms have changed slightly. You’re no longer as shy and reserved as you used to be, and that fact only makes Yoongi more attracted to you. He should come to expect small changes each time he encounters you, for even though it is you, you are not the you from all those years ago. He knows he’s definitely not the same man from all those years ago, as time has shaped him into who he is now. Change is good, and he’s just happy that he can be with you once more.

Ever so slowly, he begins moving closer to you. All night you’ve been sending him signals that you’re interested, and he’s hungry for whatever you’re willing to give him. After all, he’s waited for you for years.

He’s so caught up in the moment, and wanting to kiss you, that he doesn’t notice how wide your eyes have become, and how you’ve started to slowly lean back the further he leans into you. It’s only when you feel his lips on yours that you inhale sharply, your eyes wide open as his slip closed in bliss.

God, he’s missed the feeling of your lips pressed against his. The way you’d whisper his name in the middle of the night to the moon, whimpering as your nails dug into his back as he made love to you. The feel of you body, pressed against his in the most intimate of ways, becoming one with the other in the dead of night.

He’s violently snapped out of his thoughts when he feels you shove him off of you, with you quickly getting to your feet in the next moment. Your eyes hold nothing but rage and betrayal as you stare down at him, breathing heavily.

“How dare you,” your voice is low, like an oncoming storm. “I am a happily married woman, not some whore you can play around with. I don’t know what exactly you’re expecting to come from this, but do not contact me or my husband ever again.”

With those words, you’re storming out of the front door.

The slam of his door startles Yoongi out of his stunned state. He feels numb in this moment and all he keeps asking himself over and over again, is why? Why didn’t you kiss him back? Why would you storm out like that when you know you’re supposed to be together? Why would you fall in love with someone else?

His anger starts to grow as he realizes that the cause of all his problems is Jungkook. He’s the one that’s clouded your judgement and stolen you away, leaving Yoongi no choice but to dispose of the pest in his way.

Sipping on the rest of his wine, Yoongi sits there in his thoughts. His mind races with ideas of how to get Jungkook out of the picture, and you back into his arms. If he has to wait a few more years, then so be it. He’d wait an eternity if it meant the two of you being together in the end.

By the time the sun rises the next morning, Yoongi has a solid plan carefully thought out. He plans to put it into motion as soon as possible, and he knows just how to do that.

Last night allowed him to come to the realization that even though he managed to find you again, you’re not you entirely. You’ve been corrupted by that scum, and since Yoongi’s figured out that he’ll always be able to find you, maybe it would be best for the both of you to have a fresh start. He just has to make sure that the next time he finds you, he makes his move first before anyone else can get to you.

Making his way over to the head of town’s house, he smirks to himself. The town has been occupied with witches lately, and it’s his civilian duty to alert the authorities if he’s aware of any other witches hiding in the town.

Maybe the fire will help to cleanse your soul for the next reincarnation.

After a long conversation, and a lot of convincing, the head of town agrees that in the morning, you will be tried for being a witch. That is, unless something suspicious happens overnight. After all, how could a man, who is healthy beyond compare, and is supposedly well taken care of, suddenly fall ill?

That night, Yoongi sneaks into your house while you’re out. Since he’s lived for so long, he’s picked up a few tricks on breaking and entering, all the while being silent about it.

Moving around the house, he slowly makes it to the bedroom, noticing Jungkook sleeping soundly on the shared bed. That thought alone is enough to send a disgusted shiver down his own spine. No one should be able to share the same bed as you but him, let alone touch you.

Creeping around the side of the bed, Yoongi is carful not to wake Jungkook. Having him asleep while he works will make the start of his plan work so much smoother.

Reaching across his sleeping figure, Yoongi grabs one of your pillows. He can hardly stop himself from gently caressing the material and breathing in your scent before he’s positioning the pillow above Jungkook’s head, a malicious smirk coming to rest on his own lips.

In the next second, Yoongi brings the pillow down as hard as he can, using all his strength to suffocate Jungkook with it as Jungkook’s body wakes himself up and fights against the barrier.

“This is for taking her away from me for a second time, Prince,” Yoongi snarls, using his weight to hold Jungkook’s weak body down.

Once Jungkook has finally stopped struggling, Yoongi carefully removes the pillow, breathing heavy as he takes in the sight before him.

Blank eyes stare back at him, looking slightly hollow due to the sickness that had plagued Jungkook before death. Jungkook’s skin is sickly pale, his mouth open in a silent attempt to gasp for air.

Shaking his head, Yoongi clears his thoughts. He needs to do this, for the both of you. So that you can finally be together, happily. Forever.

Working quickly, Yoongi unsheathes the blade he has hidden in his boot, drawing slashes across Jungkook’s body, as well as a pentagram on his chest. By the time he’s done, blood covers his hands, and he scowls at the mess.

One of the only reasons he didn’t just stab Jungkook in the first place was because he didn’t want to make a huge mess. Besides, he wanted Jungkook to suffer, and there was a chance that he could have taken the knife to attack Yoongi back, despite being in a weak state. The last thing Yoongi wanted to do was give his victim a weapon to defend himself with.

With one final look over his work, Yoongi nods to himself, leaving the scene of the crime as quietly as he entered, a deadly smirk resting on his features. He knows you’re going to arrive back home in about an hour, so he needs to clean himself up fast if he wants to make sure everything goes according to plan.

Exactly one hour later, you arrive home. 

Hearing nothing from upstairs, your brow furrows, thinking it odd that you don’t even hear your husband coughing at all.

Making your way upstairs, you open the door to your bedroom, thinking Jungkook to be asleep, but what you see has a scream of horror leaving your throat.

In the next moment, you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over your own two feet as you see Jungkook spread out on the bed with symbols carved all over his body, red with his blood. 

Another shriek escapes your lips as you flee from the scene of the crime and into the streets, screaming for someone to help you.

By now, most of your neighbours have stepped out onto their porches to see what all the commotion is about. You continue running frantically through the streets, begging for someone to help you, to help Jungkook.

Once you spot the head of the town walking towards you, you run up to him, failing to notice who walks beside him.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here,” your words are frantic, almost coming out jumbled. “Someone has murdered my beloved Jungkook.”

Yoongi scowls at your words, grip tightening on the lantern he holds. He overhears the head of town say he’s going to take a look inside your house before moving off to inspect the scene of the crime.

Now, a large crowd has gathered around the front of your house with all the commotion you’ve caused, some of them looking at you in your frantic state with pity, and others with fear. Most wondering what could have possibly happened.

As soon as the head of town comes out of your house, he’s locking eyes with Yoongi, a silent spoken agreement between them. Though seeing you in this distressed state pains him, Yoongi knows that this will all be worth it in the end, and he can’t help the sly smile that crosses his features as he hears the head of town sigh in disappointment.

“She’s a witch,” He states, turning a harsh glare onto you and causing the people to gasp in shock. “She’s bewitched one of our very own, then murdered her husband in cold blood for ritualistic purposes!”

“Witch!” A townsperson gasps, startled and frightened.

“Burn her!” Another shouts as you’re grabbed by two of the men standing closest to you.

“Unhand me, I am no witch!” You begin to thrash in their hold. “My husband has just been murdered, and you accuse me of being a witch? How preposterous!”

You begin to plead your case as the townspeople drag you to the very centre of town, condemning you before you can even have a trial. Yoongi has found that fear can be a very strong motivator, and based on what has been going on recently in the town, it wouldn’t take much convincing for the townspeople to believe you’re a witch.

“Bring wood and oil,” the head of town commands, and immediately people are moving off to gather the appropriate supplies to burn the witch at the stake.

Your pleas fall on deaf ears as they bind your hands and tie you to the stake, laying wood at your feet. You manage to lock eyes with Yoongi, and your anger flares.

“You!” You seethe. “You did this to me! I know you killed him! You couldn’t stand the thought of me not wanting you so you killed my beloved Jungkook, you monster!”

All he can do is shake his head. This isn’t you. You’re supposed to thank him for breaking the spell, not condemn him. He did this for you.

Maybe the hold Jungkook had over you was indeed too strong. Maybe this will be a good thing. No matter how much Yoongi’s heart hurts for you, he must remain passive. You’ll return to him again, and this time, this time he’ll do everything right.

Once all preparations are complete, the head of town reads you the final verdict for a witch. Guilty.

The sun begins to peak over the horizon as the fire is lit beneath your feet, the glow of the flames dancing across your skin as the first of the sun’s rays hit the ground.

Your screams of pain cause a lone tear to escape his eye. His heart clenching as he hears you cry out for that scum in your final moments.

He hates this, but it’s something he had to do. It breaks his heart that he had to go through with it though, but he knows, it’s only a matter of time before you’re destined to meet again. However, maybe this gift of eternal life, which he originally thought was a blessing, is in reality, a curse.

Present Day

It took years for him to find you again, and once he did, he could not believe his luck.

He had just about given up looking for you when he decided to download this new dating app his so-called ‘friends’ had been mentioning. He had spent about thirty minutes just swiping through it once he had completed setting up his profile, until he came across your image.

Needless to say he nearly dropped his phone once he saw you again. You always seem to pop up when he least expects it.

Without thinking too much about it, he quickly scans through your profile to make sure it is indeed you, and once he confirms it is, he swipes right.

He nearly drops his phone again once he sees he’s immediately matched with you.

A smirk crosses his features as he opens up the chat option in the app. Of course you would match with him. How could you not? After all, you’re meant to be with each other, and after waiting this long to find you again, he’s not going to let you go so easily.

The two of you get to talking shortly after that, and soon, the two of you are going on your first date. Yoongi could not be happier, since you seem very excited to finally meet him in person. He’s just excited to see you again after all these years, and this time, there’ll be no setbacks.

You agree to go see a movie, and then grab dinner afterwards. 

The whole time, Yoongi can barely keep his eyes off of you. Again, he swears you get even more beautiful every time he sees you, and it looks like you’ve regained the habit of biting your lower lip. A fact that sets his heart racing in his chest.

Months pass, and the two of you grow closer, going on dates here and there, and eventually, making things official between the two of you. 

Again, Yoongi could not be happier. You’re finally his, with nothing for him to worry about.

That is, until that scum makes a reappearance.

As soon as he sees the two of you together, he grows suspicious. He knows that there must be something going on between the two of you. However, he lets the two of you pretend to be sneaky about it before he’ll intervene. He only just got you back, he’s not going to lose you again.

It takes exactly one month for him to crack and confront you about Jungkook. You deny that there’s anything going on between the two of you, stating that you’re just friends and that Yoongi should trust you more. 

He does, it’s just Jungkook he doesn’t trust. The last thing he wants is for you to be taken away from him again, falling into Jungkook’s trap once more.

That following week, Yoongi nearly goes ballistic on Jungkook when he arrives to pick you up from campus only to watch as Jungkook kisses you suddenly. Even if you do shove him off of you and run to Yoongi’s car, he has to be sure it isn’t just an act, and that you haven’t fallen under Jungkook’s spell.

He can’t lose you again.

Which brings you to your current situation.

There you sit, tied to a chair in an old warehouse, placed beside Jungkook who is in a similar situation as you. Yoongi paces in front of the two of you, a gun held in his one hand as he recounts the story of his life.

One thing’s for sure, he’s batshit crazy.

“So you see why I have to do this,” Yoongi says, turning to face the two of you once more, a crazed look in his eyes as he stares the two of you down. “I- I have to be sure.”

“Yoongi, you expect me to believe whatever the fuck it is you just told us? That you’re over a thousand years old and that I’m some reincarnation of someone you fell in love with years ago, and Jungkook-“ you pause to take a breath, “Jungkook was a Prince?”

“Yes,” Yoongi replies, blinking at you as if that solves everything with his simple answer.

“You’re crazy, man,” Jungkook grunts, tugging at his restraints. “Let us go!”

“No! I’m not losing her again!” Yoongi’s voice is frantic, panicked as he shakes his head. “Not ever. Not to you! Not to anyone or anything!”

“Yoongi, this is insane! We need to get you some help, please untie us,” you plead, and he can feel his heart pang in his chest once more at the look you’re giving him.

“Baby, please, you’ve got to believe me,” he begs, looking deep into your eyes. “You know I would never lie to you.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore!” You say, biting your lip to hold back your emotions. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you attempt to free yourself from your restraints, similar to Jungkook, but it’s useless. They won’t budge. “If what you say is true, then you had me burnt at the stake, and all because you claim to ‘love’ me!”

“I already told you, I had to do it so we could be together now,” Yoongi sighs, almost frustratedly. “He stole you away from me, and I couldn’t get you back. Until now.”

“That’s insane! I was married to him, apparently, meaning I was never yours in the first place!” You shout, voice gradually growing louder with each word you speak.

“Don’t say that! Don’t ever say that! You are mine, and nothing is going to change that fact,” he growls out, eyes narrowing at your figure as he stares you down.

“Okay, clearly he’s a lot more deranged than we thought,” Jungkook mutters, but Yoongi still manages to hear him.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Yoongi spit, getting right up into Jungkook’s face and resting the barrel of the gun on Jungkook’g forehead.

“You know, I would have thought you learned your place back in the palace, but it looks like you still don’t realize anything,” Jungkook stares down at Yoongi with almost pity in his eyes.

“Jungkook, what the fuck are you saying?” Your eyes are wide as you look at him in shock.

“You really think fate kept you alive all these years just so you could have another chance with her?” Jungkook scoffs. “I have no idea why you’re still alive, but the two of us are meant to be together, hence why we keep reincarnating. However, only I regain my memories each time, cause you keep getting in the way.”

“Do you really think you’re that special?” Yoongi quirks a brow, pressing the gun harder into Jungkook’s head.

“Do you?” Jungkook counters.

“Jungkook, what the fuck are you saying?” You stare at him with eyes that are pleading for him to make some sense.

“What he said about us being reincarnations of past lives is true,” Jungkook sighs, glancing at you out of the corner of his eyes. “However, you’re not supposed to end up with him each time. We’re supposed to meet in each new life to live it out with each other. That is what fate intended, not this.”

“That’s it, I’m tired of you filling her head with lies,” Yoongi snarls, standing up to his full hight and pulling the trigger of the gun, causing you to scream out as you watch Jungkook’s head lull to the side, blood seeping from the bullet wound in his skull.

“What did you do?” You shriek, struggling even harder to get free from your bonds as Yoongi closes the distance between the two of you.

“What I had to,” Yoongi answers, voice firm as he cups your face in his one hand despite your attempts to move away. “Now we can be together without worrying about him interfering.”

The smile he gives you is deranged and horrifying, setting your heart racing in your chest. To think you would have trusted this man with your life a few days ago. However, now you truly know what a psychopath he is.

“I finally have you, after years of searching,” he coos, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I won’t let anything happen to you, I can’t lose you again. Now that I have you, I’m never letting you go again. You’re mine. Now and forever.”

[chaoswriting92]

Games We Shouldn’t Play

Chapter 3: I’m not okay I promise

You were waiting to hear the painfully familiar buzz when the worst possible thing could have happened. 

“Y/n? What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since… well anyway I am so sorry you had to find out like that. I told Jin he should have come clean about it and I really hate that…” The buzz cut her off and you rushed inside heading for the elevator only belatedly remembering she had to ride up with you.

“So… what are you doing here?” She asked as we waited for the elevator to go up to the correct floor.

“Meeting Jaebeom.”

“Oh right the runway show is coming up so you must be needing to go over the tracks with him and the client, right?”

“Nope.”

“Then for the new ad campaign? Jin told me that you had a new shoot coming that Jimin had lined up for V. Did you need a female model for that one? My schedule’s empty this week.” She said positive that it had to be business because apparently, in her mind, if Jaebeom hadn’t liked her, there was no possible way he’d want you.

“No. I don’t need a female for that one. It is a men’s shoot for Dazed and JB and I have already finalized the tracks for the Runway show and for that shoot, but thanks for asking.” You managed to keep your voice professional  not wanting to tell her what you were really doing there and grateful that Jin’s apartment was two floors up from JB even if there was a possibility she was going to tell him she had seen you. The elevator doors finally opened and you could swear you heard the hallelujah chorus.

“It was good seeing you Hyeji.” 

“You too y/n. Tell Jaebeom I said hi, okay?”

The doors shut behind you and you scrunched your nose in distaste mimicking her voice. 

“Tell Jaebeom I said hi, O- dear Jesus! Jimin, Hi.” You jumped and slammed your elbow into the wall, hissing in pain and biting down on your lip to keep from cursing, when you realized you weren’t alone in the hallway. 

“Hi, Y/n. You okay?” He nodded in the direction of your elbow which you were rubbing at to sooth the bruising ache away.

“Yeah, fine. How have you been? I haven’t exactly been on the marketing floor since Jin and I… anyway thanks for setting up that photoshoot for Taehyung.”

“No problem. So what are you doing on this floor?” Oh great not him too. You thought.

“I came to visit JB.” 

“Oh. Does Jin know?”

“I’m sure Hyeji will tell him. I rode up with her.”

“You know he didn’t mean to hurt you, right? I mean I know what it looks like and I’m not saying any of this is right, but Jin, he’s not… he’s not a bad guy.”

“Jimin I know that, but that kind of makes it worse. I’m late so I’ll catch you later.” You went down the hall giving a small smile to Yoongi where he was bringing his laundry back into his room and knocked on JB’s door.

“I was beginning to think you got lost,” he joked smiling until he saw the deflated look on your face.

“What happened?” He asked looking around trying to figure out what could’ve made you so sad in the twenty minutes it had taken to get from your apartment to his.

“I ran into Hyeji on the elevator and then Jimin in the hall.”

“Should we have met at your place?”

“No, I am going to have to get used to this. If we are going to be really committing to this thing then I need to be seen with you. By everyone. Half of this is supposed to be proving I’ve moved on too, right?” 

  “Did Jasmine decide she was going to grill you about last night after all?" JB asked you when you pulled out your phone. 

     "Uh... No. It's just work emails. It can wait until Monday. Where did you want to go for breakfast? I know of a great Bingsu place a few stops down from my apartment." He seemed to think about it for a minute. You started to just say forget it and suggest that you two just go to a bakery or a cafe for a normal breakfast when he finally spoke. 

     "Dessert for breakfast, I like it. Let's go."

     It was surprisingly easy being on Jaebeom's arm. He had an easy way about himself that put you at ease too. It helped that he was the type of person who knew how to laugh at himself even in the face of being such a handsome guy. He was the opposite of Seokjin in so many different ways. Seokjin had sometimes seemed too aware of the fact he was beautiful and had needed verbal reassurance of the fact often so his insecurity was kept bay; Jaebeom, despite being reminded through compliments, and Jackson fawning over him in the way only a stylist could, seemed to be oblivious to it or just not care. Hell, he'd recently pierced under his eye only to take it out a few months later because he was bored with the look of it and this morning had been filled with talk of him redying his hair blue now that it had grown out. 

     "Really though if I don't dye the roots do you think it will still look good? Here, have a bite of this." He held a spoonful of Bingsu out so you could try it. 

     "Mmm, oh my god," you mumbled around the mouthful of fruit and shaved ice. The different flavors were a perfect match to one another and completely different to the matcha and chocolate you had chosen.

