#but it's also not that simple since it is crafted by reader/beloved's hands

[twstgarden]

❀ ❝ 𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿'𝘀 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵 ❞

━ malleus draconia x gn! reader (reader can be yuu and/or your oc) ━ it was malleus' birthday and you planned to surprise him with a gift you've made with your own hands. (f/n means first name)

this work may contain spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

it was another hectic day for malleus. though he was not in the briar valley palace being overwhelmed with plans for his birthday, he was still busy in night raven college. lilia was in the room with him, smiling at the fae as he greeted, “happy birthday, malleus! come, the guests await.”

the diasomnia dormitory head followed his guardian’s request, trailing behind him as they both went to the lounge. the celebration was splendid, to say the least. he received gifts and was greeted by students he never personally interacted with before – though they were steps away from him while delivering their greetings.

the platinum outfit he wore for this year’s birthday theme made him stand out – quite so, as he is the birthday boy. the interview was something he enjoyed as well; having deuce as his interviewer made it even more pleasant.

 the celebration was nearing its end, and while he was grateful, he cannot help but feel as if something is missing. his eyes wandered around the lounge, looking for a certain person but to no avail. lilia, who stood beside him, intuitively knew who he was looking for, merely smiling, and not saying anything.

once the celebration ended, the rest of the guests returned to their respective rooms and dorms, leaving only lilia, silver, and sebek in the lounge with malleus, sorting through the gifts. while doing so, the young fae’s gaze landed on a green envelope, opening the letter as he did not recall who handed it to him.

‘to my dearest,

pleasant salutations, my love. today marks the day of your birth, and i am more than happy to wish you a happy birthday. thank you for the beautiful memories you have made with me, and i hope we can continue to make more memories together.

you might wonder about my whereabouts throughout the whole party. in all honesty, i was preparing your gift. once you have received this letter, it is time for you to take a moment to indulge in my present made for you and only you.

let us put you to a test. search for an item that fits the description i underlined. good luck!

amongst the thorny bushes, i remain bright and romantic.

forever yours, f/n l/n’

a smile ghosted over malleus’ lips, chuckling to himself as he was intrigued by your behaviour. you would go as far as putting him to a test and sending him out on a scavenger hunt, searching for objects with nothing but riddles as a clue.

“how amusing,” spoke malleus with that amused smile on his face, “quite creative, however.” lilia peeked at the letter before chuckling and gently patting his shoulder, “what are you waiting for? time is ticking!”

and with that, malleus went around the dormitory in search of something that stayed bright and romantic amongst the thorny bushes. he has gotten his first clue. thorny bushes must mean the location is in the garden of diasomnia, no? however, they do have flower bushes and whatnot, so what exactly is he supposed to find?

still, he went to the dormitory garden, eyeing all the colourful bushes before his eyes landed on the thorn bushes nearby. nothing seemed out of place, but as he stepped closer, a glowing red rose hid within the bush.

“ah, is this the item i’m supposed to find?” mumbled malleus as he quickly grabbed the rose, the thorns not pricking him as he used his magic to avoid damage. upon contact, the rose glowed even more before disappearing into thin air, and what came in replacement was a quick reveal of the words, ‘turn around.’

and so, he did. the young fae turned around with a puzzled expression before his eyes landed on you standing there with a smile. how did he not notice you? surely, he could have heard your footsteps, no? his puzzled expression morphed into a shocked one before he smiled at you, noticing your arms tucked behind you as if you were hiding something.

“and what are you hiding, dearest?” asked the male with a smug smile.

“oh, nothing~” you replied, “close your eyes.”

malleus raised a brow, eyeing you for a moment before complying with your request, closing his eyes without another word as he waited for your action. he heard a soft twinkle as you spoke, “okay, you can open them…”

once he opened his eyes, you stood with your arms out, a snow globe rested on your palm as the miniature scenery had two dragons that look identical, but one seemed to be a baby dragon holding an ice cream cone. his eyes widened as you held it out to him with a shy smile, “i made this for you…”

made?

“made?” asked malleus. you nodded as you avoided his gaze, thinking he might not like it as you mumbled a response, “yes, i don’t have much to offer, but i am skilled with arts and crafts…” you eyed the snow globe again, shaking it a little to make it snow with a soft twinkle.

malleus smiled softly as he watched you shake the globe before gently grabbing it from you, looking at it closely as he realised the dragon looks like him. “a personalised snow globe… thank you, f/n…”

“happy birthday, malleus,” you greeted with a smile, the same smile that he had always loved, the same smile that brightened his lonely days, the same smile that greets him every morning. his eyes stayed on you as he looked at you like a lovestruck puppy, wishing for this moment to never end.

an eternity with you and those he holds dear is all that he asks for.

© twstgarden 2023 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[flos-obsessivus]

What if the advisor reader was a veteran? Like a past knight or footsoldier but due to an injury (minor or major) they decided to continue their service but as an advisor?

Since young, he had been admiring you from the windows of the castle overlooking the training field. Leaned against the clear window, sighing dreamily at your sweaty body and defined muscles. Oh what he would do just to touch them. Even his old advisor nor his parents could pry him away from seeing your form overpowering your opponent, goodness, how strong you are! He wishes that it was him pinned underneath you, he would gladly let you dominate him. He would even compare you to the knight in shining armour that his books often talk about.

From time to time he would see you run around with your squad, but most of the time you are dedicated to your craft, he would often catch you at night still at the field repeatedly swinging a sword at a dummy until the moon is at it's peak. You are so devoted to being a knight that it was hard for him to catch your attention outside polite nods and a bow.

When the time comes that he is able to visit places outside the castle, it's no wonder that it's you that the general always chooses to accompany him everytime he comes to visit the town. Though, your sharpened skills isn't the only thing that convinced his parents, he also had to beg for them to choose you.

It's no secret that Lilian has many admirers, as the beloved crown prince of the Rosen kingdom, he is bound to encounter colourful personalities all across the kingdom. Of course, he is not safe from those who wants a piece of him to take back home.

That's where you step in, as the assigned knight of the prince, his knight in shining armour. You quickly grabbed the arm of the offending party, throwing him away from the both of you. However, he wasn't the only one targeting the prince. Another guy appeared behind Lilian, brandishing a knife. He swung to hit him but you quickly put yourself in between them, getting slashed on your side instead of the prince.

You swiftly disposed of the attackers, slashing their throats and spilling blood all over your skin and clothes. You look so hot drenched in blood. But you had another problem on your hands, when you turn to assess the prince's well-being, you find him hyperventilating. Worried, you of course approach to calm him down, thinking it was due to him witnessing a traumatizing shight, but a jolt of pain stopped you. He noticed your hesitation and ran up to you, dragging you to lay down as he tries to help.

He doesn't know what to do though and he hyperventilates even more when he realizes he can't help you. Your warm hand grasping onto his forearm snapped him back to reality, you had to take over and guide him into putting pressure on the wound.

'Forgive me for staining you with my blood,' you would say, and he responds with a simple 'I cannot let you die...', odd considering the wound was shallow at best. Perhaps this was due to the fear of having to see another person die in front of him, he has always been kindhearted.

Half of it is true. Yes he fears of you dying in his arms, but on the other he was glad that the person who hurt you is now dead, just to the side of him with his neck sliced open with the blood now turning cold. If it was up to him he would have let the filth live just so he can lock him up in the dungeons to get tortured everyday until he succumbs to his injuries. Lilian should have been worried when his kindness turns into cruelty once it concerns you.

Once help finally arrives, he is quickly brought back to the castle where he agonizes your recovery and laments at the fact because of him you were hurt. When the sun sets and the moon rises, he finally settled on a heartbreaking decision. He would relieve you of your duty as a knight.

And so that night, you are his knight in shining armor no more. His knight who protected him with the same sword he now hangs on the wall across his bed, the same knight who once stood alone in the field to train until they collapse in exhaustion, the same knight who... Who now stands in front if him bearing not a sword but a pen, his knight who bows politely before introducing themselves as his new advisor, his knight whose devotion to the crown he shouldn't have underestimated.

[cheynovak]

The plan   

Russell Shaw x F/Reader Y/N            

Warnings: Age difference not too explicit.

Words:  1650 

*Does not follow Tracker’s storyline * 

I finally started writing about Russell, it took me a while, but I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

-- --      

Russell is ready to start his ‘retirement plan’ like he used to call it. He saw an old brewery on one of his jobs and went back to speak to the owner, an old man named Frank.  

Frank also owns a bar close to the brewery, his granddaughter Y/N works there as a bartender. Russell liked her immediately, realising he had to overcome two impossible tasks. One, to try and win Frank over to buy the brewery, two win Y/N over to go on a date with him.  

-- 

Russell had seen it all. His years working as a mercenary for the Horizon Group had taken him to every corner of the globe, exposing him to the darkest sides of humanity. Now he was ready to leave that life behind and find some semblance of peace.  

His plan was simple: buy an old brewery on the outskirts of town and live out his days crafting beer, a craft he had fallen in love with during his travels in Belgium. The brewery he had his mind set on, an aged brick building with ivy creeping up its walls, had been owned and operated by Frank Miller for the past forty years.  

Frank was well-known in the community for his craftsmanship and the warmth of his pub, which had become a beloved local spot for ex marines. However, convincing Frank to sell was proving to be more challenging than Russell had anticipated. 

It was late afternoon when Russell stepped into the pub, the scent of malt and hops mingling with the aged wood of the bar. The place was cozy, filled with the hum of low conversations and the clinking of glasses.  

As he approached the bar, he caught sight of a younger woman, her eyes sparkling with life, her movements graceful and assured as she served a group of regulars. She could easily be 10 to 15 years younger than him, a striking contrast to the pub's worn-in charm. 

"Can I get you something?" she asked, her voice cutting through his thoughts. Her nametag read Y/N. "Uh, yeah, just a pint of whatever's on tap," Russell replied, trying not to stare. She had a disarming smile, one that made the lines of his past seem a little less heavy. 

As she poured his drink, he couldn't help but notice the ease with which she moved, the way she seemed to know exactly how to engage each customer. When she handed him the pint, their fingers brushed slightly, sending a surprising jolt through him. "First time here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she wiped the bar down.  

"Yeah," he admitted. "I'm actually looking to buy the place." She laughed, a light sound that made him smile. "Good luck with that. My grandfather's pretty attached to this old place." "Your grandfather?" Russell echoed, a sinking feeling in his chest. "Yep. Frank Miller," she confirmed. "I'm Y/N." Russell took a long sip of his beer, trying to gather his thoughts. "So, you work here often?"  

"Pretty much every day. I've been helping out since I was a kid," she said, leaning on the bar. "So, why does a guy like you want to buy an old brewery?" He glanced around the pub, then back at her. "I've spent my life in a pretty rough business. This place... it feels like the kind of peace I've been searching for."  

Y/N studied him for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "Well, you're going to have a hard time convincing my grandpa. He loves this place more than anything." Russell nodded, appreciating her honesty. "I'll keep that in mind." 

Days turned into weeks, and Russell found himself visiting the pub more frequently, ostensibly to discuss the sale with Frank, but in truth, he was drawn to Y/N. They began to talk more, sharing stories over the bar, finding common ground in unexpected places. 

Despite their age difference, there was an undeniable connection between them. One evening, after closing time, Y/N found Russell sitting at the bar, nursing his usual pint. "You really don't give up, do you?" she teased, sliding into the stool next to him. He chuckled. "It's not just about the brewery anymore."  

She tilted her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Really?"  

"Yeah," he said quietly, meeting her gaze with a flirty look. Her smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of surprise and then something else, something deeper. "Russell, I..."  

Before she could finish, the door creaked open, and Frank walked through, his presence instantly commanding the room. His eyes, sharp despite his age, zeroed in on Russell. "Look, buddy, I don't know how many times I need to let you down, but I'm not selling." Russell raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'm just here for a beer, Frank." 

Frank's gaze softened slightly but didn't lose its edge. "Y/N, you need to look out for this man. He's ex-army. You never know what kind of trouble that can bring." Y/N laughed, a sound that lightened the tension. "So are you, Grandpa."  

He grumbled something under his breath, but a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He turned back to Russell, his eyes assessing. "So, you're here for the beer, huh?" Russell nodded. "And the company."  

Frank looked between Russell and Y/N, and Russell could see the wheels turning in the old man's head. Finally, Frank sighed. "Alright, just keep away from my granddaughter." Y/N grinned, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she refilled Russell's pint. "You heard the man." She winked at Russell. 

As the evening wore on, the pub emptied until it was just the three of them. Russell found himself opening up in a way he hadn't expected, sharing stories Frank, in turn, told tales of his own army days, and Y/N listened with rapt attention, occasionally interjecting with her own memories of growing up around the brewery.  

It was late when Frank finally stood up, stretching his back. "Alright, time for this old man to hit the sack. Y/N, lock up when you're done." Y/N nodded, watching her grandfather leave before turning back to Russell. "He's a tough nut to crack, but he likes you."  

Russell raised an eyebrow. "Could've fooled me." She laughed softly. "He sees a bit of himself in you, I think." Russell looked down at his drink, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Y/N, about what I said earlier..."  

Y/N interrupted, her tone gentle but firm. "Listen, Russell, you're a nice guy, and I get it. I'm a younger woman who's been friendly and serving you with a smile, but that doesn't mean there's anything going on here, okay?"  

Russell laughed, the sound echoing softly in the nearly empty pub. "That's one way to break a man's heart." Y/N knew he was joking, but she couldn't help but smile. "I know a lot of men, and one thing I can tell you, you don't strike me as the kind of guy who gets his heart broken by a woman." 

He chuckled, appreciating her candour. "You might be right about that, or maybe I haven’t found the right one yet." He leaned in closer.

She tapped his hand on the bar, signalling the end of their conversation. "Now, pay up so I can close up." Russell reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash, placing it on the bar. "Keep the change." Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Big spender tonight."  

"Just trying to stay in your good graces, might need it to win Frank over." he said with a grin. She shook her head, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "Good night, Russell."  

"Good night, Y/N," he replied, standing up and giving her one last look before heading for the door. 

-- 

The next day, he found himself back at the brewery, ready to face whatever came next with a renewed determination. Whether it was winning over Frank or getting to know Y/N better, he felt ready. But when he arrived, something was off. The brewery was closed, and a couple of police cars were parked out front.  

Russell’s heart sank as he spotted Frank talking to the police. He quickened his pace and approached the small group. “Frank, what’s going on?” he asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice. Frank turned to him, his face lined with worry and suspicion. 

“There was a robbery last night,” he said, his voice gruff. “And Y/N’s been missing ever since.” Russell felt a cold wave of fear wash over him. “Missing? What do you mean, missing?” Frank’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer to Russell.  

“She closed up last night, didn’t she? You were the last one here. Now she’s gone, and you show up again this morning?” Russell raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Frank, I swear, I left shortly after you. I haven’t seen her. You have to believe me.”  

One of the officers stepped forward. “Mr. Shaw, is it? We’ll need to ask you a few questions. “When was the last time you saw Ms. Y/L/N?” Russell recounted the previous evening, explaining how he’d paid his tab and left shortly after Frank had gone to bed. “I went straight back to the motel and didn’t see or hear anything after that.”  

The officer nodded, taking notes. “We’ll need to verify your alibi. In the meantime, if you think of anything, please let us know.” Russell nodded, feeling a mix of helplessness and frustration.  

As the police continued their investigation, he turned back to Frank. “I want to help find her.” Frank’s gaze softened slightly, but the suspicion lingered. Russell pulled out his phone. "I might know a guy who can help us." He said with his phone to his ear. He turned away from Frank.  

"Colter?... I need your help." 

--

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[and-justice-for-zoisite]

𝓣𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓮𝓭 𝓕𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼 Part 2 (𝔽𝕦𝕛𝕚𝕟 𝕩 𝕋𝕤𝕦𝕟𝕘! ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣)

Official Masterlist

Summary: Fujin meets his elusive thief once again, and they have a heart to heart talk about the reader's past.

Word Count: 2.6k words.

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Months had passed since their first encounter, and the memory of (Y/n) lingered in Fujin's mind like a whisper on the wind. The wind god had fulfilled his duties diligently, attending to the realms and protecting the balance of nature. But there was always a part of him that yearned for another encounter with the free-spirited thief who had stolen not only his attention but also a piece of his heart.

It was disappointing to know that (Y/n) Tsung hadn't yet made another attempt at stealing another item, despite what his brother would no doubt have to say should he be the one to discover her.

As the sun cast its golden rays upon the tranquil landscape, Fujin stood atop a grassy hill overlooking a bustling marketplace. It was a place where merchants displayed their goods, and people from all walks of life mingled and traded. The wind carried the sweet scent of spices and the chatter of eager voices.

He enjoyed not only watching over, but participating in the markets - such a simple yet joyous experience. As he strolled through the vibrant stalls, Fujin couldn't help but feel a sense of freedom and connection to the world around him. The colourful array of fruits, vibrant fabrics, and intricate crafts enticed his senses.

The locals knew of his presence and divine status, as well as that of his older brother, and they were beloved and worshipped figures, considering how close the markets took place to the Shaolin temples. For the most part, he was greeted by many, and he loved meeting new people, seeing new faces, and making new friends, as each individual human was something to be treasured.

Even with everything happening around him, he felt that emptiness in his eternal heart. His day to day life was dull otherwise, and he longed to see that forbidden fruit again that was (Y/n) Tsung.

Fujin was taken from his thoughts when he felt a figure push past him, seemingly in a hurry to get by. He allowed them, though a little taken a back by their rude gesture as he watched them.

They had on a hooded cloak, obscuring their identity as they travelled. Though, when he saw them outstretch a hand and nick an apple from a nearby stall, he knew exactly who he was looking at.

He grinned.

Swiftly, Fujin followed in her wake, weaving through the bustling marketplace with ease, his divine agility allowing him to keep up with her nimble steps. He admired the way she effortlessly blended into the crowd, her presence both elusive and magnetic.

As he caught up to her, Fujin reached out a grabbed a handful of her cloak. (Y/n) stumbled slightly as Fujin yanked her cloak, causing her hood to fall back and reveal her head of (h/c) hair. Surprise and amusement danced in her eyes as she turned to face him, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Fujin?" she called his name, her voice filled with a mixture of teasing and genuine delight. "I must say, I didn't expect to encounter you so soon. And at a market, no less."

Fujin chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I have a knack for finding what I'm looking for," he replied, his voice laced with amusement. "And it seems I've found you once again, my elusive thief."

She playfully raised an eyebrow.

"Thief, you say? I prefer to think of myself as a liberator of valuable items," she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "But I suppose thief has a certain ring to it."

He grinned, enjoying their banter and the familiar chemistry that crackled between them.

"Oh, I have no doubt you have a talent for liberating things," he said, his voice low and filled with innuendo. "Though, I must ask. Are you intending on paying for that?"

(Y/n) let out a laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She glanced down at the apple in her hand and then back at Fujin, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Paying? Where's the fun in that?" she replied with a playful smirk. "Besides, I'm sure the vendor won't miss one little apple."

"I would have been more than happy to purchase food for you, (Y/n)," Fujin sighed, raising a brow at her. "Though I suppose you're right, they most likely won't notice that apple's absence."

"Why don't you come walk with me, wind god?" she asked of him, breathing on the skin of her apple before rubbing it on her shirt. "I've not seen you in a while."

Fujin's gaze softened as he observed her playful nature, a fond smile gracing his lips. The wind gently rustled their hair as they strolled through the bustling marketplace.

"So, (Y/n)," Fujin began, "What's been keeping you away from the Sky Temple. Are you much too intimidated to try your scheme out again?"

(Y/n) laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she walked alongside Fujin. She took a moment to enjoy the lively atmosphere of the marketplace before responding.

"Intimidated? Not at all," she replied, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. "I've simply been caught up, is all. Like, literally. I was being held captive."

Fujin's playful expression turned into one of concern as he turned his full attention to (Y/n). The wind stilled around them, creating a momentary calm in the midst of the bustling market.

"Held captive?" Fujin repeated, his voice laced with worry. "What happened? Are you alright?"

(Y/n) waved her hand dismissively, trying to ease his concern.

"Oh, don't worry about me. It was nothing I couldn't handle. Just a little adventure gone awry. I may have underestimated the security measures of a certain treasure vault," she confessed sheepishly. Fujin's concern didn't waver, and he furrowed his brows.

"You should have informed me. I would have come to your aid," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

"Now how bad would that you look for you, my friend?" (Y/n) pointed out, raising a brow at him, "Protector of Earthrealm and God of wind being buds with Shang Tsung's daughter."

Fujin paused for a moment, considering her words. She had a point. As a deity tasked with safeguarding Earthrealm, his association with Shang Tsung's daughter would undoubtedly raise eyebrows and potentially cause complications.

"You make a good point, my dear," he sighed, his eyes casting toward her direction once more, "though I wish it weren't this way." "You trust me way too much, deity," (Y/n) sighed as they reached the end of the market, subconsciously continuing into the forest which outstretched beyond it. "I sense no ill-intentions from you," Fujin told her, giving her a small smile, "had I, I would've dealt with you by now."

(Y/n) chuckled softly, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Ah, so that's your measure of trust," she replied, her voice filled with playful sarcasm. "If you hadn't dealt with me by now, then I must be alright."

Fujin nodded, a hint of mischief in his gaze.

"Indeed, it's a fool-proof method," he said, matching her playful tone.

(Y/n) laughed, her eyes shining with amusement.

"I see your confidence is unwavering," she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

They shared a moment of comfortable silence between them, as an unspoken agreement formed between them that told them to keep walking together like this, through the forest. Though, Fujin hadn't seen her in such a long time, and was eager to catch up some more.

"Who exactly had you held captive for so long?" Fujin asked, still intrigued by the conversation they had just had before. "Oh, he's a nobody. Just my ex-boyfriend, Erron," (Y/n) sighed, scratching the back of her neck. "He's a real piece of work. But then again, aren't I for trying to infiltrate Kotal Kahn's place? I wouldn't have even bothered had I known he worked for him." "Erron Black?" he asked, raising a brow at her, "goodness, I hadn't known the two of you were an item at some point." "I don't exactly tell people, and neither did he. Honestly it's embarrassing enough having to be his ex, imagine how embarrassing it was to be his girlfriend," (Y/n) scoffed, running a hand through her hair. "We've got a complicated past. We were never a conventional couple, that's for sure. Our paths crossed during one of my adventures, and there was an undeniable attraction between us. But our differences ultimately drove us apart."

Somewhat of a smile played at (Y/n)'s lips, as she revelled in that bittersweet sense of nostalgia that came with remembering her past with that other man.

"I don't even know if he was there to be with me, or use my body, to be completely honest with you," she sighed, her vision straight ahead though she didn't seem focused on anything in particular. "But...it was nice to feel wanted for once, I guess."

Fujin could sense the mix of emotions swirling within (Y/n) as she opened up about her past with Erron Black. He understood that nostalgia could be both comforting and painful, especially when looking back at complicated relationships.

"Though your body is quite fantastic, it's important that your lover is there for your soul too," Fujin added, cheekily though his words were also wise. "Your body is only temporary, your soul is forever."

(Y/n) flushed bright red at the remark, and though she tried her hardest to conceal her reaction, her efforts were ultimately in vain, and Fujin couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'm sorry if that was too forward," he laughed, smiling down at her affectionately, "I tend to speak my mind, sometimes to the point of teasing. Please forgive me." "No, no...don't be sorry," (Y/n) spluttered, waving her hands in a dismissive way, flustered as ever. "I'm just...flattered, is all. And...not used to the compliments."

Fujin's laughter subsided, replaced by a gentle understanding. He could sense (Y/n)'s vulnerability and how unfamiliar she was with receiving sincere compliments.

"Well, get used to it because you deserve every bit of praise that comes your way," Fujin said, his voice filled with sincerity. "You possess qualities that go far beyond physical beauty. Your strength, courage, and resilience are truly admirable."

(Y/n) looked at him, her eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and gratitude. It was as if Fujin's words were shining a light on parts of herself that she had forgotten or overlooked.

"You're just saying that," (Y/n) let out a mix between a scoff and a laugh as she shook her head, looking away from him. "I don't say things just for the sake of saying them," Fujin assured her, walking a little closer to her, so that that her shoulder would brush against him as they strolled. "These words come from my heart, and they are meant for you, and you alone."

(Y/n) couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading within her at Fujin's words and his gentle proximity. His presence provided a sense of comfort that she hadn't realized she was craving.

Walking ahead, (Y/n) abruptly turned around to face Fujin, stopping the both of them in their tracks as she looked up at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Tell me this, Fujin," she began, her tone quite serious though he could sense her playful undertone as always, "why are you so interested in me?"

Fujin met (Y/n)'s gaze, his eyes unwavering as he considered her question. In all honesty, he didn't have a straight answer himself. He just...liked her. He liked being around her, even if this was only their second meeting. His intuition spoke to him, and of all people, it wanted her.

"To put it simply, (Y/n), I can't quite explain why I'm so interested in you," he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. "Sometimes, the heart simply knows what it wants, and it's drawn to certain individuals without any logical reasoning. All one can do is listen."

She stared at him for a moment, allowing herself to process his words in a quiet contemplation. The forest around them seemed to hold its breath as she thought, and it's serene nature didn't keep her thinking for very long.

"...you...you hardly even know me," she huffed, looking away from him. "You're right, (Y/n), but I want to."

(Y/n) couldn't help but feel a flutter in her chest, a mix of uncertainty and intrigue. She had been guarded for so long, protecting herself from the world and its complexities. But here was Fujin, offering her a chance to be known, to be seen.

"I've built walls around myself," she confessed, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to let someone in. Not again, not after the way he treated me."

There was a quiet thump as (Y/n) felt back into the grass, below the thick stump of a plum blossom. She took a moment to feel the earth below her, threading her fingers into the grass as she inhaled deeply, taking in all the smells around.

Fujin watched her, his gaze soft yet intent. He respected her vulnerability and the walls she had built to protect herself. He knew that trust couldn't be forced or rushed—it had to be earned.

Quietly, Fujin knelt down beside her, mirroring her actions and feeling the grass between his own fingers. The earth seemed to respond to their presence, embracing them in its ancient wisdom. He wanted (Y/n) to know that he would be patient, that he would wait for her to find the courage to let someone in again.

"There doesn't need to be any strings tied to this," Fujin said gently, his eyes never leaving hers. "No expectations, no pressure. I simply enjoy your company and want to know you better. It's okay to take things one step at a time."

She gazed at him thoughtfully, her eyes taking the time to memorise all of his features.

Fujin met her gaze, his own eyes reflecting a quiet intensity and a genuine curiosity about the person before him. He appreciated the thoughtful way she observed him, as if she was cataloging every nuance, every detail.

The forest around them seemed to echo their stillness, and the world beyond their small haven felt distant and unimportant. In this moment, it was just the two of them, the earth beneath them, and the secrets of their hearts.

Then, a small chuckle, one which fell from (Y/n)'s lips.

She sat up.

"You know, Lord Fujin," she began, getting up from off the ground and brushing herself off. "I think that if I see you one more time, I just might fall in love with you."

She sighed, he back to him though she had her head turned so she could see him in the corner of her eye.

"...so, I suppose we can wait and see til then, can't we?"

Without so much as another word, she disappeared into a plume of dark smoke.

Fujin watched her vanish into the plume of dark smoke, his heart feeling strangely light yet heavy all at once. Her words lingered in the air, echoing through the quiet forest. He couldn't help but smile, touched by her honesty and the hint of vulnerability she had shown.

"As you wish," he whispered softly to the empty space where she had stood.

Fujin remained there for a while, alone in the forest, the fading echoes of her laughter in his ears and the memory of her presence in his heart. It was a moment he would carry with him, a fragment of something beautiful and unexpected.

With a final glance at the tranquil woods, he too vanished into the wind, leaving the forest to its ancient secrets and the promise of another meeting, whenever fate deemed it so.

-

[lolibles]

A-Z with kazuha

character: kazuha x reader

pure fluff, complete brainrot, some angst not much tho

synopsis: the fluff alphabet with kazuha

implied gn!reader but please let me know if there are any mistakes or things i should look out for when writing gn!reader, im still learning!! <3 NOT PROOFREAD its so long and im lazy :)

A- how affectionate are they with their s/o?

kazuha is a very affectionate person, and he doesn’t try to hide it. kazuha is known for his flowery words, while kazuha loves to turn all kinds of things into poetry, its painfully obvious when one is about you. kazuha never fails to show his affection and love to you with his words and endless haikus of you. he can not stop talking about you, and even though sometimes he does it to tease you and get a laugh at your flustered expression, every time he declares his undying love for you, he means it.

B- what their s/o does that takes their breath away?

there are many things you do that take his breath away, but one thing that makes his heart do backflips is when you remember his haikus, and keep his gifted poems. kazuha has dedicated too many of his poems to you to count, kazuha himself can barely remember all of them. so you can say he was very shocked when one night you randomly whispered a poem he created for you months ago into his ear. kazuha was beyond shocked, his head never turned so fast to look at you, eyes widening. when he asked how you still remembered it, you pulled out a little notebook with scribbles of the poems and pieces of paper stuck inside with notes of dates, and the occasional doodles. you said it was so you never forget any of them, even when you were old. as kazuha flipped through the book he noticed poems from as far back as when he barely knew you. kazuha turned back to you and buried his head in your neck, attempting to hide the blush on his face as he kept mumbling i love you. his heart was swooning with love and joy for you, he knew you loved him, but he never knew something as simple as that could make his whole world stop.

