#all males deserve cruel deaths

[lobotomizemen]

A 17 year old male attacked and murdered at a Taylor Swift themed dance workshop for 6-11 year olds. The motive is currently unknown to the police, but it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. He knew exactly the demographic of people that would be at that sort of event. The child victims were 6-10 years old. 2 little girls confirmed dead. This is a hate crime. The pattern is always male.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Your Knight in Shining Armor

Kinktober 2024 Day 1: Whump Yandere Male Royal x Male Reader AND (separately) Yandere Male Dragon Hybrid x Male Reader CW: Painful noncon, blowjobs, minor physical abuse, verbal abuse, homophobia, internalized homophobia, bullying, kidnapping, minor character death, implied minor character murder, non-human genitalia, emotional trauma, angst, hurt with little comfort, humiliation, degradation, shame, a lot of crying, general yandere behavior, possessive yandere, whump, Dead Dove: DO NOT EAT Word Count: 3.5k (I decided to make my own list of kinks/scenarios for kinktober. I am only posting every other day and not everything is a full fic, though there are several full fics in the mix. This has been a labor of love for you my beautiful readers, please enjoy!)

The Prince of Thornhollow, Percival, was pampered and spoiled by his royal upbringing. He seemed to have been almost blessed. Not just by birth but also in ability. In contests with his knights, he was always the victor, and in his hunts, he had always been successful. The skill he possessed only served to grow his sense of superiority.

He also delighted in cruelty. All of this was unleashed upon castle servants. Since you were his personal servant, you suffered the most abuse by far. The prince tripped you, made fun of you, ridiculed you for the smallest things, and smacked you around whenever he was upset.

A few times he forced you to jerk him off and look at him while you licked the cum from his cock. He loved the humiliation in your eyes.

"You should be thanking me for letting you taste the royal seed with your peasant mouth."

It wasn't a suggestion. You had to thank him. He berated you afterward for being a girl and liking dick. It was an open secret that you fancied other men, and it was a favorite subject for Percival to pick at.

Sadly his sexual abuse didn’t end there. One time, when he was drunk on wine and you had been cleaning his chambers, he suddenly pinned you against the wall and kissed you roughly on the mouth. Sloppy and uncoordinated, you could taste the wine.

You flinched from his touch, sure that it was a cruel joke. And even if it wasn't your first kiss, you should have been from someone you loved, not someone you feared.

Percival grabbed your wrists to stop your squirming.

"Stop fighting, slut."

His words were harsh but his voice had a certain softness that you were not accustomed to from him. It was obviously the alcohol.

"You're gay, I'm an attractive man, I know you want this."

You yelped as he spun you around and grinded against your ass. You had no choice but to comply with his every whim... he was royalty. He nuzzled your neck and cooed into your ear.

"You're shaking so much, I bet your trembles will feel so good from inside you."

Percival pulled your pants down, followed by his. He took a gob of precum from his cock and massaged it into your hole.

"I bet you can't believe your luck, having the prince do this to you."

He slid a finger into you, followed by another. You wept silently as he squirmed inside your ass to stretch you out.

"I'm not a gay freak like you, this is just your reward for being such a good servant all these years. You deserve it."

The prince sucked and kissed your neck as he slowly pierced you with his cock.

You gasped for breath as the pain made you speechless. You would have fallen to the ground had Percival not been propping you up with his strong hands. There was a resounding smack as his nuts hit your ass with every thrust. You tried to squirm free, instinct overriding the attempt to obey a superior, but Percival wrapped his arms around you tightly.

"Just try to relax. You'll love it. I know you'll love my cock."

He nibbled on your ear and trailed kisses down your neck.

"Stop crying, you're being really ungrateful... it's starting to annoy me..."

He began going at a crueler pace in his frustration. He felt between your legs and you were barely even hard. He thought you'd love this, there were prevalent rumors that several knights had used you as a convenient cumdump and he was obviously better than they were. Of course, you were a virgin, and the prince was robbing you of your first time in the most brutal fashion.

After filling you with his cum he let you slump to the floor as he sneered.

He was still drunk, but his orgasm brought a bit of clarity, letting his elitism and internalized homophobia bubble back to the surface where it mingled with his disappointment and insecurity at the fact that sex with him wasn't enjoyable for you.

He was too ignorant to know that much better lube and stretching needed to be used while you were more relaxed. Percival wiped himself off with a rag and then threw it at you with a look of disgust.

"Clean yourself up, then get the hell out and don't let anyone know, or I'll cut out your tongue."

You wiped the cum and blood from you quickly and staggered to your feet before hobbling away while sniffling. He didn't do anything like that again, not even force you to suck him, but he did treat you worse for weeks.

His disposition finally went back to his normal level of disdain when he finally got his new set of enchanted armor. It was white and black, with silver and gold filigree. It became your most important set of tasks, fetching, polishing, and putting away his armor as well as helping him into it. Though even when it was perfectly polished, it was not unheard of for you to get a minor thrashing at the hands of the prince.

The life you had was pretty miserable. Even though the prince acted as a tyrant to his personal servant, you, he protected his and the crown’s image. It helped that the royal family's policies and skills at governing resulted in a fairly content lower class. Percival, especially, was beloved by many. The handsome prince with his blood red hair and muscular physique. He was quite charming and had drawn the affection of many noble ladies. This meant you couldn't find an escape or even speak badly about the prince because you would surely be ratted out.

So you went about tending to the prince as best you could and just hoping that he wasn't in a foul mood at any given time. But the prince wasn't the only thing you had to worry about.

There was a dragon-man hybrid, Rinvir, that had been attracted by a certain shiny gleam. He found that it was the valuable armor of the prince.

Of course, it may be good to have someone tend to the armor sometimes. Maybe they could polish other treasures for him. When he watched you shine the armor, he couldn't help but think how nice it would be to have your delicate human hands tend to his "sword" too. And maybe how good it would feel "sheathed" inside of you.

Rinvir wouldn't just mate with a human for such a flimsy reason, so he stalked you and the prince. Whenever he was hunting with you as his assistant, whenever you were in the training fields helping him put on his armor, whenever you were alone and tending to your outdoor duties.

He hated the prince but fell deeply in love with you. You were so kind and soft-spoken, so diligent with your work no matter what the task.

Rinvir wanted you even more than the immensely valuable armor. He still wanted the armor in his hoard, though, too. It would spite the prince nicely.

The dragon-man waited until a lovely clear day when you were just about to help Percival into his armor. He was screaming at you to hurry up as you were struggling with its immense weight. Rinvir swooped down and snatched you right up, armor and all. A flash of shiny blue scales was all the prince saw before you were gone. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment before collecting himself.

"But... that one was... mine..."

He had to have yo-, no, his... armor back. It was so valuable and had been forged partly by magical means. Luckily, his father, the king, agreed. It was an insult to their rule to let such a slight go unpunished.

Dragon-men were strong, but the prince had a good number under his command, his own talents, and the magic of the court wizard backing him up. He'd have his precious peasant back by any means! And this time, he'd not let silly shit like fear of rumors and homophobia stop him from holding you close in bed while rearranging your guts.

Oh, uh... and he'd have his fancy enchanted armor back... that was what he was really worried about... the armor... yeah...

Meanwhile, at the formerly abandoned lakeside temple that Rinvir called home, you were crying. A giant man with shaggy unkempt hair, huge blue wings, horns, and scales up and down his arms and legs had just made off with you. Surely he would eat you or kill you for sport.

"Shhh, calm down, delicate thing."

He took you to his underground treasure room and put the armor on a stand then gave his undivided attention to you.

"You're my new favorite treasure!"

He nuzzled into your neck and licked your cheek, causing you to shudder.

"I-I'm not a treasure... j-just take me back home!"

He laughed. That wasn't happening.

"And go back to that abusive royal? Not a chance. You're gonna be my mate."

At first, you were borderline hostile. Then you were extremely reluctant. But as the days and weeks turned into months, you became more and more amicable to your self-appointed boyfriend. Rinvir did so much for you. He set up a little garden so you could enjoy outside time because you always looked at peace during your brief moments in the palace gardens.

He caught food for you. Though you did have to prepare it, he was no chef. But you had to prepare fresh meat on the prince's hunts all the time. But now you got to cook it how you preferred and Rinvir left you the best bits.

When you were sore, he gave the best massages.

When you slept, he held you tight to provide warmth.

When it came to sex Rinvir was a patient and gentle lover. So far, you had only pleased him with your mouth and hands, and he had returned the favor. His cock was thick and slimy but you actually enjoyed how it felt in your hands and the taste wasn’t bad either. He never pressured you into anything and was content with letting you explore what you liked at your own pace.

He really was your savior. Your dragon in shining scales.

It had been three months. Three agonizing months without his manservant. His beloved. His father had ordered him to give up the search because at this point, it was getting costly, and the prince had matters of state that needed attending. They could always make new armor and still investigate in smaller numbers if there were solid leads about the dragon.

That wasn't acceptable to Percival. His servant was probably dead or, at the very least, being tortured by a beast. It had been so long, and there were no guarantees that you were still alive. Percival had to have closure and revenge. Even if you were alive, he'd need revenge for having to endure without you, and you had surely missed him. If you were still hanging on you probably felt abandoned.

His father wouldn't budge. And when, in desperation, Percival had told him he valued and needed your friendship, his father had laughed him out of the throne room.

Unfortunately for you, his father came down with a sudden case of "died in the middle of the night." It was assumed he had succumbed to his advanced age, though that wasn’t the case.

King Percival redoubled the efforts into finding that thief of a dragon. It took an extra month after his ascension to the throne, but he had discovered rumors of a shimmering blue dragon-man. Percival spared no expense. Took no chances. He surrounded the entire area with well over 100 troops and had hired an additional two mercenary mages to work alongside the court wizard. They had used great magic to keep the approach silent.

It was the middle of the night when they made their move. Rinvir heard them approach and woke you up quickly.

"I think the prince found us! There's a lot of them. I can't believe they got so close without me noticing!"

He held you in his arms and planned to fly off with you through the temple's tower window.

You were too frightened to speak, but you had confidence in Rinvir's ability to get you to safety.

Rinvir spread his wings and leapt from the window. But a beam of light made by the combined magic of the King's sorcerers pulled the two of you to the ground.

Percival's heart leapt at the sight of you. He could scarcely believe you were still alive. This was amazing. He'd take you back, marry you at once, keep you safe, and heal you from whatever trauma this brute subjected you to.

"SLOWLY!!! He has my betrothed!!"

Yes, he was quickly paralyzed with powerful magic, and you were pried from his grasp.

Your knightly king would have you soon. Percival would make up for every bad word he ever uttered to you, for every humiliation, for hurting you the first time the two of you had made love because he had assumed you were more experienced.

He felt silly for having brought a small army when all he had needed were a few powerful magic users. They brought you to him, and he hoisted you into one of the wagons that had been brought to take back the dragon's treasures.

Percival removed his replacement armor and pulled you right into his lap. You had been shocked into silence with everything having moved so fast. One moment, you were snuggled up with Rinvir, your love, and suddenly, you found yourself in the lap of the man who made you hate life. Who's touch made you want to vomit.

You tried to shake him off and escape his hold.

"M-my Rinvir... I got to see Rinvir..."

"Who? That glorified lizard? Has he brainwashed you!? They say the best way to break such magic is with the touch of a loved one."

His hands were all over you as he peppered you with small kisses.

"Forget that monster, you're safe now, I promise."

"Y-you don't understand! I love him! Please let us go!"

He held you tightly with one arm as he began stripping you down with the other.

"I know just the thing to break this bewitchment."

Percival figured even if you weren't under the power of a spell that giving you his cock and making you feel good would still help you get over your overgrown lizard. The king kept you on his lap but turned you to face him. He swallowed up all of your protests with a deep hungry kiss, his tongue rolling around your mouth as it invaded you.

You started thrashing more as his finger grazed your hole. He held you tight as he leaned over and grabbed a vial from a box underneath his seat. He had this wagon prepared for your rescue if it was successful.

“Please don't. J-just let me go back...”

He put the contents on his fingers and massaged them diligently into your hole, slowly adding more digits until you could handle four of them with ease. Then he slicked up his large cock.

"Don't worry. This will be so much better than last time. I'll be the only man you ever think of after this."

His mouth attended to your neck as he slid into you slowly, going at a slow pace and making sure he hit a spot in you with each thrust that made you shudder and keen.

Percival had to admit that it was his fault your first time was awful. But he had consulted books since then. If he had been this attentive the first time, he could have been bedding you for a long time. You wept silently as your body betrayed you entirely, Percival assumed that the pleasure was just too much for you. You came intensely, spurting cum all over his hard abs and chest.

He went faster, still careful to go at a pace that wouldn't hurt you, as he chased his own climax. Being inside you finally and seeing your face as it was so ruined by pleasure sent him over the edge, and he filled your bowels with his semen.

"See!? Isn't that so much better? We can do it all the time now! I forgot to tell you! I'm the king!!!"

He held you close, burying your face in his pecs as he rubbed your back.

"If anyone gives us shit for being gay I'll cut their tongue out."

Percival was worried because you kept shaking and sobbing, but when you cried about wanting to go back to Rinvir, his attitude went icy. He peeled you off of his dick and cleaned you up roughly but then sat you across from him.

He had to remind himself that you had suffered great trauma, and it would likely take time to heal since it clearly wasn't a mere spell that had been laid upon you. He had to remain kind to you because it wasn't your fault, and a king shouldn't treat his betrothed too harshly.

Besides, he still had to make up for all the torture he put you through.

But he was not known for his patience. As the weeks passed, he grew increasingly irritable and could no longer handle your ceaseless whingeing about Rinvir.

Percival arranged for you to meet the piece of trash.

He took you down to the dungeon where you saw Rinvir. He was encased in a solid block of some type of enchanted glass or maybe even magical ice, completely unable to move. You fell to your knees and pressed your hands to the surface of the material as you cried his name. You hadn't seen him since you were ripped from his arms, you hadn't even known whether or not he survived!

"He's still alive, you know?"

Percival leaned down and spoke softly into your ear.

"I was going to have him displayed in the throne room, but that would have been too cruel to you, and I do love you so."

The depraved king applied a special lube to his fingers. One that was guaranteed to make you cum hard.

"He can see and hear everything. Since you cry for him so much in my presence, it is only fair that he hears how I make you moan and cry in pleasure."

You were crying so desperately that Percival's words hardly registered at all. Only when he pulled down your leggings did you realize his intent. You squirmed and writhed as he put the lube in you, feeling a strange heat inside you as he rubbed it in.

He gripped your hips and lined up with your hole, your crying face looking down shamefully to avoid seeing Rinvir as Percival took you.

His cock kissed that spot inside you and instantly you started moaning. It was like he was pumping a surge of ecstasy into you with every thrust. Though tears fell to the cold dungeon floor as he fucked into you, you couldn't help arching your back and moving against every thrust in an effort to feel it more deeply.

It was something you had never done before while Percival "made love" to you.

Percival greatly increased the pace. He wanted Rinvir to hear the smack every single time he drove into you, wanted you to hear the squelch from the precum and lube as he pressed into you, and most of all wanted him to hear all the pretty little gasps and moans HIS fiancé was making that HE had caused.

Percival's throbbing cock spilled rope after rope of semen into you, causing you to practically collapse to the floor in a riot of bliss as you came. You buried your head in your arms in humiliation and guilt. Your loving king angled your head up and forced you to look at Rinvir.

"It probably hurts him a great deal to see you like this, don't you think? From now on, anytime you mention his name, I am going to bring you down here and breed you right in front of him."

Percival sneered evilly at Rinvir. He knew from your defeated expression that he had won. The king kissed and comforted you as he picked you up to take you to bed. You had a long day, and tomorrow there was a wedding to start planning... now that you were over your ex...

He left the mess that had pooled out of you right where it had fallen. Rinvir could look at all the cum he had put into you for a while as a reminder of what Percival did to those who would dare take what was his.

[ynackerman9499]

Hello! This is me! 𝕪/𝕟 𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕟! This is my tumblr in case you don't know me i have a youtube channel which I upload texting stories videos to it! And this is my first post here in tumblr (original)

Some male Hashiras + kagaya reaction to you sacrificing yourself for them

⚠ Warning : spoiler in kyojuro and kagaya, take of death, blood, injuries, crying, some of them are really short

Giyu Tomioka

You and Giyuu were fighting against 2 demons who used a blood demon art

You killed one and Giyuu killed the other one

Or so you both thought...

"You did well giyuu_san!" You said smilling putting your sword in place

While giyuu just nodded humming as a silent 'thank you'

This only made you smile even wider. You've been friends with giyuu with great amount of time now

You both actually gets along very well Despite your different personalities

So you got used to his comforting quiet gesture

"All right! Let's head back n-"

You suddenly stopped sensing that something is wrong While giyuu looked at you wondering why you fell silent so suddenly

"Wh-"

You breathed in sharply, catching a glint in the air watching it whizz towards Giyuu.

"not on my watch!"

You yelled, quickly drawing your sword breaking the unknown object in half.

Giyuu's eyebrow twitched, taking his sword out of its sheath.

"giyuu, there!" You shouted, pointing to the direction of the demon that was currently perched on one of the trees.

The two of you gave each other a knowing nod, rushing towards the trees and jumped landing on one of the branches,

"come back here you coward!" You barked, skillfully jumping from tree to tree, following after the demon.

The demon hissed, sending metal shards towards you and Giyuu, which the two of you dodged with ease

"breath of ice..." you mumbled taking a deep breath

"dance of frozen crystals!"

Streams of sparkling diamond-like figures flowed out your sword as you jumped upwards, holding your katana over your head as you swung it effectively cutting half of it's body;

sadly, not his neck, as he covered it with a steel-like substance.

"Y/n!"

Giyuu called out, causing you to look back at him wondering why did he sound so worried

You saw he was looking horrified looking at your chest rather than your face

'why did he sound so-'

You were caught out of your thoughts by yourself coughing something liquid out of your mouth

You looked down at your chest, a large sharp metal shard piercing through the middle of your chest

"uh.. F-fuck.." you muttered stumbling back and falling against a tree vomiting even more blood feeling it a bit hard to breathe

"y/n! No!" giyuu shrieked running at your slumbering and bloody figure against the tree

"giyuu.. The d.. emon" You mumbled, coughing out a worrisome anmountof blood, the crimson liquid spilling out of your lips in mouthfuls.

"i cant leave you..." he whispered as of scared of starling you

"i cant you are in_" "... Dying"

You corrected him. Mastering the last energy you had to cup his face with your bloody hand while lying in his embrace

"i am.. Dying, Giyuu..."

"no.. No you are not.. You can slow the ble-" "my lungs are... damaged giyuu"

Tears burned his eyes, hugging you close to his chest and placed his hand over your cheek

"i.. Love you... Giyuu... So... Much.. " you confessed as you started to lose consciousness and struggling even more to keep your eyes open

You took a deep breath but sadly... It didn't come out again...

"y/n.. Y/n... Hey.." giyuu said with shaky voice as a couple of tears escaped his eyes

"hey...don't do this to me, love... I–i love you too... Why did you do this... I–i don't deserve this..."he said as he closed your lifeless eyes with his fingers

"i am sorry i am too useless to be able to protect you..." he was now on full mode sobbing

Oh how cruel is it that you didn't even hear the person you love saying thing you wanted to hear from him the most...

Obanai Iguro

No...

No no no no...

That wasn't supposed to happen...

The hit was meant for him...

It was meant for him damn it!

Why did you have to take it for him

He doesn't deserve it

He doesn't deserve to live

Why would he live while you are here dying in his arms gasping and wheezing for air

He is enraged

His fear tends to come out as anger

So while you are literally dying he is shouting at you for how stupid you are, how foolish to waste your precious live over his useless one

His shouting you mutter out an Inaudible : 'sorry... '

Just then the anger turns into tears

"you idiot..." he wailed... Actually wailed.. Something you never thought you'd see, not that you wanted to in the first place

It was supposed to be him...

"don't you dare apologise..." he hugged you even tighter feeling you fading away from him as you tried to breath but it only come out as a horrible choking sound as you choked on your own blood

His cheek rested on top of your head

"o-oba... nai.. " you said chocking in the middle of word as the hole in your chest began seeping even more blood

"g–give them.. H–hell for m–me... Yeah?..."

Oh he would...

He would make them pay for taking you away from him

For making the only person who kept him moving forward...

Is now cold and limb in his arms...

Sanemi shinazugawa

Fuck!

Shit! Shit! Shit! Fuck!

He physically can't handle what he is looking at

As he refused to stop saving you even after you already stopped breathing

"shit! Shit!" he pressed harsher on the wound, the blood was slowing but not because of his relentless attempt...

You were gone... Not even being able to get a word out because of how harshly he was crying

For some reason... Even in your final moments you found it kind of comforting that he was try his best to save you

You felt your heart break looking at him from the other side hugging your cold, lifeless body... Trying to squeeze some warmth into it even though he knows its useless

Kyojuro Rengoku

You coughed out blood as akaza hand went through your stomach

"Y/N! NO!"

You took the hit for kyojuro

I mean... How could you not... You just couldn't let someone like him die

You just couldn't...

Gripping your sword harder, you slashed it against his neck making his eye widen

'she got in my way! And she still has the strength!

Akaza thought as he was amazed at how you still has the strength to even breathe

'Kyojuro, im going to die. I know. We had a life planned in front of us, but..l couldn't let you die. I just can't'

You thought as The demon tried to punch your face, but you stopped it with your other hand

"Y/N!!"

'you won't get away... Akaza!'

Looking behind the demon, but still applying force on the neck, you looked behind to see Rengoku with the boy from before charging at you with their swords.

A smile got onto your face.

'I wont ever let go off the sword ..Until I cut his head off!'

"INOSUKE MOVE! MOVE FOR Y/N-SAN!"

The boar now charged at you with speed His attack cut the demons arms, your sword still attached to his neck.

He was running away, clearly.

The boy threw his sword at the demon,.

stabbing him through the chest. Followed by Screaming of how he was a coward by running away and that both Rengoku and you were stronger than him.

You felt two gentle pair of hands gripping your back, drops of water, or tears, to your cheek as kyojuro took you in his embrace trying to stop the bleeding even though he knows it's a fatal wound

"Y/n.. No. No..please don't leave me! Please! I beg you! I will go down on my knees if it have to!"

"kyo... It's okay..." You say voice barely a whisper as you gathered all the strength you had trying to put your hand on kyojuro's cheek.

He quickly took your bloody hand in his and put it over his cheek

"no no... The hit was meant for me to take... Why did you have to get in the middle... Why.."

"i just couldn't.. Let–" vomiting blood "y-you... Die"

You said panting feeling like you can't breathe anymore...

Kyojuro the brust out sobbing burying his face in your neck as your body laid lifeless in his arms

It was supposed to be him dammit!

He was supposed to be the one protecting you!

Not the other way around!

On the other side tanjiro watching the scene feeling his heart break over and over again

Another love story between two lovers was ruined by those disgusting Creatures

Tengen uzui

after a long and hard battle you had ended up dangling off the side of a cliff barely holding onto an also seriously injured tengen.

He could feel your fingers slipping from his.

you were both tired and injured it was a tough battle and despite the demons head being cut off you had taken some heavy blows and now you were dangling off the side of a cliff, barely conscious as tengen held onto your hand with his

"dont worry y/n! ill pul you up Soon!"

you could see him struggling to hold your hand and knew that if he held on any longer he might go down with you

watching him struggle above you made your heart ache as you couldnt do anything to help

"Ten.."

the both of you made eye contact with each other

"thank you for being with me... I love you so much"

his eyebrows twitched at your words

"why does it sound like youre saying goodbye? y/n. You better hold into my hand!"

his jaw was clenched as he spoke to you

you couldnt leave him

if only he had killed that demon sooner

if only he could have protected you

in this moment he hated the gentle smile that was on your face

because to him it meant he had failed

"we both know we'll both fall if you dont let go, neither of us have enough strength left to do anything."

"its okay ten, im ready. i love you and I'll always be watching over you. live well"

he could feel your fingers one by one letting go of his hand and he tried as hard as possible to not let go

"y/n please! I.. I can't do this without you... "

you just shook your head

"im sorry ten but you have to, i know you can. you're going to do great things, with or without me."

"always remember that i love you... And i'll always be watching you"

With that, the last grip he had on you failed

the serene smile on your face was the last thing he saw as you fell to your probable death,

shattering his heart

he screamed your name on the top of his lungs as your hands disconnected followed by painful sobs

Not again...

First his siblings now you..

He lost so many loved ones

of course he knew that he was too injured to pull you up and the most he could have done was just hold onto you until help came,

If help came...

he hated this,

he hated himself

what was the point of being strong when he couldnt even save the one person he loved most in this entire world

"Live well" it was one of the last things you told him hed try his best to because you asked him of it but to him living well meant being by your side which was something he couldnt do anymore.

Muichiro Tokito

poor baby doesn't really know what to do

he's kneeling beside you with a worried look

he's sweating and his hands are clammy

he remains silent for the most part

"Y/n?"

He is right next to you, hand nervously taking your own

"Don't worry."

you give him a weak smile as scary as it was, just his presence was enough.

"|-what do I do?"

The fear in his face made your heart clench.

"Just stay with me. You dont need to do a thing..."

You squeezed his hand with the last bit of strength

you had, smiling softly

"Be careful okay? There are still a lot of demons left"

You didn't fear death,

but you did fear what would happen to those you

loved once it got to you.

Kagaya ubuyashiki

This took place before the explosion in the final battle era

Your husband's hand is cold in yours. You squeeze his

fingers and watch the moonlight bleed out the color of

his skin into silver.

"Are you well, love?" you ask quietly. A washbowl rests to your side, the cloth draped over the side dripping droplets of water down the floor. You take it and wrangle the water with one hand as best as you can,

laying it atop his forehead after. Kagaya closes his eyes and smiles beatifically. It looks painful.

"I will be fine," he says. A mere whisper; it runs wild in the echoes of the night. "| am certain... After tonight, everything will be fine again." You hum thoughtfully. Your heart turns like a clock,

mechanical, a slave to fate. You dare not tell him anything.

"I wonder. . " Kagaya starts. "How does the sky look tonight, Y/N?"

You looked up at the sky as the clouds moved to reveal the beautiful moon

"it's beautiful..." you said as he leaned into your hand as you caressed his cheeks

"he is here..."

A long shadow blocks the moonlight. You look up.

Plum red eyes stare back.

"It's finally nice to meet you, Kibutsuji Muzan," Kagaya says casually.

A chuckle flits in your ear, honey-thick and suave.

Muzan's jacket rests precariously on his shoulders,

and the wind picks up, as if trying to steal it away. The sleeves whip around him uselessly.

"Well;" he says. "You sure look terrible, Ubuyashiki."

If you do not look too closely, you can still delude

yourself into dreaming that this is a normal family.

Your twins have not stopped playing, and their

laughter mingles with the song.

*after the speech because i cant recall it 💀*

"Kibutsuji" You incline your head, a mockery of respect. "You may have prepared for everything.. But there is one thing you didn't prepared for.."

"and what would that may be?"

"this–" you pulled out teh explosion monitor and jumped on kagaya and just before it explored a room open under kagaya's bed and you both fell into a room underground where your kids were waiting for you to come and there was a secret door which led to outside

But it was quite the fall, but you shielded kagaya's body with yours as you he fell on top of you

"Uhmm... " Kagaya groaned from the pain of the impact but more at the though that you were hurt from the fall and his weight together

"it's okay... It's okay..." you said as you cradled kagaya's fragile body

"i just need you to hold on for me... Can you do that please?"

The explosion was loud on top of you but what was more terrifying was the piece of wood of the selling above you that was about to fall

So you quickly pushed kagaya out of the way just as the piece of wood fell on your lower body completely breaking it

"y/n! " Kagaya yelled as best as he could as he heard your crying of pain

"i am fine! I am fine!" You shouted as you tried to stop the tears from dropping from the pain

"kiriya! Listen! Take your father and run out of here!"

"b–but mo–" "no buts! This piece of seilling completely crushed my lower par! You won't be able to get it out! Even if you did i'd be just a burden! I won't be able to run! No go! Go!"

Kiriya quickly carried his father on his shoulder as best as he could

"no... Y/n... If we die... we die together.. That's a promise..."

"well.. Look like i have a change of plans, sorry love"

You said as you smiled sadly at him even though he can't see it

*time skip*

"CAW! CAW! KIBUTSUJI MUZAN IS DEFEATED! KIBUTSUJI MUZAN IS DEFEATED! THE FINAL BATTLE IS OVER! CAW! CAW!"

Kagaya opened his eyes at the sound of the noisy crow.. And for the first time in years...

He sees the sky clearly as the curse marks started to fade from his body...

He quickly tried to ran into the place where his estate is supposed to be with only one though in mind...

'y/n...'

He opened his eyes clearly for the first time in years and the first face he wanted to look at was yours

"oyakata_sama! Wait! You are not fully recovered yet!"

The kakushi tried to warn him but he just didn't care

He wanted to see you, to touch you, to tell you how much you mean to him even though words cannot describe, to make sure you are alright

But what he saw made him stop and his blood run cold...

The estate.. His home... Your home.. Is now crumbled to pieces with you under all that

he quickly took off and tried to dig into the rubble in hopes maybe.. Just maybe.. You are still alive...

"master..."

The kakushis and the remaining of the hashiras felt thier heart break looking at thier master like this...

Nevertheless, they started to help thier master find his wife.. I mean.. You were like a mother and a big sister to them all...

"I found something!" one of the kakushi shouted as he saw your bloody hand sticking out of the rubble

They quickly ran to where he was and started digging even more, just as they reached your head they all stopped and stepped back for thier master to take a look at you...

"oh my dear..."

Kagaya quietly knelt down where your bloody upper body only was visible

He caressed your bloody

cheek just as you did with him a few hours ago...

Oh how beautiful you looked... Even if you were cold and pale with your lips starting to get blue..

He missed you so much that he almost forgot the way you looked...

You looked even more beautiful than he remembered even with the black circles under your eyes and the few wrinkles that appeared on your face and the grey hairs despite how young you are...

"oh love... How many times did i tell not to worry to much about me..." Kagaya whispered as he caressed your cold skin with a few tears falling from his eyes "like this you will age before time..."

He hugged you one last time before the kakushis free your body completely from the rubble and take you to bury your beautiful body

Today the world won peace.. But he lost his...

[floatyflowers]

i wondered are you take requests because I see good Yandere Male Alicent Hightower headcanon

Dark Male! Alicent Hightower x Reader

Otto manipulated Viserys into marrying you to his son, Aelyx.

After all, you are not the heiress to the throne, so Viserys didn't mind you marrying his hand's son.

And you found the Hightower boy handsome and kind, as he comforted you when your mother died.

And also you preferred to marry a boy one year older than you then a man twice your age.

Rhaenyra clearly doesn't like the idea of you marrying a Hightower, thinking that Aelyx is going to use you.

You married young, and had four children together, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron.

Clearly, when your sister's children were born with none Velaryon and Targaryen features, his hatred grew towards her.

Aelyx has forbidden you to speak to her, not wanting his sweet and kind wife, you, to interact with your 'unfaithful' sister.

The way your father treats you, also made Aelyx hate him.

The King only pays attention to Rhaenyra and her children, clearly favoring her over you.

Though you don't mind, Aelyx finds it cruel.

Your husband loves all his children equally...maybe he favors Aemond and is very harsh on Aegon, but he still loves them.

After all, they are from you, a woman he loves so much.

On the other hand, there's no question about your love for your kin, especially Aegon who is a mama's boy.

The moment Aelyx saw his second son missing an eye and you are crying while hugging Aemond.

He didn't hesitate to take the Targaryen ancestral dagger and try to poke out Luke's eye with it before Rhaenyra stops him.

At that moment, you finally see the true personality of your husband.

After Rhaenyra leaves to Dragonstone with Daemon.

Aelyx takes over the court and changes everything along with the help of Otto.

Even if you are against the changes.

Especially when Aelyx decided to claim Aegon as the true king after Visery's death, believing his eldest son deserves the throne more than Rhaenyra and her bastard children.

When you tried to stop him, he locked you up in your shared quarters during the coronation and returns back after Aegon is announced as King.

"What have you done? You have endangered our family!"

Aelyx holds you as you cry in his arms.

"I only did what was right to protect our family, dear wife"

[balkanradfem]

Debunking the 'males follow reason, women follow emotions' myth

A woman makes a rational demand to a male, he denies her. She gets frustrated and upset, he accuses her of being overly emotional, and the reason why women can't make good decisions. It's a situation we've seen repeat over and over again, and we've gotten convinced. After all, m*n don't get emotional, they make rational decisions, they don't have that annoying trait of having to cry or care too much, they just do what is right in any situation, while a woman could never stand in their place.

Historically, m*n have been making a lot of these, rational, non-emotional decisions, so let's analyze how they've been doing. Historically, a lot of m*n have both started, and fought in wars. According to them, this is a logical, hard factual decision they've made, and they're proud of it, wars are integral to humanity, we have to fight if we want peace, and so on. So rationally, what do wars achieve for humanity? Mass destruction, mass murder, terrorism, mass rape, mass famine, intense trauma, destruction of environment, destruction of animals, destruction of culture and property, sea of corpses. But, m*n have decided that this is reasonable, because to the country that's been doing it, it can bring new assets, colonization of land mass, new natural resources to exploit. Massive damage to one part of the population for the benefit of another part, this they say, is rational.

If you're a male, it's rational for you to cause damage to countless individuals if there is some sort of benefit to you in doing it. This is presented to us as a reasonable, human and rational thinking. They've not only indoctrinated us to believe this, but put this into their laws. They've created laws that allow them to commit murder under the circumstances of war. They've made sure to give themselves a way to commit murder to get what they want, and not be punished. Again, this is presented as inevitable, cold hard factual thinking.

I would argue that the emotions followed here are greed, sadism, pride, and deep sense of egotism. Deluding themselves into believing that the entire world is turning around their personal needs and wants, and any amount of damage made for this cause is irrelevant. This isn't rational thinking, this is selfish, valuing themselves to the point where other human lives have zero value to them; it's irrational. A woman who puts herself before others is immediately informed that she is objectively selfish, irrational, unrealistic, self-centered, and deserves any kind of harm going her way. M*n have been operating like this from the beginnng of human life, and expect to be praised as 'rational and objective', by these same women they call selfish for not acting as free servants for a second.

Let's look at another 'rational' concept males have created and developed: capitalism. Cold hard logic is – if you can exploit other people to the very maximum, and take the value of their labour for yourself, you should get to do it, and if you can't, work until your health gives out and you die in pain. Again, a group of people gets power to exploit another, resources are given to those with financial power; those who do not have it, have to fight to survive. We know at this point it's caused deaths, sicknesses, mental illness, hunger and low quality of life to the majority of the population, we also know it's caused massive environmental damage, to the point where the climate of the planet is threatened, and animals under mass extinction. Was this a logical move? Was it a normal, rational system to build? Yes according to m*n, because they get to use their financial power to rape women they wouldn't otherwise get to rape.

I would argue again, that the emotions followed in this case are selfishenss, cruelty and greed. When a woman tries to exploit people around her for her own benefit, she is called the worst slurs and names imaginable, and no punishment is too cruel to inflict on her. While m*n have been doing this for centuries and apparently we need to acknowledge that this is in fact, smart, rational and reasonable way to live, and also inevitable.

So let's see what women have been doing on earth at the same time while m*n were busy murdering people in wars and inventing financial systems that bring destruction; women were creating the human population. We were making sure that everyone alive gets to eat, drink, clean clothing, care. We were putting our labour and our minds in taking care of our family members, and fighting for our human rights whenever the situation, or the information we got allowed for it. We struggled to stand up to power-hungry m*n in our life who would exploit us, we studied and invented, we found our ways in every trade, every school, every cultural institution that did good to the planet, and we outpreformed m*n almost immediately after we got in. We gave our lives to make sure the human race isn't erased by the amount of murder and terrorism going on. We put our efforts into protecting the environment, we figured out medicine and then got destroyed for it, we lost countless of our own to murder, rape and torture, we tried to keep safe the ones who got hurt.

While m*n 'rational' and 'logical' thinking lead us closer to destruction, we've been fighting to preserve life.

Having the creatures in charge who believe themselves more rational, but function out of a place of empty pride, absolute ignorance, endless hunger for power, endless greed and insatiable sadism, is not a reasonable way to lead the civilization. In fact, it's been proven over and over again, that this causes low quality of life for everyone, creates practices that allow and support cruelty and destruction, and deals massive trauma and pain to the most of the living humans.

What is 'reasonable' to them, is for them to ignore everyone else's emotions, well being, safety, even the right to exist, and follow only their own. The reasoning they follow has nothing to do with being rational, it has to do with being selfish, proud, ignorant, and I can't stress this enough, being incredibly and utterly stupid. They're destroying the land they depend on to live, and feeling proud and rational to do so, while calling women stupid and selfish for wanting human rights.

It's been enough of this. A rational male has not been born or seen on this planet. We need to assume that every time a m*n says something, he has absolutely no clue what he's talking about, and is likely attempting to cause some damage for his own benefit – in all cases we will be right. We cannot let someone with a track record like this to be in the charge of decision making, nor should we respect their decisions. They couldn't even make laws that protect human lives. They couldn't even base their own accomplishments on the things they achieved – they had to take credit for our achievements over and over again. They are irrational, power hungry creatures that stop at nothing, humanity means nothing to them, human lives have no meaning to them. But they do to us.

We can make decision that make sense, specifically because we care about not destroying lives or the environment. We are capable of making the 'tough calls' because we will make the call that will not result in mass destruction! The only thing they keep holding over our head is that we don't have experience – but we can get it. And experience never helped them make less destructive, less stupid choices.

Male emotions are based on self-delusions. They refuse to see any consequence of their action, and play ignorant to the very end. Their empty pride, empty self-importance, empty confidence and empty arrogance is based on nothing but the lies they've told to themselves. Even slight factual analysis and statistics that come from male decisions, make their reasoning crumble into pieces.

Women's emotions are substantiated by facts. In every case when a woman has been told off for being emotional, she's getting gaslit and turned away from the cause of her emotion, which is always factual. It is reasonable to be upset at being treated as less than a human being. It is reasonable to care about the lives of other human beings. It is reasonable to care about the state of the world, state of the environment. It is reasonable to stand against destruction and loss of human lives. And yet we get told off for having the most substantiated, reasonable responses to male violence and terrorism.

