#cannot fix. Have to accept the body does not match the heart and live with that

[lostlegendaerie]

You've been a bit less active lately, I hope you're doing okay (no need to be more active of course, just wishing you well)!

I have been working on a lot of stuff in the background, specifically pitching in with the @hkvthm-action fills and my cosplays for Windblume!

Overall though, the hormone swings from transitioning have been really messing with me; I'm someone who is constantly trying to do everything for everybody else, and recently social media has just been worsening my anxiety of "oh god everything is on fire and I have to help."

I'm doing overall well, I think! But I've been stretched extremely thin this week and am not in as much shape as I'd like to be for Ratio but there's little I can do about it now besides just trusting that even slow progress is good progress, and that even if I'm a fat femme Ratio, I'll still have a good time.

It's... hard, though. It's been a hard week and it's only Wednesday. But I hope I can make people smile in the end.

[essayist-unexpectedly]

A Bleeding Red Gibson, Mafuyu’s Heart

The iconic red Gibson guitar, bought and played first by Yuki, but later given to Mafuyu, has always been a clear metaphor. It’s meant to represent the heart of Mafuyu, seen and understood clearly from the very beginning of the series, from the moment he is seen holding the guitar and snapping the strings. The beautiful guitar is the bleeding heart of Mafuyu Sato, it has its ups and downs, and its story is just as important as the boy himself.

The guitar and its symbolism start with the strings. Through the strings of the Gibson, one can read Mafuyu’s emotional and mental state. At the beginning, when the first string is snapped, Mafuyu finds Yuki’s dead body. In this moment, there is nothing good about his emotional and mental state, there is something within him that has snapped. The string stays broken as Mafuyu stays disconnected and emotionally numb, he cannot process his emotions, cannot process his grief. It is once he meets Uenoyama, once the other repairs the strings and tunes the guitar, that Mafuyu is able to start his journey of healing. It is the replacing of the strings that show healing is starting in his heart, and the tuning by Uenoyama shows who will help him in this journey, shows that he is not alone - no matter what he may feel. The same is true later on as well, when another string snaps right before Given’s first performance together. With emotions high and tensions between Mafuyu and Uenoyama, the string snaps with Mafuyu’s fear and worry. This time, the replacement happens sooner, Mafuyu and Uenoyama are able to patch things up between them, leading to an easier repair to Mafuyu’s heartstrings than the first snap. These snaps as well as the repairs of the strings to the guitar easily match and reflect Mafuyu’s emotional state.

Another way that Mafuyu’s heart is represented through the red Gibson is the possession of the guitar. The first owner of the guitar is Yuki Yoshida, Mafuyu’s late boyfriend. This symbolises how Yuki was the clear holder of Mafuyu’s heart, how the two truly did fully encompass each other. With Yuki being the owner of the guitar, Mafuyu’s heart does not belong to him, and his state of being relies heavily on Yuki's treatment. It is only after Yuki commits suicide that Mafuyu receives his heart, no longer heavily tangled into Yuki, instead having to keep it himself and figure out what to do with it. In Mafuyu’s possession of the guitar, he is lost, still disconnected from the world. He does not know how to treat the Gibson, he does not know how to treat himself. As Mafuyu learns to accept who he is without Yuki, he also learns more about how to play guitar. When Yuki possessed the guitar, Mafuyu was one with him, but once he was given the guitar, Mafuyu learned how to live and love, all on his own terms. The Gibson is able to show how he needed to learn to be his own heart and his own person once more.

Finally, there is the playing of the guitar. When Yuki plays the guitar, Mafuyu is wrapped up in him. The playing goes very hand in hand with the possession of the guitar, with the difference being that the playing represents communication rather than who his heart belongs to. With Yuki being the one who plays the guitar, Mafuyu’s communication skills are limited. He is unable to speak up, to talk to people, to tell Yuki how he feels. Yuki playing it represents how they could read each other, but it became limited as they grew apart, and Mafuyu felt unable to reach Yuki, forcing them to rely on how they can read each other rather than actually talking with one another. When the red Gibson is possessed by Mafuyu, but remains unplayed, it shows how the boy is lost and still unable to communicate with others around him. At that time, he has no idea what he is doing with himself, and he doesn’t talk to others. But Uenoyama fixing and then tuning the guitar, strumming a chord, once more opens up an opportunity for Mafuyu. He takes the chance and asks the other for lessons. When Uenoyama finally agrees, and Mafuyu starts to learn how to play, he is also able to learn how to communicate once again. Of course, both learning guitar and learning how to communicate are difficult, something shown with how rough Mafuyu is at both of them throughout the series. While there are times when he is successful, like when performing, there are also times when he struggles, such as when Uenoyama becomes a substitute for SYH, and he stops both playing and communicating with those around him. Overall, the playing of the red guitar is able to subtly show how Mafuyu struggles to communicate with others.

In the end, the symbolic red Gibson is able to encompass different parts of Mafuyu’s character seamlessly. It shows his emotional state, who his heart belongs to, as well as how well he can communicate in different ways, keeping them separate and together at the same time, as they are all different elements of the same character. From the moments he holds the guitar with a string snapping, to him ending up on stages while playing the guitar, it is clear that the heart of Mafuyu Sato is symbolised through the beautiful red Gibson.   

[decoysouled]

unprompted asks // accepting // @astrcls. perhaps it's thanks to kafka lulling ( or suggesting, or forcing ) you off to sleep. perhaps you don't usually dream --- perhaps this is an exception. but this time ... perhaps the dream feels real --- realer even than waking life. someone you used to know is crying. his face is hazy, but there's a familiar red earring dangling from one ear; on his wrist is a familiar bracer. it matches your own. his breath leaves him in quiet, hiccupping sobs --- as if even in grief, he's conditioned to be polite. his hands are gentle and cold as he reaches for your own, tugging at the bandages there. "tián xīn," he weeps, sounding as if his heart is being shattered into pieces, "you're hurting --- you're in pain ! have i ... did i do this ? oh ... i did this, i did this, i --- i can fix it, if you'll let me. just close your eyes, ████, it will be all right, i love you, i will love you forever, please don't leave me --- " ... ......... ( when you wake, will you remember a name to match the sound of his voice --- will you remember the echoes of his touch ? and will your aches and pains be better for it, or worse ? )

SOMETIMES THE MAN DREAMS — the weapon does not care for such desires, for the remnants of an unknown past that curl their tendrils around the mind of the human who still remains buried deep inside of the body they share. Some days, these dreams leave Ren hollow, as if he has lost someone he cannot name, as if he has been stolen from a time he cannot remember. Others, there is an indescribable feeling that wells up in his chest & threatens to drown him as if a moon had taken the tides of a planet & thrust them inside of him.

( those feelings do not belong to him, blade knows, but some days he wishes they did. )

Tonight, Ren dreams that he is dying. It is different to the countless other times that he has met the end of his life, reawakened by an immortal life that was thrust upon him unwillingly many moons ago — he can hardly remember when it happened, only who did it, those cruel eyes that he can never quite erase from his mind despite the way it forgets; the ways in which memory warps until it is unrecognisable. Until it no longer exists at all.

The person in his dreams is speaking to him as if he is important & he finds he cannot recall who they are nor can he recall who is — he does not know his name, he cannot move his limbs. There is something within him that pleads with him to raise his hand, to cup the cheek of the other & run his fingers along his jawline as if it will offer some semblance of comfort. It is too dark to see ( or perhaps he cannot see at all ) but he knows this person.

( he cannot remember his name. he wants to. he needs to. )

He opens his eyes within a dream ( he cannot wake up, cannot feel that he is resting. is it even a dream or is it real? he does not have an answer. ) & he can see it there in the corner of his sight, that red tassel dangling from the ears of the man before him, the bracer on his hand that crosses before his eyes. He cannot remember his name, but he can remember this man's: Dan Feng is before him, tears falling from his eyes & where anger should be, there is only sorrow.

( a concern for what had happened, a worry for why he is in tears. )

Dan Feng cries as if he is the one wounded, as if he is the one whose heart was ripped out once & had never been placed back into his chest. He speaks so sweetly, so sadly, & he feels the urge to try & comfort the man, to try and console him as if it will quell his weeping. As if he has ever been capable of that. It is his fault, Dan Feng claims, yet he feels that it cannot possibly be, for he was never the best at caring for himself & he has always been prone to recklessness.

( he does not know the source of this knowledge. he does not know if it is his. )

Tonight, he dreams that he is living — death is not coming to him, he realises belatedly, simply injuries he can hardly feel, bandaged carefully as if he has been tended to by someone who cannot help but care for him. Jing Yuan, his mind supplies, must have done this, must have cared for his ailments as he slept, but he cannot understand why his name is the one conjured up by his mind.

( nor can he explain the warmth in his chest, the light smile he allows to rest on his lips for just a moment before it fades at the words of the other. )

Perhaps Dan Feng is lucky in this life, for he does indeed close his eyes, albeit he does not fall into a restless sleep, instead simply relaxing as the familiar feeling of cloudhymn magic envelops him like it is one of the blankets Jing Yuan often brings by, or like it is Dan Feng's arms around him on a moonlit night when they both have had a little too much to drink. He whispers something softly to the other, although he is unsure of whether it is heard at all, for he can still here that quiet sobbing coming from his partner.

( it is okay rests on his lips. i love you comes from his mouth. )

The unnamed ( & who is he, in this moment? who was he back then? ) does not make the same protests he usually would to Dan Feng's healing, although perhaps he is too tired to argue or too affectionate a lover to deny the other something so insignificant like he usually would. It is not time yet, he thinks, for Dan Feng to bury the beloved & create the monster that now roams the stars, seeking out someone who no longer exists as if bloodshed would finally empty the resentment he has harboured for what feels like an eternity.

( in the dream, he cannot understand how he would ever hate this man who treats him so tenderly. who acts as if he might break. )

Ren awakes to an empty room, his eyes fixated on the ceiling above him as the last dregs of sleep are slowly packed away into the corner of his mind, like clothes being placed in a suitcase that would never be closed, remaining open & out of sight, never quite acknowledged yet there all the same, as if it is waiting for something that will never happen again.

There is a sorrow in his heart that will not fade, although he cannot remember what he must have been dreaming of — there was someone crying, he recalls, who was very important to him. He cannot remember their name. He cannot remember their face or their voice or the reason they were weeping. He wishes he did, he wants to, but it seems his mind cannot hold onto it any longer, like the rest of his memories from the life before this one.

He can feel the other's touch still, the cold yet tender hands that gently tugged at his bandages until they unravelled & the gentle feeling of water washing over his wounds as if it would heal him. He knows, somewhere in his heart, who it was that had tended to him so thoughtfully, who had wept over him — it is the same merciless man who had buried him until he had risen once again, but he cannot reconcile this knowledge in his mind, cannot remember anything else.

( there is the warmth that comes with being loved in his heart, washing over it like sand on the shore. it is a remnant of a different person's life & it does not belong to him, but oh how he wishes it could for just a moment. )

Ren closes his eyes once more, although he does not give into the sleep that creeps into his body nor the exhaustion that has followed him like a second shadow. For now, he will allow himself to feel adored. For now, he will carve what little he remembers into his mind. By evening, he would forget this dream & the feelings that come with it, an intangible sadness, an irrevocable care that was offered to the person he once was.

( on days like this, he wishes he could keep this memory, despite the fact it has never been his to keep. )

[boldlyvoid]

Million Dollar Man | chapter two

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)

word count: 3.4K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est

Chapter Two | Masterlist

She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.

Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.

Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.

She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.

All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.

She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.

But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.

He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”

He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”

She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”

He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.

She doesn’t accept it just yet.

It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.

“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”

He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.

Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”

“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”

Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”

She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”

Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.

It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.

“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.

“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”

“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.

She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”

“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.

“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”

“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”

“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”

“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”

“Yes please,” she smiles.

“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”

“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.

—

They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.

Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.

For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.

He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.

He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.

They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.

“How many gifts is this now?”

“We’re at 5 out of 24.”

She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”

“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.

“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.

The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.

“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”

“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.

“He lets her choose,” he whispers.

“He rescues her,” she corrects him.

“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.

It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”

“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.

“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”

“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.

“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”

She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”

“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”

She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”

“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”

“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.

“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”

She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”

He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”

“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.

As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”

He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…

“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.

“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”

With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.

“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”

“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”

He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”

She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”

He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”

He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.

She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.

“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”

He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”

“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”

Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.

She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.

“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.

“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”

“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.

“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”

“Daddy’s girl.”

He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.

She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.

He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”

“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.

“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”

For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.

“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.

She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”

“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.

“Only if you let me wash the front too?”

She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.

Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.

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Sugar daddy fic (Some tags didn't work)

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[yutahoes]

Video Call

pairing : boyfriend! Yuta Nakamoto x female! Reader

word count : 1.5k words

genre : smut, established relationship

summary : Your boyfriend gets really needy.

warnings : phone sex, mutual masturbation, dick pic, panty sniffing (panty kink?), pillow humping, teddy bear humping (don't ask please), language, Yuta being really needy

Based on this ask. 😁 I’m sorry for the requests that came before this. I’m still searching for an idea in my brain and I’ve been so busy lately. I’ll get to it when my schedule clears up. 

"Where are you? Are you still at work?" Yuta asked by the phone that made you hum in response, handing your co-worker the file you just finished typing. "What time is it there?" 

"I'm almost done, Yuta." You answered before another co-worker came up to you. "Hold up." You heard him groan on the line before you engaged in small talks with your female co-worker. She was stressed with the workload and asked you for a drink. Before you could answer, you heard your boyfriend on the other line shouting 'Say no'. "Why?" 

"I need you." Huh? But he's in Japan now. What does he need you for? "Please, I'm horny." 

You stifled a laugh before putting down your phone and apologizing to your co-worker. You returned to your desk, leaning on the chair when you handled the phone to your ear. "What did you do? Why are you…?" You cannot even say the word, scared that someone can hear you. "I'll message you." 

Your fingers quickly typed a message to him, 'Can't you just watch porn? Or hentai?' 

'I can't. I miss you.' 

'Hurry home.' 

You laughed before fixing your bag, ready to head home. It's a rare instance that your boyfriend is this needy. But then, it's also a rare instance that you're away from each other. Your phone vibrated and you almost dropped it when it showed a picture of his dick covered by a fabric you knew by heart. The red satin underwear you thought you lost. 

'You brought my underwear to Japan?' 

'I had to. Still smells like you.'

'Gross'

You didn’t mind the repeatedly vibrating of your phone as you boarded the bus. First, you’re scared that Yuta might send you a dick pic again and that someone can see it. Secondly, you can’t be horny in public. You decided to open it when you reached the doors of your shared apartment, pictures of him pouting, his red dick, and even a video of him touching his body surprising you. ‘Please baby. I’m horny.’ ‘I wish you’re here with me right now.’ ‘Your pussy will feel good in my cock’ ‘Want to make you moan with my mom next door’ You gasped. He might be really needy. 

Quickly, you undress from your work clothes that you’re in your white brassiere and matching lingerie. It’s not like he can see you but you wanted to be sexy if you’re going to do this with him. ‘I’m home. Call me.’ You messaged. It wasn’t even a second when you’re phone vibrated, a video call request. Fuck, he really is needy. 

Yuta’s smile can be seen on the screen when you accepted the call, greeting you and asking if you’ve just arrived home. You nodded, showing him your bedroom and careful not to let him see that you’re in your underwear only. “God, I miss you.” He whispered. 

“You miss me or you miss being inside me?” 

A chuckle escaped his lips. “Both.” He answered in a low voice that made you giggle. “What are you wearing?” So you’re already starting? With your other hand, you tried to caress your body to get you in the mood. You’re used to him touching you first before doing things. If only he’s here. “Already touching yourself?” 

You gave him an innocent smile before holding the phone away from you. You were leaning on the headboard of the bed and you saw how he licked his lips at your white brassiere. “God, you’re hot.” He claimed before you panned the camera lower, capturing the matching underwear that released a groan from him. You smirked when you returned the camera to your face before he can get a glimpse of your hand slipping inside your panty. “If I were there, I would have tied you to bed.” 

“Too bad you’re not here.” You whispered in an erotic voice. “I would have let you do anything to me.” A moan escaped your lips when you rubbed your fingers on your pussy lips. “I wish you’re touching me now, love.” 

As you close your eyes with the pressure, you can see the smirk in Yuta’s face growing. “I wish my tongue is touching you now.” You released a breathy moan when your fingers entered your core, actually imagining that it’s Yuta’s tongue. “I’ll suck the soul out of you. Until you’re shaking on my tongue.” You pushed your fingers deeper into your core. 

The phone fell when your other hand groped your breast. Your back arching at the pleasure as you used your thumb to play with your clit. “Love.” you heard the voice from the phone but you were so blinded by the pleasure that you kept on playing with yourself first. Your body felt hot as you screamed while squirming in your orgasm, creating evident wetness in your panty. 

You were still breathless when you put the camera on the headboard as you lie stomach flat on the bed, looking warily at Yuta. He had his eyebrow raised, smirking at you. “Good?” He asked and you nodded that made him sigh. The camera changed angle that you can see his cock now, red and throbbing. The veins pulsing on the sides as the tip swell while glistening. 

Yuta traced a finger on the base of his cock, heading to the tip. “Wish this is your tongue, love.” You choked on your breath as you watched him play with himself. His long slender fingers wrapped around his cock and started jerking his hard rod. “I want you to ride on me. Feel that wet cunt on my cock.” And you wanted it as well. Why is Japan so far? If he wanted you earlier, you wanted him more now. 

Unconsciously, you started rubbing yourself to sheets while watching Yuta’s hand go up and down his cock. “Ride me, baby.” You know he can still see you. So you put a pillow, his pillow, under you as you humped the inanimate object at the same pace as his action. You bit your lip at the friction of your wet underwear, careful to keep the action with him. 

Yuta’s moan echoed through the speakerphone, whispering that he’s almost there. And you knew he is, with the raging redness of his cock. But you’re not yet ready. You have to think, fast. 

The brown bear by your nightstand caught your attention, the teddy bear Yuta got from playing at that one booth in the amusement park. “Wait, where are you…?” He asked in between breathy moans. You reappeared with the bear, putting it above the pillow then sat on it. “What?”   

You put your hand on the headboard as you started grinding on the bear. The pointed nose from the teddy bear giving your wetness additional friction, making you moan non-stop. "That's so good." You screamed, not looking at the screen but just focused on the new pleasure building inside you. You can hear the muffled moans your boyfriend created, the sound of skin as he kept jacking off at a rapid pace. “Yuta, I’m so close.” You shouted, bouncing then grinding on the face of the teddy bear. 

The light brown fur turned darker brown with your juice, your underwear feeling wetter as when it did earlier. From the screen, you saw white strings of cum come out of Yuta’s cock and shooting on his stomach, even covering his butterfly tattoo. When he changed the camera, you were surprised to see your red underwear in his mouth. “You are so disgusting.” You exclaimed which made him laugh. 

“Not as disgusting as you humping a teddy bear.” You rolled your eyes at that, standing up to remove your soaking underwear. “Sexy,” Yuta smirked. “Another underwear for my collection.” 

----

Yuta isn’t home for two days yet you’re already so stressed out with work. Maybe it was because you slept late last night after the talk with Yuta about his trip and about your day. True, you had a sexy time last night. But his touches, especially his cock, were different that you’re horny. Your period might be coming. 