C- do they like cuddling? if so, how and when?

kazuha loves cuddling so much. kazuha is honestly pretty touch starved so he constantly craves your touch. kazuha also gets pretty tired after working a full day out on the alcor or helping out with the resistance. he believes after a full days worth of hard work nothing beats lazing around tangled in your arms. kazuha doesn’t mind being the big spoon or little spoon. there are times of vulnerability where kazuha just needs you to hold him close, run your fingers through his hair and tell him everything will be okay. and there are times where he wants to hold you tight in his embrace as if he was protecting you for the most malicious forces in the world. there are also times where he simply just wants to be close to you, bodies smushed together, his hands wrapped around you with his neck buried in your collar. he tries to make you laugh or giggle so he can feel the vibrations of your sweet voice. kazuha loves to cuddle you at night before bed, he loves to fall asleep with you, the sound of your heartbeat lulling him to sleep, the warmth of your body is so pleasant and inviting. however cuddling at night often means waking up much later than usual. it means that either beidou or gorou angrily barging into your quarters to wake you guys up because you both were late, threatening to split the both of you up since you can never wake up on time.

D- what do they dream of doing with their s/o?

kazuha is a simple man, he finds joy and love in the littlest things. but that doesn’t ever stop him for dreaming- or rather hoping. he wishes one day he can walk down the streets of his hometown and show you the different sights. he hopes that there will be a day when he can see you wear a kimono, under the moonlight as he takes you up to a secluded spot to view the beautiful fireworks, although he will argue that you are far more lovely. kazuha hopes to bring you to see the sakura trees bloom, as you talk about how you wished you could’ve have seen them earlier, he wishes he can brush off the flower petals on your head before pulling you in for a gentle kiss. most importantly kazuha hopes that one day, he can bring you to visit his friend. even if he no longer is blessed upon this world, kazuha is sure he would have loved you. it is only necessary for kazuha to introduce his beloved to his only family.

E- how much effort do they put into the relationship?

kazuha pours his entire soul into your relationship, you are the only one he has left after all. kazuha believes his sole purpose is to treat you like his queen, if even for a second you feel like you aren’t loved, then he has failed. kazuha wants to serve you, though you often tell him he should try to put himself first, he’d merely chuckle and say “if i’m the reason you smile as brightly as the sun, the reason you sleep well at night or the reason you wish to wake up the next day. then there is not a thing i would change.”

F - do they want to start a family with their s/o? what is parenting like with them?

after getting over kazuha's fear of marriage (check M), kazuha wouldn't mind starting a family. although he is perfectly fine if it is just the two of you. if you want children then he is ready to learn, for you. i think kazuha would settle with one or two children, and he says he doesn't mind if you have a girl or a boy- but he is hoping on a boy. kazuha would be a great dad, apart from the fact he travels a lot and is rarely home. he tries his best to be there for you, he usually takes on jobs in the area you are staying or go on shorter trips with the crux while you are in the first few years having a child. he doesn't want to leave all the work to you of raising a young child, nor does he want to miss out those precious years of being a new parent. he loves adventuring but he loves his family too. another thing kazuha can not get enough of is seeing the look on your child's face when he arrives back after a trip, waiting for him at the harbour, flailing their arms about to capture his attention. and he can not ignore the look on your face either, so happy that your loving husband is home. kazuha can be strict but he prefers not to be, he can't say no to those curious eyes that look just like yours. i like to think that kazuha teaches your child to be a smooth talker just like him, this means they both get out of trouble a lot with you. despite kazuha's aloof demeanour, he actually has a rather playful side to him often pulling small pranks with your child on you. he tells your child stories of all kinds of adventures he has been on, your heart swoons at the sight of your child resting atop his chest trying his best not to fall asleep due to the warmth kazuha radiates. kazuha teaches your child all about inazuma and his heritage, telling them about the history and how one day he will bring both them and you to visit his homeland. the safety of his family is his number one priority, he will do anything to protect you and your child. he also teaches your child how to fight, and most importantly self-defence. if you both are travellers though, you decide to wait until your child is older to bring them on your adventures. and when they are, beidou certainly doesn't mind having a little kid running around the alcor causing a ruckus amongst other crew members.

G- what kind of gifts to they give their s/o? do they want one in return?

kazuha has always loved the sentiment of crafting a handmade gift. the amount of time and effort that goes into making something, is enough to show how much love someone has for them. kazuha also always loves to imagine what kind of expression you’d have after receiving his gift, he never asks for anything in return, well actually occasionally he’ll ask for a kiss thats it. kazuha remembers making you a beautiful hairpin, one that matched with his maple leaf haori. he gave it to you one night randomly, his hands pushing aside a bit of your hair to pin up. the way your eyes closed as he inches closer, his fingers occasionally brushing against your skin. when he finally backed away from you to take a look at his masterpiece, he was stunned. the way your face glistened from under the moonlight, you were so ethereal. his breath hitched, and the calm man sitting in front of you became flustered. kazuha made a note to always mentally prepare himself before giving you a gift that you could physically wear- if not he’d definitely blow a fuse.

H- do they hug their s/o? how often?

kazuha definitely hugs you, but i feel like hugs only happen at specific times. of course he will indulge you if you ask for it. kazuha hugs you when he misses you, when he needs you close to him. if you didn’t travel with him, he hugs you a goodbye and a hello. kazuha hugs you tightly because he knows he will be leaving soon, or he misses you so much and never wants to let you go. if someone ever makes kazuha jealous (which doesn’t happen very often), he will hug you from your waist whilst no one was looking, as he buries his head into your neck, taking in your scent. “your mine.” he’d whisper, hugging you tighter. “i am yours.”

I- how romantic are they? do they have problems with being intimate?

kazuha has very little problems with intimacy, he is a naturally romantic person. the way he speaks should be more than enough as evidence. he doesn’t get flustered easily, and he loves to see your expressions when he does something overly romantic- cheesy even, at the most random times. his poetry and haikus are often of you, he doesn’t shy away from flirting with you, teasing you, and constantly he is thinking of different ways to show his love to you. like i said he never knows what may happen tomorrow, so he is going to spend every day in the present being romantic and loving to you.

J- do they get jealous easily? how do they act?

i can’t typically see kazuha as getting jealous easily. there is often the rare occasion of him getting impatient because someone else has held your attention for too long, but other than that its very rare for kazuha to get jealous- he trusts you too much and feels like there’s simply no need for such feelings. i feel like one of the only few times kazuha would get jealous is when he’s drunk. drunk kazuha is needy and clingy, he wants to be around no one but you. if there is the slightest bit of space between you two, kazuha is determined to get rid of it by any means necessary. if you’re having a conversation with someone, be prepared to continue it another day because kazuha is whisking you away and peppering you with kisses while glaring at the person who kept you away from him the whole time. it gets a little uncontrollable when it happens, but kazuha remembers everything that happens the night before and his reaction is absolutely priceless.

K- are they a good kisser? do they like it? how often?

kazuha is miraculously a great kisser, well that is debatable from the beginning since he didn’t have much experience but he learnt very fast, and he is an amazing learner. kazuha’s everyday kisses can range from many varieties. kazuha’s forehead kisses usually linger for just the right amount of time, they are comforting and homely. it feels like you can tell how much kazuha trusts and adores you when he gives you forehead kisses. kazuha’s cheek kisses are different. they are quick and fleeting, usually he peppers your face with them, instead of a single kiss. it is playful and often filled with laughter, kazuha does it with a teasing note as his hands cup your face and pulls you closer for another kiss attack. lastly kazuha’s kisses on your lips, saved for the most romantic and intimate moments you share. often hidden from the public where kazuha can show you how much he loves you without any interruptions. they are passionate and always leaves the both of you wanting for more. he kisses you not too rough not too gentle, just until your lips are slightly plump and red. he takes your cheek in his hand, his other on your waist, pulling you close he whispers “may i?” and if you allow him, he will make sure this is a kiss you never forget.

bonus: kisses on the back of your neck, saved for the most private moments. if you have longer hair he likes to brush your hair back and place a teasing kiss on your neck, just to see you get flustered. and if you have shorter hair he finds himself often staring at the back of your neck, and just decides to indulge himself a few times with a kiss- teasing you along the way.

L- when do they say i love you? how often? do they say or show it more?

kazuha has always been more of a mix of both, he tends to show his love a lot yet he never fails to let you know he loves you. kazuha says it when it is just the two of you, when he has your attention and he has yours. he says it while tangled in your arms, under the blankets as you try to fight the feeling of sleep so you can spend more time with your beloved. kazuha shows it in his actions, even if done unconsciously, he somehow manages to convey ‘i love you’. its evident in the way he smiles for you, his eyes glistening as he lets out a hearty laugh. its evident in the way he holds your hand, guiding you down the stairs- even though you are perfectly capable of walking on your own. it is evident in the way he stares at you while you patch him up after he got hurt again, listening to your mother-like nagging to be careful. he doesn’t always say it outright, but you know, you know he loves you.

M- thoughts on marriage? how do they want to hold the ceremony?

well kazuha definitely has thought about it, thats for sure. in all honesty he is a little intimidated by the idea of marriage. don’t get me wrong, he wants to get married to you, its just kazuha has an interesting past. he’s afraid that somehow even if he’s miles away from her, she’d end up coming back to haunt him, and this time take you too. kazuha also knows unlike others, he can’t offer you the most stable life. he fled from his own country, a god literally wants him dead. he wanders around without an end destination, no real home anymore. he wonders if you really want to get married to someone like him- this thoughts are the things that keep him awake at night. if you ever help kazuha get over his fears and make him understand you love him for who he is now, perhaps he wouldn’t hesitate before popping the question. he would love a quiet and small ceremony, he doesn’t mind a grand wedding but he would prefer something more lowkey and intimate. no distractions so he can take it all in, you finally are his.

N- what are dates like with them? how often do you guys have night outs?

dates aren’t as easy to come by with kazuha, working on the sea or with the resistance means work needs to be done and there isn’t much time for going out. but kazuha makes it work, most of the time its rather spontaneous. kazuha would appear before you and ask you to close your eyes, taking your hands in his to guide you to a little spot he made up on the alcor. hidden away from the drunkards causing a ruckus on deck. he sits you down next to him on a nice blanket and asks you to open your eyes. its a cute little get up, a few snacks and sake under the stars. kazuha would apologise for not being able to give you a proper date, yet you couldn’t ask for more. he’d pull you close saying he didn’t want you to get cold, and he’d teach you about stars and constellations.

another time while you both were working hard for the resistance, kazuha showed up by your tent at night and asked you to accompany for a walk. kazuha would take your hand in his, as he carried an umbrella over your heads. he wouldn’t bring you too far from camp but he tried to make your time worthwhile. he’d tell you about the poems he made of you the afternoon since he missed you the whole day. he’d promise to take you somewhere nicer once everything was under control again- he gives your hand a squeeze and kisses you on the cheek. it wasn’t much but it was all you both had. )

O- what would they do if their s/o got hurt or injured badly? (ouch)

it doesn’t matter how hurt you got, small or big, kazuha feels his world stop spinning. his mind flashes back to the moment he watched his friend die, and he desperately tries to keep his emotions at bay. tears threaten to spill, his voice cracks as he asks where you are. he gets to you as fast as he can, he begs that his legs don't give way yet. he blames himself for not being able to protect you, he couldn't save his friend, but please not you. the moment he catches the glimpse of your body bandaged up, bruises scattered all over skin, he can not contain the amount of guilt that rushes over himself. kazuha is by your side in an instant, taking your hand gently as he lets his eyes scan over your injury. he doesn't stop apologising, he lowers his head as he lets the waterworks run. ironically watching kazuha blame himself for not being able to protect you hurts more than the injuries you have sustained. if you can, please take him into your arms, tell him it's not his fault and you are okay. kazuha wouldn't know what to do if you were gone too.

P- are they playful in the relationship? how do they mess around with their s/o?

it may not look like it, but kazuha is rather playful. especially when it is just the two of you, kazuha suppresses the urge to not tease you. he can't help that you are just so easy to tease. he likes to challenge you to little games at the expense of a kiss. he loves seeing your expressions when he teases you, or purposely loses to you at a game. he also loves to flirt with you, tell you how much he loves you and how much he wants to make you his- even if you already are. he definitely is the type to ask you if your single and want to date him while you are dating, he says "your boyfriend doesn't need to know, so just come with me" and if you play along he falls more in love. it's also dangerous if your a ticklish person, he will often poke you just to hear your laugh or squeal. he craves to hear your melodic laugh, he never wants you to shut up. kazuha is never mean when he plays around with you though, he never crosses the line and he can read the mood well. he knows when is the right time to mess around with you, and he knows when to stop. as much as he loves it he never wants to make you mad. i

Q- what will they do if their s/o is queer or part of the LGBT community? how will they react?

kazuha doesn't mind, he believes that love is love and coincidentally he loves you for you. kazuha listens and is keen on learning your past and why you decides to be who you are now. he picks up on your prefered pronouns without hesitation and treats you with nothing but respect. if you are insecure about it, he will make it his only goal to write you a poem a day about how much he loves you and how much he wishes for you to find self love. kazuha is aware of the occasional disapproval from outsiders, and he doesn't think twice before using his vision to mess with them, knocking them off their balance or messing up their hair. he tells you that others may say what they want but you need not worry for there are many others who love you and will love you for the rest of their lives- him included.

R- how random and spontaneous is the relationship?

a relationship with kazuha is beyond random. there are moments when kazuha just grabs your hand and takes you away to some place because he wants to be with you. kazuha enjoys surprising you with things as well, if he sees something he thinks you will like, he will buy it or attempt to make it for you. when he travels he definitely brings you back pressed flowers or pretty gemstones that remind him of you. kazuha often does things for you on a "just because" basis, even if it holds no significant reason, he will give you a gift, give you a kiss or whatever you want. kazuha also randomly declares his love for you just because.

S- what do they do is their s/o is scared?

kazuha knows what its like to be scared, to feel petrified to the point its hard to breathe, hard to speak, hard to move. his world crumbles at the thought of how you may go through emotions like that. he never wants you to go through any pain, it simply doesn’t matter what causes you to feel so frightened. if it scares you, it scares you. there is no need for him to laugh at you or belittle your feelings. kazuha will never forgive himself if he makes you feel invalidated. when you are scared, kazuha will be by your side in an instant, his arms engulfing you like a warm blanket, as he whispers sweet nothings into you ear. he asks you to focus on his fingers tracing shapes onto your back. he doesn’t let go of you until he feel your heart rate return to normal. and when it does, he releases you from his tight grip to kiss away the tears rolling down your cheeks. giving you a simple smile. “my love, i wont let anything harm you. i love you.”

T- how much do they trust their s/o?

to be in a relationship means kazuha trusts you a lot. kazuha has gone through much, and is constantly on the run. there are few people he can open up to and trust that they would not leave him behind. it takes a while for kazuha to tell you about everything, don't get me wrong he knows he loves you but it isn't easy to bring something so dark about his past to light. he hopes you don't get mad or disturbed by him for keeping it hidden for so long. when he finally does tell you about his past, and you stick by him no matter what he feels his heart slowly gets put back into place.

U- do they like to take things slow or fast? (urgency)

kazuha takes things at a pretty average pace. honestly it's kind of like a write off, he knows it will take him a while to fully trust someone yet he is undoubtedly touch-starved. and when it comes to you he can't seem to hold himself back. when kazuha courts you its slow and relaxed, he never wants to force you into a relationship and make you uncomfortable. he takes his time to learn what you like and dislike, he takes his time to get to know you. and when you finally start dating he tends to take things faster, not too fast though, he makes sure everything he does is okay with you before rushing in head first. unconsciously he tends to touch you a lot, he finds comfort in your warmth. sometimes it's as simple as brushing your hair back, and sometimes it's having his hands on your thigh while you sit next to him. he just loves it so much.

V- how vocal are they about the relationship? do they want it to be a secret?

kazuha prefers to keep it lowkey. only a few people know of your relationship with him. he doesn't want you to get hurt because of him, after all he is rather infamous for escaping from the shogunate and their leader. he also is more on the private side. however its very easy to tell that kazuha is infatuated with you solely by the way he looks at you, talk of you. you can tell that he is completely smitten over you, it takes someone awfully dense to not realise his feelings for you.

W- random scenario with them! (wild card)

the first time kazuha saw you dressed up so beautifully was when beidou insisted that the both of you attended a party in liyue with her. he didn't enjoy parties as much but he thought it would be nice for you to take a break from running away, and if you were there he was sure it would be a lot more bearable. and he was right, it was. beidou had whisked you away earlier to be presentable for the occasion, kazuha himself had to wear something he wasn't used to- he thought it was uncomfortable. but the moment he saw you walk out of the room dressed to the nines, all the discomfort that came with his outfit was thrown out the window and replaced with fluster. kazuha was quick to regain his normal charm however, throwing compliments in your directions as he held out his arm for you to hold- yet not even his sly behaviour could escape your eyes, there indeed was a blush on his cheeks. beidou left the two of you to be, enjoying the food and lovely music playing in the background, yet all kazuha could hear was the melody of your voice. as the room fell silent and a slow tune began, kazuha earned a few nudges from beidou "ask them to dance" she whispered. and he did, it felt like it was straight out of a fairy tale. his eyes were burning into yours as he reached his hand out. you gladly accepted, but you never knew kazuha had learnt to dance, especially so well. you suppose everything about him is eloquent. the moment was something you'd cherish for the entirety of your life, the feeling of him guiding your footsteps along to his. his hands resting perfecting on your waist as yours did by his neck. he often made small jokes about the other stuck up guests, which made you laugh. his heart fluttered. as the song came to an end, you gave him a small kiss on his cheek. a smile appeared on his face, your action warming his chest.

"won't you dance with me again, my love?"

X- do they like petnames? do they use petnames? (XOXO)

kazuha loves using petnames on you. he likes to call you darling or my love. he finds using nicknames rather endearing, and he loves how you react with a simple "hm?" because you know he loves you like that. if you ever give kazuha a petname his heart swoons in adoration for you. he loves them! but kazuha also loves the way his name rolls off your tongue, the sound of your voice is like maple syrup in his ears.

Y- what do they do when they yearn for you?

missing you is something kazuha is unfortunately used to. given that kazuha is a traveller it is understandable why you two are often apart. when kazuha misses you, everyone can tell. especially since your absence in his life is all his poetry becomes. he muses how you are and how it hurts being so far from you. he often finds himself immersed in creating more haikus to show you when he finally reunites with you. more here.

Z- what is sleeping like with them? (zzz)

sleeping with kazuha is warm, you never have to fear the cold especially with kazuha's arms wrapped protectively around you. kazuha doesn't care whether he is the big spoon or small spoon, he just wants to be with you. if he spoons you, just make sure that he wakes up earlier than you if not he is never letting go. his grip is not too tight but still very strong around you. he enjoys being close to you and he loves how you let him be near you. if you are spooning him, please let kazuha rest his head in the crook of your neck. he loves to feel your heartbeat as he tries to fall asleep, the last thing he hears is your heart thumping every so peacefully. the smell of your soap puts him to sleep in a way he never knew it could. he loves how this time you wrap your arms around him to protect him instead, for once he feels like in your arms, he is perfectly safe.

oh my god this took so damn long???? but i didn't have much inspiration and this just came to mind. some letters were EXTREMELY hard to write so please excuse if its a little ooc i tried ;-; im glad im done tho, this honestly is the longest thing i have written in a very very long time and im really happy i did. im also pretty excited to try it for other characters i already have childe's and xiao's one in mind :) anyway!!!!!! please let me know if you liked this thank u bebs muah...

[sapphire-dreamsky]

Red Night

Starring: Ryomen Sukuna, Curse!Reader, OCs

Pairing: Sukuna x Curse!Reader

Warning: Death of minor characters.

A/N: It's kind of a historical AU? I mean Sukuna has his original form, and it takes place in the past. But it's also historically innaccurate😅. I apologise in advance.

In retrospect, (y/n) knew it was fruitless. The gap between curses and humans was far too large. It was already set in the humans’ heart, the fear which accompanies ‘their’ apparition. By ‘their’ they mean curses of course. People were so scared of them that the mere utterance of their name, in their superstitious mind, meant immediate death. 

But (y/n) wanted to believe in the hope that one day, curses and humans could understand each other. She wanted them to be able to make a compromise so that both can live in peace. This shouldn’t be impossible. Curses are born from humans. Some humans even become curses. But that hope was squashed down as the townspeople grew to fear her. 

Sukuna watches as the town which once worshipped the ground (y/n) walked on, were now chanting her demise. They brought forth their pitchforks, their torches all in the hopes of killing the abomination. The abomination they once worshipped as if she was a goddess. Well, she was one in his eyes. A foolish, naive goddess, but still his. 

The woman looked around her, eyes gleaming in the orange glow of the fire. She so desperately wanted to turn back time. She wonders where it all went wrong. Did all her good deeds disappear as quickly as the day turned into the night? Her mind takes her back to a few months back. When she was arguing with her king.

“You are being foolish, (y/n). I once was a human exterminating curses. I know how the human mind works. They will hate you whatever you do.”

“But Sukuna, don’t you want a world where we can both live freely? Without the omnipresent fear that humans will always want to kill the likes of us?”

“I live for killing humans. I live for the carnage. But if you’re so stubborn, go on to that town down our mountain. Prove me wrong if you so desire to get along with these pests.” Sukuna rolled his four eyes, four arms crossed on his chest. He could care less about living with humans. He thought that the life they were leading up that mountain was enough. No one could disturb them there. But no, (y/n) had to have this stupid idea in her pretty little mind. Sometimes the King wonders how she became a curse with so much kindness and compassion in her heart. He could hardly see her curse anyone. She was too kind for her own good. That’s a part of her personality Sukuna cannot get rid of.

And so she headed down to the town at the foot of the mountain they were residing at. She remembers their warm smile as they welcome her into their ranks. She looked like them after all. Mere humans wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between human curses and themselves. They merely thought that her tattoos were among one of the oddities which she had. She stayed in the town for six months. Six blissful months where all their woes disappeared thanks to (y/n). She healed the young and elderly to her best abilities despite using curse energy. She helped the crops grow even during floods. The town is prospering more than ever since her arrival. And so, they made a shrine for her. They showered her with praises, thanking the gods for sending their messenger to their town. 

Sukuna watched from the temple as his lover went and made friends around town. He watched her giving her warm smiles to children as they tugged on her kimono for attention. He watched her become known as the merciful goddess of that town. The king of curses didn’t know what to think. Her ideas were foolish. Humans and curses can never coexist. That’s the truth. But he let her run around. He only watched from a distance because he knew that he was the one who would be right. It won’t be long before she realizes that humans were monsters in sheep’s clothing. It won’t be long until she comes back to his side.

(Y/n) felt happy. She was glad that she could help the people. A positive feeling accompanied all the good deeds. The people were happy with her presence. ‘It won’t be long until they see that curses have feelings too!’ (Y/n) though ecstatically. What she didn’t know was that she gained the attention of not only the people living in the town but also those who ruled that town. And cruel was the man who watched the beautiful woman in the pink flower-patterned kimono as she walked around town carelessly, with an easy smile. He shall have her. She will be his newest concubine. He was the Lord of that land. Everything belonged to him. And that included that peculiar woman. Messenger of the gods or not, that had little importance in his eyes, for he was the Lord who ruled over everything. It didn’t matter if she was married or engaged, for he lived only for his own pleasure.

It was a cloudless day. (Y/n) was going to visit Sukuna again as was her habit. In her hand was a wooden basket an elderly woman crafted for her after learning she was going up to the shrine on the mountain. “Be careful,” said the elderly woman with a concerned tone, “I hear that there are wild animals up that mountain. It’s dangerous. No one goes there anymore because of them.” (Y/n) smile reassuringly at her. She knew for a fact that there were no wild animals. Sukuna was merely protective of the place he decided to claim as his own. The elderly woman was the first one who welcomed her to that town. She introduced to the young curse everything she had to know about the town’s custom and their cultures. To the curse, she was like a grandmother. The elderly woman had no family and was a widow. She lived alone in her house of stone on the outskirt of town. So, (y/n) took it upon herself to visit her as often as she could. She would often bake (y/n) some treats to repay her help around her house. The curse would often bring them up to Sukuna so that they could eat it together. The King was disgusted at first. But after much nagging, he relented and begrudgingly said that they tasted “alright”. That meant to (y/n) that they tasted good. That he liked them. So she would always bring him the treats the old widow prepared for her. Watching him enjoy something so simple makes her so happy. It’s like a reminder for her. A reminder that Sukuna used to be a human. Watching him eat is so grounding because she could pretend that they were normal. That they wouldn’t get shun should they decide to live amongst humans. She wanted to go to the market with her king. She wanted to do domestic chores that her parents used to do a long time ago. She wanted to go to festivals with her king even if he would complain the whole time. It was these little wishes which kept her trying to make peace with humans. She wanted Sukuna to enjoy something human. Something which would remind him that he too used to be human.

The road to the mountain was always quiet. It was not very used since people rarely travelled this way. But today, there was a very fancy carriage with some guards obscuring her usual route. (Y/n) came to a halt in front of the carriage, head cocked to the side, confused. The guards open the door and help a tall man down. He was a tall human with black hair and green eyes. He might have been handsome in humans’ standard. But he paled in comparison to her beloved grouchy King. He gave her what he considered his ‘best smile’. It was a grin really. It was so different from Sukuna’s. The grin of this human makes her uncomfortable. The grin of Sukuna made her feel butterflies in her stomach. It made her nervous in a good way. 

“Rejoice woman! For, the great ruler of the town has decided to make you his concubine! This is not a favour which is given to many. You are special in my eyes so get in the carriage and let’s head back to the palace immediately! I want to get acquainted with you, lovely flower.” The woman cringes. Sukuna who was rude and crass was finally not that bad. ‘There are people who are worse than him when trying to flirt, after all. How shocking.’ But nevertheless (Y/n) politely bows her head in apology. It would be bad if she upset the Lord since she wanted to get along with his people after all. “ I apologize, My Lord. There is already someone in my life at the moment. I’m certain, however, that you will find someone more fitting for the position you are offering.” With that, the young woman leaves the flabbergasted man behind and continues her road to the mountain. The road which led to the king of her heart. 

The man watches her leave in anger. No one was ever brave enough to simply brush him aside like that. How dare she humiliate him in front of his guards like that. The lord was turning red. With a cold cutting voice, he orders his guards to spread a rumour. ‘The pretty little woman will soon run begging for mercy at his feet.’ He thought, chuckling maniacally.

After she spent her night with her King who was attention-starved, not that he would admit it. He would rather fight a thousand shamans than admit that he missed his annoying woman. (Y/n) decides to go back to town to see if there was anything she could help with. Instead of the warm welcome, she always gets, all she receives is cold shoulders and glares. The people cowered away from her. ‘Could they know about my real identity?’ Worried, she decides to go to the one person who would tell her everything. The old woman’s shop was closed today. (Y/n) had to head to the house on the outskirts of town. Just going there took the young woman the whole morning. She knocked on the woman’ door. In the corner of her eyes, she sees a curtain move. The door opens quickly, a frail old hand grabs the curse and drags her inside before quickly shutting the door. 

“Oh my poor child. You should not have come back! You have to run away before nightfall!” (Y/n) looks at her confused. “But why?” The woman shakes her head gravely. “The lord of this town is awful. He takes whoever he wants. If they don’t go along with him, they are killed by the townspeople.” The curse recoils. Frozen in her shock, the elderly woman goes on. “He told everyone that you were a witch. You fornicate with the devil which is why you can heal, do so many miracles for us. Everyone is scared right now. They will-” 

A loud bang resonates. Shouts of anger can be heard from outside. The moon shines in red glows as torches illuminate the night. The old woman drags the curse to the side door and pushes her outside. “Go! I will distract them!” “Grandma, no! You have to come with me! I can protect us both!” The old woman shakes her head and smiles at the curse gently. “You might not be human, but your heart is kinder than most. This house means everything to me. I want to die between these walls.’’ The woman pushes (y/n) one more time. The curse watches as they condemn the human who has been so kind to her from the very first day. The curse watches as they burn this house to the ground. The memories she made with the woman burning and disappearing in the fire. Oh, how cruel humans can be.

Alerted by the smell of fire, Sukuna exits his temple and watches as the town below chases after his lover. Their torches and angry shouts can be heard in the silence of the night. Sukuna watches as his lover stands in the middle of the crowd. The lord watches in satisfaction from his home as they chase down the woman who humiliated him. Ready to intervene, Sukuna runs down the path leading to the little town.

(Y/n) shocked at the turn of the events, looks around her. These people that she helped in the past. These people who would always smile at her when she is passing through town. They were now cursing at her, wishing her dead. They killed one of their own because of a sin that she didn’t commit. Because of the old widow’s kind heart. Her eyes are glassy. She can feel a tear falling down. It hurts. It suffocates her. She can barely breathe as they keep on chanting her demise. The people she loved turned against her. Sukuna was right. Even without knowing what she truly was, humans would always chase away those who didn’t appear humans. 

And so, during that full moon, which would later be known as the Red Night, she burned that town to the ground without Sukuna’s help. She became their worst nightmare. Their worst fear came to reality as they angered the goddess. The lord who instigated all of this tragedy watches in fear as (y/n) burned his town to the ground. He would become the only living witness. He would later tell his children about the story of the goddess of his old town. The scar which marred with once flawless skin that he received from her would be the only proof of her very existence. The proof that you should not anger a curse. 

Sukuna held her as they went back to their temple. For once, he spared her of his snide comment. He doesn’t complain as she wets his kimono with her tears. His four arms encircle her form protectively. She might have been foolish but she was his. And the gods forbid, Sukuna took care of everything which was his. Even if they annoy him by forcing him to eat sweets, even if she would hug him without the fear that he would snap and kill her in an instant. Sukuna might not understand the concept of love, as a human, he loved no one but himself. But as a curse, he knew that he loved her as he let her sit comfortably in his lap. He knew he loved her when he let her make a home in his temple. She knew Sukuna loved her when he held her tight and never let go.

[mudhornchronicles]

maroon | din djarin

gif posted by sledposting 

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: all the fluff, soft!din but then i said sike... angst, mentions of death and violence, also mentions of... sexual encounters?

a/n: lowkey wanna make into a series, but idk if someone has done this. if so, i do apologize. 

masterlist

“You best learn how to weave, girl. A husband wouldn’t be caught dead wearing tattered clothing, let alone a Mandalorian riduur.”

