#i would give in to the urge to squeeze throw throttle bite tear and it would be Decimated

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Reading your tags it seems you’re the type to get cuteness aggression with Wally lol

homie i get cuteness aggression with Everything

[jimlingss]

The Cost of Power

➜ Words: 4.9k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst?, Historical!AU (??)

➜ Summary: You’ve betrayed your own nation — a queen that’s committed treason. But there was no other choice. It was either letting all your people die or marrying Kim Seokjin, king of the enemy state.

➜ Warnings: Very brief depiction of throwing up after eating (for fear of poison), and an unethical desire for murder.

➜ Notes: This was supposed to be a whole damn series, but I couldn’t cook up an actual storyline or good enough plot points, so here this is. I tried my best and it’s kind of like a drabble, but a bit longer cause I can never control myself.

The wedding dress is tight around your body.   The corset constricts around your abdomen, fancy ties woven on your back, squeezing your lungs. The extravagant white fabric is soft against your fingertips, layers stacked on and swallowing your frame, but the sheer brightness of it blinds your eyes. It is beautiful yet unsightly. It makes you sick.   “You may now kiss the bride.”   He smiles at you and the corners of your mouth twitch as they tug upwards as well. His arms raise to clutch your shoulders and his eyes become half-lidded staring at your lips. He leans in while tilting his head at an angle and you force yourself to stay still, to not lean back.   Kim Seokjin kisses you. His lips are soft and he is gentle, not adding any pressure. But it’s less romantic, more tense and stiff. No one moves or breathes. Your eyes are still wide open.   There’s a sea of melodic applause from the audience, sounds echoing off the cathedral.   He pulls away, wearing a bright grin.    You’re going to kill him.

The boisterous music and chatter is deafening to your ears.    The extravagance is suffocating. People are mindlessly dancing, swaying to the music like fools, relishing in the celebration, stuffing their faces with food. You despise it with every inch of your being.   As they see you, the sea of people split. There are murmurs, stares, smiles and you return their attention with your own smile, waving and greeting those that you pass by. You have fistfuls of your gown, walking past probably less gracefully than you should be.   “Are you sure the black was a good idea?”   “He should be lucky I didn’t pick red,” you murmur underneath your breath. He’s leaning down, listening to you and with the bright smile on your visage, it looks like you’re having a pleasant conversation rather than one full of calculations. No one notices the grin you wear never quite reaches your eyes. “Scope the premise, Namjoon. Be on alert.”   “You want me to leave your side?”   “I have plants in the crowd. Don’t worry about me.”   He nods and obeys your command, taking a left turn. You continue to move towards the center where the crowd is the thickest, where people have surrounded the most important person—   “There’s my wife!”   He laughs from his chest, loudly in your ears and you keep yourself from wincing away. Your smile widens when he throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his body. “Hello there, Jin.”   His face almost breaks with the smile he has as you call him by a shortened nickname. “We should cut the cake!” he announces and guides you away from the prying eyes attentively observing your affections.    He is too close for comfort and you have the strongest urge to throttle him on the ground, an itch, an instinct. But you hold yourself back, forcing yourself to go against your deepest will.   There’s no mistake — he’s as tense as you are, arm around you stiff and without any real emotions attached to it. As you move away from the people, Seokjin leans down, breath skimming over the shell of your ear. “I like the colour of your dress.”   It’s the deepest black shade, fabric made of chiffon and draping to the floor. It hugs your curves, fewer jewels and excessive sparkles and more reminiscent to that of a raven. “Thanks. It’s my funeral clothes.”   “Lovely as always, aren’t you?” As the pair of you get to the circular table, the baker lowers his head and everyone gathers, quieting down. He makes some small speech about how special this day is and you hold the knife placed on the table. The blade is jagged and you grasp it swiftly from muscle memory. You could stab him right here. The blood would soak the floor, coat people’s shoes, splatter onto your hands.   