And then there's one emotions males love to use to pretend they're not emotional: anger. It provides them with enough threat to stop women from analyzing and pointing out the failure of males, it works to protect them from the realization of how useless, harmful and destructive they've been. Making horrid, harmful and selfish decisions and exploding in anger if anyone comes close to pointing it out, coupled with blaming everyone else for having an emotional reaction to being harmed, is their primary 'reasonable' way of managing life. And this is what we have in charge on earth. A creature who causes damage, and then uses emotion to hide the damage they've done, while pretending to be an ignorant little baby, blissfully unaware of anything he does having any consequences.

We're done believing their lies.

[angellesword]

It's Not Living (If It's Not With You) | JJK

At thirty-two, you thought you had your life figured out. That is until you received a call one day:

"You need to go to Gangwon Police Station now. There are two people here: One thirty-something male claiming to be your husband, and the other is a three-year-old girl claiming to be your daughter. They say they won't leave unless you, the mom of the family, pick them up."

Or alternatively,

a series of events where you fall in love with Jungkook, become a mom, solve your dead best friend's case, and wriggle out of old money's grasp, but not necessarily in this order. (Maybe all at once. Who knows?)

Genre and warnings: enemies to lovers, idiots in love, mutual pining, OMG there is only one bed, forced proximity, cohabitating, enemies to friends to lovers, co-parenting, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, car accidents, law, this fic is originally written as an AOT au, but i've changed it to a JJK one, so please pardon any Japanese terms mentioned (they're not too relevant anyway) some of the characters are from aot too. i'm too lazy to change them haha

Pairing: Police Lieutenant! Jungkook x Lawyer!!Reader

Word Count: 45.5k

Spotify playlist here

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It's Friday.

Unlike others, you considered Friday just like any other day—it is a hectic time where you're deeply engrossed in reading what seemed to be an unending stack of files.

People working under you had already gone home. You allowed them to clock out an hour earlier, not hesitating to hand them your card so they could dine at whatever restaurant they liked.

Your employees deserved it after working 45 hours this week. It's the least thing you could do, though they wished you could extend the same treatment to yourself. Unfortunately, being a lawyer didn't give you the luxury to have a fun Friday night out.

You're stuck in the office, finalizing the cases you'd present before the court next week. Some might think you only needed to endure this day before fully giving yourself a break, but that's not true. Your weekend wasn't any better as you'd be spending it taking pro bono cases to help lower your taxes and prove to others that you did not fully succumb to this cruel, capitalistic world.

Speaking of capitalism, you've heard a quick but shy knock on the door. The person outside knew too well not to disturb you on a Friday night, but some things were inevitable.

"Come in," you ordered casually. Your eyes were still trained on the paper on your desk.

The door flew open as you heard your secretary's pointed heels hitting the cold tiles. Timidly, she said, "Sorry to disturb you, Attorney. We have an urgent case concerning your top client."

You hadn't heard the details of the case, yet you could already feel the veins in your head pulsating. This couldn't be any good. Your top client was the Braun-Grice family. The past months had already been too troublesome. What could those brats have done this time?

"Let me guess," you lazily highlighted the paper with red marks before staring at your secretary. "It's Gabi and Falco again, isn't it? Did they vandalize some rich man's house again?"

Your secretary wished it was that simple. She shook her head, "I'm afraid they've done worse than that." Her voice turned solemn. "The teens are involved in a car accident."

You were startled, immediately letting go of your highlighter. The boredom in your face completely disappeared as you questioned your secretary seriously. "What did they do? Let me see the file."

Mina was an obedient employee. She chose to stay in the office with you but with no intention of beating around the bush. She handed you the file immediately, "Ms. Braun called me earlier and said she and Falco need to see you now. They're in Busan Police Station."

Your hands on the file froze. Busan? What were those brats doing in your hometown? Gabi and Falco were both from Seoul. It's also still a weekday, meaning they had classes. Did they skip school to fuck around?

Mina filled in the blanks for you, "Ms. Braun is remorseful over the other line. She said she and Falco were super stressed in school, so they thought, why not try throttle therapy to ease their minds?"

You laughed derisively upon hearing that. Throttle fucking therapy, my ass. You bet it was Gabi's idea. She had always claimed to be fearless and unstoppable because she knew her family was affluent not just in Seoul but all over Korea.

"So what? Did their car crash into something? How much is the damage?" You finally opened the police report. The incident happened approximately three hours ago. Gabi could only reach your secretary after her medical check-up and giving a statement to the traffic police.

That brat! You had told her countless times to keep her useless mouth shut and wait for you to show up. Why did she never learn!?

"That's the thing. The damage isn't convertible in monetary value. Mr. Grice drove the car because Ms. Braun induced him to do so. Unfortunately, they hit two pedestrians before crashing into a tree."

Numbness crawled from your feet to your face. There was ringing in your ears, and you could've sworn your heart stopped beating when you saw the crime scene pictures.

"The victims are a married couple on their way home. Falco immediately called the police to report the incident. The paramedics came at once, but the victims were proven to be dead on arrival."

It's a miracle you could still hear Mina talk despite the nausea attempting to envelope you whole. Tears began to pool in your eyes, and before you knew it, they were already falling straight to wet the cuff of your long-sleeved shirt.

It's black.

The color of your top was black. Its design was similar to the one the dead victim was wearing. Only the color was different. Hers was white, making the blood staining her shirt so bright that it hurt your already bloodshot eyes.

White and black. She wore white because you claimed it fit her innocent personality more. Black was yours because it was as dark as your soul. The shirt was the perfect Christmas gift. Only two pairs were made by the designer. You paid a huge sum of money for these clothes.

You couldn't be mistaken.

You knew the victim all too well.

"The victims have been identified. The woman is named Sora Kang; the other is her husband, an Italian citizen named Niccolo."

That's all you need to hear before you clamp the folder shut. You stood up, "Cancel all my upcoming cases—Pro bono or not—I don't care. I'm going to Busan tonight."

"Yes, Attorney." Mina handed you two tickets. "I've already contacted someone to buy the bullet train tickets for us. It's the fastest route to Busan."

If this was any other day, you'd probably praise her for being the most reliable secretary, but this wasn't like your typical busy Friday.

You were still as busy as ever, but one thing had changed.

Sora, your childhood best friend, had died.

"I'm going to Busan alone." You tossed the keys to your house in this city to Mina, "I need you to go to my place first. There's a brown box under my bed. Pack it along with my other things—clothes and necessities. You already know that. Send it to Busan. The address is written on the lid of the brown box. I expect you to finish your job in two hours. I'll see you then."

Mina had no objections. She practically ran out of the office after you gave your orders.

Your train would leave in twenty minutes. The short time was not enough, but you forced yourself to gather your wits and temporarily bandage your broken heart.

After that, you went straight to the train station with one thing on your mind:

Clean this mess up.

***

It was quiet at the police station when you arrived. As expected, the Busan Police Division was not idle. Chief Police Kim Namjoon probably stationed his subordinates all over the city. Only Officer Park Jimin was at the front desk.

You wasted no time and showed your license to him; Jimin immediately directed you to the interrogation room where Falco and Gabi were being mentally intimidated.

As a seasoned lawyer, your head was held high as you barged inside the room, ignoring Jimin, who was anxiously coaxing you to calm down.

Of course, he'd tell you to calm down. Jimin was one of your childhood friends who had always been calm and rational. He didn't like solving things with violence, but he was smart enough to know you would not listen to him—not after you saw from the interrogation room window how the interrogator raised his fist to punch Falco. It was the typical intimidation to force a confession out of a suspect. You had encountered this scene many times, so your mind and body seemed to be on autopilot when you faced the interrogator. 

You grabbed the devices used to record Gabi and Falco's confession and broke them. At once, all proof gathered in the past hours vanished into thin air.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. Gabi, Falco, and the interrogator were dumbfounded by your sudden action.

"You dare!?" The interrogator was the first one to recover from the shock. He quickly turned to you. Intense fury painted his pathetic face as he clenched his hands into tight fists.

His reaction did not faze you one bit. In fact, it only prompted you to say your piece, "Article III, Section 19 of the Constitution states that the employment of physical, psychological, or degrading tactics against a suspect to force out a confession is punishable by the law."

Reciting a provision of the law verbatim was one of your favorite hobbies to defeat opponents. It usually leaves your heart with joy and pride whenever you see their faces morphing into anger and embarrassment. However, none of those exhilarating feelings envelop you.

There was only grief and nostalgia gripping your already broken heart. It was a shame none of these harrowing emotions could be traced in your face—as expected of a ruthless lawyer.

You continued with your attack, "If I remember it right, this is your seventh year in public service, so pray tell, Police Lieutenant Jeon Jungkook, how can you not know this basic law even student police knows?"

The mockery in your voice was palpable. Only fools wouldn't realize your intention to humiliate the interrogator. Unfortunately, Jungkook didn't give you the satisfaction of winning this game.

He soon caught up with you, "I didn't realize you keep track of my position and years of service, little miss esquire."

The burning fury was still visible on Jungkook's face, but it was now mixed with disgust. Jungkook was the type of person who'd proudly wear his heart on his sleeve, especially if it meant getting a jab at you.

It worked. A bubble of anger rushed in you when Jungkook refused to say your name and used your title as a lawyer instead. It's a poor attempt to rile you up, really. He acted as if he didn't remember your name—couldn't care less to remember it. It aimed straight at your pride—his subtle mockery crushed you, but he didn't end it with just that.

"Is it part of your schemes? Knowing what your enemies do, I mean. Do you keep track of us so you can use it to fuck us up?"

Jungkook folded his arms across his chest and jutted his chin out. He was already tall, so his current stance only made him look bigger—like he could swallow you in one go.

That's what Jungkook did in the end. He chewed you out, "I wouldn't be surprised. Seeing that your greed won against your dead best friend."

It was a low blow and Jungkook knew it, but you getting hurt never deterred him from hurting you further. 

"You know, don't you?"

You could keep your face impassive all day, but you couldn't fool Jungkook. One look at you, and he already knew you had gone from Seoul to Busan in haste. It sparked Jungkook's abhorrence even more.

"You know, and you still went here for them." The sharpness and accusation tinging his tone made you and the two teens flinch. That's when you came back to the realization that you and Jungkook were not alone in this room.

This always happened. You and Jungkook seemed to lose sight of your surroundings whenever you started fighting. Seeing Falco and Gabi's worn-out faces brought you back to the cruel reality.

This wasn't like your usual bickering with Jungkook during your high school days. This time, you two were barring your fangs and claws out, full of displaced hatred and pain because Sora was dead.

It took everything in you not to cry. Your legs were turning soft like you were about to pass out any moment from now. Jungkook's red-rimmed eyes felt like the blood that was sucked out of your heart.

"You disgust me." This was Jungkook's final words before walking away, leaving you with only a loud slam of the door.

"A-Attorney..." Gabi tried calling for you until your attention was focused on them.

You did not respond to her call but stomped in her direction. Every click of your pointed heels shook Falco and Gabi's hearts. Gone was the smug look on Gabi's face that appeared every time you came to bail her out of jail.

This case was different. She couldn't make it all go away with money. Gabi looked helpless. Her lips were quivering when she tried calling out for you again, "A-Attorney, please help us—"

Slap!

Gabi's ear hurt. In her nineteen years of existence, this was the first time someone dared lay a hand on her. Gabi was baffled yet couldn't look you in the eyes. Her head remained tilted to the side, allowing you to see the tears cascading down her left cheek.

It was Falco who tried to stop you. His eyes were full-blown panic as he tried to talk some senses into you, "Attorney, don't. Please calm--"

Slap!

You laid a hand on Falco's cheek, too. Naturally, Gabi tried defending her lover by grabbing your hand. You let her grip your right hand because it wouldn't deter you from using your other hand to slap her again.

The teens were teaming up against you. When you slap Falco, Gabi will rescue him, and vice versa. All they did was grab your hand, though. They didn't dare fight back, making it easy for you to alternately slap them until your hands ached.

In the end, the two resigned to their fate and simply allowed you to numb their cheeks with pain.

But it wasn't enough.

No amount of physical pain could equal the lives they had taken because of recklessness. The same goes for you. No amount of pain would justify dereliction of duty. As of now, you were left with no choice but to continue doing your job as a lawyer. You fished a calling card from your slacks' pocket and threw it across Falco's chest.

The calling card fell on the floor. The teens did not dare pick it up or even look at it. But your following words made their bodies tremble.

"If I were you, I'd pick that up and start calling my new lawyer, as I will no longer be representing you in court."

Gabi was wise enough to bend and reluctantly pick up the card. You wanted to step on her fingers and crush them with your pointed heels. But you did not.

Seeing tears form in Gabi's eyes when she spotted the name of the new lawyer you recommended brought you more joy than stepping on her fingers.

The new lawyer was Reiner Braun. He wasn't supposed to be a lawyer in the first place. Reiner was Gabi's cousin; their family's connection made it easy for Reiner to pass the bar despite his lack of knowledge and power. Frankly speaking, Gabi knew this. She tried to argue with you, but you cut her off with another resounding slap.

"You have the audacity to still ask me?" Unadulterated anger settled at the pit of your stomach. You were so mad you ended up laughing. You balled your hands into fists and hid them behind you. It's for the better; otherwise, you would also end up in prison because of an assault. 

"Your idiocy harmed my best friend. She and her husband died while you two fuckers remain in my line of sight—alive." You emphasized the last word with so much hatred, "So don't think even for a second that I will still be representing you in court. Because if I was..." The corner of your mouth turned up as you trailed off.

You looked at Gabi and Falco from head to toe. Only the blind couldn't see the threat dancing in your eyes. "I'll make sure you won't just lose the case. You'll get the maximum penalty, and I'll leave your ten next generations in shambles."

Falco's eyelashes fluttered. Gabi, on the other hand, gripped the card as if her life depended on it. They were resigning to their fate once more.

Good, because you could only take so much in an hour. There were still many things to patch up, and so you turned to leave, following the trail of footsteps Jungkook left.

***

Jungkook thought he was going crazy.

One would think that being in service for seven years would already desensitize his heart from crimes. He supposed that, to some extent, that was true. Unfortunately, no one had prepared Jungkook for all the negative feelings welling up in his chest as he dealt with the suspects involving the death of his loved one.

Sora.

A wave of nausea hit Jungkook as the image of Sora's dead body flashed in his mind. The feeling of helplessness was the worst punch in his gut, leaving his fist aching to beat the two teens in front of him.

Falco and Gabi remained rooted in their spot. Jungkook did not know what to do with them anymore. Whenever Falco confessed his crime, Gabi would refute it by saying it was all her fault. Jungkook couldn't care less about their heroic act; he just wanted someone to pay for Sora's death, but Falco had no plans of condemning Gabi either. He looked at Jungkook with tears, saying that Gabi was innocent.

Fucking brats! Jungkook couldn't take it anymore. He raised his fist to punch Falco; unfortunately, you barged into the room and ruined everything. It's bad enough that Jungkook didn't get to beat up Falco. How dare you destroy his evidence, too!?

"Damn it!" Jungkook kicked the pebbles outside the station. He initially left the interrogation room to cool down a little, but Jimin, his comrade, stopped him from getting back inside. Apparently, you told Jimin about that bullshit called the Bill of Rights.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. Captain Yoongi called. He told me to get you out of the station as soon as possible. You're barred from participating in this investigation. Captain Yoongi is on his way now. He'll be the one interrogating the suspects."

"You can't do this to me, Jimin." Jungkook shook his head, refusing the Captain's order. "Sora's my best friend. You are her friend too! We need to avenge her!"

Jimin surely loved Sora, too, so he understood Jungkook to some extent. But he knew Captain Yoongi's decision was for the better. Jungkook was currently not in the right state of mind. He was grieving. Bloodlust was apparent in his eyes. If he wasn't careful enough, he might ruin this case.

"Go home, Jungkook." Jimin held Jungkook's shoulder firmly, "Or help Taehyung with the arrangement. He's alone and hurting, too."

Right. Jungkook's heart throbbed painfully in his chest as he thought about Taehyung. If anyone's hurting beyond repair right now, it had to be Taehyung. The latter and Sora were like inseparable twins.

Jungkook wanted to see Taehyung after interrogating Falco and Gabi—a form of consolation, if you might. Regrettably, it wasn't possible now, and it was your fault. Nothing ever went Jungkook's way when you were around.

You and Jungkook have known each other since you were kids. You were from the same street in Busan, so it was almost impossible not to see his face daily. You two were even classmates in your schooling days. In fact, you and Jungkook were pretty popular in school, but not for a good reason. 

You two made people want to pull their hair out as you took being rivals too seriously. You argued about the smallest thing, wanting to appear as the stronger one, the smarter one, and the braver one.

But the thing was, your fights with Jungkook were never serious. It was more like teenage bickering. Admittedly, the whole school knew you, Sora, Jungkook, and Taehyung as the Idiot Quartet. Sora and Taehyung played pranks on everyone and did not care much about their academic performance. Meanwhile, you and Jungkook were academic rivals who went out of your way to win against the other. It was so petty that the other students thought you were idiots.

The anger Jungkook felt for you years ago was still apparent today, but he couldn't deny that it changed into something worse.

Hatred.

He'd known you for an ambitious woman who never backed down. You weren't content with your life in Busan and thus moved to Seoul. That part was naturally acceptable. What Jungkook couldn't accept was you casting aside your friendship with Sora for money and power.

You truly exceeded his worst expectations of you. Jungkook clenched his jaw and hands, swearing that you were his enemy from today onwards.

***

Contrary to popular belief, Sora was not an idiot. She had planned not just her life but also her death. This ensured that the living wouldn't be burdened by her passing.

Admittedly, you were involved in the preparations she made. As a lawyer, Sora sought your service to make writing her will easier. It happened three years ago:

Sora recently gave birth to a baby girl named Hanni. The child had blond hair like her father. She was too cute for her own good, so you didn't understand how Sora had the heart to think about death when she had a growing little angel by her side.

It wasn't fair to leave Hanni without a mother in this world.

"This is called safeguarding my baby's future." Sora reasoned out while writing down her 'will.' Her tongue was sticking out, and her brows were pinched together, indicating that she was serious about this ordeal.

It made you sigh.

"Okay! I've finalized the distribution of my...what do you call it again? Estate?"

"Assets." You corrected her firmly. Assets were for the living, and the estate was for the dead. You refused to associate your best friend with anything related to death. It was evident by the way your lips protruded into a sulky pout. You hated having this conversation with her.

"Asset, estate, or whatever you call it. I don't really care as long as it's done. Now, come here and notarize it. I've heard I need a witness when finalizing my will. You are my witness."

"I refuse." You turned away from Sora and busied yourself, caressing Hanni's tiny fist. "Your mum is cruel, isn't she, little one?"

Sora rolled her eyes and huffed, "It's for her sake, you know. Can't you see my situation now? I'm an orphan. My parents died when I could barely say a full sentence."

Sora always felt she inherited the curse of her parents dying young. It was unfair to disregard this thought as she was sure Hanni would be the lonely one carrying the burden once it happened.

"I'm assigning legal guardians for my child. Niccolo is number one, but I can't be too complacent." Sora released a deep breath. She wasn't sure if it was a good thing that her husband was crazy in love with her. It felt like he was willing to follow her even in death.

"Hear that, Hanni? Your mum is giving you away. Say bad, mummy, bad!" You carried Hanni into your arms while glaring at Sora. You couldn't believe your best friend traveled to Seoul with her little child just to say this bullshit.

"Stop being so dramatic," Sora lost count of how many times she had rolled her eyes. "It's not like I'm giving her to a stranger."

"Huh." You wiped Hanni's drool before casting a curious look at her mom, "Who are you naming her guardian, then? Jongsuk and Ji-eun?"

"Nope." Sora sounded disappointed. "I wanted to, but you know how busy they are with their two kids."

"Jongsuk is fucking rich. I'm sure they can afford to feed one more kid." You decided to humor Sora after realizing you couldn't change her mind.

Unfortunately, Sora deflated. "You bet. They have three more children coming."

"What the fuck?" You laid Hanni back in her crib, afraid you'd drop her after Sora dropped a bomb on you. "Are you telling me Ji-eun is pregnant again? And triplets?"

Sora's grin was wide. She wiggled her brows in excitement.

You were dumbfounded. "Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with Jongsuk!?"

Didn't Ji-eun just give birth last year!? What did Jongsuk plan on doing?

"Ah, duh? Have you seen Ji-eun? If I were Jongsuk, I'd do the same."

You pondered for a second. It didn't take you long to agree with your best friend. Damn right, Ji-eun was hot. If you didn't have the unfortunate curse of liking straight men, you bet you'd be pursuing Ji-eun relentlessly. She wasn't just a pretty face. Ji-eun was tantamount to what people called 'The Man.' Perhaps even better than the phrase.

Suddenly, you understood why a certain someone was head over heels with her.

"You're thinking about Jungkook, aren't you?"

You whipped your head up and met Sora's teasing eyes. You were about to refute her absurdity, but she beat you to it.

"Don't deny it. I know your 'I'm thinking about Jungkook' face. It's so obvious! Your brows become one, and your frown couldn't be any deeper!"

"That's right," you relaxed a little. "It's cause I hate him. I can't even crack a fake smile whenever I think about his stupid face."

Your disgusted face wasn't fooling anyone, though. But Sora didn't expose you. She just riled you up, "Well, at least his stupid face is popular with girls. Did you know? Niccolo has been setting Jungkook up with his foreign friends. Ah! Right!" The spark in her eyes was blinding. 

"Jungkook has a blind date tonight. I've heard he's meeting a supermodel from Italy. She's the same—hey, hey! What are you doing!?"

Sora's eyes dilated upon seeing you gripping her baby's toy tightly. She snatched it from you and gasped, "What's gotten you so worked up? You broke Hanni's toy! This is her favorite!" And Jungkook was the one who gave the baby that toy. Sora didn't dare tell you as you might destroy it further.

You wouldn't do it, though. You actually felt guilty for letting out your inexplicable anger to the toy, "Sorry. I'd buy Hanni a new one, yeah?"

"You better!" Sora let it go and went back to drafting her will. She continued pestering you about some law jargon until your head hurt.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop now." Sora put the documents inside a brown box and handed it to you. "Here it is. My final will. I'm giving it to you for safekeeping."

"Huh," you snorted but still accepted the box. You handed Sora a similar package. "I gave you a Christmas present, and I get your will in return? Unfair."

You couldn't help but toss the brown box under your bed. You hoped there wouldn't be a time when you'd be forced to open that damn box.

Sora's eyes creased, "I'll buy you the prettiest present next time, okay?" Then she kissed your cheek, "Thanks for this lovely shirt! I love it so much."

"White suits you the most." You're like my angel, Sora. "I got mine in black so we could match."

"Cool!" Sora turned to her daughter. "You hear that, Hanni? Your Godmother wants to match with me. You need to find someone like her in the future, okay?"

Hanni giggled as if she understood her mother. It warmed your heart seeing them like this. Unfortunately, this precious moment would soon be taken away from them.

Come to think of it, everything that transpired three years ago was like a sick premonition of what would happen tonight. Wasn't it funny? Sora died wearing the clothes you'd gifted her, and now here you were, forced to open the brown box you hated with passion.

Sora prepared everything. Inside the box were her will and handwritten letters for her daughter and friends. Unsurprisingly, she didn't leave a note for Niccolo.

It's like Sora knew.

"I hate you," you whimpered lowly as you hugged Sora's letter. I hate you for leaving me. I hate you for being right. I hate you. I hate you so much, Kang Sora.

***

Since Sora was an orphan, Taehyung, as her friend, was qualified to make the arrangements for her and her husband's remains. This was also because he was the one who registered their death after Doctor Kim Seokjin announced the time of their passing.

Jungkook wanted to help Taehyung out, but Taehyung said he could handle it himself and that it would be better for Jungkook to care for Hanni instead.

Hanni was at home with her temporary babysitter. Niccolo was a chef at his restaurant, while Sora was the head manager there. They usually didn't have enough time to care for Hanni, so they hired a nighttime caregiver for their kid. Hanni attended daycare in the morning, which was one less worry for her parents.

The babysitter's shift ended a few hours ago, though. Jungkook had no choice but to rush to the Kang' residence.

Jungkook had an apology ready at the tip of his tongue and thousands of won to appease the babysitter for working overtime. He was surprised when he didn't see the cute babysitter and instead saw a temptress wearing a suit.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jungkook spat as he raised his guard up. Who else could he be talking to besides you? You were the only person who could annoy him until steam came off his ears.

Weren't you just at the police station? Jungkook quickly glanced at his wristwatch. The time was 10:15pm. You arrived to wreak havoc in the interrogation room at around 9:00pm. Were you that good of a lawyer to escape Captain Yoongi's inquest in just an hour?

Looking at you, it seemed you had been here for quite some time now. Hanni happily snuggled in your arms while sucking on her milk bottle. The baby looked sleepy, unaware that her parents had already crossed the afterlife road.

Jungkook felt his heart tighten. Did you go here to use Hanni as leverage to help free those damned murderers? Thinking about your menacing schemes, Jungkook couldn't help but raise his hand to snatch Hanni away from your embrace.

"Let go of Hanni now!" Jungkook gnashed his teeth, deliberating on calling the police on you, but then he remembered he was also a police officer. Right. If he wanted to, he could arrest you for using an innocent kid to your advantage.

"Will you stop being so dramatic?" you recognized Jungkook's intention, so you rolled your eyes at his stupidity. You also laid Hanni back inside her crib but didn't do it to appease Jungkook. It was because your arms were starting to get numb from carrying her—not to mention that your chest was covered in Hanni's spilled milk, too.

Jungkook's line of sight focused on your chest, not knowing what to make out of it as you gently wipe the milk with your bare hand.

You pretended not to see him swallowing thickly and struggling to look away from you. "Relax, will you? Your tiny brain might not comprehend it, but I'm telling you now. I am not here to harm Hanni. I'm her godparent, after all—just like you."

Your busy work schedule did not allow you to see Hanni all the time, but Sora made sure to video call you whenever she had the chance. Frankly speaking, seeing your goddaughter after a tiring day calmed you down. Hanni was your sweet butterfly. You loved her to death.

"And for the record, I am not representing Gabi and Falco in court."

Your sharp tone made Jungkook stop. His intense gaze studied you. This time, your face wasn't devoid of emotions. He could see fire in your eyes—as if you were ready to burn anyone who dared oppose you.

"T-Then," Jungkook's Adam's apple bobbed, "Why'd you destroy my evidence?" It took him hours to force confessions out of those bastards. He doubted that was enough as Falco and Gabi kept protecting each other, but still...

"How are you even a police lieutenant? Did Chief Kim bump his head before promoting you?"

Jungkook was offended and wanted to argue, but you gave him no chance.

"The evidence you've gathered is inadmissible to court. It's fucking illegal, idiot. Those brats could've filed a case against you if I hadn't destroyed the evidence of your idiocy."

Simply put, you had protected Jungkook from incrimination. "What happened to the Jungkook I know? Didn't you always hate Jongsuk Lee for being a suicidal maniac?"

The Idiot Quartet was good friends with Jongsuk and Ji-eun, too. You had known them since childhood. If your group was called the Idiot Quartet, then Ji-eun, Jongsuk, and Jimin were known as the Powerhouse Trio. The three were good in academics and sports, but Jongsuk fell short of a good attitude. Jongsuk was ridiculously impatient that he would not hesitate to charge recklessly, even at the expense of his life. Jongsuk was a police officer like Jungkook. It was just that Chief Namjoon Kim assigned Jongsuk to the special operation squad.

Jongsuk was a sore spot for Jungkook as it seemed like whatever Jungkook wanted, Jongsuk had. 

Truth be told, Jungkook scoffed at the mention of Jongsuk's name. He glared at you, "I'm nothing like that suicidal maniac. Don't compare me to him." 

You shrugged and did not push it. Fighting Jungkook tonight was not worthy of your time. There was a more pressing issue to discuss.

"Anyway, I'm not involved with Gabi and Falco anymore. You can rest assured."

Jungkook didn't want to fight you either. He was tired. He only wanted to honor his dead best friend. "It's good that you didn't completely stray the wrong path."

Surprisingly, the seed of hatred Jungkook planted in his heart had been dug up at the speed of light. You see, he wasn't muddle-headed like you claimed. Jungkook got irritated by your mere presence and sharp mouth, but hating someone without apparent reason was beyond him.

Maybe he could trust you? Thinking about this, Jungkook tried to push his luck, "So, if you aren't going to be those brats' lawyer, does it mean you came here to represent Sora and Niccolo?"

You just said you did not want to fight him, but on God, was he testing your patience. It took everything in you not to mock him, "I am a defense lawyer, smart-ass. This is a criminal case; it's those brats against the general public. Sora and Niccolo must be represented by a prosecutor. I trust you know the difference between a pro—"

"I know! I get it already. Stop it." Jungkook's cheeks turned crimson when he realized his mistake. His brain must have short-circuited because of the awkwardness and the milk on your chest—damn it, there was still traces of milk in your cleavage.

Jungkook forced himself to look away, making the corner of your lips turn up. 

"It's Ji-eun." You said abruptly and without context. Jungkook looked at you, confused.

You sighed, "Ji-eun is a prosecutor, which I'm guessing you're very familiar with."

Of course, Jungkook knew precisely what Ji-eun did for a living. It was the main reason Jungkook fell in love with Ji-eun—he thought she was cool for upholding justice.

Jungkook had this illusion that he and Ji-eun complemented each other, mainly because both their line of work involved helping ordinary people. It was the complete opposite of what you do. In Jungkook's vocabulary, you were a scum—defending criminals who ruined the balance of the world.

"I called Ji-eun earlier. She agreed, but we have yet to discuss the details. The legalities of the case can be postponed for now. There's something urgent we need to address first." Jungkook recognized the seriousness in your tone. He furrowed a brow and listened to you intently.

"Sora named me as the executor of her will." Your face turned solemn, side glancing at Hanni, who was sound asleep. Your heart ached for her. "She has written notes to everyone, including us."

Jungkook watched you pick up a brown box on the floor. That's when he noticed the suitcase next to it.

Wait—Jungkook's eyes shrunk. Is that your suitcase?

His question was soon answered when you handed Sora's letter to him. Jungkook immediately tore it open, skimming through its contents.

His eyes widened comically upon reading the most ridiculous request of all times:

Sora was leaving Hanni in your and Jungkook's care.

What the fuck.

***

Taehyung felt floating as he took the way to Sora's house. It was past ten in the evening, meaning it took him hours to arrange Sora and Niccolo's funeral.

He was physically exhausted from having to go from place to place. Fortunately, he had a bit of time to rest since Sora and Niccolo's bodies were still at the mortuary. Taehyung thought he'd check up on Hanni first, then ask Jungkook to tidy the Kang' residence to make it a decent place to hold the wake. Sadly, Taehyung's plans went haywire as soon as he stepped inside the house.

"Oh, yeah? Why don't you tell that to yourself, you mama's boy!? I'm not the one who has an Oedipus complex!"

Taehyung watched as Jungkook's complexion turned red because of anger. He rolled the sleeves of his police uniform, seemingly ready to fight you.

"Well, fuck you and your mommy issues. Just admit you're jealous I have a kind mom. It's not my fault your mom only loves you whenever you achieve something that will boost her ego!"

Violence was never the answer, but you couldn't help but pick up one of Hanni's toys and throw it at Jungkook's broad chest. You screamed at him, "What the fuck is wrong with you!?" He was hitting you where it hurt.

"No, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Jungkook threw the question back at you. You were the one who pissed him off first.

Sadly, Taehyung did not care whose fault it was. He just wanted this petty fight to end, so he screamed before you or Jungkook started going at each other again.

"What the hell is happening here?" Taehyung was the type of friend who goofed around a lot, though no one could deny he was the most scary when angered. Just the sound of his voice was enough to stain your and Jungkook's back with cold sweat. Almost at once, Jungkook kept his mouth shut.

Conversely, you smiled awkwardly at Taehyung and acted oblivious, "Hi, Taehyung. Didn't see you there."

Jungkook held back a scoff at how fast you changed your annoying tone to a saccharine one. Your eyes even crinkled with fondness. Damn it. You were such a great pretender! Weren't you just acting like a dragon and breathing fire in Jungkook's direction? Taehyung saw it, too, preventing you from escaping this mess.

"How can you see me when you're busy fighting Jungkook again?" Taehyung huffed and shook his head in disappointment, "You two never changed, do you? To think of fighting in the presence of your dead best friend's kid. Have you no shame?"

As said, it was common knowledge not to anger Taehyung, yet no one warned you how scary he was when he couldn't bring himself to be angry anymore. Right now, Taehyung was just tired of your bullshit.

Remorse seeped into your heart. Truth be told, you knew where Taehyung was coming from. You and Jungkook were both adults, yet you failed to act like one. You didn't even know how your fight started. All you remembered was Jungkook vehemently opposing Sora's decision to leave Hanni to you and his care.

He thought you were undeserving of looking after a small child. You got mad, saying he had high expectations for female guardians because of his weird relationship with his mother.

Of course, it wasn't true. But you were so pissed you couldn't stop spouting nonsense. Truthfully, you could have gone forever with your insults had it not been for Taehyung's arrival.

"Don't take it seriously, Taehyung. We're just fooling around to cheer up Hanni. We thought some loud noises would divert her attention to something else." Jungkook added unhelpfully.

Taehyung pressed his lips into a thin line and looked at Hanni, who was sleeping peacefully: "...."

"Haha," You laughed in embarrassment and were forced to playfully smack Jungkook's biceps. "See? Our loudness helped Hanni sleep. Didn't Sora always sing her a goodnight song? We did it too!"

"Yes!" Jungkook gathered some files on the floor. The both of you had thrown them in the midst of fighting. The Kang' residence was a mess because of you two's silliness.

"Anyway, didn't you say the wake will be held here? Why don't you rest first? We'll take it from here. Right, Jungkook?"

Taehyung watched the two of you for a while before resigning to the guest room. He heard your whispered sighs but didn't mind as you quickly resolved it with a temporary truce.

Taehyung sighed and looked at the white ceiling. The tears he had repressed all night finally cascaded down his cheeks.

He sobbed quietly and thought about the dead, "You really have idiots as your best friends, Sora."

***

Sora and Niccolo's wake would be held for one day only. Tomorrow was the scheduled funeral, so all the departed's friends gathered at the Kang' residence for the final goodbye. You and Jungkook behaved this time—your temporary truce helped you welcome the guests without hiccups.

Ji-eun and Jongsuk arrived in the morning with their five children. It was a blessing in disguise, really. Jongsuk took care of the kids, including Hanni, while you and Ji-eun discussed the legalities of the case filed against Gabi and Falco. Captain Yoongi joined the discussion, too.

Yoongi lived in your neighborhood as well. He used to teach kids your age some self-defense tricks. He was specifically fond of Sora as she made unconventional defenses easier to execute. Looking back, you realize Sora was the glue holding the group together. There were moments you couldn't tolerate the extremity of Captain Yoongi's training, but Sora persuaded you and the others to be more patient and courageous.

"Thanks for doing this, Captain." You smiled softly at Yoongi. He merely raised a brow, drank his tea, and said, "Not a problem. This isn't a formal discussion."

The Captain didn't want to disrespect the solemnity of the wake, so he invited you and Ji-eun to talk in his office after the funeral. He only joined today's talk to say some urgent matters.

"I thought you should know beforehand that we have a strong case, mainly because the incident was captured by cameras. However, we have a formidable opponent. Annie Leonhart is defending those brats in court."

Your stomach knotted with bitterness upon hearing that. Annie Leonhart was indeed a formidable lawyer. However, you couldn't deny that your heart felt at ease when you met Ji-eun's unyielding gaze. Yes, you couldn't forget that this prosecutor never lost a case. She would do Sora justice.

It wouldn't be too difficult as long as dumb people didn't interfere. 

Jungkook. Your brain immediately thought of Jungkook as he was the only one you could associate with the word dumb.

Just like now, Jungkook was standing in the corner of the room while staring at your group dumbly—scratch that, it was obvious he had his puppy eyes focused on Ji-eun.

You rolled your eyes. Of fucking course. How could you forget that this dumbass was in love with Prosecutor Lee? Did the fact that she was already married ever stop Jungkook from pining after Ji-eun? No.

"Attorney, Captain, will you excuse me for a moment?" You gritted your teeth while your gaze was still trained on Jungkook. The two Mins did not hold you back, making it easier for you to instantly trudge over Jungkook's direction.

"Hey, loser. I wanted to quote Article 333 of the family code for you, but then I remembered Ji-eun will never commit adultery, more so if it's with your sorry ass." You smirked at Jungkook, rage still boiling within you.

You were not the only one annoyed, though. Jungkook looked at you in disbelief; his eyebrows pinched together as he huffed, "What is it this time? I'm not doing anything!"

"You're not fooling anyone here, asshole. Don't think for a moment that I don't see you looking pathetically at Mrs. Lee."

"The heck are you on?"

"That you're in love with Ji-eun? That's the only reason why you're looking in our direction." You rolled your eyes, looking smug. "Unless you had a change of heart and are now pining after Captain Yoongi—which I'm not opposed to, by the way. I'm all for gay rights. You might be too late, though. I think he's a little too in love with your Chief Police Kim."

You shook your head in pity for Jungkook. Ji-eun and Yoongi were cousins. Why did Jungkook seem to only like Mins, who were already in love with someone else?

"Will you shut up?" Jungkook's jaw ticked. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He looked panicked.

You snickered, "Oh, no. Is Jungkook-boy shy—" 

"I'm looking at you, damn it!" Jungkook seized your wrist and pulled you closer to him. From the outside's point of view, it looked like Jungkook was some gang leader bullying a helpless girl. But that's the thing. Only his looks were imposing—Jungkook's grey suit perfectly hugged his toned body. His hairstyle drastically changed since your teenage years, too. Per the police officer standard, Jungkook was now sporting an undercut that made his jaw look more chiseled. His aura was intimidating, but only you knew how gently he had pulled you close to his body.

Jungkook whispered into your ears, "I'm worried, alright? I need your help. Can you see those two women sitting by the window? They've been here since morning, and they're watching you and me—us. I don't seem to recall their faces. Sora and Niccolo were not related to them in any way either."

Jungkook had met the people around the married couple. He knew even the customers in Sora and Niccolo's restaurant. This was the first time Jungkook was seeing these women.

You were alerted, too. It was uncommon for strangers to attend the departed's wake, so these two women could either be from Falco and Gabi's side or...