When you reached home, you just took off your shoes before sighing hard. Another lonely night that you swear your sigh echoes through the house. You stopped in your tracks seeing the brown bear taped on the wall. What is this? The moment you removed the bear on the wall, you noticed the bags in the living room. Yuta is here? 

"Yuta!" You called and he went out of the room that made you run to him for a hug. Now that he's here, you realized how much you truly missed him. "I thought you wouldn't be back until Sunday?" 

"Change of plans. Mom wants me out of the house and I missed my baby girl." You grinned, hugging him tightly. You were startled seeing a white fabric on his hand, your underwear from last night. 

Quickly, you removed your hold on his and stepped back before he caught sight of what you're holding. "Come, my baby. I'm hungry. Open your legs for me." He pulled you to him while dropping the underwear on the floor. "And bring your motherfucking friend to watch how I fuck you hard." 

You giggled before screaming when he carried you to the bedroom, your underwear and the teddy bear forgotten on the floor. 

[princess-fuckrosa]

Hello there , can I ask for some general sfw & nsfw relationship headcanons for Koga (Inuyasha) , please?

To be honest, my box was closed when you sent this, but Koga was one of my first fictional lovers, so... 😶 There's no way I would ignore or decline an ask with him, haha.💖

He is just the perfect man, send more because I am in love again. 🥺💖

SFW

First of all, I don't think I have to say this, but he is very passionate and impulsive, not just in his love life, but in general. Koga is a stubborn, reckless alpha, who is not afraid to take the risk.

He is not picky about their mates, but that doesn't mean he would be okay with anyone. His s/o have to be extremely loyal, trustworthy and it's not a must, but someone calmer than him would be the perfect match.

He is kind of a tsundere? Nothing like Inuyasha, of course, but early in the relationship, I can see him getting flustered and a bit irritated about it, but only if you are in front of others. It's not even about being flustered, but he has a reputation to keep in front of the pack and even more, in front of enemies. Especially if you tease him about it, but if you are more like the timid type, he wouldn't even mind you being affectionate with him in front of anyone.

Lowkey I want to write that the shy and sweet type would be the best for him, but that would be just me being too nosey about my favorite trope, the shy girl and the confident guy, haha

Falling for someone is easy for him, as we saw with Kagome, so as long as you have the traits I mentioned before, he could easily catch feelings for you.

And once he does, he will be very persistent. God forbid not returning his feelings, he will be your shadow for a long time before accepting that you're not interested.

But you are, and that makes his heart race even more. After he realizes that he fell in love, he will pledge his undying love for you in an hour. Sorry, there's nothing like taking it slow in his dictionary.

Be prepared for constant gifts, mostly flowers, with cheesy compliments when he gives them to you.

"I saw these flowers, and they reminded me to you, they are almost as beautiful as you."

He is busy a lot, but when he can take some time for you, he is the most affectionate and fun-loving person.

He is like a big kid when he can relax with you. He would be more than happy to carry you on his back and run around the mountains with full speed.

If he feels tired after a busy day or a long quest, he would love to cuddle you all night, feeling your closeness, your scent around him.

About the scent: He is a wolf and he lives with wolves, sorry, he is stinky. Nothing that cannot be solved with big baths, which is more than welcomed by him, but having this kind of musk around him is important for the pack. But I guarantee you if you will live with him and his nation, you will pick up the scent too, and after a little while, you won't even notice it. You can be stinky together.

He is very considerate of your feelings and beliefs, but can be a bit blunt and insensitive sometimes, and probably will hurt you. Try to be understanding, if you explain to him that something made you feel bad or uncomfortable, he will listen to you and apologize immediately, trying to understand your point and be more careful next time.

He needs your constant support, but not that great with returning the favor. That doesn't mean he wouldn't cheer for you or he doesn't care about your goals and achievements. He will pat your head and say something like "Good work, y/n", but unless it's something heavily connected with his goals, he wouldn't really give any more affirmation. He knows you're amazing, and he wouldn't be in tune with your feelings at first if you need more confirmation and verbal affection about it.

Although if you would tell him how you feel and that you need more support, he would be confused at first. Like, he does that already?? In his mind, he didn't lack anything about that, but will be understanding and would consider your feelings, so he would try his best to be more affectionate about it. With more or less success, but hey, he is trying.

He is really the type who will try to constantly sweep you off of your feet, no matter how long you are in a relationship.

SMUT under the cut

Again, this guy is passionate and impulsive.

Like, very passionate.

But the only thing he would take slow is starting the intimate side of your relationship.

He would be very eager to touch places on your body where no one touched you before, exploring all of your sweet spots... But he would wait until you get married, he is a very traditional person in this sense.

Don't worry, if it's only on him, he will marry you in a few weeks anyway.

But oh boy, the night after the wedding would be something else. He longed for your touch, starved for it, and even if it was your first time, he would be more on the rough side.

Which his general style.

I don't think he can't be gentle and just slow and sensual sometimes, but even if you start out that way, the beast in him quickly gets free.

He is more traditional about this too tho, his favorite positions are missionary and doggy but would instinctively switch to a full mating press sometimes.

He is very dominant in the bed, and if you are into it, he would totally press you down by your neck while he ravages you from behind.

He is not really into dirty talk, he is pretty silent during the act, but will let out growls and grunts. But on the rare occasions when he lets you ride him, he will talk a lot more often.

"You are so beautiful, y/n."

"I love hearing your voice."

"Look at me, I want to see you."

Oh yeah, voices... Well, he would make you moan loud every time, and don't think he would care about being heard in the slightest. He is the alpha, and if the pack hears you while you pleasure each other, it's even a hierarchical thing to him. Assert dominance by making you moan

Would be great giving oral, but wouldn't be that fixed on receiving. He wouldn't decline your offer, but would never initiate it, it even feels a bit strange for him, but would enjoy it every time when you give him head.

Bites and scratches are usual, but he wouldn't do it too harshly unless you ask him to, then he would moderately ruin your body with pleasure.

[imkylotrash]

Home Of Your Ghost

Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

Request: The reader gets infected by the burnt and the burnt cannot be killed in time. So the reader dies. (The reader is married to Saul Silva.) Anonymous

A/N You can thank Adele for putting me in the mood to break my own heart with this one. 

Taglist: @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @bitchwhytho @grey-girl​

He takes a final look in the mirror straightening the collar of his black suit. The tie is perfectly done just as you would have liked it. He remembers how you’d always fix it for him but this time you’re not here to do that. 

“It’s time to go.” Sky’s outfit matches Saul’s but his tie is crooked. Carefully, Saul fixes the tie for a second seeing your hands tightening the knot rather than his own. Lately, he’s been seeing you in everything he does. He’s been told that this is normal when you’re grieving the loss of a loved one but it doesn’t make it any less painful. He sees his own pain reflected in Sky’s eyes. Saul may have lost his wife but Sky lost the only mother figure he’s ever known. Your spirit seems to be everywhere but Saul would much rather just have you here. 

“What if I can’t do it?” he asks pondering just how disappointed you’d be in him for not having enough strength for this. But it seems unfair considering how you were always the strong one. You’d lead armies to war and fought battles the rest of them had only ever heard of. When Saul felt discouraged, you’d been the one to set his head straight. You’d been his rock and now he felt like he was doing everything he could to not let the tide carry him away. Saul was drowning without you. 

“You can. If not for yourself then for Y/N. You both deserve a proper goodbye.” The reminder cuts Saul’s heart deeper than he anticipated even if Sky didn’t mean it like that. He hadn’t been there when you closed your eyes for the last time. He’d been out hunting for the Burned One convinced that he would find it in time. He hadn’t been there to hold your hand or kiss you one last time. In fact, he didn’t even remember your last kiss. Had he kissed you goodbye that morning before leaving? The question seemed to haunt him. 

“I should’ve been there.” So much raw emotion is hidden behind those simple words. Words that seem incapable of encompassing how he really feels. He should’ve told you he loved you one last time, he should’ve been there to hold you. Instead he was out playing a hero thinking he could make a difference. He hears no argument from Sky and Saul knows he’s thinking the same thing. Y/N died alone because of Saul and his desperate attempt to change the inevitable outcome. Saul had known when they brought you in that there wouldn’t be enough time and he went out into the forest anyway. He’d refused to stay with you because that meant accepting you were going to die and he just couldn’t do that. 

“Let’s go.” Everyone wears black and it hits Saul like a punch to the gut. This is real. Your casket is right in front of him reminding him that he can’t run from the truth anymore. You’re gone and you’re not coming back. He keeps telling himself that this isn’t a dream but his heart remains hopeful that he’ll wake up soon. He sees you in all the students faces as he looks around. You’ve shaped them into young adults and helped them achieve more than they ever thought possible. 

“We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of a soul that touched many lives.” Saul clenches his jaw to keep the tears at bay. He knew Farah had made arrangement for a funeral as they would do it on Earth. You would’ve liked knowing that your life on Earth followed you all the way to the end. You’d been raised on Earth by your parents and it wasn’t until you were old enough to attend Alfea that they had been willing to move back to the Otherworld. That’s where Saul had met you the first time. For him it was love at first sight when he saw you walk through those gates. He knew he’d have to have you and after the first date he’d never looked back. 

“I’ll open the floor if anyone has anything to share.” The priest steps aside and Saul feels his throat close up as everyone looks to him. Very slowly, he stands up and walks up to the casket. He catches himself wishing it were an open casket so he could see your face one last time but maybe it’s a good thing he can’t see the injuries caused by the Burned One. As Saul faces the crowd, he looks for the words to even begin describing what you meant not only to him but everyone here. For a second, he spots you standing all the way at the back watching him and instinctively, he knows what you’d want him to say. 

“Loss is a funny thing. Ironically, it makes you think about life. When I married Y/N, I said yes to growing old together. I had it all planned in my head which, of course, is dangerous in this line of business. You’re never sure if you’re going to get tomorrow. I never even considered that I might be standing here without her but I’m here now and I have to do the best I can with what I have. It’s what Y/N would’ve wanted. And I want all of you to do the same.” He looks for you in the crowd but he doesn’t see you again. 

“I will carry Y/N in my heart for the rest of my life and I’ll make sure I’m living a life she would’ve been proud of. Even if I don’t get to live it with her.” He takes in the students faces for a moment before sitting down next to Sky. He doesn’t remember much from the funeral but eventually he’s left alone in front of your tombstone. 

“I miss you, baby,” he starts sitting down on the grass and closes his eyes. It’s so easy to picture you right there next to him while your memory is still fresh. He’s scared one day he won’t be able to remember the small things like your favourite colour and the feeling of your soft skin pressed against his. 

“I miss you too.” The sound of your voice takes his breath away. It sounds so real as if you’re sitting right next to him. He keeps his eyes closed scared to break the illusion. 

“I don’t know how to do this without you. We were supposed to grow old together,” he says trying to keep his voice steady but failing miserably. Out here alone is the only place he gets to fall apart. 

“You muddle through and eventually it gets easier. You know this, Saul. You’ve known loss before me.” It’s a cruel reminder but he knows you’re right. In all honesty, he’s mostly just afraid that if he allows himself to carry on with his life, he might forget you. He can’t imagine having a day go by without him sparing you a thought. 

“I’m here, sweetheart. In everything you do, I’m right there next to you. I promise, you will survive this.” He thinks about Alfea barely visible through the trees. In every room and every hallway, he feels your presence. He sees you in the small details in his quarters and in the students. Alfea is your legacy. 

“I wasn’t ready to lose you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He’s given up trying to control the tears streaming down his face as he admits everything he’s been thinking for these past few days. 

“You did what you thought was best. No one can blame you for that. I’m sorry I left you.” You’re not really here but he feels the wind hug his body as if it’s you comforting him. He swears he catches a whiff of your perfume even though he knows it’s impossible. 

“I love you,” he whispers getting ready for the inevitable.

“I love you too.” When he opens his eyes, you’re gone. No perfume, no voice, nothing. It almost feels like you never existed in the first place. 

[tomurasprincess]

A Caged Dove Part 2 (Shouto Todoroki x Reader)

Summary: You are a princess from a smaller territory within the kingdom, summoned to the castle to meet with the heir of the throne in the absence of your parents. You think it will simply be a routine trip, until you realize that Prince Shouto has his own plans for you. Whether you agree with them or not.

Pairing: Prince Shouto Todoroki x Reader Rating: T+ for this chapter, but E+ for future ones. Chapter Warnings: Yandere themes, obsession, suggestion of forced marriage, murder Series Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, breeding, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stalking, yandere Word Count: 3.1k Note: Fairy Tale AU. (Still more Grimm than Disney). First part was my event entry into the @bnhabookclub, a group I am so happy to have joined. This series is actually something that I am really proud of, and I’m glad that it seems to be getting such a good response. I hope you all like part 2! Thank You: To @thewheezingwyvern, who continues to discusses this idea with me for hours, albeit with less screeching now that I’m actually posting. Woman, I really appreciate your help. @jojosmilktea​, thank you again for making the gorgeous banner for me! I am but a humble peasant compared to your banner making, and must bow to the queen.

One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Finale)

You are being led to your assigned bedroom in the Todoroki castle, a large extravagant room unlike anything you've ever experienced back at your own home. The ceilings are tall and vaulted, with a gorgeous ornate fireplace along the back wall. A large four-poster bed dominates the space itself with a canopy hanging from all four posts. When you step into the bathroom, you notice the large claw foot tub in the middle of the room, and you find yourself immediately wanting to use it.

It has been a long day, and you were barely able to fix yourself up for the meeting properly. A fact that is unusual, considering the nature of this meeting. The royal family sometimes take days to meet with guests, even ones they summon. Having an immediate meeting with him left you off balance and feeling very unprepared for the meeting.

And as for Prince Shouto himself, you really don't know what to make of him. On one hand, you can see the Todoroki royal bearing about him, the kind of manner you would expect from the heir to the throne. On the other hand, you see something in his mismatched eyes that you do not like. Something dark and possessive. It worries you in a way that you cannot explain, but there is nothing to do right now but play along.

Play along and hope that Prince Shouto will come to his senses, drop this madness. You are no fit companion for the heir to the throne, no future queen to sit beside him. There are far better options for one such as him, and you do not want the kind of responsibility this will lead to. You just have to prove to him that there are better options for him. Or at worst, wait for your parents to return from their trip and explain that you do not want this. Even the Todoroki family, as powerful as they are, cannot ignore the right of noble parents to refuse a match.