Your people would shout at the top of their lungs over the horrified screams and you would claim this capital city as your own, run people from their rooms. The image is alluring. But the casualties would be far too high and there’s no guarantee that victory will be achieved when there were his guards standing in every nook and cranny.   You hold yourself back and snap out of your daydream when his gentle hand is placed over yours, grip light and soft. You exchange a long look with him before you both melt into sheepish smiles, cutting through the sponge-like cake together. There’s a ripple of cheers and applause.   Before you can distribute the cake around in an efficient manner, Jin’s finger dips into the white cream and he lifts his hand, grazing it against your cheek. The movement has you flinching, eyes widening, heart quickening in pace. You almost threw him over your shoulder and hurled him on the ground, but you quickly calm down on the realization that he’s not attacking you.   You smile, mustering up a sweet laugh. The crowd chuckles with you as well, a chorus that is awkward and demonic. You swipe at the cream as well, coming to poke his nose, smearing it on his skin and Jin laughs. You giggle. There’s so much fake laughter that it clogs your throat up.   He cuts a slice and takes a forkful. “You should eat some.”   “No, I’m okay.” You apply your coy mask, not letting it crack at the edges.   “I insist.” The silver fork bumps your mouth. “How can the bride not have a slice of her own cake?”   The attention is pinpointed on you. There’s no choice.   You back down, allowing Jin to have his win. Your lips part and he feeds you with a smile before taking his own bite of the cake, but your eyes discreetly narrow in on him.   The next thing you know, you find yourself slipped away from the masses, crouched over and heaving up the little food from your stomach and out your mouth. After it’s done, you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, gasping for breath as you stand. Your eyes search for Namjoon, throat cracking without water. But instead, you run into him.   “You’re everywhere, aren’t you?”   “Is it so wrong to be around my bride?” He lifts his brow and leans over, looking over your shoulder. “Not feeling well?”   “I’m fine.”   You don’t say anymore, marching back into the hoard. The facade you’ve carefully crafted is mastered as you speak to the diplomats, dukes, duchesses while in the meanwhile, dances commence.. But while you and Seokjin have smiles painted on your faces, there is silence that fills the in-between. What should be a day of happiness, bliss, and joy is ridden with suspicion, hatred, and unspoken threats.   “Will you be okay?” your attendant inquires.   You give a firm nod. “I can handle myself well. Go rest in your chambers.”   “If you need me, just say so.”   For the first time this evening, the corner of your mouth tugs without twitching. “Who else would I call for?”   Namjoon walks down the hall. As harmless as he may seem, you’re aware that underneath his clothing is an array of weapons ready to be used if need be.. He is not only your trusted advisor, but your bodyguard who will protect you from whatever harm's way there is...except when it comes from the king himself.   You slip into the bedroom where a few servants are waiting for you with a tidy space. They greet you in synchronized voices, heads bowed and showing the utmost respect. You dismiss them, stating a bath is not necessary as you had received one a few hours ago, before they dolled you up in their ridiculous attire.   Once they leave, you sit alone at the vanity, pulling the pins out from your hair. Your locks cascade out, a mountain of hair clips and decorations piled up on the table, relieving your scalp. You tear the clothes away from your body, changing into an unsuspecting night slip and when you’re more mobile than before, you begin to inspect the bedroom.   You look underneath the bed, the mattress, behind any table and surface, inspecting every inch of the wall and pressing your foot against the floorboards. There’s nothing.    But you’re still on alert. They’ve taught you better than to let your guard down. You slink towards the window, investigating the small balcony and considering that someone could jump down from the roof and attack you. The prospect has you lingering, touching the golden handles only to find the doors locked.   You don’t know how to open them, though as you peer downwards, you muse that it’s quite a height. You wonder if you could jump, run for it, make it up the hill and down the valley by yourself. You could potentially spend a few days in the forest until the chaos would die down.   But you can’t.   Your people would die if you ran.   The door knob jiggles and it pulls you from your thoughts, making you whip your neck over to the main double doors of the room.    