“You must wear much more layered clothing. A Mandalorian riduur wants a respectable woman at his side.”

“Learn these recipes and maybe you’ll find yourself a Mandalorian riduur.”

You’ve grown tired of hearing this every day, but you sit back and simply nod. Mandalore may have not been your birth planet, but they took care of you after your father and brother both fell valiantly in battle. You were on your own after that. Your mother was not a Mandalorian, she was originally from Naboo. When your father was called back to Mandalore to assist in the ceremonial trials, your mother decided it was time she left. She said she was promised a tranquil life with the clan of four on Naboo, but the creed had to be followed. You have not heard from her since you were 7 years old.

Now as you’ve come to an age of maturity, you were being trained to… be a wife? 

You sat back and obeyed the elders wishes, but you knew that their rants were not true - not in the slightest. Your father never depended on your mother to do anything for him. Because of that, he taught you how to defend yourself and be independent. Although your father was devoted to The Way, he did not want you to swear the creed. Not because you were incapable, but because he did not want you to go through life with the restrictions that the creed entails. Even if you wanted to rebel against your loving father’s wishes, you were not able to be properly trained nor swear the creed at such a late age. So, you were content with being a member of the Mandalorian culture as a civilian.

You sat at a table that the elders reserved for the women who taught young ladies how to sew, heal, cook, and take care of the warriors in training. Whether it was a torn cape or a sparring injury, you were there to help. You always believed you didn’t need to be there as you already knew how to do it all, but the view made up for it. The table was set up on the outer boundaries of the sand pit they called a sparring arena. You got to see young Mandalorians train their bodies and minds by lessons taught by the elders. As many Mandalorians came and went, your eyes were always set on a specific foundling you met many years ago. You sympathized with that warrior when you first noticed his colored armor. You had a crafted bracelet in a similar color – a deep red, a maroon to be precise.

All Mandalorian armor was painted, but each general color had deeper meaning. For example, blue represented the reliability of the warrior, green represented duty, black represented justice, and grey or silver represented mourning.

Red represented the honoring of a parent or leader.

You watched as the two warriors, one in green armor and yours in the maroon, sparred while the other Mandalorians watched and rallied around their fighting brothers. After 10 minutes, the maroon pinned the green down and was declared the winner. The elders at your table clapped and you can’t help but smile and cheer along.

As the noise settles down, you ask to be excused from the table and wait for their approval. Once the oldest member examines your finished shawl, she excuses you for the day. You clean up your yarn and needles, place them and your newly knitted shawl in your basket, and thank them for the day’s lesson. You turn and notice the maroon armored figure standing with his brothers as a new pair of Mandalorians prepare for their turn at combat.

You walk over and stand next to him, basket in your left hand and proceed to place your right hand on his pauldron. He looks over at you and tilts his helmet as he acknowledges you. You mouth a simple hi and a small wave, not wanting to distract him from the scene in front of him.

“Hello, cyar’ika.”

You smile as he turns and holds your right hand in his left. “How was today’s lesson?”

You shrug, rolling your eyes and letting out a small laugh. “Oh you know, learning what I already know. The usual.”

He chuckles at your visible annoyance at the uniformed program you’re practically forced to attend. “Are you finished or are the elders letting you breathe?”

You just can’t help but always smile at every word that comes out of his mouth. “I’m very much finished for the day. Are you?”

“Yes, Paz and I were just asked to demonstrate a sparring technique. Would you like to go for a walk?”

You nod excitedly. He gives your hand a light squeeze and asks you to stay where you are. You watch him as he strides over to one of the elders watching over the training session to what you assume is asking for permission to leave. The elder simply nods and goes back to observing the trainees.

Your Mandalorian leads you to an escarpment not far from the main town – not far by speeder bike that is. You both called it our place. As far as you both knew, no one had known about the place. The ground is scattered with sand and cracks, but the pair are protected from unwanted visitors by an oddly bent acacia tree and nothing beats the view. The capital can be seen far out in the distance, seeming small and faded. You looked down from the cliff to the ground below. You took notice that the ground had small traces of grass while the trees began to dry and then to your luck, you spotted a strill dragging the corpse of a fanned rawl back to its pack. 

You step back from the edge and walk back to the tree. Your beloved unclips his cape and places it on the ground for you both to sit on – despite your countless protest about getting it dirty and tears. He proceeds to take a seat in the middle of his cape and places his hands on your waist. You take the hint and take a seat on his lap. He wraps his arms around your body and lay on him and he leans back on the thick trunk of the tree.

You quietly stay like this for what feels like hours, just holding onto each other. You two rarely get alone time anymore as his training has begun to be much more advanced. More advanced means longer training hours and longer training hours mean less time with you. Mandalore has nineteen hour days and the elders now have him train for six which means you barely get to talk to him and he barely gets to breathe. 

You change positions to lay on the ground with your head on his thighs. He starts to play with your hair, but suddenly lets the strand of hair go. He leans over to grab your hand. He begins to play with your fingers and places his palm straight onto yours just to feel how different his hands are from your own. He did always say he loved your hands – soft and caring.

He loves holding your hand. He loves caressing it. He loves playing with them. He loves how they look when in his.

When you’re in the safety of your home, he blindfolds you and  loves it when you play with his hair.

When you make love, he loves when you run your hands down his chest and on his biceps as he thrusts up into you. He loves when you grip his arms while you’re riding him and he brings you close to euphoria or when his body is over yours and your hands press down on his back to beg for him to go deeper.

He’s gone a long time without having gentle hands touch him. You were the first person he let touch his bare hands since his parents died. 

His helmet tilts over to you and you look up to him. He sits and stares at you and you unsuccessfully stifle a laugh. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner kar’ta.” He says quietly. So quietly you feel as if it wasn’t meant for your ears.

You situate yourself onto your knees and cradle the side of his helmet in one hand and hold his own hand in the other. “I love you too, Din. More than anything in the entire galaxy.”

You’ve been in a romantic relationship with Din for five years and you’ve heard those words a total of seven times. You savor every time he speaks them as it sounds like utter bliss to you.

“Ner kar’ta, I- I’d like to gift something to you, but I must know something first.”

“You can ask me anything, cyare.”

“I know I don’t tend to express my feelings and you may be thinking this is going to be a negative talk, but I promise it’s not.”

“I know it isn’t, my love. Even if it was, you’re not going anywhere.”

He chuckles at this and he nods. You know this is serious when his visor isn’t on your face.

“Mesh’la… Do you wa- Are you sure you…” he stops and clears his throat. “Cyare, do you plan on wanting to be stay? With me? I know we never talked about this, but I just thought it was time to bring it up.”

“Are you asking me if I want to stay by your side for the rest of my life, Din?”

He nods.

“Din, love, of course I want to be with you. We’ve only touched the surface. There’s so much left to do. You still haven’t given me a piece of your armor, we haven’t done a riduurok, and we haven’t raised warriors! You aren’t getting rid of me!” you joke.

He stays silent and you begin to think you may have gone too far. He opens one of his pouches on his belt. Your mind is saying he pulled out the blindfold he always carries for you to kiss you, but your heart wishes it’s something else.

Your heart wins.

He offers you a necklace. It consists of a maroon colored beskar ring clinging to a chain – his beskar. Before he can say anything, you jump on him and wrap your arms around him. He laughs and gives you a squeeze.

“I had a speech prepared, but I’d be very happy if I didn’t have to read it,” he sarcastically says. You can’t stop the tears running down your cheeks as you shake your head while you tell him he doesn’t have to. You know what he’s going to say and you know he’s going to stutter and shake. You know how much he loves you. You don’t need to hear him say it as his actions spoke volumes.

“I knew you didn’t lose your buckle to Paz! You rather lose me than your armor!”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’d rather lose my sponsorship then you.”

You playfully shove him. “Di’kut.” You grab your drink from your basket and take a swig from the cold liquid.

“Cyar’ika, w- would you like to marry me? Right now?”

You almost choke. You look at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Is it too soon?”

You shake you head. “No, no it’s been five years. The elders probably think we’re crazy.” You both share a laugh. “But, if you’re ready Din, then yes. I’d love to marry you right now.”

He stands and helps you up. He grabs the chained ring and places it around your neck. You look down and the ring falls beautifully next to the other necklace you wear, a nexu signet - your father’s clan. You reach up and bring his head down to yours as you connect your foreheads together. As Mandalorian culture states, the warrior must begin the riduurok and every phrase must be said by each to be vowed.  

Din’s hands are shaking, you can feel them. He clears his voice, but it does little to stop it from cracking.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus d-dar’tome”

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome”

“M-Mhi me’dinui an”

“Mhi me’dinui an”

“mhi ba’juri ver-“

You feel his forehead leave yours and you open your eyes. You follow his gaze and your heart sinks. Far out in the distance you see imperial ships slowly coming through the clouds. You see bright red light coming from the capital and you begin to panic. You know he has to go fight. As much as you don’t want him to, there’s no debate. 

You both run to collect everything. He stops to look at you.

“Ni ceta, ner kar’ta. I promise that I-“ you stop him and bring his forehead down again.

“It is your duty to Mandalore, Din. I know you’ll protect us and you’ll come back to me. Promise me you’ll fight with everything in you. I can’t lose you too.”

“I promise.”

With that you pack the speeder and ride back into town, although as the war begins, you wished you had just taken Din away and ran.

Blaster shot after blaster shot. Dead body after another. The cries of children and the screaming of mothers trying to find their babies.

You hear a Mandalorian usher women and children into life-ships, each with two Mandalorians escorts. You get rushed closer and closer to one when you catch Din in the corner of your eye.

You run to him as you hear your name being called out by the other women. Din sees you and tackles you down. He pins you against a wall yelling at you to get into a ship and go. You put your hands on each side of his helmet. Both of you are crying wishing this was only a nightmare. 

“Din, please promise me you’ll find me. Promise me you’ll make it out of here and come back to me. I can’t live without you. Please promise me.”

His visor is trained on you as you hold onto each other tighter than ever. “I promise I’ll find you and when I do, we’ll properly marry and I’ll take you far away from here so we can start our own clan. Ner kar’ta, I promise you this with my entire being.”

A promise sealed with a keldabe kiss. He runs with you towards a ship. You both ask escorts where the ship is going. No one knows. You try running out of the ship, but Din only pushes you back in. You hear him tell you how much he loves you before he jumps off the ship right when the ramp starts to move. You sob as the ramp closes until the view of your maroon-clad love is completely gone.

Little did you know that the war zone you had just witnessed was the fall of Mandalore and the last time you’d see the love of your life for many years to come.

update (1.1.21): Part two to Maroon has been posted - Saguine

 mando’a translations:

riduur = spouse, husband, wife, partner

cyar’ika = darling, sweetheart

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum = I love you

ner kar’ta = my heart

mesh’la = beautiful

riduurok = love bond, specifically between spouses - marriage agreement

cyare = beloved

di’kut = idiot

Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde. = We are one whether we are together or apart, we will share everything and we will raise our children as warriors.

ni ceta = i’m sorry 

[beyond-the-mirror]

Music of the Night (V x Reader)

Chapter 7 is finally here! As I have mentioned a couple posts ago I am going to focus solely on this story for the time being. I will try my best to update at least once per week so stay tuned.

Warnings: A little angst in a few parts.

Tagging: @thedyingmoon​ @minteyeddemon​ @vampiregirl1797​

If you wish to be tagged in this story let me know in the comments.

………………….

Chapter 7: Nightingale in the Cage

“So Bishop, would you mind explaining to us the reason you decided to become a patron for the Opera house?”

“Oh not at all.” Sanctus took a deep breath before speaking again. “As you may have heard in the local news, an estranged brother of mine passed away some time ago, may his soul rest in peace. Days later I received a visit from his lawyer, apparently he had accumulated quite the fortune and his testament determined that I would be the sole heir of all his possessions and shares.” The Bishop made a brief pause, the death of his brother still weighing down his heart. “I actually have no need for such a large sum of money, which is why I only kept a modest enough amount for me and decided to donate the rest in favor of the conservation of the arts.”

“A rather noble cause indeed Bishop, our sincerest apologies for your loss.” Monsieur Andre added.

“Thank you for your condolences. All my life I’ve considered myself to be an admirer of the fine arts. There’s nothing I wouldn’t love more than to finance Fortuna’s famous Opera House and support the careers of its many skilled artists.”

“And we shall be forever grateful for your patronage bishop.” Monsieur Firmin mentioned before lifting his champagne glass. “Let’s have a toast for the future of Fortuna’s Opera House.”

“For the future of this new society.” Raoul finished before the men raised their glasses together in glee. The vicomte, however, seemed to have a sense of sadness in his eyes that he hid all too well from everybody. How he wished to spend more time with you, but didn’t find you at the party.

Maybe you were too exhausted to attend and went home instead? Whatever it was, he wished you were okay.

………………….

‘The newest play from Fortuna’s Theatre Company, Hannibal, has been critically acclaimed by specialized press, scoring an impressive average of 4.6 out of 5 stars’

‘The exquisite acting and choreography are to be praised. However, its most prominent figure is the miraculous voice of the main singer, who has replaced iconic soprano Carlotta Guidicelli as the protagonist.’

‘Step down Carlotta! A new queen has arrived and the spotlight is all hers!’

‘In a shocking turn of events, Signora Carlotta Guidicelli, believed to be the company's successor to legendary soprano Kyrie Eleison, has been overshadowed by a new rising talent. A humble fortunian songstress by the name of (Y/N) (Y/L/N).’

‘(Y/N) (Y/L/N). The break-through songstress that has captivated the audience’s hearts. Is this the birth of a brand new star?’

Reviews, articles and blog posts about the company’s new soprano spread around the internet like wildfire, every single one focusing on the same subject: The mysterious soprano that took Fortuna by surprise and dethroned 'La Carlota’ herself.

The girl had become the theatre’s own Venus and Aphrodite, a muse that inspired all the souls touched by her melodious voice. A nightingale turned human, an angel descended to Earth.

But as her performances continued and her fame grew, a few observant enough would take notice of certain… details regarding her.

The truth behind this? A sinister shadow was tormenting the theatre’s beloved angel, one that threatened to consume not only her, but everything around.

………………….

“I refuse to accept this!” Carlotta stomped her heel on the marbled floor of her lavish bedroom, taking a sip from the almost full glass of wine in her hand.

Ever since that fiasco when she stormed out of the theatre during the rehearsals for ‘Hannibal’, the soprano’s life seemingly started turning for the worse, all because of that girl that once dared to collide with her during rehearsal. She had insisted the dancer had done so on purpose, envious of her great talent.

And now it turns out that dancer is the same one that took her role as the main protagonist! Carlotta felt offended by such a decision, she was a professional while that girl was just a simple amateur

Still, she had to admit this (Y/N) had a gifted voice. What she could not explain is how she managed to perfect her skill to such a high level if she claimed to be an inexperienced singer? As talented as one could be, it takes years of work and practice to master one’s craft, the only explanation she could come up with was that the girl had to have a special tutor, and an exceptional one at that.

But who?

Realizing her glass was already empty, Carlotta hurried to refill it again. She had believed that with Kyrie gone to Broadway, she now had the stage clear for herself to finally shine above everyone else, after all, the only voice above Signora Carlotta could only be that of Fortuna’s legendary songstress herself.

Such hopes were now broken. She had a new competitor, one that was already stealing the spotlights.

As she turned to the broadcast of the company’s most recent play, she huffed when the camera focused on the new main singer. The audience had fallen right into her trap, and now she had them all wrapped around her lithe finger.

“I don’t know what they see in her, she’s nothing special and she’s not that pretty. Especially with those dark circles under her eyes, does she even sleep? Careful girl, you are already losing your youth.” Carlotta snorted before downing her glass of wine.

………………….

“Vicomte Raoul! Bishop Sanctus! We weren’t quite expecting your visit to our Opera House. What can we do for you, gentlemen?”

Messieurs Andre and Firmin almost tripped over their own feet as they hurried to attend the Opera House’s important benefactors. Raoul managed to hide his laughter at their eagerness, while Sanctus simply offered the two a gentle smile.

“Do not worry for us, messieurs. This fine theatre holds so many precious memories of my youth, so I thought it appropriate to drop by and watch the rehearsals take place if you don’t mind us.”

“Oh, not at all Bishop! This way please.”

As the four men approached the hall, a melodious voice resonated through the walls.

“Ah! You are in luck. Our lead singer seems to be on stage right now practicing one of her numbers.” Firmin noted just as he opened the door to the main hall.

Madame Trish was supervising as usual, you stood at the stage performing an aria while Monsieur Reyer directed your voice through the song’s notes. As he took a seat near the stage next to Sanctus, Raoul was mesmerized by your singing figure, the passion and dedication you imprinted on your work palpable and strong enough to touch the hearts of others.

“An utter beauty, isn’t she?” The elder’s voice snapped him out of his trance. As he turned to face Sanctus, he noticed the soft smile and knowing look in his eyes. He gulped, were his feelings that obvious? Then again, Sanctus has seen and learned a lot during the many years of his long life, wisdom comes with age after all.

“Ah! Young love! Perhaps the purest and most innocent of them all.” The bishop gave a hearty chuckle. “Miss (Y/N) is definitely special. Her voice alone holds so much power, enough to make the entire audience bow to her, and yet she still remains humble and authentic.”

Raoul turned his attention back to the stage where you were now conversing with Trish and Reyer about your routine during the number. The vicomte could see what Sanctus meant, you weren’t arrogant or prideful like Carlotta, but rather attentive and open to the feedback and mentoring offered to you.

A smile grazed his lips. He had just met you and already you were taking over his heart and mind.

Still as he observed you going through the song one more time, there was something off that caught his eye. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. The heave of your chest whenever you ended a verse, the slight trembles of your feet whenever they moved along the lines marked on the stage by Trish. 

You looked… tired? Exhausted, perhaps? No... more like detached.

But you continued the rehearsal with no trouble. Maybe your sudden growing popularity was already taking its toll on you, as well as all the performances you had to do at the theatre. For anyone without experience, such exhaustion is understandable.

In the seat next to him, Bishop Sanctus was also studying you. However, his expression seemed more preoccupied than that of the vicomte. He too had noticed some kind of dark aura looming around you, and he pondered what this could mean for the Opera House’s future, and for his plans too.

………………….

petite.aerette  I can’t believe I finally got to watch #Hannibal. So happy to know the Opera House is on the rise once again. #FortunaOperaHouse #theatre #musical

alya_hyacinth  You saw it live? Girl, I’m jealous!

dramaqueen101  Aaah I was there too! I wish you told me you were going, we could have gone together and have our seats next to each other.

petite.aerette  Sorry! Mom surprised me with our tickets that same morning. Did you see that new singer everyone is talking about? She is awesome! I already love her voice and acting!

dramaqueen101  I know right?! In fact I caught a glimpse of her after the play when she retired to her dressing room. I wanted to go talk to her but it was too crowded and she seemed to be in a rush. However I noticed she looked a bit tired? As if she hadn’t been getting enough sleep.

………………….

Free time had become a luxury for Nico. There was always something to fix, something to supervise, something to check. Whatever breaks she would get, she welcomed them with open arms and relaxed as much as she could before it was back to work again.

It was in one of these breaks when she ran into you, what better way to enjoy some free time than with a dear friend?

But as she approached your figure, Nico took notice of your appearance. Your skin was now as pale as a ghost, your eyes were heavy with sleepiness and dark circles framing them. You looked as if you were about to collapse at any given moment.

“Hey, you alright sugarcube?” Nico’s hands went to your arms by instinct, just in case you were feeling sick and you needed to be rushed to the infirmary. But with a small smile, you tried to ease her worries.

“Couldn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all.”

“Uh huh…” Nico was many things, highly perceptive was one of those. Many have found out the hard way that she was not an easy one to fool. Of course, it was no surprise that she could see right through your words. “Come. Let’s get you some warm tea.”

Stern and maybe a bit harsh, but caring when the situation called for it. That was Nicoletta Goldstein for you. One of the most surprising things about her is that she made the best tea in the world according to the people working at the theatre. 

“This should ease you a bit, honey. Careful, it’s still hot.” As she handed you the small cup, she looked at you with worry in her eyes but didn’t say anything. Instead she waited for you to open up and tell her what was wrong.

You could already picture the almost dead look you must have had. With slightly shaky hands you held onto the porcelain cup, raising it to your lips and gently blowing the steam to cool it down a bit. As a warm earthy flavor filled your taste buds, your body could finally ease up and relax even if just for a little while, granting you a moment of much needed peace.

Still, you didn’t find it in yourself to tell her.

Luckily for you, Nico knew better than to keep insisting. She figured that whatever was worrying you, you weren’t ready to talk about it yet. Nonetheless, she stayed right by your side in a comfortable silence with a cup of tea of her own.

It was a nice and peaceful moment, at least until she was called to check on one of the moving stage props.

And so she excused herself, but not before reminding you that you could always count on her for anything.

What Nico didn’t know, however, was the reason for your silence.

You didn’t tell her because something was forcing you to. 

………………….

Days became weeks. Weeks became months. And soon enough, time itself began to blur.

Ever since that night at his sanctuary, everything felt… off.

You had woken up in your bed, feeling dazed and lightheaded, perhaps the effects of the turmoil from the previous night.

V. The first thing on your mind as soon as you recovered your consciousness was him.

You wanted, no, needed to find him and get some answers. Why did he disappear so many years ago? Why was he hiding his true identity from you?

… What were those black markings scarring his face?

There was just one problem, you didn’t know where exactly was his sanctuary located. The secret passage behind the mirror in your dressing room came to mind, but in order to navigate the underground canals you needed a boat, not to mention that it was easy to get lost in there. Maybe you could ask the authorities for help, but how could you explain your story and make them believe you?

You made your decision on the way to the Opera House. You would start by telling Nico for the moment, you trusted her enough and she often gave the best advice on any matter.

But the moment you spotted her in the distance and tried to approach her, something strange happened.

An unseen force lodged itself in your chest, holding your voice and your heart in a vice grip that burned through your entire body. All the air in your lungs escaped you, and the feeling of daze you felt that morning returned in full force. You tried to scream, call for help, but no sound would come out of your lips. All words died as soon as they left your vocal chords.

You watched Nico leaving after someone required her assistance, and as soon as she disappeared from your line of sight, the pain stopped. As sudden as it had arrived.

You remained frozen in your place, goosebumps raised on your flesh. The moment some sensation came back to your legs, you ran away.

The day continued with relative normalcy, but your mind remained perturbed. And hours later, just as all the scheduled performances had ended for the day, you headed for your dressing room.

Once inside, the mirror opened, and everything went black.

When you opened your eyes, it was already morning the next day. Once again you woke in your bed, feeling as dazed and lightheaded as the day before. But the feeling didn’t go away, and with everyday that passed, it only became worse.

Strangely enough, your performances never faltered once despite the unknown illness weighing you down, almost as if you were doing everything automatically, like a machine following its program. You were thankful for this apparent ability to keep it together, but soon you started feeling detached. It reached a point when you could no longer feel your own body, or the melodic notes leaving your lips. You were no longer living, but rather watching your life unfold itself without any input of your own.

Many times you made an attempt to tell someone, anyone, about this; but you found that every single time you were about to do so, that terrible pain would return until you desisted. Soon, you were conditioned to stay quiet.

One day Nico began noticing your predicament, but by then that obscure force had you under its control already. She was right there, concerned and willing to help. And yet you didn’t dare to speak up.

Panic often filled your mind, hopelessness flooded your soul. You prayed and prayed for this nightmare to stop.

After another successful performance, the last one for the day, you found yourself inside the main dressing room as usual.

And as usual, the mirror opened, letting out the hidden darkness that haunted the Opera House behind everyone’s backs.

………………….

Poor unfortunate Joseph Buquet. 

Ever since that incident with the falling curtain, Nico had him double checking pretty much everything. Every rope, pulley and mechanism had to be meticulously examined in order to prevent another incident like that from happening again. Now he understood why it was such an important and critical matter, the least he wanted was for anybody to be harmed due to a malfunction after all, but his own anxiety over making a mistake and causing another accident was already getting him. The poor man would triple- no, cuadruple check every single detail in an almost paranoid way. Not a single nook or cranny would be left unattended by this dedicated worker.

So it was no surprise that today was especially bad for the nervous Mr. Buquet, for his trusty utility belt had been misplaced, making him search the whole building for his precious tools.

Only after finding his utility belt did Buquet allow himself to feel relieved, a heavy burden lifting off his tired shoulders. He was making his way back to the fly floor when the sound of hurried steps nearby reached his ears, as he turned at a corner he caught a glimpse of you closing the door to your dressing room shut. Noticing the way you entered the room in such a haste, he worried something might have happened to you. Maybe you were feeling sick and needed to rest? These days you had been looking paler than usual, and the man had to admit that seeing you in your current lamentable state tugged at his heartstrings.

Walking to your door, Buquet politely knocked at the wooden surface “Miss (Y/N), is everything alright?” But no answer came back.

He knocked again, this time a bit louder. “Miss (Y/N), are you there?” Again, no answer.

Now he was getting genuinely concerned. He even pressed his ear to the door in an attempt to hear whatever was happening inside, but he found only silence.

“Miss (Y/N) I’m opening the door right now!” Buquet immediately took hold of the knob and slowly cracked it open, merely peeking inside just in case you needed some privacy after all.

The sight that greeted him sent chills to his very bones.

A tall shadowy figure towered at the back of the room, its arms wrapped around your unconscious body in a seemingly possessive manner. Like a ghost, it moved towards the mirror and disappeared with you in its arms.

Buquet stood frozen as his mind tried to process what just happened before him.

He had heard the stories, rumors about an entity that haunted the Opera House. Some workers would mention seeing shadows through the corners of their eyes, others would claim that low growling noises could be heard at the hallways when they were empty enough, and a few would tell how they found strange iridescent blue feathers in the most bizarre locations inside the premises.

His mind pictured the heavy curtain that mysteriously fell on Carlotta. Then, the strange Box Four that always remained unoccupied despite the concierge’s claims about hearing a voice coming from inside.

They called it different names. A poltergeist, a monster, a demon… a Phantom…

But this time they hadn’t moved a prop or taken a simple object with them.

This time, they had taken a person.

………………….

Locked inside one of the restrooms designated for the staff, Mr. Buquet did his best to calm himself down. He had just witnessed the kidnapping of a promising young woman by the hands of an… an entity.

His hands flew to his hair in panic. What could he do? Nobody would believe a phantom had spirited away the company’s Prima Donna!

He… he had to have been hallucinating! Yes, that had to be it. For years the staff has accused the Phantom for all the minor inconveniences that often sabotaged rehearsals and productions, but this was an entirely different story, a songstress was just kidnapped for Lord Sparda’s sake! Urban legends or not, the supposed Phantom had never gone to these extremes before.

Splashing some cold water on his tired face one last time, Buquet finally exited the restroom and made his way back home, all the while reassuring himself that what he had witnessed couldn’t have been real.

‘Tomorrow Miss (Y/N) is gonna come to work as always. Nothing bad happened to her. Right now she is at home, resting on her bed.’ He would repeat himself over and over.

And the next day, Buquet got his much needed relief when he saw you rehearsing at the stage as if nothing had transcurred the night before. He almost let out an euphoric laugh when he saw you safe and sound and that he had been anxious for nothing.

Concluding that the constant burnout was the cause of his hallucinations, Mr. Buquet requested for a few days off to recover, a request that Monsieur Andre approved without thinking twice. 

Everything was going to be okay… or so thought Joseph Buquet.

Castings for a new production called ‘Il Muto’ were about to start in a few weeks, and everyone was about to witness how a single wrong decision could unleash the most gruesome of horrors.

[penguiduck]

Writing Fight Scenes

I’ve had a lot of readers mention that they don’t feel comfortable with fight scenes.  Well, that’s understandable. It’s challenging writing about experiences you’ve never had.  But with some perspective and practice, you can most certainly work toward writing those fast-paced, heart-pounding scenes with ease.

To give you some background, I practiced competitive martial arts for six years.  I competed in tournaments and trained hard to perform well in the ring. It was a contact sport, and even if I wasn’t sparring, training often left me with bruises, usually of the physical nature, sometimes of the emotional persuasion.

This experience gave me a lot of perspective when it comes to writing fight scenes.

Whenever I step into the ring, I have a flexible strategy in mind that combines what I know about myself, my opponent, and what I’m going to learn about them in the next two minutes.  I’d like to share some of these thoughts and perspectives with you, and how your character may think before and during a match of their own. Of course, my fighting experience is limited to a contact sport.  Your story may very well be far more violent with higher stakes, but strategies may be of similar foundation. Once you take a fight into deeper consideration, aside from the depiction of two fighters merely exchanging blows, you can begin to enrich your writing experience.

I’m including examples from Yu Yu Hakusho because that’s the fandom I write the most for, and as you know, there’s a lot of fighting involved!  But remember — anime and writing are two completely different mediums. There's no one narrating everything that our beloved characters are doing on screen. You just see it. That is why you, as a writer, must paint those scenes through words for your readers.

Nevertheless, this advice really stands for any sort of writing, so do with this information what you will.

A well-written fight scene is never about just trading blows.  There are other conflicts at play, whether between the fighters or even in the heads of your protagonists.

Allow me to elaborate:

1. Who is your protagonist?

Whenever I am preparing for a sparring match, the first thing I worry about is me. I must be self-aware. 

I think about my own fitness.  How am I doing? Do I have any existing injuries or ailments?  How is my weight? My body type? What are my strengths and weaknesses?  What do I have in my toolbox? What techniques do I know? What techniques am I most versed and confident in?  

I also think about my overall wellness. Have I been eating well?  Drinking water? Sleeping? How is my emotional state of mind? What are the stakes?

