#YES we still have those ridiculous friendship and romance tropes SORRY....

[muzzleroars]

Cake’s Bad End Au Part III: The Holy Grail

Here it is, the posts that will finally outline the events of my Bad End AU! I’m not a writer in any sense, but with so many people enjoying the content I create for this AU and several people asking about it, I wanted to write up a synopsis of the events that take place and, more simply, what this AU even is. This is my idea of what happens when Akira takes Yaldabaoth’s deal on Christmas Eve and all of its implications, so I hope everyone enjoys it and that it puts the pieces for my AU in context. There will be three parts: Akira, The Thieves, and The Holy Grail. This is Part III: The Holy Grail, which details how Akira is saved and how the Thieves ultimately conquer Yaldabaoth. (7,325 words)

(TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of abuse and some descriptions of illness/pain)

When the Thieves meet again, there’s a strained sadness, close to hopelessness as they look at each other in turn and wonder if anyone has any ideas...the longer the silence hangs over them, the closer they come to saying out loud only things Goro has had the courage to say until now but, surprisingly, Ryuji speaks up. He prefaces what he’s about to say with acknowledging how stupid it’s probably going to sound and that he never really understood too much how the Metaverse worked but...with the scar on Akira’s chest, with the way it bled to summon that god, is it possible Akira’s heart was stolen and...if they get it back...maybe…? He trails off with the idea as no one speaks up, thinking it must have been SO stupid the other Thieves don’t even want to recognize it, but Ann says hesitantly that she thought of something similar. Ryuji nods excitedly to her and looks over to Makoto, their stand-in leader, and he’s hopeful by the look of concentration on her face as she considers what Ryuji says. They wait on her silence before she asks Goro about Akira’s heartbeat, how he didn’t feel a pulse, and Goro completes her thought by saying, as a being of the Metaverse, Akira’s heart being stolen has translated into something literal in a sense. His heart is actually gone...but it’s not in the way the Thieves’ had stolen them before, correct? After all, Akira is a pure being that Yaldabaoth is attempting to “perfect”, Makoto positing that perhaps his shadow was destroyed similar to a mental shutdown but Goro suspects it could be that he is severed from his shadow...and if that is the case, his shadow exists in some capacity somewhere as it seems not all of his memories are entirely lost. A rescue mission in a sense seems more feasible after seeing the god that controls him and if they were to find his shadow – or his persona – lost in the sea of souls, there must be a way of reconnecting the two in order for Akira to regain his heart.

All of this is conjecture, they understand that, but Futaba immediately begins to think on how she and her Persona might be able to find Akira’s heart...surely it must remain somewhere in Mementos and if she begins attempting to track for Arsène’s signature, maybe...maybe they could find him. And while he may have forgotten himself being stolen from Akira, perhaps, if Goro really does have similar capabilities, he could negotiate with him in the same way Akira used to in order for Arsène to remember himself. It’s a longshot and they all know it, but what in their work as Thieves hasn’t been? It will require them to face down a hostile Metaverse, perhaps even moreso now, time and time again before they may even get a hint of Arsène, but they all agree to the plan...including Goro, who mostly holds out hope that in finding Arsène, they’ll learn exactly what happened to Akira.

So with a plan in place, they push forward into Mementos once more and day after day they will spend hours roaming its halls, Futaba helping to cloak them along with smokescreens they’ve created using Akira’s old notes, but still they seem endlessly hunted with the Reaper in particular tailing them far more often than it used to. It’s grueling work, however, the team’s morale whittling little by little every day after an excursion that leaves them bone-tired but no closer to finding their answer...and what if they’re wrong? What if the god has totally destroyed Akira’s shadow and has modified him after causing a mental shutdown in him? It must be possible for an entity like that to accomplish as much...but even still, they persist because, after all, this is their best option – they can’t leave Akira as he is, and it’s either fight to the death or bet on Arsène still existing somewhere in the vast reaches of Mementos. It’s exhausting, it’s thankless, and the public continue to shift more and more due to the amounts of hearts Akira reaps, but it also reminds them every day that this cannot stand, that Akira would never have wanted this...even if he was the one that created it.

It makes all their pain well worth it when Futaba’s search finally pings late into the night in another trip to Mementos – a signature like Akira’s, like Arsène’s, wandering deep in the Depths where they know they can’t stay for long without fear of being devoured. It’s a mad dash toward that signal before they lose it, Futaba keeping a good track of it even as it moves erratically through the floor, and finally, finally, all of their patience and hard work can pay off. Arsène obviously isn’t whole, his mask cracked with broken horns and torn wings, making it clear how forcefully he was ripped from Akira in order to sever his will of rebellion and brainwash him for that god. He initially behaves similarly to the other shadows that wander the Metaverse, although his attacks are far more frenzied and disjointed, but, knowing all his weaknesses, the Thieves can easily surround him to attempt a negotiation...and it’s one that proves interesting, even difficult, given Akira’s propensity to wear masks. They must answer in a way Akira would like, the true Akira and not the one molding himself to whatever the other person might want to hear, so it takes the effort of each and every one of them coming together to answer the questions Arsène poses to them. Goro takes the helm on speaking with him, however, distinctly aware of how similar he and Akira could be if the disguise was peeled away from them both, and with that knowledge coupled with consultation between all of the Thieves, they come to reason with Arsène and in doing so, he remembers himself, he remembers Akira.

He takes up residence in Goro’s heart after thanking the Thieves for finding him, admitting that he too initially sought them out but, given his weakened state and his separation from Akira, he forgot himself. They learn from him all that happened to lead Akira here, how the false god had led him through this past year, how they had forged a powerful bond just as Akira had with all of the others here, how that trust was betrayed...how all of them disappeared and Akira was left to decide the fate of the world while held hostage under threat of death, under the coercion of his teammates being revived, under the impression of a cold and callous public that cared not for him nor any of Thieves that had been lost. In that state, he made the wrong choice – he gave in to his own desires and the god ripped Arsène from him, tore out any connection they had to each other in a bid to destroy Akira’s rebellious spirit and make room for him to take up residence where Akira’s heart had once been. Arsène was not gotten rid of himself as Akira was still human at the time and doing so would have killed him, with the false god a bumbling fool himself that has no knowledge of how the human soul works and so could never safely perform the operation himself. So Arsène was cast off into the depths instead, where Yaldabaoth knew he would ultimately forget himself and, in time, possibly expire due to his lack of a human host at that point. In other words, Yaldabaoth is arrogant, narrow-sighted, and stupid, hardly a god but instead just a being given immense power that had twisted Akira’s cognition...for all those months, in fact. Akira, locked in the Depths of Mementos under the guise of the Velvet Room, the two fused in such a way that Akira was, without knowledge, exposed to Yaldabaoth’s distortion each time he stepped foot into that cell – with no image of rebellion to protect him, he was slowly poisoned with Yaldabaoth’s influence, insidiously, to the point that it may have helped tip the scale in Akira’s decision. Now knowing the truth and knowing what their leader had suffered to bring him to this state, all that’s left was to see if the Thieves could return Arsène to him...or if it really would come down to their deaths.

Now would come the full exploration of Akira’s cathedral – the Thieves wait until there is another lull in hearts being stolen, knowing it means Akira must have returned home in order to rest. It could be their final mission, all of them knowing one of three things will happen today: They die, Akira dies, or Akira comes back to them, and while they have no idea which one it will be, they have steeled themselves for any and all possibilities. Back into Mementos, back into the cathedral, now fighting through zealous shadows that attack them for daring to step foot on holy ground again, but when they find Akira isn’t resting on his throne, they know this has become a full on infiltration. They treat it like always, sneaking over the rafters, hiding in shadowy corners, working deeper and deeper into the labyrinthine structure to find where he must rest in order to avoid the shadows that crowd his nave. Out of the public areas, they find the cathedral full of angels that serve Akira and are single-minded in his protection, particularly against the Thieves that have angered their god so. But their resolve is hardened, no longer fearful as they fight through blood and tears to carve a path to Akira’s private quarters where his personal servants launch one last stand against them. They are hellbent on destroying these invaders but it comes nowhere near the absolute rage felt by every single Thief, tearing them apart to finally find Akira once more, already awake and waiting for them. He’s exhausted now, the smile gone from his face that looks sicker than it ever has, wasting and no longer in the mood to humor them. He draws his scythe without words this time and they know it’s now or never, they would have to fight, wear down whatever resolve he still has left, and return Arsène to him just as Yaldabaoth’s control breaks but before he comes to his child’s aid.

The timing needs to be perfect, Goro having to gauge that opening as he stays in close with the others keeping him protected against any of Akira’s blows. The fight is a desperate one, Akira clearly burning himself out by fighting so soon after his punishment for defying Yaldabaoth in saving the Thieves the last they met, but it’s exactly as they had hoped even if it pains them to think what he must have gone through for it. It allows them to reach his breaking point sooner, to rip off that yoke of control where they can hear him, hear their Akira in his voice, and in that second, without a beat between them, Goro breaks through the ranks of the Thieves to summon Arsène. He rushes into Akira, the other boy dropping his weapon as Goro’s hand slams into his chest and all the Thieves huddle in around them, no clue how they could help but lending all their strength and all their pleas to Akira to accept Arsène, to remember himself if only for one second to open his heart again...and Goro feels Arsène leave him, the heaviness of his presence lighting off of his heart. The mark on Akira chest tears again, bleeds once more, but only a moment later it fades...not gone, but now a scar instead of an open wound as Arsène manifests before him once more, asking him to take back his future. The pain it causes Akira is immense, Yaldabaoth roaring in his head and attempting to drown Arsène out, drive him out of his heart once more where only one of them can stay. Akira screams and shudders, collapsing under the weight of a splitting headache...but it feels familiar, like he has been called to this before. He feels like he teeters on the edge of death but Arsène’s voice is familiar...all of their voices are familiar in that instant...he can’t put the memories together, they’re too fractured, but Arsène’s voice drives over Yaldabaoth’s reminding him that he did all of this for them, will he abandon them now and let them die?

Never. Akira will always save them, no matter the cost.

Led only by his emotions, he takes Arsène’s contract to expel Yaldabaoth from his heart in an effort that sees him fold in on himself entirely where Goro catches him, the cathedral beginning to crack and collapse around them like the Palace of a fallen ruler. They move quickly, rushing from the quickly disintegrating building and the palpable anger of a god that’s had his most devout servant stolen from him by Thieves. This is the point at which the Bad End AU splits into its good or bad ending (NO I haven’t decided on what is the “true” ending skdfd) – Akira either dies shortly after these events or he continues to live on in order to assist them in felling Yaldabaoth. If Akira dies, he does so just as they reach the end of Mementos – he tells them he doesn’t have the strength to go on in reality and even now, his body is only sustained by feeding off of Mementos, off of what Yaldabaoth continues to give him. As a last bid to help them, through pained and breathless apologies as a fever grips him and his vision begins to fade out, he uses what’s left of his strength to reopen the Velvet Room and return Morgana to the Thieves, as well as have Lavenza and Igor’s aid as Goro must work in his stead now. He apologizes for this, especially to Goro, thinking...they must have made a promise like this before, right? Goro is stained with his blood by now, coated in the smell of fresh roses as the Velvet Room door opens once more and Morgana rushes out, desperate to help, to guide, to give them hope...but he knows he’s too late seeing Akira’s limp and fading form held fast in Goro’s arms. Lavenza comes behind him, passing by Goro’s shuddering frame as he squeezes Akira, holding him tighter and tighter like that will keep him there with them, and she sits beside him. Akira apologizes to her too, in a voice so quiet only she and Goro can hear, and she forgives him, telling him she always knew he would make the right choice in the end while Morgana comes to join her. He gets in close to Akira, telling him how proud he is and how he doesn’t need to worry anymore – Morgana will lead them all to victory and he can just get some sleep...he’s tired, right? Akira nods, smiling again as Morgana presses in against him and the last things he can feel are Morgana’s comforting warmth and the safety of Goro’s arms before he leaves Yaldabaoth in capable hands.

Should Akira live, however, they reach the edge of Mementos just the same and Akira unlocks the Velvet Room as well, but he instead informs them he can’t possibly exist in reality. He asks them to just leave him to his fate for rebelling against Yaldabaoth, but Morgana and Lavenza arrive to offer him shelter in the Velvet Room which, now free of the god’s control thanks to Akira, he should be safe in as Yaldabaoth will find it impossible to reach. The Thieves know it’s their only choice, very aware that they’ll die if they stick around to think about it too much longer, and so they leave Akira in the hands of the Velvet Room before exiting the Metaverse at Lavenza’s insistence that they go home for a rest – Morgana will contact them the following day to coordinate their efforts. Akira escapes to the Velvet Room, finding himself exhausted and confused to the point that he immediately collapses and spends the next full day asleep. Morgana sticks close to him, only leaving when Akira wakes once more and he needs to go into reality to fetch the other Thieves for a full meeting after all this time.

When they arrive, all of them are ready to rush to Akira, to welcome him back and have a mini celebration for his return...but he’s not healed the way they all expect. He looks no different and he informs all of them he has no memory of them, not even a sliver beyond splintered pieces that flash without his consent that he cannot piece together, and he is not at all human. But Arsène, all of his memories were whole...Akira just shakes his head, suspecting Arsène sacrificed quite a bit in order to fight with Yaldabaoth for his rightful place, so while Akira can feel again, while his rebellious will has returned and he feels an unspeakable amount of betrayal toward his father, the specific memories of his human life are gone. He informs the Thieves that he trusts them implicitly and he will fight for them and their ideals, so they can figure out the rest once Yaldabaoth is...gone, but his voice is full of obvious reluctance and immediately Goro states he’s too much of a liability to go into battle with against his “father”. The Thieves object instantly, saying it’s Akira’s right to stand up against him just like all of them have done in the past and that they believe in his trust of them, that he initially did all of this for them. Akira nods, however, noting that Goro’s point is one based on logic and could be correct – While Akira has regained some of his heart, it is broken in a sense and he doesn’t wish to hold the group back from what they must do. The risk of him bowing to Yaldabaoth’s control isn’t minimal either, so he would ask to act as support and perhaps provide an expert source of navigation for their return to Mementos, given that he understands it as it is really just a part of himself. No one had expected Akira to jump back in as leader, exactly...but to hear him say he would act in a support capacity without fighting to go up against the one who wronged him so terribly is unnerving to the Thieves. It’s just...not how Akira would act. They try prompting him further but his response stays the same – Goro is being logical, he shouldn’t be on the frontlines. Morgana takes over for him at that point, saying it most likely is for the best to let Akira act as he thinks he should with a threat like this looming over all of them. Still, despite the Thieves being put off by an Akira that seems more like a shell than the friend they knew...they have Morgana back and Akira is there to help them at the very least, and they need to take victories where they can. Goro isn’t so easily sated, but he knows he needs to swallow his emotions for the time being too.

Truthfully, Akira knows it may not even be the best logical answer to allow him to go along with them at all as he feels Mementos churning and twisting, having already taken a small private trip before the Thieves had been gathered to see the agitation in the shadows there (just to the first floor, just out of the curiosity that has always plagued him), yet they still don’t move to attack him. He’s slightly puzzled by the development, but he knows it’s something to do with the public’s cognition along with...his father’s, but he has been cut off from Yaldabaoth’s thoughts, and so he doesn’t pursue the question any further for it is not his place to guess at the divine. Akira still believes in the divinity of Yaldabaoth, that he is indeed a god that was born of people’s will, and it’s difficult to accept the fact that he’ll soon be standing by the Thieves’ side in opposition even if he now does believe his father is wrong. Even still thinking of him as a parent, as the one that provided for and protected him...knowing that going to him now with his convictions set to aid the Thieves meaning that either they or his father will have to die. But he can’t let humanity suffer under his cruel and callous rule, he can’t let him drain humans of their independence and their right to grow and change, because Akira knows it’s not out of care for them but instead hatred for their failings. Even in his faltering resolve, he knows what is right and what is wrong...and Yaldabaoth, his father or not, is wrong.

And, though he senses love and devotion from the Thieves, he senses their discomfort with him as well, their fear of him and the way they emotionally recoil when he speaks (he doesn’t have human speech patterns down, so his intonation is still odd and flat). Goro is particularly repulsed by him, lashing out at him and criticizing him while the other Thieves quickly rush to his defense despite the obvious misgivings of their own...but he feels a depth and breadth of emotion in Goro focused solely on him that is nearly alarming to a being like Akira. And for his part, he feels love and devotion to all the Thieves, but it simply lacks context, the memories that would provide him understanding and the human capability to experience emotion to provide him clarity...and similarly, his feelings for Goro are profound and complex, ones he can barely understand and parse let alone come to label in neat categories. All of this mixed emotion dictates to Akira that he must remain strictly as a functional unit of the group, providing them aid and navigation when needed without adding anything unnecessary that may cause strife and therefor miscalculation. The Thieves themselves feel deeply guilty for their own anxiety around Akira, but...he truly isn’t their leader, he isn’t their friend, yet they understand how much of an effort he’s making now to support them. There will be time to heal after all of this and that thought keeps them going as Morgana helps bridge the gap between them, helps ease all the tension they feel in order to work with Akira the way they need to. Only Goro seems resistant to it, but they do know why he, out of all of them, would struggle the most with what’s become of Akira.

They don’t really have the luxury of waiting and getting used to each other, however, Yaldabaoth moving forward with what he had decided on Christmas Eve now that he’s lost Akira. Akira knows his plan, that he will force the real world to fuse with the Metaverse now that the bridge between himself and reality is gone – humanity was judged to be sinful and only granted a reprieve because Akira worked so tirelessly to instill Yaldabaoth’s ideals into the public. So with only some rest, the group can wait no longer as reality bends around them to resemble the Depths of Mementos and, with the Thieves receiving some guidance from the Velvet Room, they move forward to save humanity one last time. Akira does well to mind himself, assisting in tactical orders or, if he finds his mind buckling, keeping himself silent to focus on blocking out Yaldabaoth’s ideals, his insistence, his voice ringing in his ears still. He can manage with the help of Arsène and Futaba by his side but the further they go, the closer they get to his temple, the more silent he becomes and the seed of doubt planted in the Thieves grows little by little...but still, they push forward, they know Akira can overcome this. However, they know all too well that the real test starts when they reach the shrine of the Holy Grail, when they once again face the god that had held him captive and stolen his human life, the very will from his heart. Goro strongly suggests Akira leave them before they do so, but in his first show of true emotion, true conviction, he rejects the idea immediately, saying he will never be free if he doesn’t enter that temple with them...if he doesn’t find closure with his father. He can’t falter now, he can’t afford weakness, or he will surely wither when this world disappears with Yaldabaoth – and he will not betray them. The Thieves all agree after some contemplation and Morgana’s blessing, Goro the last to accept Akira’s presence but there’s something different in his eyes when he watches the other boy now before they enter the shrine.

Their final confrontation arrives, the Grail shining brilliantly in the center of the shrine surrounded by his devout followers and Akira is immediately inundated with thoughts that are not his own, Yaldabaoth’s voice booming against his skull in reprimands, in disgust, in hatred for him. He speaks to the Thieves too but Akira knows his words to them are different and they begin their fight, attacking him from every angle in blows Akira can faintly feel ghosting over his own body. He grits his teeth against the lashes, all of them paling in comparison to the fight to continue controlling his own body under the oppressive weight of Yaldabaoth’s presence encroaching on his heart. There will be a place for you, my child, there is always a place for you by my side to join in my reality...Repent. Repent and return to me if you wish to protect not just these humans but the ones scattered in every corner of the world, the ones who will suffer without you. Repent, or they die along with you. His father is growing angrier, wrathful toward the rebellious Thieves before him and the son that has abandoned him, soon no longer wishing to humor them as he takes his true form, the one they had seen come to Akira’s aid that day in the cathedral. Akira has fallen to the floor, clutching at a chest with a wound that’s reopening, little by little the flesh tears and begins to bleed around his fingers as his resolve wanes in all the pain he feels, in the guilt he feels at his betrayal and the grief he can feel in Yaldabaoth. What a terrible child, what an ungrateful child...what a cruel child to strike at the god that had protected and nurtured him so.

The Thieves stand up against him even now though, the blows they level against him growing more and more painful to Akira, his thoughts breaking apart as he forgets,  Arsène’s voice growing weak and distant and Yaldabaoth’s growing ever more powerful...and he finds the pain fading as he takes up his scythe, as the name “Akira” flickers out of his mind. Akira opens his eyes to look up, to see the Thieves bloodied and battered and still fighting as Yaldabaoth rains an onslaught of devastation onto them only for them to support one another, protect the weakened to heal them while the others attack with a ferocity that one exhausted and drained human being should never be capable of. Futaba is focused on the battle in front of her but immediately turns to see Akira as he rises, weapon in hand once more and looking too oddly calm. She calls out to him in fear, the other Thieves picking up on the shaking in her voice and those on the backlines grip their weapons in sweating hands, healing each other once more as the god mocks their sentimentality, their insistence to save those who never asked for them. Akira’s movements are unsteady, each one is fought against as that shred of his heart restored to him screams in protest and while the Thieves are forced to raise their weapons against him again, they know he’s struggling with every swing of his scythe, he’s fighting himself more than he is them. Memories flash, he remembers the fear, the dread of losing his humanity, losing the will to care for the people in front of him now that call to him, who are fighting for their lives but do no harm to him even as he attacks them just as Yaldabaoth commands. But his body is pulled unwillingly, his heart is with him again even if he’s too stupid to remember the people that love him, even if he’s too selfish to keep them safe like he once promised he would. It’s Yaldabaoth’s bid to control him but he is no longer a part of Akira...he can’t be, his heart belongs to him and him alone, and he can’t afford to cause suffering to those that would risk their very lives to return it to him...even if they go against the people and even if they are sinners. That’s what Yaldabaoth would say, but he lied, time and time again he told malignant untruths to Akira, who now does his best to keep standing even as that excruciating pain returns to him in punishing waves. It’s the least he can do, stand with them as they do all the heavy-lifting for him, lower the scythe he can raise at them but not Yaldabaoth still...he wonders if he was this pathetic in his human life, but then isn’t that just like a human? Having to lean on others?