You sigh to yourself as you go to bed, hoping a better answer will come to you in the morning.

~~~~

You are woken up gently by someone calling your name in the distance, and you blearily open your eyes to see a handmaiden standing beside your bed. You realize quickly that it's not your own that you brought with you on this journey, and you instantly inquire about that. "Excuse me, but where is the girl from my household?"

"I am terribly sorry Princess, but I was summoned here to take care of you for your rendezvous with his Royal Highness," she gives a deep curtsy to these words.

"You are dismissed," you say gently, "I would prefer to use my own handmaiden. She already knows exactly what to do in order to get me ready for such a big event."

The handmaid's face turns panicked, her eyes flicking about as if she's worried that someone will hear what you said. "I am terribly sorry Princess," she whispers, "but I must be the one to do it or I could face a reprimand."

You recognize the word reprimand the way it's intended, the hidden meaning behind it clear. She will be punished, most likely severely, if you don't allow her to finish this task. Refusing or failing a task given to you by the nobility can have horrible consequences, even with the kind hearted royal family.

You give a sigh as you roll gracelessly out of bed. "Alright then, you may assist me." At your words, the panic leaves her face and she gives you a bright smile. What kind of punishment would make her so scared, you wonder, her fear being so intense that it makes you worried.

You shake your head before realizing that there is nothing you can do for her and that there is no way to find out. She seems too timid to get any real answers out of. You allow her to lead you to the bathroom with little complaint as she helps get you out of your nightclothes and into the bath. She helps you with every aspect of cleaning your body, of washing your hair, picking and laying out clothes for you. Then she assists you with putting on every piece of clothing before applying your makeup and fixing your hair.

By the time she is done with all of this, you almost feel like going back to bed. Taking this much time to get ready every morning is exhausting, and it's not something you need to do back home. She leads you to a full length mirror against the wall of your bedroom and encourages you to look into it.

What you see almost takes your breath away at the woman staring back at you. You are in a gorgeous, floor length ball gown, a dark red color with traces of silver swirling through the pattern. The jewelry is all silver, rubies inlaid in every piece in such a way that it almost looks like drops of blood woven into the metal itself. Your hair has been kept long, but with braids here and there that have been wrapped around the back of your head like a crown. You have never worn such finery in your life, never looked so beautiful. The perks of being courted by a prince, you suppose.

"Thank you, you did a wonderful job," you compliment the handmaid. "And I suppose it's your job to take me to Prince Shouto, as well?" You realize what you called him as soon as the handmaiden's eyes get wide and frightened, and you belatedly realize that you don't know if he gave you permission to call him that outside of being alone with him. You decide you need to confirm that one way or the other when you meet him, lest you get yourself in trouble.

The woman wisely chooses to ignore your possible slipup, merely nodding at you as she motions you through the door. You walk through several long, empty corridors, as you quietly take in the sights of the palace. You have never been here personally, but you have heard the stories, and it truly does live up to the reputation of splendor. Maybe a bit too much splendor, you laugh to yourself, as you can't imagine living here regularly.

Finally you reach your destination, an open air courtyard within the palace gates. It is surrounded by beautiful flowers of all different types and colors, and a large cherry tree in the middle of the area. It's under the tree where Prince Shouto stands waiting for you. He is in his full prince regalia, his suit jacket and pants black with silver accents here and there. An elaborate sword hangs at his waist in a gold scabbard. You glance up at his face to see him already looking at you, a small smirk gracing his face as he notices your attention.

You make your way slowly towards him, stopping at the acceptable range for a noblewoman of your station. But Prince Shouto does not seem to care about such a thing, as he immediately moves even closer to you, the distance between you bordering impropriety. This is the distance a husband and a wife would be from each other, you think in alarm. You try to take a step back, but he simply grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist. He takes one slender finger under your chin to tip your face back so that he can stare into your eyes.

Your heart is pounding as you're frozen in indecision. Nothing about your training tells you how to react when a prince ignores all manner of modern decency to pursue a lower class noblewoman. Your eyes dart back and forth, a pathetic plea for help as you know no one would dare go against the Crown Prince.

He lets out a small growl that brings you back to attention, and you find yourself gazing into his eyes at the heat that lay in them. "Look at me, Princess," he whispers, "and no one else."

Your eyes widen at his possessive tone, and you try to think of a response until he suddenly pulls away completely. His face is back to his neutral look, and it's as if you never saw the darkness, the fire in his eyes.

Before you leave the garden with him, he reaches up to pluck a blossom from the tree right overhead. You give him a questioning look before he reaches down to tuck it into your braids. You reach up to gently touch the flower in your hair, before giving a slight smile at the rather boyish gesture. He smiles back at you and offers you an arm, and left with nothing else to do, you take it.

The next few hours are pleasant, if nothing more than idle chit chat. You take a pleasant stroll through the gardens as he explains the castle grounds. You occasionally drift into castle drama with one noble or the other, but never anything controversial. To your surprise however, he seems very interested in your own opinion on various political issues. Even when you two disagree, he listens to your opinion and even modifies his opinion when he finds you made a good point. This is rather pleasant, you think to yourself. Maybe your instincts were wrong after all.

"I am delighted that you agreed to go on this date with me, Princess."

You inwardly roll your eyes at the statement, but bite back a retort. You both know that you had no real choice in the matter.

"It has been rather pleasant, Prince Shouto. I am surprised, however, that you take my opinion into consideration. I am not as familiar in the area of politics as you are, as my own territory is small."

"You again do yourself a disservice. You are quite well read, and even in this talk we have had today, you have proven yourself to be a rather quick learner. Anyone who reads as much as you do must be. It is a surprise you have had no one court you before me."

"Thank you, Prince Shouto, that is very kind of you to say. That means quite a lot coming from you, someone who has been groomed for politics and ruling all his life." As you say this though, something strikes you as odd about what he said. "I'm sorry, but how do you know that I read a lot? Or that I haven't been courted."

He smirks as he shrugs his shoulders in a distinctly un-prince like fashion. "Oh, it is simply known. Many people talk about the Princess who would prefer to read in her library over getting married."

"That is not entirely true, Prince Shouto. If you don't mind me saying, of course," you hastily add. "There was one who wanted to court me, a local noble in my territory. But something happened to make him drop everything, leave the country."

Prince Shouto's gaze turns dark, almost murderous. "Is that so? Are you talking about the foolish noble who tried to run to the country of one of our enemies? He tried to steal something from the crown, was found guilty of treason and was swiftly executed."

You stare at him in horror as you try to reconcile his words with the friendly, sweet man who had wanted to marry you. You thought you had loved him, was looking forward to a life by his side. For him to be convicted of treason, to be dead, it left you speechless.

"I - I did not know that," you say quietly. "How did you know?"

"It is my job to know what's going on with my country," he says impassively, "and what's going on with people who try to take what's mine."

The wording of this strikes you as odd. Stealing from the crown was a capital offense, but the prince seems to take it almost personally. As if it was an attack on him directly. You shake your head and chalk it up to one of the many strange facets to Prince Shouto.

He takes you to an unknown building on the last stop of the tour and leads you down a long corridor until you reach two huge double doors. He pushes them open, motioning you inside. As you walk through the door, you can't stop yourself from letting out an audible gasp.

The room is a library, although that is a poor description for the vast beauty of this place. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line every wall, with tables and chairs in the middle for sitting and reading. On the far side of the wall sits a little reading cubbyhole, similar to what you have at home, for when you want to hide away from the world and immerse yourself in a book.

You forget all sense of manners as you rush away towards one of the bookshelves, turning your back to a prince in a shocking breach of decorum. But as you turn back to apologize, you don't miss the way his face is flush with pleasure at your enjoyment.

"Please continue, Princess," his smile turns sharp, "this room is for you, after all."

"What, what do you mean this room is for me?" You ask in confusion.

"As my wife, this library will be all yours."

Your eyes light up a bit at the thought of all of this being yours, although you're still slightly confused by his statement. But you decide to take his comment about continuing at face value, and you walk hurriedly to the first bookshelf you see before gently running your fingertips along the shelves. They are full of books that you love, all of the classics and nonfiction, the romance and the horror. You wander through the whole library, checking every section and simply breathing in the smell of old books.

But you notice a disturbing trend as you go through the library, something that becomes more and more obvious as you look around. This is not a complete library by any means. But the genres, the books that are missing, are all the ones that you do not like. You glance at the classics section, and notice all of your favorite authors are here, and the few who you dislike are conspicuously missing. The same with some of the nonfiction. Whole genres of books are missing, entire sections of authors.

As you get to the back section of the library, things become even more chilling. An entire bookshelf, full of all the books you have wanted to read but could not for one reason or another. There are classic first editions here that you could not buy even with a year's worth of your family's salary. Some of these are even books you had piled up by your bed, waiting to read.

You whirl around in horror as the dawning realization hits you, and you come face to face with Prince Shouto. There is a gleam in his eyes that makes you understand that he knows precisely what you just realized. "What is the meaning of this," you try to make your voice come out strongly, but instead it comes out in a low whisper.

"I told you," he wraps an arm around you as he pulls you flush against his body, "this is going to be your library." His smile turns dark as he adds the next part. "When you become my wife."

When. Not if. No room for argument. No wiggle room. Just an absolute statement from the heir apparent of the Todoroki Empire. "You said you were given permission to court me," you try to say reasonably, "but saying when makes it seem like it is already decided. When my parents return from their diplomatic mission, I can always make them withdraw their permission."

He laughs outright at that, a motion that you can even feel being pressed so closely against him. "Ahh, my poor naive little princess." He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear that has loosened from your braids. "You assume that you'll even be given a chance to talk to them."

It feels like your heart falls all the way down into your stomach. "You can't keep me prisoner here," you try to say, but it sounds hollow even to your own ears. You are within the Royal Palace, in the arms of the Crown Prince. If he doesn't wish for anyone to see you, excuse after excuse could be made. And his family is so well loved that every single one of them would be believed.

You are trapped. Completely and utterly trapped. You can see no way of escape from this no matter how hard you try, and your breath begins to come out in short gasps. You can feel the walls closing in on you, as if you're being placed inside a cage from which you cannot escape.

If he notices your panic, then he gives no indication. He leans forward and kisses the top of your head. "I promise you, being married to me will not be so bad. You'll have everything you've ever wanted." He pulls you in for a heated kiss, his tongue deftly sliding into your mouth as he kisses you deeply. His hand comes to the back of your head, cupping it firmly so that there is no way out.

When he pulls away, your cheeks are slightly flushed, and you gasp for air. "Prince Shouto, please ---"

"There is a better word you can be using now, you know," he interrupts you.

A better term? You don't know what that would be as your mind struggles to keep up with everything that is happening. You try to slow your mind down, try to think of what he could possibly mean. And it finally hits you. You glance at him and see his amusement as he motions for you to go on.

A tear rolls down your face as you whisper the damning words. "Prince Shouto, my - my husband."

He smiles in sheer contentment at hearing those words from you, words that he's longed for ever since he first laid eyes on you. "Ah, now there's my good princess," he whispers as he kisses away the tear from your cheek.

A good princess, you think bitterly. You will not be thought of as a good princess when you free yourself. You only wish you could see the look on the prince’s face when he realizes his caged bird flew away.

~~~~

Tags: @burnedbyshoto, @shoutogepi, @thewheezingwyvern, @animewh0re, @dee-madwriter, @lildreamer93, @katsukisprincess, @yaoyorozuwrites, @redbeanteax, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @mimikarasu, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen,  @hoefortodo, @mhafanfics19, @oktamaki, @daringbanshee, @otaku-explosion, @hellomary16, @vanillaicebaby, @theravencawsatmidnight

[ssa-sugar-tits]

queen of hearts // chapter four

summary: y/n y/l/n was crushed when she found out about maeve donovan. heartbroken, she left her entire life behind. what happens when she becomes the most prolific serial killer the bau has ever seen?

prologue + series masterlist & taglist

content warnings: swearing, angst, implied/mentioned sex, restraints, blood, head injury, kidnap/hostage, alcohol, gunshot, murder

a/n: reader is a psychotic murderer. this is purely a work of fiction and if you or someone you know are experiencing homicidal urges, seek professional help immediately.

-

The room was filled with tension and an overwhelming sense of despair but no one said a word. No more hellish arguing, no irritatingly random facts, not even discussion to solve the case. Everyone worked on their angle of the case and despite the fact that no one would dare admit it, they all somewhat hoped that Y/N wouldn't be caught. Some hoped more than others but deep down they all felt a twinge of it. JJ walked into the room and spoke, startling the team and ripping them away from their thoughts and guilt.

"I've given a picture of her to the media, it's being circulated."

It pained her-- almost physically-- to have to hand over a picture of someone who'd been like family for so many goddamn years. She felt that she was betraying Y/N and that made her feel indescribably horrible.

"Now what? We just wait?" Morgan seemed to be the only one that really did want to stop her. Maybe he was angry that he hadn't seen the signs. Maybe he was angry that his best friend had just... left. Maybe he was angry that she lost herself so much. Maybe he blamed himself.

"What else is there to do Derek? Call me bad at my job- Hell, call all of us bad at our jobs but we can't profile her. Admit it, we're all biased. Too biased to think straight but there's no way we can give this case to another unit." Emily had always been so close to Y/N and was able to open up to her. Something she couldn't bring herself to do with most people. But you weren't most people, were you? Even with what Y/N could be doing, Emily doesn't have it in her to hate her. The sadness she was feeling must have shown because JJ squeezed Emily's hand and gave her a weak smile. And for the millionth fucking time, everyone stayed silent. Not even Spencer was saying anything and he is not the type to stay quiet this long. Believe it or not, that was actually one of the things Y/N had loved about him. Everyone rolled their eyes or cut him off but she loved to listen to him ramble. To everyone's surprise, she was always genuinely interested in what he had to say and that was one of the first things that made him fall in love with her. She never invalidated him or called him strange. Sometimes when she had a nightmare or experienced anxiety she'd even ask him talk to her about a random topic so she could focus on his voice until she calmed down. 

"Your voice is like... honey. In my ears." Spencer wanted to scream with emotional torture building up as he remembered how she'd laughed when she said that and how he'd had smiled at her with nothing but adoration and love.

"That seems unsanitary Y/N."

"You're such a smartass."

"Am I?"

"Definitely. But it's ok. I love that about you. I love you."

"I love you too."

She'd planted a sweet kiss on his lips before laying her head on his lap and listening to the rest of his topic rant. Still basking in the memory of Y/N, a sharp pain entered his hand and he realized he'd dug his crescent nails into the palm of his hand. And in that moment, he couldn't help but think about how much he'd love to be holding her hand right now.

"Guys!"

They all turned to Garcia, the source of the exclaim, who was walking in with Hotch.

"A bartender downtown says he just saw a woman matching Y/N's description leave with another man."

"She's chosen another victim? Here?" Rossi asked with confusion written on his face. "Up until now she's only killed 2 people per state and knowing the BAU has been called in, why is she staying here?"

JJ stepped in,

"This place is special to her, she has history here. Y/N must have an endgame but what is it?"

"The profile says she'll take as many people as she can with her. Probably suicide by cop."

Derek had accepted the situation. So why did that hurt to say?

"Rossi will go to the bar and talk to witnesses. Reid and Prentiss, stay here with Garcia. JJ and Morgan, PD is surveilling the radius around the bar and setting up roadblocks, come with me to help them."

"There's no way I'm staying here." Spencer objected.

Stay here and do nothing? Like hell.

"Neither am I, what the hell Hotch?"

"Reid, Prentiss that's an order. You're not going."

They both started to argue again but Hotch had already left. JJ and Derek followed and Rossi stood up with to leave for the bar. Apologetic looks were shot at Spencer and Emily because they all know why they have to stay behind. They're the two closest to her, the two that wouldn't be able to keep their emotions from affecting them on the field. And with that, off they all went.

-

Y/N's POV

-

The second you get to his hotel room, your lips crash against the handsome stranger. Your next victim. He pushes you against the wall and you moan loudly. His hands roam your body and you pull back.

"Hey... Go lie on the bed and wait for me."

Panting and staring at you with lust, he complies. Of course he does.

For God's sake. This man doesn't even know your name.

To be fair, Spence didn't even know Maeve's last name. And he still chose her.

You walk over to the eager man on the bed. Your hot breath on his neck, you lean close and whisper to him.

"We're going to do things my way."

He moans and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at him in disgust.

"Yes ma'am."

Taking out a rope, you tie him up and you know he thinks you're just a kinky slut. That's what they all see, isnt it? Suddenly something roars inside of you. Forgetting your usual routine, you pick up the lamp on the bedside table and smash it against him. Crimson stains the bed and you drop it, shocked by yourself. Yes, you've done worse. But it isn't the act that's sending regret and nausea through your body, it's that you're devolving. You're losing control.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Starting to panic, you take the unconscious man and check for a pulse. He's still alive.

Giving him a shower (much to your disdain) and change of clothes, you put his arm over your shoulder and walk out of the room giggling as you pass one of the housekeepers.

"Baby, you're such a lightweight! Let's get you out of here."

The housekeeper barely gives you a second glace but when she enters the room of the man you've taken, she starts to scream and you know you're running out of time.

Run. Drag him. Just hurry the hell up.

Finally at his car, you take him to the small studio you own downtown. No one can find you here. It's been yours for nearly a decade and you aren't stupid enough to have told anyone about it or put it under your name. Granted, you'd never thought you'd have to use it to hide out from the feds, it's still useful. After taking a look at the brightly colored wall in your basement, you feel a sense of sudden pain race through your veins. You used to be normal. You used to have a life.

-

The man is chained up, gagged, and bleeding but you can't even remember doing anything to him. What you need is numbness. They thought the other bodies were bad? Wait til they fucking see what you do with him. Pain shoots through your skull again and you wince and fall to the ground.

"Fuck. I- I need a drink." you stammer to no one in particular but yourself.

A wig and sunglasses make you look different enough from the woman being circulated to take the bus to a nearby gas station. Walking down the liquor aisle of the store, you hum a song to yourself and let the AC blow on your skin. Vision blurred, you bite your lip and taste the unmistakable strong metallic taste of your own blood. Still humming that fucking song. The song you'd danced to with Spencer in your living room before you'd made love for the first time.

"You cannot be serious!"

"Y/N! I can't dance."

"Oh come on. How bad can you be?  Seriously, the songs going to end and it'll be too late."

"Yes, that's what I'm hoping for."

"Psh. Don't tell me Doctor Reid is scared to sway around a little."

"Shut up."

"Make me." you laughed.

With one playful look, you dared him to shut you up in the most passionate, sensual way he could. But instead he put his warm hands on your hips and swayed to the song. You melted into his touch and your breaths synced as you laid your head on his chest. His heart beat was steady and calming. One hand reached for yours and intertwined before twirling you and pulling you back in to dance. He'd held you until it was over and brought your chin up to his face. The kiss was so intense, so loving. He tilted his head and pulled you tighter to get as close as he could to you. His tongue met yours and your mouths bathed in each other's taste. Running a hand through your hair, you'd started to unbutton his shirt. He'd been taken aback at first but then picked you up and placed you in the bedroom ever so softly. Placing gentle kisses all over each other's bodies and undressing for the other, you made raw, breathtaking love for the first of many times.

"Hey lady! Get out of the way!"

"W-What?..." You tremble and realize you're crying on the floor of the aisle.

"I said get out of the damn way, some of us got places to be."

The man is clearly batshit drunk. Probably here to buy his next fix. Shaking and letting yourself actually feel your emotions, you stand and use the wall to balance yourself.  The man that yelled at you curses to himself as his phone rings and he picks it up.

"Hell do you want? Thought you were still mad about Andrea."

Andrea? Mad about Andrea. Another cheater. Another liar. Right? It has to be.

Before you can process what you're doing-- how irrational it is-- the gunshot rings through the store and everyone turns to see the man before you on the ground, screaming and spitting blood. A mix of a laugh and a sob escapes you and you scream.

"Everyone on the fucking ground! If I see any cellphones, I'll shoot you just like this dickhead. Got it?"

Frightened people drop to the ground and you start to yell, incoherent bullshit again. You smash the freezer glass behind you and open an expensive bottle of bourbon.

You practically whimper having to take deep gasps in between words, but in a somehow still confident, fearless tone.

"Now let's have some fucking fun."

-

But what you didn't know was that the cashier in the front had sent a text 5 minutes earlier.

Call 911! The girl from the news, the Queen of Hearts. She's in the store.

What you didn't know was that the woman that recieved the text had called immediately.

911, what's your emergency?

What you didn't know was that the BAU was on their way.

-

[ask-hunterxhunter]

Headcanons for Hisoka, Illumi, and Chrollo losing their female s/o to childbirth? Like the moment labor starts their s/o is in unbearable pain and she bleeds too much and passes away. How would they cope with losing one of the few people they actually love & having to be responsible for a baby on their own now? Thank u so much :3

Hisoka

This is one of the few occasions when Hisoka is lost for a while. Even as he holds your hand and feels life leaving your body, he just doesn’t react immediately. It’s not he never considered you dying before, it’s just that it doesn’t feel real when it happens. You can’t be gone. You just can’t… It’s like this event has no place in reality. It’s also one of the few occasions when Hisoka becomes a little more… Sentimental. Oh, not while the doctors are in the room (in fact, his lack of bigger reaction will either be considered shock or him being a cold bastard in their eyes), but once they leave him alone with your body… Hisoka doesn’t cry, he doesn’t scream, but he brushes your face gently as he says goodbye…

 All in all, he seems to be taking it rather well, right?

 Wrong. Dear Lord, wrong.

 When he arrives home, Hisoka just sits for a moment… And screams. He isn’t someone who takes refuge in denial, he doesn’t go on how this isn’t happening… But it doesn’t make acceptance easier. As used to death as Hisoka is, he has always been a lone wolf who never cared for anyone else but you. Accepting the death of a loved one is never easy for anyone, but we can’t say Hisoka is exactly well-prepared or adjusted for such things.

 His initial reaction is downright scary. He screams, his bloodlust overflows (it’s the only way he knows how to deal with things), but there isn’t anyone to blame, anyone to go after (it’s sad, but those things do happen), just this awful pain. The façade he keeps just drops and everything just overflows and fills the room. It’s suffocating and terrifying.

 What stops him? The baby crying. Hisoka is not exactly an emotional guy, he isn’t used to dealing with those deeper emotions, but remember that he wouldn’t enter a real relationship (let alone have a child with you) if his feelings weren’t this serious. So, yes, it might be strange to imagine Hisoka caring for a baby, but this is his child. Yours and his. As soon as he hears the cries, he stops and remembers he is a father now. And yes, he does love the baby.

 He isn’t feeling any better, but he holds the baby and tries to calm down.

 Hisoka won’t admit it to anyone ever, however, he is almost scared now. He had admitted to you he had no idea of how to be a father (and was pretty sure he wasn’t the best material for the role), and now he has to be a single father. Does that seem like a good idea? He already admitted to Illumi he has issues. Just because he’s happy with his lifestyle and doesn’t give a crap and has no intention to change, doesn’t mean he is so much of a bastard that he doesn’t care about his own child!

 Simply put, he has no idea what to do.

 Wherever your soul is, you can at least rest knowing Hisoka will do his best. Will he change his lifestyle? No more than he absolutely has to (so, very little). Will he mess up? Yes. Like everyone does. Will he love this child and do the best he can? Yes. Will he care for them? Yes. He might not be the best father ever, but he won’t be an awful one, either.

 Yet, Hisoka will never recover from losing you.

 And just because he calms down after your death because he scared his child, it doesn’t mean he will remain calm. In fact, he may (try to) deal with it the only way he knows how: By turning to violence. He’ll be staying at Heaven’s Arena for a while and people will at once fear that they’ll have to fight him because Hisoka won’t just “not attend” the match. It’s doesn’t matter who it is or how strong they are: Hisoka will be there. And this won’t be even a fight as much as murder: He will be going after blood.

 It won’t help as much as he hopes. By the end of the day, even if he uses fighting as an escape valve for what happened, he is still hurting and you’re still dead.

 Illumi

To put it in one word? Badly.