Is my uniform clean and pressed?  What about my equipment? Headgear?  Mouth guard? Shin guard? Did I replace that torn lace?

I recommend using these questions to bring your character’s own reflection to the forefront in whatever way makes most sense for them.  How is your character’s fitness? Is she in good fighting condition? Has she been injured previously? What has happened since the last fight that might impact her state of mind? 

It’s possible that she’s recovering from an illness or injury.  Perhaps her mentor died a gruesome death. Maybe she’s frustrated because she lost use of her right hand, temporarily or permanently, and has had to compensate with her non-dominant hand.  Or perhaps she’s lost the will to fight, having experienced something traumatic.

Hiei had to constantly think about his own state of health throughout the Dark Tournament after his fight with Zeru.  His arm had been sacrificed to his Dragon of the Darkness Flame, rendered useless, and he was in terrible pain. He never let it impact him, of course, being the stoic warrior he is.  His personality allows for little inner dialogue to be shared with the audience, but as a fighter, he was most certainly considering what options he had with his handicap. And, as a writer, perhaps you would like to elaborate on his thoughts for your readers.

What has your character been practicing lately?  Is her weapon of choice the same? Has it been upgraded?  Has she been training with a different weapon or technique?  Is she perhaps nervous about using something new?

Maybe she just repaired her sword, and she’s unsure if it’s as strong as it was before.  Perhaps she’s been studying a new technique, and she knows she’ll need to use it in this battle.  

Remember when Kuwabara first introduced his spirit sword in Maze Castle?  He was so proud of himself, and that whole battle was an introduction to his newfound technique, how he manipulated his sword, and how he was able to harness his spirit energy.  It’s far more interesting to see this development and exploration than to just watch him stab at Byakko a dozen times.

My point is that while your character probably should keep her emotions out of the ring, she may not be able to.  There are so many things that could be on her mind, plaguing her thoughts, especially if there’s a lot riding on this battle.  I think it’s really important to not only acknowledge the physical part of fighting but the emotional toll it can take a fighter, too.

Think about the fight between Yusuke and Toguro.  Toguro had just killed Genkai, and Yusuke took that very personally.  This was not a simple battle of strength or wits. This was a battle of emotions, and it wasn’t until Yusuke was able to master his feelings and reach beyond that “six foot wall of crap” as Genkai so affectionately calls it that he was able to finally defeat Toguro.

And the catharsis that came from defeating Toguro? It was made all the more powerful because Yusuke went through that emotional journey. It wasnʼt just a fight — it was a calling, a purpose, and a lesson.  It was painful and potent, and it made him realize just how much these experiences shaped him as a person.

2. Who is the opponent? 

Before I participate in a tournament, I do my research.  Who is likely to be competing? Who is in my weight class?  What do I know about these competitors? If I don’t have answers, I would find them.  I’d chat with my instructor, my fellow martial artists. Has anyone else from my school fought these people before?  What were they like? Are there videos online of their performance?  

I find as much information as possible. I make calls, send texts, take people out to lunch, scour the internet for information.  Even if your character lives in a less technologically dependent world, I would imagine that he might talk with friends, look through old records, listen to gossip and hearsay.  He might watch battles leading up to his own fight in an effort to learn more.

And if this pre-work isn’t possible, that’s okay.  Fights in your story may be entirely unpredictable, but your character can also learn things about his opponent during the match.  

When I step into the ring and ready myself to compete, one of the first things I want to find out is on which side my opponent is dominant.  In other words, are they right-handed? Or left-handed? Right-footed? Or left-footed? Maybe they only focus on one side during training (which is silly, but that’s another conversation).  But there could be an underlying reason why as well. Perhaps they injured themselves in the previous round or maybe they just don’t like exposing one particular side of their body for whatever reason.

This information is critical because this tells me what I need to watch out for, which side of my own body I should be guarding, how I may penetrate my opponent’s defenses.  How can I catch them when they least suspect it? Where can I knock them off balance? My instructor always told me to watch the shoulders — shoulders move before the rest of the body.  You can tell what your opponent is about to do by watching their shoulders.

Your character may wish to discover the same thing.  Maybe his opponent uses a two-handed sword and is very clearly right-handed.  This may give him some information on where his blind spot is — or maybe he just needs to disable his opponent’s right arm.  The possibilities are endless, and understanding his opponent will give him leverage, offering him many options.

Understanding an opponent’s technique is also important.  In martial arts, practitioners often favor a strategy or skill.  This seems obvious, but it’s vital that you understand what it is — only then you can combat it.  

Consider Kurama’s matches with Gama and Toya during the events of the Dark Tournament.  The English dub did a wonderful job voicing Kurama’s inner conflict during these fights, struggling with first his inability to move and then his imprisoned spirit energy — if you were to put these scenes into writing, explaining his thought process would be fascinating.  How does Kurama overcome these obstacles? He seeks to understand his opponents before he defeats them, which, unfortunately, also means he risks injury to himself until then.

Your character’s thoughts about the fight, interpreting for your audience what he feels he might need to do to secure victory, is just as important as detailing the fight itself.

3. What about the writing?

The writing will come once you begin to dissect your characters and their motivations for fighting.  Your characters aren’t one-dimensional, or, at least, they shouldn’t be!  

Your fight scenes shouldn’t be, either.  It’s not about two fighters trading blows. It’s about an artfully curated dance.  Two opponents are engaged in a craft that they both know well, and whether they’re fighting to win a tournament or for their very lives, they have reasons and complex thought processes that should make their fight interesting.  

There are two players here, and unless the fight is grossly one-sided, they’re both thinking and acting independently of one another.  My advice is to thread their actions and consequences together — weave the fight scene as if it’s a stream of conscious thought, separated into paragraphs, each with a shift in perspective, for clarity.  

Instead of writing:

Yusuke charged at Kuwabara and punched him in the face.  Kuwabara punched him in the mouth. Yusuke then kicked him in the stomach.

Try this:

Yusuke had little patience for Kuwabara’s bad jokes, and he rushed toward him, landing a blow square in the side of his head.

Kuwabara flew backward with a grunt, stabilizing himself before launching himself at Yusuke, returning the favor.  His fist collided with Yusuke’s jaw, a blow hard enough to knock the teeth out of any regular human.

Yusuke expected him to retaliate, and although he was nearly knocked off balance, he swung his leg around, making full contact with Kuwabara’s stomach.

You may also find it useful to deviate from the fighting itself.  You can speak to a character’s inner dialogue or thoughts, whether about the fight or something else.  You may choose to have them begin a brief conversation. Or you may describe what other characters are feeling about the fight as onlookers.

There are many ways to make these fight scenes seamless and interesting — take some time to explore your options!

Just a few more general tips that might help:

If you’re going to use a thesaurus, be mindful about it. I use a thesaurus when I write because I suffer all day, every day from tip-the-tongue syndrome.  But words, even if they generally fit the same definition, can have vastly different connotations, so before selecting a word from the thesaurus, do some digging.  Look at the exact definition and perhaps Google some common usage. Punch, slap, and stroke do not mean the same thing, even if a thesaurus might say otherwise.

Read your writing out loud.  If you’re unsure, this is the best way to understand your cadence, the flow of the battle.  Use your best Morgan Freeman or Jorge the Ogre voice.

Consider a beta reader.  Sometimes having a second opinion is immensely helpful.

Remember that there are no strict writing rules.  You write whatever your heart desires in whatever manner your heart desires.  Experiment and explore with different styles and techniques to find whatever works for you.

I hope you find this information useful!  Please feel free to suggestion additional blog posts you would like to see from me in the future.  ^_^  Of course, please reblog this if you found it helpful!

Pictures are, of course, not mine.  They are shots from the anime or other official derivatives.

[webslinger-holland]

The Royal Family | Chapter Three

Summary: When two royal family’s decide to conjoin their countries, they arrange a marriage between their eldest children. Once the two royals meet, it takes a lot of convincing before they are ready to begin their reign together...

Warning: sexual tension, flirting, mentions of injury

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Type: The Royal Family Series

MASTERLIST

The light streaks through the boughs in both brilliant and shadowy beams. In the summertime they were white gold, illuminating the greens into virescent riots; yet the gift of those warm days has passed for the season. On the wintry days, the togs cast those same beams of light into sepia tones, and the woodland becomes the most beautiful of photographs. The trunks of fallen trees bare icicles longer than my hand, no two of them the same- more enchanting than any work of man.

Every twig and blade of grass grows winter "leaves" of ice crystals, frost thicker than the fleece in gloves. And never is the woodland silent, though it is quieter than any village street for sure. There are the birds above, calling, pecking for grubs. There is the movement of mammals, mostly small, sometimes not. There is the water that flows quietly until it meets the sharp rocky scree slopes and forms the raging waterfalls. The winter season was upon them.

The young princess was standing near her bedroom window, gazing at the beautiful landscape. Her eyes followed the small snowflakes littering the morning sky. The princess's eyes softened upon watching the snowfall in the early morning breeze. It was calming, almost relaxing.

"Your Highness," Elsie called behind her. The princess had turned her head to look over the small stretch of her shoulder, staring directly at the young servant standing in her presence. The young servant was holding a neatly wrapped present in her hands. She had been told to deliver it to the princess’s bedchambers.

“Yes?” Princess Y/N spoke.

"This came for you," Elsie claimed. The young servant had carefully placed the present on a nearby table. She took a step back. She bowed her head in respect.

The princess had furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. She was quick to walk towards the nearby table. She dropped her gaze to stare down at the neatly wrapped present. She could see a small note attached to the side of the package. She squinted her eyes to read the fine print of her own name.

“Who sent this?" Princess Y/N wondered.

"P-Prince Thomas," the servant said, stumbling over her words. "Says he nearly searched all of England trying to find it. It's quite rare to find...this time of year," the servant further explained.

"Well, you send my regards to Prince Thomas. Would you do that for me?" the princess of the east questioned. The servant nodded her head before taking a step back, curtsying for the princess. The servant turned around and walked towards the door, preparing to leave.

The princess of the east had turned her attention back towards the large present in front of her. She had taken the top off the present.. She set it to the side. Then she leaned forward to look into the nearly hollow box. Her eyes widened in realization.

Carefully, the princess slipped her hands into the contents of the box. She took hold of the gift. She pulled the small gift out of the box. She stared at the beautiful creation in utter disbelief. In her hands was a crown made of mostly white roses, which were her favorite flower (changed that). She could feel a small smile growing at the corners of her lips.

The princess looked at the crown of white roses, marveling over the natural beauty. She quickly turned around and looked at herself in the mirror. She lifted her hands, placing the small crown on her head. She had only wondered if he had crafted this himself.

Without hesitation, the princess of the east had turned to walk back toward the present on the table. She grabbed the small note attached to the present. She brought the note closer to her face, flipping the note over to read the back of it. It read:

the smallest things can warm the heart

The princess's soft pink lips curved into a smile. She had strode towards her vanity, sticking the small note into the wedge between the white polished wood and the shiny mirror. She smiled to herself again. What a thoughtful gift...

The northern prince was currently laying on the back, staring up at the ceiling of his quarters. His younger brother (Sam) was sitting in a nearby chair, reading over a letter that his mother had sent to him that morning. His other brother (Harry) was standing near the fireplace, looking into the mirror that hung above the mantlepiece.

"Your mother is asking about you, Thomas," King Dominic said. The elderly man was sitting at his writing desk, reading over the last letter from his beloved wife. He turned his head and looked at the letter again, reading over her fine message. "She is asking about this girl of yours,” King Dominic claimed.

"She is not my girt...not yet," Thomas mumbled quietly to himself.

"Tell me, brother," Harry said. He found himself spinning around on the heels of his feet to face his brother. He folded his arms across his chest. "When are you going to start calling on her? It's been nearly six months since we arrived. She is of age now. It's not deemed inappropriate or forbidden. When will you start courting her?" Harry wondered.

Hesitantly, Thomas turned his head and looked at his younger brother. He breathed a deep sigh and shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "I am calling on her," Thomas said in a low voice.

"What?" King Dominic said. He had completely disregarded the letter in his hands now. His eyes widened in surprise. The other princes were slightly taken back. The two of them leaned forward in anticipation, wondering how their brother could pull off such a thing.  

"What? How are you calling on her?" Prince Harry asked. He took one single step forward in his place. His arms were still folded across his chest. He seemed to only narrow his eyes at his brother like he was trying to challenge his words.

"I sent her flowers and...a note," Thomas said quietly. He had shifted into a sitting position on the couch. His legs swung over the side of the couch and placed his forearms on his knees, leaning forward in his place. He looked down at his hands, twiddling with his fingers nervously.

"You sent her flowers?" Prince Sam repeated. He was trying to ponder and process his older brother’s words, playing them over in his mind to find any flaws. “And a note?” Prince Sam also added.

"Y-Yes, I sent her white roses. There are her favorite flower. She told me months ago that her mother used to braid them into her hair. They remind the princess of her mother. I-I thought she might like to have some. So I sent them," the prince said, shrugging his shoulders in defeat .

"Where on earth did you find wild roses in the month of December?" Prince Harry wondered. His lips tugged into a devilish grin. He was just teasing his older brother. He could see the evident blush on his brother’s face.

"It was an appealing thought. I am sure she greatly appreciated your kind gift," King Dominic claimed. He nodding his head in acceptance. "Though, I am afraid that is not considered calling on someone,” King Dominic concluded.

"It's not?" Prince Thomas wondered.

"No," King Dominic said. He shook his head at him. He was quick to stand to his feet so that he could approach his oldest son. He had lifted his hand to place it on his son’s shoulder. "Courting is not simply about sending flowers to your significant other," King Dominic explained.

"Then...then what is it?" Prince Thomas questioned. He had turned his head to look at his father for an explanation. He watched his dear father sink into the seat right beside him on the couch. He was trying to collect his thoughts on the matter.

“Courting...courting is about intentionally bridling a foundation for marriage. It is a period of agreement entered between two people in love for them to be able to know each other between. It is a period of clarification that both participants are read and suited for a life-long companionship,” King Dominic further explained.

The young prince had taken those words to heart. He nodded his head understandingly. He was heavily relying on his father for assistance and guidance. He wanted to do things the right way.

"It's clarity. You shouldn't make a permeant decision for your temporary emotion. It a time for both of you to hopefully realize that you two we made for each other," King Dominic added.

The prince had turned his head to look down at his hands. He forced himself to swallow the heavy lump lingering at the back of his throat. He was slowly nodding his head in confirmation. The king had not taken his hand away from his son’s shoulder, keeping a firm grip on it. He did not hesitate to look down at his dear son with the softest and kindest smile on his face. He spoke his name softly.

"It is your destiny to marry her,” King Dominic concluded. The young prince had turned his head to look down at his hands again. His shoulders had slumped down at his sides. He shook his head. He had denied his father's words.

"I am not so sure she agrees to that," Prince Thomas mumbled to himself. He had this unsettling feeling down in the pit of his stomach. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek. He was thinking to himself.

“It may take some time," King Dominic agreed with him. He had nodded his head understandingly. He had dipped his head down to get a better view of his son. He could see the evident look of conflict in his son’s eyes. 

"But father," Prince Thomas begun. "I have never called on a woman before. I haven't even had my first kiss yet. I cannot woo her or make any romantic gestures. I-I don't know how to act around her. How can you expect me to start courting when I have no experience at all?" Prince Thomas explained.

"You do not need experience to love someone," King Dominic said with a simple shake of the head.   

The northern prince had turned his head to look at his father, tilting his head to the side in bewilderment. He repeated those words in his head. He couldn’t seem to say anything in response. Instead, Prince Thomas had leaned forward and listened intently to his father's wise words. He was most eager to hear more.

"When you kiss her, take your time. There is no place you'd rather be. You should kiss, but not like you're waiting for something else to happen like your hands going beneath her skirt or tangled in her corset strings. Nothing like that," the northern king said, waving his hand in the air.

The other brothers had been quick to direct their attention to the conversation. The two of them were looking at their father with the same spark of curiosity. The princes’ eyes were practically sparkling, listening intently to their father's love written poetry. They were making mental notes in their head.

"You ought to kiss her with a curious childish delight. You should laugh into her mouth, inhale her sighs, and swallow her moans. You should kiss her with her face in your hands or your hands in her hair. You need to put her closer by the waist, embrace her, hold her,” King Dominic continued.

At the given moment, Prince Thomas was too caught up in his father’s beautiful description. He had dropped his chin into the cup of his hand. He was staring directly at his father with this look of childish curiosity on his face. He had audibly sighed at his fine words.

"Take your time with her, boy. Treat her like the princess she is. You need to love her, ravish her. You should kiss her like the first and last piece of chocolate you're ever going to taste. You should savor her and savor the moment shared between the two of you,” King Dominic claimed.

Slowly, the King of the North had shifted his hand from his son’s shoulder to his backside. He patted his back once or twice. He found himself leaning forward in his place to make some final remarks.

“Kiss her..until she forgets how to count. Kiss her silent. Kiss her passionately. Kiss her lovingly. Come away, ask her a question —any question in the world— and I can guarantee you...she will say your name in answer,” King Dominic believed.

The young prince's lips curved into a soft smile. He was quick to turn his head away from his father. He had tried to hide the evident blush flooding his cheeks at the moment. He silently laughed to himself. 

“You do not need experience to love someone. You should already know —in your heart— that she is the one for you. You do not need consultation. You do not need a previous failed experience. You should already know that she is the one. You should already know that you love her,” King Dominic concluded.

With great hesitation, Prince Thomas had dropped his gaze to stare down at his hands lingering in the contents of his lap. He nodded his head in confirmation. He had forced himself to swallow the nervous lump at the back of his throat. He was fiddling with his fingers in a nervous manner.

"Now the question is..." King Dominic said. He had shifted closer to his oldest son. He had turned his head to look down at his son’s face with a small hint of curiosity in his eyes. He spoke: "Do you love her?"

The young prince lifted his head and looked at his dear father sitting beside him. He didn’t even that there were fresh tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He had blinked once to force the tears down his cheeks. He pondered his thoughts for a brief moment. He nodded his head in answer to his father's question.

"Yes," Thomas breathed. "I love her."

It was an odd time of the year. The white snow would graciously fall down from the heavens, but the snow didn’t like to stay on the earth for very long. The snow would easily melt away once the sun had risen over the line of the horizon. The temperature was still low, but it wasn’t low enough to keep the snow from staying a little longer. It had rained the night prior.

The sweet surrendering scent of the morning dew filled the forest with a scent that did not belong on earth. The leaves from the tall trees by scattered on the forest floor; each of them turning brittle brown; there was a sound that crunched underfoot, pushing their papery dry remains deep into the soft soil. The dark shadows of the voluminous trees and the surrounding bushes had become the backbone of the forest, standing as passive protectors of a peaceful place. 

The rain fell down the blades of grass into the already wet soil, the droplets pausing on the surface before being sucked into the dark particles. The soil was so damp that the worms had surfaced to breathe and the crows fluttered over the grass with their inky wings, each of them eating at the sudden buffet. The earth was the richest tone having bathed in the rain.

The young princess was seated side-saddle on her black horse. She had taken the time to admire the beauty of the forest around her. She was relishing in the sweet scent of the damp forest ground. She had planned to go on a ride with the princes. The two princes were sitting on their own horses, standing at a short distance. They exchanged a small look. 

"You must forgive us," Prince Sam began. The princess snapped out of her daze before directing her attention to the two princes in front of her. She raised her eyebrows at them, mentally questioning them to enlighten her.

"Our brother," Prince Harry explained. "He is usually not this late. We could have been off on the trail by now if it hadn't been for his unusual tardiness," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Tis fine," Princess Y/N claimed. "I am a patient person." 

The princess looked away from the two princes, humming softly to herself in contentment. She closed her eyes and breathed a small sigh. She was basking in the beauty of the forest. There, she convinced herself that she could wait a few extra minutes for him to arrive for their ride through the forest. 

In a few minutes, the older prince trotted down the long dirt pathway on his white steed. He slowly approached the small group on his horse, pulling the reigns until the horse carne to a halt. The prince did not hesitate to apologize for being late.

"I am sorry," Prince Thomas said. "My father wished to speak with me upon the matters of my inheritance. He would not let me leave the study until all the details were sorted out. I am here now." 

Slowly, Prince Thomas had turned his head to look directly at Princess Y/N. When he looked at her, it was as if every ounce of breath was taken from his lungs. He could feel the whole world coming to a slow stop. His bright brown eyes were sparkling at the mere sight of her, gazing at her with a hint of interest in his eyes.

The two princes had turned their heads to exchange a well-knowing look. They were easily able to see that the two lovebirds were lost in each other's gaze. They had planned something in their heads.

"Dearest brother," Prince Harry said. He gently tugged on the reigns of his horse. "I'll race you to the end of the small pond for thirty pounds," Prince Harry tempted his twin.

“You're on,” Prince Sam yelled.

Together, the two boys clicked their heels against the side of the horse. The two horses darted off down the pathway, racing each other to see who would reach the pond first The two boys had found themselves forcing their horses to run faster, whipping the reigns. They clicked their tongues to encourage the horses to race to the very end. 

Once out of sight, the prince and princess were left alone to themselves. They were unattended and unsupervised. Slowly, Prince Thomas dismounted his horse by throwing his leg off the side of the mighty steed. He jumped down off his horse, holding onto the saddle for support. He walked towards the princess's horse, staring deeply into her eyes. 

The prince had shifted to approach the side of the horse. He did not hesitate to lift his hand, stroking the horse's mane in a calming way. He turned his head and looked up at the young princess staring down at him. He offered his other hand to her.

Slowly, the princess had lowered her hands onto the prince’s shoulders for support. The prince placed his hands on her waist before hoisting her off the saddle of the horse. He pulled her closer into his embrace, holding her firmly for a brief second. They stared into each other’s eyes, feeling lost in the world of emotion.

The young prince lowered the princess onto her own two feet, setting her down on the ground. They held onto each other for a moment, staring into each other’s captivating eyes. The two of them were quite hesitant to pull away from each other. They stood in an awkward silence for a brief moment.

“I never had the chance to thank you for the flowers by the way,” Princess Y/N cleared her throat. She had sheepishly lowered her gaze to stare down at her hands, hoping to find the blush on her cheeks. 

“You're welcome,” Prince Thomas replied. His lips had curved into the most genuine smile in the world. He was just able to see the small blush on her cheeks. It made his heart soar.

“Wherever did you find them?” Princess Y/N wondered. She had lifted her head to look up at him with this spark of curiosity in her eyes. She had subconsciously shuffled on the heels of her feet, standing at attention.

“I have my ways,” Thomas chuckled softly to himself. He didn't want to spoil it for her, so he choose to be as vague as possible. He could see his two brothers growing smaller and smaller in the distance. He turned his head to look back down at the princess of the east standing in front of him. “Shall we take a walk?” Thomas suggested.

The two royals had chosen to take a different pathway for their walk. It wasn’t even a real path at all. The forest did not seem to have any path. In the forest the sky vanishes almost completely, only a few fragments of blue remain- like scattered pieces of an impossible jigsaw puzzle. The air is rich with the fragrance of leaves and loam. Even so many hours after the rains have passed, the soil remains quite damp.

The only movement is the occasional bird, startling in a trees or a squirrel dashing up a nearby trunk. The sound of running water in the brook has the same hypnotic quality as music. The huckleberries are mostly red tart but with just the right amount of sweetness.

The two lovebirds had turned their and looked at each other as if they could already read each other's minds. In an instant, the two royals had started running through the vast forest. They could feel the smiles growing on their faces as the adrenaline pumped through their veins. 

The air had that smell of woodland before a rain, perhaps above the canopy, there are clouds fit to burst. It was dark for that time of day, no perhaps soon the filtered light will be accompanied by water droplets. The woodland floor was a million hues of brown, the crisp leaves from the tree had fallen some time ago. Some acorns littered the ground, having tumbled down from the tall pine trees. 

The trees were veiled in the lightest of mists, their trunks sombre brown with sable cracks that gnarl the bark. The vines and roots twisted beneath the canopy of leaves on the damp floor of the forest. The trees grew thicker at the trunks. The couple raced deeper and dee er into the dark forest.

The prince had taken off his riding cap as they raced keeping into the forest. The princess was holding onto the skirt of her dress, making sure she didn't trip or fall as she ran. She turned her head and looked behind her, laughing at the prince chasing her.

The princess didn't seem to notice the small incline nearing closer to her feet. A small hill —nothing too steep— was growing closer as they farther they raced. In a split second, the princess's foot caught underneath an uprooted vine. The princess tripped over the vine, falling down the small incline instantly. She gasped to herself. She had hoped that the prince would catch her, but it was far too late now. 

The prince's eyes widened in realization. The prince extended his hand, hoping to grab onto her before she fell on her back. Their fingers brushed together, but it was not enough to pull her to safety. The princess landed in a heap of leaves, hitting the solid dam forest round hard. She could feel the wind getting knocked out of her. She lay there for a brief moment.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Prince Thomas wondered.  He was quick to drop down to her side. He had lifted his hand to hover over her body, checking for any exterior signs of injury. But he wouldn’t touch her without permission.

The princess had lifted her hand towards the front of her face, roughly brushing her hair out of the way. She didn’t seem to tear her dress (thankfully), but the silky material was absolutely drenched in wet mud. She could feel this sharp white pain in her ankle. She whimpered softly to herself for the pain was growing stronger with each passing second.

"M-My ankle. I must have twisted it," Princess Y/N groaned. She had gripped onto the skirt of her dress, maybe hoping that it would relieve her pain. The prince turned his head and looked in the direction of her feet. He directed his gaze back to her, choosing his next words very carefully.

"Mind if l have a look at it?" Prince Thomas questioned.

The princess turned her head to stare directly at him in disbelief. She had half expected to find this smug look on his face, but she was greeted by this look of innocence instead. He wasn’t joking or teasing her. He was being serious. He was staring down at her with the utmost look of worry and concern in his bright brown eyes.

It was not proper to have some boy looking underneath a woman's skirt, especially if she was unmarried. If a woman lifted her dress to show her ankle, it was considered very provocative. It was even worse since it was a flirtatious practice to gain attention or arouse interest. It would be deemed as indecent. It was a scandalize thought.

She wouldn’t dare...

He spoke her name softly. The princess of the east had blinked a few times, returning to reality. She turned her head and looked at her prince charming, contemplating whether or not to allow him to see her ankle. She forced herself to swallow the heavy lump in her throat before slowly nodding her head in agreement. 

With some hesitation, Prince Thomas had shifted downwards to move past her legs. He maintained eye contact at all times; something only a gentleman would do. He turned his head and looked down at her large skirt. He reached down and grabbed a small handful of her dress skirt in his hands, lifting her dress to reveal her swollen ankle. 

The hemline of the dress was pushed upwards, though it traveled no farther than her knee. He was gazing at the princess, mentally asking for her permission to continue. She found herself shifting in her place uncomfortably, thinking of how wrong it felt.

"I won't look at anything else," Prince Thomas reassured her. He had lowered his hand to grasp onto her ankle. He lifted her ankle to slip her shoe off her foot. He set her shoe to the side. Then he had lowered her foot to place it in his lap. Her white stockings were muddy and dirty, seeing as though she was running through a forest. 

The prince's fingers wrapped around her ankle, drawing a gasp from her lips. He was quick to lift his head to her, staring directly at her with worry and concern in his eyes. He moved her ankle around to make sure nothing was broken. He grasped onto her foot with both his hands, feeling around for any broken bones. 

"It...is a bit swollen," Prince Thomas acknowledged. "Does it hurt?" 

"O-Only sometimes. I-It depends on where you are touching it," Princess Y/N explained, shifting slightly in her place. The prince nodded his head understandingly. He dropped his gaze to look down and examine her ankle once again. He tried to get a better view of her foot.

Her knees were bent in an upright position. The prince had to reframe himself from sneaking a peek at her bloomers which were almost on full display for him. He took a deep breathe, holding it for few moments. He could feel the rush of heat rising to his cheeks. He forced himself to look away, mentally acknowledging that the temptation was too great. 

"Please, tell me when it hurts," Thomas said. He turned his head and looked at the princess. He moved his hands around her small ankle, feeling for any source of pain. "Here?" Thomas spoke softly.

The princess kept silent. 

"Or here?" Thomas suggested. His hands had moved to another small point in her ankle. He tilted his head to the side for he noticed that she was not speaking up. Little did he know, she was still at a loss for words. He moved his hand again. "Here?" Thomas wondered.

"Oh," Princess Y/N said, moaning in pain. She flinched as soon as his hand pressed against the swollen mound. She had lowered her hand to grasp onto her skirt, shifting the material away from her ankle. Her eyes were squinted together, focusing on the pain in her ankle. 

"There it is," Prince Thomas whispered. His lips had tugged into a small smile across his face. He could see the bright blush creeping onto her fragile face. "Do you think you can walk back to the palace?" Prince Thomas questioned. 

She couldn't seem to form any words. She timidly shook her head in denial. She could only wonder what he would do if she couldn’t walk back to the place. He found himself smiling at her timid reaction. He did not hesitate to take her other shoe off her foot. He handed her the pair of shoes to hold for the moment.

Then Thomas had shifted to her side and laced his arm underneath her bent legs. He placed this other arm behind her back to support her. He lifted her into his arms like she weighed no more than a small child. He had started walking back towards the pathway. He was carrying her bridal style through the vast forest. 

The princess was gazing at him like he was some knight in shining armor that he just saved her from a ferocious dragon. She had placed her hand on his broad chest to steady herself. Her dress was effortlessly flowing in the wind. Her little toes peeked out from her dress from the angle her was holding her. 

Once the two royals had made it back to the path, the other brothers of the prince were waiting for them. The two of them were standing beside their horses. They were quick to step forward in their place. They stopped themselves once they saw the situation unfolding in front of them. Their eyes widened in realization. 