Your eyes widened at the sudden realization. Unfortunately, before you could warn Jungkook, the two ladies had already noticed your gaze and immediately walked in your direction.

"Hi there. My name is Frieda, and this is my coworker, Ms. Kiyomi. We're social workers assigned by the local government to check on orphans."

"It's nice to meet you." Thankfully, you had no problems switching gears. Being a lawyer taught you to fake pleasantries despite shaking on the inside. As expected, these two women were social workers here to see Hanni's condition. Regrettably, you had failed to discuss this earlier with Jungkook.

"I know this is not the best time to visit, but we're just concerned about the little girl. Hanni, that's her name, right?" Kiyomi was an old woman who appeared strict and conservative. Her smile made your eyes twitch. "I take it you're the host of this wake. Do you mind sharing with us if Mr. Niccolo and his wife assigned a legal guardian for Hanni?"

"Legal guardians, actually." You mirrored Kiyomi's smile. "I'm the family's lawyer and Sora's childhood best friend. She has left her notarized will with me. I can send you both the hard and soft copy any time."

"That's good to hear," Frieda answered, "But right now, we want to personally meet the assigned guardians. Where is Hanni, by the way?"

"Hanni is sleeping in her room with SWAT officer Lee's children, right, babe?"

"Huh?" Jungkook asked dumbly when he felt your hand encircling his biceps. To say he was shocked by your term of endearment would be an understatement because what the fuck? Did you just call him babe?

"A little absentminded, are we?" You chuckled awkwardly and pinched Jungkook's biceps 'lovingly' Damn, was he ripped. "Forgive my fiancé, lovely ladies. He's just a bit tired after pulling an all-nighter to arrange our best friends' wake and trying to pacify little Hanni."

"Oh," Kiyomi's eyes lit up. "You're the assigned guardians, I suppose?"

"Yes, we are." You felt Jungkook stiffen when you leaned your head onto his biceps. You originally wanted to lean on his shoulder, but he was too tall. You guessed it didn't matter as long as you had skin contact with Jungkook.

Kiyomi didn't seem to be convinced, though. Her keen eyes wandered over yours and Jungkook's empty ring fingers.

"Ah!" You grabbed Jungkook's left hand and intertwined your fingers with his. "We removed our engagement rings for now. You know, Hanni's at the age where she just likes sucking onto everything. You can't have a kid swallowing a diamond, can you?"

The two women laughed at your lame joke. Meanwhile, Jungkook's face still couldn't be painted. Every part of his being urged him to push you away, but he had a hunch that would be unwise.

Jungkook looked at the two ladies before side-eyeing you. He felt like losing to a sick game, which didn't sit well with him. Jungkook hated it when you were one step ahead, so he played your game despite not knowing the rules.

He grabbed your interlaced fingers and kissed them. "Don't worry, hon. The ring is just for aesthetic purposes. I am still yours without it."

"Oh, my. What a lovely couple!" Kiyomi finally fell into your gimmick. She rubbed her chest as if what she saw warmed her heart, "It's getting late. People are coming, why don't you go and welcome them? Frieda and I are just leaving."

You calmed your beating heart before answering the old lady, "Don't you wanna see Hanni first?"

Frieda and Kiyomi fell silent and seemed to be hesitant. Hearing SWAT officer Lee's name actually scared them. They were afraid of offending Jongsuk. Kids were especially fussy when their nap was disturbed, yes?

"No need. We have already imposed too much. Why don't we schedule a meeting after the funeral?" Frieda raised her brow.

"Sounds lovely. Wait a second. We'll give you our contact information."

The two social workers finally left after exchanging contact details and a few more pleasantries. Your hand was still enveloped by Jungkook's big, warm hand. He took this as an opportunity to lightly drag you into an empty room.

"What the hell just happened there?" For someone who's confused, Jungkook sure enjoyed holding your hand. His grip tightened when you laughed mockingly.

"You called me hon—cringe, by the way—but you can't grasp what happened there? Are you for real?"

"Just answer the damn question!" Jungkook's ears were red. He swore he wasn't stupid. You were just making him appear to be like that. "And as if you're any better. Calling me babe, really? And fiancé? Who the hell wants to marry you!?"

"Let go!" You wriggled out of his grasp, yet Jungkook did not let you go. He pulled you close to him and stared at you intently.

"No." Jungkook jutted his chin. "Not unless you explain what that was all about."

Looking at Jungkook's eyes made you shudder. You knew him. He was stubborn. Seeing the determination in his eyes, you realized it was wise not to tease him any further. Jungkook was many things, but he never joked about romantic feelings. Call it old school, but he already regretted playing your game. How could he forget how much of a menace you were?

"I'm not making fun of you, alright? I had to pretend we're lovers, for Hanni's sake." You explained to Jungkook that most social workers were vicious when doing their jobs. Kiyomi was an old lady. Of course, she'd prefer to see Hanni with a loving and complete family as her guardians. She had the power to manipulate the judge's decision. You were afraid she would suggest assigning Hanni to strangers who could give her an illusion of a 'happy family.'

"So are you saying we have to pretend we're dating in front of those social workers?" Jungkook wasn't unreasonable. He was willing to hear your ridiculous idea if this meant keeping Hanni in a safe space.

"Well," you sighed in lament. "Not just in front of the social workers, unfortunately. Kiyomi and Frieda might interview anyone in our circle. It will be bad if they find out we're lying, worse, that we hate each other."

"I don't hate you, though." Jungkook's response was immediate. He creased his forehead as if not understanding what you said. "But I find you extremely annoying."

"The feeling is mutual." You exerted all your energy to wriggle out of his grasp. 

Jungkook smirked and thought of getting back at you for getting him all flustered before those social workers, "Eh? Are you getting sick of my touch already? Careful. We might have to do more than hold hands to convince people we're to be married."

"You are so..." You trailed off because of irritation. "Irrational and a hypocrite! Don't you hate faking romantic things with me?" And aren't you in love with Ji-eun?

Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly; a smirk was still plastered on his lips. "I adapt fast. I can tolerate your annoying face, for Hanni's sake." 

He pinched your cheek.

You slapped his hand away and squared your shoulders. Damn you, Jungkook Jeon.

"Bring it on, then."

***

Bullshit.

Your claim against Jungkook to 'bring it on" was complete and utter bullshit. Not only was it difficult, but it was also unrealistic and close to being impossible. Truthfully, you two did not feel it at once, mainly because you were busy with the funeral and had your other friends help you with Hanni.

Now, however...

"Terni, I'm sorry," Hanni's bright eyes glistened with tears as she stared at you. She was only three, but surprisingly, she could already pronounce words clearly—except maybe the word attorney.

Sora told her daughter to call you 'Attorney' so the little one could brag to people about having a cool godmother who was a lawyer. Hanni was an intelligent child. Admittedly, you suspected she could actually pronounce the word attorney correctly. She simply preferred calling you Terni as it was cuter and perhaps because it was easier to escape your wrath.

Hanni accidentally spilled a full glass of her favorite chocolate drink on your work documents. These were all related to the cases you told your secretary to cancel when you found out Sora died. Unfortunately, your words held no weight as you still needed to take on these cases—whether you wanted to or not. Besides, your mourning period was coming to an end. Sora and Niccolo had found their resting place already. Your only worry was Hanni and your pending cases.

"It's okay, darling." The side of your upper lip twitched while you threw the files in the trash bin. You kept reminding yourself that lashing out at a three-year-old kid was unreasonable. 

'But it's not unreasonable to displace your anger to a certain police lieutenant.' The voice inside your head supplied. You smirked, feeling enlightened. Obviously, you were going to listen to the voice. Every chance you got to annoy Jungkook was gold.

"Why don't I put you in your crib first? Terni will just talk to Jungkook-boy, okay?"

Because she knew she was at fault here, Hanni nodded and let you carry her back to her room. The Kang' residence was quite big. You, Hanni, and Jungkook each had your own rooms. The master bedroom remained untouched, though. You didn't have the heart to invade the late couple's personal space. Besides, you were only temporarily residing here. This was not your house, and Hanni was not your child—you weren't even fully recognized by the court as Hanni's guardian. This could all be taken away from you sooner or later.

It was better not to get attached and keep things as they were. Taking this into consideration, you went to the kitchen to annoy Jungkook. Unfortunately, you were only able to say a few words before your face and mind blanked out. Clearly, no one prepared you on how to react seeing Jungkook buzzing around the kitchen while washing dishes—the same dishes you and Hanni used for breakfast this morning.

Jungkook wore washing gloves; soap suds painted his left cheek while pots and plates surrounded him. 

"What'd you say again?" Jungkook spared you a glance, washing the mug you used for coffee earlier.

You swallowed thickly and forced your eyes away from the dishes. You originally wanted to chastise him for slacking off and not bringing Hanni to the daycare center on time. If Hanni was at the daycare, then your files wouldn't get soaked up in a chocolate drink in the first place. You couldn't blame him now, could you? Not when he was busy cleaning the kitchen after preparing breakfast for you and Hanni.

In your defense, you did not ask him to cook for you, too. You woke up with the smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs wafting inside your room. Of course, you got up to scold him for not turning on the exhaust hood.

"You're awake?" You remembered Jungkook raising a brow upon seeing you. Hanni was already sitting on her high chair; her mouth was watering because of how good her breakfast smelled. "Come on, join us for breakfast."

You swallowed the insults at the tip of your tongue as Jungkook placed two big plates and a small one on the table.

"I don't eat breakfast," you said indifferently. It was true. When you reach your office, your secretary will have a cup of macadamia-flavored coffee ready. That was the only thing you had for breakfast. It had probably been years since you'd eaten anything solid during the morning.

Jungkook seemed to misunderstand your response, though. He thought you just didn't like to eat what he cooked. He taunted you, "There's no poison here, Empress. Your lowly male concubines have tasted the food for you."

To demonstrate, Jungkook swallowed a spoonful of bacon and pancakes.

"You're mistaken. You are no concubine of mine." You sneered but took a seat to eat. "You're merely my eunuch."

Teenager Jungkook would have turned red-faced and just cussed you out, but he grew up, and those blind dates with countless supermodels had improved his confidence. Jungkook pressed his hand on the table and peered down at you. His broad chest was inches away from your face.

"Now, that would be misleading, Empress. Can a eunuch have this?" He didn't use words, merely gesturing toward himself, particularly on the lower portion of his body.

The teenager you would have turned pissed and just cussed Jungkook out, but despite maturing into an adult woman, you still couldn't handle jokes like this, causing your face to turn scarlet.

Jungkook chuckled at your reaction but didn't push you anymore. He liked pressing your buttons, though not to the point of making you uncomfortable. He was not an ass.

"Let's just eat, alright?"

Jungkook happily agreed and put some food on your plate. You merely glanced at it before playing it cool by opening up another topic, "It's your turn to send Hanni to daycare today, right? Her class is at 7am. Her teacher said she could go back to class but is welcome to extend her break."

Hanni's parents just died, after all. Besides, it wasn't a formal school. The daycare was established as a consideration for children who had working parents.

"Yes, I'll bathe her today. too, then we'll go to the center after." Jungkook smeared maple syrup on Hanni's pancakes. He had added finely cut grapes on top of it as he was afraid Hanni would choke on the circled fruit.

"Good. I'll finish some work today," you said as a form of respect.

You and Jungkook decided to co-parent Hanni and see if you could commit to it. Jungkook was assigned to take care of Hanni from Monday to Wednesday. Meanwhile, your schedule was from Thursday to Saturday. This included sending Hanni to school, feeding, bathing, and playing with her. Sunday was your only free day, as Hanni would be in the care of your friends. Captain Yoongi and Chief Namjoon said they'd bring Hanni out to play this Sunday.

It was a relief, really. You need to go back to Seoul this Sunday to finish some work and formally announce to your subordinates and clients that you will be moving to Busan for the time being. Your schedule this week was jampacked. Fortunately, Kiyomi and Frieda postponed the meeting and said they would inform you at their earliest convenience. As it turned out, those social workers weren't utterly heartless as they intended to give you and Jungkook a breather until the settlement of Sora and Niccolo's case.

Right. That was another concern of yours. You turned to Jungkook, "What time is your lunch break? I'm meeting up with Prosecutor Lee and Captain Yoongi this afternoon. Wanna join us?"

You and Jungkook played well when you were teaming up instead of being rivals. He shook his head in lament, "I can't. I have to finish some work at the station too. Just fill me in with the details later."

"Alright." You continued eating after that. Surprisingly, the breakfast with Hanni and Jungkook went well. Your morning would have been perfect hadn't been for Hanni messing up your files—which led you back to staring dumbly at Jungkook, who was still busy cleaning up the kitchen.

It was past seven in the morning. You were busy working and weren't able to track time. "Didn't you say you would send Hanni to daycare today? Why haven't you?"

"Oh." Jungkook scratched the back of his head. "I called the teacher and informed her that Hanni isn't coming today." Jungkook let Hanni walk around the house and find you. He guessed it was his fault for having too much confidence in a three-year-old kid. Of course, giving Hanni a chocolate drink wasn't a guarantee that she would be able to tell you she wasn't going to school today. Jungkook was too much of a pussy to tell you himself. He knew how you were when working. You would breathe fire at him for disturbing you.

"Why, though?" You puffed out air, "We can't keep doing this, you know? Hanni needs to socialize with other people." It wasn't that you wanted Hanni to forget her parents, but lately, Hanni had been asking where her mum and dad went. You and Jungkook hadn't discussed a healthy way to go over such a sensitive topic. Besides, you and Jungkook were working adults who needed time to do their jobs. You couldn't spend all day looking after Hanni.

"I know, but she sneezed twice this morning. It's already so cold outside. What if she catches the flu?"

"Oh, my gosh, you overprotective dumbass." You rolled your eyes at Jungkook, but the latter shrugged it off. You could call him whatever you wanted. However, he couldn't risk his goddaughter getting sick.

"I'll go to work in a while and drop by Hanni's doctor after my shift. I'll inquire about her medical records and see if we can get her a flu vaccine. Don't worry," Jungkook's eyes were thoughtful. "It's Monday, so I'll take care of everything myself. You can go to work today. I'll just text you if something comes up."

The day wasn't even halfway done, but you found yourself agreeing to Jungkook without a need for a fight. This was new, and you found it surprisingly refreshing.

"Fine." You acquiesced as the urge to blame him for your soaked files disappeared. Maybe you were wrong—maybe, just maybe, co-parenting Hanni with Jungkook wasn't as bad as you imagined.

***

Your afternoon turned out to be hectic, so the meeting with the two Mins was pushed to 3pm. Captain Yoongi invited you to a tea shop as it was quieter there.

"I personally think we have no shot in filing a murder case against those brats." Chamomile tea wasn't enough to calm you down as you looked at the crime pictures again.

Sora was sprawled on the cold ground; the pool of blood made you wanna puke. It didn't help that Ji-eun was drinking a strawberry-flavored tea.

"You're right. Given the elements of a murder, two are not present. Mens rea and actus rus," Ji-eun voiced out the legal terms. According to Captain Yoongi, Gabi and Falco gave consistent explanations during the interrogation. It was similar to what they told your secretary.

The teens did not intend to kill Sora and her husband. They were merely trying throttle therapy, which, unfortunately, went wrong.

Falco said he switched lanes to avoid crashing into a car maneuvering into a U-turn. It just happened that Sora and Niccolo were crossing the street before Falco could step on the break.

"I think that's what Jungkook did when he forced confessions from the brats. He wanted them to admit to murdering Sora and Niccolo so they could get the maximum penalty. However, I can tell it was an accident. We can only file for reckless imprudence resulting in multiple homicides." Captain Yoongi held his cup tightly, an indication that he was angry at what happened but couldn't do anything about it.

"That's my plan, but I think Annie Leonhart will reduce her clients' charges to manslaughter."

Manslaughter? Yoongi's brow creased. He wasn't a lawyer, so naturally, he couldn't immediately follow the logic behind the prosecutor's words.

You explained it to him, "It means Annie is a bitch, Captain. Based on my assumption, I bet she'll fake some medical records and say Falco took some kind of drug to help with his mental health issues." She would make it appear that Falco was unaware the drug given to him could cause hallucinations, confusion, and probably a loss of energy. "Or she'll have the clients' families pay a random person to confess tampering with Falco's car, hence the break not working. Either way, Attorney Leonhart will find a scapegoat and make it appear that what Gabi and Falco did was unintentional."

"You're so familiar with these tactics, aren't you?" Yoongi knitted his brow. In return, you tilted your head to the side as if to show a 'what can I say' attitude. The Captain was not wrong. You were also familiar with the techniques you mentioned because you were a defense lawyer.

Ji-eun wasn't bothered. She figured out the logic behind your tactics. She clasped her hands and said, "Captain Yoongi called me on the day of the incident. I've sent some people to subject Falco and Gabi to medical examinations. No need to fret. The results will show if they've taken any drugs. There were two more independent examiners, so they can't accuse us of faking the results." 

Good. Your shoulders relaxed upon hearing that. Ji-eun continued, "We must pay attention to the other excuse Annie might choose." Prosecutor Lee emphasized how affluent the Braun and Grice families were. It would be easy for them to fake 'dispute' with people, forcing them to tamper with the car Falco drove. "Captain, my cousin-in-law is good friends with this case's judge, correct? I need your help with evidence submitted before the trial. I need time to study the witnesses, too."

"Cousin-in-law?" Ji-eun said many things, but this was the only thing Yoongi grasped. The Captain was not married yet. Who could Ji-eun be referring to as her cousin-in-law?

"Chief Police Namjoon Kim." Prosecutor Lee said with a face vacant of any emotions that even the hard-to-faze Yoongi almost spit his tea. You laughed heartily. Oh, men and their poor attempt to conceal their feelings. It was hilarious when boys fell in love. They looked like idiots who seemed to forget how to navigate life.

"Namjoon is not your cousin-in-law...yet," Yoongi cleared his throat. "But yes, he will be...helping you with anything you need with the case. Just send either one of us a text or go to our house. Make sure to bring Rin when you visit."

Rin was Ji-eun and Jongsuk's eldest son and Yoongi's favorite. He spoiled that kid rotten. You adored that kid, too. Admittedly, your topic switched to the Lee kids, and you also took this time to ask Ji-eun for tips on caring for a small child.

The sun had already set by the time your meeting ended. A fond smile was still plastered on your lips long after the Ji-eun and Yoongi left, but it didn't take long for your smile to disappear once you heard your phone buzz.

Someone had sent you a message. The number wasn't saved in your contacts, but the previous messages gave you a clue about who it was.

Unknown number:

Seoul is colder now that you're not here. I miss you.

You stared at the message for some time, then sighed as if accepting defeat. You scrolled through your contacts and called the one named 'Eunuch Jungkook.'

"What can I do for you, Empress?" Jungkook answered after two rings. His tone carried some teasing, which eased your heart a little.

"Something came up. I'm going back to Seoul tonight. My secretary said she needs help—"

"Alright," Jungkook responded softly before you could finish your excuse. You did not need to explain to him. Jungkook understood your line of work. He couldn't hold it against you. Besides, it's Monday. He could care for Hanni himself. "Just text me when you'll be back. And don't you dare forget to bring back some monjayaki for me and Hanni!"

"Fine, fine." You rolled your eyes, feigning irritation. "I'll see you soon."

"Good. Take care." Jungkook had you talk to Hanni for a few minutes before hanging up. After that, you booked a car to drive you back to Seoul. This was better than a subway. After all, you need to conserve energy to talk to that one person.

You sighed. This would definitely be a long night...

***

Mina bombarded you with workloads the second you stepped foot in your office in Seoul. 

"I'm sorry, Attorney." Mina was apologetic when she handed you the documents. "You need to attend to one more hearing tomorrow." 

"Another business dispute?" You looked at your secretary in disbelief. Seriously? All the cases you have been handling these past couple of days were related to businesses dealing with trademark infringement and violating the labor code. It was a surprise that these business owners still trusted you. Admittedly, you thought most of your clients would withdraw now that you didn't have the support of the Braun and Grice families.

"Yes, your client refused to settle as they did not want to pay the amount demanded by the other party."

You scoffed. Those greedy assholes. They had the nerve to ignore the labor law but couldn't face the consequences of their actions?

"Tell my client I'm meeting them in an hour. Either that or they can go find another lawyer." You would 'persuade' them to settle out of court today as you couldn't attend tomorrow's hearing. You were in a hurry to return to Busan since it was already Sunday. Jungkook had been caring for Hanni the whole week, which made you feel guilty. Jungkook had another role he needed to fulfill aside from being Hanni's guardian. What kind of person were you if you kept on holding him back?

Besides, there was still another person you must meet today. Thankfully, you were able to convince your client to settle, although you were not proud of the method you used to persuade them. Eh. You guessed it didn't matter because you finally told Jungkook you were heading back to Busan tonight.

"Who're you texting?" The last person you met tonight was him—him, as in the one who claimed to 'miss you' but whose number was still unregistered to your phone.

"Work," you replied indifferently before switching off your phone. You will read Jungkook's message later. For now, you had to deal with this annoying bastard.

"You'll go back to Busan tonight?" He sounded unhappy. Rico Braun had always been like this—too clingy—too whiny. You'd think he was obsessed with you if you didn't know any better. But that's the thing. You were aware of what kind of guy he was. He liked having a successful woman by his side, someone he could brag to his family and friends. You fit his criteria well—a beautiful woman who worked hard for a better life. It was a bonus that the Braun family liked you for Rico, too.

"I already told you," you pushed Rico's hand that was about to encircle your waist. "I'll be staying in Busan for a while. I only went back here to finish some work and to say some things to you."

Rico's eyes sparkled in anticipation. He claimed to be wise, but he couldn't even detect the coldness in your tone. You did not want him. "I've said this before, and I'm saying this again: whatever romantic idea you have about the two of us will never manifest. I can't be your girlfriend, okay?"

Rico wanted to argue, but you cut him off.

"It's not an invitation for you to ask me to be your wife. I don't like you anymore, Rico." Sometimes, being honest was the only way to save your future self from more trouble. Rico had been bugging you since your college days. There was one time you considered dating him—thinking it was for the better—that a ruthless lawyer like you was perfect for a narcissistic boy like him.

"This is also the last time I'm meeting with you. From now on, do not bother me. Your family is not connected with me anymore, either. They probably hate me." Rico was Gabi's older brother. How this person still had the audacity to meet you after what his sibling did to your best friend was beyond you. "Are we clear on this matter?"

Rico's face was impassive, acting as if the news you dropped did not concern him. He crinkled his eyes, "Well, then. It's getting late. I can't have you take the train at this hour, right? Come. I'll drive you to Busan."

"No need." You were about to walk away, but Rico seized your wrist.

His lips twitched. "I insist. Please? For old time's sake."

There was no winning when it came to this blockhead. You relented when he promised this would be the last time he'd ask to drive you. He said he was going back to the U.S. next week, anyway.

The drive back to Busan was fortunately short. Rico drove safely and did not insist on talking while on the road. You imagined being friends with him after what happened with Sora, but you just couldn't do it.

You and Rico had a fair share of understanding each other before, though all those memories were now buried deep in your heart. You did not want anything to do with them anymore.

"Thanks for the ride." You hopped off Rico's car the second it stopped in front of the Kang' residence. You felt nauseated and couldn't help but feel guilty that someone related to Sora's murderer was here. You used to think guilt by association was nonsensical, but now you understand it was a way to ease an angry person's pain.

"You're welcome." Rico rolled down the window and smiled at you. "Have a good night."

You immediately went inside the house after that short exchange. You and Jungkook both had duplicates of the key's door, so you got inside without calling Jungkook.

It was already late, so Hanni was most likely asleep. Maybe Jungkook retired for the night, too. Thinking about this, you tiptoed inside and made sure not to make any loud noises.

However, you were shocked when you saw Jungkook standing by the floor-length window and looking outside it like some predatory bird.

"Did you promote yourself from being a lowly eunuch to an empress' royal guard?" It was meant to be a sneer, but your tone made it seem like gentle teasing.

Jungkook whipped his head and met your eyes. He was shocked to see you, too. "I'm not waiting for you." He denied vehemently. He even crossed his arms. "I just thought it was Hanni who arrived."

"Oh?" You checked your wristwatch. "It's past nine. Hanni's still not home?"

Jungkook shook his head, "Not yet. Captain Yoongi called. He said Hanni's enjoying herself too much in their home. Apparently, Chief Namjoon built a playground for her." Ji-eun and Jongsuk's children were there too. "Who drove you here? Your secretary? A friend? Your colleague?"

Jungkook saw the flashy car outside and how fast you hopped out of that vehicle. He wondered why. Was it because the driver did something to get you all flustered?

Jungkook found himself clenching his fist. It did not help that you were avoiding his question. Admittedly, you did not want Jungkook to know that Rico drove you here. Luckily, you found a way to divert the topic when you looked at him directly.

"Huh?" You squinted your eyes. You didn't catch it earlier since you were meters away from him, but now you could clearly see the bruise on his face. "Is that a black eye?"

It was Jungkook's turn to avoid your question. He looked away and kept his mouth sealed. What the hell?

"What? Are you playing deaf now? I'm asking you, asshole. Is that a black eye?" You trudged toward him and grabbed his jaw so you could examine his face. You were right. Jungkook had a black eye and a cut in his lips.

Looking at him made your temple hurt. You gritted your teeth in anger.

"What are you up to these days, huh? Did you go around fighting civilians? Aren't you in public service? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It's not a big deal." Jungkook shook his head to wriggle out of your grasp. "There's a guy at the station who pissed me off."

"That's it?" Wow. He was really an idiot. "Do you go around punching people who pissed you off? What about me, then? Since you piss me off so much, should I just punch you to death?"

You pulled Jungkook to sit on the couch and grabbed the first aid kit to clean his wounds. Jungkook was not even bothered with his cuts. He just displayed them as if they were some kind of Christmas decorations.

Jungkook endured how hard you pressed the cotton swab in his face. He was like a docile kid listening to an adult talk. His posture was relaxed, though. Jungkook had his arms spread on the armrest while his legs were wide apart.

"When did this happen, anyway? Did Hanni see you like this? How did she react?" You couldn't bear seeing Hanni cry and questioning why her precious Jungkook-boy was hurt. Hanni was softhearted. How could anyone talk to her about stinky men fighting? It was disgusting.

Jungkook sighed when he realized you would not let it go. "It happened earlier, alright? Captain Yoongi and I met at the police station to discuss something before he went home with Hanni. It's his and the Chief's day off today. Ji-eun dropped by at the station, too. She came bearing bad news..."

Apparently, the one who impounded Falco's car was negligent. He let some people check the vehicle without proper documents. Now, these people were claiming to be car mechanics and that they found Falco's car to have a faulty break.

Damn it. Your premonition had come true. Jungkook was so mad he punched the negligent asshole until he was crying and shaking on the ground. Captain Yoongi saw what happened, so he stopped Jungkook by punching him in the face. He didn't want to, but he had to act 'fair' in front of other police officers. Besides, if he didn't stop Jungkook, there was a big probability that Jungkook would end up killing that negligent officer.

"Why didn't you call me?" You whispered. You couldn't bear to press the cotton swab harder on Jungkook's face after finding out what happened.

"Why?" Jungkook hmphed. " So you can stop me?"

"No." You met his eyes. "So I can punch that asshole too."

Jungkook clearly did not expect that response from you, yet he couldn't help his lips from curling up. Right. You told him before not to worry—you loved Sora so much that you wouldn't let go of those who hurt her.

"Nah," Jungkook shook his head and grabbed your hand. It was close to his lips. You could feel his hot breath on your hand. "You're just gonna hurt your hands. Empresses shouldn't fight lowly people."

Jungkook managed to make you laugh before dropping the bad news to you, "The guy is sent to the hospital and broke a few bones. Serves him right, although..." He smiled in embarrassment, "Captain Yoongi suspended me. I am jobless for a month."

What?

Before you could react, Jungkook stood up to defend himself in case you punched him, "Isn't it great? Now, you have more time to work! I can take care of Hanni the whole day. Yay?"

"Jungkook, you idiot!" You took off your shoe to throw it at him. Unfortunately, the doorbell rang.

Jungkook rushed to the door, "Hanni's here! Don't hurt me, Terni. You can't teach a three-year-old violence!"

The door opened while your shoe was flying in the air. Captain Yoongi was the first to enter the house, causing the shoe to hit his chest.

"Captain!" You and Jungkook snickered. Namjoon was behind him, carrying a sleeping Hanni in his arms. He saw what had happened to Yoongi. The Chief didn't react, though. In fact, he seemed to be holding back a chuckle.

Yoongi glared at Namjoon before throwing a daggered look at you and Jungkook. He loosened his tie and said, "Come here while I'm still asking nicely."

You seemed to teleport back to when Yoongi was training you and the other kids in martial arts. The traumatic memories prompted you to back away and wave your hand in a hurry, "Well, then. It's getting late. Jungkook, you should put Hanni to bed. Captain, Chief, it's nice to see you. Good night!"

You ran to your bedroom after that, ignoring Jungkook's incessant call to you. Captain Yoongi pulled the collar of Jungkook's shirt. He was about to teach him a lesson but backed off when he saw the bruise on his face.

"You're lucky I don't want to touch your face anymore." Yoongi pushed Jungkook and gestured for Namjoon to hand Hanni back to Jungkook. "Take back your kid. She ate all the candies at home. I'll buy more tomorrow and feed them to her next week. Good night."

Jungkook was dumbfounded as he carried Hanni into his arms. He smiled awkwardly at his bosses. "Good night, Captain. Good night, Chief."

Namjoon patted Jungkook's back before following Yoongi outside. "Good night, Jungkook."

Jungkook stood there for a few minutes before blinking back to reality. His bosses were long gone, but he still felt he was in a fever dream. 

"Huh," Jungkook muttered to himself as he made a beeline to Hanni's bedroom. "What a strange night."

Indeed, it was a strange night.

***

The strangeness of that same night didn't end instantly. At 11pm, you and Jungkook jolted awake and rushed to Hanni's room when you heard her loud wail from each of your baby monitors.

"Hey, sweetheart. It's okay." You took Hanni's small frame and rubbed the back of her head. You were panting from being forcefully woken up to attending to Hanni in a matter of seconds.

Jungkook was also worried about Hanni but wasn't as disoriented as you. You guessed it was because his work forced him to deal with much more dangerous things. He assessed the situation by languidly looking at you as you pacified the child.

"Bad dream?" Jungkook caressed Hanni's hot cheek. Tears were still falling down her face. The little kid nodded and nuzzled her cheek to Jungkook's finger as if finding comfort in his soft touch.

"Can you tell us what happened, Hanni?" You continued rubbing her back and called her by her given name. You just needed to make sure she was present and that she knew you would listen to what she had to say.

"Let's sit for a while, yeah?" Sleepiness could still be traced to Jungkook's eyes. He didn't seem to have fully woken up yet, but ironically, he was aware of his surroundings.

One look at you, and Jungkook's hand had already made its way to fix the strap of your lingerie that fell on your shoulder. 

Goosebumps pricked at your skin. Jungkook's palm was unbelievably warm—it calmed your shaking body as if telling you Hanni was safe. There was no need to worry if Jungkook's attention could stray to a petty matter like the strap of your dress.

But damn it. Was this really a small matter? Your face was flushed red, and your heart felt like it was about to explode because of embarrassment. You were wearing a sexy nightgown, after all. This was your secretary's fault! Why'd she pack these clothes for you?

'No. This isn't about me.' You scolded yourself as you gently helped Hanni sit on her crib bed. You sat on the floor, and Jungkook, the attentive man he was, retrieved a blanket you could use for cover. He sat on the floor, too, gently coaxing Hanni to talk about her nightmare.

The little girl said she saw her parents in her dream. She kept calling for them, but Sora and Niccolo never looked back. The couple just walked farther away from her.

"I miss mummy and daddy," Hanni said through whiny sobs. Your heart ached for her.

You knew you hadn't given your best for this godchild of yours. Your attention was mainly focused on work and Sora's case. Could you even call yourself a guardian at this point? Hanni was a small child who needed protection without asking. Why did it take you so long to comfort her? Why did you think skipping over an important topic was okay just because you were afraid to see how she would react?

Hanni was nothing like you. She was not an adult who could understand her emotions. She was a child. She needed to feel. She needed to understand what emotions were.

"Do you like rabbits, Hanni?" You spoke with bated breaths, but your smile was wide as ever. You couldn't break down this time. Hanni needed you. 

Jungkook didn't steal your spotlight, either. He sat quietly and listened to how you would explain things to Hanni.

The child looked confused and lost, yet she nodded her head at your question, "I like rabbits. Mummy and Daddy brought me to the zoo before. There are so many of them."

A small smile cracked Hanni's lips, but her heart felt heavy as she hugged the rabbit toy in her bed.

Admittedly, you didn't know where this topic would stray at first. The rabbit toy simply caught your attention, and before you knew it, you were already using it as a euphemism for Sora and Niccolo's passing.

"Yes, sweetheart. There are so many rabbits in this world! Your mummy and daddy didn't hear your call because they're busy looking after the rabbits."

"I-I don't understand," Hanni pouted her cherry lips.

You patted her head, "Well, do you remember what it's like to be at your mummy and daddy's restaurant?"

Hanni said yes and briefly described the place and experience to be lively. She really enjoyed watching everyone enjoy eating their food.

"Your mummy and daddy are currently on a mission, Hanni. They are in a faraway place trying to feed rabbits. Your daddy cooks delicious food, right? Mummy is with him to make sure every rabbit has a full belly and a cute smile."

"Really?" Hanni's eyes glistened with astonishment. "Mummy and daddy are making sure all rabbits are happy? They're superheroes!?"

"Yes!" You laughed merrily. "Aren't your mummy and daddy great? They know you love rabbits so much that they want them to live a long and happy life."

"That's good." Hanni seemed happy initially, but she knitted her brow in confusion afterward. "But when are they coming back?"

You looked at Jungkook and signaled him to help you. Regrettably, the dumbass appeared to be deeply engrossed by your story too. He shrugged and mouthed for you to continue.

You rolled your eyes at him before grinning at Hanni, "There are many, many, many, many rabbits in the world, so it's gonna take one hundred years before you can see your mummy and daddy again."

"Hundred years?" Hanni stared at her palm and attempted to count using her fingers. She had only counted one to three before completely giving up.

"I don't know how to count to a hundred, Terni." Hanni was frustrated. Thankfully, Jungkook finally interjected the conversation. 

"Don't worry, little one. Terni and I will help you count every day, okay? We'll take care of you for one hundred years until you're reunited with your mummy and daddy."

"Really?" Hanni's fear and sadness were not in sight anymore. She raised her tiny arms enthusiastically, "Hanni's very happy. I love Terni and Jungkook-boy so much!"

You and Jungkook both squeezed to fit Hanni's embrace. The little girl was excited about the possibility of spending time with her new guardians, so you let her talk until she fell asleep.

It didn't take long as Hanni was already exhausted from overplaying at Captain Yoongi's place. You guessed this was also the reason why she had a nightmare. Kids weren't supposed to overexert energy and sleep late, so you thought this was the right time for you and Jungkook to make a new schedule for Hanni's daily activities.

The next morning, you got up early to prepare breakfast. It wasn't only Hanni's schedule that you needed to fix. Her eating habits must be taken into consideration, too. Jungkook brought Hanni to her pediatrician last week and sent you the doctor's findings and suggestions.

Sora and Niccolo used to feed Hanni anything under the sun. It didn't help that your friends, especially Captain Yoongi, were a bunch of softhearted fools who always bought sweets for the little one.

You figured you'd cut Hanni's sugar intake and feed her a full meal twice and a bottle of formulated milk at night.

Today's breakfast was a simple avocado toast and random fruits you'd found in the kitchen and threw into the blender. You were not used to doing this as your secretary took care of all your meals. Fortunately, almost everything was searchable on the internet already.

It didn't take you long to follow the recipe you found online. In fact, you even had time to make Jungkook breakfast, too. It was sort of a 'thank you meal' for handling all matters related to Hanni last week.

You thought Jungkook wasn't so bad. After all, it was hard to hate someone who was soft to kids and respectful to women. Although you knew he was like this from the beginning, the younger version of you would not appreciate it because, hey! You were a regular teenager back then. You had a phase of liking walking red flags and had the "I can fix him" attitude.

You didn't want to indulge in the past anymore, though. You thought one of the few beauties of this world was a person's metamorphosis. You were far from perfect and still had many things to improve, but you were also far from the teenager willing to sacrifice herself for a fraction of someone's affection.

However, you were still a human and craved validation. You waited for Jungkook and Hanni to wake up so they could tell you what they thought about the food you made. Unfortunately, Jungkook seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

You didn't notice it at first as he was still all smiles when he greeted you good morning. He even happily played with Hanni before placing her in her high chair. Now that you thought about it, Jungkook's mood only soured when he was checking the mailbox.

"What's wrong with you?" You couldn't help but ask. You were about to eat breakfast. Hanni's starry eyes were excitedly looking at the food you made. You didn't want to start eating while Jungkook's mood was this sour.

Jungkook was surprised that you noticed his bitter expression. He attempted to smoothen his crumpled face and said casually to you, "Nothing's wrong with me. I just find these flowers ugly."

You were so focused on Jungkook's reaction that you didn't notice the bouquet of baby breath flowers he placed on the kitchen countertop.

You winced, "Where'd you get that?"

"Outside. Someone must have left them for you." There was a small card with your name on it. Seeing the handwriting, you instantly knew who it came from.

That damn Rico sure did not know how to give up.

"Serious question, are you dating somebody?" Jungkook asked out of the blue, watching as you picked up the white flowers.

You were still wincing, "Why are you asking me this question again?"

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders to appear nonchalant. Unfortunately, he looked more like he was sulking than uncaring. "I just think it's fair for me to know. I mean, we are co-parenting Hanni. What if other people misunderstand? What if they think we have a secret baby cause we fucked around years ago? I don't want some random dude or woman punching me in the fa—"

"Okay, first of all, shut up." You cut Jungkook off. "Secondly, what the hell? You're acting weird, asshole. I'm not dating anyone. And if I am, do you really think I'll start my relationship being all dishonest? If Hanni's my child, I'd tell my partner immediately. I can't date someone who can't love me and my child. Hello? Is the world turning backward?"

"So you're single?" Jungkook disregarded your speech and only focused on one aspect. Gosh. He still hadn't changed. Jungkook would always get on your nerves. He was an idiot. 

"No. I'll kill my boyfriend if he gives me baby breaths. Seriously?" You looked at the flowers in disgust. "This looks like popcorn."