But he is quickly punished for his endless defiance and his wicked treachery, for the very thought that he should admire human weakness. His vision shutters, the sounds around him ripped away, even the feel of the wind battering against him is stolen with such speed and such force it’s almost painful, every sense suspended. Numb even to pain he wishes would come back. Complete deprivation. Akira has felt it, it’s not the first time Yaldabaoth has taken every sense without warning as a way of breaking his hysterias...so they are not totally severed, are they? He closes him off to everything, allowing only the experiences he deems appropriate, usually just his voice, his words after Akira has experienced a loneliness so penetrating he’s on the edge of losing even the false identity of The Son. But here, the silence, the lack of existence, only lasts long enough to remind Akira of all he has suffered, of all he has had, before Yaldabaoth’s voice speaks to him, no longer roaring, no longer shaking him with the very sound of it, but instead how he would speak to him in the days they spent in the Depths alone, only together surrounded by shadows. It’s stern, but it doesn’t have that hostility, it is only for him even if he knows his father must still be striking at the Thieves, working every second to kill them while he comes quietly to his child. He will have no place with them, he is no longer human and he will only repulse those he fights for now, the ones he now swears allegiance to will abandon the unnatural child...it is in human nature to do so. He asks that he repent, that he assist Yaldabaoth is killing Thieves that will only betray him, and the child can return to his only home in the Depths of Mementos, the human who’s heart has stopped and who’s blood is now made of the Holy Grail’s ichor. They are of each other and the two cannot be split, not after Akira’s resurrection through his elixir, and no measure of rebellious will, no measure of human stubbornness, the refusal to admit loss and all the deficiencies and fallacies of mankind, can bring Akira the humanity that has died. So he faces the choice of rejoining his father now, swearing his loyalty and returning his control to the god he is bound to, or Yaldabaoth will offer him the mercy to kill him with the others, to put him out of his misery if he chooses to drive himself mad by aligning himself with humans when he can only be rejected by them. But Akira can feel Yaldabaoth’s grip loosening, not because he wills it but because Akira’s own heart is interfering, gnawing at his power over him and allowing his senses to filter in little by little. Yaldabaoth’s offer, rejoin or perish here, show that his yoke has been thrown off of Akira’s shoulders – he cannot simply kill the Thieves and take Akira for himself again, he must return willingly...and so he appealed to his emotions, threatening him with loneliness, the exact punishment he had used on him to great effectiveness time and again.

But it’s enough. Maybe Akira will always be alone like this, maybe the humans he fights for now will leave him, but he tells his father it’s okay as his sight flickers in and out, muffled, distant sounds reverberating in his ears...because as much as he is no longer human, he is not like Yaldabaoth either, is he? Yaldabaoth is disgusted by him in a way too, he hates the human parts of him that react with emotion, that are irrational and distracted by hobbies, undeserving of the halo around his head in Yaldabaoth’s eyes. Yet his father asks that he stay with him, continues to reach out to him even as he actively opposes him and it is not a functional request - Akira knows Yaldabaoth does not believe he needs him by his side to destroy the Thieves, nor does he fear his child could be his downfall if he does not rejoin him...instead, Yaldabaoth feels richer with him, a fulfillment when they speak together, and he had learned to attach himself to something so imperfect, something that angered him, repelled him, something he should hate and yet felt what, in his own heart, could be thought of as the opposite. So why not the humans too? They will reach out to him, they will feel richer for knowing him, but they will not punish him so for the things they hate about him...and Yaldabaoth has grown malignant in his hatred for humanity, those he is meant to save from suffering. Even as The Son, a being meant to believe only in the word of his father, Akira knew of this hostility, always aware in some part of himself that it was wrong no matter how many times he may have forgotten that. So...weren’t all their arguments just leading up to this? His senses continue to return, flooding into him as he admits to his father this fight is what he wants, he wants to stand in opposition to Yaldabaoth, to the father that retracts his hand now in anger, in insult, in pain of rejection. He can hear Futaba shouting frantically for him when focus returns to his features, his slack frame immediately tightening up at the pain that rushes through him again but he remains upright, spine stricken straight as pearl-like eyes stay fixed to the blinding angles of Yaldabaoth who redoubles his efforts to destroy the Thieves that have stolen the one thing he may have ever cared for.

But there’s a moment as he stands by and watches, eyes moving to follow the movements of the Thieves, that it seems they...his friends...have a chance, it seems they really may be able to stand against his father and triumph...but it’s short-lived. He strikes them all down, each one of their bodies striking the earth beneath them and they can’t move, they can’t stand even though he can feel their struggles, their desperation to just get up one last time, their despair when their bodies refuse to obey. Now only Akira stands behind them, a coward who can feel Yaldabaoth’s gaze on him, burning into whatever soul he may have left, who mocks him for rejoining these pitiful thieves, who mourns the fact that he must kill him now with the others for his foolishness...to lose his child so pointlessly, even a god must grieve for him. Akira chokes on his words, wanting to encourage them to stand again but he can’t, how can he ask so much of them when he’s contributed nothing? And yet...it rises up in him, but he realizes it’s the cognition of the people, of the public as Morgana joins him to stand again and refuses to fall before Yaldabaoth, no matter how many times he may strike him down. Human hope. Human hope, which Akira so deeply admired, now stands up to his father small...but growing. It flickers but Akira can feel it too, he can feel what Yaldabaoth stole from the people, from his friends, from himself, and he begins to straighten his stance again even against the pain blooming from his chest. It’s hope, but hope fueled by anger, by a righteous fury unlike anything he felt working for his father, and Arsène’s voice overtakes Yaldabaoth’s as he can’t bear to hear anymore of his sanctimonious lecturing when he stole Akira’s very heart. Human hope and human anger, human rage at cruelty and unfairness, it overtakes him, a sin! A sin, Yaldabaoth screams at him, a sin to feel such wrath, feel it no more! If the Thieves cause the child to commit such grave atrocities, they will die to cleanse him and force his repentance at the time of his own death.

No more. No more victims, not him, nor the Thieves that saved him, nor the humans he abandoned.

His body burns and it’s licked with blue flames, Arsène appearing at his side as shocks of black return to his brilliant white hair, light, barely there irises showing in eyes no longer blind. The public rises up behind the Thieves, Morgana standing first and the pain is fading from Akira’s body, the others rising in obvious agony as his scar stitches itself up once more and he can no longer hear Yaldabaoth in his head, his voice only on the outside now, only what the other Thieves can hear. He walks forward to join them, raising his scythe as he finally speaks, tells Yaldabaoth this must end, he is no longer in the favor of the people, and if he doesn’t heed what humanity wishes, Akira must be the one to strike him down. An ungrateful child...perhaps so, but he will never be controlled by another, he will never allow himself to abandon his ideals that he fought for and he will not allow himself to ever again forget the humanity he so foolishly lost, so let him be the ungrateful child. And it’s laughable to the Thieves, to Yusuke, to Haru, to Goro who had to do just the same as Akira does now...Goro who stands just by Akira’s side now with barely any space between them, and Akira can feel the spike in anger in his father at the display. They’re not meant for this, are they? Yaldabaoth attempts to strike down the Thieves beside him again but they refuse to fall now, still demanding Akira repent now for joining the sinful masses and Akira rejects his offer, no more salvation. If he wishes to keep humanity in the dark, if he wishes to continue to control them under a vindictive rule, then the son must punish the cruel father.

Akira awakens to his true self then, the one that still sleeps within Arsène – Satanael, the one Akira knows innately as the child of Yaldabaoth in Gnostic lore, the child that works tirelessly for his father until he learns how wrong he is, how false he is, how unfair and resentful he is toward humanity, and he rises up against him to release them before he is cast into hell for his betrayal. The chains of the shackles around his wrists are broken when Satanael is born, taking his stand before Yaldabaoth in defiance for a life lost, for putting his Thieves through so much grief, for nearly sacrificing all of humanity. He cannot take back the mistakes he made, but he can take his stand to save them all now and there’s a quiet moment in that stillness, Satanael leveling his gun at Yaldabaoth’s head, a moment of grief passing between father and son, before Akira allows his persona to pull its trigger and shatter Yaldabaoth, destroy the face that Akira once held a hand in reverence to. And the god folds in on himself, a piece torn from Akira as his life fades out over them and he says his goodbyes to his child, to the one who still somehow came to fulfill his role as the trickster against him. He loses his form, returning to his inert state as the Holy Grail that naturally finds its way back to Akira, floating quietly before him in silent moment of reflection until he reaches out his hand and it dissolves. Ripped open, taken from, and now healed just a bit again...what remains of Yaldabaoth is now a part of him, his humanity forever gone. But in this state, with the will of the Thieves that gather around him now, he can rewrite the world as it should be based on their wishes...and so it is done. The Metaverse fades, reality returns to its untouched state, and Morgana, along with Akira himself, are preserved by their wishes and their wishes alone.

Shibuya has returned to normal, the public milling around them seemingly unaware of what they all just accomplished, but Akira can feel now that they are free, at the very least. He thanks all of the Thieves and they return the sentiment instantly, the wall between them and him seemingly vanished, crumbled at least, as they all express happiness at the peeks of black hair and his clothes now changed in reality, meaning he has some solid form again. He’ll keep getting better and so will they, so they insist they’ll see him tomorrow and absolutely, no questions about it, spend some time at Leblanc to catch up (he’ll love the coffee, they know it). He smiles again, this one more full and more earnest despite his grief, accepting their offer but wishing to return to the Velvet Room for now, too exhausted to carry on and the Thieves all agree...but as the group splits off and he watches his new but familiar friends leave in contentment, in relief, in a renewed sense of trust in him, he sees that Goro doesn’t follow suit with them. He’s quiet, but only because Akira senses a weight on him, one he can’t sort through himself and while Akira can’t fathom the correct human response, he instead just asks if he’ll be there tomorrow too...at Leblanc, a name he thinks he knows, that feels safe...he adds that he hopes he will be when Goro maintains his silence at the question. There’s a moment of hesitation but there’s a shift too, a small bit of surprise, before Goro looks toward him to nod with a faint but sharp smile, adding that he hopes Akira won’t forget before he takes his leave as well. And while Akira still feels so many volatile emotions in him, something did change between them before Yaldabaoth...and he needs to understand who he was, who they were, and without knowing why or how right now, he knows Goro will be integral in regaining what he gave away. He leaves the bustling square only when Goro’s been swallowed by the crowd, exhausted but with Morgana padding along at his heels in high spirits (but sooo ready for a cat nap, he says). And while it will be slow, while Akira distinctly feels he will never be human again, he knows now each step back will be one into his old life, into his friends’ lives, into what he and Goro share, and he can take his time.

[ladyartemesia]

All I Want For Christmas is You

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader

Summary: When Park Jimin is unable to escort his precious sister through the gauntlet of corporate holiday galas, he blackmails his best friend Taehyung into being her chaperone. After all, who better to safeguard his headstrong sibling than a man who would never want her for himself? (She and Tae have spent the better part of a decade mutually disliking each other, and that’s putting it mildly.) Yet, even the best laid plans may go awry at Christmas and Kim Taehyung is about to discover that the girl he never wanted has become a temptation he cannot resist...

Genre: Comedy • Fluff  • Smut

Tropes: Brother’s Best Friend (Reader is Jimin’s Sister) • Enemies-to-Lovers

Collab: This work is part of the Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tropes Collab featuring original holiday themed works by @ppersonna • @xjoonchildx  • @underthejoon • @yeojaa​ • @untaemedqueen • and @snackhobi

Word Count: 17K (I know—I am shocked too honestly)

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: suggestive photographs • mention of accidentally being hit with a baseball • hints of jealousy and possessiveness • light tit slapping • explicit sexual content • m/f oral sex • consensual unprotected sex (shield it before you yield it y’all) • Viola’s mirror kink makes yet another appearance •

Acknowledgements:

To @ppersonna​ (Lindy) @underthejoon​ (Fal) and @xjoonchildx​ (Ana) you guys are my heart. Your support, willingness to read (and re-read) and give honest feedback made this fic special. Your friendship is my daily dose of awesome. Truly, I love you.

To @untaemedqueen​ (D) all of the above applies to you, but I owe you a little something extra for the LITERAL HOURS you spent in the doc with me. This fic would not be here without you. You kept me moving. You inspired me. You were amazing. Thank you so very much. This story is lovingly dedicated to you. 

To @hobi-gif​ for being the most thorough and incredible beta reader and for having all the important girl chats with me. I think you learned more about my past than you wanted... Either way you made this story better and I am profoundly grateful for the hours of time you spent. I have removed all the Hope-No-No words in your honor. 

To @lemonjoonah​ as always, you knew EXACTLY what I needed to tweak to make this story work. (Gotta pass that Lemon Litmus Test or no dice lol.) My lovely soul twin. You’re a bloomin’ rockstar. 

Please Picture This Taehyung:

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Yes. Because you absolutely owe me.”

“Then send me a bill, not your unmanageable harpy of a sister.”

Jimin raised a single unimpressed brow. 

“Kim Taehyung. It was exactly five years ago today that I carried your drunken naked ass two miles in the rain after you set your clothes on fire and sprained your ankle at that Beta Phi party.” He paused dramatically. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? After I deleted several pictures off phones and paid off half the party to keep it out of the papers?”

The man in question shifted uncomfortably.

“That incident is a bit hazy in my memory. I’m not sure I recall—”

“Jiminie—you’re the best and I—I owe… you. I owe you the most, Jiminie. I do—I owe you a favor—one BIG favor—anything you ask… Even though... I actually like being naked. I don’t think we need clothes. We should all be naked. Everyone. Then there would be world peace.”

Taehyung’s jaw dropped. 

“You RECORDED IT?!”

Jimin grinned, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

“Naturally. And I had it all ready to go—just in case you needed extra convincing.” He crossed his arms and fixed his best friend of nearly fifteen years with a triumphant smirk. “I’m calling in that favor today, Taehyung. Now are you a man of your word or not?”

“He did WHAT?!”

Your mother winced. 

“Jimin was... uncomfortable leaving you alone for the holiday season. He normally accompanies you to the galas but this year—”

“This year I was going to go alone and finally build my reputation as an asset to this family!”

Park Soomin sighed as she watched her daughter pace fiercely around the living room of their luxury suite. 

“No one doubts that you’re an asset, but… in light of recent events...”

Rage and embarrassment flared up in your chest before you could stop them. 

“This is about Milo… isn’t it?”

The silence that greeted your statement was confirmation enough. 

“Are you ever going to trust me again?” you whispered. 

“Oh sweetheart... it isn’t you we don’t trust...”

Tears burned at the corner of your eyes, but you ruthlessly blinked them back. 

You would play along with their humiliating schemes. 

For now.

“So which one of Jimin’s Ivy League brat pack did he blackmail into babysitting me? 

For the first time in the entirety of the conversation, your mother looked truly nervous. 

“Kim Taehyung.”

You tripped over your own feet and face-planted into the sofa. 

“Jungkook, I need to look into faking my own death. Nothing too over the top. Just a tasteful disappearance—”

The man in question could barely restrain his grin. 

“You don’t pay me nearly enough to deal with your mother in the event of your tragic demise and miraculous resurrection.”

“I could pay you more.”

“Or,” Jungkook replied with a heavy dose of judgment coloring his tone, “you could put on this ridiculous tie and stop trying to weasel out of it.”

“Sometimes I wonder why I pay you at all,” Taehyung growled, yanking the tie from the younger man’s grasp. “Clearly I’m not the one in charge.”

“Your words, sir, not mine. Now shall we go over the details and itinerary?”

If Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the best executive aide in the city (and one of his closest friends) Tae would have drop-kicked him right then and there.

“Could you at least try to look like you’re not enjoying this?”

“I’m sorry, sir. It was insensitive of me to ignore your suffering in this delicate time. The trauma of escorting a beautiful woman to a series of glorified buffets weighs heavily upon you.”

Taehyung tightened the tie so aggressively, he almost strangled himself.

“Beautiful woman?!” he wheezed. “We’re talking about the girl who showed up to our formal graduation party looking like she just escaped from Azkaban.”

Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. 

“Tae… how long has it been since you’ve actually seen Ms. Park?” 

“Seen? Maybe three—four years.”

The heir-apparent of Kim Holdings avoided the public end of corporate culture like the plague, preferring to leave the requisite schmoozing to his personable cousin, Kim Seokjin. 

However, he had crossed paths with his adolescent nemesis in... other ways. 

Taehyung was romancing a lovely young socialite who suddenly ghosted him after someone told her that he wanted at least eight naturally-birthed children. 

Soon after, your favorite charity received an anonymous 30,000 dollar donation requesting that you be featured in the dunk tank for an upcoming benefit carnival and then the same anonymous patron paid for at least fifteen little league teams to attend. 

In retaliation, someone petitioned the National Aviary Society (chaired by a very influential senator’s wife that no one ever refused if they wanted their permits to go through) to make Taehyung the MC at their annual awards ceremony—knowing full well he was allergic to birds (not dangerously allergic—just enough to be miserable).  

Taehyung had sniffled and sneezed through approximately one hundred parrots, parakeets, and other assorted fowl until he was ready to commit murder. 

The last several years had been littered with similar incidents of the two of you taking thinly veiled potshots at one another. 

“I can’t imagine she’s changed very much,” Taehyung bit off absently. His mind was abruptly consumed by how he could get revenge for those demonic birds. 

He didn’t notice the smile creeping over Jungkook’s face. 

“No, sir. I’m sure she hasn’t changed at all.”

Taehyung had only ever had the wind knocked out of him once before. 

He was Dionysia High School’s star pitcher for three seasons and during one particularly tense game against JY Prep, Lim Jaebeom whacked a line drive right into his solar plexus. 

That’s how it felt to look up and see you at the top of the stairs. 

In his head, you were still the mischievous imp from his childhood. Every prank he played was directed at the fierce little fiend with braids and braces who’d knocked him and his date into the university fountain while experimenting with her friend’s skateboard. 

But she was gone… and in her place was something far more dangerous. 

A woman. 

Silken fabric wrapped tightly over curves you definitely didn’t have four years ago. That wild hair had been tamed into shining waves and pinned elegantly at the nape of your neck. The wicked slit that traveled all the way up your thigh teased a smooth shapely leg that all but demanded the viewer fantasize about running their hand up the length of it. 

Suddenly it was very clear why Park Jimin wouldn’t let his sister venture into the corporate cesspool alone. 

Because the sight of you could make a man desperate. 

Betrayal—of all things—slowly crept over Taehyung as you descended toward him like some sort of angel floating down from the heavens. 

His mind went blank. Just watching the seductive shift of your hips as you swayed ever closer felt like a violation of his friendship with Jimin. He could feel the judgmental stares of an imaginary Bro-Code Council boring into him from on high. 

“I see you’ve recovered from your memorable tenure as the Aviary Society’s Master of Ceremonies.”

And just like that the brat was back. 

Taehyung breathed a hefty sigh of relief, secretly thrilled to be in familiar territory with you. 

“Naturally I was delighted to help Senator Mitchell’s wife. In fact, Mitchell’s office just fast tracked all my pending permit requests for the new year.” He tilted forward, coming into your space a bit. “I should really send you a thank you card.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you scowled, breezing past him like an indignant queen. 

Tae could practically see the steam pouring out of your ears. 

“Of course not,” he chuckled.

The first gala of the holiday season was an extravagant annual affair hosted by Min Corp., a Seoul based investment firm that commanded billions in assets. This year, the theme of the event was the Joseon Dynasty and the entire ballroom had been gloriously transformed into a stunning celebration of the Min family’s royal heritage. 

Attendees were gifted their own traditional fan, each uniquely crafted by artisans from Damyang. Taehyung’s was all black with bold silver calligraphy while yours was a beautiful bamboo and silk piece decorated with pomegranate trees. 

You had already whacked three people with it by the time dinner was served. 

“It really is a pity these fell out of fashion,” you lamented. “They’re quite useful.”

“You are deranged,” Taehyung mumbled, massaging his temples in exasperation. 

“Nonsense. I only fanned those who deserved it.”

“Harkins?”

“He was staring at my rack for a solid minute.”

Taehyung could hardly blame the man, it was a battle he himself was losing after all, but Harkins was twice your age and married—therefore his ogling was in especially poor taste. 

“Okay... What about Kang?” 

“He was verbally abusing one of the waitstaff.” 

“Alright, fair enough, but why on earth would you go after sweet old Mrs. O’Malley?”

“She was about to grab your ass.”

Taehyung’s mouth dropped open.

“She’s eighty-five!”

“And still kickin’ apparently.” You shook your head in disgust. “As if I’d whack an eighty-five year-old woman for anything less than non-consensual touching.”

“I- I- mean—surely you must be mistaken,” he coughed. 

“Oh, there’s no mistake. That nasty old crone is a serial offender. She likes to play it off as dementia, but she’s as sharp as a tack. Last year she got a whole handful of Jimin. Honestly, I’d call the police on her, but the commissioner is her grandson so I doubt I’d get very far.”

Taehyung turned to the woman in question just in time to see her totter lecherously toward Jung Hoseok, fingers already twitching in anticipation. 

“Is nothing sacred?” he mused hollowly. 

You shrugged. 

“Many people who accumulate as much as our families have start believing that they are entitled to whatever strikes their fancy.” Your eyes met his with a hint of bemusement. “Surely you should be used to this sort of thing by now?”

“Yes, but I was hardly expecting it from little old ladies!”

The remainder of dinner was a terse affair where you pretended he didn’t exist for the entire meal and he in turn pretended that the spunky young heiress seated to his right was the most darling creature to ever walk the earth. By dessert she was ready to get married and you were ready to vomit. 

Afterward, Taehyung found himself quickly converted to your views on fan usefulness as you began strolling through the crowd intent on strengthening your family’s corporate ties. 

“Kim Taehyung,” you ground out through clenched teeth, “how am I supposed to do business if you keep stabbing everyone I speak to!”

“I don’t know what you’re implying. I’m simply not used to carrying one of these. I may have accidentally grazed a few overzealous individuals—”

“My last three conversations have been rudely disrupted by the blunt end of that accused fan.”

Taehyung crossed his arms smugly. 

“And what of it? Jimin sent me along to keep an eye on you and the gentlemen in question were hardly behaving themselves. No one has to put their hand in my back or lean that close to me when they’re talking business.” 

“That’s because no one wants to get that close to you,” you replied sweetly. “You’re gross.” 

A devastating grin slid slowly over his features as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. 