"What the hell happened?" Harry questioned. He had shifted to stand beside his older brother. He took into account how the princess’s dress was muddy and tattered. He could also see that her hair was frizzed and frayed. He had just briefly seen her toes peeking out from her dress. He could only imagine what happened deep in those woods.

“The princess took a small tumble off an incline. She sprained her ankle. She needs to have a doctor look over it," Thomas explained to them. The two princes were scrambling to gather the horses. They needed to get back to the palace immediately. 

"We can help you mount your horse, princess," Sam said, offering his assistance. The older prince had turned his head and looked at his younger brother in confusion. He furrowed his eyebrows at him.

"What? Are you joking? Do you really think she can ride her horse all the way back to the palace alone?" Thomas said, challenging his brothers. He could see his two brothers shaking their heads in response. "Of course not! She shall ride with me,” Thomas insisted with a nod of the head.

"Oh, t-that's not necessary," the princess said, pipping up. "I-I can ride my horse just fine. It’s only for a few miles,” the princess claimed.

"Nonsense," the prince said, stalking towards his white horse. He did not hesitate to hoist the young princess onto the saddle of his horse, securing her in place. He swung his leg over the horse behind her, mounting his horse properly. 

The princess was seated in front of him, lacing her arms around his neck for security while her legs dangled off the same side of the horse. One thing was for sure, sitting side-saddle with someone accompanying you was no easy task. The prince laced his arms around the princess's waist, grabbing hold of the reigns. He clicked his tongue a few times to urge the horse down the pathway with his brothers trailing behind him. 

Once the small group had returned to the palace, a flood of servants had hurried to them. The servants had been fretting over them. They asked a number of questions. The young prince dismounted his horse in an instant. He had shifted to take one single step forward in his place, but one footman had been quick to stop him. 

“Would you like me to carry her highness into the palace?” the footman wondered. He hadn’t meant to be rude or noisy in the slightest bit. He was only trying to be useful and helpful. He was also trying to be a gentleman.

“No. It’s fine,” Thomas claimed. He had lifted his hands to her sides, grabbing onto her waist in a secure manner. She carefully slid off the horse and stood on her own two feet unsteadily. She had practically collapsed into his grasp upon feeling the tense pain in her ankle. But he was sure to catch her this time.

The young prince had swooped down to lift the princess into his arms, carrying her into the palace with the servants trailing behind them. The King of the North must have overheard all the commotion because he came hurrying towards his dearest daughter. He stopped to stand in front of them, reaching out to brush a few strands of hair out of her face. 

"My lord," the King of the East exclaimed. He brought his hand to cup his mouth. His heart was practically clenching at her disheveled state. "What on earth happened to you, my girl?" the King of the East wondered.

"Really," Y/N sighed. She had turned her head to look at the various servants standing around them, believing that they were making a big deal out of absolutely nothing. "I'm fine. I just fell down and twisted my ankle. I-If it hadn't been for the prince, I wouldn't have ever been able to make it back to the palace. He saved me, father," Y/N claimed.

"Oh pish posh! No need to be so dramatic, my dear. If it hadn't been for your sense of clumsiness, you would have never been in this mess. Don’t go start making stories of your own,” the King of the East scolded her.

"Yes, father." Y/N agreed.

She hung her head down low. She was hoping to hide the tint of pink flooding her cheeks. She could feel a strong sense of embarrassment creeping over her. She choose to drop the matter. She didn’t want to argue with her father about it. 

"If you wouldn't mind, I would like to carry her up to her room now" Thomas said. He had been quick to step forward to offer his assistance. He could feel her shifting in his grasp. “She might need a doctor to look at her ankle,” Thomas concluded.

"She resides in the northern quarters of the palace,” the King of the East stated. He had pointed his finger towards the grand staircase behind him. He shook his head at her one last time. The young prince had dipped his head down in acknowledgment. He started to walk towards the flight of stairs while carrying the princess in his arms.

They walked down the hallways of the palace until they came across the princess's chambers. The prince opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He walked towards her bed and laid her down carefully. He grabbed her shoes and set them to the side. He pull the large comforter over her body.

"I hope..." Thomas began. "You recover soon. That way we can walk in the gardens again...just like we used to," Thomas said. His voice had come out in a soft whisper.

"I am looking forward to it," Y/N said. She had slipped down into the comfort of her own bed, snuggling into the warm blankets. She held the comforter near her chin to hide the blush on her face.

"And..." Prince Thomas’ voice trailed off. He found himself rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet. His hands were laced behind his back. "In given time, I am going to need to ask you a question of importance," Prince Thomas said.

"Will this question have anything to do with our future together?" Princess Y/N wondered. She popped her pink lips into her mouth to hide the smile on her face. She could feel that her cheeks were burning this vibrant shade of pink. She was acting like a giddy schoolgirl.

"It might," Prince Thomas further teased. They smiled at each other and chuckled to themselves softly as to not be heard by the servants outside the bed chambers. Their laughter dialed down as they stared into each others eyes. They could both feel this unknown sensation growing stronger in the depths of their chests.

The young prince had carefully grabbed onto her hand holding onto the comforter. He pulled her hand towards his lips, pressing a small kiss to her knuckles. He had lingered just a moment longer than normal. He had lowered her hand back down onto the bed. He bowed in respect.

Slowly, Prince Thomas had started walking towards the door of her chambers. He grabbed onto the solid gold door handle. He had winked at her teasingly. He was sure to close to the solid wood door behind him. 

In that moment, the young princess had nestled deeper into her large bed. She didn’t hold back the squeal of delight that slipped past her pink lips. She pulled the covers over her head and grabbed a pillow, forcing the pillow to her face. She screamed to herself in absolute delight though her screams were muffled by the pillow. In that moment, Princess Y/N knew that she was utterly and hopelessly in love with the prince of the north. 

A few weeks later, the young princess was able to stand and walk without feeling any more pain in her ankle. There was a servant that opened the grand doors of her chambers. She popped her head through the door to encourage her fellow servant to hurry and finish up. The other servant was placing silver pins in the princess's hair, pulling it back nicely. 

"Your Highness," the one servant said. She had turned her head to look over the small stretch of her shoulder in fear that one of her advisors would come for her hide. “The prince is calling on you. You must hurry," the one servant persisted.

"I know. I'm coming. I won't be a moment longer," Princess Y/N said. She had lifted her head to look through the mirror of her white vanity, staring directly at the one servant standing by the grand door. She smiled at her kindly.

The servant bowed her head before disappearing into the hallway of the palace. The young princess did not hesitate to grab her most expensive bottle of perfume which conveniently smelled of wild roses. She picked up the silver dropped, squeezing it slightly to allow the pink drops to escape the dropper.

The rich liquid spread across the princess's silky skin, which would intoxicate her wrists and neck. The princess was staring directly at herself in the mirror, admiring her look for the night. She had gingerly lifted her hand to touch the diamond neckless around her neck, smiling at its beauty. She spun around in her chair, holding on the back with her hand.

"Do fetch my best gloves. I want to look presentable for the prince,” Princess Y/N instructed. The servant dipped her head slightly before turning around and walking towards one of the chests. She lifted the lid of the chest and pulled out the expensive pair of silk gloves.

The princess gently took hold of the gloves before slipping them onto her hands, rolling them up her forearms. She pushed her chair back and stood to her feet, smoothing out her dress. She looked up and fixed her hair once more, making sure she looked perfect.

"Can you believe it? He's finally calling on me," Princess Y/N said with a broad smile on her face. "It's been nearly six months. I'm surprised he has finally found the courage of asking me. At this rate, I was thinking it would be another two years before he called on me,” Princess Y/N teased.

The servant's lips tugged into a soft smile. "You look beautiful, your highness."

The princess turned around and tipped her head down, acknowledging her servant. She thanked the kind woman for all of her assistance. Finally, the princess turned her body and walked towards the door, opening it before stepping into the hallway of the palace.

Slowly, the young princess made her way around the palace. Her head moved from the left to the right, looking down each hallway in search of the prince. She twiddled with her hands nervously, anxiously awaiting to see the prince. The princess walked through the hallways until she found the prince standing near a fireplace in the northern corridor.

The prince was resting his forearm against the mantle of the fireplace, staring into the burning flames. He was thinking to himself. He was rehearsing the words in his mind for the thousandth time. The princess straightened her back in posture and clasped her hands together, holding them tightly. She cleared her throat, drawing away the young man's attention.

“Oh,” Thomas said. “I-I didn’t see you there.”

“Nor I,” Y/N said, chuckling nervously to herself. “I was informed that you called for me. Do you have something to ask of me?” Y/N questioned.

“Well,” Thomas began. He had pulled his hand away from the mantlepiece of the fireplace. He had taken one single step forward in his place. He was forcing himself to maintain eye contact with her. “Yes, I have something to ask of you,” Thomas said. 

The prince had found himself staring into the young woman’s eyes and feeling absolutely mesmerized by her beauty. She had a kind of understated beauty. And perhaps it was because she was so disarmingly unaware of her prettiness. Her large liquid blue eyes were basking in the form of intelligence and serenity that it was impossible to look away from her captivating gaze. She had the kindest pair of baby blue eyes that were trimmed by long gorgeous lashes. Her cheekbones weren't especially high. And her nose was a little small to be considered perfect. Nevertheless, there was an undeniable symmetry to her sparking features.

All of her features were placed together on her delicate angelic face. However, her awestruck beauty was running down to the very core of her heart. She was unwittingly kind and generous to the other students around her, never failing to smile at them. And she was a very likable person. Her laugh and smile were so captivating and contagious; it was impossible to not smile back. To be in her company was to feel that you had been warmed in summer rays regardless of the season. She was perfect.

For some odd reason, Thomas couldn't keep his eyes off her figure in the distance. His gaze was practically transfixed on her little figure, feeling a sense of slight control slip away from his own being. He was looking at her with a blank stare on his face, basking in the appearance of her beauty. He was entranced with her kind and sweet personality, knowing that there was a sense of gentleness in her heart. He seemed to admire all of her features. Though his attraction for her did not stop there, it ran all the way down to his core.

“Well...I-I was partially wondering if you...if you would like to...” Thomas’ voice trailed off again. He took another step forward in his place. He forced himself to swallow the nervous lump lingering at the back of his throat. He almost couldn’t bare to look her in the eyes. 

“Thomas?” Y/N spoke softly to him.

The young prince had taken his final step forward in his stance. With his head hung low, the prince had gingerly reached forward to take hold the princess’s delicate hands. He held them close to his chest before he gathered enough courage to look the princess in the eyes. As soon as they locked gazes, his thoughts had flown out the door. He found himself at a loss for words.

“I-I-I” Thomas stuttered. He wasn’t able to form any coherent words. “Can you...no. That sounds wrong. W-Would you...would you,” Thomas continued, correcting himself along the way. “Would you...allow me...to start...” Thomas stumbled over his words.

The prince groaned to himself. He threw his hands into the air. He spun around on the heels of his feet, striding back towards the fireplace. He was running his hands through his hair in frustration. The princess did not hesitate to comfort him during this hard time. She had taken to approach his side. She placed her hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

“I-I can't say it,” Thomas said. He had turned his head to look over the small stretch of his shoulder slightly. He could barely see her out of the corner of his eye. He wouldn’t dare meet her gaze in fear that she might see the blush on his face. 

“Thomas,” Y/N said. “You can tell me anything.”

Finally, Thomas had turned his head and looked her in the eyes. His eyes darted between her lips and eyes, contemplating whether or not to ask her the question. He had opened his mouth to speak, feeling the words falling out of his mouth.

“I would like to start courting you,” Thomas said firmly. His voice was clear and slow. He didn’t have to repeat himself. He was sure that she had heard him. In a split second, the princess’s lips curved into a pleased smile. She had laced her hands with his, holding them close to her. She gazed up at him with smiling eyes.

“I thought you would never ask,” Y/N said with the shake of her head. She could feel the tears forming in her eyes. She lifted her hand to wipe away her happy tears. He had been slightly taken back by her comment. He had shifted to straighten his back in posture, turning his body towards her. He was staring directly at her with the hint of disbelief in his eyes.

“R-Really? Are you going to agree to this? Are you really committing to me? Or is this all just some dream?” Thomas wondered. He was hoping to contain himself for the time being. He didn’t want to give himself false hope.

“No, Thomas. This is no dream. This...” she said. She lowered her gaze to stare down at their hands, holding his hand tightly. She looked back up at him with shimmering eyes. “This is real,” she claimed. 

“I-I didn’t think you would say yes to me,” Thomas confessed. His voice was shaky and unstable. His heart was fluttering in his chest, beating a million times per minute. He couldn’t contain himself any longer.

And then he did the simplest thing in the word. He leaned forward and kissed her. And the entire world cracked open. The kiss was very quick for it ended less than a second later. It was not a solid kiss. It was not forceful, heavy, or passionate. It was a gentle kiss. Their lips only brushed together, pecking each other’s lips. When the prince pulled away less than a second later, the two of them gazed at each other with wide eyes.

The prince could feel the strong sense of guilt and regret coursing through his veins. He was staring down at her with unsure eyes. His mouth had dropped open in disbelief. He had hoped that the kiss wouldn’t ruin their relationship with one another. The princess looked up at him in utter shock and surprise. He was scrambling to collect his words.

“I-I’m so very sorry. I didn’t mean- I just thought...I-I-I couldn’t help myself. I truly am sorry—” the prince was cut off when the princess stood on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips against the prince’s lips.

The young prince's eyes widened in realization. Instinctively, the prince wrapped his arms around the princess's waist, holding her closely in his embrace. His eyes fluttered closed to savor the moment. Their lips danced together as if the music was playing for them. Their lips locked together in perfect harmony, convincing themselves that they really were made for each other. 

Her plump soft lips were compelling against his slimmer warmer lips, molding in the perfect manner. She had wrapped her arms around his neck to draw him down closer to her. He drifted into a dreamy state of mind, responding to the kiss by allowing himself to loose control over himself. He was pressing his lips against her small mouth, kissing her back with the same amount of passion. Their lips were moving and bonding together in synchronized harmony. 

The feeling of epiphany and elation was percolating through their veins, surging throughout their entire systems. The sudden sensation of warm and comfort was coursing through their bodies at the same moment. The euphoric bliss was blossoming within their bodies, warming the coldest part of the soul. The sparks were bursting thorough the veins in their bodies, creating a warm sensation in the pit of their stomachs. It was a small and warm kiss.

The kiss obliterated every thought. For the first time, Thomas and Y/N's minds were locked into the present moment. The worries and concerns of life were evaporating within an instant. The worries, troubles, and problems were disappearing out of their line of sight, melting away from the entire picture. Their usual mode of working things out in a timely order was completely suspended for the moment; neither of them wanted the kiss to end. Nothing seemed to matter at the given moment. The two of them only seemed to be focusing on each other at the time.

The feeling was so strange. It was stretching throughout their whole bodies. The foreign feeling was so overwhelming. And yet, it made them feel complete. The unknown feeling has no bound, nor length, nor depth. It is just absolute. The happy feeling was able to make it feel like their hearts were dancing around their chest. And a hole (that they were not aware of) had been filled to the very brim. Although they were quite young (and most people would consider them to be foolish and naive), the two of them were more than certain about their feelings towards one another. 

The emotions of passions, love, and affection were coursing through the millions of veins in their bodies. The foreign emotions had managed to cause a warm sensation to rise in the pit of their stomachs. The little flutter of a feather was tickling every part of their bodies, causing their abdomens to crunch at the unbearable feeling of giddiness. With each touch, the sparks were flying in the different directions of their bodies. The feeling of love had never felt more comforting. The two of them were more than convinced that they were destined to be together. And that kiss was the beginning of a promise of much more to come.

When they pulled apart, they rested their heads together. They panted heavily, hoping to regain their breath. They gazed into each other's eyes, staring directly into one another’s hearts. They could feel their hot breaths mingling together in the tight space between them. The prince's nose brushed against the princess's little nose, nudging it gently. He reached up and cupped her face with one hand. 

"You...have no idea how long I have wanted to do that," Thomas claimed, breathing steadily. He didn’t mean to brush his nose against the tip of hers, nudging it gently. He lifted his hand to cup her face with one hand. "How long! have waited to kiss your lips. How I have longed to hold you in my embrace. How long I have wanted you," Thomas continued.

“Well, you have me. All of me,” Y/N whispered. She was gazing into the prince's dashing brown eyes. She was almost able to get lost in them. She could see his lips lift into a soft smile. She forced herself onto the tips of her toes, so she could press her lips against his once more. 

"This...commitment we have made to each other...it calls for something that I need from you," Thomas further explained. He had pulled away from her embrace for a brief moment. 

"What do you need of me?" Y/N wondered. She had furrowed her eyebrows in slight confusion, swaying slight in his embrace. She could see him lean forward to brush his cheek against hers, whispering into her ear seductively.

"A lock of your hair," Thomas whispered to her. He almost didn't want to pull away from her. He could smell the rich scent of perfume on her neck. He found himself savoring the moment once again. 

Slowly, Thomas had pulled away from her embrace. He knelt down to his knees. Their gazes never left each others. Her hands fell to his shoulders as he kneeled in front of her. He moved his hand towards his boot, pulling out a small knife. He slowly stood to his feet again. 

The prince had brought his hand towards the side of her face, plucking a small strand of hair near her slender neck. He was fiddling with her hair in his hands, feeling the smoothness of her silky hair. He turned his head and leaned forward until his lips brushed against her ear. His hot breath sent a cold shiver down her spine.

“May I?” Thomas asked for permission.

The princess nodded her head in response. She had lifted her hand to grab onto his forearm. She drew her lower lip between her teeth. Slowly, the prince pulled away from her ear. He had carried the small knife towards her head. He grabbed a small strand of hair underneath her ear, gathering it in his hands. He brought the knife towards it, effortlessly cutting through the hair. When he finished cutting off a strand of her hair, he placed his knife back into his boot. He pulled a handkerchief out of his coat jacket.

The prince placed the strand of hair into the handkerchief before holding the cloth over itself. He had decided to tuck the handkerchief into his coat pocket, securing it close to his chest. He patted his chest one time.

"I shall keep it here," Thomas said softly. "Close to my heart." 

She had lowered her gaze to stare down at her feet, hoping to hide the pink blush creeping onto her face. He had lifted his hand to place his fingers underneath her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. He was staring deeply into her captivating eyes. He savored the moment as instructed by his own father.

"I shall call on you tomorrow," Thomas further explained. He could see the princess’s pink lips growing into a small smile across her face. He smiled back at her. He was quick to lean down in his place, pecking her lips once more. 

"I am looking forward to it," Y/N breathed. She really didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to see him again. She could only wish to meet him in her dreams.

The two royals had found themselves leaning forward in hopes of sharing one last kiss together. Suddenly, a familiar voice called out from the hallways. It was one of the prince's brothers, calling to see if he wanted to visit the stables. The young couple turned their heads to look in the general direction of the voice.

"I-I have to go," Thomas declared. He had turned his head to look back down at the princess standing in front of him. He hesitantly pulled his hands out of her grasp. He had only taken one step.

"Wait," Y/N exclaimed. She did not hesitate to reach forward to grab the prince’s hand. She watched him turn his head and look at her in slight confusion. She opened her mouth to speak. "Meet me tonight after everyone has gone to sleep," Y/N offered.

"What are we going to do?" Thomas questioned. He had furrowed his eyebrows at her statement. He had known that it was entirely improper to meet with a young woman after dark, especially if they were unmarried. But it had been proven in the last few weeks that they didn’t care what was improper anymore after her fall. She looked at him with loving and adoring eyes. 

"That's all up to you,” Y/N teased. She was staring at him with loving and adoring eyes. He had immediately raised his eyebrows in surprise. He found himself nodding his head in confirmation. He could hear the voice call out again. He pulled away from her with great hesitation. He had turned to race down the hallways of the palace, leaving the love of his life alone. 

The princess breathed steadily. She found herself lifting her hand towards the frontside of her face, feeling her fingertips brush against her soft lips. She shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't help but suppress the smile growing on her face. They were living in secrecy. Something that brought a rush of dangerous adrenaline into their beings. It wasn't a rebellious or forbidden love. It was a secret love; one that nobody knew about just yet.

At midnight, the prince turned his head and looked at the time. He stood to his feet. He was sure to grab a small candle to lead him through the dark hallways of the palace. He had quietly closed the door behind him. He had started walking through the dark hallways of the palace, hoping to avoid any guards standing by the doorways. He finally made it to her royal bedchambers. 

With hesitation, Thomas had raised his fist to the solid wood door. He knocked on the door of the room as quietly as possible. He took a single step backwards, waiting for a brief moment. He could hear the doorknob slowly jingling. He saw the solid gold door handle twist and turn in attempts to open the door. 

When the door had finally opened, Thomas had straightened his back in posture. He could see the young princess poke her head out of the door. She had turned her head to look up at him with a small smile on her face. She was quick to step out of her room, closing the door behind her. 

At the sight of her, the prince was forced himself to look away from her. He wanted to be respectful of her privacy. He could clearly see that she was only wearing her white nightgown. He was trying not to think about whether or not she was wearing her corset underneath her nightgown, but his best bet was that she wasn't. 

"I-I’m sorry. My servants wouldn't leave until I got in my nightwear. I had to change," Y/N spoke in a soft whisper. She had pulled on the ribbons of her robe. She carried the soft material over her white nightgown to hide her modesty, tying the ribbons together.  

"No," the prince blurted out. "No, it's fine. You look fine." 

The princess had lifted her hand to the side of her face to tuck a small strand of her hair behind her ear. Her long dark brown hair was stretching the bottom of her shoulder blades, dripping over her shoulders in a mesmerizing manner. Her hair was flowing down. It was not pulled back, curled, or pinned. It was free, flowing effortlessly over her shoulders. Her long hair reached down to her lower back. It was brushed until it looked silky. There were no knots or tangles. 

She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, thinking it may not have been the best idea to invite the prince to meet with her. Her eyes drifted upwards to drink in his manly appearance. She could see that he was no longer wearing his formal jacket or uniform. His white button-up shift was loosely buttoned, showing off some of his broad chest.

The two of them were breathing steadily to themselves. They were taking the time to admire each other in the silence of the night. Their faces were glowing due to the small candle in the his hand. Slowly, Thomas had reached down to grab onto her hand. He had started leading her down the hallways of the palace, following the light of the candle.

“Where shall we go?” Thomas whispered in a soft tone of voice. She could feel the broad smile growing at the corners of her lips. She thought about his words for a brief moment. They had stopped in their steps. The two of them turned their heads and looked at the grand front door standing in front of them.

“To the stars.”

[girlmeetsliv3]

Killing Me Softly: I

Sugardaddy!BTS x reader

They were beloved. The very ground they walked on worshiped. It had been that way since before you were born and it would remain that way even after your choice. Decisions decisions, it would decide your future. But why choose one when you could choose them all? If you chose none, well... that wasn’t a decision you could make.

AN: This is for the person who requested an ot7 sugar daddy story where bts are yandere. Sorry, it took so long, but this ended up being a three-part story. Hope everyone enjoys it!

Trigger Warning: The following story contains mentions of manipulation, abuse, and vivid descriptions of abusive acts. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

Word Count: 7,115

     killingmesoftlywithhislove    

Dear Ms. [Y/l/n]

               We regret to inform you that your application has been denied. Unfortunately, you do not have the qualities or qualifications necessary to work as a crew member under McDonalds’ incorporated Inc. We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors. Have a nice day.

Now, you weren’t conceited enough to think that it was impossible for your job application to be denied. You understood when you graduated university that finding employment would be difficult, but you also weren’t dense enough not to notice a pattern. This had been your tenth application and the same thing would always happen: you’d apply, they interview you, be ecstatic to hire you, and in under forty-eight hours you would receive a polite email where they would tell inform you that you didn’t have the ‘qualifications’ or ‘didn’t fit their image.’ You had done an internship at a top-notch telecommunications company, graduated in three years, and were in the top one percentile. How were you not qualified to flip burgers at McDonald's?! A deep sigh left your body as you pressed your forehead against the kitchen table, trying to calm yourself down. “Bad news again?” Sihyeon said exiting the bathroom, her hair perfectly styled into soft waves and a tight purple cocktail dress adorning her figure. “It just doesn’t make any sense. Why would I keep getting rejected? Is there something I’m not seeing?” You were exasperated and couldn’t help the tears that came to your eyes.

           You wanted independence and to maintain yourself. Here you go…Sure you knew being an adult wasn’t easy and despite how naïve they called you, the struggle was always part of the journey. Despite this, it felt like there was something you were missing as if someone was playing a cruel joke on you. “You could always call them,” Sihyeon remarked as she put on her heels. “No. Absolutely not. I haven’t stooped that low.” Your roommate sighed and walked over to where you were sitting, leaning over the chair and giving you a back hug. “You don’t have to start again, but maybe just ask them for advice. Or at least talk to Hoseok. He always knows what to do.” Sihyeon was just trying to help, had she known everything she would have never suggested you go back. She might have even prohibited it. Her not knowing was for her own safety though and for it not to affect her relationship with her ‘clients’ as she called them. “Maybe, I don’t know. Hurry up you don’t want to be late.” There was fear in your eyes and Sihyeon noticed but being the friend, she is she merely kissed your cheek and promised to text you when she arrived and left. It didn’t matter, Sihyeon wouldn’t come home tonight but it was a matter of precaution. Being a sugar baby was a dangerous profession at times and you, unfortunately, found that out far too late.

           You stared at your phone intensely, the face reflecting back being one of fear but desperation. Maybe she’s right. I just have to text one of them and ask for advice, the others won’t find out and I’ll go on merrily. It couldn’t be Hoseok though, he had been the first one you met and the one you had been the most hurt by. Seokjin was a better option: he was more rational and arguably the one you had spent the least amount of time with. Yes, Seokjin is the better option. Grabbing your phone, you opened the messaging app and pressed create a new message. When you found his contact, you hovered slightly over it, debating whether this was the right choice or not. Seokjin wasn’t fond of texting and preferred talking, saying there was far too much room for misinterpretation through text. You weren’t sure you could hold a conversation with him, but maybe leaving a voice mail might not hurt. So, you pressed the green phone icon and waited until the ringing echoed, it was funny how you knew exactly when he would pick up: always on the fifth ring. “Kim Seokjin speaking.” Fuck. “Hi, it’s [Y/n] [Y/l/n], I’m sorry to call you at such an unfortunate time. Are you busy?” You were tripping over your own words and were anxious at what his reply might be. “I’m always busy. What do you want?” Seokjin had never been the most affectionate individual, but the complete lack of human emotion in his voice let you know he no longer cared.

“You know what, never mind. Forget I called. I apologize for taking up your time.” You bit your lip and began to pace around the small apartment. This had been a mistake. Of course, he would hate your guts now, wouldn’t all of them? They felt used and abandoned. Their worst fear, materializing in the flesh. You waited for him to reply rudely or simply to hang up, but he didn’t. “[Y/n] I don’t have time to discuss this right now. Meet me tonight at St. Pierre’s around seven. I’ll be at the bar.” It was something you would end regretting later, you were sure of it. Nonetheless, you agreed to meet Seokjin there in hopes that he could help. All you could do was hope he didn’t misunderstand the purpose of your call or inform the other six. You could only pray.

St. Pierre’s was an upper-class restaurant that was a hybrid between French and Italian cuisine. It was in the heart of the city, but due to its ridiculous price and it always been booked only the elite of society got to enjoy it. You had the pleasure of being there three times in your life: when you met Hoseok, when you met the others, and now. Its elegant fifteenth-century inspired interior mixed the haunting roman architecture was a sight to behold. The bar, in itself, looked like something crafted by Rafael with it being made completely out of marble. It was something that when you had first come you had been afraid of touching, thinking that your second-class status would somehow ruin its elegance. The bar was mostly desolate except for a couple at the very corner sipping on wine. You could tell by her age and his demeanor their relationship: the younger man laughed but didn’t reach his eyes. His suit while fitted wasn’t of high fabric merely an imitation. The clothes she wore were simple, but anyone with a fine eye could tell the quality far surpassed anything bought at a department store. Before you would’ve never noticed things like this but being around them had changed the way you viewed the world. It also made it easy to spot anyone who was a sugar baby when you had been one not so long ago. Those thoughts brought a soft smile to your face as you remember how it all began…

_Thirteen Months Ago_

           “Lola?”

           You looked up from your phone to see a handsome man in a silk black buttoned-down and tight slacks standing in front of you. His face exactly like the profile picture, you had just been staring at. “Jung Hoseok?” You asked, standing up to greet him. To your surprise, instead of shaking your hand the man immediately went for a hug. “It’s nice to meet you. I have to admit I was a bit worried that you wouldn’t look like your picture.” There was relief in his voice and you too had worried about the same thing. “Yeah, same.” The two of you sat down with a waiter coming over and pouring water into the empty glasses before dismissing himself. Hoseok seemed to be analyzing you, taking in every detail of your face, it was a bit unnerving. As was the silence between the two of you. “Sorry, I’ve never done this before, so I don’t really know what to do…” You trailed off fiddling with the hem of your dress. “It's okay, I’m not an expert either nor do I expect you to be. Why don’t you start out by telling me about yourself? Like what about your name?” Hoseok smiled, leaning back into his chair. How did he? “How do you know Lola isn’t my name?” You questioned before it dawned on you that he didn’t, and you had just revealed it yourself. If you could facepalm at that moment you would’ve. “You don’t look like a Lola. That and I called your name like twice before.” Oh. You licked your lips before speaking, “[Y/n.]” If possible, Hoseok smiled even wider. His lips resembling a heart. “So [Y/n] why do you want to start sugaring?”