"Exactly my thoughts! It's like an impostor. Why don't you throw it away?"

You glared at Jungkook and shielded the flowers, "No way. You can't throw away things just cause they're ugly. What are you? Four?"

"I'm three!" Hanni raised her right hand and giggled. She had been watching you and Jungkook converse. She found you two amusing and thought it would be cool to be a part of it.

"Yes, darling. You're three. Still a baby—our baby." You kissed Hanni's cheeks and said to Jungkook, "I'm displaying these flowers until they wither. Now sit your ass here and eat."

"Haha, Terni. Look at Jungkook-boy." Hanni chuckled and pointed at Jungkook, "He's pouting like a silly boy!"

"I'm not pouting!" Jungkook was defensive. He pursed his lips and forced himself to sit down. He harshly took bites of his avocado toast.

"Hey, you greedy fool. Is this Empress not feeding you enough? Slow down. Geez, there's more." You pushed another slice of avocado toast in his direction.

Jungkook drank his smoothie, "This is pretty decent. I didn't know you were good at this."

Well, you didn't know either. "I'll make our breakfast from now on. We can't keep feeding Hanni random foods. We should go grocery shopping, too."

"We should," Jungkook gently wiped Hanni's mouth. The kid was eating so well. "And oh, have I told you already? Kiyomi and Frieda called last night. They said they'd be visiting on Thursday. We need to prepare."

It was good that you brought up the topic of grocery shopping. Jungkook planned to buy some ingredients to cook a hearty meal for the social workers. His mind was simple: he wanted to thank Kiyomi and Frieda for attentively ensuring Hanni was in good hands.

However, you were different from Jungkook. You agreed about the meal preparation for those social workers, but not with the same logic as him. You only agreed because you wanted Kiyomi and Frieda to think you and Jungkook could handle the basic things parents must do: prepare food for their children despite being committed to work. This would allow you to appear as the perfect guardians.

"It's settled, then. I'm taking half a day off work. We can go shopping after breakfast." You worked your ass off last week, barely having the time to sleep. This week would be less hectic. Besides, this was akin to a transition period, as you wouldn't be accepting complex cases in the meantime. You would opt for clients willing to settle their matters out-of-court. As said, your top priority was Hanni and Sora's case. You trusted your team in Seoul, especially Mina. They had minds of their own. You also disliked micro-managing your subordinates. 

Everything was falling into its right place. Jungkook thought so, too. A huge grin decorated his lips as he thought of how he'd prepare for tomorrow's visit. The first on Jungkook's list? Make sure the Kang' residence was tidy and homey—and what made a house homey if not flowers?

Jungkook smirked. Yes, he'd buy flowers and get rid of those stupid popcorn pretending to be pretty flowers. Hah!

***

The day of the social workers' visit had finally arrived. You and Jungkook woke up early to prepare. Hanni still needed to go to the daycare, so you dressed her and sent her to school. Fortunately, her class was until 4pm today, giving you and Jungkook ample time without worrying about the little one.

Jungkook stayed behind as he was occupied with cooking and decorating the house. He might have gone overboard with the decorations, but it was worth it once everything fell into place.

You were bitchy about it, though. You teased Jungkook by playfully asking if his motif for today's lunch was a memorial place. The Kang' residence was spotless, though it had flowers almost at every corner of the house.

Jungkook didn't engage with your poor attempt to fight and just stuck his tongue out at you. You could say everything you wanted, but he knew deep down you liked what he had done to the house.

He was wrong, though. You didn't just like it. You loved it. The flowers Jungkook bought were different colors of daisies—which, coincidentally, was your favorite type of flora. But you'd be damned before you admitted it. You knew how smug Jungkook could be when praised—just like now.

"I can't believe you've cooked this, Mr. Jeon. It's very delicious." Kiyomi was enjoying some nikujaga. You were the one who suggested that Jungkook cook this. The soy sauce had a slightly sweet taste, which was good to dip in the vegetables. Kids like Hanni would surely enjoy this meal.

"It's rare to see a man, more so a Police Lieutenant, cook," Kiyomi added. Jungkook blushed, relishing the compliment. Truthfully, he did not cook often since he still lived with his parents. Jungkook never really grew up in his "mama's boy" phase and still enjoyed the meals she cooked for him. In fact, the nikujaga recipe came from his mother. Jungkook informed the social workers about it and said, "Besides, I don't cook often. My fiancée does."

The social workers' attention switched to you upon hearing Jungkook. You cracked a smile and rubbed the back of Jungkook's hand.

Jungkook's fingers were long and bony, making anyone think that Jungkook could break one's neck in just a snap of his finger. It was probably true, especially with how arduous his training was at the police academy. Jungkook had wielded heavy weapons and smashed bottles on criminals' heads more than one could count.

However, looking and feeling were two different things. Surprisingly, Jungkook's hand felt soft under your touch. The protruding veins in the back of his hands pulsated a little, their light green color perfectly contrasting with his silver Versace wristwatch. 

"Cooking is the least I can do for this family, really." You spoke, watching as Jungkook's eyes drooped when he felt your fingers languidly drawing circles on the back of his palm. 

You had been cooking their meals these past few days, but that was only because Jungkook had a soft spot for Hanni. He'd indulge her sweet tooth, relenting every time Hanni requested overly sweet pancakes and candies. That wouldn't work for you. Your priority was Hanni's health. 

"I work a lot, so Jungkook mainly takes care of Hanni. I just support the two of them."

"Oh? Aren't you busy with work, too, Lieutenant?" Frieda enquired. Jungkook's lips quivered, and for a second, he looked as if he wanted to divulge why he wasn't working. You saved him from his idiocy at the last minute:

"He's currently on a one-month leave." You continued tracing circles on Jungkook's hand until your action forced the social workers to look at Jungkook's hand. They spotted a fake engagement ring. You and Jungkook bought it to make your acting more convincing. "Jungkook's initially saving his leave credits for our honeymoon, but Captain Min forced him to get some time off work. This fiancé of mine is so hardworking. Can you believe it? He hasn't filed for a leave in years!"

The key to a good lie was mixing it with the truth. Admittedly, Jungkook hadn't filed for a leave for many years now. His coworkers often teased him, saying he wouldn't find a wife to marry if he focused his time working. However, Jungkook wasn't bothered anymore. He grew tired of spending his weekends going on blind dates. The girls were all pretty and nice, but he didn't feel more for them. He was stuck in the attraction phase. It was as if something was missing. Jungkook wasn't an asshole, so he cut connections with those girls so as to not give them false hope.

There was this one girl who was head over heels for him, though. The woman even brought her parents to the station to cajole Jungkook into marrying their daughter, but the parents gave up halfway because Jungkook seemed oblivious to what they wanted. It was Jimin who told Jungkook about the parents' plan, but Jungkook doubted it. He thought the girl's parents were just being nice.

"Has he not?" Frieda wondered how often you and Jungkook see each other every week if you're both busy with work. She also started asking about your first meeting with Jungkook.

"We've known each other from a very young age. We lived in the same neighborhood and studied in the same school. Though, we only started dating after college." Jungkook lied.

You and Jungkook faked this story together. You two had to make a believable scenario to avoid suspicion. You told more lies, "Yes, as you can see, we started as rivals. Cute, isn't it? Our romantic story is similar to what you see in books."

You brought out your phone and clicked an album in your photo gallery to prove your point. There were a bunch of pictures of you and Jungkook taken in the past. You showed them to the social workers.

"Wow, you've really known each other for so long!" Kiyomi was impressed. There was a photo of a drawing competition during your elementary days. It was captured by your father using an old model camera.

It was one of the worst days of your life. Jungkook was good at drawing, so he was expected to win. He got first place while you were the second placer. Naturally, you could not accept it—especially not after Jungkook mocked you by drawing himself wearing a golden medal. On his feet was a drawing of you kowtowing at him. In a fit of rage, you kicked his shin, causing him to stumble on the ground. Jungkook did not hit you back but told the teachers and your parents about it.

Your mother held a high position in school, so it was embarrassing for her to see her daughter bully kids. She scolded you and forced you to apologize to Jungkook. You did not want to do it, so you cried and kicked your feet.

Jungkook's parents were understanding. They did not get mad at you and instead told Jungkook to apologize first. It was his fault, anyway. You would not kick him if he did not make fun of you.

Since Jungkook feared his parents, especially his mother, he was left with no choice but to mumble a reluctant sorry. His apology only became sincere when he saw your red eyes. For some reason, Jungkook hated seeing you cry, and so he took off his golden medal and let you wear it.

That was the moment your father captured through a photo: Jungkook was giving you his medal while you looked expectantly at him.

Seeing this, Frieda and Kiyomi couldn't help but feel their hearts softening. They scrolled through your phone and found more pictures of you and Jungkook. All of them were taken mainly by Sora since she used to like photography.

"I now understand why you called yourselves rivals," Frieda crinkled her eyes. She found it endearing rather than annoying, "You compete about almost everything, but I gotta say this one's the most interesting."

Frieda showed a picture of you and Jungkook outside your university. You two were wearing formal clothing while protesting. You were holding a "Be fair to all your students" placard written in red bold letters. Meanwhile, Jungkook had a placard that said, "Kim Mingyu is innocent."

"We didn't know you two were activists. I know who Kim Mingyu is. He's classmates with my younger sister Historia before. Mingyu's case was pretty controversial, wasn't it?"

Kim Mingyu was one of Jungkook's best friends, so it was natural for you to be acquainted with him as well. There were many moments when the Idiot Quartet shared meals with Mingyu. In fact, Mingyu once helped you with an academic project during your freshman year.

Everything was going well until your last semester in college. Someone tipped the school officers that a student from Room 509 was possessing illegal drugs. All students present that day were brought in for investigation. Their things were confiscated, and unfortunately, the only student who had unlawful drugs inside his bag was Mingyu.

But that's the thing. Mingyu might have been possessing the drugs, but his medical records showed no signs of being under the influence of any drugs. There was one student who tested positive in the drug test, though.

It was Mingyu's seatmate. Regrettably, this person was from an affluent family in Seoul whose connection extended to Busan. It was obvious that he planted the drugs inside Mingyu's bag so Mingyu could take the fall.

Mingyu initially tried to appeal, asking his friends and classmates for support. However, no one dared help him. The real culprit was powerful, after all. They did not want to get themselves involved in stuff like this.

It was only you and Jungkook who had the courage to protest. Even Sora and the others were hesitant. They told you not to be reckless and to find another way to help Mingyu without revealing your identity.

Looking back, you realized you didn't have any right to mock Jungkook and Jongsuk for being a so-called suicidal maniac because you were just like them. You were very passionate about upholding justice until one day:

A man in a black suit visited you. You just got home after another unfruitful day of protesting in school on behalf of Mingyu. You didn't really feel like talking to anyone that day, but the man made a promising proposal:

He told you he saw your potential and was willing to fund your law school education until you graduate. Everything would be provided by this man. Starting from your tuition fee up to your personal allowance. All he asked was that you move to Seoul as soon as possible, and...

"So that's it?" Jungkook's spiteful face was clear in your head as if the memory had happened recently—except it wasn't. This was after your conversation with that man in a suit. Heck. It didn't even take you an hour to decide.

You have already made a decision.

"I'm going to Seoul next week. I don't have time to protest anymore." You said simply. Your voice carried no hint of regret or sadness.

You were just indifferent.

Jungkook scoffed at your reaction—or the lack thereof. His heart had gone cold, and there was no trace of affection left on his soul after your temporary truce for Mingyu's sake.

"Yeah, as if I'm going to believe that. You're saying it's a coincidence that the Braun clan is sponsoring your studies, right? Hah. Sorry, but I call that bullshit." For a moment, Jungkook looked like he would spit on your face, but he didn't. He just balled his hands into fists and looked at you in contempt.

"You made a deal with that family, didn't you? You'll stop protesting in exchange for a straight path they'd dig up for you and your greediness."

Jungkook usually said the most idiotic things, but you couldn't accuse him now—not when he got everything right.

In exchange for a sure success in life, you betrayed Mingyu and Jungkook.

"I've made up my mind." You said with finality. The situation had already come to this. There was no point in sugarcoating things.

Jungkook didn't say anything, the silence burrowing into your heart and growing into two different emotions:

Yours was grief, and all Jungkook felt was bitterness. That day, you parted ways and never spoke to each other again. Sure, there were times you two were forced to be in the same room—like the day of Sora's wedding and when she gave birth to Hanni.

But even then, you barely looked at each other's directions. Somehow, you always felt like Jungkook was lying when he told you recently that he never hated you—that all there was to feel was annoyance at your devilish face.

It was untrue. After all, not even yourself was on your side. Jungkook might say he didn't hate you, but you sure did.

Wasn't it funny? You had achieved your dreams, but there were still some nights you thought you could go back in time. Maybe then, Mingyu and his family wouldn't have to be sent to the most rural part of Japan.

Mingyu wasn't sent to prison, but his life had been caged while his wings were cut off. Meanwhile, Mingyu's seatmate, who had ruined his life, was free—he went by the name Rico Braun.

***

The lunch with the social workers went well. You didn't want to be complacent, but you saw Frieda encircling  5 on her rating sheet. This number represented the highest point to rate you and Jungkook.

"Shall we open a bottle of wine for this success? It's still early to pick up Hanni. What do you think?" You asked Jungkook as you picked up the dirty plates and brought them to the sink.

Cleaning up after playing host was one of the things you hated doing. It didn't help that Jungkook was giving you the cold shoulder—or at least this was what you thought.

Jungkook hadn't spoken to you since Frieda and Kiyomi left half an hour ago. Jungkook had his lips puckered, and his brows creased together. You were familiar with this reaction well.

Either he was pensive or pissed. Knowing him, it was most likely the latter. After all, you could only take a few days of not fighting. Anything more than a week would be a goddamn miracle.

"Or we can just finish our chores in silence." You raised your shoulders slightly, taking a peek at Jungkook, who was still eerily quiet.

You heaved a sigh. Fine. You wouldn't push it.

'Or maybe you should.' The little voice inside your head made a comeback, so it was only natural to listen to the voice.

You didn't attack Jungkook at once, though. Firstly, you stood beside him and 'helped' him wash the dishes. You were the one lathering soap on the plates while he washed them with clean water.

It started subtly—you whisked soap suds in his direction until they hit his forearms.

Jungkook did not mind it and just continued washing the dishes.

You rolled your eyes before doing it again. This time, you whisked soap suds into his forearm with more force.

Jungkook did not react, prompting you to whisk more until his arm was covered with soap suds.

You were about to do it again, but Jungkook had seized your treacherous wrist.

"What?" You titled your head up and stared at him innocently.  Jungkook peered down at you and opened his mouth. For a moment, he seemed like he was going to berate you, but he stopped when he saw your lips curving into a teasing smile.

Jungkook felt like he lost his mind a little whenever he looked at your annoying face. How could this be? How could he be stressing over something related to you while you looked like you had no clue you were fucking him up?

It was not fair.

Jungkook pulled you closer to him, letting you have a whiff of his expensive cologne: sandalwood. Jungkook did not know it, but you were not doing better than him. Your weakness was men who smelled good, alright? You were just a girl, after all. You were attracted to things that screamed masculinity, and sandalwood was one of them. The musky and earthy aroma made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

As if that wasn't enough, your heart also skipped a beat when he licked his lips and pushed you slightly on the kitchen countertop, effectively caging you in his arms. 

Jungkook suddenly leaned closer and whispered to your ears.

"Why'd you keep them?" His voice dropped an octave.

"Keep what?"

It was a miracle that you could still look at him in the eyes and act all oblivious. It made Jungkook want to pull his hair out.

"You know what I'm talking about." He insisted. However, you were more stubborn than he was.

"I don't. Last time I checked, I'm a defense lawyer, not a mind reader."

No one said Jungkook had a good temper. He closed his eyes tightly, seemingly fighting the urge to snap at you—he did not. He just breathed out slowly and asked you the question as patiently as he could.

"Fine. Play dumb, but I won't accept a half-ass answer." He narrowed his eyes at you, "Why did you keep all our photos together?"

The photos were at least twenty years' worth of your life together. You were thirty-two now. Sometimes, it still fascinated you to remember that you had known Jungkook all your life.

"Don't speak nonsense about you being sentimental. We both know that's not the case because you can let go of everyone without thinking too much about it."

You scoffed at that. Hah. You knew it. Jungkook did hate you for leaving—he hated how you could throw away your bond with the people here in Busan just to make a name for yourself. Until now, Jungkook had some reservations about you. He racked his brain of why you would be keeping those photos.

It might mean nothing to you—that this was just one of your schemes to trick those social workers. But could you have found all those pictures in a few days? Not to mention that some were really old.

So why? Why did you keep them—even the ugly and blurred ones.

Jungkook was desperate for an answer, and he didn't know why. Sadly, you did not relent and even went as far as throwing back a question at him.

"What about you? Why did you fill this place with flowers? Daisies, on top of that."

It shouldn't mean anything. Heck. The question you asked was a shot in the dark. The better part of you knew it was simply a coincidence, but sometimes, your self-preservation didn't seem to work. You put meanings to things that didn't hold value for others.

"I asked you a question first." Jungkook dodged the bullet. He could be stubborn, too.

"Well, I'm not answering your question until you answer me."

"Ditto."

You glared at each other. Silence permeated the room. A few seconds later, you and Jungkook both turned away from each other as if accepting defeat without bruising your egos.

'Fine. I won't say anything.' He muttered to himself.

'Over my dead body.' You thought silently.

And with that, no questions were answered, but fear and hope entangled your and Jungkook's hearts.

***

Sora and Niccolo's case finally progressed to the highest court a month later. Justice could be achieved promptly when you know prominent people in the field.

Captain Yoongi and Chief Kim did everything they could to help you and Ji-eun win the case. Thanks to the prosecutor's ability, the jury's hearts were won.

Ji-eun managed to rebuke the faulty break allegations, arguing that even though the break was tampered with, the defendants were still guilty of negligence. Ji-eun's exact words before the judge went like this:

"Defendant Falco Grice, do you know how many seconds there are in a minute?"

"Yes. There are sixty seconds." Falco supplied.

"Then, how many hours do you spend studying every day?"

The question made Falco's eyes light up. Right! He liked answering questions regarding his studies because, according to Attorney Leonhart, his dedication to academic activities would prove how stressed he was in school, which resulted in him and Gabi trying throttle therapy.

The defendants couldn't retract their statements anymore as they had already been recorded by the traffic police and Captain Yoongi. Annie had no choice but to just turn things around.

If she couldn't minimize her clients' charges, she'd just shift the attention to hating the school and making them liable for giving unrealistic workloads to their students. This would surely earn the sympathy of students and parents.

Unfortunately, you and Ji-eun had read through this tactic, so you readied yourselves for a comeback.

"I studied a maximum of 18 hours a day, Mam Prosecutor, including eight schooling hours."

"So that means you spend 10 hours studying alone and taking special classes?"

"Yes, Mam." Falco did not know where Ji-eun was going with her questions, yet he answered them as truthfully as possible. He thought being sincere could help him win the people's hearts in court.

"You know what I find ironic?" Ji-eun quirked her brow. Disbelief was written all over her face as if this ordeal was absurd. "You study 18 hours a day because you are afraid to fail your classes, but are you telling me you can't spend a minute or two checking the condition of your car? If you're so scared of hJiming someone, then why did you use your car without checking it first? You claim to love studying, but how about studying your lessons during your driving schooling days? Did you forget everything just because you have your license now?"

"T-That's not it..." Falco trembled. Tears immediately welled up in his eyes. He looked at Annie, so the lawyer tried to object to Ji-eun's statement.

"Objection, Your Honor! Argumentative." Annie gritted her teeth. "Why are you badgering my client, Prosecutor Lee? Are you telling everyone in this honorable court that studying is not important? Why are you shaming my client for studying hard? Students are the future of our country! If there's something rotten here, isn't it the education system that gives unrealistic syllabus to students?"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Ji-eun fought back. The judge gave her the signal to speak. "Why are you holding other people accountable for your client's negligence? Shouldn't we also blame those driving schools if we follow your logic? The police officers? The honorable court and judges? This is not the first time someone has been charged with negligence. It happened before and is happening now. Are you telling me we should hold the people in public service accountable since the cycle keeps repeating?"

The people inside the court were scandalized by what Ji-eun said. You smirked as you watched things unfold. Things were going according to how you and Ji-eun pictured it.

The judge overruled Annie's objection. Attorney Leonhart couldn't lower the charges to manslaughter either. The court hearing was coming to an end, but before the closing remarks of both lawyers, the judge first allowed some people to take the stand.

You were one of those people with the privilege to say a few things, mainly addressed to the judge and the jury. You and Ji-eun talked about this. At first, it was to gain more sympathy, but as you take the stand, with Hanni sleeping soundly in your arms, you suddenly become vulnerable. You felt like you were back to being your teenage self—no sense of accomplishment and powerless to defend your loved ones.

You could only offer your heart.

"I stand here today not as a lawyer nor someone who will put justice in her own hands. Rather, I stand here as a friend and as a-a..." You trailed off when you heard your voice cracking.

Perhaps Ji-eun was right. You should have prepared a written speech for this moment. However, scheming was already part of your soul. You feared you'd end up writing a speech with malicious intent. You did not want that—not for Sora. Everything you would say today would come from the bottom of your heart.

"A guardian of a three-year-old child." You swallowed the lump in your throat while looking at Hanni with gentle eyes. You focused on the baby and nuzzled her nose with your pointer finger. Hanni cooed and smiled in her sleep. The jury watched silently, feeling their heartstrings being pulled.

"An average person in Japan lives until the ripe age of eighty, but my best friend Sora Kang and her husband were unfortunately robbed forty-eight years of their lives." Your lungs hurt. They felt like they were burning. You hated this. "Defendant Falco Grice and Gabi Braun stole those forty-eight years where Sora and Niccolo could have spent caring for their daughter—the same girl I have in my arms right now."

Hanni looked more obedient when asleep. No one could resist purring seeing her chubby cheeks and pouty lips. What more if they saw her ocean-blue eyes? You told Ji-eun you would not bring Hanni to the stand while awake. You refused to let her hear about the unfortunate things her parents went through.

"Sora and Niccolo won't see their daughter attend her first prom. They won't see her grow into a loving woman who's so innocent that she wants to save all the rabbits in this world." You looked at Gabi and Falco. "And why is that? The answer is in front of you. Falco Grice and Gabi Braun, claiming to be stressed because of school, aimed to relax through that thing they called throttle therapy, but because of that, two lives were lost. Their throttle therapy made them feel the cool air hit their faces, but what about Sora and Niccolo? Air was robbed of their lungs!" Your anger was palpable. 

The jury's heart throbbed in pain.

"Falco and Gabi felt their hearts beat fast because of the excitement and adrenaline of overspeeding their car, but what about Sora and Niccolo? Their hearts were not beating fast—it's not beating at all." 

Sometimes, you lay in tears in bed at night, wondering if your best friend and her husband died immediately—at least then, they wouldn't feel the agonizing thought of leaving their small child while feeling every bone in their body ache.

Your speech continued for a few more minutes before you ended with, "Attorney Leonhart said it herself: the youth is the hope of this country, so honorable jury, and judge, I implore you to think about your decisions carefully. A three-year-old in my arms could grow up with hope or a bad image of the world where injustice is fostered. In the end, the choice is yours."

Silence enveloped the courtroom. You went back beside Jungkook, who wrapped his arms around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. Hanni was passed to Taehyung for a while. The poor boy needed someone to hold, too.

A while later, the decision was made. You, Jungkook, and the others listened in anticipation as the jury's foreperson announced the verdict.

Both Falco and Gabbi were found guilty of reckless imprudence, resulting in multiple homicides. As the driver, Falco got seven years in prison and was ordered to pay ten million won. Meanwhile, Gabi needed to serve two years in prison for influencing Falco and was ordered to pay five million won. Both their cases were nonbailable.

"So ordered!" Your squared shoulders slumped when you heard this, followed by the absolute sound of the gavel. Jungkook visibly relaxed beside you, too. He squeezed your shoulder once before rubbing it and kissing your temple.

It was a surreal moment. The warmth of his lips made your body soft. You leaned to him and buried your face to his chest. Jungkook caressed your hair, not minding at all that his suit was stained by your tears.

They were happy tears. Finally, justice was served.

***

The end of the month not only concluded Sora's case but also marked the end of Jungkook's suspension at work.

It was a relief, really. Jungkook staying at home might be helpful since you didn't have to hire a babysitter anymore, but goddamn, did it not make your life easier. In fact, it made you feel like you were living in hell.

Hell was said to be hot, which you felt precisely every morning. One thing you learned about Jungkook was that he couldn't go on his day without working out. Jungkook recently found the convenience of exercising at home, which turned out to be the start of your life in hell.

Every morning, he'd go to the house's garden to do some pull-ups, planks, squats, and other workout moves. There didn't seem to be any problem with this, right?

Wrong.

Jungkook's workout routine distracted you from working. Unfortunately, your temporary office was at the Kang' residence, too. You made the mistake of putting your table near the floor-length window where you'd have a clear view of the garden. Your intention in doing so was to calm your tense mind by looking at the greeneries. But instead, what you saw was Jungkook grunting; his lips puckered as sweat rolled down his body.

You willed yourself to ignore him, but your clients did not make doing so easy. Admittedly, most of your clients would space out during the consultation as they were busy salivating over Jungkook working out. Sometimes, you'd be forced to draw on the curtains, but this was proven inefficient since your office would be so dark that you couldn't read the files on your table.

Thankfully, the worst had come to an end. Jungkook's going back to work. Conversely, you did not open your office today, saving you the mouth-drying experience of seeing Jungkook exercise.

However, fate refused to be on your side while the heavens liked seeing your knees turn into jellies. You didn't see Jungkook during his workout session, but you saw him post-workout.

You had just woken up and were feeling a bit thirsty, so you went to the kitchen without regard to your appearance. Your hair was a mess, and gunk stuck in your eyes, causing you to rub it off.

You yawned while waiting for your water to boil. Unexpectedly, Jungkook emerged in front of you.

"Mornin." He flashed a lazy smile at you. His slightly out-of-breath tone from working out all morning snapped you out of your sleep-like trance.

"Damn it." You were almost burnt by the water. Jungkook's eyes widened, immediately pulling your hand away from the kettle.

"What's up, sleepyhead?" Jungkook teased before blowing hot air on your slightly red hands. "Water's overflowing. Did you forget how to use a kettle, hm?"

You had filled the kettle with water beyond the maximum point. Not to mention that you had also switched on the fire to the highest temperature.

You couldn't argue with Jungkook. This was indeed your fault. You were careless.

"Sorry," you tried to make your voice as flat as possible while subtly wriggling out of his grasp. Jungkook noticed your avoidance, so he let you go at once.

Right. He was all sweaty. Of course, you'd be disgusted by his touch. However, this was far from the truth. You were simply caught off guard by his presence and how he looked.

Jungkook was wearing a black compression shirt and baggy grey training pants. His usual silver wristwatch was replaced by a smartwatch.

He looked...hot. You couldn't deny this, and for some reason, your temples throbbed, giving you an illusion that someone's soft lips were caressing it.

Fuck.

You should definitely check your period tracker. You were probably ovulating a little earlier this month.

You weren't the only one having dilemmas with your body. Jungkook watched as you clumsily poured yourself water and drank it. You looked disoriented, and that shouldn't be a good sign. But oddly enough, Jungkook liked seeing you like this—your guard was not up, and you were uncaring about how you looked.

You're just being you.

Jungkook was unaware that his smartwatch had detected his heartbeat. It flashed red warning lights, indicating that his heartbeat was abnormally fast.

Jungkook cleared his throat. You looked at him.

"I'm going back to work today. Thanks for making breakfast for me these few weeks, but you don't have to anymore. Captain Yoongi always brings us food."

Jungkook was seriously grateful for your efforts. Besides, your food was very savory. Jungkook just didn't want to burden you further. You barely had time for yourself since you were busy attending to Hanni and your work.

Frankly, Jungkook did not expect you to be this caring. He guessed he had this notion of you pouring your efforts just for money and power. He was not proud of this, alright?

"Oh," you blinked, "But I've already prepared your breakfast last night." You made some veggie-packed breakfast sandwiches and overnight oats. Actually, you asked Jungkook's mother for some breakfast recipes. She gladly talked to you over the phone but said she'd love to see you in person, too. The Jeon residence had a huge garden where you could pick up fruits and vegetables. That would be fun.

"I'm not going to cook tonight, though. Taehyung invited us to dinner." Your friend made a reservation in a fancy restaurant to mark the win of Sora and Niccolo's case. Taehyung wanted to thank everyone, especially you and Ji-eun, for pushing through.

"Oh, right. It's tonight." Jungkook asked how the three of you would go to the restaurant. You told him you had business near the police station later, so you could drop by there. Afterward, you and Jungkook could pick up Hanni from the daycare before driving to the restaurant.

Jungkook agreed with your plan. After that, your day had been pretty much the same. Thankfully, your client for today was easy to talk to and just agreed to whatever you suggested. He said you were the expert, not him. As a result, your meeting with the client ended thirty minutes earlier. You thought it was a waste to drive back home, so you just went to the police station to hang out.

Everyone was having a feast. Apparently, a good citizen brought food for the police officers as a 'thank you' for saving her life. It was a woman in her early thirties. You heard people calling her Pieck. She had a soft smile on her lips as she urged the officers to eat.

Jungkook saw you the moment you stepped foot inside the station. Unfortunately, he couldn't attend to you as he was the star of this joyous event. You simply waved at him and mouthed, "I can wait."

Jungkook smiled and nodded before turning his attention to Pieck and his comrades.

You watched them for a while, feeling your chest wJiming at the thought of people praising Jungkook. He deserved it. You hadn't met anyone aside from Jongsuk Lee, who was as passionate about freeing people from the hands of criminals.

Your soft heart even turned softer when an older woman stood beside you and told you to eat some food. She introduced herself as the mother of Pieck Finger. 

"Lieutenant Jeon is indeed a hero," You couldn't say no when Mrs. Finger shoved desserts in your hands. You ate them. "You know him, don't you? He saved my Pieck from a group of drunkards trying to assault her."

The incident happened just a few days before Sora's accident. Pieck didn't have the opportunity to express her gratitude to Jungkook because the first time they went to visit the police station, Pieck's parents overwhelmed Jungkook with the intention of marrying off their daughter to him.

Pieck's parents wanted Jungkook to be their son-in-law, someone who wasn't armed but wouldn't hesitate to fight a group of evil men. Mrs. Finger told you that Jungkook was in a bar that night. He was off-duty, so he didn't bother bringing his gun. Jungkook just used beer bottles to smash the heads of the pricks who dared lay a hand on Pieck.

Sadly, Pieck didn't get away unscathed. The men had broken her leg even before Jungkook came to save her. Actually, Pieck was wearing a leg cast until now. She still had a week to go before completely removing it.

Pieck had a hard time standing and walking. Jungkook wasn't heartless to watch her struggle, so he held her shoulders and guided her while handing food to the officers.

You and Mrs. Finger watched them. The latter snuck a glance at you, her lips curving into a smirk.

"Don't you think Lieutenant Jeon and my daughter look good together?"

Oh? 

You didn't switch your gaze at the old woman and instead remained watching Jungkook and Pieck. You tried to picture them together, but you just couldn't do so.

"I don't think so," you replied to Mrs. Finger truthfully. She scoffed and furrowed her brows. She looked like she aged 10 more years after hearing your blatant disrespect.

You shrugged off your shoulders and casually showed her your right hand adorned with an engagement ring. "I think Lieutenant Jeon and I look better together."

If you thought Mrs. Finger would backtrack her statement just because you and Jungkook were 'engaged,' then you were wrong.

She eyed you from head to toe before looking at her precious daughter. You were nothingcompared to Pieck.

"My daughter is a teacher." Mrs. Finger crossed her arms, "She knows how to take care of a small child, so it won't be hard for her to be the perfect wife for Lieutenant Jeon. Unlike you..." She looked at the way you dressed. Too classy. You seemed high-maintenance. It would be a waste if Jungkook used his salary coming from the people's taxes to support you.

"You're still a woman, so I think you won't have a hard time looking for a husband, but you and Lieutenant Jeon don't match. Just Look at him..." Mrs. Finger urged you to look at Jungkook and Pieck. "Look at the way he treats my daughter. He thinks she's a delicate flower."

Her description made you cackle. You couldn't help it. This old woman was both funny and pathetic.

"Genuine question: do you think Jungkook 'perfectly' matches your daughter just because he treats her like a human being?"

Your concerned face didn't look fake. But instead of finding it endearing, Mrs. Finger thought you were mocking her.

"And what do you mean by that?" Mrs. Finger got all defensive.

You heaved a sigh, "I just think it's sad that you are forcing an already committed man to your gorgeous daughter." You were telling the truth. Pieck was a catch. "And you're doing all this just because he treats her kindly. It makes me wonder what kind of men you and your daughter surround yourselves with—seeing that you become all desperate for the bare minimum."

"You—!!" Mrs. Finger was speechless. Her face was red because of humiliation.

You were not trying to embarrass her, though. You pitied her. Admittedly, if what you and Jungkook had was real, you didn't think you'd be jealous of how he treated Pieck. You were actually going to question his behavior if he wasn't treating her like this.

You didn't want to date a man who was only good to you.

"You said your daughter is a teacher, right? I hope she doesn't teach kids that something normal must be rewarded with God-like treatment. Because if that's the case, your standards in people, especially men, are on the floor."

Mrs. Finger was about to say something, but she saw Jungkook jogging in your direction.

"Hey," Jungkook greeted you, a sweet smile was plastered on his lips. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Are you ready to go?"

"Mn. Mrs. Finger and I were just idly chatting," 

Jungkook was so focused on you that he didn't notice the old woman beside you. He bowed at her, thanking her for helping Pieck cook the food for today.

"But you barely ate, Lieutenant." Mrs. Finger subtly complained. Her brows were knitted together. She hadn't calmed down from her rage yet. She wished she could pull your hair for being too arrogant.

"Ah, sorry," Jungkook smiled sheepishly. "I've eaten a lot earlier at lunch. My fiancée packed me a bento box. You've met her, right?"

Jungkook introduced you and Mrs. Finger more formally this time. The old man was forced to shake your hands before bidding you goodbye.

"We have to go. We'll see you later, Mrs. Finger." Jungkook's hand snaked above your waist but below your breast. This hold was way more intimate than handholding or grabbing someone's shoulder to help them walk.

Mrs. Finger gritted her teeth and glared, resenting you for naturally getting this treatment from Jungkook.

You just smirked at her and walked away.

"By the way, shithead," you called Jungkook when you two were out of the station.

"What?" Jungkook was carried away from pretending. He'd been bragging about you to his comrades and Pieck all afternoon.

"I didn't make your bento for lunch. I just bought it." You did not have time to cook it yourself.

Jungkook stopped walking. You thought he'd mock you, but he shrugged nonchalantly and said, "Doesn't matter. You still thought of me when you bought it."

Now, it was your turn to be stunned. You furrowed your brow at Jungkook, wanting to ask what he meant, but were afraid of hearing the answer.

Like usual, you let it go, refusing to hear it from him.

There was another chance for the truth—just not today.

***

Dinner with Taehyung and the others went well. You continued pretending to have a romantic relationship with Jungkook in front of them. Admittedly, telling them and acting weren't that difficult. You still remember how they reacted when you told them about you and Jungkook a month ago.

The conversation with Yoongi and Namjoon went like this:

"Chief, Captain, I am getting married with her." Jungkook intertwined your fingers together. You'd like to think you were a good actress, so you did not understand why the news did not shock the two men. 

Namjoon merely raised his brow and said, "Is this your way of asking us to sponsor your wedding?" The chief thought it would be possible. Jungkook was one of his own. He and Yoongi started saving money for their boys when Jongsuk got married.

"No, no. I mean..." Jungkook scratched the back of his head. His plan didn't go as far as asking his bosses to sponsor his fake wedding. "I just wanna tell you that I'm engaged. You know, just in case someone asks you. We've been together for a while now."

"We know." Namjoon was confused. He looked at Yoongi, who was busy drinking tea. The captain didn't look bothered. "Yoongi, didn’t you tell me before that these two are dating?"

"Huh?" You and Jungkook were perplexed. Did Yoongi come from an alternate universe? Or did he hit his head? Because there was no way either you or Jungkook told Yoongi you were dating.

"Aren't you brats dating since you were 10 years old? The other kids complained about you two flirting during missions." Yoongi said in a flat tone.

You and Jungkook looked at each other. With tacit understanding, you decided not to refute the captain's belief. After all, the sole purpose of this conversation was to make them believe you and Jungkook had a thing. Oh well.

The second person you and Jungkook talked to was Ji-eun. Unlike Yoongi and Namjoon, prosecutor Lee was not easy to fool.

"You're pretending to be dating to get Hanni under your custody, right?" Not just that. She even exposed your lies. As expected of a great lawyer.

You looked at Ji-eun proudly, "So...? Can we trust you to keep this to yourself?"

"Of course." Ji-eun did not hesitate. "You have the attorney-client privilege."

With that, your conversation with Ji-eun ended. You also asked her to relay the news to Jongsuk and Jimin to save time. You and Jungkook were conserving your energy because you thought explaining your situation to Taehyung would be difficult.

Taehyung, your dumbass of a friend.

To your surprise, you didn't have to waste your brain cells trying to make sense of the setup you had with Jungkook. All Taehyung needed to hear was the word marry and he was already pulling you and Jungkook to Sora's grave.

You asked Taehyung why.

"Are you kidding? I owe Sora 3,000 won now. We've made a bet before. She told me you and Jungkook would be engaged in your early thirties. I guess it's my fault for thinking you're gonna drag it until you're in your forties. But you can't blame a guy, can you? You're both stubborn."

With the lies perfectly set, pretending came easy. No one batted an eye with how 'lovey-dovey' you and Jungkook were. The dinner was fun, though the children made it a little chaotic. You did not mind since you were learning to live in the presence of screaming children. Honestly, you admired Ji-eun for keeping a straight face while her kids go crazy. She was pretty chill. Jongsuk was the one tasked to calm the kids.

Speaking of kids, you were worried after talking to Hanni's teacher. She said the daycare had arranged a family trip for their students. You and Jungkook had to accompany Hanni to this event. From what you heard, the parents and their kids needed matching costumes. There would be games that would teach the little ones the importance of family values.