     "Here, bite." You gave him a spoonful of yours before speaking again. 

     "If you want my honest opinion I think as long as you wear it with confidence anything looks good on you. Even that God awful blonde with the orange bang clip you wore in college. You looked like a banana but a very cute banana. I also think the fact you're dying your own hair is going to drive Jackson and Sooran nuts so I say go for it." 

     He seemed to think about it for a while and after finishing off a strawberry at the bottom of the Bingsu he finally came to a decision. 

"Will you help me after this then?"

"Yeah sure."

      Sunday unlike the day before had been spent alone staring at your phone as it rang and wondering if you should just bite the bullet and answer Jin. Maybe you'd cry. Maybe you'd yell at him and demand for the answers to why or what you weren't sure. Maybe you'd be cruel and make up fallacies about how JB was ten times better in every way so that he could feel the hurt and inadequacy you'd felt this entire time. In the end you'd done none of those things. You chose to cry on your own and stare listlessly at the phone hoping to some God it would just die so you didn't have to hear it anymore. 

     You'd foolishly been drinking in the feeling of being around JB and thought maybe you were getting past the whole Seokjin thing, but when faced with your own thoughts and the reality that two days couldn't mend three years going to waste you just felt stupid... and sad. Why didn't he just give up? Clearly he was still seeing Hyeji. He couldn't honestly think continuously calling was going to do anything. Could he? You were contemplating this when a loud and very insistent knocking rattled your door. 

     "Y/n. Open up please," Jin's voice called despairingly on the other side of the door you didn't answer, but you waited by the door holding your breath and wondering what he'd do.  You watched out of the little peep hole where he paced then raised his arm up like he'd knock again in the end deciding against it and walking away. You slumped down to the floor feeling a familiar friend bump up against the side of your arm. Gureum.

 "I know buddy. He left us both, but we still have each other and we don't need that stinky man. Isn't that right Gureumie." You started cooing at him and he purred loudly nuzzling into the ear scritches and batting at your hand every time you tried to stop petting him. 

     Monday came and your head was pounding when the alarm went off. You groaned rolling out of the bed and shuffling your feet a little to get them to fit into the slippers they’d landed on top of when you stood up. You walked over to the closet and rubbed at your eyes looking through the different colors and styles of clothes wondering which you should wear. Something comfortable and neutral that didn’t really take much thought, or something eye catching that would show everyone that  you were fine. 

     You thought you were past the facades and the lying and that you really were almost fine before yesterday. Something about just having Seokjin at your door and acting like he still loved you was different from all the phone calls and texts in the world. Probably the fact you couldn’t delete a person. Couldn’t ignore a voice that was attached to a person and not a machine. Couldn’t escape the words shouted at you through your apartment door. It was like having the place that was supposed to be a haven away from the outside world turn into a cage that trapped you in all of your insecurities and Jin was the one who locked you in.  Your phone let out a small chime and you hesitated before turning around to grab it letting out a sigh of relief when you saw whose name was lighting up on your lockscreen.

You threw your phone back on the bed and went back to your closet flipping through hangars until your hands landed on a two piece black dress and a wrap asymmetrical blazer combination with ruched 3 / 4 length sleeves and gold button details on the left shoulder and slanting diagonally across the abdomen to seal it closed.  It was one of your newest creations and one you hadn’t shown anyone yet. You slipped the dress on and buttoned the blazer in place pairing it with a pair of black ankle boots with gold buckle accents to match.

True to his word Jaebeom was knocking on your door right at seven and you were fixing your hair and makeup into place. You went to open the door a few moments later and noticed Jasmine loitering around outside talking with him. His back was turned full focus on whatever conversation they’d been having. You hoped it was about work and not about yesterday. You honestly didn’t know if Jasmine even knew about what happened yesterday hopefully she’d been out. 

“-Yeah, no JB I didn’t even know he ca- Wow.” Jasmine stopped mid sentence and JB immediately turned around. For a moment your breath caught in your throat. Jaebeom’s eyes had started from the top of your head roaming all down your body to the sensible boots at the bottom and back up until they met your eyes the two of you stayed like that for a minute. JB looked like he wanted to say something but he also seemed just as speechless as you were.

“New dress?” Jasmine saved you both from the awkward silence. You’d honestly forgotten for a moment she was standing there but you turned to her and smiled, trance broken. 

“Yeah I finished it last month. Been sitting in my closet ever since. I was going to give it to Hye- one of the models, but I think I’m going to keep it.” You gave a slow turn and she whistled and nodded in approval.

“Looks better on you anyway. Right JB?” Jasmine said. 

“What? Oh. Yeah. She looks… I mean you look stunning, Y/n” He said and smiled.

“Aren’t you glad you went on that date Friday now?” Jasmine taunted both of you and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up. Let’s just get out of here before we’re late for work,” you chastised.

The ride to work was quiet. Music playing over the radio and you lost in your own thoughts about everything, yesterday, this morning, what was going to happen at work when you got there. You may not have shown this exact dress to anyone but Hyeji had seen the design sketches before you’d started on it and mentioned that she’d love to wear it when it was made. Maybe that was why you’d chosen it. You knew she’d wanted the dress and after hearing what JB had to say about everything she’d done you’d decided that being petty in some small way was more than deserved. Maybe, though, you’d worn the dress for the look on Jaebeom’s face when he’d turned around this morning. He’d looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Then he looked at you like he’d give anything for Jasmine to get lost and the two of you to be late for work… extremely late. 

“You ready for this?” JB asked as he pulled the car into his space in the parking deck drawing you out of your thoughts which had strayed to the idea of what the two of you would be doing if you had decided to just let Jasmine go and be late.

“I think so. Are you?” 

Now that it was here you were second guessing if what you and JB had decided on wasn’t completely crazy and if you should just call it off but he scooped your hand in his and kissed the back of it smoothing off the chapstick imprint with his thumb. 

“Come on,” He said letting go of your hand only to come around and open your door. You had to go outside and around to the front of the building to get in and when you got past the revolving door he settled in beside you with an arm over your shoulder like it was perfectly natural to be there. 

“Hey Y/n, JB how was your weekend?” Bambam had walked up and was already carrying a tablet which meant he was about to get to business talk after the pleasantries.

“It was ok. What you got? Ad campaign or something that needs an audio overlay?” you asked, holding your hand out for the tablet.

“Audio.” 

“And that would be you.” You passed the tablet to JB.

“You trying to get rid of me already?” He took it and hit play on the video that Bambam and his team had made and you could already see the gears turning and hear him humming a little of a few different songs. It was incredibly endearing and you could feel yourself smiling as the three of you walked towards the elevator that would take you to your respective floors.

“Y/n!” You looked up from where you were waiting for the doors to open and saw Jin walking in with Jimin, Taehyung and Namjoon.

“I’m just gonna take the stairs.” You started to walk off but JB caught your hand.

“It’s okay. We talked about this, trust me,” He whispered into your ear. He was right. The two of you had talked about it. How it was going to be hard to face Jin and the others today as your hands had washed through his hair and soaked the dye into it. Your fingers were still a little blue around the cuticles but his hair looked great. You thought back to how much fun Friday and Saturday had been and took a deep breath. He promised to stick this out with you. The least you could do now was what you promised. You nodded. 

“Y/n can I talk to you.” 

“Why don’t you go talk to Hyeji instead.” Bambam muttered.

“I’m sorry, is there a problem here?” Jin snapped.

“Yes Seokjin there is.” about that time the elevator dinged and opened up.

“Bambam,” You shook your head and he gave you a look like, ``Are you serious?” and you nodded. Your hand was still being held by JB’s and you had noticed him squeeze it once or twice in solidarity but he hadn’t said anything. He looked like he wanted to though. He looked like he wanted to push Jin out of the elevator to when he’d climbed on. Namjoon was off first as he worked on the accounting floor. Taehyung was off next shooting conflicted looks to both you and Seokjin but he shook his head and let out a sigh before stepping out. Jimin would be riding all the way up with you and  Jin unless Jin kicked him off with JB and BamBam who were going to the media floor. You half thought of getting off with the two of them yourself and making some excuse like the video they were working on was for one of your photo shoots, but you couldn’t do that either. 

When it hit JB and Bambam’s floor Bambam shoved his way out of the back annoyed and looked to JB. 

“I’ll see you in the studio, okay? Deadline is at eleven.”

“I already figured out the track we just need to overlay it so it will be done way before that. I’ll see you at lunch, beautiful.” He turned to face you hooking the elevator door with his foot so it wouldn’t close and kissed you on the cheek. You nodded and reluctantly let go of his hand. As the door shut you could hear Bambam speaking to JB.

“Why didn’t you-” the doors cut the sound off and it stayed quiet for a moment. Jin was the first to break the silence.

“Hyeji told me she saw you at the apartments the other day.” 

“Hyeji should learn to keep out of things.” You replied.

“That’s not fair. The two of you were friends.”

“Were friends Jin. Then she reminded me why you don’t befriend just anyone in this industry.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think I’ll let you ask her.” The elevator door dinged open on your floor and you stepped off. Jin followed grabbing you by the arm.

“Seokjin let me go.”

“No. You have been avoiding me for weeks. We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk, Jin. Not yet. Can you please just go now?” You tried to wrench your arm loose, but he still had a grip on it.

“Let her go and go back to your floor right now or I swear I will file workplace harassment.” Jasmine came over followed quickly by Mark, Jungkook and a few of the other staff. Jungkook put a hand on Seokjin’s arm and Jin seemed to visibly blink out of the anger and frustration he had before looking at his hand like it belonged to someone else then up to your eyes.

“Shit, Y/N I’m sorry.” He let go and went to the elevator hitting the button so he could leave.  

“Are you okay?” Jasmine wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tears leaked out of your eyes. Your breathing hitched and you shook your head.

“No. No Jazzie I’m not.” 

[fiddle-styx]

on-going jikook fics

come and enjoy that wonderful moment of receiving an update notification

psa: i am sharing these wonderful stories because i love them and they deserve more recognition. please do not hassle the authors about updates because it is a terrible feeling and they don’t deserve that. we can just enjoy the wonderful anticipation of updates and share love for stories together!

go tell these authors how amazing their stories are instead!

(my tastes are all over the place, so enjoy variety too)

college/uni au and/or social media aus:

International playboy (don't answer) by blt_prf | 119k, 21chp oH I FUCHKED UP I FU UCKED UP YOUR'E NOT NAMJOON yeah what I've been trying to tell you or the one in which Jimin manages to mess up everything in one night and accidentally texts the guy he has a crush on

HIM by blt_prf | 99k, 14/16chp Jungook falls in love with the color red when he sees Jimin. Every single time a little bit more. In which Jimin has motion sickness and travels way too much, Jungkook is good at everything but relationships and Taehyung simply wants everyone to be happy. Hoseok and Yoongi are a mess, Namjoon takes too many philosophy classes and Jin makes sure nobody gets arrested. Everyone's in love and no one wants to grow up.

travel au:

until then, sink slowly by flitter | 46k, 8chp After a breakup, Jimin needs to get away. He ends up in Santorini, 5.4k miles away from home, eager to distance himself from anything remotely related to love. Too bad fate has other plans, in the form of a tour guide named Jungkook.

magic/supernatural aus:

Maelstrom by Charmander | 6k, 1/8chp It's been one year since Jungkook ran away with the circus, one year since he learned of the angel blood that runs through his veins. He thought he had learned everything about the supernatural world by now, but he's barely even touched the surface of its darkness. series here: Silk

a room inside your heart (you'll be okay here) by ohbutter | 26k, 2/3chp “Hyung, there’s something horribly, horribly wrong here.” “I’d say so, yes. You destroyed our bathroom.” Jimin mhms. “Right… why though?” All Jimin can manage is, “Orange.” Yoongi nods slowly, “Yes Jimin, orange.” “Green.” Now Namjoon and Jin are huddled behind Yoongi, peering inside. Jimin sits up and sees Namjoon’s cotton candy pink hair. “What’s the date today?” “December 18th 2016.” alternatively: jimin wakes up two years in the past, he has horrendous orange hair, his friends are in love and here, so is he

The Art of Drowning by Kookies_N_Jams | 45k, 22chp Jeon Jungkook doesn't want to die; he's just tired of living. Park Jimin is surrounded by death, but all he wants is to live. When their worlds collide, everything changes.

For and Against Us by thefifth | 18k, 11chp Jungkook trusts fate. Jimin? Not so much.

idol/celebrity aus:

Faking It by little_star_in_the_universe | 16k, 6chp "Jungkook, are you listening to me?" "Yeah." "You're lying." - Jungkook is tired. He's tired of being told what to say, what to do, how to act, how to respond, how to write his own fucking music. He's tired of it all. All he wants is a break. He doesn't expect to find someone who'd be more of a break than being home with his parents.

depth of field by petrichorian | 30k, 4chp “You’re seriously telling me you just spontaneously took a hella good picture of Suga and now you’re being called Jeongguk masternim?” or Jeon Jeongguk accidentally becomes Suga's new popular fansite, makes famous friends and tries to avoid how much he wants to kiss BTS' maknae, Park Jimin. 

The Last of Them All by dglrd | 9k, 13chp dyspraxia [/dɪsˈpraksɪə/]: a developmental disorder of the brain in childhood causing difficulty in activities requiring coordination and movement. in which jungkook has to juggle the difficulties of having dyspraxia and being an idol at the same time.

The Voice by Pinkworld | 25k, 6chp Jimin is a veteran ASMRtist, spreading the tingles through Youtube. He never shows his face. He's been low-key (Taehyung: I'm pretty sure drooling falls under HIGH-key, dude) interested in Jeongguk, a popular cover artist on Youtube. Completely against his confident character, Jimin doesn't find courage to reach out and just stalks Jeongguk's channel and instagram for a year. They finally get to messaging each other (Thank you Taehyung and Jin), then texting, then talking.... and that's when it gets a bit problematic...

smut focused:

Switch It by ashina | 75k, 17chp this is a series where jungkook and jimin are fucking. how original.

the chains that bind us by busanpjm | 19k, 3chp “You are not simply some flashy accessory, Jeonggukie. You are mine to use as I wish as long as I want. Whether you are twenty or forty; it makes no difference. You are that lithe and lewd slum mongrel who fawns on no one, and I am the slave knight of Midas who holds the chains to your collar. How could you imagine I would let you go at this juncture?” Jeongguk, a slum mongler and Jimin, an elite, find themselves wrapped up in a relation neither of them could have seen coming. or the Ai no kusabi au with a hint of something else and more.

soulmates au:

hard candy by jiminlogy | 25k, 8chp Jimin douses himself in colours every day and then he meets black and white. 

Shatter Me by lostinjungkook | 19k, 16chp »There were things Jungkook wanted to tell Jimin. But he knew they would hurt his hyung. So he buried them inside and let them hurt him instead.« 19 year old Jungkook lives in a world where 25% of the world population is born with a soulmate mark on their wrist and supernatural powers running through their veins. But he never had a chance to see the beauty that the world bears as he grew up in the fangs of Omega, a facility led by humans who try everything to create the strongest inhuman possible. What will happen when he meets six boys in the middle of the woods and discovers his soulmate among them?

abo dynamics:

Howl by Ravennest | 17k, 4chp Taehyung was convinced wherewolves existed — he only had to prove it to his best friend Jimin then he’d get bragging rights for years! But he never expected to be one of the wolves mate.

let me love you by Thejenn | 12k, 2chp the one where jungkook is shamelessly in love with his shy mate jimin

Guide Books are for Suckers--or Life is Like Trying to Build a Lego Death Star, but Some Fucker Burned the Instruction Book For lols by Momochii | 26k, 7/9chp He never expected to be an alpha. He also never expected to present in the middle of dance practice. He definitely never planned for what would happen if he, maybe, accidentally, tried to claim his best friend only seconds after presenting—in the middle of fucking dance practice. But hey, predictability is over-rated, right?

Leave Your Mark by snarcsics | 112k, 7/15chp Out of the three patients within Namjoon's lab, Jungkook is the one Jimin finds the most frightening, yet shamelessly intriguing. Even as a beta, there’s something distinctly animalistic about Jungkook that does not bode well for Jimin.

mafia au:

The Fire Was Screaming Out Your Name (And I Watched You Burn) by JungkookieBiased | 8k, 4chp “Jungkook...come here." Jimin crossed one leg over the other, arms folded across his chest. The taller male strode over in two long strides, head bowed down. Jimin tilted his chin up and Jungkook followed the movement like Jimin was controlling a puppet with a twitch of his fingers. Jimin leaned in right beside his ear, "Eliminate him." OR Jeon Jungkook belongs to him. Jeon Jungkook lives for him. Park Jimin, the most feared mafia leader, belongs to him just as much but won't say so.

spiderman au:

little do you know (i love you 'til the sun dies) by stellars | 7k, 1/2chp jeongguk is spiderman and everytime he comes back from one of his adventures, he goes to jimin to get patched up, spinning white lies about how he's out saving kittens from getting run over.

cute/fluffy/domestic/smut:

A Wicked Miniseries by Charmander | 30k, 4chp A collection of moments and flashbacks from Jimin’s and Jungkook’s life together; from back road street racer and tired, night shift police officer to spoiled, domestic boyfriends. series here: Chase Me, Race Me, Taste Me 

tattoo au:

Damp nights by vanillajae | 20k, 5chp Two years later and history repeats itself. Jungkook pops back into Jimin’s life on a rainy day under a bus stop, and whether Jimin wants it or not the storm is back. series here: Thunderstorms

some ot7!

A Hint of Magik. by moonchildleigh | 35k, 7chp Jeon Jeongguk is the son of two powerful evil Warlocks. He's lived his whole life in Busan inside the Warlock community, and hasn't come into contact with anyone else in the Magik world. This changes, however, when his parents are arrested and jailed for the murder of a Witch. Being the son of two of the most dangerous people in the magical community, The Council of Magik has to decide what to do with him. Jeongguk isn't like other Warlocks though, as he doesn't have the Calling to darkness like the rest. He's abnormal. His fate seems sealed, until two interesting men show up at his court hearing and demand to adopt him. or Ot6 lives in an enchanted forest in America and take young Warlock Jungkook into their home because they're absolute sweethearts.

Late Bloomer by LulaWrites | 91k, 25/26chp Given that he’d made it into adulthood without having ever experienced any dynamic-related instincts or pre-heat symptoms, Jungkook (and the rest of society) had naturally assumed the maknae was a Beta. Turns out they were wrong. (Or, the one where Jungkook goes into heat unexpectedly and subsequently gets coddled by his affectionate hyungs.) The Last of Them All by dglrd

[sithroyal]

my muses is dead. tell me how yours is dealing with it.

After everything they had survived, maybe she’d made the mistake of thinking he was invincible. If not him, then at least that one deep part of him that always managed to come home to her, no matter how difficult it was. It seemed silly that after clawing their way out of an overturned ocean liner & the entire litany of experiences since that something like this could ever happened. There were protocols in place, PRECAUTIONS, & yet somehow, someone out there had done the unthinkable & managed to throw Kylo Ren off during an interrogation. tough talk for someone with such a vulnerable little secret. it had been the one time Leia hadn’t stood in his way, letting him leave to race to the house in D.C. except she hadn’t been there. The timing… their entire relationship was founded on such precarious timing & finally it had run out. 