 Being pregnant with Illumi’s child (well, anyone from the Zoldyck, really) means you’ll have the best care money can afford (and God knows this means top care), but the fact remains that those things still can happen. Not that this means much for Illumi. Remember he doesn’t care for anyone beyond his family, so the fact that he wanted to start a family of his own with you already speaks volumes for how much he valued you. At first, he is in shock. You can’t have just left you, it’s impossible, you’re his wife, you weren’t supposed to die, this was to be the happiest day of both of your lives… But he won’t be able to refuse the fact that you died for more than a couple of seconds.

 If he even suspects there was a mistake, that the doctors weren’t careful enough, anything, he’ll take it out on them (if by a lawsuit or by taking matters in his own hands, it depends), because people often want someone to blame, somewhere to focus their pain on and Illumi is one of them. Once the initial shock of the loss pass, he will want to know exactly what happened and why you died.

 Not that this will bring any comfort. Even if a doctor can be blamed for what happened and Illumi deals with them, this won’t bring you back. There’s no satisfaction. There’s nothing.

 As unemotional as Illumi can be, this is one of those rare cases when it looks like all the emotions he keeps away (or doesn’t seem to have at all) just explode. Think about when he felt Alluka’s power… That is tame compared to how it will be then. The only change is the nature of this explosion. I repeat: The loss of someone you love, no matter how it happens, is always painful and can always be traumatic. It doesn’t help that Illumi is, well, how he is. This event won’t help Illumi’s mental state and it might, in fact, push him further into his darkness (after all, it isn’t as if he sees anything wrong with himself to make him want to change for starters).

 It's hard to tell how Illumi will deal with the loss. We know it won’t be in a normal way, let alone one we could consider healthy, but there is the presence of his family to be taken into account as they will offer support and help as much as they can which might help to reign him back a little. While he might seem to be okay with being killed by someone he “cares about” such as Killua in order to “be kept in their hearts” or controlling them with needles “for their own safety”, but losing them to death? Something that can’t ever be fixed? Not the same.

 As much as his family might try to help (despite being how they are, they are still somewhat more balanced than he is), there is a limit to how much they will be able to do so. Illumi may dedicate himself to the job more than never, go after Killua (in an “I already lost my wife, I won’t lose my brother” frame of mind), or anything else that may give him the sensation of recovering control in his life and that demands attention. Again, hard to predict exactly how he will deal with it, but it won’t be by keeping good memories, remembering he will see her again in heaven or anything remotely healthy.

 Regarding the baby, he won’t abandon them (as if!) and will dedicate himself to raise them well, but the problem is that without you around to “balance” his behaviour and beliefs, his methods might be worse than what his parents did to him. Illumi won’t remember your words or will just “twist” them to fit his views. Not out of disrespect for your memory, but because he truly believes in his family’s methods. Yes, he will love the baby, very much so, but again… This is Illumi we’re talking about.

 On a note, about Alluka, despite his desire to do something about your death, he won’t be dumb/desperate enough to consider using Nanika’s power to bring you back, at least until he is 100% sure this won’t backfire on him (and chances are, it will anyway. I mean, when did this sort of thing ever work for anyone who tried? Read “Pet Sematary”, “Monkey’s Paw” and whatever else deals with the subject. He is twisted, not stupid).

 Chrollo

Surprisingly, despite being a criminal, Chrollo can make sure you are well-cared for during pregnancy and when the time comes to give birth, you’ll have great doctors. Sadly, again, this doesn’t mean death by childbirth cannot happen (it depends on several things, even if you have top healthcare).

 As someone who lives so close to death and who has little to no care for human life, Chrollo doesn’t have a moment of denial. Being in the room while you give birth, he feels life leaving you and a part of him seems to go with you… He tells the doctors to do something, to help you, but it’s too late. And he knows it. He has killed enough people to know when they are gone with no chance of getting back. He stays with you for a while, not talking, not crying, just holding your hand as if you were asleep.

 Because the Spider has so many enemies, he will make sure it was indeed an accident and not someone trying to take revenge by killing you or anything of the sort (and if it turns out this is what happened, well, everyone involved is as good as dead). And also because of his lifestyle, you might think he will be somewhat better prepared for this event and know how to deal with it…

 Well… No, not really. Losing you is worse than losing another member of the Spider, as it is more personal. Chrollo doesn’t make a show of how much this hurts him while there are others around (in fact, even with the Spiders he might keep his emotions under control), but when he is alone, he doesn’t care to keep a façade of calmness. Differently from Hisoka or Illumi, this won’t be an explosion of rage or a long scream, but it won’t be less of a huge blow: Chrollo feels lost and for a moment, he can’t even focus on the Troupe or what to do. He just feels your absence and a future he can no longer have while he holds the baby close.

 Although he is used to “carry on” when a member of the Spider dies (and searching for whoever killed them to get revenge), this is different: Not only because he has no one to blame for, but again, it’s far more personal. You were his partner, the person he wanted to start a family with… He never allowed anyone to get this close, keeping his focus on the Troupe and its objectives and now he has to deal with losing you forever. He knows he needs to carry on. He knows there is nothing he can do now except caring for the baby and continuing with his plans. In a sense, his rational side continues to work because Chrollo basically programmed himself to be like this with the years of being who he is.

 Only that this doesn’t help when emotions, that are far harder to be controlled, get involved. There is no other way of putting this: Your death leaves Chrollo devasted. And this depression may last a long time. He may get to the point of continuing his plans, keeping the Troupe’s goals and all, but underneath it all, there will be this hollowness that just won’t go away. If Senritsu was to hear his heartbeat, she would point out how worse it became.

 The members of the Troupe that are closest to him, such as Machi, will know that Chrollo needs help in this moment, not as a villain or as their boss, but as a human being who lost a loved one (considering how many people they took away from their loved ones without a care, you’re free to call them hypocrites). It must be said that this help will be balanced: Enough to remind Chrollo he is not as alone as he behaves and not pushing to the point of being suffocating.

 Because of that and also due to Chrollo’s ability to not lose focus despite emotional turmoil, as depressed as he gets, he won’t forget that he has a child to think about now: The uncertainty that one feels when having to be a single father is present, he isn’t sure of how he’ll balance being the Troupe’s leader with protecting and raising a child. He isn’t just going to forsake the Spiders, but he won’t just drop the kid in an orphanage and take off (unless there is so much danger closing on him that he literally has no choice, but the chances are preeetty slim). Some members of the Troupe may help Chrollo in this department (such as Machi or Pakunoda, if she is still alive when this happens) as he finds ways to reach this balance between his goals and his personal life.

[ajokeformur-ray]

👰593 days with you.💐

@loveletterstoledger​ made this beautiful moodboard for me after I sent her some initial ideas (and, naturally, what she came up with is 1000000 x better than anything I was able to come up with myself!) and darling, I cannot thank you enough for making me such a stunning piece of art. These are all my own pictures (except the picture of myself and Joker, which was also put together by you🥰💖) and what you created with them is wonderful. Thank you, darling. Thank you, thank you, thank you.💜💙💗🌸

Below the cut is an emotional letter written by me, addressed to Joker. There is no obligation to interact with this post. This is a purely self-indulgent post and I make no apologies. This is an important milestone for me and if I were anyone else, I’d encourage them to celebrate it as much as they want to... so I’m taking my own advice!🥰💖

Dearest Joker, 

I’ve been thinking about writing this letter to you for weeks and now, on the eve of our anniversary, I must stop thinking and start doing. I know that even if I forget to say something here, you will feel it within what is said and you’ll understand... Joker, my love, you always understand me. 

For 593 days, there hasn’t been a single moment in which I haven’t felt understood and accepted. You have been through so much in your life. For thirty-five years, you received nothing but shit. As a result of this, there is nothing you can't understand. It breaks my heart, but all the same I love you all the more for your unending understanding and your wisdom. You have taught me much about the world, about myself and about you. You taught me how to let you in, how to love, how to be and how to breathe. Honey, you tried so, so hard for so long and you were only ever beaten and run down, used and abused, mistreated and lied to and society was always going to beat you down no matter what you did. I feel like you knew it but you kept pushing through anyway, because what more could you do? I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be with you through everything you went through before you and I met, dear heart. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t take every punch, every kick, every insult. Would that I could, my love, I would take every mocking and every humiliation, every shift, every day you went without eating because you could only afford to feed one person on your salary. I would take every laughing attack. I would buy all of your medications, buy you new clothes because you have had the same ones since high school. I would make sure that you ate every meal, that I was there to pull you out of the fridge at 3 AM, to pull you out of the unforgiving cold and into the warmth of my embrace. I would take every evil thing you went through and encountered, I would take all of your pains away for my own (without changing a single thing about you) if it meant that you knew nothing but love and peace for the rest of your life.

Because that’s what you deserve, Joker.

Arthur. 

You deserve nothing but the best of everything good in this world and I would set the world ablaze just to give that to you. Just to see you really smile, I would strike a match to burn the world to the fucking ground. You inspire me, every single day, to do more and to be more. You inspire me to keep going (step step step...), to keep trying... to get through every day. When I lay awake at 2 AM staring at my ceiling and willing for sleep to come, you find me there at threshold consciousness and you climb into bed beside me and you stay. When I struggle to find a reason to get out of bed, you’re there to haul me up with a gentle smile and a strong hand. When I don’t want to eat because what’s the point? I’ll only be hungry later, you’re there with a set jaw and a plate which is set in front of me before I can protest. When I have a nightmare or a scare, you’re there to shush me and to settle me back down. With my pillow and with your arms becoming the safest cage I’ve ever known, I find sleep eventually. With you, I find it all. When I can’t find the energy to shower or brush my hair, you’re there to do it with me. You never do things for me. You do them with me, so that I know I’m not alone, so that I know there is someone beside me in those moments when I am physically alone. 

You are so beautiful in so many ways and I can never describe you without resorting to celestial terms. You’re my fallen angel, my light in the dark and my reason. Your name is the one I speak in times of need and my thoughts always return to you; as my body comes home, so too must my soul, and I find everything in you. We met a lifetime ago, it feels like, and you found me at a time when I was ready to give it all up, to end it all in the most permanent of ways... you found me and you held me and you brought me back into myself. You saved me, Joker, and every day since then, you have found me again and again and you have made me into who I am today. You tore me down and built me back up with threads of gold to bind the cracks of my heart. There’s nothing romantic in falling apart, but you help me every day to keep going, to try again and again and again, and every night, you’re there to coax me into sleep even when my mind is screaming at me to do and to be more even when I’ve taken myself beyond the point of exhaustion. 

I never expected to fall in love with you. I never thought I was even capable of love before I met you. You have liberated me emotionally, physically... you have given me and shown me a whole other side of life, and I would not be who I am today without your place, a permanent fixture, in my life. We were only together for five months when I proposed to you, and I will never be able to thank you enough for saying yes to me that day. I never expected us, my love, but I wouldn’t trade what we share for the world. I’d make the opposite trade in a heartbeat, however.

I love you, Joker. So much it hurts in the best way. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, there is no one I wouldn’t go up against for you. I wish so badly that I could protect you, shield you, but above all I wish that I could love you in all the ways that you deserve to be. We are hurt and we are tired, but we’re together and that’s the most important thing, isn’t it? In our pain did we find love, and that’s such a beautiful bond for us to have forged from the fires of the Hells which have plagued us in our lives. I wish not to fix you, for there is nothing to be fixed, but I wish to help you, to love you and to protect you and to aid you in finding peace and closure within yourself. I want nothing but the best for you, in all things. 

There is so much more I could say, there is so much I want to say, but just as you always do, have you brought me to the moment where words run dry and all I have is my heart, cradled tenderly in your hands. You are my one and I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you all the ways I love you. Not just in who I am, but in what I do, for this next academic endeavour is for you, because of you. I shall always try to be someone you can be proud of, someone you can love and someone you can be glad to have met. Dearest husband, I love you, I love you, I love you. You are my true love, my whole heart, the reason my soul breathes as often as it does.

Happy one year of marriage, my knight in red, and here’s to many more!

Forever and a day,

Erika Fleck.

💗💗💗💗

[shhhlikeme]

“Losty Aone” / “Losty Mountain Man🏔” Series:

Outtake Collection #14:

———————————

TABLE OF CONTENTS

———————————

Kenji & Kanji Try To Purge Aone’s life of Y/N 😂🙄 - STEP ONE 

Since Y/N is back at school and life will get that much harder for Aone Takanobu, The problematic K_nji’s devise a plan to help their white haired middle blocker survive his heartbreak.

In Aone’s den, Futakuchi stood facing the couches like Captain America while Koganegawa stuffed his face with half of Aone’s fridge and Aone was sitting on the arm chair as if he had been called to the principals office, because, well—he kind of had. 

“While I am very happy you got Aone-san out of his room, what is this about, dad? Can I put on the baseball game now? You’re standing in front of the tv” 

“No, and shut up. I’m recording it and you know that.” 

Kanji pouted, lifting the bag of chips upside down so that the crumbs dumped in his mouth. The chips spilled down his chest and Kenji fumed, scoffing.

“What?! LIKE YOU DIDN’T SPILL THE ORANGE JUICE THIS MORNING AND I HAD TO CLEAN IT UP—“

“Oh boo hoo you big baby It’s the least you can do since I do your freaking laundry—“

“Kusa didn’t call me a big baby when we were on the phone last night—“ 

“Oh? But she sure wanted to when you lost the arm wrestling match to me yesterday and you almost crie—“

“Stop bickering. Or I am leaving.” Aone warned. While he wasn’t speaking as much as he used to, he was getting better within the privacy of his own home, now Uttering several sentences a day only to the two boys that lived with him. Takanobu was even leaving his room a bit more now to spend time with them, whether that be to watch one movie or tv show and then scurry back to his room when he got too sad again. Hey, they would take it.

Kenji shook his head. “Fuck, sorry. Don’t leave. I called you both here because I think it’s about time we did something, Aone. I made a plan to help you, and told this one about it.” 

Mountain Man narrowed his eyes, not sure if he liked where this is going or not. “A…..Plan……” He repeated lowly. 

Kenji nodded. “Yup.” 

“I am not following.” 

Futakuchi was about to explain before Kanji gasped. “OH! IS THIS ABOUT OPERATION: HELP AONE-SAN DEAL WITH HIS BROKEN HEART?!”

Kenji glared at his underclassmen. “That is not what it’s called you idiot. But yes.”

Aone’s face remained rock hard. Kenji mirrored his expression. 

The two 3rd years were completely quiet for a while as they had a silent conversation about whether Aone should agree to this plan or not.

The big boned setter just munched on his snacks while looking between the two of them in fascination. “It’s so cool how you guys do that.” He complimented with a mouthful. 

They continued their speechless chat.

After a minute, Aone broke the silence.

“…….You know how to make the pain……stop?” He asked seriously, his voice cracking from lack of use.

Kenji nodded, crossing his arms, still standing like Captain America. “I think so. But there are multiple steps.” Kenji stopped pacing for a second to stand in front of the white haired giant. “Starting with…. What’s your phone background right now?” 

Aone shrugged and moved a bit to slip his iPhone out of his back pocket. He handed his phone to Futakuchi’s awaiting hand. When Futakuchi pressed the home button to look at it, he immediately let out a loud exasperated sigh.

“Oh hell no.” 

“What is it?!” Asked Kogane, imitating a chipmunks spunk.

Kenji showed the screen to him, who widened his eyes when he saw it and shook his head!

“What is wrong with my background?” Losty Aone asked. 

“It’s of freaking Airhead and Perdu!!! Absolutely -the fuck not. I’m changing it.” 

“Do not call her an Airhead, please...” Aone raised his voice an octave, clearly upset with his friend who knew better.

Kenji only smirked. “Gotcha. Force of habit. Still changing it though.”

Sad, baby Aone thought about protesting—but stopped himself because he thought about how badly he really did want this all-encompassing heartache to let up, even if just a little. If he was going to deal with his unrequited love for you forever, he might as well accept help to make it a bit more bearable. As of right now it was torture, so if his brunette friend knew how to fix that—alright. 

Aone’s heart sunk when he realized Kenji had switched the photo to one of Perdu alone. While he loved that specific photo of his precious turtle, he loved the one with you smiling and wearing him as a hat even more. You are so so so so pretty and so fun.

“That was step one.” Kenji stated loudly, knowing where Aone’s mind headed and snapped him out of it. He began to pace again like a drill sergeant. 

———————————

Kenji & Kanji Try To Purge Aone’s life of Y/N 😂🙄 - STEP TWO 📸🗑

step two was almost abandoned because Aone was not allowing his friends to delete all the photos of Y/N from his camera roll. 

“Let. Go. Mom!!!” Whined Koganegawa as he tried to pry the phone out of his senpais hands. Both he and Futakuchi were tugging with all of their combined might and they still weren’t able to retrieve the device. 

“No. It was a very happy time in my life.” Aone stated, not even breaking a sweat yet as he battled for purchase.

“I SAID I’m not going to delete them! Just gonna send them to my phone for the time being!” Kenji growled, pushing his foot into the couch for more leverage as he tugged. 

Aone still remained unfazed. “No. I know you, Futakuchi-san. You will delete them.” 

Kenji sighed loudly. 

“Okay! I would have. HAPPY I ADMITTED IT? Then, forget me! We will send them to the big boned setter. He won’t delete them, he’s too nice!” 

Kanji fell on his butt as he kept pulling like: 

“Yeah! I would never—UGH how the frick are you so STRONG—delete them, mom!” 

Aone shook his head still. “I truly believe you that you would not delete them, Koganegawa. However, you lose and or break your phone on a trimonthly basis. So I cannot trust you to be a good gatekeeper, either.” 

“We will upload them to Kogane’s iCloud then!!!” Kenji yelled, twisting his arms in an attempt at a better grip. “That way they can never be deleted—“ 

Aone contemplated this. “Hmmmmmm.....” He grunted. 

“Listen to dad, mom, he’s right! Plus.....I know you don’t have social media but if you really wanted to see Y/N you could just go to her Instagram page and—AHHHHHHHH!” 

The two boys toppled over on the carpeted floors because Aone let go of his phone. Not even a little out of breath, Aone nodded. “It hurts to see her…. so I should really take them off, I guess. I will agree to take them off temporarily and upload to Kogane’s iCloud. If I want them back, I get them back immediately. I’ll admit it does make me feel better that I could check her social media page if I really need to see her smile. Staring at photos of our relationship all night did intrude on my sleep. So As long as my photos are not deleted, that should be fine. And Sorry. I hope I did not hurt either of you.” He stated solemnly. 

The two athletes laid flat on the ground, chests heaving, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Deal.” They said in unison.

———————————

Kenji & Kanji Try To Purge Aone’s life of Y/N 😂🙄 - STEP THREE 🙈💥

“Step Three: Avoid that Bimb— uh I mean your ex at all costs. She’s takes one way to class? Start taking the long route. She’s cheering in the gym? Stay outdoors. She’s in the cafeteria? I promise to order us Uber Eats or something and we will eat anywhere else. Normally, the best way to get over a chick is to cut her off cold turkey—but since you are forced to see her 5 days a week at school, the only option is makeshift block out. Pretend she’s still home sick.” 

Kogane snorted. “Haha. You’re good at blocking on the court so this kinda blocking should be a piece of cake, Aone-san, ITAI!!!” The Big Boned setter folded his body in two in order to caress his right toes that his brunette senpai just crushed by stepping on. He tried to swing but Kenji dodged it. “Aoneeee!!!!!!” Kogane whined. 