Fortunately, the event fell on the weekend, so you and Jungkook did not have to worry about work. These past weeks, you were learning to take things slow and enjoy life's little moments. You had to remind yourself that you were not running out of time. You did not have to constantly take on many cases to prove to everyone that you were a good lawyer.

"Don't stress yourself too much with our costume, okay? I already have it figured out." Jungkook assured you one evening. The trip was tomorrow. How could you not overthink? You still hadn't seen the costume in person.

"Would you just tell me what you bought for us? I don't trust you."

"Why not?" Jungkook was sulking. "I've thought about it carefully."

"You don't know my size, dumbass." You were going to kill him if he bought something inappropriate or too small for you.

Jungkook's lips curved up. He looked at you from head to toe and said, "Nah. I got it right."

Your knee-jerk reaction was to cover your chest. Jungkook scoffed and told you he was not a pervert.

You didn't care about what he said, especially when the day of the trip finally came. Hanni's teacher came bearing bad news. You thought you had lost your mind when she told you that you, Jungkook, and Hanni were staying in the same room and bed.

This setup was supposed to make the children feel closer to their parents. After all, not everyone had the luxury of spending time with their kids—daycare was even established because the parents were too busy to look after their children.

Hanni was delighted to be spending the night with you and Jungkook. Unfortunately, she recognized the deep frown on your face. She knew you were not happy about this.

"Terni, don't you want to sleep with me and Jungkook-boy?" Hanni's mood plummeted, making your heart drop. You didn't want to hurt her feelings.

"Of course not, sweetheart. It’s just that..." You tongued the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say. "Jungkook-boy and I can't sleep in the same bed."

"Why not?" Hanni folded her little arms across her chest. You did not speak, so she turned to Jungkook. Sadly, Jungkook wasn't sure what to say either. He was as surprised as you were. He just scratched the back of his neck—this was one of his bad habits every time he was lost.

You sighed, knowing you had to explain things yourself.

"Because Jungkook-boy and I aren't like your mummy and daddy."

"You're not!?" Hanni was shocked. She wrinkled her forehead. "But you said you'll take care of me for a hundred years! Isn't that the job of a mummy and daddy?"

You were running out of excuses. Besides, you couldn't tell Hanni the whole thing. Frieda and Kiyomi were not yet done with their deliberations. You couldn't expose yourselves early on.

"I'll just sleep on the floor," Jungkook said sheepishly. Frankly speaking, he was embarrassed. He was the one who attended the meeting regarding this trip. Jungkook knew you two would stay in the same room, but in his defense, he thought there were two separate beds. Jungkook would disagree if he had known there was only one bed. He would not take advantage of you like that. He wouldn't do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable, either.

"Or I'll just book another room. Don't worry about it." Jungkook stood up and gathered his things. He was halfway through the door when you stopped him.

"You can stay," you swallowed thickly. Jungkook's eyes lit up, but he still did not know what to say. "No need to book another room. The teacher and the other parents might get the wrong idea. We can't show them we're not happy we're staying together."

"Then I'll just sleep on the floor." Jungkook offered genuinely. He wasn't trying to sound like a sad boy, yet that was the vibe Hanni got from him.

Hanni's little shoulders sagged, "But Jungkook-boy, the floor will hurt your back!" For a three-year-old, Hanni sure knew a lot. You guessed this happened when your mom was Sora Kang—the girl who loved potatoes so much but was willing to break them in half and give them to a random stranger with a growling stomach.

"We can sleep in the same bed, alright?" You rolled your eyes to hide your nervousness, "This sounds awful, but Hanni will 'sort of' be our divider. She sleeps in the middle. I will kick your ass if you snore."

Jungkook nodded his head obediently. He was happy he wouldn't have to deal with a stiff neck and a sore back.

"And shower first! I don't like stinky men in my bed!"

Jungkook and Hanni followed your instructions before getting into bed. Both of them realized how much of a clean freak you were. However, you still find sleeping hard despite adhering to all pre-sleeping routines.

You glanced at the wall clock. It was past one in the morning already. Jungkook and Hanni were sound asleep beside you.

You don't usually find it difficult to sleep in a new place. In fact, you were used to it since your job required you to meet your clients all over Japan. The hotel room the daycare had booked for tonight was pretty decent, too.

The air conditioner worked well, and the duvet was clean and soft.

Damn it. You slightly tossed and turned, desperately looking for the perfect sleeping position. In the end, nothing worked.

It was quarter to three in the morning. You released a defeated sigh, resigning to insomnia, and were just about to play with your phone when Jungkook suddenly spoke.

"Can't sleep?"

Goosebumps pricked at your skin because of how raspy his voice was. You turned to face him, about to apologize because you thought you'd accidentally woken him up by tossing and turning. However, you were shocked when he handed you the only pillow he was using.

"What's this?" You asked dumbly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes lazily. "Oh, come on. You know it's a pillow. Just accept it, alright? We both know you can't fall asleep with just one pillow."

Oh.

He remembered that?

Jungkook seemed to have read your mind. He breathed out and pillowed his arm. His gaze was on the white ceiling as if reminiscing.

"I can't forget even if I want to. All my memories of our camping days with Captain Yoongi are just  you complaining that you can't sleep."

So that was it. Captain Yoongi used to arrange many camping trips before. He did not separate the sleeping quarters of girls and boys. He always said, "Accidents and disasters can happen anytime. You can't choose who you're with when that happens, so learn to suck it up and deal with the situation with both your friends and enemies."

What Captain Yoongi said made sense. Jungkook learned how to be more patient as he spent the camping days calming himself despite your whiny ass.

"Hey, he made us sleep with a single pillow, okay? My neck hurts." You accepted Jungkook's pillow and tried to lower your voice so as not to wake Hanni. The kid knew how to throw a fit when disturbed. "Thanks."

Jungkook hummed and closed his eyes. You looked at his sleeping figure, feeling your heart flutter. Jungkook had long lashes. From your angle, you could also see his Adam's apple bobbing and his broad chest heaving. You suddenly wondered what laying your head against his chest would be like. Was it warm? Did his heart beat slowly? Or fast? Would it calm you down? Would its sound finally make you doze off?

There were so many questions swimming in your head. Unfortunately, you still couldn't sleep despite exhausting your mind. You tried clamping your eyes tighter, but it was useless.

You didn't remember drinking coffee earlier. What about milk? Should you try downing a glass of milk to help you sleep? Perhaps counting sheep would help. Or maybe you were just craving physical touch.

Right.

Your eyelashes fluttered when you suddenly felt Jungkook wrapping his hand around your thumb. He started stroking your fingers.

Your breath caught in your throat—

"Sleep." He whispered gently, "You are safe here."

—And then your breathing evened as he continued caressing your finger. His actions and words seemed to be the potion your mind was looking for because you really did fall asleep a few minutes later.

The following day, you were awakened by the alarm and a little monkey climbing your leg.

"Terni, wake up!" The monkey was shaking your leg and hips. "Please! Please wake up! It's family day today!"

"No. I wanna sleep!" You cried begrudgingly. Why must a little monkey and an annoying alarm disturb your sleep?

Have they no conscience? This was your first time sleeping peacefully, so you tried kicking the monkey at your feet and hugged your pillow tighter.

This pillow was pretty good. It was warm and sturdy. It even smelled like fresh air and a bit loamy.

Good. You thought you could stay in this position forever as you rubbed your cheek in the pillow.

"I'm starting to think you're not actually sleeping and are just taking advantage of me." The pillow talked, forcing you to stop pinching the pillow and open your eyes.

The world seemed to stop when you were met with Jungkook's lukewarm gaze.

"Is your pillow soft and warm, Empress?" Jungkook quirked a brow, his lips curving into a teasing smile.

You gasped. All this time, you were pinching and caressing Jungkook's biceps, not a pillow! Your head was comfortably leaning on his chest, too.

Scandalous! This was all too scandalous! How dare you wrap your legs around his hipbone. And Hanni! Hanni was still latching on your leg while playing with the hem of your nightdress. 

To make things worse, Jungkook chuckled lowly in your red ear and said, "Who's the pervert now?"

No!!!!!! This was your last straw. You pulled Hanni away from your leg and immediately got up from the bed to sprint and lock yourself in the bathroom.

Damn it. This day was not how your morning should've started!

***

You did not have a crush on Jungkook— this was what you kept telling yourself while stuck in the bathroom. 

It did not matter that all you could think about was him as you bathed. Or how you couldn't stop seeing the image of him standing behind you to gather your hair in one place so you could brush your teeth better.

You ignored the fluttering of your heart as you thought about how good he had been to you the past weeks, of how attentive he was to your needs. You thought it wasn't a big deal how he gave you the only pillow he had for the night, or how he held you in the police station, or how he decorated the house with daisies every day—yes. Jungkook's madness with flowers never stopped ever since Kiyomi and Frieda's visit. He also habitually checked the mailbox first thing in the morning. You pretended not to understand why, but you knew he was checking if baby breaths were on the doorstep.

There were also times when you went home late because of work. Jungkook would then stand outside the Kang' residence, pretending to enjoy the night stars, but he was just waiting for you to come home.

You brushed off how much you appreciated his jokes, how he distracted you from the pain of losing your best friend, and how he took care of Hanni when he saw you were overwhelmed with everything. Nothing mattered to you because you were not in love—you didn't have a crush on Jungkook.

'Keep telling yourself that,' The voice inside your head betrayed you, yet you stood your ground and ignored the seed of feelings that had long since bloomed into colorful flora.

You were annoyed during the family trip. Not only were you being pestered by your damn feelings, but you were also tormented by how ridiculous you looked.

"Terni, come on. We're late!" Hanni banged her little fists on the hotel room's door. She and Jungkook had been waiting for you to come out for quite some time now.

"Go on without me! I'm not going out there!" You hissed, itching to remove your pink gloves.

"Oh, come on." You heard Jungkook's voice. He also banged the door. "The ceremony is about to start. Let's just go, please?"

You did not open the door as an acquiesce to Jungkook's soft plea. You only showed yourself to them so you could hit Jungkook in the face.

"This is your fault!"

Jungkook let you hit him. He simply chuckled at how cute you looked.

"What are you sulking for? It's not so bad!" Jungkook playfully pulled at your fake whiskers.

You hit him again. "What do you mean it's not so bad! I look stupid!"

Jungkook really exceeded your worst expectations. Who would have thought he'd buy matching rabbit costumes for the three of you? You swore to kill him if he bought something inappropriate, but honestly, you felt a slutty rabbit costume would be better than the rabbit onesie he chose. To make it worse, Jungkook purchased the pink one for you. He had the blue one, while Hanni wore a pastel purple—it was obviously the result of combining the colors pink and blue.

Now, the three of you looked like a happy family. It would have been fine if Jungkook chose a royal or superhero costume. But a rabbit? Seriously?

“Those are overrated,” Jungkook told you this when you complained about not having a Wonder Woman costume. Truthfully, you had seen two families near your hotel room wearing DC superhero costumes.

“Let’s take a picture together. I’ll send it to Kiyomi and Frieda.” Jungkook carried Hanni into his arms and pulled you closer to him. He brought out a camera and took a photo of the three of you.

You couldn’t complain after that since the two dragged you out to participate in today’s activities. Soon enough, your embarrassment did not matter as your competitive side resurfaced to shit on everyone.

It started off fun. Some parents and kids praised you and Jungkook for taking the games seriously. But things started going downhill during the segment called Family Trivia. Your family was leading by ten points, which didn’t hinder you from scoring more.

Old habits indeed died hard. You felt like you were in school again, feeling the thrill of answering rounds of questions. You lost your mind whenever another team answered the question first.

“The word family is derived from the word famulus!”

Hanni’s teacher was about to give the other family a point for scoring, but you pressed the buzzer to complain. The teacher looked at you in defeat, wanting to ignore you but couldn’t.

“Her answer is incomplete!” You argued. You were quite embarrassing, really. You reviewed the questions and games the teacher gave each family more than thrice. This was where you focused your energy; that was why you couldn’t check the trip itinerary and didn’t see you and Jungkook were sharing one bed.

“The word famulus is Latin. It means servant. Say, teacher, give us the point, not to them!”

The teacher looked apologetically at the family that was robbed of point. She couldn’t argue with you since the rules said the answers must be complete.

The other families stared at you contemptuously, but you didn’t mind since Hanni and Jungkook were cheering you on. Jungkook had also never grown out of his competitive phase. His heart swelled with pride as he raised his hand to give you a high-five.

The participants for the next game were the father and his child. Hanni would help Jungkook build a tent. It took the other families twenty minutes to set up their tents, but Jungkook and Hanni did it in less than 10 minutes—this was kudos to Jungkook’s training at the police academy and years of practice doing it during your camping days with Captain Yoongi.

None of the families wanted to talk to you by the end of the games. They thought you ruined the fun for their children. Some kids even scoffed at Hanni, leaving your poor goddaughter crying.

Your heart ached to see Hanni sad. You couldn’t help but blame yourself for taking things this far. It was your competitiveness that ruined Hanni’s reputation at the daycare. Needless to say, Jungkook rubbed yours and Hanni’s back, telling the two of you that you’d win back their hearts before the night's end.

However, you didn’t seem to have a chance to do that when rain suddenly started pouring. You were currently at the top of the mountain. The hike down wasn’t too far, but the ground would be slippery. It was already getting dark. The plan was to sleep in the tent the fathers and children set up earlier, but that didn’t seem viable now.

“We’d like to apologize for this unforeseen event.” Hanni’s teacher was apologetic. It was their mistake for not checking the weather forecast more clearly. “Let’s just wait for the rain to stop; then, we can all hike and sleep in the hotel instead. Don’t worry. The daycare will shoulder all expenses.”

The teacher’s statement did not pacify the parents, as their children started whining and throwing a fit because of the lightning and thunder. Hanni was the only well-behaved child—kudos to Jungkook for sitting with Hanni back at home and educating her about navigating rainy days.

“It’s okay, Jungkook-boy. I’m not scared.” Hanni assured Jungkook. Your heart recoiled with joy seeing them like this. The feelings you had been hiding since morning threatened to resurface again. This time, you were utterly defenseless and were left with no choice but to step back and let the arrow pierce your delicate heart.

 Jungkook was a good guardian—a better father than most men you knew. Any woman would be lucky to have him father her children.

You looked around. Most fathers did not know what to do when faced with their crying child. Some tried to subtly scold the little kids for acting up. The others did not bother to hide that they were pinching the kid’s arms to get them to calm down. The mothers were feeling distressed, too.

You abruptly stood up. Hanni was sitting on Jungkook’s lap. Both of them met your gaze and asked where you were going.

“I’ll talk to the teacher. Just give me a minute.” You did not wait for their response and just headed in front. The teacher was having a hard time calming down the kids. You signaled that you wanted to talk, so she nodded and found a quiet place for you to converse.

Several seconds later, you stood before the parents and the students while holding a guitar. Hanni’s teacher borrowed this instrument from one of the families cosplaying as a family of performers.

“Hello, everyone ~” you greeted them. Only a few spared you a glance as they were still busy pacifying their crying kids. You proceeded with your mini-speech and told them you’d be singing a song.

“Kids, you need to listen to the song, alright? Don’t think about the thunder. Just focus on the melody." Then you strummed the guitar strings. Along with it was the light tugging of your heartstrings. Music, particularly singing, was your passion. It was your escape whenever things started getting overwhelming.

Soon enough, the thunder was overpowered by your singing voice. Call it a miracle or just pure talent, but your melodious voice caused peace to seep through everyone’s heart.

You were singing You’ll Be In My Heart by Phil Collins. You were both excellent singers, but something in your voice made you stand out more. Perhaps it was because of how painfully raw your voice was—when you sang, you didn’t just sing with your mouth. You sang with your heart. 

You created your own version of the original song that no one could recreate, not even the most prominent voice impersonator. Your voice was like kisses and candles and warm hugs. You were like the last bit of sunlight before the raging storm. And when the storm was over, you were the rainbow—the colorful hues that told people there was hope. 

The children stopped crying. Jungkook was the first to stand up and clap his hands like his life depended on it. The other followed suit; whistles and laughter echoed the place.

A little while later, the rain finally stopped, and Jungkook’s claim turned out to be correct:

You’d won the people’s hearts before the night ended.

***

The path going down the mountain would take ten minutes or so. It was also a straight and smooth trail, so the kids wouldn't find walking difficult. However, the adults didn't have the heart to let these three-year-old children walk. Luckily, there were mountain wagons they could ride.

Hanni was hanging out with her friends again. Your singing voice really warmed them up. They thought Hanni was pretty cool for having a guardian whose voice was as good as Elsa from Frozen and other Disney princesses.

"Does this mean you're demoted to being just a princess, Empress?" Jungkook teased you on the way back to the hotel. You two were walking beside each other.

The teacher, parents, and other officials guided all the kids in the wagon. Jungkook decided to walk at the back of the group, his police lieutenant personality kicking in. He wanted to make sure no one was left behind.

You figured you'd just accompany him as you didn't want to converse with other parents. Besides, they were busy looking after the wagons.

"Shut up, you lowly subject. This empress felt happy, so I thought, why not appease my people?" You shot back at Jungkook. He laughed at your poor attempt to talk like a royalty. It was funny, considering you were still in your rabbit costume.

Jungkook encircled his hands on your waist and pulled you near him, ensuring you didn't hit any trees. He hummed, "I haven't heard you sing in years."

Of course, he had not. Law school and your life in general fucked you up so badly. You had experienced failure after failure to the point that you questioned yourself—starting from the things that defined you to the things you loved and hated.

You wondered if you would ever amount to more. Failures took such a great toll on you that even the thing you loved the most didn't feel fulfilling anymore. There was a point in your life where you thought you didn't have the right to make music—that it should be reserved for people who were good at it and not someone like you who just loved it.

"That's cause I haven't sung in years." You admitted.

Jungkook cast his gaze on the ground. His heart was uneasy, wanting to ask you a question, but he wasn't sure if he had the right to.

"Last time I sang was when I was with you."

Your voice was barely above a whisper, yet Jungkook still heard it. He paused. Then he looked at you intently.

You weren't lying. Years ago, you were passionate about music. You even composed your own songs. Sora and Taehyung used to listen to your work all the time, but those two were easily distracted and would just tell you, "It's good." Of course, you still appreciated it.

However, you seemed to be looking for something more. You thought of Jungkook at that time. He was down and feeling edgy the past weeks. It was because his mother got into an accident and ended up needing leg surgery.

Jungkook barely ate, worrying about his mother to the point of insanity. You couldn't take it anymore, so you once went to him with a guitar.

"I'm not in the mood to fight with you," Jungkook warned. There were no biting remarks in his tone, just pure exhaustion. The fire in his eyes was extinguished, too.

You rolled your eyes and sighed.

"I'm not here to fight. I just need you to listen to me sing."

"Huh?" Jungkook flinched. He was clearly perplexed about what you said. Did you seriously want to sing in front of him? Were you sick? You never liked to sing whenever Jungkook was around. You said he ruined your mood, so what changed now?

"It's just that..." You trailed off and copied his habit of scratching the back of his neck. It was a good thing you could immediately think of an excuse, "You're my rival. Rivals talk shit a lot about each other, right? I'm joining a singing competition soon. I want you to hear it first, and then you can criticize me all you want. I need to hear them."

Jungkook was not convinced, but he let you be. After all, it was easier to listen to your angelic voice rather than fight you.

You sang your own composition. It was not a love or a heartbreak song. Jungkook sat there dazed, wondering why his heart unexpectedly felt light as you sang words of encouragement—it was as if you were telling him that the huge storm would pass, and all that would be left was a mother's loving embrace.

Jungkook felt tears filling his eyes. He blinked and wiped them before you could see.

"How was it?" You put down your guitar. A gracious smile was plastered on your lips.

It's stupid. I hate it. Don't sing again. These were the words Jungkook wanted to say because these were what you were expecting. But Jungkook was not a liar and was always vocal about his feelings. The first time he met Ji-eun, he did not hesitate to tell her she had pretty hair.

"Thank you," Jungkook ended up telling you. His voice was unbelievably soft that your heart couldn't help but melt. "It was beautiful." You were beautiful.

It sure was. Jungkook did not know what else to say, but it was okay. Later that day and the following days, Jungkook was back to his old self.

He could eat and smile again.

He then asked about the singing competition, but you shrugged and said, "Nah. I don't want to join anymore."

Only a few years later did Jungkook realize that there was no singing competition in the first place.

Jungkook's eyes drooped. You were already in Seoul when he found out about it. Sometimes, he entertained the idea of confronting you about it. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity to do it, but Jungkook just caught your wrist instead of asking you about it.

"Hm?" You stared at him innocently. He stopped walking, and so did you.

"Would you..." Jungkook swallowed hard and licked his lower lip. He felt his heart stuttering.

Your eyes were glistening despite the lack of a moon in the sky.

"Would you...sing a song for me again?"

There was a pregnant pause in the air. You blinked at Jungkook, and for a moment, Jungkook thought you would say no. But then you gently cleared your throat and nodded.

"Let's walk." You pulled him and started descending the mountain. You two were keeping a good distance from the group of people. From here, you could see Hanni laughing heartily with her classmates.

The wind blew, hugging you and Jungkook with its coldness.

"All I knew this morning when I woke, is I know something now, know something now I didn't before~"

When Jungkook asked you to sing, your mind instantly went into autopilot and sang whatever your heart told you.

Everything Has Changed—the song title was exactly what you felt for Jungkook. Wasn't it funny? You went to Busan for your dead best friend.

Sometimes, you felt guilty you were not mourning her enough—that Sora was dead, but your treacherous heart was beating like it never did before.

There was death, but there was also rebirth—the blooming of something you thought you buried for good and left with not even a trace of sunlight.

Daylight had come.

It went in the shade of all right and tall guy with gentle eyes.

Jungkook smiled softly at you. He did not react until you finished singing.

You were almost down the mountain. The kids and the others were already at the foot. It was just you and Jungkook here.

"How's my singing, Your Majesty the Emperor?" You intended to go for a light teasing, but something in Jungkook snapped when you called him emperor.

You were the empress, weren't you?

No words were exchanged. Jungkook put his hand on the small of your back, drawing you in.

Jungkook had kissed other people before. Whenever he did, he always held their cheeks before diving in. But with you, it was different.

He first stroked your head before his right hand gently held the back of your head; his other hand was still in the small of your back.

Jungkook stared deep into your eyes. It was as if he wanted to touch your soul with how intense yet languid he looked at you.

He seemed to want to memorize every part of your face—afraid you'd vanish if he so much as blinked.

But looking was not enough. He wanted a taste, too.

Jungkook wetted his lips, leaning in. Then, very slowly, he inched closer to you as if giving you time to push him away.

You did not.

But Jungkook was still so afraid. His eyelashes quivered before he dipped his head and gave you a soft peck on the lips.

There were no fireworks or grand and flowery words people read in novels.

The kiss was just it—a kiss.

There were no intense feelings, but there was Jungkook and his soft eyes and open heart.

There were no fireworks, but there was the sound of inserting the key in the door lock, then came the twisting of the knob before the door opened.

There was no rollercoaster kind of feeling in that one kiss. Because the only thing here was home.

Kissing Jungkook felt like coming home.

PART 2

likes and comments are highly appreciated 🙏 it motivates me to write more 😉💙

Y/N of this fic patterned to my IRL best friend. i love her so much pls listen to her cover of You'll Be in My Heart as this is how I imagined Y/N singing the song.

[da-man-si]

Some people are hating on Li Rong after episode 12, saying she is a vicious and vile woman who deserves to be used by Su Rongqing…and that she doesn’t deserve Pei Wenxuan.

I strongly disagree. In fact, I like her character. She has flaws, many flaws and sometimes I have shouted “girl no” at the screen because she does jump to the wrong conclusions a lot. Her personality has been moulded by the palace environment. She is proud, privileged, a hardcore skeptic and keeps her emotions reserved. Imagine a princess (mind you, she’s an eldest daughter) growing up in a palace where almost every person she’s interacted with is power hungry, even her mother and father. The treachery and bloodshed she must have witnessed. All over power. In her past life, she bent to all that. She would do what the powerful people wanted. She would convince her brother, the crown prince, to do what those people wanted.

She desperately wanted to find a trusted companion in Pei Wenxuan because she thought he is not from the palace and won’t go after power. She thought he will choose her and love her for her, Li Rong and not The Princess Royal. But in comes the trust issues when she sees him with Zhenzhen in his arms. She had taken one step forward in trusting him but then she took three steps back. Because trusting and communicating isn’t her forte. Those who have dared to trust in the palace have met with disappointment leading to death. Did her trust issues come in the way of Pei Wenxuan loving her? Yes. Do I hate her for it? No.

She does not become vicious or vile because she is unable to trust people. It is very tempting and easy it is to follow your fears and overthink shit all the time. She spent 40 years living this way so it will take some time for her to rewire her brain and resist and reject the urges to doubt.

I get that people are mad because Pei Wenxuan has put his heart out to her and she is still doubting him. But, that’s why I like her character. Because when she slams open the doors to herself and lets him in, that would be character development moment.

I don’t know what choice she will make in episode 13 but despite whatever choice she makes, I just want to put it out there that her trust issues come from complex, dark emotions and memories and not because the writer wrote a stupid and cruel female lead. Let’s not let the love for the male lead blind us to the point of hating the female lead because she doesn’t reciprocate his trust and feelings.

[milswrites]

One More Day

~Eris Vanserra X Reader

Series masterlist

Summary: Eris had let you go in the hope that distancing himself would protect you from his father. However, the damage has already been done. What lengths would Eris go to in order to ensure your safety?

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of sex, mentions of torture, fighting, character death

Notes: Promise it’s a happy ending

Eris had been swift to leave your room the next morning once dawn had broken, having done so whilst you were still asleep. The sheets which were still radiating warmth from where he once laid, were a painful reminder that last night had really happened. That your beloved Eris had selflessly let you go.

The fire in your room had completely extinguished whilst you slept and in the absence of the burning heat which once kept you blissfully warm, a cold chill had taken its place, settling into your room like an unwelcome guest.

You clung tightly to the smoke and chestnut scented sheets where the male had spent his final night with you, wanting to absorb all the heat remaining in hope that it would provide you with some modicum of comfort. However, your efforts were futile, the damage had already been done.

It took an unbelievable amount of time for you to muster up the strength to leave your bed. The chill, however, had finally gotten to you. Settling deep within your bones until it caused your spine to tingle and the hairs on your arms to stand on end. Seeking warmth you crawled out from beneath your covers to run yourself a steaming bath.

Even the enveloping heat of the tepid water could do nothing to soothe your aching heart. Soaking in the bubble-filled tub only reminded you of the times you shared this special moment with Eris. Both seeking to reach that delectable high together as you met each other’s desperate thrusts, water spilling from the tub onto the cold wooden floors below. Or even just the times where Eris had sought you out after a particularly bad day with his father. You could picture it now, the Autumn prince lying peacefully between your bare legs, eyes closed in satisfaction as you carefully washed his body for him, releasing all of his unwanted tension as you littered his body with sweet kisses.

The truth was everything would remind you of Eris. The past few years together had provided some of your happiest memories, there was no way one night of pain and detachment provided by him would change that, nor the love you felt so deeply for the man. Moving on was unnegotiable.

With the shock of last night slowly fading from your system, and your need for Eris only growing stronger in his absence, despite the finality of his words, perhaps now you would be able to have your say in the situation. You would find the wounded male and beg him not to end things, promise him that there would never be another male who could please you in the way he does and that you would wait a thousand years and a thousand more for his father to die if only it meant you could be with him once the day finally arrives.

You decided there, soaking in the now luke-warm tub of water, that you would fight for Eris Vanserra. Fight for the man who assumed he only had himself to protect him. And you would spend the rest of your days proving to him just how much he deserves to be loved in the way he has done so to you and his court.

~~~~~

Once dressed, you exited your chambers in search of the Prince, hoping he would be locked away, alone in his office, so you would be able to sneak in unnoticed. You walked quickly through the corridors, keeping your head down to avoid attracting any unwanted attention.

Unfortunately your bad luck from the previous night had carried through to today as you turned round the corner, entering the corridor where Eris’s office is found, only to come face to face with your cruel High Lord, flanked by a number of his guards.

“My Lord, forgive me” you apologise for being in his way, providing him a small, nervous curtsy before stepping to the side, allowing him to pass.

He sneered at you but made to continue on his way. Relief flooding into your system as he passed, until he did a double take and slowly turned to face you, malicious grin finding a home on his face. “Y/N dear! How lovely to see you,” he simpered, words failing to veil the scheming tone hidden in-between his sugared words, “It has been too long since we last spoke, wouldn’t you agree? Please, entertain an old man and walk with me.”

You couldn’t think of anything worse, yours eyes flickering to the waiting door of Eris’s office as you prayed to the cauldron for him to appear and see what was unfolding outside. To no such luck the red-haired male did not emerge from his room, instead Beron blocked your hopeful view of the door, his expectant eyes meeting your own.

“Shall we?” He pressed, holding his arm out for you to take. There would be no declining your High Lord’s offer for fear of what would entail if you did. Bowing your head in acceptance you wrapped your arm around his, allowing him to guide you to wherever he was heading.

Every inch of your body was tense with nerves, you were sure the male could feel it through your interlocked arms. That and you were convinced that just like the hounds Eris bred, Beron could smell the fear dripping from you, using your panic to fuel his blood-curdling power.

“I must say,” he mused as he led you, “I had almost forgotten you existed until I heard your name spoken by one of my sons yesterday. It was quite the surprise.”

Your heart raced, nausea clawing at your throat at the realisation of his words. Eris’s brother had told him. Your love had been too blind to notice the fire that had already been started behind his back. His ending of the relationship between you was too late. “My name, my Lord?” You asked with as steady a voice as you could muster, not wanting to reveal anything more to the man who was no doubt testing you.

“Indeed!” His unsettling grin was enough to cause your eyes to sting with tears that begged to be released, “you see, he seemed to be under the impression that you had been receiving nightly visits from my eldest son.”

“Eris, my Lord? I dare say that’s not proper.” You said pouring every ounce of innocence and surprise into your words, praying that he would not see through them. His smile as he gestured you to enter the room he had stopped before, his throne room, told you everything. Your words meant nothing to him. There wasn’t a single thing you could say that would convince him otherwise.

One of his guards stepped past the two of you, your arms still interlocked no doubt to ensure you couldn’t escape, and opened the heavy door of the throne room. A small circular table was set up near the dark, ominous throne at the back of the room, three chairs surrounding it and a steaming pot of tea placed tidily in the middle. A panicked breath caught in your throat, he had been expecting to run into you in that corridor, you running into him had been no mistake. Beron had always planned to bring you back here to await whatever nasty punishment was to come.

He mocked a sarcastic gasp at your visible anxiety, pulling you towards the table and helping you to take a seat, “There’s nothing to worry about dear, you’re very safe with me. Please, join me for a drink whilst we wait.” Beron needn’t say who you were waiting for, the empty chair which stared at you from across the table made it obvious. He was waiting for Eris.

The Autumn guards split, two standing by the door in anticipation of the Prince’s arrival and two stood behind you, all with their hands on the hilt of their sheathed swords. Ready to attack if either you or Eris did anything rash.

Content and in his element, Beron poured you both a tea as you slipped your hands around the delicate china, hoping to absorb some strength from the warmth it provided.

“Have I ever told you the story of Lucien’s first love?” He said it casually, as if he were sat at the table sharing the company of a close friend, not a low-born fae who his eldest son had taken a liking to.

“No, my Lord,” you answered, unsure of where this was going, Eris rarely spoke of his estranged brother, not wanting to rub the salt in the wound of their strained yet healing relationship. He promised you he would introduce the two of you one day and that was enough for you.

The curiosity in your voice seemed to please the Lord whose smile never failed to falter, even as he drank. “She was simply beautiful,” he started with an evil glint in his eye, “like you of course. Although not like you I suppose, she was a lesser fae you’re just a low-born.” You stilled not sure if you wanted to be compared to this unfortunate woman who no doubt served as a painful lesson for poor Lucien.

Beron continued his story, “My son thought himself in love with her, can you imagine?” -a cold laugh broke from his throat- “if there’s one thing I pride myself for it’s my control. My power. Sometimes I feel like my sons like to test me, it’s only natural I suppose, growing up in the position they did. I had to teach him a lesson of course. Power is power after all…”

He trailed off, a watchful eye hovering over your steady expression, daring you to react to his words. Your mask stayed strong so he carried on speaking, “I crushed the weed at the source. Showed my son the control I held over him, over my court. You know, it’s funny I can’t say I even remember the poor things name, just that she died screaming.”

The cup was now trembling in your hands, scalding liquid spilling onto your skin, yet you remained unflinching. “An unfortunate lesson which had to be learned” you forced the lie from your throat, a pitiful attempt to please the High Lord. Not wanting to end up like that poor girl, like Lucien’s lost love.

The Autumn King opened his mouth to speak once more, no doubt to throw some more thinly veiled threats in your direction. His words, however, were interrupted by the doors to the hall flying open with vicious force. Eris had arrived.

~~~~~

If you weren’t already doomed before your love’s arrival, you most definitely were now. Eris did not even attempt to mask the emotion on his face. His face which was contorted into a harrowing mess of guilt, shock and pain at your presence in the room. An expression which you prayed to never again see on the prince’s face. Which of course, if things continued the way they that were going, you wouldn’t have to.

“What’s the meaning of this!” He demanded, striding angrily across the long room towards where you were sat with his father. The two guards behind you drew closer, one raising the cold tip of a dagger to your neck, a warning to the Autumn Prince. The other two cards by the door exited the room, closing the doors to stand watch and ensure no one would interrupt what was about to transpire.

“I seem to have found out about your whore” Beron snarled at the attitude his son was defiantly displaying towards him. That was until he reminded himself that he had the higher ground and the blade against your neck, which instilled him with confidence as he spoke, “I won’t deny I’m not hurt my son. Hiding such a beautiful gem from me. And what a sweet thing she is, I would be lying if I said I didn’t crave a taste.”

Eris growled at his father’s words, “Don’t speak about her like that.”

“Or what son” Beron matched his son’s ferocity, standing abruptly from his seat to move towards him, “you’re in no position to threaten me!”

“I- I…” the usually deadly composed Eris Vanserra was struggling to find the words to spit back at his father. Beron hissed out a sharp laugh at Eris’s failure to talk, his eyes filled with wildfire, “But that’s exactly it, isn’t it dear son. Your little jaunts to the Night Court, the correspondence with your ruined brother, hushed plans to kill your own father.”

Eris’s eyes blew wide at the realisation that his father had been aware of his traitorous antics the entire time. “Yes I knew” Beron spat at his son’s feet in disgust, “so I think it’s time I taught you the same lesson I taught Lucien. Remind you of the reason why I’m in the one charge!”

At the High Lord’s words, the guard holding the dagger to your throat drew it even closer, nicking your once unmarked skin and causing a trail of blood to trickle down your neck. Eris flashed his worried eyes towards you, unsure of how to act to ensure your safety.

A grim expression settled on his face as the young prince reached to his waist and unsheathed his sword. He had to make a stand now or be at risk of losing everything he had worked so hard for and held so close to his heart.

~~~~~

Beron laughed callously, drawing his own sword in preparation for the fight ahead, “let’s see how the great Eris Vanserra matches up against his father shall we?”

It was a horrific sight, the two men battling. Yet you couldn’t help but notice there was a beauty to the way the males moved. Flames and swords clashed together in a firey dance. Violent shades of flickering reds, oranges and even white hot blues, reflected in your eyes as you watched on in fear.

The day Eris had longed for, promised you in the hours spent cuddled together in his bed, had finally arrived. And you just had to trust that the male you loved was strong enough to end up the victor of this battle.

It was roaring fire against roaring fire. Yet where Beron’s flame was wild, crackling and unpredictable, Eris managed to keep his controlled and blazing. A testament to all those centuries spent training for this very moment. It was a miracle how the heat being emitted from their destructive fight hadn’t consumed them both alive and taken you and the soldiers with them into the sweet embrace of death.

It was getting more and more difficult for you to watch, the heat so extreme your eyes were burning with the effort of keeping them open amongst all the sparks flying wildly and the thick smoke filling the room.

Until it happened. The moment Eris had waited for all his life. A slip of control from Beron who was so consumed by his rage allowed for Eris to make the final strike. The long sharp blade of his sword ran through his father’s chest. The injured man gasping in surprise before collapsing in a bloody heap on the floor. Dead.

The fire Eris had created dimmed but didn’t burn out completely, not while you were still in danger. A crazed Eris turned to you, fire in his eyes. The dagger shook against your throat but somehow the soldier stayed firm, even with the new High Lord stalking towards him. A hound closing in on its prey.

~~~~~

But Eris needn’t act. The dagger suddenly dropping from your neck as the perpetrator joined the dead Autumn King on the ground. Behind him stood the other soldier, the same soldier who all those months ago proved his loyalty to Eris by not telling Beron of your hidden relationship. He had saved your life twice now.

Eris relaxed, sword clattering to the ground in relief as the loyal male knelt down before him, before his new High Lord. A man worth following. But Eris was blind to his devotion, his only need being you. Stumbling towards you, you met the male halfway. Crashing into him so you could deliver the most heartfelt hug you could muster. The soldier leaving you two in peace to deal with Beron’s men waiting behind the door.

Your bodies entwined and melted into one as you and Eris sank to the floor together. Pearlescent tears flowed down his face and you kissed each and every one of them away, drawing the salty liquid from his cheeks. “I was so scared” the male sobbed as you drew his head into your chest for comfort, brushing his hair softly with your hands.

There were no tears from you. Not today. Not when you were so overwhelmingly proud of the male before you. Of the male who had not just saved you, but his entire court from the cruel grasp of his father’s bruising control. It was a new day, and the first of many beautiful ones to follow as the Autumn Prince comes into his power and takes his rightful place on the throne.

“It’s ok” you whispered lovingly into Eris’s ears, “you’ve done so well my love. You can live your life now. We can live our life. Together.”

As the broken but healing male looked up hopefully into your loving eyes, the spark shared between the two of you ignited once more, and the blazing fire, which burned so brightly it could be likened to the sun, returned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: You know what would be perfect to finish this off?!? Sweet soft smutty goodness 😭 Never written smut before but lord I may try, but I’ll need your encouragement 😭😭 so possibly a third and final part to come?

Taglist:

@crazylokonugget @glitterypirateduck

[reallyromealone]

Back to you part 2

Angst, omegaverse, male reader

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

(name) just stared at the blond man holding him close, this is what he wanted for years.