She’d been standing outside on the pavement, barefoot & clutching Chewie’s leash when she’d seen the Jeep pull in, but he hadn't heard her. By the time she realized she was screaming, the house had gone up in flames. She… doesn’t remember all that much after that. The fire, the frantic paramedics. Ben. Ben. He hadn’t made it out - even as they combed through the wreckage, she had already known the truth. Somewhere over the next few days, she’d made it back up to New York, vague promises to check in on her & hollow words of sympathy ringing in her ears that she tuned out, finding her own comfort in the silence of her now-empty apartment.

It was a closed casket funeral. Of course it was - there hadn’t even been enough found in the explosion. She’s not sure what strings had been pulled but despite them not being married, she was allowed to handle the paperwork as best she could, pulling little details from her memory & feeling like she was pulling out pieces of her own soul with every written letter, but it got done exactly as she hoped he would have wanted. He was buried with full honors, & while his mother was present, the flag was presented to her. Then just like that, it was over, & she was alone all over again. Well, not alone. Her place was already cramped before Chewie, but coming home from the funeral she’d found Luke silently lingering in the door & an entire bed constructed with storage for the dog - almost like he knew. This was it, it was the last piece of him she had left. She lets the pup sleep in her bed, just for the night she tells herself, but a night stretches into a week into a month & finally just admits he belongs there.

It took weeks before she even stepped inside his place & even then it took Simon & Alec there, practically forcing her not to run but in the end they quietly moved her things out before the place was sanitized & stripped. By the time his former handler & the team were done, it wouldn’t resemble the place they had shared for three years & she wasn’t sure she could even bring herself to think about it. Simon is chatty the entire time, navigating everything with a sense of ease only someone who has known her twenty years could manage. Alec is dutiful, saying nothing but catching her quietly & letting her borrow his strength when she finds the box in the dresser. She flees down the stairs before she can even look at it properly.

She doesn’t go back after that. 

The boxes stay packed for months, canvasses set up against the walls, paints still sealed & tucked away. ’ they’re looking for someone this summer for the program you love in Maine! oh, Clary, won’t you come over for dinner this week? we’ve missed you. ’ it goes on for weeks, messages piling up. Te words sound foreign to her ears, even mechanical as she calls them back each time, promising oh I’ll look into it. maybe later. I miss you too. maybe it’s reasonable to assume they know the truth, maybe she just selfishly hopes they do without her having to speak it, but the light that had once fueled her entire being, that FIRE that had dominated everything from her passion in the classroom to her art… it had died with him. 

It’s Alec who surprises her, finally. They’re out to breakfast & it’s a pretty enough day. Once she would have loved to sketch a day like this, but she can’t even remember the last time she held a piece of charcoal much less a sketchpad. By the time breakfast wraps up & the others head off to the subway, she’d ready to head home when she catches Alec lingering by the door. ’ he came by the shop, you know. ’ Standing there on the sidewalk across from Central Park, she feels a chill in that late August air. her birthday would be soon, she realizes dimly. She’d entirely forgotten, but Alec is still looking at her with those deeply perceptive blue eyes like he expects a reaction. ’ he did? ’

She’s not prepared for the story by a long shot, hearing how Simon had dragged Ben into the shop, looking for the ring she & Izzy had been fawning over when it came in for inventory. How he had paid cash, had been so ready to find that one moment &– she blinks back tears to see him holding something out in his hands. The ring is exactly as she remembers it, delicate rose gold with twining vines around the band, suspended now on a delicate chain. She takes it quietly, weighing it in her small hands before Alec quietly takes it back & helps hook it around her neck. ’ I know it’s… ’ Words aren’t his strong suit. No, that’s all wrong, she thinks.  Emotions aren’t his strong suit but when Alec WANTS to say something, his words always find home like his arrows find their way to the heart of a target. 

’ I want to tell you it gets better, ’ he says finally, messy black hair falling in his eyes like that might help shield her from that deep gaze. ’ But sometimes it doesn’t. And that’s… it’s okay to miss him. Don’t let anyone tell you there’s a time limit. ’ They’d been sixteen when Max had died, & she still saw that grief every once in while. It was quiet, & he handled it with strength, but she knew it was there. For the first time in thirteen years, she actually, fully understands how lost he must have felt in that moment. She doesn’t say anything, but the next time they go out, she catches herself doodling on a napkin & sees the small, hopeful smiles. Progress. Maybe. 

When Isabelle brings over a plant the next week, she manages to find a place for it. Slowly, so slowly, it’s like the universe balances. No, not entirely. The lows are violent & abrasive - those are the nights she wakes up with a dog heavier than she is bullying her awake so she doesn’t drown in her own physical grief, but the highs…. She can feel them. Color starts to come back into her apartment, canvases stop resting against the walls. She’s not happy, but she’s… at peace. As close to at peace as she can be without her TRUE NORTH there beside her. It takes even more time, but she finds herself going out again - helping Isabelle shop for a wedding dress, helping Alec put together a crib while Magnus smokes on the balcony & pretends he absolutely couldn’t put it together with a wave of his fingers. 

It’s Christmas in New York City, & while she’d like to think a nice, white Christmas might be possible, she’ll take the laughter & being surrounded by friends & family. It’s not perfect, but it’s… comforting. The ring hangs from the chain around her neck, tucked under the ugliest scarf Magnus could find, proclaiming that he didn’t do UGLY CHRISTMAS SWEATERS. They’d done everything - the store fronts, ice skating. All of it as a distraction & she has to admit it’s working. That gaping void in her heart is still there, but it’s become a little easier to bear in the year since he’d left her. Rafe is tugging at Alec’s sleeve, begging his dad for some toy or something in a window & she waves them off, watching the crowd head into the shop as she leans against a streetlight.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket - a familiar if painful number on the screen. She’s only talked to Leia a handful of times since the funeral, but this time she answers instead of letting it go to voicemail. How are you holding up? It’s her first Christmas without him, & just like that the cold takes on a sharper bite for even just the briefest of seconds. I just wanted to call and tell you I was thinking of you. She can’t not think about them, think about what they could have had. Seeing Alec & Magnus with their kids hurts enough but she’d always had enough love in her heart to see through the pain & be happy for them, even knowing the totality of what she had lost, what Leia knew that not even her own mother had figured out. The conversation is brief, & by the time she sees everyone coming out of the store, she’s already hanging up the phone, preoccupied enough that this time she’s the one who misses the scream. 

It’s five hours before they can get to her but they lose her in thirty minutes, the car having hit black ice in the rush to get home for the holiday & slammed into the curb. Each minute that ticks by is like a vaulting step back in time, & when she finally feels her eyes close, there’s a radiating warmth instead of the chill. She hears the drops of water, that rising sense of panic at being back there, but then… those all too familiar footfalls as she’s lifted out of that cold, dark hell & settled into strong arms. Her lungs hurt, speech just barely beyond her grasp but she makes herself look up into those deep brown eyes. ’ you came back for me. ’

[altruisticandsadistic]

“Alright ladies, gentlemen, and other folk... You know since I want to be inclusive and there are a lot of honorifics out there for everyone.  Ahem, sidetracked there sorry.  But umm... please be nice for what you’re about to see.  I locked her in a cellar for a bit to get this done.”

Yeah and it was musty as all hell you little shit.  But anyways.  I was given the idea to fill out Eve’s about stuff a bit more.  Since you know she kinda fell into my lap heavily out of the blue.  So here it is under the cut for length.  Forewarning there is some heavy stuff there.  I’ll tag it best I can but if I miss something let me know.  Also let me know what you think.  I’m still working on Ceara’s and Niamh’s at the moment so they’ll be coming soon.

Name: Eibhleann Granuaile aka Eve (Pronounced Eve + linn Graw + nya + wail, meaning the most remarkable, pleasant, radiant woman)

Age: 31

Birthday: March 27th

Zodiac: Aries

Sexuality: Lesbian

Basis: Dian Cecht of the Tuatha De Dannan

Occupation:  Teacher

Appearance

Height: 5’2

Weight: 163 lbs

Hair: Cherry Blonde

Eye: Aquamarine leaning more to green

Bust: 38B

Shoe: 9US

Waist: 34in

Hips: 36in

Special Features: Eve is a trans female.  Depending on the verse either post or pre op

Personality

Eve cares a lot about the people around her.  Usually to her own detriment.  Wanting to push the facets of her life she hadn’t been able to do for the first part of her life, she tends to be more motherly than she expects to be.  She does tend to be timid and shy around others but that is simply because she is still getting used to herself.

Strengths:

Eve is quick to look over a situation and determine the best course of action to make sure the least amount of people get emotionally hurt.  Taking in all the things she can see to do the right thing.

Weakness:

She tends to be distrustful of others.  Not because of their actions but because of the actions of the many.  Due to past circumstances she’d been outed and was fired from a previous job even though no one she worked with knew of who she’d been.  Due to this she tends to be leery of anyone who says that they are nice, for fear that they are just going to backfire if they find out who she used to be.

Backstory

Eve was born to a couple struggling for a child.  Her mother having not the best physiology, lost three previous attempts at one.  So when Eve was born both her mother and father were ecstatic that they finally had a small one to love and care for.

Born originally Aiden Granuaile, Eve spent much of her young life uncomfortable with how she was.  Being a boy was difficult and many a days were spent just fawning over the girls in his class, not for wanting to get with them but to be one of them.  He refused to tell anyone about his feelings at the time though because his father was so happy to have a boy to do the typical father-son things that he couldn’t help but hide how he felt.

School was hard for the boy as while intelligent, his internal struggles caused him to have a lack of focus.  Many times was he bullied for being smaller of stature than others and that grew into a slight inferiority complex that carried for the years to come.  It certainly didn’t help that his growing need to be feminine leaked out here and there with small unnoticeable things like wearing wedged boots.

As Aiden grew into a young man he knew that he wanted to be a teacher.  But wasn’t sure how to go about being the best teacher he could be.  Each time he tried to go to school for it it would only end in defeat as he hated how he saw himself.  There was no reconciling the inner and outer feelings he had and it slowly drove him mad.

In his mid twenties something finally snapped, causing him to regret his life.  One night with a bottle of painkillers and far too much alcohol he tried to finish himself off.  Not wanting to deal with the self hate he felt or the fact he failed at what he wanted to do.  Taking the pills and slamming the full bottle of booze had him overdosing easily.

It was the grace of the gods and mainly his overbearing mother that he saw the next day.  As she had come over and found him on the bed in his state.  Rushing him to the hospital, he spent weeks getting better and going through both rehab and a mental health hospital.  During this time he came to grips with who he was.

Weeks after his release he decided to take the plunge and came out to a few friends he had at the time.  Taking the name Eibhleann for the beauty it sounded.  Only to be discarded by the few folks other than her parents.  She began her transition to her female self shortly there after, letting her hair grown out and learning better skills at makeup and such.

Her parents were behind her but she knew it was still a struggle even for them.  Every once in a while the misgendering occurred but she let it slide as they had decades as Aiden history to go off of.  But as time went on and she became more and more feminine it started to grate on her.  When she officially took the name Eibhleann she let them know in no uncertain terms that if they called her, him they would be ignored for a while there after.

With her transition fully in swing she managed to return to school and finally get her teaching license.  It was nice to put a stamp on something she had so sorely wanted as things were turning around.  But it wasn’t to last.

Having had her older records sealed, her position at a posh school was nice and comfy.  Until a colleague went digging and found out about the years she had been Aiden. Taking the information to the administration they balked at Eve, saying she’d lied about who she was.  Tears in her eyes. Eve fought to say that those records were sealed for a reason.  A person who no longer was.  She had put the hard work in to be where she was but to no avail as they promptly fired her over misinformation.

Shortly there after, Eve started traveling around.  Keeping to smaller less equipped schools and in only a substitute level capacity.  So as to not have the chance to repeat the same experiences.  

[artificialqueens]

And So This is Christmas, I Hope You Had Fun (Ravjila) - Sammy Indigo

A/N: Part 2 of the Ravjila Christmas fic from a week or so ago. I do hope everyone is having a safe December, and if you’re in an area with some severe weather, be careful. 

And thank you for all the kind words you have been giving me this month. I read them all. All the love xxx

Latrice hadn’t bothered to chastise the three of them on Christmas morning, when she knocked on Manila and Raven’s bedroom door at eight am and opened it to both girls, plus Raja, all cuddled together in Raven’s single bed. Usually when she caught all three of them in the same room after an impromptu sleepover, she gave them a brief lecture about getting to bed early and the safety of knowing where each of them were through the night. However, this Christmas morning, the woman had wished them “Merry Christmas, Babies”, and told them to be downstairs in ten minutes for breakfast.

By the time Manila had managed to drag the other two out of bed, Willam and Danny were already throwing balled up pieces of wrapping paper at each other from across the long dining room table. A particularly aggressive throw from Danny, and a strategic duck from Willam resulted in the wadded up paper hitting Tatiana in the back of the head. She whipped around with a pout and a frown on her face.

“Hey!” She shouted. “Stop it.”

“Sorry!” Danny laughed. “Sorry, Tati.”

Tatiana glared at him. “That’s twice you’ve hit me, now.”

“Then move outta the way.” Willam teased.

Raven smacked him over the head as she walked past to Tatiana. She made an effort to soften the blow slightly. It was Christmas, after all.

“Happy Christmas, kid.” Raven said, hugging Tatiana. “You get anything good?”

“Happy Christmas, Ravie.” Tatiana beamed, holding up a little make up set that Raven suspected was from Claire’s. “Look.” Tatiana said. She leaned into Raven’s side. “It’s got highlighter, and mascara, and even glitters!” She grinned broadly. “I asked for make up, and I got it! This is awesome. Thank you!”

Raven tugged her ponytail, fondly. “Don’t thank me, I didn’t get it for you. Thank the random stranger who feels guilty enough about their life choices to make themselves feel better by spending money on foster kids.”

“Raven.” Latrice warned. “It’s Christmas.”

“Sorry.” Raven kissed Tatiana’s cheek. “That’s so cool. I’m glad you got what you wanted.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey, Rave!” Manila called from the other side of the room.

Raven kissed Tatiana’s head and patted her shoulder, leaving her to fawn over her present. She wormed her way through the excitable kids, picking up a paper ball from the table and throwing it back to Danny. He caught it and gave her a thumbs up.

“I’d like to keep my nose intact, this year.” He said, brushing long hair out of his eyes.

“We’ll see.” Raven said with a smirk. He flipped her the bird and she laughed.

As Raven approached them, Raja handed her a cookie, and Manila held up a mug in question.

“Coffee?” She asked. “Or Latrice is doing hot chocolate?”

“Chocolate.” Raven said, taking a bite of the cookie and settling into Raja’s side. “Since it’s Christmas.”

Latrice passed her a mug from behind. “Since it’s Christmas, darling.” She said. “Mini marshmallows but no cream for Raven.” She handed a second mug to Raja. “And cream and sprinkles for my Raja.”

“How do you remember that?” Raven asked. “There’s like fifteen of us.”

“I always remember all of my babies. Don’t matter how old they are.” Latrice said. She nodded to the kids running around the rest of the room. “Don’t think you aren’t special just because you’re one of many. You,” She squeezed Raven’s shoulder. “And you two,” She put a hand on Raja’s arm and Manila’s shoulder, “are special. Are loved. Don’t matter if you leave, don’t matter if you come back, don’t matter if you grow up and forget all about me.” Latrice looked at each of them in turn. “You’re loved by me. Always.”

Manila stepped around Raven to hug Latrice. “I could never forget you. You’re unforgettable.”

“Well, thank you, baby.”

Raja beamed. “And we love you.”

“Thank you.” Raven said. She sipped her hot chocolate. “And I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Latrice asked, baffled as she kept an arm around Manila. “You’ve only been up for twenty minutes. What could you have possibly done? Danny isn’t bleeding yet, is he?”

“No, not today.” Raven said. “I’m just sorry, in general.” She felt Raja take her hand. “I know I’m not the, um, easiest, kid to have around. I just, want to say sorry. I’m sorry I cause so many problems.”

“You don’t cause problems, Raven.”

“I do. And I know that I do.” She shrugged. “That’s why I’m here, right? Troublemaker.” She laughed at herself. “Sorry.”

Latrice shook her head. “You’re here, all of you, because of circumstances beyond your control.” She gave them a small sad smile. “If you take nothing else away from me when you leave, take this, each and every one of you is not at fault for the atrocities you have been forced to live through.”

Raven opened her mouth to argue but Latrice held up her hand.

“Nope, she said. I don’t want to hear it. You’re good kids, and if you make the correct choices you’re going to be good adults.”

Willam screamed, and they all looked over to see Danny holding some dripping slime over his face as he pinned him to the ground.

Latrice rolled her eyes. “Even those two.”

Raja giggled. “Danny’s gonna get another bloody nose this year, if he’s not careful.”

Willam kicked out, narrowly missing Danny’s face, laughing like a seal the whole time.

“Oh, Lord.” Latrice shook her head. “Listen, enjoy your day, babies, have fun, make memories.” She gave Manila a squeeze. “I gotta go break this up. Hey! Danny, you leave him. And Willam, stop acting like an ass!”

………………….

Christmas dinner in a group home wasn’t the formal affair Raven had experienced as a young child when they had spent much of the day in Church, then even more of the day visiting relatives whose names she didn’t know. In the group home, she, Raja, and Manila remained in their pyjamas all day, retreating to their room with plates piled high with buffet food, and each with a similar gift bag claiming to be ‘From Santa Claus’.

The gifts were trash, mostly, and Raven felt guilty for even thinking that when she knew somewhere a person had seen Raven’s request for ‘curling tongs’, and unable to purchase them for the provided budget of fifteen dollars, had gone with the next best thing; a set containing a hairbrush, some scrunchies, and some wired foam rollers. It wasn’t the worst gift, Raven supposed.

“Could have been worse.” Raja voiced, long legs stretched over Raven’s lap on the bed, and head resting on Manila’s shoulder. “I mean, I know I asked for jewellery making stuff, and I really meant like pliers, and hoops, and chains, but I don’t mind this.” She held up an almost completed woven bracelet and dangled it by Raven’s face. “A shit ton of embroidery floss and some beads? I can work with that.”

“Yeah.” Manila said. “I think we did good. I got a cool notebook and pens this year. Even came with some coloured pencils.”

“Better than a lunch box.” Raven smirked.  “Although I don’t know why you insist on asking for school supplies every year.”

“Everything else is too vague.” She shrugged. “Plus, I like knowing I’ll have stuff for school for a while.”

“Mm.” Raja hummed. “Only thing worse than being the foster kid is being the foster kid who has to borrow pencils from the school.”

“Hey, ‘Nila?” Raven asked. “When I’m rich I’ll buy you all the school supplies you want. Erasers coming out of your fucking ass.”

Manila kicked her. “Shut up. Just ‘cause I like to be prepared.”

“Don’t tease her.” Raja said.

“Sorry. Love you.”

Manila blushed. “Love you, too. I told you Christmas was happy.”

“Yeah, you did.” Raven crawled over the bed until she was snuggled in between Raja and Manila.