Kim Seokjin enters the bedroom, tired and rubbing his aching muscles. He releases a long sigh, doors shutting behind him and as he steps in, he finds you already laying in bed, the thin sheet wrinkled around your waist. He exhales once more and walks over, swallowing hard.   You listen carefully, tuning your ears as his steps increase in sound, coming closer and closer.   The bed dips.   You feel him hovering over you.   And immediately, your eyes snap open. Seokjin is above you, unsuspecting, and your hand grips the handle of the knife by your side. With all your weight, you grab the collar of his night attire, pulling him hard until he yells and collapses onto the bed. You flip him underneath you, straddling his waist with your night slip riding up. More importantly, the blade is held to his throat.   But before you can make any cut, he traps your foot with his. Jin uses his hips and builds momentum, rolling on top of you and reversing the position. He is less fluid and agile in motion, but he has more strength and easily overpowers you. You shout as his one arm holds back yours and his hand pries the knife away from your grip.   You’ve lost again.   “Kill me!” you spit at him, wanting to get it done and over with.   “Are you fucking crazy?!”   You scream from the depths of your stomach and squirm beneath him. “Just do it already!”   “No! I’m not going to kill you!” He throws the knife onto the ground. It clangs horrifically, sliding far away and out of your reach. Your back slumps completely to the mattress, still caught in the compromised position, and you can see the way anger surges through him. It’s enough to make his pretty face marred by the frown, lips lopsided, brows knitted tight together. His eyes are dark like the colour of his hair, showing no mercy towards your acts. “What’s wrong with you?!”   “If you don’t kill me, then I’ll kill you,” you mutter to him.   Jin scoffs, pinning your arms over your head. “You really think you can kill me?” he taunts and reminds you, “My people are in this castle. You’re in my country. You’d never make it out alive.”   “Then I’ll die a martyr,” you spit at him. “My people will know what I died for!”   Cold laughter rings from his chest, never quite reaching his eyes. “Okay. Sure. Die for your nation. But then your people will lose their ruler. They will have no one.”   It is silent. The realization dawn upon you, how irresponsible you are, how short-sighted you are. The consequences are detrimental. The symbolic act would cause ruin to your country.   You stare at him. The pale moonlight from the outside pierces past the windows, candle by the nightstand flickering its flame and casting a gentle glow onto his visage. His eyes aren’t as dark as you had thought — they’re of a deep brown hue.   “Then why don’t you kill me? You have less to lose.”   “I won’t kill you,” he repeats and loosens his grip before letting you go. Jin sits back on his ankles and you scramble upwards, leaning on the headboard, gaze locked with his. “Your people are here too and the moment any of us are killed, you know full well war will break out again. You don’t want that. Neither do I.”   “I don’t understand you.” You rub your wrists, soothing the tight grip he had on them.   “What don’t you understand?”   “Why did you agree to marry me?” Your eyes narrow, still ridden with suspicion. “You have less to gain than I do.”   Apprehension and hesitation are etched onto his features. He doesn’t want to tell you, but you’re his wife now. There’s no need to continue this charade that you’re the enemy. You can tell he’s thinking hard and he inhales a deep breath, preparing himself. “A month ago, there was an assassination attempt. They failed.”   Your brows lift. “They?”   “Rebels. From the outskirts,” he tells you candidly. You’re as much of a ruler as he is and you have every right to know what’s going on in these borders. “Even if we have the means to fight, there is no will left amongst the people. We have lost all morale. The people desire stability.”   “And you married me to appease them?”   “I don’t appease people.” He smirks briefly, expression mischievous for several seconds before his lips pout and he nods solemnly. “I just knew drastic measures needed to be taken. I’m not ignorant to history. Even if I suppressed them or killed them, little could be done if the masses’ convictions are strong enough. Their anger can overthrow any powerful leader.”   “And did it work?” you ask, wanting to know the cost of remaining in power, if it was worth marrying you. Had you known what you did now, you would’ve kept pushing, maybe even helped those rebels to dethrone him. But you wouldn’t have been able to. You can’t. You’re in as much of a helpless position as he is. “Was marrying me a strong enough measure?”   “Little movement has been seen from them ever since I announced our engagement.” He smiles in satisfaction, sitting back, relaxed. But his gaze remains intense, keeping you pinpointed in your spot and away from diving on the floor for the discarded blade. “And I know you need me as much as I need you.”   Your voice becomes bitter. “You don’t know anything.”   “But I do,” he says earnestly. “I hear things and I’m certain I can help.”   Liar.   No matter what he says or does, you cannot come to trust him. “We don’t need your help. My nation….I will be the one to help them.”   “Your pride will ruin them,” he states as plain as day. The circumstances are the exact opposite from his own. “Even if you have the will to fight, you no longer have the means.”    Your resources are depleted, farm lands burnt, trees cut. The people are weakened, suffering from famine and drought, starving and sick with little work to do.   “Am I wrong?” Jin asks, looking at you. “Why did you sit at the treaty table with me and decided that we should wed? Surely, it was not to restore peace alone or to strengthen our country’s ties.” He sees right through you and it makes you uncomfortable. “Why did you marry me?”   “You’re right.” You evade his last question. He doesn’t care — you know he doesn't. Why should he sympathize with your nation’s troubles? This is the same man you’ve fought on the battlefield, the one that has been hammered into your head since young, that you’ve been taught to loathe and hate. He will take the first opportunity to destroy what you love.   But what hurts most is that he is not wrong.   “We’re poor. We are weak. We have nothing. My parents and their parents have poured all their wealth into the military, into training men to become soldiers, into advancing our weaponry. Our land has been stripped of its use. It will take years to recover.” You’re catching your breath, spewing out the jagged truths he wanted to hear, admitting your losses for his sick satisfaction.    “I married you because I desire prosperity for my citizens. The same prosperity that you have.”    You are envious. To see the rich, business and markets thriving, to have trade amongst other nations far and wide. You wish for your people to laugh freely, to not be impoverished. And for that wish, you have betrayed the very people you want to protect.   “I can help you,” he says after a beat, staring into your eyes, so confident in his convictions that it comes across as naive.   “How?!” you shout in exasperation. You’ve exhausted all efforts, stuck at a loss. You are the leader, the queen, so many lives are dependent on your shoulders alone. Yet, you are hopeless.   “We can open free trade between our nations,” he suggests and you listen, slumping in your spot. “We can encourage business from my country to yours. We can begin development of houses, bridges, buildings, and pay citizens for their work. With that money, they can use it to buy things they need and want. That will cause more markets and businesses to open. And if we allow migration, then that’s more people who can teach others lifelong skills and give them work.”   There is a calm silence in the air.   They are ideas that you’ve never considered. While you may not trust Seokjin as a person, you trust in his knowledge and skills. His country is the very proof of his wisdom and the wisdom of his ancestors.    You swallow hard, looking away from his gaze. “It won’t be easy. The hatred that runs through my people is deep and rooted within their beliefs. No matter what I or...we...do, that hatred will never be erased. Many….many believe that I am a traitor, that I have committed treason.”   “That’s not completely true,” Jin refutes. “Many also view you as a beacon of hope. You are well liked and seen as the better ruler from your parents. They have chosen you to be their ruler.”   Your eyes are wide and words stutter off your tongue. “H...how did you know that?”   The king smiles, looking kinder than you ever thought was possible. “I told you, I hear things. Even in this place...between the young children and the new generation, they view you as a symbol of strength. As a fierce warrior.” He sighs. “We tried to make you into a monster, but the tales were morphed and they think of you as powerful. I guess they’re not entirely false.”   Your head shakes.   The animosity that was present in your skin, the urge to strangle him and kill him like you were trained to do has dissipated. You’re caught off guard — the sole thing they taught you never to do. “Why don’t you hate...me...my country….my people?”   “It doesn’t matter to me if they are your people or my people. They are people.” Jin smiles as if the answer is obvious, like it should be clear he wishes suffering upon no one.   