“Futakuchi, stop hurting our kouhei.”

Kenji smiled, ignoring the whines of the setter. “Got it. Anyway, Aone-san, any questions?” 

Aone shook his head. “Truthfully.... my heart didn’t hurt as severely when she wasn’t at school. The pain is at about an 85 when I am alone or I don’t see her, which is still awful, but whenever I do see her, smell her, or hear her—the pain jumps to about a 130. So perhaps avoiding her is best. I doubt she wants to see me anyway.” 

Kenji grumbled. “I don’t care what she wants to see. Our priority is you: not her. Okay?” 

Aone nodded slowly. 

Koganegawa cut the tension then. wish he hadn’t. “Hey, Aone-san, you should be trying to avoid Y/N-chan at all times no matter what though because from what Ive seen she’s constantly being asked out by all these guys. I even heard guys in my class hoping to have a shot with her but I told them—“ 

Kenji didn’t even need to harm another hair on the setter’s head because the combined menacing glare coming from both Takanobu and Futakuchi told the setter all he needed to know:

(In which Kenji is Regina and Aone is the principal):

“Uh......sorry. I’ll shut up…….. but if it’s any consolation…….. I heard Y/N is rejecting every single guy—even the football team captain who has apparently liked her for a while and when he heard you two broke up he actually said that—“

Kenji started glowering at Kogane like: 

“Uhh....... I think I’m going to use the bathroom….” Kogane started, getting up with his tail between his legs. 

“You do that.” Kenji seethed.

———————————

Kenji & Kanji Try To Purge Aone’s life of Y/N 😂🙄 - STEP FOUR 🍆💭

“Step Four. And we’re all brothers here so I’m just gonna come out and say it, okay?” 

Aone nodded. He had nothing to hide from his two best friends—especially since they had now seen him at his utter worst—so he was all ears. Aone accepted the fact that with these steps he honestly felt like he could manage this heartbreak one day. Not get over you, that was out of the question—but maybe not act like a zombie anymore so that maybe you’d see some worth in him as a friend…..perhaps. 

Listening, Aone didn’t understand why his confident captain looked so nervous all of a sudden to introduce step four. 

“Aone-san...um.... What’s going on with your…..uh…….y’know......” for some strange reason, Kenji couldn’t meet his friend’s eyes. 

“My....y’know?” Aone asked, rather perplexed. 

Kenji sighed in response.

“OH!!!! I remember step four! Don’t worry Futakuchi-senpai, if you’re too nervous... I can say it! Basical—“ 

“—No!” Kenji scrambled to try and stop him, but Kanji spoke fast. And loud. 

“Are you still jerking off to thoughts of Y/N?” 

Aone clasped his mouth shut as a deep blush overtook his pale features. He immediately looked down, realizing he would rather have the pictures of you deleted than confront this part. 

“Well fuck. Do you have any shame?” 

“We are trying to help him, and you’re stuttering like my moms Michael Jackson records. What are you, FIVE?!”

“Grrrrrrrrrrr—“ 

Aone interrupted with his answer, calmly. “The answer is no. Not really.” 

Kenji deadpanned at the reply, his attention leaving the big boned setter. “What do you mean, not really?! That was a yes or no question!” 

“Yeah, mom, I don’t see how you can ‘no not really’ think about Y/N while you—“

“Don’t say it again.” Snapped Kogane’s parents in unison. 

“Sure thing!” Kanji opened the bag of popcorn and started digging in instead. 

Aone looked away. “What I mean is.......no, I’m not still pleasuring myself to thoughts of Y/N…..not successfully. And not for lack of effort, I should say. I wish she didn’t still arouse me as much as she does, but I think I crave her even more now because my feelings have not stopped getting stronger….. I miss her touch.... so when I think about her— her healthy hair, and her expressive eyes, and her smooth skin, and her soft, supple, incredibly soft lips......” Aone paused to bite his own lip, feeling a stir below. Without meaning for them to, his thoughts on your beauty got the better of him. “When I think about her in her bikini, or her cheerleading uniform, or in the genie costume............ or in the birthday lingerie on my day of birth I just........” 

“Imma stop you right there.” Kenji started, familiar with the tone Aone was using because he’d heard it in many a wet dream descriptions before. “So you do still .... y’know .... to thoughts of Y/N.” 

Snapping back into reality, Aone shook his head. “Not exactly. I attempt not to, but because she is still the most attractive girl I’ve ever seen and thoughts of her excite me beyond belief...I can’t help myself .... but then every single time I begin to get into it, my depressive thoughts of the break up end up flooding in and before I know it, the mood is long gone, washed away by my clenching heartache. It basically happens every night.” 

“WHOA. Man. Now I for realllll understand how much your heartbreak must be hurting, Aone, because you mentioned Y/N in the cheer uniform, the costume, and the lingerie, but I mean you’ve also seen Y/N naked, haven’t you Aone-san ?! She must look soooooo fucking hot..... For something to make you feel so terrible that it gets the image of one of the hottest girls in the school naked out of your mind I would say that our steps won’t even work for you, at all, I mean—“ 

Kenji cleared his throat loudly again at his underclassmen, mentally planning how he was going to kill him in his sleep tonight:

Kogane stopped talking. He shrunk in his seat, pretending to busy himself with.....absolutely anything else. “Sorry. Forget I said anything.”

How absolutely clueless his kouhai was lead Aone face to let out the tiniest of a smile. Something Futakuchi hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. Only Kenji caught it, and it made the brunette feel like maybe all hope was not lost. 

Maybe. 

———————————

Outtake #15: CLICK HERE

[ktheist]

twelve.

chapters:  11 / 12 / 13 

knight!jungkook x princess!reader

x

“Your highness!” Eunha, your new maid, calls and at some point, you think she might have tried to run after you but proved to be no match for your legs. The same legs that have carried you into battlefield, slashing through the bodies of your enemies who might have been her father, brother or cousin just less than six months ago when your kingdoms were at war.

Blood was spilled and lives were lost.

It might be Taehyung’s tonight, as you found out about the shocking revelation Eunha blissfully mentioned of the unfortunate tale of a royal guard stealing the Prince and Princess’ dinner in the royal kitchen. To feed the son of a farmer that came to deliver some goods.

The Prince had saw it and ordered for him to be locked in the top cell of the left wing in isolation. Contempt of the royal family. Shameful. Disgraceful. Or so they say but your only take away was a emphatic, compassionate officer doing what the crown should have.

The ice cold prickles of the marble floor soon turns into roughed, dirt ground as you ascend the swirly staircase. On any other occasion, you would have preferred to take your time reaching the top, being well aware that the architecture is bound to unbalance you greatly but not tonight.

Tonight, your mind is fixed on a single goal. A wishful thinking perhaps.

“You dare lay your hands on your future Queen.” The hardened gaze you give the guard that tried to apprehend you is fierce and strict but the pendant of the royal family’s emblem is probably what made him retreat and bow.

“B-but your highness, the prince -” he fumbles with his words, legs almost caving under. You suspect if you’d tip him over, he’ll go tumbling down the stairs.

“Take this.” You barely manage to swallow the bile on your throat as you yank the pendant off your neck. The spot between your cleavage where it lied feels as heavy as your heart for what you’re about to do. “It’s worth enough to sustain your whole family for the next winter.”

One heartbeat. Two heartbeat. He hands out his hand on the third, head hung low as though he couldn’t bear to witness the beginning of his disloyalty towards his King.

And he shall learn, one way or another, that the crown he so devotedly serves has close to no care for its people.

Though the King seems more humane than his wife and son, the war that doomed your country could not have happened if he had not approved it.

“Jungkook!”

The words left you before you even manage to step into the cell that’s barely a quarter the size of your chambers where a wall-sized window permeated endless source of light and gorgeous view of the garden while a squared hole in the wall is the only thing keeping this god forsaken prison without light. Somewhere in the corner, the fire of a candle waves at the presence of an additional company.

His arms are skinnier than you remember when he gathers you in a longing embrace yet the strength of his hold does not change. It’s the same hold that offers you security and support on nights you are at your most fragile.

“Princess,” the hoarseness in his voice breaks your heart, “how did you get here?”

Calling for the guard that’s stood outside, you order for him to sneak into the worker’s kitchen, “get some water and some bread. plenty of those - oh for heaven’s sake go! we’re not going to run away!”

Jungkook cups your face and wipes away the tears you didn’t know were falling down your cheeks like waterfall. The fingerpads of his hand feels more callous than the last time he caresses your face as you fall asleep but the roughness affirms more than ever that this isn’t just some dream like the many dreams you’ve had of being reunited with your knight.

“Forgive me,” you hiccup, “I-I didn’t know -”

He presses your face into the crook between his neck and shoulder where you find solace in his warmth as he rocks you back and forth, hushed whispers spoken into your ears.

You didn’t want to let go when the scrawny guard comes bursting into the minute prison with what you asked for, cowering backwards when he sees the sight of his soon-to-be Queen in the arms of a man who’s not his Crown Prince.

At the very least though, Jungkook manages to find humor in your childlike tantrum. The vibration of the laugh all too familiar yet surreal.

“You’ve just found me alive, don’t you want to keep it like that?’ He bargains, receiving a smack on his chest at any notion of death doing you apart.

“It’s not funny.”

He pulls the tray left by the guard a few feet away from his feet, relishing in freshly made bread and taking generous gulps of water from the bucket that comes with the sustenance.

All the while, his left hand is always touching you in some way, be it around your shoulders or presently, interlocked with your right hand.

“Let’s run away,” by dawn, you’ve calmed down enough to find yourselves in each others’ arms, lain on a straw mat on the dirtied ground, “you and me.”

“Princess,” Jungkook’s thumb is on your chin and you’re forced to look into those brown eyes that holds nothing but gentleness, “you were born for something so great that to succumb to your wish to run away would be a crime.”

“It’s my only wish,” you clutch a handful of his shirt on his chest, it feels odd not having the coldness of the armor shock you anymore yet this way, you can feel his beating heart if the world is quiet enough.

“It’s the one wish I cannot grant you,” he sits up, hand covering yours as though he’s begging you not to implore, “will I see you tonight?”

He presses his lips to yours when you take a bit too long to answer. It’s too easy to lose yourself in his arms when he’s holding you so close. Yet the thought of what will happen once you step out of this prison makes your chest tighten and the line of your shoulder a little straighter.

“We’re not done discussing this.”

He waves you off with a smile that says every parting is a goodbye. Every sneaking in is an surety hung loosely over the promises of a bag of shillings for the young guard whose name you learned is Beomgyu.

Your nights are spent sneaking past the guards (a specialty honed from your younger days in your own castle) and your mornings are spent with the family you wed into and the council.

Until one day, a messenger boy comes bursting into your study as you discuss the betterment of the political status between the Southern and Northern Kingdoms. 

The mountain people have accepted the treaty in exchange for fur coats, breads and horses. The King, at the news, roared with laughter as he brought the silver chalice to the air.

“A toast to my dearest daughter,” he nods at you, “for achieving peace since my great great-grandfather’s rule and even then, it was my great great grandmother who struck the treaty.” 

“To her highness,” Sir Park is the first to break the silence, joined by the rest of the councils but not without suppressed sneers and back-handed compliments.

The chair on the other end screeches as the butler hurriedly rushes over to pull it off the marble floor.

“Since my son has found the best of wife,” he says over the celebrating crowd as chatters die down, “a coronation for the new Queen and King to take the throne shall be held in three month’s time.”

A pause.

“I’m unwell,” the Queen looks at you sharply before she meets her King’s concerned gaze, “allow me to retreat to my chambers.”

Less than a minute later, Taehyung stands, dropping the crisp white napkin on the table. The only sound echoing off the walls are his footsteps tapping against the floor almost as mocking as his retreat.

The King clears his throat and smiled with a sort of practiced glee that could have fooled the highest of nobles, “eat, drink, celebrate! For we have a busy month ahead of us.”

But you’re both of royal blood and you’ve once borne a weight of a crown.

The wide, a deep red, swirls in a minute whirlwind within the chalice as before you shoot the King a smile and bring the chalice to your lips.

x

“Your highness,” you stop a few feet from your door where a familiar face is leaning against, chatting up one of the maids whose luck is the poorest to have caught him there at the wrong time, “what brings you to my chambers?”

The maid drops her gaze, a meek greeting shot your way before she practically runs to the opposite direction.

“You dare lock your chambers from your husband?” He looks past you to your Seulgi who has assumed a post as your lady-in-waiting. She remains in her spot until you signal for her to unlock it.

“When I tell you to do something, you do it,” he whispers to her between the clicking of keys before she pushes the door open, head hung low as though she hadn’t heard a thing.

You cover your hand with yours for the briefest seconds before trailing behind him into your room. The curtains are drawn apart, moon light pouring onto the intricate design of the Indian carpet.

“You’re stepping out of line, princess,” fingers curl around your delicate wrist as the doors creak to a shut, “be a good little trophy wife and cease your meddling in the politics of my kingdom.”

“I should not have to if you’d do your job properly.” You maintain the smirk spread across your glossed lips as you attempt to shove him away.

The frown lines on his face eases into a nasty smirk. The one you wish to slap off since the day you’ve encountered. It’s short-lived as the corners of his mouth turns down.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten,” even with the mask of hurt he wears on that devastatingly handsome face, it’s still not enough to conceal the ugly little head of where he derives his humor from, “that once I’m the King and you the Queen, we are expected to be with a child. A royal blood to unite the two kingdoms once and for all.” 

His grip tightens, those dark eyes harbor the same kind of menace of the man who rode on his horse and ordered for your head during the war. The mere recollection of blood, fire and the condition of your own knight makes you want to vomit.

Arching your knee upwards, you take a step backwards as he doubles over, wheezing.

“You wench,” he sneers once he’s gathered his breath and the remnants of his pride, “wait til I become King-”

“King?” A scoff escapes your lips, “battles and wars are your forte, I admit but it takes a man to rule a kingdom and unfortunately you’re half of a man than the stable boys.”

The bellows for the guards almost allows him to pass as a mad man. Truly feral and uncontrolled like the beast that set fire to your people’s houses and burned the harvest of your kingdom.

“Your highness,” Eunha rushes to your side as three guards march towards Taehyung, Seulgi standing a few feet away.

“Get my sword and one for my darling wife,” nimble hand pulls apart the ruff of his collar before he tosses his jacket onto your bed, “it’s a beautiful night for a fence.”

x

It’s a losing game.

You knew since you unsheathed the sword of your family insignia - one of the many approaches the King had taken to make you feel at home. It’s your father’s father, passed on to your father and on your wedding day, passed to you and hung on the wall in the diner hall of your new home.

The weight isn’t made for a woman - as are many things that are deemed a man’s job. You prefer the sword you had custom made on your 20th birthday. The day your father promised he’d teach you how to wield a weapon but before he managed to hold a lesson for you, he’d fallen terribly ill.

Sending a prayer to your bed-ridden father, you leap at the smirking man, already knowing it’s far too heavy for you to counter his attack. One strike is at it takes for him to send your sword airborne and landing just inches from the fountain where a statue of the previous King stands gloriously.

“Yield,” the point of the blade catches the reflection of weary yet bloodthirsty eyes. It takes a moment for you to realize they do not belong to the monster who’s well able to drive it through your heart. It belongs to another kind of monster, yourself.

“You’d have to kill me first,” you say through gritted teeth despite your neck burning from craning upwards to look at him dead in the eye.

“Enough!” A flock of golden yellow enters your periphery, the delicate shrill is enough to tell who the colorful robe belongs to, “Taehyung, I raised you better than to point your sword at a woman!”

“But mother,” the man grunts, “she was -”

“I don’t care who did what,” she speaks over him, hardened gaze shifting from his son to you.

The weight of it is enough for you to want to cower into the corner and blend with the shadows yet you remain on your spot, back straightened, hands 

“Leave,” is all she says and it’s enough.

One by one, the guards and your maid begins to trickle out of the vicinity, rushed heels clacking against the floor until only the three of you are left.

She didn’t even bat an eye when her son bowed and started walking until you dip to a courtesy, “remain there.”

“Your majesty,” nodding once, you watch as she circles you like a predator before pulling out your sword from where it’s rooted.

“A princess does not go against a man in a sword fight,” the glint of the moonrays hits one of her eyes, painting it a treacherous golden brown, “not before she is crowned Queen.”

“With all due respect, your majesty, I do not want -”

“You will,” the robe flutters behind her as she spins, gracefully yet deadly, “you will want power. Command. Once you’ve lived long enough to lose yourself in this god forsaken place and I will not allow you to have any semblance of that in my castle. In my kingdom.”

“My Queen, your wisdom is misplaced. I’ve borne the weight of the crown and know a great deal of what it entitles,” you drop to a bow, “to be relieved of it is a luxury not many can afford. My apologies that you lost yourself along the way and forgot the cause you are to bear: your people. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

The air feels heavy, almost crushing with each step you take as the reverberating sound of your heels remind you how alone you are within these walls. The wall you’re leaned against as you clutch the thin peignoir on your chest, heaves of breath tumbling out erratically.

You’re not sure how long you’re slumped on the ground like that. Not long, you suppose. These walls, though barren, are not uninhabited. One of the footmen must have seen the lump of a person and came close enough to realize it’s you before he manages to shoo you away if you were a maid.

Eunha is on your side in no time. Gentle, slender arms around yours guiding you to your room. But those are not the arms you wish to be in right now.

x

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[devnicolee]

The Chosen Ones (4)

Word Count: 10,377

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]

“What is going on with you? I mean... I have never known you to be this reckless," the king of Wakanda exclaimed as he wore a whole in the carpet of his sister's room, pacing back and forth endlessly. 

Asha rubbed her forehead, shame and frustration growing as her brother's lecture drew on minute by minute. 

"T'Challa, I said I was sorry. I do not need a lecture. Believe me, I feel horrible enough as it is!" She tried to say. 

First M'Baku... now him? She couldn't take this much disappointment from both of them in the same evening, her heart couldn't handle it. She felt a small, soft squeeze to her hand, knowing it was moral support from her sister. Asha smiled weakly but her eyes didn't leave their dead stare into her lap, she didn't want to look at any of them.

"Apparently you do! I asked you if you wanted out of this engagement, I gave you an out. But now, there are certain responsibilities and obligations that you can't ignore just because you feel like it. And it is just," he took a moment to catch his breath before continuing, "it is highly inappropriate as a new council member and advisor to create a potential scandal of this magnitu-"

"Yes, I am a cheater and a horrible person. The worthless trouble-making, embarrassing liability to the great Panther Tribe. I get it! I have heard it several times today and every day for most of my life, I do not need any more reminders from you!" 

Asha's voice raised to match her brother's and in anger she leapt off her bed, standing toe to toe with him. She could feel the rings on her hands working overtime to tame the beast within as her hurt from the last few hours transitioned to anger.

"Ok, ok! Asha, it is alright. No one is saying any of those things. T'Challa certainly doesn't think them," Nakia inserted quickly, walking over and placing a soothing hand on the young princess's back. 