Manila cuddled around her, wrapping an arm around her tummy and settling against her chest.

Raven stroked her hair. “Do you…?” She trailed off, closing her eyes. She felt Raja’s arm press into her side. “Do…” Raven exhaled. “Doesn’t matter.”

“No, what?” Raja murmured. “Tell us.”

She took a long breath in, allowing the familiar scent of Manila’s hair settle her. “I was just thinking.” Raven said. “I’m just being stupid. Christmas, you know?”

“Getting sentimental?” 

“Not exactly.” Raven said. On feeling Raja’s fingers on her wrist, she opened her eyes.

Raja looked up at her and smiled. “For you.” She tied the finished bracelet around her wrist. “Too tight?”

“S’fine.”

Manila snuggled further into Raven’s chest. “I picked the colours.”

“I love it.” She drew her hand up to her face to inspect the intricate knots. “Thank you. Does that mean I get to pick ‘Nila’s colours?”

“Sure.” Raja said, and then smirked at Raven.

“Yellow.” they both said simultaneously, and burst into peals of laughter.

Rolling her eyes, Manila spoke. “Okay, okay. We get it, I like the colour yellow.”

Raven kissed her, still huffing out puffs of laughter. “Sorry.” She kissed her again, this time a little more reverently. “I’m sorry, ‘Nils.”

Manila waved her off. “Nah, you guys are right, I do like yellow. Reminds me of the sun.”

“You’re so cute.”

She blushed and ducked her face into Raven’s chest. “Snuggle me.” She said, muffled in Raven’s shirt.

The three of them, tired, full of food, warm, and happy, cuddled together in the tiny single bed. Raja’s long limbs encompassed the other two, and Raven pressed her lips to the back on Manila’s ear. The bass from the music downstairs was soothing rather than irritating, and even when Raven heard Willam’s obnoxious laughter in the hall, she couldn’t find it in herself to be mad.

“Life,” Raja said, “it’s not too shitty, is it?”

“Not here.” Manila answered quickly. “With you.”

“Do,” Raven began, again, “um, do you guys…?”

“Ask us.” Raja said. She rubbed circles into the warm skin under Raven’s pyjama top.

“Do you guys ever think about before?”

Neither of them even had to ask what ‘before’ was. For foster kids, or for the three of them, at least, the ‘before’ was all the same. Before someone took them away, Raven used to say. But Raja had always said before someone saved her. Raven preferred that. It was truer.

Manila squeezed Raven’s hand, fingers rubbing the woven bracelet on her wrist. “I don’t think about it as much.” She said. “I used to think about them all the time.” Of the three of them, Manila had been the oldest when she had been removed from her family. She was also the only one of them who still had both of her parents out there, alive, in the world, and knew where they were. “I thought about them, today, though.” She said, quietly. “I can’t imagine Christmas in prison is very nice.”

“They don’t deserve a nice Christmas.” Raja said.

Manila didn’t reply. Raven kissed her neck.

Raja took a long breath, calming her tone. “I take it you’ve been thinking about your family, Rave?”

“A bit.” She said. “Not much. Just…” Raven sighed. “Just wondering, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

Raven hadn’t seen her dad since she was removed from his care, her mother had never, as far as Raven was aware, been in the picture. But she had brothers and sisters, she knew she did, could remember faces and names, and yet had no way of knowing exactly how they were, where they were. She was seven the last time she had seen any of them. There could be more kids, now, for all she knew. Maybe they were being dragged around by her father to visit relatives that they didn’t know the names of. Raven shivered.

Raja cuddled her closer.

“Do you think about your mom?” Raven asked her.

“No.” Raja said, and the brutal honesty in her tone made Raven want to cry for her. “Sometimes I dream about her. But no. I don’t think about her. At least not on purpose.”

“Good.” Manila muttered. “I hate it when you have nightmares.”

“I’m not letting her ruin my future. Now when she ruined my past.” Raja paused, and then chuckled. “I sound like my therapist.”

“And mine.” Raven said.

“And mine.” Manila added.

The three of them began to laugh. Raven giggled into the back of Manila’s shirt, wiping the tears she hadn’t noticed on her cheeks into the fabric.

“I’m so fucking glad I have you both.” She said.

“Who else would have you?” Raja said and Manila kicked her. “I’m kidding.” She put a hand on Raven’s chin to pull her face to hers, kissing her gently. “Don’t you ever fucking dare leave us. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Promise.” Manila said. “Please promise, Raven.”

“I promise.” She took a shuddering breath, and then coughed to cover it. “We got each other, ‘till the end, right?”

“Right.”

“Forever.” Manila said. “However long forever is.”

Raven grinned. “Here’s to another hundred Christmases with each other.”

Raja nodded. “Happy Christmases.”

Manila beamed. “Happy Christmas.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

[0xa00001]

five times caught

MEME.  MEME TAG.  INBOX.  ALWAYS ACCEPTING! @sanctemony

one.  it’s day three when they make their way to the unassuming church outside falls end. while the white siding and flowers lining the path seem idyllic, there’s nothing quaint about the ARs wielded by unshaved, blown-pupil enforcers or the hollow looks of the people corralled by them into the pews. james and wrench— reginald— are directed near the back, settling partially in the shadow of a support beam.

james linger on each of the seeds in turn, stripping away layers of defense mechanisms and self-portraits in facades like paint remover on inherited living room walls. beige to white to blue to beige to gray.

their eyes lock. john’s brow peaks like the crescendo of those cheesy propaganda songs over the radio and james knows in an instant that there’s nothing but pure lunacy behind that gaze. john looks at the newcomer tucked in the shadow of a back pew not as a human being, but as a toy, pupils pinpricks in a sea of mad ice. he doesn’t budge. can’t. the icy blue carves right down into his stomach and suddenly he feels like a bug in a web— it sees through him exactly as james sees through everyone else, and pulls a creeping unease up his spine like james hasn’t felt in years.

that’s the moment james realizes their two month estimate was naively optimistic. because the people staring at them from the church altar aren’t people, but tools, machined down and rebuilt for a very specific purpose: control.

joseph gestures in the way a dog owner might signal for his pet’s attention. in an instant john’s attention snaps back over, jovial, obedient, and bright; and wherever john’s gaze falls across the room, he brings that brightness with him. but the eyes that meet james’ are cold. always cold, like the true nature of the sadist is hidden in lenticular print and only perceptible from the correct angle.

wrench is livid when they leave. james tells him that they’ll give the seeds what’s coming to them, they’ve survived militaries and mafias, a backwater cult is small time work. but for all his reassurance, his mind remains stubbornly stuck on that distorted period of time when he was trapped under john’s gaze, caught in the swirling, mad blue.

two.  they’re in falls end when it happens.

the thing about being shot is, unless you’re looking at the gun, it’s hard to understand you’ve been shot. it’s all white-hot tightness like a body cramp isolated to the tip of a pin inside his shoulder, and a force that makes him stumble backwards until his back hits the brick wall of the spread eagle.

his first thought is, shit.

his second thought is, help.

but somewhere between the gut-punch of panic and fast-acting bliss and the pain blooming across his shoulder the noise is mangled to little more than a tight gasp, not audible to dedsec sitting less than a foot away from him through bricks and wood and the low thrum of bar music.

james hits the concrete and the last thing he remembers is how the bliss makes the headlights that roll up to him dance like fireworks.

he thinks, that’s nice.

three.  once, after far too many bottles of sake, he had drunkenly made a bet with wo fat about dying in a concrete hole just like the one he’s in now. and it’s that bet, not his desire to live, or even the images of revenge james plays in his mind on repeat to stave off the pain that drives him to escape. he can get shot as soon as he hits daylight inside the compound and keel over dead and that would be fine. but his ego won't— can't— permit him to lose a bet.

a thought enters his mind about when his ego started permitting him to talk like his death was an inevitability, but john takes those pliers to his hand again and yanks off nail six of ten, and the pain obliterates everything that isn’t the reverberation of his shout against the walls.

the next time he’s awake, john is gone. there’s a hole in his memory and a pounding in his skull that feels like dehydration and blood loss and a migraine all at once, and he wonders for a moment if this is what a segfault feels like. cracking both eyes open leads to the realization that he can only crack one eye open, the other sealed shut by the accumulation of dried blood from the cut on his scalp. he must have gotten that on the way in, when he hit the concrete outside the spread eagle. john hasn’t touched his face beyond the condescending, sugar-sweet crowing like a fawning relative, and one snap of his teeth in the flesh of john’s hand had assured he’s careful about that in the future.

james pretends the taste of blood in his mouth is from the crescent moons he bit into john’s fingers. it’s easier to stomach that way.

his escape is convoluted, painful, and takes far too long for james’ liking. his body is align with the buzz of fear under his skin, jumping at every noise and shift of the light like a feral cat backed into a corner. his hands and arms prickle with painful tv static as he regains their use, making quick work of the door and slipping quietly, not bursting, not throwing the door open, out into the sunlight. he takes a moment to gawk at the sun, like he’s forgotten what it looks and feels like.

james makes it ten steps out of the compound before the butt of a rifle makes fireworks explode behind his eyes.

caught.

four.  “I’m disappointed in you, james.”

james imagines twenty-seven inches of wooden bat crack across john’s skull.  

“I’m just trying to get you to atone,” he implores, hands clutched close to his chest like he’s trying to keep all that overwhelming love and affection inside, and not the insane ramblings of a madman too addled by drugs and his brother’s goddamn ego to keep all that bullshit locked up in his head. it holds exactly zero weight considering one of those hands clutches a knife dyed deep red with james’ blood. “you come into our home— our home! outsiders! and you bring your weapons, and your fancy toys, and you mock!”

the next words are punctuated with the knife slicing deep, crooked lines into james’ ribs. he can already see two Ps, and john draws a line down to turn the second to an R.

“our! mission! you slaughter our lambs, our family, and you brag about it. but I will tell you something, james. not even you are beyond redemption. even you, you sinful, obstinate monster of a man can be—”

“eat shit.”

not his most original, but he’s running on indignation and rage and the fact that he can summon his voice at all is nothing short of miraculous.

john sighs. james is mentally preparing himself for the rest of his banal speech when john takes the knife and buries it deep in his arm. the wound forms the I of PRIDE.

he wonders how much longer he can scream until his voice fizzles out for good.

“is this what you want?”  john’s shouting now, holy hellfire, twisting the knife deep until it brushes bone and james jerks helpless against the restraints. his traitorous brain screams at him along every nerve along his arm, demanding to pull away until his wrists are raw and bloodied against the ropes that bind him. and john digs and twists, sneering threats like a dog foaming at the mouth, until some part of james caves and pleads,

“wait!”

he hears a voice inside him sneer, weak.

john stops with a grin. finally. progress.

“ready to say yes, brother?”

james visualizes plucking all thirty-two teeth of john’s sharklike smile out of his jaw, but doesn’t speak a word. doesn’t trust what might come out of his mouth if he tried.

john tuts.

“then the atonement shall continue!”

five.  they don’t catch john. deacon does, chases him in nick’s plane and forces him to the ground and throws him in a cell. there to wait out the war in hope county, james supposes, rotting in a concrete box until he can get before a real judge. given who john seed is, james severely doubts the justice system will be particularly harsh with his punishment.

and what does dedsec do, if not mete out punishment to those that the system will not?

nobody’s sure who kills john. nobody buys the line about suicide, that’s for sure; but not even james is in any position to do it, body broken in so many places he can’t even stand without assistance. it hardly matters— deacon looks at him like he’s caught james with the rope used to strangle john himself, disappointment and defeat and an acute helplessness all rolled up into one.

maybe it’s better that way.

[jimlingss]

The Leather Loafers

Words: 11.2k Genre: Fluff & Humour, Cinderella!Au Summary: Yes. You went to the ball. Yes. You ran into the prince. Yes. The shoe fits. BUT-! You aren't that Cinderella bitch. THEY'VE GOT THE WRONG PERSON! Warnings: Swearing...that’s really it. lol

Midnight strikes the clock.

A child is curled up at the fireplace to stay warm. The cinders crackle, dusting along her cheeks but the girl pays no mind, staring straight into the flickering flames. A few of the orphans behind her snicker beneath their hands. “Look at the new kid! She’s so dirty! We should call her Cin-”

A chunk of coal smacks the boy right in the forehead and he falls back on his butt, outright stunned. The mischievous smiles of all the other orphans fall as she holds a steaming fire iron like a sword.

“You want to fight?! Fight me like a real person instead of laughing behind my back! Huzzah!”

The children scream in terror, arms in the air as they scatter and run. A bunch of them end up toppling over each other in a heap and you laugh, swinging the device that’s used to poke the fire. The mother of the orphanage comes over in hysterics, dragging you away. “Let go of me!”

“Y/N!” She screeches, “This is unacceptable!”

The small, meager dwelling is in absolute chaos.

They say that midnight is the time when the events of the day have been sealed into fate.

Even the most powerful magicians, witches and warlocks cannot reverse the day again when midnight hits. It’s the glue that seals all envelopes, the second where the ink of the history books have been dried. Time cannot be changed. And it happens all at the magical time of when the clock hits twelve.

[Present Day]

The sea is sparkling in a rich cerulean shade that matches the sky. You look at the sailors in slight envy, thinking about what it would be like to sail across the ocean and if you could possibly sneak on their boats…

“Come get the best silk fabrics!”, “Get your spices, get your spices!”, “The brightest jewels of all the land! Buy them today!”

The town is a lot livelier than the other places you’ve been, a certain bustle at the marketplace and at the stalls. Merely wandering around has improved your own mood. “Young girl!” A swollen lady motions you over. “Would you like a pair of shoes?”

You approach, looking at all the fancy slippers and boots. “You’re not from here, are you?” She looks at you with a smile and you blink at her.

“How did you know?” You glance down at your attire, having purposely changed it to blend in. It was a red dress that went to your ankles, brown buttons at your torso and a cute white flower pattern where the skirt flared out.

“My dear, it was only a guess.” She laughs at how befuddled you are. “I just didn’t recognize you, that’s all. But where did you come from?”

“Oh, I don’t really come from anywhere. I’m a merchant traveller, so I never stay in one place for too long.” Your fingers run along the shoes until you stop at a simple pair of brown loafers. It’s cute and simple with tassels. They’re far from luxurious or any glass slipper.

That’s why you like them.

It’s you. “I’ll take these ones.”

“Good choice.” She grins and wraps them up nicely in parchment. There are only a few coins left in your pockets to spare once you hand her the money. “Is there any reason you came here though?”

“Actually…” You lean in, “I’m looking for a ship.”

“A ship?” The lady’s brow raises. “What for?”

“To sail across the sea. Do you know where I could find one?”

“I’m afraid I don’t.” She chuckles at how crestfallen you look, “And it’s quite expensive, don’t you think? I don’t think I’d be able to afford it even if I sold everything I had! Best of luck, child. I hope all goes well to you and come again if you need shoes!”

You slip on your loafers immediately after leaving the stand. It matches quite well with the ensemble you have on and you’re wholeheartedly satisfied with your purchase. You’re so happy, staring down at the soft leather that you nearly ram into someone and them in turn, almost steps on your new assets. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

Your scowl and ironic shout goes ignored. No one pays any attention as the squire in front tacks something on the board of the town hall. Everyone’s gathered, murmurs and squeals emitting from young women’s mouths. You sigh, walking off until a messenger boy interrupts.

“The Royal Ball! Mandatory for all citizens! Everyone is welcome into the castle! The prince will be looking for his future queen! Make sure to come!” He’s waving a curled up piece of paper, the flyers sandwiched in his armpit. The boy stops you right as you’re stomping off and he shoves one of the flyers into your hands. “Make sure to come too, pretty miss! Prince Seokjin is looking for a wife!”

The Royal Ball.

What was this? A stupid matchmaking dance party?

With a scoff, you crumple up the paper and chuck it behind you. Every other girl your age would be fainting at the opportunity, running to seamstresses to collect the most beautiful gowns and pampering themselves with powders. But you could care less. You didn’t want to be royalty or queen for that matter. All you wanted was a ship. And all you needed to achieve your goal was…

“Money or gold.” You murmur, backtracking in your mind as your steps reverse. Your fingertips swipe the crumpled ball and you open it up again. “The castle…”

A light sparks in your head.

If everyone was to be in attendance this evening then it definitely would be chaotic.

You smirk, mumbling to yourself as you tuck the paper away. “A perfect time for a heist.”

//

The night arrives quickly.

There are hordes of people in ballgowns, colours of mustard yellow and vomit green. They appear in horse carriages to flaunt off their nonexistence wealth, each carrying a red sealed envelope invitation. The women’s faces are thickly powdered, colours on their eyelids dynamic to the point that it resembles peacocks. They look like they painted their faces on so thickly that you could probably peel it off like a sticker and you wonder if they played a game of ‘how tight can we make our corsets’. The men are no different, clothes extremely tight that it’s disturbing and their white wigs crammed on their skull. All of the people and peasants are boisterously laughing, attempting to draw attention from the prince who’s nowhere in sight.

It’s not like you care. You’re here for one reason and one reason only.

The moon is illuminating your shadow in the trees. No one notices when you jump the branches and sneak in further. For a millisecond, you’re pleased with how hungry you used to be in the orphanage since it taught you how to climb apple trees and swipe fruit from the farmers.

Somehow you make it past the royal guards, landing inside the botanical gardens and swinging off an orchard branch. A crunch in the leaves puts you immediately on alert and you dive for the wall but then you realize it’s the wind.

You’re in.

There’s no time for celebrations when you haven’t actually completed your mission yet.

You slip inside, amazed at the magnificent hallways and how gold adorns the trimming of the white walls. A moment later, you’re contemplating swiping a vase or painting but they’re far too heavy and large to bring away…….perhaps a decoration trinket might be enough…..

“Hmm. He is kind of handsome.” Each of the portraits are of a different royal member but you find yourself staring up at the infamous Prince Kim Seokjin. A mop of brown hair with eyes to match but his orbs are rounded in a way that looks far too innocent. He does indeed live up to his attractive name and you can at least understand a little more why so many fawn over him.

He probably won’t have any problem finding a wife tonight.

Just as you turn to keep walking, you don’t realize that someone’s right there. And that someone is strikingly familiar to the portrait.

Jin strides by, lost in his thoughts and he too does not notice the girl who’s lowering her head down. It’s too late when it occurs to him. His shoulder accidentally collides with the other person and it shatters him from his trance. He spins on his heel. “Excuse me, you’re not suppose to- huh.”

There’s no one there.

He must’ve imagined it.

Kim Seokjin continues on his way, having no time to waste as he is late to his own party.

You breathe a sigh of relief as the footsteps fade. When the coast is clear, you slither out from your hidden spot, graciously thankful that there was a hidden gap between two walls that you slid into. You were nearly caught by the prince himself. What a disaster that would’ve been.

Unfortunately, you aren’t completely lucky.

You have no idea how to get around the castle and you find yourself utterly lost for god knows how long. You turn left and right, walk up and down several stairs, forward and backwards. It’s a literal maze. The halls are replicas of each other, twisting paths and you swear you’ve been in circles. At some point you contemplate jumping from the second level window, only to envision yourself breaking your own goddamn neck.