_Present_

           “I thought the last time we spoke you said you never wanted to see any of us again.” Kim Seokjin looked like something out a romantic era painting, with his sharp yet delicate features. The way he was human but gave off this grandeurs aura few could give. You toyed around with the straw in your drink, it was sprite with a lime in it to make it look like alcohol. If you were intoxicated, you would make bad decisions and god knows this already was one. “Last time we spoke was today and you said to meet you here.” He hated when you play dumb, you weren’t doing it on purpose, but rather to avoid the inevitable. Best not to dwell on the past for it wouldn’t bring it back. Seokjin took a seat on the barstool next to yours, waving the bartender away when he came forward. It seems he wasn’t keen on drinking either, not that you could blame him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you? It’s not every day an ex-lover calls to chat.” His words were meant to appear light, but you could see the way his jaw was locked, and his teeth were slightly clenched. Ex-lover. There was a problem.

           “I was never your lover Jin, that isn’t what we agreed on. We also never spoke of becoming lovers.” Subconsciously you reached out towards him, but the second your fingers touched his Seokjin recoiled; as if being burnt by your touch. It hurt. “Well then, why did you call me [Y/n]?” The longer you stared into his eyes, the more you knew this wasn’t going to work. There was pain, wrath, but also insanity swirling around in his pupils. Seokjin could only take so much until he cracked, and you didn’t want a repeat of that night. “I’m sorry Jin, this was a mistake. I’m sorry for wasting your time and taking up your night. I hope you have a good life.” You took out your wallet and dropped what you owed before attempting to slide off the chair. Attempt was the right word, as Seokjin immediately took hold of your forearm prohibiting you from leaving. “We aren’t done talking until you tell me why you called me.” His voice had lowered significantly, his hand applying more pressure to your arm by the second. “Seokjin, you’re hurting me. Let go.” You whimpered, trying to pull your arm away. It only served to have him pull you closer, your body taut against his.

           “You hurt us, [Y/n]. You made us fall for you, only to toss us aside when we weren’t necessary. Now what you come back only to parade in front of me and then abandon me again, I don’t think so.” Tears began to spring to your eyes as a deranged look overtook Seokjin. Your arm turning white from lack of blood. It was the way he had stared at you that night. The way they all stared at you. It made you want to cry out for help, thankfully you didn’t have to. “Is everything okay?” You didn’t recognize the voice, but when you turned you saw it was the older lady with her sugar baby beside her. The woman’s elegant features wrinkled into a frown at your expression. Seokjin immediately released you and masked his face, “Everything is fine. Sorry if we scared you.” You took the opportunity to excuse yourself and head straight for the exit. Ordering an uber and getting in, before Seokjin could find you.

_Eleven Months Ago_

           Hoseok and you had a lunch date scheduled with a business partner of his. The two of them trying to acquire a developing technology from an old ahjussi. You were there to entertain his wife who Hoseok had described as ‘simple-minded but nice.’ You weren’t sure if it was a compliment or not. You also weren’t sure of your role only that you were Hoseok’s date. Though the two of you had spent some time together it was usually alone, Hoseok wasn’t a fan of public outings and since learning of his position as head of a major corporation, neither were you. “You look stunning.” Hoseok had told you, when you had met him at the restaurant thirty minutes before the meeting was scheduled. Hoseok had gifted you a baby blue cap sleeve dress to wear today and you loved it. The two of you had never really agreed on your payment: sometimes it would be gifts, outings, or sometimes he would deposit five hundred dollars to into your PayPal account.

           “Oh, I have a friend I would love for you to meet. His name is Kim Seokjin, we’ve known each other since high school.” From the fondness in his tone, it seemed Seokjin meant a lot to Hoseok. So, you smiled and nodded, hoping the man was as nice as Hoseok described him to be. Not even five minutes later, a black Audi pulled up to the curve and out stepped a man so beautiful, the gods might envy him. He quickly looked around and smiled the moment his eyes met Hoseok’s. That must be him. Seokjin handed the car keys to the valet and walked towards the two of you, his eyes never leaving Hoseok as the two embraced. “How have you been, Hobi? I haven’t seen you in forever.” His voice was higher pitched than you had imagined, but it suited him somehow. The two exchanged pleasantries until the focus shifted onto you. “Jin this is [Y/n]. She’s the one I’ve been telling you about.” You didn’t know why Hoseok had been speaking to his friends about you, but all those thoughts disappeared when Seokjin finally looked at you.

           There was such potency and intimacy in his stare, you felt as if the world around you had faded and all that was left was him and you. Seokjin’s eyes trailed down your body as if he was drinking you in. You should’ve known he was trouble just from that. What should’ve tipped you off to how dangerous he truly was, is how he was able to return to normalcy in the blink of an eye. “Nice to meet you, [Y/n]. Hope we can be friends.” Seokjin had no intention of being friends with you and you had known it since then.

_Present_

           It wasn’t until you reached your apartment and fished your phone out of your clutch that you saw all the missed messages and calls from Sihyeon. Fearing the worst, you immediately called her, “Sihyeon what’s going on?” Tonight had been stressful and things were only going to get worse. “[Y/n] you won’t believe what I just find out. I was speaking to Jeonhan about your situation and he said he would investigate it. Well, he dug around, and you’ve been blacklisted by Kim Communications. That’s why you can’t get a job.” It took all of your will power in that second not to scream, rage, or break down into a fit of tears. “Sihyeon I’ll have to call you back.” You didn’t even wait until she replied, simply hanging up. The sob that had been latched in your throat since this morning finally escaped and you broke down, falling to the floor.

           If you could turn back time and never have met them, you would. If you could turn back time and never had agreed to become their sugar baby or even going on that stupid trip you would’ve. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, and you would have to live with the consequences of your actions. It would be so much easier to crawl into bed and cry yourself to sleep, but you had already gotten out of that phase weeks ago. Plus, you would be damned if you gave them the satisfaction of seeing you broken without them. You willed yourself to stop crying and opened your phone once again, going straight for the bastard’s contact. He might have blocked you, who knows, Jimin was the pettiest but Taehyung wasn’t too far behind apparently. Not only had he fucked with your feelings, but with your livelihood and that was not acceptable. Nor would you take it in stride. Despite being older it seems Taehyung couldn’t take the high road.

Y/l/n Y/n: I know what you did.

Kim Taehyung: Well if it isn’t Miss Independent.

Y/l/n Y/n: This is serious Taehyung. Why would you do something like this?

Kim Taehyung: Do what? ;) 

Y/l/n Y/n: I’ll sue you for defamation of character.

Kim Taehyung: You don’t have the money to do that.

You threw your phone against the pillows and watched it bounce back onto the mattress. Taehyung had always caused your blood to boil, but instead of passion, all that you felt was pure hatred. But why? Taehyung had once offered you a job at his company, as his secretary of course. He would often joke about the rendezvous the two of you would have while the rest of the office remained oblivious. Most of the times you would shoot down his ideas, telling him you didn’t want to get a job simply because you were screwing the boss. Sometimes though you would entertain his delusions. Teasing him about this or that: anywhere from getting him coffee in the mornings to quickies during the break. Taehyung never seemed to understand that you were joking, however. It got to the point where he nearly submitted a fake application for you, the only reason it didn’t happen was because of the trip the eight of you took and the aftermath of it. Your phone’s screen lit up once again, Taehyung having sent another message.

Kim Taehyung: Meet me for lunch tomorrow and we can discuss it.

Y/l/n Y/n: You wish.

           You received an email from Paypal, the subject being a new transaction. Your curiosity was piqued, so you opened the app: seven hundred dollars had just been sent to you from Taehyung’s account. If you had been upset before that action was a slap to the face. A scoff exited your lips and you went back to the previous screen, typing away as fast as you could.

Y/l/n Y/n: Go fuck yourself Kim Taehyung.

Kim Taehyung: Why when I can pay you to do it?

           At that point, no words could describe how you felt. You blocked his number, refunded the money, and turned off your phone. Today had been a long day and tomorrow would be even longer. You quickly changed into your pajamas and got into bed, turning off the lights in an attempt to sleep peacefully. That wouldn’t happen. Your brain was in overdrive: recalling and analyzing every single moment shared between you and the men trying to figure out where it went wrong. Where their feelings changed or where their obsession began. Why you had agreed on going on that trip and what you could’ve avoided had you simply never met Hoseok, to begin with. Eventually, you grew so tired that sleep came to you.

           You didn’t know how long you had been asleep, but it felt like four-five hours maximum. Though your eyelids were heavy something willed you to wake up, an uncomfortable feeling overtaking your body. You flipped your body around, so you were laying on your back and facing your bedroom door. Slowly you willed one eye open, though your eyesight was still blurry you managed to make out a figure standing by your door. The sun hadn’t yet risen, so a greyish hue took over your room. “Sihyeon? Did you just get back?” You croaked, still trying to focus your eyes. Sihyeon didn’t respond and you frowned but were finally able to see who was standing there: none other than Kim Namjoon. Immediately you jumped back pressing yourself against the headrest while looking over to where your phone was charging on your bedside table. It was gone. “Your friend was a little intoxicated, so I offered her a ride home. I didn’t know you had switched apartments.” There was something so smooth about the way Namjoon spoke, he reminded you of a television villain. Someone who could describe the way he was about to murder your entire family but do it in the most charismatic and charming way possible. That’s how you knew you were fucked when he spoke like that.

           Namjoon was waiting for you to respond but you refused. Knowing that one wrong word would set him off and he could either pounce on you or destroy your life with a simple phone call. Taehyung had already done that, so he didn’t need to do that much. Oh my god, Sihyeon. Your eyes dragged from him over to your door, he seemed to notice for Namjoon rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Don’t worry she’s just had a bit too much to drink. I found her stumbling around her boyfriend’s hotel lobby, figured she could use some help. He’s not her boyfriend. “Jeonhan isn’t her boyfriend.”  You snapped back, you could see the anger in his face by the way his jaw tightened. His eyebrow-raising, before he decided to walk around the bed, taking a seat right in front of you. You tried to push yourself up against the headboard as much as you could, but he was still only at armlengths. “Where’s my phone Namjoon?” He shrugged as if he had no idea what you were talking about. “I hear you went to meet Seokjin yesterday and that you spoke to Taehyung. Why?” Of course, he would find out the men shared everything. Even things which shouldn’t be shared. “I went to Seokjin for advice about not being able to find a job. Imagine my surprise when I found out the reason was that Taehyung had me blacklisted for no fucking reason.” The words came out without much thought, your emotions taking control.

           Truthfully you were seething but it had little impact on the man in front of you, who raised his hand to gently cup your cheek. “Taehyung’s hurt and so is Seokjin. That’s why they both acted the way they did. Both called me yesterday crying over how they treated you.” You shook your head, rolling your eyes knowing how much that pissed him off; You succeeded as his palm twitched ever so slightly. “If they wanted to apologize, they should’ve done so to me.” Why is he here? Namjoon was always the peacemaker, that was something you had noticed from the start of your relationship. He always wanted everyone to get along and be friends forever, but that wasn’t going to happen; especially not with them. “Princess, the real world is hard. I warned you didn’t I that it wasn’t a place for people like you.” God was he a great manipulator. Even now as he caressed your face and leaned in towards you, there was something inside you that wanted to believe him. That wanted to give in to him and the rest of them. It had been Namjoon that convinced you to be with all seven of them at the same time, it was he who assured you nothing bad would happen, you’d be damned to repeat the same mistake. “I can’t Namjoon. I won’t. I can’t just lie around and depend on others to maintain me. I can’t live off others like a leech.” They had once commented on how they loved your independence. How refreshing it was to be with someone who could stand on their own, even if you were taking money and gifts from them. They only loved your independence as long as you depended on them for it.

           “You had no problem doing it for an entire year.” On the surface, Namjoon looked remarkably calm but underneath there was fire burning and you weren’t about to get caught in it. Gently you took his hand off your cheek, placing it on top of his other hand resting on the covers. “I think you should go, Namjoon.” When Sihyeon woke up you would explain everything to her. Explain why you had switched apartments and moved in with her. Why if she ever saw the men the smartest thing to do was avoid them entirely. Namjoon stood up, adjusting his blazer and cuffs as he looked down at you. “You’re right now isn’t a good time. I’ll be sure to come by later or maybe I’ll just tell the others to stop by see if they have better luck. Maybe Hoseok might convince you.” At his name, your eyes snapped up. He wouldn’t dare. As if he could read your thoughts Namjoon smirked before leaning over you again, putting his arms on either side: trapping you in. “I would. Even if it meant letting the others know where you’ve been hiding all this time. Even if it meant having to destroy your life just so you would finally understand. Or maybe I would do something far worse…” Namjoon pressed his lips against your forehead, before finally standing back up and leaving the room.

           You stayed frozen in shock until you heard the slamming of the front door. Something far worse…Your eyes widened, and you bolted out of bed running straight towards Sihyeon’s room. When you tried to open the door, it was locked and wouldn’t budge. You tried throwing all your weight onto it, kicking it down, even calling for her was useless. Finally, after what seemed like forever the door gave in and the lock came unhinged, you threw the door open hoping for a miracle.

_Nine and half months ago_

           The upper floor of St. Pierre’s had a private dining room fit with a balcony that could be rented out for special occasions. The minimum the party had to spend along with the rental fee was two hundred dollars, something that was nothing but change for the men you were accompanying. The view from the balcony was splendid getting to see all of the downtown area whilst none could see you because of how high up you were. The view wasn’t why you were out here, it was because you needed to step away and think about what had just been propositioned. This wasn’t what you signed up for and sure the pay would be more than what some people make in their entire lives, but at what cost. At what cost. “How are you holding up?” You couldn’t help but be startled, turning around to see none other than Kim Namjoon walking towards you. He smiled softly, “Didn’t mean to scare you. You’ve just been out here for a while and it’s worrying the others.” Even in the dark night and with the low lighting from the two lanterns secured on the balcony, Namjoon was glowing. He looked ethereal and you wondered how you had managed to attract someone like him. How had you managed to attract all seven of them was beyond you.

           “I don’t know what to do.” You spoke softly, gazing out into the city. You felt his eyes on you but refused to meet them as you were far too anxious. “Say yes.” You chuckled but there was no humor in your voice, “I don’t think I can do what you all are asking me to do. Seven people? I barely know what to do with Hobi and I-” His fingers gripped your chin and turned your face towards him. There was something in his eyes, something you hadn’t seen before, he spoke so carefully and softly as if you were a child. “So say yes. You hold the reigns in the relationship. There’s nothing we can do without your consent first. Sure, you would be ours, but we would be yours.” He stepped closer until the two of you were pressed against each other. “Haven’t you ever wanted just for a second in your life to be cared for? No worrying about rent, taxes, not having enough money for food. You can simply focus on your studies and experience things others only dream of.” There was something about his words, they were a mirage. Something that couldn’t really be achieved, but you wanted it so badly. His tongue was coated in honey and you longed to taste it. Perhaps sensing your reluctance, Namjoon spoke again. “If you ever want to stop or get to a place where you no longer need us, they’ll be no hard feelings. We’ll part ways and leave sweet memories behind.”

           Those had been the words that sold you on the entire idea. They had been whispered so seductively into your ear that you had taken them as facts when they were nothing more than baseless lies. They had lied to you to get you where they wanted. Now that you were no longer theirs, they would do anything to get you back.

_Present_

           The monitor beeped constantly as it tracked Sihyeon’s heart rate and respiration. “[Y/n] I’m fine. You didn’t have to bring me here.” She hadn’t been fine. When you broke into her room, Siheyon had been passed out in a pool of her own vomit. Your first instinct was to check if she was breathing and when you felt a faint pulse, you immediately called the ambulance. Now she was awake and sipping on some Gatorade to help with her alcohol poisoning. You could see the embarrassment on her face, Sihyeon wasn’t an avid drinker nor did she mix drinks. “I honestly don’t know what happened after I left Jeonhan’s room. It’s like I blacked out or something.” Truth be told, you should’ve told Sihyeon everything that had happened once she woke up, but you hadn’t. Not to protect Namjoon or anything, but because Sihyeon was clearly not in the right state of mind and she was the type to overreact: drive over to all their companies and set them ablaze whilst screaming out of a megaphone – overreact. She needed to heal and not stress over your troubles which only seemed to worsen as time went on. Jeonhan had contacted Siheyon and said he would visit when his lunch break rolled around, Sihyeon had groaned when she realized it meant he would see her without makeup.

           “Sihyeon, you’re in a hospital. I’m sure he isn’t expecting you to look like a supermodel or anything.” You rationalized as you braided her hair, she had begged you to claim it ‘looks like a rat’s nest.’ Some color had finally returned to her cheeks and the doctors had said that once the alcohol level in her blood had dropped, she could return home. There had been some judgment on their faces when they noticed her appearance but had quickly changed their expression when you pulled out Jeonhan’s black credit card. There isn’t a thing money can’t buy, well except for love. Sihyeon had received top-notch care and had even been placed in a private hospital room instead of the beds down in the emergency wing. “I hope he doesn’t think this happens all the time. He knows I don’t drink a lot.” Sihyeon played with her fingers anxiously, in her line of work opinions and reputation were everything. If Jeonhan grew bored he could toss her aside and simply find a new sugar baby to satisfy his needs, Sihyeon was beautiful so it's not like she would have trouble finding someone else to maintain her but Jeonhan was her favorite thus far. “Of course, he does. Don’t stress just don’t tell him about the alcohol poisoning and say he tired you out so much you passed out. That’ll boost his ego.” He might not entirely believe her, but it wouldn’t matter. “I’ll keep the doctors out of the room, okay?” You finished up her braid and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Thank you, [Y/n]. You’re the best.”

           A knock on the door caused you to help Sihyeon adjust her gown before speaking out, “Come in.” When you had first met Jeonhan you hadn’t been too sure of him, the man looked disinterested in just about everything. All of that changed whenever he looked at Sihyeon his eyes would fill with joy as he stared at her, the same happened when he walked into the hospital room. The man headed straight for Sihyeon taking in her appearance, before placing a rather large bouquet in her hands. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Nicknames were a must, Sihyeon had once told you first names were too intimate. That’s why it always surprised her when that was all the men would call you by unless you were in trouble. “[Y/n].” A raspy voice spoke out and you turned back to the door to find Yoongi standing there. Jeonhan finally acknowledges your presence, more like nodded at you and turned back to Sihyeon. “Yoongi-hyung and I were supposed to have lunch, but I wanted to see you.” Sihyeon giggled in childish glee. A part of you finding their interaction sweet, while the other part of you knew it was all pretending.

           You had been so wrapped up in the two ‘lovebirds’ sitting on the bed, you failed to notice Yoongi had approached you until he grasped your hand. “Can I speak with you?” Yoongi was never awkward and always had a mask of nonchalance present on his face, now he was the complete opposite. Yoongi seemed fidgety and uncomfortable, in his eyes you saw deep frustration and desperation. “Fine.” You excused yourself from the room, going out into the hall waiting for Yoongi to join you. Instead of stopping right beside you, he kept walking heading towards the end of the hall. You debated on whether to follow him before deciding it was best to get these things over with. It was when you passed a phlebotomist pushing a trolley filled with needles that you remembered. How long has he been clean for? Yoongi had begun rehab right before you had parted ways with them, that would explain his behavior. A pang of guilt hit you as you finally met up with him. He still looked the same though the bags under his eyes were more prominent and he seemed more on edge; either cause of the drugs or you. Maybe both.

           “How have you been Yoongi?” He simply snickered at your question, his tone entirely sardonic. “How do you think I’ve been?” Despite being an addict, Yoongi always looked impeccable. Even now when he seemed to be at a breaking point, he still managed to exude power. “I’m sorry Yoongi.” You were sorry, you hadn’t been the cause of his problems, but you had contributed to them in some way. Yoongi simply stared at you intensely before he swooped down pressing his lips against yours. Your first instinct was to pull away, you couldn’t once you tasted the salty tears on your lips. Yoongi kissed you for another minute until he finally pulled back, the tears had stopped but his eyes were swollen and red. “You said you would never leave me and you did [Y/n].” It was as if someone had plunged a knife straight into his heart. “I couldn’t stay when me being near you was making you worse.” Yoongi had taken a hold of your arms and was shaking violently. “So what you use me and get to toss me aside when you don’t want me?! I won’t let you.” The melancholy in his eyes had been replaced by wrath, his hands digging into your skin too harshly you knew there would be bruises. “If you don’t come back to me, to us. I’ll make sure everyone finds out the kind of person you are and not just you, I ruin Sihyeon’s life as well. No one wants to be dating a whore and I’m sure Jeonhan will drop her the moment he finds out everything.”

           Finds out what? You frowned and there was confusion evident on your face, at which Yoongi only smirked. He leaned into your ear and whispered what it is he had against Sihyeon, your eyes widening in fear. “Unless you want to drag your friend down to where you are, you do well to remember your place.” He released you and quickly walked away, leaving you to spiral in the corner of the hall. Your life was falling apart bit by bit and there was nothing you could do about it. A dry heave left you as Yoongi’s frame slowly got smaller and smaller. You glanced around until you noticed a bathroom sign only a few feet away, you practically ran to it. Closing the door behind you and locking it, you stared at the mirror. Your face was devoid of color, eyes wide and fearful, you hadn’t realized you were crying until you saw the tear streaks down your face. Hesitantly you took off your sweater only to see large hand marks on your biceps, where Yoongi had grabbed you.

_Seven Months Ago_

Yoongi was always careless with his strength leaving your body riddled with bruises and tonight would be no different. You were thankful that winter had rolled around, and that wearing scarves or turtlenecks was acceptable, as he was sure to leave a large bruise on your neck with the amount of pressure he was applying. The two of you were naked on top of his custom queen bed, the headboard crashing against the wall mimicking Yoongi’s thumping into your core. You moaned his name which only served to encourage him more, his pace becoming quicker. “Y-yoongi p-please.” The man had spent all afternoon teasing you, taking you to the edge only to never allow you the bliss of coming undone. “Fuck. Do you know what you do to me? You’re better than anything out there [Y/n].” Yoongi was beyond high, his pupils completely dilated and pulse racing. A part of you knew it couldn’t be weed that he was on, but you knew better than to question it. What Yoongi did with his life was his business, you knew your place. “Fuck [Y/n]. Where do you belong? Who do you belong to?” At this point the two of you had become completely erratic, biting and scratching at each other in the name of lust.

When you didn’t immediately reply Yoongi applied more pressure on your throat, making it difficult to breathe properly. “I belong to you Yoongi. I belong underneath you.” He wasn’t satisfied. Yoongi raised your leg placing it on his shoulder and began to grind against you from a new angle, one where he was constantly hitting your g-spot. “Who do you belong to?” A guttural groan exited his lips, as Yoongi tried his hardest not to come. Not until he was sure you knew the answer. “Yoongi, S-seokjin, Hobi, Namjoon, Jimin, Kookie, and Taehyung.” The names escaped your lips as a mantra of sorts, your abdomen beginning to tighten once again. “Yoongi.” You whined, he silenced you with a kiss. “Come with me. You can come, baby girl.”

_Present_

           “Hello? Miss? Is everything alright?” The pounding on the door awakened you from your thoughts. Splashing some water on your face, you pull a smile on your face and exit the bathroom. A concerned nurse standing in front of you, you apologize and head back into Sihyeon’s room finding her alone toying with the flowers on her lap. “Where did you go to?” She asked, a smile on her face. Jeonhan made her happy, you had never seen her as happy with any other client of hers. “I spoke with Yoongi and went to the bathroom. Sorry, I took long.” You shrugged, trying to hide the uneasiness in your voice. “Nah don’t worry. I’m glad the two of you are still friends since you broke up.” You hummed in agreeance and chose to walk over to the chair left of the hospital bed. The moment you sat down all of your muscles relaxed, it felt as if you had run a marathon. Your legs as heavy as lead and your heart even heavier. “Oh, that reminds me Jeonhan said Yoongi forgot to give this to you.” Sihyeon produced your phone from under the flowers, it was exactly as you had left it the night before. “How did Yoongi even have your phone?” You struggled to get the words out, “I accidentally left it when I met Seokjin.” Sihyeon frowned, “Didn’t we talk on the phone last night?” Oh, so that you remember. “I was still with Seokjin when you called. I left in such a hurry, I must’ve forgotten it.” You smiled sheepishly. Sihyeon seemed doubtful but decided to leave it at that.

           The best thing about Sihyeon was she didn’t hover. That’s why she had been the perfect roommate when you suddenly had to move apartments. She had never questioned why you did what you did or how you ended up finding out she had the same ‘profession’ as you. Sihyeon never commented on the paranoia that hung on your shoulders. All she asked is who you had been involved with and displayed recognition upon learning you were the girl who swept ‘the seven’ off their feet. You had waited until Sihyeon drifted off to sleep, to examine your phone. The device was off, so you pressed the power button and waited until your lock screen popped up being horrified when it did. A picture of you decked out in lingerie smiling back at you. Immediately you opened up the gallery only to find similar pictures and even more proactive ones; hundreds flooding the storage space. You looked back at the lock screen picture, analyzing it trying to remember when or who took them. The hardwood floor underneath something you immediately recognized, along with the fuzzy carpet you laid on. Once the phone established a connection again, a text message came in from none other than the photographer himself.

Jeon Jungkook: Let’s talk.

[saelwen]

Maedhros x Albino!Human!Reader Part 2

Maedhros x Albino!Human!Reader

Part One

Request by a lovely anon

How about a one shot of a albino reader with elf or valar of your choice because I can’t decide, there was so many choices and I like your writings.

Masterlist

Summary: You are an albino human, who is a healer. After picking up some herbs in the forest, you were met by a tall stranger in front of your home.

Warnings: FLUFF

Words: 1,400

After that beautiful cold night, you and Maedhros had begun courting. The elven King had taken you to his Kingdom, where you had built a massive store for your teas and potions.

When Maedhros had returned to the palace from his secret trips, everyone was shocked to see a pure white human girl with violet eyes follow him closely. The servants whispered horrible things about you as you passed by them, hearing them saying that you had put an evil spell on their King. You would only smile at them and continue with your daily life, ignoring their lies. You aren’t scared of what people thought of your and Maedhro's relationship but you were scared of his brothers' wrath.

The first time you met them was your second week in the palace. The seven brothers had traveled all week when they heard that their older brother had taken a human girl to his kingdom and on top of that, he was courting her.  

You remember the nerves you felt when the massive doors of the throne room open, reveling seven Noldor princes. Their faces were neutral except one, Caranthir, who was looking at you a fierce glare. Throwing you sharp daggers. The rest of the brothers were calm but you could sense nerves hovering the air.

“Really?! A human?!.... Brother, I think you could do better than that pale thing over there!” Caranthir was the first to talk, his harsh words sting a little.

“Do not disrespect my Lady in mine or anyone else presence, little brother!...or else it will be consequences.” Maedhros’s voice was deep and calm but there was a touch of warning in it, making his younger brother roll his eyes and huff.

Maglor took a step forward and bow his head towards you, a small smile on his pale lips. “It’s an honor to meet you, my Lady!” he said gently. His younger brothers, the twins, follow right behind him. Greeting you politely.

You nod and smile softly. “It’s a great honor to meet you all, Yours Graces! Your brother has talked a lot about you,” you said to all of them, seeing in the corner of your eye Maedhros smiling proudly at you. He knew how nervous you were to meet his brothers and he was proud seeing you pushing away your fear and greet them with your head high.

Curufin looks to his older brother and frowns deeply. “What about the oath?... Do you wish to drag your Lady to our problems?” he said calmly.

Maedhros sigh and close his eyes, putting his hand on his head. “The oath is our problem... and I will verify that none of our problems come to Y/n,” he said firmly.

They all nod and walk to their chambers, leaving you and Maedhros alone all day which you took advantage of to go for a walk in the garden with him. Stealing gently kisses to one another.  

As the year has passed, you had become really close to Maedhros’s brothers. Maglor and the twins were the easiest to talk, always cheerful and happy to see you. Celegorm and Curufin were a bit hard but after a few months, they had warm up to you. Celegorm even had offered to teach you to hunt but Meadhros refused, saying that he wouldn’t put you at any risk.

Caranthir was another tale. He would usually stay away from you but his grey eyes were always fixed on you, studying every movement. But one day, as you were strolling in the garden alone. Happy to feel the cold wind hitting in your pale skin. Two elves come to you, their faces wrinkled with their frowns.

“What did you do to our King, Witch?!” one of them said while giving you a strong push, making you take a step back.

“W..What do you want from me?” you said, your body quivering in fear.

As the other elf was about to give you another push, Caranthir jump out of nowhere. The elves faces paled and they took a step back, bowing their heads to their Prince.

“Lift your filthy hands again towards my sister and it will be the last time that you will have hands!” his words were full of venom, making the two elves yelp in fear and run away.

He turns to you and gave you a small smirk which you return him a bright smile. You two become almost inseparable since that day, he was always saying that it was his dream to have a sister.

When you and Maedhros made a year of courting, he had taken you to a night stroll in the gardens. The moonlight bathes the beautiful garden which made it look magical, something that had come out from a fairytale.

“It’s a lovely night!” you said while sniffing one flower, humming in pleasure at the sweet smell of the beautiful plant.

“Yes, it is, Meleth nin.” Meadhros’s voice was full of love and passion, his beautiful grey eyes fixed on your form. “I can’t believe that it has passed a year since I've met you... and my love for you only grew,” he said with a soft voice, his eyes glowing with the moonlight.

You turn to him and smile, cupping his cheek gently. “I also can’t believe it but here we are...in love and happy,” you whisper quietly, pulling him into a passionate kiss which he gladly returns.

He pulls back and rests his forehead on yours, smiling nervously. “I’m not good with this kind of stuff and I think I will never be but...” he took a deep breath and pull a small velvet black box from his pocket. “I’ve loved you since I saw you coming out of that forest with a basket full of herbs...the only thing I could see was your pale chin and your rosy lips.” he chuckles a little and open the box, showing you the beautiful ring. It was simple but well crafted, with a small white diamond shining with the moonlight. “Y/n...Will you marry me?” as you hear his words, you jump to him. Saying yes over and over and over again, tears running down your eyes freely.