Its what he dreamt of.

But more than anything?

He was absolutely filled with a rage he didn't think was possible.

"Shit--" Mikey was pushed away from him as an angry omega glared at him "I lost my baby because of you" (name) spat out, body shaking not from fear but from everything Mikey's actions had put him through emotionally and physically. "(Name) it was for--" "I dont give a FUCK what it was about, all I know is one day my mate is there and the next hes dead! I HELD A FUNERAL FOR ALL OF YOU! I LOST MY BROTHERS! I THOUGHT MY ENTIRE FAMILY HAD DIED!" (Name) screamed as he pushed mikey back, the Alpha letting him do this because... He knew be deserved this.

"You promised Manjiro" (name) had fat tears rolling down his face "I was holding your grandfather's hand as he passed, did you know that? While you were off doing god knows what? Instead of seeing his last living grandchild he saw the broken grandchilds mate who he abandoned" (name)s voice was venemous as he looked at mikey dead in the eyes. "Those closest to my heart faked their deaths and abandoned me" (name) was now laughing and Mikey never felt fear in a long time but for once?

He was terrified.

(Name)s face went serious as he stormed out and into what seemed to be a lounge "(name), its a pleasure to see you again" Ran said calmly, assuming the poor heartbroken omega would run into his alphas arms.

But he was dead wrong.

"Get the fuck away from me before I burn this god forsaken building to the ground" (name) said coldly as they looked to see Mikey looking disheveled but not in a post sex way, in a he got his ass beat way.

"(Name) we can explain" Kakucho tried to appease the half-feral omega who wanted nothing more tham to beat the ever living shit out of them "I dont need one" (name)s tone was cold "You guys wanted to play crime lord without an omega keeping the boss weak" (name) said simply, it was obvious despite his rage "you guys killed his heir by the way also this piss idea made him look like absolute shit"

"Watch --" Sanzu was cut off with a harsh glare "watch what Haruchiyo? Watch the fact my loved ones live their happiest lives as i deal with the loss of literally my entire family? The child I was going to tell my Mate about when he was supposed to get home? Only to find out he died with everyone else and THEN after years find out oh look theyre alive and living the life of luxury" (name) gave a cold cruel laugh "elaborate to me, what should I be watching?"

They remember how (name) was before they left, sweet and always deverted to Mikey no matter what.

This?

This was a stranger.

A changed person.

A person hurt beyond repair.

"I spent my life mourning a fucking lie" (name) said almost methodically.

"I wasted my life mourning a man who clearly didnt love me"

"I did love you" Mikey was forceful as he grabbed his mates shoulders and looked at him with a desperate expression, the face of a man who wasnt ready to lose his mate "dont you love me?"

"I always loved you" (name)s voice was empty "but I also know betrayal, you betrayed me... You all did"

"And didn't you teach me never negotiate with traitors?"

The room halted as mikey looked at him horrified "you cant leave " Mikey said almost begging "what like how you left me? At least im giving you a warning" (name) fired back and tried to escape mikeys hold but the alpha held him tight.

"Please..." He begged and (name) was cold.

"Where was my chance to plead for you to stay? Why do you always get the options?" (Name) snapped as he started struggling to get out of his hold, it seemed after all these years mikey got stronger somehow.

(Name)s inner Omega pleaded with him to accept their alpha but (name) absolutely refused.

What mikey did was beyond exuse.

(Name)s body went limp as he spoke "after this, I dont think I can look at you guys... At least for a very long time..."

The room was filled with so many negative emotions, it was almost suffocating.

(Name) eventually broke free and wandered to the elevator, the guards looking at Mikey for what to do and the alpha rushed to hold (name) "p-please..."

"Keeping me here wont fix things"

"Please let me fix this...please"

[kurosstuff]

HIII I was the one who requested the Lute fic and I absolutely loved it!!! I was wondering if I could request again, this time could it be a Carmilla x Reader, where she ( and her daughters ) gets redeemed and when they get to heaven they find reader who is Carmilla’s spouse ( GN! Or Male reader please ) and they realize that reader doesn’t recognize them because those who go to heaven don’t remember those who went to hell, just a lot of angst hehe

( again if you aren’t comfy doing this it’s alr ^^ !! Thank you !! )

I've never written her before I hope I did her good?♡

Also! I do only write GN! or female reader(can't write male readers I'm sorry♡)

Also what's her daughters names? I looked ut up and I'm getting like a mix of answers so their names aren't stated csuse of it

But♡ hope you dont mind how angsty I made it with? A twist♡♡

Carmilla x reader: Heaven *cruel* rule.

Carmilla didn't see herself as a angel. She's a demon for fucks sake yet- the ones more deserving to be redeemed were her daughters. But they only entertained it if she would.

So like any good mother? She joined them. Not wanting her daughters to be left behind. Wanting to ensure their safety. She trusted Charlie enough but her trust doesn't include.. the odd bunch she allowed to be helpers to the sinners on the path to be "winners"

She truly thought the dream was just that. A dream. Nothing more then just a childish wish Charlie had but here she was in heaven. Her girls in the rightful place- smiling she glanced down at her gold ring.

Maybe she'll see you- her love once again? In the only rightful place you should be in.

Heaven

She smiled at the thought.

Carmilla fidgeted something felt.. off today as she walked around heaven. Her daughters are not long behind her, holding her dress in nerves. Humming seemed they also felt the same. "My daughters~ don't worry were safe now, ok?" Her new bright wings fidgeting still uncomfortable at the new feeling looking up she froze - seeing the angel - her love - the spouse she had in the living world before she was stripped away from them in death. A bright smile came onto her face seeing you- healthy- happy.

-

Turns out Heaven? Does have rules

Alot

Humming going through a book of rules Carmilla was so close to just giving *up* trying to find another angel was JUST as difficult with all the rules added to it. How there's a wait list but.

No one under Carmine other then her and her daughters were anywhere was there stated of another person. Frowning closing the book. Sighing, she stood up, stopping to smile at one of her daughter

"Did.. you find them, mother?" Smiling sadly, she walked to her, holding her hands out, pulling her into her arms. Her wings automatically curling around her daughter as a cocoon as if? To protect her

"Not yet, my daughter.. but I will"

-

"Mama- is that-" her eldest asked, whispering out watching her parent. The one she and her sister sobbed for years seeing them not with in the afterlife. But seeing you in heaven? She couldn't help but be glad you were in such a safe place.

As if sensing someone looking, you turned seeing the three newcomers moving to walk up to them to the strangers

"There you are my lo-"

"hi~ I'm glad you made it in heaven~ what's your names? I'm sure there's helper angels for new angels~" you cut off Carmilla accidentally pulling out a almost scroll looking thing "sorry I'm well aware in hell some technology is more advanced and all but~ in heaven some things like this? The council loves the old feel~" humming

Blinking, she tilted her head now. Confused? Why weren't you throwing yourself in her arms? Not calling her your love? Your wife? Bile reached the back of her throat and now an unnerving feeling. That something? Is very, very wrong here

"Do you not know me?"

That made you stop looking up at her, slowly tilting your head in thought, "..no I'm sorry, I don't believe we ever met~" before she or her daughters could ask more a voice called out- making a huge smile appear on your face the same one you used to give her- her blood ran cold.

A beautiful woman stepped out of a house holding what looked like a child. Blinking, she watched as she walked to you, kissing you gently happily humming. She finally realized. The lack of a ring on your finger- well you did have a gold band. But not your band. Not the one you wore during your marriage. Not the one that matches hers.

"I'm sorry, my friends~ My wife needs me for a moment~" Do you need any more help?" After handing her the letter with the angels name to help her and her daughters - gently wrapping her arms around them, pulling them close, sensing how upset they were rightfully so.

"..m-may I ask what the little ones' name is?" Voice breaking, making you smile, grinning looking over at her "her names Carmilla~ I don't know why, but.. the name felt very important~" Purring out kissing the child's head gently making her close her eyes nodding

Turning she guided her daughters away from her lover- her now ex lover. Not stopping until they all reached their new home. Pulling them close sobbing along with them "did they abandon us?" In her tearfully state she didn't know who asked bur she was quick to shut that idea down kissing her daughters heads

"No, no- they'd never - not in a million centuries... heaven.. heaven makes angels forget demons. It's a cruel thing.. that I forgot about - im- I'm so sorry. " Holding them closer, sobbing loudly with them until they passed out from exhaustion looking out the window tearfully sorrowful. Like the day she lost you- she lost you permanently.

She couldn't WOULDN'T tell you. It'd be wrong. Even though she wishes to kiss you. Have you in her arms once more. She wouldn't do that to you. Or your wife. Especially with your child. Its none of your faults for the law of heaven and hell. But - she couldn't help but think. If she wasn't such a horrid woman in the living. Didn't get her daughters involved? Would she have gone to Heaven with you?

Would that child be hers?

It was a cruel, sick thought she quickly took away. Looking down disgusted with herself. She sighed

"I hope your.. happy my love" she whsipering rubbing the band on her finger. She needed time. Then she'll finally take it off. Closing her eyes she sighed.

Love is.. painful.

[rallamajoop]

Queer lit of the 1800s: Two gay Victorian vampire stories you've probably never heard of

So, I have this post in the works tackling that all-important question: just why are there so many gay vampire stories? But in writing it, what was supposed to be a brief tangent about a couple of little-known m/m vampire stories from all the way back in the late 1800s era… started expanding into something not-so-brief, as such tangents are prone to do.

But what the hell, the internet tells me it's queer history month: clearly the only solution is to give those stories their own post, where my tangent can spin out as far as it likes!

Now, if you know anything about Victorian vampire literature or the lesbian vampire genre, you’ve probably already heard about Carmilla, by Sheridan le Fanu (1872), the world’s very first (known) lesbian vampire story. To this day, it's easily the second best-known and widely adapted tale in all the Victorian vampire canon (after Dracula, obviously) – and it probably deserves to be too.

But this is not a post about Carmilla, because Carmilla is not the only gay-vampire-story written way back in the Victorian era. It's not even the least subtle gay-vampire-tale.

There are (at least) two others, both featuring male/male vampire/human pairings. And whether or not they ‘deserve’ to be remembered in the same breath as Carmilla, they’re both fascinating works in their own rights: Manor, by Karl Heinrich Ulrichs (1884) – one of the world’s first gay activists – and A True Story of a Vampire, by Count Eric Stenbock (1894).

You can read both online. A True Story of a Vampire is long out of copyright and can be found on Gutenberg (Carmilla is too, if you're interested), and many other places. Manor has been translated into English only much more recently, but you can still get hold of it in pdf form, or buy it in ebook format. But if what you really want are some summaries, and/or whole lot of extra context and analysis to go with the stories themselves, I've got you covered below.

Manor (1884), Sailor Stories, and Karl Heinrich Ulrichs

We’ll start with Manor, since it was published ten years before our other example, and because I’m not quite cruel enough to leave you going "wait, did you really just tell me there was a legit gay activist writing vampire slashfic in his free time way back in the 1880s?" while I ramble on about the other story first. We'll start with the author himself, because his own story is at least as interesting as any fiction he ever published.

Born in Germany in 1825, Karl Heinrich Ulrichs knew from a young age that he was attracted to men. He trained in law, but wisely resigned before he could be fired in 1854 when his proclivities came to the attention of his superiors. Most in his position would've redoubled their efforts to hide; Ulrichs spent the next several years joining societies dedicated to science and literature and developing his own theories about non-hetero orientations, before officially coming out to his family in 1862.

He was just getting started. By 1867, he was ready to come out to the whole world.

Ulrichs is far from the first gay man to recognise his attraction without shame and find society in like-minded individuals ‒ but he may well be the very first to come out voluntarily and publicly, and advocate for the decriminalisation of homosexuality. And when I say "publicly" what I mean of course is, "in a formal address to the Congress of German Jurists." He was shouted down, but it was still a staggering act of bravery for a man of his time. It would still be a staggering act of bravery in many parts of the world today.

Undaunted by his reception, Ulrichs would also publish a dozen booklets advocating for rights for his community between 1864 and 1879, framing their sexuality as natural, inborn and wholly benign. In 1880, after multiple arrests for his political advocacy, he left Germany for self-imposed exile in Italy, where he would remain until his death in 1895. But it's during this period that he published some poetry, as well as Sailor Stories, a collection of four short stories inspired primarily by Norse mythology, including Manor (which we’ll get to, don’t worry).

Though Ulrichs saw little legal success in his lifetime, through modern eyes, his greatest failure might be only that he was so far ahead of his time. When he began writing and advocating, the word 'homosexuality' didn't even exist yet ‒ he himself used the term 'Urnings' for gay men, eventually coining terms for variations like 'Mannling' and 'Weibling' (gay male equivalent of 'butch' and 'femme') as well. He also came to recognise bisexuality, lesbian attraction, and even intersex conditions, theorising that all resulted from some combination of male and female characteristics developing in the same individual, as the available knowledge on embryonic development suggested might be possible. For a guy with only Victorian era science to work from, that's still remarkably close to the modern consensus today.

Nor did Ulrichs' work die with him. His writings would go on to inspire and be republished by gay rights movements that followed him ‒ including the work and advocacy of Magnus Hirschfeld, who created what may be the world's first trans-affirming clinic. Even in his own time, responses from his own readers show much his work meant to them, reassured at last that they weren't alone.

So how does a German activist from the 1880s find himself publishing gay vampire fiction based on Norse mythology while living in exile in Italy? I only wish I knew. My sources suggest his main goal with Sailor Stories was to publish something that would sell. Unsurprisingly, given the subject matter it seems to have sold very little. Manor is the third of four short tales, and by far the gayest of them all. It's also (IMHO) by far the best, and the most interesting.

Set in a Norwegian fishing village, Manor tells the story of the romance between a 15-year-old boy called Har, and the titular Manor, a sailor 4 years his senior, who rescues Har from the wreck which killed his father. In the days that follow, the pair become close, and Manor takes to swimming across the bay on summer evenings to visit Har at his home. And so they meet whenever they can, until tragedy strikes again, and Manor is killed in a shipwreck near the coast, leaving Har inconsolable with grief.

But this being a vampire story, in the nights after Manor’s death, something is seen swimming across the bay to Har’s home, just as Manor used to do. Har is visited night after night by the spectre of his beloved, who lies beside him in bed, strokes his cheek with cold hands, and kisses him with icy lips, draining his blood from his heart, "like an infant at its mother’s breast." Har himself awaits each night with mixed joy and fear, longing to see Manor again, even in such a form.

As Har weakens, the villagers attempt to trap Manor in his grave by hammering a stake through his body, but he continues to visit Har nonetheless, now sporting a gaping wound in his chest. The villagers return with a new stake, widened at the base like a giant nail, and finally, Manor is restrained in his grave. But it’s too late for Har: weakened and heartsick, he dies, begging only that he should be buried beside his beloved at last. Neither rise again. 

Though I can’t speak to how it reads in the original German, in translation, Manor is relayed in largely workmanlike prose. Its tale is short, simple, and sad – but so much about it fascinates me all the same.

(Draugen, Theodor Kittelsen, 1891)

There’s the incorporation of elements you might better recognise from Norse draugr folklore – revenants more typically associated with deaths at sea, or charged with guarding their own graves ‒ but still far more closely related to the vampires of Slavic mythology than most people probably realise. Manor is also one of painfully few stories which clearly recognises what is surely the original purpose of hammering a stake through a vampire’s body: not to kill it, but to hold the creature down and prevent it from leaving its grave. As a hopeless vampire-nerd (I've presented panels at conventions about this stuff, it's dangerous to get me started), I can’t tell you how much I love those aspects of this story.

But above all, Ulrichs’ tale captures what might be one of the oldest and most traditional versions of the folkloric vampire: the spectre of a lost loved one, and the potent mixture of fear and twisted longing thus inspired, that the weight of their loss might drag you down into death to join them. Many ‘real’ tales of vampirism have been inspired by outbreaks of wasting diseases like consumption, working their way through a family, one member at a time. But in Har’s case, it is clearly grief as much as Manor’s physical visits that claims him. He loves Manor so much that he welcomes his lover back, even as a revenant. In his own way, Har too is cursed by Manor’s death to wander the world like the walking dead, until finally reunited with his lover once more.

Nowadays, tragic love stories like this tend to get an eye roll from a lot of the queer community. The old ‘bury your gays’ trope has been done to death, and we’re largely sick of being told that noble suffering is the best we can hope for. But it’s notable nonetheless that Manor’s sexuality has no bearing on his death, and little about the story would change were Har female. It's far from clear if the rest of the village even recognises Har and Manor's love for what it is, let alone whether they'd disapprove ‒ after all, vampires will often go after friends and acquaintances when lovers and family members are exhausted. As such, it’s hard to read the village’s attempts to keep Manor in his grave as a simple matter of prejudice. They're also genuinely trying to save Har's life.

And yet, the way Har keeps the undead Manor’s visits a secret, even begging for the stake to be removed so they can resume, echoes the real experiences of so many gay and lesbian couples far too clearly to be accidental. And however disturbing to a contemporary audience, Har’s willingness to follow his lover to the grave leaves little doubt of the depths of his feelings. To an audience in the 1800s, even the most cliched example of bury-your-gays would be revolutionary.

Did I mention that this story fascinates me? There are layers to this thing.

For completeness, I’ve also read the rest of Sailor Stories (and you can too at the same link). Only one of the other three tales contains any queer romance: the first, Sulitelma, where a boy called Erich falls for a handsome sailor called Harald he meets aboard a spectral storm ship. But there's no happy ending: his sister falls for the same handsome sailor, and shoves Erich overboard to his death to eliminate her competition.

Atlantis, the second story in the collection, is a direct sequel to Sulitelma, but it's even more bizarre. Erich is barely mentioned, and instead we find ourselves reading a tale which I can only summarise as like something I might have found on fanfiction.net back in the early aughts, written by some 14yo trying to straightwash the original material. Here, Harald and some of his fellows go on shore leave to the land of the phoenix, populated by Greek nymphs and Cupid, and mildly comedic hijinx ensue. It is fascinatingly bizarre, but not exactly satisfying as a read (or a sequel).

The final story, The Monk of Sumboe, tells of how two close friends destroy their relationship and themselves with their fixation on the tale of an alluring siren. There's a solid concept in there somewhere, but it's far too short and abrupt to do much with it, and all the characters remain strictly heterosexual. But if there's one thematic detail that ties it to the rest of the collection (beside the many Norse elements), it's that hopeless longing for something others would warn you away from ‒ whether that be a phantom ship, a visit from a vampire lover, or an elusive siren. None of these tales end well for their protagonists, but we're drawn to sympathise with them nonetheless.

I cannot guess what reception Karl Ulrichs expected in publishing this book. Sailor Stories is neither a work that could expect good reception from mainstream audiences or a defiantly-radical queer masterpiece. What did people make of it in its own time? Was it read and cherished by at least a few boys or men like Har and Manor? I’d hope so, but I’ll probably never know.

If you'd like to read more about Karl Ulrichs, I can recommend (among my sources) this New York Times article for a quick overview of his work, or the various work of Michael Lombardi-Nash and Hubert Kennedy (link 2). You can also read the first chapter of his published correspondence online for free.

A True Story of a Vampire (1894), and Count Eric Stenbock

Our second Victorian vampire tale was first published in English, though it was written by a Swedish Count. Like Carmilla in its own day (and quite unlike Karl Ulrichs), both story and author seem to have flown largely under the radar until many years after publication, the queer subtext little noted or commented upon (if at all).

If nothing else though, A True Story of a Vampire aptly demonstrates that at least someone of that era spotted what Carmilla was really about – because he wrote his own version, only about men. Stenbock’s tale is effectively a much shorter, gender-swapped version of Carmilla – but with a larger age gap between vampire and victim lending the story uncomfortable pederastic overtones.

"Vampire stories are generally located in Styria; mine is also," it begins – though I couldn’t name you any vampire story from the era besides Carmilla set there. The narrator, the surviving sister of the vampire’s victim, is called ‘Carmela’, if you needed further proof.

Much like in Carmilla herself, the vampire, Count Vardalek (a Slavic term for vampire) arrives at their house after being forced to seek local hospitality when some convenient ‘accident’ interrupts his travels. There, he bewitches and slowly drains the life from her brother, Gabriel – a boy described in terms variously angelic and fey, a wild thing who befriends wild animals and would rather climb a tree to a window than take the stairs to his own room, but who cleans up beautifully for church – a sublime, cinnamon roll of a creature, far too good for this sinful earth, too pure. Gabriel is a true male equivalent of the likes of Dracula’s Lucy, feminised further still by his youth and innocence. Had a vampire not got him, one can only imagine he’d have eventually have been spirited away by the fairies.

Gabriel and the mysterious Count are drawn to one another immediately. Even as Gabriel wastes slowly away, he greets Vardalek eagerly each time he returns by throwing his arms around his neck and kissing him on the lips. Count Vardalek himself seems to be a vampire of the psychic variety, gaining in health and vitality while Gabriel wilts, merely after spending time in one another’s presence. Vardalek himself seems to genuinely regret Gabriel’s inevitable death, but unlike in Carmilla, there’s no rescue at our conclusion. Gabriel dies, and we’re given no reason to assume he’ll rise again.

To the modern reader, the true horror of this tale lies not with the vampires or even the homoeroticism, but with those uncomfortably pederastic implications. Gabriel can’t be more than twelve years old, his youth and innocence emphasised in his every description. Pains are taken to suggest that Gabriel’s own attraction to Vardalek is as much responsible for his fate as the vampire himself. Gabriel’s father is similarly bewitched by this charming stranger, and never recognises the danger, or the reason for his son’s tragic death. Even the narrator, his loving sister, cannot truly hate Vardalek for taking her brother from her – even when her father dies of grief soon after. Gabriel’s fate seems sealed from the moment the Count enters their home.

But knowing how often real child molesters get away with it, their actions excused or downplayed by their family, their victims accused of ‘seducing’ their abusers and made complicit in their own misery… I can only say that, for my money, A True Story of a Vampire is a very effective horror story in ways the author probably never intended, once you start to question the reliability of its narrator.

It won’t surprise you to learn that the author, Count Eric Stanislaus Stenbock, was a (very) gay man, deeply involved with the gothic and decadent artistic movements of his day. Born to a Swedish Count and an English heiress, Stenbock seems to be remembered less for his writing than for his character. In The Oxford Book of Modern Verse, 1892-1935, W.B. Yeats describes him as a "scholar, connoisseur, drunkard, poet, pervert, most charming of men" ‒ naming Stenbock as an exemplar of the poetic zeitgeist of the age. Notably however, none of Stenbock’s actual poetry is featured in the volume.

Stories about Stenbock are so bizarre that it’s hard to know how much should be believed. Eric Stenbock supposedly travelled with a multitude of exotic pets and a life-sized doll he referred to as his 'son', dabbled in religions ranging from Roman Catholicism to Buddhism, and decorated his dwelling with peacock feathers, oriental shawls, a bronze statue of Eros and a hanging pentagram. One acquaintance once compared him to a 'magnified child': "very fair hair beautifully curled, and a blond, round, blue-eyed face," who paused at the door and "took a little phial out of his pocket, from which he anointed his fingers, before passing them through his locks." But by his thirties, he was already dying of liver disease after years of alcoholism. He passed away at only 35.

Stenbock’s surviving artistic legacy consists of three volumes of poetry and one of prose, with some of those poems including explicit references to Ganymede or male lovers. So how did he escape the same controversy that dogged similar works by other queer creatives of his day, like Oscar Wilde or Walt Whitman – let alone Karl Ulrichs? Well, simple: his work never attracted enough attention to generate real controversy. Stenbock may have been just as much a character as figures like Wilde, but he hadn't nearly the same talent or success.

One last minor biographic detail that may be worthy of note (discovered courtesy of some very poor-quality scans of his one proper biography) is that the youthful Gabriel of A True Story of a Vampire may owe his name to a real Gabriele ‒ a female cousin ten years Stenbock’s junior, whom he would've spent time with in his teens, and seems to have been especially fond of. Whatever the true significance of that name, he'd use it more than once in his fiction: another short story, The Other Side: A Breton Legend, also stars an angelic little boy called Gabriel, with a similar dangerous attraction to the strange. It features some lovely mood and imagery as it sets the scene, but (perhaps as a result of the lack of a suitable model story like Carmilla) it is, in my opinion, a much weaker story overall.

But again, the most disturbing aspect of Stenbock's biography are the hints about his own relationships with much younger men. His second book of poetry, Myrtle, Rue and Cypress, is dedicated to three people: Simeon Solomon (a gay painter of the pre-Raphaelite movement, whom he met at Oxford), Arvid Stenbock, Eric's cousin, and to "the memory of Charles Fowler" ‒ the son of a Clergyman, who died of consumption at only 16.

This enigmatic dedication is all we know about Stenbock's relationship with Fowler. We don't even know how the they met (Fowler seems to have had a relative at Oxford at the same time as Stenbock, but even this is speculation). But that dedication, in a book which will go on to feature poems about the beauty of Ganymede, or explicitly addressed 'To A Boy' (Tis ever a delight, dear, To gaze upon thy face, To love the life within thee, Fair fashioned, full of grace) makes it hard to read Stenbock's feelings as remotely platonic.

It doesn’t help that the same volume includes a poem about an actual vampire, published ten years before A True Story of a Vampire would ever be penned, but with very comparable subject matter:

With slow soft sensual sips Draw the life from the tender spray, And brush from thy soft lithe lips The bloom of thy boyhood away

It's worth keeping in mind that Stenbock himself would've been only 21 at the time of Fowler's death, and that we don't know whether he ever acted on his attraction (whatever form it may have taken). He may well, as I've seen suggested, have kept his admiration private, idealising the image of the beautiful, dying boy in his final days, in that classic Victorian-gothic way. But it doesn't help that Stenbock's cousin Arvid, from that other dedication in the same book, was 8 years his junior, and that their family apparently disapproved of their relationship as "unnaturally close." Or that another famous Stenbock-associate was Norman O'Neil, a composer whom he met on a London omnibus in 1891, when O'Neil too was only 16. Stenbock was apparently taken by his intelligence and beauty, and would go on to leave him a considerable sum of money in his will. By 1891, Stenbock would've been 31, but his fixations hadn't aged with him.

So how are we to take all this? This was an age where a marriage between a 16-year-old girl and a suitor of Stenbock's age would scarcely have raised eyebrows. Uncomfortable as it may sound today, for many queer youths of the era, a romance with someone older and experienced enough to play mentor may genuinely have represented the safest real option available. There are layers of complicated subtext, meanwhile, in the idea of any gay man of the Victorian era casting himself as a vampiric monster, doomed to ruin the object of their attraction with their very touch. There may be layers more in Stenbock framing his tale as "A true story" before telling us of the misery a foreign Count brought to an innocent family, with his helpless fixation on their youngest child.

It's worth noting also that even in Manor, by Legit Gay Activist Karl Ulrichs, our love story is between a boy of 15 and a man of 19 ‒ an age gap of only 4 years, but large enough at 15 to raise some serious eyebrows. His first story too, Sulitelma, involves attraction between a man and a boy (exact ages unknown). Though Ulrichs explicitly viewed relationships with prepubescent children as reprehensible, he seems to have had no problem with relationships between young teens and much older adults ‒ even printing a story sent in by a reader (details in this article), joyfully recounting how he (the reader) was initiated into the world of male/male love as a 14-year-old by his brother's riding master. Ulrichs saw no reason to disapprove.

To confuse things for anyone looking this up today, google Ulrichs, and you'll find a number of online articles claiming that his own first experience involved being sexually assaulted by a riding instructor when he was only 14. This is wrong on multiple fronts: not only is the story related by Ulrichs as a positive experience, it wasn't even Ulrichs it happened to. No, shit like this would not be okay if it happened today (and frequently wasn't then), but we don't help ourselves by distorting the stories told by our queer forebears to fit modern expectations.

But none of that surrounding context makes the youth of the day any less vulnerable to predation, or Stenbock's fixation on youthful beauty less creepy. Today, no evidence remains to help us guess whether idealising the beauty and innocence of youth was the greatest of Stenbock's actual crimes, or the least of them. Anything is possible.

In brief: welcome to the joy of trying to reconcile the complicated place of pederasty in queer history! I'm afraid you can look forward to seeing a lot of it from here on back.

A True Story of a Vampire is not a bad work of fiction by any means. There are some lovely descriptions and entertaining turns of phrase, and the horror is certainly effective. It may even be considerably more readable than Carmilla to many, simply for being so much shorter. But how you feel about it is really going to be up to you.

One last digression about Carmilla and Christabel

There’s one additional work that I’ve once or twice seen listed as an even earlier queer vampire tale: Samuel Coleridge’s unfinished poem Christabel (1800) – the only problem being there’s no vampire in the story (and how queer it is may be questionable too).

Like Carmilla, Christabel tells of a Baron’s daughter (the titular Christabel) who comes upon a mysterious stranger in apparent distress (Geraldine) and invites her into her home. We never learn what kind of being Geraldine truly is (three further parts were planned in addition to the two that were completed), but when she undresses, Christabel spies something that horrifies her, remembering it later with the words "Again she saw that bosom old / Again she felt that bosom cold." But under Geraldine’s spell, Christabel’s recollection of this incident comes and goes, and Geraldine has soon bewitched her father too.

All ‘evidence’ that Geraldine was intended to be a vampire rests on such details as Geraldine having to be carried past an iron gate into the house, much as vampires have to be invited in – but that particular vampire trope wasn’t actually codified until a solid century later (like most vampire-tropes, we have Stoker's Dracula to blame). The idea that Geraldine has the cold, shrivelled body of the undead and revives herself on Christabel’s blood is a perfectly valid reading, but the more obvious interpretation would be that she’s some manner of shapeshifting fairy creature, weakened by the iron of the gateway, not the entrance to Christabel’s home. The aristocratic literary vampire had existed for over 40 years and appeared in numerous works of fiction by Carmilla's day; but Christabel predates the origins of the genre a solid two decades. For Coleridge to have come up with the idea independently seems vanishingly unlikely.

I mention Christabel here partly for completeness, but mostly to bring us back around to the greater family of Carmilla, which is still legitimately the first known queer vampire story. Though far better known than any other story discussed here today, how it came about is perhaps the most mysterious.

Sheridan le Fanu was a prolific writer, but I don’t know of any other story he’s penned with subtext like Carmilla's (and I’m not quite invested enough to read all of the rest to check, though someone totally should so I don't have to). Le Fanu was married, and had children, and that's all I can discover about his personal life. Was he some shade of queer himself? Did he have connections to anyone who was? Did he even realise what he was writing with Carmilla? Nothing I’ve read about him provides any answers. Nor can I tell you how many readers spotted the subtext it the story was first published. In its own time, it caused no great scandal, nor even seems to have garnered much attention (by contrast, Byron & Polidori's The Vampyre caused an uproar when it was published in 1819, mostly thanks to Byron's established fame and debates over its true authorship). It took until well into the 20th Century for it to obtain the reputation it has today.

But I’m sure it’s no coincidence that it was Carmilla that spoke to Stenbock enough that he chose to retell it. And while A True Story of a Vampire is still the only other vampire story of the era set in Styria, there was almost another one: Dracula, at least Stoker’s early plans for the novel. Styria also remains part of the unused prequel chapter later published as Dracula’s Guest. The setting isn’t the only detail Stoker nearly-borrowed from Carmilla either, my favourite example being the weird schedule by which both she and Dracula seem to have to be in bed in their coffins at dawn each day, both apparently helpless and immobile in sleep, though both are also repeatedly seen up and about later in the day. Neither tale offers any real explanation.

Have I mentioned lately that Stoker, too, was almost certainly some shade of gay?

Now, the fact that two different queer writers both found Carmilla so very inspiring – and would even both publish their own works of vampire literature within five years of one another – isn’t much to go on, in trying to establish what a story like Carmilla might’ve meant to England’s queer population some twenty years after it was written. Maybe Carmilla was being eagerly passed around London’s own Uranian gothic societies at the time. Or maybe two different men happened upon it by chance in wholly different circumstances, and took very different things from reading it. Maybe Stoker didn’t even notice the queer subtext himself. But I can’t help but wonder if just maybe, there's something more than coincidence at work here.

Carmilla the vampire is an explicitly villainous character, her victim confused and unwilling. But she remains one of the most complex and sympathetic vampires of her era. And perhaps, to a community who had never seen Ulrichs’ writing published in their own language, and might never see themselves represented in fiction except as monsters buried in layers of protective subtext, that still meant something to readers like Stenbock, and Stocker, and who knows how many others.

In short, maybe old, gay vampire stories like these really are worth remembering. I'll leave that one up to you.

[supercriminalbean]

Hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Hotch x Male reader, the team get a case that leads back to an old unsolved case of a group of children going missing and start showing up dead at different ages from sever injuries from fighting(?)

Reader is part of the bau but has alot of secrets to hide including being one of the younger children that went missing and managed to escape but not without physical and emotional scars (being forced to play a cruel game of survival of the fittest for the entertainment of the Unsub who streamed the gruesome cruelty)

Maybe the unsub captures reader cause he was the one that got away and the team start to peice together reader was one of the missing kids by how fast reader state of mind went to a primal kill or die (like readers afraid he'll die there and no one will ever find him or know or care so when they do he's relived and breaks down but another part of him think he doesn't deserve it cause of what he's done to survive)

Hotch being there for reader

FIGHT CLUB

Aaron Hotchner x Male!Reader.

Summary: The reader is trying to find the group that ruin his life, but keeping it a secret from his team is differcult when he has to ask them for help.

Warning: Dark fic. Blood, fighting, death, abuse, kidnapping, swearing, drugs, unsub violence, bad eatting habits, bad self care, scars, angst. This whole fic is just dark and strange the ask it self is amazing and may help you know if this is something you can handle. (Any other warnings let me know xx)

Words: 9.4k

A/N: Hiiii! Omg this ask 😍😍 I love you!! I had to split this into a couple different parts due to I'm up to 12k words and got so much more i wanna add to it right now. Next part will be posted next week (hopefully!!) I just couldn't wait to post this. I did change it a little and hope this is what you were after. 🖤🖤 thank you for the request my love.

Part two. Part three. Part four.

Another body has shown up, and if you're right another kid will go missing in just a couple hours a few towns over from the latest body. You know it's just a matter of time as you read the article, one that barely has any information of the latest victim found, another teen boy. While the article prints out you give the detective on the case a call, you know you shouldn't, you should just let this go until your team is called in properly. But hey, there is no harm in asking innocent questions, is there? 

“Hello, this is Detective Rose,” An older man answers.

“Hello Detective, I'm with the FBI, SSA agent (Y/L) from the Bau unit” Your voice comes out sharp as you hold back the emotions swirling in your mind. If this is the group you believe it is, you're going to have to bring your team in, but no way could they know just how long you have been looking for them.

“Oh Agent, how can I help?” The man's voice is filled with confusion.

“I heard you found a body of a teenage boy, I read in the report he was badly injured and a 

John doe, look I think he might be connected to a case I'm working and I need you to send me all the information and photos of this boy you have as soon as you can” You don’t have time to explain to him, nor the patience.

“Case, but there's only one body?” There's a small arrogance laying under his tone as he speaks his next words. “Plus he seems to be a runaway, he doesn’t seem like the type anyone would be after”

“Excuse me” You can’t help but sneer into the phone, anger filling you up. “How dare you, he is a child, someone has to be missing him and even if not he deserves justice, so I figure you better send me what I asked for before I called your boss” Venom seems to drip from your words as your grip the phone like your life depends on it. Silence fills the other end and your patience seems to dry up, opening your mouth to send him another order when he finally speaks up again.

“Of course we don’t need that, files and photos have been sent, reach out again if I —” You hang up before he finishes speaking, you don’t need anything more from him. 

~~~

Sitting on your couch, your mind spinning as you go through the new photos of the crime scene you have received. This is it, this is them, no doubt about it. He fits the victimology, he’s the right age, fit and covered in so many cuts and bruises it’s impossible to see his face. What makes your heart drop the most is the cut on his left forearm, two other previous victims also had it. You know how they got it, hell you got one quite similar to it. Which means you know where they are being kept and where they are going next which means it's time to bring your team in. Grabbing the pile of older files, ones that you have collected over the years, pulling the top few files off the top for the team to see, placing the older ones at the bottom of your to go bag. You can’t let your team know just how long you have been investigating this case. If you do things could unravel and your past could be exposed, the one thing that could never happen, because if it does you might not have a job any more. 

Your phone starts dinging, your alarm going off. Great you pulled another all nighter, something you have been warned against many times in the past month. 

~~~

Hotch has been on your ass a lot lately about looking after yourself, he’s the only one who can tell when you're struggling. Maybe that's why you're having a hard time figuring out how to bring this case to him. You know he’s going to know this isn’t just a regular case for you, you might be good at hiding your personal life and emotions from the team but that doesn’t include Aaron. You're not sure how you grew close to your boss, you two have hangout, outside of work many times, even including getting to know Jack and spending many weekends watching his soccer games, and of course getting ice cream afterwards as a reward. Somehow Aaron managed to get you to join them both for movie nights and your friendship has never been stronger than that night. But then you had to go and ruin it, pulling yourself away from him, when things started feeling real. You started feeling like you belong and not just with him, but with the team you're surrounded by. Belonging somewhere is something you have never felt before and it's terrifying, so you pull away from them all. Space is a good thing plus there were only a few reasons you took this job a few years ago and you need to remember that.

~~~

You're the first one at the office that morning, even beating Hotch to the office for once. You wait at your desk, your desk is different from the others. They all have personal items on their desk, things that make their desk seem more welcoming and comforting. Except yours, its fill of paperwork and a small fake desk plant that Garcia placed there one day that you just didn’t have the heart to move. Aaron arrives not long after you. Aaron stops by the glass door when he spots you, and he’s glad you're facing the other way so he can just watch you for a moment. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, the last few weeks you have been more off than normal. You're someone who keeps to themself and he knows that, maybe that's why he was surprised when you were spending a lot of your time with him and Jack. Not that he minded at all, he loves spending time with you, maybe more than a boss should but he shouldn’t be blamed when it comes to you, you're different. But when he was spending time with you, he managed to figure out your tell, and how you go inside your own mind when things aren’t right. Maybe that's why, even when you started putting more distance between you both, he couldn't help but remind you to get some sleep or remind you to eat, the two things you always seem to forget about. Aaron lets out a small breath, preparing himself for whatever the reason is that you're the first one here. The glass doors open and within a second you're spinning around in your chair, and the first thing Aaron notices is the files in your hands and then the bags underneath your determined eyes.

“Good Morning Hotch” Your voice is full of energy, which he can only put down to the empty coffee cup beside you.

“Morning, you’re here early” Aaron stares at you questionably, raising his eyebrow when you don’t respond.  “Is there a reason why?”

“I need to talk to you, it's important” You jump up quickly, meeting him in the middle of the room.

“Alright, my office then” He bites back a sigh as you nod enthusiastically, climbing up the stairs before him. He can’t help himself but compare you to a puppy, one who uses up all their energy but still refuses to back down when it's time to rest. He’s waiting for you to burn out, it may have been three years with you on the team, but he can’t help but wait for you to break. He doesn’t understand how anyone could keep going at the pace you do without any consequences.