“Hey! Who are you?!” A roar booms through the empty corridor. “You’re not suppose to be here!”

You crane your neck at a snail’s pace, met with two royal guards. At the sight of you, their eyes grow wide and your grip on a golden goblet slips through your fingers. “THIEF!”

“Oh shit.” Your legs propel you forward and you rush down a hall, knocking over plants when you can. Out of nowhere, three other royal guards come out screeching, whipping out their swords. “You don’t play any games, do you?!”

You leap down a flight of stairs, darting past the gardens that you came from. With your quick reflexes and the years of experiences from being in similar situations, you step on the wooden bench and fling yourself over the fence. The guards scream at you and five more come running from the left. You should be scared. You should be terrified. Instead you’re laughing your head off while sprinting off.

What a sight it must be for a hoard of twenty royal soldiers to be chasing after one girl.

It’s a miracle when you find the exit and right as you’re about to book it to freedom, you find another figure like you running. Except she’s in a lovely, blue ball gown that looks like the stars were sewn into the silk and you see the familiar prince- “Wait! Wait! Where are you going?!”

“Fuck.” You sharply turn right, making a bunch of the guards smash their faces onto the ground when they try to tackle you down. The Heavens are blessing you when Prince Seokjin is too busy chasing after some chick and the guards are caught off guard by your turn.

“Wait, I don’t even know your name!”

You plunge into the bushes.

Midnight strikes the clock.

//

There’s a saying that criminals always return to the scene of the crime. You’re not exactly sure who came up with this line but one thing’s for sure - they don’t know shit. Why the hell would you ever go back?

Rule number one in thievery, if something doesn’t work out, you get the fuck out.

You’re not going to linger around to wait for them to catch you. That’s why the minute dawn hits, you’re booking it to the borders, ready to run to the next town...but your plan is slightly flawed.

“W-what do you mean I can’t leave?” You fail to hide your face under the hood when you look straight at the soldier with your eyes nearly falling out of its sockets. “What?!”

“I am deeply apologetic but it is a royal declaration that has been put out this morning by the King himself. All the borders and entrances are closed off. It applies to everyone. No one can leave or enter. Please understand.”

This Kingdom does not play any games. But did they really need to go this far for one measly thief? You didn’t even end up stealing anything! On the brighter side of things, it didn’t seem like the guard in front of you recognized you at all.

“You see...my grandmother is very ill...she’s on her deathbed. I must go immediately.” You fib without thinking, easy lies that roll off your tongue. To add to the dramatics, you even begin to sniffle, pretend that you’re a poor maiden in grief.

“I-uh…” The guard is muddled, not knowing how to comfort you. “I am so sorry but I cannot go against orders. I am sure that the borders will open up very shortly. As soon as the Prince finds the girl.”

“The girl…?”

The soldier doesn’t say any more and you don’t need him to. The entire town is full of rumours and whispers. There’s a handful who are crying on the streets, frowning and mourning their loss of grabbing the precious prince’s attention. The rest seem to be mystified, word having that this ‘so called’ girl was an absolute beauty and a perfect match for the prince.

He had become incredibly infatuated and was now searching the entire land.

Now you can only hope that he finds this chick quickly so you can get the fuck out.

“It’s a shoe. They’re trying on some glass slipper or something…” A vendor giggles, “If only my foot wasn’t so big, I would’ve fit in it.”

That’s odd.

Did they really think a shoe would be enough to determine-

“Excuse me.” Someone taps you on your shoulder. As you turn, you detect the colours of the kingdom and the imperial seal. You freeze. “Excuse me, miss?”

The royal palace soldier is bewildered at how you lower your head. “I-I…” You fake a large cough. “-am very sick. Very contagious.” You force yourself to hack your lungs out. “-death…...Goodbye.”

“Wait a second!” The short squire in a powdered white wig stops you and three other soldiers block your path. “It will only take one short second! Can you please try on this slipper? It is required by the royal family!”

The squire doesn’t care that you are dressed like a peasant. He is simply exhausted from running around since four in the morning, gone through at least a hundred homes and a thousand feet. “Do you have any paperwork? What family are you from?”

“Uhhhh…..” You’re a fish out of waters, mouth opening and closing multiple times. “I…”

If they knew you were without paperwork...that you had snuck into the kingdom or worse...that you broke into their precious king’s castle last night….you’d surely be arrested and hung.

“There’s no time!” The squire screeches out, hysterical without proper sleep.

The short man shoves you back - “HEY!” - ignoring your cry of protest as the guard catches your fall. The squire takes your foot, and throws your brand new loafer into the dirt. “Are you serious right now?!” You’re unable to struggle when he forces a glass slipper on your toes. “WHAT THE F-”

It fits.

The shoe fits.

The shoe fucking fits. It slides in like a glove, like it was perfectly made for you.

“Oh no.” “Oh yes.” “We’ve found her.”

Everyone exchanges looks, the squire ready to burst into tears from happiness and the guards in shock. You are appalled, ready to run over the mountains and never return to the godforsaken place but then they’re hauling you off.

“No! No wait! You’ve got the wrong person! I’m not her! I wasn’t even there that night! NO!”

It must be karma.

//

They’re right. Criminals do always return to the scene of the crime after all.

‘The prince must see for himself!’ and ‘there’s no other choice’ is what they told you while they bathed you from head to toe. They scrubbed your skin clean, trimming your hair and polishing your nails. It’s not much of a makeover but a whirlwind of makeup and mirrors.

When you can finally catch a breath, you’re seated at a vanity. A maid is powdering your face with an intense vigor, causing you to cough at the puffs appearing in the air. She goes as far as tying up you in a tight corset dress and plastering a white wig on your head. “Are you excited to meet the prince?”

“Hardly.”

“What?” The maid frowns, confused as if you had said you hated puppies and cake frosting. “Why?”

“I know this is hard to believe.” You grab her hands, looking in her eyes desperately. “But I’m not the girl. They have the wrong person.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” She squeals out, “the shoe fits!”

You have no response to that ridiculousness and the maid ends up brushing you off, too far gone in her excitement. “Well you look absolutely beautiful, miss! And I’m sure you’re just not remembering things! If the shoe fits then it fits!” She exhales a breathy sigh. “I’m so excited for the royal wedding! It’ll be beautiful! I can hear the bells chiming already!”

“Wedding?!”

You might faint.

Meanwhile, Kim Seokjin is marching down the hallway, his white cape flowing behind him. His attendees are just as ecstatic, large grins on their faces that swell their cheeks. The prince’s mind is racing a mile, ready to confess the thousand things he’s thought of to the person who’s stolen his heart.

“We’re here, your majesty.” The servant bows his head and some of the maids jump for joy.

The maid who was helping you earlier is outside the room. “She is ready.”

If Jin was being frank, he’s not quite sure if he’s ready himself.

Nonetheless, the doors open for him and he inhales, stepping inside. They close a second later and the woman of his dreams is standing in the middle of the room, back towards the prince.

He fumbles with his pockets, scrambling for the box and ring. The prince is unaware of your rage and animosity. “My beautiful princess….you have stolen my heart and now I think of no one but you, my fair maiden. Please, will you do me the honour of marrying-”

You turn around.

Jin’s face falls.

There’s two minutes of complete silence. You’re staring back at him with an unimpressed expression. He’s gaping at you, the exact same state you were in earlier.

“You’re not her.”

“Damn straight I’m not!” You throw off your wig, hitching the ugly, massive ball gown in your hands to stride up to him. Prince or not, how dumb could he be?!

“Did you really think a shoe would work?!” You lecture the baffled man, not caring if you’ll be executed in a blink of an eye. Your finger pokes him directly in his chest. “It’s a shoe. One shoe size. I bet one hundred other girls could fit in that damn thing!”

It’s almost comedic, the way Kim Seokjin’s eyes are big and rounded, staring back at you. Up close he is indeed handsome but he has more boyish qualities than what you expected. He’s a lot bigger than you are too, especially in height and his much broader shoulders. Contrastingly enough however, he seems like a child and you have an urge to protect him. With his soft ruffled black locks and his head tipping to one side at your indignation, he looks completely innocent. He looks naive.

“Huh.” -is all that comes from his mouth.

In your hands are the leather loafers. You dust them off, kicking off your pinching shoes and sliding your pair on. By then, Jin’s already dragged his feet out the room, pale as a ghost.

//

The king is frozen like ice. Some might say that he was cursed by an evil witch, turned to stone. But no. Simply, he is wholeheartedly shocked by his son and what utters from the boy’s mouth.

The courtyard silence is broken when the queen’s palm meets her forehead in a slap.

“What do you mean she’s not the girl?!” The king cries out in dismay, “How irresponsible can you be, Seokjin? We’ve wasted so many resources...so much time to search for this girl and now you tell me the one we found is not it?!”

His parents threw a huge ball for him, inviting anyone that was breathing into the castle and when that wasn’t enough, they sent out every single royal guard to look for one girl that their son was continuously gushing about. “It’s humiliating!” All the citizens in the town were now expecting a wedding and if there wasn’t any news soon…

“I’m sure we can find her!” Jin protests, “She has to be somewhere under the sun! And when I find her, I promise that I won’t-”

“Marry the girl that fits the shoe.” His mother slams down her fist, booming an ultimatum throughout the entire castle. “Or marry that princess from the faraway land.”

The prince parts his lips but he knows that once his mother has made her command, no one can change it. He stands there for a long time, contemplating and weighing each option. Then he decides-

“I’ll marry the girl.”

He’s going to marry you.

//

Not really.

He said it to ward off his parents. If Jin was anything, he was tenacious and once he set his heart on something, he swore to himself he would do it. And he’s going to find her.

No matter what it might take.

“Boo.” Your gentle voice visibly scares the man as he jumps and lets a yelp out of his mouth. “What are you doing?”

“I could ask you that!” He shouts but then cringes, quieting down before he draws attention. You run your eyes over his figure and he’s long abandoned his princely attire. The cape is draped on the chair and instead he’s sporting a brown tunic and belt, boots and gloves, much like what a hunter would wear.

“Going somewhere?”

“N-no.” Jin protests but then you look directly at the open window and how his leg is sticking out halfway. “Maybe I am. But that’s none of your business. In fact, what are you even doing in my bedroom quarters?”

“You’re the one who brought me here.” You cross your arms. “We both know I’m not who you’re looking for. But they won’t let me leave. So, I came here for answers. Though it seems like you already have plans.” You gesture to him wildly, how there’s a sack over his shoulders and how he looks like a burglar, except this is own home.

He’s running away.

“Don’t try to stop me.”

“Don’t worry.” You flop down onto his plush mattress. For a second, you’re in absolute awe of how you sink in like it’s made from feathers. “I won’t.”

“You...won’t?”

Jin looks at you in all his confusion, not used to being able to do exactly what he desires. As he tilts his head to one side and blinks at you with his rounded eyes, you wonder why the guy is so innocent and naive.

You sigh, “You have no real plan, do you?” He blinks again. “Do you even know your own kingdom? How will you get around? And how will you go about without being recognized or caught?”

“You’re right….”

“Of course I’m right.” You scoff. “Do you know how long I’ve been doing this sort of thing for?”

Seokjin reaches his hand out. “Then come with me.”

“What?” Your jaw drops and you shake your head. “No. I don’t think so. I’ll just stay here until you come back with your girl, alright?”

“No.” He smirks. “You’re completely right. How could I ever possibly find her without your help?”

“I-”

“And do you know what will happen if I can’t find her?” Prince Seokjin takes a step closer to you, another step...another step. Your back hits against the mattress and you stare up at him-

“You’ll have to marry me.”

You cock your eyebrow upwards. “Is that a threat?”

He considers it for a while and nods. “Yes it is. So what will you decide, fair maiden?”

The leather loafers on your feet don’t move an inch. Your eyes connect to his while your mind scrambles, weighing all the options. Jin beckons you forward. You exhale in exasperation, grabbing the black cloak that hangs off of his golden rack and you heave yourself upwards.

“Do you even know my name?” You drop the black cloak on his head.

Jin grabs it, revealing his grin. “I don’t.”

You look out of the window, thankful that the distance isn’t too much. “It’s Y/N.” And you jump.

Midnight strikes the clock.

The maid is doing her daily rounds. Last night while finishing her job, she had caught you sneaking into the Prince’s quarters. She couldn’t help but giggle and blush. “Oh how active the youth are…” But now dawn has long risen and the king was asking for his presence.

As much as she hated to interrupt whatever the two of you are up to, she has no other choice.

“Excuse me…” Her hand knocks several times on the surface of the door. “Prince Seokjin, your father is requesting for you.”

Upon hearing silence, she decides to crack the door open.

If she sees you lying in bed with him, then she’ll just have to shut it softly and make up some excuse in front of the royal parents. After all, she didn’t want to stop any heirs from being made…

“Prince Seokjin…?” The door swings open when the knob slips from her fingers. “......”

The maid’s scream ricochets throughout the entire castle. A swarm of guards come running, other servants hot on their heels. They all gasp at the sight and someone faints.

Prince Kim Seokjin is gone. There’s a single note on his bed. It reads: ‘I’ll be back’

//

Daybreak has arrived hours ago and so far you’ve been to three stores.

All of the cordwainers and shoemakers have been bewildered by the glass slipper, asking about the origin since it was just yesterday that the squire had been running around with a similar shoe. You don’t blame them for their curiosity. The glass slipper looks like it’s made from ten different mirrors, sparkling and glimmer with each turn. The light hits in it such a way that’s as if it’s made from magic.

You manage to brush it off their questions by mumbling that you found it somewhere. But when you’re the one who bombards them with questions, if they know who could’ve possibly made it or if someone’s ever bought something like this, they absolutely have no idea.

“I’m hungry.” Jin complains, immaturely whining and putting his head on your shoulder. “I’m hungry. Buy something for me.”

In addition to Seokjin being innocent and naive, you learn he’s quite childish. It feels like you’re babysitting a toddler.

“Go buy something then!”

“I don’t know what tastes good.” He pouts and then speeds up to walk alongside you. “Why isn’t anything working out? How come no one knows anything?”

“Beats me.” You shrug, slowing down and looking at the market stands. “Did you really think it would be easy though? Quite honestly, of all the places I’ve been, I’ve never seen a glass slipper in my life before...how does someone even walk in that without the glass shattering and causing your feet to bleed?”

You tap his shoulder to stop. “Wait here.” Seokjin nods and obeys your word like the puppy that he is.

When you leave him, he takes the opportunity to look around. The market is bustling with his citizens, the sky bright blue and the ocean whips waves every so often. It’s refreshing. His entire life has been comprised of being trapped in castle walls, studying and reading. Whenever he could have fun, it was either wandering around the royal gardens or boring games of chess, all under close supervision.

This is the first time that he’s been out. The first time when he can breathe the fresh air, see the people that he’ll be governing….

“Here.” You return shortly after, putting some bread into his hands. “Eat up.”

Jin stares at it and his eyes flicker up to you. Somehow without needing to say anything, he’s already caught on- “Did you pay for this?”

“Of course I did…” You laugh nervously. “Stop asking questions and just eat it.”

“You didn’t pay for it, did you?” The Prince eyes you and you make no reply. “Y/N.”

“I didn’t okay?” You whisper out harshly. “But hurry up before we get caught!”

Jin scoffs at you and pushes you aside. He disregards your ‘what the hell are you doing?!’ and marches right up to the stand. He pulls several golden coins out of his pocket and hands it to the lady. “Thank you for this.” She’s bewildered but takes the money anyhow. The older woman is charmed by his good looks, not interrogating him and luckily she doesn’t realize who it really is.

“Was that so difficult?” He walks back to you, taking a big ol’ bite. “Are you a criminal or what?” As it comes out of his mouth, you watch his eyes widen. “Oh my- you’re that girl! The one I ran into! I knew I saw someone!”

“You’re mistaken, your majesty.” You grit out, emphasizing his title. Grabbing onto his sleeve, you drag him along. “I’m a travelling merchant. Just...sometimes things happen to appear in my pockets.”

“So you’re a kleptomaniac?” He laughs out loud. “You’re a criminal then.”

“And at this rate, I’m a kidnapper too.” You spit out, hurling him towards the alley. Jin almost yells out but you cover his lips with your hand. He looks down in his fist and is thankful that the bread didn’t fling out. “Shush.”

Two royal guards are looking around and fortunately enough, they stop right by the alleyway without seeing you.

“Have you seen him at all?” One says to the other, murmuring to his companion. “I can’t believe the prince is lost.”

“Maybe he was kidnapped by that girl.” He shudders. “She was quite feisty when we took her in.”

“Shh…” The other looks around. “Not too loudly. Remember what the king said? We have to bring him back without drawing any attention. It would be bad if people knew.”

“Right. Well then, I’ll probably head left. You should lead right. If you run into anyone or anything, just shout it out and a bunch of us will come running.”

The man nods in agreeance, “Let’s find his royal highness before we get into trouble.”

A sigh of relief blows from your parted lips when the guards walk away. Though when you turn back to the prince who’s, quite literally, in your hands….you realize he’s been gazing at you the entire time. The pair of you are pressed up right next to each other and you don’t miss the way his pupils are focused on your lashes and flickers down to your cupid’s bow. He smirks against your palm and then…

“Did you just kiss my hand?!” You draw away from him with a disgusted expression.

Seokjin laughs menacingly and takes a chomp of his bread. He goes on ahead without waiting for you. “Where are we off to next, fair maiden?”

You’re starting to realize that the prince is indeed a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

//

“I haven’t seen something so delicate and beautiful before. In all my years…” The spectacles of the old man glassmaker sits on the tip of his nose. “This is absolutely phenomenal.”

He nurses the glass slipper in his hands. You look at him carefully. “So...do you know where this might’ve come from?”

“I-...” The man sighs and sets down his glasses. “I really can’t say. I’ve never seen something like this.”

You and Jin trade looks, disappointment washing over his features and you let out a heavy breath. “I can say however…” The glassmaker wraps the shoe back into its parchment. “...there might be a place….”

“A place?!” Jin leans over the table, his orbs sparkling. You try to tug him down but to no avail. Thankfully, the old man is without his glasses and cannot discover that it’s the royal prince inside his modest shop. “What place is it?”

“On the outskirts of the next town over, slightly into the countryside.” The glassmaker chuckles at his enthusiasm. “My old friend there has a shop much like this one but he has a shoemaker for a wife, so I bet they’d know a thing or two. It looks like something they’d make together anyways.”

“Thank you.” Seokjin grabs the man’s hands, bowing his head slightly with a huge grin on his face. You shuffle him over, mumbling ‘alright, alright’ while you scribble down the directions.

As you finish, you find Jin closely gazing at all the trinkets in the cases. The sunlight refracts against the ornaments and radiates a light onto his face, reflecting in shades of the rainbow. “Your husband is very lovely, madam.” The old man chortles and you stare at the prince with a hum.

There’s no point in correcting him. “I suppose so.” And for some reason, you don’t want to either.

“Are you okay?” Kim Seokjin lowers his head to meet your glued eyes and his lips are pouted together cutely. “Fair maiden, what are you thinking about so deeply that you can’t even hear me right now?”