“I can think of several women who might disagree.”

He just barely caught the hitch in your breath before- 

“Like who? Miss Blushes-and-Giggles from dinner?”

“Jealous?” Taehyung drawled cockily. 

“Only in your dreams, Kim.” Then, with a deliberate flick of your fan, you turned your back to him. “I’m headed for the ladies room. Do yourself a favor and don’t follow me in.”

It was twenty minutes before Taehyung realized that you slipped out the back entrance of the restroom. 

It took another ten for him to locate you on the balcony flirting outrageously with Min Yoongi. 

The young heir of Min Corp. was just leaning closer to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when a black fan slid right in between the two of you. 

“Lovely weather we’re having,” Taehyung observed cheerfully. His eyes bounced between you and Yoongi with barely concealed fury and you let out a miserable groan. 

“Mr. Kim,” Yoongi cleared his throat significantly. “What an… unexpected surprise.”

Frustration clawed at your chest as your overbearing guardian nodded smugly in response. 

It was time to teach him—and Jimin—a lesson. 

“Yoongi,” you sighed, sliding your hand pointedly through the crook of his arm, “I’m not feeling at all well. Would you perhaps… escort me home?”

Taehyung suddenly looked as if he’d swallowed a live octopus. 

Yoongi grinned, clearly thrilled with the prospect of simultaneously spending more time with you and irritating Taehyung. 

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Jimin is gonna kill me,” Taehyung grumbled as he watched Min Yoongi help you into the passenger seat of his Aston Martin. 

An ugly green feeling he refused to identify twisted sharply in his gut when you smiled coyly at the other man. 

“This is ridiculous,” he snarled to no one in particular before yanking his phone out of his pocket. 

Jungkook picked up on the second ring. 

“Sir?”

“I need you to drive to Ms. Park’s apartment and tell me if she goes in alone or if Min Yoongi goes in with her.”

“You want me to what?!” 

“Just do it!” he snapped, downing an entire glass of champagne before signaling his own driver. 

Fifteen minutes later his phone vibrated from the car seat next to him. 

1 New Message from: Jungkook

Her building has four separate entrances. Which one do I watch? 

Taehyung could practically feel the vein pulsing in his forehead as he scrolled through his contacts. 

You picked up on the fourth ring. 

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“Oh it’s you… Wait—how did you get this number?”

“Jimin. Obviously. Now please answer the question.”

“Oh a ‘please.’ Who knew you had manners?”

“Answer the question, Park. I’m tired.”

The distinct sound of a zipper unzipping carried through the speaker. 

“I’m at home, of course. Where else would I be? I just got here like a minute ago.”

He had a sudden vision of Min Yoongi helping you out of your dress. His grip on the phone tightened. 

“Are you alone?”

You snorted. 

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

Taehyung saw red. 

“I’m coming over.”

There was a loud crash and several colorful words in at least three different languages. 

“Wha- No! I’m trying to go to bed!”

“With who?!”

“With myself, you idiot!”

“Prove it!”

“Fine! I will!”

The line disconnected and Taehyung swore loudly. He was just about to direct the driver to your building when his phone went off again. 

1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 

He almost choked on his tongue. 

You were clearly in the middle of undressing and—in your irritation—probably hadn’t looked too carefully at the picture you sent.  

At first glance it was simply a shot of your empty room (presumably “proof” that you were alone) but you neglected to consider the floor-length mirror hanging in the far corner…

A mirror that showed you angrily holding up your phone with your gown pooled deliciously around your waist and the soft round swells of your breasts strapped into lacy red lingerie. 

You were exquisite. 

A fierce, hot sensation gripped him ruthlessly, and this time there was no mistaking it. 

Desire. 

Your phone lit up on the bed where you tossed it after snapping a photo for your tightly-wound man nanny. 

1 New Message from: Kim Grinch 

I didn’t know you liked Van Gogh. 

Your head tilted in confusion. 

There was a Van Gogh print in your room, but he couldn’t have seen it because it was behind you when-

Oh NO.

You gasped, scrolling back up to confirm what deep down you already knew to be true. 

… You just sent Kim Taehyung a topless mirror selfie. 

Several miles away, smiling smugly in the backseat of his town car, Taehyung was sure he could almost hear you screaming. 

“Good morning, sir. Which would you like first; the bad news or the worse news?”

Taehyung groaned from underneath his covers. 

“Don’t you ever knock? I could have a woman up here.”

“You’ve never brought a woman up here.”

“Is that the bad news?” Taehyung yawned. 

“No,” Jungkook tossed a small stack of newspapers and printed digital articles into his lap, “this is the bad news.”

Pictures of you, Min Yoongi, and even himself were splashed over the front pages of all of them. 

PARK ANGEL TRADES ONE CORPORATE HEIR FOR ANOTHER AT MIN GALA

WHO WILL WIN THE PARK ANGEL’S HEART? KIM TAEHYUNG OR MIN YOONGI? LET US KNOW IN THE COMMENTS

NEW ROMANCE ALERT? PARK ANGEL LEAVES JOSEON BALL WITH MIN SCION 

“The Park Angel?” 

“That’s what the media calls her... The public is rather fascinated with her actually.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Taehyung mumbled. 

“Of course not, sir. It’s a great mystery.”

As usual, Taehyung chose to ignore his aide’s lethal snark and pressed on to the matter at hand. 

“This is a flaming disaster.”

“Oh I don’t know. I really appreciated the picture of you staring on forlornly while she and Yoongi climbed into the Aston Martin. Takes a real gift to capture all that drama in a single frame.”

“Which one was that?!” 

“It’s right under the MAN DOWN: PARK ANGEL LEAVES KIM TAEHYUNG HEARTBROKEN headline.”

Tae ran his hand down over his face in exasperation. 

“I’m surprised my mother hasn’t called.”

“She has. Twice.”

“I don’t suppose that’s the ‘worse news’ is it?”

“No.”

“Of course it isn’t. I’m never that lucky.” He collapsed backwards into his pillows with a beleaguered huff. “Go ahead then. Tell me.”

“Park Jimin is on the line for you right now.”

After a small eternity on the phone with Jimin (assuring him that NO Min Yoongi had not despoiled his precious sister and YES he would definitely do better next time), Taehyung was forced to attend an impromptu brunch with his mother. It took considerable effort, but he was eventually able to convince her that you were neither breaking his heart nor expecting his child. 

By the time he arrived to collect you for this evening’s event, Taehyung was already sick of hearing your name (he’d spoken it no less than three hundred times since Jungkook woke him this morning).

You were in much the same boat as Taehyung, having spent most of the afternoon pacifying Jimin and clearing up your own mother’s romantic delusions regarding the Min and Kim heirs respectively. 

Tonight’s gala was a Victorian Christmas Ball thrown by the National Literary Fund and the entire venue had been transformed into a Charles Dickens fever dream. 

Unlike the Min Gala (whose theme was guarded like a state secret every year) the Literary Fund’s tribute to A Christmas Carol was tradition and you were dressed accordingly in a custom corset gown with gorgeous detailing. 

Every second of effort it took to lace yourself into the monstrosity was worth the look on Taehyung’s face the moment you slipped off your cape. 

“Something wrong, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung was desperately trying to look literally anywhere but your chest, where said corset was serving up your breasts like a debauched buffet. 

Jimin. Think of Jimin. Think of what Jimin will do to you. Think of how much trouble she’s caused-

He peeked again.

I would pay a million dollars to suck those tits. 

“Nothing at all,” his voice cracked. 

The itinerary for the evening included performances by a local children’s choir, a traditional waltz, and—of course—dinner.

You both managed to get along without snapping at each other during the choral performance, but as two of the largest donors to the Children’s Literacy Initiative, neither of you could escape being drawn into the waltz. 

The energetic socialite who Taehyung flirted with over dinner the previous night eventually lured him onto the floor while you graciously accepted an invitation from a lovely older gentleman who chaired the Fund’s event committee. 

For the first few movements, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. Mr. Lee was charming, respectful, and still an excellent dancer despite his advanced age. It wasn’t until a familiar sound caught your attention that the lightness in your chest suddenly felt heavy...

Taehyung was laughing. 

You heard him do so many times over the years, and in each instance, the carefree magic of it never failed to make your heart flutter. 

But now he was smiling down at the pretty little heiress and laughing for her… and the flutter in your chest was accompanied by something else. 

Something that felt an awful lot like longing. 

“Does he know you look at him like that?” Mr. Lee asked quietly. 

Your eyes flew guiltily to his, but it was too late. The old man had caught a glimpse of the secret you buried deeply for more than a decade; so deeply, in fact, there were times you almost forgot it yourself...

Almost. 

“No,” you whispered, “he has no idea.” 

Disaster struck at dinner. 

Taehyung quite liked dancing with the lovely Miss Something-or-Other. She was sweet and funny and (unlike with you) he wasn’t constantly torn between agitation and raging inappropriate lust in her presence. 

The cold shoulder you offered him when he took his seat seemed even more frigid than usual and he spent half the meal wondering what he’d done to earn your amplified disdain when suddenly—

Your hand smacked down on his wrist, seizing it in a vise-like grip. 

Taehyung nearly choked on his steak and was about to give you a searing set-down over your spontaneous grabby-ness when he noticed your expression. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, leaning forward in concern. 

“I-I need—” 

It looked as if you were in some sort of physical pain and Taehyung was rapidly becoming worried. 

“I need your help,” you finally managed to whimper and the next thing he knew, you were dragging him away from the table and into one of the secluded alcoves near the main entrance hall. 

“Is there anyone around? Can anyone see us?” The look on your face bordered on unhinged. 

“No. There’s no one. Park, are you okay? What’s going on I—”

“I need you to unlace my dress,” you hissed frantically. 

At that moment, a bomb could have gone off and Taehyung wouldn’t have blinked. 

You, however, were completely preoccupied with your own distress and therefore oblivious to his. 

“My earring broke during dinner and fell down there and now it’s stabbing me—”

Your eyes were beginning to tear. Taehyung remained frozen, still trying to figure out whether or not this was a lucid dream. 

“—it’s definitely pierced the skin and there’s a possibility I’m gonna start bleeding through the fabric—”

The mention of blood snapped him out of his daze somewhat. 

“A-Alright. Just turn around—brace yourself on that wall.”

You quickly did as you were told and Taehyung began to tug fruitlessly at the ties cross-crossing your back.

“Why won’t this—”

His fingers fumbled over the knots, desperately trying to loosen them, but they simply wouldn’t budge. 

“I can’t—I can’t get it. Whoever helped you into this thing made sure you weren’t getting out of it.” 

You whined in frustration and the earring shifted a bit in response. 

There was only one other way to fix this (and you would almost rather be in pain). 

“Taehyung I—” you turned to face him again, forcing your eyes shut before reluctantly doing what had to be done “... I need you to reach down the front of my dress and get it.”

He blinked. Twice. 

“I’m sorry—What did you just—”

“Please, Tae,” you whispered desperately, letting your lip tremble in a way he had never been able to resist, “it hurts…”

He gulped. 

His eyes dropped to the matter at hand.

This is fine. Everything’s fine. She’s in pain, right? You’re basically a doctor right now. You’re just going slide your hand in between the most mouthwatering pair of breasts you’ve ever seen and then—

Taehyung’s manic inner monologue was interrupted by the sound of his own moan. He immediately faked a coughing fit to cover it and prayed you hadn’t noticed. 

(You hadn’t. You were actively being stabbed.) 

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” he muttered, curling his fingers over the scalloped edge of the bodice. 

You bit your lip, desperately trying to hold back any reaction, but when his knuckle brushed the pebbled tip of your nipple, you gasped. 

Oh.

His hand stuttered, lingering a moment too long over the tight little peak as his gaze suddenly shot up to meet yours. Both of you had been studiously avoiding eye contact, yet now it was as if neither of you could look away. 

Taehyung wet his lips reflexively. 

“It’s too tight,” he whispered, “I need more leverage.” 

Then his arm wrapped over the curve of your lower back and he drew you tightly against him, anchoring your hips just enough to fully slip his hand between your body and the corset. 

You were so warm.

So soft...

“I can feel it,” he grunted, “but I can’t get a good grip on it.” 

His mouth pressed into a tight line as he leaned forward, bringing your back up against the wall. You let out a little squeak and his eyes darted briefly down to your mouth before he spoke again. 

“Hold on to me.”  

You nodded and wordlessly slid your arms around his waist.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could almost pretend that this wasn’t one of the most erotic moments of your life. 

You could almost pretend that it meant nothing. 

Your mind was spinning wildly, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he noticed how strangely you were breathing or how hard your heart was beating...

“I’ve got it,” he murmured. Shivers shot down your spine at the dark timbre of his voice. 

He was so close. You could feel every word he spoke brushing softly against your skin. 

“On ‘three’ I’m going to pull it out… Are you ready?”

You drew in a final steadying breath. 

“Do it.”

He nodded. 

“One… Two… Three—”

Taehyung yanked his hand back and several things happened at once. 

Your breasts bounced almost entirely out of the corset. 

The decorative clasps on the front of your gown tangled with the buttons on his shirt and when he pulled back, three of them went flying off like stray bullets. 

And finally, the corset didn’t relinquish Taehyung’s hand quite quickly enough and, as a result, you toppled forward and crashed down on top of him, smashing your newly bare breasts to his newly bare chest. 

It could have been ten seconds or ten hours that passed by while the two of you lay there, breathing heavily in a pile of confused arousal when—

“... Is… everything alright here?”

You both looked up to find a thoroughly scandalized member of the waitstaff standing over you. 

Taehyung saw his life flash before his eyes—ending (of course) with Jimin murdering him for this. 

He gulped again. 

“I can explain.” 

It was decided—for the sake of appearances—that you would both leave the venue (immediately) in separate vehicles. 

Taehyung dropped a cool three hundred in crisp bills on the unfortunate waiter in order to help him ‘forget’ whatever he may or may not have seen. 

Neither of you spoke another word to each other in the ten minutes it took to bribe all the appropriate parties, gather your coats, and call for two separate town cars. 

Something had happened when he touched you; a subtle shift in the precarious balance of your relationship that you both felt keenly, but could not possibly begin to define. 

Taehyung barely even remembered climbing into the back of a vehicle. His body was firing on auto-pilot after the sensory overload of the last half hour. It wasn’t until he was nearly home that he realized he was still holding onto your earring. 

His mind began to wander as he examined the troublesome bauble in his palm. It was a striking piece; deceptively complex and unexpectedly beautiful. 

Just like you.

He told himself that the heat pooling low in his belly was anger—that the strange anxiousness to be near you was simply a desire for retribution—that it was merely platonic curiosity that left his hands aching to explore the rest of your curves. 

Lies.

… and pitifully transparent ones at that. 

Still, he clung to them desperately out of self-preservation. 

The gentle hum of his phone suddenly disturbed Taehyung’s silent contemplation. 

1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 

I made it home safely. 

Taehyung’s fingers were typing a reply before he could properly consider the consequence of his actions. 

To: Park Gremlin

I require proof… like last time. 

He nearly threw the phone the moment he sent it, running his hands down over his face in disbelief. 

You’re playing with fire, Kim Taehyung. 

And he was burning up already. He had no business sending you texts like that. Maybe you wouldn’t catch it. Maybe he could just-

The phone went off again and it was embarrassing how quickly he scrambled to open your response. 

His heart stuttered in his chest. His breathing ceased entirely-

And he knew—he knew—there was no coming back from this.

At first glance the photo was nearly identical to the shot you sent him last night. Same room, same angle… 

same mirror.

Yet this time, the reflection was quite different. 

The temptress in the glass wore nothing but that sinfully delicious corset and a pair of silky lace thigh highs, each accented with a green satin bow. 

He wanted to rip them off with his teeth. 

 “Oh Taehyung,” he whispered, as a dark wave primitive longing tore through him, “you are in so much trouble.”

Across town (buried beneath a pile of blankets) you were still struggling to process the boldness of your own actions when his response lit up your screen. 

1 New Message from: Kim Grinch

Green is my favorite color. 

“WHERE IS HE—”

Taehyung awoke to a series of crashes and shouts echoing from the floor below him. 

Jungkook was already seated in the corner of the room reading a newspaper. 

“Good morning, sir,” he said without looking up. “Would you like the bad news or the worse news?”

Suddenly the french doors of his bedroom slammed open and one very irate Park Jimin stormed through. 

“I swear I should have seen this coming. The two of you have always been obsessed with each other, but I never imagined—”

Taehyung’s eyes widened guiltily. He quickly schooled his features into a confused glare. 

“Jimin, I’ve only been awake for fifteen seconds. What the hell are you talking about?!”

Another stack of newspapers hit his lap and this time the pictures were mostly of him with his shirt ripped halfway down his chest. 

KIM HEIR AND PARK ANGEL CAUSE AN OLD-FASHIONED SCANDAL AT VICTORIAN BALL

FORGET MISTLETOE: KIM TAEHYUNG DISCOVERED UNDER THE PARK ANGEL AT CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION

NAUGHTY NOEL? PARK ANGEL’S STEAMY AFFAIR WITH CORPORATE PRINCE 

PARK ANGEL TOPS KIM TAEHYUNG’S CHRISTMAS TREE

He winced a bit at that last one. 

“You have ten seconds to explain before I start throwing things.”

Taehyung opened his mouth to do just that, but he was interrupted when his mother marched into the room waving the same articles that Jimin had just thrown at him. 

“KIM TAEHYUNG I raised you better than this! How could you!? That poor girl!”

“Mother!” he squeaked, yanking his blanket up over his chest like a frightened debutante. 

Jungkook began surreptitiously filming the whole debacle from the corner. 

“Indeed,” Jimin added darkly, crossing his arms over his chest, “how could you?”

Taehyung sighed heavily. 

“Is anyone else going to come charging into my bedroom?”

“Just answer me once and for all, is she pregnant?” 

“WHAT?!” 

“NO! Mother! Oh my—”

“Why does your mom think my little sister is pregnant?!”

Taehyung waved his arms wildly in exasperation. 

“My mom thinks everyone is pregnant! You know this!”

Jungkook could no longer contain his hysterical cackling. He very nearly fell off the chair trying to hold it all in. 

“Mr. Jeon,” Taehyung ground out irritably, “if it’s not too much trouble, could you please escort everyone out of my bedroom so I can get dressed!” 

“So you see—I was basically like a doctor,” Taehyung finished emphatically. 

He spent the past twenty minutes explaining to the entire table (which now included both you and your mother) why it was necessary to shove his hand down the front of your dress. 

Park Soomin had shown up at his door looking for answers (and dragging you behind her like a sacrificial lamb) about three minutes after Jimin. 

You had taken one look at Jimin’s murderous expression and insisted that the situation be evaluated over breakfast at the cafe down the street (where there were lots of witnesses). 

Which was how you, Taehyung, Jimin, and both your mothers ended up discussing your cleavage over coffee in a public restaurant. 

Jimin was the first to break. It was a few snorts at first, but he was basically in tears by the end of it, wheezing about how he never doubted Taehyung for a second and holding on to his sides from laughing too hard. 

Taehyung’s gaze met yours for a brief, heated exchange. He conveniently forgot to mention your slightly-less-than-explainable ‘check-in’ texts, but their existence was palpable in the air between you. 

“I think I’ll take a walk,” you muttered, excusing yourself from the complicated atmosphere at the table. 

Taehyung’s eyes lingered on you a tad too long as you wandered away, a fact that wasn’t missed by either of your mothers.

“Just a few more events and you can go back to not seeing her at all,” Jimin chuckled, patting him on the back. 

“Yeah,” Taehyung answered with a tight smile. “That’s… great.”

The cafe had a lovely little balcony area decorated with all sorts of comforting Christmas foliage. It was far more inviting than the awkward conversation and confusing stares you and Taehyung had been trading all morning. 

For the first time in the nearly fifteen years of your relationship (such as it was) you didn’t know where you stood with him… and it bothered you more than you cared to admit. 

Taehyung had always been important to you, whether you wanted him to be or not. He mattered—effortlessly—from the first moment you met him and continued to do so without regard for your sanity. 

Whatever was building between you now would almost certainly bring change… though what kind of change was anyone’s guess. 

It was hard to imagine the years ahead without the strange excitement he always brought to your life, but some things were simply out of your control…

“I never thought I’d see you here.”

A profoundly unpleasant feeling (something similar to falling through the ice on a frozen pond) overtook you. 

“Milo.” Even saying his name felt gross. You sighed. “What is so strange about seeing me here?”

The man in question blushed in a way you once found irresistible. 

“I looked for you everywhere. All your usual places—”

“I avoided them.”

I avoided you. 

Milo nodded. 

“I—I figured.” 

He took a step closer and you instinctively moved back. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, but you had long since become immune. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed angrily. “I thought I made myself clear the last time we spoke.”

“Yes, but—” his hand reached out to curl over your forearm and you recoiled, “you didn’t give me a chance to explain—”

“Excuse me.” 

You both turned to see Kim Taehyung with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Milo like he was a roach that crawled across his dinner plate. 

“Your mother sent me to come find you. She wants to leave.” 

You nodded and moved to pull away, but Milo’s grip tightened on your arm. 

“No—please if you just give me a minute—”

“That is enough,” Taehyung snarled, seizing the other man’s hand and forcibly removing it from your person. He angled his body between the two of you protectively. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

Milo’s eyes narrowed. 

“You’re Kim Taehyung. I read all about you in the papers this morning.” His lips twisted into an ugly sneer as he addressed you. “You really think you’re better off with him if that’s the way he treats you?”

Taehyung tensed menacingly beside you, but you laid a gentle hand on his arm to calm him. 

“None of that is any of your concern.” Your gaze rose to meet his defiantly. “Nothing about me is your concern anymore.”

Milo’s eyes fell to where your palm rested on the other man’s sleeve, noticing the way you both unconsciously leaned toward one another. 

“This isn’t over,” he muttered, storming off. 

After he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. 

“Thank you,” you whispered (though you couldn’t resist adding), “I could have handled it myself of course…”

Taehyung laughed. 

“Oh I know. I was at that party where you knocked out Tyler Jung for grabbing your ass.” 

You grinned. 

“I’d forgotten about that.”

“Well I’m sure Tyler hasn’t.” 

(He neglected to mention that he split Tyler’s lip behind the library the next day, just to make sure it was extra memorable for him.) 