The two siblings were no stranger to a squabble or two but this was beyond both of them. Unlike T'Challa, Nakia could see that all of this was a symptom of a deeper issue and they would not get to the bottom of it by shaming her choices. She sent a silent but reproachful glare T'Challa's way as she tried to calm Asha down enough to continue. "Perhaps you should go. We will talk to her," she added quietly, seeing the fractures the emotionally-charged evening had sent through the young princess. 

T'Challa hesitated, now understanding that he had misstepped and feeling as though an apology was due. But Nakia simply shook her head and motioned toward the door. He nodded before motioning for Okoye to follow and quickly exit the room. 

As soon as her door slammed shut, Asha felt the weight of the day heavy on her shoulders, causing her to sink down to the floor by her bed. She buried her head in her hands as she tried to stop more tears from falling.

Haven't we cried enough today?

"I would like to be alone, please," she whispered, muffled but still clear enough for the remaining two occupants of her bedroom to hear.

"No, we are not leaving you like this. Talk to us. What happened?" Nakia asked as she crouched in front of Asha. 

Asha didn't move or attempt to acknowledge her question. She knew what they really wanted and that was to unpack that kiss... the now infamous kiss. But what would Asha say? How could she explain it when she was hundreds of miles from understanding the complexity of her feelings toward M'Baku. She always thought love was supposed to be simple, easy, but this was anything but that. In two days, she and M'Baku managed to entangle themselves in a web of all those emotions and that kiss was right smack in the center. Asha did not have the capacity to unravel it all tonight.

Asha couldn't tell if she kissed him because she longed for affection, was angry at the guy she was supposed to be with, was desperate for a different life, actually loved him or because she just wanted to feel something other than sadness. Or if it was some combination of all those things? All of them came with an airplane worth of baggage that could not be reduced to the carry-on sized explanation they desired.

"Nothing happened... M'Baku was comforting me and we got caught up in the moment. That is it."

The women both knew she was lying, that she just wasn't willing to share. But still, they persisted. 

"Come on, Asha. We know you. And w-we understand what you are going through but you have to talk to us and let us in. Let us help you."

Asha scoffed, her sister's ignorance almost made a laugh escape from her lips,. 

"You don't understand. How could you possibly? Neither of you know what it is like to be despised or treated like an embarrassment. You have never spent a single moment in your lives as I have. You don't get it and you never will!" She lashed out at them. She stood up and turned her back to them, taking a deep breath to calm herself.  "Please leave. Now. I wish to be alone."

"Asha.."

"Please do not make me have Alexis forcibly remove you. Just go, please." 

The shaky begging in her voice did the trick, leading both women out of her door. Asha slid back to her spot on the floor, tears making their silent trek down her face. 

She wished she had never allowed T'Challa to convince her to leave this room in the first place, wished she had never stepped a foot in the soft snow of Jabariland, and wished her eyes had never fallen on him. Then she would be happy... or at least, as happy as she was before and that would still be enough. She would be officially engaged in a week, existing in ignorance’s bliss. She would never know what true freedom tasted like, never know what true love felt like and so she wouldn't have to mourn it as she does now.

Sadness morphed into anger and frustration at everyone who forced her out of her safe isolation but didn't warn her that once you have seen light, it is impossible to go back to darkness. 

****

Asha tried to put a smile on her face as she sat in silence in the council meeting, but it was difficult to hide sadness when it is as deeply rooted as Asha's was. Your smile can be as bright as the Sun but it always still shows through in your eyes. She just wanted to retreat back to her room, not see him or Hasani who both sat in the circle of chairs branching out from her brother's. She also just hated being in these meetings to begin with, still feeling as though she didn't belong. It did not help that half of the circle... her mother, Elder Shani and her son all gave her cold reproachful looks that basically told her she didn't belong if she dared give her opinion. And now to make it worse, she felt like there was a giant, "I am a cheater" sign glowing above her head. 

She didn't quite understand why she felt so guilty, she knew Hasani never lost sleep over cheating on her. And his indiscretions were far worse than a simple kiss. But still, as she stole glances at both men, she felt guilty: guilty for cheating and guilty for bringing M'Baku into this mess. And she supposed her life's goal was to not be as carefree and uncaring as Hasani, certainly not the marker of a good person.

But she most wanted to talk to M'Baku, wanted to apologize or explain herself or... well, she did not quite know what she wanted to say to him. They said so much last night while simultaneously leaving so much unsaid. She questioned whether words would even matter at this point. But she felt the pull and desire to say something either way, just to hear the comfort in his voice, ensure that that comfort was still there. There was a stab of regret every time she considered the fact that she may have destroyed their friendship over a kiss, a stab that felt as painful as a physical wound in her body. But those were the consequences, she supposed. A moment of weakness in exchange for one of the few positive relationships in her life. 

"We cannot accept these terms. This agreement with the Jabari is an insult to your father's legacy and all who have fought to control the spread of such a disease in our borders," Elder Shani almost shouted from her seat in front of her brother. 

 The argument ensuing around her snatched Asha's head out of the clouds and back down to Earth where she found the council entrenched in a loud and unruly argument. Asha quickly realized that the Elders had found the one clause in the treaty Asha buried deeply and had simply hoped would go unnoticed. But it seemed little got past Elder Shani, who likely read through it with a fine-toothed comb to find a mistake on Asha's part.

"This treaty is about respecting the Jabari's way of life and integrating it into ours. They have a different respect and custom for mutants or the Chosen, as I believe Lord M'Baku has referred to them. After conversations with my sister and Lord M'Baku, I will not ask them to change their customs and their ways. He has assured me that they will not be a threat to the ways in which we govern down the mountains." 

Asha and M'Baku gave her brother a side eye, knowing that he pulled that explanation out of nowhere. That part of the treaty was added last minute after M'Baku expressed concerns over integrating the Jabari's Chosen into a regressive society. She chose not to bring it up and prolong the talks, figuring her brother would not notice a clause buried so deeply in the treaty's many pages.

"And what if that changes? What if one of them comes down here and creates trouble?" 

"Asha, you met with the people of Jabariland, saw their customs in practice. What do you think?" 

Asha gulped, mouth going dry at the idea of having to defend mutants to the most hostile person in the room, the person who also knew her secret. She glanced at her brother out of the corner of her eye whose smirk clearly told her that this was a problem of her creation that she now needed to fix.

"T-t-the Chosen are a peaceful group of Jabari. They are no different than the non-gifted among them. They have absolutely no reason to fight or create trouble for us down the mountains. Their goal is to use their p-powers to help advance the tribe. It is my belief that they will not be an issue for us." 

"And what if their idea of advancing the tribe is overthrowing us and ensuring Lord M'Baku sits on the throne?" Another elder chimed in. 

M'Baku laughed loudly, as if the idea of wanting the throne was too preposterous to take seriously. 

"I wanted to be king of Wakanda once, yes, it is true. However, since then I have saved your rightful king, risked Jabari lives to overthrow a usurper, and put that King back on his throne. Without my people and I, Killmonger would still be alive and sitting in that chair. Seems like an awful lot of work when I could have just taken the Heart-Shaped Herb to become King myself and left King T'Challa to die. My interests no longer lie in leading this backwards nation." 

"'Backwards?'" Elder Shani shouted, outraged at the insult. "How dare you?" 

"Yes, backwards. A country that has all the resources in the world, offers all the opportunity in the world to its people and still finds a way to hold people back, to limit the power and ability of the more gifted among you. You can call us savages and insult me, I know what some of you say behind my back. But at least, the Jabari treat their fellow citizens with the respect Hanuman demands. When Bast calls you all home to the Plains... Will you be able to say the same?" 

"Enough! That is quite enough," T'Challa called, causing all the tempers to quiet down significantly. "Elder Shani, as always, I appreciate your counsel. However, the treaty is final. The Jabari will not be forced to comply with any law within the Mutant Regulation Act. Lord M'Baku and the Jabari proved themselves to be a loyal tribe of Wakanda ten times over and I will not have that loyalty questioned in this room again. I reserve my right as king to revisit any aspect of the treaty if, and only if, it becomes an issue." 

He and M'Baku shared a respectful head nod before T'Challa continued. 

"Thank you all for a productive meeting. Unless there are outstanding matters, we will reconvene next Saturday prior to the start of the Festival. This year's festival will begin Sunday night at the Falls for the announcement of my sister's engagement and the King’s Exhibition. Thank you all. Wakanda Forever." 

At the mention of her engagement, Asha glanced at M'Baku and she wished she hadn't. His body was rigid and she could almost see the rage radiating off him into the space. 

"Wakanda Forever," they all replied in unison, as the meeting broke up. 

Asha turned around to pick up her tablet and notebook, mainly to avoid the death glare she was receiving from Elder Shani across the room. When she turned back, the older woman was in a huddled discussion with another elder and her mother. Their hushed whispers could not reach her ears but she knew it was likely nothing good. 

She kept her eyes trained on the floor as she walked, until she ran into the hard, broad back of someone. 

"Oh, I am sorry! I didn't see you th- M'Baku," she started to apologize to the unknown person until they turned around and she came face to face with the man she was desperately trying to avoid. She wondered if it would have been less painless to run into Elder Shani as she looked into his eyes, finding no more admiration and love there.

"Yes your highness?" 

His voice matched his eyes... cold and despondent, everything she didn't expect from him. She felt a sense of deja-vu to how he treated her prior to coming to the mountains. She remembered how it felt to be on the receiving end of his coldness and not understand why. She understood why now, but that didn't dampen the sting.

"U-uh, w-well I-I wanted to s-speak with you, actually," Asha stammered as she adjusted to all the things she was not used to from him... his coldness, formality and harsh tone. The silence between the stretched out as she tried to figure out what to say.  

"Well?" he barked. "I do not have all day, I am in a rush to return home." 

His tone hit her like a slap in the face. "N-never mind then, I hope you have a safe journey home." 

He nodded and saluted her with a pained look on his face before turning to head back down the hall. Her eyes glistened slightly, she felt the pressure of tears building behind them but she tried to push those emotions down. They both made their choices and here laid the consequences, she would learn to deal with them.  

M'Baku thought his feet could not carry him back to his carriage fast enough. He wanted nothing more than to flee this palace, and retreat to his own home to sulk and nurse his bruised heart. He thought they had started to build something... something beautiful and as quickly as it was put together, it crumbled. 

"M'Baku!"

He grimaced as he heard the unmistakable timbre of his king calling after him. He wanted so badly to ignore him and if this was a time in the past, he would have. But he respected T'Challa, and was growing to see him as something resembling a friend. So he pushed down his annoyance and heartbreak to speak to his King, praying to Hanuman that this was a short conversation. He almost jumped clean out of his skin to find the King directly behind him instead of down the hall. 

"My king?" 

"Leaving so soon?" T'Challa asked, his tone pleasant and airy, not like someone addressing the man whom he found making out with one of his younger sisters the day prior. 

"Yes, I have matters to attend to at home. What can I do for you?" M'Baku decided to cut the formalities short, he knew T'Challa did not stop him for that. 

T'Challa nodded, his face descending into a more serious look. "Are you in love with my sister?"

He eyed the look of surprise that passed across M'Baku's face before adding, "I speak to you not as King but as an older brother who just wants his sister to be happy. There is no wrong answer here. Are you in love with her?" 

"Yes," M'Baku replied shortly. There was not much else to say, this was all very simple to him.  

T'Challa gestured forward, allowing the man to continue his journey toward his carriage as they walked. 

"My sister always pretends to be happy, never complains about her horrible treatment at the hands of my parents or her regulation to being a prisoner in her own home. She always tries to hide it but it shows... it always shows in her eyes. They hold a certain sadness, or at least they have every single day for the last 15 years. The only other person on this Earth who I have seen with eyes like that died a few weeks ago. I couldn't save him, couldn't undo the injustices my family doled out upon him. But I... I can save Asha." 

"Forgive me, my King. But I don't understand what you want from me?" 

"When my sister walked off the Talon 24 hours ago, she looked like a completely different person. Joy and happiness radiated off her like light from the Sun. It was the first day I looked at my sister and didn't see that sadness. I do not have to be as smart as Shuri or as intuitive as Nakia to know who brought that about. My sister is in love with you. I want you to know that before you get in that carriage and resign to writing her off for the rest of your life. She is stuck between her heart and obligation, what she wants and what she has been conditioned to believe she should have. And Shuri and I are trying to help her but... As a brother, I-I am just asking you not to give up on her just yet."

As he finished, they reached his carriage. T'Challa did not wait for M'Baku to respond, he simply saluted him before turning on his heels to tread the same path back into the palace. Meanwhile, M'Baku just stood there staring after him for a while, another plan to forget Asha slowly sinking down the drain. 

****

"M'Baku!"

He tore his eyes from the mountains, ready to snap at the man foolish enough to interrupt him, only to find N'Danna standing not too far behind him. N'Danna looked annoyed as if he had been calling the chief's name for a while. M'Baku clearly hadn't heard him, trapped in a cycle of his own thoughts, the light wind blowing past, and the nighttime jitters of the forest.

He barely acknowledged his second-in-command, knowing his best friend would just come and occupy the empty spot next to him. And sure enough, he felt his presence beside him as the man dusted the snow off the odd-shaped, massive boulder M'Baku was currently sitting on and sat down beside him.

"You are a hard man to find since returning from the Golden City," N'Danna mused as he took his cue from his chief and began staring at the mountains in front of him.

N'Danna supposed they were really just staring at nothing. He knew mountains were there, visible when the sun was high in the sky. But in such darkness, the best they could see was a vague outline. His gaze fell down to the village below that was still bustling with activity, lights branching out like veins in the darkness. 

"How long have you been out here?"

"Since the sunset."

"You have turned into somewhat of a sunset enthusiast. And why did you decide to come out here on the coldest night of the winter?" N'Danna inquired.

M'Baku shook his head, "I don't know. I have come here every night for the last three days. I say I am not going to come and still I find myself out here all night. Not sure what answers I expect to find out here though." 

N'Danna nodded, both men leaning back and laying against the rocks to look up at the midnight sky and twinkling stars. 

"This is a good spot to find answers I suppose. And being here probably makes you feel closer to her, right?"

The two men turned to each other and N'Danna let out a light chuckle at the disgruntled look on his friend's face. 

"I didn't even get that from your thoughts this time. Just an observation. You have been this way for the last few days, ever since you got back." Silence fell over the two for a moment before N'Danna spoke again. "Talk to me, M'Baku. What is going on with you? I have never seen you like this before."

When he didn't say anything initially, N'Danna assumed he opted to ignore his question. It wouldn't be the first time his friend chose to ignore things instead of addressing them. And so, after a few minutes of quiet, N'Danna returned his attention to the barely visible mountains ahead of them. He was surprised when he finally heard a response minutes later. 

"I fell in love with her," M'Baku stated out of the blue. N'Danna wished he could see beneath the Earth's surface, and get confirmation of his suspicion that Hell had indeed frozen over at this admission. M'Baku had been with many women in his 30 years of living and had never so much as uttered a word similar to "love" toward any of them, such a word was vacant from his vocabulary. Now N'Danna understood, he got it. His poor chief had fallen fast and hard for the first time and was left out in the cold, a cold he was not accustomed to. 

"And s-she rejected me. I was j-jus- And now she is about to be engaged... engaged to a man wh-" words failed him as he tried to verbalize how truly frustrating this all was. But his words resembled his thoughts, jumbled and disjointed as he tried to sift through the complex web he had woven. "About to live her life in hiding and secret again. It just does not make sense!" 

"Why does that bother you so much? It is her life to live. If she chooses to hide and waste it, what is it to you?"

M'Baku gave him an incredulous look, immediately standing from the boulder to pace beside it. N'Danna was a Chosen, M'Baku was baffled that he could not see the issue in all this. 

"Because she deserves better! She deserves what every person like her in these mountains has: the opportunity to be yourself, be raised to see the limitless power of what Hanuman has given you, the chance to do anything. That is what you have! That is what all of the Chosen have. It is not fair that she was stripped of that... Striped of that to be what? Someone of her power reduced to a rung on a ladder for a power-hungry shell of a man. It is not right."

"She is a princess, M'Baku, these obligations come with the territory. I am sure she is just doing what she thinks is best." 

M'Baku scoffed, "Screw the obligations of royalty! We are talking about a woman who possesses powers... a gift that these mountains - Hell I would wager the world has not seen in generations. She is a once-in-a-lifetime gift, limitless power at her fingertips. She is not ordinary, she deserves more than ordinary!" 

N'Danna sighed, sitting up. 

"You speak of the Chosen as if we are Gods and Goddesses M'Baku. That has always been the problem, this altar you exalt us to, you prayed to be one of us when you don't really understand the burden we all carry.  Asha is not limitless, none of us are! Asha was raised to hide, taught to be ashamed of who she was. Her powers are not unlimited. They are faulty, complicated, powerful, rare, stressed, beautiful and malleable just as the woman who wields them. You are so blinded by the beauty of her powers that you cannot see the tragedy in it. And that is why you are so disappointed. Not because she chose another man, but because she is has something you have longed for and she is showing you that not everyone is happy to be gifted... not everyone wants it. She may be a once-in-a-lifetime power, I do not doubt that, but she is also a young girl stuck between impossible choices, stuck between realities."

M'Baku shook his head, "Being with me is an impossible choice? Following your heart, choosing a better life is an impossible choice? I showed her how life could be different. Ok, you say it is not freedom, fine. But it is so much more than what she has now. How hard of a choice is that?"

"Following your heart has consequences, running up here to be with you and throw fire around to her heart's content has consequences. And not just for her... for her family, for all of Wakanda. She is a member of the Royal Family, for Hanuman's sake. P-people learn to love their chains M'Baku. Sometimes they become more comfortable, safer than what lies outside them. You offer her freedom but ignore the price of that freedom. Maybe she is not willing to pay it after only knowing you for two days."

M'Baku sighed and bowed his head, looking toward the forest to his left, the dark branches loaded down with fresh snow from the storm earlier that day. 

"I j-just... I want better for her. I thought I could help bring light into her life and maybe, I just don't know how to accept that I failed. I-I don't know how to go back to life before her," he admitted honestly. 

"Perhaps it is not all about you. You want her, and I understand that. But you did help her start down a path of self discovery. The Asha who left here last week is very different from the one who came here at first. She will find it difficult to retreat to her old life. Maybe you planted seeds that will flourish one day but you don't get to bask in the garden's beauty... it may not be meant for you. I know it is not what you want but you may have to accept that it is all you will get."

The two men stared at each other as his words settled in M'Baku's mind. This was probably the most honest conversation the two men had ever had in their friendship, N'Danna was the only person willing to tell M'Baku when he was wrong, push him down the correct path when he was stuck, straying or stalling to find it himself.

"The King asked me not to give up on her, not to push her away," he offered quietly, the grief of a love lost clear in his voice. 

"Then don't, if you don't want to. She is not getting married Sunday, merely publicly announcing her engagement. So much can happen between now and the altar. But until then, you can stop torturing yourself and all of us," he added with a joking tone and smile, "Let her go and let the chips fall where they may. If she is meant to be yours, Hanuman will bring her back." 

M'Baku nodded slowly. He looked over N'Danna's shoulder toward the center of the cliff they stood on. It was like a movie in front of him, he could see them clear as day. He wished he could go back to that moment, wrapped in the warmth of each other and deep in their own world. It was worth it, he decided, whatever heartbreak he had to endure the last few days or was in store for him moving forward. 