“N-nothing.” You finally get a grip on yourself, peeling your irises away from his. A heat creeps up on your cheeks but you ignore it, clearing your throat loudly. “I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“The royal guards are inspecting everyone who’s leaving. How will we-”

Jin frowns when you don’t finish your sentence. His eyes follow your line of sight, straight onto the- “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“That’s….”

“It’s the only way.”

You capture his hand, pulling him towards it and the man in your grasps whimpers.

//

The sun soon falls and the moon takes its place, the sky shifts into a black shade like a flickering candle has been blown out. It would be otherwise freezing cold but you’re pulled up right against him. The royal highness whose mint breath ghosts across your skin, so close that you can hear his heartbeat and every inhale he takes. It’s been hours since you’ve been like this.

The two of you snuck onto a hay cart that was being transported to the next town over. It was being pulled by a horse and a farmer that was partially blind and a little bit dumb. He didn’t realize that there were two humans under the itchy blanket covering his hay. And the soldier that let him pass also failed to realize this.

You both have managed to escape successfully but at what cost?

You’re extremely uncomfortable, your side sore and you haven’t been able to move an inch; too scared that the man who’s whistling and leading the horse would notice. Thus, the pair of you are still facing each other like lovers in bed, except each of you are diverting your eyes, refusing to look at the other. 

It’s been hours. And by the farmer talking to himself, you figured out that there was three more to go.

“Fair maiden…” Jin murmurs quietly and the velvet of his soft voice immediately grabs your attention. You wonder why he keeps calling you that. “You told me you’re a merchant traveller. But where is your travelling group?”

He supposed that talking to you would pass the time more quickly and be far less awkward. Plus, he was incredibly curious about you. There were so many things that he hungered to know.

“I’ve been playing it solo for awhile...just travelling on my own.”

A bit more truthfully, it was because you never felt included with them. They were all business-oriented, calculating and strict with the schedule. You preferred to play it by ear and see where unknown paths lead you. At some point, you felt too held back and decided to take a short break from the other merchants.

“How did you become one?”

A direct question like that would usually feel intrusive. But rather, you could feel the sincerity within his sparkling eyes. Jin was genuinely curious about you. He wanted to know more about the outside world after being stuck within the palace his entire life.

“I’m actually an orphan.” You reminisce with a smile. “And was not a very obedient child.”

Prince Jin muffles some laughter as he sinks his teeth into his bottom plush lip. “I can see that.”

“Someone eventually took me to sell me as a slave.” Jin frowns and is disgusted by the idea of human trafficking - especially since it involves you. “But then I proved myself useful with my...naturally…..talented hands…” You laugh nervously about revealing your stealing tendencies to a law-abiding prince. “So I was instead traded off and the merchants decided to keep me until I was old enough to help with their business.”

You don’t know why you’re telling him so much but Jin is a listening ear that you’ve never had before. He’s sincerely interested and not just asking to create small talk. “I’m actually looking for a ship.”

He smiles brightly. “Why?” Even in the darkness, he can tell your eyes are glittering at the topic.

“For adventure. My entire life I’ve been going on foot and I’ve only heard about the merchants who go to sea. It looks so wonderful and beautiful out there...freeing. Not only that but a ship is a great way to escape easily.”

Jin laughs even louder. The farmer doesn’t notice as he’s halfway to dozing off and still whistling to himself. “So, you want to be a pirate? Raid and steal and then flee?”

“No….” You pout and he represses the urge to squish your cheeks together.

“You know….if you work for the King, you’d have to go on a lot of trips overseas. You could see the world and do all of the things you’ve wanted to do.”

“What are you implying?” You look at him with a serious expression. “That I become your royal subject? Or your royal advisor?”

Suddenly, there’s a bump in the road. The wheel of the cart strikes directly at a rock and the cart jostles violently. You feel yourself hitting the side and you shut your eyes tight to not make a sound. Instinctively, your hands jolt out to grab onto his shirt but before you’ve even realized, Jin’s already secured an arm over your waist to keep you still.

If you were close to him before, now you were pressed right up against him.

“That you stay with me.”

Your heart stutters and your tongue refuses to roll off words. You blink at him harshly, barely able to see his features when it’s this dark out and your only source of light is the moonwash pouring through the holes of the blanket. “I’m a free woman.”

“Then what would it take for me to keep you?”

You swallow hard and he smirks. “Would I have to steal your heart?”

At the greasy line, your mesmerization is shattered. You scoff and roll your eyes. “Not if I steal yours first, Seokjin.” It’s rude to address him without his royal title and he’s been wired to punish anyone who doesn’t but with you, he likes it too much.

He’s definitely not as innocent as you thought he was.

//

It’s an hour away from midnight by the time you arrive. You’re snickering in giggles as the both of you help each other climb out of the cart. “HEY!” The farmer shouts but by then, you and Jin are already holding hands and booking it into the trees.

You make it onto the street of the small town and remarkably, it’s flitting with people.

The doors of all the shops are open. The lights of the interior are glowing out to the cobblestone path. The scent of baked bread lingers in the crisp air and there are children running around with each other. Street performances are playing and families huddled together, reminding you of a festival. It’s a warm ambience.

“So, you just...fell in love with her?”

It was your turn to ask questions. And you couldn’t stop yourself from prying about this mysterious girl that he was this desperate to seek out.

“Yes.” He exhales breathlessly, nose bitten red from the chills. “It was simply love at first sight. It’s a feeling. I knew she was my true love.”

You’re silent for a long time. “....uh huh..well then.” When Jin looks over, he realizes that you’re holding in your laughter.

He halts in his tracks and crosses his arms like a child throwing a tantrum. “Why are you laughing?”

You allow your giggles to break free and you apologize as you wipe your eyes. “It seems ridiculous, don’t you think? How did you know it was true love? All from just one dance?”

Seokjin is visibly frustrated when he throws his head backwards and spins to face you. “You just don’t understand. It’s this feeling...ugh!” He can’t explain it in words and at that moment you’re about to laugh again, a yelp falls from your mouth.

Kim Seokjin grabs you and begins dancing to the man playing the fiddle.

“What are you doing?” You whisper out harshly, looking around in embarrassment. There are a few children dancing too but no adult and certainly not in the way you two are.

His palm is clasped against yours, other hand on the small of your back while your hand is placed on his shoulder. It’s a less fancy version of the waltz, incorporated with some dramatic twirls in the middle of the slow pace. Jin laughs but you manage to step in time with him.

“You dance?”

“Not really.”

“Lies.” He grins, watching as each time his foot moves back, yours moves forward. You’re dancing impeccably and though not as gracefully as a duchess or an aristocrat, he enjoys being kept on his toes. “Where did you learn?”

You shrug, not noticing how several people have stopped to observe you both in astonishment and how more children are joining in. The fiddler is smiling wide, picking up with his playful tune. “I travelled a lot so I picked up a few things along the way.”

Jin dips you backwards deeper than necessary but his arm is secured around your waist, pulling you right back up to him. You laugh at the movement and the pair of you continue to move fluidly. His hood is down, face revealed in the lights but no one for a second would even suspect that he’s the prince. Who could even imagine that he would be on the street of the town next over, dancing with a merchant girl.

But he is. He’s right here with you in his arms. Jin is leading and you’re swaying to the rhythm, pressed against his body. He’s holding you close to him, millimeters away and an inch from your noses touching. You’re holding your breath without meaning to. It’s strangely intimate. To the point where your heart races and you feel like you’re melting into sweet cream.

“This is the feeling.” He says in a mellow murmur. “This is it.”

Prince Kim Seokjin with a mop of brown hair and rounded eyes is most definitely not innocent.

You’ve made a huge mistake believing that he was a naive boy. No. He’s a snake in tall grass. A mischievous trickster, a wolf in sheep’s clothing and he knows exactly what he’s doing. With his little, sly smirk and his irises flickering down to your lips…..he knows you’re heated clay in his fingertips.

And you’re falling for it.

The two of you are leaning in for a kiss, his forehead grazing against yours and the strands of his locks tickling your skin. You’re focused on his soft lips, waiting for them to touch yours. The moment has been long awaited……

You falter.

Jin opens up his eyes again and gazes into yours with worry, wondering why you stopped.

“What are you going to do when you find her? That girl that you’ve been looking for.”

He swallows hard, knowing that he’s come this far and has no other choice now.

“I have to marry her.”

Midnight strikes the clock.

//

In the morning, you easily find the little store on the corner of the street.

There’s an awkward tension dawdling but neither you nor Jin addresses it. The adventure you have with him is ending soon and that’s all you can focus on. He wants to find the girl. And you’ve agreed to help him. Any minute now, you’ll be parting ways.

“Do you know who might’ve made this or who bought it?” You whisper, side glaring at the milkmaid who’s obviously eavesdropping. “It’s very important.”

The man calls over his wife and the two inspect the glass slipper together. They’re both concentrated and in awe at the magical shoe that glimmers with every turn. Jin is hitching his breath as your hands are clenched in anticipation. This could be it.

The woman opens her mouth- “I’m sorry. We don’t know.”

It’s a dead end. Again.

Seokjin doesn’t speak a word when you’re exiting through the door. He thanks them and catches up with you fairly quickly. “Y/N-” You’re on the verge of crying and he realizes it in a heartbeat. “Hey...it’s okay.”

“Aren’t you a bit worried?! We’ve been running in circles! There are no answers no matter where we go!” You take the glass slipper that’s wrapped in parchment from his hands. “Why?!” And in the instant of your frustrated recklessness, the fragile object slips from your fingers….

Smashing onto the ground in a million fragments.

Jin doesn’t flinch. You stare at the particles sparkling in the light…..and you burst out crying. “What the fuck?!” The passersby are all glance at you and the prince has no choice but to drag you away from the scene before you draw too much attention.

Yes. He feels like choking you to death but at the same time he doesn’t. Instead, he hooks his arm over your shoulder and buries your crying face into his velvet cloak as he walks off. “Stop crying.” The royal heir commands you in an authoritative, low tone. “Y/N. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“I’m sorry.” You wipe your face with your sleeves, still upset to no end. Why are you such an idiot? And why were you getting so emotional? “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Seokjin finally lets you go in an isolated area and he pats your head reassuringly. He never expected you to have a clumsy side and with you in hysterics...he finds it a little bit adorable.

You hiccup once, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. The shoe is long gone and he didn’t even bother to pick up a shard to keep. Everything he’s worked for has been ruined. “How will we search for her now?”

“Well, she should have the other shoe. And I’ll know.” Jin taps his head, indicating his memories and he smiles at you. “You were right after all. It’s kind of stupid to use a shoe.”

He trails away and mutters something under his breath. “MaybeIdon’tneedtofindher.”

“What?” You frown, catching up with him. Unfortunately, you can’t ask for any clarification when the milkmaid from earlier comes running from behind.

“Excuse me! Excuse me!” She’s waving her arm frantically, heaving out her lungs as she grabs her knees to take back her breath. “I-”

Jin’s immediately on guard. “Is there something we can help you with?”

“The...the shoe.” She wheezes out and places her braids back into place when she realizes how handsome he is. “I..my name is Mag. I’m Mag the Milkmaid and I couldn’t help but overhear earlier. It looked familiar like I’ve seen it from somewhere before.”

You and Jin exchange looks.

“I only remembered after you left!” Mag tries to explain herself. “The night of the royal ball...the one where the prince was looking for his maiden…I couldn’t go since my son was ill but I remember seeing this beautiful girl who was wearing the exact same shoe. A very peculiar thing. That’s why I remember it.”

“Oh.” -is all Jin manages to let out.

“Do you know where she is?” You take a step forward, a huge grin forming on your lips.

“Yes! From the house over there!” She points down the long street. “It’s at the end of the road. The family there received an invitation for the ball.”

The both of you thank her graciously and she’s happy to help, skipping on her merry way.

“Aren’t you excited?!” You grab onto Jin’s arm. The guilt that had caused you to melt down has vanished. “This is great news.”

“Yeah.” His lips are tight and he nods firmly. “This is great.”

Seokjin isn’t as visibly happy as you expected him to be. Maybe he’s internalizing it or perhaps like you, he can’t believe it. It’s done. She’s really here. He’ll find the girl of his dreams and they’ll be whisked away into marriage. You don’t dwell on any of those thoughts, rushing to the place that the milkmaid had described.

Your fist knocks on the wooden door thrice. You wonder if there’s anyone home when a full minute passes. “Maybe we’ll just come back another day-” Jin’s cut off short when you pound the door with all your might.

“Who is it?!” An angry shout sounds from within and the door is pulled open. An older woman in a puke coloured dress is on the other side, wearing a disgusted expression and her hand on her hip. “And who are you?!”

You clear your throat, sneaking a peak at the prince behind you. He’s keeping his face downcasted behind his hood and when his eyes catch a glimpse, he shakes his head. That’s not her.

“Does anyone else live in this household?” You clear your throat to sound dominant when she doesn’t budge an inch. “I am a messenger from the Kim Royal Family. I was sent by Prince Seokjin himself.”

The lady’s mouth drops open. She stutters, eyes bulging and she scrambles. “O-..of course! Come in, come in! My apologies! I just didn’t know who you were. I’m so sorry things might be a mess. My goodness! My goodness!”

The two of you step into her abode. “This is my associate.” You motion to Jin when she glances at him doubtingly.

“Sit down, sit down.” She forces you to the sofa. “Have some tea.” And she pours something lumpy into the tea cups. “I’ll be back in just a moment. Make yourselves at home.”

The way she twirls is quite elegant but the facade is immediately broken when she sticks her head by the staircase. “Girls!” Her voice is terribly shrill and it rings in your ear. Jin, sitting beside you, also visibly cringes. “Girls! Get down here this instant!”

“What is it now, mom?!” “Don’t you see that we’re busy?!” Heaving footsteps shake the ceiling and they come rumbling downstairs like bulls.

“Get yourself in order!” The older woman pinches her daughters and whispers too loudly. “Someone from the royal palace is here.”

The two girls gasp, straightening out their hair and dresses. They bump each other to use the mirror in the hall, cursing underneath their breaths and picking out the boogers hanging from their noses. You sigh, waiting for them patiently and soon enough, they come sauntering into the living room.

“Good afternoon.” They murmur in unison, dipping themselves. “How can we be of service?”

“Yes. Just..uh...lift your heads.”

The girls look at you in confusion but obey. You hitch your breath, focusing your eyes onto Jin’s. He gawks at them and….shakes his head. “They’re not her.” He leans in to whisper and you sigh.

“Is there anyone else in this household?”

The older woman laughs nervously. “Of course there isn’t. There’s no one else. I can guarantee you that.”

If there was one thing you know after working in the burglary business all your life - you know when someone’s acting suspicious.

“Y/N?” Jin stands up after you when you march past the women.

“Excuse me!” They trail after you in sharp exhales, dramatic gasps following. “Excuse me!”

You break into every single room, kicking down every single door. “This is highly inappropriate!” The middle aged woman screams after you, sounding like a predoctoral as everyone parades up the stairs behind you. “Excuse me! NO!”

There’s a locked door leading up to where the attic is. “NO!” You ignore the distraught woman’s scream, not hesitating to bring up your leg. The door goes flying off the hinges as you boot out your foot. The ladies mouths drop open and even Jin is mesmerized at your brute strength.

“You…” There’s a girl that you come face to face with, a peasant whose beautiful enough to become queen. She looks gentle and kind, staring up at you from her seated place on the floor. Her eyes are rounded and wide, seemingly innocent. And her blue gown drapes around her.

“How dare you lie to the prince and the royal family?!” You turn to shout at the women who are scowling at the girl. “You will be rightfully punished for your deceit!” It appals you how dirty and dusty the attic is. You can only shudder when you consider how long the girl’s been locked in here for.

“You’re her, aren’t you?”

The girl stands up, not answering your question and her eyes are connected to the man who pushes himself into the room. Seokjin is without a smile. His gaze is on you. “It’s her.”

Those simple words spoken are enough to overwhelm you. The unknown girl beams and runs into the prince’s arms. “You found me.” She buries her dirtied, pink cheeks into his shoulder. The edges of your lips manage to raise.

He’s found her. “Congratulations.”

Kim Seokjin never stops staring at you.

Cinderella is a nice girl, albeit her name is quite strange. She’s pleasant and compassionate, making it difficult for you to come up with reasons to hate her. All this time, you imagine their love to be shallow but they match well together…..

“I promise your stepmother and stepsisters won’t bring you any harm for the rest of your days.” You reassure her, holding her hands with your own. “They will be punished for what they have done to you.”

“They are still my family...” She murmurs and then smiles gleefully. “Thank you. For everything that you’ve done. I haven’t had a chance to speak much to the prince but he’s spoken very kindly about you. You’ve helped him a lot...and you’ve helped me.”

“Please.” You roll your eyes. “The guy doesn’t compliment anyone but himself.”

She frowns and tips her head to one side. “No. I don’t believe that’s true. He showered you with praise in our conversation.”

“Oh.”

“Ladies. Are you ready? It’ll take a few hours before we arrive at the castle and it’s best if we move before sundown.” The squire is smiling widely, thankful to Heaven and Earth that the prince is in healthy condition and very well alive. It’s been weeks since his grand escape. Upon hearing where he was and how he found the girl of his dreams, a royal carriage was sent urgently to get him.

“Yes.” Cinderella steps inside the carriage. “Are you not coming in with us?”

Jin’s looking out the window and the feeling of sourness somehow appears back on your tongue. “I’m fine. I’ll just sit up front with the coachman.”

The man inside who you’ve been spending day and night with doesn’t spare you a single glimpse. It makes you even more infuriated. “Move.” You misdirect your irritation to the squire.

“Oh, you’re joining us?”

He yelps when you take a huge chunk of the seat, squishing the squire and the coachman right next to each other until the smaller man is practically on the lap of the other. “Alright then. Shall we? Hiyah.” The coachman lightly whips the reins of the horses and it moves forward.

The entire trip back to the castle, you’re mumbling to yourself. The two men at your side frown and exchange glances with each other, wondering if you’ve gone mad. The sound of the girl’s chirpy laughter drifts out. It takes everything in your willpower not to turn around.

Jin can marry and love any girl he wants.

Yet...why are you so upset?

“Are you alright, miss?” The squire inquires for the sake of your sanity.

“I’m quite fine, thank you.” You cut him off short, refusing to speak. With a deep breath, you focus on your surroundings instead.

The sceneries change, town into forest, the bright blue sky into a tangerine hue. It’s quite lovely to be outdoors and refreshing when you take large inhales of the fresh air. Four hours pass by until you’ve arrived back into the borders that you desperately tried to escape so long ago.

The castle comes into view and soon enough, the royal guards are swarming.

“Hey!” One rapidly points as you hop down. “It’s that girl! The thief!”

You’re surprised that the guard still remembers and you nod in amusement. Almost instantly, Seokjin is at your side and he raises his hand in front of you like a shield. “There is no such thing.”

“But-” Another soldier taps the boy’s shoulder and after a swap of expressions, he stands down. “My apologies, your majesty.”

“Isn’t it great to be home...your majesty?” You tease Jin, having not heard the title in a while.

He giggles with you. “Oh, what a home this place is.”

“Is there something humourous?” Cinderella interrupts without bad intentions, genuinely curious as her eyes flicker between the both of you.