You two married the week after, wanting to be husband and wife as quick as possible. The wedding was small and only your closest friends were invited along with Meadhros’s brothers.

It was a beautiful day, the sun shining high in the sky and Maedhros had ordered to build a large tent for you to stay protected from the sun. During the ceremony, Maedhros’s brothers were a sobbing mess which made you giggle.  

Your thoughts were interrupted by the excited squeal of your five-year-old little girl running to you. “NANA!!... Help me! Uncle Caranthir is going to eat me!” she squeals as she climbs to your lap.

Lilith was born a year after the wedding. She was so small when she was born that you and Meadhros were worried that she would fell sick and die but she was stronger than you two had thought. Lilith had her father's hair and skin but she had your violet eyes and nose, making her true elvish beauty.

“Don’t worry, my love! I will protect you!” you said while shielding her from Caranthir, who was walking towards you two with a warm smile. Behind him was your beloved husband, who was smiling proudly to his daughter. He sat beside you and gave you and Lilith a soft kiss.

“Ada!” Lilith said cheerfully, jumping to her father’s lap. She wraps her little arms around his neck and cuddles to his chest.

Maedhros smile softly and rubs his large hands up and down on her small back, kissing gently her red hair. “Have you been good to your uncle, Lilith?” he asked with a teasing voice, seeing her giggle mischief.

“Yes!....we had prank uncle Celegorm and Uncle Curufin! We filled their wardrobe with ladies' clothes!” she said while giggling madly, making you both smile and roll your eyes.

Caranthir shrug and smirks. “You should have seen their faces,” he said while laughing.

You three stay the rest of the playing in the garden, playing hide and seek with Lilith.  

Never in your all life, you had thought that you could be this happy, to have a family of your own and a beautiful elven King to love you.

Hey Guys!!! So here is part two of Maedhros one shot!! I hope you like it and feel free to comment and tell me what you think!

XOXO

[an-ambivalent]

Hi, can i request a scenario? It's okay if you don't do it :) Can you make depressed and lonely yandere! Artist! Tae falling in love with his s/o? Thank you :")

Hello! Sorry this took ages, and this turned out to be quite different to what I thought of writing it as, or you requested. Sorry about that :’D I hope you still like this though! 

This is very slightly loosely based off Barbie as Rapunzel 

Warning: As this  contains yandere themes, the characters display behaviors that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not believe any of the mentioned members would display any sort of this behaviour irl, nor do I condone this sort of behaviour.

Pairings: Yandere! Taehyung x Reader | Yoonji x Reader

Word Count: 4.9K

Xanadu Of Strokes

Art was a peculiar thing – it was such a broad term that held significant meaning and value to many. But at the same time, it was also perceived as an insignificant subject with no worth, and seen as a complete waste of time. One person may believe that art is mere sketching, while most tend to have a general understanding that it included painting, music, writing, dancing and more – it was a vast definition that was limited only by one’s imagination; art was a self expression that allowed one to explore the darkest version of themselves, and express that secretive dark self of them through symbols, words, and actions without fearing judgement. 

Taehyung  was someone who held art dearly to his heart. To him, art was as essential as breathing – it meant everything to him. Art was his only means of expressing himself in the life where he was allowed to show no emotion. Similarly, in the life where he had little to no freedom, and no means of leaving the four walls that constantly confined him, a single paint brush was his only means of escape. 

It was exhilarating – to be able to escape into the world of his own creation and be the most respected and powerful person. It was a facade fictional ideal he used to cope with the powerlessness he could likely never overcome in this current reality. He was all but a simple man who had been kept captive for as long as he could remember. In a gigantic and tall tower that loomed over everything in the middle of nowhere, where he had been cut off from the outside his entire life, his capturer Min Yoonji,  had kept his freedom limited to one room. Miss. Yoonji had claimed that it was too dangerous for someone like Taehyung to be outside, that his being and what he had to offer, was too good for anyone except for her to see. 

For some strange reason, she had a weird obsession with his hair. While he did not mind, Taehyung found it strange how she always forced him to keep his hair one specific length – never shorter or longer than its current length. Each day, morning and night, she would run her fingers through his soft locks, wash it in a specific way, talk about how beautiful it was, and how it was going to be the big break she needed to finally make her mark in the world. She treated his hair as if it was cultivating some sort of magic. 

Unbeknownst to Taehyung, his hair was magical. Yoonji was an obsessive aspiring fashion designer. Each time she crafted an outfit and integrated a lock of Taehyung’s hair in her designed outfits, they would become engulfed in white light before quickly transforming and taking a life of their own. She eagerly looked forward to the day when she would complete her fashion line, and release her unique clothes into the world. 

Presently, Taehyung had finished another painting with his one and only brush. Just like what painting and his own art to mean, the brush he used felt like it was his life line. Ever since he found it, Taehyung made sure to keep this brush his own secret and hidden away from Yoonji at all costs – it was his only ticket to getaway in order to keep himself sane. Not to mention, the brush painted whatever Taehyung  imagined as an actual artwork, and it was artwork that lived and breathed. 

Taehyung made it a habit to paint only cities or certain places with intricate details. That way, he could visit the cities he had created, and its’ people in it. He was able to experience the world of his creations taking on their life, and relish in the world where he was not a powerless isolated human, but where he had all the power. 

One thing that Taehyung failed to realize was that his “hobby” of going into his paintings that he created was something that was beginning to develop into an obsession. Especially since the more time he spent in his paintings, which increased with each visit, a part of his soul was left behind in the world of his artwork. This would continue to be so until his whole soul would solely exist in that fantasy realm, and he could no longer return to his reality. 

Out of all the world’s he had painted, and by extension, visited, Xanadu was his favourite. It was where people were at their loviest, art was at its finest, etiquette was its richest, and him, Kim Taehyung, was the strongest. 

People bowed at his feet, and worshiped him for he was their God, their ruler; it was only in this world that his talent as an artist was acknowledged. Everyone appreciated his artworks as blessings the way they should, and would kill to have him paint for them. 

But most importantly, it was the world where his most beloved, who he treasured more than his brush, lived. The world where his most beautiful, and his favourite piece he had ever created breathed.

You were the main reason Taehyung spent hours upon hours locked in Xanadu, and spent enough time that he was beginning to lose his soul. 

Like he always did during this time of the day, Taehyung walked towards one of the walls in his room. A big, loose, rusty red and gold cloth was draped on the wall to hide the world that laid behind; Xanadu. 

With the back of his hand, Taehyung moved the cloth aside. His eyes that were usually lacking of interest and life, glowed with a lustrous wonder and excitement. His heart-shaped lips stretched into a wide grin. With much practice now by his side, he had become accustomed to travelling between fantasy and reality. 

Eyebags that had appeared underneath his eyes were much more prominent than they had been ever before. It was a sign that indicated how he was close to losing the last few fragments of his soul. For a mere second, his eyes glistened a dangerous and chilling blue. It disappeared as soon as it had appeared, and Taehyung allowed his hand to be absorbed into the painting, before his whole body slipped into it. 

The moment Taehyung entered Xanadu, a bright light glowed throughout his entire body. His shabby appearance which consisted of being dressed in a huge, baggy, and poor-quality robe that reached his ankles, and a white loose and baggy pants underneath it, morphed into a gold tux that radiated extravagance. There were white cuffs near the end of the sleeves towards the hands, and they folded inwards. His appearance, apart from his hair, which was usually unkempt, glistened with life and glowed. Lastly, unlike how his hair was more on the longer side in reality, in Xanadu, it was shorter, and hence easier to deal with. 

Whenever Taehyung entered Xanadu, he always landed in the same area: a small clearing field off of an alley, which was off the main street of Xanadu. As he was the only person who left and entered this world, he was the only one who knew of this. Taehyung’s mahogany eyes ran over his attire of today, and he soothed down his tux. He patted the inner breast pocket of his tux, and when he felt his treasured brush, the corner of his lips twitched upward in a satisfied smirk. 

Walking out of the grass, and the alley leading from the clearing to the main streets, Taehyung kept himself hidden in the overcasting shadows of the alley. Once he saw the opportunity, Taehyung entered amongst the strolling civilians of Xanadu, who roamed the streets for various purposes. 

The common attire worn in Xanadu consisted of clothes that one would categorize as formal in his reality. For this reason, Taehyung did not stand out with the way he chose to dress. It was not until he walked on the familiar path that led to his abode in this world, passing by people who he was acquainted with, did the word float around that their master had arrived to bestow them. 

As Taehyung walked past Miss Camila’s fruit store, the petite older female waved at him with a wide smile, and he returned her gesture with just as much friendliness.  This sudden exchange between the two caused the customers in her immensely busy store to turn towards the direction of her wave. 

They gasped when they noticed it was the notorious artist. Not wanting to be in their line of sight more than necessary, Taehyung continued on his way. As he passed more locals, and spared a few seconds of his precious time to greet them, onlookers ended up halting in the midst of what they were doing simply to gawk at his brilliance. 

When he had first started to visit Xanadu, and then later, begin travelling down this road to this actual home, Taehyung was more than happy to stop and entertain NPC’s and invest his entire time with them. However, now, he did not want to spare even a single more second than necessary – if any. This was because the more time he would give to them, meant the less time he had with you. Especially with Yoonji breathing down his neck on the other side. He could not even begin to imagine what she would do if she found him missing, and learned about the fat that Taehyung was able to escape, or what his brush could do. 

It was not long until after a few turns to the left and right, away from the main crowds and towards the secluded area where there was almost no one, that Taehyung reached his desired destination. 

His home he stood before was small, composed of mahogany brown wood. The windows were visible at the exterior of the house and the entrance door was painted white. The roof was dirty green, and next to the steps that led to the entrance, were vast types of flowers and plants. The darker hue of brown, and dirty green contrasted well against the darker leaves, lighter brown branches of trees that surrounded his home; it appeared to be quite cozy. 

Taehyung walked up the steps of his abode, unlocked the front door, and stepped in. Then, he gave the premises around his home one last glance to make sure no one had seen him enter it, before he closed the door. He shrugged off the coat of his tux and hung it on the coat holder. Then, he proceeded to walk through the living room, up a flight of stairs, before he unlocked a room and entered it. In that room, on the large king-sized bed that was in the middle of the lavish room, laid a woman, whom’s arms and legs were tied to the bed with soft crimson silk. 

As Taehyung moved closer to the bed, his lips were beginning to stretch into a fond smile. He was finally here. After so long, he could finally see, touch, and be happy with his beloved once again. 

Whether it was something he had not realized, or knew but chose to ignore for the sake of it, but what Taehyung did to you, was exactly what Yoonji did to him which he despised her for immensely. He stripped you off your freedom and caged you as his captive. That was all good though because unlike Taehyung, you were not real. You existed as his creation and therefore, for him. There was no need for you to be your own person, or have your own life when you could just exist for Taehyung, and to keep him satisfied. 

Your eyes, tired and filled with desperate need, fluttered open as Taehyung sat by you, and gently brushed his fingers against the soft skin of your skin, to inform you of his arrival. 

“Time to wake up sweetheart, I’m finally here. I’m sorry I took longer than last time. I tried to be as fast as I could, I’m sorry that I barely only made it when you’re on the verge of dying from starvation and dehydration. I promise I’ll be faster next time. Here have some water first,” Taehyung murmured, as he held out a glass to you. Conditioned to be obedient to his every word, you obliged and started to slowly slip the water instantly. Then, after another glass of water, he started to feed you some bread. You ate it without any complaints, or putting up a struggle. 

See, since long time ago, you learned your lesson the hard way and now knew that it was best to let Taehyung do whatever he wanted, and allow him to have his way. The consequences of struggling against him, when he would always be granted to be the victor, was not worth it. Besides, like he had mentioned, you were literally on the brink of death. And so, the only thing that mattered to you right now was having access to water so it would not feel like you were living in a dry desert in your own body, and to have food in your stomach so you would not feel so utterly weak and sick. 

Frankly speaking, your situation was horrendous. But to Taehyung, it was delusionally perfect and something that was the best for you both. You did not know why he did this, or why he felt the way he did, but Taehyung wanted to do everything for you. Feeding you, changing you, washing you, and everything else – nothing was an exception to this rule. With his smothering presence that breathed down your neck every second of the day, you had absolutely no privacy. He treated you as if you were an incompetent baby, and he was the overbearing parent who could not help but spoil you to the point where he literally did do everything for you. 

Initially, such loss of your own autonomy was downright humiliating for you. You had never been forced into such confinement from someone as controlling as Taehyung before, who left you feeling completely helpless and powerless. You desperately wished there would be way you could rescue yourself, or have someone rescue from the devil’s clutches that belonged to Kim Taehyung. 

It was ironic really – Taehyung believed that the people of Xanadu respected him and worshiped him because he claimed to be the creator of some sort and it was out of their love for him. However, that was not the case. Everyone seemingly kissed the ground he walked on out of fear, and because they had to. Your ruler had heard from other cities that no longer existed about what happened to them when they refused to bow before the outsider in gold who claimed to be their creator. In anger, with the aid of the brush of creation by his side, he had annihilated their entire civilizations. Now, Xanadu, had no choice but to entertain his delusional ideas,  and for your own sake, and your people’s, you were the one who had it the worst and had to go along with all of his schemes, and at the cost of your entire life, entertain his sick ideas of love. 

It disgusted you to your core. Especially the thought of how an outsider from the other side could have gotten their hands on the brush of creation, travel to your world, claim it to be their creation, and continue to travel to this side and be willing to lose their soul in order to do so – it was all too much to think about, and even revolting at some point. 

You just wished Taehyung could disappear so you and other inhabitants of Xanadu could live in peace and with your freedom once again. 

“You’re such a good girl for me,” Taehyung murmured, his eyes eerily wide, as he petted your head in approval. Then, abruptly, he leaned down and licked some of the crumbs that were on the corner of your lips. It took your entire will-power to not grimace as he did this. 

Shortly after, Taehyung moved away from you, and gave you a sweet smile. If it was not for everything he had done to you, you would have actually found it sweet, and maybe cute. But after being forced to dance with this devil and getting burned, you knew it was anything but sweet or cute. 

“You’ve been really strong and good by patiently waiting for me the entire last few days and doing exactly what I say. You definitely deserve a reward for your current behaviour. Now, before I do this, I’m going to explain a few things, and if you fail to listen to me you will pay the price. Do I make myself clear?” He enquired, and you mindlessly nodded. Although, in the pit of your stomach, butterflies churned in an uncomfortable way that filled you with anxiety, and made you want to puke.  After all, who knows what sort of revolting things Taehyung considered a ‘reward.’ 

“I’m going to untie your bindings and let you roam around in the house,” He started, and your eyes widened in surprise. Almost instantly, a grin started to form on your lips. You were unable to control your reaction, and as this happened, Taehyung narrowed his eyes at you because you had never smiled like that for him. 

“And I’ll be leaving you to your own devices for a bit while I go and buy something for a special time together since it’s been a while since we’ve done anything together. While I’m gone, and I leave you alone, do you promise to stay within your limits? No attempting to runaway, hurt yourself, or make a plan to hurt me. Can I trust you to do that?” Taehyung asked, his voice etched with caution. 

You were having a difficult time grasping the fact that he was going to allow you to have freedom. Not wanting to let such a rare opportunity slip from your hands, you nodded. 

He was hesitant for a few seconds, before he sighed, and eventually reached out to untie the harshly binding silk cloth. As his fingers brushed against your bruised wrists, you held your breath in anticipation. He intertwined his finger in the cloth, before his movements halted, and his eyes averted to yours. He gazed into your eyes with an intense gaze, and promises of danger swam in his mahogany coloured irises. 

“I’ll remind you in case you forget. Remember, the fate of your entire country rests in your hands. You make one wrong move, you do one thing that aggravates me, and I’ll make sure no one else exists in this country anymore. No one else but us. As much as it hurts me to say this,  you don’t want that do you?” He said posing a looming threat over you with his words. 

You inwardly winced. 

“N-No,” You responded, and looked down towards your body in order to avoid Taehyung’s gaze. 

Taehyung nodded in approval. 

“Good, then make sure to keep up your good behaviour,” He said, before he untied all of your bindings. Afterwards, he leaned closer to you, and kissed you forcefully, and for longer than you would have liked him to. However, with freedom finally being just at the tip of your fingertips, you knew better than to mess up now. 

Once Taehyung pulled away, his cheeks feeling hot, he gave you one last grin, before getting up, and making his way out of your room, and out of the house. 

“I’ll see you soon my love,” He said, and walked out. 

Even after the sound of the front door being shut and locked resonated throughout the household, signalling that Taehyung had left, you remained seated on the bed. You were lost in your thoughts due to still being unable to grasp the fact that you were not tied up like a caged dog anymore. It wasn’t until the noise of your bedroom’s door knob being fiddled with in an attempt to open it reached your ears were you forced out of your train of thoughts. 

Your eyes widened because what? You lived alone the majority of the time, and had been for who knows how long due to your captivity. The only person who visited you was Taehyung, and always in utter desperation to see you, he would just walk in straight away. Fiddling with the door knob was NOT his style which only meant one thing… Someone was breaking in. 

Did that… did that mean they were going to hurt you? 

You did not get a chance to ponder on this because the door was kicked open harshly, and someone who looked oddly familiar, but you could never recall ever meeting her, strolled in. 

She had straight hair that ended at her neck and looked to be quite soft and silky. Her bangs ended just past her eyebrows. She wore a full sleeve white ruffle top, and on top of her top, a brown leather waist cincher hugged her waist. You noticed how unlike waist cincher that inhabitants often wore, her’s had locks of hair woven into it. She wore baggy dark brown pants, and long brown leather boots that reached just beneath her knees. Lastly, she wore fingerless gloves, and there were a variety of weapons attached to her hip: two daggers, a gun, and a sword. It was as if she was on a mission to haunt somebody. 

All to soon, her eyes shifted to your quivering form. There was a dangerous aura of a predator radiating off her. Cautiously, her eyes scanned your figure up and down to examine if you posed as a threat in anyway. Momentarily, unbeknownst to you, her gaze focused on your wrists that were heavily bruised since you had been tied up for so long. Her eyes narrowed into a glare at that observation, before they shifted to your face. 

She felt sorry for you. 

“Out of everything, Xanadu was the last place I expected Taehyung to be hiding in. And you to be last reason I could ever imagine being his reason for escaping. I’m surprised; didn’t expect someone as sheltered as him to have such good taste,” She said, while the last sentence was muttered more to herself. At the unexpected compliment, your cheeks reddened. You didn’t give it too much thought though because at the moment, there was a bigger fish to fry. You didn’t miss out on the fact that she had said Taehyung’s name. 

Having the courage you did not know you had to voice the questions you wondered about, you spoke. 

“W-Who are you? And how do you know him? Are you here to keep an eye on me to make sure I don’t do anything while he’s gone?!“ 

Seeing the unease and worry on your face, in addition with the questions you asked, caused her to raise an eyebrow. 

“What? Me, a spy for Taehyung? Don’t make me laugh. I want him gone, permanently. I’m Min Yoonji. I would tell you about my relationship with Taehyung but you might be a spy for him,” She retorted. 

Immediately, you scoffed. 

“The last thing he would have me as would be a spy. I’m nothing but fancy decor for him – he has had me locked up for ages and has taken my entire dignity from me. I would never associate myself with a monster like him if Xanadu’s safety didn’t depend on the fact that I have to play pretend as his submissive,” You uttered bitterly, looking down at your lap. 

Yoonji’s eyes widened, and her eyes roamed to your back that was slightly exposed due to your bent position. The numerous cuts and bruises that covered it caused anger to rise in her, and she clenched her fist. 

You looked so broken, so lost, so hurt. Seeing such an expression on your face, the fact that one of her people she had failed to protect, suffered at the hands of an outsider, made her chest feel heavy in sorrow. 

She walked towards you, and went down on one knee so she would be at your eye level. Then, her hand grabbed yours, and her fingers intertwined with yours; she squeezed your hands gently yet firmly in reassurance. 

“What’s your name?” She asked, and you looked up and found yourself staring into her eyes. Unlike before, when her eyes were narrowed at you into a cold stone and apathetic stare, they were now etched with warmth. A bright shine that made you feel as if that now, you weren’t alone anymore, and that now, she would make sure everything was going to be okay, illuminated her eyes. 

“[Surname] [Name],” You answered, and noticed that there was a slight crack in your voice, and you felt like you were on the verge of crying. 

Yoonji smiled sweetly at you. 

“That’s a beautiful name. Say [Name], do you know about the prophecy?” She wondered, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“What prophecy?” 

“The prophecy of the outsider who would come to possess the brush of creation and pose a threat to the inside realm and to people like us. Just like you, I’m from Xanadu. I’m the next heir for our country, but the information about my existence was never made public. You see, I’ve been raised as a fighter, because according to the prophecy, only a royal blood who has been outside can stop the painter that seeks the destruction – who is Taehyung. Before returning home, I did my best to keep him locked up and weak in the outside world so he couldn’t come here. 

“But evidently, my plan has failed since he still somehow managed to get his hands on our brush and not only destroy other countries, but hurt you, one of my people I am meant to protect. I am deeply ashamed of my failures and for allowing you to get hurt. I don’t know if this will allow me to gain your forgiveness, but as a personal victim of Taehyung, I at least should tell you of all people. 

“I have cultivated Taehyung’s hair and woven them into many clothes which will protect us from the magic of brush. Not only that, but Taehyung’s lost his soul. So with no more spiritual energy to offer, his bond has weakened and it won’t be long before he is unable to wield the brush. He’s weakening so no matter what he tries, I will easily take him down. Then, everyone of us can be free and live our own lives without fearing Taehyung again,” Yoonji reassured smiling. You would have gasped loudly still trying to get your head around all the information Yoonji told you had it not been that you two got interrupted by the very person you both despised. 

“You must be delusional if you think I’ll just let you hurt me Yoonji,” Taehyung greeted in a hiss, and both Yoonji’s and your eyes snapped towards him. 

Your eyes widened in fear, while Yoonji stood up to her full height, and faced him standing in front of you, with her back turned towards you in order to hide you from him. Confidence oozed out of her, and although you could not see her expression, she smirked. 

“I don’t have to hurt you. The brush will hurt you for me. Your eyes are glowing blue Taehyung, you use it one more time and you’ll be gone. It would be in your best interest to give up and hand over Xanadu back to me,” Yoonji warned, as she unsheathed her sword, and prepared to duel. 

Taehyung smirked. 

“If I’m a goner, then I’m taking all of you with me, especially you [Name]. You’re mine! I won’t let anyone else have you or Xanadu. I created you so I get to decide what I do with you,” Taehyung stated, as he prepared to paint the end with the brush of creation he had in his hand. 

You whimpered, and out of fear, went to hold onto Yoonji. However, as you tried to grab onto what you would have assumed to be Yoonji’s clothes, you found yourself trying to grab onto thin air. 

You gasped when you saw Yoonji running towards Taehyung in a blinding speed, and before you even had the chance to blink, she had kicked at the back of his knees causing him to drop onto the floor. Then, she with the hilt of the sword, she hit brush of creation out of his hands, before grabbing both of his hands and twisting it behind his arm. Taehyung yelled in pain as Yoonji pushed him onto the ground. Then, she held her sword to his neck. 

“One wrong move, and I’ll kill you right here and right now,” She started in a warning. Simultaneously, she pricked his skin with the tip of her sword, causing him to hiss in pain, as miniscule amount of blood leaked out from the minor cut. 

“Kim Taehyung, you are under arrest for destroying countries and threatening the safety and peace of Xanadu,” She declared, before pausing to turn her eyes to you. 

Then finally, she said the words you would have killed to hear. 

“You’re safe and free now. I swear on my life to protect Xanadu and its’ people to make sure it stays that way.” 

________

Please share your thoughts :)

[thecardsimagine]

Of shipwrecks and seafoam

Summary: Let me tell you a story about a pirate and a merman, finding a love that goes beyond insecurities and death. Let yourself be taken away onto a journey about doubt and secrets, understanding and a bond that even goes beyond the deep blue of the ocean.

Pairing: Merman!Julian Devorak x Pirate!Reader (Nonbinary) Rating: Mature because of swearing and suggestive content Warning: Blood, Death, Killing Genre: Romance, Drama, Alternate Universe _________________________________

a/n: Please consider reading this story from the beginning first if you found this part. Just click this text to go to the Prologue!

Find all parts under the tag ‘Seaweed’ on my blog

Or read it here on AO3!

Tagging: @julians-chest-hair / @sireennotsiren

_________________________________

Epilogue

Come in, have a seat! Let me tell you a story about a pirate and a merman, finding a love that goes beyond insecurities and death. Why don't you let yourself be taken away onto a journey about doubt and secrets, understanding, and a bond that even goes beyond the deep blue of the ocean?

There once was a merman so desperate to become human, with his charms and physical strength he collected every other mermaid and merman in the ocean to create the ultimate solution for his problem. There was no means to expensive for him to take it and who didn't give him the wished-for results was mercilessly disposed of by this leader. It was hard, they needed so many human lives that they almost fell victim to their own hunger for success, until finally, a young, knowledgeable merman succeeded in creating a potion. He was celebrated and praised for his effort, and the leader who wanted to be a human so bad did not even wait for another moon to pass before he swallowed it whole.

He was gifted with two legs, a gill-free body, and looks that made the gods green of envy. But what he could not receive through this potion was the ability to be a human, and he was soon to be exposed of as nothing but an imitator by a fearless boy and the softest kind of magic, water splashing the human mermaid. Neither the merman who crafted the potion, nor the leader could have known what it would do to him, to be wet once more, but in shock and horror the people had to watch him turn back into his fish-self, screaming and screeching for help, they thought it was better to kill him than see him suffer as much.

So they brushed him with a torch, hoping his soul would be able to rest. Burning and crying, the merman crawled back to the water he had come from, a mere piece of charred coal he was as he sunk into the arms of his flock. They mourned and blamed the merman who had created the potion, putting every accusation and every fault on him. Driven with fear and guilt, the merman had no other chance but to agree to care for the leader from that day onward, restoring what could be saved from it.

But not even a full phase of the moon passed, when the leader had a request for the merman. He wanted to be human once again. And in his greed, he made the merman swear to create the best serum he could, or he would lose what little the merman had left from his family with certainty. When the merman didn't tend to the leader's wounds, he would hide away in his cave, mixing and creating potions. But none was good enough, none even came close to the miracle he had created before.

And they needed humans. So many humans. If there wasn't a need for flesh in the flock, then he took whatever he could, from a tooth to a bone. But no mixture, no separation, and no magic helped, so all he could do was continue his work alone and far away from the flock who lived their lives without a care in the ocean. His name was Julian.

One day, something clicked in the merman. As he watched the human bodies fall down from a burning, wooden monstrosity, their feet kicking as they struggled to stay alive and one after one getting tugged under the water by his peers, he realized that this was just as bad as what humans used to do to his kind a few centuries ago. Desperately, he tried to tell the other mermaids to stop, but they only looked at him as if he had gone mad, shoving him away and telling him to stop being an idiot and do what he owes to the flock.

When another human fell into the water, the shadow of a big pillar of wood falling on top of them, Julian's body reacted before he could think about his actions. As if it was destiny for those two to work together, the human ducked underwater, right into his arms and as fast as he could, without making anyone else notice, he took the human to an island he knew. It was close to his cave, but far enough from the flock and he was pleased with his doings, hoping it would end their endless consume of humans.

Julian worked hard to keep the human alive, their condition dire and in need of aid. Until they woke up for the first time, he had always been with them from morning till night. If he wanted their help later, he knew from his experiences that he needed to gain their trust. But something changed before he could receive either of these two things, something, that would change his life entirely too.

At times, he would tend to the needs of the flock and the leader, watching over the human from the safety of his water. He was so surprised when he got to see them awake for the first time, his reflex telling him to disappear. But he was too curious and eager to learn about them for his own good. For the first time, he saw a real chance in creating a serum with the help of the human, and it urged him to keep watch over them.

Seeing their struggles and how they overcame them was something he had never been able to witness before. The sheer willpower to survive though they looked like they were giving up every other minute, it captivated him. He grew some respect for the human race, something he had never had before as they were nothing more than a means to an end for his species. And without even realizing it, when he looked into their eyes for the first time, a passion started to beat inside of him like there had never been before. Something hard to describe, something incredible.

I believe you know what happened from here on out, right? The get to know each other, the realization about their feelings, the heartbreak. All those things that happened before they parted ways at the beach of the pirate's hometown, promising each other their eternal devotion. Well, this story is not another fairytale, this is just a simple story of two lives uniting as one. What happened after their separation you might ask, well, let me tell you about it.

The human, in pain and with many struggles, managed to reach their hometown, where they were welcomed with open arms. Many had feared the sinking of their ship, and they were handled like a wonder to have survived. While human doctors took care of them, they told everyone the whole story of what had happened, gave all the families the knowledge of their beloved whereabouts. Everyone was thankful for them to come back, though they also worried.

You see, these humans believed in shipwrecks, in pirates, and in canons. They did not believe in fairytales. If they had confronted the human with their doubts a few months ago, undoubtedly, they would have agreed. But now, they did not argue. Even if everyone thought they had gone mad, the human kept believing in the mermaids and especially in the merman that was waiting at the beach for their return.

And did they return, you ask? They did! Many moons had passed since they left, their body needing the time to heal. But they didn't even need to call for him, Julian was right there when they stepped into the water, the two holding each other like they never had before. Then and there, they let go of the last insecurities and doubts they had about their lives and each other, making many more promises and sharing more kisses, now that they finally could. A lot had happened, and the human was eager to tell him, presenting him with what they had done and asking if he agreed to their plans, to which he eagerly nodded.

With the help of their family and any extra hands that came to honor the pirate that had survived the shipwreck, they build a house on the beach. Small, cozy. It stood over the water, completed with a hatch for Julian, so he could come in whenever he wanted. Like in their dream, they build a dock too, and though there was no forest, they cultivated their own plants with Julian's help. With selling their vegetables, shells, and pearls - which the merman was kind enough to bring home - the two of them managed to buy a lot of books for Julian to read and survive even in the winters, cuddled together in their shared home.