“I wish I could forget about Milo.”

“... Are you still in love with him?” 

The words tasted like ash in his mouth. 

“No.” You smiled softly. “I’m not sure I was ever in love with him actually. It’s more—” you sighed, “—embarrassment… wounded pride.”

Taehyung tilted his head curiously and you found yourself continuing. 

“In the beginning, he was very playful and charming—and obviously handsome. He reminded me so much of—”

you. 

You cleared your throat. 

“Anyway… I was quite taken with him at first. I didn’t suspect any ulterior motives.” You shrugged, trying to hold back the unpleasant emotions that always threatened to overrun you in moments like this. “I just thought he liked me.”

Taehyung’s eyes filled with sympathy and understanding as you spoke. It felt oddly natural to open up to him this way. 

“Jimin is very protective of me—with good reason it turns out. He was suspicious of Milo and hired people to do some discreet digging.”

Your hands wrapped around your body for both warmth and comfort. 

“Milo’s family owns several companies, just like ours, but they’re all struggling. His father sent him to me hoping that he would eventually get compromising information… a sex tape or photographs—something of that nature. They intended to blackmail Jimin into doing business with them.”

Taehyung felt his jaw clench painfully. Fury, hot and profound, rolled through him. 

“I should kill him.”

You shook your head, amused in spite of yourself. 

“That’s exactly what Jimin said.”

“He has good instincts.”

“Scum like Milo aren’t worth it,” you chuckled. “He never got what he wanted… but I was still mortified. I felt like such a fool for believing him.”

“No,” Taehyung’s hands slid up to cup your shoulders, “it’s not foolish to believe that someone cared for you.”

It would be so easy to care for you. 

“Besides…” his eyes fell briefly to your lips as he searched for the right words, “I saw the way he looked at you and—even though he’s clearly a terrible person—I believe his feelings may have been genuine.”

You nodded. 

“That’s what he keeps trying to tell me—that he did have bad intentions, but ended up falling for me anyway.” You shook your head. “As If I could believe a word he says.”

The silence between you stretched comfortably. Taehyung sensed you had more to say, so he waited until you were ready to voice it. 

“I think that’s why I’m so sensitive about handling things on my own lately… and just now even. I want to prove to everyone—to myself—that I’m not a liability.”

“Hey,” he whispered, tipping your chin up till your gazes met, “no one thinks you’re a liability. And even if you are capable, no one should have to fight their own battles all the time—especially when they’re emotionally compromised…” His thumb gently brushed away the small tear that escaped down the curve of your cheek. “That’s the benefit of having people who care about you.”

“... Like you?” 

The words left you so softly, you could almost imagine they were still in your head where they likely should have stayed. 

Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. His gaze became even more intent and you ceased breathing altogether. After a moment his lips parted as if he was about to speak- 

“What’s going on, guys?”

You both jerked back at the sound of your brother’s voice. He was standing in the entrance to the balcony, gaze darting suspiciously between the two of you. 

Taehyung was a bit dazed, but you were always quicker on your feet. 

“I ran into Milo… Tae was calming me down.”

Jimin’s eyes hardened immediately. 

“Where is he?”

“Long gone,” you mumbled, ambling over to the familiar warmth of his arms. “I just want to go home.” 

The Black and White Ball was one of the most coveted invitations of the holiday season. 

The dress code was quite strict (all black or all white—no exceptions) and it was one of the few events where people actually arrived in limousines. 

Taehyung loathed limousines. He felt absurdly pretentious pulling up to your building in such a gauche ride, but traditions and appearances meant too much in his world to simply disregard them. 

His ensemble for the evening was a beautifully tailored black suit with hand-stitched baroque detailing. Oddly, he found himself wondering what you would think of it... 

“You look like a vampire.”

Taehyung turned at the sound of your voice and was struck, yet again, by how incredibly beautiful you were. 

You had chosen to wear white, donning an exquisite gown with delicate pearl beading and a daring sweetheart neckline that molded perfectly to your frame. 

If he looked like a vampire, you were surely an angel. 

Still…

Angel or not, he couldn’t let that comment pass. 

“I think I’m offended.”

“I can’t imagine why. After all, loads of women are attracted to Nosferatu.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. 

“There are so many sexy vampires in popular culture, but you just had to lump me in with the creepy bald one...”

You shrugged playfully. 

“I wouldn’t want you to think I was going soft.”

A wicked grin danced over your lips as you strolled past him regally—just as you had many times before... 

This time, however, he let his eyes linger a little longer on the view. 

Lord have mercy. 

“Of course not,” he coughed. 

“You’re what?!”

You rolled your eyes.

Tonight had been going rather well. 

The two of you formed a mutual unspoken agreement to pretend that your last encounter on the balcony (and on the phone) had never happened and (despite the heated glances you occasionally traded) the bickering and playful banter characteristic of your relationship had all but returned to normal...

Until Taehyung learned of your participation in the evening’s main event. 

“I told you, I’m part of the date auction this year.”

“Does your brother know about this?!”

“I didn’t see any reason to bother him with it.” You were suddenly preoccupied with your nails. 

“Woman,” Taehyung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are you trying to make my life difficult?”

“No, I’m just naturally gifted in that respect.”

You turned and began making your way to the front, but Taehyung was hot on your heels and clearly not ready to let the matter rest. 

“I cannot believe you’re actually going through with this! It’s not 1810, you know. We shouldn’t just auction off women for dates—”

“You’re absolutely right, Tae Tae.” You brushed a condescending pat over his cheek. “Nowadays we auction off the men too.”

Then you sauntered off to join the rest of the participating women—and men—backstage, leaving Taehyung to stew about the entire situation from the crowd. 

“As you know, all proceeds from tonight’s auction go to fight childhood hunger right here in our city. For legal purposes, I must advise all bidders that you are only bidding on the company of the individual in question.”

Taehyung shook his head. “Jimin is probably going to kill me for this.”

“If you place the winning bid, then you and your date will receive two VIP tickets to the Governor's Winter Wonderland Gala which comes with a variety of amenities including; a luxury limousine service, one of the private and famously romantic Winter Wonderland dinner experiences—”

His eyes fluttered shut. “Jimin is definitely gonna kill me for this.” 

“—unlimited free drinks, ten complimentary tickets for each of the grand prize raffles, photos with the Governor and his family, along with many more surprises!”

Taehyung grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and downed it in one go. 

“And now for our first date of the evening! Mr. Jackson Wang!” 

Jackson went for a cool six grand because no one was brave enough to outbid his girlfriend. 

After him, the beautiful Manoban heiress and her handsome cousin Kim Namjoon went for twelve grand each.

Jung Hoseok started a frenzied bidding war between two young socialites and Mrs. O’Malley. He ended up going to the lovely Ms. Ana Fallon for a staggering twenty thousand dollars. 

Taehyung’s own cousin, Kim Seokjin, paid a jaw-dropping twenty-one thousand dollars for Lin Yuna, the young CEO of Lin Cosmetics. (Taehyung made a mental note to ask him about that later.) 

Then it was your turn. 

“The next lady on our list needs no introduction. The lovely Park Angel has graciously agreed to a date with one lucky bidder tonight! Who will it be? Do I hear ten thousand?”

“Ten thousand.”

Taehyung swung his head toward the first bidder and breathed a sigh of relief. 

Tam Martin, one of your best friends and very gay. 

“Eleven thousand.”

“Twelve thousand.”

“Fifteen.”

“Sixteen thousand dollars.”

“Seventeen thousand.”

“Eighteen.”

Taehyung was having trouble keeping up with all the bidders. His ears were starting to ring again and a strange unpleasant nausea was building in his stomach. 

“Twenty thousand.”

“Twenty-five thousand.”

“Thirty thousand!”

At the sound of the last bidder’s voice, you noticeably paled. Your eyes flew to Taehyung’s and immediately he knew exactly who it was. 

Milo.

Before he could even react to the new information, another voice joined the fray. 

“Forty thousand.”

Min Yoongi smiled smugly from the other side of the room and even had the audacity to throw you a wink. 

You smiled shyly at the young heir’s boldness and Taehyung felt something downright unholy rise up in his chest. 

No. 

Milo was still bidding. 

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

Not her. 

“Sixty,” Yoongi countered.

She’s mine. 

Suddenly Taehyung was on his feet. 

“One hundred thousand dollars!” 

The silence in the backseat of your limousine was deafening. 

Tension charged the air like an electric current as the significance of the last hour weighed heavily between you. 

The spacious luxury vehicle allowed you to sit facing one another. Taehyung’s eyes were focused on his hands, but you were looking at him—letting your mind run wild with speculation. 

And hope. 

Part of you was still there, on the stage, watching him stand up and bid a fortune for the pleasure of your company. 

His gaze was so fierce when he spoke, like an ancient emperor calling out his decree for the people to obey. 

You dreamed about him bidding on you when you signed up for the auction (even before Jimin bullied him into accompanying you). You let yourself imagine him speaking out again and again till the others stepped back—

Yet you never dared hope for it. 

However, the last several days marked an unexpected turning point in your relationship. 

For years, you and he were like magnets with a too-similar charge, but something had shifted irrevocably between you, and somehow your stubborn similarities became opposites that could not resist their attraction. 

Kim Taehyung was one of the wealthiest men in the city…

But he didn’t need to buy your heart. 

It had always been his, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 

He had claimed you tonight—and every single soul in that ballroom knew it. 

The next move was yours and you intended to make it. 

“Mmm,” you hissed a bit, bringing your hand to rest just below your breasts. 

Taehyung’s gaze flew up in concern. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, it’s just that scratch from the earring,” your fingers rubbed gingerly at the spot, drawing his focus to it, “it still stings.”

“Oh… I—” he shook his head, “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

“Do you want to see?” 

Taehyung’s eyes rose slowly to yours. 

You watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he considered your words. Anticipation vibrated through your blood like notes struck on a piano—

Then he nodded...

And you both were lost. 

Trembling fingers slid the zipper down the side of your gown. The dress itself was a marvel of physics designed to support you without the need for a bra. 

Taehyung drew in an impossibly deep breath as the fabric drifted to your waist, baring the perfect mounds of your breasts to him entirely. 

“Here,” you whispered, pointing to a small red mark just under the curve of your left one. 

He bit back a moan. 

“I—I see. That looks… painful.” His fingers dug into the seat beside him. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

You nodded. 

“Kiss it better.”

Taehyung felt the air knock out of his lungs like a sucker punch. 

This must have been how Adam felt when Eve offered him the forbidden fruit all those millennia ago. 

He knew he shouldn’t—

but he could never deny you. 

“Of course.”

You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He looked like a man possessed and you reveled in the power of it. 

It was for you. 

He wanted you. 

Your back arched up the slightest bit, beckoning to him—offering him a taste of what he was so desperately craving. 

Touch me… please. 

Large palms landed on either side of your thighs, bracing him on the seat beneath you. The tip of his nose teased the delicate line of your collar bone and he swore violently under his breath. 

Then his lips were on your skin and your mind went blank. 

“Taehyung—“ you moaned. 

Hot open-mouthed kisses spread over the soft swell of your breast and you gasped— shuddering helplessly as a fierce wave of pleasure tore through you.

Sweet merciful heavens. 

Over the years you imagined a moment like this thousands of times in your head—only to discover now that you had pitifully underestimated both his passion and his skill. 

You had dreamed of a quiet fire—but he had unleashed an inferno. 

The lewd sounds of his mouth nipping and sucking at your tender flesh filled the small space around you as he poured himself into each obscene contact—stopping briefly to flick his tongue over the taunt peak of your nipple. You trembled breathlessly at the sharp snap of sensation, letting your head fall back against the seat as you buried your fingers in his soft curls. 

“T-Tae—”

Finally his mouth fastened over the tiny scratch, and the kiss deepened. You knew what he was doing, what the result of his efforts would be—

He was marking you. 

And you wanted it. 

Oh how you wanted it. 

Suddenly the car took a sharp turn, causing Taehyung to lose his grip on the seat. His arms wrapped around your torso for balance, dragging you fully against him.

“Does it feel better, Angel?” he growled. 

You nodded frantically and he nipped at the underside of your breast. 

“Speak up.”  

“Yes, Taehyung,” you whimpered, “it feels so much better.” 

“Mmmm,” he hummed, brushing his mouth along the sensitive column of your neck. “Who knew you could be such a good girl?”

Then his hand came up to grip your chin, turning it so your lips were almost against his—

“Madame. We’ve arrived.”

The driver’s voice cut over your senses like a shard of ice. 

Taehyung jerked backward and immediately buried his face in his hands. 

Your fingers hastily yanked your dress up and you stumbled out of the car in a daze, letting your feet carry you forward until you collapsed on top of your bed. 

Did we just...

You hadn’t even begun to collect your thoughts when your phone buzzed from inside your purse. 

1 New Message from: Taehyung 🙄🥴🙈

I need to know you made it safely to your room. 

You grinned. 

Greedy boy. 

Back in the limousine, the boy in question was nervously tapping the corner of his phone against his chin as he waited for your reply. 

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Oh? But you saw me walk in… and I’m already in bed.

Taehyung growled in frustration. 

She would be a tease. 

To: Angel 🤬🥵😅

I tend to worry. Put my mind at ease. 

He shook his head. 

I have officially gone insane. 

The phone buzzed again. 

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Well… We can’t have that can we… 

Taehyung literally felt the whine tear out of him as he opened the picture. 

Your gorgeous body (the body he’d had his hands and mouth on for one glorious minute) was nestled decadently atop a pile of fluffy blue blankets and wrapped in nothing but a tiny silk robe. 

The neck gaped open just enough to show off the pretty red marks he left on the delectable curve of your breast. 

He groaned, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

To: Angel 🤬🥵😅

That's all I get after I made the pain go away? Good girls send real proof, Angel

The screen lit up again almost immediately. 

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Guess I’m not such a good girl after all...

Jimin came tearing through the Kim Manor front gate at precisely 7 AM—only to find Jungkook camped out at the entrance with several outdoor space heaters and a giant mug of hot chocolate.

“He told you not to let me in, didn’t he?”

Jungkook took a long satisfying sip of his cocoa. 

“I hope you don’t feel singled out, sir. I’m not allowed to let his mother in either.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“Of course, Mr. Park, let me just pull up his schedule—”

“I need to talk to him now.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Kim is booked solid for the morning.”

Jimin stomped his foot like a petulant child. 

“I know he’s up there.”

Jungkook grinned. 

“You’re welcome to climb the trellis and check. I promise not to stop you if you make it all the way up.”

“COME DOWN HERE AND FACE ME YOU COWARD!” Jimin shouted at the top of his lungs. 

Jungkook took another long pull of his drink. 

“Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit today, sir?”

“The reason for my visit,” Jimin yanked out his phone and angrily began typing into the search bar, “is that your boss paid ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS for my sister at a date auction last night and I want to know what the hell is going on between them!”

The article Jimin pulled up (DEVILISH KIM TAEHYUNG BUYS HIMSELF A $100,000 ANGEL) featured an image of the two of you entering the Black and White Ball. Your head was thrown back in laughter and Taehyung was grinning down at you as if you’d personally hung all the stars in the sky for him. 

A genuine smile crept over Jungkook’s face as he studied the photograph. 

“That’s quite a headline.” He handed Jimin’s phone back. “Have you asked your sister about it?”

“No, I swung by earlier, but she wasn’t home so—” His eyes widened. “Oh my—is she—”

Jimin suddenly took off running for the trellis, and Jungkook scrambled out of his chair to chase him. 

“KIM TAEHYUNG IF MY SISTER IS IN THAT ROOM—”

He was already three feet off the ground when Jungkook yanked him back. 

“I thought you said I could climb the trellis!”

“Yes,” Jungkook wheezed, “but I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” That trellis is a hundred years old! A few more feet and I’d be scraping you off the antique brickwork!”

Jimin scowled and crossed his arms. 

“Are you by any chance open to bribes?”

“Normally yes, but Tae promised to double my Christmas bonus if I didn’t accept them today.”

Jimin continued to eye the trellis speculatively, clearly willing to take his chances. Jungkook sighed and rubbed his forehead. 

“Mr. Park, I promise you… He came home alone last night. In fact, they both returned earlier than usual because your sister had a 7 AM finance meeting.” He paused significantly to glance at his watch. “Which is probably where she is right now.”

“Oh… Well.”

Jungkook bit his lip to hold back a snort and Jimin’s eyes narrowed. 

“He has to come down eventually.”

“One would think.”

The young Park heir glanced toward Taehyung’s window again just in time to see the man in question dart back behind the curtains. 

"I KNOW YOU'RE AWAKE, KIM TAEHYUNG, YOU PHILANDERING SLEAZE BAG!" 

Jimin made another jump for the trellis and this time Jungkook caught him in mid-air. 

“Sir, I’m sure it was just the maid!”

“It’s not the maid! I’d know that raggedy mop of his anywhere!”

Jungkook was out of breath at this point. Park Jimin might be small, but he was fierce. 

“Perhaps it’s best if you took a moment to collect yourself,” he grunted. “There’s a lovely new spa down the street and they sent Taehyung two free deluxe packages.”

Jimin stopped struggling. 

“Oh?”

Five minutes later, Jungkook sighed deeply and fished his phone out of his back pocket. 

“He’s gone, sir.”

“Excellent work, Jungkook. I never doubted you for a second.”

“However…”

“... However?”

“I had to give him your spa passes.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“Are you headed for a gala or the guillotine?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t pay extra for commentary.”

“It’s complimentary, sir.”

The Kim heir tugged absently at the material of his absurdly expensive evening wear. 

Why do these events always have to be so uncomfortable? 

“Seriously, Tae… you seem,” the young aide searched for the right words, “unusually tense.”

Taehyung’s mind flashed back to three nights ago when he had his mouth wrapped around your breast. 

“Not at all,” he coughed, loosening the collar of his shirt. 

Jungkook bit his lip.

“Is this about Ms. Park, sir?”

The cufflinks Taehyung was attempting to fasten suddenly went flying across the room and hit a lamp. 

Both men winced. 

“I think that was your grandmother’s.”

Taehyung sighed. 

“I admit there have been… some developments.”

Jungkook nodded nonchalantly, trying to disguise the fact that he was internally frothing at the mouth for details. 

“... Such as?”

Taehyung gulped. 

“It started out rather innocently I suppose…” he cleared his throat, “but there may have been some suggestive photographs.”

“There may have been? Are you not sure?”

Taehyung colored guiltily. 

“Well—”

“Do you need me to check for you, sir? I have an art history degree.”

“Absolutely not.”

Jungkook grinned. 

“That’s what I thought.”

Taehyung yanked his tie out of the younger man’s hand. 

“Things have… escalated a bit.”

“Escalated how?”

I licked her tit in the back of a limo.

“Physically.”

It was everything Jungkook could do to maintain a straight face. 

“That’s… shocking.”

“Then why don’t you seem shocked?” Taehyung grumbled. 

A small smile played across Jungkook’s lips as he pointedly ignored the elder man’s observation.

“So what are you going to do, sir?”

Taehyung was silent for a long moment. 

“I honestly have no idea.”

Watching you walk toward him was an experience.  

Taehyung wondered absently if this was how it would be from now on; if for the rest of his life just the sight of you would be enough to scatter his mind and his pulse and even the way he breathed. 

Your dress tonight was deadly. 

It was a decadent red satin halter that clung to every curve. The truly wicked detail, however, was a daring slit that ran the entire length of your leg. 

Taehyung was certain he was going to trip over his own tongue at some point if he looked directly at you for too long. 

Oh help. 

Memories of your previous encounter flooded his senses. Every second you were getting closer and he didn’t know what to do—what to say. 

So he didn’t say anything at all. 

Not a word when you reached the bottom of the stairs. Nothing but silence as he opened the door of the limo for you. More silence and no eye contact as he settled into the seat across from yours—

And you tolerated that for about three minutes. 

“I never thought I’d see the day when Kim Taehyung didn’t have a comment about something. Perhaps I should mark this down on my calendar.”

The words were lightly spoken, but you were shaking on the inside. The last time the two of you were alone together he had your dress around your waist and you were moaning his name. Now he wasn’t talking and you were torn between panic and irritation. 

Taehyung, however, latched onto your passive barb like a lifeline. 

“Is that a hint of sarcasm I hear from the benevolent Park Angel?” He grinned. “Surely not.”

“Red is not a particularly angelic color. Perhaps I’m feeling feisty today.”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat and indulged himself in a thorough examination of your outfit. The urge to run his hands over the satin-covered lines of your body was nearly unbearable. He curled his fingers into fists to keep them from doing just that. 

She is definitely trying to kill me. 

“Should I be worried?”

Now it was your turn to grin. 

“I guess we’ll find out.”

The Governor’s Winter Wonderland Gala was by far the most extravagant event of the holiday season. Tickets cost a small fortune and sold out almost immediately. 

But it was well worth the price of admission.

Thousands of lights sparkled overhead as you made your way through the great hall of Governor Kim’s mansion. 

It was like stepping into a fairytale. 

Taehyung couldn’t take his eyes off you. The sheer wonder in your expression was breathtaking. 

You were breathtaking.  

“Governor Kim, it is such an honor to finally meet you.”

The Governor was a handsome man in his early fifties with a smile that was every bit as lethal as it had been twenty-five years ago. 

“The honor is all mine, Ms. Park. I trust my nephew is treating you well.”

Your eyes widened. 

“N-nephew?”

Taehyung shrugged. 

“I don’t really talk about it much.” 

The Governor chuckled and you cleared your throat to cover your nervousness. 

“Yes, he’s been a very capable escort.”

“Is that so?” Governor Kim smiled charmingly. “Well if it doesn’t work out, my son Seokjin is still single—”

“Thank you, Uncle. It was lovely to see you as always.”

You squeaked as Taehyung placed his hand firmly on the curve of your back and practically dragged you away. 

The Governor just shook his head and laughed. 

“Oh kid, you’ve got it bad.”

Everywhere you looked there was beauty. 

Whoever planned the gala this year had truly gone above and beyond. Surrounded on all sides by glittering trees and snowy vignettes, it was easy to be swept away in the festive magic of the evening. 

All in all (despite some initial awkwardness), you were having a fantastic time...

Until she showed up. 

“Kim Taehyung! Is that you?”