“Oh no. It’s just that...I don’t really address him with that title which I know sounds bad since he is prince but uh-” You don’t know exactly how to explain yourself but you don’t need to when the squire comes running back.

“Prince Seokjin!” He’s breathless and dying with his tiny legs. “The King and Queen are calling for your presence immediately!”

Cinderella grabs onto his hand and you stare at it for a second too long. “That doesn’t sound good.”

You smile meekly at his panicked expression. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“Yeah.” Jin returns the smile but in a more sheepish fashion, discreetly letting go of the other girl’s hand. “Let’s hope so.”

The King and Queen are indeed furious with their son. But their anger thaws into relief and happiness when they realize the girl he was looking for has been found. If he’s truly in love with her like how he described, how can you be bitter?

You’re happy for him…..

……. ….. …

Who are you kidding? You’re a thief. Not a liar.

//

“Knock knock.”

His mischievous grin is seen through the crack of the door and you wonder how such a silly and childish man will someday rule the country. “You know there’s no point in you opening the door and then saying ‘knock knock’ as you knock, right?” You set your belongings aside, plopping down on the bed as he enters.

“How are things?” You ask him. “I haven’t seen you around. You’re so busy these days. Guess the prince is useful after all.”

“Psh. Of course I’m useful. Do you know who I am?” He smiles and sits next to you, finally feeling comfortable after sitting in a long meeting with other dukes and attendants. Jin even kicks off his shoes and relaxes himself. “Things have been fine.” His voice softens and he hesitates. “When are you planning to go?”

“Oh ho ho. Are you planning to kick me out already? After all this time that I’ve helped you? You won’t let me stay here to bask in the luxury for awhile?”

Seokjin pouts and he mumbles, “I never said you couldn’t stay.”

“I don’t know.” You answer truthfully before you decide to tease him some more. “You’re going to give me a ship, right? Well I mean...you don’t have to but since I’ve helped you so much…” You expect a snide comment or maybe for him to actually gift you your biggest desire. But when he makes no comment, you decide to be more serious.

“I might leave soon.”

“You should stay.”

“Yeah...maybe I will.” You nod and let your voice linger off. Then you clear your throat when the air becomes too intimate and you become hyper aware of his close proximity. “Maybe I’ll stay a little while longer. Until the royal wedding.”

He makes a sound, half between a scoff and a laugh. “The wedding....right.”

“When is it? Haven’t you proposed yet?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean ‘I don’t know’?” You’re utterly confused at his behaviour, even moreso when he stands and begins to pace in front of you. “You said you’d marry her. It’s what the King and Queen and everyone in this kingdom wants. It’s what you want...right?’

“I don’t know.” He halts and exhales a huge breath. “I just don’t know, Y/N.”

Jin is frantic. You already know what’s bothering him...he just doesn’t know how to propose.

“Look. It really isn’t that difficult. You don’t have to be worried. Any way that you do it will be perfect. Girls eat up anything that’s romantic. She’ll say yes. You and I both know that. Don’t be nervous.”

“That’s not it-”

“Watch.” It’s too painful for you to see him lost. Yes, he’s not as innocent as you thought he was but sometimes you just have to show him how it’s suppose to be done.

“What are you doing?” He watches as you get down on one knee and his breathing hitches when you gaze back into his eyes. “Y/N.”

“Kim Seokjin.” You call his name softly and a creep of a blush sweeps up your cheeks, past your bashful smile. “When I first met you...I was going to raid this entire castle from top to bottom.” He laughs quietly and you giggle. “We haven’t known each other for too long. Probably not long enough to jump into this sort of thing. And I’m sure the both of us who are adult children are nowhere near ready for marriage.”

What started off as a joke has turned into something incredibly sincere. Each word that whispers from your parted lips is dripping with genuinity. “But being on this adventure with you has made me realize something. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I want to be with you.”

“If we can spend the rest of our lives having silly adventures together then I want nothing more.” You inhale a staggering breath, “Will you marry me, Jin?”

“Yes.” He blurts it out without thinking twice. “I’ll marry you.”

The pretend proposal closes up nicely and you hop onto your toes. “See? That wasn’t so difficult. Now you just have to do the real-”

“No.” He strides up to you and engulfs you in his arms. “I want to marry you. For real.”

“What?”

Jin pulls away and he gazes at you in absolute adoration and devotion, gliding his eyes on each of your features. He represses the urge to kiss you right then and there when you’re staring back at him in such confusion. “I want to marry you. Everything that you said...I want to say back at you. You’re ridiculous, Y/N. But I love you.”

“I love the way you can break into someone’s house need be. The way you know what you want. The way that you’re fearless and I didn’t fall in love with you just from one dance. I fell in love with you for who you are and everything that you are….and I am sounding like such a sap, aren’t I?”

“You are.” You grin back at him. “But….I-...what...what are we going to do? We just went searching for this girl and now she thinks you’re going to marry her!”

Seokjin grabs you into another embrace, digging his nose into your shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. We always do. And I’m sure she’s understanding.”

“Are you sure about this, Jin?”

“I’ve never been more sure in my life.”

//

Turns out that Cinderella isn’t as understanding as you wished her to be. When the two of you broke the news out to her (granted not very well as you kept on delaying the message), she bursted out the room in tears.

The King and Queen are also shocked at their son’s indecisiveness - though they’re not completely surprised with his behaviour. But once they find Jin’s eyes pinned on you, they’re relieved. It’s not like the first time around.

They can tell that this time - it’s true.

“Announcing...the royal engagement of the Prince and the Princess!”

The squire declares it in the courtyard and all the townspeople cheer, throwing up confetti. Jin looks absolutely amazing in his suit, despite him complaining that it’s uncomfortable. Your own attire is a golden dress that falls from your hips like raindrops to the sky. The corset is much too tight for your liking but you suppose you can bear with it when your fiancé can’t stop himself from staring.

At the very least, your toes aren’t being pinched to death. You fought with your life against the maids and in the end, you won. You’re not wearing any fancy shoe or even glass slippers. Just the plain old leather loafers that you’ve grown to love.

The sea is sparkling in a rich cerulean shade that matches the sky. You have never felt happier to be in the place that you are. And the celebrations have just begun.

The children giggle and murmurs of how beautiful the pair are murmured from ear to ear. Cinderella is caught within your line of vision and you find the tears on her face long dried. The coachman is keeping her company and even causing her to laugh with mirth. The King and Queen from their seats, themselves, are exchanging chuckles.

“You know we’re going to have a really long engagement, right?” You lean over to whisper in his ear. “You still haven’t convinced me enough.”

The mischievous prince smirks. “Have I not stolen your heart, love?”

“Hm...I wouldn’t say that.”

“You’ll still be a free woman.” He tells you as he holds your hands. “And I’ve already promised to see the world with you. What else do you need?”

Your hand tightens in his and you plant a gentle kiss on his lips. “I just want to make sure you won’t go running off with a different girl when you have a great dance with her.”

He laughs and kisses you back. “I won’t fall in love with anyone else but you.”

The day bleeds into night. Jin is by your side until the end. Midnight strikes the clock.

[captainkirkmccoy]

Jim’s fingers tapped out morse code on his jumping leg. 

B-O-N-E-S

When he was through, he started again. 

A cool hand covered his and pressed it gently onto his knee, stilling both. 

“It’s illogical to be nervous.” His business partner, Spock, told him. 

Jim snorted. “I don’t know what I’m more worried about--that he’ll punch me in my face or laugh in my face.”

Spock considered his options. “Both are possible.”

Jim threw his head back, banging into the headrest. They were three hours into their four hour trip to Atlanta, and there was a ring in his pocket that he picked out five-years-ago, hoping, praying that one day he’d be able to give it to his best friend. Spock had called him illogical then too. 

“You didn’t see his face, Spock.” Jim pushed his palms into his closed eyelids, color exploding behind them. A headache was starting to form there and he was sure he was going to throw up. 

“If you believe that Leonard’s feelings for you are true, then there is nothing to fear, Jim.”

Jim had fallen in love with his best friend way before he knew what falling in love meant. Having lost his father before he was even born, he hardly had a functional couple role-model, and spent most of his adolescence thinking of Bones as his hero, protector, partner-in-crime. It wasn’t until his sophomore year of high school, when Bones had taken Jocelyn Darnell to prom, that Jim realized that he was 1) Bi and 2) so deeply in love with Bones that it hurt to see them line up on the lawn across the street for pictures. It hurt to think of Bones anywhere but with him. 

He had thought distance and experimentation was the best way to fall out of love with Bones. He spent summers at his grandparents’ estate in Iowa, distancing himself from the person he physically hurt at leaving behind. 

“What if I was wrong? What if he was just pissed over something else?

***

Leonard McCoy made his way through the packed lunch crowd of Persimmons, dodging shopping bags and the pushed backed chairs of the Atlanta Elite. The exclusive establishment was a bit too high brow for his taste, he hated any restaurant that had a dress code, but his best friend of over thirty-years, Nyota Uhura, refused to discuss business anywhere else. 

And there she was, in her usual corner circle table by the fireplace, where she could be found at any day of the week, holding court over her media contacts and the various waitstaff that fawned over her. 

He kissed her cheek and took his place in the high backed seat across from her, noting the wine glass that was stained red that told him she’d been working here for the day already. 

“So?” He asked, rubbing his hands together as he waved away a waiter that tried to offer him a wine menu. “Is it possible?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s possible. It’s done, in fact.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. 

“But...” She tapped a quick message out on her phone and pushed it aside before letting her chin fall into her palm, propping her elbow up on the table in a way that he was sure she would never do if he were one of her contacts. 

“But what?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” 

“Two weeks ago you were about to move across the world to get away from him. Now you’re proposing?”

Leo avoided her eyes to nod at the waiter, who was standing attentively waiting his order on the other side of the fireplace. “A whisky neat. Please?”

Nyota narrowed her eyes at him but he ignored her. 

“It took me a while but I get it now.”

“You’re going to need to give me a bit more than that.”

“I love him.” This was said quietly, drowned out by the gentle crackle of the fire. Nyota heard it though. She didn’t miss a thing. 

“I just--” She shook her head. “I love you both.” At his raised eyebrow, she screwed up her mouth. “If you admit that to Kirk, I will quit and you’ll have to found a new PR exec.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“So why now? It’s been...thirty something years?”

“I’m an idiot that took too long to figure things out. And when I realized that it would be months until I saw him again--with the way we left things..things just clicked.”

She rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Men.”

The waiter placed the highball glass in front of him and he took a sip, relishing in the warmth that spread at the smallest amount. 

“Thank you.” He told her after twenty minutes of going over details--Nyota wasn’t called the best publicist in town for nothing, her attention to detail and creativeness was unparalleled, which is why he knew he could trust her with something as important and terrifying as this. 

***

Jim knew he had to see Bones. Now. 

He would lose his nerve if he didn’t and Bones was fucking nowhere to be found. 

Finally, after his third trip to Zoc Doc, the emergency clinic that Bones ran, a car pulled up just outside the curb. 

“Aye! Get in Jimmy boy!”

Jim ducked his head to see through the passenger door. “Scotty?”

“You better get in, lad. Got a bit of a trip.”

Jim did. 

What followed was an exercise in patience and managing his nerves. He almost threw up, he was so anxious, the ring burning a hole in his pocket, his fingers aching from how tight he gripped the edges of the leather seats. 

They went by the elementary school where they met and Bones stood up for him on the playground. 

They went to the Stewart’s where Jim worked and where Bones used to keep his company on Sunday night late shifts. 

They went by the wheat fields where Jim used to pretend to run away to and Bones would always find him and make him realize that there was something worth coming home to. 

At every place was a notecard with a clue for the next place. If this was Bones’ apology tour, he was getting damn nostalgic with it 

Scotty was no help, obviously. Just shepherded Jim from place to place with a grin and uncharacteristic silence. 

“You’re not even going to give me a hint?” Jim grumbled, climbing into the backseat after the fourth place. 

“Nah.” Scotty said and pulled away from the orchard where Jim had broken his arm and Bones had carried him into town. 

The car slowed on a familiar tree-lined streets where the houses started out close together and grew far apart with every passing mailbox. 

“We’re going home?” Jim whispered. 

This was the street he grew up on. The street he had met Bones on. Had watched from a window across the street, using walkie talkies to communicate and staying up late to use morse code through their flashing lamps and flashlights until a parent yelled at them to go to bed already. 

And on the lawn of Jim’s childhood house--where his mom still lived-- was Bones. Fucking gorgeous, with just enough stubble that Jim felt a bit weak. If he weren’t sitting he might have swooned, Jesus Christ. 

Jim breathed deep, in and out, like Bones used to tell him to when the panic attacks started or he woke from a bad dream at a sleepover. Bones who never told Jim to get over it already, who never left Jim to deal with it on his own, who was always there. 

“Hey,” Bones said when Jim got out of the car. Was he fidgeting? He was!

Jim couldn’t help but grin. “Hey yourself. You going to tell me what this is all about?” 

Bones nodded, reached for him. “I can show you.”

Jim’s heart stopped. He felt like someone had dropped a bucket of ice over his head. “Hold on.” 

Bones raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Hold on. I have something to say first.”

“Really?” Bones frowned. “Because I have something pretty damn important to say first.”

“Wanna bet?”

Bones rolled his eyes. “Go ahead, you infant.”

Jim cleared his throat and then got down on one knee. 

He was not prepared for the string of curses that Bones volleyed at him. 

***

“Are you fucking serious, right now Jim?” Bones felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice on him. His heart stopped. His mouth dried up. 

Jim froze, hand mid reach into his pocket. “Um, yes?”

Bones felt the laugh, hysterical and bursting, bubble up from the pit of his stomach until he was shaking. He threw his head back and howled. 

Jim was up in an instant, hands feeling for his shoulders, his head, his cheeks. “Are you okay? Jesus, you’re not breathing. Jesus.”

Bones leaned forward so that his hands were on his knees as he laughed so hard that his vision blurred. “Marry. Me.” He managed to choke out. 

“Well, yeah, I was going to ask you but um. Obviously it’s hilarious so-”

“No.” Bones straightened, reached into his back jean’s pocket and pulled out a the band that had belonged to Jim’s dad. The one Winona had given him with her blessing. “Marry me?”

Jim’s eyes widened to a comical size. “Oh.”

His answer was to pull Bones into a kiss, a deep, long overdue kiss. 

Somewhere in the background, Spock handed Nyota a hundred dollar bill--a holdover from a bet made some time ago, and Scotty whooped. “FINALLY”! 

[voidslodge]

Void’s Lodge (#2)

Vesaia was sitting in his usual place, drinking his coffee and reading a newspaper that he got from god knows where. I looked upon the otherwise empty inn and couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh. A calm day to relax and wind down is exactly what I needed after that party the dust nymphs threw yesterday. From the name you can probably already imagine that the cleaning afterwards was not a fun time.

Just as I was getting ready to brew myself a warm tea and close shop for the day I heard the one noise I dreaded most of all. The front door opened with a slight creak and from it emerged a figure wreathed in a robe of golden flames. An oppressive aura followed the figure and my expression instantly soured. Only newly ascended gods made such an exaggerated display of power and grandeur, and let me tell you, newbies make for the worst customers; they believe they’re the grandest existences in the universe and that everyone should bow down before them. As if he read my thoughts and was trying to confirm my suspicions, a deep voice resounded through the room, shaking the glasses hanging at the top of the bar, “So this is the famous Void’s Lodge, it doesn’t seem that impressive,” he turned his face towards me and continued speaking with an even more arrogant tone: “Are you the owner? You should be honored that I, Atmos, the God of Fire, have blessed this run-down place with my presence.”

I resisted the strong urge to vomit and put on my fakest fawning expression, I wanted to get this over with as quick as possible: “Welcome to my humble establishment oh your great Majesty! How may I be of help today? Would you like to order something to drink or stay for the night?”

Atmos had made his way to the barstools by this point and sat down right in front of me. He seemed pleased enough with my admiring expression and didn’t seem to notice the sarcasm that was seeping from it. His expression turned even more arrogant somehow and he dismissively spoke while flicking his hand: “I won’t stay in this shabby place for long, but I’ll drink something since you have pleased me with your behavior. Give me your most expensive drink.” I was briefly stunned at this bold request, before speaking with a flat and indifferent tone: “You can’t afford that.”

Atmos seemed to find this funny as he replied laughingly: “There isn’t anything in the universe I can’t afford so just go ahead and serve me, mortal.”

I saw that I wouldn’t be able to change his mind so I turned my attention to the bar and started making what the “fire lord” asked for. Our conversation had caught the attention of Vesaia, who was now looking at Atmos with a mixture of pity and schadenfreude.

Before long, I presented a glass filled with a glowing liquid that shifted between all the colors of the rainbow. On top it was decorated with a slice of lemon that looked like it was made of diamonds. Atmos was completely mesmerized by the cocktail and he slowly began to reach out to grab it but he abruptly froze mid-motion when he heard me talk: “Here you go. That’ll be three Ashtari tears or something of similar worth for the Ying-Yang Cocktail.”

His whole visage contorted in shock and his voice boomed and shook the whole building: “Are you trying to scam me?! I could buy an entire quadrant of the universe for three Ashtari tears and you’re telling me a stupid drink is worth that much?”

I had already expected that reaction so I just calmly began explaining: “This cocktail is made by mixing a drop of Creation, a drop of Destruction, the ashes of a five-colored phoenix and the distilled essences of both a Sun and Moon beast together with the blood of twenty Water Gods. Oh, the lemon on top is a complimentary gift I once got from Persephone so I’m not even charging you for that. Do you still think it’s too expensive?”

The arrogant Fire God had already lost all his previous composure and now just sat slumped down in his chair. At least he was smart enough to not try and escape. Since he already seemed to have accepted his situation I didn’t drag this out any longer and presented him with a piece of paper.

“I know you don’t have any money to pay but I already made the cocktail so you’ll have to drink it and sign this contract. With the boost of the cocktail you should be powerful enough to hunt down some decent ingredients so you’ll be able to pay back this debt in no time. 10 thousand years tops!”

I imagine that at this moment my smile must have been more scary than the devil for this poor guy, but he nevertheless signed the document and sealed the deal with his blood before gulping down the cocktail that had cost him his freedom. And so, Atmos, a God that was revered by billions of people back in his home planet, became a simple employee of the Void’s Lodge.

[shanastoryteller]

they call her maid maleen

for the first few trembling years of her life, she is a princess. she is the daughter to the king, born of his beloved wife and of her visage. her dark eyes have the appearance of a smoky quarts and her mother carefully twists her mass of black hair into a hundred small braids down her back. she is a beautiful, quiet child, and for a while all is well. they call her princess maleen.

then her mother dies. it seems as if the king is determined to bury his love for his daughter along with his queen. he moves her to a different wing of the castle, and refuses to see her. her tutors are let go, and the nobles’ children are no longer allowed to play with her. only the maids look after her now.

the king remarries. the new queen gives birth to a son, and maleen is forgotten completely, banished from a home she still resides in and a life she can now only watch unfold.

the maids take care of her, braid her hair and kiss the blisters on her fingers, teach her to scrub at porcelain and polish silver, to clean a fireplace and mop polished marble floors.

they call her maid maleen.