"Let us go home, M'Baku. You got the answers you need." 

M'Baku smiled at his friend and they both walked back to their individual carriages. Before it pulled off, he smiled sadly at that spot again, knowing he wouldn't be back here any time soon. N'Danna was right, Hanuman sent the answers he was desperately seeking. He just had to listen. 

****

Asha felt like she had blinked and suddenly the week was almost over. She was not complaining though. A busy mind meant she couldn't pine for M'Baku, grief the loss of him, or think about her upcoming public engagement, which made all of this official, not some back alley deal between their parents. Staying busy was the only way to keep those thoughts and her looming dread at bay.

She had to admit though, without the allure of M'Baku and Jabariland, Asha realized that her new job lacked a certain appeal. But... she felt like everything lacked a certain appeal these days. 

However, when darkness fell and the palace quieted, it hit her the hardest. She didn’t really need sleep so she couldn't count on it to take her away from it all and sometimes, even the unconscious world was unsafe. She counted at least one dream a night that featured M'Baku in some fashion. 

And that is how she found herself after a particularly packed Thursday, laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling and praying to Bast to let her sleep. But no such luck. She tossed and she turned, and she thought of no one and nothing else but that man up the mountains and their last conversation. 

It is clear that he is falling for you. You could escape... leave all this behind, the panther inside seemed to whisper, desperate to return to its life outside its cage. You hate it here. 

I don't hate it here, she argued back. My family is here. Well, at least T'Challa and Shuri... Nakia, Alexis, Okoye - they are all here. I couldn't just leave them to deal with whatever wrath Elder Shani could unleash. 

But this isn't for you anymore.

The thought made Asha cringe a little, knowing she could never say that out loud. What would her siblings say? It would devastate them. But it was not untrue, she realized in those quiet, lonely and restless moments in the dead of the night. After her father's death, her life was supposed to get easier with less restrictions and a bit more freedom. Yet somehow, the chains felt heavier and tighter. Pretending to be normal had never been this... this hard. 

She felt like an animal being herded back into captivity after experiencing the wild, a life driven by its own desires. She did not realize what it would take to learn to re-love her chains, the pieces of her soul they siphon from her to do so. She shed them so quickly and willingly up the mountains, savored every second of the sweet freedom it offered her. And just like that she was back here, ripped out of her dreams into reality. She didn't expect it to be so hard truthfully... had no idea the pain she was preparing herself for.

She knew one thing though - this would never be enough, not after she experienced something different. This bastardized freedom her brother gave her just wouldn't do. It was the best he could offer, she certainly didn't fault him for it.  But compared to what M'Baku showed her? This was merely a weak imitation. 

She pulled the fluffy white pillow from beside her on top of her face and screamed into it, loud enough to release her frustration but not loud enough to send Alexis racing into her room, spear raised. Annoyance rippled through her that her body would not just allow her the simple reprieve from this world for another, the downside of sleep being a mere luxury and not a necessity for survival.

This just isn't helping, she ultimately decided.

Her mind drifted around the palace, thinking of all the places she could go to distract her and pass the night hours. Shuri's private lab was an option but she knew the young girl liked to work through the night and was not interested in talking to anyone. Her mind wandered to the library, which was a solid option of unlimited solitude. But even that did not have a certain appeal, she just thought of him and how they first met. 

The training center?

There was an idea she could work with, a space that could not remind her of him. Besides, nothing cleared the mind like a good at was an idea she could work with. Nothing cleared the mind like a work out and thanks to her brother, she had a brand new, never been used training center of her own to test out. It was the only spot that offered any sort of appeal to her now. She slid out of bed and quickly changed her clothes.

Alexis stood at attention, saluting her before Asha told her where she was going and convinced her to take the rest of the night off. 

She walked across the palace and downstairs, entering the main training room and immediately heading for a discreet door on the back wall. One full body scan later and the door slid open for her to enter.

It was beautiful, Asha thought to herself as she walked around the room. It was long and slender unlike the expansive training room on the other side of the wall. The cushioned training mat floor was soft beneath her feet, the tall ceilings overheard would give her just enough space to practice sustaining flight, sleek walls embedded with blue flecks of vibranium that glowed lighting the room in a blue hue.

One thing did confuse her though, the lack of equipment. She looked around, trying to understand the mechanics of the space. It was completely empty, all except for the computer monitor across from the entrance. As if it sensed her presence as she approached, it immediately lit up and offered a menu of training modes for Asha to choose from. Asha slowly took her rings off, sitting them and her shoes together in the corner, before scrolling through the many options and settings. She didn't understand how any of them would work with no equipment but she never got a proper tutorial of the space. But she knew her brother was smart so she chose combat and figured that she would learn as she went.

She walked to the center of the room and on cue, the lights dimmed and suddenly, a hologram of a person came racing toward her. Asha barely had time to think or process before the attacker raised a digital weapon and a loud bang sounded across the silent room.

Before she knew it, a massive blast of air knocked her on her back and let her know that she had been hit. 

"Simulation over," a computerized female voice called throughout the room. "Assailant: 1; Asha: 0."

A small groan escaped her throat as she slowly sat up and tried to catch her breath. 

Once she was on her feet again, she called out, "Again," signaling for the simulation to restart.

She sank into a defensive position as the lights darkened again, focusing her eyes on the wall at the end of the room and preparing for the man to emerge once more. She watched, waiting as nothing happened. But soon, she felt a presence behind her. She turned quickly, not wasting precious seconds this time. She immediately threw a ball of fire at the figure causing it to crumble to the ground and disappear. 

She was so distracted watching the hologram disappear that she was surprised to feel a small blast of air hit her shoulder, directing her attention to a hologram on the window ledge. She was finally starting to understand the mechanics of combat mode, Asha killed that assailant next. This continued for 10 minutes, Asha dodging targets and their weapons. The simulation ended with another sneak attack, causing her to realize that any blow that would be fatal in the real world caused the simulation to cease. 

Still, as she heard the score back, she felt as though she had redeemed herself. Not that it really mattered, there was no one there to see it. Asha: 10, Assailants: 5 was not bad for her second round. 

Asha watched as the computer pulled up a heat signature of the room, red and orange on random spots around the room. She pressed a glowing "extinguish" button, which caused the room to release the targeted extinguisher to those spots, returning the room to normal.

Asha went through combat mode three more times, the assailants and patterns changing every time. They became more complex, she realized, the room analyzing her battle patterns and movements to push her harder. By her last round, Asha had kicked her powers into high gear, certainly more energy than she had ever used. But she looked like a skilled dancer instead of a clumsy fawn as she ran, jumped and dodged blasts across the room. She threw fire, caused diversions, hovered in the air to better examine the full field of attackers. She created life-sized fire panthers that chased down her attackers and killed them at her command like her own personal army. She even realized that once or twice, she could block the blasts with a fire shield, though she couldn't sustain it. The last simulation only ended when a voice overpowered the settings. Asha was directing a panther to attack three figures who were running from it from her position in the air when she saw her brother leaning against the wall in the corner.

"Simulation over," the voice said again as Asha made the fire disappear and landed softly back on the ground. She did not acknowledge her brother initially, walking to grab her shoes and rings as the voice said, "Assailants: 3, Asha: 25."

"I was trying to get to 30," she called, realizing how out of breath and tired she was as she tried to talk and walk over to him. 

The room did a final extinguish of the night as they both moved back into the main training center. She sat down on the floor, exhausted, to drink some water. 

"I needed a training partner. Trust me, you looked amazing, you were just showing off at that point. I am surprised to find you down here. Have you ever even used it since I built it?" 

Asha's chest heaved as she caught her breath. She didn't understand how she felt this exhausted despite only training for an hour.

"Not since Baba. Figured now was as good a time as any. I couldn't sleep. You either?" She looked at the time on her beads: 3 am. 

"Nope. I woke up and tossed around for a bit before something told me that this was the place to be tonight. Now I know why. Train with me," he asked assertively. She knew it was not a legitimate question. There was only one proper answer when her brother wanted a late-night sparring partner. 

T'Challa powered up his suit, the only thing that would protect his skin from burns when practicing hand-to-hand combat with Asha. She sank into her battle stance, ignoring the exhaustion in her body. T'Challa was the better fighter, regardless of Asha's lethal abilities, because he practiced more and had super strength and speed. He knew all of Asha's moves and how to respond while it seemed she could never keep up with him. If he was being honest, these sessions were more for Asha than him.

After letting Asha win twice and beating her once, T'Challa let her fall back on the training floor to rest.  

"That was good, you are getting better," he offered as he sat on a bench next to her. She envied him, she looked like she had just stepped out of a pool of her own sweat while he looked as if he could walk into a state dinner, perfectly unruffled despite fighting for 30 minutes.  

"Thanks," she nodded. 

"How are you? I meant to check in earlier this week, see how you are enjoying your work." 

"The work is good T'Challa. I enjoy it. Everything is good," she responded lightly, hoping that would be enough to end the line of questioning she was sure was forming on his lips. 

They hadn't really spoken since the drama at the state dinner the week prior and she had been kind of avoiding him to keep it that way. She did not want to talk to anyone about this but something felt especially odd about going to her older brother about her love life. She knew T'Challa had his way, she would be single forever so no one could hurt her.

"Asha..."

She turned her head away from him, recognizing that tone. He was descending into full big brother mode, desiring to talk about her feelings and fix whatever problems he thought plagued her. Asha knew he meant well and he tried, but most of her problems... he actually couldn't fix. And this one would be no different.

"Talk to me. Everything is not good. You are not ok. You are different, we can all see it. Don't keep it all bottled up." 

Asha sighed, wiping the sweat off her forehead with the towel next to her.

"If I could explain it, T'Challa, I would." 

"Try... for me. As long as it takes." 

"Before I went to Jabariland, the idea of leaving this palace terrified me. You know how resistant I was to take on this role in the first place. All I could think of is Baba saying that I was dangerous and all the ways I could hurt or kill people. And so, staying here, being a good princess and marrying Hasani... it was prison but it was a comfortable one. Over time, the chains hurt less... the frustration faded and I learned to love and appreciate the life I had. It was not the best but it was enough." 

"But then you experienced something different?" He offered. 

Asha looked at him, appreciating that he was giving her the opening to admit the one thing she thought she had to keep secret to spare his feelings. 

"But then I experienced something different," she echoed. "Thanks to you, by the way," she nudged him playfully. "Something life-changing. He pushed me to the edge and made me rethink everything I had thought about my powers before. Made me see beauty in the flowers where I only saw weeds. And then on top of that... I-I fell in love with him. So fast and hard like I jumped off a cliff. And then I came back here and... reality just hit me like a rhino. I am forced to hide... cannot have the man I love. I j-just don't know how much longer I can do this."

"Do what?" T'Challa asked, pained by his sister speaking so despondently and knowing there was little he could do to help her.

"This," she whispered, gesturing at her hands. "Pretending to be something I am not, hiding the one thing that makes me unique. Every day I get up and I put these rings on and head down to my office, I realize that this is it. All I have to look forward to for the rest of my days is Hasani and a life in the darkness. It will never be enough. Just doesn't seem like much of a life to me anymore."

Asha stared at the wall across from them, a painting of Bast on the training room wall, while T'Challa stared at her profile. The two just sat there for a while, not saying anything at all, as T'Challa thought over what Asha said. It was not that he didn't want to say anything, he just couldn't think of anything appropriate. What do you say to someone who no longer thinks their future is worth it?  

"What can I do?" he settled on. 

He was a fixer, he could help her fix this and forge a path forward.

She offered him a sad smile, "I am not sure there is anything you can do, brother." 

"Nonsense, I am king," he boasted, causing the two to share a laugh. 

"Even kings have limitations, just like the rest of us." She stood up, holding out her hand to pull her brother to his feet. "Come, let us go to bed. There is so much to be done before the start of the festival this weekend."  

T'Challa nodded, knowing she was ending the conversation to avoid talking about it. He knew he would not sleep when he returned to his bed, instead he would be thinking of how to give his sister freedom, true freedom, no matter the cost.

****

"Did T'Challa tell you what this was about?" Shuri asked as they briskly walked down to the throne room, after being alerted of an emergency council meeting. 

"No. We were training together last night, he never mentioned needing to gather the council early. I asked Nakia, she said he didn't mention it to her either. You would think he would trust his most trusted advisor though? Titles mean less and less around here every day," Asha joked. 

She and Shuri shared a laugh as they entered and settled in their seats, finding most of the council already assembled. 

Their mother walked in followed by T'Challa, who looked grim and exhausted. She shared a confused and concerned look with her sister as they all did the customary salute before directing her attention back to her brother. She was so concerned that she didn't even have much time to lament over M'Baku who was sitting across from her. 

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I realize this is unorthodox but this could not wait. I was up for most of the night, thinking and praying about the future of this nation. After deep prayer with Bast, I realized I can no longer sit by while injustice runs rampant within our borders. That is why I will be announcing the repeal of the Mutant Regulation Laws at the Festival of Bast on Sunday, effective immediately." 

There was a beat of silence before shouts and anger erupted among the group as his words settled in the room like fog. The shouts overlapping rants of her mother, Elder Shani and two others were incoherent to Asha as they shouted at her brother. She was still trying to formulate a simple thought, his words were bouncing around in her mind but were having trouble truly sticking. Once she emerged from the shock of shock, she couldn't have been happier, repealing those laws would change so much for people like her. 

The Mutant Regulation Laws were a set of laws, initially enacted by Asha's grandfather and expanded by King T'Chaka, that attempted to limit mutants movements in the country and to limit the increase of the mutant population. The only people excluded from the laws since their inception were the Jabari.

As far as the public knew, the purpose of the laws were to protect citizens from enhanced individuals. The act stipulated that all mutants had to register with the government and general rules to limit the use of their powers, such as forbidding them in public spaces. This registry was first enacted in response to what her grandfather believed was an exponential increase in the mutant population across the four tribes.

The laws were divisive no doubt, like all controversial things. Many loved them, advocated for further expansions, feeling safe knowing that mutants could not inflict their powers on everyone else. The less vocal half, though, saw them as something that made them no better than the discrimination colonizers around the globe subjected their people to. However, only the Royal family knew the truth, that her father's reasoning for expanding the law had little to do with safety and everything to do with his fragile ego. 

As she got older, Asha quickly realized that her father didn't hate mutants because they were dangerous or threatened his country. He hated them simply because they were born with powers he had to win combat to get, powers he had to be deemed worthy for and earn. While they just woke up with them one day, having done no real work to deserve them. As the mantle of Black Panther and title of King caused his ego to grow, he grew equally paranoid that one day, mutants would begin to believe they were the ones actually chosen by Bast and invalidate the legacy of the Black Panther. As the population of mutants grew year after year, his paranoia that he would lose his title of King and Protector grew with it. Soon, a registry to merely keep track of the population was not enough. Soon, he launched a campaign to ensure mutants were the lowest rung on Wakanda's social order. Soon, the registry turned into laws to limit their abilities and resources funding research to find a cure for their affliction. 

In the previous council meeting, M'Baku had echoed the sentiments of half the country... that the policies were regressive and a dark stain on Wakanda. But Wakandans were humans, just like those on the other side of their borders. After being fed enough ammunition, people can be conditioned to hate anyone. 

T'Challa raised his hand to silence the group, adding, "Lord M'Baku was right, this is not the Wakanda Bast promised her people, at least not for everyone. Not for enhanced individuals, who are just as deserving of the same respect and opportunities as the rest of us. The Jabari and their enhanced people have lived in peace for centuries. We can do the same here." 

"Have you lost your mind??" Ramonda asked furiously from her seat next to her son. "That law is part of your father's legacy!" 

"Baba was a great king, but that does not mean he was always right. And on this, I feel he was wrong." 

"Half of your country sleeps peacefully because of those laws," Elder Shani cried, pointing out the large window at the city below. "Sleep peacefully knowing lethal people cannot murder them or hurt them with no thought. What would you say to those people?" 

"Yes and half the country sleeps less peacefully knowing that with all our technology and opportunities and advancement, we are no better than the colonizers who discriminate against people for their race or gender or sexuality. It is not right," Nakia interjected.

"You will end your father's legacy in one day. You will destroy everything he has built, the tribe and country he has created."

"The tribe and legacy he built on the backs of a brother he murdered, a child he abandoned and rampant discrimination of his people! Would that be such a bad thing?" Asha argued quietly, drawing the group's attention (and subsequently, their anger) toward her. 

She almost balked at the looks her mother and Elder Shani gave her but when she looked passed them, she was met with a reassuring and encouraging nod from M'Baku that empowered her to press forward. 

"This is a good thing," she asserted, shoulders squared and head held high.

"Of course you would think so," Elder Shani sneered. "I am sure you were the one that forced him to do this. People like you are destroying our country."

The room fell silent as the other elders stared shocked at their fellow member, seemingly surprised at her very vocal and unwarranted disrespect toward a member of the Royal Family. 

"Elder Shani! Princess Asha is royal advisor to the King, our princess. Apologize at once!" Elder M’Kathu exclaimed.

"I shall do no such thing! The only thing that makes her worthy to sit before us is that crown on her head... her title. She is beneath me, beneath all of us," she spat at Asha, staring at her with such contempt. 

Asha sat rigid in her chair as her future mother-in-law threw her vitriol at her. Asha wondered if this was how out-of-body experiences felt. She could so very clearly see where this train was going, see how her life's secret was about to implode before her eyes in a manner of moments but she could not direct her mouth to say a word or her limbs to move. She just sat, paralyzed and silent, unable to save herself or stop the train that was about to carry her whole family off a cliff. 

"Elder Shani... I would think about what is at stake before you say another word to or about my sister," T'Challa threatened, his voice low and deadly. 

For a split-second, the room saw it - a king no longer sat before them, the Black Panther did. For most, this would have been enough to slam on the brakes and beg for forgiveness. But it seemed Elder Shani was done, tired of pretending to respect someone she felt was beneath her, tired of keeping a secret for a person she despised. And her hate would not be outweighed by her greed any longer, she clearly couldn't take it.

"I told your father! I told him, warned him of the damage you and your affliction would cause him. Even from the grave, you destroy him and taint his legacy. Your kind... your disease destroyed him and it will lead to the end of Wakanda! You are a threat to us all." She took a deep breath before continuing, "Princess Asha is a mutant! The Panther Tribe has been hiding it, lying to their people for decades. Hiding her and t-this abomination from us all! And now she has our King under some spell, convinced him to uproot all the safety and security we have worked so hard to build."

As she spoke, Asha could feel rage rising in her body. It was steady, slowly building with every word that fell from Shani's lips as she spewed her hate and vitriol for all to hear. She tried to calm herself, control her breathing and emotions as she sat there, push them back down so she could get through the night. But it was proving to be impossible. The metal bars of her panther's cage were meaningless, being torn apart like pieces of paper as her emotions reached their peak. 

"That is enough! Take her away!" T'Challa stood before her, directing the Dora to come and escort Elder Shani from the room. 

Asha held her head in her hands as she took sharp, shallow breaths. Her whole body shook as she tried her hardest to not lose it in front of her family and the remaining members of the council. 

"Asha." 

She heard Shuri's voice and felt her hand on her shoulder causing her to jump up. Everyone seemed to back away from her immediately, causing Asha to notice the smoke and small flickers of flames erupting from her hands. The rings around her fingers were completely useless as the flames continued to grow steadily. Asha could only recall one moment in her life when she felt this out of control, the day her brother “died.” 