Every single hair on your body stood on end, but before you could determine the source of the shrill squealing, you found yourself being nudged aside by a blinding golden gown and some very high heels. 

“Aubrey,” Taehyung grunted as five-and-half feet of gorgeous wrapped herself around him like a clinging vine. “Long time no see.”

“Not since that vacation in Aspen,” she giggled. “We had quite a time, didn’t we Tae Tae!”

Suddenly you had the most unholy urge to slap the spray tan right off this woman. 

Instead, you plastered on a vibrant smile and placed your hand on Taehyung’s sleeve.

“Um. Excuse me, Tae Tae, perhaps you could introduce us?”

Taehyung looked as if he’d just been served raw fire ants for dinner. 

“Yes. Of course. This is—”

“Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine,” she interrupted with a smug little smirk. “Taehyung and I go way back.” Her expression grew just the slightest bit tighter. “And you are?”

“His date,” you deadpanned. 

“Aubrey,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “I’d like you to meet Ms. Park she’s—”

“Oh my goodness! You’re Jimin’s little sister aren't you!” Aubrey slapped her hand over his chest and he winced. “That is so precious of you to take her around like this!”

Your eyebrows raised right up into your hairline and Taehyung groaned. 

“Yes, he was kind enough to sign me out of the nursery for the evening.” You offered them both a painfully vacant nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I see one of my play-dates near the buffet.”

Then you turned on your heel and sauntered off without another word. 

Taehyung moved to follow you, but Aubrey curled her fingers into the crook of his arm and pulled him back. 

“Oh let her go, Tae. You and I have so much catching up to do.”

Taehyung pointedly removed her hand from his elbow. 

“Some other time perhaps.” 

Aubrey pouted prettily. 

“You’re not running off after her are you? She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”

Taehyung crossed his arms and fixed her with a knowing look. 

“Funny... that’s not what you were implying a moment ago.”

“A moment ago I didn’t have you all to myself. Now I do.” She had the decency to blush. “Perhaps I got a bit jealous.”

“You don’t say.” His eyes continued to search the crowd for any sign of you. 

“It seems I had good reason to be,” she murmured quietly. 

“Aubrey... Listen I—”

She cut him off with a finger to his lips.

“Don’t bother Tae Tae. I’m petty, but I’ve never been pathetic.”

He grinned. 

“Never.”

The lady sighed and gave him a heated once over.

“What a shame.”

Then she strolled off with a rueful smile. 

“You know what I don’t understand?”

You turn to find Min Yoongi leaning casually against a nearby column. He looked absurdly handsome as always, but his grin was just the slightest bit mischievous. 

“What don’t you understand, Mr. Min?”

The question was clearly a bait, but you were still fuming from your earlier encounter with Ms. St. Valentine and therefore desperately in need of a distraction. 

Yoongi pushed off the column and lazily made his way toward you.

“I don’t understand how a man pays a hundred thousand dollars for an evening with the most beautiful woman in the city, and then leaves her all by herself.” He leaned forward with a playful grin. “Perhaps you could enlighten me?”

Oh he’s good. 

You made a show of tapping your chin thoughtfully. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that one.”

Yoongi sighed and shook his head. 

“Couldn’t be me.”

You laughed then. He really was a delightful man. In fact, if you still had your heart, you might have considered letting him take a shot at it. 

Alas. 

You tilted your head speculatively. 

Surely there was no need to brush away good company...

After all, no one else is interested in spending time with me. 

“Since my escort is otherwise occupied, perhaps you could join me for dinner?”

Yoongi held out his hand. 

“I’d be delighted.”

Taehyung wandered around the mansion for nearly forty-five minutes looking for his date.  

Panic was just starting to build in his chest when he finally spotted you

—at his private dining table with Min Yoongi. 

It was everything he could do not to storm over and yank the other man out of his seat by the lapels. 

Alright, Angel. If this is the game you want to play… then let’s play. 

Taehyung felt his anger rise with every step, but he ruthlessly suppressed any sign of it and instead adopted a charming smile. 

“Min, I didn’t expect to find you here. What a… delightful surprise.”

Yoongi’s expression was just a shade too satisfied. Taehyung could already feel his blood pressure beginning to skyrocket. 

“Yes, Ms. Park believed that you were otherwise occupied and invited me to share the meal with her.”

“I see,” Taehyung practically snarled. “However,” his gaze landed heavily on you, “since I paid for this table, I hope you won’t mind if I join you as well?”

You avoided looking at him up to this point, but now you were choking on your wine

“Easy there, Angel,” Taehyung murmured as he pulled up a seat extremely close to yours—so close that your thighs were nearly touching. 

Oh boy. 

Over the next several minutes Yoongi continued to flirt openly and you continued to smile prettily and pretend Taehyung wasn’t there (which naturally infuriated him). 

You should have known he wouldn’t let you get away with such behavior so easily. 

This was Kim Taehyung, after all, and if there was anything that could be counted on when it came to your shared history, it was that one (or both) of you was always ready to escalate. 

You had just offered the young Min heir yet another flowery compliment when you felt Taehyung make his move. 

Two warm fingers slid under the silken slit of your dress, coming to rest possessively over the soft flesh of your inner thigh. 

You squeaked and nearly spat up your drink. 

Taehyung leaned forward in fake concern, wrapping his arm around you as if to offer aid. 

“Are you alright?”

His hand continued to move significantly beneath your gown, but his face was the picture of innocence. 

You glared. 

“Just fine, thank you.”

A slow grin crept across his features as he began to trace soft intimate patterns over your skin.  

On the other side of the table, Yoongi tilted his head in genuine solicitude. “Are you sure?”

You nodded sharply. 

Satisfied, he resumed speaking about whatever it was he’d been saying—though you couldn’t understand a word of it at this point because the torturous strokes Taehyung was leisurely drawing over your thighs were moving closer to your center with each passing second. 

Yet you made no move to stop him. 

You should have. 

You should have slapped his touch away—rebuked him for his boldness—

But you didn’t. 

So he just kept nodding and smiling while Yoongi spoke, even as his fingers teased you with the maddening persistence of a man who knew very well what he was doing. 

You gasped aloud when he finally brushed the pad of his thumb over the thin cotton of your panties. 

“T-Taehyung—” 

“Hmm?” he turned to you, seemingly surprised by your attention (it was—after all—the first time you’d addressed him since the beginning of the meal).

“Could you pass me the salt,” you sputtered (hoping to cover the fact that you moaned his name involuntarily). Unfortunately, Taehyung seemed wholly aware of your ruse, offering you the salt shaker with a superior smirk.

You seriously considered stabbing him with a fork. 

However, before you could carry out any bloodthirsty plans, he pressed his fingers directly over your clit and your eyes rolled back in your head

“Oh my g—” you bit your lip stubbornly, “this lamb is just so good.” 

Sweet mother of macaroons, he is too skilled at this. 

You shoveled another bite into your mouth to cover your whine as Taehyung began to rub tight little circles over your sweet spot. 

Across the table, Yoongi nodded in blissful unawareness. 

“Yes, I agree, the lamb is excellent—very tender.”

Taehyung took advantage of the momentary distraction to slip beneath the fabric of your undergarment. 

Your fork clattered to your plate and your hand came up to cover your mouth as he began running his fingers up and down your soaked slit.

It was everything you could do to hold back your depraved whimpering. 

“I can’t wait to taste it,” Taehyung replied, flicking your clit in a way that guaranteed he wasn’t referring to the lamb. 

At this point Yoongi seemed to notice you were in some sort of distress. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned forward. 

“Ms. Park, are you well?”

Taehyung chose that moment to sink his finger into the welcoming heat of your pussy. 

“Yes,” you almost sobbed, “I’m-I’m very well—thank you.”

“Excellent,” Yoongi smiled as he rose to his feet. “If you’re feeling up to it, perhaps you could favor me with a dance?”

Several attendees were already making their way to the center of the floor and the orchestra was beginning to play.

Your entire body, however, was vibrating like a plucked harp string and Taehyung was still brushing back and forth against your clit, driving you toward a release that promised to be explosive. 

There was no way—simply no way—that you would be capable of hiding it. 

“Yes! I would love to dance with you,” you squeaked, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist frantically. The feel of him pulling out of your sopping core was nearly enough to have you coming right there. 

Thankfully, Yoongi remained utterly oblivious to the debauchery unfolding beneath the table. He took your hand and helped you to your feet with an eager smile (and it was a good thing too because your legs were still shaking). 

When the two of you reached the dance floor, you turned back for the briefest instant—

just long enough to meet Taehyung’s heated gaze as his lips closed over the finger he buried in your cunt. 

Emotions were a funny thing. 

They impacted your judgement, affected your body, altered your behavior… 

And occasionally eroded your common sense. 

Sitting alone in the corner of the Governor’s ballroom, Kim Taehyung found himself experiencing a full spectrum of emotional side-effects. 

His hands clenched as he watched Min Yoongi spin you around the floor. 

His heart pounded every time he caught a flash of your shapely leg peeking through the slit in your gown. 

His blood boiled when you threw your head back and laughed at something the other man said. 

It was difficult to pinpoint which emotion was to blame for each of these reactions. There were certainly a number of them boiling over in his subconscious. 

Frustration—

I didn’t even want to talk to Aubrey! How are you acting like anything she said was my fault?!

Rage—  

Why is challenging people to duels illegal? I would fight Min Yoongi at dawn. I would fight Min Yoongi now. 

Jealousy—

You asked her to dance while my fingers were in her pussy. We are not the same. 

But perhaps the most persistent—the most overwhelming— emotion twisting through him was longing. 

You and Taehyung spent nearly four years apart, and he was so desperate to be near you—even then—that he resorted to childish pranks in order to remain a part of your life. 

He hadn’t recognized his actions or desires for what they were. He hadn’t realized what you meant to him...

But now, after spending the last several days with your hand on his arm and your laughter in his ear, he could no longer imagine spending another moment without you. 

Everything seemed to crystallize as he watched you laughing and dancing in the arms of another man. 

Uncertainty became clear. Complications became simple. 

And when he saw Min Yoongi’s hand slide dangerously close to the perfect swell of your backside—

Emotion became action.

“Mind if I cut in?”

It wasn’t a question really. Taehyung was already shouldering his rival out of the way and pulling you into his arms. 

“Taehyung,” you hissed, shooting the bewildered Yoongi an apologetic look over his shoulder, “what are you doing? This is so rude—”

“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, sweeping you through the couples on the floor with practiced ease. “It is unpardonably rude to steal someone else’s date. He’s lucky all I did was steal you back.”

Your mouth dropped open. 

“Oh? So you finally remembered that I was your date?”

Taehyung’s grip on the curve of your waist became a shade rougher as he pulled you through the next turn. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means—” you stepped forward vigorously, nearly smashing your body into his, “—that you spent forty-five minutes with Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine when you were supposed to be having dinner with me!”

Taehyung growled and yanked you flush against him. 

“I spent forty-five minutes looking for you while you were giving away my table to Min Yoongi!”

The two of you sailed through the next several movements glaring at one another before you snapped again. 

“None of this would have happened if you had just told Aubrey St. Spray Tan that you were with me—”

“I did!”

“Instead, you let her call me a baby!”

“What let? Aubrey is a grown woman!”

“But—”

“And—you stormed off before I could say anything, so how would you know what I let?”

“You didn’t come after me!”

“Yes actually I did—but she grabbed my arm!”

“Really? Well what else did she grab?”

Taehyung abruptly realized how silent everything around you had become. 

People were staring—and not even discreetly— just full on staring with their mouths hanging open. 

Well that’s great. 

Taehyung’s hand closed around yours and you suddenly found yourself being marched across the dance floor at a breakneck pace.

“What are you doing?”

“Continuing this discussion in private.”

“We can’t just go somewhere private in the Governor’s mansion!” you sputtered, struggling to keep up with his larger strides. 

“You mean in my uncle’s house? Yes—actually we can—and we will.”

Taehyung proved to be a man of his word, dragging you past two security guards and into the roped off section of the manor with nothing more than a nod. 

The residential wing of the Governor’s home was beautifully decorated with traditional Korean artistic touches—all of which you were unable to appreciate while Taehyung was speed walking you through the halls. 

After a surprising amount of turns and archways, he yanked open an ornate wooden door with the words Reflection Suite written on a plaque above it in beautiful calligraphy. 

You almost giggled when you got a look inside. 

On the surface it was a tastefully furnished guest room with a simple cherry wood desk and a cozy double bed set in an elegant matching frame.

However—

The ceiling and one full wall were nothing but massive mirrors. 

Reflection suite indeed. 

The door slammed shut and Taehyung rounded on you with a stormy expression—though you weren’t waiting on him to fire the first volley.

“This is definitely going to get us in trouble.”

“I told you, I can go wherever I want in this house. It’s fine.”

“Then why did you take us here?”

“Because you were shouting—”

“I was shouting?! You were shouting I just—”

Suddenly your back was against the wall and Taehyung’s mouth was on yours. 

He hadn’t brought you here for this. When he grabbed your hand, he was only trying to get away from the crowds. He told himself that he needed privacy so you could talk—so he could clarify things. 

But the minute the door closed and you flared up again in all your magnificent rage, he was lost. 

He had to kiss you then. 

You were so lovely. So fierce. So wildly irresistible and he was too utterly smitten to fight the need to be near you—to be with you in every way that he could—for a single second more. 

The shock of Kim Taehyung pressing his lips to yours lasted about two full seconds—and then there was nothing but ravenous insatiable need. 

Finally. 

Everything was him. 

Everything was this—this sweet indescribable ignition of a desire that spanned years. You moaned eagerly against his mouth in wanton delight. After a decade of sparks, you were more than ready to burn. 

“Taehyung—”

His name poured out of you like a prayer. You needed him everywhere and miraculously he seemed to understand—

Not that he was prepared to be polite about it. 

“Where’s that smart mouth now, Angel?” he growled, tangling his hands in your hair to expose the tender column of your throat. “Nothing to say?”

Your only answer was a desperate whine as he spread hot-open mouthed kisses down the soft skin of your neck all the way to your collarbone.

Now was not the time for patience. He would be tender with you later. You absolutely deserved soft sweet caresses and slow leisurely love making and he was absolutely going to give them to you—every day if you’d let him. 

But not today. 

The minute his mouth encountered the barrier of your dress, he gripped onto the sides and yanked it down to your waist.

“You knew just what you were doing in the back of that limo, you little brat,” he hissed, taking one swollen nipple into his mouth and tormenting it with his tongue.

“Tae-ahhh!” Your back arched involuntarily in ruthless pleasure. 

“I spent hours—days even—wanting to get my hands on these perfect tits.” He licked the other nipple obscenely, squeezing the soft mound till it bulged through his fingers. “And you offered me the barest taste with that coy little grin, knowing it wouldn’t be enough—” 

He reared back and landed a firm slap on both breasts and you screamed.

It was so so good. 

“Look at them now,” he murmured, “so swollen and needy and mine.”

If any other man had said those words, you would have cut his heart out with a butter knife. 

But you had always belonged to this man body and soul, and to hear him acknowledge it so primitively felt like the sweetest vindication. 

“Yes!” you sobbed.

The affirmation only inflamed him further. He teased and fondled the tender flesh till you were shaking.

Your fingers curled into the soft waves of his hair as he indulged himself. He looked so ridiculously good sucking your nipple, moaning lewdly with his eyes pressed shut in cathartic bliss. 

“This is all your fault, Angel,” he groaned. “You just don’t know how to behave.”

His hands gripped the curve of your backside, lifting you right off the floor and into his arms. Your mouths fused together heatedly as he carried you to the bed, and you giggled against him when his words finally processed. 

“You’ve been saying that for years.” 

“It’s been true for years,” he muttered, pulling one of your legs up around him so he could grind against your cunt while you kissed. 

Your fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, tearing them off when they didn’t unhook fast enough. You waited too long to be with him like this to care about anything other than the feel of his skin against your own.

“Impatient, are we?” he chuckled, bringing his lips around to nip at your ear. 

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, yanking the ruined garment right off his shoulder just so you could sink your teeth into it. 

Taehyung moaned loudly, snapping his hips against yours with an involuntary jerk.

“You really are such a brat,” he hissed, fisting his hands in the satin length of your skirt. “Let’s see how fierce you are with my tongue in your pussy—”

His words were so filthy and raw, yet they stoked a frenzied need in your belly like nothing you had ever encountered. 

“This dress is evil,” he snarled, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before switching to a more destructive tactic. “It has tormented me all night and now it’s in my way.”

The stitching proved no match for his resolve, and—after a few vigorous tugs—he ripped it apart from the slit on up, leaving you covered in nothing but the thin cotton underwear he had breached earlier that evening. 

After disposing of your shredded gown, Taehyung paused for a moment just to take in the sight of you. 

“What a perfect little angel,” he taunted playfully, snapping the band of your lingerie against your hips with a cocky grin. 

Then he brushed his nose right up against the sopping fabric and inhaled deeply. “You smell just like heaven,” he growled before licking you right through the cloth, “and you taste even better.”

The sensations twisting through your body were merciless. You needed more or you were going to shake apart. 

“Taehyung please,” you whined, pressing against him shamelessly.

“Oh a please?” he chuckled, throwing your own words from the first night back at you. “Who knew you had manners?”

You would have screamed in frustration, but he cut you off with an open mouthed kiss right over the wettest part of your panties.

“Perhaps I can make a good girl of you yet,” he chuckled, as you opened yourself wider to encourage him. 

You nodded frantically, letting out another moan when he yanked the flimsy little scrap of lace down your legs—smearing a line of arousal over your thighs.

“So messy,” he tsked, tapping his finger right above your knee where the naughty little streak ended. “What am I going to do with you?” 

Then he pressed his tongue over the shiny trail of slick and licked it right off. 

You gasped loudly and his lascivious smirk was almost beautiful enough to make up for all of the shameless teasing. 

Almost. 

"You want my mouth, pretty Angel?” he whispered, letting the words brush maddeningly against your folds. “You want me to feed on this sweet little cunt?”

Every cell in your body cried out for release. He already edged you under the table at dinner and now he was determined to unravel you entirely. You would say anything—do anything. 

"Please—" you whispered.

"Please who?" 

Normally you met his arrogance with a cutting riposte, but an entire evening of methodical torment had left you beyond desperate. 

"Please Taehyung,” you begged needily. 

He grinned. 

“That’s right, Angel. Kim Taehyung. Not Min Yoongi or any other pathetic trust fund prick that’s panting for a taste of this pussy.” His eyes fastened on yours significantly. “You belong to me.”

Then his tongue licked a flat stripe over your glistening slit and you sagged onto the bed in relief—only to be thrown back into oblivion when his lips closed over your clit. 

Your body arched involuntarily as a ruthless wave of pleasure tore through you. Your eyes and mouth flew open in a silent scream and it was in that moment you remembered exactly where you were. 

Underneath a giant mirror. 

The passionate woman staring down at you was nearly unrecognizable. Her body was littered with her lover’s marks. Her hands gripped feverishly into the sheets beneath her—-

And Kim Taehyung was kneeling between her thighs, suckling on her weeping cunt with obscene satisfaction. 

It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your life. 

Your hands reached down to tangle in his hair, using it for leverage as you ground against his face. 

Then suddenly his grip on your legs tightened and his tongue plunged roughly into your trembling core. 

“Tae—ahh oh my—I can’t—”

The sensation was so intense that your hips bucked violently. You could not keep still. You were charging towards an explosion and your body was shaking itself apart. 

The noises tearing from you were incoherent. Everything around you focused in on the juncture of your thighs where Taehyung was licking inside of you again and again until—

You shattered. 

And the force of it nearly bent your back in half. 

Delirious sobs poured from your lips as he worked you through it, letting the obscene flood of your cum soak his face. 

The sight of him slowly lapping at the release between your folds, was unspeakably erotic. He ran his hands in soothing circles over your skin while you twitched and fluttered back down from your high. 

Then he was kissing you again. 

It was softer this time, but you felt truly depraved—and instantly obsessed—with the taste of yourself in his mouth—on his skin.

You could barely understand this ravenous hunger. You’d just found relief, yet you were already reaching for more. 

Your hands snaked down and wrapped around his still covered cock and he hissed in ragged pleasure. 

“So eager,” he gasped, as you pushed him back against the headboard—but you didn’t have time to bother with his teasing.

You were gonna blow Kim Taehyung into space. 

He bit his lip when you yanked down his pants and boxers together, freeing his arousal with stunning efficiency. 

It was almost unfair to discover that his cock was every bit as beautiful as he was.

“Of course,” you muttered. 

The sultry smirk he shot you in return had your cunt flooding all over again.

“You think Min Yoongi has a cock like mine?”

“I don’t think about Min Yoongi’s cock,” you retorted, wrapping your hand around his length, “you’ve always been the biggest dick I’ve ever met.” 

“I knew you thought about my dick,” he groaned as you began to work up and down the swollen shaft. 

After a moment, his hand slid over your chin to grip your hair, drawing you forward till your lips were almost touching. 

“I wonder what this pretty mouth can do,” he whispered. 

You gasped against him and he smiled. 

“Do you know how often I pictured your lips around my cock, Angel?”

You mewled shamelessly and he growled, cupping your cheek as your hands continued to service him. 

“Do you know how often I imagined this perfect throat stuffed full of my cum?” 

His palm slid down to lightly grip the soft flesh of your neck and you shuddered against him with a needy whimper. 

“I know you could suck me so good, Angel. I’ve wanted it for so so long...”

Your mouth actually watered with anticipation. 

The desire to be good for him—to give him whatever he asked for—consumed you. 

Taehyung let his head fall back against the headboard with a groan at the first brush of your lips along his shaft. His hips rutted involuntarily as your tongue wrapped around the tip and you hummed with pleasure at his enthusiastic response. 

After a moment you slid him into the welcoming heat of your mouth, taking him in as far as you could in one stroke. His jaw dropped open and his entire body jerked forward. 

“Yes, that’s it, Angel—feels so good.”

His praise was addictive. 

You loved that you could bring him to this. You loved to see the haughty Kim Taehyung coming apart as you sucked him. 

It made you feel beautiful—powerful even—and you reveled in every second of it. 

Your eyes were starting to tear. His length began to throb and pulse against your tongue and you knew he was close—so close you could almost taste him—

Yet suddenly he was pulling you back and you whined pitifully at the loss. 