The man stands on his feet, relaxed and he stretches his arms above his head. He turns his back towards you. And he walks over to his side of the bed, sitting on the mattress and fluffing his pillow, getting ready to sleep. But his eyes stray off to meet yours when you’re staring blatantly at him.   He smiles again, the corners of his mouth tilting and eyes crinkling oh so slightly. It is unnerving that he can regard you without spite. “Have you seen those strips?”   “I have.”    The strips of cloth, pink and white, tied to people’s clothing, on their wrists and fingers, on peasants and the elite alike. You’ve seen them tied to fence posts, onto front doors, everywhere.   Jin nods and tells you, “They’re a symbol of peace.”   He rolls onto his back, laying down and pulling the covers until they’re over his chest. Your knees are still gathered together, defensive and unmoving. His eyes are still open and he stares at the canopy of the bed. “People believe in us, so you should believe in me as I believe in you.”   His head turns. “For starters, you should eat.”   “Eat?”   “Stop throwing up every time I give you something,” he tells you off, knowing what you’ve been doing ever since you’ve arrived here. “I’m not going to poison you. If you died, that would be a huge inconvenience for me,” he jests and laughs softly.    He’s afraid of war like you are and that thought has you comforted.   Jin rolls over onto his side and faces you. “How long do you think the food you brought is going to last? If you’re that afraid of me slipping something into your food or drink, then bring someone over from your home who can taste test every meal for you. Don’t starve and suffer.”   You concede, laying down, but still tense as you pull the covers to your chin. Your eyes shut close and a few seconds pass before you feel his gaze piercing into your profile, his pupils running over the slope of your nose to the dip of your cupid’s bow.   “Some of the food….it’s too rich in flavour. I..I’m not used to it.”   The corners of his mouth tugs. “I’ll tell the chef. Whatever you want to eat, you can tell him too. He’s quite good at cooking. I hear he even has recipes from your country.”   “I’m not sure any of the food from back home is any good,” you mumble, remembering how tasteless everything is.   A small puff of air comes out from the seams of his lips, half a chuckle and the other a scoff of surprise at how picky you are.   The two of you should be consummating the marriage, get it done and over with, make the union of marriage permanent. It is a duty and a step towards protecting your new position. But you don’t have the heart to bring it up and force yourself.   It doesn’t feel right to even make mention to it. Just earlier, you were planning to kill him, then the pair of you were arguing and now it’s this…..a normal conversation that you never thought was possible between opponents. From young, you were taught that people from over the border were lesser. It was only when you aged did you know just how untrue that was.   It’s hard to overcome the lies you were told, to share a bed with the enemy.   “You miss it….don’t you?” he asks with a gentle smile. “Home.”   Jin says it like he can sense it and you glance at him. “Yes and no.”   “Why no?”   “My parents.” The old king and queen that they’re now called as they’ve stepped down when you became the ruler. They’re also the main causes of your hardships. “They won’t be welcoming towards you.”    Jin grins. “I bet.”   “They were disapproving from the very beginning, from the moment I considered bringing back the troops, from the time we sat at the treaty table together….all the way until now. To them, I should’ve fought until the very end. Even if it meant losing and letting everything burn.” The words are clogged in your throat, making it hard to speak. “They’ve taken an oath of silence.”   “Silence?”   “They won’t speak to me anymore. To them I’ve done the worst possible thing — I’ve betrayed the nation.”   “You are helping the nation,” he corrects.   “To them I’m not.”   “Then we’ll have to prove them wrong.”   “Someday.” The burden are upon your shoulders, but as you turn to look at him, you realize that he’s here to help you carry that weight. He talks like it’s his own country and he tells you that it’s not your people or his people, but just people he wants to help and not see suffer.   You can’t wrap your mind around it. The decades of brainwashing you’ve endured might never make you trust him properly. “Is it true that you’ve taken my citizens as prisoners and sold them as slaves?”   “W-what?” Seokjin is wide awake again, eyes fluttering open and you shift onto your side, staring directly at him. “Never. We never wanted to harm innocent civilians. If we captured any, we always let them go before crossing the border or we’d take them to the capital and they’re set free.”   “Oh.” The rumours you’ve heard, the news that has been fed to you, the more time you spend here, the more everything turns out to be false.   “I don’t think it’s true that you torture people in the castle dungeon.”   “We stopped that practice centuries ago,” you mutter and he smiles.   “Thought so. I don’t think it’s true that you sleep in coffins or have monsters in the forest that maul any unwelcome folks either.”   You laugh, the sound unrestrained. “You make us sound like those creatures from fairy tales.”   “Your laugh is pleasant,” he comments with a grin and you didn’t even realize it happened. Before you can say anything or shy away, Seokjin continues, “When we go on our tour, we have to prove to the people that it’s true. That it’s real. They will be watching and our actions will become the most powerful symbol of our peace.”   You have an inkling of what he means. Just today, during the wedding and the banquet, all eyes were pinned on you and Seokjin. You’ve heard the elite and the servants murmuring about the pair of you, eyes watching close and becoming giddy at any trace of affection.   But you’re unsure of what his intentions are. “Like what?”   “Well for starters, you shouldn’t flinch when I do things like this.” His arm reaches out, gentle and careful, but your body winces back on instinct. He eases you with a smile and tucks a strand of hair in front of your face behind your ear. Jin’s fingers retract and he smiles. “We have to look close. I might kiss you on your cheek or put my arm around your shoulder or hold your hand…”   “Isn’t that too disgraceful?”   The man smirks, plump lips pulling to one side. “I could do much worse things.” He moves closer until you feel his breath skimming on your cheeks. “Our marriage alone is not enough to heal the wounds of both our nations. We must prove that we care and love one another.”   “I don’t love you.”   “Not yet.” He moves back. “You might one day. I’m very charming.”   You scoff. Yet, it sounds more pleasant than you expected.    At best, you expected for you and Jin to share a platonic partnership or for him to be your comrade, much like Namjoon is. You never once thought about something deeper. Those notions were trivial when the nation was on your shoulders. Your parents and their parents never once considered such a thing. Not when there were much more vital matters at stake.   Love — it never had to do with anything.   And the prospect of accepting some kind of deeper affection sits uncomfortably with you. You’re not used to it. “You shouldn’t put so much faith in your appearance. I will not be stirred by such frivolous things or any trite actions or buttered words.”   “I’ll have to try hard then.” Jin smiles and you wonder how he can do that so many times when speaking to you, like he’s actually surprised how much he enjoys you, your company, and the banter between you two. He is far too bold and brazen. Almost irresponsibly. It makes it harder to believe he is King of such a grand country. “Need I remind you that in our clause, it is imperative that we can create an heir?”   “We can create an heir without any unnecessary emotions hindering the process.”   “I don’t think so.” He shakes his head. “I don’t just bed anyone, my queen. Those who have such privileges are only people that I hold most dearly to my heart.”   You roll onto your back, allowing silence to compose you. “How did your country prosper this much when you’re so caught up on such insignificant matters?”   “They’re not insignificant,” he tells you. “And when stability is reached, you realize there are a lot of important things out there than plain survival.”   You hum and for a moment, you truly believe in him. “Your country is indeed beautiful.”   He’s caught off guard. “Beautiful?”   “It’s beautiful,” you repeat in a murmur, sleep overtaking your consciousness. His persuasion, speech, and eloquence is enough to have weakened you to rest with the enemy, your husband. “I wish my country will heal itself to show its beauty like yours.”   He blinks, lashes fluttering, and the most genuine of smiles spreads on his face. You never once get to witness it when you’ve shut your eyes, but you hear the sincerity flooding through every syllable of his words. “With a leader as lovely as you, it will.”    Throughout the rest of the night, you lean into his chest and his arms hold your body. You rest with one another until a new dawn has been brought to the horizon and you must lift your head as queen of your country.   But you are not alone.   Beside you is the king — here to shoulder the weight of the crown with you.