~

the king has a son by his new wife, and then a daughter. they are pale and fair-haired like their mother, with only their dark eyes to show they are the king’s children. but they inherit none of their parents’ beauty, have faces that don’t look quite right and bodies that get stuck between gangly and chubby and never settle into one or the other. princess gisella and prince jan are privately regarded as unfortunate products of a lovely union.

maid maleen spends long hours working, and has neither the time nor funds for creams to soften her skin or oils to care for her hair, has never used face powder or lip color.

maid maleen is twenty three years old, and the most beautiful woman in the kingdom.

her braids are wrapped carefully atop her head, but when she lets them loose they hang past her hips. her dark skin is made even darker thanks to long hours working in the palace garden, and her eyes have never lost that same curious light. she walks straight and strong, years of hard labor giving her muscles and definition to her body that she never would have had as a princess. boys and girls give her long, considering looks and flirtatious smiles, and nobles have to double-take when she passes them by.

no one speaks of it anymore. but maid maleen looks ever more like her beautiful late mother, has the same eyes as her father, and dressing in ill-fitting cast offs and running her ragged can’t hide the truth.

maid maleen is the king’s daughter.

she has accepted her life as a maid in the palace she was one day set to inherit, and tries to see it as a gift. she sleeps with who she likes, may marry whichever of the charming boys from the city who’s smile she likes best. in the maids who raised her she has more mothers than she has fingers, and perhaps she longs for the days when she was a small princess, when she was the apple of her parents’ eye, when the whole of their nation was to be hers to inherit.

but then the blacksmith’s daughter lets her hands linger a little too long on her wrists, and maleen knows that she won’t be sleeping alone tonight. there are some things that worth more to her than a throne she was born to. she doesn’t miss the little girl she used to be.

until.

tensions have always run high between their kingdom and the neighboring one – too many squabbles over borders, over trade agreements, over patrols, over anything and everything the kings can find a reason to be upset about, it seems like. so when prince wolfgang is sent over, the whole palace is abuzz. the prince seems determined to inherit a peaceful land, and is coming over to talk with the king to do it.

maleen does not care for princes. nor for nobles of any rank, in fact. she remembers how they turned on her, she sees the small acts of pettiness and cruelty they thoughtlessly inflict on their servants, and she wants nothing to do with it. commoners may not be as educated as nobles, may not have as many objects to call their own, but maleen finds she prefers their company to that of lords. she’s uninterested in this prince, which is perhaps why she’s the one that gets sent to his rooms. her moms can trust that she at least won’t fawn over him.

“sir wolfgang,” she murmurs, pushing open his door and giving a low curtsy, keeping her eyes trained on his mud covered boots. “is there anything you require?”

silence. she can only stay bent in a curtsey so long before she loses patience. she’s almost given up on him, is about to cut her losses and call it a night when he says, hesitant, “queen sabine?”

her mother’s name is punch to her gut, and her head snaps up at the sound of it, the rolling fire of her temper bubbling just below her skin. “i am maid maleen,” she snaps, then tacks on “your highness,” after a moment’s consideration.

his cloak is half unbuttoned as he stares at her with a slack mouth. she supposes he would not look unhandsome if he were not currently doing his best to imitate a frog. he appears to be only a handful of years older than she is, and if she were not furious she would be impressed that he remembers her mother well enough to see sabine in her.

“maleen,” he repeats, and for a moment she wonders if he will recognize her as well, but he only says, “my apologies. if you would help me with my cloak, i would be much obliged.”

she’s instantly suspicious. she’s met nice nobles before, ones that were considerate and remembered her name and thanked her when she brought them wine. but she’s never met a nice prince before – they’re always of the worst sort. “yes, your highness,” she says, and the cloak is soaked through and clinging, it’s no wonder he’s struggling with it. once she’s gotten it off she hangs it to dry, then goes back to him. she slaps away his numb, struggling fingers and undoes the rest of the buckles and loops of his overly complicated clothing. she’s gotten down him down to an undershirt and pants when his hands grab hers. she blinks and looks up. he has freckles dusting across his nose.

“this is inappropriate,” he says, but honestly she’s stripped a lot of nobles, it wasn’t weird until he took her hands and looked at her like no one’s ever looked at her before.

“yes, your highness,” she agrees, and takes a step back. she places his clothes in front of a fire, curtsies, and leaves. she can feel the weight of his gaze on her all the way back to her room.

wolfgang continues his diplomatic agenda, having long meetings with the royal family. after, maleen goes and tends to him, setting out his food and taking care of his clothes, straightening up any mess that he’s made. at first he’s quiet, and he just watches her, but he quickly discovers that maleen has opinions and thoughts and isn’t afraid to share them. soon they’re debating the finer points of trade routes and arguing the effectiveness of a sliding tax scale, and maleen comes to cherish the evenings she spends with the prince, likes the way he speaks to her and looks at her, likes the shape of his smile.

weeks in she enters his room, dinner steaming in her hands and eager to continue their conversation about state funded orphanages versus a state funded foster system. he’s pacing and tense, shoulder stiff. “wolfgang,” she sets down the food and wipes her hands on her apron, “is something wrong?”

“is it true?” he asks, and he’s not looking at her. he’s always looked at her before.

“is what true?” she flinches away from his coldness, is already preparing to retreat and hide and beg someone else to watch over him.

he turns to her, and she’s baffled by the mixture of hope and anger on his face. “are you the king’s daughter? are you princess maleen?”

she takes a step back, “i am maid maleen.”

“please,” he follows her as she steps away from him, and her back hits the wall. he stops when he’s almost close enough to touch. “my father sent me here with the goal to seal our new treaty with a marriage. he expects me to marry princess gisella. but if you are the daughter of the king – then he will allow me to marry you instead!”

“who says i want to marry you?” she retorts, but he gets on bended knee and she freezes.

he holds a hand for her own, and against every bit of logic, she gives it to him. “maleen, i’ve never felt this way about anyone. i was willing enough to enter a loveless marriage before i knew what true love is, but now i do, and i can’t go back. marry me.”

she wants to. she thinks she loves him. she hadn’t been planning to fall in love with anyone. “i am the king’s daughter,” she tells him, “but i am no princess. i haven’t been a princess in a long time.”

he brings her hand to his mouth so he can kiss each one of her knuckles, “then we’ll have to change that.”

~

wolfgang goes to the king to make his case, to return maleen to her birthright and allow her to marry him.

it goes even worse than maleen had feared.

her father is furious. he’s so angry at the audacity of this request that prince wolfgang is thrown from the kingdom. so incensed is he, that guards drag maleen from her bed in the middle of the night and throw her into a tower. the door closes shut behind them, and she bangs on it and screams but no one comes for her.

there are no windows, and only one door with a sliding metal grate in the bottom. she’s high in the tower, she thinks, from the number of steps she’d been forced to climb, but she stands on a dirt floor. the room contains only the bare minimum needed for survival, and nothing more.

once a week food is slid through the slot in the door. she has to be careful, because if she eats it too fast they will not provide more, she will just starve. days turn to weeks turn to months, and she despairs of ever being let out of this tower. months turn to years, and she gives up hope entirely of leaving this tower. she considers refusing to eat, killing herself slowly through starvation, because death is preferable to life locked in this tower.

one night there’s a scuffle, and shouting, and for the first time since she was shoved inside the door opens. there’s a guard standing there, and princess gisella tentatively steps inside. “maid ma – i mean, maleen?”

maleen stares. this is the first time she’s seen another person in years, and suddenly for all the screaming she’d done she can’t find her voice. gisella takes another cautious step forward, “maleen, please – we don’t have much time.” she holds out her hand, “come with me.”

gisella is sixteen now. although she’ll never be a great beauty, she’s grown into many of the features that she was once mocked for. “where?” she asks, but takes gisella’s hand and lets her lead them down the twisting staircase. anyplace is better than the tower.

“i’m to be married in a week’s time to prince wolfgang.” maleen feels a sharp pain go through her chest. had wolfgang forgotten her? their farce of a romance was such a quick, shallow thing. she was a fool to fall for it in the first place. “i’m not going to show up. you are.”

she stares, “what?”

“wolfgang started a war over father locking you in the tower,” she explains, “but eventually it got to a point where neither could justify it, so our father and wolfgang’s decided our union would mean peace between our countries, as intended. but i don’t want to marry prince wolfgang, and he does not want to marry me.”

“i don’t understand,” she hadn’t paid much attention to the girl when they were in the palace together, and she’s regretting that now.

they finally reach the end of the tower. it’s the first time she’s breathed fresh air in years. she tries not to get distracted by it, and instead focuses on the carriage to her left, and the pure black mare laden like a pack mule on her right. “i’m leaving,” gisella says, “i don’t want to be wolfgang’s bride because i want to be klaus’s,” the guard smiles, and he must be klaus, the princess is rejecting a prince to run away with a commoner. “there’s a map and everything you need in the saddlebags. the wedding dress is waiting for you at the castle. no one will know you’re not me until wolfgang unveils you, and by then it will be too late. he will marry you, and i will be gone.”

“why are you doing this?” she asks.

gisella shrugs, “you’re my sister, and father is an idiot. i want you to be happy, and i want wolfgang to be happy, and i want to be happy too. this way we all get what we want. our brother will be waiting for you in wolfgang’s castle. he’ll help you.”

maleen is speechless. gisella grabs her in a quick hug – the only one they’ve ever shared – and then goes to the carriage with klaus trailing behind her. “i’ll see you again, princess maleen!”

she doesn’t have time for tears. she gets on the mare, and rides for the palace of the neighboring land.

~

she makes it just in time. she sneaks into the castle the night before the wedding, ducking around servants until she find her way to jan’s door. she knocks, tentative, wondering if this was a mistake and all one elaborate trap. but the door opens and his face slackens in relief, “finally!” he pulls her inside, and sits her down. there’s lukewarm water waiting for her so she can clean herself, and jan stands with his back to her the whole time, outlining the wedding and how it will go so she knows what to expect the next day. “father isn’t here,” he assures her, “he didn’t want to leave the kingdom, so i’m here in his stead.”

“won’t you miss your sister?” maleen finishes washing and wraps herself in a soft blanket.

“when i am king, gisella will return,” he says confidently, “she will come home and bring klaus, and you will rule here with wolfgang, and all will be well. our countries shall be great allies when it is me and wolfgang on the throne.”

he’s only a year older than gisella, just seventeen, and maleen feels oddly old next to them, feels old next to these children who know what they want and take it and don’t let anything stand in their way.

“we need to get your hair rebraided,” he says, “you should look perfect tomorrow. it’s your wedding day.”

she stares, aghast. “that will take all night!”

“i’ve brought help,” he says, and sends a servant down the hall. the servant returns with a half dozen of the maids who raised her, and who crowd forward and hug her and kiss her cheeks and say how much they’ve missed her. princess or not, bride or not, to them she will always be their little maid maleen.

~

it’s clear gisella picked her wedding dress with maleen in mind. it fits her for one thing, and is clinging and heavy, and it must have looked awful on gisella, but on her it’s perfect. her dress is accompanied by white silk gloves and a thick veil so that no one can see her, so that no one will know she’s not the daughter of the king they’re expecting to be there.

wolfgang is at the end of the aisle, looking like he’s going to an execution, and it takes more self control than maleen was anticipating not to go running to him. she turns to him, and he lifts her veil. he sees her and freezes, mouth sliding open. she winks at him, because they just need to keep it together until they’re married, he just has to keep his cool for a few minutes and they’ll have won it all. wolfgang closes his mouth and says nothing about how this is clearly not the bride he was supposed to marry. they turn so none of the guests can see them, and the priest gives maleen a confused look, but with a glare from wolfgang he continues on with the ceremony as if nothing is out of place.

“you may now kiss the bride,” the priest says, after what seems like an eternity.

wolfgang grabs her about the waist, dips her, and kisses her soundly on the mouth. her veil falls off and she can hear the horrified and shocked gasps of the guests, and under that jan’s laughter. when they break apart, foreheads still pressed together, she whispers, “hello, prince wolfgang.”

he kisses her again, quick and sweet, and does nothing at all to disguise the joy in his face. “hello, princess maleen.”

and they all lived happily ever after.

read more retold fairytales here

[olivia-longueville]

His main triumph was to retain the king’s favor for years

On November 29, 1530, Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, who was in the king’s favor for most of his life, died at Leicester Abbey around the age of 57.

From 1515 to 1529, Wolsey had a profound influence on King Henry.  He was an extremely dedicated and ardent administrator who held various important positions in the government and in the Roman Catholic Church in England, including Lord Chancellor and Papal Legate.

Henry VIII’s ascension to the throne was viewed as the dawn of a new majestic age in England.   Wolsey was always by the king’s side, always ready to dispense knowledge and wisdom to his sovereign, always ready to cater to Henry’s every whim.  He wanted to play a significant role in England’s politics and help usher the country into an era of stability and prosperity.  Wolsey fawned over the new king and flattered him to the utmost, and soon Henry noticed him.

A few months after his coronation, the king appointed Wolsey royal almoner.  Young Henry was an intelligent, well-educated, and clever man, but like most monarchs, he preferred the pleasurable aspect of his rule to the ordinary routine of state affairs which had to be conducted with dignity and skill.  The king was well disposed towards Wolsey and eagerly delegated the major responsibility of running the government to the competent man.  Henry allowed Wolsey to make most of the decisions.

Cardinal Wolsey was known for being an efficient administrator, both for the Crown and the Church.  He was made Archbishop of York in 1514 and then a Cardinal in 1515. Fortune’s wheel was spinning in Wolsey’s favor again: he became a papal legate in 1518, and, in 1524, his appointment as papal legate was renewed for life. It seemed that God smiled down on Wolsey and blessed his career in the Church, making him feel as if he were standing near the golden gates to paradise while still being on earth.  Indeed, he became the most important clergyman in England, and all his positions gave him absolute control of the Church within the kingdom. Soon afterwards, King Henry appointed him Lord Chancellor.

The king trusted Wolsey so much that he would allow him to do things that he wouldn’t ordinarily permit his other subjects.  Wolsey became fully responsible for England’s foreign policy and had near-complete control of England’s state affairs.  Even though England had meager resources and was not in a position to generate sufficient funds for constant military training of royal armies and shipbuilding, Wolsey still succeeded in creating a consistent, pragmatic, and flexible foreign policy.  A clever man by nature, Wolsey comprehended that Henry’s much-desired foreign policy – to obtain the crown of France – was unrealistic because England’s resources were small compared to those of other nations, and he managed to delicately balance on the thin line between his sovereign’s desires and real possibilities.

Wolsey allied England with powerful countries to ensure that the country’s security and interests were protected.  Famous events such as the Field of the Cloth of Gold in 1520 added to the prestige of England abroad.  Treaty of London of 1518 (a non-aggression pact between the major European nations) was his greatest success, binding twenty countries together in peace, including Burgundy, France, England, the Holy Roman Empire, the Netherlands, the Papal States, and Spain.

Despite being Chancellor and controlling the country’s foreign policy, Cardinal Wolsey failed to develop England’s overseas trade and to ensure that royal revenue increased at the same rate as the king’s spending, because his knowledge of finance was poor.  In the early 16th century, the economy was changing (the so-called Price Revolution which refers to the high rate of inflation that occurred during this period across Western Europe), but Wolsey didn’t comprehend the complexities behind this change.

Thomas Wolsey was quite successful in his administration of the Church. The reorganization of the dioceses to correspond with population levels was his main success and a useful reform.  He endeavored to ensure that the Church served Henry’s interests, and these aspirations were explained by his strong sense of loyalty to the king.  He dissolved a number of small monasteries in order to build Cardinal College at Oxford and a school at Ipswich because of his desire to increase the educational level of priests to counter the spreading Lutheran teachings, but contemporaries thought that their creation was meant to leave a permanent mark of Wolsey’s power in England.  Wolsey also attempted to try and control Irish dioceses by appointing English clergyman to position there.

There are also many negative points about Wolsey’s administration of the Church.  There were too many bishoprics and abbotships which he controlled but never visited.  Most of them were controlled by him for financial purposes, and he didn’t know what was happening in them.  Such bishoprics included York, which he was Archbishop of for 15 years and didn’t go there once.

Unfortunately, being selfish and greedy like any sane man in power, Wolsey sought to increase his wealth and, thus, channeled some of his energy into clerical affairs, including appointments and elections of clergy.  For the purpose of personal enrichment, he kept bishoprics vacant and took the income from them, and he even made up his mind to introduce an inheritance tax on wills.  Furthermore, Wolsey took advantage of his secular power in increasing his income by making nobles present him with expensive gifts.

Geoffrey Moorhouse characterizes Thomas Wolsey in the book “The Pilgrimage of Grace”:

“Arrogant by nature, he [Thomas Wolsey] was also greedy for emoluments of one sort and another, a lucrative Church appointment here, the acquisition of property there. He built palaces, including Hampton Court, and in these he entertained extravagantly with an entourage which far outnumbered that of the Archbishop of Canterbury, who would attend royal pageants with seventy servants, whereas Wolsey always turned up with 300 or more. Like many another priest he fathered children and saw to it that his son was promoted to one valuable benefice after another, despite the fact that he was not even old enough to be ordained. On the other hand, mindful of his own background, he had much sympathy for the poor in any struggle they had with the rich (who regarded him as an upstart) and he appointed commissions to look into the vexatious matter of enclosures; though it did little good, because it did not address the real problems of rural poverty, he had illegally created hedges and walls pulled down and open fields restored. His greatest achievement at home was to overhaul the legal system and provide it with a sound bedrock on which later reforms could be built.”

Cardinal Wolsey’s main triumph was to retain the king’s high favor until 1529, for so long, in spite of having a swarm of enemies.  He achieved that by keeping other councilors’ and nobles’ access to Henry limited and by ensuring that he had the sole control of the daily state affairs.

His fate was sealed when he failed to accomplish the annulment of King Henry’s marriage to Catherine of Aragon in order to marry Anne Boleyn.  Catherine’s nephew, the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, controlled the pope at the time, especially after the Sack of Rome in 1527.  It is possible that Anne Boleyn and her faction conspired against Wolsey and persuaded King Henry that the cardinal was deliberately slowing proceedings. The pope decided that the official decision regarding Henry’s first marriage would be made in Rome, not England, but that was not what the king wished.

King Henry supposed that Wolsey, as “Legate a latere” (a papal legate of the highest class) had the significant influence in Rome and could convince the pope to grant him his annulment. Consequently, Henry probably believed the Boleyns, and Wolsey fell out of the king’s favor.  On the king’s orders, Wolsey was stripped of his offices and property, including the magnificent Hampton Court. At first, he was permitted to remain Archbishop of York, so he journeyed to Yorkshire for the first time in his life. When he arrived in North Yorkshire, he learned that he had been accused of high treason and commanded to return to London. A distressed Wolsey set out for the capital, but he fell ill on the journey and passed away soon.

Just before his death, Cardinal Wolsey reputedly spoke these words:

“I see the matter against me how it is framed. But if I had served God as diligently as I have done the King, he would not have given me over in my grey hairs.”