Taehyung chuckled, dragging you toward him till your dripping core slid across his cock.

“I’m not coming before I get inside that pretty little pussy,” he swore, working your hips over his sex till it was drenched in arousal. 

The crass words filled you with the fiercest, most incredible want and you clenched reflexively against him in response. 

“Is that what you want?” Taehyung whispered as he bore you back into the mattress, pinning both your wrists above your head. “You want me to fill your empty little cunt?”

You did. 

You wanted it so so bad. 

“Please.”

Taehyung gently lowered himself closer to you, resting his forehead intimately against yours as he lined up his cock at your entrance. 

“Are you sure, Angel? Because there’s no going back after this... If you give yourself to me, then you’re mine—and I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you.”

“Taehyung, you idiot,”—a tender smile spread over your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck—“... I’ve always been yours.”

He swore violently—letting the slight tremble in his voice betray just how deeply your words affected him. 

Then his fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your hip and he filled you to the hilt with one delicious thrust. 

There was a moment—the smallest space in time—where your eyes locked together and everything seemed to suspend; a strange perfect calm before a monumental storm. 

Then your world caught fire. 

Taehyung drove himself into you with passionate fury, letting years of denial fuel the insatiable rhythm of his strokes. 

Every time he told himself no. Every time he held himself back—

Every bit of it burned away as you screamed his name. 

The feel of him was indescribable. 

You imagined it too many times to count, yet your dreams fell pitifully short of the visceral reality. 

He was bloomin’ magnificent. 

Your fingers clawed up and down his back, desperate to hold on to something while he pounded into your g-spot like an animal. 

“This tiny cunt is the tightest thing I’ve ever had around my cock,” he gasped and you whined needily at his praise. “Like it was made for me—” his hand came up to grip your breast, “like you were made for me.”

“Yes—”

Taehyung’s need seemed to amplify with every whimper and moan that fell from your lips. The feelings you sparked in him were fierce and unapologetically primitive.

He would go to war for you—build a fortress for you—fight a dragon if one dared come close. 

You were his. 

And he felt like a savage every time you cried out for more. 

Suddenly an unexpected movement in his periphery caught his attention.

He’d been so consumed with the extraordinary rush of claiming you that he’d forgotten—

This guest room was thirty-five percent mirrors. 

And now… he couldn’t look away. 

The sight of your bodies tangling together in headless bliss played out before him like a scene from his most debauched and forbidden fantasies. His reflection grinned back at him in fascinated ecstasy while his beloved nemesis lost herself in the pleasure of his cock.

Something dark and wild began to burn in his chest as he studied the lovers in the glass. 

“Look at you, Angel,” he whispered softly, “you really are perfect.”

Then he pulled out of your core and you whined bitterly in protest, chasing his body to rid yourself of the sudden unacceptable emptiness. 

“Still so needy,” he taunted, gripping your hips and flipping you on your stomach before you could even think to protest.

“I want you to watch that pretty angel in the mirror come on my cock,” he groaned, plunging back into you from behind. 

The new angle was somehow impossibly deeper and your body shook as another wave of pleasure overtook it. 

Your fingers clawed into the mattress for purchase as he pistoned into your trembling mound. 

Only Kim Taehyung could rail you like a whore while he worshiped you like a queen. 

He gave you a moment to adjust before drawing your body back against his chest. His arm wrapped over your stomach as he slowly eased your legs apart, unfolding the lewd tableau of your bodies joined together for the voyeuristic gaze of the glass.   

“Look at yourself, Angel,” he growled, mesmerized by the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. “Look at how well you're taking me.” 

Then his fingers slid down to rub your clit and you screamed. 

“Tae! Ah-ahh!”

The pleasure building within you now was violent. You were coiling too tightly, too fast—

“That’s right Angel. Take it all.”

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror for the briefest instant.

And then you flew apart. 

Taehyung threw his head back with a carnal moan as you clamped down around him. His body was hurtling toward its own release with reckless speed. 

“I’m close,” he panted, “where can I come?”

“Come inside me please,” you begged, and Taehyung’s eyes widened in frenzied lust. 

“That’s what you want? Huh?” his thrusts became rougher as he chased his relief, “You want me to fill this puffy little pussy with my cum?”

“Yes, I want it so bad—“ you sobbed. 

“Sweet Angel,” he groaned, gripping at your breasts as he pulled you tighter against him. 

Then he met your gaze in the mirror again. 

“I want everything with you; a home—a family—your body in my arms every morning when I wake up—” his voice trembled, “I want it all.” 

The raw vulnerability in his eyes nearly broke you.

“Tae,” you gasped softly, too overcome with joy to manage anything else. 

His mouth pressed hungrily against the curve of your shoulder. You could feel his cock throbbing in your core as he bent you forward, pounding into your sex with exquisite precision. 

"Stay with me, Angel,” he whispered. His thrusts became erratic as he neared his high. “I don’t want to live without you anymore.”

The glorious thrill of his words tore over your senses with euphoric brutality. Your walls tightened greedily around his cock and the taunt cord of pleasure finally snapped. 

He came with a broken groan, flooding the welcoming heat of your womb with his release. 

“KIM TAEHYUNG!”

The sound of his name being shouted by the absolute last person in the world whose voice he wanted to hear woke Taehyung from a dead sleep.  

His eyes widened in panic as he began yanking pillows and covers from all over the bed in a frenzied attempt to hide—

The doors to his bedroom flew open with a resounding crash. 

“Jimin,” he squeaked, trying to look as casual as possible next to a giant pile of bedding. “What uh—what brings you here at—” his eyes darted to the clock on the wall, “—7:30 in the morning?”

Then he frowned. 

“And how the hell did you get past Jungkook?”

Jimin’s murderous expression broke momentarily to allow for a smug grin. 

“Kendra.”

Kendra Jackson was Jimin’s executive aide. She was fierce, capable, intelligent—

And insanely gorgeous. 

Taehyung groaned. 

Poor Jungkookie never stood a chance. 

To the surprise of absolutely no one, yet another newspaper landed on Taehyung’s lap.

KIM HEIR BRINGS NAUGHTY ANGEL HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

Underneath the headline was a picture of you and Taehyung (dressed in clothes you stole from Jin’s childhood bedroom) kissing passionately against the side entrance of the Governor’s mansion. 

One of your legs was wrapped around his waist and he was clearly grabbing your ass. 

“Ah… well you see the camera distorts everything from this angle—and-and the lighting is bad so it’s not really what it looks like—”

“Is that so? Cause it looks like you’ve got your tongue down my baby sister’s throat!”

“Okay—okay,” Taehyung massaged his forehead nervously, “so maybe it’s sort of what it looks like but—”

“I’ll kill you.”

“No wait—” he held up his hands to delay an already advancing Jimin. 

“Why should I wait?!”

“Because—”

“—I trusted you with the most important person in the world to me—”

“The situation is just not that simple.” 

“—and you grabbed her ass in public!”

“Admittedly not my finest hour.”

“So you tell me right now—”

“But you don’t understand it’s—”

“—Why the hell would I wait?!”

“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH HER!”

For a moment there was absolute silence. 

Then your head popped out from the massive pile of bedding. 

“Really?”

Jimin’s mouth fell open. 

Taehyung groaned again. 

“As usual, your timing is impeccable.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment.

“Are you really in love with me?”

“Of course I’m in love with you! What part of I want you to have my children did you not understand?!” 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jimin choked. 

“That’s not the same thing!”

“It is for me!”

A radiant smile lit up your face. 

“I’m in love with you too.”

Taehyung’s expression softened. 

“Angel I—”

Then you were kissing and Jimin swung around with a horrified shout.

“Oh! No no no—Come on!”

He stumbled out of the room, hands firmly clamped over his eyes. 

“This is not over, Kim Taehyung!” the scandalized young Park heir howled in exasperation… but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Back in the bedroom, Taehyung shook his head at Jimin’s ridiculous caterwauling. 

“No, it’s not over,” he laughed, pulling you deeper into the comfort of his arms. “It’s only just begun.”

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. 

This baby took FOR-EVER to write. I started it in November and literally worked on it a little every day. 

If you enjoyed it— even just a tiny bit—please consider taking a moment to leave me some feedback. It is so incredibly uplifting and rewarding to hear reader thoughts and reactions to my work.

I promise to treasure every word like gold. It took a lot to bring this story to life. Your kind words would mean the world to me.

[asexualone]

(pls take the time to read)

Signs I should have known I was aro: Disney edition

I think this topic has been stressed a lot already. But here is my take, anyway.

Of course, romantic love had been, is and will always be one of the main themes in kids' movies. Why, I can never fully understand. I'll explain below how I like other themes more.

Some time ago, I did a post on the kiss/hug scenes in Rapunzel which depicts how much more I value acts of showing love that don't include kissing.

Not only those two. I have a history of hating Disney on-screen smooches. As a kid, I thought, "Well, maybe, I don't like seeing these characters kiss because it's a grownup thing."

Could you blame me? When my parents were in the room and a kissing scene appeared on the screen, they changed the channel. So my toddler brain concluded that the reason I didn't like watching kisses was because I wasn't of age to like it. Or something.

At the time, I had no idea that I was hand-picking my favorite movies by the level of romance they had in. Or lack thereof. And I was a very judgemental kid. Let's go through my original thoughts on some Disney classics.

Snow White — No. Just no. She's a child, fourteen. Marrying an older guy she doesn't even know. After he kisses her corpse. NO.

Cinderella — The age difference is a little better, I guess. So is the age of consent. But they only talked one (1) night and he relied on that slipper to find her instead of asking to meet all women and see for himself. Fairytale logic I guess. I didn't like how she called it love immediately and kissed the prince at least once that same night. Or how they got married immediately.

The Sleeping Beauty — Must I even explain? Aurora didn't even know Philip that much, had only met him once (if you exclude the "dreams"). And yet, he's her true love, the only one who can revive her corpse. Ridiculous. And yes, kissing a comatose body, ew. Also, the arranged marriage trope pisses me off, royalty or not. Aurora was engaged as a newborn baby, come on.

Mulan — Cinematic gold. I didn't know it back then, but the fact that romantic love is such a pushed-aside aspect in this movie gives me life. The songs give me life. Especially when the trio dresses as concubines and "Be a Man" plays in the background. An absolute gem, lmao. The sequel however ruined the story somewhat for me, too much lovey-dovey stuff. I like Mulan more when she's fighting than when she's acting all sappy towards Shang, sorry not sorry.

Peter Pan — Loved it, still do. But I did dislike the mermaids, the image of fangirls who are petty towards other girls. And Pan's brief "relationship" with Tiger Lily was nauseating to me. I couldn't explain it but when Pan blushed at her nose-nuzzling thing, I always pulled a face.

The Princess and the Frog — In my opinion, (remember, always my opinion): Tiana, this hard-working girl who doesn't belong to anyone, was lost to love. Well, not lost. But falling for Naveen in the course of three days? Unrealistic and kinda unnecessary. Sweet, but still. I adored the "relationship" between Ray and Evangeline more. Either way, it's a movie that I enjoyed when love wasn't that prominent on screen.

Aladdin — I love this movie because of the Genie. The relationship between Jasmine and Aladdin is meh. She forgot his face and didn't recognize him until later. Their coming together is a lot like that trope "first guy who treats her right sets the expectations and wins her heart". Usually that's a thing, not only in Disney movies but media in general. The female lead settles for the first guy that treats her right because the bar is that low. A good movie, all in all. Love how Jasmine stands up for herself at least. Not a lot of princesses fight against the objectification of women.

Pocahontas — I used to hate this movie. I didn't sit right with me: the racism in it, the manipulation, the murders. And the romance, yes. Pocahontas fell for the strange man who tickled her curiosity in the span of two days. I also hated how her father just sold her to marry Kocoum like that. I know it's tradition. Heck, that's a tradition that still goes on in my country. Maybe that's why I didn't like seeing it on screen. And Pocahontas doesn't even end up with John Smith. The second movie definitely ruined the story. So yes, she's the first princess who fell for a man in three days, TWICE. Needless to say, only the songs kept me from blacklisting the movie entirely.

The Little Mermaid — I actually loved this movie for some reason. I can't explain why, maybe it was my obsession with mermaids. Yeah, that was probably it. But I was pissed when Ariel exchanged her tail for legs. Not to mention human periods and overall, all the bad in the world, for a man she'd only seen once. As I grew up I realized just how f*cked up that story was: Ariel giving her entire lifestyle, family and identity up for a guy she hadn't even spoken to. I don't know why I loved that movie, alright? Hell I still do a little. The sequel too. Say what you want.

Brave — (I know this is technically Pixar, shut up) Much like the paradox with Ariel, I didn't like this movie. I can't explain it. Maybe because Merida wasn't the typical Disney princess I had been used to seeing. Now though, I ADORE that story. No, it's not because Merida knows archery... Okay, yes maybe a little. I love the aro-arrow word play, alright? Anyway, the way Merida fights against being shipped to a husband like the "tradition" I aforementioned asks her to, has always had my heart, even when I didn't like the movie. The focus on the mother-daughter relationship is special, I love it. Stellar movie.

Tangled — One of my favorite Disney movies, my favorite princess. But her relationship with Eugene.... Well. Again, three days. That's all it takes to fall in love. Classic of Disney. Not only that, but Eugene is literally the first man person Raps has ever since, besides Gothel. The bar is nonexistent for her, she would have fallen for anyone. He lied to her and she still... Well, I won't stress that any longer. Their relationship in the end is sweet, one of the few cases where we are actually shown that they would risk their lives to save each other. Respect that. Mostly, I love her magical hair and Pascal. And the guys of Snuggly Duckling.

Moana — EPIC MOVIE. The story, the culture, the character growth, the plot twist, everything! Loved it at first sight, at second and forever. Even more when I became aware that there's no romance in it. I don't think I need to say more.

Frozen — My opinions on this movie have always been changing, accompanied by mixed feelings. So the relationship between sisters was cute, but Lilo and Stitch made that more realistic. Anna's relationship with Hans, ugh. I think that for a long time I used the fact that he was the antagonist to justify my absolute hate for the way Anna "fell" for him in one evening. Again, Anna sweetheart. This is the first man you've met. The bar is nonexistent for you too. God bless Elsa for forbidding her to marry Hans. And while it's cute to think Elsa as a lesbian, she has aromantic vibes. Sorry not sorry, but she's also a God by the end of Frozen 2. Gods are beyond attraction, I said what I said.

Raya and the Last Dragon — Loved it, still do. Say what you will about "dragon Elsa". Sisu is her own character, and I adore her. And yes, I love the lack of romance in the movie. Make no mistake, I shipped Raya and Namaari from the first moment they smiled at each other. I swear on my name that I paused the movie and screamed, GAYYYY, at the top of my lungs. Luckily, I was home alone. If only Disney directors would do the right fcking thing and give me a queer main couple!! I swear I wouldn't mind the lovey-dovey romance one bit.

Of course, I've left dozens of movies out. This post is already way longer than I wanted it to be. But I think that was enough to make a point.

While I'm not romance-repulsed, seeing animated kisses (and unnecessary relationships) on screen makes me uncomfortable. As a child and as a grownup. It just doesn't sit right with me. Not to mention all these princesses who identify with their princes and specifically their relationships with said princes when they're perfect on their. Wreck it Ralph 2 made them a favor, I think, by making them work together and showing their strengths. Another movie I love.

Friendship just makes an overall better theme to apply to kids shows, my opinion. Family, work, self-discovery, mental health, happiness. These are all better themes to portray in media dedicated for children. Which is, again, my opinion.

And yes, Disney has been getting better. They've fixed the age difference and the age of consent. The female characters no longer depend on the male ones, at least not as often. They understand the assignment, alright. There are still many questionable things about Disney's reputation though, things we all choose to overlook for the sake of the good movies. But who knows? They might change. Hopefully soon we'll also have an obviously queer couple in a movie. Hope dies last.

[lucy-ghoul]

Mikasa Ackermann, Levi Ackermann, Amane Misa, Aeron Greyjoy for the charactet ask :3

SOMEONE HEARD MY PRAYERS AND NOW MY TIME HAS COME, tysm!!!!! <3

okay, let's start with levi (my beloved):

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life (THEE little feral anime man after my heart)

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang (Dark, Tall and Snarky + piercing grey-blue eyes and chronic insomnia? clearly my type ❤)

hogwarts house: gryffindor (maybe....?) | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

ugh, the hp sorting house system is way too reductive. he has qualities of gryffindor, slytherin, and hufflepuff - brave, astute, loyal to a fault, etc. so it's a hard choice. but if i really have to choose, i'd go for gryffindor. i know that his Bad Boy facade shouts slytherin, but while he has larger goals (killing all the titans, then saving the world etc.), he's got no actual ambition for himself. hufflepuff would also be a good option.

daemon (from the his dark materials series): (because i've just decided that's just way more accurate than the hp method) some kind of big feline. maybe a panther - a black panther would be the ideal - aloof, predatory, dangerous, fiercely independent.

best quality: besides his obvious strenghts as a leader and warrior, the way he cares for his comrades-in-arms. it's very hard to gain his trust and respect, but once you have it, it's forever. he's pragmatic and ruthless, yes, but he also has a huge capacity for compassion and friendship. not that he would be effusive about his affections, of course.

worst quality: none, he's absolutely perfect ❤ jklsdfhjk jokes aside, he really struggles to open up (a serious understatement), idt he ever talked about his traumatic past with anyone. i mean, maybe he mentioned it to hange and erwin (erwin knew him when he was still an undergound thug, so...), but... he's not great with feelings. despite his apathetic, intimidating mask, he feels and cares deeply, but he has a long history with losing the people he loves, so he tries to not personally care about his squadmates, which can be both a strenght and a weakness. of course, he spectacularly fails at this.

ship them with: well, it's not a secret that i'm a huge rivamika fan, this ship is almost literally consuming my waking thoughts lmao. imo they're perfectly compatible: very similar personalities (stoic, the strongest warriors, absolutely terrifying on the battlefield but with a soft underbelly), very similar pasts/experiences, so many parallels that it's actually ridiculous, etc. i love how they're both each other's equals and likeness (yes, i took it from jane eyre. no, i don't regret anything lmao). a lot of tropes i love, too: Terrible First Impression (the Pride and Prejudice vibes are so strong with these two, you have no idea), Kindred Spirits/Mirror Images, Veteran/Young Prodigy, The Last of Their Kind, even Height Difference lmao. i could write a whole rivamika manifesto, but this is already too long. (maybe for some other time 👀) i would've loved for their dynamic to be more explored in canon but alas, isayama clearly didn't give a shit about the ackerman legacy, he just used it as a plot shortcut to give them conveniently unique powers, since they never really talked about it 🙄 (and before some troll comes into my askbox shouting "you iNcEsT fReAk!!!!1!!", they're only very distantly related. we know shit about the ackermans but we know for sure that they've got at least several generations between them. biologically their shared DNA is 0%, obviously they don't see each other as family, all the eldians have a dead ass common ancestor from 2000 years ago so they're all basically ⁓related anyway. if you really wanna scream about i.ncest, go watch got/dark/the borgias and shut the fuck up please. or alternatively go outside and touch some grass) sorry for the rant, uh. anyway, i can also see levi/erwin. idk if i'd ever care enough to read a fic about them (i'm usually a huge multishipper, but for some weird reason not when it comes to rivamika? same with braime and kastle tbh), but still, i can see it.

brotp them with: hange and erwin, obv. veteran trio >>> ema trio, sorry not sorry (at least h. and e. died before yams had the chance to ruin their character arcs)

needs to stay away from: ...uh, filth, i guess? lmao

misc. thoughts: besides the stupid teenage fangirl crush i have on him, i'm genuinely fascinated by the man himself. he's a huge mess of a contradictions, and yet somehow it works: he's violent and brash and kind of an asshole, but also has a strong moral code and integrity; he's obv very skilled at all the killing/torturing stuff and yet he has a huge respect for life; he's got a potty mouth to say the least, and yet some very aristocratic manners/tastes (the way he sits, his preference for tea and usually refined clothes); he comes from what's supposed to be an illustrous bloodline, he's methodical and very precise, and yet he was born and raised in the underground, he's been used to filth and blood and poverty since he was a child, kenny of all people was his father figure, and probably has known no other life than a perennial survival mode existence. he's "humanity's strongest soldier", but while well-built he's also small, the david to the titans' goliah, and probably not what people would assume a born warrior looks like. he's also one of the few characters who stayed true to himself and his original characterization until the end, bless you smol king ❤

(okay, this is getting long!)

mikasa:

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them (so much. she deserved better ❤️) | actual love of my life 

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! (stunning lady ❤) | 10/10 would bang

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

this is actually easy: mikasa belongs to hufflepuff and no, i won't take criticism (just joking lol). enough with this "hufflepuffs are fluffy puppies/Cinnamon Rolls <3" thing: mikasa values loyalty and duty more than anything else. she's also hardworking... and fierce, strong, lethal. yes, hufflepuff and lethal are not mutually exclusive concepts.

daemon: (finally the better option) a she-wolf, fiercely protective of her pack.

best quality: loyal, brave, incredibly strong (alongside her more fragile qualities). practical and level-headed on the battlefield, at least when eren is not included in the picture.

worst quality: struggles to let go of the past (understandable, considering her trauma). tunnel-vision when it comes to eren, obv. extreme levels of delusions ("if only i spoke openly about my romantic feelings for him - as if i didn't made them abundantly clear in ⁓6 years - he wouldn't kill 80% of humanity :(((" lmao okay. just. okay), but that's more on the writing. she's sadly more static than any other main character throughtout the whole series.

ship them with: see above :) but recently i've also started to be intrigued by mikasa/annie and mikasa/sasha. also, i'm sympathetic to jeankasa fans, though i don't actually care for the ship.

brotp them with: EMA trio, especially armin+mikasa. their friendship is so beautiful and special. also sasha.