~~~

You both enter his office, Aaron places his bag down before taking a seat at his desk, signalling you to do the same, so you do.

“Okay so I found—” You can’t help but start, holding your own homemade files,your leg bouncing as you speak.

“Stop” Hotch holds his hand up to silence you, dread fills your eyes as you do. “Did you sleep last night?” Accusation dripping from his words, his stern stare digging straight into your sole, making a strange shiver roll down your spine.

“That's not important” The confidence seems to slip by as he stares at you longer, you can’t help but sink in your chair, the uncomfortableness just making you want to run.

“But it is, I need to know my agents are looking after themself” Aaron holds back the proper lectures he wants to give you. Sometimes he wonders how you managed to become a full functioning adult with the way you treat your body, running yourself so low he wonders how you're alive at all.

“I look after myself perfectly fine Aaron” You have to physically bite your tongue to hold back the taunt you want to say instead, but you need him to listen to you instead.

“Do you, because you didn’t sleep last night, and can you even tell me the last time you ate something homemade?” 

“Last night” Smirking cockily at him, you indeed did make something last night so he can suck it.

“It doesn’t count if it was your usual cheese on toast” Aaron smirks as yours slowly disappears. 

“Okay, uncalled for Hotch” Grumbling as you place the files down before crossing your arms. “Look I get it, I need to improve, but I need your help on something much more important, please?” Your mask starts dropping, the fear and doubtfulness visible for just a few seconds, before you pull yourself together again, your face hardening up again.

~~~

“Tell me what this is?” Hotch reaches for the files, the pile alot bigger than he first thought it was.

“Someone is kidnapping teenages all over the country, and just hours surrounded the kidnapping another teenage is found dead a few towns over from the new victim, I have found about seven different cases over the course of 18 months so far, but the dead victims are never the ones from the recent kidnappings, they look older almost like they could have been kidnapped years prior maybe, they all have the same marks all over their body, the victimology is the same” You take a deep breath as Hotch flicks throughs the file. “The ones being taken are either from abusive households or already living on the street, they aim for the ones who are strong but not confident, they seem to find the quiet ones are go after them, but they are quick, they don’t leave much room for the kids to escape, they move fast” Your words seem to run from your mouth, the rush to get out of your mind and into Aarons ear makes you forget to breathe. The urgency is great and he just doesn't understand. 

“You keep saying they” Hotch looks up the files, his boss face activated, his lips pursed together. His eyes burn into you once more, you have to do everything in your power to not physically respond to that call out, unfortunately your body straightens up, your throat clutching. 

“I believe it has to be at least two unsubs if not more, and one of them could possibly be a woman” You take a deeper breath as your heart starts to pace, your mind screaming at you to stop as Aaron's eyes narrow more.

“And why do you think that?”

“Because they're fast, they move around the country, and according to the autopsy the kids are well nutritious, they cause of death is mainly blood lose, or hits to the head, I think—-” You quickly cut yourself off. No you can’t say that, you can’t let that detail out quite yet, he won’t understand, no one will understand not yet. “I think they must be keeping them somewhere safe before they dispose of them” You change the words that almost slip out quickly, but not fast enough for Hotch to not notice. Hotch watches you closely as you grow quiet, waiting for his response. Your leg bouncing as your nails dig into your arms, your eyes begging him to say something, just anything.

“What do you think they are doing to them if they are keeping them for so long then?” His question is innocent enough, but oh lord. Your stomach is now on fire, your eyes darken with anger as you speak.

“Training them to fight each other, fight to the death and then they keep the strong ones for who knows what” Oh but you know, oh you know too well what they are keeping them for and that makes you want to be sick. 

~~~

Silence fills the office as he stares at you, the anger that fills your eyes is something he hasn’t seen before, and he has seen you angry. But this is different, this is almost a murderous glaze in your eyes, something that makes Aaron uncomfortable. 

He knows what he has to do, even if he doesn’t like it. 

“How long have you been investigating this, how did you manage to get all of this information?” His voice is low as he speaks, his words filling with disappointment as he speaks.

“A few months” A lie, you both know that. But Aaron knows better than to question that right now, the can of worms that could open could be too hard to close.

“Why are you just bringing this to me now?” His voice raises, the disappointment sweeping out. “You should of came to me as soon as you saw a pattern forming” 

“I know I should have, but I wanted to see if I was right, maybe see if I could find any clues before bringing the team into a goose chase” You try to reason with him, gulping as if you know what you have to say. “I think I found them, and if I'm right another person was taken last night and I have a feeling that another body will be found near the state line of Nebraska and Wyoming, we need to take this case, we need to save them” A shaky breath leaves you as you lean forward, placing your hands on the desk, your eyes pleading. 

“Aar, please trust me on this” Gulping thickly as you see his eye flash with something unreadable as you say his old nickname, one you haven’t used in months.

“I need to make a few phone calls” He looks away from you as he picks up the phone. Standing up you smile slightly at him, thanking him quietly as you make your way out. 

~~~

The team soon arrives within the hour, where hotch is up in his office on the phone the whole time. Your body is on edge, sipping on your third cup of coffee as your mind runs. The team all stood around, talking and laughing as they usually do. Of course they try to get you to join in, but with one glance at you, they know this morning is not the time to get you to join in with them. It's Dave that talks to you this morning, his eyes couldn’t help but keep drifting to you as the team standing around teasing Reid and his crosswords. 

“Hey kiddo” Dave stands in front of you, pulling you from your mind, and mainly your eyes off Aarons offices.

“Ah, Morning Sir” Forcing a small smile as you do your best to focus on him, and not whatever conversation is going on inside the office right now.

“How many times have I told you Rossi, or Dave is fine? '' He smile’s down at you, hating to see the bags underneath your eyes, or the fresh scratch mask around your wrist. You wear long sleeves half the time, but that doesn’t stop the team from seeing the way your scratch at your arms when you get overwhelmed. 

“Right sorry” Pushing a small chuckle out, as you give him a weak smile. “My bad”

“It's okay, are you doing alright?” Rossi looks down at you worriedly, you weren’t the most talkative but right now you don’t even seem to know how to be your regular self.

“Fine si– Rossi” Your body tenses at the slip up, your eyes flicker back up to Aaron's office.

“Alright, if you ever need to talk kiddo you know I'm around” He smiles at you, one that's full of concern. A part of him wants to reach out, place a hand on your shoulder so you get the message, but he knows it won’t work with you. You don’t react well to physical touch, you jump when someone gets too close. The team remembers the first time Garica tried to give you a hug, you jumped back, hiding behind Morgan who was closest to you in that moment. She touched your shoulders, and you have never moved so fast, your body tensing your hands rolling into fist. You apologised as soon as you calmed down, you gave them no reasoning as to why. But they understood and no one has tried to touch you since, they even became your human shields when random people would try to hug you as a thank you. You were extremely grateful for that, it's been like that for three years now and still no one asks you why and you owe them so much for that.

~~~

Hotch finally emerges from his office after another hour, a sour look plastered across his face, and when you catch his eyes you know why. They found the body. 

“We got a case” Hotch calls out to his team, everyone's head shoots up to him. A deep unnerving tension seems to fill the room due to the seriousness on his face, and the way his eyes never leave yours. The air seems to leave your lungs as you stand up, grabbing your notebook off your desk before following the team into the conference room. Hotch waits by the door as the team walks in, placing his hand up in front of you to stop you. 

“One moment” His voice is low as he speaks, not wishing for the team to overhear.

“We found two bodies, one of them is Jason Ducan” Aaron speaks softly, as he watches your face flicker with recognition at that name. 

“They found a body” You stare up at him, your eyes now empty of emotions, putting them on the backboard as you prepare for this case.

“Jason Ducan, he was my first missing kid when I worked here” Your breathing hitches as fear flashes through your mind, doing your best to keep your poker face on. Do they know where you work, have they been keeping tabs on you for the last three years? Or maybe they never stop keeping tabs on you. 

“He doesn’t fit the profile, he was seven, from a good family. He was too young there is no way they would take someone from a family like that, it would be too difficult” Your mind spins as you speak, your words speeding up, slipping over each other in a hurry. Hotch hates the far away look that creeps into your eyes, almost more than he hates the numbness that dominates inside you. Taking a deep breath, hoping he doesn’t make it worse, Aaron slowly reaches out to you, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. You flinch sharply, your eyes narrowing on his hand, on his familiar touch. Aaron is the only one allowed to touch you, and only at certain times, only when you're ready for it, and normally you welcome his touch. Today is not the day you welcome it, his touch feels like fire, it sends painful memories of your past through your mind. 

“Don’t” Your voice is low and full of danger, a shaky breath follows as he doesnt let go immediately. 

“You need to tell me if this case gets too much, okay” Aaron words hold no judgement as he lets you go and just like he expected you stroll straight past him, anger radiating off you, as you fall into the chair beside Morgan.

~~~

Hotch starts the briefing, grabbing the team's attention with your homemade files. He informs them of everything you had told him that morning, minus your theories. 

“So you made these files?” It was Morgan who asked the question. The one thing that had confused the whole team, because this screamed to them as an off the books case, something Hotch would never do. 

“No I did” You speak up, leaning forward. You almost feel bored as Hotch gives the team the basic information, information you have been sitting on for many years. Everyone's heads turn straight to you, curiosity and surprised looks all over them. The quiet one who normally seems to keep to themself, is investigating a crime alone, and somehow convince Hotch to make it a real case. Oh you could feel the questions and doubt spreading throughout the room, and all you do is smirk at them as you lean forward.

“I didn’t think much of it at first, but something didn’t feel right so once I saw a second body drop in the same way. I started investigating a bit more, but I was always weeks behind, so in my time of hoping for new leads I went back and searched months back trying to find anything” You give them a brief explanation, making sure you don’t make eye contact with anyone, not needing to lose your nerve right now. The room stays quiet, giving you the confidence to keep talking, so taking a deep calming breath you continue. 

“After I got an alert last night of a kid going missing, I knew it was them. Conor Blue, he fits the description that the unsubs go after. He’s between the age of Nine and fourteen, he came from an abusive household and he’s into sports which isn’t always a go to, but something I see they prefer” You speak slower than this morning, remembering to breathe as you do. Hotch might be hard to convince, but making sure the whole team has your back on this case, is something you didn’t think through. You needed their help, because without the team, you can’t get close enough to get rid of them for good.

“How long have you been looking into this?” Emily asks, looking over at you with concern. She can see ghosts in your eyes, and whatever answer you give her, she’s not going to believe you. 

“About four months” Your lie is solided, you know that, you made sure all the files you gave them only look that old. Even if they have older information inside you can say it's from research. 

“He came to me this morning, and I have been on the phone with a few detectives” Aaron glances at you as he says that, your stomach drops. He knows you used your FBI statues to gather information you weren’t supposed to have, opps. “And It seems to be happening all over the country, so we need to make a fast move on this case, two new bodies were discovered this morning” Hotch continues, the team watches you instead of Hotch. They all notice the tense look on your face, the way your eyes darken, your lips tightening as a way to stop yourself from interrupting the boss. Photos pop up on the screen as Hotch keeps speaking, your eyes land on the photos, your stomach twisting. Jason laid in the dirt, his body covered in bruises and blood, a hopeless look in his eyes. But what makes your mind ache is the body laying beside the ten year old boy. A 20 year old guy. He looks strong, someone who you know could only live that long in that place, if they were extremely strong and brave. The marks around his neck send a shiver down your body, your stomach swooshes so much you think you're going to be ill. He’s the only one that ages with that mark, and there is only one guy who would do that. He’s still there, and that's all your fault.

~~~

“So (Y/n), any theories?” Rossi the one to ask you, his eyes on the notebook that you're clutching tightly.

“Quite a few” You glance up at Hotch, silently asking for permission to take over, he gives a quick nod and with that it's your turn. “It's a team, I want to say at least two older ones that have been doing this for many, many years, and if anyone has lasted long enough they would train them to join them, using them to find more opposition. They need a good routine of fighters, more opportunity for them to grow” You speak in a matter of fact, your fingers tapping away at the table.

“What makes you think they are fighting each other?” JJ glances at you from the photos.

“Easy, look at them, there is only one way someone can get that many bruises and cuts on them. Also not to mention the autopsy results mention multiple broken bones that have healed, internal bleeding due to multiple blunt force trauma”  Your not sure why but air soon becomes harder to inhale, it feels thick and the room starts heating up. Everyones eyes are on you, but you can’t look at them so you're focusing on the files in front of you instead. “Also look at their hands, they aren’t just defensive wounds, they fit back, also they are strong, it's like they train them. Plus they are well nourished so I guess someone is looking after them, my guess is a women is one of our unsubs” 

“That’s one hell of a theory” Morgan says, his eyes burning into you. His gut is full of distrust when it comes to you with this case, something doesn't seem right.

“I know, but have a look and you will see why I’m right, also this case is nothing like we are use to, I have many theories and most of them are strange but, you can see why” You speak from gritting teeth, your hand now gripping the table in front of you. 

“We are going to Nebraska, wheels up in thirty” Aaron eyes stay on you as you zoom out of the room, dying for some fresh air. 

~~~

“Jupiter wake up” Her viciouses voice fills your ears, as a piercing pain invades your side. A sharp hiss slips through your lips as your eyes shoot open, your body shooting up into a sitting position, pushing the thin blanket to the side. Inside you feel numb, nothing inside you is alive anymore, years of training has made you the perfect soldier. 

“Morning Ma’am” Your voice is emotionless, your eyes are dead as you stand up looking up at her. Keeping your hands behind you, your head slightly bent. 

“We have a new comer, you are to welcome them this morning, I don’t care if they live or die just clean up your mess” Her voice is assertive, a cunning look on her face as she leads you down the hall and past the other trainee soldiers. Some of them are still asleep, most of them without blankets, only winners get comfort items. You stroll past the training room where your fellow soldiers are lifting weights before being allowed to eat. You glance at them a part of you wishing you could join them, but that's not your task this morning. Instead you get to fight, and you get to choose the outcome, oh you do enjoy these fights. You always win, and even better, it doesn’t take much effort. Ma’am leads you to the empty swimming pool, where most fights to the death take place. As you walk over to the edge you spot your opponent, he looks small and extremely frightened, barely a challenge. He’s already got blood over his face as he hides on the corner of the pool, the area where the bloodstains seem to be less. A small chuckle leaves you as you check him out, the thoughts of destroying him winding you up. Licking your lips softly before glancing over at Ma’am waiting for permission to go down.

“Go on, but try and make it fair” She laughs softly, enjoying the murderous gaze in your eyes. In a matter of seconds you're jumping into the pool, smirking darkly as you make your way over to him. The boy looks to be about 14 or 15, a couple years or so younger than you. He looks up at you, a confused and scared look plastered over his face, it grows when you stop a few metres back from him. 

“Y you… you're alive” His whisper is barely audible, but it makes you freeze. That voice, you know that voice, how? 

“Come here, now” You growl at him, gritting your teeth as you stare into his eyes.

“I thought you died (Y/n)” He takes a small step forward staring at you with hope. Oh how wrong that looks for a place like this. 

“That's not my name” You spit at him, a horrible shiver dripping down your spine. 

“Yes it is” He speaks more confidently as he steps closer. “Your name is (Y/n), we used to be friends” That name, why do you know that name, it's wrong, it's so wrong. 

“I don’t know you” You sneer at him, taking a step towards him, dangour radiating off you.

“Yes you do, we used to be best friends, (Y/n) please you have to remember me, its Ryan” He begs you to remember. You freeze, Ryan. You know a Ryan, but he’s younger than him, Ryan was ten last time you saw him. But this can’t be him, because that part of your life is long gone, and who the hell does this guy think he is turning up claiming to be a part of that time. You react quickly with a sharp growl escaping you as you launch yourself on him.

“I don’t know you!” You scream as you grab him by his neck, and punch him repeatedly with your other hand. You're a lot stronger than him, using all your strength to pound into him. You let go of his neck, he falls forward with a gasp, begging you to stop but it falls on deaf ears. You knee him in the stomach as he falls forward, grabbing his hair holding him in place as you let him have it. 

“I don't know you” You scream as your anger explodes. “I don’t know (Y/n)!” You shove him into the wall, his body slides down, so you kick him, as you scream repeatedly. “I don't know Ryan” You keep screaming, blood starts to pile around him, as you lose control. “I don’t know you!”

~~~

“I don’t know you!” A scream invades the quietness of the jet. Everyone's head turns towards the scream full of pain, landing on you. You're asleep at the back of the jet, shaking violently with tears streaming down your face. Aaron is up in a matter of seconds, running quickly towards you. The team stays quiet, letting Hotch take control of this situation. He drops to his knees beside you, small whimpers and cries leaves you as you stay dead asleep. 

“(Y/n), wake up” He places his hand firmly on your arm, giving you a rough shake. But nothing, you stay asleep but your cries get louder. 

(Y/n), open your eyes” Aaron shakes you again sharper and luck is on his side. Your eyes shoot open, breathing heavily as you scan your surroundings. The jet, you're on the jet, with your team. Oh shit your team, everyone is watching you, they stare at you with unreadable emotions on their faces, and you hate it. Soon you let your eyes drop down to the man beside you, fear enters you quickly, yanking away from his touch you straighten up quickly.

“Sir, I’m so sorry sir I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I am extremely sorry sir It won’t happen again” Your words fly out of you with fear, your breathing picking up, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you watch him, waiting for the punishment. 

“It's okay” Aaron gulps, hating the fear you're experiencing, the panic attack that’s consuming you. “You are okay, you are safe here” Aaron speaks calmly, taking the chance to place his hand on yours, he’s grateful you don’t pull back.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep” Your voice grows quiet, your lip quivering as the adrenaline dies down. 

“It's okay you're allowed to fall asleep” Aaron reassures you, his thumb running over the back of your hand smoothly.

“I am?” You look up at him hopeful, your eyes full of tears. You almost seem child-like as you ask that simple question.

“Yes you are, I only woke you because you were having a nightmare” Aaron smiles softly at you, hoping he doesn’t embarrass you as he informs you.

“Oh no” You yank away from his touch, panic filling you. You know you sleep talk occasionally, what the hell did you say?

“We all get them, its okay”

“No.. what did I say?” You stare at him with a look of horror. Aaron's face drops, he knows that look, he’s seen it almost everyday of this job. A look victims have when they open up to much of their past, scared their abusiver will come back for them.

“You didn’t say much” He tries his best to comfort you but he knows that determined look in your eyes. “You said ‘I don't know you’ ” 

A small sigh leaves you as you lean your head back in relief, that's all you said then you are fine, you can recover from that. “Thank you” You force a small smile, before raising your voice, turning to look at your coworkers who all seem to be pretending not to pay attention anymore.

“Sorry for disturbing you”

“You're not disturbing us” Hotch is quick to correct you, hating to think that you would think you're a bother. “If you want to talk about it–”

“No thank you, I’m fine” You interpret him quickly, a sharp glare and turning your back to him is all the dismissal he needs. 

~~~

You're in the SUV with Morgan and Rossi, heading downtown to the morgue. You sat in the back seat, reading through the Jason Ducan files, before sighing loudly and laying your head back. The two men in the front seat share some curious looks before glancing back at you.

“You alright back there” Morgan questions you, a small smile on his face.

“Not at all, this makes no sense at all” rubbing your forehead as the frustration causes another headache. “Why the hell did they take Jason Ducan three years ago he doesn’t fit the profile and they wouldn’t of dumped him like that he would of hide the body better, you would think they know not to show of the bodies we are investigating” You can’t hide the frustration and anger invading you, your hand squeezing into fist and you think back. He was a clue back then yet you were so focused on moving on you didn’t see it, this is bad. 

“Maybe your profile is wrong” Dave shrugs as he speaks, as if it's a casual thing.

“My profile is not wrong!” You snap at him, the anger burning away at your chest.

“I still don’t understand your interest in this case” Derek turns around to face you, a distrustful look in his eyes, one you can’t help but return.

“Well, no one was looking into it, someone has to care. I'm sorry if that irritates you Derek” Glaring deadly at him, as his eyes widen just slightly at your comeback before turning back to the front.

“I was just asking.'' He grumbles before glancing at Dave who is staring at you through the rearview mirror, watching as your face drops as you cross your arms. 

~~~

You are shown the bodies and as the doctor talks you can’t hear her, the words flying over your head as you grab some gloves and start touching the bodies. Three pairs of eyes on you, watching like a hawk as you move like lightning. Your hands travel around the older unnamed victim's neck. The dark unformed bruises with a slight cut you can tell were made with wire, your stomach spinning as you move away from it and down to his feet. 

“His neck wound was made by wire” You state as you kneel down by his feet, anger flooding through you as you see the scars. They are doing it again. “Holy shit” Your words are barely audible, but Morgan catches them, his eyebrow narrowing as he watches you.

“What did you find (Y/l)” Morgan makes his way over to you, spotting fear deep inside your eyes before you quickly mask the emotion once more.

“You need to ring Garcia” You look up at him, gulping thickly. “I think they are recording them” 

“What, how can you tell?” It's Rossi that asks as he walks over, joining you and Morgan at the feet of the victims. 

“Look at this” You show them the bottom of the left foot of the victim, where a big L is cut into along with the name victory which looks like it has been tried to be cut out. 

“Okay” Morgan looks at you puzzled. “How did you get that they recorded them from this?”

“The L, It means they lost, I bet they showed this to the camera to show them that they truly did lose this time” Maybe what you said doesn’t make sense to the profilers, but it's what they do. But they stopped, you know they stopped. You couldn’t find them on the dark web so they had to have stopped but you never relooked when the bodies started dropping again. 

“You can’t know that” Morgan goes to argue with you, a hand on his arm stops him. He turns his head to see Dave shaking his head at him. Morgan stares at him stumped wanting to argue but he can read that look in Dave’s eyes, there is something more going on here. 

“It makes sense, they can earn money this way and also they are sick twisted little fuckers who can find other twisted fuckers to enjoy in on their torment as well” You speak quickly as you pull your phone out, taking photos of his foot. 

“Okay I guess I’ll call Penelope then” Morgan sighs glancing at the dead set look on your face before walking out. You go to move onto Jason Ducan, touching his foot lightly before freezing. You stare at him for a few moments, your body frozen in place. He’s too young, his family loved him. How could they take him from them? It doesn't make sense.

“(Y/n), do you want me to do it?” Dave calls out to you kindly, breaking up your thoughts.

“No I got it” You reply letting out a small breath before pulling back his foot and taking a photo. A small W has been crossed out and replaced with a L, your heart crashing into your stomach as you see it. In a flash you're pulling away and making your way outside for some fresh air.

~~~

You lean against the SUV as you ring Reid, who is driving to see the other body that was discovered last night. 

“Hey (Y/l), You're on speaker phone” You can hear Reid smile through the phone.

“Hey guys, are you at the body yet?” You focus on slowly your racing heart beat as you speak to them, readying yourself to pass on the information.

“Not yet, we are still two and half hours out from the town” Emily response, glancing at the phone as she drives. 

“Okay that's fine, I just have a few things I need you to look at when you get there” Taking a breath as you think back to the cut on Jason's foot. “On his left foot I need you to see if there is anything cut into it, I am sending you a photo of the other two victims' feet okay” You quickly send them the photos.

“Okay I got it” Reid replies after a few moments.

“Oh that's gross” Emily groans.

“That's because you hate feet” Smirking just a little at her reaction.

“It's not my fault they are smelly and gross” She laughs just a little.

“Also you two should be driving through a small town called Cobar, it's a small town with a big population of homeless teenages It might pay to stop and talk to them, see if they have seen anything out of place lately” You take a sharp breath as a strange feeling starts filling you as you think about that place.

“Sure we can do that” Emily nods, her face tightening into a frown. “Hey, um are you okay?” 

“I'm good, why?” Your lips pull into a thin line as you line.

“Because this case seems to be weighing on you alot” She explains, tapping her finger on the steering wheel.

“Nope It's just another case, I gotta go” You quickly hang up before she can ask more questions. Reid and Prentiss share some strange and concerning looks as the phone beeps.

“What is he hiding?” Emily mumbles to herself as she stares out at the road.

~~~

The rest of the day goes by quickly, you three end up meeting up with JJ and Hotch back at the precinct. Rossi and Morgan go and talk with Jason Duncan's parents once they arrive trying to get more information from them. JJ works with other precincts where the other bodies and missing boys have been reported, trying to get all the information she can. You and Hotch work together trying to organise a timeline for the last 12 months, and with all the information you already have some parts are easy to fill in. Until he starts questioning you on the one part you can’t answer. 

“They shouldn’t be here, they should have gone east” Hotch sighs as you both stare at the map laid across the table. 

“I agree but they didn’t” You don’t agree with that, but according to the timeline it makes sense. 

“But do you agree?” Hotch looks up at you, doubt playing across his face. 

“What are you getting at Hotch?” Huffing little as you pick up your coffee, staring back at him.

“You said they would be coming this way, so why would you think that?” There’s his stern look eating at you. Making your stomach sink as you hide the truth from him. The truth is, you know their base is around here. This town is the first thing you remember when you escape but you can’t tell him that, no one can know. 

“I don't know” You lie, and it's a bad one.

“Don’t lie to me” 

“I'm not lying!” You don’t mean to snap at him, but fear and guilt were eating away at you and you can’t contain it anymore.

“Then tell me the truth” His words are sharp and to the point, but his face stays calm, his eyes soft and caring as he stares at you.

“Fine, I had a feeling like this town means something, because look at the pattern here Aaron” Your shoulders tenses up as you lean forward, pointing at the map. “Look, they always avoid this town, and they always avoided leaving bodies in this state until last night so since they did that I decided to take a risk and wait for them to leave us something around here and do you want to know what I’m thinking right now” A smirk slips onto your lips as you speak, a feeling of excitement spreads throughout you as you share your idea.

“You think their base is around here” Aaron finishes your thought, not liking that smirk on your face. 

“Exactly and if they left us this breadcrumb it only means two things, one they are somehow becoming sloppy or two—”

“They know you are investigating them” He finishes your sentence again, dread filling him due to just how close you are to this investigation.

“Not me, but someone yes and we can use that” 

“How?” 

Luckily Aaron's phone rings just before you have to answer that.

“It's Garcia” He glances at you before answering it, placing it on speaker. “Hey Garcia, what do you got?”

“Well boss man, I got good news and some gross news” Penelope's sweet voice floats through the phone. 

“What's the good news Garica?” You straighten up as you hope.

“Well our unnamed victim is Liam Clark, he’s 19 years old and went missing five years ago in florida” Garcia informs you both just as the door to the conference room opens and the rest of the team walks in. 

“Alright, can you send through his family information please” You sigh, leaning backwards in your chair, the stress of the case becoming too much. 

“Will do my love, now are we ready for some more information?” Her voice starts filling with dread as she types aways.

“Hit us with the good stuff baby girl” Morgan speaks up, coming to sit on the edge of the table by the phone.

“Oh I wish it was good news chocolate thunder, but (Y/n) was right.” She sighs as Aaron phones dings. “I found their profile on the dark web and all their live streams have been saved, there are hundreds of them, maybe even closer to a thousand, and they got back many, many years” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “I haven’t looked at them all yet but there are some that are over 25 years old” 

Your heart sinks, your palms becoming sweaty as realisation sits in. Your videos are still up, your team could find out in a matter of seconds what you are. 

“25 years…” Your voice is as quiet as a mouse, your throat tightening up as your team glances over at you. “How did no one see this?” Your voice gets louder, filling with anger as you jump to your feet. 

“They hide their tracks well” Reid speaks up, his eyes focused on you.

“Bullshit, no one can hide their tracks that well!”

“Okay you need to take a breath” Hotch gets up, walking closer to you. Watching the anger firing up inside your eyes.

“No, we need to find these monsters and make them pay, they have hurt and ruined so many innocent people's lives” You spit the words out, your hands squeezing into fist. 

“Is that all?” Morgan questions you, getting up, standing uncomfortably close to you.

“What's that meant to mean!?” Your body is already in defensive mode, locking itself down as Morgan has a determined look inside his own. 

“Well you seem to be hiding something from us and I would like to know what that is?” His questioning is dangerous, he steps closer to you. The rest of the room falls quiet, your eyes burning into his.

“How about, none of your damn business Morgan”

“It is my business when you drag us into it” He huffs back at you. “Just tell us what you're hiding” He steps closer, his breath lingering on your skin.

“Back the fuck up Derek” Your voice is lower, and full of danger. You can feel yourself about to snap and if you do, you don’t think you will be able to stop.

“We barely know you, so why don’t you just tell us what the hell is going on” Derek demands to know “What is wrong with you (Y/n)?” His hand raises up, and before you can process what is happening. Bam. Your fist collides with his mouth and you see red as he stumbles backwards. You follow him, a low growl leaves you as you punch him again, this time aiming for his eyes. He manages to block, trying to hold you back, but you don’t stop trying to get a blow on him. You can hear voices all around you but you can’t hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Soon there are arms wrapping around you from behind, pulling you away from Morgan. You struggle against them trying to break free as you stare daggering at Morgan who is being confronted by three people of your team, you don’t recognize them. Soon there is another person in your way, your body tenses as you see them. They quickly place their hands on your cheeks which make you freeze, the anger vanishing from inside you. Your vision starts easing up and faces start becoming recognizable. The person who is holding your face gently, has beautiful eyes, and a soft smile.

“Your safe (Y/n)” JJ speaks softly, “Just take some breaths” You stare at her, and soon start copying her breathing. Rossi lets you go, moving towards the rest of the team as you calm down.

“Let me go JJ” Your words are as cold as ice, the numb empty look in your eyes being replaced by guilt and anger. 

“Okay” She takes a breath before removing her hands and as soon as she does you bolt out the door.

~~~

You keep running once you get outside, you don’t stop, you can’t, you just can’t. Your mind is spinning and the only way you know how to get it to become quiet again, is to run. So that's what you do, you run. The sun is already set so you enjoy the darkness as you run. You can’t believe you lost it and punch Morgan, but what the hell is he getting at? Now what the hell are you meant to say, what lie are you meant to produce that will cover your ass. You're not sure how long you have been running for, but you're running out of breath when you see a corner store and think oh why not. Checking you have your wallet you head inside grabbing a bottle of water and a pack of cigarettes. Walking back out you open it, throwing the rubbish in the bin before lighting it and taking a long drag. Closing your eyes as you inhale it, it's been a long time since you last smoked and god does it just hit right tonight. Slowly you begin walking back to the precinct, enjoying the nicotine hit. You know you're about halfway to the precinct when you decide to check your phone after feeling it ring a few times. 

Missed phone calls: Aaron Hotchner (6)

Penelope Garcia (3)

You're not sure how many smokes you have consumed already but the pack is way lighter than it used to be. You really should ring them back instead of lighting another one, but oh well you think as you bring one more to your lips. Pulling out the lighter just as a car pulls up beside you, groaning softly as you recognize it. You keep walking, not caring to look at him as he rolls the window down. 

“Get in the car” Hotch yells at you, following you.

“Nope” You go to light the smoke instead when he stops the car and gets out. 

“We are an hour walk from the precinct, get the hell in” Aaron doesn’t bother to hide his anger, holding himself back from grabbing that cigarette from your hand.

“Or what?”

“Or you're fired, and I’ll leave you here” He huffs angrily, seeing you weighing up your options.

“Fine” You take a long drag on your smoke before stomping it out and climbing in.

~~~

The ride back is quiet, as you stare out the window.

“How angry is everyone?” Your voice is quiet and empty. Almost empty because Aaron can detect a small trail of sadness and fear in your words. 

“Morgan winded you up on purpose, he pushed you too far. That wasn’t okay what either of you two did” Hotch ignored your question, because he knew you wouldn’t accept that fact no one is angry. No, everyone is just worried and concerned about you, something you don’t know how to spot or accept when it comes to yourself. He wishes you could just trust the team, trust him enough to let them help. 

“I have a past” You pull yourself closer as you stare out the window, thinking about your next words carefully. 

“You don’t have to tell me” Aaron quickly tells you softly, needing you to know there is no rush.

“And if I do want to tell you?” You glance at him quickly, and for a moment you forget he is your boss and see him in the light of your friend. 

“Then I'm here to listen” He smiles lightly at you. You nod quickly looking back out the window, and then slowly you move your hand towards him, which he happily takes sliding his fingers between yours.

“I was abused growing up, no one cared and nobody knew, I never told anyone” You stare out the window, emotions settling down as you speak. “This case brings back memories I never wanted to relieve back up, I have to find these people so that we can save these kids” Your voice is sweet as you speak, this is a side no one but Aaron ever gets to see.

“And we will get them and we will get them help” Aaron smiles weakly as he pulls up. “But once this case is over we need to get you some help too, okay?” His thumb slides over your hand as you glance at him. If only he knew that nothing on earth can help you, and at the end of this case you don’t think you will still be on this team.