A few times a year, Julian's family would come to visit, and they would cook them a feast to enjoy before sending them back home. Julian only went back to his flock two times to get some of his belongings, and he wasn't welcomed very warmly, so he stayed with the human for the rest of his life. They would swim together in the summer, eat dinner every evening and talk about everything. Sometimes they would argue, but it never was bad enough for their bond to break.

Many, many years passed that those two stayed together. Humans were wondering about the lonely elderly that lived on the beach, that would tell their children funny stories about pirates and mermaids, but they never questioned them either. Like Julian had told them so long ago, he aged with them, his hair turning grey, his eyesight growing bad. But he never stopped making them laugh and singing to them, even when his voice started to crack with every note he let out.

When his family came over for the last time, they said their goodbyes, knowing they would not find him at the house at the beach anymore if they ever returned. For the first time, his sister cried, and so did Julian. Mazelinka didn't, and he asked her to take care of his sister for him, apologizing over and over that he could not stay. Only when they had already said their farewells and swam away, the two mermaids held hands as they cried and grieved for their dying brother and son.

But when Julian returned to his home, he found his human, weakened by age, coughing his name quietly. And he got to their bed, holding their hand. "If I die, I want to be with you," they said, using all the strength they had left in them to get out of the bed. "So please, Julian, can't you take me with you?" Of course, he agreed, knowing his time with them was little and his own just as over as theirs. So, in the middle of summer, around the time they had met for the first time, many decades before, the two swam out into the ocean together for the last time. The human was barely able to hold themselves over water, so he laid them on his chest, letting them listen to his faint heartbeat, holding them like they taught him too.

"I love you, Julian. I have loved you for many years now, and I will love you for many lives more," they said. "I shall love you for for the same lives then, my dear. I can't wait to find you and hold you in the next one."

And as silent, as they had arrived at the mainland, they disappeared from it. Leaving behind a house, countless books, and some shells and pearls.

For them to never be seen again, behind the white crowns of seafoam.

[aion-rsa]

The 7 Greatest Comic Series Based on Toy Lines

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Set your nostalgia rays to the '80s. Some toy lines actually ended up as even better comic book series.

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Comic book icons and heroes have been appearing on toy shelves since the days of Captain Action and Mego. But sometimes, toys that win the hearts and minds of kids of all ages are given their own comics, allowing toy fans to see their favorite bits of plastic in action by some of the best writers and artists in comics.

Many toys have graced the pages of comics over the years, including memorable curiosities like Sectaurs, Madballs, Visionaries, Go-Bots, and so many more, but there have been a few properties that have transcended their humble plastic roots to become the stuff of comic book legend.

Here are but a sampling:

The Saga of Crystar: Crystal Warrior

Back in 1983, Marvel published Crystar, a concept they had developed specifically to sell the license to a toy manufacturer. Remco was wowed by the world Marvel had created and produced one line of figures in 1982. Marvel then followed the toys up with a comic written by Mary Jo Duffy with absolutely stunning covers by the great Michael Golden.

The toys were things of beauty, produced in translucent plastic, and the Crystal Warriors stood out on the toy shelves. Remco produced a bunch of good Crystal Warriors and an array of evil Magma people. The toy company also produced two dragons, one magma and one crystal (which is a sight to behold), a castle, and some accessories.

The story of Crystar was pretty simple: the good agents of order, the crystal warriors, faced off against the agents of chaos, the Magma people, led by Crystar’s brother, Moltar (because what else would you named the leader of the Magma people?). The world of the comic was well built and functioned within the parameters of the toys and still holds up pretty well today. Marvel must have wanted the book and toy line to succeed because there were frequent Marvel Universe guest stars in the Crystar comic including Dr. Strange, Nightcrawler (from X-Men), and Alpha Flight.

It seems that Marvel still holds the right to Crystar as the character made a cameo appearance in one of the six million Marvel Zombies series. The  property might be obscure, but as far as toy/comic tie ins go, Crystar was a (I shouldn’t) diamond in the rough (I did).

Shogun Warriors

Is there anything cooler than giant Mechs? How about giant Mechs based on an ultra-popular Japanese toy line stomping around the Marvel Universe? For two years, Marvel fans got to experience Shogun Warriors as a legitimate part of the Marvel Universe proper.

Shogun Warriors was a Mattel property that united a bunch of robot toys from Japan under the same banner. There were tons of toys and vehicles produced by Mattel, in many different sizes, but Marvel only had the license for three of the robots, Raydeen, Combattra, and Dangard Ace, piloted by an American stuntman, a Japanese test pilot, and an oceanographer from Madagascar, respectively. The humans and their Mechs had many adventures written by the great Doug Moench with pitch perfect artwork by Hulk legend Herb Trimpe.

Things took an odd turn in Shogun Warriors #16, when the Warriors’ human handlers were slaughtered by the villainous Primal One creating an odd last few issues that were kind of ponderously depressing. Marvel’s Shogun Warriors had an ignominious end, as all three Warriors were destroyed off panel by the Samurai Destroyer in the pages of Fantastic Four once Marvel lost the license.

While it lasted, the Shogun Warriors was an entertaining book that really displayed the talents of Trimpe, a man born to draw '70 eras Japanese robots, and featured luminary guest stars like Reed Richards and Tony Stark. The oddity of Marvel destroying an in-continuity property to explain a lapsed license makes Marvel’s Shogun Warriors a great point of curiosity of the Bronze Age.

He-Man and the Masters of the Universe

The original Masters of the Universe toys, produced by Mattel, came packed with mini-comics of their own. These mini-tomes fleshed out the world of He-Man and his allies and enemies, and they were just the beginning of a long standing relationship between He-Man and the world of comics.

In 1982, He-Man and the Masters of the Universe appeared in a miniseries from DC that saw He-Man dwell in a much more Robert E. Howard world. He-Man was introduced in DC Comics Presents #47 written by Paul Kupperberg and drawn by iconic Superman artist Curt Swan. With Swan on board, you know that He-Man went toe-to-toe with Superman, as the Man of Steel was mystically transported to Eternia. The special team-up introduced the world to Skeletor, Beast-Man, Teela, Man at Arms, and Battle Cat. The issue, which remains a hotly sought after back issue to this day, led into a three issue series written by Kupperberg, with art by George Tuska and Alfredo Alcala which briefly established He-Man’s world as an alternate dimension to the DC Universe. DC only published five He-Man stories in the '80s but they established the foundation for everything that would follow. 

After DC, Marvel’s Star imprint, a line of comics for young readers, tried their hand at He-Man, but the books were watered down versions of the already watered down cartoon. Marvel also featured an odd little adaptation of the 1987 Dolph Lundgren movie where all the characters looked like their toy counterparts instead of the actors that portrayed them on the big screen (except Beast Man for some reason). The property returned to the edgier roots a bit in the early 2000s series published by MV Creations before returning back to DC in recent years, which features revamped versions of the classic characters.

But those original DC books remain some of the most beloved toy comics of all time as DC really fleshed out a back story that would become the inspiration for cartoons, films, and future comics. DC was the first to give life to Mattel’s enduring line of heroes, warriors, monsters, wizards, and whatever the heck an Orko is.

Micronauts

According to legend, one Christmas, the son of comic book great Bill Mantlo opened his Christmas presents, and lo and behold, Micronauts! As Mantlo watched his son open his toys, the writer supposedly began constructing a backstory for the little metal men. At Mantlo’s request, then Marvel got the Micronauts license from Mego and the rest is history.

Like Shogun Warriors and Transformers, Micronauts were Japanese toys from a number of different toy lines joined together under one branding umbrella. The toys were cool, but unlike many toys of that era, they arrived on shelves without much of a backstory, until Mantlo came along and crafted one of the finest examples of innovative world building of the era.

Once again, Marvel incorporated Mantlo’s Micronauts into the Marvel Universe as the heroic team consisting of Acroyear, Bug, Commander Rann, Biotron, Princess Mari, and Prince Argon, took on established Marvel villains Plant Man, Psycho Mann, Dr. Doom, Molecule Man, and Hydra agents Fixer and Mentallo, plus their own adversary Baron Karza. The ‘nauts even teamed with the X-Men in an early '80s mini-series that was quite a big deal at the time. The book featured complex characters that often flipped sides between good and evil and firmly established the team as important parts of the Marvel Universe.

It was so enduring that, despite not having the Micronauts license anymore, many of the characters that Mantlo created that never had their own toy remain part of the Marvel Universe, like Bug for instance, who was a founding member of the modern Guardians of the Galaxy! Micronauts stands as one of the greatest examples of what a skilled creative team can do with toy property. Despite its simple premise, Micronauts remains one of the best executed comics of its day.

Rom, Spaceknight

The toys covered in this article all were very successful and each made their respective companies a great deal of money. That’s what’s so amazing about Rom, which had a very successful comic series that ran an amazing seven years, yet, the Rom toy arrived on toy shelves stillborn, selling only 200,000 - 300,000 units for Parker Brothers in the U.S. The toy barely survived a year, but the comic thrived and became a regular part of Marvel’s publishing schedule for the better part of the decade.

This was thanks in part to writer Bill Mantlo and artist Sal Buscema, who brought the character to life in a way that the noisy and stiff toy never could. Yes, the same writer who breathed fresh life into Micronauts, wielded the same world building magic with Rom. Rom the toy was a barely articulated hunk of plastic that made noises, Rom the comic was a richly detailed science fiction epic centered on a group of brave Space Knights taking on the evil of the vile Dire Wraiths.

Rom’s war with the Wraiths brought more than one major Marvel character into the battle and Rom was even summoned to the first Contest of Champions. Even though he didn't participate, his inclusion in Marvel’s first event book shows how important Rom was to the tapestry of the Marvel Universe in his day. The Spaceknights and the Dire Wraiths are still part of the Marvel Universe, while Rom has moved on to IDW.

Oh, and both Rom and the Micronauts are now part of Hasbro's shared movie universe that includes the Transformers, GI Joe, MASK, and others. 

Transformers

Transformers is one of those toy properties that lives in perfect symbiosis with the world of comics. The comics, first published by Marvel for a good nine years, before other companies like Dreamwave and IDW took over the license, all fueled the stories and histories of Hasbro’s Robots in Disguise.

You might think that robots that disguise themselves and vehicles would be hard to justify in any sensible plot, but one would be wrong. Writers, particularly Simon Furman for Marvel, fleshed out their world in the pages of the Transformers comics, and gave each Transformer human motivations and personalities that went hand in glove with the toys kids were consuming at an unheard of rate. As Transformers remains a huge part of the cultural consciousness, the stories and characterization of the robots continue to be fed and informed by the work Marvel did for so many years. 

Like many other Marvel licensed properties, the Transformers started as part of the Marvel Universe, with guest appearences by Spider-Man and Death’s Head (who first appeared in Transformers) but the Autobots and Decepticons were soon shunted off to their own reality. Dreamwave and IDW continue the legacy in many different forms and iterations feeding multiple generations of Transformers fanatics.

G.I. Joe: A Real America Hero

There has seemingly always been a comic called G.I. Joe on the stands in one form or another even before anyone heard the term Kung Fu Grip. From a syndicated strip from King Features in 1941, to a comic published by Ziff-Davis in set in the Korean War beginning in 1950, to two issues of DC’s Showcase published in 1964-1965. But it was in 1982 that Marvel began publishing a comic series based on Hasbro’s new line of G.I. Joe toys that the entire comic industry changed. 

Writer Larry Hama was tasked by Hasbro and Marvel to create a group of modern day soldiers with specialties, codenames, and personalities that could drive the new toy line. Hama and a host of artists also came up with adversary for his Joes; a colorful group of terrorists with a perfectly colorful array of gimmicks. This new enemy, Cobra, would come to define the modern day Joes and bring to life a story that continues to this day in toys, films, comics, and television.

The Marvel Comics series allowed these characters to grow far beyond their static plastic origins. This was no easy task, as Hasbro continued to introduce new toys that had to be inserted into the story no matter how far-fetched they might be. At the time, ninjas like Snake-Eyes and Storm Shadow became as popular as Wolverine and Spider-Man.

Many kids who grew to love comics in the '80s owe this love to G.I. Joe. Marvel even went so far as to advertise each new issue on television bringing in droves of new fans to the newsstands and into the comic shops with each animated advertisement. The G.I. Joe comic legacy continues today with multiple titles by IDW, but the original Marvel series shaped a generation of comic book lovers, making it the most important toy to comic adaptation ever published.

Read and download the Den of Geek Lost in Space Special Edition Magazine right here!

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Feature

Culture

Marc Buxton

Dec 18, 2019

G.I. Joe

Transformers

from Books https://ift.tt/2PCSa0u

[juleswolverton-hyde]

It’s November, but I still want you part 3

Genre: Drama, romance, smut (eventually), werewolf AU, art school AU

Pairing: Artist!Jimin / Werewolf!Jimin x Reader

Warning: Mention of mating and knotting, toxic relationships

Summary: A first love is always bittersweet, but this time it is perchance the hardest pill to swallow. Especially when the aftermath can still be felt years after.

In the month of November.

Author’s Note: I sincerely apologize for the long period of waiting for this fanfic to finally update or announce it is discontinued. However, as you can see, the latter does, fortunately, not apply. Henceforth, I would like to say this fic is still up and running with this chapter likely being the second-to-last one. It is time to wrap up some old projects.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (yet to be written)

Masterlist

Two autumns without sketching the falling dying leaves together, three winters without sharing warm beverages in the usual spot in the same coffee shop every day, three springs eyes beheld the fall of cherry blossom without him and three summers passed with so much as a word.

Ever since the young artist left, nobody closely connected to him has seen the lad. Classes went by unattended, fingers nervously and softly ticking a pencil against the table surface in the exact spot that would have formed the workspace of the one who walked away for the safety of the heart it hurt. However, what was not given a thought at the time, was that the flight inflicted more harm than when everything had been as of old and the night we first laid down as lovers remained cloaked in silence.

Stayed our forbidden fruit.

Even during graduation, the raven-haired creator was not there to celebrate the end of endless study hours stained with paint, charcoal and cramped digits. Not even the six guys with whom a group of brothers was formed had the knowledge concerning the whereabouts of the wolf boy. Nevertheless, something had tainted sincerity for the older ones’ attitude stirred up a deep-rooted sense of suspicion within, but it could also have meant nothing at all. Regardless of the truth, they tried to remain in contact and lighten the mood as much as possible, elevating the gloom left behind by the dear friend turned lover turned... away.

Limits were pushed too much, the warnings and pleads should have been heeded but the mind was too naive to notice the danger lurking beneath the mask of a familiar face, skin flushed with the anticipation to have fingertips grab it tightly and possessively by the small hands that had held even smaller ones throughout many sleepless nights. The animalistic behaviour that needed to be repressed was foolishly underestimated, leading us to ruin.

Jimin has never had to carry the blame for the situation because the mistake is entirely that of the individual who thought to be able to handle what clearly could not be. The mirror shows the reminder of devastating stubbornness daily, still adorning the neck in the form of two pieces of jewellery. The gift that has become the last physical memory of a beautiful moment in life. One thin bronze chain with a crescent moon pendant made of the same metal hanging from it and one chain that is a tad longer and made of a mixture between silver and gold with a handcrafted wolf pendant crafted from tiger's eye matrix.

Only once have they been forgotten, when it was the youngest among the broken band of comrades - Jungkook - who held a soul devoid of love and craving it so badly it gripped the first source of simulacrum tightly to have a taste of it again. The morning brought the shame of having used the sweet guy’s hidden sentiments portrayed by gentle kisses and careful movements between the thighs wrapped around a slim waist after coming undone twice before even starting in earnest. The whined and panted ‘I love you’s were already a vague memory when the sun rose over haphazard sheets partially concealing a thoroughly dishevelled dark bedhead and back engraved with scratches that likely caused more pain than pleasure. Nevertheless, perchance it is because of the guilt of having played a sick game with genuine emotions that the decision to stay by the youth’s side was made.

Eventually, the self-loathing blame turned to a non-sustainable yet believable form of affection reserved for lovers. Almost akin to what was only temporarily had with Jimin.

Until he, too, walked away for the same reasons.

Funny.

History repeats itself.

But not today after finding a pamphlet for an art exhibition near the marketing office where a fortunate job as a graphic designer was picked up soon after graduation, the grand opening of which is tonight. Normally, similar events would have been evaded since too many bodies occupy a space which cannot possibly handle them all at once and the gallery visited at a later date when the hype has died down enough to allow for calmly enjoying the art. However, the default course of action does not form an option in this case due to the artist presenting his piece of art.

Because it is the work of an old friend who gave two beautiful necklaces as a gift a long time ago.

A refugee lover who bound a reckless girl to him with the jewellery.

An onyx wolf to whom an apology is in order and the guilt more than justified.

Park Jimin.

The low heels of ballerinas click on the marble linoleum floor of the bare brick space after finding a sign outside pointing towards the entrance of the grand creative event, eyes wavering to the sides to observe the sketches of faceless women while also frantically searching for the grand master himself. Shreds of murmured conversation compose a rumbling radiating flood when entering the edifice, making the discovery of the wanted man that much more difficult since a familiar voice could not possibly be recognized in this chaotic mess of speakers.

The quest is halted when the gaze wanders to the side entirely, the attention of the panicked thoughts about coming in vain and being rejected from the beginning of the conversation suddenly focusing on a grand featureless portrait. To any other person, it might signify the blank canvas an individual essentially forms, smithing yet another temporary identity to go by until it loses its beauty like its predecessors and repeating the process each time. Withal, the shape of the face is undeniable and cannot be unseen as its familiarity is unavoidable.

Self-hatred, unintended hurt, past mistakes and various trips of guilt are depicted in the simple though meaningful drawing.

It is mine.

My face.

‘It’s the biggest piece of the collection. I wanted to give this person an expression yet couldn’t because I didn’t know what it should look like. Hence, I settled for this.’ The casual tone betrays not knowing who the listener is or the artist is beating around the bush because he, too, cannot handle the strangeness of the circumstances caused by a mayhaps unwelcome visitor in the way it perhaps should be.

‘Your lines are still off.’ A slim index finger points to the traced shape of the jaw, indicating inherently nothing although the turn to bad humour somehow seems a logical direction to take in the situation. Just as it has always been since it functions as a shield against overwhelming emotions. An old habit rooted in days gone by which dies hard, as those kinds of things tend to do. ‘I thought you’d gotten better at drawing by now, Park Jimin.’

‘Y/N.’ The manner of speech indicates having recognized the admirer far before the conversation even started, relieved delight mixed with agonized graveness.

The scars still hurt.

The fumbling digits reaching out brush against those of the individual who remains focused on the image in front. Eventually, they entwine with those that had to be let go after fully committing to the steadfast faith of being a wolf, but after more hesitation upon noticing the awkward gesture than had ever been the case in the past. ‘Can you look at me?’

‘I’m sorry, Chim. For everything. I push- pushed you too far.’ The burning tears slowly begin to create small brooks over the cheeks, the unoccupied hand wiping them away as the other tries to free itself in order to make an escape. A plan that already comes too late. ‘I shou- shouldn’t even be here. I have to go.’

But the fingers of the once intimately loved beloved remain strongly wrapped around the others, their counterparts coming to rest where frantic digits endeavoured to stop the water, thumb gently continuing the attempts with affectionate sweeps. Gazes meet by means of forceful albeit kind-hearted compelling, the palm on the face of an unworthy mistress turning the head to do so and fulfil the earlier disregarded request. ‘That’s not how you apologize to someone, Y/N. You’re raised knowing better.’

Jimin has changed, not only on the inside - if there has been no help in the form of therapy to drive the insane beast out - but on the outside as well. Onyx has made place for pale sandstone which resembles limestone if the light falls on it in a specific angle, paint-stained shirts and jeans are replaced by a stylish nightly black outfit of which the shirt lights up in the purplish lilac shades of twilight whenever it is illuminated directly. Of course, this style has merely been chosen to conform to the formality of the event, though there is a suspicion former characteristic clothes and their sentiments have been abandoned aside from the casual ones that were often worn during a happening like this back in college.

The past has clearly been endeavoured to be erased.

Good.

I was not the only one trying.

Nonetheless, the most obvious physical change makes eyes widen in astonishment due to the uncharacteristic feature.

Purple flowing over in sickly yellow on cheekbones, a scar marring the left side of a sympathetic expression as full lips speak so kindly in spite of the immense wrongdoing three years ago, the bottom split in the middle by a healing scarlet wound.

Hurt.

Actual clear signs of pain.

Afraid of the impact that may or may not still be felt, two small hands - the left one slipping easily from the grip weakened by oddly loving renewed feelings - languidly rise to remove those framing a face the artist idiotically seems to adore still and trace the trail of inflicted harm with a slightly opened mouth. ‘What happened?’

A spark lights up the warm dark brown gaze of the lad who was thought never to even kill a fly, moved by the concern and showing this by the tiniest hasty smile. ‘It’s alright, Y/N. Just...’ Lashes flutter shut as the gesture is leaned into, briefly forgetting whatever coverup is created to not ignite any type of worry akin to the sort that has been tainting living in general since the first and last bittersweet night together. ‘Just business... nothing... serious.’

A warm teardrop slides down the wrist enveloped by the fingers which were good-naturedly removed, the narrow surface of skin snuggled against regardless of the barely audible pained whines the motions evoke. Teeth lightly grazing over the surface, just tangible enough to send shivers down the spine in a paradoxical mixture of pleasure and worry about the wolfish behaviour that essentially drove us apart. Furthermore, what circumstances could have asked for bodily harm, form the root for obvious pain? ‘Jimin, what’s going on? Talk to me.’

You never fought, bodily nor verbally. Did you get beat up? What happened to you? On the other hand, we both changed and know nothing anymore. Notwithstanding, just tell me. Tell me what caused this, what took place and of which the visible aftermath is so damn painful to witness without knowing the background.

The soft kiss on the pulse evokes a hitched breath, astonished by the blatant display of wishing for intimacy once more even though it brought nothing but misfortune in the past. ‘I still want you. I wish... I wish you could stay.’ The last word is a mere whisper, only audible to the ears of the listener and the speaker in the ocean of murmurs. ‘Stay with me, be mine again.’

More tears roll down the smooth skin of the forearm before watery solemn dark irises quickly turn from the former point of focus to two staring in wonder when the wrist manages to slip from the novel fairly firm hold, having made use of the temporary weak spot caused by sadness. Fast as lightning hands pull the artist into a tight embrace at seeing a quivering pillowy bottom lip, determined to keep the sobs dimmed as much as possible and to not lose face to any potential buyers or investors.

‘Don’t cry, Chim. You’re not at fault, never have been. You were right to walk away and I’m not even mad at you for doing it. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.’ Kindly, bleak sandy locks are affectionately stroked while nuzzling the old lover’s warm neck, growing drowsy, no, getting hypnotized by the heat radiating from the body still built like a dancer’s and the musky alluring scent containing hints of turpentine and summer flowers. ‘As I said, I pushed you too much and should’ve listened. But I didn’t. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’

The hug tightens, star-crossed lovers holding on to one another as if the only way to stay afloat in the turbulent sea of life is by clinging to the buoy in the shape of the other beloved.

And just for a split second, all seems well. Exactly like the old days, filled with hope for a future together.

However, the girl who ruined everything might as well drown in spite of the lifeline because the blonde lad lets go too soon, arms untangling and keeping the adored soul at bay by creating a new distance with shaking hands, just enough not to touch directly. The voice has gained a ghastly tone, speaking as if this time the farewell is permanent. ‘Let’s agree to disagree.’

A foot sweeps uncertainly over the alabaster marbled linoleum, acting as if removing a stain on it as locked gazes are briefly broken up while a hand combs through the strands that were lovingly caressed a split second ago. Withal, like is the case with the entire body, they shortly find each other again afterwards. ‘I really wish we could have a second chance, Y/N.’

‘If- If you want, we can still-’

A solitary head shake cuts off the desperate argument that was about to be given, nullifying every spark of hope which had collected and started a grand bright foolish fire within. ‘We can’t. You’re better off without me. Vice versa it’s not the case, but even though I still long for you, I know that a part of loving you comes with sacrifice and the desire for you to be happy.’

‘I was with you! In fact, I was the most cheery whenever we went out to the park to draw the flowers in the flowerbed or to the coffee shop. The most restful nights were those when you were lying beside me. Now, all that remains of those beautiful moments are these.’ Fingers clearly display the thin bronze chain with a crescent moon pendant and one that is a tad longer and made of a mixture between silver and gold with a tiger's eye matrix wolf pendant. ‘A daily reminder of what we had. Of you.’

A melancholic grin carves itself onto full plush roseate lips, an almost invisible nod acknowledging the meaning behind the jewellery which clearly does not add any convincing nor credible reason to change a stubborn mind set on its own opinion. ‘You still have them. I’m glad because I thought you’d have thrown them away. Or, if not you... never mind, I don’t want to think about that.’

‘Think about what? Jimin, you’re not making any sense. The last time you spoke in riddles, there was clearly something going on.’ The old Self awakens, having pushed aside the pathetic contemporary ego out of the overwhelming determination to not let things remain unresolved upon being compelled to part ways like before. To leave behind loose ends. ‘At least honestly tell me if everything is alright this time. Or just the reason for why you look like you fought a war and lost. Anything. Don’t send me away without a proper goodbye, fill up the distance with making this fucking lingering concern about you I’ve been living with for the past three years a heavier burden than it already is. Yes, I understand you don’t want me by your side anymore. But, I beg of you, grant me this last favour.’

‘I never said that, that I don’t want you by my side anymore so don’t put words in my mouth. Besides, if I did I wouldn’t wish for you to be mine again, would I? I can’t tell you what happened when I was gone, merely that it has to do with what caused our goodbye in the first place. As for the wounds, it’s nothing to be worried about. I’m fine.’ Hands mould into trembling fists, the emitted heat turning to menacing rage.

The made point is justified because the used wording which is reacted to never had any valid worth, to begin with. Rashness can push one’s own opinion despite the nullifications which are or are not already present, making the individual solely focused on their hellbent desire to drive their own beliefs through.

The realization of this calms the raging storm within, knowing that more yelling and arguing will lead nowhere. Instead, a deep steadying breath is taken and a new attempt at making amends undertaken. ‘Chim...’

A careful step forward is rewarded with a petrifying glance, feet immediately stuck in the place of the last retraced track. Stare wavers for a moment to the spot which was nuzzled against and kissed longingly, imagining what could have happened had the gesture advanced. Memories of the first and last night as more than friends resurface.

Even the worst event is no longer regarded in a negative light, a hidden absurd persona craving for it to happen again.

Get knotted, feel him again.

He is not a senseless beast, but a caring young man. Why do I long for that side of him, thinking in such terms? Furthermore, how did I get so carried away by just hugging? That’s never happened.

Nevertheless, the contemplating train of thoughts inherently boils down to the same wanton wish.

To be his.

‘Go.’

Simply have him back.

Resume our tale.

‘Please-’

We can work this out. We can get you help. Therapy. You’re not an animal, Jimin. You don’t have to hold back because of it. Come back. Come back to me.

‘Go!’ The command is growled like a wolf grown sick with the obligation to wait for a dumb opposing party to leave and giving a warning shot that any further provocation has consequences. The sternness rapidly fades, softening into sweet stained nostalgia when realizing what the hurtful impact of the chosen attitude is. ‘Go, Y/N. Just go. It’s better for us. For you. I have nothing to offer, nothing to be better than the man you belong to.’

‘I belong to nobody. I’m my own person.’ It is weird to hear the statement of essentially being some individual’s property being said with so much certainty when the speaker initially was the one to say a person should never be subject to another. ‘That’s what we artists are, independent and stubbornly liberated.’

A weak bubbly chuckle, no extravagant motions that express amusement as per habit. Instead, composure portrays not wanting this outcome to the circumstances either and come closer to make resume making amends as intended by the graphic designer who was once a free-spirited artist like him, continue where the mutual story abruptly ended. Yet, behaviour obviously gives away that the alternate route is not possible if it ever has been. ‘Goodbye.’

End of the line.

Don’t. Don’t do this, you bastard!

But the tongue is rendered silent, paralyzed with grieving shock and the ability to speak abandons the mute girl with the leaving footsteps of a sandstone wolf clad in black like the starry night sky.

The same heaven above a lonely head wandering the street again after leaving the gallery, fighting to tune out the repeating material of the emotional conversation while low heels click against the concrete. Regardless, the words are resonating as if freshly spoken and fingers have the remnants of touches by other ones clearly engraved in muscle memory.

But they have to take a moment to remember the hand grabbing them now for, although more recent than Jimin’s, it seems a longer period of time has passed since it was held by this particular one. Even longer so for the voice accompanying it, containing a strange sort of confidence that would have been quite uncharacteristic up until last January. ‘He left you again, didn’t he?’

Raven locks partially shroud feverish yet trusted doe eyes above a cute nose, a paradoxical bunny-like smile playing on pale pink lips seemingly belonging to a predator. But the person in front after accidentally bumping into them after being pulled flush against a well-trained chest is known to be better than that, never having had the aura of cunning dominance. Henceforth, looking down is the kind gentle boy with the scratched back who disappeared because of the reasons another had already given three years prior.

But Time has the ability to evoke a transformation in every aspect of and being in existence and it forms the cause for this grown-up version of a shy comic artist whose creative persona is a pink muscly rabbit. Although all former anticipating illusions are forever erased by the reflection, it is still a grand comfort to see a familiar face which holds the credible promise of staying. Thus, there is a glad surrender to the intoxicating heat scented with a delicious potion of peppermint, blue ink, markers, lily and jasmine.

To the hands framing the face perfectly and body pressing against one drunk on the temporary happiness offered by the situation.

To Jungkook.