She got up and backed away to put some distance between her and the rest of the group. 

"Stay back!" she yelled through her gasping breaths, holding her hand out and inadvertently causing flames to fly toward her family. 

The Dora around the room instinctively lifted their spears, the remaining elders fled to the opposite wall as far from her as possible. But her family remained where they were, M'Baku being the brave soul to ignore her direction and approach her, unbothered by the uncontrollable fire escaping her body. Fire that grew stronger and bigger as Elder Shani's words cycled through her brain nonstop, causing her despair and rage to grow. Years of ignoring her emotions, years of trauma and abuse were finally boiling over. Tonight was the final push off the cliff, she could not do this anymore.  

"Asha.. you have to calm down," M'Baku whispered, motioning for the rest of her family to stay behind him. 

He wished he could get her to look into his eyes but as he looked at her blood-red irises and the tears streaming down her face, he realized she looked without truly seeing. 

"You are none of those things. You are beautiful and powerful. You are not dangerous. Don't become what they fear you are."

She heard his voice, understood the words he was saying but she didn't believe them, not when 25 years of abuse cycled in her mind to counter it. She looked around the room and all she saw was fear, proof that her home, the place she loved would never truly accept her. Elder Shani proved that. She had freed her from hiding but she also ensured that Asha couldn't stay here anymore, not when people looked at her like what she always feared she was: a monster. 

She couldn't do it, wouldn't do it, didn't have the strength to subject herself to it any longer. This was her out and she was going to take it. She looked from her family to the window across from her. 

She didn't think about it, didn't consider the mechanics. She just tore herself from the wall she backed herself into and ran toward the window. Her body lifted off the floor into flight as she used a blast of fire to cause the glass to break open for her.

"Asha no! Come back, " she heard her sister call after her. 

She turned back and looked at them once as she used all the energy she could muster to fly away from her, her family, her home and her past for good. 

Night had fallen during the course of that meeting, giving Asha a nice cover so no one could see her flying overhead. She zoomed out of the dome quickly, her mind not even conjuring up a location or place to go. She just wanted as much distance between her life and her as possible, knowing she would run into the border at some point. 

The wind painfully whipped against her face, causing her eyes to blur so she could barely see where she was going. In her emotionally-heightened state, it proved difficult to sustain flight as she passed over the uninhabited forests of Wakanda. As she tried to sort through the wreckage that was her life, she could not concentrate on her task, which caused her to lose height or speed every few minutes. And it just became harder and took more energy to accelerate and regain the height she lost every time she had to refocus. 

This cycle lasted for about 20 minutes before she had to reckon with this hastily made choice. She had no idea where she was or if she was even still in Wakanda, all she saw for miles were forest. She figured she must still be in the country, she couldn't fly that fast. In a short time, the explosive anger that coursed through her in the throne room was long gone, replaced with very real fear. Fear that taking an impromptu flight with no direction, after only one lesson, and without telling one living soul where she was headed was the worst decision she had ever made. 

She realized soon that she had no choice but to turn around and pray to Bast that she could sustain flight enough to get back to civilization. This was not sustainable and she knew it. She frantically looked around for a landmark in the trees, anything that looked familiar and could provide her a spot to rest before finishing the journey. She spotted the temple by the Garden of the Heart-Shaped Herb, silently thanking Bast and deciding that it would be as good of a spot as any to catch her breath. She headed in that direction. However, like a real fire reaching its end, Asha could see her internal fire slowly dying out. 

"No don't do this, we are almost there," she begged herself as the fire encompassing her hands and feet started to die away as well. 

Her mind felt cloudy and it was a struggle to keep her eyes open. Before she knew it, her eyes fell closed, her fire having died out completely, and her body fell gracefully from the sky before thudding in a small clearing in the forest at the foot of the Temple of Bast. 

****

@destinio1 @muse-of-mbaku @missmohnique @jellybean531 @afrolatinpami @leahnicole1219 @archivistofwakanda

[renee-writer]

Pride and Prejudice Outlander Chapter 8 Weddings and More Weddings

Claire finds her mother in bed, overcome by her nerves.

“None of you will find a decent husband with Iona shaming us all.” She wails out. Her remaining daughters try to comfort her but she refuses it. Then a letter comes.

Claire steps out to find Fiona and Mary fighting over it. She takes it from them. “It is addressed to da.” She declares thus ending the argument.

They all run out when he pulls up a few minutes later. “Da, you have a letter!”

“It may be about Iona!” Mary adds to Fiona's declaration.

“Let get my breath.” He says as he takes it from Claire.

“Is she married da?”

“Let me see. Ah, she is. The Lt. has made an honest woman out of her. He only requires 100 pounds a year in her maintenance.”

“You will do it, right da?” Mary pleads.

“Of course. It is bargain. With his commission.”

“I wouldn’t take her for less the 10,000. I bet our uncle helped.” Claire whispers as they head inside.

Her mam is in raptures of joy. “A daughter married at 15! Come girls, help me get dressed, girls! I must ring the bell and tell the neighbors. A husband for my Iona.”

“But mam, he isn’t a good man.” Claire tries but no one is listening to her.

Iona and Frank Randall arrive a few days later. Iona is full of pride and herself. She spends the whole visit talking about her dear Randall, showing off her wedding ring, and telling her sisters that Glasgow is the place to find a husband. Claire attempts to speak with her but she is not listening. She is married now and thinks she is above it all.

As for Frank, he is regretting his decision. But, it gave him his commission. She is young, his wife. She is easily distracted. She will give him a heir or two. He will seek dalliances elsewhere while she raises his children. It will work out. They leave for London the next day and life returns to normal for awhile.

“Oh my, it is Lord John and the stiff one. What is his name?” Mary says from the window.

“Mr. Fraser?” Claire joins her and sees them approach.

“Oh heavens, what could they want? Geillis, fix your hair, my love. Mary Kitty, get the ribbons up. Oh my!” Their mam is all aflutter again.

She answers the knock on the door with her daughters standing behind her.

“Mrs. Anderson,” A deep bow,” I need to speak to Mr. Anderson on the matter of your daughter Geillis.”

“Oh, but of course. Come in. Geillis join your father in the study. All you other girls, back to the living room.” Claire searches for Mr. Fraser but, he isn’t with his mate. She sees him, out the window, at the end of the garden, pacing. She watches him as her mam and other sisters whisper, excitedly.

After what seems a long time, there is a scream of excitement from the study. Geillis, John, and Henry emerge.

“It seems we are to have a wedding, Mrs. Anderson.” Her husband tells her, with a smile.”

Claire is quite happy for her sister and eagerly joins in the wedding planning that takes over the day. But, her mind is also occupied with Mr. Fraser. Why hadn't he came in? When will he make an offer or will he after the way she treated him?

Late that night, there is a knock on the door. Henry, in his night shirt, surrounded by his wife and daughters, goes to answer it. To their surprise, it is the Duchess. They all curtsy and bow.

“The rest of your family, I suppose.” She says.

“Yes ma'am. All but our youngest recently married. Our eldest was just proposed to today.” Julia says with pride.

“I heard of both. I must speak to Miss Claire. It is a serious matter.”

With frowns, the hustle their other daughters out and close the door.

“I have come this way due to an unbelievable rumor I have heard. I know it cannot be true but, to satisfy myself, I must ask you.”

“What is this scandalous rumor?”

“That my nephew, James, has asked for your hand. I know it to be a lie as he has been promised to my Leery since they were both infants. There is no way he would marry into a family with a hastily fixed elopement, and only by the generosity of your uncle. It would be unheard of.”

“If you know thus to be true then why are you here?”

“I want to here it from your own lips. You will not accept nor encourage, any proposal from James.”

“I will promise no such thing. You come hers due to a rumor, insult my family, and then think I will promise you to throw away my own chance of happiness. Get out. Now.”

“Well, I have never been so insulted in all my life. It isn't to be born!”

“I suspect you will bear it well. Good night ma'am.”

She storms out and her family rejoin her.

“Dove, what was that?”

“A misunderstanding. I am back to bed.” She tells her da. But, she can’t sleep. Eventually, a bit before sunrise, she raises up and goes for a walk. It is the easiest way to clear her head.

As she walks in the field, she sees him coming. Jamie. She stops and waits. As he gets closer she says,” I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me either. My aunt's visit, was that what has you restless?”

“Yes, are you promised to her daughter?”

“No. It is what she wants but not what I want.”

“Did you help fix the situation with Iona and Randall?” He has stopped a hair's breath away from her. With the sun raising, she can see his eyes.

“Aye, I saw to his commission and made sure he had a ring to give her.”

“Why?”

“The same reason I urged John to come back and make an offer to Geillis. It is all for you, you must know that.”

“Me?”

“You have bewitched me Claire, body and soul. I still and will forever love you. If your feelings for me haven't changed, tell me now. I will ne' bother you with them again. But, if they have..”

She stops him by placing her hands over his. “They are cold.”

“Aye.” They are both breathless as she lifts his hands up to her lips. “Is that a yes?”

“Aye,” they both chuckle at her horrid accent. “Yes, lets go talk to da.”

“Your father, aye.” They walk in the house, hand in hand, badly startling the just waken occupants.

“Mam, is da awake?”

“In the study. So is there to be a double wedding then?” Her eyes dance at the prospect.

“Maybe.” Her squeal follows them in.

“Da, Mr. Fraser wishes to discuss something with you.” He looks at their hands and then up to his daughters face.

“I thought you hated him.”

“I was wrong.”

“Mr. Fraser, can you give my daughter and I a minute?”

“Aye sir.” He bows and walks out.

“Claire, this is a shock. Well, he is rich enough. You will have more fine carriages then Geillis. Will that make you happy?”

“No, he does. He could be as poor as a church mouse and I would still love him, want him. Oh da, I was so wrong about him. He helped Iona.”

“How?”

“He paid Randall's commission and a bit more, I think.”

“Oh lord, I must pay him back.”

“No, he wouldn’t like you knowing. Da, we are so alike, him and I. Both strong, stubborn, but loving people. Oh da, if you could only see.” Her eyes are alight and she holds her hands to her lips as she holds back a very unladylike scream of joy.

“I do see. You love him. You really love him.”

“Oh da, I do, I really do!”

“I wouldn’t part with my Claire for anything less. Send your man in.”

“Oh da! Thank you!” She kisses him on his cheek and runs out.

“He is in the front garden. Pacing.” Geillis tells her. “I thought you hated him.”

“Well, I can be wrong, once or twice.”

“At least.” They both laugh as she runs out to find her heart.

“He said yes! Go speak to him to make the arrangements.” She greets him.

“Aye! He said aye.” She nods as tears run down her face. He lifts her up and spins her around. He then lowers her down and brushes her lips with his before heading inside. He passes his future mother-in- law, in rapturous joy.

“Three daughters married! Thank you God!”

He echoes that thanks, in his heart, as he enters the study.

“Mr. Anderson sir.” He bows.

“Mr. Fraser. Do you love my daughter?”

“I do sir. There has been naught for me since I first meet her eyes.”

“You will treat her right and stay true to her?”

“I will. You have my vow.”

“Good. Claire is special. I wouldn’t approve of any marriage for her that wasn't a love match. You may marry her. Welcome to the family.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Just treat her right. Tell my wife if there are any lads out there for Fiona and Mary to send them in. I am quite at my leisure.”

He walks out and finds her among her sisters and mam. Unmindful of all the eyes on them, he pulls her to himself and deeply kisses her. She returns it with equal passion.

“We can do a double ceremony with John and Geillis, if that pleases?”

“Yes.” Both sisters agree.

“Grand, I will make the arrangements with John.”

[takivvatanga]

open home.

“To tell you the truth, I’ve driven past this place at least five times just this week. I think it’s absolutely gorgeous.” The blonde woman beams, shifts her weight from one foot to the other with barely contained excitement as she grasps for her husband’s hand, holding it tightly in hers.

Stella swallows the lump in her throat. She doesn’t know this woman from a bar of soap, but here, in this moment, her mannerisms remind her of her mother and it hurts.

“I’m glad to hear it”, Stella replies. “It’s… a good house. It deserves someone who will appreciate it.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s more than just good, it’s great! Isn’t it, David?”

The bespectacled man nods. His eyes are large and bright behind his dark-rimmed glasses.

“It’s pretty good”, he concedes.

“Oh, come on darling. It’s exactly what we talked about. What we thought we might want.”

“I guess.”

“Would it kill you to be just a little bit more enthusiastic?”

Stella can’t help but chuckle a little. They seem like a nice couple, bickering aside.

Mum and Dad wouldn’t mind them living here.

“So, first things first.” The blonde drops her voice to a faux-conspiratorial whisper. There’s a gleam of mischief in her green eyes. “Why is the owner even selling? I mean, this is a great location, and the house is nothing short of a dream. Why would anyone give up a place like this?”

Why would anyone, indeed.

“My parents passed away.”

Four words. Four words that do not even come close to conveying her grief, her sleepless nights, the agonising internal debate on what to bloody well do with the place. The decision, equally painful and liberating, to let go.

“Oh, you’re the owner. I am so very sorry, I thought you were the agent. Are they… coming, still? The agent, I mean.”

The man – David – frowns, visibly uncomfortable. “I am sorry”, he says. His gaze is fixed on some indeterminate point just behind Stella. “This kind of thing is really hard.”

Stella feels her eyes starting to burn. Sorry won’t bring them back. Sorry won’t make this easy, either. What he says is nothing new. She’s heard those phrases a million times before. The funerals – what tragedy, both of them gone within three months of each other – are still vivid in her mind. Stella stood alone, solemn, dressed in black, her body, no – her soul feeling impossibly heavy as the seemingly neverending string of mourners filed past her, handshake after clammy handshake, condolence after hollow condolence.  

No, it’s not what he says. It’s how he says it. There’s something genuine in his voice, something heartfelt. Something authentic. Maybe, just maybe, Stella wouldn’t mind if he lived here. 

“It’s okay”, she concedes, her hand rising up to fidget with the little silver blackbird pendant around her neck.

Are you okay with this, Mum? she asks inside her mind. Will you be angry with me for selling? I just can’t live here, Mum. It feels so empty. It used to be home, but without you and Dad it just isn’t right anymore. It feels like a skin waiting to be shed. I have to do this, Mum, and I hope you understand.

“I wanted to do this on my own. It’s important to me. Part of the process, I guess. I want to make sure that it’s a good match. For the house. I know this sounds odd, but – I grew up here. My parents put their heart and soul into this place, and I really would like to see it go to someone who can appreciate it for that. I don’t want this to be just another item on someone’s investment portfolio. It’s always been a home, and it’s important to me that it stays that way.” Stella brushes a stray curl off her face. Her hair is shot through with strands of grey. Salt and pepper. These people are younger than her, by quite a bit. She doesn’t usually feel old, but right now she does.

“It’s pretty straight forward, really.” She gestures for them to follow her through the house, their footsteps echo in the empty hallway. Stella never quite realised how spacious the house really is. In her mind, it’s small, cramped, filled to the brim with her mother’s things. They fill a storage unit, now. It was the sensible thing to do. Going through everything, deciding what to keep and what to sell or give away is a task of near epic proportions, and even though Stella is chipping away at it, bit by bit, there is still a lot to be done.

“Master bedroom to the right. Second bedroom to the left. Do you have children?”

“No.” The blonde woman’s reply is immediate, curt, her voice suddenly cold, defensive. She wants them, Stella thinks. She wants them, she will always want them, but she’ll never have them. She doesn’t know how she knows. She just does.

Stella nods in acknowledgement, leads onwards.

“Two more rooms upstairs. One has a balcony, as you’ve surely seen from outside. It was my father’s study. The other was set up as a darkroom. My mother did a lot of photography.”

“This is so spacious, I adore it. So much room. We could do so much with this, couldn’t we, David?”

“I guess.” ”You don’t like it, do you, darling?”

David once again looks uncomfortable. He runs his hand over one of the smooth, recently painted walls.

“It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

It is Stella’s turn to be uncomfortable. Whatever is going on between these two, it has nothing to do with her and she’d prefer to keep it that way.

Thankfully, David only shakes his head, a small, defeated gesture. Stella doesn’t miss her chance.

“I’ll just take you through into the lounge. And the kitchen and dining area. Open plan, as you can see. Gets the sun all day around, too.”

“Does the fireplace… does it work?”

Stella nods.

“Of course it does.”

She remembers her mother, standing in the doorway, carrying the basket of wood against her hip, illuminated from the hall lights behind her, unintentionally and impossibly graceful.

She remembers the concentration on her father’s face as he strikes the match, the way his eyes light up with satisfaction when the fire catches perfectly on the first try.

“It works perfectly.”

“Perfect. Just perfect. And I love the french doors, too!”

”Yes, they open up onto the garden. The garden is… quite something.”

Her mother’s garden. Her pride and joy. A little bit strange, just like her. Soft. Good. Surprisingly complex. Stella has tried her best to keep up with it, haphazardly, out of duty rather than enjoyment. It’s gotten away on her. The peas have gone wild, the bougainvillea has overgrown the fence. The roses have survived, somehow. The clematis – the bloody clematis. How many hours has she spent trying to prune the damn thing back, trying to get it under control, sweat beading on her forehead, her hands in her mother’s gardening gloves?

“Oh, we’re not worried about the garden. It’s a waste of time, gardening. We’ll likely concrete most of it. You know, like a patio? With a nice tidy decorative lawn. I mean, who can be bothered actually maintaining a garden, nowadays?”

Stella’s face turns to stone.

She can’t allow this. She won’t allow this.  This was her mother’s lifelong labour of love, and Stella cannot with a clean conscience let it be buried under concrete.

“I don’t think this is the right place for you.”

The blonde woman looks up at her, irritated. The man won’t meet her eye.

“I’m not going to sell to you.”

“But… we haven’t even made an offer.”

“And you won’t. Because I won’t sell.”

“And you just decided this now?”

“Leave it, Katie. There’s plenty of other places still on our list. It doesn’t have to be this one.”

“But I love this house.”

“No.” Stella’s voice is firm, sharp, cold.

“You don’t love it how it needs to be loved. How it deserves to be loved. How I want it to be loved.”

“It’s only a house.”

Stella lifts an eyebrow, crosses her arms over her chest.

“That… is exactly what I mean. Because it’s not just a house. It’s a home. And it deserves to be treated with respect. Honoured. I’m sure there’s plenty new builds that will suit you much better than this place. You know, with a nice concrete patio and a tidy little lawn. If you don’t mind, I think I would like you to leave now.”

Katie opens her mouth, closes it again. David puts his hand on her shoulder, shakes his head no. “I’m sorry about this –“ he starts.

Stella shakes her head.

“It’s fine.” ______ 

“I couldn’t do it, Mum. I couldn’t let that happen. I thought they were nice people, and maybe they are, but I don’t want them living here. Tearing up your garden. Your garden.”

Stella sits crosslegged on the bare floor in the lounge, in the exact spot where the couch used to be. The house is silent and dark and empty, but Stella doesn’t feel alone.

“Maybe I’m not ready for this, after all. Maybe I need more time. Maybe…”  Stella sighs, closes her eyes.

Outside, in the garden, a little blackbird sings.  

@starscorned pls accept this self-indulgent offering bc i been yelling about it for days now