“Okay” You nod forcing a small smile before pulling away and making your way inside.

~~~

You walk in quietly, followed by Aaron. The team is staring up at the tv, watching some of the latest fights. You freeze as you catch a glance of his face on the screen. You knew he was still there but the look in his eyes is killing you. He's gone, replaced by a murderous robot, his skills are fast and sharp. 

“Ryan” His name slips off your tongue before you can stop it, your body tenses up as you stare at the screen and the way he gets his opponent down in one quick move. Emily pauses it as everyone's head turns to you once more. This time everyone looks at you with concern as they see the tears forming in your eyes, which you quickly push away once you let everyone get a good look.

“You know him?” Reid asks you, tilting his head as he asks you. 

“Um y yeah..” You take a deep breath. “I went to school with him” It's a lie, but you know it's golden. “He went missing when he was around 15 years old, we were best friends then one day he didn't turn up to school and well” You take  a deep breath as Aaron leads you to a chair, your arms shaking just a little. “He was officially determined missing a week later, his parents were absent, they didn’t care for him” That wasn’t a lie, he told you about his parents and how much they hurt him and how they were barely at home. 

“Oh (Y/n)” JJ places her hand softly on the table beside your hand, not touching but showing you she is here for you. You give her a soft smile in response. 

“If he’s been there this whole time it's been twelve years” Twelve years, he is never going to be the same.

“Jesus christ” Morgan groans with regret as he looks at you. “That's what you were hiding?”

“I had a feeling he was there.. I was just hoping I was wrong” Your voice is weak and tiredness is starting to take over. It's been almost 48 hours since you last slept.

“Now we got a lead, tomorrow we get Garcia to look into him but let's call it a night it's late we all need sleep” Hotch states, everyone nodding in agreement including you as you stare at Ryan's face on the screen. That's all your fault.

[readychilledwine]

Death of Peace of Mind - pt 2

Summary - We all believe Eris has a cabin in the woods where he hides his mate, but what if she wasn't there willingly?

Warnings - smut, a plot twist, degradation, pain kink, oral, forced mating ceremony, Stockholm syndrome, slightly dubcon in nature

A/N - um yeah? I think I know where I want the next part to go, but let me know your input?

Part One

She woke up to Eris's hands roaming every curve of her body. She didn't fight it, snuggling into him as he chuckled. She accepted his touch, his warmth, with no questions asked.

He had saved her. He protected her. He brought her back to this warm, sheltered place despite her ungrateful behaviors. "Good morning," she shivered at his sleep heavy voice. "How did my mate sleep?"

She snuggled further into him, pressing every inch of herself into his warm body. "Good," she whispered into his chest. "How did my mate sleep?" She felt the bond tighten at her acknowledgement, it seemed to almost dance between the two of them strumming and vibrating as if she had just fulfilled it's every selfish need.

Eris kissed the top of her head, smirking to himself at the fall of her defenses. "I sleep very well when my little mate is here to keep me warm," he lifted himself, placing gentle kisses along her neck. She released a breathy sigh, arching into him further and smiling as she let the bond force her to melt in his hands. He rolled over so he was on top of her, slowly lifting her silk nightgown from her body to see how far she'd allow him to take this.

To see how effective his little trick had been.

She allowed him to remove the gown, resting back into the pillows and running her nails along the muscled curves of his back with a soft sigh. 

Many things could be said about Eris. To the outside world, he was manipulative, cruel, cold, and calculating. In this cabin, though, she was learning he was so much more. He was protective, kind, and a generous lover inside and outside of the bedroom.

What other male would have taken her from her home for her protection? What other male would have offered her this haven in exchange for just accepting the bond she was meant to from birth?

She gasped loudly, fingers lacing into those ginger locks as Eris sucked her nipple, rolling it under his tongue and nipping gently. His other hand played with her other breast, fingers ghosted the sensitive peak. He switched his attention, giving her left nipple the same treatment he had her right before continuing his pathway down her stomach. 

He paused, lifting himself slightly when he reached her dripping core. "You are being such a good girl this morning," she felt her walls twitch at the praise and in anticipation. "Do you deserve a reward, little fox?"

She didn't answer, sitting and waiting for him to decide what to do with her and what he wanted. "Good girl," he purred before lowering himself to begin. 

He started slow. Long licks through her soft folds, teasing her clit with barely there touches. Her hands still shot to his hair, threading into the soft locks and gently pulling, spurring him on further. 

He picked up his ministrations, alternating between sucking her clit and pushing his tongue as deep into her walls as he could. She was quickly becoming a mess below him, her pretty lips parted as she moaned and cried his name, her cunt dripping constantly, her walls twitching.

His mouth felt like fire on her body, stimulating her in ways that had her walls twitching with the need to be filled. The bond was screaming in her chest, begging and pleading for more of him, more of the pleasure he was giving her. It had been begging for fulfillment since he brought her home, since he bathed her while she cried, since he held her tight in the bed, warming the sheets until she fell into a deep slumber from warmth and soft drumming of his heartbeat. She was his. And she was ashamed it took her this long to realize it.

Eris came home to the scent of fresh made bread, his hounds all fed and groomed, and the house spotless. His nose picked up on the scent of a familiar stew as well, but he waited to identify it, not wanting to get his hopes up that she was truly doing this. 

But there she was, hair pulled back and in nothing more than a satin robe he had brought home for her from Hewn City. She had the table set already, two bowls ready, two glasses next to each bowl, a decanter filled with Winter Court Red gracing the table. Eris approached her from behind, looking at the soup and smiling into her hair. "Rabbit stew?"

"Per tradition," she stated softly. "And a garlic and herb bread." Eris hummed, biting her neck. "Did you want to change? It is ready." He left her, allowing her to serve the stew and wine. She waited for him at the table, sitting in her seat and fiddling with her hair. 

He returned seconds later, shirtless and in sweatpants, taking his spot at the table and smiling. "You look beautiful." 

"Thank you," she smiled softly. "You should eat." 

Eris ate slowly, savoring knowing he had won. That with each bite he was sealing their destiny and fate. He knew it was cruel, but Amarantha and his father had changed his perspective on what was okay, and what a male should do to protect his mate. 

He watched her when they were finished as she cleaned the mess. A deep heat setting into his stomach. He snapped a few moments later, no longer able to wait a single second longer. 

He pulled her by her long dark hair, forcing her to walk over to the cleared table and bending her over it. Deep blue eyes peeked toward him from over her shoulder as he ripped the robe off of her, exposing a scarred back and smooth tan skin. He ran a single hand down her spine, watching as she shivered, before removing his own pants and wrapping a hand around his aching cock. 

He entered her without warning, knowing she was already wet for him, knowing she enjoyed the pain mixed with pleasure. He wasn't kind to her, having waited hundreds of years for this, having respected her much needed healing journey when he found her adopted by a poor family in Autumn with no memory of who she was, where she came from, nor her name. 

He pulled her apart, fast and hard, relishing in her screaming his name, in her lost babbling, in her pleas for more. 

"Eris please," she cried out. "Gods please."

He smirked above her, memorizing the spot he was hitting that had her walls tightening around him, slickness increasing, and goosebumps erupting on her skin. "What dove? What do you need?" He knew damn well what she need, watching her wiggle and drool after mere minutes of his brutal pace inside of her and the overwhelming stimulation he was causing with each drag of his heavy cock on her walls. "Words, princess." He demanded, growling at her and groaning at her submissive whimpering and the way she bared her neck to him.

"Can I cum?"

He laughed darkly. "Already? Pathetic. What a pathetic little whore." She whimpered again pleading with those almost purple star flecked eyes. "Cum, Seren."

The sound of her name shattered a spell Eris knew was placed many years ago, he watched as she came, struggling as the magic left her mind and frenzy almost instantly seemed to cool, but now familiar wanted, and needed pleasure took over her mind. He released inside of her before pulling out to turn her and comfort her. 

"Where-"

"Autumn. You've been here for over 200 years."

"Rhys-"

"Is safe is the Night Court." Eris pulled her close.

"Tamlin-"

"Alive. Unfortunately."

Seren looked at him, "Why are we in the cabin?" She had not been here since her and Eris took their honeymoon after the celebration of their marriage and mateship. Beron had all but demanded her presence in the Forest House, enjoying his new sparling trophy and alliance tool. "Eris, what happened? Where are my wings?"

She flinched as his amber eyes met her scared ones in pity. "What do you remember?" He held her face softly. "And what do you want to know? Everything?"

Seren was the vision of silent rage when he was done. The world thought she was dead due to a well placed glamor and memory charm from Tamlin. 

Her mother and father were both dead at the hands of the Spring Court. Her brother was High Lord. And married. And a father. 

Her mate had been held captive for 50 years, tortured under a formerly sacred place by Amarantha of all fucking fae.

And to top it all off, her wings were gone. Her precious, beautiful wings. Eris sat in silence before her, allowing her to process everything. "So you dragged me here, forced me to stay against my will, and-"

"I am not proud of what I did, dove. But I did it for your protection."

She huffed loudly. "Sending a Naga after me when I thought I was defenseless does not scream "love", my fire." 

He nodded, taking her criticism. "I had to ensure you didn't leave. All of my research pointed this being the only way to break whatever the fuck Tamlin did." She nodded. "I wasn't honestly sure it would work with us having already confirmed the bond."

"Why did they call me Sera?"

"The family who took you in?" She nodded to the question. "You told them it was your name. They thought you were named to honor my mother, not that you were possibly begging to be taken to her."

Seren nodded. Processing everything slowly before asking the question she knew would hurt the most.  "Does Rhysand know?"

Eris shook his head. "I found you again after we were freed from Amarantha's claws. When you didn't remember who you were still, nor that we were already married and had a mating ceremony, I kept you being here a secret for your protection, and selfishly mine. Father has gotten worse after seeing how Hybern tortured fae and humans."

Seren moved to sit next to him. "I always thought it felt familiar when you'd kiss me. Like I had been doing it all my life." Eris smiled, welcoming her body next to his gratefully, and leaning back to allow her to relax. "Toast still hates me," she inclined her head towards the smoke hound that glared at her nightly. 

"Well, you took her spot on the bed so that's to be expected." Eris shrugged casually. "Do you want to start with appearing in front of Rhysand first?"

Seren nodded. "If you two have an alliance, he will want and need to know. Blind siding him with my….. Unforeseen survival after you benefit from his presence will be seen as an insult."

Eris kissed her neck, already calling for Rhysand in his mind. "I missed you, dove."

"I missed you too, my fire." She kissed him deeply, crawling into his lab and grinding herself against him. "Now fuck me properly."

[agentrouka-blog]

Do you think that the Dance is also meant to be a foreshadowing for the books like D vs fA or Jon? Because I feel like with how the story is centered to the Starks, whoever gains their support (obv Jon if he joins 😂) will win and we get to have a second hour of the wolf

Let's put it this way: The main novel series is the point, and the Dance of Dragons is a result of its existence, it is fictional historical backstory that is meant to inform, illustrate and foreshadow the events of the main series.

The first book of the main novel series was published in 1996. It already contained references to the Dance of the Dragons, and they reappear sprinkled through the series, increasing in detail and relevance.

What is interesting is that the thing most emphasized about the Dance in the main series is the intra-family strife. Brother v. sister - and transcribed into the kingsguard: brother against brother, metaphorical and literal.

Bran was going to be a knight himself someday, one of the Kingsguard. [...] Bran knew all the stories. [...] The twins Ser Erryk and Ser Arryk, who had died on one another's swords hundreds of years ago, when brother fought sister in the war the singers called the Dance of the Dragons. (AGOT, Bran II)

It's a popular, high-culture piece of music that plays on the multiple perspectives of the historical event.

Later, while Sansa was off listening to a troupe of singers perform the complex round of interwoven ballads called the "Dance of the Dragons," Ned inspected the bruise himself. (AGOT, Eddard VII)

A Clash of Kings (1998) contains no reference, though you could consider the entire developing civil war to be an answer to that first reference.

A Storm of Swords (2000) picks it up again in much greater detail.

Stannis - notably having killed his brother over the throne - emphasizes the aspect of treason while discussing the fate of his wife's uncle Alester Florent.

"It has always been so. I am not . . . I am not a cruel man, Ser Davos. You know me. Have known me long. This is not my decree. It has always been so, since Aegon's day and before. Daemon Blackfyre, the brothers Toyne, the Vulture King, Grand Maester Hareth . . . traitors have always paid with their lives . . . even Rhaenyra Targaryen. She was daughter to one king and mother to two more, yet she died a traitor's death for trying to usurp her brother's crown. It is law. Law, Davos. Not cruelty." (ASOS, Davos IV)

The song makes another appearance at Joffrey's wedding, once again emphasizing that it is a complex story from multiple perspectives. Also setting up the inter-Lannister collapse that has been brewing for a while and explodes with Joffrey's murder.

Collio began with his version of "The Dance of the Dragons," which was more properly a song for two singers, male and female.  (ASOS, Tyrion VIII)

Jaime brings it back around to the kingsguard pseudo-brotherhood, which mirrors the inter-family aspect of the civil war.

The old and the new. Jaime wondered if that meant anything. There had been times during its history where the Kingsguard had been divided against itself, most notably and bitterly during the Dance of the Dragons. Was that something he needed to fear as well? (ASOS, Jaime VIII)

Given the mess that is made of the kingsguard in the coming book in KL and in Dorne... yes, Jaime.

By AFFC (2005) GRRM firmly establishes the Dance as a historical reference for destructive civil war over feuding siblings.

And the songs he chose . . . He sang of the Dance of the Dragons, of fair Jonquil and her fool, of Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies. He sang of betrayals, and murders most foul, of hanged men and bloody vengeance. He sang of grief and sadness. (AFFC, Sansa I)

It also turns the focus on Criston Cole as an alleged external engineer of such strife. Interestingly, his arms resemble a ladybug, Targaryen colors but not Targaryen.

"Most deserve to be forgotten. The heroes will always be remembered. The best." "The best and the worst." So one of us is like to live in song. "And a few who were a bit of both. Like him." He tapped the page he had been reading. "Who?" Ser Loras craned his head around to see. "Ten black pellets on a scarlet field. I do not know those arms." "They belonged to Criston Cole, who served the first Viserys and the second Aegon." Jaime closed the White Book. "They called him Kingmaker." (AFFC, Jaime II)

Contrasting to Stannis, Arianne uses the Dance as an example of treason from the other side, trying to manipulate kingsguard Arys Oakheart into supporting her coup against her father and brother, even though by Dornish custom her role would more rightly resemble that of Aegon II because she is the legal heir and believes her father to favor second-born Quentyn. Notably, Criston Cole is blamed over all Targaryen's involved. Ridiculous but probably significant.

Ser Criston Cole. Criston the Kingmaker had set brother against sister and divided the Kingsguard against itself, bringing on the terrible war the singers named the Dance of the Dragons. Some claimed he acted from ambition, for Prince Aegon was more tractable than his willful older sister. Others allowed him nobler motives, and argued that he was defending ancient Andal custom. A few whispered that Ser Criston had been Princess Rhaenyra's lover before he took the white and wanted vengeance on the woman who had spurned him. "The Kingmaker wrought grave harm," Ser Arys said, "and gravely did he pay for it, but . . ." (AFFC, The Soiled Knight)

Quite fittingly, Arianne's own little "dance" ends with horror and death and deep regret on her side, while poor Quentyn is busy on the other side of the planet.

Meanwhile, GRRM keeps the subject current in ADWD (2011) after Tyrion joins the entourage of "Young Griff", mixing in a reminder of different perspective on historical events. And some dragonslaying. Clearly, he has compiled a lot of detailed backstory for this civil war by now.

Haldon was unimpressed. "Even Duck knows that tale. Can you tell me the name of the knight who tried the same ploy with Vhagar during the Dance of the Dragons?" Tyrion grinned. "Ser Byron Swann. He was roasted for his trouble … only the dragon was Syrax, not Vhagar." "I fear that you're mistaken. In The Dance of the Dragons, A True Telling, Maester Munkun writes—" "—that it was Vhagar. Grand Maester Munkun errs. Ser Byron's squire saw his master die, and wrote his daughter of the manner of it. His account says it was Syrax, Rhaenyra's she-dragon, which makes more sense than Munken's version. Swann was the son of a marcher lord, and Storm's End was for Aegon. Vhagar was ridden by Prince Aemond, Aegon's brother. Why should Swann want to slay her?" (ADWD, Tyrion III)

Dragonslaying comes up again in the context of Hazzea and the effects of dragons in general.

If I look back, I am doomed, Dany told herself … but how could she not look back? I should have seen it coming. Was I so blind, or did I close my eyes willfully, so I would not have to see the price of power? Viserys had told her all the tales when she was little. He loved to talk of dragons. She knew how Harrenhal had fallen. She knew about the Field of Fire and the Dance of the Dragons. One of her forebears, the third Aegon, had seen his own mother devoured by his uncle's dragon. And there were songs beyond count of villages and kingdoms that lived in dread of dragons till some brave dragonslayer rescued them. At Astapor the slaver's eyes had melted. On the road to Yunkai, when Daario tossed the heads of Sallor the Bald and Prendahl na Ghezn at her feet, her children made a feast of them. Dragons had no fear of men. And a dragon large enough to gorge on sheep could take a child just as easily. (ADWD, Daenerys II)

In a telling twist on the name that pulls it directly into the present and likely future, we look at burned Quentyn:

After the girl was gone, the old knight peeled back the coverlet for one last look at Quentyn Martell's face, or what remained of it. So much of the prince's flesh had sloughed away that he could see the skull beneath. His eyes were pools of pus. He should have stayed in Dorne. He should have stayed a frog. Not all men are meant to dance with dragons. (ADWD, The Queen's Hand)

Which echoes again with Arianne in her TWOW sample chapters (2010-ish), which (interestingly) also flesh out her relationship with Daemon Sand, an intentional reference to a prominent character in the dance linked to Rhaenyra.

"Once we know beyond a doubt whether these be friends or foes, my father will know what to do," the princess said. It was then that pasty, pudgy Teora raised her eyes from the creamcakes on her plate. "It is dragons." "Dragons?" said her mother. "Teora, don't be mad." "I'm not. They're coming." "How could you possibly know that?" her sister asked, with a note of scorn in her voice. "One of your little dreams?" Teora gave a tiny nod, chin trembling. "They were dancing. In my dream. And everywhere the dragons danced the people died."

Much like with Daenerys, this reference emphasizes the destructive effects of the dragon-based civil war.

Since Arianne's little stint as pseudo-Rhaenyra went nowhere, but the Dance references remain thick and strong, we can likely look at her upcoming connection to Aegon as the point of it all.

Incidentally, GRRM has already set up their future conflict:

Now, how do you suppose this queen will react when you turn up with your begging bowl in hand and say, 'Good morrow to you, Auntie. I am your nephew, Aegon, returned from the dead. I've been hiding on a poleboat all my life, but now I've washed the blue dye from my hair and I'd like a dragon, please … and oh, did I mention, my claim to the Iron Throne is stronger than your own?' " (ADWD, Tyrion VI)

This places Tyrion into the role of a Cole-figure, hilariously, having pushed Aegon into changing direction to claim the throne directly without Dany.

There's the strife between family members, kingsguards, factions, and manipulative third parties, all over a throne that really isn't worth it, told from multiple perspectives, bringing misery and destruction to the smallfolk.

All the extra material on the Dance of Dragons was published after ADWD, from A World of Ice and Fire (2014) to the novellas (2013-2024) to Fire and Blood (2018), with one small reference to the extinction of the dragons after the Dance in The Mystery Knight (2010). So all this backstory was compiled and built up in the service of of the main story GRRM is telling.

You rightfully bring up Jon, Daenerys and Aegon all together, but it's extremely unlikely that Jon Snow is going to be a driving factor in a Dance of Dragons 2.0 because he will only just find out that he has Targaryen ancestry, and in a way that puts him it in conflict with her Stark ancestry.

No, this war is going to be between two established family members who both have claims and means alongside the ambition to ascend the Iron Throne. Not quite brother v. sister but aunt v. nephew. Tragic, destructive, self-destructive. Much like what the Baratheon brothers have served us before. Only with dragons involved on Dany's side, while Aegon mixes it up by simultaneously representing the Dornish side of the story, through his mother Elia - which is a whole different kettle of fish.

Jon's presence in there is probably going to be a very interesting complicating factor that might go in many different directions, with mirrors to Robb's Will and Stannis' offer of legitimization (another theme in the Dance), to accusations of manipulation and ambition (Criston Cole). The role of the prophecy is also going to be explored in all its myopic self-destructive emptiness.

This won't be a copy of the first Dance, though.

If there is an Hour of the Wolf, it's going to preside not over scarred survivors, but over the ashes and corpses of King's Landing and the Targaryen legacy in Westeros.

[cressidagrey]

New Pursuits - Chapter 5: Hiking

Summary:

The shadows decide that Azriel needs a hobby.

5 times when said hobby-related shenanigans didn’t end so well…and the one time where it may end up better than Azriel could ever have imagined.

Warnings:

Rhys bashing, Death of a mythical Wolf, Skinning of the same, animal furs, Light injuries

(super pretty dividers thanks to @saradika)

To say that his next pursuit in search for a hobby went to absolute shit…well that was an understatement.

It started off well enough. 

Hiking, Master! The shadows suggested brightly. 

Hiking. He could do hiking. 

What was the worst thing that could happen?

Any specific place? He wondered. He fully expected them to suggest something outside Velairs…maybe somewhere near where Morrigan kept her country estate that she pretended none of them knew about. It was ridiculous. Of course, Azriel knew about that. 

The same way that he knew that Mor was never going to be interested in him and he had still yearned for her for fucking centuries even when he had known better. 

Sometimes he was just an absolute fool, was he not?

Why not Ramiel?

If he had been drinking, he would have spit it out. That was the last suggestion he had expected. Ramiel ? Had the shadows gone fucking insane? 

It’s beautiful there! And maybe this time we won’t need to kill stupid fucking idiots that think we don’t deserve to exist! 

So he gave in. Like an idiot. 

And the next time he had some free time… he went flying to Ramiel. 

You know I could just fly to the peak and be done, he told them drily. Why not. His wings weren’t bound. It wasn’t the fucking Blood Rite. 

He stood at the bottom of Ramiel, staring up at that fucking mountain that had nearly claimed his life once before. 

It was sacred. To Illyrians. To his people. Even when Azriel often didn’t claim them as his people. It was…even 5 centuries later, he still couldn’t manage to integrate both sides in his mind. 

There were the Camp Commanders who hated him for being a bastard, who treated the female worse than dirt, who hated everything different than them with a passion and would kill without thought. 

And then there were the Illyrians who only wanted to survive. There were good people between them. People like Rhys’ mother, like his mother, like the inhabitants of Rosehall…that had been treated so abhorrently and still, still trudged on and had made their own life with blood and sweat. That existed too. 

The babies that were born in warcamps never knew another way of life. He couldn’t fault them for what they did. Couldn’t…

He was Illyrian. From his temperament to his parents, the male that had supplied half for his creation…To the tips and claws of his wings and the marks on his chest and arms. To the status of Carynthian. 

Azriel was Illyrian. 

He couldn’t change that. He didn’t want to change that. 

But he would sometimes like to tear down the whole of all the warcamps with his bare hands…wanted to kill and slaughter every fucking male that had held down a female when she had her wings clipped…Wanted to protect all the children that would never learn another way of life than the cruel one. 

And still, there he was…at the bottom of Ramiel, craning his head up…because his shadows thought that he needed a hobby. And that hiking apparently was a hobby. 

That’s not the use behind hiking. You are supposed to clear your head, breathe in the scents…relax…become one with nature, the shadows told him seriously. 

He would have nearly done that…if nature hadn’t decided that he would make a perfect mid-afternoon snack. 

If all the other contestants in the Blood Rite weren’t out to kill each other…the wildlife took care of the rest. 

At least this time, Azriel had Truthteller…a single knife. That was more than he had had during the Blood Rite. 

And Truthteller always stroke true. 

Even against a Fenris. 

A Fenris, an Illyrian steppe wolf with fur the colour of pitch-black ink, long claws and razor-sharp teeth. 

Massive in size. 

He only died after his claws had destroyed Azriel’s jacket and scratched the hell out of him. 

It collapsed on top of him and Azriel cursed, climbing out from underneath that wolf, shaking out his wings and wincing when he could already feel the bruises blooming on his side. 

The Fenris’ blood was soaking the sacred ground of Ramiel, was soaking Azriel. 

He wanted to throw up. 

The feeling was visceral, shocking because he had a long time ago made his peace with that. Killing came naturally to him, like to seemingly every Illyrian. If it was a question about killing or be killed, Azriel was always going to chooose the first. His self-preservation instincts were very much intact. 

He also never had any problem with killing for food. He would only kill as much as he needed, when he needed and he did it so quickly, that the poor rabbits didn’t even have it in them to notice what was happening. 

This had been a kill for self-preservation. 

He had needed to make that kill. Otherwise, the Fenris would have killed him. 

But that wasn’t what was making him want to vomit. 

That was because of what he had just killed. 

The Fenris. 

There was a story there. 

Ancient as time. Probably the one “romantic” tale Illyrians had. If you could call killing another creature romantic. 

Azriel had never thought it to be. 

When Enalius, the greatest of Illyrian warriors had wanted to take a wife…he had killed a Fenris for her. The hide had been his wedding gift to his bride. 

In parts, the tradition still lived on.  Though it only very rarely was a Fenris hide these days. Too difficult to find. Too difficult to kill. 

And here Azriel was. With the dead body of that animal at his feet. 

Instincts took over as Azriel began to remove the hide…a bloody mess, with Truthteller soaking up the blood with its blade. 

He left the carcass for other animals to find, but he took the hide. 

He must have made quite the sight as he appeared in the nearest war camp, ignoring the screams and scattering of Illyrians, as he strode towards the tannery on the outskirts of the war camp. 

Azriel was quite sure that alone his sudden appearance, dripping with blood, was probably going to be enough to terrorise that particular war camp into behaving for the next few months... but oh well. One less headache for Cassian to deal with. 

He found that tannery with no problem, manned by some of the long-suffering Illyrian females.

The one thing he could give them was a couple of gold coins for their troubles as they took that massive black pelt to be tanned, staring at him with ill-concealed horror and…maybe something else, that he didn’t want to think too close at. 

They didn’t respect his job or that he worked for the High Lord but if he played *Who’s the better killer?* he was going to come out on top and they would respect that. 

Regardless of how much he hated it. 

I am done. No more hobbies outside, he told his shadows drily. I can’t even go on a hike without killing something. 

A few hours later, spent terrorising the camp lords with an unexpected inspection, later, he could pick up that massive black pelt…and go home to the House of Wind, get out of bloodsoaked leathers and take a shower…and probably survey the damage the Fenris had done to him. 

Namely blue and black bruised ribs and some sluggishly bleeding scratches…

He was cleaning up while sitting on the edge of the bathtub as the door was nearly ripped off his hinges. 

“Azriel!” 

“Ever heard of knocking?” he gave back with a sigh as Cassian entered the room. 

“Your bloody, ripped-apart leathers are all over your room,” his brother snapped, grasping his arm so that he could see the scratches himself. “What happened?” he demanded. 

“Don’t ask,” Azriel snorted. “Though I doubt that Carell or the entire Stonevale Camp is going to give you any troubles for the foreseeable future,” he muttered darkly.

“Is he still alive?” Cassian asked him. There was no judgement in his voice. Azriel knew that Cassian would trust him to have had a very good reason if he had killed him. 

“Not a hair on his head was harmed,” Azriel promised, reaching out for a towel with a grimace, before his shadows already grasped it and pressed it against the deepest wound on his shoulder. 

“That still doesn’t explain what happened to you,” Cassian said with a pointed look at the bruises blooming on his body. 

“I killed a Fenris,” Azriel answered truthfully. There was no reason to keep that a secret. Non whatsoever. 

Cassian was silent for a moment. 

“You killed a what ?” 

“Fenris,” Azriel repeated. “It decided that I would be a great afternoon snack.” 

“Did you go searching for it?” Cassian asked, his voice changing into something numb. Azriel just stared at him. 

“If you call searching for it, me climbing up Ramriel because apparently Hiking is a fun pastime that I should definitely try out...” he said, sarcasm bleeding from his voice. “No, Cassian, I did not go searching for it. Otherwise, I would have had more knives with me.”

Cassian stared at him for a moment. 

“Fuck.”

“Yes,” Azriel agreed. “Could you give me another towel please?” he requested and Cassian did just that, helping him to wrap it around himself as he carefully shuffled to put on new pants. He didn’t even bother with a top. He stretched his wings with a grimace, feeling them pull where he had gotten a few scratches on the thin membranes. 

“Here,” Cassian opened the bruise balm and Azriel let him smear it all over his side, hissing slightly. At least he didn’t need to do that to himself. That would suck even more. 

“Thanks,” he thanked his brother, who just shrugged. 

“You know…Rhys said you nearly bit off his head a few days ago,” Cassian said nearly conversationally.

He wanted to groan, but didn’t, instead limping from the bathing chamber to his room, where he threw a towel over the mess he had made off his floors. Cleaning that up was going to…

But then Cassian had already picked up his leathers and brought them back to the bathing chamber to at least get rid of the worst blood. 

“So let me guess, you are supposed to talk to me?” Azriel lifted his voice slightly as he sat down on the chair on his desk, staring at the hide. Now it was tanned, a process that went a little bit quicker if magic was involved. Massive, thick glossy black fur. He knew that if he wanted to sell it, he would get a small fortune for it. 

Not that he needed it. 

He had his own lines of credit. Rhys paid him very well for the job he did for him, and even if he decided that being a spymaster was no longer what he wanted to do…he wasn’t going to end up poor. 

The shadows took care of that . 

“Something like that,” Cassian agreed as he stepped out of the bathing chamber. “You’ll need to patch them,” he was informed, but Azriel just waved him off, as Cassian perched himself on the edge of his desk, staring at the fur that covered it. He reached out, looking at Azriel for permission. 

He just inclined his head. 

“I only asked Rhys to leave me alone,”  he gave back drily as Cassian touched the fur and examined it closely. 

It was pretty much perfect as far as Azriel could tell. 

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” Cassian asked him and Azriel just snorted. 

“Are you going to listen to me if I ask that of you?” he gave back with a sigh. 

“Probably not,” Cassian agreed. “So what’s going on? You know, other than you channelling bloody Enalius,” his brother teased him and something in Azriel loosened at that. 

He could have turned him away and said nothing but…he didn’t want to. 

Cassian could hear the truth…and besides it was on Rhys himself if Cassian got angry with him…and if he didn’t get angry, maybe at least then maybe Cassian would…understand. A little bit. 

“Don’t fly off the handle,” he warned Cassian, who sat up straighter. “Last Solstice, Rhys ordered me not to pursue Elain.” 

He hadn’t been sure what to expect. But the way Cassian’s face first went chalk white and then crimson with anger…that was not it. 

“He…” Cassian bit out but Azriel cut in before Cassian could do something ill thought out. Like flying straight to the River Estate and punching Rhys. 

“It’s fine ,” Azriel promised him. 

“How the fuck can you say that?!” Cassian snapped. “He…He ordered…He pulled rank on you and he…”

“It’s fine,” he repeated. “It’s over. She chose her mate. She chose Lucien. Elain is very happy. I would do nothing to put that in danger.” And he wouldn’t. “Maybe I am a fool but I don’t try to be an asshole, Cassian.” 

Cassian stared at him, broad hands still wrapped into the fur. “She chose Lucien because Rhys took you out of the equation,” Cassian said, his voice hoarse. “You don’t know if…”

“It doesn’t matter why she chose him,” Azriel cut him off. He didn’t want to hear that. He didn’t. “She chose him. And she doesn’t need to know about this.  Neither does Nesta. Or Feyre. Or Mor or Amren or anybody else,” he told Cassian pointedly. “It’s over. It’s fine. But I am really not in the mood to listen to Rhysand’s apologies .” 

“Az,“ Cassian said hoarsely. 

“It’s fine,”  he promised once again.

He was yanked into a tight hug by Cassian, broad arms enveloping him. 

“That wasn’t fair to you,” Cassian whispered. “It wasn’t fair.” Cassian’s wings trembled, like he didn’t know where to go with all of his anger and Azriel wondered if maybe he should have just stayed silent. 

“What are you going to do?” Cassian asked him as he let him go.  

“Nothing,”  Azriel answered honestly.  “I promised Rhys that I wasn’t going to kill Lucien. And in return, I requested that he was going to leave my private life alone.”

“Nothing?” Cassian repeated. 

He shrugged. 

“Maybe I’ll relieve our first century and fuck anything that has two legs and is willing,” he said, his voice quiet, staring at his hands for a moment. 

“Az,” Cassian said tightly. Azriel met his gaze. 

“I don’t have a mate, Cassian. I have no children.  It doesn’t matter to anybody but myself what I do,”  Azriel said pointedly. “If I want to…I can.” 

“Of course, you can,” Cassian agreed. “But we both know, that it won’t make you happy,” his brother pointed out. 

He was right. 

It would not. 

“Maybe it will,” Azriel disagreed with a shrug. “I never thought that I would enjoy wood carving or taking lavender salt baths either, but I do,” he said pointedly. 

“Lavender salt, really?” Cassian asked him with a snort.  

“How many hair products do you have?” Azriel shot back.  

Cassian startled. “I think you are thinking of the wrong brother,” he lobbed back quickly, before growing serious. “Why did Rhys do it?” he asked Azriel. 

“He had his political reasons,” Azriel said. “Didn’t want any more difficulties with Autumn or Day. Or a Blood Duel for that matter.” He could see it, even if he didn’t agree. 

Oh well. It didn’t matter now...not anymore. 

“I…If there is anything I can do…You tell me, alright?” Cassian asked, looking at him, so earnestly. Always so earnest. “Whatever it is…You’ll tell me.”

“I am fine, Cass. I promise,” Azriel insisted quietly. “Thank you though.” 

Cassian inclined his head and Azriel’s gaze went back to the fur on the table. “Do you want it?” he asked. 

“What?” 

“Do you want it? For Nesta?” he repeated. Nesta would like it. Probably. Maybe she would even like the story accompanying it. She could have it fashioned into some kind of outer garment or keep it draped over the bed…And if it came from Cassian, the pelt would be used for exactly what it was intended for. 

“It’s your kill, Az,” Cassian pointed out reasonably. “And we both know what it…represents.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “So, do you want it for your mate?” he asked again, Cassian still staring at him. “What else am I supposed to do with it, Cassian?” he said with a sigh. “Sell it? I would rather you have it.” 

It could just be a gift from one brother to another. 

“Keep it,” Cassian told him, his voice fierce. “You keep it.  One day you are going to need it. One day, you are going to have a cloak made out of that for your wife and the offcuts will be used for shoes for your son or daughter. And you will be happy that you hung onto it.”

It was a lovely sentiment. It was. 

But Azriel didn’t think he was ever going to have that so it didn’t matter. 

 “It’s your kill, Az. Yours. You keep it,”  Cassian repeated. “And maybe the next time you try another hobby…pick something less dangerous?” he suggested with a bright grin, going back to teasing him.

“Oh don’t worry, the shadows have a list.  We aren’t even halfway done,”  he said with a sigh. 

“What’s next on it?” Cassian wondered. 

“Knitting.”

“You know anybody that can teach you that?”

“Yes. My Ma.”

[wh0r3-for-klaus]

draco malfoy x sister whose dating theo and like draco is lowkey a bully to her and she takes the spell for one of them and dies and they reminisce

I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but I hope you like it! I tried to make it so they reminisced together and separately. Warnings: death, grief, Draco being remorseful for his d!ckhead past self, I think that's it? Let me know what you think in the comments. If you want to be added to my tag list, leave a comment. My works are not to be reposted.

Beneath the Malfoy Oaks.

~~~

Dinner in Malfoy manor was a formal affair, and the long dining table was set with silver and crystal. As y/n and Theo sat together, Draco joined them, his posture stiff and his eyes cold.

“Lovely to see you two making yourselves at home,” Draco said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Although, I must say, it’s rather amusing watching my best mate choose such unsavory company.”

Theo kept his voice calm. “We’re here to enjoy a meal, Draco. Can’t we have one evening without your disdain?”

Draco’s smile was tight. “Oh, but this is just the beginning. I’d hate for y/n to forget what it means to be a Malfoy."

~~~

Draco couldn’t stop remembering the last family dinner that he shared with y/n, he wished he would have been kinder to his twin, he had always been so cruel to her, but he didn’t even know why. Draco wished he could have told y/n how much he admired her, she never let her emotions control her actions and he needed her to keep him in check.

The large oak trees that stood in the middle of the Malfoy estate gardens had red and orange leaves, the air was getting a bit chillier, and the days were shorter, it was close to winter. The gardens, more precisely the oak trees, had always been y/n’s favorite place to escape to when the siblings were home from Hogwarts. She would most of the day just sat beneath the two oaks reading or just looking up at the sky, y/n had a habit of falling asleep in this spot too on occasion.

Draco looked down at the blanket hung over his arm, the once pristine purple and black quilt was now old and had started to rip, but y/n did love the quilt, and it showed how well loved the blanket was. The silvery-blonde male laid the quilt on the ground beneath the two oaks, in the middle of the large trees, in the same spot his siter always would and sat down on the worn blanket.

~~~

The Slytherin common room was unusually quiet for a Saturday evening, the usual murmur of students replaced by an uncomfortable silence as Draco Malfoy approached y/n and Theo Nott, who were sitting close together by the fireplace with their hands intertwined.

Draco’s gaze was icy as he swept into the room, his presence commanding attention and declared self-importance.

“Must be nice to have such a cozy little corner to yourself,” Draco sneered, his eyes flicking disdainfully over y/n. “Too bad it comes with the price of your dignity.”

Theo’s jaw tightened, but y/n stood, stepping between them. “Draco, what do you want this time? Don’t you have something better to do with your time?”

“Just making sure my best chaser isn’t being dragged down by anyone who isn’t up to our standards,” Draco said, his voice dripping with condescension and cruelty.

Once the Malfoy male had walked away, Theo turned to his beloved girlfriend and looked at her concern and sympathy. "I'm sorry, amor mio. It's not fair for him to treat this way without any reason, and even then you don't deserve his cruelty." Theo's arms wrapped around the Malfoy girl and he pulled her into a tight embrace, which the girl happily returned.

~~~

Theo thought back to that day in the common room, it was only four months ago but it felt like years, wondering if he had chosen to stand up for y/n if things would be different. If she would still be here, standing beside him with her nearly silver hair pulled back all pretty and her lips pulled up into a smile, her hand held in his as they looked at the rose bushes that were no longer blooming for the winter.

The once heavenly scented rosebushes that y/n always smelled nearly identical too, were now devoid of any flowers even though the thorns remain. Theo wondered if the roses died when she did, if the thorns remained as a reminder that even after the beauty is gone the danger still lurks. Flicking the ash of his cigarette onto the ground, Theo felt like there was a hole in his heart, where y/n had claimed the moment he met her.

~~~

The blonde-haired male sat beside someone he considered to be one of his best mates, someone who would have potentially been his brother-in-law a few years from now, Theodore Nott. The two men sat beneath the two Malfoy oak trees on the purple and black quilt, a box filled with parchment stained with ink sat in front of them, the box was one of the many things’ y/n had left covered in her favorite book quotes and little drawings.

 It was y/n’s safe keepings box that was kept under the floorboards in her closet, so she always knew where it was, and she could look back on memories that were import to her. Now it was filled with the little trinkets that the younger Malfoy twin had placed inside, and the many letters that she had given to her brother and her boyfriend over the last seven years.

Y/n had only been gone for four months, but if you asked Draco and Theo, they’d say it couldn’t have been such a short time ago, it felt like it had been four years. The months have seemed to just drag on and to the rest of the wizarding world, it seemed like the two men were either just going through the motions or numbing their grief with alcohol or other substances.

Theo reached forward and grabbed the first piece of parchment from the box, being careful not to cause any damage to the page. He smiled when he read the first few words that were written, turning his head towards Draco and handing it over. A quote from the play “Hélas, Je Me Suis Transfiguré les Pieds” was written at the top of the page, the rest of the piece of parchment was covered in drawings and spells with their use/purpose.

“Y/n really did like to read that play, didn’t she read it like eight times in like a month?” Draco asked with a hint of amusement, his lips were upturned in a slight smile as his fingers faintly ghosted over the handwritten quote that his sister had written. He knew that his younger twin had liked to write this line from her favorite play, he was never sure why, he was sure the girl didn’t even know herself, but he had found it annoying then.

“Yeah, she really did love to read, it didn’t really matter what she was reading as long as it wasn’t boring.” Theo said with a small chuckle while shaking his head, his brown eyes were focused on the next piece of parchment that he was lifting from the box.

~~~

The corridor of Hogwarts seemed to freeze in time, the echo of the battle outside muffled as if the world had narrowed to the space between them. Draco’s and Theo’s eyes were wide with terror, watching helplessly as the dark figure advanced, wand raised, a curse poised to strike. Their breath came in short, ragged gasps.

In the chaos, it was as if nothing else existed but the impending doom and Draco’s sister, y/n, rushing forward with a determination that seemed both fierce and fragile. Her face, usually calm and composed, was now a mask of resolute bravery and determination.

Y/n, her light hair tumbling in disarray, reached them just as the curse left the enemy’s wand. Her own wand flicked in a desperate counter-curse, but she was too late. The dark magic surged forward, relentless and unstoppable.

“Y/N, NO!” Their scream was a raw, desperate sound as Theo lunged forward, but she was faster, throwing herself in front of them.

The curse hit her with a sickening, sickly glow. For a moment, time seemed to slow, the world holding its breath. Y/n’s eyes widened in pain and shock, and then her body crumpled to the ground with a shattering finality.

Draco and Theo rushed to her side, Theo’s hands trembling as he cradled her limp form. Her eyes, still open, looked up at them with a serene acceptance. The light in them was fading, dimming like the last embers of a once-roaring fire quickly.

“Y/n, no, stay with me. Please,” Draco begged; his voice choked with tears. He shook her gently, desperately searching for a sign that she was still there, that she could hear him and would be okay.

Her lips moved slightly, forming words that were barely a whisper, but they were enough. “I... I’m sorry...”

Her breath grew shallow, and then it stopped altogether. The finality of her absence hit both men with an unbearable weight, leaving Draco and Theo alone in the shattered remnants of what was once in this world.

~~~~

The sun had set a long while ago and it had grown cold, but the two men still sat beneath the two oak trees in the Malfoy gardens on the purple and black quilt. The box of keepsakes had been gone through long ago, but now they just discussed different stories about y/n. They weren’t ready to say goodbye, the realization that they would never get to say anything to her face to face hadn’t fully sunk in, they didn’t want to accept that she was gone.

Draco and Theo thought back to that day in the corridors of Hogwarts, to the sound of battle and carnage that left many dead, injured, grieving, or traumatized, To the day that y/n had jumped in front of them to stop a curse from hitting them. Even though Draco had never been anything short of a bully she still saved him. Y/n sacrificed herself to save her boyfriend, the man that had confessed his love for her in the astronomy tower under the night sky in fourth year.

In that dark, sorrowful moment, Draco Malfoy and Theo Nott were left with nothing but the memory of y/n’s bravery, her final gift to them, and the unbearable silence of a future that would never be the same and the past that can never be rectified.

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