needs to stay away from: ...... eren, at least romantically. again, that's more on the writing than anything else, but e.remika unfortunately encompasses many tropes i loathe with all the strength of my old shriveled heart: childhood friends-to lovers where the (male) childhood friend doesn't acknolewdge/is completely indifferent to the other (female) friend's romantic feelings, she hopelessly pines for him for years without anything more than a cold shoulder... until in the last chapter it's revealed that he loved her all along and doesn't "want other men to have her!!! :((" (then why did you have no reaction whatsoever to jean's years-long crush on her while she was jealous of any vaguely female-shaped human being you were friendly to, including hange? are you that dumb, man?); the female character's development and entire arc 100% revolves around the male protagonist - she has no goals, no dreams of her own except staying with him forever and ever; the romance is based on an idealized childhood dream, therefore reaffirming those childish illusions would make the character regress, not actually grow up (and nope, epilogue!jk doesn’t count; that also lacks build-up - i would’ve said the same about rm as well, so it’s not about shipping, guys, it really isn’t - and mikasa needed an inner change; getting married to another man but still praying to eren’s shrine is not substitute to actual development lol). post-time skip she's never really frustrated/angry with him, they never get a confrontation about him becoming a, y'know, mass-murderer of gigantic (pun intended) proportions; she puts him on a pedestal, and never stops idealizing him/never sees him for what he actually is (the narrative framing him as some kind of tragic martyr/saint eren from paradis with zero agency and basically... no clear motivation for the abovementioned mass murder, and not the actual complex tragic anti-hero/villain motivated by revenge and righteous fury he deserved to be, does not help). it lacks a good or even decent build-up - it's basically all tell and not show. now, if they'd actually been childhood friends to enemies to lovers/mutually co-dependent... it could have been interesting. sadly, it's not my cup of tea. of course this is just my personal preference, no hard feelings to the shippers.

misc. thoughts: enormous potential. she's been my fav female character since s1 - and ah, i miss s1!mikasa, when she had actually other stuff to do besides mothering eren. i love that she's the strongest warrior (second only to levi, obv), that her skills are never called into questions despite her gender, i love how she stands up for herself and the people she loves, that she may seem cold and stoic and yet has a such a huge heart, that she's not perfect but also sometimes awe-inspiring. sadly, she never really gets out of eren's shadow; what she lacks is an arc focused on herself. that's why imo getting deeper into the ackerman lore would've helped (also, you cannot make the main female character and the most popular male character descend from the same Unique Bloodline or whatever, and never really make them acknowledge it out loud; as a writer, you just can't lol). my spite is so strong that i'm currently writing a ridiculously pretentious fic that's 70% development for her character, to give her a voice, and 30% ackerthirsting. (yes, that's the fic i'm always vagueblogging about lmao, rip @ my brain). if any other rivamika fan is interested… mind you, it’s in italian tho, and idt i have the skills to translate into english.

misa:

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life 

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

daemon: mmh, maybe some kind of butterfly? beautiful, colorful, and short-lived.

best quality: glorious fashion sense, more inventive and ingenious than fans actually give her credit for.

worst quality: shallow, impulsive, and obv her dependence on/obsession with light (which stems from trauma btw, but still… the very opposite of a relationship between equals).

ship them with: rem, kinda (monster/human ftw!). also weirdly enough mogi, a little bit? she deserves someone who actually respects her… though she’s far from being a perfect angel. she may actually be crazier than light on some aspects. but in this house we stan evil ladies anyway, so i have no problem with that <3

brotp them with: uh, idk, maybe matsuda?

needs to stay away from: obv light. also takada.

misc. thoughts: a tragic victim of sexist writing. she may be… unhinged to say the least, but she didn’t deserve the abuse she got from light (and from the fans). the female characters’ writing in dn is so bad that idk if it’s on purpose, to kinda mirror the reality of women in a patriarchal society (dependent on men, housewives whose life entirely revolves around their husband/boyfriend etc.), or just casual misogyny lol. it’s even more baffling since we don’t know the author’s gender (they may be a man, a woman, nb, anything really). i tend for the latter option tho.

aegon greyjoy (now, i wasn’t expecting him lol):

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life 

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

i’m so sorry, i haven’t the slightest idea lmao. maybe gryffindor? mind you, it’s been a long time since i’ve re-read the books, so i don’t have many thoughts about him.

daemon: maybe it’s cliché, but some kind of fish/squid lmao

best quality: ugh, i really can’t remember much from his chapters :(( he’s not a coward, i guess? (lame answer, sorry!)

worst quality: definitely his religious fanaticism.

ship them with: no one.

brotp them with: uh… his family, ig? except euron.

needs to stay away from: obv euron. brr ://

misc. thoughts: i genuinely like the greyjoys chapters, though i vastly prefer the martells (with the exception of theon and asha, bcs i love them). yes, they’re deranged. yes, victarion is… well, victarion lol. but the drowned god religion is actually interesting, grrm knows how to write trauma - every time aeron mentions euron and that freaking door i’m like… :// - and the tragedy of it all… just great writing all around.

okay, that’s the end lmao. thank you so much, love!!! ❤❤

[stahlop]

Romancing the Throne

@mariakov81 this is a late birthday present for you. I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you @profdanglaisstuff for being my beta!

This also fits my Trope Card Challenge for Star-Crossed Lovers

On Ao3

Summary: Princess Emma has run off with the notorious Captain Killian Jones, who also happens to be the brother of her father's deceased best friend.

Dearest Mother and Father,

I’m sure you are beside yourself at the thought that I may have been taken or kidnapped, but let me put your fears at rest. I am fine and have left of my own accord. I have fallen in love, and I’m sorry to have to break it to you this way, through a letter, but I wasn’t sure how else to do it. Especially, because I know, Father, that you will not be happy with my choice. I have listened to you and mother tell me your love story so many times and it is something I have always dreamed of. Unfortunately, simpering princes and other highly esteemed men who only have the crown on their mind just don’t make for a great love story. I deserve better than that. I deserve a man who sees me for me and not as a chess piece.

So, with that said, if you want to send a bird to contact me, I am aboard the Jolly Roger with Captain Killian Jones. I know what you’re thinking, that a pirate could never love a princess for more than her wealth. That I’m just being naive in what Killian really wants from me. But I’m not. He loves me and I love him and we want to be together. I’m sorry that I had to run away to prove it, but it was the only thing I could think of to do, what with you about to announce a betrothal to Count Baelfire without even consulting me (yes, I knew about that).

I love you both and I hope you can be happy for me having found my true love.

Love,

Your Daughter Emma

“What the hell is this?” King David bellows holding up the letter his wife handed him that morning along with some pastries for breakfast. They were enjoying a lazy day; dining in the lounge area of their suite instead of the formal dining room, when Snow dropped the letter in his lap.

“It seems our daughter,” Snow says, taking a bite of a delicious almond poppy danish, “has run off with the man she loves.” She says as though this was just an ordinary, everyday occurrence, that their daughter, the heir to the throne, would just run off with a pirate.

David stares at his wife, her black hair down around her shoulders; not a single strand of gray runs through it yet, unlike at his own temples. It almost reaches the bottom of her breasts. As the queen, she usually wears it up. It was only in these private moments at the beginning and the end of the day that he gets to see the woman he fell in love with all those years ago. She takes another bite of her breakfast, her red lips smiling slightly as they close over the sticky poppy seed paste in the pastry.

“What do you know?” David demands. Snow rolls her eyes. She knows how her husband gets when surprised by information, especially when that information is about his beloved daughter. “How did Emma end up with Liam’s brother?” His eyes reflect the hurt he still feels over Liam’s untimely, and unnecessary, death.

David and Liam were friends before he and Snow met. Before Killian was even born. David’s mother, Ruth, often traded lamb and mutton for fish with Liam’s father, Brennan. When Liam’s mother died while giving birth to Killian, Ruth took the boys in for a while until Brennan could get back on his feet. Having been an only child for his first 14 years (not knowing about his twin brother, James, until a few years later), having an eight-year-old and a newborn underfoot was quite a transition. But they made it work. When Brennan finally settled down in their village, having finally given himself time to grieve for his late wife,  David and Liam were thick as thieves, despite their six year age difference.

It was only two years later, at the age of 19, that David was contacted by King George to pretend to be James, who had died tragically, and David was set on his path to meet Snow and eventually become king.

After they stopped Snow’s evil stepmother from trying to take over the kingdom (the woman was convinced that Snow had ruined her life by scaring off her true love and had actually made her eat an apple laced with a sleeping potion; luckily, he and Snow shared True Love, and his kiss defeated not only the sleeping curse, but stripped her stepmother of all powers she had required, don’t ask him how that worked), David went to Brennan to invite his family to come live at their castle. Brennan was grateful and Liam and Killian were ecstatic, though, Brennan refused to accept ‘charity’ and left to continue selling fish and other seaside wares, while David had the boys tutored now that they were fifteen and seven. And while they missed their father, they knew they were being given the opportunity of a lifetime.

Meanwhile, Snow had fallen pregnant quickly after their official nuptials, and the next few years were focused on raising his daughter and getting the kingdoms back in order (they absorbed King George’s kingdom into Snow’s once they were married and George died).

Liam and Killian relished their lessons, they took up sword fighting, learned to ride horses, and Snow even insisted on making sure they could dance properly for the balls that she threw. At the first dance she was allowed to attend, five-year-old Emma made thirteen-year-old Killian dance with her, Liam and David laughing the whole time at Killian’s ears turning bright red.

Once they were old enough, they joined the kingdom’s navy. David had never been a prouder king and friend than when he finally got to promote Liam to Captain and Killian to Lieutenant. And he never thought lending out his two top officers to a neighboring kingdom for an exchange program meant to foster unity would result in the tragic loss of Liam’s life.

Killian came and told him himself. David barely recognized him. He looked much older than his 20 years, which was ridiculous because when he’d seen him right before they’d left on the mission he’d thought he’d looked so young still. Now there was a hardened man in front of him, grieving over his brother. The king had sent them on, what was supposed to be, a very simple mission to retrieve a supposed healing plant. Except the Dreamshade was actually a poison, and it killed Liam. With tears in his eyes, Killian continued to tell David how he had turned pirate in retaliation, and while he would never attack any ships in the kingdom he had once called home, he couldn’t guarantee safety for any other kingdom, especially the one that killed his brother. And while he knew becoming a pirate made him a wanted man, would David find it in his heart to look the other way as he went after the king of that neighboring kingdom?

While he didn’t agree to his plan to kill the king, David didn’t disagree with him either. And between Snow’s perfectly placed pieces of gossip and Captain Killian Jones’ attacks from the newly christened Jolly Roger the king was ousted and then mysteriously disappeared. Killian sometimes came by the castle to see David and have some connection to Liam again. Eventually, Captain Killian Jones' reputation became too great for King David to associate with, and it was with great sadness that they had to part ways. But Killian was still too angry to do something as respectable as working for a kingdom, and David couldn’t cavort with a pirate, regardless of their history.

And now, here he was with a letter in his hand stating that his daughter had apparently been cavorting with a pirate right underneath his nose.

“Explain!” David demands. Snow huffs and drops the pastry onto her plate and thoroughly wipes her hands on the napkin placed in her lap.

“They met two years ago, at Emma’s 18th birthday ball.” Snow says matter-of-factly.

“Two years ago?” David sputters. How can his daughter and his best friend’s brother have been together for two years and he not know about it?

“It was the Masquerade Ball. It was the perfect way for him to come in disguise without anyone recognizing him. And apparently it worked, because you didn’t even know he was there,” Snow says chuckling a little at this. David is not amused.

“Why was he at the ball in the first place?” David says, exasperated at the way Snow is dragging out this story.

“I invited him, of course.” She takes a sip of her tea as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. David stares at her as she sets her tea cup down and starts smoothing her night garment down under her robes.

“What is happening here?” he yells. “Snow, I need you to explain why my daughter, the princess, heir to the throne, has run off with the most feared pirate, Captain Killian Jones, and why you willingly invited him to a ball? How did you even contact him?” David thinks he now knows what going crazy must feel like. He thought Emma fleeing in the night with a pirate was bad enough, but Snow is in on this as well?

Snow gives a little huff as she pushes away from the breakfast table. She walks into her dressing room and sits at her vanity and starts to brush out her hair.

“Snow!” David says, incensed, and stomps in to join her.

Snow turns to him, brush in hand, “David!” she says in the exact same tone. He holds her gaze until she finally breaks. David knows Snow can’t keep a secret, although it seems she’s been holding onto this one for quite some time.

“Fine.” Snow huffs again and turns back toward the mirrored glass refusing to look directly at David, but does meet his eyes through the mirror. “I invited him because I knew you missed him, and Liam. I thought you could use your friend again. He keeps port in Arendelle during the colder months, according to Elsa, so I sent a bird with the invite, and he happened to be there. That’s why I wanted it to be a masquerade ball, so he could come in undetected and you two could resume your friendship. And also, because I’d heard through the grapevine that he hadn’t really ‘pirated’ in awhile.”

“But I never saw him.” David says, stating the obvious.

“No, he ran into Emma instead. Do you really not remember her dancing with the same man almost the entire ball? I even commented on it once or twice.” David tries to remember the ball. Snow throws many balls throughout the year and they tend to all blend together. But he does remember how beautiful Emma looked in her red ball gown, her hair up in a loose bun, and a tiara topping it all off. She’d not been happy about the tiara, she was very much his daughter, always wanting to sword fight and horseback ride as opposed to learning how to host dinner parties and plan balls with her mother. He vaguely recalls wondering who the stranger she was dancing with was, and thinking he looked familiar (but impossible to tell with a mask on), before being whisked away by Lancelot about some problem at the gates.

“And what? They fell in love at first sight?” David asks, still not believing this whole situation has been happening right under his nose. Snow starts to giggle at that.

“Oh, no, once she found out that he was not only a pirate but the boy who had grown up in the castle when she was younger, she completely rebuffed him. She practically had a tantrum at the end of the ball, although, out in a secluded hall where they had privacy.” Snow says smiling and knowing what her husband is going to say next.

“She was in a secluded hall with him?” David says, raising his voice again.

“Don’t worry,” a voice says from behind him, “I could hear them the whole time. I can always hear them” David turns to see Red, Snow’s closest friend and confidante, also Emma’s godmother, and also a werewolf, who has excellent hearing even as a human. She’s also the only person in the castle who doesn’t get reprimanded for coming into their private chambers unannounced. She is already dressed for the day, her lips done up in bright red lipstick and her curled hair down. While Snow did honor her with the title of a Lady, Red has never acted nor dressed like one. “Do you really think Emma could have a secret romance without me knowing about it?” Red almost looks insulted.

“So, how did they go from Emma rebuffing him, to her running away with him?” Why it is taking Snow so long to get to the part of the story he’s most interested in is beyond David. She’s usually pretty direct, but now it seems she is trying to torture him. Maybe she is.

“He kissed her.” Red says, stretching out on the chaise. “That same night. She walked away saying it could never work, they were too different, blah, blah, blah, and he went after her and kissed her. And it must have been one hell of a kiss, because he came back two weeks later, and then two weeks after that, and so forth.” Red’s smile was a devious one.

“Wait. You mean to tell me Killian has been sneaking into the castle for two years, and no one thought to tell me?” David is at the end of his rope. “I need to sit down.” He collapses onto the other end of the chaise.

“Well, look how you’re reacting David.” Snow admonishes him. “And then you went about trying to find her a husband. I mean, Baelfire, really? Do you know your daughter at all?”

David thought he had. She’d been attached to his hip from the beginning. Always calming much more easily for him than for Snow. He knew Baelfire wasn’t the best, but she’d shown no interest in any prince or nobleman since she’d become of marriageable age. Of course, now he knew why.

“You went along with the Baelfire thing!” David says to Snow. Red has started getting her ready for the day, even though Snow has dressers to do that. She’s always preferred Red’s company over hired help, ever since Red had taken her in when Snow was on the run from her stepmother.

“I knew Emma would find out about it. I was trying to get her to come clean to us about Killian. I didn’t think she’d run away with him! Away from us!” Tears form at the corners of her eyes, and David goes over to comfort his half-dressed wife. He realizes that she is just as upset about this as he is, only she already knew Emma was in love. Even if Emma hadn’t told her, she already knew and all she had wanted was to have Emma painted into a corner enough to tell her parents the truth.

They stand there for a moment, David’s arms encircling his wife, memories of their younger days when they were living in the forest on the run, having adventures that they were not quite prepared for bubbling in his mind. Emma is older than he and Snow were when they met. She’s barely been off the castle grounds, even though she’s yearned for adventure since she could walk. How many times had they found her so high up in the trees that they could barely see her? How many times had she snuck out horses to go riding in the middle of the night? How many times had she expressed her sheer and utter boredom of living a life most would dream of? They sheltered her too much, David now realizes. They were so worried about giving her the life they’d been denied at one point, that they never thought about the life she wanted to live. And that had led her to a clandestine relationship with a pirate (albeit, old family friend) right under their (his) noses.

“You said that Killian originally came to the ball because he was tired of being a pirate?” David asks, remembering how he glossed over that snippet of information earlier.

Snow breaks their embrace to look at him. “Well, the name Killian Jones hasn’t been mentioned as much recently. I think he’s lost his taste for it.” She frowns slightly. “I’m almost positive he was going to ask you if he could work for you as a privateer.”

David frowns along with her. “So why didn’t he?” He wonders.

“Because of Emma.” Red says breaking up the private moment. “He knew she yearned for adventure, and keeping up the pirate persona was exactly what Emma wanted from him, despite his reluctance to keep it up. Plus, once she asks you to forgive him for being a pirate and making him a privateer, then it all looks like she reformed him.”  Snow and David give Red a befuddled look, wondering how she knows all this. She laughs. “Just because Emma didn’t confide in you two doesn’t mean she didn’t confide in someone. She knew Killian sneaking in wouldn’t get past my hearing.” Red shrugs.

“Fine!” David says, throwing his hands up as if he’s just been bested. “Snow, send a bird!”

Our Dearest Emma,

Despite what you may believe, your father and I are thrilled that you have found love. We are only sorry that you felt the need to run away with your pirate captain instead of coming to us about it.  We really hope that you will come home so we can discuss this as a family.

Love,

Your Parents

“They don’t seem mad, love” Killian says, kissing her on the temple. Sometimes he still can’t believe that this beauty by his side chose him. She is dressed in simple blue leather pants and vest over a plain white tunic. Her long blonde hair, which he’s only ever seen down (with the exception of the first night they met), is now up in a messy ponytail with braids throughout to keep the sea wind from making it a tangled mess. He blesses the gods every night that Queen Snow invited him to that ball.

“I don’t know.” Emma says. “This doesn’t seem too easy for you? I run away with a notorious pirate and they’re just okay with it?”

Killian tugs on her shoulder to face him, her eyes still lost in the short letter her parents sent. She is, understandably, confused. It’s adorable.

“You forget, my love, that I knew your father before I turned pirate. In fact, you’re the same age I was when Liam died and I went rogue. He knows I would never let any harm come to you.”

“Please don’t ever mention that you and my father used to be friends. It’s weird.” Emma makes a disgusted face and Killian laughs at her while leaning into her to softly kiss her lips.

“And,” he says slowly kissing along her jawbone, “you know I haven’t been ‘notorious’” (he growls that into her ear making her shiver) “since we met.” He pulls away from her. She stares at him, her face showing dissatisfaction at the fact that he stopped what he was doing. Killian gives her the most serious face he can muster when she’s looking so put out, and absentmindedly scratches the back of his neck. “You know I want to do right by you, Emma. This was the plan all along. Make your parents panic a little and then let them think they’ve worked out the solution for us to live happily ever after.”

Emma looks into his eyes, the ones she always compares to the blue of the ocean, the ones that she loves to stare into while they make love, and the ones she loves seeing first thing in the morning, usually before he would kiss her passionately on the lips and then sneak out before anyone in the castle knew anything was amiss. She worries her lower lip between her teeth, and slowly nods her head in agreement.

“Yes. You’re right, Killian. I…, I guess I just hoped we’d get a little more adventure before we had to go back and start palace life.” Killian smiles at her.

“Well, no one says we have to send a letter back to your parents right away. I think we could spare an extra two days before responding back, don’t you think?” Killian says, waggling his eyebrows.

“You think you’re all sexy when you do that, and I’ll just fall into your arms and do whatever you say, hmm?” Emma says getting face to face with him. Killian lifts just one eyebrow in response.

“Well, I prefer dashing rapscallion, but sexy works as well. And you do whatever I say because you love me, and you want to spend more time with me before heading home to your parents.” He smirks because he knows he’s right. Emma tries to make it seem like she’s going to disagree, but she can’t resist him for long. She grabs the lapels of his leather duster and pulls him in for a searing kiss before they head back down to his quarters to hammer out what they should write back to her parents, and other more enjoyable activities.

They arrive back at Misthaven a week later, and even though Emma has only been gone a total of two weeks, David notices how much older she seems. And how happy she looks. There is nothing in the realm that would make him want to take that smile from her face. David also sees a sense of calm and peace in Killian. Sure, Killian looks apprehensive when the Jolly Roger is met by the King and Queen themselves, but he relaxes immediately when David thrusts his hand out to shake Killian’s in acceptance. They have many details to work out, but in the end, David couldn’t have honored Liam’s memory more than to make Killian part of his family. Maybe someday David will tell them how at that first dance that five-year-old Emma attended, and thirteen-year-old Killian danced embarrassingly with her, that he and Liam joked about them marrying some day. It’s too bad Liam didn’t live to see the joke become a reality.

@profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @mariakov81 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @kmomof4​ @superchocovian​ @lfh1226-linda​ @ilovemesomekillianjones

[truegodofthearena]

Bridgerton! Plus one other fandom of your choice!

My answers are based on the Netflix show only, not the books. 

Top 5 favourite characters: Anthony, Siena, Daphne, Eloise, Lady Danbury Other characters you like: Marina, Benedict, Simon, Penelope, The Prince, Sir Philip  Least favourite characters: Violet, Nigel, Mr Featherington Otps: Anthony/Siena  Notps: Siena/unhappiness Favourite friendships: Eloise/Penelope Favourite family: Siena/Geneviève (yes, they count as a family). I’m very divided on the Bridgerton family so far, I liked some dynamics but not all.   Favourite episodes: An affair of honor, After the rain  Favourite season/book/movie: only 1 season so far :D Favourite quotes: Umm, every time Anthony earnestly says “Siena” - does that count? Best musical moment: Siena singing in that pale dress with tears in her eyes Moment that made you fangirl/boy the hardest: I think its either the scene where Anthony decides to spend his last night before the duel with Siena and his pleas to her, where she’s really conflicted, but then gives in to her feelings. OR that scene between Daphne and Simon where they’re talking about his mother’s favorite painting and how it reminds her of the countryside. I found that scene very touching and tender.  When it really disappointed you: Penelope ruining Marina by exposing her.  Saddest moment: Anthony and Siena’s break up, for sure. Also when Daphne gets her period during the concert and breaks down.  Most well done character death: Uh, Simon’s dad. Simon’s last words to him were just *chef’s kiss* - its what he deserved to hear after how he treated Simon Favourite guest star: the Prince - want a decent cinnamon roll  Favourite cast member: I haven’t really seen any interviews to form an opinion. But I guess Jonathan Bailey seems fun from the gifs I have seen of him behind the scenes ?  Character you wish was still alive: Simon’s mom  One thing you hope really happens: Anthony and Siena find their way back to each other despite the rules of society forcing them apart? One can dream lol. I’m sorry they have such amazing chemistry, its the endgame we deserve :D Most shocking twist: Penelope revealing the truth about Marina to the world. Still not over that.  When did you start watching/reading? Few weeks back Best animal/creature: i don’t remember seeing any?  Favourite location: Siena’s room because that’s where Santhony get to be themselves and leave the troubles of the world behind. It’s their HAPPY place.  Trope you wish they would stop using: Forced romances. The whole idea of marriage being the only choice because you were caught in an embrace or whatever is so ridiculous. Let the people marry those they love ffs. Also introduce more options for the elite women other than marriage?  One thing this show/book/film does better than others: Representation and costumes  Funniest moments: The stove scene and Daphne’s snorting laughs at the Prince Couple you would like to see: Anthony/Siena - can’t get enough obviously  Actor/Actress you want to join the cast: Keira Knightley :D Favourite outfit: almost all of them - hard to pick  Favourite item: i loved the jewelry the women were wearing in the show  Do you own anything related to this show/book/film?: Netflix subscription? lol  What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race etc would you be in?: Would follow Siena and her talented butt anywhere  Most boring plotline: The financial crisis of the Featheringtons?  Most laughably bad moment: anytime Violet decided to set Anthony up lol - she needed a new set of eyes and perspective  Best flashback/flashfoward if any: Simon’s backstory  Most layered character: Anthony, he screwed up most of all, but he tried to made amends and grew throughout the season, so I enjoyed seeing that evolution.  Most one dimensional character: Violet - she just wants her kids to marry and have babies, even at the cost of their own happiness.  Scariest moment: When i didn’t know what the hell Marina was going to do after the reveal. Oh and that moment where they made it look like she was dead Grossest moment: Violet pushing ladies in front of Anthony as he’s looking at Siena, and she’s right fucking there? Also, Simon prioritizing his hatred for his very much dead dad over his love for Daphne. Couldn’t buy that and it was disappointing.  Best looking male: Anthony Best looking female: Siena, Marina, Cressida Who you’re crushing on (if any): Santhony  Favourite cast moment: no idea, haven’t seen enough of the cast stuff Favourite transportation: horseback, what’s a period drama without that Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): Anthony and Siena’s last bedroom scene where they’re happy and laughing, dancing and so in love.  Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you: well i ship santhony so you tell me lol. I feel the way this relationship was set up, its hard to top that, if you want the audience to root anthony with someone else next season? We shall have to see.  Best promo: For me, they were the santhony gifs on tumblr that made me start the show in the first place. Thanks to @sienarosso At what point did you fall in love with this show/book: I think after he broke up with Siena, all the times Anthony felt that angst? lol. I was like A++++ material, its what i’m here for. Also, the costumes and sets really sold the show to me. Even if the story is not appealing at times, the visual aspect of the show is so pretty, you just want to watch it. 

@therubbleoroursins thanks for asking ! omg this got so long, i’m afraid i’ll only do this one for now and maybe another show later. Will tag you :)

[three--rings]

Queerbaiting’s effect on Yuri on Ice

There is apparently discourse happening SOMEWHERE in YOI fandom at the moment on the topic of "are Yuuri and Victor really a couple" (again), which is laughably ridiculous.  I'm not going to sit here and make an argument proving their relationship status.  

But I want to talk about WHY this is even an issue.  And the reason is queerbaiting.  

Media properties have seen a huge increase in the amount of queerbaiting in the last decade or so, as same-sex relationships become more acceptable and as creators realize the popularity of slash in fandom.  The explicit catering to an "are they are aren't they" dynamic between two men is fairly recent, though you could argue it's always been present to SOME extent.  This kind of relationship is one that TV writers have used FOREVER to maintain an audience, though, it's just usually been done between opposite sex partners.

(Fandom History aside: The term "shipper" was coined in the X-files fandom to distinguish between people who supported a romantic relationSHIP between Mulder and Scully and those who did not.  Yes I was in fandom then.  That picture above...there was not a kiss in that scene.)

The problem with this trope when used for queer relationships is that the showrunners usually want to have their cake and eat it too, by playing VERY BLATANT homoeroticism for the fans and then denying there's anything queer about the relationship when questioned.  Or creating an ending that firmly sticks at least one of the partners in a heterosexual relationship/marriage.  

This is something that has happened in media over and over again in the last 15 years.  Western media examples: House, M.D.; Merlin; Supernatural; and most recently Sherlock. (Also Hannibal, with the exception that it was ultimately very nearly paid off on screen and everyone involved is like, 'yeah totally gay.')  (I'm going to focus on male relationships because they're the more prevalent and for some reason male showrunners seem to be more comfortable making lesbian relationships canon.)  (Pictured below: Hannibal brings the blood with it’s queer subtext becoming text.)

This is even more prevalent in anime, with the culture of shounen-ai, Yaoi, BL, and fujosji creating an eager audience for implied romance between male characters.  There have been several recent mainstream anime that have been particularly bad about this, including Free! and Haikyuu!! (I have watched neither, just a disclaimer.)  But essentially in anime queerbaiting is just another kind of fanservice these days, handled with as much subtlety and tact as most fanservice.  (Below: A totally heterosexual scene.)

So what does all this have to do with anything?  Well, I think queerbaiting has conditioned fans to disregard very clear indicators of a romantic relationship.  We've become used to seeing characters (both queer and straight, to be fair) flirt like crazy, touch each other, stare longingly at each other, and come really, really close to sexual activity and still are told that they're just friends.  I'm sorry, but in real life, it doesn't work like that.  Coworkers don't behave like that, and SHOULDN'T because it's freaking inappropriate.  If you act that way towards someone in real life, expect to either get laid or fired/arrested/slapped.  But within the bounds of fiction, we are expected to buy that this is all "Just Normal Friend Stuff."  (Pictured below: Normal Coach Stuff.)

Now obviously, many fans don't actually buy that.  They believe the characters are clearly involved romantically and tend to get quite angry when showrunners try to deny it.  But there are always going to be fans who take the opposite view.  This is a debate that is as old as fandom itself.  In an "are they or aren't they?" debate someone is always going to take the "they aren't" side.  And usually those people have Word of God on their side.  They're the ones arguing that those lingering hugs and heated looks were all just because of the deep friendship...blah blah whatever.  

So anyway, I think Yuri on Ice is the pinnacle/the result of decades of queerbaiting.  We get a show where the two main characters kiss on screen (ok, ok SORT OF onscreen), exchange gold rings and then say they are "engagement rings" and they are going to "get married", in addition to all the BLATANT moments of flirting and sexual tension/possessiveness, and you still have people willing to argue they aren't really a couple.  

Now, part of this is because the show's early episodes do tease the ship quite a lot, in a way that is familiar to anime audiences.  The blatant nudity, come ons, flirting, suggestiveness, etc are extreme to the point of comedy, but still in other shows are the kind of thing that is denied as evidence of homosexual relationships.  But the entire second half of the season, IMO, works to undermine these cliches, by paying them off with a real, meaningful, healthy gay relationship.  Given that YOI was created under pressure and censorship rules, so they couldn't show an actual gay kiss or actual sexual activity, I think they could hardly have been more clear in their intentions, while also keeping the focus of the show on the sport and not the romance.

But we're so conditioned to dismiss blatant signs of romance that we're left wondering if we're being screwed with once again. Our automatic assumption is now that no queer relationship could possibly be real in a TV show, that's how used to this kind of thing we are.  So I see the disagreement about the nature of the Victuuri relationship as a symptom of the greater media culture and it’s unwillingness to commit to queer stories.

[depizan]

Your favorite TV show for 001? :D

Hmm, what is my favorite TV show? Maybe I’ll do a pared down version for several shows… Like the ones I’ve seen episodes of recently enough to do.

Simon & Simon

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

Favorite character: Rick and AJ really are a set, I’ll go with both of them.

Least Favorite character: I wasn’t that fond of Myron Fowler, their first (or first couple?) season rival PI. Just not a character type I like much.

a random thought: For just a fun PI show, it tended to have an oddly different spin on things. I can think of several times when it took tropes I hate and did not do the standard thing with them. At all. Apparently the writers hated those tropes, too.

An unpopular opinion: I don’t know what popular opinions are. I do know that the show at least did have a fandom, because I found old fanzines with Simon & Simon fanfic (among other TV shows) in them early in my convention going days. Though, I was rather entertained by AJ’s longstanding romance with the never-seen Liz. (But I could imagine that irritating fans for a variety of reasons.)

most badass character: Lt. Abigail Marsh, no nonsense police woman who periodically had to put up with quite a lot of nonsense.

character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Hmm, I don’t know. I’m not going to say there were no terrible episodes, but it was one of the more consistently written shows from the time.

favourite friendship: Rick and AJ, of course! (Though their assorted other friendships over the years were also good.)

Remington Steele

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

Favorite character: Again, I like them as a team, so Remington and Laura...as a team.

Least Favorite character: I really wasn’t that fond of Mildred.

a random thought: For all its flaws, there are episodes that seem weirdly progressive compared to now. Not sure if that’s kudos to those writers or oh dear god what is wrong with now...

An unpopular opinion: Again, no clue what the popular opinions are. There may well still be a fandom, but I’ve never interacted with it. (Again, I know there was because old fanzines.) I vastly preferred the show once it moved on from “funny” sexism against Laura, and was more about them actually being a team. Also, I preferred having Laura’s original additional staff to Mildred fawning over “Mr. Steele.” I thought the dynamic was more interesting.

most badass character: I am going to be weird here and go with the woman Murphy was having a date with in the episode I just saw, who turned out to have all kinds of useful skills and got sucked into helping solve things. I’m kind of sorry she didn’t become a regular because that was different and hilarious.

character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): I don’t know about characters, exactly, but the premise doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. Or didn’t in the ‘80s. I wish there’d been a way to get a similar sort of situation without all the hawhaw sexism and the ridiculous idea that no one would hire a female private detective.

favourite friendship: Again, Remington and Laura, once they were friends. (Yes, I know they were also a couple. Or trying to be one.)

Star Trek (original series)

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

Favorite character: That’s even harder in group shows! Half the fun is the interplay between characters.

Least Favorite character: Harry Mudd was kind of a sleeze. Then again, the show knew that...

a random thought: I think it’s mostly changing times that resulted in memetic Kirk. Aaaand people going off memories rather than actually rewatching the shows.

An unpopular opinion: I think “The City on the Edge of Forever” (the one with the random time travel artifact and having to let the woman die to save the future) was not actually a very good episode and that the premise was ridiculous and contrived beyond belief.

most badass character: Scotty.

character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): I don’t know. I think I’d have to rewatch all the episodes and get nitpicky. Though, it would’ve been nice for Uhura to get to do more. Then again, 60s.

favourite friendship: The crew. 

Of course, I could’ve interpreted the question as sarcastic and answered for a certain show we both snark about a lot. But, well, I have an allergy to pitchforks and torches.

Also, 99% of the above will make very little sense to people who haven’t seen the shows. Ah well.

[rollychan]

Mwahaha...you asked for it. OK 2, 3, 6, 7, 9 oh man this is a lot 16, 31, 32, 33 uhhhh shoot 36, 39, 40, 44 you know what fuck it just do the whole damn list man (ps I can totes send you a shorter list this is ridiculous I just started reading the list of questions and this happened I'm so sorry)

Oh boy, I wasn’t expecting any asks on that meme anymore lol But I really wanted to do that one so thanks

Answers under the cut (bc I’m nice and won’t make everyone scroll down endlessly to finally get past this post just because I can’t keep it short for the life of me lol)

2. Favorite genre of fic?

I’m sorry that I’m so boring, but I have to say romance lol (because the right romance fics are so much better than most published romance novels). But I also love love love some other plot in it. Actually, I don’t think I really have a set favourite genre? Whatever speaks to me, basically? Many of my favourite fics aren’t really all that similar to each other. But I guess since I’m looking for romance stuff the most, it’s romance.

3. Favorite fandom? 

Another tough question because I am so very indecisive, I can’t have a favourite fandom. I love many fandoms. I mean, I guess I’d have to say Harry Potter because somehow, I’m always coming back to it because there are just so many quality fic in there if you know where to look. It’s kind of also kind of one of my very first fandoms and now I’ve been in it for so long, I can’t just abandon it lol

Just fandom-wise I really really love Haikyuu because that fandom is just so nice? I mean, I’m not all that involved in any fandom I guess, which is why I miss many things and conflicts (e.g. I only found out about all the drama in the MCU fandom re Iron Man vs Cap or the drama in the Teen Wolf fandom through people I follow lol), but the worst I have witnessed in Haikyuu is how some people gave thought-out arguments (without insults) why one character is or is not coded as a “villain” type character (there was/is a dispute about one character because some hate/dislike him and others defend him). And that’s it. Other than that it’s mostly “OMG I LOVE EVERY CHARACTER AND SHIP EVERYTHING” from almost everyone in that fandom lol (or “I don’t care what you ship as long as you let me ship my stuff, ship and let ship”). It’s just really chill. It’s also the fandom that really made me a poly-shipper. Idk, man, I love that fandom.

The Yuri!!! on ice fandom is also really nice. Those people sure like to discuss and explain things lol Also, almost everyone had, literally, the same reactions to the stuff happening in it. Plus, we got a healthy, loving, explicit same-sex relationship in an anime. That’s, like, a really rare thing. The only other genre-anime I know with an explicit same-sex kind-of-relationship is No. 6, and that relationship is so friggin far from healthy it’s not funny (sorry, NezuShi fans, I am a fan of them too, but their relationship throughout the entirety of the series is not healthy by any standard, which is totally explainable by the circumstances, but seriously, they’ll have a lot of growing up to do before it can be called healthy). Anyway, I digress.

6. Favorite fic (or one of them)? 

HOW CAN YOU ASK ME FOR JUST ONE

I shall give you MORE THAN ONE, because I can and I will.

Okay, so, first I just have to tell you about my first absolute favourite fic ever, which, I’m really sorry, but it’s in German and it’s a Yu-Gi-Oh! fic lol

It’s “Paw Prints - Pfotenabdrücke” by someone I’m actually following on here ( @goldandcold ) who is an amazing and talented writer and I really have to read stuff by her again asdfghjkl but atm I’m into very different fandoms and just *cries* I need more time so I can watch the stuff she’s watching and writing for lol can someone, like, gift me a hundred free hours? lol

Anyway, that fic has character death in it, which is something I usually avoid at all costs because I know myself and I know I’ll be depressed about it for at least a week if I read character death. I’m like that lol

But I did because I always make exceptions for writers I like. Well, it became my favourite fic, so I guess I can’t complain. I will always remember the last words in there

“Du bist quer über mein Herz gelaufenwie ein kleiner tollpatschiger Hund über nassen Sandund du hast überall deine Pfotenabdrücke hinterlassen”

which roughly translates to

“You walked across my heartlike a little clumsy dog across wet sandand you’ve left your paw prints everywhere”

asdfghjkl I just love those words, they resonated with me so much and asdfghjk *flails* yeah, first fave fic. (also, now I’m in nostalgia land)

Another favourite fic I love to come back to is “Eclipse” by mijan (Harry Potter this time, back then I read it on fictionalley, but the link doesn’t seem to work atm? Is fictionalley down?). I am still entranced every time I read it and whenever I start it I have to continue reading till the end because I just love it so much. The plot is so amazingly intricate and the character development is THE FRIGGING BEST I CAN’T and everything makes so much sense and asdfghjkl it is just very amazing ok. The amount of detail in that story *sigh* *must resist reading it now before all the exams*

Another two favourite Harry Potter fics are “All Our Secrets Laid Bare” and “Stop All the Clocks”, both by @firethesound. AOSLB is just amazing all around, okay, I even reblogged a rec for it here on tumblr (here). I just love it so very much omg *flails* The idea alone to make them investigate Death Eater safe houses and all the FRIGGING DETAILS IN IT!!!!!! THE DETAILS!!!! SO MUCH LOVE!!!! (yes the exclamation marks are necessary)

I wrote a rec myself for Stop All the Clocks here. Weirdly, it also has major character death in it. But, same as above, I do make exceptions for writers I really like. That fic destroyed me though. I absolutely love the parallels in that fic, too. And how it spans many years. Just. Very beautiful, very touching, very sad. Which is why it’s great that there is AOSLB. I also still have to read all the other fics because I just KNOW they’re ALL amazing

And I’m still not done with the fave fics, guys. I’m sorry I can’t keep it short *cough*

Moving away from Harry Potter... the next one is for Free! Anime again lol It’s, weirdly, another fic that doesn’t end all that happily for the romance, and the fic is “With Vega At Your Left” by threesmallcrows. It’s a different take on a soulmate AU. Like, when the person you’re in love with isn’t your soulmate. A side character also deals with an abusive soulmate. Basically, everything that can go wrong with soulmate marks. And it’s just so real. Trigger warning for attempted suicide though (and mentioned abuse - like, the abuser doesn’t appear in the fic and the abuse is only talked about and the repercussions dealt with, but nothing explicit). I love this fic a lot, but it gives me the sads.

Okay, I still have a few favourite fics but I think I need to stop here, I’ll just link to them:

The Fears are Paper Owls by yaboykeiji (Haikyuu!! Akaashi does time jumps to try to prevent Bokuto’s death - kinda like Butterfly Effect)

Savior by dgalerab (Haikyii!! / X-Men crossover - Haikyuu characters as mutants)

Safety in Silence by survivah (Teen Wolf canon divergent soulmate AU with the soulmate “condition” not necessarily being reciprocated, lots of Sterek pining and friendship and angst, really slow-burn and really sweet and cute, very fluffy too, awesome idea to make it different for different species! Also, werewolves and other species are known to humans etc)

Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by FairyLights101 (Teen Wolf Sterek pretend to be dating AU, also the-Hales-survived AU and Laura is an important character in that fic, and because the Hales survived, Allison also lives, double yay)

Seven Deaths by x-parrot (One Piece, no pairings (le gasp!), just Zorro+Sanji friendship, there’s violence (torture) in it, it’s not very explicit, but be warned)

Aaand I think I’ll stop here.

7. One-shots or longfic? 

I think, if you look at my favourite fics, you have the answer lol. Many of them are 100k+, so yeah, longfic lol I love the development that is possible in longfics. I do like shorter fic too, though in my mind, one-shot just means it’s all in one chapter... and there are 20k one-chapter fics out there, you know. But! I do also like short stuff, it just doesn’t really end up being among my favourites.

9. What is the longest fic you’ve read? 

Tbh, I don’t remember, but Eclipse is over 287k words long, and I’m not sure if I’ve read anything longer than that.

16. How do you feel about character death in fic? 

I think I’ve answered that somewhere in that novel above lol

Usually, I avoid it like the plague because I get the sads and am down for days afterwards. It’s not that I think those fics are bad or anything. It’s just that I want happy endings lol My heart can’t take too much sad. This doesn’t change even when I make exceptions, so that’s kind of the downside I have to live with when I do lol

In published novels and movies and series etc I don’t mind character death, but fic... well, fic are different lol

31. Do you read AUs? 

Yes! I used to avoid them, but then I guess some fic changed my mind lol I really love all them tropes, soulmate AUs, fake-dating AUs, police procedural AUs, you name it. For some weird reason I’m not all gung-ho about coffeeshop AUs. I don’t mind them, and I’ll read them if they’re good, but they seem kinda boring to me. (oh, and pls don’t come with a/b/o stuff at me, it squicks me immensely and I hate it)

32. Favorite AU tropes? 

Fake dating! Soulmates! Specifically for Teen Wolf: Allison lives! The-Hales-Survived! Idk, there are too many lol Well, my fave is still the platonic bed sharing one (not sure if that counts as an AU trope, since it could also be written in non-AU fics). I also seem to like time travel / time jumps / time manipulation.

33. Least favorite AU tropes?

A/B/O fics. I just hate them and I don’t even wanna see them, they squick me *shudder* I mean, to each their own, and I wish it at least wouldn’t squick me that much (it’s a physiological reaction, I get the creeps and it’s almost like I feel one step away from nausea - same feeling I get when I see reader x character fic, squicks me too and is the sole reason I never visit the teen wolf tag because it’s full of those), but it does.

36. Do you like crossovers? If so, favorite crossover? 

I do! But I’m kinda still new to them and they’re not my favourite thing, so I haven’t read many crossover fics yet. I really like that X-Men crossover fic I linked to, and I do like Harry Potter crossovers (like, the other characters as witches and wizards in a wizarding school). Other than that I’ve also read a really cool Criminal Minds/House MD crossover once, and a Criminal Minds/Supernatural one too, and they’re pretty cool. Guess I still have to figure out what I particularly like when it’s about crossovers.

39. Favorite AU fic? 

Savior by dgalerab, as I’ve already linked above :D

This is also the fic that really got me into poly ships. The relatioship between the four characters just feels so natural as it develops, it feels like that’s how it should be. It also deals with past abuse and there is 120% consent invovled. It’s just a really good fic ok

40. Do you like fluff?

OMG I LIVE FOR FLUFF

So, yeah, I do lol I mean, I do need other stuff in it too, but I absolutely do like fics that aren’t too serious and where the conflicts aren’t life-or-death or heavy on the angst etc. Like, slice of life kind of stuff.

44. How fluffy is too fluffy? 

There is never a too fluffy +_+

Okay, jokes aside, I do want a plot. A story isn’t a story when there’s no conflict, so that’s that. Though that’s the only requirement for me, really lol Otherwise it can be as fluffy as it gets.

I hope I haven’t forgotten anything lol

Rolly out